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librababe99 · 2 months ago

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Gravity of You

cw: MDNI, 18+, Clark Kent, Fem!Reader, Friends to lovers, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it up!) word count: 3.1K summary: In the quiet heart of Metropolis, there's more to Clark Kent than meets the eye—especially when it comes to the love he shares with you.

A/N: I’ve got a soft spot when it comes to Clark and just wanted to drop my own little fic into the tumblrsphere🤭 plus I’m so excited for the new movie next year! I really looking forward to seeing David as Superman <3

(DC masterlist)

It had been a quiet evening in Metropolis, the kind that clung to the final moments of summer, thick with the sweet fragrance of freshly cut grass and the distant hum of the city streets. The sky above shimmered with the last glow of twilight, fading into the velvet blue of early night. You had just finished work at the Daily Planet, shoulders heavy from the day's demands. But there was a gentle excitement bubbling under your skin because tonight, Clark was coming over.

He had been dropping hints all week about needing a quiet night together, just the two of you. And truthfully, after the nonstop churn of Metropolis, the idea of being alone with him was the only thing that had kept you going through the long, drawn-out workdays. The way his soft blue eyes would meet yours over the rim of his glasses, promising something far more intimate than words could convey—it was intoxicating.

As you stepped into your apartment, the warm glow of the setting sun bathed the living room in golden light. The soft cotton of your dress clung to your body as you walked toward the window, pulling it open to let the breeze in. The sound of traffic echoed faintly from below, but it was distant, barely there—just like the world would soon be when Clark was with you.

You turned on a few lamps, casting a dim, intimate glow throughout the space. A bottle of wine sat on the kitchen counter, breathing in the open air, and your favorite record was spinning softly on the turntable. Tonight was going to be special; you could feel it in the air.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door—firm, yet soft, as if the person on the other side was holding back from using too much force. Your heart skipped a beat as you crossed the room, smoothing your dress out before reaching for the handle. As soon as you opened it, there he was.

Clark stood in the doorway, his large frame filling the space like he belonged there. He was wearing one of his usual button-downs, but the top two buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of the smooth skin underneath. His hair, tousled from the breeze, was just begging to be touched. Those piercing blue eyes of his softened when they met yours, a slow, easy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and rich.

"Hey yourself," you replied, stepping back to let him in.

As he moved past you, you could feel the heat radiating off his body. There was always something about Clark that made the room feel smaller, like his presence filled every corner, every inch of space. Maybe it was because you knew who he truly was, or maybe it was just the raw power that he seemed to hold back every time he touched you—either way, it sent a shiver down your spine.

He glanced around the room, taking in the soft lighting, the music, and the wine. "Looks like you were expecting me," he teased, his eyes flicking back to yours.

"I might've been," you said, closing the door behind him. "Did you want a drink?"

Clark shook his head slightly. "Not right now," he murmured, his voice deepening as his gaze dropped from your eyes to your lips. "I had something else in mind."

You swallowed hard, the anticipation making your pulse race. You had spent enough time with Clark to know where this was headed, but tonight, there was a different kind of intensity in his eyes. Something that made your stomach flutter and your body heat up all at once.

Without another word, he stepped closer, his broad hand lifting to gently cup your face. His thumb brushed over your cheek, and the warmth of his skin against yours sent a delicious tremor through you. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them again to find him staring at you with an almost reverent expression.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft but insistent. The kiss was slow, savoring—like he had all the time in the world to explore the taste of your mouth. You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest to grip his shoulders. His body was hard beneath your touch, a solid wall of muscle that made you feel safe and completely overwhelmed all at once.

Clark's hands moved down, sliding along your sides until they rested on your hips. He pulled you closer, pressing you firmly against him as the kiss deepened. His tongue teased yours, coaxing soft whimpers from your throat as the heat between you grew more intense.

You felt the edge of the couch pressing against the backs of your thighs, but before you could react, Clark was lifting you effortlessly, setting you down on the soft cushions. He stood over you for a moment, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you, breathless and wanting beneath him.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

"Why don't you show me?" you whispered back, your voice barely steady.

Clark's eyes flared with something primal, something that made your heart race even faster. He slowly dropped to his knees in front of you, his large hands sliding up your legs, pushing your dress higher as he went. The fabric bunched around your hips, leaving your legs exposed to the cool air. You could feel your skin prickling under his touch, your breath catching in your throat as he leaned in, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thigh.

Your head fell back against the couch, your fingers tangling in the fabric as you fought to keep some semblance of control. But Clark wasn’t making it easy. His lips, warm and teasing, worked their way higher, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Clark," you gasped, your hips shifting as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them just enough for him to settle between them.

"I want to take my time with you." he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

And take his time he did.

Clark's lips traveled lower, brushing over the sensitive skin at the juncture of your thigh and hip. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, and you couldn't stop the soft moan that escaped your lips. He looked up at you then, his blue eyes dark with want, and the sight of him between your legs, looking up at you with such hunger, nearly undid you.

With deliberate slowness, his hands slid up to your hips, his fingers hooking into the thin waistband of your underwear. He pulled them down, the fabric sliding against your skin in a way that made your body hum with anticipation. The cool air brushed against your exposed skin, heightening the sensitivity of every nerve ending.

And then, Clark leaned in.

The first brush of his mouth against you was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through your body. You arched into him, a soft cry escaping your lips as he kissed you there, his tongue flicking out to taste you. He took his time, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of you like he was committing the experience to memory.

Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft, dark strands as you tugged him closer, needing more. Clark groaned against you, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through your body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as his tongue worked its magic, teasing and tasting in a way that had you trembling beneath him.

Every flick of his tongue, every press of his lips, was designed to drive you higher, to push you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling in your belly, tightening with every breath you took. Clark's name fell from your lips in a breathless moan as your hips moved against his mouth, chasing the release that was building inside you.

Clark responded to your need, his movements growing more insistent, more focused. He knew exactly what you needed, exactly how to push you over the edge, and he was relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure.

It didn’t take long before you were teetering on the edge, your body trembling as the tension built to an almost unbearable peak. Clark's name left your lips in a broken gasp, and then, with one final flick of his tongue, you shattered.

The pleasure washed over you in waves, your body arching off the couch as your orgasm consumed you. Your hands tightened in Clark's hair, holding him close as the sensation rolled through you, leaving you breathless and shaking. He stayed with you the entire time, his mouth never leaving your body as he coaxed every last drop of pleasure from you.

When you finally came down, your body limp and boneless against the couch, Clark pulled away, his lips and chin glistening as he looked up at you. The sight of him, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, was enough to send another shiver of want through you.

Without a word, Clark stood, his hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. You watched, still breathless, as he undid them slowly, one by one, revealing the broad expanse of his chest. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him—he was all muscle, hard and defined, with just the right amount of softness that made you want to touch every inch of him.

When his shirt finally hit the floor, you couldn't help but reach for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again. This kiss was different from the first—deeper, more intense, filled with the promise of what he was about to do to you.

His lips moved with a hunger that matched your own, and you could feel the desire coursing through him in the way his hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body. His muscles tensed under your fingers, the raw strength of him a constant reminder of just how powerful he was. And yet, there was always such care in the way he touched you, like you were something precious, something he couldn’t afford to break.

Clark’s hands slipped to the hem of your dress, his fingertips grazing your skin as he slowly began to lift it. You raised your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, and the cool air hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. His eyes darkened as they swept over your body, drinking you in as though it was the first time he’d ever seen you like this.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

The compliment sent a flush of warmth through you, your heart racing as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as his fingers trailed down your sides, brushing over your breasts and waist, igniting a fire everywhere he touched. The intensity in his gaze made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, like nothing else mattered except the two of you in this moment.

You reached up, your hands tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. The kiss you shared was slow and sweet, but the undercurrent of passion was undeniable, simmering just beneath the surface. The room around you seemed to blur, your senses overwhelmed by the taste of him, the feel of his strong body against yours, the heat between you growing hotter by the second.

“Clark…” His name was a whisper on your lips as he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours, searching for permission. He didn’t need to ask; you could see the need mirrored in his gaze, feel it in every deliberate movement he made.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice low and husky, making your body ache for him in ways you hadn’t known were possible.

“I want you,” you breathed, your hands sliding down his chest, fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants. “I need you.”

Clark’s pupils dilated at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. In one swift movement, he had you back against the cushions, his body hovering over yours, and you could feel the strength in every inch of him as he held himself above you, not letting an ounce of his weight press down on you unless you wanted it.

Your fingers fumbled with the button on his pants, desperate to feel more of him. He helped you, his hands moving quickly to rid himself of the remaining barrier between you. When his pants finally fell to the floor, he stood before you in nothing but his boxers, the fabric doing little to hide the evidence of his desire.

You reached out, your fingers sliding over the waistband of his boxers before gently pushing them down. He groaned as you touched him, his breath hitching as he kicked the last piece of clothing away. When he was finally bare before you, you couldn’t help but pause for a moment, taking in the sight of him—so perfect, so human, and yet so much more.

He knelt back down between your legs, his body hovering just above yours, the heat of him intoxicating as he pressed his forehead to yours. His breath was hot against your skin, and you could feel the tension in him, the way his muscles tensed as he held himself back, waiting for you to give him the signal to go further.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice rough with restraint, but you could see how badly he wanted to lose himself in you. It was the same way you wanted to lose yourself in him.

“Yes,” you whispered, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “I’m sure.”

Clark’s control snapped then, but even in his need, there was a tenderness to the way he touched you, a gentleness that made your heart swell. He pressed his body against yours, his lips finding yours again as he aligned himself at your entrance. The first brush of him against you was enough to make you gasp, your body already so sensitive from his earlier touch.

Slowly, he pushed into you, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. You moaned softly as he filled you, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming in the best possible way. He stilled for a moment, letting you catch your breath, and when you finally opened your eyes to look at him, you saw nothing but pure, unadulterated love in his gaze.

“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his forehead resting against yours.

“You too,” you breathed, your hands running through his hair as you pulled him into another kiss.

Once he was sure you were ready, Clark began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours. The slow, steady rhythm he set sent waves of pleasure rolling through you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to that edge. You clung to him, your bodies moving in sync, the world outside fading away as you became lost in each other.

The sounds of your combined moans and heavy breathing filled the room, a symphony of desire that made the heat between you burn hotter. Clark’s hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as his pace quickened, his restraint unraveling with each passing second. Every movement, every touch, was driving you higher, the tension building within you like a coil ready to snap.

“Clark,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders as you felt the tension in your belly tighten, threatening to break. “I’m close…”

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice strained as his own pleasure built. His thrusts grew faster, more intense, his control slipping as he chased his own release.

With one final thrust, you shattered. The pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as your orgasm ripped through you. You cried out his name, your vision going white as the sensation overwhelmed you. Clark followed soon after, a deep groan escaping his lips as he found his own release, his body tensing above you before he collapsed against you, his chest heaving with the force of it.

For a moment, the world was silent, the only sound the soft hum of the city outside and the heavy breathing between the two of you. Clark stayed inside you for a moment longer, savoring the intimacy of the moment before finally pulling out and collapsing beside you on the couch, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you into his chest.

Neither of you spoke for a while, the comfortable silence filled only with the sound of your breaths slowly returning to normal. You nestled into his side, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a sense of peace.

“You okay?” he finally asked, his voice a soft rumble that you felt more than heard.

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his chest. “More than okay,” you whispered, your hand resting over his heart. “That was… amazing.”

Clark let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “I’m glad I could be of service,” he teased, but there was an undeniable tenderness in his voice.

You shifted slightly, propping yourself up on one elbow to look down at him. His hair was a mess, sticking up in all directions, and there was a faint flush to his cheeks. But the way he was looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the entire world, made your heart swell with love for him.

“You’re incredible, you know that?” you said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Clark’s hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin in that gentle, familiar way that always made your heart flutter. “Only because of you,” he whispered, his voice soft and sincere.

You leaned down, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to his lips, and in that moment, everything felt perfect. The world outside could wait—right now, it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other under the soft glow of the moonlight streaming in through the window.

And you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

#clark kent #kal el #superman #dc fandom #dc fanfic #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #clark kent x reader #Clark Kent x fem! reader #Superman x fem! reader #superman smut #Clark Kent smut #henry cavill #tom welling #tyler hoechlin #david corenswet #loml <3

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strugglingwriterwattpad · 1 year ago

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wolfsbane chapter three - pack mentality

chapter three - pack mentality

Scott is left in utter disbelief as his vivid dream of being assaulted on a school bus suddenly materializes before his eyes. Desperate for solace, he turns to Derek for support, only to be warned that help won't come without a price. Derek reminds the young werewolf of the unintentional role he played in sabotaging Derek's date with (Y/N), making it clear that their friendship may be tested in the process.

Work count – 15.496

Wednesday, September 20th

As the rain poured down on the September night, it seemed to awaken a sense of adventure in the creatures of the night. From mischievous foxes rummaging through bins to young lovebirds seeking stolen moments, the atmosphere was ripe with excitement. Scott, too, longed for an undercover rendezvous with Alison, yearning for their private world under the cover of darkness. “Come on.” With hearts aflutter, the young couple dashed out of the school's main building and into the staff car park, their laughter echoing through the air as they revelled in their playful escapades. “Where are you taking me?” Above, the ominous flickering of fluorescent lights created a haunting scene, as their shadows danced across the wet pavement and disappeared behind the old, yellow buses. “Somewhere where we can be alone.“ Scott's face, bronzed by the sun, beamed with joy as he turned to Allison, never letting go of her hand. “We are alone...” the smiling boy positioned himself against the bus door, finding comfort as he leaned back. With a tender gesture, he drew Allison closer, their faces inching closer to one another. “Somewhere where we can be more alone.”

With a gentle push, Scott opened the folding door and cast his eyes upon Allison, who exuded an irresistible allure. Their gazes locked smiles lingering on their lips until Scott took the lead and guided her into the room. “Come on!” he strolled halfway down the aisle, then settled into the seat on the right side, leaning against the grimy window. Allison, feeling mischievous, plopped down on the seat opposite him and locked eyes with a playful smirk. He gazed at the brunette, his smile tinged with nervousness; she nonchalantly shrugged and mirrored his grin. With a nervous bite of his lip, the boy with captivating brown eyes mustered up the courage to approach his crush and take a seat beside her. Leaning over, he steadied himself by gripping the headrest in front of them, before gently pressing his lips against hers, which were beautifully adorned with gloss.

In a passionate embrace, the two locked lips, their desire intertwining like a synchronized dance. Scott's hands eagerly moved to unbutton Allison's blouse, while his other hand tightened its grip, his dark hair and nails digging into the leather, leaving marks of their intensity. With each kiss on Allison's delicate neck, Scott's control began to crumble, like fragile porcelain on the verge of shattering. As he felt his inner wolf growing more powerful, he quickly pulled away from Allison. He kept his head down, hiding his amber eyes and animalistic features behind his curly hair. Allison, still recovering from the intense desire that had clouded her mind, looked up at him with sleepy eyes and spoke softly in a hesitant tone. “What's wrong?” With a sudden jolt, Scott took a step back and pivoted on his heels. He leaned against the two seats behind him, his furry paws gripping the fabric tightly. His breathing grew more laboured, and he lowered his head as he spoke in a hushed and urgent tone. “Get away!” With a low, menacing growl, he pivoted, deliberately positioning himself to face away from Allison. As he did so, the bus appeared to bask in a gentle radiance emanating from his eyes, offering a stark contrast to the icy predator lurking within him. “Scott?” Gasping for breath, his forehead creased, his hairline forming a distinctive V-shape, and his sideburns extending into wild, untamed mutton chops. Allison positioned herself behind the troubled teenager, her face filled with worry as she observed him. “Scott?” she repeated. With his grip on control slipping, Scott pleaded for her to keep her distance, his voice punctuating his snarl. “Get away from me...”

With his ears elongating and their ends becoming pointed, and his fangs protruding as drool flowed down in heavy streams, he found himself unable to resist facing Allison, who, as anticipated, was overcome with fear and began to withdraw gradually. Gasping for air, Scott observed her intently, his sight tinged with a crimson haze. The wolf within him had triumphed in the struggle for control. With measured steps, Allison cautiously retreated down the aisle, while the boy, resembling a predator stalking its prey, advanced towards her. Completely clueless, Allison found herself at a loss for what to do. I mean, who wouldn't be in that situation? It's like one moment her boyfriend is showering her with passionate kisses, and the next he's chasing her down like a predator after its prey. Filled with terror, she let out a desperate moan and bolted towards the nearest exit, hoping to escape the chaos. Scott's lightning-fast reflexes kicked in as he swiftly dropped to his knees and seized her ankle, forcefully pulling her back towards him. The piercing sound of her screams reverberated within the confines of the metallic vehicle. Desperate to escape his inhuman grip, Allison frantically searched for something, anything, to cling onto and free herself from his clutches. The once flawless nails, now chipped, grazed against the cold metal legs of the seats. With determination, she managed to grasp onto one of the legs, finding support as she delivered a swift kick to her boyfriend's sculpted chest. With a sudden burst of energy, Allison sprang up and raced towards the front of the bus. However, her progress was halted by the seemingly impenetrable doors that blocked her path. She was stuck, with no way out.

Despite the small amount of moonlight that seeped into the bus, the girl's broken body was surrounded by a chilling pool of crimson liquid. However, her fear did not deter her from relentlessly pounding and striking the glass with every ounce of strength she had left in her petite frame. As the seat flew down the aisle, she instinctively pressed herself against the entrance, narrowly escaping being struck by it. Desperately, she wedged her bloodied fingers into the narrow gap between the door and the frame, only to witness Scott's eerie transformation as he slowly approached her once again. The creature’s eyes were now completely yellow and bloodshot, while Allison desperately pushed her fingers through the narrow opening in the door. With a final burst of strength, she managed to pry it open, only to be seized by the werewolf, its icy grip on her face sending shivers down her spine. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream and was forcefully pushed back, causing the door to slam shut once more. Her face collided with the window, and she surrendered to the chase as Scott's excitement grew.

(Y/N)'s day began like any other, with a soothing cup of lavender tea and a moment of tranquillity in her blossoming garden. The world around her appeared harmonious, devoid of any disruptions. After bidding farewell to her faithful feline companion, she ignited her engine and embarked on her daily journey into town. (Y/N) marvelled at the differences between Beacon Hills and her former homes. In New Orleans, she frequented small businesses and sought out handmade items, while in Texas, she found herself surrounded by big-box stores like Walmart and Target, with a Starbucks seemingly on every block. Despite the contrast, she enjoyed exploring the unique offerings of each place. Beacon Hills was the epitome of a harmonious blend, combining the best of both worlds. However, what truly captivated (Y/N)'s heart was the school itself. She yearned for the opportunity to attend classes and immerse herself in the same knowledge as her peers. Perhaps her life would have taken a different path had she been granted that chance. If only her teachers had shown more concern, things like her spelling skills would have improved. As she waited at the traffic light outside the school, she overheard a group of teenagers chatting and giggling. However, as soon as she rounded the corner, the atmosphere changed drastically. Parked by the staff entrance, a police car and an ambulance stood still. Uniformed officers, frozen in shock, witnessed the gruesome scene, some even succumbing to nausea. Suddenly, her eyes locked on the bus. Its vibrant yellow hue was now marred by the unmistakable splatters of blood. “Oh my god,” With a hushed tone, she carefully examined the metal frame, her eyes fixated on the unmistakable claw marks that were deeply engraved into it.

As the doors of the school groaned open, Scott and Stiles stepped inside, their minds already wandering to the endless possibilities of the day. “So, you killed her?” The werewolf struggled to convey the bizarre dream to his companion, but the more he recounted the details, the more vivid it became in his mind. He could only pray that Alison was nearby. “I don't know. I just woke up. I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before.” A look of astonishment crossed Stiles' face as he lifted his eyebrows in response to Scott's remark. “Really? I have. Usually ends a little differently...” the young wolf responded with a dismissive gesture of his eyes as if he had just rolled them in disbelief, all while holding his cup of coffee. “A) I mean I've never had a dream that felt that real, and B) Never give me that much detail about you in bed again.” With a quick nod, the buzzcut boy acknowledged the statement. “Noted.” Stiles hesitated, gathering his thoughts before mustering the courage to address something he knew Scott wouldn't be thrilled to hear. He cleared his throat and began to speak, his words carefully chosen. “Let me take a guess here—"

“No, I know. Do you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out?” A look of shock crossed Stiles' face as if he had been personally affronted by Scott's implication. “No, of course not.” his gaze bore into Stiles, his eyes filled with intensity. He had spent enough time with Stiles to see through his facade, and finally, Stiles relented, admitting defeat.”...Yeah, that's totally it,” Scott's gaze bore into Stiles, his eyes filled with intensity. He had spent enough time with Stiles to see through his facade, and finally, Stiles relented, admitting defeat. “Hey, come on! It's gonna be fine, all right? Personally, I think you're handling this pretty frickin' amazingly. You know, it's not like there's a Lycanthropy for Beginners class you can take.“ Scott's hands shot up in disbelief as he silently communicated his frustration to his best friend. However, Stiles' ridiculous joke sparked a new idea in his mind. Perhaps not a traditional textbook, but there could be other resources to help him learn. “Yeah... not a class, but maybe a teacher.“ Incoherent mutterings escaped his lips as Stile's head jerked back and forth, vehemently rejecting the thoughts that plagued Scott's mind. “Who, Derek? Are you forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?” Despite being fully aware of those facts, he couldn't help but respond in the same exasperated tone as the energetic teen. “Yeah, I know, but chasing Allison, dragging her to the back of the bus... it felt so real.“ With a hint of scepticism, Stiles rolled his eyes, his chocolate orbs reflecting his doubt, and retorted in his usual sarcastic tone. “How real?” he asked. The shapeshifted shrugged. “Like it actually happened.”

As Scott and Stiles made their way towards the back building, they both pushed open the back doors at the same time. However, just as they were about to continue walking to class, their steps came to an abrupt halt. Their eyes widened in shock, resembling saucepans, as they were met with a horrifying sight - an overwhelming amount of blood. Numerous police officers and an ambulance were stationed nearby, creating a scene of commotion. The air was filled with the sound of people conversing, occasionally interrupted by the loud pops of camera shutters. The sheriff's deputies had cordoned off the area surrounding one of the golden buses, which had its back covered in blood and its emergency exit door severely damaged. “...I think it did,” Stiles whispered.

Once more, the duo dashed through the corridors, with Stiles desperately attempting to calm down a frantic Scott. Sweat trickled down his face as he anxiously scrolled through his phone, desperately searching for any trace of a message or missed call from his crush. “She's probably fine-" “She's not answering my texts, Stiles.” Scott's eyes darted anxiously across the bustling hallways, desperately searching for any trace of Allison amidst the sea of students. He scanned the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of her familiar brown hair and those captivating amber eyes that always seemed to sparkle. However, no matter how hard he looked, there was no sign of her presence, no scent to guide him towards her. “It could just be a coincidence, all right?” tiles stumbled over his words, his speech faltering. The boy with the buzzcut was well aware that the evidence presented made his claim seem rather implausible. “A seriously amazing coincidence-“

“Just help me find her, okay?” Scott continued to pace back and forth as he made his way down the hallway, glancing at the numerous students he passed. The colour of his olive skin turned a deep shade of red, reflecting the anger and frustration he felt towards himself. “Do you see her?” Stiles, quieter than his closest pal, diligently shifted his gaze from left to right, rapidly surveying the crowd with utmost attentiveness. “No...” his eyes remained fixed on the scene, his fingers nervously tousling his hair. Suddenly, he quickened his pace and swiftly turned the corner, his composure slipping away. Stiles, also filled with panic, desperately tried to keep up but was swallowed by the bustling crowd. Meanwhile, Scott fought to regain control of his breath, his heart pounding loudly in his ears. Leaning heavily against a locker, he gripped it tightly with both hands. His eyes flickered from brown to gold as he let out a guttural scream, causing those nearby to jump in fright. With a forceful punch, he struck the blue metal door, causing it to shake and clang loudly, the sound echoing down the empty hallway as the hinges groaned. he snapped back to reality, realizing the gravity of his actions, and swiftly made his escape. He retreated down the hallway, eventually reaching a crossroads where he abruptly turned around, only to collide with another student - Allison. Her radiant smile and shimmering pink lips instantly eased the tension within the young wolf, as she playfully chuckled at his antics. “You scared the hell out of me!” A sigh escaped from Scott's lips, unable to be contained. His face lit up with relief as he gazed upon the stunning new girl, standing before him, full of life and vitality. ”You're okay!” As she assumed he was talking about the collision they just had, he knelt and picked up her books from the dirty ground beside her. “Once my heart starts beating again, yeah.” She joked. “What?” As she gazed upon him, she couldn't help but notice the expression of pure relief that washed over his face. “I'm just happy to see you.” His words flowed effortlessly, evoking a gentle blush that painted her cheeks in a subtle shade of pink. Just as their moment began to feel uncomfortable, the principal's voice broke the silence, resonating through the PA system in the background. “Attention students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses... While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as usual.”

A collective groan echoed through the hallway as the students heard the disappointing news. Meanwhile, Allison, seemingly oblivious to the principal's words, flashed a shy smile at Scott and playfully tousled his hair with her gentle touch. “Save me a seat at lunch?” she asked. he replied with a light nod, “Yeah.”

As Allison made her way to class, he watched her turn and start walking in the opposite direction towards his own destination. While he strolled down the hallway, he couldn't help but notice the faint sounds of a locker door creaking, which caught his attention when he reached the junction between the two halls. Jackson let out a frustrated groan as he shifted his attention towards his teammate, who was watching him with an intense gaze that only served to irritate him further. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't manage to get the locker shut, which only added to his mounting frustration. With a dismissive huff, he turned his cold blue eyes back to Scott. “What are you looking at, asswipe? A deep growl escaped his lips as his face flushed crimson with anger. Scott's guilty yet amused expression perfectly contrasted Jackson's furious countenance before he spun around and made his way to his class, feeling a sense of relief lifting the burden from his weary shoulders.

“I'm being serious Deaton! This isn’t just an animal. These killings aren’t just an animal going after prey. This beast went after the driver on purpose.” Blood trickled down her fingertips as she anxiously chewed on the torn skin around her nails. Her phone was tightly gripped in her other hand as she spoke worriedly to her friend. With each passing moment, she feared that her grip would cause the device to shatter into fragments. Despite the comforting words from Deaton, the caring veterinarian, she couldn't shake off the feeling of impending danger. “(Y/N) Please try not to panic yourself about this. Just because you are close by does not mean it knows you are here.” The calming voice was helping. “I know but how do you know.” She cried.

Derek strolled aimlessly through the supermarket, struggling to hold onto his bulging shopping bag. The chaos of his morning had taken an unexpected turn with the news of the attack. Although he was aware of what had occurred, it wasn't the kind of situation one would typically report to the authorities. As he stepped out of the now bustling store, the warm rays of the morning sun caressed his face, and his senses were immediately captivated by a familiar aroma. It was unmistakably (Y/N)'s blood that wafted through the air, emanating from across the street where she passionately vented her frustrations on the phone. Derek was deeply concerned when he noticed that her fingers were gnawed down to her hand. The sight of her stress and fear unsettled him, as he wanted nothing more than for her to be content and at ease, especially since he was looking forward to his date. “I'll see you later Deaton I’m gonna get some things for tonight then I'll be right there.” With a resolute gaze, she ended the call and embarked on a purposeful journey through the store. Clutching the assortment of items, she had gathered, he observed her peculiar selection at the checkout counter. It was a curious mix of cleaning chemicals that should never be combined, alongside mason jars and garden compost bins.

Exiting the supermarket, she tightly held her phone and scrolled through her contacts until she found Melissa's number. With a quick tap, she initiated the call. Placing her shopping bags on top of her parked car, she couldn't help but smile as she heard her friend's voice on the other end. Meanwhile, Derek observed the woman, eavesdropping on the conversation that followed. “hey Mel, quick and weird question.” She giggled nervously, “Do you happen to know any hunters in town or nearby?” As soon as the word "hunter" reached Derek's ears, his heart dropped and anxiety washed over him, causing his body to perspire profusely. “I need some animal bones for some new jewellery pieces…” A faint flutter in her chest betrayed a small untruth escaping her mouth. Derek briskly strode along the street, his worst fears becoming a reality. He was certain she had discovered his secret, perhaps even aware of Scott's involvement. The timing of her arrival in town on the same night as the Argents and her sudden interest in Hunters seemed too coincidental. The idea of his wolf forming a bond with a hunter was unsettling. However, he reminded himself not to jump to conclusions just yet. Perhaps her inquiry about jewellery was genuine, and he was being too quick to judge her. Taking some time to reflect might provide clarity. The question remained, though - would his wolf be willing to let her go?

“Maybe it was my blood on the door...” he mumbled in his seat. The chemistry classroom bustling with students, engrossed in discussing the bus attack. Stiles found himself seated in the second row from the back, sharing a two-person desk, while Scott occupied the desk directly in front, hindering their conversation. “Could have been animal blood.” stiles argued With a nonchalant shrug, Stiles motioned towards the pencil he held in his mole-decorated hand. back. Suddenly, silence fell upon them as their teacher, Mr. Harris, strode over to his desk, instilling fear in everyone. “You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something?” A look of sheer disbelief crossed his face as he heard the theory, leaving him visibly shocked. “And did what?” Mr. Harris continued writing notes on the chalkboard, as a beaker filled with clear liquid bubbled on a stand above a Bunsen burner. Upon hearing Stiles' voice, the teacher couldn't help but roll his eyes. “Ate it.” stiles finished. With a dismissive snort, the buzzcut teen shot Scott a pointed glare and retorted in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “No, you stopped to bake it in a little Werewolf oven! I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything.” The young wolf's offence lingered, yet both he and the other person failed to realize that their intimidating teacher had been observing their conversation. With a stern expression and hands on his hips, Mr. Harris couldn't hold back any longer and interjected in a snide tone, interrupting their discussion.

“Mr. Stilinski, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while. I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?” Harris, with a serious expression, locked eyes with secret werewolf and motioned towards the front of the classroom, indicating that he wanted Scott to relocate. He then repeated the gesture with Stiles, choosing a seat in the back but on the opposite side of where he was sitting. The duo let out frustrated sighs and begrudgingly gathered their books and papers, obediently making their way to their assigned desks. “Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much.” As the fluffy-haired boy took his seat at the desk, he noticed another student sitting beside him who appeared unfazed by the two’s mischievous behaviour. However, after a while, Scott's intuition kicked in and he felt a strange vibe. When he glanced back, he caught Jackson's intense gaze fixed upon him, clearly indicating that his captain was still determined to uncover his secret. Stiles' new desk partner glanced at the window and became instantly captivated by the commotion outside. Without hesitation, she sprang to her feet and hurried over to the window, eager to catch a closer glimpse in a flash. “Hey! I think they found something!”

The rest of the students, craving a diversion, leapt up and rushed towards the windows to join her. In the parking lot, an ambulance sat at a corner, its lights flashing and sirens blaring. Two paramedics swiftly pushed a stretcher carrying a middle-aged man towards the open doors at the back of the ambulance. Scott, filled with dread and convinced of the man's demise, glanced at his friend, who had come over to stand beside him. “That's not a rabbit...” Just as the paramedics were preparing to load the stretcher into the ambulance, an unexpected twist occurred. The man, who was previously lying down, swiftly sat up and tightly gripped the shoulders of the paramedics standing beside him. Fear consumed him, causing him to unleash a piercing scream that echoed through the air. “AHHHHH!” Startled by a sudden movement and a piercing scream, the students inside couldn't help but flinch. Overwhelmed, he retreated from the windows and positioned himself in the centre of the room. Sensing his distress, Stiles approached him, offering solace and support. “Okay. This is good. This is good! He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that.” A wave of despair washed over Scott as they received confirmation that someone had been gravely injured during the events of the previous night. Their face twisted with anguish, burdened by an overwhelming sense of guilt. “Stiles, I did that.”

Once chemistry had finished and lunch began, the duo abandoned the bustling lunch line, making their way towards an unoccupied table with their trays of food. Stiles leaned in close to his friend, his voice hushed but still audible. “But dreams aren't memories.” Scott placed his tray on the table, carefully setting down his backpack on the chair beside him. Stiles followed suit, mirroring his friend's actions. “Then it wasn't a dream...” Seated opposite each other, they carried on with their conversation, their words flowing nervously. “Something happened last night, and I can't remember what.”

“What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?” Scott shot Stiles a fearful glance, his eyes darting anxiously as he cautiously resumed his train of thought, speaking in hushed tones about the mysterious older wolf. “During my transformation, he wasn't changed. He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night, attacking some totally innocent guy.” Stiles let out a heavy sigh, reluctant to accept the truth of his own words. “You don't know that.” Scott remained unconvinced by the words of his closest companion. “I don't not know it.” he hesitated, nibbling on his lip as he pondered for a brief moment before letting out a sigh of resignation. “I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel.”

“No, you're not cancelling, okay? You can't just cancel your entire life! We'll figure it out.” suddenly, Lydia emerged from behind the werewolf, her gaze filled with curiosity as she forcefully placed her lunch tray on the table to Scott's left, capturing their attention. Her vibrant strawberry-blonde hair gracefully danced past her shoulders, adding to her captivating presence. “Figure out what?” she asked her voice dripping with a fake perkiness. Stiles was taken aback when his crush suddenly appeared, especially since she decided to sit next to them during lunch. This unexpected encounter made Stiles stumble over their words, feeling nervous and flustered. “Just, uh, homework...” Scott finished for him.

As Lydia's attention was momentarily diverted by a passerby, Stiles took the opportunity to lean in closer and share a hushed conversation with his sun-kissed companion. “Why is she sitting with us?” Scott stared in astonishment at Stiles and nonchalantly shrugged, conveying his ignorance with a simple gesture. In a sudden turn of events, additional individuals began to settle at their respective tables. A prominent member of the lacrosse team confidently claimed the seat at the head of the table, while Danny positioned himself on Stiles' right side. Scott glanced over and noticed Allison gracefully taking her place on his right, prompting a warm smile to grace his face as he swiftly shifted his backpack to make room for her. “Thanks!” Stiles found amusement in the arrival of another girl who took a seat beside him, prompting her to playfully roll her eyes. However, his annoyance was evident as he glanced at Scott, realizing their brainstorming session had been interrupted by the popular kids. In an attempt to avoid the situation, he unintentionally made eye contact with Danny, a fellow lacrosse team member, who responded with an eye roll, as if Stiles was the most tiresome thing, he had encountered all day, which might actually be true. “Get up.” Adding to the complexity of the unfortunate pair, Jackson approached the table and positioned himself next to the unidentified man. With an intense stare, he promptly instructed the man to vacate the premises. “How come you never ask Danny to get up?” the team member asked as he took himself out of the chair. “Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot,” Danny argued reminding the table of his interest in men instead of women.

With a forceful push, Jackson cleared the path and swiftly claimed his seat, leaving Scott with a disapproving frown as he witnessed Jackson's impolite behaviour. However, before any words could be exchanged between them, Danny interjected and initiated a fresh conversation. “So, I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar.” The rude blonde finished shovelling his lunch into his mouth before replying smugly. “I heard mountain lion.” Lydia's gaze fixed on her tray as she broke the silence with an irritated tone. "a cougar is a mountain lion." Jackson and Danny exchanged puzzled glances, taken aback by her unexpected response. Lydia, suddenly aware of the impression she was giving, attempted to backtrack, causing her confidence to waver and her facade to crumble. “...Isn't it?” With a single raised eyebrow and a dismissive scoff, Jackson gulped down his bite, his eyebrow furrowing with scepticism. “Who cares? The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway.” Stiles, engrossed in his phone as he delved into the details of the case, abruptly interjected as new information flooded in. “Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out.” The teenager swiftly grabbed his phone, his captivating brown eyes drawing everyone's attention. He played a video, tilting the phone to share the captivating content with the rest of the group. The video, taken from the local news website, showcased a reporter passionately narrating the latest news story.

“The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Myers, did survive the attack. Myers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition.”

“Wait, I-I-I know this guy.” Scott's breath caught in his throat as he realized the identity of the man labelled as the victim. “You do?” With a nervous stutter, Alison prayed that the injured man held no significance in her crush's life. “Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver.” A knowing glance passed between Scott and Stiles, just as the popular girl interjected with a tone that oozed both boredom and irritation. “Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please? Like...” Lydia's eyes widened in astonishment as a brilliant idea struck her. Without wasting a moment, she swiftly shifted her attention towards the new girl, completely disregarding Scott who was seated right in the middle of them. “Oh, where are we going tomorrow night?”

Confusion clouded Allison and Scott's faces, revealing their complete lack of understanding. Sensing their bewilderment, Lydia stepped in to provide a clear explanation. “You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow, right?” the brunette eyebrows shot up in surprise as she anxiously swallowed, fully aware of Lydia's impending actions. Desperately, she attempted to act nonchalant, hoping that Lydia would refrain from getting involved. “Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do...” With a remorseful glance, Allison acknowledged her crush, fully aware that Lydia was on the verge of inserting herself and her nasty boyfriend into their plans. Stiles, too, had a sudden realization, evident from the widening of his eyes. As expected, Lydia wasted no time in doing exactly what they had anticipated. “Well, I am not sitting home again, watching lacrosse videos, so if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun.” Scott stood frozen in disbelief as the unexpected turn of events left him utterly speechless.

“H-H-Hanging out? Like, the four of us?” Allison skilfully masked her frustration as their plans were abruptly interrupted, taking a discreet sip from her water bottle while Scott looked on. “Do you wanna hang out?” Reluctantly, Scott managed to utter the remaining words, visibly despising the concept. Sensing the impending catastrophe, Stiles quickly placed his hand over his mouth to refrain from interrupting. Allison, equally unenthusiastic about the idea as Scott, didn't want to offend her new acquaintance and cautiously responded. “Yeah! ...I guess... Sounds fun...”

Lydia was the only one thrilled about the double date, evident from the irritated look on Jackson's face. He made his frustration known by dramatically lifting his fork in the air. “You know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the face with this fork.” Frustrated by his impoliteness, his girlfriend snatched the fork from his grasp, while Stiles, casually sipping from his water bottle, rolled his eyes and gestured animatedly, disapproving of his friend being insulted in such a manner. “How 'bout bowling? You love to bowl.” Unfazed by the captain’s remarks, Lydia brushed them off and carried on with their date preparations as if he hadn't uttered a word. “Yeah, with actual competition.” Allison couldn't help but feel offended for both her and Scott, so she decided to speak up. She made sure to maintain a friendly and competitive tone in her voice, wanting to address the situation differently. “How do you know we're not "actual competition? You can bowl, right?” Scott's desperate desire to avoid being outshined by Jackson or feeling any more inadequate than he already did led him to resort to blatant lies, spoken with all the conviction of a human being. “yeah… In fact, I'm a great bowler.”

As the young wolf pedalled his bike to the animal clinic, he propped it against the brick building and hurriedly entered. Inside, Alan was already in the exam room when Scott arrived, and without wasting a moment, Scott began apologizing for being late. “Sorry, sorry...” he repeated. While busy unpacking boxes on a metal table, Deaton couldn't resist playfully rolling his eyes at the tanned boy, who had a bright smile that lit up the room. “You're all of two minutes late.” In the corner of the room, Scott gently placed his bag on the floor. “I just don't want you to think I'm slacking...” Deaton smiled and scoffed at him in amusement “Scott, I guarantee you, you're one of the least slacking kids in this town. Besides if I needed help (Y/N)s in her office still.” Just as if it were planned, the office door swung open and then closed, revealing the room's owner entering with a cheerful smile and a stack of books in hand. “evening Scott. How was school?” With a simple question, she managed to bring a wide grin of delight to the teenage boy's face, as he basked in the warmth of her presence. “okay for school I guess glad it's over for the day.” With a light giggle, she delicately placed the books on the desk behind the men before swiftly turning back around. “all my friends in New Orleans used to say that school can’t be that bad right?” With a tilt of his head, Scott directed his gaze towards her, his brown eyes filled with confusion. “were you home-schooled?” Curiosity piqued; he inquired about the intriguing young woman who had become the sole topic of conversation for his mother. “I guess you could call it that.” She squeaked turning back round to her books. “Also, before I forget. I'm missing one of my cryptid books has anyone seen it?” Scott's gaze shifted towards the goth woman, who wore a pained expression on her face as she mourned the loss of one of her beloved books. “no sorry I’ll keep an eye out for it.” he promised.

As Scott was organizing things on a back table, he glanced over and spotted Sheriff Stilinski standing by the exam room door, his expression stern and serious. Instantly, a wave of anxiety washed over the teenager, fearing that the officer had discovered his attempt to harm Garrison Myers and had come to apprehend him. Panic set in, causing Scott to gulp nervously. However, to his surprise, Stilinski simply opened the door, his face transforming into a smile as he revealed that he had brought one of the K-9-unit dogs for a routine check-up. His boss confirmed this with a welcoming gesture, putting Scott's worries to rest. “Hey! I see somebody's ready to get their stitches out!” With a joyful expression, (Y/N) gently caressed the pooch, her talon-like nails providing a unique sensation. She showered the dog with affection, allowing it to shower her face with kisses, treating it like a cherished baby.

Deaton hunched down and gently tapped his knees, coaxing the dog to sit obediently, as Stilinski removed his sunglasses and approached the hidden creature with a warm greeting. “Hey there, Scott. You staying out of trouble?” he asked pointing towards the young wolf with a smirk. Stilinski's sudden arrival left him completely surprised. He observed as Deaton gently lifted the German Shepherd, its leg carefully bandaged, and placed it on the table. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly realized he had been asked a question and responded with a simple nod. “how are you (Y/N)?” With her cheeks covered in dog slobber, he redirected his attention towards (Y/N) and watched as she wiped it away. “better now I've had puppy kisses.” She joked.

Luckily, Noah was too preoccupied with Deaton's evaluation of the dog to pick up on Scott's anxious behaviour. Without a second thought, the man of law shifted his attention towards discussing work with the veterinarian. “Hey, listen, While I'm here, you mind taking a look at those pictures I was telling you about?” Noah extended the brown file to Deaton, gesturing for him to open it. The label on the envelope, marked as evidence, sent a shiver down Scott's spine. “Sacramento still can't determine an animal.” With a hint of uncertainty in his voice, Deaton accepted the envelope and eagerly tore it open, revealing a stack of photographs. As he carefully flipped them upright, his curiosity grew, compelling him to delve into each image. Meanwhile, (Y/N) stared intently at the photos, fully aware of the underlying truth, yet apprehensive about the potential peril that awaited her if she were to disclose it to the sheriff. In a silent exchange, the two workers acknowledged their shared understanding of the situation at hand. “I'm not exactly an expert... Oh, this is the guy who was attacked on the bus?” Deaton asked. “Yeah. And, we found wolf hairs on Laura’s body.”

“A wolf?” the sheriff’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as he caught Scott's attention. He turned to face him, only to see Scott's panicked expression, realizing he had unintentionally drawn attention to himself and his potential involvement. “I mean, I think I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for, like, sixty years...” Alan, noticing his employee’s reaction, looked up at him with a curious expression, as if he possessed knowledge that Scott was unaware of. “True enough, but wolves are highly migratory. They could have wandered in from another state, driven by impulse or strong enough memory.” (Y/N) informed Scott shocking him with her knowledge. (Y/N) stared directly into the image, envisioning herself being harmed by the creature. She couldn't help but wonder if Beacon Hills was truly the safest place for her. “Wolves have memories?”

“Longer-term memories, yes-- if associated with a primal drive. See this one here?” Stilinski and Scott eagerly leaned in as the vet once again presented the photos. This time, it was a different picture of Myers, lying on a hospital bed. The focus of the image was on his face, revealing deep claw marks that ran vertically from his brow, down the side of his face, past his temple, and onto his cheek. Another set of marks followed the same direction, starting from under his eye and ending at his mouth. Additionally, there was a third gash on the side of his neck, cutting diagonally from under his ear towards his Adam's apple. Noah nodded, acknowledging that he understood what Deaton was trying to convey. “Those are claw marks. A wolf would have gone for the throat or the spinal cord with its teeth. A wolf could chase down its prey, hobbling it by tearing at the ankles and then the throat...” (Y/N) nodded her head lightly agreeing with Alan’s explanation.

In a sudden rush of memories, Scott relived the previous night when he had completely transformed into a fearsome Werewolf. He vividly remembered how he had reached out and caught hold of Allison's ankle, preventing her from escaping down the aisle towards the bus exit. With a powerful tug, he pulled her back towards him, causing her to scream in terror, mirroring the haunting wounds captured in the photographs before him.

As Scott finished his work for the day, a sense of relief washed over him. He had been working tirelessly, juggling multiple projects, and finally, he could take a break. However, his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of his mother, who had been working at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital all day long. Determined to ‘check’ on her and offer some much-needed food, Scott made his way towards the hospital. Little did he know that fate had something unexpected in store for him. As he stepped out of the building, he noticed a familiar figure leaning against a vintage car parked nearby smoking an odd-smelling cigarette. It seemed to be a mixture of sage and something else, but he couldn’t figure out the other smell. "Hey, Scott," (Y/N) greeted him, her voice filled with genuine concern. “I was always heading to the hospital to speak to your mum. Do you want a ride?" she asked stomping her large platform Dr. Martens on the remains of the ciggy. Scott's eyes widened in surprise and gratitude. He hadn't expected anyone to offer him a ride, let alone (Y/N) in her classic car. It was a beautiful vehicle, a symbol of nostalgia and elegance, just like (Y/N) herself. Without hesitation, he nodded, accepting her kind offer. As they made their way towards the car, Scott noticed several boxes neatly stacked in the backseat. Curiosity piqued, he couldn't help but ask, "What's with all the boxes?" he asked hearing the engine start-up. “oh, it's just some stuff for home. gardening stuff and some cat litter.”

The car ride was filled with an air of silence between the two colleagues, with soft music playing in the background. The tunes were a blend of rock and roll and classic hits from the 70s and 80s, unfamiliar to him. However, their journey came to a halt as they approached the hospital, causing her to decelerate and find a parking spot.

As they strolled towards the nurse's station in the ER, both of them wore bright smiles. His mother, who was busy working, couldn't help but burst into laughter when she caught sight of him. Her smile grew even wider when she noticed (Y/N) standing right beside him. “Is my beautiful, talented, and wonderful son actually bringing me dinner and my favourite adopted daughter.” Leaning against the desk, Scott's smile widened as he observed the other nurses recoil in disgust, their eyes burning with fury. Their collective gaze fixated on (Y/N) as if she had just committed an unforgivable act. Sensing their judgment, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel her body tense up with nervousness, causing her to curl inwards. “Thought you wouldn't mind skipping the cafeteria tonight...” he muttered trying to distract himself from the nurses. “You are the most thoughtful, loving...Most conniving little con artist ever.” Unable to contain her amusement, (Y/N) burst into laughter at the sight of his mother's knowing grin. In an instant, his clever scheme crumbled to pieces. “You are so not getting the car tomorrow night. There's a curfew no car.” She sighed placing the bag of food down on the counter before pulling (Y/N) into a tight hug. “so, I was thinking girls night?”

Scott was on the verge of departing through the same route he had entered but abruptly halted as he detected a familiar fragrance, compelling him to reverse his steps. He trailed the scent beyond the nurse's station and down the corridor until he reached the very end, where he discovered the room where Garrison Myers had been admitted. Swiftly and discreetly, he entered the room, ensuring no one caught sight of him. Scott hesitantly drew back the curtain that divided the room, revealing Myers peacefully lying in bed, his eyes shut tight in slumber. The sight of his former bus driver, with his head swathed in bandages and his body marked by wounds, sent a wave of shame and horror crashing over Scott. A clear sign of the severity of the attack, Myers had an IV in his right arm and was receiving oxygen through a nasal cannula. In a hushed tone, he finally found the courage to speak up. “Mr. Myers...? are you okay?” In a matter of seconds, a flicker of recognition crossed his face as he locked eyes with Scott, triggering a sudden surge of panic. His mouth opened, but instead of words, only gasps escaped as he desperately attempted to prop himself up. Frantically, he clutched onto Scott's sleeve, yanking him closer, his distress amplifying with each passing moment. he struggled to break free from his grip, but the situation escalated rapidly as Myers unleashed piercing screams, prompting Melissa to rush into the room. “What the hell are you doing in here? Get out now!”

(Y/N) whisked him away from the hospital and escorted him back to his residence, determined to protect him from any potential harm. "In case of any trouble, he can always rely on me since his mother is extremely concerned," she assured, her voice filled with genuine care and concern. As they manoeuvred into his driveway, Scott let out a deep sigh, feeling the heavy burden of concealing his werewolf identity taking its toll on him.

The weight of his secret was suffocating, and he longed for someone to confide in, someone who could understand the struggles he faced. But the fear of rejection and the potential danger it could bring to his loved ones kept him silent. He knew that revealing his true nature could put not only himself but also those around him in grave danger. If he had it, his way Stiles wouldn’t know either. He worried every day his best friend would get harmed because of him. "I can't confide in anyone," he uttered, his voice laced with frustration and sadness. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air as he slammed the car door, the sound of shattering glass echoing his inner turmoil. The shattered window served as a physical representation of the shattered trust and isolation he felt.

(Y/N) watched him with a mix of sympathy and understanding, her heart aching for the young man who carried such a heavy burden. She muttered under her breath, "Teenagers these days," a small hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She knew all too well the struggles of adolescence and the challenges of keeping secrets. With a final glance at Scott's residence, she drove off to her own abode, her mind filled with thoughts of how she could support him and help him navigate the treacherous path he walked. She knew that being there for him, even if he couldn't confide in her, was a small but significant way to offer him solace and support.

As the car disappeared into the distance, Scott stood in his driveway, the weight of his secret still heavy on his shoulders. But in that moment, he felt a glimmer of hope, knowing that he had someone in his corner, someone who cared enough to whisk him away from the hospital and offer him a safe haven. And perhaps, in time, he would find the strength to confide in someone, to share the burden that threatened to consume him.

Thursday, September 21st

The deputy parked his cruiser near the Hale House ruins and stepped out, taking a moment to survey the surroundings. After a quick visual scan, he reached for his radio and made a call to dispatch. “It looks pretty deserted, dispatch. Did you want me to take a look inside?”

“Unit Sixteen, it's county property. Orders are to make sure it's vacant.” Standing amidst the desolation of the Hale House, the deputy couldn't hide his unease. And he was right to be uncomfortable because he was being watched. “I don't... I don't think anyone's home.” Derek, still a prime suspect in the murder investigation, had taken refuge in the deserted house. His gaze fixated on the officer, his mind racing with anticipation. “For the love of God, Sixteen, go inside and see if anyone's there!” Irritated, the deputy let out a frustrated sigh as he cautiously approached the house. Yet, as soon as he took a step forward, the K-9-unit dog in the backseat erupted into a frenzy of barks, intensifying the deputy's unease. Startled by the sudden noise, he swiftly turned to reprimand the dog. “Don't do that!”

As the deputy approached the house, he couldn't spot Derek standing just behind the window on the second floor due to his angle. Derek, peering outside through the shattered glass, caught a glimpse of the deputy. With his piercing blue Werewolf eyes, he unnerved the dog, causing it to bark louder and more anxiously. It was evident that Derek's presence had intimidated the canine, establishing his dominance in the hierarchy. As the dog's panic escalated, its saliva sprayed across the partially open window, leaving the deputy feeling increasingly unsettled. Determined to uncover the cause of the dog's distress, the deputy searched for any signs of what was alarming it. The dog's anxiety intensified, prompting it to thrust its head out of the rear window. Convinced that he had thoroughly investigated the situation, the deputy reluctantly returned to the car, offering comforting words to the agitated canine. “Okay, I'm coming, I'm coming...”

As the deputy settled into the driver's seat and started the car, the persistent barking of the dog persisted. Derek, who had been observing from a distance, couldn't help but feel a sense of relief and satisfaction as he realized he had successfully avoided being caught squatting in his own home. Just as the car disappeared from view, Derek's attention was drawn to the sound of approaching footsteps. He turned to see Scott emerging from the woods that marked the boundary of the Hale property. The teenager hesitated, his anxiety causing him to fidget from one foot to the other while Derek remained hidden from view. Eventually, Scott grew impatient and took the initiative to break the silence and speak his mind. ”I know you can hear me. I need your help.”

As the rain began to pour, Scott sought shelter on the porch. Finally, Derek emerged from the house, but his silence and blank stare made it clear that Scott would need to put in more effort to get his help. With a sigh, he prepared to persevere. “Okay, I know I was part of you getting arrested... and that we basically announced you being here to the Hunters... I also don't know what happened to your sister...” Scott's words poured out incessantly, but Derek remained stoic, his gaze fixed on Scott without revealing any emotion. “But I think I did something last night. I had a dream about...” he paused briefly, reluctant to reveal his ongoing connection with Allison, but ultimately chose to maintain a guarded demeanour. “Someone... but someone else got hurt. And, it turns out that part of the dream might have actually happened-“

“You think you attacked the driver?” Derek interrupted his green eyes empty of any emotion towards the boy. Scott's demeanour shifted to one of disbelief, his expression mirroring his incredulity. “Did you see what I did last night?” It was clear that he suspected Derek of withholding information as if Derek possessed a deeper understanding of the situation than he was willing to reveal. “No.”

“Can you at least tell me the truth? Am I gonna hurt someone?”

“Yes.”

“Could I kill someone?”

“Yes”

“Am I gonna kill someone?”

“Probably”

Scott's face contorted with the weight of his emotions, teetering on the edge of tears, as he slowly made his way towards the edge of the porch. He deliberately kept his back turned to Derek, unable to face the reality of becoming a killer. Observing his struggle, Derek let out a weary sigh, eventually succumbing to a wave of compassion for his wolf brother. “Look, I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift, even on a full moon. But it's not gonna come for free.” Scott's spirits were low, leaving him unable to muster the energy to engage in an argument. Moreover, he found himself unable to meet Derek's gaze, adding to his despondency. “What do you want?”

“You'll find out.” In a momentary pause, Derek collected his thoughts, while Scott's eyes remained locked on the front of the house. “But, for now, I'm gonna give you what you want.” Without turning his body towards Derek, Scott subtly shifted his gaze to catch a glimpse of him from the corner of his orbs. “Go back to the bus. Go inside. See it. Feel it. Let your senses-- your sight, smell, touch. let them remember for you.” Confusion and disbelief etched deep lines on Scott's forehead as he tried to make sense of the situation before him. “That's it? Just-just go back?” With a curious gaze, Derek fixed his eyes on the young wolf. “Do you want to know what happened?” With a vulnerable expression, Scott finally mustered the courage to meet Derek's gaze. “I just want to know if I hurt him.” Derek had an uncanny ability to understand Scott's deepest fears. It was as if he could sense the very same fear that had haunted him years ago. And now, history was repeating itself as Scott found himself terrified of the very same thing. With a knowing glance, Derek confronted him about it, making it clear that he had noticed. ” No, you don't. you want to know if you'll hurt her.”

As darkness enveloped the surroundings, Scott and Stiles arrived at the school in Stiles' trusty Jeep, opting for a secluded route near the woods. Stepping out of the car, Scott motioned for his friend to stay behind, cautioning him to remain at a safe distance. “Hey, no, just me. Someone needs to keep watch.” He spoke sternly scolding the driver like a dog. “How come I'm always the guy keeping watch?” Ignoring Stiles, the werewolf swiftly intervened as he witnessed his friend attempting to scale the chain-link fence separating the parking area from the school bus bay, firmly grasping his shoulder and preventing him from proceeding further. “Because there's only two of us!” With a sudden step back, Stiles descended to the ground level, his finger pointing directly at Scott, his voice filled with accusation. “Okay, why's it starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin?” As Scott cast a frustrated glance his way, Stiles couldn't help but scoff once more, unimpressed by the situation. “I don't want to be Robin all the time!” Scott, feeling just as exasperated, fired back with a response of his own. “Nobody's Batman and Robin any of the time!” Stiles felt a mix of offence and disappointment as the argument came to a close. “Not even some of the time?” With a heavy sigh, Scott issued his last command, his voice filled with authority. “Just stay here.” Stiles let out an exasperated sigh, as if Scott were his father, constantly dictating his every move. “Oh, my God! Fine.”

Stiles made his way back to the Jeep while Scott effortlessly scaled the chain-link fence. As he approached the buses, a wave of unease washed over him, his apprehension evident. It was clear that he was terrified of what awaited him, yet he understood the importance of facing the truth head-on. Pausing briefly, he halted his actions, shut his eyes, and inhaled deeply, seeking solace in his senses, longing for his body to aid in recollecting what his mind had failed to retain. In an instant, a torrent of memories from the previous night flooded his consciousness, engulfing him completely.

The schoolboy found himself lying in bed, his body covered only by his boxers. The distant sound of a wolf's howl pierced through the silence, causing him to grip the blankets tightly before rolling over to the opposite side. As the howling persisted, Scott's restlessness grew, causing him to toss and turn, his face and chest drenched in sweat. Eventually, the mounting tension within him reached its breaking point, and Scott abruptly woke up, his eyes gleaming with a golden hue and his fangs ominously extended.

Scott's eyes snapped open, a jolt of surprise coursing through him. He took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain his composure. As he unclenched his fists, he steeled himself for the next step, his curiosity mingling with fear. Ignoring the crime scene tape, he made his way towards the bus, his determination unwavering. Pausing momentarily, he prepared himself mentally before reaching out to touch the door. Suddenly, a vivid image from his dream last night overwhelmed him, leaving him momentarily stunned.

In his complete Werewolf transformation, Scott forcefully pushed Allison, causing her to collide with the door. The sight of her bloodied forehead and cheek, visible through the glass, sent shivers down her spine as she let out a piercing scream of terror.

The tanned boy stood there, gasping for air, feeling completely overwhelmed by the situation. He hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before finally reaching out to open the folding door of the bus. Step by step, he ascended the stairs, his movements slow and deliberate. As he reached the top, he turned around, his gaze sweeping down the aisle, taking in the entire length of the bus. Seeking support, he clutched onto the back of a nearby seat, only to be struck by a sudden flashback from his dream, leaving him breathless.

With a complete transformation, Scott swiftly seized the brown brown-haired girl's ankle and forcefully pulled her towards the rear of the bus, causing her to scream in terror.

Scott's heart raced with horror as he found himself trapped in a relentless cycle of shifting between reality and his haunting dream, only to discover that even his dream was plagued by the unsettling echoes of what truly occurred.

With a relentless grip, the creature resembling Scott kept dragging Allison down the aisle, her cries echoing through the air. In the midst of Allison's piercing scream, another scream echoed through the air, this time from a man. The scene shifted in memory, replaying the same intense moment, but this time it was Garrison Myers who found himself being forcefully dragged by his ankle, not Allison.

Scott's face twisted in disbelief as the full sequence of events from the previous night unravelled in his mind. The realization that he had brutally killed Garrison Myers hit him like a ton of bricks, leaving him horrified. He released his grip on the seat and proceeded to walk down the aisle, his steps slow and heavy. The sight of blood-splattered seats ahead only intensified his shock.

In Scott's mind, he revisited his dream, reliving the moment when he underwent a complete transformation. With immense strength, he tore out a seat from the back of the bus and hurled it in the direction of his crush, who desperately sought an escape through the front door.

The teenager was overwhelmed by the intensity of the flashback, causing him to instinctively shield his face with his hands and flinch as if the seat were actually hurtling towards him. He let out a gasp, his breaths coming in short bursts as he struggled to regain composure. Gradually, he realized that it was merely a flashback and slowly lowered his arms, his heart still racing. With a cautious step, he began to walk down the aisle, his eyes darting around to absorb every visual detail, from the mist forming on the windows to the stains of blood on the seats. As he glanced down at the floor, he was abruptly pulled back into another flashback, this time reliving the actual events that had taken place.

Mr. Myers found himself sprawled on the floor of the bus; his body positioned in an unconventional manner. His head pointed towards the front while his feet stretched towards the back. Desperately clutching onto the bar securing the nearby seat, he extended his right hand towards Scott, pleading for assistance, his cries echoing through the air. As the true sequence of events unfolded, Scott extended his hand towards Myers, desperately hoping to offer him assistance while he cried out in distress.

The brown-eyed wolf's gaze lifted, only to meet the terrifying sight of the monstrous Werewolf that had inflicted the bite on him. With a menacing growl, the creature raised its clawed hand high in the air before swiftly slashing at Scott's chest, leaving a deep gash. Scott let out a sharp breath, his hand instinctively reaching for his chest as if to halt the flow of blood. It took him a moment to realize that the pain he felt was a lingering reminder from the previous evening's injury and not a fresh wound.

The robin of the group sat in the driver's seat of his Jeep outside the chain-link fence, nervously rubbing his head and leaning on his left hand. With (Y/N)'s book in his lap, he noticed headlights flashing across the parking lot. Without hesitation, he honked the horn loudly to alert Scott, realizing they had to leave quickly to avoid being caught.

The werewolf, his mind reeling from the shocking revelation, realized that he wasn't the one responsible for the attack. Instead, he had been trying to shield Myers from the true assailant. Doubtful, he glanced down at his chest once more to ensure he hadn't sustained any injuries. Suddenly, the blaring sound of a honking horn startled him, causing him to jump in surprise. In a frenzy, he spun around and sprinted down the bus aisle, swiftly exiting through the front door and effortlessly leaping over the crime scene tape. Using a red SUV as his launching pad, he gracefully flipped over the chain-link fence, resembling a nimble gymnast. As he landed, he executed a graceful somersault before dashing towards Stiles' Jeep. Inside, his human friend anxiously drummed his hands on the steering wheel while muttering to himself. “Come on! Come on!” stiles mumbled.

As Stiles inserted his key into the ignition, Scott swiftly flung open the passenger door and hopped in, his voice filled with urgency as he commanded Stiles to flee the scene immediately. “Go! Go! Go! Go!” With a forceful press on the gas pedal, Stiles sent the car hurtling backwards along the familiar road, only to abruptly slam on the brakes moments later and execute a thrilling spin at the crossroads. “Did it work? Did you remember?” Zooming away from the school, the human glanced at Scott. With his right arm hanging out the window, he tightly clutched the Jeep's roof to secure himself in the seat, as there was no time to fasten his seatbelt. “Yeah, I was there last night. And the blood? A lot of it was mine. I-I-I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek.”

Scott's gaze narrowed, his brow furrowing as he attempted to piece together the fragments of what he had just witnessed. “What about the driver?” the Adderall addict asked. “I think I was actually trying to protect him.” Stiles briefly contemplated the situation, but it didn't take long for him to spot a flaw in Scott's argument, resulting in a disapproving expression on his mole-infested face. “Wait…why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?” Frustration etched on Scott's face as he shook his head, unable to provide a solution. “That's what I don't get.”

“It's gotta be a pack thing.” With a leather-bound book in hand, Stiles caught the wolf's attention as the familiar spine, adorned with moons, made the wolf furrowed his brows. “check the book for me?” stiles asked. “this is (Y/N) why did you steal it?” With a hesitant start, he began flipping through the pages of the book, searching for the vibrant sticky notes that his friend had a reputation for employing excessively. “somethings wrong with her Scott. I've been trying to read this, and every single thing has been correct.” As Scott perused the pages of the book, he couldn't help but notice the dreadful spelling, yet he was captivated by the exquisite illustrations showcasing a variety of wolf eye colours and the enchanting allure of wolfsbane and fangs. “There is no way she doesn’t know werewolves exist. She got to be involved with the hunters.” The two teens slowly looked at each other with worry. “and she’s friends with our parents…” Scott muttered. “don’t worry about it for now. Just go on your date and enjoy the night.” Things couldn’t get worse.

Derek arrived at the gas station in his sleek black Camaro, ready to refuel. As he stepped out of the car, he couldn't help but notice the tranquillity that enveloped the night. The only sounds that broke the silence were the rhythmic blinking lights and the gentle hum of the pump. The gas station, nestled on the outskirts of town, seemed like an oasis of calm amidst the chaos of everyday life. The air was crisp and cool, carrying with it a hint of gasoline and the faint scent of freshly cut grass. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a soft glow over the surroundings, and illuminating the rows of neatly lined fuel pumps.

Derek took a moment to appreciate the stillness, feeling a sense of peace wash over him. It was a rare moment of solitude in a world that never seemed to stop moving. The blinking lights, like tiny stars, seemed to guide him towards the pump, their steady rhythm creating a hypnotic effect. As he reached for the fuel nozzle, he marvelled at the simplicity of the scene. The gentle hum of the pump provided a soothing background melody as if nature itself had composed a symphony for this quiet moment. The sound seemed to blend seamlessly with the distant chirping of crickets, creating a harmonious chorus that echoed through the night.

As he glanced up from refilling his car tank, the sun's rays glinting off the metal, he heard the distinct sound of another vehicle entering the gas station. The familiar rumble of an engine caught his attention, and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the peach-coloured car pulling in. It was a car he recognized all too well, one that belonged to the person he referred to as "Y/N." Without acknowledging his presence, Y/N headed straight to the shop, her steps heavy and burdened. He couldn't help but notice the weariness in her movements, the weight of the world seemingly resting on her shoulders. A wave of sadness emanated from her, palpable even from a distance, causing his heart to ache in empathy.

His attention shifted to her car, parked haphazardly near the gas pump. His eyes widened as he noticed a shattered window, shards of glass glinting in the sunlight. Fear gripped him tightly, squeezing his chest as he considered the possibilities. Had the alpha finally caught her, Or had Scott done something to her, causing this destruction? Anger began to consume him, a fiery rage that clouded his thoughts and fuelled his determination. He clenched his fists, his knuckles turning white as he imagined the pain Y/N must have endured. How dare anyone lay a hand on her, how dare they cause her such distress? The protective instincts within him surged forward, overpowering any rationality that remained.

Without a second thought, he abandoned the gas pump, leaving his own car behind as he stormed towards the shop. The sound of his footsteps echoed in his ears, matching the pounding of his heart. He pushed open the door, the bell above chiming in protest, and his eyes locked on Y/N, who stood near the counter, her face etched with a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. His voice, laced with a controlled fury, cut through the air, demanding answers. "What happened, Y/N? Who did this to you?" His words hung heavy in the tense atmosphere, his gaze never leaving her as he awaited her response. With a smile directed at the cashier, she made her purchase of a lighter, rolling papers, and a petite bottle of vodka, trying hard to ignore the male behind her.

The ebony-haired man’s heart sank as he watched (Y/N) walk away, the silence echoing in his wolf ears. He stood there, clutching his jacket, feeling the weight of his mistakes. He had let her down, not only by standing her up on their date but also by failing to protect her from the unknown vandal. Regret washed over him, and he knew he had to make things right. Desperation consumed Derek as he watched (Y/N) retreat further. He knew he couldn't let her go like this, not when their relationship meant so much to him. With a newfound determination, he sprinted after her, his voice filled with sincerity as he called out her name. "(Y/N), please, just hear me out," Derek pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion. "I know I messed up, and I can't change that, but I need you to understand that I never meant to hurt you. There was a reason I couldn't make it to our date, and I promise it's a good one."

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks, her back still turned to the man she had grown to yearn for. She hesitated for a moment, torn between her pain and the lingering love she felt for him. Slowly, she turned around, her eyes filled with a mix of anger, hurt, and curiosity. “I don’t care. If you really were sorry, you would have texted or called. I heard nothing" she grumbled, her voice dripping with frustration and exhaustion. The weight of their new relationship had become unbearable, and she could no longer pretend to be invested in their once-blossoming love affair. With a heavy sigh, she dropped his black leather jacket into his hands, the cold fabric slipping through her fingers like a lost connection. The jacket, once a symbol of their intertwined lives, now felt foreign and distant, mirroring the growing distance between them. "I just need some space," she stuttered under her breath, as she hopped into her car and sped off leaving a dust cloud in her space.

Derek persisted in refuelling his vehicle, attempting to appear unaffected, but his vigilance was evident as another car approached. The hunters, who had recently encircled him, kept him restrained near the gas pump. Positioned before him was Chris Argent, while two additional hunters leaned casually against the silver SUV behind him. After a brief pause, Derek detached the pump from his gas tank and secured it back in its place, sealing the lid. It was at this moment that Argent chose to initiate their conversation. “nice ride. Black cars through very hard to keep clean.” Argent strolled confidently towards him, gliding his fingers along the sleek surface of Derek's Camaro. With a deliberate gesture, he extended his hand and effortlessly wiped away an imaginary mark on the hood, a clear attempt to unnerve Derek. “I would suggest a little more maintenance.”

Derek observed Argent intently, his face devoid of any emotion, as he approached the gas pump and swiftly picked up the free windshield wiper cleaner and squeegee. With a flick of his wrist, he removed the excess cleaning fluid from it, displaying his efficiency. “If you have something this nice, you want to take care of it, right?” With a mischievous grin, the hunter diligently wiped away the frost from Derek's windshield, all the while maintaining a casual conversation that carried a subtle undertone of menace. “Personally... I'm very protective of the things I love. But that's something I learned from my family. ...And you don't have much of that these days...do you?” Derek's black leather jacket concealed his clenched left hand, catching Argent's attention. The Hunter observed Derek, anticipating a confrontation, but to his surprise, Derek gradually unclenched his fist, revealing his ordinary human nails. Derek managed to keep his inner wolf under control effortlessly. Chris nodded in satisfaction, relieved that the situation didn't escalate, and calmly placed the squeegee back in its holder.

“There we go. You can actually look through your windshield now. See how that makes everything so much clearer?” The hunter's disingenuous grin transformed into a menacing smirk, as he locked eyes with Derek for an extended period. Satisfied that his message had been effectively conveyed, he pivoted and made his way towards his vehicle, with the rest of the Hunters trailing behind. Nevertheless, Derek, unable to resist, finally interjected with a touch of sarcasm in his voice. “You forgot to check the oil.” With a sudden halt, Argent ceased his stride, his back deliberately facing Derek. A mischievous grin spread across his face, relishing in the satisfaction of successfully affecting Derek. Slowly, he pivoted around, directing a subtle nod towards one of his fellow Hunters, a cunning smirk etched onto his rugged features.

“Check the man's oil.” Reluctantly, the smaller of the two Hunters made his way towards Derek's car, while Derek observed his every move with keen interest. Surprisingly, instead of circling around the front of the vehicle to inspect the engine, the Hunter halted at the driver's side door and discreetly retrieved a concealed semi-automatic gun from his side. Without hesitation, he used the butt of the weapon to shatter the window, glancing towards Chris for a nod of approval. “looks good to me.” As Argent made his way towards his SUV, he and his team of Hunters departed in their own vehicles. Derek clenched his teeth in frustration as he glared at the shattered glass surrounding his car.

As the rain poured and thunder rumbled, Derek reached the hospital with one goal in mind: finding Garrison. Determined to uncover the truth about the alpha, he was willing to go to any lengths, even if it meant exploiting an injured civilian. His motivation stemmed from his deep love for his family, his sister, and (Y/N). The bus driver's lifeless body lay serenely on the sterile bed until the silhouette of a wolf cast a haunting shadow upon the pristine white blanket. “open your eyes.” He ordered. But nothing happened. “open your eyes.” Myers reluctantly obeyed, emitting a deep growl. The agony etched on his battered face intensified as the wounds around his eyes became more pronounced, forming a web of creases and dark circles. “What do you remember?” Myers appeared to have a sense of familiarity towards him, as memories of his piercing forest green eyes flooded his thoughts. In a feeble attempt, he desperately uttered his last name, as if it held some significant meaning.

“How do you know my name?” Derek barked with rage. “I'm sorry... I'm sorry.” Myers reclined on his pillow while the wolf struggled to comprehend the discussion. Abruptly, a blaring alarm erupted from the telemetry monitoring system, prompting Melissa to investigate before urgently summoning the nurse. Derek had mysteriously vanished from the room, realizing that his sole witness was now deceased and of no value. Melissa hurriedly entered the room and was taken aback with disbelief upon witnessing Myers lifeless in bed, his telemetry showing a flatline. Rose, call a code! Room one-thirty-seven!

Derek's heart pounded in his chest as he raced through the dense foliage of the preserve. The branches whipped against his face, leaving small scratches in their wake, but he paid no mind to the stinging pain. They would heal in minutes. His mind was solely focused on finding (Y/N), ensuring her safety, and making amends for the chaos he had inadvertently unleashed. The moon cast an eerie glow through the canopy above, illuminating the path ahead. Derek's heightened senses allowed him to navigate the winding trails with ease, his footsteps barely making a sound as he moved with the grace of a predator. The scent of wolfsbane grew stronger with each passing moment, a reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. As he sprinted, memories of the gas station incident replayed in his mind. The panic that had consumed him when he realized the potential harm he had caused to (Y/N) and those around her. The guilt that gnawed at his conscience, knowing that his actions had put her in harm's way. He couldn't bear the thought of her suffering because of him.

As the thunder grew louder, Y/N stepped out of her car onto the meadow, her heart pounding with excitement. The dark clouds loomed overhead, casting an eerie shadow over the landscape. Ignoring the ominous atmosphere, she carefully poured vodka into four jars, each one representing a different direction. She had heard tales of the power of storms, how they could cleanse and rejuvenate, and she was determined to harness that energy. Sitting on the damp grass, she positioned the jars in a circle around her, their contents shimmering in the fading light. The air was heavy with anticipation, and she could feel the electricity building in the atmosphere. As the first droplets of rain began to fall, she closed her eyes, allowing the cool sensation to wash over her like a chilling halo.

The rain intensified, drenching her and the surrounding meadow. The sound of the downpour drowned out all other noise, creating a symphony of nature's fury. Y/N's senses heightened, her body tingling with the raw power of the storm. She could feel the energy crackling in the air, charging the very molecules around her. Finally, the rumbling sounds reached the field, shaking the ground beneath her. The thunder roared like a beast, its voice echoing through the vast expanse. A smile of pure joy spread across Y/N's face as she felt the storm's might. It was as if the heavens had opened up, granting her access to a realm of untamed energy.

Derek couldn't help but feel a mix of curiosity and concern as he watched the soaked woman move with an almost ethereal grace. Her movements were deliberate and purposeful as if she knew exactly what she was doing. As she positioned each jar at a corner of the territory, Derek's mind raced with questions. What was the significance of these containers? And why was she placing strands of her hair inside each one? It was a peculiar sight, one that left Derek with a sense of unease. He had known the woman to be mysterious, but this was a whole new level. Without wasting a moment, she arrived at her home with remarkable swiftness, only to immediately turn around and depart once more, leaving the jars untouched as she raced along the newly moistened road towards the town.

Melissa, worn out and in her cosy pyjamas, trudged wearily down the hallway towards Scott's bedroom. Even before she reached the door, she called out to him, her voice filled with exhaustion. “hey (Y/N)s coming over for a wine and dine night.” She mumbled clearly upset over something. As she stepped into the doorway, her gaze fell upon Scott's room, which was shrouded in darkness and devoid of any presence. The half-open bedroom window added to the eerie atmosphere. Melissa couldn't help but let out a sigh, disappointed that Scott had missed the curfew imposed on the entire town. However, she quickly composed herself, shaking her head in resignation, and made her way back to her own bedroom. All the while, she muttered softly under her breath, expressing her frustration.

Just as she was about to enter her bedroom, a loud thud echoed from Scott's room, causing her to freeze in her tracks. Startled, she turned her head towards the noise and was unsettled by the window rattling open and shut. Cautiously, she retreated back into her room, snatching a baseball bat and positioning herself just inside the doorway. Her heart raced as she witnessed a figure rolling onto Scott's bed from the window. Ready to strike, the brunette hesitated as the figure suddenly stood up and called out. “WHOA! OH, NO, NO, NO!.” finally realising it was her son's idiot friend and lowered the wooden weapon. “Stiles, what are you doing here?” Stiles' voice is just as exasperated, as though Melissa is the one in the wrong here, especially when he remembers that Scott almost did the exact same thing to him with the bat Scott tried to kill him with. “What am I doing? God, do either of you even play baseball?”

In an instant, the room was illuminated as the light switched on, exposing Scott's return. Without a moment's hesitation, Melissa swiftly redirected her attention towards him, unleashing a frustrated scolding. “Can you please tell your friend to use the front door?”

“But we lock the front door. He wouldn't be able to get in.” She let out a heavy sigh before swiftly exiting the room, muttering under her breath. “(Y/N)s coming over don’t be little shits for an hour or two I beg you.” As Scott's gaze shifted towards his friend, he couldn't help but notice the gravity etched on his friend's face. Concerned, he swiftly inquired about it, furrowing his brows and pulling his desk chair closer to engage in a face-to-face conversation. “My dad left for the hospital fifteen minutes ago... It's the bus driver. “They said he "succumbed to his wounds." The young wolf’s gaze met Stiles with a questioning expression, prompting the latter to carry on with his thoughts. “Scott, he's dead.” Scott's eyes grew wider, a gasp escaping his lips as shock coursed through him. With the limited information he had, he began piecing together a mental image, connecting the dots to form a clearer picture. Scott burst into the Hale House, convinced that the older wolf was responsible for the attack on Garrison Myers. Ignoring (Y/N) who held a wine bottle tightly, he urgently called out for Derek. But it was too late, Scott was already racing down the street. “Scott!”

As the night progressed, Y/N discovered themselves engaged in lively conversation with Melissa, their laughter resonating throughout the room. Amid the cheerful atmosphere, Stiles quickly formulated a plan. "Hey, Mel, mind showing me the way to your bathroom?" The mysterious woman inquired. Concealed behind a nearby wall, the teenager listened intently, their heart racing at the faint sound of her footsteps on the creaking floorboards. Filled with a sudden rush of anxiety, Stiles swiftly moved to intercept her near the bathroom, his eyes revealing his unease. "Listen, you captivating goth," the nervous boy stammered, trembling with fear, as she raised an eyebrow, revealing her dark, smoky eyes and perfectly winged eyeliner. "I know you're hiding something from me, and you can't deny it because I've read your book."

As the thunder roared around the house, she forcefully pushed Stiles against the wall, surprising him with her hidden strength. "Listen up, Stiles. I don't want to cause you any harm, but you've messed with the wrong girl, kid. Now, hand over the book if you know what's good for you." Stiles quickly nodded in agreement as she gradually released her grip. Filled with anger, she stomped her way back downstairs, and the rage slowly subsided inside once again.

“Derek! I know you're here! I know what you did!” Hidden from view, Derek's serene voice reverberated through the desolate remains, creating an eerie atmosphere in the darkness. “I didn't do anything.” Sceptical of Derek's claims, Scott cautiously approached the charred staircase, determined to locate his hiding spot within the dilapidated house. “You killed him!” Derek remained hidden, yet his responses to him persisted, though now tinged with a growing impatience in his tone. “he died.” Despite Scott's continuous effort to locate Derek, his newfound powers were not yet up to par. “Like your sister died?” As he ascended the steps, drenched in sweat from the strenuous bike ride to the house, he cleverly engaged in conversation, hoping to uncover any clue about Derek's whereabouts. “My sister was missing. I came here looking for her.”

“You found her.” Scott approached the final steps, his senses heightened, alert for any sign of movement from Derek. Derek, overwhelmed by anger, unleashed a piercing yell, clearly tormented by the subject of their discussion. “I found her in pieces! Being used as bait to catch me.”

“I think you killed them both. I'm gonna tell everyone, starting with the Sheriff.” Scott triumphantly ascended the staircase, only to realize at the eleventh hour that Derek had been silently trailing him on the opposite side. In a sudden twist of events, Derek materialized behind him, forcefully gripping his shoulders and unceremoniously hurling him down the stairs. With a sinister grin, Derek stood at the summit while Scott tumbled down, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground floor.

Scott's feeble attempt at a roar prompted the elder Werewolf to bound down the staircase, disregarding each step and effortlessly landing beside the teenager. Before Derek could even respond, Scott seized him by the front of his leather jacket and forcefully propelled him through the charred remnants of the wall, sending him crashing into a heap of shattered wood and drywall. “Huh.”

As Derek regained his composure, he forcefully expelled the drywall dust from his mouth and brushed off the debris that had settled on him. Rising to his feet, he shook his jacket to remove any lingering particles, all the while feeling a sense of begrudging admiration for Scott's audacity. However, what truly bothered him was the fact that the impact had washed away the lingering scent of (Y/N), leaving it intermingled with the unpleasant odours of mildew, mould, and dust. “That was cute.”

Derek casually discarded his jacket, exposing a simple Gray t-shirt. He strolled towards the former foyer of the house, passing a door adorned with a stained-glass window. Through the window, Scott caught a glimpse of Derek as he stretched his head and neck, undergoing his inaugural transformation in front of the audience. The audible crunch of bones accompanied his progress until he successfully crossed the threshold, now fully transformed into a formidable Werewolf. Derek's appearance underwent a remarkable transformation. His once bare skin was now adorned with a dense growth of hair, framing his eyebrows and accentuating his chiselled chin. Moreover, his jawline had become even more defined, perfectly accommodating his four newly grown, intimidating fangs. As if that wasn't enough, his hands had also undergone a drastic change. They were now rough and large, housing ten formidable claws that possessed the power to slice through anything, provided he exerted enough force. With his once green eyes now radiating a vibrant blue hue, he proudly reveals his menacing fangs, prepared to engage in a proper showdown with Scott.

With a swift jump, Scott propelled himself through the gap created by Derek's flight through the wall. The tension between them was palpable as they cautiously circled each other, both anticipating the other's next move. Derek's low growl persisted, adding an extra layer of intensity to the standoff. With a thunderous roar, Scott charged at Derek, but this time Derek's lightning-fast reflexes allowed him to seize Scott by the shirt and forcefully slam him against the wall. In one swift motion, Derek flung Scott aside, causing him to somersault over the coffee table and land in a crouched stance. Despite growling softly, Scott managed to evade Derek's pounce, skilfully rolling to the side just in time to avoid being pinned down.

As they rose to their feet, both of them exchanged blows, but Derek eventually pushed his opponent across the room, causing him to fall flat on his back. Derek then stood in a hunched-over stance while Scott struggled to get up, using the coffee table for support. In response, Derek let out a fierce growl. With lightning speed, Derek sprinted towards the coffee table, transforming it into his impromptu shield. He launched a powerful kick, propelling his feet into Scott's chest, and sending him hurtling backwards. Undeterred, Scott swiftly regained his footing, while Derek unleashed another kick, this time aiming at the wall. As Scott grabbed a nearby wooden beam, the battle escalated to a whole new level. With a forceful strike, he made contact with Derek, causing him to tumble backwards and roll across the ground. As Scott swiftly approached, wielding the beam like a baseball bat, Derek managed to evade a blow to his face by rolling to the side. Seizing the opportunity, Derek swiftly rose to his knees and delivered a powerful strike to the back of Scott's knees, sending him sprawling and crashing onto the hard ground.

Derek was sent tumbling backwards and rolling across the ground after a powerful strike from Scott. As Scott advanced with the beam, ready to swing like a baseball bat, Derek skillfully avoided a blow to his face by rolling to the side. Taking advantage of the opening, Derek quickly got up on his knees and delivered a strong strike to the back of Scott's knees, causing him to crash onto the hard ground. Scott's agony echoed through the room as he stumbled towards the couch, his hands gripping it for support. The pain seemed to force him to retreat, his body trembling with each step. Meanwhile, Derek stood behind him, his back turned, and twisted his neck, the sound of bones cracking filling the air as he transformed back into his powerful human form. Scott's eyes met Derek's, revealing a profound sense of betrayal etched on his face. Exhausted from the relentless fight and weary of their arguments, Derek finally broke the silence with a heavy sigh, setting the truth straight once and for all. “I didn't kill him. Neither of us did. It's not your fault, and it's not mine.”

Scott's anger intensified as the words reached his ears, fuelling his fury. Determined, he rose to his feet and confronted the person, his voice filled with disbelief and booming with intensity. “This? This is all your fault! You ruined my life!”

“No, I didn't.”

“You're the one that bit me!”

“No, I'm not.”

Shock coursed through Scott's veins as he absorbed the unexpected revelation, causing his eyes to widen in disbelief. Frantically, he scanned his surroundings, trying to process the overwhelming information. His gaze shifted downwards, landing on his chest where he noticed a series of shallow claw marks. Tentatively, he reached out and touched them, feeling a shiver run down his spine as the sight of blood on his fingertips triggered a haunting memory from the previous night.

As Scott neared the bus, his peripheral vision tinged with a crimson hue, courtesy of his enhanced Werewolf sight. Inside the bus, a terrifying wolf-like creature was viciously assaulting Garrison Myers, who cried out in terror. Desperate for help, Myers extended his trembling hand towards Scott, praying for salvation. However, as Scott attempted to intervene, the colossal Werewolf slashed him across the chest, reminiscent of the painful wounds he had sustained in the demolished hale house, but this time the injury ran even deeper.

“...There's another.” Scott's gaze shifted to his crimson-stained fingertips, observing the wounds on his chest that had miraculously begun to mend. At that moment, a sudden realization struck him, leaving him so astounded that he sank into the couch, gasping for air. “It's called an Alpha. It's the most dangerous of our kind. You and I? We're Betas. This thing is more powerful, more animal than either of us. My sister came here looking for him. Now I'm trying to find him. But, I don't think I can do it without you.”

“Why me?”

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