#character: jackson whittemore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ellswritings · 5 days ago

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Lunatic 1x08

Life has definitely improved for Fallon. The dangerous night in the school didn’t have any long-lasting impacts on her leg, so now she has her cast off. Michael was relieved to know that she wouldn’t need to have it on any longer than necessary. Unfortunately, he did get more strict after that night. She thought she was on a tight leash before, but now she can only go somewhere if there’s confirmation by Melissa or Noah that Stiles or Scott will be there. Hence why she’s now in the woods, following after the two boys, freckles having a large bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.

None of their parents know they left Stiles’ house… but what they don’t know won’t hurt them. They’re all working tonight anyway.

Life was slowly returning to normal, or at least some version of it. She tries to interject in the conversation the two are having ahead of her, but her mind has been too preoccupied with something the last couple of days. Derek Hale. She doesn’t know what happened to him, if he’s truly dead, where he is if he’s not. When she left the school with her father, the only thing she could think about was his Camaro and who would take it. She was tempted, but it would be nearly impossible to hide a whole vehicle from her father.

She grins as Stiles almost begins to slip, the golden liquid in the bottle sloshing around. Each side of the glass gets touched by the Tennessee whiskey, making the bottle itself look more murky than it actually is. How the boy managed to snag a bottle of liquor, Fallon wouldn’t know, she also wouldn’t ask. She was kind of relieved that he brought it. She knows that they’re there to help Scott feel better, but letting loose for the evening would do her some good too.

Fallon runs to catch up with the two, slinging her arms around their shoulders as they walk through the preserve. “Where are we going?” She asks Stiles curiously. “And how much of that are we actually gonna drink?” She questions. “Because if you stole it from your dad, it’s probably not a good idea to drink more than a quarter of it.”

“I am not answering either of those questions.”

Fallon snickers, accepting his secrecy. If he wants to risk getting himself in trouble with Noah, then she’s not going to stop him. Scott’s posture is slouched, hands dug deep into his pockets as he glances at his friends. “We really shouldn’t be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak-out from what happened at the school.”

Stiles scoffs, waving the whiskey around in the air, “Well, your mom isn’t the sheriff, okay? There’s no comparison, trust me.”

“Okay, you both have got it way easier than you like to pretend to,” Fallon points out. “My dad literally won’t let me leave the house after dark. I can barely leave during the day unless I’m going to school. And he won’t let me out of his sight unless one of your parents tells him I’ll be with one of you at your house for the night,” she lists off her restrictions. “Meanwhile, you have a bottle of Jack Daniel’s and your dad thinks we’re at his place watching a movie.” She sends Stiles a pointed look. “Doesn’t seem too overwhelming to me.”

“Shut up,” Stiles shoves her arm off of him and into Scott. The latter laughs at Stiles’ reaction to Fallon’s words.

“Can you at least tell us what we’re doing out here?” Scott requests.

“Yes!” Stiles nods. “When one your best friends gets dumped–”

“I didn’t get dumped,” Scott interrupts, suddenly getting defensive. “We’re taking a break.”

“So were Rachel and Ross,” Fallon teases with a smirk. “Trust me on this, breaks are never just breaks. The only break there is, is a break-up.”

Fallon’s never been one to believe in the benefits of “taking a break.” She doesn’t deny that it probably works for some couples, but in her opinion, all it is is just a less harsh term for the reality of the situation. A break-up. It allows both parties to live in a fantasy world where they’ll wait for one another until they improve themselves. When that’s never actually the case. Perhaps she’s this cynical because she’s never been in love, and her opinion could be based on nothing but bitter seventeen-year-old thoughts. But until she’s proven wrong, she’s going to stick with her negativity.

“No–”

“All right,” Stiles stops the conversation before Scott gets upset and storms off. “Well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they’re taking a break…” he lifts the bottle in the air, “you get your best friend drunk.”

Stiles stops in the middle of a clearing, a small rock sitting in the dead center. The tree branches whistle in the wind creating a calming atmosphere for the three. The breeze feels nice on Fallon’s skin as she plops down in the leaves next to Stiles. She immediately leans back, staring up at the sky. As usual, her eyes were drawn to the moon. The harsh reality of the full moon being tomorrow hits her like a truck when she notices the waxing gibbous hanging beautifully above them. She briefly glances at Scott, the same frown he’s had on his face since getting in the jeep still present. She hopes it’s more to do with Allison than his impending face-off with the man in the moon.

Stiles pops the lid off of the liquor and takes a satisfying swig. The whiskey bounces around, the amber color almost matching the small flecks in Stiles’ eyes. She watches as he cringes slightly as the liquid burns his throat, but she can tell by the small smile on his face that he likes it. He holds it out towards Fallon and Scott for them to have some. His grins drops slightly when he notices Scott not making any effort to take the bottle. Fallon wasn’t planning on drinking too much due to not wanting a hangover, but the things she does for Stiles. She makes grabby hands, carefully taking the bottle of whiskey and throwing it back like it’s nothing. Scott and Stiles watch with wide eyes, not expecting her to let loose like that. They’ve seen her drink before but only very little at social gatherings.

Being friends with Lydia and Jackson as well as being one of the best players on the lacrosse team came with things like parties and drinking. Fallon didn’t have an addiction or anything of the sorts, she knows when to drink and when not to and she always does it responsibly. Her first time drinking taught her that lesson. She crashed in Jackson’s backyard on a lawn chair. The next morning she woke up with a gnarly hangover, a terrible case of cottonmouth, and a plethora of mosquito bites. So now when she engages with any form of alcohol, she doesn’t do it to get drunk. Just a slight buzz.

She enjoyed the warmth the whiskey provided her. She likes the burning sensation it leaves as it cascades down her throat, pooling in her stomach. She wipes a drop off the corner of her mouth, licking the excess off her finger before handing it back to Stiles.

The pale boy once again tries to offer the liquor to Scott, but he silently shakes his head in response. Stiles scoffs, taking another large sip before laying down next to Fallon. “Y’know you are sitting here with a giant bottle of Jack Daniel’s, which we got for free by the way, and your two best friends. One of which is a hot female who has apparently kissed you. This is like any teenage boy's wet dream,” he rambles off, the small amount of whiskey he’s had already making him tipsy.

Scott looks at Fallon in shock, “You told him?”

She huffs, “Well– I– yeah…” she shrugs. “It wasn’t that big of a deal. And plus, when I told him, I thought he’d be able to keep it to himself, but I guess I was wrong.” She glares over at Stiles who’s too busy taking another drink to worry about her being mad.

“If anyone should be upset, it’s me,” Stiles puts his finger in the air to emphasize his point. “I’m the only one here who hasn’t been kissed by Fallon.”

“You’re the only other person here,” the brunette points out. “I’m not walking around kissing myself, Stiles. And it’s not like it happened more than once.”

“Well, I haven’t even gotten it once.”

“I already offered to kiss you!” She exclaims, taking the bottle out of his hand. She’s gonna need a lot more alcohol if she’s going to be able to keep up with drunk Stiles. “If you wanna cash that favor in now, I’ll be happy to fulfill my end.”

“Wait, you told him you would kiss him as a favor?” Scott furrows his eyebrows.

“Don't worry about it,” Fallon waves off, gulping down some more of the spicy liquid.

“No,” Stiles denies with an overdramatic shake of his head. “I’m gonna wait. It’s gonna be the perfect moment where you’ve completely forgotten about it when I cash that sucker in.”

“Great,” she holds the amber liquor in the air, nonverbally saying cheers to his statement before throwing her head back to coat her throat once more. “Looking forward to it.”

“Good,” Stiles adds. “And I’m expecting all the works. So you better always have that watermelon chapstick on hand,” he turns on his side to face her. “I want a whole fruit explosion.”

Fallon pauses for a moment. Her eyes soften when looking at him, “You know what kind of chapstick I use?”

The only reason this impacts her so strongly is that he asked what chapstick Lydia wore because he didn’t know before. But somehow he knows hers. How could he know Fallon’s but have no clue about the girl who is his total obsession.

Stiles shifts in his spot, sensing the sincere shift in the atmosphere. He scoffs out a laugh, taking the bottle back from her, “Uh, yeah,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal. “You apply it like every five minutes. It’s either that or raspberry.”

She knows that’s not true, and by the way he sucks down a good chunk of the bottle, he knows it too. But she’s not going to say anything, and Scott’s too depressed about Allison to worry about the odd moment shared between his two friends.

A couple minutes pass by, the three of them just enjoying each other's company. In that time, they managed to convince Scott to take a drink, but it doesn’t seem to be phasing him like it usually does. Scott isn’t necessarily a lightweight like the spaz head next to them, but he doesn’t have a tolerance like Fallon does either. Even then, she’s starting to border the line between tipsy and drunk as well and the bottle is only halfway gone.

At this point, Fallon’s head is resting comfortably on Stiles’ stomach, the boy running his hands through Fallon’s hair. The softness of her locks feels relaxing on his fingers. He looks up at Scott who hasn’t cheered up at all since being here. “Dude, you know... she's just one... one girl. You know, there are so many... there are so many other girls in the sea…” he mumbles drunkenly.

Scott sighs at his incapacitated friend, “Fish in the sea.” He corrects.

Stiles giggles, “Fish?” He asks, confused. “Why you talking about fish? I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love ‘em. I love especially ones with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, five-foot-three…”

“Like Lydia?” Scott says, not needing to do much to figure that one out.

“Yeah, exactly!” Stiles exclaims happily until his face falls with puzzlement. “Hey, how did you know what I was talking about… about…” He squints his eyes, “What was I talking about?”

Fallon flips on her stomach and off of Stiles when she notices Scott’s state. She holds the bottle up to him, “You’re not happy, Scotty. Take a drink. It’ll take the edge off.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t want anymore,” he denies moodily.

“Okay,” she smiles at him brightly. “No means no, and we don’t peer pressure here,” she giggles before slapping her hand over her mouth. She stares at the bottle, slowly pushing it away from her so she doesn’t try to drink anymore. As soon as she starts giggling, that’s when it’s time to stop. The next phase is confusing her rights from her lefts and that’s the last thing she wants to do when sitting in the middle of the woods.

“You’re not drunk?” Stiles wonders.

Scott shakes his head, “I’m not anything.”

“That’s very dark,” Fallon frowns. “You are something, Scotty.” She scoots closer to him, laying her head on his lap now. “You’re our best friend, and if Allison is too blind to see that you were trying to save her, then she doesn’t deserve you.”

Scott wants to defend Allison, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He looks at Fallon, and he doesn’t know how, but he can sense the protectiveness wafting off of her. He can feel how much she wants to keep his heart safe. He then takes Stiles’ job, lightly playing with her hair. She closes her eyes and hums, enjoying the feeling of her hair being messed with.

“Hey, maybe it's like... maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know? Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf?” Stiles says, pursing his lips. “Am I drunk?”

“You’re wasted.”

“Yeah!” Fallon rubs Scott’s words into Stiles’ face, reminding the former of a toddler.

“You’re just as bad,” Scott informs her, making the girl pout.

She defiantly shakes her head, “Nuh uh. I can still tell my rights from my lefts,” she then proceeds to raise her left hand when saying right and her right hand when saying left. “See?”

Scott’s lips form in a tight line, “That’s your right hand, Fall. Not your left.”

Her triumphant expression fades, “Damn it,” she grumbles, laying back down on Scott’s legs.

“Come on, dude. I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know.” He pauses before realizing his lack of knowledge on the subject area. “...Well, I don't know.” Fallon starts giggling as he continues, “But I know this-- I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse.”

The brunette girl hiccups, still trying to contain her chuckles. “That didn’t make any sense.”

“I need a drink!” Stiles exclaims, rolling over to reach the whiskey. But it was yanked away by a foreign hand before Stiles could even grab it.

“Well, look at the three little bitches getting their drink on.”

Fallon goes to stand up, suddenly much more sober than she was three seconds ago. “What did you just say?”

Scott is quick to pull her back down, the men laughing at her tenacity. “Would you look at that, Unger? Little princess here’s got teeth.”

Scott glares at the two of them, nodding at the bottle. “Give it back,” he demands firmly.

“What’s that little man?” The one they just learned was named Unger says.

“I think he wants a drink,” his friend responds, amused.

“I want the bottle,” Scott responds, his voice steady.

Stiles sits up nervously, pulling Fallon closer to him to keep her safe, “Scott, maybe we should just go…”

Scott glowers at the two older men, “You brought me here to get drunk, Stiles. I’m not drunk yet.” The man holding the bottle scoffs, taking a drink of the whiskey. Scott moves closer to them, “Give me the bottle.” His head tilts down a bit and that’s when Fallon sees a glimpse of yellow in his eyes. A small growl erupts from his throat, “Give me the bottle of Jack.”

She taps Stiles, “He’s wolfing out,” she whispers. “We need to go. Now.”

His fangs slowly start to poke out from his upper lip, the sideburns growing in on the side of his face. They both watch as he digs his claws into his hands, low snarls leaving his mouth. Stiles goes to stand up, “Scott…” he warns.

The man holding the bottle shakes as he doesn’t understand what is going on with the teen in front of him. He fearfully hands Scott the bottle who rips it out of his hand, chucking it across the clearing and smashing it against a tree. The two men take off in the other direction, mumbling things about how the three of them are crazy. Technically they’re not wrong. But the three friends haven’t been sane since they met each other.

Scott starts walking off, Stiles and Fallon following behind him. “Okay, please tell me that’s because of the breakup… Or ‘cause tomorrow’s the full moon…?” He suggests.

Scott opens the back door to the jeep, Stiles walking in front of him. “Going home now, yeah?” Scott nods allowing Stiles to collapse into the backseat, promptly passing out.

Fallon sighs, “Let’s get out of here.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Getting to school the next day was a struggle for Fallon. Her father continuously asked if she really thought she was ready to go back. It’s not that she didn’t mind staying home and recuperating, but she would eventually go stir crazy if she couldn't get out for at least a couple of hours. Besides, now that she has her cast off, she can’t wait to get back to playing lacrosse again.

She heads towards Mr. Harris’s class, internally cringing at the fact there’s a huge test today. When she walks in, she watches as the man menacingly places the tests down on each table. Allison is sitting in the front row, an empty seat next to her. Fallon decides to take the spot, sending the dark haired girl a small smile.

“Hey,” she greets quietly.

“Hi,” Allison smiles, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “How are you feeling after, y’know…” She gestures with her hands to indicate the night before.

“I’m okay,” Fallon answers kindly, turning to face the girl fully. “How are you? I know you were pretty freaked out after Scott left and everything.”

“I was,” she admits with a nod. “But I think I’m good now. By the way, I’m really sorry for being kind of snappy with you during the whole thing.”

Fallon shakes her head, “You weren’t. You were scared, which is completely reasonable,” she reaches over and squeezes Allison’s hand reassuringly. “I don’t blame you. We were all pretty scared.”

“Well, I could definitely use a girls night after all of that,” Allison grins at her. “Maybe some facials and therapy shopping. Would you wanna come with me and Lydia?” She asks hopefully.

“Absolutely,” Fallon nods. “That sounds great.”

Once Harris places a test in front of her, she turns her attention back towards her desk. The last thing she needs is Harris yelling at her for talking. Stiles walks in not long after, sliding a lollipop onto Fallon’s desk, his own hanging out of his mouth. She smiles when she notices its cotton candy flavor. He winks at her and she shakes her head, unwrapping the candy and popping it in her mouth. A few moments later is when Scott walks in, looking completely distraught when he sees Allison. The brunette puts a hand in front of her face as a way of shielding herself from the upcoming awkward conversation.

Thankfully, Mr. Harris asks Scott to sit down before a fight could break out. She lets out a breath of relief before opening the first page of the test booklet. Their teacher moves to the front of the classroom, the same displeased look on his face that he always wears. “You have forty-five minutes to complete the test. Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book.” Fallon takes that as her cue to write her name. “However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher. So, let's get the disappointment over with. Begin!”

1) An increase in imports of consumer goods is most likely to have been caused by a:

A) Fall in exchange rate.

B) Rise in household saving.

C) Rise in household income.

D) Fall in unemployment

Fallon thinks back to the notes she took in her economics class. The only logical answer would be C. When household income rises, people generally have more disposable income to spend on goods, including imported consumer goods. This increase in purchasing power can lead to an increase in imports. She cracks her neck as she moves to read the next question.

2. Which one of the following statements about price mechanism is correct?

A) Price mechanism is the point which equalibriates supply and demand within a market.

B) Price mechanism allows the price of goods to be decided by supply and demand.

C) Price mechanism formulates fair prices of goods or services according to supply and demand.

The correct answer is B. This statement accurately describes how the price mechanism operates in a market economy because prices are determined by the interaction of supply and demand, without any direct interference from external forces like government control. She circles it with ease before moving onto the next question.

The girl doesn’t even realize how quickly she’s flying through the test until she’s on the third page. She notices Stiles who’s a row over and one seat behind her clicking his pen in a particular pattern which she recognizes. They came up with a system for multiple choice tests where if one of them was struggling, they’d click the pen the amount of times the question number was. Then the person giving the answer would subtly hold up the amount of fingers for which answer it is. He clicks the pen eight times causing Fallon to hold up three fingers for letter c).

She holds her head in her hand, flipping to the fourth page. The brunette only has the backside of the packet to go before she’s officially done. That’ll give her a solid almost thirty minutes to read her book. Hopefully Harris doesn’t make her sit back down for finishing the test in less than twenty minutes.

Fallon sighs, reading the last question boredly. With one final swoop of her pencil, she finishes the test. As she’s about to stand up and turn it in, Scott shoots up from his seat with his backpack and darts out of the room. Her eyes widen in surprise before grabbing all of her stuff, dropping her test off in front of Harris and chasing after her best friend. Stiles follows closely behind, leaving his own test u finished. Their teacher calls out for them and demands them to come back, but it’s far too late.

“Scott?” Fallon yells for the boy. Her and Stiles glance around the hallway, stopping when they see his backpack just sitting in the middle of the walkway. They walk over to it, Stiles picking it up.

“Scott?” Stiles tries, turning his head every which way.

“Let me call him,” Fallon mutters, pulling out her phone as she presses Scott’s contact information. Her phone rings as she and Stiles try to carefully listen for Scott’s ringtone. They hear the faint sound coming from the boys locker room. When they walk in, they hear the water running in one of the showers. The girl sighs, throwing her head back, “Why do you guys always have to come here when you’re having a crisis?”

Stiles shrugs, not knowing the answer to the question. The duo treks forward carefully, an eerie feeling coming over them. With the full moon being tonight, they are both half expecting to see a wolfed out Scott ready to kill them once again. But once they make it to the back, all they see is their best friend breaking down. He’s standing under the shower head, half naked, gasping for air that never seems to reach his lungs.

Scott turns to them, panting heavily, “I can’t– I can’t–” he points to his chest, trying to communicate his needs.

“What’s happening?” Stiles asks anxiously. “Are you changing?”

“No,” he wheezes. “No, I can’t breathe,” he says, sliding down the shower wall.

This is when Fallon flies into protective mode. She yanks Scott’s backpack off of Stiles, rummaging through it to find his inhaler. The only other time she’s seen him like this is when he’s having an asthma attack, but she knows it’s not his asthma. From the looks of it, she wants to assume it’s a panic attack. Hopefully though with a puff from his inhaler, it’ll manage to calm him down.

She kneels down in front of him, ignoring her knees getting wet from the floor below. She shakes the inhaler and puts it to his lips, puffing it into his mouth. Thankfully, it manages to calm his breathing as his chest stops heaving so aggressively.

Scott looks up at them confused, “I was having an asthma attack?” He asks incredulously.

“No,” Fallon sighs, sitting down next to him. “You were having a panic attack.”

Stiles nods, “But thinking you were having an asthma attack actually stopped the panic attack,” he explains. “Irony…”

“How did you know to do that?” Scott glances at Fallon.

The brunette hugs her knees to her chest, briefly looking at Stiles. She shrugs softly, “Used to get ‘em after my mom died, especially when I had to move to a new place right after. Stiles used to get them a lot too.”

“Why do you think we started the Saturday night sleepovers when we were kids?” Stiles brings up. “It gave us a way to stick together on the weekends when we couldn’t see each other at school.”

“It got easier to not have a panic attack when we were with each other,” she says softly. “They're not fun, huh?”

Scott leans his head against the cold shower tile, “I looked at her, and it was like someone hit me in the ribs with a hammer.”

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. “It’s called heartbreak– about two billion songs written about it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about her.”

“Yeah, and you probably won’t for a while,” Fallon says truthfully. “That’s usually how these kinds of things go.”

“Well, you could think about this– her dad's a Werewolf Hunter, and you're a Werewolf, so it was bound to become an issue…” Both Scott and Fallon give him a ‘really’ look making Stiles shift awkwardly. “That wasn’t helpful.” He sighs, crouching down to get closer to his two friends, “Dude, I mean, yeah. You got dumped. It’s supposed to suck.”

“No, that's not it,” Scott denies. “It was like I could feel everything in the room– everyone else's emotions.”

“It’s gotta be the full moon,” Fallon says, rubbing his back. “We’re still gonna stick with the plan we talked about and lock you up in your room later. That way the Alpha–”

“Who’s your boss,” Stiles adds, cutting Fallon off.

She rolls her eyes but finishes her sentence regardless, “Can’t get to you.”

“I think we need to do a lot more than just lock me in my room.”

“What? Why?” Fallon furrows her eyebrows.

“You mean because if you get out, you’d be caught by hunters?” Stiles asks, also trying to understand what he means.

No… Because if I get out… I think I might kill someone.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

One of the only times Fallon is allowed in the boys locker room is when Coach calls a meeting. Truthfully, it’s not even when she’s “allowed,” it’s just when she forces herself to go in there so he doesn’t yell at her for insubordination. It’s happened before. She sits down on the bench next to Scott and Stiles, adjusting her pads underneath the uniform as Coach comes out of his office.

“All right, geniuses, listen up! Due to the recent pink-eye epidemic– thank you, Greenberg– the following people have made first line on a probationary basis– emphasis on the word probationary.” He looks down at the clipboard as he starts to list off all the names, “Rodriguez. Welcome to first line. Taylor, and, uh…” he squints as if he can’t read the name in front of him. “Oh, for the love of crap, I can't even read my own writing. What is that, an S?” Stiles leans forward excitedly. “No, no, that's not an S. That's a-that's a-that's a B. It's definitely a B. Uh, Rodriguez, Taylor, and, uh... Bilinski.”

Stiles’ head shoots up as he hears a version of his last name. He shoots up from his seat, banging on his chest and howling like a monkey. Fallon slouched down, covering her face with her hand to prevent herself from laughing out loud.

“Bilinski,” Coach narrows his eyes, making Stiles stop.

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” the man commands causing everyone in the room to snicker.

“Yes, sir,” Stiles salutes, slowly sitting down so he doesn’t do anything else to jeopardize his new position on the team.

“Stiles,” Fallon tries to talk to him.

“It’s Biles,” he tells her with the most serious expression on his face. “Call me Biles or I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

Her lips form into a thin line as she nods, “Got it. Biles Bilinski it is.”

“Another thing–” Coach gets their attention once more. “From here on out, immediately, we're switching to co-captains. And since Donovan keeps refusing, we’ll give it to our next star player. Congratulations, McCall!”

Fallon and Stiles seem to be the only ones who are happy about the news. The rest of the team doesn’t even look a little bit congratulatory on Scott’s new promotion. Fallon pats his back encouragingly. She definitely would rather have Scott as co-captain rather than herself.

Jackson storms over to Coach, “What?” He snaps, not taking his new shared position very lightly.

“What do you mean, "what?" Coach shrugs. “Jackson, this takes nothing away from you. This is about combining separate strengths into one unit. This is about taking your unit, McCall's unit... we're making one big unit. McCall, it's you and Jackson now! Everybody else?” He blows his whistle loudly. Asses on the field! Asses on the field!

Fallon, Scott, and Stiles all grab their gear and get ready to head outside. Stiles seems a lot more excited than Scott which confuses the girl as he did just earn a very coveted position.

“Dude, can you believe this? You're a captain, I'm first line. I'm first-freaking-line!”

“Told you you could do it,” Fallon bumps his side. “Even if it is on a probationary basis.”

He points his lanky finger at her, “Do not ruin this for me.”

They push the door to the hallway open, walking out together. They ignore the angry stares from Jackson, not allowing him to ruin the victory for them. Stiles notices Scott’s lack of enthusiasm and frowns, “Are you not freaking out? I’m freaking out.”

“What’s the point?” Scott snaps irritably, making Fallon’s eyebrows go up into her hairline. “It’s just a stupid title. And I could practically smell the jealousy in there.”

“Wait, you smell jealousy?” Stiles asks, intrigued.

“Yeah,” the boy nods. “It’s like the full moon’s turned everything up to ten.”

“Are you sure you’re up for practice, Scotty?” Fallon asks worriedly. “We can always tell Coach that you threw up or something and I’m sure he’ll excuse you.”

“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “Don’t worry about it.”

That’s not going to happen. Telling Fallon not to worry is like telling Stiles not to ramble. Besides with what’s at stake, controlling her worrying tendencies is going to be much more difficult. He confessed less than five hours ago that he would kill someone if they didn’t lock him up. So seeing his brooding demeanor sets off some alarm bells.

“Anyway, back to the whole smelling jealousy thing,” Stiles says with a clear agenda. “Does that mean you can pick up on stuff, like, I don’t know… desire?”

Scott frowns, turning to his male best friend, “What do you mean, desire?”

“Like, sexual desire.”

“Sexual desire?” Scott furrows his eyebrows confused.

Stiles sighs exasperatedly, “Yeah, sexual desire! Lust, passion… arousal.”

“I swear to God, I am gonna smack you,” Fallon narrows her eyes at him. “Please stop talking.”

“Don’t act like you’re not curious!” Stiles shoots back.

“Let me guess… from Lydia?” Scott says unamused.

Stiles pretends he’s appalled by the accusation, “What? No, in general, broad sense– can you determine sexual desire?” He tries to play off.

“From Lydia to you,” Fallon adds.

Stiles throws his hands up, “Fine! Yes, from Lydia to me.” Both Scott and Fallon look away from the boy, a wide array of disappointment and annoyance on their faces. Stiles grabs Scott’s shoulder, “Look, I need to know if I have a chance with this girl, okay? I’ve been obsessing over her since the third freakin’ grade.”

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Scott suggests sassily.

“Well, to save myself utterly crushing humiliation. Thank you, Scott. Okay? So, please, can you just go up and ask her if she likes me? See if her heartbeat rises, pheromones come out…”

“Fine,” Scott practically growls before walking away from his two friends with a miserable look on his face. Stiles is too thrilled by Scott agreeing to ask Lydia about her feelings for the boy to notice the shift in their friend's tone. Something’s off and Fallon doesn’t like it.

“We need to follow him,” Fallon says as she watches Scott walk into an empty classroom with Lydia.

“Wha– Why?” Stiles looks at her incredulously. “We can just meet him out on the field.”

“There’s something about the way he just walked off,” she mutters. “I don’t think we should trust him alone in a room with her right now. The full moon seems to be really messing with him.”

“I’m not worried about it,” Stiles shrugs off. “You can follow him if you want, but I just made first line and I’m not gonna give Coach a reason to take it away.” With that, Stiles takes off leaving the brunette in the hallway.

She can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong about this whole situation. Call it best friend’s intuition, but she sneakily walks up to the closed door to the classroom. What she sees is normal for the most part. Lydia is sitting on the desk, staring at Scott as he asks his question. But the question is clearly not what Stiles had originally wanted Scott to do as the boy hunches over and wraps his arms around Lydia’s waist. Fallon gasps, jumping away from the door as she watches the two of them kiss.

“Damn it, Scott,” she grumbles frustratedly, knowing that there’s no way she can keep this from Stiles.

Making her way out to the lacrosse field, Fallon’s fury rises with every step. How could Scott do that to Stiles? He was supposed to go in there to ask if Lydia had feelings for Stiles. Not make out with her. Lydia is also still with Jackson. She loves Scott, but he is an absolute idiot at times.

“Something wrong?” Stiles asks her as she slides down on the bench, grabbing her helmet roughly from her bag.

She sighs, keeping her head hung low. If she tells him, he’ll be pissed at Scott. If she doesn’t tell him, he’ll be pissed at her later when he finds out she knew and didn’t say anything. The girl internally groans before looking back at the boy. “He kissed her,” she blurts out, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Stiles looks taken aback, “Who kissed who?”

“Scott kissed Lydia,” she explains. “And it wasn’t like a little peck either. It was like full on frenching,” she shakes her head in disgust. “I knew something was wrong with him.”

Stiles pauses, “No,” he shakes his head. “No, Scott wouldn’t do that.”

“Stiles, I saw it,” Fallon scoffs. “With my own two eyes.”

“Then you saw wrong,” he tells her defensively. “There’s no way Scott would do that when I just asked him to see if she likes me.”

“You’re seriously not gonna believe me?” The girl looks at him, feeling slightly wounded by his denial. “I was there, Stiles. Why would I lie about something like this?”

“I don’t know,” he throws his hands up. “Because you’ve always been cynical about love, maybe? You’ve been telling me to get over Lydia since forever. Maybe this is your way of trying to get me to do it sooner because you can’t find someone you like for yourself. So you want me to be miserable with you.”

Fallon flinches at his harsh words. She knows he’s only snapping because he’s aware deep down that she’s telling the truth. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. Stiles’ face falls when he sees the hurt expression on hers. “Fallon–”

“Don’t.” She stops him, putting her hand up. She slides her helmet over her head silently. “I may be cynical Stiles, but I’m not a liar. I know what I saw. But you can live in whatever fantasy world you want to. Not my problem.”

The boy huffs loudly as he watches her walk off. He didn’t mean anything he just said. He knows the reason she’s not a big love fan is because of her own parents. She limits her belief in true love to her story books simply because her mom and dad had that fairytale romance. They met, instantly hated each other, and then managed to fall in love along the way. According to Michael, the two’s first kiss was standing in the rain outside of a bookstore in London after a big blowout argument. They had one beautiful daughter, and they were all happy. Until one day, Grace left Fallon with her grandmother while Michael was at the military base he was assigned to. Grace left and never came back. They found out later that she had driven herself off a cliff. No explanation, no note, not even a body. That’s when Fallon’s view on love shattered. Because the most beautiful love story she’s ever witnessed broke within an instant. All the happiness, all the memories, gone.

Fallon holds back the tears that threaten to spill from her eyes, putting all of her energy into practice. She’s trying not to be angry with Stiles, but it’s getting harder every time his words ring in her ears. She’s not miserable. She just doesn’t need someone else to make her happy.

The girl gets in line as Coach blows his whistle. She’s the first one there and the man claps, “All right, Donovan! Start us off right. Go out there and kill ‘em, okay?!”

She silently nods as he blows the whistle again. She scoops the ball up smoothly, dodging the boys blocking the goalie. She twists and turns effortlessly as she usually does, shoulder checking the guy on her left roughly, knocking him to the floor. She reaches the goal, faking Danny out by pretending she’s going to shoot right before quickly pivoting on her feet to aim left. The ball slides into the net perfectly earning a round of applause from Coach and the guys standing on the sidelines. Fallon runs over to stand with the group that’s already completed the exercise.

Jackson gives her a once over, “That was some aggressive playing, Donovan. Something on your mind?” He asks almost patronizingly.

“Don't make me castrate you, Jackson,” she threatens lowly. “I’m not in the mood.”

The blonde tilts his head, “What’s wrong?” His tone sounds actually genuine for once.

Fallon looks up at him. She feels an urge to just spill her guts, but after everything he’s said and done these past few weeks, she holds back. “Nothing,” the brunette shrugs. “Just a bad day, I guess.”

When she looks out to the field, Scott’s the next one up. Coach shouts “Let’s go,” before making his whistle chirp loudly again. Watching Scott was like waiting for a bomb to go off. He runs forward but is immediately knocked down by one of the guards. Everyone on the side laughs at his misfortune. Coach bends down to Scott’s level, “Guess some people don’t appreciate your new status there, McCall.” He stands up, ending his taunting before looking back at the remaining line of players. “Who’s next? Let’s go!”

Coach glances at Stiles who’s next in line, “All right, you’re up big boy! Let’s go!” Stiles nods and gets in position to start running, but is stopped by Scott pushing him backwards with his own lacrosse stick. The angry teen takes Stiles’ spot, getting ready to go again. Coach cheers for him, “That’s it, McCall! That’s the spirit! You earn it! Earn it, McCall!”

Fallon watches nervously as Scott charges forward with a newfound vigor. He slams into the two opposing players, knocking them a few feet away from him. Her heart drops when she sees him go after Danny, smacking the goalie’s helmet with his lacrosse stick and practically shoving him out of the way. Danny hits the ground hard, causing the rest of the team to run to his aid. Scott stands off to the side, ripping his helmet off angrily.

Fallon storms over to him, pushing his chest lightly, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She snaps.

“He’s twice the size of me,” Scott says just as snippily. He grabs her wrists and roughly pushes them away.

The brunette glares at him, “So much for being team captain, huh?” She scoffs. “Leaders don’t act like that.”

“I don’t care,” he rolls his eyes, turning away from her as Stiles comes running up to them. “At least I had the guts to actually take the position,” he says snidely.

Without putting much thought into her next movements, Fallon surges forward and tackles Scott to the ground. She wraps her arm around his neck, putting him in a chokehold which ends up earning the attention of everyone else on the field. “I didn’t take the position–” she grunts as she holds him in place, “Because I didn’t want to deal with assholes like you.” She releases him from her grip, but only because Stiles started pulling her away. She shoves Stiles’ hands off of her before shoulder checking him as she walks off, “Don’t touch me.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Pulling up to the McCall house was a difficult decision for Fallon to make. After everything that happened between the three of them at school, she wasn’t really sure if she wanted to help either of them. Unfortunately, their many years of friendship won out the internal battle she was having in her head. Plus, she couldn’t leave Stiles alone with Scott. Not when he’s acting like a complete menace.

She jumps off her bike and is met with the loud rickety noises of Roscoe. Stiles looks surprised when he gets out of the jeep and sees her waiting by the door. He slings the black duffle bag over his shoulder and walks up to her. “You came…” he says softly.

“Yeah,” she nods stiffly. “I did.”

Stiles sighs, “Fallon, I–”

“It’s fine, Stiles,” she brushes off, trying to keep her emotions at bay. “I already know you didn’t mean it.”

“It’s not fine,” the boy argues. “What I said to you was not fine. It was mean and rude and I literally wanted to punch myself in the face right after I said it,” he rambles. “Look, I should’ve believed you. I know he did it. I guess I just didn’t want to believe it,” he looks down at his feet, suddenly finding the cracks in the pavement very interesting. “I’m really sorry, Fall. And I understand if you hate me and everything, but I still love you and I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” His amber eyes finally meet hers again, “When you pushed me away at the end of practice… I freakin’ hated it. I can’t stand the thought of you doing that again.”

After listening to his monologue, Fallon mulls over his words. She can hear the sincerity in his voice. The girl sighs, pushing herself off the wall and wrapping her arms around Stiles’ neck. He physically relaxes, looping his own arms around her waist as he holds her tightly. “You’re forgiven,” she mumbles. “Let’s see if Scott decides to take the apologetic approach, shall we?”

Stiles slides his key into the lock on the front door. She wanted to ask when he had that made and why, but figured it was because the last time when they snuck in through the window, Melissa almost beat them to death with a bat. When they walk in they hear said woman call out for her son, “Scott?” She rounds the corner and jumps in surprise when the shaggy haired teen is not who just walked in.

“Stiles.” The boy grins with a wave.

“Fallon,” the brunette jumps in, finding the whole situation slightly humorous.

The mother’s eyes fall to the golden key in Stiles’ hand, “Key,” she points to it.

Stiles nods obliviously, “Yeah, I had one made so…”

“That does not surprise me,” Melissa admits. “It scares me, but it doesn’t surprise me.”

“He has one for my house too,” Fallon adds nonchalantly. “He just chooses to climb through my window.”

“That also doesn’t surprise me,” she says, shaking her head. That’s when her eyes fall to the large black duffle bag Stiles carried in, “What’s that?”

The two friends share a look, “Uh, school project…” Fallon spits out quickly, patting the bag. She cringes when the quiet sound of metal clanging is heard. Thankfully, Melissa doesn’t seem to question it.

They go to head up the stairs, but Melissa stops them, “Guys… he’s okay, right?” She asks, worried. She senses something’s off with Scott.

Fallon’s heart pangs with sympathy. She smiles softly at the woman, “Yeah. He’s all right.” Although it’s a lie, Melissa doesn’t need to worry about Scott and the supernatural world.

“He just doesn’t talk to me that much anymore,” she admits heartbrokenly. “Not like he used to.”

“Well, he’s had a bit of a rough week…” Stiles tries to come to Scott’s defense.

Melissa nods, “Yeah. Yeah, I get it.” She tries to push down her concerns for her son as she grabs her purse to head to work. “Um, okay. Uh, be careful tonight.”

“You too,” Fallon says as she gets ready to go up the stairs again.

“Full moon.”

Stiles and Fallon whip their heads towards the woman, “What?” They both say simultaneously, completely alarmed.

“There’s a full moon tonight,” she elaborates. “You should see how the ER gets– brings out all the nut jobs. Be grateful you haven’t had to work the nightshirt, Fallon,” she jokes with a small grin.

The girl laughs awkwardly, “Oh. Yeah, yeah, dad tells me some of the crazy stories.”

Melissa nods, “Yeah, he’s gotten some weird cases. You know, it’s um, actually where they came up with the word lunatic.” With that final thought to chew on, Melissa closes the front door, allowing Stiles and Fallon to let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding.

The two of them finish their journey up the stairs, walking into Scott’s room without much thought. Fallon flicks the lights on as Stiles sets the bag down.

“Oh my God!” Stiles exclaims with a jump.

Fallon turns around, confused by his sudden shout. She jumps up with a yelp when she sees Scott staring at them from the chair in the corner of his room. His expression is completely blank, a certain darkness swirling behind his eyes.

“Dude, you scared the hell out of us!” Stiles tells him. Your mom said you weren’t home yet.”

“I came in through the window,” he says monotonously.

Fallon stays in her spot by the door, keeping her distance from the boy. After what happened between them at the lacrosse field, she doesn’t trust herself to get too close. Besides, she has a better vantage point just in case he tries something.

“Okay. Uh, well, let’s get this set up,” Stiles crouches down to open the bag. “I want you to see what I bought.”

“I’m fine,” Scott’s face is still completely blank. “I’m just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight.”

“You sure about that?” Fallon questions, eyes narrowed. “Because you’ve got this crazy look in your eyes that tells me you’re gonna go all serial killer berserk the second we leave you alone.”

“I’m fine,” he all but growls at her. “You guys should go now.”

Stiles can sense the tensions rising, “All right, we’ll leave,” he says calmly. He sends Scott a pleading look, “Well, look, would you just at least look in the bag to see what I brought? You know, maybe you use it, maybe you don’t. Sound good?”

The way Scott walks over to Stiles makes the hairs on Fallon’s neck stand up. She moves from her relaxed position against the wall and takes a step closer to Stiles. The boy subtly reaches back, placing his hand around her ankle to reassure her that he’s fine. Scott doesn’t notice and proceeds to open the duffle bag, pulling out a long chain.

He looks at it with the utmost distaste and hatred, “You think I’m gonna let you two put these on and chain me up like a dog?” He asks, voice low and gravelly.

“Actually, no,” Stiles responds before swiftly bringing out handcuffs he no doubt stole from his dad. He pushes Scott up against the radiator in his room, locking his wrists in the harsh metal. Fallon helps Stiles to his feet as he clambers backwards.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Scott screams at the two of them, grunting as he tries to pull his wrist free.

“Protecting you from yourself…” Stiles answers. “And giving you some payback… For making out with Lydia.”

Fallon places her hand on Stiles’ back. Scott silently pleads with her to help him out and she shrugs with no remorse. “You know how he feels about her and you took advantage of it. Not to mention, you were a dick to me at practice. So don’t expect any sympathy from me.”

“You came at me!” He snarls.

“Because you practically ran over Danny!” She scoffs at his words.

Stiles turns her body so she’s just facing him. He takes her hand in his before escorting her out of the room. She growls under her breath and Stiles huffs, “I know, I know. But this isn’t him.”

“Still doesn’t change the fact I want to push him out of the window,” she glares back at the door to Scott’s window.

“I think I have an idea that might make you feel better,” Stiles smirks. “I’ll be right back.”

He runs downstairs and the girl sits patiently for his return. She glances periodically towards the room, hearing Scott struggle against his restraints. The best friend side of her is telling her to go back in there and let him go, but the angry side of her wants to keep him locked there for the next three full moons.

Stiles climbs back up the stairs, a water bottle in hand, along with… a dog bowl. A wide smile makes its way onto her face. “You wouldn’t…” she whispers daringly.

“Oh I would,” he huffs out with his own smirk. He walks back towards the room, Fallon following behind. “He wants to act like a dog, I’ll treat him like one.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever loved you more, Biles.”

Stiles strolls into the bedroom, hiding the bowl behind his back. “I brought you some water,” he holds the bottle up before smugly pulling the bowl out, pouring the liquid into the container. Fallon has to look away to prevent herself from cackling. Scott simply glares at the two as Stiles sets the bowl down in front of Scott.

Stiles and Fallon go to leave once more but are stopped when a cool substance hits their backs. The dog bowl crashes down at Stiles’ side, “I’m gonna kill both of you!” Scott shouts aggressively.

This makes Stiles snap. He whips around, anger burning behind his eyes. “You kissed her, Scott! Okay? You kissed Lydia. That’s, like, the one girl that I ev–” he sucks in a deep breath. “And, you know, the past three hours, I've been thinking, ‘It's probably just the full moon,’ you know? He doesn't even know what he's doing, and tomorrow, he'll be totally back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete dumbass he's been– a son of a bitch, a freaking unbelievable piece of crap friend–”

“She kissed me,” Scott interrupts. And the sad part is, he’s not wrong. When Fallon watched it happen, she came onto him first.

“What?” Stiles’ face falls, making Fallon want to kick Scott’s ass all over again.

“I didn't kiss her– she kissed me,” he reiterates cockily. “She would have done a lot more, too. You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me.”

Stiles tries his best to act unaffected, but she can see the way he’s holding himself back. She’s not sure if he wants to kill Scott himself or cry. Maybe a mix of both.

“She would have done anything I wanted. Anything!”

Stiles clenches his jaw before turning to Fallon, “I’ll be right back,” he whispers before storming out of the room.

Fallon stays in her spot by the door. Her arms are crossed as she leans her entire body weight on the door. A frown is etched on her face as she watches Scott stare her down like she’s a piece of meat. “What?” He asks tauntingly. “Something got you upset, Fall?”

She ignores him. Her expression remains hard as she tries to keep her cool. She doesn’t want to snap at Scott like she did out on the field. He might be losing control, but that doesn’t mean she has to. Fallon keeps her eyes trained on his wrist, making sure he doesn’t try to rip his own hand off to get out.

Scott glares at her, growing more angry by her lack of a reaction. “You're a real piece of work, you know that?” He growls. “You’re really gonna stand there and act like you know what’s best for me?” You’re nothing but a–”

“Careful Scott,” Fallon cuts him off, her voice laced with warning. She’s not going to let him say something he’ll regret later. “You don’t want to finish that sentence.”

He snarls, pulling harder at the chains. “Oh, what are you going to do? Put me in a chokehold again? You got lucky earlier. If Stiles hadn’t been there to pull you off, I would’ve–”

“Would’ve what?” She challenges him, taking a step closer, her chin held high in the air. “You think now that just because you’re all furry and fanged that you’re stronger? It doesn’t change who you are, Scott,” she shakes her head. “It just makes you more of an ass.”

Scott’s eyes flash yellow as a twisted smirk forms on his lips, “You think you’re so tough, Fallon. Acting like you don’t care, like nothing gets to you. But I know you. I know you’re just as scared as the rest of us. That’s why you fight so hard. You’re just trying to prove something.”

She feels a pang in her chest, but she pushes it down, refusing to show any sign of weakness. “Don’t project your issues onto me, Scott. You’re the one who can’t handle what’s happening to you.”

He leans forward, the chains creaking under the pressure. “And what about you, Fallon? When are you going to stop pretending like you’re fine?” He pauses before slicing open a wound he knows will make her bleed out. “We all know what happened to your mom, how she—”

“Shut up!” Fallon snaps, her composure cracking. She takes a step back, her breathing uneven. “You have no right to talk about that.”

Scott laughs, the sound bitter. “Yeah, keep hiding behind your anger. But guess what? It’s not going to bring her back.”

Fallon’s fists clench at her sides. She knows he’s not himself right now, that the full moon is messing with his head, but that doesn’t stop the words from cutting deep. “You’re just saying this because you’re scared and upset that Allison dumped you. You really think hurting me is going to make you feel better?”

Before Scott can respond, the door swings open and Stiles rushes in, his face flushed with panic. “Fallon, don’t listen to him! He’s just trying to get into your head, okay? He’s not himself.”

But Fallon doesn’t move, her eyes locked on Scott’s. “Yeah, I know, Stiles. But that doesn’t make what he’s saying any less real.”

Scott’s eyes flicker for a moment, a brief flash of regret before the anger takes over again. “You think you’re so much better than me, Fallon? You’re just as messed up as the rest of us. You think your mom didn’t know what she was doing? Maybe she couldn’t handle being around you anymore.”

That’s the final straw. Fallon feels like she’s been punched in the gut. She blinks rapidly, fighting the sting of tears. “Screw you, Scott.”

Stiles steps between them, pushing Fallon back gently. “That’s enough, Scott.”

But Scott’s still glaring at her, his eyes wild. “I bet she couldn’t stand you. Who could? You’re always pushing people away. It’s no wonder—”

“Shut up, Scott!” Stiles yells, cutting him off. He turns to Fallon, his voice softer. “You don’t have to stay here. Go get some air. I’ll deal with him.”

Fallon hesitates for a moment, then nods, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I need to get out of here.” She gives Scott one last look before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

As she walks down the hallway, she takes deep breaths, trying to calm the storm raging inside her. Scott’s words echo in her head, but she forces herself to push them away. She knows it’s just the full moon taking its effect. But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon took off from Scott’s house, heading to her own. Thankfully, Michael wasn’t there to ask any questions as to why her face was caked with tears. She walks into her room, grabbing a jacket before storming out of the house. If she gets grounded for being out after dark, so be it. But she needs to go on a walk to clear her head.

Scott’s words replay over and over in her head, the hurt occurring all over again. Her eyes water, causing her to silently curse under her breath as she wiped her cheeks. But the tears just don’t stop coming. She knows she can be a bit stubborn and a hardass at times, but she didn’t think she made a habit of pushing Scott and Stiles away.

Hiding behind her anger was something she tried to steer away from. Her father has told her multiple times that’s a sure fire way to hurt her friends and herself. Her headphones are plugged into her ears, loud music blasting through the buds as she tries to drown out her emotions. She’s not looking forward to having that conversation with Scott when he comes down from the full moon high he’s on.

Her footsteps echo across the sidewalk. She walks past the town grocery store and keeps going. The brunette doesn’t even pay attention to which direction she’s walking in, all she wants to do is just escape for a little while. Normally, she would turn to her books in a time like this, but that would remind her too much of her mother.

Eventually, greenery ends up surrounding her rather than the industrial town. A small sniffle escapes her nose as she wipes the snot off her upper lip with her jacket sleeve. She doesn’t even know how long she’s been crying. Clearly a while since she somehow managed to end up in the woods.

The sound of a twig snapping manages to infiltrate her ears despite the loud music playing. She freezes in her spot, realizing going on a walk late at night, alone, was the dumbest idea she’s ever had. Especially since she didn’t take the time to tell anyone where she was going. She pulled one of the buds out of her ear, analyzing the area around her. She doesn’t see anything at first until a tall shadowy figure appears in the distance. An odd amount of fog conceals the individual's identity. Fallon squints her eyes, trying to determine who it is. Normally, she would’ve taken off and started running in the other direction, but something about the shape of the person seems familiar.

A gasp leaves her lips, “Derek?” She calls out in complete shock. She cringes at her own voice as it sounds raw from crying.

He comes out from behind the fog, his hands in his pockets as per usual with his signature leather jacket. He looks completely fine. No sign of a whole in his body from Alpha claws, or any broken bones from being thrown into a brick wall.

He steps closer to her and she simply stares at him, mouth agape. “You… You’re alive.”

Derek raises an eyebrow, “You sound almost disappointed.”

“No, I’m just—” Fallon stopped herself, realizing how close she was to falling apart. She had always been good at hiding her emotions, at putting up a tough front, but tonight… tonight she felt raw. Exposed. “I thought you were dead, Derek. You just disappeared, and with everything that’s been happening, I…”

She trailed off, her hands clenching into fists as she tried to push down the tears that were threatening to spill over. Derek was watching her closely, his expression softening ever so slightly as he noticed the wetness in her eyes. He took another step closer, close enough now that she could feel the warmth radiating off him, even in the cool night air.

“I’m not that easy to kill,” Derek said, his voice low but steady. There was something almost comforting in the way he said it, as if he was trying to assure her in his own stoic way.

Fallon looked up at him, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. “Yeah, well, you sure as hell looked like it,” she muttered, trying to inject some of her usual sarcasm into the words. But even she could tell it fell flat.

Derek’s gaze softened just a fraction, and he tilted his head, studying her more intently. “Something happened,” he states rather than asking. “With Scott.”

Fallon huffed a laugh, though there was no humor in it. “That obvious, huh?”

“You’ve been crying.” Derek’s voice was blunt, as usual, but there was a note of concern buried in it, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it. But Fallon didn’t.

“Yeah, no duh,” she sniffles, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you gonna tell me?” He stands there, patiently waiting for the story.

The tears in her waterline make her eyes glisten under the moon’s pale light. She cranes her neck to look at him. Her chest tightens just thinking about the boy she’s been best friends with since the third grade. “He– he just said some things. Crappy things. But I’m fine,” she assures.

Derek’s expression darkened slightly. “And you let it get to you?”

Fallon’s eyes snapped to his, her stubbornness flaring up despite the pain she was feeling. “I didn’t let it get to me. It just… it was a lot, okay? We fought earlier, and then he said something about my mom, and…” She broke off, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Derek’s jaw tightened. “He shouldn’t have said that.”

“I know,” Fallon replied, her voice barely above a whisper now. “But he did. And I can’t just pretend it didn’t hurt.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, the tension in the air palpable. Fallon was painfully aware of how close Derek was standing, the way his presence seemed to ground her even when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d missed him these past few days, how much she’d worried.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said suddenly, the words catching her off guard.

Fallon blinked up at him, not sure she’d heard him right. “For what?”

“For not being around. For letting you think I was dead.” He paused, his gaze intense as he looked down at her. “For not protecting you from this.”

Fallon’s breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice, and she felt something in her chest loosen, just a little. “You’re not responsible for what Scott says, Derek. That’s on him.”

“But you’re part of this now,” Derek countered, his voice firm. “Which means I am responsible for you, whether you like it or not.”

Fallon’s lips twitched into a small, almost sad smile. “Since when do you care about responsibility?”

“Since you almost got yourself killed,” Derek shot back, his tone more heated than she expected. His eyes bored into hers, and for a moment, she saw something there that took her breath away. Fear. Not for himself, but for her. “You need to be more careful, Fallon.”

She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him that she could handle herself just fine, but the words died in her throat. She was tired. Tired of fighting, tired of pretending she was okay when she wasn’t. So instead, she just nodded.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice gentler than she intended.

Derek’s eyes softened at her response, and for a brief moment, Fallon thought he might reach out, might actually touch her. But he didn’t. Instead, he took a small step back, creating just enough distance between them to remind her that Derek Hale was still Derek Hale. Closed off. Guarded.

“You should go home,” Derek said after a moment, his voice reverting back to that cold, distant tone she was used to. “It’s not safe out here.”

Fallon wanted to argue, wanted to tell him that she could take care of herself, but she didn’t have the energy. Not tonight. “Yeah,” she mumbled, glancing down at her feet. “I will.”

Derek didn’t move, didn’t say anything else, just stood there watching her, waiting for her to leave. But Fallon found herself rooted to the spot, unable to walk away from him just yet.

“Derek…” she started, not entirely sure what she was going to say. Maybe she just wanted to thank him for being there, for listening, for not pushing her away when she felt so raw.

But Derek didn’t give her the chance to finish. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

Fallon looked up at him, surprised by the tenderness in his tone. “I never do.”

Derek’s lips quirked up ever so slightly, the closest thing to a smile she’d ever seen from him. “Could’ve fooled me.”

There was a beat of silence, and then Fallon nodded, more to herself than to him. “Goodnight, Derek.”

He didn’t say anything in response, just watched as she turned and started to walk away, her steps slower than usual, as if she was reluctant to leave. And maybe she was. Maybe, despite everything, she felt safer with Derek than she did anywhere else.

When she was finally out of sight, Derek let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t meant to run into her tonight, hadn’t wanted to see the pain in her eyes, the hurt that he knew wasn’t entirely Scott’s fault. Fallon was strong, stubborn, and fiercely independent, but she was also vulnerable in ways she tried so hard to hide. And Derek had seen that vulnerability tonight, had felt an inexplicable urge to protect her from it.

But he couldn’t. Fallon was her own person, and no matter how much he wanted to keep her safe, he knew he couldn’t shield her from everything. Not from Scott, not from the supernatural world, and certainly not from herself.

So he stayed in the shadows, watching the path she’d taken until he was sure she was gone, before turning and melting back into the darkness. Alone, as always.

*ೃ༄ tags˚◞♡ ⃗

@iamaslytherin0 @famousrunaway1329

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #love story #lydia martin #scott mccall #teen wolf #allison argent #chris argent #female reader #jackson whittemore #teen wolf season 1 #melissa mccall #peter hale #noah stilinski #original character #derek hale imagine

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ellswritings · 1 month ago

Text

Heart Monitor 1x06

Episode 7

To Fallon’s surprise, after her accident and spending pretty much all night in the hospital, when she returned home, Derek was still there. Pretty engrossed in his book to her delight. He was pretty concerned about her leg, which happened to be a clean break. He was furious when he found out what happened, but so was Stiles. It was interesting hearing them say pretty much the exact same thing without the other knowing. They both unknowingly agreed that Scott needs to step away from Allison to regain focus.

Stiles’ idea of getting Scott to understand his mistakes is by giving him the silent treatment. So sitting in their shared class, Fallon stares blankly at the white board, periodically writing down notes as Scott desperately tries to get them to talk to him. After a while she did start to feel bad. He has apologized incessantly since the accident and while Fallon did originally want to hit him with a car of her own, she slowly began to miss talking to him.

“Seriously?” Scott sighs upsetly. “You guys seriously are still not talking to me?” No response. “Fallon, you know how sorry I am. I mean, at least it was a clean break, right? My mom says they have a better chance at healing without complications.”

The girl looks down at the white cast covering her leg. He’s right, clean breaks do have a better chance at healing fully. She’s devastated though that she’ll have to sit out at lacrosse practice for the next couple of weeks, which is actually one of the main reasons she wanted to wring Scott’s neck. But knowing Coach, he’ll kill Scott before she does.

She reaches into her backpack, pulling out a small bottle of painkillers. She pops one into her mouth, chasing it with a sip of water. She didn’t do it as a way to make Scott feel bad, but seeing him hang his head in shame out of the corner of her eye did make her feel slightly vindicated.

“You know I feel really bad about it, right?” He tries once again. Fallon can hear the sadness in his voice. She glances at Stiles, seeing if he’s ready to give in yet. Freckles shakes his head, commanding her with his eyes to stand her ground. She huffs, dropping her head into her hand with a frown. Scott leans forward even further, tapping Fallon on the shoulder. “Okay. What if I told you that I'm trying to figure this whole thing out, and... that I went to Derek for help?”

Fallon’s head snaps towards Stiles faster than it ever has before. She makes a wild gesture with her hands, showing how desperately she wants to give her opinion on the matter. Stiles tries to stay strong, but the pleading look in her eyes causes him to groan. He exhales loudly out of his nose, “If I was talking to you, I'd say that you're an idiot for trusting im. But, obviously, I'm not talking to you…”

Fallon’s lip quirks up in a small smile. She lazily writes in her notebook, pretending not to care. “And if I was talking to you, I’d say that I’m proud of you for stepping up and getting help from someone who has more experience with this than you.” Stiles glares at her for complimenting him and she just shrugs. “It’s like the devil and angel on the shoulder thing,” she explains. “I’m the nice one.”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles narrows his eyes, “And I’ve kissed Taylor Swift.”

Scott smiles brightly as things seem to return to normal between the three for a moment. Her and Stiles make eye contact, faces going stoic for a split second. They wordlessly communicate, making Scott wonder how they learned to read each other’s facial expressions so well. Both of them turn around at the same time.

“What did Derek say?”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Walking out of their class together, Scott sticks to Fallon’s side which isn’t heavily unusual, but she’s used to him taking up Stiles’ side, not hers. Most of the time when they walk together, Stiles is in the middle while Fallon takes up his left and Scott his right. But now she’s in the middle. She doesn’t mind it, it’s clearly him feeling guilty over what happened. He even took her backpack from her before she could even grab her crutches. If this is the new treatment he’s giving her, she’s definitely not going to complain.

“Wh--? He wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?” Stiles asks him incredulously after hearing what Derek said to Scott.

“Yeah…”

“All right, well, correct me if I'm wrong, but every time you do that, you try to kill someone, and that someone is usually us.” He gestures between Fallon and himself.

Scott sighs, “I know. That’s what he means when he says he doesn’t know if he can teach me. I have to be able to control it,” he explains.

Fallon tilts her head in thought, “I mean, it’s not impossible…” she admits. “I know it feels difficult right now, but Derek has control doesn’t he?” She points out with a shrug. “He obviously learned how to do it over time. I don’t think he came out knowing how to be a werewolf. While I do believe he came out with a leather jacket and angry cat face, I don’t think he came out being an expert on control.”

“How do you think he’s going to teach you?” Stiles asks, nodding along with Fallon’s statement.

“I don’t know,” Scott adjusts his backpack strap with an unsure expression. “I don’t think he does either…”

Stiles rolls his eyes at his friend's lack of knowledge, “Okay. When are you seeing him again?”

“He told me not to talk about it,” Scott answers. “Just act normal and get through the day.”

Fallon shoots him a pointed look, “When?” She asks, knowing there has to be a more specific time than that.

Scott looks at her, huffing as he knows he can’t keep anything from her after letting her get run over. “He’s picking me up at the animal clinic after work.”

Stiles nods, “After work. All right. Well, that gives us to the end of the school day then.”

Scott furrows his brows, “To do what?”

Stiles and Fallon make eye contact, smiling in unison, “To teach you ourselves.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

When lunch rolled around, Fallon was summoned by Lydia and Allison, the two girls wanting to see how she was doing after all that happened. Unfortunately, the conversation didn’t last long as Stiles strode by, grabbing her backpack and lunch tray and taking it over to their usual table. She watched after him, jaw agape while the other two girls just looked at her confused. He just stared at her, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for her to hobble over to him. Seeing as he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon, she bid her two friends goodbye before venturing over to him.

That brings them to the present moment, her smacking the back of his head for his rude behavior. “Y’know you could’ve just asked me to sit with you like a normal person,” she scolds, plopping down in her seat.

Stiles takes her crutches, putting them on his other side so they’re not in her way. “If I would’ve done that you would’ve just put your finger up and told me to wait,” he points out. “At least this way, you couldn’t tell me no,” he smiles innocently.

Fallon narrows her eyes but can’t prevent the grin that spreads across her face. She shoves him playfully, “Don’t look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at you.”

“You’re not mad at me,” he rolls his eyes, popping a french fry from her plate into his mouth. “You can’t be mad at me. You love me too much. Your life would be so boring without me in it.”

“What you call boring most people would consider peaceful,” she shoots back sarcastically.

Stiles reaches over, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him as he messes up her hair. The two of them roughhouse for a moment before Scott not-so-subtly slides into the seat across from them, clearly still avoiding Allison.

Fallon tilts her head, still stuck in Stiles’ lap. They stare at him as he hides his face behind one of his textbooks. The girl lifts an eyebrow, “I think using the book as a shield is making your intentions more obvious,” she says. “Besides, she’s not even looking over here. She seems pretty engrossed in whatever that book is about.”

Scott peeks over the pages, noticing that his somewhat girlfriend isn’t looking in his direction. He exhales, lowering the book but not straightening his posture to full height. “So, did you guys come up with a plan yet?”

Stiles nods, silently checking with Fallon. “We think so.”

He stares at them hopefully, “Does that mean you guys don’t hate me now?”

“No,” Fallon takes a spoonful of yogurt.

“No,” Stiles scoffs in agreement. “But your crap has infiltrated Fallon and I’s life, so now we have to do something about it,” he answers sassily. “Plus, I’m definitely a better Yoda than Derek.”

“I choose to take on a more Haymitch Abernathy role in this situation,” Fallon shrugs. “Drunkenly making sure my pseudo children don’t kill themselves,” she points at the two boys.

“Okay,” Scott nods with a small smile. “Yeah, you guys can teach me.”

“Yeah, I’ll be your Yoda,” Stiles smiles.

“Yeah, you be my Yoda.”

“Your Yoda I will be,” Stiles says in a gruff voice, trying his best to mock the character from the films. Fallon chuckles, shaking her head at how horrible it was. “I said it backwards,” Stiles laughs.

“Yeah, I-I know,” Scott nods slowly, showing how he still has never watched the movies, despite how many times Stiles has begged.

“All right, you know what?” Stiles gets up angrily, grabbing Fallon’s bag and crutches before helping her up. “I definitely still hate you. Uh-huh. Oh, yeah.”

He storms off, Fallon huffing as she tries to keep pace. She shoots Scott an apologetic glance, but by the way Allison is approaching him, Stiles having a fit about Star Wars is the least of the werewolf’s worries.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon’s theatre class had ended up being rather active for the girl’s current predicament. They were introducing new stretches and class bonding exercises to get everyone ready for the Beauty and the Beast production. She was upset that she couldn’t participate, but her teacher, Ms. Potter was more than understanding. She gave Fallon the script early, granting her a free period to read over it since she can’t do any of the activities in class.

So now she sits with a highlighter dangling from her mouth on the lacrosse field, her legs sprawled out. Her eyes gaze over the pages, writing small notes in her notebook about each character and what makes them tick. She briefly glances up as Stiles throws the equipment for Scott on the floor, looking at her with curiosity.

“What are you reading?” He asks, tossing his lacrosse bag at her to hold.

She catches it with ease, setting it down beside her. “The script for the play.”

“Oh,” he comments, not knowing it was that time already. “When are auditions?”

“Next week,” she sighs, rubbing her face. “I don’t think I’m gonna audition though. There’s just too much going on.”

Stiles looks at her incredulously, “What?” He shakes his head. “No, absolutely not. You have to audition.”

“Stiles–”

“Fall, you are so good at singing,” he huffs. “You can’t just not audition. That would be like a crime to everyone’s ear holes.”

She playfully glares at him, “While I appreciate the compliment, there will be other shows for me to do. Right now, my priority is here with you and Scott.” She leans back on her arms, “Plus, I’m kind of stretched thin as it is with lacrosse and school,” she opens up honestly. “My counselor is already talking about enrolling me in a college English course next semester, so I just want to focus on getting through high school… and not getting ripped apart by a werewolf in the process.”

He looks at her with sympathy, but ultimately understands where she’s coming from. “All right. Well, you know that Scott and I would go see every show if you did decide to do it.”

“I know,” she smiles appreciatively.

At that moment, Scott comes running out of the school and over to his two friends. He stops in front of them, “Sorry I’m late,” he apologizes. “It took me a minute to convince Mr. Smith to give me a free period,” he sets his backpack on the floor next to Fallon as well.

“It’s fine,” Stiles waves off hurriedly, grabbing something and handing it to Scott. “Okay. Now, put this on,” he commands.

Scott takes it, inspecting it with a confused look, “Isn’t this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?” He queries, unsure of how it would benefit them.

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. “I borrowed it.”

“Stole it,” Fallon corrects nonchalantly, still observing the script.

Stiles speaks defensively, “Temporarily misappropriated,” he counters before turning his attention back to Scott. “Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day.”

Fallon shakes her head as Stiles pulls out a cellphone that definitely doesn’t belong to him. Scott’s jaw goes slack, “Isn’t that Coach’s phone?” He asks warily.

Stiles nods slowly, “That… I stole.”

“Why?” Scott looks at his friend, not even knowing where to start on labeling his issues.

“Because Master Yoda over here doesn’t understand the concept of rules,” Fallon smirks as Stiles looks more than offended. “Or laws, or personal boundaries. A side effect of your father being the sheriff.”

“Okay, I don’t want to hear it,” he puts his hand up in her direction. “Last time I checked, that father got you out of a speeding ticket last week when you were practically flying through a residential area like Wolverine in X-Men Origins.”

“That was a very specific comparison,” Fallon snickers.

“Anyway…” he sends Fallon a look that says to stop interrupting unless she plans on being helpful. He points to the monitor on Scott’s wrist, “All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry... Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate,” he carefully explains the theory him and Fallon had been talking about.

“Like the Incredible Hulk?”

Fallon shrugs, “Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah.” She figures letting him think he’s a superhero will get him to try harder. It’s like Stiles and his unnatural fixation with becoming Spiderman. She lets him believe it could happen. At this point, she wouldn’t be surprised if it did. He definitely wouldn’t look half bad in the suit.

Scott smiles widely, “No, I’m like the Incredible Hulk!”

Stiles rolls his eyes, “Would you shut up and put the strap on?”

The spastic boy tosses Fallon the phone, assigning her to keep track of his heart rate. The two boys travel out to the center of the field, Stiles duct taping Scott’s arms behind his back. Freckles smiles mischievously at Fallon from behind Scott. She raises an amused eyebrow, knowing this is Stiles getting revenge for the brunette girl.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my free period!” Scott complains as Stiles walks a few feet away, bending down to pick up his own lacrosse stick.

He blatantly ignores Scott’s words, “All right. You ready?” He asks, scooping a ball into his net.

“No.”

“Remember– don’t get angry,” Stiles warns him, cocking his arm back to launch the ball.

Scott shifts on his feet, eyeing Stiles unsurely. “I’m starting to think this was a really bad idea,” he voices.

Without another words, Stiles chucks the ball at Scott’s body, pelting him roughly. Fallon winces from her spot besides Stiles, glancing at the heart rate monitor. Still steady for now, only moving up one point. Stiles readies another ball, throwing it as hard as he can, nailing Scott in the chest.

“Oh, man!” The boy cries out. “Okay, that one kind of hurt.”

Fallon watches as a small satisfied smile makes its way onto Stiles’ face. He wiggles his eyebrows at her, offering his stick, “Wanna give it a go? It’s pretty therapeutic actually.”

“No!” Scott shouts with wide eyes. “Do not give her that stick.”

Stiles shushes him like a child, “Quiet. Remember, you’re supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, all right? About staying calm.” He reminds before smirking as he helps Fallon to her feet. He hands her the stick, looking Scott directly in the eye. He pats her back, helping her stay upright. “Give it a go.”

Scott starts muttering encouraging words to himself under his breath as Fallon adjusts her grip on the stick. She smoothly scoops up a ball, licking her bottom lip. She lifts the stick, throwing it roughly at her best friend. The ball collides harshly with his gut, making him double over in pain. It sounds like the wind has been knocked out of him.

“AHHH! Son of a bitch!”

“Nice!” Stiles chuckles, high fiving her. Scott shoots them an incredulous look which makes Stiles clear his throat awkwardly. He dismisses Scott, “Heart rate,” he points stiffly.

“What do you think I’m doing?!” Scott screams at them with a heavily clenched jaw.

Fallon goes to sit back down, noticing his number climbing higher with every passing second. She shares a warning glance with Stiles before looking at Scott again. “Don't get angry.”

“I’m not getting angry!” He responds frustratedly.

Stiles continues his assault on Scott as Fallon carefully monitors Coach’s phone. She begins to get nervous as she watches the numbers climb higher and higher. 140. 141. 142. That’s when Stiles knocks him in the jaw, making Scott almost fall to the ground in pain. The boy tries to regain his footing, “Stop. Just wait– Wait, just hold on–” he groans, doubling over once again, but this time he actually collapses to the floor.

157. 158. 159. 160.

“Stiles!” Fallon gets his attention, a cautionary gaze in her eyes as she flashes him the phone. Scott continues groaning as Stiles places his stick on the floor. Suddenly the duct tape around his wrist flies off in different directions. Stiles and Fallon watch him with wide eyes. He’s shifting. The heart monitor starts beeping rapidly, his heart rate reaching high numbers that are nowhere near healthy for a normal person.

“Scott?” Stiles calls out warily, trying to find a way to calm him down.

His breathing gets heavier and deeper after a moment as he clenches and unclenches his fists. Fallon glances back at the phone to see the numbers slowly decreasing and returning to normal. She and Stiles let out a breath they didn’t even know they were holding.

“That could’ve gone in a seriously horrific direction,” she mumbles to him.

Stiles nods slowly, helping Fallon to her feet. The two of them travel over to the boy who is still folded over on the ground. “Scott, you started to change…” Stiles says softly, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Scott breathes heavily as his pulse is still returning to normal, “From anger,” he adds. “But it was more than just that– it was like, the angrier I got, the stronger I felt.”

“So Derek is right,” Fallon says thoughtfully. “It is anger that elicits a reaction.”

Scott shakes his head defeatedly, “I can’t be around Allison,” he says glumly.

“Just because she makes you happy?” Stiles questions.

“No…” he looks up at them sadly. “Because she makes me weak.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon walks alongside Stiles as they walk into Coach’s economics class. The two of them snicker at a joke Fallon told him on the way in, earning a confused glance from their teacher. For how funny that man is, he sure doesn’t seem to be a big fan of laughter. The two teens just giggle again at his look of confusion before finishing their journey to the middle of the class. Stiles sets Fallon’s stuff down in the chair next to Scott’s, the two boys not having let her carry anything of her own all day. It was endearing and annoying at the same time, but she let them do it.

Stiles goes to sit behind Fallon, but a quick panicked look from Scott gets his attention. “Stiles. Sit behind me!” He whisper yells.

Fallon looks up and sees Allison beelining it for the exact same seat. Stiles scrambles to the side, trying to get all of his belongings and himself into the chair before she can. Unfortunately, he wasn’t fast enough. Allison smoothly slides into the seat, smiling at Scott as she completely ignores Stiles. Scott turns in his chair, a frown plastered on his face as his plan to avoid Allison is not going as well as he hoped.

Fallon shoots Scott a sympathetic smile before reaching in her backpack to bring out last night's homework assignment. It wasn’t anything too difficult. Just a few pages of reading and a couple of questions to help summarize the important parts.

The bell rings loudly, indicating the start of the period. Coach turns to start writing about today’s topic of discussion on the board. She watches out of her peripherals as Allison leans forward in her desk to get closer to Scott. The boy tenses, sensing her growing closer in proximity. Allison doesn’t seem to notice the awkward tension as she goes to talk to him.

“Hey,” she smiles happily. “I haven’t seen you all day.”

Scott barely looks back, “Uh, yeah. I’ve been, uh, super busy,” he looks at Stiles and Fallon for help.

His two friends shrug at his misfortune, Fallon sinking further into her chair to avoid watching this train wreck go down. Scott has a look of momentary desperation until he has to cover it up when Allison grows closer. “When are you gonna get your phone fixed? I feel like I’m totally disconnected from you.”

Yikes. Fallon’s phone buzzes with a text from Stiles.

She sneakily pulls it out, hiding it underneath her desk to respond. I don’t know if I should be embarrassed for her or for him.

She’s clueless and he’s awkward. Why can’t it be both?

True. She giggles at his reply. I feel bad. They’re both happy when they’re together. Sucks that they can’t be.

I mean, we don’t know that yet. Stiles counters.

He said she makes him weak. She reminds him.

Once he learns how to control it, it’ll be fine. He reassures her. We just gotta show him that he won’t hurt her. Or anyone else.

Yeah, ‘cause this gross couple-ey mutual pining crap is starting to get on my nerves. She rolls her eyes as Allison tells Scott she switched her lab partner to him. She loves them both together, she really does. But Fallon’s hopeless romanticism stops in the fictional worlds she reads about.

You’re such a romantic. Stiles smirks at her with sarcasm written on his face. It really is a shock that you’re still single.

Ditto.

Stiles kicks the back of her chair and she leans her head back, looking at him upside down. She smiles innocently, booping his nose before sitting upright again. He scoffs lowly, crossing his arms as he tries to act offended by her response.

A book slamming on a desk pulls everyone’s attention to the front. Coach Finstock has a menacing look on his face as he analyzes the class, “Let’s settle down,” he commands. “Let’s start with a quick summary of last night’s reading.” Only one individual raises their hand, causing Coach to roll his eyes. “Greenberg, put your hand down. Everybody knows you did the reading,” he dismisses the boy, more annoyed now than he was before class. “How about, uh…” Everyone avoids eye contact with their teacher like the plague, trying to avoid being the one he calls on. “McCall!”

Scott looks up at him like a deer in the headlights, “What?”

Coach moves to sit on his desk, the tension within the small classroom slowly growing. “The reading.”

Scott shuffles uncomfortably in his seat, “… Last night's reading?” He wonders, seemingly trying to stall so he doesn’t have to do it.

Coach grows irritated with the question, starting to realize that Scott didn’t do the assignment, “H-How about, uh, the reading of The Gettysburg Address?” He suggests sardonically making the rest of the class laugh. Fallon wiggles her own between her fingers nervously. Coach making fun of him like this is going to make him shift in front of everyone.

Scott looks even more confused, “What?”

“That’s sarcasm,” Coach reveals with a tilt of his head. “You familiar with the term sarcasm, McCall?”

He slowly turns to the two friends on his right, “Very,” he answers. Fallon simply glares at him while Stiles smiles proudly, patting Fallon’s back like it’s a team effort. Which, most of the time it is.

Coach huffs, looking at him expectantly, “Did you do the reading, or not?”

The boy plays with the pages of the book in front of him, his embarrassment increasing. “Um, I think I forgot…”

“Nice work, McCall,” his teacher praises fakely. “It’s not like you’re not averaging a D in this class.” He leans forward on Scott’s desk, his anger being replaced by concern. “Come on, buddy. You know I can’t keep you on the team if you have a D.”

Fallon’s attention is stolen when she hears the familiar beeping of Coach’s phone tracking the heart monitor. She pulls it out of her pocket, eyes widening when she sees Scott’s pulse rising. Stiles leans forward, watching along with her as the numbers start to increase with everything Coach says.

“How about you summarize, uh, the previous night’s reading?” He suggests. 98. 99. 100.

Scott silently shakes his head, hoping that he somehow finds a supernatural way to turn invisible. “No?” Finstock mocks. “How about, the uh, the night before that?” Scott fiddles with his fingers as he avoids eye contact. 122. 123. 124. “How about you summarize anything you’ve ever read in your entire life?!” 135. 136. 137.

“I-I… uh–”

“No? A blog?” Coach asks, looking for any sort of hope that Scott’s done something. “How about, uh, h-how about, uh, the back of a cereal box?” Scott tries to hide his face behind his hand as their teacher continues grilling him. Fallon is now bouncing her leg up and down, hoping that Scott gets some sort of reprieve from this. “No? How about the adults-only warning from your favorite website you visit every night? Anything?” When Scott doesn’t answer, Coach gives up and goes to retreat back to his desk. “Thank you, McCall, thank you. Thank. You. McCall.” He emphasizes with a slap to his desk. “Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I have for your generation.” 159. 160. 161.

Fallon looks at Scott, trying to comfort him with a sympathetic smile, but he doesn’t notice. His face simply grows redder and redder and his chest heaves up and down with angry breaths. “You just blew it for everybody,” Coach continues. “Thanks. Next practice, you can start with suicide runs. Unless that’s too much reading.”

Suddenly the monitor stops beeping as rapidly. Fallon glances at it surprised as she watches his heart rate start to go down. Despite all the laughter and snickers from their classmates, it’s actually going down. Fallon and Stiles visibly relax and when they look over to their friend, they see his arm reaching backwards. Allison is holding his hand tightly, rubbing her thumb across the top of it comfortingly. Fallon tilts her head. Maybe Scott was right in a way. Allison is his weakness, but in a way that gives him control. She keeps his anger at bay, keeps him grounded.

When the bell rings, they all could not be happier to get out of there. Scott still looks a bit mortified after everything that happened. Stiles once again grabs Fallon’s bag, carrying it on his shoulder. Allison bids her goodbyes to Scott, heading in the opposite direction the trio is. As soon as they are sure she’s out of ear shot, Fallon smacks his arm, “Dude, it’s her.”

“What do you mean?” He tilts his head, confused by the random statement.

“It’s Allison,” Fallon elaborates while Stiles nods along.

“Remember what you told me about the night of the full moon?” He brings up. “You were thinking about her, right? About protecting her.”

“Okay…” Scott says, still not understanding what they’re getting at.

“Remember the night of the first lacrosse game? You said you could hear her voice out on the field,” Stiles adds, trying to see if he can put it together.

Scott nods with a small smile, “Yeah, I did.”

“Well, that's what brought you back so you could pass the ball and we could score,” Fallon finishes explaining. “And then, after the game, in the locker room, you didn't kill her– at least, not like how you were trying to kill us.” Scott frowns, sending her a pointed look. Fallon huffs, “She’s like your anchor is what I’m saying. She brings you back. No need to get your werewolf panties in a bunch.”

Scott shakes his head at her statement, “No, no, no. But it's not always true, because literally every time I'm kissing her, or-or touching her–”

Fallon’s nose scrunched up in disgust as Stiles cuts him off, “No, that’s not the same. When you’re doing that, you’re just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex, y’know?”

“I really do not want to be having this conversation with you two,” Fallon grumbles uncomfortably, especially when she notices the smirk on Scott’s face. She groans, squeezing her eyes shut, “You’re thinking about it right now, aren’t you?”

He chuckles sheepishly, “Yeah,” he admits. “Sorry.”

“Just don’t ever give me any details on anything you guys do, okay?” Fallon says before shaking off her disgust. “Anyway, back in the classroom when she held your hand, that was different. She may be your weakness per say, but not in the way you originally thought. I think she actually gives you control. You might go feral if she gets hurt, but that’s besides the point. She’s what actually keeps you human.”

“You mean because I love her?”

“Exactly,” Stiles nods.

Fallon’s eyes widen slightly at the sudden admission. She wasn’t expecting Scott to just randomly admit that out loud. He apparently wasn’t expecting himself to say it either, “Did I just say that?” He asks them.

“Yeah,” Fallon smiles softly. “You did.”

Scott gets even more giddy than he already was, readjusting his straps as he continues to profess his love. “I love her.”

Stiles rolls his eyes impatiently, “That’s great! Now moving on–”

“No, no, no, really– I think I’m totally in love with her,” he insists.

“And that's beautiful. Now, before you go off and write a sonnet, can we figure this out, please?” Stiles gesticulates over dramatically. “Because you obviously can't be around her all the time.”

Scott snaps back, refocusing on the task at hand. He nods, “Yeah, yeah, yeah… Sorry. So, what do I do?”

“We don’t know,” the boy huffs, pausing for a moment. “Yet.”

Scott looks at him alarmed, “Oh, no. You’re getting an idea, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” Stiles smirks.

“Is this idea going to get me in trouble?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Fallon nods, not knowing the specifics of the plan, but knowing Stiles well enough that it’s going to entail some more revenge.

Scott groans, “Is this idea gonna cause me physical pain?”

Stiles nods rapidly, “Yeah, definitely. Come on.”

Fallon crutches along behind the two boys, furrowing her eyebrows as they head out to the parking lot. Stiles looks back at her and she tilts her head, silently asking what his plan is. The boy simply shakes his head, mouthing “just wait.”

Scott looks just as lost as Fallon, “What are we doing?”

“You’ll see. Hold on,” Stiles looks into the distance as if he’s checking something before turning around to instruct Scott. “Okay, stand right there. Do you have your keys?” Scott pulls them out to show him. “Perfect. Hold ‘em up like so,” he demonstrates, lazily holding his arm up in the air. “Now, whatever happens, just think about Allison. Try to find her voice like you did at the game. Got it?”

“Okay…”

“Fallon, my partner in crime, come stand with me please,” Stiles requests and she moves over to him. “Just keep holding it right there…” He summons Fallon to follow him as he sneakily walks over to the black truck behind them. She narrows her eyes as she watches him pull out his own keys. Her jaw drops as Stiles nonchalantly keys the truck before sliding his keys back into his pocket. He taps her shoulder, telling her to call attention to it.

Fallon looks at Scott who’s silently begging her not to do what Stiles is saying. She glances back at Stiles who is just nodding menacingly. “Do it,” he whispers.

She sighs, sending Scott an apologetic look, “Dude! What the hell do you think you're doing to that truck?!” She yells fakely. Stiles has to hold back the mini celebration he wants to have as the owner of said truck turns around.

“What the hell?!” The student yells, approaching Scott who nervously fumbles with his keys. He tries to shake his head, saying it wasn’t him who did it, but the other student clearly isn’t buying it.

“Oh my God!” Fallon shouts, flinching backwards as the guy socks Scott in the face without hesitation.

Stiles grips onto her as Scott tries to fight the guy back, but he’s over powered when the other student’s friends decide to join in. Scott is thrown to the floor, giving the others the upper hand as they drag him backwards. They continue hitting him in the face and kicking his abdomen. Fallon hears the phone beeping once more and she sends Stiles a glare.

“This was your brilliant idea?” She snaps.

“If he just thinks of Allison, it should work!” He defends. His eyes travel back to Scott as Fallon pulls out the phone. His heart rate is spiking once again. “Ahh,” he taps his foot nervously. “Come on. Stay calm. Stay calm.”

Fallon looks over her shoulder, “Is there really no one here to stop this? No teachers? Nothing?” She asks with a scoff.

“Oh, that's not okay.” Stiles winces. 129. 130. 131. “Scott, come on, buddy…”

Fallon feels the need to interfere, but the way Stiles is clutching onto her prevents her from going anywhere. She holds her breath, waiting for this nightmare to be over. She knows Scott will heal from all of this, but it’s still hard for her to watch him get beat up like this.

Out of nowhere, Mr. Harris comes barreling through, barking at the assailants to stop. The brunette girl never thought she would be grateful to see Mr. Harris, but she stands corrected. The other boys run off, leaving Scott on the floor with a bloodied up nose and a decent amount of bruising. Something probably broke, but isn’t visible due to his supernatural healing.

“What do you idiots think you’re doing?” Harris asks harshly, glaring down at Scott through his glasses.

None of them could even bother responding to his insult, the only thing they’re focused on is the fact Scott managed to control his rage. Stiles and Fallon smile at each other.

“He did it.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Detention.

Fallon should’ve assumed that this is where they were going to end up after Mr. Harris caught them outside. She just wished she brought something more entertaining to school today so she could occupy her mind while being stuck here. She has a chair pulled up at the end of Scott and Stiles’ table. The three of them sitting rather dejectedly even though they technically just succeeded in teaching Scott control.

The brunette girl sketches in her notebook, drawing the Beacon Hills woods from memory. Stiles watches her interestedly, leaning forward to look at her work. He tries not to move too far forward as her broken leg rests on his lap for some form of elevation.

“That's really good,” he compliments.

She smiles, “You think so?”

“Yeah,” he nods with a scoff, like she’s stupid for even asking such a question. “Like I would frame that. Y’know, if I had the money to buy a frame… How about I hang it on my fridge?”

Fallon laughs softly, ripping the page out and handing it to him. “Do what makes you happy.”

He grins, carefully putting the drawing in his backpack. The two of them look at Scott who shifts around in his seat. He’s antsy to get out of here. After a moment, he finally speaks to Mr. Harris, “Excuse me, sir?” He gets their teacher’s attention. “Uh, I know it’s detention and all, but, uh… I’m supposed to be at work, and I don’t want to get fired.”

Despite Scott’s polite request, Mr. Harris just grins fakely at the boy, looking back down at the paper he is grading. Fallon shakes her head annoyed. She didn’t understand how someone who hates kids could choose a profession where they sit with them all day.

Scott tries to go back to working on his homework, but can’t stop himself from talking to his friends on the other side of him. “You knew I would heal,” he says, with an almost impressed tone of voice.

“Yep,” Stiles nods. “We both did.”

“So you did that to help me learn?”

“Yep,” he repeats, rubbing his hands together.

“…But partially to punish me.”

“Thought that one was obvious,” Fallon mutters, hitting her pen on the desk to a steady rhythm.

Scott sighs, looking at them sadly, “Guys, you’re my best friends,” he says, regret etched in his eyes. “And I can’t have you both being angry with me.”

Both her and Stiles pause for a moment. Fallon sucks in a deep breath, looking at Scott sincerely, “We’re not angry at you anymore.”

Stiles turns to him, “Look. You have something, Scott, okay? Whether you want it or not, you can do things that nobody else can do. So, that means you don't have a choice anymore– it means you have to do something.”

Scott nods his head, really taking in Stiles’ words. “I know,” he agrees. “And I will.”

“Just next time a car comes barreling at me and Allison, try to give me a five second warning so I can at least try to save myself,” Fallon says lightheartedly.

“There won’t be a next time,” Scott shakes his head. “I won’t let anything happen to you. Not again.”

Fallon smiles toothlessly, reaching across the table to grab his hand. Stiles places his on top of theirs, all of them coming to a truce. Mr. Harris watches from afar, his frozen heart slightly touched by the display. He rolls his eyes, “All right, all three of you– out of here,” he gestures towards the door with his head.

The three of them look at him with wide eyes, but nonetheless stand up and start collecting their stuff. For once the boys allow Fallon to carry her own backpack. She wings it over her shoulder and adjusts herself on her crutches before following after them.

“Miss Donovan,” Mr. Harris calls out. She internally screams, not wanting to speak to him more than she has to, especially after what her father said to him on parent-teacher conference night.

She turns, “Yes sir?”

“I hope this shows that I do not hate you, Mr. McCall, or Mr. Stilinski. I meant what I said. I see a potential in you that I… struggle to see within them. Or at least I did,” he concedes. “But if I keep witnessing displays like that,” he refers to their conversation, “then perhaps I can admit where I was wrong. They aren’t all bad.”

Fallon shuffles awkwardly, not knowing how to react to him being kind. “Thank you?” She says it more as a question than statement.

Mr. Harris nods, “And I hope your leg gets better. I’m sorry to hear that happened to you.”

“Yeah…” she nods. “I’m all right though.”

“Well, have a good rest of your day,” he says, suddenly reverting back to his cold demeanor as he looks back down at the worksheets in front of him.

She sighs, heading back towards the door, “You too.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon didn’t even get a chance to get dropped off by Stiles before Scott called them, explaining that Derek showed up to the animal clinic and attacked Deaton. The older werewolf thinks that Scott’s boss may be the Alpha. Hearing that made the girl's blood run cold. She’s spoken to Deaton a couple of times and she never would have guessed him to be the murderous werewolf they’ve been looking for.

Scott requested them to come pick him up because he told Derek to meet them at the school. So Stiles and Fallon did a quick pit stop at his house to grab supplies they’ll need to break into the school and then they quickly go pick up their friend. When the arrive, Scott picks up Fallon, helping her out of the jeep.

They move to the trunk, Stiles glancing around worriedly, “This is a terrible idea.”

“Yeah, I know,” Scott admits.

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, “But we’re still gonna do it…?” She asks incredulously.

“Can you think of something better?” Scott questions a bit harshly.

Stiles shrugs, “Well, personally, I’m a fan of ignoring a problem until eventually it just goes away…”

Scott gives him a deadpan look, “Just make sure we can get inside.”

The headlights from Derek’s Camaro practically blind Fallon as he pulls up. She glances down at her watch. Ten-thirty. She hopes her dad believed her when she said she’d be sleeping over at Stiles’. Noah and him are working the overnight shift so as long as they choose to believe her and Stiles, they should be okay.

“He’s here,” she mumbles to Scott and Stiles.

Scott’s the first one to approach Derek as he smoothly slides out of the driver’s seat. Fallon crutches behind Scott, peeking out from behind his shoulder to look at Derek. “Where’s my boss?” Scott demands darkly.

“He’s in the back,” Derek replies shortly, nodding to the back window of his car.

Fallon glances through the window seeing Deaton tied up and knocked out. She feels bad for the man, even if he is the Alpha, there is no way he's waking up without a creak in his neck. Stiles scoffs, “Oh, well, he looks comfortable,” he comments sarcastically.

Derek shrugs, his suspect’s comfortability not a concern to him in the slightest. Stiles shakes his head in annoyance before waving at Scott to follow him towards the school. Fallon decided to stay outside as she didn’t feel like moving super far with her crutches if she didn’t have to. They tend to dig into her armpits when she walks around excessively. She removes them from under her arms and leans against the Camaro, figuring Derek wouldn’t mind.

“Wait–” Derek calls out, confused as to what they're doing. “Hey. What are you doing?”

Scott turns around, “You said I was linked with the Alpha– I’m gonna see if you’re right,” he replies before finishing his journey to the entrance of the school.

Fallon glances into the window and frowns when she looks at Deaton. She still can’t even fathom that he could be the Alpha. He’s so kind, gentle even. He takes care of animals, he wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not on purpose anyway.

Derek eyes her for a moment before slowly inching closer to her. He points to her leg, “How are you feeling?” His voice was low, gruff—almost like he was forcing himself to ask.

She looks up at him with a shrug, “Okay, I guess. Just a little sore. It’s also really hard to scratch when I have an itch,” she admits. “Not that you needed to know that last part.”

“It’s all right,” he replies, hands buried in his pockets. “Friends can share those details, can’t they?” He lifts an eyebrow, leaning against the car alongside her.

Fallon smiles at him, “Yeah, I guess they can.”

“Have you been taking your pain medication?” He questions curiously.

“Yeah,” she nods. “Actually… I may have forgotten tonight,” she says thoughtfully. “I left my backpack at Stiles’ house. Haven’t exactly had a minute of downtime today to think about it.” She tried to keep her tone light, but she couldn’t help the slight edge of frustration that crept in. She wasn’t used to being this vulnerable, this...weak.

He glowers at her for a moment, “You better take it when you get back there,” he says strictly. “If you’re in pain, it’s only going to slow you down.”

She met his gaze, surprised at the concern lacing his words. It wasn’t like Derek to show he cared—at least, not openly. “I’m not planning on going anywhere fast, Hale.”

Derek huffed, almost like he was amused. Almost. “Good. Because if you do, you’re going to fall flat on your face.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, despite herself. “Are you offering to catch me if I do?”

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes searching hers for a beat too long. “You wouldn’t need to be caught if you were more careful,” he said finally, his tone firm but lacking its usual bite.

Fallon let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re really bad at this whole comforting thing, you know that?”

“I’m not trying to be comforting,” Derek replied, his eyes flicking back to the school. But his posture had softened just a fraction, his stance less rigid than before.

They fell into silence again, the sounds of the night surrounding them. Fallon shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure on her leg. “So what exactly was your original plan when you were gonna pick up Scott?”

Derek’s jaw tightens, “Teach him control,” he answers.

“Okay, obviously,” she rolls her eyes. “But how?”

“Test him. See what he can handle. Try to help him find a way to ground himself,” he explains briefly. “And if he couldn’t figure it out…”

“Then you’d step in,” she finishes for him. She looks at him, “Would you hurt him?” She wonders softly. “Y’know… if he couldn’t do it.”

He glances at her again, his expression softening just a touch. “If he puts anyone else at risk, yes.”

She nods, appreciating his straightforwardness. It was something she’d come to value in Derek, even if he was rough around the edges. “I can handle myself, you know. A broken leg isn’t going to stop me.”

Derek’s eyes darkened, his gaze dropping to her leg before meeting hers again. “You shouldn’t have to.”

The words hung between them, heavier than she expected. Fallon felt her chest tighten, the weight of everything they’d been through pressing down on her. But instead of feeling stifled, she felt… understood.

“Thanks, Derek,” she says quietly, her voice sincere.

He gave a short nod, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment before turning back to the school. “Just don’t make a habit of getting hurt,” he muttered, the gruffness back in his voice.

Fallon smiled to herself, leaning back against the car. “No promises.”

All of a sudden, out of nowhere the wimpiest howl Fallon has ever heard echoes over the PA system. Her jaw drops as she fights off the urge to laugh. She couldn’t even think of what to classify that as. It sounded like a cat having gas pains.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Derek winces as if listening to that was physically painful. Truthfully, it was. She normally tries to be an encouraging person, but that was awful. She’s pretty sure her ears would have bled if it had gone on any longer. She silently hopes that Stiles finds some way to inspire Scott to dig deep. Because at this rate, there’s no way the Alpha is coming.

When the second howl comes through, it actually makes the girl jump. This one is deep and powerful. It manages to cause the building to shake, making the doors vibrate with a loud jangle. A surge of fear fills Fallon’s veins as she realizes that this is it. There’s no way the Alpha could ignore that. She’ll have to face him again. Derek can sense the sudden shift in her demeanor. He can smell the chemo signals radiating off of her. Her face remains still, but her insides are twisting in ways they shouldn’t be.

“Hey,” Derek gets her attention. “You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he reassures.

She nods, not having the ability to come up with a more witty response. She tries to shake off the overwhelming feeling that something bad is going to happen, but it continues to linger over her. Eventually Scott and Stiles make it out of the school, meeting a very pissed off Derek and a concerned Fallon. “I’m gonna kill both of you,” the elder of them threatens furiously. “What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?”

Scott tries to apologize genuinely, but anyone can see how proud of himself he is. “Sorry… I didn’t know it would be that loud.”

“Yeah,” Stiles scoffs excitedly, “it was loud… And it was awesome…” he finishes in a sing-song voice.

Fallon can’t help but smirk, pushing her growing worries aside. “Gotta admit Scotty, that was impressive.” She stiffens when noticing Derek’s glare, “I mean– not impressive. Not impressive at all,” she clears her throat awkwardly.

Derek looks at her incredulously, “Shut up.”

Her lips form a tight-line. So much for the moment they just shared. Stiles narrows his eyes, “Don’t be such a sour-wolf,” he mocks, pulling Fallon closer to him and Scott. She stumbles slightly, trying to get ahold of her crutches.

“Could you be a bit gentler, please?” She scoffs.

“What’d you do with him?” Scott asks snippily, pointing to Derek’s car which is now open.

“What?” The man’s eyes widen as he turns around. He looks baffled as he sees the backseat is empty. The nervous feeling fills Fallon’s gut again. Deaton was knocked out cold. There’s no way he could just get up and walk out without at least one of them hearing him. “I didn’t do anything,” he tells them.

“He didn’t,” Fallon confirms. “We’ve been talking the whole time.”

However, nothing else can be said as hot blood spurts out of Derek’s mouth and onto Fallon’s face. She stumbles back in shock before screaming loudly. Derek is being lifted in the air, claws belonging to the Alpha ripping straight through his back. His green eyes are wide as he chokes on his own bodily fluids.

Fallon tries to tell herself to move, but her body won’t listen. Staring into the bright red eyes of the creature that invaded her space, who made her feel unsafe, rendered her paralyzed. She can’t even blink as she watches the Alpha chuck Derek across the parking lot into the wall of the school. His body hits the ground with a loud crash. She makes eye contact with the monster as Scott and Stiles pick her up, carrying her into the school. She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from it. Again, the expression it wears is almost mocking. Like it’s silently telling her she’s existing on borrowed time.

She’s only brought back to earth when the doors to the school slam shut, both of the boys setting her on the ground before holding the doors closed. Her eyes still look distant, disturbed. Scott and Stiles share a concerned look, not just for their situation but for their friend who is once again covered in Derek’s blood.

#derek hale #stiles stilinski #lydia martin #scott mccall #teen wolf #allison argent #chris argent #female reader #jackson whittemore #love story #noah stilinski #melissa mccall #derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #teen wolf season 1 #original character

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