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#and i think martins hair is a little more brunette than that
glenncoco4 · 2 years
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Not Another Teen Movie
Mrs. Flanagan is rambling on about quadratic equations, at least he thinks she’s talking about. His full attention however is on something else…rather someone else, just as it has been every day since she first walked into the door mid-semester. Kensi.
He always made fun of love-sick teens in those movies, scribbling the name of the person that has their affection. More often than not, invisible to said person. Marty Deeks isn’t one to show off to gain the attention of others, but her attention…now that’s a different story.
Joining wood shop was something he never imagined himself doing and he most definitely never imagined joining JROTC but if it gave him just a little bit more time with her, he’d join the girl’s soccer team if the coach would let him.
He’s just about finished with his most recent doodle of Kensi’s name in his notebook and about to begin another, taking a longing glance towards the brunette whose hair is down today, when Mrs. Flanagan's voice is suddenly directed at him. “Martin, care to share with the class what has you so focused on that notebook of yours?”
He feels his heart start to race as every one of his classmates turns to look at him, a certain pair of mismatched chocolate orbs locking with his for a brief moment. A beautiful moment nonetheless. “No, I’m okay, thanks.”
“I think your classmates have a right to know why you think you should get to draw while the rest of them have to listen to me teach.”
“Really, Mrs. F, it’s okay.”
She starts walking towards him, his living nightmare. He feels the hole form in the pit of his stomach at the thought of his doodles being seen. Just as she makes it down his aisle the bell rings, he lets out a sigh of relief, sending the universe a quick thanks for having his back, and hurriedly grabs his things, moving as fast as he can towards the exit, and onto wood shop.
Woodshop…now this is where things can get dangerous, not in a physical sense but in the, ‘Oh my god, I’m sitting right across from the girl of my dreams, don’t make a fool of yourself, Marty, sense.’
There’s no doodling her name here, too obvious and well seeing as though they share a table, she’d more than likely see his pages of artwork.
As he finds his seat, the brunette finds hers, sending him a smile just as the bell rings. His heart melts just like it does every time she looks at him, it's all he can do not to stare at her and daydream for the rest of class.
45 minutes later he finds himself packing up to go. Trying to stay calm as his newly appointed partner grabs her things and walks up to his side of the table. “So about the project.”
“Did you wanna get together after school maybe?”
“Yo Marty, come on!” Derrick shouts from across the room, disrupting the pair’s conversation.
The blonde looks to his friend, sending him a death glare before turning back to the star defender with a sad smile. “Sorry, I can’t…surf practice. Coach Montoya makes us do 20 sand sprints if anyone’s late, I’d hate to see what she’d do if one of us doesn’t show up.”
“Yeah, okay. We can set up a time to work on our project tomorrow in class then. If you’re not busy Saturday night, wanna get together after my game?”
A smile spreads to his face as he does everything he can not to stumble over his words like a lovesick fool. “I’d like that.”
“Talk tomorrow then?”
“Let's go, Romeo.” Derrick yells, shaking his head as he watches the scene play out before him.
The surfer bites his bottom lip, stopping himself from letting anything come out of his mouth that would make him feel more embarrassed. “Tomorrow.”
She watches as the blonde runs over to his friends, scolding him as he laughs and playfully nudges him. Turning back towards her, he waves, his rosy cheeks and an embarrassed smile ever so present which makes her smile in return.
In their short little conversation, neither noticed the object laying on the table. “Hey, wait, you forgot your-“ She would’ve ran after him but the time on the clock catches her eye and just like Coach Montoya, Coach Carter doesn’t like tardiness. Quickly grabbing her partner’s forgotten notebook, the brunette makes her own hastily exit. She’ll just have to give it to him later.
“Oh, god. Where is it?’ He riffles through his backpack one last time, nervous panic setting in. This is not good. Not good at all. If it got into the wrong hands…bad, this is bad.
Derrick’s brow furrows as he watches his best friend freak out. “What’s wrong with you man?”
“Wrong? Noth-nothing’s wrong. Why would you think something’s wrong?”
“Well, you’re sweating…like a lot and you’re squirmy.”
“And?”
“And you only get that way when a certain someone is around.”
The blonde stops rifling through his bag briefly to send the other surfer a death glare. “Shut up.”
“Am I wrong though?”
“I just lost my notebook, that’s all. It had my Trig homework in it.”
“Where’s the last place you remember having it?” The curly-haired teen leans back against the lockers with a bemused smile on his face as his friend continues to dig through his bag yet again.
“I know I had it when I left class and then I went straight to wood shop.”
“Okay, did you take it out there?”
“I couldn’t…I mean, no.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah…”
“You don’t sound sure, dude.”
“I was kinda distracted.”
It suddenly hits Derrick why that was. “I bet you were, Romeo.”
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I did take it out so I could get my rash guard.” His fingers find the bridge of his nose in exasperation.
“Then you probably left it on the table.”
“Not good.”
“Why, not good?”
“Well, it’s my Trig homework but there also might be something in there that I wouldn’t want a certain person seeing.”
“Oh, that was THE notebook.” The curly-haired surfer cringes for the unfortunate circumstance that his best friend finds himself in.
“Shit.” His head finds contact with his locker door. How could he be so careless? If she’s the one that picked up his binder it could be bad for him especially since they’re partnered up for the next 2 months.
“Sorry, dude.” Derrick shakes his head, giving his mate a comforting pat on the back before walking off to his next class.
Begrudgingly, Marty opens his locker, trying to think of what he’ll say if this gets out, there’s always changing his name and moving to Mexico. Shaking his head, he reaches for his Chemistry book when something catches eye. There, leaning right against his Art Portfolio is his missing notebook…THE notebook.
Quickly grabbing the now found object, the surfer opens it up and feels the heat rise to his cheeks seeing two Post-Its on the front page, one with his name doodled on it, the other…
555-0122
- Kensi
The smile that spreads to his face is so big it almost makes his face hurt, but it’s so worth it. Turning his head, he takes a chance, looking towards her locker, hoping to see her there and is captivated more than ever before as her eyes meet his and a knowing smile spreads to her face. He knew it before but is more sure than ever before now…his heart is hers forever.
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Evidence holds us together
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Snipers nest part 2 
Amelia had worked hard into the night, this job would be the death of her. 
The next day wasn’t going to be any easier yet she wasn’t aware of this as she fell asleep just after half one. 
 Amelia woke up to two missed calls and four texts from the team. There had been another shooting. God. The idea of this sniper being anywhere at any moment made her tummy twist in the most uncomfortable feeling. 
Waking up late resulted in her missing the chance to join the crime scene. Yet she didn’t let that get her down, after a quick trip to her local starbuck’s drive through she arrived at the Lyell. Jack had informed her through text that this was most likely a cover up, an attempt to distract the team from the death of Martin Cross. 
The Lyell was quiet when she arrived, Clarissa was due in later. There was always an eerie silence when she sat in the building on her own. She shrugged it off and focused on sending her inquiry to the coroner. 
When the team returned that late morning, Amelia had spent a lot of time thinking about the sniper and she agreed that Martin Cross was the main target. 
Sliding away from her desk, she stretched and then headed to the room, where Jack and the detectives were talking. Making sure not to forget the folder of Shelia Cross’s hosprital records. 
Jack looked up from the folder he was holding as Amelia walked in. She gave him a small smile and walked swiftly into the room. Cloud was pacing back and forth, DCI De Freitas stood facing Nikki with her arms folded. Wow, the tension in the room was thick. If only she brought her butter knife. 
“We really think you need to focus back on Martin cross” Nikki stated. 
Amelia placed her folder on the desk where Nikki was standing and turned to face the detectives. 
Nikki was right. 
This was the logical approach, the evidence was screaming at them. 
The DCI shifted, “We just Canvassed his entire street!” 
“Neighbors haven't got a bad thing to say about him” Cloud huffed mid pace. 
Amelia inspected them both. They looked tired. Cloud wouldn’t meet her eye and he looked at Jack, ignoring Amelia completely. Amelia crossed her arms over her chest as he continued, “Did the barbecue at the annual street party blah, blah, blah” 
The brunette narrowed her eyes at the detective, her mouth parting to interject. 
Before she could say something that would threaten her job, Jack intervened. Glancing to the side she watched Jack carefully. 
“These same neighbours that who didn’t report his domestic violence?” he said looking up from the folder he was holding. 
“We can’t prove that” 
Amelia interjected, stepping forward slightly “We pulled hospital records for Shelia Cross” She turned and reached for the folder she had brought in with her and begun flicking through the medical documents inside she glanced up at the DCI.   “way more falls than a supposedly healthy forty one year old should typically sustain.” She looked towards cloud ”Her son Craig even broke his arm last christmas supposedly fulling off his bike”
DCI De Freitas shook her head, “Ok, Martin Cross may have been the most abusive husband and father in history- I still don’t have a suspect!” Amelia held the folder a little tighter. 
She glanced over at Nikki  as she ran a hand through her hair in frustration. 
It was comforting to notice that Nikki mirrored her expression of discontent. 
“Look, Sheila Cross is a recluse. Ok? “ Cloud stated. Amelia shook her head disagreeing straight away. Why could they understand that there was more to this? 
“She’s got no brothers, no sisters, no friends to speak of, no secret lover-” 
“Wow really Cloud? ” Amelia snapped, rolling her eyes in the process 
“I’m pretty sure I’m seeing some big red flags here! ” 
Cloud met her gaze and took a step closer to Amelia, she had definitely got his attention.  He rose his voice, causing Amelia to flinch slightly.“Would you listen!”  A flash of a memory caused her eyes to widen slightly. “There is no obvious candidate that would shed blood in her name.”
  Who the hell did he think he was? Treating her as if she was some child? 
Jack chucked the folder he was holding on the desk, the sound slicing the tension between the detective and forensic scientist. He looked up at the two from his chair, his expression was neutral yet there was something of a cold glare directed at older man. Simply he stated,  
“Then we need to look closer” 
Yet, Cloud and De Freitas were not listening. 
 De Freitas let out a frustrated sigh and looked away. “We’re taking the surveillance off her house” 
There was a pause. A short brief pause. Ameila like to called them ‘Silence in the face of stupidity pauses ’ Unfortunately … they seemed to happen more and more. 
Jack rose his eyebrow at the statement, Nikki gaped at De Freitas, Amelia … well Amelia was just about to hit the roof. Yet she was a professional, so she gripped her cardigan a little tighter. 
“What?”
 De Freitas continued her statement  somewhat defensively, “We have too. “ She shrugged
 ”It’s all hands on deck until school’s out” The woman shrugged. She had the audacity to shrug her shoulders at them like it was some sort of game? Amelia took a deep breath, licking her lips slightly.  “You can’t possibly begin to cover every school in London..” She stated. 
This was just  impossible. 
“No,”De Freitas stated as she straightened up, “best we can do is a shortlist based on geographic profile”   
Now that was something that made sense.  Jack looked towards his two friends, sharing a look with Nikki. 
“Ok” Nikki nodded, “we know someone who can help there”
*************************************************************************************************************
Soon after, Jack had headed off to visit Mrs Cross. He had mentioned about finding more information about Martins laptop and the situation within the Cross’s home.
 Amelia was deep in thought as she returned from her lunch break. That poor kid, he must have been through so much. Glancing at her phone she realized it was almost time for the meeting they had scheduled. 
She headed to the meeting room were Clarissa was setting up. 
“Hiya” She smiled. “Hows things?” 
Clarissa was fiddling with the remote for the screen. She looked up, “Hiya Amy. Nearly all set the others should be here in a second” 
“That’s good! Oh! Got you a Kit Kat” Amelia smiled. She pulled it out her pocket and handed it to Clarissa. A warm smile was present on Clarissa’s face. “Thanks Amy, whatever would I do without my favorite forensic scientist” 
“Oh!” She beamed, “ Don’t tell Jack your picking favorites now, he will get jealous” She winked at Clarissa as she sat down. 
The others began coming into the room. Thomas was preoccupied with his phone, Nikki and De Freitas walked in side by side. Cloud and another man walked into the room quickly finishing their conversation and lastly Gabby strolled in. 
Clarissa fired up the screen, as everyone took their seats. 
“Okay, as we know, the victim dispersal suggests the sniper’s comfort zone is around the southwest corner of the M25” Clarissa stated seriously. 
Cloud shifted from the corner of the room, “What if he knows all about comfort zones and decides to go somewhere else?” he asked. 
“I’m not going to pretend otherwise these are my best educated guesses based on the evidence available” Clarissa replied. 
 De Freitas leaned forward “Also the intelligence we put out on the volvo could’ve caused him to dump it.” she look towards Cloud and the other detective and then at everyone else, “He could be on foot, on a bike, in a van. Assume nothing” 
Cloud placed his hands on his hips and swayed slightly, “Well if you can kill from half a mile away, what chance have we got?” 
 De Freitas rose her eyebrows, “What of catching him? Not much, Deterring him is another story” She turned back to Clarissa as she continued. 
“These four schools represent the most vulnerable locations, Camberley High school, St Arthur's Sunbury, St Benedict's Roman Catholic school, Epsom and Weybridge Primary school” 
With that, the room cleared and everyone split up. The detective and the DCI went to one location, apparently Jack would join them on the way,  Gabby and Cloud went too another.  Thomas went out in a rush as well.  Amelia was sure that one of the schools mentioned was one that his daughter went too. 
Amelia stayed with Clarissa. 
“I hope i’m right” Clarissa sighed. 
Amelia stared off absently, picking at the nail on her thumb “Me too Clarissa, me too” 
******************************************************************************************************
There had been no shooting. Relief flooded through Amelia. Whatever the sniper had planned, it meant they had time to think of strategy.  Now they had a chance to get down to the real business. Jack had left Amelia and Clarissa the footage found in the cameras that were hidden in the smoke alarms. 
It has taken them both a couple of hours and quiet a few caramel latte’s but Amelia and Clarissa had managed to get through all the footage. Once it was all properly tagged and filed, the two woman called over the rest of the team. ‘Here we go’ Amelia thought. 
Amelia started to play the relevant footage once everyone had settled. 
“Footage from Martin and Shelia’s bedroom is a non - event … almost” Clarissa said
The laptop screen showed Martin getting out of bed in a hurry. 
“Look like he heard a noise. Suspecting burglar maybe ? “ Nikki asked. 
Amelia shook her head alongside Clarissa, “False alarm” 
“So he’s security conscious, Maybe a bit paranoid?”Thomas stated. 
Jack folded his arms from behind Amelia and Clarissa, “If he was security conscious he’d have the lights and cameras on the outside” 
Thomas frowned, “He doesn’t?”
Amelia shook her head” No he doesn’t” 
“So could this be about the enemy within, not the enemy without?”  Nikki asked. 
She was right, Amelia thought. With no outside cameras being present on the property, it would seem that there sole purpose  was to either manipulate through fear and control or to keep tabs on something. There was an evident theme of coercive control here but what was the connect to the sniper? 
Amelia realized she had zoned out for a second missing what Jack and Nikki had said. 
“No this is about control” Jack stated “This is about Martin Cross keeping tabs on his family while they slept.”
Amelia nodded, “I agree” Amelia clicked a few buttons on the keyboard bringing up the new footage, “This is Craig’s bedroom, we’ve seen nothing noteworthy so far.” She pointed at Craig on the screen, “The kid goes to bed, he goes to sleep and then he wakes up. As you can tell its riveting stuff” 
“Oh yes!” she continued, as Craig woke up and got out of bed “go on Clarissa you noticed this” 
 “Yes, I forgot to mention but Craig does press ups during the night” 
There was a silence for a second at the odd behavior. 
“He’s a lot stronger than he looks” Nikki commented 
“Martin Cross was about six foot, 190 pounds, there is no way Craig is a threat to him”
Thomas shook his head, “I don't get, whats this all about?”
No matter what angel they looked at it by, it just wasn't adding up. 
******************************************************************************************************************
After a long day, Amelia rubbed her eyes  She was now in a hall filled of people. Police meet ups were never really her thing, to be honest big meet up’s in general were never really her thing either. Yet being a apart of the forensic team on this case she needed to be present. 
Luckily she noticed Gabby within the crowd, a relief. Someone nice to talk too. The situation in itself was horrid, so it was lovely to see a friendly face. Of course she wasn’t calling Nikki and Jack unfriendly - God that would be rude, imagine if someone could read her mind - 
She stopped and took a deep breath and smiled at Gabby as she approached with Jack and Nikki. Big groups … man they messed with her mind. 
A man started speaking, he was Chief superintendent Robert Drake. He was in charge of the whole operation. He explained how thankful he was that everyone was here. But a man started to argue with him. She shook her head, these things never went well. 
“We’ve had over 300 possible sightings of the suspects “ Amelia blinked, reconsing Gabby’s voice. “None of them had stood up” 
Nikki was about to say something when the voice of Craig Cross interrupted there conversation, 
“Hello” He looked nervous, Amelia gave him a small smile from where she was standing between Gabby and Nikki.
Jack turned round, “Hey Craig” 
“Hi, Nikki” Nikki nodded. 
Craig smiled nervously at Nikki, “What do you do Nikki?” 
Almost taken back by the question, Nikki stated she was a pathologist. 
“So you cut up dead bodies for a living ?”
What a way of looking at it, Amelia thought. 
“Yeah, thats about the size of it” 
Amelia glazed around the room at all the people, she tugged a little at the sides of her top and then crossed her arms. Gabby had asked Craig something about his uncle, she wasn’t really paying attention. Her eyes hurt and her body ached. She needed to leave soon. 
She glanced back and Nikki was no longer next too her. She was talking to a man. 
“Are you okay Amelia?” Craig’s voice pulled her out of her head. 
“Huh? Sorry?” Amelia said as she looked at Craig. 
Craig crossed his arms, matching her body language. “You seem a little nervous?” 
Amelia let out a little laugh, “I’m okay Craig, just not too good in big groups. Too many people, too much going on” 
“Is the investigation going well? It seems you and Jack make a great forensic team!” Craig smiled … though the question was odd. 
“You know I cannot share that information with you Craig but thank you! We are a good team.” 
She glanced round and noticed that Jack had moved on as well. Damn, she was on her own. Little flashes of the past tried to fight there way into her mind. She focused her attention on Craig. 
“How are you feeling though Craig?” They kid shrugged, “ It’s hard to come to terms with … “ He trailed off. He looked away. 
There was a silence. She wasn’t good at this.  
“Do you want to go outside?” Amelia shrugged, “ Get some air?” 
Craig looked at her, eyes wide and a genuine smile beginning to form on his face. 
“Yeah please, this place is suffocating”, with that Amelia led the way. It may have been the lack of sleep but for a second she felt a pange of unease. 
******************************************************************************************************************
Nikki answered her phone, “ I can’t see him, I’ll call you back, thanks Thomas” 
Nikki rushed to Jacks side. “Where’s Craig?” 
Jack shrugged, “I don’t know? Last I saw he was with Amy? Why?” 
“The hidden camera shows bullets in his bedside drawer” Nikki stated urgently.
“What thats impossible” Jack said as they rushed into the hallway. 
“Why impossible?” Nikki countered. 
“First the quality of that footage is abysmal. Second he’s sixteen - where the hell would he get the bullets from?”
Nikki approached the door, letting out a sigh of relief noticing Amy next to the boy. 
“Lets find out” She said. 
Before Jack could say anything, Nikki pushed open the door.
“Amy there you are!, we are going to make a move” 
“Oh” Amelia’s eyes lit up, “ Okay no worries” She automatically reached for her car keys in her pocket. 
“It’s a shame about your car and that flat tire, you will have to jump in with me and Jack” She continued. 
… what? Amelia just stared at Nikki, confusion written all across her features. 
“Craig, let us give you a lift home as well” 
The kid nodded, “okay”
Nikki and Craig walked down the stairs  towards the car park, while Amelia followed very confused. 
What in the world got into Nikki? Her car was fine … before she could ask. Her phone beeped. 
Jack: The camera footage shows bullets in Craig’s bedside drawer, apparently we are investigating ????. 
She looked back at Jack in alarm. He shook his head and placed his hand on her back leading her out to the car park. 
The car pulled up outside Craigs house. Nikki (somehow) managed to get Craig to allow them to come into his house. 
The trio walked in behind Craig, the house felt strangely cold. As Amelia walked in the front room, she noticed the pictures of Craig hung on the wall.  They looked pretty normal, normal family photos but for some reason her vibes were telling her that this was not a normal family. 
Craig awkwardly stopped in the front room, while they all stood in silence. 
Jack walked round Nikki and began to sit in the arm chair that faced the TV. 
“Thats a nice-” 
“No, no! That's Dad’s chair!” Craig suddenly shouted in alarm. 
The group were concerned by this sudden reaction, Amelia raised an eyebrow at Jack. 
“Sorry”  Jack mumbled. 
“So, are you going to make us some tea?” Nikki pressed. 
Craig stood almost defensively in front of the kitchen,
“Sorry no milk” he said plainly.
Amelia could play this game, she stepped out from behind Nikki,
“Aw don’t worry kid, black tea is fine!” Amelia smiled at him. 
He shrugged, “No tea bag’s” 
Jack shook his head, “Don’t worry about it, we’ll be on our way” and with that Jack headed towards the door but Nikki wasn’t done. 
The pathologist turned around and took in the pictures that hung on the wall behind her. 
“You must have been very proud of your dad that day?” She mused while looking at the picture of Martin Cross .
“Of course I was?” Craig stated plainly. 
“Or did you just feel … frustration?” Nikki continued. Amelia watched Craig carefully as his eyes widened slightly, Jack shook his head. 
“Despair?” 
“What?” Craig asked agitated, stepping forward towards Nikki. 
Amelia stepped slightly in front of Nikki, directing the boys attention onto her. She didn't want Nikki to get hurt, plus she could handle a child  
She continued for Nikki “The gap between the man the world saw and the man he really was, was wider than ever. 
Craig looked at her with wide eyes, anger brewing within them. “I loved my dad!” 
“Amy!” Jack warned, he couldn’t believe she was helping Nikki with this. 
“So... why were you so scared just now when Jack tried to sit in his chair?” Amelia continued. 
Craig scoffed, “I wasn’t scared” …. “ I wasn’t scared” he began to walk straight at Amelia “and certainly-” 
Jack was suddenly behind Amelia, his hand stopping Craig from advancing any further while the other rested on the womans shoulder. 
He gazed down sternly at her, “We are leaving now, come on” 
With his hand still lingered on her shoulder as he guided her towards the door. An action that didn't go unnoticed. 
Suddenly there was a thumping and coughing from upstairs. 
Nikki being Nikki bolted straight for souce of  the noise, 
“No,no no! Your not going up there!” Craig followed swiftly behind, he pushed past Amelia and Jack ..  “No!” 
Once up the stairs, Craig rushed to Mrs Cross who was in the bathroom throwing up. He slammed the door shut, locking it. 
“Mrs Cross, can we help?” Nikki asked through the door. 
“No thanks!”
Nikki took this opportunity to enter Craigs bedroom, despite Jack's warnings. Jack followed her in. 
“Are you sure Mrs Cross, I will happily help you if you need it?” 
Amelia said through the door. 
There was no response but the sound of Mrs Cross’s coughing.
Amelia bit her lip, frantically glazing between the two doors. One investigation member in a room without a warrant was odd, two meant they intended to go into the room … three, well that suggests they were definitely up to no good. 
She kept her feet planted where she stood, the hallway was narrow. Mrs Cross coughed again and she could barely make out what Craig was mumbling to her. 
She could hear Jack and Nikki’s hushed whispers from the next room. Taking a deep breath she hovered her hand over the bathroom door one more time. 
“Craig is everythi-” 
The door unlocked and forcefully opened. Amelia managed to back up quick enough to avoid the door from hitting her in the face. Craig pushed past her forcefully and stormed into his room. 
“What are you doing?” she heard him say. Looking forward, Mrs Cross sat on the bathroom floor. She looked upset, so so upset. She slowly approached her. 
“Mrs Cross, hello” she gave her an awkward smile. Mrs Cross just stared at her, almost looking through her. “Just checking if you are okay? I can grab you some water?” 
She shook her head, standing up. “I need you to leave my house, you're not helping anyone from being here” she mumbled. 
Ouch!  She certainly didn’t expect that. 
She, too, walked straight past Amelia and into Craigs room. Seconds after the team were heading  out the door. 
The night was cold but she was sure that the house she just left felt colder. 
The following day, the team met to discuss the findings. 
Nikki pulled up the CCTV footage from the smoke alarms.
“Craig keeps a hunting knife in his wardrobe, that could explain why his dad felt the need to put a hidden camera in his room” Nikki confidently explained. 
Jack fidgeted from his chair. “I just - he’s 16. He’s at school, he can’t drive, he has no access to guns, nevermind taking a headshot at 200 yards”
Nikki shook her head, “Well obviously, if Craig is involved, he has an adult accomplice” 
Thomas leant forward, “meaning he wasn’t necessarily present at all the shootings” 
“That could be who he’s communicating with outside ?” Clarissa asked. 
Amelia crossed her arms, “If anyone needed a friend it’s Craig, especially these past months” 
The DCI looked towards her, “Why do you say that?”
She looked away for a second and then pointed towards Nikki, “Like Nikki is suggesting, it’s a classic cycle of violence, isn't it?” 
Nikki continued, “Dad misses out on a job that he’s wanted for years. So his aggression reaches a new low point and he breaks his own son’s arm. Craig turns to mum but years of learned helplessness and drinking stopped her intervening” 
Amelia nodded. “ Then his school work suffers, the kid won the chemistry prize three years running but not this year, his heart hardens. He decides he will never be a victim again.” 
“So he adopts the only avoidable strategy available to a child, he spends as little time at home as possible” 
Nikki continued, it seemed that the three woman were on the same wavelength. “And whatever emotional sustenance he got from his parents, he’s got to find from somewhere else” 
Amelia glanced over at Jack, he was pulling a face that screamed this is complete rubbish. 
Cloud interjected, “You mean someone else?”
Thomas nodded, “Two killers, explains why Martin’s death was so disorganized compared to the other victims”
Amelia stared off into the distance, she did this quiet often when she was beginning to find a case a little overwhelming. A buzz from her phone caught her attention. Jack eyed her from the other side of the room. 
“Sorry everyone, I’ve got to run some blood.” She glanced at Thomas, “It’s the Richard’s case, they have apparently are having trouble with there equipment” Thomas nodded and she quickly left the room shaking her head in annoyance. 
****************************************************************************************************************** 
Amelia sat at her desk, the Richards case was an independent job, taken by Thomas and passed to herself. A simple case. Man stabbed multiple times, yet the evidence collected by the forensic team of the department was very poor. The lyell had been asked to re run  evidence in case of any forced contamination. 
Amelia wanted to waste away. This was taking so long. She didn’t even know what the time was. 
Jack walked into the room, urgency in his steps. He headed straight for the door. Finally some excitement. 
“And where do you think your going Mr Hodgson?” She asked from across the room. Jack slowed down, glancing over his shoulder. “Cloud called, Craig wanted to speak with us” He smiled slightly and walked over to the coat rack. He picked up her coat. 
“Apparently Craig especially wanted to talk to you, so I was going to grab your coat” 
Ameila smiled. “Wow, quiet the gentleman you are Jack” He winked at her, causing a blush to form on her cheeks. She looked away from him and continued to type at her computer “Bold of you to assume I am not busy” 
Jack let out a chuckle, “You were playing Candy crush about ten minuets ago, I am pretty sure thats a tell tale sign your bored Amy” She looked up at him eyes wide in confusion, her face slowly turning red. How did her know that? 
Before she could even reply, he coat was shoved into her face. She let out sigh and snached it away from the irishman. Standing up she rose her eyebrows and poked him in the chest, “You better not tell Thomas” 
Jack smiled down at her and tapped his nose and with that they were off the police station. 
******************************************************************************************************************
The station was busy. Very busy. The two were guided to the room where Cloud and Craig were stationed. They had agreed in the car that Jack would do most of the talking and she was going to observe Craigs reactions. 
As they approached, Jack squeezed her shoulder as if sensing her nerves. She gave him a small smile. Jack pushed open the door, 
“Hey Craig” 
Craig looked at him uncertainty, “Hi Jack”, Amelia followed suit and as she walked into the room the boys eyes lit up, “H-hi Amelia” She gave the boy smile, 
“Hello Craig” She glanced around the room at Cloud, “We will be fine Jim” 
There was that silence again and Jim left the room. 
“So whats up “ Jack asked, Craig looked between the two. He obviously expected Ameila to ask. “Whats up?” he chuckled and then frowned, “Maybe …” He looked at Amelia, “Maybe I need to talk to someone”
Jack nodded as he continued, “I can’t burden my mum. She can’t cope as it is.” 
Amelia smiled at Craig, “It’s alright, lets talk” 
The universe had other plans though as the fire alarm suddenly blared through the room. 
 Amelia shook her head and  turned to Jack, “They always have such rubbish timing” 
“Typical” Jack said agitated. 
They made their way outside in a haste. Craig has gone with Gabby. Amelia trying to keep an eye on Craig, lost Jack in the hustle of people. Stepping out into the car park Amelia saw Gabby again. A friendly face was always comforting in a state of panic. 
“Gabby!” She turned and looked at Amelia and gave her a smile. “Sorry I was never that good at fire alarms, even at school” Amelia admitted bashfully as she continued to walk behind Gabby, stopping so she was facing the entrance to the police station. Not noticing the way Craigs eyes followed her movement. 
Jack had lost Amelia in the crowd, he glanced around trying to find her. 
 “Don’t worry” Craig said with a smile, he nodded towards a group of people a couple yards ahead of the two,  “She's there talking to Gabby” Jack saw her and let out a sigh of relief. 
 He looked at Craig and gave him a half smile “She’s not good with fire alarms or large groups of people apparently. ” He shook his head. 
DCI defrantas let out a small sigh from behind the two.
“Honestly I was the same, it was just a paper fire from the toilet so nothing to worry about” 
Jack nodded“That's a relief, do you know how long this will take?” 
“Not that long, maybe half an hour?” The woman replied, sounding tired. 
“That's okay then” Jack smiled “I was hoping to catch something for of lunch soon” Defrantas returned his smile. 
“Oh you know, busy days. My youngest has got this new nanny she just doesn’t get on. I just want to go home and sort it all out” 
While the DCI and forensic scientist spoke, Craig appeared behind Gabby. 
 Amelia moved to her left, eyeing him. Maybe it was paranoia from the fire alarm but he came out of no where. 
“Good to see you again Gabby!” He said with a smile.  He stood directly in front of Gabby, hands in his pocket. He looked towards Amelia and nodded “You too Amy!” 
Amelia knitted her eyebrows together, since when did he start calling her Amy? 
Gabby looked at Amelia in confusion.They shared the same look. Confusion. 
“Err thanks” “Nice to see you too Craig” 
There was a glint in his eye. “You look happy” 
Gabby opened her mouth to reply - 
 BANG!
That's all Amelia heard. Then the world seemed to move in slow motion. There was a crack and Amelia was struck by something wet. She blinked. Suddenly Gabby wasn’t standing. She had fallen forward onto craig. She wasn’t moving. Amelia looked at Craig as she took a step back. He had blood all over his face, Gabby's blood. Screams erupted all around, people began rushing into the station. She couldn’t process them properly, all she could hear was a loud ringing noise. Craig lowered Gabby’s body to the ground. Blood was splattered all over Gabby’s face. Amelia was frozen. Staring at Gabby’s body she couldn’t breath. Gabby was dead. 
Amelia brought a hand to her mouth and staggering back again, eyes widening. She felt herself fall backwards but a strong force yanked her forward. Jack. Jack had wrapped an arm around her shoulder and was dragging her to the police station. Defrantas was suddenly in front of her and she heard Jack shout at her. The words didn’t make sense, the ringing sound was too loud. 
She felt Jack's arm urgently pull her into the police station and once they were safely inside the building, he let go and she felt cold. In an effort to gain support she leaned against the nearest wall. The blood on her hands left a red stain as she moved. Her eyes were glued on her bloodstained hands but her thoughts were back with Gabby. 
To the other side of the room, Jack had grabbed Craig by the collar and shoved him into the wall. His knuckles were white as he refused to let him go. He looked the child dead in the eye. 
“Who is he?” Jack shouted, his voice trembling with anger “What do you know?” 
Not breaking eye contact Craig lent forward. A smirk formed on his lips. 
“We played you like a tune" he whispered,  Jack jolted, eyes wide. 
He watched Craigs smirk drop slightly as his eyes drifted over Jack's shoulder "shame Gabby got in the way" 
In the way? 
Craigs eyes met Jack's again. This time Craigs was filled with malice, smirk forming on his lips yet again. 
"Bullet was meant for her” he said plainly. 
Jack paused, confused at his words. His grip loosened slightly as he glanced over his shoulder. 
Amelia stood facing the wall, her breath was uneven as she continuously stared at the blood on her hands. She looked as if she was on the verge of a panic attack. 
Jack's eyes widened as Craigs words hit him at one hundred miles per hour.
 The bullet was meant to hit Amelia.
In a second Craig was pinned to the wall. 
 Jack was furious. 
 “Say that again!" He growled  "Say that again!” 
Craig screamed yet his eyes told a different story. Pride. He was proud of the destruction he had caused. In a second Jack was pushed away from the child. 
Amelia turnt at the commotion, the loud sound breaking her train of thought. Craig was freaking out. Suddenly he stopped moving. He had fainted. The way he had collapsed revealed the scars the littered his body. 
“Oh my god” 
“Jesus the scars” 
In an effort to help, the detectives picked Craig up and took him to another room to rest. 
Jack stood silently, hands twitching slightly as he watched the child in disgust. 
“J-Jack” A whimper broke him out of his trance and he turnt to see Amelia with her back against the wall. It had seemed that the shock was setting in. Her eyes were wide and glassy. Blood was  splattered on the left side of her face, it was all on her clothes, on her hands. 
 “Gabby” she croaked and quietly took a deep breath fighting the tears that were rising rapidly. 
Jack knelt down slowly, his hand brushing the stray hair out of Amelia's face and tucked them behind her ear. 
The action gained Amelia's attention, her eyes moved to Jacks and then the realizations of what had just happened hit her like a ton of bricks. 
Her hands started to shake. In fact her whole body began to shake. 
 “Oh my God, Gabby!” she breathed out, attempting to push past Jack. She had to get to Gabby, she was hurt … she, she was … dead. 
Jacks hands gripped her shoulders, she couldn’t tell if it was to keep her in the police station or to keep him from falling over. 
“Amelia,” he said sternly.  “Take a deep breath for me” Although his voice was stern his eyes were filled with emotion. 
She stared at him wide eyed, “We have to help Gabby” 
The more she kept Jack's eye contact, the more she couldn’t contain her emotions.
“We - W-we H-have to help ..” 
Tears began to stream down her face and Jack pulled her towards him and wrapped his arms around her. He rubbed her back. “It’s going to be alright,” He said.
Craigs words bounced around in his head. ‘The bullet was meant for her’
He hugged her a little tighter as his friend broke down in his arms. 
 “Everythings gonna be alright, Amy, I’m here.” He slowly rubbed her back “Your safe”
*************************************************************************************************************
 Jack walked into the Lyell. His mind raced and he gritted his teeth. Amelia has been sent home and wasn’t due back in for a couple of days. She was being treated for shock. Thomas had driven her home.
When he walked into the office,  Nikki was already in there watching the news. 
Word traveled fast. 
Sensing his arrival she glanced towards him. A sad smile on her lips. 
“Is Amelia out of hospital?” Nikki asked softly. Jack came to stand next to her, leaning against the table. 
“Yeah” he sighed, all emotion on his face had gone.  “Thomas drove her home a couple of hours ago, he said she fell asleep in the car. The shock must have tired her out”
“What even happened?” Nikki asked. She was facing him now. 
Jacks hands twitched. He looked away feeling the anger swell inside him and he gritted his teeth. 
“I saw everything you and Amy saw, I saw the poor, grieving kid he wanted me to see and fell for it” he tightened his fists. 
Jack looked up at Nikki who was taking in his words, “Gabby, she had two kids”  he took a deep breath and stood up. Walking into the middle of the room, he repeated the words Craig had said. 
“We played you like a tune." He quoted the boy venomously, he could almost laugh. " We played you like a tune” 
Nikki shook her head, remaining silent. 
“That wasn’t even it though, he said” Jack took a breath and gritted his teeth, these words were painful. 
“He sat there and watched Amelia break down in delight and told me the bullet was meant for her” 
Nikki’s eyes widened and she stepped forward towards him slightly “What? Are you saying planned to murder Ameila? ” A wave of nausea came over Nikki at the idea of loosing her friend. “Why her?” 
Jack was almost ready to explode. 
“I don’t know. That little prick, told me he was aiming at Amelia and he doesn’t even care that we know. He’s content with Gabby being collateral damage and openly threatens one of our own, certain that he’s going to walk away from it!”  Jack turnt round and hit the wall with his fist. 
There was a silence. He looked down unable to looked at Nikki. 
He leant against the book case and let out a breath.
 “Sorry”
*************************************************************************************************************
Amelia lay awake that night. She felt nothing. All she could see was Gabby’s body laying lifeless on the ground, a wave of nausea sent her flying to the bathroom. While in the bathroom she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Her skin was pale, hair a mess. She covered her face and looked back into the mirror. Her eyes burned and she bit her lips in an attempt to stop them from trembling. It was all too much to contain. She cried until she couldn’t cry no more.  
Jumping in the shower, she began to grow more and more angry. There was no way this bastard was going to get away with it. No way in hell that this was going to break her. By the time it was about half three, Amelia was on her third coffee and was prepared to take on the world. She was dressed in smart attire, her hair flowed over her shoulders. She was ready for war. 
Thomas walked in to the Lyell at his usual time of half seven. Surprisingly the lights were already on. He knitted his eyebrows together. Walking through the door, he was greeted with the sound of furious key board clicking. Cautiously, he turned the corner.
“Amelia?" He was in disbelief. He had literally dropped her home six hours ago. 
"Why on earth are you in so early,  In fact why are you here working at at all?” Amelia didn't look at him. Thomas sighed putting down his bag. He sounded like her father. 
"You've just been through a traumatic event Amelia, you need rest!" 
This statement  stopped Amelia from typing and she turned to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, she was pale. Yet her tone was sharp. 
“I don’t know what your taking about Thomas, there's work to be done." She stood up and gesture to the room around her "Murderers to prove guilty. Evidence to process… Kids to put in prison " she mumbled her last sentence. 
"We are the only people who are able to get those things done! Now if you will excuse me-" she grumbled
“What time have you been here since ?"
“Half four” she shrugged as she walked back in the direction of her computer. 
Thomas's face was a picture.  “Half what?” 
Realizing there was not a lot he could do, he reluctantly left her too it.
Nikki and Jacked walked through the door about an hour later. As soon as they saw Amelia they froze. The events of the last day flashed across his mind. They was she shook in his arms. He couldn't shake it. 
“Ameila ?” Nikki asked confused.  Amelia looked over at the pair, her face blank. She eyed them both and then continued to work. 
“What is gods name are you doing here?” Jack almost shouted as he walked towards her desk. “You’re meant to be at home recovering” 
Amelia pulled her lips into a fine line and exhaled through her nose. She rolled her eyes at nothing in particular and turned back to her computer.  
“Wow did I leave a record on? " she gasped sarcastically "Because I keep hearing the same things over and over ~" 
"Amelia!" 
With a frustrated sigh she spun round in her chair to face her friends, arms crossed over her chest.
“Guess what Jack? I went home and it didn’t really help. There's a sniper active and me laying in bed is not going to help" Jack and Nikki exchanged a look. 
"So I came here to do my job, any questions. No. Good !" 
She span back around and was about to start typing when Jack banged his hand onto the table in frustration. The action caused Amelia to flitch, her hands flew to her head and she look up at him eyes wide.  "What the hell Jack?" 
He stared down at her, regret forming in his eyes at his actions. He kept his voice steady. 
“You need to go home” he stated. The two held strong eye contact for a couple if seconds, Amelia looked away. 
“Mm no I don’t”
“Amy!” 
Amelia let out a frustrated sign and she pushed her chair back again. 
She walked passed him, making sure to bump his shoulder. She could not look Nikki in the eye either. 
“Thomas I’ll be back in a moment,  I’m going to get coffee” 
She swiftly walked out the door and was down the corridor. 
“Amelia!” God she hated when he called her by her full name. “Amelia!”
She stopped as his hand brushed her should her, motioning her body round to face him.  
Standing up she was shorter than Jack but that didn’t matter. 
Jack was about to say something but she cut him off.
“Look at me, I am alive!” Her voice was loud, she was pretty sure that the whole team could hear her. “Last night I came to the conclusion seven times that If I hadn't moved from the position I was in I would be dead.” She felt eyes start to swell ”The fact that I am standing here and Gabby isn’t, I can’t stop thinking about it and it makes me feel sick.” 
She took a breath and lowered her voice “I will make this bastard pay, so Gabby’s children can see some justice. He thinks he is so smart, well obviously he hasn’t dealt with me!” 
She ran a hand through her hair and stepped a couple steps backwards. “So I am going to get coffee, live my life to the fullest and we are going to send that kid to prison, so no one today is going to make me go home, do you understand!"
She turned away and walked out the door. Jack was left speechless. He nodded solemnly and returned to his desk. 
*************************************************************************************************************
When Ameila returned, she felt a tug in the pit of her stomach. The team were only trying to look out for her. She pushed open the door, coffee in her other hand. Everyone seemed to be acting normal. Nikki was typing away at her computer, Jack seemed to be analyzing some evidence, Thomas sat in his office and Clarissa was working away as per usual. 
She attempted a b-line straight to her desk yet after two steps she stopped and turned towards Nikki, Jack and Clarissa. She gently placed her coffee cup on a coaster on Nikki’s desk and smiled awkwardly at the trio. Nikki gently turned round and smiled at her. It was the type of smile that made her want to shrink into the ground. There was pity in her eyes but also understanding. Of course she had heard of the stories of events Nikki had been through while working throughout her career. She just needed to apologize.
“You alright Amy?” She asked concern lacing her voice. Alright wasn’t a word she could use how to describe how she felt yet she nodded, lips pulled into a fine line. She could bring herself to directly look at her as the flashes of memories plagued her brain. She licked her lips and took a breath. 
“I-I … I’m sorry. The way I acted earlier was completely unprofessional” She looked over at Jack, “You guys have been through a lot, you don’t need me shouting at you.” She considered her next words carefully. 
“I’ve seen death … i’ve just never danced with it before” Her eyes began to glass over.
“I just wanted to say that-” 
“Amelia Rowelle what on earth are you apologizing for?” 
She looked up at Clarissa, eyebrows furrowed, watching the woman shake her head.”Your emotions make you human and your just experiencing a lot right now. Darling take your time and we will get this kid” Clarissa gave her a warm smile. 
Nikki stood up and embraced her in her arms. Her hug was tight, almost as if she were afraid that she would disappear at any moment. 
“Yeah” Ameila mumbled into Nikki’s shoulder. She glanced over at Jack who winked at her, a small smile on his lips. 
“Lets get him” 
*************************************************************************************************************
Amelia spent the next couple of hours watching video footage of CCTV, attempting to place Craig at the right place, at the right time. Yet nothing was coming out of it. 
She yawned, stretching her arms. It was 12.30pm. She had been awake since 1.30am, now the tiredness was getting to her. 
She Logged off her computer. She said her goodbyes to the team and headed home for the day. 
Her drive home was swift. By the time she blinked her key was in the door and she was safe. With the door slammed shut behind her she slowly sunk to the floor. She pressed the back of her head on the door and inhaled a shaky breath. Tears raced down her cheeks and she struggled to control her sobs. Flashes of Gabby’s face appeared in her mind. Her smile gone, her face covered in blood. Craigs face flashed in her mind for a second and thats all it took. Her fist slammed against the door behind her. 
The sound echoed through her house. It sounded just as she felt. Empty. 
*************************************************************************************************************
Later that night, Amelia sat on her sofa. She hadn’t really eaten, she felt exhausted but her body refused to sleep. A buzz from her phone broke her out of her thoughts. 
NIKKI :) 
She watched the phone ring for a couple of seconds, picking up the phone in a haze. 
“Evening Nikki” She spoke softly. Her voice sounded croaky. 
“Amy, hello. I need a favor” Nikki’s warmly said. “Come open the door” 
The door? 
“Wait? Are you outside my house?” She asked with her eyebrows furrowed. 
Nikki laughed at the end of the line. 
“Surprise? Hey Ja-” 
“Hurray up its cold!” Jack whined. 
“Jack your here too?” A grin grew on her face. 
“Of course” He paused, “We are here under Clarissa’s instructions, since she said your her favourite. She was very clear we had to check up on you” Her eyes widened slightly in surprise and she let out a laugh and ended the call.
She headed for the door, opening it slowly.  Before her stood Nikki and Jack. Nikki held a bag of chinese. 
“Hungry?” She beamed and walked past her to the kitchen” 
Jack followed, Shaking his head complaining how she had just hung up on him. He slowly came to a halt half way down the hall way as she locked the door. 
He turned to face her and she looked up at him in confusion. His jokey persona replaced with a more serious vibe. Before she knew it he pulled her into a big hug. He held her tightly, placing his chin on the top of her head. 
Amelia blushed at the sudden action, slowly she returned the hug. Her face was pressed against his chest. They stood there for a couple seconds in their embrace.  It was comforting.
“We got him” 
Eyes widening, She took in his words. They had got him to confess. There was justice for Gabby!
She stepped back. Her hands resting on his chest as she Looked up at him. She took in his smile and the glimmer in his eyes. He looked proud.  
“Good” she spoke and pulled him back into a hug and he chuckled.  
From the kitchen Nikki watched the two with a smile. She knew that for them their story was just beginning. She couldn't wait to see what the future held.
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artttho · 4 years
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some assistant faces
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daisybeewrites · 3 years
Text
Academy Blues
sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes to bag punches you
word count: 4.5k
warnings: none. heavy handed use of italics
ship: Dousy (Daniel Sousa/Daisy Johnson), background Fitzsimmons and Philinda
ahaha.. and the fun begins (the cryptic-ness is for a reason i promise)
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“Ow!!” Daisy exclaimed. This was the second time today she had gotten distracted and let the punching bag swing into her. Sans Bobbi or Mack, her usual workout partners, there was no one to hold the bag still while she was pummeling it. Her side of the gym was entirely void of people, most opting to use the treadmills or other cardio machines lining the wall of large windows that faced the forest to the south, or stick to circuits on the resistance machines throughout the middle of the gym. The universe seemed to be telling her to get in some boxing, so she walked over to the bag with the intention of punching until her arms hurt.
Now her nose hurts, too.
“You need a spot?” May asked, silently crossing the padded floor to Daisy.
She nodded. Waiting for May to get into position, Daisy stretched out her arms over her head and across her body, twisting her torso to feel her abs stretch. When May gave her a thumbs up, Daisy started to punch the heavy bag again, this time with a little more force now that she knew it wouldn’t fly back and hit her in the face.
“Something on your mind?”
“No,” Daisy grunted. “Just slacked off the last few weeks. With everyone gone on break there wasn’t as much of... everything, I guess, to keep me in a routine.”
May nodded. “Breaks can be tough. No classes, schedule disrupted, more free time than you know what to do with. I get it. If you ever want a time-filler, text and I’ll be there.”
Daisy nodded, going back to silently punching. The breaks weren’t all bad. They only happened eight times a year, five two-week breaks and three three-week breaks. Enough time that those with families and lives outside of SHIELD could visit and vacation, but not fall behind. Plus, it gave Daisy the campus pretty much to herself. Only about forty students stayed at The Academy over breaks, and it seemed to decrease every time.
Another good thing about breaks was that Daisy got to know more people personally. Whether it was how the tall, fifth-year red head took her morning coffee or that the new group of first-years liked to run the same trails through the forest as she did. So, when an entirely new face had cropped up out of nowhere, Daisy was intrigued. He walked with a limp, had nice hair and kind eyes. She didn’t recognize him, and despite the fact that he had arrived the same day as the rest of the first-years, he was definitely the oldest of the pack. That was unusual, Daisy had thought, SHIELD almost always recruits directly out of high school or college. The last time anyone over the age of twenty-five had been accepted to the Academy was when Daisy herself had started. However, that was a bit of a… special situation.
Every morning, New Guy crossed through the computer lab and waved, smiling confidently at Daisy. His sudden appearance and amicable interactions confused her. Classes weren’t in session, but he always had a backpack with him. Maybe he had tutoring with one of the professors? A new student trying to catch up before the term even began — an enigma.
Once classes had started, he still came by everyday. Daisy liked to think it was because he wanted to see her. They had never spoken more than tired greetings to each other, and yet Daisy felt herself pulled towards him. She shook off the thought. It made her skin crawl, thinking about the last time she felt such a magnetic attraction to someone.
She realized May was studying her through the mirrors lining the wall next to the row of punching bags. She cleared her throat and asked, “Is my form okay?”
May gave her a long look that clearly said, ‘You know that your form is fine.’
Daisy pulled her eyes away from May’s stare, announcing, “I’m going to fill up my water, do you need any?”
May shook her head, pulling out her phone.
Daisy bent down to grab her water and headed to the back of the gym, towards the locker rooms. A couple of reusable bottle-filler stations were stuck into the wall, right next to the PT rooms. Daisy couldn’t help but peer into the closest one as she listened to the sound of water streaming into her bottle. It was filled with floor ladders, yoga balls, sports med supplies... New Guy. Huh.
Wondering why he would be sitting in a dark PT room by himself, Daisy took a swig of her water before continuing to fill it up. He hopped off the table as the lights came on, a young doctor-type walking in a smiling. She was reminded of his limp when he walked towards her, shaking her hand and flashing a large smile. Cute, Daisy noticed. Wait, no, what?
Daisy promptly turned and headed back to the wall of mirrors, choosing to ignore the smirk on May’s face.
“Ready?” Daisy asked.
“Actually,” May began, “Why don’t we get in some sparring? You’ve been at this for over an hour.”
Daisy caught the glance May threw at the half-assed wraps on her hands and nodded. With only a few jitters, Daisy quickly helped May unroll the sparring mats onto the floor. Daisy had only sparred with Yo-Yo since she got back from Columbia visiting her cousin. Sparring with May was an entirely different level.
After some warm-up drills, May silently took charge and got into a fighting stance. Daisy rose up on her tip-toes, then rocked backwards. The grey padding beneath her looked a lot softer than it felt while being slammed onto it. A quick lunge from Daisy and a swift deflection by May, and the two women were off.
Across the gym, Daniel Sousa and the doctor were chatting, watching Daisy and May.
“They look like they’re barely breaking a sweat,” Daniel commented after May leaped off Daisy’s leg, flipping forwards and attempting to grab Daisy around the shoulders. Daisy rolled backward, throwing May over her and getting to her feet as the shorter woman jumped up into a wide stance.
“You’ll get back to that level,” The physical therapist assured him.
Daniel shook his head. “Maybe. I hope so. If not, I’m a damn good shot, anyway.”
The doctor chuckled before motioning back to the PT room. “C’mon, you still have thirty minutes stuck with me before I release you from daily therapy.”
“It’s only been three weeks?” Daniel questioned, confused. They walked through a black door to a small room. Grey cabinets on one side, a black table on the other, physical therapy tools lined up in organized sections.
“Most of which was just assessing you. You already know the exercises and stretches, and you completed the physical therapy recommended by your primary care physician before you came to us. You have the strength mostly back in your residual limb, at least to the point where sparring shouldn’t do any damage. I still expect you to show up at least twice a week. Especially since you’re starting field training with May.”
He smiled. “How do you know about that?”
“I have access to your file, Sousa,” She reminded him, “I also know you were late to her class on the first day. Not a smart move, in my opinion.”
Daniel cringed at the memory of heads turning his way, watching him limp to the only open seat in the very front. May’s comment— “Thoughtful of you to join us, Agent Sousa,” —still turned his face a slightly embarrassing shade of red when he thought about it.
Noticing his uncomfortable silence, the physical therapist put on a sympathetic face. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. I was late to my first class, too. Professor Martin, advanced physiology. Granted, I was seventeen...”
Daniel playfully glared at her.
“...but I suppose that’s no excuse. Let’s get started.”
The rest of the day went by without Daisy or Daniel seeing much of each other besides a fleeting glimpse while changing classes. Not that they were looking for the other, or anything.
A few hours later, before dinner, Daisy was sitting on the counter in the girls’ dorm bathroom, watching Jemma curl her hair.
Jemma Simmons was one of the only people she immediately loved at SHIELD, and the first person she had trusted on Coulson’s team. Over the course of a couple months, they became closer than Daisy had ever been with anyone, spending almost every waking moment together. Over time, Daisy had grown to love the rest of the team, too, learning that they had also been hand picked by Coulson. Though, technically, Daisy hadn’t been chosen for the team. She was picked up as a consultant. But it didn’t matter, as the ragtag team had quickly been disbanded.
Knives shoved into your back can have that effect.
After the end of the team, Code-named Bus Kids, Daisy, Fitzsimmons, Tripp, and May and Coulson had come to the Academy to continue working with SHIELD. Daisy and Tripp were assigned as partners in their ops training, Fitzsimmons were partners in the lab, and May and Coulson still checked on them as if nothing had changed.
But people get busy, and it had been awhile since Jemma and Daisy had properly talked to each other.
“Does the bruise on my nose look like it’ll go away any time soon?”
Jemma glanced up through the mirror, shrugging. “It should. What did you do to it?”
Daisy fiddled with her hands, only answering when Jemma turned to face her fully.
“I kinda, uhm, got punched...”
The stern look Jemma gave Daisy quickly melted into laughter as the brunette added, “...by a punching bag.”
Reaching up to turn Daisy’s face towards the fluorescent bathroom lighting, Jemma gently ran a finger along the angry red splotch on the top of Daisy’s nose. She jerked her head a bit, wincing at the contact.
“You should be fine, I’ll grab some of the good anti-inflammatory meds from the medical storage.”
Daisy thanked her, hopping off the counter to grab an eyeliner pen. “So, how is Fitz? Is this a real date night or are you guys ‘just hanging out’?”
Jemma smiled at his name and rubbed her neck. Daisy smiled back at the subconscious reaction.
“You two are so meant for each other,” She teased.
Jemma tilted her face up towards Daisy, allowing her to start applying eyeliner.
“He hasn’t really defined it. We’re ‘going out’, but we aren’t dating.”
Daisy finished the subtle cat eye, shaking her head. When would he learn that Jemma would only believe they were together if he said, ‘Hey, Jems, I’m completely and totally in love with you and I want you and I to live happily ever after!’
Daisy watched Jemma inspect herself in the mirror, touching up her mascara.
“You look amazing. He’s a fool if he doesn’t see it,” Daisy assured.
Jemma smiled. Her Sheffield accent had gotten thicker over break, Daisy noticed, as Jemma responded, “He does, I know he does. We both just have trouble, you know? Voicing our thoughts and feelings.”
Daisy definitely knew…
“Well, he could do with a good reminder sometimes. If y’all are going to keep going on these not-dates, you might as well show him what he’s missing by staying just friends!”
Jemma laughed, smiling gratefully. She took one final look in the mirror, swishing her knee-length royal blue dress and fluffing her hair. “Okay, well, off I go. Have a good night, Daisy.”
Daisy gave her a thumbs up and went to watch out her window as Fitz handed Jemma a hand-picked bouquet of (slightly squished) wildflowers and took her arm to lead her to the parking lot.
Daisy sighed and turned away from the gold and pink sunset. She opened her personal laptop, immediately bombarded by three windows running programs. One was running an innocent algorithm to clean all the useless, unused files from her computer, one was a simulation that could (hypothetically, no harm no foul) hack the Pentagon, and another was trying to find video and audio feed from Los Angeles, four months ago.
Daisy’s gaze lingered on the last one, not expecting anything new. She sighed and picked up her laptop, deciding to go visit Mack in the garage. It was only seven on a Friday, he’d probably be there working on the run-down, close to falling apart Harley he had bought off an old friend for $200. Mack had been working on it for months. Daisy wasn’t even sure it had half its original parts.
A short trip across the grounds and a trek over a winding path cut through a field of thick tallgrass later, Daisy arrived at the garage.
The monstrous steel and concrete building was like a plane hangar and mechanics lab forged into one. Workstations around the edge were strewn with tools, motors, and half-finished pieces of tech. Shining black SHIELD vehicles and even two quinjets sat in the middle, outlined by rectangular blocks of tape and paint. Catwalks crossed the upper level so that mechanics could reach the tops of planes when necessary, though SHIELD planes hardly ever came to The Academy unless they were being used for a lesson.
Daisy followed the sounds of tinkering and the quietly moving shadows to Mack’s workstation. She carefully leaned against a nearby SHIELD van, not wanting to interrupt his work.
Now, to say that Mack wasn’t easily frightened was an understatement. Daisy had hardly ever seen the muscled giant of a man so much as jump. Ever since discovering this, Daisy had taken every opportunity to try to scare Mack. It was not going great.
Daisy pulled out her phone, silently thumbing through emails and checking Instagram. She was about to walk over and tap him on the shoulder when Mack turned around and screamed.
Clutching his chest, Mack exclaimed, “Tremors, what the hell?!”
“I just wanted to come check in,” Daisy giggled, happy that she had finally snuck up on Mack.
Mack stood with his hands on his hips, smiling wide, before cocking one thick eyebrow and gesturing at her face.
“What happened to your nose?”
“Punching bag won this morning,” She shrugged.
Mack shook his head, laughing in a deep rumble. “You wanna help me with this?” He asked, pointing to the small device on his desk.
She didn’t answer, just reached out to take a small screwdriver from Mack’s very large hand. He showed her how to twist it to create leverage without it slipping while he messed with some wires, and eventually he seemed satisfied.
“Have you eaten dinner?” Mack asked casually.
Daisy nodded, her grumbling stomach betraying her.
Mack eyed her up and down. “Sure. Well, I’m hungry, so let's get something to eat and then we can take the bikes out.”
Daisy liked the feeling of being on a bike, the wind in her hair and steady vibrations from the engine soothing her ever-present headache. Ever since this revelation, if Mack went out on his motorcycle, he invited Daisy to ride with him.
At first, Daisy had been skeptical. What was so great about a two-wheel speeding death trap? One of her best friends had driven a gleaming 1969 Dodge Charger, and she had enjoyed riding with the windows down, but it still wasn’t the absolute best experience of her life, like most motorcyclists claimed a ride could be. However, once Daisy had finally taken Mack up on his offer, she was never hesitant to accept another invitation.
In the canteen, Mack piled a plate high with salad ingredients and baked spaghetti, scooping some off into a bowl for Daisy once he got back to the table. She took a fork and picked at it, chewing the crisp lettuce slowly.
Once they were both finished, Mack put his plate and utensils on the circling dish belt. He let Daisy lead the way back to the garage. She immediately grabbed two helmets and Mack’s gloves.
“That leather jacket gonna be enough to keep you warm? I have a couple old flannels in my bag if you want one.” Mack offered.
Daisy picked at a loose thread on the worn black jacket, nodding and throwing a ‘Thanks’ over her shoulder. She quickly rifled through his duffel bag, pulling out a faded black and blue flannel and shrugging it on under her jacket.
Mack mounted his black and silver bike, Daisy choosing a smaller SHIELD one. She kicked the kickstand back with her foot, finding her balance. She followed Mack as he revved the engine and took off out of the garage. Daisy heard him speak into the helmet’s mic.
“I upgraded the bikes, bigger tires and a better visor. It’s more efficient. Plus, when I’m out on the highway, cars don’t push me around.”
Daisy gave him a thumbs up, focusing on the feeling of air flowing around her. She sped up as she reached the road. She felt as if she was flying high into the air, fighting the laws of physics. On the back roads surrounding the Academy, as familiar as the back of her hand, Daisy relaxed and let herself fall into autopilot.
She heard Mack in her ear, still talking about the bike. She had heard it all before, but there was something centering about listening to Mack retell the evolution of his bike for the hundredth time, like a kid who begged to hear the same bedtime story every night.
It was freeing, speeding down a deserted road on the bike, stars above and pavement below. Pine trees reached for the sky on each side of her. Shrubbery and grass waved to Mack and Daisy as they raced forward.
A slight burn pricked her eyes that she knew wasn’t from the wind. Daisy needed this after a stressful first couple weeks back in class. To be honest, it was what she needed all the time. Daisy was exhausted. Her powers may not be visible, but they were always on, always bouncing around her body. Times like these, though, Daisy felt free. Releasing the constant grip she had on her self-control, she let the vibrations of the engine flow through her. Slowly, surely, Daisy let her guard down. A whispering warble crept into her ears over the wind. She could feel the way the pavement below and the humid late-August air around her absorbed the miniscule quakes, bouncing lightly off the tall trees like a quiet laugh reflecting off the walls of an echo-chamber.
About an hour later, Daisy and Mack were rolling back into the garage. Daisy couldn’t hide the slight redness in her eyes, but the smile on her face told Mack he didn’t need to worry. The pair silently did maintenance on the motorcycles, re-fueling them for later use and checking for any loose parts on Daisy’s.
Daisy headed back to campus, refusing Mack’s offer to walk her back to the dorms. She would be fine on her own. Besides, Jems might be back by now, she could ask about Fitzsimmons’ date. Or she could wait until breakfast tomorrow and tease them both.
Daisy stopped in her tracks. Out of the corner of her eye, a shadow slipped behind a building. Daisy felt her back tense, her hands curling into fists.
Any remainder of twilight light had faded while Mack and Daisy maintenanced the bikes. Daisy couldn’t imagine that any of the trainees that went to parties at the nearby universities were back yet, but no student in their right mind would want to simply walk around the dark campus of the Academy.
She kept walking, more alert. No sounds apart from her steady breathing and the rustle of grass beneath her feet reached her ears. She walked slowly toward where the shadow had disappeared. It looked as if it was headed to the biochem building. Daisy raised her hands, quietly running towards the white building, slightly crouched. She circled it once, twice, before deciding she had been imagining things, the shadow was only a trick of the light. It seemed so real though, so solid…
Daisy shook her head and crossed the courtyard, heading towards the dorms. It was late, and she had important things to do tomorrow. She was probably just tired from her ride with Mack.
Behind her, unnoticed by Daisy, the shadow quickly crossed the field behind the biochem building, slinking into the tallgrass.
The next day, Daisy woke to the sound of her alarm blaring 90’s RnB at six thirty AM, sharp. She quickly shut it off and stared at the ceiling for a moment before groaning and dragging herself out of bed. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night after her encounter with the shadow.
The sun was slowly ascending in the sky, golden light filtering into her windows. It was early, but she didn’t have the energy to go workout. Instead, Daisy stretched on her bed and sent a quick text to Jemma asking to meet up later to gossip about her date.
She grabbed shorts and a cropped sweatshirt, quickly dressing and making her way to the bathroom. She clipped her hair back, brushed her teeth, washed her face and headed back to her room. Trying her best to cover the bruise that had turned from red-violet to a blue-ish tinted black, she did minimal makeup. It’s not like it could get any worse, she thought bitterly. The concealer wasn’t much use.
Deciding to ignore the bruise, Daisy stood up, grabbed her backpack with her personal laptop and journal and headed to the canteen.
There weren’t many students around campus this early in the morning. Most were either asleep or nursing a hangover in their dorms. A few dedicated trainees were scattered amongst the different buildings, either in the gym or studying on their favourite bench. Daisy made a beeline for the canteen, hoping that no one had drank all the fresh coffee yet.
She slipped through the doors, sending small smiles to the students she made eye-contact with, faltering when her roving gaze reached a set of twinkling eyes the color of coffee. Maybe, she thought, I should go over and talk to him. What’s the worst that can happen?
She quickly poured herself a cup of coffee and grabbed a cinnamon raisin bagel from the pastry cart. Checking to be sure he wasn’t sitting with anyone (she wouldn’t want to intrude), Daisy walked around to the back of the large room, sitting in a spot diagonal from him.
After a few minutes of silence where Daisy ate her bagel and pretended not to feel his eyes on her, she turned and faced him.
“Good morning,” she said.
He dipped his head and raised his paper cup of coffee at the same time in response.
Does he not want to talk to me? Daisy questioned herself. She tried again. “So, is the coffee good?” He glanced at her cup that she had been sipping. Daisy recovered, “You know, in your opinion. I love the coffee here, the slightly burned aftertaste goes well with cream and sugar.΅
To her relief, he smiled. “Yeah, it’s good. I don’t usually use cream or sugar.”
Daisy raised her eyebrows, impressed. “Ah, more of a bare necessities, no-nonsense guy?”
His nose scrunched a little in thought, as if he was assessing his entire personality to see if it aligned with Daisy’s coffee psychology. He nodded finally, elaborating, “I was in the army. Most of us drank it black while deployed. I never got out of the habit. But, to answer your question, I like to think of myself as low maintenance.”
He sent her a small smile that had her insides melting just a bit. Daisy hid behind the rim of her coffee cup, trying to think of a response. Luckily, New Guy saved her.
“How do you drink your coffee?”
Daisy lowered her own paper cup, clearing her throat. “One half and half, just a bit of sugar. If I’m super tired I’ll add more.”
“So you probably adapt easily and have a deep hunger for answers to all your questions?”
Daisy’s eyes quickly flicked down to her coffee, wondering if her coffee order really exposed that much about her. Daniel laughed, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “I’m kidding. I noticed how you’re always in the computer lab before class, and Yo-Yo told me that you use that time to research.”
Daisy felt a blush creep up her neck. Yo-Yo knew New Guy? And gave him information about her schedule?
Daniel quickly explained, “We see each other in the halls a lot. And we have a class together. She noticed me in the lab and thought I knew you.”
Daisy relaxed. Yo-Yo had become increasingly more friendly to strangers the longer she spent at the Academy.
“I remember the first time I met her. She was so angry that SHIELD had stopped her from exposing the police in her city as corrupt. Our team was sent in to help her finish what she had started, destroy weapons and take down the corrupt members of the department. It was fun,” She chuckled.
Daniel watched her through his thin clear-frame glasses. She winced a little as her nose scrunched with laughter, recalling another story about a mission gone awry that Yo-Yo saved.
“How did you get that bruise?”
“What?”
He pointed to the spot on his face that mirrored the position of the bruise on hers. “The bruise. It looks like it hurts.”
Daisy shrugged, “Not as badly as getting shot. But you know, sometimes you punch the bag, sometimes the bag punches you.”
Despite the playful nature of the statement, Daniel couldn’t help but hear alarm bells in the back of his mind. She had been shot?!
Daisy noticed the change in Daniel’s demeanor and switched tactics, “It’s just a bruise. I wasn’t paying attention and the punching bag flew back and hit me in the face.”
Daniel laughed, becoming more and more intrigued with the enigma sitting across from him. Well, at least this enigma was beautiful, even if she had lost a fight to a punching bag.
A look of pure confusion overtook Daisy’s features. “Excuse me?”
Daniel’s face flushed bright red. He said that out loud. Daisy was still smiling though, Daniel let out a nervous chuckle. The two lapsed into an awkward silence. Daisy was finishing her bagel when he spoke up again.
“It was good talking to you,” he said softly.
Daisy’s eyes wandered his face with an unreadable expression. “Yeah, it was.”
He resisted the urge to offer to walk Daisy to wherever she was going as she headed out of the doors of the canteen, coffee with one half and half and pinch of sugar in hand.
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hi hellooo! whatd you think? comments and notes are appreciated! (will go back and edit this later, for now i sleep)
tag list: @jaanulore
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stephthenewgirl · 3 years
Text
AGTAW — I: Twila Gilbert
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“Twila, did you take my dark blue leather jacket?!” Elena Gilbert strides into her sister's bedroom without a simple thing as a kick. She halts upon laying her doe brown eyes on her sister; her mouth parted and her thin brows furrowing. There her sister stood in only a bra and panties but that's not what shocked her, it was the fact that Twila was in her underwear with a boy in her room. He sat at the edge of her queen-sized bed that was covered in gray and black sheets and heavy blankets. His elbows pressing down on his lap and his back hunched over. His deep brown eyes moved to the elder Gilbert twin.
The later twin — Twila — with celerity wheeled her body around, her large hazel brown eyes aimed at her sister sharply. Her body hiding the boy behind her midway. And the somewhat naked girl's medium brown hair that fell into a sepia reddish-brown moved sweetly and nimbly stroke her neck. A rainbow stripe shirt held between her fingers — a shirt she was about to put on before Elena intruded her bedroom.
Twila briskly put the rainbow shirt on, after she tugged the shirt down, stretching out slight folds on the fabric and she stomped her way towards the elder Gilbert. Elena's doe eyes stayed fixed on the boy that sits peacefully on her little sister's bed. She disliked this — and she disliked it even more that the boy who looked so peaceful and unbothered had no shirt on.
Why doesn't he have a shirt on? Elena query herself.
“Don't you know how to kick?” Twila asked heatedly. Elena's eyes fluttered to the younger twin.
“I-I. . .” The words just wouldn't come out. Her eyes wandered to the boy on her sister's bed. Elena wanted to say ''no boys allowed in the bedroom'', she wanted to ask why Twila had no clothing on and why was he shirtless, what was happening. Elena gasped as the boy known as Clarkson sent a wink to her then frowned.
Twila pushed Elena out of her room, slamming the door in her face.
“No boys in the room, Twila!” Elena finally found her voice.
“You're not my fucking mother, Elena!!” Twila waits to hear the footsteps of her sister walking away. It did not take long. Today, Elena had no energy to lecture her. Twila was grateful. She twirled back around, walking towards the end of her bed.
“Will, that was a show.” Clarkson Forsyth spoke, a lopsided smirk on his soft pink lips. Twila mocked smiled at the boy, picked up his black tee off her bed then threw it at him, hitting his face.
“Yeah, you would think that.” Their giggles bounded off the four walls. “Hurry up. Martin and Vera are picking us up in sixteen.” Twila told the boy as she made her way into her closet and yanked a pair of pants off the hanger.
“So should I hop out the window and wait for you outside?” Clarkson said, standing from the bed, the black shirt in his hold as he goes. He flipped the shirt over and slid his arms in the sleeves then pulled the shirt over his head and pulled it down over his body. Twila stepped out of the closet wearing dark blue loose jeans and held two pairs of black sneakers in her hand. She walked towards her bed, displaying a frown on her face.
“What? No.” Twila sits down at the end of her bed and pulls out the socks she tucked into her sneakers. “I'm fucking hungry, and I know you are too.” Twila slipped the sneakers on her feet and tied them up.
“I just don't want to start—” Clarkson started, taking small steps towards the Gilbert girl.
“Clark, you've been my best friend since kindergarten. My family knows you and Aunt Jenna is cool, and she likes you. You're not going to start anything. . .” Once she finished tying her shoelaces, Twila looked over to the obsidian hair strong-jawed boy. “. . . Okay.”
Clarkson chortle. “Yeah, okay.”
Twila nods slightly with a smile. “Okay.” She pushed herself off the bed. “Don't mind Elena, she's just being a prude. Elena's been all big-sister ever since mom and dad passed. The girl is only four minutes older than me but that is a mile for her.”
Clarkson cracks a tiny smile. “How are you feeling, anyway?”
Twila was quiet for a second, thinking of what to say. She looked up at her best friend and greeted him with a sad smile.
“Getting better. Can't do anything but get better. The world goes on.” Twila gives him a longer smile that forcefully reaches her cheeks. Clarkson pulls her into a hug. It took a while for Twila to react back, but she did; wrapping her arms around him tightly.
“Thanks — for being here for me. I didn't know what I would have done without you last night.”
It was late at night when the boy called, gasping with sobs and in need of his best friend. Twila immediately told him to come over. She sat up on her bed and rubbed her sleep away, awaiting his arrival. Finally arriving at the Gilbert home, Twila hugged him and listened to his recent problems with his father as he cried on her shoulder. Twila did not mind — Clarkson was there for her when her parents passed; even invited her to crash in his room when she did not feel like being at Caroline's. After his tears dried out, they watched Buffy together on her baby-blue-covered laptop — forgetting about the sadness as they laughed away.
“Of course, Clark. I will always be here for you.” Twila pulled from the hug, her hands clasping his biceps tenderly then she gave him a fast smile. “Now get off of me,” She pushed him jocosely. “C'mon, I'm starved.” Clarkson chortled with a head shake; the two grab their belongings and head downstairs.
Twila and Clarkson dumped their belongings on the sofa before passing the threshold into the kitchen. The gold sunlight streamed through the square window; the silhouette of the window slept on the kitchen Island and kissed Jeremy's naked arm.
“Good morning, Gilbert family!!.” Twila smiled wide at her family that was diffuse around the kitchen area.
“Morning, Twila,” Aunt Jenna says softly, tipping her head back from the refrigerator door, welcoming Twila back with a duplicate smile. Her eyesight moved to the boy beside her niece. “Oh, hey Clark. I didn't know you were here.”
“Yeah, I hope you don't mind. Just needed my best friend last night.”
“Oh, nonsense,” Jenna waves him off. “You are welcome anytime. Would you like some toast?”
Twila's eyes instantly widened, jerking her head from side to side, “Oh, no. I'm making waffles. Don't need you having us eating rocks, Aunt Jenna.”
“Not rocks, Twila. Just burnt toast.” The kitchen erupted with laughter for everyone's lips — even Jeremy's. The boy who had been in the dump all summer, spending his time with Vicki Donovan and drug heads. Both Gilbert twins were happy to hear him laugh again; they haven't heard it in a while. Elena shook her head in the corner with a smile and a mug in her hands. After, she pulled it closer to her lips, taking a sip. “Who needs lunch money?”
“Here!” Both Twila and Jeremy raised their hands, shouting.
“Elena?” Jenna walked to her bag that sits on the chair at the dinner table.
“No thanks, Aunt Jenna.”
“Okay.” The strawberry blond rummaged through her bag, pulling out three twenty-dollar bills. “Here you go.” Jenna handed Jeremy and Clarkson each a twenty.
“Oh no Jenna, you don't have to,” Clarkson says, declining the money.
“I know, I want to. So take the money.”
“Take the money!” Twila yelled, not sparing a glance over her shoulders. Her eyes were fixed on the waffles, she didn't want them to burn like Aunt Jenna does every time she cooks something.
“Yeah, or I'll take it.” Jeremy playfully stood up acting as if he was honestly going to, Aunt Jenna pushed him back on his seat.
“Sit down.” She told the boy. “Take it.” She utters to Clarkson, pushing it at his crest.
“Okay, okay. . . Thanks, Jenna.”
“No problem. Twila, yours is on the table.”
“Thanks, Jenna.”
“Don't you have a big presentation today?” Elena reminds the young caretaker.
“I'm meeting with my thesis advisor at. . .” Jenna glanced down at her watch and freaked, “Now. Crap!”
“Then go. We'll be fine.” Jenna nodded at Elena, she quickly put her hair up in a ponytail with a rubber band then grabbed her bag, and dashed out the side door.
Twila plopped the last waffle on top of the rest. Elena walked towards her sister, standing beside her.
“Why was Clarkson in your room?” Elena inquired.
The sepia brunette twisted her neck to her twin. “Because he came over last night.”
“Why?”
“Because he needed a friend, Elena. You know, like how Bonnie comes over when she needs you.”
“Bonnie's not a boy.”
Twila's brows narrowed down and her eyelids batted. She can't believe what Elena was saying to her right now. She angles her body, facing her sister.
“Elena, you know Clark for as long I've been friends with him.”
“Doesn't mean he's not a boy.”
Twila turned away from Elena; grabbing the pleat of waffles, she was done with this exchange. Before she walked off she targeted her big brown hazel eyes at her sister once more.
“I don't know when you've become such a wet blanket but stop with the mothering act. I can have whoever I want in my room.”Twila let Elena know, leaving her there speechless.
Twila was wordless while she ate her waffles, Jeremy and Clarkson on the other hand talked as if they were in a club meeting. The conversation with Elena left a sour taste in her mouth, she still enjoyed her waffles of course, but she was upset. Her big brown hazel eyes glared at her twin as she asked Jeremy a simple question: if he was okay. She snickers at Jeremy's response and rolled her eyes when Elena glanced at her with a confused pouty face.
Elena folds her arms and walks off from the three teens, not soon later Twila's phone buzzes. A text from Vera telling Twila she and Martin were outside. A small smile pulls at her perfect lips as she stares at the screen. Twila slides the phone back into her pocket and sights her eyes on her brother and best friend.
“Vera and Martin's outside.” Clarkson got the hint. He hopped off the stool, grabbing his pleat and then Twila's. She gave him a soft thank you. “Need a ride, Jer?”
“Sure.” Jeremy got off the stool taking his dish, going towards the sink. Clark and Jeremy end up in a —you go first, I go first— situation. Jeremy stepped aside letting Clarkson pass. Clark smiled up at him shyly. Twila looked at him with a knowing smile, and he ignored her smug look while he walked to the living room area grabbing his book bag on the sofa.
Twila walked up behind Clarkson, playfully bumping into him. “Oh, I'm sorry. You first. No, you go first. I go left, you go right? Oh, um. . . okay.” Twila laughed at her dramatic imitation of Jeremy and Clarkson's exchange in the kitchen.
“Ssh, shut up. He could hear you.” He whispered to the girl over his shoulder.
Twila rolls her eyes, “Oh, please.” She grins and moves from behind him, going to grab her book bag also. Clarkson shook his head, letting out a stressful sigh. Hoping Jeremy didn't hear his sister mocking.
“Come on, Jer!”
“Coming!” He placed the wet dish on the dish rack and rushed his way out of the kitchen grabbing his book bag on the chair head. “Hey Vera, Martin.” Jeremy greets his sister's two best friends. Vera is a square face, soft beige skin brunette with deep-set dark brown eyes. Her brows were black-filled and straight. Her hair was black and short in a pixie rat tail cut, her bangs were cut right above her eyebrows, and two long strips of black hair fell just under her chin on each side of her face.
“Hey, Jeremy.” Vera greeted back.
Martin was an almond skin boy with long brown hair and a handsome diamond-shaped face. His eyes are hooded, small, and brown. Martin is Vera's half-brother and was Twila's boyfriend of two years, now ex-boyfriend but still great friends.
“S'up, Jeremy. How's it been?” Martin made conversation.
“Okay. How about you?”
“Fan-fuckin-tastic. I got this new skateboard from my dad. It—”
“Please, stop talking about the skateboard. No one cares, Martin.” Vera twists her head briskly at her brother before aiming her sights back at the road.
“You're just mad I'm better than you.” Martin retorted.
“Ha! Better than me? Jokes. . . That was a funny joke.”
“You—”
“Please, can you turn on the radio? Don't need to hear your brother-sister bickering.” Jeremy and Clarkson chuckle at Twila's insult. Vera rolled her eyes yet she did what was told and made a turn; passing The Mystic Grill. The song WANNABE by Spice Girls blasted throughout the dark blue color car.
Vera, Clarkson, and Twila belled along with the song. Martin and Jeremy had no choice but to tolerate the ordeal of their boisterous singing.
“So, here's a story from A to Z. You wanna get with me, you gotta listen carefully. We got Em in the place who likes it in your face.” Twila bells.
“You got G like MC who likes it on a. Easy V doesn't come for free, she's a real lady. And as for me?” Vera follows.
“HA, YOU'LL SEE.” The three teens yell from the top of their lungs like a banshee's cry.
“C'mon guys.” An annoyed Jeremy wailed.
Martin's eyes traveled from the backseat to his sister. “Yeah, guys cut it off.”
“Slam your body down and wind it all around! Slam your body down and zig-a-zig ah!” They laughed at how irked the two boys were.
Twila pushed herself off her seat, her lips went to Martin's ear. “If you wanna be my lover!” Twila ear-splittingly sings.
Martin slapped his hand against his ear, “Twila, what the fuck!”
“You gotta get with my friend!” Vera sings.
“Friendships last forever!” Clarkson followed along.
“Friendship never eennnnds!” The three belled.
“That's not how it goes.”
“I don't give a shit, Martin. Now, get out of my car. We're here.” The long-haired boy rolled his eyes and pushed the car door open; he stepped out. The four other kids in the car followed shortly after.
“So — the boy had to sleep with her friends to be considered her lover?” Jeremy queried his eldest sister.
“That's not the message of the song, Jer.”
“Well, that's what it said.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Hey, Jeremy.” Vicki Donovan smiled making her way to Jeremy.
Jeremy copies and greets her back. “Hey, V.”
“Twila.” She uttered, moving her eyes to Twila.
“Victoria.” Twila gave a faint smile. Vicki and Twila were once good friends. They got especially close when Elena and Matt started dating but had a fallout this summer when she started to use her baby brother for his prescription pills and sleeping with him to avoid her own screwed-up life.
“Okay, let's go bitc—” Vera stops when her eyes set on Vicki Donovan. “Speaking of bitch.” Her hip cocked out, her fingers tucked into the back of her blue denim jeans pockets.
Vicki's mouth agape and her brows knitted. Her lips hastily retrieve with a curl and a scoff. Vera took hold of Twila's wrist, pulling the girl away from Vicki.
“See ya, Jeremy.” She said as the group of friends part ways from the young boy and ex-friend. “I still can't believe you allow him to be around her.”
“There are certain things I can tell Jeremy to do and certain things I could. He's hard-headed like that.” Twila explained with a shrug.
Lunch came fast for Twila. She had six-period lunch and had Mr. Tanner after. She was tired and glad the school day was almost over. Then she remembered she had to help Caroline with picking out some fresh faces for the new year try-outs after school. Great. She sighed.
“You look exhausted,” Vera slid, sitting down on the curved seat. She set her tray on the round cafeteria table. Today's lunch is a ham sandwich, chicken nuggets, apple, and a side of salads with a dressing of your choice and beverage. The food at Mystic Falls High wasn't so bad.
“I am.” Twila pushes her hair back, fingers gripping her hair softly. “I just wanted to go home after school and have a nice bubble bath, but I have try-out picking to do after school.” She wailed and pouted. Twila felt like sobbing, she truly needed and wanted that bubble bath.
“Aww, don't be so down, Twila. I'm sure you'll be fine.” Vera grabs a hold of her sandwich, taking a big bite.
“Let me detail it for you.” Twila leans forward, her hair falling as she moves her fingers and locks her big eyes with Vera's deep-set ones. “I'm try-out picking after school — with Caroline.”
“Ohh. . .” Vera sees the problem now.
Twila smiled tightly and her eyes squinted a bit and a little hum leaving her lips. Her smile says: now you get it. “It's going to be hell.”
“Aww, Twila. I'll be there for you.” Vera's mouth was occupied by food, she kept her teeth locked while her lips moved. The words came out muffled. Twila smiled anyway.
“You will?” Twila's lower lip pushes out.
Vera nods and speaks after swallowing. “If you need me, of course.”
“Aww, thanks,” The short-haired brunette joined her palm on top of Vera's hand. “But I can't do that to you.” She removed her hand, stealing Vera's apple. “I'll go through the belly of the beast on my own.” She takes a bit of the apple. Vera laughed.
“The belly of what beast?” Clarkson arrives, taking a spot next to Vera; Martin follows beside him.
Vera's eyes travel to the raven-haired boy. “Caroline.” She informed him.
“What about Caroline?” Martin questioned.
“I've got some fresh cheerleaders to pick out with Caroline after school.”
“Oh.” Clarkson and Martin mumble. Twila nods at the boys, chewing through the green apple.
Martin swallows down his food with water before speaking. “Aren't you co-captain? Can't you just do it another time?”
“No.” She placed the apple down on the table. “I'll just get it over with.”
“Clarkson, where were you last night?!” Barbie Forsyth asked, approaching the small group. Clarkson eyed up his sister. She stood with her hands at her hips.
“At Twila's.” He answered honestly. Barbie's eyes went to Twila; they had a squint to them.
“Of course.” She scoffed, shifting her eyes back at her brother.
The bottled blonde — Barbie Forsyth — never had a good relationship with Twila Josephine Gilbert. Ever since Twila ruined Barbie's gingerbread house in elementary school; just because she wanted a piece. And the other time they were partnered up in a history project. Barbie had done all the work and Twila just plastered her name on the paper. But those weren't the reasons why Barbie didn't like the big-eyed Gilbert all that well. For as long as she could remember, Clarkson and Twila were inseparable. She always felt like Twila was more of Clarkson's sister than she ever was.
“Why were you at her house?”
“I, uh. . . I needed someone to talk to.”
Barbie's head jerked forward. Unbelievable, she thought. “You could have talked to me.” Her light green eyes stayed on her brother; it made Clarkson feel guilty the way they were intensely piercing at him. Her eyelids blinked and she rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I wanted to speak to you last night.”
“Okay. . . What?”
Barbie glanced at Twila, who like everyone else at the table was focused on them. Barbie looked back at her brother. “Not here in front of her.” She yanked the boy, pulling him off his seat and away from the group.
Vera chortle, aiming her sight on Twila. “I'm guessing she still hates you for not doing the history project in middle school.”
“Ha, guessing?” Martin uttered. “It's a known fact she does.”
Twila laughed along with her friends, brushing down the fact that deep down she felt awful that her best friend's sister hated her for something she did in middle school. Not knowing that Barbie didn't dislike her because of some petty school project issue, the bottled blonde felt like Twila took her brother from her.
“Once our home state of Virginia joined the confederacy in 1861, it created a tremendous amount of tension within the state. People in Virginia's northwest region had different ideals than those from the traditional deep south. Then Virginia divided in 1863 with the northwest region joining the union.”
In the back corner of the room, Twila sat near the large windows. Mr. Tanner's voice was inaudible to her ears as she doodled in her history book. Through the windows, the evening sun rays hit the desk of students and the classroom floor. One golden glint shimmers comfortably on Twila's hair. A rainbow hues sat at her open history book, making Twila stop her hand movement. She admired the reflection of the colorful lights. Rainbows are one of Twila's favorable things about nature. Rainbows and heavy rain on a lazy afternoon, but she always hated the after smell. It always smelled of wet soil and moist greens.
Her large eyes wandered to the windows, it landed on the tree just outside Ms. Tanner's classroom. A crow sitting perfectly inanimate, as if it was a statue.
It was larger than most. Its feathers pitch as black but the little sunlight that hits its feathers shine a rainbow on it. It was sleek and had greedy dark claws and a sharp beak. Its black eyes glittered, and they were fixed on Elena; the brunette that sits two rolls down from Twila.
Twila watched the crow leer at her twin with this inclination in its eyes. Like how boys' eyes linger on a girl wearing tight clothes; those tops that pop out their cleavage or dresses that outline their bodies.
It was creepy, to say the least.
Then its dark eyes blink at Twila. The girl flinched back a bit, her eyes got broader, but they stayed on the bird. It was like the bird was challenging her; playing with her. A game of who would look away first.
The school bell boom, Twila flinched once more. Her eyes flutter to the front of the classroom seeing everyone packing up.
She lost.
Twila stood up, grabbing her book bag along, and followed her way out the room behind the crowd of teenagers. The short brunette sauntered her way through the crowded hall; she made a right, passing four classroom doors before reaching the staircase. She walked four flights of stairs down, landing on the first floor she went to her locker, putting and taking some of her things then — to Caroline she went.
Twila walked through the football field towards the concern the school gave the cheerleaders to practice. Her eyes gazed at the wannabe cheerleaders of all ages and sizes perfecting their moves. It brought a smile to her face.
Until Caroline spoke.
“Ugh, there you are.” The blonde's voice reached Gilbert's. Twila rolled her eyes. Always Caroline, the extra control Queen.
“Hello to you too, Care.” Twila drops her bag on the green cut grass. “Let's get this over with, shall we?” Some in the flock of wannabe cheerleaders chortle.
Caroline narrows her light bluish-green eyes before throwing Twila a mocked cheesy grin. The blonde pulled the sheet of paper to her eyesight. “Okay, first off you are going to be asked some questions — okay.” The group nods. “Okay, any of you guys have experience with cheerleading? Like gymnastics, dance, or have ever cheered before? If you have, raise your hand.” Caroline nods and marks it down. Caroline glanced to her side, “You want to say something, or are just going to stand there. Co-captain.”
Twila steps forward with a smirk. “All who have experienced step forward, those who don't. Please take a seat at the bleachers.” They followed their orders and Twila continued. “Now I want you all to show me what you've got. Jump, tumble, split, dance? Whatever you've got.”
The fourteen that step forward show Caroline and Twila what they could bring to the team. Both girls watched with sharp eyes. Twila had nicely commented on one girl who intended to do a cartwheel backflip after Caroline rudely told her she shouldn't try it again.
Twila told her she should. She did and succeeded. It was much better the second time around.
Throughout the try-out, Caroline rolled her eyes, scoffed, and scored the wannabe cheerleaders. Twila on the other hand praised and nicely Judged their performance. But she had snickered here and there with the blonde.
“Okay, we are done.” Twila was glad. “Those who made the team will be getting an email in two days and those who didn't,” Caroline sucked air through her teeth. “Too bad.” She shines her big smile, “Okay, bye.”
It was late afternoon and the sun cast a golden shadow upon the sky and Twila didn't care that it was four something when she got home, she was just happy she got her bubble bath. Her arms rest on the top edge of the tub and her hair held up by a black hair claw. She relaxed peacefully in the warm water and the smell of cinnamon, she bathed in the quietness. That was until Elena ruined it.
“Elena!” Twila shouts at her sister that breaks into the bathroom.
“Sorry,” Elena says. “Bleeding.” She put her foot on top of the toilet cover and rolled the bottom of her jeans up.
Twila looked down seeing the dry blood, “What happened?”
“I fell in the cemetery when I was running from a crow.
“Running from a crow?” It's brought a chill down Twila back. Her mind wondered if it could be the same crow watching her from the tree outside Ms. Tanner's window. No, she's just being paranoid.
“Yes.” Elena rolled down the leg of her jeans after cleaning the scraps on her leg and putting on a bandage.
“What were you doing at the cemetery?”
Elena put her foot down on the bathroom ground, sighed, and sat down on the bath cover. “I went to see mom and dad.”
Twila rolled her pretty eyes. “But you didn't see them, did you? You went to see a stone with their names plastered on it.” Twila's fingers wave in the bubble, playing with them. It was stupid for Elena to go see a piece of rock with their parent's names on it. It wasn't gonna bring them back, She thought, nothing was gonna bring them back.
Elena sighs and brushes her hair back. “I'm going to the grill, you want to come?”
“No thanks,” Twila looks over her shoulder. “I had a long day, I'm just gonna relax at home.”
The elder's twin nods, “Okay.” Elena left the bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Twila fell back to the bath and relaxed once again.
A.N— Maine focus characters & Twila's outfit
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35 notes · View notes
brookewritesyk · 3 years
Text
o n e
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Warnings- Swearing
2016 Words
───── 𝐑𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐢𝗼𝐧  ─────
𝐈𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 since the Goodmans family last saw Charlie-Rose. Charlie was always a very pretty girl or female as Martin would say. Since a young age, she's had the aspiration to become an actress. Not because of the fame and wealth that came with it if she made it big, unlike most people.
You may be wondering who are the Goodmans? The Goodmans were a family of 4 and Jonny Goodman was her best friend up until near the end of high school when she had to move. Deep down Charlie knew she always felt something for Jonny that was more than just friendship. That explains why she is sitting in a taxi with nerves coursing through her.
She was going to see the Goodmans again.
───── 𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝗼𝗼𝐝𝗺𝐚𝐧'𝐬 𝐡𝗼𝐮𝐬𝐞  ─────
"For someone who doesn't stop going on about formula 1 your surprisingly shit at driving," Adam commented getting out of Jonny's car. "Like seriously no control of the vehicle."
"No control of the vehicle?" Jonny repeated offended. Then the car alarm went off and Adam gave Jonny the I-told-you-so look.
Whilst continuing bickering they walked towards their parents' front door and they noticed it was left open.
"Why is the door open?" Adam asked puzzled.
Not answering, Jonny went and fully opened the door to find Wilson, their neighbour's dog sitting on the carpet.
"Hello", Jim, the neighbour said slightly surprised whilst coming out of the bathroom and to see Adam and Jonny were there.
"Uhh hi Jim," Adam said but it sounded like a question as he was getting more confused.
"Jonny?" He asked unsurely and slightly tilting his head.
"I'm Adam," Adam replied getting annoyed.
"I'm Jonny.." The younger brother said dumbfoundedly.
"Why are you..." Adam trailed off.
"Hmm?" Jim mumbled trying to avoid answering the question.
"Nothing." Adam sighed knowing he wouldn't get an answer.
Cautiously, Jim went to pick up Wilson's lead and flinching while the brothers looked at each other confused and bewildered. Then Jim went through the boys to leave.
"Right.." Adam said whilst closing the door. "That wasn't strange."
Still confused, they went through the house to find their parents in the garage.
"Hi, mum." Jonny greeted blankly.
"Hi." The older brother sang.
"Hi boys," Jackie responded distractedly.
"What are you doing in the garage?" Jonny asked.
"We're having a clear-out," Jackie explained now looking at the boys.
"Don't you mean what's Jim doing in our loo?" Adam joked whilst smiling.
"Martin you do know the boys are here, say 'hello'," Jackie told Martin and not answering the question.
"What?" Martin asked pointing to his hearing aid then turned around and said: "Oh hello bambinos."
"No top tonight?" Jonny jokingly asked.
"He's boiling," Jackie said.
"I'm boiling," Martin said louder thinking that Jonny didn't hear Jackie,
"Well, you're going to have to put a top on soon as we have a guest coming." Jackie reminded Martin whilst pointing to his naked chest. Then they all went to the kitchen.
Both of the boys groaned they didn't like guests coming over on a Friday night. "Why didn't you tell us there was going to be a bloody guest!" Adam complained.
"Because it's a surprise!" Jackie explained excitedly.
"So who is it?" Jonny asked whilst opening the fridge getting the whipped cream and squirting it directly into his mouth.
"Stop eating cream, its an old family friend." Jackie hinted vaguely whilst smiling wickedly and started to stir the soup.
"Well, that wasn't vague," Adam smirked sarcastically and eating bread.
"So when is Lily coming?" Martin asked from coming downstairs finally having a shirt on.
"Lily?" Asked Adam and Jonny at the same time.
"Lily? No, its Charlie. Charlie-Rose Evans." Jackie reminded her husband annoyed.
"Wait, Charlie-Rose is coming here?" Jonny asked shocked and slightly blushing.
"Yes I got in touch with her on Tuesday and I invited her over for dinner," Jackie explained.
"The Charlie-Rose Evans is coming over, the one Pissface had a massive crush on?" Adam said excitedly knowing he could take the piss out of him for the night.
"Used too, in year 10 before she had to move to Paris," Jonny defended "Plus I've got a girlfriend, Allison."
"That's never been proved," Adam stated.
"You're just jealous that I have a girlfriend," Jonny argued.
"Yes, I'm jealous that you have a girlfriend which you share with another man." Adam sarcastically agreed.
"Simon is not her boyfriend!" Jonny huffed.
Then the door went.
"Oh my God, that will be her!" Jackie exclaimed whilst excitingly clapping her hands and rushing to the front door.
"Hello, Char- Oh hi Jim," Jackie said disappointed. "IT'S NOT CHARLIE EVERYONE, IT NOT CHARLIE!" Jackie loudly informed everyone and turning her head down the hall then turned her attention back to Jim who was trying to spray breath mints but played it off as glasses cleaner.
"Nice and shiny," Jim commented whilst fastly whipping his glasses with a cloth.
"Right, sorry Jim what do you need?" Jackie asked fake smiling.
"Yes I was wondering if you had any soy sauce, I ran out and need some for my ice-cream," Jim explained while trying to stroke Wilson but flinching away.
"Ok, Jonny!" Jackie called.
"What mum?" Jonny asked annoyed walking up behind his mum.
"Could you get the soy sauce from the cupboard?" Jackie asked disturbed.
"Sure." Jonny agreed yet confused so he went to the kitchen and grabbed the sauce and lazily gave it to Jim then went back in the living room.
Then the door went again.
"I swear to God if that's Jim-" Jackie muttered whilst opening the door again to realise it wasn't Jim it was Charlie-Rose. "Oh, hello love! Aww, it's been ages how are you and how was Paris?" She asked excitedly.
"Hi, Jackie I'm doing great! Paris was magnifique. In my apartment, I had a perfect view of the Effiel Tower but it's good to be back home." Charlie explained cheerfully.
"That sounds amazing." Jackie tutted happily and guided Charlie through to the living room. "Boys guess who's here!"
"The lady strangler?" Adam joked thinking it was Jim as he was focused on his phone.
"Horrible Adam! No look." Jackie insisted.
"Oh my-" Jonny breathed shocked.
Charlie had long flowing brunette hair and hazel eyes which complemented her perfect pale skin. She was wearing minimalistic makeup and an off-white leather jacket and a white dress with blue vines on it.
"Hi, Pusface." Charlie joked smiling.
"Great that's still stuck." Adam mumbled, "Hey Paris hows it been?"
"It's been going good and original nickname. Quick question do you write jingles now?" Charlie asked unsurely.
"Uhhh yeah how did you know?" Adam asked caught off guard.
"Right I thought it was one of yours as I heard one in a cafe in Paris." She explained.
"Wow, the shit composer made it all the way to Paris." Jonny joked "H-hi Charlie.." Greeted shyly by Jonny who forgot Charlie was actually there.
"Still haven't matured have we Pissface?"  You teased going in for a hug.
"You know I haven't." Jonny laughed returning the hug.
Suddenly, Charlie-Rose started to kiss both of Jonny's cheeks which caused Jonny to blush furiously and Charlie pulled away and quickly said: "Oh my God I'm so sorry I forgot in Paris you-"
"Don't worry about it." Jonny comforted rubbing her arm.
Then Martin walked in, not wearing a top again.
"Martin," Jackie moaned.
"But Jackie, oh hello, Bambina!" Martin happily greeted and surprisingly hugged her.
"Who knew dad was capable of emotions," Adam said amused.
"Yeah who knew?" Jonny laughed.
"So how was Italy?" Martin asked pulling away and fiddling with his hearing aid.
"Italy?" Jackie asked.
"Italy?" Adam asked as well at the same time as his mum but louder.
"Yeah, she went to Italy didn't she?" Martin asked in clarification.
"Umm no I went to Paris, you know France," Charlie explained perplexed.
"Oh right," Martin said nodding.
"Sorry about that love, so how is the acting thing going?" Jackie asked intrigued whilst sitting down on the sofa along with everyone else.
"It's going well I've been in a few adverts here and there but still just looking for auditions," Charlie explained, happy and surprised that she remembered.
"Aww, little Charlie-Rose is a celebrity," Jackie said with pure excitement.
"Well not yet." Charlie joked while smirking.
"Charlie-Rose?" Martin said
"Yes?" She replied sweetly turning around to face him.
"Any males?" Martin asked.
"Males?" Charlie looked at Adam and Jonny confused.
"Have you been seeing a guy," Jackie explained rolling her eyes at Martin.
"Oh umm, not at the moment no." She said slightly sad.
"Are you a homosexual?" Martin asked.
"Dad!" Adam moaned.
"What? She's a pretty female if she hasn't got a male she must have a female." Martin logically explained
"No I-I'm not gay just haven't found the right guy yet," Charlie answered.
"If that's the case I could set you up with-" Jackie started to offer until Jonny protectively declared, "Mum set me and Adam up all you like with someone but not Charlie."
"Rather protective for someone who's got a girlfriend," Adam commented snidely. "Oh sorry, you don't as she doesn't exist." He corrected himself.
"Shut up Pusface, she does exist and she's amazing!" Jonny exclaimed a bit too defensively.
"Boys enough we have a bloody guest!" Jackie shouted at them "Sorry about them sweetie come through to dinner."
In the midst of it all, Charlie-Rose's heart sank at the idea of her best friend being with someone who wasn't her.
                                                                  ───── 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 ─────
"So where should I sit?" Charlie asked as Martin sat next to Jackie.
"Oh, you can sit next to Martin or Adam." Jackie offered using her knife to point to the empty seats.
"Ok great." She replied happily and sat next to Martin who was eating his roast.
"Jackie?" Martin said.
"Hmmm.." Jackie responded
"This is a lovely bit of squirrel." Martin calmly stated then bursts out in hysterics along with Jackie.
After calming down Jackie asked looking over at Jonny, "So are you going to tell me why she couldn't come tonight?"
"Hmmm?" Jonny asked back in response and carried on eating.
"Allison?" Jackie rolled her eyes getting frustrated.
"You know your pretend girlfriend." Adam mock informed Jonny.
"I'm not having the conversation with you right now," Jonny said looking at Jackie dead in the eye.
"Why not, has something happened?" Jackie whined disappointed.
"As I haven't seen Charlie in at least 5 years and I don't really want to talk about my girlfriend while she's here and make her uncomfortable," Jonny explained thoughtfully.
"Awww, Jonny-boo fine but only tonight." Jackie cooed
"Thank you!" Jonny sighed. "So what else did you get up into Paris?" Jonny asked trying to change the subject as quickly as possible.
"Well I went up the Eiffel Tower which was fun, did a Coco Channel advert and I went to the Louvre." Charlie listed.
"Is that the museum that takes like 3 days to see it all of it?" Marin asked.
"Yeah, it was long but definitely worth it." You told Martin.
───── 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝗺𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝗺𝐛𝐥𝐞 ─────
"Crimble crumble!" Jackie said excitedly.
"That crumble looks dry, good thing we've got water." Jonny suspiciously commented.
"What?" Charlie asked confused but in response, Jonny just did the hush symbol at her and he repeated: "Nothing I'm just saying luckily we have water."
"Oh, I know what you have done!" Adam said pointing at him and took Jonny's glass and drank from it and quickly realised "You put salt in your cup!"
"Oh my god, you still do that!" Charlie said after recovering from her fit of laughter.
"Yep." They both said in unison but in different tones.
───── 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ─────
Whilst walking out of the Goodman residence Jonny stopped and looked at Charlie and said: "I really missed you."
"I missed you too," Charlie-Rose replied.
Then Jonny went in to hug her and murmured in her ear "Please come over again next week."
Smiling she said "Of course"
71 notes · View notes
missorgana · 3 years
Text
invisible string
pairing: scott mccall/isaac lahey, background kira yukimura/malia tate and lydia martin/stiles stilinski
fandom: teen wolf
rating: mature
word count: 8924
warning: swearing, alcohol, past child abuse, minor character death, referenced homophobia
summary: When your soulmate gets a tattoo, the same one appears on your skin. And Scott McCall fears that they don't have one. (soulmates au, nonbinary Scott, they/them pronouns)
(hello my loves, i’ve been working on this project for @augustwritingchallenge for ages and it’s finally done! i missed scisaac and self projected on scott so yeah. thank you to my beloved Kaz for beta-reading, you’re life saver!!! i hope you all like this <3)
read on ao3
Scott McCall doesn’t have a soulmate.
*
They talk about it on television, in school, on the playground, in the supermarket. Scott hears their mom talk about it, and their classmates, and their teachers.
This is why they ask their mom late at night before they go to bed, at eleven years old. “How will I know who my soulmate is, mom?”
Their mother looked confused, but with her soft, familiar smile. They love her smile.
“Didn’t your teacher tell you, sweetheart?” she asks, and Scott has to concentrate, think back to every class and every word and every question. They bite their lip as they think, and their mom laughs in fondness, ruffles their hair. They push her hand away, even though it’s not that annoying, really.
“She said you get drawings on your body…” they begin, but frowns at themself, “But I don’t understand how. Will my soulmate’s name be in the drawings?”
Scott likes drawing, a lot. They don’t really understand how drawings would show them who their soulmate is, though, unless it’s their face.
Their mother chuckles again, but sits quiet for a minute. Scooby-Doo is still running on low volume on the TV, and the crickets have begun to chirp outside the window. And it’s windy, but Scott isn’t cold.
“They’re called tattoos,” she tells them, resting her head on top of their own as she hugs them, “I mean, it’s just something that happens. Your soulmate’s drawings, when they get them, you get them, too.”
Scott’s eyes widen, “Oh. Did they see what Stiles doodled on my hand in class today?”
Their mom plants a kiss on their hair before pulling away. Her eyes get all crinkled when she smiles so big, it’s very pretty. “I think so, yes.”
They chew their lip in some sort of contemplation, if they understood what that meant, yet. They can leave messages for their soulmate, then. They like that. But…
“When can I meet them?”
Scott’s mother sighs quietly, but doesn’t look angry or sad or disappointed, just tired. She turns off the TV and starts clearing up the coffee table while she replies, “Somehow you find them. Everyone finds theirs differently, different times. Their drawings tell a lot about them.”
They don’t like that answer that much. Ugh. They huff impatiently, “But I want to meet them! Now!”
And, of course, their mom is already picking them up, carrying them upstairs while chuckling quietly. The house seems bigger without their dad here. And more peaceful.
They like it much better like this. Hopefully it stays this way. Just Scott and their mom, they don’t need anyone else, they can’t even bring themself to care about where their dad might be or might be doing.
Okay, they need Stiles, though. His dad is nice, too.
“You’ll meet them, Scott,” their mother says while tucking them, “I promise you will, one day. But you have to be patient.”
They hate waiting. But their mom knows everything, she knows all the little beautiful things about the world, so Scott knows she’s right. Patience.
“Okay. Pinky promise?” they ask.
She hugs them again, for good measure. “Pinky promise.”
Scott has to be satisfied with the answer. But although their mother turns off the lights and leaves the door to their room just slightly ajar, they hide under their duvet with the sketchpad she gave them for their birthday last year.
Maybe this soulmate thing is like… a string. A string connecting them and whoever’s made for them, even though they’re miles away, at the other end of the world, even. They can’t see it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. Like air.
They like that. An invisible string.
Scott draws two hands, connected by the string tied on their pinky fingers. They use the gold pen for the string.
*
Lately, the thought of their soulmate has moved to the back of Scott’s mind.
It rests there, because after months of worrying and thinking and crying and what they now recognize as  gender dysphoria , Scott is about to tell their best friend that they’re nonbinary. They’re so fucking scared, they almost want to cry again.
They’ve already told their mom, which took them a month alone to decide on. Because what if she suddenly saw them differently? What if she didn’t love them anymore? What if she kicked them out?
It’s always been her and them, against the world. That couldn’t change.
And luckily, thank the stars and heavens above, it didn’t, and Scott’s never been so relieved in their life. They didn’t expect her to be close-minded or bigoted, they’ve always thought the highest of her, but the possibility, the fear still nagged there. They were so fucking glad to put it to rest, finally.
So here Scott is, in their bedroom on a late Wednesday afternoon, waiting for Stiles to finish his homework before he comes over to play video games, as they always do, twice a week, even though their parents eagerly want them to wait for the weekend.
Scott’s heart feels like it’ll jump out of their chest at any second.
They finally know who they are. They only assume the last puzzle piece of their whole self, of their soul to be completed by their soulmate, but the sense of peace they felt when they finally thought…  this is who I am. This is who I’m meant to be .
What if Stiles doesn’t understand? No, what if he doesn’t accept them for who they are? What if his love is conditional?  Fuck . Scott almost wants to scream.
Their heart is still clawing its way out of their chest when their best friend finally knocks on their window and lets himself in, a huge grin plastered on his face and carrying his own selection of games for them to compare with their own.
Stiles is always so happy. Well, not always, but he’s the rock Scott so desperately needs right now, like he’s been so many times before, and like they’ve been for him. They’ve drawn him many times before, and he always says he likes the drawings. And they let him doodle on their arm and hand when he’s anxious, because somehow they both find comfort in this.
They know the two of them aren’t soulmates, they think of each other as family rather than romantically, but they’re still meant for each other, they think. They hope. Stiles knows them better than anyone else, even their mother.
“You ready, Scotty?” he asks, chipper as ever, already turning on the playstation, and the nickname calms their ever painful heartbeat, just a little.
Here goes nothing.
“Yeah, uhm… Stiles?” they speak around the lump in their throat, “Can- can we talk first?”
Their best friend looks up at them from the floor, a slightly confused look on his face, but the smile intact. He returns to seat himself on the couch, not grabbing the remote. That makes Scott smile.
“Of course, Scotty. Is something wrong?”
“No. Yes. Uh, no. Shit, sorry-” they’re already stumbling over the words, fuck, but Stiles puts a hand on their shoulder, tentatively, but his precense calm and assuring.
“Don’t apologise!” his smile is crooked, and he crosses his legs before continuing, “You know you can tell me anything, right? I mean, take your time!”
Scott nods. They take a deep breath, the seconds ticking by. Closes their eyes together just for a moment. Opens again.
“Stiles, I…” they’re trying, calming their heartbeat with breathing in through their nose and out through their mouth, like their mom taught them.  You can do this. “Please don’t freak out. I’m still me, like… I don’t wanna lose you.”
Their best friend frowns. “You’re not gonna lose me, Scotty.”
Scott gulps, nods. They’re trying. Really trying. “I’m nonbinary.”
They keep their eyes squeezed shut when they say it. It’s out there now. They don’t want to see his face change, if his reaction is bad, but they have to. They have to look. A beat passes. And Scott opens their eyes to find their best friend looking at them, smiling so hard his dimples are visible and nose scrunches up.
Oh, my god. That’s good, right?
“That’s great!” Stiles almost shouts, practically jumping in his seat. He does realise his volume, though, particularly since Scott’s mom is sleeping before her night shift. He clears his throat, “Scotty, oh my god. Sorry, I got excited. Thank you for telling me.”
Scott could almost fucking cry, again. But it’s happy tears this time, the nerves vanishing ever so slowly.
“You’re not… upset?”
Their best friend almost looks offended at the question, “Why in the world would I be upset?”
Scott bites their lip. God, they love Stiles so much, “I don’t know, uhm. I was scared you wouldn’t wanna be friends with me anymore. Because I’m not a boy.”
The brunette next to them goes all soft and gooey in his eyes, Scott would know that look anywhere. He also looks like he wants to jump them with hugs, but holding himself back, “Scotty, we’re ride or die, remember? I love you. You’re my best friend and that won’t change. What kind of asshole would I be to leave you like that?”
Scott laughs, Stiles is urging to hug them they can tell, like an oversized puppy.
And they’re speaking around the newly formed tears now, “I love you, Stiles. Like, so much. Thank you.”
Their best friend is grinning like an idiot. “What pronouns do you want to go by? Oh, and should I call you something else- like, not Scott?”
“I still like Scott,” they tell him, not bothering to cover the crying, because whatever. They’ve cried in front of each other plenty, “I’d like they/them pronouns, though, I think.”
Stiles nods eagerly, “Got it!” Then, “Can I hug you now?”
Scott rolls their eyes. Of course. “Yeah, come on.”
Their best friend practically tackles them in the hug, but it’s so bloody welcome, and so warm. Thank God they’re already sitting down.
*
“I want to be a tattoo artist,” Scott tells their friends at lunch, career day still settled in their mind from weeks ago, and the arguments roaming in their head on how to convince their mom to let them go for their first tattoo next month. It’s for their birthday.
Feels natural when they’ve always been fascinated by art as much as them. The galleries their mother took them to, they’re endlessly grateful for that, honestly.
And art summer school, and art elective, one thing leads to another. And tattooing is just art with skin as a canvas, they can’t stop thinking about it. Little works of art on your body, to carry around with you every day. It feels so special and with so much meaning - or with no meaning, they’re just as fun.
Stiles already knows - of course he does - and he’s excited about it, still, while Allison smiles as sweetly as ever, Malia’s eyes widen and she’s already convincing Scott to make her first one, and Isaac… is smirking?
It’s shy, but it’s there, they’re sure of it.
He was transferred to their high school six months ago, and frankly fits perfectly into their group, Scott thinks, even though their best friend doesn’t exactly get along with him. They’re idiots, but oh well,  their idiots.
Isaac was nervous at first, they could tell. But when Scott gave him a smile in class, he gave one back, tentative, hesitant, but it couldn’t be mistaken. And once they started talking to him, questioning the red haired boy about games and lacrosse and his schedule, he opened up, slowly and surely.
Even though Scott did much of the talking at first, Isaac didn’t seem to mind. They apologised, knowing how fast and excited they can be, much like Stiles, but he still accepted the offer of having lunch with the gang, and he’s witty, and smart, and a good listener. Well, Stiles disagrees, but you know. They bicker just for the hell of it, at this point.
The two girls missing from the table quickly join them and Kira’s eager to catch up, “What are we talking about?”
Scott likes Kira, a lot. Maybe… maybe she’s their soulmate. God, they don’t know.
Her smile is very pretty, she knows so much cool stuff about astrology and is like, easily the best player on the lacrosse team, by a mile. Jackson’s always on her ass because he’s a douche, and definitely power-hungry after being named the new captain, but Kira rolls her eyes at him and brushes him off like it’s nothing. Scott admires her.
The two of them can talk for hours about music and other shit that Stiles only rolls his eyes a little bit at, but even though he calls them nerds, he also joins them way too often and unashamedly.
And he’s just acting uninterested to seem cool in front of Lydia, usually.
But at the same time, Isaac’s smile is also very pretty, and his jokes are the best. He always laughs at Scott’s jokes, too, which they really like. He keeps whispering sarcastic comments in their ear during class and rolls his eyes when the teachers aren’t looking, which makes Scott laugh. 
And he’s an expert at texting in secret, always sending them pictures he took over the weekend of graffiti tags around town and puppies on the train and bumblebees, all because those reminded him of them.
Isaac’s nose gets all scrunched up when he laughs and his eyes squeeze shut.
The boy also loves zombie movies, which is a huge plus in their book, and wears big floppy sweaters that are excellent for hugs. Isaac is already a really good hugger, he’s always… warm and soft and safe. 
Maybe he’s their soulmate. Stiles would be so upset if that were true, ha.
Scott’s listened to their mother, though, they know patience is a virtue, and maybe neither of them are their soulmate. None of them have found their soulmate yet, anyway, so they shouldn’t stress, right now, they should just look forward to the future.
“Scott’s gonna give me my first tattoo!” Malia exclaims excitedly, Lydia only seeming mildly surprised, “Right, Scott?”
They laugh, they love the brunette’s undying loyalty and curiosity a lot, “I gotta practice first, but yeah, of course.”
“You’ll get us all tattoos, right?” Allison winks at them, “We can be your guinea pigs.”
Lydia chimes in, “Not gonna happen.”
“Oh, come on Lydia!” Stiles gasps, “Don’t you trust my best friend?”
He’s so giving her heart eyes, right now. Scott’s used to it by now, and it’s adorable, only slightly annoying, given that his plan of asking her out has yet to be set in motion. They wonder if the redhead has noticed.
Lydia sends a crooked smile in their direction after flipping their best friend off, “I’ll trust them when they’re trained. No offense, babe.”
They shake their head, patting Stiles’ back. Love the defense of their honor, even when unneeded. “I feel the same way, Lyds.”
The support is unwavering and overwhelming with all of them, even Lydia. The most surprising and pleasant thing of the day, though, is when Isaac purses his lips as they walk to P.E., then smiles at Scott in a way they know is only meant for them, “You can practice on me, even though I’ll probably faint from the needle. Maybe I could get a turtle.”
Scott can’t hide their grin, “I like that.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
*
When Scott gets their first tattoo, Stiles holds their hand - before he faints, that is. He recovered quickly, it was endearing, really. They felt fine however; maybe the excitement filled up too much of their being to be worried about the pain.
Thankfully their mother approved of the tattoo and what they wanted to do with their art. She’d always been supportive, but, you know… sometimes, they worry too much. About everything.
She liked the drawing they chose, too.
Two rings around their bicep, simple black lines, but it meant a lot to them, and far, far from the last. It’s like them and their mother, they think: constant orbit with each other. She’s always protected them. They always want to protect her. Stiles called them a big old sap for it, and he’s right.
Scott planned it on their birthday, making sure to have the whole gang out for the fair, and roller skates, and showing off their tattoo with buckets of pride.
And if their stomach soared a little whenever a certain tall red haired boy smiled at them, that’s for themself to deal with. They think their best friend might be getting suspicious, given the half fond, half intensely weird looks he’s given them lately, when the whole group’s gotten together, but never said anything.
God knows if they knew what they would do about it. Scott doesn’t understand it, but… Isaac looking at them just feels right. It’s probably a little dangerous crushing on one of your close friends. Especially when you don’t know if they’re your soulmate, or who they are at all.
But apparently the universe finds it appropriate to sort this maybe or maybe not issue for them, after the fall break, when Scott finds Isaac’s seat strangely empty, and suddenly, the teacher’s shocking them to their core when she lets the class know the red haired boy’s been pulled out of the school and his family’s relocating.
In Paris. What… what the hell?
Scott doesn’t understand it. They can’t.
Isaac hasn’t said anything about this, they don’t remember, neither to them alone or to the whole group. Even Stiles looks at them with wide eyes, and Allison’s frowning from the back row.
The whole week the group doesn’t quite… work. They try to process it. Fuck. It just feels weird, unreal, not real at all.
Why would the boy just leave like that, unannounced? They would’ve hoped he would say goodbye. Scott doesn’t find themself wishing for an explanation, they just wanted to say goodbye. And ask if they did something wrong. Anything.
But the gang tries, of course, the routine returns piece by piece, even though Stiles and Lydia still argue about their possible theories on why Isaac left.
Scott just feels so, so guilty, for absolutely no reason. He seemed different after their birthday, somehow, which they’re only just thinking about now. Maybe they’re making it up, to rationalize it, somehow. They’ve got no fucking idea.
He didn’t come to school for a few days after their birthday party, that is, but… he was sick, he said. Just a fever. It was fine, he said.
Scott should get out of their own head. And Stiles says he’s the overthinker of the two.
And while their little world seems to circulate, still, Scott just feels numb, until three weeks later. Until their mother drops down on the couch while they’re watching reruns of Jeopardy and suddenly Scott has tears trickling down their cheeks, without even realising it.
Their mom seems just as confused, and upset, as themself, but she wraps her arms around them without even asking, of course she does. She tries to protect them.
But there’s nothing to protect them from, really. Just sadness. And a broken heart, maybe, one that they’re not even sure how to mend.
God, they wish Isaac was here. Guess he’s not their soulmate, after all.
*
Kira’s the first one of the group to find their soulmate. Actually, Kira and Malia, because it turns out they’re meant for each other.
It makes sense immediately to Scott, knowing of the brunette’s crush on the other girl, one she’s made vocal to them and Stiles since sophomore year. Wide eyes, making excuses for Kira to help her with her homework, grabbing extra dessert for her. Scott’s been rooting for them ever since they realised.
It’s just before senior year; where Malia proudly shows off the rubber duck tattoo Scott gave her on her ankle, after much discussion of how it should look.
“Like a rubber duck,” she told them, “But you know, with legs. Like a real duck. But not real.”
Scott had furrowed their brows while trying to follow, “Like a cartoon?”
And since she nodded, absolutely ecstatic, they got to work. They were so lucky to find an internship, and a mentor, and their mother looked so proud, almost near the verge of tears. She’s so dramatic sometimes, they love her for that.
Malia was a bit squeamish at first, which Scott doesn’t blame her for in any way, obviously. The ankle is a brave place for the first one, they’ll admit, but their friend insisted relentlessly, and they had to give in.
She put on a brave face soon enough, and took Stiles’ hand as much as she refused and called him a dick. And it turned out cool as hell!
Scott concentrates, hard, as they practice, and they’re still getting used to skin as opposed to paper. Softer, and they have to reangle their hands from time to time, even though they’re still stuck on smaller pieces for now.
They’ve been chewing their lip so much in concentration that it started bleeding once, a reminder to work off that habit. Maybe they should get Stiles to call them out on it. Like, do an eagle scream, or something, as he does whenever he wants to get their attention already.
Speaking of their best friend, he’s gotten a little better with it already, not afraid to look at the process now.
“It’s fascinating, I’ll admit,” he tells them on yet another one of their traditional game nights, “But way, way too painful, Scotty. How do you put yourself through several of them?”
Their own first was on the arm, of course, which isn’t too bad, and they kept the second one on their arm as well; Kermit the Frog. It’s funny. They like the Muppets. Sue them. Stiles loved it, too, so they’ve already got approval. Lydia definitely loves it, too, despite her initial skepticism.
But as Malia lifts her foot to show everyone on the bleachers, tradition as they wait for Kira to get off lacrosse practice, the very same girl nearly chokes on her water, prompting concerned looks from everyone, until Kira sits down and reveals her own ankle. The duck.
Needless to say, Malia becomes a blushing mess.
Kira, however, doesn’t look surprised at all. “I knew it was you!”
“Y-you did?” the girl stammers out, her foot still hanging in the air, probably out of sheer shock.
The dark haired girl giggles, wiping the sweat off of her forehead, before crossing her legs. She looks near bliss, Scott thinks. They’ve never seen an expression like that before. It makes them crave meeting their own even more.
The group stays in a strange, light, peaceful sort of silence until the coach calls Kira back, Malia’s face practically looking like a tomato at that point. Stiles is laughing hysterically at her, leaning on Scott’s shoulder, and she punches him several times until he hides behind them, almost using them as a shield. Almost, because Malia would never hit Scott, obviously, that’s reserved for the boy cowering behind them.
Their friends are such idiots.
The brunette freezes on the spot when her soulmate gets up, planting a kiss on her forehead before running off, saluting the group.
“We’ll meet at the ice cream stand!” she yells. Scott salutes back. Malia waves awkwardly.
“You okay, Mal?” they gotta ask, to reassure themself she hasn’t mentally shut off.
“Oh my god,” she squeaks, “Oh, yeah. Yeah!”
Stiles laughs even louder than before. Allison joins him. Malia may chase them both across the field, until the coach has to break them up, and now, the girl easily jumps into her soulmate’s embrace for protection.
Lydia shakes her head at it all. All in all an outstanding day for them, Scott thinks.
*
Straight out of graduation, tearful goodbyes to their friends even though they’ll see each other the week after, Scott’s got so far they’re taking clients. Their boss is proud of their progress, and they were a nervous wreck before the evaluation, but God, they feel a little proud of themself, too.
Of course, this means their friends are eager for them to practice on them and save money.
Kira’s the first in line; she wants the solar system, on a line down her spine. Scott isn’t surprised when she eagerly tells them about the planet symbolism, and she intensely stares at them drawing up the design, Malia sharing the excitement.
It’s her second, actually, the first being the one she got last year, in honor of her mom. She also seemed profusely apologetic for not going to Scott for her first, which they found adorable.
And yeah, they have to break it up in two sessions with a large piece like this, luckily the both of them are staying in town.
When Kira sees the finished result, she almost cried, they swear. “The colors are amazing, oh my God,” she tells them, already spinning around excitedly and hugging them tightly, “Thank you babeeeee. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Scott always finds themself giggling along with the girls, it’s only natural, “Don’t mention it.”
The two of them gasp, as shocked as in a Greek tragedy. “Keep mentioning it, dummy.” she tells them, and Malia adds, “You gotta book me for next week. I want a wolf!”
Allison’s the farthest away from the group, three states over; of course, they keep the promise of monthly reunions, more than once a month, even, which makes Scott feel impossibly warm every time. They still kind of wish Isaac was there. Damn.
It’s in April when Allison brings them a drawing she wants tattooed on her forearm. A portrait of a woman, with a bow and arrow, a stag at her side, and the moon looming over them both. It’s gorgeous.
“Obviously you’re a better artist than me, but this is my general idea,” she says sheepishly, as they hand her her bubble tea, “It’s Artemis.”
Greek goddess of animals and nature, that childhood obsession with mythology wasn’t for nothing. Allison’s been doing archery since she was thirteen, so it practically screams her. Scott gets seriously nervous about it, to be honest, like anxiously sweating kind of nervous, but luckily, she loves it. Thank God. They’re always scared to fuck up, especially on their friends.
But it’s way, way easier now, like they could do it asleep.
And that’s sort of put to the test, actually, because Stiles and themself decide to get drunk off their asses one Friday night, it’s been ages. And fuck it, they’re allowed to have fun. And enjoy cheap, horribly tasting beer at that.
Once they get home to Scott’s flat (taking the subway of course, even though their best friend had to be dragged away from his truck, they really dodged a bullet there, Jesus), Stiles gets to that point of his drunkenness where he starts getting philosophical and a little sad.
“What if I never meet them, Scotty,” he whines, in reference to his soulmate, that is. Scott themself gets extremely jumpy and bubbly under the influence, without failure, but they still know that frustration all too well.
“You will, honey,” they tell him.
“You promise?!”
“Prooooomise.”
They both contemplate his soulmate’s tattoos for a while. A flock of birds on his ribcage, a Sylvia Plath quote by his shoulder, a tree with its roots circling his wrist.
Neither of them has anyone they know in mind, but anything is possible! Scott still hasn’t spotted any of their soulmate’s tattoos. They’ve been thinking about it for some time now, and well. It’s disappointing, but they have plenty of time. They’ll get plenty more tattoos themself to their already growing sleeve, so they try not to worry about it  too much.
Their best friend suggests they play Mario Kart, which can only end in disaster, but then, “You should tattoo my ass, Scotty.”
Scott blinks twice, the statement shocking their drunk brain just a bit, “What?
“My ass!” he exclaims, now happier than ever, yearning for his soulmate forgotten in a split second, “Babe, pleaseee. Wait. Wait, wait, draw Harrison Ford.”
They can’t even process the request before their best friend pulls a headshot of said actor up, and starts clearing the sofa, “Indiana Jones is his best role, like… like… yeah.”
Scott laughs long and hard, this is insane. Of course, their judgement is clouded by the alcohol, right now, so what the fuck, why not.
This is why Stiles ends up lying on his stomach with his jeans halfway down, Scott sitting by his feet, the light of the iPhone glaring both their eyes at 4am.
“Ow!” he yells, like, thirty times, each time they have to laugh and then shush him, because they really can’t deal with noise complaints as sleep deprived as they are right now.
“Stop moving!” they tell him.
“But I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.”
Stiles drags out the two-letter word to the greatest extent, “Nooooo.”
“Yes,” they laugh again, “I believe in you.”
“Love you, Scotty,” their best friend proclaims, still yelling a bit, but finally lying relatively still.
Scott rolls their eyes, “Love you too, idiot. Won’t be long now.”
“Make sure you capture his eyes right, babe! It’s extremely important!”
“I know, I know.”
*
To Scott’s great surprise, the tattoo turns out incredibly detailed.
In fact, it might be some of their best work yet. They’re not quite sure if they should be proud that they can work while intoxicated, or ashamed that their best work is, well… when they’re not sober.
Stiles laughs for almost two hours straight, then gushes over it.
“I’m sorry, man,” they had to say, “It was stupid.”
“Are you fucking kidding?” he tells them from where he’s admiring his own ass in the mirror, “This is incredible. Holy fuck. You captured his DILF-yness perfectly.”
Scott rubs their eyes, they have slept till 2pm, and the sunlight still isn’t doing wonders for them, “His what?”
Their best friend returns to their bed and burrows his face in the pillow. “He’s a DILF! Dad I’d like to fuck!”
That’s definitely an explanation that wakes Scott right up. They’ve never heard of that acronym, but fair enough. They’re also rather speechless, which the boy next to them senses, when Stiles looks up and shakes his head, “Scotty, Scotty. Aren’t you lucky you have such an insightful best friend as myself?”
The morning ends in a pillow fight, naturally.
*
It’s no more than a day after their night out that Scott finally,  finally  convinces Stiles to call Lydia and ask her on a date.
He’s sworn to his ten-year plan for ages now, with little to no action on his part, so this is major progress. Their best friend spills all his worries to them, but honestly? Scott isn’t all that worried.
They can’t say for sure what the outcome will be, but judging by Stiles’ retellings of the late night text conversations and smiles the red haired girl shoots in the boy’s direction when she probably didn’t realise people were looking, Scott’s got some sort of feeling that their friend might feel the same.
Okay, they haven’t talked to Lydia about it, admittedly. They swore secrecy to their best friend, and they intend to keep that promise.
But Scott recognizes that gleam in her eyes. It’s much like Malia’s looking at her soulmate, they think. Or maybe they’re completely in the wrong. They probably shouldn’t doubt it, or Stiles will only doubt himself more.
“She’s  way out of my league, Scotty!” he exclaims for the fifth time on their FaceTime, as he’s listed pros and cons to the proposition.
They smile at the boy on their phone screen, trying to look as assuring as possible, “Lydia’s awesome, I know. But you shouldn’t put yourself down as much as you do, you know that, right?”
Stiles huffs, “I know.”
“You do?”
“I do!” he almost whines.
Scott nods, “Alright. Babe, the worst thing that could happen is that she says no. You won’t know unless you try.”
“But what if it ruins everything?” their best friend worries again, “Maybe she won’t… want to be friends, then. I don’t wanna upset her-”
“Stiles,” they feel the need to interrupt, readjusting themself on the couch, “She likes you, I know it, even if it’s just as friends. If she says no, then you’ll know and you can get over her. I don’t think she’d cut you off completely. She cares about you.”
Stiles sighs, deeply and dramatically, but the look on his face tells Scott that he knows they’re right.
“If you say so.”
And not even an hour later, their best friend calls them up again, flimsy camera and nearly screaming, because Lydia Martin said yes. Stiles looked like he was near tears.
Later that night, Lydia texted them, asking if he would find a picnic in the park too boring for a first date - clearly, she was nervous, and Scott’s never seen, or heard her nervous before. They think the two of them will be just fine.
Granted, neither of them know who their soulmates are, but when they’ve liked each other for as long as they have, to hell with it, right?
Scott spends the night and next morning thinking about it. Less about their friends, who already arranged the date today, as much as they’re excited for them. They just… now there’s two couples in their friend group. They’re so happy for their friends, they really are, but this soulmate thing is looking a bit frustrating, sometimes.
When Allison came out to the group as aromantic and asexual in the beginning of junior year (and after Scott hugged their friend so she nearly feel over on the grass, the nerves disappearing from her laugh much the same way that they had felt when they came out to Stiles, and the rest of the group) Malia blurted out a question, “Do you have any soulmate tattoos?”
“Mal!” Lydia gave her a pointed look, but the dark haired girl chuckled.
“It’s fine,” she told her best friend, and all of them, “I don’t. Either the universe knows what’s up and hasn’t given me one, or whoever it is just doesn’t have tattoos. Fucked if I know how it all works.”
Scott hates the fact that it created a nagging little thought in the back of their mind. It’s still tiny, but still living there, showing its ugly head late at night when their anxiety gets at them.
Maybe they don’t have a soulmate at all.
Shit.
Fuck.
What if?
They don’t have much time to worry about it that evening, though, when some stubborn knocks sound on their door, and they open it up to reveal Lydia and Stiles. They’re holding hands, Scott can’t help but grin.
Stiles has much the same expression on his face. Lydia looks a bit furious.
“Did you tattoo Harrison Ford on his ass?” she asks, voice impatient.
Their eyes widen, and look back and forth between them, but their best friend just looks lovestruck and a little confused.
“You showed her?” they ask, and the redhead sighs, “No. I’m asking because I have a picture of Harrison Ford on  my ass.”
The shock takes the both of them aback.
Lydia’s upset about the tattoo, not them being soulmates, thank God, because Scott was rooting for them a lot. She rolls her eyes hard as they explain their drunken mishap, crossing her arms, but they’d know the fond smile anywhere. She doesn’t hide it anymore.
“Sorry,” Stiles says over and over.
Needless to say, the boy freezes on the spot when Lydia rises and shuts him up with a kiss, “You’re an idiot, you know.”
He nods eagerly, “I know.”
“Yet I love you,” she states, and Stiles looks like he’s about to faint.
“You-you do?!”
Lydia looks content, and takes his hand again. She also ruffles Scott’s hair with her other hand, commending them for bringing them together, evidently, “Obviously.”
*
It’s the first day of December, a little after midnight, that Scott comes to a conclusion.
They’ve been lying awake in bed for two hours now, tossing and turning, and since they can’t sleep their brain starts going into overdrive.
The group is gonna have a get together before they return home to their mom. Stiles constantly gushes about Lydia, of course. Kira called them on Malia’s birthday and confessed that she’s thinking about proposing to her girlfriend on New Year’s Eve.
They… are happy for them. So very much. They’re not lying in any way.
But why the fuck do they feel so lonely?
They’ve been paying more attention to their skin, desperately keeping their eyes out for tattoos that aren’t their own. Maybe they could’ve missed if it blended into their now fully closed sleeve. Or… or maybe it’s in a place they didn’t think of before.
But days have been going on and on, and Scott has been counting every single one of their pieces, and every single one they recognize.
The lavenders and forget-me-nots, the Millennium Falcon, the pac-man, their mother’s favorite song, the  idiot #2  tramp stamp that matches Stiles’  idiot #1 .
Nothing unfamiliar, nothing’s out of place.
This is why the thing that’s been worrying them sick ever since that day their tall, red haired friend had mysteriously dropped out, and almost vanished into thin air, finally sneaks out of its hiding place and hits them with full force.
It must be the only liable explanation.
Scott probably won’t get any sleep tonight. Scott’s also pretty sure they don’t have a soulmate.
*
They’ve been living with the fact that they don’t have a soulmate for, hm, well - almost two years now. And it’s fine, really. They’re slowly getting used to it, anyway.
Scott told their mother after Christmas when they realised, and she almost worries out of her skin, but they were a bit too embarrassed to cry in front of her then. Hopeless romantic and all.
Stiles also reacted to the conclusion by cuddling them for a whole weekend, letting them win every video game they played and buying them so many snacks it’s shocking neither of them passed out from that heavy of an amount of sugar.
All their friends shared their frustration, and sadness, in their own way, and so they never felt alone about it. Always and endlessly supported. They love them so much.
But yeah, they just had to carry on with life. What else is there to do?
And although they still think about it in both good and bad moments, they’ve distanced themself just a little bit from it all, worrying just an inch less, working hard and spending time with their best friend and gang whenever possible.
It’s getting easier, more peaceful.
Scott’s set up an Instagram dedicated to their portfolio, and clearly their friends got the word spread back to Beacon Hills, and around it. And lots of other places. Kira and Malia became their unofficial promoters last summer, when the couple went on a road trip around Europe, to celebrate the engagement.
The wedding is this summer, also, which Scott cannot possibly contain their excitement about. They love those girls.
Their best friend is joint best man, of course, Allison joint maid of honor, and the reception playlist is already piled upon with Dolly Parton and Megan Thee Stallion. They love their friends’ music taste, for real.
So all in all, they’re doing pretty great. Well, February is filled with a bit too much of the Valentine’s Day ads and hype for their taste, but they’ll come to not mind it eventually. Hopefully.
And right now, Scott’s headed for the tattoo parlor (they got a permanent position, holy fuck) to draw up some designs and check out the bookings for next week. It’s a quiet afternoon, after the weekly morning call with their mother, and the group chat is ever so chaotic as always.
They’ve already got, like, sixty missed messages since they left the flat, Jesus.
And so they’re stood on the train station, train arriving in five minutes, checks their phone and then-
Then. Holy fuck.
Is this real life?
Are they imagining things?
Or is it… is it him?
On the opposite side of the tracks, Scott spots a tall figure, with curly red hair and dressed in a green turtleneck and black jeans. They must be confusing them.
Except the person turns around, and, oh my God.
It’s Isaac. It’s Isaac Lahey.
And Scott doesn’t know what to fucking do, except their jaw drops like an idiot, staring until the boy-uh, man on the other side widens his blue eyes, looking directly into their own brown. This is real.
About twenty agonizing seconds pass by as they both process what’s happening before the redhead waves, a small, hesitant one. So naturally, Scott waves back.
That’s that. Then Isaac points in the direction of the exits. They nod immediately.
He leaves. They leave. Oh God, oh god, oh god.
*
When Scott ascends the stairs out onto the bustling streets, it seems like they’ve been waiting forever. Their brain is such a drama queen.
And there the red headed man stands- he’s tall, still, half a head taller than them. When he spots them going in his direction, a smile forms on his lips, and it’s soft and shy and all too familiar.
This could easily have Scott in tears, but they hold it in.
When they’re finally face to face with their old friend, they can’t help returning the smile. Isaac keeps moving his gaze from their eyes to the ground, back and ground, like he’s scared to look at them too long. Scott swallows around the lump in their throat, unsure of what to do.
They never, ever, in a million years expected this to happen. They never thought they would see him again. Yet, here he is.
Scott clears their throat in an attempt to sound cool and collected, although they fail horrendously, “Hey.”
“Hi,” the taller man answers.
Well, that’s a start, right?
Yet again they’re processing, thinking, they can almost see the cogs in Isaac’s brain turning, until their mouth decides to speak before their brain can decide on the words, “Can I buy you a coffee?”
Thank their lucky stars, Isaac nods instantly.
And it’s when they’ve gone to the nearest café, Scott nursing a café latte while Isaac settles with his iced coffee, that they start talking. And talking. And talking.
The conversation flows immediately, and so easily, almost like they were never apart.
It’s surprising, yet safe. Scott has to ask what they could only wonder about all these years.
“Why did you… why did you leave?” they get out, before they can lose their courage. And when their old friend’s mouth twists into a frown, and his eyes fill with something like a pained memory instead of nostalgia, they instantly regret the question.
Isaac speaks before they can apologise, though, “I’m sorry.”
“I was about to say the same, I didn’t mean to-”
“Scott, no,” he interrupts, with a small sigh, “I want to tell you. It’s, uhm… maybe it’s easier if I show you.”
They find themself furrowing their brows in confusion, “Show me?”
The man nods and takes a sip from his coffee before he rolls up the sleeve of his hoodie. And then… there’s a Kermit, there, on his wrist. The lavender branches travelling up his arm, right up to the two black bands, encircling his bicep.
Scott feels like the world is moving in slow-motion. It’s just Isaac, in front of them. And he’s got all their tattoos.
They realise they’ve been quiet when the man in front of him starts looking worried, and so they say the first thing they can think of, “You’re my soulmate?”
He nods again.
Scott has a soulmate. They’ve got a soulmate and… he’s right in front of them. 
The boy they’ve been harboring feelings for since they first became friends. The tall, clumsy stranger who’s overly critical of zombie lore and talked in his sleep whenever he stayed over at their house, and… the boy who hugged them in the queue to the go-karts, just because he could.
Holy shit.
Scott doesn’t even realise the tears falling from their eyes before Isaac’s confusion intensifies, and they try to wipe at their cheek, a little embarrassed. But fuck that. “Sorry. Oh my God. Isaac, I thought- I thought I didn’t have one. Shit, I was terrified. I never got any tattoos… that weren’t my own.”
And so, the redhead’s smile starts getting a little teary as well. He chuckles, his voice breaks, but he looks  so happy. They’ve missed that smile beyond belief.
“Yeah, uh,” he clears his throat, “Still not good with needles.”
They smile at each other in the silence for a moment. Scott doesn’t want to keep questioning if Isaac doesn’t want to tell them, so they just… look at him for a moment. He still is just as pretty as last time they saw him, but he’s grown his hair a bit longer, his arms more defined, he’s wearing tighter jeans than he used to.
The bustle of the other residents and the baristas busy behind the counter goes on for a beat, before Isaac speaks again, “I didn’t leave by choice. I-I would’ve said goodbye. If it was my decision.” Scott nods. They know.
“It’s my dad,” the redhead continues, “Uhm… ever since my mom died, he… became violent. He beat me. And when he didn’t, he, uh, locked me in the basement. Those were my sick days.”
The man in front of him winces, wipes at his eye in defiance and Scott does, too.
Fuck.  Fuck . And they never fucking knew.
“Isaac… I’m so, so sorry. Fuck,” they feel they still have tears threatening their way, and they don’t know how to stop them, struggling with their words. “I should’ve been there for you, I should-”
“Don’t,” he tells them, “You didn’t know, Scott. None of you knew.”
“But I should’ve known-”
“It’s not your fault. Please believe me when I say that.”
They nod again. Isaac still has that timid smile on his face, as teary as it is, as their smile probably is as well. The thought of their friend being abused, and… going through it  alone , not being able to reach out for help, that no one fucking stepped in, it pains Scott in an unspeakable way, right now.
The redhead swallows before speaking again, “After your birthday, after your tattoo, well, I got it as well. And it didn’t take long for him to piece together that it was you. He monitored my phone. And he was a fucking bigot, so his reaction wasn’t exactly positive.”
Scott feels the urge to hold Isaac’s hand, and in fact, before their brain can stop it their hand already touches his on the table.
When they realise, they take it back, “Sorry, I didn’t-”, but Isaac grabs their hand back again, his lying on top of their own. He sniffles, wipes at his eyes again, but the warmth radiating from him is immediate.
“So he forced me to France, cut me off from everyone, and we stayed there, and I cried myself to sleep every night,” he tells, his frown deepening, “Until Camden was discharged.”
His older brother, Scott remembers. He signed up for the army.
“He lived with us for three days before my dad threw a glass at me over the dinner table, right in front of him. My brother knocked him out on the spot. We got the hell out of there.”
Isaac smiles again, breathing a little easier. Scott feels the same.
“I’m glad,” they say and squeezes his hand. Their heart flutters when their friend squeezes it back.
“So…” Isaac starts again, a sigh escaping his lips, “Now I’m here. That was two years ago, and, uh, yeah. We roamed around for a while, too scared he’d try to find us. Camden got us a place out of town, though, it’s too… loud in here sometimes.”
He runs his free hand through his curls and takes another sip of the coffee. Scott’s practically forgotten about their drink by now, it must be cold.
“And a therapist,” the redhead says, “I got a therapist. I need one.”
His smile grows, little by little. It’s still the shy one, just like Scott remembers, screwed up by tears and the rain. He looks happy in their company. They hope so, at least. They hope he’ll be okay, that he gets to be happier. They want him to be happy.
“I’m so happy you’re out of there, I…” their voice breaks halfway, and they both chuckle at it, “I worried myself sick about where you were. I just want you to be okay.”
Isaac bites his lip in the smile, “I will be.”
“Good.” A thought hits Scott, though, “Your dad, he doesn’t know you’re back, right? If that fucker finds you-” “He’s dead.”
“Oh.”
Isaac nods, “Neighbours in Paris called my brother about four months ago. It feels morbid to say, but honestly… Camden bought champagne.”
“I would’ve done the same,” Scott says, with zero hesitation. The redhead’s peacefulness has an effect on them, like a warm embrace. However, when a customer in the queue yells at the barista, Isaac flinches, and they’re just about ready to take him by the hand and get out.
They’re still wondering about their friend’s feelings towards them, because… they’re soulmates. But people don’t always stay together. People don’t always get together.
Scott knows they’re just as much in love with Isaac as they were back then. It’s come back in full force, and the longer they look at the man, it just makes them want to wake up to the sight of him, every single morning. Listen to him rant about zombies for two hours straight and eat McDonalds at 3am and kiss in front of Stiles until he tells them to get a room.
Their best friend probably already knows about their feelings towards the red haired man. They never told him, but he’s scarily knowledgeable sometimes.
“Isaac,” they start, trying to figure out how to ask, Isaac still grazing their hand with his thumb, “About the tattoos. I’m in love with you. I hope that’s not too blunt, but… I’ve liked you since we met, I think. If you don’t feel the same, I understand-”
“I love you,” he states, immediately, and surely. He squeezes their hand again as both their smiles almost turn to grins, “Sorry. I could yell it at the top of my lungs, if you want. Soulmate.”
This might just be the best day of their fucking life.
“Want to get out of here, soulmate?”
*
In the little parlour at the corner, the gang’s all crowded up, even though the shop’s supposed to be closed. They closed two hours ago.
Yet, Scott’s friends have formed a small circle around the chair, where their soulmate’s taken his shirt off to allow them to tattoo his collarbone.  Masterpiece , the piece says, but it’s mirrored, so he’ll be able to read whenever he looks in the mirror.
Isaac’s facetiming his brother, too, who’s already given Scott the big brother talk; secretly, he loves them, the redhead told them so.
“You ready?” they ask him, planting a kiss on their soulmate’s hand, and he nods.
“Ready.”
“Tell me if you need a break, okay?”
“I will, baby,” he says with a chuckle, but Scott  needs to be sure.
“Seriously, whenever-”
“I know,” Isaac laughs, and kisses their cheek, which never fails to make them blush, despite the many, many kisses they’ve had until now. In all places. And more than kisses. Their soulmate is the most incredible person they know (sorry, Stiles), and they just want to keep learning, discovering everything about him.
He still talks in his sleep. He found a much better therapist than the first one, and he has fewer nightmares now. Sometimes he wants to talk about them, sometimes he just wants Scott to hold him. He likes to be the big spoon. He  hates the smell of coffee and eats excessive amounts of bacon. He likes to wake Scott by tracing their tattoos with his hands in the morning, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll steal the comforter and jump in the bed. He’s still such a nerd.
Every moment with him is unbelievably peaceful.
Their soulmate takes a deep breath, nods and so Scott gets started on the tattoo.
“Want me to hold your hand?” Stiles asks with a laugh, but they’re pretty sure the offer is genuine. Those two have been taking a liking to each other, after all, no matter how much they deny it.
“Absolutely not,” Isaac fires back, and the brunette gasps, making their soulmate smirk, “Lydia can hold it.”
She does, no matter how grumpy her soulmate looks. Malia’s nearly on the floor laughing.
This is safe. This is home. They’re all soulmates in a way, meant to be tied together, no matter where in the world they might be. And they’re so bloody happy to have him, and them, in their life.
*
Scott McCall has a soulmate.
13 notes · View notes
mischiefandi · 4 years
Text
A Shitty Love Song (Part 1) - Stiles Stilinski
Wild Ones
A/N: hey everyone! this has been a long time coming! thank you for lovely comments on my previous post, im super happy to finally be posting this. a HUGE thank you to @duskholland​ for helping me out so much with this series, ily to death bitch. enjoyy yall
Summary: Y/N is a 17 year old girl who struggles in an epic battle against herself. Whether it is amor’s icy grasp or life’s unexpected course that forces her to finally open up, only one thing is certain. The truth cannot be long hidden.
Warnings: underage drinking, party times, maybe a couple of swear words but im not sure haha
Word Count: 5,3K
Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Reader (Y/N)
Series Masterlist
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(picture is not mine -> credits to @ pechka on unsplash)
Seasons before, in the early fall where the leaves don’t yet want to leave their wooden hooks, Y/N had just started her junior year of high school. Being the new girl in school, she was afraid of being alone - something she had always been - but not this year. Whether it was chance or fate, she happened to fall upon a curious but wonderful group of people who quickly became her friends.  
At its center, Scott McCall, young lacrosse player with a boyish charm and a heart of gold and by his side, Stiles Stilinski, an eccentric and spirited young man. Surrounding them were Lydia Martin, the fiery and confident genius, the sweet yet lethal huntress, Allison Argent, and finally Isaac Lahey, charming Mr Mischief himself.
This pack of wild cards had found a new companion, and Y/N fit in like a puzzle piece filling in its designated spot. She got along with everyone in the group, forming indestructible friendships with these eccentric teenagers, and she felt fortunate beyond belief. More often than not, she would eat with them by the walnut tree outside of the school. The group would share stories and food, complaining about the soporific lessons from the earlier period, or excitedly planning the next outing, the next party. Every week, the teenagers would go hang out in the woods by the mystical ruins of the Hale House, doing more of the same. Life was light and good.
The group had planned on hanging out by the Hale House one quiet September afternoon, but the universe likes to play tricks, and somehow Y/N and Stiles were the only ones to show up. Deeming it a happy accident, the pair walked through the damp woods together, talking about their day and slowly letting each other in. Laughter echoed between the trees and the wind turned.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
A little more than a month had gone by and Halloween was just around the corner. Classes seemed longer than usual, bigger stacks of schoolwork forming daunting piles on Y/N’s desk. But school was the last thing she could think of when she got home after a long day of concentration. The only thing that mattered, was Stiles. Video calls, phone calls, and late night texts that seemed to never cease took over the second Y/N’s feet passed the threshold of her home. And nothing compared to these conversations.
“I’m sorry but no.”
“Stiles, stop, seriously.”
The mole-speckled boy lunged forward in front of the screen and passed a shaking hand through his spiky hair.
“There is no way you like the second trilogy better than the first one. It’s just not possible.”
“Well it is possible, because I do,” Y/N retorted, her unfazed expression gleaming back at him.
“Literally how? The group dynamic alone should make you see reason. I mean come on. Han and Leia? Han and Chewie? Han and Luke?”
“You do know Star Wars doesn’t exclusively revolve around Han Solo right?” she asked, her lips breaking into a smirk.
“First of all, no. Second, give me one single reason why the second trilogy is better than the first,” Stiles said, “I dare you.”
“One reason?”
The boy nodded, serious as a statue.
“Hayden Christensen.”
Stiles groaned deeply, his face buried in his large hands.
“Can’t even have a serious discussion about Star Wars with someone rational.”
“I’m not sorry.”
“You’re the worst.”
Y/N paused, holding a finger to her chin.
“Hmm, agree to disagree.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Hey! How can we have an intelligent debate about anything if you use swearing as a last resort.”
“I have given up on us. It’s over.”
Y/N laughed profusely against her pillow, shaking her head.
“You’re a drama queen.”
“FRIENDSHIP OVER!” Stiles bellowed and Y/N shot her head back, unstoppable laughter erupting from her stomach.
“It’s going to make things awkward at the party, Friday,” Y/N said between chuckles, her laughter quieting down.
“Who said you were even invited,” replied Stiles, adjusting his shirt, revealing a tiny patch of skin just above his sweats. Y/N’s eyes flicked over to the screen but the second had passed.
“Funny. Listen, I gotta get some sleep otherwise I’ll pass out in math or something.”
“Yeah, I should probably also go to bed sometime soon.”
“Hopefully before tomorrow morning.”
“Har-har,” said Stiles, smiling at the camera, his chocolatey irises beaming at Y/N.
“Goodnight nerd.”
“Goodnight loser.”
Y/N stuck out her tongue at Stiles before hanging up the call.
That night, as she carefully brushed her teeth and got her clothes ready for the next day, Y/N thought back on her video call with Stiles, a warm smile spreading on her lips.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
The week passed so slowly, each hour lasting an exhausting eternity. School, demanding as ever, while keeping Y/N busy, was the reason why time seemed so lengthy. The nasty side-effect from tantalizing hours is the amount of thinking you do to keep busy. So Y/N did just that. She thought about how much she cared for her group of friends, she thought about the fact that she had never felt like she belonged like she did then.
She thought about how nice it was sitting by the Hale House, enjoying each others’ company, how life is so much lighter when you feel surrounded, how much she had learned about herself after meeting the pack. She thought about the band Stiles and her liked so much. She thought about Star Wars. She thought about the sound her computer made when Stiles sent her a message. She thought of his hair, his moles, his neck. She thought about how thrilling it was when he sat next to her. She thought about how much he mattered in her life, just like the others mattered too.
Y/N did so much thinking that week. But the funny thing is, amor has a way of tricking your mind. Your body believes one thing but your mind has been bewitched, and no amount of thinking you do can remove the fog clouding over your eyes. 
When came Friday, Y/N was happy to be done with school, bursting through the doors of the establishment, excited to go home and get ready for Danny’s Blackout Party. She was thrilled about going, however nervous she felt. 
She had never been to a party like Danny’s rave before and she had no idea what to expect. But more importantly, she was afraid of crowds. She had tried going out to packed bars with people from her old school, but the chaos and the drunks surrounding her made her feel beyond uneasy. 
“Y/N! Wait up!” She heard Allison exclaim, and she slowed down her pace, allowing the brunette to catch up with her.
“Are you excited for tonight?” asked Allison, her light brown eyes gleaming brightly.
“Yeah, it’s gonna be...crazy.”
“You okay?”
Y/N forced a smile and nodded overenthusiastically.
“Yeah! Just tired. It was a long day,” she replied.
“Same here, which is why, we need to let loose tonight! Let’s get ready at Lydia’s, so we can all head over there together.”
“Sure. Quick question though, how did Lydia get us invited in the first place?”
Allison giggled, nodding her head towards Aiden and Ethan standing by their motorcycles.
“How do you think?”
The girl’s laughter echoed through the cool autumn air and disappeared with their cars. It was going to be a night to remember.
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
As Y/N and Allison reached Lydia’s house, Y/N couldn’t help but feel more and more anxious, tightly gripping her bag filled with clothes and makeup. The party was starting to worry her.
People had been whispering about it all day back at the high school, talking about the numerous illicit drinks that would be served and the intriguing entertainment. It seemed like the Danny had gone all out for Halloween. Still, not knowing exactly what to expect practically terrified Y/N. 
She was outgoing, but big crowds and chaos were things that made panic bubble up inside of her very core, quickening her heartbeat to a frightening extent. She loved dancing and partying, and much like other people her age, she loved a good drink every once in a while, but huge events and big blowouts, she had never been a fan of.
Putting on a brave face, Y/N shut the car door and walked up the stairs to Lydia’s front porch, ringing the doorbell as Allison locked the car. After what seemed like mere seconds, Lydia opened the door, letting the excited girls in.
“Finally. I thought I was going to have to get going without you,” she said, smirking at the pair.
“Y/N couldn’t decide what to wear,” replied Allison, sending Y/N a look that made Lydia scoff.
“Excuse me if I've never been to a neon-themed rave. How am I supposed to know what to wear?”
“Well the name of said rave could be a pretty good indicator,” mocked Lydia as the girls walked up to her bedroom, shutting the door behind them.
“Ali, what are you wearing?”
Allison giggled with a smirk and did a demonstrative twirl, showing off her burgundy flannel shirt and black jeans.
“This!”
Lydia raised her eyebrows at the brunette, a confused expression etched on her face.
“Am I the only one here who understands the term “neon”?” she asked.
Allison shook her head then slowly unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a neon pink bra.
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. This stunt was definitely orchestrated for someone special.
“Wow. Isaac will love it.”
“It’s about time you two did something about your situation,” joked Lydia, reaching for an eyelash curler.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” replied Allison with an innocent shrug and a slightly less innocent wink.
“Well now that Allison’s outfit is sorted, it’s your turn, Y/N. Let’s see what’s in this enormous bag of yours.”
The strawberry blonde bent down and grabbed Y/N’s bag before she could say anything, emptying its contents in a flash.
“No, no, definitely not, no…Y/N, why are all of these clothes black?” inquired Lydia, with a look of disgust she had difficulty hiding.
“Lyds, I told you, I don’t know what to wear to a rave.”
“Show me your bra.”
“What?”
“Show me your bra. If it’s the right colour, we can just pair it with some of my clothes.”
Y/N reluctantly removed her white shirt, revealing an electric blue floral lace bra, much to Lydia’s delight. Allison whistled approvingly.
“Okay here’s what we’re gonna do.” Lydia walked over to her closet, carefully studying its contents. Allison and Y/N exchanged a glance as Lydia clapped her hands together.
“This goes with this, and you have to tuck it in, like so,” she said, “okay, try this on. Now.”
Y/N looked down at the outfit her friend had put together.
“Yes ma’am,” she mumbled, her face as white as a sheet.
Y/N walked to the corner of the room as the girls chatted and finished getting ready. Her heart thundered as she passed her neck through the bottom of the sheer black top Lydia had handed to her. Looking herself in the mirror, all she could see was a blushing dishevelled mess. Her bra covered most of her chest, but the curves of her breasts were only slightly hidden by the black mesh material she was wearing.
“Okay, this is okay…” she muttered to herself, trying not to panic.
Bending down, she grabbed the black layered skirt she had brought with her and brought it up to her hips, tucking the top inside. The skirt helped balance out the outfit, but still Y/N wasn’t fully convinced.
“How are you feeling?”
“Kind of nervous honestly.”
“I meant how do you feel about the outfit- but you’re nervous? Why?” asked Lydia, walking over to Y/N in front of the full-length mirror.
“It’s just- I’ve never been to a big party like tonight, much less looking like…this,” Y/N reluctantly replied.
Lydia bit her lip and sucked in some air before smiling widely at Y/N and taking a step forward.
“By “looking like this” I hope you mean by looking incredible. Y/N, look at yourself. You’re tall and confident, the outfit looks amazing on you. Your look is not the problem,” she said, gently.
“Then what is?”
“You tell us,” replied Allison, walking over to the girls by the mirror.
Y/N exhaled deeply and turned around to face her friends.
“I hate crowds. I love partying don’t get me wrong, I just- I get really really panicky around big crowds of people. The noise, the warmth, all of it, just terrifies me. I’m worried that I’ll hate it and freak out or something. I’m sorry, I probably should have said something before.”
As soon as the daunting words had slipped through her lips, Y/N felt a weight lift from her weary shoulders, a wave of relief passing over her entire body.
“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone’s got something they’re uncomfortable with. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” said Allison, sweetly.
“I know, it’s not that I’m ashamed, I just- didn’t wanna be a downer. I really am excited for tonight! I’m just nervous.”
Lydia placed her hands on Y/N’s shoulders and smiled brightly.
“Look, you’re gorgeous right now. Even without my help, you’re gorgeous. And tonight, we’ll be around the whole time. If you feel freaked out or you start to panic, we’ll go outside and get some fresh air. We don’t mind.”
“Exactly, we’re your friends. You know you can depend on us on occasion,” Allison joked and Y/N laughed, shaking her head timidly.
“Seriously, Y/N, we’re gonna have a ton of fun tonight. And if you need anything, whatsoever, we’re both here,” added Lydia.
Y/N’s heart swelled and she felt her eyes filling slowly. Blinking the impending tears away, she smiled widely, her radiant eyes following suite.
“Thank you, both of you. You’re the best.”
“Agreed. Now, that’s sorted. Are you comfortable with the outfit?” asked Lydia.
Y/N looked at herself in the mirror, analyzing every detail of her figure, taking in how “out there” the outfit was. After a few seconds, she nodded to herself and smiled.
“You know what? You only live once.”
Allison giggled and rested her arms on Y/N’s shoulder.
“Tonight is going to be amazing!”
🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙
As Lydia’s car pulled into the parking lot in front of the venue - a large concrete building comparable to a construction site - Y/N sent a text to her friend.
Y/N: we just got to danny’s party
Y/N: u guys here?
The girls looked up at the windows on the top level, the neon lights shining through catching their attention, the music already reaching their ears.
The group excitedly entered the building, Y/N’s heart thundering against her ribcage. Allison noticed the worried look on her friend’s face and she slipped her hand in hers, sending her a warm smile. Y/N took a deep breath, and the three beautiful girls went into the otherwise empty elevator. On the way up, Y/N’s phone vibrated against her palm and she looked down at the screen.
Stiles: we aren’t there yet
Stiles: Scott needed to go get something
Y/N’s heart couldn’t help but sink a little. She had hoped the boys were going to be there already, though why, she couldn’t say. Her phone interrupted her thoughts again.
Scott: by smth, Stiles means someone
Scott: and by someone, he means Kira
Scott: also we’re late because of the jeep
Scott: ;)
Y/N chuckled and texted him back, Lydia and Allison sharing an inquisitive look.
Y/N: figures :))
“Who is that?” asked Allison as the elevator doors opened.
Y/N winced slightly and turned to Allison.
“It’s the boys. Scott was just telling me they picked up Kira…”
“Oh.”
Lydia looked from Allison to Y/N, and back, the awkwardness beyond tangible.
“Are you okay?” asked Y/N, worried that the news had killed the mood.
“Honestly? I don’t love the idea of partying with my ex and his new girlfriend, but we broke up three months ago. We’ve both moved on. Besides, I really like Isaac. I’m not gonna let this ruin my evening,” Allison answered, a soft smile on her lips.
“Allison has Isaac, Scott has Kira, Stiles- well I don’t know about Stiles. That leaves you and me, Y/N. You can help me avoid Aiden tonight,” said Lydia, straightening her dress.
“Aiden, as in, the guy you hooked up with who just so happens to be the guy who invited you to this rave?”
“Precisely.” Lydia walked away hurriedly, and the girls laughed, entering the venue.
The grey concrete in the hall was uncharacteristically bland compared to the other-worldly burst of colours inside of the venue. Neon blue, pink, orange, yellow, and green exploding in every direction, paired with blaring purple lights attached to the concrete beams above the dancefloor where what looked like at least 70 people were jumping up and down to the beat of Losing It by FISHER. Strands of white UV tubes hanging from the ceiling all around the dancefloor lit up every white item of clothing in the room, turning the pure colour into a bright purple.
This giant nebula of chaos and colour made Y/N’s blood pump ten times faster throughout her body. That or the the bass blasting through the giant speakers by the DJ. Either way, the thrill of it made Y/N shiver, her whole body completely frozen in place. 
“This is crazy!” Allison gasped.
“Danny really went all out,” said Lydia, staring at the dancing figures in the center of the room.
Y/N’s phone buzzing woke her from her trance and she read the text.
Stiles: be there in about 20 minutes
Stiles: can’t wait to embarrass you on the dancefloor
Y/N: oof
“Let’s go get a drink,” Lydia urged, walking over to the large snack table with numerous bottles. Y/N read the labels and nodded, impressed by the wide range of drinks.
“Wow. Jack Daniels, vodka, a shitton of beer, wine coolers, rum, Jagermeister…Danny really did go all out.”
“Pass me a cup,” said Allison.
As the girls filled their glasses, Lydia eyed Y/N’s cup.
“Y/N, are you sure you want to start with a triple shot of vodka?”
“Yeah, it’s fine!” Y/N exclaimed, downing the drink before anyone could stop her and gasping as the strong liquid burned its way down her throat.
“Ohkay, take it easy,” said Allison, shooting a worried glance at Lydia.
“I’ve got it under control,” replied Y/N as she refilled her cup.
“Let’s go dance!”
Allison dragged the girls away from the table, walking over to the dancefloor. Y/N downed her second drink and nodded wearily.
“Yesss, let’s do this!”
The looming herd of party-goers, intimidating as it was, seemed a little less daunting now that Y/N was actually at the party.
“How bad could it be?” she thought to herself before treading through the mass, occasionally bumping against people energetically throwing their limbs around.
In the middle of the chaos, Allison stopped and started moving her hips in sync with the song, Lydia quickly following suit. Y/N bobbed her head along to the beat of the bass, her arms swinging awkwardly on either side of her body. Allison laughed and grabbed her friend’s arms forcing the movement to flow through Y/N’s limbs. Lydia busted up and down, moving her waist so naturally it seemed like she had been born for this very moment.
Closing her eyes, Y/N tried to focus on the music vibrating throughout her body, the memory of the colours surrounding her floating behind her eyelids. Allison sang along with the lyrics of the current song, shouting out the words as she moved from side to side. Y/N slowly started to lose herself to the music, letting go of her inhibitions, forgetting the world around her.
When the beat changed, her feet jumped up and down, as if they had a mind of their own. Her head felt heavy yet no thoughts crossed her mind. The music had gotten rid of all concentration, the only thing left was the bass flowing through her veins, making her entire body pulsate to the beat.
Beads of sweat trickled down Y/N’s neck as she kept dancing, her feet starting to ache with every jump. It had only been about fifteen minutes, but to the dancers, it seemed like a wonderful eternity. Finally, Lydia tapped on Y/N’s shoulder and shouted by her ear.
“Let’s do some body painting!”
Y/N nodded profusely, a wide smile on her lips.
“Ali went to dance with Isaac!” Lydia shouted as the pair pushed through the crowd.
“Where’s the paint?” shouted Y/N, trying to hear her own voice over the music and failing miserably.
“Over there!”
A tall blonde boy holding brushes with purple and pink tips smiled as the girls reached him, his charismatic grin turning Y/N’s cheeks bright red.
“What can I do for you ladies?” he asked, his pearly white teeth a bright purple as his grin widened.
“My friend over here needs a lot of paint. Emphasis on lot,”Lydia insisted.
Y/N shook her head, giggling stupidly.
“Not too much paint,” she said warmly.
The boy smiled with a wink.
“Let me worry about that.”
Y/N removed her mesh top, holding it with her right hand, patiently waiting for the boy to start painting across her chest and back. She shivered as she felt the cool wet tip of the brush meet her sweaty skin, sliding a few inches down, a thick stripe of paint spreading across her back. Y/N giggled at the cold feeling, the alcohol in her system reaching her head. She closed her eyes and bent her neck to the side as the boy continued his line up to her collarbone.
“What’s your name?” she heard him ask.
“What’s yours?” she chose to answer, smiling wickedly.
She heard him laugh as he started painting little dots up her back.
“Jeremy.”
“Nice to meet you, Jeremy.”
“You know most girls like a proper introduction before getting this close,” he said over the pulsating music, his breath fanning over Y/N’s neck as he painted small strokes down her shoulder. Y/N grinned mischievously.
“I’m not like most girls,” she teased as she turned to face him.
“No, I guess you’re not,” the boy replied, his eyes darting towards her lips and back up.
“I’m almost done with your body- I mean with the paint,” he said, shaking his head with a grin. Y/N giggled and stepped closer.
“I’m all yours…” she replied.
Jeremy’s deep blue eyes lingered on hers before focusing on her chest. Y/N thanked the universe that he wasn’t looking straight at her, otherwise he would have seen her cheeks fill with red for the second time. He delicately placed pink and orange dots up and down her chest, careful as to not stain her bra and she watched him, observing his concentration with admiration. Finally, he looked up, smiling at her.
“My masterpiece is done,” he declared, placing the paintbrush on the body paint stand.
Jeremy reached for a mirror and handed it to her. She admired the strands and dots painted across her body in a chaotic waltz, the hot purple and pink clashing against her skin. Looking up at him, she grinned widely.
“You’re talented,” she said.
“It’s easier when you have such a good canvas to work on…” he replied, sending her a look hot enough to melt her.
Momentarily remembering the outside world, she looked around and quickly realized Lydia wasn’t there anymore, probably off dancing or looking for Allison. Y/N turned back to Jeremy.
“I’m sorry, I should probably go check on my friends…” she said, biting her lip as she slipped her mesh shirt back on.
“Of course. Maybe later, we’ll bump into each other on the dance floor?” he replied, a nervous smile etched on his lips.
“Yeah, maybe.”
Y/N winked at him and walked away, trying her best to keep her cool.
“Well that was something.” She thought to herself, a wide grin planted on her face.
Looking around, she couldn’t find either of her friends, nor could she find Isaac. Slightly disappointed, Y/N walked over to the table and poured some vodka in an unused cup before knocking her head back, letting the burning liquid run down her throat.
She eyed the dancefloor and thought back on her previous conversation with Jeremy. She was beyond nervous. She’d never actually kissed a boy before. The opportunity just hadn’t ever presented itself. But now that she was here, feeling tipsy as ever, a few feet away from the cutest boy at the party, she couldn’t help but think, why not?
Wiping her sweaty palms on her skirt and downing her fourth - albeit, strong - drink of the night, she nodded to herself and walked over to the dancefloor.
As Five Hours blasted through the speakers, Y/N pushed her way through the sweaty crowd once again, making her way to the center of the dancefloor. Ignoring the world surrounding her, she closed her eyes and gave in to the music, feeling every beat of the song pulsate throughout her entire body.
Colours, flashing lights, the feeling of people’s skin against hers, her head spinning and swaying in every direction, it made her feel alive. As the last drop of the song reached its peak, Y/N jumped with the crowd, knocking her body against complete strangers, feeling the warm and sticky air fill her lungs with every breath.
The song Too Much by Curbi started to play and Y/N felt someone’s body against hers. Closing her eyes, she turned around and felt a pair of strong arms wrap around her waist. She sighed lightly, enjoying the feeling of her skin against the boy’s. His fingers treaded down her back, firmly settling just above her ass, holding her steady in a sea of bustling bodies.
She danced against him, turning around again, her back facing his front. Moving against his body, she felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her in. His hot breath fanned over her neck and she moaned slightly, squeezing his hand reassuringly.
Suddenly, time seemed to stand still when his lips lightly touched her warm skin. Y/N inhaled sharply, her eyes still shut. The only thing she could hear now was the sound of her heartbeat furiously thundering against her ribcage. Slowly caressing the boy’s arm, she allowed further access to her neckline, moaning loudly as she felt his feverish lips plant warm kisses on her neck, inching higher and higher. Y/N’s hands reached for his and she tugged them closer to her body, her hips still moving against him. His lips danced furiously across her neck, leaving dangerously beautiful marks on her skin.
The music seemed only to heighten her senses. Her legs almost gave out when she heard the boy groan lightly against her ear, her response, a small whine at the loss of contact with his lips. She turned around and tried to open her eyes, the bright lights bursting through the gap in her eyelids. Squinting at his face, trying as hard as possible not to lose herself to the music again, Y/N’s eyes caught a glimpse of the boy’s face.
Bright pink dashes stained his cupid’s bow and the right corner of his bottom lip, the paint from her neck helpless in the face of a passion like this one. Y/N’s eyes scanned the rest of his face and widened slightly when they met amber irises, warm and inviting and so familiar. Her fingers threaded through his damp dark brown hair, her brain trying to comprehend what was about to happen.
His chocolatey eyes looked deep into hers and he licked his lips slowly, the world around them fading. Y/N felt her vision blur as she inched closer to him, her nose picking up the scent of old leather and pine trees and rain. His lips lingered over hers and she felt a chill as her name echoed through the air.
“Y/N…”.
Their lips connected in a frenzied blur, sending sparks of pleasure throughout Y/N’s entire body and the chaos surrounding the pair completely swallowed them. His teeth slightly bit her bottom lip and she deepened the kiss, ardently giving in to his deliciously demanding mouth. Unable to control her body, she steadied herself against him, tugging at his shirt with one hand, the other cupping his face as he sucked on her delectable lips.
Their bodies so unbelievably close disappeared in the crowd of dancers, the whole world somehow a thousand miles away.
Time, a forgotten concept.
A/N: I seriously hope u enjoyed this!! if u did please reblog :)) (would be super helpful especially with tumblr acting up w the tags and all that) <3 part 2 coming soon!!
if you would like to be added to this series’ taglist, please send me an ask :)
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fandomrewrites · 3 years
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Season 3a, Episode 1: Tattoo
Hello all! I am back! As of now I don’t think there will be a post schedule but I will try to post once a week - sorry ahead of time if that doesn’t happen. Please message me or reply if you want to be added to a taglist. I am also thinking about starting to post my The 100 series rewrite so tell me if that is something that you guys would be interested in reading. I hope you all enjoy and as always constructive criticism is appreciated. 
Season 3a, Episode 1: Tattoo
Pairings: Scott McCall x Twin Sister, Lydia Martin x Best Friend, Isaac Lahey x Reader
Warnings: Mild violence
Word Count: 3,342
Season 3a Masterlist
"Lyds, I don't want to dress up for a date I don't even want to go on." I say exasperated.
"It's not a date. It's a group thing. So hurry up and get your cute little butt dressed in the outfit I picked out. We still need to pick up Allison." Lydia replied leaving no room for argument.
I let out a huff then reach for the clothes to get dressed. 
"Stop your pouting. At least I stuck with black."
I playfully roll my eyes, "Yeah, at the very least."
"Would you prefer pink?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, making her way to her closet.
"God no." I shudder at the thought. Lydia lets out a light laugh and shakes her head. "Okay. I'm good." I hold my hands out and do a spin for Lydia.
"Hot as ever." She replies with a smirk.
I giggle, "Alright, gorgeous. Let's go." I link my arm with hers as we head out of her house to go pick up Allison.
A little while later Lydia, Allison, and I are sitting in Lydia's car driving down the road. "It's not a date. It's just a group thing." Lydia insists.
"Do they know it's a group thing? Because I told you I'm not ready to get back out there." Allison asks from the backseat.
"Seriously. Isaac and I kinda have a thing going. I really don't want to go on a date." I say.
Lydia first addresses Allison, "You were in France and you didn't do any dating? For four months? And you," She glances at me, "Having a thing going is totally not the same thing as dating."
I roll my eyes but let Allison answer, "Did you? I mean after-"
She gets cut off by Lydia, "Do not mention his name."
"Is he okay? I mean, did everything work out?" Allison questions.
"The doctors looked like idiots when he turned up alive, but yes everyone got over it." Lydia replies.
"Derek has been helping me and him with our Werewolf 101 the whole summer." I say looking back at the hunter.
"Like how not to randomly kill people during a full moon." Lydia adds in.
"So you've talked to him?" Allison asks Lydia.
"Not since he left for London."
"You mean since his dad moved him to London."
"Whatever. He left. And seriously? An American werewolf in London? Like that's not going to be a disaster." I let out a light chuckle and shook my head at the remark.
"Then you're totally over him?"
"Would I be going on a group date if I wasn't?" Lydia questions.
Allison and I share a look, both of us having satisfied smiles on our faces. Lydia glances at us then sighs, "Okay, it's a group date. Not an orgy. You'll both live."
She then brakes at a red light. "Isaac better not find out about this." I say, giving my best friend a stern look.
"So is he your boyfriend?" Allison asks with a smile.
"We aren't official or anything. But I care about him a lot."
"And again. This isn't an orgy. If you aren't official he can't get mad at you for going on dates." Lydia says.
Before I can reply Allison gasps from the backseat. She sinks down and has a look of pure shock on her face. I open my mouth to ask what's wrong but she speaks before I get the chance, "Oh my God, oh my God, I can't see him. Not yet."
Lydia and I share a brief look before looking to the side to see Stiles and Scott stopped next to us at the red light. Allison holds her head in her hands trying to hide, "Lydia, go - please. Go, please."
"But the light." Lydia says. Finally, to stop Allison's begging, Lydia steps on the gas, running the red light. With the jeep disappearing in the rearview mirror Lydia asks, "You all right?"
All Allison can do is shake her head. "Lydia, stop. I need to go back. I need to talk to him." Allison says.
Lydia slows the car to a stop. We all glance out the rear window to see that the jeep stopped too. Lydia starts to speak once more but I can't focus. I start to get a dull pain in my chest. 
I look down at my arm to see the hairs start to raise. I cut off whatever Allison was about to say with a very panicked, "Get out of the car."
I reach over to undo my seat belt and open the door, "What?" Lydia asks.
"Now. Get out of the car now." Lydia and Allison both hurriedly follow my directions,  "Move to the back."
"(Y/N/N), what's wro-" Before Allison even has time to finish the sentence a deer comes out of nowhere and slams right into Lydia's car, smashing through the windshield.
"How did you-" Lydia doesn't finish her sentence, too shocked to continue.
I shake my head, "I- I don't... It might have been my danger sense. I just- I never." I can't complete a sentence, still in shock about what happened.
Suddenly Scott and Stiles are now beside us seeing what happened, "Are you okay?" Scott asks.
"It came out of nowhere." Lydia says.
"Are you hurt?" Stiles questions, checking on Lydia then quickly turning to me.
"We're alright. (Y/N) got us out before it hit." Allison says.
I walk over to the front of the vehicle to get closer to the deer as Lydia starts speaking again, "I'm not alright! I'm completely freaked out. Why the hell did it do that?"
Scott starts to make his way over to me and the deer, "It was scared." Scott says.
I look up at him, "No. Terrified."
 *_*_*_*_*_*
 The next morning I quickly get ready changing into something black of course, though to appease Lydia I decided to go with a lighter colored plaid skirt. 
Once at school Lydia and I wait for Allison by her locker. Lydia surveys the faces in the hall, trying to pick out the new faces. "Freshmen. Tons and tons of fresh men."
I smile and shake my head as Allison says, "You mean fresh boys. They're fourteen."
"Some are more mature than others." Lydia tries to argue.
"You know it's okay to be single. Focus on yourself for a little while. Work on becoming a better person." Allison tries again.
"Allison, I love you. So if you need to do the thing where we talk about me and pretend like we're not actually talking about you, that's totally fine. But I don't want a boyfriend. I want a distraction." She pauses, noticing someone, "Like that."
Allison and I both follow her gaze to see a new student moving through the hall. Looking down at his hand I see a black motorcycle helmet held in a gloved hand. A second student joins the first, identical in looks and the fact that they are both carrying identical helmets.
"Brothers?" Allison questions.
"Twins." Lydia and I answer in unison.
As they walk closer to us I pick up a scent. I cock my head to the side as they both make eye contact with me before quickly averting their eyes. Werewolves.
 *_*_*_*_*_*
 Walking into first period with Allison and Lydia, I move to sit in front of Stiles. Lydia sits next to me leaving the only vacant seat right in front of Scott. Allison walks over and awkwardly asks, "Anyone sitting-"
She gets cut off by Scott's answer, "No, no one. It's all you. All yours. Totally... vacant."
Stiles and I both look at him in disbelief. I mean seriously how can he be so awkward with her. Suddenly all the phones in the class start to either vibrate or ding, letting us know that we have a message.
I, along with everyone else in the class, pick up our phones to check what it is. "The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds..." A young brunette woman, that I have never seen before walks in and starts reading the text.
"And the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the Earth flowed somber under an overcast sky seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness."
She looks at the class as everyone stares back, "This is the last line to the first book we're going to read. It's also the last text you'll receive in this class. Phones off, everyone."
Rather than shutting my phone off I put it on silent then slide it into my bag. Ms. Blake, the young brunette teacher, starts writing on the board. Not even a minute later the door opens revealing the principal. Ms. Blake and the principal speak for a few seconds then she looks towards the students, "Mr. and Miss McCall?"
All eyes fall on me and my brother as Ms. Blake motions for us to follow. We both look at each other trying to see if the other knows why we are getting called out of class. We sling our backpacks over our shoulders and follow the teacher through the door.
"I'm sure it's an emergency if your mother needs you to leave school. But I'm going to give you a warning in the nicest way possible. I'm well aware of your attendance record. I don't want to see you slip back into old habits."
"I won't. It's going to be different this year." Scott immediately answers.
"Don't need to worry about me." I pull my lips into a tight smile.
"Resolutions are only good if you stick with them." Ms. Blake says, looking between my brother and I.
Scott nods, "I will. I swear it won't be ephemeral."
We both turn to leave, I raise an eyebrow looking at my twin, "Ephemeral? Studying started early this year?"
"PSATs." He simply states.
 *_*_*_*_*_*
 Our mom, Scott, and I rush down the hospital corridor. Mom just told us about Isaac being brought into the hospital earlier that morning with some pretty severe injuries. "Why didn't you tell us before?" Scott asks.
"Honestly, I was hoping I wouldn't have to." Our mom answers.
"What do you mean?"
"Everything you've been doing. The extra reading, the summer school, saving up for the bike - even though it scares me to death. I don't want to break a good rhythm."
Scott stops to look mom in the eyes, "It's not going to stop. I'm going to be better this year. A better student. A better son. A better friend. A better everything. I promise."
"Plus if you really didn't want to tell Scott, you could have told me. I mean I should know about Isaac being hurt any way. We do kinda have a thing going in case you forgot." I speak up.
"Which is why I didn't want to tell you. I didn't want you to be worried."
"Well I am mom."
Mom sighs, "He's in 215. If he's not already in surgery." Scott and I both lean in to kiss mom on the cheek then make our way to Isaac's hospital room.
We quickly slip into the elevator, Scott hitting the button for the second floor. As we wait for the doors to close, a blind man walks through the door. "Could you hit the button for the second floor?"
Scott and I glance at each other, then at the already lit up '2' button. Scott reaches over to press it one more time, shrugging his shoulders at me. "Thank you." The man says.
Once the elevator doors open Scott begins to move out but is stopped by the man's cane. "You wouldn't mind helping me out for a second, would you?" He questions.
"We're kinda in a rush sir. I'm sure you can manage-" I get cut off by Scott elbowing me in the ribs. I throw him a glare as he starts speaking to the man.
"Sorry about her, she's a little worried about her boyfriend. I'll help." Scott takes the man's arm then they begin slowly walking out of the elevator and down the corridor. 
I pause for a minute still in the elevator with my jaw open in shock due to how slow they are moving. I throw my hands up and shake my head. Rather than follow after them I start to make my way to Isaac's room.
I sigh when I see that Isaac is no longer in his room. "Dammit." I turn down the hall looking for Isaac, or Scott. I finally spotted Scott and made my way up to him, "Ditched the blind guy."
"Really -" I cut Scott off, holding a hand to his face. My head snapping to where I know the elevators are. My chest aches as I quickly grab Scott's hand and start pulling him towards the elevators with me. 
We make it in enough time to see the elevator doors still wide open. Isaac is in a wheelchair, unconscious and behind him is a man with scrubs. Though Scott and I both realize rather quickly that the man is not a nurse but rather another werewolf.
Without stopping to think Scott and I run forward, both with our claws and fangs out, attacking the man.
The elevator doors close with a ding as the unknown werewolf, Scott, and I begin fighting. Despite it being two against one the other werewolf is a lot stronger than the two of us. 
The werewolf picks Scott and I up by our throats just as the elevator dings again, signaling that the doors are about to open. 
"Don't you realize what you're dealing with? I'm an Alpha." He says, eyes glowing red.
Before he can do anything else, the Alpha jerks forward in shock as claws jam into his back. Derek Hale stands behind him, making his presence known. "So am I."
The unknown Alpha drops Scott and I, a smile making its way to my face as Derek slams the Alpha's head into the wall. He then picks him up and throws him out of the elevator, quickly closing the doors.
Derek turns to Scott and I, "Aren't you two supposed to be in school?"
 *_*_*_*_*_*
 Derek, Scott, and I leave the hospital with a still unconscious Isaac. Just as we are making our way inside the burnt Hale house Scott's phone rings. Stiles calls wanting to tell him about something that happened at the school, but rather than listen, Scott gets him to meet us.
"You don't still live here, do you?" Scott asks as he hangs up. Derek places Isaac down on a charred table in the middle of the room.
As I stand next to Isaac lightly running my hand through his hair, Derek answers, "No, the county took it over. But there's something here I need."
My eyes don't leave Isaac but I make sure to listen to Derek and Scott talk, "It'll help heal a wound from an Alpha." Derek says to Scott.
"But it did heal." Scott says, confusion evident in his voice.
"Not on the inside."
"Are you going to tell us who that was back there? The Alpha?" Scott asks.
"And why is he here?" I pipe up, finally looking towards the other two in the room.
"A rival pack. It's my problem. I know you both want to help. And you did. I owe you one. Now go home. Go back to being a teenager."
"I'm not leaving until Isaac wakes up." I cross my arms.
Before Derek can reply Scott speaks, "Derek. If you want to pay back the favor now..." Derek breaks eye contact with me to look at Scott, "There is something you can do for me."
Derek and Scott sit in chairs across from each other, Stiles now here, stands by Scott's side. I still stand beside Isaac, constantly switching back and forth from looking at Isaac to the three guys clustered together.
"I see it. Two bands, right?" Derek asks. Scott nods, prompting Derek to ask another question, "What does it mean?"
"I don't know. It's just something I traced with my fingers.” He presses his fingers to a dust covered side table, he draws a circle then a larger circle around the first.
"Why's this so important to you?"
Scott lowers his eyes, "Do you know what the word tattoo means?"
Stiles answers this time, "To mark something."
"That's in Tahitian. In Samoan it means open wound. I knew I was going to get a tattoo when I turned eighteen. I always wanted one. But then I decided to do it now to make it a kind of reward."
"For what?" Derek asks as I knit my eyebrows together.
"For not calling or texting Allison all summer." More softly then before Scott continues, "Even when I really wanted to. Even when some days it was so hard not to. I'm trying to give her the space she wants. But four months later it still hurts. It still feels like- like an open wound."
Derek picks up an acetylene torch once Scott finishes his explanation. "The pain's going to be worse than anything you've ever felt."
Scott nods, "Do it."
Derek lights the torch and almost instantly Stiles says, "Yeah. I'm going to wait outside."
"No, you're going to help hold him down. (Y/N) you too." Derek says.
I nod and make my way over as Stiles, less confidently does the same. We each hold on tight to one of Scott's shoulders as Derek slowly lowers the blue flame to Scott's arm. Scott's eyes start glowing yellow, fangs start growing, and he opens his mouth to scream.
Scott quickly loses consciousness as Derek continues to work on his tattoo.
 *_*_*_*_*_*
 About a minute after Derek finishes the tattoo, Scott snaps awake. He looks up at all of us then lets his gaze drift towards his arm. The two bands are still there, confirming that it worked.
Scott slips his shirt back on and turns to leave the Hale house with Stiles. I still refuse to leave since Isaac still isn't awake. Derek makes his way over to me and Isaac as Stiles looks at Scott's tattoo. "Looks pretty damn permanent now."
"I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happened to us - it just feels like everything changes so fast. Everything's so... ephemeral."
A brief moment passes before Stiles asks, "Studying for the PSATs?"
Scott nods, "Yeah."
"Nice." 
Scott opens the front door but before he fully leaves the house he turns to Derek, "You painted the door. Why'd you paint it?"
"Go home, Scott."
"And why only one side?" Derek and I both start towards the two teenagers standing in the doorway. 
"Scott-" Derek tries to get him to leave once more but is cut off with Scott unsheathing his claws and scratching the paint off of the door.
Underneath the red paint is a black triskele pattern. "The birds at school and the deer last night. Just like the night I almost got trampled by deer. The night I got bit by an Alpha. How many are there?"
"A pack of them. An Alpha pack." Derek replies.
Confused Stiles asks the same question on my mind, "All of them? How's that even work?"
"I've heard there's a kind of leader. He's called Deucalion. We know they took Erica and Boyd. Isaac, Peter and I have been trying to find them for the last four months."
"What if you do find them? How do you deal with an Alpha pack?" Scott asks.
"With all the help I can get."
I open my mouth to tell Derek to let us help then but before I get the chance a voice behind us speaks, "Where is she?"
We all turn wide eyed looking towards Isaac, who is now wide awake and sitting up on the table, "Where's the girl?"
I quickly make my way over to Isaac as Derek asks, "What girl?"
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magmagpie · 4 years
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Poachers are Jackasses, Change my Mind - Wild Kratts Fanfiction
(Martin has an unfortunate run in with some poachers.) (Mentions of blood and injury, this has been your warning.) (Also, I drew an illustration at the bottom, if you wanna see that.) 
"Martin!" Chris yelled into the forest. "Martin, where are you?"
"You sure it's this way?" Aviva asked the younger brother.
"Sure I'm sure," Chris grinned. "Martin sent me his coordinates. He said that was where the bear cubs were. And besides, no harm in going the wrong way a couple of times."
Aviva rolled her eyes before continuing their search for the den. They both called out for the blue-clad brother, though neither really expected a response. When Martin had his mind set on a baby animal, there was no grabbing his attention back.
But as they ventured deeper into the forest, an unsettling pit formed in their stomachs. The more they called, the louder the silence that settled afterward sounded. There was another reason they weren't getting a response.
"I have a bad feeling about this, Chris," Aviva spoke what they had both been thinking for many minutes.
"Me, too," Chris agreed. "Martin! Martin, please answer me! This isn't funny, anymore, dude!"
"Chris..." a weak voice rasped.
"Did you hear that?" Aviva halted, grabbing the brunette's green sweater.
"Yeah," Chris pulled his arm away to keep walking. "Martin!? Was that you!? Martin!"
"Chris..." the voice came again. "Over here..!"
"Martin, keep talking!" Chris broke into a run, hoping to come across his brother sooner.
"Chris.." he was so close.
Chris looked ahead, catching sight of something blue on the ground. Adrenaline shot through him like a bullet as he ran up to it.
It was none other than his older brother. Chris dropped to his knees, grabbing his brother's shoulder and flipping him over. He had a wound in the right side of his head, and a puddle of blood seeping out from under his jacket.
Chris unzipped the blue coat, pulling back the side. There was a large, bloody rip in his originally white t-shirt. Underneath that was a deep wound, bleeding profusely.
"Martin," Chris looked at his brother's face. "What happened!?"
"Poachers..." the word krept out of Martin's mouth like a snake out of its hole.
"Where are the cubs?" Aviva came up beside Chris.
"Over there..." Martin raised his hand a little, pointing at a cave in a bound of rocks. There was also a large puddle of blood that he didn't dare look directly at.
"Call Koki and Jimmy," Aviva ordered, rushing to the den. She poked her head in, olive green eyes landing on two shivering bundles of black fur. "I've got the cubs."
Chris pulled out his Creature Pod, dialing for the Tortuga. He informed Koki and Jimmy on the situation when their faces appeared on the small screen. He told them their coordinates, and hung up, putting the Creature Pod back in his pocket.
"Martin," Chris shook his brother's shoulder a little. Martin opened his eyes a crack to look up at him. "What happened to you?"
"..." Martin breathed heavily in preparation for the explanation. "They got their mother..."
Martin laughed as he played with the bear cubs. Normally, he wouldn't even think about going near a bear cub, but, for whatever reason, this mother bear really didn't seem to mind. She just kept watch, like he was simply someone her kids invited over to play.
"You two really like those berries, huh?" Martin raised an amused eyebrow. The two bear cubs were snacking on little red berries on a nearby bush.
He picked a few of the berries, drawing the cubs' attention. He held his hand out to them, watching them try shoving each other out of the way to get the tiny fruits.
"I'll need to come up with special names for you two," Martin smiled.
One cub decided at that moment that he wanted a dirt bath. He rolled around in the dirt, his black fur instantly being coated in a light brown. Martin laughed.
"Okay," He reached over, petting the dirty cub on the head. "You're Dusty."
But before he could come up with another name, a loud boom rang through the surrounding area. Martin flinched, immediately standing up.
The mother bear growled under her breath. Martin scrambled the cubs into the den to keep them out of trouble.
The gunshot rang again and a pained roar echoed in Martin's ears. Mama Bear stumbled a little as she hobbled off the top of the den. There was a wound in her side, where the bullet had hit her.
"Oh no," Martin gaped at her. He would have gone up to her and try to help her, but he knew she would only snap at him.
More gunshots sounded, making Martin flinch. He whipped around in search for whoever was shooting at them. But there was no one else anywhere.
When he looked back at Mama Bear, she was laying on her side in a puddle of blood. Martin gagged involuntarily. He shook his head, trying to calm his racing mind.
"Stop shooting!" He demanded to whoever would listen. "There are cubs she has to take care of!"
There were murmurs of a discussion coming from somewhere he couldn't place. He stood his ground, anyway, though kept his eyes off the bloody mass that was the mother bear.
There was rustling from the bushes and out walked a man, not much shorter than him. He had black hair and a scruffy beard and mustache. He also had a light machine gun held at his side in both hands. Martin didn't say anything to him, simply standing tall with a stern glare.
"Isn't this cute," The man commented. "You from here, boy?"
"None of your business," Martin spat. "What are you going to do with her?"
"Classified," The man gave a grave stare.
"You have no right to hunt the bears in this area," Martin informed him. "This is off hunting grounds."
"You know a lot about the area," The gruff gentlemen contemplated. "What did you say your name was, kid?"
"Kratt," Martin saw no wrong in telling him his name, not to mention who had the gun in this situation. "Martin Kratt. And you are?"
"You're one of those Kratt monkeys, are you?" the bearded man huffed. "The name's Rider. I'm your enemy, as far as Kratts and hunters are concerned."
"..." Martin glared at him as a response.
"What's wrong?" Rider teased. "Wild cat gotcha tongue?"
"Leave the bear alone," Martin ignored the joke. "She has a special role to play in the forest."
"Not, gonna, happen," Rider refused slowly.
Martin felt a surge of rage and soon found himself tussling with Rider for his gun. He knew it was a bad idea, but the flashes of sudden anger was overwhelming and he couldn't help himself. He had to help the bears at whatever cost. And if he was lucky, he could get it out of his hands and call his team for back up.
Rider, to combat his incredible strength, twisted the gun around and bashed the shoulder end into the side of the blonde's head. Martin, at the same time as this, felt an excruciating pain in his rib cage. He crumpled to the ground, unable to hold himself up on his wobbly legs.
He looked to the side to see who had shot him. Standing in the bushes was another man. He looked younger than Rider, and he had orange hair and a pistol.
"Grab the beast," Rider ordered.
Both poachers walked passed the painful blonde to the still heavily bleeding mother bear. Martin watched them take one end each and start carrying her away.
"I hope you realize, Kratt," Rider stopped to looked down at him. "You've lost this round." Martin heaved as the men continued walking.
"Sorry," He strained. "I didn't catch that..I don't speak bullshit.."
Rider immediately dropped his end of the bear and whipped around, booting him hard in his bullet wound. Martin grunted as he collapsed the rest of the way to the ground.
"You said that?" Chris asked in disbelief.
Yes, Martin had no problem whipping out a curse when he was mad enough, but in a situation where the opposing person could easily make sure it would be the last curse he said, he was usually more careful about it. This was a poor example of that care.
"Yes," you could hear the anger in his voice through the strain of speaking. "And I don't regret it..I meant it.."
"I'm just shocked they didn't take the cubs," Aviva commented from her spot sitting on the other side of him. She had both bear cubs to either side of her.
"Poachers like those guys don't typically take baby animals," Martin informed. "They have no use for them..so they take the parents, and leave the babies to die.."
"These two are still lucky to be alive," Chris added. "A lot of the time, poachers will wound animals they don't take, even the babies. Maybe they didn't because Martin was there."
"That's what I'll call her," Martin smiled at the unnamed bear cub. "Lucky...Dusty and Lucky..the bear cubs.."
"Where are Koki and Jimmy?" Chris wondered anxiously. "We have to get Martin to the Tortuga. The bleeding's getting worse." Martin's eyes drifted down in the direction of his chest wound. "No." Chris put his hand between his eyes and the tons of blood. "Don't look. You'd be out before Jimmy could finish a slice of pizza."
Martin gave an airy chuckle. His moment of humor was interrupted by his bullet wound deciding laughter was too much and flared up all at once. His brain started feeling a little loopy from the loss of blood. So, naturally, he winced.
"..." Chris gave him a worried look.
"We have to go after them," Aviva told the brothers. "You said they took their mom."
"Aviva," Martin looked at her sadly. His voice was quiet, whether it was because he was upset or because he was getting tired was beyond the group of creature adventurers. "Mama Bear is dead...there's no way she survived so many gunshots..."
"He must have hit you harder in the head than we thought," Aviva spat at him. "The Martin I know would never give up on a captured animal. We don't know for sure they killed her."
"No," Chris shook his head. "He's right. Poachers don't usually leave the hunt unless what they've hunted is dead. Sometimes they'll kill it later if they have no other choice."
"But there was no threat to what they were after," Martin added. "After they took me out, nothing stood between them and their target..."
"..." Aviva couldn't combat their arguments, no matter how much she wanted to. She could see it on their faces; they didn't want it to be true, either. They'd just come to accept the truth for what it was, even if it was possibly the hardest thing they'd ever had to do.
A few minutes of silence passed. Martin had closed his eyes, which seemed like the only escape from the unbearable( ;} ) pain of his wounds. Just when his brain started feeling light, almost like he was about to fall asleep, he was roused by his brother's voice.
"Martin?" Chris asked. "You still awake?"
Instead of a verbal response, Martin cracked his eyes open. Only, as soon as he did, his vision was overrun by swelling black dots and he could have sworn he was transported to space, judging from the stars he was seeing. His head started pounding harder than a professional drummer on concert night and his chest felt tighter than a track-runner's shoelaces. A horrid experience, wouldn't you say?
"C-Chris..." he wheezed out. "I-I can't...breathe..!"
"He's lost too much blood," Aviva concluded, pulling out her Creature Pod and calling the Tortuga. "Koki, Jimmy, what's taking so long? This is an emergency, we need you here now."
"Sorry," Koki spoke from her own Creature Pod. She was in the garage, loading the Createrra with things they would need. "We had to put more gas in the Createrra, and the tire was flat so we had to replace it. We're on our way, hold tight."
Aviva sighed as the device shut off. She looked back up at the brothers. Martin was desperately trying to take a breath, but only managed fruitless heaves and wheezes. Chris was panicking, scared tears running down his cheeks.
She hoped they'd get there soon.
After about ten minutes of pure chaos among the three, they heard the beep of their only car. Aviva and Chris looked up from the nearly suffocated Kratt brother to see the Createrra drive up and park a few feet away.
Koki and Jimmy rushed out, going to the back to retrieve the stretcher. They brought it to their injured teammate, lifting him up onto it. He was looking extremely pale, due to the loss of blood.
Speaking of blood, his bleeding was beginning to slow. You may think that would be a good thing. But you'd be wrong. Martin was running out of blood to bleed. It was a miracle he was even awake right now. A miracle no one asked for.
--
When they got Martin back to the Tortuga, the girls did all they could to make sure he wouldn't die on them. He had lost too much blood, and needed a transfer. Good thing they kept packets of O- blood, just for situations like this. They expected to have run ins with poachers.
Unluckily for the oldest Kratt brother, he couldn't be asleep for any of it. His head injury made it dangerous for him to fall asleep until it was taken care of. And because his chest wound was more severe and life threatening, that had to be cared for first. The sight of the blood made every alarm in his head go nuts and his stomach decided to take up gymnastics.
But through all of it, Chris never left his side. He stood there the entire two hours, holding his hand. He kept his attention off the blood the best he could, but there wasn't much he could do while his head was being treated.
"Okay," Aviva wiped the back of her hand over her forehead. "I think we're finally done. You can rest, now."
Martin let out a shuddering sigh of relief. He was so happy that was over. All the pain he'd felt before in the forest had been multiplied by ten while they were working, and now was nothing more than a dull ache. But his brain was fuzzy, and his eyelids felt like they had elephants pulling them closed.
"You'll have to stay in the infirmary for a few days," Koki told him. "You're on bed rest until we say otherwise. So no adventures, no risk-taking, and no Creature Power Suit."
"I don't think he has the energy for a Creature Power Suit, Koki," Chris smiled at her. He looked down at his brother. He had fallen asleep, way too tired from the day to stay awake any longer.
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psychopersonified · 4 years
Text
Who’s the brunette?
Part of the prequel series to "Are we ever going to talk about this?".
I'll post little snippets of their 'not dating' days in this series. Little events that draw them together and the intimacy they share in plain sight.
This particular snippet happens Monday after the Friday party in “Keep Calm. Dance On.”
------
“Oh 007, did you hear? There is the most unusual rumour going around. Seems someone thought they saw the Quartermaster leave last week’s party in an Aston Martin DB5? You wouldn’t know anything about this would you?”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday 8:30am - SIS HQ.
The lift doors open at Parking Level 2 to admit a well rested and impeccably put together Eve Moneypenny.
“Moneypenny, morning. How are you?” Bond says in greeting.
“007. You’re early,” she skips the greeting, her tone a little frosty as she gets into the lift and turns around to face the doors.
“So it’s 007 today? May I know what I’ve done to deserve it this time?” Bond knows enough about women to know that it is always his fault.
“IF you’re interested… someone I call a friend left me all alone at a party last Friday.”
Bond freezes... ah that. He’d completely forgotten. He drops his head in embarrassment. After all, It was Eve who convinced him to attend. A decision he was incredibly grateful to her for. He recalls the night and how he spent it in the company of a leggy brunette.  
“Ah… I must apologise. That was terribly ungentlemanly of me,” pause, he needs to get himself out of the doghouse, “How can I make it up to you?”
“Well, for starters, you might tell me who it was that caught your attention. So much so that you left a good friend high and dry?” She’s laying it on a bit thick, but where would the fun be otherwise?
“What makes you think it was a someone? It was an office party after all.”
Eve leans over to him, a hand reaching up towards Bond’s shoulder. He’s still wearing his outer coat, having come straight up from the parking garage. Her hand comes back with a strand of hair between her fingers; she holds it up in front of his eyes - it clearly isn’t his.
“Who’s the brunette?” She teases him.
Bond schools his face into a neutral expression looking straight ahead. Bloody spies and their deductive skills.
-Ding!- The lift announces its next stop on Ground Level. The lift doors open, revealing a small group of people waiting for the lift - including Q, R and Mark at the front.
Everyone squeezes in. The lift is packed tight, yet no one wants to take the second lift; a result of the lifts being notoriously slow during rush hours.
There is a chorus of polite greetings:-
“Good Morning.”
“Excuse me.”
“Pardon. Which level?”
“How’s it going?”
“Level 7 please. Thanks.”
There is some awkward shifting as the occupants arrange themselves according to who is going to alight first.
Q ends up standing in front of Bond, back to him.
Eve has a mischievous glint in her eyes. She still has the strand of hair between her fingers. So she lifts it and holds it up to the back of Q’s head. The colour and length is an exact match.
Bond slides his eyes towards her. He wants to smack her hand away. They are in a packed lift for Christssake. Eve’s little action catches R’s attention and she tilts her head thoughtfully at them. Eve shots her a meaningful look.
The lift dings their arrival at Level 3. Five people alight except for Bond, Eve, Q, R and Mark - they are headed for the Executive floor on Level 12 to their respective meetings.
The remaining occupants sigh in relief. They start moving apart to give each other more personal space. But before they can do that, six more SIS employees enter - making it worse than before.
“Hold the lift please! Thanks!” A -seventh- person calls just as the doors start to close. A breathless Accounts Department employee squeezes her way in while struggling to carry two cardboard boxes of files. Everyone has to politely shuffle closer to the back to make room.
Bond is forced all the way to the back corner of the lift, the hand rails digging into his back. Eve has to move to the other corner. He can’t help but roll his eyes in annoyance. Why couldn’t M see him later in the morning?
This leaves the Quartermaster on his side of the lift. Q also has to shift back but accidentally steps on Bond’s expensive Italian leather shoe and jolts away too quickly in apology - nearly losing his balance.
“Oh! My apologies—,” It comes out as a rushed whisper.
“—you’re alright.” Bond places his hands on Q’s waist to steady him. Q is wearing only a cardigan made from the softest cashmere over his dress shirt and tie. Bond can feel the warmth of the flesh underneath. He uses the slightest pressure to pull Q backwards into his personal space, so that the others can move in.
Q’s right shoulder blade makes contact with one of Bond’s pectorals. But the younger man makes no protest, on the contrary - unless Bond’s imagining it, he feels Q lean further into the touch. They are pressed close in the compact space, he can smell the fresh scent of Q’s soap and shampoo.
Maybe there is some good that comes from being in crowded lifts. The rest of the ride up feels like an eternity spent in awkward silence for everyone inside with the only distraction being the soft jazzy elevator music. It feels like the lift made a stop at every floor.
Bond does not remove his hands until the lift arrives at Level 12 where M’s office is located. They all alight. Bond and Moneypenny head directly to M’s office. The techies movie off to the conference room for the monthly joint Ops meeting.
Eve waits until she is alone with Bond just outside of her office to ask:
“Oh 007, did you hear? There is the most unusual rumour going around. Seems someone thought they saw the Quartermaster leave last week’s party in an Aston Martin DB5? You wouldn’t know anything about this would you?”
Busted. Yes, so he did spend the party stuck to the Quartermaster’s side. And yes, he did steal Q out for a post revelry kebab supper - which may have included a long stroll along the river after. Finally yes, he did make sure Q got to his doorstep at the end of the very late night/early morning, but only out of concern for his safety.
Bond considers his options.“Name your price.”
“What exactly are you implying? I’m offended that you’d think I’d stoop to blackmail—“ Eve places a hand over her heart in mock indignation, “—but I suppose since you do owe me an apology…” She bats her eyelashes at him.
She mulls over it, “There is this restaurant in Soho, it’s booked out for months. But I’m sure you have your ways around it. My family is in town next week.”
She unlocks the door to the office, letting them both in. “I’ll text you the details.”
“Consider it done.” Bond assures her courtly, he really was sorry about ditching her on Friday. Nevertheless, he is surprised at how easy he is being let off on this - when you consider how protective Eve can be over their Chief Boffin.
“Aren’t you going to warn me off?” Bond wonders aloud.
“Do I have to? It is still just a harmless game... isn’t it?” She searches his face for any indication otherwise, though she reckons she knows the answer even if Bond himself doesn’t know it yet.
He holds the door open for her. M arrives behind them cutting off any answer he might have.
———
Friday 4:30pm - SIS HQ
If Bond has to hear about North Korea again in the next 3 months, it would still be too soon. He had just finished an all day strategy conference with Mallory, 009 and their Korean Station Chief about how MI6 was going to extract their operatives embedded in the regime in the face of the recent crackdowns.
It is not that he’s being insensitive, the meeting is critical and he had played his part in contributing to the discussion and assessing the tactics available to them. It is just that both M and 009 have a tendency to prattle on (his opinion) and discuss ad nauseam every detail, while 007 prefers to… well, get on with it.
Unsurprisingly the meeting ran overtime and Bond is feeling peckish. And when his blood sugar runs low, his patience runs thin. At least this time, he had managed to behave long enough for the meeting to end.
It takes him 20 excruciating minutes to reach Q-Branch. It is Friday afternoon, and like any other civil service, MI6 lobbies and lifts are a hive of activity with most employees trying to wrap up for an early weekend.
Most of the time was spent waiting for the lifts, and then riding the lift, then letting people in and then out the lift - there has to be a better system to organise the lift service.
Bond is inordinately relived when he finally arrives at Q-Branch all the way in the basement floors of the building.
Once he’s through the doors, he makes a beeline for Q’s office nook and Q’s desk. The man is not around, but Bond helps himself with familiar ease. Bond pulls open the second drawer and retrieves a bar of protein snack from the stash in the drawer.
He is almost finished with the bar when he realises that Q has not returned to his desk and is nowhere to be seen on the work floor. Curious, he makes a circuit of the floor trying to be surreptitious.
Jamila catches him ‘not’ looking and puts him out of his misery. “He’s downstairs, in the Firearms Lab with 003,” she doesn’t bother asking if he is there on official business.
Bond tries not to look like he’s been caught, but manners win out and he attempts a casual, “...Thank you.” - his feet starting to carry him towards the main doors.
“Badge!” Jamila calls out to remind him.
Bond backtracks smoothly, heading to Q’s desk and that second drawer to grab his blasted employee ID badge that he keeps in there. He can get away without it on the upper floors, but the Lower Ground labs contain live ammunition and thus require extra authentication for security.
—-
The labs are a study of industrial utilitarian design - an amalgamation of concrete, steel and glass.
003 is easy to locate. Her stunning if scant evening gown incongruous in the surroundings. Bond can only see her from the back. She has one stiletto heel resting on something in front of her.
As he draws nearer, his viewing angle changes and he can see what or more accurately who her heel is propped up on.
Their Quartermaster is on one knee in front of her. The toes of her shoe resting on his thigh. The side slit of the dress is cut high and hides very little.
Q is adjusting her thigh holster, a specially designed and fabricated skin-coloured thing worn fairly high on the leg to make it less obvious. To improve stability, the holster is anchored with clips that connect directly to 003’s one piece undergarment.  
“Oh Q, the material is perfect - incredibly comfortable, but the fit needs to be tighter.” She provides him with feedback. When she looks up, she catches Bond in the reflection of a nearby glass wall - watching them with wide blue eyes.  
“Yes, right. There is an adjustment strap on the inside so all you have to do is… “ Q pulls at the tab - careful not to touch her skin in so much as he can, seeing that the tab is located near the inner thigh. 003 gathers her skirt up higher to allow him better access.
From Bond’s angle, their combined actions are grossly inappropriate.
“…pull this tab to adjust for the required fit. We’ve gone with the new hook-and-loop fasteners so they shouldn’t catch on most fabrics, even delicate ones. This should allow you to use it with any frock of your choice.“ Q explains still oblivious.
“How thoughtful of you Q. I don’t suppose you could make them in… lace trim?” She says to the top Q’s head, smirking into the refection, raising a perfect eyebrow at 007.
“We can make them in any colour or trim you’d like 003. Just let us know what you need. Please allow for a few weeks though, as the elastane base material is specially sent for.” Q looks up at her with a shy smile.
“Oh you spoil us Q. We never had such personalised service until you came along.” She coos down at him while she ran one hand lightly through his hair combing back his fringe while the other formed a hooked finger under his chin to tip his head up to her.
003 is wearing a self-satisfied grin. What a picture they made! Her deft manoeuvring had Q looking like the very picture of a besotted young man attending submissively to his object of infatuation.
She sees 007 in the refection clenching and unclenching his hands. Whoops…. she knows 007, having worked him with him over the years. They get along fine. But this new development is interesting. What is his problem anyway?
Perhaps it would be best to end this here for now.
“Well, thank you Quartermaster. I’d best not take up anymore of your time. Will it be alright if I stayed here to have a chat with 007?” She dismisses him politely, adjusting her skirt and removing her heel from his thigh.
“Oh, yes of course. Sure.” Q stands, brushing his trousers.
“Ah 007, I didn’t see you there—,” the sentence is cut off when Q catches Bond’s blazing blue eyes and dark expression and is confused, “D… did you need anything?”
Bond schools his expression back to neutral. “Not at the moment. Just need a quick word with 003. Meet you back upstairs?”
Q collects his tablet and nods his leave to both of the agents.
When Q is out the doors, 007 closes the distance between him and 003 - who to her credit is not cowed. Instead of stepping back, she steps sideways and the two double-0 agents circle each other for a few moments.
“Oh don’t look at me like that!” she finally says, exasperated with his posturing, also she was getting dizzy with the circling. They were friends, well as much as trained assassins with trust issues can be.
“You—,” she points a finger at him, “—need to learn how to share. You monopolised all of his time last Friday night! After that delicious display of his, I’d like to take him out clubbing and see what else is hiding under that cardigan wearing persona.” She confesses, but still annoyed at 007.
She makes a squeezing motion with her hands, a gesture usually reserved for when talking about cute animals, “He’s so adorable I want to stuff him in my pocket--,” then she indicates to her skin tight dress, “—if I had any.”
Bond is not moved. He feels like they are siblings negotiating playtime allotment with a favourite pet or toy. Well, he was an only child and he had never learnt to share.
“The rest of us would like to play too you know. Alec says—,” 003 nearly throws a tantrum.
“He’s not a plaything!” Bond’s vehement whisper surprises even him. Where did that come from?
“Pot. Kettle…” Comes her practiced reply. But something in his tone catches up to her. She studies him closer. Bond appears to be grappling internally with his own words.
-Oh.My.God- Can it be? 003 abandons her petulant tantrum. The adult slipping back into place.
“You’re not… playing anymore are you?” the question comes from a place of genuine interest.
No answer. Just a sullen 007 staring at his feet, hands in his pockets.
“Huh! Of all the people you choose...” She shakes her head at him.
Well then, there is only one thing left to do. She comes right up close to him, cups his face in her perfectly manicured hands, forcing him to look at her - then says with as much sisterly fondness as she could muster:-
“Don’t. Cock. It. Up.”
-------------------------
Note: If you liked this fic, there’s more like it on the blog. Including my take on a kidnapped Q. Enjoy!
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r0s3mm · 4 years
Text
The Tell // Stiles Stilinski
Welcome back! Summer school is killing me but writing this rewrite this thing is getting me through it ! 
Don’t hesitate to reblog, like, leave constructive comments, send feedback on what you’d like to read in the story, moments that might’ve happen to others but you’d like for it to happen to Stiles and Ella :) 
Stiles is a smooth bastard, I made him to still be the Stiles we all know and adore but like the only girl he knows how to talk to is Ella and he does it well so I made him take advantage of one of his talent (hi coach) 
General Masterlist
Series’ masterlist
Word count: approx. 7341
A/N: mentions of dead body, somewhat “graphic” description of a wound , slight ptsd? minor car accident, fluff, Stiles being somewhat of a smooth bastard. jax being a grade A asshole to my favorite dad (Noah), kate argent hurting Derek with a buzz buzz stick 
*****************************
Ella was working her first ever shift at the video rental store. She was being trained by a guy that’s been working there for years, even if in his opinion, “if you went there as a costumer once, you already know half the stuff” he had said to her when she had gotten there after school.
“Hey Leveque, there’s no more popped popcorn on the shelf at the front, is it in the back?” She asked the man fixing the light.
“Supposed to, if you can’t find it let me know.”  
She turned around from the counter and walked to the door that’d lead her to the back store. She looked through the shelves, picking up another few things they might need later on before seeing the box of popped popcorn a few levels higher. She stood on her tip toes and grabbed the box letting it fall on the floor, at the same time, the light flickered softly. She heard a loud thumping sound coming from the front of the store, worried that Leveque had fallen down the ladder she picked up her stuff and went back.
She saw that the light was still flickering and that the ladder was still in place.
“Can somebody help me find The Notebook?” She heard a voice say and being a few inches taller than the display stands she moved around to see Jackson. “Hello? Is anybody working here?” He shouted again.
She rolled her eyes before putting down her stuff and walking in front of him.
“You gotta be-“ He started to mutter as he walked in the aisle “Oh it’s you.” He said, slight disdain in his voice.
“Yeah, it’s me. Can I help you with something, Jackson?”
“Wow, I think it’s the first time my name’s come out of your mouth for the past seven years.” He chuckled while looking at the movies in front of him.
Gab looked down at the floor next to the ladder and saw a shoe, Leveque’s shoe. She saw Jackson walk towards her in the corner of her eye before she heard him gasp. She looked to where the boy’s eyes were and gasped loudly.
“Oh shit. Shit Leveque!” She said loudly looking at her (ex?) colleague. His back was leaning against the row of movies, body towards her, head tilted to the side, his throat slashed.
She felt hot tears come up in her eyes as Jackson suddenly walked back, walking into the ladder and making it fall, before hitting the light, shutting off all the lights in the store. Lights flickered on and off paired with the sound of some electrical buzzing. Jackson panted heavily as she watched him in shock. The man turned around slowly feeling a presence behind him, moving her body to the side, she followed his line of sight and heard growls and saw a pair of red eyes.
“Fuck Jackson run!” She said quietly as to not startle the beast. He looked at her, pushing her away so she could hide behind a display following her soon but went to the opposite side. His eyes were wide with fear, hears concentrated on the floor, at the older man she met a few hours before. She tried to focus on her breathing, knowing that the animal in the store was probably the alpha she heard Scott and Stiles talk about so much. She saw Jackson move forward trying to catch the alpha and she squeezed her eyes shut, whimpers stuck in her throat as she heard movement a few rows over.
Jackson quickly went back to his hiding place, jaw tightening and eyes closing as he tried to control his heartbeat. He blew out a short breath before his eyes connected with Gabriella’s. Jackson’s body shook and Gab’s mouth went over her mouth as dvd’s fell on the blonde’s head. Jackson looked back one last time before he felt the floor trembling. Gab looked back and saw the shelves falling down on each other. In an act of either courage or stupidity she stood up quickly and grabbed the man’s jacket pulling him with her to the other side, both falling on their fronts next to each other with how much adrenaline filled the small girl’s body. She hit her head on a display as they fell and groaned loudly when her small body smacked the carpeted floor.
Jackson looked at her with terrified eyes as they felt a large and terrifying presence behind them, the shadow of the alpha hiding them from the flashing flights. Its hand coming up behind Jackson’s neck and its claws going down his neck. Gab’s eyes were squeezed shut and her hands were in fists as they shook. As soon as it had arrived, it left, leaving the two teenagers on the floor breaths let out, grateful that they could actually breathe again. They heard the glass window shatter and a piercing scream break through the silence.
“Are- are you okay?” She whispered to Jackson her hand reaching up to hold his, making him flinch. “It’s okay, Jax, you’re okay.” She had said, his eyes closing in relief and at the familiarity of the girl he once called his best friend.
He nodded slowly before standing up, his body shaking as hers did too. They looked at each other without saying a word, the negative tension that used to be between them long gone.
“I’m gonna call the police, okay?” She asked to make sure it was okay to leave him alone for the duration of the call. He nodded and swallowed harshly before sitting at the cashier counter.
She dialed 911 before putting the phone to her hear.
“911, what’s your emergency?” She heard the familiar voice of one of the dispatchers.
“Hi Megan, it’s Gab, Stiles’ friend. Listen I am at Video 2C, at 23 hm-“ She said her voice shaking. “Gab, I know the location. Are there any injured people with you?” She asked urgently.
“Ye- yes. Leveque, the manager died. We were attacked by-“ She tried remembering what had been told to the the civilians. “I think, it was a puma.” She whimpered.
“Okay, Sherriff Stilinski is close to your location, paramedics are on their way.” She said with a reassuring voice. “Is there anyone else with you? Are you hurt?”
“I’m bleeding from the head a little, Jackson Whittemore’s with me and hm Lydia Martin’s out I think” She stuttered.
The dispatcher kept her on the line until the paramedics arrived. A few minutes earlier, Noah was made aware of the incident.
*******************
“Unit one, do you copy?” Another dispatcher called.
“Sorry.” Stiles went to pick up the radio, only for his father to send him a look.
“Unit one, copy.”
“Got a report of a possible one-eight-seven with one fatality”
“Oh, no way!” Stiles said excitedly before his dad sent him another look, shutting him up.
******************* After the paramedics finished looking at her for any more injuries, they put an approximation dressing on her forehead, cleaning up the little blood that had gathered around it. Her and Lydia were sitting next to each other, wrapped up in blankets as Jackson argued with the paramedic. A familiar patrol car arrived, and she almost cried at the sight of Noah Stilinski. He got out of his car and made a quick perimeter check before his gaze fell on the young girl, he had known for fourteen years. She didn’t notice at first her best friend that was sitting in the car and he didn’t notice her either as she was hidden by the paramedic, he only saw Jackson and Lydia.
After speaking a few words to other deputies Noah walked over to her and Jackson and held her in his arms in comfort while talking to Jackson, protecting her in his large coat.
“Why the hell can't I just go home? I'm fine.” Jackson argued loudly.
“I hear ya, but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard. They just wanna make sure you don't have a concussion.”
“What part of "I'm fine" are you having a problem grasping? Okay, I want to go home.” Jackson continued condescendingly.
“And I understand that—”
“No, you don't understand that, which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum-wage rent-a-cop like you! Okay, now, I want to go home!” Jackson screamed like a little boy throwing a temper tantrum.
“Jackson, enough.” Lydia finally spoke up before he dragged her to her car.
“Oh, whoa! Is that a dead body?” Stiles said, getting out of the car.
“Everybody back up. Back up.”
The Sherriff gently pulled the girl away from him to look back at his son. Stiles literally stopped breathing when he saw blue eyes. Blue eyes he knew by heart, that he could read by heart and at this moment they screamed for help. He scrambled out of the car calling the brunette’s name.
“Ella? Ella?” He said loudly, calling out to her as the girl turned around from the body on the stretcher.
“Stiles...” She finally cried as she ran into his arms.
Her body collided with his with so much force he stumbled a little but held her tighter. He was speechless. Her hair was in a loose and undone ponytail due to what had happened to her. She looked up, eyes and cheeks stained with tears, but his eyes locked on the thin bandage on the right side of her forehead. His hands went from around her back to her neck, holding her head up as he made sure nothing else had broken her skin.
“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, hazel eyes connecting with grayish blue ones. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut once again, relieving the alpha standing over her.
He pulled her to him and pressed his lips to the top of her head.
“You’re okay, now. You’re all good. I’ve got you.” He whispered to him as he sent his dad a look before walking them to the car’s back seat. He opened the door making sure she got in okay before following behind her.
Over an hour later, the girl had fallen asleep her head on the boy’s lap as he gently caressed her hair, her body spasmed from time to time, making her close her fists even tighter. After finishing up, Sherriff walked back to the car and got in, filled paperwork about the incident before starting the car which woke up the girl. She gasped before standing up quickly.
“Hey, hey you’re okay” Stiles said, holding her close to him and clearing out her face from strands of hair that had fallen in her light slumber.
“Are we driving you to your house, Gaby or are you coming home with us?” Noah asked as he drove into the street.
“My mother left this morning for a work trip I guess, but- you can drive me home if you want.” She said eyes filling up with tears at the thought of being alone.
“In this case, we’ll go to your house, pick up some clothes and we’ll go back home. Does that sound good?” He asked and she nodded a small smile pulling at her lips.
Stiles smiled before planting a kiss against her temple. Sherriff smiled, seeing them in his mirror.
*******************
While Ella was in her room packing a small overnight bag to sleep at the Stilinski’s, Stiles waited for her in the room’s door frame, texting Scott about the incident he apparently already knew about. The girl had changed quickly in leggings and a sweater that belonged to her father before she turned around a timid smile on her face as she made a noise.
“You ready to go?” Stiles asked lifting his head from his phone, she nodded before going under the arm he had lifted in the air so she could tuck into.
*******************
Arriving at the Stilinski’ house she went up to Stiles’ bedroom where she had stayed more than a dozen times. The bathroom always ready with a toothbrush, towels, a Mets robe that Claudia once wore, Noah and Stiles lending it to her whenever she stayed. She brushed her teeth with the lights opened, all the lights in the room were on, the bedside table lamp, the ceiling lamp, the reading lamp on the desk, the ones in the bathroom.
When Stiles walked in, his eyes were temporarily blinded from the contrast from the dark hallway.
“You all settled in?” He asked walking in to stand in the bathroom door. She nodded, spit and rinsed her mouth before making her tongue pass over her clean teeth.
She breathed out as she turned off the bathroom lights, hand hesitating over the switch for a few seconds before she pulled it down, the bathroom becoming dark. She slowly made her way through two other lights that she shut off leaving the bedside table lamp beside the bed. Stiles followed her, in silence, giving her the space, she silently asked when she stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, opening it a few minutes later when her face was washed, and she had taken off her bra.
“Do you want to go to sleep now?” He asked, looking at the clock next to his bed, it read a little past midnight.
“Yes” She croaked out, voice tired from the few minutes of crying she did when she locked herself in the bathroom.
He grabbed her hands before putting them around this neck, hugging her for a minutes before he made them walk to the bed. He undid the covers, Ella helping him put the pillows correctly. She laid down in the bed and he followed shortly after making sure to leave a few inches between them, which she completely ignored when she wrapped her arm around his mid-section and burrowed her head in his neck. Both of their hearts beating hard and fast.
They fell asleep shortly after, but at 3:01, sleep left her body and she spent the rest of the night looking at Stiles’ upturned nose, soft and pale skin.
When he woke up at 6:30, she was tracing the moles that littered his face. The ones close to his mouth, the lighter one on the side of his chin, the ones tracing his earlobe, then he moved, his shirt collar being pulled down and she saw new ones, one on his collarbone, one at the base of his neck ...
Stiles made a noise as he woke up, not fully understanding the light weight on his left side. He looked down, only seeing bright blue eyes looking up at him.
“G’morning” He mumbled as his free hand rubbed his face.
“Hi” She said soflty, voice still groggy with sleep.
“D’you sleep well?” He asked when she sat up.
“For what I could actually sleep, yes.” She said before untying her long brown hair. His hand reached up and turn a curl around his pointer finger.
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, not that I know of. I just had a lot on my mind.” She said turning around to face him, her legs were crossed, and he draped an arm over her thigh as he was still laying down.
“Do you want to talk about it?”  She nodded and he sat up.
“There’s not much to tell honestly. I was in the back while Leveque was fixing the light, Jackson came in and then I heard a sound-“ She said stopping halfway, eyes lost on the pillow. He put a hand on her knee in support and she got out of her trance and smiled. “And so, I went back, thinking he might have fallen down the ladder. I saw Jackson first, then the ladder, but Leveque was nowhere to be seen so I kind of went up to Jackson, asked him if I could help or something and that’s when he saw Leveque. Then everything happened so fast, one second we were talking, the next we were both hiding and seconds later I pulled Jackson to me bec- because the shelves would’ve probably hurt him very badly.” She said in a small and quiet voice, just above a whisper. “After that, the Alpha, that beast came over us and we were laying there, I think it may have touch Jackson or something...” Stiles wanted to interrupt her, to ask why the alpha would go to Jackson, but he kept his mouth shut. “Then it just left SO fast. After I kind of left my own body and called the police.” She said finishing her story and looking at him, eyes distant.
“Hey kids it’s time to-”  Noah walked in seeing the two teenagers sitting on the bed. “How are you feeling this morning Gaby?”
“I think I’m feeling better, Noah, thank you.” She said simply.
After that, in silence Stiles grabbed clothes and went into the bathroom to shower, while she laid in the bed to wait her turn. She stood up when she heard the water stop and mechanically made his bed. She turned around as the door opened. Stiles ruffling his buzzcut with a dark towel.
“You can go in” He said gesturing to the door. She grabbed her bag and walked into the steamy room. Stiles’ heart stopped quickly when he noticed that his bed was made. A soft smile pulling at his lips, Gabriella James and Claudia Stilinski had a lot of things in common, taking care of the Stilinski boys was high on both of their lists.
After she came out, they had breakfast downstairs with Stiles’ father. Fifteen minutes before their first class, Stiles and Ella got into the Jeep, driving towards the school.
*******************
The first thing that happened when they got to school, was Ella being caught in a bear hug by Scott in the school’s parking lot.
“Are you, okay? I am so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.” He mumbled his face in her hair.
“I’m okay Scotty, it’s just a scratch” she said half hugging him back as one of her hands was interlaced with Stiles’. She pulled away from the tan boy, Stiles stepping next to them and her free hand went lightly over the white bandage close to her hair line. “I’ll be fine.” She said looking at Stiles, both of them smiling to each other.
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“About last night, the alpha, like touched or like almost touched Jackson... I don’t know why, and I couldn’t see clearly but... yeah” Gab said eyes locked on the asphalt beneath. A shaky breath left her lips and she lifted her head up, facing the school.
“So, are we going in or what?” She said before walking from the parking lot to the main entrance.
The boys looked at each other in surprise before they followed behind her.
When they walked into the school, a colorful blur of pink and red birthday balloons appeared gaining Ella’s attention.
“Allison, is it your birthday?” She asked the girl quietly, gaging from her reaction to the balloons that she did not want it to be known.
“Yes but please don’t tell-“  She started saying but was interrupted by a boy with shaggy brown hair.
“Is today your birthday?” Scott asked his girlfriend eagerly, making Gab take a step back looking at them.
“No, no. Uh, no.” She said hoping he had not seen the balloons. “...I mean, yes. Please don't tell anybody. I don't even know how Lydia found out.”
“Why wouldn't you tell me?”
“Because I don't want people to know... Because... I'm seventeen...”
“You're seventeen?” Scott said a little bit too loudly.
“That's the reaction I'm trying to avoid.” She said, frowning slightly, body turned to her locker.
“Why? I mean, I-I totally get it. Uh, you had to repeat a year because of all the moving around, right?” He said and she turned towards him with large surprised eyes. She closed her locker and kissed him.
“...What was that for?”
“For literally being the first person to ever make the correct assumption. Everybody's always like, "What, did you get held back?" "Did you ride the short bus?" Uh, "Did you have a baby?"” She said, making Gab laugh quietly as Stiles waited for her to get to Harris’ class.
“That's what you hear on your birthday?”
“Oh, yeah. All day long.”
“Then... what if we got out of here?” Scott said trying to be silent but Gabriella was close enough to hear, gasp and turn around, hand over her mouth in mocking surprise making Scott roll his eyes.
“Skip class?”
“Yeah! The whole day.”
“Well, you're asking someone who's never skipped one class to bail out the entire day, and I don't—"
“No, see, that's perfect! If you get caught, they'll go easy on you.”
“Well, what if you get caught?”
“Let's... try not to think about that.” Scott said sending a look to his friend as him and Allison snuck out of the school.
A few minutes after the start of Gab’s least favorite teacher’s class, Harris started to make announcement.
“Just a friendly reminder-- parent-teacher conferences are tonight! Students below a C-average are required to attend. I won't name you, because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment.” The teacher said, voice lifeless and monotone as he walked between the stations. “Has anyone seen Scott McCall?” He asked looking at Ella and Stiles, she was writing down notes and he was highlighting everything in his manual.
“Hey, Jackson-- if you need to leave early for any reason, you let me know.” He said the teenager walked in late. “Same goes for you Ms. James.” He said, the girl sending the teacher a tight-lipped smile, avoiding his gaze.
“Everyone, start reading chapter nine.” Harris said walking towards the board. “Mr. Stilinski try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's chemistry, not a coloring book.” He said, a condescending tone to his voice. Ella stopped her writing to look at her friend, highlighter cap stuck between his lips.
Stiles whole demeanor changed, he looked at the teacher in irritation before lifting his head towards the ceiling and blowing up the marker cap before catching it in his mouth. Ella looked at him with a surprised expression and another Stiles couldn’t quite guess, he simply sent her a smug look.
“Smooth bastard.” She muttered as she put her head down, finishing the homework due for her second period.
“Hey, Danny-- can I ask you a question?” Stiles suddenly spoke up leaning next to the Lacrosse player.
“No.”
“Well, I'm going to anyway. Um, did Lydia show up in your homeroom today?”
“No.”
“Can I ask you another question?”
“Answer's still no.” Danny said sighing.
“Does anyone know what happened to Video 2*c last night?” He asked trying to learn what Jackson and Lydia saw.
“He wouldn't tell me.”
“But he's your best friend.”
“So? Ask your girlfriend, she was there.” He said pointing to Gab, her head snapping up and a blush being added to her pale face.
“One more question...” Stiles said awkwardly, leaning even closer to the tan skinned boy.
“What?” Danny snapped, exasperated.
“Do you find me attractive?” Stiles asked before falling off his stool making Ella and other students snicker while some sent his death glare, Harris simply looked at the boy with utter disgust.
*******************
Later, in the locker room, Jackson was standing in front of the mirror after taking a shower. His hand hesitantly went up and halfway around his neck to the claw mark that lined the back of it. Other players and students that worked out were in the room, making it steamy from the hot showers. A loud clanking sound made from a locker door closing made Jackson jump slightly, his nerves on fire. He went to his locker, put on spray on deodorant before closing the door, in the steam two red spots glowed attracting his eyes. Jackson started to shake, images from the night before going through his mind and he backed up, breathing heavily. He jumped again from relief when a player came toward him, red lights coming from his earbuds. He stopped and looked at Jackson strangely, the blonde let out a breath before gasping when he turned and saw Derek Hale, making him back up in the white lockers.
“I-I don't know where Scott is...” Jackson said, shaking and eyes filled with fear.
“I'm not here for Scott. I'm here for you.” Derek walked closer.
“Wh-wh-why me? I-I didn't do anything.”
“No, but you saw something, didn't you?”
“No, I didn't-I didn't see anything.”
“What was it, hmm? An animal? A mountain lion?” Derek was standing less than a foot away from the teenagers.
“I didn't see anything. I swear. I'm-I'm not lying.”
“Then calm down and say it again.”
“Say what? That I'm not lying?”
“Tell me that you didn't see anything. Slowly.”
“I didn't... see anything... I'm not lying.” Jackson said while Derek listened in on his beating heart. Heart that was pumping blood too quickly for someone who was telling the truth.
“One more thing...” Derek grabbed the top of his head and pulled it forwards.  “You should really get that checked out”
*******************
Ella waited for Stiles outside of his biology class, she looked up from her book when she heard the loud voice of her best friend who did not see her when he came out. She walked quickly to join him and grabbed the straps from his bag. He looked down and smiled at her as he mouths Scott while pointing to the phone.
“What?” Scott said over the phone.
“Finally! Have you been getting any of my texts?”
“Yeah, like, all nine million of them...”
“Do you have any idea what's going on? Lydia is totally MIA, Jackson looks like he's got a time bomb inserted in his face, another random guy's dead, and you have to do something about it!”
“Like what?”
“Something!!!” Stiles insisted as Ella rolled her eyes.
“Okay, I'll deal with it later.” Scott said before hanging up.
“Later? Sco-? Hello?” He brought the phone’s microphone closer to his mouth. “He hung up.” He said looking upset as he looked at Ella.
“You’ll be fine. You’ve got me!” She said, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree. Her arms were raised above her head in enthusiasm. “Yeaaaah for Ella!” She whispers yelled, he looked at her, her smile mirroring on his face and he tucked her into his arm.
“C’mon, let’s go” He said leading them towards the school’s exit.
“Where are we going?” She asked hiking up her bag’s strap on her shoulder.
“Lydia’s” He muttered as they walked to the jeep, she rolled her eyes in annoyance and huffed out a breath.
*******************
Stiles parked the car in front of a large brick house. Gab hadn’t been inside for years. The small girl opened the door and jumped out of the Jeep before putting her hands in her coat’s jacket. Stiles quickly walked up to the door and knocked.
“Hi Mrs. Martin! I’m Stiles and this is-” Stiles started but was interrupted when the woman grabbed the teenager in her arms.
“Oh, Gaby! It’s been so long. Look at you, so beautiful.” Nathalie said pulling away from the teenager and cupping her face in her hands.
“Hi, Nathalie. Hmm, we’re here to see Lydia? I was there last night, and I wanted to make sure she was okay.” The young girl muttered anxiously tangling her hands together.
“Yeah sure” The woman said, opening the door further.
*******************
“Honey, Gaby and Stiles are here to see you.” Nathalie Martin said to her daughter as the tree were standing at the teenager’s door.
“Oh, hi Gaby!” The strawberry blonde said before looking next to the girl and frowning “Wait, what the hell is a "Stiles?"” Her words dragging into each other.
“She took a little something to ease her nerves. You can-you can go in.”
“Thanks.” The brunette girl said as she walked in the room. She followed Stiles in, sitting at the end of the bed, Stiles sitting awkwardly between the two girls.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was just making sure you were okay.” Gabriella said, grabbing Lydia’s hand and joining their hands on Stiles’ lap.
“Why?”
“Because we were worried about you today. How are you feeling?” She said finger pointing between the two.
“I feel... fantastic.” She enunciated, Stiles’ eyes focusing on the giraffe sitting on the bed side table.
“Oh. What—" Stiles said picking up the prescription bottle next to the giraffe. “I bet you can't say, uh, "I saw Susie sitin' in a shoe-shine shop" ten times fast.”
“I saw shuzy— I shaw—” Lydia stopped and focused on an invisible spot on the floor. “I saw...”
“What? Lydia, what did you see?” Gab pressed, suddenly more concerned about what the red head had seen.
“Something...”
“Something... like a mountain lion?” Stiles suggested, leaning carefully towards the girl so he wouldn’t startled her.
“A mountain lion...” She nodded her head.
“Are you sure you saw a mountain lion, or are you just saying that because that's what the police told you?”
“A mountain lion...” She repeated.
“What's this?” Stiles asked as he picked up the stuffed toy.
“A mountain lion...”
“Okay, you're so drunk...” Gab said before standing up ready to leave.
“Oh!” Stiles almost yelped as the girl’s head fell on his lap.
“Well, I'm gonna... go... Uh, We’ll let you get back to the whole post-traumatic-stress thing...” Gab said, trying to make Stiles stand up.
“Mmm... stay...”
“M-me? Stay? You want me to stay?” Stiles said, not standing up anymore.
“Yes, please... stay...Please, Jackson...” The girl said desperately before she fell back behind him.
“And... we're done here.” Gab stated a little bit annoyed.
“You want me to get that?” Stiles gestured to the beeping phone, signaling a text message just got in. “It's a text. I don't know how to—” He continued, tapping on the screen before a video started playing. In it, the alpha was breaking through the door, eyes bright red and skin leathery and dark. Hearing the sound startled Gabriella and she leaned over Stiles as he played it again.
“Yeah no wonder “She took a little something to ease her nerves”, have you looked at that?” She said imitating the adult.
Stiles pocketed the phone, stood up and left. Gabriella’s eyes were round and wide in shock.
“Stiles! Wait!” She said before walking after him.  
******************* When they had gotten to Stiles’ house, the boy ran upstairs, the brunette right behind him and he put the phone containing the evidence of werewolf existence on his desk. Stiles had been staring at it for the past 15 minutes conflicted on whether he should delete it or not, leaving messages and voicemails to Scott.
“Hey, it's me again. Look, I found something, and I don't know what to do, okay? So, if you could turn your phone on right now, that'd be great! Or else, I'll kill you. Do you understand me? I'm gonna kill you. And I'm too upset to come up with a witty description about how exactly I'm gonna kill you, but I'm just gonna do it, okay? I'm gonna-- ugh! Goodbye.” He hung up, frustration filling his body as he threw his cellphone on his bed next to Gabriella, before sitting back down on his desk chair. “God!”
A knock at the door made him jump and groan at the same time while Gab laughed quietly. The sheriff dressed in civilian clothing sent a wave to the girl laying on his son’s bed before looking at his son hesitantly.
“Please tell me I'm gonna hear good news at this parent-teacher thing tonight.”
“...Depends on how you define "good news."”
“I define it as you getting straight-A's with no behavioral issues.” He replied not humoring his son.
“...You might wanna rethink that definition.” Stiles’ face crunched up as he played with a lip balm.
“Enough said.” The adult said before leaving the room sending a knowing wink to the girl.
Both teenagers looked at each other, Ella shaking her head before letting it fall between her two arms.
“Come on, Scott. Where the hell are you?”
Stiles had been staring at Lydia’s phone for, what seemed like forever when he picked it up, pulled up the video, hesitated between deleting it or keeping it. Deciding on the first option, he confirmed the action before letting the phone fall on the desk as a huff left his breath.
“You good?” Gab asked, concerned for her friend when she saw him so upset.
“Yeah.” He muttered before laying down next to her.
*******************
At the animal clinic, Deaton was walking around with his cell phone trying to reach his only employee.
“Hey, Scott. It's me again. I'm just calling to make sure that everything's okay. You were supposed to be here an hour ago. Maybe you forgot. Well, whatever it is, just give me a call and let me know that everything's okay. All right. Thanks.”
“Sheriff Stilinski...” Deaton said, his back turned to the Sherriff.
“Listen, I hate to bother you, but, uh, I'm having a bitch of a time getting a consensus on what this is we're dealing with.”
“I'm really flattered you've come to me for help, but, like I said before, I'm no expert.”
“But you were pretty certain the other day about our attacker being a mountain lion.”
“That's right.”
“I wanna show you something. We got a little lucky here. Uh, the video store didn't have any cameras, but a security camera that was watching another parking lot happened to grab a few frames. Take a good look at our mountain lion.” Noah said getting out a few pictures. “Here's another.”
“It's interesting...” Deaton muttered as Stilinski gave him another one.
“Actually, uh, this is the interesting one...” He said, the camera had captured a man, walking on two legs, and not some animal that was supposed to be walking on four.
“I see what you mean.”
“I've never seen a mountain lion do that.”
“Can't say I have, either. You've got a problem here.”
“My first instinct was it was a bear, but bears don't walk on two legs.”
“No, they drop to all fours.” Deaton confirmed the Sherriff’s thought.  “Look, like I said, you really need an expert here.” Deaton pressed, seemingly nervous.
“Yeah, yeah, but... could this still be a mountain lion?”
“I'm sorry. I've got a sick Doberman that needs my attention.” Deaton changed the subject pointing to a door after hearing a dog howl and bark.
“No other ideas?”
“I'm sorry. Really, I wish I could help you, but I've got a sick—"
“Yeah, dog. I heard you.” Noah said, his tone short and slightly suspicious. “Thanks for humoring me again” He sent the vet a fake smile as he exit the clinic.
*******************
At Beacon Hills’ high school, parents after parents walked in and out of their kids’ teachers’ classes for Parents/Teachers meeting.
“Jackson's a highly motivated student. In fact, I'd describe him as "unusually driven."” Harris said, his words could be perceived as a teacher concerned about his student, but his face, eyes and tone held no emotions.
“Yeah, we were hoping he might ease up on himself a little. He's always been real hard on himself. It's just, you know, something we assumed was an effect of him being adopted.” Jackson’s says seeming a little bit uncomfortable.
“I think I understand. He's never met his biological parents?”
“Yeah, that's right. It's the need to please, the overachieving, the desire to make someone proud... someone he's never even met.” Mr. Whittemore said, eyes sad.
“Something certainly seems to have re-calibrated his desire for achievement several notches higher. Not to be blunt about it, but he seems almost obsessed.” Harris finished darkly.
“Let me tell you, there's plenty to say about Lydia.” Mrs. Ramsey started cheerfully.
“Did I not predict this?” Mr. Martin said sighing smugly.
“Here we go! Total nuclear meltdown, as usual.” Nathalie said exasperated.
“What is it? Her grades? Concentration issues? Erratic behavior?” The man said.
“I'm not the one who told her she had to choose who she wants to live with! As if that wouldn't warp a sixteen-year-old girl.” Nathalie said, wanting the best for her daughter.
“Just tell us what the problem is.” Mr. Martin requested from the teacher.
“I wasn't aware that there was a problem. Academically, Lydia's one of the finest students I've ever had. Her AP scores push her GPA above a 5.0. I'd actually like to have her IQ tested. And socially, she displays outstanding leadership qualities. I mean, she's a real leader.” Mrs. Ramsey said looking at both parents.
“Stiles, that's right...” Coach said to Noah placing the student to the name. “I thought Stiles was his last name.” He semi-asked, confused.
“His last name is Stilinski." Noah confirmed.
“You named your kid "Stiles Stilinski?"”
“No, that's just what he likes to be called.” Noah said, patience running thin.
“Oh. Well, I like to be called "Cupcake."” Coach mutters going through his papers.  “What is his first name?”
Noah, clearly irritated by Bobby Finstock gave him a stern look pointing at his son’s file on the desk, where only Stiles' last name was visible. Coach pulled out the file and gaped at it when he read the full name on the label.
“Wow, that is a form of child abuse! I don't... I don't even know how to pronounce that.” Bobby said picking up the file a turning it around.
“It was his mother's father's name.”
“Wow. You must really love your wife.”
“Yeah, I did.” Sherriff said grimly.
“...Well, this just became incredibly awkward.”
“Hey, what do you say we get to the conference part of this conference, Cupcake?” Noah approaches the teacher’s desk.
“I like your thinking. So! Stiles. Great kid. Zero ability to focus. Super smart. Never takes advantage of his talents.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, for his final question on his midterm exam, he detailed the entire history of the male circumcision.”
“Well, I mean, it does have... historical significance, right? I mean—” He said not having an explanation for his son’s actions.
“I teach economics.” Coach deadpanned.
“Aw, crap.”
“Lately, Scott's mind has been somewhere else... as has his body. Personally, I think it may have something to do with his home situation.” Adrian Harris said softly, trying to not show his judgment.
“Oh, well, personally, I'm not sure what you mean by "home situation..."'”
“Uh, specifically, the lack of an authority figure...” The teacher hesitated.
“Yeah, I'm the authority figure, so...” Melissa challenged the teacher.
“Sorry. Allow me to clarify-- I mean the lack of a male authority figure.”
“Oh. Well, trust me, we're much better off without him in the picture.” Melissa avoids Harris’ gaze by sending another quick text to her son.
“Well, does Scott feel the same way?” He questions.
“Yes. I think so.” She paused before taking a short breath. “...I hope so.”
“But he's going through some difficult changes. He just needs a little extra attention, a guiding hand through this crucial stage of his development.”
“Allison Argent. An incredibly sweet girl, and quick to adjust, despite all the moving around...” She said making Allison’s parents look at each other.
“We know it's hard on her, but, uh... it's a necessary evil.” Chris said awkwardly.
“Necessary or not, I'd be prepared for some... how do I put this...?”
“Rebelliousness?” Chris suggested.
“We appreciate the concern, but we have a great relationship with our daughter-- very open and honest.” Victoria Argent said, a little bit tense.
“I'm happy to hear that. And let her know that I hope she's feeling better.”
“Oh, she wasn't in class?” Mr. Argent asked.
“Oh, she wasn't in school. I checked with the office.” Mrs. Ramsey said, sending a pointed look at the parents.
“I’m sorry I could not be there physically Bobby” Gabby’s mother, Sara, said over the phone.
“No problem Mrs. James” Coach said, his cellphone on speaker as he leaned on his elbows. “So, Gabriella, sister of great lacrosse player Clyde James Jr.”
“Yep, that is her.” Sara said sucking in a breath.
“Ok so Gabriella, academically, is doing very well mostly A’s and B’s, she’s not participating much in school’s club or sports’ teams other than that she is sociable in class especially with McCall and Stilinski.”
“Yeah, those three attached at the hip.”  
“I’m sorry to talk about this, but she seems to have gone through the rough patch that followed her father’s death. I assume everything’s good at home?” Coach asked, honestly concerned.
“As far as I know yes. When I’m at home she is mostly at her friends’. We don’t get to talk that often”
“Whenever you see her, do you feel like something’s changed in her behavior?”
“Not really know. We mostly do our things on our sides. I have faith in her, completely.”
“When you are away for work, who takes care of her? Is she in a stable environment?”
“Mostly Melissa McCall and the Sherriff. I trust them. I think it may be a more stable environment than our house.” She ended the conversation shortly after.
*******************
Gab received a text from Scott later than night, him demanding that they call him back, as soon as humanly possible. Ella woke up Stiles that had fallen asleep an hour before while she read a book he had in his bookcase.
“M. Wake up” She said softly, her hands shaking his shoulders. “M, Scotty wants us to call him back, says he has something important to tell us.” She said sitting on his back.
“m’sleep” He mumbled; face squished into his pillow.
“Come on.” She whined laying down completely on his back arms wrapping around his torso with difficulty.
Stiles suddenly turned around; Ella must have blacked out for a moment because seconds later she was still laying on Stiles, but they were face to face.
“Hi” He said, voice groggy with sleep.
“Hi” She said, a smile on her lips.
She sat up, not thinking of the position it would leave them in and grabbed Stiles’ phone from the bedside table.
“Call him. He said he wants to talk to you.” She says while Stiles checks his phone and sees 12 missed phone calls.
“Yeah okay. First c’mere.” He said getting her hair out of her face and tugging her to his chest.
After a few minutes of hugging Stiles, Ella pulled away just enough that she was hovering him, leaning on her forearms and legs tangled together. Stiles “reflexively” put his hands on her hips.
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“You gotta call him. It seemed important.” She whispered, their lips almost touching.
“Maybe, but I don’t wanna, right now.” He said, eyes going back and forth between her blue eyes and her lips.
“Stiles...” She picked up the cellphone, dialed Scott’s number and handed it to him.
While Scott and Stiles talked about what had happened in the school’s parking lot, Ella had decided to move off of Stiles’ lap and sit next to him.
“What do you mean my dad got hit by a car?” He asked, voice angry, rarely hearing him really angry Ella turned around worried about the boy’s father. “Scott, where were you?” Stiles’ eyes went around his room before falling on the girl sitting on his bed. “Helping Allison, of course.” He said, the tone of his voice was dry. “Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Is your dad okay?” She asked him as he hung up.
“Yeah, nothing bad from what Scott said.” He sighed, head resting in his hands. “Scott and I really gotta have a talk...” He muttered as he laid back in his bed, bringing the girl with him and shutting the light off.
*************************
Taglist: @bisexualprinxexx​
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tw-anchor · 4 years
Text
01. Lycanthropy
Anchor
Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Reader)
Episode: 1x01; Wolf Moon
Word Count: 7,177
Warning(s): Mature language, dead body
Author’s Note: Welcome to the first chapter of Anchor. I hope you enjoy this rewrite of Teen Wolf and my original character, Olivia. Reblog and like!
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Masterlist in Profile Description
Olivia shuffled around in her closet, trying to find the perfect scarf that went along with her outfit. Today was the first day back to school after winter break and, according to Lydia, they had to look better than any of the other girls that went to their school. Personally, Olivia didn’t see the big deal in trying to stay at the top of the social food chain at Beacon High, but she definitely didn’t want to upset her cousin. So, she quickly grabbed a plaid scarf and walked out of her closet, setting it on her bed to put on after she styled her hair.
She had already curled her brunette locks into waves and was wrapping the scarf around her neck when Lydia walked into her room, hardly bothering to knock on the door.
“You’re going with the green puffer vest?” Lydia asked, disapproval heavy in her voice.
Olivia fluffed her curls so they laid nicely against her vest. “I like it.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. “Normally it would be fine, but it’s the first day back, Liv,” she sighed. “How are you going to keep your spot on top if you’re wearing something so simple?”
“Frankly, Lyds, I couldn’t care less about the people we hang out with, except for Danny and Jackson,” Olivia confessed, slinging her leather satchel over her shoulders while making sure she had everything she needed for a day at school. She turned her cobalt-blue eyes to her cousin. “And I know you don’t, either.”
“I’m not dignifying that with a response,” Lydia huffed, whipping around to leave Olivia’s bedroom. “Let’s go.”
By the time they were both sliding into Lydia’s Beetle, their little argument was over.
“What classes are you taking this semester?” Olivia asked as Lydia pulled out of their driveway and started toward the high school.
“The usual,” Lydia shrugged. “Unfortunately, Mandarin was full, so I settled with Latin.”
Olivia knew her cousin was a genius but she wondered if Lydia ever got exhausted trying to learn as much as she could. Olivia did—she usually grew tired of school around the end of each semester—but Lydia kept going and going. It made sense, though, Lydia loved to be smarter than everyone around her.
“What about you?”
Olivia cleared her throat, suddenly self-conscious about the classes she was taking. “I got into Calculus,” she said quietly. “World History II, Chem…Advanced Spanish.”
“Advanced Spanish?” Lydia looked away from the road for a brief second to make sure she heard Olivia right. “I thought you only had to do two classes for Spanish. Why didn’t you choose a different language?”
“I don’t know,” Olivia shrugged.
The truth was, Olivia simply wanted to keep taking Spanish classes. When her cousins, Derek and Laura, checked in on her over winter break, they mentioned that their family was fluent in Spanish. Olivia wasn’t quite at that level yet and she wanted to make that side of her family proud, even if most of them were dead. She had a duty to the Hale name, even if she didn’t use it.
Lydia hummed at Olivia’s response, looking like she didn’t quite approve. “You should take Latin next year, then.”
Olivia stared out her window, mentally praising the fact that they had arrived at school. She loved Lydia but she acted like an overbearing mother sometimes. “Sure.”
Lydia parked in the empty spot that no one dared to leave their car, and they both exited the vehicle. After checking her phone, Lydia turned to Olivia, “Jackson and Danny are already in the building.”
“Let’s go then.”
-
-
Stiles paced impatiently, his feet moving his body back-and-forth over two squares of sidewalk in front of the school, as he waited for Scott. His best friend had sent him a concerning message when he woke up, and Stiles was eager to see the injury Scott had sustained.
The night before, Stiles’ dad, Sheriff Noah Stilinski, had gotten a call and—of course—Stiles overheard what it was about. He was eager for an adventure and half a dead body in the preserve seemed like something worthwhile. Needing his partner in crime, Stiles retrieved Scott from his house and they both set out to the preserve.
All was going well until they came upon police officers and their cadaver dogs. While Scott hid, Stiles was caught by his father and forced to go home, leaving Scott all by himself. According to Scott’s message, he was almost trampled by a herd of deer and bitten by some kind of animal.
Now, Scott was taking forever to get to school and Stiles was feeling guilty and a little excited.
Finally, Stiles saw Scott ride his bike through the parking lot to the bike rack. After confronting the school’s biggest jackass—Jackson Whittemore—Scott made his way over to Stiles.
“Finally!” Stiles exclaimed, waving his hands in exasperation. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Scott shrugged lightly. “I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, Stiles.”
“Okay,” Stiles quickly moved on, bouncing. “Let’s see this thing.”
Scott sighed quietly and shrugged his backpack off his shoulders, lifting his gray t-shirt to show Stiles the piece of gauze he messily taped to his side. Stiles raised his eyebrows and cooed, reaching out to touch the bandage.
Scott hissed and slapped his hand away.
“Okay, okay,” Stiles went back to clutching the straps of his backpack while Scott pulled his shirt back down. “So, what bit you?”
Scott shrugged his backpack on and started walking up the sidewalk to school. “It was too dark to see much but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”
Stiles raised his eyebrows in disbelief and followed him. “A wolf bit you?”
Scott nodded.
Shaking his head, Stiles shot down Scott’s claim, “No, not a chance.”
“I heard a wolf howling.”
There was no way Scott was bitten by a wolf because Stiles knew no wolves were living in Beacon Hills—or California, for that matter. He knew way too much about the ecosystems of their home state thanks to the AP Environmental Science he took the year before.
“No, you didn’t,” Stiles insisted.
“What do you mean, no I didn’t?” Scott asked, becoming frustrated. “How do you know what I heard?”
Stiles scoffed and abruptly turned around, stopping Scott in his tracks. “Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in, like, sixty years.”
Scott was surprised. “Really?”
“Yes, really!” Stiles confirmed. “There are no wolves in California.”
“All right,” Scott shook his head, still maintaining that it was a wolf that bit him. He didn’t care what Stiles said. “Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf then you’re definitely not gonna believe me when I tell you I found the body.”
Stiles flailed spastically, his shoulders shrugging sharply as he reached out to grab Scott’s shoulders. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he asked excitedly.
“No, man, I wish. I’m gonna have nightmares for a month,” Scott shuddered, not wanting to think about the gruesome sight he witnessed the night before.
Stiles laughed in disbelief. “Oh, God, that is so fucking awesome!” he cheered. “I mean this is seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since—”
He trailed off, his attention being pulled by the two girls walking up the sidewalk to head into school, chatting quietly together.
“—since the birth of Olivia Martin!” he declared as the girl of his dreams walked past him with her cousin at her side. “Hey, Olivia, you look…like you’re gonna ignore me.”
Stiles swore that it may have been the luckiest day of his life because, as she passed him, Olivia sent him a small smile before giving her attention back to Lydia.
“Oh, my God,” he breathed, almost swooning, as he watched Olivia walk into the school. He turned back to Scott, who was just as shocked. “Did that just happen?”
“Yeah, Olivia Martin just smiled at you,” Scott grinned as the first bell of the morning went off.
Stiles jumped happily, ignoring the annoyed looks of the students around him. “This is the best day ever.”
Scott chuckled and rolled his eyes as he and Stiles went with the herd of students, walking into school. They separated to go to their lockers and then met back up to head to their shared AP English class that Scott somehow tested into.
As they walked into Mr. Thomas’ classroom, Stiles stopped in his tracks, making Scott bump into his back. There, in the aisle closest to the wall of windows, was Olivia Martin.
Seeing that there was only one more seat left in the aisle and it was right behind Olivia, Stiles rushed to the seat, almost pushing another guy out of the way. He almost knocked the desk over as he slid into the seat but he righted himself, chuckling nervously when Scott rolled his eyes at him.
He could have pinched himself, though, because seconds after he sat down, Scott sat in the empty seat right next to Olivia.
At least I’m close to her, he thought to himself.
“As you all know,” Mr. Thomas spoke from the front of the classroom, a dry-erase marker held firmly in his hand as he wrote on the board. “there indeed was a body found in the woods last night.”
Scott turned to look at Stiles with raised eyebrows; Stiles winked at him, chuckling under his breath.
“And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened,” Mr. Thomas continued. “but I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody—”
Stiles shook his head at Scott’s curious look. As far as he was aware—and he was—his dad hadn’t brought in a suspect.
“—which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk,” Mr. Thomas capped his marker and turned around, picking up a pack of papers that had previously been laying on his desk. “outlining this semester.”
Most of the students groaned in contempt but obediently set to read their syllabus to see what their teacher had in store to them.
Out of the corner of Stiles’ eye, he saw Scott frantically looking around the room but he ignored him for the moment, reaching up to tap Olivia on her vest-covered shoulder.
Olivia turned around and Stiles paused, forgetting what he was going to ask her when his whiskey-colored eyes met her cobalt-blue ones.
Olivia raised an impatient eyebrow, prompting Stiles to speak.
“Oh, um, do you have a pen I can borrow?” he asked quietly, his voice shaking slightly.
A ladies man, he was not.
Olivia’s eyes swept his face, her lips quirking slightly, and fell on his desk where a black pen was already waiting to be used.
“R-Right,” Stiles could have punched himself. He was such an idiot. “It doesn’t work anymore. That’s—that’s why I’m asking you for a pen. Yeah.”
Olivia hummed amusement lighting up her face, and turned around, reaching for her satchel on the floor. She pulled out a blue pen and faced Stiles again, holding it out for him.
“There you go,” she said kindly. “You can keep it.”
“Oh, are you sure?” Stiles was kind of hoping she wanted it back so he could talk to her again. “I mean, I can give it back.”
“No, it’s fine,” she assured him. “Let’s hope this one works for you.”
Stiles chuckled awkwardly. “Yeah, hopefully. Thanks, Olivia.”
“No problem, Stiles.”
As Olivia turned back around to read the rest of her syllabus, Stiles stared at the back of her head in shock. Olivia Martin knew his name? Olivia Martin knew who he was?
Like I said, he thought, best day ever. 
Stiles shook his head to clear his thoughts and focused back on his syllabus just as the classroom door opened. The vice-principal walked into the room, a girl his age following him.
“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent,” the vice-principal gestured to the girl who smiled shyly. “Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”
Allison walked to the side of the classroom where Stiles, Scott, and Olivia were sitting, taking the last empty seat behind Scott. Stiles nodded at her in greeting and watched as Scott handed her a pen with a smitten look on his face.
“Thanks,” Allison whispered with a smile.
Scott grinned and caught the eye of Stiles, rolling his eyes as his best friend gave him a thumb’s up.
Mr. Thomas cleared his throat. “We’ll begin with Kafka’s Metamorphosis on page one hundred and thirty-three.”
-
-
Ollie: We need to talk.
Olivia bit her lip as she texted Derek, hoping that he would have time for a phone call. He currently lived in New York but he was a couple of hours ahead of her, so she was pretty sure that he was done with work for the day.
She pressed her phone into her pocket, not expecting an answer right away, and focused back on the conversation she was having with Lydia.
“So, you’ve met the new girl?”
Lydia was talking about Allison Argent, the newest student of Beacon High. Olivia had her English class with Allison but she wasn’t exactly looking forward to meeting her. Her last name was Argent, after all.
The Argents were a notorious family that hunted supernatural creatures. Although Olivia wasn’t supernatural herself, her father was and that made her a target. Her mother was human, too, and look where she ended up. Killed just because she associated with someone who was a werewolf.
She didn’t know if Allison was a hunter like the rest of her family, but if she wasn’t and Olivia made friends with her, was it worth the risk? Did she want another target on her back?
“Not yet,” Olivia said finally, shaking her head.
Lydia hummed, looking down the hall where Allison was at her locker. “Well, I like her outfit. Let’s go talk to her.”
Olivia wanted to object but she knew that Lydia would talk to Allison anyway. She followed her cousin down the hall, knowing that she’d meet Allison sooner or later—especially if Lydia was so determined to talk to her.
“That jacket is absolutely killer,” Lydia announced their presence to Allison, who was looking down the hallway. Olivia followed her gaze, seeing that the new girl was staring in the direction of Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall. “where’d you get it?”
“Thanks,” Allison smiled shyly. “My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco.”
“And you are our new best friend,” Lydia declared, pointing slyly at her. “I’m Lydia and this is my cousin, Liv.”
Olivia wanted to grimace and scold Lydia for putting Allison’s attention on her, but she kept her face smooth and clear of emotion. She wasn’t one to put her emotions on her sleeve—other than her happiness—and if Allison was a hunter, she wanted to show no weaknesses.
“Hey,” she greeted Allison politely. “We have English together.”
Allison’s face lit up in realization and when she smiled, her dimples popped out. “Oh, yeah. Nice to meet you.”
Olivia nodded. “You too.”
Allison seemed sweet enough but there was no way that Olivia was going to let her guard down.
Jackson Whittemore, Lydia’s boyfriend and Olivia’s friend, came up to them then, pulling Lydia into a sloppy kiss. They were a big fan of PDA but to Olivia, their make-out sessions were nauseating.
Allison must have agreed; she grimaced and awkwardly looked away.
“I want to say you’ll get used to it, but…” Olivia shrugged, giving Allison a sympathetic look.
Allison blanched. “Oh.”
Eventually, Lydia and Jackson tore themselves away from each other and Lydia took that time to obsess over Allison’s outfit again. While the redhead was observing the taller brunette’s bracelet, Olivia felt her phone vibrate in her pocket.
Derek: I’m in town. When can you meet?
Olivia raised her eyebrows, shocked. She hadn’t known that Derek was back in town so soon after his visit. She wished that he had said something.
Ollie: Now. School’s over. Pick me up?
Derek: I’ll be there in five
Olivia sent him back a thumb’s up emoji just as Lydia mentioned Jackson’s party to Allison.
“So, this weekend, there’s a party.”
“A party?” Allison asked timidly.
Olivia could relate to Allison’s hesitation. She hated parties, especially ones thrown at their house where she couldn’t get away from the crowd of drunk teenagers.  
“Yeah, it’s on Friday night,” Jackson confirmed. “You should come.”
“Uh, I can’t,” Allison shook her head apologetically. “It’s family night this Friday. Thanks for asking, though.”
“Are you sure?” Jackson prodded. “Everyone’s going after the scrimmage.”
“You mean like football?”
“I wish,” Olivia joked, playfully grinning at the annoyed look Jackson sent her. “Unfortunately, the football team’s a joke. The sport here is lacrosse.”
“We’ve won the state championship for the past three years,” Jackson boasted.
“Thanks to a certain team captain,” Lydia spoke up, grinning lovingly at her boyfriend.
Jackson smiled back at her before looking at Allison. “Well, we have practice in a few minutes. If you don’t have anything to do, maybe you can come.”
“Well, I was going to—”
“Perfect!” Lydia interrupted her brightly. “You’re coming.”
Reluctantly, Allison followed Olivia, Lydia, and Jackson down the hallway.
As they passed her locker, Olivia spoke up, “I’m gonna miss practice today,” she told her cousin. “I’m meeting up with Derek.”
Lydia raised her eyebrows. “He’s still in town?”
“Apparently,” Olivia shrugged. She patted Jackson on the shoulder and gave Allison a small smile. “Have a good practice, Jackson. It was nice to meet you, Allison.”
Allison smiled and waved at her while Jackson nodded. Olivia split off from the group and went to her locker, taking out her satchel and draping it around her shoulders.
Once she walked out to the parking lot, she was relieved to see Derek’s black Camaro parked where she could see it. She jogged over to the car and slid into the passenger seat.
“Why are you still in town?” she asked Derek as he pulled out of the parking lot, not even bothering to greet him.
Derek sighed heavily. “I did go back,” he told her. “But Laura stayed behind for a couple of days. She never came back.”
Olivia furrowed her eyebrows, worried and confused. “So, she’s missing?”
“She was.”
“What does that mean? Did you find her?”
Derek pursed his lips sadly and looked over at Olivia. “Laura’s dead.”
-
Olivia stared blankly at the body in front of her, her eyes stinging from the need to cry. She had already shed tears on the way to the old Hale house where Derek had stashed Laura’s body and she felt like she was being weak if she cried any more. She hated crying, especially in front of someone. Sure, Derek was her cousin but they were alike when it came to showing emotional weakness.
Laura’s body was cut in half, sliced cleanly down the middle. Her brown hair was matted against her dirty back, sticky with blood and debris. Her blue eyes were fogged over, cloudy with death.
It made Olivia sick to her stomach, especially when she realized that Laura was the body that Mr. Thomas and the rest of the town were talking about.
“Did the Argents do this?”
The Argent family was famous for cutting a werewolf’s body in half. Usually, though, the Argents didn’t bother supernatural creatures unless they were harming humans. Laura was a gentle soul, she believed in preserving the relationship between the supernatural and the humans that lived in Beacon Hills.
“Maybe,” Derek exhaled deeply, arms crossed tightly over his chest as he looked down at his sister. “But if they did kill her, I’d be the alpha.”
Olivia looked over at her cousin, watching as his eyes flashed their usual icy-blue, not the deep red of an alpha.
“So, another werewolf killed her,” Olivia concluded.
Derek nodded. “I found something near her,” he pulled something from his pocket, handing it over to Olivia. “Do you recognize the name?”
Olivia glared down at the inhaler in her hand, reading the dirty label. The name of Scott McCall was printed in black ink, along with an expiration date and some instructions.
What the hell was Scott McCall doing by Laura’s body?
“Yeah, I recognize it,” Olivia confirmed, handing the inhaler back to Derek. “I go to school with Scott,” she sighed deeply. “What are we gonna do, Der?”
“We’re gonna bury her,” Derek’s lips trembled before falling into a scowl. “And then I’m gonna catch whoever did this.”
Olivia nodded, knowing that Derek was justified in doing whatever he needed to do to avenge Laura.
It didn’t take long to bury Laura’s body, though Derek did have to stop a couple of times to maintain his composure. Olivia kept him company, holding his hand tightly through his grief, trying to silently show him that she was there for him.
Once Derek flattened out the soil on Laura’s grave, Olivia took the wolfsbane rope that Derek prepared to ward off any werewolves around and laid it down into a spiral, the Hale family’s sign for vengeance. She attached it nicely to a wolfsbane plant and buried a few feet away from where Laura was.
The two of them stood silently over Laura’s grave, mourning their cousin and sister.
-
-
“I don’t—I don’t know what it was,” Scott admitted as he and Stiles balanced on a large tree over the creek that trailed through the preserve, jumping onto solid ground. “It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.”
Scott was referring to lacrosse tryouts where he was put in the goal by Coach Finstock. Though he had been practicing since the end of last season, Scott hardly ever spent time in the goal. Coach didn’t care, though.
Surprisingly, Scott pulled it off. He caught every ball—other than the first one, which hit him in the head—even Jackson’s. His playing amazed everyone, including himself.
“And that’s not the only weird thing,” Scott continued, his eyes on the ground in search of his missing inhaler. “I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. I can smell things…”
“Smell things?” Stiles spoke up, skeptical. “Like what?”
Scott turned to him, both of them walking. “Like the spearmint gum in your pocket.”
Stiles cocked an eyebrow and stopped in his tracks, digging his hand into his jacket. “I don’t even have any spearmint—” he paused as he pulled out a stick of gum and looked at Scott, amazed. Scott shrugged in an I-told-you-so way.
The boys continued walking.
“So,” Stiles said thoughtfully. “All this started with a bite?”
“What if it’s like an infection?” Scott asked worriedly. “Like my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”
Stiles grinned sneakily, seeing an opening for a prank. He wasn’t sure that Scott knew what lycanthropy was but with him spouting about how a wolf bit him and his newfound abilities, it was the perfect joke.
“You know what, I actually think I’ve heard of this,” he said, catching Scott’s attention. “It’s a specific kind of infection.”
Scott stopped. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” Stiles nodded, putting his hands on his hips. “Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.”
Scott’s eyes widened. “What’s that? Is that bad?”
Stiles couldn’t believe his luck. “Oh, yeah, it’s the worst,” he tried to keep the amusement from his voice. “But only once a month.”
“Once a month?”
Stiles hummed in confirmation. “On the night of the full moon.”
He tilted his head back and howled, mimicking a wolf. When Scott shook his head in annoyance and pushed him, he broke into snickers.
“Hey,” he chuckled. “you’re the one who heard a wolf howling.”
Scott narrowed his eyes and started walking again. “There could be something seriously wrong with me.”
“I know, you’re a werewolf!” Stiles exclaimed before fake growling. Scott didn’t look amused. “Okay, obviously I’m kidding,” he conceded. “But if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”
Scott shook his head, coming to a stop. “We don’t even have a shop class,” he sighed, looking around at the familiar area. “I could have sworn this was it. The deer came running, I dropped my inhaler, and then I saw the body.”
He crouched down, sifting through the dead leaves by his feet.
“Maybe the killer moved the body,” Stiles suggested, looking around.
“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler,” Scott joked, looking up at Stiles. “Those things are, like, eighty bucks.”
Stiles snickered and looked around again, his heart stuttering in shock when he saw Olivia Martin and some guy standing a few feet away. They came out of nowhere, serious looks on both of their faces.
He slapped Scott’s shoulder, getting his attention.
As Scott got to his feet, the guy stalked forward. Olivia stood in place, crossing her arms over her chest.
“What are you doing here?” the guy asked crossly.
Stiles rubbed his buzzcut, feeling awkward.
“Huh?” the guy prodded when they didn’t answer. “This is private property.”
“Uh, sorry, man, we didn’t know,” Stiles apologized, looking between him and Olivia.
They were close to the old Hale house so that probably explained why Olivia was out here. But if Olivia was with this guy so close to the dilapidated mansion, he figured that the guy was one of the other survivors of the fire. Stiles guessed that he was her cousin, Derek Hale.
“Yeah,” Scott added to Stiles’ excuse. “we were just looking for something, but forget—"
Derek Hale cut off Scott, pulling his hand out of his leather jacket and throwing whatever he had at Scott. Scott caught it without much thought, looking down at his inhaler in shock.
Stiles glanced from the inhaler back at Olivia and Derek, only to find that they were gone.
“Uh,” Scott shook his head and slipped his inhaler into his pocket, looking at Stiles. “All right, come on. I gotta get to work.”
Stiles looked at him in disbelief. “Dude, that was Derek Hale. You remember what happened, right?”
“That was Olivia’s cousin?”
“Yeah, he’s only a few years older than us,” Stiles confirmed.
“What happened?” Scott asked, not remembering the tragic deaths of the Hale family and many others.
“His family, Olivia’s mom...they all burned to death in a fire six years ago,” Stiles informed him.
“I wonder what he’s doing back.”
Stiles shook his head, shrugging. “Probably visiting Olivia,” he took his keys out of his pocket, twirling them around his index finger. “Come on.”
-
-
The rest of the week passed quickly and Stiles was going out of his mind. Scott continued to act weirdly; he outperformed everyone at lacrosse tryouts, he winced every time the school bell rang, and the morning before the party, he slept walked into the woods.
Stiles had already started researching what could be wrong with his best friend but when his dad got a call from the lab where the dead body was sent and they discovered that there was wolf hair on the body, he was mystified.
Was his joke from the other day not a joke? Could Scott possibly be a werewolf?
Stiles didn’t know how to approach the topic with Scott but when he flipped over a couple of players on the lacrosse field and still scored a goal, Stiles knew he needed to confront his best friend.
He spent the rest of the afternoon researching anything that involved werewolves. There was a bunch of nonsense from Harry Potter, Twilight and The Vampire Diaries but eventually, he found some promising websites that gave him helpful information. He printed off numerous pages of articles, ranging from the effects of silver and wolfsbane to the first Lycan folklore.
Stiles narrowed his eyes at the screen of his MacBook, reading through the last paragraph of the article about supernatural hunters. He jumped in shock and closed his computer when there were rapid knocks on his closed door.
Scott was here.
He jumped out of his desk chair and opened the door, relieved to see Scott on the other side.
“Get in,” he ushered his best friend into his room, speaking rapidly. “You gotta see this. I’ve been researching all afternoon. I found a bunch of information.”
Scott grinned at him, recognizing his jerky movements and quick words. “How much Adderall have you had today?”
“A lot,” Stiles admitted, sitting at his desk and grabbing some of the papers he printed. “Doesn’t matter, okay? Just listen.”
“Oh, is this about the body?” Scott asked, throwing his backpack on Stiles’ bed and taking a seat next to it. “Did they find out who did it?”
“No, they’re still questioning people, even Derek Hale,” Stiles said, turning his chair to face him.
“Oh, Olivia’s cousin?” Scott’s face lit up in recognition. “Maybe that’s why she’s been grumpy all week.”
Stiles shrugged, remembering the frown and passive glare that had been on Olivia’s face the past few days. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. “But that’s not it, okay?”
“What then?”
“Remember the joke from the other day? Not a joke anymore,” Stiles said seriously. As Scott shook his head, confused, he pursed his lips. “The wolf, the bite in the woods? I started doing all this research—”
He flipped the papers in his hands, searching for the information on the howl of a wolf, and stood up. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?”
Scott stared at him, wondering where Stiles was going with this. “Should I?”
“It’s a signal,” Stiles regurgitated the information from the papers he was holding. “When a wolf’s alone, it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So, if you heard a wolf howling, that means others could have been nearby.”
Scott straightened in alarm. “A whole pack of wolves?”
“No,” Stiles corrected him. “Werewolves.”
Tension practically fizzled in the air as Scott gave Stiles an annoyed look and stood up from the bed.
“Are you seriously wasting my time with this?” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes as he picked up his backpack so he could leave. “You know I’m picking up Allison in an hour.”
Stiles stepped in front of him. “I saw you on the field today, Scott. What you did wasn’t just amazing, all right? It was impossible.”
“Yeah, so I made a good shot,” Scott shrugged, trying to get past Stiles.
Stiles stopped him again, taking the backpack from his hands and throwing it back onto the bed. “No, you made an incredible shot. I mean, the way you moved, your speed, your reflexes? People can’t just suddenly do that overnight.”
Scott sighed and bowed his head.
“And there’s the vision and the senses,” Stiles continued, his voice growing louder. “and don’t even think I don’t notice that you don’t need your inhaler anymore!”
“Okay!” Scott interrupted, fed up. “Dude, I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?! What, no!” Stiles exclaimed, becoming panicked. “The full moon’s tonight. Don’t you get it?”
Scott’s chest puffed up as he grew irritated with his best friend. “What are you trying to do?” he asked Stiles harshly. “I just made the first line, I got a date with a girl who I can’t believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”
Stiles shook his head and sat in his chair. “I’m trying to help,” he reminded Scott. “You’re cursed, Scott. The moon won’t just cause you to physically change, okay? It also just happens to be when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”
Scott gritted his teeth. “Bloodlust?”
“Yeah, your urge to kill.”
“I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles,” Scott sneered, glaring at him.
Stiles sucked in a sharp breath and turned to his desk, picking up another printed article. “You gotta hear this. ‘The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse.’ All right?” he finished reading and looked back at Scott. “I haven’t seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does.”
Stiles stood up and walked purposely toward Scott’s backpack. “You gotta cancel this date,” he proclaimed, digging through Scott’s bag for his cell phone. “I’m gonna call her right now.”
Scott sighed heavily. “What are you doing?”
Stiles found the phone and stood up, preparing to message Allison. “I’m canceling your date.”
“No, give it to me!” Scott yelled, grabbing Stiles’ arm and forcefully pushing him into the wall by his desk.
He raised his fist, preparing to punch Stiles as his best friend squirmed, waiting for the blow. Scott’s fist shook severely as he turned away and shouted with rage, pushing away Stiles’ chair.
Stiles looked at Scott with wide eyes, trying to comprehend what had just happened. As Scott calmed down, he saw Stiles’ face, growing ashamed at the fear there.
He shuffled away from Stiles, grabbing his backpack. “I’m sorry,” he apologized sincerely, stepping toward the door. He looked back at Stiles once more, remorseful at the way his best friend stared at him. “I-I gotta go get ready for that party. I’m sorry.”
Stiles didn’t speak as Scott left the room. When his door shut firmly, he sighed heavily and knocked his head against his wall in frustration.
He was aggravated that Scott got violent with him, but if Scott was a werewolf, then he had to get over his irritation. Scott could hurt someone and if he was still going to Lydia’s party, Stiles had to be there in case something bad happened.
He huffed and bent down, picking up his chair that Scott had tossed away. Seeing the large scratches in the fake leather, he froze.
This was going to be a bad night.
-
-
Olivia leaned against the wall just inside her living room, her eyes warily searching the crowd of teenagers that were drinking cheap beer and dancing to the techno music that Danny provided. She was on the lookout for Scott McCall, hoping that he wasn’t going to show up.
When Derek told her that Scott was bitten and now a werewolf, she was shocked. She couldn’t believe that Scott—who was basically a nobody with really bad asthma—was going to turn into a raging monster on the nights of the full moon.
And the full moon was tonight, which was why she was actually participating in the party. Scott had asked Allison to go to the party with him and if he showed up, Olivia had to make sure he wouldn’t hurt anyone when the moon reached its peak.
She was just grateful that Derek was there, somewhere among her partying schoolmates. He’d be the only one who could stop Scott from acting out.
Olivia perked up when she saw Stiles Stilinski walk into the living room, his eyes searching the crowd much like she had been doing.
If anyone knew Scott, she thought, it’d be Stiles. 
Olivia placed her red cup of soda on a nearby table and made her way over to Stiles, trying not to bump into anyone’s full cup.
“Stiles, right?” she asked him, loud enough to be heard over the music pumping through the many speakers around the house and backyard.
She knew his name, of course, but she didn’t want to intimidate him.
Stiles gaped at her, his whiskey eyes sweeping her up and down, taking in her red dress with cutouts around the waist and brown boots. “Yeah, I’m Stiles. You’re Olivia.”
“I know,” Olivia gave him a weird look. “Can we talk?”
“What?”
“Can we talk?”
“Sure!” Stiles nodded eagerly, a goofy grin—that Olivia had to admit was kind of cute—adorning his face. “Lead the way!”
Olivia took his sweaty hand and pulled him out of the living room, through the hallway, and into her aunt’s office, which was off-limits to party-goers. The walls weren’t exactly soundproof, but they could hear each other way better with the bonus of privacy.
“So, uh, what’d you want to talk about?” Stiles asked, awkwardly rubbing his buzzcut.
“Frankly, I want to talk about Scott,” Olivia said bluntly, missing the way Stiles frowned in disappointment.
“Uh, okay, but he’s here with Allison and he really likes her, so…”
“No, I don’t care about his relationship status,” Olivia shook her head, rolling her eyes. “I care about the fact that it’s a full moon tonight and he’s in a crowd full of people.”
Stiles gaped at her. “What, I—?” he shook his head, focusing. “How do you know about…?”
“About the fact that he’s a werewolf?” Olivia raised her eyebrows. Stiles nodded; she shrugged. “Derek told me.”
“Well, how does Derek know?”
“Because Derek’s a werewolf,” she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Are you fucking serious?” Stiles cursed under his breath. Of course Derek Hale was a fucking werewolf. Why wouldn’t he be?
What had he gotten himself into?
“Look, we don’t know you or Scott that well, but we want to help,” Olivia spoke up after letting Stiles absorb the new information. “Derek has experience with full moons, he can help Scott get through it.”
“Are you a werewolf?” Stiles asked, still trying to come to terms with everything.
“No,” Olivia shook her head. “My dad was but I’m not.”
“Oh,” Stiles nodded, scratching the back of his neck, his mind whirling a mile a minute. He paused, giving her a skeptical look. “Why should we trust you?”
“Like I said, Derek knows what Scott’s about to go through,” Olivia said patiently. “And, honestly, I don’t want Scott to rip into anyone out there. It’s not safe for anyone involved.”
Stiles nodded slowly; he and Scott didn’t exactly need to explicitly trust Derek but if he could help Scott with the full moon, what was the harm? They didn’t have anything to lose at the moment.
“Fine,” he agreed, hoping that Scott would too. “We should probably get out there before Scott and Allison show up.”
“I’m glad we agree,” Olivia smiled at him, opening the door and following him out of the room.
Stiles’ heart quickened as Olivia’s arm brushed against his as they walked back to the party, a brand-new song starting.
“You want a drink?” Olivia asked him loudly, gesturing toward the drink table.
Stiles nodded. “Sure!”
They hustled to the table and poured their drinks, both of them opting for a non-alcoholic beverage. Afterward, they walked around, trying to find Scott and Allison. When they found the couple dancing outside, they waited together to see what would happen.
It only took two songs for Scott to start transforming under the influence of the full moon. He stumbled away from Allison and into the house.
Stiles and Olivia approached him cautiously.
“Scott, you good?” Stiles asked him.
“Are you okay?” Olivia added worriedly before looking for a sign of her cousin.
Scott pushed past them, ignoring their questions, and stumbled out of the house, knocking into a couple of people.
Before Olivia and Stiles could follow Scott, Allison ran after him, calling out his name. As Scott ignored Allison, Olivia and Stiles followed her, coming out of the house just in time to see Derek offering Allison a ride.
“What’s your cousin doing?” Stiles asked Olivia, frustrated and a little panicked.
Olivia shook her head. “I don’t know. You go after Scott, I’ll talk to Derek.”
Stiles nodded and ran off, finding his jeep and driving away. Meanwhile, Olivia walked up to Allison and Derek.
“Hey,” she greeted them, trying to keep her nerves at bay. “Allison, are you leaving?”
“Uh, yeah,” Allison gave her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m not feeling well.”
“I offered to give her a ride home,” Derek spoke up, giving Olivia a pointed look that Allison didn’t catch.
Olivia knew what he was doing and she wished he wouldn’t. She had already talked to Stiles and got him to trust them. If Stiles agreed to them helping Scott, she was sure that Scott would agree, too. This—what Derek was doing—was just going to piss them off.
However, she knew Derek. He wouldn’t back down.
Olivia hesitantly nodded and smiled at Allison. “Well, you’ll be safe with Derek. See you at school on Monday?”
Allison nodded with a small smile. “Yeah.”
“Feel better, Allison.”
-
-
Stiles huffed, silently cursing to himself as he continued to drive down the highway just outside of the preserve. He’d been searching for Scott all night and had yet to find him after he ran off to find Derek and Allison.
Of course, Stiles knew Allison was safe at home but he wondered if Scott knew that.
Really, he was pissed. Not at Scott but Derek and Olivia. Olivia had said that Derek was going to help Scott but instead Scott revealed that Derek was the one to bite Scott and kill the girl in the woods. He was inclined to trust his best friend more than some random guy and the girl he had been crushing on since the second grade.
So, what was Derek and Olivia’s plan? And why did Olivia approach him, giving him false promises?
Stiles narrowed his eyes as he caught sight of Scott up ahead, walking on the side of the road. He was shirtless and clutching his right arm, as though he was injured.
Stiles pulled up and stopped, letting him into the jeep.
“You okay?” he asked, pulling off his blazer to give to Scott to wear.
“Yeah,” Scott mumbled, pulling the blazer over him. He leaned his head against his door as Stiles started driving and sighed. “You know what I’m worried about?”
Stiles licked his lips and side-glanced Scott, annoyed. “If you say Allison, I’m gonna punch you in the nuts.”
“She probably hates me now,” Scott complained, ignoring what Stiles said.
Stiles groaned. “I doubt that,” he disagreed. “but you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology…Or, you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the fact that you’re a fuckin’ werewolf!”
Scott looked at him tiredly, eyebrows raised high on his forehead.
“Okay, bad idea,” Stiles admitted sheepishly.
Scott sighed and laid his head back on his window.
“Hey, we’ll get through this,” Stiles comforted Scott, nudging his knee before returning his hand to the steering wheel. “Come on, if I have to, I’ll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once, I could do it.”
Scott chuckled, cheered up by his best friend’s goofiness. “Sure, if it comes to that.”
Stiles pumped his fist. “Yes!”
(Gif is not mine)
116 notes · View notes
1-800-hellraiser · 4 years
Text
I don't want to set the world on fire (Jeff the Killer x reader x BEN Drowned)
Requested by: no one
Words: 2,273
Genre: Lots of angst (itty bitty bit of fluff at the end)
Associated song: I don't to set the world on fire - The Ink Spots
!TW! Swearing, yelling, arguing, all that tomfoolery. 
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"I've lost all ambition and worthy acclaim, I just wanna be the one you love"
   You step down the concrete stairs of your apartment building. Your boyfriend, Jeff, wanted to meet at the nearby park. He said he wanted to introduce you to someone. You know Jeff works with a lot of people, so you're excited to get to know one of his acquaintances. You pull up the hood of your f/c (favorite color) hoodie, since your s/t (skin tone) ears are getting cold.
   You pop some earbuds into your ears and play some music as you walk to the park. Thinking a bit more about Jeff's acquaintances, you know of one in particular, because he's your mutual friend. That's how you and Jeff met, actually. 
   BEN was actually coming to kill you, but you threw something sharp at him. It stabbed him in the eye, and he had to take a break. So, the mission was given to Jeff. After about a week of fighting every night, you both just decided to stop and become friends. Hell, you became even more somehow.
   You and BEN have been friends ever since he tried to kill you. He comes through your laptop sometimes, although most of the time, he comes through your T.V. You chill together and watch movies, play video games, and just veg out until you both fall asleep. He's also been through a lot with you, every fight you and Jeff had, work and school related stress, nightmares, everything! 
   So, why are you with Jeff and not BEN? Jeff asked you out, you don't think BEN likes you. You just think BEN is your best friend. He couldn't possibly have feelings for you...right?
   BEN lays silently on his bed. He's internally kicking his own ass for not telling you about who Jeff actually was. There's a lot you don't know about Jeff. You're the type of person to wait until someone opens up to you. You don't know that when Jeff's not around you, he's an arrogant, self-centered, asswipe. 
   BEN rolls off his bed, and gets up to go get some food. He wanders into the kitchen and grabs a bowl from the cupboard. A bowl of cereal at 2 pm (14:00) sounds very tasty right about now. He takes the milk carton from the fridge and some Cheerios. 
   BEN plops himself into a chair and starts to munch on his Cheerios. Most of the other pastas and proxies are out on missions. The rest of the pastas and proxies, including BEN, have their day off today. 
   As BEN isn't paying attention and spacing out, Sally hops into the chair next to him at the table. "Hi BEN! Whatcha doin'?" "Ah!" BEN squeaks, almost spilling his cereal. BEN composes himself and glances at the small brunette next to him. "Thinking about a friend." Sally looks up at BEN in curiosity.
   "Who?" Sally tilts her head like a confused puppy. BEN takes another spoonful of Cheerios and shoves them in his mouth. "A girl I became friends with on that one mission. The girl that stabbed me in the eye." BEN explains to the young girl. "Ohhhhh, her. Yeah I remember." BEN nods and swallows the cereal he was eating. 
    Something suddenly clicks in Sally's little noggin. She grows a sly smirk and her eyes become half lidded. She sets her head in her little palm. "You like her don't you?" The young brunette teases. BEN almost spits out his cereal, his face begins to grow red. Sally keeps smiling slyly as BEN tries to explain himself.
   As soon as he gets his bearings, BEN realizes he cant explain himself. He does like you. The tingle in his chest when he's around you. The butterflies he gets when you talk to him. How sweaty his hands get when you text him. How could he have been so blind, he likes, no, loves you.
  BEN sighs and runs his hand through his greasy, blond locks. "I may or may not..." Sally giggles at BEN. "Oh come onnnnnnnnn" Sally's green eyes make contact with BEN's red ones "I know you do. I think you should tell her how you feel." BEN's face gets red and his heart drops. 
   "I can't really do that Sally." BEN states dejectedly, Sally cocks her head at his words. "Why not?" Sally prods further. "She's, Jeff's girlfriend..." Sally looks at BEN with wide eyes. "I didn't know he had a girlfriend, I didn't even think he could get one..." BEN snorts at Sally's remark as he gets up to put his bowl in the sink. 
   Suddenly, an idea pops into BEN's head. He could just tell you how Jeff acts when he's not around you. To be fair, you probably won't believe him, but has to at least try. BEN says goodbye to Sally and semi - confidently walks back into his room. He decides to wait until 5 pm (17:00) to come over. 
   You finally arrive at the park Jeff told you to go to. It is a bit far from your apartment building, but you don't care. You text Jeff to see where he wants to meet you. As you wait for is text, you wander around, admiring the scene.
   There are children running round as they're parents sit on the public benches and chat. There are people with they're dogs (on leashes, of course) and an opening to a forest area. You're getting more interested in the forest, but before you start walking towards it, you get a text back from Jeff. 
   'Meet me by the entrance of the forest'. His text is vague, but you know what he means. You silently walk over to the entrance of the forest. Jeff comes into view along with a female. She has long, almost tomato red hair, a pale complexion, and is about 5'2. She is wearing a denim jean jacket, a black tank top underneath, jeans and a pair of black Doc Martins. 
   You come closer to the pair, noticing Jeff has his arm around the girl. You falter for a minute, before shrugging it off as 'they must be good friends'. Once you get to Jeff and the girl, you notice the female's beautiful green eyes. Her eyes are piercing right through you, in almost a judgmental way. 
   You push the thought away as Jeff introduces you to the girl. Her name is Zoe, a very pretty name. "So, Jeff, what do you want to do here?" You ask innocently, Jeff smirks at you. "Well, I wanted to talk, about our relationship specifically." Your heart drops and you feel the blood drain from tour face. 
   "Oh, uh, ok! What did you want to talk about." You ask, still trying to be optimistic about this situation. Although, you have an idea of where this is going. "Well, I'm breaking up with you, for Zoe. I wanted to tell you in person." Jeff explains, as you stand there dumbly. 
   After you process what he just said, you are livid. "Wow, ok, so, you thought it would be a great idea to have me walk for about a half a mile (0.8 kilometers) just for you to break it off? And, if that wasn't enough you have to bring your girlfriend along with you?" You sneer at Jeff.
  "What the hell man? Like, it would've been better to break it off over the phone, rather than this shit being pulled." You continue, relentlessly. Jeff cuts in "babe, listen, I-" "No! You pull this shit and still have the brass balls to call me babe?! Get bent, Jeff." You finish, flipping him off as you retreat back to your apartment building. 
   As soon as you enter your apartment, you break down. You cry until you're dehydrated. After wallowing in a bundle of blankets for about an hour, you get up to check the time. It is four thirty, you sigh and get up to get some food. Food doesn't solve ALL your problems, but it does solve some of them. 
   You sigh as you stare into a fridge with only a few water bottles and some shredded cheese. You grab a water bottle, then close your fridge and trudge back to your room. You decide to order some food, but you don't know where from. 
   After about 30 minutes, BEN pops out of your T.V. and scares the shit out of your indecisive ass. "What's poppin' Y/n?" BEN asks, sitting next to you on your bed. "Nothin' much, just trying to decide on what to eat for dinner." BEN's eyes light up "CAN WE GET MCDONALD'S?!" You flinch at the sound of BEN's excitement. 
   "Pfft, yeah, we can." You open a handy dandy app on your phone that lets you order from almost any restaurant in your area. You pick out what you want and hand your phone over to BEN when you're done. You got some f/f (favorite food) and BEN got chicken nuggets. 
  "Its gonna take 45 minutes to get here." You inform, BEN groans. You chuckle at his childish nature. "You wanna play some Smash while we wait?" You ask, grabbing you and BEN a controller. "Hell yeah! Imma wipe the floor with your ass!" "Don't be so cocky BEN." You retort sassily. 
   "BRO LITERALLY HOW." BEN yells in frustration, you giggle at him. "I told you not to be so cocky~" You taunt he crosses his arms and pouts. You chuckle and ruffle his golden locks. You her a knock at your door and both you and BEN perk up. "I'll be right back, the food's here." You rise up off your semi-stiff mattress and walk out of your room. 
   BEN lets out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He decided to tell you after about Jeff. He had noticed that you were crying. He noticed your puffy eyes, the unwiped tear streaks, your shaking. He didn't say anything because he wanted to make you feel a little bit better, but he also wants to tell you the truth. 
   You come back with a McDonald's back full of greasy, unhealthy, yet delicious food. BEN licks his lips as you hand him his chicken nuggets. You take out f/f and take a bite. Your mouth salivates even more as you take a bite of the lovely food. 
   After you two are finished, you took the trash out of your room so it won't attract ants or roaches. BEN starts sweating and his heart beats against his rib cage. "Hey, Y/n, can I talk to you about something?" He tries his best to make sure he doesn't look nervous. "Yeah, what's up?" BEN gulps and prepares for the worst.
   "Ok, I wanted to tell you Jeff isn't what he seems. He's an arrogant, asshat that doesn't care about others emotions. He thinks he's the best thing since sliced bread-" "oh yeah I know," BEN stops in his tracks. "Y-you know?" He stutters, looking at you with pure confusion on his features. "Yeah, he broke up with me for a much prettier girl, he name is Zoe, I believe." 
   BEN stares at you in disbelief, not because of the break up between you and Jeff. It's because you weren't breaking down. "A-are you doing okay?" BEN asks, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Kinda, I broke down earlier about it, but I think I'm fine now." BEN nods and scoots a bit closer to you. 
   "Ok, well, I-I wanted to ask you something. To be fair, it is a bit, sudden and early, and its okay if you don't feel the same." BEN looks at you with a cute blush spreading across his left cheek, over his button nose, to his right cheek. "What do you mean,?" You ask, cocking your head. BEN holds in a breath, and then lets it go. 
   "Y-Y/n, I came over to ask you, if y-you'd be my girlfriend." As soon as those words exit BEN's mouth, he shrinks down in fear of what you'll say. You give BEN a look of sympathy. You gently scoot closer to him, and wrap your arms around him, holding him close to your chest.
   BEN slowly un-tesnses his muscles and wraps his arms around your waist. Burying his head into your shoulder. He breathes into your shirt, your shirt smells like fresh linen laundry soap. He loves that laundry soap. You rub soothing circles on your best friend's back. "I'm so sorry BEN, I had no idea you felt this way." You whisper soothingly. BEN starts to get his hopes up. 
"I don't think I like you like that, BEN."
  BEN's heart drops immediately. He holds on to you tighter. You both sat there in a comfortable silence, BEN blaming himself for catching feelings. You know however, what he's doing.
  "BEN, hun, please don't blame yourself, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better," you pull away from BEN's grasp, he looks you in the eyes, "we can still be friends." BEN accepts your offer and pulls you into another tight embrace. "Thank you Y/n. God, your the best friend I could ever ask for."
27 notes · View notes
ficsnroses · 5 years
Text
A New Beginning - Keanu Reeves x Reader
Hello! This fic was inspired by the song Everybody Loves Somebody by Dean Martin. To receive the *full* effect, please do give it a listen before or while reading, it’s a treat and I promise you won’t regret! I’ve linked it here. On a different note, I’m not as confident in this fic as I was in my first, but I hope this sufficed and you enjoy regardless :) Let me know your thoughts! This fic does have a flashback that is indicated in text. 
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Word Count : 1959
Summary : It’s move in day for Keanu and the reader, and Keanu can’t help but express his love in a special, endearing way.
Requested : No
Warnings : None! Just some fluffy domestic Keanu content. 
It was a Saturday evening, and the sun had begun to set, channeling a pink and purple hue over the horizon. It was the middle of September and summer had finally come to a close. The beginning of Autumn had brought cozier evenings, and the world looked like it had been lightly crusted with sprinkles of cinnamon, brown sugar, and bright, vibrant apple blossoms.
           A cool breeze channeled through the open window, pirouetting in the atmosphere for a moment, before whirling over your skin leaving goosebumps, swaying your mind away as if in a ballet as you exhaled a weary sigh.
           You glossed your eyes around the room, the space littered with scattered brown cardboard boxes, some empty, some occupied with belongings, until they landed on your ever so giant boyfriend sitting cross legged on the apartment floor. His eyes squinted and nose scrunched trying to read to tiny instructions on the manual describing how to build the brand new wooden table you had purchased for your new house you had bought together. You smiled lightly to yourself, his black and lightly brunette dusted hair falling in his eyes every so often.
           Keanu and you had been together for a little over 3 years, and gosh had it been amazing. The way he made you feel was something you never quite thought you would get. It felt so real, so true, as if the universe had clicked and allowed you to indulge in the sweetest existence. You both felt as if you completed the missing parts of each other, constantly helping, supporting and being in each other’s corner. Just the mere sight of you was enough to make his heart flutter, but the feeling of knowing he had one person in the sea of people to call his own, to have and to hold, to protect and be protected from whatever ups and downs may be thrown meant more to him than could be put into words. It was a warmth that only you and him could comprehend, almost like a two-person team that no one else could ever be a part of. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been dreaming of this move in together since just a few months into your relationship. It had been a long time coming.
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           “Hey babe, how was work?” Keanu smiled into the phone. Evening had fallen and he had been in the kitchen cooking up a meal for yourself and him.
           “It was alright, the usual. I’m exhausted.” You sighed. You were driving to your apartment, Keanu’s voice through the Bluetooth was refreshing, like hearing your favourite melody.
           “Aw, that’s alright sweetheart. I made you dinner, how about we crack open a bottle of your favourite red in the Jacuzzi later tonight?” he suggested while stirring the pot.
           “Oh Ke, I didn’t know you wanted to spend tonight together? I’m sorry honey but I’m almost at my apartment now” you frowned, feeling a tingle in your heart that he had gone through all the effort for you.
           Keanu and you had been going back and fourth to each other’s places almost every day. You both had keys to each other’s apartments, and would often end up spending the night together, cuddled up on the couch after a long day, enjoying each other’s company and escaping from the world of responsibilities. Keanu had a drawer at your place, his belongings peppered around your apartment, constantly reminding you of your life together. Simple things that made your heart swell with happiness, such as seeing a bag of Keanu’s favourite dark roast coffee he drank every morning in your cupboard beside your mugs. At Keanu’s apartment, you had seized a large portion of his wardrobe. But he didn’t mind, in fact it was one of his favourite parts of waking up when you weren’t there with him to see your shoes next to his, and some of your sweaters, dresses and shirts hanging around in his wardrobe.
           “Spend the night here, please. I would love to help you wind down.” He spoke.
After a bit of contemplation, you sighed and turned the car around. You could never quite resist him.
That evening, as promised, after dinner Keanu had drew you a nice warm bath in the Jacuzzi with your favourite rose scent. He sat behind you in the steaming water with you leaning back on his chest, your eyes closed and breathing calm. He kneaded your shoulders lightly trying to rid any tension. You both loved the intimacy of a bath or shower together, it helped you feel completely connected.
           “Why do we keep doing this?” Keanu eventually broke the silence as he brushed his chin against your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck.
           “Hmm?” you questioned, eyes still closed. “What do you mean love?”
           “This, all the scrambling” He placed a light kiss to the top of your shoulder, his lips still lingering over the sensitive area. You could feel his breath on your skin.
           “I want us to always come back to the same place. To be the first person we see in the morning and the last before bed every night. I’ve been thinking long and hard and..”
           “Are you suggesting we move in together Keanu?” You cut him off, turning your head to peer over your shoulder.
           He smiled sheepishly. “Yeah…I am, if you want of course. I feel ready and I feel good about this.” He gestured between you two.
           “I feel pretty darn good about it too.” You whispered grinning back, getting lost in his espresso eyes before sharing a tender kiss to his lips.
****************************************************************************************
           You walked over to Keanu and kneeled down behind him, snaking your arms around his neck, placing a kiss to the back of his head before tucking your head into his shoulder.
           “You look cute when you don’t know what you’re doing” you smiled.
           “Hey hey, I do too know what I’m doing.” He took his finger and moved the frame of his glasses up his nose. “I’m just trying to establish the most efficient way to do this.” He replied, resting his hand on yours, brushing his thumb over it.
           “Sure babe. Whatever you say.” You said slowly rising up, lightly chuckling. That’s when the door bell went. Due to all the cleaning and painting Keanu and yourself had done all day, and the house being completely empty, not yet furnished, you had decided to order a pizza as there was no food or cooking equipment in yet.
           “I’ll get it” Keanu said as he rose, pulling out his wallet. You walked over to the fridge, pulling out two bottles of wine. Of course, the only thing in the fridge at the moment was wine, you both knew you’d need it after the day you’d had.
           “White or red Ke?” You asked.
           “Hmmm…it’s a white kinda day.” He replied as he closed the door and set the box of pizza down on the hardwood floor. You both ate sitting on the floor, sharing laughs between your conversation, gulping down the crisp wine. It felt like a bottle of poetry on your tongue.
After dinner, Keanu took his place back by the unbuilt wooden coffee table, and you back on the floor by the wall. You were in the process of touching up some of the paint on the wall near the bottoms and edges. It was a task that took a lot of precision.
Music played through the speakers and flooded the empty house, the echoes making it sound like your own private concert. You had played your favourite playlist, consisting of hits from Frank Sinatra & Dean Martin. The vibe in the house felt soothing, so inviting and full of passion.
           Keanu had been stealing glances at you for the majority of the evening. He couldn’t help it, the way your hair was tucked atop your head in a messy bun, yet a strand was still falling on your cheek slightly annoying you made him grin like child experiencing fireworks for the first time. The look of determination and precision on your face made his heart smile. He admired that about you, your work ethic and the way you put 100% into everything you did. You truly were the perfect women in his eyes. He was drifting away in his own thoughts until he heard a familiar track begin to fall from the speakers.
           Everybody loves some body sometime
           Everybody falls in love somehow
Suddenly, Keanu began to get up from his spot and trek towards you, a bright smile plastered on his lips. He couldn’t help himself.
           Something in your kiss, just told me
           My sometime, is now
Once he reached you, he bent down slightly and held his hand out for you to take.
You shot him a confused smile. “Come on love.” He spoke softly, looking you right in your eyes, so full of admiration. You took his much larger hand in yours, rising up. Once you were up, he gently caressed both your hands and placed them on his shoulders, while subsequently wrapping his arms right around your waist.
           Everybody finds somebody some place
           There’s no telling where love may appear
           Something in my heart keeps saying, my someplace, is here
Keanu began sway gently to the music, his eyes never leaving yours, as if he were staring deep into your soul. You couldn’t control your smile either, staring right back. It truly felt like home, like you were staring right back at your entire world, placed right in front of you, tenderly matching each others movements, completely united, spewing with passion and desire for each other.
Keanu took one of you hands and gave you a twirl, admiring you in your entirety. As you placed your arms around his neck, he connected his forehead to yours, still smiling. He wrapped his hands around one of your wrists.
That’s when he started softly singing to you.
           If I had it in my power,
           I’d arrange for every girl to have your charm
           Then every minute, every hour,
           Every boy would find what I found in your arms
“You know babe, I was thinking we should install a pet door for the dog” he spoke, still swaying you to the music, his fingers drawing circles on your back, holding you tight.
“We don’t have a dog, silly.” You shook your head at him, giggling, placing a soft kiss on his jaw.
“I think it would be a good first addition to our little family” he grinned back.
That sentence had the power to send a wave of warm contentment through your entire body. This new house together had started to make him think of the rest of his life with you by his side, and the family he knew you would create together, the purest symbol of your love. It felt like everything in his life had finally started to fall into place, and he was beaming to finally be able to start his life with you. A new beginning with the women of his dreams.
           You rest your head on his broad chest, feeling the thud of his heartbeat spring through your ears. Keanu kept swaying gently with you tangled in his arms. Softly, he brought his cheek down to rest on top of your head, as he softly sang along to the song, making sure you could hear the outpour of his love gushing onto you.
           As he closed his eyes with you pressed flush against his skin, arms around his neck, he hummed the last segment of the song, before placing a kiss in your hair.
           Your love made it well worth waiting
           For someone
           Like you.
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the-unshaped · 3 years
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CHAPTER ONE: WELCOME BACK TO BEACON HILLS
Chapter Text
"How's the first day back?"
Stiles Stilinski grinned as his oldest friend, Scott, slapped a strong hand on his shoulder. After what felt like a million years away from each other, he was back, his best friend standing beside him. It was a fantastic feeling.
Walking into the school was bizarre. He had felt nostalgia in the past but nothing to this extent before. Maybe it was because his last school was so much larger, but it seemed like every year they were making noticeable changes. Beacon Hills, on the other hand, was exactly how he remembered. The same white and black speckled linoleum floors, same painted mascot on the walls, same old lockers, same trophy cases lining the main hall.
Stiles was stoked.
Even the classes he'd taken so far, which would have ordinarily bored him since he'd learned a lot of what they were going over already, left him feeling almost giddy. The teachers didn't seem to share the sentiment, but fuck them. He wasn't going to let Finstock calling him Billinski a million times drag him down today.
Stiles and Scott had met up the day before, his dad surprising him with dinner and his childhood best friend as a gift for finishing all his unpacking, but it was even more exciting to know he was going to see him every day. They had talked at least once a week after Stiles finally broke and got Facebook eighth grade year and even more when they both had online gaming, almost every day. It was like they'd never stopped.
Stiles had been begging his dad to move back since the day they left, and he only got more persistent after his reunion with Scott, but no matter how hard he tried to convince him, no dice. That is until his dad's college friend, Adam Wilder, let him know that the Beacon Hills was offering full ride scholarships to the college of their choice to the top 5 graduates and was in need of a new sheriff. Not even John could refuse that kind of help. Despite his worry that he wouldn't be accepted as a transfer, he took a chance and put in an application. A month later and a million moving boxes later, Stiles was leaving his fancy Sacramento apartment and on his way home.
"Not bad, Scott. I've got Dad, my best bud, and my nightmares of a poorly-aged Lydia can finally be absolved because she is still as much of a goddess as the day I left, dare I say more. All is right with the world," he said, eyeing the lean strawberry blonde haired girl down the hall. Scott winced, and pulled at his lock, freeing it from the metal loop before opening it and shoving his math book inside. "I definitely missed this place. What more could I ask for?”
Scott scoffed and scuffed the toes of his shoes against the floor. "I can't imagine why anyone would miss this place."
Stiles eyed him, unsure if he was playing around or not. Leaving Beacon Hills, for him, felt like tearing off a limb, leaving something messy, jagged and bloody in its place. Sacramento hadn't been bad, per se. He made awesome grades and was in a club or two every year. He had some people that could pass as friends he hung out with occasionally, but it wasn't the same as the life he had in Beacon Hills. Also losing a limb, Stiles had survived the initial pain and adapted, but at the end of the day, he knew that it wasn't there and could feel the ache of its absence.
Stiles knew he was meant to be there. It was where he was born m. Where he learned how to tie his shoes and write his name. Where he and Scott made a terrible mess in the kitchen making treats for a fundraiser, and Melissa made them clean all day after school, scolding them even as she ate the last remaining cupcake. It was home.
The only difference between losing a limb and losing Beacon Hills was that there was always a voice in the back of his mind telling him that he could get it back, if only he could convince his dad. It was only a few hours away, and he would eventually be able to choose where he lived. Luckily he hadn't had to wait that long.
Stiles shrugged off Scott's dismissal. "I'm sure you'd miss it once you left."
Stiles closed his locker, and noticed Scott had gone quiet. He took a peek over his shoulder as he clamped his padlock shut and realized he had his eyes trained on an adorable brunette talking to a fierce looking blonde he had noticed earlier in their math class. Stiles looked between them a dorky smirk spreading across his face.
"You are so obvious, man. Your tail is practically wagging."
Scott's eyes shot up, eyebrows knit together. "What?"
"That girl. The brunette. You have your 'unrequited pining' look on your face," Stiles explained, shutting his locker door. Scott frowned, crossing his arms, even as he snuck another peek at her.
"It's not that obvious," Scott muttered.
"I've literally only been here for," he looked at her phone, then back up at Brennan, "three hours and forty-five minutes and I knew the moment you looked at her."
Stiles looked at Scott's downtrodden face then brightened. "Wait, is that Allison? Like love of your life, scary but amazing, Allison?"
The blonde glanced over at them, smirking at Scott. Stiles didn't seem to notice. Even if he had he would have no reason to suspect that she could hear anything he said, but Scott knew differently. He flushed, wrapping his arm around Stiles shoulder, whipping him around to face the lockers in a huddle.
"Dude," Scott hissed. "Keep it down."
"It is her! Holy crap," Stiles laughed. Scott just pouted, his eyebrows still pulled together.
"Yeah, yeah. You're brilliant. Can you shut up now?"
"Come on. You act like people are listening," Stiles said, craning his head around to look at the near bustling halls. "Trust me, we aren't that interesting."
"Speak for yourself. I'm plenty interesting."
"Oh yeah? Let my go ask how interesting you are," Stiles teased. "Yo, All-!"
Scott clamped a hand over his mouth, and Stiles was quick to retaliate.
"Did you seriously just lick me? How old are you? Stiles. Stop it!"
Scott dropped his hand with a scowl, wiping it on his dark jeans.
"I'll have you know, licking people could solve approximately 80% of the world's problems," Stiles said, hitting Scott suggestively. "Speaking of licking, how the hell did you get so built? I thought you sucked at sports."
Scott's scowl bled into a full blown grin, ignoring Stiles' sexual remark. "That was last year. A lot has changed. Now hurry up or we're going to miss lunch. And please try to control yourself a little, okay?"
Stiles gave him a questioning look, but didn't ask. He followed Scott through the halls, weaving through the people, trying to connect names to old familiar faces. Some people were easier to remember than others. He would catch flashes of memories from t-ball and baseball practices, or stories her dad had told him on the car ride here. He had only ever really been close to Scott before they left, but the familiarity was calming in a way he hadn't expected.
Stiles couldn't help but grin when they pushed through the heavy doors to the cafeteria.
The walls were a less than white white, dull and slightly grimy with age. They had long rectangular tables instead of the faux wood round ones at his old school, but honestly he liked these better, even if it was just a bit too much white all together for his taste. Too much like a hospital.
"Wow it hasn't changed at all," Stiles chirped. "I bet Mrs. Green still has that wild chin hair, too."
As if she could hear him, Mrs. Green looked up at him with a scowl. He waved at her excitedly, a lopsided grin painted on his face, and Scott shook his head in amusement.
"Hi, Mrs. Green!"
As they made their way through the food line, Stiles reminisced over the meatloaf and asked if they still had the breakfast pizza with white gravy and sausage balls he loved so much. Scott couldn't help but get secondhand excitement. It had been so long since he had felt normal like this. Not that he didn't like his life or that he didn't enjoy things the way they were, but having a friend that wasn't constantly caught up in his problems was nicer than he had expected it to be.
Stiles continued chattering excitedly up until the moment Scott sat down. At a table. With people. Very hot people. Stiles looked down at Scott with wide eyes, his mouth agape. Lydia Martin. Scott was friends with Lydia fucking Martin? How had this not made it into their text messages?!
Scott cleared his throat, obviously embarrassed.
"Guys, you remember Stiles, right? Stiles, that's Lydia, Allison, Isaac, Jackson, Boyd, and Erica. Cora normally sits with us but I think she-well, actually I'm not sure where she is today."
Stiles' eyes followed down the line, his face flushing. What the fresh hell? Scott was attractive in a totally platonic, nothing sexual way, and he would be blantantly lying if he said he hadn't noticed how fit he was now, but how the hell did they go from being the lanky dorks in class to Scott having supermodel-esque friends?
He immediately recognized some of the faces. Lydia, obviously. Scary hot blonde and Scott's crush, obviously Allison, from the hallway. Then, if his friends being hot wasn't weird enough, he realized with a start who the thin muscular guy was.
"Jackson. Jackson Whittemore? As in the Jackson Whittemore who shoved my Batman figure down the toilet?"
Stiles shook his head incredulously at Scott, like he had been personally victimized by the very thought of his seating partner, and Scott buried his face in his hands. Allison laughed, a musical sound that he had heard about in many different phone calls.
"You shoved his Batman down the toilet?"
Jackson smirked, shrugging slightly.
"Poor guy. So you were always a dick," Erica teased, peeking over the lip of her glass of water.
"We were like 6. I'm sure he's fine," Jackson said, leveling Stiles with a less than pitying glare.
Stiles muttered the contrary gruffly under his breath.
"You sure look tasty. Why didn't you tell us he was so fine, Scott?"
Stiles flushed at the blonde's words, not knowing how to comment to that. He looked to Scott for help, but he just shrugged as if to say, "she's always like this."
The man beside Erica, Boyd if Stiles recalled correctly, rolled his eyes, a knowing look on his face. He wrapped his arm around her and whispered something to her that made her giggle in delight, and Stiles was kind of scared to know what he said to make that noise come out of her.
Stiles, shifted back and forth on his feet, still standing awkwardly near the table holding his tray. He looked at the spot beside Scott, unsure. Out of everything he had prepared for today, this definitely wasn't it.
"You going to sit down Stilinski?" Jackson sneered.
"Actually I was thinking of enjoying my food standing up," Stiles shot back, biting into his roll dramatically. "I'd hate for anything else I love to end up in the toilet."
Scott grabbed the back of his jacket and pulled him down onto the bench with strength Stiles didn't know he had. He scowled but kept his mouth closed.
"Well, it's nice to meet you Stiles," Allison said. "Scott talks about you a lot. Like a lot a lot."
"Well isn't that a coincidence, because-" Scott jabbed him in the ribs as hard as he could under the table. Allison smiled bashfully and Lydia rolled her eyes.
"Ow! Stupid overnight muscles," Stiles muttered, rubbing his side. "Not fair."
"You know you aren't going to be eligible for Valedictorian or Salutatorian right?" Lydia asked suddenly, clamping her compact mirror shut. "The policy is that you have to be present for the entirety of your Junior and Senior year to qualify."
Stiles shrugged, trying to keep his overeager inner 9 year old self at bay. "Yeah my dad wasn't thrilled about that, but I told him I didn't care. My GPA is all that really matters. Well, that and my SATs and ACTs."
Lydia gave him an adorable half smile. "Its a shame. It will be nice to have some competition around, regardless. Scott says you're quite the diligent student."
Stiles gave Scott a look that he was too busy ogling to notice. That was strange. That was the second time they mentioned Scott talking about him, yet he knew nothing about any of them. "Is that right?"
Lydia quirked her head, looking between the two, and made a mental note of it.
The rest of lunch went by fairly smoothly, but Stiles couldn't really focus on the various conversations going on around the table, too busy trying to figure everyone out. He could tell that obviously Erica and Boyd were a couple, despite the remark about his attractiveness. Even surrounded by friends, and them frequently chatting with other people instead of each other, he could almost see the personal bubble they had around themselves, so thick it was almost tangible.
From what he could see, Allison and Lydia seemed to be best friends. He wasn't exactly surprised, pretty people always seemed to attract other pretty people, but the vibes they gave off were very different. They were constantly having silent conversations between themselves, checking for opinions as they listened to other people's stories and laughing at inside jokes together. Luckily for Scott, he noticed her eyes would stray over to him frequently, especially when he would start to laugh over something silly.
The most interesting observation seemed to be that while Stiles was away, Scott, Jackson and Isaac had gotten pretty close. Stiles didn't really remember much about Isaac, but he seemed nice enough. He was actually a lot like Stiles in that he was fairly smart, sarcastic, and generally nice to be around, but he had a air of newly self-built confidence around him.
Jackson was the opposite, but to Stiles' surprise, he wasn't as bad as he remembered. Jackson exuded cockiness, that he expected, but he could tell that Jackson was a lot less of a jerk than he used to be when he handed the rest of his food to Isaac before he even had the chance to ask for it. Stiles figured he would be the hardest one to understand, because nothing he said was actually what he meant.
Stiles' thoughts were interrupted when Scott tried to reel Stiles into a conversation about lacrosse, but Stiles was contented to listen to the three guys recap the season so far.
Stiles gradually started feeling a bit more comfortable than he had in the beginning, but something kept nagging at him in the back of his mind: why had Scott told his friends so much about him, yet Stiles was clueless about them? He had heard about Allison, mostly because that was all he talked about, but why hadn't he ever heard of his friendships with the others, especially after Stiles found out he was going to be moving back? They all seemed close. Really, really close. They talked about hanging out on weekends, going to movies, and playing video games all weekend, yet Stiles couldn't remember a single time Scott ever mentioned them.
It was strange. Stiles knew that it was crazy of him to make assumptions from a few passing comments, but something in his gut told him Scott was hiding something.
"Do you have any classes with us?" Isaac asked, holding out his hand expectantly. Stiles shifted so he could pull his schedule from his back pocket and handed it to him. Isaac and Allison looked over it intently, and Jackson snuck a peek, trying and failing to look like he didn't care.
"Chemistry with Scott and Isaac, Math with Scott and Erica, most of the classes with Boyd or Erica if not both, AP classes with Me and Lydia. How did you manage not to have a single class with Jackson?" Allison asked.
"Lucky I guess," Stiles grinned.
Jackson rolled his eyes and Scott elbowed him again. Stiles sucked in air through his teeth and rubbed it until the pain faded. #WorthIt.
"So Scott said your dad is the new Sheriff," Boyd said. It was the first time Boyd had spoken out loud.
"Yeah, he was a deputy here when we lived here before. I guess enough people remembered him from back in the day that when he was nominated, people accepted him."
"Did he tell you how the position opened up?"
Everyone at the table stopped, and eyes were on him. If they were trying to seem subtle, they had definitely failed. Fortunately, though, this Stiles had anticipated. He considered whether he should divulge his true opinions or keep his ideas to himself. After an encouraging nod from Scott, he shrugged.
"Dad told me what they are telling people happened, yeah," he said.
Boyd's flitted to Scott, then he forced a small smile.
"You say that like you don't believe the story."
"I don't."
Boyd looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for him to elaborate. Erica squeezed his arm gently, not tearing her eyes from Stiles, keeping her expression soft. Scott gave him a look and Stiles relented.
Stiles sighed. "My Dad is going to kill me." He looked up to the ceiling as if he were praying for strength to survive. "They are saying it was a mugging or something near the park. That the guy was at the wrong place at the wrong time, got his stuff taken and killed for his trouble."
"That's what I heard too. Sounds reasonable enough, right?" Allison asked, laughing nervously.
Stiles scoffed. "Sure, if he was getting mugged by Wolverine. I haven't seen the crime scene photos yet, but from the conversations I've heard the last few days about the absolute carnage left behind, I don't see how it could be just a simple mugging. They're missing something, they just don't want to admit it yet."
Stiles pretended not to notice Scott tensing beside him. It was no secret Scott wasn't a fan of blood, but he didn't want to embarrass him by pointing it out.
"What does that even mean?" Lydia asked.
"What does what mean?"
"Mugged by Wolverine?"
"Wolverine. You know. X-Men. Wolver-you don't-you don't know who Wolverine is?" Stiles asked, his hands flailing then falling flat on the table, his eyebrows furrowed in distress.
She gave him an incredulous look, her perfect curls bouncing as she shook her head. He ran his hand down his face.
Jackson handed Lydia his phone and her lips turned down. "Man in tights. Not bad."
Allison rolled her eyes and the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.
"Nice to meet you, again, Stiles," Allison said again, grabbing her bag and pulling it over her shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, it was truly a pleasure. I need to borrow your calculator so let's go," Jackson said, ushering her away. Scott huffed beside him, and Stiles rolled his eyes. Scott was as oblivious as always.
*****
Everything was messed up.
Cora honestly couldn't decide which was worse, living states away with a bunch of strangers that she couldn't get along with to save her life, or finally being able to come home and dealing with all the frivolous drama that came with it.
Don't get her wrong, she was glad that Derek allowed her to come back home. She loved him and she was really glad that finally someone was starting to treat her like an adult, but having to deal with school and her brother's complicated Pack dynamics was stressful.
Being back home was annoying. Living in South America was worse.
Being away from her home, the last bit of family she had left, it had almost killed her. She didn't want to eat. She couldn't sleep. When she did sleep, it was interrupted by nightmares. Often times she would wake up in the dark, thinking the smoke had enveloped her completely. If that weren't enough, she felt more isolated than she had in her whole life. She was the only human in the Pack, which she was used to, but at least when she was home she was bonded with her family.
She sat in the library, head in her hands, trying not to think about all of the homework assignments that were piling up. Derek had said school was one of the conditions to her moving back in with him, but what exactly did that mean? What was he going to do when she got her grades back? Was he going to ship her back off like Laura had? Would he even feel bad?
She sighed. That wasn't fair. Derek had never wanted her to go, but when Laura decided on something, there wasn't really anything anyone could do to change her mind. As much as Cora didn't want to, she was going to have to talk to him. Good thing talking about feelings was a Hale family specialty.
When the bell rang for lunch, she rolled her eyes. As if her brother and his Pack didn't have enough to argue about, Scott's token human friend was supposed to have his first day today. Not that she wasn't curious what all the hype was about, but she didn't understand why Scott was fighting so hard to let his friend in on all their secrets when he was constantly pointing out how dangerous it was to let Cora stay here.
So, just to spite him, she was here, continuing to work on homework she didn't know how to do, and was too stubborn to ask for help with.
Before she knew it, lunch was over with only a little bit of progress to show for it. She walked begrudgingly to Chemistry, knowing that Harris was probably going to pester her about her revisions from their lab the previous week.
Cora walked to her spot, sitting down, dramatically opening her Chemistry book. Her up and coming best friend, Nina, nudged her with her shoulder has she settled in beside her.
"Did you hear there was a new senior?"
"Unfortunately," She replied icily, pulling a snack from her bag. Nina gave her an odd look. She interpreted it as "what the fuck is up with you?" despite the fact that Nina would never actually use those words. "Apparently he's going to be hanging around my brother's group."
"Oh," Nina smirked, knowingly. "The Hot Hale Harem?"
Cora almost choked on her granola bar, making Nina's smirk grow to a full on grin. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"You love me."
Cora rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help but laugh with her. Nina was different, but she honestly found it kind of refreshing. It was hard for her to remember to think about normal things like boys and shopping, but Nina didn't mind pulling her into her normie girl stuff.
"So, I was thinking," Nina started.
Cora took a deep breath. "No."
"You didn't even hear what I was going to say," she pouted.
"Fine. It'll still be a no, but continue."
"So you know how we have that test on Friday? I was thinking we could invite the guys to study with us."
(Find the rest on AO3 href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27811303"><strong>The Unshaped</strong></a> (16100 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infernal_panda"><strong>Infernal_panda</strong></a><br />Chapters: 2/?<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Teen%20Wolf%20(TV)">Teen Wolf (TV)</a><br />Rating: Not Rated<br />Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence<br />Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes<br />Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Peter Hale, Cora Hale, Laura Hale<br />Additional Tags: BAMF Stiles, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pining, Underage Drinking, Fluff, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Friendship, Humor, Slow Burn, Slow Build, Supernatural Elements, mentions of abuse, eventually, Happy Ending<br />Summary: <p>After leaving Beacon Hills at age 8, Stiles never stopped feeling the indescribable pull, beckoning him back home. A new Sheriff position opening up gives him the chance to move back, and it’s everything Stiles ever wanted. He has his dad, his best friend, and he’s back where he belongs. </p><p>His first day back doesn’t exactly go as planned, and now he is finding that he was even less normal than he thought. </p><p>****</p><p>A Hale Pack fanfic with all of our lovable characters as they try to integrate Stiles into their wolfyhood and crazy monster-filled lives with Stiles as their unknowing magic friend, and a bit of intertwined fates to keep things interesting )
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