Derek Hale X Reader - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

The Tell 1x05

Episode 6

Being stuck at home with Michael wasn’t the worst thing in the world for Fallon. Would she rather be out with Noah and Stiles sitting in his police cruiser? Yes. But her dad has been apparently lacking quality time with his only daughter, and wants to “catch up.” His words, not hers. She somehow earned some freedom as Michae sent her out to go rent a movie from the video store about five minutes away from their house.

She shoots her dad a text, letting him know she arrived. Her plan was to get the Iron Man movie and just head back home. But to her surprise, when she removes her helmet and steps off her bike, Jackson is also walking into the store. Lydia sits alone in the car, adjusting her makeup in the mirror before taking her own phone out.

Before Lydia could spot her, Fallon rushes inside. It’s not that she didn’t want to talk to the strawberry blonde, it’s just that she knows she’ll get roped in to do something with the couple, and she doesn’t want to have to explain that she’s on lockdown.

The entire store is basically all window panes, which is a great advertising tactic as everyone can see their wide selection of merchandise. The tiny bell rings overhead as she walks in and her feet carry her to the superhero section on the right side of the shop.

She runs her fingers along the spines of each DVD before finding the one that she desires. She plucks it out with a grin, getting ready to go checkout. Or at least she was until she heard Jackson call out for some assistance.

“Can somebody help me find The Notebook?”

The brunette stops in her tracks. She could just continue on with her night, pretending she didn’t hear the boy. But seeing as no one else in the abandoned store is coming to his aid, she might as well do the nice thing.

She pokes her head around the corner, “Well, I’m pretty sure one of the biggest romance movies of all time isn’t gonna be in the sports section,” she says playfully, walking up to him.

Jackson turns around, surprised to see a familiar face. “Donovan,” he looks at her with wide eyes. He crosses his arms and frowns at her sarcasm, “Yeah, no shit. I think I know that.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” she tilts her head before gesturing for him to come with her. “Follow me. It should be over here.”

She guides him around the corner and over to where the romance section is. It has to be the biggest part of the store which only makes it more humorous that Jackson still couldn’t seem to find it. Her eyes scan over all the disks, fingers running over each one as she searches for the Ryan Gosling film. No doubt Lydia’s choice in film as Jackson would never willingly see this on his own accord.

“I’m surprised you’re here by yourself,” the blonde comments with a hidden meaning. “I didn’t think your drug dealer boyfriend would be so lenient with you being out at night.”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, her head snapping towards him, “I’m sorry?” She asks for clarification.

“The high-as-a-kite white guy who came into the school asking about you and Scott,” he explains with a disgusted look on his face.

Fallon realizes he’s talking about Derek. She shakes her head with a laugh, “I can assure you, he’s not my boyfriend.” She pulls The Notebook out of its rightful place on the shelf, handing it to the blonde.

He takes the DVD from her with a small nod, “Well, he seemed pretty pissed off when he couldn’t find you. He looked desperate. So I just assumed he was your boyfriend looking for a midday quickie,” he voices his thoughts. “Since you’re way too much of a goody goody to have a dealer.”

“First of all, you’re disgusting for even thinking I would stoop as low as a midday quickie. Second of all, if I wanted a dealer, I could get one,” she states confidently. “But I choose not to ruin my body or my life, so yeah.”

“I don’t think your boyfriend has the same concerns,” Jackson tells her as the two of them start to walk towards the checkout counter.

Fallon exhales loudly, “For the last time, he’s not my boyfrie–”

The brunette’s breath catches in her throat as they round the corner and come face to face with the dead store employee. She stumbles backwards into Jackson, the boy placing his hands on her waist to steady her. The man’s throat is ripped apart, his mouth hanging open as if he tried to scream for help but never got the chance to. Jackson tries to pull Fallon away from the scene, but ends up hitting the tall ladder behind them. It tips over, knocking down one of the light panels above their heads.

They scream as it narrowly misses falling on them. Fallon splutters, “W-we have to–” Jackson shushes her as they maneuver through the aisles. “He’s dead, Jackson,” she whisper yells. “We need to call the police.”

He shakes his head, pulling her towards the door as fast as he can, “No, what we need to do is get the hell out of here!” His face is pale and scared, similar to hers.

The two of them freeze in the middle of the store as the lights go completely out. Fallon clutches his hand tightly, him doing the same. A deep growl erupts behind the two and she can feel her insides trying to become her outsides. She and Jackson both slowly turn around and are met with a pair of glowing red eyes. Fallon swallows thickly as she tries to steady her breathing and pulse rate, but fear is the only thing on her mind.

Jackson yanks her to the side, pushing her up against one of the many shelves of DVD’s. Their backs are pressed firmly against it as they try to remain as quiet as possible. Fallon’s heart is practically pounding out of her chest, making her have an instant headache. She bites her fist as the Alpha’s loud footsteps echo around the store. A loud banging is heard and some discs fall on top of the two of them causing them both to tense up. Fallon peeks her head around the corner, trying to gauge where this thing is. Unfortunately, her search is cut short when every single shelf in the line up they’re hiding in starts to fall forward like dominos.

“Crap!” She exclaims, getting up on her feet to jump out of the way. She tries to pull Jackson along with her, but she’s too late. Right as he’s about to be in the clear, the last shelf snags his leg, crushing him with its weight.

Fallon rushes back to him, kneeling down as she tries to lift the shelf off of him. She grunts loudly, using every ounce of strength she has to try and free him. The shelf lifts slightly, but not enough to help get his lower half out. “Come on,” she pleads, continuing to power lift as much as she could.

The shelf suddenly becomes much heavier. Fallon yelps as her fingers are almost crushed by the shelf sinking down onto Jackson. When she looks up, she is staring into two bright red eyes. She swears her soul leaves her body at that moment. Its breath is hot against her face. The girl wants to run, scream, but she can’t move. It simply peers at her and Jackson, analyzing their every move. She’s paralyzed by her fear. The creature glances at Jackson before fully focusing on the brunette knelt in front of him. She squeezes her eyes shut as his claws graze the side of her face, but he doesn’t scratch her. Her chest rises and falls at a rapid rate as she processes what could be her last few moments alive. The Alpha leans forward, sniffing the brunette which makes her dig her nails into her hands to keep from making any sudden movements.

Suddenly he pulls away. She opens her eyes again and it looks as if he’s almost smirking at her. Like he knows who she is. Her mouth falls open as the werewolf growls loudly before running away from her and Jackson. He crashes into the front window panels, making his escape. The only thing Fallon hears is Lydia’s scream before trying to pull Jackson out once more.

—-

Fallon’s eyes are cloudy and distant as she barely tunes into the EMT talking to her. He tries to wrap a blanket around her shoulders but she slowly shakes her head, putting her hands up. “I’m okay,” she mutters lowly. “I just wanna go home.” Her voice sounds broken, like she’s crying but no tears are falling from her eyes. Lydia on the other hand accepts all of the help the paramedics give her. The strawberry blonde is more disheveled than her two counterparts. Jackson has a more angry aura about him. Fallon isn’t surprised that’s his method of coping with the situation. That seems to be his go to when he doesn’t know how to handle things. Not that she can judge. All she’s doing is shutting down which is no help to anyone.

“Paul, let’s get this area locked up.”

Life fills Fallon’s eyes at the familiar voice of Noah Stilinski. She feels a wave of relief wash over her when she sees him walking towards them. Noah’s eyes soften when he sees the terrified teen, “Fall? Are you okay, sweetheart?” He asks gently, pulling her into a hug.

He can feel her shaking in his arms, but she still nods her head, “I’m fine. I just really wanna go home.”

“I know, kiddo,” he whispers. “But you know the drill. They gotta take you to the hospital to make sure there’s nothing seriously wrong.”

“Please?” She begs him. “I feel fine. I really just want to go. You can even take me,” she tries to propose.

He sighs, going to respond but is cut off by an angry Jackson stomping over to him. “Why the hell cant I just go home?” He asks irritably. He’s being asked to go to the hospital as well. “I’m fine.”

“I hear ya,” Noah says calmly. “But the EMT says you and Fallon took some pretty massive hits in there. They just wanna make sure you guys don't have a concussion.”

“What part of "I'm fine" are you having a problem grasping?” Jackson snaps, getting in Noah’s face. “Okay, I want to go home.”

“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!” The blonde screams.

“Jackson,” Fallon scolds him with one glare. “He’s just doing his job. It’s a basic process. I want to go home too, but we have to let them do their thing.”

Jackson goes to argue but their attention is diverted, “Oh, whoa! Is that a dead body?”

Fallon watches as Stiles points to the dead employee, vomit threatening to escape her lips as she sees his limp arm falling out from underneath the white sheet. Sheriff Stilinski sends his son a pointed look, huffing in annoyance, “Everybody back up. Back up,” he instructs.

She looks over at Stiles who seems to be struggling on deciding whether to get back in the car or to run over to his now traumatized best friend. Fallon makes the decision easier as she slowly travels over to him. He looks over her form, his heart breaking when he sees how scared she looks. She practically falls into his arms, wrapping her own around his shoulders. Her body trembles softly as small sobs leave her mouth.

Stiles looks shocked. Fallon isn’t a big crier. Not unless she has a reason. He holds her tightly, pulling her in by her waist. “I got you,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Fall. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. You’re safe.”

“It was him,” she managed to whisper. “The Alpha. He was right in front of me, Stiles,” she explains, wiping any evidence of her tears away. “He touched me, smelled me, and then he just ran away.”

He furrows his eyebrows, “What? Why would he–”

“I don’t know,” she answers quickly. “I don’t know why he did any of that. Or why he didn’t kill me and Jackson ‘cause he could have. He had every chance to. It doesn’t make sense.”

A fierce determination lights behind Stiles’ eyes, “Hey, we’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll talk to Scott.” He brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “Just don’t freak out too much, okay? I know you’re scared, but I promise, I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

“Stiles,” Noah calls out as he walks over to the two kids. Jackson is still complaining loudly making the sheriff sigh and probably have an internal breakdown. “Why don’t you let Fallon sit in the car with you?” He suggests. “As long as you promise that you feel fine,” he says to the girl.

She nods, “I do. I’m alright.”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Then just give me a couple minutes to wrap this up and then I’ll drop you off at home, alright?”

Fallon surges forward, hugging the man again, “Thank you.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

After being dropped off by Noah and Stiles, her father had gotten a long winded explanation on what happened. So when Fallon decided to forgo the movie, Michael was more than understanding. He made her a bowl of popcorn anyway, allowing her to retreat up to her room for some much needed alone time.

She lays on her bed, her laptop quietly playing episodes of Gossip Girl to keep her distracted. She lazily takes a handful of popcorn, putting it in her mouth. She closes her eyes and relishes in the different seasonings and splash of lemon she puts on it. Stiles and Scot have always made fun of that little quirk of hers, but she can’t help loving it.

She tries to focus on the silky smooth voice of Chuck Bass, but the only thing her mind can seem to do is remind her of the dead man in the video store. His mutilated face plagues her mind, no matter how hard she tries to think of something else. She feels a high level of frustration, knowing that she can’t miss school tomorrow. Most of her teachers are understanding, but if she were to miss Mr. Harris’s class, she’d be screwed. He wouldn’t take pity on her even if she was in a full body cast.

Michael tried to talk to her after the Stilinski’s left, but she wasn’t very responsive. He tried to reassure her that nothing like that would ever happen again, but she knows that’s not true. The likelihood of running into the Alpha again, especially with her connection to Scott and Derek is high.

She just wishes she had more information. Like why the Alpha was there. Why did he kill that employee specifically, but spare her and Jackson? She could still see its blood red eyes staring into her soul. The way its claws touched her face made shivers run down her spine. Its hot, stinky breath still lingers on her skin. Did he pick up on Scott’s scent? Maybe Derek’s? She did just have his vomit plastered on her skin not too long ago.

Fallon sits up, staring at the now empty bowl of popcorn in front of her. She frowns, wishing she could still eat away her feelings. The urge to walk into the kitchen and grab a pint of ice cream is strong, but her desire to waste away in her bed rules out. She thought watching Serena and Blair argue for the fortieth time would be enough to make her feel something, but she just didn’t. Either she really is traumatized or she needs sleep.

She shuts her laptop, laying down on her wide array of pillows. She chooses the second option, figuring if the other one is true that she can decide that in the morning. She rubs her tired eyes, everything becoming blurry as sleep threatens to overtake her. Her desk in the distance looks like an oddly shaped blob, different papers scattered around it that she completely forgot about. She glances out the window, the only thing in sight is the stars and towering trees. The small amount of light from the waxing crescent shining through. She feels a sense of serenity, until suddenly the light is blocked by a looming figure standing in the way.

Fallon shoots up from her spot, immediately reaching for the pair of scissors on her night stand. She slowly inches around her bed as the figure opens her window. The glass slides open easily due to her bad habit of always leaving her window unlocked for Scott and Stiles. Right as the stranger sets foot in her room, she launches her entire body, scissors ready to stab whoever it is. A small gasp leaves her mouth as a hand grabs her wrist, spinning her around and pinning her arm behind her back.

She looks behind her, “What the hell?” She furrows her eyebrows, dropping the scissors to the floor. Her back is still pressed to his chest, him holding her in place. “You’re not the Alpha,” she breathes out.

Derek lets her go, gently spinning her around. “You thought I was the Alpha?”

Fallon nods with wide eyes, “Uh, yeah,” she states obviously. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but the thing touched me. He smelled me like I was a five course meal. It’s all I can really think about. So when I see a shadowy figure climbing through my window, that’s gonna be my assumption,” she breathes out, her chest heaving up and down from the adrenaline.

Fallon took the time to look the werewolf up and down. He looks exactly the same as he always does. Tight fitting t-shirt covered by one of his many leather jackets along with a pair of jeans. His hair is black and messy like usual. She never really took the time before to look at it. Maybe that’s what adds to his “stay away” personality. The dark and mysterious hair. She thinks back to the conversation she had with Stiles when Scott was on the bus. She really wouldn’t mind running her hands through it.

She shakes her head of the thoughts when she realizes she’s been just staring at him for an oddly long period of time. She crosses her arms over chest, “What are you doing here?”

Derek shrugs, “I was there with Scott,” he reveals. “I didn’t know you were in there until we saw the EMT’s pull you and Jackson out. I know you saw the body.” She swears his eyes soften for a moment before he asks, “Are you okay?” But she could’ve easily just imagined it. She nods her head silently and he tilts his own, “Can you tell me about what happened?”

She looks apprehensive at first, but ultimately decides it would be best for him to know everything. She sighs, sitting down on her bed. “I was there trying to find a movie for me and my dad,” she begins. Derek hesitantly sits down beside her on the bed, eyes staying on her form. He nods, encouraging her to continue. “Jackson and Lydia ended up being there. He asked for help trying to find The Notebook and I went to go help him. We found it and went to check out and that’s when I found the dead guy,” she explains. “After that Jackson and I ran into a ladder, almost got crushed by a lighting panel, and that’s when we saw the Alpha.”

“You said he smelled you,” Derek brings up. Fallon just nods silently at his words. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she admits quietly, the crease in her eyebrows becoming deeper. “I’ve been thinking about it. I thought maybe it smelled Scott since he’s a part of his pack and all. Like he has a sensitivity to Scott’s scent or something. But then I thought he might’ve smelled your scent because you kind of threw up all over me the other day,” she nudged him teasingly. “But what freaks me out is that it looked at me like it knew who I was. He had an almost smirk on his face. Like he got off knowing I was scared. I don’t know why he attacked that guy and left me and Jackson alone. I don’t know what his original plan was. Why he didn’t bite either of us,” she shakes her head as she continues to try and figure it out with her own logic. “It didn’t make sense. I mean, maybe he didn’t know who I was, but formed some sort of plan for me on the spot, I don’t know,” Fallon drops her hand into her hands, rubbing her eyes frustratedly.

“You think he might come back for you?”

“God, I hope not,” she laughs humorlessly. “That would be unfortunate.”

“If he bit you?” Derek wonders.

“Well…” Fallon huffs, “I don’t know. If he came back for me and killed me that would kinda suck. But I guess it wouldn’t be the most unfortunate thing if he bit me.” She shrugs, looking Derek in the eye. “It’s not everyday you get the opportunity to have the strength of a superhero.”

“So you’d be okay with it? If he were to try and turn you.” He looks almost perplexed with her outlook on it.

“I wouldn’t say I’d be okay with it, but I wouldn’t be trying to get rid of it like Scott has been,” she says. “I’d probably just be a little nervous.”

“You’re already nervous,” Derek points out.

“Thanks,” she rolls her eyes at his bluntness. “Trust me, I know.”

“But it’s impressive how you’ve been handling it,” he concedes.

She smirks slightly, “Did you just compliment me?” She questions playfully.

Derek rolls his eyes, “No. I’m just giving you credit. Don’t turn it into something it’s not.”

“Well, thanks for the credit that sounded a lot like a compliment,” she flops backwards on her bed, her head hitting the soft mattress with a small smile.

“Did you ever finish the book you were reading in the woods the other day?” He asks, seeming to be genuinely curious. “You looked pretty into it.”

Fallon looks at him, her irises flashing downwards in his direction. She pats the spot next to her, telling him to lay down too. She doesn’t think he’s going to by the unsure expression, but is pleasantly surprised as he lowers himself down. Now they’re both just staring at the ceiling, but for whatever reason, it’s comfortable.

“I did,” she answers. “I finished it the day after. I’m already almost done with the next one.”

“Do you ever not read?”

She nods, “When I’m playing lacrosse. Or studying. Or doing homework,” she lists off. “But other than that, I’m usually reading.”

He moves his head to the side so he can look at her, remaining on his back. “Why do you like to read so much?”

Fallon sighs. She feels herself about to open up and be vulnerable, and she doesn’t like it. It’s not Derek’s fault, it just usually takes a minute for her to say anything personal. Derek can sense her change in mood, “You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want,” he says stoically. “I was just wondering.”

“No, it’s okay,” she reassures him, flipping on her side to fully face him. “It’s just something my mom and I used to do a lot when I was a kid. She would bring a small cup of coffee for her and a hot chocolate for me, and we’d just sit at our kitchen table and read while my dad was away,” her eyes turn flicker with bittersweet memories as she recalls that time in her life. “She’s the reason I like to read.”

Derek doesn’t know the story behind Fallon’s mother, but judging by the aroma of sadness filling the room and the fact he’s never seen the woman, he can assume that she’s no longer around. Fallon suddenly feels very awkward at the sad shift in the atmosphere. “Anyway…” she clears her throat, “I’m like ten pages away from finishing The Prisoner of Azkaban, so, yeah. I spend a lot of time with my nose in a book.”

“Most of my family died in a fire,” he says. Fallon stiffens at his words. She already knew that, but he’s never said anything about it. At least not to her. She doesn’t know how to handle him saying something so intimate about himself. “My mom, my siblings. Some of them were human.”

She watches as his jaw clenches in anger, “It was the hunters… wasn’t it?” She asks softly, coming to the conclusion from the previous signs she’s gathered from speaking to him.

He nods, “The Argent’s.”

Then it all clicks, “That’s why you don’t think Scott should trust Allison,” she realizes.

“She’s going to end up just like them,” he stares back at the ceiling. “He’s gonna get himself killed by staying with her.”

“Maybe,” Fallon concedes. “But, maybe not,” she finds herself scooting closer to him. “You can’t determine who a person is just by their family,” she says wisely. “If we did, then we’d all be stuck. Individuality wouldn’t be a thing.” He brings himself to glance back at her as she speaks. “I mean, do you think you’re the same as all your family?”

He hates the fact she’s right. “No,” he answers simply.

“Exactly,” she pokes his side. “Hell, if I was the same as my dad, I wouldn’t be riding my motorcycle. And I love that thing.” She chuckles at her own comparison and Derek just watches as she returns to normal for a split second. Forgetting all that happened to her just a few hours ago. Once she stops laughing, her features soften again. “I am sorry though, Derek,” she tells him quietly. “No one deserves to go through what you have.”

He shrugs, “Nothing I can do about it now.”

“You can talk to someone,” she suggests. By the expression he makes, she can automatically tell that’s never even crossed his mind. “You have talked to someone about this right?”

“No,” he replies. “I’ve never seen a reason to.”

“That explains why you’re so freaking grumpy all the time,” she says. “You’ve seriously never spoken to anyone about it? Like, not even a friend?”

“I don’t have friends.”

A beat of silence washes over them. Fallon frowns at the thought of the man next to her not having anyone to rely on. He’s had to grieve his entire family, alone, for years. She never would have gotten through her moms passing if it wasn’t for her dad, Scott, and Stiles. The two boys might have come a bit after Grace’s passing, but they still helped her through it nonetheless.

She looks at him determinedly, “Well, now you do.”

Derek stares at her as if she has three heads, “What?”

She nods happily, “You said you don’t have friends. So it’s been decided… I’ll be your friend.”

Derek shakes his head, looking away from her. “No. I don’t need friends.”

“You’re getting one anyway,” she insists. “We don’t have to like sit here and tell each other about our day and braid each other’s hair or whatever, but I just want you to know that I’m here,” she explains. “I don’t expect a nightly phone call or anything dumb like that. But at least now you have someone you know you can talk to. Or not talk to, and just sit in brooding silence with,” she grins. “I know that’s more your speed anyway.”

“Why would you want that?” He questions warily. “You already have two idiots as your friends.”

“I can have more than two friends,” Fallon justifies. “And no matter how much you piss me off with your dark and mysterious demeanor, you don’t deserve to go through life alone,” she says seriously. “So it’s settled. We’re friends.”

Derek wants to fight it. He wants to tell her no and that she should be running away from him, not towards him. But there’s something about her. She’s easy to talk to. A little annoying, yes, but not insufferable to be around. He hasn’t even noticed that about an hour has passed since he’s arrived at her home. Having a friend still doesn’t seem like a possibility for someone like him. Everyone he’s ever cared about is gone. He doesn’t want to allow himself to get close to her in order to protect her. But arguing with her seems pointless. Her mind is set.

“Okay,” he nods. “We’re friends.”

Fallon smiles widely, “Good,” she moves up to the head of her bed, dragging him along with her as she grabs all of her Harry Potter books from her nightstand. She looks up at him, “Have you read any of these?”

He glances down at the thick pieces of literature, “No,” he admits. “I was more of a Chronicles of Narnia kind of person.”

“Well, not tonight you’re not,” she places The Philosopher’s Stone in his lap.

The book feels heavy on his legs as he looks at her with amused eyes, “I’m not reading this.”

“Uh, yes, you are,” she insists. “You’re gonna read the first ten pages right now and then you can come back tomorrow and read some more with me,” she tells him. “We can have designated silent reading time. I’ll read mine while you read this one.”

He denies, “No.”

“Yes,” she scoffs.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Please…” she begs him. “Just try it. I promise you’ll like it. And if you don’t, you can force me to read any book of your choosing.”

Derek’s interest piques at the offer, “How do you know I even read?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Reader’s intuition, I guess.”

Derek shakes his head. He narrows his eyes in consideration. “Fine. I’ll tell you what… I’ll read it. The whole thing.” Fallon’s eyes light up. “But if I don’t like it, I don’t have to read the rest of the books, and you still have to read a book of my choosing.”

“Hm… interesting proposal,” she considers it for a moment before sticking her hand out. “Alright, you got yourself a deal.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon silently works on her essay for English, writing it in her best handwriting as it is the final draft. Her and Stiles are currently in Mr. Harris’ chemistry class. The man just sits at his desk, no doubt grading their last assignment. He sends some disappointed and disturbed glares to certain students when he reaches their paper. Fallon wasn’t worried about it. She never struggled in chemistry. Her hand moves effortlessly from left to right. It surprises her that she hasn’t cramped up yet with how far she’s gotten.

The seat beside her was left empty. She assumes that Jackson didn’t come to school today because of last night's events. She didn’t blame him. But earning a lecture from Mr. Harris about slacking off wasn’t something she was in the mood for. He’s never liked her, and she assumes it’s because of her choice in friends. Not that she would ever care what Harris thinks of her. Truthfully, she finds it satisfying when she proves his snide remarks about her wrong by getting high grades in his class. Watching him fume as he writes a one hundred percent on her paper is the best revenge a girl could ask for.

Fallon huffs annoyed when the teacher finally stands. She was hoping he’d remain seated for at least a couple more minutes so she could finish her final paragraph. Reluctantly, she puts her essay back in her English folder before turning her attention back to Mr. Harris.

He claps his hands as he rounds his desk to address all of his students, “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.”

Parent-teacher conferences. The best and worst night of the school year for some kids. It truly is just a judgment ceremony. An opening for teachers to completely expose the kids who don’t put in a lot of effort. Even though they say it’s only for students with a C average, pretty much every child is forced to go because of their parents. Fallon knows she’ll have to be in attendance. Part of it is because her father loves bragging about how intelligent his daughter is, the second part is because he still doesn’t trust her to abide by the enforced curfew. She’s not worried about her grades in the slightest. Her perfectionism and inability to accept failure has forced her to have straight A’s since she was old enough to be graded by the letter system.

Mr. Harris stops by the desk where Stiles is sitting, the spot next to him empty. “Has anyone seen Scott McCall?” On a side note, Fallon’s pretty mad about that. He allowed Scott and Stiles to sit together after forcibly separating all three of them, but wouldn’t let Fallon move any closer.

Stiles shakes his head at the teacher, indicating he has no idea where their best friend is. The boy then returns to his chemistry book, highlighting every other sentence in a bright yellow. Harris glances at Fallon who simply shrugs in his direction.

The door to the classroom swings open and every eye in the classroom falls on Jackson as he saunters in. He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, holding onto his backpack strap as tightly as he can. He rushes to his seat next to Fallon, setting his backpack on the floor. Mr. Harris approaches the blonde gently, “Hey, Jackson– if you need to leave early for any reason, let me know.”

Fallon can’t help but scoff as she scribbles down notes in her chemistry book. Harris didn’t even acknowledge her existence until wondering where Scott was. “Everyone, start reading chapter nine,” he instructs. “Mr. Stilinski,” Stiles looks up at the mention of his name, highlighter dangling from his mouth. “Try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It’s chemistry, not a coloring book.”

She snickers at her friend’s misfortune, but covers it cup with a cough as Stiles glares daggers at her from across the room. She blows a kiss at him before turning her attention back to her chemistry book, which has the appropriate amount of highlighting in it.

“I’m surprised you came,” Jackson comments quietly.

Fallon turns to him confused, “Why?”

“You seemed pretty shaken up,” he points out. “Just didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“Ditto,” she nods in his direction. “After all that complaining about wanting to go home, I assumed you’d stay there for a couple of days.”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, a certain anger behind his eyes. “I can’t miss class. Not with lacrosse and stuff.”

“Yeah, I feel the same way,” Fallon admits. She notices his hands are still clenched rather tightly. Her lips turn into a frown, “Are you doing okay?” She asks quietly. “You seem… tense.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs. “Obviously I’m tense. We got attacked by some weird ass creature at a freaking video store, Fallon,” he says through gritted teeth. “We saw a dead guy. The real question is, why aren’t you more tense?”

“I don’t know…” she mumbles. “I guess I slept it off.”

“Slept it off?” He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “My ass, Donovan. You don’t just sleep something like that off.” He stares directly at her, making her feel like she has to make eye contact with him. “What? Did your doctor dad give you some medical marijuana or something to help you process?”

“Why does everything come down to drugs with you?” She narrows her eyes at him. “Did you ever think that maybe I just talked to someone about it? Like a normal person.”

“Who? McCall?” He asks, clearly digging for more information than just how Fallon coped with last nights ordeal.

“No,” she answers. “And it’s none of your business who I did talk with. All you need to know is that it helps, and maybe you should try it. With your girlfriend perhaps,” she suggests with a sarcastic tone. “Who also happened to be there and could probably use her boyfriend to comfort her.”

“She doesn’t want to talk about it,” Jackson says coldly. “She didn’t even bother coming today. Go figure,” he rolls his eyes bitterly. “She wasn’t even in the damn store and still needed the day off.”

“Everyone processes things differently, Jackson,” Fallon breathes out, not interested in hearing him complain about Lydia, who has been nothing but good to him since they started dating. “She just needs time to recuperate,” she finishes writing down the important information of the chapter, closing the book and putting it in her backpack as the bell rings. “You should probably find a healthy outlet to do the same.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon chases after Stiles once the bell rings, releasing them from Mr. Harris’ classroom. The boy glances at his best friend, a stressed out expression overtaking his face. “Have you seen Scott?” He asks her. “I haven’t seen him and he’s not answering my messages.”

Fallon shakes her head, “No, I haven’t heard from him. I assumed he and Allison took the day off since today’s her birthday,” she reveals thoughtfully. “Lydia asked me to decorate her locker this morning before school.”

“Speaking of, why are you even here?” He questions her. “I don’t know if I’d necessarily be up for tests and homework the day after seeing a dead body.”

“Stiles, you’d be thrilled to go to school after seeing a dead body,” she points out. “In fact, we did go to school after seeing half a dead body.”

“Okay, well, you know what I mean,” he rolls his eyes. “Something crazy happened in that video store and you’re walking around like it’s just another normal morning.”

Fallon goes to respond, but Stiles’ phone ringing prevents her from doing so. “Oh thank God,” he huffs, plugging his headphones into the charging port on his phone, handing Fallon the other earbud before answering Scott’s call.

“What?” Scott asks, tired of the incessant phone calls.

“Finally!” Stiles exclaims. “Have you been getting any of my texts?”

“Yeah, like, all nine million of them…” he says, a bit annoyed.

Fallon shoots Stiles a look, “You really just can’t leave the poor guy alone.”

“We have more important matters to attend to,” Stiles insists. “Do you have any idea what's going on?” He asks Scott. “Lydia is totally MIA, Jackson looks like he's got a time bomb inserted in his face, Fallon for whatever reason is acting totally fine, another random guy's dead, and you have to do something about it!”

“Like what?”

“Something!” Stiles emphasizes.

“Okay,” Scott replies distantly, his mind occupied by other things. “I’ll deal with it later.”

Stiles tries to stop him from hanging up, but it’s too late. Fallon sighs, “You can’t expect him to know how to deal with all of this on his own, Sti,” she says. “We barely even know what to do, so how would he know?”

“He’s that things Beta,” Stiles points out. “And he went after you last night. His priority should be here trying to help us find out why it was there and who it is.”

“Look, I’m with you,” she agrees. “I wanna find out all about the Alpha’s motives, but we can’t force Scott to give up his life just to find the guy. He likes Allison, it is her birthday, just let them have the day to themselves.”

“Okay, I don’t know when you got all freakishly zen, but it’s freaking me out,” Stiles narrows his eyes at her. “Go back to old Fallon.”

“Just because I'm being more rational than you doesn’t mean I’m zen. I’ll still happily punch you in the face.”

Stiles scoffs, “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that violence isn’t the answer?”

“Violence is always the answer,” she pats his back. “That’s why we play lacrosse.”

Stiles can’t help but smile. He shakes his head before turning to her with a more serious matter, “Hey, I was gonna go see Lydia after school today. Y’know, ‘cause she wasn’t here today. I just wanna make sure she’s okay after last night. Do you wanna come?”

Fallon frowns, “I would love to, but I can’t,” she says sadly. “My dad took the night off for parent-teacher conferences. He wants me home right after school so we can ‘spend time together.’ Also known as, ‘keeping me on a leash so I don’t sneak off.’”

“Man, he’s really not letting you off the front porch without him knowing, is he?”

“No,” she laughs irritatedly. “It’s driving me crazy. And after what happened last night, he’s even more on edge. I thought I was in prison before, but forget the curfew. I’m not gonna be allowed out past four at this rate.”

“Luckily, you have me,” he wraps his arm around her. “We’ll find new ways to sneak you out without him knowing.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we will,” she nods. “Just not tonight. I really don’t wanna push my luck.”

Stiles huffs disappointedly, “All right. I won’t force you. I’ll keep you updated on how she’s doing though.”

“Yeah, please do.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon has been home for the past couple hours. She and Stiles have been texting back and forth for the past couple hours, the latter still being stuck on what happened at the video store. She took the alone time to finish off her homework for the week, pick up her room, and get back to reading. She plans on moving on to The Goblet of Fire before she has to leave for parent-teacher conferences. Her attention is diverted when she feels her phone buzz next to her. Stiles’ name pops up on the caller ID and she quickly answers it. Putting it on speaker next to her while she continues reading.

“Fall,” his voice comes through the phone.

“Hey freckles,” she greets. “I thought you were going to Lydia’s?”

“I did,” he huffs, bothered by something. “I left a little bit ago.”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows as she can hear the clear distress in his voice. “Is everything okay? You sound upset.”

He sighs loudly, “I-I don’t know, just– have you heard from Scott at all today? Or maybe Allison?”

“No…” Fallon trails off, her concern growing. “I haven’t heard from him since the call earlier with you. I thought you said he would take care of it. What’s going on?”

“Well–” he tries to say but is cut off by Noah walking into his room. “Hold on, Fall.”

The brunette could hear the entire conversation, chuckling as she remembers a very similar one happening at the Hale house crime scene. She’s envious of Stiles though. He gets to stay home from the conferences this evening.

“Hey, I’m back. You still there?” He asks.

“Yeah,” she nods, getting into a more comfortable position on her bed. “Wanna tell me what’s got you so anxious?”

“Better yet, I’ll show you.” There’s a moment of silence before her phone buzzes again with a text message. “Look at what I sent.”

She goes into her messaging app, opening her text chain with Stiles. She presses the attachment and her eyes widen at the video, “Is that…?” The image of the dead guy flashes through her mind as she watches the Alpha fly through the front store of the window. “Stiles, where the hell did you get this?”

“Lydia’s phone,” he replies. “She had it recording when all of that went down. She kept saying it was a mountain lion.”

“That doesn’t look anything like a mountain lion,” Fallon mumbles, rewatching the video again. “There’s no way we’d be able to explain that.”

“Yeah, I know. That’s why I’ve been trying to get ahold of Scott for the last couple hours, but nothing. I don’t know what to do with this,” she can hear him running a frustrated hand over his face.

“I’m sorry Stiles,” she exhales. “I haven’t heard from him at all.”

“It’s fine,” he grumbles. “Not your fault he’s not answering.”

“Why don’t you just delete it?” Fallon suggests. “That way Lydia won’t have that reminder waiting for her when she opens her camera roll, and we don’t have to explain what we know when she ends up showing it to the police.”

“You think I should?”

“I think that would be the smartest move,” she admits. “Plus, if Scott’s not answering, I think we’re pretty accustomed to making the decision on our own.”

“I just feel like he should at least know about it,” Stiles says nervously.

“You left him a message right?” She asks.

“Not in so many words… I kinda just told him I’d kill him.”

Fallon snorts, “Well, then that shows the severity of the situation. We can always inform him of the full details later,” she smiles into the phone. “Just do what you think is right, Stiles. You have good judgment. You always do. I trust your gut more than anything.”

“Really?” He wonders hopefully.

“Yeah,” she confirms gently.

He nods, “Alright, thanks Fall. I’ll talk to you later, alright? Let me know how the conference goes.”

“I will. Bye Sti.”

She hangs up the phone before picking up her book and finishing the last two pages. She reaches over to her nightstand, grabbing the fourth book of the series and opening the first page. She reads for about thirty minutes until a few loud thuds are heard on her roof. She furrows her eyebrows, looking upwards. It’s silent again for a moment so she shakes her head, assuming it was nothing. At least until a bigger crash got her attention.

Up on the roof was none other than Derek Hale. The man is shirtless and out of breath as he clambers down to her window. Kate and a few other hunters had broken into his home, trying to get him to tell them who the Alpha was. If he truly knew, he wouldn’t be relying on Scott to help track him. Once they found out just how clueless he was, they tried to kill him, so he ran. At the time he wasn’t exactly sure where he’d run, not like he had many options to choose from in the first place.

He did have one option, hence why he’s here now. He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but he felt as if he didn’t have a choice. It was either this or fend for himself in the woods.

As he lowers himself to the window, he’s met with the concerned eyes of Fallon Donovan. Once she sees who it is, she’s quick to open up the window, allowing him entrance into her room. She’s shocked to see him shirtless, but recovers in enough time to shut the window and close her curtains. By his hurried state, she assumes that someone may be after him.

“Derek?” She asks, trying to catch her breath from the speedy ordeal. “What happened? What are you doing here?” She walks up to him, seeing a small bruise on his side slowly fading as he pants.

“Hunters…” he manages to get out. Fallon walks over to her mini fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for the werewolf. She opens it, handing it to him. He accepts it gratefully, taking a large swig of it before continuing. “They showed up to my house. Wanted to know about the Alpha,” he explains. “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“Oh my God,” she says shocked. “Are you okay– Actually, don’t answer that. Obviously you’re not okay. Sorry, that was a dumb question,” she shakes her head at her own idiocy. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” She turns around and walks into her closet, searching for one of the big shirts she’s taken from her dad to sleep in. She finds a faded blue Superman t-shirt and deems that good enough. She walks back out to him, the man seemingly analyzing her room more in depth. “Here.”

“Thanks,” he nods, slipping the shirt over his head. It’s a tight fit, but she noticed that most of his shirts aren’t exactly loose on his chiseled form.

“Do you need anything else?” She asks him. “More water? Food? A Xanax?” She smiles slightly.

Derek sends her a pointed look but shakes his head, “No, I’m fine.”

“Well, I have some small snacks and water bottles in the fridge if you ever change your mind,” she tells him. “Also, if you need to shower or use the restroom, it’s right through that door,” she points to the one right next to her closet.

“I don’t think I’ll be here for that long.”

She turns to him, a worried expression taking over her face. “Derek, I don’t think you should go back out there anytime soon. Just stay here.”

“That’s not a good idea,” he denies. “I don’t think your dad would take too kindly to finding me in your room.”

She waves him off, “He never comes in here. Plus, we’re going to the parent-teacher conferences in like ten minutes. So you’ll have the entire house to yourself.” She walks closer to him, “I’d rather you stay here until we know it’s safe. They obviously know where you live, so it would be better for you to stay here anyway.”

“Fallon!” Michael calls out from the hallway. Derek tenses and gets ready to head for the window, but the smaller brunette grips his arm. He stares down at her hand, then back up to her. He sends a menacing glare her way, but she doesn’t even acknowledge it. She simply keeps her hand encased around his wrist. She’s cold against his warm skin. It’s almost a shock to his system with how large their temperature difference is.

“Yeah, dad?” She responds.

“We gotta go kiddo! I’ll be in the car.”

“Okay!” She says, waiting till she’s sure he’s fully down the stairs before talking to Derek again. Her eyes meet his and she still hasn’t bothered removing her hand from his arm. “Like I said, there’s water and stuff in here. If you get hungry, we should have leftover lasagna in the fridge from yesterday. If you’re not feeling that, feel free to order takeout. There’s some cash in my sock drawer on the side of my bed.”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t argue with me,” she cuts him off sharply. “You’re staying here until I get back and then we can discuss whether or not it’s safe for you to leave. Order yourself something and relax. If you wanna watch something, the password to my computer is 8-1-2-0-4. And before you ask, yes that’s the day I met Scott and Stiles.”

Derek sits there silently and lets her ramble. He quirks an eyebrow, “You done?”

“Yes,” she breathes out. “I’m done.”

She waits for a moment, the two of them only staring at each other. Derek takes a step which puts her on edge, ready to stop him from escaping. But to her surprise, he takes a seat on her bed, grabbing the book she gave him the night before. He holds it up to her, “I’ll make myself busy.”

A small smile etches onto her face, “Okay,” she nods. “I’ll be back in a few hours. And if I come back and you’re not here, I swear to God, I don’t need werewolf senses to hunt your ass down and beat you up,” she threatens.

“Yeah, I’m sure you will.”

She rolls her eyes at his mocking tone, “Whatever. Just– stay here, okay?”

He slowly kicks off his shoes, maintaining eye contact. “Does it look like I’m going anywhere?”

“Okay smartass,” she grumbles. “I’ll be back.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Arriving at the school, Fallon is already wishing the night was over. She crosses her fingers, hoping this all goes by quickly so she can get home before Derek decides to take off. She and her father walk side by side into the school, walking by all of her classes. They get through her first three periods without an issue. Her English teacher adores her, her creative writing teacher thinks she could have a future in literature, and her AP Algebra teacher believes she should be placed into Calculus next year rather than Pre-Calculus so she can have her math credits out of the way sooner.

Michael is proud. He grins down at his daughter, patting her back after every compliment. They all talk about how dedicated she is, how it amazes them she balances so many extracurriculars on top of having one of the highest GPAs in the school. She honestly doesn’t even know how she does it. Especially with the recent events going on in her life. The ratio of coffee intake to sleep at this point is about ten to one.

Fallon winces when she realizes the next teacher they have to go see is Mr. Harris. She glances up at her father, “I just want you to know before we go in there to take everything he says with a grain of salt,” she advises. “He’s a miserable, grouchy, angry man who takes pleasure in ruining teenagers' lives… He also hates me, Scott, and Stiles, so.”

Michael raises an amused eyebrow, “Duly noted.”

The moment they walk into the classroom, Mr. Harris stands from his spot and the semi-pleasant expression he was wearing fades slightly at the sight of the brunette girl. He covers it quickly with a fake smile as he walks directly to Michael, “Mr. Donovan, it’s a pleasure to officially meet you.”

Fallon rolls her eyes, something her father takes notice of. He holds back his own chuckle as he shakes the man’s hand, “Nice to meet you as well, Mr. Harris. I’ve heard absolutely wonderful things about you.”

Fallon fights the urge to stare at her father, mouth agape. Michael just smirks as he watches his daughter shift uncomfortably. “Really?” The teacher asks surprised, looking in between the father-daughter duo. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. Please, take a seat.” He gestures to the chairs in front of his desk.

The two of them take their respective spots as Mr. Harris opens a personal file on the girl in front of him. He reads over it for a moment before looking up. “First off, I just want to start by saying how great of a student Fallon is. Her assignment’s are always done with the utmost precision and turned in on time, if not a few days early. She’s very dedicated to her studies as well as being a star athlete on our lacrosse team as I’m sure you know.” Michael nods along, having heard this same spiel less than fifteen minutes ago. “Not to mention, she’s very involved in the arts. She’s an active participant in the theatre program through her drama class as well as our creative writing program. She will have no issues getting into the college of her choosing with these accolades behind her.”

Fallon is slightly surprised by the amount of praise she’s getting from the man. That is until he closes the file and folds his hands together like that was just the opening act to an even bigger production. She can tell by the disgusted quiver in his lip exactly where this is going to go.

“However, I am slightly worried about her social development as she seems to surround herself with individuals who don’t quite match her potential.”

Michael feigns surprise, “Really? How so?”

“I assume you know about her friendship with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall, correct?” He asks.

“I do.”

“Well, I feel as though the two boys are holding her back,” Harris states bluntly. “They distract her. I’ve already had to separate them once this semester and they still seem to find ways to interact and disrupt my class.” There’s a hint of unprofessionalism in his voice, his own vendetta against Stiles and Scott showing. “I would just hate to see someone as bright as Fallon throw her future away on something as trivial as a high school friendship.”

If steam could be leaving her ears, it would be. Fallon is fuming, absolutely livid. She’s been friends with Scott and Stiles since moving to Beacon Hills. Their friendship is not trivial or confined to the simplicities of high school. What they have goes beyond all of that.

“Mr. Harris,” Michael leans forward, crossing his right leg over the left. “I appreciate your input on the people my daughter surrounds herself with, I do. But I assure you, Stiles and Scott are not an issue in my daughter's life. From what I’ve seen, they’ve helped her adjust and grow into the woman sitting here today, and I will not tolerate any slander against those two boys. You may not like their behavior, but you must remember that you chose to teach high school students as your career. If you did not expect to have rambunctious teenage boys in your class, then I am afraid you chose the wrong profession.” Fallon’s jaw drops as her father eloquently puts Harris in his place. “I do hope you find a better way of addressing their behavioral issues with their parents rather than implying they’re bad people.” Michael stands from his spot, “Thank you for your time… Fallon,” he nods towards the door, indicating it’s time for them to leave.

The two of them walk out, not giving Mr. Harris a chance to utter another word. Fallon waits till there far enough down the hallway before jumping up and down and smacking her father’s arm. “That was amazing!” She squeals. “Agh, I can’t wait to tell Scott and Stiles. Harris is gonna be pissed when we go back to class.”

“Language,” Michael laughs.

“I can’t help it!” She swings her arms happily. “I feel like I’m floating after that. I mean, did you see how red his face got? Priceless.”

Michael shakes his head, simply wrapping his arm around Fallon’s shoulder as they continue visiting the rest of her teachers. Michael’s and Fallon’s favorite conference had to be with Coach Finstock. They might have gotten five minutes in about Fallon’s grades before turning solely to lacrosse. They couldn’t stop snickering at the man’s enthusiasm. He might’ve let a couple of insults about Stiles slip, but it was all in good nature… they hope.

Finally, the evening was over. Michael and Fallon walk towards the exit doors, pushing them open as they get ready to head to their car. “I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he pats her back.

She smiles up at him, “Thanks dad.”

That’s when the Donovan’s notice Melissa McCall walking up to them. They both smile in her direction, Michael pulling the woman in for a hug as a greeting. Fallon notices the worried look on her face. She seems to be in a rush, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

“Hey guys!” She greets as cheerfully as possible before turning her attention to the young brunette. “Fallon, have you seen Scott at all? Mr. Harris told me that he didn’t show up to school today.”

Fallon shakes her head, “No, I haven’t seen him. I think he might’ve went out with Allison since today’s her birthday,” she says honestly.

Melissa frowns, “Allison? The girl he went to that party with?”

“Yeah,” Fallon nods. “I think they’re dating so he wanted to do something special for her.” Her eyes catch Victoria Argent’s bright red hair, both her and Chris gave the exact same expression as Melissa. Clearly, they haven’t heard from Allison at all either. “Those are her parents,” she points in that direction. “I can take you over there if you want.”

“That would be great,” Melissa nods. “Thank you sweetheart.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you handle this Fall,” Michael kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be in the car all right?”

“Okay,” she agrees before looping her arm through Melissa’s and escorting her over to the Argent’s.

“Excuse me,” Fallon begins politely. Chris and Victoria turn, their expressions softening when they see who it is. “Hi Mr. and Mrs. Argent, um, this is Melissa McCall, Scott’s mom. I figured since both Allison and Scott weren’t at school today, and they’re not answering their phones, that you might have some things to talk about.”

Victoria’s face hardens once more as she looks at Melissa with distaste, “You’re his mother?”

Melissa scoffs slightly, “Funny how you say that like it’s an accusation…” she comments defensively.

The sudden shift in atmosphere makes Fallon feel awkward for being there in the first place. Chris tilts his head, “Well, I wouldn't claim it as a source of pride, since he basically kidnapped my daughter today.”

“Kidnap isn’t exactly the word I’d use–” Fallon tries to diffuse the situation.

“How do we know that skipping school wasn’t your daughter’s idea?” Melissa crosses her arms.

“My daughter–” Chris tries to talk but that’s when Fallon sees a sheepish looking Allison and Scott approaching them, both of them already knowing how much trouble they are in.

“Is right there,” Fallon finishes, nodding in the direction of the two teens.

Melissa wastes no time in storming over to her son. Victoria and Chris share an angry yet disappointed look before also approaching their daughter. Fallon simply shoves her hands into her pockets, and when she notices Scott looking at her, she makes a bomb explosion with her hands accompanied by her own sound effects. He rolls his eyes at her childish behavior and she smirks before walking over to the parking lot. She looks at her watch, seeing as it’s only eight-thirty she hopes Derek hasn’t taken off yet.

Right as her sneaker clad foot hits the black asphalt of the lot, a blood curdling scream erupts from one of the women leaving the school. Fallon’s head snaps towards the direction of the sound, her body suddenly becoming hyper aware of her surroundings. Indistinct yelling is heard from the crowd as people push through each other trying to get to their cars. She spins on her heel, trying to discover the cause of all the commotion when another couple of girls begin screaming and running in the opposite direction of where they were standing.

Fear. That’s all Fallon could see. Everyone seems to be running for their lives from something the brunette doesn’t even know about. She jumps slightly when a small thud catches her attention. Something just hit the car next to her. Her heartbeat quickens as she scrambles to get away from the vehicle. She tries to look for her dad and their car, but can’t see anything over the panicked people.

“Fallon!” Allison screams, running over to the girl. She grips onto her arm, “Have you seen Scott?” She asks worriedly. “I-I lost him when the first girl screamed. I don’t know where he is.”

Fallon shakes her head, trying to pull Allison away from the car she was just standing next to. The sound of nails scratching against pavement causes the hairs on her neck to stand up. The only thing she can think of is the Alpha. “I don’t know where he is,” she answers. “I thought he was with Melissa.”

“No, we stayed together when everyone started running out of the school,” Allison explains, her nails digging into Fallon’s skin.

“It’s okay,” she reassures the girl. “We’ll find him.”

A small yelp leaves their mouths as one of the cars they were weaving through shakes due to something colliding with it. Fallon immediately starts dragging Allison out of the parking lot and back towards the school. They move backwards, trying to cross the main driving lane to exit the school when suddenly a flashing light blinds the two.

“Allison!”

Suddenly Allison was gone from Fallon’s side. She panics, trying to find the girl but it’s too late. The brunette’s body is launched about five feet from where she stood as a car hits her roughly. She crashes to the ground, her head hitting the gravel with a loud bang. Her vision blurs, a deafening ringing all she’s able to hear. All she can see is blobs of people running over top of her trying to escape.

She lays still on the ground, not a sound coming from her. Someone would probably think she was dead. At least until a throbbing pain shoots up her leg and into her side. She groans loudly, trying to keep the tears at bay as her hearing and vision finally come back into focus. Something is definitely wrong. Scott and Allison appear, both of them standing over her with worry filling their eyes.

Allison is quick to put pressure on certain points and judging by the pained scream she could easily identify the problem. “It’s broken,” she whispers to Scott. “Help me get her up.”

Fallon bites her tongue so hard that she draws blood as her two friends try to drag her over to the pavement. Scott mutters multiple different apologies to his best friend, guilt filling his body at the sight of Fallon in pain. He just saw the car coming and his mind immediately went to saving Allison.

They set her down gently the same time a gun goes off. They all look in the direction of the shooter, seeing Chris Argent standing tall with a determined look on his face. Everyone halts their movements after the shots rang out, walking over to see what exactly was terrorizing the crowd.

Fallon couldn’t see much as her mind was too preoccupied with the pain in her leg. But what she did catch a glimpse of, laying dead with a bullet wound, was a mountain lion. A real, actual mountain lion. Not the Alpha she thought it was.

“Michael!” Scott yells as Fallon’s father comes barreling forward, eyes blown wide.

“What the hell happened?” He asks, kneeling down to his daughter.

“A car hit her,” Allison answers. “I’m pretty sure her leg is broken.”

That’s when Melissa comes rushing over as well as a limping Noah Stilinski. Michael looks up at the sheriff, “We need an ambulance here, now.”

So much for making it back before Derek left.

---

Heart Monitor 1x06

Episode 7

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What did Derek say?”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

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

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

“Yeah…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scott furrows his brows, “To do what?”

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

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” Fallon takes a spoonful of yogurt.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, you be my Yoda.”

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

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

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

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

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stiles–”

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

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

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

“I know,” she smiles appreciatively.

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

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

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

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. “I borrowed it.”

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

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

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

Stiles nods slowly, “That… I stole.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Like the Incredible Hulk?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“AHHH! Son of a bitch!”

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

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

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

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

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

157. 158. 159. 160.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He said she makes him weak. She reminds him.

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

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

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

Ditto.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Scott looks even more confused, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I-I… uh–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You mean because I love her?”

“Exactly,” Stiles nods.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah…” Stiles smirks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This was your brilliant idea?” She snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He did it.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Detention.

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

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

“That's really good,” he compliments.

She smiles, “You think so?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep,” Stiles nods. “We both did.”

“So you did that to help me learn?”

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

“…But partially to punish me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She turns, “Yes sir?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

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

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

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

“Yeah, I know,” Scott admits.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Derek looks at her incredulously, “Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

Night School 1x07

“Lock it! Lock it!” Scott screams as he holds the left door shut for dear life. Fallon sits in between the two boys as panic sets in for all three of them.

“Does it look like I have a key?!” Stiles snaps.

“We’re gonna die,” Fallon mumbles, still staring off into the distance.

Stiles leans down, grabbing her hand, “Hey, look at me.” He forces her to meet his gaze by gently lifting her chin with his finger. “We’re not gonna die… At least not right now.”

“We will if you don’t grab something!” Scott screams at Stiles.

“What?” He looks around the area, trying to find something to lock the door with.

Scott waves his hands wildly, “Anything!”

Stiles huffs, completely overstimulated. He stands up and looks outside the window in the door and notices the bolt cutters they left outside. His eyes light up and Fallon can automatically tell what he’s thinking. She shakes her head, “Stiles… no.”

He looks down at her, “Yes!” He opens the door and shimmies his way out.

Scott scrambles to try and grab him, “No! Stiles, don’t–”

The door shuts, leaving Scott and Fallon inside as Stiles tries to sneakily grab the tool. The brunette girl struggles to get onto her good leg, barely peeking over the bottom of the window. She watches nervously as her friend analyzes the area, making sure the Alpha isn’t coming from another direction.

“Come on, Stiles…” she whispers nervously.

Stiles bends down, grabbing the bolt cutters and that’s when Fallon sees it. The Alpha crawls out from behind Stiles’ jeep, sights set on the spastic boy who still hasn’t noticed his presence. Fallon and Scott both start pounding heavily on the door, trying to get his attention. He turns to look at them, confused by the sudden commotion coming from them. That is until he follows their line of vision and sees the large creature bounding straight for him.

“Stiles, run!” Fallon screams.

He stays stunned for a moment until he realizes that his life is in imminent danger. He scrambles to his feet, tripping over himself slightly as he jumps back into the school, slamming the door shut behind him and sticking the bolt cutters in between the handles to hold it shut.

All three of them pant heavily before slowly moving to check outside again. Nothing. He’s gone. Their nerves spike again as they realize a gigantic werewolf has managed to disappear from view. “Where is it?” Scott asks breathily. “Where did it go?”

Stiles lifts his large LED lantern, flashing it through the window and partially blinding himself because of the reflection. They all continue looking for a moment, glancing in every direction but not seemingly able to find him. Her face is pale. She hates feeling terrified like this because she knows that the Alpha can sense it. He sensed it the night in the video store, and he sure as hell can sense it now.

“That won’t hold, will it?” Scott asks skeptically as he looks at their makeshift lock.

“Probably not,” Fallon replies grimly.

A loud howl causes them to jump out of their skin. Scott is quick to grab Fallon, putting her on his back as they run through the school. She clings onto him tightly, this ride being more bumpy than when she goes through the woods on her motorcycle. Stiles crashes into a classroom, Scott following closely behind with the previous cargo. He sets her down on a nearby chair, her crutches having been abandoned by the front doors to the school. Stiles grabs one side of the teacher’s desk, Scott grabbing the other as they go to move it towards the door.

“Shh! Stop, stop,” Stiles commands as the desk screeches loudly across the tile. He glances back at the door with a defeated sigh, “The door’s not gonna keep it out.”

“I know,” Scott huffs, removing his hands from the desk.

Stiles shakes his head, looking at Scott, “It’s your boss.”

“What?”

“Deaton? The Alpha? Your boss.” Stiles repeats, trying to make him realize the reality of their situation.

“No,” Scott denies.

“I mean, maybe,” Fallon mutters. Scott turns to her with narrowed eyes and she shrugs, “Come on, Scott. He was tied up in the back of the Camaro, then suddenly disappears? Only for the Alpha to show up ten seconds later and toss Derek across the freaking parking lot. Seems to add up, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not him,” he says determinedly.

“He killed Derek, Scott,” she reminds him, her heart beating faster as she replays the image of Derek’s body hitting the brick wall of the school. It’s also rather hard to forget as her once clean shirt is now covered in his blood.

“No,” Scott shakes his head. “Derek’s not dead. He can’t be dead.”

“Blood spurted out of his mouth, dude!” She exclaims. “I’m literally covered in it. The Alpha’s claws literally stabbed him through the back. He was thrown into a brick wall,” she lists off with a scoff. “And you think he’s not dead? He’s gone, Scott. And if the Alpha can take out a werewolf like Derek that easily, what do you think he’s gonna do to us, hm?”

Scott knows she’s right, “Okay just–” he sighs, “What do we do?”

“We get to my Jeep. We get out of here. And you seriously think about quitting your job,” Stiles rattles off his plan. “Good?” He doesn’t wait for a response before traveling over to the windows. Scott follows him while Fallon hops her way over. She pauses behind them as Scott tries to fiddle with the latch, the window not budging.

Stiles grabs his arm, “No, they don’t open. The school’s climate-controlled.”

“So break it,” Fallon says exasperatedly.

“Which would make a lot of noise,” Stiles counters logically.

“It doesn’t matter how much noise we make!” She exclaims. “He can hear our heartbeats and us talking right now anyway! He also has Scott and my scent,” she argues. “I don’t think smashing a window is going to make our situation any worse.”

Stiles goes to continue arguing but Scott stops him, “Stiles, what’s wrong with the hood of your jeep?” He questions, looking out the window with wide eyes.

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, “What do you mean?” He asks defensively, going to look out the window himself. “Nothing’s wrong…”

“It’s bent,” Fallon breathes out, tilting her head as she gazes out the window as well.

“What, like, dented?”

“No, Stiles, I mean bent,” Fallon insists. “Like half of it sticking in the air bent.”

The boy gasps when he sees what they’re talking about, “What the hell…?”

Their curiosity is cut off by the window above them shattering. They all scream, ducking down on the floor to take some sort of cover as a large object flies overhead and lands only a few feet in front of them. From the looks of it, none of them were hit by any falling glass, but the night is still young.

Fallon’s jaw hits the floor, pointing forward, “…That’s your battery,” she says to the boy next to her.

A small whimper leaves Stiles’ mouth as he thinks of how expensive replacing that part is going to be. He stares at it upsetly for another few seconds before shuffling forward to leave. Scott grabs him with a pointed look, “Don’t.”

“We have to move,” Stiles insists.

“He could be right outside!”

Fallon looks at Scott like he’s dumb, “He is right outside! And I don’t know about you, but I’m not gonna sit here and wait for him to come and eat me.”

Scott sits up slightly, sighing, “Just let me take a look.”

They wait as he scans over the parking lot once more, the Alpha absent from sight. Stiles glances up, “Nothing?” He wonders.

“No,” Scott shakes his head with a trembling breath.

“Move now?” Fallon requests, already using the desk next to her to get on her feet.

Scott nods, “Move now.”

Him and Stiles sling both of Fallon’s arms over their shoulders as they walk out into the hallway. They look down both ways, checking to see that the pathway is empty. “This way…” Scott starts pulling them.

Fallon’s body moves with Scott until she’s jerked back by Stiles. She grunts, sending the boy a small glare. He mumbles out an apology before explaining his abrupt motion, “No, no, no, no… Somewhere without windows.”

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, “Every single classroom in this building has windows,” she points out.

Stiles rolls his neck, tired of her arguing with him, “Or somewhere with less windows,” he corrects.

They all pause in thought, trying to think of somewhere in the school. Fallon takes another glance down the hall, taking another deep breath when there’s no sign of the Alpha. Scott’s eyes light up with an idea, “The locker room.”

Stiles nods rapidly, getting ready to move Fallon again. “Yeah.”

She winces, looking between the two, “Is it gonna smell in there? Because if it is, we should go to the girls.”

“Seriously?” Stiles looks at her as they run down the hallway. “Were being chased by Scott’s psycho, murderer boss and you’re worried about the locker room stinking?”

Fallon rolls her eyes, fighting off the urge to kick him because he’s right. “Just keep running.”

They manage to run down the hallway without making much noise to their surprise. Well, not much noise in their opinion. Some shoes were scuffled as well as a certain cuss word leaving Stiles’ mouth as he managed to almost drop Fallon on the way there.

Once they walk in, they set Fallon down on the bench and she looks around with an impressed nod. “Not bad,” she comments. “I only smell a faint stench of sweaty socks.”

The boys ignore her. Scott turns to Stiles, panting from running. “Call your dad,” he instructs.

Stiles scoffs, “And tell him what?”

“I don’t know!” Scott says urgently. “Anything! Gas leak. A fire. Whatever! If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it’ll take off.”

“What if it doesn’t?” Stiles challenges, considering the opposite scenario. “What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight, including my dad?”

“They have guns!” Scott exclaims.

Fallon leans forward, sending Scott a pointed look, “Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with some rare form of Wolfsbane to even be slightly slowed down, remember that? What do you think the Sheriff department’s peewee guns are gonna be able to do?”

Scott starts to get frantic, clawing for any escape plan from his brain. “Then we-we have to-we have to find a way out and just run for it.”

“There’s nothing near the school for at least a mile,” Stiles points out. “And we can’t keep lugging Fallon around everywhere. No offense,” he nods at her.

“None taken.”

“When does that thing get taken off anyway?” He questions, getting tired of the big bulky cast.

“I’m hoping by the end of next week,” she says, just as irritated with it as he is. “My dad said my X-rays looked good at my appointment yesterday so, fingers crossed.” She gets up from her spot, tired of being the one sitting. “Why don’t we just wait for the Alpha to come into the school?” She suggests. “Then we can just book it back to the other classroom and sneak out of the broken window.”

“Are you dumb?” Stiles narrows his eyes at her. “He already knows we were in there. Why would we go back? Haven’t you watched any sort of horror movie?”

“Yeah,” Fallon scoffs. “And everyone always dies after trying to find some elaborate way to escape. We have an easy opening in that classroom, we should take it.”

“Guys!” Scott interrupts them. “Why don’t we just take Derek’s car?”

“How the hell are we gonna get out to the car genius?” Fallon quirks a brow.

“That could work…” Stiles brushes over her comment. “We go outside, we get the keys… off his body… and then we take his car.”

“And him,” Fallon adds. “I’m not exactly down to just leave his body here.”

Stiles rolls his eyes like that’s a big ask, “Fine. Whatever.”

They all walk towards the door, Fallon more so hobbling. Stiles reaches forward to grab the door handle, but just as he’s about to open it, Scott reaches forward and stops him. His hand wraps around Stiles’ wrist. Fallon and Stiles look at him wildly, wondering what caused the sudden action.

“What?” Stiles lifts his eyebrows.

“I think I heard something,” Scott whispers.

“Wait, what?” Fallon whips her head to him in concern.

Scott slaps a hand over her mouth, “Shh, quiet.” He must hear something else as he slowly starts backing away from the door. He keeps Fallon behind him, turning Stiles’s flashlight around so it doesn’t give away their location. “Hide.”

Stiles acts fast, loudly opening one of the locker doors next to him and shoving himself inside. Scott winces at how much noise it made, but nonetheless grabs Fallon and brings her over to the lockers across from where Stiles is. He shoves her in one, shutting it gently before enclosing himself in the one next to her. The brunette girl covers her own mouth with her arm, trying to minimize the amount of sound her breathing makes as she hears footsteps approaching the locker room door.

The door opens slowly, the creaking sound it makes only increasing the tension that was already there. Fallon pushes herself as far back into the locker as she can, not wanting the Alpha to see her through the small slits in the locker.

Suddenly, the door to Scott’s locker swings open making Fallon’s fight or flight kick in. Despite her leg, she jumps out of her own locker, tackling whoever it is to the ground. “Go, run!” She shouts until she registers who exactly she just body slammed. It's the janitor. Her eyes widen as guilt and embarrassment flood her system. She pulls herself off the man, struggling to get to her feet, “I am so sorry, I–”

“Son of a bitch!” The man yells, rubbing the back of his head where he hit the ground.

“Quiet!” Stiles snaps, not wanting their location to be revealed.

“Quiet my ass!” The man scoffs. “What the hell are you trying to do, kill me?”

“Sir, I really am so sorry–” Fallon tries to get out.

“All three of you, get out! Now!” He points towards the door, his tone leaving no room for an argument.

“Will you just listen for half a second, okay–” Stiles starts in an attempt to calm the man down.

“Not okay,” the Janitor cuts him off, not interested in any excuse or story they have to offer. “Get the hell out of here right now.” The man grabs Scott and Stiles by their necks, glaring at Fallon harshly to get her to follow. She hops on her good leg, using the wall for support as they are all three tossed out of the locker room.

Stiles tries again, catching his balance before falling, “God, just one second to explain–”

“Just shut up and go!”

A loud scream leaves the janitor’s mouth as the door is slammed shut. The three of them watch in horror as he’s pinned against the wall, blood spurting out of him and onto the glass window of the door. The janitor pounds on the window, begging for them to save him from the monster attacking him. Scott moves to open the door, Fallon following closely behind until Stiles yanks them backwards.

“No, no, no,” he pushes them in the opposite direction. “Go! Go!” He scoffs over at Fallon who’s about to jump on Scott’s back, “What were you gonna do? Kick him to death with your cast?”

“You know what sounds like a fantastic idea? Me doing that to you.”

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon dismounts off of Scott’s back, practically tossing herself at the side doors to the school. She uses all of her body weight to get herself out, but bounces back slightly when the doors don’t give way like she was expecting. The boys grunt loudly as they try to push along with her, but nothing works.

There’s enough of a crack for Scott to push his head through. He sighs when he notices exactly what’s blocking them in, “It’s a dumpster.”

“You’re telling me that this killer werewolf took the time to lock us in here with a freaking dumpster?” Fallon stares at the door with a slack jaw.

Stiles stares ahead, baffled. “Yeah. He pushed it in front of the door to block us in,” he scoffs unbelievably. A surge of anger courses through the boy as he charges towards the door, once again trying to move the blockade, “Come on! Help me!”

Fallon grabs his arm, “Stiles!” She calls out. “It’s no use. We gotta find another way,” she mumbles.

He reluctantly allows her to pull him away from the doors as they start walking back down the hallway in search for another escape route. Stiles shakes his head rapidly, “I’m not dying here. I’m not dying at school,” he says anxiously.

“We’re not gonna die,” Scott reassures as they round a corner.

“What is he even doing?” Fallon asks out loud, trying to figure it out herself as well. “What does he want?” He didn’t attack her at the video store. He hasn’t tried to kill any of them. He hasn’t even really been violent with Scott. Just chasing him. Like a game of cat and mouse.

“Me.” Scott sighs frustratedly. “Derek says it’s stronger with a pack.”

“Oh great!” Stiles comments sarcastically. “A psychotic werewolf who’s into teamwork. That’s-that’s beautiful.”

Scott slaps a hand across both Fallon and Stiles’ chest. They both look at him, confused as to why he just soccer-mom’d the both of them. However, his eyes are stuck out the large window they are now standing in front of. Stiles and Fallon follow his line of vision, both of them turning a pale white as they see the Alpha on the roof across from them.

“Holy fu–” Fallon goes to scream, but is cut off by Scott swooping her up bridal style.

They bolt in the other direction, hearing the smashing of glass as the Alpha begins chasing after them. She grips onto Scott’s neck tightly as they open the door that leads to the staircase. Little grunts leave Scott’s mouth as he tries not to drop her while also maintaining his pace. She silently hopes he doesn’t drop her. She doesn’t want another cast for at least the next four years.

“Over there!” She whisper yells, pointing towards a random hallway. “There‘a a bunch of old beaten up lockers around that corner. We can hide behind those.”

The boys do as they’re told, rounding the corner and speeding towards the lockers she was talking about. They stop, pressing their backs against the cool metal which heavily contrasts their sweating bodies. Each of them holds their breath as to not give away their location. Fallon can hear the low snarling coming from the Alpha who’s only a mere few feet away. Scott barely looks around the corner, letting out a relieved sigh as the creature goes the other way.

“Go,” Scott mouths quietly.

“What?” Stiles tilts his head.

Fallon pushes him forward, “He said go,” she mumbles.

The three of them run forward for a moment, finding an area they deem far enough from where they just spotted the Alpha. They all stare at the entrance, anxiously waiting to see if they’ve been followed.

“Okay, we need to do something,” Fallon insists, backing towards another wall to ease some pressure off of her leg.

“Like what?” Scott asks exasperatedly.

“I don’t know!” She scoffs. “Kill it, maybe?! I am not above seriously debilitating that thing. Hell, we could sit here and mentally assault it for all I care!”

Stiles and Scott inch towards the door on the other side of the room. Fallon stays pushed against the wall, feeling slightly guilty that they’ve had to carry her around the entire night. She freezes in her spot as a distant growling fills her ears. The pipes in the school squeak eerily the longer they sit in silence.

Stiles reaches in his pockets, pulling out a pair of keys that begin to make a rather loud jangling noise. Fallon wishes she could smack him, but Scott seems to have that covered. “Wait a minute, no–”

“Shh,” Stiles hushes him. He finishes pulling them out, shaking them while doing so to create more noise. The growling grows closer and Fallon gets prepared to book it on her own. Out of nowhere, Stiles tosses the keys out of the door into the spare room. The room shakes violently as the Alpha comes barreling towards their location. Stiles slams the door in the things face before jolting backwards.

“What did you just do?!” Fallon screams.

“The desk!” Stiles yells at Scott to help him. “Come on, the desk!”

Scott surges forward, helping Stiles move the large table. They manage to scoot it in front of the door, locking the Alpha out, and also trapping him in the other room. They used the same “dumpster” tactic he used. Fallon exhales, putting her hands on her knees to calm herself down.

She jumps over to Stiles wrapping her arms around him, “God, I love that stupid brain of yours,” she says, relieved.

That relief only lasts a few seconds as the door jolts forward roughly. They all jump at the sound of metal clanging as the Alpha continues to try and break through. The desk separates Stiles and Fallon from Scott as it’s pushed against the door long ways. Stiles gestures for Scott to come to their side, “Come on, get across… Come on!”

Scott jumps over the metal table, standing with his friends on the other side as they look through the small window to where they’ve trapped the Alpha. Stiles cranes his neck in different directions to try and spot it.

“What are you doing?” Scott asks him incredulously.

“I just wanna get a good look at it…” Stiles trails off, practically pressing his face to the glass.

Fallon looks at him flabbergasted, “Are you crazy?! The last thing we should do is antagonize him.”

“Look, it’s trapped, okay? It’s not gonna get out,” he reassures them. The Alpha snarls once more, making Stiles jump on the desk to look at it dead on. He shines his light directly at the werewolf, “Yeah, that’s right, we got you…”

Fallon slaps his back, “What did I just say?” She seethes. “Don’t antagonize it! You’re just gonna piss it off even more than it already is.”

Stiles squares his shoulders, “I’m not scared of this thing–”

He’s swiftly cut off by the Alpha slamming its paw right in Stiles’ face where he was looking. The boy falls off the desk and into Scott’s arms with bated breaths. He scoffs slightly, trying to straighten his posture, “I’m not scared of you,” he calls out, his voice trembling slightly. “Right, ‘cause you’re in there, and we’re out here. And you’re not going anywh–”

A loud crash is all they hear as parts of the ceiling come crashing down from where the Alpha was previously trapped. The three of them slowly look up, hearing the heavy footsteps of the creature who is now crawling over them, inside of the roof. Stiles flashes his light up to the ceiling tiles which are bending under the weight of the werewolf.

Fallon pats Scott’s chest as they start backing away, “Run. Go. Now. Please,” she says in her broken up language. Scott nods his head, the trio taking off around the corner in search of another room to lock themselves in.

They run through random areas of the school that even Fallon didn’t know actually existed. She holds onto Scott’s shoulder as she hops alongside the two of them. Their pace is quick, but not too quick to where they’ll knock her over. She’s not sure how long they’ve been running around for, but it’s been long enough that she definitely needs her pain medication. Unfortunately, she left that in her backpack, which is at Stiles’ house. He insisted she leave her stuff there, saying they’d be back in no time. Look how that turned out.

“Wait, do you hear that?” Scott asks them, abruptly halting his movements. His brows are furrowed as he listens to something that Stiles and Fallon can obviously not hear.

“Not all of us have supernatural hearing, Scott,” Fallon reminds him. “So no, we don’t hear it.”

Scott shakes his head, “It sounds like a phone ringing…” Both of his friends look at him confused. They should be the only one’s in the school, and it’s none of their phones that are going off. Suddenly an alarmed look crossed his face, “I know that ring– it’s Allison’s phone.”

“Wait, are you sure?” Fallon asks him, worry filling her gut at the thought of Allison being stuck in the school with a psycho killer roaming around.

“Yes!” He exclaims, panic lacing his voice. “I-I need to find her. Do either of you have your phone?” He sticks his hand out, his anxieties skyrocketing. He needs to make sure she’s safe.

Fallon nods, grabbing her phone from her pocket and opening it. She pulls up Allison’s contact, pressing the call button before handing it straight to Scott.

She can see his shoulders visibly relax just the tiniest bit as he hears Allison’s voice. She sounds fine. He puts her on speaker so that Fallon and Stiles know what’s going on. “Fallon?” Allison asks, confused.

“No, it’s me,” Scott tells her as he and his two friends move with a new sense of urgency, trying to find Allison before something bad happens. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the school looking for you,” she reveals. “Why weren’t you at my place?” She queries, a bit of hurt in her voice.

“Where are you right now?” He questions her, needing a precise location.

Fallon can hear how lost Allison is, “On the first floor…”

Scott huffs loudly, clenching his fists at how vague her answers still are. “Where? Like where are you exactly?”

“The swimming pools.”

“Get to the lobby,” he instructs strictly, not giving her a chance to ask questions or protest. “Go. Now.”

“Okay. Okay,” she replies. “I’m coming.”

The three of them rush out towards the lobby, hoping to still find the girl in one piece. Fallon uses Stiles for support as they pick up the pace. Scott pushes through the lobby door, a sense of comfort filling him as he sees his girlfriend running towards him.

“Why did you come? Why-what are you doing here?” He rushes out, quickly oncing over her body to make sure she’s not hurt.

Allison furrows her eyebrows, “…Because you asked me to.”

Scott looks just as confused as she does, “I asked you to?”

Allison pulls out her phone, going to the texting thread between her and Scott. Delivered straight from him is a message that says, “Meet me at the school. URGENT.”

Fallon and Stiles share a disturbed look. Does that mean the Alpha has Scott’s phone? Allison picks up on the sudden fear filled tension the trio is sharing. She lowers her phone, “Why do I get the feeling that you didn’t send this message?”

A grim expression takes over Scott’s face, “Because I didn’t.”

Fallon hobbles forward, moving to stand next to Allison. “Did you drive yourself here?” She asks her friend worriedly.

Allison shakes her head, “Jackson did.”

“Jackson’s here, too?!” Scott exclaims, not wanting to have more people be exposed to the dangers of the supernatural.

“And Lydia,” Allison adds quickly. A frown etches its way into her face. All she wants is answers as to why they’re all three acting so odd. “What’s going on? Who sent this text?” Before anyone can think of a lie to answer her questions, her phone starts to ring. She sighs, pressing the device to her ear, “Where are you?”

Simultaneously as Allison asks that, Lydia and Jackson burst in through another door. The strawberry bl made throws her hands up, hanging up the phone she used to just call Allison. “Finally!” She huffs. “Can we go now?”

Allison looks to Scott for confirmation, but the only thing she’s answered with is a heavy thud from above. Stiles, Scott, and Fallon all look at each other, knowing exactly what’s causing the noise. The other three look confused but they definitely weren’t getting an explanation anytime soon. The creaking grows louder and that’s when they know they don’t have much time to get out of there.

Scott grabs Allison’s hand, “Run!” He shouts.

Stiles grabs Fallon, the two of them taking up the back of the group as they dart up the stairs. The heavy panting from the Alpha echoes close behind, thankfully no one dares to turn around, too afraid of being slowed down. They run straight across a long hallway before bursting into another empty classroom. Stiles and Fallon stop, the girl wincing as she plops down in the teachers chair. There’s no way she’s getting this cast off by the end of next week.

When she glances up, she notices the large wall of windows ahead of her. Stiles gapes at the same thing, both of them having the same thought. They would be sitting ducks if they stayed here. The sound of bolts clicking and the door locking causes them to turn around. Jackson and Scott are hurriedly locking and trying to block them in with desks and different arrays of items.

“Help me get this in front of the door.”

Fallon shakes her head, “No, Scott. Wait, we can’t stay–”

“What was that?” Allison talks over the brunette anxiously. She tries to get her boyfriend to answer her, “Scott, what was that?”

“What came out of the ceiling?” Lydia piles onto her friend’s questions, shuffling in her feet nervously.

Jackson and Scott ignore the two girls, piling more and more things in front of the door. Fallon puts her head in her hands, not being able to watch the train wreck unfold. They’ve basically just locked themselves in their own coffin. The Alpha can easily get to any of them.

Her leg is throbbing along with her head. She’s wishing more than anything that she had taken her pain pills before coming here. Not that she’ll need them for very much longer. At this rate she’ll end up dead and not have to worry about broken bones.

“Will you just help me?” Scott calls out to the girls. “The chairs– stack the chairs,” he instructs in a panic.

Allison and Lydia do as they’re told, stacking and moving the chairs where everything else is. Stiles starts to get irritated that no one is listening to him and Fallon, “Guys– can we just wait a second?” Everyone continues moving in a frenzy, not paying any mind to the only two people not assisting. “You guys, listen to me, w–” He frustratedly runs a hand through his buzzed off hair. Fallon feels her own anger bubbling at them just being blatantly ignored. “Can we just wait one second? Guys? Stiles talking,” he comments sarcastically. “Can we hang on one second, please?”

“HEY!” Fallon screams, sick of being talked over. “Would you all just shut up for like ten seconds and listen? Holy crap,” she breathes out, standing up from her seat. All eyes turn to her. They all look spooked, never having heard the brunette raise her voice like that, especially not at them. She limps over to Stiles, her frustration preventing her from sitting still.

“Thank you…” he mutters to her. When his gaze meets everyone else’s he begins to clap sarcastically, “Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job, everyone,” he points to their mountain of furniture mockingly. “Now... What should we do about the twenty-foot wall of windows?” He turns his back to them, presenting the large window pane like it’s an expensive car at a dealership and he’s the salesman.

They all just stare at him awkwardly. No one thought of that, and it shows. Instead of coming up with a solution, the only thing that can be heard is the hysterical breathing of Allison. “Can somebody please explain to me what's going on, because I'm freaking out here. And I would like to know why.” No one answers her so she walks over to her boyfriend, looking at him expectantly, “Scott…?”

Scott looks lost. He doesn’t know what to tell her without completely exposing the truth. Fallon shakes her head, telling him to make up a creative lie. They can’t risk dragging other people into this mess. The werewolf storms away from Allison who keeps looking at him for answers. He braces his arms on a desk a few feet away, his mind running a marathon. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Somebody killed the janitor,” Stiles blurts out.

Fallon spins her head to him so fast. Her eyes look as though they are about to pop out of her head. Everyone is already freaked out enough and he just went and told them that there’s a dead body in the school. He notices the way Fallon’s eye twitches and takes a small step away from her. She fights off the urge to strangle him as Lydia screams from her spot.

“What?!”

“Yeah, the janitor’s dead,” Stiles continues. His heart is in the right place trying to help Scott, but this is the wrong way to go about it.

Allison shakes her head, like denying it will make it go away. “What’s he talking about? Is this a joke?”

“What? Who killed him?” Jackson asks.

Lydia exhales, her whole body trembling, “No, no, no, no… This was supposed to be over… The mountain lion killed–”

“No, don’t you get it?” Jackson snaps, cutting her off. “There wasn’t a mountain lion.”

“Who was it?!” Allison demands. “What does he want? What’s happening?” She asks in a whisper. Scott stays quiet, his mind reeling with possible explanations and people he could blame. “Scott?!” She screams at him.

The boy turns around, stammering, “I-I don't know. I-I just– If-if we go out there, he's gonna kill us.”

“Us?” Lydia’s voice goes up an octave out of anxiety. “He’s gonna kill us?”

“Who?” Allison reiterates. “Who is it?”

Her doe eyes land on Stiles and Fallon who she thinks should also have the answers. Fallon glares at Stiles for bringing up the dead body in the first place. “Fallon?” Allison whispers.

The brunette sighs, rubbing her hand over her face frustratedly. “We don’t know–” She tried to answer in a half-truth but is cut off by Scott.

“It’s Derek,” he lies. “It’s Derek Hale.” Fallon’s face falls as she hears the false accusation. She narrows her eyes at him, disgust being the only readable emotion on her. The poor man might be dead and Scott’s trying to pin another murder on him? One they know for sure he did not commit.

“Derek killed the janitor?” Jackson furrows his eyebrows skeptically.

Allison’s mouth opens and closes, “A-Are you sure?”

“I saw him,” Scott insists, voice raising out of both irritation and desperation.

Lydia shakes her head, “The mountain lion–”

“No!” Scott yells. “Derek killed them.”

“All of them?” Allison asks fearfully.

“Yeah. Starting with his own sister.” This lie is what does it for Fallon. She grips tightly onto the desk next to her so she doesn’t lunge forward and kill Scott. It makes her sick to her stomach how he can say something like that.

“The bus driver?”

“And the guy in the video store.” Scott confirms. “It's been Derek the whole time. He's in here with us. And if we don't get out now, he's going to kill us, too.”

Fallon could only stare at Scott in disbelief. She thought he’d come up with a creative lie, not pin three murders on someone who has already been released as a person of interest. She glances at Stiles who looks just as baffled as she does. They both clearly think it’s a terrible and immoral idea to throw Derek under the bus for this, but Stiles won’t argue against it like she will.

“Call the cops,” Jackson orders.

“No,” Stiles replies.

Jackson looks at Stiles angrily, “Wh-what do you mean, ‘no?’” He asks incredulously.

“I mean, no,” Stiles glares at the jock. “You wanna hear it in Spanish? ‘Noh.’” He puts on his best Spanish accent to accentuate his sarcasm. “Look, Derek killed three people, okay? We don’t know what he’s armed with,” he says, playing into Scott’s lie.

“Your dad is armed with an entire Sheriff’s department,” Jackson argues loudly. “Call him!”

Lydia pulls out her phone, not even bothering to ask Stiles. She takes a step forward, “I’m calling.”

“No, Lydia, would you just hold on a sec–” Stiles tries to follow after her, not wanting to put his father or other lives in danger. Jackson pushes Stiles backwards making Fallon jump forward despite her leg.

“Hey–” she smacks Jackson’s arm away from Stiles’ body. “Touch him and I break it,” she threatens.

“Yes, we’re at Beacon Hills High School,” Lydia tells the operator. “We’re trapped, and we need you to–” she’s stopped by the person speaking to her. Her perfectly manicured brows raise in shock, “But–” she tries to protest, but it’s no use. A distressed and shocked look overtakes her face as she removes her phone from her ear, “She hung up on me…”

“The police hung up on you?” Allison asks bewildered.

“She said they got a tip warning them that there are gonna be prank calls about a break-in at the high school. She said if I called again that they're gonna trace it and have me arrested,” she explains, tears forming at her waterline.

“Okay, then call again,” Allison instructs.

Stiles shakes his head, “No, they won't trace a cell, and they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here.”

Allison stutters, bringing her hands up to her temples to rub her head frustratedly, “What the– what- what is this?” She laughs humorlessly. “Why does Derek wanna kill us? Why does he want to kill anyone?” She asks, making everyone's head turn to Scott who still looks like he’s trying to get his story straight.

“He doesn’t…” Fallon mumbles lowly enough that only Stiles can hear. He sends her a pointed look, one in which she returns.

“Why’s everyone looking at me?” Scott says defensively.

“Is he the one that sent her the text?” Lydia interrogates.

“No,” he shakes his head exasperatedly. “I mean, I don’t know.”

“Is he the one that called the police?”

“I don’t know!” Scott finally snaps at Allison’s last question which makes her frown and look away, hurt by his harsh tone.

While Fallon does want to smack Scott upside the head for the web of lies he just created, she does feel bad that he’s receiving all the heat. He’s in the exact same position they are all in, and probably has some questions of his own about what’s going on. He doesn’t have the answers for everything. The rapid fire questioning is starting to get on her nerves, so she can’t imagine how he feels.

Scott realizes he took his anger out on the wrong person. He looks down at the floor, ashamed of how he talked to Allison. Stiles places his hand on Scott’s chest, “All right, why don’t we ease back on the throttle here, yeah?” He pulls Scott off to the side, dragging Fallon behind him. “Okay, first off– throwing Derek under the bus? Nicely done.”

Fallon scoffs with a venomous smile, “Yeah, great work,” she nods sarcastically. “Y’know for blaming a most likely dead dude for three murders, one in which he’s already been exonerated for. You’ve been relying on him to teach you how to control yourself, Scott. You both also have already gotten him arrested, so if he did survive that, I guarantee he’s not going to be so forgiving this time around,” she lectures.

“I didn’t know what to say!” Scott defends himself. “I had to say something, and like you said, if he’s dead, then it doesn’t matter, right?”

“I said most likely,” Fallon crosses her arms. “He’s still a werewolf who survived a bullet wound and being almost burned alive in his home.”

Scott’s hope for Derek being dead dwindles. He groans at his own temper, “Oh God, I totally just bit her head off.”

“And she’ll get over it,” Fallon rolls her eyes. “Love you both but the last thing any of us are worried about right now is your teeny weeny fight. If she stays mad, then let her. Got more important things to focus on here.”

“Agreed,” Stiles nods. “Biggest issue we got right now is how do we get out of here alive?” He asks.

“But we are alive,” Scott points out logically. “It could’ve killed us already. It’s like it’s cornering us or something.”

“So, what? He wants to eat us all at the same time?” Stiles questions mockingly.

Scott scoffs at the overdramatization, “No. Derek said it wants revenge,” he brings up.

“Against who?” Fallon ponders. “The Argents?” She suggests. The only people she remembers having any negative reputation with werewolves is them simply because they’re hunters.

“That's what I’m thinking,” Scott nods.

“Maybe that’s what the text was about,” Stiles snaps his fingers as he tries to connect the dots to each other. “Someone had to send it.”

“Okay, assheads! New plan–” Jackson interrupts their conversation causing the trio to look over at him. Fallon chooses to ignore the rude nickname seeing as everyone is on edge. “Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?” He gestures to the two girls with him.

“You don’t have to do that, Sti,” Fallon whispers to him, rubbing his back with her hand.

Stiles looks troubled as Scott sends him a look that says the opposite of what Fallon just said. “He’s right. Tell him the truth if you have to. Just… call him.”

Stiles shakes his head, leaning over to whisper, “I’m not watching my dad get eaten alive.”

“Which is completely justified,” Fallon agrees, glaring at Scott. “Would you put your mom’s life at risk with the Alpha wandering around the halls?” She quips.

Jackson grows angry at the lack of action being taken. He lunges forward, reaching to forcefully remove the phone from Stiles’ hand. “All right, give me the phone!”

Fallon has tried this whole evening to keep her anger at bay. But her fear and frustrations are coming to a boil. So when she feels Jackson shove Scott and her to get to Stiles, her resolve finally snaps.

One moment, Jackson’s arms are outstretched to push her to the side, the next Jackson is groaning in pain and retreating back over to Lydia and Allison. “Damn,” Fallon grumbles, shaking her now swollen, bright red hand. Jackson’s face is sporting the shame shade of red right where her fist collided with his skin.

Stiles and Scott wish they could say they were shocked, but this has been a staple for Fallon since they met her. Stiles smirks proudly, recalling the time she defended them against Tony in the third grade. She’s never been a fan of bullies, even if she’s on good terms with them herself. Defending Scott and Stiles has always been her priority and that’s why she ignores the slight dirty looks from Allison and Lydia.

“Dad, hey, it's me,” he greets until he realizes his father didn’t actually answer. “And it's your voicemail. Look, I need you to call me back now. Like, right now. We're at the school. Dad, we're at the school.”

Stiles hangs up the phone, ending the voicemail to his dad. Fallon massages her knuckle, shrugging over to Jackson who glares at her. That might put a bigger dent in their so-called “friendship.” Out of nowhere, the doors to the room start to shake. All of them jump with a yelp as the Alpha bangs on them trying to get through to the group of teens. Despite the high tensions, they all huddle together in attempts to protect themselves.

“The kitchen. The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell,” Stiles says, keeping his eye on the door that’s shaking.

“Which only goes up,” Scott reminds him.

“Up is better than here,” Fallon adds, slowly inching her way to the stairwell.

“Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?” Scott asks urgently, hoping that can be there escape plan rather than having to explain stealing Derek’s Camaro.

“Five, if someone squeezes on someone’s lap.”

Allison turns to him with a scoff, “Five?!” She exclaims. “I barely fit in the back.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Stiles reality checks the situation. “There’s no getting out of here without drawing attention.”

“What about this?” Scott starts, walking over to the door on the other side of the room. “This leads to the roof. We can do gown the fire escape to the parking lot in, like, seconds.”

“That’s a deadbolt,” Stiles points out as he goes to examine the lock.

“The janitor has a key.”

“You mean his body has the key,” Fallon clarifies as she joins the two boys, further away from the rest of the group.

“I can get it,” Scott tells them. “I can find him by scent, by blood.”

“Well, gee, that sounds like an incredibly terrible idea,” Stiles criticizes quickly. “What else you got?” He crosses his arms, waiting for a better plan.

Scott looks to Fallon to see if she’ll back him up. To his misfortune, she has the same defiant look as Stiles. “Don’t look at me,” she shrugs. “I’d rather not have to explain to our parents why you got murdered going to fish some keys off of a dead body. I prefer you alive despite how stupid I think you are.”

The boy looks at her determinedly, “I’m getting the key,” he persists.

Fallon rolls her eyes at his superhero complex. She does appreciate his effort and need to save everyone, but sometimes it’s too dangerous. She really doesn’t want to see him get hurt, or kidnapped, or killed. There are many different ways this could go with the Alpha watching them.

“Are you serious?” Allison asks him aghast.

“Well, it’s the best plan,” Scott admits. “Someone has to get the key if we wanna get out of here,” he explains.

“You can’t go out there unarmed.”

Scott agrees, scanning the room to look for some kind of weapon. He reaches over, grabbing a long pointer stick the teacher who occupies the classroom probably uses for lectures. They all look at him warily. He shrugs, “Well, it’s better than nothing.”

“There’s gotta be something else…” Stiles frowns, Turing on his heel to find something more useful for his friend to defend himself.

Lydia searches as well, her eyes landing on the cabinet full of different chemicals behind her, “There is,” she smirks. Fallon follows her sightline, tilting her head as she picks up on what Lydia’s getting at.

Stiles throws his hands up when he notices what they’re looking at, “What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?”

Fallon sighs, “No– it’s kinda like a fire bomb,” she tries to explain in terms Stiles would understand.

Lydia nods, “In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail.”

Stiles squints his eyes, still dumbfounded by what they’re saying, “Self…igniting…”

“…Molotov cocktail,” the strawberry blonde finishes snidely. She notices the odd look from her boyfriend, “What? I read it somewhere,” she covers, still trying to act dumb.

“We don’t have a key for that either–” Stiles tries to point out, but is cut off by Fallon walking forward and shoving her jacket clad elbow through the glass. It shatters and she steps away, brushing off the small pieces that stuck to the cloth. “Nevermind…” Stiles mutters.

Fallon rummages through the cabinet, getting all of the chemicals and items needed while Lydia works on combining the right amount of ingredients. They all watch the two girls work, Jackson handing Lydia the materials Fallon puts down.

“Jackson,” Lydia calls out for the blonde who’s standing closest to her. “Hand me the sulfuric acid.”

He mindlessly grabs a bottle and hands it to her. The bored look on his face makes Fallon roll her eyes, but he quickly becomes intrigued when he hears Allison become hysterical as she speaks to Scott.

“No. No, this is insane,” she looks at him with tear filled eyes. “You can’t do this. You cannot go out there.”

Scott sighs, trying to find the best way to comfort her, “We can’t just sit here waiting for Stiles’ dad to check his messages,” he argues softly.

Allison leans over the desk, “You could die,” her speech starts to become more frantic. “Don't you get that? He’s killed three people.”

“And we’re next. Somebody had to do something,” Scott says persuasively. Fallon understands that Allison is just worried, but if they just sit here and do nothing, they’ll have way less of a chance at surviving.

He goes to walk towards the door to leave the classroom, but Allison gets in his way, “Scott, just stop,” she begs him. “Do you remember-do you remember when you told me you knew whether or not I was lying? That I had a tell? Well, so do you. You're a horrible liar, and you've been lying all night. Just-just please, please don't go. Please don't leave us. Please.”

Fallon has never felt more awkward in her life. She knows how serious this is, but the over emotional-ness of the conversation is making her extremely uncomfortable. She rubs the back of her neck, looking anywhere but at the couple. However, there is one person who’s seemingly enjoying the little quarrel. Jackson. The brunette rolls her eyes, moving as far away from the blonde as possible.

Scott gives her a regretful look before trying for the door again, “Lock it behind me,” he breathes out. Allison doesn’t let him get far before pulling him back to her by his arm. She connects her lips to his, making everyone else glance in another direction. Fallon doesn’t understand their relationship. One minute she’s mad at him for leaving, and now this. It’s giving her whiplash and she’s not even involved.

Once the door shuts behind Scott, Fallon walks over to it and locks it. “Good luck, Scotty,” she whispers, hoping he hears her. Now it’s all about waiting. The brunette slides into a spot besides Lydia who is watching Jackson comfort Allison from afar. She nudges the strawberry blonde, “You okay?”

Lydia scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, “No, obviously I’m not okay. We are all stuck in the school with some crazy killer out to get us and our only hope of getting out is if Scott manages to hit Derek with that cocktail.”

Fallon sighs, “I know. But I have faith in him. Scott’s resourceful. He won’t let us die here.”

Lydia doesn’t respond, a frown etching its way into her features as she watches Jackson hold Allison’s hand. Fallon glares in his direction. He has a girlfriend who needs him too, and yet he’s over there preying on Allison. “I never understood why you pretend to be dumb in front of him.”

Instead of pretending she’s clueless to what Fallon’s talking about, Lydia just shrugs, “The same reason you’ve never accepted the co-captain position,” she answers simply.

Fallon lifts an amused brow, chuckling slightly, “Touché.”

“Men’s egos are a fragile thing,” Lydia mutters almost disgustedly.

Fallon nods in agreement, “Especially ones like Jackson.”

Lydia hums quietly, wanting to say something but holding back for the sake of her relationship. She slowly ventures out from behind the desk and towards Jackson. Fallon doesn’t try to stop her because there is no convincing Lydia to break up with him. There never has been. She just hopes that the shorter girl realizes her worth and how much more she could do if she didn’t hold herself back for him. Or any guy for that matter.

“So the Incredible Hulk made a special appearance tonight, huh?” Stiles’ voice pulls her out of her thoughts.

Fallon looks down at her feet to hide her smirk, “I didn’t mean to…” she mumbles. “I just saw Jackson coming at you and it kinda just… came out, I guess.” She admits.

“Well, not that you need me to tell you, but I thought it was super badass,” he nudges her shoulder with his own smile. His small grin fades when he notices her messing with her fingers. A habit she has when she’s nervous. “We’re gonna be okay, Fall,” he whispers, lacing his fingers with hers.

A sense of warmth fills her chest. She squeezes his hand, mindlessly rubbing her thumb on the back of it. “I know…” she says unsurely. Stiles shoots her a pointed look. “Or at least I hope so,” she gives in to her insecurities about the situation.

“We’ll get out of here,” he reassures her, kissing the side of her head. She sighs, nodding her head before leaning onto his shoulder. He wraps his arm around her waist to hold her close. As much as he wants to say he’s comforting her, having her next to him like this is doing more for his anxieties than hers. “And then by the end of next week, you’ll have this stupid thing off,” he pats her cast, “then this will all feel like some stupid, distant memory.”

“I don’t know about distant,” she jokes quietly. “But definitely something we can trauma bond over.”

“Dead bodies and Alpha werewolves,” he nods, his lips in a thin line. “Nice.”

“Jackson, you handed me the sulfuric acid, right?” Lydia’s voice pulls their attention over to where she, Jackson, and Allison are standing. “It has to be sulfuric acid– it won't ignite if it's not.”

“I gave you exactly what you asked for tonight,” Jackson snaps tensely, glaring at Lydia for no reason.

Lydia looks taken aback, almost flinching at the sound of his voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure you did.”

Silence falls over the room, no one really knowing what to say to one another. The tension is high as they wait for any sign of Scott or safety. A few minutes later, a loud growl comes from somewhere within the school. Everything in the building felt like it was shaking. Fallon covers her ears, the loud noise becoming too much to handle. Everyone else has the same reaction, cowering away from whatever it could be… except for Jackson. He falls to his knees, clutching the back of his neck.

Lydia and Allison rush to his side and try to help him up, but all Fallon and Stiles could focus on is the marks on the back of his neck. Marks that look vaguely similar to werewolf claws. Fallon’s eyebrows furrow. It couldn’t have been from the video store. The Alpha didn’t even touch him then.

“No, I’m fine,” Jackson brushes the girls off. “Like, seriously– I’m okay.”

“That didn’t sound okay at all,” Allison argues.

Stiles goes to reach for the claw marks, “What’s on the back of your neck?”

“I said I’m fine!” Jackson slaps Stiles’ hand away with a withering glare.

Fallon grabs Stiles, pulling him back. They both know exactly what’s on his neck. Lydia glances at the two friends, “It’s been there for days,” she explains. “He won’t tell me what happened.”

The blonde scoffs harshly, “As if you actually care,” he says snidely.

“Woah,” Fallon puts her hands up. “She wouldn’t be asking if she didn’t care, asshat. So why don’t you try responding respectfully this time before I punch you so hard that I actually break something?” She takes a menacing step towards Jackson but is yanked backwards by Stiles.

“Calm down,” Stiles scolds her. “Can we not argue for like half a second here?” He begs everyone.

Allison glances to the door worriedly, “Where’s Scott? He should be back by now.”

Suddenly there was a small click at the door. Almost like the sound of it being unlocked from the outside. Allison’s eyes widen as she shoots towards the door, “Scott! Scott!” She screams. She frantically tries to turn the door knob, but it doesn’t budge. He must be holding the handle still from the outside. She continues yelling for him, desperate to make sure he’s okay.

“Stop! Stop!” Lydia yells, catching Allison’s attention. She stops screaming and wriggling the door handle. “Do you hear that? Listen.” Everyone stays silent and that’s when they hear the heavenly sounds of police sirens. Noah got Stiles’ message.

They all walk towards the window, sighing in relief as they see police cars pulling up to the school one by one. Fallon leans into Stiles’ side once she realizes that what he said was true. They are all going to be okay. Stiles smiles softly, leaning his head on top of hers, happy to accept the affection.

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

Fallon sits on the edge of an ambulance, the EMT’s doing a bit extra than what they did for the others due to her broken leg. Stiles sits next to her, not wanting her to be alone while Scott stands at her other side. Doesn’t leave much room for the paramedics to do their job, but she doesn’t want them to leave her side.

“You sure it was Derek Hale?” Noah Stilinski asks skeptically to the three teens.

“Yes,” Scott answers confidently.

“I saw him too,” Stiles adds.

Noah narrows his eyes, still not totally convinced. He glances at the brunette, “Fallon?”

The girl wasn’t sure what to say. Derek wasn’t guilty of anything they were accusing him of. She couldn’t just throw him under the bus… again. But she also can’t go against Scott and Stiles. She groans, hiding her face in Scott’s arm, “I need a nap,” she replies. Hopefully this response is neutral enough to not warrant any more questions.

The sheriff doesn’t push for any more information, assuming the brunette is just exhausted and frightened after the long night they’ve had.

“What about the janitor?” Scott questions, wanting to know if they found the man’s body.

Sheriff Stilisnki nods apprehensively, “We’re still looking.”

“Did you check under the bleachers? Under them?” The werewolf continues to push for a more solid answer, emphasizing every word.

Noah sighs, “Yeah, Scott, we looked. We pulled them out just like you asked. There’s nothing.”

Fallon closes her eyes as she leans against Stiles. So not only is the Alpha a killer, but he also knows how to cover up his crimes… comforting.

“I’m not making this up,” Scott says defensively, knowing that no one here besides the people next to him believe him.

“I know. I believe you, I do.”

“No, you don’t,” Scott says sadly. “You have this look like you feel bad for me. Like you want to believe me, but I know you don’t.”

“Listen– we’re gonna search this whole school. We’re gonna find him, okay?” He places a hand on Scott’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. “I promise.”

Fallon isn’t exactly sure how far this promise is going to go. With how many unexplainable things that happened tonight, they’ll be lucky to even find a logical explanation for the werewolf sized holes in the ceiling.

A deputy calls out for Noah, making him sigh. He’s reluctant to leave the three teens to their own devices. He gives them all a strict look, “Stay. All three of you.”

He walks away, leaving the trio to their own devices. Fallon’s blinking becomes much slower, sleep threatening to take over her body. Stiles puffs out a breath of air, “Well, we survived, guys. You know? We outlasted the Alpha.” Scott looks a bit unsure which makes Stiles furrow his eyebrows. “It’s still good, right? Being alive?”

Scott sends them a serious look, “When we were in the chemistry room, he walked right by us. You don’t think that it heard us?” He points out the reality of their situation. “You don’t think it knew exactly where we were?”

“Then why wouldn’t it come after us?” Fallon frowns. “Why would it waste an opportunity to kill? It hasn’t before.”

“It wants me in its pack. But, I think, first… I have to get rid of my old pack.”

Stiles tilts his head, “What do you mean? What old pack?” He asks, confused.

Scott’s face shows nothing but regret and Fallon knows why. She sits up, taking her head off of Stiles’ shoulder. “Us,” she answers. “He means us.”

Stiles looks at Scott, shock covering his face. Their werewolf friend nods morosely. “The Alpha doesn’t want to kill us…” Stiles realizes.

“It wants me to do it,” Scott huffs loudly. “And that’s not even the worst part.”

Stiles’ jaw hits the floor. He groans exhaustedly, “How the holy hell is that not the worst part, Scott?”

“Because when he made me shift… I wanted to do it,” he admits shamefully. “I wanted to kill you. All of you.”

“Y’know, I appreciate the honesty,” Fallon begins. “But I would feel a whole lot better if you kept your murderous thoughts to yourself for the next forty-eight hours,” she squeezes her eyes shut. “Or at least until my headache goes away.”

“Fallon!”

The girl groans and forces her eyes open. Her father is barreling towards her, worry and anger the primary emotions he’s expressing. “Hey dad,” she greets groggily.

“I thought you said you were sleeping over at the Stilinski’s,” he bends down in front of her, checking her more thoroughly than the EMT’s did.

Scott and Stiles hold back their laughter at Michael’s overprotectiveness. Fallon rolls her eyes, “I was,” she defends herself. “But I accidentally left my phone in Mr. Harris’s class after detention and I didn’t realize until we got to his house,” she nods over to Stiles. “So I asked him to take me back and that’s when everything went downhill.”

Her lie is effortless, and it works very well with their situation. She has her phone on her now so it just looks like they found it and we’re on their way out when they got cornered. Scott walked off after seeing Allison, but Stiles just watches in awe. He would’ve believed every word that came out of her mouth if he didn’t live the experience with her.

Michael sighs, seemingly believing the fabrication. He leans forward to kiss her forehead, “All right, kiddo. I think it’s time to get you home.” She nods, letting Stiles and her father help her up. The surgeon nods, silently thanking the paramedics for their help. “You ready?” He asks her.

Fallon nods, “Yeah. I’m probably gonna sleep until I’m dead,” she says gruffly.

Michael cracks a small smile before patting Stiles’ back, “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“Of course Mr. Donovan,” he nods. “Couldn’t let anything bad happen to her, now could I? My life would be pretty boring.”

Michael smiles as his daughter hobbles over to his car, “You and me both, kid.”

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