Peter Hale - Tumblr Posts

Wolf Moon 1x01

Episode 2

 Loud music blares through Fallon’s headphones, keeping her in the zone as she finishes her fourth set of pushups. Thirty reps each. The alarm clock on her night stand read eleven-thirty PM. Rather late for the night before school, but she was determined to get a couple more minutes of training in before the big day. 

Fallon happened to be one of the star players on the lacrosse team at Beacon Hills high school. She worked her tail off to get to the position she’s in. She’s the only female on the team and with that came a lot of struggles with the males on the team. Coach Finstock though was never one to let the sexism slide, especially when she had more talent than most of the guys on the team. 

There weren't many other sports in the small town. She would’ve loved to play volleyball, softball, or even field hockey, but none of those were really options. Lacrosse was everything, so Fallon made sure she was good at it. Her father never protested her sudden passion for the sport. It became a good outlet for the emotions she likes to keep suppressed. 

It also was a good way to keep busy in such a boring town. Nothing really happens in Beacon Hills. It’s the same thing everyday. The only thing that provides a little relief for the brunette is her two best friends. Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski. The same two boys she met in the third grade. They were the only things that made the bleak town bearable. She especially enjoyed their weekly movie nights which involved many complaints from Stiles when Scott would refuse to watch Star Wars. He was especially peeved when Fallon had managed to convince him to watch the entire Harry Potter series without much effort. But even though he was mad, he still enjoyed her pick just as much as Scott did. 

Standing up from her workout position, she wipes the sweat off her forehead before taking a sip from her water bottle. She briefly glances at the unfinished book on her head and internally groans at the fact she’ll have to discuss it in English the next day. Fallon absolutely loves to read, but tends to have a hard time when it turns into an assignment rather than something she does for fun. 

She takes a moment to stretch her muscles, hearing a satisfying crack come from her back when she twists. She sighs contently before throwing on one of the many oversized shirts she stole from Scott and slipping on a pair of sweats rather than the spandex she was just wearing. The rubber band that was once holding her hair in a tight ponytail is pulled out, letting it cascade over her shoulders in its natural position. A frown makes its way on her face when she sees how frizzy the top is. 

There’s not much time to fix the mess as her phone begins to buzz on the wooden desk that holds her large mirror. She furrows her eyebrows, wondering who would be calling this late on a school night. A familiar smirk takes over her face as she sees her most recent embarrassing photo of Stiles pop up on her screen. 

She lifts the phone to her ear, “Hello freckles,” she greets. 

“Hey, would you look at that? The Incredible Hulk answered,” he teases making Fallon roll her eyes. The Incredible Hulk is something he and Scott frequently called her after she had gotten in trouble for the third time over punching a kid. In her defense, it was always to protect Scott and Stiles. But she has been told on multiple occasions that she doesn’t usually think before smashing, hence the nickname. 

“Shut up,” she says with a smile. “What’s up though? Why’re you calling so late?” 

Her question is answered with a small pebble hitting her window with a small ‘click.’ Fallon sighs, knowing her buzzcut friend is waiting for her to open said entryway. She clicks her tongue, finding the whole situation amusing. When she walks over to the glass box, she looks down to see Stiles frantically waving his arms in the dark. His jeep is waiting just up the street, lights off in order not to disturb the neighbors. 

She rolls her eyes but nonetheless puts her makeshift ladder out the window. She, Scott, and Stiles had made this for her room a while back so they could sneak in late when needed. Not that Michael would ever mind, but they thought it would be easier than having to make a bunch of noise getting downstairs. 

She watches with her arms crossed as Stiles ducks and rolls into her room like a ninja. It doesn’t look as graceful as he probably assumed it did, but she’s never been one to burst his bubble. Unless it’s funny. 

His roll ends up with him hitting his head on the corner of her desk, due to him overshooting the size of her room compared to his body. He groans quietly and sprawls out like a starfish. 

Fallon shakes her head, walking over to help him up. “I knew that was gonna happen.” 

“Shh,” Stiles puts his finger to his lips. “You know nothing,” he claims with a whisper before gratefully accepting her hand to pull him up. 

“Oh, but I know you,” she counters. “And every time you do that, you manage to hit your head on at least one piece of furniture in here.” 

“You know what?” He challenges. “One of these days I’m gonna prove you wrong when I roll in here so smoothly that you won’t even see me. Count on it. Cause it’s gonna happen.” 

“Mhm, yeah, I’m sure it will,” she replies with fake enthusiasm. “Now do you wanna tell me why you’re sneaking into my room quarter till midnight or…?” 

“Right!” Stiles shakes his head, getting back on track. “Well, I overheard my dad’s call–”

“Meaning you eavesdropped,” she chimes in. 

“Tomato, potato,” he waves her off. “Anyway, that doesn’t matter. What does matter is that there’s half a dead body in the woods, and I need you and Scotty to help me find it.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Fallon raises an eyebrow. “Stiles, why the hell would I voluntarily go look for a dead body?” She asks him incredulously. “You shouldn’t even be wanting to look for a dead body. We have school tomorrow.” 

“Seriously?” He scoffs. “That’s the line you draw? School?” Fallon gives him a pointed look making him roll his eyes, “You seriously need to sort out your priorities.” 

“Stiles, I do not want to go out and find a dead dude!” She exclaims. “That’s a trauma I don’t need this early on in my life.” 

“C’mon,” he begs with his perfectly brown puppy dog eyes. “Please? You’ll have Scotty and I with you the whole time. What’s better than trauma bonding as a group, huh?” He smiles, placing his hands on her shoulders to shake her a bit. “Besides, how cool would it be if we did find it? Then we’d finally have a cool story to tell.” 

Fallon feels her resolve breaking. She taps her foot before sighing, “What did Scott say?” 

That’s when his smile falls. He clears his throat awkwardly before rubbing the back of his neck, “I haven’t exactly um… told him yet,” he admits. “I came here first.” 

“Why?” She asks but feels as though she already knows the answer.

“I uh– Okay, if I tell you gotta promise not to get mad because I don’t mean it offensively,” he sticks his pink out, waiting for her to lock hers with his. Fallon sighs but nonetheless links their pinkies together. Not that she would’ve gotten mad anyways. It’s just fun watching him squirm when she pretends to be mad. “I just figured you would be easier to convince,” he admits shyly. “And then Scott would follow if I got you on board.”

The brunette smirks at his answer, “You’re not wrong,” she concedes. “I suppose it wouldn’t be the most terrible thing getting one final adventure in before school starts.” 

Stiles claps loudly before dancing around in a circle, “Yes!” He celebrates. 

Fallon snags her jacket off the chair in front of her desk, slipping it over her body. “Alright, let’s go,” she nods at the window. 

Stiles furrows his eyebrows as he begins to follow her down the ladder, “I-Is that my jacket?” He asks her rather loudly as their feet hit the ground. 

Fallon shrugs with a small grin, “Maybe.” 

“Yo-you can’t just keep stealing our clothes, Fall!” Stiles scolds, gesturing to the whole top half of her outfit. Both items were from his and Scott’s closet. “I’m pretty sure half of your closet consists of our stuff. We’re gonna have to start going to school naked at this point.”

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes. “You guys don’t even wear the stuff I take anyway.” 

“I wore that jacket last week!” He points out, opening the passenger side door to his jeep for her. “Until apparently you stole it.” 

Fallon raises her eyebrows at him and moves to take off the zip up, “If you really want it back that badly–”

“No!” Stiles stops her, making the girl smile smugly. “Just– just keep it,” he grumbles. “You already know it looks better on you anyway.” 

She reaches over, patting the side of his cheek, “That’s the spirit,” she teases. “Now, step on it. I’d like to get at least three hours of sleep after all this is over.” 

Fallon admires how much Stiles blatantly ignores the law. Watching him swerve around each corner in a Jeep that is only one duct tape roll away from falling apart is impressive. She wonders if he’d still be like this if his dad wasn’t the sheriff? Not that Noah wouldn’t put his son in a jail cell for his behavior, but it’s much less likely to happen. 

When the two get to Scott’s, Fallon watches with amused eyes as Stiles attempts to climb onto the roof. She shakes her head at his grunting before stepping forward to give him a small boost. He mutters a thanks before telling her to wait for him on the porch. The brunette takes a seat on the railing, kicking her legs back and forth as she waits for Scott to emerge from his house. She didn’t bother texting him, figuring that he heard Stiles’ pitter patter on the roof. 

She assumed correctly as she heard the front door to the McCall house creak open. She laughs quietly as Scott barely pokes his head out of the doorway before coming out with a bat clutched tightly in his hand. Before he even gets a chance to turn the other way, Fallon is already standing directly behind him. 

“Hey Scotty,” she whispers with a tap on the shoulder. 

He jumps with a high pitched yelp, turning around to see one part of the chaotic trio. “Fallon! Don’t. Do. That,” he exhales loudly, trying to calm his nerves. “What the hell are you doing here?” 

That’s when Stiles drops from the rooftop, dangling top down causing Scott to scream once more. The loud reaction makes Stiles screech in the same pitch as Scott, both of them freaking out at the other one freaking out. Scott’s knuckles are almost white with how hard he’s gripping the baseball bat. 

“Stiles!” Scott scolds. “Jesus! Wha– Why are you guys at my house?!” 

“You weren’t answering your phone!” Stiles yells back before glancing at the weapon in his hands, “Why do you have a bat?” 

“I thought you were a predator,” he answers obviously. 

Stiles looks at him like he’s the dumbest person alive, “A pre– I– wha–” he clears his throat, not having the words to address Scott’s concern. “Look, I know it's late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They're bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.” 

“For what?” Scott wonders. 

“Two joggers found a body in the woods,” Fallon answers as Stiles drops down, quite gracefully, from the roof. It baffles her how he can’t sneak into her window without injuring himself but flinging off a roof he does absolutely fine. 

Scott’s eyes widen, “A dead body?” 

“No, a body of water,” Stiles responds sarcastically. “Yes, dumbass, a dead body.” 

He climbs over the railing to join his friends on the patio. He leans his body weight on Fallon making the girl shove him playfully. “You mean like murdered?” He asks them, his brain not fully processing any of the information. 

“Nobody knows yet,” Fallon shrugs. “Just that it’s a woman, probably mid to late twenties,” she regurgitates the information Stiles had given her on the ride over. 

Scott shakes his head, “Hold on, if they found the body, then what are they looking for?” 

“That’s the best part,” Stiles all but squeals, buzzing in his beat up sneakers. “They only found half!” He can see the apprehension on Scott’s face and narrows his eyes, “We’re going.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     “I can’t believe you seriously agreed to do this,” Scott says to Fallon as they trek through the woods, trying to avoid stepping on anything that will make too loud of a sound. 

“It doesn’t take much to convince me to do anything,” she points out. “Plus, we’re always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town. So this gives us something to do.”

“Exactly!” Stiles high fives his best friend. “Thank you! See? This is why I went to get her first.” 

Scott huffs loudly, his asthma starting to flare up with all the sporadic walking. He loves Stiles and Fallon, but they can’t seem to keep a steady pace for the life of them. “I was trying to get a good night's sleep before practice tomorrow,” he complains. 

“Right, ‘cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort,” he mocks. “There’s only one person in this group who is actually good at lacrosse, and it’s definitely not you.” 

Fallon smacks his back, “Be nice.” She scolds. 

“Well, I plan on playing this year,” Scott states confidently. “In fact, I’m making first line.” 

Fallon smiles, finding Scott’s newfound faith in himself refreshing. They had been practicing a lot this summer. Both of them have gotten a lot better, she just hopes coach sees it the way she does. 

“Hey, that’s the spirit. Everyone should have a dream,” he pauses for dramatic effect,” even if it’s a pathetically unrealistic one.” 

“I think you’ll do great,” Fallon pats his back. “If you wanna make it off the bench, you just gotta believe in yourself.” 

“What is this a Disney movie?” Stiles scoffs with a laugh. “Sing a song and do a little dance all about faith and suddenly your first line? That what you did, Fall? ‘Cause that would explain a lot.” 

“Shut up,” she shoots a nasty glare at him. “I’m just saying you both have the talent to do it. Scott just might have a better chance ‘cause at least he has hand-eye coordination.” 

“I so have hand-eye coordinati–” Before he can finish his sentence, he yelps in pain as he smacks his hand on a tree when using it to talk. 

“Would you look at that?” She smirks, strutting past him with her arm around Scott’s shoulders. 

Stiles grumbles something incoherent, no doubt cursing Fallon out for the comedic timing of that situation. He barges forward, separating her and Scott by placing himself in the middle. He wraps his own arms around the two of them and wiggles his eyebrows, “Who says there’s a crowd?” 

Scott and Fallon both laugh as they move branches out of their face, “Just out of curiosity, which half of the body are we looking for?” He inquires. 

Fallon can’t help but wonder the same thing. She feels stupid for not asking prior to coming out here, but she was too caught up in the spectacle that is Stiles. 

There’s an elongated and uncomfortable silence between them as they await a response. “Huh. I didn’t even think about that,” he reveals thoughtfully. How ironic. 

Fallon narrows her eyes at him, “And what happens when whoever murdered the body is still wondering out here? Waiting in the shadows for three idiotic teenagers to come rolling through.” 

“Also something I didn’t think about.” 

“Great,” she nods with a faux smile. “It’s really comforting to know you planned out what could potentially be the end of our lives with such a grueling attention to detail.” 

“I know,” he says, feeding into her sarcasm. 

As the three of them begin climbing up hill, Fallon stays behind Scott to keep an eye on him. She can hear him heaving loudly and knows that he’s going to need to stop soon. He trips over a small twig due to lack of light since Stiles is so far ahead. Fallon puts her hands on his back to guide him up the rest of the way.

“Maybe the severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” Scott pauses, leaning against a tree to take a hit of his inhaler. 

Suddenly, Stiles is flying forward and pushing his body so low to the ground that Fallon was convinced he wanted to become part of the leaves. That is until she sees the search party from the Sheriff’s station a mere few feet ahead. She yanks Scott off the tree before pulling him down towards Stiles. All three of them lay stomach down growing increasingly more nervous as they hear the search dogs barking. Fallon reaches over, turning off Stiles’ flashlight since he seems to think that won’t give away their presence.

They wait for a brief moment until the group of people begins turning the other way. Stiles smirks before shooting up from his spot and sprinting forward. “Hey, come on!” Scott groans, standing up along with Fallon. “Stiles!” 

Weaving through trees in the dark was not Stiles' most brilliant idea. Fallon narrowly avoids tripping over a tree trunk, gaining some ground as she begins to catch up to Stiles. She can hear Scott wheezing behind her so she just hopes he can manage to keep up. 

“Stiles!” Fallon yells, trying to get him to slow down. 

He seems to hear her warning scream before slowing down. He squints to try and see her form through the darkness. A loud barking catches his attention as he spins around, screaming when a bright light gets shone in his face. Not even a second later, he’s launched forward by Fallon’s body colliding with him from behind. 

The two teens groan loudly. Fallon places a hand over her face to shield her eyes from the light. “You seriously couldn’t have stopped before literally ramming into me?” Stiles asks, pushing himself off the ground before helping her up. 

“It’s not like I could see,” the shorter girl seethes. “You’re the only one with a freaking flashlight.” 

Stiles goes to argue but the deputy holding a light in their face already looks tired of their antics. He goes to grab the two by their forearms until the exact voice the teens didn’t want to hear calls out. 

“Hang on, hang on,” Noah Stilinski steps forward, looking at Fallon and Stiles with different levels of disappointment. “These little delinquents belong to me.” 

Fallon smiles at the man awkwardly, feeling shame rise in her throat at his disapproving gaze. She tries her best to clean the mud off her sweats but figures it would just be best to wait until she gets home. “Hey Sheriff,” she says meekly. 

Noah can’t help but let himself smile a little, “Hey Fall.” His stoic demeanor returns as he switches his attention over to his son, “So, Stiles, do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” He questions, knowing exactly how his son got the information to be out here. 

“No, heh.” Stiles tries to deny, but the stern look from his father causes him to fess up. “Not the boring ones.” 

Sheriff Stilinski raises his flashlight to analyze the woods around him, “Okay. Now, where's the third stooge to make up this incomplete set?” He asks, continuing to look around.

Fallon internally hopes Scott stays hidden. The last thing they all need is for all three of them to get caught. “Scott?” Stiles asks.

Noah nods, “Who else?” 

“Sc-Scott’s home,” Fallon covers. “He was smart and said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for the first day back at school.”

Stiles looks at Fallon, impressed with her lie. He nods in agreement, “Ye– Yeah. It’s just us two. In the woods. Alone.” He glances at his best friend who nods her head rather obnoxiously. 

The trio never really had trouble lying. They do way too many mischievous things not to be able to lie with ease. However, whenever Fallon does lie, especially to Noah and Melissa, Scott’s mom, it slowly chips away at her soul. They trust her more than they trust their own kids, whereas Fallon’s dad seems to trust the boys more. She’s a year older than them which adds to the reason why their parents take her word more often than Scott and Stiles. It’s a maturity difference. 

It’s not that Michael didn’t trust his daughter, he just knows she’s just as bad as the boys are, if not worse. Even though he spends a lot of his time at the hospital, being as he’s a well renowned surgeon, he still knows his daughter. His job is the reason why they move so much. When she was younger he used to be a surgeon in the military and they would have to move to different bases. But after her mom died, Michael decided it was time to settle down and give Fallon a chance to actually have a childhood. His daughter finally found a group of friends that’s a perfect fit for her, and he couldn’t take that away. Hence why he’s found a steady job at Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. 

Noah looks in between the two unsurely, “Scott, you out there? Scott?” When no one answers, the sheriff sighs before wrapping his arms around the two troublemakers. “Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you both back to your car. And you are going to drive Fallon home where I expect an update that you made it safely,” he says to the young girl who nods. “Then when I get back, you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy.” 

Fallon nods, giving him a tight-lipped smile. She looks down at her feet as Noah lectures the two. He more so scolds Carver for listening to Stiles and going along with his crazy plans. The two of them say nothing and try to take responsibility for their actions. Well, Fallon tries. Stiles probably isn’t listening. Once the blue Jeep comes into view, Noah pushes the two gently towards the vehicle, sending them off. “Please Fallon, don’t sink down to his level. You’re the only one out of the three of you that really has a brain,” he says, poking fun at his son. 

“Hey!” Stiles scoffs. 

“I won’t, sir. Thank you for not calling my dad,” she hugs him gratefully. 

“Of course, kiddo.” He pats her back. “Now get going you two. You got school in the morning.” 

As soon as the doors to the jeep shut, Fallon glances back out into the woods. Stiles starts the car, staring at his friend curiously, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Scott,” she tells him, not looking away from the window. “I didn’t see where he went. And how is he gonna get home?” She wonders worriedly. 

Stiles places his hand on her thigh, squeezing it softly to get her attention. She turns her head towards him and his soft brown eyes force her to listen, “He’ll be fine,” he reassures her. “Scott’s smart. Plus, it’s only a ten minute walk from here to his house. He can call if something bad happens.” 

She bites the inside of her cheek, but ultimately nods. She takes her best friend's hand in hers, squeezing it as he drives her back home. 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon whips her motorcycle into the small parking spot near the front of the high school, Scott hugging her back tightly trying not to fall off. She laughs before putting the kickstand down and taking the small key out of the ignition. Scott is the first one to hop off the bike, taking off the extra helmet she purchased just for him so he wouldn’t always have to bike to school. 

“I’m telling you Scotty, I think it would be beneficial if I got a sidecar for you to ride in,” she teases, tightening her backpack straps around her shoulders. 

“No way,” he shakes his head. “I already hold onto you like a desperate koala bear, I don’t need to look like an actual child too.” 

Fallon laughs, looping her arm through his. She’s careful to avoid the bloody bandage that covers his side. Scott had called her and Stiles that morning, informing them that he had been bit by some creature in the woods when trying to find his way home. He confided in Fallon, revealing that he believes what bit him was a wolf. She, of course, was skeptical as there aren’t really many wolf sightings in California, let alone Beacon Hills. But she wasn’t going to make him feel worse about his situation. She did leave him in the woods alone which resulted in this injury. Plus, she can just leave it to Stiles to burst his bubble. 

“Hey, Donovan!” Her friend Danny Mahealani greets with a smile. “You ready for practice?” 

Fallon smiles back, doing a little handshake with him, “Yeah, I’ll see you there!” 

The goalie is quick to run off, catching up with his best friend, Jackson Whittemore. The blonde boy with an icy exterior looks over at Scott and Fallon, sending a small nod of acknowledgement to the brunette girl, completely ignoring Scott’s presence. Falling waves at him in response as she and Scott walk up to Stiles. 

“I still can’t believe you willingly talk to that guy,” Stiles glares at Jackson with distaste. 

Fallon rolls her eyes, “Good morning to you too.” 

“I’m just saying,” he defends himself. “He’s kind of a jerk.” 

“He’s really not that bad once you get to know him,” Fallon reasons. “Don't get me wrong, he can be a complete asshole to people he doesn’t like, but he’s not that bad.” 

“You got me out of a potential three month grounding so I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” Stiles tells her before giving Scott his undivided attention. He gestures to his side where the bite mark is, “Okay, let’s see this thing.” 

Fallon removes herself from his arm, giving him space to lift up his shirt. Scott winces as the material lightly hits the bandage. She can’t help but scrunch her face up with disgust. Even after he changed the badge this morning blood is still seeping through it. She can’t even imagine the amount of pain he must be in. 

Stiles on the other hand was completely enamored with the situation.

“Ooh!” Stiles almost admires the wound, reaching out to touch it. 

Fallon slaps his hand roughly, “Dude!” She looks at him like he’s crazy. “Boundaries.” 

Stiles frowns, shaking his hand to get rid of the burning sensation her smack left. Scott pulls his shirt down, “It was too dark to see much, but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.” 

Fallon discreetly looks at Stiles to see that he is in as much disbelief as she was when Scott told her his theory. “A wolf bit you?” Stiles asks, sending the shorter brunette a bewildered expression. 

“That's what he said this morning too,” Fallon sighs. 

“No, not a chance,” Stiles denies bluntly. Which is what Fallon wanted to say, but she didn’t have the heart to ruin Scott’s story. 

“I heard a wolf howling,” he insists.

“No, you didn’t,” Stiles laughs at the absurdity. 

Scott scoffs, “What do you mean, ‘No I didn’t’? How do you know what I heard?” He asks, slightly offended. 

Fallon tilts her head sympathetically, “Scotty, California doesn’t have wolves. They haven’t in like sixty years,” she explains. 

“Really?” Scott stops in his tracks, surprised by the new information. 

“Yes, really!” Stiles throws his hands up for emphasis. “There are no wolves in California.” 

“Okay, so since we’ve settled this, can we get to class please?” Fallon asks, grabbing their arms to drag them through the bright blue double doors. 

Scott shakes his head with a cocky smile, “All right, well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf then you’re definitely not gonna believe me about when I tell you… I found the body,” he reveals. 

Fallon’s jaw drops. She blinks rapidly, hoping she truly just heard what he said. Stiles seems to be in the same state of shock before completely freaking out. “You– Are you kidding me?” He bounces up and down. 

“No, man,  I wish.” Scott readjusts his lacrosse bag. “I’m gonna have nightmares for a month.” 

Stiles and Fallon have a mini freak out together, laughing at how their little escapade didn’t end in complete disaster. “What half was it?” The older girl asks curiously. 

“The top half,” he tells her. “And let me just say, it was brutal. It looked like her body was ripped in half by some kind of animal,” he recalls, shaking his head to rid his mind of the haunting image.

“Oh my God, that is freaking awesome!” Stiles exclaims. “I mean, this is seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since– since the birth of Lydia Martin…” Freckles trails off, watching after his long time crush as she walks up the steps.

Lydia’s strawberry blonde hair flows beautifully behind her with every step. Each and every curl in its rightful position. Her lips glisten under the sunlight from the cherry lip gloss she applies every morning. Her dress fits her figure wonderfully as it moves up and down with each step she takes. Her heels click, catching everyone’s attention as she struts by. It’s a crime that she hasn’t been recruited by a modeling agency yet. And by the drool on Stiles' chin, he seems to agree. 

“Hey, Lydia, you look–” 

“Hey Fallon, love the shirt,” Lydia swiftly cuts him off, looking directly at the brunette as she compliments the long sleeved, off the shoulder red shirt. It’s accompanied by her low rise black ripped jeans and white converse. 

Fallon smiles politely, “Thanks, Lyds. You look beautiful, as always.” 

“I know,” Lydia confidently hums before walking into the school with one of her many friends. 

Stiles looks at Fallon, steam practically coming out of his ears. He’s fuming. She can’t help but laugh at his unfortunate circumstances. He’s had a crush on the girl since they knew what the word crush meant. It always peeved him when Lydia would only talk to Fallon. He supposes it makes sense since pretty people always seem to herd together. 

“I hate you,” Stiles directs jokingly to their girl best friend. “After all these years, you still haven’t even gotten her to look in my direction.” 

“I can’t force her to look at you, Stiles,” Fallon chuckles. “Lydia’s her own human. She does as she pleases. Hell, I'm lucky if she even looks my way.” 

“Whatever,” he grumbles. “I hope you know that you’re the cause of this,” he then moves the blame to Scott. “Dragging me down to your nerd depths to the point where even Fallon can’t save me. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been scarlet-nerded by you.” 

The bell rings loudly indicating it’s finally time to walk inside. Fallon wraps her arms around Stiles, “Not sure if it’s Scott’s fault you’re stuck in the nerdom. I think you got yourself there just fine on your own.” 

“You seriously make me want to rethink my policy on hitting a girl.” 

The trio continuously bickers as they walk down the hallway to their shared English class. Fallon was pleasantly surprised when she noticed how many classes they had together. They each find their seats, Stiles one row away from Scott while Fallon is directly behind her freckled friend. 

Their teacher is quick to write the first topic of study on the board, “As you all know, there indeed was a body found in the woods last night.” The trio all share collective smirks at the mention of their most recent quest. “And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody, which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining this semester.” 

Everyone in the class audibly groans, hating the extra paper that comes with the syllabus. No one in their right mind actually reads the words on those pages. She truly thinks it’s a waste of time and trees for teachers to make these. Students don’t usually look ahead that way. They simply wait until the topic comes up to worry about what comes with it. Without much thought, Fallon immediately starts folding the paper into a ninja star, not really caring if her teacher sees. Stiles reaches over, handing her his syllabus so she could do the same for him. 

When she finishes, she throws it back at Stiles, nailing his neck. He glares at her, but it’s short lived as the two of them notice Scott glancing around the classroom. He looks confused. Fallon watches him carefully, trying to find exactly what he’s searching for. His eyes stop at the window as he stares outside, looking completely zoned out. There’s a girl sitting on the bench in the direction he’s looking. Gorgeous, long brown hair is covering her face as she rummages through her backpack. 

Fallon shakes her head, assuming that Scott must be staring at the girl. She returns her attention back to her ninja star, also throwing it at the back of Stiles’s head. He flinches roughly, the pointy paper hitting him on his sensitive scalp. He rubs the spot and Fallon goes to laugh but is interrupted by the door to the class swinging open. 

The principal walks in with the same girl who was just sitting on the bench outside. She’s new. Fallon leans back in her chair, grinning at the nervous brunette standing at the front of the room. Their teacher pushes his chair back to stand, the wheels squeaking loudly as he does so. 

“Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent,” the vice principal introduces. “Please do your best to make her feel welcome.” 

The new girl walks to the back of the classroom, taking the open seat behind Scott. Fallon can already see how smitten her friend is by the girl. Allison looks to her left and sees Fallon, smiling slightly at her. She waves in return, trying her best to come across as friendly. Her eyebrows furrow though when Scott spins around and hands Allison one of his brand new pens. 

She smiles gratefully, not understanding how Scott knew of her desperate need for a writing tool. She accepts it with a hint of wariness, “Thanks.” 

Stiles slowly turns around to Fallon, looking as completely confused as her. They both shrug at each other, not having an explanation for their friend's odd behavior. 

Soon enough the bell rings, releasing them from the tiny prison that is their English class. Fallon stands from her spot, gathering all of her items before walking out of the room with Stiles and Scott. The three of them make their way down the hallway until Fallon notices Allison stopping at her locker. She realizes that Scott and her locker is just down the way as well, so she wordlessly drifts away from her two guy friends to hopefully try and befriend the new girl. 

Scott and Stiles don’t even notice Fallon’s absence until they reach Scott’s locker and realize she’s no longer behind them. They both quietly freak out when watching her approach Allison. 

“Hey,” Fallon greets, getting the taller brunette’s attention. 

Allison spins around and immediately smiles at the sigh of a familiar face, “Hi…” she greets back. “You’re the girl who sits next to me in English,” she recalls. 

“Yeah, that’s me,” Fallon chuckles. She sticks her hand out to formally introduce herself, “My name’s Fallon Donovan, but all my friends call Fall.” 

“Are you saying we’re friends?” Allison raises a teasing eyebrow. “Next thing you know, you’ll be my date to prom,” she jokes, opening her locker to get another book. 

Fallon shakes her head, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to come off as super forward or anything.” 

Allison laughs, “You didn’t,” she reassures. “I was just teasing. I’d actually love to be your friend, you seem nice. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have at least one person in this school I can talk to.” 

Fallon grins, “Well, I’m honored to be your first real friend.” 

“That jacket is absolutely killer,” Lydia’s voice catches the two girls' attention as the strawberry blonde zeroes in on Allison’s outfit. “Where’d you get it?” 

Allison quickly looks at Fallon, her anxieties rising from Lydia’s approach. She clutches onto her bag before answering, “My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco,” she says.

Lydia smirks, “And you are my new best friend,” she giggles. “Especially if you’re already in good with our lacrosse star here,” she nods over to Fallon. 

“I hope you’re not talking about Donovan,” Jackson’s voice calls out as he walks up to Lydia, wrapping his arms around her from the side. “Because there’s a reason she’s not the captain,” he teases. 

“Yeah,” Fallon nods. “Because someone had to make sure your ego wasn’t too bruised,” she quips back without much thought. 

Lydia slaps Jackson’s chest before kissing his cheek, “Play nice,” she scolds. 

“She knows I’m joking. It’s just how we talk to each other,” he explains. 

“Just remember who keeps you from getting your shoulder bashed in,” Fallon reminds him in a sing-song tone. 

“Ignore them,” Lydia tells Allison fondly. “That’s what I do.” She shifts her position so she’s putting her entire body weight on Jackson, “So, this weekend there’s a party,” she reveals. 

“A party?” Allison asks unsurely. 

“Yeah, Friday night,” Jackson confirms. “You guys should come,” he says to Fallon and Allison.

Fallon can tell immediately how tense the offer makes Allison. She can see her mind running a million miles a second to try and come up with a lie. Luckily, she has Fallon who seems to be quite adept at making things up on the fly. 

“Uh, unfortunately we can’t this Friday,” Fallon says, looping her arm through Allison’s. “She actually just got done inviting me to her Family’s game night. Y’know, board games, dinner, all that jazz,” she clears her throat. “But we really appreciate the invite. Maybe next time.” 

Allison squeezes Fallon tightly as a thanks, “Yeah,” the taller girl confirms. “She’s the first friend I made so I want to introduce her.” 

“You sure?” Jackson narrows his eyes. “I mean, everyone’s going after the scrimmage. I know Danny will be disappointed that you’re not going,” he says to Fallon. 

She doesn’t fall for his guilt trip, staying strong with Allison. “You mean like football?” The jacket clad girl asks. 

Jackson scoffs at her question, “Football’s a joke in Beacon Hills.” 

“The sport here is lacrosse,” Fallon adds before whispering, “I know it’s weird. But there’s literally nothing else to do here.” 

Lydia nods in agreement, “You’re either on the team or you’re in the stands cheering them on,” she squeezes Jackson’s cheek. 

“We’ve won the state championship the past three years,” Fallon reveals impressively. 

“Because of a certain two players,” Lydia dotes on both Fallon and Jackson, making her blonde boyfriend roll his eyes. 

“Keep rolling those baby blues Whittemore,” Fallon tilts her head tauntingly. “Maybe you’ll find a brain back there.” 

“Oh dear God, not again,” Lydia huffs, begging for the two to not start play fighting. 

“Well, we have practice in a few minutes,” Jackson tells Allison, fighting off the urge to say something else to Fallon. “That is, if you don’t have anywhere else–”

Allison tries to find an escape route, “Well, I was going to–” 

“Perfect,” Lydia cuts her off. “You're coming.” 

Lydia grabs both Fallon and Allison’s hand as they walk the former and Jackson to the locker rooms. Fallon leans over to Allison, “Sorry… But hey, you can wear my number if you want,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

Allison simply giggles as the shorter brunette disappears into the girls locker room. 

       · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon exhales loudly as she finishes her fourth lap around the track. Coach has them run a full mile before practice starts to keep their bodies warmed up on the field. He blows the whistle, yelling something incomprehensible to a group of guys. That’s when she notices Scott and Stiles finally making their way out to the field. She laughs as she watches Stiles overdramatically berate Scott for trying to play this year. The brunette places her hands above her head as she travels over to her best friends. 

“Took you guys long enough,” she smiles, readjusting her lacrosse jersey with the number six plastered on the front. She chose number six as her number last year because it’s always been somewhat of a lucky number for her. It’s also even and Fallon has always had a thing for even numbers. It scratches an itch in her brain when everything is even. 

“I still don’t understand how you get out here so fast,” Stiles breathes out heavily. “Like do you full on sprint or something? Wear your gear under your clothes? Or are you like some witch and didn’t bother telling us?” 

“Definitely not,” Fallon replies sassily. “If I was, I’d use a spell to make you have better aim.” 

Scott’s attention is completely elsewhere from his bickering friends. He’s too focused on Allison who is smiling directly at him from the bleachers. His heart jumps slightly, and he’s so distracted that he doesn’t even hear Coach Finstock walking up to him.

“McCall!” The loud man catches his attention, making Scott spin around.

“Yes, Coach,” Scott stands straighter as if he was  addressing a drill sergeant. 

He throws him a different lacrosse stick with a bigger net and a helmet, “You’re on goal.”

Scott looks lost at the instruction, “I-I’ve never played,” he reminds. 

“I know,” Coach nods. “Scoring some shots will give the boys and Donovan a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing,” he pats Scott’s shoulder, acting as if he didn’t just say something extremely offensive. “Get them energized, fired up!”

“What about me?” 

“Try not to take any in the face,” he advises, smacking Scott’s cheek. 

Fallon frowns, walking up behind Scott. She rests her arm on his shoulder, “You got this,” she encourages. “Show him that you’re so good that he’ll have no other choice but to make you first line. You’ve got this.” 

Scott still looks rather uneasy so Fallon stands on her tippy toes, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I believe in you,” she whispers before running off to join the rest of the team. A half smile etches its way onto Scott’s face, but it quickly fades as he makes his way to the goal. 

Fallon and the rest of the guys line up, getting ready to throw their balls in the net. Coach blows his whistle, signaling for the first player to start. Fallon watches with furrowed brows as Scott clutches his head tightly. She goes to say something, but she’s too late. The ball flies through the hair, colliding directly with Scott’s helmet. He falls over, making both Fallon and Stiles, who is on the sidelines, wince.  

Everyone else on the team, including Coach laughs at the situation. She shoulder checks the guy in front of her, getting him to stop making fun of Scott. Her glare was enough to get him to shuffle away from her. Thankfully, Scott rises from the ground not seeming to be hurt by the collision. She breathes out relieved, whispering words of encouragement under her breath. Not that he could hear her, but it couldn’t hurt to put it out in the universe. 

Coach Finstock throws the ball at the next player as he runs forward at full speed. Fallon almost makes herself look away, but she’s so grateful she didn’t as she watches Scott catch the ball with ease. Her eyes widen the same way Scott’s do. He smiles dopely at Fallon who laughs victoriously. The rest of the team looks just as surprised as they do, but no one bothers to question it out loud. 

The next guy goes, seemingly more determined since Scott caught the last one. He chucks the ball near Scott’s ankles, the goalie moving nimbly to catch it. “Go Scott!” Fallon cheers, earning a few glares from her teammates behind her. 

As the line moves forward, Scott continues to catch the balls without breaking a sweat. She has no idea where this sudden burst of skill came from. Sure he’s grown over their training sessions over the summer, but not this much. She grins happily as she watches Scott’s confidence grow with each success. 

It’s finally Fallon’s turn and she gets ready to run at him. Scott gets into position, looking more determined than ever. The whistle blows and the ball is thrown in her direction. She catches it like a professional, weaving in different directions to throw her friend off. She’s proud of him, but that doesn’t mean she’ll go easy on him. She spins before cocking her stick back and throwing the ball toward the upper left corner of the net. Her jaw hits the floor as Scott moves with an unnatural speed, her ball sliding into his net like butter. 

She nods her head impressed, “It’s so on,” she whispers.  

Scott winks at her and she shakes her head before moving to the benches with the rest of the players. She plops down next to Stiles who suddenly is sitting up much straighter. Fallon looks out and notices Jackson has cut the rest of the line, taking the next spot. She swallows thickly, noticing the way the blonde’s jaw clenches. He’s not happy about Scott’s sudden burst of talent. 

Everyone sits on the edge of their seat as Jackson moves in almost slow motion. He jumps high in the air, chucking it with the intent to knock Scott off his feet. Fallon holds her breath as the ball soars through the air and Scott maneuvers with just as much determination, catching his ball as well. 

Everyone shoots up to their feet, clapping and hollering for their new star player. “That’s our friend!” Stiles screams, shaking Fallon’s shoulders. 

“Whoo!” 

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon jumps into the small stream after Scott and Stiles, her beat up sneakers getting completely soaked. She cringes at the feeling of wet socks, but distracts herself by listening to Scott’s explanation on how he suddenly became a lacrosse God overnight. 

“I–I don’t know what it was,” he says, almost in disbelief himself. “It was like I had all the time in the world to catch the ball,” he explains breathily as they keep walking forward, retracing their steps from the night before. “And that’s not the only weird thing. I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. Smell things.”

“Smell things?” Stiles scrunches his nose. “Like what?” 

Scott sniffs in their direction, “Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket and the raspberry chapstick in Fallon’s.” 

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, digging her hands into her jeans. Her brain almost explodes as she pulls out a small chapstick container with a raspberry on the wrapper. “I didn’t even know that was in there,” she mumbles. There’s a small pause before she shrugs her shoulders, popping the lid off and applying it to her lips. 

Stiles scoffs, believing that it must be a coincidence. He grumbles something about not having gum in his jacket pocket, but closes his mouth when he pulls out a half eaten piece of green gum. He looks at Scott, then Fallon, the adderall not doing much to keep his overactive mind at bay. 

“So all this started with the bite?” Fallon inquires, keeping pace with the two boys. 

“Well, w-what if it’s like an infection? Like my body’s flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?” He voices his worries, the most over dramatic scenarios filling his mind. 

“You know what? I actually think I’ve heard of this,” Stiles begins with a straight face but Fallon can already tell his end goal is to mess with their anxious friend. “It’s a specific kind of infection.” 

Scott stops in his tracks, his face turning pale white, “Are you serious?” 

“Yes,” Stiles deadpans. “Yeah, I think it’s called lycanthropy.” 

Fallon has to stop herself from laughing out loud. She covers her mouth with her hand as Scott looks even more concerned than before. “What is that? Is that bad?” 

“Oh, yeah, it’s the worst,” Stiles confirms. “But only once a month.” 

“Once a month?” Scott stares at him confused. 

“Yeah,” Fallon nods, grinning like an idiot. She leans on Stiles’ shoulder,  “On the night of the full moon…”

Both her and Stiles howl in the air, stumbling backwards as Scott shoves both of them. They laugh obnoxiously, Fallon clutching her side from the stitch forming since she’s laughing so hard. Stiles drags her along as they follow after a butthurt Scott. 

“Hey, you’re the one who heard a wolf howling,” Stiles defends himself and Fallon as the girl wipes a tear of joy from her eye. 

“Dude, there could be something seriously wrong with me!” 

“We know,” Fallon nods. “You’re a werewolf,” she growls in his face. “Pretty lucky if you ask me. It would be pretty cool to be able to hear everyone else’s conversations.” 

“You would just wanna eavesdrop on Scott and I when we talk without you,” Stiles scoffs. “No gracias,” he wags his finger in her face. 

“Oh please,” she rolls her eyes. “I would not waste that on something as small minded as your guys’ conversations. Plus, it’s very rare you guys are even together without me, so.” 

“She’s got a point,” Scott adds. “And we also end up telling her everything anyway.” 

“Okay, who’s side are you on wolf boy?” Stiles glares at Scott. “Y’know, don’t be surprised when you find me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find. Soon as the full moon hits on Friday, I’m shooting your ass just for that.” 

“Again, Sti, shooting anything requires hand eye coordination. Something that you lack desperately,” Fallon insults smoothly, almost running into Scott’s back because of his abrupt stop. 

Stiles takes the chance and flicks her on the back of the head making the girl whimper. She places a hand on the back of her head before kicking Stiles’ shin. “N-no, I could’ve sworn this was it,” Scott points to the ground, ignoring the two behind him like he usually does. “I saw the body, the deer came running,” he bends down to get a closer look at the ground. “I dropped my inhaler…” he trails off, moving some leaves around in hopes that it got buried somewhere. 

“Maybe the killer moved the body,” Stiles suggests. 

Scott sighs, “If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like eighty bucks.” 

Fallon bends down a few feet away, moving some stray leaves and twigs around to see if the inhaler could’ve fallen somewhere else. If the deer came running at him, it could’ve been launched further away then he assumed. She looks up at the sky, watching as the clouds part, giving way for a small ray of sunlight to shine through. The yellow glow covers the forest and makes her smile when she hears some birds chirping overhead. The woods in Beacon Hills is actually a beautiful place when there’s no dead body’s found in it. 

The hairs on the back of the brunette’s neck stand up. She hears the small crunch of a leaf and turns her head over towards a large tree trunk. There is a bit of movement and suddenly her doe eyes are met with a pair of bright green ones. She rapidly scrambles to her feet, standing up impossibly straight as she maintains eye contact with the strange man watching them with a scowl written on his face.

It takes her a moment to process, but when she does she’s kicking the back of the boys’ legs. “Guys,” she whispers urgently. “Get. Up.” She commands through her teeth. 

When they turn around, they both practically crawl out of their skin. They had no idea the stranger was standing there. They mimic Fallon’s previous actions, trying to make it to their feet without falling over like the clutz’s they are. 

“What are you doing here?” The man asks as he begins to approach the trio. “Huh?” He mocks, waiting for one of them to answer. “This is private property.” 

Carver gulps, her hands becoming very sweaty as he grows closer. She fiddles with her fingers, “Um we were just uh– yeah– um, we– we didn’t know that,” she stumbles over her words, trailing off at the end. Stiles looks at her with disbelief. He’s never seen Fallon at a loss for words on any topic. Especially with people who are trying to appear intimidating. She’s the first one to try and knock them down a peg. 

Fallon didn’t know why she was suddenly so nervous. She’s reciting what she wants to say in her head, but it can’t seem to come out of her mouth. The man keeps his eyes focused on her for a moment, Fallon doing the same. They both appear to be analyzing the other. He tilts his head in interest, looking her over before his attention is pulled by Scott. 

“Yeah, we were just looking for something, but…” He pauses, getting an almost eerie feeling from the leather clad man. “Uh, forget it.” He shrugs, getting ready to walk off with his friends. 

The man reaches into his jacket pocket to grab something, tossing it at a rapid pace directly towards Fallon. She catches it, surprised by her own reflexes. That's when she notices it’s Scott’s blue and white inhaler. She glances back up at the man, their eyes connecting once more. “Thanks,” she mutters. As he begins to walk away, she calls out, “Nice jacket by the way.” 

He stops, his frown never fading. He narrows his eyes like she’s some sort of puzzle he can’t find all the pieces to. He nods his head in response to her compliment and continues on his way. Fallon keeps staring at his retreating form until he disappears behind the tree line. She drops the inhaler into Scott’s hand who looks just as baffled as she does. 

He wipes the curiosity off his face, “Alright, come on. I need to get to work,” he states, nudging his friends to follow after him.

Stiles quickly jerks in front of them, preventing either of them from going anywhere. He slaps Scott’s chest, “Guys, that was Derek Hale. You remember, right? He’s only like a few years older than us,” he explains, making Fallon look back in the direction where Derek had walked off. 

“What are we supposed to be remembering exactly?” Fallon asks curiously.

“His family,” Stiles answers. “They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago.”

“What?” Fallon’s posture slumps out of empathy. She had moved to Beacon Hills only a few years after that, and if he’s only a couple years older than them, he must’ve been pretty young when it all happened. “That’s terrible,” she frowns. “I wonder why he would come back after something like that.” 

Stiles stares off into the same direction as Fallon. He scoffs before shaking his head, “Come on,” he mumbles. “Let’s just go.” 

It takes the brunette girl a moment to move from her spot. She keeps her eyes stuck on the scenery ahead, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious man. She doesn’t know if it’s just her empathetic heart, but she feels the need to check if he’s okay. But judging by his behavior, he probably doesn’t take too kindly to strangers, or anyone for that matter, checking in on him. 

“Fall,” Scott calls out. “You coming?” 

Her head snaps in their direction, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m coming.” 

The trio walks back the same way they came, jumping over puddles and kicking up leaves. She finds her mind continuously wandering back to Derek. She didn’t understand how he managed to appear out of thin air. Then he disappeared just as quickly as he came. Picturing him in her mind, the only emotion on his face that she could identify was anger. Nonetheless, he still seems like a very intriguing character. One she wouldn’t mind seeing again. 

She turns around to look at her best friends. They stare back at her expectantly, waiting for her to say what she clearly has on her mind. She sighs dreamily, “You know, I can’t lie, I know he’s a creepy stranger we just found in the woods, but he is one good looking man,” she compliments. “I’ve never really been one to have a type, but that might be it.” 

“Shut up, Fallon,” Stiles squints his eyes at the girl in disgust. “I should’ve known you’d have an affinity for older men. You thought John Stamos was hot when we were in sixth grade.” 

“And I stand by my statement.”

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Walking through the hospital doors, Fallon adjusts her scrubs and volunteer badge before making her way over to her father’s office. She knocks on the door and is greeted with a tired ‘come in.’ When she walks in, she can see her father looking more drained than ever. He’s been on call for the past four days because he’s been covering for the other surgeon who is currently on vacation. 

She smiles softly at him, “Hey dad.” 

He looks up and for a moment, the creases in his forehead disappear as he stares at his daughter with happiness in his eyes. “Hey honey,” he replies, getting up to give her a hug. “That time already?” He asks, referring to her uniform. 

“Yeah,” she huffs. “Gotta get some hours in if I wanna make money,” she laughs breathily. For the past year or so, Fallon has been a paid volunteer at the hospital. She brings patient’s food, medication, takes their vitals, that sort of stuff. She wants to be a firefighter–paramedic after graduation so she needs some medical experience before going into training. Hence why she’s at the hospital. Thankfully Melissa and her father got her in without much of a hassle. 

“You should be focusing on school and teenager things,” Michael lectures gently. “You have the rest of your life to work and worry about making money.” 

“It’s still good experience, dad,” she continues, setting down the small bag that contains her father’s dinner on his desk. “It’ll look good when I apply to the academy.” 

Michael sighs, “Are you sure that being a firefighter is what you wanna do?” He questions. 

“Firefighter–paramedic,” she corrects. “And yes, I’m sure.” There’s a distant yet painful look in her eyes and Michael knows exactly what caused it. “They’re the first ones on the scene. They have the opportunity to save people before they even get to the hospital. And after everything that happened with mom, I–” she sucks in a deep breath. “I just want to help people,” she whispers. “And I feel like this is how I can do it.” 

“I know,” Michael nods, kissing the side of her head. “I just don’t want you to limit yourself because of– well, you know…” 

Her mom’s accident. Yes, she knows. 

“I’m not limiting myself, dad. I just know what I want to do with my life. That’s all,” she shrugs, pushing down the negative feelings rising up in her throat. 

“And I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he pinches her cheek lightly. “I wake up everyday grateful that you turned out the way you did,” he grins. “Despite your attitude here and there.” 

“Oh don’t pretend like you don’t secretly love it,” she giggles, stealing one of his fries. “Plus, you can’t be mad since I get it all from you.” 

“I don’t know,” he jokes unsurely. “You definitely got your mouthiness from your mother,” he says fondly. “She didn’t have much of a filter either.” 

“Hey, I have a filter on some occasions,” she defends. “It’s just the very rare occasions.” 

Michael laughs at his daughter's humor. He shakes his head before digging into his turkey club sandwich that she picked up from the deli. “So how was school?” He queries. “And lacrosse practice? You finally accept the co-Captain position?” 

Fallon sits down across from him, “School was good. Lots of syllabi, some homework from Mr. Harris, but that was to be expected,” she rolls her eyes. “Lacrosse practice went well too. Scott’s now the team's star player,” she reveals playfully. “Guess the summer practices actually paid off. But uh, no. I haven’t accepted the position. I just don’t really feel the need to be co-Captain. It’s just a title. Besides, most of the guys listen to me over Jackson anyway.” 

“You’ve always been a natural leader,” Michael admits. “But it wouldn’t hurt to take the opportunity while you have it. You work hard. You should get recognition for it.” 

“I do,” she chuckles. “I’ve played in every game since I got on the team. That’s all the recognition I need. I might have a big ego, but it’s not that bad.” 

Truth be told, Fallon has never felt the need to be co-captain with Jackson because she already gets the respect she desires from the rest of the team. They know how good she is and they know she’s been offered the position, so they treat her as if she said yes. It’s a comradery thing in a way. She doesn’t want them to look at her as if she’s stuck up. She’s heard the things some of the guys say about Jackson, and she doesn’t want them to view her in the same light. She’s just as much of a team player as anyone else. She doesn’t need to be team captain to prove her worth. 

“Alright,” Michael nods, moving on. “So Scott’s all of a sudden super good? That’s awesome,” he celebrates. “That means you’re a good teacher. What about Stiles? How’s he doing?” 

“Stiles is… Stiles,” she answers with a laugh. “He’s still a genius spaz head, but of course, his lacrosse skills are still a bit lackluster. Nothing a little more practice wouldn’t fix,” she says optimistically. “I mean, he’d probably have to take a whole bottle of adderall to focus long enough for practice, but I think he could do it.” 

“I’m sure he appreciates your optimism,” Michael responds amused. “Well, I should probably get back out on the floor,” he huffs. “I’m sure Melissa is waiting for you to do her rounds so you should get out there too.” 

Fallon nods, standing from her chair. She hugs her dad, “I’ll see you at home. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     The next day at lacrosse practice, Scott informs Fallon of how Jackson confronted him about his newfound skills before heading out to the field. The girl scoffs, glancing in Jackson’s direction. He may never have any real issues with her, but it angers her to no end seeing how he treats Scott and Stiles. She forms a plan in her head on how she can hurt him in the most brutal way possible during today’s eliminations. The only person she’ll allow to harass Scott besides her is Stiles. 

Speaking of the devil, “Scott! Fallon!” Stiles screams out, his voice a few octaves too high. He slides to a stop in front of his friends who are trying to finish gearing up before heading out onto the field. “Guys, wait up.” 

“Sti, we’re playing the first elimination,” Fallon rushes out, gripping her stick. “Can this wait until after we’re done?” 

“Just hold on, okay?” He places his hands on their shoulders. “I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. they found animal hairs on the body from the woods!” He rushes out, panic evident on his face. 

“Stiles, we gotta go,” Scott grabs the rest of his stuff, pulling Fallon after him. 

“We’ll finish this right after, okay? I promise. But we gotta focus on this right now,” Fallon adds before being completely taken away. They run out to the center of the field, leaving an exasperated Stiles in their wake. 

Coach blows his whistle to get their attention, “Let’s go! Gather around! Bring it in. Come on!” Everyone rushes to form a semi-circle, waiting for the first instructions. Fallon notices Allison walk over to the bleachers, waving at Scott with a smile. She smiles endearingly when Scott waves back, but the smile is replaced by a cringe of embarrassment when Coach walks up to the boy. “Got a question, McCall?” 

Scott blinks, “What?” 

“You raised your hand, do you have a question?” 

The teens face flushes. He stutters a bit before shaking his head, “Oh, no, I was just uh… Nothing. Sorry.” 

Coach gives him an odd look, “Okay.” He turns his attention back to the team, “You know how this goes. If you don’t make the cut, you’re most likely sitting on the bench for the rest of the season,” he explains bluntly. “You make the cut, you play. Your parents are proud. Your girlfriend loves ya! Huh?” Fallon crosses her arms, lifting an eyebrow. Coach Finstock can feel her hard stare. He slowly spins around, “Or boyfriend. Whatever you prefer. No judgment here. I kissed a turtle once,” he blurts out, trying to remain as non-offensive as possible. “Anyway,” he shakes his head, “Everything else is, uh, cream cheese. Now, get out there and show me what you got!” 

Fallon rolls her eyes at the barbaric screams the boys let out. She simply spins on her heel and gets ready to play. She and Scott both happen to be on the same team with the burgundy jersey’s. The ball is in her position as she weaves out of Jackson’s reach. She notices Scott standing wide open and throws the ball directly into his net. He looks stunned for a moment but regains function as he takes off towards the goal. She follows closely behind, blocking for him if need be. He twirls around one of the players, but is met with a shoulder to the face by Jackson. 

Fallon feels her fury bubbling once more. She stomps over to Scott, helping him onto his feet. “Keep your personal issues off the field, Whittemore,” she warns. “Whatever problems you have can wait until after eliminations. And if we all need to sit in a circle together to share our feelings, I can assure you that I will make it happen.” 

Jackson’s jaw tenses. He glares at both Fallon and Scott before pulling his helmet back down and running back out to the field. The shorter brunette sighs, “Say the word and I’ll kick his ass,” she whispers to Scott. 

He shakes his head, glaring after the blonde boy. “I’ll be fine,” he insists. “Thanks though.” 

Fallon swears she could’ve heard him growl as he walks off, but she just chalks it up to his anger. Her body tenses when she realizes it’s the two boys against each other trying to get possession of the ball. She crouches down, getting ready to intervene if a brawl breaks out. The whistle blows and before Jackson can even blink, Scott’s already running away with the ball. 

She yells for him to pass it to her as the opposing team makes their way to corner him, but he doesn’t seem to hear her. He continues bolting across the field with such elegance and grace that it makes Fallon want to just stop and watch him work. She stumbles over her own feet as she watches him flip over three guys, landing without so much as a hit from his inhaler. Her pace slows and she narrows her eyes at her best friend as he throws the ball into the goal. Sure, everything he did at practice yesterday was impressive, but it was believable that he improved. This is completely different. There’s no way he’d suddenly have this amount of skill just overnight. It shouldn’t be physically possible for him to do that, especially since he’s a severe asthmatic. 

Her eyes travel over to Stiles and he looks more than nervous. He wrings his hands together as he stares at her with worried eyes. She’s starting to wish she would’ve let their buzz cut friend finish his story before they ran onto the field. 

After practice, and congratulating Scott on making first line, Stiles pretty much drags Fallon back to his house. He pulls her arm up the stairs, tripping up a few on the way there. He immediately slides into his desk chair, patting the small box he has on the side for her to sit down on. She does as he tells her, knowing that if he isn’t rambling incessantly yet that it must be really important.

“The animal hair they found on the was a wolf,” he finally blurts out, logging into his computer. 

“What?” Fallon furrows her eyebrows, not fully believing what he just said. “But, there aren’t–”

“Wolves in California? Yeah, I know,” he cuts her off. “But apparently now there is.” His fingers fly over his keyboard quickly. “Or at least some form of wolf,” he trails off, clicking on the first website that says the word lycanthropy. 

Fallon’s jaw falls slack at his selection, “Stiles, you don’t actually think…” She shakes her head. 

“I don’t know,” he exhales loudly, his eyes skimming over the information. “I mean, it would explain where his sudden superhero abilities came from. Look at this, one of the first things that comes up is enhanced abilities. Sense of smell, hearing, speed, strength, healing. It’s all here. If he was bit by an actual wolf, don’t you think it would’ve taken longer to heal?” 

Fallon thinks about it. He’s right. When she saw Scott changing, there wasn’t so much as even a scar on his side from the night he was attacked. And that was only two days ago. She stares at the photo that pops up on his screen. There’s a black wolf drawn on an old piece of parchment paper being pierced by a silver bullet. She reads over the article with him, all of the pieces seemingly falling into place. It makes sense, but at the same time seems impossible. Werewolves can’t be real. If they are, does that mean every other supernatural being exists? Or are she and Stiles just looking for something more intriguing to think about than what’s really going on?

“Here, read this,” Stiles hands her a book with the title Werewolves: A History typed in big bold letters on the leather cover. 

“Why the hell do you have an entire book about werewolves just sitting in your room?” She asks him, not sure if she really wants the answer. 

“It was for a D&D campaign,” he waves her off. “Just read it, and take notes on what you find.” 

Fallon sighs, reluctantly getting up from her spot. She opens up her backpack, grabbing a black pen and three different colored highlighters. Green, yellow, and red. Stiles catches the color scheme and pauses for a moment. Those are the colors he uses when trying to solve his dad’s cases. A small smiles makes its way onto his lips, wondering if they mean the same thing for her as they do for him. 

Fallon brushes a strand of hair behind her ear as she reads the information in front of her. She figures Stiles won’t mind her highlighting certain parts in the book. She takes some time to decorate a page in her notebook for the cause, titling it in cursive, creating three separate columns, and drawing the flower that’s on the first page, wolfsbane, in the four corners. 

She highlights the exact symptoms Scott is experiencing in green, the ones that they’ve got a feeling he’s experiencing, but haven’t fully seen yet in yellow, and the ones they have no clue about in red. She also makes note of them in their own separate column. Her eyes widen as she quickly makes a fourth column and grabs a blue highlighter. She’s now using this to identify and write all the dangers that come with being a werewolf. 

She gets particularly stuck on the blood lust section of the chapter she’s in. During the full moon, a werewolf will be in their most ferocious state, wanting to kill anything and everything in sight if they cannot control their power. She swallows thickly, her hands suddenly becoming clammy at the thought of Scott trying to maul her and Stiles on the full moon. 

“What’ve you found so far?” Stiles asks her gently, sitting down next to her on his bed. He rubs the sleepiness from his eyes before looking at her work. His jaw falls slack. She’s got her entire page filled with notes. From left to right, top to bottom. It’s covered in black ink and the corresponding highlighter colors are the bullet points in each column. “Holy crap,” he mutters. 

Fallon can feel herself getting overwhelmed. She looks at Stiles with overstimulated eyes, “This is crazy, right?” She breathes out shakily as she scans over everything. “There-there’s no way Scott is a werewolf. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense, Sti. It can’t be real.” 

Stiles hushes her before pulling her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her. “I know it’s all a bit much–”

“Understatement of the century,” she quips sarcastically, snuggling into his arms. 

“But you know that this aligns perfectly with everything that’s been going on,” he continues. “I mean, I’m assuming the green column is all the things we’ve seen Scott experience, and that’s the one with the most bullet points in it,” he says, continuing to read the information as he plays with her hair. “It’s all starting to add up, Fall.” 

“I know,” she sounds muffled due to being buried in his shirt. “But that doesn’t mean I want to accept it.” 

“Well, you’re gonna have to,” he tells her. “If we’re gonna break all this to Scott, I’m gonna need your help. The full moon’s tonight, and if this is true, we need to keep him contained. For his safety and everyone else’s.”  

“There’s no way he’s gonna believe us, Stiles,” Fallon sits up, closing the book she didn’t even realize she got most of the way through. “I’m still having a hard time wrapping my head around everything.” 

Suddenly a knock sounds at his bedroom door. Fallon looks at him confused. Noah said he’d be at the station until tomorrow morning. By the apologetic smile on Stiles’ face, she already knows who’s on the other side of the door. 

“Well, now’s the time to finish wrapping it,” Stiles whispers, standing up. He wipes his hands on his jeans nervously before opening the door. 

Fallon can feel her stomach twist in knots as Scott walks into the room. She feels the need to vomit and hide in a far away corner at the same time. How are they going to break it to their best friend that he’s a supernatural creature? That will most likely try to claw someone’s eyes out tonight if they don’t chain him up to a tree within the next couple of hours. 

“You’ve gotta see this, dude,” Stiles gestures for him to come closer to the bed. He silently asks Fallon for her notebook, figuring his explanation will be more put together by using her notes. She nods her head, allowing him to use the overly decorated page. “We’ve been up all night reading. Websites, books. All of this information,” he rambles quickly. 

Scott chuckles, “How much adderall have you had today?” 

“Too much,” Fallon answers, recalling when he popped at least three of the tiny pills in his mouth. 

“That doesn’t matter,” he dismisses the question. “Okay, just listen.” 

“Is this about the body?” Scott continues with his questions. “Did they find out who did it?” He plops down right next to Fallon who side eyes him warily. 

“No, they’re still questioning people, even Derek Hale,” Stiles says, spinning around in his chair. 

“Wait,” Fallon stops him, not remembering him telling her this. “The guy we met in the woods yesterday? Why would they be questioning him?”

“Fallon!” Stiles huffs, waving his hands in the air causing her notebook to crinkle. “Not the point!” The brunette girl closes her mouth, not knowing when it became her out of the group who had a hard time focusing. 

“What is the point then?” Scott looks between them, perplexed by their odd behavior. 

Stiles sighs, looking at Scott with a serious expression. “Remember the joke from the other day?” 

“Yeah…?” Scott glances in between his friends. 

“It’s not a joke anymore,” Fallon adds, pushing the book that was on her lap towards him. 

Scott smiles when he reads the title, clearly thinking they’re joking. Stiles can tell he doesn’t believe, “The wolf. The bite in the woods,” he proceeds with their reasoning. “We started doing all this reading–” he abruptly stands up, coming across an important part in the blue section of Fallon’s notes. “Do you even know why a wolf howls?” 

Scott shakes his head, “Should I?” 

“It’s to signal its location to the rest of the pack,” Fallon tells him. “When a wolf is alone or in distress, it howls so that its family, per say, knows where it is. So if you actually heard a wolf howling that night, that means others could have been nearby. Maybe even a whole pack,” she finishes, fiddling with her fingers anxiously. 

“A whole pack of wolves?” Scott wonders, amazed, not getting the actual point they’re making. 

“No, werewolves,” Stiles corrects. 

That’s when a shift in the dynamics between them changes. Scott’s face falls into an irritated frown as he stands up from the bed. Fallon can sense the annoyance radiating off of him and she doesn’t even need werewolf powers to see it. 

“Are you two seriously wasting my time with this?” He scoffs, grabbing the stuff that he brought with him. “You guys know I’m picking up Allison in an hour.” 

Stiles moves in front of him to stop his escape, “We saw you out on the field today, Scott. Okay, what you did wasn’t just an amazing product of Fallon’s training, all right? It was impossible.” 

Scott shrugs, “Yeah, so I made a good shot.”

Fallon stands up as well, “No, you made an incredible shot,” she counters. “Scott, I couldn’t make a shot like that in my wildest dreams. I mean, the way that you moved, your speed, your reflexes. No matter how hard someone trains, they can’t just manage to do that overnight,” she says. 

Stiles nods his head, “And then there’s the vision and the senses, and don’t even think we didn’t notice that you don’t need your inhaler anymore–”

“Okay!” Scott raises his voice, halting the rambling. “You guys, I can't think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

Stiles stares at him like he’s crazy, “Tomorrow? What? No!” He exclaims. “The full moon’s tonight. Don’t you get it?” 

“What are you guys trying to do?” He glares at them angrily. “I just made first line. I got a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, and everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you both trying to ruin it?” 

“We’re just trying to help,” Fallon says, her own anger rising at his behavior. She doesn’t know whether to be wounded or furious by how he’s treating them. “You have this weird crazy thing going on with you. And it’s not just the moon that's going to cause you to physically change. It’s also when your bloodlust is going to be at its peak,” she tries to convince, but by the look on his face, it’s all falling upon deaf ears. 

“Bloodlust?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods. “Your urge to kill.” 

Scott’s eyes turn dark as he talks through clenched teeth, “I’m already starting to feel an urge to kill, Stiles,” he seethes. 

“You gotta hear this,” Stiles ignores him, still reading from Fallon’s notebook. "The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse. All right? I haven't seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You gotta cancel this date,” he shakes his head, snagging Scott’s phone from the bed. “I’m gonna call her right now.”

“What are you doing?!” Scott whips around trying to regain possession of his phone. 

Fallon clenches her fists, feeling the situation escalating simply by the energy in the room. She wants to tell Stiles to just give his phone back, but they already seem too far down the path to return. She jumps out of the way as Scott practically almost plows through her to get to Stiles.

“I’m canceling the date,” Stiles states obviously, opening Scott’s phone. 

“No, give it to me!” Suddenly Scott is pinning Stiles against the wall, his fist raised as if he’s actually going to strike his friend. Fallon is quick on her feet, charging over to Scott and roughly pulling him off Stiles. 

She shoves him to the ground, “What the hell is wrong with you?” She snaps. 

Scott looks like he just came out of some daze. He struggles getting to his feet, his eyes apologetic. Fallon doesn’t move from her spot in front of Stiles, keeping the boy protectively behind her. “I'm sorry,” he mumbles, grabbing his stuff. “I - I gotta go get ready for that party,” he heads straight for the door, sending them a fleeting glance, “I'm sorry.”

As soon as the door to Stiles’ room shuts, Fallon releases a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. She turns around and can see Stiles visibly shaking. He clears his throat, “You can go home if you want…” he mumbles quietly as he moves to pick up all the papers Scott knocked down. 

Fallon places her hand on his shoulder, stopping him from cleaning anything. She doesn’t say anything, simply wrapping her arms around him. “Are you okay?” She asks him softly. He’s obviously not, but it wouldn’t hurt to hear what’s going through his head. 

“Yeah,” he replies, reciprocating the hug by placing his hands around her waist. “I just know that this is the only explanation, but there’s no way to make him listen. He’s going to kill somebody tonight if we don’t stop him.” 

Fallon looks him in the eyes, “Then I guess that means we have a party to get ready for.”

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     “Lyds, I am not wearing that,” Fallon scoffs as her friend tells her to wear the skimpy red dress she bought her last year for her birthday. Fallon wasn’t necessarily against wearing dresses, but she’d prefer to save them for special occasions. Lydia had gone out of her way last year to buy Fallon the shortest and most revealing red dress she could. While it does look good on her, she doesn’t think wearing it tonight of all nights would be the best decision. 

Lydia sighs through the phone, “But it’s so cute.” Fallon could hear her pout even without seeing her. “And I’ve never seen you actually wear it out.”

“Because if I were to bend over everyone would have a full view of my business,” she laughs loudly, searching her closet for the perfect outfit. She comes across a black lace tank top and lifts an intrigued eyebrow. Lydia furrows her eyebrows as she hears Fallon scuffling across her room, “Did you find something?” 

“Yeah,” she grunts out, trying to pull a pair of light-washed skinny jeans on. “I’ll send a picture, just gimme a sec.” 

She stops herself in front of the mirror, admiring how well the outfit she chose fits her body. The lace top is tucked in tightly to the jeans, hugging her waist perfectly. There’s rips throughout the skinny jeans, one rather high up on her thigh, but it looks good. She smiles at her decision and sends a quick picture to Lydia who squeals loudly into the speaker. 

“Okay, I stand corrected. That is literally perfect,” she compliments. “And if you’re coming on your bike, so hot,” she adds with a high level of praise. “Everyone’s gonna be drooling over you.” 

Fallon laughs, “I sincerely doubt that, but thanks for the confidence boost.” 

Lydia huffs annoyed, “Just shut up and take the compliment. Now, hurry up and get your cute butt over here.” 

As the two girls hang up, Fallon shoots a quick text to Stiles, informing him that she’s on her way. She sticks the device in her pocket before also grabbing her pepper spray and small wallet. She frowns, not wanting a bunch of random bulges in her pockets from the items. She sighs, reluctantly grabbing her license from her wallet and just taking that. She shouldn’t need any money for the evening, so she settles on taking the item that will get her in legal trouble if she doesn’t have it. 

She runs down the stairs, smiling at the small note her dad left her on the table. He’s back at the hospital again until tomorrow morning. She pins it on the fridge, on top of all the other notes he’s left her and walks out the door. 

The ride over to Lydia’s was rather uneventful. Fallon loves riding her motorcycle through Beacon Hills. The quiet scenery is always a nice break from everything. She doesn’t have a problem driving a car, but she’s always preferred her bike for some unknown reason. 

Pulling up to the large home, Fallon is shocked by how loud the music already is. Cars are piled into the driveway, forcing her to park near the ditch. She hangs her helmet on one of the handles, shivering from the slight breeze that hits her. She silently curses herself for not thinking of bringing a coat. 

She walks in and is greeted with a few polite smiles and hellos from the people she knows. Danny is the only one to come and hug her, handing her a red solo cup within the first five seconds. The boy is definitely already on his third or fourth drink. She giggles at his behavior before escorting him back over to his date. 

Fallon maneuvers through the crowd, periodically sipping for the cup as she finds her way through the crowd. She finally makes it outside and isn’t surprised by what she sees. Teens making out and grinding on each other haphazardly, definitely not following the beat to the music. She sighs before beginning her search for Scott and Allison. Her feet carry her around the edge of the pool as she tries to find a good angle to continue looking. She stops at the far corner of the yard by the gate. Her phone buzzes with a text from Stiles, informing her that he’d be there soon. 

She nurses the cup in her hand, drinking it sparingly as she wants to remain as logical as possible. Not that Fallon’s ever been a big drinker. It was just nice to have a little something here and there. 

Her eyes travel to the glistening blue pool. It blows her mind that even with all these people here that there’s still not so much as a leaf or plastic cup floating on its clear surface. The light of the full moon makes it all the more beautiful. Fallon’s always had a fascination with the moon and the power it holds. In all the old folktales she’s read, the different genres of mythology, the moon has always held an important place. It creates balance, an elegance that nothing else can. She sucks in a deep breath, closing her eyes as she basques in the moon's pale glow. 

When she opens them, a thick fog starts to cover the sky above. She tilts her head, still admiring the mystery of it all, the fog only adding to her intrigue. She takes another small sip of her drink before setting it down on the small table next to her. She folds her arms over her body, completely unaware of the moving individual behind her. 

A finger pokes her side, causing her to jump with a small yelp. Carver turns her head and sees Lydia standing there with a smile on her face, “You hungry?” She asks, holding up a small charcuterie plate. 

Fallon shakes her head, “No, I’m good, Lyds. I already ate–”

“Just take the plate,” she begs. “I have to get it away from the lacrosse boys. They don’t understand the delicacies of a good gruyère and prosciutto,” she huffs irritatedly, placing the dish in Fallon’s hand before walking off. Fallon looks down at the plate of meats and cheese, taking a piece of bleu cheese before setting it down on the same table her drink was on. She doesn’t know how she became the designated food scapegoat, but she can’t complain. At least Lydia didn’t force her to go out and dance with Greenberg or something. 

A familiar head of floppy brown hair comes into Fallon’s eyesight and she immediately tenses. She watches as Scott and Allison dance with one another, holding onto each other tightly. She wonders what is taking Stiles so long. She can’t handle a wolfed out Scott on her own. If their theory is even correct. For all they know, they could be absolutely idiots for even thinking this is true. 

“Do you make it a habit of standing alone in corners, or is it just tonight?”

Fallon startles slightly, getting rather tired of people sneaking up on her. She looks behind her and her eyes widen at the sight of Derek Hale. His expression is as stoic as it was when they met, despite the humor behind his question. She stares at him warily, not knowing why he would be wasting his time at a high school party. 

She smirks, “Depends on who’s asking,” she replies, her playful side showing. “Derek, right?” Her eyebrow quirks up.

The man nods in response, keeping his hands shoved in his jean pockets. “I know we’ve only met once, but you don’t really seem like the party type,” Fallon continues, tilting her head at the man. 

“I’m not,” he says dryly. “But I get the feeling you're not exactly here for the experience either.” 

Fallon chuckles, turning her body to fully address him. “What makes you think that?” She asks. 

Derek’s gaze hardens, not amused by her teasing tone. “The fact you’re standing here keeping an eye on Scott rather than mingling with the people who invited you here,” he says curtly. 

Fallon narrows her eyes at him, trying to gauge his intentions. “So what if I’m watching him? What’s it to you?” 

Derek leans in a bit closer, lowering his voice, “You know there’s more going on than what meets the eye. You’ve seen the signs.”

Fallon’s body tenses and her heart begins to race at his insinuation. She rolls her neck from side to side, trying to keep her cool. There’s no way he’s hinting at what she thinks he is. “… I don’t know what I’ve seen,” she admits quietly. “But what I do know is that he’s been acting differently. And I’m here to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” 

Derek looks away from her and towards the party. Kids were clinging onto each other, shoving their tongues into each other's mouths, dancing wildly due to the alcohol's influence. But when he looks at Fallon, she’s calm, grounded. She’s not behaving like the others. This is the exact environment a young woman like her should thrive in. So why is she not having fun?

“You’re not clueless,” Derek states firmly. “It’s more than just him acting differently and you know it. You need to start believing that what you’ve read, what you’ve seen, is real. And it’s dangerous.” 

“Dangerous?” Amusement dances spiritedly in her eyes. “Are you saying the big bad wolf is gonna come huff and puff and blow my house down?”

Derek’s jaw tightens, growing increasingly more irritated at her flippant attitude. “Close enough. And if you’re not careful, you’ll find out just how real it is.” 

“Seems a bit immature for a grown man like yourself to be engaging in such silly theories,” Fallon pushes his buttons, trying to see how far she can go before he snaps. He knows something more about what’s going on with Scott. Or else he wouldn’t be here. 

“It’s not a theory.” 

“Well, if you’re also here to keep an eye on Scott, then what does that make you?” She asks provokingly. “The werewolf police?” She chuckles at her own joke.

Derek rolls his eyes, “I’m someone who knows the truth.” He replies shortly. “And so are you.” 

Fallon’s smirk fades just barely, but she keeps her taunting tone evident. “You’re really mysterious, you know that?” She stares at him with delicate eyes, looking him over with curiosity. “All broody and serious. What’s your deal?” 

There’s a hint of exasperation in Derek’s eyes. She's infuriating. Everything that comes out of her mouth is either a challenge or a joke. But he still can’t help but be fascinated by her. “My deal is keeping people safe,” he says firmly. “And right now, that means making sure you’re not in over your head.” 

Fallon laughs softly, enjoying the feeling of getting under his skin. She takes a chance, poking his arm, “Aw, you care about me? How sweet. But it seems a little soon don’t you think? We did just meet yesterday,” she has a shit-eating grin plastered on her face as he rolls his eyes. 

“Just stay out of trouble.” 

“Maybe trouble should stay away from me,” she argues. Fallon huffs when she notices his expression is still as stiff as it was when he got there. It’s like he only has one emotion. “Are you not having fun? I mean, an adult at a teenage party– fun is why you came, isn’t it? Or were you just looking for cheap alcohol?”

“Why do you ask so many questions?” He glances briefly at her.

“Would you like me to answer that with a question of my own?” She wiggles her eyebrows, feeling victorious as her quick wit continues to serve her well. “I’m just kidding,” she chuckles. “I just like to know things, I guess. Helps me feel in control,” she admits. “Do you always wear the same expression? Or is it possible for you to crack a smile every once and a while?”

“I don’t smile unless I have a reason,” he replies.

Fallon looks at him, faux offense on her face, “And I’m not enough of a reason? Y’know, you could at least pretend to be enjoying my company.” 

“No.” 

“All right,” she nods, lips formed in a tight line. “Point taken.” Her eyes travel back up to the sky, getting lost in the warmth the moon provides her. A moment of silence passes between them, Derek taking notice of her interest in the bright ball in the sky. “I’ve always loved the moon,” she tells him quietly, having just caught him staring at her. “It’s always constant even when you feel like you’re drowning,” she says thoughtfully. 

Derek’s eyes travel upwards as well, the crease in his eyebrows disappearing slightly. His expression is unreadable, “The moon can be a reminder of both strength and vulnerability.” 

She nods her head, her signature smirk returning. Derek internally groans at the sight. “How poetic,” her teeth shine brightly in the pale light. “I have to say, you are full of surprises.” 

A shiver runs down Fallon’s spine, goosebumps forming on her skin. She didn’t even notice how much colder it had gotten out until just now. She wraps her arms around herself trying to preserve some warmth. It’s times like these where she wishes she could find Stiles to steal whatever coat he brought. 

Her eyebrows scrunch up when she feels a blanket of warmth cover her. She glances up, now seeing a black leather jacket encompassing her entire body. Derek stands there in just a tight t-shirt, looking at Scott in the distance, not even addressing the fact he just gave her his jacket. 

“And there’s another one…” she mumbles with a more genuine tone, referencing the amount of surprises this man has stored beneath his icy exterior. 

“You were cold,” Derek shrugs, his voice as gruff as ever. “Don't read into it.” 

“Relax,” she smiles. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

He glances at her with a confused expression, “What secret?” 

“That you actually have a heart beneath all of those walls you put up,” she puts simply. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. I get that the werewolf police have a certain reputation to uphold.” 

Something happens across the way. Fallon can’t see it or sense it for that matter, but Derek can. He can feel Scott getting ready to shift. His eyes travel once more to the shorter girl next to him, “You need to be careful, Fallon,” he cautions. “If anything happens, if you see something you know isn’t normal, you need to get out.” 

She isn’t surprised by him blatantly ignoring her joke, but she can see a new sense of urgency behind his eyes. He has somewhere he needs to go. She nods in understanding, “Got it. Thanks for the warning, Derek.” 

Then he’s gone again without a word, and that’s when Fallon notices Scott and Allison’s absence from the loud party. She mentally curses herself for getting so easily distracted. Even Derek managed to keep up with her and watch Scott at the same time. 

A hand snags her wrist, spinning her around. She comes face to face with an out of breath Stiles. He pants heavily, “W-where– agh, gimme a sec.” He puts his hands on his knees, trying to collect himself. He manages to stand back up, “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Scott, he’s–”

“Turning,” she huffs, running a hand through her hair. “I know. I was watching him, but I got distracted. Where is he now?” 

“Gone,” Stiles looks at her worriedly, both of them not knowing what their friend is capable of. “And we have another problem. Derek took Allison.” 

“What?” She asks in complete shock. How did he manage to do that so quickly? He just walked away from her a few seconds ago. 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods vigorously as he begins to guide her out of the party. “We need to find him. And Allison. And make sure he doesn’t kill anybody. We have a long list of things on our plate for this evening and–” he pauses for a moment, taking in her appearance. 

“Where did you get that jacket?” 

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Stiles and Fallon reluctantly parted ways after he dragged her from the party. The brunette sped off to Allison’s house, hoping that when she got there the Argent girl would be safe and sound in her house. Thankfully, she was. It seems all Derek did was what he said he would do. Give her a ride home. The only reason Fallon could think of why he made such a big deal out of it was to get a rise out of Scott. 

“Shouldn’t you be home?” Allison asks Fallon, handing her a cup of tea that her mother, Victoria Argent, made for them. “It’s late.” 

The two girls get comfy on the couch. Fallon takes a small sip of the hot beverage, “My dad’s working all night so… I don’t really have anything else going on,” she admits. “I just saw Scott kind of storm out of the party and I wanted to make sure you got home okay.” 

Allison smiles at Fallon’s kindness, “You really didn’t have to do that.” 

“Of course I did,” she insists. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t? Besides, it is family night, remember?” She teases, nudging her shoulder.

Allison cringes as she remembers the blatant lie they told to Jackson and Lydia. “Then I ended up going anyway.” 

“We both did,” Fallon reassures. “I don’t think they even remember we lied in the first place. They were just happy we showed up.” 

Allison sets her mug down, the humor from what they just said dying down. There’s a beat of silence, the only sound between them is Fallon tapping the side of the mug with her nails. She glances at Fallon with a serious expression on her face. “So, I know you and Scott are really close and everything and I just–” she exhales, sinking into the couch. “I don’t really know what to do with him,” she says quietly. “I mean, does he always ditch his dates when he’s there ride? Or is that just a new thing he started with me?” She asks with an upset laugh.

Fallon pauses. She should’ve known this would come up. Not that she blames Allison’s curiosity. Scott definitely should not have abandoned her like that, but it’s not as if he could control turning into a killer werewolf. She clutches her mug in her hands, “Well, Scott’s never actually had a date before, so no he doesn’t ditch his dates often,” she says with an awkward chuckle. “But I suppose the answer to your second question would be yes as he’s never had the opportunity to act this dumb with a girl,” Fallon explains. 

Allison looks as if she’s trying to remain angry, but hearing that she’s Scott’s first ever date makes her soften a bit. “He’s really never been on a date?” She asks with genuine affection. 

Fallon shakes her head, “No. He’s never really found someone who interests him in that way. Well, until he met you at least.” 

She didn’t know when she became Scott’s wing woman, but he owes her big time for this. Talking him up to her new girl friend was not on her agenda for the evening. “Am I gonna regret being with him?” Allison turns to face Fallon fully, crossing her legs over each other as she sits on the couch. 

Fallon shrugs, “Probably. But I can promise you that he’s a really great guy. A little dumb and misguided, but he would do anything for you,” she says with a small smile. “Once Scott has taken a liking to someone, he’ll do anything for them. That’s just the kind of guy he is. I can guarantee that he’ll probably be knocking on your door tomorrow morning begging for you to give him a second chance.” 

“Do you think I should?” 

“That’s up to you,” Fallon pats her leg. “While I love Scott with every fiber of my being, you’re my friend too. I’ll support both of you no matter what happens.” 

Allison’s heart warms at her words. She leans forward, pulling Fallon in for a hug. Fallon’s eyes widen, but she accepts the physical affection anyway. “Thank you,” Allison mutters. 

“Alright ladies,” Victoria comes sauntering out of the kitchen with a different assortment of cookies on a tray. She smiles, but there’s something unsettling about it. About her, really. Fallon can’t quite put her finger on it. “I brought some snacks,” she places the small tray on the coffee table before sitting down on one of the lounge chairs near the couch. 

There’s a newfound tension between the three of them. Perhaps it’s because Fallon is new to their home. “Thank you, Mrs. Argent,” the shorter girl nods gratefully. “Again, I’m really sorry about coming by so late. I just wanted to make sure Allison made it home okay after the get together at Lydia’s.” 

“No need to apologize,” Victoria waves off. “It’s nice to see that Allison has made such a good friend so early on.” She takes a sip of her own tea before glancing out the window. She looks slightly shocked before glancing back to Fallon, “Is that motorcycle yours?” 

Fallon tries to decipher if her tone is curious or judgemental. Her consensus is that it’s both. She swallows thickly, “Um, yeah. Yeah, it is.” 

“And your parents are okay with you using that as your vehicle?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Mom!” Allison says warningly, shooting her a scolding look.

“No, it’s okay,” Fallon assures her friend before looking back to her mother. “Well, it’s just my dad and I. My mom passed away a long time ago,” she explains. “He’s not the biggest fan of it, but he knows it makes me happy and that I’m safe when I ride it, so he lets me.” 

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry to hear about your mother,” Victoria frowns. “It must be difficult living without her.” 

Fallon shrugs, “It is. I miss her everyday. But she was a happy person. She would be really angry with my dad and I if we lived our lives just mourning her.” 

“Well, she sounds like a wonderful woman,” Victoria says thoughtfully. 

“She was.” 

There’s a moment of complete quiet between the three. Allison feels terrible for how her mom practically gave Fallon the third degree about her life. She internally groans when noticing her mom getting ready for another round of questions. 

“So,” Victoria clears her throat, “How did you two meet?” 

“At school,” Allison answers. “We have the same English class. She came up to me afterwards and actually tried to help me get out of going to the party we just went to,” she says, both girls laughing at the situation.

Victoria goes to speak but is cut off by their front door opening. An older man, no doubt Allison’s father, trudges through the door. A large gun is slung across his body making Fallon’s eyes bug out of her head. A million thoughts run through her mind as to why he would be returning so late with such a large weapon. 

“Victoria, whose motorcycle is in the front yard?” The man yells before looking up and seeing a complete stranger in his living room. “Oh,” he says, more surprised by her presence than Fallon was by the gun. 

Fallon’s hands begin sweating profusely. She wipes them on her pants before standing up and walking over to him. She smiles with no teeth, trying to hide her nerves. She sticks her hand out, “That would be mine, sir. My name is Fallon Donovan, I’m a friend of Allison’s,” she introduces. 

“Chris,” he shakes her hand. “Allison’s dad.” He nods rather impressed by the young girl in front of him, “Firm handshake, very nice.” He glances over to his wife, “I’m gonna go clean up. It was really nice to meet you, Fallon. Hopefully we can have a better conversation the next time we meet,” he nods, walking away from the three women. 

Fallon walks back over to the couch as Victoria stands up, “I should probably go make sure the sale went well,” she says. “Chris is a licensed arms dealer to law enforcement,” her explanation comes off a bit too naturally, but Fallon doesn’t think too much of it. They’re probably desensitized to how interesting of an occupation that is. “Fallon, why don’t you stay over tonight?” Victoria suggests. “I’m sure Allison would love that, right honey?” 

Her eyes widen, some cookie crumbs covering her lips. She swallows the fudge stripe she no doubt just shoved in her mouth. She nods, “Yeah, yeah that would be cool. If you want?” She glances at Fallon. 

“You know what?” Fallon smiles. “Let’s do it. I’ll just text my dad and let him know I won’t be there in the morning.” 

“Great,” Victoria nods. “Make yourself at home Fallon. Any friend of Allison’s is family to us.” 

As Victoria disappears down the hallway, Allison mumbles something about getting extra blankets for the two of them. Fallon stands from her spot, gathering all of her things to move upstairs with Allison. She shoots her dad a quick text and to her surprise he responds with a thumbs up and heart emoji. She giggles, knowing he must be running between rooms right now. 

Her eyebrows furrow when Scott’s name flashes at the top of her screen. Where are you? His text reads. 

Allison’s house. Nice move btw, leaving her alone at a party. Fallon types back sarcastically. She’s okay, but you better be thinking of some way to make it up to her. 

Wait, you’re at her house?!

Fallon furrows her eyebrows, Yeah… Didn’t Stiles tell you we separated so he could find you and I could check on Allison? 

Is her dad home? Scott asks. 

Yeah. He just got here. Allison yells for Fallon to meet her upstairs. The brunette girl makes way over, still staring at the phone as she begins to climb. Why?

Because he just got done shooting at me in the woods. I don’t think he knows it was me. Just be careful. Don’t tell him what you know.

Fallon’s eyes snap over to the left as she watches Chris emerge from his bedroom. The two of them make eye contact, making a cold sweat break out on her neck. She sends him a tight-lipped smile, trying to make everything seem normal. He nods at her and she responds with a small wave before clambering up the stairs and into Allison’s room. 

It's real. You’re a werewolf? 

Unfortunately.

Second Chance At First Line 1x02

Episode 3

     Fallon waits patiently outside, sitting on the bleachers at the lacrosse field. She was the first one ready so that gave her time to sit and think. Her best friend since the third grade… is a werewolf, and apparently so is Derek. He’s the reason Scott ended up in the woods and found out that Allison’s father is a hunter. 

Her leg bounces up and down as her mind runs at a million miles a minute. She tries to focus on getting ready for practice, but it’s almost as if her entire world has shifted off its axis. The only thing consuming her every waking thought is that she’s actually living some people’s worst nightmares. She can’t even imagine how Scott feels. Trying to live a normal teenage life, only to find out that it’s now impossible to do so. 

Her anxiety is through the roof. She left the Argent’s house after breakfast the day after she slept over, not knowing how to act around the family after what she found out. She didn’t want to make it seem weird, but her abrupt exit might’ve done enough damage for her. Allison had been texting her all weekend since then and all Fallon could do was tell her she thinks she got a stomach bug from the food at Lydia’s. While the brunette wants to become friends with the new girl, there’s a worry in the back of her mind that Allison knows about the supernatural. Fallon’s not sure if there’s a possibility that Allison might be interested in Scott just lure him into a trap. 

A tap on the shoulder pulls Fallon out of her thoughts. She looks up and sees Coach holding two of the longer lacrosse sticks. “Donovan, why don’t you take one of these today, and get your ass out on the field!” He commands, placing the stick in her hands. 

She nods obediently, “Yes, Coach.” 

Her legs carry her out to the grass and that’s when she sees Scott and Stiles running out. Stiles sends her a thumbs up, silently asking if she’s okay. The girl sends him one back, assuring that she’s fine. Once Scott makes it closer to her, she migrates towards him, worried about his mental state after the events of the weekend. 

“You alright?” She asks quietly. 

“You mean after finding out that the girl I like’s dad is trying to kill me?” He replies, sick to his stomach. “Yeah, I’m great.” 

Fallon pats his back, sympathy written all over her face, “I’m sorry, Scotty.”

“Yeah, me too.” 

Coach’s whistle echoes loudly around the field. “Let’s go! One-on-one from up top!” 

Fallon’s partner for one-on-one’s is Danny. She grins at the boy before the red whistle is being blown again. Jackson scoops up the ball for his team and everyone starts to play. They all run around the field, passing the ball to each other and shoulder-checking their opponents as they try to score a goal. Danny grunts as Fallon plows into him, forcing him out of her way as she goes after the ball. Coach follows their movements closely from the sidelines. 

Fallon runs in between Jackson and one of his teammates, intercepting the ball he just barely threw from his elongated stick. She sticks hers up in the air, catching it effortlessly. Jackson’s jaw clenches when Fallon winks in his direction before taking off to her team's goal, scoring the first point of the afternoon. 

“That’s how you do it, Fallon!” Coach praises, “That’s how you do it!” 

After a few more minutes of game play, Coach yells at Greenberg to take a lap around the field for messing up the play. He drops his stick and his helmet, running towards the track with his head hung low. As he’s verbally abusing Greenberg, he instructs the others to get in line for goal practice. Fallon lines up right behind Scott, but she can see his eyes are more focused on something in the distance rather than on the field. 

“Scott, do you hear something?” She whispers. “Like y’know… w–with the werewolf hearing?” 

He shakes his head silently, still staring off into space. At least until Coach catches his attention, “McCall, what are you waiting for? Let’s go!” 

Coach points at Jackson who is blocking for the goalie. Fallon will be blocking for the second half of boy’s at Coach’s behest. The blonde boy looks smug, almost as if he’s  only doing this to show up Scott. The brunette boy clenches his jaw, charging towards Jackson. Fallon and Stiles, who happens to be behind her, wince as Scott is launched to the ground by a harsh shove from Jackson. Coach wastes no time in marching over to him mockingly, not even giving Scott time to stand from the mossy grass. 

“Hey, McCall!” Coach crouches down and Scott grimaces from pain and embarrassment as he struggles to stand up straight. “My-my grandmother can move faster than that-- and she's dead! You think you can move faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother?” 

Fallon and Stiles watch worriedly as Scott’s anger and frustration is what’s keeping him doubled over. They glance at each other, beginning to get ready for a werewolf intervention if needed. The last thing that needs to happen is Scott wolfed out on the field. 

“Yes, Coach,” Scott replies through clenched teeth. 

Coach, still trying to goad Scott into a more competitive mindset, “I can’t hear you!” 

“Yes, Coach,” this time he sounds more than just angry. His hard glare is focused on Jackson who is watching him with a smug smile. 

Irritatedly, Coach Finnstock bends down further, moving his mouth inches from Scott’s ear, “The do it again!” 

Scott’s grip around the lacrosse stick grows impossibly tighter as he runs back in line. Fallon whimpers quietly as his eyes briefly flash gold in her direction. How can one thing be so terrifying yet captivating at the same time. 

“McCall's gonna do it again! McCall's gonna do it again!” 

Jackson gets back to his position just a few feet in front of the goal as Scott returns to the front of the line-up for one-on-ones; though his eyes are no longer glowing gold, he still looks furiously determined. After a moment, Coach blows his whistle to have them start. 

“Let’s go!”

Scott runs at full-speed towards Jackson, much faster than he ran last time. Fallon hears a small snap as the two boys collide with one another. Scott rams his shoulder into Jackson’s collarbone, knocking him flat on his back. He clutches his shoulder in pain and Fallon assumes the snapping sound came from his body. 

The entire team, minus Stiles and Fallon, surround Jackson. The two of them look at each other, completely panic stricken as they rush towards Scott’s side. Everyone seems too distracted by their knocked down captain to notice Scott with bright golden eyes and fangs poking out of his mouth. Scott groans loudly, desperately trying to keep himself from fully turning. He clutches his head tightly. 

“Scott? Scott?” Fallon tries to get him to look at her. “Are you okay?” She gets nothing in response so her and Stiles sling his arms over their shoulders. 

Scott pants heavily, finally finding the strength to talk, “I can’t control it,” he wheezes. “Guys, it’s happening!” 

“What? Right here? Now?”

“No, Stiles, ten years in the future,” Fallon snaps sarcastically. “Yes, obviously it’s happening now. “We gotta get him out of here,” she says.

They start trekking across the field, passing the bleachers to get inside the school. The trio though is too preoccupied with Scott’s current predicament to notice Derek watching them from behind said stands. He has a focused expression as he follows their movements closely. 

All three of the teens pant loudly, carrying Scott’s weight being a lot more than they originally anticipated. They barely make it through the locker room door before setting Scott down. Stiles slides in front of the shifting boy while Fallon crouches down behind him. He’s got support in the back and in the front. 

“Sit down. Sit down,” Stiles coaxes. “You okay?” 

Their friend is practically hyperventilating, clutching the stone bench next to him. Fallon knows they can’t help him if they don’t know what’s going on with him. She moves around to crouch down at his side and places her hand on his bicep, “Scott, talk to us,” she begs.

The sixteen year old werewolf, now completely overwhelmed, finally looks up at his friends and screams at the top of his lungs in a desperate panic. His eyes returning to their golden shade. 

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” 

The shock from Scott’s roar causes both Stiles and Fallon to stumble backwards. The girl's heart is beating out of her chest as she watches Scott start stalking towards Stiles. She barely gives herself a chance to blink before she’s spear tackling Scott into the floor. They crash into a row of lockers causing a loud boom to emanate through the room. 

Stiles yelps before yanking Fallon off of Scott who has now set his sights on her. “Why the hell would you do that?!” Stiles screams as they run to hide behind a row of lockers. 

“To save your dumb ass!” She yells back, throwing her hands in the air. “Thought it was obvious!” 

Both of them screech at the same time as Scott mounts the top of the lockers. Stiles is a tad bit more high pitched than her, but he would never say that. He flails around, trying to grab her wrist as they weave through the already crowded area. Scott continues following after them, his urge to kill unrelenting as he bares his fangs at them. He jumps across the rafters, leaving the duo on the ground with no room to hide as he can see everything from above. 

Stiles protectively throws Fallon behind him as Scott goes to jump down from the high ground. She grunts as her back collides with the fire extinguisher that’s hanging on the wall. A lightbulb goes off in her head as she grabs the tool off its hook. 

“Stiles!” She grabs his attention, handing him the nozzle. He slowly realizes her plan and takes the black end gratefully. Fallon closes her eyes in fear as Scott jumps directly at them, pressing the button to release the carbon dioxide. The white substance shoots out of the nozzle, coating Scott’s body in it. Stiles and Fallon exhale shakily as their friend collapses to the floor, his breathing slowly evening out. They still take cover outside of the room, just in case he still hasn’t turned back. Stiles clutches onto Fallon’s hand, the two of them hoping to hear Scott’s normal voice.

Thankfully, they do. “Fall…? Stiles?” He calls out weakly. 

The two of them relax slightly, willing themselves not to bolt in the other direction. Stiles peeks his head around the door frame to look at Scott, Fallon standing on her tiptoes to look over Stiles’ head. He’s covered in sweat, sitting on the bench with his head in his hands. They squint at him, trying to decipher if his fangs have retracted. 

Scott notices them staring, “What happened?” He asks weakly. 

Both friends are still panting heavily from the chase they just endured. They look at each other, silently deciding to walk in together. Fallon drops the fire extinguisher on the ground as she stares at Scott with an exhausted and exasperated expression. Stiles stays by her side, both of them removing their lacrosse gloves. 

“You tried to kill us,” Stiles tells him seriously. 

Scott’s face fills with immense guilt. Stiles crouches in front of him while Fallon leans on the lockers across the way. They both stare at Scott softly, not wanting him to beat himself up over this. They just want to help him control it. 

“It’s like we tried to tell you before,” Fallon begins. “It’s your anger, your pulse rising. It’s a trigger for all of– that.” She waves her hands towards his body to emphasize her point. 

Scott huffs out a quiet laugh, “But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game, if you hadn't noticed…” 

Fallon’s voice is firm, a lot more firm than the boys are used to. “Well, it’s gonna end up being a lot more violent if you end up slaughtering someone on the field because you don’t know how to control yourself.” She’s not trying to be blunt or rude, but she needs Scott to understand the severity of the situation and how seriously it needs to be taken.

Stiles sighs deeply, looking into Scott’s eyes. “She’s right, dude. You can’t play Saturday. You’re gonna have to get out of the game.”

Scott immediately tries to protest, “But I’m first line–”

“Not anymore.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon sits on her bed, book in her lap as she patiently awaits Stiles’ FaceTime call. Her laptop is open, stuck on the screen of her finished essay. She made sure to get the essay for English done as soon as she could so she didn’t have to worry about it later. Many people make fun of her or ask her how she gets her work done so quickly. Truth be told, it’s not that she’s smart or motivated, she’s just determined to do less work afterwards. Her philosophy is the sooner the work is done, the sooner she can be lazy. 

The moon shines brightly in the sky, casting a comforting shadow into her room. She snuggles under her blanket as she turns the page to chapter twelve of Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone. The candle in her room provides a certain warmth. She loves the smell of cedar wood and spice. It reminds her of the soon to come fall days that she so dearly misses when summer drags on for too long. The brunette finds herself mindlessly folding a certain black leather jacket over her torso. She doesn’t know why, but this has been her go to coat since the day Derek draped it over her shoulders. And he hasn’t creepily stared at her from a distance yet to get it back, so she plans on using it while she can.

It was already ten o’clock. She didn’t realize it had already been two hours since starting her book. She had eaten dinner around six-thirty before cleaning the dishes and setting aside a plate for her dad who still had yet to return from work. She exhales, checking for any messages from Scott or Stiles. 

Nothing. 

She didn’t know how much longer she could wait. Her eyes already started drooping slightly the moment she turned away from the invigorating pages in front of her. That’s when a knock on her door sounds. She glances up and sees a tired looking Michael standing in front of her. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than ever. 

“Hey sweetheart,” he greets groggily. “I’m home.” 

“Hey,” she smiles softly, putting her bookmark in its rightful place before closing it. “How was work?” 

He shrugs, a small yawn erupting from his lips. “It was alright. We had a three car pile up. No fatalities thankfully, but a piece of the windshield did puncture a major artery in one of the victims thighs. So that took up most of my night. But, other than that, it was a regular Monday afternoon,” he explains, his daughter listening tentatively. He always appreciated the fact she cared so much about his work. He didn’t have many people to talk to, so it was nice having Fallon. 

“But you saved her,” she encourages. “Like you always do.” 

“I don’t know about that,” he laughs breathily. “I unfortunately don’t have a perfect surgical record.” 

“You still try,” Fallon argues. “You’re good at what you do dad. You save people. Not many others could do what you do.” 

Michael’s heart warms, “Thanks kiddo. I appreciate that.” 

Fallon nods, noticing he must’ve literally just gotten home. He’s still in the clothes he left in this morning since they have to scrub in at the hospital. “I made taco salad for dinner,” she tells him. “I saved you a plate in the fridge if you're hungry.” 

Michael walks over to his daughter, kissing the top of her head. “You’re the best. Don’t stay up too late,” he points at her. “You still got school in the morning.” 

“I know,” she playfully rolls her eyes. “I’ll go to bed in a minute.” 

“Okay, goodnight,”  He waves. “I love you.” 

“Love you too,” she waves back. Right as her door shuts, the ringtone on her laptop begins to play as Stiles and Scott’s name pop up. She smiles, plugging her earbuds in before accepting the call. 

“What’s up, losers?” She greets, flipping on her stomach to get in a more comfortable position. Stiles smirks when he notices her fuzzy socks peeking out above her head. 

“Nice footwear,” he nods sarcastically. “I didn’t know Cookie Monster changed his occupation to sock model.” 

“Shut up,” Fallon snarls, but self-consciously hides her feet from view. 

Stiles laughs victoriously, shooting his fake nerf gun in the air. Scott exhales, stressed out about everything going on. He doesn’t have the patience to play games. “What’d you find out?” He questions, getting straight to the point.

Stiles sets his toy down, “Well, it’s bad. Jackson’s got a separated shoulder.” 

Fallon winces. While she hates that Jackson can’t seem to get along with her two boys, she didn’t want him to get that injured. She is still kind of friends with the blonde. 

Scott’s face is covered with immense guilt, “Because of me?” 

Stiles scoffs as if Scott’s statement isn’t true, “Because he’s a tool.” 

“But is he gonna play?”

Fallon looks at Scott’s corner of the screen, “I think it would be better for you if he didn’t,” she points out logically. “Seems like you two can’t play together for five minutes without trying to knock each other clear across the field.”

“Well, they don’t know yet,” Stiles cuts in. “Now, they’re just counting on you for Saturday.” 

Scott sighs deeply, shaking his head. He’s conflicted on what to do. He’s always dreamt of being a lacrosse star but he understands where Fallon and Stiles are coming from. He doesn’t want to risk hurting anyone. As they sit in silence, Fallon tilts her head, leaning in closer to her computer. She furrows her eyebrows, swearing that she just saw a shadow in Scott’s room. A big, burly shadow moving in the background. Stiles seems to be doing the same thing, trying to see exactly who or what is behind their friend. 

Scott notices their incessant staring, “What?” He asks them. 

Not wanting to tip off the possible intruder, Stiles begins typing in the messaging feature. A big yellow bubble pops up, It looks like– 

The message cuts off making Scott even more lost, “It looks like what?” 

Fallon watches nervously as both the boys on her screen freeze, which only means that she and Stiles are frozen on Scott’s screen. She bites her bottom lip out of nervousness, tapping a plethora of buttons to get the screen moving again. Once it does, the second half of Stiles’ message sends. 

Someone’s behind you. 

As soon as the text pops up, Scott is yanked from his chair by the looming figure behind him. The young boy is shoved against his bedroom wall angrily making Stiles and Fallon call out for their friend. The laptop falls to the floor with a small crash. They can’t hear anything that’s being said. Only incoherent whispers make their way through the speakers. Fallon turns her volume up all the way, trying to hear any hint on who the furious person could be. 

After a few moments, Scott returns, picking up his laptop. Fallon and Stiles examine his face, trying to see if he’s injured in any sort of way. Scott slumps down in his chair with a shaky breath, “It was Derek,” he reveals, still reeling from the experience. 

Fallon’s eyes widen, “What’d he say?” She asks curiously. “What happened?” 

He runs a frustrated hand over his face, “I can’t play in the game on Saturday.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Fallon puts in her locker combination, opening the metal door with ease. She places her math notebook in her locker, having just finished getting out of the class. She also slides the homework her teacher assigned her in there, not seeing a point in dragging it around with her since she finished it in class. Sometimes she wishes her teachers would provide more challenging material. She and Lydia have to be already two weeks ahead in that class. Not that Lydia told her that. It’s just something Fallon picked up on. Lydia’s extremely smart. It’s almost intimidating. 

Fallon yelps as Stiles smoothly slides his hand into hers before dragging her down a few feet to grab Scott. “What the hell are you doing?” She asks him as he laces their fingers together.

Stiles ignores her before snagging Scott and pushing his two friends against the wall by the stairs. “What?” Scott questions him calmly, despite all of the manhandling. Stiles points upwards where Noah Stilinski and a couple of his deputies are talking to some of the school administrators. 

“Tell me what they’re saying,” he gestures. 

Scott rolls his eyes but nonetheless peeks around the corner. Fallon pushes Stiles away from her, “Why did I have to be involved?” 

“Because I involve you in everything,” he answers obviously. 

“Shhh!” Scott snaps, not able to hear everything over their bickering. 

Fallon pouts, crossing her arms over her chest. She shoots Stiles a nasty glare to which he responds by jabbing her side with his long pointer finger. The two almost start going at it again, but thankfully Scott turns around with a grim expression which stops them. “Curfew because of the body,” he reveals. 

Stiles scoffs in exasperation and smacks Fallon on the arm to emphasize his point. And to also get her back for their altercation a few moments earlier, but that’s not relevant. The girl retaliates quickly, socking his shoulder roughly, causing him to grunt and clutch the sore spot. 

He rolls his eyes when all she does is smile obnoxiously. He shakes his head, “Unbelievable. My dad's out looking for a rabid animal, while the jerk-off who actually killed the girl is just hangin' out, doing whatever he wants.” 

“The jerk-off?” Fallon says unamused. “You mean Derek?” 

Scott speaks up, being the voice of reason for once, “Well, you can’t exactly tell your dad the truth about Derek…”

“I can do something,” Stiles counters with a newfound purpose. 

Like what?” Carver asks, fixing her gaze on the boy with a buzz cut. 

“Like find the other half of the body,” he shrugs before walking in the other direction. 

Fallon and Scott are left stunned by his conviction. She blinks, “Are you kidding?” She calls after the boy. He doesn’t look back and she huffs in frustration, turning back to look at Scott. Unfortunately, his attention is placed further down the hall where Lydia is introducing Allison to Marshall Cole, one of the guys on the lacrosse team. 

Scott’s face contorts with jealousy and Fallon loops her arm through his. She pokes his chest, “Keep your head up,” she encourages. “If you apologized and made it up to her, I wouldn’t worry about it.” She begins walking him over to the dark-haired girl, “Come on, glaring daggers at the guys she’s talking to won’t solve anything.” 

Allison notices them coming and quickly wraps up the conversation she’s having with Marshall. She grins widely at the sight of Fallon and Scott. “Hey,” she immediately hugs the brunette girl. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come over again this weekend after the game to hang out?” She asks. “My dad felt bad for not being able to formally introduce himself so he was wondering if you wanted to come play some board games with us. We’re having tacos,” she wiggles her eyebrows. 

Fallon smiles back, but feels Scott tense at the sound of Allison’s father. She reassures him by rubbing his bicep in a friendly way. “Yeah, I’d love to.” 

“Great!” Allison says excitedly. “We can talk about the rest of the details later.” 

“Fall!” Lydia calls out, summoning her with her freshly painted fingers. “Come on.” 

“I’ll be right there!” She hugs Scott quickly and then moves to kiss Allison on the cheek before chasing after the redhead. 

As soon as Fallon is by her side, Lydia dismisses Marshall like he never even existed in her world. The brunette shakes her head with a chuckle, “You’re really only doing this to get under Scott’s skin?” 

“I’ll stop once he agrees to play on Saturday,” she states matter-of-factly. “Rather simple terms in my opinion, especially since he almost killed my boyfriend.” She applies a new layer of lip gloss before linking her pinky with Fallon’s, “You’re still playing, right?” 

“Yes,” Fallon confirms. “I wouldn’t miss it.” 

“Good,” Lydia hums approvingly. “Then all isn’t completely lost. Just let your little friend know that if he doesn’t play, he doesn’t get the prize,” she threatens, referring to Allison who just stormed away from Scott with an upset look on her face. 

        · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     After school, Stiles rapidly barges into the McCall household, forgoing knocking on the door. Fallon shakes her head as she walks at a normal pace across the house after closing the front door behind her. Melissa doesn’t need her neighbors peeking into her home simply because Stiles didn’t think about shutting the door behind him. 

She stifles a laugh as Stiles manages to trip up the stairs without losing his momentum. It’s a miracle how he hasn’t knocked out any teeth yet. He flings Scott’s room door open and barrels in just as Fallon finishes her journey up the stairs. 

They both walk in to see Scott restringing the net on his lacrosse stick after it appears to be almost ripped in half by something. Stiles breathlessly and manically begins asking Scott question after question. 

“What did you find? How did you find it? Where did you find it?” He spits out like rapid fire. 

Scott, who has been sitting calmly, looks up at Stiles curiously, leading Fallon to answer his un-asked question. “Yes, he’s taken a lot of adderall. I couldn’t stop him. By the time he came to pick me up, he was already vibrating in the driver's seat.”

“I found something at Derek Hale’s,” Scott tells them. 

Stiles gasps excitedly, “Are you kidding? What?” 

Fallon jumps on Scott’s bed, starfishing across the whole mattress as Stiles continues to harass Scott for information. “There's something buried out there. I could smell blood.” 

The brunette girl sits up on her elbows. She stares at him in shock, “Seriously?” She asks with a slack jaw the same time Stiles shouts, “That’s awesome!” 

Fallon slowly turns towards him, shaking her head at his idiocy. Stiles feels slightly self-conscious at her judgemental expression and reconsiders his sentence. “… I mean, that’s terrible. Whose blood?” 

Scott stands from his spot, “I don’t know. But, when we do, your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then, you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing, because there's no way I'm not playing that game.” 

Scott tosses his lacrosse stick on the bed next to Fallon. The girl frowns, “Hold on, how do we even know if Derek did it?” She questions as she follows them down the stairs. They clearly plan on going somewhere and Fallon is only along for the ride. “We can’t just assume he’s the murderer just because you’re mad he told you not to play. Which is some good advice by the way,” she adds, hopping in the back seat of the Jeep while the boys take the front seats. 

Both Stiles and Scott turn comically slow to look back at her. They have identical judgemental looks in their eyes. It makes Fallon shrink in her seat. Stiles gesticulates wildly, “Read the room.” He scoffs. “God. I mean, he smelled blood, Fallon. What else could that mean?” 

“I don’t know,” she shrugs. “He’s half wolf, isn’t he? Maybe it’s the rabbit he ate for dinner.” 

Neither of the boys say anything, deciding not to encourage her terrible humor. Stiles speeds off to the hospital, informing Fallon of what they’re doing on the way. Apparently Scott’s decided to smell the dead corpse of the girl they found to see if it matches the scent he found on Derek’s property. 

Fallon crosses her fingers, hoping that her father isn’t anywhere near the morgue. She doesn’t need him questioning why she and Stiles are just randomly waiting in the hospital. She could say she’s there to see Jackson, but Stiles hates him and Michael knows that. So he wouldn’t believe that for a second. 

They just walked through the two sliding doors, the two boys looking for the correct direction to walk in. Fallon huffs, grabbing both of their arms. “This way,” she grumbles, guiding them past the signs that lead straight to the morgue. After working here in her spare time, Fallon’s become rather accustomed to walking the confusing halls, which Scott and Stiles are now extremely grateful for. 

“Here,” Fallon stops directly in front of the door that leads to the expired bodies. “Be quick. The medical examiner is on lunch so I’d say you’ve got like fifteen minutes.” 

“Okay,” Scott nods. He takes one last look around, making sure no one’s watching them before slowly backing into the door towards the morgue. Fallon and Stiles are left behind as his look-outs. 

“Good luck, I guess…” Stiles trails off, slightly offended Scott didn’t even offer for them to accompany him. 

The two of them walk back to the lobby, not wanting to make their presence obvious. Fallon checks around the corner to make sure Melissa or Michael isn’t there. She sighs, relieved at their lack of presence. Once they make it to the receptionist desk, Fallon goes to take a seat but is stunned when Stiles slaps a hand to her chest, stopping her from going anywhere. 

It’s like the breath has literally been stolen from his lungs. She looks at him as if she wants to kill him for slapping her, but he doesn’t seem to notice her murderous desires. His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water causing Fallon to look in the direction he is. Suddenly his little outburst makes sense. Lydia is sitting less than five feet away from them, most likely waiting to see her boyfriend. With how nervous and excited Stiles is, Fallon’s surprised he doesn’t combust on the spot. He leans all of his body weight on Fallon before groaning.

“Oh my God…” He tries to surreptitiously look at the strawberry blonde, licking his bottom lip. He glances at Fallon, “Should– Do you think I should go talk to her?”

“Absolutely not,” Fallon replies bluntly, trying to pull Stiles to the other side of the room. 

He looks at her, baffled by the response, “Wha– Why not?” He scoffs. “You’re her friend, wouldn’t it be normal for us to go talk to her?”

“You said ‘should you go talk to her’,” the brunette recalls. “Not should we. And even then, I still wouldn’t recommend it.” 

“It’s not like I’m gonna sit there and cut off a lick of her hair,” he defends himself. “I just wanna have a light conversation y’know? Like the weather.” 

“You’re gonna regret it,” she says in a sing-song voice. “And the moment she rejects you, you’re gonna come crawling back to me and I’m gonna have to sit here and listen to you complain for the next two days.” 

“You love it when I complain,” he teases. 

“Correction, I love you so I put up with your complaining.” 

“Then if you love me, you won’t mind me doing this–” Stiles removes his hand from Fallon’s grasp before smoothly sliding into the seat beside Lydia. His best friend groans, tugging the hood to her jacket over her face and taking shelter in a chair a few down from Stiles. She couldn’t completely abandon him. He’d die on his own. So she keeps her face hidden beneath the cotton polyblend and her knees up to her chest. 

“Hey, Lydia... You probably don't remember me. Um, I sit behind you in biology,” Stiles begins awkwardly.

“Oh dear God,” Fallon mumbles, face turning bright red from second hand embarrassment.

Lydia makes a confused face, but doesn’t say anything which encourages him to keep talking. “Uh, anyway, I always thought that we just had this kind of connection.” Lydia makes a face as though this surprises her, which gives Stiles the motivation he needs to continue. “Unspoken, of course. Maybe it'd be kind of cool to... get to know each other a little better…”

All of the sudden, it becomes obvious that Lydia has been on a phone call using a Bluetooth headset this entire time and hasn't been listening– her facial expressions were in response to the phone conversation. Fallon stares at Stiles, wanting to go over to him and pull him away from the situation. She might complain about his complaining, but he’s right. If he needed her to, she’d sit there for hours and listen to him drone on about his heartbreak. That’s just what they do.

“Hold on, gimme a second,” Lydia says to the individual she’s on the phone with. She puts the person on hold before turning her attention to Stiles. “Yeah, I didn’t get anything you just said. Is it worth repeating?” 

Stiles, visibly embarrassed and feeling awkward, tries to get out of this situation by chuckling nervously and going to sit down directly next to Fallon. “No. Sorry, I’ll just sit…” He collapses into the uncomfortable cushion, a defeated look on his face.

Fallon slowly puts her knees down and Stiles huffs, “Alright, you can say it. You told me so and I should’ve listened to you,” he says rather snappy. 

Instead of saying anything, Fallon simply lays her head on his shoulder, looping her arm under his to connect their hands. The left side of Stiles’ body warms at the feeling and he stares at her, a bit surprised. She squeezes his bicep, “I’m sorry, Sti.” 

He tries to act unbothered by waving it off, but she can see the weight it has on him. He snuggles closer to her, laying his head on top of hers. This is as much solace as he’ll be able to get. “It’s okay. Thanks for not rubbing it in.” 

“I might be an ass, but I’m not a complete jerk,” Fallon half smiles. “I am proud that you lasted more than two minutes though. Even though she wasn’t paying attention to anything you said.” 

“You win some you lose some,” he shrugs with a sigh. “And I’ve lost all of them.” 

Scott then finally makes his way around the corner, having escaped the morgue without anyone detecting him. He notices Stiles and Fallon having a quiet conversation and raises an eyebrow at the fact they’re not bickering. He was sure one of them would be in a headlock by the time he got back out. He almost doesn’t want to disturb the scene in front of him, but they don’t exactly have unlimited time. 

He quickly walks over to them, causing the duo to stand up, redirecting their attention to him. “The scent was the same,” he tells them, not even trying to sugar-coat it.

Fallon looks down. There’s no way Derek is a killer. A creep, sure. But he doesn’t seem like a murderer. She glances at Scott, “You’re sure?” 

He nods, “Yes.” 

“So, he did bury the other half of the body on his property?” Stiles scoffs, shaking his head. 

“Which means we have proof that he killed the girl.” 

“Okay, but do we really think it’s a good idea to just blindly accuse the guy? I mean, Scotty, what if your sniffer is off or something? We don’t exactly know how this whole werewolf scent thing works,” Fallon says. 

“I know what I smelled,” Scott assures her. “It’s not just similar, it’s the exact same.” 

Stiles begins walking towards the exit, “We have the evidence we need to put him away. I say we use it.” 

Scott furrows his eyebrows, “How?” 

Stiles sighs and stops, turning to face his two friends. He sends them a serious expression to make sure what they’re about to do is for the right reasons. “Tell me something first–” he focuses on Scott. “Are you doing this because you want to stop Derek, or because you want to play in the game and he said you couldn't?” 

Though it's clear by the look on Scott's face that both of the offered options are true, he goes with the first one to appease Stiles and Fallon who are staring at him expectantly. “There are bite marks on the legs, guys– bite marks.” 

The two of them aren’t fully convinced, but the thought of that poor girl getting ripped apart overpowers their suspicions of Scott’s true priorities. “Okay,” Stiles nods. “Then we’re gonna need a shovel… Or three.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     Night has officially fallen over Beacon Hills, causing an eerie feeling to creep up Fallon’s spine as they wait for Derek to leave the burnt up Hale house. She nervously bites her nails while simultaneously tugging on the sleeves of her hoodie. Stiles and Scott are quietly conversing up front, careful not to make too much noise just in case Derek can pick up on their presence. 

After a few more moments, Derek, who is in a tight white t-shirt and separate black leather jacket from the one he gave Fallon. He opens the door of his slick black Camaro and jumps in, starting the engine before driving off the property. She doesn’t know if this classifies as stalking, but watching him from a distance in the dark, waiting for him to leave his house seems pretty criminal to her. 

As soon as Derek is far enough away, Stiles immediately pulls his Jeep closer to the house. He parks with a little too much excitement to be looking for a dead body. Scott hops out of his side before opening the door for Fallon, helping her out of the car. She shoots him a tight-lipped smile, grabbing her own shovel and flashlight. 

They meet Stiles at the front of the Jeep before venturing off to the side of the house where the recently overturned patch of earth is located. Fallon waves her flashlight around the area, trying to make sure no other creatures of the night have the opportunity to pounce on them. 

Scott sticks his nose in the air, “Wait, something’s different.” 

“Different how?” Stiles asks, voice uneasy. 

“I don’t know…” Scott trails off unsurely. 

The three of them finally reach the supposed gravesite and Fallon aims her shovel towards the ground. “Let’s just get this over with,” she says, trying to hold back the bile threatening to rise up her throat. “Before I decide to bury one of you instead.”

She jams the head of her shovel into the ground, stomping the spade-end with her foot to push it in further before scooping up some dirt and throwing it aside. The boys follow her lead, both sharing a scared look at her empty threat. They know she wouldn’t do it, but it still doesn’t make her any less scary. 

The three of them work in silence for several minutes, the only sound being heard is their heavy breathing and the different birds singing in the distance. Fallon wipes a bead of sweat off her forehead, wishing that she was in the comfort of her own bed by now. Getting up for school is going to be a challenge tomorrow. 

“This is taking way too long,” Scott speaks up nervously, pausing his digging to voice his concerns. 

Stiles rolls his eyes, not deterring from his quick pace, “Just keep going.” 

Fallon stops as well, understanding Scott’s worries. “He’s right. What if Derek comes back and we’re sitting here digging a six foot grave in his backyard? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but he’s kind of intimidating.” 

“Okay, first of all, Derek’s the one who already dug the six foot grave when he put the body down here. We’re just digging it back up. Second of all, since when are you intimidated by anyone?” Stiles scoffs, chucking more dirt to the side.

“Since he’s a six foot tall werewolf who could probably crush my windpipe with his index finger,” she quips back without missing a beat. 

Stiles shrugs nonchalantly making Scott and Fallon look at him exasperatedly. Stiles groans, “Look, if he comes back, we’ll just get the hell out of here,” he answers as if it’s just that simple.

“What if he catches us?” Scott continues to question him as they resume digging. 

“I have a plan for that.” 

Fallon raises her brows, “Which is what exactly?” 

Stiles stops his movements, leading his friends to do the exact same. He stares at them both with a straight face, “You run one way, Fallon runs over there, and I run that way. Whoever he catches first? Too bad.” He shrugs once again like it’s no big deal and gets back to the task at hand. Fallon grumbles lowly, threatening to hit him on the back of the head with her shovel if it comes to it. 

“I hate that plan,” Scott huffs. 

Scott dumps another scoop of dirt to the side and is about to dig in again when Fallon's shovel hits something solid, causing Stiles to raise his left hand and hold it out in front of Scott to keep him from moving. “Oh, stop, stop, stop.” He flails around, trying to prevent any more movement. 

Fallon’s throat drops into her stomach. Her heart has to be beating at a million miles per second. This could be a literal dead body. When they all look down, they see several twine rope strings poking out of the earth, and the three of them kneel down so they can brush the dirt away with their bare hands. They eventually uncover what looks like a bundle of rough fabric, like burlap, which has been tied closed with the twine rope. Stiles starts to try to untie the bindings, while Scott and Fallon sit still because they are still on edge with fear that Derek is going to come back and catch them. 

Impatiently, Scott tries to urge Stiles on, “Hurry!” He commands. 

“I’m trying,” Stiles responds, irritated by Scott’s nerves. “Did he have to tie the thing in, like, nine-hundred knots?” He curses Derek’s existence through the sardonic question. 

“I’ll do it,” Fallon snaps, gripping the rope with her own hands. Scott also reaches down to help. Stiles is on the far right end, Scott on the left, while Fallon works in the middle. After a long moment, they manage to get it all unknotted, and they open the bundle to find what looks like a severed head of a black wolf. This scares the teens so badly that they all scream loudly and leap out of the grave, Stiles and Scott land on their butts while Fallon lands on her back. They get up as fast as they can, trying to scurry away from the half of the wolf corpse. In the foreground, a flowering plant with purple petals is sprouting out of the ground. Fallon’s eyes are drawn to the gorgeous flower. Its color glowing in the pale moonlight. She fights the urge to touch it as Stiles’ voice pulls her out of her thoughts. 

“What the hell is that?” He exclaims loudly. 

“It’s a wolf,” Scott answers.

“Yeah, I think we can see that,” Fallon says sarcastically. She looks over at Scott, “You told us you could smell blood. Human blood. And that it matched the girl at the morgue. This,” she points to the dead wolf, “doesn’t look like it matches her, let alone any human for that matter.” 

Scott shrugs before throwing his hands up, not knowing what else to say. “I told you guys something was different.”

Stiles, completely dumbfounded, throws his hands up incredulously. “This doesn’t make sense.” 

“Okay, we really gotta get out of here,” Fallon says urgently. She can’t explain it, but she can’t help feeling that Derek is going to return any minute. 

“Yeah,” Stiles breathes out. “Okay, help me cover this up.” 

Stiles moves to start pushing the dirt back into the grave with his hands, Scott and Fallon following suit. The brunette girl cringes when looking at the dead wolf body below her. The poor thing. She’s just curious as to why Derek buried it in the first place. 

Stiles’ movements suddenly stop causing Fallon to look at him weirdly. She follows his line of vision back to the purple plant she was looking at a few moments prior. “What’s wrong?” She asks him. “Is there something up with the flower?” 

Scott furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “Why would there be something wrong with a flower?” 

“I think it’s wolfsbane,” Stiles reveals cautiously. “So it’s not necessarily what’s wrong with it, but what could be wrong with what it does.” 

Their werewolf friend frowns, “What does that even mean?”

Fallon picks up on what Stiles is putting down. She remembers reading about wolfsbane in the book she did her research in at Stiles’ house. Freckles scoffs at Scott’s blatant ignorance to his situation, “Uh, haven’t you ever seen The Wolf Man?” 

Scott shakes his head, “No.”

“Lon Chaney, Junior? Claude Rains?” He spits out the actors names, trying to jog any sort of memory out of Scott. 

Scott denies ever seeing the movies once more, but more impatiently this time. Stiles grows even more exasperated as Fallon watches with amusement. “The original, classic Werewolf movie?” 

Growing tired of the incessant questioning, Scott sighs loudly. Not wanting anyone to start yelling, Fallon puts her hand on Stiles’ arm, “I think it’s safe to say he hasn’t seen it,” she tells him. 

Stiles makes an almost disgusted face when looking at Scott. The boy across from him loses his patience, “What?!”

Stiles scoffs, completely appalled by Scott’s lack of knowledge in classic films. “You are so unprepared for this.” He pushes himself up to his feet, walking over to the flower. “I try to invite you to movie nights with Fallon and I, but no, you never come. Which is why we know what’s going on and you don’t.” He takes a hold of the purple flower, pulling the entire thing up by its roots. They all gasp when seeing that the base of the plant has more of the twine rope tied around it, which is also buried underground. Fallon and Scott watch as he gently continues pulling the twine out of the ground in a spiral. She honestly doesn’t believe it’s going to end with how many circles he’s made and how much of the rope is spilling out of his hands. 

There are randomly placed wolfsbane petals attached at various points along the length of it, only to find it is connected to the bundle of burlap around the wolf's head. Scott and Fallon look at Stiles with a skeptical expression, confused as to why they're wasting their time with this, when suddenly, they look down and are startled back onto their feet by what he finds in the grave.

Fallon covers her mouth to prevent the shriek that threatens to escape her lips. She immediately clutches onto Scott, her lip quivering as she glances over to Stiles who still has no idea. “Sti…” she whispers, her voice trembling.

Stiles turns around, alarmed by her sudden change in demeanor. He sees her and Scott staring into the grave with nothing but shock and horror written on their faces. He walks over to where they are so he can see from their vantage point. When he follows their line of sight, a loud yelp leaves his mouth as he jumps backwards. He clings onto Scott and Fallon, trying to steady himself. 

“Oh!” 

Where there once was a half dead wolf, now lays the top part of a human female body. The same body they went searching for just mere nights ago. She stared up into the sky, lips parted as if she’s silently screaming for help. Fallon feels the need to do the same as the woman’s lifeless eyes bore holes into her soul. 

“Leave. Now. Please?” Fallon taps Scott’s arm repeatedly, unable to form full sentences. He nods his head and the three of them run over to the Jeep, getting as far away from the scene as possible.

She couldn’t believe it. There’s no way Derek Hale could be a murderer. Could he?

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     The following morning, Stiles was quick to barge into Fallon’s room, not bothering to knock on her house or room door. Her father must’ve already been at work or Stiles would not have been able to come in so easily. Michael would’ve already tried to feed him breakfast and ask him his plans for the day before he could even reach the stairs that led to Fallon’s room. 

She groans loudly as he jumps on top of her, repeatedly telling her to get up and get dressed. Reluctantly, she throws her warm covers off of her body, but not before smacking Stiles upside the head, eliciting a string of complaints from the boy. She smiles cockily before moving to get ready for whatever adventure he’s dragging her out to. 

“Scott’s already in the car, so hurry up.” 

And that she did. She threw on a navy blue turtleneck and black jeans, tucking her shirt in. She puts her hair up into a quick ponytail and brushes her teeth. She doesn’t bother grabbing food or anything else, figuring she could force the boys to treat her to breakfast after breaking into her house and forcing her to leave. 

It's not long before Stiles pulls up to the Hale house property which is now surrounded with Sheriff's deputies and many other on duty cops. Fallon scoffs, “Okay, you did not tell me we were coming back here.” 

“You didn’t ask,” Stiles shrugs. “Now come on,” he only grabs Fallon’s arm, forcing Scott to stay by the jeep to be the lookout. No doubt some form of payback after the morgue incident. 

He guides them to the side of the house, hiding them from plain sight. She smacks his arm, “You owe me pancakes after this,” she growls. “At this rate, we’re gonna be the ones in the back of that cop car, not Derek.” 

Right as she says this, Derek gets marched out of the house in handcuffs by one of the Beacon County deputies. Derek looks over at Scott with a scowl that causes the young boy to look down at the ground with an expression of mixed guilt and shame as Derek is pushed into the back of a deputy's cruiser. 

“You have no idea how true that statement actually is,” Stiles retorts before once again dragging her across the front yard. Her eyes widen when she realizes that they’re approaching the exact cruiser Derek was just put in. 

She shakes her head, trying to rip her wrist from his grip, “Sti– Stiles, no! Let me go! Sto– Stiles!” 

She struggles but ultimately gives up as he slides into the front seat, forcing her to guard the window so no one could see him talking to Derek. The window is slightly cracked so she puts her face as close as possible to mutter, “I am going to murder you the second you step out of this car.” 

The boy swallows thickly at the deadly look in her eyes. Derek’s own gaze flickers between the two, an ungodly annoyance filling his system at the sight of Stiles. But there’s a hint of amusement behind his eyes when he hears Fallon’s words. 

“She’s telling the truth,” Derek reveals, causing Stiles to jump. 

“Yeah, I know,” he mutters, shuffling away from the door. Fallon sends him one last withering glare before turning around and doing what he wanted in the first place. 

“I really need to stop enabling his behavior,” she grumbles. 

Stiles turns around so he can face Derek fully. He places his face close to the cage that separates the front seat from the back. Fallon can hear how nervous he is just by his rambling. Her threat to his life probably didn’t make this confrontation any easier. 

“Okay, just so you know, I'm not afraid of you.” Derek's head is tilted down, but his eyes move up to look at Stiles through his eyelashes with a scowl that immediately terrifies Stiles. “…Okay, maybe I am. Doesn’t matter. I just wanna know something.” He shifts nervously in his seat making Fallon tap impatiently on the glass, signaling for him to start wrapping things up as the cops are starting to head to their cars. “The girl you killed? She was a werewolf.” 

No response. Derek’s scowl remains in place, his glare only becoming more heated the longer Stiles continues. “She was a different kind, wasn't she? I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can't do that. Is that why you killed her?”

Derek finally decides to speak, his tone is understandably irritated given the current situation. Fallon would smack Stiles if she could reach him. “Why are you so worried about me, when it's your guys’ friend who’s the problem?” There’s a small pause and Fallon hears a bit of movement which she assumes is coming from Derek. “When he shifts on the field, what do you think they’re gonna do, huh? Just keep cheering him on?” 

“I can’t stop him from playing, but you can…” Fallon isn’t able to hear the rest of Derek’s sentence as Sheriff Stilinski approaches her with a knowing yet disappointed smile.

“Fallon,” he greets fondly.

“Sheriff,” she replies with her own nervous smile. Her tone is sickly sweet, trying to deter any suspicions from Stiles who is only hidden by the fact she’s leaning on the window. “Uhm, how’s your shift been? Long I’m assuming, y’know… ‘cause all the murder and stuff.” She was unsure of how to proceed, deducing by the look on his face that he knows Stiles is directly behind her.

He sighs before looking between Scott and his own son, “You know they’re just dragging you down right?” He tells her with a serious expression. “You’ve got so much potential. Don’t let those two idiots ruin it,” he practically begs her. 

Fallon exhales before stepping out of his way, “I think we’re already past that point,” she replies glumly watching as the man yanks his son out of the cruiser. 

Noah drags Stiles off to the side as far away from Derek as possible, leaving Fallon by herself next to the soon-to-be person of interest. She goes to walk away, but Derek’s voice stops her. “You need to help your friend.” She looks back at him and then to Stiles. Derek rolls his eyes, “Not that one. Scott,” he clarifies. She nods in understanding, moving closer to the window. She crouches down to eye level, their faces a bit too close, but it’s for discretion. “Out of the three of you, you seem to be the one with the brain. So do the smart thing and find a way to help him.”

“I’ve been trying,” Fallon says honestly. “He doesn’t exactly listen to me. I’m not a werewolf expert. I don’t really know how to help.” 

“Just keep him from playing on Saturday,” he commands her. 

She nods understandingly, “I can try to convince Coach,” she says. “But I can’t promise he’ll go for it.” 

“I don’t care what you have to do,” Derek shrugs. “If you don’t want to see someone dead on that field, keep him away from the game.” 

“Okay,” Fallon agrees. A moment of silence passes between them. Derek just stares at her expectantly, waiting for her to do something. She fidgets with her fingers before voicing her thoughts, “And for the record, I don’t actually think you killed anyone,” she admits meekly. 

Derek’s face contorts into surprise for a fleeting second. He covers it up by just raising his eyebrows, “And how can you be so sure?” He asks, trying to keep his intimidating facade up. 

“I just have a feeling about you,” Fallon says honestly. “You don’t really strike me as the murderer type,” she smiles slightly. “Despite the big brooding man thing you have going on.” 

“You’d be surprised to find out what people are capable of.” 

“Well, if you’d like to inform me more on people,” she emphasizes the last word to show that she’s referring to just him. “My bedroom window is on the left side of my house, second story. Y’know since apparently you have a thing for sneaking into people’s rooms,” she teases, bringing up what he did at Scott’s. 

Derek has no words. His frown is still plastered on his face as he stares at the girl who he can only describe as an enigma. It’s baffling how she can go from timid and shy to confident and bold within seconds. She doesn’t wait for him to respond, walking over to where both of the Stilinski men are. 

“So, you lied to me,” Sheriff crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at his son. 

Fallon freezes in her spot, suddenly feeling very awkward. Stiles is quick to pull her next to him, needing a physical representation of someone who is on his side. Which she is, unless Noah gives her his disappointed dad look. Then she’ll abandon her best friend in a heartbeat. 

Stiles awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, “Well, that depends on how you define lying…”

Sheriff Stilinski is quickly running out of patience, “Well, I define it as ‘not telling the truth.’ How do you define it?” He says sassily.

“Um… ‘reclining your body in a… horizontal… position?” The way he phrases it makes his statement sound more like a question. But Fallon has to admit, he’s not wrong. She covers her mouth politely to cover the small giggles leaving her lips. 

Sheriff just waves his hand in the air, completely over his son’s antics. “Get the hell out of here.” 

Eager to get out of the tense situation, Stiles grips Fallon’s hand before darting back over to the jeep, “Absolutely.” 

“Bye Sheriff!” Fallon waves. 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     “I really don’t understand why I’m always in the back seat,” Fallon complains as Stiles speeds out of the woods. “Why can’t Scott and I switch every once and a while?” 

“Because, you were the newbie in this friendship, remember? The OG’s get the front. You’re like Scott and I’s adopted child that we picked up from the side of the road,” Stiles explains. “Abandoned and in desperate need of attention.” 

“I’ve been friends with you both for seven years,” she deapans. “And if anyone is desperate for attention Stiles, it’s you.” 

The muscle in Stiles’ jaw ticks before aggressively pointing back at her without tearing his eyes from the road. “And you’re mean. Did I mention that? You’re mean. That’s why you sit in the back. So I’m not forced to throat punch you.”  

Fallon rolls her eyes, sinking into her seat. He’s not wrong, hence why she can’t come up with an argument against it. Scott sighs, his head pushed against the window of the jeep. He throws his phone down in his lap, “I can’t find anything about wolfsbane being used for burial.” 

“Just keep looking,” Stiles encourages. “Maybe it’s like a ritual or something? Like, maybe they bury you as a wolf,” he suggests, trying to come up with his own explanation for what they found. 

“It could also be a special skill or something,” Fallon chimes in, leaning forward. “Like something a werewolf has to learn how to do.” 

Scott rolls his eyes, getting overwhelmed with all the werewolf business. He grits his teeth before muttering under his breath, “I’ll put it on my ‘To Do List’ right underneath ‘figuring out how the hell I’m playing in this game tonight.’”

The more Scott speaks, the breathier he becomes. Fallon notices him wincing slightly with every movement. She furrows her eyebrows, placing her hand on his shoulder. He tenses under touch which never happens. The brunette goes to ask if he’s okay but is stopped by Stiles speaking. “Maybe it’s different for girl werewolves…” he proposes, still distracted by his own hypothesis. 

Scott’s irritation has seemed to reach an all time high. He loses his patience entirely and snaps at Stiles, “Okay, stop it!” 

Stiles frowns in confusion, “Stop what?” 

“Stop saying werewolves! Stop enjoying this so much!” Scott yells loudly, ripping his shoulder from Fallon’s hand. 

Neither Fallon or Stiles knows what caused this sudden change in behavior. He was calm before they got in the car. “I don’t think any of us enjoy trying to keep you from killing someone,” Fallon mumbles. 

Stiles however looks at his friend with concern, “Are you okay?” 

“No!” Scott’s tone shifts to a much darker aggravation making both Stiles and Fallon share a wary glance. Scott out of nowhere doubles over in his seat as if he’s in excruciating pain. “No, I’m not! I’m so far from being okay!” 

The werewolf begins to hyperventilate, clutching at his own chest. Stiles gets an idea as to what this sudden outburst could be about so he goes to reassure Scott, “You know, you’re going to have to accept this, Scott. Sooner or later. 

“I can’t,” Scott’s face contorts with pain as he writhes wildly in his seat. 

“Well, you’re gonna have to,” Stiles scoffs.

“No!” Scott shakes his head, correcting him. “I can’t breathe…”

Fallon surges forward, her overprotective instincts kicking in. “Why? Are you having a panic attack? Asthma attack? Do you need me to get your inhaler?” Scott simply shakes his head at all of her questions. She genuinely doesn’t know what could be wrong with him. She hasn’t seen him struggle to breathe like this any other time. 

“AHH!” Scott screams, making both of his friends flinch as he pounds his hand against the roof of the jeep. There is definitely strong werewolf undertones in his voice as it deepens multiple octaves. “AHH! Pull over!” He commands.

Stiles, who is completely alarmed, swerves the car out of shock. The sudden jerk makes Scott grimace in even more pain. He faces Scott fully, trying to figure out how to help. “Why? What’s happening?” 

Scott instinctively opens the backpack between them and is horrified to see that the wolfsbane plant and the rope with the flowers attached to it are inside. He looks at Stiles incredulously, “You kept it?” He seethes.

Stiles starts freaking out as well, not knowing how to handle the stressful situation. “What was I supposed to do with it?” He yells back.

“Leave it at the crime scene!” Fallon screams, obviously.

The close proximity with the poisonous plant only makes Scott sicker as time goes on. He forces his hands into fists, his claws starting to pierce the skin of his hand. He’s about to shift. “Stop the car!” 

Both Fallon and Stiles are petrified as Scott’s eyes turn into a golden yellow. Fallon slaps her human friend's arm, “Pull over!” She begs him. 

“Okay!” He exclaims, pulling the car off to the side, slamming on the brakes as he does so. As soon as the car is in park, Stiles grabs his backpack and throws himself sloppily out of the Jeep, running toward the edge of the woods. He uses what little strength he has to toss the bag as far as he can to get as much distance between it and Scott as possible. Once it's out of eyesight, Stiles throws his head back and sighs deeply before turning back toward the Jeep.

“Okay, we’re good, you can–”

He looks up and is completely horrified to see only Fallon sitting in his Jeep, her face a pale white. She looks at him, the only emotion evident on her face is concern. “He’s gone…”

Stiles wastes no time before clambering into his jeep and slamming the door shut. He allows Fallon time to jump over the center console, joining him in the front. She buckles the seatbelt in the passenger seat as he immediately takes off from his parked position. 

“We need to find him,” Fallon looks at the side of his face. “Before he tries to have an early dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles fumbles around in his pocket for his phone. Once he gets a grip on it, he hands it to Fallon. “Dial the number for the Sheriff’s station. If he’s done any serious damage they would’ve gotten a call by now.” 

She nods her head, fingers shaking as she looks for the number in Stiles’ contacts. She presses the button, putting it on speaker for him to talk to whichever dispatcher answers. As soon as the woman hears his voice, she’s immediately annoyed with the first sentence that escapes his mouth. 

“Stiles, you know you can’t call the dispatch line when I’m on duty,” she says from the other side of the phone. 

Stiles huffs loudly, “I just need to know if you’ve gotten any odd calls…?”

“Odd how?” 

“Uh, like, an odd person, or…” Stiles struggles to come up with an example that doesn't sound like he's trying to find out if anyone has seen a Werewolf running through Beacon Hills. “A dog-like individual roaming the streets…?”

“That happens to look oddly similar to Scott,” Fallon suggests to the dispatcher. “Just a tad more facial hair that he’ll never be able to have.” 

The dispatcher runs out of patience for the two, putting an end to their conversation. “I’m hanging up on you now.” 

“No! Wai-wai-wai-wai-wait!” 

“Goodbye,” and with that the line goes dead. 

Fallon watches as Stiles clenches his fists around the steering wheel, hitting it out of frustration “Damn it!” He exclaims. 

“Hey,” Fallon stops him, grabbing one of his hands. She rubs a finger over his bright red knuckles. “We’ll find him, Sti. He’ll be okay.” 

The boy sighs, allowing her to calm him down. “Let’s just hope it’s before we find another dead body.” 

         · · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

     The nighttime air is crisp, sending a comforting chill down Fallon’s back as she sits on the bench with Danny, retying her shoelaces before going out onto the field. It's finally game night. The brunette is slightly nervous watching Scott and Stiles walk out to join the rest of the team. Luckily, Scott hadn’t tried to kill anyone on his latest rampage around town. He apparently just ended up jumping onto Chris Argent’s car after creepily staring at Allison through her window. 

“You okay?” Danny nudges her shoulder. “You look upset or something.” 

She shakes her head with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, “Yeah, I’m good. Just super excited to play,” she tries to convince.

By the look on his face, he doesn’t buy it in the slightest. “You know you can talk to me, right?” He reminds her. “I know you classify those two as your best friends,” he points to Scott and Stiles, “but you still got me if you ever need a break from… whatever that is.” She follows his gaze, grimacing as Stiles continuously berates Scott. 

For a moment, a genuine smile takes over her face. She nods in appreciation, “Thanks, Danny. I appreciate it.” 

“Of course,” he pats her back affectionately before standing up and walking over to the goal. 

Fallon takes her own leave, standing up and traveling over to Scott and Stiles who have just joined the rest of the team on the sidelines. The bleachers are full of spectators excited for the Beacon Hills Cyclones' first real game of the season, and both teams are milling around on their respective sidelines as the referee gets in position on the field. She smiles when she notices Melissa and her dad sitting next to each other on the bleachers, engaged in what must be a very entertaining conversation. 

Allison and her father also enter the stands, the former waving enthusiastically at Fallon, holding her popcorn in her other hand. Chris smiles and nods at the girl as well, making Fallon’s nerves skyrocket as she pictures him with an automatic rifle in his hand. Then she remembers she’s going home with them after the game, her overnight bag shoved inside her gym locker. 

“Scott!” Lydia’s voice rings out causing the trio to look in the direction she’s coming from. There’s a certain confidence in her step, a plethora of threats no doubt about to leave her lips as she grips the boy by the collar of his jersey. 

Fallon watches as a jealous expression takes over Stiles’ face. She takes a step forward, leaning into his side. “Down boy,” she whispers. He bites the inside of his cheek but simply wraps his arm around Fallon, pretending the sight doesn’t irritate the living hell out of him. 

“I just want you to remember one thing for tonight…” 

Obviously uncomfortable by Lydia's close proximity and aggressive tone of voice, Scott looks down at her hand, which is still gripping his jersey, and responds nervously, “Uh... w-winning isn't everything?” 

Lydia chuckles sarcastically before letting go of his jersey and smoothing out the wrinkles, straightening his shirt sleeves before answering him. “Nobody likes a loser.” She patronizingly pats his chest before turning to take her seat with Allison and her father. 

Scott shakes his head from the encounter, going to sit down with Fallon and Stiles. He blows out a puff of air, “She’s scary,” he tells them, eyes blown wide. “If Derek doesn’t kill me for playing, she’ll definitely kill me for not playing.” 

“Yeah,” Stiles nods, his eyes following after the redhead. “But she’s hot so it doesn’t matter.” 

“You’re disgusting,” Fallon says with a grossed out expression. 

“At least I don’t find a murderer who buried the body on his property attractive,” he spats back, referring to her comment about Derek in the woods. 

“Why are you acting like you didn’t find him hot too?” She quirks a brow. Stiles opens his mouth and closes it, not able to find a good retort. She smirks, readying her lacrosse stick, “That’s what I thought.” 

The referee blows his whistle causing both teams to charge out onto the field from their respective sides. Loud cheers emanate throughout the crowd as the starting players get into their assigned positions. Fallon takes her spot near Jackson, the two fist bumping as they get ready to play. She keeps a close eye on Scott, watching as he mumbles something under his breath. 

“You’ll be okay,” she whispers, knowing he’ll hear her. “Just try to keep your heart rate down.”

He barely glances in her direction, but she doesn’t miss the grateful smile he sends her. His stature becomes slightly more confident as the crowd continues to whistle and cheer loudly. It’s not long before the referee steps forward, placing the ball between Jackson and one of the players on the opposing team. 

“Down!” He orders them into position. Jackson and the other boy do as they’re told, crouching with their lacrosse sticks touching the ground. “Set!” The ref gives the final warning before the game starts, then the whistle blows. 

Jackson easily scoops up the ball, barely giving the boy in front of him a chance to blink. Fallon follows after the blonde boy, blocking for him as the other players try to knock him down. She manages to lose the player guarding her, freeing herself up for a pass. 

“Jackson!” She yells out at the same time Scott does. 

Scott’s wide open as well with no one coming after him. Fallon swerves to the side, trying to avoid another oncoming player that’s after her. She hopes Jackson takes the opportunity to pass to Scott as she now has more people blocking her. To her dismay, Jackson completely ignores Scott and tosses the ball to her. She grunts before managing to maneuver her way out of the trap the opposing player put her in. The ball lands in her net perfectly. Fallon turns to pass to Scott, but is stopped by player twenty-six on their team, taking the ball from her. 

She furrows her eyebrows, not understanding why he would do that. She shakes off her confusion before continuing her fast pace. Scott once again shouts for them to hand him the ball, but is completely ignored. Suddenly it makes sense to Fallon. They’re doing this on purpose as revenge for Jackson. She rolls her eyes, determined to get Scott the ball at least once during this game. 

Twenty-six throws the ball to another player who has at least three guards on him. Understandably, he misses the catch, giving the other team a perfect chance to swoop up the ball and head in the other direction. 

Scott throws his arms up frustratedly, “Are you kidding me?!” 

The Cyclones manage to get the ball back with number twenty catching the ball and passing it to Jackson. However, Jackson ends up getting slide-tackled, hard, which causes the ball to fly out of his lacrosse stick. Fallon and Scott seem to have the same idea as they see the white ball sitting idly on the grass. She nods at him, silently communicating that she’ll block for him if he wants to go for it. Unfortunately, Jackson sees the small interaction which causes the blonde to shoot up and dart for the ball himself, not wanting Scott to have any of the glory. 

The three of them all begin running towards the ball. Right as Scott is about to scoop it up, Jackson shoves him aside so that he’s able to regain possession of the ball. Scott falls to the ground with enough force that he rolls over several times. Fallon watches angrily as Jackson runs to score the first point of the game. She scoffs at his behavior, but diverts her attention over to Scott. She walks up to him, helping him on his feet. 

“Don’t worry,” she grumbles. “We’ll kick his ass.” 

The crowd in the bleachers starts to stand and cheer, while Stiles watches apprehensively, afraid that the unfair treatment towards Scott will cause him to inadvertently shift on the field. Coach, however, is thrilled by the fact that they scored the first goal of the game and screams from the sidelines, “That's it, Jackson! Get fired up! Fired up!”

It seems now that the rest of the team is purposely ignoring Fallon as well, seeing as she tried to pass to Scott. She waits patiently to hear what Scott has to say as he’s the one who can hear what they’re talking about in the huddle. 

Fallon can hear Lydia loud and clear from the stands. She’s standing on her feet, forcing Allison to hold up a sign that says We Luv U Jackson. Watching Scott’s reaction made her frown. She rubs his back, “Ignore her. We’ve got this. Seriously, don’t let it bother you,” she warns. “We have bigger fish to fry.” 

Scott grumbles under his breath but goes back to listening to the other players. Fallon stays quiet to allow him to hear and isn’t surprised by the information he reveals when he turns to face her. “They were keeping it from me on purpose. And now, they’re doing it to you too.” 

She glares in Jackson’s direction who doesn’t even seem to notice her death stare. They’ve always gotten along as teammates so it makes her furious to see he’s icing her out just because he has a weird need to be in the spotlight. When she glances back at Scott, his eyes flash yellow, and his fangs slowly begin to poke out beyond his lips. She tries to grip his shoulders to calm him, but he’s already storming away from her, getting into formation. 

“Crap…” Fallon huffs. She shakes her head, running back to her own spot as well. Her eyes constantly travel over to Scott, her nerves at their peak at watching him in the process of shifting midgame. 

Allison and Lydia once again hold up the sign, cheering on Jackson. Fallon shakes her head as Scott’s eyes flash yellow again. Lydia really knows how to get under people’s skin. 

“Down! Set!” 

The whistle blows making everyone get ready to try and gain possession of the ball. The two players at the ball come to a stalemate, neither one able to push past the other to grab the ball. The force of having two lacrosse sticks with pressure from opposing sides causes the ball to fly haphazardly into the air. Fallon takes this as an opportunity to help Scott. She darts forward, somehow managing to jump over the heads of the other players, using her smaller stature to gain more height. She makes eye contact with Scott and both of them immediately start running as fast as they can towards the goal.

She deftly dodges a few players, smiling as she hears her father, Melissa, and Sheriff Stilinski cheer in the distance. Seeing a few more players chasing after her, she throws the ball towards Scott who continues the journey. He ducks, weaves, and spins around the other players. He easily slides the ball into the net causing the crowd to jump on their feet ecstatically. 

Fallon runs up to him, the two chest bumping confidently. He wraps his arm around her as they run back to the center of the field, high-fiving their teammates who congratulate them on their play. Both of them find it rather amusing as they were just conspiring against them moments ago. 

“McCall and Donovan!” Coach screams. “Pass. To. McCall and Donovan!” 

The brunette girl smirks smugly seeing how furious Jackson is over the attention being shifted from him to Scott. Everyone returns to midfield, getting in position as the referee gets ready to blow the whistle. Once he does, another stalemate ensues before number forty-three on the opposing team snatches the ball and heads towards their goal. 

Unfortunately, he gets right into Scott’s line of sight. Fallon watches as the boy terrifiedly tosses the ball deliberately into Scott’s net. She can only assume some of his werewolf-itude is what caused the sudden change in ferocity from the other player. She doesn’t take enough time to question it though, focusing on helping Scott make another goal. 

Scott rushes down the field, ducking to avoid any incoming blows from the other team. He runs in a zig-zag pattern, his newfound confidence and skill starting to border the line between natural and supernatural. He takes his shot, throwing the ball so hard that it tears directly through another player's net and flies straight into the goal. Fallon’s jaw drops. How on earth could they explain that? 

With the past two goals, the score is now five to five with only thirty-nine seconds left in the final quarter. Tensions and spirits are high as both teams are desperate to bring home this win for their individual school. Fallon isn’t quite sure if Scott is going to make it through this game without fully shifting. Her and Stiles exchange worried looks, which seems to be the only look they’ve been able to send each other recently. He nods at her, encouraging her to continue playing. She sighs, getting back into her starting position. She tries to ignore Scott’s heavy breathing, not wanting to draw too much attention to the fact that his canine teeth are now actually as sharp as an animals. 

The chirp of a whistle causes Jackson and the opposing player to fight for possession, which ends up with the latter getting the ball. However, his journey down the field is short as he drops the ball. Scott manages to snag it and starts running the other way but suddenly stops. He freezes in place causing everyone in the team and in the stands to start shouting at him. 

“No, no…” Fallon starts inching towards him. “Scott, come on.” 

The clock ticks down to seventeen seconds and the other team starts circling Scott like sharks, trying to get the ball back. “Scott!” She shouts. “Pass the ball! Look at me! Pass the ball!” 

Time is fleeting fast as the girl bounces around the field. She prays that something inside Scott’s mind snaps and he gets back into the game. And somehow, her prayer is answered. His eyes snap up, the golden tint gone as he throws the ball over the heads of the oncoming players and directly into Fallon’s net. 

She acts quick on her feet, knowing that they don’t have much time left. She approaches the goalie, the boy looking slightly terrified by her determined demeanor. Fallon spins, using all of her might to throw the ball into the net. The goalie actually flinches at the amount of force applied to the ball. His net comes nowhere near her shot, missing it completely as it makes it perfectly into the goal. 

The referee blows his whistle just as the buzzer sounds that the game has timed-out, leading all of the supporters of the Beacon Hills Cyclones to leap to their feet and cheer ecstatically, thrilled to see the final score is six to five with Beacon Hills winning the game

Fallon wants to focus on the fact she just scored the game winning point, but her mind is immediately drawn to Scott. She looks over her shoulder and through the masses of people trying to find her best friend, or maybe Stiles. When she finally finds the boy she’s looking for, he’s darting off towards the school. The need to go after him is strong, but if he’s about to shift it would be a better idea if she had some backup.

“Stiles!” Fallon shouts, politely thanking people who congratulate her on the game. She weaves in and out of the crowd, finally reaching the bench where he is. “We need to go,” she tells him with a serious expression. “Now.” 

“Hold on,” the boy mumbles, looking at his dad curiously who is on the phone. 

The girl huffs frustratedly, but knows better than to stop Stiles’ snooping. She waits patiently, hugging her dad and Melissa who have come up to tell her how great she did. She’s a tad surprised though when Chris Argent approaches her with an almost calculated smile. 

“That was some impressive stuff,” he compliments. “Allison wasn’t kidding when she said you were good.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Fallon says appreciatively. “I’m glad you could come.” 

“Yeah, me too,” his voice sounds almost distant. “So, your teammate, McCall is it? He had some pretty interesting moves…”

Fallon swallows thickly, “Uh, y-yeah. Scott’s pretty good at what he does.” 

“Yeah,” his eyes are still focused on something in the distance. “Well, I’m looking forward to having more of a formal introduction with you this evening. That is if you still plan on coming over? I know Allison was really looking forward to it.”

His blue eyes are piercing through her soul. She chuckles awkwardly, nodding her head. “Yeah, I’m really excited. I’ll be there, just after I change and stuff. Don’t wanna stink up your guys’ house,” she jokes in attempts to gain some oxygen back that’s been stolen from her lungs by the tense conversation. 

“Perfect,” he pats her back. “Congratulations again, by the way. I look forward to seeing more games.” 

And with that, he walks away from her. Fallon lets out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding. When she finally turns around to talk to Stiles, his face represents how she feels on the inside. She furrows her eyebrows, “What’s wrong?” 

Stiles hesitantly makes eye contact with her, not really sure how to say his next sentence. “They let Derek out of jail…” he trails off, his mind still trying to process all of the information. 

“What?” Fallon tilts her head. She didn’t necessarily think he did it, but finding the body on his property was pretty damning evidence. It shouldn’t have taken just a few short days to get him off that easily. 

“Yeah,” he shakes his head. “And the real kick to the nuts is that my dad ID’d the dead girl. Laura Hale. His sister.” 

Fallon’s mouth goes dry as she tries to find the right words to say. “That would kind of explain the makeshift burial,” she says weakly. 

Stiles just narrows his eyes at her, not knowing if he’s more appalled learning the dead girl was Derek’s sister or the fact his best friend just tried to justify it. He decides it can be both. “C’mon,” he grabs her hand. “We’ve gotta tell Scott.”

𝐝𝐲𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐫

teen wolf headers

A look so quick

A movement so slight

Ah, it’s not passin’ fascination now It’s

obsession

Liking characters who are jerks

me at the beginning: this guy is an asshole why does anyone like him wow this is lame

me now: THIS IS MY SMALL SON. HE IS TRASH AND IS ALSO VERY TINY AND I LOVE HIM. HE IS TRASH KING. I LOVE MY SMALL TRASH KING SON. HE IS MINE. MY TINY TRASH SON. MINE. ONLY MINE.

TEEN WOLF || peter hale

I'm not the bad guy here.

Peter Hale | Teen Wolf | Not my gif

Requests are OPEN

Title: Of Witches & Wolves

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing(s): Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski.

Rating: Mature.

Warning: Contains domestic violence in chapter 2.

Chapter: 3/?

Summary: Adjusting to life after the deaths of the crazed Alpha and Kate Argent, Scott and Stiles have barely gotten back to having normal lives when the monsters start to come out again, and not all of them are supernatural this time. Stiles learns a shocking secret about his mother and her side of the family.

Stiles: Dad, I have a boyfriend. (Sees, his father grabbing his keys) where are you going?

Sheriff Stilinski: I'm just gonna have a little talk with Derek Hale.

Stiles: That's not the Hale I'm dating...

(Across town, confused) Peter: Why do I feel like I'm in danger?

It was definitely way more than once.

Peter and Chris, is it true you had sex on a Pride float?

They totally switch

Chris and Peter, when having sex who tops/bottoms more, or do you flip?

Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!

@miskatonicuniversityprometheus it is I, your Steter Secret Santa, here to delivery the gift of Peter and Stiles having some naughty Christmas fun.

Title: Santa Daddy.

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Pairing(s): Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Chris Argent(flashback).

Rating: Explicit.

Warning: Contains sex.

Chapter: 1/1.

Summary: It’s that wonderful time of year, that time of year when Stiles Stilinski-Hale comes home to find that being on Santa’s naughty list isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Merry Christmas @geekmom13 from your Steter secret Santa for the @stetersecretsanta2023 challenge, I hope you enjoy the story and have a holiday.

Title: Jingle My Bells.

Fandom: Teen Wolf.

Trigger(s): Explicit sex.

Pairing(s): Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski/Chris Argent

Rating: Explicit.

Chapter: 1/1.

Summary: It's that magical time of year, joy and merriment are in the air, and for Stiles Stilinski-Hale he's going to find out what happens to good little twinks on Santa's nice list

in honour of me rewatching Teen Wolf, what’s your favourite Season + episode ??

mine is Season 3 Episode 18 bcs Void Stiles is hottt

re-watching Teen Wolf and reading Sterek fanfics is the only correct way to spend your Sunday

Hello My dear followers!

It has been a very long time since I have been active on Tumblr! :O And as you guys can probably see, then you can see that I have decided to change my name from thebillskarsgaardblog to multimagicalfandom iinstead. I just got bored to post only about Bill (don't worry I still love him very much) but I would to love to post about other people and characters from movies tv and others. So yeah, hope you guys would love its as well, as you guys did with thebillskarsgaardblog <3

- Sara