Summary: The chase to find the werecoyote becomes even more dangerous
warnings: mentions of death, swearing, violence, blood
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Stiles and I stood in the clearing for a minute, hoping that we would hear Scott call out for us farther up the hill. When there was nothing but the sound of him disturbing branches and then no sound at all, we exchanged a glance. And then both started running up the hill.
“Dammit Scott!” I shouted as I pushed branches and leaves out of the way. Stiles and I were two of the most uncoordinated people on this earth, running around in the woods at night was just a set up for disaster. Stiles tumbled to the ground after tripping on a root that I had narrowly avoided. I stopped to haul him off the ground before we continued running.
I could see a light to the left of us so I veered in that direction, hoping that Stiles would follow behind me. He finally reached my side just as a shadow moving quickly fell right into us.
I was sitting in mud on the ground with the boys crushed on top of me. That terrifying shadow that had the two of us screaming was in fact Scott. Looking very human and very much like we just shared the literal shit out of him.
“Oh thank god, it's just you.” Stiles said breathlessly as he helped me up from the ground. He glanced behind us to where the two of us had happened upon the den.
He explained how he had seen the coyote- Malia- as we led him back to the den near the crash. It was only about ten meters from where the car was lying on its side, hidden to us at first only because of the dark. The three of us had to crouch or even crawl to get in the den fully, the rock around us cold and pitch black. When Stiles moved the flashlight back and forth we could all see the various things Malia must have taken from the car. A doll, a jacket, a shoe. All kids sizes. Looking at them made me realize just how young she was when it happened.
“It's her den.” Stiles crouched down and grabbed the plush jacket laying on the dirt, holding it up in the flashlight for Scott to see.
“It's Malia’s, I recognize it from the pictures in the house.”
“We shouldn't be in here,” Scott said, turning slowly toward the entrance.
“What do you mean?” Stiles shared a quick glance at me, turning back to Scott just as quick.
“She's not going to come back here now, we’ve invaded her home.”
“Our scent must be everywhere” I added, thinking of all the things we must have touched.
“If she won’t come back here then where is she going to go?”
“That's the problem, isn't it?” I asked turning to Scott
“Could you track her now? With that?” I pointed to the jacket in his hand.
“Maybe, but I'm better at this when I’m a full wolf and right now…” he trailed off, refusing to make eye contact with either of us. Stiles finished for him.
“You don't know if you would be able to turn back.” Scott nodded, still facing down in the darkness.
“The door is still open.” I said, placing my hand on Stiles' shoulder to guide him out of the den.
“We need to find Derek, or if not him, someone - anyone- who can help us.” I turned to Stiles who was staring up at the sky.
“Stiles. This is basically a crime scene right?”
“And it's a little out of our league.” Scott added
“More in my dads” he finally looked at us and pulled out his phone, stepping away to make the call.
Less than thirty minutes later the full force of the Beacon Hills police department had arrived on scene. We showed them to the car first and then over to the den, guiding up the rocks on the side of the hill. Stiles' dad had so far only said two words to us at all.
“Stay here” he had pointed to his squad car that still had the lights running and his jaw was clenched so hard I thought it would shatter. Eventually he came back out of the woods to where the three of us had obediently been waiting. He stepped in front of Scott and lowered his voice.
“You’re sure it was her? It was Malia?” Scott nodded
“I looked her right in the eyes. They glowed just like mine.”
“But it wasn't actually a girl. It was a four legged coyote, right?”
“Well yes, but-” he cut his son off with a wave of the hand only for Scott to take up the same thought.
“Okay, but if it happened on a full moon and she did change while her mom was driving then anything could have happened.”
“Even if Malia didn’t cause the accident itself, she still could have run off and changed later” I said, trying to support the boys as best I could.
“Or horrible things could have happened.” Stiles joined back in “Ripping, tearing, shredding things.” I slapped him in the arm and shook my head.
“Okay, think about it. They’re driving, Malia starts to change, she goes out of control, the mom crashes and everyone dies.”
“Everyone but Malia.” I say
“Who was left alone in the woods, she blames herself for the accident and runs off, eventually becoming trapped as a coyote because she doesn't know how to change”
Noah’s face fell into a scowl. He sighed deeply.
“Right. Because that makes sense. In a Chinese folktale!” he raised his voice and then lowered it just as quickly. “This, this is just insane.” He shook his head. The three of us kept quiet, knowing that the damage had already been done.
“I need this kept quiet.” He said, pointing a finger out at us “Not a word from the three of you to anyone. I do not want anyone hearing about this, especially Mr.Tate.”
We all nodded, staring off into the woods to avoid the scathing look he was giving. Another squad car pulled up behind him, the lights blinding us as we turned to see who had arrived. The car wasn't like the others, it was unmarked, and as it parked I realized why.
Mr.Tate and Scott’s father both stepped out of the car.
“Oh, Hell” Noah said before trudging off in their direction. The three of us stayed behind as they made their way to us. I linked my hand with Stiles after his dad walked away, starting to feel the exhaustion of being up this late. Not to mention the stress of everything going on right now.
“Mr. Tate.” Noah said in greeting as they arrived in front of us. Tate latched his eyes onto the coat in Scott’s hand, still hanging limply by his side. When we realized what he was looking at Scott passed it over to Noah who handed it gingerly to Mr.Tate. I had to look away from the man's face when he took it into his hands, staring at it as if it were the body of his daughter and not just a bit of fabric.
Scotts father turned to us. “Alright wait right here”
“Dad” Scott protested, grabbing his attention before he could go up the hill. His father turned back to him slightly. “I’ll talk to you in a minute.”
I could see Scott's face fall as it always did when his dad dismissed him. It made me want to punch the man, but instead I just tightened my hand around Stiles.
“I wouldn't mind hearing how your mom is okay with you running around in the woods this late” he didn't allow a reply from anyone as he turned fully and stalked off into the woods. If there's one thing that makes Scott angry it's his father. And something to make that even worse, would be his father blaming anything on his mother.
The three of us stayed by the cars as we were told, Stiles' dad following after Scott’s as they headed back into the woods. We could hear them arguing in the distance about why he brought Mr.Tate. To me it just seemed cruel. Telling him about it is one thing, but making him see in person- something entirely different.
“Hey, you still awake?” Stiles nudged me with his shoulder after I had been quiet for a while.
“Sorry, yeah, just thinking. Tired though.”
After the night Scott, y/n and I had, it was no surprise that y/n/n decided to stay home for a little longer. She fought me on it at first, insisting that if the rest of us were going into school that she would just come too. Eventually I broke her down by stroking her hair until she fell asleep and then escaping with the car and leaving a note for her with my dad. She’ll definitely be pissed as hell once she wakes up. But at least she can sleep without worrying about me for five minutes.
Scott and I had just sat down in history. Of course I wasn't listening or paying attention as Mr.Yukimora outlined what we would be doing for today. Nothing until suddenly I heard my name being called.
“Mr.Stilinski, how about you?” I looked up from twirling my pencil around my finger “Oh, uh, maybe someone else could?” I gulped after asking, feeling my heart rate already pick up. With how the past few days had been lately there was no telling if I would be able to do this.
“Everyone participates in my class, Mr.Stilinski”
I stared down at my desk again before resigning myself and sliding out of the chair. It was only a couple of steps to the front where the book was sitting flat on a podium but for some reason when I got there I was already out of breath.
I looked down at the textbook, briefly relieved that I could see the words on the page.
“Okay, okay” I whispered to myself. Then, without warning the page blurred in front of me. Only for a second, but enough that after I blinked harshly and reopened my eyes the words and letters were back. But none of them made sense.
“No. no no no. Come on, come on!” My grip on the podium tightened, white knuckling the wood as I squeezed my eyes shut again. I did it so hard that it hurt. My breathing was still picking up. I still couldn't read. Suddenly I was dizzy, I felt- I felt like something was wrong. All of it just felt wrong. I couldn't take a breath, I couldn't step away, my vision blurred even more, the non distinguishable words blurring together until there was nothing left for me to read at all. Then suddenly there was a silence in my mind.
I'm not even awake. God, was it all a dream?
I looked back up at the class. All of my classmates were staring up at me, waiting for me to read or to step away, waiting for me to do something.
No. no, they're not. Because they aren't real. None of this is real.
“It's not real. None of this is real” I whispered. I looked over to dream Scott who had just looked up at me. I could hardly see him as he got out of his seat, walking to where I was doubled over at the podium. When did that happen?
I couldn't get the breath out to respond to him. Not just that. I didn't want to. Whenever I engage in my dreams something always goes wrong.
I tried to take a step away and stumbled. Scott was there to grab me by the arm and steady me.
“I should take him to the nurse” he said quietly while taking hold of me and dragging me out of the classroom.
I didn't fight it as he led me out. I almost stumbled with him, aiding him in getting me out. Even if none of it was real I still didn't want to stand there with all of them watching me. He brought me into a bathroom nearby, not one I could ever remember seeing in real life.
As he opened the door for me I launched myself inside, trying to get out of his grip. I fell into the doorframe, feeling the pain run down from my shoulder to the tips of my fingers. Finally I stopped my fall at the sink. I gripped it just like I had the wood in the classroom, this time staring into a foggy mirror in front of me.
“Stiles, look at me, man, is this a panic attack?”
I shook my head, trying to wake myself up. It all felt so real. But it wasn't. I knew it wasn't. I needed to wake up. I needed to get out of here I couldn't-
“It's a dream. It's a dream.” I chanted to myself, trying to close my eyes and say the words. Sometimes if I say it enough eventually it becomes true.
“No it's not Stiles. This is real. You are real, you're here with me.”
no. no, he's lying. They always lie. They always try to keep me here with them but I wouldn't stay. No. I stared into the mirror, looking for any way to bring myself back. I felt like my heart was being ripped from my body.
“Shit!” I heard him curse from behind me. “Pick up, pick up, pick up!” He was madly dialing someone's number on his phone, again and again and again. “y/n, goddamnit pick up!”
y/n. She would wake me up. She always wakes me up.
“y/n we need you at the school, somethings happening with Stiles! Just- if you get this just come here, please!” He hung up the phone and then dropped it in a corner where his bag had been tossed.
“Stiles what does she do?”
I flung my head around to look at him.
“What does y/n do when she needs to help you?” he asked again. It didn't make sense. Something about him just wasn't fake enough. It was too real. I didn't understand. It was all too real. But I had to try. Maybe it would help, maybe this would help.
“F-fingers, count your fingers.”
his eyes widened like he was surprised to hear my voice. To be honest I was too.
“Okay, okay. So how many do I have?”
I turned back to stare into the sink, feeling like I was losing myself.
I just couldn't catch my breath, I could understand, I just-
“Count with me Stiles!” His hands were blurry at first when I turned around but I managed to focus on the one digit he held up for me to see.
With each finger I counted I could breathe a little easier. Once we got to five some part of me started to believe that maybe this was real. But if it was then what was happening to me?
His phone rang from the corner of the room. I think it might have been the entire time but I didn't realize how loud it was until now.
“Seven. Eight. Nine.” he held up one last finger as the ringing from the corner stopped. It was so quiet.
“Ten.” I finally looked into Scotts eyes. Real. His eyes were real. I was here.
I slid down the wall behind me, exhausted and terrified of myself. I heard someone screaming in the hall.
“Where is he! Did you see where they went?”
the door slammed open just as I hit the floor. Scott kneeled down beside me as y/n came into view. It was almost laughable to see how she towered over Scott and I even though when the both of us are standing she's about a foot shorter. I was tired and sweaty. I could feel the cotton of my shirt sticking to my skin when I rested my arms on my bent knees.
“What the hell is happening to me?”
y/n kneeled down beside Scott and placed a hand over mine on my knee.
“We’ll figure this out okay?” Scott said, standing up and heading towards the door. “You're going to be okay.” the door swung closed behind him. I could hear him telling a group of kids to walk away.
I couldn't look her in the eye. I couldn't let her see the terror and pain I knew was there. Finally when I did, a few tears mixed with sweat made their way down my face to my chin.
she frowned but waited as she could tell I wasn't done.
“Are any of us?” I gestured at the door,“Scott can’t transform, Allison is being haunted by her dead aunt. And I’m straight up losing my mind.”
At that she moved closer to me and put my face in her hands. She held me so that I couldn't look away from her. Still and calm. Her hands were cold against my skin just like they always are. Something about it broke into me. I knew I was finally safe and yet somehow that feeling I had before of something just being… off, was still there.
“We can’t do this. We can’t help anyone.”
“Hey. stop.” she shook her head at me. Tears were welling in her eyes but she refused to let them fall. “I'm all for a moment of doubt, okay? I'm all for the need to just collapse every once in a while and you know that I will be here for you every single time okay? But never, never, let me hear you say that you are crazy or that there's nothing we can do.”
She let go of my head to pull me into her for a hug. With my face laying against her chest she rested her head atop mine.
“We might not be winning right now Stiles, but we haven't lost just yet.”
Stiles and I sat on the floor of the bathroom for another thirty minutes. We didn’t talk anymore or try to get up and leave, just sat quietly, waiting for a reason to get up. Eventually we heard a commotion outside the door.
“Do you think Scott?” He asked, thinking of Scotts current Alpha issues.
we both dashed out the door to find a small group of students running for the main entrance. Stiles snagged one by the shirt.
“Hey, what's going on, why is everyone running?!”
the poor kid looked panicked but he answered quickly “Coyote, lockers” before running again towards the doors. Instead of following him and all the other kids like we should have, we of course headed in the opposite direction.
“Why is it that we always end up running towards danger?” I asked as we slowed in front of the locker room doors. We heard a loud crash come from inside and a growl before Stiles shoved me back into the hallway. Standing in front of me I couldn't see anything but a gray brown blur as the animal-girl- ran past us and out of the closed school doors. I gulped down a breath and looked at Stiles.
“It was Malia,” Scott said, leading Kira out of the locker room by one arm and in the other holding Stiles black backpack, the front was ripped off, revealing the doll lying within. “Did you see where she went?” he asked, holding the bag out for Stiles to grab.
“Nope, we were too busy trying not to be eaten.” he replied, glancing up at Kira and then back to me. I nudged him with my shoulder.
“We should probably go out there, I bet someone already called your dad.”
Indeed the second we walked out into the hallway we could see Noah and a few deputies at the other end.
“Stiles!” He called, raising his eyebrows in what we have become well acquainted with as the what the hell happened look. He put a hand on the back of Stiles' neck, narrowing his eyes when he undoubtedly felt the remains of a cold sweat and first from falling onto the bathroom floor.
“Some students called us, said they saw a coyote running out the back doors and across the baseball field.”
Stiles worried his lip a little, walking back towards where me and Scott were waiting for him.
“Thank god no one got hurt.” his father finished when they reached us.
“What happens if someone does get hurt?” he said to his dad.“What if she hurts someone?” he said again, more urgently.
Noah shook his head and sighed. “Then we’ll have to put it down.”
“Put her down. There's a girl in there, dad.” Stiles was raising his voice, looking at his father incredulously. “A girl that you’d be killing.” he finished, huffing a breath and stopping to stand beside me.
I skimmed a hand down his arm, trying to get him to take a breath. He did, but still continued as his father did not respond.
“Come on. You aren't back to not believing are you?”
Scott had walked off with Kira a minute ago, now stopping his conversation with her as he no doubt tried with his wolf hearing to listen to this instead.
“I believe that there are a lot of things I still don’t understand.” he paused and waited for a deputy to walk by.“But that doesn't mean anything imaginable is suddenly possible.” Stiles' face fell before he looked up to find Scott. Now without Kira nearby, he was fully listening.
“Are you 100% sure that this is a girl and not an animal?” He asked when he saw Stiles looking away. He wasn't responding fast enough so I jumped in for the first time since they had come over.
Stiles turned his face back to his father.“Because Scott’s sure.” he said, waving a hand toward where Scott was listening at the end of the hall. Noah turned as well, looking to Scott. Stiles lowered his voice to a whisper, barely audible to me right next to him.
“Scott, you been listening?” Yards away, Scott nodded, locking eyes with Noah as he did so.
The sheriff rubbed his face with his palms. “Alright, let's get this figured out, come on.” he took Stiles by the shoulder again and led him back towards the locker room. The doll that had been ripped from Stiles' backpack was laying on the ground in a heap.
“Stiles. You took the doll from the car?” Noah sighed again
“Yeah- I thought Scott could like use it for her scent or something.” He said sheepishly, still holding the doll up with one hand.
A new hand suddenly flew into view and grabbed the doll from Stiles. When I looked back I saw Mr.Tate’s angry face standing inches behind me.
“Where did you get this!” his eyes were wide, and his voice loud enough to call in a deputy from the hall. Stiles took a step forward and placed a hand on my arm, leading me a few steps away from Mr.Tate and then between him and Scott. Noah stepped forward to speak.
“This belonged to my daughter.” Mr.Tate said, cradling the doll.
“Mr.Tate, I don't know how you heard about this- if you have a police scanner or what- but you can't be here.”
Noah was now standing between the three of us and Mr.Tate who still had the doll in his hand, but it was now by his side. The sheriff placed a hand on his front, applying a gentle pressure to get him to turn around and leave the room. Noah suddenly flung one hand back towards us, making sure that we kept back. Mr.Tates face had gone red and understanding came to me suddenly when Noah opened the flap of Tate’s jacket to reveal a small gun hidden by his waist.
Stiles threw a protective arm out in front of me, his hand settling on the opposite side of my waist. I rolled my eyes, but stayed where I was.
“I have a permit.” Mr.Tate ground out.
“California schools are gun free zones- permit or no permit.” he was firm and kept his hands and eyes on Mr.Tate, waiting for his next move.
“You need to leave Mr.Tate. Now.”
The deputy from the hall took one of Mr.Tate's arms after hearing the sheriff, pulling out into the hall while he started and insisted, trying to stay in the room.
“You find that animal! You find that thing!”
we could hear him yell from the hall. Stiles finally let out a breath I didn't know he had been holding. He looked over at me and practically patted me down with the arm that hand been flung across me earlier.
“Are you okay? Did he touch you?” I rolled my eyes again and gently shoved him off.
“Stiles calm down, I’m fine, be barely got within a foot of me.”
“A foot too close.” he mumbled under his breath
“Stiles is right to be worried, he was too close and had a weapon on him, besides we don't know what he could have planned-” Scott cut himself off as a look of realization came over his face.
“He’s going to go after Malia himself.”
After a ten minute fight between y/n, Scott, and I about what we should do, all three of us ended up in the jeep, heading to Deaton’s for help. We had sort of decided on a plan along the way. Well, less of a plan and more of an end goal. We needed to get Malia to change.
“I still don't think we should even be thinking about sedating her.” Sophie said, feet up on the dash, and arms crossed in a pout.
Scott tried to reason with her, “It's the only way we know we can keep her safe for a little while, if we sedate her and get her to Deaton then Mr.Tate can’t go after her for a while at least.”
“It gives us time to figure out what we need to do to fix Scott and turn her back into a human, that's all, okay?” I tried to comfort her, leaving out the part that if we do succeed in getting her tranked then we have to take her to Deaton and we have no idea how long we would have to keep her like that. Or if we could even find a way to change her back at all. But I kept that part to myself.
The three of us loaded out of the jeep and into the vet office. It was almost laughable how well I knew this place by now. Practically once a day I find myself jumping over the little gate to get into the back, ignoring the “closed” sign out front.
y/n stepped out in front of us, her jaw still clenched in indignation.
“What are you using?” She asked Deaton who was walking in from a room far in the back of the clinic.
“Xylazine. It’s a tranquilizer for horses.”
I didn't envy him when I saw the look on her face.
“For horses?” She raised her eyebrows. “She is barely seventy pounds!” Deaton calmly placed three vials in front of us and turned to her.
“Exactly. For a werecoyote it should work in seconds, not minutes.”
“Yeah, if it doesn't kill her first.” He ignored her and looked to Scott as he continued.
“I only have three. So whoever is shooting better be damn good.” Scott didn't hesitate
“Allison is a perfect shot.”
“She used to be.” All of us sent a glare toward Isaac.
“Thanks man. I’m sure that's really what all of us needed to hear right now.” I said, looking over at him and sarcastically nodding my head. The guy just gets on my nerves. Such a downer.
“If we manage to find the thing.”
“Her.” y/n interjected. “If we manage to find her.” I took a step closer to her and point to Issac.
“Okay, seriously, what is the point of him? Like really, what is his purpose? Aside of course from the persistent negativity and the scarves.” I could feel y/n/n rolling her eyes at me but I continued, “what is with the scarf anyways? It’s 65 degrees out.”
“Look, maybe I'm asking a question no one else wants to ask. How do we turn a coyote back into a girl, when she hasn't been a girl in eight years?” we were all silent.
“You can?” I asked Scott.
“Do you remember that night that Peter locked us in the school?” he asked, turning to look at me and y/n by my side, “in the gym, he was able to make me turn just using his voice. Deucalion did the same thing in the distillery.”
“This is a werecoyote Scott. No one knows if that would work.”
“That's why you called Derek first.” I said to Scott, trying to ignore all of the eyes at my back.
“Yeah. But right now I'm too scared to turn into a wolf.”
I tubbed a hand over my face, sighing deeply. “We need a real alpha.” y/n hit my arm. “You know what I mean, an alpha who can do alpha things!” She hit me again. “You know, an alpha you can get it going. You know get it-”
“Up?” Issac interjected and for once I felt like we were almost on the same page. I nodded and waved a hand at him.
“Great. So I'm an alpha with performance issues.” he sighed.
We discussed for a few more minutes, y/n quiet by my side as the sun started to go down out the windows. Eventually we realized that the twins were what we needed. Even if they weren't alphas themselves anymore, they knew how to be one. The only problem was where to find them. I took a glance at y/n, wondering if we were thinking the same thing.
“No one knows where to find them.” Scott said, his head hanging low over the metal table. y/n and I shared a look. Held it for a second too long.
“Actually, that's not true.”
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