Hi, I’m James! I’m going to be starting a series rewrite of Teen Wolf that’s completely platonic so you can join the Pack on their adventures! My other fanfic acc is @platonicfanfiction
Hey! This will be my master list :) Feel free to send in an ask if you have any questions/suggestions. This is going to be a completely platonic series with all inclusive pronouns.
Season 1 Masterlist
Scott is a non-athletic, social awkward high school sophomore... but a single wolf bite changes everything. Now he’s the popular star of his lacrosse team and dating the new girl in town. But Scott’s “new” abilities also pull him into the middle of a war between werewolves and werewolf hunters.
Season 2 Masterlist
Season two begins when a new member of the Argent family arrives in Beacon Hills, and Scott and Allison are forced to continue their blossoming romance in secret. At the same time, Derek Hale, obsessed with gaining strength as the new alpha, begins recruiting for his pack, including newly-bitten Jackson.
Season 3 Masterlist
Four months after the events that nearly ended Jackson’s life and resurrected Peter Hale’s, teen wolf Scott McCall and his friends begin their junior year of highschool unaware that a new threat has arrived in Beacon Hills: A pack of Alpha werewolves intent on bringing Derek into their fold, while destroying his young pack.
Season 4 Masterlist
Still healing from tragic losses, Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Kira, and Y/N return to a new semester of school with more human worries than supernatural, while also trying to help their new friend Malia, integrate back into society. But Kate Argent’s surprising resurrection brings a new threat to Beacon Hills along with the emergence of another mystery enemy known simply as Orphaned.
Season 5A Masterlist
On the eve of Senior Year, Scott and his friends find themselves facing the possibility of a future without each other, a next phase in their lives that might take them in different directions despite their best intentions.
Season 5B Masterlist
Reeling from crushing losses, Scott struggles to put his pack back together while the Dread Doctors’ final creation, a creature known as The Beast, terrorizes Beacon Hills.
Season 6A Masterlist
Storm clouds gather as Scott and the pack head into their final months of high school. But the best days of their lives turn bleak when they lose their closest ally. Before the end, Scott and Y/N will stand alone before the growing darkness and fight to stop the destruction of everything and everyone they love.
Season 6B Masterlist
On the eve of their departure, Scott and his pack discover a new enemy rising in the shadows which threatens the fate of everything they hold dear. Will they find a way to stop the greatest threat they’ve ever faced? Find out on the final season of Teen Wolf.
A/N: I am absolutely KILLING IT with these updates. Expect a lot more coming up. Also I don't think I'm going to continue making three separate parts for pronouns whenever a part doesn't use any pronouns for the reader.
Any Pronouns
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of a dead body
“What do you mean you can’t play the game tomorrow night?” Coach asks as Scott follows him into his office.
“I mean I can’t play the game tomorrow night.”
“You mean you can’t wait to play the game tomorrow night?”
“No, I can’t play the game tomorrow night.”
“I’m not following.”
Scott sighs looking around the office. “I’m-- having some personal issues.”
Exasperated, Scott tries to continue; “No, Danny’s good looking. But I like girls. And that’s not it anyway--”
“Is it drugs? Are you doing meth? My brother was hooked on meth. You should have seen what it did to his teeth, all rotted and cracked. It was disgusting. He was a mess.”
Genuinely concerned, Scott asks, “What happened to him?”
“He got veneers. They look perfect now. Is, is that what this is about? Are you afraid of getting hurt McCall?”
“No. I’m just having some issues dealing with... aggression.”
“Well, here’s the good news, that’s exactly why you play lacrosse. Problem solved.”
“Coach. I can’t play the game.”
“Listen, McCall. Part of playing first line is taking on the responsibility of being the first line in the game. If you can’t shoulder that responsibility then you’re back on the bench until you’re ready.”
“If I don’t play the game, you’re taking me off first line?”
"McCall,” Coach says pointedly, “Play the game.”
-----
Stepping back into the corridor and into the rush of students, Scott jumps when his phone RINGS in his pocket. He takes it out to read a text message from his Mom:
Got the night off! Coming to see you play! So excited!!
Scott breathes a sigh of frustration. His phone BUZZES again with a second text from his Mom:
What does LMFAO mean?
He’s about to type back when he notices someone coming down the corridor to find him; Allison Argent. As she walks through the crowd, every teenage male eye seeming to follow her. But her perfect smile is reserved for Scott.
Nodding to his phone Allison asks, “Hey, you busy?”
“No. It’s just my Mom. She’s nothing. I mean it’s nothing. I’m never busy. For you.”
“I like the sound of that... I have to run to French class but I wanted you to know I’m coming to see you play tomorrow.”
“You are?”
“And we’re all going out afterwards. You, me, Lydia, Jackson. It’s going to be great. And bring Stiles too. Save me a seat at lunch, I’ve gotta go.”
Scott barely has a chance to nod as she hurries off. But just before she disappears into the rush of students, she smiles at him again. With a quick wave, she’s gone.
Scott slumps against the lockers muttering to himself, “I am so screwed.”
-----
Down the adjacent hall, Allison stops at her locker, quickly spins the combo, grabs her French book and suddenly stops when she notices something strange inside. Slowly, she pulls an item out, one that shouldn’t be there... her jacket from the party.
As she eases the locker shut, she notices how very alone she is in the corridor. She gazes down one end of the hall and then the other. Not a soul. Not a sound. Until--
The second bell rings, startling her. Breathing a short laugh at herself, she hurries off to class.
-----
At the chalkboard with other students solving algebra problems, Lydia whispers to Scott.
“Why is there a rumor going around that you’re not playing tomorrow?”
“Because I’m sort of... not.”
“I think you sort of are. Especially when you brutally injure my boyfriend by ramming into him.”
“He brutally injured himself ramming into me.”
The math teacher steps past, eyeing their work on the board.
“Jackson’s going to play Saturday, but he’s not going to be at peak. I prefer my boyfriend at peak performance.”
“Okay...” Scott responds, wondering if she’s still talking about lacrosse.
“See, I date the captain of a winning lacrosse team. If they start off the season losing, I date the captain of a losing lacrosse team. I don’t date losers. You understand how that works?”
“Losing one game isn’t going to kill anyone. In fact, it might save someone,” he argues back.
Lydia looks at him. Doesn’t get it. Doesn’t care. “Fine. Don’t play. We’ll probably win anyway. We’ll go out after like we’re planning. I’ll introduce Allison to all the other hot players on the team. And while she gets the attention she deserves, Scott McCall can stay home surfing the net for porn. "
She finishes her math problem, wipes the chalk off her hands and saunters back to her desk. Scott returns his attention to his own equation on the board.
The math teacher walks up behind him chastising, “Mr. McCall, you’re not even close to solving your problem.”
“Tell me about it,” Scott quips back.
-----
As Stiles and I turn the corner to the hall our next class is located, I see someone familiar talking to the vice principle.
“Wait-- is that Noah?” Grabbing the back of Stiles’s collar I drag him back behind the wall to hide us from view. Peeking around the corner, there Sheriff Stilinski standing in the middle of the hall having a seemingly serious conversation to the vice principle.
“I can’t hear them, what are they saying?” Stiles whines.
“I don’t know I don’t have super hearing.”
And as if a lightbulb went off in his head, Stiles bolts off looking for someone who does in fact have super hearing as I continue to keep an eye on the targets.
Hearing stomping footsteps behind me I turn around seeing an out of breath Stiles, Scott in tow.
“Come here, come here, tell me what they’re saying,” I ask Scott as the boys follow my gaze down the hall. I can see Scott focus, attempting to tune in the voices.
“...animal attacks... just don’t want the kids out... 9:30pm... institute the curfew....”
With a look of annoyance Scott turns back towards us.
“A curfew. Because of the body.”
Great.
“Unbelievable!” Stiles starts to complains, “Seriously unbelievable. My Dad’s out looking for a rabid animal while the jerkoff who actually killed the girl is just hanging out doing whatever he wants.”
Interjecting, I add, “Well, we can’t exactly tell him what’s going on with Derek. He’d want to do something about it.”
“Well, I’m gonna do something about it.”
“Like what?” Scott asks.
“Like find the other half of the body.”
And with that Stiles walks to his next class. Waving a bye to Scott I go catch up to him.
-----
Scott stops when he spots Allison shaking hands with an extremely good-looking lacrosse player. Lydia wears a big smile while introducing them while staring right at Scott.
Allison turns to see him approaching as Lydia and the lacrosse player slip away.
“So, Lydia’s introducing you to everyone?” Scott questions.
“Yeah, she’s been so unbelievably nice. Usually, the popular girls are totally evil when I move to a new place. But she’s making it really easy for me.”
“I wonder why.”
“Maybe she gets how much being the New Girl can suck.”
He’s about to reply when he notices with alarm that she’s carrying the jacket from party that Derek had.
"Where did you get that?”
“My jacket? It was in my locker. I think Lydia brought it back from the party. She has my combination--”
“Did she say she brought it back? Did someone give her the jacket?” Scott is starting to get more urgent; how did Derek get into her locker? Was he still here? Is Derek going to hurt Allison?
“Like who?"
“Like Derek."
“Your friend?”
“He’s not my friend. How much did you talk to him when he drove you home?”
“Not much at all.”
“What did you say?"
Allison can tell he’s getting more and more aggressive; cautiously she replies, "Sorry, but I have to get to my next class. Can we talk later?”
“Allison--”
“I really have to go.”
She hurries off, leaving Scott ruminating on the jacket. But then he turns, moving with focus, faster and faster--
-----
On his bike and pedaling at top speed, Scott charges down the road. Finally, he whips onto a driveway leading to the rundown Hale house.
“Derek!”
He lets his bike clatter to the ground, school bag with it. In a flash he’s on the porch, looking in each window.
“Derek!”
Still no response. Scott slips around the side of the house and to the back. Then something catches his attention-- At the edge of the woods, he sees FRESH DIRT covering the ground. As if something had been dug up. Or buried.
But before he can approach, a sound stops him in his tracks... a heartbeat. At first, it’s a tiny rhythm in the distance. But then it rapidly gets louder, stronger. Scott starts to back away, moving for the front of the house again and for his bike when Derek steps out of the woods. No sudden appearance, no theatrics. He just calmly walks out of the shadows while Scott tries to stand strong.
“Stay away from her. She doesn’t know anything.”
“What if she does?”
Derek keeps coming, backing Scott away from the house.
“You think your little buddy Stiles can Google werewolves and now you’ve got all the answers?”
Reaching down to Scott’s school bag, Derek picks up the lacrosse stick, playfully turning it over in his hands.
“You don’t get it yet, but I’m looking out for you. Think about what could happen. You’re on the
field. The aggression takes over. And you shift in front of everyone. Allison, your mother, your friends...”
Derek’s hand comes up and his claws are out. Scott flinches back, both in fear and surprise at his display of mastery over his abilities.
“And when they see you--”
He rakes his claws over the net.
“Everything, falls, apart.”
The slashed threads flutter away from the head of the lacrosse stick, the net now in tatters. Derek tosses the ruined stick. Scott catches it. When he looks up, he’s alone, Derek having vanished yet again.
-----
Bursting through the front door of the McCall’s home, Stiles sprints up the stairs towards Scott’s bedroom. Chuckling to myself I close the door behind me and head the same way.
“Hey Ms. McCall!” I shout
“Hey sweetie!”
As Stiles bursts through Scott’s door and into his room I can already hear him shouting about the news. Scott called me with an update on the body, said there was some evidence at Derek’s and we needed to get over there as soon as we could.
I greet Scott with a wave as I follow Stiles into the room. At his desk, Scott works on something, concentrating on it with exact focus
“I found something at Derek Hale’s,” he starts
Still full of energy, Stiles shouts, “Are you kidding? What?”
“Something’s buried there. I smelled blood.”
Interjecting, I ask, "You think it’s from the body?”
“That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. And when we do, we’re going to help your dad nail Derek for the murder. And then we're figure out how I can play lacrosse without changing.”
Scott stands, revealing what he’s been working on so intently: his lacrosse stick. Now perfectly re-laced, he spins it in his hands with a look of pride.
“Because I’m not missing out on that game”
-----
The doors of Beacon Hills Hospital slide open. Stiles, Scott, and I casually walk past the front desk trying not to be conspicuous in front of waiting patients, nurses and orderlies. Stiles nods to a set of double doors and a sign pointing to the morgue; exactly what we need. While Scott and I quickly push through the doors, Stiles heads to the waiting area to keep an eye out.
As Scott and I step inside the almost pitch-black freezer room, he lights the display on his phone using it to search the labels on the drawer.
“Why’d you leave the lights off, this place is mega creepy!” I whisper to him. “Who decides to leave the lights off when they’re around a bunch of dead bodies?”
“Would you keep it down? You’re gonna get us caught!” Scott says as he finally located the body.
JANE DOE – partial. Police Evidence, Do Not Tamper.
We both take a breath as Scott yanks open the display.
-----
Standing outside in the corridor, Stiles looks to the waiting area and does a double take. Lydia Martin sits in one of the chairs. It’s a moment of opportunity he simply cannot pass up. Leaving his post, he tentatively approaches her.
“Hey, Lydia. You probably don’t remember me, but I sit behind you in Biology. And I know you’re dating Jackson and all that, but I always thought we had a kind of connection. Unspoken, of course. But I sort of think it would be cool to get to know you. Sort of.”
“Hold on. Give me a second.”
Stiles looks at her, quite confused. But then she pulls out a Bluetooth headset that was covered by her hair.
“I didn’t get any of what you just said. Is it worth repeating?”
“Uh... No. Sorry.”
As she gives an irritated sigh, Stiles takes a seat far away from her, head falling into his hand.
-----
Scott covers his mouth while gazing down at the lower half of the body. He slowly pulls the drawer open to where the sheet finally flattens out just above the severed hip. The smell coming from the body is absolutely putrid and I can tell his face is getting greener by the second.
“Don’t throw up on the body,” I joke.
Removing his hand from his mouth, Scott sends me a lighthearted glare and then pulls the sheet up to reveal the decayed and rotted feet. Then, unable to stand anymore, the sight or the smell, he covers up the body and slides the drawer shut. We’ve found all we need.
-----
Back in the waiting room, Jackson comes around the corner to find Lydia. He walks up to her while massaging his shoulder.
“Did he do it?”
Nodding, Jackson replies, “He said it’s not a good habit to get into but one cortisone shot won’t kill me.”
“You should get one right before the game too.” He gives her a concerned look. “What? The pros do it all the time. You want to be a little high school amateur?” Teasingly, she continues, “Or do you want to go pro?”
She pulls him into a kiss that’s all tongue. As they walk off, Stiles watches with a jealous gaze from behind the pages of a hospital pamphlet.
-----
Walking back to the waiting room with Scott, I see Stiles holding up a pamphlet titled: All About Your Menstrual Cycle. Inconspicuous. Scott yanks it out of his hands, surprising him.
“The scent was the same.”
“You’re sure?”
Scott nods and starts off with the two of us following.
“So he did bury the other half of the body on his property,” Stiles confirms.
“Which means we have proof he killed the girl.”
“Then I say we use it.”
After watching the boys go back and forth I interject,
“Scott, are you doing this because you want to stop Derek? Or because you want to play the game Saturday and he said you couldn’t?”
“There were bite marks on the legs. Bite marks. And if he knows about Allison now...”
“Okay. Then we’re going to need a shovel.”
We slam through the exit door and out into the night.
-----
Derek’s black Dodge Challenger roars out from the long driveway leading to the dilapidated house. In its wake, Stile’s Jeep slowly pulls forward.
Now carrying a shovel and pick, Scott and Stiles head for the house while I hold the flashlight. But Scott pauses, glancing around.
“Something’s different,” Scott says while glancing around.
“Different how?”
But Scott shakes his head. He looks back to the road, listening for any sounds.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Unnerved now as well, Stiles and I follow him around the house to the edge of the woods. Waving him over, Scott kicks at the dirt on the ground. It’s loose, gravelly. They start digging. Piles of dirt landing on the grass nearby while I keep watch. They work fast, Scott pulling up his sleeves as sweat starts to drip down his forehead while the two start bickering.
“This is taking too long,” Scott complains.
“Just keep going,” Stiles replies.
“What if he comes back?”
“Then we get the hell out of here."
“What if he catches us?”
“I have a plan for that.”
Now sitting down next to the hole they’ve dug, I interlude,
“Ah yes, Stiles Stilinski with the genius plans.”
“Oh shut up Y/N”
“Well, what’s the plan then,”
“I run one way, you both run another. Whoever he catches first? Too bad.”
Scoffing, Scott says, “I hate that plan.’
They dig faster, harder. Muscles burning, Scott keeps throwing nervous glances to the driveway.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Stiles shouts.
Dropping the shovel, Stiles clambers down into the hole. He feels around and finds a dark FABRIC in the dirt. Both of them now digging with their hands they finally uncover a black drawstring bag tied in tight knots. Stiles digs at the knot with his fingers.
“Hurry,” Scott urges.
“I’m trying. Did he have to tie the thing in nine hundred knots?"
“I’ll do it.”
Both of them claw at the drawstring, almost frantically trying to get the knot to come undone. And then finally it loosens. The black bag flutters open to reveal the body inside--
Except it’s not a dead girl. It’s the body of a wolf. Stiles and Scott both holler, jumping back.
Poking the carcass with a stick, Stiles asks, “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a wolf.”
“I can see that. I thought you said you smelled blood? As in human blood?”
“I told you something was different.”
Scott pulls back the edge of the bag to get a better look. The remains of the wolf peer through, a tangle of legs and blood-crusted fur.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
Still looking around nervously, Scott urges, “We gotta get out of here.”
While the boys talked, I had gotten up to look around the area. Suddenly I notice a purple flower in the ground. It sticks out of the dirt as if it had only recently been planted there.
“Wait,” I call to them.
Looking up, Stiles sees what I’m looking at.
“Do you see that flower?”
“What about it,” Scott wonders.
“I think it’s wolfsbane.”
“Wolfsbane?”
I look back towards the duo as Scott has a confused look on his face.
“Haven’t you ever seen The Wolf Man? Lon Chaney Jr.? Claude Rains? The original classic werewolf movie?” Stiles questions as Scott shakes his head. “You are so unprepared for this.”
"Aconitum napellus, or Wolfsbane, is a common known weapon against werewolves. It's toxins can cause your heartrate to slow to a fatal amount," I explain.
Kneeling next to the flower, I gently feel around the stem. Pulling it up, it’s revealed that the flower has sprouted out of what appears to be a very thin but strong twine interlaced from its stem and root.
Jumping out of the hole, Scott and Stiles take several cautious steps back as I continue unearthing the purple-flowered rope. Soil falling around my shoes, I walks in circles around the grave.
As I continue, the Wolfsbane rope leads back to the grave in an almost perfect spiral. Finally, at about ten yards out, I finally reach the end of the rope. With a pile gathered into my arms, I turn back to the boys who are staring back at the grave.
At barely a whisper, Scott says, “Look...”
The rope slips out of my hands, falling at my feet as my eyes widen. The wolf is no longer a wolf. It’s the upper half of the girl.
-----
Tag List: @linkpk88 @mochminnie @im-a-stranger-thing @that-winged-rat @avengersgirl1221 @everybirdfellsilent
A/N: I am absolutely KILLING IT with these updates. Expect a lot more coming up. Also I don't think I'm going to continue making three separate parts for pronouns whenever a part doesn't use any pronouns for the reader.
Any Pronouns
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: mentions of a dead body
“What do you mean you can’t play the game tomorrow night?” Coach asks as Scott follows him into his office.
“I mean I can’t play the game tomorrow night.”
“You mean you can’t wait to play the game tomorrow night?”
“No, I can’t play the game tomorrow night.”
“I’m not following.”
Scott sighs looking around the office. “I’m-- having some personal issues.”
Exasperated, Scott tries to continue; “No, Danny’s good looking. But I like girls. And that’s not it anyway--”
“Is it drugs? Are you doing meth? My brother was hooked on meth. You should have seen what it did to his teeth, all rotted and cracked. It was disgusting. He was a mess.”
Genuinely concerned, Scott asks, “What happened to him?”
“He got veneers. They look perfect now. Is, is that what this is about? Are you afraid of getting hurt McCall?”
“No. I’m just having some issues dealing with... aggression.”
“Well, here’s the good news, that’s exactly why you play lacrosse. Problem solved.”
“Coach. I can’t play the game.”
“Listen, McCall. Part of playing first line is taking on the responsibility of being the first line in the game. If you can’t shoulder that responsibility then you’re back on the bench until you’re ready.”
“If I don’t play the game, you’re taking me off first line?”
"McCall,” Coach says pointedly, “Play the game.”
-----
Stepping back into the corridor and into the rush of students, Scott jumps when his phone RINGS in his pocket. He takes it out to read a text message from his Mom:
Got the night off! Coming to see you play! So excited!!
Scott breathes a sigh of frustration. His phone BUZZES again with a second text from his Mom:
What does LMFAO mean?
He’s about to type back when he notices someone coming down the corridor to find him; Allison Argent. As she walks through the crowd, every teenage male eye seeming to follow her. But her perfect smile is reserved for Scott.
Nodding to his phone Allison asks, “Hey, you busy?”
“No. It’s just my Mom. She’s nothing. I mean it’s nothing. I’m never busy. For you.”
“I like the sound of that... I have to run to French class but I wanted you to know I’m coming to see you play tomorrow.”
“You are?”
“And we’re all going out afterwards. You, me, Lydia, Jackson. It’s going to be great. And bring Stiles too. Save me a seat at lunch, I’ve gotta go.”
Scott barely has a chance to nod as she hurries off. But just before she disappears into the rush of students, she smiles at him again. With a quick wave, she’s gone.
Scott slumps against the lockers muttering to himself, “I am so screwed.”
-----
Down the adjacent hall, Allison stops at her locker, quickly spins the combo, grabs her French book and suddenly stops when she notices something strange inside. Slowly, she pulls an item out, one that shouldn’t be there... her jacket from the party.
As she eases the locker shut, she notices how very alone she is in the corridor. She gazes down one end of the hall and then the other. Not a soul. Not a sound. Until--
The second bell rings, startling her. Breathing a short laugh at herself, she hurries off to class.
-----
At the chalkboard with other students solving algebra problems, Lydia whispers to Scott.
“Why is there a rumor going around that you’re not playing tomorrow?”
“Because I’m sort of... not.”
“I think you sort of are. Especially when you brutally injure my boyfriend by ramming into him.”
“He brutally injured himself ramming into me.”
The math teacher steps past, eyeing their work on the board.
“Jackson’s going to play Saturday, but he’s not going to be at peak. I prefer my boyfriend at peak performance.”
“Okay...” Scott responds, wondering if she’s still talking about lacrosse.
“See, I date the captain of a winning lacrosse team. If they start off the season losing, I date the captain of a losing lacrosse team. I don’t date losers. You understand how that works?”
“Losing one game isn’t going to kill anyone. In fact, it might save someone,” he argues back.
Lydia looks at him. Doesn’t get it. Doesn’t care. “Fine. Don’t play. We’ll probably win anyway. We’ll go out after like we’re planning. I’ll introduce Allison to all the other hot players on the team. And while she gets the attention she deserves, Scott McCall can stay home surfing the net for porn. "
She finishes her math problem, wipes the chalk off her hands and saunters back to her desk. Scott returns his attention to his own equation on the board.
The math teacher walks up behind him chastising, “Mr. McCall, you’re not even close to solving your problem.”
“Tell me about it,” Scott quips back.
-----
As Stiles and I turn the corner to the hall our next class is located, I see someone familiar talking to the vice principle.
“Wait-- is that Noah?” Grabbing the back of Stiles’s collar I drag him back behind the wall to hide us from view. Peeking around the corner, there Sheriff Stilinski standing in the middle of the hall having a seemingly serious conversation to the vice principle.
“I can’t hear them, what are they saying?” Stiles whines.
“I don’t know I don’t have super hearing.”
And as if a lightbulb went off in his head, Stiles bolts off looking for someone who does in fact have super hearing as I continue to keep an eye on the targets.
Hearing stomping footsteps behind me I turn around seeing an out of breath Stiles, Scott in tow.
“Come here, come here, tell me what they’re saying,” I ask Scott as the boys follow my gaze down the hall. I can see Scott focus, attempting to tune in the voices.
“...animal attacks... just don’t want the kids out... 9:30pm... institute the curfew....”
With a look of annoyance Scott turns back towards us.
“A curfew. Because of the body.”
Great.
“Unbelievable!” Stiles starts to complains, “Seriously unbelievable. My Dad’s out looking for a rabid animal while the jerkoff who actually killed the girl is just hanging out doing whatever he wants.”
Interjecting, I add, “Well, we can’t exactly tell him what’s going on with Derek. He’d want to do something about it.”
“Well, I’m gonna do something about it.”
“Like what?” Scott asks.
“Like find the other half of the body.”
And with that Stiles walks to his next class. Waving a bye to Scott I go catch up to him.
-----
Scott stops when he spots Allison shaking hands with an extremely good-looking lacrosse player. Lydia wears a big smile while introducing them while staring right at Scott.
Allison turns to see him approaching as Lydia and the lacrosse player slip away.
“So, Lydia’s introducing you to everyone?” Scott questions.
“Yeah, she’s been so unbelievably nice. Usually, the popular girls are totally evil when I move to a new place. But she’s making it really easy for me.”
“I wonder why.”
“Maybe she gets how much being the New Girl can suck.”
He’s about to reply when he notices with alarm that she’s carrying the jacket from party that Derek had.
"Where did you get that?”
“My jacket? It was in my locker. I think Lydia brought it back from the party. She has my combination--”
“Did she say she brought it back? Did someone give her the jacket?” Scott is starting to get more urgent; how did Derek get into her locker? Was he still here? Is Derek going to hurt Allison?
“Like who?"
“Like Derek."
“Your friend?”
“He’s not my friend. How much did you talk to him when he drove you home?”
“Not much at all.”
“What did you say?"
Allison can tell he’s getting more and more aggressive; cautiously she replies, "Sorry, but I have to get to my next class. Can we talk later?”
“Allison--”
“I really have to go.”
She hurries off, leaving Scott ruminating on the jacket. But then he turns, moving with focus, faster and faster--
-----
On his bike and pedaling at top speed, Scott charges down the road. Finally, he whips onto a driveway leading to the rundown Hale house.
“Derek!”
He lets his bike clatter to the ground, school bag with it. In a flash he’s on the porch, looking in each window.
“Derek!”
Still no response. Scott slips around the side of the house and to the back. Then something catches his attention-- At the edge of the woods, he sees FRESH DIRT covering the ground. As if something had been dug up. Or buried.
But before he can approach, a sound stops him in his tracks... a heartbeat. At first, it’s a tiny rhythm in the distance. But then it rapidly gets louder, stronger. Scott starts to back away, moving for the front of the house again and for his bike when Derek steps out of the woods. No sudden appearance, no theatrics. He just calmly walks out of the shadows while Scott tries to stand strong.
“Stay away from her. She doesn’t know anything.”
“What if she does?”
Derek keeps coming, backing Scott away from the house.
“You think your little buddy Stiles can Google werewolves and now you’ve got all the answers?”
Reaching down to Scott’s school bag, Derek picks up the lacrosse stick, playfully turning it over in his hands.
“You don’t get it yet, but I’m looking out for you. Think about what could happen. You’re on the
field. The aggression takes over. And you shift in front of everyone. Allison, your mother, your friends...”
Derek’s hand comes up and his claws are out. Scott flinches back, both in fear and surprise at his display of mastery over his abilities.
“And when they see you--”
He rakes his claws over the net.
“Everything, falls, apart.”
The slashed threads flutter away from the head of the lacrosse stick, the net now in tatters. Derek tosses the ruined stick. Scott catches it. When he looks up, he’s alone, Derek having vanished yet again.
-----
Bursting through the front door of the McCall’s home, Stiles sprints up the stairs towards Scott’s bedroom. Chuckling to myself I close the door behind me and head the same way.
“Hey Ms. McCall!” I shout
“Hey sweetie!”
As Stiles bursts through Scott’s door and into his room I can already hear him shouting about the news. Scott called me with an update on the body, said there was some evidence at Derek’s and we needed to get over there as soon as we could.
I greet Scott with a wave as I follow Stiles into the room. At his desk, Scott works on something, concentrating on it with exact focus
“I found something at Derek Hale’s,” he starts
Still full of energy, Stiles shouts, “Are you kidding? What?”
“Something’s buried there. I smelled blood.”
Interjecting, I ask, "You think it’s from the body?”
“That’s what I need you guys to help me find out. And when we do, we’re going to help your dad nail Derek for the murder. And then we're figure out how I can play lacrosse without changing.”
Scott stands, revealing what he’s been working on so intently: his lacrosse stick. Now perfectly re-laced, he spins it in his hands with a look of pride.
“Because I’m not missing out on that game”
-----
The doors of Beacon Hills Hospital slide open. Stiles, Scott, and I casually walk past the front desk trying not to be conspicuous in front of waiting patients, nurses and orderlies. Stiles nods to a set of double doors and a sign pointing to the morgue; exactly what we need. While Scott and I quickly push through the doors, Stiles heads to the waiting area to keep an eye out.
As Scott and I step inside the almost pitch-black freezer room, he lights the display on his phone using it to search the labels on the drawer.
“Why’d you leave the lights off, this place is mega creepy!” I whisper to him. “Who decides to leave the lights off when they’re around a bunch of dead bodies?”
“Would you keep it down? You’re gonna get us caught!” Scott says as he finally located the body.
JANE DOE – partial. Police Evidence, Do Not Tamper.
We both take a breath as Scott yanks open the display.
-----
Standing outside in the corridor, Stiles looks to the waiting area and does a double take. Lydia Martin sits in one of the chairs. It’s a moment of opportunity he simply cannot pass up. Leaving his post, he tentatively approaches her.
“Hey, Lydia. You probably don’t remember me, but I sit behind you in Biology. And I know you’re dating Jackson and all that, but I always thought we had a kind of connection. Unspoken, of course. But I sort of think it would be cool to get to know you. Sort of.”
“Hold on. Give me a second.”
Stiles looks at her, quite confused. But then she pulls out a Bluetooth headset that was covered by her hair.
“I didn’t get any of what you just said. Is it worth repeating?”
“Uh... No. Sorry.”
As she gives an irritated sigh, Stiles takes a seat far away from her, head falling into his hand.
-----
Scott covers his mouth while gazing down at the lower half of the body. He slowly pulls the drawer open to where the sheet finally flattens out just above the severed hip. The smell coming from the body is absolutely putrid and I can tell his face is getting greener by the second.
“Don’t throw up on the body,” I joke.
Removing his hand from his mouth, Scott sends me a lighthearted glare and then pulls the sheet up to reveal the decayed and rotted feet. Then, unable to stand anymore, the sight or the smell, he covers up the body and slides the drawer shut. We’ve found all we need.
-----
Back in the waiting room, Jackson comes around the corner to find Lydia. He walks up to her while massaging his shoulder.
“Did he do it?”
Nodding, Jackson replies, “He said it’s not a good habit to get into but one cortisone shot won’t kill me.”
“You should get one right before the game too.” He gives her a concerned look. “What? The pros do it all the time. You want to be a little high school amateur?” Teasingly, she continues, “Or do you want to go pro?”
She pulls him into a kiss that’s all tongue. As they walk off, Stiles watches with a jealous gaze from behind the pages of a hospital pamphlet.
-----
Walking back to the waiting room with Scott, I see Stiles holding up a pamphlet titled: All About Your Menstrual Cycle. Inconspicuous. Scott yanks it out of his hands, surprising him.
“The scent was the same.”
“You’re sure?”
Scott nods and starts off with the two of us following.
“So he did bury the other half of the body on his property,” Stiles confirms.
“Which means we have proof he killed the girl.”
“Then I say we use it.”
After watching the boys go back and forth I interject,
“Scott, are you doing this because you want to stop Derek? Or because you want to play the game Saturday and he said you couldn’t?”
“There were bite marks on the legs. Bite marks. And if he knows about Allison now...”
“Okay. Then we’re going to need a shovel.”
We slam through the exit door and out into the night.
-----
Derek’s black Dodge Challenger roars out from the long driveway leading to the dilapidated house. In its wake, Stile’s Jeep slowly pulls forward.
Now carrying a shovel and pick, Scott and Stiles head for the house while I hold the flashlight. But Scott pauses, glancing around.
“Something’s different,” Scott says while glancing around.
“Different how?”
But Scott shakes his head. He looks back to the road, listening for any sounds.
“Let’s get this over with.”
Unnerved now as well, Stiles and I follow him around the house to the edge of the woods. Waving him over, Scott kicks at the dirt on the ground. It’s loose, gravelly. They start digging. Piles of dirt landing on the grass nearby while I keep watch. They work fast, Scott pulling up his sleeves as sweat starts to drip down his forehead while the two start bickering.
“This is taking too long,” Scott complains.
“Just keep going,” Stiles replies.
“What if he comes back?”
“Then we get the hell out of here."
“What if he catches us?”
“I have a plan for that.”
Now sitting down next to the hole they’ve dug, I interlude,
“Ah yes, Stiles Stilinski with the genius plans.”
“Oh shut up Y/N”
“Well, what’s the plan then,”
“I run one way, you both run another. Whoever he catches first? Too bad.”
Scoffing, Scott says, “I hate that plan.’
They dig faster, harder. Muscles burning, Scott keeps throwing nervous glances to the driveway.
“Stop, stop, stop!” Stiles shouts.
Dropping the shovel, Stiles clambers down into the hole. He feels around and finds a dark FABRIC in the dirt. Both of them now digging with their hands they finally uncover a black drawstring bag tied in tight knots. Stiles digs at the knot with his fingers.
“Hurry,” Scott urges.
“I’m trying. Did he have to tie the thing in nine hundred knots?"
“I’ll do it.”
Both of them claw at the drawstring, almost frantically trying to get the knot to come undone. And then finally it loosens. The black bag flutters open to reveal the body inside--
Except it’s not a dead girl. It’s the body of a wolf. Stiles and Scott both holler, jumping back.
Poking the carcass with a stick, Stiles asks, “What the hell is that?”
“It’s a wolf.”
“I can see that. I thought you said you smelled blood? As in human blood?”
“I told you something was different.”
Scott pulls back the edge of the bag to get a better look. The remains of the wolf peer through, a tangle of legs and blood-crusted fur.
“This doesn’t make sense.”
Still looking around nervously, Scott urges, “We gotta get out of here.”
While the boys talked, I had gotten up to look around the area. Suddenly I notice a purple flower in the ground. It sticks out of the dirt as if it had only recently been planted there.
“Wait,” I call to them.
Looking up, Stiles sees what I’m looking at.
“Do you see that flower?”
“What about it,” Scott wonders.
“I think it’s wolfsbane.”
“Wolfsbane?”
I look back towards the duo as Scott has a confused look on his face.
“Haven’t you ever seen The Wolf Man? Lon Chaney Jr.? Claude Rains? The original classic werewolf movie?” Stiles questions as Scott shakes his head. “You are so unprepared for this.”
"Aconitum napellus, or Wolfsbane, is a common known weapon against werewolves. It's toxins can cause your heartrate to slow to a fatal amount," I explain.
Kneeling next to the flower, I gently feel around the stem. Pulling it up, it’s revealed that the flower has sprouted out of what appears to be a very thin but strong twine interlaced from its stem and root.
Jumping out of the hole, Scott and Stiles take several cautious steps back as I continue unearthing the purple-flowered rope. Soil falling around my shoes, I walks in circles around the grave.
As I continue, the Wolfsbane rope leads back to the grave in an almost perfect spiral. Finally, at about ten yards out, I finally reach the end of the rope. With a pile gathered into my arms, I turn back to the boys who are staring back at the grave.
At barely a whisper, Scott says, “Look...”
The rope slips out of my hands, falling at my feet as my eyes widen. The wolf is no longer a wolf. It’s the upper half of the girl.
-----
Tag List: @linkpk88 @mochminnie @im-a-stranger-thing @that-winged-rat @avengersgirl1221 @everybirdfellsilent
A/N: I AM BACK!! Got back into my Teen Wolf interest so will be writing a LOT MORE soon so look forward to that!! :D Also apologies there's not as much reader in this one, I didn't want to shove them into the plot-line but deffo more in the future :]
They/Them Pronouns Version
He/Him Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: none
Walking into the boys Lacrosse locker room, Scott slowly drops his bag in front of his locker, gloves falling to the floor next to it. He seems to be moving in a trance. Turns, back against the locker, his eyes look over the crowd of teammates staring in shock.
Stiles pokes his head out from around the corner.
“You apologize to Allison?” He questions.
“Yeah.”
“So she’s giving you a second chance or..?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah! Alright! So everything’s good?”
“No.”
“No?”
Giving a heavy sigh, Scott explains his dilemma to his friend “Remember the hunters? Her dad is one of them.”
“Her dad?”
“Shot me...”
“Allison’s father?” Stiles seems shocked to hear this new information.
“...With a crossbow.”
“Allison’s--“
“YES. HER FATHER!” Speaking louder than necessary, his voice carries across the locker room and a few heads turn to see the commotion. Scott snaps out of the daze and into a full on panic. “Oh my God, oh my Godddd. What am I going to do?”
“No, Scott. Snap back. Ok?” He lightly tapped the side of Scott’s face trying to bring him back in focus. “Okay, okay--did he recognize you?”
“No, I don’t think so--“
“Does she know about him?”
“I- I don’t know, what if she does?” Scott’s face contorts in anguish as he realizes how much danger he could be in. “This is gonna kill me man.”
“All right, okay, we’ll figure it out. Just--just focus on lacrosse. Take this, take this,” Stiles begins picking up his practice pads and handing them to his friend. “Just focus on lacrosse for now, that’s all you’ve got to do.” Now patting him on the arm, emphasizing every word, Stiles tries his best to help Scott’s panic. “Here, we, go.”
—————
A whistle rings throughout the field.
“Let’s go!” Coach Finstock yells as the players slam into each other during practice. “One-on-one from up top!”
As Jackson jogs towards the bleachers Coach calls his name.
“Jackson, take a long stick today... Attaboy.”
Coach Finstock tosses the ball to the first player, a kid named Greenberg. But Jackson is on him in seconds, smashing his stick down on the poor kid’s gloves, sending the ball flying out of the pocket.
“Nicely done, Jackson,” Coach praises. “Greenberg, that was a pathetic display of amateur ability. Do a lap.”
As Greenberg takes off into a run, the next Player charges. Scott, gazing off with far too many thoughts swirling in his head, doesn’t notice the other players backing up behind him.
“McCall, what’re your waiting for. Let’s go!”
He snaps to attention, realizing he’s at the head of the line. Coach tosses the ball. Scott goes for the shot. Running towards the goal, Jackson steps up to meet him half way and slams into Scott. A moment later he lands on the ground with a sickening thud. Coach is walking over to where Scott lays stunned on the ground.
Chuckling he asks, “Hey McCall, Hey McCall!”
As the werewolf looks towards the sky, he cradles his forearm where Jackson’s stick came down especially hard between his glove and elbow pad.
“You sure you still want to be first line, McCall,” Jackson taunts.
Gritting his teeth in anger, Scott looks up to see Jackson walking away.
“McCall, my grandmother can move faster than that and she’s dead! Can you move faster than the... lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother, McCall?”
Now seething in his rage, Scotts reveals his brown eyes which are rapidly brightening to yellow. “Yes, Coach.”
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes Coach!” He says slightly louder.
“Then do it again.” As Scott jogs back to the front of the line, Coach calls to the rest of the team. “McCalls gonna do it again!”
The whistle blows and Scott shoots forward again as Coach tosses the ball to him. Stiles steps away from the rest of the team, noticing the change in Scott. His speed, the extraordinary agility with which he moves.
An oblivious Jackson goes for a cross check, heading for Scott with his stick horizontal even as the smaller boy hurtles toward him with ferocious speed.
They collide like two goats locking horns. Both go down, Jackson hollering as he hits the ground.
The sickening sound of bone dislodging from socket sends a cringe through Coach. While everyone else runs over to check on Jackson, Stiles hurries to Scott’s side.
“Are you okay?”
But Scott won’t lift his head, won’t reveal his face to Stiles underneath the helmet.
“Scott?”
His head tilts up to reveal the sharpened teeth jutting out from his lower jaw.
“It’s happening. I can’t control it.“
“Come, on. Now? Get up, get up.”
Grabbing him by the shoulder pads, Stiles pulls him up. As Stiles drags him off the field and toward the lockers, neither of them notice someone watching from the sidelines... Derek Hale.
—————
The door to the darkened locker room clangs open, Stiles dragging a hunched over Scott inside.
“Get back,” Scott warns.
“I’m just trying to help--“
“Get away from me!”
His voice comes out with a frighteningly demonic rasp, head snapping around as if to rip out the other boy’s throat.
Stiles retreats, almost stumbling over his own feet at the sight of Scott’s eyes. The sounds coming from him are painful, animalistic and frighteningly aggressive.
Turning back, Scott doubles over in pain. He tears off his lacrosse gloves to reveal his sharpened claws.
Stiles keeps stepping away in fear, accidentally backing into a fire extinguisher against the wall.
The clang of metal causes Scott to whip his head around. But it’s no longer Scott under that helmet or behind those rage-filled yellow eyes.
He hurtles toward Stiles, rounding the corner of the lockers, jumping onto the wood bench and up as Stiles lifts the fire extinguisher and pulls the trigger, blasting CO2 from the nozzle. Scott’s clawed hands come up to shield his face, plumes of white surrounding him.
Darting around another corner, Stiles backs against the lockers, waiting for the next attack.
“Stiles?”
Slowly, Stiles peers around the locker row to see Scott on the floor, chest heaving with each difficult breath. He pulls the helmet off to reveal he’s back to normal. Face drenched with sweat.
“What happened?”
“You tried to kill me.”
Stiles drops the extinguisher to the floor. Still shaking and unable to conceal his anger at his friend.
“It’s like I told you. It’s the anger, your pulse rising. They’re all triggers.”
“But that’s lacrosse. It’s a pretty violent game if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, its gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field. You can’t play Saturday. You have to get out of the game.”
“But I’m first line.”
“Not anymore.”
—————
An emotionally and physically exhausted Scott tosses his school bag on the floor and falls face first onto the bed. Melissa McCall looks in.
“Late shift again for me, but I’m taking a night off to see your first game.”
“Mom, you can’t.”
“I can and I will. One shift won’t break us. Not completely. And what’s wrong with your eyes?”
Scott glances up in alarm.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Oh. It’s nothing. Just kind of stressed.”
“Just stress? Nothing else? You’re not on drugs or anything?”
“Right now?”
“Right now?! What do you mean right now? Have you ever taken drugs?”
“Have you?”
A question she clearly doesn’t want to answer.
“Get some sleep.”
Car keys in hand, Melissa leaves.
Scott drags himself up from the bed and hits the mouse on his computer. The moment it wakes, a web chat invitation from Stiles pops up. Scott hits accept and Stiles and James appeared in the voice call.
—————
As Scott pops up on my screen, Stiles spins around in his chair holding a nerf gun, shooting at the camera.
“You’re such a nerd Stiles,” I chide.
Defending himself, he mocks back. “You’re such a nerd Stiles”
Interrupting our tom-foolery, Scott asks, “What’d you find out?”
“It’s bad,” I warn, “Jackson’s got a separated shoulder.”
“Because of me?”
“Oh please,” Stiles says. “It’s because he’s a tool. It’s not your fault.”
“Is he going to play?”
Relaying what Coach told me earlier, I tell the boys “They don’t know yet. But now they’re all counting on you for Saturday.”
As Scott sighs, Stiles leans closer to the web cam window, squinting his eyes at it. He seems to be looking at something in Scott’s room.
“What?”
A text window pops up the screen and Stiles types:
It looks like--
Scott’s screen starts lagging and a notification comes up across his screen saying he has a bad connection. As I zoom in on Scott’s image trying to see what Stiles is talking about, I finally see it. A dark shadow is standing behind him in his room. Leaping from my chair, I run to Stiles room and slam open the door. Pulling up a chair next to him, I meet his face full of worry as Scott’s screen continues to load.
—————
The cursor turns into a spinning wheel, the computer momentarily hung up. Stiles’s web cam image freezes.
“Looks like what?”
A moment later, the cursor finally stops spinning and the rest of the text appears:
It looks like someone’s behind you.
Scott stops breathing. He doesn’t turn around.
Staying very still, his eyes move to his own image in the bottom corner of the web cam window. He slowly clicks the mouse, re-sizing the window, making it larger and larger until he sees his own reflected face, an expression of pure fear on it. And behind him a strange silhouette. Someone is standing there in the shadows of his room.
Scott spins around and Derek grabs him, yanking him away from the desk, sending the laptop clattering to the floor. Dragging him up, he slams Scott face first to the wall.
“I saw you on the field.”
”What? What are you talking--“
“You shifted in front of them. If they find out what you are, they find out about me. About all of us. Then it’s not just hunters after us. It’s everyone.”
“But they didn’t, didn't see anything. I swear--“
“And they won’t. Because if you try to play that game Saturday...” Derek comes terrifyingly close, right next to Scott’s ear.
“I’ll kill you myself.”
He pulls Scott from the wall and sends him tumbling across the room. When Scott looks up from the floor, Derek is gone.
The bedroom window lies open where he must have leapt with incredible speed, leaving Scott alone in his room. And shaking in fear...
—————
Tag List: @linkpk88 @mochminnie @im-a-stranger-thing @that-winged-rat @avengersgirl1221
A/N: I AM BACK!! Got back into my Teen Wolf interest so will be writing a LOT MORE soon so look forward to that!! :D Also apologies there's not as much reader in this one, I didn't want to shove them into the plot-line but deffo more in the future :]
She/Her Pronouns Version
He/Him Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: none
Walking into the boys Lacrosse locker room, Scott slowly drops his bag in front of his locker, gloves falling to the floor next to it. He seems to be moving in a trance. Turns, back against the locker, his eyes look over the crowd of teammates staring in shock.
Stiles pokes his head out from around the corner.
“You apologize to Allison?” He questions.
“Yeah.”
“So she’s giving you a second chance or..?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah! Alright! So everything’s good?”
“No.”
“No?”
Giving a heavy sigh, Scott explains his dilemma to his friend “Remember the hunters? Her dad is one of them.”
“Her dad?”
“Shot me...”
“Allison’s father?” Stiles seems shocked to hear this new information.
“...With a crossbow.”
“Allison’s--“
“YES. HER FATHER!” Speaking louder than necessary, his voice carries across the locker room and a few heads turn to see the commotion. Scott snaps out of the daze and into a full on panic. “Oh my God, oh my Godddd. What am I going to do?”
“No, Scott. Snap back. Ok?” He lightly tapped the side of Scott’s face trying to bring him back in focus. “Okay, okay--did he recognize you?”
“No, I don’t think so--“
“Does she know about him?”
“I- I don’t know, what if she does?” Scott’s face contorts in anguish as he realizes how much danger he could be in. “This is gonna kill me man.”
“All right, okay, we’ll figure it out. Just--just focus on lacrosse. Take this, take this,” Stiles begins picking up his practice pads and handing them to his friend. “Just focus on lacrosse for now, that’s all you’ve got to do.” Now patting him on the arm, emphasizing every word, Stiles tries his best to help Scott’s panic. “Here, we, go.”
—————
A whistle rings throughout the field.
“Let’s go!” Coach Finstock yells as the players slam into each other during practice. “One-on-one from up top!”
As Jackson jogs towards the bleachers Coach calls his name.
“Jackson, take a long stick today... Attaboy.”
Coach Finstock tosses the ball to the first player, a kid named Greenberg. But Jackson is on him in seconds, smashing his stick down on the poor kid’s gloves, sending the ball flying out of the pocket.
“Nicely done, Jackson,” Coach praises. “Greenberg, that was a pathetic display of amateur ability. Do a lap.”
As Greenberg takes off into a run, the next Player charges. Scott, gazing off with far too many thoughts swirling in his head, doesn’t notice the other players backing up behind him.
“McCall, what’re your waiting for. Let’s go!”
He snaps to attention, realizing he’s at the head of the line. Coach tosses the ball. Scott goes for the shot. Running towards the goal, Jackson steps up to meet him half way and slams into Scott. A moment later he lands on the ground with a sickening thud. Coach is walking over to where Scott lays stunned on the ground.
Chuckling he asks, “Hey McCall, Hey McCall!”
As the werewolf looks towards the sky, he cradles his forearm where Jackson’s stick came down especially hard between his glove and elbow pad.
“You sure you still want to be first line, McCall,” Jackson taunts.
Gritting his teeth in anger, Scott looks up to see Jackson walking away.
“McCall, my grandmother can move faster than that and she’s dead! Can you move faster than the... lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother, McCall?”
Now seething in his rage, Scotts reveals his brown eyes which are rapidly brightening to yellow. “Yes, Coach.”
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes Coach!” He says slightly louder.
“Then do it again.” As Scott jogs back to the front of the line, Coach calls to the rest of the team. “McCalls gonna do it again!”
The whistle blows and Scott shoots forward again as Coach tosses the ball to him. Stiles steps away from the rest of the team, noticing the change in Scott. His speed, the extraordinary agility with which he moves.
An oblivious Jackson goes for a cross check, heading for Scott with his stick horizontal even as the smaller boy hurtles toward him with ferocious speed.
They collide like two goats locking horns. Both go down, Jackson hollering as he hits the ground.
The sickening sound of bone dislodging from socket sends a cringe through Coach. While everyone else runs over to check on Jackson, Stiles hurries to Scott’s side.
“Are you okay?”
But Scott won’t lift his head, won’t reveal his face to Stiles underneath the helmet.
“Scott?”
His head tilts up to reveal the sharpened teeth jutting out from his lower jaw.
“It’s happening. I can’t control it.“
“Come, on. Now? Get up, get up.”
Grabbing him by the shoulder pads, Stiles pulls him up. As Stiles drags him off the field and toward the lockers, neither of them notice someone watching from the sidelines... Derek Hale.
—————
The door to the darkened locker room clangs open, Stiles dragging a hunched over Scott inside.
“Get back,” Scott warns.
“I’m just trying to help--“
“Get away from me!”
His voice comes out with a frighteningly demonic rasp, head snapping around as if to rip out the other boy’s throat.
Stiles retreats, almost stumbling over his own feet at the sight of Scott’s eyes. The sounds coming from him are painful, animalistic and frighteningly aggressive.
Turning back, Scott doubles over in pain. He tears off his lacrosse gloves to reveal his sharpened claws.
Stiles keeps stepping away in fear, accidentally backing into a fire extinguisher against the wall.
The clang of metal causes Scott to whip his head around. But it’s no longer Scott under that helmet or behind those rage-filled yellow eyes.
He hurtles toward Stiles, rounding the corner of the lockers, jumping onto the wood bench and up as Stiles lifts the fire extinguisher and pulls the trigger, blasting CO2 from the nozzle. Scott’s clawed hands come up to shield his face, plumes of white surrounding him.
Darting around another corner, Stiles backs against the lockers, waiting for the next attack.
“Stiles?”
Slowly, Stiles peers around the locker row to see Scott on the floor, chest heaving with each difficult breath. He pulls the helmet off to reveal he’s back to normal. Face drenched with sweat.
“What happened?”
“You tried to kill me.”
Stiles drops the extinguisher to the floor. Still shaking and unable to conceal his anger at his friend.
“It’s like I told you. It’s the anger, your pulse rising. They’re all triggers.”
“But that’s lacrosse. It’s a pretty violent game if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, its gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field. You can’t play Saturday. You have to get out of the game.”
“But I’m first line.”
“Not anymore.”
—————
An emotionally and physically exhausted Scott tosses his school bag on the floor and falls face first onto the bed. Melissa McCall looks in.
“Late shift again for me, but I’m taking a night off to see your first game.”
“Mom, you can’t.”
“I can and I will. One shift won’t break us. Not completely. And what’s wrong with your eyes?”
Scott glances up in alarm.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Oh. It’s nothing. Just kind of stressed.”
“Just stress? Nothing else? You’re not on drugs or anything?”
“Right now?”
“Right now?! What do you mean right now? Have you ever taken drugs?”
“Have you?”
A question she clearly doesn’t want to answer.
“Get some sleep.”
Car keys in hand, Melissa leaves.
Scott drags himself up from the bed and hits the mouse on his computer. The moment it wakes, a web chat invitation from Stiles pops up. Scott hits accept and Stiles and James appeared in the voice call.
—————
As Scott pops up on my screen, Stiles spins around in his chair holding a nerf gun, shooting at the camera.
“You’re such a nerd Stiles,” I chide.
Defending himself, he mocks back. “You’re such a nerd Stiles”
Interrupting our tom-foolery, Scott asks, “What’d you find out?”
“It’s bad,” I warn, “Jackson’s got a separated shoulder.”
“Because of me?”
“Oh please,” Stiles says. “It’s because he’s a tool. It’s not your fault.”
“Is he going to play?”
Relaying what Coach told me earlier, I tell the boys “They don’t know yet. But now they’re all counting on you for Saturday.”
As Scott sighs, Stiles leans closer to the web cam window, squinting his eyes at it. He seems to be looking at something in Scott’s room.
“What?”
A text window pops up the screen and Stiles types:
It looks like--
Scott’s screen starts lagging and a notification comes up across his screen saying he has a bad connection. As I zoom in on Scott’s image trying to see what Stiles is talking about, I finally see it. A dark shadow is standing behind him in his room. Leaping from my chair, I run to Stiles room and slam open the door. Pulling up a chair next to him, I meet his face full of worry as Scott’s screen continues to load.
—————
The cursor turns into a spinning wheel, the computer momentarily hung up. Stiles’s web cam image freezes.
“Looks like what?”
A moment later, the cursor finally stops spinning and the rest of the text appears:
It looks like someone’s behind you.
Scott stops breathing. He doesn’t turn around.
Staying very still, his eyes move to his own image in the bottom corner of the web cam window. He slowly clicks the mouse, re-sizing the window, making it larger and larger until he sees his own reflected face, an expression of pure fear on it. And behind him a strange silhouette. Someone is standing there in the shadows of his room.
Scott spins around and Derek grabs him, yanking him away from the desk, sending the laptop clattering to the floor. Dragging him up, he slams Scott face first to the wall.
“I saw you on the field.”
”What? What are you talking--“
“You shifted in front of them. If they find out what you are, they find out about me. About all of us. Then it’s not just hunters after us. It’s everyone.”
“But they didn’t, didn't see anything. I swear--“
“And they won’t. Because if you try to play that game Saturday...” Derek comes terrifyingly close, right next to Scott’s ear.
“I’ll kill you myself.”
He pulls Scott from the wall and sends him tumbling across the room. When Scott looks up from the floor, Derek is gone.
The bedroom window lies open where he must have leapt with incredible speed, leaving Scott alone in his room. And shaking in fear...
A/N: I AM BACK!! Got back into my Teen Wolf interest so will be writing a LOT MORE soon so look forward to that!! :D Also apologies there's not as much reader in this one, I didn't want to shove them into the plot-line but deffo more in the future :]
She/Her Pronouns Version
They/Them Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: none
Walking into the boys Lacrosse locker room, Scott slowly drops his bag in front of his locker, gloves falling to the floor next to it. He seems to be moving in a trance. Turns, back against the locker, his eyes look over the crowd of teammates staring in shock.
Stiles pokes his head out from around the corner.
“You apologize to Allison?” He questions.
“Yeah.”
“So she’s giving you a second chance or..?”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah! Alright! So everything’s good?”
“No.”
“No?”
Giving a heavy sigh, Scott explains his dilemma to his friend “Remember the hunters? Her dad is one of them.”
“Her dad?”
“Shot me...”
“Allison’s father?” Stiles seems shocked to hear this new information.
“...With a crossbow.”
“Allison’s--“
“YES. HER FATHER!” Speaking louder than necessary, his voice carries across the locker room and a few heads turn to see the commotion. Scott snaps out of the daze and into a full on panic. “Oh my God, oh my Godddd. What am I going to do?”
“No, Scott. Snap back. Ok?” He lightly tapped the side of Scott’s face trying to bring him back in focus. “Okay, okay--did he recognize you?”
“No, I don’t think so--“
“Does she know about him?”
“I- I don’t know, what if she does?” Scott’s face contorts in anguish as he realizes how much danger he could be in. “This is gonna kill me man.”
“All right, okay, we’ll figure it out. Just--just focus on lacrosse. Take this, take this,” Stiles begins picking up his practice pads and handing them to his friend. “Just focus on lacrosse for now, that’s all you’ve got to do.” Now patting him on the arm, emphasizing every word, Stiles tries his best to help Scott’s panic. “Here, we, go.”
—————
A whistle rings throughout the field.
“Let’s go!” Coach Finstock yells as the players slam into each other during practice. “One-on-one from up top!”
As Jackson jogs towards the bleachers Coach calls his name.
“Jackson, take a long stick today... Attaboy.”
Coach Finstock tosses the ball to the first player, a kid named Greenberg. But Jackson is on him in seconds, smashing his stick down on the poor kid’s gloves, sending the ball flying out of the pocket.
“Nicely done, Jackson,” Coach praises. “Greenberg, that was a pathetic display of amateur ability. Do a lap.”
As Greenberg takes off into a run, the next Player charges. Scott, gazing off with far too many thoughts swirling in his head, doesn’t notice the other players backing up behind him.
“McCall, what’re your waiting for. Let’s go!”
He snaps to attention, realizing he’s at the head of the line. Coach tosses the ball. Scott goes for the shot. Running towards the goal, Jackson steps up to meet him half way and slams into Scott. A moment later he lands on the ground with a sickening thud. Coach is walking over to where Scott lays stunned on the ground.
Chuckling he asks, “Hey McCall, Hey McCall!”
As the werewolf looks towards the sky, he cradles his forearm where Jackson’s stick came down especially hard between his glove and elbow pad.
“You sure you still want to be first line, McCall,” Jackson taunts.
Gritting his teeth in anger, Scott looks up to see Jackson walking away.
“McCall, my grandmother can move faster than that and she’s dead! Can you move faster than the... lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother, McCall?”
Now seething in his rage, Scotts reveals his brown eyes which are rapidly brightening to yellow. “Yes, Coach.”
“I can’t hear you.”
“Yes Coach!” He says slightly louder.
“Then do it again.” As Scott jogs back to the front of the line, Coach calls to the rest of the team. “McCalls gonna do it again!”
The whistle blows and Scott shoots forward again as Coach tosses the ball to him. Stiles steps away from the rest of the team, noticing the change in Scott. His speed, the extraordinary agility with which he moves.
An oblivious Jackson goes for a cross check, heading for Scott with his stick horizontal even as the smaller boy hurtles toward him with ferocious speed.
They collide like two goats locking horns. Both go down, Jackson hollering as he hits the ground.
The sickening sound of bone dislodging from socket sends a cringe through Coach. While everyone else runs over to check on Jackson, Stiles hurries to Scott’s side.
“Are you okay?”
But Scott won’t lift his head, won’t reveal his face to Stiles underneath the helmet.
“Scott?”
His head tilts up to reveal the sharpened teeth jutting out from his lower jaw.
“It’s happening. I can’t control it.“
“Come, on. Now? Get up, get up.”
Grabbing him by the shoulder pads, Stiles pulls him up. As Stiles drags him off the field and toward the lockers, neither of them notice someone watching from the sidelines... Derek Hale.
—————
The door to the darkened locker room clangs open, Stiles dragging a hunched over Scott inside.
“Get back,” Scott warns.
“I’m just trying to help--“
“Get away from me!”
His voice comes out with a frighteningly demonic rasp, head snapping around as if to rip out the other boy’s throat.
Stiles retreats, almost stumbling over his own feet at the sight of Scott’s eyes. The sounds coming from him are painful, animalistic and frighteningly aggressive.
Turning back, Scott doubles over in pain. He tears off his lacrosse gloves to reveal his sharpened claws.
Stiles keeps stepping away in fear, accidentally backing into a fire extinguisher against the wall.
The clang of metal causes Scott to whip his head around. But it’s no longer Scott under that helmet or behind those rage-filled yellow eyes.
He hurtles toward Stiles, rounding the corner of the lockers, jumping onto the wood bench and up as Stiles lifts the fire extinguisher and pulls the trigger, blasting CO2 from the nozzle. Scott’s clawed hands come up to shield his face, plumes of white surrounding him.
Darting around another corner, Stiles backs against the lockers, waiting for the next attack.
“Stiles?”
Slowly, Stiles peers around the locker row to see Scott on the floor, chest heaving with each difficult breath. He pulls the helmet off to reveal he’s back to normal. Face drenched with sweat.
“What happened?”
“You tried to kill me.”
Stiles drops the extinguisher to the floor. Still shaking and unable to conceal his anger at his friend.
“It’s like I told you. It’s the anger, your pulse rising. They’re all triggers.”
“But that’s lacrosse. It’s a pretty violent game if you hadn’t noticed.”
“Well, its gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field. You can’t play Saturday. You have to get out of the game.”
“But I’m first line.”
“Not anymore.”
—————
An emotionally and physically exhausted Scott tosses his school bag on the floor and falls face first onto the bed. Melissa McCall looks in.
“Late shift again for me, but I’m taking a night off to see your first game.”
“Mom, you can’t.”
“I can and I will. One shift won’t break us. Not completely. And what’s wrong with your eyes?”
Scott glances up in alarm.
“You look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Oh. It’s nothing. Just kind of stressed.”
“Just stress? Nothing else? You’re not on drugs or anything?”
“Right now?”
“Right now?! What do you mean right now? Have you ever taken drugs?”
“Have you?”
A question she clearly doesn’t want to answer.
“Get some sleep.”
Car keys in hand, Melissa leaves.
Scott drags himself up from the bed and hits the mouse on his computer. The moment it wakes, a web chat invitation from Stiles pops up. Scott hits accept and Stiles and James appeared in the voice call.
—————
As Scott pops up on my screen, Stiles spins around in his chair holding a nerf gun, shooting at the camera.
“You’re such a nerd Stiles,” I chide.
Defending himself, he mocks back. “You’re such a nerd Stiles”
Interrupting our tom-foolery, Scott asks, “What’d you find out?”
“It’s bad,” I warn, “Jackson’s got a separated shoulder.”
“Because of me?”
“Oh please,” Stiles says. “It’s because he’s a tool. It’s not your fault.”
“Is he going to play?”
Relaying what Coach told me earlier, I tell the boys “They don’t know yet. But now they’re all counting on you for Saturday.”
As Scott sighs, Stiles leans closer to the web cam window, squinting his eyes at it. He seems to be looking at something in Scott’s room.
“What?”
A text window pops up the screen and Stiles types:
It looks like--
Scott’s screen starts lagging and a notification comes up across his screen saying he has a bad connection. As I zoom in on Scott’s image trying to see what Stiles is talking about, I finally see it. A dark shadow is standing behind him in his room. Leaping from my chair, I run to Stiles room and slam open the door. Pulling up a chair next to him, I meet his face full of worry as Scott’s screen continues to load.
—————
The cursor turns into a spinning wheel, the computer momentarily hung up. Stiles’s web cam image freezes.
“Looks like what?”
A moment later, the cursor finally stops spinning and the rest of the text appears:
It looks like someone’s behind you. Scott stops breathing. He doesn’t turn around.
Staying very still, his eyes move to his own image in the bottom corner of the web cam window. He slowly clicks the mouse, re-sizing the window, making it larger and larger until he sees his own reflected face, an expression of pure fear on it. And behind him a strange silhouette. Someone is standing there in the shadows of his room.
Scott spins around and Derek grabs him, yanking him away from the desk, sending the laptop clattering to the floor. Dragging him up, he slams Scott face first to the wall.
“I saw you on the field.”
”What? What are you talking--“
“You shifted in front of them. If they find out what you are, they find out about me. About all of us. Then it’s not just hunters after us. It’s everyone.”
“But they didn’t, didn't see anything. I swear--“
“And they won’t. Because if you try to play that game Saturday...” Derek comes terrifyingly close, right next to Scott’s ear.
“I’ll kill you myself.”
He pulls Scott from the wall and sends him tumbling across the room. When Scott looks up from the floor, Derek is gone.
The bedroom window lies open where he must have leapt with incredible speed, leaving Scott alone in his room. And shaking in fear...
I’ve recently been able to get some more downtime and am soon going to start updating this blog (platonicfanfiction) and continuing to write on my other (platonicteenwolf) and I can’t wait to start seeing more of you all soon!
I also actually opened my ask box because my dumb ass forgot to so it’s now open for anyone to send requests/ask questions :]
A/N: Hey! Thank you all for the positive feedback! Sorry the schedule has been so slow, I’ve just recently started my last year of school so there’s a lot going on for me. I appreciate all of your patience!
They/Them Pronouns Version
He/Him Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: none
Scott comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist when someone walks into his room.
“Is this a party or a date?”
Scott jumps, startled. His Mom has the car keys held out in her hand.
“Maybe both.”
He reaches for the keys, but she pulls back.
“And her name is?”
“Allison.”
She hands him the keys.
“We don’t need to have a talk do we?”
“Mom, I’m not having the safe sex talk with you.”
“Oh, oh my god, no I meant about keeping the tank full. Give me those back.”
“Are you serious?”
“You bet your ass I’m serious. I am not going to be on some reality show with a sixteen year-old pregnant girl.”
—————
Scott pulls up to the curb outside Allison’s house. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation, the front door of the house opens and Allison steps out. Looking absolutely stunning under the glow of the streetlights, she approaches the car while pushing a strand of hair from her eyes.
Suddenly realizing he’s still in the car with his mouth hanging open, Scott scrambles to get out and open the door for her.
Driving, Scott and Allison sit in silence. Absolute and agonizing silence.
“Is it okay if I turn on the radio?”
“Uh, yes. But you can’t,” she gives him a confused look as he continues, “Sorry, it’s broken. We’ve been meaning to get it fixed.”
“No worries. You mind if I put on some music anyways?”
Now it’s Scott’s turn to give a confused look. But Allison has her phone out. She turns the volume up and puts it on speaker.
“Nice taste in music.”
“What? You think all girls listen to is Lady Gaga?”
“I listen to Lady Gaga,” Scott mutters.
She does a double take. He’s serious. And she laughs.
“So do I.”
She puts her hand over his on the middle console, their fingers intertwining. Scott tries to hide his smile to play it cool. But he can’t. For just a moment, everything is absolutely perfect.
—————
Teenagers jam the outside of the house by the pool. Some already drunk, some high. Scott and Allison walk through the crowd. But Scott pauses when he hears a dog barking. A huge Rottweiler in the yard next door just beyond a chain link fence. And it’s barking at Derek.
He stands behind the fire pit, staring straight at Scott. But then he shoots a look at the Rottweiler. The dog stops barking instantly. Eyes locked on the animal, Derek gives an almost imperceptible nod. Tail between its legs, the Rottweiler submissively lowers to a sitting position. Satisfied, Derek turns back to a surprised Scott.
“You okay?” Allison asks.
“What? Oh... Yeah. Fine.”
When he looks back, Derek is gone. Movement catches his eye and he glances up to the roof of the pool house where a shadowy figure seems to disappear just past the chimney. Scott steps back, trying to see if he actually did just witness Derek leaping twenty feet off the ground. But there’s nothing there.
Allison then holds her hand out to Scott. Letting his fear go, he takes her hand with a smile. In the crowd, they start dancing. As they come closer and closer, as Allison starts to smile back at him, the usually timid Scott begins to let go.
His hands reach around her waist with the other teens pushing them closer. Bodies pressed against each other, her cheek brushes lightly against his.
Then through the crowd, Scott notices Lydia dancing with Jackson, grinding close to him, her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. She presses her lips to Jackson’s locking him in a passionate kiss. As he eagerly kisses her back, sliding his hands down past her waist, Lydia opens her eyes and looks right at Scott.
Staring at him as Jackson goes at her neck. Unused to the attention of one beautiful girl, much less two, Scott finds himself dumbstruck until the bodies of the dancing teens push together to leave him alone with Allison again.
As Scott peers into her eyes, he realizes they’re about to kiss. Then the music begins driving almost like the quickening of a heartbeat. Scott’s heartbeat. The sounds around him intensify. His fingers clench back, veins at the surface of his hands as he presses against the fabric of Allison’s shirt. His upper lip pulls up momentarily to reveal a sharpened incisor.
Lights glaring in his eyes, Scott’s breathing tightens, sweat at his temples. He steps back, pulling away from her.
“Sorry... I... I’ll be right back.”
“Are you okay?” She asks for the second time tonight.
But he hurries past her and into the house.
—————
“Yo, Scott, you good?”
Hearing Stiles’s voice I look over and see Scott stumbling through the house, hand holding his head in pain.
As he makes his way towards where I’m at by the bathroom I try to get his attention.
“Scott? You all right?”
But he doesn’t answer, continuing to push through the crowd. I look towards Stiles searching for an explanation but all I got was a worried look. Is this the full moon? Is Scott about to turn into a werewolf?
—————
Finally, shoving past everyone, Scott charges out the front door. When he turns the corner, he glances up to the sky where the full moon shines brilliantly in the night.
Gasps now starting to sound like animalistic growls, he reaches his mother’s car. Just getting the keys from his pocket seems an almost colossal effort.
A second later, the car tears away from the curb as Allison comes out of Lydia’s house, looking around. No idea where Scott is.
“Allison.” She turns to see Derek coming toward her.
“I’m a friend of Scott’s. My name’s Derek.” He steps under the street light his deep black eyes, strangely hypnotic.
—————
Scott stumbles into his darkened bedroom, slamming the door shut and flipping the lock. Sweat at his brow, Scott charges into the bathroom. He flips the cold water knob on the shower, letting it pour over him. And then he notices something... his fingernails. Seeming to tear free, bone-like claws pushing them out from the tips.
Terrified, he stumbles out and to the mirror where he wipes away the steam to reveal rapidly growing fangs and two glowing, yellow eyes staring back at him.
—————
I stand in the upstairs hallway of the McCall house as Stiles pounds on the door of Scott’s room.
“Scott, it’s me.”
“Go away!”
Scott voice was laced with panic. I could only imagine what was going on out there. Footsteps could be heard inside the room and suddenly Scott had unlocked the door but only allowed it to open an inch.
“Scott, let us in,” Stiles urges.
“Come on dude we can help! Whatever it is.”
“No!” Eyes burning yellow, he stays hidden behind the door, face shrouded in darkness as Stiles tries to peer through.
“Listen, you have to find Allison.”
Remember seeing her when Stiles and I were running out of the house I reassure Scott, “She’s fine. I saw her get a ride. She’s totally fine.”
“No, I think I know who it is.” I could hear the pain in his voice as he continued talking.
I know Stiles could hear it too because he kept pushing the door open harder.
“Just let us and we can talk.”
“It’s Derek. Derek Hale’s the werewolf. He’s the one who bit me. He’s the one who killed the girl in the woods.”
Wait- Derek? But he’s.. “Scott... Derek’s the one who drove Allison from the party,” I say.
The weight of realization falling on him, Scott slams the door shut, locking it.
Realizing he can’t get in Stiles starts to bang on the door more urgently.
“Scott! Scott, wait--“
—————
Through the open bedroom window, Scott launches himself out from the second story. The full moon looming in the sky behind him, his hands slam down on the wet pavement.
Now, Scott’s crouched figure slowly draws up to reveal he’s no longer struggling against the transformation. He’s given into it.
Not a hulking beast but a leaner, more human monster. Both powerfully muscular and strangely seductive with gleaming yellow eyes, incisors reformed into fangs, ears tapered to points over thickened, wilder hair and fingernails grown to razor sharp claws.
The sixteen year-old boy is gone. Scott is now a werewolf, charging down the driveway and then suddenly up, leaping to the branch of one tree, hurtling to the next and then finally into the dark of the woods. In search of Allison and the danger she faces.
—————
Down winding roads and through twisting paths, flashes of moonlight briefly illuminate the outline of a figure moving impossibly fast.
At the tree-shrouded entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve, Derek’s black Dodge Challenger sits in the parking lot.
Scott leaps down, landing right on the roof of the car. He peers through the windshield to see the vehicle is empty and then leaps off in search of its owner.
Charging out from the shadows, Scott lands on a moonlit fallen tree. Clawed hands resting on the dead trunk, his breath comes out in steamy gasps. His crouched and silhouetted body twists around, trying to catch a scent in the air.
—————
Stiles’s jeep skids to a halt just outside Allison’s darkened house. A second later, he’s scrambled out of the drivers seat and heading towards the steps to ringing the bell as I follow in hot pursuit.
Stiles‘ pounding on the door, finally stops when lights come on inside. The door clicks open and Mrs. Argent looks at us, confused.
“Hi,” Stiles starts, “We’re friends of Allison’s and this is going to sound kind of crazy. Actually really crazy. Actually crazy doesn’t even begin to--“
As his rambling continues on I cut him off to explain. “We’re looking for Allison.”
After giving me a warm smile, Mrs. Argent turns back inside and calls Allison from her room.
Stiles opens his mouth to speak again but then stops, Allison walks out of her room facing us from the banister. Wait, so if she’s fine then...
As a distant howl can be heard, Stiles and I turns to the sound, a look of understanding shared between us. It’s not Allison Derek was after.
It’s Scott.
—————
Racing into a clearing, Scott slows, looking up to find an unexpected and very strange sight-- a jacket.
It’s Allison’s. The jacket she was wearing at the party, now used to lure him here.
Something moves in the shadows. Scott whirls around, launching himself up as Derek comes out of the darkness and drags him back to the ground. They almost look like dogs grappling as they go up and then slam back down to the leaves and brush below them.
Derek holds him down, one hand wrapped around Scott’s throat. He’s unchanged in the full moon, except for a strange blue tint to his eyes.
“Where is she?” Scott’s voice is deeper, strangely demonic.
“She’s safe. From you.”
“What did you do?“
“Quiet,” His voice comes like a knife into Scott’s head, making him wince. Derek glances up to the woods around them, listening. “It’s too late.”
Scott’s yellow eyes flick left and right as if he senses something else in the woods as well.
“They’re already here,” Derek turns back to Scott, a hint of fear in his eyes. “Run.”
A second later Derek is on his feet, moving so fast he’s almost a blur. Scott barely has time to react when something comes soaring out of the darkness.
An arrow lands in the trunk of a nearby tree. The bolt explodes with a brilliant flash. Scott stumbles back, yellow eyes blinking furiously. Something about the flash has perfectly compromised his vision. When he looks up, Derek is gone. In his place, three figures emerge from the shadows. Silhouettes at first, they approach with purpose.
They look like hunters. One carries a Remington pistol grip shotgun. Another chambers a round in a Glock 21 handgun. The third and obvious leader of the pack, wields a much stranger weapon, a crossbow. Steel-tipped bolt pulled back and ready to fire.
Practically blinded, Scott can barely see a thing. Until his eyes focus on the determined face of the Leader, raising the crossbow to fire again. Scott tries to turn and run, but the arrow soars, tearing through the darkness and right into Scott’s forearm, pinning it to a tree.
As Scott howls in pain, the leader lowers the crossbow, allowing himself the slightest of satisfied smiles. Turning towards the other hunters he orders,
“Take him...”
The first Hunter comes forward, but then a large figure comes barreling towards him. Clawed hands grab the first Hunter by the back of his jacket and hurl him into the air, easily tossing him into the second Hunter.
The Leader retreats back, calmly and quickly redrawing his crossbow as Derek tears out of the shadows toward Scott. In one swift motion he snaps the shaft of the arrow in Scott’s arm and pulls him free.
“Go!” Derek shouts.
Scott charges forward, racing out of the clearing and back into the woods with Derek right behind him.
A shotgun blast fires just over their heads followed by a volley of gunfire.
“Faster!”
But Scott eventually slows and underneath his damp hair, his face has returned to normal. He’s back in human form. He staggers to a stop in the woods, gasping for breath.
When he looks up, Derek steps out of the darkness to face him. He doesn’t breathe hard at all, seemingly in perfect control of his abilities.
“Who were they?”
“Hunters. The kind who’ve been hunting us for centuries.”
Suddenly, the severity of the situation hits Scott. His anger level spikes as he realizes this is all Derek’s doing. “Us? You mean you. You did this to me!”
“Is it that bad, Scott? That you can see better, hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope? You’ve been given something most people would kill for. The bite is a gift.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You will. And you’re going to need me if you want to learn to control it. You and me Scott. We’re brothers now.”
—————
The morning sun beating down on an empty tree-shrouded road. As Stiles and I drive down the highway, I notice Scott walking down the middle of the street.
Rolling down the window, I call his name, trying to get his attention.
“Scott? Are you okay? We’ve been driving all over looking for you.”
Exhausted, Scott slowly turns towards us as Stiles slows down next to him.
“You guys were right. About all of it.” As I clamber into the back-seat so Scott can sit in the front, Stiles tosses a jacket towards the wolf since he’s still only clad in pajamas. “You know what actually worries me most?”
Stiles scoffs and turns towards his best friend, briefly taking his eyes off the road.
“If you say Allison, I’m going to punch you in the head.”
“She probably hates me now,” Scott retorts.
Looking up at Scott from where I’m sitting in the back, I could tell he genuinely cared for this girl.
“I doubt she hates you dude. You should probably apologize though for ditching her the other night and come up with an explanation why.”
Butting in, Stiles adds on to my suggestion.
“Yeah or just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf.” Scott gives him a sideways glare, head still hanging low with disdain. “Okay, bad idea. We’ll get through this. If I have to, I’ll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I can do it.”
And finally, the tiniest smile is coaxed out of Scott.
—————
Waiting on a bench outside school, Scott jumps to his feet when he sees Allison come out the double doors.
“What happened to you last night? You left me stranded at the party.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I really am. But just trust me on this... I had a really good reason.”
“Did you get sick?”
“I definitely had an attack of something.”
Exasperated with his lack of answers, Allison asks, “Am I going to get an explanation?”
“For now... could you find it in your heart to just trust me?”
“Am I going to regret this?”
“Probably.” Scott takes a steps closer to her. “So are we agreeing on yes to a second chance?”
“Definitely yes.”
Then, just as it looks like they’re about to kiss, a horn beeps. An SUV pulling up to the front of the school.
“That’s my Dad,” Allison explains, “I better go.”
Scott nods, turning to head back. But then he pauses, head tilting up with an intake of breath. He’s caught a familiar scent. Glancing back, he sees Allison’s father. The face is instantly recognizable. It’s the man with the crossbow. The leader of the hunters.
He throws Scott a friendly smile, clearly not recognizing the boy as his prey from last night.
With the full weight of realization hitting Scott, the father of the girl he loves is also now his sworn enemy, his face clouds with dread, darkness surrounding him.
END OF EP 1
—————
Tag List: @linkpk88 @mochminnie @im-a-stranger-thing
A/N: Hey! Thank you all for the positive feedback! Sorry the schedule has been so slow, I’ve just recently started my last year of school so there’s a lot going on for me. I appreciate all of your patience!
They/Them Pronouns Version
She/Her Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: none
Scott comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist when someone walks into his room.
“Is this a party or a date?”
Scott jumps, startled. His Mom has the car keys held out in her hand.
“Maybe both.”
He reaches for the keys, but she pulls back.
“And her name is?”
“Allison.”
She hands him the keys.
“We don’t need to have a talk do we?”
“Mom, I’m not having the safe sex talk with you.”
“Oh, oh my god, no I meant about keeping the tank full. Give me those back.”
“Are you serious?”
“You bet your ass I’m serious. I am not going to be on some reality show with a sixteen year-old pregnant girl.”
—————
Scott pulls up to the curb outside Allison’s house. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation, the front door of the house opens and Allison steps out. Looking absolutely stunning under the glow of the streetlights, she approaches the car while pushing a strand of hair from her eyes.
Suddenly realizing he’s still in the car with his mouth hanging open, Scott scrambles to get out and open the door for her.
Driving, Scott and Allison sit in silence. Absolute and agonizing silence.
“Is it okay if I turn on the radio?”
“Uh, yes. But you can’t,” she gives him a confused look as he continues, “Sorry, it’s broken. We’ve been meaning to get it fixed.”
“No worries. You mind if I put on some music anyways?”
Now it’s Scott’s turn to give a confused look. But Allison has her phone out. She turns the volume up and puts it on speaker.
“Nice taste in music.”
“What? You think all girls listen to is Lady Gaga?”
“I listen to Lady Gaga,” Scott mutters.
She does a double take. He’s serious. And she laughs.
“So do I.”
She puts her hand over his on the middle console, their fingers intertwining. Scott tries to hide his smile to play it cool. But he can’t. For just a moment, everything is absolutely perfect.
—————
Teenagers jam the outside of the house by the pool. Some already drunk, some high. Scott and Allison walk through the crowd. But Scott pauses when he hears a dog barking. A huge Rottweiler in the yard next door just beyond a chain link fence. And it’s barking at Derek.
He stands behind the fire pit, staring straight at Scott. But then he shoots a look at the Rottweiler. The dog stops barking instantly. Eyes locked on the animal, Derek gives an almost imperceptible nod. Tail between its legs, the Rottweiler submissively lowers to a sitting position. Satisfied, Derek turns back to a surprised Scott.
“You okay?” Allison asks.
“What? Oh... Yeah. Fine.”
When he looks back, Derek is gone. Movement catches his eye and he glances up to the roof of the pool house where a shadowy figure seems to disappear just past the chimney. Scott steps back, trying to see if he actually did just witness Derek leaping twenty feet off the ground. But there’s nothing there.
Allison then holds her hand out to Scott. Letting his fear go, he takes her hand with a smile. In the crowd, they start dancing. As they come closer and closer, as Allison starts to smile back at him, the usually timid Scott begins to let go.
His hands reach around her waist with the other teens pushing them closer. Bodies pressed against each other, her cheek brushes lightly against his.
Then through the crowd, Scott notices Lydia dancing with Jackson, grinding close to him, her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. She presses her lips to Jackson’s locking him in a passionate kiss. As he eagerly kisses her back, sliding his hands down past her waist, Lydia opens her eyes and looks right at Scott.
Staring at him as Jackson goes at her neck. Unused to the attention of one beautiful girl, much less two, Scott finds himself dumbstruck until the bodies of the dancing teens push together to leave him alone with Allison again.
As Scott peers into her eyes, he realizes they’re about to kiss. Then the music begins driving almost like the quickening of a heartbeat. Scott’s heartbeat. The sounds around him intensify. His fingers clench back, veins at the surface of his hands as he presses against the fabric of Allison’s shirt. His upper lip pulls up momentarily to reveal a sharpened incisor.
Lights glaring in his eyes, Scott’s breathing tightens, sweat at his temples. He steps back, pulling away from her.
“Sorry... I... I’ll be right back.”
“Are you okay?” She asks for the second time tonight.
But he hurries past her and into the house.
—————
“Yo, Scott, you good?”
Hearing Stiles’s voice I look over and see Scott stumbling through the house, hand holding his head in pain.
As he makes his way towards where I’m at by the bathroom I try to get his attention.
“Scott? You all right?”
But he doesn’t answer, continuing to push through the crowd. I look towards Stiles searching for an explanation but all I got was a worried look. Is this the full moon? Is Scott about to turn into a werewolf?
—————
Finally, shoving past everyone, Scott charges out the front door. When he turns the corner, he glances up to the sky where the full moon shines brilliantly in the night.
Gasps now starting to sound like animalistic growls, he reaches his mother’s car. Just getting the keys from his pocket seems an almost colossal effort.
A second later, the car tears away from the curb as Allison comes out of Lydia’s house, looking around. No idea where Scott is.
“Allison.” She turns to see Derek coming toward her.
“I’m a friend of Scott’s. My name’s Derek.” He steps under the street light his deep black eyes, strangely hypnotic.
—————
Scott stumbles into his darkened bedroom, slamming the door shut and flipping the lock. Sweat at his brow, Scott charges into the bathroom. He flips the cold water knob on the shower, letting it pour over him. And then he notices something... his fingernails. Seeming to tear free, bone-like claws pushing them out from the tips.
Terrified, he stumbles out and to the mirror where he wipes away the steam to reveal rapidly growing fangs and two glowing, yellow eyes staring back at him.
—————
I stand in the upstairs hallway of the McCall house as Stiles pounds on the door of Scott’s room.
“Scott, it’s me.”
“Go away!”
Scott voice was laced with panic. I could only imagine what was going on out there. Footsteps could be heard inside the room and suddenly Scott had unlocked the door but only allowed it to open an inch.
“Scott, let us in,” Stiles urges.
“Come on dude we can help! Whatever it is.”
“No!” Eyes burning yellow, he stays hidden behind the door, face shrouded in darkness as Stiles tries to peer through.
“Listen, you have to find Allison.”
Remember seeing her when Stiles and I were running out of the house I reassure Scott, “She’s fine. I saw her get a ride. She’s totally fine.”
“No, I think I know who it is.” I could hear the pain in his voice as he continued talking.
I know Stiles could hear it too because he kept pushing the door open harder.
“Just let us and we can talk.”
“It’s Derek. Derek Hale’s the werewolf. He’s the one who bit me. He’s the one who killed the girl in the woods.”
Wait- Derek? But he’s.. “Scott... Derek’s the one who drove Allison from the party,” I say.
The weight of realization falling on him, Scott slams the door shut, locking it.
Realizing he can’t get in Stiles starts to bang on the door more urgently.
“Scott! Scott, wait--“
—————
Through the open bedroom window, Scott launches himself out from the second story. The full moon looming in the sky behind him, his hands slam down on the wet pavement.
Now, Scott’s crouched figure slowly draws up to reveal he’s no longer struggling against the transformation. He’s given into it.
Not a hulking beast but a leaner, more human monster. Both powerfully muscular and strangely seductive with gleaming yellow eyes, incisors reformed into fangs, ears tapered to points over thickened, wilder hair and fingernails grown to razor sharp claws.
The sixteen year-old boy is gone. Scott is now a werewolf, charging down the driveway and then suddenly up, leaping to the branch of one tree, hurtling to the next and then finally into the dark of the woods. In search of Allison and the danger she faces.
—————
Down winding roads and through twisting paths, flashes of moonlight briefly illuminate the outline of a figure moving impossibly fast.
At the tree-shrouded entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve, Derek’s black Dodge Challenger sits in the parking lot.
Scott leaps down, landing right on the roof of the car. He peers through the windshield to see the vehicle is empty and then leaps off in search of its owner.
Charging out from the shadows, Scott lands on a moonlit fallen tree. Clawed hands resting on the dead trunk, his breath comes out in steamy gasps. His crouched and silhouetted body twists around, trying to catch a scent in the air.
—————
Stiles’s jeep skids to a halt just outside Allison’s darkened house. A second later, he’s scrambled out of the drivers seat and heading towards the steps to ringing the bell as I follow in hot pursuit.
Stiles‘ pounding on the door, finally stops when lights come on inside. The door clicks open and Mrs. Argent looks at us, confused.
“Hi,” Stiles starts, “We’re friends of Allison’s and this is going to sound kind of crazy. Actually really crazy. Actually crazy doesn’t even begin to--“
As his rambling continues on I cut him off to explain. “We’re looking for Allison.”
After giving me a warm smile, Mrs. Argent turns back inside and calls Allison from her room.
Stiles opens his mouth to speak again but then stops, Allison walks out of her room facing us from the banister. Wait, so if she’s fine then...
As a distant howl can be heard, Stiles and I turns to the sound, a look of understanding shared between us. It’s not Allison Derek was after.
It’s Scott.
—————
Racing into a clearing, Scott slows, looking up to find an unexpected and very strange sight-- a jacket.
It’s Allison’s. The jacket she was wearing at the party, now used to lure him here.
Something moves in the shadows. Scott whirls around, launching himself up as Derek comes out of the darkness and drags him back to the ground. They almost look like dogs grappling as they go up and then slam back down to the leaves and brush below them.
Derek holds him down, one hand wrapped around Scott’s throat. He’s unchanged in the full moon, except for a strange blue tint to his eyes.
“Where is she?” Scott’s voice is deeper, strangely demonic.
“She’s safe. From you.”
“What did you do?”
“Quiet,” His voice comes like a knife into Scott’s head, making him wince. Derek glances up to the woods around them, listening. “It’s too late.”
Scott’s yellow eyes flick left and right as if he senses something else in the woods as well.
“They’re already here,” Derek turns back to Scott, a hint of fear in his eyes. “Run.”
A second later Derek is on his feet, moving so fast he’s almost a blur. Scott barely has time to react when something comes soaring out of the darkness.
An arrow lands in the trunk of a nearby tree. The bolt explodes with a brilliant flash. Scott stumbles back, yellow eyes blinking furiously. Something about the flash has perfectly compromised his vision. When he looks up, Derek is gone. In his place, three figures emerge from the shadows. Silhouettes at first, they approach with purpose.
They look like hunters. One carries a Remington pistol grip shotgun. Another chambers a round in a Glock 21 handgun. The third and obvious leader of the pack, wields a much stranger weapon, a crossbow. Steel-tipped bolt pulled back and ready to fire.
Practically blinded, Scott can barely see a thing. Until his eyes focus on the determined face of the Leader, raising the crossbow to fire again. Scott tries to turn and run, but the arrow soars, tearing through the darkness and right into Scott’s forearm, pinning it to a tree.
As Scott howls in pain, the leader lowers the crossbow, allowing himself the slightest of satisfied smiles. Turning towards the other hunters he orders,
“Take him...”
The first Hunter comes forward, but then a large figure comes barreling towards him. Clawed hands grab the first Hunter by the back of his jacket and hurl him into the air, easily tossing him into the second Hunter.
The Leader retreats back, calmly and quickly redrawing his crossbow as Derek tears out of the shadows toward Scott. In one swift motion he snaps the shaft of the arrow in Scott’s arm and pulls him free.
“Go!” Derek shouts.
Scott charges forward, racing out of the clearing and back into the woods with Derek right behind him.
A shotgun blast fires just over their heads followed by a volley of gunfire.
“Faster!”
But Scott eventually slows and underneath his damp hair, his face has returned to normal. He’s back in human form. He staggers to a stop in the woods, gasping for breath.
When he looks up, Derek steps out of the darkness to face him. He doesn’t breathe hard at all, seemingly in perfect control of his abilities.
“Who were they?”
“Hunters. The kind who’ve been hunting us for centuries.”
Suddenly, the severity of the situation hits Scott. His anger level spikes as he realizes this is all Derek’s doing. “Us? You mean you. You did this to me!”
“Is it that bad, Scott? That you can see better, hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope? You’ve been given something most people would kill for. The bite is a gift.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You will. And you’re going to need me if you want to learn to control it. You and me Scott. We’re brothers now.”
—————
The morning sun beating down on an empty tree-shrouded road. As Stiles and I drive down the highway, I notice Scott walking down the middle of the street.
Rolling down the window, I call his name, trying to get his attention.
“Scott? Are you okay? We’ve been driving all over looking for you.”
Exhausted, Scott slowly turns towards us as Stiles slows down next to him.
“You guys were right. About all of it.” As I clamber into the back-seat so Scott can sit in the front, Stiles tosses a jacket towards the wolf since he’s still only clad in pajamas. “You know what actually worries me most?”
Stiles scoffs and turns towards his best friend, briefly taking his eyes off the road.
“If you say Allison, I’m going to punch you in the head.”
“She probably hates me now,” Scott retorts.
Looking up at Scott from where I’m sitting in the back, I could tell he genuinely cared for this girl.
“I doubt she hates you dude. You should probably apologize though for ditching her the other night and come up with an explanation why.”
Butting in, Stiles adds on to my suggestion.
“Yeah or just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf.” Scott gives him a sideways glare, head still hanging low with disdain. “Okay, bad idea. We’ll get through this. If I have to, I’ll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I can do it.”
And finally, the tiniest smile is coaxed out of Scott.
—————
Waiting on a bench outside school, Scott jumps to his feet when he sees Allison come out the double doors.
“What happened to you last night? You left me stranded at the party.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I really am. But just trust me on this... I had a really good reason.”
“Did you get sick?”
“I definitely had an attack of something.”
Exasperated with his lack of answers, Allison asks, “Am I going to get an explanation?”
“For now... could you find it in your heart to just trust me?”
“Am I going to regret this?”
“Probably.” Scott takes a steps closer to her. “So are we agreeing on yes to a second chance?”
“Definitely yes.”
Then, just as it looks like they’re about to kiss, a horn beeps. An SUV pulling up to the front of the school.
“That’s my Dad,” Allison explains, “I better go.”
Scott nods, turning to head back. But then he pauses, head tilting up with an intake of breath. He’s caught a familiar scent. Glancing back, he sees Allison’s father. The face is instantly recognizable. It’s the man with the crossbow. The leader of the hunters.
He throws Scott a friendly smile, clearly not recognizing the boy as his prey from last night.
With the full weight of realization hitting Scott, the father of the girl he loves is also now his sworn enemy, his face clouds with dread, darkness surrounding him.
A/N: Hey! Thank you all for the positive feedback! Sorry the schedule has been so slow, I’ve just recently started my last year of school so there’s a lot going on for me. I appreciate all of your patience!
She/Her Pronouns Version
He/Him Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: none
Scott comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist when someone walks into his room.
“Is this a party or a date?”
Scott jumps, startled. His Mom has the car keys held out in her hand.
“Maybe both.”
He reaches for the keys, but she pulls back.
“And her name is?”
“Allison.”
She hands him the keys.
“We don’t need to have a talk do we?”
“Mom, I’m not having the safe sex talk with you.”
“Oh, oh my god, no I meant about keeping the tank full. Give me those back.”
“Are you serious?”
“You bet your ass I’m serious. I am not going to be on some reality show with a sixteen year-old pregnant girl.”
—————
Scott pulls up to the curb outside Allison’s house. Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in anticipation, the front door of the house opens and Allison steps out. Looking absolutely stunning under the glow of the streetlights, she approaches the car while pushing a strand of hair from her eyes.
Suddenly realizing he’s still in the car with his mouth hanging open, Scott scrambles to get out and open the door for her.
Driving, Scott and Allison sit in silence. Absolute and agonizing silence.
“Is it okay if I turn on the radio?”
“Uh, yes. But you can’t,” she gives him a confused look as he continues, “Sorry, it’s broken. We’ve been meaning to get it fixed.”
“No worries. You mind if I put on some music anyways?”
Now it’s Scott’s turn to give a confused look. But Allison has her phone out. She turns the volume up and puts it on speaker.
“Nice taste in music.”
“What? You think all girls listen to is Lady Gaga?”
“I listen to Lady Gaga,” Scott mutters.
She does a double take. He’s serious. And she laughs.
“So do I.”
She puts her hand over his on the middle console, their fingers intertwining. Scott tries to hide his smile to play it cool. But he can’t. For just a moment, everything is absolutely perfect.
—————
Teenagers jam the outside of the house by the pool. Some already drunk, some high. Scott and Allison walk through the crowd. But Scott pauses when he hears a dog barking. A huge Rottweiler in the yard next door just beyond a chain link fence. And it’s barking at Derek.
He stands behind the fire pit, staring straight at Scott. But then he shoots a look at the Rottweiler. The dog stops barking instantly. Eyes locked on the animal, Derek gives an almost imperceptible nod. Tail between its legs, the Rottweiler submissively lowers to a sitting position. Satisfied, Derek turns back to a surprised Scott.
“You okay?” Allison asks.
“What? Oh... Yeah. Fine.”
When he looks back, Derek is gone. Movement catches his eye and he glances up to the roof of the pool house where a shadowy figure seems to disappear just past the chimney. Scott steps back, trying to see if he actually did just witness Derek leaping twenty feet off the ground. But there’s nothing there.
Allison then holds her hand out to Scott. Letting his fear go, he takes her hand with a smile. In the crowd, they start dancing. As they come closer and closer, as Allison starts to smile back at him, the usually timid Scott begins to let go.
His hands reach around her waist with the other teens pushing them closer. Bodies pressed against each other, her cheek brushes lightly against his.
Then through the crowd, Scott notices Lydia dancing with Jackson, grinding close to him, her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. She presses her lips to Jackson’s locking him in a passionate kiss. As he eagerly kisses her back, sliding his hands down past her waist, Lydia opens her eyes and looks right at Scott.
Staring at him as Jackson goes at her neck. Unused to the attention of one beautiful girl, much less two, Scott finds himself dumbstruck until the bodies of the dancing teens push together to leave him alone with Allison again.
As Scott peers into her eyes, he realizes they’re about to kiss. Then the music begins driving almost like the quickening of a heartbeat. Scott’s heartbeat. The sounds around him intensify. His fingers clench back, veins at the surface of his hands as he presses against the fabric of Allison’s shirt. His upper lip pulls up momentarily to reveal a sharpened incisor.
Lights glaring in his eyes, Scott’s breathing tightens, sweat at his temples. He steps back, pulling away from her.
“Sorry... I... I’ll be right back.”
“Are you okay?” She asks for the second time tonight.
But he hurries past her and into the house.
—————
“Yo, Scott, you good?”
Hearing Stiles’s voice I look over and see Scott stumbling through the house, hand holding his head in pain.
As he makes his way towards where I’m at by the bathroom I try to get his attention.
“Scott? You all right?”
But he doesn’t answer, continuing to push through the crowd. I look towards Stiles searching for an explanation but all I got was a worried look. Is this the full moon? Is Scott about to turn into a werewolf?
—————
Finally, shoving past everyone, Scott charges out the front door. When he turns the corner, he glances up to the sky where the full moon shines brilliantly in the night.
Gasps now starting to sound like animalistic growls, he reaches his mother’s car. Just getting the keys from his pocket seems an almost colossal effort.
A second later, the car tears away from the curb as Allison comes out of Lydia’s house, looking around. No idea where Scott is.
“Allison.” She turns to see Derek coming toward her.
“I’m a friend of Scott’s. My name’s Derek.” He steps under the street light his deep black eyes, strangely hypnotic.
—————
Scott stumbles into his darkened bedroom, slamming the door shut and flipping the lock. Sweat at his brow, Scott charges into the bathroom. He flips the cold water knob on the shower, letting it pour over him. And then he notices something... his fingernails. Seeming to tear free, bone-like claws pushing them out from the tips.
Terrified, he stumbles out and to the mirror where he wipes away the steam to reveal rapidly growing fangs and two glowing, yellow eyes staring back at him.
—————
I stand in the upstairs hallway of the McCall house as Stiles pounds on the door of Scott’s room.
“Scott, it’s me.”
“Go away!”
Scott voice was laced with panic. I could only imagine what was going on out there. Footsteps could be heard inside the room and suddenly Scott had unlocked the door but only allowed it to open an inch.
“Scott, let us in,” Stiles urges.
“Come on dude we can help! Whatever it is.”
“No!” Eyes burning yellow, he stays hidden behind the door, face shrouded in darkness as Stiles tries to peer through.
“Listen, you have to find Allison.”
Remember seeing her when Stiles and I were running out of the house I reassure Scott, “She’s fine. I saw her get a ride. She’s totally fine.”
“No, I think I know who it is.” I could hear the pain in his voice as he continued talking.
I know Stiles could hear it too because he kept pushing the door open harder.
“Just let us and we can talk.”
“It’s Derek. Derek Hale’s the werewolf. He’s the one who bit me. He’s the one who killed the girl in the woods.”
Wait- Derek? But he’s.. “Scott... Derek’s the one who drove Allison from the party,” I say.
The weight of realization falling on him, Scott slams the door shut, locking it.
Realizing he can’t get in Stiles starts to bang on the door more urgently.
“Scott! Scott, wait--“
—————
Through the open bedroom window, Scott launches himself out from the second story. The full moon looming in the sky behind him, his hands slam down on the wet pavement.
Now, Scott’s crouched figure slowly draws up to reveal he’s no longer struggling against the transformation. He’s given into it.
Not a hulking beast but a leaner, more human monster. Both powerfully muscular and strangely seductive with gleaming yellow eyes, incisors reformed into fangs, ears tapered to points over thickened, wilder hair and fingernails grown to razor sharp claws.
The sixteen year-old boy is gone. Scott is now a werewolf, charging down the driveway and then suddenly up, leaping to the branch of one tree, hurtling to the next and then finally into the dark of the woods. In search of Allison and the danger she faces.
—————
Down winding roads and through twisting paths, flashes of moonlight briefly illuminate the outline of a figure moving impossibly fast.
At the tree-shrouded entrance to the Beacon Hills Preserve, Derek’s black Dodge Challenger sits in the parking lot.
Scott leaps down, landing right on the roof of the car. He peers through the windshield to see the vehicle is empty and then leaps off in search of its owner.
Charging out from the shadows, Scott lands on a moonlit fallen tree. Clawed hands resting on the dead trunk, his breath comes out in steamy gasps. His crouched and silhouetted body twists around, trying to catch a scent in the air.
—————
Stiles’s jeep skids to a halt just outside Allison’s darkened house. A second later, he’s scrambled out of the drivers seat and heading towards the steps to ringing the bell as I follow in hot pursuit.
Stiles‘ pounding on the door, finally stops when lights come on inside. The door clicks open and Mrs. Argent looks at us, confused.
“Hi,” Stiles starts, “We’re friends of Allison’s and this is going to sound kind of crazy. Actually really crazy. Actually crazy doesn’t even begin to--“
As his rambling continues on I cut him off to explain. “We’re looking for Allison.”
After giving me a warm smile, Mrs. Argent turns back inside and calls Allison from her room.
Stiles opens his mouth to speak again but then stops, Allison walks out of her room facing us from the banister. Wait, so if she’s fine then...
As a distant howl can be heard, Stiles and I turns to the sound, a look of understanding shared between us. It’s not Allison Derek was after.
It’s Scott.
—————
Racing into a clearing, Scott slows, looking up to find an unexpected and very strange sight-- a jacket.
It’s Allison’s. The jacket she was wearing at the party, now used to lure him here.
Something moves in the shadows. Scott whirls around, launching himself up as Derek comes out of the darkness and drags him back to the ground. They almost look like dogs grappling as they go up and then slam back down to the leaves and brush below them.
Derek holds him down, one hand wrapped around Scott’s throat. He’s unchanged in the full moon, except for a strange blue tint to his eyes.
“Where is she?” Scott’s voice is deeper, strangely demonic.
“She’s safe. From you.”
“What did you do?”
“Quiet,” His voice comes like a knife into Scott’s head, making him wince. Derek glances up to the woods around them, listening. “It’s too late.”
Scott’s yellow eyes flick left and right as if he senses something else in the woods as well.
“They’re already here,” Derek turns back to Scott, a hint of fear in his eyes. “Run.”
A second later Derek is on his feet, moving so fast he’s almost a blur. Scott barely has time to react when something comes soaring out of the darkness.
An arrow lands in the trunk of a nearby tree. The bolt explodes with a brilliant flash. Scott stumbles back, yellow eyes blinking furiously. Something about the flash has perfectly compromised his vision. When he looks up, Derek is gone. In his place, three figures emerge from the shadows. Silhouettes at first, they approach with purpose.
They look like hunters. One carries a Remington pistol grip shotgun. Another chambers a round in a Glock 21 handgun. The third and obvious leader of the pack, wields a much stranger weapon, a crossbow. Steel-tipped bolt pulled back and ready to fire.
Practically blinded, Scott can barely see a thing. Until his eyes focus on the determined face of the Leader, raising the crossbow to fire again. Scott tries to turn and run, but the arrow soars, tearing through the darkness and right into Scott’s forearm, pinning it to a tree.
As Scott howls in pain, the leader lowers the crossbow, allowing himself the slightest of satisfied smiles. Turning towards the other hunters he orders,
“Take him...”
The first Hunter comes forward, but then a large figure comes barreling towards him. Clawed hands grab the first Hunter by the back of his jacket and hurl him into the air, easily tossing him into the second Hunter.
The Leader retreats back, calmly and quickly redrawing his crossbow as Derek tears out of the shadows toward Scott. In one swift motion he snaps the shaft of the arrow in Scott’s arm and pulls him free.
“Go!” Derek shouts.
Scott charges forward, racing out of the clearing and back into the woods with Derek right behind him.
A shotgun blast fires just over their heads followed by a volley of gunfire.
“Faster!”
But Scott eventually slows and underneath his damp hair, his face has returned to normal. He’s back in human form. He staggers to a stop in the woods, gasping for breath.
When he looks up, Derek steps out of the darkness to face him. He doesn’t breathe hard at all, seemingly in perfect control of his abilities.
“Who were they?”
“Hunters. The kind who’ve been hunting us for centuries.”
Suddenly, the severity of the situation hits Scott. His anger level spikes as he realizes this is all Derek’s doing. “Us? You mean you. You did this to me!”
“Is it that bad, Scott? That you can see better, hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope? You’ve been given something most people would kill for. The bite is a gift.”
“I don’t want it.”
“You will. And you’re going to need me if you want to learn to control it. You and me Scott. We’re brothers now.”
—————
The morning sun beating down on an empty tree-shrouded road. As Stiles and I drive down the highway, I notice Scott walking down the middle of the street.
Rolling down the window, I call his name, trying to get his attention.
“Scott? Are you okay? We’ve been driving all over looking for you.”
Exhausted, Scott slowly turns towards us as Stiles slows down next to him.
“You guys were right. About all of it.” As I clamber into the back-seat so Scott can sit in the front, Stiles tosses a jacket towards the wolf since he’s still only clad in pajamas. “You know what actually worries me most?”
Stiles scoffs and turns towards his best friend, briefly taking his eyes off the road.
“If you say Allison, I’m going to punch you in the head.”
“She probably hates me now,” Scott retorts.
Looking up at Scott from where I’m sitting in the back, I could tell he genuinely cared for this girl.
“I doubt she hates you dude. You should probably apologize though for ditching her the other night and come up with an explanation why.”
Butting in, Stiles adds on to my suggestion.
“Yeah or just tell her the truth and revel in the awesomeness of the fact that you’re a freaking werewolf.” Scott gives him a sideways glare, head still hanging low with disdain. “Okay, bad idea. We’ll get through this. If I have to, I’ll chain you up myself on full moon nights and feed you live mice. I had a boa once. I can do it.”
And finally, the tiniest smile is coaxed out of Scott.
—————
Waiting on a bench outside school, Scott jumps to his feet when he sees Allison come out the double doors.
“What happened to you last night? You left me stranded at the party.”
“I know and I’m sorry. I really am. But just trust me on this... I had a really good reason.”
“Did you get sick?”
“I definitely had an attack of something.”
Exasperated with his lack of answers, Allison asks, “Am I going to get an explanation?”
“For now... could you find it in your heart to just trust me?”
“Am I going to regret this?”
“Probably.” Scott takes a steps closer to her. “So are we agreeing on yes to a second chance?”
“Definitely yes.”
Then, just as it looks like they’re about to kiss, a horn beeps. An SUV pulling up to the front of the school.
“That’s my Dad,” Allison explains, “I better go.”
Scott nods, turning to head back. But then he pauses, head tilting up with an intake of breath. He’s caught a familiar scent. Glancing back, he sees Allison’s father. The face is instantly recognizable. It’s the man with the crossbow. The leader of the hunters.
He throws Scott a friendly smile, clearly not recognizing the boy as his prey from last night.
With the full weight of realization hitting Scott, the father of the girl he loves is also now his sworn enemy, his face clouds with dread, darkness surrounding him.
A/N: Hey! Check out This Post to see a little message about my future posting schedule and announcements!
She/Her Pronouns Version
He/His Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: swearing maybe
As thunder cracks in the sky above, Scott flips a closed sign on the doors to the Animal Clinic.
With a few spare bandages in his hand, Scott approaches one of the mirrors in the bathroom and lifts up his shirt.
Fingertips at the edge of the bandage he braces himself. Then rips it off. Sucking in a breath and shutting his eyes, he finds himself looking at-- nothing. The bite has completely healed. There’s not a mark on him. He lowers his shirt, slowly turning to his own reflection in the mirror to a look of shock.
Scott backs down a corridor hauling a huge bag of kitty litter. Setting it against the wall he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the next door. He barely has a foot inside the room when one of the cats hiss in terror. The cages filled with cats come alive with activity.
The frightened felines suddenly bare their teeth, hissing and clawing frenetically at the cage doors. All of them focused on Scott, their backs arched, struck with absolute terror. Stunned, he staggers out of the room, slamming the door shut.
Retreating into the waiting room, Scott can still hear the pandemonium coming from inside when a hammering knock spins him around.
Standing outside and banging on the glass door with her fist is Allison. Rain-soaked it’s nevertheless easy to see that she’s crying and in a visible panic. Quickly unlocking the door, Scott lets her in as she tries to explain through tears what happened.
“I didn’t see it. I took my eyes off the road for like two seconds to switch songs on my iPod and this dog--it came out of nowhere--“
“Okay, it’s all right,” Scott reassures, trying to calm her down. “Do you remember where it happened so I can send out animal control to find it?”
“No. I mean yes, I know where I hit it. But the dog--“
“Right. Where is it?”
“In my car.”
Following Allison to her car under the now drizzling rain, Scott opens the back seat door to reveal an injured stray. Hackles raised, the frightened lab mix is clearly in pain. Allison reaches in to pick him up but the dog snaps at her. She flinches back, stepping right into Scott’s arms.
“You okay?”
She nods, looking up at Scott behind her, his hands on her forearms, fingers lightly touching her soft skin.
“She’s just frightened.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Let me see if I have better luck.” Letting her go, Scott steps toward the open door, oddly calm.
“Careful.”
As he connects eyes with the dog, something happens... sound drops out around him, all except for the dog’s nervous panting. Then its harsh gasps begin to ease as some sort of primal communication occurs between them.
For the briefest moment, his eyes take on a strangely yellow tint, like that of a wolf.
In response, the dog lowers its body submissively, yielding to the obviously dominant animal.
With Allison watching in amazement, Scott gathers the dog into his arms and carries him into the vet’s office.
Inside, Scott gently lays the injured animal down on the examining table. Allison stays back, watching him inspect the dog while petting it, doing an expert job of calming it.
“I think her leg is broken. I can splint it now myself, give her a painkiller and then let the doctor take a look in the morning.”
Allison steals glances at him, looking on with admiration as he works. But Scott doesn’t notice, terrified to look at the beautiful girl. When he finally does look up, he sees she’s hugging herself, soaked and obviously freezing.
“I have a shirt in my bag.”
“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you.”
But Scott is already reaching into his bag for the shirt. Allison takes it with a smile. When she steps into the hall for privacy, Scott can’t help but notice her reflection in a wall mirror. As she’s pulling the wet shirt off, he catches sight of her bare back. Looking away, Scott notices the dog staring up at him.
“What? I didn’t see anything,” he whispers to the dog. The dog doesn’t look convinced. Allison comes back into the room, now wearing his shirt and no longer shivering.
“Thanks for doing this. I feel really stupid.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. For freaking out like a total girl.”
“You are a girl.”
“I freaked out like a girly girl. And I’m not a girly girl.”
“What kind of girl are you?”
“Tougher than that. At least I thought I was.”
Hearing her confession of weakness, Scott’s desperate to make her feel better. “I’d be freaked out too. In fact, I’d probably cry. And not like a man. I’d cry like the girliest girl. It would be pathetic.”
Laughing, Allison replies, “Yeah, right.”
Hearing her laugh, Scott grins and finishes wrapping the dog’s leg.
“So it looks like she’s going to live. And I’m pretty sure she’ll even let you pet her if you want.”
“I don’t think so.” Allison backs from the table with caution.
“Come on. You don’t want her to sue. This breed is very litigious.”
Allison approaches, tentatively reaching out to stroke the dog’s neck. Calm now, the dog even licks her hand.
“See? She likes you.”
He watches Allison. Unable to take his eyes off her. She looks up to meet his eyes.
“What?”
“Sorry. You have an eyelash on your cheek.”
“Oh. From the crying.”
She wipes at her cheek. But the lash is still there. Scott shakes his head. She tries again. Still there. So Scott reaches with his thumb to brush the lash from her cheek.
“Thanks.”
He nods, hand coming down like he’s not quite sure what to do with it.
“Um... I was wondering--I mean--is it really Family Night on Friday or do you think maybe you’d like to go to that party with me?”
She throws him a curious look. How did he know she said that?
“Family Night was a total lie.”
“So is that a yes? You’ll go?
“Definitely yes.”
—————
Scott falls back onto his bed, head hitting the pillow. Clearly exhausted, he nevertheless wears a huge grin on his face. His eyelids slowly close as he falls instantly asleep. Slowly he turns over on his side, rolling over and strangely onto a bed of wet leaves, causing him to wake suddenly and discover he’s no longer in his room.
Jerking up, Scott knocks his head against something. Reaching up, he touches rock.
Now fully awake and very alarmed, Scott, clothed only his boxers, scrambles out from beneath a cave-like overhang. Glancing about in breathless shock, he discovers he’s sleepwalked all the way out into the middle of the woods.
Scott staggers out of the cave-like overhang and stands in the fog-laden woods, shivering. He turns, trying to see just where he is and then... He holds very still, breath caught.
Head cocked, he listens to the sounds around him. As his heartbeat rises, he takes a barefooted step back. Then he notices that there’s not a sound of life in the woods. Until--
Something moves. In the fog. Only a few yards away. He turns around, peering into the woods. But leaves and twisting tree branches are all that move in the breeze. Half naked and very cold now, Scott backs away. He keeps glancing to each side as he starts to walk. Moving faster and faster, until he’s jogging and then running.
Hurtling into the fog and the woods, he begins to notice a shadow. Moving through the woods. Keeping pace with him. When he starts running faster, that strange loping silhouette moves just as fast.
And then he can see its eyes--like glowing white lights in the fog. The thing suddenly crosses behind him, a dark shape leaping from one side of him to the next, diving out of and then back into the fog.
Running faster and faster in terror while glancing to his side to see the strange silhouette racing with him, Scott seems to not merely be running but moving with almost supernatural speed until finally the shadow slows, letting him get ahead. But Scott keeps running faster and faster, the world around him blurring until his feet land on a low wooded fence and suddenly he’s soaring into the air and.. underwater?
Scott thrashes in freezing cold water, bursting to the surface to find himself in a pool. Gasping for breath, he twists around in the water to find the owner of the house holding a garden hose and staring at him.
“Uh... Good morning.”
And the Owner nods with a mystified smile.
—————
In an otherwise empty corridor, Scott, wearing his lacrosse gear, shoves his bag into his locker and slams it shut. He turns to find himself head to head with Jackson.
“All right, little man, how about you tell me where you’re getting your juice?”
“What?”
“Where. Are. You. Getting your juice?”
Utterly bewildered, Scott replies, “My Mom does all the grocery shopping.”
Jackson stares at him for a moment as if trying to decide whether the kid is screwing with him.
“Listen, McCall, you’re going to tell me what it is and who you’re buying from. Because there’s no way in hell you’re kicking ass like that on the field without some sort of chemical boost.
Scott seems genuinely shocked with this question, what is he talking about? “Oh, you mean steroids? Are you on steroids?”
Jackson grabs him, shoving him against the locker.
“What the hell’s going on with you, McCall?”
Overwhelmed, Scott snaps, words coming out in a torrent.
“What’s going on with me? You really want to know? So would I. Because I can see, hear and smell things I shouldn’t be able to see, hear or smell, do things that should be impossible, I’m sleepwalking three miles out into the middle of the woods and am pretty much convinced I’m going completely, totally out of my freaking mind.”
“You think you’re funny? I know you’re hiding something. I’m going to find out what it is. I don’t care how long it takes.”
Jackson slams his fist against the locker, leaving Scott stunned as he heads out.
—————
Amid the players rushing the field, a very late Stiles comes hurtling towards where Scott and I are sitting on the bench.
“Scott, wait up! You gotta’ hear this.”
“I’m playing the first elimination, Stiles. Can’t it wait?”
As per usual, he’s speaking 100 miles a minute. “Take a chill pill bro, what’s going on?”
“I overheard my Dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from LA. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods.”
“Stiles, I have to go,” Scott urges”
“You’re not going to believe what the animal was--“
But with his helmet on, Scott‘s already walking onto the field.
Leaving only Stiles and I on the side line, I ask, “What was it?”
“It was a wolf.”
Wait- so does that mean?
—————
Out on the field the Coach shouts for the players.
“All right, gather round...”
Scott notices Allison at the bleachers with Lydia. She gives him a wave and a smile. He holds up a hand to wave back.
“You got a question, McCall?”
“What?”
“You raised your hand.”
“Oh, no I was just--nothing. Sorry.”
Coach then turns to address the rest of the team.
“All right, you know how this goes. If you don’t make the cut, you’re most likely warming the bench the rest of the season. But make the cut and you play, your parents are proud, your girlfriend loves you, huh?” He grabs Greenberg’s helmet, giving it a wrestle. “Everything else is cream cheese... Now show me what you got!”
The whistle blows and the game begins.
The pace is fast and brutal. When the ball gets passed to Scott, Jackson comes right after him. Lacrosse sticks smacking down on his gloves, Scott tumbles forward and slams to the ground, kicking up dirt around him.
As the whistle stops the play, Jackson looms over Scott. Glowering down at him, he grabs the ball while Scott, teeth clenched behind his mask, pushes himself up off the ground. Coach gives the whistle a sharp blow. The team gathers for the next play.
Scott and Jackson find themselves staring across from each other at the draw, crouched down with their sticks and the ball between them.
“Set!”
They tense, holding absolutely still. Then, at the whistle, Scott moves with shocking speed, grabbing the ball right out from under Jackson. Scott charges the length of the field. defense lashes out with their sticks, but he parries expertly.
Jackson catches up and makes a furious stab at stealing the ball. Then with Defense converging on him, Scott twists his lacrosse stick around, keeping the ball safely in the pocket while he literally flips forward, leaping right over the heads of the Defensive Players. Feet landing on the turf, he whirls around, tossing the ball in an over the shoulder shot past the goalie.
Right into the net.
The crowd in the bleachers roars with cheers, Allison on her feet along with everyone else. Everyone except for Stiles and I. As the noise dies down, Coach calls for the winning player.
“McCall, get over here!”
He trots over to the Coach. All eyes are on him, including someone watching from behind a chain link fence... Derek.
“What in the name of God was that? This is a lacrosse field. What are you- trying out for the gymnastics team?”
“No, Coach.”
“Then what the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. I was just trying to make the shot.”
“Well, you made the shot. And guess what? You’re starting, buddy. You just made first line.”
Cheers erupt around him. As team members slap him on the back and knock his helmet with their gloves, a deliriously happy Scott doesn’t even notice Jackson’s furious stare. Or Stiles and I, watching with very worried looks.
—————
Fingers click furiously over a keyboard. Eyes locked on his laptop, Stiles bounces from one web page to the next. Words and images pop up on the screen.
As he sat at his desk tapping away on the computer, I was resting on his bed, stacks of books surrounding me on the blankets.
Wolfsbane, Silver Bullets, Lycaon, Aconite, drawings of werewolves in different forms, a purple image with the word “wolfsbane” underneath.
Hearing the whirr of the printer I look over to see Stiles pulling out a picture of a detailed wood carving of a medieval hunter standing over the body of a werewolf, aiming a crossbow at the creature.
He pulls the page out, turning towards me with a look of escalating fear when someone knocks on the door. We practically leap out of our seats as Stiles stands and rushes to the door, unlocking it to find Scott standing out in the hall.
“Get in. You have to see this. We’ve been up all night reading. Websites, books, all this information.”
As Scott takes off his jacket, Stiles starts grabbing printouts from his desk. Scott looks at me with confusion and I just shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say.
“How much Adderall have you guys had?”
“I haven’t had any but Stiles over there has been at it like candy.”
With a hurried look, Stiles rushes to the next topic. “Ok whatever, doesn’t matter. Just listen.”
Tossing his backpack on the floor, Scott sits next to me on the bed. I scoot over to make room and we both turn towards Stiles for him to explain.
“Is this about the body? Did they find who did it,” Scott asks.
“No, they’re still questioning people. Even Derek Hale.”
“The guy from the woods?”
Flailing his arms, Stiles exclaims, “Yeah! Yes, but that’s not it.”
“What then?”
Jumping in, I explain, “Remember the joke Stiles made the other day? Not a joke anymore.”
Continuing, Stiles adds, “The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading and-- Do you even know why a wolf howls?”
“Should I?”
“It’s a signal. When a wolf is alone
it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard it howling that mean there’s others. Maybe a whole pack of them.”
“A whole pack of wolves?”
“No. Werewolves.”
As I watch the two talk, Scott gets an increasingly annoyed look on his face. I decide not to interfere with the growing argument.
“You’re seriously wasting my time with this? You know, I’m picking Allison up in an hour.”
“I saw you on the field, Scott. What you did wasn’t just amazing. It was impossible.”
“So I made a good shot.”
“No, you made an incredible shot. The way you moved, the speed, your reflexes, people can’t suddenly do that overnight. And then there’s the vision, the senses, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you don’t need your inhaler anymore-“
Cutting in, Scott shouts, “Okay! I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Tomorrow? Don’t you get it? The full moon is tonight.”
“What are you trying to do? I just made first line, I have a date with a girl I can’t believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”
“I’m trying to help,” Stiles rebutted, “Your cursed, Scott. You know, and it’s not just the moon will cause you to physically change, it’s also when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”
“Bloodlust?”
“Yeah, Your urge to kill.”
“I’m already starting to have an urge to kill, Stiles.”
“You need to hear this,” Stiles looks at me and points to a book on the bed. “Can you pass me that? Thank you. The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse, alright?” Turning back towards Scott he continues, “And I’ve never seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You’ve gotta cancel this date.” Stiles grabs Scott’s jacket, pulling the cell out.
“What are you doing? Give me that.”
“I’m just finding her number--“
“Give it to me.”
Scott yanks the phone out of Stiles’s hand and shoves him against the wall.
I stand up, ready to intervene in case anything gets physical.
Pulling back before striking him, Scott instead lashes out at the desk chair sending it flying across the room, tossed like it weighed nothing. Then, shaking with anger, he gazes up.
“I’m sorry.”
He starts to help Stiles up, but he flinches back.
“Scott I think you should go.” I say, walk in between where the two are standing and gently put my hand on his chest nudging him back.
“I’ve- gotta to get ready for- for that party. I’m sorry.”
Grabbing his jacket, Scott hurries out.
Still shaken, Stiles gradually stands.
“You ok?”
He nods in response and slowly picks up the desk chair, putting it back. But then he pauses. With a shaky hand, he turns the chair around to reveal claw marks. The chair’s fabric slashed to ribbons.
Looking back up at me, we lock eyes. I can see fear shown in his and I know mine probably reflect the same.
A/N: Hey! Check out This Post to see a little message about my future posting schedule and announcements!
They/Them Pronouns Version
He/Him Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: swearing maybe
As thunder cracks in the sky above, Scott flips a closed sign on the doors to the Animal Clinic.
With a few spare bandages in his hand, Scott approaches one of the mirrors in the bathroom and lifts up his shirt.
Fingertips at the edge of the bandage he braces himself. Then rips it off. Sucking in a breath and shutting his eyes, he finds himself looking at-- nothing. The bite has completely healed. There’s not a mark on him. He lowers his shirt, slowly turning to his own reflection in the mirror to a look of shock.
Scott backs down a corridor hauling a huge bag of kitty litter. Setting it against the wall he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the next door. He barely has a foot inside the room when one of the cats hiss in terror. The cages filled with cats come alive with activity.
The frightened felines suddenly bare their teeth, hissing and clawing frenetically at the cage doors. All of them focused on Scott, their backs arched, struck with absolute terror. Stunned, he staggers out of the room, slamming the door shut.
Retreating into the waiting room, Scott can still hear the pandemonium coming from inside when a hammering knock spins him around.
Standing outside and banging on the glass door with her fist is Allison. Rain-soaked it’s nevertheless easy to see that she’s crying and in a visible panic. Quickly unlocking the door, Scott lets her in as she tries to explain through tears what happened.
“I didn’t see it. I took my eyes off the road for like two seconds to switch songs on my iPod and this dog--it came out of nowhere--“
“Okay, it’s all right,” Scott reassures, trying to calm her down. “Do you remember where it happened so I can send out animal control to find it?”
“No. I mean yes, I know where I hit it. But the dog--“
“Right. Where is it?”
“In my car.”
Following Allison to her car under the now drizzling rain, Scott opens the back seat door to reveal an injured stray. Hackles raised, the frightened lab mix is clearly in pain. Allison reaches in to pick him up but the dog snaps at her. She flinches back, stepping right into Scott’s arms.
“You okay?”
She nods, looking up at Scott behind her, his hands on her forearms, fingers lightly touching her soft skin.
“She’s just frightened.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Let me see if I have better luck.” Letting her go, Scott steps toward the open door, oddly calm.
“Careful.”
As he connects eyes with the dog, something happens... sound drops out around him, all except for the dog’s nervous panting. Then its harsh gasps begin to ease as some sort of primal communication occurs between them.
For the briefest moment, his eyes take on a strangely yellow tint, like that of a wolf.
In response, the dog lowers its body submissively, yielding to the obviously dominant animal.
With Allison watching in amazement, Scott gathers the dog into his arms and carries him into the vet’s office.
Inside, Scott gently lays the injured animal down on the examining table. Allison stays back, watching him inspect the dog while petting it, doing an expert job of calming it.
“I think her leg is broken. I can splint it now myself, give her a painkiller and then let the doctor take a look in the morning.”
Allison steals glances at him, looking on with admiration as he works. But Scott doesn’t notice, terrified to look at the beautiful girl. When he finally does look up, he sees she’s hugging herself, soaked and obviously freezing.
“I have a shirt in my bag.”
“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you.”
But Scott is already reaching into his bag for the shirt. Allison takes it with a smile. When she steps into the hall for privacy, Scott can’t help but notice her reflection in a wall mirror. As she’s pulling the wet shirt off, he catches sight of her bare back. Looking away, Scott notices the dog staring up at him.
“What? I didn’t see anything,” he whispers to the dog. The dog doesn’t look convinced. Allison comes back into the room, now wearing his shirt and no longer shivering.
“Thanks for doing this. I feel really stupid.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. For freaking out like a total girl.”
“You are a girl.”
“I freaked out like a girly girl. And I’m not a girly girl.”
“What kind of girl are you?”
“Tougher than that. At least I thought I was.”
Hearing her confession of weakness, Scott’s desperate to make her feel better. “I’d be freaked out too. In fact, I’d probably cry. And not like a man. I’d cry like the girliest girl. It would be pathetic.”
Laughing, Allison replies, “Yeah, right.”
Hearing her laugh, Scott grins and finishes wrapping the dog’s leg.
“So it looks like she’s going to live. And I’m pretty sure she’ll even let you pet her if you want.”
“I don’t think so.” Allison backs from the table with caution.
“Come on. You don’t want her to sue. This breed is very litigious.”
Allison approaches, tentatively reaching out to stroke the dog’s neck. Calm now, the dog even licks her hand.
“See? She likes you.”
He watches Allison. Unable to take his eyes off her. She looks up to meet his eyes.
“What?”
“Sorry. You have an eyelash on your cheek.”
“Oh. From the crying.”
She wipes at her cheek. But the lash is still there. Scott shakes his head. She tries again. Still there. So Scott reaches with his thumb to brush the lash from her cheek.
“Thanks.”
He nods, hand coming down like he’s not quite sure what to do with it.
“Um... I was wondering--I mean--is it really Family Night on Friday or do you think maybe you’d like to go to that party with me?”
She throws him a curious look. How did he know she said that?
“Family Night was a total lie.”
“So is that a yes? You’ll go?
“Definitely yes.”
—————
Scott falls back onto his bed, head hitting the pillow. Clearly exhausted, he nevertheless wears a huge grin on his face. His eyelids slowly close as he falls instantly asleep. Slowly he turns over on his side, rolling over and strangely onto a bed of wet leaves, causing him to wake suddenly and discover he’s no longer in his room.
Jerking up, Scott knocks his head against something. Reaching up, he touches rock.
Now fully awake and very alarmed, Scott, clothed only his boxers, scrambles out from beneath a cave-like overhang. Glancing about in breathless shock, he discovers he’s sleepwalked all the way out into the middle of the woods.
Scott staggers out of the cave-like overhang and stands in the fog-laden woods, shivering. He turns, trying to see just where he is and then... He holds very still, breath caught.
Head cocked, he listens to the sounds around him. As his heartbeat rises, he takes a barefooted step back. Then he notices that there’s not a sound of life in the woods. Until--
Something moves. In the fog. Only a few yards away. He turns around, peering into the woods. But leaves and twisting tree branches are all that move in the breeze. Half naked and very cold now, Scott backs away. He keeps glancing to each side as he starts to walk. Moving faster and faster, until he’s jogging and then running.
Hurtling into the fog and the woods, he begins to notice a shadow. Moving through the woods. Keeping pace with him. When he starts running faster, that strange loping silhouette moves just as fast.
And then he can see its eyes--like glowing white lights in the fog. The thing suddenly crosses behind him, a dark shape leaping from one side of him to the next, diving out of and then back into the fog.
Running faster and faster in terror while glancing to his side to see the strange silhouette racing with him, Scott seems to not merely be running but moving with almost supernatural speed until finally the shadow slows, letting him get ahead. But Scott keeps running faster and faster, the world around him blurring until his feet land on a low wooded fence and suddenly he’s soaring into the air and.. underwater?
Scott thrashes in freezing cold water, bursting to the surface to find himself in a pool. Gasping for breath, he twists around in the water to find the owner of the house holding a garden hose and staring at him.
“Uh... Good morning.”
And the Owner nods with a mystified smile.
—————
In an otherwise empty corridor, Scott, wearing his lacrosse gear, shoves his bag into his locker and slams it shut. He turns to find himself head to head with Jackson.
“All right, little man, how about you tell me where you’re getting your juice?”
“What?”
“Where. Are. You. Getting your juice?”
Utterly bewildered, Scott replies, “My Mom does all the grocery shopping.”
Jackson stares at him for a moment as if trying to decide whether the kid is screwing with him.
“Listen, McCall, you’re going to tell me what it is and who you’re buying from. Because there’s no way in hell you’re kicking ass like that on the field without some sort of chemical boost.
Scott seems genuinely shocked with this question, what is he talking about? “Oh, you mean steroids? Are you on steroids?”
Jackson grabs him, shoving him against the locker.
“What the hell’s going on with you, McCall?”
Overwhelmed, Scott snaps, words coming out in a torrent.
“What’s going on with me? You really want to know? So would I. Because I can see, hear and smell things I shouldn’t be able to see, hear or smell, do things that should be impossible, I’m sleepwalking three miles out into the middle of the woods and am pretty much convinced I’m going completely, totally out of my freaking mind.”
“You think you’re funny? I know you’re hiding something. I’m going to find out what it is. I don’t care how long it takes.”
Jackson slams his fist against the locker, leaving Scott stunned as he heads out.
—————
Amid the players rushing the field, a very late Stiles comes hurtling towards where Scott and I are sitting on the bench.
“Scott, wait up! You gotta’ hear this.”
“I’m playing the first elimination, Stiles. Can’t it wait?”
As per usual, he’s speaking 100 miles a minute. “Take a chill pill bro, what’s going on?”
“I overheard my Dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from LA. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods.”
“Stiles, I have to go,” Scott urges”
“You’re not going to believe what the animal was--“
But with his helmet on, Scott‘s already walking onto the field.
Leaving only Stiles and I on the side line, I ask him, “What was it?”
“It was a wolf.”
Wait- so does that mean?
—————
Out on the field the Coach shouts for the players.
“All right, gather round...”
Scott notices Allison at the bleachers with Lydia. She gives him a wave and a smile. He holds up a hand to wave back.
“You got a question, McCall?”
“What?”
“You raised your hand.”
“Oh, no I was just--nothing. Sorry.”
Coach then turns to address the rest of the team.
“All right, you know how this goes. If you don’t make the cut, you’re most likely warming the bench the rest of the season. But make the cut and you play, your parents are proud, your girlfriend loves you, huh?” He grabs Greenberg’s helmet, giving it a wrestle. “Everything else is cream cheese... Now show me what you got!”
The whistle blows and the game begins.
The pace is fast and brutal. When the ball gets passed to Scott, Jackson comes right after him. Lacrosse sticks smacking down on his gloves, Scott tumbles forward and slams to the ground, kicking up dirt around him.
As the whistle stops the play, Jackson looms over Scott. Glowering down at him, he grabs the ball while Scott, teeth clenched behind his mask, pushes himself up off the ground. Coach gives the whistle a sharp blow. The team gathers for the next play.
Scott and Jackson find themselves staring across from each other at the draw, crouched down with their sticks and the ball between them.
“Set!”
They tense, holding absolutely still. Then, at the whistle, Scott moves with shocking speed, grabbing the ball right out from under Jackson. Scott charges the length of the field. defense lashes out with their sticks, but he parries expertly.
Jackson catches up and makes a furious stab at stealing the ball. Then with Defense converging on him, Scott twists his lacrosse stick around, keeping the ball safely in the pocket while he literally flips forward, leaping right over the heads of the Defensive Players. Feet landing on the turf, he whirls around, tossing the ball in an over the shoulder shot past the goalie.
Right into the net.
The crowd in the bleachers roars with cheers, Allison on her feet along with everyone else. Everyone except for Stiles and I. As the noise dies down, Coach calls for the winning player.
“McCall, get over here!”
He trots over to the Coach. All eyes are on him, including someone watching from behind a chain link fence... Derek.
“What in the name of God was that? This is a lacrosse field. What are you- trying out for the gymnastics team?”
“No, Coach.”
“Then what the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. I was just trying to make the shot.”
“Well, you made the shot. And guess what? You’re starting, buddy. You just made first line.”
Cheers erupt around him. As team members slap him on the back and knock his helmet with their gloves, a deliriously happy Scott doesn’t even notice Jackson’s furious stare. Or Stiles and I, watching with very worried looks.
—————
Fingers click furiously over a keyboard. Eyes locked on his laptop, Stiles bounces from one web page to the next. Words and images pop up on the screen.
As he sat at his desk tapping away on the computer, I was resting on his bed, stacks of books surrounding me on the blankets.
Wolfsbane, Silver Bullets, Lycaon, Aconite, drawings of werewolves in different forms, a purple with the word “wolfsbane” underneath.
Hearing the whirr of the printer I look over to see Stiles pulling out a picture of a detailed wood carving of a medieval hunter standing over the body of a werewolf, aiming a crossbow at the creature.
He pulls the page out, turning towards me with a look of escalating fear when someone knocks on the door. We practically leap out of our seats as Stiles stands and rushes to the door, unlocking it to find Scott standing out in the hall.
“Get in. You have to see this. We’ve been up all night reading. Websites, books, all this information.”
As Scott takes off his jacket, Stiles starts grabbing printouts from his desk. Scott looks at me with confusion and I just shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say.
“How much Adderall have you guys had?”
“I haven’t had any but Stiles over there has been at it like candy.”
With a hurried look, Stiles rushes to the next topic. “Ok whatever, doesn’t matter. Just listen.”
Tossing his backpack on the floor, Scott sits next to me on the bed. I scoot over to make room and we both turn towards Stiles for him to explain.
“Is this about the body? Did they find who did it,” Scott asks.
“No, they’re still questioning people. Even Derek Hale.”
“The guy from the woods?”
Flailing his arms, Stiles exclaims, “Yeah! Yes, but that’s not it.”
“What then?”
Jumping in, I explain, “Remember the joke Stiles made the other day? Not a joke anymore.”
Continuing, Stiles adds, “The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading and-- Do you even know why a wolf howls?”
“Should I?”
“It’s a signal. When a wolf is alone
it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard it howling that mean there’s others. Maybe a whole pack of them.”
“A whole pack of wolves?”
“No. Werewolves.”
As I watch the two talk, Scott gets an increasingly annoyed look on his face. I decide not to interfere with the growing argument.
“You’re seriously wasting my time with this? You know, I’m picking Allison up in an hour.”
“I saw you on the field, Scott. What you did wasn’t just amazing. It was impossible.”
“So I made a good shot.”
“No, you made an incredible shot. The way you moved, the speed, your reflexes, people can’t suddenly do that overnight. And then there’s the vision, the senses, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you don’t need your inhaler anymore-“
Cutting in, Scott shouts, “Okay! I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Tomorrow? Don’t you get it? The full moon is tonight.”
“What are you trying to do? I just made first line, I have a date with a girl I can’t believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”
“I’m trying to help,” Stiles rebutted, “Your cursed, Scott. You know, and it’s not just the moon will cause you to physically change, it’s also when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”
“Bloodlust?”
“Yeah, Your urge to kill.”
“I’m already starting to have an urge to kill, Stiles.”
“You need to hear this,” Stiles looks at me and points to a book on the bed. “Can you pass me that? Thank you. The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse, alright?” Turning back towards Scott he continues, “And I’ve never seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You’ve gotta cancel this date.” Stiles grabs Scott’s jacket, pulling the cell out.
“What are you doing? Give me that.”
“I’m just finding her number--“
“Give it to me.”
Scott yanks the phone out of Stiles’s hand and shoves him against the wall.
I stand up, ready to intervene in case anything gets physical.
Pulling back before striking him, Scott instead lashes out at the desk chair sending it flying across the room, tossed like it weighed nothing. Then, shaking with anger, he gazes up.
“I’m sorry.”
He starts to help Stiles up, but he flinches back.
“Scott I think you should go.” I say, walk in between where the two are standing and gently put my hand on his chest nudging him back.
“I’ve- gotta to get ready for- for that party. I’m sorry.”
Grabbing his jacket, Scott hurries out.
Still shaken, Stiles gradually stands.
“You ok?”
He nods in response and slowly picks up the desk chair, putting it back. But then he pauses. With a shaky hand, he turns the chair around to reveal claw marks. The chair’s fabric slashed to ribbons.
Looking back up at me, we lock eyes. I can see fear shown in his and I know mine probably reflect the same.
A/N: Hey! Check out This Post to see a little message about my future posting schedule and announcements!
They/Them Pronouns Version
She/Her Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: swearing maybe
As thunder cracks in the sky above, Scott flips a closed sign on the doors to the Animal Clinic.
With a few spare bandages in his hand, Scott approaches one of the mirrors in the bathroom and lifts up his shirt.
Fingertips at the edge of the bandage he braces himself. Then rips it off. Sucking in a breath and shutting his eyes, he finds himself looking at-- nothing. The bite has completely healed. There’s not a mark on him. He lowers his shirt, slowly turning to his own reflection in the mirror to a look of shock.
Scott backs down a corridor hauling a huge bag of kitty litter. Setting it against the wall he takes out a set of keys and unlocks the next door. He barely has a foot inside the room when one of the cats hiss in terror. The cages filled with cats come alive with activity.
The frightened felines suddenly bare their teeth, hissing and clawing frenetically at the cage doors. All of them focused on Scott, their backs arched, struck with absolute terror. Stunned, he staggers out of the room, slamming the door shut.
Retreating into the waiting room, Scott can still hear the pandemonium coming from inside when a hammering knock spins him around.
Standing outside and banging on the glass door with her fist is Allison. Rain-soaked it’s nevertheless easy to see that she’s crying and in a visible panic. Quickly unlocking the door, Scott lets her in as she tries to explain through tears what happened.
“I didn’t see it. I took my eyes off the road for like two seconds to switch songs on my iPod and this dog--it came out of nowhere--“
“Okay, it’s all right,” Scott reassures, trying to calm her down. “Do you remember where it happened so I can send out animal control to find it?”
“No. I mean yes, I know where I hit it. But the dog--“
“Right. Where is it?”
“In my car.”
Following Allison to her car under the now drizzling rain, Scott opens the back seat door to reveal an injured stray. Hackles raised, the frightened lab mix is clearly in pain. Allison reaches in to pick him up but the dog snaps at her. She flinches back, stepping right into Scott’s arms.
“You okay?”
She nods, looking up at Scott behind her, his hands on her forearms, fingers lightly touching her soft skin.
“She’s just frightened.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Let me see if I have better luck.” Letting her go, Scott steps toward the open door, oddly calm.
“Careful.”
As he connects eyes with the dog, something happens... sound drops out around him, all except for the dog’s nervous panting. Then its harsh gasps begin to ease as some sort of primal communication occurs between them.
For the briefest moment, his eyes take on a strangely yellow tint, like that of a wolf.
In response, the dog lowers its body submissively, yielding to the obviously dominant animal.
With Allison watching in amazement, Scott gathers the dog into his arms and carries him into the vet’s office.
Inside, Scott gently lays the injured animal down on the examining table. Allison stays back, watching him inspect the dog while petting it, doing an expert job of calming it.
“I think her leg is broken. I can splint it now myself, give her a painkiller and then let the doctor take a look in the morning.”
Allison steals glances at him, looking on with admiration as he works. But Scott doesn’t notice, terrified to look at the beautiful girl. When he finally does look up, he sees she’s hugging herself, soaked and obviously freezing.
“I have a shirt in my bag.”
“Oh, I don’t want to trouble you.”
But Scott is already reaching into his bag for the shirt. Allison takes it with a smile. When she steps into the hall for privacy, Scott can’t help but notice her reflection in a wall mirror. As she’s pulling the wet shirt off, he catches sight of her bare back. Looking away, Scott notices the dog staring up at him.
“What? I didn’t see anything,” he whispers to the dog. The dog doesn’t look convinced. Allison comes back into the room, now wearing his shirt and no longer shivering.
“Thanks for doing this. I feel really stupid.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know. For freaking out like a total girl.”
“You are a girl.”
“I freaked out like a girly girl. And I’m not a girly girl.”
“What kind of girl are you?”
“Tougher than that. At least I thought I was.”
Hearing her confession of weakness, Scott’s desperate to make her feel better. “I’d be freaked out too. In fact, I’d probably cry. And not like a man. I’d cry like the girliest girl. It would be pathetic.”
Laughing, Allison replies, “Yeah, right.”
Hearing her laugh, Scott grins and finishes wrapping the dog’s leg.
“So it looks like she’s going to live. And I’m pretty sure she’ll even let you pet her if you want.”
“I don’t think so.” Allison backs from the table with caution.
“Come on. You don’t want her to sue. This breed is very litigious.”
Allison approaches, tentatively reaching out to stroke the dog’s neck. Calm now, the dog even licks her hand.
“See? She likes you.”
He watches Allison. Unable to take his eyes off her. She looks up to meet his eyes.
“What?”
“Sorry. You have an eyelash on your cheek.”
“Oh. From the crying.”
She wipes at her cheek. But the lash is still there. Scott shakes his head. She tries again. Still there. So Scott reaches with his thumb to brush the lash from her cheek.
“Thanks.”
He nods, hand coming down like he’s not quite sure what to do with it.
“Um... I was wondering--I mean--is it really Family Night on Friday or do you think maybe you’d like to go to that party with me?”
She throws him a curious look. How did he know she said that?
“Family Night was a total lie.”
“So is that a yes? You’ll go?
“Definitely yes.”
—————
Scott falls back onto his bed, head hitting the pillow. Clearly exhausted, he nevertheless wears a huge grin on his face. His eyelids slowly close as he falls instantly asleep. Slowly he turns over on his side, rolling over and strangely onto a bed of wet leaves, causing him to wake suddenly and discover he’s no longer in his room.
Jerking up, Scott knocks his head against something. Reaching up, he touches rock.
Now fully awake and very alarmed, Scott, clothed only his boxers, scrambles out from beneath a cave-like overhang. Glancing about in breathless shock, he discovers he’s sleepwalked all the way out into the middle of the woods.
Scott staggers out of the cave-like overhang and stands in the fog-laden woods, shivering. He turns, trying to see just where he is and then... He holds very still, breath caught.
Head cocked, he listens to the sounds around him. As his heartbeat rises, he takes a barefooted step back. Then he notices that there’s not a sound of life in the woods. Until--
Something moves. In the fog. Only a few yards away. He turns around, peering into the woods. But leaves and twisting tree branches are all that move in the breeze. Half naked and very cold now, Scott backs away. He keeps glancing to each side as he starts to walk. Moving faster and faster, until he’s jogging and then running.
Hurtling into the fog and the woods, he begins to notice a shadow. Moving through the woods. Keeping pace with him. When he starts running faster, that strange loping silhouette moves just as fast.
And then he can see its eyes--like glowing white lights in the fog. The thing suddenly crosses behind him, a dark shape leaping from one side of him to the next, diving out of and then back into the fog.
Running faster and faster in terror while glancing to his side to see the strange silhouette racing with him, Scott seems to not merely be running but moving with almost supernatural speed until finally the shadow slows, letting him get ahead. But Scott keeps running faster and faster, the world around him blurring until his feet land on a low wooded fence and suddenly he’s soaring into the air and.. underwater?
Scott thrashes in freezing cold water, bursting to the surface to find himself in a pool. Gasping for breath, he twists around in the water to find the owner of the house holding a garden hose and staring at him.
“Uh... Good morning.”
And the Owner nods with a mystified smile.
—————
In an otherwise empty corridor, Scott, wearing his lacrosse gear, shoves his bag into his locker and slams it shut. He turns to find himself head to head with Jackson.
“All right, little man, how about you tell me where you’re getting your juice?”
“What?”
“Where. Are. You. Getting your juice?”
Utterly bewildered, Scott replies, “My Mom does all the grocery shopping.”
Jackson stares at him for a moment as if trying to decide whether the kid is screwing with him.
“Listen, McCall, you’re going to tell me what it is and who you’re buying from. Because there’s no way in hell you’re kicking ass like that on the field without some sort of chemical boost.
Scott seems genuinely shocked with this question, what is he talking about? “Oh, you mean steroids? Are you on steroids?”
Jackson grabs him, shoving him against the locker.
“What the hell’s going on with you, McCall?”
Overwhelmed, Scott snaps, words coming out in a torrent.
“What’s going on with me? You really want to know? So would I. Because I can see, hear and smell things I shouldn’t be able to see, hear or smell, do things that should be impossible, I’m sleepwalking three miles out into the middle of the woods and am pretty much convinced I’m going completely, totally out of my freaking mind.”
“You think you’re funny? I know you’re hiding something. I’m going to find out what it is. I don’t care how long it takes.”
Jackson slams his fist against the locker, leaving Scott stunned as he heads out.
—————
Amid the players rushing the field, a very late Stiles comes hurtling towards where Scott and I are sitting on the bench.
“Scott, wait up! You gotta’ hear this.”
“I’m playing the first elimination, Stiles. Can’t it wait?”
As per usual, he’s speaking 100 miles a minute. “Take a chill pill bro, what’s going on?”
“I overheard my Dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from LA. They found animal hairs on the body from the woods.”
“Stiles, I have to go,” Scott urges”
“You’re not going to believe what the animal was--“
But with his helmet on, Scott‘s already walking onto the field.
Leaving only Stiles and I on the side line, I ask him, “What was it?”
“It was a wolf.”
Wait- so does that mean?
—————
Out on the field the Coach shouts for the players.
“All right, gather round...”
Scott notices Allison at the bleachers with Lydia. She gives him a wave and a smile. He holds up a hand to wave back.
“You got a question, McCall?”
“What?”
“You raised your hand.”
“Oh, no I was just--nothing. Sorry.”
Coach then turns to address the rest of the team.
“All right, you know how this goes. If you don’t make the cut, you’re most likely warming the bench the rest of the season. But make the cut and you play, your parents are proud, your girlfriend loves you, huh?” He grabs Greenberg’s helmet, giving it a wrestle. “Everything else is cream cheese... Now show me what you got!”
The whistle blows and the game begins.
The pace is fast and brutal. When the ball gets passed to Scott, Jackson comes right after him. Lacrosse sticks smacking down on his gloves, Scott tumbles forward and slams to the ground, kicking up dirt around him.
As the whistle stops the play, Jackson looms over Scott. Glowering down at him, he grabs the ball while Scott, teeth clenched behind his mask, pushes himself up off the ground. Coach gives the whistle a sharp blow. The team gathers for the next play.
Scott and Jackson find themselves staring across from each other at the draw, crouched down with their sticks and the ball between them.
“Set!”
They tense, holding absolutely still. Then, at the whistle, Scott moves with shocking speed, grabbing the ball right out from under Jackson. Scott charges the length of the field. defense lashes out with their sticks, but he parries expertly.
Jackson catches up and makes a furious stab at stealing the ball. Then with Defense converging on him, Scott twists his lacrosse stick around, keeping the ball safely in the pocket while he literally flips forward, leaping right over the heads of the Defensive Players. Feet landing on the turf, he whirls around, tossing the ball in an over the shoulder shot past the goalie.
Right into the net.
The crowd in the bleachers roars with cheers, Allison on her feet along with everyone else. Everyone except for Stiles and I. As the noise dies down, Coach calls for the winning player.
“McCall, get over here!”
He trots over to the Coach. All eyes are on him, including someone watching from behind a chain link fence... Derek.
“What in the name of God was that? This is a lacrosse field. What are you- trying out for the gymnastics team?”
“No, Coach.”
“Then what the hell was that?”
“I don’t know. I was just trying to make the shot.”
“Well, you made the shot. And guess what? You’re starting, buddy. You just made first line.”
Cheers erupt around him. As team members slap him on the back and knock his helmet with their gloves, a deliriously happy Scott doesn’t even notice Jackson’s furious stare. Or Stiles and I, watching with very worried looks.
—————
Fingers click furiously over a keyboard. Eyes locked on his laptop, Stiles bounces from one web page to the next. Words and images pop up on the screen.
As he sat at his desk tapping away on the computer, I was resting on his bed, stacks of books surrounding me on the blankets.
Wolfsbane, Silver Bullets, Lycaon, Aconite, drawings of werewolves in different forms, a purple with the word “wolfsbane” underneath.
Hearing the whirr of the printer I look over to see Stiles pulling out a picture of a detailed wood carving of a medieval hunter standing over the body of a werewolf, aiming a crossbow at the creature.
He pulls the page out, turning towards me with a look of escalating fear when someone knocks on the door. We practically leap out of our seats as Stiles stands and rushes to the door, unlocking it to find Scott standing out in the hall.
“Get in. You have to see this. We’ve been up all night reading. Websites, books, all this information.”
As Scott takes off his jacket, Stiles starts grabbing printouts from his desk. Scott looks at me with confusion and I just shrug my shoulders, not knowing what to say.
“How much Adderall have you guys had?”
“I haven’t had any but Stiles over there has been at it like candy.”
With a hurried look, Stiles rushes to the next topic. “Ok whatever, doesn’t matter. Just listen.”
Tossing his backpack on the floor, Scott sits next to me on the bed. I scoot over to make room and we both turn towards Stiles for him to explain.
“Is this about the body? Did they find who did it,” Scott asks.
“No, they’re still questioning people. Even Derek Hale.”
“The guy from the woods?”
Flailing his arms, Stiles exclaims, “Yeah! Yes, but that’s not it.”
“What then?”
Jumping in, I explain, “Remember the joke Stiles made the other day? Not a joke anymore.”
Continuing, Stiles adds, “The wolf. The bite in the woods. I started doing all this reading and-- Do you even know why a wolf howls?”
“Should I?”
“It’s a signal. When a wolf is alone
it howls to signal its location to the rest of the pack. So if you heard it howling that mean there’s others. Maybe a whole pack of them.”
“A whole pack of wolves?”
“No. Werewolves.”
As I watch the two talk, Scott gets an increasingly annoyed look on his face. I decide not to interfere with the growing argument.
“You’re seriously wasting my time with this? You know, I’m picking Allison up in an hour.”
“I saw you on the field, Scott. What you did wasn’t just amazing. It was impossible.”
“So I made a good shot.”
“No, you made an incredible shot. The way you moved, the speed, your reflexes, people can’t suddenly do that overnight. And then there’s the vision, the senses, and don’t think I haven’t noticed you don’t need your inhaler anymore-“
Cutting in, Scott shouts, “Okay! I can’t think about this now. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”
“Tomorrow? Don’t you get it? The full moon is tonight.”
“What are you trying to do? I just made first line, I have a date with a girl I can’t believe wants to go out with me. Everything in my life is somehow perfect. Why are you trying to ruin it?”
“I’m trying to help,” Stiles rebutted, “Your cursed, Scott. You know, and it’s not just the moon will cause you to physically change, it’s also when your bloodlust will be at its peak.”
“Bloodlust?”
“Yeah, Your urge to kill.”
“I’m already starting to have an urge to kill, Stiles.”
“You need to hear this,” Stiles looks at me and points to a book on the bed. “Can you pass me that? Thank you. The change can be caused by anger or anything that raises your pulse, alright?” Turning back towards Scott he continues, “And I’ve never seen anyone raise your pulse like Allison does. You’ve gotta cancel this date.” Stiles grabs Scott’s jacket, pulling the cell out.
“What are you doing? Give me that.”
“I’m just finding her number--“
“Give it to me.”
Scott yanks the phone out of Stiles’s hand and shoves him against the wall.
I stand up, ready to intervene in case anything gets physical.
Pulling back before striking him, Scott instead lashes out at the desk chair sending it flying across the room, tossed like it weighed nothing. Then, shaking with anger, he gazes up.
“I’m sorry.”
He starts to help Stiles up, but he flinches back.
“Scott I think you should go.” I say, walk in between where the two are standing and gently put my hand on his chest nudging him back.
“I’ve- gotta to get ready for- for that party. I’m sorry.”
Grabbing his jacket, Scott hurries out.
Still shaken, Stiles gradually stands.
“You ok?”
He nods in response and slowly picks up the desk chair, putting it back. But then he pauses. With a shaky hand, he turns the chair around to reveal claw marks. The chair’s fabric slashed to ribbons.
Looking back up at me, we lock eyes. I can see fear shown in his and I know mine probably reflect the same.
I’ve kinda been writing a lot recently, (I have school in a few days though so that might slow down) but I’ve come to the realization that me posting once every week which was gonna be my posting schedule (cause the chapters are p long) it would take me actual years to complete the series rewrite. So honestly I might just post whenever or not post, depending on my personal life and schedule. Just a little heads up for you guys and what to expect :)
A/N: Let me know if any of the links are wacky or if I mess up on any of the pronouns cause posting three versions is sometimes a bit confusing so I can fix it if needed. Also lmk if there’s a misspelling or grammar issue too :)
She/Her Pronouns Version
They/Them Pronouns Version
Next Part / Masterlist
Warnings: dead body, swearing
Lacrosse stick strapped to his backpack, Scott pedals into the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School among the swarm of students. Skateboarders jump steps, potheads take barely concealed tokes, girls and guys hold hands, guys and guys hold hands, (yes it’s California.)
As Scott pulls his bike to one of the racks to lock it up, a pristine BMW with a license plate that reads: JCKSN37, blazes into the lot and stops in the space next to the racks. Scott, still kneeling, gets bumped in the back when the driver’s side door opens.
Jackson Whittemore, exceptionally good-looking and usually oblivious to anyone not within his social or financial circle, steps out to notice that Scott hit his car by being near it.
“Dude. Watch the paint job.”
He’s completely unaware of hitting Scott as he grabs his own lacrosse equipment.
“Yo Jackson!”
Hearing his favorite word, Jackson looks up and heads over to meet his friends. All good looking jocks with big smiles and expensive cars, pretty girls coming up to say hello.
—————
A school bell rings outside a brick building swarming with students.
“Alright let’s see this thing,” Stiles says, a little too eagerly. Now standing in front of the school, Scott takes off his backpack and pulls his shirt up a few inches to show Stiles and I the bandage on his lower back.
“Oh damn that looks bad!” I reach out to touch it and Scott flinches back. “Oops, sorry”
“It was too dark to see much but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”
Scoffing, Stiles countered “A wolf bit you? No, not a chance.”
“I heard a wolf howling.”
”No, you didn’t.”
“What do you mean ‘No, I didn’t?’ How do you know what I heard?”
Jumping in, I explained, “California doesn’t have wolves. Not for the last sixty years. The animals were almost hunted to extinction in the 1920s California Gold Rush.” Both boys looked at me in surprise. “What,” I questioned, “I like history.”
Seemingly accepting that answer Scott continued on. “Well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf, then you’re definitely not going to believe me when I tell you I saw the body.”
“Holy shit!” This was amazing!
“You what? Are you kidding me!?” He almost looked like a kid who just found the hidden candy cabinet.
“I wish. I’m going to have nightmares about it for a month.”
There was still one thing I’ve been wondering about though, “Which half of the body was it?”
“Oh- it was the top half. I saw her dead eyes staring back at me. It was scary.” Scott shuddered, thinking about her lifeless body laying in the forrest.
“Well I think that’s freaking awesome,” Stiles concluded. “This is seriously the best thing that’s happened to this town since...”
Stiles suddenly got very distracted by something behind Scott. I turned around to see what it is and you’ll never guess.
“...since the birth of Lydia Martin who’s walking toward us right now.”
A drop-dead gorgeous junior named Lydia Martin was walking towards the school doors like it was a fashion show runway in Milan. Stiles has had the biggest crush on Lydia ever since we were kids.
“Hey Lydia, how are you? You look--” She walks right past him not even giving him a second glance. “...like you’re going to ignore me.”
Scott chuckled at his failed attempt in flirting with the girl as I pat him on his shoulder.
“You’ll get her next time champ.” Stiles shot me an unappreciative glare as I held my hands up in defense and he started grumbling about how unfair everything was.
“You guys are the cause of this, you know. Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I’m a nerd by association. I’ve been Scarlet-nerded by you.”
As we reach the steps of the school I get ready to part with the dynamic duo to get to my class. “Alright boys, I’ve got first with Harris so I’ll see y’all later.” Mentions of good luck were lost behind me as I entered the thick crowd ready to start the day.
—————
First period English. Scott takes the desk next to Stiles as the teacher, Mr. Curtis starts writing instructions on the chalkboard.
“As you all know by now, there was indeed a body found in the woods last night. I’m sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened but I’ve been told that the police have a suspect in custody.”
Scott looks to Stiles who shrugs, news to him as well.
“Which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus on your desk outlining the semester. Read it now. And by read I don’t mean skim.”
As the students begin reading a cell phone starts ringing out of nowhere. Scott glances up and looks around. The other students quietly read the syllabus, seemingly not hearing the noise. Gazing about, he can’t seem to find the source until his eyes fall on the windows of the classroom...
Outside - across the quad, Scott sees a girl sitting on a bench who he will come to know as Allison Argent. Sixteen and radiating with an innocent beauty. When she puts the cell phone to her ear, it becomes obvious that, despite the closed windows and the distance, this is the ringing Scott is somehow able to hear.
More astonishingly, Scott can hear both Allison and her caller.
“Mom, three calls on my first day is a little overdoing it,” Allison teased.
“Just making sure you’re there okay and you’ve got everything you need.” But Allison digs through her bag, becoming alarmed.
“Everything except a pen. Oh my God, I didn’t actually forget a pen.”
“Don’t panic. I’m sure you can borrow one from another student.”
“Okay, okay, I gotta’ go. Love ya.”
Unable to take his eyes off the extraordinary girl, Scott watches the school’s principal join her on the steps.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” The Principal guides her across the quad, their conversation becoming clearer to Scott with every step.
“So you were saying San Francisco isn’t where you grew up?”
“No, but we stayed for more than a year which is unusual in my family.”
Even when Allison and the Principal disappear from view, Scott hears the clatter of the building door opening, the clicking of their heels on the tile floor of the hall.
“Well, hopefully, Beacon Hills is your last stop for a while.” The door to the classroom opened, causing the rest of the class to look up.
The principle turns to address the room. “Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”
Scott barely breathes as Allison heads for the one empty desk left in the room. Right behind him. She puts her notebook down, then glances up to see Scott turned toward her. Holding out a pen. With a relieved but curious smile, she takes it from him.
“Thanks.”
Scott gives her a nod, turning around with a proud expression. Looking up at the front of the room, Mr. Curtis stands up to start the lesson.
“We’ll begin with Kafka’s metamorphosis on page 133...”
—————
The school bell rings throughout the halls indicating its time to move to your next class. As I walked out of my classroom I spotted Stiles coming out of his. Jogging towards him to catch up, I shout his name to grab his attention. Whipping his head around he greets me with the classic, dopey, Stilinski smile. “Hey bub, what’s up?” I ask.
Rolling his eyes at the nickname, he grumbles all about how boring his English class was. “...oh! And there’s a new girl at school today!”
Interesting, I thought. Spotting Scott in the distance we both quicken our pace to meet with him at his locker.
—————
As he grabs his lock to open the door, Scott hears Allison just down the corridor. Looking towards where she stands they connect eyes. She starts to smile, recognizing the cute guy who gave her the pen. But then Lydia Martin swoops in front of her.
“That jacket is absolutely killer. Where did you get it?”
“My Mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco,” Allison explains.
Suddenly Jackson, Lydia’s boyfriend, walks up to the pair and puts his arm around Lydia and she greets him with a kiss.
Turning back towards his locker, Scott spotted Y/N and Stiles walking up to him.
—————
Looking at the Alpha Male and his arm candy across the hall, I turn towards the boys with a confused look on my face.
“Can someone tell me how the new girl is here all of five minutes and she’s already hanging with Lydia’s clique?”
“Because she’s hot. Beautiful people herd together,” Stiles answers. He’s got a point. He steps up to open his own locker next to Scott’s.
“Is that why Lydia isn’t herding with you?”
“Lydia’s a long term project, okay? And trust me, I’ve got all the patience in the world for a high yield investment like her.”
You’ve got to give him credit. He’s committed.
—————
Head cocked slightly, Scott tunes into the conversation from the other end of the corridor, voices coming into focus.
“So,” Lydia exclaims, “this weekend there’s a party.”
“A party?”
Jackson leaned on the lockers next to him, arm now wrapped around Lydias torso. “Yeah, Friday night. You should come.”
“I can’t. It’s Family Night this Friday. But thanks for asking.”
“You sure? Everyone’s going after the scrimmage”
“You mean like football?”
“Football is a joke at Beacon. The sport here is Lacrosse. We won the state championship the last three years--“
Cutting in Lydia praises, “Because of a certain team captain.”
“We have practice in a few minutes,” Jackson explains. “You don’t have to be anywhere, do you?”
“Well, no, I was just going--“
Lydia claps her hands in excitement, “Perfect! You’re coming.”
—————
A whistle blowing echoes across the field. The Lacrosse Team’s Coach gathers the team on the field, Stiles and Scott lagging behind.
“But if you play I’ll have no one to talk to on the bench! You really gonna’ do that to your best friend?”
“Hey! No fair.” I look toward Stiles pouting when he gives me an obnoxious look.
“You don’t count.” I shoved him sticking my tongue out and watched as Stiles accidentally collided with Scott.
“Oops sorry Scott,” I apologize.
With an amused smile after watching our banter Scott continued his argument. “I can’t sit out again. My whole life is sitting on the sidelines. This season, I make first line.” He heads for the field, pausing to see Lydia climbing the bleachers. And stepping right behind her... Allison.
I look towards the boy and follow his gaze behind me where I see the girls sitting. “Hey,” I nudged Stiles who was busy putting all his gear down around him in a destructive manner. “I think Scott’s got a crush on the new girl.”
“What? What makes you say that?”
“Look!” I point towards where Scott stands, still starring dreamily at Allison, but he’s suddenly interrupted when a lacrosse stick hits him in the chest.
“McCall! You’re in the goal.”
Scott turns to Coach Bobby Finstock, a man with little comprehension of the difficulties of teenage life. He tosses Scott the bundle of goalie equipment.
“But I’ve never played goal.”
“I know. Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing. Get them energized, fired up!”
“What about me?”
“Try not to take any in the face.”
This is not gonna end well, I think to myself.
—————
Stepping into the net, Scott glances to the bleachers where Allison watches with Lydia, eyes focusing on them.
“Who is that,” Allison questions.
Him? I’m not sure who he is. Why?”
“He’s in my English class.”
Scott looks up, shocked to hear Allison asking about him. But with his hearing momentarily turned up, he flinches at the whistle blow, sound ringing through his skull.
One of the bigger players charges forward as the Assistant Coach passes the ball to him. Catching it, he whips his stick forward, hurling the ball toward the goal.
Still reeling from the whistle, Scott looks up too late to see the ball soaring toward him. It bounces right off his helmet and into the net. The team laughs wickedly. Even Coach snickers.
Cheeks burning under his mask, Scott readies himself for the next player. When the whistle blows again, he’s ready. The Assistant Coach passes the ball to the next player who catches it and fires it right at the goal.
Scott moves startlingly fast, almost an instantaneous reaction. Then he notices the player staring at him with a mixture of disappointment and surprise. Scott has the ball.
“Yeah!” Stiles shouts from the sideline, impressed with his friends newfound luck. “See I told you he was practicing,” I brag to Stiles.
When the next player takes the shot, Scott catches the ball again. And then again. And again. Nothing can get past him.
In the bleachers, Allison and Lydia sit forward.
“He seems like he’s pretty good,” Allison continues to stare at Scott practicing on the field
“Very good.” Intrigued, Lydia keeps her gaze locked on Scott who now stands with a far more confident posture. Until he sees that Jackson is next in line. Glaring at Scott, he practically strangles the lacrosse stick with his gloves.
“Oh God...” Scott croaks with fear.
The Assistant Coach tosses the ball up. Jackson launches forward, catching the ball and spinning around to fire it at the goal. But Scott moves with supernatural precision. The ball lands right in the pocket of the goalie stick.
Stiles and I let out hollers of excitement, jumping up from the bench. In the bleachers, Lydia stands and cheers as well causing Jackson to throw a look at her. She returns his glare with a sly smile, a warning to step up his game.
Grinning, Scott gives the goalie stick a whirl, spinning it with a flick of his wrist and sending the ball soaring right into the pocket of the stunned Assistant Coach’s stick.
—————
In the woods, Scott retraces his steps from last night with Stiles and I following behind him.
“I don’t know what it was. It was like, I had all the time in the world to catch the ball.”
Walking towards a bank we came to a river we had to cross. I hope Scott knows where he’s going. After seeing nowhere to cross we trudged through the river soaking our feet in the water. If my shoes smell after this I’m gonna kill him.
Reaching the other side, Scott continued with his worries. “And that’s not the only weird thing. I mean I can hear stuff I shouldn’t be able to hear. And I can smell things.”
“Smell things? Like what,” Stiles questions.
“Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket.”
“I don’t have any...” Stiles pulls out a lint-covered piece of wrapped gum.
Looking up at Scott in shock, he just shrugged, continuing his walk into the woods. Double checking, I ask him, “so all this started with the bite?”
“What if it’s an infection? What if my body is flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something?”
“I’ve actually heard of this,” Stiles starts, “It’s a specific kind of infection.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I think it’s called... Lycanthropy.”
“Oh my god.” I roll my eyes at his accusation. He can’t be serious.
“No I’m serious! This is important!”
“What’s that? Is it bad? It sounds bad.”
“It is. But only once a month.”
“Once a month?”
“On the night of a full moon. Awroooo”
Scott looks at him. And then it clicks. Giving him a push, we continued walking.
“Stiles you’re such a dumbass sometimes,” I chide.
“Hey, he’s the one who heard a wolf howling.”
“There could be something seriously wrong with me!” Scott looks back at Stiles with a look of fear.
“I know! You’re a werewolf! Grrr!” He slashes his hands through the air in a claw motion and I take this opportunity to stick my leg out in front of him and watch as he trips.
As Stiles falls to the forrest floor Scott and I laugh at his stupidity. “Okay, obviously, I’m kidding. But if you see me in shop class melting down all the silver I can find it’s because Friday’s a full moon.”
We seemed to reach the destination because Scott started to look around the area.
“I swear this was it. I saw the body, the deer came running, I dropped my inhaler...”
“Maybe the killer moved the body.”
“If he did, I hope he left my inhaler. Those things are like eighty bucks.”
As the boys thought of different theories I looked towards the woods and saw someone walking towards us. Is that.. Derek Hale?
“Hello,” I greet, waving to the man.
Stiles looks up at me and then to the man and taps Scott on the arm, pulling him to his feet. Derek Hale. Nineteen and unquestionably handsome, he has a rougher look than the cleanly shaven Beacon Hills boys.
“What are you doing here?”
Both Scott and Stiles are too stunned to speak at first “This is private property.”
“Sorry, we didn’t know,” Stiles assures.
Derek stares at Scott, barely noticing Stiles or I.
Scott opens his mouth to speak to the man but then closes it, at a loss for words.
I take this as an opportunity explain. “We were just looking for something but we’ll leave. Sorry to bother you.”
As we’re turning to go, Derek tosses an object to Scott. His inhaler. When he looks up, Derek is already walking away.
Now finding his voice, Scott mutters, “Aight, come on. I’ve gotta get to work.”
“Dude, that was Derek Hale, “Stiles exclaims. “You remember, right? He’s only a few years older than us.”
“Remember what?”
“His family. They all burned to death in a fire like ten years ago.”
We used to have a class together in school. “I remember the cops pulling him out of class to tell him,” I tell the boys. “I wonder what he’s doing back.”
Scott eyes the inhaler in his hand, closing his fist over it. “Come on,” he says again.
