why would i assume the risk if i know i'm going to ace the quiz tomorrow?
[ 3.02 — 3.03 ]
It was early in the morning, well before school was meant to start. Willow was at Derek's loft, planning to drive herself and Isaac to school once they went through with their plan to try and get his memories back.
Evidently, the girl who had rescued him was missing, as were his memories of his own time missing. He had no clue where he was or who took him — though Derek was almost certain it was the alpha pack. He just needed the confirmation.
"You know, I'm starting not to like this idea. Sounds kinda dangerous," Isaac muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the huge window. "You know what? I definitely don't like this idea, and I definitely don't like him."
"You'll be fine," Derek told him, growing tired of Isaac's nervous pacing.
Derek was sitting in a chair, flipping through a book. And Willow was behind him, her arms draped over his chest as she rested her chin on his shoulder.
"Does it have to be him?" Isaac asked, coming to a stop at the table next to the chair.
"He knows how to do it. I don't," he stated. "Be more dangerous if I tried doing it myself."
"You know Scott doesn't trust him, right? You know, personally, I'd... well, I'd trust Scott," he muttered.
"Do you trust me?" Derek asked, giving him a pointed look.
Isaac hesitated but eventually answered. "Yeah. I still don't like him."
"Nobody likes him," he stated, rolling his eyes.
"I like him," Willow chimed in.
Then the door to the loft slid open, the metal scraping against the wall. Peter stood on the other side, a smirk on his lips that never seemed to leave.
"Boys. F.Y.I., yes, coming back from the dead has left my abilities somewhat impaired, but the hearing still works. So I hope you're comfortable saying whatever it is that you're feeling straight to my face," he said, walking into the room.
"We don't like you," Derek said flatly.
"I like you," Willow told him with a smile.
With Willow's input added, Derek forcefully shut his book and dropped it on the table. "Now shut up and help us," he ordered.
"Fair enough," Peter said, smiling as he brought out his claws.
Everyone moved around so that Isaac was sitting in the chair. Willow and Derek relocated to the couch, both a little nervous about what was about to happen. But they didn't voice it, not wanting to worry Isaac even more.
"Relax," Peter instructed Isaac. "I'll get more out of you if you're calm."
"How do you know how to do this, again?" he asked as Peter moved behind him.
"It's an ancient ritual used mostly by alphas since it's a skill that requires quite a bit of practice. One slip and you could paralyze someone. Or kill them," he explained, lining his claws up with his neck.
"You - you've had a lot of practice, though, right?"
"Well, I've never paralyzed anyone," he said, shrugging.
Both Willow and Derek grew concerned at his phrasing. And Isaac tensed up, beginning to turn his head. "Wait, does that mean that you—"
Peter didn't even give a warning, stabbing his claws into the back of Isaac's neck. He kept a tight hold on him with his other arm, trying to keep him from struggling. Derek jumped up, prepared to rip Peter off of him.
"Wait, I see them!" Peter told them, his eyes glazed over and head thrown back. It was a few more moments of Isaac's struggling and Peter letting out pained groans, the process clearly uncomfortable for them both.
And then Peter was yanking his claws back and stumbling away from Isaac, breathing heavily. Willow moved in front of Isaac, who was hunched over weakly. She cupped the sides of his face, making sure that he was alright.
"What'd you see?" Derek asked, looking to Peter once he saw Isaac breathing.
"It was confusing," Peter said, still panting heavily. "Um, im - images. Vague shapes."
"But you saw something."
"Isaac found them," he revealed, looking at the beta in surprise.
"Erica and Boyd?" Willow asked hopefully. This was the closest they had been in months.
"I barely saw them. I mean, glimpses," Peter said, shaking his head.
"But you did see them," Derek said, desperate to find them.
"And worse," Peter muttered, rubbing his hand.
Derek's face turned cold, realizing who he was talking about. "Deucalion"
"He was talking to them. Something about time running out," he said.
"What does it mean?" Isaac asked him.
"He's gonna kill them," Derek guessed.
"No, no, no, no, no, he didn't say that," Peter said, clearly troubled. "He did make them a promise that by the full moon that they'd both be dead."
"The next full moon?" Derek asked, leaning forward.
"Tomorrow night."
"Really? They just had to choose the day before my birthday," Willow muttered under her breath.
☽︎
It seemed that Willow and Isaac wouldn't be going to the school alone. Scott had requested Derek's presence there, saying that Allison and Lydia needed to show him something.
Evidently, the girl who saved Isaac had come by the school the day the birds attacked and was looking for Scott. She left when she found out he wasn't there, but she did leave some killer bruises on their wrists.
And though Willow didn't necessarily see a pattern, it was odd that the lines were identical on each of their wrists. Derek, however, wasn't impressed.
"I don't see anything," he said, shaking his head.
"Look again," Scott told him.
"How is a bruise gonna tell me where Boyd and Erica are?" Derek asked. He needed to be following Isaac's lead, not this one.
"It's the same on both sides. Exactly the same," he pointed out.
"It's nothing," he again said.
"Pareidolia. Seeing patterns that aren't there," Lydia said. The doubtful smile on her face told them that she didn't think the bruises were important either. "It's a subset of apophenia."
"They're trying to help," Scott argued, wanting Derek to give them a chance.
Derek looked at them in disbelief. "These two? This one, who used me to resurrect my psychotic Uncle. Thank you." Lydia smiled uncomfortably, knowing there was nothing she could say. "And this one, who shot about thirty arrows into me and my pack."
"Okay, all right, now, come on. No one died, all right?" Stiles said, trying to ease the angry tension rising between Allison and Derek. "Look, there may have been a little maiming, okay, a little mangling, but no death. That's what I call an important distinction."
"My mother died," Allison said quietly, glaring at Derek.
And he glared right back. "Your family's little honor code killed your mother. Not me. And let's not forget you leaving Willow for dead in that police station."
Allison hesitated, glancing at Willow who was looking at the floor. But then she clenched her jaw. "That girl was looking for Scott. I'm here to help him, not you," Allison told him.
"You wanna help?" he asked. "Find something real."
As Derek turned to leave, Willow and Scott both followed.
"Derek, give her a chance," Scott told him quietly. "Okay, they're on our side now."
"Well then maybe you should tell her what her mother was actually trying to do that night," Derek said, crossing his arms. He was growing tired of the glares and snappy attitude. And though he didn't say it out loud, he'd never give Allison a chance. Not after everything with Gerard and her treatment of Willow.
It just wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't get his trust, and she didn't deserve it either.
☽︎
Willow was frozen in her seat, not even glancing at Scott and Stiles as they filed out of the English classroom. Her face was pale as she read over the simple worksheet that Ms. Blake had graded and handed back.
It wasn't even difficult. The assignment was to fill in the empty spots with all the characters that had so far been introduced in Heart of Darkness. Then they filled in predictions of how they thought the book would end for them. It had been easy and Willow flew through it.
But the big, red, circled 98 in the top corner made her feel ill. There was also a note scribbled under it from Ms. Blake, at least explaining the reason she docked two points.
'Use regular ink in my class. No glitter.'
Willow quickly scrambled out of her desk and walked up to Ms. Blake, who was erasing the notes from the chalkboard.
"Ms. Blake?" she asked, getting her attention. The teacher set the eraser down and gave her all her attention. "A - about my grade on this assignment—"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Worthington, but I won't be changing it. That's your first warning, and I expect all future assignments to be written in regular ink," she told her.
"I understand," Willow said, nodding. "But it's just, well, I've never not made a perfect grade. Is - is there any way I could do some extra credit to make up those two points? Really, you don't understand how important school and my grades are to me, especially with English and Literature being some of my favorite subjects."
Ms. Blake seemed to think for a moment before giving in, nodding. "Tomorrow, the Freshmen and Sophomores are turning in first drafts of their essays for their chosen summer reading assignments. Based on your grades, you're plenty qualified to help revise them. I'll be here late tomorrow, so why don't you swing by and help?"
"Of course," Willow said, jumping at the chance to fix the grade. "What time would you like me here?"
"Let's say seven. That should give you time to knock out homework from other classes and eat dinner," Ms. Blake said. "Now, get to your next class."
"Thank you, Ms. Blake," Willow said before rushing out of the room.
Relief washed over her, glad that the teacher was giving her a chance to fix it. Though she wouldn't be able to be with the others while trying to find Erica and Boyd during the full moon, it would be alright. It's not like she was going to be much help.
Scott and Stiles had been waiting for Willow outside the classroom. But when they asked about the holdup, she was too embarrassed to admit the real reason that she stayed over, so she kept quiet.
"Okay, what would a pack of alphas want with Erica and Boyd?" Stiles asked, getting back on the topic of the missing betas.
"I'm not sure it's them they want," Scott said, frowning.
"Okay, what, like Derek? Like they're recruiting?" he asked.
"But Derek would never join their pack," Willow said, shaking her head. But she and Stiles saw that Scott was no longer walking beside them. He had stopped and was watching two people walk in the other direction.
The twins.
Willow never did tell the others about her interaction with the blind man who claimed to be the twins' parent. Or how he knew her name. But a horrible feeling told her she had already met a few members of the dreaded Alpha pack. And if that hunch was true, then Scott was likely smelling the two wolves passing.
"Hey, Scott. You coming?" Stiles asked, getting his attention once more.
Scott snapped out of it and they quickly made their way to Economics. Willow sat at her desk in front of Stiles and almost hesitated before pulling out her pens. She had nothing to worry about in this class. In fact, Coach Finstock usually gave her a bonus point or two if he was in a bad mood from grading and then came along her glittery page.
"The stock market is based on two principles. What are they?" Coach asked the class. The only two people to raise their hands were Willow and, surprisingly, Scott. "Yes, McCall, you can go to the bathroom. Worthington?"
"Um," she said, glancing at Scott. "I - I think Scott might know the answer, actually."
"Yeah right," he said, laughing.
"Uh, no, Coach, I know the answer," Scott confirmed.
Coach laughed once more only to stop once he saw the look on Scott's face. "Oh, you're serious."
"Yes. Risk and reward," Scott answered confidently.
"Wow!" Coach exclaimed. "Who are you? And what have you done to McCall? Don't answer that. I like you better. I like you better. Does anybody have a quarter? A quarter."
"Yep," Stiles said, digging in his pocket.
However, when he pulled the quarter out, something else flew out of his pocket. Willow turned to see an XXL-sized condom land on the floor. She bit her lip and held back a giggle as she looked at Stiles with pink cheeks. The rest of the class didn't hold back their laughs though.
"Stilinski, I think you, uh, you dropped this," Coach said, bending down to get the condom and return it to Stiles. "And congratulations."
Scott was looking at Stiles with wide eyes, who was still trying to overcome his embarrassment. But, well, at least the size wasn't embarrassing.
"Risk and reward," Coach continued his lecture. "Put the quarter in the mug, win the reward. Okay, watch Coach."
After placing a mug on the ground, Coach backed up and crouched down. He swiftly bounced the quarter off the ground and landed it in the cup, impressing the class as it went in. They all clapped as he retrieved the quarter.
"That's how you do it. Okay. Danny. Risk, reward?" Coach asked, stopping at his desk.
"What's the reward?" Danny asked.
"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow."
"Coach, it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it," he informed him.
"Danny, you know, I really expect more from you at this point. Really," he complained. Then Coach went to Scott, setting the quarter on top of his textbook. "McCall. Risk, reward. The risk: If you don't put that quarter in the mug, you have to take the pop — the - the quiz. And - and you have to write an essay. Risk, more work. Reward, no work at all. Or choose not to play."
Scott picked up the quarter, thinking it over. "But isn't this just chance?"
"No. You know your abilities, your coordination, your focus, past experience — all factors affecting the outcome. So what's it gonna be, McCall? More work, no work, or choose not to play?"
After a moment, Scott placed the quarter back down. "No play."
"Okay. Who's next? Who wants the quarter?" Coach asked, and Stiles raised his hand. "There ya go! There's a gamblin' man! Come on! Step up, step up. All right, Stilinski."
Stiles jumped up excitedly and stood in front of the cup. However, as he was lining up his shot, Sheriff Stilinski and a deputy stepped in the classroom.
"Stiles," Noah called to get his son's attention.
"Yeah, Coach, I got it," Stiles muttered, not registering who was talking to him.
"Stiles," his father said again, this time louder.
Stiles looked up at his father in surprise, not understanding why he was there. As they led Stiles from the class, Coach continued asking for volunteers. Willow watched Scott out of the corner of her eye, who was clearly listening in. And whatever he was hearing wasn't good.
After a streak of three students missing the cup, Danny finally landed the quarter in the cup, earning applause.
"Reward!" Coach exclaimed. "Okay, who's next? Greenberg, put your hand down. You don't have a chance," he said, grimacing. Then his eyes landed on Willow. "Worthington! Risk or reward?"
"Why would I assume the risk if I know I'm going to ace the quiz tomorrow?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
Coach grumbled under his breath for a moment, just wishing she'd play along. Then he perked up. "Okay, okay! Risk is the same, but the reward for you is five extra bonus points on the quiz. Now? Risk or reward?"
Willow bit her lip, and Coach knew he had her. She'd do just about anything for bonus points, and after what happened with English, she felt a bit desperate for academic validation.
As she got out of her desk, Coach cheered excitedly. He slapped the quarter in her hand and stood back to let her line up her shot. Willow opted to sit on her knees, careful to keep her pink and white plaid skirt from touching the dirty ground.
After a moment of thinking, she tossed the quarter a little closer to the cup. Then it bounced with a high arc and sailed straight into the mug. She grinned as the rest of the class clapped.
"Reward!" Coach shouted, while also giving Willow a hand up. "Who's next?"
As Willow returned to her seat, Stiles also came back into the room. He looked quite upset, but Willow didn't find out why until class ended.
Evidently, they had gone to a party the night before for a childhood friend of his, Heather. She was now missing, and Stiles was the last person to see her. He was very torn up about the news, just wanting her to be found. And because of that, he immediately began throwing accusations at the Alpha pack.
"So you think they kidnapped Heather to turn her?" Scott asked, sounding a bit skeptical. Willow couldn't help but feel the same. Why would they need a beta when they were all alphas?
"Derek says it's easier to turn teenagers," Stiles reminded them.
"But what would a pack of alphas need with a beta?" Willow asked, voicing her question. "Maybe it's just a regular, human disappearance."
"Will, Scott, I don't know. I don't care. All right? This girl..." Stiles sighed heavily. "Our moms were best friends before mine died, all right? We used to take frickin' bubble baths together when we were three. I gotta find her."
"We will find her," Willow said, squeezing his hand comfortingly.
"Then we need Isaac to remember," Scott muttered.
"How? Peter and Derek couldn't do it. You know any other werewolves with a better trick?" Stiles asked.
"Maybe not a werewolf," he said, getting an idea. "But someone who knows a lot about them."
☽︎
After school, Scott, Stiles, and Willow met Isaac and Derek and the animal clinic. Deaton claimed to have a way to potentially retrieve Isaac's missing memories. And as Willow watched them pour bag after bag of ice into a tub of freezing cold water, she was glad that she wasn't the one with the missing memories.
"Obviously, it's not going to be particularly... comfortable," Deaton stated, explaining the process to Isaac. "But if we can slow your heart rate down enough, you'll slip into a trance-like state."
"Like being hypnotized?" he asked.
"Exactly. You'll be half-transformed. It'll let us access your subconscious mind," he specified.
"How slow does his heart rate need to be?" Scott asked.
"Very slow," Deaton said. There was a look on his face that didn't sit well with Derek.
"Okay, well, how slow is very slow?" Derek asked him.
"Nearly dead," he admitted.
Isaac went pale at the admission. He also stuck his hand in the water only to immediately withdraw it, wincing from how cold it was. "It's safe, though, right?"
"Do you want me to answer honestly?" Deaton asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. No, not really," he muttered.
Then the sound of rubber snapping filled the room. They all turned to look at Stiles, whose hand and arm were covered in a long, white, rubber glove.
"What?" he asked, seeing their unimpressed looks.
"Stiles," Willow said, grimacing. "You know that's for reaching inside animals, right?"
The boy quickly removed the glove, a disgusted look on his face. Derek rolled his eyes before looking back at Isaac, getting back on track. "Look, if it feels too risky, you don't have to do this."
But after a moment, Isaac shook his head. After removing his shirt and taking a deep breath, he stepped into the tub, sitting down. Scott and Derek were both at his head and shoved Isaac under the water.
Naturally, he tried to escape. Stiles was holding his feet, and Willow was holding his knees down, trying to keep Isaac from flailing around. He roared furiously, his fangs bared as he came out of the water.
"Get him back under. Hold him!" Deaton ordered.
"We're trying!" Derek snapped, not appreciating the attitude.
After a moment though, Isaac finally quit fighting. His movements stilled and his head floated above the water, his eyes closed.
"Now, remember, only I talk to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out," Deaton whispered to them. Then he addressed only Isaac. "Isaac? Can you hear me?"
"Yes," Isaac replied quietly. "I can hear you."
"This is Dr. Deaton. I'd like to ask you a few questions. Is that all right?"
"Yes."
"I want to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd. I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible, like you're actually there again."
"I - I don't wanna do that," Isaac said, beginning to freak out a little. The others had to hold his limbs once more to keep him in the tub. The power had also started to flicker from the thunderstorm outside. "I don't - I don't wanna do that. I don't wanna do that."
"Isaac, it's all right. Just relax. They're just memories. You can't be hurt by a memory," Deaton said, keeping his voice calm.
"I don't wanna do that."
"It's all right."
"I don't wanna do that."
"Relax. Relax," he said. And finally, Isaac calmed down once more. "Good. Now let's go back to that night. To the place you found Erica and Boyd. Can you tell me what you see? Is there some kind of building? A house?"
"It's not... it's not a house," Isaac told them. "It's stone. I think marble."
"That's perfect. Can you give me any other descriptors?"
"It's dusty, so empty. Like an abandoned building."
Then the lights began to flicker more frequently. And whatever Isaac saw in his mind scared him. Once again, he began to move around.
"Isaac? Isaac?" Deaton called, trying to reach him again.
"Someone's here. Someone's here!" Isaac exclaimed, thrashing around. Water splashed all over them, but there was nothing they could do to stop it.
As the others pushed him down once more, Isaac blindly reached out and clamped a hand around Willow's arm. In his scared state, his claws dug into her skin, drawing blood.
"Isaac, relax," Deaton told him, glancing at the blood that was dripping into the water.
"No, no, no, they see me, they see me!"
Derek looked from Isaac to Willow in alarm, ready to put a stop to this. Willow silently shook her head, biting her lip to stop a pained whimper from escaping. They had to find Erica and Boyd.
"Just memories," Deaton reminded him. "You won't be hurt by your memories. Just relax. Relax. Good. Now tell us what you see. Tell us everything."
Isaac had stilled again, but this time, his eyes were open. They stared blankly up at the flickering ceiling light. As he spoke, his claws slowly retracted, but he never released Willow.
"I hear him. Boyd. He's talking about the full moon, about being out of control when the moon rises."
"Is he talking to Erica?" Deaton asked.
"I think so, I can't... I can't see her, I ca - I can't - I can't see either of them."
"Can you hear anything else?"
"They're worried. They're worried what they'll do during the moon. They're worried that they're gonna hurt each other."
"If they're locked in together on the full moon, they're gonna tear each other apart," Derek whispered to the others.
"Isaac, we need to find them right now," Deaton said, the urgency in his voice evident. "Can you see them?"
"No."
"Do you know what kind of room it is? Is there any kind of a marker? A number on a door? A sign?"
"They're here," Isaac suddenly said, growing scared. "They... They..."
"It's all right," Deaton told him.
"No."
"Just tell us—"
"They see me! They found me. They're here!"
"This isn't working," Derek said before speaking up. "Isaac, where are you?"
"I can't see them. It's too dark!"
"Just tell me where you are," Derek said.
"You are confusing him," Deaton said, trying to get him to stop.
"I can't see!"
"Isaac, where are you? Just tell me where you are," Derek shouted.
"His heart rate — he could go into shock," Deaton warned.
"Derek, let him go," Scott said.
But of course, Derek didn't listen. "Isaac, where are you? What did you see?"
In a haze of thrashing and screaming, Isaac finally came around, having no memory of the things he'd said in those final moments. He only recalled the end of the memory.
"A vault!" Isaac exclaimed, sitting up in the water, fully aware. "It's a bank vault! I saw it!" As he got out of the tub, Deaton put a towel around him. "I saw the name. It's, uh, B-beacon Hills First National Bank. It's, um, it's an abandoned bank, and they're keeping them locked inside, inside the vault."
Then Isaac looked at all their grim faces. He took in Willow's state, who was crying into Derek's chest, too upset to look at him.
"What?" Isaac asked, frowning. "Willow, why are you crying?"
"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it, do you?" Stiles asked him.
"No."
"You said when they captured you that they dragged you into a room and that there was a body in it."
"What body?" Isaac asked, looking from Stiles to Willow.
"Erica," he revealed. "You said it was Erica."
☽︎
"She's not dead," Derek stubbornly declared. He was sitting in front of Willow, carefully wrapping a bandage around her arm from Isaac's claws.
"Derek, he said, "there's a dead body. It's Erica." Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation," Stiles muttered.
"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. They didn't know any other werewolves, so it made no sense for the Alpha pack to think they cared.
"Someone else, obviously," Stiles muttered.
"And maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle. Okay, the one who saved you?" Scott guessed.
"No, she wasn't like us," Isaac denied. "And whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."
"What if that's how Erica died?" Stiles asked, trying to figure it out. "They, like, pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives. It's like werewolf Thunderdome."
"Then we get them out tonight," Derek said determinedly.
"Be smart about this, Derek," Deaton warned. "You can't just go storming in."
"If Isaac got in, then so can we."
"But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?" Deaton asked rhetorically.
"We need a plan," Scott declared.
"How are we gonna come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?" Derek asked.
"Uh, I think someone already did," Stiles said, looking at his phone. He had looked up the bank while they were all talking. "Beacon Hills First National closes its doors three months after vault robbery. Doesn't say here how it was robbed, but it probably won't take long to find out."
"How long?" Derek asked.
"It's the Internet, Derek," Stiles said flatly. He only earned an annoyed look from Derek. "Okay? Minutes."
"He's not the most technologically gifted," Willow mumbled, gently patting Derek's chest. "Be patient with him."
☽︎
School pretty much flew by the following day. All they could think about was the plan for the night. And thankfully, since Stiles' father actually made the bank arrest, Stiles managed to get his hands on the building plans and a clear explanation as to how it was broken into the first time around.
As Stiles, Scott, and Derek leaned over the building plans in Derek's loft, Willow sat below Peter on the spiral staircase that led to the second floor. It's not like either of them would be helping — and Willow would be leaving for her extra credit assignment soon.
"Okay. You see this?" Stiles asked them, pointing out spots that he had circled in red marker. "This is how they got in. It's a rooftop air conditioning vent. Leads down inside into the wall of the vault, which is here. Okay? One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft Now, that space is so small, it took him about twelve hours to drill into that wall, which is stone, by the way. Then throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom."
"Can we fit in there?" Scott asked skeptically.
"Yes, we can, but very, very barely," Stiles told him. "And they also patched the wall, obviously, so we're gonna need a drill of some kind. I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit—"
"Look, forget the drill," Derek told him.
Stiles looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Sorry?"
"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" he asked.
"What do you - what do you think you're gonna do, Derek? You gonna punch through the wall?" Stiles asked sarcastically.
"Yes, Stiles," he answered, a smug smile on his face. "I'm gonna punch through the wall."
"Okay, okay, big guy. Let's see it. Let's see that fist. Big, old fist. Make it, come on," Stiles said. Derek rolled his eyes before making a fist. "Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big, bad wolf. Yeah, look at that. Okay, see this? That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co—"
Derek didn't even rear his hand back to gain momentum. Instead, he delivered a forceful punch right to Stiles' hand. The boy cried out, grasping his throbbing hand and almost falling over.
"He could do it," Stiles groaned.
Willow got up and beckoned Stiles over. She cradled his red hand, but it didn't look broken. Stiles pouted as she gently kissed the top of his hand. "You were kind of asking for that to happen," she told him, shrugging as she went back to her seat with Peter.
"I'll get through the wall. Who's following me down?" Derek asked.
He glanced at Peter, who shook his head. "Don't look at me. I'm not up to fighting speed yet, and honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."
"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek asked, clearly upset.
"One of them is already dead."
"We don't know that," Derek and Willow said at the exact same time.
"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here?" Peter asked. "A pack of alphas. All of them, killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant Alpha. I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids. They're gonna be missed."
"Could someone kill him again, please?" Stiles asked under his breath.
"Derek, seriously? Not worth the risk," Peter told him. Willow couldn't help but think of the risk and reward lesson from Economics.
"What about you?" Derek asked, obviously talking to Scott.
But it was Stiles who replied. "Yeah, if you want me to come—"
"Not you!" Derek snapped in annoyance.
"Got it," Stiles mumbled.
"I don't know about Erica. But if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something. We have to try," Scott said.
"But?" Derek asked, seeing the look on his face.
"Who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd?"
☽︎
When Willow left the loft, she only told Peter and Stiles that she had an assignment to finish. They thought nothing of it, seeing no problem with her going home for the night, especially when all they were doing was waiting. Stiles would be texting her updates.
But Willow didn't go home. She went to the school.
Ms. Blake was already in her classroom when Willow arrived. She wasn't even halfway through the pile of papers to read, so it was clear that she really did need Willow's assistance grading.
Willow knocked on the door as she entered. "Ms. Blake?"
"Ah, Ms. Worthington," she said, putting down the paper she was reading. "I'm actually quite glad you're here. These need a lot more work than I thought they'd need. So, pull up a chair."
She did as instructed, sitting at the edge of Ms. Blake's desk, who handed her a stack of papers to begin with, as well as a red pen for making notes. But Willow couldn't even read the first sentence of Romeo Hernandez's paper before Ms. Blake spoke up.
"Look, I really don't want to come off as the hardass new teacher that students go to Coach Finstock to complain to," Ms. Blake told her. "So, I'd like to explain my reasoning for docking those points. It's not because I hate joy or you or any other vindictive reason like that."
"You wrote why you took the points," Willow said quietly. Really, she didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to do the extra credit grading and get it over with.
"Willow, you'll be going out into the real world soon. In fact, it's to my understanding that both you and Lydia Martin will have enough credits to graduate early this year if you so wish to, which puts you out there even earlier," she stated. "And I'm not sure if you've figured out a desired career path, but very few of them will think highly of glitter pens. The world outside of high school is different, stricter. And as an educator, I want all my students prepared for it."
"I understand," she said, glancing down at the desk. "And I don't hate you. I think you're doing very well and enjoy your class. But I'm just not used to losing points."
"Which is why I'm allowing you to make them up," Ms. Blake said with a small smile. Then she pulled something out of her drawer. "I also got you these."
Willow looked at the pack of pens that Ms. Blake placed on the desk. It was a set of rainbow-colored gel pens that didn't have glitter in them. They were even the same brand that Willow used.
"You can still turn in assignments in pink and green and purple. Just no glitter," Ms. Blake said, giving her a pointed look. "It's baby steps."
"Thank you, Ms. Blake," she said, taking the pens and placing them in her bag.
With that out of the way and most of the tension resolved, the two of them began grading papers. The time passed slowly and there wasn't much talking between them. Willow's phone was kept on the desk, though it was on silent. Stiles would only call if there was an emergency.
At one point, late in the night, Willow excused herself to use the restroom. And as she was gone, Jennifer glanced at her phone, the screen lighting up with an incoming text. It was from Stiles, and the message put quite a horrible plan in the teacher's head.
"Oh, Willow," Ms. Blake said as she returned to the room. There was an innocent smile on her face. "Would you mind going to the supply room for me? It's down in the boiler room and should be unlocked."
"Of course," she said, standing back up. She also grabbed her phone and stuck it in the pocket of her cardigan. "What all do you need?"
"Some more grading pens, a pack of paper clips, and a ream of copy paper. I'm thinking of scanning these and keeping them on file so that I can track their writing improvement," she explained.
"That's a smart idea to help them get better," Willow told her, thinking nothing of the request. "I'll be right back."
Willow's mood had improved significantly knowing that Ms. Blake didn't hate her and that she'd soon have her perfect grade back. There was even a little skip in her step as she made her way down to the boiler room and back to where the extra supplies were. And if all was going well with Derek and Scott, they could all be happy and reunited for her birthday party the following night.
Speaking of, after grabbing the pack of copy paper, Willow leaned against one of the shelves and pulled out her phone. And as she read the multiple messages from Stiles, her good mood was replaced with dread and fear.
Bad bad news. Vault walls been keeping out moonlight. Boyd and other girl gonna go crazy if the moonlight gets in with Scott and Derek
Bad ! Boyd and girl escaped and on rampage. Stay home!!
Found Erica's body
Other girl is Derek's younger sister, Cora! No clue how she's alive
Dead body at the pool. Lydia found it. They killed someone
Answer your messages!!
Argent helping track Boyd and Cora.
New plan. Going to lure Boyd and Cora to the school and trap them in the boiler room until sun comes up. A perfect plan. The school will be empty
Except the school wasn't empty. And neither was the boiler room.
Willow checked the time stamp to see that it came in ten minutes ago, and there was no telling how far from the school they were. So, she booked it through the supply room, trying to get out in time.
Then she heard a loud bang and froze.
"M - Ms. Blake?" Willow called, praying that it was just the teacher.
But Ms. Blake wouldn't have replied with a low, animalistic growl.
Upstairs, Scott was leaning against the door of the boiler room while Derek sat in the corner, tiredly leaning his head against the wall, happy that it was all over.
"Did that actually just work?" Scott asked. It was so rare that their plans worked.
"It worked," Derek said, a content smile on his face. "Maybe - maybe Cora can come to Willow's birthday party if she's not too tired."
"She'll be excited to meet your sister," Scott said, smiling too.
Then they suddenly heard a commotion in the hallway. A second later, Ms. Blake appeared at the top of the stairs with Isaac trying to pull her back.
"Let me go! What - what were those things?" Ms. Blake shouted, tugging her arm out of Isaac's hand. "They - they had fangs and - and their eyes—"
"Ms. Blake, it's fine!" Scott said. They'd certainly have a hard time explaining, but they needed her calm to do that. "They're locked in the boiler room. They can't hurt anyone in there."
"No, no!" she shouted, looking at the door. "There's a student in there!"
"What?" Scott asked, his eyes going wide.
"Willow Worthington is doing extra credit work. I sent her down there. She hasn't come back!" Ms. Blake said, willing tears to fall.
Derek had never moved so quickly, yanking the door open.
"Close the door behind me and keep it shut," he said, looking at Scott.
"You go in there alone, and you're either gonna kill them, or they kill you," Scott argued, wanting to help.
"That's why I'm going in alone," he said. "I won't let them hurt Willow."
Two sets of yellow eyes stared at Willow through the dimly lit basement. Slowly, they approached, and when the light hit them, Willow recognized one of them.
"B - Boyd," she stuttered, hoping that he'd somehow come to his senses. That was a hopeless wish, though.
The werewolves both came closer, but before they reached the supply room, Derek came out of nowhere, knocking them both back. Willow quickly shut the metal gate separating the boiler room from the supply room, though she knew it'd be useless in keeping them out if they overpowered Derek.
Willow cowered away in the back corner, shutting her eyes and covering her ears. It did nothing to hide the sounds of fierce roars and pained growls and tearing flesh. And it was unbearable because Willow could tell it was Derek in pain, not the two betas. And it was her fault that he was getting the life beat out of him.
The waiting was agony — though nothing compared to what Derek was going through. But eventually, the sun came up and the moon's hold over Boyd and Cora dropped. Exhaustion overtook them and they collapsed on the ground.
Isaac and Scott ran into the boiler room when they no longer heard the fighting sounds. They spotted Derek on his knees, head down as he struggled to catch his breath. He was covered in blood and deep scratches, though they were already healing. Boyd and Cora were lying in front of him, knocked out for the time being.
"I'll - I'll get Willow," Derek said weakly. "Get them out of here. And the teacher."
It took a moment for Derek to get to his feet and then he made his way to the supply room. He spotted Willow through the gate in the corner, her head in her knees as she cried. But as soon as the noise of the gate opening hit her ears, she looked up quickly, eyes wide.
Derek was quite a sight, covered in blood and scratches. But he still managed to have a gentle smile on his face as he came to her, offering her his hand to help her up.
Willow took it and as soon as her feet were firmly planted on the ground, she threw her arms around his neck to hug him. He gladly held her, nuzzling his face into the top of her head. Both were just glad that the other was still alive.
Derek rubbed her back gently as she continued to cry, softly whispering in her ear, "Happy Birthday."