i can't believe you brought the cat.
[ 1.06 ]
Willow walked alongside Scott, a single bag of groceries in her hand while Scott struggled to hold six. They had already gone to the third level of the parking garage only to discover that Scott's mother's car wasn't there.
"How do you lose a whole car?" Willow asked as they made their way to the fourth level.
"You're the freaking genius, Willow. Why don't you remember what level we were on?" Scott asked, raising an impatient eyebrow.
"I was texting Jackson. He's feeling a little sick," she said, shrugging. "Don't werewolves have super senses? Shouldn't you have, like, a perfect memory?"
"Tell that to my grades," he muttered. Then he sighed and pulled out the car keys and repeatedly hit the lock button as they listened for the beep of the car.
Willow couldn't hear anything, but Scott's keen hearing picked up on a sound, looking up. She sighed, knowing they were still on the wrong level.
"Get to walking, Lungs."
However, they only took about two steps before a bottle of milk toppled out of one of the shopping bags. They watched as it rolled across the ground and under a car.
"Oh, crap," Scott whispered. He sat down his grocery bags and moved to crawl under the car. But then the milk bottle rolled back out from under it, three slash marks right down the middle as it leaked onto the ground.
Then they heard a growl.
"Run!" Scott ordered, grabbing Willow's arm and bolting through the parking garage. She ran hot on his heels, but that still wasn't fast enough as he practically dragged her along. They reached the third level before hiding behind a car.
Scott held Willow tightly, holding his hand over her mouth to try and quiet her loud breathing. Of course, it did nothing to hide their location. Struck with a new idea, Scott got them moving again. This time, he jumped on top of cars, setting off their alarms. The loud noise covered up their frantic heartbeats and the sound of their retreating footsteps.
Once they got to the final level of the parking garage, they hid behind another car. Willow shut her eyes and hid her face in Scott's shoulder, hoping that the Alpha would give up on them, the loud alarms scaring him off on the off chance that witnesses would arrive to investigate.
If the plan did work, all progress went out the window when Scott's phone began to ring loudly.
"No. No, stop," he muttered, fumbling for his phone to try and silence it. Tears pricked at Willow's eyes, thinking that it had found them.
A nearby thud sounded and a moment later, a hand grabbed Scott and pulled him up and over the car. Willow screamed as Scott was slammed into the hood of the car. But as soon as she saw who had attacked, she silenced herself.
"You're dead," Derek said, standing over Scott.
"What - what the hell was that?" Scott asked angrily as he got off the car. Derek was clearly unaffected by his anger.
"Said I was gonna teach you. I didn't say when," he replied, shrugging. Derek started walking back up the parking garage toward his own car.
"You scared the crap out of me!" Scott shouted. "You terrified Willow!"
Derek did look a bit regretful as he glanced at Willow. But her tears never actually fell, so he considered that a good thing.
"She's fine," Derek said, continuing to walk.
"Okay, but I was fast, right?" Scott asked, hoping for some praise.
"Not fast enough."
"But - but the car alarm thing, that was smart, right?"
"Till your phone rang."
"Yeah, but that was - I mean — Would you just stop? Please?" Scott asked, getting more frustrated. "What happened the other night, Stiles' dad getting hurt, that was my fault. I should have been there to do something. I need you to teach me how to control this."
"Look, I am what I am because of birth. You were bitten. Teaching someone who was bitten takes time. I don't even know if I can teach you," Derek snapped.
"What do I have to do?" Scott asked helplessly.
"You have to get rid of distractions. You see this?" Derek asked, snatching Scott's phone. The home screen showed a missed call from Allison. "This is why I caught you. You want me to teach you? Get rid of her."
"What, just because of her family?"
Derek quickly turned and flung the phone into the concrete wall, startling Scott, who shouted in anger at it.
"You getting angry? That's your first lesson," Derek told him. "You want to learn how to control this, how to shift, you do it through anger, by tapping into a primal animal rage, and you can't do that with her around."
"I can get angry," Scott told him, though he didn't sound very convinced.
"Not angry enough. This is the only way that I can teach you. Now, can you stay away from her? At least until after the full moon?" Derek asked him.
"If that's what it takes."
"Do you want to live?" he asked, almost shouting. "Do you want to protect your friends? Protect Willow? Yes or no?"
"Yes," Scott told him. "If you can teach me, I can stay away from her."
Sure he could, Willow thought skeptically. She'd bet her entire family fortune on the chance that he wouldn't cancel his plans to meet Allison in the next hour.
"Let's go, Willow," Scott said, sighing tiredly.
"I can take her home," Derek said out of nowhere. Scott opened his mouth to protest, but the glare Derek sent him shut him up.
"It's fine," Willow said softly. She nodded to Scott and smiled comfortingly.
"Text me — damn it. Text my mom as soon as you're home safe," Scott said, scowling at his broken phone on the ground.
"Of course."
Once Scott was gone, Derek led Willow toward his car. He even carried her bag of groceries without her having to ask.
"Sorry for scaring you," Derek said once they were in the safety of his vehicle. "I didn't know you'd be with Scott."
"It - it's okay," Willow said, having calmed down. "We don't know that Scott will be alone if the Alpha comes for him. Stiles and I both need to be ready to run at a moment's notice when it happens."
"You are a fast runner," Derek admitted. "For a human."
"Then Scott is slow for a werewolf," she shot back, a small smile on her lips.
"He'll get faster. The more full moons he goes through, the stronger he'll get. The better at this he'll get."
"And you'll help him get better," she added softly. "Your methods may be a little too horror movie-esque for my taste, especially considering I've never watched a scary movie, but still. You know more than Stiles and Google."
Derek looked at her with wide eyes for a moment before looking back at the road. "You've never seen a scary movie?"
"Nope. And I never will," Willow said, no hesitancy to be found.
"Scream?"
"No."
"Halloween?"
"Absolutely not."
"Carrie?"
"I've listened to the Broadway musical recording."
"That doesn't count. The Shining?"
"No. And I haven't seen The Wolf Man either."
Derek caught the amused smile on her face as she made a werewolf joke and shook his head, fighting off his own smile. "I'm gonna have to tie you down and force you to watch a horror movie some time. Cause that's just unbelievable."
"Derek, in case you haven't noticed yet, not only am I easily frightened, but I cry at the drop of a hat. I don't need the help of a movie to add to my general day-to-day fear."
"At least you look nice when you cry. Lots of people look ugly,"
Was that him subtly calling her pretty? She wasn't sure.
"Scott's an ugly crier," Willow admitted. "Don't tell him I said that, though. Wouldn't want to hurt his feelings."
"You never seem to want to hurt people's feelings," Derek mused, thinking of how she had called out Scott and Stiles many times for being mean that night he was shot.
"It's not a crime to be kind."
"No, it's not," he said softly. Derek looked at her once more, and she felt like melting. Why did she feel like melting? "I hope this world doesn't cause you to lose that kindness."
It had certainly caused Derek to lose his.
There was a comfortable silence for the remainder of the drive. Though both kept stealing glances at the other, both going unnoticed, uncaught. As the car drove down the long driveway that led to the Worthington Estate, Derek whistled lowly.
"So, are you, like, a millionaire?"
Willow toyed with the ends of her blonde hair. "I mean, I wouldn't use technical terms. But I mean, the Worthington family is one of the original founding families of Beacon Hills, so it's expected to have amassed a large fortune. Plus, we're a long line of doctors and lawyers and entrepreneurs."
"So, you're a millionaire," Derek summarized, amused at her attempt to explain the ginormous house.
"I mean, I'm not. Dad is," she stressed. She also left out the part that really the M in millionaire needed to be replaced with a B. "And besides, I can do good things with the money. Such as buying things for my friends. Things like new phones because I know his mother that works endless shifts at the hospital to put food on the table can't afford to replace it."
Derek rubbed the back of his neck guiltily as Willow gave him a disapproving look. They both knew there were other ways to make Scott angry. "You're right. I shouldn't have done that."
"No," she agreed. Then she glanced at her house, knowing her father was inside. "I should probably go in. Wouldn't want him coming outside and seeing me in the car with someone who was once arrested for murder."
He scoffed as Willow smiled. "Scott and Stiles are idiots."
"Well, yes, but that's not brand-new information," she said. Then Willow opened the passenger side door and climbed out of the sleek car, Derek handing her the bag of groceries as she did. "Thanks for the ride, Derek."
"Any time."
☽︎
So far, Scott was doing a pathetic job at avoiding Allison. And it didn't help that they had half their classes together. At least she was too consumed with some family lineage project to question why he didn't sit with them at lunch. Allison spent the whole time with her nose in a book, reading the passages to Willow and Lydia — the latter of which who was ready to die from how boring it all sounded.
"The what of who?" Lydia asked, not really caring but also not recognizing the name.
"The Beast of Gevaudan," Allison told them. "Listen. A quadruped wolf-like monster, prowling the Auvergne and south Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bete killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that the King Louie the 15th sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it."
Willow's stomach grew uneasy as Allison went on. It sounded like werewolves, and if Allison was learning about werewolves, that was a very bad thing.
"Boring," Lydia mumbled.
Allison went on. "Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan."
"Still boring," Lydia said, rolling her eyes.
"Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hoofed predator, possibly a mesonychid."
"Slipping-into-a-coma-bored," she said, making Willow giggle.
"While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape-shift into a man-eating monster."
"Any of this have anything to do with your family?" Lydia asked skeptically.
"This," Allison insisted. "It is believed that la Bete was finally trapped and killed by a renowned hunter who claimed his wife and four children were the first to fall prey to the creature. His name was Argent."
Yup, Willow thought, Scott was doomed. Whether it was Allison's parents or her Aunt Kate who put her on the right track, it wouldn't be long at all before she found out.
"Your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?" Lydia asked.
"Not just a big wolf. Take a look at this picture. What does it look like to you?"
Lydia and Willow both looked at the image printed in the book. Both froze, seeing something almost identical to the Alpha that attacked them at the video store. Willow at least had the comfort of knowing what it was — or was it actually comforting to know? She still hadn't decided.
"Lydia? Willow?" Allison called, seeing their spooked expressions.
Lydia quickly snapped out of it while Willow looked down at the fries on her lunch tray. "It looks like a big wolf," Lydia stated. Then she grabbed her bags, ready to leave after seeing that photo. "See you in History."
Allison sighed and looked at Willow. "You get how interesting this is, right?"
"I do. I mean, my family certainly never killed a huge monster and saved a village before," Willow told her. "So, did your dad show you what to look for?"
"Um, no, Kate did," she explained. "Speaking of, do you want to have dinner at our house tonight? Just like my parents, you've somehow gotten her to adore you."
"That's because I'm adorable," Willow said with a smile. "But I'll have to pass. Scribbles got into some trash two weeks ago and had to get stitches. I'm taking him to the vet after school to get them removed."
"Need any company?" she offered.
"No thanks. But definitely keep me updated if you find any more interesting family stuff," she said. Really, she just wanted to know how close to finding out Allison would get.
"Will do," Allison said. Then she scanned the cafeteria until her eyes landed on her boyfriend. "I'm gonna go talk to Scott. I've barely seen him all day."
"Good luck with that," Willow whispered under her breath as Allison got up. Scott immediately left the cafeteria as fast as he could, leading Allison to chase after him.
Soon, Stiles was taking up the empty seat next to Willow. "Want to help with werewolf training?" he quickly offered.
"What exactly does werewolf training entail?" she asked skeptically.
Stiles smirked mischievously. "I've got some ideas."
☽︎
"For the record, I think this is a terrible idea," Willow chimed in.
She had followed Stiles and Scott out to the lacrosse field. As soon as Stiles had actually explained his plan, Willow opted to watch from the sidelines. She didn't want to pelt lacrosse balls at someone while their hands were duct-taped behind their back.
So as Stiles started pulling items out of his duffel bag, Willow took a seat on the bleachers, smoothing down her plaid skirt as she did so.
"Okay. Now, put this on," Stiles said, holding out a black device.
"That's one of the heart rate monitors we use for the track team," Willow said, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I borrowed it," Stiles told them.
"Stole it," Scott corrected.
"Temporarily misappropriated. Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day," Stiles explained, handing the heart monitor to him before pulling out a phone that didn't belong to him.
"Isn't that Coach's phone?" Scott asked.
"That, I stole," he said, making Willow shake her head.
"Why?" Scott asked, still not understanding what this was all about.
"All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right?" Stiles asked, already knowing the answer. "When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."
"Like the Incredible Hulk?" Scott asked.
"You're so smart, Stiles," Willow praised. He smiled bashfully at her.
"Kind of like the Incredible Hulk, yeah," Stiles agreed.
"No, I'm like the Incredible Hulk," Scott said, smiling as he thought of himself as a superhero.
"Would you shut up and put the monitor on?" he asked, ready to get started.
"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period," Scott mumbled. After putting on the heart monitor, Stiles secured Scott's hands behind his back.
"All right. You ready?" Stiles asked, his lacrosse stick in hand and an arsenal of balls to attack with. "Remember, don't get angry."
"Willow is right," Scott said, grimacing. "I'm starting to think this was a really bad idea."
In response, Stiles hurled a ball at him. Then another and another. With surprisingly good aim, Stiles hit him each time. Scott kept bending over in pain, failing to dodge them.
"What are those two idiots doing?" Jackson asked, walking up beside Willow on the bleachers.
"Um, Stiles is getting payback for something Scott did," Willow said. Technically, it wasn't a lie. Stiles was still annoyed that Scott had saved Allison from getting hit by a car instead of his father, who had to go to the hospital to get X-rays of his hip.
"Well, watching this is definitely improving my day," he said, a grin on his face as he watched Scott get assaulted.
"Oh, I'm sure you wish you were Stiles right now — Jackson!" Willow exclaimed, finally having turned her head to look at him. He looked horrible with dark, purple circles under his eyes and a pale complexion. "Are you alright? You said you were under the weather, but you look horrible."
Jackson didn't bother to swat her hand away as she felt his forehead, checking for a fever — there was one. "I'm fine, Will. And I don't look horrible. I always look hot."
"I'm serious," she said, worrying about him. "You should be resting. We can get an excuse from the nurse, and I can drive you home."
"Don't worry about it," Jackson told her gently. Then his eyes fell on Scott. "Worry about him."
Willow looked back to see that Scott was on the ground, breathing heavily. Then he ripped his hands free of the duct tape and dug his fingers into the earth.
"Stiles," Willow called, cautiously getting up and rushing over, leaving Jackson at the bleachers.
"Stay back, Willow," Stiles said, not wanting Scott to hurt her if he couldn't control it. "Scott?"
It took a minute, but slowly, Scott's heart rate went back down, and he calmed down a bit. Once they were sure he wasn't going to change, Stiles got closer.
"Scott, you started to change," he said, as if they didn't already figure that out.
"From anger. But it was more than that," Scott said, taking deep breaths. "It was like, the angrier I got, the stronger I felt."
"So, it is anger, then. Derek's right," Willow said, remembering the lecture from the night before.
"I can't be around Allison," Scott muttered.
"Just because she makes you happy?" Stiles asked.
"No," Scott said, sounding so defeated. "Because she makes me weak."
☽︎
Derek sat on the made-up bed in the wing of the hospital that his uncle resided in permanently. Peter Hale was sat in a wheelchair across from him, a blank, empty expression on his burned face.
"I need your help," Derek told him, praying that Peter could hear him. "If you can hear me, I need you to give me a sign. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Just - Just something to point me in the right direction, okay? Someone killed Laura. Your niece. Laura? Whoever he is, he's an Alpha now. But he's one without a pack. Which means he's not as strong. I can take him."
"I have to take him," Derek confessed, looking at his hands and frowning. "I won't let him hurt more people. Hurt her."
His thoughts fell to Willow, as they so often did as of late — he didn't know if that was a good thing or not, but he had an idea as to why he had been thinking of her so much.
"There's a girl involved. A human girl," Derek told Peter, not looking at him as he spoke. "It's my fault she knows about all this. But the Alpha, we think he knows her — whether it's a close friend or a stranger that passed her on the street though, we don't know. I barely know her and yet I can't let him hurt her."
Derek took a deep breath, Willow's cute skirts and blue eyes and smile coated in strawberry-scented lip gloss flashing through his mind. "I don't know what it is, but when I'm with her, it's like all this weight lifts off my chest. She makes me feel like who I was before all the tragedies. Before Laura, before the fire... Paige."
It felt almost wrong to admit it out loud. Derek felt guilty, knowing every ounce of his life should have been dedicated to finding the Alpha. He shouldn't have even had the time to get to know Willow — to let her creep her way into his mind.
"And she's so... human," Derek said, his voice so quiet. "So delicate and fragile and human. I have to protect her, but to do that, I have to find him first."
He sighed and looked at Peter once more, who hadn't moved, hadn't even blinked. "Look, if you know something, just give me a sign. Is it one of us? Did someone else make it out of the fire? Just give me anything. Blink. Raise a finger. Anything. Say something!" Derek had gotten more frustrated and raised from the bed, grabbing the armrests of Peter's wheelchair as he shouted.
Hearing the commotion, the nurse in charge of Peter, Jennifer, came in. "Let him go," she ordered. "You think after six years of this, yelling at him is going to get a response?"
"Got a better method?" Derek asked snidely.
"Patience. He'll respond if you give him the time," she told him.
Derek shook his head and stormed out. "I don't have any more time."
If only Derek knew just how clearly Peter could hear. How much he comprehended. And even without Derek saying the girl's name, Peter knew exactly who had his nephew so enamored. It would certainly make things more interesting.
☽︎
"Don't get too mad at Scott for being late," Willow told Dr. Deaton as he carefully removed the stitches in Scribbles' side. "Stiles did something stupid and got them both detention."
"Well, that's his loss for missing our best patient," Deaton said, gently rubbing Scribbles' nose as the last stitch was removed.
"Scribbles isn't his biggest fan as of late," Will muttered, thinking of how the cat hissed any time Scott or Derek were near. She didn't notice the curious glance Deaton shot her, wondering just what she knew.
"Alright, keep applying the ointment I prescribed twice a day," Deaton instructed. He also grabbed a treat to feed Scribbles. After eating it, he padded across the table and into Willow's arms. "The scar should heal just fine, and the fur will begin growing back shortly."
"Thank you, Dr. Deaton," she told him, smiling. "Let Scott know I said hi."
Then they both heard the bell of the door ring. A moment later, Scribbles let out a disgruntled hiss.
"That must be him," Willow said, rubbing between Scribbles' ears to calm him down.
"Scott, you're late again," Deaton called. Even though he knew it was because of detention, he still had to have a talk with him about it. "I hope this isn't getting to be a habit."
However, it wasn't Scott that entered the back room. It was Derek, and he didn't look happy.
"Can I help you?" Deaton asked.
Derek glanced at Willow for just a moment, and her being there only further proved his theory about the Veterinarian.
"Hope so. I want to know about the animal you found with the spiral on its side," Derek stated.
"Excuse me? What animal?" Deaton asked, frowning.
Derek unfolded the piece of paper that he had found on his windshield in the parking lot of the hospital. "Three months ago. The deer. You remember this?"
"Oh, yes. It's just a deer," Deaton said cautiously. "And I didn't find it. They called me because they wanted to know if I'd ever seen anything like it."
"What'd you tell them?"
Deaton glanced nervously at Willow, who was frowning at Derek. Where was he going with this? "I told them no."
Derek suddenly stepped forward, and Deaton stepped back. "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Deaton asked. He backed away once more, easing toward Willow, worried about her safety.
"The sound of your heartbeat rising," Derek said.
"Excuse me?"
"Derek," Willow said cautiously.
He only ignored her. "It's the sound of you lying!"
Derek surged forward and grabbed Deaton by the front of his shirt and dragged him on top of the operating table. Willow screamed and backed into the corner, holding Scribbles tightly as the cat growled at Derek.
"Derek, stop!" she shouted.
But her words did nothing to stop him as he knocked Deaton over the head before tying him up. Willow was shaking, terrified of this different side of Derek.
"Derek, let him go," Willow said, her eyes watering.
"He's the Alpha, Willow!" Derek shouted, glaring at her.
"W - what?" she asked in disbelief. Deaton couldn't hurt a fly. He was the nicest man she knew and had been treating Scribbles since he was a kitten. "No, no. He can't be—"
"You don't know anything, Willow," he said, his voice still raised. "Now stay out of this."
Deaton was half out of it, his focus going in and out from the large gash on his head. "Oh, God," he mumbled, realizing he had been tied up.
"Are you protecting someone?" Derek asked aggressively.
"All right. The key to the drug locker is in my pocket," Deaton told him weakly. "Just - just let Willow go. Don't hurt her."
"You're the one that wants to hurt her!" Derek said angrily. He grabbed Deaton and lifted him into the air, ignoring Willow's pleas, begging him to stop. "And I don't want drugs. I want to know why you're lying."
"I don't know what you're talking about. What are you doing to me? What do you want?" Deaton asked, panicking.
"I want to know who you are or who you're protecting," he snarled.
"What are you doing?" Scott asked, arriving suddenly to see Deaton tied up, Derek threatening him, and Willow crying in the corner.
"Scott, get out of here!" Deaton shouted. "Take Willow and run!"
Derek dropped Deaton and then punched him hard, knocking him unconscious.
"Stop! Stop!" Scott shouted, running over.
"Look, when he's conscious, he can keep himself from healing, but unconscious, he can't," Derek told him.
"Are you out of your mind?" Scott asked him. "What are you talking about?"
"You want to know what the spiral means, Scott? It's our sign for a vendetta, for revenge. It means he won't stop killing until he's satisfied," he explained.
"You think he's the Alpha?" he asked in disbelief.
"We're about to find out." Derek raised his claws to slash Deaton, but Scott caught his wrist in a tight hold. Willow and Derek looked to see he had fully shifted. Then a moment later, his fangs and claws and hair disappeared — he could control it.
"Hit him again, and then you'll see me get angry," Scott threatened.
Derek begrudgingly stood down, backing away from Deaton. Scott sighed and looked at Willow, spotting the tears in her eyes. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" Scott ignored how Derek scoffed at the idea of hurting her.
Willow shook her head and stayed in the corner. "No. He just came after Deaton."
"Can you clean his wound?" Scott asked, glancing at the doctor. "It doesn't need to get infected. I've gotta think of something."
After placing Scribbles on the counter, she went through Deaton's supplies, grabbing some gauze, a washcloth, and peroxide to clean the blood off him. She could feel Derek's eyes on her the whole time as she stood close to Deaton. Still convinced that he was the Alpha, he wanted to grab Willow and run her far away.
"Do you have a plan?" Derek asked Scott as Willow finished taking care of Deaton.
"Just give me an hour," Scott said, texting Stiles.
"Then what?"
"Meet me at the school. In the parking lot," he said. Then he glanced at Willow and grimaced. "Will, I'm gonna ask you to do something for me, alright?"
"Whatever you need," she said, wanting to help prove Deaton wasn't the Alpha.
"Stay with Derek. Make sure he doesn't hurt Deaton anymore," he instructed. Both werewolves heard her heart pick up, still shaken by how violent Derek had been. Scott turned to look at Derek. "If you touch her, I'll tell Allison's dad, and he'll kill you."
"I wouldn't hurt Willow," Derek said, glaring at Scott.
"And I don't believe you."
☽︎
"I can't believe you brought the cat," Derek grumbled.
"I'm not abandoning Scribbles," she said, scratching the cat to calm him down. He wasn't thrilled about being in the car with Derek — and vice versa.
It was quiet for a few more minutes, the only sounds in the car being the heater blowing and the rhythmic breathing of Deaton who was tied up in the backseat.
"You were scared of me," Derek said after a moment. His grip on the steering wheel tightened.
Willow took in a deep breath and stared out the window as the school got closer and closer. "Can we just not talk about it?" she asked in a quiet voice.
And so, they didn't talk. There was an uncomfortable silence until they reached the school. Derek quickly parked next to Stiles' jeep, where he and Scott were getting something out of the trunk.
"Where's my boss?" Scott asked as soon as Derek and Willow got out of the car.
"He's in the back," Derek said, nodding to his backseat where Deaton was still unconscious.
"Oh, well, he looks comfortable," Stiles said sarcastically. He then reached to scratch behind Scribbles' ear, who was in Willow's arms. "Hey, Scrib."
Then he and Scott started walking toward the school without an explanation. "Wait. Hey," Derek called, stopping them. "What are you doing?"
"You said I was linked with the Alpha. I'm gonna see if you're right," Scott told him, still not explaining. Then Willow was left alone with Derek once more — well, not alone. Scribbles was there, constantly glaring at Derek.
With a sigh, Willow leaned against the hood of Derek's car, and he joined her a moment later. She studied her perfectly white sneakers, preferring to look at them than at Derek as she spoke.
"I'm not scared of you," she said, her voice hardly above a whisper. Derek's head whipped around as he looked at her. "But I guess that I am scared of what you're capable of. The same way that I'm scared of what Scott's capable of."
Willow felt horrible as she admitted it. She hated admitting that a small part of her was scared of Scott, who she had known since they were little kids. But despite her fear, she wouldn't let it hold her back from being there for him. And she wouldn't let it hold her back from knowing Derek either.
"It's smart to be scared of us," Derek told her. "Fear might be the thing to keep you alive."
"What if Dr. Deaton's not the Alpha?"
"He has to be," Derek said, sounding so sure.
"But what if he isn't?" she asked. "You can't keep hurting innocent people until you finally land on the right one."
"You're the walking personification of a conscience, aren't you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'll bet you've never done anything wrong in your life."
"Not true," she said. "Um, one time, Jackson and I snuck into the school and put butter on the floor of Coach's office so he'd slip."
"Wow," Derek said, an amused smirk on his lips. "They should lock you up."
Willow scoffed playfully and nudged his shoulder. He nudged her back, his smirk turning into a real smile. At least she really wasn't scared of him all the time.
"I didn't even do the buttering," she admitted sheepishly. "I just held the flashlight and told him we shouldn't have been doing it because Coach could've gotten hurt."
"Sounds about right," he told her, chuckling. Then his gaze softened as he continued to look at her. "Willow, I really am sorry for frightening you. I don't want you to think—"
Derek was cut off by a weak, strangled noise sounding over the PA system. It sounded more like a dying cat than a werewolf, and Scribbles hissed in response. Derek sighed in annoyance while Willow giggled.
"You've gotta be kidding me."
"That's what werewolves sound like?" she asked. "You sound like that?"
"No," he said sharply. "That's not what werewolves sound like. That was just embarrassing."
Then another noise sounded. This one was a growl — a real one. It morphed into a howl so loud that the school practically shook on its foundations. On instinct, Willow grabbed Derek's sleeve, her eyes wide at the monstrous sound.
"Idiots," Derek muttered, growing angry.
"I - I'm sure he didn't mean for it to be that loud," Willow told him. She didn't want Derek to lash out at anyone again. "Especially judging that first attempt."
"Well, if the Alpha's not the vet, then he's sure as hell on his way here now. And every other damn creature of the night," he said, clenching his fist.
A moment later, Scott and Stiles came sauntering out of the school with proud grins on their faces.
"I'm gonna kill both of you!" Derek snapped, pushing off the hood of his car. "What the hell was that? What are you trying to do, attract the entire state to the school?"
"Sorry," Scott said, smiling sheepishly. "I didn't know it would be that loud."
"Yeah, it was loud. And it was awesome," Stiles said, singing the last word.
Derek, clearly not impressed, glared at him. "Shut up."
"Don't be such a sour wolf," Stiles said, rolling his eyes.
"What'd you do with him?" Scott suddenly asked.
"What?" Both Derek and Willow asked at the same time. Then they turned in sync to see that the doors were open, and Deaton was gone from the backseat.
"He didn't do anything," Willow said, defending Derek. "We—"
Willow's words turned into screams as claws suddenly shot through Derek's back and out his chest. The Alpha had appeared, lifting Derek into the air as blood spouted from his mouth.
Scott and Stiles acted quickly, both grabbing onto Willow and dragging her to the school, making sure she was in front of them. They didn't let her look back as the Alpha flung Derek's dead body against the brick wall. Once inside, they pulled the doors shut and ducked down, away from the windows.
"H - he's dead," Willow whispered, feeling a panic attack coming on. "Derek's dead. I can't — I can't breathe — I—"
"No, no, no," Stiles muttered, watching as Willow's eyes started to roll back. "Don't pass out. Don't pass out. Don't — she passed out. Wonderful timing Willow."
"What do we do?" Scott asked, looking from Willow's unconscious body to the suddenly very inconvenient cat on her stomach and then to the window where the Alpha was lurking outside.
Derek was dead, and so were they.