your dad calls the police if he finds guys in your room?

[ 1.07 — 1.08 ]

"What the hell did you two dumbasses do to Willow? And what is Scribbles doing here?"

It was the first words out of Jackson's mouth when he and Lydia entered the lobby, spotting Allison with Stiles and Scott. Willow was unconscious in Scott's arms, and the small black cat they were all familiar with was curled up protectively on her chest.

As if an unconscious Willow, a cat that hates werewolves, a dead Derek, and being trapped in the school with the Alpha wasn't bad enough, Allison, Lydia, and Jackson had been lured to the school with a fake text message from someone pretending to be Scott.

"Can we just go now?" Lydia asked, already annoyed. Jackson had also taken Willow from Scott's arms, who begrudgingly let her go. For all Jackson knew, they had hurt her.

But then they heard a thudding sound from above. Something was crawling through the vents. Determined to not let them see the Alpha, Scott grabbed Allison's hand and shouted for them all to run.

They bolted up the stairs just before the Alpha crashed from the ceiling, it beginning to chase after them. They ran to the other side of the school before locking themselves in the cafeteria.

"Help me get this in front of the door," Scott told Jackson as he sat Willow on the floor. Together, they started moving a drink refrigerator and all the other heavy furniture, blocking the door.

"Scott, wait, not here," Stiles said, but no one heard him.

"What was that?" Allison asked. "Scott, what was that?"

"What came out of the ceiling? Did it hurt Willow?" Lydia asked, glancing at her friend. Willow's head swayed to the side, making her think she'd at least wake up soon.

"Will you just help me?" Scott asked, lifting a cooler full of water with Jackson to put in front of the door. "The chairs, stack the chairs."

"Guys, can we just wait a second? You guys, listen to me, w — Can we wait a second? Guys?" Stiles called. However, they all kept moving. "Stiles talking. Can we hang on one second, please? Hello!"

When he shouted, everyone finally paused and looked at him expectantly. His shouting had also stirred Willow, who was silently coming to her senses.

"Okay, nice work. Really beautiful job, everyone. Now, what should we do about the twenty-foot wall of windows?" Stiles asked, gesturing to the window.

"W - what — where are we?" Willow mumbled, slowly blinking her eyes open.

"Oh, thank god you're up," Stiles muttered, sighing in relief.

Lydia and Jackson both crouched down to her side, helping Willow sit up. "We're in the cafeteria," Lydia told her.

"When - when did you guys get here?" Willow asked, frowning at them. Slowly, it was all coming back to her. If they were still in the school, then the Alpha was still hunting them. "Oh my god, he's dead. We have to get out of here."

"Who is dead?" Allison asked. "Can somebody please explain to me what's going on, because I'm freaking out here? And I would like to know why. Scott?"

Everyone looked to Scott, but he was leaning against a desk, no answers to provide. Stiles sighed, knowing he needed to step up.

"Somebody killed the janitor," he told them.

"What?" Lydia asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, the janitor's dead," Stiles said again.

"What's he talking about?" Allison asked, looking to Scott. "Is this a joke?"

"What, who killed him?" Jackson asked.

"No, no, no, no. This was supposed to be over. The mountain lion killed—"

"No, don't you get it?" Jackson interrupted. "There wasn't a mountain lion."

"Who was it? What does he want? What's happening?" Allison asked. But Scott still had no idea what to do as she shouted questions at him. "Scott!"

"I - I don't know. I - I just - If - if we go out there, he's gonna kill us," Scott stuttered out.

"Us? He's gonna kill us?" Lydia asked, even more terrified.

"Who? Who is it?" Allison asked.

Scott's answer made Willow feel sick at her stomach. "It's Derek. It's Derek Hale."

"Derek killed the janitor?" Jackson asked, not quite believing it. But then again, Derek had attacked him in the hall and dug his claws in his neck.

"Are you sure?" Allison asked.

"I saw him," was all Scott said.

"The mountain li—"

"No, Derek killed them," Scott interrupted Lydia.

"All of them?" Allison asked.

"Yeah, starting with his own sister," Scott lied.

"The bus driver?"

"And the guy in the video store. It's been Derek the whole time. He tried to kill Willow," Scott told them.

Willow's eyes filled with tears as he accused Derek of murder, as he ruined his entire life. "Derek—"

"Tried to kill you," Scott said, giving her a pointed look. "You hit your head, and we barely got you away. He's in here with us. And if we don't get out now, he's going to kill us too."

No one noticed Willow shaking her head, only thinking about the fact that Derek could have been out in the hallway looking for them if he somehow survived the attack. All he wanted to do was stop these murders that Scott just accused him of again.

"Call the cops," Jackson instructed.

"No," Stiles immediately said. He couldn't get his father involved.

"Wh - what do you mean no?" Jackson asked angrily.

"I mean no. You wanna hear it in Spanish? No!" he snapped. "Look, Derek killed three people, okay? We don't know what he's armed with."

"Your dad is armed with an entire sheriff's department. Call him," Jackson ordered.

"I'm calling," Lydia declared.

"No, Lydia, would you just hold on a sec—" Stiles had stepped toward Lydia, but Jackson acted quickly, shoving him back and away from her.

"Yes, we're at Beacon Hills high school. We're trapped, and we need you to — But—" They all looked at Lydia with confused looks as she pulled the phone away, the call ending abruptly. "She hung up on me."

"The police hung up on you?" Willow asked in disbelief.

"She said they got a tip warning them that there are gonna be prank calls about a break-in at the high school. She said if I called again that they're gonna trace it and have me arrested," Lydia explained.

"Okay, then call again," Allison told her.

"No, they won't trace a cell and they'll send a car to your house before they send anyone here," Stiles told them. It wouldn't get a police car to them any quicker.

"What the - what is this? Why does Derek wanna kill us? Why is he killing anyone?" Allison questioned. She, Lydia, and Jackson all turned to Scott for answers. Willow did as well considering he had done nothing but lie since she woke up.

"Why's everyone looking at me?" Scott asked.

"Is he the one that sent her the text?" Lydia asked.

"No," he said before shaking his head. "I mean, I don't know."

"Is he the one that called the police?" Allison asked.

"I don't know!" Scott shouted, making Allison turn away, clearly upset that he had snapped at her.

"All right, why don't we ease back on the throttle here, yeah?" Stiles asked. He pulled Scott to the side, and Willow scurried after them. "Okay, first off, throwing Derek under the bus, nicely done."

"No, not nicely done!" Willow hissed quietly. "How could you do that?"

"I didn't know what to say," Scott told her. "I had to say something. And if he's dead then it doesn't matter, right? Except if he's not. Oh, god, I totally just bit her head off."

"And she'll totally get over it," Stiles told him. Of course, when locked in the school with a killer, he was still focused on Allison. "Bigger issues at hand here, like how do we get out alive?"

"But we are alive. It could've killed us already. Especially because carrying Willow slowed us down," Scott said, frowning. "It's like it's cornering us or something."

"So, what, he wants to eat us all at the same time?" Stiles asked, causing Scott to scoff.

"No! Derek said it wants revenge."

"Against who?" Willow asked. If they didn't know who the Alpha was, how could they know who had wronged him?

"Allison's family?" Scott guessed.

"Maybe that's what the text was about," Stiles realized. "Someone had to send it."

"Okay, assheads, new plan," Jackson interrupted. "Stiles calls his useless dad and tells him to send someone with a gun and decent aim. Are we good with that?"

Stiles didn't look like he wanted to, but Scott gave him a look. "He's right. Tell him the truth if you have to, just - just call him."

"I'm not watching my dad get eaten alive," Stiles whispered.

"All right, give me the phone," Jackson said. He walked up to Stiles to try and rip his phone away, and Stiles surprised them all by rearing back and punching Jackson.

"Jackson!" Allison exclaimed. She was at his side before his actual girlfriend or best friend could get there. "Are you okay? Hey, are you okay?"

"Stiles," Willow said softly, placing a hand on his arm. He sighed, seeing the tears in her eyes. "We - we can't just wait here all night to die."

"Fine," Stiles muttered, pulling out his phone. "Dad, hey, it's me. And it's your voice mail. Look, I need you to call me back now. Like, right now." Then the Alpha decided to throw its body against the door, trying to break it down. And judging by how it was shaking on its hinges, it wouldn't be long before it got in. "We're at the school. Dad, we're at the school!"

"What do we do?" Willow asked, grabbing onto Stiles' sleeve.

"The kitchen," Stiles said, looking around the cafeteria. "The door out of the kitchen leads to the stairwell."

"Which only goes up," Scott stated.

"Up is better than here!" Stiles told him. They all ran from the cafeteria, escaping through the kitchens just as the Alpha broke through the barricade they set up.

They fled through the kitchen and up the stairwell, not looking back as they ran through the school. When they finally found a new hiding spot, it was the Chemistry classroom. Scott shoved a chair under the door handle — as if that'd stop the Alpha.

None of them moved a muscle as they listened. Willow held Scribbles close to her chest and buried her nose in his fur as they waited. A low growl sounded, and a dark shadow passed by the window, moving right past their hiding spot.

"Jackson, how many people can fit in your car?" Scott asked frantically.

"Five, if someone squeezes on someone's lap," Jackson told him. "Willow can probably squeeze in between the driver's seat and passenger one."

"Five?" Allison said, scoffing. "I barely fit in the back."

"It doesn't matter. There's no getting out without drawing attention," Stiles stated.

"What about this?" Scott asked, walking over to an emergency exit. "This leads to the roof. We can go down the fire escape to the parking lot in, like, seconds."

"That's a deadbolt," Stiles pointed out. If the others hadn't been with them, Scott could have just used his werewolf strength to break it.

"The janitor has a key," Willow suggested.

"You mean his body has it," Stiles reminded her. She hadn't been awake to discover his horrifying body.

"I can get it," Scott said, lowering his voice. "I can find him by scent, by blood."

"Well, gee, that sounds like an incredibly terrible idea," Stiles muttered. "What else you got?"

"I'm getting the key," Scott declared so that they could all hear him.

"Are you serious?" Allison asked in disbelief.

"Well, it's the best plan. Someone has to get the key if we wanna get out of here."

"You can't go out there unarmed," she said.

In response, Scott grabbed the long stick that Mr. Harris used to point out things high on the board. They all looked at him, unimpressed with the make-do weapon.

"Well, it's better than nothing," he muttered.

"There's gotta be something else," Stiles said, sighing.

"There is," Lydia said, a small, excited smile crossing her face as she got an idea. They followed her gaze to the cabinet containing chemicals for lab experiments.

"What are we gonna do? Throw acid on him?" Stiles asked.

"That's better than nothing," Willow reminded him.

"No. Like a firebomb. In there is everything you need to make a self-igniting Molotov cocktail."

Stiles stared at her dumbly. "Self-igniting...?"

"Molotov cocktail," she repeated. Then she noticed that most everyone else was looking at her, confused about how she knew how to make one of those. Willow was the only one to really know how smart she was. "What? I read it somewhere."

"We don't have a key for that either," Stiles stated, finding a flaw with the plan.

Jackson rolled his eyes before ramming his elbow into the glass, shattering it. Then they got to work pulling out all the chemicals and setting them out for Lydia. She acted quickly, sure of her movements as she concocted the mix of chemicals.

"Jackson, hand me the sulfuric acid," she instructed. Jackson's hand hovered between two identical bottles before settling on one, handing it to Lydia. After adding it, she put a stopper in the beaker and handed it to Scott to take with him.

"No," Allison said, shaking her head. "No, this is insane, you can't do this. You cannot go out there."

"We can't just sit here waiting for Stiles' dad to check his messages," Scott said.

"You could die. Don't you get that? He's killed three people," she said, as if he needed reminding. But the Alpha had killed far more than three and would continue to do so.

"And we're next. Somebody has to do something," he told her.

"Scott, just stop," she said, grabbing his arm. "Do you remember - do you remember when you told me you knew whether or not I was lying? That I had a tell. Well, so do you. You're a horrible liar. And you've been lying all night. Just - just please - please don't go. Please don't leave us. Please."

Scott looked away from her fearful face and looked at the others. "Lock it behind me."

Before Scott could leave, Allison pulled him into a parting kiss goodbye. And as soon as he was gone, she looked at the door like he'd never come back.

As Willow sat on top of a lab table, Stiles came over to her. She instantly leaned her head on his chest and shut her eyes.

"How are you after passing out?" Stiles asked quietly. He didn't need the others hearing the truth instead of the fact that she wasn't knocked out by Derek.

"I'm just - I'm scared," she mumbled, silent tears running down her cheeks. "Do — Is Derek really dead?"

"Just be glad that we're not yet," was all Stiles said, which didn't comfort her much. "I also can't believe Scribbles is still with us."

"I'm not abandoning my cat with a bloodthirsty predator out there," Willow said, knocking her head back against his chest. "You think Scott will be okay?"

"If anyone has a chance, it's him," Stiles said.

Then Allison, Jackson, and Lydia migrated over to them. As Lydia pet Scribbles for some comfort, Allison joined Willow on the lab table.

"I don't get this," Allison whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't get why he's out there, and why he left us. And I can't - I can't stop my hands from shaking."

Jackson then grabbed her hands with his, holding them tightly. "It's okay. It's okay, it's gonna be okay."

Willow noticed how Lydia frowned at the contact. It rubbed them all the wrong way the same way that Allison being the one to hold Jackson after Stiles punched him had.

"Jackson," Lydia called, looking at the table of chemicals. "You handed me the sulfuric acid, right? It has to be sulfuric acid. It won't ignite if it's not."

"I gave you exactly what you asked for tonight," Jackson said in a cold tone.

"Yeah," she muttered. "Yeah, I'm sure you did."

After a few moments, Jackson suddenly collapsed, holding the back of his neck as he screamed in pain. Allison and Lydia each grabbed an arm to try and hold him up. However, he stubbornly pulled out of their holds. "No, I'm fine. Like, seriously, I'm okay."

"That didn't sound okay at all," Allison stated.

"What's on the back of your neck?" Stiles asked. When he moved to touch it, Jackson swatted his hand away.

"I said I'm fine," Jackson insisted.

"Jackson," Willow said softly, stepping closer. His glare softened as he looked at her. "Can I see it? I just want to make sure you're okay."

After a moment, Jackson sighed and nodded his head. He kept his back turned away from the others, only letting Willow inspect it. She frowned as she looked at the wound — it looked like claw marks. From a werewolf.

"It's been there for days," Lydia told them. "He won't tell me what happened."

"As if you actually care," Jackson muttered, clearly hurting Lydia's feelings.

"All right, can we not argue for half a second here?" Stiles asked. Being scared was bad enough. Fighting would only make it worse.

"Where's Scott?" Allison asked. "He should be back by now."

But none of them had an answer. Then a quiet, clicking sound hit their ears and a shadow passed by the door. Allison called Scott's name and went to open the door only to find out that it was locked.

"Where's he going?" Lydia asked as Scott's shadow disappeared, and Allison kept trying to open the door.

"Allison, it's locked," Willow said, trying to stop her frantic movements. "You're making too much noise."

"Stop. Stop! Do you hear that?" Lydia asked sharply.

They all held their breath, and after a moment, the faint sounds of police sirens hit their ears. The five of them rushed to one of the windows, looking outside as multiple police cars pulled up, parking next to Stiles' Jeep.

It was over.

☽︎

"You sure it was Derek Hale?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, with Scott, Stiles, and Willow following him out of the school. The parking lot was full of officers and EMTs to check on them all.

"Yes," Scott said.

"I saw him too," Stiles added.

Stilinski looked expectantly at Willow — also known as the worst liar of them all. "Willow?"

"I - I didn't see Derek kill anyone. I was unconscious," she stated. And that wasn't a lie, technically. Stilinski nodded in understanding.

"What about the janitor?" Scott asked. He hadn't seen them bring anyone in a body bag yet.

"We're still looking," was all he said.

"Did you check under the bleachers? Under them?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, Scott, we looked. We pulled them out just like you asked, there's nothing."

"I'm not making this up."

"I know, I believe you, I do," Stilinski said. But he had an uncertain expression on his face.

"No, you don't," Scott told him. "You have this look like you feel bad for me. Like you wanna believe me, but I know you don't."

Stilinski sighed. "Listen, we're gonna search this whole school. We're gonna find him. Okay? I promise." Then someone called for the Sheriff. "Stay. All three of you."

As his father left, Stiles sighed. "Well, we survived, dude — even Scribbles. You know? We outlasted the Alpha. It's still good, right? Being alive?"

Scott shook his head and frowned. "When we were in the chemistry room, he walked right by us. You don't think that it heard us? You don't think it knew exactly where we were?"

"Then why are we still alive?" Willow asked quietly. It felt just like it had after surviving the video store attack — like the Alpha had a secret agenda.

Scott looked at her sadly. "It wants me in its pack. But I think, first, I have to get rid of my old pack."

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked. "What old pack?"

"Allison. Jackson, Lydia," he listed. "Both of you."

"The Alpha doesn't wanna kill us," Stiles mumbled, realizing what Scott was hinting at.

"It wants me to do it. And that's not even the worst part."

"H - how is that not the worst part?" Willow asked, shaking her head. She felt sick at her stomach — what he said next wouldn't bring her comfort.

"Because when he made me shift, I wanted to do it. I wanted to kill you. All of you."

Scott's heart broke as he saw tears well in Willow's eyes once more. This time, it was because of him. It was because she was scared of him. Before he could think of something to say, he spotted someone across the parking lot, sitting in the back of an ambulance.

Scott led the way, Stiles and Willow following as they made their way to the ambulance. It was Deaton who was having his wounds treated by an EMT. And the veterinarian smiled as they approached.

"There you are," Deaton greeted. "Willow, I am so thankful he didn't hurt you."

"I - I'm sorry I couldn't keep him from hurting you," Willow said hesitantly. No, she didn't really believe that Deaton was the Alpha, but even she had to admit the timing of him escaping and the Alpha showing up was suspicious.

"How - How did you?"

"Get out?" Deaton finished for Scott. "Not easily. And from what they tell me, I'm alive because of you. I think I owe you a raise."

"Guys, come on, let's let the EMTs do their job," Stilinski said, pulling them away from the ambulance. "You can talk to him later."

The three of them left Deaton behind, and Scott spotted Allison standing on the other side of the parking lot. As he ran over to them, Stiles and Willow waited by one of the police cars.

"Here," Stiles said, pulling off his hoodie and putting it over Willow's shoulders, who hadn't really stopped shaking since she woke up.

"Thanks," she told him, smiling appreciatively. Then she leaned against his chest.

"Hey, Scrib," Stiles muttered, scratching the cat's head. It had been a long night, and Scribbles had done a lot of hissing and growling at werewolves. But most importantly, he had survived.

"Kind of looks like they're breaking up," Willow mumbled, glancing at Scott and Allison. Scott looked as if he was in pain, and she was having a hard time looking at him.

"Lasted longer than I thought it would," he said, shrugging. Willow nudged him as he chuckled.

"Hey," she said suddenly, looking around the parking lot. She leaned off Stiles, her chest feeling tight as she noticed a lack of something. Her eyes frantically searched the parking lot and grass where his body had been so harshly thrown. There was blood but not a body. "Derek. Derek's gone. His car too. Stiles, he got away."

Stiles looked at her skeptically. "Or the Alpha moved him just like he moved the janitor."

"Or - or he's alive," Willow said, shaking her head. Derek couldn't be dead. He couldn't be.

"Yeah," Stiles said, just going along to comfort her. "Maybe he's alive."

"Yeah," she said, her voice sounding so small.

"C'mon," Stiles said, nudging her shoulder with his. "Let's get Scrib home. It's been a big day — got his stitches out and fearlessly survived an Alpha attack."

Willow kissed the top of her cat's head. "The bravest boy."

☽︎

"Where are we going?" Scott grumbled.

Stiles and Willow had appeared in his driveway three days after the attack at the school. Classes had been canceled for Thursday and Friday but would resume on Monday. So it was Stiles' bright idea to spend Saturday night in the middle of the woods.

"You'll see," Stiles said, as they walked deeper into the preserve.

"Cause we really shouldn't be out here. My mom is in a constant state of freak out from what happened at the school," Scott said.

Willow silently agreed. She could count the number of times she had snuck out on one hand, this instance being the fifth. And it was only doable because her father had gone to bed early. Since the incident at the school, he was keeping her on a tight leash, understandably. It's not every day your only child is kidnapped from the vet and then trapped in a school with a murderer.

"Well, your mom isn't the sheriff, okay? There's no comparison, trust me," Stiles said. He couldn't count the lectures he'd received in the last few days.

"Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?" Scott asked.

"Yes. When your best friend gets dumped—"

"I didn't get dumped," he interrupted sharply. "We're taking a break."

"All right, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break, you get your best friend drunk," Stiles said, holding out a bottle of Jack Daniels that he had swiped from his house.

Willow, never one to drink, was there to drive them home at Stiles' request. He also figured a feminine perspective could help Scott to recover as well. Stiles was convinced that alcohol and Willow could fix anything.

Almost an hour had passed, and Stiles was all but gone, lying flat on his back as Scott sat on a small boulder. Willow was sitting near Stiles' shoulder, her hands stuffed into the pockets of Jackson's lacrosse hoodie that she had stolen to keep warm.

"Dude, you know, she's just one - one girl," Stiles said, slurring his words. "You know, there are so many - there are so many other girls in the sea."

"Fish in the sea," Scott corrected half-heartedly. He had been silently sulking the whole time.

"Fish? Why are you talking about fish?" Stiles asked, and Willow giggled. "I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. I love especially ones with strawberry blond hair, green eyes, 5'3"—"

"Like Lydia?" Scott asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, exactly," Stiles said, smiling as he shut his eyes. "Not just Lydia. Fish with—"

"Girls," Scott corrected.

"Yeah, those. Ones with blonde hair and five feet tall and short little skirts and really nice cheek kisses—"

"Stiles, you know Willow is still here, right?"

At Scott's question, Stiles opened his eyes and turned his head around. Willow leaned over him, a cute smile on her lips.

"Hi, Stiles," she greeted before leaning down and kissing his cheeks.

Stiles' skin turned pink as he grinned. "Hey, Wills! W - what was I talking about?" Then his eyes fell on Scott. "Hey, you're not happy. Take a drink."

"I don't want anymore," Scott mumbled.

"You're not drunk?" Stiles asked, adorably confused in his drunken state.

"I'm not anything."

"Hey, maybe it's like - maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, you know. Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf," Stiles guessed. "Am I drunk?"

"You're wasted," Willow told him. She then grabbed the bottle of alcohol that Stiles had been clutching, prepared to cut him off.

"Yeah! Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse. That didn't make any sense," Stiles rambled. He looked to Willow and then the bottle in her hand. "I need a drink."

"Nuh-uh," Willow denied, a grin on her face as she stood up. "You're way too — ah!"

Two men had suddenly appeared, the bigger of the two grabbing a hold of Willow's wrist with the bottle in hand. She tried to tug herself free as he took the bottle, but he held her so tightly she thought it would bruise.

"Well, look at the two little bitches getting their drink on," the man said in a mocking tone. "And they brought a little plaything."

"Give her back," Scott said, getting off the rock. Though he wasn't quite as tall as the man holding Willow, the werewolf knew he could take them. "And the bottle."

"What's that, little man?" he asked, chuckling.

"I think he wants a drink," his friend said, smirking.

"I want the bottle and the girl," Scott said in a low tone.

"Scott, just get Willow and leave," Stiles said, sobering up a little.

"You brought me here to get me drunk, Stiles. I'm not drunk yet. Give me the girl," Scott said, stepping closer to the guy. Willow had never seen Scott with such a dark look on his face. And then his eyes began to glow yellow. "And give me the bottle of Jack."

Willow was frozen until the man let go of her wrist. As soon as he did, she scrambled over to Stiles, trying not to trip as he wrapped an arm around her. Then Scott grabbed the bottle of alcohol and forcefully threw it against a tree, smashing it. The two men quickly left, not wanting to anger Scott even more, especially after the glowing eyes made an appearance.

"Scott, let's go," Willow said quietly.

As they headed back to the Jeep, Scott didn't seem to calm down at all.

"Okay, please tell me that was because of the breakup. Or 'cause tomorrow's the full moon," Stiles said. Then as Willow opened the passenger side door for him, he drunkenly toppled in. "Going home now, yeah?"

Scott shook his head at Stiles' state. Before he could climb in the backseat, Willow placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Scott, are you sure you're alright?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "For someone so smart, you sure ask dumb questions."

Willow stood there a moment, shocked by Scott's cruel attitude. She just hoped he would be back to normal come Monday — they didn't need him acting like that at school.

☽︎

Given that Warren had to be at the hospital early, he had asked for Allison's father to drive her to school. Both Willow and Allison thought it was ridiculous that their fathers were babying them so much. But there was no arguing with them, who were determined to keep them both safe.

So, Willow had ridden in the backseat with Allison, with Chris and Kate sitting in the front. The hunters were especially concerned about Willow — she had already survived two Alpha attacks, after all, so they thought she was living on borrowed time.

As the car stopped in front of the school, Allison was practically ready to jump out. However, the door was locked when she tugged on it. "Dad, if you're going to insist on driving us to school, you at least have to let us out of the car."

Chris looked around the parking lot, taking notice of the two police cars. There would be a handful of officers stationed around the school for the next few weeks, or until Derek was caught.

"Kate," Chris said, looking to his sister, "what's your opinion on homeschooling?" Willow giggled softly as Allison sighed in annoyance.

"Well, you know, I'm more of a learning-by-doing kind of girl," Kate stated.

"What's your opinion on overprotective dads who keep ruining their daughter's lives?" Allison asked. With a smirk, Kate leaned over and hit the unlock button on Chris' door. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kate said as Allison and Willow grabbed their bags. "Willow, Sweetie, you still coming over for dinner tomorrow?"

"Is Mrs. Argent making her mashed potatoes?" she asked, one foot out of the car.

Kate and Chris both chuckled at her question. "Oh, you know she is," Kate said.

"I'll be there," she said, beaming. "Thanks for the ride — Dad really appreciates it too."

"Have a safe day, girls," Chris said before they left completely. Parents were supposed to say have a good day, not a safe day.

School moved rather quickly, and almost everyone was talking about Derek Hale and the people he killed. Everyone also wanted to know what six students got trapped in the school on Wednesday, but that information was kept very quiet.

"It's just weird," Allison said as she, Willow, and Lydia left their history class. "Everybody's talking about what happened the other night, and nobody knows it was us."

"Thank you, for the protection of minors," Lydia mumbled.

Allison bit her lip, clearly upset about something. "Lydia, Willow, do you think I made the wrong decision?"

"About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely," Lydia said, eyeing her outfit.

"You know what I mean," she said, sighing.

"Hello? Scott locked us in a classroom and left us for dead. He's lucky we're not pressing charges," Lydia stated.

"What about you, Willow? You're really close with him," Allison said, looking to the blonde.

Willow bit her lip, not really knowing what to say. She couldn't blame Scott's behavior on his werewolf side. She couldn't tell Allison about the Alpha. She couldn't really tell her anything.

"I think that everyone was really high strung and scared that night, Scott included. He said and did things he didn't mean to or thought was the best," she said. "And I know he's really heartbroken, but maybe some space will be good for you guys. If it's meant to be, you'll find your way back to each other."

"Very wise for a girl who has never been kissed," Lydia said, smirking. "But she's right, Allison. Don't go back to him, at least not right away. He doesn't deserve you right now."

They all filed into the chemistry classroom, all thoughts on the test they were meant to be taking. Well, Willow's thoughts weren't on the test. She gazed at the broken cabinet that they had used to make the Molotov cocktail — which didn't work because Jackson hadn't given Lydia the sulfuric acid.

Scott had tried to talk to Allison, but Harris stopped him and told him to take his seat.

"You have forty-five minutes to complete the test. Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book. However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover, and I'll be left yet again questioning my decision to ever become a teacher. So, let's get the disappointment over with. Begin."

Willow smiled at Stiles when Mr. Harris went on about names. Mr. Harris never counted 'Stiles' as his real name, which was quite long and hard to spell and pronounce.

Willow sped through the multiple-choice test, knowing each answer right away. She had spent most of Sunday studying for it. She was over halfway done with it when Scott suddenly scrambled out of his chair and fled from the classroom, ignoring Mr. Harris who called after him. And then Stiles followed, both boys abandoning their tests.

While Willow was worried about Scott, she hoped that Stiles could handle the freakout, as she wasn't going to abandon her test.

Soon, school came to an end, and it was time for lacrosse and cheer practice out on the field. Scott wasn't with the guys as they came out of the locker room, and Stiles ran up to Willow at the bleachers.

"Hey, Sti—"

"It's Biles. Call me Biles Bilinski," Stiles ordered, earning a confused head tilt from Willow. "I made first freaking line!"

"Oh my god!" Willow exclaimed excitedly. She threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. "First line! I'm so proud of you. Your dad's gonna lose his mind."

"Not only that but Scott got appointed co-captain," he added.

"Woah," Willow said. On instinct, she looked to Jackson who looked rather grumpy. She knew he wouldn't take the news well. "Where's Scott?"

"He's talking to Lydia," he explained. "I asked him to see if he can sense desire for me from her."

"Sense desire?" she questioned. "What? Werewolves smell emotions?"

Stiles shrugged and adjusted the strap on his helmet. "That's what he made it sound like."

"Well, I've got to run back inside and get my megaphone — Coach borrowed it and left it in the locker room. But I'll see you after practice," she said. "Guess I can't call you Benchwarmer anymore."

"No, you can't," he said proudly.

Willow rushed back to the school, knowing there'd be no problem with her entering the boy's locker room since practice was already starting. She poked her head in and grabbed the big red megaphone that was sitting near the door.

Just before she left, she happened to glance at Coach's office and froze at what she saw. Two people were making out our passionately, pressed up against the wall with their hands roaming all over each other.

Scott and Lydia.

☽︎

Kissing Lydia wasn't Scott's only offense. At lacrosse practice, he had wolfed out and hit Danny before scoring a goal. He broke his nose and almost gave him a concussion if not for the helmet. And he didn't even feel bad about it.

Once practice was over, Scott was the last to leave the locker room. Knowing that he was in there, Willow let herself in.

"Scott," she called, walking over to his locker where he was throwing on a shirt. He simply grunted in greeting. "Scott, you're not yourself."

"Danny's fine," he said, rolling his eyes.

"I'm not just talking about Danny. You - you kissed Lydia, Scott. I saw it," she said, frowning. "Scott, you can't let the full moon get to you like this. I can't believe you'd do that to Stiles. To Allison. You can't go around hurting people and kissing the most popular girl in school."

"Lydia's not the most popular girl in school — you are," he said, setting his gaze on her. "Maybe I want to set my sights on someone higher than Lydia."

"E - excuse me?" she asked, slowly backing up into a locker. She didn't like how Scott was looking at her. Like she was some kind of prey.

"I can't have Allison. I can't have Lydia. Well, maybe I want you," Scott said, walking closer.

"Knock it off, Scott," Willow said, growing more uncomfortable. "Seriously, get away from me. I don't like this Scott."

"You will."

"Scott—"

Willow was cut off by Scott roughly pushing her against the lockers. Before she even registered what he was really doing, his lips were on hers, kissing her harshly. Tears pricked at her eyes as she tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her.

She blindly reached around until her fingers gripped a lacrosse stick leaning against the lockers. She quickly swung it, hitting Scott in the back of the head. He was stunned long enough for Willow to slip under his arm. Scott called her name, but she didn't look back as she fled the school, tears falling down her cheeks at what he had done to her.

☽︎

The only thing to knock some sense into Scott had been Derek — literally. He had beat the shit out of him, appearing out of thin air and keeping him from killing Allison and Jackson. All of Stiles' attempts, such as chaining him to a radiator and giving him a dog bowl of water, had done nothing to get through to him.

Derek had disappeared for five days, making them all think he was dead. But now he was back and fully healed — and also unaware of the fact that he was a fugitive.

He dragged a weak and tired Scott into his bedroom, dropping him on the bed before turning to leave.

"Wait," Scott called helplessly. "I can't do this. I can't be this and be with Allison. I need you to tell me the truth. Is there a cure?"

"For someone who was bitten? I've heard of one," Derek told him. In fact, he was almost sure it was a lie, but he needed Scott on his side. "I don't know if it's true."

"Well, what is it?"

"You have to kill the one that bit you."

"Kill the Alpha?" he asked in disbelief. He couldn't kill someone.

"Scott. If you help me find him, I'll help you kill him," Derek promised.

Scott nodded a bit hesitantly. Then he rubbed his forehead and groaned. "Oh god, shit. Can - Do you think I can leave the house?"

"Tonight? No. The moon is still out," Derek said, scoffing. "Do you not remember how you just tried to rip Allison and Jackson to pieces?"

"I - I know," he said, sighing. "But I've got to go see Willow. I've got to apologize. Oh god."

"What did you do?" Derek asked, beginning to worry. "Scott, what did you do to her? Is she hurt?"

"I could smell how scared she was," he continued, not actually telling Derek what he'd done. "And I just couldn't stop. She's never going to talk to me again."

"Scott!" Derek snapped, getting the boy's attention. "Did you hurt Willow? Did you attack her?"

"I, yeah," he said, shutting his eyes as he pictured her face. Felt her struggling in his arms to get away. "I attacked her, but she's not hurt—"

Scott cut himself off when he realized Derek wasn't even in the room anymore. As soon as Scott had admitted to attacking her, the older wolf was out the door, determined to check on her. Derek was likely picturing a kind of attack with claws and fangs, not with lips. 

The Worthington house, as always, was fairly silent. There was music coming from Willow's room, but it wasn't loud because Warren was already in bed. Willow was sitting on her bed, trying to finish her math homework. But every few minutes, her fingertips would travel to her lips, brushing against them as the kiss played over and over in her mind.

Stubborn tears that refused to stop welling in her eyes fell, and she harshly wiped them away. It was dumb, so dumb for her to be upset about what Scott had done. But now every time she thought about her first and only kiss, the memory would be plagued with the dark look on Scott's face and how it was forced on her.

"Why are you crying? Are you hurt?"

Willow looked up quickly at the sound of his voice. There Derek stood, alive and well, wrapped in a leather jacket. It's like her body moved without permission as Willow got off the bed and threw her arms around Derek.

He didn't seem to know what to do as she hugged him, her head placed against his chest. After a moment, he slowly hugged her back, gently rubbing her back — it had been a long time since he hugged someone.

"I thought you were dead," Willow said, looking up at him, still rather close to him even after the hug ended. "H - how are you alive?"

"Wounds from an Alpha take longer to heal," he explained. "Especially when they almost stab you through the heart. I only just finished healing this morning."

"I'm so glad you're alright," she told him, unable to stop smiling. But then she glanced at her door and frowned. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be out. I mean, if Dad saw you, he'd call the police."

"Your dad calls the police if he finds guys in your room?" Derek asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

Willow eyed him carefully, realizing that while he was healing in some dark hiding place, he hadn't been watching the news. "Derek," she started slowly, "Scott blamed everything that happened on you. All the murders. Trapping us in the school. You're wanted for murder."

She could see the anger flare inside of him, his previously soft expression turning hard. "I am going to kill him."

"Can't you just give him a stern talking to?" she asked. "Enough people have been getting hurt as of late."

"Why were you crying when I came in?" Derek asked, looking over her whole body, searching for an injury. "What did Scott do?"

Willow shook her head and forced a laugh. "It's stupid to cry over. Don't worry about it. It's not like he hurt me."

Now Derek was more confused — maybe he should've stayed with Scott for a few minutes and gotten an explanation. "But Scott said he could smell your fear. He said he attacked you."

"He - I mean, it wasn't a scary werewolf attack," she said, shaking her head. Then she sighed. "He just got a little aggressive and then kept backing me into the lockers and then he kissed me."

"He what?" Derek asked, his voice dropping an octave as he clenched his fist.

Willow looked down at her fingers, fiddling with the hem of her sweater. "I got him off of me and then ran off. I guess I was just crying because he didn't stop when I told him too and, well, it was my first kiss. Like I said, it's stupid to cry over it."

"It's not stupid," he said, shaking his head angrily. "Scott took something that's supposed to be special and sweet and memorable, and he ruined it. Not to mention it's assault!"

"Even so, it was just the full moon getting to him," she said, sighing. "It wouldn't be right to hold it against him."

"You're far too forgiving for your own good," he told her. "I'll make sure Scott regrets it."

"Please, no. Really, I just want to forget everything that's happened in the last five days," she mumbled. "Literally, everything — except for you being alive."

"You really were upset when you thought I was dead," Derek said, studying her with a soft look once more. "I didn't really think I had anyone left in my life to care if I was gone." It felt nice.

"Well, the problem with being friends with me, Derek Hale, is that you're stuck with me now," Willow said, smiling sweetly. "Not even vomiting black blood or insulting my cat will get me out of your hair."

As if summoned by mentioning him, Scribbles sauntered into the room. He spotted Derek and hissed before jumping into Willow's arms.

"I see it survived," Derek said, playfully rolling his eyes. He would've thought the cat would be the first one to go that night at the school.

"Scribbles lasted longer than you did," she said, smirking. Then she slowly moved closer to Derek. "Maybe if you'd spend time with him, he wouldn't hate you so much."

"All cats hate werewolves. It's not something they get over," he said, rolling his eyes.

"C'mon. Just pet him," she said, giving him a pleading look.

With a grimace, he slowly reached out a hand, knowing that Willow wasn't going to let up. Scribbles kept hissing at him the closer he got and tried to get out of Willow's hold. As Derek's fingers touched him, Scribbles tensed up. It was awkward, considering Derek had never touched a cat before. He wasn't really sure how to treat it.

"It's just like petting a dog, Derek," Willow said, giggling.

She used her hand not holding the cat and placed it over his. If only she had supernatural hearing, then she would've heard how Derek's heart sped up the smallest bit at the contact. He didn't know why it was speeding up though. Willow guided his hand behind Scribbles' ears to scratch it, knowing it was the cat's favorite spot.

"Look at that — you're petting a cat and not dying."

"For all you know, cat dander could be poisonous to werewolves," he said, giving her a pointed look. Of course, Willow simply giggled, knowing that wasn't true. "You could be killing me right now. Then you'd be the one wanted for murder."

"Biles is smart. He'd probably get me out of it," she joked.

"Who the hell is Biles?"