[1x09; Wolf's Bane]

Olivia hated car chases. She didn't like the Fast and Furious movies, she hated the Cars phase that every kid under ten seemed to be going through, and she couldn't stand those police shows where they covered lives chases. She didn't even know anything about cars, either—she hadn't gone through driver's ed yet and she had no idea how to change a tire.

But there she was, sitting in the back seat of Derek's Camaro as she, Stiles, and Scott were chased by Kate Argent in a freaking neon-green Kia Soul.

Honestly, she didn't know what Derek was thinking. For whatever reason, he had to go to the school and he decided that he wanted back-up just in case things went wrong. As it happened, things did go wrong—two ways, in fact.

Not only was Derek spotted in town and was now being chased by numerous police cruisers, but Kate Argent saw his car and decided that she wanted to take him down that very minute.

"Can you slow down?" Scott asked Stiles from the passenger seat as they sped through the back roads of Beacon Hills, Kate on their tail.

"I don't think you grasp the idea of a car chase, Scott," Stiles rolled his eyes and pressed harder on the gas pedal, speeding up. "If I go slower, she'll kill us."

"If you go faster, you'll kill us!" Scott argued as Stiles took a curve too fast causing all three of them to slide in their seats.

"Stop arguing!" Olivia demanded. She turned around to see how close Kate was but was surprised to see the hunter drive off. "She's gone."

Stiles furrowed his eyebrows. "Scott, check the police radio."

Scott nodded and turned up the volume of the little radio Stiles had given him.

"All units, suspect is on foot heading into the Iron Works," Sheriff Stilinski's voice came through the static-y speaker.

"Damn."

Stiles sharply turned the wheel, spinning them around to head in the direction they just came from. They were only a few miles away from the Iron Works—the factory district downtown—so it wouldn't take long to get to Derek.

Stiles drove faster, if that was possible, causing Olivia to suspect that he was enjoying his time with the Camaro.

As Stiles drove, Scott unbuckled his seatbelt and climbed into the back with Olivia so that Derek could get in easily without taking too much time. Stiles would be able to make a speedy getaway.

They pulled up into the Iron Works and when they saw explosions of light up ahead, they figured Derek would be there, too. Stiles drove over, spotting Derek, and squealed to a stop right beside him.

Scott reached forward and opened the passenger door. "Get in!"

As Derek dove into the car and shut the door, bullets started hitting the side. Olivia ducked her head, hoping they wouldn't break the window, and sighed in relief when Stiles accelerated sharply so they could get out of the line of fire.

Once they were a safe distance away with no one following them, Olivia leaned forward to glare at Derek. "I told you it wasn't a good idea."

Derek sent her a glare as Scott added, "Yeah, what part of laying low don't you understand?"

Derek rolled his eyes and slapped the dashboard, angry with the turn of events. He was so close to getting the alpha. So freaking close. "Damn it, I had him!"

"Who, the alpha?" Stiles asked, briefly looking at him.

"Yes!" Derek huffed. "He was right in front of me and the fuckin' police showed up."

"Woah, hey, they're just doing their jobs," Stiles defended his dad and the other people he knew around the police department.

"Yeah," the older werewolf snapped, giving Scott a glare. "thanks to someone who decided to make me the most-wanted fugitive in the entire state."

"Can we seriously get past that?" Scott asked, exasperated, as he leaned forward so his head was next to Olivia's and in between Stiles and Derek's seats. "I made a dumbass mistake. I get it."

"Well, you didn't even apologize," Olivia muttered bitterly.

"All right, not the time," Stiles gave both of them stern looks before addressing Derek, "How did you find him?"

Derek looked at Scott and Stiles and scoffed, shaking his head.

"Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?" Scott said pointedly.

"He's right, Derek," Olivia agreed with the teen wolf. "They have a right to know."

"Yeah, they—as in both of us," Stiles emphasized with a sharp nod. Derek scoffed again, causing him to sigh, "Or just him, whatever."

"Just spit it out," Olivia snapped.

"Look, the last time I talked to my sister, she was close to figuring something out," Derek informed them. "She found two things. First was a guy named Harris."

"Wait, our chemistry teacher?" Olivia spoke up, shocked. Laura had been searching for the stuck-up war veteran who hated kids—or people in general—with a passion? "Why him?"

Derek shook his head. "I don't know yet," he admitted.

"What's the second?" Scott asked.

Derek reached into his jacket and pulled out a slip of paper. "Some kind of symbol," he showed Olivia and Scott a drawing of a circle with what looked to be a wolf in the middle of it with a fleur-de-lis underneath it. Both of them recognized it and exchanged a horrified look that Derek caught. "What? You guys know what this is?"

Of course, they did—it was the exact design of the pendent Allison got for her birthday.

"I've seen it on a necklace," Scott sighed. "Allison's necklace."

Derek narrowed his eyes and tried to piece together what it meant that Laura was looking for Allison's necklace. "Get it. We need to see if there's anything weird about it."

"I'll try," Scott said, trying to figure out a way that he could get a closer look at Allison's necklace. She wouldn't even talk to him currently, how the hell was he going to get her necklace?

"Don't try. Get the necklace," Derek ordered before turning to Stiles. "Why are you driving my car?"

Stiles scoffed in disbelief. "Are you serious right now?"

"Der, Scott and I can't drive," Olivia pointed out, coming to Stiles' rescue. "Stiles was kind of our only choice. Now say thank you for saving my ass."

Derek grumbled but Olivia shot him a hard glare.

"Fine," he said quietly. "Thank you for saving my ass."

Scott and Stiles exchanged amused looks in the rearview mirror.

-

-

"This is gonna be impossible, you know," Scott declared as he and Stiles walked into school the next morning.

"Why don't you just ask her if you can borrow it?" Stiles suggested.

"How?"

"It's easy," Stiles shrugged. "You just say 'Hey, Allison, can I borrow your necklace to see if there's anything on it or in it that can lead me to an alpha werewolf that I need to kill in order to get back together with you?'"

Scott gave him an unamused look. "You're not helping."

"All right, why don't you just talk to her?"

"She won't talk to me," Scott reminded him. "What if she, like, only takes it off in the shower or something?"

"That's why you ease—" Stiles stopped in the middle of the hallway so he could face Scott head-on. "that's why you ease back into it, okay? Get back on her good side, remind her of the good times. And then you ask for the necklace."

Stiles pursed his lips when he saw the dazed look on Scott's face.

"You're thinking about her in the shower, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Scott gave him an apologetic look.

"All right, stay focused, okay?" Stiles shook his head. "By the way, have you apologized to Olivia yet? 'Cause I'm still sensing some tension..."

In the few days since the full moon, Olivia and Stiles had fully made up from the night at the school and were back to being almost-friends (Olivia denied that they were friends but Stiles thought she was just kidding herself—they were definitely full-blown friends now). However, things had been awkward between Scott and Olivia.

Scott felt so bad when the full moon ended and he realized all the horrible things he did during the day. He wanted to apologize but he hadn't figured out exactly what to say yet.

"No, I haven't, but I will after English class," Scott decided.

"All right, good," Stiles nodded in approval. "I've got that appointment with Miss Morrell, so I won't be there to help. Remember, get the necklace, get the alpha, get cured, get Allison. In that order, got it?"

Scott nodded. "Get the necklace."

-

Stiles and Scott didn't even make it until their English class before they encountered a problem. The problem's name was Jackson Whittemore and when he came up to Scott's locker and told him that he knew what he was, Scott knew he was screwed. Royally screwed, considering the fact that Jackson threatened to tell Allison about Scott being a werewolf if he wasn't able to turn into one too.

Scott went to Stiles with the news after their first period.

"How the hell did he find out?" Stiles exclaimed as they walked to Scott's locker.

Scott shrugged. "I have no idea."

"Did he say it out loud?" Stiles asked. "The word?"

Scott gave him a confused look. "What word?"

"Werewolf," Stiles said impatiently. "Did he say, 'I know you're a werewolf'?"

"No, but he implied it pretty fucking clearly," Scott's blood practically boiled at the thought of his jackass of a co-captain.

"Okay," Stiles tried to calm down. "maybe it's not as bad as it seems. I mean, he doesn't have any proof, right? And if he wanted to tell someone, who's gonna believe him anyway?"

"How about Allison's father?"

Stiles deflated at the mention of the hunter. "Okay," he admitted. "it's bad."

Scott nodded. "I need a cure right now."

"Does he know about Allison's father?"

"I don't know."

"Okay," Stiles sighed, tapping his fingers against his upper thigh. The sooner they found the alpha, the sooner Scott could get cured, right? "where's Derek?"

"Hiding like Olivia told him to," Scott informed him. "Why?"

"I have another idea," Stiles said, a plan forming in his mind. "It's gonna take a little time and finesse, though."

"We have that game tonight, it's quarterfinals," Scott reminded him. "And it's your first game."

"I know, I know," Stiles didn't exactly need the reminder about being first line—he was already freaking out about it. "Look, do you have a plan for Allison yet?"

"Yeah, English is next."

Stiles nodded and clapped him on the shoulder to show his support. "Get the necklace."

As Stiles walked away to head to the guidance counselor's office, Scott sighed, "Right, get the necklace."

-

-

The bell rang for the next class period and Olivia grabbed her English textbook and shut her locker, turning to face Allison. The taller brunette had stuck like glue to her all day—when they weren't in classes—to try to avoid not only Scott but Lydia.

Apparently, when Olivia rushed out of Coach's office on the day of the full moon, Lydia had waited around for Scott. According to Allison, who heard it from Jackson, Lydia and Scott had a full-blown make-out session. Unlike Olivia, who had confessed that Scott had kissed her, Lydia still hadn't told Allison.

Allison was understandably upset about all of it and, while Olivia made it clear she wasn't taking sides, she just wanted to stay away from the redhead and her ex-boyfriend for now. Olivia didn't say anything about it; she liked Allison and considered her a friend although she was one she didn't trust completely.

"You okay?" Olivia asked Allison as they started walking to their English class.

"Yeah, I guess," Allison frowned. "I'm just not ready to see Scott yet."

Olivia patted her shoulder comfortingly. "I'll keep him away from you, okay? Don't worry about him—just focus on Othello."

"Yeah, Shakespeare is just what I need," Allison muttered sarcastically, entering their classroom.

Their usual English teacher was out for the second week while he recovered from his heart surgery, so they had the other sophomore English teacher subbing for him. Olivia actually preferred Mrs. Everett and was jealous that Lydia had her permanently.

While Olivia went to ask Mrs. Everett a question about their upcoming report on Othello, Allison sat in her usual seat. With her question answered, Olivia made her way to the desk next to her friend, seeing Scott hovering around it.

"Sorry, Scott," she apologized, slipping into the seat before he could. "this one's taken."

Scott sighed and took the empty seat behind Olivia while Allison gave her a grateful look.

"Okay, class, let's settle down," Mrs. Everett ordered as the bell rang; Olivia opened her notebook to a fresh page, prepared to take notes, and opened up her textbook. "Let's get our books out."

"Allison," Scott whispered from behind her, trying to get Allison's attention.

"Hey," Allison gave him a tense look. "Class is beginning."

"I know," Scott acknowledged. "I'll shut up. I just—I have some stuff on my phone that I wanted to send to you. I thought you might like it."

Allison nodded slightly. "Okay."

As Allison turned to the front of the classroom, Olivia gave her a supportive look.

"All right," Mrs. Everett set down her marker and turned away from the board where she wrote down the names of the characters they were going to discuss. "I'd like to return to our discussion from the other day with a more in-depth analysis of Iago and the way in which he preyed upon Othello's jealousies—"

Mrs. Everett was interrupted when Allison stood up, her phone clenched tightly in her hand, and walked out of the room. Scott quickly followed after her.

Mrs. Everett gave them a judgmental look. "We seem to have some here today."

Olivia scoffed quietly and started taking notes.

You have no idea, she thought.

Scott eventually came back into class with no sign of Allison and, when the bell rang, Olivia approached him.

"You okay?" she asked him quietly.

"No," Scott frowned. "Listen, Olivia, I'm sorry about the other day. It was wrong and I'm really mad that I did that to you. If you never forgive me, I understand, but I really am sorry. And I'm also sorry about Derek, I was being stupid."

Olivia gave him a small smile, appreciating the fact that he was taking the time to apologize. Him forcing a kiss on her wasn't okay—not at all—but she ultimately understood that he wasn't really himself that day due to the full moon. As for making Derek a fugitive, if he apologized to Derek and her cousin forgave him, it wasn't her place to hold a grudge.

"I forgive you," she told him honestly. "You weren't yourself and despite the fact that you can be kind of selfish sometimes—" Scott winced at her bluntness. "—I know that you're not a bad guy."

"Thank you," Scott grinned at her.

"No problem," she said as they walked out of the empty classroom. "So, have you figured out how to get Allison's necklace?"

"No," Scott scoffed. "Stiles told me to get on her good side and remind her of the good times we had but it just made her upset."

Olivia figured that was what he sent Allison that made her storm out of the classroom.

"Why are you listening to Stiles?" Olivia furrowed her eyebrows. "Has he even had a girlfriend?"

"Have you had a boyfriend?" Scott countered.

"No, but I'm a girl, dumbass," Olivia rolled her eyes. "I could have told you that it was a bad idea. Listen, you can't just ask for it."

"I know, I know," Scott nodded, having come to that realization already. "So what do I do?"

"Just steal it," she shrugged.

"Really?"

Olivia nodded. "Yeah, you're not gonna get it any other way."

"Okay," Scott hummed before remembering that Stiles was asking about Derek earlier. "By the way, Stiles needs to talk to Derek or something. I think he has a plan to catch the alpha another way."

"All right, I'll message him," Olivia patted him on the back as a farewell so she could head to the cafeteria and meet up with Allison, Jackson, and Lydia. "See ya later."

"Bye."

-

-

"Did you get her to give you the necklace?" Stiles asked as he set his full tray down next to Scott at their usual lunch table.

Scott huffed, remembering his terrible execution of Stiles' terrible plan. "Not exactly."

"What happened?" Stiles grabbed his water bottle and opened it, looking at Scott expectantly.

"She told me not to talk to her at all," Scott answered, tearing up one of his chicken tenders.

Stiles bit into his own tender and spoke with his mouth full, "So she's not giving you the necklace?"

"She's not giving me the necklace."

"Okay, well, did you find anything else out?"

"Just that I know nothing about girls and that they're totally psychotic," Scott muttered bitterly.

"Okay," Stiles sighed, taking a sip of his water. "I came up with another plan just in case anything like this happened."

"What is it?"

"Just steal the fucking thing," Stiles said simply as he scooped up a forkful of mac-and-cheese.

"Yeah, that's what Olivia said," Scott grumbled. "Couldn't we at least try getting to Harris?"

Stiles shook his head. "My dad put him on a twenty-four-hour protective detail, okay? The necklace is all we have right now. Steal it, thank you."

Stiles focused on the cup of pudding his favorite lunch lady gave him and was only halfway through when Scott nudged him.

"Stiles, he's watching us."

Stiles followed Scott's gaze and saw Jackson a few tables over, sitting next to a chatting Allison and Olivia. He was looking at them, his lips pressed together in thought.

Stiles straightened up and tried to look casual while Scott flinched next to him. He saw the annoyed look on Scott's face and looked back at Jackson, seeing him smirk annoyingly.

"What's wrong?" he whispered to Scott.

"Jackson's talking to me," Scott told him quietly. "He knows I can hear him."

Stiles' eyes widened and he looked back at Jackson. Scott nudged him again.

"Look at me," the werewolf told his best friend. "Just talk to me. Act normal. Pretend that nothing's happening."

Stiles faced Scott and tried to come up with something to say. Usually he was a talkative guy and had no trouble finding something to say—whether it was random, annoying, funny, or even offensive—but now that he was under pressure, there was nothing floating through his mind.

"Say something!" Scott hissed. "Talk to me!"

"I can't think of anything!" Stiles waved his arms nervously. "My mind's a complete blank."

Scott narrowed his eyes at him. "Your mind's blank?" he asked in disbelief, having heard thousands of Stiles' rants before. "You can't think of anything to say?"

"Not under this kind of pressure," Stiles defended himself, wincing. He faced Jackson again and saw that he wasn't sitting next to Olivia anymore. "FYI, he's not even sitting with them anymore."

Scott looked over at Jackson's previous table. "Where the hell is he?"

Scott stiffened again and Stiles guessed that Jackson was talking to him from wherever he was hiding. Scott's eyebrows furrowed further and further and his eyes narrowed into slits as whatever Jackson said made him angry.

"Scott, come on, you can't let him do this," he muttered supportively. "You can't let him have this kind of power over you, okay?"

Scott didn't seem to hear him as he gripped his lunch tray. It started shaking in his grasp until Scott clenched it so tightly that it broke in half. The breaking of plastic made a loud noise, causing everyone in the cafeteria to look over at them.

"All right," Stiles sighed, grabbing Scott's backpack from the floor. "Let's get out of here."

-

-

"Here's the thing, UCLA is doing pretty well this season," Olivia tried to convince Jackson as they walked down the hallway together. "They played a clip of their last game on ESPN the other night and—"

One of Jackson's favorite things to talk about was sports and Olivia was his only friend that would talk about them with him. Danny, though he was on the lacrosse and cross country team, didn't care for many other sports, especially the ones aired on television. Although Olivia much preferred football over basketball, she kept up with the local college teams. It was one of the things that she and Jackson mainly bonded over.

Jackson seemed pretty happy today but for some reason, Olivia didn't think it was because March Madness was coming up.

"They're not as good as Duke, though," Jackson cut her off, bragging about his mom's alma mater.

"Well, Duke's not as good as Kentucky," Olivia stuck her tongue out at him and laughed when he nudged her in the side.

"Whatever."

"Jackson!" Lydia called as she marched up to them, looking furious; Olivia and Jackson came to a stop. "This little text isn't funny."

"No, I wasn't trying to be funny," Jackson said seriously. "I would have put a 'ha-ha' at the end of it. And see," he pointed to Lydia's phone. "there's no 'ha-ha'."

Olivia shifted awkwardly, wishing that she wasn't anywhere near this conversation. She never liked when Lydia and Jackson fought.

Lydia pursed her lips and began to read the text message Jackson sent her, "'Lydia, please give back my spare house key at your earliest convenience, as we are no longer dating.'"

Olivia gaped at Jackson, shocked at the message he sent her cousin. He was an absolute dick to break up with her over a text message. He was an absolute dick anyway, but that was a horrible way to break up with someone.

Especially someone Olivia loved.

"You didn't lose it did you?" Jackson asked callously.

"What the hell is this?" Lydia hissed at him.

"Well, Lydia, in preparation for some big changes, I've decided to drop some of the dead weight in my life," Jackson explained flatly. "And you're just about the deadest."

Lydia flinched slightly. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"Dumping, actually," Jackson corrected her. "I'm dumping you."

Jackson chuckled and went to walk away but Lydia grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket.

"Dumped by the co-captain of the lacrosse team," she fumed, trying to rub the fact that Jackson wasn't the sole captain anymore in his face. "I wonder how many minutes it'll take me to get over that."

Jackson smirked and shrugged, blowing her a kiss as he walked away.

"Seconds, actually," Lydia called after him. "Seconds!"

Lydia's face crumpled when Jackson was out of sight and Olivia immediately sprang into action. She grabbed her cousin's arm and gently led her into the nearest bathroom. As Lydia stayed strong, she checked to see if any of the stalls were occupied.

She knew how important image was to Lydia. No breakdowns in front of the kids at school were allowed.

When Olivia was satisfied that no one was in the room with them, she turned back to Lydia. "Okay, you can cry now."

Lydia promptly burst into tears, her chest heaving with hiccupped breaths as she slid down the wall to sit on the floor. Olivia locked the bathroom door and got some napkins from a stall so Lydia could wipe her eyes.

She crouched down next to Lydia, giving her a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Lyds."

Lydia shook her head and tried to stop crying. Like Olivia, she never cared to show weakness in front of anyone. Usually Olivia was her exception—much like Lydia was Olivia's exception—but for some reason, she felt like she needed to hide how heartbroken she really was.

"You don't have to hide," Olivia sat next to her, mentally cringing at the fact that she was sitting on a dirty bathroom floor—the things she did for her cousin. "It's me. I'm here for you."

"He's such an asshole," Lydia sniffled, grabbing the tissue from Olivia's hands to dap at her watery eyes. "As if he could do better than me."

"He is an asshole," Olivia agreed. "You deserve better."

"I don't want better," Lydia frowned. "I love him."

Olivia sighed and wrapped an arm around Lydia's shoulder. She knew more than anyone how dysfunctional Lydia and Jackson's relationship was. They had only started dating for their popularity status but somewhere along the way, they developed real feelings for each other. They had fought before but they always came back together.

She didn't know what was going on with Jackson because she knew that he really did care for Lydia. It blew her mind how much of a dick he was being—more than usual, anyway.

"I know, Lyds, I know," Olivia said soothingly. As Lydia stopped crying, she dug through her bag and pulled out her concealer. "Here, you're mascara ran. Fix yourself up and we can go home and order pizza."

Lydia smiled at Olivia and reached up, squeezing the hand that laid on her shoulder. "Thanks, Liv. I love you."

"I love you, too," Olivia giggled. "Now, come on. You look like a racoon."

-

-

Stiles strutted into his bedroom and threw his backpack onto his bed, glad to finally be home. He had a lot of work to do before the game later and it all started with trying to track down whoever sent Allison and Olivia those messages on the night of the attack at the school.

He sat down at his desk, ready to look up some hacking tutorials, when his dad called for him.

"Hey, Stiles!"

Stiles spun in his chair. "Yo, D—Derek?" he gasped, seeing Derek Hale standing in the corner by his closet.

Derek pressed a finger to his lips and pointed at his door. Stiles scrambled off his chair and to his bedroom door, shutting it halfway behind him as he leaned against the frame.

Noah gave him a confused look. "What'd you say?"

"What?" Stiles tried to act casual. "I said 'Yo, Dad!'"

Noah nodded, his eyebrows furrowing. "Uh, listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight," he promised. "I mean, it's your first game."

"My first game," Stiles repeated with a large smile. "Gosh, that's, uh, that's great. Awesome. Uh...good."

Noah nodded again, slowly smiling. "I'm very happy for you and I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, me too," Stiles chuckled awkwardly. "I'm happy and proud...of myself."

God, could I be anymore awkward?

"So, they're really gonna let you play, right?" Noah asked.

"Yeah, Dad," Stiles confirmed with a smile. "I'm first line. Can you believe that?"

Noah chuckled. "I'm very proud."

"Me too. Again...I'm—oh," Stiles said as he was pulled into a hug. He patted his dad's back, resting his head on his shoulder. "Huggie, huggie, huggie."

He could have slapped himself as he pulled away from the hug and smiled awkwardly at his dad. Noah gave him a weird look but decided not to ask. He figured it was probably just nerves from his first game in a few hours.

"See you there," Noah waved before walking down the hallway.

"Take it easy," Stiles called after him. He entered his room again and firmly shut the door. "I'm sorry—"

He was cut off as Derek pushed him against his door, the werewolf's hand gripping the collar of his t-shirt.

"If you say one word," Derek threatened, pointing menacingly at the spastic teen.

"Oh, what, you mean, like, 'Hey, Dad, Derek Hale's in my room. Bring your gun'?" Stiles snapped at him. Derek lowered his accusing finger. "Yeah, that's right. If I'm harboring your fugitive ass, it's my house, my rules, buddy."

He emphasized his statement by slapping Derek's shoulder. Derek glared down at the shoulder he hit and nodded, slowly letting go of Stiles' shirt. He straightened out Stiles' jacket, his glare never leaving his face.

Stiles laughed nervously and reached forward, copying the werewolf's actions and straightening the leather jacket Derek wore. Derek lunged toward him, acting as though he was going to attack, and Stiles flinched away.

"Fuck," he cursed breathlessly, collapsing in his desk chair. "What are you even doing here?"

"Ollie texted me, she said you wanted to see me for some plan," Derek explained flatly. Stiles smiled slightly, both at Derek's nickname for Olivia and the fact that she managed to get her cousin over here for him, even though he hadn't asked her. "So Scott didn't get the necklace?"

"No, he's still working on it," Stiles sighed. "but there's something else we can try."

Derek gave him a questioning look.

"The night we were trapped at the school, I sent a text to Olivia asking her to meet me there," he told Derek.

Derek shrugged. "So?"

"So, it wasn't me."

Derek's eyes narrowed as he thought about what Stiles was saying. "Well, can you find out who sent it?"

"I was going to, but it might be quicker if I get someone who already knows how," Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket and messaged Danny, asking him to meet up. He also took that time to inform Olivia what was going on and invited her to help him and Derek.

Danny, who thought that Stiles wanted to work on the chemistry lab they were assigned, agreed to come over. Soon after, Stiles got a text from Olivia, telling him she was on her way.

"So, what is the plan exactly?" Olivia asked fifteen minutes later as Stiles led her into his room. She gave Derek a quick side hug and then sat on Stiles' bed.

Stiles couldn't believe that Olivia Martin—the girl he's had a crush on for years and spent many nights fantasizing about in that very room—was sitting on his bed. It was like God had blessed him all of a sudden. He didn't know how he got his good karma, but he wasn't complaining.

"Uh, Danny's coming over to trace the text that I supposedly sent to you," Stiles told her. "You know, on the night we were trapped at the school?"

"Oh, that's a good idea," Olivia complimented him, surprised.

"I always have good ideas."

"No, you don't."

"Name one bad idea," Stiles dared her, raising an expectant eyebrow.

"Okay, um, weren't you the one who decided to go into the woods at night to search for my cousin's dead body?" Olivia asked rhetorically. "And wasn't that the night that Scott was bit—"

"Okay, I get it," Stiles cut her off. "Other than that, though..."

"Nope."

"Yes."

"No, Stiles."

"Yes, Olivia."

"You're out of your—"

"Can you guys shut up?" Derek spoke up, giving both of them an annoyed look. "Someone just pulled up."

Stiles went downstairs to greet Danny and came back up moments later. He quickly explained to Danny that they needed him to trace a text before they could do their homework. 

"You want me to do what?" Danny asked in disbelief.

"Trace a text," Stiles repeated himself.

"I came here to do lab work," Danny pointed out. "That's what lab partners do."

"And we will," Stiles assured him, becoming frustrated. "once you trace the text."

Danny crossed his arms over his chest. "And what makes you think I know how?"

"I—I looked up your arrest report, so..." Stiles admitted with a sheepish shrug.

"I was thirteen," Danny defended himself, looking over at Olivia; she just smiled at him. "They dropped the charges."

Stiles raised his hands; he wasn't judging. "Whatever."

"No," Danny stubbornly shook his head and pulled Stiles' extra chair over to his desk. "We're doing lab work."

Olivia sighed as Stiles groaned in frustration, turning toward his computer. "Oh, my God!"

As Stiles typed in his password for his Google Documents account, Danny looked over at Derek, who was sitting quietly next to Olivia, flipping through the pages of Stiles' English textbook.

"Who's he again?" Danny quietly asked Stiles, covertly pointing at him.

Olivia was grateful that Danny had never met Derek before.

"Uh," Stiles wracked his brain for a fake identity. "my cousin...Miguel."

Both Olivia and Derek raised their eyebrows at him.

Danny looked at Derek again and then turned back to Stiles. "Is that blood on his t-shirt?"

Stiles eyed Derek's gray shirt and was dismayed to find that, yes, there was blood on it.

"Yeah, yes, well..."

"He gets horrible nosebleeds," Olivia spoke up, seeing Stiles' struggle.

"Yep," Stiles nodded in agreement, turning toward Derek. "Hey, Miguel?"

Derek slowly looked up from the textbook, his eyes narrowed.

"I thought I told you that you could borrow one of my shirts," Stiles said pointedly, nodding to his dresser next to his bed.

Olivia had to bite her cheek to hold back her laughter as Derek snapped the textbook shut and threw it on the bed. He stomped over to Stiles' dresser and pulled out a drawer, messily rummaging through it.

"So, anyway," Stiles turned back to Danny, who was watching Derek take off his shirt. "I mean, we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably—"

Derek, who was holding a shirt in his hands, interrupted him. "Uh, Stiles?"

Stiles sighed and looked at him. "Yes?"

"This," Derek held up the black t-shirt. "no fit."

Stiles gave him an annoyed look. "Then try something else on."

Derek glared at him and went back to finding a shirt. Stiles apologized to Danny and went to beg him to trace the text when Olivia caught his attention. She subtly pointed to Danny and then to Derek before curling her hands into a heart.

Stiles looked at his teammate, seeing that he was staring at Derek's naked back.

"Oh," he drawled quietly as Derek pulled on an orange-and-blue striped shirt. "Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh?" he grinned at Danny. "What do you think, Danny?"

Danny gave him a confused look. "Huh?"

"The shirt," Stiles pointed at Derek.

Danny laughed nervously. "It's not really his color."

"I agree," Olivia spoke up, wrinkling her nose at the shirt as Derek glared at her. "Orange and blue aren't a good combination."

"But it's the colors of the Mets," Stiles argued.

Olivia raised her eyebrows at him. "Exactly," she turned back to Derek. "The shirt's a little small, Miguel."

Derek huffed and tore the shirt over his head. Stiles smirked at Danny.

"You swing for a different team but you still play ball, don't you, Danny boy?" he quipped lowly.

"You're a horrible person."

"I know, it keeps me awake at night," Stiles said casually. "Anyway, about that text..."

"Stiles!" Derek exclaimed, angrily waving a brown shirt around. "None of these fit."

Stiles gave Danny a hopeful look while Olivia held her breath.

Danny sighed. "I'll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text."

When Danny started typing into the computer, Stiles pumped his fist in celebration and gave Derek and Olivia a thumbs' up, as though they didn't hear Danny agree to help. Derek rolled his eyes and slipped on a dark-gray t-shirt he found minutes ago.

Olivia gave Danny the information he needed and within ten minutes, he had everything pulled up.

"There, the text was sent from a computer," Danny pointed at the screen. "This one."

Olivia and Derek, who were standing right behind Stiles and Danny, leaned forward to get a better look at the screen. In red text, the computer's display name read: Beacon Hills Hospital—Melissa McCall.

"Registered to that account name?" Olivia asked in shock.

There was no way Scott's own mother was the alpha who bit him, right? It just didn't make any sense.

"No, no, no," Stiles shook his head. "That can't be right."

-

-

After Danny went home, Olivia, Stiles, and Derek decided that they were going to the hospital. They all agreed that Melissa couldn't possibly be the alpha and that someone had probably used her account to make sure they weren't caught.

While Stiles drove them to the hospital, Scott sent Olivia a picture of Allison's necklace. After studying it, she showed it to Derek and Stiles. When Stiles parked outside the hospital, she called Scott to see if he had any more information.

"Hey, I'm with Stiles and Derek," she greeted him, putting the call on speaker so Stiles could hear.

"Hey," Scott said. "Did you get the picture?"

"Yeah, we did," Stiles was the one to answer him, leaning toward the phone so Scott could hear him clearly. "and it looks just like the drawing."

Derek grabbed Olivia's wrist, pulling it over to his face. "Hey, is there something on the back of it?" he questioned. "There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening...something."

"No, no, the thing's flat," Scott denied. "And no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing," he sighed and added, "Where are you? Stiles, you're supposed to be here. You're first line."

In the background, they could hear Coach call, "Where the hell is Bilinski?"

"Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start," Scott reminded Stiles.

Oliva frowned as Stiles sighed sadly. "I know," he nodded. "Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him I'll be there. I'll just be a little late, okay?"

"Okay."

"All right, thanks."

"Bye, Scott," Olivia said before hanging up the call.

"Bye."

As Olivia put her phone in her jacket, Derek pointed out the obvious, "You're not gonna make it."

Stiles glared at him. "I know."

"And you didn't tell him about his mom, either," Derek added.

"We agreed that Melissa wasn't the alpha," Olivia reminded him.

"Until we know the truth, I'm not telling him anything," Stiles declared.

"By the way, one more thing?"

Stiles looked over at Derek. "Yeah?"

Derek reached up and grabbed the back of Stiles' head, slamming it into the steering wheel. Stiles screeched as his forehead made contact and sent a painful pulse through his head.

"Derek, what the hell?!" Olivia shrieked, leaning forward in shock.

"What the fuck was that for?" Stiles moaned, pressing his palm against his forehead.

"You know what that was for," Derek said forcefully before pointing out the windshield. "Go! Go!"

Stiles hissed in pain, wincing dramatically, and opened his door, practically dragging his body out of the Jeep. Olivia rolled her eyes and cuffed the back of Derek's head as she crawled out behind him.

"Sorry about that," Olivia apologized as they walked into the hospital doors closest to the long-term wing. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fantastic," Stiles muttered sarcastically, rubbing his red forehead. "Am I bruising?"

Olivia peeked at his forehead and shook her head. "No. When you get home, put an ice pack on it."

"It won't scar?"

"Considering that the skin didn't break? No, it won't scar," Olivia rolled her eyes and laughed. "You're so dramatic."

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles waved her off and stopped in his tracks, looking around the empty hallway just off the long-term lobby. "Does it seem a little quiet to you?"

"Yeah," Olivia frowned, looking over at the receptionist's desk; Cheryl wasn't there like she usually was. "Call Derek."

Stiles obeyed, quickly calling Derek. When the werewolf picked up, he put the call on speaker and quickly explained that the hospital was practically empty.

"Yeah, I said no one's here," Stiles repeated himself after Derek said the call had broken up. He and Olivia walked into the lobby and carefully looked around.

"Olivia, ask for Jennifer," Derek suggested.

"Who's Jennifer?" Stiles asked, looking to Olivia for an answer.

"She's my dad's she-devil of a nurse," Olivia replied, rolling her eyes at the thought of the red-haired bitch.

She walked away from Stiles and made her way to her dad's room. The door was open and when she walked in, she was shocked to find that her dad's wheelchair was empty.

"Yeah, well, he's not here either," Stiles told Derek as Olivia looked into the open room with a shocked expression.

"What?"

"He's not here," Stiles repeated himself. "He's gone, Derek."

Olivia's mind raced, trying to come up with an explanation as to why her dad wasn't in his room. Was Jennifer giving him a bath or something?

Then she heard Derek's panicked voice over the speaker, "Stiles, Olivia, get the hell out of there right now! It's him, he's the alpha! Get out!"

Olivia slowly turned, as if on autopilot, and saw her dad standing to her right. Her thoughts were sluggish and panicked, as though she was drowning underwater and fighting to get to the surface.

Peter Hale looked the same as he had for the last six years since the fire that killed the rest of their family. The right side of his face was still disfigured, heavily scarred from the burns he received when he was escaping for his life. He was standing, though, and Olivia could see the life in his eyes for the first time since the fire.

She couldn't believe this. She just couldn't. Her dad—who she loved so dearly—was the murderous alpha. He had killed Laura. He killed the bus driver, the video store employee, the school janitor, and who knows who else. He had attacked her and Jackson at the video store and then again at the school with the rest of her friends. He had tried to kill Derek. He tried to have Scott kill her. He attacked her himself.

No, no, no, she thought, this can't be happening.

Peter smiled at her. "Hello, my darling."

And though she was glad he was healed, she didn't want it to be like this. Never like this.

Stiles grabbed Olivia's arm and pulled her away from Peter, backing them both up slowly.

Peter's smile turned hard. "You must be Stiles."

Stiles silently gulped; he certainly didn't picture meeting Olivia's father like this. He had pictured a more formal setting—like his hospital room—at a better time—like when he couldn't scare the shit out of him—with a cause of celebration—like announcing his and Olivia's engagement or something.

At least now I know why she and Lydia don't look alike, he thought to himself.

Olivia was all brown hair and blue eyes, just like Peter Hale.

Stiles came to his senses and tugged on Olivia's arm, turning away from Peter. He stopped when he came face-to-face with a middle-aged nurse with red hair.

"What are you two doing here?" she asked sternly. "Visiting hours are over."

Stiles gaped at her and looked back at Peter. "You and him? You're—you're the one who—" he stammered, flinching. "Oh, my—and he's—oh, my God, we're gonna die."

Olivia shook her head, the panic in Stiles' voice bringing her out of her daze. "We're not gonna die."

As if emphasizing Olivia's statement, Derek ran into the lobby and elbowed Jennifer in the face. The nurse fell to the ground, unconscious, with blood pouring out of her nose.

Peter clicked his tongue. "That's not nice," he scolded his nephew. "she's my nurse."

"She's the psychotic bitch helping you kill people," Derek spat before glancing at Olivia and Stiles. "Get out of the way."

"Oh, fuck," Stiles cursed, forcefully pulling Olivia out of the line of fire.

Olivia let herself be dragged behind the reception desk but she kept her eyes on her dad and Derek.

Peter slowly walked toward Derek. "You think I killed Laura on purpose?" he asked calmly. "One of my own family?"

Derek growled ferociously and lunged, jumping on the wall to get better height so he could slash at Peter's face. Peter grabbed him and pushed him against the opposite wall, crushing the drywall behind him, and slammed him on the floor.

Derek rolled onto his back and tried to get up, but Peter grabbed him by the throat, squeezing it slightly.

"My mind, my personality were literally burned out of me," Peter said flatly as he dragged Derek down the hallway, ignoring his attempts to escape. "I was being driven by pure instinct."

He dropped Derek next to Jennifer and bent down over her, pulling her keys from her pocket. Derek grunted and got to his feet.

"You want forgiveness?" he asked, slamming his fist into Peter's face.

Peter blocked another punch and grabbed the collar of Derek's jacket, head-butting him. Olivia winced, trying to think of what she could do.

"I want understanding," Peter replied, kicking Derek in the stomach.

Derek flew down the hallway, rolling onto his back and landing on his stomach.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years?" Peter asked as Derek spat out some blood onto the floor and tried to get up. "Slowly healing, cell by cell. Even more slowly coming back to consciousness?"

Stiles tugged on Olivia's hand, trying to pull her down behind the desk, but she shrugged him off.

"Yes," Peter continued, steadily making his way back to Derek. "becoming an alpha, taking that from Laura pushed me over a plateau in the healing process. I can't help that."

Derek jumped up and tried to punch him but Peter dodged his fists each time. He grabbed both of Derek's hands and forced them down, breaking the bones in his arms and making him groan in pain.

"I tried to tell you what was happening," Peter's voice raised as he looked over at Olivia. "I tried to warn you."

Olivia remembered what Derek had said about finding an article about a spiral carved into a deer's carcass on his windshield. And then she thought about how Scott had seen the alpha at Allison's house and he drew a spiral in the condensation on his window.

Peter picked Derek up and threw him toward Olivia; Derek fell into her, pushing both of them onto the ground. Stiles crawled toward them and helped Derek roll off of Olivia.

"Go," Derek whispered to Olivia. "Ollie, go."

Olivia adamantly shook her head, her vision blurring from her hard fall. "I'm not leaving you."

Derek looked to Stiles. "Get her out of here."

Stiles nodded and, as he pulled Olivia out from behind the desk to make their way out of the hospital, Derek crawled back to Peter to distract him long enough for them to get away.