𝙳𝙾𝙻𝙻 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚂⠀⠀⠀⠀⁵
𝗩𝗢𝗟𝗨𝗠𝗘 𝗜. Cry Wolf

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄
▏𝗦𝟬𝟭𝗘𝟬𝟰︰𝗠𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗰 𝗕𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘁▕

❛ I HATE TO BREAK IT TO YOU, BUT DREAMS 

CAN BE A LITTLE...REVEALING SOMETIMES. ❜

"IN OTHER NEWS, LOCAL AUTHORITIES REMAIN PERPLEXED BY THE ANIMAL ATTACKS PLAGUING BEACON HILLS." Kate scoffed as she flipped through the channels, humming along to a random song playing on the music channel.

She bobbed her head to the music, facing away from the window beside her. Unbeknownst to her, a Werewolf scurried beside her vehicle due to her facing forward.

Kate felt the hairs on her neck stand up and turned to look out the window, but saw nothing there.

Her eyes scanned the road, then swiveled back and forth to get a better view of her surroundings.

After a moment, she peered into the rearview mirror, but there were no cars or people in her vicinity.

Nervously, Kate glanced back to double-check, then returned her focus to the road just in time to notice she was about to run a stop sign.

A truck turning onto the perpendicular street squealed its tires as the driver hit the brakes and honked loudly. Kate slammed on her own brakes, screeching to a halt.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes briefly to recover from the shock, and ultimately opened them. She muttered under her breath, thumping the back of her head against the headrest of her seat. "Nice driving, Kate. Nice."

She took one more breath before hearing a thud on the roof of her car.

Kate reached gently for the shotgun in her backseat before an animalistic hand smashed the window next to her and tried to grab her.

"No! No! No!" She finally grabbed her shotgun and aimed at the roof, firing.

The Werewolf growled before releasing Kate, allowing her to unbuckle her seatbelt and dive out of the car through the passenger door, rolling on the ground outside.

Kneeling outside the SUV, she aimed her gun at the roof, but when she noticed the werewolf had moved, she glanced around, trying to locate it.

"Come on!" she growled as she rose to her feet, attempting to entice the animal closer.

When this failed to provoke the Werewolf, she fired off a warning shot before repeating herself more forcefully, "Come on!"

Kate cocked the gun again, allowing the empty shell to fall to the ground with a clinking noise as her eyes darted around, trying to find where the Werewolf was hiding.

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips when she heard a growl in the distance.

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"IT WASN'T A SEX DREAM," Brietta repeated as Allison and Lydia shared a glance that said they weren't buying what she was saying. "It wasn't!"

Allison cleared her throat to speak as Lydia shrugged, "So if it wasn't a sex dream—."

"It wasn't," Brietta repeated as she paced around the courtyard behind their school. Allison and Lydia exchanged another glance at the round outdoor table. Allison continued, "Then what was it?"

"Because it sounds a whole lot like a sex dream," Lydia interjected, prompting Allison to nudge the redhead as Brietta snapped her head towards Lydia.

Brietta shrugged before sitting down between Allison and Lydia, "It was like...a dream," Brietta started, not noticing that Lydia gave Allison a pointed look, "A dream where my best friends may have been touching me in a place they don't touch me in real life," She finished, catching Lydia shaking her head with a grumble and a small smile.

Brietta stammers to get another sentence out, "Okay, it sounds like a sex dream, but it wasn't. In the dream, Stiles and Scott don't actually touch me in my nether regions, just my...well, rear end."

Allison cringed at Brietta's choice of words as Lydia scoffed out a laugh under her breath, "So, it was a sex dream?" Allison and Lydia exchanged glances, clearly trying to contain their amusement.

Allison leaned in closer to Brietta and spoke in a teasing tone, "Brie, I hate to break it to you, but dreams can be a little...revealing sometimes."

Lydia chimed in, still grinning, "Yeah, and the fact that you dreamt about Stiles and Scott touching your 'rear end' definitely falls into that category." Lydia snickered as she put air quotes around rear end.

Brietta flushed and tried to defend herself, "No, no, you don't understand. It wasn't like that at all! It was just...a weird dream, you know?" An incredibly weird dream that I may or may not want to happen in real life, she thought, but decided against saying.

Allison chuckled and Brietta pouted, her bottom lip jutting out slightly, "Alright, we won't tease you anymore. Dreams can be strange and unpredictable. But if it makes you uncomfortable, maybe try not to think about it too much."

Lydia chuckled under her breath, trying to contain her laughter, "And if you ever have any more interesting dreams, feel free to share. We promise not to judge...too much."

Brietta rolled her eyes, realizing that her attempt to share her dream had led to an unexpected and slightly embarrassing conversation. "Fine, fine. Let's just change the subject. Please."

The three girls exchanged glances, searching for a new topic of conversation. After a brief silence, Allison blushed slightly, eliciting a knowing look between Lydia and Brietta.

"Allie?" Brietta sought, narrowing her eyes at Allison, who avoided her gaze as the red in her cheeks deepened, "Do you have something you want to share?"

Allison mumbled something under her breath, prompting Lydia and Brietta to exchange a perplexed look, silently questioning if they had caught her words. They both shrugged, then refocused their attention on Allison.

"You're gonna have to be a little louder, Allie," Lydia informed, holding her thumb and index finger just a fraction of an inch apart for emphasis.

Allison pursed her lips, shooting Brietta an apologetic glance. "I'm actually having a study date with your brother after school today," she confessed, speaking faster than she normally does.

Brietta's eyes widened, and she leaned forward, disbelief coloring her voice. "My brother?" Her pitch climbed, and she cleared her throat, continuing in a more composed tone. "My brother? Ellington Chastener? The guy took off his clothes and ran around a mall naked when he was four?"

Allison nodded, her expression showing a slight cringe. "Yeah, that's the one."

Brietta nodded, her eyebrows furrowing as she processed what Allison had just revealed. Allison held Brietta's gaze for a moment before finally breaking the silence. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Brietta shook her head, her concern still evident on her face. She tilted her head, fixing her gaze on Allison. "But my brother? Are you sure?"

Allison snickered under her breath before nodding with a small smile. "Yes, I'm sure. We got paired up in French yesterday, and we just...started talking. I mean, he's funny, charming, cute—."

Brietta's strangled sound interrupted Allison. "I don't need to hear all that, but I approve. Like 94%."

Lydia snickered beside Brietta as the school bell rang in the courtyard, signaling that their last period was about to begin. "Well, this was fun," Lydia giggled, earning two sharp glares—one from Allison and one from Brietta. Lydia rolled her eyes before backtracking, "Fun for me."

Lydia grabbed her school bag and stood up from the table. As she started to walk away, she stopped and turned back to Brietta, her red hair swirling around her.

"Oh, Brie. If you ever say that Scott and Stiles are your best friends, I will maim you," Lydia warned with a playful smile, her shoulders lifting. "Clearly, I hold the position of your best friend."

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"I WANT YOU GUYS TO GET PERSONAL," Mrs. Bressler urged, patting the desk that she was sitting on to emphasize her point, "Make a project about a life-altering event that has happened to you. Something that you still think about or something that you've suppressed."

Brietta nodded, scribbling the last of her notes before giving her Psychology teacher her full attention.

"Life-altering doesn't necessarily mean traumatic, I don't want to retraumatize you guys," Bressler snickered slightly as she held up her hand, looking around the room with a pointed look, "but this is a psychology class and, at the beginning of the year, I warned you all that we'll be getting into the nitty-gritty and whatnot."

Bressler clapped her hands together as she slid off the desk, "We got it? More information will be on our class website and I'm always here for an hour after school."

Murmurs of acknowledgment rang through the room and Bressler grinned, bouncing slightly, "Great! This is due on February 10th. That gives you," Bressler shook her hand as she thought before her eyes lit up, "about two weeks to complete."

The bell rang just as Bressler finished talking, making her shrug with a smile, "I guess that's it. Remember, you can write an essay or a poem, paint something, build something, or even do a slideshow. Whatever your modality is."

Everyone packed up and began to file out of the room. Brietta followed the horde before waving at Bressler, earning a wide smile back.

As Brietta made her way to her locker, she thought about what she'd do for her project. Writing was her obvious choice—however, the topic would be hard.

On one hand, Brietta could write about her mother's death.

At the thought, she shakes her head as she reaches her locker. She's made every project about her mother. Brietta wanted a change in pace, something new.

A quick thought crossed her mind, but she set it aside. She can't exactly write about her best friend becoming a Werewolf.

Brietta's frustration was evident as she turned the dial on her locker, grumbling under her breath. The familiar click of the dial signaled the opening of the locker door, and she wasted no time in unloading her textbooks inside.

With swift movements, she crammed the books into the limited space, their weight and bulk adding to her mounting annoyance. The disarray within the locker mirrored her inner turmoil, making her frown.

As she forcefully closed the locker door, a sense of temporary relief washed over her. The textbooks were out of sight, but the weight of her responsibilities remained heavy on her shoulders.

With a deep breath, Brietta swiftly retrieved her headphones from the side pocket of her messenger bag, along with her phone. As she plugged the cord into her device, she began to walk away from her locker and in the direction of the exiting hallway.

Carefully nestling the earbuds into her ears, she scrolled through her liked music. With a few taps on her phone screen, The Script's Breakeven began to flow into her ears, enveloping her in a cocoon of sound.

As Brietta turned the corner into another hall, her mind still lingering in the world of music, she remained oblivious to Derek Hale's unsteady approach in her direction.

Unbeknownst to her, he stumbled along, his attention focused on the ground before finally lifting his gaze to Jackson Whittemore, who was engrossed in organizing his textbooks within his locker.

"Where's Scott McCall?" Derek swallowed as he approached the lacrosse player. His skin was pale and damp from his sweat.

"Why should I tell you?" Jackson questioned, his words laced with suspicion.

Derek locked eyes with Jackson, his gaze unwavering, "Because I asked you politely, and I only do that once."

Jackson chuckled haughtily, his pompous arrogance on display. "Hmm. Okay, tough guy." He took a deep breath and moved closer to Derek. "How about I help you find him if you tell me what you're selling him? What is it? Is it, uh, Dianabol?" Derek stares at him blankly, confused as to what he's getting at.

With a snarl, he leaned forward in Derek's face. "Hm? HGH?"

Derek frowns impatiently when he realizes what Jackson is implying, "Steroids?"

As Derek turned to walk away, a sudden grip on his arm halted his movement. Irritated, he glanced back to find Jackson, now the one filled with impatience, holding onto him tightly, "No, Girl Scout cookies. What the hell do you think I'm talking about?"

Then he noticed Derek's appearance—pale skin, sweaty brow, dark undereye circles, and such weakness that Derek was struggling to remain standing—and scoffed with a small smirk. "Oh, and by the way, whatever it is you're, uh, selling, I'd probably stop sampling the merchandise. You look wrecked."

Derek's gaze shifted downward, drawn to his own hand. Thick rivulets of blood cascaded down his fingertips, staining them crimson before splattering onto the floor below. The sight served as a stark reminder of the urgency and severity of his condition.

He clenched his fist and pushed past the teenager. "I'll find him myself."

Jackson, not willing to lose his chance to find out what Scott's secret is, tried to grab Derek once more. "No, we're not done here—."

The Werewolf snatched the lacrosse player's neck and pinned Jackson against the blue lockers face-first. As he felt blood coat around his fingers, he removed his hand and knitted his brows.

His nails were sharp and clawed deep into the back of Whittemore's neck.

He swallowed harshly and bolted away from the boy, leaving Jackson to clutch the wound and turn to the man with a frantic look.

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"BRIETTA!" Brietta instinctively cringed, her muscles tensing as she contemplated whether to keep walking down the path leading out of school or to turn around. Although she wrestled with her own emotions, she knew deep down that hurting Scott was the last thing she wanted to do.

After all, she did ignore him two other times.

Reluctantly, Brietta slowed her pace and slowly turned to face Scott, "Hey, Scott..." She pulled out her headphones and tucked them in her pocket with her phone, "I thought that was you."

Scott stared at her blankly, "I know you heard me. Your music's been off for a while."

Brietta scoffs out a small breath as her eyebrows knitted, "How did you...?" Wordlessly, Scott tapped his ears, earning a small grumble from Brietta.

"I, uh," Brietta scratched the back of her neck, "forgot about that..."

"Brietta, what's going on?" Scott asked softly, his voice filled with genuine care. "You've been avoiding us."

Brietta's resolve wavered as she met Scott's earnest gaze, "I...I'm not avoiding you guys."

Scott tilted his head with a frown, "You are. You have been for the past two days."

Brietta inhaled deeply as she considered his words. It was true; she'd been avoiding him and Stiles since they left her house after their sleepover. She just couldn't look at them without remembering...

Stiles's fingers tightened their grip on her hip, anchoring them in the moment as the world faded into insignificance. Her eyelids fluttered shut in response, sealing off the outside world as their connection deepened.

As Brietta felt fingernails scrape against her skin, she pulled away from the kiss, her eyes still closed. The hand on her ass pulls away and moves over to her cheek, caressing it.

Brietta's eyes flutter open and her breath catches in her throat, "Scott?"

Like Stiles, Scott doesn't speak either, and instead leans into her, his lips ghosting over hers.

Yeah...that.

Brietta flushes at the dream and shakes her head, attempting to shake away the dream. "Yeah, I just..." Brietta paused to try to scrounge up a lie—maybe use the bus driver's death as an excuse—but Scott spoke up, "Don't lie to me, Brelly. Please."

Brietta stares at him like a deer in headlights. How exactly is she supposed to tell him that she had a sex dream starring him and his best friend?

"Uh..." Brietta stared at him before pursing her lips. Luckily, a loud honk sounds behind them, followed by a bunch of other honks. The unexpected noise startled them, breaking the tension in the air and diverting their attention.

They both turn around to see a line of cars trying to leave the school's parking lot. At the beginning of the line was a blue Jeep.

"Stiles," Scott and Brietta both sighed before they approached the line of cars to investigate further. As they drew closer, they could see the frustration etched on the faces of the drivers, all stuck in a slow-moving queue because of Stiles.

However, as they get closer, their eyes widen as they see Derek swaying in front of Stiles' stopped Jeep.

Scott groans and mutters under his breath as well, "Oh, no, no, no! No, not here!"

Scott and Brietta run toward Stiles' Jeep just as Derek's legs give out from under him and cause him to collapse onto the pavement in front of Stiles' stalled Jeep. In the driver's seat, Stiles throws up his arms in exasperation, "You've gotta be kidding me. This guy's everywhere!"

Horns continued to blare loudly, and Stiles spun around, his heart sinking as he observed the growing line of cars behind his motionless vehicle. To make matters worse, other students who are milling around outside of the school are starting to watch the scene unfold in front of them as well. Scott, at last, reached Stiles' car and threw his arms up in exasperation as he leaned toward the open window and exclaimed, "What the hell?"

Instead of going to the window, Brietta kneels beside Derek and examines his deathly appearance, "Are you dying?"

Derek just stares at her with a mixture of a glare and something else that she can't quite pinpoint.

Scott rushes over to Derek and Brietta and kneels down next to Derek, and Stiles gets out of his car to follow after him.

"What are you doing here?" Scott asked, his gaze shifting between Stiles, Brietta, and Derek. Derek let out a heavy sigh, his eyes shut, and his head hung low. "I got shot," Derek managed to mumble in his weary state.

Brietta's eyebrows furrowed, "So you came to a high school?"

"He's not looking so good," Stiles observed, stating the obvious, and exchanged a concerned glance with Scott. Scott's eyes returned to Derek, and he scrutinized his pale, sweaty face. "Why aren't you healing?" Scott inquired, his worry evident.

Derek groaned in agony, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily. "I can't," he replied through gritted teeth, his voice strained. "It was... it was a different kind of bullet," Derek explained, pausing to take a deep, labored breath.

Stiles perked up at Derek's words, "What, a silver bullet?"

Derek is able to fight through the pain long enough to shoot Stiles an irritated look, "No, you idiot."

Scott had a silent epiphany. "Wait, wait, that's what she meant when she said you had forty-eight hours." Derek flashed Scott a wide-eyed look, "What? Who...who said forty-eight hours?"

Scott frowned, "The one who shot you."

Derek's eyes flashed blue as he exhaled sharply and groaned audibly. More horns blared, and Scott frantically scanned his surroundings, "What are you doing? Stop that!"

Derek shakes his head as his voice takes on an impatient tone, "That's what I'm trying to tell you. I can't." Behind them, cars were starting to honk even more urgently.

Scott puts his hands on Derek's shoulders and looks him intently in the eyes, "Derek, get up."

The line of cars, which includes a very irritable Jackson and Lydia, are honking their horns impatiently, and even Allison, who is behind them, is frowning at the hold-up before getting out of her car to see what is going on. Jackson follows suit.

Scott, seeing this, pulls Derek to his feet, calling out to Stiles and Brietta for assistance. He then looks at Stiles, "Help me get him in your car."

Scott, Stiles, and Brietta all help Derek into the passenger seat of the car. As soon as they get Derek in, Scott and Brietta pile into the back of the jeep through Stiles' front seat.

"You really need to get a back door," Brietta grunts as she stretches over the bent-over driver's seat. Stiles scoffs from behind her, "Yeah, I'll just saw off the sides and get some doors."

Scott shrugs as he gets in behind Brietta, "That's not such a bad idea."

Stiles huffs out a chuckle behind Scott as he puts his driver's seat back up and gets into the seat, "I'm not maiming my car, Scott."

As Stiles started the car, Derek heaved from the front seat, "I need you guys to find out what kind of bullet they used."

Scott scoffs incredulously, "How the hell am we supposed to do that?"

Derek slowly picks up his head and looks back at Brietta, "'Cause she's an Argent. She's with them."

Brietta's heart sank, and a frown appeared on her face, "My brother's going over to her house." As much as Brietta hated her next words, she didn't want Derek to die, "I can get him to try to find out about the bullet."

Scott examines Brietta's downcast expression before glaring at Derek, "Why should we help you?"

Derek, genuinely looking scared at his chances of survival, tries to reason with him in a weak voice, "Because you need me."

Scott and Stiles locked eyes in the rearview mirror for a moment before Stiles grumbled, "I hate you so much for this." Stiles scoffs before putting his car into drive and hightailing it out of the parking lot.

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ELLINGTON GAZED UP AT ALLISON FROM HIS SPOT ON THE FLOOR, his hands motioning to a box of her things. Allison sat on her bed with one knee up, her head resting on it as she looked over at him with a small smile.

Allison looked over at the box before shrugging, her smile still on her lips, "I'm still unpacking..."

Ellington's eyebrow quirked down as he tilted his head at her with a matching smile, "Haven't you been here for, like, over a month?"

Allison rolled her eyes, but she was still wearing a smile, "I'm taking my time." Ellington held his hands up in defeat, "Can't really say anything, I guess. My suitcase from our summer trip still has some clothes in it."

Allison scoffed out a laugh, "And you're teasing me?"

Ellington shrugged, rising to his feet. He sat beside Allison on her bed. They stared at each other for a moment before Ellington smiled at her, "I like teasing you."

Allison narrowed her eyes at him with a smile before leaning towards him, brushing her lips against his. Ellington didn't waste a second closing the gap and pulling Allison into his lap, his hands grasping at the back of her thighs.

She ran her hands through his hair and slowly ground on his lap, making him gasp into her mouth. As they continued for a minute, Ellington's eyebrows furrowed and he pulled away for a moment, making Allison frown, "What's wrong?"

Ellington moved his hands from her thighs to her back as he looked up at her, "I just..." He winced, his eyes closing momentarily before he inhaled deeply and opened his eyes, "I don't want you to think that I came here to do this."

Allison leaned back, prompting Ellington's eyes to widen, "I mean I like this, I really like this," Ellington smiled at her, "but I don't want you to do something that you do want to do. So...do you? Want to do this, I mean."

Allison smiled at him as her hands continued to run through his hair, "I'm not doing anything I don't wanna do. Are you?"

Ellington rapidly shakes his head with wide eyes, "No, I completely want this." Allison smiles at him with a small laugh before leaning forward and kissing him.

Ellington smiles against Allison's lips as his hands trail down from her back to her ass. In a swift movement, he turns them on the bed, Allison's back on her sheets.

They move up the bed without pulling apart, neither of them willing to lose a second. As they found a comfortable spot on the bed, Allison wrapped her legs around Ellington as he ground against her, his lips moving from hers to her neck.

As he began to suck on the skin, his phone rang in his back pocket. He ignored it, letting his phone go to voicemail as he continued to kill along Allison's neck.

However, it rang again and he dropped his head in the crook of Allison's neck with a groan. Allison lets out a breathy laugh before gently tugging on Ellington's hair, "You should probably answer that."

Ellington brought his head up, hovering above Allison with a frown, "Yeah, probably." He climbed off Allison's bed and reached into his back pocket to pull out his phone. Once he saw it was his sister who was calling, he answered without hesitation and looked back at Allison. "I'll be right back," He whispered before scurrying out of Allison's room.

"Brie?" Ellington sought into the phone. He heard rustling followed by a yelp before Brietta's voice came in, slightly breathless and sweeter than usual, "Hey, Eli."

The frown on Ellington's lips fell and he glared at the wall across from him, imagining it was his sister's face, "What do you want?"

There was a moment of silence before he heard a male voice distantly, "Just do it."

Ellington's eyebrows furrowed and he straightened, "Brie, are you okay?"

A sigh came in through the phone before her voice followed, "I need a favor, Eli."

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄

I've been waiting to make Eli a more prominent character so this chapter is important for that.

Also, did I have to add him and Allison having a make-out sesh? No. __( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)__

▍PUBLISHED . . 09/16/23 — ♡︎ ୫
© POETICLULLS,                    2023