'cause you never think the last time's going to be the last time - you think there will be more. you think you have forever, but you don't.' meredith grey, grey's anatomy.

season 1, episode 6
heart monitor

Othing about being a teenager is that they lie to their parents. They lie about their grades, their life, and everything under the sun, and hidden in the shadows. If they think for even a second there is a chance of disappointing them, they lie. It is a failsafe and an instinctive response.

That is why when Damian came home without his typical celebration dinner and asked Neviah why she had missed assignments for multiple classes, she lied.

She lied. She told him she believed she turned them in earlier since she always does her homework ahead of time. She told him she'd catch up and that he had nothing to worry about.

And he believed her.

Neviah didn't know she had missed assignments; she barely remembered the assignments when Damian showed her. It scared her that she forgot. A simple thing that she was always on top of, she forgot.

She had been forgetting a lot of things lately. That scared her. Like time-shifted and she was the only person on the Earth who wasn't informed. Her mind was formed to remember every detail, no matter how minuscule. The terror filled her throat until she couldn't swallow.

But she had made more room to allow for more lies to fall out.

Damian informed her that Noah Stilinski got into an accident at the school. He told her they would visit the Stilinski's in the morning and bring food Kory made for them. And Neviah told him, okay. As if she and Stiles hadn't gotten into an argument the day before and she told him she didn't care about him.

She lied.

Now, she stood in the Stilinski's living room, remembering all of the memories of her smaller self running through the hallway, being chased by Stiles. He always found frogs by the drain and would chase the girl with them. He ignored his mother's orders to stop because he found Neviah's fear of frogs too hilarious. He would always have to clean up the mud he tracked in, and Neviah would always help him. He would always ask why she helped him, and she would always say no reason.

She lied.

Neviah didn't want to be there. Even if she was worried about Noah and wanted to know he was okay, she didn't want to be there. Something crawled beneath her skin, bumps growing from its path. She didn't want to see Stiles. She embedded the idea that never seeing him again was for the better. Better for her. Better for him. Could she decide that for him? Did it matter if it was for her?

Was it truly what she wanted?

When Noah asked, "Neviah, could you give this to Stiles and check on him? He's been in his room all night."

She had the gnawing urge to comply. Not for Noah. For herself. Pathetic.

Knocking on his door, Neviah awaited a response. Nothing. She knocked again. Feet slammed to the ground, stomping to the door. She stepped back.

"Dad, you shouldn't be up—" Stiles realized that it wasn't his dad. Red drowned his hazel eyes and flushed his cheek. His appearance almost made Neviah feel worse. Tightening in her chest, pinching around the caged organ. Her fingers fidgeted against the plastic container. "What are you doing here?"

He was upset, obviously. Upset that she was there after all she said. Upset that his dad was injured. Upset for reasons Neviah didn't particularly care about—that was a lie.

Neviah straightened her shoulders, holding out the tupperware filled with Kory Alexander's infamous cooking. "Your dad wanted me to check on you and give you this, so how are you doing?"

Stiles scoffed, taking the food with a small and forced polite thank you. He walked in, not expecting Neviah to follow. But she did, scanning his boyish room she became familiar with over winter break. "I'm fine."

It was cleaner than expected. Better than the last time she was there. His scent clouded her senses, reminding him of his touch. She imagined his lips grazing hers; one right inhale away from completing the gap. Neviah huffed, taking a seat on his bed. "He'll know I'm lying."

"I'm not lying," he grunted, removing the lid and slamming it onto his desk. He sat down with a similar force and sass. Neviah raised a brow at him, pointing out that his actions spoke otherwise. "I'm fine."

She rolled her eyes, placing her bag to the side of her. "If you're going to lie, at least attempt to make it believable."

"So, what? You're the only one who can lie about how they are?"

"Obviously," she answered jokingly. He didn't take it as a joke. Stiles rolled his eyes. He spun to face his desk and ate. Neviah shifted. Her fingers curled and uncurled over the edge of her sweater.

Neviah knew she could just lie easily, come up with a believable answer for Noah, and leave. Yet, she stayed. She stayed because she lied. She did care about him. She cared about the boy who used to chase her with frogs until he tripped on his own shoelaces and cried because he skinned his chin. She cared about the boy she was forced to buy Christmas gifts for when she was young.

She cared for the boy he used to be, because the girl she used to be did.

She cared because they were once friends, even if they both refused to outwardly admit it.

And she cared for reasons she refused to speak aloud. She believed if they were brought into the light, they would inevitably become reality. Or worse, it would come to light, and she was left to be exposed.

A second huff came out of her before she toed off her shoes and laid back with a squeak of his bed. His chair created a similar noise when he turned to look at her.

"What are you doing?"

Neviah peeled open one eye. "We both know by the time they finish talking, the first late bell will ring. Might as well sleep." Because she hadn't had much sleep before. She closed the eye once more.

Unexpectedly, Stiles laughed. A bubbly laugh that came out of nowhere and subsided in a few seconds. Neviah's lips twitched.

"Do you remember that one Thanksgiving with Scott and his mom?" Neviah could hear a smile in his voice. A warmth stirred inside her.

The reminder of any of the possible years, made Neviah giggle. She muffled it with her palm. "Are you talking about the Thanksgiving when our dads tried to explain how football works but couldn't figure out how to explain and ended up arguing until Melissa forced them to eat outside?" Stiles laughed loudly, attempting to cover it with his arm.

"Orr," Neviah dragged out, opening her eyes. She sat up, resisting a smile as the memory played in her head. "The Thanksgiving when they told us about the guy who stole twelve turkeys and scattered them around the park like an Easter Egg Hunt."

"Both, obviously," Stiles said, trying to keep a straight face, only to have that laugh bubble up again. Neviah couldn't hold hers in. She looked down at her lap as she laughed.

She covered her face with her hands before throwing her head up to imagine the memory on the ceiling. "God, you were so upset when Melissa told you that you couldn't hunt turkeys like Easter eggs."

Stiles pointed his finger at her, knocking off a few pieces of rice from his spoon. "Hey, turkey hunting would be fun if the turkey wasn't stripped of its feathers and could spoil in the sun."

Neviah exaggerated a shudder, making him laugh. "Wow, you're still disgusting and childish."

"You're still a stuck-up, killjoy," he pointed out with a smile, leaning back as he ate a spoon full of his food.

Neviah scoffed, shaking her head. He always called her a killjoy when they were younger. All because she hated his stupid pranks and shitty jokes. Which meant he would always pull more pranks on her.

Until she grew up.

Neviah believed she was still that young girl, only grown up and adapted. She still hated frogs, just less scared of them. She still liked dresses and pretty colors. She just grew up and unfortunately, grew apart from the others. She adapted and became someone that was bearable to herself. Someone to protect herself when others failed to set up.

"So, are you okay?" Neviah asked after some silence. A comfortable silence.

Stiles stared at her for a moment, debating what to say. He bounced his hand before placing his spoon in the container. "I will be."

She nodded, squeezing the edge of the bed. That was the truth.

"And you?" he echoed. Neviah furrowed her brows. "Are you okay?"

"I will be."

The truth. It was nice.

༻❁༺

"The what of who?" Lydia inquired, genuinely confused as to what the hell Allison was talking about.

Neviah was also confused. She opted for Polish rather than Spanish, and much more so over French. Though, that was also in middle school and Neviah has started learning Spanish. Maybe French was next.

Who was she kidding? Neviah would rather choke than learn French. Love language her ass.

"The Beast of Gevaudan," Allison repeated from the book she was reading. She had been carrying that thing all day for her French assignment. "Listen. 'A quadrupled wolf-life monster, prowling the Auvergne and South Dordogne areas of France during the year 1764 to 1767. La Bete killed over a hundred people, becoming so infamous that King Louie the 15th sent one of his best hunters to try and kill it.'"

"Boring," Lydia responded without hesitation.

Neviah chuckled, taking a bit into Lydia's blueberry cake. The redhead gasped but didn't stop Neviah. Neviah smiled to herself. They hadn't spoke about the other day. There didn't seem to be a need to. Neviah was still Neviah, and Lydia was still Lydia—nothing like Lilith.

"'Even the church eventually declared the monster a messenger of Satan.'" Allison paused for a response or effect. Perhaps to take a breath.

"Hmm. Still boring."

"The church also believed the sun revolved around the Earth. Am I supposed to trust them?" Neviah asked playfully. Allison gave her a look to knock it off. Neviah waved her hand. "What? It's the truth."

"'Cryptozoologists believe it may have been a subspecies of hooked predator, possibly a nemonychid.'"

"'Slipping into a coma' bored," Lydia stated, urging Allison to either get to the point or get to something more interesting.

"'While others believe it was a powerful sorcerer who could shape-shift into a man-eating monster,'" Allison continued, looking up to her friends with fear in her eyes.

Lydia furrowed her eyebrows. "That sounds like how guys describe Neviah after fucking and dumping."

"Hey!" Neviah pouted, taking another piece of her cake to comfort the critical hit.

"Does any of this have anything to do with your family?" Lydia questioned, returning to the main point of the story time.

"This," Allison said, returning to the book. "'It is believed that La Bete was finally trapped and killed by a renown hunter who claimed his wife and four children were first to fall prey to the creature.'" The two girls gave Allison a look, still not understanding how this connected to her.

Finally, she got the hint and went straight to the point. "His name was Argent."

Neviah gaped in shock. Fakely, of course.

Lydia also lacked a reaction of amazement. "Your ancestors killed a big wolf. So what?"

"Not just a big wolf," Allison corrected, flipping the pages. "Take a look at this picture. What does it look like to you?"

The picture was a drawing of a wolf. But not actually a wolf. The creature stood on its hind legs, towering over dead bodies with fog rolling over them. Its piercing red eyes were the first thing Neviah noticed. A monster was her answer.

But it was fake. A fable created to keep generations in awe of a great hunter, who probably took a bear to a pub of drunks, who deemed it to be something it wasn't. Because in their minds it was.

That's all it was. Perception.

"The Beast from the Beauty and the Beast, obviously," Neviah answered with a small shrug and smirk. "Maybe with true love's kiss, you can find out the truth!"

"Come on, Nav," Allison groaned. She decided Neviah didn't care and returned to Lydia. Lydia was entranced by the artwork. Her face fell with horror that Neviah only saw in movies.

"Lydia?" Neviah called out, raising an eyebrow.

It was as if Lydia was staring into the eyes of the truth. And the truth, terrifying as ever, stared back.

"Lydia," Allison repeated, pulling the girl's attention. Everything snapped back.

"It looks ... like a big ... wolf," she answered with a teasing smile. "See you in history."

Neviah waved goodbye, taking claim of the little leftover cake. She would have got her own, but there was more fun in sharing. Allison looked...defeated after Lydia left, staring at the picture. "What do you see, Alli?"

Allison lifted her head, finding Neviah observing her with more interest than she had given before. She looked back down at the picture. It was a truth. To Allison, it was something. "A ... monster. A werewolf."

That word. Everyone used it like it was real. It wasn't.

"If you say so," Neviah said, regretting she asked. "God, my head hurts. Do you have any Ibuprofen?"

"Yeah." Allison pulled out the bottle of painkillers and handed Neviah the bottle. Neviah looked at her confused. "You've been having headaches, like all week, so keep it."

Neviah smiled. "Thank you, Alli."

"Oh, have you applied for the summer internship?" Allison asked, surprising Neviah that she remembered.

The girl shrugged, searching for her water bottle—actual water, she knew better than to mix medication with alcohol. "Yeah, I turned it in last week. I'm just waiting for a response now."

"You'll get in, no doubt," Allison affirmed with a wide smile. She truly believed in Neviah. It made the girl believe in herself—more than she already did.

"I hope so."

Allison nodded, returning to her book. Whether or not it was fiction or the stretched-out truth, it had something to do with Allison's lineage. It would make sense for her family to be hunters. Her dad was an arms dealer for God's sake. Weaponry must have run through their veins.

"Hey, Allison, Scott said something about wanting to talk to you," Malikai said rather loudly. Allison nodded as she spotted her boyfriend. Neviah glanced back to see Stiles and Harley walking away from Scott. Not even a second later, Scott rushed out.

"Scott?" Allison called out, leaving Neviah alone with Malikai.

"I should go. I have History," Neviah lied, gathering her things.

Malikai snatched her bag. Neviah attempted to reach for it back, but he was quicker. "Bell doesn't ring for another five minutes."

"I've gotta walk to class, Mal. Give me my bag, please." Her eye twitched from pain.

"No." He held it to his chest tighter like a child. Neviah scowled. "You've been avoiding me." He tilted his head with a small frown. "Why?"

"What makes you say that?" Neviah asked, innocently with a mimic head tilt. He forced his head upright, narrowing his eyes.

He waved his hand out. "You literally just tried to leave."

She held up the pill bottle, giving it a little shake. "I need water to take these."

"Why are you taking those?"

"I'm switching to NSAIDs instead of alcohol," she confessed. Malikai's eyes widened. He reached to snatch the bottle away, but Neviah reacted quicker. "Chill! I'm joking."

He scoffed, shifting his hold on her bag to hold it with his elbows as he rubbed the sires of his temples.

"My headaches are back," she confessed honestly this time. She didn't want to; Malikai didn't deserve the truth if he offered only lies. But he was the only person she felt she could be honest with about the pain. "I forgot to get some the other day, and Alli gave me her bottle."

"Swim migraines or those migraines?"

"Both." Worry washed over his face. "I'm fine. I only take it twice a day with six hours in between, and only when it's too much."

"It's serious, Neviah," he claimed, leaning forward. "Those headaches are serious."

His concern was nice to hear. Someone being concerned for your sake—well, it was rather annoying sometimes—it showed they cared. Neviah just didn't want it from him. He gave sympathy sparingly nowadays. His mind caught up with his life and problems, he forgot one of the few people who stood by him. She was better off confiding in Jackson. At least he would snap her back into reality with his judgement.

"Have you forgotten anything lately?" He leaned back, knitting his eyebrows as he inspected her behavior.

Neviah shrugged. She knew she had. "What homework did we have for chem two days ago?"

Malikai scrunched his eyebrows, trying to think. His eyes unfocused as he was trying to remember himself. He refocused them once he remembered. "Chapters ten and eleven, and all of their questions. It was so hard."

"Actually, they were easy. If you read once in a while, you would learn the answers are in the book," she pointed out, gaping to make fun of him.

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, that was easy. What did we watch on Friday?"

Neviah let out a hum, looking around to think. Friday was a blur. "Kill Bill. But we didn't finish." She only knew that last part because the movie started playing the morning after when she turned on the TV. She thought they finished it when she went to bed.

"I told you to keep watching it." He groaned, knowing any unfinished movies would be watched next week.

She didn't remember that. At one point, they were watching the movie. Then the next, she was at Ray's with her dad. But by then the sun had been long gone.

There was something wrong with her. She didn't trust anyone enough to consider explaining it to them. How could anyone understand if she failed to? If she tried to tell her dad again, she would return to her therapy sessions with Marin Morrell and be forced to take her medication again. She didn't view it as help. It was just another way to suppress it all. She could do that for free.

Neviah opened her mouth to tell Mal that. It was like an involuntary response. She closed her mouth. She did remember the note. And she sure as hell trusted herself more than him.

"Well, I didn't. Which means we're watching only my picks on Friday," she teased with a smile. He groaned, throwing his head back. "So, is the interrogation over?"

Mal nodded reluctantly, handing back her bag. "Yes, but only if we hang out later."

Regardless of how she felt, there was a show she had to put on for normalcy. Not for herself, but for everyone else. And the show must go on. Oh, how the crowd hated it when their favorite toy—actor stepped out of place and ruined the show. She could never make them love her.

"Pick me up after swim practice, okay?" Her dad would be working Laura's case tonight, so she needed a ride anyway. As she walked away, she turned back and pointed at him. "And don't be late!"

As she put on a show for others to believe, she needed to find out the truth. It corroded her thoughts. Everything appeared to be connected. The notes beneath her bed; secrecy between Malikai, Stiles, Scott, and Harley; Derek returning.

It only lacked logical sense. Fantasy creatures were just that, fantasy. Nothing more than bedtime stories.

She looked in the area she knew best. Her research began based on her symptoms. She recognized them the moment she wrote them down in a list. Frontotemporal dementia. It made sense. Her brain had been shifting for years. Easy to blame it on puberty and grief in the young mind. Her physical symptoms aligned as well. Tremors and twitches. She only failed with the language symptoms. Her ability to read remained intact; she understood the two languages she knew, written and verbal.

There had to be something she overlooked. She needed an outside perspective.

Her phone buzzed. An unknown number. It had texted her before.

I have something you might want.

༻❁༺

Neviah hated Coach Camden Lahey. And when she said hated, it wasn't the petty hate that high schoolers had towards their teachers because they overloaded them with homework. Oh no, Neviah hated Coach Lahey with her whole, cold-blooded heart. He was a pure-blooded, asshole who strived off of the pain of others. He worked the swimmers through hell. And with all that hard work throughout five years, the team has never won.

God, she hated him more than Mr. Harris. A true asshole, born and raised, ingrained into his DNA. But Coach Lahey? He had to have been changed into an asshole because no one was as spiteful as someone who had everything ruined.

But even if she hated him, Neviah would never disrespect him.

Mostly out of fear. His eyes were soulless black holes that tracked you wherever you went. Which is why she occasionally tutored Isaac when she needed to get out of practice. She knew the things he did to his own son. It made sense seeing how he treated his students.

"Degrace!" Coach Lahey shouted as the girl stepped out of the pool last. Her head snapped up. Water dribbling from her cap. "Clean up and lock up." It wasn't a question; it was a demand. He tossed his keys on top of the drain grate in front of her. He didn't waste a second before leaving.

Sometimes tutoring doesn't please him enough. Probably why she's had to clean up every day after practice for not coming to the optional practice week. It was optional for fuck's sake.

Everyone had left or was leaving, forcing Neviah with no other choice but to comply. Cleaning up was easy since she came up with a routine. It gave her time to think and dry off. It also delayed the car ride with Malikai and hanging out with him.

There were many times when Neviah wished she didn't pretend. It wasn't like it was some requirement for her to do that, she would probably be less stressed without maintaining her walls every day. Yet, she did. She knew how teenagers were. She knew how they were similar to Coach Lahey and wanted to see her fall for their own entertainment. Even those who called themselves her friends. She knew because she was like them.

Everyone had an alternative motivation when it came to her power. If that wasn't true, Malikai would never be lying to her. He was stuck in a cobweb of lies that he spun himself. And for what? Neviah certainly didn't know. He had the cards to use against her, and she could only fold or play a poker face and deceive him. But that could only last so long.

Once she was done, Neviah checked her phone. No text from Malikai telling her he was there. Odd. She brushed it off and texted her dad to come pick her up. He responded saying he would be there as soon as he could get out of work.

Neviah bit back a groan, rolling her eyes instead. She turned off the light, letting the pool light illuminate the room. She headed into the locker room, wanting a smaller space to surround her. Removing her swim cap, she put on the first set of comfortable clothes she found in her bag, which happened to be one of Stiles' sweatshirts.

She was starting to think he was leaving his things on purpose. He knew they would inevitably fight, and she would have to return his stuff. Sure, they spoke that morning, but it wasn't enough to repair their deal or their friendship?—relationship? Whatever you could label them. Or Neviah was just giving him too much credit. He was Stiles Stilinski after all.

Neviah didn't bother putting on shorts. At least not now. She didn't want to deal with wet jeans material, rubbing against her body. The thought of it made her cringe.

She gathered her things and rubbed her face with a yawn. As she opened the door, there was a voice.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

Neviah blinked her tired eyes. "Allison?"

No answer.

The pool room was empty. No one but Neviah and her thoughts were there. She blamed it on her fatigue. No matter how long she's been swimming, chlorine leaves her wiped.

There was no new message from her dad when she checked her phone again. No message from Malikai either. Only a text from Lydia, asking if she wanted them to pick her up since they were picking up Allison. Something about Scott ditching her.

She texted the Martin girl back.

Neviah: No. My dad's picking me up.

Lydia: picking u up? where r u??

Neviah: school. had swim practice. remember?

Bubbles popped up. Then they went away. Neviah huffed, tucking her phone into her pocket. She left the pool area and headed towards the front.

There was a large amount of dust on the floor. Neviah glanced up and found the ceiling tiles cracked, some even opened. "What..."

A buzz came from her phone. Neviah went down the small steps, steering clear of the mess, and checked her phone. An email.

Neviah Degrace,

Congratulations! You've been accepted into the Beacon Hills County Summer Nursing Internship...

"Oh, my god," Neviah let out, not believing what she was reading. Her hand covered her lips to stifle her laughter. When she reluctantly sent in her application, she didn't think she would make it. She turned it in on the day of the deadline, rushed her application, and didn't think it was her best work.

The first thing that came to her exhausted mind when the acceptance email fully clicked, was to call Allison. The one person—besides Melissa and her dad—who saw Neviah's potential in her dreams.

"Hey, Alli, I have something super important to tell you—" Neviah started, but the sound of Allison crying made her stop. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"

The phone sounded like it was going through wind. Various voices that Neviah couldn't pick up, spoke, almost arguing. Neviah turned around, squeaking her shoes against the floors. Then someone spoke.

"Neviah, where are you?" Malikai asked on the other end, slowly. The other voices stopped. A chilling silence reverberated from the phone speaker.

Neviah rolled her eyes and scoffed. "School, because someone forgot to come pick me up."

"Shit."

"Mal, what the hell?"

"Is that Harley?" Neviah asked, turning around again. She faced the long science hallway. There someone stood. A tall shadowy figure. They stood still.

Neviah blinked, thinking it was in her head. She rubbed her eyes.

They were still there when she opened them again. Staring back at her despite the shadows devouring their eyes. Neviah could tell it was staring back at her. It was that feeling of being watched, creeping all over your body as if they were actually touching you with their sight.

"Is that you down the hallway?" Neviah questioned, stepping forward.

"No, Neviah! You need to—now," Mal shouted, breaking up over the phone.

The figure seemed to be growing larger. Their shoulders broadened. Its hands stayed by its sides as they grew longer. A red glow bloomed in the spots where their eyes should be. A dangerous red filled with hunger.

Just like Allison's picture.

"Mal," Neviah choked out. She didn't trust him; she didn't trust her mind. She didn't know if what she was seeing or hearing was real. It wasn't off to think it was a hallucination, seeing as it looked like the picture. Her mind often took pieces of reality and placed them in front of her, sometimes in dreams, sometimes awake. She needed something physical to ground her into reality.

"Neviah, can you hear me?" Stiles spoke, urgently but gently.

"Yeah."

"You need to run and hide, now, okay? Someone's trying to kill us," Stiles explained as Neviah's heart pounded in her chest. "Neviah, run!"

It was real. It was all very real.

Neviah ran in the other direction.

And whatever that thing was,

it chased after her. 

༻❁༺

woo, another update! for once, I have something to say. this chapter is leading up to the big shift our girl, neviah. as we can already see, she's cracking and it's gotten to the point where covering it up isn't helping. our girl seriously needs someone to talk to but I'm me and that won't happen until act 2 (even then, it's Isaac in his prime asshole days, so it's not really an upgrade)

sometimes I just want to give neviah a big hug and wonder why she is in so much pain at the young at of 16, but then I remember I did this to her and continue to write it while kicking my feet and giggling.

anyway, that's all. tell me your thoughts, theories, or random stuff! I love talking to you guys, it helps motivate me to continue my stories!

Edited: 11/13/2024