I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did Erica and Boyd would be such a thing you don't even know.

Song - #88 // Lo-Fang

Celeste's POV

"I swear to god it was like having my first kiss all over again, I felt like I was floating."

"Alli-cat," Celeste addressed her babbling friend with a grumpy pout, "I'm really excited for you, truly. However, if you don't shut up I will have no choice but to remove your rib bones with my bare hands."

Allison only laughed lightheartedly as the two of them sat side by side in her car. Celeste usually rode to school with Lydia, but her strawberry blonde friend had chosen to spend the night with Jackson –cue horrified shudders- and so she called Allison instead.

Celeste's abrasive attitude was due to the fact that she had gotten exactly one and a half hours of sleep last night. She had kept drifting off, only to be awoken by a twitching hand and an icy hot rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

She closed her eyes tiredly, remembering the enigmatic words that had appeared in smudged ink on the pages of her journal after she had given into the overwhelming urge to write.

The martyr, a victim whose fate was slashed through his chest with the sharp knife of his mistakes, a being living on the borrowed time of his past

The protector, a child of innocence whose soul was dredged down with uninvited responsibility, a white knight in a checkered sea of pawns

The predator, a creature whose fangs glinted sharply with the blaring reminder of his unfulfilled revenge, a monster with eyes dipped in the red blood of the lost

Whatever the hell that meant.

To be frank, Celeste didn't really care about the meaning, she cared only about the fact that she was about to be forced to endure Harris' class while the bags under her eyes attempted to swallow her entire face.

Allison pulled swiftly into the school's back lot, parking reluctantly in the gravel beside the bus lot along with the rest of the latecomers.

"How much coffee do you think I could drink before my body becomes so saturated with caffeine that I melt into a hyperactive puddle?" Celeste pondered out loud as she swung her backpack over her shoulders and begrudgingly stepped out of Allison's warm, comfy car.

"You know I've wondered the same thing," Allison as they walked towards the back entrance of the school, "only with butter. How much butter could a person consume in one sitting before death ensued?"

"A valid question, Argent," Celeste said while linking arms with her taller friend.

The two walked in comfortable silence, Allison with the floaty air of a young girl in love, and Celeste so exhausted that she may or may not have literally hissed at a terrified looking freshman when he accidentally bumped into her.

"Woah," Celeste slowed, causing Allison to stop with her, "what the hell happened here?"

The two girls looked on in shock as they took in the sight of one of the school buses, the back doors mangled and an obscene amount of blood spattered everywhere.

They stood stock still until one Sheriff Stilinski strode over, looking tired and confused.

"Sorry girls," he spoke, sounding very official, "but we are actually closing off this area, so if you could just move along."

Allison made a move to walk forward, but Celeste remained rooted in place, her eyes not moving from the gruesome crime scene.

"What happened?" she asked breathlessly, her mind already overflowing with dozens of equally gory scenarios, most of them werewolf related.

"Oh, hello Celeste," the sheriff recognized her once he actually bothered to pay attention to the two girls, "it seems to be another animal attack. Forensics is guessing a mountain lion."

"That doesn't make any sense," Celeste spoke bluntly, wincing when she realized how defiant she sounded, "sorry, but a cougar wouldn't have made such a mess. The kill would have been clean, because the sole purpose would be to obtain as much food as possible. Also, if it was desperate enough to come out of the mountains for food, it would have been too malnourished to rip apart the doors like that."

"Stiles said you were smart," the sheriff spoke, his eyes twinkling, "but at the moment we don't have any better leads."

Celeste did. A very angry werewolf that she prayed with all her heart wasn't Derek.

She couldn't exactly make her theories known, though, so instead she just smiled and went on her not so merry way.

Celeste tried her best not to focus on the horror behind them as they entered the school, knowing that if she let herself she would drown in her own worries. Mainly that she had possibly helped a crazed werewolf get out of jail.

Instead, she raised a brow as Allison's phone buzzed incessantly from her bag.

"Aren't you going to get that?" Celeste asked as they made their way down the school hallway.

"It's probably just my mom," Allison rolled her eyes, "she does this every day. She's so overprotective. She always calls to make sure I got to school safely. It's embarrassing."

"I think it's sweet," Celeste smiled sadly, "I could get abducted by aliens and impregnated with the antichrist and my mom still probably wouldn't care."

Allison frowned, seeing past Celeste's odd humor and noticing her well covered sadness. Her inquiries were cut off, however, when she collided into one very concerned looking Scott McCall and dropping her books everywhere.

"Oh my god," Allison breathed while Celeste laughed at her friend's expense, "you scared the hell out of me."

"You're okay," Scott confirmed, looking as though he expected her to have been guillotined or something.

Celeste raised a dark brow at his odd sense of relief, spotting Stiles a little ways away.

"Hey," she approached him, "why is Scott acting like Allison is a precious cinnamon roll too pure for this world? More so than usual, I mean."

"He had a dream where he crazy psycho murdered Allison in a bus," Stiles explained, looking at Celeste oddly, "you look nice today."

"Woah, a bus as in the one grotesquely mangled in the back of the school?" Celeste questioned, "And, uh, thanks."

Celeste was surprised by the compliment, especially since she was wearing a simple oversized maroon sweater and stone wash denim jeans.

She pushed away her urge to hide behind her hair and make a defense mechanism induced self-deprecating comment like she normally did when she received a compliment in light of the much more pressing matter of Scott having possibly demolished a school bus.

"Not- not that you don't look nice on other days. You look nice on all the days. I don't know why I even said that. You are very nice looki-,"

"Stiles," Celeste interrupted his manic rambling with red cheeks and an amused smile, "the bus?"

"Oh yeah," Stiles frowned, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, "I'm kind of hoping it was just a seriously amazing coincidence."

Secretly, Celeste was kind of relieved that at least it hadn't been Derek, because the guilt of allowing a man to hurt someone or something else would have weighed her down even more.

"Whatever," Celeste mumbled, "I am way too tired to deal with this."

"Me too," Stiles played along, "I hope they cancel class because of the accident."

"Attention students, this is your principal speaking," a voice crackled out over the loudspeaker, "I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night in one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled. Thank you."

A collective groan rippled throughout the halls of Beacon Hills High, and Celeste pointed at Stiles through narrowed eyes.

"Witch!" she cried, slightly delirious from sleep deprivation, and Stiles looked at her in surprise, "You've jinxed it for us all."

"Stop creating a scene," a familiar voice hissed in her ear, and Celeste groaned as Lydia grabbed her arm and pulled her off to biology, away from Stiles.

"Farewell, evil sorcerer," Celeste called to Stiles, who gave a jerky, confused salute in return.

"Why do I even associate myself with you?" Lydia rolled her eyes at her dark haired friend.

"Because I make fantastic red velvet cupcakes," Celeste offered, poking her friend in the side playfully.

"True," Lydia shrugged with pursed lips as the two fell into stride together.

Celeste snickered as the two slowed to meet up with a peeved looking Jackson, who was fiddling with the door of his locker that had somehow been torn off.

"Remind me to send whoever did that a batch of cookies," Celeste said playfully as the three of them walked the short distance to the biology classroom, causing Lydia to whack her upside the head.

Jackson only rolled his eyes before proceeding to grab a poor, unsuspecting Lydia and engage in a blatant display of public affection right outside Mr. Harris' door.

Celeste twisted her face up in disgust, entering the room alone and making her way to her table.

"Isaac La-hey," Celeste greeted an already seated Isaac as she sat down on her uncomfortable metal stool.

"That was terrible," Isaac spoke bashfully, barely lifting his head up to address her, but the corners of his mouth twitched upwards.

"Shut up, your face is terrible," Celeste quipped, earning a scoff from the sleepy-eyed boy beside her, "and you smiled, didn't you? That means I met my goal for the day."

"Your only goal was to make me smile?" he peered up at her cautiously.

"Yeah," Celeste nodded before slouching her posture slightly, "Wow. My life is sad."

Isaac laughed softly, and Celeste could feel the tension within him melt slightly, causing her to smile to herself.

"H-hey," Isaac started apprehensively, "does your offer still stand? To help me study?"

"For sure," she smiled at him encouragingly, "did you want to meet up?"

"If it's not too much trouble," Isaac agreed with hope shining in his blue eyes, "I got a D on our last test and my dad wasn't too happy."

"I get that," Celeste frowned at the way he winced when he brought up his father, "how about Friday? We can do it at my house."

"Thank you so much, Celeste," Isaac looked at her as though she had just payed his college tuition, "really."

"Of course," Celeste said softly, confused but pleased with his gratitude, "anytime."

"Mr. Stilinski," Harris drawled out from the front of the room, causing Celeste to turn her attention to Stiles, "if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while."

Stiles scoffed, and Celeste cocked her head to the side in confusion, peering at a head-phoneless Stiles.

"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?" the robot continued.

"No," Stiles whined out, and Celeste had to stifle a laugh.

Harris sent him a purposeful glare, so Scott and Stiles scrambled out of their seats, collecting their things and moving away from each other. Scott moved to the front of the room by a pretty girl wearing an outdated hat, and Stiles moved to a seat just two away from Celeste.

"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much," Harris said smugly, to which Stiles responded with a sarcastic laugh.

The room fell back into a dismal silence that could only be brought on by Harris. Celeste, too lazy to reach into her bag for her textbook, wordlessly leaned in next to Isaac and read off of his.

"Hey I think they found something," the girl next to Scott suddenly exclaimed, causing a riot as all the students raced to the windows, Celeste included.

The eagerness of teenagers to view disaster was profoundly disturbing, but Celeste couldn't help but watch with rapt attention next to Scott and Stiles with the rest of her class.

They all looked on in horror as a man in a stretcher was rolled towards an ambulance, which Celeste took as a sign that he was hopefully still within the realm of saving.

"That's not a rabbit," Scott mumbled beside her, and she frowned at his peculiar statement but brushed aside as she observed the man on the gurney.

The class collectively jumped back as the man sat up on the stretcher quite suddenly, Celeste backing into Stiles' chest in shock.

"This is good," Stiles said to Scott as the three of them moved away from the crowd, "this is good. He got up. That means he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."

Celeste grabbed Scott's hand comfortingly, and he squeezed back gratefully, a look of distress painted across his tan face.

"Guys," he said, his eyes darting nervously between his two friends, "I did that."

☾ ☽

"I wish I had a hazmat suit," Celeste piped up from behind Lydia as they made their way through the lunch line.

"Ew," Lydia wrinkled her nose as she grabbed a shining, genetically modified red apple from the basket, "yellow is so not your color."

"Shut up," Celeste frowned as they approached the checkout line, "your face isn't your color."

Lydia snorted while she punched in her student ID code for the lunch lady, who looked like she'd rather be disposing of toxic waste than serving ungrateful high schoolers.

Celeste smiled softly at the woman as she entered her own ID.

"You need to work on your comebacks," Lydia informed her, gently herding her away from the middle table to a table near the windows, "and we're sitting with Scott and his twitchy sidekick today."

Celeste smiled brightly as they approached the two boys, excited at the prospect of all her friends intermingling.

"We'll figure it out," Stiles was saying to Scott when they reached them.

"Figure what out?" Lydia asked primly, confidently plopping down next to Scott as Celeste slid quietly into the seat next to a confused looking Stiles with a soft, sympathetic smile.

"Uh," Scott stuttered out, looking flustered, "just, uh, homework."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, his voice dropping an octave lower than usual for whatever reason.

"Why are they sitting with us?" Stiles leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone to Scott, and Celeste snorted at his obviousness.

Scott looked disgruntled, but perked up immediately as he moved his backpack so Allison could sit beside him.

"Thanks," she said coyly, sitting gracefully next to her crush.

Celeste's breath was taken away as a large body suddenly dropped on top of her.

"Danny," she whined breathlessly at the cackling boy, "get the hell off of me. What do you eat? Bricks?"

The tall boy chuckled, moving to the seat beside Celeste casually, as if he hadn't just almost killed her. Stiles nodded at him, and Danny just glared back. Celeste laughed at his irrational hatred towards the spastic boy.

"Oh," she turned towards Stiles, reaching into her bag and clumsily pulling out a bright orange hoodie, "Stiles, here. I forgot to give this back to you last night."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Stiles took the hoodie from her outstretched hands, obviously still disgruntled from the sudden siege of his lunch table.

Danny wiggled his eyebrows at Celeste, and Celeste threw a grape at Danny's head.

"Get up," Jackson abrasively demanded of David, an especially perverted first string lacrosse player.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" the curly haired boy whined obnoxiously, but moved nonetheless.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot," Danny quipped, causing Celeste to laugh and fist bump him.

"So I hear they're saying it was some type of animal attack," Danny attempted to make conversation, "probably a cougar?"

"I heard mountain lion," Jackson leaned back in his seat arrogantly, and Celeste rolled her eyes at his blatant stupidity.

"A cougar is a mountain lion," Lydia snapped, and Celeste perked up at the sound of Lydia's intelligence shining through the curtain of stupidity she put up, "isn't it?"

Celeste rolled her eyes as Lydia once again played dumb to boost the ego of her boyfriend. She was honestly starting to kind of like Jackson as a person, but their relationship was ridiculously unhealthy, especially for Lydia.

"Who cares?" Jackson spoke brashly, obviously miffed about being corrected, "The guy was probably some homeless tweaker who was gonna die anyway."

"We're all going to die eventually, Jackass," Celeste looked at him ominously, "and in death's eyes we are all truly equal. Your excessive amounts of hair gel and shiny Porsche will mean nothing. It's your worst nightmare. Relating to poor people."

"Actually I just found out who it is," Stiles interrupted Jackson's glare fest in an amused tone, "check it out."

He held his smartphone out for everyone to see. It visualized that the victim was named Garrison Myers, and he was in critical condition.

Celeste frowned in concern, hoping for the poor man's sake, and Scott's, that he recovered safely.

"I know this guy," Scott frowned, "when I used to take the bus back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver."

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun please?" Lydia twirled her fork around as she spoke, "Like where we're going tomorrow night."

Allison and Scott balked at Lydia in confusion.

"You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?" Lydia confirmed, looking at Allison pointedly.

"Uh," Allison swallowed nervously, "we were thinking about what we were going to do."

"Well," Lydia huffed out, "I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the five of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun."

"Five?" Jackson echoed.

"Yes, five," Lydia said with finality, "Celeste is coming too, obviously."

Celeste looked up from where she was poking her Jell-O.

"What?" she asked confusedly.

"It'll be fun," Lydia insisted, "You can bring Noah."

"Who the hell is Noah?" Celeste questioned, earning a snort from Stiles next to her.

"Uh, I'm Noah," a blonde kid raised his hand grimly, "we met over the summer? You told me that gender roles were a fascist concept enforced by outdated stereotypes, made a Back to the Future reference, and then left."

"Oh," Celeste winced awkwardly, Stiles and Danny both snickering beside her, "sorry. I can't anyways. I promised Isaac I'd study with him."

"Isaac Lahey?" Lydia asked calculatingly, "From the lacrosse team?"

Celeste nodded tentatively, hoping Lydia wouldn't freak out at the rejection.

"I approve," Lydia nodded once before turning away, much to Celeste's relief.

"Isaac?" Stiles asked Celeste with a peculiar frown, "Why are you hanging out with Isaac?"

"He needs help with biology," Celeste shrugged passively, "Why? Do you need help too? You can come with us, I'm sure Isaac wouldn't care."

"What?" Stiles scoffed, "I don't need help in biology. I'm not an idiot."

"Well that was unnecessary," Celeste's face fell and she turned back to join the group conversation.

She felt disappointment at Stiles' words, as he had seemed like such a genuine, good guy. She was confused with his sudden change in personality.

Stiles sighed out beside her.

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson was saying sardonically, picking up Lydia's salad fork, "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork."

"I would actually pay you to see that," Celeste snorted, only half joking.

"I don't need your filthy middle class money," Jackson jabbed the fork at her, his eyes sparkling with challenge.

"How about bowling?" Lydia grabbed the fork from him and forcefully changed the subject, "You love to bowl."

"Yeah, with actual competition," Jackson brushed her off crassly.

"How do you know we're not actual completion?" Allison taunted playfully, but with undertones of dauntlessness, "You can bowl, right?"

Scott looked like he had just remembered the existence of Donald Trump.

"Sort of," he mumbled, which Celeste took as a resounding 'no'.

"Is it sort of?" Jackson challenged dramatically, "Or yes?"

"Yes," Scott narrowed his eyes at Jackson, and Stiles tensed up beside Celeste, "in fact, I'm a great bowler."

  ☾ ☽  

The bell chimed softly, greeting Celeste jovially as she pulled open the door to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic.

She had needed a job to save up for a new lens for her camera, and decided to interview for a veterinary assistant position due to her intense adoration for animals.

She had gotten a call back just yesterday, a kind man with a soothing voice by the name of Dr. Deaton informing her that she had qualified, and asked if she could start the following day.

"Hello?" she called out, apprehensive to just walk behind the counter.

"Celeste," Dr. Deaton appeared, a pleasant smile on his face, "you're right on time. Come on back."

"Thank you again for hiring me," she made conversation, "I really enjoy working with animals."

"No thanks necessary," he replied amiably, "it was your love of animals that made me choose you."

"Yeah," Celeste agreed as they made their way through the clinic, "I just think animals should be rewarded for not being people."

"My other assistant can show you the ropes," Deaton chuckled, "but he doesn't seem to have arrived yet. For now, would you mind unpacking those medical supplies?"

Celeste nodded eagerly, turning to an opened box of medical necessities, slowly removing each item.

"M'sorry," a stressed looking Scott McCall banged through the door, almost causing Celeste to drop a bottle of Hydrogen Peroxide, "sorry."

He placed his bag in the corner, having yet to notice Celeste hovering by the table.

"You're all of two minutes late," Deaton said in amusement, and Celeste remembered suddenly that Scott was the other assistant.

"I just don't want you to think I'm slacking," Scott insisted.

"Scott," Deaton said idly, "I guarantee you you're one of the least slacking kids in this town."

Scott smiled, before finally noticing Celeste.

"Celeste?" he furrowed his brows in confusion, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm the new vet assistant," she smiled easily, "I forgot you worked here."

"Cool," Scott grinned, but his look soon turned to one of trepidation as his eyes trailed to the door.

Celeste followed his gaze, swallowing nervously when she noticed Sheriff Stilinski just outside.

She and Scott exchanged nervous looks, but relaxed when he opened the door with an adorable looking German Sheppard trailing happily behind him.

"Hey," Deaton cooed, "I see somebody is ready to get their stitches out."

"Hey there Scott, Celeste," the sheriff grinned while removing his sunglasses, "you staying out of trouble?"

"Yeah," Scott muttered dumbly while Celeste let out a nervous laugh.

"Hey, listen," the sheriff addressed Deaton like the fairy from Zelda, "while I'm here, you mind taking a look at those pictures I was telling you about? Sacramento still can't determine an animal."

"I'm not exactly an expert," Deaton said humbly, but he took the evidence folder anyways.

"This is the guy who was attacked on the bus?" Deaton asked.

Celeste and Scott looked at each other with widened eyes, their ears perking up with interest.

"Yeah," the sheriff confirmed, "and we found wolf hairs on Laura Hale's body."

Oops.

"A wolf?" Scott blurted, "Uh, I mean, I think I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for like sixty years."

"True enough," Deaton confirmed, "but wolves are highly migratory. They could have wandered in from another state driven by impulse or strong enough memory."

"Wolves have memories?" Scott questioned.

"Long term memories," Celeste inputted shyly, "but only when associated with a primal drive."

"Very good Celeste," Deaton said, his eyes shining with approval.

Celeste finger gunned at him.

"See this here?" Deaton focused back on the sheriff, "Those are claw marks. A wolf would have gone for the throat and the spinal cord with its teeth."

"So what do you think?" Sheriff Stilinski frowned seriously, "Is it a mountain lion?"

"I don't know," Deaton shook his head, "a wolf could chase down its prey, hobbling it by tearing at the ankles, and then the throat."

Scott tensed up, and Celeste grimaced. Could the same logic apply to werewolves, too?

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Hello everyone!! I am just going to keep updating until my writing kick ends, which I hope it won't. So far I'm powering through.

I made a Parks & Rec reference, if you didn't notice. I am April trash.

QUESTION: What is your favorite type of bread?

Ok that's actually it I hope you're all doing well!

Stay Hydrated,

-Belle xx