I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did I would seriously give Lydia every single fight scene bc mom.

Song - Arcadia // The Kite String Tangle

Celeste's POV

"Who are you texting that can put a smile on your face at this hour?" Allison nudged her friend in the crowded school hallway, in reference to the unusual expression of early morning happiness on her friend's face, which was glued to her phone.

"Stay in your lane, Argent," Celeste warned playfully, quickly pocketing her cellular device in a way that could have been perceived as shady.

In all honesty, she had been texting Derek. They were in the midst of working out a time for her to come by the Hale estate to begin her self-defense training, and Celeste couldn't help but smile at her gloomiest friend's meticulous use of proper punctuation and capitalization in each message.

She had only just taught him how to text, and he had nearly smashed is phone when she tried to explain the concept of 'LOL' to him.

She didn't even want to imagine the outcome of when she got into the connotations behind the direction of smiley faces.

"Is it Stiles?" Allison ignored her heeding, "You only get this defensive when it's about Stiles."

"Shut up," Celeste glared at her friend with heated cheeks, "and no. He's more of my teacher, I guess."

"Woah," Allison raised a brow, "don't you dare go Ezria on me. That stuff only works in TV shows."

"How do you know we aren't in a TV show right now?" Celeste countered ominously.

"You're ridiculous sometimes," Allison snorted as the two reached the taller girl's locker.

Celeste cringed as Allison opened her locker and a plethora of pastel balloons bombarded her friend's face.

"I told Lydia balloons were overboard," Celeste grumbled as she took in Allison's disgruntled features, "sorry."

"No," Allison assured with a sigh, "this was really sweet, thank you. I just didn't really want to make my birthday public."

"Why not?" Celeste frowned, grabbing a light pink balloon from her locker, "Also, I'm taking this."

"Because I'm kind of turning seventeen," Allison shrugged with a wince.

"Oh, because of all the moving around?" Celeste nodded, "I would have had to do the same thing if I hadn't skipped a grade."

"Wow," Allison blinked, her gaze grateful "thank you for being the first person not to assume I had a baby or something."

"Did you have a baby?" Celeste asked with raised brows.

"Shut up," Allison rolled her eyes with a lighthearted laugh.

"Watch your language," Celeste teased as she rummaged through her bag, "or I won't give you your present."

"Okay," Allison brightened, "shutting up now."

Celeste pulled out a small, brown gift box and sheepishly passed it to a very excited Allison.

"I didn't have time to wrap it," she muttered nervously, "I was a bit, uh, preoccupied."

The taller girl emitted a small gasp, adorable dimples lighting up her face as she opened the box to reveal a soft, delicate looking leather bracelet.

 The material itself was braided, and intertwined between the loops of brown leather was a line of silver peeking out. The clasp was a crescent moon carved from the same silver as that of the kind woven into the bracelet.

"I, uh, I have the same one," Celeste explained nervously, "I got them because, you know, silver for Argent and a moon for Lune. They're friendship bracelets, I guess? Sorry, this was dumb. I can get you a gift card to Big Belly Burger or something if-,"

Celeste's rambling was cut off as Allison wrapped her arms excitedly around her.

"Stop," Allison grinned, "It's perfect. Thank you."

"No problem, Roblem," Celeste finger gunned as her friend released her.

Celeste saw Scott obsessively fixing his hair in the mirror of a seriously weirded out looking girl's opened locker and sighed.

"Alas, my Spidey senses are tingling," Celeste placed a finger against her temple dramatically, "and they are telling me that a love struck, oversized man-puppy is approaching. I am afraid I must make an escape before I drown in a disgustingly adorable hormone fest. Farewell, my dear Allison."

Allison immediately squeaked and went to fix her hair in her own locker mirror at the mention of Scott.

"Ah, kids," Celeste sighed, clutching her new balloon friend to her chest as she ambled away.

Her thoughts of what to name her new, inflated companion were deterred as she spotted a familiar mess of sandy blonde curls bobbing through the school hallway a little ahead of her.

"Hey, Lahey," she called softly, scurrying up next to him.

"Oh," Isaac jumped before his blue eyes widened and he straightened, "h-hey Celeste."

"So," Celeste fell into step with him as they made their way to Harris' classroom, "how is my blondest friend doing?"

"M'fine," Isaac mumbled with a shrug, "uh, why are you holding a balloon?"

"His name is Aiden," Celeste narrowed her eyes playfully, "and he may be a bit of an airhead, but he still has feelings."

"Sorry," Isaac laughed, "but, why Aiden?"

"He's named after some guy I used to know," Celeste shrugged casually, not noticing the way Isaac stiffened.

"This guy, Aiden," he cleared his throat, "he reminded you of a balloon?"

"His ego was inflated enough," Celeste laughed, and Isaac smiled at the sound.

Isaac held the door to the classroom open as they reached it, and Celeste smiled in thanks as she ducked past him.

Celeste spotted Stiles and grinned, waving at him animatedly.

He was too busy glowering at some unknown force behind her to reciprocate.

"Well alright, Mr. Grumpy Pants," Celeste muttered as she and Isaac took their respective seats.

"Celeste" the girl jumped as Harris' voice boomed right by her ear, "I just wanted to let you know that if you need to leave for any reason, I'll understand."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Celeste muttered in confusion at Harris' retreating form.

"What was that about?" Isaac leaned towards her curiously.

"I guess he understands the struggle of balancing my life as a high school student and an undercover secret agent."

Isaac snorted in amusement, but furrowed his brows together like he was going to inquire further.

"Do you have a Sharpie?" Celeste asked, in hoped of inhibiting his inquires.

"Oh, uh, yeah," Isaac fished around in his bag for a moment before retrieving a black Sharpie and handing it to her, "here. Why?"

"Thanks," Celeste grinned, uncapping the marker, "Aiden needs a face."

She shaded in big, rounded eyes and a curved mouth on the air filled balloon.

"Wait," Isaac laughed, "he needs eyebrows."

He took the black writing utensil from her, using it to draw comically arched lines over the eyes of the balloon.

Celeste was laughing when a ball of crumpled paper was pelted at the back of her head.

She whipped around, her eyes narrowing in on a very determined looking Stiles Stilinski.

"Oh my god," Celeste groaned obnoxiously at him, "what?"

"Uh," Stiles stuttered, as though he didn't actually have anything to say, "what, uh, what's your favorite color?"

"Black," Celeste blinked in confusion.

"Oh," Stiles nodded feverishly, "yeah, that's cool."

"Was that all?" She asked dryly.

"Uh, I guess so, yeah," Stiles mumbled, and Celeste turned back around in her seat because her neck was getting tired.

"You know he's like, in love with you, right?" Isaac raised an eyebrow cynically.

"What?" Celeste began coughing spontaneously, "No, no way. I wish people would stop saying that. There is no way Stiles likes me"

"So why is he glaring at me like I'm the spawn of Satan just for talking to you?"

Celeste spun her head around, and sure enough, Stiles was scowling in Isaac's direction like he had invented the concept of Meninism.

Once he noticed her noticing him, he busied himself highlighting through his textbook.

Celeste frowned pensively as she turned around to focus on the relentlessly annoying sound of Harris' voice.

"Just a friendly reminder, parent-teacher conferences are tonight," he droned, and many students cringed, Isaac being one of them, "Students below a 'C' average are required to attend. I won't name you because the shame and self-disgust should be more than enough punishment."

Celeste glared at the insinuation that grades were the deciding factor in how you should value yourself.

"Has anyone seen Scott McCall?" Harris asked directly after, obviously calling him out.

Celeste wanted to flick him on the nose.

However, professor Zurg did raise an interesting question. Celeste couldn't help but worry about Scott's whereabouts, even though he was probably off somewhere with Allison. It always had something to do with Allison.

Stiles blinked in confusion as Harris glared pointedly down at him, the cap of his highlighter held between his lips as he inked every line of his textbook yellow.

The cyborg's attention was focused elsewhere as a broodier than usual Jackson Whittemore barged into the classroom.

The teen made eye contact with Celeste, nodding once at her, to which she gave him a small, empathetic smile-grimace.

He ambled his way down the rows to his seat, and Harris put his hand creepily on Jackson's shoulder and leaned in to repeat the little speech he had given Celeste.

"Everyone, start reading chapter nine," Harris returned to his usual stiff demeanor as he walked to the front of the room before pausing, "Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's chemistry, not a coloring book."

Stiles blew the cap out of his mouth and caught it, looking surprised at his own small victory. He glanced at Celeste to see if she had noticed.

Celeste, however, was too busy explaining the text patiently to Isaac.

"Sorry for being the world's biggest idiot," Isaac mumbled when she had to go over a concept twice.

"Since when were you Donald Trump?" Celeste nudged him amicably, "You're not an idiot. Stop calling yourself that, dumbass."

"Your words seem slightly counterproductive," Isaac chuckled at her.

Celeste was about to respond that his existence seemed counterproductive, when she heard the words "Do you find me attractive?" followed by a loud crash as Stiles fell out of his chair.

"Dammit Stilinski," Celeste couldn't stop the grin that appeared in her face.

☾ ☽

"Finally," Stiles shouted into his phone beside Celeste, causing the girl to jump, "have you been getting all my texts?"

Celeste perked up, presuming that Stiles had finally gotten ahold of their missing bipedal wolf pal, reaching up and tugging Stiles to a crouch beside her so she could press her ear into the phone next to him.

"Yeah, like all nine million of them," Scott hyperbolized down the line.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Stiles demanded of him, "Lydia's totally M.I.A, Jackson looks like he's got a time bomb inserted into his face, Celeste's height problem is giving me a leg cramp, another random guy is dead, and you have to do something about it."

"Like what?" Scott sounded tired.

"Something," Stiles elaborated poorly, rubbing the back of his head where Celeste has whacked it due to his comment.

"Actually," Celeste piped up, "Lydia is at home. She's taking a day off for the trauma. Honestly, I don't know why you wouldn't just ask me about it."

"Oh," Stiles blinked, "well alright."

"Okay, I'll deal with it later," Scott grumbled before promptly hanging up.

"Rude," Celeste huffed, and Stiles stretched his legs out dramatically as he drew himself back up to his full height.

"Seriously," Stiles cried exaggeratedly, "your shortness is becoming a bit of an issue."

"The only issue here is your attitude," Celeste shot back.

Stiles scoffed, but his look quickly changed to one of concern when Celeste grabbed the back of her neck suddenly.

Searing pain shot through the girl in three separate places on the back of her neck, and she had to bite into her lip almost to the point of drawing blood to keep from crying out.

Furthermore, her body shook with ice cold fear, terror that was not her own.

"Woah, hey," Stiles soothed as she grabbed onto him in panic, "How can I help? What's happening?"

"Sorry," Celeste shook her head primitively as the foreign emotions dissipated, "I'm, uh, nursing a hangover."

"You don't drink," Stiles raised a brow suspiciously.

"Ice cream hangover," Celeste corrected herself weakly, "Anyways, we should go to Lydia's after school. Find out what she knows."

"What?" Stiles didn't look convinced, but thankfully dropped the subject, "You want me to go where?"

"Yes, I want you to go to the almighty Lydia Martin's house," Celeste rolled her eyes, "Try to contain your excitement, you nerd."

"Wh- I'm not- I'm cool," Stiles brushed a thumb against his nose in attempt to seem relaxed, "I'm totally cool. Ice cold. No nerds here. Nope."

"I'm gonna be late for math," Celeste averted, trying to ignore her feelings about how much Stiles obviously still cared about Lydia.

☾ ☽

"Don't do that," Celeste hissed at Stiles.

"What?" Stiles asked from where he was awkwardly leaning with one arm on the doorframe faux-casually, "I'm acting natural."

"You look like Lurch from The Addams Family."

"Shut up," Stiles glared at her, "You look like Wednesday. Like, all the time."

"Thank you," Celeste said seriously.

Their bickering was interrupted as Ms. Martin opened the door to the two.

"Celeste," the woman pulled the dark haired girl in for a hug, "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks," Celeste smiled softly as she was released, "Stiles and I just came by to see how Lydia was doing."

"Oh," the mother gaped, placing a hand against her heart, "you're too sweet. And after everything you've been through, too. Come on in."

"Thanks," the paired crossed the threshold, Stiles doing so with an air of crossing over to Narnia for the first time.

"Do you kids want anything?" Lydia's mom was the perfect hostess, "I just made some lemonade."

"We're okay," Celeste answered for herself and a still speechless Stiles as the woman led them up the stairs and to Lydia's bedroom door, "Thank you, though."

"Honey," Lydia's mom opened the door to reveal a sprawled out Lydia Martin in a very open negligee, "Celeste came to see you with a Stiles."

"What the hell is a Stiles?" Lydia muttered without even turning to face them.

"She took a little something to ease her nerves," Ms. Martin laughed a little, "You can go in."

"Thanks," Stiles blurted loudly, speaking for the first time.

"Celeste," Lydia giggled bubbly, "I missed you."

"Hey Lyds," Celeste laughed at how utterly relaxed and un-Lydia-ish her friend was being due to the medication.

Lydia squealed as Celeste came and sat next to her on the bed, attacking her in a hug and laughing.

"What are you doing here?" Lydia turned to survey Stiles, placing a hand on her hip deductively as she noticed him for the first time.

"We were just making sure you were okay," Stiles fidgeted awkwardly, his eyes darting between the two girls.

"Why?" Lydia smacked her lips, not even glancing at Celeste as she patted her bed for Stiles to sit.

Celeste gulped nervously. Lydia got flirty when her inhibitions were blurred

"Uh," Stiles hesitantly scrambled to sit next to the strawberry blonde, "because we were worried about you today. How are you feeling?"

"I feel," Lydia spoke, rubbing her hand down his arm and getting all up in Stiles' business, "fantastic."

"Woah," Stiles gulped, looking quickly at Celeste before grabbing the bottle of pills on Lydia's nightstand, "I bet you can't say 'I saw Suzy sitting in a shoeshine shop' ten times fast."

Lydia narrowed her hazel eyes at him, and they sparkled at the sound of a challenge.

"I saw shuzy-," Lydia stopped herself, before pressing on, "I shaw-."

Stiles placed the bottle back on the table, and Celeste noticed Lydia tense up.

"I saw," Lydia muttered before her arms collapsed underneath her.

"What?" Stiles asked as Celeste grabbed Lydia's hand in concern, "Lydia, what did you see?"

"Something," Lydia muttered ominously.

"Something like," Stiles leaned forward, "a mountain lion?"

"A mountain lion," Lydia agreed, but it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

"Are you sure you saw a mountain lion?" Stiles pressed and Celeste squeezed her friend's hand encouragingly, "Or are you just saying that because that's what the police told you?"

"A mountain lion," She repeated, and Celeste frowned as Stiles reached for the plush giraffe – secretly named Binkie – resting next to the pill bottle on the end table.

"What's this?" He tested, presenting the stuffed animal to her.

"A mountain lion," she nodded, eliciting a titter from Celeste.

"Okay," Stiles nodded, replacing it, "you're so drunk."

Lydia responded by grabbing on to his thigh and falling headfirst into Stiles' lap.

"Holy god," Stiles jumped off the bed, "Oh my god."

"Down boy," Celeste joked, but she had to use the sleeve of her sweater to hide her frown.

"Well, I'm gonna go," Stiles grabbed on to Celeste and pulled her up with him, "Uh, we'll let you get back to the whole post-traumatic stress thing."

"Stay," Lydia called as they headed out the door, causing both Celeste and Stiles to freeze.

"Me stay?" Stiles pointed to himself, "You want me to stay?"

Lydia nodded suggestively, and Celeste wanted to curl up in a ball and die for a reason unbeknownst to her.

"I, uh, sorry," Stiles looked at Celeste chastely, "I can't."

Celeste didn't know why that filled her heart with butterflies.

She smiled to herself, but frowned again as Lydia collapsed on the bed face first.

As Celeste checked to make sure her friend still had a pulse, Lydia's phone went off.

"You want me to get that?" Stiles drawled out sarcastically, picking up the device.

"Oh my god Stiles you can't just go through people's phones," Celeste hissed, but shut up when she saw the shocked look on the male's face.

"What?" She frowned at him as he silently thrust the phone at her.

Celeste's breath caught in her throat at the sight of the Alpha's menacing face filling the small screen.

☾ ☽

"What do we do with it?" Stiles groaned, looking down at Lydia's phone like it was an activated IED or something.

"Stiles, when in our time of knowing each other have I ever shown the capability of making difficult decisions?" Celeste retorted from her position on Stiles' duvet.

The two were currently presiding in Stiles' room, a location that did not go unnoticed by Celeste's haywire mind. However, they currently had bigger fish to fry. Metaphorically, of course. There was no actual frying of fish happening.

Stiles let out a guttural groan, stomping his foot childishly and redialing Scott.

"He's not going to answer, dude," Celeste chastised, "He's probably off somewhere woohooing with Allison."

"Stop making obscure Sims references, you dork," Stiles looked like his eyes were about to bulge out of his head as he was once again sent to voicemail.

"Hey, it's me again," Stiles sounded almost resigned, "look, Celeste and I found something and we don't know what to do, okay? So if you could turn your phone on, right now, that'd be great."

"Threaten him," Celeste suggested helpfully.

"Or- or else I'll kill you, you understand me?" Stiles earned a thumbs up from Celeste, "I'm gonna kill you. And I'm too upset to come up with a witty description of how exactly I'm going to kill you but I'm just gonna do it, okay?"

Stiles made an annoyed noise into the phone before hanging up and chucking it next to Celeste on the bed.

Celeste let herself fall backwards as Stiles buried his head in his arms from his seat in his spinny chair.

They both shot up and made noises of surprise as Stiles' door opened.

"Oh," Sheriff Stilinski vocalized his surprise at seeing Celeste in his son's bedroom, "hello there."

"Hello Mr. Stilinski," Celeste waved awkwardly, "nice to see you again."

"You too," he smiled at her warily, "What, uh, what were you kids doing up here?"

"Homework," Celeste replied at the same time Stiles said 'playing Uno'.

"Really?" Celeste hissed at him.

"I don't even want to know," the sheriff sighed, "Just tell me you weren't, uh, doing anything, um, inappropriate."

"Ew," Celeste blushed profusely, "sorry Mr. Stilinski, but that's so gross. There is no way that would ever happen."

"Never?" Stiles echoed, sounding dejected.

"Stiles," both Celeste and Mr. Stilinski shouted at the boy.

"Well, Celeste," the older man sighed, "I would advise you to get better friends."

"Oh my god, dad," Stiles glared, "What do you want?"

"Please tell me I'm gonna hear good news at this parent-teacher thing tonight," he sighed out, with one more glance in Celeste's direction.

"Depends on how you define good news," Stiles hesitated.

"I define it as straight 'A's with no behavioral issues" he spoke hopefully, causing Celeste to snort.

"Might wanna rethink that definition," Stiles nodded.

"Enough said," Stiles' father sighed, "Oh, and this stays open."

"Dad," Stiles yelled as Celeste's cheeks burned bright at the Sheriff's insinuation.

He only chuckled before walking away.

"C'mon Scott," Stiles tapped his foot on the ground, obviously embarrassed, "Where the hell are you?"

"Just delete it," Celeste spoke with finality.

"What?" Stiles looked at her in surprise, "You really think we should?"

"Yeah," Celeste said after a while, biting her lip, a bundle of nerves, "Lydia doesn't need this. Any of it."

Stiles hesitated, but deleted the photo, and therefore shielded Lydia Martin from the world of the supernatural.

Everything was silent for a moment, and then, as if she were pushed, Celeste buckled onto the floor in a twitching mess.

She felt as though someone had replaced all of the veins in her body with lightning. Electricity consumed her, and left her a convulsing heap on the ground.

Stiles rushed over, grabbing on to the shaking girl and trying to hold her still, tears nearly coming to his eyes at her state.

Then it was gone. Celeste felt nothing besides a dark, deep abyss of confusion melding together in her very core.

"Celeste," Stiles voice shook tremulously, "what the hell just happened?"

Celeste, the girl thought to herself as she looked into Stiles' horrified honey eyes, you've got some splainin' to do.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Oh fiddlesticks. Stiles knows. Sort of.

Seriously I have nothing to say. This is awkward.

Okie dokie just have a safe and lovely day and remember to stay hydrated.

Love always,

-Belle xx