I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did I would put Celeste in the show bc I've started to fall in love with her I think.

Song - Teeth // The Japanese House

Celeste's POV

"This is a terrible idea. I love it."

Stiles grinned excitedly at Celeste's words as the two huddled together, around the corner from Coach Finstock's office.

Stiles' presumed response was cut off by a loud, obnoxiously shrill whistle sounding from across the hall.

"Looking good, Celeste," Jerome, a fiery red headed lacrosse player, shouted in reference to the aforementioned girl's outfit, which consisted of a thin olive green top tucked neatly into a short black skater skirt and tights featuring lacey moons etched into black fabric.

"I bite my thumb at you, sir," Celeste hissed back, obviously miffed by the presence of the plague known as catcalling being present in her midst.

"I swear to god if we get caught because of that prokaryote- whoa, you okay?"

Celeste stopped her threat midsentence at the sight of a very pissed off looking Stiles, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched with white-knuckled fists.

He was too busy crazy psycho murdering Jerome with his withering gaze to notice Celeste's confusion, until she placed a gentle hand on his clenched fist.

"Stiles, do you copy?" Celeste asked, alarmed by his sudden mood change.

"Yeah, course," Stiles relaxed at her touch, "I just don't think it's respectful to catcall people. It's a pathetic cry for attention."

"Hey, you're preaching to the choir," Celeste smiled at him, pleasantly surprise at his concern, "Or, well, figuratively, of course. I'm not actually a choir. That would be weird."

Stiles only nodded, dismissing her ramblings as typical Celeste behavior. They both perked up as Finstock let his office, talking to himself about cupcakes or something.

"It's go time," Stiles spoke, and the two fist bumped before darting out from behind the wall.

They strode casually and confidently to the door, Celeste secretly playing Mission Impossible music in her head. Everything was going fantastically until Stiles turned the door handle.

It was locked.

"I did not account for this setback," Stiles muttered as the hallway cleared of people, everyone heading to their classes.

Celeste's eyes flitted around, looking for possible witnesses. When she found none, she turned to her friend with determination.

"Cover me," she told Stiles.

"Wh- oh my god, what are you doing?" Stiles hissed as Celeste dropped on her knees before the door.

"Selling my left kidney on the black market, what the hell's it look like I'm doing?" Celeste drawled out sarcastically as she daintily removed a bobby pin from her carelessly pinned back tress of hair, causing the tendrils to fall in her face haphazardly, "Just cover me."

Stiles scrambled to shield her view as Celeste carefully unbent the bobby pin, inserted it gently into the hold of the door knob, and began fiddling.

Stiles scoff as the absurd nature of the situation, but thirty seconds later, a light click was heard and Celeste pushed the door open with ease.

"What?" Celeste accepted Stiles' hand and stood up, brushing off her tight clad knees and grinning at his gaping expression, "I know things."

"You are the most mystifying being to have ever graced my presence."

☾ ☽

"Okay," Stiles spoke as he walked with Scott and Celeste out to the bleachers.

He plopped himself and his black-and-yellow lacrosse bag onto the cold metal bench on the outskirts of the lacrosse field, Celeste following his lead and Scott standing in front of them like an attentive puppy dog.

"Now," Stiles rummaged through his bag and pulled out a black device on a strap, "put this on."

"Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" Scott asked as he took it.

Celeste wrinkled her nose distastefully at the thought of running.

"Yeah, I borrowed it," Stiles claimed, causing Celeste to let out a scoff.

"Stole it?" Scott corrected him skeptically.

"Temporarily misappropriated," Stiles looked at him, his eyes set.

"Yeah, we stole it," Celeste nodded.

"Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs," Stiles nudged Celeste gently, "You're gonna wear it for the rest of the day."

"Isn't that Coach's phone?" Scott pointed to the cellular device clutched in Celeste's freezing hands.

"That, we stole," Stiles nodded in affirmation.

"Why?" Scott 'confused' McCall asked.

"Alright, well your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right?" Stiles elaborated, "When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning how to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate."

"Like the Incredible Hulk?" Scott grinned in excitement.

"Yeah," Celeste spoke up, "except instead of gamma radiation, you have a murderous bipedal wolf beast to blame."

"Kind of like the Incredible Hulk," Stiles agreed reluctantly.

"No, I'm like the Incredible Hulk," Scott grinned and high-fived Celeste.

"Would you shut up and put the strap on?" Stiles was having none of it.

Scott nodded and began fumbling with the heart monitor.

"Celeste?" Stiles called out once Scott was situated, "Would you like to do the honors?"

"My pleasure," Celeste painted an evil grin across her face and held up a silver roll of duct tape.

Scott visibly gulped.

The wolf allowed himself to be led on the field, where Celeste gently wrapped a few layers of tape around his wrists, his arms now bound behind his back.

"This isn't exactly how I wanted to spend my free period," Scott grumbled as Celeste struggled to rip the tape off of the roll.

"Alright," Stiles ripped the duct tape for her and then the two stepped a couple yards away from Scott, "ready?"

"No."

"Remember," Stiles called as he plopped his lacrosse gear on to the dew drop glazed field and Celeste pulled up the heart monitor app, "don't get angry."

"I'm starting to think this was a really bad idea," Scott said nervously.

"So is eating an entire pizza in one sitting," Celeste shrugged, "but it's still fun."

Stiles chose this moment to lob a lacrosse ball at Scott's abdomen.

The flannel enthusiast giggled maniacally as Scott's heart rate amped up to 115.

"Okay, that one hurt," Scott groaned as a ball hit his collarbone.

"Quiet," Stiles ordered, "remember, you're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, alright? About staying calm."

"Stay calm," Scott muttered to himself, "staying calm. Staying totally calm. No balls flying at my face."

"So many innuendos, so little time," Celeste whispered to herself.

"You wanna try?" Stiles offered, looking towards Celeste.

"Hell yeah I wanna try," Celeste perked up, "I mean, I guess so. Sorry Scott."

Scott only groaned in response.

"Here," Stiles handed her the stick.

Celeste took a deep breath, scooping the ball into the net like she had observed Stiles doing, and flung the stick forward with all her strength.

It made it two feet.

"Oh," Celeste mumbled, and Stiles let out a laugh, his breath condensing in the cool air.

"You have to hold it like this," Stiles gently put his arms over hers from behind to correct her stance, and Celeste was fairly certain she was having a mini stroke.

"Uh, okay," Celeste mumbled nervously, and Stiles jumped back when he realized their positioning.

"Uh, you, uh," Stiles cleared his throat and squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds too long to be considered a blink, "you have to keep your left leg kind of bent in front of your right to get the proper velocity."

"Right," Celeste absorbed his directions, placing herself appropriately according to his instructions.

She steadied her grip and threw the ball.

This time it hit Scott right in the dinkey doo.

"Oh," Stiles pressed a hand over his mouth as Scott fell to the ground in a groaning heap, "Celeste, you savage."

"Oh my god," Celeste dropped the stick in shock, wanting to run over and help her friend but knowing it was dangerous, "I'm so sorry Scotty. I was aiming for your chest."

Stiles kept throwing the balls with his stick, but Celeste stuck to using her hands to toss them from then on.

"Son of a bitch," Scott freaked as a ball hit his thigh.

"You know what?" Stiles taunted, cradling a ball in his net, "I think my aim is actually improving."

"Wonder why," Scott snapped, and Celeste frowned as his pulse hit 180.

"Uh uh uh," Stiles tutted, "don't get angry."

Celeste was smiling in amusement, but her expression changed quickly as she spotted Beacon Hills' resident Jackass lurking behind the bleachers.

She frowned, jogging over to him with suspicious eyes.

"Jackson," Celeste chirped, attempting to be casual, "what brings you out here on this fine winter morning?"

"What the hell are you guys doing?" Jackson cackled as Stiles whacked Scott in the side of the head.

"Oh, you know," Celeste lied easily, "Scott lost a bet. He thought he could eat more pizza rolls than me. Don't worry though, I put him in his place."

Jackson nodded, accepting her answer because, truly, Celeste could eat a lot of pizza rolls.

"God," Jackson laughed as Stiles did a little jig after hitting Scott in the chest, "why do you hang out with those idiots?"

Celeste was about to flick him on the nose when she was sidetracked by the sight of Scott doubling over on the field.

He wasn't getting up.

Stiles looked over at her in panic, and she turned back to Jackson shakily.

"Hey, I think Lydia was looking for you," Celeste improvised, and Jackson paled, completely forgetting about the wonder twins at the thought of Lydia's wrath.

"Shit, okay," Jackson cringed, "I better go find her, bye."

Celeste smiled until he was out of sight, and then made her way back to her friends.

"I can't be around Allison," Scott was saying mournfully.

"What?" Stiles waved his arms around, "Just because she makes you happy?"

"Because she makes me weak."

☾ ☽

"Let's go," Coach Finstock grumbled in a loud voice as students filled the classroom, "sit, sit, sit, sit. We've got a lot to cover today. Let's go. Quicker."

Stiles ushered Celeste along to their consecutive seats by placing a hand gently upon the small of her back, a habit he had come to acquire due to Celeste's tendency to dawdle.

"Stiles," Scott hissed as Allison walked into the room, "sit behind me."

Stiles quickly tried to scramble over the desks to sit behind his ailing friend, but Allison swooped in like a silent assassin.

Celeste rolled her eyes and sat down in her seat in front of Stiles. She thought Scott's logic was totally skewed.

She didn't understand why having a grounding force in his life was such an appalling idea, especially since without her he wolfed out every two seconds. The girl had made her thoughts known, but Scott was insistent on letting himself drown in a sea of self-pity.

"One day I'm going to go dark side on all of you," Celeste muttered to herself, "and then you will see."

"Hey," Allison said sweetly to Scott, and Celeste felt a pang of sympathy in her chest for the clueless girl.

"Hey," Scott muttered nervously.

"I haven't seen you all day," Allison spoke with a flirty pout.

"Yeah, I've been, uh," Scott lied waveringly, "super busy."

"When are you getting your phone fixed?" Allison tried, "I feel like I'm totally disconnected from you."

"Uh, soon," Scott bobbed his head up and down, "real soon."

"I changed lab partners, by the way," Allison looked proud of herself.

Celeste wanted to throw up with anxiety as the situation played out.

"Oh," Scott blinked, "to who?"

"The Pope, obviously," Celeste said caustically, causing Stiles to shush her.

"To you, dummy," Allison giggled at Celeste's comment.

"Me? Wh-," Scott cut himself off with a sigh, "I mean, are you sure?"

"Yeah," Allison looked at him oddly, "this way I have an excuse to bring you home and study."

"Oh," Scott looked like he was about to cry.

"You don't mind, do you?" Allison suddenly looked insecure.

"I just," Scott searched for an excuse, "I don't wanna bring your grade down."

"Well, maybe I can bring your grade up?" Allison's adorable optimism earned her eyes rolls from both Celeste and Stiles, Beacon Hills' resident cynics, "Come to my place tonight? 8:30?"

"This is a disaster," Celeste quoted Esteban Julio Ricardo Montoya De La Rosa Ramirez under her breath, and Stiles nodded his agreement.

"Tonight?" Scott looked horrified.

"8:30," Allison confirmed with a nod.

Celeste jumped as Coach slammed a textbook down on his cluttered desk.

"Let's settle down," he barked, even though almost no one was talking, "Let's start with a quick summary of last night's reading."

A slew of hands hit the air, not including Celeste and her friends.

"Greenburg, put your hand down," Coach looked disgusted, "everybody knows you did the reading."

"How about, uh," Finstock's eyes flitted around the room, first landing on Celeste, who only scoffed at him, and then moving to the most angst filled werewolf in the room, "McCall."

"Wha?" Scott grunted out, confused.

"The reading," Coach Finstock leaned up against his desk.

"Last night's reading?" Scott asked nervously, making it apparent that he had, in fact, not done the reading.

"How about, uh," the coach drawled out, "the reading of The Gettysburg Address?"

"Shut up, Greenburg," Celeste hissed with narrowed eyes when he laughed.

"What?" Scott was in a constant state of confusion.

"That's sarcasm," Coach said sarcastically, "You familiar with the term sarcasm, McCall?"

"Very," Scott looked back at Celeste and Stiles, who fist bumped beneath the desks.

"Did you do the reading, or no?"

"Uh," Scott rifled through his papers aimlessly, "I think I forgot."

"Nice work, McCall," Coach spoke, "It's not like you're averaging a 'D' in this class. C'mon buddy, you know I can't keep you on the team if you have a 'D'."

Celeste wanted to shave off one of his eyebrows for calling a student out in front of everyone.

"How about you summarize, uh, the previous night's reading?" Coach snowballed, and Celeste's heart was caught in her throat as she heard the faint beeping of the heart monitor rising, "No? How about the, uh, the night before that? No? How about you summarize anything you've ever read in your entire life."

The louder his voice got, the lower Celeste slid into her seat as she imagined Scott baking Coach Finstock in his little werewolf oven.

"No?" he continued to rant at a glowering Scott, "A blog? How about, uh, how about the back of a cereal box? How about the adult's only warning from your favorite website that you visit every night?"

At this point, even Celeste wanted to bake him in a little werewolf oven.

"Anything?" Finstock bellowed, "Thank you McCall. Thank you. Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I had for your generation. You just blew it for everybody. Thanks. Next practice, you can start with suicide runs. Unless that's too much reading for you."

Celeste was able to breathe again as the rapid beeping gradually, and she glanced over to see Allison and Scott clutching each other's hands like a lifeline beneath the desks.

Allison didn't make him weak, she anchored him.

☾ ☽

"It's her," Stiles proclaimed as the trio exited Finstock's class.

"What do you mean?" Confused McGee asked.

"It's Allison," Stiles spelled it out for him, "remember when you told me about the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her, right? About protecting her."

"Okay," Scott gestured for him to continue, and Celeste just nodded knowingly.

"Remember the night of the first lacrosse game? You said you could hear her voice out on the field."

"Yeah, I did," Scott confirmed.

"Well," Stiles elaborated, "so that's what brought you back so you could score. And then after the game in the locker room, you didn't kill her. At least, not like how you were trying to kill me. She brings you back, is what I'm saying."

"No, but that's not always true," Scott insisted, "because literally every time I'm kissing her, or touching her-,"

"No," Stiles cut him off, "that's not the same. When you're doing that, you're just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex, you know?"

Scott grinned dopily, and Celeste pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

"You're thinking about sex right now," Stiles deduced, "aren't you?"

"Yeah," Scott giggled, "sorry."

"That's fine," Stiles sighed, "look, back in the classroom when she was holding your hand, that was different, okay? I don't think she makes you weak, I think she actually gives you control. She's kind of like an anchor."

"Am I just invisible or something?" Celeste inquired, "Do I just not exist? Am I mistaken in thinking that I literally said that like, two class periods ago?"

She was ignored.

"You mean, because I love her?" Scott asked casually, causing both himself and Celeste to freeze in their tracks.

"Exactly," Stiles barreled on bluntly.

"Did I just say that?" Scott asked hoarsely, while Celeste hyperventilated next to him.

"Yes, you just said that," Stiles looked done.

"I love her," Scott breathed out.

"Hell yeah, you do," Celeste squealed, while Stiles just scowled.

"That's great," Stiles said cynically, "now moving on-,"

"Really," Scott cut him off dazedly, "I think I'm totally in love with her."

"And that's beautiful, now, before you go off and write a sonnet," Celeste flicked Stiles for ruining the moment, "can we figure this out please? Because you obviously can't be around her all the time."

"Yeah, sorry," Scott frowned, but his eyes still sparkled brightly with excitement, "so what do I do?"

"I don't know yet," Stiles rubbed his face in annoyance.

Celeste raised a brow as Stiles began hopping around.

"Uh oh," Scott looked worried, "you're getting an idea, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Stiles' eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Is this idea gonna get me in trouble?" Scott fretted.

"Maybe," Stiles nodded.

"So, yes," Celeste inserted.

"Is this idea gonna cause me physical pain?" Scott pressed.

"Yeah, definitely," Stiles agreed, clapping a hand on Scott's shoulder, "come on."

The two boys were on their way down the hall when they noticed Celeste wasn't coming.

"Lune," Stiles waved his hands around, "let's go."

"Can't" she called back, "I promised Lydia I'd meet up with her for lunch. Besides, I'm really not interested in watching Scott go through any more pain."

"I don't think I like you having other friends," Stiles grumbled to himself.

☾ ☽

"Celeste," Deaton called, "It is a little worrisome how often I have had to ask, but do you per chance know where Scott is?"

"Uh, no sir," Celeste lied through her teeth as she filled up the dog food bowls, "sorry."

She didn't think Scott would appreciate their boss knowing he had earned a detention for being a reckless idiot.

The bell chimed up front, signaling someone had entered, and Celeste perked up under the assumption of her friend arriving to work.

"Scott, you're late again," Deaton chastised as he filled out some paperwork, "I hope this isn't getting to be a habit."

The person who turned the corner to reveal themselves was most definitely not Scott McCall.

"Derek?" Celeste called out in confusion, wondering why he was here, seeing as they were closed and he didn't have a pet.

"Can I help you?" Deaton asked amicably, but he subtly stepped in front of Celeste.

"I hope so," Derek spoke enigmatically, as per usual, "I wanna know about the animal you found, with the spiral in its side."

"Excuse me?" Deaton crossed his arms, "What animal?"

"Three months ago," Derek elaborated for once, "the deer. You remember this?"

Derek unfolded a sheet of paper, and Celeste had to look away at the sight of a dead deer laying on its side with a spiral etched into its skin.

"Oh yes," Deaton nodded in recognition, "It's just a deer. And I didn't find it, they called me because they wanted to know if I had ever seen anything like it."

"What'd you tell them?" Derek demanded, not using his manners.

"I told them no," Deaton shrugged, but Celeste looked at him with suspicion as the veterinarian gulped nervously.

"Did you hear that?" Derek stepped forward menacingly, causing Deaton to take a step back.

"Hear what?" he asked, and Celeste started to get a really bad feeling as Derek stepped closer.

"The sound of your heart beat rising," Derek said, as though it should have been obvious.

"Excuse me?" Deaton looked as confused as Celeste felt.

"That's the sound of you lying," Derek practically growled out.

"Derek," Celeste shrieked as the born werewolf lunged forward, banging Deaton's head on the exam table.

"Oh geez, oh geez, oh geez," Celeste repeated breathlessly as Derek dragged an unconscious Deaton to a chair in the corner of the room, "stop. What the hell are you doing? Oh my god."

"He's the Alpha," Derek growled out as he bound the man's hands behind his back uncomfortably in cloth bandages.

"No he's not," Celeste was practically crying, checking over the unconscious man's face and inspecting his wounds, "he's just a veterinarian."

"You're just naïve," Derek shook his head.

"Or maybe you're just confused and desperate for answers," Celeste snapped, retrieving an alcohol wipe from the glass jar on the shelf behind her.

The veterinarian began to wake up from the stinging sensation caused by Celeste pressing the cleanser to the gash on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," Celeste spoke shakily as he shook himself clear of disorientation, "are you okay? Dumb question, of course you're not okay."

"It'll be okay, Celeste," Deaton spoke unconvincingly, "Just stay calm."

Celeste thought about cutting him free of his bindings, but thought better of it, knowing Derek would just knock him out again, or worse.

"Are you protecting someone?" Derek asked from the corner of the room, and Celeste turned to glare at him.

"Alright," Deaton breathed out shakily, "the key to the drug locker is in my pocket-,"

"I don't want drugs," Derek lunged forward aggressively, and Celeste huddled into herself as she experienced a side of Derek she hadn't seen before, "I wanna know why you're lying."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he insisted, and Celeste's watery eyes widened as it became apparent that the vet was indeed lying.

"What are you doing?" Deaton yelled as Derek picked up the chair with Deaton in it and suspended him in mid-air, "What do you want?"

Celeste squeezed her eyes shut. She wanted to protect Deaton, she wanted to protect everyone, but she couldn't. She was weak. She was pathetic.

"I wanna know who you are," Derek growled, "or who you're protecting."

"What are you doing?" Celeste had never felt more relieved than she had been when Scott barreled into the room, flicking on the light.

"Scott," Deaton called, not even thinking of himself, "get out of here. Take Celeste and go."

"Stop," Scott yelled, wrapping his arms comfortingly around Celeste as Derek knocked Deaton unconscious again.

"Look," Derek's eyes flitted between a fuming Scott and a trembling Celeste, "when he's conscious he can keep himself from healing, but unconscious he can't."

"Are you out of your mind?" Scott shouted hoarsely, "What are you talking about?"

"You wanna know that the spiral means, Scott?" Derek demanded, and Celeste haphazardly pieced together a motif of the spiral in her mind, "It's our sign for a vendetta. For revenge. It means he won't stop killing until he's satisfied."

"You think he's the Alpha?" Scott and Celeste both looked at him as though he were delusional.

"I'm about to find out."

Derek extended his claws with a flick of his wrist, but his hand was stopped from attacking Deaton by a fully transformed Scott, who had gently pushed Celeste behind him.

Scott growled menacingly, causing both Celeste and Derek to look at him in shock.

"Hit him again," the teen wolf threatened with uncharacteristic authority, "and then you'll see me get angry."

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

I can't wait for Celeste to get badass. It is important for her character development that she isn't at first, because that is really unrealistic. She is, and will become, strong in other ways than physical.

I don't like Celeste and Derek on opposite sides, but her reaction was realistic. Rip my brotp in season two.

NIGHT SCHOOL IS COMING UP YAY. I am simultaneously excited and terrified, because it is so renowned and I want to do it justice, but also put my own twist on it.

I love you all so so much!!

Stay hydrated,

-Bellexx