I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did the breaks between seasons wouldn't be so damn long.

Song - Here With Me // Susie Suh

Celeste's POV

"Say it, Lahey."

"I'm not going to say it."

"Say it or I put in the orders to my henchmen to give you a slow and painful death."

"Fine, fine," Isaac sighed, "Celeste Lune is superior to me, a lowly nerd, in all things, especially music playlists."

"That is satisfactory, thank you," Celeste laughed, feeling pride as her friend admitted she had a better Spotify playlist than him.

Isaac pulled his dad's car into the school parking lot, and the two sat in silence for a moment as they took the school in.

There were lights projecting cartoon stars on the front of the building, and towers of blue-and-white balloons making up the entrance. Music could be heard from inside, and the lot filled with couples making their way to the dance.

Celeste was brought out of her observations by Isaac opening the door for her, and she blinked.

Smiling graciously, she stepped out of the vehicle and into the cool evening.

"Ready to enter a building filled with the enticing aroma of the entire student body's melding body odors?" Celeste grinned cheerfully at her date.

"Hell yeah," Isaac laughed, the two linking arms.

Celeste laughed too, however her joy was coming from the sight of one Scott McCall running across the roof of the school.

"Freaking werewolves," she muttered.

"What?" Isaac leaned closer to hear her better.

Celeste's eyes widened, but she was saved from answering as their attention was drawn to a familiar bright blue jeep sliding into the lot.

"God, who would've thought they would end up together?" Isaac laughed lightheartedly, as Lydia stumbled out of the car and brushed her dress off in disgust.

"What?" Celeste brought her eyes up to meet his, "They're not- I mean, they're just friends, I think."

Isaac frowned, nodding, and Allison waved excitedly to Celeste from her place next to Jackson.

Celeste gave her a thumbs up, in reference to the silver dress she was wearing, paired with black tights and a black leather jacket.

"Jackson," Lydia spoke primly from beside Stiles when he and Allison passed, "you look handsome."

"Obviously," Jackass spoke, "it's Hugo Boss."

Celeste narrowed her eyes, casually striding over with Isaac and "accidentally" stepping the wrong way, successfully tripping Jackson and making him shatter his bottle of vodka.

"Jinkies," Celeste's eyes widened comically, placing a hand over her chest as Isaac stifled his laughs beside her, "well I just don't know what happened. You came out on nowhe-,"

"Shut up, Lune," Jackson snapped, dragging a smirking Allison away in a huff.

Celeste cackled.

"I don't care, I don't want compliments," Lydia was muttering to herself a few steps away, "I will not fall prey to society's desire to turn girls into emotionally insecure neurotics who pull up their dresses at the first flattering remark."

"You go, Lydia," Celeste smiled widely at her best friend, "you tell society that it's backhanded compliments used to belittle and demean women in order to retain their secondary positions is messed up."

Stiles looked up, and his jaw clenched tightly at the sight of her linking arms with a smiling Isaac.

"Well I think you look beautiful" Stiles spoke hoarsely, his eyes not wavering from Celeste's for even a moment.

"Really?" Lydia spoke, her stance becoming confident again as she looked to Stiles expectantly.

Stiles blinked at her voice, clearing his throat awkwardly. He looked back at Celeste once more, before holding his arm out to Lydia and leading her inside.

"Let's go, Flo," Celeste shook herself free of whatever spell Stiles put her under whenever he so much as glanced at her and looked to her date.

"What, so I'm an insurance saleswoman with terrible hair now?" Isaac laughed as they strode into the building.

"Let me live, Lahey."

☾ ☽

"Wow, they really went all out," Celeste breathed out as they made their way into the gymnasium, which was decked out in blue and white everything.

"I've never seen so many sparkles in one place," Isaac whispered, horrified.

"I don't really know what a normal human being does at one of these things," Celeste scrunched up her nose in confusion.

"I think we're supposed to dance," Isaac laughed.

"Fine," Celeste sighed out dramatically, "but consider yourself warned. I look like an old man who's back gave out on the dance floor."

The two strode clumsily on to the dance floor, staying close by the tables as to keep the cringe worthy embarrassment to an absolute minimum.

"What even is dancing?" Celeste yelled over the music, "I'm just jerking my body around in a random arrangement of movement."

Surprisingly enough, the two were having a good time.

That is until Celeste allowed herself to glance over at the table where Stiles and Lydia were currently seated.

Lydia just looked bored as hell, but Stiles looked utterly pissed about something.

His jaw was clenched tightly as he trained his slightly narrowed eyes to look at a spot directly ahead of him, and he ran his hand over his buzzcut like he always did when he was frustrated.

Finally, he stood up, and he looked like he was ranting to Lydia about something.

Lydia only smirked, glancing at Celeste before nodding and getting up, taking Stiles' hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

"You good?" Isaac brought her focus back to him.

"What?" Celeste wanted to collapse on the floor and die, "I'm fine."

Celeste was shoved directly into Isaac's chest as Coach ran past, shouting 'McCall' and waving his arms around.

They observed as Scott came running through the crowd, dragging Danny up from his seat and wrapping his arms around him.

"McCall, you're not supposed to-," Coach cut himself off as he slid to a stop in front of the dancing boys, "What the hell are you-."

The band stopped playing, and all eyes were on the coach as they looked on in disgust, assuming the worst.

"The hell are you doing?" Coach asked in confusion, causing everyone to glare.

"Yes, coach?" Scott asked in mock confusion, moving closer to Danny.

"Okay," the coach started wheezing and laughing, "you- I was just saying he was not supposed- I mean I wasn't saying that he shouldn't- you guys don't think- you- I was just- dance everybody, just dance. It's a dance, it's a party.

Celeste laughed into Isaac's arm as the coach faded into the distance, laughing manically.

Pulling away from him, they resumed the typical teenage dance stance, his arms encircling her waist and hers around his shoulders.

They fell into a nice rhythm, swaying back and forth as the music pounded around them.

Celeste stiffened as her eyes fell on to the sight of Stiles and Lydia trailing off the dance floor.

Isaac noticed her change in posture, and his jaw ticked slightly before he pulled away from her.

"Go," Isaac forced a small smile, but it came out as more of a grimace.

"What?" Celeste frowned, "What are you talking about?"

"Go see Stiles," Isaac elaborated, "You haven't taken your eyes off of him all night."

Celeste's heart leapt in her throat at the forlorn expression on her friend's face, as she realized for the first time that maybe the blue eyed boy didn't see her as just a friend.

"Isaac," she searched desperately for an excuse for her behavior that didn't involve 'hey, there's a crazy pyscho murdering alpha werewolf after my friends and I and I'm kind of distracted', but Isaac just shook his head.

"I'll be fine, really," he insisted, "just go talk to him. Also, for the record? He hasn't taken his eyes off of you either."

Celeste's cheeks heated up profusely, and she gave her friend an apologetic smile.

Hesitating, she leaned forward and kissed the blonde boy on the cheek, squeezing his hand before taking off after her friends.

She didn't look back to see the way he held his hand to his cheek and smiled to himself.

"Hey," she caught up with Stiles just as he left the noisy gym and entered the hallway, grabbing lightly on to his arm, "What happened? Is everything okay?"

Stiles blinked at her in confusion, his eyes searching behind her before meeting hers.

"What happened to Isaac?" Stiles asked, his tone almost bitter, "You guys looked pretty close out there."

"He's great," Celeste lied with a frown, "Where's Lydia?"

"She's looking for Jackson," Stiles looked at the floor, glaring at it as though it had eaten his last curly fry.

"Oh, hey, I'm sorry," Celeste looked at him sympathetically, taking his hand comfortingly.

"Sorry for what?" Stiles peered down at her, but interlaced their fingers nonetheless.

"I just know you really like her," Celeste explained, "and it sucks that she's so hung up on a locust like Jackson when she could be with such an amazing guy like you."

"What are you- you think I like- dear god," Stiles shook his head, chuckling darkly, "You're the blindest person I've ever met in my entire goddamn life."

Celeste squinted at him, about to berate him for being rude when Jackson stumbled over.

"Where the hell have you been?" Stiles inquired of him instead of explaining his odd comment, "Did Lydia ever find you?"

Jackson did a weird shudder-shrug thing.

Stiles mimicked him.

"What's wrong?" Celeste pressed.

"I was about behind the school," Jackson began to ramble, "and I, I was out-,"

"What happened?" Stiles interrupted his stammering gravely, "Jackson, what did you do?"

"God dammit Whittemore," Celeste groaned, the terror on his face explaining it all.

Celeste was going to inquire further, but her body was taken over by foreign feelings of confusion and fear, and her body went cold.

"The lacrosse field," she grabbed Stiles' hand in alarm, "Stiles, we need to get to the lacrosse field."

"What?" Stiles looked at her in concern, "Why?"

"I don't know," Celeste admitted, "now, Stiles."

Stiles looked at her deeply before nodding, tugging her outside to the field.

Once there, they were met with the sight of Lydia in the middle of the green, her dress shining in the glare of the lights as Peter approached her.

The two broke into a sprint, trying to reach their friend.

"Lydia," Stiles shouted hoarsely, "run."

Lydia whipped her head around to face them, and by the time she turned back to Peter, he extended his fangs and sank them into her flesh.

Tears ran down Celeste's face, blurring her vision as she and Stiles approached the collapsed figure of her bloodied best friend.

Her knees buckled beneath her, and she reached desperately for Lydia's hand, her breathing loud and uneven.

Peter took her distraction as an opportunity to grab her by the waist and clutch her dangerously close, his canines grazing the skin between her neck and collarbone.

"Don't kill her," Stiles put his hands in front of him, and they were shaking terribly, "please."

"Of course not," Peter dragged her hair behind her shoulder with a single claw, "just tell me how to find Derek."

"What?" Stiles questioned hoarsely, tears gathering weight in his waterline as Celeste let out an involuntary whimper.

"Tell me how to find Derek Hale," Peter breathed down Celeste neck.

"Dude, you're creepy as fuck," Celeste snapped.

"I don't know that," Stiles stammered as Peter left warning indents on Celeste's skin with his teeth, "How would I know that?"

"Because you're the clever one, aren't you?" Peter grinned, blood dripping down his chin, "Besides our dear little Celeste, of course, but I'd say the ethereal little genius is a little indisposed at the moment. And because deception has a particularly acrid scent, Stiles. Tell me the truth, or I will rip her apart."

"Look, I don't know, okay?" Stiles' breaths were coming out in pants, and his eyes were puffed with unshed tears, "I swear to god, I have no idea."

"Tell me," Peter roared, the sound right by her ear, "or I puncture poor Lydia's jugular."

Stiles still hesitated, but Celeste broke at his threat against her best friend.

"The phone, Stiles," Celeste whimpered out desperately, their eyes connecting.

"See?" Peter grinned menacingly, "Clever girl."

"Okay, okay, okay look," Stiles relented, "I think he knew."

"Knew what?" Peter impatiently growled.

"Derek," Stiles elaborated, "I think he knew he was gonna be caught."

"By the Argents?" Peter pressed.

"Yeah, and when they were shot," Stiles grimaced, "he and Scott, I think he took Scott's phone."

"Why?" Peter asked stupidly.

"They all have G.P.S. now," Stiles explained, "so if he still has it, and if it's still on, you can find him."

Peter smiled contentedly, relaxing behind Celeste.

"Would you let her go now?" Stiles snapped.

"Well now," Peter pouted, "where would be the fun in that?"

"Just kill me," Stiles shouted, "I don't care anymore."

"Stiles, stop," Celeste spoke with tears in her eyes at his proclamation.

"Teenagers," Peter sighed, "always so dramatic."

Nevertheless, he released Celeste to stumble into Stiles' arms.

"We have work to do," Peter announced, pulling out a white handkerchief and wiping away Lydia's blood from his mouth.

"We can't just leave her here," Celeste's voice was battered, "I won't let you."

The alpha werewolf paused, looking at her, and Celeste could swear his eyes softened a fraction as he did so.

"Call Jackson," he relented, "that's all you get."

☾ ☽

Celeste sat in the backseat of Stiles' jeep, the familiar environment clashing with the unfamiliar situation in the ugliest of ways.

Her eyes were pointed forward, burning daggers into the back of Peter's horrifying hair style.

Stiles drove them according to Peter's directions, his posture stiff.

"Don't feel bad," Peter drawled out, "If she turns, she'll be incredibly powerful."

"Yeah," Stiles snapped, "and once a month she'll go out of her freaking mind and try to tear us apart."

"Well, actually, considering she's a woman," Peter responded calmly, "twice a month."

"Did you just make a period joke?" Celeste hissed from the back seat, "I swear to god if you just made a period joke I'll shave off your almost mullet and shove it up your-,"

"Cel," Stiles interrupted warningly, though Peter just chuckled in amusement.

Celeste huffed, flopping back in her seat like a toddler.

Stiles pulled into a parking garage near the hospital, slowing his vehicle to a halt.

Peter wasted no time in exiting the jeep, dragging Stiles out by the collar of his shirt.

Celeste followed behind them cautiously, keeping her head in a swivel as Derek had taught her.

As much as she despised Peter, she was secretly relieved that they were on track to finding Derek.

"Who's car is this?" Stiles inquired when they stopped in front of the trunk of a grey vehicle.

"It belonged to my nurse," Peter said vaguely.

"What happened to your nur- oh my god," Stiles cut himself off as Peter opened the trunk, grabbing Celeste and shielding her face in his chest at the sight of the nurse's corpse in the back seat.

"I got better," Peter shrugged, nonchalantly retrieving a laptop case and handing it to Stiles.

Once he was sure the trunk was closed, he released Celeste from his grip, the two exchanging nervous looks before looking to Peter for further instruction.

"Good luck getting a signal down here," Stiles said sarcastically as Peter began removing things from the case.

Peter passed him a little black box.

"Oh, Mi-Fi," Stiles spoke with a falsely cheery disposition, "and you're a Mac guy. Does that go for all werewolves, or just a personal preference?"

"Turn it on, get connected," Peter demanded.

"For free, at education connection," Celeste muttered under her breath.

Both males turned to look at her oddly.

"What?" Celeste snapped, "Sorry if I'm for some reason the only one freaking out about the dead body in the trunk."

"Look," Stiles turned back to the conversation, "you still need Scott's username and password, and I'm sorry but I don't know them."

"You know them," Peter growled, "both of them."

"You don't know his life," Celeste snapped.

"I really don't," Stiles agreed.

"Even if I couldn't hear your heartbeat," Peter snapped, "I would still be able to tell that you're lying."

"I swear to god-,"

Stiles was interrupted by Peter shoving his face into the surface of the car.

"Get the hell away from him," Celeste yelled, trying to pull his hands away.

"I can be very persuasive, Stiles," Peter wasn't even phased by Celeste's attempts, "don't make me persuade you more."

"Go to hell," Stiles spat.

"No?" Peter raised a brow, "Alright then, let's try a different tactic. You track down Derek, and I don't sink my teeth into that pretty little girlfriend of yours."

Stiles' jaw clenched tightly, but he relented, moving in front of the computer.

Celeste squished Peter with her thumb and index finger.

"What happens after we find Derek?" Stiles questioned grimly as he began typing.

"Don't think, Stiles," Peter snapped, "type."

"You're gonna kill people aren't you?" Stiles glanced between the screen, Peter, and Celeste.

"Only the responsible ones," Peter assured.

"Oh, well then by all means," Celeste waved her arms around, "I'm so sorry we ever doubted you."

"Look, if I do this," Stiles looked to Peter, "you have to promise to leave Scott out of it."

"Do you know why wolves hunt in packs?" Peter questioned, "It's because their favorite prey is too large to be brought down by one wolf alone. I need Derek, and Scott. I need Celeste too; she just doesn't know it yet."

"Me?" Celeste pointed to herself, "You need me? Dude, I once broke my hand eating an apple."

"My sweet Celeste," Peter smiled fondly at her, "You hold power far greater than any werewolf could ever hope to achieve."

Celeste double chinned at him.

"Leave her out of this, you son of a bitch," Stiles narrowed his eyes dangerously.

"I'm afraid that's not up to you," Peter smiled dangerously.

"They won't help you," Stiles snapped.

"Oh, he will, because it'll save Allison," Peter leaned close, "and she will, because it will save Lydia, and you will, because it will save her."

Stiles stiffened, and began typing in Scott's log in information while Celeste flicked Peter off from behind his back.

"His username is Allison?" Peter asked incredulously.

Stiles typed in the passcode.

"His password is also Allison?" Peter sounded done.

"Still want him in your pack?" Stiles asked tersely.

The computer made a little beeping noise, and the location of Scott's phone popped up.

"Wait, what?" Stiles asked as the three huddled around the computer, "That's where they're keeping him? His own house?"

"Not at it," Peter realized, "under it. I know exactly where that is."

The three started as a low howl was heard in the distance.

"And I'm not the only one," Peter stated with finality, "give me your keys."

Stiles pouted slightly, but fished his keys out of his pocket.

"Be careful," he fretted, "she grinds in second."

Peter took the keys, squeezing them and bending the metal beyond repair in his fist.

"Rude," Celeste huffed.

"So you're not gonna kill me?" Stiles challenged, causing Peter to pause.

Celeste sent him a 'you dumb ass motherfucker' look.

"Don't you understand yet?" Peter looked between the two of them, "I'm not the bad guy here."

"You turn into a giant monster with red eyes and fangs, and you're not the bad guy here?" Stiles scoffed.

Celeste wanted to point out that that made Scott a bad-guy-adjacent, but she stayed silent.

"I like you Stiles," Peter spoke, causing them both to scoff, "since you've helped me, I'm going to give you something in return. Do you want the bite?"

Celeste froze, her blue eyes widening in alarm.

"What?" Stiles asked hoarsely.

"Do you want the bite?" Peter enunciated, "If it doesn't kill you – and it could – you'll become like us."

"Like you?" Stiles asked in disgust.

"Yes, a werewolf," Peter snapped, "Would you like me to draw you a picture? That first night I bit Scott in the woods because I needed a new pack, it could have easily been you. You'd be every bit as powerful as him. No more standing by his side, watching him become stronger, and quicker, more popular. Watching him get the girl. You'd be equals, maybe more."

Peter pulled Stiles' hand forward, holding it up to his mouth.

"Yes or no?" he asked.

"Stiles," Celeste whispered shakily, "don't."

Peter's canines extended, and he was about to bite him when Stiles ripped his hand away.

"I don't want to be like you," Stiles spoke firmly.

Celeste let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Do you know what I heard just then?" Peter inquired, "Your heart beating slightly faster over the words 'I don't want'. You may believe that you are telling the truth but you are lying to yourself. Goodbye Stiles. Celeste, always a pleasure."

As Peter got into his nurse's car, Celeste saw the uncertainty in Stiles' eyes.

"Hey," Celeste grabbed his arm, "ignore him. He's just salty that you're above his bullshit."

"Yeah," Stiles nodded, "yeah, I'm sure you're right."

"I'm literally always right."

☾ ☽

"Celeste, pressing the button more isn't going to make it go any faster."

Stiles and Celeste were currently in the Beacon Hills hospital elevator, waiting impatiently to check up on Lydia.

The metal contraption finally dinged, its doors sliding open and allowing them entry to Lydia's ward.

The two barreled forward, Stiles immediately being stopped by his dad.

The world around Celeste blurred as she approached the window pane separating Lydia from the rest of the world, standing next to a distraught looking Jackson.

The strawberry blonde lay on her hospital bed, completely comatose. Her arms were bruised from loss of blood, and her mother sat beside her, worry clear on the woman's face.

Celeste didn't know how long she stood there, transfixed, before Jackson spoke.

"It's messed up," he nodded forward, "how they just have her on display like this."

"Nah," Celeste smiled sadly, "she'd like the attention. Something about dramatic appeal."

Jackson snorted, but nodded in agreement.

They stood in silence a while longer, before Stiles grabbed Celeste's hand and pulled her away.

"Hey, where are you going?" Jackson chased after them.

"To find Scott," Stiles snapped, not in the mood to put up with Jackass.

"You don't have a car," Jackson pointed out the obvious.

"I'm aware of that, thank you," Stiles side eyed him.

"Hey, I'll drive," Jackson put a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles flicked it off.

"Look," he spoke, "just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, alright? Half of this is still your fault."

"Look, I have a car, you don't," Jackson had a valid point, "Do you want my help or not?"

"Alright, did you bring the Porsche?" Stiles relented.

"Yeah," Jackson pulled out his keys.

"Okay," Stiles nodded, snatching them from him, "I'll drive."

"Boys," Chris Argent went and popped up out of nowhere, "Celeste. I was wondering if you could tell me where Scott McCall is."

Stiles immediately nudged Celeste behind him, and much to her surprise, Jackson stepped in front of her as well.

Celeste silently sized up the two men standing behind him, judging one of them for the outdated hat he was wearing.

"Scott McCall?" Stiles acted as though he were a stranger, "Uh, haven't seen him since the dance."

"Celeste?" Argent turned to the girl, "How about you?"

"Honestly," Celeste shrugged, "I just know him as Alli's boyfriend."

She wanted to remind the man who he would really be hurting if Scott was harmed tonight.

"Jackson, you?" Stiles pressed.

"Uh," Jackson stuttered, "I, uh."

"For the love of god," Stiles muttered, and Celeste groaned.

That was all it took for Argent's minions to manhandle the three teens, pulling Jackson and Stiles off god knows where and pushing Celeste into a nearby exam room.

The man with the terrible fashion sense stayed behind with Celeste, while the others left.

"Awe," Celeste pretended to pout, "Isolate the weakest link, I get it. What are you going to do? Torture me?"

"Actually, we have orders not to touch you," the man looked at her as though she was a weak little girl.

"I see," Celeste nodded, "Even if I did something like this?"

"Something like what?" he frowned in confusion.

Celeste attempted to dart past him, only to receive a fist to her jaw.

She could feel blood pooling inside her mouth from the hit as she fell to the floor in pain.

"I guess I could make an exception," he smirked down at her.

Celeste could've stayed down, she could have admitted defeat and waited for the fight to be over.

But her friends needed her.

So, with that in mind, she cracked her neck, spit the blood out of her mouth, and stood from the ground.

"Kinky," she smiled, before grabbing onto his wrists and using the force of her own body weight to flip the man onto the ground.

Granted, the element of surprise was the only reason she was able to pull that off, and it helped that he hit his head on the corner of the exam table and was therefore rendered unable to get back up, but she was taking this one as a victory.

"That's right, bitch," Celeste fist pumped before grimacing, "Sorry I called you a bitch. I just got excited."

The man groaned in response.

Celeste opened the door, only to be met by the sight of Argent and his man rushing out of the hospital, Jackson and Stiles coming out unharmed behind them.

"Oh my god," Stiles spotted her, immediately noticing her injury, "did that bastard hurt you? I swear to god I'll kill-,"

"Stiles," Celeste pushed his hands away from where he was inspecting her face, "really not the time."

Stiles hesitated, glancing back at the room before nodding.

"Great," Celeste nodded, "now let's go kick some alpha slash argent except not Allison because we love her ass."

☾ ☽

Celeste sat in the backseat of Jackson's Porsche, holding on to two bottles of Lydia Martin style bad-assery.

She winced as Stiles pressed harder on the accelerator.

"Hey, this isn't exactly an all-terrain vehicle," Jackson snapped.

"Did you pay for it?" Stiles asked.

"No," Jackson admitted.

"Then shut up."

Celeste snorted despite herself as Stiles pulled up to the Hale house, the trio scrambling out of the car after Celeste passed out the fire bombs.

Stiles raced forward, hurling his bottle, only to have it get caught by the monstrous alpha.

"Oh, damn," Stiles groaned.

"Allison," Scott shouted, tossing his girlfriend her bow.

She loaded an arrow, shooting forward and shattering the bottle, which ignited Peter's arm on impact.

Jackson threw his forward, successfully setting the entirety of the alpha on fire.

Stiles shielded Celeste from view as the beast stumbled around in, literally, fiery rage.

It charged at Allison, only to be put off by Scott kicking him away.

Peter slowly put himself out, left to fall to the forest floor, dying the way his family members did years before.

Then, Scott and Allison proceeded to make out while a man burned to death a few feet away.

Derek staggered out of the house and over to Peter, crouching over him.

Celeste could tell what he was going to do.

"Derek," she approached him, trying her best to ignore the near corpse beneath him, "you don't want to do this, not really."

"You said the cure comes from the one that bit you," Scott added, "if you do this, I'm dead. Her father, her family, what am I supposed to do?"

"You've already decided," Peter wheezed beneath him, "I can smell it on you."

Derek raised his claws, and despite Scott's protests, swiped his nails across his uncle's neck.

He stood, turning to face them, his eyes glowing blood red.

"I am the Alpha now," his voice didn't sound human.

From the corner of her eye, Celeste saw it before anyone else did.

She saw Chris Argent pull out a gun, and aim it at Derek's head.

At the very last second, right as he pulled the trigger, Celeste leapt forward and shoved Derek out of the way.

Celeste felt a dull pain in her chest, and she collapsed on the ground in agony as it intensified, spreading throughout her entire system.

She heard Allison's scream and Scott's shout, she saw Chris drop his gun in shock and Derek look at her dumbfounded, she even noticed Jackson lurch forward in concern.

Most of all, though, she heard Stiles. She heard his voice go hoarse from screaming, she saw his whiskey eyes turn bloodshot as tears poured down his face, and she felt his hand in hers as he dropped to his knees beside her.

"No, no, no, no, no," Stiles was repeating dazedly, "this can't be happening. Not you. I can't lose you. Don't you leave me, don't you fucking leave me."

Celeste smiled up at him, as her vision began to fade and her hearing became muffled.

Scott and Derek could feel it, they could hear her pulse fading and they could smell the death in the air.

Everything began to blur, until all she could see was Stiles.

Blood bubbled in her mouth, spilling from her lips like unspoken emotions.

With her last breath, she opened her mouth to speak.

"I really freaking love you, you know that?"

With that, her whole world faded to black.

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

The End.

Lmao just kidding. Well, sort of. Is it bad that I derive pleasure from killing off characters? Probably.

Stay hydrated by drinking your own tears,

-Belle xx