Alice Hale stood complacently in the middle of Beacon Hills high school's courtyard, a soft smile on her face as she drank in her surroundings.

The skirt of her pastel pink dress flowed softly in the breeze and her hair fell in loose curls around her face, framing the cream peter pan collar on the garment nicely.

A pair of well-built twins eyed her suspiciously as they walked past, but made no move to communicate with her.

She clutched the straps of her backpack tightly, letting out a content sigh, disregarding the people staring at her and the not-so-subtle whispers about her.

"Alice?"

The familiar, soothing voice of Scott McCall sounded from close by, and soon he and Stiles Stilinski made their way on either side of the girl.

"Oh," she beamed, grabbing on to each of their hands, "it's so lovely to see the both of you again."

"What are you doing here?" Scott spoke softly, as most seemed inclined to do in Alice's delicate presence, and gently placed a hand on the small of her back and guided her to the side of the courtyard, Stiles in tow.

"Derek told me that if I was staying, I had to attend school," Alice explained absent-mindedly, swinging her hand with Stiles', "and I thought it was a fantastic idea. I love to learn."

"Yeah," Stiles scoffed, "I'd hardly call the standardized fallacies they teach us 'learning'."

"Oh," Alice frowned, "what a dreadful perspective. Even if you aren't learning from your teachers, at least you're learning from your surroundings. There is no other place that forces such different people with different passions to coexist in such a harrowing environment. It's quite fascinating, really."

"Damn," Stiles raised a brow, "you could make a house fire sound positive."

All three teens froze as they registered his words, Alice immediately disassociating from the situation to escape the ashen memories plaguing her subconscious.

"Uh" Scott cleared his throat awkwardly, Stiles hitting himself repeatedly in the forehead beside the werewolf, "what, uh, what class do you have for first period?"

"Oh," Alice's lashes fluttered daintily as she returned to reality, the absent-minded smile returning to her face, "Economics with Robert Finstock."

"Us too," Stiles tried to smooth over his insensitive comment, "unfortunately."

"Chin up, Stiles Stilinski," she poked the grumpy boy on the nose, "even if we have a terrible time, we can always step outside and hear the birds chirping and know that the world is full of life and love and puppies."

"You sure are something else, Alice Hale," Stiles spoke with a fond smile as the girl began leading the way to class with a bounce in her step.

❉

"The stock market is based on two principles," Coach Finstock barked out, "What are they?"

Scott raised his with an excited smile on his face.

"Yes, McCall," Coach waved him off, "you can go to the bathroom. Anyone else?"

"Uh, no Coach," Scott deflated slightly, "I know the answer."

Alice beamed at her new friend, but Finstock burst into laughter.

"Oh," Finstock sobered at the boy's somber expression, "you're serious."

"Yeah," Scott nodded eagerly, "it's risk and reward."

"Wow," Finstock gaped at him, "who are you, and what have you done with McCall? Don't answer that, I like you better."

The proud beam on Scott's face was enough to make Alice's heart melt.

"Does anybody have a quarter?" Coach continued, clapping his hands together.

Stiles waved his arm spastically before digging into his pocket for a coin.

However, that wasn't the only thing he pulled out.

The class fell into awkward silence as an 'XXL condom' flew out of the boy's pocket and bounced to the floor.

"Stilinksi," Coach picked up the condom after a long pause, "I think you, uh, dropped this. Congratulations, by the way."

Stiles stared forward with the expression of someone who had just witnessed a violent murder.

"Risk and reward," Coach carried on, "Put the quarter in the mug and get the reward. Watch coach."

He set the mug on the ground and backed up, setting himself up to make the shot.

As soon as he tossed it forward, Alice twitched her finger and sent the quarter swerving slightly to the left and missing the mug.

Alice let out a little giggle at the man's frustration, causing him to set his eyes on her

"You," he barked out, "new girl with the unsettlingly happy expression. Why don't you give it a shot?"

"If you channeled all of the negative energy you harbor into a positive force," Alice spoke politely, "you could do a lot of good in the world."

Coach Finstock looked at her for a moment, and then blinked.

"Okay, Danny," he cleared his throat awkwardly, "reward."

"What's the reward?" Danny asked, fiddling with the quarter Finstock placed on his desk.

"You don't have to take the pop quiz tomorrow," Finstock smiled, obviously proud of himself.

"Coach," Danny raised a brow, "it's not a pop quiz if you tell us about it."

"Danny," Coach groaned, taking back the quarter, "you know, I really expect more from you at this point."

Scott laughed, but quickly stopped as Finstock slammed the coin on his desk.

"McCall," he shouted, "risk or reward? The risk: if you don't put that quarter in the mug, you have to take the pop- the quiz, and you have to write an essay. Risk: more work, reward: no work. Or, choose not to play."

"Well," Scott pondered, "isn't this just chance?"

"No," Coach countered, "you know your abilities, your coordination, your focus, past experience. All factors affecting the outcome. So what's it gonna be McCall? More work, no work, or choose not to play?"

Alice frowned as Scott pushed the quarter away, knowing he had the skill to complete the task.

"No play," Coach announced, "okay, who's next? Who wants the quarter?"

Stiles drummed his hands on his desk excitedly, hopping out of his chair.

"There you go," Coach encouraged, "There's a gambling man. Come on, step up."

Stiles began setting himself up to make the shot, but at that moment his father and a deputy walked in.

"Stiles," his father called out.

"Yeah coach," Stiles replied, too focused on the coin, "I got it."

"Stiles," his father said again.

His stern tone made Stiles freeze, looking up to meet his dad's tired eyes.

Alice wasn't sure what was going on, but it couldn't have been good.

❉

Alice strolled through the shelves of the school's library, delicately skimming her fingers over the bindings of the various novels.

She loved the feeling of the laminated casings crinkling against her touch.

A few yards away, Lydia was confidently striding over to a smirking boy Alice knew to be Aiden, but she faltered upon seeing the darker-haired girl.

"Alice?" Lydia called out tentatively, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, Lydia Martin," Alice beamed at the beautiful strawberry blonde, "I am so happy to see you again."

"Yeah," Lydia's pale cheeks flushed, Aiden forgotten entirely, "you too."

"You look spectacular today," Alice chirped.

The compliment was all Lydia needed to regain her composure standing up straighter and smiling coyly.

"Thanks," she tilted her head to the side, "I know."

"I'm so glad," Alice smiled brightly.

She was always a fan of people loving themselves.

"You know," Lydia made her voice drop to a hushed, sultry one, leaning forward so she was closer to Alice's ear, "you don't look too bad yourself."

Lydia was a little surprised at the boldness of her own comment.

Not because of Alice being a female, Lydia was very open about her sexuality and a firm believer that passion surpassed gender. She was surprised because Alice was Derek Hale's little sister.

"Why are we whispering?" Alice whispered back with wide, gray eyes.

Lydia's lashes fluttered at the girl's blatant obliviousness, and Alice smiled despite her confusion, not realizing that Lydia was flirting with her.

However, before she could respond, two teenage boys stumbled into the library and, much to the librarian's chagrin, ran over to where Alice and Lydia were standing.

"Hey," Scott spoke while Stiles panted beside him, "we need you."

❉

Alice sat on the metal exam table in Deaton's clinic, swinging her legs and sucking on a piece of ice while her brother and the wonder twins poured pounds of the frozen water into a metal tub.

Across the room, Deaton was explaining to Isaac the procedure they were going to use to get Isaac to remember his forgotten memories and, subsequently, locate Erica and Boyd.

"You'll be half transformed," Deaton explained patiently, "it will allow us to access your subconscious mind."

"How slow does his heart rate need to be?" Scott asked worriedly, his chocolate brown eyes rapt with attention.

"Very slow," Deaton replied vaguely.

"How slow is very slow?" Derek demanded, worried about his beta.

"Nearly dead," the veterinarian admitted with a wince.

Isaac tested the icy water, wincing as his hand came into contact with the frigid solution.

"It's safe though," Isaac fretted, "right?"

"Do you want me to answer honestly?" Deaton questioned.

"No," Isaac sighed, "no, not really."

The tension was interrupted by a resounding snap, and they all looked over to see Stiles with his hand in a surgical glove, wiggling his fingers in amusement.

Alice giggled, but she was the only one.

"What?" Stiles blinked, looking at their somber faces.

Derek shot him his patented glare, and the boy pouted, but removed the glove.

"If it feels too risky," Derek assured the blonde boy, "you don't have to do this."

Isaac grimaced, but removed his shirt as a sign of consent.

"You can do this, Isa," Alice spoke brightly, "I believe in you."

Isaac smiled despite himself, grateful for at least one positive outlook in the middle of such a somber situation.

The beta cautiously stepped into the tub, shaking and breathing heavily in response to the extreme cold.

Scott and Derek pushed him under, ice spilling over the rim of the tub and dripping onto the floor.

Almost immediately after, Isaac resurfaced with a howl, his eyes flashing gold and his sharp teeth bared.

"Get him back under," Deaton demanded.

Alice shut her eyes tightly as a struggle ensued, wanting nothing more than to steal Isaac away and wrap him in warm blankets and make him hot chocolate.

"Hold him," Deaton insisted as the werewolves fought to keep Isaac below the surface.

"We're trying," Derek growled out, tightening his hold on the beta.

Finally, the boy went limp, and Alice's breath hitched in her throat as Isaac floated to the surface.

"Remember," Deaton spoke in a hushed tone, "only I speak to him. Too many voices will confuse him and draw him out."

The werewolves, and Stiles, stayed silent, observing the beta's relaxed mouth and vein-painted eyelids.

"Isaac?" the vet asked, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Isaac gasped out, "I can hear you."

"This is Dr. Deaton," the man explained, "I'd like to ask you a few questions, is that alright?"

"Yes," he retorted softly.

"I want to ask you about the night you found Erica and Boyd," Deaton continued, "I want you to remember it for me in as vivid detail as possible. Like you're actually there."

"I don't wanna do," Isaac's voice broke – along with Alice's heart – and the lights began to flicker ominously, "I don't wanna do that."

"It's alright," Deaton spoke soothingly, "just relax. They're just memories, you can't be hurt by a memory."

Alice begged to differ.

Isaac struggled for a little while longer before Deaton was able to talk him down.

"Now," Deaton commanded smoothly, "let's go back to that night, to the place you found Erica and Boyd. Can you tell me what you see? Is there some kind of building, a house?"

"It's- it's not a house," Isaac responded in a hoarse tone, "It's stone. Looks like marble."

"Perfect," Deaton praised, "can you give me any other descriptors?"

"It's dusty," Isaac continued, "and, uh, empty."

"Like an abandoned building?" the vet offered

Isaac's pink lips moved into a frown, and the lights began to flicker again, more violently this time.

"Isaac?" Deaton asked with thinly veiled concern, "Isaac."

"Someone's here," Isaac panted, instinctively grasping on to Scott's forearm and breathing deeply, "someone's here."

"Isaac," the vet soothed, "relax."

"They see me," Isaac began to shout, "they see me."

"Just relax," Isaac calmed again at Deaton's words, "good. Now tell us what you see. Tell us everything."

"I hear them," Isaac's cerulean blue eyes shot open, water clumping his lashes together and his pupils dilating over clouded irises, "He's talking about the full moon. About being out of control when the moon rises."

"Is he talking about Boyd and Erica?" Deaton coaxed.

"I think so," Isaac's lips had turned blue, "I- I can't see her. I can't see either of them."

"Can you hear anything else?" Deaton spoke, more forcefully this time.

"They're worried," Isaac spoke darkly, "that they're gonna hurt each other."

"If they're locked in together on the full moon," Derek interjected, "they're gonna tear each other apart."

Alice wished everyone could just get along and frolic in a meadow somewhere and make each other flower crowns.

"Isaac," Deaton relayed, "we need to find them right now. Can you see them?"

"No," Isaac spoke shortly.

"Do you know what kind of room it is?" Deaton tried, "Is there any kind of marker? A number on a door? A sign?"

Everyone flinched as Isaac shot up with a gasp.

"They're here," he whispered, "they, they-,"

"It's alright, Isaac," Deaton soothed.

"No," Isaac gasped out, "no. They're here. They found me. They're here."

"This isn't working," Derek snapped, "Isaac, where are you?"

"I can't see them," he began to yell, the overhead light cracking in time with his shaking body, "It's too dark."

"Just tell me where you are," Deaton spoke softly.

"Isaac," Derek shouted, "Where are you?"

Alice's chest began to constrict as chaotic, loud conflict ensued.

"His heartrate," Deaton hissed, "he could go into shock."

"Derek," Scott joined in the fray, "let him go."

"Isaac, where are you?" Derek continued regardless, "What did you see?"

Alice's mind was buzzing, all of the awful yelling pounding on her ear drums and threatening to let itself in.

"Stop it," she whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut.

No one noticed.

Her hands clenched on the ends of the exam table, knuckles going white.

Her heart felt like it was about to beat out of her chest, and there was a shrill ringing sound piercing her ears until she finally snapped.

"Stop it!" she let out a haunting scream, covering her ears with her hands.

Beyond her notice, violent crashes ensued and carts toppled over.

Alice's gray eyes flew open to see Deaton, Derek, Scott, and Stiles, all having been flung away from Isaac and knocked into walls around the clinic.

Plaster fell from the ceiling like snowflakes, and the lightbulb on the overhead lamp broke, sending glass flying everywhere.

"I told you to stop," she whimpered in a whisper, "I told you to stop."

The shocked faces were drawn away from the girl as Isaac shot up to a sitting position in the silver tub.

"It's a vault," Isaac shouted, gasping for air, "It's a bank vault. I saw it, I saw the name."

The four males scrambled up from the grounding, moving to help Isaac out of the tub, but Alice got their first.

She pulled him out and quickly wrapped him in a warm towel, flinging herself into his arms with no regard for the droplets of water still covering his limber body.

"It's, uh," Isaac calmed down as Alice's body heat and comforting touch settled his nerves, "It's Beacon Hills First National bank. It's an abandoned bank and they're keeping them locked inside the vault."

Grim silence ensued, all of the men staring gravely at Isaac as Alice still clung to his shivering frame, her head buried in his chest.

"What?" Isaac grew tense at their expressions.

"You don't remember what you said right before you came out of it," Stiles grimaced, "do you?"

Alice's eyes widened in confusion, she herself having failed to hear his words in the midst of her episode.

"No," Isaac's wet lashes fluttered, and he tightened his grip on Alice in concern.

"Uh," Stiles continued "you said when they captured you that they dragged you into a room, and that there was a body in it."

"What body?" Isaac's voice shook.

"Erica," Stiles winced, "you said it was Erica."

Isaac's jaw clenched, letting go of Alice only long enough to put his shirt back on before pulling her up with him to sit on the exam table, her back pressed against his chest as his arms encircled her dainty frame.

It was like he was using her as his own personal teddy bear, clinging on like she was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"No," Derek growled out, "she's not dead."

"Derek," Stiles spoke up, "he said 'there's a dead body. It's Erica'. Doesn't exactly leave us much room for interpretation."

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?" Derek tried desperately to cling on to hope.

"Someone else," Stiles sighed, "obviously."

"Maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle," Scott offered, "the one that saved you."

"No," Isaac said when Scott turned to look at him, "she wasn't like us. Whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."

"What if that's how Erica died?" Stiles pondered morosely, "They, like, pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives. It's like werewolf Thunderdome."

"What's Thunderdome?" Alice whispered, leaning her head back to look at Isaac for an explanation.

Isaac only looked down at her and shrugged, pulling the girl closer.

"Then we get them out tonight," Derek spoke firmly.

"Be smart about this, Derek," Deaton warned, "you can't just go storming in."

"If Isaac got in," Derek countered, "then so can we."

Alice found herself wondering if they let Isaac find them on purpose.

"But he didn't get through a vault door," Deaton argued, "did he?"

"We need a plan," Scott attempted to compromise.

"How are we gonna come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?" Derek demanded.

"Uh, I think someone already did," Stiles looked down at his phone, "Beacon Hills First National closes its doors three months after vault robbery. Doesn't say how it was robbed, but it probably won't take long to find out."

"How long?" Derek scowled at him.

"It's the internet, Derek," Stiles blinked, letting out a small laugh.

Derek's glare only intensified.

"Okay," Stiles sighed, "minutes. By the way, is no one going to mention the fact that Alice just flung us all into the walls like freaking Carrie or something?"

"Nope."

❉❉❉❉❉❉

Alice and Isaac are brotp because I am Isaac trash and it haunts me in every story I write.

Love you always and stay hydrated,

-belle xx