"SHE ATE THE LIVER?" Scott asked as they walked toward the school. Wren always loved the perfectly normal conversations they had, not to mention pretty loudly in public. There was no way that she was the only person who noticed the weird stares they get as they walk around.

"No, I didn't say she ate it," Stiles corrected quickly, as if it were any better. "I just said it was missing. And you know what? Even if she did, so what?"

Wren furrowed her eyebrows at him. "What do you mean, 'so what'? She ate a liver. You know what Lydia will do when she finds out? She might actually carve her tongue out." She said the last part slowly in order to emphasize it. She did not know why she cared. She hadn't cared about Lydia's feelings in three years.

"But it's the most nutritious part of the body," Stiles countered, acting like that would change the fact that Lydia ate the liver of a dead body that she robbed from a grave. Wren was getting ahead of herself. They didn't even know if it was Lydia who took it.

"Why do you know that?" the blonde girl moaned. She knew that Stiles was smart, but sometimes, his random facts freaked her out a bit. "Actually, I don't even want to know."

Scott looked at both of them with a weird look and muttered, "I never ate anyone's liver."

"Yeah, right, 'cause when it comes to the werewolves, you're a real model of self-control," the Stilinski commented sarcastically. They began walking up the stairs, but he stopped them abruptly, stepping in front of his two friends and looking at Scott. "Actually, wait, hold on. You're the test case for this, so we should be going over what happened to you."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, and Wren was a little confused herself. Scott never went running naked into the woods, at least that she knew of. She had requested years before that the boys kept some things to themselves when they thought she wouldn't want to know.

Stiles sighed, looking at them like they were idiots, which he did on a pretty much minutely basis,."I mean, like what was going through your mind when you were turning, you know? What were you drawn to?"

"Allison."

"Okay, nothing else?" the other boy pleaded. There was no way he hadn't been expecting that answer. Wren was. Maybe he was just hopeful for something else. "Seriously?"

"You're disgustingly in love," Wren informed her werewolf friend, shaking her head. Allison was definitely starting to grow on her, but that didn't mean she needed to hear about her every second of every day. She was all Scott could talk about.

Scott shrugged, "Nothing else mattered. But, no, that's good though, right? 'Cause the night that Lydia was bit, she was with you."

Stiles groaned, looking down at the ground. "Yeah, but she was looking for Jackson."

Later that day, Wren walked into class and perked up when she saw Isaac sitting at his seat, his head down and looking at his paper while he doodled something in the corner. He still hadn't accepted her calls, but he couldn't decline her in person. She walked over to his desk, but when he looked up at her, she gasped.

"Oh, my God. What the hell happened?" she exclaimed when she saw the nasty black eye that he had. Once he made eye contact with her, he looked back down, ignoring her. "Really? We're doing this? I left you a million messages, Isaac. I'm really really sorry, and I wish I had a good explanation, but I don't. Just please tell me what happened. I'm worried about you."

"Bike," was all he answered, but she could tell that he might very slowly be starting to forgive her.

Seeing as that was about the trillionth biking accident he had had, she decided to take matters into her own hands. She clapped her hands together. "Okay, that's it. No more bike riding. I'm driving you home today."

"No, no, no, no." That got a reaction out of him. His head whipped over to her, and his eyes were wide. She was taken aback by the response, but she just assumed he was trying to be nice and didn't want to inconvenience her.

She just countered in the same voice. "Yes, yes, yes, yes."

So, that was how she ended up driving him home that day. Over the course of the ride, they ended up reconciling after she said she was an awful person about a million times. Finally, he told her to stop and let him out. She furrowed her eyebrows, pointing to the end of the street. "I thought you lived up here."

"Yeah, but my dad won't be happy if he sees you, so you can just let me out here," he replied, getting ready to open the door and get out.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, locking the door so that he couldn't get out and continuing to pull forward. She had humbled many a many in her time, partly because she had no filter and partly because she hated men with egos, so she was sure she could take him. "He can't be more of a bitch than I am."

He assured her, "No, it's really okay."

"Well, too bad. We're already here," she replied, turning into his driveway. Almost immediately, a man stepped out of the front door and began walking to the car. Isaac slowly gathered his things and climbed out of the car, and Wren put on her best smile.

The man approached the vehicle, glancing at his son before leaning into the open passenger window. "Who's this? Your girlfriend?"

"Wren Carter," she replied, offering her hand for him to shake. He took it and shook it firmly, something that would intimidate most people, but Wren wasn't phased. "Just thought I'd drive Isaac home today since he keeps getting in accidents on his bike."

"Well, that's very kind of you, Miss Carter," he replied. He looked back at Isaac, who was just staring at his feet, before turning back to her. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

Isaac's head shot up, and Wren furrowed her eyebrows when she saw the fear in his eyes. He made eye contact with her and shook his head frantically, but she was honestly feeling slightly pressured by the man just smiling at her. She nodded slowly. "I'd love to."

"Great. Come on inside," he told her, and he led the way while Isaac waited for her to get out of the car. She tried to raise her eyebrows at him and ask him why he was so freaked out, but he just stared forward as he walked.

They went inside and sat down for dinner, and there was a strange tension in the room that made Wren really uncomfortable. The silence was loud, and she almost jumped when Mr. Lahey asked his son about his grades. Isaac flinched as well, but he quickly recovered. "Um... so far it's an A in French and a B-minus in Econ."

"Oh. What about Chemistry?" the man questioned.

"I'm not sure," Isaac replied evasively, and Wren figured that he didn't have the best grade in the class. She was great at chemistry, but she sucked in almost everything else. So, she would be able to help him out with that. "Uh, midterms are in a few days, so it could go up..."

She glanced nervously between the father and son as the older Lahey asked, "Well, what's it at now?"

"I just told you, I don't know," Isaac insisted, but everyone in the room knew he was lying. Wren couldn't decide if she should defend him or just stay as silent as possible. She was scared for him, and she just had no clue what to do. She had been so confident going into this dinner, and that confidence had been drained the second she stepped into the house.

"You wanna take this little conversation downstairs?" Mr. Lahey quizzed warningly, banging his fork on the table and causing both of the teenagers to flinch. Isaac shook his head, looking down at his food. "Then tell me the grade, son."

Wren cut in, "I'm happy to work with him."

"Dad, the semester's only half over—" Isaac started, but when his father slammed his hand once again, he finally answered. "It's — it's a D."

"All right. It's a D. I'm not angry. You know, I'm gonna have to find a way to punish you, though. You know, I have my responsibility as a parent," Mr. Lahey explained, and Wren held her breath in fear. She was beginning to piece together everything, and she had an extremely strong suspicion that the bike accidents weren't bike accidents. "So, we'll start with something simple, like, uh... Tell you what —you do the dishes and you clean up the kitchen once Wren is gone, okay?"

"Yeah," Isaac sighed in relief, and Wren let out her breath. She had been prepared to throw herself in front of Isaac in case things got too heated. He wouldn't hit a teenage girl, right? And if he did, she would honestly rather it be her than him.

"Good! Because I-I'd really like to see this place spotless," the older Lahey chuckled out, and just when Wren thought the coast was clear, he took a sip from his mug and then threw it to the side so that it shattered behind her. She flinched violently, and her gaze shifted to Isaac to see him terrified. "Know what I'm saying? You know? I mean, this entire kitchen. Yeah!"

He slammed his hands on the plates on the table, and Isaac flew out of his seat and toward the wall, cowering in fear. Wren slid her chair back from the table. She had been shot, she had faced werewolves and hunters, she had stared death in the eye, and she had still never been more scared of someone.

"Yeah, absolutely..." he trailed off, picking up the bowl from the table and chucking it at the spot above Isaac's head. Wren's hands flew to her mouth as it shattered over him, and she stood up from the chair. "...spotless!"

"Oh, my God," she muttered shakily, and she was too stunned to move. She would look back on that moment and regret not doing anything, but she had honestly been petrified with fear.

Isaac slowly looked up, and she was on the verge of tears when she saw the blood dripping from a cut below his eye. He was in shock as he pulled the glass shard out of it. Mr. Lahey scoffed, "...Well, that was your fault."

"You could have blinded him!" Wren shouted, finally standing up for the boy. His cold gaze turned onto her, and it sent shivers down her spine.

He responded exasperatedly, "Shut up! It's a scratch! It's hardly even..." But then he trailed off, looking at his son with a confused expression. Wren followed his gaze to see that the blood from Isaac's cut was retreating back into his skin, and the wound was closing up.

Using this distraction as an opportunity, Wren grabbed her plate and threw it as hard as she could at the man. He ducked behind the table quickly, but it gave her enough time to grab Isaac's wrist and tug him toward the door. They were in her car in seconds, and down the street in less than a minute.

They drove in silence for a minute, both a bit shell shocked. Wren was breathing heavily, and she honestly had no destination in mind. Her only plan was to put as much distance between them and that house as possible. Finally, when they had been driving for a second, she breathed out, "We can go to my house."

"No! No!" he exclaimed, shaking his head. He looked out the window and pointed at a spot in front of them. "Here, just let me out in this alley, and I can spend the night at my friend's house. He doesn't live far from here."

"Let me take you," she insisted. She wasn't the smartest, but she knew better than to leave him in a dark alley with nothing but his bike hat was still in the trunk.

He said, "No, it's okay. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked. She didn't want to push because the last time she refused to drop him off where he wanted, it didn't end well for either of them.

Isaac nodded, and as she slowed, he was already unbuckling his seatbelt and climbing out of the car. "Yeah, thanks for everything, Wren."

"Text me when you make it there," she ordered, and he gave her a thumbs up before getting his bike out and peddling down the street. She watched him for a bit to make sure that he didn't get snatched, and then she turned around and headed toward the police station because she needed to report what just happened.

She was almost there when something ran in front of her car. No, not something. Someone. A very naked someone with red hair and mascara smeared down her cheeks. She whipped around at the sound of screeching tires, and their eyes met in shock.

"Oh, my God. Lydia."