Melissa's fake crying when she found out Scott was 'dead' destroyed me. Like, I know she knew it wasn't real and stuff, but wow.

Question of the Chapter: If Teen Wolf were to return, would you want the old cast back, or a new generation. Kinda like 'Skins' does, I guess.

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Melissa walked into the morgue, wiping away her crocodile tears.

"I must say, that was rather impressive. If nursing gets boring, I think you have a future in the arts, Melissa," I told her, trying to lighten the mood. This was considerably hard to do in a morgue.

She attempted a smile, which immediately fell as soon as she saw her son lying on the metal slab in front of us.
"I still hate this plan. I mean this is pretty significantly terrifying. He looks dead."

"Give me your hand," Kira's mum told the woman, holding out her own.

When Melissa looked to Stiles, the boy nodded, "It's okay."

Melissa did as told, allowing Noshiko to place her hand on her sons chest, waiting for a beat. When she jumped, I figured she had felt the beat, a small smile reaching her lips.
"Is that enough to keep a werewolf alive?"

"Enough for an Alpha," Noshiko confirmed.

"How much time do we have?"

"Forty-five minutes."

"What happens after that?"

"I bring him back the same way," Kira informed the woman, looking nervous.

"No, I mean what happens if he stays like this longer than forty-five minutes."

Kira's mum looked around at all of us, eyes narrowed. "No one's told her?"

"What?" Melissa asked firmly. "What happens after forty-five minutes?"

"He dies."

Melissa looked at all of us, eyes wide as she made eye contact with each of us. None of us were brave enough to admit that we held back this particular part of the plan.

♧♤♢♡

"Are you sure you guys can manage this?" I asked Stiles as we stood at the hospital door. I had received a text from Malia saying that she wanted to go back to the vault to try and get some answers about her biological parents.

I was hesitant at first, because I didn't want her to feel like she could trust Peter. She countered this with the fact that I knew who my parents were and couldn't tell her she wasn't allowed to do the same.

"Don't worry," he said with a small smile. "I'll make sure to keep you updated."

I put a hand on either of his shoulders, using them to draw myself up to him, kissing him. My hands went further, arms wrapping around his neck as he deepened the kiss.

Our lips moved in unison, fitting together perfectly. To think I had almost given this up over someone like Peter baffled me.

Thoughts of Malia brought me back, disconnecting from Stiles. I took a moment to catch my breath, lips pursed as I looked up at him.
"Would your dad mind if I stayed over tonight? I don't want to be alone."

He shook his head quickly, "Of course not. I'll let him know."

"Great. I'll see you later, then," I said, kissing him on the cheek before heading out the door and getting in my car.

I was worried about Scott, don't get me wrong. But Malia was my friend also; and not just my friend, but my sister. And she needed me right now.

When I arrived at the school she was already back in the vault, going through its contents slowly.
"Hey, did you find anything?" I asked as I went up and gave her a short hug.

"Not yet," she sighed. "I think whatever it is might be in the vault."

"Let's crack it open then," I said without hesitation.

Malia walked over, gripping the handle before pulling at it. It took a moment, the girl grunting as she did so, before she ripped the handle off, dropping it to the ground.

Opening the safe slowly, she grabbed the folder sitting on top. On the front was written 'Malia Tate - Adoption Records'.

I felt horrible reading it. At least I grew up with one of my biological parents; Malia was finding out that both of the people she thought were her birth parents weren't.

They were still her parents, but things felt different and she wanted answers.

She was about to open the folder, when we both heard footsteps. Turning around, we both saw our father standing in the door way, looking slightly bothered.
"I've gotta buy a better safe," he huffed, shoulders rising and falling in exasperation.

I sidestepped to stand by Malia, holding my ground as I watched the man. I had seen too much to trust him without knowing if he had changed or not.

"I can't let you leave here with that," Peter informed us.

I shrugged, "We didn't plan on asking."

"Is that right?"

"I think we can take you," Malia said with a smirk.

He nodded, "You've heard rumours I'm not as strong as I used to be."

"Something like that."

Not looking away from either of us, Peter raised a hand and punched it forward, smashing right through a column.

Malia stumbled at this, holding out the papers to the man. I raised my hand, placing it on her arm to get her to take them back.
"We've dealt with worse than you."

Peter let his head fall to the side. "Don't worry, Riley. I said that you can't leave with it. I didn't say you couldn't read it."

Malia froze for a moment, making sure that he wasn't screwing with her or lying. When he didn't say anything, she opened the folder.

There were only two pieces of paper in there. On the left was the girl's birth certificate with a photo of her as a newborn. On the right was the adoption document with a stamp saying that it had been approved. This one was a bit hard to read, however, considering there was a hole lined with blood right in the middle.

Malia shut the folder, seeming disappointed.

"You wanna talk about it?" Peter asked. I couldn't tell whether or not he was being sincere. "See a family counsellor?"

"There's nothing in there," Malia shrugged.

"Cost me a lost of money to get that file. I mean, I already knew about Riley, but I went the extra length to get those records of you."

"If I'm supposed to be offended, you're sorely mistaken," I informed him, crossing my arms in front of myself.

Malia hooked her arm with mine, leading us both towards the exit. "You got ripped off," she told Peter as we walked past.

"You know what happens when you only hear one side of a story?" The man asked. "You've only heard one side of the story."

"What a revelation," I scoffed. I took Malia's hand trying to lead her to the door. "Come on. You don't need him. Neither of us do."

She didn't move very far, her gaze not leaving Peter. She then looked down at me, nervousness clear on her face, "I need to know, Ri."

I wanted to disagree, but I knew she wasn't going to give up on this. "Okay. But if he tries anything, we're out of here."

Malia nodded gently, before turning back to Peter. She looked like she was unsure of where to start.
"You murdered people. Not killed. Murdered."

Probably a good thing to get out of the way.

"There were extenuating circumstances," Peter replied simply.

"Like what? The fire?"

Peter nodded, "A fire that nearly burned me alive. Six years in a coma. Do you know what that's like for one of us? It's not a pleasant sleep. Imagine it. Being trapped in your body but still being fully cognisant. Unable to do anything other than listen to your own thoughts slowly driving you absolutely and totally insane, minute-by-minute, day-by-day.

"Yes, I've done horrible, terrible things. And so have a lot of people. And horrible, terrible things are going to keep happening. Especially when there is a Deadpool with both of your names on it."

"But not yours," Malia responded.

This made Peter pause, taking a step back and realising how this seems from our point of view. "True. But I am not the Benefactor."

"And we're just supposed to trust you?" I asked, the disbelief thick on my voice.

His lips formed a line as he lolled his head, "I'm just a guy who's out millions of dollars, Riley. A few thousand of which I used trying to help your sister."

"Me?" Malia asked, confused.

"How does the bad guy prove that he's not bad? By doing an act of kindness."

"Why don't you just give us a straight answer, okay?" I sighed. "What did you do?"

"Obviously, your mother is your mother, Riley. So, I'm going to help you find your mother, Malia," he said, looking at the girl. I heard her gulp nervously; she wanted to know who her mother was.
"I'm pretty interested myself as the memory was stolen from me by my sister, Talia."

"Okay," Malia replied, a slight eagerness to her voice. "What did you find?"

"A woman, might be her. I don't have a name yet, just a particularly interesting alias. She's called the Desert Wolf. Do you know what that means?"

Malia's smirk had fallen as she looked at the man, growing serious. "Coyote."

♧♤♢♡

Malia and I had left soon after, getting into my car so I could drive her home. Malia was never super talkative, but right now, she was being overly quiet.

"Are you sure we should be communicating with Peter?" I asked carefully. "I've know him for a while now, Mal, and from what I've seen, he's not a trustworthy person."

"I know that, Ri," she shot back. "But if he can help me find my mother, then I don't think I care."

I noticed the look on her face. She was worried about who her mother was. If her father was this bad, what was her mother?
"You're not like him, you know," I reminded her. "Neither of us are."

"Maybe I am," she shrugged. "There's something I didn't tell you about the accident."

"The one where you lost control?"

Malia nodded. "Before we got in the car, my mother- my adoptive mother, I guess. . . we got into a huge fight. I don't even remember what it was about, but. . . I remember what I said. I said, 'I wish you were all dead'."

"Malia, you were just a kid. No one actually means it when they say shit like that. Killing doesn't run in the family."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you, and you're not a killer, okay?"

She didn't say anything as we arrived at her house, pulling into the drive way. "Are you sure you don't want to stay at my place tonight?"

Malia nodded, grabbing her bag as she opened the door. "I need to talk to my dad."

"Okay," I nodded. "I'll call you tomorrow."

♧♤♢♡

After getting a text from Stiles informing me that Scott was okay and that Kira was staying with him to make sure what she'd done had worked, I went straight to my boyfriend's house. It had been a long day, and I wanted nothing more than to just feel his arms around me.

The next day, Stiles and I were in his room, studying together on his bed. Even throughout everything that was going on, we still needed to pass our classes. Sheriff Stilinski had already gone to work, so the house was quiet, the two of us being the only ones there.

We had been writing homework assignments all morning, waiting to hear back from anyone about anything to do with the Benefactor. So far, nothing.

I also hadn't heard back from Malia. She said she wanted some time alone, and I wasn't going to be the one to deny her that.

"What're you thinking about?" Stiles asked softly, lowering the highlighter he has been chewing on.

"School. Malia. The Benefactor. The Pack. Us," I answered honestly. I noticed his heart rate spike for a moment, and I smiled to myself.

"What about us?" he asked slowly, that one word catching his attention.

I grinned as I looked up from my book. "How I'm so glad that you're alive; that I stopped being stubborn; that we got together in the first place."

"You know me, I'm super persistent. Definitely hard to kill," he replied gently with a laugh. "And yes. . . you are superbly stubborn."

I shoved his arm with a small laugh, before my smile fell. "That was dangerous what you did at the school, Stiles."

He gave me a look as he glanced over at me. "That is definitely the pot calling the kettle black. But I got the antidote, and I would do it a thousand times over if it meant saving your life."

"You're a real smooth talker when you want to be, Stilinski," I told him, biting my lip.

"You make me a nervous wreck," he blushed as he chuckled, staring down at his hands. "But, I'd do anything for you."

I felt my heart swell as I looked into his eyes. "Well, I'm glad to hear that, because if something happens, I need someone to throw to the wolves."

"You had to go and ruin the moment," he laughed, rolling his eyes. "And is that literal, or a figure of speech?"

"Why do you think I keep you around?" I chuckled.

His laugh caused my breath to catch in my throat. The way he was looking at me made me feel as if I could melt. "Wow, and here I was thinking I was just here as eye candy?"

Putting my pen down, I frowned as I tried to hold myself together, a smile threatening to ruin it.
"That's funny, I thought that's why you kept me around? Supernatural trophy girlfriend?"

"Oh, for sure," he winked, pushing his books away and leading me over to him. I was shocked by how forward he was being, but I went with it. I found myself straddling his lap as I looped my arms around his neck. He ran a hand through my hair, stopping it on my cheek as he looked into my eyes.
"It definitely has nothing to do with the fact that I am completely. . . totally. . . desperately in love with you," he whispered, his words sending a pleasant chill down my spine.

A smile tugged at my lips as I moved a hand to the side of his face, kissing him softly. "I love you so much," I mumbled against his lips after pulling away.

His cheek warmed beneath my palm, his heart rate speeding up just enough to make it noticeable. My eyes fell to see his hands were now hovering just above the bed, seemingly unsure of where to put them. Biting my lower lip, I took his hands in my own and placed them on my hips.

Stiles' wide eyes met mine as I closed his fingers around the hem of my shirt. Steadily, he lifted the piece of clothing over my head and dropped it to the floor of his bedroom.

My fingers trailed along the hem of his shirt, looking to him to ask if it was okay. He almost scoffed as he nodded his head, still looking a bit nervous.

He leaned forward off of the headboard of his bed so that I was able to remove his shirt, throwing it down beside my own. I placed my hands on his chest, feeling how warm he was. Moving a hand to the back of his neck, we met in the middle, kissing almost feverishly.

The air around me swirled tentatively, shifting my hair and cooling my skin. I saw Stiles watching me, and could only assume my eyes were glowing.
"Sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes.

"Don't," He said, cupping the side of my face, softly letting his thumb trail up and down my cheek. "Don't apologise for who you are. Not to me; not to anyone."

Stiles' words didn't cause the air to stop, but I could've sworn my heart nearly did. His hand fell back to my hip, before he reconnected his lips to my own.

My chest felt tight for a moment as his hands moved across the surface of my skin, thoughts of Void threatening to break through. But I focused on Stiles, the feel of his hands gripping my hips and his lips on mine. Nothing else mattered.

Separating from him, I climbed off of him and off of his bed to turn and see him pouting sadly. I held my breath in thought for a moment, before unbuttoning my jeans and removing them. I stepped out of them, feeling slightly self-conscious in just my bra and underwear.

Stiles immediately stopped pouting, his jaw almost hitting the floor. He recovered quickly, fumbling past our school books to slide to the side of his bed, standing up to stare at me.

"This was stupid," I mumbled quietly when he didn't say anything, reaching for my clothes.

He shook his head rapidly, "No. Sorry. It's just. . . I've never had a girl in my room. . . I mean, you've been in my room. . . I just haven't had a girl in my room who wasn't wearing her clothes and. . ."

I bit the inside of my cheek with a small laugh, my arms crossing in front of my chest.

His eyes watched me for a moment, looking at me. "And you're- you're so beautiful."

My heart fluttered at his words, chest tightening again as I took a breath, avoiding his eyes.

Taking a careful step forward, Stiles took my hands in his own so I wasn't covering myself, his way of telling me that I didn't have to. To my shock, he put his hands back on my waist without me leading him and pulled me towards him, kissing me passionately.

I felt his hands travel lower than my waist, his touch light. Wherever his skin met mine felt like electricity and I was worried I was going to open my eyes and realise it was all a dream.

He gently lifted me enough that I had to go on the tips of my toes. Kissing him roughly, I ran my hands through his hair, causing a moan to slip from his lips.

My hair wavered around my shoulders as my abilities jolted in reaction to the noise. I'd never heard him make that sound before, let alone it be caused by something I did.

Again, Void memories tried to ruin things like they had so many time before. But I wasn't going to let them do it again.

Stiles had given me the time to find myself again, and right now at this moment, I'd never felt more in control.

When he let go, I got worried again, but ended up laughing when I saw him quickly clearing the books from his bed.
Stiles then turned back to me, taking my hands and leading me back to his bed. He laid me down as he continued to kiss me, keeping himself above me by balancing his weight on one elbow.

Reaching a hand down, I stopped kissing him to make sure I had his consent. When he nodded quickly, I unbuttoned his trousers.

I was about to help him take them off, when he grabbed my hand gently, searching my face. "Are you sure you want to? If you're not ready, that's okay."

There wasn't much to think about. I loved Stiles, and he loved me. I couldn't think of anyone else I'd rather be with in that moment.

Air pulsed around the room to the rhythm of my heart, attempting to help me catch my breath. Pursing my lips as I ran a hand down the side of his face, I nodded. "You're one of the only things I've ever been completely sure about, Stiles. I want to do this."

And then for the first time in months, my body didn't flinch, and I didn't hesitate.