-DISCLAIMER-

I do NOT own Teen Wolf

Comment, vote, fan, and let me know what you're thinking!

Question of the Chapter: Whose dress was your favorite in the formal episode?

----------

Walking through the halls lined with balloons, I had time to pull myself together. Seeing Stiles with Lydia was one thing. Listening to him call her beautiful; that was a whole other ball game.

Once I reached the gym doors I took a deep breath, before pushing them open and walking into the room.

It looked just as good as the exterior of the building.

There was a large disco ball hanging from the roof, light reflecting off of it, sending spots around the room. There were also colored fabric drapes hanging from the roof, and tables that light up were specked around the room. The band was set up on a stage at the front playing some random pop song.

I headed over to one of the drink tables wanting to hold something to hopefully give my shaking hands something else to do. I grabbed a cup and filled it with punch, when I noticed Jackson on the other side, spiking Danny and his boyfriend's drinks for them.

The bottle was filled with a clear liquid, but I couldn't read the label from where I was standing.

I pushed my cup out towards him, bobbing my head to gesture to the cup. "Would you mind?"

He narrowed his eyes, examining me. He looked like he's trying to decide, but didn't seem to trust me all that much. "What? You're not gonna snitch?"

Shaking my head, I walked around the table to stand beside him, he was still looking at me cautiously. I sighed and let my head loll to the side, "No. Because, right now, I just really need a drink. And you, unfortunately, seem to be the only one providing a suitable beverage here. So, yes or no?"

He went to pour the alcohol, but then stopped. I make a whining sound, looking up at him, confusion on my face.

"I'll only give you some, if you tell me why you need it so badly."

Blackmail. True Jackson Whittemore fashion.

I couldn't tell him why, because even if he knew about Scott, there's a lot of other stuff that he didn't know. And that stuff, was really none of his business. So, I decided to do the only thing I could; be as vague as humanly possible.

I scanned the area, making sure none of my friends were close enough to see or hear me. When I was satisfied that they weren't in the near vicinity, I turned back to Jackson. "There are just a lot of things I'd like to forget, and certain things I don't want to see. Just for one night. I just need one night off."

Werewolves, hunters, murderous Alphas . . . Stiles.

I took a deep breath, before saying something to him that I never thought I would say in a million years. "Please, Jackson."

I know we're supposed to be protecting Allison, but it was just becoming too much. I wanted to have one fun night, before it was back to the crazy life I lead. Even if I wouldn't remember it the next day.

Jackson almost looked sympathetic, as he poured the clear liquor into my cup. The smell was strong, yet welcoming, as it began to dilute the color of the punch that was in my cup.

"I get what you mean," Jackson muttered, almost so low it could've been considered a whisper.

I didn't actually expect him to give me any, if I'm honest. He was obviously already drunk, that's the only explanation I could come up with for why he's being so nice to me.

Or maybe, he's not always a tool. It was a nice thought.

I gave him my gratitude, before I retreated to the bleachers, already sipping at the punch and whatever Jackson poured into my cup.

He had obviously poured in a fair bit because I could feel it warming my throat, slightly burning as it traveled down to my stomach.

Looking around, I saw Allison and Jackson standing around doing nothing, both of them looking bored out of their brains. Poor Allison, I knew she wanted to go with Scott, but their fight kind of killed any chance of that.

And then there's Stiles and Lydia, sitting at a table also looking bored also; Lydia more than Stiles. Stiles must've been disappointed; he finally got to go out with the girl of his dreams, and they're sitting there barely even talking.

Even though it looked like they were having a crap time, just seeing them made me feel so . . . ugh.

Jackson's rich, so I was hoping it'd be that really expensive stuff that would get me drunk fast. I'd nearly finished this first cup, but I wasn't feeling anything.

But maybe I was, I didn't know. I'd never drank before, so I didn't really have anything to compare it to.

"Riley?" I heard someone exclaim quietly from beside me. "Why are you up here all alone?"

I swivelled on the seat to look at the person. At first, I thought it was Isaac, and I got kind of excited. Finally, I could properly apologize. Or, just get my mind off of someone in particular.

But then I blinked a couple of times, only to come to the realization that it was Scott sitting beside me in the bleachers. "Hey, Scottie," I said in the saddest tone I possibly could.

I wonder if Isaac was here somewhere? Probably not, it's not really his scene. But, I wish it was. I wanted to talk to him. We didn't end things on the best note, and I didn't want him to just be gone from my life. We went through too much to have it just end like that.

His eyes squinted, "Are you drunk?"

I inspected my empty cup, groaning heavily, "I wish I was."

"Riley," Scott sighed, "We're at formal, why would you want to try and get drunk?"

There were multiple reasons why I would want to get drunk at formal. Multiple reasons, which I was not going to delve into right then.
"Because, I want to."

He slid closer so that he could whisper to me, "Is this about Stiles and Lydia being here together?"

I immediately stiffened at his words. Shaking my head, I slumped down and began to run a finger around the lip of the cup, not wanting to look at him.
"If you're asking for a 'you were right, I was wrong' then why can't you just be a normal person and say 'I told you so'?" I mumbled, wanting more of whatever Jackson gave me. The amount in that first cup obviously wasn't enough.

Scott grabbed the cup out my hands, making me look at him. "I'm not going to say 'I told you so', even if I did. I might later, when you're in a better mood," He chuckled. When I didn't respond, he cleared his throat before asking, "Who gave you alcohol?"

"That would be none of your business," I muttered, starting to chip away at the fresh coat of nail polish I applied only a couple of hours ago especially for the formal.

Scott went quiet, so I followed his gaze. Allison and Jackson were now dancing together.

"I bet that's bugging you," I laughed quietly, examining his facial expression.

Clenching his jaw, Scott shook his head. He tried to get me to go down and dance with everyone, but I wouldn't allow it. I wasn't going to be that person dancing alone amongst all the couples.

After several more attempts, he gave up, and decided to try and get me to leave the formal altogether. I giggled as Scott tried to lift me to my feet. Considering he's a werewolf this should have been a cakewalk, but I was not making it easy for him.

Eventually though, his attempts were no longer funny, but rather annoying.

"No," I said firmly. "I'm not going. This is the formal, and I'm not missing the formal."

"Yes, I'm getting you out of here," He instructed, picking me up properly this time. "You don't need to sit here and watch that happen."

I let my head fall to the side, "Watch what happen?" Leaning over Scott's shoulder, I peered down at the dance floor. Lydia and Stiles were now dancing together.
I felt my heart drop, "Oh."

"Come on, let's get you out of here."

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. "No. N-no, Scott. I-I'm not leaving. N-not yet." I only just managed to get it out, stuttering through the entire thing, trying not to pay too much attention to Stiles and his date.
"Why didn't I realize sooner? Why didn't you tell me sooner?" I cried out.

Scott looked sympathetic, his facial expression saddening. "Riley, come on, let's go. You shouldn't be here, it's stressing you out, and I can hear your heart beat speeding up."

At that point, I had had it. I wasn't leaving the formal.
"Then just stop listening to it, and leave me alone!" I yelled fairly loudly.

This caught the attention of Coach, who was beginning to walk towards us. "McCall! I see you! Come here, buddy!"

Scott grabbed my hand, "Riley, come on."

I ripped my hand away, "No. You're the one who's not supposed to be here, not me."

"Come here! McCall!" Coach yelled. Scott looked at me a second longer, but knew it was no use, so he ran. "Get out of my way. McCall! It's a small gym, buddy. I'm gonna find you. I got you, McCall! Come here, come here! Get outta my way! McCall!"

This was very entertaining to watch.

Scott ended up standing in front of Danny. Since he wasn't shouting like Coach, though, I couldn't hear what he was saying.
Suddenly, Scott had his arms wrapped around Danny's neck, pretending to dance with the boy.

Chuckling, I moved down to the bottom row of bleachers so that I could hear what was going on better.

Coach finally caught up to him, "McCall! You're not supposed to . . . What the hell are you . . ."

The music cut off, and everyone was standing there staring at the scene that was unfolding before them.

"What the hell are you doing?" Coach asked Scott, his face scrunching in confusion.

Scott then moved closer to Danny, really selling the whole gay dance partner thing. "Yes, Coach?"

"Okay . . ." Coach began to laugh nervously, putting his hands up defensively. "Hold on, you . . . I was just saying he's not supposed to . . . I mean, I wasn't saying that he shouldn't . . . You guys don't think . . . You don't . . . I . . . I was . . . Just dance, everybody. Just dance! It's a dance! It's a party!" Coach then - smartly - walked away before he could dig himself any deeper.

All the other students went back to minding their own business, and the band started playing again.

Scott was pretty conniving, I'd give him that. He went straight to Allison, which was too far for me to be able to listen in on.

I wish I still had my cup. I wish that first drink had been enough to get me at least tipsy. Unfortunately, it didn't, so now I was stuck watching Stiles and Lydia and everyone else have a good time sober.

I could tell now that I wasn't drunk, if I was, I wouldn't care so much that Lydia had her arms around Stiles.

I figured that I was just sad, but it didn't matter, because I was finally beginning to feel numb anyway; which was what I had wanted in the first place.

It's a nice feeling, because then I'm not thinking about my problems so much. Both my supernatural, and normal human girl problems, had finally began to drain away.

Scott and Allison were dancing, smiling, having a good time. Lydia and Jackson though, were no where to be found; and Stiles was all alone on the dance floor.

Where would Lydia and Jackson have gone? The only part of the school used for the dance is the gym, and they're not in here.

Maybe this was my chance. Maybe tonight could be my Cinderella story. To talk to Stiles, and tell him how I felt.

I picked up my handbag, slung it over my shoulder, and rushed down to the dance floor, heading straight for Stiles. He was looking at his phone, a worn expression on his face.

Gathering all my courage, I tapped his shoulder, making him lift his eyes away from his phone.

"I-I need to talk to you," I sputtered nervously. I could feel my heart beat speeding up, and I was thankful that Stiles wasn't a werewolf also. If he could hear how fast it was going, he would be just as nervous as I was.

Stiles was rapidly tapping on the screen of his phone, texting I'm assuming. "Riley, I can't-"

I held a hand up to get him to stop talking. I could see my hand was shaking, so I pulled it back down to my side. I had avoided this subject too long. My feelings for Stiles had been there for longer then I even realized, but now that I knew, all I wanted was for him to feel the same way.

Was that crazy?

Probably; but I'm so close to telling him, that I don't care.

"No, I can't keep waiting. I need to talk to you Stiles, I need to tell you that-"

"Riley, I can't get in touch with anyone, okay? I think we have more important issues to deal with at the moment," Stiles said, effectively cutting me off.

He walked away, heading to the door. I followed behind him quickly, shocked at how easily he had blown me off.

As soon as we exited the gym, we ran into Jackson, who looked completely trashed. His face was pale and drained, and his eyes were wide with shock. Or maybe it was fear; I had never seen Jackson scared before, so it was hard to tell.

"Where the hell have you been?" Stiles asked Jackson, clearly pissed with him. "Did Lydia ever find you?"

And back to Lydia.
Why couldn't I just be honest with him? Why was it so difficult? It shouldn't have to be.

Jackson sighed, opening his mouth a couple of times to say something, but just ended up looking away every time. He was sweating, his hands fidgeting. Something was obviously bothering him.

"Jackson," I stepped forward so I was beside Stiles instead of behind him. "What's going on with you? What happened?"

He shook his head, groaning and stammering. "I was out behind the school, and I . . . I was out . . ." His mouth clamped shut, eyes drifting away from Stiles and I.

Stiles narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw, "What happened?"

When Jackson didn't answer, he pushed further. "Jackson. What did you do?"

He still didn't answer, just stood there, obliviously staring straight at the ground.

"Stiles, we're wasting our time here. Let's just go find Lydia, because I really need to talk to you, okay?"

I looked back at every moment I spent with Scott and Stiles, and I saw what Scott was telling me. I don't know how to explain it, but moments with them both separately always felt different.

Scott and I, I knew we're friends. With Stiles though, something always felt . . . I don't even know. I ignored it because I figured, he's a different person so of course things won't be the same, but I've never felt the way I feel with Stiles about anyone else.

And I know that makes me sound awful, since I dated Isaac, but it's the truth. And maybe I was finally ready to see that.

"Okay, yeah, you're right, let's go," Stiles nodded, walking out the door without a second thought.

We left Jackson standing alone in the hallway, stepping out into the cool afternoon breeze.

"Do you have any idea where she could have gone?" I asked, my eyes scanning the area for any sign of Lydia.

He shook his head as he began to worry more.
"I- I- I don't know." He ran a hand over his head, beginning to breathe faster.

I turned to look at him, but that's when I noticed it. The lights on the lacrosse field, they were on.
They shouldn't be.

"Stiles," I lifted a hand and pointed to the field. "The floodlights are on. Do you think Lydia could be down there?"

He didn't bother to respond, he just ran in that direction as fast as he could. I followed as closely as I possible, with a lot of difficulty since I was wearing heels.

"Lydia!" I heard Stiles scream. "Run!"

Speeding up, I got to the field just in time to see Lydia collapse to the ground, covered in blood. "Lydia!" I shrieked.

Stiles fell down beside her as the Alpha hovered above her, blood on his face. I continued to run until I was standing just behind Stiles, cautious not to get too close to the Alpha.

Stiles went to grab Lydia a couple of times, but never got close enough to do anything. "Don't kill her," Stiles almost begged. "Please."

Peter seemed to consider, humming to himself as the blood trailed down his chin, waving his hands around, claws extended. "Of course not. Just tell me how to find Derek."

Stiles looked shocked at Peter's request, as was I.
"Really?" I breathed out. "You're a werewolf, find him yourself."

Peter ran a claw down Lydia's face. "If I could, don't you think I would? Now, one of you tell me how to find Derek Hale."

Stiles began to stammer, freaking out. "We don't know that. How would we know that?"

Peter looked up, an evil glint in his eyes, "Because you're the clever one, aren't you, Stiles? And because deception has a particularly acrid scent. Tell me the truth, or I will rip her apart."

"Look . . . Look, I don't know, okay?" Stiles stuttered, his voice beginning to rise in panic. "I swear to God, I have no idea."

"Tell me!" The Alpha growls, his voice lowering as he yell at Stiles.

I dropped down by his side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Stiles, please, just tell him. He's going to hurt her if you don't," I whispered, not wanting anything to happen to either him or Lydia.

Stiles was shaking, his anxiety entirely getting the better of him.
"Okay, okay, okay, look, I . . . I think he knew . . ."

"Knew what?" Peter snarled, the blood on his chin beginning to dry.

Stiles looked up from Lydia, staring at Peter. "Derek, I think he . . . I think he knew he was gonna be caught."

"By the Argents?" Peter clarified.

"Yeah," Stiles muttered.

"And?"

Stiles looked away, his train of thought working in overdrive. How was he thinking right now? My heart was going a million miles per hour, I could barely sit next to him without wanting to just run.

"When they were shot," He breathed out, "He and Scott he . . . I think he took Scott's phone."

I'd almost forgotten about that. Scott couldn't find his phone; and maybe, just maybe, that's because Derek stole it. What a smart Beta.

Peter lolled his head to the side, "Why?"

He sounded so condescending all the time, yet he was still really freaking me out, especially since he still had his claws out.

The wind was beginning to pick up, cooling my hot skin, slowing my heart down somewhat, and helping me to breathe.

"They all have GPS now," Stiles explained. "So if he still has it and if it's still on . . ." He looked up at the Alpha, his whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind, "You can find him."

Peter smiled, rising to his feet, wiping the blood from his face with a hanker chief. "Thank you for your help. Now, you're both coming with me. We have a wolf to find."

"Hell no," I cried. "We aren't going anywhere with you. You're insane!"

Peter looked at me, rage in his eyes. He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to my feet. "Both of you. Now."

Stiles shook his head, focusing on Lydia still, his eyes wide. "No, I'm . . . I'm not just letting you leave her here."

His claws began to dig into my wrist, blood starting to bead around them. "You don't have a choice, Stiles. You're coming with me. And if you don't, I'll kill them both."

"Just kill me. Look, I don't care anymore."
I knew who he was mainly referring to when he used those words, but it didn't stop my heart from skipping a beat.

With the hand that he wasn't using to draw blood from me, he held claws beneath Stiles chin, forcing him to stand so that he wouldn't end up with those claws in his throat. Stiles was breathing quickly, trying and failing to calm down.

Peter began to dig further into my wrist, lowering his hand slowly from Stiles' neck. "Call your friend. Tell Jackson where she is. That's all you get."

Stiles pulled out his phone, about to dial, when his eyes squinted in confusion. "'She'? Don't you mean 'they'?"

Peter chuckled lowly, "No, I meant she," He nodded to Lydia. "Miss Winter's will be coming with us. I need some leverage, after all."

"No way, she stays. I'm not gonna let you-"

I screamed in pain as Peter dug his claws further into my wrist. It felt as if he might have actually been scratching my bone at that point; that's how far he had gone. I collapsed to my knees, my wrist still in his grasp.

"Alright, alright, stop!" Stiles shouted, putting his hands up. "Please, stop!"

Peter detached himself from me, cleaning his claws off on the hanker chief he had previously used to wipe the blood off of his face.

With a smirk, he looked up from his hands, "Shall we?"