I felt like that scene in the clinic took forever to write

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My friends need me.

That was the only thought going through my head as I drove away from my home. Well, that, and that Charlotte was going to kill me as soon as she laid eyes on me.

Now I stood in Derek's loft as Stiles began to go over the plan. I had no idea whether it would work, but I needed to support them either way.

I wanted to listen to him speak, but I was too distracted. On the spiral staircase in the corner sat Peter, the only person left living who knew what I was. That I was aware of at least.

My powers were already beginning to manifest within me, but I still felt the urge to know what I was. Who I am. Too understand why my mother thought I would be able to help Scott, and why she didn't tell me sooner.

But nothing with Peter was ever easy, which I learnt the last time I asked him.

My thoughts were interrupted by Stiles yelling and falling to the ground. "He could do it," he told us all as he stood up and walked around, cradling his wrist.

"I'll get through the wall," The Alpha stated.
Had Derek punched Stiles? Stiles cries from the background only lead me to believe that he had.
"Who's following me down?"

"Don't look at me," Peter tuned into the conversation. "I'm not up to fighting speed yet, and honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."

Wow, how optimistic.
"So I'm supposed to just let them die?" Derek asked in a way that the answer was blatantly clear.

"One of them is already dead," Peter shrugged.

Derek glared at him, "We don't know that."

"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here? A pack of Alphas. All of them killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant Alpha."
The twins who were there when my mother died, that had to be them.
"I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids. They're gonna be missed."

"Can someone kill him again, please?" Stiles asked what we were all thinking.

Putting my hand up, I nodded, "I second that."

"Derek, seriously, not worth the risk," Peter told his nephew.

Ignoring Peter, I turned to Derek. "I'm small enough to fit," I volunteered. "I could help."

"No offence," Derek started, "But I saw you at my house. I don't know what you are, but I do know you don't have complete control yet. I need certainty or we'll just be putting them at more risk."

He had no idea how hard I had trained while I was away. Just because I had let my emotions get to me that one time didn't mean that I had no control at all. Stiles had just thrown me off centre at Derek's. I wouldn't let my emotions get the better of me when it mattered.

Derek proceeded to turn away from me without waiting for a response, "What about you?"

Stiles shrugged, "Yeah, if you want me to come. . ."

"Not you," Derek was quick to cut him off.

"Scott," Stiles nodded.

Scott had been awfully quiet, content with listening to everyone maybe. So when he did speak, his voice was low, "I don't know about Erica. But if Boyd's still alive, we have to do something. We have to try."

He sounded like a leader. Like someone who I would be glad to follow into a battle like the one we're destined to face.

"But?" Derek added, knowing Scott well by now.

"Who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd."

"It doesn't matter," I butted in. "We help her too. We help anyone we can."

♡♢♤♧

Scott and Derek had left about an hour ago, leaving Stiles and I at the loft with Peter. We hadn't really made much conversation, given that the man was a psychotic killer, but there was still time.

I had to ask him what I was or I might not get another chance. Who knows, I wouldn't be surprised if Peter were to be killed tomorrow.

"I can't take waiting around like this, you know?" Stiles groaned from beside me. We were standing at the loft's large window, staring out at the full moon. It was glowing down on Beacon Hills providing an eerie natural light to the dull landscape.
"It's nerve-racking. My nerves are racked. They're severely racked. Racked."

"I could beat you unconscious and wake you when it's over," Peter offered from his spot on the couch.

I looked over and glared at him, but Stiles didn't seem phased. He had received many death threats throughout the time we've known about the supernatural.
"You think Erica's really dead?"

"You think I really care?"

Again, Stiles steamrolled right over the answer to the question he asked. "I just. . . I don't understand the bank, though, okay? Like, why wouldn't they chain them up in some underground lair or something? They're an Alpha pack, right? So shouldn't they have a lair?"

"Stiles, this is real life, not a movie," I reminded him as I placed a hand on his shoulder. I felt like he tried to relate our world to the worlds he saw on screens way too often.

"Okay," he said slowly, "But there's still something up with the bank. It's too random not to mean something. And why wait around for the full moon, huh? Why not just kill them whenever they want to?"

Peter was doing his best to ignore the boy, but it wasn't working for him. The best he was doing was closing his eyes. "Maybe they think it's poetic."

"They've already had three full moons to be poetic," the boy continued.

"And here you've only had one full hour to be so annoying. . ." I didn't need to cut him off this time, he did that himself, sitting up slowly and opening his eyes.

"No, go ahead, finish what you were saying," Stiles insisted. "I'm annoying. . . what were you gonna say there?"

"What are the walls made of?"

"What? Uh. . ." Stiles looked around the room. "I don't know, like, wood and brick or. . ."

I caught onto what Peter was thinking before Stiles, grabbing the boy's arm and walking him over to the table which held the blueprints for the bank.
"Not the apartment, Stiles. The vault."

Peter flipped through the large sheets of paper in search of what he was after, but came up with nothing.
"Where would it say the materials, the type of stone?" He asked Stiles.

Stiles thought for a moment, before rummaging through his bag for a specific item. "Yeah, here, hang on." He dropped a large stack of papers held together with a bullclip onto the table. "Here. It's gotta be in there."

We began to quickly skim through the pages, until Stiles spotted what Peter was after.
"Hecatolite," Peter read straight off the page.

Stiles straightened up to look at Peter, "Is that awful? That sounds awful."

"Get them on the phone. Call them. Now!"

The fact that Peter actually sounded concerned was what worried me the most, considering he was talking about leaving people to die less than two hours ago. It was his answer to Stiles asking why that made my heart sink.
"'Cause Boyd and that girl aren't gonna kill each other. They're gonna kill Derek and Scott."

Both Stiles and I grabbed our phones, desperately attempting to get a hold of Scott's mobile. Stiles got through to him first.

"Stiles, this is really not the best time," I heard Scott answer through Stiles' phone which was on speaker.

"Scott! Scott!" Stiles shouted, not caring what Scott had said. "No, listen to me, okay? Look you gotta get out of there. Look, the walls of the vault are made with a mineral called hecatolite. It scatters the moonlight."

"What does that mean?"

I pulled the phone towards me, my concern for Scott overpowering any sense of common politeness. "It keeps out the moonlight, Scottie. Those two are the lions that haven't been fed for days, and you're the main course. So unless you wanna be puppy chow, I suggest getting your arses out of there."

"Exactly," Stiles added. "They haven't felt the full moon in three months, diminishing their tolerance to it. They're gonna be stronger. . ."

"More savage, more bloodthirsty," Peter interrupted. "Scott, they're the lions. They're the starved lions and you and Derek have just stepped into the Colosseum."

Scott spoke on the other end of the line. "Derek, we've got a problem. A really big problem."

When there was no answer for a while, Stiles got restless. "Scott! Hey, Scott!"

"No! No, wait!" We heard on the other end. What the hell was happening?

All we heard was growling, and then the call ended.

Peter, Stiles and I all stared at each other. What were we supposed to do now?

I felt all my emotions beginning to boil over, the air in the room thickening. Scott and Derek were in trouble and I couldn't help them because no one knew what I was. No one but Peter.

Everyone was keeping secrets and I was so over it. How were we supposed to defeat the Alpha pack if we couldn't even trust one another?

"Riley," Stiles placed a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?" Apparently I had altered the air enough that he had noticed.

"Do I look okay?" I asked him sarcastically. "I can't- Scott is in trouble, and I can't help him because I'm standing around. What is the point of having the abilities I do if you guys won't let me help anyone? I should've went with them in the first place."

Stiles stepped closer to me, "He's going to be okay. Derek and Scott always manage, we don't need to risk you too."

"That's for me to decide, Stiles. And you don't know they'll be okay. How can you?" I said, widening the space between us. "I need to go. I need to try."

"And what if you can't control it and you end up being the one who kills them?" Peter asked as I began to walk towards the door. "Your mother took years to learn control, you've barely known four months."

"'Known'? I don't even know what I am, I just know I have power and that means I need to help people. Not all of us are as selfish as you are, Peter," I sneered at the wolf. "And what would you know about my mother?"

Peter crossed his arms, "You know who always ends up dead? People who put their lives on the line; people like your mother. We knew each other better than you think. You know how I'm the one still alive? I make sure situations lean in my favour. Saving Erica and Boyd benefits me in no way, so why bother?"

He was always only looking out for himself, not caring how it affected anyone else. Well for once he was going to help someone else. Me.

"What am I?" I mumbled to Peter.

His eyes widened, "Interesting timing you have there. But don't you think there's more important things right now?"

I felt my jaw click as the air grew in density. He knew my mother and her abilities, meaning he knew what she was. What I was. I wanted to know to what extent he knew her, but there was only so many answers I thought I'd be able to get out of him.
"I think it will never be a good time, and until we know what's going on, now's as good a time as any."

"Fair point," He nodded. "And why should I tell you?"

"Because this is me asking nicely."

He scoffed. "Oh, please. I'm not scared of a little school girl having an identity crisis. Like I said, I do things that benefit me, so why do this for you?"

After a moment, the side of my mouth twitched upwards, "You get to keep breathing."

As Peter gave me a look of confusion, I closed my eyes and concentrated. Slowing my breathing I focused like I had practised whilst in Devonford, then opened my eyes and used my abilities to contort the air around Peter, keeping it from reaching his lungs.

It took a moment, but I got it right this time. His eyes widened further as he brought a hand to his throat, noises escaping his mouth as he tried to take in air.

"Riley, what are you doing?" Stiles asked quickly, moving towards me.

"I need to know, and he won't tell me," I took a step in the opposite direction. "I need to know, Stiles. My mother is gone, and he's the only one who can tell me."

Peter began to charge towards me, hands extended with claws protruding. I just side stepped and let him go straight past, before gripping the air around him harder.

The sounds he was making became louder as he fell to his knees. His face was going red and the veins in his neck and forehead were visible from where I stood.

"You think just because I haven't known long means I can't control myself?" I let my head fall to the side, "I'm more in control than I've ever been. Now, I want to know what you know. So, do we have a deal?"

He didn't respond, his eyes glaring at me as he continued to gulp for air. I upped the intensity one more notch and then he cracked, nodding quickly.

I released my grip on the air and Peter immediately took in the largest breath I had ever seen anyone take. His breathing then became quick spurts as he tried to pump all the air back into his lungs.

"I didn't realise. . . how strong. . . you had gotten," He got out between breaths.

"Neither did I," Stiles whispered. I looked over to see him staring at me, shock all over his face.

I looked away, not liking how he was looking at me. "I practised. Now tell me, or I'm going to start testing out things I've been practising."

He climbed to his feet and walked until he was standing directly in front of me. He towered over me, his claws still on the ends of his fingers. What would be faster, him slashing my throat or me taking away his ability to breath?

Did he really want to play chicken with someone who was willing to risk everything?

"You're nothing like your mother."
Rolling his shoulder, his fists clenched in defeat. "Sylph."

Another comment about my mother. Another story for another day. Probably one I didn't want to hear. My brows creased, "What the hell is a 'Sylph'?"

"You only asked what you were, I owe you nothing more." I went to argue, but he held up a clawed finger. "And don't even try your little party trick again, or your boyfriend over there gets my teeth around his throat."

We stood staring each other down, until Peter's phone buzzed. "Saved by the bell," he muttered as he grabbed his jacket and walked towards the door. "Don't think I'll forget this."

And then he was gone, leaving Stiles and I on our own.

I finally knew what I was. But what in God's name was a Sylph? I don't think I've ever heard of one before, and we were yet to encounter one in Beacon Hills. Well, I guess we already have if you were to include me.

I felt hands on my shoulders and glanced up to see Stiles. I felt a smile creep onto my face, "You have no idea how relieved I am right now. I feel like a weight has been lifted, or something like that."

"Riley, why would you do that?" Stiles asked quietly.

I stared at him, confused by the question. "What do you mean? I told you he was the only one who knew what I was and he wouldn't tell me."

He dropped his hands from my shoulders, "You could've killed him."

"That's a bit hypocritical considering you were asking someone to kill him, like, two hours ago."

"I wasn't being serious!" he shouted. "I get that you wanted to know, but where do we draw the line? Just because you can do stuff like that, doesn't mean you should. When did you even learn that?"

"I practised over the summer when I was in Devonford," I shrugged. "It felt kind of like riding a bike, but I had never done it before. I don't know how to explain it to you."

"How did you," He stuttered. "How did you do that to Peter though?"

"Like I said," I shrugged. "I just practised it a lot while I was away."

And it wasn't even a lie, I had. It was easier than I thought to pick up, but still difficult in spots, kind of like anything you start to learn I guess.

No animals or humans were harmed during the learning process, mind you.

Stiles still looked worried as he stared at me. I couldn't tell whether he was scared of what I had just done, or me in general.
"Does Charlotte know?"

"Charlotte? Of course not. I have no idea how she'd react so I haven't told her. I haven't decided if I will."

Even though Charlotte and I were sisters, I haven't seen her for years. She might not be the same person I thought I knew. I couldn't risk my friends lives on that uncertainty; blood may be thicker, but it doesn't make you family.

"But what if she's like you?" Stiles asked me. He was keeping a safe distance after what had just happened. It hurt, but I couldn't blame him.

She couldn't be. I got this from my mother not my father, therefore Charlotte couldn't have this ability. Shaking my head, I vocalised my thoughts. I wished my mum was there to show me how our abilities worked instead learning it on my own. And to tell me how she knew Peter. I didn't have a Derek like Scott, I was solo for my other-self-discovery.

Stiles' phone buzzed as it began to ring and without a word he grabbed it out to have a look at who was calling him. He sighed, his face scrunching as he tried to figure out what to do. "I've got to go. You should go home. I don't think you should be out here right now."

Was he really doing this right now? "Stiles-"

"I've got to go."
He put his phone in his back pocket before picking his keys up off of the table and leaving the loft. Leaving me.

♡♢♤♧

When I got back home I went straight to my window, only to find that it was locked.

"Shit!" I ground out between gritted teeth as my head fell back. Charlotte knew.

Walking around to the front door I opened it quietly and prayed that she had decided to go to bed. Unlikely.

As I went to head down the hallway to my bedroom, I was stopped by a voice.
"And where do you think you're going?"

"To bed?" I asked more than answered, not turning to face her. I already knew she'd have that disappointed look on her face.

"Oh, I'm sure," she scoffed. "And when you go there, the only reason you'll be leaving is for school."

This caused me to turn around, "You can't be for real?"

She stormed over to me, arms crossed, "I told you to be home. Twice now. And you weren't. So, you're grounded."

"You can't do that!" I almost shouted. "You're not my mother."

This caught her off guard as her balance fumbled. "I might not be your mother, but I'm the one who was here for you and took you in. I didn't have to do that."

She was right. I could've ended up being taken in by someone who didn't even live in the county. Or worse; I could've been taken in by my father.

"Now go to your damned room, and don't try sneaking out the window again because I'm not against going full 'Harry Potter' on your ass and barring them," she mothered.

I groaned as I spun and went to my room, closing the door behind me.