♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 fifty-one.

won't bite.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

DALLAS GARCIA HAD A TENDENCY TO BE DIFFICULT.

She was Beacon Hills' primadonna. The poster-girl for bad choices. The epitome of the teenage nightmare. It wasn't something she prided herself on though, it was just who she was. Every snap, bark and bite she had came naturally. 

Stiles Stilinski was difficult too. He, however, was Beacon Hill's very own menace. The son of authority who never seemed to listen to pretty much any. The boy who always managed to stick his nose in places where it didn't belong. 

While they were both difficult in their unique ways - one thing remained equal. 

They both secretly loved the trouble.

Dallas, for instance, didn't care for the many eyes on her as she walked towards the school. Instead, she turned her head to the side as Malia Tate's arm wrapped around hers and became glued to her side. 

"If I fail this, will you help me bury the bodies?" Malia flickered her eyes to Dallas with a slight smile resting on her pinkish lips. 

The Siren slipped through the doors with her and pretended to think. "Depends, would you do the same for me?"

"Pinkie swear." The she-wolf raised her finger and connected it with the siren's as they both approached the ridiculously long line. While the locker metal was cold against her bare shoulders, Dallas felt the lingering look of Stiles Stilinski on her. 

"Where's Lydia?" Kira chirped up which caused the group to glance at her. 

"She took it freshman year," Dallas mumbled with a slight tut. While Lydia wasn't here with them, she had helped the siren study with all-nighters mixed with flashcards and an obscene amount of coffee. 

Scott could smell the anxiety seeping from his pack. "It's only three hours. We can survive three hours." Kira cracked a smile while Stiles shared a knowing look with Dallas who gushed at his expression.

"Famous last words."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Dallas dropped her cellphone into the paper bag as the professors stared at her with an unknown expression. She brushed it off, however, as the anxious tapping of pencils and heavy breathing broke her focus. 

The paper was sat tauntingly before her with scrambles of text, pictures and dates plastered across its page. "This test is two hours and ten minutes." the teacher spoke loud over the class. "There will be two twenty-five minute critical reading sections, two twenty-five minute math sections and an essay writing portion that will last thirty minutes."

He then glanced to one of the teaching assistants, who coincidentally, was Lydia's mother. "There are supposed to be two teachers monitoring this exam." 

The woman buckled underneath his sharp gaze. "I know. It's Coach, he's not exactly.. punctual." she then grabbed her phone. "Um, let me just try him again." she disappeared through the door. Dallas furrowed her eyebrows as the women returned not moments later looking disappointed and smelling slightly of booze. 

"I can't find him, but Mr. Yukimura is upstairs grading papers. Do you want me to try him?" 

The teacher, whom Dallas didn't seem to recognise, shook his head in dismay. "We have to start. We can ask for his assistance during the first break." 

He tapped his finger against the wristwatch and glanced up to the class. "You may now open your test booklets and begin." 

The rustling of papers and scratching pens echoed through the hall while the Garcia carefully wrote her name across the dotted line. A small heart over the 'i's and a flick at the end of the a's. 

She filled in her answers, erased her answers and eventually, dropped her pencil at the math questions that absolutely wracked her brain. Lydia's tutoring was good - but Dallie's memory wasn't.

Malia Tate was in a similar position as she tore her eyes around the room and felt hot underneath the school lights and glaring sun. Nobody else around her seemed to struggle as much as she did. Well, that was until a girl behind her fainted to the floor. 

All the class spun their head around to look at her until one teacher dropped to the floor and helped her up. "Sydney!"

"I'm fine," she mumbled out until her wrist was cradled by the woman. 

"Sydney.. how long have you had this?" the Martin her finger across the veined purple bruise that plagued her skin. 

"I.. I don't know." 

The anonymous teacher quirked a brow. "Ms. Martin, do I need to stop the test?"

Scott McCall and Dallas Garcia shared a look of concern. Something was off, yet, they had no proof of how. "No.. um, its fine." the mother then helped the girl back to her seat before standing in front of the class. "Everybody stay in your seats. I'll, um, be back in a minute." she then turned to the man. "Nobody leaves the room."

The room was silent until yelling erupted from the hall. This caused all students to jump up and pour into the hall despite the teacher's dismay. 

At the end of the hall stood Lydia's mother, a tissue in hand and a panicked expression coating her features. "Back to your seats. Now." she watched as they gave her a sceptical look. "Please."

Before all students poured back into the room, Scott grabbed the attention of the Latina. "Something's wrong here," he mumbled. She attempted to sit back down but he gently tugged her wrist. "Stop, listen."

She did as he asked and just as he had speculated, a phone call echoed out from the end doorway. "I need the number of the CDC." she spoke with a panicked tone. "Yes, the Center for disease control."

Not too long later, men in protective yellow hazmat suits slithered down the hallway. Gasmasks covered their faces and heavy equipment hung from their gloved hands. Before any of the teenagers could register it, testing equipment and plastic coverings were everywhere and police sirens wailed outside. 

"We isolate the sick and then we wait for instructions." Miss Martin threw a blanket over Sydney while Scott stood to the side. "If I'm wrong, they'll be out of here pretty quickly and then I'm the crazy biology teacher who panicked for nothing."

"Bet it's smallpox," Stiles mumbled to the girls while Dallas paced behind them. "It's always smallpox." 

Dallas ran her hands over her face before dropping them to her sides and raising a brow at her boyfriend. "Smallpox was eradicated in 1979, Stiles."

The teacher backed up the teen's claims. "She's right. We've only managed to eradicate two viruses in history. The first, smallpox, the second, rinderpest." he spoke with a knowing tone. "It killed cows." 

"That's comforting." Stiles sarcastically commented as he glanced between them. "Right?"

"Unless it's something worse."

Malia focused her hearing onto the police outside. "Whatever it is, they're taking it pretty seriously." she focused a little more on the sound. "Your dad's with him."

Stiles shot up. "Maybe I should call him-"

The teacher spoke up again. "Don't bother." he seemed rather calm. "They would have shut off any access to all outside communication by now." he shrugged. "No cell service. No Wifi. No-one starting a panic."

"You have half of the police department here and disease control. Panic's already been caused." Dallas snapped. She didn't like the condescending tone he had with Stiles. She wondered how judgy those eyes would be when she scratched them out.

"Even so, we're all just gonna have to wait here and see what happens."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Sybil paced across the abandoned warehouse while Seline swallowed dryly. "What do you mean you lost it, Sybil?"

"I left it here away from Damon. I hid it so they couldn't use it against me." the siren panicked outwardly to the broken piece of wood that she hid her weaknesses under. "But it's gone. The fork's gone."

Seline thought more logically than her sisters. More mature and more calming. This, however, was their only weakness out in the world for all to use. "You don't think Damon or Enzo took it?"

"It's not their scent. It's not one I recognise." Sybil dropped her hands to her side. "You've gotta tell Dallas. This is her business now, too."

"I already tried." Seline wrapped her arms around herself. "Nothing's working." 

"What about the dog?" her sister soured at the mention of him. "What about.. Derek Hale?"

"You trust him?" 

"No, but Dallas does."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Malia seemed more on edge than usual. "Kira, you ever get the feeling that Dallas, Scott and even Stiles aren't telling you everything?"

"What do you mean?" She quirked one of hers. 

"Like.. they hide stuff." Malia began to list the things she noticed. "Dallas can read minds, but she never tells us what she hears. Scott and Stiles have it in with Deaton almost everyday, but he never talks to us. It's weird, right?"

"They probably have a good reason." 

Dallas made her way back to the line until Malia backed her up against a locker. In a sick sense of deja vu, she awaited to hear something mean and twisted. What she didn't expect, however, was such a dull question. "Dallas," she lay her head back to examine her. "What is Scott hiding in the bag under his bed?"

"Woah, isn't that a question for Kira?" she broke into a grin. 

Kira stumbled over her sentences. "I've never been under his bed." she stuttered. "Or in it. Just on it." she watched as she dug herself a bigger hole then she started with. "Wearing clothes!"

They both gave her a dumbfounded look before her name was called. "Kira Yukimura!"

The girl spun around and left the two women before Dallas turned back to Malia. "Oh, you guys are adorable." she snickered. "No. I have no idea what Scott does in his spare time."

"Well, what does Stiles do?"

Dallas quirked a brow. "Take a guess."

Malia's confused stare on Dallas lingered a little longer than usual while the siren herself turned away and returned to the line with the Yukimura. The two girls span back to Kira as electricity crackled up the needle. It clambered to the floor while the professional drew back in shock. Literally. 

While the woman ran out and checked the hole in her suit, both James Garcia and Rafael McCall stood awaiting any news. "Any verdict on what we're dealing with yet? My son's in there!"

James glanced between the two. "Your son? My daughter too!" he placed his hands on his hips. "If something's not done soon you'll have more than a lawsuit on your hands here."

"How lovely. Maybe they can debrief each other." she snapped back as Noah Stilinski joined the conversation. 

Scott's dad and Dallie's dad shared a bitter look. 

"James," he spoke with a slight dislike. 

"Rafael." the lawyer responded back coldly. "Is it really smallpox?"

"You two want my opinion?" Noah sighed heavily. "I don't think the Orphans were the only professional killers in Beacon Hills." he then turned to James who avoided their look. "Were they?"

James swallowed dryly. "What do you think?"

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Scott McCall's red eyes flickered to Mr Yukimura while the pack sought serenity in the locker rooms. He crossed his arms and let out a rather hefty sigh. "It's still happening." 

He then glanced to Malia who had her wolf nails out and ready to tear at anything within reach. "I can't make them go back in."

"Just paint them and they'll look like a killer manicure." she then felt everybody give her a stern look. Stiles, however, tried to bite back the slight smile. "What?"

"Obviously the virus is affecting the two of you in a way it won't hit any human being." the Yukimura began. 

Stiles nodded along. "You guys have to stay out of sight. We have to quarantine you from the quarantine."

Kira's face held an anxious look. "Yeah, but where? I mean, what if they get violent? Like on a full moon?"

"We shouldn't stay in here." Scott managed to speak through painful grunts. "Not in the locker room."

 "A classroom is not going to hold us." Malia clasped her eyes shut as they began to change. 

The Kitsune hummed silently. "What about the basement?"

"-Too many ways out."  Her boyfriend spoke over her while scratching his wrist. "We need something secure. Somewhere nobody can find us?"

Stiles glanced up to his girlfriend and leaned closer to her ear. "What about the vault?"

She furrowed her eyebrows at him. "You don't mean-"

"Yeah, The Hale vault. The Hales always have an escape route." he swallowed. "There's gotta be another way in."

He reached forward to gesture to the end of the hall, but instead, almost tumbled to the floor. His vision became blurred and why he leaned against the lockers. Dallas took a step aside and lifted up his sleeve to which he had been itching all day. At first, she assumed it was just his nerves, but on closer inspection, he had the mark Syndey had too.

"Mr Yukimura," she lifted his arm to the vet as his face drooped with worry. 

"It's happening to you, too." he then turned to the rest of the pack as Dallas helped him steady himself. She wrapped her hands around his arm while lovesick worry coated her features. "You're getting sick. You all are."

Kira frowned. "I don't feel sick." she glanced to Dallas who held a concerned look on Stiles with pursed lips and soft eyebrows. "Neither does Dallas."

"It's affecting you neurotically, Kira." he then turned to the Siren. "And Dallas?" 

She took a moment to glance at him. "Look up." he let out an exasperated sigh.

And she did. Above her, waterly waves swirled around each drainage pipe and a harsh blue glow lingered under her hands. She glanced back down and the glow had seeped into her eyes. It was only a matter of time before the hunger would set in. 

This wasn't the water bending to her will anymore. It followed her whether she wanted it to or not. It controlled her. Her hands shook with anxiety until one came to a quick halt and felt rather warmer than before. Staring down, her heart felt heavy at the sight. Stiles was holding her hand. He didn't look at her, but rather,  squeezed it comfortingly.

 "We need to get you all out of here now."

⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

Seline followed the doggish scent through the hospital with Marilyn at one side and Sybil at the other. "You know what'll happen if the fork falls into the wrong hands, Marie."

"Why would you bring it here?" she scolded her sister as the three sirens searched for Derek Hale. 

Sybil snapped with a sarcastic tone. "What was I supposed to do? Would you rather I leave it in a town full of vampires?"

"So you bring it to one with a bunch of hunters and werewolves instead?" 

"Shut up, both of you!" Seline ordered her two sisters as they reached a closed medical room. "He's in here, I can smell it."

Marilyn stepped forward and creaked the door open. She hadn't expected to see Melissa McCall, or whoever else, but sunk backwards as all eyes lay on the three. 

"Sorry, we're not taking any visitors right now-" Melissa mumbled while she stood over the patient, who seemed to be of supernatural origin, but dropped the syringe to the floor as she met her eyes. "Marilyn... Marilyn Garcia?"

This caused Derek Hale to snap his head up at her. "Can I have Derek Hale for a moment.. please?" she swallowed dryly as she had forgotten to hide her face. So much for staying dead. 

He nodded to Melissa before slipping through the door and into the hallway. "Marilyn?" he flickered his eyes behind her. "Who the hell are these guys?"

"My sisters." she felt small underneath his wide gaze. Seline rolled her eyes as Sybil gave him a pathetic wave. So much for keeping them a secret, too. "Look, I'm not here about that-" 

"Then what are you here about?" Derek's stress had finally caught up with him. "Half of the Pack is stuck at the high school quarantining and I'm trying to figure out how to stop this list!"

Marilyn gritted her teeth. "It's about the list, Derek." she began. "There's a fork. A tuning fork that can control Sirens.. I think someone is trying to claim the money on me.. maybe even on Dallas."

Derek grew protective relatively quick. "You think they want her 28k?"

"28K?" Sybil laughed bitterly. "That's chump money for Sirens, nevermind for someone like Dallie. Try 28 Million."

The Hale dropped his hands to the side. They had got it all wrong. Dallas was worth so much more. "How does a fork control someone?"

Seline chirped in. "Cause it's not an ordinary fork. It was forged in the fire of Arcadius. The fire that killed the Devil. When used, it stuns us. Keeps us from fighting back." she frowned. 

"It's the perfect weapon for a killer."

☆ word count: 3,489. ☆

 a/n: also rafael and james hate each other ? i wonder why ;)