𝟐𝟖 𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒛𝒆

✯☾✯

𝑨 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒆 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒍,the enchanting melody of quiet, warming music drifted down one particular street, painting the air with euphonic hues. It meandered down the road, soft notes slipping through the cracks of open windows.

The music moved with a delicate grace, having emerged from the house at the very end of the street. It was most likely Taylor Swift, given the family that occupied said house however, music of all forms were known to be played there.

The interior, well, the kitchen was layered with powdery flour, quite literally everywhere. The floor, the counter tops, clothes, on faces.

Andy, with his gentle smile and joyful eyes, had taken the lead in the baking escapade, ultimately the reason everywhere was a mess. That and the fact three kids were involved.

Baking night was not something any member of the Brown family could pass on. It was a tradition upkept once a month since before any of the kids were born as it had originated from Andrew and Amelia's honeymoon stage.

Lizzie, a reflection of her father's enthusiasm, had been the one to drop the whole bag of flour on the floor, Davis had been the one to tread it round the kitchen and Bobby had ever so helpfully not warned Andy of the eggshell he had slipped on, dropping the cake batter in the process. So, all in all, the explosion of baking ingredients had been a joint effort.

Yet, spirits were high and grins were broad. Even though the cupcakes had most likely failed, the family didn't mind. They were together.

A knock echoed throughout the house, drawing away attention. It was a modest, yet firm knock, just enough to make its presence known without being overly intrusive.

"I'll get it." Lizzie chirruped, dusting off some of the ashy white on her palms. She tread lightly out of the room, humming to herself as she drew near her door.

She reached for the handle and with a gentle twist, revealed the world behind.

Two figures stood close to each other in the moonlight, both in matching leather jackets.

"Hey guys!" Lizzie exclaimed rather excitedly. "Come in, come in."

Boyd and Erica exchanged greetings as they stepped into the warmth of the house, both exchanging amused looks when they spotted the dusting of flour on Lizzie's cheeks.

Lizzie led the pair through to the kitchen where chaos ensued.

"Dad!" Lizzie jumped up and down on the spot. "Look! Friends! This is Boyd and Erica."

Andy and the boys looked up from the mixing bowl, the Dad's eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Hi, guys. Sorry you've caught me at my worst."

Boyd and Erica laughed politely at the man's joke.

"I'm going to take them through the the lounge. Is that okay?" Lizzie asked, hands clasped in front of her, swaying on the balls of her feet.

"Yeah," Andy shrugged. "Yeah, of course, let me know if you need anything."

Lizzie nodded, gesturing for her friends to follow her into the small sitting room.

Each teen took a seat on the sofa, the visitors quite awkwardly.

Eyes sparkling, Lizzie cocked her head, now realising she'd practically dragged Erica and Boyd in her house without even asking them why they were here.

"Are you guys here to hang out?" The pixie questioned.

Erica's eyes darted nervously around the room, fidgeting with her fingers on her lap. Boyd, sensing her unease, reached out to give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

The blonde drew in a breath, "We just wanted to talk to you about something."

Boyd nodded, "Yeah, it's something we've been, uh, thinking about for a whole now."

Lizzie, with her empathetic nature, leaned forward, eyes filled with worry. "Is everything okay? You both seem- on edge."

Erica smiled softly, appreciating the concern of her friend. "Everything's fine, Lizzie, really. It's just- Boyd and i have decided it's best if we left."

A plump, pink lip was tucked between Lizzie's teeth as shock and confusion settled with in her. "Like leave leave? What?"

Boyd shifted, glancing at the blonde beside him, "We just think, it would be best for us if we find another pack. Nothing seems to be going right for us here."

"Oh," Lizzie's shoulders dropped as did her mood. "Oh."

Boyd and Erica swapped a bittersweet look, the weight of their decision evident.

"We wanted to tell you personally instead of letting you find out through someone else. You mean so much to us, L. So much to me. You were the first person to ever really show us any sort of friendship," Boyd murmured, his eyebrows furrowed.

Alleviated by Boyd's words, Lizzie began to digest the news. Mixed emotions lingered in the air.

"And, we'll miss you," Erica added, moving over to sit on the other side of Lizzie, and wrapping and arm around her. "But, we have to do this."

Lizzie leaned into Erica, sniffling. "I get it."

At those words, Boyd shuffled closer, coddling both girls and leaving Lizzie squashed between the two.

✯☾✯

The high school lacrosse pitch buzzed with energy and activity as players, coaches, and spectators filled the space. The swarm of people was a sea of red for BH and black for the opposing team. Flood lights blinded the crowd as they spotlighted onto the pitch.

A pair of siblings walked along the side of the pitch, the girl skipping and the boy clutching his lacrosse stick nervously. They parted as they approached the stacked sub's bench, the boy running off to join his team who'd each been freshly installed with confidence thanks to the Coach's independence day motivation speech.

Lizzie smiled delightedly as she caught the eyes of her best friends. She attempted to wave to the boys but it proved quite difficult as her arms were stacked full of snacks and gifts. After picking up her dropped stash, Lizzie ran the short distance between Stiles and Scott, crashing down next to them.

"Hello!" The girl practically yelled as she began to sort out the things in her clutches. "For you and you."

Stiles and Scott exchanged startled looks as a selection of chocolate bars and candy were chucked onto their laps, each labelled 'good luck' in bright pink ink.

It was the championship final and the boys were shitting themselves because with the added nerves of how the game would play out, an additional concern was thrown into the mix. Jackson was playing. He was playing like everything was normal. As if he didn't turn into a submissive-lizard killing machine with a throat slashing issue whenever his master desired.

But, despite the harrowing panic Scott and Stiles felt, at least they had a bubbly friend to cheer them up.

They both murmured words of gratitude before turning sombre.

"We're losing, guys," Stiles muttered, turning either side of him where his friends were sat.

"What are you talking about?" The obnoxious voice of Coach Finstock appeared behind them. "The game hasn't even started! Now, put on your helmet and get out there. You're in for Greenburg."

Stiles whipped round, stunned and even more so when he realised Coach was talking to him. "What? What happened to Greenberg?"

Coach scoffed, "What happened to Greenburg?", he mimicked, holding out his hands like he was weighing up his options. He sucks! You suck slightly less."

Lizzie smiled proudly, placing her hands on the Stilinski boy's shoulders.

Stiles still seemed too shocked to process everything, "I'm playing? On the field? With the team?"

Coach raised and eyebrow and sassed, "Yes, unless you'd rather play with yourself..."

"I already did that today-- twice."

Scott cringed at the dirty reply and of course it went straight over Lizzie's head.

"Get the hell out of here!" Coach ordered.

Stiles grinned awkwardly and darted off onto the pitch, leaving Lizzie and Scott cheering for him.

Lizzie shuffled closer to Scott, giggling at Stiles' father's shouts of pride coming from the stands. She felt the wolf tense beside her and she looked at him quizzically.

Scott took hold of her arm and whispered, "Gerard."

Lizzie sat up straighter, her eyes searching for the killer grandpa. She spotted him, camouflaged in with the rest of the crowd, muttering words only Scott could hear.

"Let's put a real clock on this game, Scott. I'll give you until the last thirty seconds. When that scoreboard clock begins counting down from thirty, if you haven't given me Derek, then Jackson is gonna kill someone. So, you tell me, Scott-- who's gonna die tonight?

"Should it be your mother, who so bravely came out to support you?"

"Or the Sheriff, your best friend's father?"

"The lovely girl with the butterfly hair clips sat beside you?"

"Or, how about the pretty little redhead who managed to survive the bite of an Alpha?"

"Or maybe one of these innocent teenagers with their whole lives ahead of them?"

"Or should I do everyone a favour and kill that ridiculous coach?"

Scott looked at every person Gerard described in turn, slowly trying to figure things out.

"It's up to you, Scott. But, you are going to help me take Derek down... because if you don't, I'll have Jackson rip someone's head off right in the middle of the field and drench everyone you love and care about in blood."

Gerard ceased his threats and smiled coldly to himself. Scott ducked his head down. The boy sat in a state of deep distress, his young heart burdened by an overwhelming sense of helplessness.

✯☾✯

Watching Stiles play lacrosse was more stressful than the kanima situation.

Lizzie was on the edge of her seat, observing hopefully as Stiles repeatedly tripped over, dropped the ball, ran the wrong way.

Whilst Scott, for the most part, held his his head in his hands, Lizzie watched the game with such intensity it was as if she could change it's course with just her eyes.

The unfortunate event of the opposing team scoring yet another goal led to Scott jumping from seat. Coach latched onto the boy's shoulders and forced him back down onto the bench.

"Sit down, McCall!"

"But, Coach, we're dying out there!" Scott argued in a whiny voice, his loyalty to his team and will to win was still evident despite the problems.

"Oh, I'm aware of that!" Coach acknowledged grimly. "Now, sit!"

Lizzie and Scott glued theirs eyes to the game, often exchanging pained looks, often passing a small bag of snacks between them, completely focused until a third presence barrelled into the bench, taking a seat next to Scott at an alarming speed.

Eyes widened with a mix of nervousness and warmth, Lizzie quickly took him in.

Isaac glanced at her in such a way a soft blush crept to Lizzie's cheeks, giving away her emotions. Her lips curved upwards into a shy smile, the corners barley lifting as she tried to veil her rapidly growing infatuation with the boy. She couldn't help the shot of adrenaline that bled through her veins, making her heart rate pick up and her palms sweaty.

Scott visibly lifted with shock and relief, "You came to help?"

Isaac diverted his gaze from Lizzie, following the hopefulness in Scott's voice straight to the wolf himself. "I came to win."

He briefly surveyed the ongoing match on the pitch, hardening his stare when his eyes landed on Gerard as his mind set at work devising some form of a plan- anything that could help.

"You got a plan?" Isaac asked Scott, hoping for the foundations of something.

"Other than Lizzie's idea to just 'get rid of Jackson', it's pretty much just keep him from killing anyone." Scott said blandly. The boys looked to Lizzie for an explanation.

The girl stared with innocent eyes. "I'm sure someone owns a sniper round here."

Isaac blinked almost disbelievingly, but, he pulled himself together and forced a conclusion. "Well, that might be easier if you're actually in the game. We have to make it so Coach has no choice but to play you."

Slowly, Scott's brows furrowed, and an incredulous expression spread across his face. His gaze fixated on the Isaac, tinged with a mixture of amusement, and mild annoyance. He really did not have time for everyone's stupidity today.

"How do we do that? He's got a bench full of guys he can use before he ever puts me on the field!"

An almost scary, knowing look was shared between the two boys, one that Lizzie didn't understand and would have to have explained to her later.

A falter in Scott's expression told Lizzie it wasn't the most incredible of ideas but, right now it was all they had.

"Can do it without putting anyone in the hospital?"

Lizzie's brows knitted together at the lack of context she was receiving.

Isaac heaved an exasperated sigh and shrugged. "I can try..."

With the last of his lacrosse gear fastened on, gloves, pads and finally a helmet, Isaac ran towards the pitch, leaving Lizzie with a blush-worthy wink and a grin.

The second the whistle sounded, Isaac flew into action and Lizzie got to see what the mysterious plan was and yeah, it wasn't the best. Players dropped like flies. None of them from the opposing side, every single on from Beacon Hills, resulting in a substitution every five minutes.

Slowly, Isaac whittled his way through half the team despite the shouts of disapproval from coach and the decreasing respect from his team mates.

With only one more sub standing in Scott's way, Isaac picked out his victim. Before charging, he stupidly pointed rather suggestively at Lizzie, sending the girl into a fluster, and charged at Greenburg at full pelt.

Greenburg was knocked to the floor, not that anyone minded, but as was Isaac who fell backwards after a third body collided with him. Jackson.

Scott tugged Lizzie off of the bench and darted onto the pitch with her. Isaac was sprawled on the grass, heaving.

"It's not broken... but I can't move it." Isaac groaned as the stand by paramedics appeared by his side with a stretcher, "I think Jackson nicked me, 'cause I can feel it spreading."

Scott twisted his head to shoot daggers at Gerard, suspecting him immediately, Isaac quickly being carried away.

The McCall boy then locked eyes with the pixie girl who stared at him awkwardly. He read her like a damn book. "Go, I'll be fine."

Lizzie thanked him by crushing him into a hug and then left him to trundle behind the paramedics.

Isaac was carried into the boy's locker rooms to be briefly checked over. Lizzie stood, hopping from foot to foot, debating when to go in.

It was only when the medics exited with reassuring smiles, she built up the courage.

The room was dark and eerilie silent, the repetitive drips of the tap echoing about the room.

"Hi."

The soft voice forced Isaac out of his wallow, he was lying upon one of the benches in a stiff position. Rapidly, he pushed himself up with more strain than he expected.

"Oh...let me," Lizzie rushed forward but Isaac held his hand out, rejecting the help.

Lizzie chewed nervously on her finger nails, gaze tracing round Isaac's figure in the dim lighting. "I- are you in pain?"

"Huh?" Isaac gritted his teeth together. He was. He definitely was. "Oh, nuh-uh, don't worry about me."

A light laugh rippled throughout the girl's body, "Stupid thing to say. Of course I'll worry,"

Forehead creased, Isaac shook his head, "You know, you tell everyone not to worry about you all the time."

Lizzie braved a step forward, positioning herself next the hard bench. "I do?"

Wincing, Isaac attempted to swing his legs round but they were pushed back by the girl who was now knelt beside him.

"No," She scolded in a way that was meant to be intimidating but only led the curly haired boy to become entranced by her adorableness, "Stay."

A cascade of emotions swirled within Isaac, each thought resonating deeply in his heart. He found himself gazing longingly at the pixie, carefully reminding himself of every one of her delicate features and basking in her presence.

Oh, how he missed her.

Oh, how he loved her.

Her.

Some girl. This girl. His girl.

Some girl who reminded him how glorious it felt to be loved and to feel love.

This girl who, in his mind, was an addicting symphony of beauty and warmth.

His girl who was looking up at him through her dark lashes, ocean eyes lit up, admiring him as if he were the only thing in the world.

Him.

As she continued to admire him, her mind weaved dreams of a future intertwined with his. She envisioned the shared moments, the laughter, the tears, the adventures that await them. She wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand whenever she wanted, to kiss him like he was hers, to have him by her side, their hearts beating in a wonderous harmony.

She wanted that. She wanted everything to do with him.

And she could have that. They could have that. Right?

Isaac's adoration filled gape dimmed, reality re-emerged.

"I was going to leave," He croaked out, his voice seemed to fail him as did many things when he was with her. Her power over him was magical and he was captivated by it. "I was going to leave with Boyd and Erica, leave...you."

Something inside Lizzie told to say something, to reassure him, to tell him it was okay and that he didn't need to stay just for her. However, she kept her mouth shut and slipped her hand in his. She needed to let him speak.

"I'm sorry for everything, Lizzie. I made stupid decisions that meant i couldn't see you, I put you in danger. I'm so fucking sorry."

A pause for breath.

"I-i don't deserve you. I can't protect you," The boy looked down at his sprawled out state. "I need to be able to protect you."

There was no such thing as the working, beating heart inside Lizzie anymore. In it's place were tiny shattered fragments with Isaac's name engraved on each.

She often found it hard to get her words out, to express how she was feeling. She preferred to give people hugs or hold their hands. But, she was going to try. For him. She'd do anything for him.

Squeezing his hand, once, twice, she connected their raw, broken eyes. The depth of Isaac's pain was etched into every crease and line, revealing the battles he'd fought and the scars he'd been left in possession of.

"You know, I'm so proud of you, have been since i met you. You did what you had to do for you. Your happiness. Not mine. Never mine. Never me. Always you," Her voice was hoarse and low, practically a whisper, "I promise I'll look after you, if you'll let me."

Isaac was lost in confusion. He hadn't felt anything like this in a long time. He lifted the hand not intertwined with Lizzie's softly drew it down the side of the girl's face, the feeling of her skin so refreshing and homely.

"Can I kiss you? I really want to kiss you."

A familiar swarm of butterflies returned to the comforts of her stomach. She nodded shakily.

In a tender moment, their hearts beat in synchrony and in time, echoing the same rhythm of doting and affection, their lips met. It was a kiss filled with everything they'd needed for the longest age.

Their mouths moved slowly, taking the time to get used to each other but danced in harmony, a rhythm that only they knew. Isaac's hand found comfort on the back of Lizzie's head, his fingers delved in her hair.

Lizzie rested both of her palms on his shoulders to stable herself, fearing that if she let go, she'd fall away from him, something she never wanted to happen.

Pulling away was the hardest part but both teens needed air. Their breaths mingled, and their eyes met once again, foreheads stuck together like glue.

"Always you." Lizzie repeated herself breathlessly, leaning closer again to place a fluttering kiss on Isaac's nose.

"Well, isn't this cute," A voice easily recognisable teased them from behind. Gerard Argent, ever the cock-blocker, ever the psycho.

Lizzie turned on her knees, attempting block Isaac from view, unsure of his weakened strength.

"It was a good effort, Isaac. It was. One that's gonna get you and you're girlfriend killed though." Gerard redirected his stare from Isaac to the girl he was clutching onto. "Hi, Lizzie."

Using whatever strength he could find, Isaac slipped off of the bench pulling Lizzie back with him.

The sound of unsheathing metal cursed the ears of both supernatural teens.

"This would be so much more poetic if it were halftime..." Gerard sneered, glancing at himself in the glistening silver of his sword.

Now, Gerard's son had done his best with Lizzie and they'd worked hard, so much so, for the most part, Lizzie could control the majority of her powers.

So, as she and Isaac shuffled backwards across the floor, she worked on conjuring her spitting ball of light in her hand. The lights flickered slightly, unnerving Gerard and his few henchmen.

"Ooh, there she is," The old man hummed, smiling at the sight of the growing golden bouncing around in Lizzie's fist. "It's such a shame, i really did like you Lizzie. Such a sweet friend to my Allison."

Panicking. That's what Lizzie was doing. She focused all her energy as she and Isaac moved further backwards towards the sinks at the rear end of the room, Gerard's blade trailing across the floor, following.

A flash of yellow appeared in the darkness behind them. A different shade to Lizzie's light.

Gerard noticed it through the mirror he was facing, staring at the bright circles quizzically before tensing. The four men whipped round to face Scott.

Lizzie used it her advantage, hurling the light at one of the men and forcing him back into a temporarily blinded, unconscious mess on the floor.

Scott, being Scott, took care of the rest, leaving all three hunters knocked out but one. Gerard. The slimy snake had slithered off admits the fighting.

"Where is he?" Scott looked around desperately before coming to a manic decision and tugging Lizzie and Isaac out of the locker room.

"We haven't got much time!" Scott informed the dup, breaking out into a run. Isaac kept a tight hold of Lizzie's hand, the paralysation completely wearing off.

"That was so cool, Scotty. You're awesome." Lizzie panted from behind the McCall.

Scott shook away a grin, "You were pretty cool too, L."

The three burst out into the open air and followed the loud screams and shouts back to the pitch.

When they were indulged back into the match atmosphere, Scott and Lizzie took note of two very different things.

Lizzie squealed in excitement as she observed Stiles, a group of players surrounding him and cheering, stood next to the goal with a happy smile on his face. A proud feeling radiated from the depths of Lizzie's heart, filling her with warmth and a sense of fulfilment.

Scott, however, only focused on the timer. 30 seconds. The match was closing to an end and Jackson was still yet to do a thing.

20 seconds.

10 seconds.

5 seconds.

A roar of yells erupted from the side line. Beacon Hills had won. They'd actually won.

"Nothing happened... Nothing..." Scott muttered unsurely.

Nothing happened?

The pitch was flung into darkness, the floodlights dimmed completely and a piercing scream sounded.

Wolf boy had spoken too soon.

Lizzie was pulled into a chest and held tightly, she would've been afraid if she hadn't recognised Isaac's cologne.

Complete, inky blackness. It was terrifying.

"Lizzie!" The pixie acknowledged Scott's voice. It wasn't a shout of whereabouts. It was a shout for her to do something.

So, she focused. She focused hard and to her surprise the flood lights began to turn back on, one by one, spotlighting on the damaged caused.

Chaos. Hysteria. A body.

"Stiles!" Lizzie feared the worst and yelled, she and Isaac pushed through the crowd and to the small circle surrounding the body.

But, it was not Stiles. It was Jackson. Blood seeped from his fingernails as he lay unmoving and rigid.

His shirt had been pulled up, revealing multiple puncture wounds. Claw marks.

"He did it to himself." Isaac whispered his realisation aloud.

Mellissa McCall was crouched beside Jackson with a sombre expression, beginning the strenuous task of chest compressions. "Get down here. Get down here and hold his head. Tilt it up.", she ordered an inconsolable and freaked out Lydia.

A harsher and more strained and more strained shout boomed across the lacrosse pitch.

"Where's Stiles? Where the hell is my son?"

✯☾✯

Whatever was going on, whatever big thing everything was leading up to, it was happening tonight.

Stiles was gone.

No one had the slightest hint as to where he was apart from the small group that suspected a power hungry old man, whom they were also unsure of the whereabouts.

Scott and Isaac had changed from their lacrosse uniforms and stood silently, watching everything unfold. The police were searching Stiles' locker and many other for evidence...for anything.

The boys, particularly Isaac, perked up at the sight of Lizzie, weaving round officers to get to them.

"Where the hell did you get all that candy from?" Scott asked incredulously.

Lizzie looked down sadly at the bag in her hand, full of the trinity's favourite snacks, "It was for you guys after the game but, i was wondering if you could wait until we find Stiles to eat any."

Scott sighed and quickly gathered the smaller girl up in a hug. "We'll find him."

"Scott." Noah Stilinski jogged over to the group, he was pale and his eyes were watery. "I've got to meet with the medical examiner and try to figure out what happened with Jackson. I've got an APB out on Stiles. His Jeep is still in the parking lot, so that means..."

Noah paused to choke back a sob and drag a rough hand down his face, "The hell, I don't know what that means."

The man looked completely defeated and Lizzie couldn't stand it. She untangled herself from Scott's hold and pushed herself up onto her tip toes, extending her arms, ready to offer solace and reassurance through the simple act of a comforting hug.

Noah appreciated it greatly, returning the warm act for a short moment before pulling out of the embrace. "Um, look, if he answers his phone, if he answers his emails, if any of you see him-"

"We'll call you." Isaac cutting gently, trying to spare the Sheriff's feelings.

"Look," Scott spoke in a reassuring voice, "He's probably just freaked out from all the attention or something. We'll find him."

The lines of Noah's forehead wavered but stayed put, he bid the teens goodbye and wandered off, lost without his son.

The man who took Noah's previous place was much less calm and much more likely to be on some form of drugs.

"McCall... We need you on the team, okay? You know I can't put you on the field next season if you don't get your grades up." Coach jumped straight to the point, it seemed the fact that one of the members of his team was in critical condition and another was missing had completely skipped over him.

Scott seemed slightly astounded and cringed sheepishly, "Yeah, I know, Coach."

"All right. I mean, I-I know I yell a lot, but it's not like I hate you guys," The words caught up to Coach and he backtracked. "Well, I kind of hate Greenberg, but, you know... that's different. It's Greenberg! I'm just saying, we-"

Coach's eyes, that had been darting erratically every which way, maybe he really was on drugs, landed on Lizzie. He sighed, his lips pinching together.

"Brown, what have a told you about being in here. Boys could be changing. Y-you could see things. Are you trying to traumatize yourself?"

Smiling, at a default, the pixie alerted her pop culture knowledge, "These are not the droids you're looking for."

"Don't pull your Star Wars shit on me."

Lizzie was rendered confused and gulped slightly, "Do you want a candy bar?"

Coach's eyes twitched, "What?"

Lizzie quickly dug her hand in the bag she was carrying and pulled out a small bar covered in colourful wrapping. "A candy bar. Would you like one?"

Hesitantly, the man snatched it from her hands, "Are you trying to bribe me, Brown?"

Now, most other people jump to lie at many the opportunity, but, Lizzie really wasn't very good at lying. Plus, she had no awareness of social cues so-

"Absolutely yes."

Coach shook his head, muttering something about Obi-Wan Kanobi and skittles as he trudged off.

Lizzie turned back to Isaac and Scott, giggling and grinning.

Scott rolled his eyes in a fatherly manner. "How many times have a told you the Jedi Mind trick is never going to work?"

Gasping in mock offence, Lizzie pushed Scott's arm, "Hey, you never know."

A small uplift of spirits occurred when Scott chuckled, his tawny eyes lighting up just a little, "Maybe you should stick to your bribery, right, Isaac?"

Isaac fell into spotlight when two sets of eyes were on him, he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "I- well, hey, you never know."

"Thank you!" Lizzie said matter of factly, skipping round Scott towards Isaac. She took her place and leaned into his side as Isaac wrapped his arm around her shoulders. God, it felt good to be able to do that.

Feeling rather betrayed, Scott narrowed his eyes and danced his pupils between the two, before relaxing. "Well it's about time."

✯☾✯

"Is that everyone?"

A swift check was carried out and Isaac pulled back from his surveillance to slot by Lizzie's side. The pair were attached by the hip as they forever would be.

"I think so-" The Lahey boy confirmed. Now, they could get to work on finding Stiles in their 'special' ways.

With a nail biting screech of metal, the small door to Stiles' locker was ripped off and tossed carelessly over Scott's shoulder.

Lizzie's eyebrows shot up, the corners of her eyes creased and a genuine, infectious smile spread across her face. Her brain struggled to process the twist of humour and seriousness.

"You're gonna find him by scent?" Isaac questioned amusedly.

"Yeah," Scott tossed his fellow werewolf another article of clothing, "We both are."

Isaac caught the shoe, the look of disgust on his face unhidden and out there, "But, how come you get his shirt and I get a shoe?"

Scott brushed off Isaac's complaint, turning to something that caught his eyes.

Derek stood, dark and broody as always, his legs spread and his arms behind his back. "We need to talk."

How long he was there, no one knew but they were used to it now.

But, what they weren't used to were people coming back from the dead.

"All of us."

Peter Hale, everybody. Alive, well, and definitely not six feet under, where he was supposed to be.

Scott, of course, was freaking out, spluttering out a string of words that didn't make sense. He hated the guy.

Yet, Lizzie, with a heart brimming with kindness and a genuine affection for others, found herself facing an intriguing internal conflict when it came to Peter. Despite his malicious actions and the harm he caused, her compassionate nature compelled her to approach even him with a unique perspective. This mindset excluded Jackson Whittemore.

"What the hell is this?" Scott managed to pull together a complete sentence and executed with not an ounce of coolness. Pure incredulous rage.

Derek chose not to answer Scott's question but instead to go off on a tangent of teasing and taunting, "You know, I thought the same thing when I saw you talking to Gerard at the Sheriff's station."

"Okay, hold on!" Scott held his hands up, appalled. "He-he threatened to kill my mom! And I had to get close to him. What was I supposed to do?"

Peter nodded in agreement, an off-brand evil villain smirk present, "I'm gonna go with Scott on this one. Have you seen his mom? She's gorgeous!"

"Shut up!" Derek and Scott yelled simultaneously, Scott because of the fact he really didn't want to here Peter talk about his mom, ever, and Derek out of sheer annoyance that his uncle was simply speaking. He too hated the guy.

A dainty hand shot out and gripped Scott's bicep, "You know, Scotty, I think you're mom's awesome. I love her. Just wanted to let you know."

Scott's brows furrowed, and his eyes fixated on the Lizzie with an expression of total confusion. His gaze holding a hint of curiosity as he tried to make sense of the girl before him.

"Ah, Lizzie," Peter called out, his slicked back hair not doing his face shape any favours, "I've missed you."

Slightly odd considering he'd only spoken to Lizzie like once.

Lizzie nodded her head, bewildered, "Uh-thanks. Thanks...man?"

Protectiveness broke through and Isaac muttered the question, "Who is he?"

"That's Peter, Derek's uncle. A little while back, he tried to kill us all, and then we set him on fire, and Derek slashed his throat."

To put it simply.

"Hi," Peter greeted him, puffing his chest out proudly at his introduction.

Isaac didn't know whether to be fearful or disturbed. Maybe both, "Uh- that's good to know."

"How is he alive?" Scott voiced the question playing on everyone's tongues.

"Look, the short version is he knows how to stop Jackson," Derek's surly face contorted, as if it pained him to spit out the next few words, "And maybe how to save him."

Chuckling dryly, Isaac sassed, "Well, that's very helpful... except Jackson's dead."

From the looks of it, Derek's plans came crashing down, along with confident expression, "What?"

"Yeah, Jackson's dead. It just happened on the field" Scott stated, shrugging nonchalantly.

Isaac looked around, frowning and reviewing everyone's reactions. "Okay, why is nobody taking this as good news?"

Happy that he suddenly knew more than everyone, Peter Hale clucked his tongue, "Because, if Jackson is dead, It didn't just happen. Gerard wanted it to happen,"

"But why?" Derek directed his question at his uncle.

Peter took a few steps towards the teens, "Well, that's exactly what we need to figure out. And something tells me the window of opportunity is closing. Quickly."

An unlikely team up: A brooding ball of sour feelings, a freshly resurrected spawn of satin, a clueless teen with no social skills, a pessimistic boy who was concerningly over-confident, and an excitable girl who's just happy to be there.

Four wolves and a pixie. What could go wrong?

✯☾✯

Something horribly unsettling was going on with Jackson's lifeless corpse. Mellissa had called, freaked out and stressed, Isaac, Scott and Lizzie had rushed from the Hale House, in which they had partaken in a pointless visit, to Beacon Hill's Memorial.

The good news? Stiles had turned up at his house, bruised but alive.

The teens and the McCall nurse were crowded into a small room, so bland and bare, the only thing interesting was the distinct smell of disinfectant.

Jackson lay in a half open body bag across a shiny, metal table. He was covered from his neck downwards in a clear, slime like substance. And it was safe to say it wasn't a normal thing for dead bodies to develop a coating of Jello just an hour post-mortem.

"What's happening to him?" Scott questioned like there was some sort of medical explanation for the happenings. Spoiler alert, there wasn't.

"I thought you were going to tell me!" Mellissa hissed, her voice wobbling, "Is it bad?"

"It doesn't look good."

Isaac truly had no filter over his words. Neither did Lizzie.

"It looks like Jello," Lizzie pointed out, peering quizzically at the abnormality, "Do you think it's edible?"

No body got the chance to answer the pixie's delightful question as Jackson's head twitched. An all-round collective of 'woahs' and a couple of steps backwards was everyone's immediate reaction.

"Uh, can someone zip it up please?" Scott asked hurriedly.

No volunteers. The big strong werewolves diverted their eyes and Lizzie wasn't about to let Scott's human mother step anywhere near this thing.

With a sigh, the girl stepped forward, her hands fidgeting at her sides.

"O-okay, Dr Conners, just gonna-gonna," She retreated slightly when Jackson spasmed a hiss but Lizzie continued on at the chorus of instructions from behind her. Carefully, Lizzie hooked her fingers around the metal zip and pulled until Jackson was no longer visible and everyone could breath again.

The sound of rapid texting alerted the room, interrupting everyone's heart-rate-decreasing time. Then, a ring tone.

The phone clicked, the line connected and Derek wasted no time.

"Scott, bring him to us."

Scott scrunched his face up grimly, "I'm not sure if we have time from that."

The zipped up body bag was moving and writhing. Jackson sure was having a dance party in there.

There was a scramble of panic down the call and jumble of frantic words.

"Scott, get him out of there now. Go now!"

The line went dead, leaving Isaac, Scott and Lizzie wondering how the hell they were going to do this.

The answer was: with great difficultly.

After the tedious task of getting the body bag out of the hospital unquestioned, the teens still had to carry it to the car.

And, boy was Jackson one heavy dude.

Isaac and Scott took each ends whilst Lizzie held up the middle. They weaved, very ungracefully, through the cars in the parking lot under Scott's command.

At the moment a large brick wall shielded them from view as they waited for a group of people to pass.

"Okay, go. Go, go, go, go, go!" Scott ordered in a hushed voice and they set off as fast as they could through the lot once more.

But, although Scott was a great leader and person in general, his coordination skills sucked.

He demonstrated this inevitable characteristic by dropping his end of the body bag.

Isaac and Lizzie gasped, both looking as traumatised as the other as Scott was in fact holding the end where Jackson's head was placed.

However, they quickly recovered as an SUV pulled up, almost blinding them with it's bright headlights, and, surprise surprise, out stepped Chris Argent.

Scott was hesitant but he spoke first, "You're alone."

"More than you know." Chris replied sadly, hands stuffed in his leather jacket.

Wow, Lizzie thought, things just got real.

"What do you want?" The McCall boy interrogated skeptically.

Shifting on the spot, Chris sighed, "We don't have much in common, Scott. But, at the moment, we have a common enemy."

Gangster Grandpa himself. Gerard Argent. Everyone knew who he was talking about. The whole world knew who he was talking about.

Bar Scott.

"That's why I'm trying to get him out of here-"

Chris briskly interrupted the desperate boy, "I didn't mean Jackson."

The man looked saddened as he began to let the truth unfold, "Gerard has twisted his way into Allison's head, the same way he did with Kate. And I'm losing her. Lizzie's losing her best friend. And I know you're losing her, too."

Hanging her head low, Lizzie reflected back to Allison. It was true, she'd been so off recently, so uninterested in anything but what her grandfather had to say.

"You're right. So, can you trust me to fix this?" Scott's confidence lifted as Chris nodded, hope glistening. "Then, can you let us go?"

"No..."

Chris Argent had already made his decision.

"My car's faster."

✯☾✯

An awkward but determined car journey with Chris had led them to a foggy area of a vast expanse of buildings and storage facilities.

"I think he stopped moving." Isaac alerted the group as he stepped out the car, glancing over his shoulder at the body laid carefully over the cream seats.

Chris was impatient, eager for this to be over, to get his daughter back, "Where's Derek?"

And as he spoke the words, like he was listening, Derek appeared, bounding on all fours down an unknown alleyway.

Now this, as it would anybody, unnerved Lizzie slightly so she clasped her hand in Isaac's for comfort. Isaac broke a small smile at the contact, shuffling closer to her.

When Derek finally arrived at the group's feet, he flashed his alpha, red eyes and stood, unhappy with Chris' presence.

Sensing his agitation, The Argent rolled his eyes, "I'm doing this for Jackson. Not you."

"Somehow, I don't find that very comforting."

Lizzie believed their demonstration of testosterone was purely for show. She bet neither of them could remember why they hated each other. Obviously, she didn't have a good memory herself.

"Get him inside."

Chris, Scott, Lizzie and Isaac crowded back into the car and it was driven into a large warehouse, parked and concealed in the corner.

The absence of light in the empty space created an atmosphere of uncertainty and anticipation. The only illumination came from faint beams of moonlight filtering through dusty windows or dim emergency exit signs, casting eerie shadows that danced across the room.

Lizzie's eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness, making it difficult to discern the details of the surroundings, she and Isaac gripped a hold of each other. The silence was punctuated only by the distant echoes of the footsteps on the concrete floor, amplifying the feeling of seclusion.

"You okay?" Isaac whispered through dusty air as he felt Lizzie lean into him.

Lizzie pressed her face into the boy's arm, squeezing her eyes shut, "Yeah, of course."

Isaac didn't believe it for one second and obviously called bullshit, yet, he chose comforting words over teasing.

"I've got you."

The sound of Derek's very loud counterpart in argument with Scott pulled the pair out of their moment, the two shuffling through the dark to join everyone else.

"Think about it, Scott! Gerard controls him now. He's turned Jackson into his own personal guard dog, and he set all of this in motion so that Jackson could get even bigger and more powerful."

Derek was crouched over Jackson's half open body bag, his voice angered.

Chris shook his head in protest, "No. No, he wouldn't do that. If Jackson's a dog, he's turning rabid, and my father wouldn't let a rabid dog live."

"Of course not..."

"Holy shit!" Lizzie practically jumped out of her skin.

With the new voice came an emerging figure. Gerard. He stood across the warehouse from them, cowardly slinking within the shadows.

"Anything that dangerous, that out of control... is better off dead."

A pained gasp came from beside them. The kanima's claws were embedded deep inside Derek's stomach, using it as leverage to throw him off to the side.

The room tensed, Chris pulled his gun from his coat and a second weapon, lifting them at the ready.

Gerard approached the group, patronising them with every step.

"Well done to the last, Scott. Like the concerned friend you are, you brought Jackson to Derek to save him. You just didn't realize that you were also bringing Derek to me."

A whistling arrow flew from the darkness, past Lizzie's head and into Isaac's chest.

His hand slipped from Lizzie's grip as he stumbled and fell backwards onto the hard floor.

Lizzie's eyes widened, mirroring her shock and concern as she registered what happened.

Dropping to her knees beside him, her heart clenched in anguish, she muttered to herself.

"Allison!" She heard Scott shout from behind her, confirming the Argent girl's presence. Shaking off what was going on behind her, Lizzie wrapped her fingers round the arrow, refusing to meet Isaac's eyes and yanked it out.

A groan of pain ordered a mumble of apologies from the pixie. Her gaze remained fixed on the wound, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight. Her brows furrowed, expressing her deep concern and empathy. She instinctively reached out, and lay her hand on his chest, concentrating.

A mesmerizing, almost signature glow of purple radiated, casting an enchanting aura in its surroundings. Of course, Isaac could heal himself, Lizzie was just speeding up the process.

Something slid across the floor beside her, glistening in the violet lighting. A knife. And it was meant for her. She knew who's it was. The C.A engraved on the handle made it very obvious.

Scott appeared next to the girl as shots were fired from behind, the pair working together to haul Isaac up and drag him to a separate section of the warehouse.

With Isaac's enhanced healing and Lizzie's own powers, the wound had disappeared in no time. Derek's growl became the catalyst for the three to stand.

Isaac and Scott had transformed, their faces merged with the wolf like features, one either side of Lizzie. And the pixie herself, blade in one hand and fizzing golden in the other, stared directly ahead.

Derek and Isaac threw themselves foreword first. They worked well together as they were used to fighting side by side in their training but, alas, each were thrown separate ways, defeated.

With an enthusiastic yet clueless demeanour, Lizzie flipped the knife around in her hand, forcing herself to get used to it. Clumsily gripping the weapon, she examined it with a mix of curiosity and excitement. Her mind blanked as she tried to decipher its intricacies, completely oblivious to its intended purpose and proper usage.

A hiss sliced the odd silence from a proximity Lizzie didn't realise. The kanima stalked hungrily towards her, tongue darting out and tail swishing.

Where the hell did Scott go?

Lizzie's head swivelled around, searching, until the kanima became way to close for comfort.

It swiped its claws out in a way Lizzie only just dodged with a yelp. She jump backwards as it's scaly limb darted out again.

The third time, her hand flew up, the ball of light she'd been creating shooting out from her palm and putting a pause in the kanima's access to vision. Using this to her advantage, Lizzie lodged the knife in it's stomach and pushed it backwards. An inhumane noise of pain escaped it's scaled lips that once released, transformed into one of anger.

It bared it's teeth, vision slowly returning and Lizzie pulled the knife out from it's stomach, ready to strike once more just as the kanima twisted it's arm and forcefully dug it's claws into Lizzie's wrist.

She didn't scream out in pain as it was over soon, the claws ripped out of her as Scott tackled Dr Connors to the ground.

The next moments, the fight between the kanima and Scott grew brutal and bloody. Lizzie did the best she could to help, hurling her balls of light to weaken the son of a bitch. And she was helping. She truly was.

Her strength overcame her, granting her more power and more light energy to keep going. To keep helping. Because that's what she did. That's what she'd always do.

The slicing of flesh and cry out caused Lizzie to falter. Isaac.

The kanima took control, hurling Scott into a wall and rushing to it's master's command.

And, in a horrific turn of events, what Gerard instructed it to do was not what was to be expected. The lizard-like creature, Jackson, curled it's claws around Allison's throat.

Everyone stopped.

"Not yet, sweetheart." Gerard tutted. He was in complete control.

"What are you doing?" Allison cried out to her grandfather, scared and confused.

Scott understood immediately, "He's doing what he came here to do."

"Then you know." Gerard stated but the words came out more like a question.

"What's he talking about?" Allison asked between ragged breaths.

It didn't take long for everything to click into place in Gerard's mind. "It was the night outside the hospital, wasn't it? When I threatened your mother. I knew I saw something in your eyes. You could just smell it, couldn't you?"

Isaac looked from his crouch on the floor, panting as his wounds healed, "He's dying."

Gerard nodded, agreeing immediately. "I am. I have been for a while now, Unfortunately, science doesn't have a curse for cancer yet... But the supernatural does."

Allison gasped out for air and with one sharp look from Gerard, the kanima tightened it's claws around her neck.

"You monster." Chris snarled through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at the man who held his daughter's life in his hands.

"Not yet."

"What are you doing?" Another strangled cry came from Allison. Her airways constricted further.

"You'll kill her too?" Chris questioned, voice cracking and shaking.

"When it comes to survival? I'd kill my own son!"

The booming of Gerard's voice pulled Chris back on his heels. The true reality of what his father was kicking him in the stomach.

"Scott." Gerard called for the boy. Grit his teeth and bear it. That was all Scott needed to do for the next few moments. And he did.

His wolf features disappeared. He glanced round the room, avoiding eye contact, and crossed the floor.

Derek was the first to figure out what was going on as he was approached and forced up from the ground.

"Scott, don't. You know that he's gonna kill me right after. He'll be an Alpha."

Gerard barley battered an eyelid. He was bored of waiting. "That's true. But I think he already knows that, don't you, Scott?"

The old man had all the attention, so, he continued.

"He knows that the ultimate prize is Allison. Do this small task for me, and they can be together. You are the only piece that doesn't fit, Derek. And, in case you haven't learned yet, there is just no competing with young love."

Lizzie diverted her eyes from Gerard taking his jacket off, preparing for the bite, and tried to ignore Derek's begs.

"Scott?"

That. That voice. Scott paused for only a split second, but, Lizzie noticed it.

"I'm sorry," He locked eyes with her, taking in her slightly messed up hair and her innocent face, ownership of small patches of dirt and blood. "But i have to."

It was a disturbing sight. The forcing of a bite. Raw screams and yells shattered the place. Lizzie stood on her own, her safety net on the other side of the room. She couldn't go to him. Not with Allison's life on the line.

And when all was said and done, Gerard held his arm up, freshly bitten, welcoming his new self. Or what he thought it was.

Black, cascading liquid seeped from the wound. The triumphant smile on Gerard's face faded as he noticed it, retorting to panic and accusation.

"What is this? What did you do?"

A smug but collected Scott turned to Derek. "Everyone said Gerard always had a plan. I had a plan too."

"Mountain ash!" Gerard declared furiously, tugging everyone to realisation with him. He dropped to his knees, becoming weak and blood began to trickle down his pasty skin. Then he hurled, a great water fountain of black liquid.

Scott had tricked him, swapped his pills out, poisoned him. Scott McCall had tricked Gerard Argent and by the looks of it, the old man wasn't very happy.

"Kill them!" He ordered his kanima, his body was failing. He wasn't going out easy. "Kill them all!"

Jackson didn't even make it two steps. A highly familiar jeep came crashing through, pummelling straight into Jackson and sending him. fucking. flying.

"Did i get him?" A voice came from inside the vehicle.

Nope. The indestructible were-lizard was up again. It leapt onto of the hood of the jeep and hissed dangerously.

With an erratic scream, Stiles and Lydia tumbled out the car. Stiles headed straight for Scott and Lizzie who now joined them.

But, Lydia stood herself in front of Jackson, calling his name. Stiles jumped forward to run to her aid but Scott pushed him back.

She held something in her hand. A key. A brass key. And that would be the object to bring dear old Jackson back.

Scales dissolved, eyes dilated from slits to pupils and claws retracted.

There was Jackson. He took the key in his hand and studied it until every last slimy part of kanima had gone.

Jackson stumbled backwards, collecting his strength.

More movement. Two Hales. They pounced forward, jamming their claws into Jackson's stomach. He was changing.

It was all very dramatic.

Caught up in the moment, too caught up, Lizzie had failed to notice that Jackson was naked. But, Stiles had. He lifted his hand to block Lizzie's view of everything.

She couldn't see. But, she heard it. She heard the roar guiding Jackson's wolf and the proclamation of love which Stiles watched with teary eyes.

She turned to him, heart lifting with happiness and wrapped her arms round his side. He was trapped in a very forceful hug which he could do nothing but return.

"You okay?" Her words were muffled by the fabric of Stiles' grey shirt.

Stiles sniffed away his tears. "He scratched my jeep."

Lizzie squeezed him tighter, practically squeezing the life out of him, "I'll fix it."

✯☾✯

On a cool morning, a serene ambiance settled over the lacrosse pitch, creating a refreshing and invigorating atmosphere. The dew-kissed grass glistened under the gentle sunlight, casting a mesmerizing glow across the field.

The morning light casted long shadows on the field, creating a dynamic interplay of light and dark. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the shadows gradually receded, revealing the full beauty of the pitch.

The lacrosse goals stood tall and imposing at each end, their netting poised to receive or deflect the fast-flying balls. The metallic frames glinted softly in the sunlight, providing a striking contrast against the surrounding greenery.

Between them were two friends. Two best friends.

Scott McCall landed from his daydream, "Hey, you know what i just realised? I'm right back where i started."

Stiles caught the ball thrown in his lacrosse net, "What do you mean?"

"I mean, no lacrosse, no popularity, no girlfriend. Nothing." Surprisingly, Scott seemed pretty proud of that.

Offended, Stiles interjected, "Dude, you still got me!"

Scott shook his head smiled, "I had you before."

"Yeah, and you still got me. Plus, we have Lizzie now."

Scott chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"Hey, guys!"

Speak of the pixie.

The boys whipped round to face the direction the soft voice floated from.

Lizzie Brown stood at her full 5'2 height in a small patch of daisies. Her hair was tied back with a butterfly hair tie and beige overalls hung loose around her body.

"Watch this!" She exclaimed delightedly.

Both Scott and Stiles grew nervous, narrowing their eyes and waiting for something to blow up.

But, Lizzie promptly turned round, held her hands out and did a cartwheel.

She spun back, waiting for their reaction.

"Wow, Lizzie! Well done!"

"We're so proud of you!"

They smiled back at her when she clapped her hands.

A beat.

The boys shared a knowing look.

If it wasn't for Lizzie Brown.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮

aannnnd that's a wrap for season 2
god this is so long like almost 9000 words but it is a finale after all
i hope you all caught the parallel in the lizzie and isaac kiss. how we feeling about that btw?
thank you so much for readinggg
see you in season three lovelies!!!