duodécima luna. [a stiles fanfic]

catorce.

"Pick up, pick up, pick up." Stiles chanted as he listened to the ringing beeps. There was no answer and it went straight to voice-mail. With a huff, he decided to leave a voice-mail. Again.

"Hey Vio, it's Stiles again. Look, Derek, Isaac, Erica and Boyd are all outside Scott's house trying to get to Lydia who we have. I know she failed the test but I swear to you she's not the... the bad thing everything says she is. Look, we could really use your help. I texted you his address but here it is. It's-" the message cut off and Stiles swore under his breath, cursing whoever decided the amount of seconds you were allowed to leave voice messages.

"I think I'm gonna have to call my dad." Allison said.

"No, no, no." Stiles said. "If you do then you and Scott—"

"I know." Allison replied. "But they're not here to scare us, they're here to kill Lydia."

Stiles ran a hand over his head. He glanced down to where her crossbow lay. "Do you think you could then maybe shoot one of them?"

"What?"

"Shoot one of them." Stiles repeated, thinking about the plan that was formulating in his head. "If one of them gets hurt then they might flee." Allison stared at him, the panic clear on her face. "Look, we said we could fight back so let's fight back."

"Okay, okay." Allison said, convinced. She looked back out the window. "Which one?"

Stiles immediately went to the tall leader stood in the middle. "Uh, Derek. Yeah, shoot Derek. Preferably in the head." He added.

"If Scott can catch an arrow then Derek definitely can."

"Then shoot one of the other three."

"You mean two?"

"What?" Stiles said, going back to the window. "Wait, where's Isaac?" As he asked the question, the werewolf came stalking up from the back. The werewolf in question immediately went for Allison first, knowing she was the one who had a higher chance of causing him harm. When he threw her down, Isaac immediately rounded on the scrawny human. Seeing Stiles down on the floor, he allowed his eyes to flash, savouring the fear in the human boy's eyes. He took a step forward but found himself walking into a barrier. He frowned and tried again but found that he couldn't past some invisible force. Stiles sat up and a smile came on his face, realising what was happening.

"What is this?" Isaac seethed.

Stiles let out a peal of shocked laughter, feeling smug. It was beyond that. He felt proud. Proud sounded better because rather than it be him who one-upped Isaac, it was Violeta.

The very same girl who came up behind Isaac with a baseball bat. With a swift thwack, Isaac was knocked to the the side. She then dropped the bat and Stiles saw how she spun her wrist and the way the bat started rolling in his direction. Sure, it wasn't much considering everything but he held onto it tight. It was better than nothing.

"You really wanna do this?" She asked the werewolf. Stiles stared at her back. She was dressed in typical 90s hip-hop rapper wear and Stiles' eyes flickered to the black and white Converse that matched the ones covering his own feet.

"Why?" Isaac asked, standing up. "Because you're you? Violeta Rodriguez?" 

She tilted her neck to one side, cracking it. The emphasis on her name was clear and Stiles gulped, sensing that Isaac was now privy to just what she was. Violeta, however, paid no attention to that. "Yes, I'm motherfucker who's about to beat some sense back into you."

Isaac lunged. Violeta, unphased and prepared, delivered a quick punch to his throat which made him step back, grabbing it. She then reached for his shoulders and kneed him in the balls. Hard. So hard that even Stiles grabbed his own, wincing for Isaac. Kneeling in pain on the floor, Violeta finished it with a resounding slap across his face.