making bad decisions.
___
WITH ISAAC LAHEY STILL A KEY SUSPECT in his father's murder, he had to spend his days hidden away with Derek. No longer able to be seen at school since he had been broken out of his holding cell.
It's been two days since Paxton, Stiles and Derek had to save the boy from himself. She had spew out some of her best lies to Charlie as to why a Black Camaro, infamously belonging to Derek, had dropped her off at their house. He didn't believe a word she said which only made him push for their needed conversation. Of course, she was quick to push it away. Finding an excuse in "I'm too tired to talk".
Nearing the end of the school day, she couldn't feel more lonely with the lack of Isaac around. She'd grown to find comfort in him though they rarely spoke at school. She didn't know how long it would be before she could talk to him again and his stay with Derek only worries her as to what would happen to the boy.
She could spend her time talking to Stiles and Scott, but guilt had a funny effect on her. With the last conversation with Scott ending with in an argument, and the last she had spoken with Stiles turning into an attack by a man sent to hurt Isaac, she feels the need to keep herself away from them. To close herself off.
They were a ledge and if she steps too close, she's bound to fall off the cliff.
She enters a crowded gymnasium split with two classes. A gym class with a merge of grades playing a mean game of basketball on one side of the court, while her class takes up the other side.
Her usual teacher took the day off, leaving their class in the hands of a substitute. Well, in the hands of Coach, who decided to fill his spare time with teaching the students 'what it means to be physically active". Many jokes were made about his unbeknownst sexual innuendo, to which he replied with a rant about how the students need to get their heads out of the gutter.
She joins her class as the man's rambling fades along with the laughter. She looks up to the towering rock wall ahead of her, her feet meeting a mat that protects anyone in case they fall.
"If we had a regular sub, we would be doing something easy like walking," she groans quietly as she meets Lydia and Allison's side. Allison offers a small wave to the girl, "hey," she responds with a smile.
"I was hoping for volleyball, this has to be a safety hazard," Lydia replies, glaring up to the rock wall with displease.
"First up, Allison, McCall," Coach orders while he pushes students away from the mat to give them room.
Of course they're paired together, even Coach can pick up on the subtle hints they leave behind their hidden trail of a relationship.
Allison sighs, "wish me luck," she mutters before stepping onto the mat.
She didn't need luck, not even when Scott smirks arrogantly as he stands by her side. Though he hates to publicly use his abilities, he couldn't wait to use them to his advantage now. They're both equally competitive, making their race to the top painfully obvious of their attraction to one another.
As the reach the middle of the wall, they share a few words which cause Allison to hurry to the top. But not fast enough for Scott to reach her before she could ring the bell waiting above them. His bell dings first, announcing him as the winner.
Allison rolls her eyes just before kicking him in the shin. She quickly turns her head to hide her growing smile as Scott falls to mat below, gracefully, secured in a harness.
"McCall, I don't know why but your pain gives me a special kind of joy," Coach chuckles as he hovers over the boy. He reaches a hand out, helping Scott up while Allison flies down the wall and lands beside them. "Uh, okay, Bridger, Stilinski."
Paxton huffs with the thought that the one person she had been avoiding is now who she has to compete against.
She shares a shy smile to Lydia before pushing through the crowd of people in between her and the wall.
"This'll be easy, little Bridger," Coach high-fives her, proud that his team manager would surely beat Stiles.
Her widened eyes scan the towering wall. Colorful, plastic ledges clutter in a strategic disarray. It would be terrible timing for her to admit her fear of heights.
She glances to Stiles from the corner of her eye, he shakes his hands by his side to build his courage. He turns to her, catching her in the act of staring. He smirks before looking away.
Coach blows a whistle, telling them to start. He gives her no time to recover from being caught staring longer than she normally would. Stiles starts up the wall while she stays behind, still overthinking.
She snaps out of it, hurrying up the wall. She catches up to him while avoiding the drop to death below her. They move further up together, mirroring each other's exact movements. Even down to the few seconds of thoughtfully choosing the next move. When he moved left, she goes right. Lucky for her, she's quicker to the top.
She pulls the rope of the bell, ringing in her victory. A second later, Stiles does too.
She looks to the floor beneath them, the crowded class talking in separated groups. Her breath hitches, stuck in her throat as her feet sticks the small ledge she clings to. She hasn't thought this far, to allow her body to fall with the safety promised in her harness.
Stiles notices her hesitation, he'd been waiting for her to go down first. "It's okay, just close your eyes," he leans his head towards her, whispering his comfort.
Her eyes locked in his, she nods slowly. Trusting his words.
She may have beat him to the top but he reaches the mat before her. Before she lands, his hand finds her's to guide her down. The simple touch shocks her eyes open.
The room cheer, celebrating her win. Unaware of how the mundane contact frightens her more than the fear of heights.
"Good job," he says as his hand lowers.
She unhooks her harness, "you too," she says simply despite her nerves.
"Atta girl!" Coach smacks her back while she tries to escape into the crowd of peers.
She hides in the group, finding her way to Lydia and Allison without another look to Stiles. Behind her friends, she spots a girl trembling at the sight of the rock wall.
Paxton offers her a friendly smile, "hey, it'll be okay. Just don't look down," she tries to soothe the girl's obvious fright.
She doesn't look at Paxton, her eyes never move from the top of the wall.
"Erica, Danny," Coach calls the next victims of his physical torture.
The class roars for Danny, clapping and cheering him on as he steps up to the mat. Erica continues to shake from fear as she nervously follows behind Danny. Her curly, blonde falls into her eyes in a mess.
Coach blows his whistle which instantly sends Danny climbing up the wall. The way she looks to it, you'd believe it could come alive and attack her.
After a moment passes, Erica finds the strength to start climbing. Paxton almost cheers for her until the ringing of Danny's bell fills the gym. Once it stops ringing, silence is the only thing left.
The class looks to Erica clinging to the plastic ledges. Her breathing picks up as she begins to whimper.
"Please," she cries between hyperventilating breaths.
Everyone crowds the mat, unsure how to help. "Erica, are you dizzy? Is it vertigo?" Coach shouts up to the girl, unhelpful in the situation.
"Vertigo's a dysfunction of the vestibular system in the inner ear. She's just freaking out," Lydia informs him, also unhelpful.
Paxton glares to the group of students behind her as they laugh, forcing them to stop.
"Coach, maybe it's not safe. You know she's epileptic," Allison adds to conversation in between each heave the girl let's out.
"W-why doesn't anybody tell me this stuff? Epi-epileptic?" he scoffs, trying to figure out the correct pronunciation of the disorder. "Erica, you're fine, just kick off the wall. The mat will catch you."
Erica gathers her strength, with the loss of her dignity, and allows herself to trust the harness. Shaking, she lands safely with both feet on the mat. More laughter is heard around the class, embarrassing the poor girl more.
"You're fine," Coach tries to comfort her with a hand on her shoulder while she removes the harness. It does the opposite of comfort, just points out her burning tears.
She swallows before pushing through the crowd that makes an opening for her, all snickering and gossiping as she passes them by. The entire gym watches as the tension fades with her exit of the room.
Coach with no idea how to handle the situation, gathers his class's attention with his whistle. "Uh, listen up, if anyone sees Isaac Lahey, you immediately tell the principal, get a teacher, or call me. Except for you, Greenberg, don't call me for anything. Now, go get changed, class is over."
"We have another thirty minutes," someone points out in the crowd.
"Well, do some laps, I don't know," Coach responds, quickly realizing he never wants to substitute another class again.
The class heads off in their own direction, choosing between walking laps around the gym or changing in the locker rooms. Leaving Paxton alone while Scott and Stiles carries on their own conversation behind her.
"Isaac?" Scott questions, looking to Stiles.
"It's Derek's problem now," he responds without a care of Isaac.
She wants to disagree, to argue about how selfish that would be to leave Isaac's fate in the hands of the man that put him in the situation. She had a savior complex that even now, after being attacked trying to help Isaac, wouldn't go away.
Stiles' choice of words weren't selfish and Scott would agree. They know that Derek's new 'alpha' title meant he's going to protect his beta.
They just hadn't been around Derek like she has. They wouldn't know how Derek has turned dark compared to how he once was. The power too much to handle, and it's just the start. She had been there to witness Derek's lack of care, but she hadn't been around Stiles and Scott enough to inform them of things she saw in their absence and she wasn't about to start another conversation she had been avoiding.
She stomps pass the boys, wanting them to notice her displease. They notice but not enough to stop her from leaving the gym along with the rest of the students.
After changing into her regular clothes she finds her way back into the halls, searching for Lydia or Allison. But they were long gone. Instead, someone found her. Or, rather, ran into her.
She turns around, looking to see who rudely shoved into her. Erica, in her grey sweatshirt and messy blonde hair makes her way into the now emptied gym. Paxton follows her without another thought.
The gym is dark, nothing but a single light shining down on the rock wall. There's no on around except for Erica, who boldly stands before the wall. Paxton stays at the door until it shuts quietly, not wanting to alarm the girl who doesn't know she's there.
Erica starts up the wall with no safety gear, leaving Paxton to be the lonely witness to how terrible things were about to go. As she goes further up each ledge, Paxton takes another step forward. Staying in the shadows cautiously so the girl wouldn't frighten into falling.
Erica begins to tremble the same as she did before, struggling to breathe. She pushes through it, continuing to reach the top but with every step, a whimper escapes. She's running out of time, pushing herself too hard. She pauses once again, this time longer than before.
Paxton takes off, not worried about scaring her. Erica's too preoccupied by stumbling off the wall to notice her running.
The gym door shuts behind her, forcing her to look at who had come inside the gym. Stiles rushes towards them. She looks back to the wall but Erica was no longer there. Her body falls through the air, bringing Paxton's feet to a halt. When Erica lands, she doesn't hit the wooden floor. Instead, Scott appears out of thin air, catching her before her head could reach the floor.
Paxton and Stiles circles around Erica as she convulses in Scott's arms. Scott, panicked, looks up to them begging them to tell him how to help her.
"Put her on her side!" Paxton joins Scott's panic, "she's having a seizure, roll her over!" she ignores their questioning stares.
When Scott freezes up, she crouches in front of him. She wraps her arms around Erica, carefully putting her on her side so she wouldn't choke. He holds onto her, steadying her body.
"How'd you know?" she asks Scott, Erica's convulsing coming to an end.
He doesn't know how to answer, he had no reason to go back to the gym. He just sensed it, like Derek had taught him. "I just.. felt it."
She nods, "maybe Derek isn't all that bad," she mutters while brushing the hair from Erica's closed eyes.
"You're kidding, right?" She turns around to Stiles, hurt displayed across his face. "You can't actually be serious."
"I don't know what I am, Stiles."
"Well, you know what Derek is and we all know he turned Isaac because he was weak. What do you think he's gonna do when he hears about her?"
She shakes her head, pushing herself off the floor with her hands on her knees. "I'll see you guys later," she says without a look their direction, heading straight to the door.
|
"You can't keep doing this, Derek!" she follows him to his car outside of the abandoned building he and Isaac resides in.
She hadn't gone there with the intention of yelling at him. But she knew Stiles was right. She also wanted to see Isaac, curious to how he's doing now that the entire town is looking for him. He was more than happy to see her, living with Derek had been dull. She was weary when he pulled her into a hug, the last time she had seen him he threw a man against a wall and nearly killed him. Blamed on the full moon but it still scared her. After they caught up, she noticed Derek sneaking out. She asked Isaac what he was up to and he told her everything.
So she followed him, needing to reason with him before he turns every teenager with a bad history into his toys.
"You're going to stop me?" he smirks, belittling her ability to fight him.
She watches as he open his car door. "Yes, yes I am," she tries to stay confident but that rarely suited her. "Or, at least try to," she adds honestly. "Look, just because something happens to a person, that doesn't mean they want to be like you."
"Sometimes, they do. I'm helping them," he argues, truly believing himself.
"You're going against their will!"
"I'm giving them an option."
"And what if they say no, Derek? What're you gonna do when they call the police? Any sane person would run off and tell someone that they're being chased down and asked if they wanna turn into a werewolf."
"Well you know and you haven't told the police. What's stopping you?"
She looks to the pavement, the anger she once held disappearing. She chews the inside of her cheek while she thinks carefully of how to respond.
"Stiles, that's who's stopping me. If I go to the cops, the first person you'll see here would be Noah Stilinski. Asking questions that he can't know the answer to. He'll get killed in this life just like the rest of us. Stiles' already lost one parent, and we both know what it's like to lose both."
He nods, jutting his lip out as he comes to an understanding. "What if I give you the bite?" he teases her though the darkness in his voice sends a shiver down her spine.
"You wouldn't do that," she responds quietly.
"But I could," he holds his power over her head.
It's hard to stop someone as stubborn as he is. He wouldn't know a bad choice if it looked him in the eyes. He has to learn the hard way, and he always does.
They pull into the front of the hospital. The sign alone sends her stomach sinking. Once the car's parked, Derek jumps from his seat as if it were on fire. He walks inside before she could fight him on his choice.
She hates hospitals, always has. She had two options; get over her fear or let another innocent be forced into a life they might not want. She contemplates all the ways to stop him but it's no use. She couldn't stop him no matter what option she chooses.
But she couldn't wait around. Sitting back and watching is worse than trying, even if she couldn't hold her ground with the man.
She runs as fast as possible inside while trying to look discreet. She casually waltzes to the check-in desk to find a nurse who she can ask where Erica's room is. She waits and waits for one but with no luck, the waiting room is already full. Doctors and nurses rushing around, it's a busy night.
She squeezes pass the people crowding the lobby, breaking out into the entrance of a hallway that leads to an elevator. It dings and the doors open, slow and steady. The opposite of Paxton's frightened breathing.
She comes to halt as Derek and Erica walk down the hall. She looks different, happier. As if her prayers had been answered, she walks with a smirk in the same clothes she had on at school.
Derek glances to Paxton, his hardened stare telling her it's too late.
Before they pass her, Erica stops them from getting any further. "Thank you," she turns around to face Paxton's back.
She bites back her lip, using all of her strength to not snap.
"Derek said he wouldn't have done it if it weren't for you," Erica laughs.
She nods as she listens to the sound of their footsteps leaving her behind. Alone in the hall of the hospital, a place where she wished she never had to see again, she tries her best not to break. To be strong, not let the tears flow.
She calls the first person on her mind, asking him for a ride.
"Paxton, honey, is everything okay?" a voice breaks her from the daze, she looks up from her phone to see Melissa McCall.
She smiles as best she can. "Yeah, everything's fine."
"Hey, how's those stitches, it's all healed?"
For a moment, Paxton couldn't remember what she had been talking about. It had all been so long ago. Really, it had been less than a month ago.
"Yeah, all healed," she smiles, looking down to the leg that Melissa had to stitch up the night she had been trapped inside the school. "Just left a nasty scar."
"Time heals all wounds," she replies wisely.
Paxton's smile fades, thinking deeper on her words. "I hope so," she mumbles, not letting Melissa hear her sadness.
The woman shares a goodbye before getting back to her job. Perfect timing, her phone chimes with a message that Stiles is waiting outside. She inhales, closing her eyes, before facing the many truths she needs to tell him.
Coming face to face with his worry, she quickly pushes those truths away. She hops in the passenger seat, her expression blank as she looks to the windshield.
"Are you okay?"
Could she even answer that honestly?
"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine."
He clicks his tongue, "yeah, but I didn't ask about everything. I asked about you."
"I'm fine, too," she smiles, fake as ever.
He sighs, leaning his arm against the window. His fingers comforts his chin and lips. He once believed to be past the guard she puts up. For maybe an hour, he was able to say anything to her and vice versa. But they both knew things hadn't been the same since the night at the Hale house.
"You'll tell me when things aren't fine, right?"
They pull into her driveway, faster than her thoughts could keep up. "Fuck," is all she could mutter out.
Charlie stands outside of Jackson's car, talking to him from outside his window. He leans up from his arm atop the roof, looking over to his sister in the passenger seat of Stiles' jeep. Anger would be an understatement of the emotion across his face. He slaps the roof of Jackson's car, telling him a quick goodbye before making his way to his sister.
"Fuck," she repeats, sinking into her seat.
"Paxton!" Charlie yells from outside her window.
"Oh, my god, lock the doors," she tells Stiles, still sinking into her seat. He listens, though he doesn't know why.
"Paxton," he says again, now knocking on her window. "Where's my car?"
She rubs her forehead in an attempt to free the stress. It doesn't help, so she sits up in her seat before cracking her window. "Hey," she squeaks out, "I was just about to get it."
"You stole my car and you didn't even drive it back home!"
"Hey, hey, stole is a big word. It's technically both of our's."
"No, it's not."
"Okay, well, when you put it like that.."
"Just get my car," he sighs, rubbing his forehead the same as her.
"Yep," she gives him a thumbs-up, all while avoided eye contact. She looks to Stiles with wide eyes, trying to tell him to start driving.
"And, when you get back, we're having that talk."
She nods, not that she agrees. Stiles reverses out of the driveway while Charlie starts off towards the house. Her leg bounces against the floorboard while she picks at her fingers.
"At least I know I'm not the only one you need to talk to," Stiles breaks the silence, taking his eyes off the road to look at her.
She shakes her head, not having the patience to talk anymore. "The car's at the old train depot."
"The— what, why?"
"Don't ask questions that you don't have the answer for."
"Seems like you have the answer."
She rolls her eyes before looking at him. He fights the smile growing, finding a bittersweet moment between them. "This is the most we've talked in weeks."
She huffs a short laugh. "I've missed it."
He glances to her, catching her before she could look away. He smiles, looking to how shy she suddenly is. "So, how're you going to tell Charlie about.. everything."
"I'm not," she swallows. "I— I can't."
"What's stopping you?"
She laughs again, this time with more bitter. She looks out of her window, watching the trees pass and then to the lights that brighten the street. "It used to be to protect him, now I know it's the same reason I haven't talked to you."
He stays silent, giving her the space to speak freely. Curious to what she means yet knowing exactly what she's about to say.
"I'm so afraid, Stiles. Afraid that it's all going to be the same, that we're always gonna see this hurt. I can't watch.. him get hurt, I can't. And, I guess I thought pushing it away, not telling you things.. I thought it would," she pauses, not knowing how to word her feelings.
"That night, Peter said something that stuck with me, along with everything else that happened. It was along the lines of, 'you shouldn't love anyone, they'll only die.' I haven't stopped thinking about it and I can only think of a few people I have left that I love. So, I pushed them away."
They sit in the discomforting silence as the city lights pass by around them. He knew that night broke a piece of her but now it's obvious that she'll never be the same.
"So, you love me?" he asks with a smile, joking instead of a reasonable response to her out pour of emotions.
She doesn't mind his humor, actually she craved it. "Well, yeah. I love you and I love my brother, and Scott, Lydia, Allison.. and Isaac. You know, I think we say that we love each other less than we should."
"Isaac?" he questions, not yet aware of how their friendship had grown in the short amount of time.
She subtly laughs at how he managed to skip over her sentiment. "Yeah, Isaac. He's not a bad person, I think that's why I got involved with the mess that Derek's created."
"What mess?"
She turns to him, wide-eyed. She hadn't realized how much he didn't know until now. Usually she had been the one with no information. "When your dad found us at the cemetery, he didn't know that Derek was the one that helped us. It's how he met Isaac. The night of Kate's funeral, I went to Isaac's house. His dad.. well, after some stuff happened, we ended up at the train station. That's where Derek lives now. He turned Isaac. He turned Erica, too, an hour ago. He's making a pack."
"You were there when his father died?"
"Yeah," she swallows.
"That's why you were so afraid to go to the principal, you thought my dad found out you were there. That you're a witness."
"Or, an accomplice."
The two go quiet, the possibility of Paxton killing someone had never crossed his mind but suddenly, he doesn't know her as well as he thought.
"But you're not, right?"
"No, I didn't kill him and neither did Isaac. Isaac's innocent, actually he's too innocent for all of this. That's why I have to help him, he was my friend before Derek turned him. I'd like to keep the friendship even if Derek has him brainwashed."
"Brainwashed?"
"I couldn't even talk about Derek without Isaac getting defensive," she shakes her head, missing how her friend used to be. "I'm afraid that Derek's gonna get them killed. Not purposefully— no, I just think he's just in over his head. I mean.." she sighs, throwing her head back against the leather seat, "I don't know what I mean, I'm just scared. And, whatever did kill Isaac's dad is still out there."
He turns his head to her instantly, "what do you mean 'whatever', do you think it was a werewolf or.."
She meets his gaze, "well, what else could it be? I don't think it's a berserker— or, whatever the hell you brought up when we went looking for a cure."
"That was a fun night," he smiles softly, looking back at the road.
"I almost got shot, like, in the face."
"Yeah but you didn't," he shrugs, trying to remain optimistic. "Besides, it just felt like old times. Just us and Scott."
"Yeah, it was nice. Now, I feel like it'll never be just us again."
She watches the sidewalk from her window, wishing they could all go back to a time where none of this happened.
"Do you think if none of this ever happened, we'd be friends again?" she asks the first thought on her aching mind.
He pauses for a moment. At some point, he had thought about it with various outcomes. "I've thought about it a lot and, I don't know, I think it was bound to happen. With or without all the supernatural stuff."
A gentle grin across her face, she looks to him with the knowledge that they could both go into more detail about the simple question. It wasn't as simple as it seems with their added history.
Their conversation comes to an end as they pull into the oversized parking lot of the old building. Derek's car is nowhere to be seen, which makes life easier for to take back her brother's car.
"Thanks," she says with her lips pulled tight, hating that she'd have to face her brother once she's home.
She steps out of the Jeep, car keys in hand. "Wait," Stiles stops her, she looks back to him. "Uh, whatever you tell Charlie, we'll understand."
She nods, "I'll see you later," she says before waving her hand goodbye before turning to the car. It meant a lot that no matter what Stiles would support her decision. Unfortunately for Charlie, it doesn't mean she'll be exposing the secret that Scott and Derek have held.
Her ride home was silent, giving her a peace of mind before coming with a spew of lies to tell her worried brother.
Under the warm light of the entry, she places his keys back into the safety of the bowl they stay in. She uses the table to balance herself as she slips her Converses off.
"Did you at least lock it before forgetting it somewhere?" Charlie asks from the doorframe of the kitchen beside her, holding a glass of water.
"I can assure you that all of your shitty CDs and lacrosse gear is still in tact," she replies without a lack of sarcasm.
He huffs, shaking his head. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."
"Is this really how you want to start this?" she asks, though the answer was clear.
"Yeah, yeah it is," he says arrogantly as he places his glass down
"It is?" she steps closer to him, the two ready to brawl like they would when they were children. "Sorry I forgot about your stupid fucking car, I was busy!"
"What could've been more important that you forget an entire vehicle? Or, let me guess, this has something to do with how you sneak out and don't come home until three a.m? How you ended up in the hospital with stitches? Oh, I almost forgot, what about how you left the dance after Lydia Martin was found nearly gutted to death! What the hell have you been hiding?"
"What about you? You're never home, always out with your friends until late, getting drunk or high, or whatever else you do. All you do is spend time with Jackson— who, by the way, is the worst person to be friends with! You're mad that I'm hiding something but all you do is avoid any and everything."
"I'm not avoiding anything, I hate this house! I don't want to be here anymore than you do! Who cares what I do and who I do it with? You think dad cares? Or, mom? You don't see her here do you?"
Her nose flares as she inhales, growing more and more impatient with him. "So why do you care what I do? Who cares what I do?" she repeats his double standard back to him. "You can corner me, make me tell you what I'm hiding but when I ask you, I'm in the wrong."
"I care because I have to protect you!"
"Why do you think I haven't told you anything?" she asks, though she plans to answer before he can. "Because I want to protect you, too."
They sit in silence for a beat before he speaks again. "So you are hiding something?" his head tilts, believing he had caught her.
Really, he'd only avoided the point she trying to make. "I'm over this," she shakes her head before heading toward the stairs.
"Right, walk away like you always do," he mumbles.
Her tongue clicks the roof of her mouth as she exhales the thought of continuing the argument. She heads up the staircase, leaving Charlie to replay their conversation behind her. He wonders if she were right, that she's protecting him by being silent. Though his own stubbornness refuses to believe that she has any real reason to protect him.
|
Eight to ten hours is the recommended amount of sleep for teenagers. Last night, Paxton didn't come close to that, aside from closing her eyes thirty minutes before her alarm went off. Usually, Charlie would wake her up, or at the very least, see if she woke up on her own. This morning, he didn't. After his usual routine, he went straight to his car and waited for her. They leave their house every morning at seven-thirty. Today, she was late by several minutes.
The two didn't say a word the entire drive and once they parked, Charlie disappeared inside the building with Jackson.
Now, she stands before the pale, evil man that is Mr. Harris. Coming up with the courage to ask him to go to the bathroom. She's been in trouble with him more times than she could count and it's obvious by his narrowing glare on her that her troublesome ways wouldn't be overlooked.
"Uh, can I go to the bathroom?"
"The correct for is "may I'."
She chews the inside of her lip, bitter over how every teacher always believes that response is helpful. "Okay," she starts with an impatient sigh, "may I use the bathroom?"
"Someone already asked, wait for her to return."
Her foot taps against the linoleum, "it's an emergency."
"Bridger, there's five minutes left of class. Your emergency can wait."
"This one can't."
The man's thin lips curl into a tight line, "fine you can go, but I expect a five paragraph essay on my desk tomorrow over: why your question is one of the many reasons I hate this job."
"Have you considered getting a new job?" she asks while reaching for a pass on his desk. The man says nothing, but the deadly glare on her makes her feet work fast towards the door, doing more than his words could.
Her exhaustion overwhelms her, she had been walking around the school like a zombie all morning. During her first class, she slept the entire time. She didn't even budge when the bell rang. Stiles had to wake her up, along with handing her the work that she missed.
She finds the nearest bathroom with the hope that cold water could wake her up. The blue-tiled room is empty as she walks further inside. She steps up to the sinks, looking at her reflection staring back at her, sad and devoid of color. Dark circles drown her eyes. Though she sleeps late most nights, this time it took a toll on her body. Her eyes dart from the mirror to paper towels as she reaches for them, then to the sink where she turns on the faucet.
She pats her face with the cold paper towel, feeling a bit more refreshed. As she throws it away, a faint sob sounds from the furthest stall. She looks to it in the mirror, finding the stall in the corner with no lights shining above it.
She tries to talk herself into leaving, but the sobs grow louder. "Is everything, uh, okay?" she nervously asks, her eyes still glued onto the stall.
The cries instantly stop and for a moment she wonders if it could be Erica behind the door. Upset about the choices that Derek had given her.
Her feet guide her to the door feeling a sympathetic pain in her stomach.
A whimper escapes the person behind the door. "This is the girls' room!" a familiar voice in between sobs.
"Lydia?"
Paxton reaches for the door handle, swinging it open. Lydia, with her doe-eyes, widened and red, looks up to Paxton in horror as she dries her tears with tissue.
Paxton reaches for her wrist that holds the tissue, gently pulls the girl. Guiding her away from the stall and towards the sinks. Lydia leans her hip against the counter while Paxton stretches an arm for more paper towels. When she brings the wet material to Lydia's face, she freezes at the sight of her fixated eyes watching the stall she had been in. Nothing is there.
"Lydia, what happened?" she questions, blinking away her frozen state. She reaches her hand out once more, attempting to blot away Lydia's tears.
Instantly, Lydia grips her arm before she could touch her face. Paxton jerks out of her hold, her other hand quick to rub the growing red mark around her wrist.
Lydia stands up, her eyes still wide, she makes a fast exit out of the bathroom doors, leaving Paxton to watch in shock.
Paxton throws away the paper towel before running after Lydia. "Lydia?" she calls her name again as she follows the girl down a flight of stairs, hoping to break her out of the trance she's in.
Lydia finds the lobby of the school as if she were following something but with Paxton close behind, she's unaware of anyone the girl could be following.
She comes to a stop in front of a trophy case, her mouth dropping as her fingers trace the glass, an award behind her hand.
Paxton catches up with her, now afraid to tear her away from her trance, she follows Lydia's gaze to the trophy. A basketball trophy belonging to Peter Hale stares back at them.
"Lydia," she shakes the her shoulders. "Lydia?" she repeats as a tear falls down the girl's cheek.
Paxton could feel her pain, all of the vivid memories of Peter. She couldn't imagine how she must feel, being attacked by the man she had never met.
Suddenly the bell rings and a flood of students crowd the halls. Paxton turns away from Lydia, looking to her classmates. When she turns back around, she's gone. She stands on her tip-toes, hoping an added height could help her disoriented search for Lydia. But, it doesn't, the girl's gone. Lost in a sea of students.
She sighs, giving up in her search for Lydia. Instead, she follows a group of people into the cafeteria; a place where her friends would be so she can fill them in about what happened.
The door into the cafeteria are propped open, she leans against the door frame, hiding behind the crowd that ushers in while she scans for Stiles and Scott. Thinking one of them would be bound to pass her when they go inside.
After losing hope of finding them, she looks for their usual table. Deciding she should just wait for them there. But when she sees that it's empty, she begins to worry. Just before the anxiety could find her, she spots Stiles' buzzed hair out of the mass of people. He sits opposite a boy she could recognize from previous classes.
Curiously, she watches as Stiles passes the boy a wad of cash just before they argue over the amount. She smiles to herself, knowing just by Stiles' exaggerated body language that he has thrown some form of sarcasm at the other boy.
Once their exchange is over, the boy hands him a set of keys and Stiles finds his way to Scott.
Paxton watches them as they sit at their table, following them from a safe distance before rushing down the aisle that leads to them.
She sits beside Stiles, her eyes narrowing between the boys. "What are you two up to?"
"N-nothing," Stiles stumbles out the obvious lie as he pushes her backpack to her. He carried it from their class when he realized she never came back from the bathroom break.
"I just saw you pay Vernon Boyd, he gave you keys?" she reminds him with puzzled brows, wondering why he's being oblivious.
"You saw that?" his eyes widen. "He ripped me off," he adds with the falsity that he's fine that she noticed. He wanted to keep it a surprise.
She stares at him, blinking slowly, still waiting for an answer of what they're doing. Everyone around them turns their heads to the now, less-crowded entrance of the cafeteria. Her gaze never leaves Stiles, not even when she spots Scott from the corner of her eye, turning his direction along with everyone else. Stiles, ignoring her, raises his brows in surprise as he also looks to the door.
She rolls her eyes, looking where everyone else is and wondering what was more important than Stiles answering her. Her mouth drops at the sight of Erica strutting into the lunchroom. The sweatshirt she had last been seen in is now replaced with a form-fitting shirt and a leather jacket. Her cheetah print heels click against the floor, the only sound anyone could hear with the silence of her entrance.
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Paxton groans, throwing her head back so the view of the ceiling greets her.
Erica makes sure to maintain eye contact with everyone as her head's held high, enjoying the pure shock the crowd has. The once outcast is now anything but. She steps up to a familiar table, one where Charlie sits with his lacrosse buddies. She grabs an apple, her fingernails freshly polished with a black coat. She smiles at the boys of the table as she takes a bit of the apple. She's never looked better but the newfound confidence came with a cost that Paxton still feels guilty about.
A pair of hands slam onto their table. "What," Lydia starts, her eyes glued to Erica as Scott, Stiles and Paxton jump at her sudden appearance, "the holy hell is that?"
Completely baffled by Lydia suddenly refreshed look, Paxton glares at her in confusion. Her mind couldn't leave the memory of Lydia crying and following the air just moments ago. How she had led them to a trophy dedicated to the man that traumatized their entire friend group.
"It's.. Erica," Stiles answers with a growing smile.
Paxton looks to him, distracting her from Lydia, her face pulls with disgust as she elbows his side. He scoffs in response, unsure of why she'd dislike his subtle compliment towards Erica.
"She kind of looks like you," Lydia adds, her attention landing on Paxton. "Well, like you did last year when you actually hung out with cool people."
Once again in shock, Paxton glares at her with a perplexed expression. Her hands freeze in the air as if they were just as confused.
"Hey, we're cool," Stiles defends, nodding while he looks to Scott and then Lydia.
"Sure," she replies with a false cheerfulness.
As soon as Erica struts back out of the door, Paxton elbows Stiles once again. This time, she's pointing him in the direction of Erica's exit, silently telling him they should follow her. Without another thought, she pushes out of her seat and chases after Erica. More chairs scrape the floor behind her as Stiles and Scott do the same.
They catch up with Paxton as she slings open the doors that lead to the parking lot. At the top of the cement stairs, she watches as Erica finds an infamous black Camaro waiting for her. Her feet halt as Derek's window rolls down. The boy's run into her, accidentally shoving her before realizing she had come to a stop.
Just a few days ago, she and Scott had been in the same predicament. Except that time, it was Isaac in the back of a police car and Derek asking for their help.
Erica watches them, smiling at their shock as she opens the door of the vehicle. Once she's inside, Derek turns to them with the same arrogance in his smirk. "This could've been you, Paxton!" he calls out before letting out a small, hollow laugh.
His window rolls up before his car zooms off, leaving them in the dust of fumes. The two boy's jump in front of her, angered and confused by what Derek had meant. She sighs with the realization hitting her; Derek had deliberately said those words to put her into an uncomfortable position with the boys.
"What!" they say at the same time, glaring at her like she were a kid getting in trouble.
"What?" she raises her hands innocently.
Their expressions stay the same, though now, Scott's a little more angered and Stiles is completely confused. She turns around, heading toward the door.
Scott pulls her arm, forcing her to spin around, "what did he mean by that?" he questions, needing her to specify. After their recent argument, Scott finds it hard to trust her and the intentions she has.
"What're you two up to?" she counters, needing answers the same way they expected of her.
"We asked first," Stiles defends.
Her eyebrows crease, "no you didn't."
His head nods, his lips in a tight line, "okay, well.. yeah, I have nothing," he gives up, looking to Scott.
Scott sighs, "we got the keys from Boyd because we want to go ice skating," he breaks.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Well, I don't know, that was anti-climatic," she shrugs, meeting their judgmental stares. "What? I was expecting something crazy, ice skating sounds.. normal."
"It's technically trespassing," Stiles adds quietly, breaking into a side-conversation with her. "Well, if we get caught."
"We won't get caught," she replies with the same hushed tone, both of them pretending that Scott couldn't hear them. "I like that idea, the normalcy of it," her eyes flash as she smiles.
"Normalcy," he shares her same flashed expression, smiling more. The pair cared so much about a moment of ordinary life since they'd seen so little of it.
"Oh, my god," Scott whines, overpowering their whispers, "why does Derek want to turn you?"
She quickly realizes her answer is just as insignificant, "oh, right. He wasn't being serious."
Scott rolls his eyes while Stiles goes to speak, "when is Derek not serious?"
"I think Derek is so unserious all of the time that he just seems tough. But no, I don't think Derek would ever actually hurt me," she stares a hole into the ground, ignoring their reactions, "and I don't think he'd intentionally hurt any of us."
She finally looks up to them, Stiles then Scott. Both sharing the same disbelief.
"Don't get me wrong, I still think Derek is the number-one public enemy but I don't think he wants to hurt us. He's just misunderstood."
Scott scoffs, "yeah, he's so misunderstood," he mocks.
Annoyed, she open the door into the school, not caring if they followed her inside. Of course, they did and Stiles is the first at her side.
"So, you'll come with us tonight?"
She steals a look in his direction. "What?" she asks with smile.
"Come skating with us."
She fakes a thoughtful look, a finger tapping her chin. "I don't know, I have homework and stuff.."
"Paxton."
She stops their walk back to the cafeteria, turning to him, "okay," the smile never leaves her face.
|
Stiles leads the group to an exit door of the hockey rink that rests in the outskirts of the city. Scott, Stiles and Paxton are joined by two others; Lydia and Allison. As Stiles digs for the set of keys he borrowed from Boyd, the other's crowd behind him. Pushing against each other in a giggling mess as they attempt to hide in the shadow of the overhead light so any lingering people wouldn't witness their trespassing.
The lock clicks, forcing more loud laughter from them. "Go, go, go," someone calls out as they shovel through the door. The overwhelming, pure joy suppresses the amount of pain they had gone through in the last month. Even the more recent events, such as Lydia's bizarre behavior earlier that day.
They had a few hours of teenage recklessness, which is more than enough time to let them escape reality. After all, they deserve it. Though they've each shared their own moments of a normal life together, it had all been individually. They've never had enough stability to have a time of fun as a group.
It's all Paxton could've hoped for and she could only thank Stiles.
The only event that could compare would be the formal and none of them could forget how horribly that night ended.
Scott, Allison, and Lydia find their way to the bleachers in the dark while Paxton stays behind with Stiles while he finds the breaker for the lights. Once he finds it, she looks up to the dome ceiling, her mouth parted effortlessly as she watches the lights turn on. He turns around, catching her at the perfect moment. He could almost believe she were watching magic happen with the way her enchanted gaze on the lights brighten her face.
She glances to him, her chin still pointed up. The corners of her lips slowly pull into a smile as she finds comfort in his brown eyes. "It's perfect."
"Come on," he says, though he wishes the moment could last forever.
He leads her to the bleachers while their other friends are already one the ice. Stiles plops a bag holding skates beside everyone else's things before sitting down. She watches the three in the rink from behind the protective glass, realizing it's probably a bad time for her to admit she couldn't skate. Scott's already struggling to keep his balance, falling more than a few times. He had no clue how to skate on ice either.
"Hey," Stiles starts, his voice rasping a bit with cold air, "I got something for you," he digs into his bag while she turns around to face him.
She sits beside him, pulling her sleeves over her hands. He pulls out a pack of her favorite candy; Reese's Cups. Her face lights up, happily taking the wrapped chocolate from him, "thank you."
He delightfully watches as the loud wrapper bursts open with her fumbling of the candy. She laughs while miraculously catching chocolate before they fall out. She offers him one cup while she takes the other, he accepts and the two sit in silence as they eat the treat, watching their friends on the ice. Simultaneously laughing as Scott wobbles around on his skates.
"Hey, Stiles," she breaks the silence first.
"Yep," he says with a mouthful of chocolate.
Her head tilts as gaze locks on the redhead spinning effortlessly, "have you noticed anything odd about Lydia?"
"Other than running naked through the woods? No, why?"
She wonders if she should even tell him about the interaction she had with her. Anxiously overthinking that it could've been nothing.
"I don't know," she sighs as her overwhelming thoughts prepare to flood out. "It's just that earlier, when I went to the bathroom, I heard someone crying from the stall. At first, I thought it was Erica, you know? I thought maybe she was upset about Derek," she shakes her head, realizing she's going off track, "long story short, it was Lydia crying and I tried to help her but she stopped me. Her eyes.. seemed so distant. They wouldn't move from something in the room but there was nothing there."
"Maybe she was just having a bad day," he tries to reason but is only met with a glare.
"She walked down the hall like she was following someone. Stiles, she walked directly to the old trophy case in the lobby and guess which one she was looking at. Guess."
"Uh, I don't know, I'm out of guesses."
Her eyes bore into his, "you didn't even guess." She exhales, frustrated, "It was Peter Hale's trophy, something for basketball."
His lips form a perfect circle as he tries to imagine the scene, trying to understand what it could mean. Knowing Peter Hale had done more than enough damage to Paxton. "And, no one was around?"
"No one," she emphasizes. "Then she just disappeared, until lunch. She's barely talked to me, much less looked at me."
"You don't think Derek's made her apart of her pack, do you?" he ask like she would know any and everything related to Derek.
"No, I really don't know anything about what Derek's doing. I just know that he's turning innocent people into.."
They both look over to Scott as he skates around the rink, holding hands with Allison who's trying to teach him.
"Innocent people like Isaac?"
Her brows crease as her head snaps to him, "yeah, like Isaac," she stresses, knowing how weary he is of Isaac.
"Have you talked to him?" he asks quietly, still looking to their friends.
"Depends what you call talking."
Instantly, he looks to her with a slight panic.
"What?" she shares his panic, afraid she had something horrible."I talked to him when I went to Derek's but it was only for a few minutes before I left. We used to hangout for hours over the break, now.. I don't know," her head shakes, beginning to feel melancholy.
He nods along to her words, going quiet. She takes the silence as sign that the conversation had come to an end. She debates getting ready to attempt skating before she notices his eyes narrowing on the floor, she instantly recognizes it as his way of hesitating something. She laces up her skates, never letting him leave her gaze.
"Do you ever think about, uh, combinations?" he pauses, giving her a chance to see him for the first time without his usual quick-wit. A rare sight considering how fast his mind works. "Like, two people.. who nobody ever though would be together.. ever."
Her face heats up, her cheeks turning a distinct red. "Oh," she gasps, "no, uh, me and Isaac aren't-- we aren't-" her words stumble out.
She isn't sure why he would ask something like that but, she's also unaware of the million other things on his mind.
"No, no, no," he rambles out in an alarmed mess, "I didn't mean.. never mind, I don't really know what I'm saying."
She laughs slightly before standing up and heading for the gate of the rink nearby. When she doesn't hear his footsteps behind her, she spins around. With a wide smile, she bends over and reaches out for his hand, pulling him from the cold bleachers. He rolls his eyes, sharing her same goofy smile, not fighting against her gentle tug.
She swings the gate open, wanting him to go first since she had no clue how to skate. He steps onto the ice, balancing on the blade with ease as he skates around. She takes a deep breathe before stepping onto the ice. Immediately, she slips. Luckily it's not enough to knock her down.
He skids to a halt beside her, nearly toppling her over. "You don't know how to skate? Paxton, the girl that can do anything, doesn't know how to skate," he teases her before reaching his hands out for her to hold, "here."
She hesitates, not sure if she could stay balanced enough to move the small distance between them. She holds onto the wall beside her, reaching her other hand for him. His warm hand catches her as she pushes off the wall. She noticed early on how warm he is, anytime she's around him it's as if he comforts her like a blanket.
He pulls her with him, facing her as he skates backwards. Her wobbling legs follow his lead with a wavering confidence. He tries to keep her up as best as he can but the further they drift from the safety of the wall, the more she becomes unbalanced.
Allison cheers her on as she and Scott leaves the rink to find somewhere isolated. Her clapping hands and encouraging words boost Paxton's ego for only a split-second until it backfires.
Her leg slips from under her, causing her to fall against the hard ice. With reflex, she grabs Stiles' hand tight before falling, forcing him down with her. Luckily, he was able to stop himself before crashing into her, holding himself up with his hands placed beside her head.
They lie on the cold floor, her head beginning to ache from hitting it. But she doesn't care about the pain, all she can do is join Stiles' laughter. The time freezes around them in their own little world as their laugh becomes uncontrollable. His body hovers over her, his head leaned down just above her nose.
As their chaotic laughter fades, he picks his head up as she opens her eyes to the small space between them. Her gaze moves up to his eyes sparkling with the white ice and bright lights around them. She traces his cheek to a wrinkle where his deepest dimple stains his cheek. His hair, it had grown more since the beginning of the semester. His fixated eyes watch her as she studies his feature, in complete and total awe.
Realizing she had been staring for too long, she scoots out from under him while he sits up on his knees. "Well, I'm never doing this again," she breaks the uncomfortable silence, reaching for her skates.
He stifles a laugh that lingers with the memory of their fall. As she unties one skate, he helps with the other. She ignores him, feeling as if it were a big deal that he'd help but not wanting to make a scene of it. She puts her skate beside them, looking to him as he slips the other off.
Her skin reveals with the loss of the shoe. "Nice scar," he carefully brings her hand to her leg, his finger nervously hovering above the scar on her calf.
She huffs with a smile, "yeah, crazy story behind it. You see, me and two of my friends were trapped in the school and this giant demon dog chased us around for a while."
"You have friends?" he teases, smirking with a humoring glory.
"You have friends," she mocks.
All of the sudden, a ear-aching shriek snaps their attention to the middle of the rink. The floor around them vibrating as Lydia falls to the ice, screaming her head off. Her nails scrape the ice rapidly, trying to uncover something underneath the chunk of hard ice.
Paxton sprints to her in nothing but socks while Stiles skates, the two attempt to pull Lydia's stiff body away from the claw marks shaved into the ice. Paxton holds the redhead against her chest, comforting her hair away from her crying face. She looks up to Stiles as he searches the ice for anything that could be stuck underneath. He shakes his head, not seeing anything underneath.
As Scott and Allison make their way to the gate of the rink, Stiles and Paxton look to him for answers. But they all share the same shock, unsure of how to help the poor girl as her shriek continues to deafen them.
She passes out before her screams could stop, collapsing in Paxton's arm from the exhaustion. They look to each other, needing someone to end the silence for a moment of consolation. But no one dares to speak.
Scott helps carry her to Allison's car, the girl offering to take her to the hospital.
"Uh," Allison swallows, looking back to her car before the group, "I'll see you guys tomorrow." She looks to Scott, wishing they had more time together. Without another word, Allison opens her door, hesitantly hopping inside.
"Wait!" Paxton calls out, much to everyone's surprise. Allison's hand hovers over her handle, looking to the girl confusedly. "Uh, I'll come with you."
Allison nods, "okay," she attempts to smile.
Paxton doesn't look to Stiles or Scott, it would be too hard with the knowledge of what she's determined to do next. The guilt would consume her faster than she could handle.
|
Asking Allison to drop her off in an old alleyway wasn't the hard part of her decision. No, it's the reality of her poor choice greeting her unkindly in the shape of the old building that Derek and his pack reside in. Allison felt uneasy in the location, almost fighting Paxton as she hopped out of the car. She just responded with a lie of how the girl wouldn't have to worry.
She didn't have to worry because Paxton's already worrying for both of them combined.
She walks down the stairs into the dark, a few voices making Derek and Erica's presence known. She heads for the cart in the middle of the room, knowing it's where everyone would be. She swallows her pride and fear before stepping into the light of the tight space.
She leans against the door frame, her arm's crossed, as she watches the wolves interact in the seats a few rows from her. "I need to talk to you," she boldly states causing their whispers to stop.
Derek looks to her, smirking arrogantly already. Isaac notices her, his dull face instantly refreshes at the sight of her. He's quick to stand, making his way to her to pull her into a hug. She feels the urge to squirm out of his hold until she eases into it.
"Finally," he sighs, "I missed you."
He guides her further into the cart with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. Erica and Derek sit opposite each other in the dusty seats that line the walls. Erica huffs at the her, a lip pulling with disgust. She fights the urge to growl.
"Paxton," Derek greets her in his own way; never really saying 'hi' or making small talk.
"Derek," her lips form a tight line.
Erica rolls her eyes as she stands up, "let's leave the love birds alone," she says to Derek as she attempts to pull him up from his seat.
But he doesn't budge, he just glares his cold eyes at Paxton. The hairs on her neck stands up on their own from the frightening look. His attention lands on Isaac, narrowing his eyes on the boy.
"Seriously? What's everyone's obsession with this girl," she scoffs before exiting the cart on her own.
"Ignore her, she can't handle the attention being off of her for longer than a minute," Isaac assures Paxton with a whisper, leaning his head close to her's.
She doesn't even acknowledge him, she's too busy watching Derek. Examining him. Wondering why he has this look as if he knows something she doesn't.
"I need to talk to you," she tells the suddenly frightening man. In a quick move, he stands up and leaves the cart without saying a word. She sighs, looking up to the rusted ceiling, "what the hell is everyone's issue."
Isaac takes a seat on the bench that Derek had left behind. He fiddles his fingers as his mind argues against him, "I'm not supposed to tell you."
Her eyes rolls, "well what's the fun in that?" When he stays silent, she realizes there's more happening that she's not aware of. "Isaac," she says with warning.
His piercing blue eyes look up to her through his brows. "Derek's recruiting someone else.. tonight."
"What?" her eyes widen, her hands unclasping and slapping against her thighs.
She turns towards the door but she couldn't get far with Isaac's hand gripping her wrist. "I can't let you go after him."
She twists her hand out of his hold, glaring at his sudden strength that marks her skin. "And, I can't let him continue to turn people into.." she hints at 'werewolf' but the first word to shamefully come to her mind is 'monster'.
"Look, I just don't want you to get hurt," he shrugs, "besides, what's the harm?" his face softens, finding her attitude towards the supernatural to be humorous.
"What's the harm? Isaac, can you seriously look at me and tell me that what he's doing is good? You think he's doing this for you?" her tone comes out harsher than intended, but it's for the best. Isaac needs to see the seriousness.
"I do, I do thinks he's doing this for me! He's all I have now, Paxton," he stands from his seat, their bodies only a few inches apart as they continue the argument.
"You have me!" she shouts, her brows creasing from the anger rising, "and if you would leave this place, you can have others to count on, too."
He goes quiet, retracing her words. His fluctuated breathing forces his chest to fill the space between them. Her hardened brows raise with hope that he might actually see her side of things, wanting so badly to free him from this place.
The tension in the room grows with every passing second. For a moment, their hands graze. The touch causes the pair to look to each other's gaze. Their faces inches apart, she could feel each breath that leaves him as she looks to his mouth that slowly parts.
"I can't," he says before taking a step back, "this is all I have, I can't just leave."
Her eyes close, trying to imagine how differently it all could've went. "Isaac, please-- I just," a sigh escapes her burning throat, "I don't want you to get hurt."
"I don't want you to get hurt, either," he begs. "But, I can't let you stop him."
She fights a scream of frustration. She takes a seat on the cold bench, pulling her phone out as she does.
Derek after some1 else
IDK where
Hurry
she sends the text to Scott with a simple press of a button, hoping he understands. She sighs, accepting her defeat now with Isaac. "Isaac, you have no idea what this life is capable of," she says with honesty, her voice soft and delicate. "Did Derek ever tell you how we met?"
"No, he doesn't say much at all most of the time," he sits beside her, calming down from the argument.
"The first time I saw him was in the parking lot of school. He had been shot with a bullet laced with wolvesbane. He almost died," she laughs hollowly, reminiscing on the distant memory that was only a handful of weeks ago.
"What's wolvesbane?"
She nods, her assumptions that Derek isn't preparing his pack enough coming true. "It's a herb, it's deadly for you," she informs the naive boy as his lips form an 'oh'.
"There's people in this world-- hell, there's people in this city-- that will try to hurt you for what you are. Are you prepared for that? I wasn't," her head shakes, blinking back the vivid picture of Peter Hale. "The Argent's, that's who you have to look out for."
"Wait, like Allison? Is she a werewolf, too?"
"No, the opposite actually. Her family hunts werewolves and they're good at it, too. They'll kill you before you can even blink, accuse you of things you didn't do."
"Where does Derek come into this?" he questions, his only thoughts on his alpha.
"That grave you dug, it was Allison's aunt Kate. Derek's uncle killed her," her hands clasp together, trying to ease their trembling. "The night of the winter formal, his uncle attacked Lydia Martin before kidnapping Stiles and manipulating him into finding Scott. He just didn't know that Scott and I were at the Hale House with Derek. Kate had tortured him, probably for a week before we found him. When we helped Derek, Kate had been waiting for us outside the house."
A breath that had been building up escapes her, the night finding her once again. "Long story short; a bunch of stuff happened, people died, and now you've been dragged into this mess," she wraps up her story hastily, no longer wanting to say the events out loud.
"People died? What, and you saw it all happened," he grows concerned. His body shifts towards her but she finds it hard to look anywhere other than the floor.
"Look Isaac, I don't think Derek's a bad person. Really, I actually care about him for some reason. But I do know what he's doing is wrong," she pauses, her eyes closing as she pulls in her bottom lip. "I just don't want the same things that happened that night to repeat."
She finally meets his expression, his mouth hung slightly as he thinks of how to react. He stands up without a word, holding a hand out to help her up.
She curiously takes his offer to stand. "I can't leave Derek but I'll take you to where he's going."
She lacks the energy to keep reiterating why it's important for him to leave this place. It's no use, she couldn't fight the bond he has with Derek. He turned them so they had no choice but to stay with him.
She doesn't argue as Isaac drags her up the stairs of the building, Derek's car keys in hand. They rush to the black Camaro, Isaac quickly explaining how the alpha left his car behind so no one would be alarmed if they saw it where they were headed.
Isaac speeds down the street, the two sitting in anxious silence. Paxton keeps telling herself, it's too late, I'm too late. Always quick to blame herself.
The car slides into a parking spot outside of the ice rink she had been at just an hour ago. The lights are off but a van belonging to the building is parked by the exit door that had used to trespass.
Her hand in Isaac's, he runs them to the unlocked door of the rink. Swinging it open, she looks around the dome ceiling in awe. It hadn't been long ago when she assumed the night would be a good one, one full of normalcy. It's far from that now.
She looks to the bleachers first; where Stiles and her had enjoyed a sweet treat. Now she's full of bitter. She quickly glances to the ice; where Lydia had screamed and scratched. Her heart pounds at the sight.
"That really hurts, Scott," she overhears Derek say as she and Isaac slide across the frozen floor.
Scott stands in front of Derek, his lip pulled with a slight growl. An ice resurfacer parks behind the teen. Once Paxton steps closer, she spots the boy who works there, sitting atop the machinery. Vernon Boyd, the boy who had hesitantly given Stiles the keys to the building at lunch. He couldn't be any older than the teens, perhaps a year older like her brother.
"If you're going to review me, at least take a consensus," Derek continues, gesturing to Erica beside him. "Erica, how's life been for you since we met?"
Against her will, Paxton stands on Derek's side with Isaac. He keeps her shielded from the fight that brews, an arm holding her against his back. The hand she had held to the door hasn't left her hold. Scott notices her, a pained expression across his face.
Erica hums, "in one word? Transformative," she growls. The noise echoes throughout the large, empty interior.
"Isaac?" Derek questions the boy guarding Paxton.
She tugs on his shoulder, begging him not to answer. "Well, I'm a little bummed out about being a fugitive but other than that, I'm great," he answers unapologetically.
She sighs with disappointment, ripping her hand from his. She begins to spiral from the entangled mess that she's put herself in. Hating that she wants to fight for both sides. Hating that Scott is right to be against Derek because she couldn't choose him without losing Isaac.
She pushes away from Isaac, stand far from the group, deciding that she wouldn't choose. She picks being a bystander instead of losing people she cares about.
"Okay, hold on, this isn't exactly a fair fight," Scott points out.
His voice is the comfort she craved in the decision making. She takes the break of silence to walk to Scott's side. "I agree with Scott, it's not fair. Not when Boyd has no idea what he's getting himself into if he picks this life," she glares at Isaac, anger boiling.
"Paxton, stay out of this," Derek warns.
"Or what?" he head tilts, condescendingly.
"Paxton."
Erica takes a step towards her which causes both Derek and Isaac to hold a guarding arm out in front of her. "Oh, come on," she cries, "I've been dying to get a chance at her!"
Scott leans into Paxton, "you should get out of here. I don't want you to get hurt," he whispers.
"Is that all anyone knows how to say?" she groans.
Derek releases Erica, leaving Isaac to hold her back. She breaks free with ease, marching up to Paxton with her fresh fangs staring her down.
Scott pushes Paxton back as he lets out a growl, claws magically growing from his nail beds. She slides across the ice with the realization that she should just listen and hide. Not that there's much places around to seek shelter. She runs to the gate of the rink, the same one she and Stiles had used hours prior.
She searches for anything sharp or hard that she could throw and stab but there's nothing. Leans against the wall under the protective glass, peaking over at the growls leaving the rink. The sound of skin slashing fills her with nausea.
Isaac and Erica team up against Scott, throwing him against the machine that Boyd is frozen to. After a few punches from Isaac, Scott grabs Isaac by the collar of his shirt. He slams the boy against the hard ice, beating his head against it. Erica throws herself on top of Scott, her weight throwing him off balanced. He overpowers her, straightening out his back as he growls. She slips, falling to the floor.
Isaac jumps from the ice, ready for another fight. He runs to Scott, already swinging. The two go back and forth until Scott leaves Isaac breathless. Exhausted, Isaac and Erica back away from him.
"Don't you get it? He's not doing this for you! He's just adding to his own power, okay? It's all about him, he makes you feel like he's giving you some kind of gift when all he's done is turn you into a bunch of guard dogs!" Scott shouts at the two, his youthful voice cracking.
Derek, who didn't move an inch during his beta's fight, stands tall in the middle of the rink with his arms crossed. "It's true, it is about power," he says smugly.
Instantly, Paxton's stomach knots. She wastes no time rushing onto the ice, afraid of what Derek is to do next. She slides on her knees beside Isaac, lifting his head onto her lap. She pushes his curled hair out of his face. His breathing shallows but his abilities help him recover quickly.
Derek strides to Scott, his head twisting as he rips out a deep growl. His face transforms in the blink of an eye. His knuckles swing back before crashing against Scott's face. Taking the boy by surprise as he claws into his stomach using his other hand. When the claws tear his shirt, leaving blood to spill onto the material, Derek throws Scott against the ice.
Scott stands up despite his weakness, he swings for Derek. The alpha quickly recovers, now more furious. He repeatedly punches the teen before lifting him into the air and slamming him into the ice for the last time. The floor breaks from the weight, Scott lies breathlessly.
Paxton screws her tearful eyes shut as Scott spits up blood. Derek, paused in his attack, gives her enough time to sprint to Scott's side. She collapses onto the broken ice beside his head.
Derek finds his betas, readying to leave. The fight's over, he proved to Scott and the beta's that he's the strongest wolf in the room.
"You don't wanna be like them," Paxton shakes her tear-stricken face as she looks up to Boyd on the machine.
He hops down, taking a deep breath as he walks to Scott and Paxton. "You're right, I wanna be like him," he looks to Scott as he lift up his shirt.
Bloodied teeth marks tear into his slowly healing skin, just above his hip. The tears slip uncontrollably as she gasps for air. She takes one more look to Derek and his pack as Boyd heads for them.
Scott finds her hand, squeezing it gently for his own comfort as he coughs up more blood. She places her head on his chest, wet eyes soaking into his shirt. His arms wrap around her back, hugging her. One they both needed.
"I-I'm so, so s-sorry, S-Scott," she hiccups which only makes his hold on her tighten.
He tries to hush her, "it's okay, it's okay."
"It's not okay!" she breaks from his hold. "This is my fault! I-It's all my fault and now they're gonna get hurt, too!"
She pushes herself off of the floor, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. She reaches her dry hand out for him to pull himself up with. She quickly laughs at herself, feeling ridiculous to be such an emotional mess. She feels as though she doesn't deserve to cry, it's all her fault after all.
Scott joins her laughter, not able to fight the contagiousness.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to.." she sniffles.
"You don't have to apologize," he smiles despite the loss they were confronted with.
"You're— you're bleeding," she mutters, her eyes widening on his torn stomach.
He pulls his shirt up, examining the wound. They both look at how he's not healing as fast as he normally would.
"We need to get out of here," he drops his shirt with a newfound seriousness.
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someone comment i need to see some funny commentary