you think you've lost me?

[ 2.09 ]

The Worthington Estate quickly became the second hideout for Derek and his pack. With the alpha refusing to leave Willow alone, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd had to come to him when they needed to talk.

Funny how Warren had met Derek's betas but not the man himself. Willow introduced the three as some new friends, and though Warren wasn't home much, he liked them for the most part. And of course, he had heard mentions of Isaac and Erica before, so they weren't strangers.

Boyd was Warren's favorite though. They first bonded over Boyd being in JROTC, as Warren served in the military for a few years. But then they also bonded over a love of completely destroying Willow in Mario Kart and Monopoly — they were the only two that her pouty eyes couldn't sway. Willow wasn't thrilled about how they constantly beat her at games and then rubbed it in like children.

Warren didn't, however, know that Derek had been practically living in his home for the last few days. Derek was using his shower, eating his food, and sleeping in his daughter's bed.

Derek had meant it when he promised Willow to not leave her alone. Though they didn't talk about what Matt had done often, as Willow got upset each time, it was clear that she was still scared. And no one made her feel safer than Derek, even after all they'd been through.

If Derek left the house, Willow went with him. Or if he needed to take care of something that wasn't safe for her, Scott and Stiles came to stay with her. The best thing about being as loved as Willow was that she never had a shortage of people who wanted to protect her.

And in their surplus of time together, they had gotten closer once more — it was inevitable. Though nothing romantic came from it, it was the first glimpse at the old Derek that Willow had seen in weeks. And hell must have frozen over, because he also apologized for everything from biting everyone without telling Willow to hurting Scott to trying to kill Lydia even though they had never seen her turn into the kanima. And he certainly meant it, they all knew, because Derek Hale never apologized.

Willow just hoped that the sense that had been knocked into him would stick around this time.

"Tomorrow night's the full moon," Willow noted. She was laying on her bed and flipping through a magazine as Derek sat at her desk, eating the rest of the pizza they had for dinner. "Are they all going to be alright?"

"I've got enough chains to keep them inside," Derek assured her. "You're sticking with Scott at the party tomorrow and then staying at Lydia's. If that changes, you call me. And if he dares to show up, you call me. Understood?"

So, Derek was a little on edge about his inability to watch her during the full moon. But Willow assured him that she'd survive one night without him. She didn't want him distracted when he was supposed to be focused on his betas.

"Or call the police," he added, giving her a pointed look.

It had only been a handful of days since the rave, and Willow had yet to go to the police about Matt. With the kanima on the loose, they being very close to finding out who was controlling it, Allison's mother being bitten and the inevitable fallout of that, and Stiles' father being put on leave as the sheriff, Willow thought it was best to wait. It was Spring Break, and she wouldn't have to see Matt every day at school.

Once the full moon and Lydia's party were behind them, Willow agreed to let Allison take her to the station to tell them what she saw. Hopefully, it'd be enough probable cause to search the rest of Matt's cameras and his computer.

"You hate the police," Willow told Derek, a small smile on her lips. "You literally never want them involved in anything."

"Well, you won't let me rip his throat out, so him going to jail is the next best thing," he said, crossing his arms.

Willow sighed and rolled on her back to look at the ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars were covering it. On nights she couldn't sleep well, Derek would take her hand in his, point it at the stars, and count them with her — there were eighty-seven, and she was usually asleep with her head on his chest before they got to the last one.

"Can we... not talk about him again? Please?" she asked quietly.

"Of course. What time do you need to be at Lydia's?" he asked, propping his feet on the desk as he leaned back in the chair. If Willow hadn't been looking at the ceiling, she'd have seen and fussed at him until he stopped.

"Way too early," she said, laughing. "But it's tradition, and she'll do the same for my birthday. We spend the whole day decorating the house before picking out all our outfit changes. We'll go to Allison's house to bring her a dress too."

"You're gonna have wardrobe changes?" he asked, chuckling.

"Have you met Lydia?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow as she looked at him. "Feet!"

Derek laughed heartily as she flung a stuffed strawberry pillow at him before removing his feet from the furniture.

"You'll probably be free from babysitting duty by nine-thirty tomorrow morning," she told him.

"It's not babysitting," Derek said with a frown. He got up and moved to the bed, leaning over Willow's face so that she could see how serious he was. "Watching over you is the most important thing — more important than Jackson, than the pack. Everything."

"I shouldn't be more important than your pack," she told him softly.

"Well, you are. And you always will be," he told her, sounding so sure — like it was just a fact of the universe. "I'm never going to let power or my ego or some stupid vendetta distract me from what matters again. Even if I have ruined everything — even if I have lost you."

"You think you've lost me?" Willow couldn't stop from asking, her voice barely above a whisper.

Derek brushed his thumb across her cheek. "Haven't I?"

Willow's eyes flicked to his lips that were suddenly so close. So soft and inviting. She felt her head come up off the bed as she leaned up, wanting to kiss him more than she wanted anything in the world.

"Hey, Wills!" Warren called, interrupting any moment that might of happened. "Scrib is trying to get in your room."

"Of course, he is," Derek muttered, bitter as ever about the cat.

Willow's cheeks were red as she rolled off the bed and she didn't glance back at Derek as she walked to her door. As soon as it was cracked, the black cat let himself in, brushing up against Willow's legs as he passed.

With how frequently Derek had been around, Scribbles had grown somewhat used to the werewolf. He still didn't like Derek — not one bit. But the cat at least stopped hissing every time they were in the same room. The pair settled for glaring at each other.

Warren was at Willow's door too, dressed in fairly nice clothes. Willow looked at him expectantly, silently asking what he wanted so late. Really, they both needed to get to bed. But instead, Warren held out his arms to show off the outfit.

"How do I look? You won't be home tomorrow to approve it, so I threw it on tonight," he said.

Willow glanced at his clothes, which were a blend of business casual. He wore a dark green dress shirt that complemented his skin tone well, which was tucked into a nice pair of jeans. He was also wearing a pair of boots and had a blazer thrown over his arm.

"You look really handsome. What's the occasion, exactly? No offense, but you're not invited to Lydia's party," she said, chuckling. He'd be the only adult there if he was.

"Now, don't pee your Hello Kitty pajamas," he said in a joking tone as he looked at her fuzzy shorts. "I thought I'd keep Natalie company since she's staying away from the house for the party. We're going to dinner and a movie."

"Like a date?" Willow asked, her grin resembling that of the Cheshire Cat. She was practically shaking with excitement.

"Yes," he said with an amused smile. "Like a date."

"Oh my god!" she squealed, throwing her arms around her father who laughed. "Finally! I give it a year before Lydia's my sister."

"Calm down. It's one date," Warren said, quite amused by her reaction. "Also, she's about to be seventeen, and you'll be eighteen in a few months. It's not like you're little girls anymore."

"If we wanna share a room and take trips to Build-A-Bear Workshop to make matching sister bears, you can't stop us," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "Tomorrow's gonna be the best day ever. I can feel it in my bones."

"I'm sure it will be," he said, patting her shoulder. "Now, get to bed. It's late. But my present to Lydia is on the table by the door. Bring it by for me when you head over in the morning."

"Of course. Goodnight, future Mr. Martin."

Warren snorted and shook his head. "I'm all for men taking the last name, but the alliteration of Warren and Willow Worthington is too fantastic to change. Your husband or wife will just need to take your last name or keep their own."

"We should've given Scribbles a name that starts with W," she muttered.

"Scribbles Worthington is a great name," he assured her. "Get some rest. Thanks for the outfit approval."

Willow was on cloud nine as she went back to her room. Derek had an amused smile on his face, clearly having overheard the conversation about dating Lydia's mother. She fell back on the bed and grinned at him.

"I hope I'm there when Ms. Martin tells Lydia. You'll probably hear her scream of excitement all the way at the train station," she told him.

"I'm glad you're happy," Derek said, leaning against the headboard.

Willow — none of them, really — didn't have much to be happy about as of late. She was being stalked. One best friend was going crazy while the other was a lizard that killed people. She had gotten detention — yes, she was still complaining about that. So, she needed some good news and a fun birthday party to cheer her up.

"Me too," she said, resting her head on a pillow. Then she looked at him pleadingly. "Will you get up to turn the light off?"

Derek scoffed. "You were the last one up. That's the rule we agreed on."

"Please?" she whined while wiggling under the comforter. "I'm already under the covers."

"You just got under the covers as you were saying that!"

"Please?" she asked again in a softer tone.

Derek took in her pouty expression and gave in, sighing as he got off the bed and walked to the light. He was more amused than annoyed, knowing he was going to get the light as soon as she asked.

He whispered so quietly that her human ears didn't pick it and his fake annoyance up. "You're lucky I love you."

"Hmm?" Willow asked, thinking she heard him say something in the dark.

Derek made his way back over, a soft smile on his face. "Keep you and your freezing cold toes on your side of the bed."

☽︎

Practically every morning began with Willow waking up in Derek's arms. She was typically curled up against his chest, her head resting against his neck while her hands clutched his shirt and his were wrapped safely around her. It didn't matter what position they fell asleep in — they always ended up in each other's arms.

The morning of Lydia's party, Willow was the first to wake, as usual. Though her head wasn't shoved against Derek's chest this time. In fact, when she took note of their different position, she couldn't help but blush, thankful that Derek was asleep to miss it.

Derek's face was against the back of her neck as he held her tightly. Her back was pressed firmly against his chest, and the placement of his hands had her staring at her soft yellow walls with wide eyes.

One was wrapped under her and around her waist, his hand pressed flat to her stomach below her belly button. Even with his fingers incredibly close to the waistband of her shorts, that wasn't the hand that had her so flustered. The other had made its way under the loose t-shirt that she slept in. Warmth radiated from his fingertip that brushed her exposed skin — they'd brush something else if she took a deep enough breath. Something that wasn't covered by a bra.

God, how mortifying was it that the first time Derek touched her under her clothes was in his sleep? Lydia would never stop making jokes if she found out.

Holding her breath, Willow wiggled in Derek's tight hold until his hand fell a bit lower, joining the other. She was thankful, not wanting things to be awkward when she woke him up.

Her movements had stirred him, but not enough to wake him. Derek's grip on her tightened as he pulled her even closer. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his lips and scruff grazing her skin in a way that she had missed.

Before the torturous morning could continue, Willow called his name. "Derek," she said softly, knowing his sensitive ears would hear.

Derek groaned and scrunched his eyes together, not wanting to wake up yet. It really wasn't fair how adorable the big bad alpha was in the morning, sleepy with messy hair and the raspiness still in his voice.

"Not yet," he grumbled, refusing to let her go. He was extra tired, already feeling some of the effects of the full moon even though it was hours away.

"I have to - to get ready," she said, needing him to let go. The parts of her body still touched by his hands felt like they were on fire. "Derek, if I can't lift a bag of mountain ash then I definitely can't get out of your arms."

"Don't want you out of my arms," he mumbled sleepily. But after a moment, Derek did give in, as he did every morning, and loosened his hold.

Willow moved quickly, and if he wasn't so sleepy, Derek might have been confused by her urgency. But his head was shoved back into the pillow before she even reached her connected bathroom, rushing straight there to just get out of the same room.

She really needed to calm down, Willow told herself in the shower. Especially when Derek could hear her heartbeat, which had no doubt been ready to beat out of her chest after waking up. Luckily, he never did seem to pay the most attention when he was waking up.

Willow didn't take too long, having washed her hair the night before. She did have to shave her legs though, knowing that Lydia likely had a rack full of short dresses for her to try on for the night. After pulling on lotion and letting her hair out of the clip it was kept up in, Willow looked around the bathroom and realized a very large mistake that she'd made.

It was a situation she had seen in plenty of movies and books, one she could have easily avoided. Especially when he'd already been staying with her for several days now. But she had been flustered and in a rush to get away from him.

Well, she'd certainly be flustered now because Willow forgot to bring her clothes into the bathroom.

Derek, having finally woken up, stood by Willow's window — the curtains closed — as he stretched his arms over his head. He pulled out some clothes from his bag and sat them on her bed, planning to shower once Willow was finished.

"I'll drive you to Lydia's house before heading back to the station," Derek said when he heard the bathroom door open. "Isaac is very excited about the cookies your dad made that I'm bringing—"

Derek's words got caught in his throat when he turned and spotted what Willow was wearing — or rather, not wearing. She had a short, fluffy pink towel wrapped around her and pink cheeks to match. His eyes were drawn to the revealed skin, watching a drop of water she missed roll down her neck and collarbone, disappearing as it hit — Derek quickly looked back up at her eyes and cleared his throat.

"I, um, forgot to grab clothes," she muttered, looking at the ground. Willow scurried over to her dresser. "You can have the - the bathroom in a second."

Willow pulled on the top dresser with one hand while keeping the towel up with the other. She had to refrain from actively cursing when the drawer got stuck. Because of course, now was the time for the old wooden dresser she'd had since she was a baby to stop working. Willow kept trying to get it open, only growing more nervous the longer it went on because she could feel Derek's burning gaze.

Then he was moving, walking up right behind her. Willow could feel his warm breath on the back of her neck and she had to hold her own as she looked up at him. One muscular arm reached past and covered her hand on the handle. With one strong tug, he yanked the drawer open.

It was such a forceful pull that a few things tumbled out and onto the floor. Willow's cheeks were on fire and she couldn't look away from him and at the underwear on the floor.

Slowly, never taking his eyes off of hers, Derek knelt down and grabbed a piece of fabric. As he stood up again, he placed the pair of white lace underwear in the hand that wasn't holding the towel.

"Wear those," Derek said, his voice suddenly much deeper.

Lips parted, chest heaving, water dripping down her neck, darkened green eyes burning her where she stood. Willow was sure she was about to die from how fast her heart was beating.

She swallowed thickly before tearing her eyes from Derek, looking at her feet once more. Mustering as much courage as she could, she reached in the drawer to pull out the matching bra — thank you, Lydia — before turning and stopping by her closet to grab a sweater and skirt to throw on, knowing it'd soon be replaced by another outfit at the Martin house.

Once safely inside the bathroom and away from Derek's burning gaze, Willow leaned against the closed door and let out a deep, shaky breath. Maybe Derek staying at the house would cause more problems than she initially thought.

Not necessarily bad problems though.

☽︎

"In just your towel?"

"Yes."

"He picked them out?"

"He did."

"You're wearing them now?"

"I am."

"Bitch, let me see!"

Thrilled didn't even begin to describe Lydia's reaction to the events that transpired in Willow's room that morning. What followed was a tense and silent car ride to Lydia's house. Willow spent most of it fiddling with her skirt nervously, and Derek just couldn't stop looking at her. She felt like each time he looked at her, he was picturing the white lace hidden away — and he was.

"This is the best birthday ever," Lydia said, falling onto her bed dramatically. "Our parents are going on a date, I found a fantastic punch recipe for the party, and I give it forty-eight hours before you lose your virginity — I'd say tonight if he weren't busy with the full moon."

Willow rolled her eyes and joined Lydia on the bed. "We aren't — Lydia, we're not going to sleep together. We aren't even together together."

"But you want to be again," she said, a knowing look in her eyes. "I say if he really has turned a new leaf, go for it."

"I - I don't know," she said, looking at her recently painted nails. "I mean, I do know. I want to be with him again, and I think he knows I'm ready but I just haven't found the right time to tell him."

Lydia cut her eyes to her and scoffed. "And the handful of days you've spent locked up in your bedroom with him haven't been the right time?"

"For your information, Scrib is also in the room," she said, throwing a pillow at Lydia.

"Scrib is a mood killer," she said, nodding. The cat had kept her and Jackson from hooking up in the Worthington Estate at least three times.

"See. No good time."

"So, like, do you think the full moon makes werewolves more sexually frustrated?" Lydia asked, tilting her head curiously.

Willow's cheeks heated up as she shook her head. "I don't - I don't know, Lydia. Why don't you ask Scott?"

"Or you could test the waters with Derek and let me know."

"Why are you so dead set on me and Derek, well, with us—"

"Fucking?" she filled in for her.

"You really have no filter when it comes to boy talk," Willow muttered.

"Well, if you're not going to get with him right away, then the polite thing to do would be to at least send him a picture of the items he picked out," Lydia said, an innocent look on her face.

Willow quickly grew flustered by the sheer notion of what Lydia was suggesting. "I am not sending him a nude, Lydia!"

"Um, it's not a nude if you're wearing clothes," she stated matter-of-factly. "I'm sure he'd love it — Jackson certainly did when I sent them."

"N - no way," Willow said, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter if maybe I do want him to see it — stop squealing Lydia — I can't just drop that in his inbox. It's way too forward, especially since we aren't together."

Lydia suddenly smirked, an idea forming. "What if we got it to him in a more subtle way?"

"There's a subtle way to send an underwear picture?" she asked doubtfully, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you trust me?" she questioned.

After a moment, Willow nodded. "Most days, yes."

"And do you trust Erica?"

"What does Erica have to do with this?" Willow asked, growing confused. Somewhat surprisingly, Lydia and Erica started to get along after the whole almost-killing-Lydia incident. They bonded mostly over clothes and makeup, but that was enough to bring them together.

"Just wait," Lydia said with another smirk.

☽︎

In the abandoned train station, Derek pulled out a giant crate, opening it to reveal several types of chains and restraints. Isaac was next to him and bent over to examine the swirling symbol burned into the wood on the inside of the lid.

"What is that?" he questioned.

"It's a triskele," Boyd identified, surprising his pack mates. "Spirals mean different things - Past, present, future. Mother, father, child."

"You know what it means to me?" Derek asked, looking over to him.

"Alpha, beta, omega?" he guessed.

Derek was impressed by Boyd's knowledge. "That's right. It's a spiral. Reminds us that we can all rise to one or fall to another. Betas can become alphas, but alphas can also fall to betas or even omegas."

Erica's phone buzzed with a text and after checking it, she saw it was from Lydia.

Need approval from the resident leather jacket she-wolf. Can I send pics for your input on Willow's outfit?

Wills in a leather jacket? Sounds hot. Sign me up

She grinned at her own reply before focusing back on Derek.

"Like Scott?" Isaac asked.

"Scott's with us," Derek told him.

"Really?" Isaac asked, looking around. "Then where is he now?"

"He's looking for Jackson and watching Willow while I watch you guys," he explained. "Don't worry, he's not gonna have it easy tonight either. None of us will. There's a price you pay for this kind of power. You get the ability to heal, but tonight you're gonna want to kill anything you can find."

"Good thing I had my period last week, then," Erica joked. She rolled her eyes when none of the boys laughed. "Willow would have at least giggled"

Derek bit back a smile before holding up a bulky headband with spikes sticking out of it. It resembled some type of torture device. "Well, this one's for you," he said, and Erica's face fell.

At least the first outfit photo from Lydia came to distract her. The outfit wasn't actually on Willow and instead was hanging on the back of Lydia's open closet door. There was a leather jacket paired with a black skirt and cropped white tank top.

It was cute but didn't scream 'Willow', so she waited for the next one to come in before replying. It took a moment, likely because Lydia was pulling the next items from her closet.

Whatever Derek had been saying was tuned out as the next photo came. There was a silky white minidress hanging with the jacket on the door, but that's not what Erica was looking at. She was focused on Willow, who happened to be walking past in the background. Lydia must not have noticed her when snapping the picture.

"Derek," Erica said, not even looking at him as she shamelessly zoomed in on the small portion of the photo. "Out of respect, I'm giving you exactly four days to win Willow back — that's one more than Jesus took. Then I'm stealing her."

Isaac and Boyd snickered as Derek looked at Erica questioningly. "I just explained about the agonizing process of screwing two-inch bolts in your head, but you're thinking about stealing Willow?"

"I mean, I know I've seen her changing in the locker room for gym, but damn," Erica muttered, running her tongue over her teeth.

"What exactly are you looking at, Erica?" Isaac asked, craning his neck.

Erica rolled her eyes at the look on his face. "Lydia sent a photo of some clothes. Willow didn't know and was walking by."

"Does she just look pretty? She always looked pretty. That's nothing new," Boyd said, shrugging.

"I will show Derek and Derek only," she said, walking over to the alpha even though he hadn't asked to see. Erica just liked to cause drama. She also shoved Isaac back so that he couldn't see the phone. "And don't you dare tell her, or I'll stab you."

Derek rolled his eyes, not seeing why Erica was making such a big fuss about a photo. He assumed she just looked good in whatever dress Lydia had her in for the night. But when Erica showed him the phone, he saw that it was what she wasn't wearing that looked good.

In the corner of the photo was Willow, who was walking by, her hands in her hair as she seemingly combed her fingers through it. She was still wearing the pleated white skirt that she left her house in — the one Derek had given her. But up top was all smooth skin and white lace wrapped around perky—

Derek's throat felt painfully tight he quickly shoved Erica's phone back into her hand. Though he only looked for a second, Erica had a pleased smirk on her red lips, happy to have gotten some kind of reaction out of him.

"Four days, Derek," Erica claimed once more. "And then to see if it's a matching set, I'm gonna rip that skirt off. With my teeth."

It was going to be a long night for Derek, he already knew. One filled with glowing yellow eyes and chained up betas and flashes of delicate white lace in his mind.

☽︎

Let in by Allison's father, Lydia sauntered into Allison's room with multiple bags from Macy's as Willow followed.

"Clear your schedule," Lydia declared, holding up the bags. "This could take a while."

Allison smiled as Lydia quickly began pulling clothes and laying them on the bed. "How many outfits do you plan on wearing tonight?"

"It's my birthday party. I'm thinking host dress, evening dress, then, mm, after-hours casual," she listed, making Willow giggle.

Allison smiled but then awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck. "I noticed that you didn't send out any invites."

"It's the biggest party of the year, Allison. Everyone knows," Lydia said pointedly. Willow stayed silent, biting her lip as she sorted the dresses. Allison was quite brave for bringing up such a sensitive topic.

"I was wondering if maybe this year things, you know, might be different," she said gently.

"Why would anything be different?" she asked defensively.

"Just 'cause things have been off lately. Things and people," Allison muttered. "Like Jackson."

Lydia narrowed her eyes at her. "What do you care about Jackson?"

"Do you know if he's coming tonight?" Allison asked. They needed to know if the kanima was going to be there.

"Everyone's coming," she stated, going back to the clothes. Lydia held up a crème colored dress. "This one's American Rag. Mm, I love it. For me, not you. This one's Material Girl. It's for you."

She handed Allison a pink floral dress that was very cute. As they continued looking at dresses, Allison's mother came in and leaned against the doorframe. Lydia was the first to notice.

"Ms. Argent. What do you think of this one?" she asked, holding up a blue strapless dress.

"Oh, it's lovely," Victoria said, forcing a smile. "Allison, uh, can I grab you for a moment to talk? Just the two of us."

"Um, can we do it later?" Allison asked, not really wanting to stop since they had just started.

"Actually, uh, to be honest, sooner would be - would be better," she said.

"Party's at ten," Lydia chimed in perkily.

"Um, will you be around before then?" Victoria asked hopefully.

"I think so," Allison said, not even glancing at her mother.

"You think so?"

"I don't know," she said, shrugging as Lydia started pulling out jewelry.

"Ally, it's alright if you go talk to your mom," Willow said in a gentle tone. "Really, it could be important."

"It's fine, Willow. I'll try to swing by later," she said, still not taking the hint.

Willow glanced at Victoria, catching her eye. Her smile was both sad and appreciative for her trying to help, obviously knowing what was going to happen.

I'll keep trying, Willow silently mouthed to her.

Victoria stood there a moment longer, just watching her daughter look through dresses and necklaces. Something told her that Allison wouldn't be swinging by, not even with Willow's gentle reminders.

☽︎

Allison's concerns about the attendance for Lydia's party had been valid ones. Usually, by the time the official start time rolled around, the Martin house was filled with guests. But only a handful of people had dared to show up to the party for the girl who wandered around the woods naked for two days and had a breakdown in economics the week before.

As soon as Stiles and Scott arrived, they sought out Willow. Scott promised to stay by her side all night even if Matt didn't show up and he intended to keep that promise.

"Have either of you seen Jackson anywhere?" Stiles asked as they walked through the fairly empty hallway.

"She stopped by the school earlier to invite him," Willow stated. "But I haven't seen him."

"Me either. Seen Allison?" Scott asked, looking around.

"No, but we should probably tell her what we found," he stated.

"I'm still kind of not sure what we found," he replied.

Stiles and his father, while looking at a yearbook, learned that all the previous murders had been a part of the swim team when they were in high school. Isaac's father was also the coach, which connected all of them.

"I figured out it has something to do with water," Stiles bragged. "You know, the fact that all the victims were on the swim team, the way the kanima reacted around the pool."

"So whoever's controlling the kanima really hates the swim team?" Scott asked.

"Hated the swim team. Specifically, the 2006 swim team. So it could be another teacher. Maybe like a student back then," he guessed. "I mean, who are we missing though? What haven't we thought of?"

The conversation halted as they walked to the backyard, where Allison was standing near the pool. Despite the awkward tension between her and Scott, she still joined them.

"Uh, Jackson's not here," was all she said.

"Yeah, no one's here," Stiles said scoffing.

"Maybe it's just early," Willow said with a hopeful smile.

"Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town whackjob," Stiles said.

"Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks," Allison said.

"I didn't," Willow said, putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket to keep warm. Erica had voted for the white silk minidress, which Willow was now wearing. Granted, she had likely chosen that one because it was also the outfit that had Willow half-dressed in the background.

"She's completely ignored Stiles the past ten years," Scott replied, not really feeling too bad about it.

"I prefer to think of it as me not having been on her radar yet," Stiles told him.

"We don't owe her a party," Scott said decidedly. In fact, a raging party might make their lives harder.

"What about the chance to get back to normal?" Allison asked.

"Normal?"

"Scott, it's kind of all of your faults that she's the town whackjob anyway," Willow said, putting it as nice as she could. "As the only person that's been there for her lately, I know how much she just wishes that everything would go back to the way it was — that she could not feel crazy for one night."

Scott sighed under his breath, giving in to Willow's argument. "I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here."

"Great. I'm gonna tweet something about it, which will definitely get people here," Willow said, pleased that he was helping.

"Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going," Stiles said. Though he didn't offer any more information.

"Who?" Allison asked, knowing he didn't exactly have a lot of friends.

"I met them the other night. Let's just say they know how to party," he said, chuckling.

☽︎

The 'people' that Stiles knew consisted of drag queens and ravers that he met at the gay club when they kidnapped Jackson and also the night of the warehouse party — where they, coincidentally, had also kidnapped Jackson, even if just for a short while. Though Lydia didn't recognize most of the people, it quickly turned into a fantastic party while she walked around, serving the pink punch she concocted.

Willow stood with Stiles and Scott, sipping on a glass of punch. Lydia's birthday party was pretty much, if not the only time that Willow ever drank. And even then, it was only a little bit. She was pleased to find that the punch Lydia made was really sweet and she could hardly taste the alcohol. There were also pretty purple flowers floating in the liquid.

"Are you gonna apologize to Allison or what?" Stiles asked Scott. They both glanced not-so-subtly at Allison, who was standing by Lydia and talking.

"Why should I apologize?" Scott asked, frowning.

"Because you're the guy. It's, like, what we do," he replied.

"But I didn't do anything wrong," he mumbled, pouting a little.

"Then you should definitely apologize," Stiles said, making Willow smile. "See, any time a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong, it means he's definitely done something wrong."

Scott shook his head. "I'm not apologizing."

"Is that the full moon talking, buddy?" Stiles asked warily. "Because last time, you sexually assaulted Willow, and I had dad lock you in a cell for a day as punishment."

Scott winced at the memory and looked apologetically at Willow. Though she never brought it up, and he apologized countless times, Stiles would likely never let Scott forget that horrible day of the full moon.

"It probably is the moon," Scott admitted. "Why do you care, anyway?"

"Because, Scott, something's gotta go right here. I mean, we're getting our asses royally kicked, if you haven't noticed. People are dying. I got my dad fired. You're gonna be held back in school. I'm in love with a nutjob. And to top that off, I'm also going to lose Willow to Derek inevitably — plus she has a stalker. Honestly, if you lose Allison to your stubbornness, I'm gonna stab myself in the face."

"Don't stab yourself in the face," Scott told him, looking out at the crowd with wide eyes.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because Jackson's here," Willow muttered, spotting the boy as well.

He had just entered the backyard, and Lydia soon came up to him, offering him a glass of punch.

"It's gonna be a long night," Willow mumbled before finishing off her drink.

While Stiles and Willow danced around the backyard, Scott sulked for most of the night. It sucked having to be the responsible one, but he had to keep an eye on Jackson.

The night went on in standard party fashion with people getting drunker and therefore getting louder. So, Scott wouldn't have heard Allison calling his name as she rushed up to him if not for his werewolf senses.

"Scott. Scott, where's Willow?" she asked, glancing around and not spotting the blonde.

"She just went in to use the bathroom. It's not even been a minute. Don't worry," he assured her. "She's not drunk either. She'll be right back—"

"Scott," she interrupted, grabbing his arm. "I just saw Matt walk by. So, we need to find her first."

"Shit," Scott cursed. Of course, Matt would arrive during the one time Willow had to leave his side. And Derek would break his arm for not escorting her to and from the bathroom. "Let's split and find her."

Since the downstairs bathroom was full, Willow had to go all the way upstairs. Once she was finished, she made her way through the crowded hallway, only to freeze when she heard a familiar voice call her name.

She looked at Matt in alarm, feeling her muscles tense and panic creep up on her. "Matt," she greeted, wrapping her arms around herself.

"Hey, I - uh, can we talk?" he asked, coming closer. Each step he took ended with her taking one back. Though that was a mistake, as she ended up herded into an empty room. "Please? Just two minutes?"

"Um, what about?" she asked, watching him warily. He moved to shut the door, but she shook her head. "Please leave that open."

Matt studied her and sighed, leaving the door open as she asked. "Did you — Allison said something to you, didn't she?"

"Matt, I'm really not comfortable being alone with you," was all she said.

"Look, I know I took some pictures of you that I should've told you about. But is it really that bad that - that I think you're beautiful and I think you should be the subject of a perfect photograph?"

Willow looked at the ground, frustrated and scared tears forming. How could he stand there and act like what he did was some form of compliment? Act like she was in the wrong for feeling uncomfortable around him.

"Matt, I - I don't know how you took some of those pictures—"

"Telephoto lens. I mean, come on, Willow," he interrupted as if she wanted a photography lesson. "Photographers call them candids."

"Taking inappropriate pictures of me through my window without my knowledge isn't a candid. It's s - stalking and also, given my age, considered—"

"Stalking?" he interrupted again, scoffing angrily. "So I'm - I'm a stalker now. That's - is that it? You - you think my bedroom is wallpapered with your photos. You think I'm the kind of guy that's gonna say something like, "well, if I can't have her, no one can." Well, you know what? Get over yourself, because there's another pretty girl walking through the room every five minutes."

Willow was shaking now as he continued to yell, stepping closer. But she took a deep breath and locked her eyes on the door, knowing Scott was somewhere near. "Well, then, all you have to do is wait another three," she told him, brushing past him.

Matt grabbed her wrist tightly, keeping her from leaving. "Willow, wait—"

His grip was gone in an instant. It was Allison who found them in the room and as soon as she saw Matt's hands on Willow, she acted. She grabbed his shoulder and kicked his legs out from under him, throwing him on the floor.

"What the hell—"

"Willow, go find Scott," Allison instructed, not taking her eyes off Matt.

Willow did as she was told, scurrying off to find the werewolf while Allison stayed behind. Slowly, the hunter crouched down to Matt's level, not letting him stand.

"Y - you're crazy," he said, trying to get out of her hold. "What is wrong with you?"

"If you so much as breathe in the same direction as Willow again, I'll put an arrow in your head," she whispered threateningly.

Meanwhile, Willow ran through the crowd until she found Scott, barreling into him. He had been staring at the stairwell with a haunted look on his face, as if he was seeing something horrible, but Willow grabbing him seemed to break whatever trance he was in.

"Thank god," he breathed out, wrapping his arms around her. "Matt's here."

"I know," she mumbled, leaning on his chest. "Allison got him away from me."

"There's - there's something wrong with the punch," Scott told her, rubbing his head. "Did you see Lydia while you were going to the bathroom?"

"No. It's been a while since I've seen her, actually," Willow said, frowning. They headed back out of the house, Scott not letting go of Willow's hand. "Werewolves can't get drunk. You really think Lydia did something to it?"

"I've got to find out. Something's wrong," he said.

The pair moved through the crowd, beginning to ask everyone if they had seen Lydia. When they got no results, they ended up shouting her name. But it was pointless, it seemed. The birthday girl had disappeared from her own party.

"There's Stiles," Willow said, pointing to the boy who was sitting near the edge of the pool. He was leaning on a column, seemingly completely out of it.

Scott crouched down to tap his face, but he was unresponsive. "Stiles, look at me."

"Here," Willow said, having grabbed a bottle of water off the refreshment table as they passed.

"Drink the water," Scott ordered, holding the bottle up to Stiles' lips. "Stiles, drink it. Something's happening, and I need you to sober up right now. Come on, Stiles."

"What do you think you are doing?" Danielle, a girl from school asked. She looked from the drunk stiles to the bottle of water. "You want to sober him up fast, that's not the way to do it."

"You can do better?" Scott asked doubtfully.

"I can do best, boy," she declared. Then Danielle grabbed Stiles' head and dunked it into the pool, cheering as she did so. Stiles resembled a floundering fish when she brought him back up for air. "How do you feel?"

Stiles glared at her while wiping water off his face with his sleeve. "Like I might have to revisit my policy on hitting a girl."

Danielle grinned proudly at Scott. "He's sober."

After explaining the situation to Stiles, the trio began searching for Lydia once more time. They combed every inch of the house and backyard only to come up empty. While she was gone, her party was getting bigger and bigger.

"Hey, I can't find her," Stiles said, running back over to Scott and Willow. "And, guys, anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out."

As if to prove his point, people began getting thrown into the pool, a clear sign that a party may be getting too wild.

"I can see that," Scott muttered, looking at the pool.

"What the hell do we do?" Stiles asked.

"I don't know, but we gotta—"

"I can't swim!" Scott stopped when he heard someone scream. They watched as two guys from the hockey team lifted a struggling body and carried him to the pool. "No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't—"

The person was thrown in and splashed around helplessly, unable to pull himself up. He was only in the water a second though because Jackson appeared and pulled him out effortlessly.

Willow saw a soaking wet Matt and held onto the back of Scott's sweater, an uneasy feeling washing over her.

Matt couldn't swim.

Everyone was standing around and staring at Matt, who was clearly upset. "What are you looking at?"

Matt angrily stalked away from the pool, only pausing for a second when he saw Scott, Stiles, and Willow. Scott moved to completely hide Willow from his sight. All three of them seemed to make the connection at the same time, and Matt realized that they did.

Willow didn't breathe again until Matt left the backyard. Scott watched him go, a guarded look on his face as he looked back on all the clues they had missed.

Then sirens sounded and flashing lights hit the front of the house. As soon as someone yelled the word "cops" it was a disaster. People were screaming and running in all directions, not wanting to be caught at the party.

Scott kept a tight hold on Willow as they left the property, losing Stiles in the crowd. When they got to the street, they saw several police cars there to break up the party. But more importantly, they saw Matt.

He was standing in the middle of the street, shaking with uncontrollable rage as he glared directly at them. And at his feet, unnoticed by the fleeing party-goers, was the kanima. Its tail was hovering around his body almost protectively.

Then a thick group of kids ran by and by the time they were gone, so was Matt. Without a trace.

Things were about to get bad. Very bad.