𝕭𝖆𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖕𝖚𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓
Three - 1X02
Second Chance Of First Line (part one)
NATALIA PUSHES OPEN THE DOOR TO THE BOY'S LOCKER ROOM, IGNORING AS THE INHABITANTS FLAIL AROUND, TRYING TO FIND SOMETHING TO COVER THEMSELVES WITH.
"Did you apologize to Allison?" Nat questions as she spots Scott, leaned up against his locker, a dazed expression on his face.
Scott merely nods in response, not even bothering to look at Nat as he instead focuses on a distant point past her shoulder, a lazy smile lighting up his face at the mention of 'Allison'.
Stiles jogs up to them, having heard the commotion of Nat entering the room.
"Did you apologize to Allison?" Stiles inquires, not having heard Nat ask him the exact same question only a few moments prior to his arrival (Nat still glares at him anyway, making Stiles send a mocking glare back at her- even though he's not entirely sure, what he had done to gain it).
"Yeah." Scott murmurs, not seeming to even notice his two friends in front of him as he continues to stare off behind them.
Stiles, unsatisfied with Scott's vague answer, nods slowly and asks, "Is she giving you a second chance or..?."
Scott nods, his smile brightening even more, "Yeah."
"Yeah? All right! So, everything's good?" Stiles beams.
Nat smiles softly, hitting Scott lightly on his shoulder and making a move to leave, after she decides the stench of the boy's locker room is beginning to get too much for her to withstand (It smells like how she imagines a sock filled with mouldy cheese would, after being left to ferment in the sun for ten years).
"No."
Nat frowns, halting her movements and turning back to look at Scott in confusion, "No...?"
"Remember...The Hunters?" Scott questions. At their nods, he continues sullenly, "Her dad is one of 'em."
The two friends fall into a stunned silence, their mouths falling wide open in shock, as Scott shuffles around uncomfortably at the announcement.
Allison's father is a...a hunter?
A hunter, who hunts werewolves for a living.
And, Scott, as a result of recent events, is a werewolf.
And he is dating a hunter's daughter...
"Oh my god." Nat cackles, unable to stop herself. The irony!
Scott sends a seething glare her way. It only serves to make her laugh harder.
"Her dad-?" Stiles starts, struggling to find the right words as he tries to process what Scott had just told them.
"-Shot me-" Scott finishes.
Nat sobers up at his words.
Allison's father- the hunter- shot Scott.
Shot!
Maybe this whole 'dating the hunter's daughter', is worse than she realises...
Nat's eyes widen slightly as countless scenarios, most ending with Scott's death at the hands of Allison's father, begins to flood her brain.
"Allison's father-?" Stiles continues, still struggling to comprehend the fact that Allison's father is a hunter. Natalia can't blame him.
"-With a crossbow."
"A crossbow!" Nat repeats in a panicked-yell.
Who even uses a crossbow anymore?!
"Allison's father?" Stiles questions once more.
"Yes! Her father!" Scott shouts before he drops down onto the bench, raking his hands through his hair in frustration, "Oh, my God-"
"No, Scott. Snap back!" Stiles orders firmly, finally snapping himself out of his own panic.
"Scott! It's okay, were not gonna let him hurt you," Nat softly proclaims, adding a small, "Again." as an after thought.
Their- somewhat- comforting words, are enough to pull Scott out of his state of despair, as he heaves a loud sigh.
"You okay?" Stiles probes, resting his hand on Scott's shoulder and giving it a small, reassuring squeeze.
Scott only gives him a nod in response, but it's enough to make Stiles slump in relief. Nat stands with her arms crossed over her chest, a thoughtful look on her face, "Does he know?"
Both their heads whip around to face her.
"Know what?" Scott inquires, his voice shaky.
"That you're what he hunts for a living."
Scott thinks for a moment, trying to recall his run in with the hunter, before answering hesitantly, "No... N-no, I don't think so..."
Stiles nods, seeming to understand what Nat is getting at, "Does she know about him?"
Scott's eyes widen, obviously not having thought about the fact that Allison may know about her father being a hunter.
Nat rolls her eyes as he begins to freak out for a second time.
"Oh, yeah, I don't know! What if she does? This is gonna kill me, man-"
"Okay, just focus on lacrosse. Okay?" Stiles advises, cutting off Scott before he can fall too deep into his own head again.
Stiles picks up Scott's lacrosse gear and thrusts it into his hands roughly, "Here, Scott. Take this. Take this, and focus on lacrosse for now, okay? That's all you gotta do, yeah?"
Nat nods in encouragement, reaching forward to squeeze Scott's shoulder reassuringly, "He's right. Even if the Argent's do know, they wont do anything here. Not with this many people around."
"Lacrosse." Scott mutters, nodding slowly in agreement.
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BY THE TIME NAT GOT TO THE GAME, (SHE GOT A LITTLE DISTRACTED AFTER SHE FOUND A VENDING MACHINE FILLED WITH REECES PIECES), SCOTT HAD MADE HIS WAY ON TO THE MIDDLE OF THE FIELD, WHILE STILES SAT ON THE BENCH, WATCHING CLOSELY WITH A FEW OTHER PLAYERS.
Nat swiftly makes her way towards Stiles after sending Scott a small wave, "Hey."
Stiles jumps off his seat in surprise at her voice. The other players on the bench send him glares of annoyance (all except a curly-haired boy, who jumps up with Stiles, blushing profusely when he realises what he did).
"Nat-!" Stiles yelps.
"Bilinski!" a voice bellows over Stiles' panicked shouts.
They both look over to see a middle-aged man strut over, a whistle swinging from a string around his neck.
"Coach-" Stiles shakily attempts to greet, straightening up at the sight of him.
"You," the man interrupts, looking straight at Nat, and completely ignoring Stiles. Nat raises an eyebrow at him as the man continues sharply, pointing a finger in her direction, "Who are you?".
"Natalia." she answers in a monotone tone, staring between him and his finger, unimpressed. She thought there would be more to the great 'Coach Finstock'. The way Scott and Stiles described him, he should have two horns and a lust for torture.
"Natalia...'Natalia', as is Natalia Hayes?" he questions, continuing before Nat can even answer him, "Yeah, I've heard about you. Con turned C.I.. Heard you're a real pain in the governments- and principals Morita's- ass."
Nat snorts at his description, not even bothering to hide her pride at his words, "That would me; yes."
"Do you even go to this school?"
"If I said yes, would you leave us alone?" Nat retorts.
"You play?" he questions after a beat of silence, tilting his head towards the lacrosse pitch.
Nat's eyes flicker to the field before nodding, "A bit."
He hums, squinting his eyes at her for a few seconds before picking up Stiles' lacrosse stick and passing it to her, ignoring Stiles' words of protest as he does so.
"Show us what you've got then, Hayes." Finstock commands, all but pushing her onto the pitch.
Nat expertly twirls the stick in her hand as a small cheer erupts from the crowd, making her stop and turn towards the source in interest.
Allison stands up on the benches with a beaming smile (that only seemed to grow bigger once she noticed she has Nat's attention on her), "Yeah- go, Nat!"
Lydia tugs lightly on Allison sleeves, whispering at her to 'get down', once sees people turn towards them curiously,
Allison ignores Lydia, and all the people around her, content on cheering Nat on.
Nat tries to ignore the warm feeling her support creates, letting her eyes drift across the groups of people sat on the bleachers. She rolls her shoulders, attempting to stretch out her muscles- It's been a while since she's actually played lacrosse (prison wasn't exactly the most...athletically inclusive).
She begins to turn away from the stands, figuring that she should probably actually join the other players on the field, when she spots familiar curly, blonde hair, amongst a group of rowdy on-lookers.
Erica.
When Erica sees Nat's attention is on her, she blushes a deep red, her hand coming up in a small wave. Nat's mouth unconsciously twitches into a smile.
"Alright, let's go! From the top!"
Nat forces her gaze away from Erica, turning back to the field just as Scott approaches her from behind.
"This is awesome!" He cheers, gently smacking her on the back in greeting, "Are you ready?"
Nat grins, "To destroy all these mediocre assholes? Hell, yeah."
Scott lifts his hand out in a fist bump, Nat tapping it lightly with her own before they separate, scattering around the ball as they wait for Finstock to blow his whistle.
Nat takes a deep breath, moving into position, (and really regretting her choice of wearing jeans today), as she quickly gazes at the other players around her, sizing them all up to try and deduce who will be her biggest problem.
Her eyes fall on a blonde boy, Jackson Whittmore, her mind supplies. From what she's heard about him from Scott and Stiles, he's the asshole of the school.
His eyes flicker towards her, winking with a grin, once he catches her eyes. Nat's face scrunches up in disgust in response.
Narrowing her eyes at him, (and silently promising to destroy him), she turns her attention back to the ball, which resides perfectly in between them.
As soon as Finstock blows the whistle, Nat lunges for the ball, Jackson doing the same on the opposite side. They fight for the ball, their shoulder knocking roughly into each others as they attempt to gain control of it. He tries to loop his foot around hers to trip her up, but Nat counters him, moving her body in front of him, and making sure her elbow hits him harshly in the ribs as she bends down to scoop up the ball in her net.
"Yes, Come on! That's how you do it, Hayes!" Finstock shouts approvingly as she pivots on her heels, looking for Scott among the group of players now swarming her.
"Scott!" she yells, only seconds before throwing the ball in his general direction. As soon as it leaves her net, Jackson crashes into her side, his shoulder pads causing her to gasp upon impact. She shoves him away from her roughly with a scowl, thankful it wasn't hard enough to take them both to the floor, before taking off towards the goal; Jackson hot on her tail.
Scott had by now passed the ball of to another player, who's running around the edges of the field, attempting to find a way through the crowds of players blocking his way to the goal.
Jackson hits the boy in his back with the blunt end of his stick, steeling the ball as he does so. Nat glares at him, so he wants to play dirty now, does he?
Unlucky for him, It's what Nat does best.
Smirking, she waits until his back is turned before sprinting towards him. She turns her stick so the net is facing her, slamming the other end of the stick into his stomach and watching with a grin as he doubles over in pain.
"Oops" Nat offers with a shrug as she scoops up the ball he had dropped.
Nat makes the final runs towards the goal post, grinning as she hears Stiles and Allison's yells of support all the way from the stands. Rearing back her stick, she slows her run just enough so that she can fire the ball towards the net. She holds her breath as the ball flies towards the goal, spinning for what feels like years, before it lands perfectly in the centre of the goal, zooming past the goalie before he even has a clue it was coming for him.
She turns around, throwing her stick in the air, as Scott bodily jumps at her in excitement. A breathy laugh escapes her as she puts her arms around him to support his weight.
"Oh my god! That was amazing, Nat! Did you see Jackson's face? He's so pissed" he cackles. Nat opens her mouth to respond, when Finstock interrupts them.
"Hayes, get here. Now."
Her mood begins to shift, waiting for him to yell at her for hitting Jackson, but instead, all she gets is a firm pat on her shoulder and a wide grin.
"How would you like to be on the team?" he inquires making her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Who am I kidding? Of course you do!"
Before Nat can refuse, or even say one word at all, his attention shifts onto the players still on the field, yelling at them to start a new game.
"Greenberg, take a lap!" Finstock commands, moving past her and onto the field.
Stiles takes the Coach's spot in front of her, his mouth wide open in shock, "You just got on the team."
"I know..." Nat trails, a smile slipping on to her face as the realisation begins to dawn on her.
"You just got on the team!" he repeats once more, a smile beginning to form on his face as he says it.
"I know!" Nat cheers, unable to push down her unexpected joy at the development. It feels good to be apart of a team- not that she'd ever admit that out loud, of course.
Stiles jumps at her, his hands wrapping around her body, much like Scott had done, in excitement.
When they pull apart, Nat turns towards the bleachers. She spots Allison first, the same smile she wore, when she'd first seen Nat go on to the field, still intact.
Allison does a little celebratory dance for her, making Nat let out a breathy laugh.
Pointedly ignoring Lydia's glare, she moves her gaze down the bleachers to where Erica had been previously sat- only to find the seat empty. Nat's eyes scan the crowd for any sign of the girl, her smile slowly falling.
Why does she care so much if Erica is still here, or not?
When she finally spots her, she's stood beside the bleachers, watching her with a large smile. Nat ignores the feelings (Relief? Happiness?) in her chest, and begins to walks towards her, leaving Stiles standing in confusion behind her.
"Hey." Nat greets, stopping in front of Erica with a smile.
"Hey...You- uh...you were amazing out there!" Erica enthuses, her smile growing even more, (The sight makes Nat's chest feel tight, like she can't breathe).
"Yeah?" Nat grins, once again pushing down the emotions that arises in her chest, "Thanks."
"So...um I- I just wanted to apologise...You know, for last night," Nat furrows her eyebrows in confusion- Was it the date thing? Did Nat make her uncomfortable? Upon seeing her expression, Erica continues, ducking her head slightly, "I- uh...Didn't mean to just drop all my feeling on you. It's just that you were really nice! And, you listened to me- and, once I started, I couldn't stop- and-"
"It's okay," Nat interrupts softly, before pausing and asking, "...You think I'm nice?"
Erica blushes brightly, her eyes darting away from Nat in embarrassment, "Yeah..."
After a beat, Nat holds out her hand, "Give me your phone."
Erica freezes for a second at her sudden request, before slowly complying, reaching into her pocket and hesitantly giving her phone to Nat, who waits patiently for it. Nat unlocks Erica's phone and begins typing in it, not saying a word.
"What are you doing?" Erica questions lowly, watching Nat closely.
Nat hands Erica back her phone silently, "There. Now you have my number."
Erica's eyes shot up to hers, another blush filling her cheeks. She seems to do that a lot, Nat muses, tilting her head curiously as she observes the girl's red face.
"W-what?"
"My number. Call me, if you need anything, okay? If you're in trouble...Or, you just- you know- wanna talk. Call me- or, text me! Whichever's easier." Nat rushes to explain, turning away from the brown eyes that seem to pierce her very soul.
Maybe she shouldn't have given Erica her number, it's not like they're exactly 'friends'...
Does the blonde even want to keep talking to her- a con, a thief, a liar- of all people?
Nat turns back to Erica after a second of silence, to see her smiling brightly. Nat pauses, her eyes softening at the sight of Erica's blinding smile, all other thoughts leaving her head as Erica's smile consumes her very brain.
Erica starts to speak when a loud gasp from the crowd cuts her off. Nat turns to look back at the game, to see Stiles running towards Scott, who sits panting on the floor, glaring off to his right at Jackson, who lies writhing in pain.
"Oh, shit," she gasps, turning back to Erica with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, to cut this short but-"
Erica shakes off her apology with an understanding smile, "It's okay. Go."
Natalia doesn't hesitate to turn and run towards Scott and Stiles, sliding onto her knees next to Scott and placing a hand on his shoulder, as she asks, "What the hell happened? I'm gone for like ten seconds and everything goes to shit! Did you-"
Whatever Nat was going to say, gets stuck in her throat, when she sees Scott's face. Fangs now hang out of his mouth, replacing his normal teeth, as his eyes switch rapidly between his normal dark, brown tinted irises, to a bright, honey gold colour.
"I can't control it, It's happening!" Scott warns, his face contorting in pain.
"What? Right here? Now?" Stiles yelps, sharing a wide-eyed look with Nat.
"Stiles, we've gotta get him out of here. Now!" Nat yells as she looks behind Stiles' shoulder at the group of people now surrounding Jackson. Stiles nods sharply in agreement.
"Come on, get up." he commands, quickly looking around to make sure no one's looking, before throwing Scott's arm over his shoulder, indicating for Nat to the same on her side, " Come on. Come on."
Between the two of them, they manage to heave Scott up and off the field, never realising the pair of eyes that burn into the back of them, watching their every move.
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STILES PUSHES SCOTT THROUGH THE LOCKER ROOM DOORS, NAT FOLLOWING CLOSELY BEHIND THEM.
"Come on, here we go. Sit down. You okay?"
Scott doesn't respond Stiles, opting instead to fall to his knees, gripping tightly onto a sink in an attempt to stay upright.
"Stiles." Nat warns lowly, when Stiles begins to follow after Scott through the locker room. She wisely keeps her distance, standing as close to the door as possible.
Stiles ignores her, moving to crouch down in front of his friend so that he can look him in the eye, "Scott, you okay?"
Scott's head whips up to meet Stiles' eyes, "Get away from me!" he screams, his eyes flickering to the same gold colour that they did on the field.
The shock from Scott's sudden outburst, makes Stiles fall back onto his heels. Scott slowly rises to his feet, stalking towards Stiles, who by now has begun to scrambled backwards away from him.
Nat lunges forward, grabbing Stiles by the shoulder just as Scott pounces for him. She pulls him behind a row of lockers, holding a finger to her lips. It's quiet for a moment, the only sounds being their heavy breathing as they strain to listen for any sign of Scott.
Scott suddenly leaps up on top of the lockers, peering down at them as if they're his pray. Nat and Stiles gape at the sight of their friend, one thought running through both their heads: That isn't Scott...
That's the werewolf.
Nat pushes Stiles towards the door, stepping in front of him and covering his back as he scrambles towards it.
Scott crawls his way towards the end of the lockers, watching them with a tilted head. Nat unconsciously copies his movement, narrowing her eyes at the boy. Scott seems to take her eye-contact as a challenge, as he pounces at them for a second time.
She braces herself for Scott's attack, closing her eyes tightly once she sees him jump at her. Her arms come up to cover her face on instinct. She prepares for his fangs to tear into her flesh, ripping her apart until there is only bone- but, nothing.
Instead, she hears a hissing sound erupt from in front of her. Stiles' yells filling the air as he sprays Scott down with the fire extinguisher.
Nat shakes herself out of her dazed state, pulling Stiles out of the door and around the corner. Not wanting to wait to see if Stiles' choice of weapon had worked or not.
Stiles stands panting, clutching the extinguisher tightly against his chest, beside her. Nat releases a large breath, watching as a piece of hair, that had fallen in front of her face during the struggle, flies out of her sight.
"Stiles...Nat?" the hesitant voice of Scott calls, "What happened?"
Nat immediately relaxes at his voice, a flood of relief filling her bones, as she peers around the corner to see him cowering on a bench, looking around the room with fear in his eyes.
His eyes immediately shoot towards Nat and Stiles as they appear in the doorway. Stiles moves in first, dropping the extinguisher onto the ground as he rips off his gloves, throwing them forcefully to the side, "You tried to kill us."
Nat studies Scott's guilty expression, before hesitantly walking over to him and sitting next to him on the bench, Stiles crouching down in front of them, his expression grim, "It's like we told you before- it's the anger, it's your pulse rising. It's a trigger."
"But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game, if you hadn't noticed..." Scott huffs with an exhausted laugh.
"Well, it's gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field." Nat retorts, her voice stern.
Stiles sighs, clenching his jaw tightly, "You can't play Saturday. You're gonna have to get out of the game."
"I'm first line-"
Stiles shakes his head, interrupting Scott regretfully, "Not anymore."
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"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?" NATALIA SIGHS, GETTING BORED OF WATCHING STILES DESPERATELY RUMMAGE AROUND IN HIS CLOSET.
"I know it's in here somewhere." he mumbles.
"Wow, that great! Thanks." Nat scoffs, slumping onto Stiles bed and yawning when she realises she isn't going to get a straight answer from the boy.
"Aha-!" Stiles yells triumphantly just as a soft buzzing sounds from his computer.
Rushing to his desk, he accepts the video call, entering the frame with a green, light-up gun, and smiling widely as he does so. Nat rolls her eyes, but can't help the fond smile that creeps onto her face at his antics.
"What'd you find out?" Scott sighs, completely ignoring Stiles's attempt to made him smile.
"Well, it's bad. Jackson's got a separated shoulder." Stiles admits.
"Because of me?" Scott asks, guilt practically dripping from his words.
"Because he's a tool." Nat scoffs, walking closer to the computer as Stiles nods in agreement.
"But, is he gonna play?"
"Well, they don't know yet. Now, they're just counting on you for Saturday." Stiles replies.
Nat tilts her head at the screen, lightly tapping Stiles on the shoulder before pointing to a small black blur on Scott's screen.
Scott, seeing their expression, frowns, "What?"
Nat doesn't let her shock reach her face, keeping a blank expression as she pushes Stiles's hands away from the computer, using the keyboard to type, 'It looks like-'
The computer glitches, making Nat clench her jaw in frustration, glaring down at the keyboard as though it's personally at fault.
"It looks like what?" Scott asks, his voice full of confusion as he leans closer to the computer screen.
"Someone's behind you." She finishes typing.
"What?" he whispers, looking intently at the screen.
The video call cuts off, leaving Nat and Stiles to be plunged into darkness.
The two are silent for a second; not moving, not speaking- not anything!- until, Stiles leaps for his phone, dialling Scott's number as quickly as possible. Nat waits impatiently as the phone begins to ring.
Scott never answers.
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(3967 words)
Written - 08/06/2022
Edited - 03/09/2022
Edited - 05/01/2024
authors notes,
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