xxiv. GALVANIZED
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Foster tore Scott's passenger motorcycle helmet off of her head, running a hand through her blonde hair before letting out a pleased sigh. Scott glanced behind him, the two seated on the bike which was now parked in the parking lot of Beacon Hills High School.
She grinned at him, beaming, "I love your bike."
He chuckled at the girl behind him, climbing off before holding his hand out and helping her slide off. It wasn't that she was super short or anything, she was actually quite tall, but he saw the way it made her smile and he loved the feeling he got whenever he did it so Scott had no complaints.
"I'm glad you do."
"No, I'm serious," she continued, leaning into Scott's side as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, the two beginning to walk down the sidewalk towards the school. "If you want to bring me to school everyday on it, I would have no complaints. Like, none. At all."
"I'll see what I can do about that," he mused, turning his head and pressing his lips against her temple. Foster's stomach erupted into a thousand little butterflies, her cheeks heating up while a grin formed on her face.
Nothing could ruin her good mood today. Nothing, at all. Last night she didn't have any nightmares, and today she got to ride on her boyfriend's motorcycle. Not only that, but it was also Halloween, meaning that it was Mischief Night last night, also known as Scott and Stiles pranking Finstock until he wanted to quit teaching. She found it quite amusing, actually.
Although he grin did fall when she noticed two more motorcycles parked in the parking lot, Foster glancing over them to see Aiden and Ethan standing there, their eyes locked on Foster and Scott.
A scowl grew on her face, Foster muttering bitterly, "What are they doing here?"
"Wh - " Scott began to echo, his gaze soon falling on the twins. Both Scott and Foster stopped in their stride momentarily, the two glancing at each other as they tried to piece together what exactly was going on right now. The two had been MIA for over two weeks now, and now they were here at school. Foster was pretty sure you can't just skip two weeks and come back. Well, maybe they could, but it'd be hard to catch up.
Hesitantly, Scott lead Foster over toward Aiden and Ethan, the for of them facing one another. Scott's arm was still securely slung over her shoulders, Foster having no intention to pull out of his grip. This was the first time the two had actually even attempted to show some PDA, and she liked it quite a bit. Foster liked holding his hand, she liked riding his motorcycle to school, she liked being in a relationship with Scott. He made her happier than anyone else did, and whenever she was with him, she felt like he was shaping her into a better version of herself.
"You're back at school?" Scott questioned, trying to keep the conversation mellow and without hostility. Who knows what would happen if Isaac decided to make an appearance?
"No, just to talk," Ethan explained, Aiden standing beside him brooding. The boy was like one walking tool, but in a way, she could tell that behind all of that was a guy with good intentions. She knew he truly cared for Lydia, but Foster was more or less pleased with his actions from beforehand when Deucalion decided to show up.
"Ah," Stiles mused from behind them, making his way to Foster's side. "That's kind of a change of pace for you guys. You know, usually you're just hurting, maiming, killing."
Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Aiden voiced to Scott, "We need a pack. We need an alpha."
Foster glanced toward Scott, her boyfriend seeming a bit taken aback by the request. The closest thing Scott had to a pack were his friends, and Isaac was the only one who was even a werewolf. The rest of them were just always there by his side no matter what, and that's what a true pack was. But something about this was just a little bit different.
"Yeah, absolutely not," Stiles answered for his best friend. "That was absolutely hilarious, though."
"You came to us for help, we helped," Ethan defended, Foster shrugging, unsure of what Scott should say.
"You did almost break his nose," Foster pointed out, glancing toward Scott again. She didn't want to butt too much into this. She knew he was capable of making the right choice, Foster's only problem was that she didn't even know what the right choice was yet.
Gesturing to Foster, Stiles added on, "You beat his face into a bloody pulp. That's not helping. In my opinion, that's actually counterproductive."
Still weighing his options, Scott inquired, "Why would I say yes?"
"We'd add strength, we'd make you more powerful," Aiden listed. "There's no reason to say no."
Stiles rolled his eyes dramatically, Isaac finally making an appearance and voicing, "I can think of one. Like the two of you holding Derek's claws while Kali impaled Boyd."
Foster couldn't lie, she had to agree with Isaac on that one. When put in perspective, the cons seemed to outweigh the pros in this list.
Glancing toward his three friends, Isaac amused, "I don't know why we're not impaling them right now."
Aiden was quick to allow his eyes to blaze a blue color, fangs in his mouth as he lets out a deep, low growl. "You wanna try?"
Isaac took a threatening step forward, a smirk toying on his lips. Foster's eyes widened, knowing how much Isaac loathed the twins. She was quick to stick her hand out, her fingers wrapping around his wrist in order to pull him back. Isaac glanced back in confusion, Foster shooting him a look of warning. The last thing she needed was for Isaac to get himself killed in front of the entire school. That could go badly, very badly. Bitterly, Isaac took a step back, Foster still keeping her eye on him.
Scott shook his head. "Sorry, but they don't trust you, and neither do I."
And with that, Scott was gently pulling Foster forward, the two of them making their way into the school. Isaac and Stiles followed behind them, Isaac going off to search for Allison real quick. Foster didn't necessarily know what was going on between those two, but they were definitely adorable, in her opinion. She would not be disappointed in the slightest if the two of them chose to hook up anytime soon. In fact, she wants them to.
The moment the three teenagers walked through the front doors, a toilet paper roll is flying through the air, hitting Stiles in the face.
"Hey, that's my face!" Stiles snapped, smacking the roll to the ground. Since it was Halloween, toilet paper littered the hallways, confetti and streamers all around them. People also took pranking on a day like this just a little bit too far. But in all honesty, it was a rather eventful day. "Good decision, buddy. Good alpha decision."
A little unsure of himself, Scott spoke, "I hope so."
"You know so," Stiles assured, making his way toward his locker.
Both Scott and Foster waited for him, the three of them all having Economics next with Finstock. The two boys were far too excited for that class and when Foster asked why, they just told her she had to wait and see. She had a feeling that coach would be on the verge of strangling some students, but she also had a feeling that it would be worth it.
As Stiles spun in his combination, Foster's gaze was set in on the end of the hallway, watching as Kira's books tumbled out of her locker and in a pile at her feet. Foster let out a soft sigh, feeling bad for the girl. She seemed to sweet, and besides, she printed out at least two hundred pages worth of research on bardo for Foster.
"I wonder how she's doing," Foster mused, watching as Kira bent down and gathered them all together.
Stiles glanced toward her half heartedly, mumbling, "What do you mean?"
Foster scoffed at his words. "She practically became kibble, Stiles. The girl's got to be wondering why this town is jacked up enough to have a coyote run through the halls."
"Then go ask her," Stiles stated simply, Foster's eyes widening.
"Why do I have to do it?" Foster demanded, both of the boys sharing a knowing look with one another before looking toward Foster. "What? What am I missing this time?"
"Well, it wouldn't hurt to make another friend," Stiles trailed off, Scott keeping his mouth shut and looking sheepish.
Foster's eyes widened in confusion, pointing out, "But I have you two. And Isaac."
Stiles raised a brow at her, voicing, "How about a friend who's a girl."
Foster shot him a glare, snapping, "I've been starting to talk to Allison and Lydia again."
Foster was growing annoyed now, shooting daggers in Stiles' direction.
"But don't you want someone who isn't Isaac to talk about Scott to?"
Foster scoffed. "I do not talk about Scott to Isaac!"
Both boys raised a brow at her in accusation, Foster shrugging.
"Maybe sometimes - " They raised their brows even higher. "Okay!" she snapped, holding her hands up in defense. "Fine, I'll talk to her. You two happy?"
Stiles grinned smugly, "Very."
She rolled her eyes, turning away from the two while muttering, "Bite me."
Foster never ended up having a chance to speak to Kira before class, though. Which was why in a matter of two minutes, Foster was seated in Finstock's class, Stiles and Scott both in the front grinning wildly at each other. Foster wasn't lucky enough to sit with her two friends in the front, meaning that she was in the back by herself. She was still a bit annoyed when they said she needed friends who were girls, she was just fine with Isaac.
She was lost in thought, soon ripped out of it when Finstock's voice rang throughout the room.
"Son of a bitch!"
Foster couldn't help but feel a laugh escape her lips, Stiles' fist pumping into the air, quickly yanking it back down before Finstock walked out of his office. The moment he entered the room full of laughing teenagers, Finstock chucked a pencil down at the ground.
"Mischief night!" he snapped. "Devil's night. I don't care what you call it, you little punks are evil. You think it's funny every Halloween my house gets egged? A man's house is supposed to be his castle."
In the front, Scott's face was lit up with delight. Well, it was until Finstock slammed the palms of his hands against the desk, causing Scott to jump up in fright.
He then backed away. "It's a frickin' omelette!" He then took notice of a wrapped present sitting on his desk, Finstock rolling his eyes. Grabbing it, he mutters, "Oh, this again?" Scott and Stiles shared a look of confusion, Finstock tossing it behind him. "I don't think so?" And then, he stomped on it with his foot, a shatter echoing throughout the room. His eyes widen, bending down to see a mug with his face on it reading '#1 Coach.' Reading the card, he muttered, "Happy Birthday. Love, Greenberg."
And so far, that was supposed to be the worst thing to happen to someone today. Little did anyone know just how wrong that statement was.
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Not even a good five minutes after Finstock's class, Foster was already ditching math in order to here the most terrifying news. Shrapnel bomber, William Barrow, escaped the hospital and that he was now here, in this school. The guy tried to blow up a bus full of kids, he was a sick bastard.
"Kids with glowing eyes?" Isaac reiterated Stiles' words, himself, Stiles, Foster, Lydia, and Allison all walking alongside each other as they tried to figure out this whole entire mess. "He said those exact words?" That was only extremely terrifying considering that there are four boys in this school that accurately match that description.
"Yeah, and no one knows how he woke up from anesthesia," Stiles continued on, Foster's eyes widening. How does someone just wake up from that? "It's just that when they opened him up, they found a tumor full of lives flies - which would be all kinds of awesome in any other circumstance."
While they continued walking down the hall, Lydia stopped suddenly, voicing from behind them, "Did you say flies?"
Foster's brows furrowed together, halting her stride and slowly turning around. Allison, Isaac, and Stiles were all quick to imitate her motions.
"Lydia?" Allison questioned, all of them knowing that Lydia had a special gift, being a banshee and all.
Frustrated, Lydia explained, "All day I've been hearing this sound." She huffed. "This buzzing."
Foster nodding, concluding, "I'm taking it you're hearing flies, right?"
"It's exactly like the sound of flies," the strawberry blonde confirmed, nodding her head firmly. The four of her friends came back over toward her, none of them sure how exactly to go about this situation.
Foster let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair nervously before finally speaking up, "Look, I'm gonna go find Scott and let him know that we're in the same building as a freaking shrapnel bomber, okay?"
She turned around, letting out a huff of frustration.
It really wasn't a day in Beacon Hills unless someone almost dies.
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By the time Foster found Scott, Scott's eyes were wide as he only managed to pick up the words bomb, glowing eyes, and barrow in her wild rant. He could tell that she was on the verge of snapping, and she had every right to feel that way.
The hallway was thinning out, barely any students left in it as Scott extended his arm, wrapping his hand around Foster's bicep in order to turn her around. His eyes were soft as he took in her stressed out appearance, Foster about a second away from ripping her hair out.
He encircled both his hands around her arms, running the up and down in a calming manner. Foster took a deep breath, Scott sending a comforting smile down toward her.
"Okay, wanna try that again, but a little slower?" he questioned, chuckling as she rolled her eyes.
Happily in his hold, Foster began to explain, "You remember William Barrow from the news? Yeah, well, he's in our school right now looking for people with glowing eyes to murder in some ridiculously terrifying way. And take a wild guess on who here has glowing eyes."
His face paled slightly, eyes widening at her words. "That doesn't sound good."
"My point." Foster sighed, shaking her head in frustration. "Lydia says that she's hearing flies, and although the police are leaving, she can still hear them. Actually, she said they're getting even louder."
"That really doesn't sound good."
She cracked a grin, teasing, "You sure catch on quick, McCall."
He smiled brightly, soon leaning in to leave a kiss on her forehead. "I know."
She rolled her eyes at him, trying to ignore how much her heart's hammering. . . or the fact that Scott can probably hear her racing heart beat.
Embarrassed, Foster mumbled, "Go find Isaac, he's waiting for you. Said something about trying to catch a scent." He chuckled, Foster smiling softly. "And Scott?"
He was silent for a second, breathing out, "Yeah?"
"Promise me you'll be careful," she pleaded, her voice cracking slightly.
Foster had no idea how she'd be able to handle losing him. Without him, she'd been even more insane than she already was. He kept her grounded and down to Earth despite the fact that she's slowly losing her mind, has a heart encircled with darkness, and a mother who's still in a comatose state without any signs of changing.
His expression was softened, tucking a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear before nodding. "Of course. Nothing's going to happen to me, okay? And I won't let anything happen to you either."
She nodded, Scott sending her one last assuring smile before taking off in order to proceed in a plan of action.
Foster just didn't know if she could handle this whole world she was living in any longer.
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After Scott had left, Foster found herself alongside of Lydia and Stiles in the art room. She ran into the two of them when they were barreling down the hallway in a panic. She didn't blame them in the slightest though considering they were trying to find a shrapnel bomber who could very well be connected to the supernatural world in one way or another. It was kind of terrifying on every sort of level.
Which was why Foster worked alongside the dream team (or couple, Foster would prefer to call them a couple). Although, the three of them being the only ones who didn't know how to use a firearm or magically grow claws, that meant they had to be defenseless and search for Barrow the hard way. They couldn't just sniff him out.
Currently, Allison snuck out of the building on lock down in order to search through the bestiary for anything on flies, Scott and the other werewolves were in the basement trying to track Barrow's scent, and Lydia, Stiles, and Foster were upstairs searching various classrooms.
They were currently in the art room, various paintings and projects on display for students to view. Foster wasn't in here often. In fact, she's pretty sure she's never even been in this room. She's not exactly talented when it comes to anything having to do with creating things.
Stiles peered behind paintings, Lydia questioning, "Scott and Isaac are in the basement, right?"
Foster nodded from beside the girl, adding on, "So are Ethan and Aiden."
"The plan's meet in the middle uh - I think in the boiler room," Stiles tacked on, sifting through pages. Who knows, maybe Barrow could have left something, or possibly even a few drops of blood while he was going through the room. He did wake up in the middle of surgery, after all.
Lydia's green irises widened, breathing out, "All of the wolves - all of the ones with glowing eyes - are in the basement at the boiler room."
Foster was a bit confused, realizing that Barrow now had all of them in one spot, making it easier for him to attack them. What she didn't realize though, was something that Stiles put together quicker than lightening.
He whipped around to face them. "Oh, my god."
Foster's brows furrowed together. "What? Stiles, what is it?"
"An engineer could use a boiler room to blow up the whole school," Stiles spoke, Foster's eyes widening. Was he saying what she thinks he is? Is Stiles trying to imply that in Barrow's desire to murder those with glowing eyes could end up killing every single person in the high school?
Her heart began to race, realizing that both Scott and Isaac were down there. Her boyfriend and her best friend, two people that she mentally cannot handle losing. They were the two people who made her life even worth living. Without them, she'd be no where, she'd have no one besides her father.
Ever since her mom's accident, Foster became accustomed to the fact that her father was the only person she had left in her life that she could rely on. That he was the only person she'd have in her life in general, the only person she could love. After leaving all of her friends and her life behind, her father was the only constant she had. Without him, she was no one.
And then Scott McCall and Isaac Lahey entered the picture, and they changed everything.
"We have to get them out," she voiced in a panic, her palms becoming sweaty and her heart racing due to her rising panic.
"No, we have to get everyone out," Stiles corrected, focusing on the bigger picture at hand which was the fact that every single person in this building could be obliterated in a catastrophic explosion.
"How do we do that?" Lydia demanded, knowing that they couldn't just go into every room and tell them all that Barrow may or may not light the school up like a torch.
Stiles was silent for a moment, a smirk soon growing on his face. If anyone had a plan during times like these, it was Stiles. The boy was as smart as he was sarcastic, and the answer would be extremely sarcastic.
Which is why in the span of five minutes, Lydia and Foster were glancing at each other nervously as Stiles pulled his hand down on the fire alarm, the incessant ringing echoing throughout the entire school. Students began to pile out of their classrooms, heading toward the exit.
Foster had to admit, it was smart. But the moment Stiles shot them a smug look of pride, Finstock made an appearance. Standing behind the Stilinski boy, Finstock held an unamused expression. In fact, he looked like he wanted to hit Stiles over the head as of right now.
Lydia cleared her throat, Stiles' face falling in confusion before turning around, his eyes widening considerably. He may have been in trouble, but at least he saved everyone from dying. That's got to count for something, right?
Finstock grabbed him by the air, tearing him away from the alarm and dragging him down the hallway roughly. Lydia and Foster shared a look, soon following behind them quickly. The hallways were beginning to clear out, Finstock seething in rage. He must not have been a good mood. . . well, he did have his entire office collapse and his house turned into an omelette.
"Pulling a fire alarm on Mischief Night is one thing," Finstock snapped at him, a pained expression crossing Stiles' face as Finstock's grip on his ear tightened, "but doing it when there's a mass murderer spotted near by is insane!"
He finally released his grip on Stiles' earlobe, Foster and Lydia standing behind Stiles sheepishly as Finstock raved.
Veins bulging from his neck in anger, Finstock sputtered, "If I was four years younger, I'd - I'd punch you!"
Foster's brows furrowed together, confusion lacing her facial features. Stiles' own expression mimicked hers, cocking his head to the side as he tried to understand what Finstock just said.
"Coach, that doesn't make sense."
Sarcastically, Finstock countered, "Oh, well, it does to me."
He then stalked off and back into the school, leaving the three teenagers to stand their gaping in confusion. Foster couldn't help but wonder if he was on drugs.
Lydia soon reached out for Stiles' hand, Foster grinning smugly at her. Lydia raised a brow in confusion at Foster's expression, Foster shooting the strawberry blonde a knowing look. Could they just date already? Please.
Stiles, on the other hand, was not aware of the girls' silent conversation, pointing over to where he spotted Isaac, Scott, Ethan, and Aiden. "There."
Foster's head snapped up, noticing Scott in the distance. She let out a sigh of relief, Scott's gaze solely on her. She picked up her pace, rushing over toward the four werewolves, but only keeping one in mind.
Once there, Foster was by his side immediately, standing in between Scott and Isaac. She wasn't going to lie, back in the school she was terrified for their well being. She needed them to be okay.
"We couldn't find anything," Aiden spoke automatically, Foster unsure if that was a good or a bad thing. Maybe Barrow was gone, but then again, Lydia didn't seem sure of that, and for the most part, Lydia's abilities were never wrong.
"Not even a scent," Scott continued, Foster glancing toward him in confusion.
"I get it not being strong if he were no longer here, but shouldn't like - I don't know? Linger a little bit or something?" Foster inquired, feeling like none of this was adding up correctly. There was something off about the entirety of this situation.
"It's three o'clock so school's over," Stiles pointed out, still confused about everything that just happened. "If there was a bomb, wouldn't he have set it off by now?"
"Does that mean everybody's safe?" Ethan offered, but all of them knew that if that were the case, they wouldn't actually be in Beacon Hills.
"I don't know," Lydia spoke, a confused and pained expression written across her face. Lydia had always been able to rely on her abilities, even if she couldn't understand them. Either way though, she had never had them not be right before. Even Foster was able to tell that it was taking a toll on her friend. "I just - I don't know."
Little did they know that originally, Lydia was more than right. None of them understood just how right she was.
And none of them knew just how detrimental not knowing was.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE: okay so i hope you guys liked this! i'm personally not a huge fan of writing 3b since i've written so many times, but i'm determined to finish all the way to four with foster before summer's over so be prepared for like tons of updates! anyway, don't forget to let me know what you thought of the chapter! :)