DISCLAIMER: I Do Not Own Teen Wolf
The hospital itself wasn't very busy, Scott saw. The pristine white halls were filled with only a small amount of people, visitors and doctors alike. He hated the smell of Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital; it was always a blanket of disinfectant over the stench of sick and blood. The only good thing about the place was his mother, Melissa, who was currently stood opposite him with a wide, almost knowing smile.
"Is my beautiful, talented and wonderful son actually bringing me dinner?" she asked, looking up from the paperwork spread in front of her to glance at the bag he'd just placed on the desk. It wasn't much. His last paycheque was weeks ago, and so he only had 5 bucks to pay for food.
So he bought her a McDonalds Happy Meal and drank the milkshake on the walk to the hospital.
"Thought you wouldn't mind skipping the cafeteria tonight," he lied. What? He was a teenage boy sweetening up his mum to let him borrow the car.
"You are the most thoughtful, loving..." she smirked knowingly, "most conniving little con-artist ever. You are so not getting the car tomorrow night."
Scott stared at her, slack jawed, "Mum."
"What?" Melissa demanded, "There's a curfew, no car."
There was a town curfew. A few days before, he and Stiles had overheard the sheriff talking about it. It was because of the body, the one he'd found not once, but twice, the one that allowed them to send Derek Hale, the alpha werewolf who bit him, to jail. Too bad he was released later that same day because it was announced the killer was an animal, not a human, and the body was identified as Laura Hale, Derek's sister.
A lot happened, he'd learned, while he was playing lacrosse and kissing his girlfriend.
"But," his mum grinned, "I will take this." She grabbed the food off of the counter and walked away. "Love you."
Scott frowned, muttered, "Love you, too," and stomped out of the hospital.
Well, he started to.
On the way to the door, his mind wondered to Garrison Meyers, the man he'd attacked. He had to see the bus driver; he had to know what happened. He still couldn't remember anything, unless you count a bunch of false images of tearing Ellie apart.
Scott, against his better judgment, turned around and crept to Garrison's hospital room. He was asleep in the bed, all of the lights shut off, and the machine was beating steadily in time with his heart. There was a bandage wrapped around his head, tubes in his nose, and blood stained around his face.
"Mr Meyers?" Scott cooed hesitantly. Garrison's eyes fluttered open, moved to stare at the teenager in front of him. "You okay?"
He said nothing, only started to hyperventilate. He grabbed Scott's shirt sleeve, making an odd whining noise at the back of his throat and glaring intensely.
"What the hell are you doing in here?!" Mrs McCall yelled, shoving her son away from the man. "et out! Now!"
He stumbled away, shaken, to the door. Behind him, Mr Meyers stared screaming.
*
Scott arrived at Derek Hale's burnt out mansion in time to see a squad car peel out of the driveway. He swallowed nervously, eyes darting over the windows in search for the alpha, but finding nothing but shadows and silence.
"I know you can hear me," he said levelly, trying to ensure that his voice didn't shake, "I need your help."
It started raining after a few seconds with no response, to the teen wold moved to the porch, in front of the door. The house really creeped him out, especially being here on his own. For a moment, his mind went to what it must have been like before the fire. Imagining Derek as anything other than a bitter murderer made his head hurt. Hell, imagining Derek smiling made his head hurt.
The man himself appeared then, closing the door gently behind him, but loud enough to make a substantial bang. He stared at the boy with an intimidating scowl, as if to say 'get on with it'.
"Okay," he started, "I know I was part of you getting arrested and that we basically announced you being here to the hunters. I also don't know what happened to your sister, but I think I did something last night. I had dream about... someone but someone else got hurt. And it turns out that part of the dream might have actually happened."
"You think you attacked the driver," Derek stated stoically.
Scott's lips turned down, frustration bubbling up inside of him. "Did you see what I did last night?"
"No."
"Well, can you at least tell me the truth? Am I going to hurt someone?" He asked quietly.
"Yes."
"Can I kill someone?" Scott questioned desperately.
"Yes."
"Am I going to kill someone?" He demanded, horror covering his face and filling his voice.
"Probably." At least he answered honestly, Scott thought darkly. "Look," Derek continued, "I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift, even on a full moon. But it's not going to come for free."
Scott sighed, "What do you want?"
"You'll find out," the older werewolf answered evasively. "But for now I'm going to give you what you want. Go back to the bus, go inside, see it, feel it, let your senses, your sight, smell, touch, let them remember for you."
"That's it?" Scott frowned, "Just go back?"
"Do you want to know what happened?" Derek countered, a note of patronization in his voice.
"I just want to know if I hurt him."
"No you don't," Derek pressed his lips into a thin line, "You want to know if you'll hurt her."
*
Stiles was surprisingly willing to follow Derek's advice, though he did complain rather openly. He allowed his best friend to request a ride to the high school, offering his jeep as transport and himself as company.
When Scott exited the car, moving to the gates they'd been forced to stop in front of, Stiles went too. The werewolf felt guilty for dragging the other teen into this and then making him wait in the car, but it was necessary. He didn't know what his immediate reaction would be to finding out what happened, but, if he lost control, he didn't want a fragile human in an enclosed space with him.
"Hey, no, just me," he rushed out, "Someone needs to keep watch."
"How come I'm always the guy keeping watch?" Stiles spat, hoisting a foot onto the gate, scowling when Scott yanked him down again.
"Because there's only two of us!" he hissed, And I'm the one who has to remember, not you.
"Okay," Stiles put his hand on his hips, "Why is it starting to feel like you're batman and I'm robin? I don't want to be robin all the time!"
Scott felt guilt claw at his stomach, "Nobody's batman and robin any of the time."
Stiles' face fell, "Not even some of the time?"
"Just stay here," the teen wolf ordered.
"Oh my God!" Stiles groaned, "Fine."
He walked back to the jeep, and Scott climbed the fence, trying not to pay attention to the glare he felt on his back the entire walk to the bus.
Moments later, he was back in the car, reeling, and yelling, "Go! Go!" as people flooded into the car park.
"Did it work?" Stiles inquired, "Did you remember?"
"Yeah, I was there last night," Scott glanced warily behind them, "And the blood, a lot of it was mine."
"So you did attack him?"
"No! No, I saw glowing eyes on the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek."
"What about the driver?" Stiles slowed the car to a normal car, relaxing slightly.
"I think I was actually trying to protect him," Scott informed his friend, relieved. He hadn't actually hurt the man. He wasn't the one who attacked him first.
"Wait, what? Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"
"That's what I don't get," he was getting really sick of being clueless about everything.
"It's got to be a pack thing," the paler boy mused. Scott gave him a questioning glance, "Like an initiation," he elaborated, "You do the kill together."
"Because ripping someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?!" Scott said in disbelief. Derek wanted to test him? See if he would help? But he didn't. Why did Derek want him to remember that he didn't attack someone, and that the alpha didn't control him?
"Yeah, but you didn't do it," Stiles pointed out, "Which means you're not a killer. And it also means that-"
"That I can go out with Ellie," Scott interrupted, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt.
The other boy said flatly, "I was going to say it means you won't kill me."
"Oh, yeah. That, too."
*
The next day, Ellie was caught between being excited, and being annoyed. Lydia had weaselled her way into her date with Scott, so they couldn't catch any alone time and they were stuck bowling. Yeah, the brunette enjoyed the odd game of ten-pin, but she didn't want to go there as a date. Maybe later in the relationship, but she didn't want him to feel pressured into anything. From the way his eyes widened in horror at lunch the previous day, and the fact she'd heard Stiles yell, "You're a terrible bowler!" when they thought she was out of ear shot, going to the alley was about the least enjoyable thing for them to do as a couple. Next to visiting a gynaecologist, or reliving her parents' funeral.
Allison didn't share her qualms (she actually was studying with Stiles now), and neither did Lydia ("I'm so excited," the strawberry-blonde drawled, "I just love bowling.), so the two other girls were with her in her bedroom, choosing an outfit.
Allison was scouring her wardrobe, frowning, and Lydia was next to her, giving her opinions on the slothign she held up in suggestion.
The brunette showed her an old black band t-shirt from some group she didn't even listen to anymore. Lydia barely even glanced at it. "Hmm, pass."
Allie picked another.
"Pass." Lydia nudged her out of the way and starting rooting through herself, "Let me see. Pass, pass, pass... ugh, pass on all of it," she swung her head around to stare at Ellie, who was sprawled on her bed and trying to finish her homework. "Ellie, dear, my respect for your taste is dwindling by the second."
"Oh, come on," Allison defended, "It is that bad."
"Allison, I can't say anything for your taste either," the shorter girl pursed her lips, "You're going on a date with that twitchy boy."
"It's not a date!" Allie whined, but the other girls ignored her.
"Huh," Lydia grabbed an old, bedazzled t-shirt that Ellie had never seen before and threw it at her, "This."
Ellie stood up, grabbed it, and held it out in front of her. She didn't know why she couldn't just wear what she was wearing now (a brown, leather skirt, with a teal t-shirt tucked in and brown healed brogues); she'd chosen the outfit after showering, but Lydia had decided it wasn't good enough and went in search for a new one.
The door opened, and Chris walked in, making the three teenagers look at him. Allison and Ellie gave him identical pointed looks, while Lyd fell down in a weirdly provocative pose on the bed.
"Dad," Allison said tersely, "Hello."
He caught the tightened lips on his daughter's face, and blinked, "Right, yeah, I completely forgot to knock."
"Hey, Mr Argent," Lydia smiled.
"Uncle Chris," Ellie started, "Do you need something?"
"I wanted to tell you that you'll be staying in tonight," he informed them, not looking the slightest bit apologetic. Ellie immediately opened her mouth to object, but her cousin beat her to it.
"What? I'm studying with Stiles tonight, and Ellie's going out with friends,"
"Not when some animal is out there attacking people." He shook his head. He wasn't about to let the two, oblivious young girls get hurt. Ellie started to protest, but he cut her off, "Hey! It's out of my hands. There's a curfew, no one's allowed out past nine thirty pm." Allison rolled her eyes. "Hey. No more arguing."
"Someone's daddy's little girl," Lydia mocked, obviously annoyed that the double date had been shot down by Chris.
Ellie scoffed, "Please. He's not even my dad."
She went to the window, face set in determination, and opened it out as silently as she could. She wondered briefly if she was even still capable at doing this, but removed the doubt almost instantly. She was able to do it back in New York, so she would definitely be able to do it now.
Ellie crept out and onto the roof, walking to the edge and cursing the fact that she'd chosen a skirt to wear, of all things.
"What are you doing?" Lydia squeaked, but Allison just smiled and followed her out. Ellie knew that she was excited about studying with Stiles, so she was okay with sneaking out, too. Even a goody-two-shoes had to be BA sometimes.
Ellie flipped off of the roof, sticking the landing with ease and precision, moving in time to not get crushed by her cousin, who wobbled a bit but remained standing. "Ten years gymnastics," Ellie called up to her friend, "I used to do this all the time back in NYC."
"You coming?" Allie asked.
The strawberry blonde grinned, "I'll take the stairs."
*
Allison started her trek to Stiles' house, and Ellie drove with Lydia to the bowling alley. They got their before everyone else, and were able to avoid unnecessary queuing by getting their shoes.
"Two size fives," Lydia ordered the clerk, who looked to be about fifteen. He had a lot of bad acne, and just looking at the girls made him start shaking, but the brunette offered him a slightly awkward, slightly reassuring smile. By now, she was sued to her friend's assertiveness. This kid definitely wasn't.
Jackson appeared next, looking suave and very primped. He immediately pulled Lydia into a lingering kiss, then pulled back to greet Ellie with a slight smile. Scott arrived at exactly eight o clock, and he beamed when his girlfriend hugged him as a hello.
They paid for their lane, the boys collected shoes, and then they sat down together. Ellie checked lots of balls weighing them; testing how well she'd able to throw them, how smooth they were in her hands. Scott was next to her, but he looked gormless.
"You really look like you know what you're doing," he told her, sounding nervous. She gave him a smile.
"Well," she said dropping her voce, "I used to do championships when I was a kid. Don't tell Lydia and Jackson that, though. I want to use my pro status to my advantage." She gazed at him curiously, "When was the last time you bowled?"
"Uh," he tried to remember, "At a birthday party. When I was eight."
"I'm sure you'll do fine," she said encouragingly, "It's pretty straight forward."
"Yeah," he said nervously, "I'm sure."
She grabbed a light oink ball, grinning, and pecked him gently on the lips, "That's the spirit, love," she said, before skipping off to the other couple.
It was obvious who was going to do well. Jackson helped out Lydia, who only managed to knock down three of the pins. Ellie, true to her word, was very, very good. She didn't even check what she got. She knew that she got a strike every time, without fail. Scott really didn't want to follow her.
"Somebody brought their A game," the other girl smiled, and the brunette laughed, taking a seat next to her boyfriend.
Jackson stood up to play and, much to Scott's dismay, managed to knock down every pin. He swallowed thickly, knowing he was about to make a huge fool out of himself. With small, stumbling steps, he approached the lane, heart thudding so wildly he was momentarily worried he would shift.
"You're up McCall," Jackson said his name like a particularly ugly curse word.
Ellie rolled her eyes, "You can do it, Scott."
As soon as he let the ball go, it ran into the gutter. Jackson chortles, while his girlfriend giggled mockingly. Ellie bit her lip, scowling. So, he didn't hit any pins. So, what?
"Jackson," she said sweetly, "Mind shutting up?"
"I'm sorry," he said between laughs, "I'm sorry. I'm just flashing back to the words 'I'm a great bowler'."
"Maybe he just needs a little warm up," Lydia suggested.
Jackson scoffed, "Maybe he just needs the kiddie bumpers."
"Just aim for the middle," Ellie instructed, and Scot sent her a thankful look. "Keep your eyes on the place you want it to hit." Jackson was still laughing, so she turned to him, "Let him concentrate."
"Come on," Scott murmured when he turned around, "Just one pin. Please." He let the ball go, and, for one measly second, it seemed like it was going in the right direction... but then it veered off and straight into the gutter. He groaned, hearing Jackson chuckle even more behind him.
"Great job, McCall," he said sarcastically, "You are a real pro,"
"Don't worry," Ellie rested her head on Scott's shoulder as he sat down beside her, "We just started."
The next few rounds were painful. Lydia managed a few spares, Ellie and Jackson got strikes every time... Scott didn't even knock down one pin. He was stood up again, trying to put off his humiliation for as long as possible, when Ellie decided that she was going to help.
She rushed forward to stand next to him, sympathy curling inside of him. "Scott," she said sternly, "You're thinking too much."
"I'm sorry," he sighed, "I'm ruining this,"
"No!" she denied quickly, "You're not ruining it, Scott. You could miss the lane completely and I wouldn't care, but I really want to shut Jackson up. His laugh is really annoying. Just... just clear your head, Scotty. Think about something else."
"Like what?"
"Think about me," she suggested. She started to walk back to her seat, but then decided against it, grinning as she leant close to him again and whispered, "Naked."
Scott's head was instantly filled with not so appropriate images and his face went slack. He threw the ball, dazed, thinking about nothing but her creamy skin and dark eyes. Honestly, he was finding it hard not to show everyone exactly what he was thinking about, especially when images of the good part of his dream started flooding his mind.
It took him a few moments to actually register that he'd gotten a strike, but he definitely had. Ellie laughed, Lydia's jaw dropped and Jackson was staring in disbelief. Ellie was finding it hard not to laugh, but seeing the slightly concussed, dumbstruck look on Jack's face made restraining herself difficult.
The strawberry blonde spun around to stare at her friend, eyebrows pulling together. "What did you say to him?" she asked, frowning. The brunette's lips twitched upwards slightly.
"Oh, nothing much," she waved a hand in dismissal, "I just gave him something to think about."
After that, Scott was doing just as well as Jackson, much to the other boy's annoyance. Lydia was scowling, obviously seething that her boyfriend was no longer the best male in the premises. Ellie herself was shocked; she didn't think just visualising her naked was enough to get his mind off of the game that much.
"That is seriously amazing," she commented as he scored yet another strike, before turning to face Jackson, "Jack, how many strikes is that?"
The boy's jaw ticked as he took notice of his girlfriend's awed expression. "It's six," he said curtly, as Lydia began to stand up, "In a row."
"Something just clicked, I guess," Scott grinned boyishly, staring in wonder at Ellie as she leant her head sweetly on his shoulder.
"Maybe it's natural talent," she suggested, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers.
He opened his mouth to respond, but Lydia beat him to it. "I could use a little natural talent," she purred, making the boy frown, Jackson scowl and Ellie give her a look of incredulity. "You mind helping me out this time, Scott,"
Scott shook his head, shifting his weight closer to Ellie in discomfort, "Uh, no, you're good. Go for it."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Lydia sniffed, grabbing her ball on her way to the lane.
"Hey," Jackson stood, "I'll help."
"Why don't I just try this one on my own," she snapped, and he made a gesture of agreement, looking miffed. The way she was acting really wasn't helping his dislike for the werewolf sat near him. It was a seemingly easy strike for her, and she returned to her seat with a wide smile. "I think I'm getting the hang of it."
"That was sort of perfect form," Ellie said, eyebrows arching.
Her friend twirled a strand of hair around her finger, feigning innocence. "Was it?"
"Maybe you should stop pretending to suck for his benefit," she tossed her head in the direction of the lacrosse captain.
Lydia snorted, "Trust me, I do plenty of sucking just for his benefit."
Ellie made a noise of disgust at the back of her throat, wrinkling her nose. "Okay," she raised her hands up in mock-surrender, "Please, never, ever, give me that much information about the two of you in bed again. It might just give me nightmares."
Later, Lydia and Ellie went to get food ("Oh my God, the chicken nuggets here are so good," Ellie moaned) and Jackson tried his luck at the pinball machine. Scott went to talk to him, knowing that he should try his best to clear the air between the two, especially if there were more dates like this planned for the future.
"Nice shot, man," he complimented, beaming, even though it really wasn't. Jackson just lifted his head to glare mutinously at him. "Listen," Scott tried, "I know we both didn't want to be here, but the thing is, we don't have to hate each other."
"I don't hate you." Jackson said after a moment; voice hard, "I just don't believe you. You know, you've got everyone thinking everything's fine and normal about you, but I know something's off. You cheated tonight."
Okay, so maybe Scott had used his werewolf abilities to improve his aim, but he wasn't about to tell his nemesis that. "How do you cheat in bowling?"
"I don't know," the boy replied, "But you did. And I don't know if it's steroids, or something weirder – I'm guessing something weirder, since it's pretty obvious that you're a freak. So, don't think for a second that I've given up on finding out what your little secret is."
"I don't have any secrets." Scott lied.
Jackson smirked. "Yeah, you do. And here's the other thing: I don't know why, but I think, whatever it is you're hiding, you don't want her to find out about it either."
*
Scott drove Ellie home that night, and waked her to her door. Jackson's threat was still ringing in his ears, but it was difficult to focus on anything but the girl in front of him, so he didn't even bother trying.
"So, uh, do you think we could hang out again soon?" he asked, leaning awkwardly against her porch railing.
"Definitely," she nodded, "But, I have to admit something. It's pretty important,"
Anxiety curled in his stomach, "Okay, uh, go ahead. Hit me with your best shot," he hurriedly put his hands up, "Not literally, of course!"
Ellie giggled quietly, "Um, I'm not a big fan of group dates. So, next time, I think it would be good for it to be just the two of us."
"Yeah," he grinned, "I guess I could handle some more of that."
"Okay," Ellie gently leaned up to place a kiss on his lips. It lingered for a while, uncertain, before he grabbed the back of her head to pull her more firmly against him. Her arms wound around his neck, his free hand came to rest on her wait, and for a moment all they could think about, feel, smell, hear, was each other. When they pulled back, she smiled and said, "Well, I could definitely handle more of that."
Scott couldn't help the little fist pump he did as soon as she was inside her house, but he was glad she didn't see. That certainly would've been embarrassing.
*
That night, Scott curled up in his bed, replaying the conversation he'd had with Derek not long after dropping Ellie off at home. The bu driver had succumbed to his wounds, and, though, at first, Scot had had no idea what 'succumbed' meant, Stiles soon informed him it meant the driver was dead.
And he'd known it was Derek's fault. Or, at least, he'd thought he'd known.
After an embarrassing fight with the older male, who had unceremoniously beaten the living rap out of him, they'd discussed what was really going on in Beacon Hills.
"I didn't kill him," Derek said, looking sweaty and not nearly as worn out as the teenager was, "Neither of us did. It's not your fault and it's not mine."
"This!" Scott yelled, voice hoarse from being gripped by the throat, "This is all your fault! You ruined my life!"
"No, I didn't." Derek said levelly.
"You're the one who bit me," Scott spat, leaning in close to the older werewolf's face.
"No, I'm not." Derek informed him, sounding angrier now.
"What?!"
"I'm not the one that bit you," Derek snapped.
Scott sat down, gasping, "There's another."
"It's called an alpha," Derek's face tightened, "It's the most dangerous of our kind. You and I, we're beta's. This thing is more powerful, more animal, than either of us. My sister came here looking for him, and now I'm trying to find him, but I don't think I can do it without you."
"Why me?"
"Because he's the one who bit you. You're part of his pack. It's you, Scott."
"It's me?"
Derek finished, "You're the one he wants."
*.*
Okay, so this only took me two days. Kind of sucks, but I'll roll with it. Sorry.
Anyway, thank you for all of the votes on the last few parts, and if you like this story please check out some of my others! Thanks for the reading! Hope you liked it :)