☾

Mary Anne jogged down the stairs, stuffing her keys and phone into her back pocket, intent on leaving to go to Stiles' house. She was already dressed for the rave, a gray Rolling Stones shirt, skinny jeans, and her old Chucks, a backpack slung over her shoulder as she and Stiles had made plans for her to spend the night at her house. Her hair bounced behind her in its ponytail, tendrils escaping and framing her face. She hoped to leave without any interference with Nessa, but it seemed that fate had other plans.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She looked over to see Nessa standing from her seat at the kitchen island, hands falling to her hips, eyes narrowing. If it wasn't for her anger and resentment towards her, Mary Anne would snort at the resemblance she had with their mother. But this was not that situation. Without missing a beat she replied, "Out. What does it look like to you?" She tightened her hands around the strap of her backpack, sensing that whatever they were going to say, was going to end up being a fight.

"It looks like my little sister is sneaking out."

"Not really sneaking out when you can quite clearly see me."

"Cut the bullshit."

She rose a thick brow, challenging her. "I'm going to see Stiles. We agreed to meet there to pick up Scott together, and go to the underground rave."

"For what?" She snapped, stepping closer but a warning growl from me made her stop a foot away from me. "Does it have to do with Jackson being the Kanima?"

"So you do know what's going on," Mary Anne accused her, eyes narrowing. "And you're doing nothing to help us."

"I shouldn't have to help you because it isn't your fight."

"Really? It became Scott's fight when Peter Hale bit him, and it became my fight when I decided to help them because that is what decent people do. How can you live with yourself after taking the memories of a seven-year-old and sitting on your ass while people are dying?"

"It isn't my responsibility. It's no one's."

"You must be a pretty cold-hearted bitch then," she jabbed at her. "While you can sit on your ass while others are dying, I'll be risking my neck to help them because I care. If I have these powers I should at least use them to help others."

"Oh, you have them for something, but it isn't for this!" Nessa hissed. "Do you have any instincts on self-preservation?"

"Very little, because I don't care about self-preservation. If others are safe, that's fine with me. If my friends are safe, that's fine with me."

"Your friends? Your friends will lead you to death."

Mary Anne sucked in a harsh breath and curled her hands into fists, blood boiling at her sister's ability to ignore the deaths of others lives. "My friends," she repeated in a firm, unyielding tone, "are my family. More than you or Nik."

For once in the entire conversation, Nessa actually looked hurt by that. Her eyes became glassy, but that was it. "Nik and I are your family," she protested.

"We haven't been a family since the accident," Mary Anne pointed out, foot tapping against the floor restlessly. "You and Nik have always blamed me for it, when really, it was the drunk driver's fault. You blamed an innocent, defenseless, injured, mourning child!" Her voice was rising in volume, eyes starting to glow and voice turning into growls. She could faintly hear a bulb near them burst, but neither of them cared. "I don't give a fuck about whatever lies and excuses you tell me, I will always resent you for that, and for taking my memories of Stiles and Scott." She spun on her heel and moved to leave, wanting to get away from her.

"Oh, no, you're not going anywhere," Nessa chuckled sardonically, hand shooting out to grab her bare bicep.

Mary Anne whipped around, eyes blazing their gold and emerald color, growling at her. "Let go of me." Her voice sounded the same from when she was threatening Erica before she got trapped in the pools with Stiles and Derek; low and resonating. The lights above them flickered for a moment but the younger blonde didn't notice. "I am going. Try to stop me, and see what will happen to you."

She stepped forward, boldly, staring right into her eyes. "I'm your sister," she whispered smugly. "You won't hurt me."

"You wanna test that theory? Because you're not my sister; you're just a poor excuse for Mom."

Nessa looked unaffected, her expression remaining smug. The tension thickened in the room by the second and Mary Anne was ready to pounce when her brother's voice pierced the air.

"Mary Anne, you can go to the rave."

The oldest Archer sibling whipped around to stare incredulously at her younger brother who was casually strolling down the stairs. "You have to be joking. You want our baby sister to risk her life for what, some teenagers?"

"She isn't a baby anymore, Ness," Nik spoke calmly. "You can't control her. And she isn't risking her life for 'some teenagers'. She's risking her life for her pack."

"Her pack? She's an Omega, she can't have a pack."

Mary Anne spoke up from behind her, "That doesn't mean anything. We work as a pack. Scott, Stiles, Allison and I."

Nessa stepped away to look at them. "A pack made up of two young, amateur Omegas, a hyperactive human, and a werewolf hunter? Yeah, that sounds more like a joke."

"A pack made up of two strong werewolves, one who happens to be a hybrid, and the other who happens to be my Sire. An intelligent human who is my Soulmate. And a badass girl that I'm lucky to call my friend."

Nessa faltered but continued to glare daggers at her little sister. "Why the hell do you want to help them? It's not like you've ever been heroic and selfless before."

Nik answered for her, "She always has been. You just never cared."

"He's right," Mary Anne spoke up, her wolf features gone now that she had a chance to calm down a bit. "Despite my protests, you sent me to New York under the guise of helping me get better. But I already was doing that here. And going to New York undid all that work. You sent me there just because you didn't want your lies catching up with you, right? I was starting to remember, despite everything you did. You didn't care that I needed Scott and Stiles after the accident, that I needed them to help me mourn. And I wasn't there for them when they needed me! So don't act like your the victim here!" She was breathing heavily by the end of her statement, but she didn't care. "Now, I am going and you're not gonna stop me."

Before Nessa could protest, Mary Anne spun on her heel and marched to the door, opening and stepping out, slamming it shut. The last thing she heard as she took off was her full name being yelled.

"Mary Anne Talia Archer!"

☾

"You okay?" Stiles asked as Mary Anne walked past him, noticing her furrowed brow, flushed cheeks, and pursed lips.

"No. I think Nessa is a sociopath," she rubbed her hand on her neck, stopping and turning around to look at Stiles who was closing the door. "She doesn't seem to care at all that people are dying. And she thinks that I shouldn't be helping you guys."

"What does Nik think?" He asked, more concerned about her werewolf brother than her human sister.

Mary Anne shrugged, "He thinks I should help. He agrees that I'm not a kid anymore and can make my own decisions."

Stiles pressed his lips together and took one long stride towards her, hands coming up to rub her bare biceps. He had a contemplative look on his face, and he seemed a bit hesitant. "Maybe Nessa is partially right," he said slowly, like he knew it would offend her. And it did.

She stepped back, his hands falling from her arms in the process, and she gave him an incredulous look. "What? You think I shouldn't help you guys?"

"If what you told me about what Nik told you about your powers, then maybe you should sit this one out."

"Why? I can help," She insisted, hurt shining in her eyes. She didn't like how he doubted her abilities, doubted her.

"Nik said your healing is slower now. What happens if Jackson seriously hurts you?" He questioned, frustration coloring his voice.

"Then I try my best to speed it up," she answered, voice raised slightly.

He groaned and rubbed at his forehead. "Mary Anne, your healing is slower than normal, and you can't fully shift. You're not even a real werewolf yet! All you can do is throw a good punch, use your claws, growl and flash your eyes."

Mary Anne's eyes widened and she stepped back, his words a verbal slap to the face, and all that pain was fully displayed on her face. She never once doubted that she could help and the most important person in her life told her differently.

He realized his mistake, his own eyes wide, and he stammered, "Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean–"

"I think you mean't exactly what you said, so save it," she snapped, expression hardening. "Let's just go get Scott."

Stiles knew better than to push her, so covering up his own sad eyes, he nodded and jerked his head to the side, mutely telling her to follow him through the house and through the garage. There, Mary Anne saw his dad getting out of his car, a solemn look on his weary face.

As Stiles came to a skidding stop at his jeep, he hastily said, "Hey. Can't talk, got to run." Then he stopped and noticed something; his gun was gone. "Hey, wait, wait, wait. What's wrong?"

Stilinski stopped and turned around, hands stuffed in his pants pockets. He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Where's your gun?" Stiles questioned, and Mary Anne already had an idea so she decided to just keep quiet. And really, all she wanted to do is just stop thinking for a while, as well.

"I left it at the station along with my badge."

"What?"

"It's all right," Stilinski waved it off, but she could sense his anguish. "You know what? We'll talk about this later."

"Dad," Stiles protested quietly.

"Don't worry about it."

"Dad!"

Stilinski sighed, "It was decided that the son of a police chief stealing police property and having a restraining order filed against him by one of the town's most respected attorneys did not reflect well on the county."

"They fired you?" Stiles asked, voice grave, his whiskey eyes glassy.

Stilinski couldn't be fired, not in her mind. He was the best at his job because he cared. But he if did, Mary Anne would still consider him the Sheriff because that was what he always was to her.

"No. Look, it's just a leave of absence. It's temporary."

"Did they say it was temporary or..."

"Actually, no. You know, it's fine. Don't worry about it. Hey. We're going to be fine."

Stiles stammered, "Dad." Stilinski turned around again, looking at his son. "I don't get it. Why - why aren't you angry with me?"

"I don't know," Stilinski replied. "Maybe I just don't want to feel any worse than I already do by having to yell at my son." He turned around and started to walk away again and Stiles didn't stop him.

"Oh, shoot," Stiles whispered.

Mary Anne, despite her anger towards him, looked up at him from his side. "It's not your fault, Stiles," she tried to convince him, knowing he was blaming himself. It was a habit they both had; blaming themselves for what went wrong around them.

Stiles sighed once more and shook his head, throwing her own words back at her, "Let's just go get Scott."

☾

The car ride was silent and filled with palpable tension, which even Scott picked up on as they got out the car after parking outside the warehouse and went to the back to grab the bags of mountain ash.

"You okay?" Scott asked his best friend as he held up the trunk.

Stiles looked at him, bag in hand. "Yeah, why?" He was obviously lying and Mary Anne knew it, but she didn't call him out on it. Her anger and hurt had lessened ever so slightly on the way there, but she couldn't forget what he had said to her. "You're not even a real werewolf yet!" She questioned it; was she a real werewolf, as she was technically only half, due to her father being one but her mother wasn't? She shook her head and pushed it aside. It wasn't the time for such trivial things.

"You just didn't say anything the whole way here," Scott shrugged.

"No, I'm fine," Stiles lied once more. "Let's grab the other bag."

"We can't," Scott reminded him. "Remember, Deaton said you have to do it alone."

"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck," Stiles decided.

Scott stepped forward suddenly and said quietly, "No. Not here, not now." He started to jog off, with Stiles calling out behind him.

"What? Scott? What am I supposed to... Plan officially sucks." He looked down at Mary Anne who was looking towards Scott. "Mary Anne?"

"I'm gonna follow him, make sure he doesn't run into trouble," she decided, and before Stiles could protest, she took off, feeling that familiar protectiveness take over her. And she had to get away from him for a while, to clear her head.

She followed Scott into the warehouse and they were instantly greeted by strobing lights, loud music, and a ton of dancing bodies. But as soon as they got in there, she lost him as he weaved his way through the throng. "Hey!" She called out, trying to follow him but people kept on bumping into her. "Why the hell am I so short?" She growled.

"If my opinion means anything," a voice from next to her spoke, and she jumped a bit, turning to see Isaac smirking down at her. "I like your size."

"Well, not everyone can be giants like you," she snapped, but there wasn't much bite. She considered being a little bit nicer to him, seeing as how he was helping them out now.

He shrugged and leaned down a bit, even though she could hear him perfectly. "Wanna hop on my back? It'll be easier to get through the crowd," he offered, and she saw that he was actually being genuinely kind. He was silent for a moment, looking into her eyes before he straightened up and shrugged again. "Fine. Have it your way, then."

As he started to walk away, Mary Anne made a quick decision and ran a bit towards him, jumping and landing on his back, her arms wrapping around his neck loosely, and he held her thighs so she wouldn't slide off. He didn't even flinch or say anything as he guided them through the crowd until they found Scott standing against one of the columns. He gave them a questioning look, and she noticed the injector in his hands but momentarily ignored it. "What are you doing?" He chuckled as Isaac clambered up to them, letting go of her legs and she slid off his back and onto her feet, moving from behind him to stand next to Scott, almost on instinct.

"You left and I hitched a ride on a giant's back," she quipped, smiling lightly at him.

He shook his head, chuckling lightly before a solemn look fell upon his face. Holding the syringe to Isaac, the tall boy understood what Scott was silently telling him. "Why me?"

"Because I got to make sure that Argent doesn't completely ruin the plan," Scott answered and went on to explain how to inject the ketamine, which was already in it. "Okay, look, you better do it intravenously which means the vein. When you find him, you pull back on this plunger right here. In the neck probably is going to be the easiest. So you find a vein, you jam it in there, and pull back on the trigger." He gave the syringe to Isaac and warned him. "Be careful."

Isaac chuckled. "Oh, I doubt it'll even slightly hurt him."

"No, I mean you," Scott corrected him. "I don't want you to get hurt."

The two shared a look and Scott slowly backed up, intent on making sure the Argents don't ruin everything. Mary Anne looked up at the tall Beta. "I'll be watching, and when you do it, I'll help haul him to wherever you plan on keeping him."

Isaac nodded and headed off to enact the plan while Mary Anne stayed near the column, leaning against it and crossing her arms over her chest. She tried her best not to think about what Stiles said earlier, about her not being a real werewolf yet. Shaking her head, she instead strained to listen for Isaac and decided to weave her way through the crowd, seeing Erica and Isaac on the ground and Jackson making his way towards the DJ, a dazed but determined look on his face. Seeing the injector on the ground, she moved to lunge for it but before she could, she stumbled a bit as a wave of pain crashed over her. It radiated throughout her entire body, a choked sound leaving her lips as she fought to keep her balance. But as soon as the pain appeared, it vanished moments later.

Shaking her head side to side, she willed the last remnants of pain away as she saw Isaac dragging an unconscious Jackson away, and dashed towards him to help carry him down a hallway, ignoring the dull pain radiating through her skull. Erica soon showed up the three werewolves found an empty extension of the warehouse and put Jackson in a crappy fold-up chair.

Mary Anne folded her arms over her chest and kept an eye on Jackson, not even moving her eyes when the door opened and her boyfriend stumbled in, holding up his hands as the two Betas made a move towards him.

"Uh, no, no, no! Just me, it's just me. Don't freak." His eyes went to Jackson as he shut the door and went to take Isaac's former spot who went over to Jackson, and his former spot just happened to be next to Mary Anne. "He okay?"

"Well, let's find out," Isaac said, flicking out his claws. He reached out to touch him when Jackson's hand shot out and caught his forearm, squeezing until his bones were cracking. Isaac fell to his knees, breathing heavily. "God."

Jackson finally released him and he returned to Mary Anne's side, holding his forearm. Her eyes roamed over him in mild concern before going back to Jackson.

"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles asked rhetorically.

"Oh, I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out," Isaac struggled to get out, voice strained from the pain from his arm.

"Yeah, well, apparently this is all we're going to get," Mary Anne sighed, the end of her sentence ending with a cough. Something seemed to lodge in her throat, and she cleared it to try to get rid of it but it didn't work. A burning sensation spread through her chest, but no one noticed her discomfort.

Stiles finished for her, "So let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."

Jackson's eyes suddenly popped open. "I'm here," he spoke, but it wasn't his voice. It was distorted and downright creepy. "I'm right here with you."

Mary Anne's eyes widened but she couldn't help her coughing, her balled up hand covering her mouth but soon, her throat started closing up and she started wheezing. Stiles turned his head towards her and his own eyes widened, attention snapping to her. "Mary Anne?" His hands shot out to take her biceps as she doubled over, face red with the effort to breathe. "What's wrong?"

She didn't know why she couldn't breathe, or why it was happening at that moment. Her eyes darkened at the edges, like tunnel vision, and all she could hear was ringing. It was like when they found Lydia or when Scott was hanging upside down from one of the Argent's traps. The words from before echoed in her head.

Zashtitete go, kakto toĭ bi vi zashtitil.

Without thinking, she shook off his hands and bolted towards the door, throwing it open and stumbling through, walking around almost blindly. Scott was in trouble and she had to find him, she had to help him. It was a Sire's duty to protect the pollá, but she had to protect him, as he would protect her. She made it all the way to a separate building and she opened the door, stumbling in. She saw Scott lying on the ground, face down, Victoria Argent standing over him. A vaporizer was on the table, emitting something that made it harder for her to breathe as soon as she got in the room. Wolfsbane.

Victoria's cold blue eyes settled on the small blonde and she smirked. "Ms. Archer, it's lovely to see you again. However, you weren't supposed to see this."

"What?" Mary Anne wheezed, falling to her knees harshly, hunching her back and placing her arms on the ground. On instinct, she used her forearms to crawl over to Scott's side. Once she got to him, she collapsed onto her front, her cheek pressed to the concrete, her face towards him. He was fully shifted, but for Mary Anne, only her eyes glowed, her fangs and claws out. "Scott," she struggled to say his name. Her clawed hand reached out to take his, and despite his weak state, he held onto her hand tightly. "Please, don't hurt him." Her chest was constricting, lungs burning and crying out for fresh air. But the wolfsbane was poisoning them, killing them.

Victoria walked around them and dropped to a crouch gracefully in front of them, hand curling around Mary Anne's ponytail and she yanked her head up, smiling sickly at the blonde's cry of pain. Her eyes blazed brightly at the eldest female Argent, lips curled to bare her fangs. If she was going to die, she wasn't going to go down without a fight. However, Victoria took one look at her eyes and gasped in delightful surprise. "A hybrid. A hybrid of a werewolf and a pollá. I've never had the chance to meet a pollá, but I've heard the rumors. Powerful, strong, and good at heart. And I've always been curious about your bond with your Sire, but to see it in person does no justice to what my mind came up with. It's amazing how strong it can be, how you can feel exactly what he feels." She let go of her head and it fell back to the ground, sweat coating her skin now. "Too bad you both have to die now."

Scott growled lowly and he lifted his head as much as he could, letting out a somewhat loud but weak roar, before falling back down. "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, looking at Mary Anne's drooping eyes.

Mary Anne couldn't say anything, but she squeezed his hand with all her might, her mind only on one thing. She was going to die with the last thing she said to Stiles be apart of an argument, an argument that was never settled. She would never see his smile again, hear his laugh, feel his hugs, kisses, hands. She would never hear his voice as he told her he loved her. And it hurt more than the wolfsbane invading her lungs and body, the guilt and sadness. He didn't mean to say those things, he was only concerned her wellbeing.

She was so distracted that a commotion near her broke her out of her trance, but she didn't have the strength to look up. Her body was too numb, too weak. Her mind was telling her to fight but her body just couldn't.

"H-help Mary Anne," she distantly heard Scott mutter to someone. Before she could try to figure out who, darkness consumed her vision.

☾

"She's going to be fine, Scott."

"How did she know where I was? Is it apart of the Sire bond?"

Two familiar voices drifted to Mary Anne's ears as she slowly regained consciousness, registering the scent of different medications and the feeling of hard metal beneath her. Her body felt heavy but she could breathe properly, something she was grateful for. The voices, she realized, belonged to Deaton and Scott. She deduced that she must've been at the animal clinic, but she couldn't remember how she and Scott got out of that wolfsbane infested room.

"Scott?" She muttered, eyes fluttering open and voice rough. Her eyes squinted at the harsh light above her, adjusting to it before turning her head to the side. Scott was sitting on another metal table next to her, Dr. Deaton standing next to him with a kind smile on his face.

"How are you feeling, Mary Anne?" Deaton prompted her, coming over to lay his palm on her forehead gently.

"Better," she muttered. "Albeit confused. How did we get here?"

"I brought you here."

Her eyes flickered past Deaton and saw Derek leaning up against the far wall, holding his arm. "You saved us?" She asked incredulously, gulping in hopes of soothing her sore throat. The Alpha nodded, his expression still blank. "Thanks."

"Just don't expect me to do it again," Derek spoke gruffly.

She couldn't help but chuckle. "You sure about that?"

"Mary Anne, please just shut up."

"Nope," she teased him, positively gleeful. "Now that I know you have a soul, I'm never gonna let you live this one down."

"Shut up before I rip your throat out, with my teeth."

Both Scott and Mary Anne burst out laughing, only succeeding in making Derek more annoyed.

"Will do, Sourwolf."

☾

What do y'all think?

Void_Stiles_is_Life xxx