It was the funeral today, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. I was trying to keep an open mind, trying to make myself feel some sort of remorse or grief, but nothing came up. I had no love for Kate, and her funeral didn't faze me as much as I thought it should. I mean, she raised me for god's sake, yet here I was not feeling a single negative thing about her funeral happening later today.

Chris and Victoria had both asked me if I was feeling alright when I'd come down from my room and I'd smiled and nodded, because in all honesty I was feeling okay. I wasn't fretting or consumed with grief or quietly missing Kate. I was fine, and I wasn't sure if that was good or not.

The other's sympathetic looks made me feel like I should feel bad though, so I decided to walk to school to escape their stares. I started walking the course I'd memorised from when Allison drove us to school. I enjoyed the fresh air walking by the forest, crunching the leaves beneath my feet. It helped lighten my mood, and just when I thought that maybe the day wouldn't be too bad, I passed the cemetery. My mood soured instantly as I looked at it, knowing I'd be there mere hours later for Kate's funeral.

I stopped walking when I recognised Isaac and his dad talking to the sheriff in the cemetery. I walked closer, curious, but I didn't want them to see me so I ducked behind a gravestone. Was this bad? Should I have been using someone's gravestone to hide behind while I spied on my friend and his father? Probably not, but oh well.

"You work for your father Isaac?" the Sheriff asked, looking up from his notepad.

Mr Lahey answered for him, arms crossed. "When he's not in school, which is where he needs to be in 20 minutes."

"Yeah, I understand that," the Sheriff said, "but I've got a missing teenage girl and our K-9 unit led us here. She's not wearing any clothes, and if she's out here tonight and the temperature really drops-"

Isaac interrupted in. "I'm sorry I- I didn't see anything."

He was slouching slightly, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. I couldn't see his face from this angle, but his voice sounded tired, and I wondered how hard Mr Lahey worked him, and how much sleep he was getting.

Mr Lahey chuckled, glancing at Isaac. "Trust me, if he saw a naked girl outside a computer screen he'd remember."

Isaac looked uncomfortable, eyes downcast as he let his father make disgusting jokes about him. The sheriff stared at Mr Lahey, unamused, before moving his gaze to Isaac.

"How'd you get that black eye Isaac?" he asked

Mr Lahey's head turned to his son, and I craned my neck for a glimpse of said black eye but couldn't manage to see at that angle. I was surprised though; when had he gotton a black eye? It must have been after he left on Sunday, because he hadn't had one when we were hanging out.

"School," Isaac answered shortly

Noah raised an eyebrow. "School fight?"

Isaac shook his head slightly. "Nah, lacrosse."

I stared at the back of Isaac's head, feeling sick. Why did he lie? I knew he was lying, because I saw him Sunday and he didn't have lacrosse then, but why lie? What was he trying to hide? I just didn't understand it.

"Lacrosse?" Sheriff asked. "You play for Beacon Hills?" Isaac nodded. "My son plays for the team. Well I mean he's on the team, he doesn't technically play..."

I saw Isaac stare at something behind the Sheriff, looking uneasy, and followed his gaze but found nothing there except trees. The Sheriff, also noticing Isaac's focus being elsewhere, looked behind him but found nothing. What had Isaac been looking at?

"Something wrong Isaac?" Sheriff asked.

Isaac tore his gaze away from the woods, stammering, "Oh, no, no, sorry. I was just remembering I have a morning practise to get to."

The Sheriff nodded and flipped over a page on his notepad. "Alright, just one more question. Do you guys get many grave robberies here?"

Isaac shrugged, looking down at the empty grave in front of them. "A few. Usually, they just take stuff like jewellery."

"What'd this one take?"

Isaac looked up at the Sheriff. "Her liver."

I shuddered. Yuck.

The Sheriff moved away from Isaac and his father, the latter telling Isaac to walk to school before trudging back to his car. I realised too late that Isaac was walking this way and stayed rooted to the spot, hoping he wouldn't see me. Unfortunately things did not go as planned.

"Y/n?"

I looked up, finding Isaac staring at me strangely. I could see his bruise better, a dark circle around his eye that looked like it hurt. I gave him a sheepish smile.

"Oh, hey Isaac. Funny seeing you here. What are the odds?"

Isaac frowned. "What are you doing here?

"Oh, um, just... visiting someone," I lied.

Isaac leaned back so he could see the name on the gravestone I'd be hiding behind. "You knew Finley Wattle who died in... 1963?"

I opened my mouth but nothing came out, so I just stood there like an idiot, gaping at Isaac while he waited patiently for a response. When I didn't say anything he laughed, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"What are you really doing here?" he asked.

I sighed. "I saw you here with the Sheriff and was curious so I spied on you."

Isaac raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit stalkerish."

I scowled, getting up off the floor and wiping the grass of my knees. "No its not. I was walking to school and I saw you but you were busy so I waited for you here."

"While spying on me," he finished.

I grimaced. "...yeah."

We started walking away from the cemetery to school, and I looked at him, my attention being drawn back to his black eye.

"How'd you get the bruise?"

Isaac opened his mouth, about to say something when he stopped, no doubt realising he couldn't use the same excuse he'd used for the Sheriff.

"I fell while walking home," he said lamely, looking at his feet as we walked.

I raised my eyebrows, unconvinced. "Really?"

"Can we just forget about it?" he mumbled.

I wanted to know more, to push him to tell me the truth, but I respected his wishes and nodded, biting my tongue to avoid asking more questions about it. Isaac looked at me gratefully before back at the ground.

There were a few minutes of silence between us before I spoke. "So, why was the Sheriff there?"

Isaac looked relieved that we were talking about something other than his bruise and explained that there had been a grave robbery last night, with someone stealing a dead girl's liver. I gaged at his story. Who would steal a half-rotted liver?

"I never knew you worked in a cemetery at night," I said. "How do you manage to watch horror movies?"

Isaac laughed and I smiled, enjoying the sound. We continued talking about how creepy Isaac's job was until we arrived at school. There was an onslaught of whispers as I entered, and I knew it was about Kate and her funeral today.

"Her mum's a psycho."

"She's not even her real mum though, she was just raised by her."

"Even worse."

Isaac looked at me. "The funerals today, isn't it?"

I nodded and Isaac lifted his arm, very awkwardly patting me on the shoulder. I laughed, trying not to show how much I enjoyed his hand on me, and he looked down, embarrassed, but he had a smile on his face.

We got to my locker and I was getting my stuff when I felt eyes on me. I looked around and noticed majority of the students staring at me, making me feel uncomfortable. I rushed to get all my stuff so I'd be able to leave to go somewhere more private, when Isaac suddenly bid me goodbye.

"I've got a team meeting for lacrosse," he said, "but I'll meet you in Chemistry."

I distractedly nodded my head, my attention on the people still staring at me as I closed my locker with a bang. I walked through the halls, trying to avoid as many people as possible, when I found Allison at her locker. She looked down as she got her stuff from her locker so I went over.

"You feeling okay?" I asked.

Allison shrugged. "The funerals today, which sucks, plus my best friend is missing so..."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Who is this?"

Allison gave a half hearted laugh. "Sorry, I forgot you haven't met her yet. Her name's Lydia and she had an accident recently that put her in the hospital, but now she's just gone. No one knows where she is."

I remembered the Sheriff talking about the naked missing girl and realised Lydia must have been who he was talking about.

"That sucks. I'm sorry," I said.

Allison shrugged, just as the bell rang, so we made our way to Chemistry. I found Isaac sitting near the back and started to go over when Mr Harris called for our attention, every student's eyes going to him.

"Pop quiz today," he stated. "Which means assigned seating."

The class let out a collective groan as Mr Harris assigned us all to random seats. I sat next to the boy with the buzzcut, Stiles, if I recalled correctly. We were given out sheets and I started working as soon as Mr Harris said we could, but I couldn't help but get distracted by Stiles hushed conversation with Scott, who was sitting in front of us.

"Alright it's causing me severe mental anguish to say this, but he's right," Stiles said, leaning forward to whisper in Scott's ear. Fortunately for me, Stiles didn't seem to know how to whisper quietly, and I could hear their conversation perfectly.

"I know," Scott said dejectedly from the seat in front of us.

"What if the next body part she steals is from somebody whose still alive?" Stiles asked in a harried whisper.

I looked up from my test in alarm at his words. What did he mean? Was he talking about the liver stolen from the cemetery? In that case, who was she? Did they have information on the case? Had they shared it with the Sheriff?

"This is a pop quiz Mr Stilinski," Mr Harris drawled from his desk. "If I hear your voice again, I may be tempted to give you detention for the rest of your high school career."

Stiles stared at Mr Harris in shock. "Can you do that?"

"Well there it is again," Mr Harris continued. "Your voice, triggering the only impulse I've ever had to strike a student repeatedly and violently. I'll see you at three for detention."

Scott looked back at Stiles apologetically while Stiles had a look of outrage on his face, jaw agape in pure disbelief.

"You too Mr McCall?" Mr Harris asked.

Scott turned around to look at his quiz, mumbling a 'no sir' before scribbling something down. I looked at the two boys, my mind still firmly on their conversation where they talked about someone stealing a liver. Eventually, I just decided to hope they were talking about a video game or movie and focused back on my work.

I was interrupted again by Jackson standing up from his seat, clutching his nose as he stated he had a nosebleed. Mr Harris let him pass without so much as a glance and I narrowed my eyes at him. I really didn't like this teacher.

When the class finally ended, I met up with Isaac outside of the classroom and we started walking together to our next class.

"How'd you do?" I asked.

Isaac winced. "Hopefully okay, but you should know by now how dreadful I am at Chemistry."

I nudged my shoulder and his. "You're not that bad."

Isaac rolled his eyes but the ghost of a smile played at his lips, so I considered it a win. When we arrived at Math, we took seats next to each other, thankfully having no assigned seating this lesson. The class went by in a blur, my mind preoccupied with the funeral this afternoon.

After class, there were the whispers and stares I'd received all morning, making me feel even worse. Isaac and I went to the cafeteria and I winced as the girls behind me had a not so whispered conversation about Kate.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Isaac asked as we sat down at our usual table.

I shrugged. "Kate wasn't a good parent. She cared about my achievements, but that's about it. She certainly cared about them more than my own feelings."

Isaac smiled sadly. "I understand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked hopefully. Maybe he'd finally open up to me about the situation with his dad, and possibly where he got his bruise from.

Isaac opened his mouth but stopped at the last minute, before closing it and shaking his head. I tried not to feel disappointed as I nodded my head, respecting his choice even though I was desperate to know the truth.

We talked about other, lighter stuff until the bell rang, though I was still only half there as I got out my books for the next class, thinking about Kate. I should feel something, right? I mean she did raise me, and there were moments where it had seemed she actually cared about me. I just wished those moments had been more often and lasted for longer. I wished things could be different, but they weren't, and that was why I didn't know how to feel, because in another world I would be upset. I'd be distraught that Kate died, the woman who took me in and raised me as her own, but that's not the Kate I got, and I can't change anything about that.

Isaac and I had just arrived at our class when Isaac looked down at my books. "Uh, Y/n, those are your Math books. We've got English."

I looked down and cursed when I realised he was right. "I've got to go back and get my other books."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

I was already halfway down the hall when I answered. "No, it's fine!"

I went as fast as I could, swapping my math books for English before racing back down the corridors to my class, but even then I was more than five minutes late. My teacher gave me a stern look and wrote a detention slip, almost as harsh as Mr Harris.

I sighed and sat down next to Isaac, feeling so tired after today. Isaac lightly pressed his knee against mine and gave me a smile, one I felt in my stomach as the butterflies fluttered and my heart thudded.

When the bell rang I was up and out of my seat, heading to my locker before most had even exited the classroom. I packed all my stuff away and got out my backpack, slamming my locker and about to head to detention when Isaac intercepted me.

"Good luck at the funeral," he said, running a hand through his curls.

I tried to focus on his words and not the way that action made my heart stutter, but I failed. "Oh, uh, thanks, yeah."

Isaac's lips quirked up playfully, but he didn't say anything about my distracted response, instead putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it lightly. The action was significantly less awkward than the shoulder patting he'd given me earlier today.

"You can call me afterwards if you want."

I smiled. "Thanks. I probably will."

We bid each other goodbye, and I continued my walk to detention only to be interrupted again, this time by Scott, who also came to wish me good luck.

"And you can call me too if you'd like, but I doubt you want to," Scott joked.

I frowned, confused. Had he overheard my conversation with Isaac? But we'd been ages away when we'd had it, and Scott had only appeared just now. It was like he had super hearing. I felt my whole body stiffen as a theory entered my mind, and before I could talk myself out of it I used the spell to sense if someone was a werewolf.

It's safe to say the spell worked.

Alarm bells were going off in my mind, urging me to turn around and run as fast as I could in the opposite direction. I didn't want him to know that I knew though, so I nodded and smiled politely before walking away as fast as I could without being considered as running.

When I got to detention, Mr Harris was sitting at his desk and Stiles was the only other one there. I immediately used my spell on him, but he came up as just an average human. I sat next to him, wondering if he knew that his best friend was a werewolf. Did Allison know?

Stiles looked at me in confusion and it was only then that I realised I'd been staring at him. I quickly averted my gaze to my desk, fidgeting with my hands. I wanted to know if he knew about Scott, but I didn't know how to bring it up without sounding like a madman.

Eventually I landed on, "full moon coming up soon."

Stiles' head shot sideways to stare at me as his eyes widened. Suspicion was written all across his face as he peered at me, and I smiled daintily at him, faking innocence.

"Yeah, better make sure there aren't any werewolves running about," he joked. I turned on him.

"You know!" I hissed

Stiles pointed at me. "You know!"

We both stared at each other for a beat, sizing one another up before Stiles spoke, breaking the silence. "How do you know?

"How do you know?" I retorted

Stiles glared at me but said nothing, no doubt not wanting to incriminate his friend. I decided to help him there.

"You know because Scott told you, didn't he? Because he's a werewolf."

Stiles gaped at me. "How do you know that? Are you one too?"

I scoffed. "What? No! And it's none of your business how I know!"

His eyes narrowed as he stared at me up and down, as if trying to get me to reveal my secrets with his eyes alone. "Allison told you didn't she?"

"Allison knows?!"

Stiles' eyes widened as he realised his mistake. "...no?"

We glared at each other in silence for the rest of detention, throwing distrustful looks at one another. I didn't understand how he could be okay with being friends with a werewolf, when Kate had told me all the horrible things they had done. Then again, the werewolf was Scott. He didn't seem that scary or threatening.

When my detention ended, I still had some time before the funeral so I got changed in the bathrooms before walking outside and waiting for Chris to pick me up. When I saw his car I gave him a little wave and got into the back seat, next to Allison.

I glanced at her, thinking about how she knew about werewolves. That she knew her boyfriend was one and didn't care. I wondered how it didn't faze her.

"Sorry for being late," I apologised when I'd closed the car door. "I had detention."

Chris shook his head. "It's fine, really."

I stayed quiet for the rest of the car ride, lost in thought, until we arrived at the cemetery. All four of us got out of the car and walked into the onslaught of reports, keeping our heads down. There were quite a few people who singled me out directly, asking what it was like to be raised by Kate, but I ignored them all, following closely behind Allison.

I managed to get inside the cemetery without damage, where there were a few police officers scattered across the boundaries, stopping anyone from getting a closer look at us. I felt sick as I looked at the crowd of people. This family was grieving, at their lost one's funeral, and they had the gall to show up, take pictures, and demand information from them? Disgusting.

"I knew this was a bad idea," Chris muttered as we walked towards there the funeral was going to be held. It was nothing much; a few chairs set out with an empty grave in front of it, Kate's coffin resting neatly next to it with flowers atop.

"Well it wasn't my idea," Victoria reminded him.

Chris sighed. "I tried telling him, but he insisted on making a point of it."

Victoria cast a wary glance behind her at the many reporters grouped behind the fence. "If he insisted then he can do this when he gets here."

"When who gets here?" Allison asked, voicing my own thoughts.

Victoria stared at us for a second. "Just, sit down girls."

We obeyed her, choosing two seats in the front row as we waited for the funeral to start. There was a commotion near the reporters and we both leaned forward to find an old man walking forwards. He was balding, with a ring of white hair on the side of his face and dark brown eyes on the verge of black.

I recognised him.

It had been a few years ago, on a stormy night when I was no older than twelve, reading a book on the couch when there was a knock on the door. Kate, cautious as ever, gestured for me to stay where I was as she walked towards the door, her hand in her jacket where I knew a gun lay. I didn't blame her for her apprehension; it was very late, and we didn't get many guests at all, let alone at one in the morning.

There seemed to be no reason to worry though, because as soon as Kate opened the door she's sighed and took her hand away from her jacket, instead crossing them across her chest as she stared at the mysterious knocker.

"What are you doing here?" she'd asked.

The knocker, a man by the sounds of it, answered her in an amused voice. "Just coming to visit."

Kate glanced at me before sighing, opening the door to let the man in. When I'd seen him I shrunk, feeling uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his dark, dark eyes.

"And who is this?" he asked.

Kate moved to stand in front of me. "None of your business. Go upstairs Y/n."

I didn't want to go, but I knew better than to disobey Kate so I listened to her orders, hurrying upstairs before planting myself at the top step and listening in. I didn't catch much of their conversation, but I heard yelling, and eventually footsteps going to the door. I crept closer, eager to hear anything of interest, when I heard the man's voice.

"Don't worry Kate," he had said. "I'll keep your secret."

I watched in present day time as the man greeted Chris with a hug and Christopher referred to him as Gerard. So that was his name. He moved to wrap Victoria in a quick hug before his gaze landed on Allison.

"Do you remember me?" he asked her. She nodded her head slightly. "Considering I haven't seen you since you were three, I don't suppose I can assume you'd call me grandpa." Allison gave him a tight smile. "So if it's comfortable call me Gerard for the time being, but I'd prefer grandpa."

He gave her one last smile before his focus landed on me, his eyes alight and a smirk on his face. "Do you remember me?"

I nodded my head, clearing my throat that had suddenly become dry. "Yes."

His smirk widened. "Good."

The other Argents looked confused but didn't say anything as they all sat down and the funeral started. It went by quick, my mind so caught up on Gerard and how I'd gotton the feeling he'd known something that I barely paid attention until I was asked to say something.

I froze, because I hadn't planned on saying anything, but stood up anyway. I managed to bullshit my way through it, saying the things everyone did at funerals before hastily sitting back down. Most of it had been a lie, but not all of it.

After that the funeral came to a close and I was grateful when we entered the car to go home. The day had been draining and I was ready for a good, long nap. I skipped dinner and went to my room, crawling under my covers as I waited for sleep to take me.

It refused though, and I stayed awake, lying on my bed and looking at my bedroom ceiling as my mind spun with everything that had happened today. I tried to do some deep breathing exercises Kate taught me, and just as I started feeling drowsy I had a vision.

It was dark, and trees were all I could see for miles. There was a creek nearby, but it was shallow, the water trickling by. The picture in front of me was a disturbing one. Gerard, holding a sword that was dripping crimson blood, his face one of triumph as he stared ahead, and there I saw it. A werewolf, his hands tied up hanging from a rope, with only his upper waist intact. The bottom half was lying on the floor, a pool of blood beneath it.

"We kill them," Gerard said, raising his sword. "We kill them all."

I gasped as I was brought back to my body, sitting upright in my darkened room. I took a few moments to adjust, hand on my hammering chest, as I thought about what I saw. Gerard was a werewolf hunter, and that man had been a werewolf. Gerard had killed the werewolf. I felt my body go numb when the realisation of what happened dawned on me.

They declared war.