I WAS SURPRISED TO SEE MALIA AT THE LOFT WAITING FOR US. I wasn't quite sure how she knew where we were, or even where the loft was but my confusion was put to ease quickly when she informed me that there had been a new group chat set up last month without me in it—without Issac in it, Allison... Aiden....

Her tone of voice was ever so blunt, reminding me that she had absolutely no filter whatsoever but she didn't stop there, instead she continued to say that I wasn't added back then because apparently the mention of my name had made Stiles angry and no one knew if I was ever coming back.

While she said it with no remorse, I appreciated the fact that she'd said it nonetheless because I knew none of my other friends would've told me. It did, however, really rile me up and when I glared at Scott so heatedly he merely forced a sheepish—apologetic—smile to his face.

I punched his arm so hard he groaned in pain, raising his hand to the effected area to nurse it while giving me a side-eye.

I didn't care to comment on Malia's truth. If she could read even the smallest of chemo-signals, or even just general feelings, and I think she could, she'd understand just how angry I was. I don't know why I'd been so naive in accepting that Stiles was fine after I'd disappeared on him. Of course he would've been furious. I should've known that something else had gone on while I wasn't here.

I was no longer looking forward to the conversation we were set to have after we helped Derek. What would've been a probably calm yet no doubt awkward conversation was now going to be exceptionally heated and loud.

I was so sick and tired of my friends deciding to keep me out of the loop and while I appreciated that I had made the decision to leave on a whim it didn't excuse the lies they bred to me before hand. How could I ever trust them if this was what was going on behind closed doors? How did I know they weren't keeping secrets from me now? 

The three of us reached the door to the loft and I pulled the hatch up wordlessly and pushed the door open to the side, listening as it rolled. I was hit in the face with nostalgia, memories of that day Derek was taken flying off in my brain. I'd relived them over and over again until I believed them to be purely fabricated. I ran through the words I heard on repeat until it had reached a point where I wasn't sure if I had heard them words or not. Everything I thought had happened was all it was...a thought—I couldn't be sure anymore I'd relived it so much.

"What's wrong with you?" Malia said bluntly as the three of us walked into the loft, there was hardly any lights on and darkness surrounded the large space.

As I looked around I noticed the place was pretty much untouched, nothing had been moved since I'd left in such a hurry. There was still my favourite pair of black doc martens sitting on the table from when I'd forgotten to pick them up in my rush to leave.

I glanced sideways at Malia but she was looking at Scott.

"Nothing." My friend said but there was something off about his tone.

"Your heart's pounding like crazy." Malia noted and as I focused my hearing to listen I realised she was right. Scott's heart was beating ten to the dozen, "Are you nervous?"

I was actually curious to hear what his response would be but unfortunately I didn't get to hear it as the voice of my loving father echoed through the room, "He's just bad at introductions."

The three of us turned to see Peter sitting on the sofa with his legs kicked up and reading a book. I arched brow watching him.

"Peter..." Scott said in slight surprise, "This is Malia."

Peter closed his book and set it aside unusually gently before he stood up, looking solely at Malia, "Beautiful eyes." He observed, "Did you get them from your father?"

In a weirded out tone, Malia replied, "Mother."

"Interesting." He responded.

"You're freaking her out," I said to him, "and me."

Peter met my gaze and merely rolled his eyes before he pushed on, "Anyway, I'm sure they've told you a lot about me."

"The homicidal killing spree came up." Malia responded.

"Well, we're all works in progress." Was his response.

"Well, when you progress to your next killing spree, why don't you try and make sure they all stay dead? Hmm?" I said to him, handing him a glare.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Peter asked me.

"It means you're shit at your job." I fired back sharply, "And I really want to hurt you right now."

Peter sighed and said, "Well if you could please refrain—"

He was interrupted by Scott as he spoke over him and asked, "What do you know about people being turned by a scratch?"

"Did you scratch someone, Scott?" Peter asked him in surprise before saying, "Don't worry about it, the claws have to go pretty deep."

"But it's possible?" Scott pried, "Like if you clawed out someone's throat?"

Peter walked over to the table and he leaned against it, his hand right next to my prized doc martens as he said, "Well, yeah, it's possible. It's also beyond rare. We're talking one in a...." He stilled, face dropping deeply before he eyes fell hard and he muttered, "Million."

"One in a million." I repeated, my tone hot and snappy, "One in a million, Peter, and you couldn't even get that right!"

He merely glanced at me in annoyance before he groaned, hands to his head, "Can't someone in this town stay dead?"

"Funny, I was hoping you would after we burned you alive and Derek slashed your throat!" I snapped, "You had one job, Peter!"

He ignored my insults and instead turned to me and said, "But where would you be without me? If I had died."

"I'd be right here!" I yelled in exasperation, "I'd be fine!"

He shook his head, "You'd have lost all of your parents."

"Oh, my, god." I whispered disbelief, "This is what you want to talk about? You've never been a dad to me, Peter! Maybe when I was younger, yeah, but now?"

Peter didn't say anything and the tension around us had tripled in seconds, it was palpable. There was a small portion of remorse trickling into my consciousness and tainting it yet I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge it. My feelings towards Peter were mixed—as was my opinion of him. He had done awful things but to awful people and aside from using Lydia to resurrect himself he hadn't been too bad since he had risen from the dead. That was my experience however—me being his only and long-lost daughter whom he cared for like an actual daughter.

My opinion was biased, it always would be with the past that Peter and I had shared.

With the time that Peter and I spent staring at one another, unsure of what to say next, Scott took the opportunity to swiftly try and change the subject.

When he released a soft sigh, I hoped he would divert Peter's attention, "Do you have any idea why Kate would turn Derek into a teenager again?" He asked.

Peter arched his brow, seemingly struck by a lightbulb, "What color were his eyes?"

"Blue." I sighed, dragging my hands through my hair.

"After Paige." Peter nodded, "Which could mean around the time he first met Kate."

I recoiled in shock. Surely my ears were deceiving me. He can't of said that it was around the time Derek met Kate. Derek can't of—no, surely not.

"I'm sorry," I backtracked, my brows almost touching I had frowned so deeply, "Did you just say 'around the time he first met Kate' as in they knew each other previously?"

"That's what I said." He nodded.

In the same disbelief as me, Scott also recoiled, "Derek and Kate knew each other?"

Peter turned to us with an almost smug smirk and he nodded, "Biblically," He said and I shuddered, turning to walk away.

"Ew, oh, god." I whispered to myself.

"That's right, Scott," Peter continued, "You weren't the first wolf to climb into a hunter's bed."

"Oh, my, god!" I yelled in a mixture disbelief and disgust, "Stop it now."

Peter shrugged but he seemed more amused than anything else. It was like he enjoyed ruining our lives and perceptions of others. I could've lived my entire life—in fact I would've preferred to live my entire life—not knowing that my cousin, Derek Hale, had jumped into bed with the psychopath that was Kate fucking Argent. My cousin Derek who despised Kate almost just as much as myself.

"What do we know?" Peter asked us, glanced at the three of us as he walked round the table, "Aside from the obvious that Derek is a teenager again?"

"He went back to the house," I told him, "The Hale house."

Peter nodded and if the mention of The Hale house phased him he didn't let it show.

"Okay," He said, "Derek went to the site of the house thinking it was still there, right?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded, "But he doesn't remember the fire."

Peter paced before the floor to ceiling windows as I leaned forward on the table, my arms resting against the metal as I watched him move. I studied the glimmer of perplexion in his eyes—of how it twisted his face as he searched his brain for a reasoning to all of this mess.

"But if he doesn't remember the fire, then he doesn't remember that it was Kate that set it."

"So what does that mean?" Malia asked him.

"Kate didn't just take him back to being a teenager—" He stopped, face dawning in realisation as he turned to us, "She took him back to the age where he still knew her...When he still trusted her."

I looked at Scott, eyes firm as I ordered, "Call Stiles."

Scott scrambled for his phone, retrieving it from his pocket and hurrying to call Stiles. This time it was my turn to pace and I pushed off the table and wrapped my hand around the back of my neck, listening to the call tried to connect. I counted the rings, my heart lurching with each one.

What was Stiles doing that made him too busy to answer the phone?

The thought that Kate had taken Derek back to a time where he knew and trusted her did not bode well with me. None of this bode well with me but this in particular was something I did not like.

"Why would she do this?" I wondered aloud, my eyes glancing fleetingly over to Peter.

"There's obviously something she needs from him." He replied, "And she must be certain he can help her otherwise she wouldn't of taken him."

My brows furrowed as I stared at the floor, the gears in my brain turning, "But what is it? What could she possibly need?"

If anyone was to reply, they were interrupted by Stiles' confused voice echoing through the space. Scott put his phone on speaker for us to hear the conversation but I didn't stop pacing. My finger tapped my lip in thought.

"Hey, that's funny I was just about to call you."

"Are you with Derek?" Scott asked Stiles with urgency and his question made me stop in my tracks.

Malia noticed my sudden halt in movement and she glanced over at me while my brows knitted together.

If Stiles was with Derek and Kate was coming for him Stiles was in danger.

I ran my hands over my face and my heart pounded in my chest. I hadn't missed this feeling. I hadn't had a break. This has been constant since summer. It had been four months. I was exhausted.

"No, he's in your bedroom." Stiles responded nonchalantly, almost annoyed in a sense, "You didn't tell me your dad was as here, man. I had to tell him Derek was my cousin from Mexico." He said, the last sentence quieter to ensure Scott's dad didn't hear him, "He's getting pretty annoyed though, demanding to talk to Alex but he still thinks she's Carmen so that's awkward."

Peter's eyes fell on me then and I met them briefly before I began my pacing again. He studied me, no doubt comparing me to my mother to examine the similarities and differences between us. I hadn't seen any pictures of my mom when she was my age but the ones I had seen of her I didn't think we looked that alike. Saying that, it had been years since I'd actually seen a physical photograph of my mother and even I had aged since then. Perhaps I did look like her.

"We think Kate is after him." Scott responded, the same urgency to his tone, "But we're not sure what for yet. We haven't worked it out."

"Well, like I said, he's in your bedroom, he'll be totally fine." Stiles responded and his tone remained unchanged, "To be honest, I'm starting to miss the old Derek. So, if you actually think that Kate's coming to find him..."

Silence...

I stopped pacing and I stared at the phone on the table before I met Scott's gaze through wide eyes. I couldn't breathe. All I could feel was my heart slamming against my chest and the bottomless pit of dread that had opened up in my stomach.

I was about to call his name when he broke the silence by saying, "You might be right... Derek's gone. Kate just jumped out your bedroom window."

I hit the table in frustration, "Shit!"

Scott looked between us with wide eyes, "What do we do now?"

"We have to find them." I responded.

Scott sighed and he looked to his phone, "Stiles we gotta go, I'll call you later."

"Yeah, okay." He responded, "I'll start driving round, see if I can find him."

"Stay at Scott's." I found myself blurting before I could stop myself. My three companions all looked at me and the seconds began to tick since I spoke. I needed to elaborate but I couldn't. I was still shocked by my own outburst.

"It's Kate." I found myself resonating after a lengthy silence, "And she's a sociopath even as a human. Stay at Scott's where you're safe Stiles."

It sounded like an order but I could hear the plea of my tone. I could feel it in my body. I wouldn't be able to concentrate on finding Derek if I knew Stiles was driving around looking for them. I would be worrying about what would happen if he found them before we did.

"Okay." He said after some silence. His tone was uncertain at first although I found myself signing in relief. He repeated, "Okay, I'll wait here."

Scott nodded even though Stiles couldn't see him, "We'll call you if we find him."

Stiles didn't have the opportunity to respond as Scott ended the call and the second he did, Peter, Malia and I were running towards the door of the loft. I was heading the group, already at the top of the stairs with my hand reaching for the latch when Scott shouted out.

"Wait!"

The three of us froze and turned back only to find Scott hadn't moved a muscle. He stood in the same position, brows knitted together tightly.

"For what?" Peter asked him, "Kate's out there twisting her way into Derek's head yet again. We need to find her."

"All we need's a scent." Malia responded.

"That could take hours." Scott responded, walking to us calmly, "If we want to get ahead of her, we need to figure out where she's going."

"Not to underestimate my own cognitive faculties, but we're not exactly a brain trust of geniuses here." Peter said.

"Then maybe we should call one."

I wanted to interrupt and say that we truly didn't have time for this and that tracking Derek by scent was our best option but I held my tongue as Scott called Lydia. I didn't however expect my friend to answer the phone and inform us that she and Kira were at a gas station on the outskirts of town having discovered the body of the attendant in the restroom.

It threw a spanner in the works, that was for sure and I exchanged fleeting glances with Scott throughout her explanation of what had happened. There was no way we could ask her to try and figure out our problems now.

"We called Stilinski." Lydia told us, "They're on their way."

"What does it look like?" Scott asked her, his phone on speaker as the four of us stood in a circle, "Can you send pictures?"

"Uh, okay."

Her uncertainty was clear, as was her disgust and I heard her clearing her throat

"To be honest, I have a 4.0 in AP Biology and there are parts of the human anatomy I have never seen before on these walls."

"Delightful." I mumbled. As curious as I was, I didn't particularly want to see the remains of a poor gas station attendant tonight.

There was silence on the other end of the line and we waited patiently for Lydia. Scott's phone buzzed with a notification eventually, the screen lighting up and displaying the photo she had taken and sent. The four of us leaned in to look but we were quick to look away. It was as horrific and gut twisting as I expected it to be.

"Why would she want to kill a gas station attendant?" Malia asked.

"I don't think she could help it." Peter said, "This was done in a frenzy. It's not a murder. It's a symptom."

"Of what?"

"She can't control the shift."

"Derek said he had the same issue on the full moon. That he was still learning." Scott said.

I furrowed my brows, "Kate's still learning?"

"She wants to learn."

"So she wants Derek to teach her?" Malia posed.

"No." Peter said as we all looked at him, "She wants the Triskelion."

I recoiled in quick realisation and shook my head, "I have the Triskelion."

Furrowed eyes looked at me but only Peter nodded in remembrance.

"How do you have the Triskelion?" Scott asked me.

"Derek brought me it the night of my shift full moon." I responded, "And unless someone's moved it it's upstairs in Isaac's old room."

"You have the Triskelion." Peter nodded though it seemed he was deep in thought.

"Where was the Triskelion?" Scott asked curiously, "Before? Where did you keep it..because Derek doesn't know this place exists."

"We have a vault." Peter explained, "Centuries old. It's underneath the school."

"So that's where they are." I said quickly, "That's where Derek thinks it is, that's where she's taken him."

"Okay." Peter nodded as his eyes fell upon mine, "Check you still have the Triskelion. Make sure Derek didn't return it to the vault."

I nodded firmly and I ran up the spiralled staircase to the second floor and into Isaac's old bedroom. It was how I had left it the day I left, clothes strewn everywhere looking like a bomb had gone off and I ran over to the set of dark drawers positioned along the wall. Derek's instruction to hide it was clear as day in my mind, his words echoing and I crouched down while pulling the bottom drawer out before picking up all the clothes inside and dumping them on the ground beside me in a frenzy.

I reached for the fake wooden insert at the bottom and pulled it back to reveal the real wooden insert and more importantly, the Triskelion.

______________________

The drive to the school was fast—much like every other journey we ever made. The severity of the situation weighed down on us, as did the notion of catching Kate and finding Derek. I still wasn't sure what I'd do when I saw her. As much as I wanted to tear her throat out myself I had a strong feeling I'd freeze the second my eyes fell on her. I was trying not to think about it...about her, and keep my focus on finding Derek so we could help him but it was hard, especially when I knew of the chances of her being here.

The four of us ran up the stairs to the school at a fast pace and I glanced up at the building in disdain. Nostalgia wiped over me and I realised the last time I had been here was when Aiden died in my arms. It was like a punch to the gut and the air stormed out of my lungs at the sudden realisation. I brought myself to slow down somewhat but next to me, Malia stopped entirely and she looked around the darkness.

Scott and Peter stopped ahead, the both of them turning and looking at the both of us, "Did you catch a scent?" Scott asked us.

Though it was Malia who nodded and said, "It's the same one. The same one as Mexico."

"What is she talking about?" Peter frowned.

I inhaled deeply through my nose as the wind blew passed me and I also caught a familiar scent. It wasn't Derek's, rather that of whatever had been hunting us down in the church.

"One of them came after us in the Church ruins." Scott said.

"And one on the road." She responded, "They couldn't have followed us here."

"But they could've been brought, by Kate."

As if on queue, a low rattling growl echoed around us sending shivers down my spine. I searched the darkness around us.

"Oh, I've heard that sound before." Peter sighed deeply in disdain, "Did it have an animal skull? A human wearing a skull over its face?"

"I think so."

"What are they?" Scott asked.

The growling followed again though this time it was closer than before. I stood at alert, and when my eyes swept round the school again I saw something large and well built emerging from the shadows under the tunnel.

It moved slowly, the leaves swiping at its feet as it's heavy footsteps thudded. It was how Peter had described it to be and in the darkness it could've fooled me to be human. It wore some kind of armour around its shoulders, I could make out that much in the shadows and whatever claws it had were long.

"What the fuck is that?"

Fear gripped me in a way it never had before. Each supernatural creature I had encountered since starting on this wild journey had enticed some form of fear within me. This thing...it's anatomy was threatening in itself. Even from several hundred feet away it appeared to be over six foot tall and built like something I had never seen before.

"Berserkers."

They were one I had not yet heard of. I was beginning to think I needed to find that book I first read when Stiles and I thought Scott was a werewolf and make some comparisons. That book had warned me of the Kanima—perhaps there was mention of the Oni and the Nogitsune in there, too. I knew there'd be a full page on were-jaguars, no doubt.

It seemed my education wasn't just failing in the school department but rather the supernatural department, also.

To my side, Malia growled in response and I noticed as she edged forward to run. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back as the creature squared off with us at the bottom of the stairs.

"Are you crazy?"

"There's just one of them." She defended.

"And that means we have a chance." Peter said.

"To beat him?"

"To survive."

And when I turned I saw that he was already at the top of the stairs, running for what appeared to be his life. It unnerved me deeply and I wasted no time in following suit, taking the steps three at a time.

If Peter didn't think the four of us—a true Alpha included—couldn't survive a fight with one of these things I feared for what was to come. I ran for my life, sprinting through the grounds of the school with no clear indication of where to go. I had lost Peter but the drum of heavy footsteps and rattling of bones behind me pushed me to keep moving.

I ran until I saw a second Berserker standing a hundred meters in front of us and I skidded to a stop, my arms outstretching to catch Scott and Malia behind me. I slowly backed up, Scott and Malia moving also but I didn't dare take my eyes of the creature in front of me. I knew the second I turned my back on it, I was as good as dead.

It followed us, stalking forward in a menacing way and we reached the stairs, my hand grasping the railing as a second berserker appeared from behind the pillar. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest rapidly—both fear and adrenaline pumping through my body at an alarmingly fast rate.

"It's both of them. They're both here." Malia said.

"Where the hell's Peter?"

Through heavy breaths I responded, "He disappeared!"

I decided to turn and make a run for it. Scott and Malia were in front of me as we ran up the stairs like our lives depended on it. I took three at a time, gripping to the hand rail but when I saw a third Berserker hop over the railing and on to the stairs in front of us my heart dropped into my chest. We came to a hurdling stop, surrounded on the staircase by three creatures double our size. I swallowed thickly, looking at the two in front of me and Scott stepped down to the same level as me.

We met each others gaze fleetingly before I said, "Let's just try to not die, okay?"

"Right." Malia responded from behind us.

I grasped the hand railing next to me as Scott jumped up and hopped off the wall and I kicked up, my feet slamming into the chest of the berserker. The impact barely made a difference as it stumbled back a single step and Scott landed behind it, now transitioned. He stood up, swiping at the chest of the creature with its claws but it barely moved.

Scott growled loudly but my attention was ripped away from him when I heard Malia slam into the gate behind me with a painful groan. I jumped up the last few steps as the berserker stalked her down while all she could do was shuffle backward on her bum.

I kicked the back of the berserker's leg, hoping to divert its attention from her and it turned to me where I realised I didn't have a plan. I backed away slowly, thinking of my next move before I attempted to advance forward. I barely managed to get my hands on it before I felt it grab me by the wrist and push me backward with an unbelievable force.

I landed on my side, shoulder slamming into the hard pavement. Pain exploded within me and I grunted in discomfort, rolling on to my back as Scott landed in a heap next to me.

The three of us backed away as best as we could. I used my hand to push myself back, my shoulder completely immobile. I swore to myself, grunting through the pain while trying to look at my injury. It was hard to see the bones for Derek's oversized leather jacket that hung over my arms but I could feel something was obviously deformed—most likely dislocated.

While I was distracted, Kira came to our rescue with her katana and she wielded it with skill, fighting back both berserkers until she made the rookie mistake of turning her back to them. She was looking at Scott and while her eyes were occupied the berserker's made their move and pushed her backward also.

She landed on the floor by Scott, joining the three of us as we watched the creatures in defeat. They both turned to us, advancing again but were distracted by someone charging at them from behind.

In the shadows of the dark it was hard to see who it was but I managed to make out the features Derek's younger body as he bravely took on both of the berserkers. I struggled to sit and watch, anxiety gripping at my stomach as he chased them away but as he continued I saw slight changes in the way he was fighting. The skill level for him as a sixteen year old was out of this world and I swore in the faint light I saw him, our Derek but his body was still mature. My eyes had to have been playing tricks on me, surely.

Derek roared in warning to the two creatures, his back to us as the threatening growl pierced the air, and I watched as they backed away slowly before turning and running off.

My brows furrowed in confusion as they disappeared leaving my cousin standing there and with a great deal of pain, I managed to push myself to my feet while cradling my arm to my chest. Again, I swore Derek's anatomy had changed and I took a small step toward him as curiosity overpowered me.

My brow curved into an arch, "Derek?"

Still consumed mostly by the shadows, he turned around slowly but in the slither of light I caught a glimpse of his face and my heart pounded in my chest. Derek turned around fully to us and my breath hitched in my chest. Not only had he somehow changed back into himself, his eyes were shining a pure golden colour...

______________________

"How's your shoulder?"

I barely glanced at Stiles, dropping the jacket over the back of his desk chair while rolling out my sore joint, "Fine."

"Okay."

Silence fell between us—awkward silence and I spent it looking around his bedroom. It had been so long since I'd been here—since we had been in here together. I thought I'd passed all of this but it was startlingly obvious that I hadn't. It was all so weird.

"Look," Stiles sighed eventually, "I know you wanted to watch over Derek tonight."

"Yeah," I nodded, "I did."

"We have to talk about this Alex."

I turned around, eyes falling on him as he stood by his door with his arms crossed over his chest. I could see the exasperation in his eyes and I didn't thank him for it. I sensed an argument looming between us and when I thought I had nothing inside of me to give to it my anger flared to life when Malia's words echoed in my head.

'Well, we couldn't talk about you without making Stiles angry and none of us knew if you were coming back...'

He told me in Mexico everything was okay. I should've known better. I knew him better. I should have predicted that this would've ended in an ugly argument. I had hoped we could've avoided it, especially after everything we'd suffered through but I was naive in thinking that. At the end of the day, I had left without warning when Stiles and I's relationship was teetering on the edge of a cliff. I drove us over that cliff when I left without ever thinking of the consequences.

I was going to pay for them now. Stiles had the winning argument, mine was purely to defend myself but I had the trauma. I had the right to leave and I did. Granted I did it in the wrong way—without warning, without an indication.

I left, not him.

"Argue about it, you mean?" I corrected him.

He exhaled, "Well, I was hoping we could try and be civilised about it all."

"Rich," I responded, "Malia said something to me earlier, that you guys couldn't ever talk about me because it made you angry."

His nostrils flared, eyes glazing in a harsh glare but no matter how angry he appeared to be, his gaze would never, ever, match that of the deadly stare of the Nogitsune.

"You left," He was calm in saying but I sensed there was more to come, "Without even saying a word."

"I was thinking of leaving anyway." I responded.

He scoffed to himself and shook his head in disbelief, "You didn't tell me."

"We were still working things through." I justified, "They were thoughts, and even if I did, can you honestly blame me? Issac left... Chris, Ethan... you never gave them a hard time. Did you expect me to stay here and suffer? Because all it would've done was drove me to hating this place."

He nodded before asking quietly, "To hating me?"

"You're putting words into my mouth." I sighed heavily.

"But it's a genuine question, Alex," He said, "that's what you're implying. That by staying you'd end up hating me."

"I could never hate you." I said to him in exasperation, a scoff tumbling passed my lips, "Jesus Christ, Stiles. Do you honestly think I could?"

He shrugged, "I don't understand how you couldn't."

"Because I love you." I said to him, holding his arresting gaze for some few seconds before I shrugged, "Always have...always will... I can dislike you sometimes—like right now, for instance, when someone else tells me my name was particularly forbidden around you and back in Mexico you told me everything would be alright—"

"—Because it will be."

"Then stop saying it won't be," I urged him, "Stop putting words into my mouth."

He sighed heavily but I sensed this conversation was far from over. We had so much we needed to discuss and I had absolutely nothing inside of me right now. My feet were screaming for me to sit down, body aching. I hadn't slept properly in days, eaten...showered. I needed a hot shower and to climb into bed for a day and not get out. I needed to rest and I needed to recuperate. I hardly had time for that anymore.

Knowing Stiles' desk chair was behind me, I fell back into it and I threaded my hands into my hair, my elbows sitting on my knees. He watched my movements from across the room and I met his gaze and sighed, "Stiles, I'm exhausted," I admitted honestly, tears pricking at my eyes out of sheer exhaustion. A lump formed in my throat and I pushed myself to swallow it and continue, "I want to talk about this with you but it's passed midnight and all I want to do right now is get into our bed and sleep."

For a second his eyes twinkled, something to it as he arched his brow seemingly off guard. He looked at me, head dipped somewhat and said, "Our?"

I hadn't realised I'd said that but I didn't regret it. It had been our bed for as long as I could remember. It was hardly Stiles' anymore when I was the one who used to make it every morning. When we had designated sides and pillows.. I hoped he saw this as a stepping stone.

I barely shrugged my shoulders once and said, "If I'm allowed."

His lips curved into a small, soft, smile and he closed the space between us, reaching for my hands and taking them both in his. I watched him and his movements as he tugged on my hands, pulling me up from his chair as he said, "Of course you are."

I smiled at him tiredly, his hands distracting me from the way my body screamed as he pulled me to my feet. I did well to hide the grimace my face was desperate to twist in to.

My feet were burning as I stood on them and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He pulled me close, locking me in his embrace and I rested my chin against his shoulder, "I'm so tired." I barely whispered.

"I know." He responded, equally as quiet.

He pulled back after some seconds, forcing me to move my head away and meet his gaze again. He reached up gently and cupped my cheek, running his finger over my skin delicately in a caressing manner while a soft smile pulled at his lips. His hand shifted, his fingers curling around the back of my neck, the end of his digits just meeting the nape of my hair where he slowly moved until they threaded into my messy locks.

Stiles guided me forward and on instinct I closed my eyes and held my breath, waiting for our lips to connect. At first, his lips brushed so gently over mine, lingering but never really touching. It was fleeting...teasing.

When he moved again he kissed me properly, his full rounded lips pressing against mine in a gentle way. It was sweet, one that made the tiny butterflies in my stomach flap their wings softly but not enough for them to devour me. It was a tender kiss, one that showed me just how much he had missed me.

When he did pull away he looked at me softly and said, "We're not going to argue about this, okay?" I nodded, not expecting him to continue but he did, "I get it. I know why you did it."

A weight fell off my shoulders then and there and I was sure it was noticeable by the way my entire body relaxed. A deep sigh pooled out from within and Stiles squeezed the top of my arm in reassurance.

I tilted my head back to look at him again and said, "Can we skip school tomorrow?"

"Yeah. We can."

A soft smile tugged at my lips as I glanced to the alarm clock on the bedside cabinet. It was passed midnight now and I could feel the heaviness of my eyelids, threatening to close and pull me into what would hopefully be a dreamless sleep.

"Stiles?" I asked, listening as he hummed as if to indicate he was listening and I said, "No more lies."

A small silence followed before he said, "No more lies."

"Can we go to bed now, please?"

With the same soft and caring expression he shook his head, "No."

I recoiled somewhat, brows furrowing, "What?"

Stiles pushed me toward his door gently and he turned away from me, walking over to his drawers, "I can go to bed. You can't. You need a shower, Alex, you stink and because I love and care for you means I can tell you that."

He gathered a pair of shorts and a T-shirt that belonged to him in his hands before stopping to grab a towel and he shoved it into my hands while I gaped at him.

"Shower, Alex," He urged me, "You'll feel much better for it afterward."

I sobbed tearlessly before turning away from him knowing he was right. I headed for the door, grasping the handle in my fingers when he called out, "Lava lamp on?"

I glanced back to him and nodded, "Lamp on."

He nodded with a soft smile on his face and he flicked the light on while I leaned against the door frame and watched him. He took his flannel shirt off and kicked his shoes off before pulling the covers back for us to climb into when we were ready.

He wasn't aware that I was still watching him but I eventually cleared my throat and said, "We'll be alright won't we?"

"Yeah," He nodded, meeting my gaze again, "We'll be all right."

________________________

A/N; Fine Line reference at the end.

Also sorry for the long wait, I'm kind of obsessed with Finnick Odair and now I'm writing a fic with him as the love interest and in third pov too which I've missed so much.