┌─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┐
chapter two!
SECRETS DON'T MAKE
FRIENDS
└─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───┘

( tattoo, pt. ii )

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

THOUGH THE BIRDS have ceased their relentless attack on the students in Miss Blake's first period English class, it doesn't keep the room from being any less chaotic. It's now swarming with police officers and medical examiners who are attending to any injuries and inspecting the various feathers covering the desks and floor. Vera is perched on the edge of a table that she'd brushed clean with her hand. Swinging her legs back and forth, she tries in vain not to listen to the conversation that Allison is having with her father a mere few feet away, but her brain is like a magnet for picking up any talk about the supernatural.

"Dad, the deer and now this?" Allison questions under her breath as Chris Argent meticulously bandages a cut on the back of her hand. "It can't be a coincidence."

Vera shares a knowing look with Stiles, who sits on the desk beside her with his hands clasped in his lap and thumbs tapping anxiously. Allison knows it, too– something strange is going on in Beacon Hills. Again.

Their conversation attracts the attention of Stiles' dad, the sheriff. He approaches the Argents with caution, a deep rivet between his brows and the wrinkles on his forehead becoming more pronounced as he inquires, "Mr. Argent, you wouldn't have any insight into this, would you?"

"Me?" Argent repeats, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. He plays the innocent card well; after so many years of being a werewolf hunter, he's good at feigning oblivion to everything supernatural that transpires. There's a small frown that pulls down his lips and carves lines into his goatee. Even his sky-blue eyes hold a glimmer of perplexity in them.

"Yeah," Sheriff Stilinski confirms with a nod. "All this bizarre animal behavior— you must have seen something like this before, right?"

"I'm not sure why I would or why you would think I would," Argent responds with a confused yet polite smile on his face that shows a flash of perfect teeth.

There's a brief, awkward pause. Sheriff Stilinski breaks it by saying, "I'm sorry. I – I could've sworn I overheard my son talking about how you were an experienced hunter."

Argent's gaze flickers over the man's shoulder to Stiles, who conveniently hangs his head at the exact same time. "Ah, right. Well, not anymore."

Sheriff nods in understanding before turning to an unusually quiet Allison. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she replies in a barely audible voice, focused on her twiddling thumbs.

It doesn't sound very convincing. However, Stiles' father is well-acquainted with teenagers and knows when not to push something, so he gives her another nod and turns back toward the mess of birds on the tile.

"I've gotta call Scott," Stiles mumbles under his breath, already dialing by the time that he finishes his sentence. His words remind Vera that first period is still technically ongoing. She glances at the clock on the back wall. Judging by the time, it should be ending in a few minutes, so Dominic will be able to see her text by then. Mr. Harris doesn't allow any cell phones to be in sight during class, so Dom will have to check his messages after Physics ends.

Vera pulls her phone – already powered on again – out of her pocket and sends a quick text to him.

VEE: something weird happened in first period so i might leave early but not sure yet. you good on a ride home just in case?

She knows her words sound cryptic and vague, but she can't risk sending supernatural-related messages while he's in Harris' class. If the devil himself hears his phone buzz, he'll question Dominic and possibly force him to show him the text.

She's jarred out of thought by Stiles' voice as he talks into the phone. "We got a serious problem at school. Miss Blake's class–" He cuts himself off, presumably having been interrupted by Scott, rotating his head around in annoyance. "Well, no, I'm pretty sure this qualifies for immediate discussion. Derek's house? What the hell are you doing at–"

Stiles stops mid-sentence again, blinks, and then takes his phone away from his ear to stare at the screen with his mouth hanging open in offense. Vera would normally poke fun at the fact that Scott had hung up on him. However, she's too curious about the fact that Scott's at Derek's house to even come up with a sarcastic comment. Derek had purchased a loft closer to the downtown area a few months ago and has been working on getting it furnished– why would they be at his old home?

At that moment, her phone chimes, causing her to glance down at it.

SCOOT: derek says to come over with stiles. pack emergency

Vera's heart immediately lurches into her throat. Her eyes re-read the words pack emergency seemingly hundreds of times, fingers trembling as possibilities swarm in her head. Had they found Erica and Boyd? Had something happened that was so detrimental he couldn't make it to the loft? Why couldn't Derek send her a message himself?

Her hands are trembling so intensely she relies mostly on autocorrect to reply, okay before she turns to Stiles. "I guess I'm coming with."

Dominic replies as soon as the words leave her mouth.

DOM: you okay???

DOM: yes i can get a ride with stiles but are you okay is the important question

VEE: relatively. i'll be able to explain better in person. stiles also has to leave– pack emergency at derek's.

DOM: shit. i'll ask danny for a ride, then. hope everything's okay

Stiles addresses his father next, his words dragging Vera's attention up from her phone. "Hey, uh, Dad? Vera isn't feeling too well, so is it okay if I take her home?"

Vera would normally elbow Stiles for dragging her under the bus, but she chooses not to because a) his excuse will likely get them both out of school for the day, and b) Sheriff Stilinski is turning toward her in concern, so any angered movements from her would cause suspicion.

The skin around Stilinski's green eyes wrinkles even more when he frowns as he gives her a once-over. "Do you think you need to go to the hospital, Miss Pérez?"

Vera realizes that his attention is caught on the scratches on her face and the bandage that's on her wrist, exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of her sweater. She gives him a half-hearted grin that doesn't reach her eyes, trying to play the 'I'm traumatized but not so traumatized I need to see a medical professional' card. "No, Sheriff, thank you. I think I just need to go back to sleep."

"Well, I understand how that feels," he says with a nod. He turns toward Miss Blake next, jerking his head toward Vera. "I'll make sure she's excused for the rest of the day, ma'am."

"Great, bye." Stiles hops off of the desk and grabs Vera's hand, pulling her along with him until she's tripping over her own two feet to catch up. Allison shoots her a look of concern that she barely has time to answer with a wordless 'Tell you later' hand motion. Soon the two teenagers have burst into halls, which are empty other than a few miscellaneous police officers who are still gathering testimonies and evidence. Stiles dodges them with uncanny expertise.

"Stiles!" Vera protests as he all but manhandles her to the main entrance. Once they're outside and therefore out of sight of the officers in the corridor, she turns invisible and phases through his skin so his hand is clenched around nothing. A step to the left has her out of his grasp when she switches back into her solid form with an annoyed glare.

"Sorry," he mumbles as he adjusts his grip on his backpack, which he had haphazardly tossed over one shoulder. Vera's bag is gripped in her left hand because he hadn't given her a moment to sling it onto her back. "Just meet me at Derek's, okay?"

She merely rolls her eyes in response and starts down the steps that lead to the parking lot, reaching for her car keys, which she'd stuffed in one of her backpack's smaller pockets. Vera starts the engine and buckles her seatbelt as quickly as she can. Normally, she'd like to spend a moment on picking out a good playlist to listen to during her drive, but now doesn't seem like a good time to do so. Scott's text echoes in her mind. Pack emergency.

Scott isn't even in her pack. Even though Peter had been the one to bite him, which technically makes him and Derek wolf-brothers or whatever, Scott had never been formally inducted into Derek's group when he'd become an Alpha. That means that it's a pack emergency regarding her, Isaac, Boyd, or Erica. Or – she shudders to even think about it – Derek himself.

Vera relies mostly on her brain's muscle memory to take her down to the preserve and down one of the few roads that comes close to Derek's house. When she parks as close as she can get without driving straight onto the dirt and through the trees, she notices something peculiar. A set of tire tracks mars the otherwise flat ground heading into the woods– someone had driven straight through.

The sound of a car door closing makes her turn toward the sound. Stiles hurries toward her, powder-blue Jeep parked behind her small car. His attention immediately snags on the tracks as well, eyebrows furrowing as he looks at her with a silent question in his chocolate-brown eyes.

The two of them set off into the preserve. Vera keeps an eye on the tire marks the entire way, though the action is futile because she knows they lead to the Hale house. Sure enough, after a five-minute walk, the dilapidated place comes into view with Derek's car parked in front and Scott's green dirt bike right beside it.

What was once a beautiful three-story home had been completely ravaged by the fire that had burned most of Derek's family alive a few years back, the previously white-painted wood reduced to an ashy gray. Some of the windows still have partially-rotten boards nailing them shut. The roof is half caved-in while the other portion is completely burned away. It's a wonder that Derek had even managed to live here for a few months. She had offered to let him stay with her and her mother as soon as he'd returned to Beacon Hills, but he had preferred to stay in his old home.

She remembers the day of the fire with disturbing clarity. She'd been in fifth grade, and it had been a normal school day like no other, nothing raising alarm except when she'd stood outside of the elementary school where Peter had usually picked her up. She'd waited and waited, brushing off every teacher's concern about where her ride was. Then Laura had appeared with Derek, driving her brand-new car with reckless abandon, the tires screeching against the asphalt in the parking lot. Derek had climbed out and nearly thrown Vera inside. Normally, she would go to the Hale house to stay until her parents got off of work. Only that day, there was no Hale house to go back to, and so Laura had dropped her off at Dominic's and left her confused and terrified to learn why Peter hadn't been there.

Vera's eyes involuntarily drift to the spot where Derek had buried the first half of Laura's body that had been found. A chill drifts down her spine, a pang of grief hitting her square in the gut before she forces herself up to the open front door with Stiles trailing behind her. The acrid stench of smoke still lingers within the house after all these years, making her nose scrunch when she walks inside.

"Derek?" she calls out, almost afraid for the response she'll get.

"Over here," his voice responds. The sound of it nearly makes her knees shake with relief. She looks to the left of the foyer and the staircase that's barely standing upright, noticing him perched on a stool in front of Scott, who's sitting in a surprisingly clean chair that seems terribly out of place in the dilapidated interior of the house. Light filters through the boards over the windows and paints tiger stripes over their bodies, turning the tips of Scott's black hair a honey-brown where the sunlight reaches.

"What's the emergency?" she fires out, stepping around Derek so she can examine Scott for any surface injuries. He merely gives her a wave with his right hand; his left arm is held loosely in Derek's grip. It takes her a moment to notice that he's only in a grey tank top and his army-green jacket is slung over the back of the chair. Derek's veins aren't black— he isn't taking Scott's pain. So what the hell is going on?

Derek jerks his head forward, indicating an area behind Scott. Vera follows his gaze to see a body laid out on a table. There's a blue hospital blanket covering their entire body, and even though the person's head is turned the other way so she can't see their face, she'd recognize that mop of brunet curls anywhere. Something supernatural digs into her gut and informs her that it's a member of her pack.

It's Isaac. A very unconscious Isaac. They'd found him, and, suggesting by the way his collar bones peek out from the top of the blanket and lead to exposed shoulders, he apparently doesn't have any clothes on. This fact bewilders her more than it embarrasses her, and she whirls back around to face Derek with an incredulous expression.

He meets her gaze. Even though his eyes are their normal green color instead of the ruby red shade they'd be if he were exuding his Alpha influence over her, she's known him long enough to determine that his expression is a warning not to ask questions. It makes her huff in frustration. However, she keeps her lips sealed tight and crosses her arms over her chest so he knows she's annoyed.

Stiles has a very different approach. "Oh my God, is he naked?"

Scott shoots him an exasperated look before continuing an apparent conversation that they had interrupted by their arrival. "Anyway, so, it just... disappeared, like it sunk back into my skin."

Derek's eyes shift to bright crimson as he regards a specific area on the Beta's biceps. "Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?"

"I don't know." Scott's brow furrows, lips pulling into a thoughtful frown. "It's just something I traced with my fingers."

He reaches out toward the dust-coated desk in front of him and uses the tip of his index finger to draw a small circle. His middle finger joins it to draw a second ring around it, the two marks prevalent in comparison to the grime-coated surface.

"Sorry, what's going on?" Vera inquires with a motion toward Scott.

"He tried to get a tattoo last night, only for it to just immediately heal, so he wasted, like, over a hundred bucks," Stiles explains with a scratch to the back of his neck.

She nods in understanding, pulling her lips into a line to hide the mischievous smile that threatens to cross her face. Scott has no idea about the pain he's in for if he still wants that ink.

"Why is this so important to you?" Derek questions Scott.

"Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?" he asks in reply.

"'To mark something,'" Stiles finishes with a sly smirk, seemingly eager to know something that Derek doesn't.

"Well, that's in Tahitian," Scott says. "In Samoan, it means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned eighteen– I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now to make it kind of a reward."

Derek's eyes hold a glimmer of curiosity in them. "For what?"

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer. Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes. I was trying to give her the space she wants." He sighs, the breath huffing out of his lips. "Going four months later, it still hurts. It still feels like a, uh–"

Stiles nods in understanding. "Like an open wound."

"Yeah."

Vera's lips turn down into a frown of sympathy. She recalls all of those summer days she'd spent with Allison and Lydia, the strawberry blonde being someone Vera hadn't grown close to until Peter had bitten her on the lacrosse field and she'd stopped being... well... mean. Allison had to frequently hand her phone to one of the girls so she wouldn't be tempted to text Scott, either. She had scrolled past his posts on social media even though Vera sometimes caught her staring at a particular picture for a few seconds too long. Hearing it from Scott's point of view makes her heart ache for both of her friends.

Derek, not usually one for words of comfort or sentimentality, decides to get straight to the point. "The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt."

"Ah, that's great," Stiles mumbles sarcastically.

Scott, however, doesn't have a single glimmer of fear in his eyes. "Do it."

Vera edges closer to the Beta, knowing she'll have to play a part in this so Derek can do his job properly. The Alpha produces a blowtorch and ignites it. Both of the boys' eyes widen, but Vera isn't fazed. She'd been there when Derek had gotten the Triskelion tattoo that covers the entire top portion of his back. It was years ago, but she still remembers his screams.

"Woah, okay," Stiles gasps, blinking nervously as he rocks on his heels. "That's, uh– that's a lot for me, so I'm gonna take that as my cue. I'm just gonna wait outside."

He moves toward the door, but Derek reaches back and grasps his arm without looking. "Nope. You and Vera can help hold him down."

Stiles' face twists in a cringe both at the pain of Derek's iron grip and the thought of being in the room while Scott's skin is burned with the white-hot flame. Vera gives him a sarcastic wave from where she stands behind Scott. Stiles glowers at her as he rolls up the sleeves of his green flannel, trotting over to where Vera has placed her hands on Scott's shoulders. His towering height allows him to easily fit his arms around hers and assist her in holding Scott down in the chair.

"Oh, my God," Stiles groans in dread as Derek moves the flame closer to Scott's upper arm.

"Stiles, if you don't shut up, I'm going to make Derek burn you with that," Vera quips, trying to ignore the pit in her stomach as well. Seeing her friends in pain isn't something she likes to witness and she doesn't need Stiles making things worse with his comments.

The flame meets Scott's tanned skin. Immediately, his muscles go tense under Vera's hands, the scream that bursts from his mouth sounding more animal than human as he writhes despite both of their grips. His body jerks off of the back of the chair for a moment before they force him back down into it. His werewolf strength is nearly the same as Stiles and Vera's combined.

Derek shoots them a glance that lets them know they aren't doing well enough. "Hold him!"

Vera bites her tongue to prevent a sarcastic comment from slipping out as Scott's anguished cries increase in volume, writhing in place as black appears on his skin where Derek is keeping the flame steady. The stench of burning flesh invades her senses and nearly makes her eyes water. Scott himself begins to sweat from the heat of the blowtorch and the strain on his body, making his skin slippery underneath her fingers. His cry turns into a full-on wolf's roar as fangs protrude from his mouth.

And then his body goes completely limp, head turned to the side. It takes a moment for it to register that he'd passed out from the intensity of the pain.

Stiles releases him first, hands still cautiously outstretched as if he's preparing for Scott to abruptly wake up again and fly out of the chair. Vera is free to do the same once he steps back and gives her room to let go. She wipes her damp palms on her jeans and huffs a sigh from her mouth, the house now seeming eerily quiet now that it's absent from Scott's screams and any of their speech.

It breaks when Stiles' head bobs forward, eyes apparently locked on the flame touching his best friend's charring skin even though it's clearly revolting to him. "Alright, I'm gonna go vomit now."

Derek rolls his eyes as the boy darts out of the still-open door and into the open air. His mouth is set into a grim line of determination, framed by his usual neatly-trimmed goatee. He seems entirely focused on Scott's tattoo until his gaze flickers to her face and then lingers for a moment before returning back to the task at hand.

"What happened?" he asks. "You look like you got in a street fight."

Vera reaches up to gently touch the scratches on her cheeks, prodding the now-dried blood with the tips of her fingers. "Well, a crazy flock of birds flew straight into our classroom and broke the windows, sending them flooding in, so that was fun. Also, Hades scratched me."

Derek appears to pause at this. Then he replies, speaking louder to be heard over the sound of the blowtorch in his hand. "He never does that."

"I know," she answers, crossing her arms over her chest. "You gonna tell me what's up with Lahey over there?"

"Not while they're around. They don't know about the Alphas."

Vera chokes on her own spit, eyes nearly popping out of her head. "Alphas? You mean they're all here and it's not just Deucalion? Derek, what the hell–?"

Before she can finish interrogating him despite the fact she knows she won't get any answers, Stiles chooses that time to come stumbling back into the house. She cuts herself off and turns her back to Derek. Her bottom lip is clamped between her teeth so she doesn't demand an answer in front of Stiles.

Derek had only told her about Deucalion over the phone last night. He deliberately chose not to mention the fact that Deucalion's entire pack of Alphas had also tagged along, which seems like pretty pertinent information to Vera. She isn't used to him hiding anything from her. It's always been a deal of theirs to be honest with each other, which is why her stomach feels like it's twisting itself up in knots as she stares at Isaac's unconscious form.

One way or another, he'd apparently been with the Alphas. Is that why he had been missing for days? Had they kidnapped him or something?

A terrible thought barrels into her like a sucker punch. Do they have Erica and Boyd?

Vera releases her bottom lip from its prison between her teeth, grabbing a charred chair and sitting on it backwards so her arms are draped over its back. Even more questions bombard her brain until her head hurts. Why is Isaac wearing a blanket from the hospital? And, for the love of God, why is he naked?

Her leg bounces up and down restlessly. She buries the bottom half of her face in the sleeves of her sweater so she can't smell the stench of Scott's burning skin anymore, trying to imprint each of her inquiries into her mind so she doesn't forget them in a few minutes like she always seems to.

It takes forever for Derek to finish the tattoo, but once he does, Stiles heaves an immense sigh of relief. Derek turns off the blowtorch and sets it on top of the desk to his left. He then pushes himself into a standing position, warns Stiles not to disturb Scott until he wakes up, and pointedly avoids Vera's gaze.

Asshole, Vera mentally jabs at him. Her brother can be a real jerk when he wants to be.

Slipping her phone out of her pocket, she checks the time to see an hour had passed since she and Stiles had arrived. She also notices several unread texts from her friends.

DOM: why the fuck isn't anyone at school today

DOM: allison and lydia went home too. i literally don't have any friends here.

DOM: on the bright side, there are some new hot twins and at least one of them is definitely into boys

DOM: in more pressing matters though, what was the emergency??

ALLY: call me when you can. no rush– just need to tell you something

Vera sighs. Great. Even though Allison had claimed there isn't a rush in replying, a pit of nerves starts to form within her. She's had enough weird occurrences for the day and it's not even eleven in the morning. She does reply back to Dominic, though, apologizing for leaving him all alone.

The moment she puts her phone away, Scott hurtles back into consciousness with a gasp, causing her to leap out of her seat in fright. His skin is still covered in sweat that has soaked the collar of his gray tank top. He barely seems to notice, though, because he regards his new tattoo with fascination. "It worked."

Derek chucks a small towel at his face in response. Scott grabs onto it, using the material to mop up the droplets on his chest and face. His expression still holds an almost childlike aura of giddiness at the two circles that wrap around his biceps. The band on the top is slightly wider than the one on the bottom, exactly the way he'd drawn it in the dust.

After he tugs his white long-sleeve on again and grabs his coat, he and Stiles begin to head toward the door to leave. Vera is anxious for them to go. She's itching for answers, and as long as they're still here, she isn't going to get any.

"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now," Stiles comments with a motion to the new mark.

"Yeah," Scott agrees with a half-chuckle. "I kind of needed something permanent. With everything that's happened to us, everything just changes so fast."

Vera doesn't catch on to the rest of their conversation, too focused on the fact that Derek is now hunched over Isaac and checking for any sign of consciousness. His eyelids stay firmly shut. She has no idea what could be causing him to remain asleep for so long– if it had been due to an injury, he'd have woken up by now due to his supernatural healing abilities.

Scott's voice rings through the house and grabs their attention. "You painted the door. Why'd you paint the door?"

She turns around and notices that he's right. She'd been so preoccupied with her fears that she'd somehow missed the fact that the front door is now a bright red, which he must have done to hide Deucalion's mark that he'd told her about.

"Go home, Scott," Derek commands, which isn't an answer.

The teenage boy doesn't obey. He runs a hand along the grooves of the wood, head tilted to the side in perplexity. "And why only one side?"

He flicks out his right hand so his claws extend. Instead of gently inspecting the paint like he had just a moment ago, he digs his claw into the wood and sends a flake of red fluttering to the ground.

Derek rushes toward him in protest. "Scott!"

The boy ignores him, increasing his pace of scratching until the floor is littered with the remnants of the red paint, nails scraping it away until the original color is visible beneath. Vera joins Derek's side to see that it's not merely the normal, plain door she'd been used to seeing. Beneath the paint is a symbol in black. It looks like a triangle with lines attached to each point, creating a sort of larger triangle around it.

To Vera, it feels more like a target.

"The birds at school, Vera's cat, and the deer last night– just like the night I got trampled by the deer... when I got bit by the Alpha." Scott's expression turns hard. "How many are there?"

Derek sighs. "A pack of 'em– an Alpha pack."

"All of them?" Stiles questions with his eyes squinted in confusion. "How does that even work?"

"There's some kind of a leader. He's called Deucalion." Derek notices when Vera shifts her weight at the name, but otherwise gives no outward reaction. "We know they have Boyd and Erica. Peter, Isaac, and I have been looking for them for the past four months."

At that, Vera steps backward into the railing of the staircase. She winces as the charred wood bangs into her spine and clutches onto it so she doesn't topple backward. Four months. They've known about the Alpha pack for four months? Erica and Boyd had gone missing at the same time Vera had been recovering from the bite. That's how long they've been keeping it from her.

Derek had only told her about Deucalion last night, and even that was a quarter – no, less than that – of what she really had to worry about.

Scott steps forward, crooked jaw seeming even more off-kilter as he clenches it. "Let's say you find them. How do you deal with an Alpha pack?"

"With all the help I can get," Derek replies nonchalantly.

Vera nearly fires back, Bullshit! because that's clearly not true. If he'd truly been looking for all the help he could get, he would have told her and Scott. What truly prevents her from retorting is a voice that breaks through their conversation.

"Where is she?"

The four of them turn toward the source to discover a very conscious Isaac now staring at them, sitting upright on the table. The baby blue blanket had fallen across the lower half of him from the movement and therefore leaves his bare chest exposed. His curls are an absolute mess, eyes bleary but otherwise alert when he adds more to his initial question. "Where's the girl?"

They all share a look of confusion before Derek asks, "What girl?"

"Th – There was a girl–" Isaac swallows. "She saved me. Where is she?"

Derek walks closer to get more information and clarity on what the hell he's talking about, and Vera knows she should be following right after him, but frankly, she's too angry and bewildered to even move. She stares at the Alpha pack symbol on the door and feels trepidation course through her veins. She had been right– it is a target. She'd joked about Derek needing to leave last night, but that had only been to conceal her fear. This seems much worse than the Alphas merely showing up in town. It feels like a promise.

"Are you okay?" Scott asks, and it takes Vera a moment to realize he's talking to her. She sends him a questioning glance. He elaborates, "Your heart skipped a beat when Derek said Deucalion's name. Do you know him?"

Vera forces her body not to shudder; every nerve revolts against the sound. "No."

He inclines his head at her, eyes going all soft like they tend to do when he's comforting someone who's hurting. "I can tell when you're lying."

"I just— I don't really wanna talk about him, okay?" Vera replies with another shift of her weight.

Scott nods in understanding, reaching out to give her a light squeeze on the shoulder. "Okay."

She and Scott's worlds had only really collided after he'd been bitten back in January. They hadn't known each other beyond having the occasional class together, but when Allison had moved to Beacon Hills and they'd started dating while Vera was becoming friends with her, plus everything with Peter was happening, they had started to get to know each other more. Vera is incredibly glad they had. Scott has a kind of gravitational pull to him that makes him so damn likable, and he's incredibly good at being there for the people who need him.

That's why his deep brown, almond-shaped eyes are still plagued with concern as Vera points toward Derek and Isaac, saying, "I should go check on that."

She leaves the two boys in the doorway, the short heels of her ankle boots echoing clicks on the creaking floorboards. The tail-end of Derek's conversation with Isaac greets her ears the closer she gets. Eventually, she reaches the chair she'd been sitting in before and swings her leg over it, perching on it backwards once again.

"I'm telling you, there was a girl, too," Isaac says firmly, ice-blue eyes gaining more clarity the longer he stays awake. His voice is still tinged with lethargy from whatever had made him pass out. However, he's only sounding more and more frustrated instead of tired as he continues to talk. "She rescued me. They brought her to the hospital, too, and Melissa said she was doped up on morphine so I couldn't talk to her."

"Okay, Isaac, we believe you," Derek tells him patiently in order to simmer any anger that's building up in his Beta.

Isaac's gaze flickers to Vera as if he'd just noticed her existence, his mouth immediately slamming shut so hard that his teeth clack together. His sharp jaw tenses, a cord in his neck prominent when he swallows.

"Couldn't resist getting your ass kicked, huh, Lahey?" she questions with a sarcastic grin. Isaac narrows his eyes at her in an annoyed glare, but she doesn't care. Banter with him is familiar and natural– two headstrong people like them are bound to clash, and that's practically all they've been doing since Derek turned him during Sophomore year. It comes as easily as putting on a coat. The conversation she'd almost had with Scott fades to the background of her mind as her brain welcomes the distraction with open arms.

"It's okay, Isaac," Derek says with a look at Vera that warns, Don't push it. "She knows."

Vera frowns at this. It's clear from Isaac's hesitation when he'd seen her that Derek had forced him to swear some kind of oath of secrecy, though how Derek had convinced him to is a mystery. Does Isaac know the truth? Does he know about Vera's family history with the Demon Wolf, or had Derek ordered him not to ask questions but do as he was told?

With another glance at Vera, Isaac shifts his gaze to the space between her and Derek before he speaks again. "I don't remember much. We were on a motorcycle, she knew my name, and she kept telling me to stay awake. I must have passed out, though, because I woke up in an ambulance. And since you weren't answering your phone" — he shoots a pointed glare at the Alpha — "I told Melissa to call Scott."

"Some of the Alphas were pretending to be doctors and nurses," Derek informs both of them. "I got there just in time to save Scott from being choked to death in the elevator while you were passed out. That means the hospital is off-limits."

"No more serious injuries or illnesses for the time being, got it," Vera notes with a nod. The thought of the Alphas posing as medical professionals terrifies her, but instead of showing it, she buries her fear deep down and chooses to use humor as a coping mechanism instead.

"And I want you staying with me at the loft until this whole thing passes," he says to her.

Vera blinks. "I'm sorry. What?"

"There is nobody there to protect you if the Alphas figure out who you are and show up at your doorstep. I'm not risking that. Go home and pack your stuff."

She stares at him, mouth slightly hanging open and eyebrows raised. He's not technically wrong. Her mother is gone on business trips more often than not, only staying home for a week or so at a time as if the mere thought of being in their house is unbearable. It barely bothers Vera anymore. Things have been like this since her father died, and she's learned to be self-sufficient over the years.

If Derek's right and Deucalion finds out where she lives, he can easily show up at her door and kill her. He could probably break into her house with minimal effort. If she stayed at Dominic's house next door, her scent would still be detectable from her own home. The loft is the next best option– there's nobody who can defend her better than her Alpha. Not only because of his obvious strength and sibling-like bond to her, but also because of some supernatural instinct that makes protecting his Betas the most important thing in the world to him.

"Fine," she agrees with a huff, "but you'd better hope that Dominic can catsit, or I'm bringing Hades with me."

__________

a/n:

me: derek and vera's relationship is going to be so cute!!!!

also me: *makes things angsty between them for the first few chapters and probably even longer until derek gets his shit together*

enjoy the quick update as my hyperfixation on isaac lahey gives me an unquenchable drive to keep writing this story :)

i'm actually really enjoying writing this. i've had a lot of trouble writing teen wolf fanfictions in the past (i've tried like six times and ended up drafting all except one), but i'm already so attached to vera and dominic. i really love vera's backstory and i'm excited to unpack it, as well as delve deeper into dominic's character!

what character are you most excited to see vera interact with more? personally, i'm pumped to write her scenes with allison and lydia because girl power!!

–kristyn

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