In the show, the Hale fire was six years before the first season. Because of details in this fic, I've shortened that time to four years before because it just makes more sense with my plot!
---

Alexandra awoke to the sound of a chair scraping across the linoleum kitchen floor downstairs. A quick glance at the digital clock on her nightstand told her it was nearly three am.

She sighed and slipped from her bed, wandering down the stairs. Now this would be a perfectly appropriate time to get robbed, at least if her father hadn't just gotten back from searching for the missing Lydia Martin.

She found him sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. She hadn't seen him once since she arrived, and a part of her wasn't even sure he knew she'd gotten back. His shoulders were trembling and a glass of scotch sat next to him.

The brunette quietly walked up and rested a hand gently on his shoulder, causing his neck to snap up as he looked for the source of the sudden physical touch. His blue eyes met hers and he sighed and then smiled.

"Hey, sweetheart, what're you doing up? God, it's good to see you."

Alex smiled softly and rested her weight against her father's side, and her chin on the top of his head. "I couldn't sleep. Jetlag. Did you just get back? Stiles told me about. . ." she trailed off as she saw the pain in his eyes.

It had been more than twenty four hours and it was freezing out there. She could see the hope of finding Lydia Martin alive beginning to leech from his gaze.

"Do you want me to make hot cocoa?" She murmured, changing the subject quickly.

He glanced at the alcohol placed in front of him and then back to his teen daughter that had moved to the cabinets and was rummaging through them for a box of Swiss Miss. "Sure, honey. How was the flight? I'm sorry I haven't been able to catch you, this has just. . .it's a whole mess. I've been out there day and night looking for that poor girl."

Alex forced a smile and looked back at her father over her shoulder. He looked like a wreck, and had clearly seen very little sleep in the past few days. Scouring the Preserve for the body of a teenage girl was not an easy feat, especially since it wasn't the first time he'd had to look for a body this year. Plus, it was a girl he knew, no less. A girl that had been his son's date to the Winter Formal. The weight that causes is unimaginable.

"Do you want marshmallows in your cocoa?" Alexandra queried, finally locating the box of hot chocolate packets.

Noah leaned back in his chair, still wearing his Sheriff's uniform. He must've just gotten back, since she rarely saw him in it outside of working hours.

"Do we have marshmallows?" He asked, a layer of doubt in his deep tenor she knew so well.

She waved the bag of stale mini marshmallows in the air from where she'd located it stuffed in the back of the cabinet. "Doubt they've gone bad. Can marshmallows even go bad?"

He laughed and shook his head, a lightness slowly returning to him as his work lifted off his shoulders. She'd often found in her life that that was part of her job. Reminding her dad that their home was a place that the troubles of work were checked at the door. Her mother had used to do that, with her quiet confidence and warm demeanor. Alex had always hoped she could emulate her mother's goodness. But, far too often, she found herself falling short of the bar her mother had set.

"I don't think that that is a question you want answers to, sweetheart."

She smiled and began heating up milk on the stove after she'd poured the hot chocolate packets into two mugs and added mini marshmallows to both. She stirred the milk with her eyebrows furrowed, completely focused on the white liquid. It didn't seem it, but milk was dangerous to look away from in the kitchen. It could become an explosive weapon all too quickly.

Noah let out a quiet sigh and she felt a feeling of anxiety wash over her. Please don't mention That. Please don't mention That. Please don't mention That.

"So, honey, we really need to talk about . . . about London. About what happened." She felt her shoulders stiffen and jump to her ears. Her body going into defensive mode rather rapidly. Her father began to speak in a quicker, more comforting tone, attempting to soothe her. "We don't have to this minute, but we do have to eventually. I . . . I was looking at therapists in Beacon Hills. You really liked Dr. Mills after Clau- . . . after your mother died. She's still available, if you want. And school, we need to figure out school. I could put you into Beacon Hills High, you could take all the same classes as Stiles. You don't have to this week, or even next . . . but eventually?"

Alex looked down at her hands and realized they were trembling. She gripped the counter until her knuckles turned white, her eyes had begun blurring with salty tears. "I - um, can we talk about this later? I - I can't - um - right now." It was too soon. It hadn't even been a week.

She took in a trembling breath and looked back at her father. When he saw her face he quickly rose and pulled her into a tight embrace. "Yes, of course, honey. We can figure this all out later. Let's just have some hot cocoa and get you back to bed." He kissed the top of her head and held her tightly for several minutes.

She kept her eyes on the milk the whole time.

---

That next morning, Alexandra awoke quicker. She made a quick lap of the whole house before settling for breakfast, unsure if she'd have another surprise visit from Mr. Creepy Hot Guy. Whose name she still didn't know.

She had a single goal for the day, and it was to actually leave the house. A feat she had yet to achieve. Once finishing her cereal and some strawberries, she grabbed a set of keys and went back up to her room to get dressed.

Her room was cozy and cute. She had a queen-sized bed pushed into one corner. Pastel blue covers and fluffy white pillows sat on top. She had a basket filled with stuffed animals at the end of her bed and posters of superheroes covering the walls. Fairy-lights were strewn everywhere. In a different corner, she had her desk with framed photos of her mother, her father, and her and Stiles. She also had a cork board covered in Polaroid pictures of her childhood.

A white loveseat sat in the middle of the room, facing a small TV her father had hung on the wall for her fourteenth birthday. The middle of the room was taken up by a pale blue rug. She also had a small closet on the wall beside her bed. It was empty except for her open suitcase and a few shoeboxes filled with trinkets.

Alexandra bee-lined for her suitcase, pulling out piles of clothes. She was searching desperately for an outfit that looked even mildly presentable. Settling on Mom jeans and a white t-shirt with a zip-up hoodie over it,  she began looking for a pair of shoes.

Her handy red converse were sitting at the bottom of the suitcase, squished and folded, but always wearable.

The brunette pulled on her outfit and went to the bathroom she shared with her brother to check herself out. She put the spare keys in her pocket and took a deep breath, readying herself for the outside world. Her small, brown, leather knapsack sat next to the stairs and she slung it over her shoulder after checking for her wallet inside.

Alex then went to the garage to grab her bike. To her surprise, it was still completely intact and none of the tires needed air.  She slowly guided it out of the garage and onto the sidewalk, closing the garage behind her with the clicker attached to the keychain.

She let the bicycle balance against her hip as she googled what was open nearby and things she could do that were in relative biking distance.

Beacon Hills was classified as a 'small town' but it was still large enough that it took a bit to get to certain places. There were also around two thousand students at the high school and it wasn't the only high school in the county, either.

She tied up her shoulder length hair into two messy pigtails and clambered rather ungracefully onto the bike. There was a cafe a few blocks away, and she could get tea and then maybe head downtown for shopping.

She adjusted the straps of her knapsack and slowly began to pedal. It had been around a year since she'd last ridden a bike and the bicycle wobbled slightly under her as she regained her balance and remembered how it worked.

It wasn't too difficult. Just like riding a bike, her thoughts relayed.

Rolling her eyes at her idiotic sense of humor, the teenager slowly pedaled to the cafe.

---

It was a small, quaint shop tucked in between an athletic store and a boutique. Alexandra rolled her dark green bicycle into the bike rack out front and locked it with the bike lock attached to the seat.

She wiped her hands on her jeans and opened the door, greeted by the familiar 'ding' of the door's bell.

The place was not overly crowded, but still busy. A small line of three people stood at the cashier and there were only a few empty tables scattered around the space. It was small and rustic with a bit of a bohemian vibe. A rather usual thing for California.

She fell into line behind a thin, shorter blonde girl who was pale and seemed to have an acne problem. The girl had messy, thick hair and stood at around 5'6 or 5'7. Shorter than Alex but not tiny.

The brunette pulled out her phone and began fiddling on it, playing Angry Birds as she waited for her turn. The girl in-front of her was looking up at the chalkboard menu, and was fiddling anxiously with the sleeve of her sweater.

She was pretty, in a rather plain way. With dark eyes, thin eyebrows, and full lips.

Alex turned her gaze fully on her phone, trying to ignore the flush that entered her face.

Stop checking her out. Creepy.

Taking another step forward, she realized that she was second in line and the blonde girl had reached the counter. The girl rested against it, chewed fingernails digging into the granules of wood as she anxiously looked between the barista and the menu.

Alex was trying to not eavesdrop, but it was difficult when she was standing right behind the other teenager.

"Um. A 12 oz mocha with soy milk and an everything bagel with cream cheese, please," the girl murmured. Her voice was light and fragile, and she sounded like she was incredibly shy. Alex put her phone into her back pocket, readying herself for her own order.

Chai tea with whole milk and a chocolate chip cookie.

"A name for the order?" The barista drawled, typing away on the machine. She had a round face, black hair and hazel eyes. Also very, very pretty. Her name tag said her name was Dahlia, which fit her vibe to a T. Alex had always loved that, when someone's name fit their energy perfectly, it always brought a smile to her face. 

The blonde smiled awkwardly and stuttered as she spoke. "Eri- Erica."

The barista smiled quickly and then wrote it down on the cup. "That'll be right out, hon. That'll be seven dollars and thirty cents."

Alex looked away as the blonde passed her debit card.

Snoop.

She felt her ears turn red as her brain admonished her behavior.

The blonde walked away, heading to a table in the corner near the window. Alex approached the counter and smiled widely at the black haired barista. "Hey! Beautiful day, huh?" She winked, nodding to the bright sky outside.

The barista nodded slowly and forced a retail smile that the Stilinski recognized. "Yep. What're you ordering?"

"One 16 oz Chai tea latte with whole milk and a chocolate chip cookie, please."

The barista nodded and typed away on the machine. "Alright. Name?"

"Alex," the brunette hummed, pulling her knapsack in front of her so she could locate her wallet. She found it and pulled out a ten. "How much, love?"

The barista blinked and glanced up and then down to the computer. "That'll be eight dollars and fifty cents. It'll be out soon."

Alexandra passed over the ten and stuffed the change into the tip jar. She winked at the barista as she went to go find a table.

The only open table nearest to the counter was one directly next to the blonde's table. Alexandra slipped into it quietly and opened her phone, scrolling through the recent news from the Beacon Hills Post. She still needed to catch up on the going-ons of this town, and also to see if her father had found Lydia.

First, she checked the live updates of the Amber Alert. There had been alleged sightings all over the county, but nothing concrete.

Next, she scrolled. Two articles caught her eyes.

'ARGENT FUNERAL THIS AFTERNOON'

Argent . . . as in Allison Argent? Alexandra tapped the article, skimming through it.

'Serial killer Kate Argent's funeral is being held today at the Beacon Hills Cemetery. The Argent family have asked that it be private.'

Serial killer? Serial killer?

In Beacon Hills?

Alexandra tapped the next article, which went into detail about the alleged serial killer, Kate Argent. Allison's aunt.

Imagine being related to that level of crazy. Sheesh.

She skimmed through the article, her eyebrows raising higher on her face with every paragraph. Kate Argent had been behind the Hale fire, which had been a big deal in the small town when it happened four years ago, the same year that Alex decided to go to boarding school.

Kate Argent was responsible for the death of eight people. Kate Argent was responsible for the death of Alex's childhood best friend.

It was said that when the police finally caught up to her in the old Hale house, she'd killed herself with a knife. A gruesome end to a horrible life.

The brunette let out a low whistle and shook her head, needing to turn off her phone. Pangs of grief and relief flooded through her body, but before she could delve too far into her own head, a voice interrupted her.

"Horrific, right?" said the girl behind her. Alex jumped, spinning in her seat to make eye contact with the pretty blonde girl. "Sorry, I - uh - saw you reading the article on your phone and - um - nevermind. Sorry."

Alex shook her head and smiled comfortingly. "No, no, it's ok. I'm a total snoop, too. I'm Alex, by the way."

The girl took the Stilinski's offered hand and shook it. "I'm Erica . . . Reyes. Erica Reyes. I haven't seen you around before, are you new?"

"Um, no, not really. I was at boarding school and just moved back. You might know my twin, Stiles?"

Erica's entire face flushed pink. "Oh, wow, I didn't know Stiles had a sister. Yeah, we're - um - in the same grade?" She turned her bright brown eyes down to her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. "Where was your boarding school? I've never met someone who went to boarding school..." she trailed off quietly, her ears a bright shade of crimson and her bottom lip caught between her teeth. A nervous tic.

Alexandra fiddled with her bracelets and attempted a soothing tone of voice. She wasn't used to socializing with strangers, and it was hard to remember how to act. "London. Really far, I know. I probably sound like such a snob." She rolled her eyes and looked down at her jeans, laughing awkwardly.

God, this whole thing was awkward.

"England? Wow, that's so cool. I've never been out of the country, that's amazing."

Alex nodded quickly, and attempted a smile. "Yep. London. Super rainy and dreary, kind of depressing. But, pretty. Lots of farmland and you drive on the wrong side of the street." She winked and Erica laughed. It sounded like a bell.

The blonde began picking at a pimple on her chin and jumped when her name was called. "I - uh - yeah." She stood and shyly walked to the counter, grabbing her drink and food.

A mocha? Or latte? Alex couldn't quite recall the girl's order as she walked back up. "What'd you get?"

"A mocha with soy and a bagel," the other teen supplied, settling back down at her seat. "It's so good."

Alexandra stood when her own name was called, and headed to the counter to grab her warmed cookie and chai latte. The barista gave her a quick smile as she passed it to her.

The brunette walked back to her seat and then hesitated before sliding into the seat across from Erica. "So, you go to Beacon High?"

Erica nodded, taking a delicate bite from her bagel. "Yeah, are you transferring?"

Alex shrugged and looked down at her drink. She blew on it, knowing from past experience it would take a minute before it was cool enough to sip. "I don't know yet. I don't want to be held back, but it's awkward entering in the middle of the school year, y'know? I'd have no friends besides my brother, either." She scowled at her drink and picked apart her cookie.

"Well, if it's not too forward, I'd love to be your friend. I don't really have any myself."

"What?" Alex exclaimed, feeling genuine shock pour through her. "How? You're so pretty."

Blinking, the blonde stared at the brunette across from her as if she was kidding. "I think you might be the first person to say that."

Alex rolled her eyes and laughed. "You're kidding. You're literally gorgeous, high schoolers are just mean."

A silence stretched on between them, but it wasn't quite awkward. She could tell that Erica was thinking about something, mulling it over carefully.

"There's this video . . . of me. I have epilepsy and . . . someone took a video of me having a seizure." Her face was brighter than a tomato and unshed tears were beginning to well in her eyes. "I . . . I peed myself in it."

The realization hit Alexandra like a freight train and she deflated. "Oh. Well, it's not like it's your fault. It's a disease. I'm so sorry that some heartless jerks did that, though."

Erica shrugged and wiped quickly at her eyes, shaking her head. "It's fine. I'm used to it."

Softly smiling, Alex leaned back in her chair and brought her drink to her lips. "I'd love to be your friend, Erica. You seem awesome, and way better than anyone else at that school."

A giggle escaped the girl and she looked down, "Thank you." She stated into her cup, blowing softly and a pink blush dusting her cheeks. Alex smiled and took another bite of her cookie, trying to not outwardly check out the girl. She was wearing a big crew neck sweater and her hair fell in loose tangles around her face. Blonde with dark roots, as if she dyed it.

The two girls continued their conversation, talking about school and England and the weather in California. It was long before an hour had slipped by and they both were nursing empty mugs.

"I'm gonna give you my number, ok? Then, I really have to go. But, it was wonderful talking to you. We should hang out again this week. Maybe the mall this weekend?"

Erica nodded in delight and gratefully took Alex's number when she wrote it on a napkin and passed it to her. The brunette slipped out of her chair and checked herself over for all her belongings before waving to her new friend and slipping out the door.

She wasn't quite sure where to go next, but her morbid curiosity was drawing her towards the old Hale house. The site of Kate Argent's suicide.

---

The house was dark and ugly. A remnant of what it had been when Alex was young. She remembered it from sleepovers she only thought about on her worst days. Before the fire and before her mom had gotten sick.

A large, white colonial mansion, with a big wraparound porch and children's laughter always pouring into the woods. The Hales had been a nice family, but Cora had been Alex's favorite. Her best friend, who knew every secret she had to give.

She remembered the grief when she'd learned her friend had died in a fire.

The brunette rolled her bike to a stop in the trees and looked up at the building. Yellow police tape snapped in the wind, barely strung across the doorway. There was an eerie feeling to the house and she knew it had to have been haunted. Too many violent deaths had happened for it not to be.

As if on cue with her thoughts, a shadowy figure drifted across the edges of her vision, but when she turned to look at it, it was gone. Chills ran up her arms and down her spine and she could feel her hair raise.

Something dangerous lurked in that house. Something dark and evil and twisted.

Backing up, still sitting on the bike, the Stilinski girl let out a gasp when a figure appeared on the porch, seemingly out of nowhere.

Mr. Creepy Hot Guy.

He had his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and a few days' old scruff now sat on his jaw. A cold gaze clear on his handsome, sharp features. She was doing her very best to not drink in every gorgeous inch of him. He was honestly the most exquisite man she'd ever set eyes on, and it was hard for her to tear her eyes from him. Even at a distance, she could see the lines of his muscles and his carved-from-marble features. How could someone be allowed to be that attractive? It felt illegal. 

"What're you doing here? This is private property." His words forced her back into the present moment, out of her admiration of his physique and looks. 

Alex rose an eyebrow, looking around the place. "Actually, it's county property, so technically you're trespassing, too. Who the hell are you?" She spoke the words callously, her hands wrapping around the bike handles as she scowled at him. A muscle in his jaw flexes, drawing her attention down and then back to his steely, green eyes. 

He was vaguely familiar, now that she saw him out in the daylight. She couldn't quite pinpoint how she knew him, but she recognized him. A tickle in the back of her mind urging her to recall who this mysterious man was. This gorgeous mystery man. 

Then it hit her.

Staring up at the dark house, with the burned and broken walls, she realized where she knew this man. It was Derek Hale. The last surviving member of the Hale family, besides his sister, Laura. The only remnant of a family that had perished to the flames caused by Kate Argent. 

"Who are you?" he responded, ignoring her question even though she'd answered it herself. He slowly approached, stepping off the stairs and onto the overgrown driveway. "County property or not, Stiles's sister has no reason to be here. I never caught your name, either." His muscles flexed under his far too tight shirt, and she had to force herself to keep her gaze on his green eyes. His very attractive green eyes. God, was she so screwed. 

Alex scoffed and rolled her bright blue eyes, resting one hand on her waist. "I'm my own person, douchebag. Just because we're twins doesn't mean we have to be lumped together as one individual." She rolled her eyes and looked away, feigning offense.

When she looked back, his face hadn't changed. He stood there, emotionless and stony. The pure embodiment of uncaring. He reminded her vaguely of a Wattpad bad boy dream wannabe, with the dark hair and the beard and the leather jacket.

Planting one foot on the ground, Alex tilted her chin up and smiled brightly. "I'm Alex, just so you know." She winked and his lip curled. Alex relaxed her posture and crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. "Your turn, name for a name."

He had planted his feet shoulder width apart and stood with both hands in his pockets. His nostrils flared and then he released a long, deep breath. "Derek. Now, leave." The intensity of his stare only made her grin, ignoring the feelings wrapping around her core from that look. That goddamn look. 

Alex looked back at the house, at the fluttering curtains in the broken windows and the charred exterior that likely matched the interior. She finally ended up shaking her head. "You're living here, aren't you? Why?"

His scowl deepened and he let out a scoff, as if her question brimmed with ignorance. "That's not your business. Leave."

Narrowing her bright blue eyes, the Stilinski twin finally conceded to his requests and raised her hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine, I'll go, homeless boy. No need to get all pissy." She winked and put both feet on the pedals, grabbing the handlebars of her bike. "B-T-Dubs, you really need to stop lurking. You're gonna get the reputation of a pedo." Turning her bike around, she began to peddle away. "Toodles!"