I do not own Teen Wolf or any of its characters. I only own Celeste. If I did I would do a flashback to baby Stydia back in the third grade when Stiles first falls for her.

Song – Blue Blood // Laurel

Celeste's POV

"It's raining," Lydia groaned, peeking out of her bedroom window, "again."

"Does your thumb ever just start burning for no reason?" Celeste pondered aloud from her position on her best friend's bed, "Because that happens to me sometimes. I'm starting to worry."

"I mean, what ever happened to 'The Sunshine State'?" Lydia ranted on, the two girls having completely different conversations, "Capitalistic lies."

"That's Florida, babe," Celeste snorted at the strawberry blonde's indignant ramblings, "We're 'The Golden State'."

"Oh," Lydia blinked, "well, I'm not seeing much gold either. I hate this kind of weather so much."

Outside, rain was pouring down in sheets, filling the air with sound as the roaring winds mixed together with the droplets of water speeding to the ground like bullets.

"I love it," Celeste smiled passively, "thunderstorms calm me down. It's kind of like seeing the rest of my surroundings resort to chaos causes me to center myself."

"Yeah, well you also like to read Edgar Allan Poe by the light of the moon," Lydia snorted, "You're creepy, and so is this weather. I'm freezing."

Celeste only grinned in response, she didn't care what lighthearted insults the girl threw her way, she was just glad to have her back. Ever since the light-haired girl's return to civilization, the two had been stuck together like glue. This was their second sleepover this weekend alone.

She knew the calm wouldn't last, just like she knew Lydia was going to get over her dismissive behavior towards her nude trek through the preserve. It was only a matter of time before the girl broke down, and Celeste would be with her every step of the way when she did. But for now, she was satisfied to laze around and watch rom-coms with her best friend.

"And yet you're still making your way through that pint of ice-cream just fine," Celeste quipped with a playful smile.

"Shut up," Lydia spoke through a mouthful of Cherry Garcia, brandishing her spoon like a scepter, "I just went through a traumatic experience. I'm entitled to some Ben & Jerry's, thank you very much. Besides, you have no room to talk."

"No judgement here," Celeste shrugged, treating herself to a spoonful of Chocolate Fudge Brownie from her own pint.

"This is nice," Lydia sighed out, flopping down on the bed next to Celeste, "I missed you, like, a lot."

"I missed you too, Lyds," Celeste reciprocated, "Nothing like a couple of near-death experiences to bring people closer together."

"Besides," Lydia countered, "now we both have interesting stories to tell at parties."

Celeste snorted, not the least bit surprised that parties were one of Lydia's most fore-frontal thoughts. The two switched ice cream containers, as they had been doing periodically. They had just settled down to watch The Breakfast Club when Celeste was overcome by a short-circuiting feeling.

Pure terror coursed through her veins, and though it did not feel as though it was her own, the emotion was far too familiar for her liking. Shock tingled within, sparking her from the tips of her toes the follicles of her hair. Adrenaline swelled rapidly through her heart, pumping throughout and into her very blood. Celeste was overcome by a tsunami tide of panic, fear, and anger, and then, like a faint heartbeat, she felt remorse, nearly lifeless, only just there. But it lingered, and she could not get rid of it.

"Celeste," a voice screeched in her ear, and the girl was crushed back into reality, her senses returning to her all at once, in full force.

Her whole body was trembling like she was going through withdrawals, and blood pounded in her ears, making it impossible for her to hear her own thoughts, not that she had any at the moment. It felt as if a tea kettle was whistling shrilly in her mind.

"My Cherry Garcia," Lydia pouted from next to her, and Celeste snapped her gaze down to her hands, where she had squeezed the ice cream pint in her hand with such force that it exploded all over her hands and clothes.

"Shit," Celeste cursed, "I'm sorry. I- I need to go to the bathroom."

Without further ado, Celeste raced towards Lydia's en suite, slamming the door behind her, locking it once she was inside.

Her breath left her body in pants, and her vision blurred. It seemed her body had a mind of its own, her hands crashing around Lydia's various beauty products and cluttering them around.

As if that wasn't enough, Celeste's vision gave out completely, and the ringing in her ears turned to screaming. All she could see colors. Electric blues, emblazoned yellows, and bloody reds.

Then, it all stopped. Celeste fell to the floor in exhaustion, her entire body shining lightly with sweat, and her vision cleared.

Her relief was short-lived, however, when she looked up to see a message scrawled across the mirror in bright red, a lipstick matching the color exactly clattering from Celeste's hand on to the cool bathroom tiles as she took in the words above her.

A canvas painted in black and blue, a whispered word that echoes throughout and etches wounds deeper than bone, a story encased in an icy tomb, a baby bird with broken wings, abandoned.

A flicker of light, dwindling hope, a breathlessness aching throughout, distant memories memorialized, a fire emblazoned by ailments and fueled by rejection, cherry lips ajar with silent screams, weakened.

A shattered past reflecting itself in the cracks of the mirror of one's eye, a yearning with roots ingrained in the earth, a single grain of sand trodden into the ground, lonely.

Solis, Luna, Verum

Celeste had no time to comprehend these words, overcoming by nausea. She crawled on shaky knees to the toilet and promptly regurgitated everything she had eaten in the past day.

"Celeste?" Lydia pounded on the door worriedly, rattling the doorknob incessantly, "What's going on, babe? Let me in."

"I'm fine," she called out weakly, her voice hoarse, "just give me a second, okay?"

"Do you need help?" her friend offered, worry evident in her words.

"No, no I'm good," Celeste wasn't certain of her words, "thanks, I'll just be a minute."

"Okay," Lydia reluctantly backed off, "there's an extra tooth brush under the sink, if you need it."

"Thanks, you're the best," Celeste called out truthfully.

She rose to her feet shakily, flushing the toilet in disgust. Quickly, she took a picture of the mirror with her new phone, Lydia had insisted on her upgrading, and collected herself.

Holding back a groan, Celeste surveyed the damage done in dismay.

Lipstick was a bitch to clean off of mirrors.

☾ ☽

"You really don't remember anything?" Allison demanded of Lydia incredulously, the two of them walking alongside Celeste towards the front entrance of the school.

"They called it a 'fugue' state," Lydia shrugged, "which is basically a way of saying 'we have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked for two days' but, personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds."

Celeste bit her lip in worry, choosing to stay silent. Lydia had been the talk of the school for the past few days, and for once, it wasn't for a good reason. Celeste didn't care in the slightest if people thought she was hanging out with a lunatic, but she knew it would take a toll on her best friend.

"You ready for this?" Allison made her concern more vocal.

"Please," Lydia tilted her head to the side, her eyes flashing dangerously, "it's not like my aunt's a serial killer."

With that, the strawberry blonde pulled open the door and strutted inside.

"It's a self-defense mechanism," Celeste tried to explain Lydia's bitchier-than-usual persona.

Allison simply pursed her lips, and Celeste sighed as they followed Lydia inside, only to be met by a frozen strawberry blonde with the eyes of the entire student body on her.

"Maybe it's the nine pounds," Allison whispered in Lydia's ear.

Lydia remained stationary, her eyes flitting around the hall in trepidation. It broke Celeste's heart to see her usually confident friend under such duress.

"Sam Hardy picks his nose in econ, like, every day," Celeste whispered in her Lydia's ear, who looked at her in confusion.

"One time I borrowed Todd Daniel's phone to look something up in class, and I found old lady porn in his history," Celeste continued, and Lydia's lips twitched in to a smirk.

"Sarah Meadows stuffs her bra, I caught her in the bathroom one time," Celeste was listing off embarrassing facts about people who were now judging Lydia, in hopes of bringing some confidence back.

"Karen Anderson has her boyfriend listed in her phone as 'Daddy'," Celeste tried, and that one got an actual smile from the strawberry blonde.

Lydia reached back to give Celeste's hand a gentle squeeze, as a silent thank you, before straightening her posture, fixing her curls, and strutting off down the hall as if she had somewhere more important to be.

"The bitch is back," Celeste grinned at Allison, who only laughed, linking arms with her and pulling her off to follow Lydia.

☾ ☽

Celeste braced herself against the chill of the winter, making her way out to the lacrosse field. According to the calendar she now kept above her desk, the full moon was tonight, and she wanted to check on Scott.

In her peripheral vision, she spotted a maroon fourteen emblazoned on a white jersey, and she immediately brightened.

"Hey there," she approached Isaac, who turned to look at her, distress evident on his face, "what's up?"

Upon seeing the brunette, Isaac's eyes glazed over, and he inched closer towards her, a little too close for comfort.

"What are you-,"

Celeste's inquiry was cut off by Isaac grabbing her by the waist, pulling her into his chest.

"Isaac, what the hell?" she squirmed uncomfortably in his grip, but the boy only held her closer.

"Isaac, stop," Celeste cried out urgently, seriously creeped out as the curly haired boy began nuzzling into her neck, inhaling deeply.

"Hey, back the hell off," Jackson appeared, grabbing Isaac away from his friend and shoving him.

Celeste looked on in shock, watching her friend stagger slightly before regaining his composure, glaring at Jackson like he was ready to murder him.

Jackson pushed Celeste behind him, and in the distance, Scott and Stiles had noticed what was going on and were rushing over.

Much to her confusion, Matt Daehler was also glaring Isaac down, standing up from his seat on the player's bench.

"It's fine," Celeste brushed off Stiles and Scott's worried looks as they reached the scene, "I'm fine."

"What the hell was he even doing?" Stiles was seething, his knuckles white from how hard he was clenching his fists.

"I don't know," Celeste breathed out, "Scott, your eyes."

Scott's eyes were flashing between chocolate brown and golden yellow, and Celeste could have sworn his sideburns were starting to lengthen.

She grabbed his arm in panic, and almost immediately the werewolf calmed down.

"M'sorry," Isaac mumbled, looking distraught, "I just, I'm sorry."

Celeste looked at the blue-eyed boy in concern, but he just shoved his helmet on and jogged onto the field.

"Did he hurt you?" Jackson demanded, uncharacteristically concerned.

"No, I'm fine, thank you," Celeste looked at him sincerely.

Jackson's jaw clenched, the boy nodding and walking off.

"Are you seriously okay?" Stiles peered down at her in worry, "I can maim him for you. Or, Scott can, I guess."

Scott nodded his agreement.

"I just came out to have a good time and I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now," Celeste huffed, "but yeah, he didn't hurt me, I swear. He just, like, sniffed me."

"He sniffed you?" Stiles blinked.

"Affirmative," Celeste confirmed, "Scott, are you sure you're okay? Is the full moon getting to you?"

"No, it's not that," Scott disagreed with a frown, "there's another werewolf on the team."

"What?" Celeste hissed, "Who?"

"That's what we're about to find out," Stiles shrugged, just as coach blew his little whistle and started shouting for everyone to line up.

Scott jogged to the goalie's net, but Stiles lingered behind.

"Are you positive you're fine?" he fretted, gently cupping her chin and inspecting her face for non-existent injuries, "I can have my dad arrest him or something."

"I promise he didn't hurt me," Celeste laughed off his concern, though she was still a little shaken up.

"Still," the buzz-cut boy grumbled, "I don't like him touching you like that."

"I didn't particularly enjoy it either," Celeste smiled reassuringly, "Now go play your dumb sports."

Stiles hesitated, but with one last once over of Celeste, he squeezed her hand and then made his way onto the field.

"Well that was my testosterone quota for the year," Celeste muttered, letting out a huff of air as she sat down on the bleachers.

Coach blew the whistle, and the first guy in line charged forward to throw. As soon as he made the shot, Scott bolted out of the net and plowed the guy down.

Celeste didn't know a lot about lacrosse, but she was fairly certain the goalie was supposed to stay in the net.

"Freaking werewolves," she groaned, observing as Scott began visibly sniffing his team mate.

This pattern continued with the next two players, and then with Danny.

Celeste wondered chastely if Scott was smelling the Armani aftershave she had gifted to Danny for his birthday.

Jackson was up next, but he exchanged a few words with Finstock before walking off the field.

Celeste frowned at him in suspicion, there was no way he was still recovering from his shoulder injury. Just last week she witnessed him body check a freshman in the school hallway for scuffing his shoe.

Isaac was next in line, and he didn't look like himself. He was hunched over, and Celeste could see him panting from where she was sitting in the bleachers.

Scott crashed into him like his other helpless victims, and the impact was so rough that they were both sent flying into the air.

However, unlike the others, Isaac landed smoothly on his knees, as did Scott, and the two had some kind of intense stare down.

The fiasco was interrupted as Stilinski marched on to the field, looking badass with his shades on and two deputies behind him in a triangle formation.

The sheriff approached coach, speaking with him in hushed tones and nodding towards Scott and Isaac, still in the center of the field.

Finstock nodded, and Stilinski walked over to the two teens, grasping Isaac's shoulder and leading him off the field, away from everyone else.

"Hey," Celeste was a little out of breath from clamoring down the bleachers and running across the field to reach Stiles and Scott, who were now huddled together, "what's happening? Why are they talking to Isaac?"

"His father's dead," Scott spoke grimly, honing in on his supernatural hearing abilities, "they're saying he was murdered."

"What?" Celeste asked, horror evident on her face.

However, deep down, she felt the tiniest flicker of relief, for the sake of her friend's safety.

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Stiles pushed on bluntly.

"I'm not sure," Scott shook his head, "Why?"

"Because they can lock him in a holding cell for twenty-four hours," Stiles elaborated.

Celeste's chest constricted in fear for Isaac, knowing perfectly well that the boy didn't do well in small spaces.

"Like, overnight?" Scott questioned.

"During the full moon," Stiles nodded, and Celeste looked at her friends in confusion.

"How good are these holding cells at holding people?" Scott fretted.

"People: good," Stiles nodded, "Werewolves? Probably not that good."

"Remember when I said I didn't have the urge to maim and kill?" Scott spoke ominously.

"Yeah," Stiles nodded.

"He does."

"Wait," Celeste blinked rapidly, "what are you guys saying?"

"Celeste, Isaac's the other werewolf."

☾ ☽

Celeste sat in chemistry, tapping her pencil nervously on the black surface of her lab table. She glanced over at the empty seat beside her, frowning as she thought of how terrified Isaac must feel.

She was startled as something hit her in the side of the head, and she looked down to see a wad of paper on the floor beside her. She picked it up, glaring at Stiles and Scott, knowing they had done it.

Now was really not the time for a paper ball fight, but if it was war they wanted, it was war they were going to get.

Celeste raised the paper, but halted in surprise as Stiles threw another ball of paper at Harris.

The demon stiffened, turning his head.

"Who in the hell did that?" He seethed.

Scott and Stiles each pointed at each other, and Celeste's eyes widened as Harris' eyes narrowed in on the ball she held in the air.

"You three," he hissed, pointing to the wonder twins and Celeste, "principal's office. Now. Ms. Lune, I expected better from you."

Celeste whined in the back of her throat, shoving her things into her bag grumpily.

"What the hell, guys?" She hissed as soon as they exited the room.

"Sorry," Scott looked at her guiltily.

"We needed to get you out of the room, Jackson's being questioned about Isaac in the principal's office," Stiles explained.

"No, you don't get it," Celeste fretted, running a hand through her black tresses, "I can't get detention. My mom will- she'll freak out."

Celeste felt a lump in her throat, and she knew her eyes were watery. She wasn't a big fan of crying, but the terror of her mother finding out she had gotten in trouble at school was enough to bring her to tears.

She tried so hard to stay out of trouble. She turned everything in on time, got straight A's, she was always respectful to all of her teachers – even Harris –, and she had perfect attendance. She couldn't give her mother another reason to hate her, she couldn't handle that.

"Woah," Stiles' voice softened, and he grabbed Celeste by the shoulders, "hey, I'm sorry. I didn't know it was that important to you. I'm sure your mom will get it."

Celeste closed her eyes, internalizing all the terror she felt, simply adding it to the massive bottle of feelings she contained inside.

She took a deep breath, and plastered on a fake smile.

"You're right," she nodded, "it'll be okay."

If okay meant getting her hand shoved in boiling water.

Stiles looked at her deeply, frowning as he saw through her fake smile. He couldn't push it, though, because Scott was already tugging them along to the chairs outside the principal's.

"What's he saying?" Stiles demanded, hitting Scott's shoulder.

Scott hit him back, shushing Stiles.

"Isaac's father was hitting him," Scott frowned in dismay, "Jackson knew about it, but he never said anything."

Celeste heart was practically beating out of her chest. Sure, she knew and hadn't said anything, but that was to protect Isaac. To think that Jackson knew, and just didn't care, was both shocking and horrifying to the girl.

She actually thought there was a decent person hidden somewhere underneath his harsh exterior, but maybe she had been wrong.

Stilinski and his deputy came out of the office, and Stiles panicked, grabbing a magazine and using it to cover his face.

Celeste groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The sheriff looked so disappointed in his son.

"Hi Scott," he said pointedly, pretending he hadn't seen Stiles, "Celeste."

The two waved at him with awkward smiles.

Stiles put down the magazine as his father left, looking proud of himself.

"Boys," an unfamiliar voice called from the doorway, "Celeste."

The trio turned to face the intimidating form of Allison's grandfather.

"Come on in," he offered, smiling at them calmly.

The three exchanged 'WTF' looks, but filed into the room after the old man nonetheless.

The three sat down in front of his desk, Celeste and Stiles being forced to share a chair due to the fact that there were only two.

The Argent sat down, already having the files of the three students prepared on his desk.

"Scott McCall," he read out first, opening the folder, "academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athlete."

Scott nodded awkwardly.

"Mr. Stilinski," he addressed Stiles next, "oh, perfect grades, but little to no extra-curriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse."

"Oh, actually, I'm already-,"

"Celeste Lune," the principal cut him off, obviously not interested, "perfect attendance, a 5.0 GPA, and it seems this is your first ever offense. Very impressive. Unfortunately, you have no extracurriculars at all. Have you considered joining our track team?"

"I don't sport," Celeste managed to stutter out, obviously very intimidated by the man, not necessarily for his hobbies in hunting, but because of the fact that he held the fate of her next interaction with her mother in his hands. 

Stiles patted her leg for the effort.

"Hold on," the Argent's eyes lit up in recognition, "McCall. You're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter."

"We were dating, but not anymore," Scott rambled, "not dating. Not seeing any of each other, or doing anything with each other. At all."

"Relax, Scott," he seemed amused, "you look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth."

All three teenagers stiffened.

"Just a hard break-up," Scott's eyes darted around the room.

"Oh, that's too bad," the principal spoke, "you seem like a pretty nice kid to me."

Scott gulped.

"Now listen," the man leaned back in his chair, "yes, I am the principal, but I really don't want you to think of me as the enemy."

"Is that so?" Stiles spoke sassily, and Celeste flicked his ear.

"However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So, unfortunately, someone is going to have to take the fall, and stay behind for detention."

Celeste stiffened, an audibly sharp intake of breath making her distress apparent.

"I'll stay," Stiles relented with a single glance at Celeste.

☾ ☽

Scott and Celeste raced through the halls, leaving Stiles behind with an apologetic look and a Reese's stealthily slipped into his pocket by Celeste.

They burst through the front entrance of the school, Celeste going significantly slower than Scott, only to see the police car containing Isaac pulling away.

Celeste made eye contact with the blue-eyed boy from the back of the cruiser, the latter looking both terrified and apologetic. Celeste smiled slightly at him, nodding her head once to signify her forgiveness.

Just as the cruiser pulled away, a familiar black Camaro skidded to a halt in front of them.

"Get in," Derek Hale demanded of them.

"Are you serious?" Scott hissed, "You did that, that's your fault."

"I know that," Derek clenched his jaw, "now get in the car, and help me."

Celeste moved forward, but Scott held her back.

"No, I've got a better idea," Scott threw his arms up, "I'm gonna call a lawyer, because a lawyer might actually have a chance of getting him out before the moon goes up."

"Not when they do a real search of the house," Derek shook his head.

"What do you mean?" Scott asked, and Celeste looked to the ground in worry, knowing exactly what the Hale was talking about.

"Whatever Jackson said to the cops," Derek elaborated, but not really, "What's in the house is worse. A lot worse."

Derek opened the door, and Scott hesitated, glancing at Celeste.

"Go," Celeste nodded, a little choked up, "I'll wait here for Stiles. I'd come with you but I really don't think I can."

Scott frowned in confusion, but complied, getting in the vehicle.

"Those sunglasses make you look like a douche, by the way," Celeste snapped at Derek, who looked at her in regret for a second before driving off.

Celeste watched them go, but her mind was elsewhere.

She thought back to all the times she could have told someone, and all the times he begged her not to. She wondered if he was truly better off with her saying nothing, or if she was simply sharing in the same delusions he was.

The only thing she knew for sure, is that there was no way Isaac would have ever killed his father, werewolf or not.

☾ ☽

"Hold on Alli, yeah, he's coming," Celeste spoke into her phone, spotting Stiles hurrying out of the school towards her.

Celeste put the phone on speaker as Stiles reached her.

"We need to do something right now," Allison spoke into the phone, "They're asking me all these questions about Lydia and how she was bitten by Peter, and then they sent this guy out."

"What guy?" Stiles demanded.

"He was dressed as a sheriff's deputy."

"They're sending him to the station for Isaac," Stiles realized just as Celeste did.

"He was also carrying this box with something on it," Allison continued, "like, um, like a carving or something."

"What was it?" Stiles questioned.

"Hold on, it's somewhere in these books."

There was some rustling on the other end of the line.

"I'm taking a picture," Allison informed them.

Celeste jumped as her phone beeped.

"How did she do that on a call?" Celeste was astounded, "Wait, how do I open it?"

"Oh my god," Stiles sighed, "Give me the phone, you old lady."

Stiles opened the picture, and the two of them exchanged worried glances as a symbol depicting wolfsbane showed up on the screen.

"You get it?" Allison asked.

"Yeah," Stiles said grimly, "Wolfsbane."

"What does that mean?" Allison inquired.

"It means they're gonna kill him."

☾ ☽

"Hey, did you slow him down?" Stiles asked into Celeste's phone, which was on speaker again as Stiles drove them to the station.

"You could say that," Allison replied ominously.

"Did you shoot him?" Celeste asked in excitement.

"I shot him," you could hear the pride in Allison's voice.

"Way to go, Snow White," Celeste grinned despite herself.

"Alright," Stiles took control of the conversation again, "we're headed to the station right now."

"Where's Scott?" Allison asked.

"Isaac's."

"Does he have a plan?" Allison pressed.

"Yeah, but not a very good one," Stiles grimaced, "and unfortunately, we don't have time to come up with anything better."

"His plans are never good," Celeste pointed out.

Stiles hung up the phone without saying goodbye.

"Rude," Celeste huffed.

"How are you feeling?" Stiles asked cautiously, in reference to the full moon being out.

"I feel good," Celeste nodded, "like, really good. Centered, even."

"Oh," Stiles nodded, "well, that's not wolfing out, or trying to kill me."

"I guess I'm not a werewolf, then," Celeste nodded, relief creeping into her tone.

"Have you had any... episodes lately?" Stiles asked hesitantly.

"There's Derek," Celeste evaded his question, pointing to the sidewalk a few blocks from the station.

Stiles frowned at her lack of response, but slid to a stop by the recently turned Alpha werewolf.

Celeste groaned obnoxiously, but clamored into the back of the jeep in a huff, allowing Derek to sit in the passenger seat.

"Hey," Stiles nodded to the older male, but Derek completely disregarded the boy, turning to look at Celeste instead.

"How are you feeling?" Derek inquired, trying to seem as casual as possible.

"What, are you checking up to see if I'm going to wolf out on you because you bit me?" Celeste spoke with as much composure as she could, but on the inside her heart was racing as she waited for his reply.

"We need to talk, soon," Derek avoided answering her question, averting his eyes.

"Yeah, you've said that already," Celeste snapped, "When is soon?"

"As soon as my beta is safe," Derek responded calmly.

"Oh, you mean the teenage boy whose life you just ruined by turning him into a wolf person who goes feral at the sight of the moon?" Celeste sassed back.

"You know why I chose him," Derek growled slightly, but remained otherwise impartial.

Celeste didn't respond, simply looking out the window instead. She knew perfectly well why Isaac would be desperate enough to turn to the bite of a werewolf in order to feel some semblance of control over his own life.

"Okay," Stiles spoke up, obviously feeling very awkward, "we're here, do you want to go over the plan again?"

Both Celeste and Derek stayed silent, glaring out their respective windows like angsty teens in a Taylor Swift music video.

"Well, alright," Stiles sighed at the lack of response, "the keys to every cell are in a password protected lock-box in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk."

"I'll distract her," Derek shrugged, as if it were the obvious solution, and reached for the door.

"Woah, woah, woah," Stiles grabbed his shoulder, "You? You're not going in there."

Derek looked from the hand on his shoulder to Stiles, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"I'm taking my hand off," Stiles backed off.

"I was exonerated," Derek argued.

"You're still a person of interest," Stiles retaliated.

"An innocent person," Derek frowned.

"Debatable," Celeste muttered, still miffed by the Alpha's actions.

However, the hurt look Derek sent her made her wish she had kept her mouth shut.

"You?" Stiles scoffed, "Yeah, right."

Derek growled at him.

"Okay, fine," Stiles was obviously still a little scared of Derek, "what's your plan?"

"To distract her," Derek looked confused at the question.

"Uh-huh," Stiles nodded, "how? By punching her in the face?"

"By talking to her," Derek seemed to be getting agitated.

"Okay, alright," the little gears in Stiles' head were turning, "give me a sample. What are you gonna open with?"

Derek said nothing.

"Dead silence," Stiles nodded sarcastically, "that should work beautifully. Any other ideas?"

"I'm thinking about punching you in the face," Derek was done.

"He's going to flirt with her, dumbass," Celeste was in a sassy mood.

"He's gonna-, wh-, you're going to flirt?" Stiles laughed, "Yeah, I'm sure girls react so well to you growling at them and making death threats."

"Stiles," Celeste leaned between the seats, "have you seen his jawline?"

She gestured to the older male's bone structure, who nodded with a smug look on his face.

"Well," Stiles inspected it, before sighing, "yeah, okay, you're right. Go for it."

The three shuffled out of the car, Stiles and Celeste walking a few paces behind Derek.

The werewolf strode into the building, immediately capturing the attention of the deputy working the front desk.

"How can I help you?" the woman blushed, putting on a shy smile.

"Hi," Derek put on a dazzling smile, one that even Celeste had only seen a number of times.

Celeste put a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing at how weird it was to see Derek flirting, while Stiles looked very grumpy beside her.

"Hi," the girl fluttered her lashes at Derek.

"Uh, I had a question," Derek started, "uh, sorry, I'm a little thrown. I wasn't really expecting someone..."

Stiles tugged Celeste along to the back room, remaining unseen by the star-struck officer.

"Like me?" she suggested.

"Well, I was gonna say someone so incredibly beautiful, but yeah, I guess that'd be the same thing," Derek smiled amicably at her.

Stiles pretended to gag, and Celeste simply rolled her eyes at him as the two entered the sheriff's office.

He rushed to the safe against the wall, pressing in the code.

"They're gone," he groaned.

"What?" Celeste looked at him in panic.

"The keys," he ran a hand over his head, "they're gone."

Celeste held a hand up for him to stop talking, and the two looked at each other with widened eyes as they heard the faint sound of jingling keys in the cell block.

They bolted down the hall, only to run into a deputy.

"Woah," Stiles stammered, "sorry, just looking for-,"

Celeste nudged him gently, her gaze fixed on the arrow shaft sticking out of his leg.

"Ah, shi-," Stiles' interjection was cut off by the "deputy" grabbing him by the neck, pulling him into a headlock.

Celeste panicked as he started dragging Stiles down the hall, and did the only think she could think of: she shoved the shaft of the arrow deeper into his thigh.

The man cried out in pain, releasing Stiles from his hold.

"You little bi-," he was cut off by Stiles pulling the fire alarm, red lights flashing as bells rang shrilly in their ears.

The three looked at each other, before racing to the cell block, both parties competing to reach Isaac first.

Except, Isaac wasn't in his holding cell.

The door to his metal prison was torn off the hinges, and the recently turned werewolf was nowhere to be found.

That is, until he came charging at the hunter at full force.

Stiles pulled Celeste down behind a desk, shielding her from the fight as Isaac snapped the man's wrist in half, the syringe of wolfsbane he was carrying clattering to the ground.

The man slumped to the ground, unconscious, once Isaac slammed his head against the wall, and Derek raced in to the room, slamming down on the glass syringe with his boot.

Celeste let out a breath of relief, but it was short-lived as Isaac spotted the two of them in the corner.

The teen wolf seemed to become even more enraged at the sight of Stiles with his arms around Celeste, letting out a roar and charging forward.

Derek made a move to protect them, but a sense of purpose rushed through Celeste, and without even thinking about it, she stood from the ground and faced the werewolf.

"Isaac, calm down," she spoke, but her voice was not entirely her own.

It sounded like her, only amplified, projecting firmly and surely across the room, seeming to resonate with Isaac, because he shifted back to human, collapsing to the floor.

Celeste breathed out in relief, the surge of power she had felt draining from her body.

After collecting herself, she looked around the room to see all three boys staring at her in shock.

"What?" she frowned, "What's wrong?"

"Celeste," Stiles clenched his jaw in worry.

"Seriously, you're freaking me out," Celeste gulped nervously.

"Your eyes turned silver."

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I'm so excited!! Big things are coming, I mean like, major plot twists and stuff. But GUYS, Celeste's powers are finally starting to show their true magnitude!! I mean, there's a whole lot more development to go, but I'm so proud of her!! Lmao I act like she's real sometimes. Oops.

ANYWAYS how are you doing???? I feel like I haven't asked you that in a while, I'm sorry. I hope you're doing well!! If not, though, that's okay. You'll get there (:

Love you guys & stay hydrated,

-Belle xx