"𝓌𝒽ℯ𝓃 𝒾 𝓉ℴ𝓁𝒹 𝓎ℴ𝓊 '𝒾'𝓂 𝒻𝒾𝓃ℯ,' 𝓎ℴ𝓊 𝓌ℯ𝓇ℯ 𝓁𝒾ℯ𝒹 𝓉ℴ"

The reunion between Malia and her father had evoked tears from numerous people, including Stiles who had adamantly sworn it was only dust. After being undecided on their plan since the beginning, watching her friend see her father again after eight years had been enough for Ophelia to realise that they had done the right thing. Turning Malia back into a human might have been one of the most rewarding experiences she had gone through over her entire seventeen years on Earth. Not only did she help reunite a family, but she gained another side of her friend that she never imagined would have been possible. She could finally be with Malia just like she is with Lydia, Scott, or Stiles.

There's only one problem with that.

"I'm sorry, she what?" The hybrid's eyes narrow in disbelief as she hears Stiles swallow nervously on the other side of the phone, before clearing his throat.

"Yep, um, she's in Eichen," the boy replies hesitantly. He looks up to meet his father's eyes and they both grimace as they wait for her reaction.

"It could just be something wrong with my ears, but I think I just heard you say Eichen."

Noah Stilinski winces. "Uh, yeah, we did."

"Huh. And by Eichen, I'm assuming you mean Eichen House, the mental health hospital that has the most negative reviews on Google I've ever seen in my bloody life? Oh, I'm sorry, the place that would have the most negative reviews on Google if they didn't delete them before anyone could see."

"...Yes?"

She stares at her phone, then her voice raises in incredulity. "And who the fuck thought it would be a good idea to do this? Is Malia even on board with it? Is her dad?"

"Kid, you gotta remember she's been a coyote for eight years. That's eight years out of her own body, away from civilisation- she's been living as a literal animal and needs to transition back into life with humans, whether everyone else knows the supernatural details or not. She needs professional help to be able to process her family's death, her own guilt and grief, and she needs to have it happen within a stable and safe environment," the Sheriff explains to the girl.

Ophelia rolls her eyes at the words 'stable and safe,' but nevertheless huffs a sigh and collapses back onto her mattress. "Fine," she mumbles in defeat. They have a point, and it's not like she's in the position to go up to Henry Tate and debate about why he should remove his daughter from a seemingly world-class psychiatric unit.

"Sorry, did you say something?" Stiles questions.

She groans. "I said, fine!"

The boy scrunches his nose up at her tone of voice. "All right, it's obvious you are so not fine with this, but I'm gonna hang up because I've gotta get stuff ready for tomorrow. This is a reminder of Mischief Night, Fi, 'cause I know you forgot. Again."

"I never-" Ophelia scoffs when the call hangs up. "Love you, too," she grumbles. It's been a long few days. The night's sleep had been strange to say the least. For the first time in almost a month, Ophelia Stone had had over eight hours of sleep without any added troubles of nightmares. She's not sure whether to feel comforted and grateful, or to acknowledge the part of her that is screaming it had happened for a reason.

But eight hours is still eight hours, which means the blonde is the most energetic she has been in a while. It also means that her body is properly recharged, which means she has gained majority of the control over her vampirism back. Hopefully that meant no more glowing eyes the second she stepped into a crowd or wanting to rip into her neighbour's throat as soon as she walks out her front door.

She agrees aloud with herself that she's hungry, and hastily makes her way down the stairs to fill her water bottle up with her daily dose of blood. However, just as she walks past the buffet table in her hallway, she stops in her tracks and back steps. Placed in an elegant, brass frame just like the others beside it is a photograph of herself and Kol both with ear-splitting grins.

Her brother's death had been pushed to the back of her mind the second she had discovered it. Ophelia has tried her best, and succeeded, in pretending that nothing had ever happened in the first place. She likes to think that she's avoided this problem better than Stiles ever could have himself.

What causes the unease to rise within her is that she's never seen this exact photo frame in her house. She never placed it beside the others of her and her family, specifically because she didn't want to look at his face and be reminded how he isn't here anymore. Any trace of Kol had vanished the day she had been told of his death. It was like he had never existed.

Ophelia's head snaps back down the end of the hallway that leads into the kitchen, and her claws begin to unsheathe, just as a precaution. She didn't hear anyone enter, but she knows someone is inside because she can hear their heartbeats. There's two of them. Two heartbeats within her home that are beating at an uncomfortably calm and normal pace for having committed a crime by breaking in.

"No need for the violence, you can put the dog back in her kennel."

She freezes. It's been a while since she last heard that voice in person. Months, at least. Ophelia hurries into the kitchen, and her eyes widen in disbelief at the suited man with his back to her, aimlessly searching through her fridge. "Elijah? What are you doing here? Not that I'm not happy to see you, but-"

"You are aware that it's extremely unsanitary to have raw meat stored above fruit and vegetables without anything covering it, are you not?" The Original hums in disapproval without turning to meet her surprised expression. "Although I'm surprised you're even eating vegetables in the first place."

Ophelia's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Um, thanks?"

"Nothing to fret about, they're of no harm and outside waiting for you."

She folds her arms across her t-shirt and attempts to pick up on a scent. Nothing. "I'm sorry, who? Can you turn the fuck around and tell me what the fuck is happening?"

Elijah shuts the refrigerator door and finally meets the girl's narrowed eyes with the smallest smile on his lips, like he's trying to refrain it from stretching any wider. "Why don't you go and find out."

Her heart begins to beat a little faster, and Ophelia pushes aside the want to hug her older brother. That can wait. She glances back to him before she opens the door to her backyard, and he merely raises an eyebrow for encouragement. The hybrid's eyes set onto a male observing a bed of sunflowers near the fence, and similar to how she had found Elijah, she can only see his back. But Ophelia would know those locks of hair anywhere. He still dresses the same; that same damn jacket, and those shoes that make far too much noise on wooden floorboards. His cologne is of cedarwood and lavender, and of course, just like usual, he's put far too much of it on to the point where it's almost suffocating and masks the scent of his blood.

Kol Mikaelson turns around with a soft smile on his face as he locks eyes with Ophelia's teary ones, and he opens his arms for her to run into them. "Long time no see, little sister," he whispers.

Her bottom lip wobbles as she tries to keep herself from breaking down into ugly tears. However, as soon as she speeds forward to be engulfed into a suffocating hug, all form of self-control vanishes; the dam opens, and the tears come flooding. She opens her mouth several times, but each one, she can't form a coherent sentence. Instead, she clenches her jaw and roughly shoves her brother away from her. "What the fuck, Kol?"

"What?" The man's eyes are wide in confusion as he studies her demeanour that is entirely different than the relieved one a few seconds ago. "Okay, I thought this was going to go similarly to the hug, not you-"

She strides forward to roughly punch his nose, taking a step backward when the action results in a satisfying crunch. Ophelia suppresses her smile as she hears Elijah's loud gasp of shock from the kitchen.

"Fi! What the fuck?"

"No, you bastard! You died," she yells in rage. Kol swallows, and he begins to understand the direction where this conversation is heading in. "You knew you were dying, and you didn't tell me anything. No, that's not even what I'm pissed at." Her irises begin to glow, and the Original shuts his eyes as he braces himself to be on the receiving end of another violent attack. But he tenses further when her words come out as a heartbroken whisper. "You knew and you didn't say goodbye," Ophelia states. Her voice cracks, and both vampires' hearts break at her visible despair.

"Yeah, I know," he responds quietly. His head is hung low in disappointment. "I would say sorry, but I know that's not going to do much."

"Damn right it won't." She slumps down on the concrete bench seat and stares up at him, another fresh wave of tears lining her eyes. "Just-Just why? Why didn't you?"

Kol softly sighs as he sits beside her. The garden is silent for a few moments, save aside from a few sparrows chirping amongst the trees. "Because I didn't know how to tell you. I knew if I said I was dying and there was nothing anyone could do about it, you would have gone off the rails."

She scoffs. "Wow, you've got some built up idea of how much I love you." He raises his eyebrows at her. "Yep, okay, maybe that would've happened..."

"It would've been like a few months before when you turned it off. I couldn't be the reason that would happen again." He purses his lips together. "I didn't want to give you a heads up, because a heads up would mean you would overthink things. So, I thought it would be easier for both of us if I just... I just died."

An exhausted sigh leaves Ophelia's lips, and she shuffles closer to him to drop her head onto his shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't go off the rails. Actually, almost the opposite."

This time, he's the one to scoff. "I can tell you love me so much."

She cracks a small smile, and he widely grins. "I guess I thought if I just pretended nothing happened, you wouldn't actually be gone, you know?" He nods in understanding. She swallows the lump in her throat and quickly brushes the tear off her cheek. "I missed you so much."

Kol wraps an arm around her shoulder and tightly pulls her into his side. "I know, I missed you too. So much. But I was here the whole time, well, most of the time. The one good thing about death was the Other Side."

She tilts her head to look at him in surprise. "Really? You saw the whole ritual thing?"

"Oh, yeah, that was idiotic. Stupidly reckless and irresponsible."

"Are you fucking kid-"

"But any one of us would've done the exact same thing for you." He smiles at her. "You were so brave. I'm so proud of you, Lia."

The girl sniffles. "I'm just glad you're back," she murmurs. Her back straightens and she whistles for Elijah to come outside. "'Lijah, get your pompous ass out here!"

The man appears in a millisecond with a scowl. "I'm not a dog you can merely whistle to come at your every beck and call."

Kol snorts. "You just proved yourself wrong on that." The hybrid snickers.

"I'm almost wishing you were dead again," Elijah deadpans. Though both of his siblings can tell he doesn't mean it, they're able to detect the hint of playfulness in his voice.

Ophelia grins. She's missed the family banter. "So, how did you come back?" Both males share a look with one another. "No, don't do that. I know what that was, you both communicating with each other on how much to tell me."

Kol lightly punches her shoulder. "Shut up." He sighs at her blank face. "Davina. She found a way."

"Ah, the witchy girlfriend?"

"Don't start," Elijah grumbles.

"Oh, so I should move on to your love life?" Ophelia shrieks when a nearby ceramic plant pot is suddenly hauled in her direction, and she quickly ducks out the way as it shatters against the fence behind her. "All right, got the point! So, nobody likes Davina?"

Kol rolls his eyes. "Long story about petty rivalries and grudges that no one has enough time for."

"Let me guess, Nik?" Both men hum in agreement. "I'm shocked. How is he?"

"Still an egotistical prick who wants nothing more than to show the world his ever growing, mass of power," the youngest brother answers, mimicking the Original hybrid's voice. Elijah stifles a laugh. "But he sends his love."

"Ah, so he's having a good month then?"

"Well, it's rather complicated back in New Orleans right now." The suited man sighs at her pointed look to tell her everything. "Let's just say a sire link was broken, and now Niklaus' incredibly long list of enemies want to come and present us with his head on a silver platter."

Ophelia hums. "What's new?" Her jaw falls open a second later. "Sire link? Hold up, that means if he dies, I don't?" She coughs into her fist. "Sorry, I mean, that's terrible, you all must be swarmed with vengeful vampires."

Elijah rolls his eyes. "More or less. But once again, what's new?"

Kol pats the girl's leg with a smile. "And how are you? Much going on in this place?"

"Good," she answers, plastering on a smile. "The usual. Turning coyotes back into teenage girls, trying not to drastically fail school further than I already am, that sort of business." Ophelia had made a split-second decision not to tell her family about her current mental status and her own problems occurring. After hearing about the troubles back home and how grave they are, she figures her siblings don't need any added stress about herself whilst worrying about how to prevent multiple deaths in the family.

Elijah squints his eyes at the girl, but if he doesn't believe her, he doesn't show it. "I'm glad to hear it, and I'm not going to comment on the school part. Oh, before I forget, Hayley told me to show you this of Hope. Don't worry, both them and Niklaus are well out of New Orleans with a cloaking spell so nobody can find them and deliver said mentioned head to the rest of us."

As Ophelia smiles at the photograph of her baby niece between Hayley Marshall and her brother, she feels a slight pang in her heart. Since Freya and Klaus had left a month ago, she hadn't realised just how much she had missed being within the company of her family. But then she thinks about the people keeping her in Beacon Hills, and she remembers that she's made a new one. The people here are her second family, and right now, they need her just as much as she needs them.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

An alarm had been set for an ungodly hour in the morning, so early that Ophelia had given in to her anger and crushed her clock in the palm of her hand. "Curse Stiles and our stupidly amazing pranks," she mutters as she slams the door of her car.

Finding out her brother was alive had lifted a not so invisible weight off her shoulders. She still remains on edge, but she's waking up dealing with one less problem than she was yesterday. After a wholesome dinner with Kol and Elijah, the pair had left almost straight after with the intentions of getting back to New Orleans as fast as possible to deal with their own dilemmas. They had promised that although the visit was short, another was due as soon as possible and that the entire family would be there, hopefully all still alive.

For the rest of the foreseeable future until her family is no longer in jeopardy, Ophelia would be on her own. Without a doubt she knows someone would drop everything at a hat to help her if they knew of the consequences the ritual had come with, but then girl thinks of the groups of people hellbent on killing her family and she knows she made the right decision not telling them. This is something she needs to deal with by herself and with her friends that are experiencing the same.

But without any of her own hallucinations since Friday in the school bathroom, perhaps things are finally on the way up. Malia is safe, Stiles had regained his ability to read after saving Lydia from a bear trap in the Preserve, and his father had successfully retained his position as Sheriff of Beacon Hills. But similar to her view on the nightmares, she can't help but be paranoid and think that there's a reason things are going so positively.

Wrapped up in her own thoughts, Ophelia isn't aware of Scott quickly approaching her, and she shrieks in alarm when he touches her arm. Her first instinct is to slap him, and the boy yelps out in pain as he clutches his cheek. "Fi, what the hell?"

She grimaces apologetically. "Shit, I didn't see you, sorry..."

He chuckles at her as they continue walking, the werewolf holding the door open for her as they enter the high school and walk toward where they know Stiles is impatiently waiting. "You okay?"

She glances over to him and nods. "At this very second, yeah. You?"

Scott softly sighs. "Same. Get any sleep?"

"No, because someone decided it would be a good idea to do this shit at twelve-thirty in the bloody morning."

"Trust me, we've done this every year, and it's worth it every fucking time."

"Because of Coach?"

He gives her a pointed look. "Obviously because of Coach. Was this your idea or his?"

Ophelia grins. "Well, I've had a little practice with thousands of year old vampires, so fuck yeah this was my idea. Okay, most of it... I wanted to destroy the office, and Stiles ended up doing all the boring engineering parts, so I actually have no clue what he's planning. But the result of it can't get much worse than being stabbed a bunch of times."

The werewolf grimaces. "Yeah, I think you're underestimating how pissed Coach can get." The two chuckle quietly until one of their phones vibrates silently with a call. He holds the screen up to her and she rolls her eyes at the contact name. As soon as Scott answers, they are greeted with their friend's voice.

"Get your ass down here now! We have a job to do, and Fi's forgotten despite me reminding her a zillion times yesterday."

She nods and quietly whispers, "He did, I think he somehow set reminders in my phone."

"Like, this was sort of her idea in the first place, and she doesn't even turn up for the fucking thing!"

Scott muffles his chuckles by pressing his lips together. "Dude, I'm already in bed! You know her, she probably has her phone on 'Do Not Disturb.'" The girl shrugs. "And aren't we getting a little old for this...?" Just to sell it, he loudly yawns.

"We do this for Coach!" Stiles exclaims back passionately.

The pair share a smile as they pass empty classes while walking down to the locker room. "I thought we did this to Coach," Scott replies.

The Stilinski scoffs. "Whatever, okay? You know he needs this. He lives for this stuff! You know? He loves it!"

"Sure he does, bud," Ophelia murmurs.

"But it's the middle of the night," Scott protests, both his and the hybrid's eyes glowing to help them navigate through the school in pitch black.

"Twelve-fifteen actually," the boy corrects, a loud clang following his words. "Which means it's after midnight and officially Mischief Night-slash-Day." A drill whirrs in the background and Ophelia's eyes widen. "And, by perfectly awesome coincidence, it also happens to be Coach's birthday. So, if you are not down here in five seconds, with Fi or not, I will destroy you, okay? Not her, 'cause she scares the living fuck out of me." The girl grins as Scott gives her an amused expression as they quietly approach their friend. "And I mean five, four, three, two-"

He turns around with his phone still at his ear, only to flinch at the pair of glowing eyes staring at him as Scott emerges from the shadows. Stiles yelps in terror and collapses onto the ground as he tries to distance himself away from the creature, not registering that it's his best friend just yet. "One," the werewolf finishes with a proud grin.

"I hate you," Stiles states bluntly from the ground, trying to catch his breath. Just before Ophelia can begin to feel sympathetic for him, she catches Scott's eyes as she sneaks up behind the human and the McCall widely grins as he realises what she's about to do. Stiles' face drops further. "What are you smiling about? Scott, why are you smiling? Should I-"

"Hi," she whispers.

A scream leaves his parted lips and the boy scrambles away from the hybrid who has just spoken while standing directly behind him. Both supernatural teenagers giggle with one another, whilst the Stilinski doesn't find the situation even remotely amusing. "Why the fuck would you do that?" Stiles yells out, moving forward to shove the girl back a step. "I'm going to-"

Ophelia raises an eyebrow at him questioningly, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "Destroy me? But I thought you wouldn't because I 'scare the living fuck out of you'?"

His face falls once more as he realises she must've heard the call, and a scowl quickly appears. "I'm de-friending both of you immediately. We are no longer friends."

Scott stifles his laughter as the boy storms off into Coach's office with his drill and black duffle bag in hand. "Hate's a strong word!"

"I hate you both! Hate!"

Running after him, Ophelia rummages through her tote bag to pull out two thermos bottles. "Truce?" Stiles immediately freezes and turns around to her sceptically, his eyes narrowing at the containers. She sighs and motions for Scott to come over. "I bought some hot chocolate. But if you don't want any-"

One is greedily snatched out of her hands, the other offered to Scott who takes it gratefully. Both boys inhale the smell of the cocoa, however, the werewolf's eyebrows furrow slightly as he takes another sniff of the liquid. After a second, he shrugs, and the pair happily take a sip.

Only to immediately spit it out onto the floor in repulse.

"You just drank cement!" Ophelia's voice booms out, quickly followed by her bending over with howls of laughter.

"I'm going to kill you," Stiles deadpans. Scott stares at her blankly.

She continues to giggle until Stiles grabs hold of his drill once more and charges at her with it whirring away. Their shrieks of laughter echo through the high school, none aware of the terror and overwhelming anxiety the rest of the day would bring them.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Approximately seven and a half hours later, Ophelia is back at school. She had ended up going home with Stiles after they had finished setting up Coach's prank, and both teens had gotten a few hours sleep each. With her head resting on the window of her passenger side, the girl plays with the necklace she had received yesterday from her brothers. It's a simple silver chain that hangs just below her collarbones with a wolf as the pendant. It's a simple reminder of who she would always be. Even though she's half vampire, she had been a werewolf since birth. It's her true nature. Although it's slightly humorous that her family of Original vampires are gifting her something like this, she appreciates the sentiment more than they would ever know.

"It's pretty," Stiles comments softly, his eyes momentarily glancing over to her before returning to the road.

Ophelia gives him a smile. "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

The boy is quiet for a few moments. "Do you ever think about leaving?"

Her eyes widen in surprise, not expecting the conversation to take a turn down this particular road. "What? Leaving? To go where?"

"To be with your family. You know, leave Beacon Hills and go to them. They always seem to be in some sort of feud with each other, or some catastrophic war with some super all powerful being."

She chuckles lightly. "Yeah, they do." Her eyebrows furrow slightly as she turns in her seat to study his expression. It's clear that as much as he is trying to hide it, Stiles has become more emotional than a minute prior. "I've thought about it a couple of times."

"Oh," he mutters.

"But then I thought about if I did leave, I don't know how long I'd be able to survive without any of you. Like, as much as I love them, my family is a royal pain in the ass." He laughs. "Stiles, you guys keep me sane. You aren't just my friends anymore; you've become my second family." She places her hand over his that is resting on the gear stick. "You're not getting rid of me any time soon."

The boy breathes out a small sigh of relief. "Okay, good, because you're what's keeping us all alive." He shakes his head when she smiles. "No, seriously, we'd all be dead without you," he adds bluntly.

Ophelia clicks her tongue in disagreement. "No, we'd all be dead without you, Sherlock." There's no time for him to come up with a rebuttal like he wants as the Jeep finally comes to a stop in the parking lot. The hybrid's eyes widen as she quickly finds Scott stepping off his dirt bike, then her nostrils flare at who she finds parking next to him. "All right, keep your cool, but Things One and Two just got to wolfie."

Stiles' eyebrows furrow as he looks to her. "Huh?"

"Things One and Two," she repeats. "Ethan and Aiden. Wolfie is obviously Scott."

"Oh," he replies in understanding. His eyes widen as he follows her pointed finger to the three werewolves. "Oh." The pair jump out the car with their bags and quickly beeline over to their best friend who is now in conversation with the twins.

"You're back in school?" Scott questions the boys.

"No, just to talk," Ethan answers him calmly.

"Oh! That's kind of a change of pace for you guys," Stiles remarks in surprise. "Usually, you're just hurting, maiming, and killing." He gestures to the hybrid when she joins them with her arms folded, narrowed eyes boring into Aiden who matches her glare. "Hey, just like Ofi!"

She turns her scowl onto her friend. "Don't compare me with them."

Aiden rolls his eyes. "You need a pack," he tells Scott. "We need an Alpha."

Ophelia snorts. Stiles nods in agreement with her unsaid words. "Yeah. Absolutely not. That's hilarious though."

Ethan takes a deep breath. "You came to us for help," he reminds the McCall. "We helped."

"You beat his face into a bloody pulp," Stiles corrects in exasperation. "That's not helping. In my opinion, that's actually counter-productive."

Aiden's eyes narrow further as he glares daggers into the side of the hybrid's face, recalling how she had broken his nose last week. Once she meets his stare, she grins at him tauntingly. Scott rolls his eyes at their interaction. "Why would I say yes?"

"There is no possible answer they could give why you would," Ophelia states while placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Also, last time I checked, I'm also an Alpha. So, by saying Scott needs a pack and I don't, well, it's kind of insulting."

Ethan raises an eyebrow at her. "So you'd be happy with us joining your pack?"

She quickly makes a face of disgust. "Oh, fuck no. Never mind, I didn't say anything." Stiles presses his lips together to stop himself from laughing.

"We'd add strength," Aiden points out to Scott. "We'd make you more powerful. There's no reason to say no." Ophelia laughs through her nose as she witnesses Stiles perform possibly the most dramatic eye roll she has ever seen.

Having heard majority of the conversation, both Isaac and Boyd walk up to the group for the former to say, "I can think of one. Erica's dead because of them." Stiles begins to nod furiously.

Boyd hums in agreement. "Yeah, you know, why aren't we slashing their throats right now?"

Ophelia tilts her head to the side as she watches Aiden flash his eyes a vibrant blue and reveal his canines. "You want to try?" he threatens.

Isaac briefly glances over to his best friend and both boys take a step toward the former Alpha with confident and smug demeanours. Scott's eyes widen as he looks to Ophelia, silently pleading with her to grab one of them before they start a supernatural fight club out the front of the high school. Realising that her friend is right and that this could only end in someone's death (hopefully Aiden's), the girl reaches out to tightly grab onto Boyd's wrist, whilst Scott takes Isaac's. They both look at the Alphas and take hesitant steps backward, Boyd rolling his eyes while the smirk on Isaac's face doesn't falter.

Turning back to the twins, Scott politely says, "I'm sorry, but they don't trust you. And neither do I."

The four males walk off toward their lockers, whilst Ophelia hangs behind. "It's fairly obvious that I don't trust you," she points out whilst holding Aiden's eye contact. "You on the other hand..." She turns to Ethan. "I don't picture your incredibly violent death as much, so you're not as bad. Now go bother someone else before I rip one of your heads off." She waves her hand at them. "Shoo."

It takes the girl half a minute to catch up to the boys, finding that Isaac and Boyd have departed along the way to go to their own lockers that happen to be, unfortunately, on the opposite side of the building. Jogging up to the pair, Ophelia grabs the door before it can shut behind Stiles, causing the boy to whip his head around and raise an eyebrow at her. "Did you threaten them? Please tell me you threatened them."

"Yep."

Scott's eyes widen as he glances back. "You did what?"

Before the werewolf can question her any further, they are distracted by Stiles getting hit in the head with a toilet roll. With a scowl, the boy glares at the person who had thrown it. "All right, that's my face!"

Ophelia taps his cheek with a frown. "Shame. The bruise is going to take away all your beauty," she says sarcastically.

Stiles slaps her hand away, causing both herself and Scott to break into laughter. "Fuck off." He turns over to Scott and claps his back with praise. "Anyways, good decision, buddy. Good Alpha decision."

"Yeah, you made the right Alpha Mc-Call."

The pair immediately stop walking to stare at the girl who places her hand over her mouth as she giggles. Scott's face is blank as he deadpans, "Seriously?"

She continues to snicker at her own joke. "I had to!"

"It was terrible," the werewolf critiques. "If you ever say something like that again I will punch you."

Both Ophelia's and Stiles' eyes widen as they share a look with one another whilst Scott continues on walking. "Did he just-"

"I think he did," the Stilinski whispers back in shock, still processing that his best friend had actually threatened someone.

"Is he okay?" Ophelia murmurs back in concern, their arms now linked through one another as they trail behind the boy who wears an extremely unimpressed expression.

Stiles grimaces. "I don't know, but I have a feeling he'll stay true to it. By the way, I thought it was good."

"Thank you," she exclaims in appreciation. When they finally reach Stiles' locker, Scott is waiting, leaning against a nearby one and staring off into the distance. Ophelia's eyes narrow as she turns around and follows his line of sight, a smirk quickly lifting at her lips. "What are you looking at, Scotty?"

Scott's eyes widen as he glances to her, momentarily shifting his gaze off Kira who picks up her textbooks on the floor that she has dropped. "Huh? Who? What?"

"I said, what are you looking at?" Observing him return to staring at Kira in a dazed like state, she clicks her fingers in front of his face. "Okay, lover boy, can we focus for a few seconds?"

Stiles' eyebrows raise and finally turns his attention onto his friends as he continues unpacking the contents of his backpack into the locker. "Oh, we're talking about Kira, right?"

"Obviously."

Scott's eyes widen. "What? What about her?"

"For fuck's sake," Ophelia mumbles in frustration. "She's cute, like, very cute, don't you think?"

Stiles places an empty egg carton into his locker and nods at the werewolf. "You like her?"

"No," Scott quickly denies. "I mean... Yeah, yeah, she's okay," he stammers out with a nod. "She's new."

Ophelia hums in understanding. "That's right, you were with Allison... You must have a kink or something for new girls."

Stiles snorts in amusement, while Scott rolls his eyes. "Shut up."

"So, just ask her out," the Stilinski suggests simply.

"Now?"

The blonde groans. "Yes, Scott! Right now! Go do it before I steal your girl for myself!"

Stiles raises his eyebrows. "You like like Kira?"

"No! But like I said before, she's cute."

"Okay, but now now?" Scott continues, completely missing their side conversation as he watches Kira walk off down the hallway.

Stiles sighs and slams his locker shut. "Yes, now!"

"Right now?"

"Right now," his friends chorus together in annoyance.

"I don't think you get it yet," Stiles begins as they walk down the hallway. "You're an Alpha, okay? You're the apex predator. Everyone wants you." He nods encouragingly as Scott stops in his tracks, slowly processing the words of his best friend.

Ophelia arches a brow. "Does that apply to me too?"

"Not now, Fi," Stiles mutters to her. She makes an O shape with her mouth once she glances over to Scott. "You know? You're like the hot girl that every guy wants."

The McCall lifts his head in confusion. "The hot girl?"

She bites onto her lip to stop herself from grinning when Isaac joins them, his expression morphing into one of confusion as he glances between the two boys.

"You are the hottest girl!" Stiles gives him a soft, encouraging smile before walking off to their next class, leaving the three supernatural teenagers behind.

Leaning over to the hybrid, Isaac whispers, "What's going on?"

"Just play along," she murmurs.

"I'm the hot girl," Scott states in disbelief.

Ophelia and Isaac share a look, before they both firmly nod at him. "... Yes, you are," the Lahey confirms.

"You're the hottest girl I've ever seen," she adds reassuringly.

A wide, beatific smile adorns Scott's face as his eyes flick between his two friends, before he giggles to himself and walks off in Stiles' footsteps. The remaining pair watch him skip off, then lock eyes with one another and burst into laughter.

"What the fuck just happened?"

"I don't know, but I loved it so much."

After separating from Isaac, Ophelia enters the economics classroom with a mischievous smile displayed on her face. She slips into the seat in between Scott and Stiles and drums her fingers impatiently on the desk as she waits for the class to begin. Stiles leans over to her to quietly say, "I still think we should've done something else as well."

Her eyes light up. "Well, I've always wanted to put pepper spray into eyedrops before. Do you reckon he has some of those here? It would only take a sec to do."

Scott's eyebrows raise in surprise. "Why do you have pepper spray on you?"

"Scotty, I may be one of the most powerful beings on this planet, but I still like to have a little fun time to time." The two boys chuckle at the elation laced in her words, and then suddenly the entire room falls silent as a loud laugh of disbelief is heard from behind the door at the front leading into the office. Ophelia clasps her hands together. "It's starting," she whispers in excitement. Seconds later, multiple deafening crashes reach their ears.

"Son of a bitch!"

At Coach Finstock's scream of rage, the three teenagers who had constructed the prank all look to each other with delight, various volumes of laughter leaving their mouths. "And there it is," Stiles says with pride.

The man storms into the classroom and scowls at his students who are all chuckling, then slams the door in fury. "Mischief Night, Devil's Night. I don't care what you call it. You little punks are evil," he snaps. Someone laughs. "You think it's funny, every Halloween my house gets egged?" Ophelia refrains herself from exclaiming 'Yes.' "A man's house is supposed to be his castle." Coach slams his hands down on Scott's desk, much to Stiles' obvious joy. "Mine's a frickin' omelette!"

Ophelia turns around to see Lydia watching with boredom from the back of the room, and when their eyes finally meet, the strawberry blonde can't help but match her friend's wide smile after realising what role she had played in the last few minutes.

"Oh, this?" Coach turns around to immediately spot the perfectly wrapped present atop of his desk. "We're gonna do this again?"

Scott glances to both of his friends on either side of him, all three sharing equal confusion. He lowers his voice to whisper to the hybrid, "You didn't...?"

"No," she murmurs back. "I have no idea what's going on."

"I don't think so!" The gift is carelessly dropped to the floor, and Stiles' Cheshire grin of glee somehow widens when the man violently stomps his foot atop of it. Whatever is inside instantly shatters. Coach's eyes widen slightly as he looks out to his entertained class before bending down to observe exactly what he has just broken. Picking up one of the larger pieces of the ceramic mug, he shakes his head and takes the envelope that was attached. "'Happy birthday. Love, Greenberg...'"

Ophelia clears her throat and innocently smiles at him. "Oh, yeah, happy birthday, Coach!"

"Thanks, Stone. Means a lot. You're the only person in here who wouldn't pull this kind of crap."

She forces herself not to cackle from the looks of incredulity Stiles and Scott give her, and she beams up at the man, taking advantage of the clear favouritism. "Aw, no worries, Coach."

"What the fucking fuck?" Stiles hisses once the teacher is no longer in earshot. "It was kinda your idea in the first place!"

Ophelia shrugs at him with a small, guiltless smile playing at her lips. "Like he said, I'm the only person in here who wouldn't pull this kind of crap." Her foot taps away on the floor as Coach suspiciously looks around the area of his desk for anything else.

"All right, which one of you maniacs is responsible for this?" The man holds up a bright yellow post-it-note that has something written on it. "'What word of five letters has only one left when two letters are removed?' What is this crap? A guessing game? Everyone knows I hate riddles."

Stiles tilts his head to the side. "Do we though?"

"Stilinski, shut it."

The class is silent for a few seconds as a few students try to figure out the answer. "Money, stone, alone," Lydia calls out without looking up from her phone.

Coach points a finger at her. "Let's go with money, that seems like something you lunatics would steal. You know what, this is kind of fun," he mutters to himself. The man peers underneath the desk and under his chair, then proceeds to cautiously open the drawers beside him.

Stiles and Scott both share a puzzled look with one another. "Did you...?"

"No..." Both boys whip their heads to the girl seated in between them who is now casually redoing her mascara with the help of the camera in her phone. "Fi," Scott says urgently. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," she answers nonchalantly. "Like we've already learnt, I'm the last person here who would ever dare stoop to a level as low as pulling a prank."

"That's not exactly what he said," Stiles mutters to himself.

"Who the fu-hell put my wallet in Jell-O? Greenberg, you're done! I'm getting you suspended. Screw that, I'm get you expelled!"

Giggling to herself with glee, Ophelia smiles charmingly at her two best friends who now mimic each other's expressions of awe. "That's how it's done, boys." She turns around to look at Lydia again, only to frown in confusion as she observes the girl mindlessly swatting at the air around her whilst still scrolling on her phone.

bestie ♡

Hey, what are you doing?
Did you see my prank

no sorry
there's a fly

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"William Barrow," Stiles repeats.

Ophelia raises a brow at the boy as she maintains his fast pace, Lydia, Allison, Isaac and Boyd catching up behind. "Dude, you're going to need to say more than 'William Barrow' to get a reaction out of me."

"Right, I forgot you don't know much about this place, or care..."

Lydia huffs a small sigh. "He set off a shrapnel bomb in a school bus, it killed a few kids." The blonde's only visible reaction is the slight widening of her eyes. "Obviously, he went to prison for manslaughter, but-"

"But they needed to perform surgery on him yesterday," the Stilinski finishes off, missing the annoyed look the strawberry blonde sends his way. "So, he's now out of prison. And by out of prison, I mean he escaped during the surgery this morning, and now somewhere nearby is a fugitive."

"All right."

Isaac's expression morphs into one of disbelief as he looks at the hybrid. "Did you just say, 'All right' when learning a mass murderer was spotted nearby?"

"I think that's her version of saying 'I'm a mass murderer myself, so it doesn't really bother me,'" Boyd points out.

Ophelia waves a hand to acknowledge him. "Precisely! You're all forgetting you're friends with a serial killer. Plus, if he comes near any of you, I'll just kill him myself."

Stiles' face pales as if he had forgotten said fact up until she had mentioned it. "Right. Anyways, I just spoke to my dad... Apparently Barrow said he bombed the bus because he saw one of the kids had glowing eyes."

Isaac's eyes widen with worry. "Barrow said he went after kids with glowing eyes? He said those exact words?"

"Yeah," Stiles confirms seriously. "And no one knows how he woke up from the anaesthesia. Just that when they opened him up, they found a tumour full of live flies, which in any other circumstance would be all kinds of awesome."

Ophelia makes a face of disgust. "Your version of awesome is very different to mine..." She hesitates when she notices she can no longer hear Lydia's heels clicking on the floor. Turning around, she raises her eyebrows questioningly. "You okay?"

The banshee's eyes are trained on Stiles as she asks, "Did you say flies?"

"Lydia?"

The girl takes a deep breath. "All day, I've been hearing this sound," she stresses. "It's like... this buzzing."

Ophelia's eyes narrow slightly as she walks toward her friend, the rest of the group not far behind her. "Like back in class when you said there was a fly?"

Lydia nods. "Exactly. I've been hearing flies."

The blonde grabs onto her friend's hand. "I think now's a good time to remember whatever Freya told you about this shit. We're gonna banshee the fuck out of this."

"Okay, um, let's all split up and find out what the fuck's going on," Stiles suggests, waving a hand around the empty corridors. "Someone go find out what the police are doing, and I'm gonna go find Scott."

Ophelia gives him a nod as she looks over to Allison, Isaac and Boyd. "I'll take Lyds and go find the cops, you guys help Stiles."

Jogging down the empty hallways that are filled with the occasional student or two, Lydia begins to quickly recite off all the facts about banshees she had learnt recently from the Mikaelson witch. "It could be an auditory premonition. She said they're like hallucinations but we hear things instead of seeing something, and it can be a sign of how someone's about to die."

The hybrid blows out a breath. "Right, okay, so..." She grimaces. "Death by flies? Not the coolest way to go out." She catches her friend's obvious anxiety and gives her hand a comforting squeeze. "We'll figure it out, Lyds, I promise. I'm right here."

The strawberry blonde's lips lift into a weak smile. "Thanks," she whispers. As the girls turn a corner, they both stop at what they find to the right. "Wait, why are the police leaving?" Lydia questions with confusion.

Ophelia's eyebrows furrow as she watches the group of deputies and adults with FBI badges exit out the double doors of the building. "I don't know much about law enforcement, but usually when there's a murderer running about, you don't turn in the opposite direction of him..." It doesn't take the pair long to run into Scott and Stiles, finding them just around the corner. Ophelia's eyes light up at the sight of the werewolf. "'Bella, where the hell have you been, loca?'"

Scott's eyes flick between her and Lydia, his face blank in confusion. "Huh?"

Stiles takes a large step away from his best friend like Scott has just violently slapped him across the face. "I'm sorry, have you not seen Twilight?"

"No...?"

The Stilinski scoffs. "Unbelievable, Scott. Unbelievable," he hisses.

Lydia rolls her eyes impatiently. "Look, the police are leaving," she states. "Why are the police leaving?" Stiles' demeanour instantly switches from disappointment to alarm.

Scott glances between the three and voices his lack of understanding. "The police?"

"You've missed a lot," Ophelia tells him.

"They must have cleared the building and grounds, which means he's not here," Stiles deduces.

"Who? What are you guys-"

A heavy sigh leaves Lydia's cherry red lips. "He has to be here," she exclaims. Stiles' eyes flick over to Ophelia, and she nods in support of her best friend. "That sound... The buzzing I've been hearing? It's getting louder."

The hybrid's frown deepens with worry. "Love, how loud are we talking?" Lydia's eyes screw shut in visible pain and the girl winces as she subconsciously grips onto Ophelia's hand tighter. "Yeah, we need to find this guy before she gets a migraine."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Hot on Stiles' heels, Ophelia races down the flights of stairs with the boy to catch up to his father. "Dad! Dad!"

Noah glances over his shoulder at the two teens. "Yeah?"

"You can't leave yet," the blonde protests firmly.

Once they reach the ground, the man turns to the pair. "Guys, we got an eyewitness that puts Barrow by the train station..." Stiles and Ophelia share a brief look, both thinking that something mustn't add up if Lydia is adamant that the bomber is still on the grounds.

"Let's go, Stilinski!"

The girl's eyes narrow at Rafael McCall. "Why the fuck is this guy still alive? I don't think I've ever wanted to kill someone more."

As Noah gives her a disapproving look, he turns around to follow the group of people beckoning for him. "Woah, woah," Stiles calls out. "Dad, please just..." His father stops. "Lydia said that he's still here."

With a sudden concern, the man strides back over. "Did she see him?"

"Not exactly."

"Well, not at all actually. But she has a feeling."

"Very strong feeling."

"A very strong supernatural feeling."

Noah's eyes squint as he looks between the two, then over to the side where the female in mention is leaning against a locker waiting for her friends. He returns his gaze to his son in confusion. "Lydia wasn't on the chessboard."

Ophelia nods in understanding, being aware of the way Stiles had explained the supernatural world to his father a few weeks ago by marking what their friends are on various pieces from the game. She's proud to say that, hilariously, she's the king and Derek is the queen. "She is now," Stiles counters.

"Kanima?"

The hybrid's eyes widen in horror. "No! Do not ever say that word in association with her."

Stiles grimaces at her reaction, knowing that she immediately associates the creature with Jackson. "Um, banshee," he corrects his father.

Noah looks up to the sky and groans. "Oh, God..."

"I know, I know how it sounds. But basically, it means that she can sense when someone's close to death."

The Sheriff's voice lowers to a hiss as he stares at his son. "Can she sense that I'm about to kill you?"

"I don't know," Stiles replies uneasily. The three all look back to Lydia who smiles and waves.

"I don't know if she can... But I definitely can. I'm guessing it's going to be pretty violent, fairly gruesome-"

"Okay, thanks, Fi," the boy cuts off with a scowl.

Noah sighs. "All right, you two, look, I'm not saying I don't believe, but right now, I'm going with 'eyewitness' over 'banshee.' We're leaving a few deputies here. The school's on lockdown until three o'clock." Ophelia's eyes widen in horror. "Nobody comes in, nobody comes out."

"What? N-No," she stutters out. "No, you can't do that to me!"

Stiles opens his mouth multiple times. "That's the best I've got right now," his dad concludes. "That's the best I can give you, Stiles."

"You're leaving me here?" the boy exclaims in disbelief.

"Sheriff, you can't leave me here!"

"That's not-"

"I'd rather jump off a cliff!"

"That's the worst."

"Great," Ophelia mutters in frustration.

Her lips purse and Stiles' eyes immediately widen in recognition. "I know that look, what are you-"

"I mean, it was only a suggestion for us to stay here. So, technically, we can all leave whenever we want."

"How the hell did you get suggestion from that? That was so clearly not a suggestion!" She throws a hand up in the air whilst walking over to Lydia. "Fi, that was so obviously an order! Fi! Ophelia- and she's gone."

Whilst Scott meets up with the other remaining werewolves at the school to explain his recent knowledge of Barrow, Lydia, Ophelia and Stiles join back up with Allison in an empty classroom. As desperate as the hybrid is to make an escape with the Argent, she's worried about Lydia, which means she wouldn't leave the girl's side until whatever is going on is solved.

"The bestiary is literally a thousand pages long. If I'm going to find anything about flies coming out of people's bodies, it could take me all night," Allison tells them as she opens the window.

Just as she goes to climb out, Lydia quickly adds, "Remember, the word in archaic Latin for 'fly' is musca."

The brunette hums. "Got it."

Once the window is shut, the three remaining are silent in thought of what to do next. "Okay, where does one start in order to think like a mass murderer?" Stiles questions.

Ophelia picks away at her chipped red nail polish, but when feeling eyes boring into her forehead, she slowly looks up. "Hm? Oh... Well, usually I'm constantly thinking about who I'm going to kill next. Like, right now, I'm picturing someone in a bar downtown-"

The boy grimaces and quickly cuts her off. "Yeah, all right, let's start upstairs."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

It's the art room that the trio enter first. With just under half an hour before school finishes and the lockdown is lifted, it's even more important that they find where Barrow is hiding. Popping a bubble with her chewing gum, Ophelia quietly closes the door behind her. "What exactly are we looking for?"

"Any trace he's been in here," Stiles tells her quickly. "Blood, a scent, footprints. I don't know, something-anything."

She frowns. "How the fuck am I meant to know what he smells like?"

He huffs a sigh in annoyance and goes to open a row of drawers. "Well, considering he got up and walked out of a life-saving surgery, I'm gonna say there's a good chance he smells like death."

Lydia shifts her handbag on her shoulder and swiftly cuts in the conversation. "Scott, Boyd, and Isaac are in the basement, right?"

"Yeah, with Ethan and Aiden," Stiles confirms. Ophelia's eyebrows raise as she wonders just how well Scott can control two vengeful werewolves against the twins. "The plan is we meet in the middle, in the boiler room."

The hybrid closes her eyes in attempt to try and get something that could be the scent of Barrow, but she only comes back with her two friends and the strong fumes of paint.

"All of the wolves..." Lydia begins slowly. "All of the ones with glowing eyes are in the basement at the boiler room?"

Stiles' eyes widen as he catches onto what she is trying to say. "Oh, my God."

Ophelia looks between the two. "Huh?"

"An engineer could use a boiler room to blow up the whole school," the Stilinski states in concern.

She groans as she realises that if she's close enough to the epicentre of the explosion, there's an extremely high chance she could die today. "I knew I should've gone with Allison!"

Stiles' head tilts to the side. "I thought you weren't on speaking terms?"

"Weirdly, we are... She's actually not too bad when she doesn't want to kill me every waking second of her life."

Lydia clears her throat, getting visibly more frustrated as the pair distract one another. "We have to get them out of there."

"No, we have to get everyone out," Stiles corrects.

"How the hell are we going to evacuate an entire school on lockdown?" The three are quiet for a few seconds before Ophelia cracks a smile. "You know what, I think I've got an idea."

It's approximately three minutes later when they get back down to the ground floor that the fire alarm blares around the school. The two girls stand guard for any teachers whilst Stiles has his hand on the alarm with a gleeful smile on his face. He's clearly loving this opportunity. Hordes of students and teachers scurry past them to get outside, hopefully Scott and the others within them. However, Lydia and Ophelia's own smiles suddenly fall and their eyes begin to widen. Taking notice of their faces, Stiles' smirk slowly disappears, and with a dry swallow the boy turns his head to see what they are looking at.

He immediately flinches at Coach standing centimetres behind him, the adult not changing his expression whatsoever. "Wow," he mutters in shock. Trying not to giggle for the sake of their friend who is in pain, the girls quickly follow as Coach drags Stiles outside by his ear. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow..."

"Pulling a fire alarm on Mischief Night is one thing. Doing it when there's a mass murderer spotted nearby is insane!" Coach glares at him with a thunderous expression. "If I was four years younger, I'd punch you," he exclaims furiously.

Ophelia and Lydia share a look with one another in confusion. Stiles is of a similar mind set as he asks, "What? Coach, that doesn't sense."

"Oh, well it does to me! Stilinski, detention every day for the rest of the week."

His eyes widen in alarm, and all rational thoughts leave his brain as he attempts to save himself from the punishment. "B-But it wasn't even my idea!"

Lydia winces. "Oh, you've done it now."

Coach stills and raises a single eyebrow. "Okay, keep talking."

Even though he is very conscious of the daggers glaring into the side of his head, Stiles proceeds with his last-minute plan. "It was Fi! Ophelia, she told me to do it," he states, nodding his head over to the hybrid who, strangely, has never looked calmer.

Almost instantly, the man barks out a laugh, his eyes momentarily flicking over to the girl in question. "Yeah, nice try. Detention, Stilinski. Every. Day."

Stiles' mouth falls open, closes, then open again. "Wh-Ho-What? No! Coach, come on!"

"You forgot about this morning, dude," Ophelia points out, her voice tinged with amusement.

His eyes close. "'You're the only person in here who wouldn't pull this kind of crap.'"

Lydia chuckles. "He really likes you," she tells the blonde.

"Yup."

"You're totally taking advantage of it, aren't you?"

"Yup."

Stiles' eyes widen with relief and he points off into the distance. "Look, there," he tells the girls, quickly grabbing onto their hands and pulling them after.

Ophelia subconsciously blows out a breath once setting her eyes onto Scott, Isaac, and Boyd. "Thank fuck," she murmurs to herself.

The werewolves skip the greetings apart from small smiles to those of their choosing and move on to informing the three of what had happened on their end. Which as Aiden points out, is nothing. "Not even a scent," Scott adds.

Ophelia shakes her head once his eyes meet hers. "Neither, nothing but paint, sciency-shit, and two people that I really don't want to be here." Her eyes narrow at the twins, who subtly shrink back to Boyd and Isaac's utter delight.

The fire alarm continues to ring loudly in the background. "It's three o'clock, so school's over," Stiles points out in slight confusion. "If there was a bomb, wouldn't he have set it off by now?"

Turning his gaze directly onto Lydia, Ethan queries, "Does that mean everybody's safe?"

"I don't know," she quickly answers. The banshee purses her lips together with frustration, feeling the immense pressure to figure all of this out before something disastrous occurs. "I just... I don't know."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

After leaving Lydia to go home with Stiles, and Scott who had been invited over to Kira's house for dinner, Ophelia had headed back to her own place and spent an hour in her shower staring blankly at the wall. Most of the time, showers were cathartic for her. It was a space she was able to think freely, without any usual stress or anxiety. Today, however, every minute of the hour was filled with paranoia. The girl couldn't help but overthink why, aside from Barrow, things had been going so well over the last few days. The more she dwells on it, the more she comes to the conclusion that it's only a matter of time before she sees another dead body or tries to kill one of her friends again.

In moments like these, usually her coping mechanism would be to go see Malia. Although right now, Malia is locked up in a psychiatric ward, unable to walk out and see her. Not to mention that visiting hours are definitely over based on the moon that has risen high into the dark sky.

Ophelia on the other hand, has the freedom to walk inside Eichen House without any added complications. As she sits in her parked car with her fingers drumming against the steering wheel, she runs through her current plan. Compel the receptionist, then any other nurses and security if needed, to get Malia so the two can spend a few hours together. Whether that's a walk through the Preserve, getting the werecoyote as close to her natural habitat as possible without actually turning into a coyote (something they haven't figure out how to do just yet), or going back to the hybrid's home and introducing her to Rachel Green and Phoebe Buffay.

"Okay, you're fine. You want to see her, she hopefully wants to see you..." Ophelia takes a deep breath and gets out her car, being faced with the daunting, black steel gates that lock the outside world away from the hospital. Another breath. Her finger presses the call button on the keypad.

"Sorry, visiting hours are over. You can come back tomorrow."

"Yeah, hi, sorry, I'm not here to visit someone." She feels her bottom lip tremble as she wills emotion into her voice. "I'm actually- I, um, I'm here to admit myself. If I can even do that. You see, I-" She cuts herself off with a sob. "I've been struggling a lot recently, my brother recently died." Not a complete lie. "And I'm just feeling so numb."

Now, Ophelia isn't sure what the policy is for a place like Eichen House and a situation like she has just created, but she assumes, surely, they would have no choice but to bring her in if they're concerned for her safety.

"... All right, you just stay there for a second, okay? We'll come out and get you, sweetheart."

"Damn, I'm getting way too good at this," she praises herself. She hears the distant sound of doors opening, and a female conversing with someone who must be a security guard, and a smile lifts at her lips when she hears footsteps heading her way.

Then her phone silently rings.

"Shit," she mutters. A glance down at her phone makes her close her eyes, but nonetheless pick it up. "Lyds, what's wrong?"

"Hey, sorry, we think we've figured something out. Well, Stiles has but he won't tell me. Could you meet us at the school?"

Ophelia looks up to see the flicker of a flashlight through the shadows. "Yeah, give me five."

Malia would have to wait for tomorrow.

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

"Okay, it's nine at night, and you better have a bloody good reason for bringing me to this hellhole other than the one time I'm meant to be at this hellhole."

Stiles nods as he picks up his pace through the desolate, dark corridors of the high school, the flashlight on his phone illuminating the lockers that loom around them. After finding the same window Allison had gone through earlier still unlocked, the trio had found an easy way in without causing any property damage. "If I'm right, it's good."

Lydia's eyebrows furrow as they enter the chemistry classroom. "So, care to share what exactly we're looking for?" Stiles yanks open the door to the storage closet and the Martin hesitates, her eyes flicking down to the handle. "That was supposed to be locked..."

"Yeah," Stiles agrees. "I know."

Ophelia turns back around at her friend's unnerving comment. "Was it?"

She nods. "Safety precaution."

"Notice anything else?" Stiles enquires the pair.

The blonde scrunches her nose up. "Well, for starters, it reeks of acid or something."

Lydia stills. "You guys wouldn't have been able to catch his scent," she realises. "The chemicals would've masked it."

The Stilinski briefly looks back to confirm her words, then continues shining his flashlight through the shelving. Ophelia's eyes squint slightly and she inhales deeply through her nose. "Someone was bleeding in here, it's fairly fresh." She looks down to where Stiles is looking at on the floor and clicks her tongue as she points to the stains of dark red, a few staples mixed within. "See? I got something right!"

Both of her friends roll their eyes at her. "Yep, you were," he mutters, refusing to dull her joy by saying he had seen it just before she had pointed it out. "He was here, performing very minor surgery on himself. You were right," he tells the banshee.

"Then why don't I feel good about this?" Lydia counters.

Ophelia places a hand gently on the girl's upper arm. "His goal was to kill someone. There's nothing to feel good about, love."

Her words do nothing to ease the tension off the strawberry blonde. "But who?"

"Better not be me," the hybrid mutters.

"That's what we gotta figure out," Stiles agrees. Exiting the storage closet, the three observe the empty classroom. "We could spread out, start looking for... anything."

Ophelia heads over to the teacher's desk whilst Stiles rummages through various student desk drawers, both moving with a newfound urgency. She halts when noticing her best friend isn't doing anything. "Hey, what's wrong?" she questions with concern.

Stiles looks up and squints his eyes at the blackboard where Lydia is stood staring at. "What are those?"

The two join her side and examine the series of numbers written in white chalk. "Atomic numbers," she replies.

"Is it a formula?"

Ophelia makes a face at the boy's question. "I don't wanna do maths at nine o'clock at night..."

"No, it's not a formula. Nineteen's potassium. Fifty-three's iodine. Eighty-eight's radium," Lydia informs them quickly. "The first two make potassium iodide..." She grabs onto a piece of chalk and writes a K next to the first set of numbers.

The blonde stares at the chalkboard in disbelief. "Hold on, potassium is K?" Stiles questions incredulously.

"From kalium, the scientific neo-Latin name."

Ophelia tilts her head to the side. "I'm sort of attracted to you right now." An amused smile lifts at Lydia's red lips. "Sorry, continue."

She writes an I next to the fifty-three. Stiles' lips purse slightly. "What's radium?"

A capital R with a lowercase A is finally added. "'Ra,'" Lydia says.

Ophelia's eyes widen. "Hold on, what the fuck?"

"Kira."

⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

Stiles' Jeep is going so far over the limit, Ophelia knows for a fact that if his father wasn't the Sheriff for Beacon Hills, he would have numerous speeding tickets by now. The number of laws she's seen broken firsthand, well, she's lost track. She'd find it amusing if he wants a career in law enforcement in the future considering he can't go a week without doing something illegal himself. Currently, she, Lydia and Stiles are heading straight to the Yukimura residence where they know Scott is having dinner with the family. As thrilled the hybrid is for her friend finally getting some action since his breakup with Allison, the 'date' would have to be interrupted.

As Stiles runs through the second red light in the last ten minutes, Ophelia's eyebrows furrow together. "How far are we?"

"About a minute, why?"

"Something's wrong," she states in concern. "It's Scott, I can hear his heart. He's breathing, but it- I don't know, something's wrong with him. I can smell his blood."

Lydia's eyes widen. "Hurry up," she exclaims to the driver.

His foot presses further down on the accelerator, and it takes them another thirty seconds before the vehicle screeches to a halt at their destination. The body lying on the side of the road is instantly recognised to be Scott, the werewolf unconscious with a gash on the back of his head that is slowly healing.

Stiles' eyes widen as he rushes out of the car and crouches down beside Ophelia who has already bitten into her wrist and placed the bloody wound up to his mouth. "Scott? Scott!"

Unexpectedly, the boy's eyes snap open and he lurches up in horror as the prior events come flooding back. "Barrow, he took Kira!" Scott says breathlessly, his hand coming up to wipe the remnants of the blood off of his lips.

Ophelia nods. "Yeah, we know."

"He was after her the whole time," Stiles adds.

It takes them a few minutes to call Isaac who had gone over to the Argents' place to check in with Allison, and ask him if anything had been found. When he explains there's been nothing except flies and death, Scott hangs up with a little disappointment. "We have to think of something," the True Alpha says, glancing around the group with worry in his brown eyes. "He's going to kill her."

Ophelia's jaw clenches as she imagines the adorably awkward, innocent girl she had seen at school being murdered. She doesn't know why Barrow is specifically targeting Kira, especially since she hasn't caught any scent of death, like a vampire, or something resembling a werewolf. Scott likes her, which means that Ophelia will try everything she can to avoid Kira dying tonight. The interrogations would happen later. "He's not killing anyone on my watch," she attempts to reassure.

Lydia's lips tug further down into a frown. "I knew he was there," she speaks up. "How did I know that?"

"Because you heard the flies, right?" Stiles points out.

She slowly nods. Ophelia lifts a brow questioningly to her as she takes a step toward her friend. "Okay, and what do you hear now?"

"Nothing," Lydia responds. "I feel like I can do this, but I don't know what the fuck to do." Her voice begins to raise in frustration. "It's like it's on the tip of my tongue, and I don't know how to trigger it." She runs a hand through her hair and begins to pace back and forth. "It's just- I swear to God, it literally makes me want to scream!"

Ophelia watches her best friend become more and more distressed. "Then scream." Stiles nods in agreement, and the hybrid takes another few steps closer to the girl. "Lyds, scream."

There's no warning before a shrill, ear-shattering scream is released from Lydia Martin. The sound makes Stiles cover his ears and both Scott and Ophelia wince in slight pain.

When it stops, Lydia takes in a deep breath, then slowly exhales, remaining silent for a minute in concentration. She begins to turn her head until she eventually looks up to the streetlights above them. "It's not flies," she says. The girl spins around so quickly that both boys flinch and bump into Ophelia who refrains herself from laughing. "It's electricity."

"Wait a second, Barrow was an electrical engineer," Stiles says. "He worked at a power substation."

Scott's eyes are wide with urgency as he asks, "What substation?"

Five minutes is how far away it takes both the dirt bike and Jeep to reach the substation, and Scott doesn't waste a single second, immediately taking off his helmet and running inside. Stiles glances over to Lydia in the backseat. "Okay, wait here, all right? Just wait for the cops to come."

Lydia turns her head to him in disbelief as he jumps out and grabs something from beside Ophelia's feet. "Me? Wait, why?"

He holds up his aluminium baseball bat. "I only got one bat. Fi, you coming?"

The girl looks up from her hands. "Yeah, uh, give me a second," she calls out.

Too pumped up with adrenaline, he misses the fear within her voice and nods. "'Kay," he says before running off after Scott.

Lydia leans forward in between the two front seats in concern. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

Ophelia's jaw clenches as she watches the colour of her hands continue to pale to a sickly white, then spread up to her arms. Starting from her nails, large, grey veins quickly travel upward. She bites onto her tongue in concentration, her eyes narrowing slightly as she wills herself to move a finger; even if it's just a twitch. Tears water in her eyes when she realises that not just her hands, but her arms too, are now completely paralysed. Her eyes flick down to her legs that are exposed from her shorts, and her bottom lip wobbles as she tries to hold back a sob.

She's desiccating.

The banshee scrambles out the car to open the passenger door where her friend is seated and her expression morphs into one of her own fear when noticing how distraught Ophelia now is. She places a hand on her cheek and turns her head, connecting their eyes. "What's going on? You need to tell me, Fi."

A tear falls down her cheek. "I can't move," she whispers.

Lydia's lips part in concern but she is still immensely confused. "What do you mean you can't move?" She scans the girl's body, however, to her she seems completely normal.

Ophelia's lip begins to wobble and she is able to tilt her head down enough to find those same grey veins moving up her chest. "I think-I think I'm-" She tries to take a deep breath and launches into an explanation of her situation, speaking as quickly as she can before her entire body is rendered useless. "Vampires function off blood. If we don't get it often or enough of it, our bodies dry out from the lack of it and we start to feed on ourselves as a survival mechanism. Or it can be induced magically. It's called desiccation. We're still alive, but we're so weak that we can't move unless we get blood again."

"Is it happening to you right now? I thought you-"

"I fed this morning. I don't know, but there's these veins all over my body, and where they are I can't move." Another tear runs down her face. She's in so much pain that it feels like her all of her veins are rubbing together like sandpaper. "I don't know why or how, but it's happening to me."

"Okay, um, what does it look like? Like, how can I tell?" Lydia questions frantically.

"Grey veins," she answers quickly. "My skin's pretty much white, and there are grey veins everywhere."

Her heart drops when her best friend replies, "There's nothing there. Fi, you look completely normal."

"What?" Ophelia softly questions. "What do you mean?"

Lydia places her hands on her shoulders. "I mean, you look the same as you did an hour ago. No veins, no ghostly skin, you look normal."

The pain finally reaches her throat and chin. "B-But I can't move," she repeats in panic. "I can't fucking move."

The banshee is silent for a few seconds as she racks her brain for something she can do to help. Then, her eyes widen in realisation as she is hit with a large beam of inspiration. "Okay, I think I know what's going on. You trust me, right?"

There's no response.

"Shit, okay. Blink twice for yes."

Ophelia's watery eyes do as she is told.

Lydia takes a deep breath and places a hand on the girl's knee. "All these hallucinations you've been having? They've been from the ritual, right?" The girl blinks twice once more. "I think what's happening now- Fi, I think you're hallucinating. I know you've said you can deal with this on your own, but I can tell you're struggling. I need you to let me help you." Lydia exhales shakily as she tries to keep her own tears at bay. "You need to let me help you."

There's no blinking, but somehow she knows that Ophelia has responded. Lydia takes another deep breath and nods to herself reassuringly before darting around to the driver's seat and rummaging through the glove box for something that could help.

Neither of them care nor notice the generators from the substation flickering so intensely that it appears like a thunderstorm filled of icey-blue lightning.

Holding her breath, Lydia drags the pocketknife along her forearm, creating a small cut in her skin. She has no hesitation despite how Ophelia's eyes glow bright red at the scent and sight of fresh blood, and she places her skin against the slightly parted mouth of her friend. As soon as the drop touches Ophelia's pink lips, the sandpaper-like feeling begins to dissolve. It's incredibly overwhelming and almost impossible, but she manages to restrain herself from digging her fangs into the arm of her best friend and sucking out every last drop of her blood.

It takes a few seconds before her fingers begin to tremble, and she exhales a heavy breath full of relief. Lydia removes her arm and wipes the small wound on her sweater, not caring about ruining the fabric. With the feeling of warmth slowly spreading throughout her body, Ophelia gives her a small, weak smile, then suddenly lurches forward to tightly wrap the girl in a crushing hug. "Thank you," she mumbles. "Thank you for trusting me enough to not kill you."

Lydia softly smiles and rubs her back comfortingly. "Of course, sweetheart. You know I'd do anything for you."

The hybrid wipes away a few more tears, then her eyebrows knit together. "How did you know what to do?"

She clears her throat. "Remember when we thought Derek had died, and Scott wasn't healing because of the guilt?"

"Mhm, you said after that you thought it was something like sotafo-"

"Somatoformic," Lydia corrects with a chuckle. "I didn't know for sure, but as much as your hallucinations are supernatural in this case, they're also psychological. So by treating you like you actually desiccated, it tricked your brain into thinking you were healing from it."

Ophelia stares at her. "That's really smart," she suddenly whispers. They both smile at one another.

The sounds of sirens come into earshot.

Then her phone rings.

The Stone glances down to her phone in the cup holders, and she frowns at the unknown caller displayed as the contact name. When she looks back up, Kira, Scott and Stiles are exiting the substation. Both girls breathe out sighs, before Lydia gestures to her vibrating phone. "Go, answer it before the cops get here."

Ophelia smiles at her once more, before waving at her boys and slowly stretching her muscles out as she walks a few metres away to get some privacy. "Hello?"

"Nice to hear your voice, Ophelia."

She grins. "Stefan Salvatore! Been way too long, mate. How're you doing?"

"You know, I've actually been doing pretty well."

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear-"

"Until I remember you murdered my brother in cold-blood."

She clicks her tongue. "Ah, yeah, there is that, but don't forget about the pesky doppelgänger."

"I've been picturing your death for eight months," he speaks lowly, his tone threatening. "Eight months, Ophelia."

"Mm? That sucks 'cause we've had this conversation before, Stef. You can't kill me."

The vampire chuckles. "Yeah, you see, we both know that's a lie. There's the head option, and I've got to admit, slicing it off your body would give me the most satisfying dreams for the rest of my life. But then the heart is also a good-"

Ophelia leans against a fence as she watches her friends converse with one another, Lydia occasionally looking over to her. "You're sounding a little psychotic there, Steffy. Are you sure you haven't gone all Ripper-like again? 'Cause you know, anger really has a way of clouding one's judgment."

"You bitch-"

"Ah, see? I can hear it again! Why don't you try taking a deep breath for me..." A cheeky smile adorns her face. "And then just never letting it out again."

"I'm giving you a heads up because I feel like you deserve a little chance. I know where you are."

"Let's skip the shitty, meaningless threats-"

"Beacon Hills is rather quaint, hey?" Her smile drops in the speed of light. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm going to get you, Ophelia. Just like you got them."

As the call hangs up, she stares at her phone in confusion. How the hell does Stefan Salvatore know where she is? Then that thought from the other day returns, and her stomach churns violently while her heart plummets to the bottom of her feet. Either Bonnie Bennett had been a hallucination like Elena and Damon, or she had really seen the witch in the flesh scoping out the high school to report back to the man whose plan of revenge remains just as strong as eight months ago.

Now she just has to make a decision whether to flee like a coward, or to stay and kill both of them before they get even the slightest chance to kill her.

𝘚𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮. 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘬𝘦𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘓𝘺𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘍𝘪. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰, 𝘔𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘮𝘭... (𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧)

𝘖𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘉𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 3 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘒𝘰𝘭 𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘭'𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦/𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦/𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛𝘌𝘝𝘌𝘙. 𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦 😙 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘖𝘧𝘪 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘰𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘖 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘛

𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘧𝘢𝘯'𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘏𝘜𝘎𝘌 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳!!
𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹