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CHAPTER ONE: The Beginning.

"Holy shit, is that―"

"Sage Connelly."

Everyone at Beacon Hills High School stopped in their place when they saw the blonde get out of the Camaro. People around town heard word about her being back, but no one bothered to believe any of them until now―not when rumors around their town spread life wildfire. Ironic, considering fire was the reason she left in the first place. Sage Connelly was an unsolved mystery to most of Beacon Hills, just like the notorious Hale family. She, along with the two surviving Hales, disappeared one day after the big house fire. News of what happened went around for an entire year, but by that time, Sage Connelly was gone. After losing her parents and older brother, she up and became a ghost to Beacon Hills.

Stiles Stilinski dropped his hands from Scott's side by that point, his attention drawn from the large bite on his best friend's hip to the girl. She walked towards the school with her head down, shoulders curled into herself as she kept her eyes on her phone in her hands. The last time he saw her was in fifth grade; he remembered that day clearly, just like he remembered the wide smile that was on her face as she cheered at her older brother, Luke's lacrosse game. That was the night before the Hale fire the next morning.

That girl used to wear pigtails with different color ribbons, and a new dress every day of the week. The girl in front of him was not the same one he remembered. She was wearing a black, leather jacket that Stiles faintly recognized from somewhere, and a grey tank top with jeans. All dark colors that stung his eyes because it looked so wrong on her. Any sense of familiarity was lost to him. He ignored the lump forming his throat, blinking away his surprise as she kept her eyes on the pathway.

Stiles wasn't the only one shocked by her reappearance. Along with everyone else in the parking lot, Scott McCall watched her and wondered why she was back after so long. Neither one of them ever thought that she would return, they hadn't even considered it, so to have the reminder of their past friendship come back and hit them in the face was startling. Sage had been as dead to Beacon Hills as the rest of her family, making it all the more uncomfortable for Scott and Stiles that she was right in front of them once again.

Feeling the stares crawling up her spine, Sage finally raised her head and searched through the crowds of people she had once known. Then, her green eyes settled on two faces too familiar for her stomach not to churn in nausea. She was sure her face contorted, too deep in thought at the sudden feeling that washed over her. Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall, she remembered. Her old friends. Her best friends. A picture of them laid in a box somewhere, left over from the small project she had in her backpack the day of the fire.

In the time that her attention was on them, she managed to run head-on into another person. "Watch where you're going, loser!"

Sage turned her attention over to the voice in a split second, eyes lighting with irritation. The teenage boy all but snarled the words, turning his attention away from his phone to see who slammed into him. He was more than ready to call out whatever lowlife decided to play target practice with his body. When he finally looked up at her, his eyes widened with the same surprise that everyone else had. Sage was less than pleased to recognize who he was, as well.

"I always knew you had a crush on me, Whittemore," she said, a slow and smug smile starting to spread across her face, "but I didn't expect to take your breath away."

She never got along with Jackson Whittemore when they were in elementary school. In fact, the two hated each other about as much as Lydia Martin and her did. Their personalities were always too different to ever like one another. That became obnoxiously clear with all of the near-fights any time she and Jackson were forced to sit together as a bonding exercise. Time-out was their most shared pastime. They were only eight. Imagine both of their surprise at running into each other at sixteen, Jackson incapable of processing words.

The student body thawed out around her as she spoke, admitting to themselves that she was real now that she opened her mouth. Jackson's eyes narrowed, glancing up and down at her in disinterest, before finally meeting her gaze again. Truth be told, he had no idea what to say to the girl. Finally, he nodded his head once and turned away from her. She briefly caught the attention of Danny Mahealani, surprised to find that he and Jackson now looked like the best of friends. She remembered when Danny always took her side when they were younger.

Sage stood in the same place, disoriented as she tried to adjust to the newness of everything. Part of her hoped that returning back to school and seeing her former friends (or enemies) would make things easier. She clung to the possibility that they wouldn't treat her any differently. However, she had been wrong, and Jackson confirmed all of her fears. She would be treated as a freak―the teenage orphan that couldn't handle the attention that came with it. They were only partially correct; she did leave because of her parents' deaths, but she was more than capable of handling it. She had to.

Shaking her head, she continued to walk towards the entrance and passed by Stiles and Scott on the way. They were too deep in thought to notice her now, although she hadn't been expecting either of them to shower her in "I miss you," anytime soon. Picking up a friendship left behind after six years was out of the question, especially one that Sage forgot about. The goal when they left Beacon Hills was to wash away any memory they had with the people in the town, leaving without a trace of goodbye.

"―if you're not going to believe me about the wolf, you're definitely not going to believe me when I tell you that I found the body."

Scott tried to speak quietly, but there had still been a small crowd of people walking alongside the pair that managed to catch the end of the sentence. Sage was one of them. She came to a stop when she heard him, saying the only words she wished never came out. A painful ache struck her heart, carrying an open wound that had yet to heal. Finding out the truth of Laura's death was a few hours deep, and trying to pretend that she was alright hurt even more. Being back in Beacon Hills was supposed to be temporary until they found Laura. Now, they were stuck here until they figured out what happened. That included building up the story that they were back for good, and high school was a part of that.

"Move it!" a kid hissed from behind her.

She blinked out of her haze, coming back to her senses as she realized she was holding up a few students trying to get inside. Muttering a small apology, she rushed through the doors, trying to swallow down the tears stinging her eyes. She forced herself to push down the memory of last night when she had to bury Laura. Laura, her sister and guardian, her protector and best friend. The woman that became a surrogate mother at only eighteen, taking care of her arrogant brother and a stray left behind. Laura, who deserved so much more than the death she got. 

―――――――――――

Sage sat on the ground, numb to the cold as Derek continued to dig a six-foot hole. The part of Laura that they found was on the other side, but she refused to look in the direction. Dismantled as if she were less than human, Laura Hale's life ended abruptly and that was not something that she was ready to accept. The tears she let out were long dried up, frozen to her face and cracking every time she moved it.

She and Derek hadn't spoken since he came back, carrying a deceased Laura wrapped in a blanket. She was grateful he knew she wouldn't want to see her like that, and if he had it his way, he would never have involved her in the burial process. However, he needed her. The wolfsbane-coated rope sat at her side, waiting to be put around the expanse of her grave sight. Just as another shovel full of dirt was thrown to the side, she decided to finally speak.

"Mom and Dad were always there for your family," she said, blankly. Her arms tightened briefly around her knees. "Always. We spent so much time here, and I never realized why until...they were always there. I was supposed to be there for her, but I wasn't. That was my responsibility. I wasn't there, Derek."

Derek looked up from the grave, the shovel now abandoned in the dirt as he stared at her. He had seen Sage in distress enough in his life―there was the time when she was eleven and woke up constantly screaming from her nightmares, the time when she was fifteen and had her heart broken for the first time―but he could see this was different. He carried every bit of pain that she did over Laura, but he couldn't let it get to him. He was the only Hale left. Derek had the responsibility to take care of Sage now. They were the only family either of them had left, blood-related or not.

"You're sixteen, Sage," he said, lowly. His brows creased in obvious upset. "It has and will never be your job to save us from anything. No matter how much you believe it, it isn't. You couldn't have changed this if you tried. Laura made the decision to return to Beacon Hills. She made that choice. We tried to stop her...what you can do, what your mother did, does not mean you get to carry this burden. You don't protect us. If anything, it was always Laura and my job to protect you."

Sage didn't reply, watching him with grieving eyes as she took in every word he said. Derek returned her gaze, his lips pulling down as the urge to shield the blonde from the world grew. When he looked at her, all he saw was the small, ten-year-old blonde that day of the fire, staring at him wide and tearful-eyed. Even today, that was an image he could never get passed. Finally, she broke eye contact and went back to staring at the ground in front of her.

Derek continued to dig foot and foot until there was enough space to hide the pain that Laura Hale left behind. When finished, Sage was silent whilst circling her grave with the wolfsbane rope.

―――――――――――

"Name?" the receptionist asked, looking up and pushing the glasses further on her nose. "Oh! Sage Connelly, I presume? Mister Hale called last week about registering you for classes. Would you like your schedule?"

Last week? she thought. There hadn't been any plans on staying in Beacon Hills last week. The realization that Derek must have thought something like last night was going to happen hit her, and she ignored the urge to grind down on her teeth.

"Please," she muttered, ignoring the thought of Derek and her mother all at the same time.

The receptionist gave Sage a freshly-printed copy of her schedule just as the first bell rang. She offered to grab the principal or another staff member to show her around, explaining that there was another new student meant to arrive soon. However, she knew the high school like the back of her hand and rejected the offer quickly. The hallways were familiar enough, having the vague memory of entering the place so much during her brother's games when she was little. The numbers on the doors made it easy to find her English class in a few minutes. Still, the second bell telling her that she was late rang overhead.

Her footsteps stopped cold when she saw the door, clenching fists tightly against the schedule in her hand. She dreaded walking into a room full of staring people. Deciding to remember Derek's encouragement, she quickly pulled open the door and winced when it creaked loudly. Despite what some believed, she hated being the center of attention, and walking into the full classroom was hell.

"Miss Connelly. I heard that I would be having you in my class. Take a seat. I suppose you don't need introductions," Mr. Anderson, her new English teacher, said begrudgingly as he crossed his arms over his chest. Sage immediately moved to the aisles, trying to find an empty seat. "I do hope that your brother's behavior was not passed onto you. I understand it is your first day, but tardiness will not be excused again."

Sage stopped in her place. Her eyes stayed trained on the bulletin board in front of her, full of Shakespeare quotes. My tongue will tell the anger of my heart, or else my heart concealing it wll break. Fitting. The schedule in her hand tightened instinctively. Really, she should have expected Anderson's comment about Luke. He had been a troublemaker in school, but the audacity that the man had to bring him up lit up an annoyance in her that could not be silenced. The teenagers in the last two rows stared with wide eyes, no doubt questioning if they were in the line of fire.

"Sorry to disappoint, Mister Anderson," she said, coldly. "He died before he could teach me his conniving ways."

Instead of turning to face him, she continued on her way to the first empty seat that she could find. Sliding into it, she finally looked to the front of the room with a red face of frustration. Mister Anderson had turned his attention his desk, face flushed from embarrassment as he tried to busy himself with the papers. Turning away from her dick of a teacher, Sage looked to see that Stiles was staring at her from a few rows over. He wasn't very subtle about it, gawking at her like it was the first time he ever saw a girl. The intense gaze made her more uncomfortable than the short interaction before school started. She, at the very least, hoped he would understanding how horrible it was to have people stare. He didn't, though. So, she stared back.

He has changed a lot since the last time she saw him — although, almost everyone has. His hair was buzz cut, something that Sage doubted looked good on anyone up until she saw how it suited him in a way. It had previously been a messy bunch on top of his head in fifth grade, where the possibility of seeing his eyebrows was shot out the window. Now, she was able to see just how golden brown his eyes were from far away. She also noticed how they were not lit like they once were. Worn down, she was struck with the brief memory that Stiles had also lost a parent. Claudia Stilinski's funeral happened a year before the fire; that was the first time Sage had ever been exposed to death of any kind.

Realizing they had been staring at each other a lot longer than appropriate, Sage turned her head as Anderson began to speak to the class. "As you all know, there was indeed a body found in the woods last night. I'm sure your eager little minds are coming up with various scenarios as to what happened, but I am here to tell you that the police have a suspect in custody — which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus on your desk outlining the semester."

Suspect.

They had a suspect. Derek better not have gotten his ass thrown in jail, because God forbid, she was the only one left to break him out if that happened. She was way too young to be a fugitive. Grabbing her phone from her pocket, Sage sent the impulsive man a quick text to make sure that he hadn't actually been arrested. At the rate of luck they were having, the possibility was more likely than she would have liked.

While everyone else began to glance over the syllabus, she watched in confusion at Scott shot forward in his seat like something startled him. When he glanced back at her, she wanted to whisper what the hell was wrong, but bit down on her tongue. She had no reason to ask if he was alright, and he had no obligation to tell her.

She stopped looking at Scott when the classroom door opened, and the vice principal came in with a nervous brunette at his side. Sage couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Just minutes ago, she endured the same struggle of being the center of attention. The only difference was that while she actually was new, Sage was not. That girl had the chance to start over with a clean slate, become a completely difference person than who she was before. That was the only good thing about a new start in a new town. No one knows you, and no one knows who you were before.

"Class, this is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome," Vice Principal Collins introduced, sending Allison a small smile in reassurance.

He left after that, dropping Allison off to fend the stares on her own. Sage resisted the urge to glare at some of them, noticing the boyishly-immature looks that Allison was getting and the familiar stares of the Lydia Martin wanna-be's. She didn't see why people couldn't mind their own business. Allison looked nice enough, but it was going to take her a few days to settle into the new scenery by the way she kept her head down. Sage watched as Allison quickly retreated to the first open seat that she saw, which was a row over and two seats up from Sage's place in the very back. Allison sent her a quick, uncomfortable smile when she noticed Sage.

Scott turned around the second the new girl took a seat, offering up a pen to Allison who smiled and thanked him in mild confusion. Sage snorted in amusement. She never thought she would see the day where Scott McCall pulled his moves out on a girl. He was always the one afraid to even begin a conversation with her when they were younger, much less actually find the courage to give a pretty girl a pen. A vibration came through her pocket and she quickly ducked her head to read the text message.

From: DEREK HALE

Have just a bit of faith in me.

Highly unlikely.

―――――――――――

"Where the hell are you, asshole?"

Sage hissed into the phone as she sat near the double-doors outside. She had yet to see the familiar Camaro anywhere, and she was beginning to grow more pissed off at her best friend the longer she sat. After waiting two hours after the final bell, her patience wore thin. The parking lot was practically abandoned, aside from the few cars that belonged to the lacrosse team. They, by the way, were just finishing practice and that added more fuel to the flame. And her phone was about to die.

"I'm on my way. I got a bit caught up. Just start walking home. I'll find you," Derek reassured just before the line went dead.

"You want me to walk? Derek, I swear―"

The sound of the call ending interrupted her. Had Sage not been livid then, she most definitely was now. He hung up on her. Picking up her backpack, Sage began walking in frustration, her boots grinding hard against the cement. She glanced down at her phone for a second to see what percentage her phone was at, knowing very well that if somebody decided they wanted to kill her, now would be the best time because she had three percent―nevermind, two percent― and wouldn't be able to call for help. Not that her help (a.k.a Derek) was actually any help at all.

"I'm going to kill him."

She continued to walk down the parking lot, thinking of all the ways possible to castrate a werewolf in the meantime. Then, something abruptly grabbed a hold of her shoulder and her muscles reacted instinctively by swinging to hit the person. Her absent mind and fear of being murdered in plain sight was to blame, really. Having been raised by two Hale werewolves didn't help either. However, when she turned around and realized who she actually hit, her eyes widened in horror.

Hands going to the arm she unknowingly attacked, she spluttered out. "Oh, my God. I'm so sorry, Stiles!"

"Ah, it's alright," he said with a groan, holding his arm with wince. "I shouldn't have snuck up on you."

Sage felt her face begin to burn. Her first conversation with her old friend, and she almost hurt the boy. Swallowing hard, she let go of his arm and shifted her weight to her left foot. "Did you need something?"

Stiles' eyes went wide as if realizing he actually came up to her for a reason. His mind went blank as soon as Sage touched his arm. Just like in the classroom earlier that day, he was embarrassed to be in such close vicinity to actual girl that didn't scream in disgust. He managed to avoid Sage's gaze as his cheeks heated up, fumbling around with the straps of his backpack for anything to do.

"I―uh―I was just making sure that you were okay after the whole thing in English class. Anderson is a real asshole, like bigger than Snape to Harry throughout the books asshole. Most of the teachers are here, actually. Harris is actually closer to Snape than Anderson really...or Emperor Palpatine. Jabba and Anderson actually look really similar when you think about it―"

"You like Harry Potter?"

Stiles paused in his babbling to stare at her in shock. "You understood that reference?"

"Of course I did," she said, furrowing her brows at him. "Those are my favorite movies. Favorite book series, too. Those were my go-to whenever we had independent reading in English."

"Oh," he said, a bit dumbfounded as he stared at her open-mouthed. He never noticed. He'd been too busy watching Lydia. Then, he blinked his surprise away. "Yeah, they're good. I'm more of a Star Wars kind of guy, though."

Sage's nose wrinkled a bit. "Haven't seen them."

"You―I―what?" he gaped at her. "You haven't seen them? None of them? They're a cinematic masterpiece! You have to see them!"

"Aren't they super difficult to understand?"

"Not for me."

She raised her brows. "And how many times have you see them?"

"Besides the point," he glowered, waving her off. "Besides, I can explain everything to you, young Padawan."

"I'm assuming that's a reference?" she grinned. She glanced back over her shoulder for a second to see if the Camaro was anywhere in sight, then turned back to Stiles. "Maybe after I get settled back in, we can have a movie night. Part two of the Deathly Hallows comes out this summer, and I need a movie buddy."

Stiles suddenly smiled brightly, his brown eyes shining with a different spark of enthusiasm. "I'd like that. Scott refuses to watch Star Wars with me so it'll be nice to have someone who understands my references and won't look at me like I'm a psychopath."

Sage couldn't help but laugh. To be completely truthful, her first day back sucked, but she wouldn't admit that out loud. After Anderson's first period, she went to her other classes and realized that almost all of them had one person she used to know very well. Whether it was sitting in front of Stiles, or behind Jackson, or across from Scott, they were all a frequent reminder throughout her day. The only person she did manage to avoid was Lydia. Then, she was introduced to all of her new teachers. Harris distinctly remembered her brother, as well, and she began to realize that almost none of the teachers liked Luke. At all. The only exception to that was Coach Finstock, who beamed when he saw her and rambled about how amazing her brother was for a good portion for class. He―she came to accept―was the highlight of her day.

Now, it was the conversation she was having with Stiles that made her day. He bit down on his lips anxiously after it got quiet. Sage noted how his hands were twitching anxiously at his sides. "Well...I know that you just got back, and things are kind of awkward, but...if you ever need someone to talk to, or a movie buddy, or just a friend...I'm a good listener. Just, you know, if you ever need anything."

The sound of a loud engine caught their attention before she could speak. Sage looked to see the Camaro coming into the parking lot and turned to see that Stiles noticed as well. His face dropped considerably, almost wishing for more time to talk to her. His wish would have to wait. Sage flickered her eyes towards the parked car and back to Stiles with a frown. Speaking to Stiles was nice, and it was the first time aside from Finstock where she actually felt normal.

Giving him a thankful nod, she sent him a small smile. Just as she turned around to head towards the Camaro, she stopped in her place and turned to give a final grin at Stiles. "After all this time?"

His eyes lit up immediately, grinning from ear-to-ear with her. "Always."

Stiles' expression was replaced with a perplexed one as he watched the blonde get into the car and drive off, eager to figure out the new person that Sage Connelly had become in the last six years. It was clear that whoever she happened to be now was far too interesting for Stiles to simply ignore. After all, this was the first time in a very long time that he actually began to feel some sense of hope. Maybe he would find a new friendship in the old one he once had with her. A better one.

―――――――――――

"Rock, paper, scissors."

"No, Sage."

"Yes, Derek," she said with a scowl. "You win, and I go to the party. I win, and I go to sleep."

Derek rolled his eyes. "You're going to the party either way."

"I am not! Did you not hear anything I've said in the last five minutes? Lydia Martin hates me. Present tense. She wasn't giving me any warm welcome when I came back yesterday, and I doubt showing up to her party is going to get me one either. Pitchforks and party favors for me! Maybe she'll put me out of my misery quickly—or maybe she'll stab me in the face with her stiletto..."

Derek stopped walking suddenly, causing Sage to run right into his back. A groan came out of her mouth, both in frustration and pain. They walked in the forest near the house for the past ten minutes, following the same trail from last night when Derek found Laura. He was persistent on not telling her what he was doing, rather changing the subject to the party that Lydia was throwing Friday night. Somehow, he found out about it before she had and insisted that she needed to go to it. What he did not tell her, however, was the reason why she needed to go in the first place.

"I don't care about Lydia Martin, Sage. I care about Scott McCall."

What the hell did Derek want with—

"You think he was bitten?" Sage asked in surprise, moving to stand in front of him with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. "What the hell does that mean for us?"

Scott being bitten by another wolf the only reasonable answer at this point. After what she heard yesterday morning about him being out in the forest, that was all she could come up with. Before Derek could reply, two voices came out of nowhere and she turned her head quickly. The teenager they were just speaking of was on the ground, crouched with his back to them. Stiles noticed them first, his eyes growing the size of saucers before hitting his best friend on the shoulder rapidly. Derek carefully pushed Sage aside, advancing towards the two teenagers with a new anger in his step.

"What are you doing here?" he snarled. Sage rolled her eyes at his play, but stayed behind him. When neither boy answered him, Derek's shoulders tensed. "Huh? This is private property."

Stiles looked at Derek like he was a serial killer, his eyes still wide. "Sorry, man. We didn't know."

Although she couldn't see the expression on Derek's face, she could see from the other boys' faces that it was not welcoming. Frowning, she took the few strides between them and grabbed a hold of his upper arm to tug him gently. As she pulled, she noticed Stiles direct his eyes to her instead. He wasn't surprised to see her with Derek. Only with them standing next to each other did he see how similar they actually were; he assumed it was an effect of being together for so many years. Surprisingly, Sage was not wearing her black leather jacket, but a dark brown one that matched the trees they were around.

"Yeah," Scott spoke up, gaining everyone's attention again. He kept his eyes on Derek warily, only glancing once or twice at Sage. "We were just looking for something, but forget it."

When Derek reached into his pocket, Sage let go of his arm. An inhaler appeared out of nowhere, and he threw it in the direction of Scott's face without hesitation. To her surprise, Scott caught the object like it was second nature to him. If there was any possibility of them being wrong, there wasn't now. Sage understood now that the whole reason they came out to the woods in the first place was because he wanted to test Scott—and he passed. Without another word to the boys, Derek turned on his heel and tugged on Sage's jacket sleeve so that she would follow.

She barely spared a parting glance at Stiles and Scott before she was tagging along, waiting until they were out of view and supernatural-hearing vicinity to speak. "What happened to first impressions?"

"I don't need to make an impression on them. You do. Now, walk faster."

She huffed. "Not my fault you brought me out here just to throw an inhaler at his face."

"He caught it, didn't he?" Derek said, glancing her way with raised eyebrows. "Either he has great reflexes, or he was bitten the same night that someone killed Laura—which means that there is a new alpha roaming around Beacon Hills turning teenagers into betas, and Scott McCall is one of them."

Sage wasn't sure which thought was more concerning to her. Although the thought of Scott being a werewolf worried her, the very idea of there being a new alpha capable of killing someone like Laura won every time. That meant that they knew about Laura, just like they knew about her werewolf status. At any rate, Scott was only a big problem on a list of other problems that they had.

"So, what do we do?"

"Divide and conquer," Derek explained, pausing in his walk as he turned to her. "I'm already trying to figure out what happened with Laura and the alpha who killed her. You are in charge of watching over Scott and making sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

She gawked at him. "You want me to babysit him?"

"Guess you'll be going to that party after all."

"Oh, go to hell, asshole. I'll stick Lydia's stiletto in your eye."

――――――――――― 

Wednesday came around, and then Thursday. Both days were spent keeping a close eye on Scott, making sure that he didn't randomly wolf-out in English class. Now, on the cold Thursday afternoon, she pulled up the effort to watch the lacrosse team practice after school. The team was getting prepared for their first elimination game, and that much was clear by the obvious disheveled state of the players as they paced around. Surprisingly, as she sat down on the familiar metal bleachers, she was not overcome with sadness. Instead, a warmth filled her heart at all of the memories she had of the field in front of her and the nights spent on the very same bleachers.

Flashbacks of when her brother used to play littered her mind, the number '12' seemingly branded into her skin after wearing Luke's extra jersey so many nights. Sage always loved lacrosse. Something about the thrill that came with it, the adrenaline rushing through her without being on the field, always excited her on Friday nights. Luke and her father, Hal Connelly, both shared that excitement. Her mother, on the other hand, always hated the sport because of the extreme injuries Luke would come home with. At least, that was what the rest of the Connelly's convinced themselves to believe every time there was an absent spot where Mallory should be.

Out of everyone she lost that morning, she missed her brother the most. They used to argue all the time when she was younger, but when she turned ten, that stopped. Only now did she understand why. Most of what she remembered from her childhood was the tension in her home between her mom and Luke. They fought constantly, especially about his injuries, and those arguments always filled every room. Usually her dad wasn't home, working a late shift at the hospital or getting pulled into an urgent surgery. While she didn't know much about her family's secret, she knew enough now to finally understand why Luke had those fights. He protected her—from the life she lived now, and the secrets, and the lies. Now, she was the same age as him when he died.

"Sage?"

A voice interrupted her thoughts, and she blinked out of her haze to look over at Allison Argent. The new girl in town, but not too new apparently. Sage learned from Derek that Allison shared a last name with the notorious family of werewolf hunters. Along with babysitting Scott, she also had to keep an eye on Allison to see if her family were practicing hunters. As far as Sage could see, that didn't seem likely. Allison's doe-eyed expression showed that she was too innocent to be involved in such horrible actions. For some reason, she wanted to give the girl a chance, but she also knew that if Allison was looking for friends in people, she needed to stay far away from anything that had to do with Sage.

"Hi, Allison," she said, kindly.

The brunette smiled lightly, ducking her head a bit to gesture towards the seat next to her. "Can I sit with you? Lydia was supposed to come, but she got held up in her AP class—"

Sage nodded, patting the cold seat welcomingly. At least Derek would be proud that she was killing two birds with one stone. Allison smiled and sat down, keeping enough distance for her to sit her purse between them. The group of players on the field broke off from their huddle then, stationed in their designated positions. Scott glanced up, and Sage was genuinely surprised to see him look over their way. He wasn't looking at her, but at the brunette sitting next to her. That had her mind raveling with wonder, pursing her lips in thought.

"Wow," she said in surprise, realization hitting her. "You and McCall?"

Allison looked at her with confusion written on her face. "What?"

"You and Scott? I mean, I see it now."

"Oh," she blushed. "No. I just...I just met him. He's been really nice since I came here. We're not together, though. He helped me out the other night and asked to go to the party on Friday with me."

Sage snorted at that response, unsurprised in that statement of fact. Anyone with any sort of peripheral vision could see that the two liked each other, or at the very least were interested. For some reason, she enjoyed seeing it. Until rationality hit her like a ton of bricks, and she remembered that Scott was a newly-turned werewolf and Allison carried a hunter's name on her back. Then, she sat up a bit straighter and frowned. Hopefully, Derek was wrong about her family. Scott and Allison would be good for each other.

Allison decided to redirect the conversation. "Are you going to the party?"

"Haven't decided," she said, shrugging. Truthfully, she had to. Not only was it a full moon, but it was Scott's first full moon. She and Derek would both be there, if only one of them in sight. "Lydia and I aren't exactly the best of friends."

"Yeah..." she paused, wincing slightly. "I'm sorry I haven't gotten the chance to introduce myself properly. She's pretty much been avoiding you around every turn. Something about you all leaving off on a bad note at a fifth grade science fair?"

At the mention of the memory, a smile stretched on Sage's face. "She's still mad about that? Did she tell you why?"

"Not exactly...I don't really have the opportunity to ask a lot of questions."

"She ended up doing some extreme project on pollution—pipes, glitter, fake smoke clouds, everything," she began, "and I decided to enter last minute because my Dad was a complete nerd when it came to science, so him, my brother, and I spent the whole night building this super simple replica of the constellations using a lot of his old medical equipment. We said it was supposed to 'show that the universe revolves around science in more than one way' or something like that. Got first place, and Lydia hasn't spoken to me since. She was just a little pissed off I beat her."

Allison was smiling from ear-to-ear now, a giggle coming out of her mouth that she tried to contain with a hand to her mouth. Sage couldn't help but grin in return, the memory forever in her mind as one of the best nights before the accident happened. The mere reminder of the fire made her happiness falter, smile falling off her face. Talking about her dad and Luke was nice. It would have been better if they were still alive to relive the moment with her.

"For what it's worth... and I know that it isn't much..." Allison started slowly as her smile also disappeared. "I'm really sorry about what happened to your family."

Sage looked away from the field to glance at her hands, picking absentmindedly at the white nail polish chipping off already. She figured it wouldn't take long for Allison to hear about the Hale fire, and she could only imagine the horrible things people at the school had to say about it. Even then, the fact that Allison was brave enough to bring it up in conversation said a lot about her. For that, she couldn't help but feel a greater respect for the girl. If she had to pick a new friend in the God forsaken town, Allison was one of the few that she would consider first.

"You know, you're the first person to actually say that."

Allison's brows raised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Sage admitted, looking at her for a moment. "Not that anyone needs to apologize for an accident, but I appreciate it...for what it's worth, thank you."

Allison nodded, but if she were planning on saying anything else, her words were interrupted. Cheers erupted from the small crowd of students around her. Confused, her eyes widened when she saw that Scott was the one they were raving about. He was expertly avoiding all of the offensive attacks from other players, but that wasn't what set her on the edge. When Scott got blocked by three of the opposing players, he managed to flip over them with a ease that no human could do. A glower started to form on her face, and she resisted the urge to cuss every profanity that she knew.

"I'll be right back," she excused, quickly. "I need to go make a call real quick."

Sage jumped off her side of the bleachers quickly, already pulling her phone out of her pocket and moving to quickly dial the number she knew by heart now. She waited a few moments, letting the dial tone ring four times, before the static of someone picking up caught her attention.

"Hello?"

"Scott is going to be a bigger problem than we thought," she said, "because at this rate, he's going to expose himself before even knows what he really is. You need to tell him. Now, Derek."

――――――――――― 

Derek was not going to tell Scott anything. After a (very) long argument between the two of them, he eventually won and decided that it was better to wait. If the alpha wanted to claim his new beta, then that would allow Derek the opportunity to figure out who they were. Scott's obliviousness to everything was the best chance they had, and all they could hope was that the alpha cared enough about having a pack that he would want to fill Scott in on the news. Sage hated that idea. Any plan that put Scott in the vicinity of harms way, she hated, but the one Derek chose in particular she despised. She understood the fear and the confusion of not knowing what you were. She would not wish that upon anyone, especially someone with as kind a heart as Scott.

"I'll be right down the street to make sure that he doesn't do anything stupid," he announced at the doorway, leaning on the frame. "If anything happens while you're inside, text me and get the hell out of there."

"This would be easier if you just told him," she said, absentmindedly as she grabbed the jacket on the couch. She looked over at him, and when she saw the look on his face, she frowned. "Fine. I'll drop it. For now. Are you going to give me a ride?"

Derek crossed his arms over his chest. "Yeah. We need to go before the full moon starts."

He did just as he said he would, stopping the younger blonde off at Lydia Martin's place. Sage waved him off, commenting about having fun lurking around a teenage girl's home, then walked through the open door. Music was blasting when she got to the back of the living room, boys trying to dance with uninterested girls, and everyone holding a cup of alcohol. She followed the bandwagon, going to the keg that a bunch of lacrosse players were hoarding to quickly grab a solo cup. From outside, she could see Scott and Allison dancing. Despite herself, she couldn't resist the small smile that came over her when she saw how happy the two of them were.

That happiness died after about an hour of watching Scott. She grew tired of the babysitting real fast, switching randomly between the keg of disgusting beer and bottles of water just to keep herself sober enough. No one came up to talk to her, and Lydia had yet to notice that she crashed her party yet, so nothing worthwhile passed the time. Then, like a beacon of light in her life, she saw Stiles notice her from across the room. He looked like he was debating between coming over or leaving her alone, but to her relief, finally decided on the former.

"I didn't know you were coming," Stiles said when he was close enough, standing next to her by the counter filled with non-alcoholic things. "Doesn't really seem like your type of thing."

Sage raised her eyebrows at him. "And it's yours?"

"Fair point," he agreed, shrugging. He glanced at the red solo cup in his hands with a grimace. "I'm supposed to be here with Scott, but he's been with Allison the entire night, and this beer is absolutely disgusting. It tastes like tire. Rotting, torched tire."

"Are you familiar with the taste of tire?" she asked, amused. Her lips pulled into a smile, noticing how his nervous antics had returned again. He glowered at her, and her smile grew. "Kidding. Why don't you go find Lydia? I thought you've had a crush on her—for like, ever."

Stiles scoffed. "Yeah, right. The day Lydia Martin notices my existence is the day the world implodes. Literally—zombie apocalypse, every man for themselves, Doomsday kind of implodes. Even then, she'd probably run screaming the second she saw me."

"Drama queen. Remember when you used to make me pick weeds with you during recess to give to her?"

"Remember when she threw them in my face because they got her dress dirty?" he retorted, grinning just as much as she was. He was slowly relaxing, leaning against the counter next to her. "Nothing's changed there. Don't worry. She'll go off to marry Jackson, and I'll probably be the one who doesn't even get an invitation to the wedding—really, at this point, my only chances are between Danny and that one girl from second grade...what was her name? Martha, Catherine..."

Sage scoffed. "Are you darling about Darla? Paper-eating Darla? Didn't she make you a lightsaber out of construction paper with her spit?"

"Yeah, her!" he confirmed, throwing his hand up. "Wonder if she's still into me."

"Gross, Stiles," she winced at the thought. "You can do a lot better than paper-eater Darla."

Stiles' tone was joking, but she could tell by his crestfallen face that he was obviously upset by the circumstances. She felt for him, especially because she knew how much he liked Lydia. Hell, half of their childhood was spent with him pining over her. If there was one thing that hadn't changed, it was that. Constant, never-ending adoration for Lydia Martin had always been Stiles' thing. The small moment with him was nice. They were not like they used to be, and she wasn't sure they ever would be, but at least he wasn't treating her like a pariah. She supposed, in some ways, he was one just as much as her.

Leaning over so that she could nudge his shoulder with hers, she smiled halfheartedly. "Hey. Lydia doesn't know what she's missing. You were a catch back then, and you're still one now. She'll see it eventually. If she doesn't, then she'll be the one stuck with Jackson forever. Who's really losing there? "

"Thanks, Sage," he said, smiling thankfully her way. He glanced down at his cup again. "It's really nice to have you back, you know. I mean—uh. I get why you left, but...I'm glad you're back. I missed my weed-picking partner in crime. Scott sucked at it. He always ripped the petals off on accident. Not exactly a heartfelt gift to hand someone a dead stem."

Sage would have laughed at the joke, but before she could even think of processing his words, she was standing up from her position against the counter. The mention of Stiles' best friend brought her back to her original purpose for even going to the party. Scott was rushing to get through the door, gliding through the crowd with a blanched expression and clammy features. Immediately, she let go of the the cup in her hand and reached blindly for the one Stiles was holding too, putting both of them on the counter and ignoring the beer that sloshed on her hands.

"Stiles. We need to go. Now."

"What?" he asked, now in a full state of confusion as he watched Scott stumble through the teenagers. "Sage, do you know—"

"We have to go," she rushed out. "Like right now."

She grabbed his wrist and tugged him quickly through the crowd that Scott just disappeared through, her heart thumping wildly in her chest. Stiles fumbled with his keys, muttering to himself in panic as he also tried to call Scott on his phone. When he received no answer, he huffed out and returned back to Sage. She was already leading him in the direction of his jeep, tugging harshly to keep him moving.

At the same time, she ignored the obvious suspicion and worried glances Stiles sent her way. Taking Stiles with her probably wasn't the best thought she had, but considering how he was already acting, she wondered if he already knew. He was never an idiot, and he always believed in insane possibilities like werewolves being real.

"Where am I going, Sage?" he asked, his voice wavering in adrenaline. "What is going on? Do you know what's happening to Scott?"

Neither one of them had gotten further than the long drive full of cars before Sage stopped in her place. Stiles nearly collided into her, stopping himself before he did to stare in surprise. Just when his mouth formed another question, he was shut up. In the street, only a few feet away of them, Allison was getting into a familiar Camaro that she knew all too well. Sage's brows furrowed, noticing the expression on Derek's face when the car door opened just wide enough for her to see inside.

Then, she realized what he was doing. Derek was protecting Allison. With Scott's emotions heightened the way they were, she was in the most danger from him. He would be tempted to go to her first, above anyone else, and Derek was trying to prevent that. Keeping the new, teen wolf away from the potentially murder-esque family of werewolf hunters was the first step in keeping Scott alive. The second step included finding out where Scott actually was. As they drove away, her hand tightened instinctively around Stiles' wrist and she turned to look at him.

"We need to find Scott."

Stiles looked at her like she was crazy. "Why? And why was Derek taking Allison home?"

"Stiles, please," she urged, eyes pleading. "We need to go. You have no reason to trust me, but I'm going to need you try really hard to right now."

Stiles hesitated, opening his mouth to refuse again, before he closed it shut loudly. Nodding slowly instead, he took the lead this time and made his way to his tattered, blue jeep. Neither one of them spoke the entire drive to Scott's house, but Stiles' fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel and Sage checked her phone every two minutes for an update from Derek. When they arrived at Scott's, the front door was (thankfully) unlocked. Stiles bounded through the house and up the stairs, more familiar with the makeup of the place than she was. By the time she reached the top, he was already pounding on the bedroom door.

"Scott! It's me," Stiles said, continuing to hit the door as he spoke. "Let me in. I can help!"

Just when Sage gave up hope that he was in there, there was a small crack in the door and Scott replied. "No, listen, you've got to find Allison."

Sage slowly moved closer, noticing how labored Scott's breathing was. Even though it was muffled through the small opening, she could hear that he was struggling to keep himself controlled. Her hand stayed out in front of her, ready to pull Stiles back if the door was flung open at any point. Scott must not have seen her yet, the space barely enough for him to even recognize Stiles.

"She's fine," Stiles assured, his brows furrowing in confusion. "I saw her get a ride home from the party. She's totally fine, alright?"

"I think I know who it is!"

Sage lurched forward at that statement. Maybe Derek's plan had worked after all. Scott having any information about the alpha who bit him could lead them in the direction they needed to figure out what happened to Laura. Stiles glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes widening a bit, before he turned quickly to the door.

"Just let me in. We can talk—"

"It's Derek Hale! Derek Hale is the werewolf! He's the one that bit me. He's the one that killed the girl in the woods!"

Scott's words made her freeze instantly, her eyes lighting up with panic as she immediately moved next to Stiles so that she could try and see Scott through the crack in the door. "Scott, it's Sage. Derek isn't the one responsible for this! You need to listen to me. We can explain everything, but you need to believe me. I swear to God, it isn't him—"

Before she could explain any further, Scott shut the door on her face. A string of profanities fell from her mouth as she turned around, running her hands through her hair as she tried to figure out what to do next. Stiles stood in front of her, looking constantly between her and the closed door where his best friend was. Sage would be surprised if he was still in there, though. She pissed him off enough that escape probably felt like his only option, and now she was left to defend Derek once more to Stiles.

"Stiles," she started, her eyes widening as she pleaded. "You have to believe me. We're looking for the same person here. I can explain everything, but please, you have to believe that it isn't Derek. Why would I be here right now if he was the one doing all of this?"

Stiles stared at her, blankly. "I need to go check on Allison."

He turned on his heel, walking down the stairs with a defeat in his step that Sage carried along with her. Begrudgingly, she moved to catch up with him. If he would not believe her, then she would have to be there when he saw that Derek was not the one responsible for any of this. Maybe then, he would realize that they weren't the bad guys. They were just trying to find one.

———————————————

Sage stayed in Stiles' jeep, watching as he rushed towards the Argent's doorstep. Even though she told him the visit wasn't necessary, Stiles needed proof that Allison was alright. She hated it, but she understood why he was wary. She wouldn't have listened either if she was in their situation. With Derek's horrible attitude and lasting impression, and the fact that Laura's body was found the same day they arrived, fingers pointed towards him were understandable. She watched from the street as the Argent's door opened, and a woman appeared. When Stiles began babbling nonsense to who looked like Allison's mother, she couldn't help but sigh. His jaw moved at the speed of light to explain why he was at their doorstep so late.

After a few seconds, he nodded his head rapidly and ran back to the jeep, jumping in before her mouth could even open. She waited a few seconds as he started the engine, his hands gripping the steer wheel tightly before he huffed out his next words. "She was there."

"I told you so," she replied, raising her brows at him.

He glowered at the statement and drove out of the neighborhood. Sage kept her eyes on the road as he drove, ignoring the tension that was starting to build the longer they sat in silence. Finally, she had the opportunity to inspect the jeep that Stiles drove. For some reason, it was perfectly fit for Stiles. The interior was old, and she was sure that the sun visor on the driver's side was hanging by a thread and some duct tape, but everything about it made her feel safe.

Inspection aside, she turned her eyes back to the road. Stiles was still twisting his hands on his steering wheel, an obvious sign of his growing anxiety. She could tell that he wanted to ask a million questions at once, but he never did. He never asked her to explain. He never mentioned how she knew about Scott being a werewolf. He never said anything more about Derek or her odd behavior the entire night. She was relieved for that. There would never be a right time for her to explain everything, and even if she could, what Derek and his family were was not her secret to tell. Her family had her own.

Right then, she felt the familiar sensation creep up her spine. It prickled from her fingertips down to her toes, pushing through her bloodstream until it finally found its rightful place of pain. The silence in the car was abruptly broken when Sage let out a shout, hand darting towards her arm that was now searing to the touch. Stiles accidentally slammed hard on the accelerator when she screamed, his body tensing instinctively as he looked her way in surprise. When she let out another curl of pain, he quickly turned his wheel until he was off to the side of the road. Car now in park, he looked at her with raised hands and a face of pure panic.

"Sage! Sage, oh—oh my God. What's going on?" he asked, his words jumbling together as he tried to speak faster than the sentences would come out. "Are you okay? Oh, my God. Please tell me you're okay."

Sage sucked in a deep breath as she looked at her arm. "Someone's hurt."

With some difficulty, she managed to pull her leather jacket off her shoulders with one arm and a last-minute tugging of Stiles. All the while, winces feathered through her every couple of seconds. When she finally got the chance to look at her arm, she couldn't help but grit her teeth together. No blood, like always, but there was a noticeably growing bruise around her right forearm. Resisting the urge to curse, she slowly lowered her arm until it was resting carefully on her thigh.

When she finally turned her head, eyes burning with the tears from the pain, she realized that Stiles was staring. His eyes were wide, round as saucers and making the brown reflect in the full moon's light. The worst part, however, was that Stiles stared at her like she had gone fully mad. She fell back into the seat at that, trying to ignore the expression on his face. Instead, she focused on her uninjured, left hand and kept it into a tight fist. Only when she was sure that the pain had started to subside did she finally speak through her clenched teeth.

"Take me back to the Hale house, Stiles."

"Sage, what the hell was that—"

She turned to him with desperate eyes, pleading twice in one night. "Please, Stiles. Take me home."

Stiles paused, a frown setting on his lips as they just watched one another for a few seconds. He waited for her to break, to explain, but when he realized that she would not be doing anything like that, he finally gave up. With a heavy sigh, he put the car back in drive and pressed the gas down with reluctance. As he drove the silent blonde quickly towards the Hale house, he slowly started to understand that there was no point in starting a fight with someone that would always win. Whatever happened that night with Sage, and whatever she was involved in, he would inevitably be pulled into one way or another. Neither one of them had known that night just how much, though.

▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

Edited (2020) 

Author's Note:

Hello! Still with me? This chapter is obviously (very) long. With the most recent edits that this chapter has been through, it made the chapter incredibly long so I apologize. Please keep in mind that this chapter is EDITED, therefore there are edits in this chapter that may not be mentioned in the later chapters.  Also, I can't promise you that the layout of the story and the writing are going to be as nice as this chapter. This story was originally written in 2012, so bear with me. Thank you! 

Just another little thing: Sage is not a werewolf. She is not Derek's sister, nor is she related to the Hale's in any familial way. She (as we see at the end of this chapter) has her own family and her own supernatural abilities.

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https://ko-fi.com/vividparacosm  

Shameless Promo of my other story: 

THE FURIES ― Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince (Eventual Draco/OC)

"I am Slytherin, Harry Potter. I have always been just that, even before you knew that there was magic running deep inside of you. If you believe for one moment that I am anything less than capable of doing unforgivable things to you without a moment's hesitation, you are wrong; but that will not be because of my house or the color you see on my robes. It will be for my family, as you have tied the rope around my father's neck and condemned my mother to a life as a widow. I am not Draco. I do not have fun watching you stumble on insults, and I will not push back with petty remarks. I am the silence of his storm, Potter, and he is the calm beneath my rage. You will find hell in our names and darkness in our hearts. Mine has always been thicker than his. Expect no mercy from me."

My writing is a lot better in this story!