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CHAPTER TWO: Silver Linings

           Sage Connelly sat at the top of the bleachers, hands stuffed into her leather jacket as she watched the lacrosse players line up on the field. Derek told her to stay after school for the practice to spy on Scott McCall again, mostly due to the fact that he was: one, already nearing the brink of being a possible stalker, and, two, because he was no longer a teenager and it wasn't socially acceptable for him to just show up to their school and watch a sixteen-year-old boy. She didn't not want to go, but ignoring the constant looks from Stiles and Scott was already hard enough without showing up to their practice.

"One-on-one! Jackson, take a long stick today!" Coach shouted, the vein in his neck sticking out as he whipped his hands around. Jackson nodded without a protest, switching his lacrosse stick out for a longer one, running onto the field. "Atta boy!"

She couldn't help but smile while watching Coach run down the sideline, yelling at Greenberg every other second due to the long-lasted dislike everyone had for the boy. Coach rarely liked people, and when he did, he usually didn't show it. Sage remember Greenberg from second grade, back when he was in the fourth; he believed that dumping a puddle of glue into her hair would miraculously make her fall in love with him. It hadn't worked in his case, though, and he went home telling his mom that he got beat up by a seven-year-old girl with pigtails and pink ribbons in her hair. That was one of her prouder moments in life.

She blamed her aggressive side on Derek and Luke, only because she had never really been exposed to anything else. Every time they went over to the Hale house, she was always the one willing to play with the boys opposed to sitting and watching alongside Cora and Laura. Her mother hated it, especially when she would see her and notice all of the mud stains and scratches that were forming on her arms, but there was nothing she could say or do. Mallory knew that Luke would never allow his sister to get hurt, so she reluctantly let her daughter roughhouse with the boys.

Sage's train of thought returned back to her surroundings when she noticed that it was Scott's turn to make a break past Jackson, repetitively biting down on her lip as she slowly eased up from leaning on the back of the bleachers. She would be lying if she said she wasn't concerned for him. He seemed off ever since he showed up for school that morning, and she had an idea that it was because of what happened during the full moon.

After Derek came home fuming Friday night, he stormed into her room snarling about the hunters being back in town and how one of them almost got a hold of Scott. Argents. She had been wrong about Allison's family. Despite the horrible timing, Sage hesitantly revealed to him her own news that Stiles and Scott both believed he was the one who murdered Laura, just as they believed he was the alpha. Needless to say, Derek wasn't pleased to be an alleged killer and she spent the rest of her night cleaning up everything that he broke to pieces.

She cringed when she heard the impact of the two boys, Scott falling down on his back with a grunt while Jackson stood triumphantly. The fact that he finally beat Scott at something boosted his ego, especially considering his name was beginning to fall short next to Scott's recently. Then, she got the tense feeling that someone was staring at her. Sage glanced back into the forest behind her to see that Derek was walking forward. She rolled her eyes, annoyed that he didn't even trust her enough to watch over Scott alone.

Coach bent down next to Scott, and Sage could barely make out any words exchanged between them from her position on the stands. She could see by their facial expressions alone that Coach wasn't pleased about his new star player's performance. He was probably easing him into the harsh reality that if he didn't get his act together, he would be stuck on the bench again with his best friend. Spitting words from Coach Finstock didn't work well in a conversation with a tempered werewolf, and Scott's lip curled back in frustration.

A few seconds later, the man shot his head up with a grin. "McCall's going to do it again!"

Sage glanced over at Derek, who had finally made his way to her side of the bleachers. He glanced up as well, a hard look on his face that clearly stated the two of them had the same thought in their mind: if Coach truly did piss off Scott, the same Scott that was bitten by a werewolf not long ago and didn't know how to control his instincts, then they were going to be carrying more than just a canine off the field — they would be carrying body parts of human beings. The number '24' out on the field, Stiles, looked just as tense about the upcoming event about to take place.

When Scott ran head-on at Jackson, it was obvious that Jackson was going to take a hit. Just as the gear and helmets landed a sickening crunch with one another, Sage was letting out a small hiss at the sound. No, that was most definitely not fine. Instinctively, she moved to jump off the short drop from the top of bleachers to the ground, ready to split herself in two and be there for Scott and Jackson at the same time. Derek was next to her in seconds, his hand on her shoulder tightly. Much like her, his eyes stayed on Scott's distressed state and the players surrounding Jackson on the field.

With a clenched jaw, he finally met eyes with her. "Don't get involved, Sage."

"You are the one who told me to make a good impression," she said, staring at him pointedly. "And since you won't explain anything to Scott, one of us has to be there for him and for the people he hurts, too."

"That isn't your job."

"Isn't it?" she retorted, raising her brows as she slowly slid out of his hold. "I'm the babysitter, remember? Let me go babysit. In the meantime, you need to talk to Scott. Screw the alpha, Derek. We'll find another way, okay? One that doesn't involve letting him go through this alone. Are you really okay with him accidentally killing someone? His best friend? His girlfriend? Because I'm not."

His mouth pulled down into a deeper frown. "When did you get a moral compass?"

"I guess the same time we lost our sister."

Before Derek could say anything else, she turned on her heel and moved towards the small crowd of the lacrosse team. As she neared closer, she could hear Coach trying to figure out what was going on with his star player. Only when she finally pushed her way through the crowd, sending a glare Greenberg's way, did she see the same thing that everyone else saw. Jackson was on the ground, cowering into himself as he clutched his shoulder in pain. Her eyes widened, darting through the in crowd to see if she could find Scott. In her search, she accidentally met eyes with Finstock instead.

"Connelly! Off my field unless you know how to fix my player!" Coach ordered, his finger jolting out to point at the bleachers.

"He probably has a dislocated shoulder, Coach," she explained, frowning as she kept glancing between the two of them. "He'll need to go to the hospital to get it reset. I can drive his car there if you want to keep practice going. I know the season starts Saturday. You'll need him healed quickly."

Coach looked like he wanted to protest, but his mouth couldn't form any words in disagreement as he gaped at her. Then, he grumbled and whipped his head around. "Mahealani! Help Connelly take him to his car. Get your ass back here right after! The rest of you, take a lap! Actually, take two! And somebody tell me where the hell McCall and Stilinski went!"

Sage paused in her movements to go help Jackson up, her eyes darting across the field once again to see if she could find the two boys. When she came up empty-handed, she turned back in the direction of where she was just sitting and saw Derek still standing there. Frowning, she jerked her head carefully in the hint to tell him to find them. He would have better luck than she would. She waited until he gave a reluctant nod, and she saw him roll his eyes before turning around to go find Scott and Stiles. Now, she just had to hope when he did find them, he would actually step in and do something.

"Sage," Danny called out gruffly. "Little help here?"

She looked back to see that Danny was struggling to pull his best friend off the ground, Jackson wincing and trying to ignore the way that the force tugged on his shoulder. Quickly, she moved to grab the other side where his injured shoulder was. Just by awkward angle and the way that it hung, she could tell that his shoulder would have him off the field for the next few days. Call it a Connelly intuition. After a couple of seconds, she and Danny were finally able to pull him up off the ground so that he could stand on his two feet (no thanks to him). Jackson grumbled under his breath, and she could have sworn she heard her name in there somewhere along with some words of profanity, but she chose to ignore it.

"Where are your keys?" she asked him.

"My bag on the bench," Jackson said, his head gesturing towards the direction where most of the players' bags were sitting. "Pocket in the front."

Sage nodded and jogged over to the array of bags, her hands pushing around a few other boys' until she found Jackson's number. She unzipped the front quickly, grabbing the keys and hiking the bag over her shoulder afterwards. On her way back to them, she just narrowly avoided one of the other players—Isaac Lahey, maybe—as they jogged around her. He shot her a brief look, brows furrowed in confusion, before he continued his run. Danny helped Jackson to the parking lot, Sage a bit ahead of them as she ignored the mutter of conversations happening between the two boys on the way there.

When they finally got the grey Porsche, Sage couldn't help but scoff when she saw his front license plate. JCKSN37 was the first thing she noticed. "Jackson Thirty-Seven? Couldn't be a bit more of a pompous asshole if you tried, huh?"

"Stay the hell away from my car, Connelly," Jackson hissed, grinding his teeth together as he glared.

"Fine," she said, raising her hands with the keys wrapped around her finger. Her eyes narrowed on him. "Enjoy that ten mile walk to the hospital, though."

From beside Jackson, Danny started to grin as he glanced between her and Jackson. She returned it with a smile of her own, grateful that Danny was one of the few people in this town who still remained the same after so long. Although she had been surprised to see that he became best friends with Jackson, she supposed that must mean there were some redeemable qualities to the boy if Danny was friends with him.

"Danny can take me. Now give me my keys."

"Ah, actually..." Danny paused, wincing at his best friend. "Coach will have my ass if I miss practice at all this week. He says I need to pick up on goal if I want to stay on first-line this season."

"Wh—no!" Jackson blanched, his eyes darting widely to look back at Sage. A grin was slowly starting to spread on her face as she spun his keys around her index finger, casually. "No! Danny! She used to glue my feet to the ground in class! She chased me around with scissors."

Sage rolled her eyes. "They were safety scissors. Stop being a baby and get in the car."

Before he could protest, she turned to unlock the Porsche. Jackson let out another string of insults before he was being tugged by Danny in the direction of the passenger seat. She kept grinning as she moved to sit in the driver's seat, leaning over the console to push open the door for them. Jackson looked like he was giving Danny a few parting words before he groaned and fell into the seat, his eyes glaring holes into his dashboard. Sage leaned over him to give Danny a wave goodbye.

"Be careful," Danny said, kindly as he smiled at her.

"See," Jackson urged, pointing with his good arm. "Do you even have your license?"

Sage scowled his way. "Yes, you idiot."

"And my 'be careful' was meant so she wouldn't go to jail for killing you," Danny explained, giving Jackson a knowing look. "Don't be an ass. If she leaves you in the middle of the woods, it'll be a while before I find you. I have a date tonight."

Jackson scoffed, curling his hand back around his shoulder. "Nice to know my importance in your life."

Danny shrugged and pulled back, moving to close to the door so that they could leave. Sage waited until he was walking back to the field before she put the keys in the ignition and started it, ignoring the cautious and spiteful looks that Jackson kept directing her way. Once she was successfully out of the parking lot and on the road to the hospital, the silence settled in. Every so often, Jackson would give an exaggerated groan and she would resist the urge to shove his shoulder harder. However, she was (moderately) nice person with a (dented) moral compass, and she was still holding onto the hope that Jackson had changed. Even the slightest. Gained one moral or nicety in life. Just one. So far her hopes were in vain.

After a few miles, he finally turned to her with narrowed eyes. "Why are you even helping me? We hated each other when we were younger."

"You pissed me off a lot when we were younger," Sage replied casually, keeping her eyes on the road. "Still do. Doesn't mean I'm not going to be a good person and help you out...plus I just wanted to drive your car. It's really a disappointment, though. My friend's Camaro is a lot nicer."

"My Porsche is probably worth three times your friend's dingy Camaro," he jeered, leaning his head against the window.

"Why does that matter?"

Jackson snorted. "If you were rich, you'd know."

"Who said I wasn't?" she asked with raised eyebrows, turning to look at him. "My dad was a doctor, remember? General surgery. Mom was an attorney for the Hale's estate. Orphan inheritance is a funny thing, Whittemore. Money matters, sure, but not when it comes to the things you've exploited your entire life. Fancy cars, expensive clothes...there's a lot more you could be doing with that money, you know."

"Whatever."

Jackson said nothing more. Sage kept quiet too, tightening her grip on the steering wheel to keep her irritation under control. Really, if she thought about it, she could have ended up just the same as Jackson. Her parents never spoiled her the way that Jackson's parents did, but she still wore fancy dresses every day and her brother always got the best lacrosse gear. After their deaths and being raised by Derek and Laura, the materialism of things became unimportant. They made sure of that. That showed in the fact that she wore the same leather jacket nearly every day, and Derek still refused to let her buy a new car. The Connelly's were wealthy, but the difference was that Sage would rather have them back—have her family back—than all of the money that they left behind. It meant little in comparison.

"I know what it's like, you know?"

Sage looked at him in confusion. "What?"

"Not having parents. I know what it's like," he explained, pausing for a second as he adjusted his shoulder. "I mean. I have my adoptive parents, but I never knew my biological ones. It isn't the same. Sometimes...I don't know. I guess it just feels like I've been living with these strangers my entire life, and I shared these memories with people that should have just been random faces in a store or movie theater. Not my parents."

Sage quieted as she thought, pursing her lips as she processed what Jackson just told her. "I think it would be easier that way."

"What?" he asked, turning to her with disbelief.

"I just mean, in a way, you're lucky. Having memories with them makes it harder because you just think of everything you shouldn't have said and everything you never did. I would never give up those moments...but I also think it would be easier to move on if I never had any of them at all," she explained, surprising herself at the honesty. "But I guess neither one of them is easy. You're going to miss them either way."

"Can you even miss someone you never knew?"

"I think so," she nodded. "You can miss the idea, you know? The possibilities, I guess."

Jackson frowned, fiddling with his lacrosse shorts. "Yeah. I guess."

They didn't say anything else after that. The conversation itself was stepping out of boundaries for them. The last person in the world that she ever thought she would be talking so deeply with was Jackson Whittemore. Even more so, the fact that they were able to talk without fighting. God forbid, Sage and Jackson ever had anything in common. Still, even the smallest sliver of that conversation showed Sage that there might be something more to the Whittemore boy. Both of them were feeling the discomfort at that point, and only when reality came back did they realize that they had pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. She was silent as she helped him out of the car, ignoring the curse of pain that he barked in her ear. Thirty six antagonizing steps led the two teenagers inside of the hospital to the receptionist's desk, where a familiar face appeared.

"Miss McCall?"

Melissa McCall hadn't aged a day in the last six years. Her curly, brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail today, showing her face. When the woman looked up at the sound of her name, Sage couldn't help but ache in her heart. Melissa's eyes softened at the sight of Sage, doing a once-over of the girl. No doubt, she was recognizing how much she had grown from the little girl she was so long ago. Her kind, motherly eyes traveled from Sage over to the arm that she had slung over her shoulder. Instantly, the warmth turned into concern as she quickly rushed her way around the front desk.

"What happened?" she asked, her hands going immediately to where he was clutching his shoulder.

Sage stepped in before Jackson had the chance to say that her son caused the injury. "Lacrosse accident on the field during practice. I think it might be dislocated, but I couldn't really tell."

"All right. Jackson, I need to sign you in and get your parents' contact information. We'll get you set up for an x-ray to make sure that it isn't any more damage, but..." Melissa paused to glance down at his shoulder, pressing slightly down to Jackson's dismay, "...it looks like it's just a dislocation. I can fix it myself and get you started on some steroids for the swelling, but we'll have a doctor look at it just in case. Have a seat."

Melissa helped Sage lead Jackson to a seat with only a small eyeroll from Sage. Really, his legs weren't broken. She had a feeling he was just wanting to suck up as much of the attention on him as possible. As Melissa turned to make her way back to the front desk, she stood over Jackson with a frown. His keys were once again dangling on her index finger, and she went to hold them out in front of him.

Before he could grab them, she yanked them back into her palm. "If I give you these, are you going to try and drive home the second that I leave?"

"Probably," Jackson said, honestly. He went to shrug, but a wince shut that idea down. "I'd still drive better than you with a dislocated shoulder."

"Don't forget who has the keys in their hand, Jackass," she warned. "But since you were so honest, I'm giving them to Melissa. She'll let your parents handle it whenever they get here."

"They probably won't even show up."

"They legally have to show up, Jackson. You're a minor. You can't make executive decisions to receive steroids yourself. They have to approve of it."

He looked up at her with a blank expression. "Never stopped them before."

"Why don't you call Lydia?"

"Right," he scoffed. "Like she'd sit in here for hours."

Sage paused, her hand loosening its hold on the keys as she stared down at him with a frown. Was there really no one else that would sit with him while he waited? Her lip pulled back as she bit on it, trying to make a quick decision on what she should do. The involuntary cringe in her mind made her want to find the quickest escape just to rid herself of Jackson's presence, but the growing moral compass in her gut only made the seat next to him look nice. Oh, hell. She grumbled under her breath before she flung herself in the chair, immediately sliding down to get comfortable.

Jackson looked over at her like she was insane, brows raising in question. "What the hell are you doing? Seriously, leave. I've spent enough quality time with you today to last me a lifetime."

"Yeah, well, that makes two of us," she huffed out. Her hands went out to lay on her stomach, outstretching her legs in front of her. "Now, you'll have even more so I can torment you after you're dead."

"Wonderful..." Jackson paused, his eyes going from her to the waiting area of the hospital. The conversation from earlier was still fresh on his mind, reminding him of something. Frowning, he looked back over at her. "Wait, is this the first time you've been here since—"

The way that her body tensed up was enough of an answer. "Mhm."

"Seriously, Sage. Go home."

"I can't avoid every place that they used to be. There would be too many places to hide from. I did that for six years," she glanced over at him briefly. "I'm fine. Just weird seeing how it looks the same. I used to come here practically every night with Luke to bring Dad dinner, and we always used to race to that vending machine and back."

There were a lot of memories resurfacing everywhere she went in Beacon Hills, and the hospital that her father used to work at was no exception. She could hear her and Luke's laughter as they raced each other, the warnings of the nurses, and every instance in between. It sucked. She wanted nothing more than to walk out those doors and never come back, but that wasn't something she could do. Life moved on, and she couldn't keep trying to pretend that it didn't.

Her family and Jackson Whittemore were both two very different examples of that, and she had to face the truth sooner or later that Beacon Hills had considerably changed. Bearing that in mind, she closed her eyes and tried to ignore the bustling of the waiting room like it was not the same sound in her nightmares. 

―――――――――――

"You...you threatened him. With murder."

Sage gaped, mouth wide in shock, at her best friend in the driver's seat. His hands tightened on the steering wheel at the accusation in her tone, but said nothing as he continued on the drive to the high school. After Derek picked her up from the hospital yesterday, she explained to him the damage that Jackson was looking at. Melissa was able to fix the dislocation and put him on steroids to reduce the swelling, like she'd said, but both she and the doctor were still waiting on his next check-up to see how he was healing. Most importantly, to Jackson at least, he wanted to know if he would be able to play the start of the season on Saturday.

Derek, however, had decided to spend his evening threatening Scott. After dropping her off at the Hale house, he was off again. She had her assumptions about where he was going, and now that he had finally told her that morning on the way to school, she wanted nothing more than to whack him upside the head with her backpack.

"Derek, they already think you were involved in Laura's murder, and you tell him that you'll kill him?" she said with a groan, bringing her hands up to her face in exasperation. "God, I can't imagine why him and Stiles are suspicious of you. Really, you've been a model citizen since we came back. You know, I am so proud of you."

Derek rolled his eyes at the teenager's dramatics. "He can't play in that game on Saturday, Sage."

"I know that, but you could have used a better method of convincing him not to play other than threatening to murder him!" she snapped, glaring over at him. "He's not going to listen to you. He's a teenage boy. He cares more about his damn reputation and getting the girl to like him than your empty threats."

"Well, the girl that he's trying to impress is the daughter of a hunter," he reminded, darting her a look from the corner of his eye. "And if Argent shows up to that game, he's going to know about Scott―and my threats weren't empty, by the way. He's scared of me."

She scowled at him. "Really? I can't imagine why. This isn't what I meant when I told you to help him. This is the complete opposite. Literally, the complete opposite, Derek."

"You never specified the kind of help you wanted me to give him."

"Oh, my God. Drop me off before I kill you."

His lip turned up slightly as he pulled into the parking lot of the school. "That's kind of hypocritical."

"No," she said, her eye twitching slightly from annoyance. She wasn't sure her face could look any more irritated if she tried. "My threat isn't empty. I don't want to scare you. I'll actually just kill you."

"Get out of my car," he said, rolling his eyes. Sage ignored the urge to hit him once again, choosing to focus her anger on unbuckling her seatbelt and throwing the car door open. Just as she stepped out and into the onset of teenage chaos, Derek leaned over to look at her through the window. "And have a great day, kiddo!"

She didn't bother turning around to see him, throwing a middle finger up behind her back. "Plotting it as we speak!"

"Plotting what?"

Sage stopped in her place, her hand going down to her side as she looked over in surprise. Stiles stood in front of her, wearing a green, plaid shirt on top of a regular grey one. The thought made her lip quirk up a bit, realizing that the boy must have a thing for plaid shirts. However, it fell quickly when she realized that he was not staring at her, but at the Camaro leaving behind her shoulder. She sighed immediately, seeing the suspicion written clearly in his brown eyes. Obviously, neither boy had let up on thinking that Derek had something to do with Laura's murder.

"Plottering to murder the entire town," she said before sending him a look when his eyes widened over at her. "He didn't do anything, Stiles. You and Scott need to stop looking at him like he just killed fifty people in front of you. He's my best friend. I think I'd know if he was killing people behind my back. "

Stiles frowned, his hands going up to hold his backpack straps tightly. "Did he tell you what he did to Scott?"

"I know what Scott did to Jackson," Sage retorted, moving so that the two of them could begin walking to English. She glanced over at Stiles as she followed the path to the hallways. "Look, I know that things are getting extremely complicated right now and I haven't given you any answers, but...I can explain. Everything, from what is going on with Scott to why Derek is acting the way that he is. I just need you to give me a bit of time to figure things out."

"Is that going to be before or after Scott tears my head off?" he scoffed. "You should have seen him yesterday—"

Sage stopped in her place, raising a hand to his chest to stop him as well. "Wait, what happened yesterday?"

"Well...uh, you saw what happened on the field..." Stiles swallowed, glancing down at her hand on his chest. "I tried to take Scott to the locker rooms to get him to calm down, and he—uh...well, he tried to kill me? On accident. It's fine, really! I handled it—"

"He tried to kill you?"

Sage grabbed a hold of his upper arm this time, dragging the boy to the side of the hallway between a classroom door and the end of the lockers. Stiles might have protested if he wasn't too busy getting flustered, his cheeks heating up as he glanced down at Sage. They were very close, and he could practically touch where her crossed arms almost met with his chest. Albeit, there was only four or five inches of height difference, but it was still enough for him to look down to meet her green eyes. Eyes that, right now, could not have been more wide if they tried.

"Really—really, it's fine," Stiles said quickly, waving off the look with a frown. "He didn't know what he was doing. He just got too worked up and angry because of lacrosse practice—"

Sage gave him a look at that. "And you really think that he should be playing Saturday if he almost killed his best friend during practice?"

"I never said it was a good idea...but he won't listen to me. He's already talked to Coach, and if he doesn't play on Saturday, he's being pulled from first-line. I really think that is his worst fear, right now—you know, even bigger than the fact that he's a freaking we—"

"Stiles," she interrupted, for the second time. He sighed, dramatically running his hand down the side of his face. "You need to convince him not to play before Saturday."

"Because Derek will kill him?"

"Because he will kill someone," she corrected.

Stiles was quiet after that, surprisingly. He looked at her to see the serious expression on her face and sighed deeply, his hand slipping from his face. "Fine. I'll talk to him again and figure something out...but, just so you know, you owe me a lot of explanations. How do I even know we're on the same team here?"

"I guess you're just going to have to trust me."

"Yeah. I've been doing that a lot lately."

Sage shrugged gently, giving him another brief look. Stiles started to realize she did that a lot. Rather than speaking how she was feeling, she just gave a lot of looks that showed what she was thinking. Although he wasn't a mind reader, it was becoming increasingly easy with every conversation to figure out what she was trying to tell him. Even though those conversations were usually revolving around a life-or-death supernatural situation, and he'd only ever had a handful of them with his old best friend, there was some kind of hope growing. Maybe, she wasn't as much a stranger to him after all. 

―――――――――――

Sage had been sitting in the waiting room for the past twenty minutes. Lydia Martin was to the right of her talking on her bluetooth and her voice was already beginning to irritate her, so much so that she thought her ears were going to start bleeding at any moment's notice. She didn't have a problem with Lydia, it was just that they had never been great friends before. There were too many reasons as to why Lydia was someone that she didn't want to associate herself with, having had enough with the shallow act the girl played a long time ago. 

Much like with Jackson, it didn't seem like it was possible for them to ever get over their differences. Sage didn't see a conversation with this girl. There was no denying the small interest and curiosity that she had coming back to town, wondering if the people that she left would be the same when she came back. A part of her hoped that Lydia had changed since the last time they saw each other, that maybe she was finally acknowledging the existence of Stiles Stilinski, but nothing. She was the exact same person with brighter hair than before.

Sage's head shot up from her phone when she saw a figure walk up to the receptionist desk, and she was even more confused when she saw that it was Stiles Stilinski. He had his head turned away from herself and Lydia, but by the way it was craned she knew that he already caught sight of them. That was when she put the pieces together and realized he was trying to avoid Lydia, or at the very least, figure out what in the hell he was going to say to her. 

The teenage boy seemed to cringe at his own awkwardness before owning up and waving at the strawberry blonde in the chair next to Sage. "Hey, Lydia!" 

The latter it is, then. 

"You probably don't remember me. I sit behind you in biology?" Stiles made it out to be question, and Sage looked over to see Lydia twirling her hair. "Uh, anyways. I always thought that we just had this, kind of, connection— you know, unspoken, of course. Maybe, it'd be, kind of, cool to get to know each other a little better." 

"Hold on, give me a second," Lydia said, taking out the blue tooth that was in her ear. Sage scowled when she saw Stiles' face drop, immediately feeling bad. "I didn't get any of what you just said. Is it worth repeating?" 

"I— no. Sorry." Stiles took his hand off the wall, and Sage watched him walk to the other side, going to sit down. "I'm just going to uh, sit." 

Sage decided to get up from the seat she was in and join Stiles. When she sat down, he looked over at her then groaned. She sighed at him, patting his shoulder affectionally. "That was brutal." 

"Shut up." He ignored her and picked up a pamphlet that was on the table next to him, completely ignoring her. 

 "Oh, come on, Stilinski. Talk to me. I'm a good listener." 

"No, you can't do that. You can't recycle my words!" Stiles exclaimed, taking his eyes away to look at her, baffled. She repeated the same sentence that he said after school the first day she came back, but that didn't mean it gave her the right to completely reuse it against him. He didn't realize when he said that how completely complicated Sage Connelly was, and how much he would be getting into by associating with her. 

The blonde shrugged absentmindedly. "I just did. Now, suck it up and put down the period pamphlet."

Before Stiles could voice his irritation, Lydia interrupted him. "Did they do it?" 

Jackson had returned, rolling his shoulder around as he gripped it tightly. His eyes met with her for a split second before returning back to his girlfriend. "They said not to make a habit of it, but one cortisone shot won't kill me." 

"You should get one right before the game too," Lydia encouraged. Jackson looked at her like she was insane, and Sage glowered. Stiles caught the look, but she was already rolling her eyes and looking away from the couple. "The pros do it all the time. You want to be a little, high school amateur? Or do you want to go pro?" 

Sage had already looked away when they started to kiss. Stiles, however, was staring at the couple, completely opposite of what she was doing. She didn't see how anyone in their right mind would want to see that, but the boy next to her proved the thought wrong. Only when they finally pulled their mouths from each other did Stiles stop looking and Sage met eyes with Jackson for a split second, a silent goodbye told between the two of them as she moved her attention away from the couple.

Clearing her throat, Sage got the boy's attention. "Well, I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow, alright?" 

Stiles nodded, but he still seemed distracted with the idea of Lydia Martin. There wasn't a chance in hell that he would ever get over the girl, more than likely trying to imagine what his life would be like if she was his girlfriend instead of Jackson's. The thought was something that nearly had Sage envious of Lydia, which would have been a first, but she swallowed down the idea. She was already accepting to the idea that no one would want to waste their time pining over a relationship with her. She was always placed in too many troublesome situation for them to ever feel comfortable with how many secrets she kept. Shaking her head, Sage left Stiles there with his period pamphlet. 

         ―――――――――――

Sage had been correct about seeing Stiles tomorrow. She just didn't think it would be when they arrested her best friend. The cops had showed up at the Hale house later in the day, only an hour before the lacrosse game was about to start. Sage was taken out reluctantly while another deputy went to go find her best friend inside of the house. The worst part wasn't that Derek was being arrested, or even that Stiles and Scott were responsible for it. The worst part was that Laura was being dug up from her grave, and they actually thought Derek was the one who murdered her. 

The blonde watched as Derek walked towards the police cruiser in handcuffs, sending a nod her way. Both of them knew that he would be getting out soon enough, presumably even tonight because the examiners would eventually find that a wolf killed Laura. An alpha. There was no way for them to tie him to the murder of Laura, no matter how confident people might be on that statement. Sage wasn't worried at all. Not for Derek, at least. She was concerned about what Derek will do to the two boys once he gets released. 

"Sage? Do you have any other guardian to stay with for the time being?" Sheriff Stilinski asked, his arms crossing over his chest as he gave the teenage girl a sad smile. He noticed how she refused to take her eyes away from the older man in the police cruiser, only sparing a glance at him when he decided to question her on where else she could go for the time.

Sage couldn't help but let her lips curl up in amusement, eyebrows furrowing slightly as she looked at the man. "They're all dead, remember? Besides, it's not like he's going to be in there long." 

"I wouldn't bet on that, Sage," Sheriff denied, although the tone he used clearly showed his distress towards leaving her without a guardian. He glanced down at his notebook, an entire page consisting of theories and logistical reasons as to why Derek could be the one responsible for his sister's murder. "There's quite a bit of evidence here against him."

"I would," Sage disagreed. 

She pursed her lips as she glanced behind the man to see a sight that had her eyes rolling. The culprit of her best friend's arrest was, idiotically, entering into the car that Derek was locked away in. She didn't see how he could possibly believe that he had he would get answers for anything when he was the reason her best friend was wearing handcuffs. She diverted her eyes back to the man in front of her, frowning deeply.

"Your son is talking to Derek." 

The Sheriff gave her a look in confusion. "What?" 

"Stiles. He's in the car talking to Derek."

 Sheriff Stilinski looked behind him to see that Sage was correct, and that his son had occupied a spot in the passenger's seat of the cruiser. Somehow, the teenage boy had gotten past the deputies. Sheriff muttered a small apology to the blonde in front of him before jogging over to where his son was creating trouble. Sage saw that the Sheriff had the situation under control, so she made her way back inside. 

To her surprise, it wasn't even fifteen minutes when she got a call from Stiles himself. She was genuinely surprised that his father hadn't locked him away in a jail cell given how much he had been involved, from going searching for Laura's body all the way to leading an investigation himself to wrongly accuse Derek for a crime. 

She immediately scowled at his name, the events from earlier still hot on her mind. "What the hell do you want, Stiles? You going to tell your dad to arrest me, too?" 

"No, no, Sage! Look, Scott—"

Stiles tried to speak, but Sage's anger got the best of her. "I don't give a shit anymore, Stiles. I'm not going to keep playing babysitter for the two of you. You get yourself into a shitty situation? Have fun getting the hell out of it." 

"You don't understand!" Stiles cried out, his words frantic as he stumbled between trying to explain that he needed her help and trying to apologize for what he did, even if it was right in his mind.

Sage did not have the patience for his words, though. "No. I do understand, Stiles. I understand perfectly. Right now, I'm a little bit pissed that you got my only friend arrested. Were you even thinking of me? At all? Or were you just so hung up on the idea that Derek was the bad guy? He doesn't deserve any of this." 

"Sage, listen, I'm sorry." 

"Whatever, Stiles. I'll be there soon." 

She hung up the phone before he could thank her for for showing up, and began getting ready for the big game tonight. If Derek wasn't going to be there to stop Scott, she was going to try her damn hardest to do it herself. 

―――――――――――

Sage got to the game slightly late, just as everyone began to sit down. Her eyes roamed around the sea of maroon, look for a jersey with the number eleven on it. She found Stiles first, who was staring forward at a couple that Sage immediately recognized as Lydia and Scott. The strawberry blonde held the werewolf in a compromising position, her hands wrapped tightly into his jersey as she pulled him closer to talk to him. 

"You going to give me a kiss for good luck?" a voice asked from behind her, too annoyingly familiar for the blonde. Whipping her head around, she looked to see that it was Jackson.

"You going to give me an explanation for why you're playing?" she replied, raising her eyebrows. She was genuinely concerned for the well-being of Jackson. If he screwed up his shoulder anymore it would be permanently damaged and he may never play again. Plus, she didn't want to endure that again herself. "Don't be a fucking idiot just to upscale your big ass ego. You're going to get hurt."

"I'm fine to play, Sage." 

"Right. Is that why Lydia is making sure Scott plays his best tonight? Because last I recall, you didn't need anyone's help on the field," she said, waiting for a response.

Jackson's eyes traveled past her head to notice that his girlfriend was just pulling out of the intimate stance she had with Scott, and his jaw clenched for a second before he was returning his attention back to the blonde in front of him. He wasn't going to lie and say it didn't amuse him to see that Sage Connelly was showing concern for him, of all people.

"Don't worry about it, I'll be fine, and if I get hurt, you can kiss the booboo and make it all better," Jackson grinned with a cocky expression before leaving her standing there. She rolled her eyes at the lacrosse player's arrogance and went to sit in the front of the stands.

The game started, and Sage watched as the team got the ball, passing it towards everyone aside from Scott. She wasn't the only one to notice considering she had a good view of Stiles, who was busy chewing on his gloves. She wasn't as nervous as Stiles was, mostly because if Scott did end up transitioning, she could get him out of here quickly. Sage could only sink into absolute confusion when she saw Jackson shove Scott to the side, picking up the ball to make the goal himself. She obviously said the wrong words of encouragement to him because now he was playing as if he had something to prove — that was that he was better than Scott. She could practically feel Scott's temper rising from where she sat. 

While everyone else started cheering, she stayed sitting. Jackson's eyes drifted to her for a split second before they soared the roaring crowd. When something hit the back of her head, she looked to see Lydia and Allison holding up a poster saying 'WE LUV U JACKSON' in bold letters. That was when she got fed up and went from the stands to the bench, taking a place in between Stiles and another bench-warmer that wouldn't be seeing the field any time soon. 

"This wouldn't be happening if you didn't get him arrested, you know," she said as she watched them get ready to go again. 

Stiles turned to her, glove in his mouth, and she saw him glare. It was becoming a usual thing for the two. The ball flew up in the air, and Sage was on the edge of her seat as she watched Scott hurl himself over an opposing player to get it. After taking it, he managed to surpass all the other attempts to retain the ball, and scored. Unlike when Jackson scored, Sage found herself standing and cheering with the rest of the crowd. 

"McCall, pass to McCall!" Coach shouted while Stiles screamed behind him, overly excited that his best friend scored. When Scott stood in front of the boy who had the lacrosse ball, Sage could see that his eyes were beginning to glow; the ball was thrown directly to Scott. "Did the other team just deliberately pass us the ball?" 

"Yes. I believe so, Coach," Stiles answered, clasping his hands tightly from beside Sage. 

"Interesting." 

And then it was a tie. Scott got a hold of the ball once again, but Sage felt her stomach drop when she saw his breaths fogging up the air. It was obvious he was beginning to transition, and she grabbed a hold of Stiles' hand as her support system. She couldn't just run out on the field and grab him, or even strip naked in front of all these people. Lacrosse even overtops boobs in this town. The only thing she could do was watch. 

"No, Scott. No. No," Stiles muttered, standing up and pulling Sage with him.

With a second left in the game, Scott managed to throw the ball into the goal. Beacon Hills High School just won their first game of the season. Sage let out a breath of relief, and felt arms wrap around her waist, lifting her up. She laughed at Stiles, throwing her arms around his neck. As if realizing what he just did, Stiles quickly dropped her to the ground, and stared with wide eyes. While everyone began to disperse onto the field, Sage looked over to see that Sheriff Stilinski hadn't. He was on the phone, and Sage knew why. 

"I have to go, Stiles."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[Edit almost a year and a half later] I regret writing that scene. Yay to my adolescent choices. 

[Edit two and a half years later] I regret a lot of my writing in this story.

(2020 edit) There was a kiss scene between Jackson and Sage in this. Due to the amount of comments slut shaming Sage (and because I did not like the scene itself, it was not my best work and as a thirteen year old, that was just not a good decision), I decided to delete the scene and rewrite it. This is EDITED. Which means there may be mentions later on in the story of a kiss that did not happen.