To: Raebae
From: Stiles
Care to explain why there's a Porsche in my driveway????

To: Batman
From: Unknown
Care to explain why you're looking up deer-related vehicle collisions?

To: Raebae
How do you know that? & why do your messages say from Unknown?

To: Batman
Because I was going to prank you & I forgot to change my settings back. By the way, I'm behind you.

"Morning, Sunshine." Rachel grinned, leaning over Stiles' shoulder. She'd been hiding underneath his bed ever since he'd left it & the room over an hour ago to run downstairs for breakfast (which consisted of a lone, un-toasted bagel with nothing on it & nothing to drink— Rachel was disgusted).

Stiles jumped, letting out a girlish shriek & nearly falling out of his chair in the process. "What the hell? When did you even get here?"

"My flight landed around 2am. I wasn't tired, so I drove here." She shrugged, leaning on the computer desk. She was mildly tempted to question his sudden interest in deer collisions, but opted to set that aside for later— it was 7:30am, school was in an hour, and she had a hell of a lot to catch up on before she was ready to throw herself back into high school.

"Here? Of all places? Didn't you want to see your b—"

"I sincerely hope you're about to say brother, or you better start making funeral arrangements." Rachel grumbled, remembering how Jackson hadn't stopped pestering her with another B word. By the time she left for the airport yesterday, she was so close to killing him, the humour in the situation had long faded. "I was going to. But he's been ignoring my texts for the past month, and you-know-who has too. I stopped by Scott's but he was exercising. And reading. At the same time. I'm not even going to bother with Lydia & Allison moved— that left you as my last resort."

"Glad to see I rank high on your list of go-to people." Stiles remarked, returning his attention to the screen of his computer as he continued scrolling through an article.

"Have you even seen Derek & you-know-who?"

"You mean Isaac?" The teen questioned, clearly aware that was who she meant. "No."

"Not at all?"

"Not even once."

"Dammit." Rachel muttered, standing up & pacing slowly across the room. Teenagers didn't just disappear from the face of the Earth— even if the aforementioned teenager was a werewolf & (former) introvert. He was with Derek & Peter, and they were up to something; she knew it & now that she was back in Beacon Hills, her two elder relatives couldn't avoid her calls & texts or respond with only emojis.

"Have you tried, oh, I don't know, calling him? Sending a text? "Hey, how ya doing?" maybe "Sup, let's chat" or anything at all?" Stiles remarked sarcastically, his gaze never leaving the computer screen.

"Sup let's chat? What am I, a freaking booty call?" The reflector sounded appalled & she most definitely was. There was no way in hell she'd never text that to anyone, not even as a joke. She'd seen that sent to a certain blonde barista every damn time she stole Jackson's phone & it physically hurt her. "I kissed him & then I ditched him for 4 months. If anything, I'm a bitch."

"You could've texted.. Or maybe went to talk to him before jumping on a plane with Jackson & leaving the country."

"But he didn't text me." Rachel argued, trying to make herself feel less horrible— she'd been blocking out the regret while in London, but now that she was back, it was getting a bit harder not to let it hit her like a brick. "And he knew I was leaving. You & Scott drove me to the airport."

"You still didn't tell me why Jackson's Porsche is in the driveway. He didn't seriously give you that thing, did he?" Stiles asked, trying to change the subject. Just about every phone call they'd had while she was in London had been about Isaac & he was really beginning to hate the guy.

"Don't change the subject." Rachel snapped, her eyes narrowing into slits. "But no. I bought it."

"Do you even have a license?"

"No. Now can we please go back to talking about what I really want to talk about?"

"Nope, 'cause it's 8 & I want to get to school early so I can go to the library." Stiles smiled smugly, shutting off his computer. He tossed the half-eaten bagel that'd been sitting on his desk in a trash bin & grabbed his backpack before walking towards the doorway. "Coming?"

"Yep." The brunette responded unenthusiastically. "Oh, by the way, we're taking the Porsche & you're explaining your newfound deer collision obsession. No arguing, I'll stuff you in the trunk if I have to."

"It doesn't have a trunk."

"Does it look like I care?"

—

Rachel had missed a lot.

A lot more than Stiles had told her on the phone & through texts, even if most of what she'd missed had gone on whilst she was on a plane home. In the past twenty-four hours alone, Scott had gotten a tattoo (which she didn't need to ask to know healed shortly after), Derek had begun ignoring them as well, and a deer had run straight through the windshield of Lydia's parked car. It unfortunately didn't surprise Rachel whatsoever; Beacon Hills had been normal & uneventful for four whole months, so of course the day she chose to return, the typical weird & supernatural bullshit she desperately wanted to avoid would return as well.

Regardless, it didn't seem to annoy her to the extent that it once would have. Rachel believed the reasoning to be that she was still in her London mindset, one of which blocked out the various supernatural theories & only allowed in boring everyday thoughts: though she knew it would soon fade, she chose to hold onto the last bit of human normalcy for as long as possible.

The past half hour had consisted of her, Scott & Stiles wandering around the school grounds & catching up, after Stiles had found that the library was out of commission. She'd been telling them hilarious stories of Jackson striking out with various girls, courtesy of Rachel staging the apartment with Justin Bieber posters, Dora the Explorer merchandise & a ratty old bunny suit every time he tried bringing someone home. One time she'd even gone as far as pretending to be his ex & telling the girl he cries his way through sex— that's what he got for bringing home randoms he met at bars & clubs. The apartment had painfully thin walls, and what had been heard could not be unheard, especially with werewolf hearing; she'd learned that within the first few weeks & was now going to spend forever trying to forget it.

After she'd run out of interesting things to tell, Scott began reminiscing about what they'd done all summer here; and it truly had been as boring as Stiles had described. They'd practiced lacrosse four times per week, Stiles got his ass kicked in just about every video game known to man, Scott studied & Stiles continued playing video games, this time online & against people he could actually beat (rather than his werewolf best friend with superhuman reflexes who refused to let him win). They'd gone to the beach once; that had been equally as boring— the only highlight being when Stiles tried to talk to a girl & got knocked out by a volleyball.

Rachel had to admit, it felt good to be back in her hometown, yet still maintain a sense of normalcy. She was expecting to be thrown directly into a hurricane of supernatural, and even though she had yet to inquire on what Derek & Peter were up to (or see Isaac at school; she wouldn't admit it, but in the midst of wandering around with Scott & Stiles, she was looking for him) she wasn't as worried as she should have been. At least, not until she was on the way to first period English & caught sight of two missing posters binned to a bulletin board.

Erica & Boyd, both of whom had been gone for no more than a week when she'd left, were now considered missing & had been for the past four months. Rachel knew they'd gone off to find a new pack, one that could offer more protection than Derek could, but would they really leave their families behind without so much as a phone call to tell them they're alright? As relieved as she was to see that there wasn't a third poster up alongside the other two, she couldn't help but wonder— is that what Derek was doing? Devoting his time to finding them? If they're with someone else now, they're no longer his responsibility, so why would he waste so much time searching?

Rachel wanted nothing more than to ditch English, make her way down to the charred remnants of her home to interrogate whoever she found within the vicinity of it, but being that she had been informed by Stiles that the county had taken it over & at seventeen years of age she wasn't exactly able to access her inheritance to buy the damn property, she would more than likely end up back in jail for trespassing. She'd used most of the money she had saved to buy Jackson's Porsche (because pissing him off was far more important than a savings account in the brunette's mind) & with her brother back to lurking in the shadows, she'd have no one with a wallet deep enough to bail her out. Rest assured, Rachel locked in a holding cell for trespassing on her own property would not end well for everyone in the police station.

Instead, the girl found herself in English class, seated behind Lydia Martin. Stiles was beside the aforementioned strawberry blonde in the next row over, whilst Allison sat in the front row, Scott directly behind her. Rachel almost felt bad for her— being that they'd broken up & she left for four months, but she had to face him eventually. Sooner was better than later; Rachel knew the importance of that all too well, but she was doing the best to ignore the thoughts trying to force their way into her mind. That was an after school problem.

Just as Rachel was going to click onto one of the many pointless gaming apps she'd downloaded onto her phone over the summer, it buzzed with a text message from an unknown number. The brunette furrowed her brows, tapping the little bar at the top of her screen & beginning to scan the paragraph; but before she could fully process more than five of the words on the screen, a feminine voice began to read them aloud to the class. "The offing was barred by a black bank of cloud and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky, seemed to lead into the heart of immense darkness."

Rachel looked up to see the owner of the voice, who she assumed to be Ms. Blake, reading the same text from her own phone. The teacher, who couldn't have been over 30, set the phone down on her desk & turned to face the class with a smile that practically screamed "it's my first day, please don't hate me!" with a hint of smugness mixed in, likely due to the fact that she'd somehow managed to successfully retrieve the cellphone numbers of every student in her class. "This is the last line to the first book we are going to read. It is also the last text you will receive in this class. Phones off, everyone."

"Way to spoil the ending." Rachel mumbled quietly under her breath, as if she was actually interested in whatever book the woman had selected for them to read. She wasn't— unless it was one of the Pretty Little Liars books, then she'd more than likely have it completed by tomorrow. Going along with the teacher's final instruction with her own modification, Rachel turned her phone on silent & tucked it under her leg; a method she'd been using for awhile now. Her phone could be turned off when she was dead (because that was the only way it'd die too). If she was going to receive a text in a classroom full of her friends who had their phones off, it was certainly going to be an important one & she wasn't waiting an hour & a half to check it. This way, she could occasionally check whenever Ms. Blake's back was turned & the woman would never be the wiser.

Thirty minutes later, her plan seemed to be working.

Ms. Blake had assigned them a random book assignment Rachel believed was simply to buy her some time to come up with a real lesson plan, but nonetheless she remained quiet & worked on it. It was painfully easy, and within twenty minutes she'd been done; since then, she had been watching Scott & Allison attempt to pass notes as inconspicuously as possible (which, evidently, was not all that inconspicuous as Scott frequently dropped the small piece of paper while he attempted to look like he was focusing on his assignment). She was dying a slow death, courtesy of the boredom that had set in during those ten minutes of watching them.

"Mister McCall?" Ms. Blake's voice interrupted the silence, making just about every head in the classroom shoot up to look for the cause.

Stiles & Rachel were included in that majority, both watching Scott with furrowed brows & expressions of confusion as he walked to the front of the room. Rachel attempted to focus her hearing on the conversation, but found as soon as she tried, a dull ache began to form in the back of her skull. The aforementioned ache quickly escalated in intensity, so much that the brunette had to bite down on her lip to the point of drawing blood to avoid from crying out. Of the few times it'd happened, she swore each time she experienced the pain it doubled, possibly even tripled to an intensity she could only compare to a bullet piercing straight into her head & remaining there.

"Rae?" Stiles whispered to her, unaware of what was going on in her mind. "Can you hear anything they're saying?"

"N—No." She choked out, her nails cutting into the palms of her hands as she waited for the migraine to pass. From what she knew so far, they didn't normally last long; but as they were getting worse, what she knew couldn't exactly act as a guarantee.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his concern only growing as he noticed the blood slowly beginning to pool around her hand on the desk.

She didn't respond, instead inhaling sharply as the door to the classroom opened & Ms. Blake walked back in. Rachel pulled at the sleeves of her jacket, using the black cuffs to wipe away the blood on the desk. She began to relax slightly as the pain gradually faded, her fingernails finally removing themselves from the puncture wounds in her hands & allowing them to heal. Rachel shot a glance towards Stiles, who was still looking back at her & nodded, forcing a small smile as Ms. Blake returned to her desk at the front.

Rachel was far from alright, okay or any other word used to describe being neither bad nor good. She was definitely bad; and becoming increasingly worried about her migraines & why the hell Scott was called out of class. The only explanations her brain could produce involved supernatural occurrences & unfortunately for her, that was the bitter reality.

Another bitter reality was that things were not normal in Beacon Hills. Not just the people, but things in general— particularly the animals. A deer had run straight into Lydia's parked car last night, and now, a lone black bird had splatted against the window. Just about everyone jumped from the loud noise, excluding Rachel who'd been warned of it literal milliseconds before the impact. She could sense it— not the bird about to smack against the glass, but the bird's emotions. She could feel what it felt right before hitting the window, and it was terrified.

From the fear radiating off one little bird, Rachel was almost expecting a giant vulture hit the glass next; that was the only possible way its fear would be justified. But that didn't happen; instead, another black bird smacked into the glass. And another, and another & another, until the only sounds filling the classroom were Ms. Blake's screams for everyone to get down beneath their desks & shield themselves as best as possible from both the birds & shards of glass, both of which were flying every which way throughout the room.

Rachel cared little to none of the small injuries being inflicted on her as she made sure all her friends were as shielded as possible before she took a seat under her desk, covering her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. She felt one of the dying birds scratch across her forehead before she swatted it away, whilst a piece of glass lodged itself in her leg as she tried to move; neither bothered her much though, as she was already too consumed by the sounds of her classmates screaming & the fear radiating around her.

One moment it was complete & utter chaos, the next, everything fell silent. The screams stopped, nearly all the birds were either dead or too injured to move & slowly, students were peeking out from behind cover to see if it was finally safe to come out. Dead birds & shards of glass littered the floor as students began to stand, just about everyone covered in small cuts & feathers. Rachel turned her attention to her leg for a moment, pinching the small shard of glass that'd cut through her jeans & slowly pulling it out, wincing slightly at the pain. It hurt less than it should've, likely due to her inability to dwell on it for more than three seconds as she looked over at her friends.

None seemed to be injured badly; aside from a few small scratches & slight mental scarring, they'd all be fine. Rachel paid no mind to her cuts aside from the small focus needed to prevent them from healing— she could feel it starting to kick in & she knew she couldn't hold it off for long, but before making an escape, she wanted to be sure her friends could deal without her. "You don't mind if I—"

"Go." Stiles mumbled, understanding as she gestured to the cut on her face that was slowly starting to fade. "Before the paramedics get here. If you find Scott— or anyone else, text me."

Rachel nodded, hurrying out the door before anyone could stop her or question.

—

UNEDITED.

I don't like the way I ended this but oh well, it's 4:30am & I have to be up by 10. The last scene was never supposed to happen; Rachel was originally going to go to the hospital but I figured if she's going to be a student, she should probably actually attend school once in awhile :~) I didn't plan on updating tonight but I just started writing & time felt like it was going by so slowly, I actually got an entire chapter done. Next chapter includes you-know-who & other stuff. Probably not the other stuff some people are currently thinking of, though. Minds out of the gutter, guys.

As always, comment opinions? I wonder what's up with those migraines..