Happiness was not something Rachel Hale experienced often. So when she finally did get it, she wasn't going to let it pass by quickly— even if said happiness only lasted a minute, she was going to live in that minute for as long as humanly possible.

By the time they'd gone back to the loft, it was 8am. By the time the two betas had woken up, it was 8pm. Running around the woods all night had proven to be tiring for them, but not for Rachel, who hadn't slept at all— except for a few minutes in the car. She couldn't sleep, even now knowing that her sister was safe. She had so many questions for her.

"How did you get out? Why didn't you come find us? Did you think we were dead? Where have you been living all these years? How did you even survive on your own when you were ten?" The questions she rambled off as soon as her twin awoke were seemingly endless, but the girl was more than happy to answer them all.

"I got out through a window. A support beam fell down & blocked it a minute later, no one else was with me that I know of. I thought you came home, I heard people outside. I thought it was you & Derek & Laura— I assumed all of you got blocked in with everyone else. I thought you died." Cora explained, obviously pained by the memories— her descriptions were vague, leading Rachel to believe she'd purposely been trying to forget for the years she'd been gone; just like she had. "As soon as I got out, I saw the hunters so I ran & never looked back. I hitchhiked to the border, where I stayed for awhile before I met a pack. I followed them to South America where I've been ever since, until I heard about Derek."

"We didn't come home until the house was practically in ashes. It was Kate." Rachel had told her, just now realizing that the girl was completely unaware of everything that'd gone down. She didn't know Laura was dead, or that Peter had been the one to kill her— but Rachel was going to make sure she did, so she didn't make the mistake of trusting him. "Kate Argent. Peter slashed her throat, right after he hunted & killed everyone who helped her."

"Peter's alive?"

Rachel nodded. "He was in a coma for 6 years. He started waking up on full moons, and with the help of his lunatic nurse, he lured Laura back to Beacon Hills & killed her for the alpha power. With that, he managed to heal fully & then went around enacting his plan of revenge, before we eventually caught him— Derek killed him, but he used one of my friends to resurrect himself."

"Is he—"

"A psychopath? Yes. We hate him. Please be mean to him. We're trying to get him to leave us alone, he's really clingy."

"I heard that!" Peter shouted from the other room, where he was watching Netflix on Rachel's laptop. Derek had left to drive Boyd home, and Isaac wouldn't talk to him— therefore he was out of options for entertainment. Rachel left her laptop on the coffee table; he assumed it was free for use.

Cora looked from Rachel to the doorway where the voice had emitted from. "Is he watching Pretty Little Liars?"

Rachel listened for a moment, before tuning in on the sound of her favourite show's theme song. "Oh my god."

Conversation for the next 12 hours had consisted of catching up on the past seven years— Rachel learning about Cora's life in South America, and Cora learning about Rachel's ever-changing life. The reflector told her about life on the road with Derek & Laura, then life with just Derek after her older sister had gone off on her own for awhile. The cheap motels, the inability to own more than what could fit in the trunk of a Camaro, the lack of friends, the everlasting unspoken fear that hunters were always trailing them; especially after an encounter a few years back. She learned the hard way that not everyone had a code like the Argents.

"One time we stayed at this horrible motel, they didn't even have a mini-fridge in the room. I think I was 11. It was a year or so after the fire, he was still paranoid they were after us. I was too, but not as bad. Derek wouldn't even let me walk around the block to the convenience store after I almost got shot last time— not by an Argent, obviously, it was some no-name amateur. Derek wouldn't even make a damn list of what I wanted— he just bought chips, cookies, bread & water; also known as what he wanted." Rachel laughed, explaining another hardship of living on the road with her brother. "I swear I would've gotten so fat if I didn't spend so much time running for my life."

"I hid in the back of a pick-up truck for 12 hours once. I didn't have a phone to call a cab, I didn't have any money either. So I hitched a ride when the guy was in buying gas— when he found me he almost killed me."

"I tried that once— only it was Derek who found me, and practically dragged me back to the hotel. Then I had to listen to Laura on the phone for over an hour, telling me all about how dangerous it was."

"Is he still like that?" Cora questioned, curious of how Derek had changed over the years. He joined in on their conversation for about a half hour around midnight, but left to go to sleep; which, was understandable. "Overprotective?"

"Eh." Rachel shrugged. He wasn't anywhere near as bad as he was right after the fire, but he had reason. "He tries to tell me not to do stuff, but I do it anyways. He's usually right when he tells me not to do something; I ended up trapped in a school with Scott & Stiles one night, but that's beside the point. He knows I can take care of myself— I've gotten pretty good with these abilities over the years."

"Scott & Stiles?"

"Oh shit, I forgot to tell you." The reflector smiled. "I have friends now."

"Are they the ones who were out in the woods?" Cora asked her, having vague memories of the people she'd seen. Nothing from the full moon was ever clear enough to fully recall, though.

"Scott was one of them, Stiles was here with Peter. The guy in the woods with him was Isaac— the same guy you saw leaving for track a half hour ago." Rachel told her, the girl looking back in confusion. It took Rachel a moment to realize that she was confused of why he was here. "He lives here. It's a really long story—"

Before she could tell the aforementioned story, she was interrupted by her phone, blaring R3hab's latest single, Strong. Apparently when she set it the other day, she had turned the volume on full & forgotten to lower it. In her defence, it was one of those songs she couldn't not play at 100%. She retrieved the device from her pocket, the bright screen feeling like the sun in comparison to the dimly lit room they were in. It took a moment for her to see the screen, though when she did, she found it was an unknown number.

"I swear, if this is some psycho calling to tell me they're in my house, they're messing with the wrong supernatural abomination." Rachel muttered, her twin stifling a laugh at her as she swiped the screen to answer. "Hello?"

"Hale! Where the hell are you?" The voice on the other end screeched, nearly deafening her. "You were supposed to be here a half hour ago!"

She furrowed her brows, thinking for a moment, before coming to the conclusion that she was fucked. "Coach?"

"Who the hell did you think it was, the tooth fairy?"

"H-How did you get my number?"

"Stilinski. Don't wanna know why he had it." Coach snapped, sounding as angry as ever. "If your ass isn't on the track in the next twenty minutes, you're getting an F in all my classes."

"Wait, what?" She gaped. To have Coach freaking Finstock call her cell phone at 7:30am was a shock enough, but to now be informed that if she didn't get changed, run to school & then run some more, she'd be failing, was enough to make her want to scream. "Coach, can you even do that?"

"Can & will. 19 minutes & counting, Hale."

With that, he hung up.

"Oh my god." Cora laughed— she'd been keeping quiet for the call, but now that it was over, she couldn't pretend it wasn't absolutely hilarious. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything that I know of." Rachel yelled as she bolted to her room, tearing drawers open & grabbing a school-appropriate outfit. Why were all her shirts crop tops? God, she needed more t-shirts. "I'm not on the lacrosse team, I didn't sign up for track."

"Someone signed you up for track, because it sounds like you're on the team."

"Thank you for telling me, I never would have known." She sassed, kicking her door shut & quickly changing into the plain grey tank top & sweatpants she found— she knew the track team had clothes provided for them, but up until a minute & thirty seconds ago, she wasn't aware she would ever need them. Therefore, she did not get them. She swung her door open, finding Cora standing there, still laughing at her. "Do you think I can get there faster running or driving?"

"I don't think you should go at all without fixing your hair." The younger Hale twin commented, handing her an elastic band. "He can't really give you an F in all your classes, can he?"

"You heard the man." Rachel said, attempting to tie her hair up into a ponytail before realizing it was too short. Dammit. "He can & will."

"I'm starting to rethink enrolling at Beacon Hills high school."

"Sucks to suck, as soon as you're done healing, you're going." She smiled, hurrying out into the kitchen; if it could even be called that. She grabbed her schoolbag from near the doorway where she dropped it days ago & stuffed the first thing she found on the kitchen counter into it— a full size bag of chips. She'd had far worse lunches in the past. "14 minutes & counting."

"Good luck." Cora wished her twin the best before turning & going back to the centre of the loft. "If you don't make it in time come back & tell me more about your friends. They sound interesting."

"Will do." Rachel nodded, hurrying towards the door before stopping as she saw Cora doing push-ups. "Try not to kill yourself while I'm gone. You're not done healing; go watch Pretty Little Liars on my laptop."

"I'm already caught up. 13 minutes & counting." The werewolf smiled, tapping her wrist where a watch would be if she wore one.

"New plan: you're telling me your theory of who you think -A is when I get back. Don't die."

—

Rachel made it to the school in eleven minutes.

She was chased by an angry dog for three blocks & nearly hit by a bus, but she made it to the track with two minutes to spare. She felt like she had inhaled fire & burned her lungs beyond repair. Rachel was surprised she hadn't started coughing up blood— she had once before, after a particularly rough chase. Death had never felt closer than it had on that day; but today was definitely a close second. It would have been an entirely different story if she had a night full of sleep; but being that her night had consisted of fighting every urge to sleep so she could spend more time with her sister, Rachel was now exhausted.

Coach Finstock didn't give a shit.

"Hale!" He screamed as soon as he saw her. "I better not have to call an ambulance."

"No it's— it's fine, Coach. Running for my life— whether it be my education— or my actual life— has become sort of a hobby." She huffed, pausing every few words to inhale deeply. It didn't help much.

"That's nice."

"I meant to tell you on— on the phone. I didn't sign up for track. This has to be a mistake."

"No mistake. Your name's right here on the sign-up sheet." Coach held out the clipboard containing the sheet of paper with handwritten signatures for her to see. He pointed to #23, where her name was clearly written— albeit not in her handwriting. But she did recognize it.

"That is not my handwriting."

"Then someone thinks you need a little more exercise, Hale." Coach shrugged, careless. "Sucks, but you're still on the team."

"Can you at least do something about the person who signed me up? Give them a detention, make them run suicide drills all morning?" Rachel suggested, hoping for the latter. Anyone who thought she needed to run more needed to to be made to regret it— especially when they saw firsthand how much exercise she got not only running but fighting for her life.

"I can give them an A in all my classes?"

"Y'know, never mind. I think I'll just— uh, go ask why they did it. Yeah." Rachel nodded, settling on an idea far from talking. Violence sounded so much more appealing. "Also, have you seen Stiles? I- uh, I need to ask why he gave you my number." She fake smiled.

"Stilinski's over there by McCall & Lahey." Coach pointed over to the group of boys. "I'm gonna go over here for a few minutes & pretend I don't know you're going to start a fight. Make it quick. No blood & no knockouts, Hale."

"Will do, Coach." Rachel smiled for real this time, skipping off towards her group of friends.

None seemed to notice her at first— Scott was staring off into the distance, Stiles looked like he was still asleep & Isaac was tying his shoe, but that soon changed as she announced, "you're dead to me."

"What did I do?" Scott questioned before anyone else had the chance, looking genuinely hurt & confused. He instantly started thinking of what he could've done, but drew a blank.

"Not you. For once, you didn't do anything. You're now my favourite." Rachel explained, before turning towards Isaac. "You, however, are not. You live at my house. You see how much I run for my life. So tell me, why the hell do you think I need to run as a sport?

He shrugged.

"Hey— uh, sorry to interrupt, but um, what did I do?" Stiles cut in, now tuned in on the conversation.

"You gave Coach my phone number."

"He said whoever gave him your number would get an A in Economics." The teen tried to reason, not believing it was all that bad. It wasn't like Coach was going to text her daily— even if he did, she could always get a new number. "I was failing."

"I hate you. I hate all of you. Except Scott." She grumbled, looking between the two with death glares. "I hate Stiles slightly less because he had a reason, but—"

The screeching sound of a whistle cut her off.

"Oh, come on! That was only 2 minutes!" Rachel whined, now even more annoyed that she hadn't even gotten to fully tell off either of her friends. She was mostly just mad at Isaac now, because the more she thought about why Stiles had given Coach her number, the more she came to accept that she would have done the same thing if the situation were reversed. A guaranteed A in Economics this semester was totally worth it.

"Sucks to suck, Hale."

"I hate him." She muttered, staying back by Stiles as Isaac & Scott moved up towards the front.

Not more than a minute after Isaac was away from the group, two twins that reeked of werewolf were on either side of him, both looking as though they were going to cause trouble. Rachel hadn't noticed them before, but she definitely did now— she knew without a doubt they were two of the infamous alpha pack members. Most likely the two that Peter said could combine bodies to become one giant alpha. Two new werewolves conveniently showing up at the same time as an alpha pack wasn't even a possibility in her mind. As if today couldn't possibly get any worse, now not only did she have to run for sport, but she was now probably going to have to run to save one of her idiot friends from being killed.

The screech of a whistle once again cut through the serene morning air, and the twins bolted off at an inhuman speed, both still looking as smug as ever. They knew Isaac was going to follow them— which, would also lead to Rachel & Scott following them, because Isaac was an idiot who was going to get himself killed.

Before he could go after them, Scott grabbed his shoulder, giving the beta a questioning look. "Isaac?"

"It's them." Isaac snapped, shrugging Scott's hand off before running after them.

"Wait!" Scott yelled, but it was completely useless. He realized that after about a second of watching the boy run, before quickly taking off after him to ensure he didn't do anything stupid.

Rachel, however, started off with a slow jog. No harm could come from chasing each other— it was when someone was finally caught that the bad would begin to happen, and then she would start running. She could still hear them off in the distance, so she would know when she was actually needed.

"Aren't you going to go after them?" Stiles questioned as he caught up to her, going equally as slow. The two may as well have been walking, they were so slow. Stiles remained at a steady pace to avoid dying, while Rachel did it because she lacked motivation to speed up. She could have easily sprinted the entire track & been done— but she didn't want to.

"I will when I hear bones breaking."

"Seriously?"

"He signed me up for track." She stated as if he didn't already know. "This is my revenge— letting him get his ass kicked. He did it to himself, after all; he's the one who went after them. I can hear them, by the way, so if anything sounds bad I can get there in under thirty seconds to save the day. Plus, Scott's there & nothing bad ever happens when Scott is supervising."

"Friendly reminder: everything bad happens when Scott is supervising." Stiles huffed, now walking as Rachel slowed so she could walk too. Coach could no longer see them, therefore they no longer had to pretend to run. "And maybe he did it because he likes you? Y'know, to spend more time with you."

"Stiles, he lives with me." She reminded him, baffled at how Stiles could forget so easily. She knew Isaac liked her— at least, she hoped he did. If he didn't, he probably wouldn't have kissed her again.

"Oh. I forgot about that." He mumbled, thinking for a moment before realizing he had absolutely no idea. But he did think of something else. "Speaking of that.. Derek just leaves you two alone there & never suspects anything—"

"Don't even go there. He thinks I hate him & he's going to keep thinking that, because the last time I showed even the slightest interest in a boy, I came home to a freaking intervention." Rachel interrupted, cringing at the memories flooding her mind. To distract herself, she focused her hearing on her surroundings rather than Stiles, listening closely for any unordinary sounds. She could manage to make out faint voices, but nothing was too clear to her until she heard the loud crack of bone breaking. "Yikes."

"Yikes?" Stiles asked her, stopping entirely. "What does yikes mean?"

"Someone just broke something." She responded, far from concerned. Rachel couldn't tell exactly who it had been to receive the injury, but she knew it wasn't all that bad. She couldn't feel any pain or anxiety, both of which she'd be overcome by if a member of her pack was dying (she said she wasn't in Derek's pack, but everyone knew damn well she was— just as much as Scott was, for the time being), so she was going on the assumption that no one was dying.

Stiles, however, was extremely concerned. "Aren't you going to go help them?"

Rachel shrugged. "They're not dying." She paused, listening to the sound of growls in the distance. "But they are about to start something they can't finish. Bloody hell."

Just as she was about to run off & jump into the middle of a werewolf fight, Rachel froze at the sound of a feminine scream. Forgetting her friends' idiocy, she bolted off in the direction the scream had originated from. Surely someone screaming bloody murder at 8 in the freaking morning would have been enough to stop a petty fight. Rachel soon came to a clearing, where one lone tree stood. There was a bit of a crowd forming, but she pushed past the people blocking her line of sight with ease & instantly regretted it. Tied to the tree by a rope around his neck was a boy no more than a few years older than her, blood staining his face & clothes.

Rachel now understood why the girl had screamed. She wanted to scream too. In her life, she had seen a lot of horrible things— but never had she ever seen this. Overkill wasn't something she was a stranger to, but to someone human? The only homicides she could even think of comparing to this in brutality were those committed by her uncle, but even Peter wasn't this twisted. Strangled & seemingly beaten, Rachel couldn't even tell which had caused the boy's death, there was so much blood.

"It's him, isn't it?" Stiles' voice sounded from beside her. She hadn't noticed both he & Scott had joined her at the front of the crowd, both looking equally disgusted by the murder. Rachel didn't know who the "him" was that Stiles was referring to, but she had a feeling she was going to find out very soon.

—

Not long had passed before the entire cross country team had crowded around the tree, the reactions varying. Some people couldn't look, others couldn't look away. A few threw up, while others looked on the verge of tears, and some, like Rachel, showed no reaction at all. She had no reason for sadness, she didn't know the deceased, there was no loss for her— but she did feel bad. He was human (not that it mattered, no werewolf except Peter deserved a death this gruesome), he had a life ahead of him. He was a high school student just like her, probably one with a promising future, someone who had barely begun their life. Now none of that mattered because he was dead.

"Hey! Get out of the way. Get back!" Sheriff Stilinski shouted as he approached the scene, accompanied by a few other deputies. "Get this area cordoned off before they trample every piece of evidence."

One of the female deputies then proceeded to yell, "Back up! Everyone back!"

"Get these kids out of here!" The Sheriff instructed his deputies before turning back to the scene.

Stiles completely ignored everything that had just been said, pushing past a few people to get to where his father stood. "Dad, just come here. Look, look. It's the same as the others, you see?"

"Yeah, I see that. Do me a favour, go back to school." His dad asked him, Stiles nodding in response. The Sheriff then turned back to the crowd, searching for Coach Finstock amongst the chaos. "Coach, can you give us a hand here?"

"You heard the man. Nothing to see here! Probably just some homeless kid." Coach yelled, attempting to make people feel better about the situation & unfortunately doing the opposite. Absolutely nothing of what he said had made anyone in the crowd feel anything but horrible.

Scott cringed at the attempt, moving over towards the man. "Coach, he was a senior."

"Oh." He sighed, now finally seeming to show some worry regarding the situation. "He wasn't on the team, was he?"

Before anyone could point how horrible Coach's question had been, yet another scream pierced through the cool morning air. Everyone turned to see a petite blond girl screaming the name Kyle with tears streaming down her face. A deputy held her back from the body, but that didn't stop the girl's screams & sobs. Rachel had to look away after a few seconds, because she couldn't stand to watch the train wreck unfold any longer.

"Go on." Stilinski urged students, glancing towards his son. "Go."

Stiles nodded, leading his friends back towards the path to the school. No one said anything as they walked away from the rest of the students— Rachel didn't even look up from the ground, until Isaac finally said something. "You see the way the twins looked at him?"

"Yeah, you mean like they had no idea what happened?" Stiles deadpanned. Rachel hadn't even seen the twin alphas amongst the crowd.

"No, no, they knew."

Stiles looked at him like he was crazy. "The kid was strangled with a garrote, alright? Am I the only one recognizing the lack of werewolfitude in these murders?"

"I gotta side with Stiles on this." Rachel cut in, feeling bad for her choice. She wanted to agree with Isaac, to be able to blame the alphas for this, but she saw Stiles' side clearer. Nothing about this crime was supernatural. "I've seen a lot of death caused by werewolves— heads ripped off, bodies clawed beyond recognition, but this? Werewolves don't take the time to strangle someone with a garrote, they tear them apart."

Rachel had lived her whole life with werewolves, and as much as it pained her to admit, they were violent creatures. If one were angry enough to commit a murder, they wouldn't go through the trouble of obtaining a garrote & using it to strangle their victim, they'd just tear their throat out. They didn't want a slow death, they wanted a painful, gruesome one. Everyone had seen the body, there were no claw marks on it— there had been blood & a grotesque head wound, but no claw marks. Rachel liked to think she knew enough about supernatural murders to be able to determine that this was not one.

"So you think it's a coincidence they turn up & then people start dying?" Isaac argued, not seeing it from their point of view. His opinion was admittedly slightly biased, seeing as how the alpha twins had been the ones to try & kill him; he wanted an excuse to fight back, and this could easily be it.

"You have a point." Rachel admitted, trying to consider the possibility but failing. "But so do I. An angry werewolf that spontaneously decided to bash someone's head in wouldn't have enough composure to work a garrote."

Isaac rolled his eyes. He stopped listening after "you have a point."

"Scott? How 'bout you?"

"I don't know yet."

"You don't know yet?" Stiles repeated his words as if he was expecting them to be some sort of joke.

"Well, he's got a point." Scott shrugged, trying to reason with the two. "Seriously dude, human sacrifices?"

So that's what Stiles was calling it— that's why Scott was so hesitant to believe him. Rachel had to admit, if Stiles proposed the idea of human sacrifices to her, she would have questioned his sanity; but whereas she came to her conclusion on her own, she wasn't going to be deterred by her friend's odd theories.

Stiles stared at Scott like he'd just confessed to the murders himself. "Scott, your eyes turn into yellow glow sticks, okay? Hair literally grows from your cheeks and then will immediately disappear, and if I were to stab you right now, it would just magically heal. Not to mention the fact that the girl beside you is the human embodiment of a mirror & regularly switches from werewolf to human, but you're telling me that you're having trouble grasping human sacrifices?"

Scott sighed. "That's a good point, too."

"I don't care." Isaac stated, clearly unwilling to even consider other possible options at this point. "They killed that kid, they killed the girl that saved me. I'm gonna kill them too."

"Good luck with that." Rachel muttered, watching as he walked back towards the school.

She was still mad at him for signing her up for track, but after what happened, she wasn't going to let him go off & attempt to murder two alpha werewolves alone, especially not now when she knew he was dead serious. It was a fight he wouldn't win, a fight he would never win, but it was one she couldn't allow him to fight alone. If Scott wasn't going to go after him & ensure he didn't so something stupid, then she was, because even though she was mad, she still cared.

At the end of the day, no matter how mad she was, she would always care.

—

UNEDITED.

aw. sorry to burst your bubbles, but that last bit applies to all her friends— no matter how angry she is, she'll always care about them. so i wrote the twin reunion a few times & i felt like this was the best fit. it was a way to get rachel to school, but also a way to get her to spend time with cora. win/win. also, have i mentioned i'm so excited for motel california? so. many. plans.

as always, comment opinions?