Rachel was so done with high school. If she never returned to that place, it would still be too soon.

Upon exiting the school, she had found that her brother's lifeless corpse was nowhere to be found. Not by the police, not by anyone. Meaning he was alive - or the alpha was collecting his victims as trophies, but Rachel chose to go with option A. Being that he wasn't lurking in the shadows of their house, not even in the cellar, she figured he'd ran off somewhere even she couldn't think of.

The Hale family had their fair share of hiding places, all of which were used on a regular basis. Rachel had decided against trying to call him. She wanted to give him a day or two, the usual time that was expected for him to fully recover. She'd been taught since birth that when one of then was greatly injured, seeking shelter was priority.

An injured werewolf, especially one with as many enemies as Derek, wouldn't last long out in the open if he wasn't able to fight.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't moderately angered that he let her believe he was really dead. But she understood. He needed time to heal. Even if she, Scott & Stiles hadn't handled their situation exactly how he would've, Rachel still felt they did a decent job. Everyone escaped relatively unharmed, with the exception of minor emotional trauma. Jackson, Lydia & Allison may end up suffering from a few nightmares, but other than that, Scott did well.

But like any police officer would be awarded a medal for keeping himself & five friends alive in a situation such as theirs; Scott wasn't praised. In fact, Allison dumped him shortly after they'd safely exited the school.

Stiles had yet again been forced to hold back Rachel once the cops arrived, the teen rambling that if they'd gotten their lazy asses there twenty minutes sooner, she & Scott would've avoided severe pain & mental anguish. In the police department's defence, they weren't entirely aware that two supernatural teenagers had nearly slaughtered their friends while under the influence of a psychotic alpha werewolf.

Still, that didn't suppress Rachel's anger. Nevertheless, Stiles had dragged her away whilst Scott got the dreaded breakup talk from Allison. Despite her bitterly human hearing capabilities, Rachel didn't need any supernatural power to tell that Allison was furious. She'd seen through every one of Scott's lies. He'd only sealed the deal when he chose to lock them in the classroom rather than return they key.

Only Rachel knew the truth. Stiles found out later, but the second that roar sounded through the school - she knew Scott wouldn't be able to fight it. Little did the Argent girl know, her boyfriend (now ex) hadn't locked them in the classroom.

He'd locked himself out.

He was protecting them from himself. It surprised Rachel that he was even able to do that. Nobody can resist an alpha - not even her. The one & only reason that they'd survived the night was Stiles. It wouldn't of been her fault, but Rachel would've killed them in a heartbeat. Her anger over Derek's supposed death, combined with Scott pinning three murders on him - it all played into her losing control.

She felt it the minute she started changing. A part of her didn't want to stop - it wanted to keep shifting until it was an unrecognizable monster that could kill everyone without an ounce of remorse, and that was what scared her the most. Derek was the one who always ensured Rachel reflected a human before the full moon had risen. Now she knew why.

Being forced to change was the complete opposite of willing yourself to do it. Even if there was always the curiosity of wanting to push yourself further, you never did it because the risk of losing control was far greater than the reward. Even if Derek couldn't turn himself into an actual wolf like Laura & their mother could, Rachel was fairly certain his abilities were still dangerous beyond restraint. She wasn't going to test them, nor was she going to try Scott's. Rachel was staying away from werewolves on the full moon. She had a feeling that the faint desire to brutally slaughter her friends was only a small taste of the actual urges a werewolf felt under the full moon - and she didn't want to find out.

They say there's a first time for everything. Rachel sincerely hoped there wouldn't be a second.

Still, despite very clearly informing Stiles of her desire to kill him - he'd dragged both her and Scott out to the preserve for the centuries long tradition of drinking. Apparently after a guy goes through a tough break up, it's his best friend's duty to take him out & get him completely smashed - at least, according to Stiles.

"Where are we going?" Scott questioned as Stiles & Rachel led him through the woods.

Shortly after being freed from the high school, Stiles had offered to drive Rachel home. Being Stiles Stilinski, he'd done the exact opposite. He drove her to his house; where they picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels & proceeded to go & get the lost puppy known as Scott McCall.

"You'll see."

"We really shouldn't be out here." Scott sighed, still following closely along with the two despite his reluctance. "My mom is in a constant state of freak out from what happened at the school."

"Well, your mom isn't the sheriff, okay?" Stiles huffed, turning back to face Scott with annoyance. "There's no comparison, trust me."

"Well, my parents are dead & my brother's a fugitive." Rachel deadpanned, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "I could join the Yakuza for all Derek cares. He's got his own problems to deal with right now."

Scott & Stiles both gave each other odd looks before brushing it off. Rachel was still upset, anyone would be. She thought she'd lost her last remaining family member. Scott fake coughed, trying to seem less ignorant as he returned to the topic of interest. "Can you at least just tell me what we're doing out here?"

"Yes. When your best friend gets dumped-"

"I didn't get dumped." Scott interrupted, quickly correcting, "We're taking a break."

"Alright, well, when your best friend gets told by his girlfriend that they're taking a break.." Stiles paused, holding up the bottle of Jack Daniels. "You get your best friend drunk."

A half an hour later..

Stiles & Rachel were drunk. Very drunk. The two lay side by side on the ground, staring blankly up at the sky while Scott sat on a rock a few feet away. Unlike Rachel, Stiles was a rather odd drunk. Between the occasional laughs or strange facial expressions, any person in a good state of mind would've found him funny.

But Scott & Rachel weren't what you'd call mentally stable. The full moon was only twenty four hours away, which combined with his Allison issue was putting Scott on edge. Rachel, however, had discovered the secret as of why Derek never bought alcohol. There was also the fact that werewolves couldn't actually be intoxicated, but Rachel chose to believe he had more reason than just that.

Drunk didn't feel good.

At least, not to her. The woozy state of mind brought back memories she didn't realize she fought so hard to bury each day. Most people with a past like hers would drink until they forgot it all, but unluckily, Rachel had happened to drink just enough that she couldn't forget.

A 10 year old Rachel Hale skipped through the kitchen of her house, a wide smile spread across her face as she stuffed it with a freshly baled chocolate chip cookie. Crumbs littered the counter, whilst dots of chocolate stained her purple shirt but she didn't care. Rachel loved chocolate.

"Cora!" She shrieked, her words slightly slurred. "Mom made cookies!"

Her twin sister soon rushed into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of cookies before Rachel could eat them all. The reflector narrowed her eyes, taking the plate along with the remaining cookies. A satisfactory smirk formed on her chocolate covered lips as Cora growled quietly. "No fair!"

"I saw them first!" Rachel argued, standing on her tiptoes to hold the plate above her sister's head. She was a mere inch taller, but that was all she needed to be able to stash things out of Cora's reach.

"Mom!" Cora shrieked, crossing her arms. If Rachel was going to play unfair, then so was she.

Their mother soon entered the kitchen, laughing softly at the sight of the twins. Both had evidently been scarfing down cookies. The now half-empty plate was sitting back in it's place on the counter. Rachel smiled widely, despite one of her front teeth missing it only added to the cutesy innocent act she'd chosen to play. Cora, however, stood glaring at her sister.

"I see you two have been in to the cookies." Talia stated, moving the plate up to a higher shelf that neither girl could reach. "If you eat anymore, you'll never eat your dinner. Go play outside."

Rachel turned to Cora, flipping her hair before she skipped into the living room. She wiped her hands on her pants, searching around for the television remote. It was two-thirty. Cora had just gotten home from school, which meant their favourite cartoon would be on soon. The Bugs Bunny & Tweety Show.

Derek hated television, but Cora & Rachel couldn't get enough of it. Ever since their Uncle Peter had introduced them to the show, they couldn't get enough of it. It'd been his favourite show growing up too. Even if it's final episode had aired over five years ago, the twins had no problems watching reruns. They'd watch the same episode three times in a week - they loved it.

Cora ran in the room, jumping on the couch with the remote in hand. Rachel sat beside her as the girl clicked on the television, watching intently at the screen. Rachel, however, was distracted by the math textbook laying on the coffee table. Derek's book? He must've forgotten it.

"I'll be back in a minute, tell me what happens." Rachel mumbled to Cora, taking the book off the table & running back out to the kitchen. "Mom! Derek forgot his book, can I take it to him? Pretty please!"

Rachel held up the textbook, grinning widely. She'd never been to Derek's school, but she always wanted to go. Now was her chance, if only her mother would allow it. She was ten years old, not a baby. Surely she'd be allowed to bike the few blocks from her home to the high school, right?

Talia pursed her lips, staring sympathetically at her daughter. "Rachel."

The 10 year old knew that tone all too well. It was the one she'd hear every time it was "too dangerous" for her to go somewhere. The risk of accidentally exposing her uncontrollable abilities always outweighed the reward. But this time, Rachel wasn't having it. "Pretty please! I promise I'll come right back!"

Her mother thought for a moment. It was only a few short blocks to the high school, and she would be with Derek. Peter would likely be there too. Rachel wouldn't be alone for more than a few minutes, and she knew what to do if she encountered anyone. Be polite & don't make eye contact. Talia exhaled, eventually letting a smile spread on her face. "As long as you promise to come right back."

Rachel jumped up in happiness, running around the counter & hugging her mom. "Thank you! Thank you! I promise!"

The brunette ran back into the living room, digging through a few baskets until she found her bike helmet. Cora paid no attention, instead focusing on the cartoons in front of her. The young werewolf occasionally giggled quietly, finally turning to see what Rachel was doing as the reflector let out a shriek.

Cora raised a brow, confusion setting in as she noticed Rachel snapping the clasp on her bike helmet. "Where are you going?"

"I'm taking this to Derek. Mom said I could." Rachel informed. She held up the math textbook, unable to stop smiling. She was finally going to see her brother's high school, the school she would hopefully one day attend with Cora. That was the one thing she always wanted; to graduate high school with her twin sister.

"I'll come with you."

"No!" Rachel quickly objected, pointing to the television & stating confidently, "You stay & tell me what happens. I'll be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"Ugh! Fine." Cora huffed, leaning back on the couch as she turned up the volume a few ticks. "Be careful!"

"Whatever!"

That was the last word Rachel ever said to her sister. Whatever.

It was a dagger through her heart every time she recalled the day, but still, it was her own form of torture. She never hugged her sister goodbye. She never told any of them she loved them before she left. It was a given fact, but she wished more than anything that she could go back to that day & say the three words. Maybe then she wouldn't feel so guilty.

Rachel didn't have anything to do with the fire, inadvertently or not. She couldn't have stopped it, nor could she have predicted such a crime. That didn't stop her from believing she could've, though. Despite the facts stacked in front of her, Rachel would always believe that maybe, just maybe, if she had've come home - things would've been different.

Whether the difference be her fiery death, or the extra help needed to save just one more life from meeting a painful end. Rachel would've died in that fire if it meant her sister lived. She & Cora did everything together - they were best friends & most importantly, sisters. Losing Cora proved to be almost as if a part of Rachel had perished within the flames, though she hadn't been close enough to even feel the heat.

Derek & Laura both saw it for years after. Rachel never smiled, nor did she laugh without a demented reason. She was nothing but a little girl who'd been corrupted by the darkness she'd dealt with far too early on in her life. The first three years post-fire were spent the same way.

Travelling the world, always having to move to a new place anytime someone grew suspicious of them. It was often Rachel that would tip off the neighbours, particularly when Derek or Laura would have to wake the screaming girl from a nightmare. She couldn't help it. The fire did more than just traumatize her, it scarred her. Scars don't heal. They might fade over time, but the memory will always be there.

Six years later in the present day, that's what remained. A faded scar, still prominent enough to be identified as true heartbreak. The absolutely crushing fact of knowing that Cora, along with her mother & nearly all of her family was dead. It killed Rachel, to know that her sister would never grow up, never go to prom - and she'd never get to graduate high school with her like she'd always wanted.

Because she was murdered.

Rachel's dreams were damned from the start, forever condemned to remain within the confines of her tortured mind. From the moment she was born into a world that housed disgusting creatures (that had the nerve to call themselves human), she never stood a chance.

Because in the end, hunters weren't human. No one truly human could perform such a monstrous act. Even if she sought light in the darkest hour, Rachel Hale could find no light in the demented savage. The arsonist was a soulless monster, and though it may be a heart-wrenching revelation for some, Rachel knew it in her crumbling heart of ash that there was no salvation for the soulless.

With watery eyes, Rachel let out a shaky breath as she took notice of her surroundings once more. She was still laying still beside a very drunk Stiles, which let her to believe her nightmare, (masquerading as a drunken daydream) hadn't lasted as long as she thought. She'd nearly forgotten that he was there, up until he'd shifted around a bit, likely due to the uncomfortably rocky ground. Scott, however, hadn't moved at all. He was still sitting on a boulder, in the same position he'd been in ten minutes ago - with the same lost puppy expression remaining on his face.

"Dude, you know, she's just one- one girl." Stiles slurred, unknowingly giving Rachel a distraction from her suffocating thoughts - which the girl was grateful for. "You know, there are so many- there are so many other girls in the sea."

"Fish in the sea." Scott corrected.

"Fish? Why are you talking about fish?" The drunk boy questioned, laughing quietly. "I'm talking about girls. I love girls. I love 'em. Especially ones with strawberry blonde hair, green eyes, 5'3.."

"Like Lydia?"

"Yeah, exactly." Stiles nodded. "Hey, how did you know I was talking about - about.. What was I talking about?"

"You look sad." Rachel mumbled, reaching for the bottle of Jack laying between her & Stiles. "Take a drink."

"I don't want anymore." Scott declined.

Stiles furrowed his brows in confusion, looking over at his depressed friend. "You're not drunk?"

"I'm not anything."

"Hey, maybe it's like- maybe it's like not needing your inhaler anymore, y'know? Maybe you can't get drunk as a wolf." Stiles suggested. Rachel nodded, giving a thumbs up. The brunette was too lazy to speak, knowing her words would most likely end up too distorted to understand. Stiles, however, continued to talk. "Am I drunk?"

"You're wasted." Scott deadpanned.

"Yeah!" Stiles cheered, punching a fist in the air. Soon after, he seemed to finally take notice of how upset his friend really was. Even in his drunk state, Stiles still tried his best to console him. "Come on, dude, I know it feels bad. I know it hurts. I know. Well, I don't know. But I know this. I know that as much as being broken up hurts, being alone is way worse."

"Being alone is way worse." Rachel repeated, slurring her words slightly. The brunette gazed up at the stars, pondering over Stiles' words. He was right. Being alone was the worst. Maybe that's why they lock up criminals in jail cells all alone. Because complete isolation allows you to overthink things, and play out each scenario in your mind on an endless repeat. Maybe the reason that Rachel chose to push people away, was because she believed she deserved it? The pain of knowing that she was completely & utterly alone was simply her own form of torture, karma for not returning back to her home when she'd promised her mother.

Or maybe Rachel was just drunk.

"That didn't make any sense." Stiles chuckled, Rachel soon joining in. She was too weak minded right now to take any of her thoughts to heart. "I need a drink."

But before Stiles could reach for the bottle, someone else had already snatched it. Two men, well - street thugs, in Rachel's opinion, due to the hipster hat & atrocious pants sagging. The taller one who'd taken the bottle from Stiles laughed drly, staring down at them as if they were 7. "Well, well, look at the three lil' bitches gettin' their drink on."

Rachel cringed at his voice, fighting back the urge to scream at him. Who talks like that? She wasn't a complete stick in the mud, but she preferred people to use proper english - and wear a belt. Unlike her, Scott didn't keep quiet. The teen wolf glared at the two, stating firmly, "Give it back."

"What's that, little man?" The taller one teased.

"I think he wants a drink." The short one mused, glancing towards his friend.

"I want the bottle."

"Scott, maybe we should just go." Stiles interrupted, leaning up on his elbows. Rachel nodded, sitting up completely & sliding backwards closer to Scott. She didn't want to seem like a fearful little girl, but she was pathetically human, thanks to Stiles. She was a terrible fighter without her brother's or Scott's werewolf abilities.

"You brought me here to get me drunk, Stiles." Scott snapped, turning back to face the two men. "I'm not drunk yet."

Scott climbed off the rock he'd previously been sitting on, stalking over to the two. The taller one simply laughed it off, taking a drink of liquor. They had no clue what they were up against, but Rachel & Stiles were fairly sure that if they didn't give Scott the alcohol, they were going to find out.

"Give me the bottle." Scott stated. The man simply looked down at him, an amused expression on his face. He had to have been at least half a foot taller than Scott, but that didn't phase him. The teen wolf narrowed his eyes, a yellow tint soon appearing within them. Stiles' eyes widened as he took notice of claws growing from his best friend's fingertips. Rachel jumped up, ready to rush over & stop a fight until Scott spoke again in a deeper than normal voice. "Give me the bottle of Jack."

The man fearfully held it out, Scott grabbing the bottle roughly. The yellow faded from his eyes as he threw it against a tree, careless of it's remaining contents. The two men ran off, not daring to look back as Scott walked back towards Stiles' jeep. Rachel didn't bother catching up as Stiles hurriedly ran after Scott. Even if the almost-fight had sobered her up pretty quickly, there was one thing she couldn't help but worry about. The full moon would be at it's peak in just twenty four hours. If Scott's behaviour now was any indication of the very near future..

Rachel & Stiles were fucked.

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3:40 into the episode, 3.6k words lmao.

Sorry the end is shitty, I had to force myself to finish this early. This chapter made me sad to write tbh. I can't wait for season 3 ;););););) But this is probably the only flashback youre gonna see that has to do with the Hale fire, until season 3A

Is it bad that I already have the Motel Cali episode entirely planned out? Whoops. I actually have the majority of season 2 & 3A planned.

Anyways, I was wondering if I should make a "plot lines" book? I have too many ideas & not enough time to write them.

Comment opinions?