The rest of the night had been eventful, to say the least.

To start the string of extremely unfortunate events; firstly, Stiles had been forced, by Derek, to break his circle of mountain ash, which for some reason, he had begun to speak of as though it was one of his biggest accomplishments. The initial request had been brought up after the alpha had overheard a roar from Scott; who according to Derek, was in dire straights.

Rachel had heard it too, although unlike her brother, she'd assumed the pain was Allison-related. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd heard Scott crying (well, howling) over the huntress breaking his heart, and seeing as how her werewolf-killing parents had made a guest appearance, it also wouldn't have surprised her if Father Crossbow took a shot or two at him. But Derek had insisted otherwise, leading Stiles to break the circle; and inevitably allowing the Kanima & it's master to escape with more blood spilled. The party's promoter, Kara Simmons, had been found dead shortly after the party ended, leaving the group at a loss as Derek returned with a breathless Scott; who'd nearly been killed by a wolfsbane-induced asthma attack.

Rachel had nonchalantly wandered off before Derek got the chance to call the "I told you so!" of all "I told you so's."

After that, the plan had been officially deemed a failure, & everyone had gone their separate ways. Derek had taken his betas, along with Scott back to the warehouse, Allison never returned to discuss the aftermath, Rachel had disappeared entirely & Stiles had gone home. Being the only (normal) human in the group, he was exhausted & ready to pass out as soon as he hit the mattress. In fact, that was all he thought about the entire drive home; sleep.

Upon arriving to the aforementioned building, Stiles was quick to park his jeep in it's usual spot, before hurrying out of the cold & into the warm house. He wished a quick goodnight to his father, explaining that he'd been studying at Scott's house (which Sheriff Stilinski had instantly deemed a lie & assumed they were playing video games for three hours). Nonetheless, he managed avoided the "how was your day, son?" conversation with little collateral damage, and in a matter of minutes, he was hurrying upstairs to his room.

Going along with the usual routine of returning home, he tossed his backpack off to the side, before tugging off his shirt & tossing it onto a pile with various others from the past week, unaware that he wasn't entirely alone in the room. Normally he'd leave his t-shirt on if he knew Scott was coming over, or expected Derek to randomly appear in the room; but seeing as how they'd left the rave together with Erica & Isaac, and it was the night before a full moon; (not to mention, nearly midnight) he assumed neither of them were going to make an appearance.

Walking over to the dresser at the end of his bed, Stiles retrieved a pair of pyjama pants in his signature plaid, changing quickly & tossing his old blue jeans on the pile with his t-shirt. He could still smell the ashes on them from across his room; which had gotten there when he'd accidentally spilled some of the mountain ash on his pant leg. To his surprise, the black ashes both stained, and stunk.

The sound of wind whipping lightly at the curtains caught Stiles' attention as he turned to the window, soon recognizing that it was opened as wide as possible. Hedidn't remember leaving it open that far. Sighing, Stiles brushed it off, assuming it'd been done by his father. Without question, he shut the window entirely, flicking the lock to ensure one of the various supernatural creatures wouldn't sneak in while he was unconscious- it wouldn't be the first time, and sadly, it wouldn't be the last.

⠀⠀⠀⠀However, tonight was the only exception. Everyone was accounted for, the window was locked & his father was downstairs; there was no way in hell someone (even the Kanima) was going to sneak in & kill him. At last, he was alone- completely undisturbed, and able to sleep & dream about Lydia (although he wouldn't admit it- everyone knew) in peace. Flicking the lights off, Stiles exhaled loudly on way back over to his bed. Everything that was going on was truly exhausting; not just physically, but mentally. Scott had nearly died tonight at the hands of his (ex)girlfriend's mom, and that wasn't even the worst part.

They were right back where they started when it came to catching the Kanima master.

Stiles couldn't even begin to think of all the ways their plan had gone wrong, despite the fact that his mind was racing with every last one. It was a jumbled up mess of words, all of which he couldn't piece into sentences at such a late hour. Shaking his head lightly, Stiles reached for the bunched up mess of bedsheets, pulling them back & nearly screeching (quite girlishly) at the sight. Instead of the usual lumpy mattress; there was a person, one of whom he recognized all too well, even in the darkness. The mess of choppy brown hair, thin frame & dark clothes..

Rachel.

"What the hell?" Stiles whisper yelled, reaching for the bedside lamp. The small light soon illuminated the room, confirming his 99.9% theory that it was indeed Rachel Hale buried beneath the mess of bedsheets, static cling & frizzy brown hair.

"Do you really think I was jealous?" She questioned, blowing out a puff of air to get the stray hairs off her face.

"That's why you're here?" He gaped, staring wide-eyed at her. There wasn't much that could surprise him anymore, especially since the words Kanima & werewolf had become a part of his everyday vocabulary; but finding a reflector in his bed at midnight? That was significantly surprising, even to Stiles. "I was practically naked less than three feet away from you!"

"Stiles." Rachel huffed, propping herself up on her elbows. "Answer the question. Do you really think I was jealous?"

How did you even get up here without anyone seeing you?"

"Stiles."

"Alright, alright!" He grumbled, sitting beside her on the bed. "I can't exactly lie to someone who can hear my heartbeat, so uh- yeah. I guess you looked pretty mad, and anger usually implies jealousy- so, um- you seemed kinda jealous."

"So does that mean I like him?" Rachel asked, hearing heart speeding up slightly. A part of her wondered why it was still so slow, especially whereas she felt like she was going to have some sort of nervous breakdown. Never in her life had she ever considered the possibility of having actual feeling for someone that weren't strictly platonic. Sure, she thought Stiles was attractive when she first met him; but she'd quickly decided she preferred him as a friend.

"Who?"

"Isaac! You idiot!"

"Oh." Stiles muttered, pausing for a moment before furrowing his brows in confusion. "How am I supposed to know?"

"I don't know!" She hissed, falling back against the pillow. In hindsight, maybe going to Stiles for advice probably wasn't her best choice; but she couldn't exactly ask Lydia- anything told to the strawberry blonde would later be gossiped to Allison, and judging by what had gone on at the rave, Allison was quickly shifting from a friend to a foe. "You're the one who's had this insane crush on Lydia for nearly ten years- shouldn't that make you an expert on this sort of thing?"

"Absolutely not." He disagreed, unwillingly recalling the countless failed attempts to ask Lydia out- there were too many to count. Stiles still couldn't understand how Rachel expected him of all people to know anything about a topic like this; and in all truth, he was seriously regretting calling her jealous. "Look, isn't there anyone else you can talk to? Literally, anyone?"

"Nope." Rachel answered honestly, a hidden sadness in her tone. She didn't trust Lydia or Allison, (or Scott, because let's face it; he'd accidentally tell Derek) & as for a mother or sister to talk with.. that wasn't an option anymore. As much as she hated to admit it, Stiles was the only person she really trusted enough to be honest with anymore. "Just tell me how you knew you liked her, okay?"

"I- It's almost one in the morning, Rachel. You can't expect me to answer that now." Stiles stared at her in disbelief. He knew her logic was slightly abnormal, (because let's face it, when you grew up with a brother like Derek- nothing was ever normal) and her supernatural abilities likely allowed her to stay awake more than the average person; but he wasn't supernatural. Stiles needed sleep for his brain to function properly, and although turning down the opportunity to vent his love for Lydia to someone who wouldn't tell him to shut up was very tempting, there came a point in time when he just wanted to do absolutely nothing (except sleep- and likely dream of the aforementioned strawberry blonde).

"Fine." Rachel stated, rolling over on her side & pulling the duvet sheets up to her shoulders. She curled up tightly into a ball, as small as she possibly could (the usual routine to avoid the two broken springs in her mattress, while still remaining off the floor) & nuzzled her face into the pillow, exhaling softly as she closed her eyes.

"What are you doing?"

"Sleeping." She mumbled, her words muffled by the soft fabric. If he didn't want to talk tonight; then he didn't have to. She could wait until morning. But one thing she couldn't do, was go back to the warehouse & face both Derek and Isaac, with the possibility of seeing Erica, too. No doubt it'd be a train wreck, (no pun intended) and Rachel wasn't in the mood to be a casualty on the tracks; especially not when the full moon was less than twenty-four hours away, and she was already feeling the sense of rush beginning to set in. "You should try it."

Something told him he wouldn't get to for quite awhile.

⠀⠀⠀⠀↻

And that something was certainly correct.

By the time Stiles had not-so-nicely persuaded her to leave, (with the threat of "get out, or I'm calling Derek" which was countered by "you don't have his number," and then followed by Stiles searching for his phone for five minutes in order to prove he did) it was nearly 4 in the morning, and he was practically unconscious. Rachel, on the other hand, was wide awake. She could never sleep the night before a full moon; especially not when her phone chimed at the ass-crack of dawn with a text from Lydia, reminding her of the birthday bash she was to attend at nightfall (which was ironically the same time she'd pledged to visit the betas & bring Erica a mirror, so she'd be able to see just how pretty she looked under the full moon).

Following that, Rachel's morning had dulled down for awhile. She'd gotten a cup of coffee from a local shop, nearly caused a car pileup when crossing the street & snuck into the warehouse to grab a clean set of clothes; which hopefully, she'd be able to change into at Lydia's house- after all, it was her next stop. The strawberry blonde had insisted Rachel clear her afternoon & evening schedule to shop for dresses, since Allison had supplied the excuse of being grounded (when in reality, she was merely preoccupied by her psychotic, werewolf killing parents).

Of course, Rachel was more than happy to serve as a portable dress-rack for Lydia if it meant no accidental run-ins with her brother. She'd gotten a few strongly-worded texts from him after not returning home, (as well as a few from Scott, and one from Isaac, asking if she was still alive) and although she knew his sour mood was related to the full moon, she couldn't help but want to avoid him as much as possible. Being around a werewolf on, or close to, the full moon, was the equivalent of being around a PMS-ing Regina George; you never knew exactly what they were thinking, or who's murder they were carefully plotting.

It was better to be safe than sorry, and while Rachel knew her brother would never hurt her, he wasn't exactly a role model when it came to self-control, (or anger management, leadership, maturity.. you get the point). And besides, with three bloodthirsty betas to take care of, Rachel was positive he'd be too busy to acknowledge her for more than a second. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if he's even go as far as asking for her help. But knowing Derek, the thought was quickly scrapped. If anything, he'd call Scott & give Rachel the keys to his Camaro, telling her to get the hell out of Beacon Hills if anything went too awry.

"Rachel!" Lydia snapped her fingers at the brunette, bringing her out of her thoughts as they approached the front door of Allison's house. Rachel nearly fell, the Macy's bags hanging from her arms swinging wildly as she steadied herself, looking wide-eyed at the strawberry blonde. For the time being, Rachel was still a werewolf; and although she knew control like she knew Beacon Hills, she couldn't stop her senses from sharpening right before the full moon. It was a pain, but she sure as hell wasn't going to reduce herself to the weak capability of a human, not when werewolves were going to be wild tonight. Especially not when a Kanima was already running wild, with no sign of slowing down on it's streak of murders. "Are you even listening to me?"

"Yeah. I'm listening." Rachel nodded, obviously lying. Lydia's words alone felt like little knives stabbing into hear eardrums; the snapping only intensifying it by thousands. However, she couldn't exactly scream "if you don't stop talking, I'm going to rip out your vocal cords & strangle you with them," so she was left to drown it out by focusing on the growing pain in her arms, due to the weight of the shopping bags. Rachel still had yet to understand why Lydia spent a whopping eight-hundred dollars on party dresses. Of course, she knew the girl was wealthy; but spending that much on a few dresses seemed like such a waste, even to Rachel.

"I'm sure you are." The strawberry blonde remarked, rolling her eyes as she turned back to face the door, just in time to see it opening.

Rachel winced at the loud creak the door emitted, her posture straightening significantly as she took notice of the familiar man standing in it's place. At this point in time, after what'd gone down last night at the warehouse, it wouldn't surprise her if he pulled out a gun & shot her in front of Lydia. The battle lines were drawn as clear as day, and Rachel had walked right over one the second she stepped onto the Argent's property. Gerard made more than sure that everyone knew the code was meaningless now, and the minute the moon went up, the hunt began. Anyone supernatural was dead to them.

"Is Allison home?" Lydia questioned, smiling politely at the man, completely clueless of the dark secrets hidden in the house they were about to enter. Rachel had never exactly been in the Argent household, (and now, there was a small part of her beginning to believe she'd never leave) but assumed it to be as lethal as the people themselves. Whether or not the weapons were visible; she had yet to know, but they were somewhere close, and that was all she needed to know in order to be on high alert.

"Upstairs." He responded, forcing a smile for Lydia's sake as he stepped out of the way to allow them inside. It was evident simply by the strong scent of distress & sadness flooding from within the house that he was aware of what Derek had done, and the consequences that were to follow for both parties. Within the sadness there was strong sense of rage, which Rachel could easily tell was mainly Gerard; but also others. In fact, the only person in the house that wasn't bubbling with rage was Allison; and that was because she likely didn't know.

Rachel kept her gaze locked on the floor as she passed Mr. Argent, following Lydia upstairs hurriedly before he had the chance to rethink his decision & retrieve a weapon. The strawberry blonde led the way with ease, knowing her way around the house from previous visits. Upon reaching Allison's door, she bypassed e option of knocking & pushed through, walking in with a cheerful smile.

"Clear your schedule." Lydia announced, placing the one lone bag she'd decided to carry on the bed. Rachel stumbled in after her, trying to untangle the bags from around her wrists before she lost her balance & tumbled over on top of them. "This could take awhile."

With a groan, the brunette rolled over, pushing herself up on her elbows as she removed the last bag from her wrist. Lydia looked less than impressed, but nonetheless, remained quiet as she dug through the first bag, one that Rachel assumed to hold the dresses she'd purchased for herself. Among the haul, Lydia had also bought dresses for both Allison and Rachel (which had been an experience the reflector really didn't want to relive). She still had yet to explain the full truth to Lydia of why the white dress from the formal had mysteriously gone missing.

"How many outfits do you plan on wearing tonight?" Allison questioned, watching as Lydia laid out a few of her dresses on the bed. In total, Rachel swore there had to be at least ten, judging by the weight. She'd been used as a walking clothes rack throughout their time at the store, even earning a thumbs up from a nerd sales associate who was in the same boat as her.

"It's my birthday." Lydia stated obviously, picking through the pile. Once she found a particular favourite, a beige striped dress, she smiled & held it up against her frame for the two to see. "I'm thinking host dress, evening dress, then.. after-hours casual."

Allison stared back at her, wide-eyed, whilst Rachel maintained her usual expression. She'd already gotten the entire spiel from Lydia at the store, after foolishly questioning why she couldn't just go with one dress for the night. Anyone with a brain knew to never limit Lydia Martin's outfit changes. "I noticed that you didn't send out any invites."

"It's the biggest party of the year, Allison." Lydia responded, her tone sharp, as though she'd expected the brunette to already know. "Everyone knows."

"I was wondering if maybe this year things, you know, might be different." Allison shrugged nonchalantly, attempting to brush off the question without getting a rise out of the strawberry blonde. She could see Rachel in her peripheral vision, making an array of facial expressions that practically screamed "shut up!" The last thing Rachel needed was for Lydia to be more.. Lydia.. than usual. Getting her in a bad mood before her big birthday bash wasn't a good idea.

"What Allison meant to say, is things, and people, have been a bit off lately, y'know, the thing with you & Jackson-"

"What do you care about Jackson?" Lydia interrupted, her eyes narrowing slightly at the reflector.

Rachel internally groaned, feeling a near insatiable desire to punch herself in the face repeatedly for mentioning Jackson in front of Lydia. It was if she'd just learned the english language & knew nothing of how to use it. "I don't. I just, uh- do you know if he's coming tonight?"

"Everyone's coming." Lydia stated firmly, her attention quickly shifting back to the dresses as she picked another from the pile. "This one's American Rag. I love it. For me, not you." She smiled, ignoring Rachel's eye-roll. Lydia picked up another dress. "This one's Material Girl. It's for Allison."

"And this one's for me." Rachel smiled, tugging on the sides of her leather jacket. If it were up to her, that's what she'd be wearing to the party along with a pair of shorts, one of her many t-shirts & a pair of sneakers.

"Very funny." Lydia scoffed, her attention directing to the doorway as a knock sounded. As soon as she saw who it was, her face lit up with a friendly smile as she held up her dress again. "Mrs. Argent, what do you think of this one?"

Rachel froze in place, not daring to look directly at the epitome of Satan in high heels. She couldn't feel a death glare boring into the side of her head, but from what she could pick up out of the corner of her eye; Allison's mom's health looked to be deteriorating quickly. Rachel couldn't lie; she felt no sympathy for the death sentence Mrs. Argent had brought upon herself when she'd attempted to kill a teenager (werewolf or not, his supernatural status didn't matter in the eyes of right & wrong).

"Oh, it's lovely." The woman responded, forcing a small smile at the strawberry blonde. "Allison, uh, can I grab you for a moment to talk? Just the two of us."

"Can we do it later?" Allison asked, obviously uninterested in anything her mother had to say.

"Actually, uh, to be honest, sooner would be- would be better." Mrs. Argent stuttered, a sense of urgency now beginning to show in her tone. Rachel bit her lip, her gaze moving slightly towards her to catch a quick glance of her condition. From what the reflector could tell, the majority of her problems were as self-induced as the bite she received; the weakness & inability to stand stable without support being a side effect of panic & fear.

"Party's at 10." Lydia cut in, still smiling happily as she continued to sort through her dresses.

"Um, will you be around before then?" Allison's mom questioned once more, adamant on speaking with her daughter before nightfall. Rachel knew it was because of the bite, and tonight being the full moon. She was going to die, and she knew it- all she was trying to do was have a final conversation with her daughter, and Allison was oblivious.Rachel wanted to laugh, because in all honesty, Victoria Argent deserved to die after all that she'd done, but a part of her forbade it.

"I think so." Allison shrugged.

"You think so?" Mrs. Argent repeated, hoping for a more definite answer.

"I don't know." The young huntress snapped, growing tired of her mother's pressing. Rachel couldn't help but feel a small pang in her chest, seeing the way Allison spoke to her mother whilst unaware that this may be their final conversation. It wasn't her fault that no one had the heart to tell her the truth, just like it wasn't her fault that her mom was going to die.

Rachel would she give anything to redo the final conversation she had with her mom before leaving that day; and here she was watching Allison make the same mistake that she made nearly 7 years ago. The hands of time were indeed irreversible, but while Rachel couldn't stop a bomb from detonating, she could do as much as possible to reduce the damage it caused. It hurt her heart more than it should've to see Mrs. Argent staring sadly at Allison, whilst the teen went back into her conversation with Lydia. It hurt her heart more than it should've to know that she had the power to alter an ending.

And she didn't do it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀↻

aw. that was kinda sad.

ps. sorry for not updating for two weeks, i was on vacation. i've been working on this all week, and didn't get very far, so i stayed up until 5am finishing it. i'm actually pretty proud of the ending tbh. but yo if you're a little confuse about how rachel was a lil bit different when she was in the room with stiles, it's because she's not good with relationships. sure, she'll look the part- but when it really comes down to it, the thought of being in a relationship &/or having actual feelings for someone scares her.

anyways, as always, comment opinions!