𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒐 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

"MCCALL! SCOTT MCCALL, I'M TALKING to you!" The boy in mention stops walking and winces at her loud, sharp tone of voice. He sighs through his nose. The last name is never good, especially with Charlotte. "Care to explain to me why I just got a text from Allison saying you left her alone, on a date might I add, at a party that was secretly held at my house three days ago?"

Scott finally spins around in the middle of the driveway, internally hoping his best friend hasn't already gone full 'Charlotte mode' yet. But the second he catches sight of the phone in her hands, his worry dissipates and a smile quickly adorns his face. "She called it a date?" he questions excitedly.

"Scott!"

He swallows. "Okay, so it's a long story."

She raises her eyebrows at him inquisitively. "Well, make it considerably shorter for me," she retorts bluntly. She points to her phone. "Because I have a new best friend currently in tears over my other dick of a best friend." He looks back at her in confusion. "You're the dick of a best friend right now, Scott."

"Oh..." He opens his mouth to continue talking, but he closes it and lets out a sigh of relief once spotting Stiles' Jeep pulling up beside them. The car door opens and slams closed.

"Hey, my two besties! What's going on- uh oh. This looks serious," Stiles concludes, his eyes flicking between a moody Charlotte and an anxious Scott. He winces. "Aw, buddy, what did you do this time?"

"Stiles! Shut up," Charlotte snaps impatiently. His eyes widen. Maybe she just hasn't her morning coffee yet. "McCall, you better answer me in the next minute before I walk away and break rule number three."

Gasping dramatically, Stiles leans over to the boy as he whispers, "Dude... Last name and threatening the code in one sentence?" Scott slowly turns his head to look at him, revealing his scowl born out of agitation.

"Stilinski!"

The scowl morphs into a grin. "Now look who's in trouble," he sneers smugly.

"Someone tell me what the fuck is going on!"

The two boys look to one another. Scott clears his throat and gestures to his house behind them. "You better come in, it's a long story."

»»———-　　———-««

Charlotte blinks rapidly as her brain tries to process the words she had just been bombarded with in the span of a minute. "Slow down," she speaks. Her head tilts to the side as she looks at Scott. "So, you're a dog? Like, bark, bark, howl at the moon?" Her eyebrows raise at him when he refuses to answer, then she turns to the other boy. "We're actually taking this shit seriously?"

Stiles nods. "Sure are." He waves a hand encouragingly at Scott. "Dude, show her."

Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Scott nods. Charlotte Martin's jaw drops in disbelief as soon as she sees the eyes of her best friend vibrantly glow. It's like she's staring into pools of gold. "Holy motherfucking shit balls," she mutters in awe. "Stilinski, this might be the best proof you've ever given me in your damn whole life." The boy's lips lift into a wide smile. He almost pats himself on the back. "What the hell went down at this party?"

"Oh, yeah, why weren't you at the party?"

She shrugs. "Mom dragged me to the lake house for the weekend. Something about mother-daughter bonding time..." They raise their eyebrows at her. "But it was definitely more because she wanted to keep an eye on me, you know after the whole midnight-missing-half-dead-body scandal?"

"But the party was at your house..." Stiles points out slowly in confusion.

"I'm not the only one who lives in that house," she reminds him. His purses his lips and nods in agreement as he remembers the other Martin sister. It takes a few minutes to debrief Charlotte on how Scott ended up leaving Allison stranded on Friday night because of how badly his first full moon was affecting him. But when they move on to how he had jumped out his bedroom window to go find Derek Hale, she finds the need to interrupt. "Wait, hold on." The boys freeze. "Why Derek?"

"'Cause he picked Allison up from the party." She furrows her brows, and Stiles continues, "She was left alone because Scott was her ride home."

"And Allison would willingly go with a stranger why?"

Stiles shrugs. "Apparently Derek's got some charm."

Charlotte nods. "Fair, he seems like that kinda guy, you know, when he's not all creepy and brooding..."

"He told Allison I was a friend," Scott explains with a roll of his eyes.

She hums. "Sure, whatever, but why Derek?"

Stiles and Scott share a look and both of their mouths form O shapes in understanding. "Ah, right..." The former clears his throat. "Derek's a werewolf," Stiles states as casually as if he was reminding her that he still has a crush on her sister.

Charlotte clicks her tongue. "Knew it," she murmurs. They continue on with Scott finally discovering the older werwolf in the preserve by discovering Allison's jacket. She frowns. There are so many holes in this story. "What did her jacket have to do with you finding Derek?"

Stiles scrunches up his nose. "Keep up," he says impatiently. "Derek drops her home. Jacket left in car. Scent on jacket. Derek takes jacket. Scott finds out Derek with Allison. Very angry Scott follows scent."

"Right, of course..."

The entire time that Scott tells his story of how he and Derek got attacked by a group of men with weapons, 'werewolf hunters' as Derek calls them, Charlotte's mouth is gaping wide open. She doesn't remember the last time she was so shocked. However, then he gets to the point where he was shot with an arrow. "Dude, I really need to see this healing shit in action," she tells Scott incredulously.

The boys glance at each other one again, then hesitantly turn back to their best friend who is sitting crossed legged on the navy-blue duvet. "So... You're really okay with-" Scott flashes his yellow eyes again. "...This?"

After staying silent for an agonising minute, she breaks into a grin. Scott's shoulders sag in relief. "My best friend's a fucking werewolf, I'm just glad I can finally say 'cool dog' or 'go fetch.'"

His small smile drops off his face. "Seriously?" he deadpans, very unamused compared to Stiles.

"Oh, I'm dead serious. I have so many dog puns. As long as you're this thing... they aren't stopping any time soon."

»»———-　　———-««

It's three days later on in the week that the topic of Allison is touched on again. Scott and Stiles are getting ready for lacrosse practise in the boy's locker room, and it's harmless conversation that the latter starts up, not thinking that it would be too impactful on his best friend's mindset. "So, did you apologise to Allison?"

Still in shock from an earlier discovery that he has yet to mention to either of his friends, Scott weakly nods his head. "Yeah," he replies quietly, dazed as he leans against his locker.

Stiles isn't satisfied with the one word answer and impatiently gestures his hands. "So... Is she giving you a second chance, or...?"

"Oh, she is," a voice pipes up. "She's giving him a second chance all right."

Scott nods again. "Yeah."

"Yeah? All right!" Stiles exclaims, fully in the mood to hype his friend up about his crush. "So everything's all good?"

Charlotte stands up from her place on the wooden bench and stands beside Stiles. Her eyes immediately roll as whistles spread across the locker room, multiple boys taking note of her more visible presence. She pays them zero attention.

Scott blankly stares into the space before him. "No," he says.

His friends glance at each other, their frowns mirroring the other's. "No...?"

"Remember, the hunters? Her dad..." Quickly beginning to lose patience, Charlotte hurriedly gestures for him to continue. Scott dryly swallows as he builds up the courage to say it out loud. "Her dad... is one of them."

Stiles' jaw fully drops. "Her dad-?"

"Shot me-"

"Allison's father...?" she speaks slowly. It's strange. A week ago, she was worried about when her sister was going to force her into another pamper session. Now, she's worried about her best friend, who happens to be a werewolf, getting shot by an arrow by her new best friend's father... It's a lot to take in.

"-with a crossbow."

"Allison's father?"

"Yes! Her father!" Scott's body weight fully leans onto the locker. His breathing begins to become shallower. He's properly panicking now. "Oh, my God," he mumbles in worry.

"No, Scott," Stiles calls out, trying his best to try and comfort the boy before it can develop into an anxiety attack. "Snap back!" Scott rapidly blinks and he shakes his head a few times to come out of his dazed-like state of mind. "You okay?" After receiving a hesitant nod, Stiles sighs in relief. "Hey, all right? He didn't recognise you, right?"

"No... N-no, I don't think so," Scott answers. He still sounds unsure. It seems like he's trying to convince himself just as much as he is with Stiles.

"Okay... Okay! That's good. Does she know about him?"

Scott's eyes widen as he remembers Allison. "Oh, my God. Oh, yeah, I-I don't know! What if she does?" His heart thuds against his ribcage like an anvil, his eyes flicking between the two humans. "This is gonna kill me, guys-"

Stiles interrupts and speaks calmly to the frantic teenage boy. "Just focus on lacrosse. Okay?" He picks up the rest of his gear and throws it into the boy's empty hands. "Take this," he instructs. "Take this, and focus on lacrosse for now. That's all you gotta do, yeah?"

"Lacrosse." Scott takes a deep breath and he nods at his friend who pats him encouragingly on his arms.

"Here. We. Go!" The pair turn to leave the locker room, but it doesn't take long before Stiles abruptly stops and backtracks into the locker room. Both boys turn around to see Charlotte still sitting down on the bench, her lips slightly parted and eyes wide. Cautiously walking closer, Stiles squats down in front of her so he's in her line of sight. "Charlie?" When she doesn't respond, he waves his arms in front of her face. No luck.

Scott kneels down before her. "Lottie?" he calls out hesitantly.

Still staring into empty space, she whispers one word that her friends have to lean closer in order to hear clearly. "Intense."

»»———-　　———-««

All three teenagers reach their destination at the lacrosse field just as Bobby Finstock has begun announcing the team's first task. Charlotte waves to her friends, bidding them good luck, and makes her way over to the team bench. Sitting down and unzipping her backpack, she takes out her phone and turns it on, seeing a bunch of messages from her mother, Lydia, and Allison. She looks back up to the field and vaguely hears Coach yelling. It's either one of three things: heavily praising Jackson, negatively critiquing Greenberg, or screaming at Scott. Each one of those options share the exact same chance as the other.

Back on her phone, she responds to her mother's questions asking where she is (the regular excuse is studying in the library at school), and tells Lydia that she's with Scott and Stiles. Charlotte pauses before opening Allison's conversation. Quietly chuckling when she realises that ninety percent of the texts are about how happy she is to make up with Scott, she messages back.

Allison

That's great Alli! So glad to hear.
Talk to you later (at lacrosse practise) :)

She closes the phone and turns her attention back to the field just in time to, once again, hear Coach yelling. This time, she's one-hundred percent sure it's the third option. "Hey, McCall! My-my grandmother can move faster than that, and she's dead! You think you can move faster than the lifeless corpse of my dead grandmother?"

Charlotte giggles, although it quickly dies off once she sees the faint glimmer of gold reflecting in the sun's harsh rays. She leans forward in her seat in the bleachers in anticipation. "Shit," she whispers in alarm.

Scott says something back that she can't understand, and apparently Coach doesn't either. "I can't hear you!"

"Yes, Coach."

"McCall's gonna do it again! McCall's gonna do it again!"

As Scott runs back into position, Charlotte locks eyes with Stiles on the field and they both share the same concerned expression. If his eyes are glowing, what's the next step in this werewolf thing? Canines? Claws? Coach blows his whistle and Scott immediately takes off toward Jackson, colliding into him at full speed. As the boy falls backwards, she grins, but just like her laughter from a minute ago the smile quickly disappears when she sees Scott also on the ground and clutching his right shoulder in pain.

It doesn't take her long to rush down the steps of the bleachers and sprint across the field, reaching her best friend at the same time as Stiles does. They look at one another, panicking as they can see the state Scott is in. If this isn't what a werewolf looks like... Charlotte's not sure what is. She was basically right. Not only are his eyes shining brightly, but his razor sharp teeth are exposed from his mouth open as breathes heavily. She nods to Stiles when she sees the rest of the team is focused on helping Jackson. "Scott, what can we do to help?" she asks gently.

With his face scrunched up, Scott groans out, "I can't control it! It's happening!"

His friends' eyes widen further as they realise he is in the middle of a proper transformation into his supernatural side. "Okay, Scott, we gotta get out of here, okay? Let's go somewhere to calm down," she tells him firmly.

Receiving only heavy breathing as an answer, Stiles adds, "Scott, we have to go now." The boy nods and grabs onto Charlotte's outstretched hand. Both teenagers pull him along, leading him past the bleachers and towards the empty locker room.

Feeling a strange sensation run through her, like the nagging feeling you get when someone is watching you from afar, Charlotte takes a second to search the grounds until she finds Derek Hale standing behind the bleachers, watching the trio with a blank expression. She frowns at him, but it isn't long before her attention is quickly pulled back to Scott. Glancing behind her, her frown deepens when she realises that he is no longer there.

What the hell is Derek Hale doing watching a high school lacrosse game?

Finally making it back into the locker room, Stiles and Charlotte push the boy through the door. "There we go, come on, Scott. In we go," Stiles says as he falls to his knees.

She crouches down to look at him in the eyes. "Scott, just sit down. Try to breathe. Think of sunshine and rainb-"

"Get away from me!" The force of Scott's voice causes her to stumble back into the boy behind her. Catching her, Stiles spins them around and rushes behind a row of lockers, just as Scott starts to stalk towards them.

Charlotte's never known what it feels like to be a mouse before. Their situation right now is just a much more violent and deadly take of Tom and Jerry. And she doesn't like it one bit. With her anxiety skyrocketing through the roof, she tries to breathe steadily, clutching tightly onto Stiles' hand as if it's her lifeline. A crash reverberates off the walls of the locker room, and the pair hesitantly lift their heads up to watch Scott leaping on top of the lockers like a frog. If her life wasn't on the line, she probably would've giggled. "He's definitely taking gymnastic classes," she mutters.

Pulling himself onto the vents on the top of the ceiling, Scott follows the humans on the ground who have managed to make their way to the entrance of the locker room. This is when Charlotte Martin has an epiphany. And damn would she say it's one of the best ones she's ever had in her life. Breaking away from Stiles, she grabs onto the nearby fire extinguisher and clutches onto it for dear life. Waiting for the right moment, she aims it at Scott just as he jumps back down in front of them. The werewolf immediately covers his face with his hands to avoid the spray. Once Charlotte stops her actions, she pulls Stiles with her to take cover outside of the entrance door. He grabs the extinguisher from her and holds onto it tightly, entirely prepared to defend them both if necessary.

They finally hear a faint voice come from inside the locker room. "Charlie...? Stiles?" Charlotte pokes her head inside the door frame and squints her eyes, spotting Scott on the bench. She nudges Stiles and nods. "What happened?" Stiles sighs in exhaustion and he drops their weapon on the ground. It clatters loudly, making everyone flinch. He takes off his gloves and forcefully throws them onto the floor.

Charlotte on the other hand, slowly walks towards the boy and takes a seat beside him. She takes a hold of Scott's hand and they sit in silence until Stiles speaks up, bluntly stating, "You tried to kill us." Scott guiltily looks up as the boy with the buzzcut comes over to stand in front of them. His facial expression remains serious as he tells Scott something that Charlotte had remembered reading about in one of the many pages of research on werewolves he had given her. "It's like I told you before: Scott, it's the anger. It's your pulse rising. That's the trigger."

"But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game if you hadn't noticed..."

Gently smiling at him, Charlotte adds, "Oh, we know."

"Well, it's going to be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field," Stiles firmly says. He sighs heavily. "You can't play Saturday," he concludes grimly. "You're gonna have to get out of the game."

Scott's shoulders sink in disappointment. "But I'm first line-"

"Not anymore." Stiles looks to Charlotte for backup and she nods, agreeing with him.

"Scott, you should've seen yourself. Imagine the stress you just felt, but multiply it with crowds of people watching you, the added pressure, Coach screaming again..." Upon seeing the distraught painted on his face, she quickly adds, "But it won't be like this forever. We'll figure this whole thing out. Promise."

"Promise?"

She smiles. "Promise."

»»———-　　———-««

As soon as Charlotte gets home, she runs up the stairs after yelling a hello to her mother and goes straight to her room. Setting her backpack at her desk, she takes her converse off and jumps onto her bed, lying face down. Then she screams. But thankfully for the rest of her family, it's muffled by her pillow.

"What's got you in a such a mood?"

"Go away, Lydia," she grumbles out. However, as she feels the bed dip beside her, she sighs and flips to lie on her back.

Her sister raises her eyebrows and motions for her to sit up and turn around. "Wanna talk about it?" Lydia asks as she sections Charlotte's blonde hair preparing to braid them.

"It's... It's complicated."

"Isn't everything though?" Charlotte slightly smiles. "Well, if we aren't going to talk about you, let's talk about the latest piece of gossip." Lydia gently smacks her shoulder when she tries to turn. "Don't move."

"I'm listening..." She purses her lips together as she feels locks of hair being pulled and twisted. She's always loved her hair being played with. It's soothing.

"So, Allison. Her and Scott?" Lydia queries as she focuses on the braid.

Charlotte grimaces. "So I hear. Apparently love at first sight is real. What, they've known each other for a week? It's becoming sickening."

Lydia chuckles. "Apparently so."

"Lyds?" Her sister hums. "I just have to ask, the other day at lacrosse... I know you were with Allison and all and probably supporting her with Scott and everything... But I thought we were all hashtag 'Go, Jackson!' this, 'What a goal, Jackson!' that?" Before Charlotte can say anything further, she hears quiet sobs. She reaches behind her to pull Lydia's hands away from her hair and turns around. Without saying anything, she pulls her sister into a hug. Just like they were little, Charlotte strokes her sister's head and rocks her back and forth. "Wanna talk about it?" she asks softly, but all she gets in response is sniffles and arms being wrapped around her tighter. "Yeah, I told you he was a dick."

Lydia hiccups but she still manages to giggle. After a few silent minutes, she pulls away and looks her twin in the eye, wiping away her her tears that have been stained an inky colour from her mascara. "No, it's okay. I love him, I do."

Charlotte nods and patiently waits for her to continue. When she is met with silence and Lydia playing with a loose strand of hair, she grips onto her sister's hands once more. "Lydia, you deserve better," she says seriously. "So, so much better."

The strawberry blonde smiles in reassurance. "Charlie, I'm okay. Really."

Charlotte's expression stays serious, but inside her heart slowly starts to break. "I'm here to talk if you need, you know that, right?" Her sister nods, and so the blonde turns around again for the braiding to continue in silence.

»»———-　　———-««

It's eight-thirty at night when Charlotte's head flicks up at the ringing coming from the laptop on her desk. Jumping up from her bed, she quickly runs over to accept the call. Scott's face fills up the screen and she brightly grins at him. He goes to say something but she places a finger to her lips and mouths, Wait. The other half of the screen is of the back of a chair. She counts down with her fingers, and on one Stiles spins around and starts shooting at the monitor with a toy plastic gun, the red light imitating a bullet. "Hiya, dude, watcha got there?" she asks, a smile plastered on her face.

"Charlie, you're gonna love this, I got it fro-"

But he is cut off by Scott, who by the looks of it is way too exhausted to play games. "So what did you find out?"

"Find out what?" Charlotte questions.

"It's about Jackson," Stiles starts and looks at Scott. "He's got a separated shoulder."

"Because of me?"

Stiles loudly scoffs and quickly dismisses the assumption. "No, because he's a tool."

She narrows her eyes. "No, no. Tools can be useful. He's just a dick."

Scott chuckles. "Is he going to play though?"

Stiles sighs. "Well they don't know for sure yet," he says. He hesitates. "Now, they're just counting on you for Saturday."

She groans. That wasn't part of the plan. Charlotte pauses when she spots Stiles lean forward closer to his camera and she frowns. Scott mirrors her expression. "What?" the boy asks in confusion.

Peering closer at her screen, her eyes widen with fear. It appears that Stiles sees the same as her. The room becomes silent and no audio comes out from the computer. Assuming it's slow internet, she starts to type to Scott but Stiles' message beats her to it. It lights up on the screen and she holds her breath as she reads it,

It looks like someone's behind you.

Charlotte's screen glitches and freezes up every few seconds, with just enough time to see the deep frown on Scott's face before the call cuts. Immediately, she clicks on Stiles' contact to call him back. Not even on the first ring, her best friend's face fills her screen once again. "Did you see what I just saw?"

"Dark shadow in the corner of the room? Strangely looking like a person?"

"Yep. Very much person like."

"Do you reckon we should head over?"

She contemplates this for a moment, then answers, "Do you want my honest opinion?"

Stiles places his chin in the palm of his hand and arches a brow. "No, tell me the best lie you've ever created," he muses sarcastically.

"Honestly? If he can survive being shot by an arrow in the shoulder, I reckon he'll be fine."

"So, Scott could be in a room with a serial killer and you say you 'reckon he'll be fine'?" Stiles mocks her.

"Should I be more concerned?"

"Oh, absolutely."

"I forgot to mention, you know in the craziness of almost being murdered by our best friend this afternoon," she pauses and Stiles motions for her to continue. "I saw Derek Hale today."

"Lovely. He's stalking us now. Do you reckon we can add another possibly homicidal werewolf onto our list?"

"Maybe... Anyways, he was next to the field when we were taking Scott to the locker room. It was really weird..." she trails off. "He was there one minute and then when I looked back he was gone. He literally vanished in thin air."

"Do you think he was taking notes on how to play lacrosse? Or something else?"

"One-hundred percent something else."

"Great. So we've concluded that we have a stalker and said stalker is most likely with said best friend right now?"

Charlotte nods. "Yup. Just another Monday night."

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵 (𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵, 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴) 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘖 𝘊𝘜𝘛𝘌 𝘐 𝘊𝘈𝘕'𝘛.