𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘉𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘬𝘪

"SO, HOW'S THE WHOLE ROSS and Rachel situation going?" Charlotte casually brings up. Her and Allison walk side by side, their arms looped through the other's as they trek across the parking lot and up to the building that had given them so much grief just this year alone. It's a wonder school's allowed to go on when there's a supposed 'serial killer' wandering around Beacon Hills. It's Derek. The supposed serial killer is Derek.

Allison rolls her eyes playfully at her friend. "Of course you had to put a Friends reference in there," she giggles.

"Oh, come on. Do you really expect me not to?"

The brunette lets out a small laugh. "I don't know... I mean, I didn't actually break up with him. We're just on a break-" She quickly places a hand over Charlotte's mouth. Allison raises her eyebrows in warning. "And don't you dare yell out what I know you want to yell out." The girl nods and grins widely when the hand is removed. "I mean, I just need a bit of time after the other night."

Charlotte nods in understanding as she pushes the double doors open that they were only running through that night. "I get it," she replies. "Well, I don't know how you're feeling, but I think I get it. There's no rush, Alli." Her friend slightly smiles at her words. "If Scott McCall cares for you as much as he says he does, he'll give you all the time you need."

"You think?"

"Allison, you never say put 'think' in a sentence when you're talking to me. It's always, 'I know, you're right, Charlotte.' Why? Because I am indeed always right."

Allison grins and pulls the girl closer into her side. "I love you, Charlotte Martin."

"Fuck yeah you do."

»»———-　　———-««

Seated in her usual spot beside Stiles, they watch their best friend enter the classroom to immediately have his eyes fall onto Allison at the front. Charlotte has to cringe when he stops to talk to her. Her head onto the desk with a dull thud. "God, this is like watching a train-wreck," she groans. "An incredibly brutal and bloody train-wreck."

The boy with the buzzcut nods in agreement, finding it just as painful to watch as she is. "Oh, it's awful."

Scott finally sits down in front of them. "Hey, Scott?" He turns around to Charlotte with a hum. "Lydia wants to press charges," she states. "Against you. You know, after the whole leaving us in a classroom to die thing." His eyes widen nervously, and he turns back to the front without a sound. Charlotte breaks into a grin at how he had believed her joking words, and Stiles chuckles to himself. She'd tell him later that of course her sister wasn't going to take legal action. Even if she (sort of) had every right to...

"Right, you have forty-five minutes to complete the test. Twenty-five percent of your grade can be earned right now, simply by writing your name on the cover of the blue book." Charlotte follows said instructions because she would most likely be the person to forget. Stiles also does the same. "However, as happens every year, one of you will inexplicably fail to put your name on the cover." Adrian Harris turns to glare at a certain blonde who has tried her very best to ignore last year's catastrophe. "And I'll be left yet again, questioning my decision to ever become a teacher in the first place. So, let's get the disappointment over with. Begin!"

Flipping open the booklet, her eyes scan over the first question. An increase in imports of consumer goods is most likely to be caused by a... She circles the answer she knows is correct and continues reading through the assessment. But it doesn't take much longer before her attention is pulled over to Scott as he starts to breathe heavily. Charlotte sends a glance to Stiles when their friend rushes out of the room without warning.

"Mr McCall!"

Closing her eyes, Charlotte briefly contemplates over what she's about to do. "Just one test..." she mutters reassuringly to herself. After a collective nod with each other, she and Stiles jump up and race out after him.

"Mr Stilinski! Ms Martin!"

The two teenagers barge through the door and into the hallway to find it completely abandoned. There's no sign of the werewolf anywhere. "Scott?" That's when Stiles' eyes catch sigh of the abandoned backpack in the middle of the floor. He nudges Charlotte and they slowly walk over to the bag, the girl ringing Scott from her phone as Stiles picks it up. They listen closely and it's not long before they hear the distant ring of an incoming call tone.

It leads to the locker room. Charlotte looks to Stiles and he nods hesitantly before they open the door. However, as soon as she hears the shower running, she shoves her friend forward, her own feet firmly planted on the ground. The Stilinski's mouth gapes open until she fairly points out, "He could be naked! I don't love Scott that much."

Stiles grimaces and cautiously ventures further into the room. He lets out a sigh of relief and yells back, "All good!"

Charlotte smiles and follows after him to find Scott leaning against the tiled wall. He turns off the cascading stream of water and looks over his shoulder to the pair. "Stiles? Charlie, I ca-" He cuts himself off, his breathing becoming irregular.

She takes a small step forward, her eyes refusing to leave his figure. "Scott? Just focus on my voice, okay?"

"What's happening?" Stiles questions in concern. "Are you changing?"

Scott shakes his head. "No, no. I can't breathe." Charlotte shuts her eyes briefly, then meets Stiles', both pairs holding worry. Panic attack, she mouths to him. A combination of realisation and understanding falls upon his face as he tosses her the werewolf's inhaler. "What-"

"Scott, just try it," she tells him calmly. His eyes meet hers. She curtly nods. "Try it," she repeats reassuringly.

Scott takes a deep breath in and takes a puff of the inhaler. After a minute of repeating the process a few further times and managing to calm his breathing pattern and racing heart, he nods. Then he lifts his head up in confusion. "I was having an asthma attack?" he questions.

Charlotte takes another step forward and crouches before the boy. She gently takes a hold of his upper arm and helps him stand up, walking out of the shower area. "No, it was a panic attack," she corrects softly. Scott's eyes flick between her and Stiles, the latter nodding to confirm her statement. "It was psychological," she tries to explain. "By convincing you that you were having an asthma attack with the inhaler, it actually stopped the panic attack."

Scott's eyes widen in surprise. "Irony, hey?" Stiles adds with a small smile.

"How did you both know how to do it?"

Stiles gestures to the girl standing next to them. "She thought of it."

With a pair of curious and questioning eyes on her, she sighs. "I've had my fair share of panic attacks to know what the signs are." Stiles looks down to the floor at her words.

Scott thickly swallows. "I just looked at her and it was like someone had hit me in the ribs with a hammer."

It's a terrible time to want to do so, considering how miserable the boy appears, but Charlotte finds herself wanting to remark something sarcastic or amusing. Luckily for her, Stiles beats her to it. "Yeah. It's called heartbreak..."

She nods. "Just listen to Justin Bieber. Actually, Taylor Swift is even better." Stiles clicks his tongue in agreement. "You'll know what we mean."

"I can't stop thinking about her!"

"How about this? Think about how her dad, her aunt- no, her entire family like to go put dogs asleep in their free time. So if you think about it, this..." She points to Scott then over to the door leading back into the corridor. "Well, it was never really going to work in the long term."

Stiles nudges her once noticing Scott's frown. "True," he agrees. "But I don't think it was really helpful."

Charlotte winces. It appears her words had been harsher than she had intended them to be, as a fresh set of tears have welled up in Scott's eyes. "Aw, shit, I'm sorry..."

"Scott, you got dumped. It's meant to fucking suck," Stiles shares as if it's the most obvious fact in the world.

The girl's mouth drops open. "They're on a break!" she exclaims defensively.

But it's apparent that she's the only one that thinks this as the boys both ignore her words. "No... It's not that!" Scott continues on as if she hadn't said anything. "It was like I could feel everything. Everyone's emotions."

Charlotte frowns. "Isn't the full moon tonight?"

Stiles gasps in realisation. "Yes! Brilliant, Charlie. That has to be it. We'll follow the plan and lock you in your room later tonight."

Scott shakes his head, sitting down on a bench. "No," he says. "I think we might need to do a lot more than that."

Stiles pulls a face. "What, because if you get out you'd be caught by hunters?"

"No. Because if I get out, I think I might kill someone."

"Christ, dramatic much?"

»»———-　　———-««

A shrill whistle ricochets off the walls of the locker room. It's quickly followed by Bobby Finstock's booming voice. "All right, geniuses, listen up! Due to the recent pink-eye epidemic — thank you, Greenberg — the following people have made first line on a probationary basis; emphasis on the word 'probationary.'" Charlotte takes her seat beside her boys as the lacrosse team crowds around Coach with anticipation. "Martin!"

Her head flips up. "Coach?"

"What the hell are you doing in here?"

Charlotte purses her lips together as Stiles and Scott share a smile. "Coach, remember last year how you said I could attend meetings?" The truth is, he did indeed tell her she could attend meetings, and Charlotte did know that it was going to be called today. However, she had no idea what it would be about.

The man scoffs. "How the hell did you know I was going to call a meeting?"

"You told me yesterday," she reminds him.

"I told- You know what, forget it." Charlotte grins and bump Scott and Stiles' outstretched fists. "If you know so much about this meeting, get up here and take over." Her eyes widen. Well shit. Her encouragingly pat her on the back as she stands up, and loud cheers erupt across the room as the team claps her on. "Shut it!"

Charlotte stands beside Coach who holds a sticky note in his hand. She delicately plucks it out of his grip despite the following curses, and grins when spotting Stiles' thumbs up and wide smile. "Rodriguez!" The cheers return as she calls out the first name. "Welcome to first line, dude. And you too, Taylor!" As she listens to the applause, she watches Stiles' smile turn into a disappointed frown upon not hearing his name yet. Her eyes land on the next name and she pretends to squint her eyes. "Coach? I can't read your writing."

She holds the note out to him, and compared to hers, Bobby Finstock's reaction is actually real. "Ah, for the love of crap, I can't even read my own writing," he mutters in frustration.

After countless years of being best friends with two boys, Charlotte had developed the natural gift of being able to read illegible writing. "Coach, I think that's... An S?" Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Stiles' head snap up and his eyes widen with excitement.

"No... I think it's an A," Coach corrects. Stiles visibly deflates.

"Wait, no, I think it's a B..."

"Yes! Martin, you're right. It's definitely a B."

She claps her hands together. "Okay, gents! We've got Rodriguez, Taylor, and... I'm not sure if this is right..." She sends an uncertain look over to Coach, and he nods firmly. "Bilinski!" Charlotte watches with a grin as Stiles jumps up, yelling and cheering for himself with absolute joy.

"Bilinski?"

"Yes, Coach?"

Coach glances to the girl standing beside and she nods back at him before they both yell, "Shut it!"

Her best friend's smile quickly morphs into a strong glare, and behind him, Scott struggles to hold back his laughter. With a clap on the back from Coach as a job well done, she weaves through the team and back over to the bench. "You bitch!" Stiles hisses to her accusingly.

Charlotte's brows arch and her smile turns innocent. "Sorry, Stiles, what did you say?"

He blankly stares at the two. "No. It's Biles," he correctly. "Call me Biles or I swear to fucking God I will kill you." Scott opens his mouth but is swiftly cut off. "No. Scott, it's Biles Bilinski." The boy slowly nods with an amused smile on his face.

Charlotte giggles. "Blame Coach," she says. "He couldn't read."

"Wh-But-"

Scott rolls his eyes as he points out, "Dude, you can read our writing."

"Bingo," she confirms. Stiles, completely lost for words, just gawks at her incredulously.

"Another thing!" All attention returns to Coach. "From here on out. Immediately, we're switching to co-captains."

Charlotte stands back up when Coach motions for her. Now this she remembers. "Congrats, McCall!" Scott's eyes meet hers in disbelief, shock etched upon his face.

Jackson's eyes shoot daggers her way as he spits out hatefully, "What did you just say?"

Coach turns to him. The boy flinches ever so slightly. "What do you mean, 'what'? There's no 'what.' Jackson, this takes nothing away from you. This is about combining separate strengths into one single unit. This is about taking your unit and McCall's unit... We're making one big unit. McCall, it's you and Jackson now!"

This exact moment was worth every single second Charlotte had spent pestering Coach over the years. Jackson's reaction is absolutely priceless.

"Everybody else! Asses on the field! Now!"

The team spreads out and the trio make their way out of the locker room. Stiles shakes his head in bewilderment. "You knew?" he questions.

She nods. "Oh, absolutely. It's been impossible to hide."

He grins, and she high fives him. "Can you actually believe it? Scott, you're captain and I'm fucking first line! I'm first fucking line!"

Charlotte's smile widens. "Yes, you are bud. And Scott, please pretend to look a little more excited."

As they walk out the door, Stiles is basically jumping up and down. "Are you not freaking out? Scott, I'm freaking out!"

Scott rolls his eyes and grumbles, "What's the point? It's just a stupid title." Charlotte's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she and Stiles share a look of surprise. "And I could practically smell the jealously in there."

"That was all Whittewhore. You should have seen his face."

"Charlie, we did see it-" Stiles falters as he revisits a specific sentence. "Wait, you smell jealously?"

"Here we go," she mutters to herself.

Stiles turns his full attention onto the werewolf and pulls him to a stop. "Can you pick up on stuff? Like, for example, desire?"

Scott frowns. "What do you mean?" His brows arch and he casts a look to Charlotte who is about to burst into fits of laughter. "Like sexual desire?"

"Yeah! Sexual desire," Stiles confirms. "Lust, passion, arousal!"

"From Lydia?"

Charlotte suddenly feels nauseous. "Stiles!"

"Who? What? No," he quickly denies. He clears his throat. "In a general, more broader sense." With his eyes narrowing he glances back over to. "Can. You. Smell. Sexual desire?"

"From Lydia to you?"

The girl gags. "Oh, God help me, please. Anyone..."

"Fine!" Stiles exclaims in defeat. "Yes. Fine. From Lydia to me."

He turns to the blonde for backup, but she puts her hands up. "I'm seriously surprised I'm still here. This conversation is something I do not need to listen to. Like, at all."

Stiles grits his teeth. "Look! I need to know if I have a chance with her."

Charlotte sighs sympathetically and lays a hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Stiles..."

"I've been obsessing over her since third fucking grade! Okay? I need to know!"

"Oh, we know all right."

"Charlotte, please shut up!" Stiles yells a little too loudly. Nearby heads turn their way. She scoffs but follows the instruction.

"Why don't you just ask her?"

Stiles Stilinski looks like Scott has physically punched him square in the face. "Well. To obviously save myself bodily crushing humiliation, can you please just go up and ask her if she likes me? You know, listen for the heartbeat..."

Scott rolls his eyes and walks off down the hall. "Fine," he says.

"What? I love you. Scott, I love you! You're my best friend in the whole entire fucking world!"

Charlotte whacks his arm and he yelps in pain. "Excuse me? What the hell, Stilinski?"

"Oh."

"Yes 'oh.'"

"You're both my best friends in the whole entire fucking world?"

She cracks a grin and loops their arms together as they begin walking after Scott. "That's more like it," she agrees happily.

It's twenty minutes later that they're in the middle of a conversation as they sit on a bench in the lacrosse field. For the last fifteen of those twenty minutes, Stiles Stilinski had been adamantly rambling on that there must be some sort of higher power above that will gift him a chance with his best friend's sister. The remaining five of those twenty minutes had been Charlotte Martin explaining to the boy her realistic reasons and rather obvious proof that the above topic won't happen.

"So the amount of times that I've told you that Lydia, one: still doesn't know 'What a Stiles is,' and two: she doesn't love you, still makes you think you've got a chance?"

He furiously nods his head at her. "Yes!"

Charlotte hums and finishes tying her hair into a braid. "Whatever you say, Bilinski," she mutters. She's given up. In a way, she admires his persistence.

Scott drops down next to them and Stiles immediately turns his head to the boy with hope shining within his eyes. "So? How did it go?"

"How did what go?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" Stiles questions. His face falls. "Scott, tell me you asked her..." Charlotte's eyes squint slightly as she studies the werewolf. Something's been off about him all day, but she's been placing it down as tonight's full moon.

Scott looks up from tying up his shoes and stares directly at Stiles. "Yeah," he confirms. "Yeah, she likes you. In fact, she's totally into you."

Stiles gasps and turns to his other best friend, lively with excitement and disbelief. "Lottie, did you hear that? Oh, my God!"

She smiles at him, trying to share his emotions. Her eyes fall to her Converse. Even the tone that Scott had used to answer him in... It has to be the full moon. A werewolf's version of period. Then her phone rings loudly. Scott grimaces and covers his ears. "Sorry..." She looks to him sheepishly before answering. "Hi, Mom- woah. Hold on. Okay, yep, I'm heading out now. Yep, love you, too."

"Did she lock herself out again?"

Charlotte sighs. "Nope I wish. Prada got through the back fence. I'll see you guys tonight, yeah?" She smiles at them both. "Have fun."

After leaving buzzing Stiles and weirdly quiet Scott, she bumps into her sister. "Lottie! Hey, where are you going?" Lydia questions in confusion. She nods toward the lacrosse field. "I thought you were watching practise... Wait, did Mom lock herself out?"

"Why do people always think of that first? No, Prada's gone again."

The strawberry blonde chuckles. "I love that dog to death but she's going to kill us."

Charlotte nods, then she grimaces at her twin's physical appearance. "Hey, Lyds?" Her sister hums in response. "If you and Jackson can't find a room here, at least try to make yourself look decent."

When she raises her brows in confusion, Charlotte points to her bra visibly sticking out of her top, then her smudged lipstick. "Oh!" Lydia blushes a faint shade of pink in embarrassment. "Thanks." Her siblings reciprocates the smile and walks off to find her car, then her dog.

»»———-　　———-««

"I forgot to bring my key..."

Her eyes light up as she digs around in her bag. "I got mine," she reassures him. The girl unlocks the front door and allows Stiles to walk through first. He dumps their heavy duffle bag onto the floorboards.

"Scott?"

Both teenagers freeze at the older McCall's voice, and they sheepishly smile once the woman walks around the corner and spots them. "Hey, Mel..."

Melissa laughs and points to Charlotte's hand. "Key!"

The girl hesitantly nods. "Yeah, had one made a few years ago," she reveals.

Melissa throws her head back. "Of course you did. And what about you?"

She looks to Stiles who is proud to say, "Yeah, got one, too." He sighs. "Left it at home though..."

A loud sigh of exasperation leaves Melissa's lips. "Neither of you surprise me anymore," she states. "That..." She points back to the key. "That just scares me. It scares me a lot. But it no longer surprises me." The curly-haired woman glances down to the black bag on the floor and raises her eyebrows questioningly. "And what's that?"

The pair turn to each other with wide, panicked eyes. "History project!" Stiles quickly says.

Melissa nods hesitantly. They didn't know what they would say if she had looked inside. Her demeanour suddenly shifts from light-hearted and a little frustrated, to concerned. "Charlotte, he's okay?"

Her head tilts to the side slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Scott, he's okay, right?"

"Why didn't you ask me..." Stiles trails off as he realises how worried for her son Melissa is.

"Yeah, Mel, he's okay." Charlotte sends a gentle smile to her second mother-like-figure.

Melissa nods unconvincingly. "He just doesn't talk to me that much anymore," she says quietly. "Not like he used to."

Stiles motions upstairs to his friend and walks off to leave them alone. Charlotte softly sighs. "Him and Allison are on a break, and he's, well, he's not doing too great." It's not a lie. She's just not telling the whole truth.

The woman's eyes meet the grains in the wooden flooring, then back to the blonde before her. "Yeah! Yeah, I get it." Charlotte swears she hears her heart fracture. She just wishes she could do something more. But again, it's not her secret to tell. "Um, all right then. Be careful tonight, full moon and all."

Her heart thuds a little faster. Maybe... "What do you mean?"

"There's a full moon tonight. You should see how the ER gets... Brings out all the nutjobs."

She subconsciously releases a small sigh of relief. Then her frown reappears. "Mel, you're okay... right?"

She weakly smiles at the girl. "I think so. Thank you, sweetheart. Seriously, I don't know what Scott would do without the two of you." Charlotte doesn't respond. Instead, she walks forward a few steps and wraps her arms around the older woman's torso. "Oh! Honey, are you all right?"

"Yeah," she whispers. "I'm fine." She just desperately needs a hug.

Melissa nods, albeit it a little uncertain, and pulls back. "Have fun with the project, tell Stiles I said goodbye. And... You know what, never mind. If I made you get rid of that, you'd somehow find a way to make another one."

Charlotte grins at the statement toward her key and shuts the front door after the eldest McCall. Racing up the stairs, she finds Stiles and Scott in the latter's bedroom. "Scotty! Hey, you- woah... Have you already killed someone?"

The boy slowly turns his head over to her. "What do you mean?"

"Just, uh, got that whole Ted Bundy serial killer look going on right now..."

"Oh, yeah, that's totally freaking me out as well," Stiles adds, his eyes still wide at Scott who is sitting in an armchair beside his bed.

"I'm fine," the werewolf replies, void of emotion.

"Uh huh..." Charlotte responds slowly, crouching down next to Stiles as she unzips the duffle bag.

"I'm just gonna lock the door and go to bed early tonight."

"Sure, Scott. Just so you can open the window, run out, howl at the moon, and go off to actually kill someone... Unless that's already happened-"

"Charlotte!" She halts her ramble and glances to Stiles who has a strong glare of warning painted on his face.

"I'm fine," Scott reassures them. "You both should just go."

His friends share a look, then return their attention back to their best friend. "All right," Charlotte says in agreement. "Going. Walking out the door."

"At least take a look in the bag that we brought? Maybe use it, maybe don't?" Stiles' eyes nervously dart between Scott and the bag as he and the girl slowly walk backward out of the room.

Scott unzips the bag further and pulls out chains. "I'm not going to let you chain me up like a dog," he states in that same monotone voice.

"Well, you are a dog... And really got the whole serial killer vibe..." Charlotte winces as Stiles elbows her, and she realises that he's just as anxious as she is.

The boy straightens his posture and holds his breath for a few seconds. "Actually, no." He suddenly lurches forward and pulls out a pair of handcuffs to lock Scott against the heater.

"Oh, dang," she whispers in surprise, watching from the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" Scott yells angrily, pulling forcefully against the cuffs. No luck.

"Protecting you from yourself," Stiles answers determinedly. "And giving you some payback."

Charlotte turns to him in confusion. "Wait, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, that's right," Scott muses. "She doesn't know."

"Someone tell me what's going on!"

With heartbreak and betrayal on his face, Stiles says, "Payback for kissing Lydia."

"I didn't see that one coming..."

»»———-　　———-««

"Okay. So definitely all for the punishing mode right now. He totally deserves it. And I am so talking to Lydia about this later. But handcuffs? Are those even going to hold him?"

Stiles looks back and forth between Charlotte and the room where Scott is currently locked up in. "Maybe?" He focuses back on his nervous friend as he adds, "By the way I took your idea from a few weeks ago."

"What idea-" He pulls out a dog bowl with a bottle of water. A grin instantly appears on her face. "Oh my God, I love you so much right now." Stiles proudly smiles. Charlotte gladly takes the items from him and re-enters the bedroom. She stands before Scott, unscrews the lid of the water bottle, and pours the liquid into the bowl. She grins at Scott who scowls in return. "See this?" She motions to the capitalised 'SCOTT' written on the front of the bowl and tosses the empty bottle into his trash can.

Scott's reply is yet another glare. He's loving those tonight.

"'Cause you're a dog?" She giggles. "Man, I've wanted to do this for ages." She places the bowl just out of reach from him and as she turns to walk away, she calls out, "Go fetch, Scotty!"

"I'm gonna kill you!"

Charlotte jumps in shock at the water that drenches the back of her t-shirt. "How the fuck did he get that..." she mutters incredulously. She turns back around to the boy. "All right, I get we're angry and moody, but no need to act like a toddler, Scott. We don't throw things at other people." When he growls at her, she gulps and walks backward. "Okay, I'm finished."

With rage simmering off him, Stiles storms back in, glowering at his best friend. "You kissed her, Scott. You kissed Lydia! If anything, I should get to kill you. That's like the one girl that I- you know what? The past three hours- no, all day, both of us," he points back at Charlotte, "have been thinking that it's just the full moon. He doesn't know what he's doing and tomorrow he'll be back to normal. He probably won't even remember what a complete dick he's been, an absolute dick, a shit friend-"

"She kissed me," Scott interrupts abruptly. Charlotte peers around the corner of the wall to look into the bedroom.

"What...?" Stiles whispers.

"I didn't kiss her. She kissed me. She would have done a lot more, too."

The girl strides over to grab Stiles' hand and lead him back into the hallway. "Don't listen to him," she sternly tells him. She taps his cheek with two fingers to grab his attention. His eyes snap to hers. "Hey, just focus on me, okay?"

"You should have seen the way she had her hands all over me. She would have done anything I wanted. Anything!"

"Stiles, ignore him, okay? He just wants a reaction. Are you gonna tell me how lacrosse practise went? I can't believe I managed to keep that first line stuff away from you."

He gives her a small smile. "Yeah. I can't believe you did either."

Ten minutes later, they're still sitting outside of Scott's bedroom. The boy with the buzzcut reaches out and grips onto her hand as their friend calls out, "Stiles! Charlotte. Please let me out. It's the full moon, I swear! You know I wouldn't do any of this on purpose. Please, Charlie, let me out! It's starting to hurt."

She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the wall, trying to block out his suddenly emotional pleads. "Charlie, look at me." Charlotte opens her eyes to see Stiles crouched in front of her. "Wanna talk about how you got Coach to let you into the meetings? And how you purposefully forgot to tell us about it?"

"It's not like the first time! It's the full moon, it's Allison breaking up with me! I know that it's not just taking a break..."

"We were on a break!" Stiles says with a smile. Charlotte weakly returns it.

"She broke up with me! And it's killing me. I feel completely hopeless. Just, Lottie, please let me out!"

A tear drops down her cheek. Charlotte's voice is a whisper as she replies, "Scott, you know I can't."

"No! No!" They hear the boy scream out, and they tighten their hold on each other's hands as they listen to him yell in pain.

Suddenly the room falls quiet. Stiles and Charlotte look to each other with a sliver of worry. "Scott? Are you okay?" the former calls out. When they receive no response, she stands up, Stiles following after her as she gently pushes the door open. "Shit," he whispers. With droplets of blood and the handcuffs discarded beside the heater, the window above it has been wrenched open wide, the wind flowing in and rustling the curtains.

The full moon shines brightly up in its place within the stars.

Charlotte groans in frustration. "Not again!"

»»———-　　———-««

Jerking the steering wheel harshly to the side, the car suddenly veers around the corner and onto the main road. "Watch the Jeep, Charlie! Watch the Jeep!" Stiles shrieks out in alarm. He grips the side of the car as her foot only presses down further on the acceleration pedal.

She momentarily takes her eyes off the road to apologetically smile at him. "Sorry." However, the vehicle quickly screeches to a halt once they spot the flashing blue and red lights up ahead and blocking the road. The teenagers turn to each other and scramble out the vehicle in a hurry, suddenly forgetting about their quest to find Scott.

"Dad? Dad?"

Racing up to the marked off area, Charlotte and Stiles let their eyes flick around as they try to find the older Stilinski. Cops grab both of their arms then start to drag them out before the girl catches sight of a covered body being wheeled on a gurney into the ambulance.

Stiles follows her line of sight and they wrench their wrists out of the grips of the officers, beelining over to the corpse. "Look..." He points to a hand that has dropped out from the sheet, skin peeling with bloodied and raw burns covering the area. Fear fills both of their eyes as they register that it could be his father.

"Stiles? Charlotte?" Spinning around, the teens spin around to see Noah Stilinski standing before them with surprise. Charlotte lets out a deep sigh of relief and she smiles softly as her best friend rushes forward and collides into his dad, embracing him into a hug. "All right, both of you tell me what the hell you're doing out here so late."

𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴!

𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳!
𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴.

𝘓𝘪𝘷 𝘹𝘹