𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯

NATALIE MARTIN WATCHES IN CONCERN as her daughter shoves spoonful's of cereal into her mouth. "Are you sure you don't want to stay home another day?"

Charlotte's eyes flick over to her and she shrugs. "I've gotta go," she says, her voice muffled by the Cocoa Puffs. "And the last time I checked, school isn't optional."

"I know, but are you sure? I can call in-"

"Mom, seriously." She gives the older woman a small smile for reassurance. "I'll be okay. Promise."

"Plus, she's got me in all her classes," Lydia adds as she walks into the room.

Their mother looks between them hesitantly, unsure what to do. After a few moments she slowly nods. "Okay, but call me if you need anything."

Since telling her mother about her almost attempted suicide, things had been... strange. Charlotte was sick of the people who knew walking on eggshells when with her. It's as if she is a delicate shard of glass, just waiting to shatter to pieces. There is nothing in the world that can describe how awful that feeling is. Scott had been getting almost annoyingly clingy, messaging her every hour, on the hour, to make sure she was still alive. It was sweet at first. At first. And her mom was being too motherly. Surprisingly, Lydia was behaving the most normal.

So she's doing what she does best: suppressing her emotions. And pretending everything is normal includes going to school and continuing on as if things are okay. Because maybe if she pretended things were okay, she would be okay. Fake it till you make it, right? And over the next few months, that's exactly what Charlotte did.

»»———-　　———-««

On the way to the first class for the day, Charlotte's back stiffens as she feels a pair of eyes bore into the back of her head. She's felt the stare for a few minutes now. As the girl walks past a nearby window, she sighs upon noticing the reflection.Tyler. Her heart rate immediately picks up, the anger she had pushed down suddenly bursting over the edge at the mere sight of him. She walks around the corner and stops to wait for him to pass by. The second she sees him, Charlotte grabs him by the collar of his shirt and harshly pulls him into a nearby empty classroom. "Char-"

Tyler's eyes widen in panic when he is shoved up against the wall and a dagger is brought up to his throat. "Shut up," she seethes. "You're lucky I haven't killed you yet. What the fuck are you doing following me?"

His throat bobs against the sharp blade as he swallows, his eyes flicking between the knife and her eyes. "I just wanted to talk," he says quietly. "I'm so sorry about Boyd, I told her not-"

Charlotte's fist clenches in rage, resulting in the dagger creating a shallow cut on his skin that is quick to heal. "You don't deserve to say his name," she snaps. "I am so sick of your excuses!"

"I'm not making excuses!" he exclaims in defence. "Deucalion told me-"

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. "Deucalion told you. If Deucalion told you to jump off a fucking cliff, would you? No better yet, if he told you to kill me, would you?"

"He wouldn't," Tyler instantly denies.

Charlotte laughs. "All right, that's my bad." Her face falls blank. "Let's make it into a hypothetical situation. What about then?"

"I-I..." He sighs and avoids her piercing gaze.

The lack of an answer is enough for another piece of her heart to crack. Killing her friends is one thing, but killing her? As her hand falls back to her side, Charlotte stares at him in shock. "Oh, my God, you would." She stumbles a few steps away from him. Her jaw clenches. "We aren't friends Tyler. Any chance you had at redeeming yourself is long gone."

The boy's eyes widen in alarm and he moves forward to her, but freezes when he watches the grip on her dagger resting by her side tighten. "I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I'm so, so sorry."

She nods. "I really, really hope you are. And I'm going to let you live with that guilt. Because frankly, you deserve so much worse." Without another word, she leaves the room and a stunned Tyler McCall trying to comprehend what the hell had just happened, and what the hell he's done.

Charlotte hurries down the hallway to make it to English before the class starts, hoping to get a chance to talk to Stiles or Scott before Jennifer Blake walks in. She had learnt about her and Derek's... relations, which explains why she was there at the loft the other day.

Alli ➴♡

You ok? I haven't seen you today

Trying to use the time to figure out
what my dad's doing...

Stay safe and keep me updated <3

She pockets her phone as she walks into the room and takes her usual spot in front of Lydia. The girls smile at each other, and the blonde turns to look at her best friends who are also already seated, however, before Scott can ask why he can smell so much anger on her, their teacher enters and informs all devices to be turned off. A few minutes later, Jennifer Blake finally stops writing on the blackboard and begins the lesson. "Idioms, analogies, metaphors, and similes... All the tools the writer uses to tell their story." She stops by the younger Martin twin and her brows raise in surprise at whatever is being drawn in the notebook. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents...?"

Humming in agreement, the girl in question looks up from her book and makes brief eye contact with their teacher. "You and every guy I've ever dated." Charlotte stifles a laugh and reaches a hand behind her to subtly high five her sister.

Jennifer clears her throat to try and pass off Lydia's response. "Oh. Um, well, that was an idiom by the way..." Whilst speaking, her eyes subtly move between Charlotte, Lydia, Stiles, and Scott. All four of the teenagers catch her meaningful look and share a glance with each other as she returns to the lesson. "Idioms are something of a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you know key words. Saying 'jump the gun' is meaningful only if you know about starting gun in a race. Or a phrase like, 'seeing the whole board.'"

"Like chess," Stiles quietly comments.

Stopping to look at him, Miss Blake nods in agreement and a small smile pulls at her lips. "That's right, Stiles. Do you play?"

He clears his throat. "Uh, no. My father does."

Jennifer quickly breaks eye contact from Stiles, clearly very uncomfortable but she plays it off with another smile. "Now, when does an idiom become a cliché...?"

As the woman returns to the front of the class and stops at the blackboard, Scott tunes out her words, thinking about the much more important topic that is definitely on everyone else's minds as well as his own. "Guys," he whispers to his best friends on either side of him. He immediately has Charlotte's eyes locked onto the side of his face, although it takes Stiles just a little longer. "Stiles," Scott repeats impatiently. Still, the boy is twirling his pen between his fingers, completely unaware of the conversation. "Stiles."

His ears suddenly open and his head whips around to look at his friend loudly hissing for his attention. "Wha-what? What?" Charlotte giggles.

"Okay, I think I can get to Ethan," Scott begins, drawing his friends' attention away from their petty bickering and to the matter at hand. "I'm pretty sure I can make him talk."

Her eyes narrow at the name of the Alpha. "I'm sorry, why the fuck would you want to talk to Ethan?" she questions the boy quietly. "Why are any of us still talking to him? In fact, I don't know why we're not killing them ourselves right now."

When Stiles points to her, nodding in agreement, Scott sighs. "The druids are emissaries, right? So, what if the Darach was an emissary to the Alphas?"

"Okay, first of all," Stiles starts. "I cannot believe we've gotten to the point where a sentence like, 'What if the Darach was an emissary to the Alphas?' actually makes sense to me."

Charlotte's eyebrows furrow in confusion as she glances between the boys. "What's an emissary?" she asks.

"Think of it like an advisor for a pack," Stiles responds.

She purses her lips, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, Morrell's doing a shit job at that so far."

Scott huffs a laugh and Stiles tries to hide his smile as he remains serious. "Secondly, we're gonna have a huge problem actually getting to Ethan in the first place."

"What's that?"

"Going through Aiden," the Stilinski finishes grimly. "Ever since he's been back at school, they're always together. How are we gonna separate them?"

"Kill them," she immediately answers. The boys look at her for a few seconds, almost like they're contemplating the suggestion, before turning around to Lydia. Charlotte rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on!"

The strawberry blonde looks up from her notebook and sighs at the pointed stares Stiles and Scott are giving her. "What now?"

Charlotte looks over her shoulder to Lydia, not understanding why the boys are going to her. "Why do we need her to distract Aiden?" When Stiles arches a brow, her face falls. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God! Don't tell me what I'm thinking is happening is actually true..."

Lydia closes her eyes briefly. "I was going to tell you," she whispers to her apologetically. The look of disappointment and hurt that flashes over Charlotte's face sends a stab to her heart. It's also enough for her to decide that from now on, she won't have anything to do with the Alpha werewolf. She can't hurt her sister like that again.

"You're fucking Aiden?" she hisses in disbelief. But when her twin only gives her silence, she nods and turns back to the front of the classroom, determined to just try and get through the rest of the day.

»»———-　　———-««

Screw that plan. It wasn't working. At all. After being dragged along with her best friends, Charlotte stands across from Ethan Steiner. As she leans on the wall, her narrowed eyes cast a heated glare onto the Alpha who shifts uncomfortably under her stare. "Why are you even talking to me?" he asks the trio. "I helped kill your friend. How do you know I'm not gonna kill another one?"

Stiles' eyebrows shoot up disbelief and he leans over to the girl beside him. "Is he looking at me?"

"I think he is," she nods. "Because if he's looking at me, he knows that I'll snap his neck right here." She swears the werewolf pales a shade lighter.

"Are you threatening me? You know what I'm gonna do?" Stiles pushes off the wall he had been leaning on and confidently stands before the werewolf. "I'm gonna break off an extra large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe, and shove it up your fucking-"

Scott's eyes widen and he pats the boy's chest as he interrupts. "Whoa! Stiles." He breathes a laugh. "Okay, we get it!"

Charlotte clicks her tongue in disapproval. "No, no, I want to hear the rest of it. 'Cause it was sounding like a pretty good plan." Ethan rolls his eyes.

"We're talking to you because I know that you didn't want to kill Boyd," Scott says. "And I think that if something like that happened now, you wouldn't do it again."

Her smile slips off her face. "Yeah, I strongly disagree with that," she retorts. Stiles vigorously nods his head in agreement.

Guilt briefly flashes across the boy's face. "You don't know what we owe them, especially Deucalion. We weren't like Kali and Ennis when we met him. We weren't Alphas."

"What were you?" Scott questions.

"Omegas," Ethan responds. "In actual wolf packs, Omegas are the scapegoat, the last to eat, the one who has to take the abuse from the rest of the pack."

A short laugh leaves Charlotte's lips. "Sorry, are you saying you were the bitches of the pack?" she asks, thoroughly amused. Stiles snorts.

He nods. "Something like that."

"So, what happened?"

"They were killers. I mean, people talk about us as monsters... Well, they were the ones who gave us the reputation. And our Alpha was the worst of them."

The girl rolls her eyes. "Unless Deucalion is secretly capable of possession, you and your brother are the sole responsibilities for your 'reputation.'"

Stiles folds his arms over his chest. "Why didn't you just fight back? Form Voltron-Wolf, you know? Kick everyone's asses?"

She grins. "Because they were the bitches of the pack."

Ethan ignores her. "We couldn't, we didn't know how to control it back then," he says.

"Deucalion taught you," Scott realises.

"And then, we fought. We took down the whole pack, one by one. And by the time we got to our Alpha, he was begging for his life. And we tore him apart. Literally." Stiles and Charlotte share a look at how Ethan's eyes stare into the distance as if he's reliving the memories. He doesn't seem remorseful whatsoever.

"What about your emissary?" When Ethan's eyes flick down to the ground and he gives the slightest shake of his head, Scott's eyes widen. "They're all dead? Kali and Ennis' too?"

"All of them except for Deucalion."

"You mean Morrell?" Stiles clarifies.

But before the werewolf can either confirm or deny, Ethan suddenly gasps, his hands flying up to his chest as if he's in pain. "What? What's wrong?" Scott asks in alarm. "Are you hurt?"

A sadistic smile adorns Charlotte's face. "Let's hope so."

"Not me," Ethan answers between heavy breaths. "My brother."

Charlotte's face falls as soon as she remembers who else is with Aiden. "Lydia's with him," she says in horror. As she takes off racing down the corridor, the boys quickly follow, the werewolves pushing in front to lead them toward the growls and snarls.

The four burst into the locker room just in time to see Aiden lifting one of the bench press weights above his head, ready to attack an already very wounded Cora on the floor. Ethan and Scott grab his arms, and the weight clatters to the floor. "Hey! You can't do this!" Ethan yells.

Charlotte drops to her knees beside her sister crouched beside Cora, and she scans Lydia's body, checking for any injuries. "You okay?" she asks in concern.

The girl nods, grimacing as her eyes move to Aiden fighting against the two restraining him. "I tried to stop him," she says quietly. "I really did."

"She came at me!" Aiden's voice booms in rage.

Stiles, Lydia, and Charlotte look up from Cora and to the conversation being held between the twins. "It doesn't matter!" Ethan replies with just as much force. "Kali gave Derek until the next full moon. You can't touch him or her."

Charlotte's body tenses at the female Alpha's name and she sighs. Turning back to Cora, she brushes the bloodied hair out of the girl's eyes and grazes her fingers over the deep gash on her forehead. As a response, Cora quietly moans in pain, her eyes still tightly screwed shut. "Hey, guys, I think she's pretty hurt," Stiles murmurs.

They watch as Charlotte helps the werewolf up and over to one of the sinks to help clean the dried blood off her forehead. She winces as soon as the water hits her skin, and Charlotte gives her an apologetic smile. "Are you okay?" Scott asks her.

Lydia grimaces as she hands her sister another damp paper towel. "She doesn't look okay."

"I'll heal," Cora replies with a roll of her eyes.

Charlotte throws the bloodied paper towels into the nearby bin and she steadies the girl's shoulders when she stumbles back. "You should have healed by now," she observes in concern. "We need to get you home. You need to rest."

Cora throws her a look filled with annoyance. "I said I'm fine," she repeats firmly.

"Do you realise how fucking psychotic that was?" Stiles questions incredulously. "What were you thinking, going after them?"

Cora's eyes narrow and she scoffs quietly. "I did it because none of you are doing anything!"

Scott glances to his best friend to spot Charlotte close her eyes. "We're trying," he says.

"And you're failing," she retorts once more. "You're all just a bunch of stupid teenagers, running around, thinking that you can stop people from being killed.  But all you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies."

As she turns her back on everyone and storms out the bathroom as best as she can, Stiles purses his lips. "She's definitely a Hale," he mutters.

"But she isn't wrong," Charlotte says with a small voice. She sighs. "I'm gonna make sure she's okay." Pushing the door open, she spots the teenager quickly making her way down the hall. "Cora! Wait!"

She tries to spin around but has to brace herself against one of the lockers as she stumbles to the side. "I said I'm fine," Cora says in annoyance. She wouldn't say it, but she's grateful someone went after her. She's grateful Charlotte went after her.

"I'm sure you are," the blonde-haired girl agrees with a small smile. "But can I at least take you home?"

After hesitating for a few seconds, Cora nods. "Yeah, okay." They stand in silence for a moment before she suddenly blurts out, "I'm sorry." Charlotte tilts her head to the side in confusion. "I didn't mean it back there, you're not doing nothing. This is just..." A shaky breath leaves her lips. "It's hard."

"Yeah. Yeah, it is," she says quietly. "It fucking sucks." They lock eyes and share a small smile. The next few seconds cause Charlotte's heart to drop to her feet. Not in a terrified or horrified way, more like she's shocked to her core. In the blink of an eye, Cora's hand cups her cheek and leans closer until their lips softly touch. With wide eyes, Charlotte is quick to gently push her away, confusion etched upon her face. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Kissing you," Cora replies simply.

Feeling incredibly awkward all of a sudden, Charlotte clears her throat. "I-Look, I'm sorry, but I-"

"Don't feel the same way," the Hale finishes. She gives a half-hearted smile. "Got it."

"I'm sorry if I gave you any signals or anything to show that I was, I really am, but I'm in love with someone else." Once the words leave her mouth, Charlotte freezes as she begins to realise what she's just said.

Cora chuckles at the stunned expression she holds. "It's okay. And, actually, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done it anyway."

But Charlotte barely registers the apology. She places a hand to her forehead and mumbles, "Oh, my God, I'm in love with someone else."

"Well, whoever it is, they're one lucky girl. Or guy."

She sighs as the tension seems to have lifted. She matches Cora's smile. "Definitely a girl, I am so gay." They both laugh. "Do you still want a ride?"

Nodding, Cora winces at the movement and gently touches her wound. "Yeah, please."

As the girls walk out the doors of Beacon Hills High School, Charlotte Martin wonders why the hell it's taken her so long to come to the realisation that she's completely head over heels for Allison Argent.

»»———-　　———-««

"Philosophers?"

"And guardians," Allison adds. She clears her throat. "Which, after last night, has to mean something..."

Charlotte's eyes narrow slightly as she listens to the girl talk on speaker phone. "Okay, are we talking law enforcement?" she questions.

"Maybe. I just called Stiles; he picked up Cora pretty much straight after you dropped her off to the loft."

The blonde rolls her eyes in annoyance. "Why wouldn't he just tell me to drop her to his house?" she mutters to herself. The better question would be what the hell is so important for Stiles to pick up Cora when she should be on bed rest from a severe concussion?

"They're gonna tell his dad," Allison says.

She sighs and does a U-turn in the middle of the road to divert her car back to the high school. "Shit..." It's not like it's a bad thing they're telling Noah Stilinski, in fact, it's probably well overdue. "How's the other stuff going?"

"Oh, terrible. Her dad definitely looks like he's the Darach."

Charlotte's brows furrow in confusion when Isaac's voice fills her car. "Isaac? What the hell are you doing?" She shakes her head as she feels a brief flush of jealously. But there's nothing to be jealous of.

"Yeah, he's helping me figure everything out," the Argent explains to her. "Another mark was added to the map so we're gonna go check it out."

"You could've asked me to come help," Charlotte mumbles.

But Allison continues on, seemingly not having heard the quiet comment. "I'll let you know what happens." The line pauses for a few seconds. "Stay safe," she says softly.

As the call hangs up, Charlotte briefly closes her eyes and begins her daily nervous ramble. "Nothing to be jealous of, they're just friends," she says out loud. "Plus, you technically kissed Cora. So, if anything, Allison should be jealous. But why would she be jealous? She's straight. Or if she's not, she's not doing anything about it. Well then Charlotte, you do something about it. No 'cause that's too scary..."

Heaving a heavy, frustrated sigh, she turns the engine off to her car and grabs her bag before making the short trek back up to the school. As she walks up the stairs to the main building, she glances down to time on her phone and picks up the pace once realising she's going to miss her next class. However, on her way to her locker, Charlotte abruptly stops. Her eyes flick down to her feet and she frowns at the piece of white chalk that has rolled out of a nearby classroom. Bending down, the girl picks it up and heads into the empty room, her frown deepening at the picture drawn on the chalkboard.

She recognises it instantly. It's a Celtic fivefold knot. She stills suddenly, her eyes remaining locked onto symbol. Then she feels a pull, like an invisible string is drawing her toward the blackboard to write. After hesitating for a few seconds, Charlotte finally uses the piece of chalk to write the number two in one of the circles. She tilts her head as she looks at it and takes a step back. And then she screams.

It's not long before teachers, students, and the school's security are drawn to the classroom from the piercing scream. But what Charlotte cannot understand for the life of her is why no one has called the Sheriff yet. Her fingers tremble against her side as she stares at Jennifer Blake before her. "Why isn't anyone calling the police?" she questions desperately. Someone's going to die.

The woman gives her a gentle smile, placing her hand on the girl's arm as a comforting gesture. "They're gonna make an announcement over the PA-"

"No, you don't get it!" Charlotte interrupts. "That's not going to do anything!" Miss Blake's smile falls and her expression is one of sympathy. "I told you," she whispers. "He's gone. Just like the others. Taken."

"Okay, look, we're just trying to understand, okay? All we know is that Mr Westover didn't show up for class," Jennifer tries to reason with the visibly distraught teenager.

"Let me in! That's my sister! Let. Me. In!" Their attention turns to Lydia who is loudly protesting at the door, trying to barge past the security. Defeatedly, the security allows her to pass through and she immediately runs over to her sister. The strawberry blonde grabs onto her arms and they lock eyes, Charlotte giving her the smallest nod that she's physically okay. Psychologically? Absolutely not.

Charlotte sighs and turns back to their teacher. "The last time someone didn't show up for class, it was Harris," she points out.

Lydia nods as she folds her arms, remarking, "And has anybody heard from him lately?"

When Jennifer stays silent, the blonde-haired girl returns to the blackboard and points to the number. "He's gone," she repeats firmly. "And he's going to be the second murder."

Then the sympathy returns to Jennifer Blake's eyes. Charlotte's remarkably close to strangling her out of sheer frustration. Why isn't anyone believing her? "But, Charlotte, you wrote that number," the woman says pointedly.

"Fine!" Charlotte's jaw clenches before she says, "I'm psychic."

Jennifer gives her a small smile. "You're psychic?" Lydia's eyes bore into the woman, she's not liking the patronising tone one bit.

Charlotte's fists clench together as she shrieks, "I'm something!" The entire room turns to stare at her. She closes her eyes and allows Lydia to gently take her hand and lead her away from Miss Blake.

"What happened?" the younger twin asks her softly.

Her eyes flick back over to the blackboard. "I-I... I don't know, I came in here and wrote a number. I just had a feeling." She sucks in a sharp breath. "Lydia, I know that he's going to die."

Lydia nods in understanding. "Yeah, I know." When her sister's eyebrows draw together in confusion, she says, "I know because I have the exact same feeling."

The sisters glance sideways as Scott and the twins join them, looking equally as concerned as the other. "Charles, are you okay?" Scott asks her quietly. "We heard everything."

"Scott, he's gone. There's something else too..." Charlotte lowers her voice as she brings up her conversation with Allison from earlier. "Allison and Isaac are looking into her father. They think it's philosophers as in law enforcement. I thought the same... but after this, it makes me think it could be something else."

Lydia's eyes widen in realisation. "Teachers?"

"It's possible," Charlotte confirms with a nod. Her eyes move back onto Scott. "Talk to Stiles, see if he knows anything about Tara's previous employment." The boy curtly nods and walks out the room, phone in hand. But when Ethan and Aiden move to follow him, she darts forward and grabs onto the latter's wrist. She pulls him to the side where Lydia can't hear them and her eyes narrow to slits. "If you hurt my sister- if you ever even think about breaking her heart, I will kill you. All you need to do is give me another reason. And Aiden, I'm done making empty threats."

He snatches his arm out of her surprisingly tight grasp. He's slightly unnerved at how dangerously calm her voice is, how it didn't waver once. "Got it," he mutters.

"Lottie, you coming?"

Charlotte plasters on a smile and purposely bumps into Aiden's shoulder as she walks over to join her sister. "Yeah, let's go home."

»»———-　　———-««

After making the decision to skip the rest of the day at school, the Martin siblings sit on Lydia's bed in silence as they rifle through tubs of nail polish. It's therapy, as Lydia would say. Charlotte reluctantly picks out a shade of grey after being literally forced to do so and lets her sister start painting the colour onto her fingernails. "What do you think is wrong with us?" the strawberry blonde asks suddenly.

Charlotte softly sighs and looks up to the girl whose eyes are narrowed in concentration. "I don't know, I really don't know... But Deaton gave me some papers the other week, I haven't had a chance to read them yet."

Lydia sets the brush back into the small bottle and her eyebrows raise curiously. "About...?"

"Possibilities on what we could be," she answers. "There's pretty much every single supernatural creature listed in there. He said it's hard to narrow down the list at the moment, considering our 'abilities' aren't super obvious, like glowing eyes or fangs."

"So we're definitely supernatural?"

Charlotte slowly nods and blows on the polish drying on her nails. "I think so, I mean... we're finding dead bodies." She cracks a small, half-hearted smile. "I don't really see any other explanation."

"Do you think we're the same?" Lydia questions.

The blonde shrugs. "No clue. I mean, we were both bitten by Peter. So unless Deaton was right and that the bite activated something already within us, I don't see any reason why we would be."

A shaky breath leaves Lydia's glossed lips and she screws the lid back on the polish bottle. "Fan-fucking-tastic."

Charlotte nudges the girl's leg with her foot. "Hey, we're gonna figure this out. Promise."

Lydia gives her a small smile. "Yeah." She clears her throat, eager to change the topic. "So, what happened with you and Cora?"

Her lips purse. "Well, uh... she kissed me."

Lydia's eyes widen in shock. "Wait, what?" she shrieks. "When?"

"In the hallway, after I ran out after her."

"And? Did you kiss her back?"

Charlotte grimaces. "I pushed her off," she says.

As if she had been expecting the answer, Lydia lightly laughs. "And do you wanna tell me why you did that?" she asks in a playful voice.

Her sister stares at her in exasperation. "You know why."

"Uh huh, and do you want to say it aloud?"

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte struggles to bite back the smile edging its way onto her face. "Because I love her," she whispers.

Lydia arches a brow. "Who? Me? Mom? Cora?"

The grin finally adorns her face. "Allison," she says confidently. "I love Allison."

Lydia giggles in excitement and squeals. "It's about damn time!"

»»———-　　———-««

"Are you sure?"

Charlotte glances to her sister and nods, both wrapping their jackets around their bodies tighter. "I mean, it's worth a try, right?" The girls look up to the high school from the parking lot and take deep breaths before walking up the stairs, hand in hand.

Following the crowds of people making their way across the grounds, the siblings make their way past Jennifer Blake standing outside the auditorium as she greets the attendants for the recital. The woman gives them a small smile, something neither of the twins return. Once they enter inside, Charlotte's eyes quickly find Scott alone standing at the back. As the girls stop beside him, he looks between them both in confusion. "I didn't think you guys were coming," he says.

"Well, originally we weren't," Lydia confirms. She sighs. "But... Scott, I have no idea-" She glances to her sister. "We have no idea why we're the ones that keep finding these bodies."

Charlotte nods. "So maybe if we just stop fighting whatever this is... maybe we'll be able to find them before it happens."

"Maybe it'll give enough time for someone like you to actually do something about it," Lydia adds.

"You get me the time, and I'll do something about it," Scott promises them both determinedly. His eyes flick between the twins and he firmly nods. "I swear to God, I will." Before either of the girls can say anything else, the air drops a few degrees cooler as Tyler joins them. The boy awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as the three glower at him, both Charlotte and Scott considerably angrier. Scott's eyes narrow at his cousin, his voice lowering dangerously. "What are you doing here?"

Tyler sighs. "Can we just ignore the fact that we're on different sides for tonight?" His eyes close briefly when none of their glares falter. "Look, the Darach is all of our problems. And if we can help you guys," he points to Ethan and Aiden seated further up in the crowd, "we will."

Charlotte looks to Scott, and after a few seconds of contemplating her decision, she huffs a sigh. "Fine. Just don't fuck anything up. Because Tyler, if you fuck something up, the Darach will be the least of your worries."

The boy pales before nodding and walking away to join his pack mates in the audience. Scott returns his attention to the pair before him and gives them a small, encouraging smile. "Message me if anything comes up, yeah?"

Charlotte pulls her best friend into a side-hug. "Thanks, Scotty," she whispers in his ear. He smiles and leaves them.

Suddenly, the lights in the building begin to dim, and the conductor to the orchestra is now centre stage. The baton is waved a few times before the stringed instruments come to life, delving into the piece of music that has no doubt been practised dozens of times.

The twins watch the orchestra for a few minutes until Lydia's phone buzzes in the pocket of her jacket. She pulls the device out and her sister leans over to read the message. "Who is it?" she asks quietly.

"Aiden," Lydia replies. She hands her phone over to the girl as she surveys the crowd to try and find said werewolf.

"'Need to see you right now, life or death!'" Charlotte reads aloud in a whisper. "In the middle of the recital? Actually, that's really weird. Why now?" Her eyes narrow as Lydia gently nudges her side, both of them looking where the twins are seated. And as if on cue, Aiden turns around, locks eyes with Lydia and subtly nods at her. "Well, I'm not leaving you," Charlotte declares firmly. "So he's gonna get to see both of us 'right now.'"

Hurrying out the building and over to the main part of the high school, the girls share an uneasy glance with each other before Lydia nods, encouraging her sister to open the double doors. Charlotte's eyes dart around as they warily step inside; she's waiting for something- anything to leap out at her from the shadows.

The door slams shut behind them and Lydia jumps at the loud sound, instantly grabbing onto her sister's hand for some form of comfort. "I don't like this one bit," the blonde mutters. "Why couldn't he just talk to you back there?"

"I'm not sure," Lydia murmurs. "But it better be life or death." The heels to Lydia's platform's click on the floor, the only sound aside from both of their racing hearts thudding within their ears. Their steps slow as they notice the door to a nearby classroom wide open, perhaps where Aiden is waiting.

Wandering cautiously inside the room, Charlotte's the first to notice that it's completely void of anyone but them. Then a loud chanting rings through her ears. With their eyes wide in terror, the twins spin around as they instantly recognise it from the recording found on the music teacher's phone. They don't need to know that the sound isn't good news to know that something awful is about to happen.

"You recognise it, don't you?"

Charlotte's head snaps around to the voice and her jaw falls slack as Jennifer Blake steps out of the shadows she had been concealed in. "It's you?" Charlotte exclaims, Lydia gasping in horror once she catches on to her sister's thought process. So confused by the sudden, terrifying turn of events, neither of the siblings can react fast enough before the Darach lurches toward them. The last thing Charlotte remembers is seeing the chilling smirk on Jennifer's face.

»»———-　　———-««

With a pained moan, Charlotte's eyes slowly flutter open one by one. Her teeth grit as she hisses at the feeling of the warm liquid coating her forehead and raises a finger to gently touch it. When pulling her hand away, she just about groans in frustration at the familiar sight of blood. She's been injured far too many times this year alone. "Lottie?" At Lydia's shaking voice, her eyes widen, now wide awake. She frantically looks around and her breath catches in her throat upon seeing her twin bound in a chair beside her.

"Ah, you're awake."

Charlotte blinks rapidly in attempt to try and clear her blurred vision. It's no use. Crouched down before them, Jennifer Blake smiles as she prepares the garrotte to no doubt be used on them. "What are you doing?" Lydia whispers.

The woman sighs. "What's necessary," she replies. "I'm still surprised none of you seem to get that. You call them 'sacrifices,' but you're not understanding the word."

"Just let Lydia go," Charlotte begs. She viciously bites onto her lip to try and keep herself awake. The pain emerging in her head is blinding. "Do whatever you want with me. J-Just please let her go."

A dry laugh leaves the Darach. "You know I can't do that. You see, 'sacrifices' are derived from the Latin sacrificium, 'an offering to a deity; a sacred rite.' A necessary evil."

"Just stop," Lydia pleads weakly.

Jennifer reaches a hand out to softly trail her fingers down Lydia's cheek. She smiles as the girl flinches. "Oh, I wish I could. But you don't know the Alphas like I do."

With tears running down her cheeks from the sheer amount of pain she's experiencing and the fear that her sister might die, Charlotte stares at the deranged woman before them in desperation. "Please stop."

Glancing between the siblings struggling to stay awake, Jennifer sighs. "But both of you?" she continues, ignoring their quiet pleads. "You aren't sacrifices." She stands up from binding Lydia's hands together with tape, and Charlotte's blood runs ice cold when she picks up the garrotte. "You're just two girls that know too much. Actually..." Jennifer laughs softly. "Girls who knew too much." She walks around to Charlotte's chair and despite Lydia's vocal protests of terror, she wraps the wire around the girl's throat. "And since you asked so nicely, Charlotte, I'll start with you."

Her eyes widen as the cool metal touches her skin, and she gasps when her supply of oxygen is suddenly cut off. Her fingers fly up to try and pry the weapon away from her throat, but it's obvious she's not going to get anywhere. Then, in the midst of everything, an idea springs into her head. Maybe Scott can get to Lydia in time. So Charlotte locks eyes with her sister and they both seem to silently understand one another.

Jennifer's too late when she finally clocks their subtle movements. "No, don't!" Both girls let out ear-shattering screams. The woman drops the garrotte from Charlotte's neck and walks around to look them in their eyes. She scoffs as she stares at them, her eyes flicking briefly over to the blood trickling out of both their ears. "Unbelievable," she whispers. "You have no idea what you are, do you? The Wailing Women."

Slumping back in her chair, Charlotte breathes heavily and manages to murmur, "Banshee."

"Two of you, right before my eyes." Lydia whimpers in fear as Jennifer takes a taunting step toward them again. "You're just like me. Look like the innocent flower but be the serpent underneath it. The sheer power that the two of you alone hold, it's incredible..."

Lydia sobs and pulls at the restraints on her wrist as the Darach grabs the roll of duct tape and walks over to her barely conscious sister, strapping her wrists down to the chair. "N-No, please!" she cries out. "Don't!"

Charlotte gasps for breath when the wire is pulled taut against her throat once more, and she locks eyes with Lydia who can only watch on helplessly. I'm sorry, she tells her silently. Once the knife is brought up to her skin, she forces herself to close her eyes. "One last philosopher," Jennifer mutters.

"Drop it!"

Her eyes snap back open at the voice she knows so well and tears drop as she sees the hazy resemblance of Noah Stilinski standing on the other side of the room, gun raised at the woman holding the twins hostage. The garrotte is dropped to the ground and Charlotte's eyes widen as she desperately inhales. With a sly smile, Jennifer takes a step toward the Sheriff then lets her dagger fly into his chest. Then comes the familiar and, right now, comforting roar of Scott McCall.

With a burst of adrenaline, Charlotte forcefully rips one of her arms out of the duct tape, however, the sound causes Jennifer's head to snap over to her once she's tossed Scott effortlessly aside like a rag doll. She tuts. "Shouldn't have done that." Striding back over to the girl, Jennifer grabs a second knife and violently stabs it into Charlotte's arm.

Another shrill scream leaves her mouth. Charlotte ignores the conversation held by the two adults, solely focused on the sharp weapon sticking out of her body. Sobbing quietly, her eyes fall shut again as she tries to minimise the pain in whatever way she can. Tears streak Lydia's cheeks at the sight and she continues to frantically tug at the restraints binding her arms and legs together. "Hang on okay?" she calls out weakly. "Charlotte, you have to hang on for me."

She nods at her sister's voice growing fainter and fainter by the minute. "Y-yeah, I'm trying," she says quietly.

In the background, there's a loud smash of glass shattering, and Charlotte manages to spot Stiles rush into the room just as Scott's pushing himself up off the floor. "Dad?" Stiles calls out.

But when the boys finally hear Lydia's uncontrollable sobs, they spins around to the sisters. Stiles is quick to untie Lydia, whilst Scott races over to his best friend, his heart dropping in horror as he takes in the state of her. "Charles? We gotta get you to a hospital, stay awake for me," he says firmly as he tears off the tape.

Charlotte takes a deep breath, her head drooping to the side as all the strength within her disappears. "Yeah, yeah, I'm alive," she murmurs. "Is Lydia okay? Where's Allison?"

"Yeah, she's okay," he confirms. "They're both okay." Scott taps her cheek in alarm when he realises her eyes have fallen shut. "Charlotte-"

Then she's engulfed into a void of darkness.

𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘦? 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘰𝘥𝘦... 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴, "𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘶𝘴... 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘴."

𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘺'𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, "𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘶𝘳𝘴" 😭