𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚-𝒔𝒊𝒙 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘖𝘧 𝘈𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 𝘠𝘰𝘥𝘢

A PIERCING SCREAM RINGS THROUGH Charlotte's bedroom as she feels Lydia's grip on her hand tighten to the point where bones could be crushed. Huddled under a blanket fort, the twins stare at the television in fear. "I hate horror movies," Lydia whispers, leaning further into her sister's body as if she could hide her away from the monstrosities on the screen.

Charlotte glances over to her with a giggle but as she returns to the film, her eyes widen in alarm as blood splatters across the screen. "You love them," she murmurs. Before they can focus back onto the movie, Lydia quickly grabs the remote and pauses it, stopping the picture right in the middle of another attempted murder. The blonde-haired girl scoffs and folds her arms over her hoodie. "Dude! I want to know if she dies!"

Lydia rolls her eyes and grins. "We'll go back to it in a second," she reassures her. "I've just been thinking about earlier today and I wanted to ask you something."

She arches a brow. "You mean how we both did a creepy drawing in class?"

The strawberry blonde sighs. "Not that... Allison," she says hesitantly.

Charlotte sets her mug of hot chocolate onto the ground and turns in her spot to fully face the girl. "What about her?"

"Is everything okay with you guys?"

"Yeah, it's good," she confirms.

Lydia crosses her legs and raises her eyebrows. "Good?" she repeats. "Is there maybe, I don't know, anything you wanna talk about?"

Charlotte's eyes squint in confusion. "Why would I wanna talk-"

"Because I saw the way you reacted when you got a message from her." Lydia gives her a small smile at how she stills. "And I've seen the way you look at her," she adds softly.

The girl collapses back onto her pillow. "I don't look at her!" she exclaims defensively. "Well, I look at her, but-" Charlotte groans. "We're just friends!"

"I've also seen how she looks at you. Friends don't look at friends that way."

She sighs in defeat and places a hand over her eyes. She internally thanks Lydia for not pressing the matter any further as they delve into a comfortable silence. After laying together for a minute, Charlotte timidly asks, "How do you know when you're in love?"

Lydia turns onto her side to watch her sister become flustered. She gives her a sad smile. "I'm not the right person to ask that," she whispers.

Charlotte's eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?" she questions. "You loved Jackson."

"I did," Lydia says quietly. As they lock eyes, tears well up in her own. "Just not in the same way that you love her."

»»———-　　———-««

It's Saturday when Charlotte decides to check back in with Alan Deaton. It's a little late, but a late visit is better than no visit. With a heavy sigh, she gets out of her car and begins slowly walking up the path to the clinic. The bell dings as she opens the door, the sound travelling throughout the building to signal her arrival. "Sorry, we're closed!"

The girl raises her brows and follows where the voice had yelled from. In the examination room, Deaton turns around at the sound of her footsteps and she chuckles. "If you're closed, then why was the door open?"

The man sighs in frustration. "Scott must have forgotten to lock it."

Charlotte's jaw clenches at the mere mention of her friend. "He's here?" she asks him, trying to appear as unbothered as possible.

Deaton nods to the small room to the side. "Trying to deal with the cats," he says, his words laced with amusement.

As soon as he finishes his sentence, loud feline screeches and Scott's screams reach their ears. That's what you get when you let a werewolf into a room full of cats. Her brows raise as she stifles a giggle. "I see why you used 'trying,'" she tells the veterinarian. "It sounds like he's dying."

He laughs and folds his arms as he leans against the metal table, waiting for his employee to join them. Suddenly, the door bursts open and Scott stumbles out, breathing heavily. "Holy shit!" he exclaims. "Those things are crazy!" When he finally catches his breath and looks up, his eyes widen in surprise at his best friend standing beside his boss. "Charles? What are you doing here?"

She clears her throat and nods to Deaton. "I was here to talk about the other day," she says. "I found another drawing."

The man's eyebrows draw together in concern. "When?" he asks her.

Charlotte sighs and tries her best to ignore Scott's presence looming in the corner. "About an hour before Lydia and I found the body, it was of the pool. Then the other day before we called you about the music teacher, in class, both of us had drawn a tree."

Scott frowns. "You never told me," he speaks up quietly.

Her eyes narrow to slits as she whirls around to glower at him. "Are you fucking kidding me? You have the nerve to say that?"

Deaton quickly moves forward and positions himself between the pair. He holds a hand up to the werewolf. "Scott, would you mind giving us a moment?" The boy's eyes flick between the adult and his friend, his gaze lingering on her for a few seconds. Scott hesitantly nods and walks out the room. The bell rings as the entrance door slams shut.

"Thanks," she mutters gratefully.

"I take it you two haven't talked?"

She sighs and sits down into one of the waiting chairs. "Nope and I don't want to."

Deaton chuckles quietly. "Charlotte, I've known you for a while now."

She grimaces, preparing herself for the worst. "Oh, lord, what are you gonna say..."

"I can say for certain that you are one of the most mature teenagers I know."

Her eyebrows raise in surprise. "If your plan is to distract me by praising me..." She grins. "It's definitely working."

The veterinarian gestures a hand to where Scott had just walked out. "That boy is stubborn." Charlotte nods; it's not new information to her. "Incredibly intransigent. He won't initiate a conversation. Unless you want to move on without addressing it-"

She huffs a sigh. "I don't."

"I know," he says with a small smile. "Which means that you have to bring it up. He doesn't know how much lying hurt you. I know you, Stiles, and Allison are okay, but that's because you've all talked about it. Scott deserves the same courtesy and respect."

Charlotte sighs and flicks the hair band against her wrist. "Why do you have to always be right?" she mutters in frustration.

The man quietly laughs again. "Now, going back to why you're here. The drawing, it was definitely the same place?"

She nods and pulls out her phone, finding the photograph of the picture she had taken on the night. "Exactly the same," she says, holding the device up to him. "In a really creepy way."

Deaton studies the photo for a minute before looking up to her, his expression unreadable. "Have you had any others like that? The few you mentioned that weren't of the Kanima, they were actual places in Beacon Hills?"

"Yeah." Her lips purse as she tries to remember the locations her previous drawings depicted. "The hospital and the garage."

His eyes widen in realisation. "When Jackson was here- when the Kanima was here... Two bodies were found, the mechanic at the garage and-"

"The wife at the hospital," she finishes slowly. What had hit him a few seconds ago finally dawns upon her. Charlotte's jaw drops. "Oh, my God..."

"Charlotte, you've drawn those pictures before a body was found. The exact places."

Her throat runs dry. "So, in a way, I'm predicting death?" she questions him in a quiet voice.

Deaton nods, his eyes full of concern as he looks at her. "I don't see any other explanation," he says.

The blonde-haired girl stares off into space. "What the fuck am I?" she whispers cluelessly.

The adult opens a drawer and takes out a stack of stapled documents before sitting down next to her. "There are a few possibilities," he begins. "However, just experiencing what appears to be automatic writing isn't enough to give you the definitive answer that I know both you and Lydia want."

She nods in understanding and takes the pile, slowly flicking through the pages, each plastered with information about a different supernatural or mythological creature. "What about the water?" she asks without looking up.

Deaton frowns in confusion. "Water?"

Charlotte sets the documents onto the side table and sighs in irritation. "Shit, I can't believe I forgot... It was the night of our birthday; I had heard this water throughout the day. At first I thought it was just a tap that was leaking, but everything was turned off." The more she talks, the concern becomes apparent on the man's face. "Throughout the night, it got louder and eventually it was like I was standing underneath a waterfall."

His brows furrow as he drifts off into thought. "Water... This was the night of the Sheriff's station?" When she nods in confirmation, Deaton stands up and moves to the counter, rifling through another file of documents in a draw. "Matt," he mutters to himself.

At the name, a tingle instantly appears in her stomach, right where the healed scar of her bullet wound lays. Charlotte swallows the lump in her throat and tries to figure out why the veterinarian had mentioned the name in the first place. Her eyes widen. "He drowned," she states. "Wait, could that be connected?"

He turns around to look at her and nods. "Hearing sounds... In some cases, it can be defined as clairaudience."

"What's that?"

Deaton takes stack of papers off the table beside her and flicks through it until he finds his target. Taking a seat next to her again, he points to the paragraph. "Where you can hear sounds, noises, things that the ordinary human person can't hear," he explains.

She leans her head back against the wall. "So I'm literally insane?"

"No, not insane," he correctly gently. "We will find out what's going on, Charlotte, with you and your sister. Both of you seem to be going through something incredibly similar, if not the same. But just quickly, before I let you go, you said both you and Lydia drew something the other day?"

The girl shakily exhales. "Yeah, it was before we called you and Stiles."

"Have you got it with you by any chance?" he questions curiously.

Charlotte shrugs. "No, sorry, I haven't got a photo either. But they were both sketches of a tree." Her eyebrows pinch together. "Why a damn tree?"

"I'm not too sure," he replies, just as stumped as herself. "However, if it's like the Kanima, you might start find more than one. It is interesting that Lydia is starting to experience this now as well..." He trails off in thought, then his eyes snap back over to hers with a small smile. "Right. I'm sorry I can't give you more of an insight. But still have a read through those papers, I'm hoping that something in there will be able to help explain whatever you're going through."

She gives him a weak smile of gratitude and stands up, holding onto her collection of research. "Thank you, really."

He nods with a smile and waves a hand to the corridor. "Anytime. Now, go and talk to Scott. I have a feeling that everything's going to work out."

As she walks through the clinic, her heart begins to pound against her ribcage. Charlotte nervously wipes her palms on her jeans and takes a large deep breath before opening the door. When she walks outside, she quickly spots Scott sitting on his bike with his eyes down, presumably looking at his phone. The second they lock eyes, her anxiety is washed over by a tsunami of anger. And that anger only multiples tenfold when he waves at her with a smile on his face as he walks toward her. "Hey, how did everything go?" he calls out.

"Didn't listen in? Expected you to," she snaps at him with narrowed eyes. She really doesn't want to do this right now. She just hates that Deaton's right.

Scott's eyes widen slightly, taken aback by her words laced heavily with poison. "No, of course I didn't. Come on, I'm not that disrespectful, Charles."

Charlotte rolls her eyes and folds her arms over her chest as she stares him down. "You want to talk about being disrespectful?"

He frowns. "Look, what's going on?" His lips tug down further when she barks a laugh of disbelief. "I just wanna go back to normal. We haven't had a conversation in over two weeks."

Her voice raises to a yell. She wouldn't be surprised if Deaton was able to hear her from inside. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Scott visibly flinches. "You might be the most oblivious person ever. For being able to sense emotions, you're pretty fucking slow."

The werewolf's brows furrow as his eyes squint slightly. A few seconds later he quietly observes, "You're angry."

Charlotte scoffs and takes a few steps toward him. "You think? Why? Why didn't you tell me?"

His face falls. "Is this about Peter? Charles, I'm sorry, I really am."

The girl stifles a scream and drags a hand down the side of her face. "Bullshit!" she shrieks. "I am so fucking sick of people telling me that they're sorry! Why didn't you at least tell me about Allison's mom?"

Scott's eyes widen in shock. "She told you?"

"It doesn't matter who told me!" Her jaw clenches as they now stand half a metre away from another. "I just don't get why you didn't feel you could trust me. Scott, I thought we were best friends. We're meant to be best friends."

"No we're not," he disagrees.

Charlotte's teeth grit together in a rage. Her eyes momentarily glaze over in a blind rage. "Excuse me?"

He breathes a sigh. "Sister," he says.

Her face falls blank in confusion. "What?"

"Not best friends," he corrects. Scott's eyes soften. "You're my sister."

The surging flames within her irises dull slightly at his words. "Then why didn't you tell me?" she whispers. It feels like she's been ripped in half, completely exposed and vulnerable to the boy before her.

"It wasn't about trust, at all. Because I trust you more than anyone in this whole fucking world." Scott swallows as he drops down onto the steps leading up to the animal clinic. "I-I didn't know how to tell you. Peter... it happened on the night of your party." Silently, she sits beside him and listens. "You had just been shot and I didn't think you needed to deal with the added stress."

Charlotte glances to him. "But Scott, that wasn't your decision to make. You shouldn't have made it for me."

The boy places his head into his hands. "I know," he mutters disappointedly. "I just- I know how much he fucked you up."

"You have no idea," she agrees. "But to be honest, finding out that he's alive wasn't as bad as finding out my best friends had kept it from me for months."

Scott meets her eyes and nods. "I know." He grimaces. "Well, I don't know. I never will. But I know that I fucked up." At her raised brow, he sighs. "We all fucked up."

"Big time."

He weakly chuckles. "Understatement of the year. And Allison, that's a bit different. Derek bit Victoria because he was trying to save me."

Charlotte hums. "Yeah, I know that part." She licks her lips as she turns to him. "Scott, you almost died. A part of the best friend code is to be aware when your best friend almost dies."

"I just felt that if I told you, you would have told Allison and-"

She sighs and cuts him off. "That would have been her last memory," she finishes. "Yeah, I'm starting to understand that."

He nods. "Look, I know how angry you are," he says. "I can literally feel it. Just tell me what I can do, Lottie, I want us back to normal."

And that's when she finally notices the tears that have been running down her cheeks. She's thankful that he didn't bring it up. "Fucking hell. You're a piece of work," she mutters under her breath. Before he can come up with a reply, she leans over and brings him into a hug. Scott softly smiles and returns the embrace, both teenagers clutching onto each other. "You can buy me a house in Hawaii," she answers.

The boy snorts. "I can't even afford a new phone," he says dryly.

"Chocolate bar?"

"That's a big step down..."

"Do you want to be forgiven or not?"

»»———-　　———-««

Three days later, Charlotte sits in the back of the bright yellow bus, more like lies down. Stiles glances behind him from the row in front of her and chuckles at the sight. "Do you seriously have to take up the entire back bench?"

She moves her eyes over to him from her iPad and stares at him. "Stiles, in this last hour I've probably burnt around one-hundred calories."

His eyes narrow and gestures to their surroundings. "You've been sitting down," he points out slowly.

The blonde nods. "Exactly. I'm going to burn one-hundred calories no matter what, so I might as well do it with multiple seats providing maximum comfort." Charlotte giggles at the exasperation on his face and returns to her book. "Okay, McCall," she calls out. "You're up." But at the silence she receives, she pushes herself to sit up and raises her brows at Scott staring out the window as if he hadn't heard her. "Uh, Scotty?"

Stiles frowns and clicks his fingers in front of their best friend's face. "Yo, Scotty! Still with us?"

Scott quickly blinks and nods, turning his head to them. "Yeah, sorry," he mumbles. "Um, what's the word?"

Charlotte glances back down to the screen and purses her lips. "Give me a second, I'll pick a different one."

"No, I can get it," Scott protests.

Stiles leans over the seat to take a glimpse at exactly what Scott will have to answer, and he and the girl share a look of amusement. Charlotte clears her throat. "Oh, totally, of course you can," she muses. "Scott McCall, your word is... 'Anachronism.'"

"Something that exists out of its normal time."

Her eyes narrow and her head snaps back down to the device. She slowly looks back to the boys, her jaw slack in shock. "Holy shit," she whispers.

Stiles scans over the page once more. "Did he get it right?" he questions her.

"He did," she confirms. Charlotte tilts her head to the side as she studies the werewolf. "How the fuck did you know that?"

Scott rolls his eyes in exasperation. "I've been studying," he replies simply. "Next word."

"'Incongruous.'"

"Um, can you use it in a sentence?"

She chuckles and raises her brows to Stiles. "Wanna do it?" she offers, holding out the iPad for him.

"I absolutely can." Stiles clears his throat and shakes his head as if he's preparing himself to present a speech at the Oscars. "It's completely incongruous that we're sitting on a bus right now, on our way to some stupid cross country meet after what just happened. Incongruous."

She nods approvingly and the pair fist bump. Scott's eyes narrow in thought. "Out of place," he says. "Ridiculous, absurd."

"You made that way too easy for him," she scolds Stiles. He scoffs. "Okay, next word!" Charlotte cautiously looks back over to Scott from the tablet. "Darach." His head snaps over to her as he tears his eyes off the window and she shifts under his glare. "It's a noun. Derived from the Irish language..."

Stiles sighs at his silence. "Scott, we have to talk about it sometime, okay?"

"Exactly, we can't keep ignoring it," she adds pointedly. "We are literally stuck together for another five to six hours. Something to tick off the 'To Do List'..."

"She's right," the Stilinski agrees. "Why not?" Stiles narrows his eyes in annoyance when Scott turns away from him to stare out the window again. He glances back to Charlotte and they both share a look of irritation.

"Scott-"

"We're not talking about it," Scott snaps.

Her eyes widen. "Jesus, I was just asking a question," she mutters. "How are you not murdered every hour?" Stiles snorts. As much as the boy under the limelight tries to supress it, a smile spreads onto Scott's face. Charlotte claps her hands together with pride. "Hey, I made him smile! That's the first time all day!"

Stiles chuckles at her excitement and takes the iPad from her once more. "Okay! Next word, 'Intransigent.' This one's easy, Scott, it's probably the main word I would use to describe you." The girl snickers.

"Um..." Scott's eyes light up. "Stubborn, obstinate." Then his face falls as he registers the second half of Stiles' words. "Hold on a second-" But his sentence is cut off as the bus drives over something, causing the vehicle to rattle. Charlotte grabs onto the back of Scott and Stiles' seat to stop herself from falling off the bench.

"Oh, buddy, you okay?" Her attention moves back to the boys as she watches Stiles look at Scott in concern. Even though the werewolf nods, his face is scrunched up in a wince, his eyes screwed shut as he clutches onto his stomach. Stiles sighs. "We shouldn't have come," he declares.

"Obviously we shouldn't have come!" Charlotte says firmly. "If you had listened to me, which you never do by the way, we could be-"

"We had to," Scott interrupts her quietly. "There's safety in numbers."

"There's also death in numbers," she points out. "Like, lots of death. It's commonly referred to as a massacre."

"Or bloodbath," Stiles adds.

"Carnage..."

"Slaughter."

"Butchery or execution."

Stiles grimaces. "Wow, this is getting gruesome," he mutters. Charlotte leans her chin on the top of their seats and both herself and Stiles sigh when Scott groans. "Oh, for fuck's sake, let me just go tell Coach," Stiles says. "This is ridiculous."

"No! No, no, no, no. I'm all right."

The girl stares at him. "And I'm a motherfucking unicorn," she deadpans.

"Would you just let me see it?" Stiles questions, moving to lift up his shirt, only for his hand to be slapped away.

"I'm okay," Scott repeats.

"Would you let me see it?" After giving her a brief look, Scott nods. As he lifts his shirt up, exposing the wounded area, his friends stare in horror at the three large claw marks that slash his skin, dried blood caked around each of the injuries. Charlotte's eyes widen in shock. "Oh, my God, Scott-"

"I know it's bad but it's because they're from an Alpha," the boy tries to reassure them. It does little to nothing. "It'll take longer to heal..."

Stiles and Charlotte look to one another, then the former points to Isaac and Boyd who are seated further up the bus. "How come they're fine then?" he retorts.

The girl nods in agreement. "Scott, I'm not a supernatural expert, but even from an Alpha you should have at least started to heal. Those look exactly the same as they did yesterday."

Scott heaves a sigh and leans his head against the window. "I just-I can't believe he's dead," he whispers. "I can't believe Derek's dead."

An hour passes with her in a zone of concentration and focus. Charlotte continues to read the textbook she had brought along, purposefully ignoring Stiles' piercing stare. After another minute of silence, she finally lifts her head to look at him impatiently. "What?"

He shrugs. "Oh, I was just thinking how well you're taking Derek's... demise."

"Look, I know I wasn't there to see it but he's not dead," she says matter-of-factly. Stiles' eyebrows raise. "It's Derek, he's like a cockroach. The guy has had so many near death experiences it's actually getting ridiculous."

With the frown still etched onto his face, Scott winces as he turns in his seat to look at her. "I saw him fall, him and Ennis. There's no way he could have survived it."

"Did anyone actually go and check their heartbeats?" When Scott doesn't respond, Charlotte wildly gestures her hands. "There you go! Angry Yoda isn't dead. There's no way."

"The two of you!" Coach yells in frustration to a pair of teenagers up front. "Back in your seats. Jared, again? Car sick? Every time- How do you even get on the bus? Look at me! No, don't look at me. Look at the horizon. Keep your eyes- keep your eyes on the horizon!" The man's eyes find Scott's pained expression and he groans. "McCall, not you too!"

Scott weakly lifts his head up. "No, Coach, I'm good!"

Charlotte hums. "And the Emmy goes to..."

Stiles chuckles, however, it quickly fades once he looks back down to Scott's shirt. His eyes widen at the stained red peeking through his jacket. "Shit, dude, you're bleeding again," he informs the boy quietly. "And don't tell me that it's just taking longer to heal, okay? Because I'm pretty sure that 'still bleeding' means 'not healing', like, at all. Right Charles?"

She nods. "Oh yeah. The amount of blood you've lost, you should be dead." She frowns. "Really dead."

"He's listening," Scott suddenly says. His friends follow his line of sight and sigh.

Charlotte's eyes narrow at Ethan whose head is turned slightly to the side in their direction. "Ethan," she mutters. "I swear to fucking Satan if you even think about trying anything, I will carve your canines from your dead body and give them to Danny as a necklace for a birthday present." When he nervously gulps and returns to his phone, she triumphantly grins.

Stiles shakes his head with a quiet laugh. "Only you would threaten an Alpha."

"Nah, don't be shy. You've done it before." Her smile disappears as she leans over to Scott, dropping her voice to a whisper. "Do you reckon he'll actually do anything though?"

"Not in front of this many people," the McCall replies.

Stiles' eyes flick around the bus and he nods his head over to Isaac and Boyd further up ahead. "Okay, well, what about the two ticking time bombs sitting right near him?"

"They won't," Charlotte answers confidently.

Scott nods. "Same as Ethan. Not in front of this many people."

"Okay, well, what if they do?" Stiles asks him. "Are you gonna stop them?"

Scott nods. "If I have to."

The girl rolls her eyes. "They won't because they know they'd have me to deal with." Boyd turns his head so his cheek is shown and she sees the corners of his lips upturn. "Yeah, that's right. I can kick all your asses now."

"What?" Scott questions her with his brows furrowed.

She grins. "Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you. Chris and Allison have been giving me hunter training." When her best friends' eyes widen in alarm, she quickly shakes her head and recollects her words. "Shit! Not hunter training, just training," she clarifies. "Meaning, I know how to fight. As in, I could easily take you down."

Stiles looks between Charlotte and Scott with narrowed eyes. When the werewolf nudges his arm with a pointed look on his face, Stiles turns back to the blonde and clicks his tongue. "Nah, my money's on her."

"Hear that Scotty?" However, she can't finish her sentence, bursting into fits of laughter at the offence on Scott's face. Stiles soon follows.

"Martin! Stilinski! Shut it!"

»»———-　　———-««

"Have you talked to Tyler recently?"

Scott presses his hands against the bleeding wound and nods at the girl. "Yeah," he confirms. "He came round for dinner on Sunday."

Stiles narrows his eyes as they watch said teenager stand up from his place in the front of the bus and take Danny's currently unoccupied seat next to Ethan. "When did they become all friendly?" he asks in confusion.

Charlotte's eyebrows knit together as she watches her friend and one of her many arch-nemeses converse. "No clue," she answers. "I didn't even know they knew each other."

Stiles slowly nods. "It's a bit of a coincidence, you know, both of them showing up at the same time..."

Scott shakes his head as he looks at Stiles in slight disbelief. "What are you saying? That my cousin is part of the Alpha pack just because he's talking to Ethan?"

The Stilinski quickly glances to Charlotte who only arches a brow at him. He sighs. "No, I'm not saying that. I just... It's been years since we last saw Tyler, we don't know how much he's changed. Just- It's probably not a good thing if he's talking with him."

"He would tell me," she points out.

Stiles turns back to her. "Have you told him about all of," he gestures to himself, her, and Scott, "this?" When her eyes flick down to the ground, he emphatically nods his head. "Point made. Who knows what he could be lying about?"

"But if he's part of their pack, he would have been there with all of us yesterday at the mall," Scott says with frown.

Stiles takes his eyes off his friend and stares at the back of Tyler's head. "Can you hear what they're saying?" he asks the werewolf.

Scott nods and his lips purse in concentration. After a minute, he sighs in defeat. "Nothing," he mutters in disappointment.

Charlotte frowns in sympathy and gently places a hand on his shoulder. "It's probably got something to do with your scratches, you're not healing, so it's effecting everything else."

As she looks back up to Tyler who has now returned to his seat up near Coach, her eyes widen once they lock onto Boyd. She sucks in a sharp breath and shakes both of the boys' shoulders. Stiles flips around in question. "What?"

"Boyd," she mutters in alarm. "His hands." The trio look to the boy and see his fist clench as he places his hand on the seat in front, his claws deeply penetrating the leather. As Scott shifts to stand up, she touches his arm again. "No, let me do it. You're barely conscious."

Scott gives her a weak smile. "Thanks."

Charlotte scrambles up and hurries down the narrow walkway. As soon as she reaches the pair, she firmly puts a firm hand on Boyd's shoulder, the teenager's head snapping up to her. She crouches down and hisses, "Boyd, cut it out."

Isaac's eyes widen when he notices his friend's claws. "Shit, Boyd, not now," he mumbles.

The boy's eyes glow golden at her and he growls. In response she rolls her eyes. "Very childish," she comments. When Boyd looks over her shoulder to Ethan, she sighs and clicks her fingers in front of his face. "What's your plan, huh? Kill him? Okay, go. Be my guest." Isaac's eyes widen once more. "But if you kill Ethan, then you've got a whole bus of students, Coach and the driver, who saw you do it. So then you're gonna have to kill all them too. Then you'll have to drive the bus to the middle of nowhere, dispense the bodies, probably light them all on fire is my suggestion, it's the best way to remove DNA and evidence." Charlotte continues counting off each step with her fingers. "Then you have the problem of getting a ride out of the middle of nowhere, then having to deal with the crushing guilt afterward."

Boyd stares at her, his eyes occasionally flicking to Ethan. "Does Scott have a plan?"

She chuckles. "The fuck do you think?"

Isaac rolls his eyes. "Do you have a plan?"

"Not yet," she says. "Though it's definitely not going to include killing anyone, aside from Peter. Obviously."

After a few seconds pondering over his decisions, Boyd nods. "Okay," he agrees.

"Is Scott okay?" Isaac asks quietly. "I can smell blood."

She grimly shakes her head. "No, he's still bleeding," she whispers. She watches them share a look in alarm. "You guys have definitely fully healed?"

"Yeah, we're okay," the curly-haired boy replies.

"Something's not right. Maybe it's psychological?" Both of her friends frown at her muttering and she looks up to them. "Sorry. I'll keep you updated, you going to be okay?" They both nod again and she gently smiles. "Don't kill anyone."

As she slips back into the back bench, Stiles turns around with his brows raised. "Crisis averted?"

She sighs. "Hopefully."

"Okay, good. 'Cause we got another problem."

Charlotte groans and covers her eyes with her hand, refusing to look up at them. "No. No more problems."

"Ethan keeps checking his phone," Stiles says. "Like, every five minutes."

"So?"

Despite her protests, he pushes her aside to fit into bench beside her. "So, it's like he's waiting for something."

She peeks an eye open. "Or someone," she corrects.

Stiles' face lights up. "Exactly! Maybe like a message or a signal of some kind, something very evil though. I have an extremely perceptive eye for evil, you know that."

She chuckles. "Oh, we know."

Having listened to the conversation, Scott adds, "I don't like him sitting with Danny."

"Neither," Charlotte agrees. As Stiles pulls his phone out of his pocket, she huffs a sigh. "God... What are you doing now?"

"I'm gonna ask him."

The trio watch Danny glimpse at his phone, assumedly reading the message just sent to him. Confirming her suspicion, Danny turns around and raises his brows at Stiles, shaking his head and mouthing, No. Charlotte giggles as she watches Stiles ignore the response and continue to impatiently send messages through. Danny ignores each one despite the ping leaving his phone each time a notification comes through. When both Ethan and Danny suddenly spin around, Stiles and Scott slide down their seats in an attempt to try and hide from eyesight.

Charlotte snorts and waves at the pair watching. Once Danny and Ethan return to facing the front, she sighs. "Very subtle," she praises her friends. Then she takes out her own phone and starts to type a message.

Stiles shuffles over to her to look at the screen. "What are you doing?"

"He was never going to do anything for you." Scott laughs at how confident she sounds. An agonising few minutes later, her phone vibrates as a reply from Danny comes through. The boys look at her expectantly and she reads the text out. "'Someone close to him is sick. Might not make it through the night. Tell Stiles to stop being an idi-'" She tuts. "Ah, that's for me."

Stiles scoffs. "He was the one being an idiot! If he had just responded to me-"

Scott ignores him and looks to the girl to suggest, "Ennis?"

She shrugs. "Could be."

Stiles' eyes squint. "Okay, so does that mean, uh..."

"He's not dead," Scott says in bewilderment.

Charlotte slowly nods. "Not yet anyways."

𝘸𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘢 𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘯 🥹 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 🫶