𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒚-𝒐𝒏𝒆 | 𝔀𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝔂'𝓼 𝓸𝓿𝓮𝓻

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘒𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘮𝘢

"SO, WHAT DID YOU DO this time?"

Stiles rolls his eyes at her assumption. "I didn't do anything," he quickly protests. "It was Erica!"

Charlotte's brows furrow. "Erica did...?"

"She broke my fucking Jeep!" the boy exclaims heatedly.

She sighs and turns the engine off. The pair exit her car and walk toward the entrance of the garage that apparently stores her best friend's beloved. "As in, she took a part, or fully broke it?"

"Just a part," he mutters.

She hums and holds the door open for him. "Huh."

But as soon as the boy lays eyes inside the building, he loudly gasps and races over to the mechanic working on his car. "Hey. Hey! What do you think you're doing? All I needed was a starter."

Charlotte nudges his side. "What's a starter?" she whispers in confusion.

"Yeah, but it looks like your whole exhaust system has gotta be replaced here," Tucker, the mechanic, informs him.

Now, Charlotte doesn't know much about cars, but she doesn't have to be a genius to know that the exhaust system sounds important. "I thought she only took a part?" she points out.

Stiles' eyes narrow at the man. "Yeah, why do I get the feeling you're slightly overestimating the damage?"

"Probably will run you around twelve-hundred parts and labour."

Her eyes widen incredulously. "For a missing part?"

The boy vigorously nods. "What she said! This thing does have a catalytic converter. And yes! I know what a catalytic converter is."

She glances between the two males. "What's that?"

Tucker finally pauses his work on the car to impatiently look at his customer. "Do you know what a 'limited slip differential' is?"

Stiles grimaces. "No..."

Charlotte scoffs when her friend's eyes land on her. "Don't look at me! I'm only here because I'm your chauffeur."

Tucker rolls his eyes as he returns to the blue Jeep. "Yeah, it's coming on more like fifteen-hundred," he says bluntly.

Stiles huffs. "Okay! Just finish. I'll be back here, seething with impotent rage!"

Dragging Charlotte with him, she frowns and longingly looks back to her car visible through a window. "Why can't we leave?" she complains.

"Because now I know that he's overcharging me, I don't trust him to be alone with my car!"

She raises an eyebrow. "Stiles, how do you know he's overcharging you if you don't even know what he's overcharging you for?"

"Good point," he grumbles.

Charlotte goes to open the door to the office, but quickly recoils back in disgust at the sticky feeling on the handle. "Ew!" she shrieks, shaking her hand vigorously to rid the substance off her skin. "This is so unsanitary!"

Stiles rolls his eyes and pushes past her to open the door. "See? Not that bad." He lets her go in first and smiles at her scowl.

As soon as she feels something graze her back, she spins around to find her best friend wiping his hand on her hoodie. "Dude! What the fuck?" She frowns. "This is my favourite jumper..."

"You made me open it."

She looks at him with exasperation. "You pushed past me," she deadpans. The girl huffs a sigh at his grin. "Whatever, I'll bill you for a new one." Charlotte falls onto the couch and watches Stiles walk around the room, looking at different photos on the wall.

"Of course he was lacrosse captain," the boy mutters with a scoff. She gets another twenty seconds of silence before Stiles speaks up again. "Charlie?"

She gives him a thumbs up, refusing to open her eyes. "Yeah, bro?"

"Something's wrong with my hand."

Her lips purse. "Did you break it?"

"No, I can't move it."

"Wait, what?" When a phone clatters to the ground, her eyes snap open and she jumps up off the couch in concern. "Stiles?"

He looks to her with wide eyes of terror. "I can't move my hands," he whispers anxiously.

And sure enough when she approaches him, both his hands are uncontrollably shaking. Charlotte's heart beats faster. "Okay, come sit down with me for a few minutes then I'll drive you home, yeah?" But when he doesn't respond, the pace of her heart increases. "Hey, Stiles?"

He dryly swallows and nods his head over to the single window in the office overlooking the garage. "On top of the Jeep," he says quietly.

It takes her a little while to find what he's looking at in the dim lighting, but once she does, Charlotte feels like she's going to faint. "What the fuck is that?" she quietly shrieks. Whatever is on his car isn't human. It can't be.

"Hey!" Stiles calls out to Tucker, trying to get his attention and warn him. The teenagers freeze in fear when the mechanic falls to the ground. Charlotte just notices something touch the back of his neck.

But when there's a thud beside her, her attention is brought back to her best friend. Her eyes widen at Stiles now collapsed on the ground. She rushes over to him and crouches beside him, her eyes darting over his body as she tries to find a visible injury. Something must have caused this. "Hey, what happened?" she urgently asks him. "Stiles?"

"Nine-one-one," he says quickly. "You need to call the Sheriff's station; I can't move my hands. That guy is gonna die." Frantically nodding, she grabs her phone and dials the number. Of course now is the time she's put on hold to the dispatcher.

"Help! Help me!"

Charlotte's eyes dart from Stiles to Tucker outside. She taps her fingers impatiently on her jeans as she waits for the call to connect and jumps back in alarm when a sudden screech echoes through the building. Both teenagers look through the glass door at what had created the sound. It's a creature of some sort, with dark, shimmering scales for skin, and a long tail trailing behind it. The yellow reptilian like eyes bore into Charlotte's and she shivers. It reminds her of the other day when Allison and Scott had said they'd seen something somewhat resembling a giant reptile at the Lahey's house. If this doesn't look like a giant reptile, she isn't sure what is.

"Almost there, hang on, Stiles."

"Nine-one-one, what's your emergency?"

»»———-　　———-««

Stiles cradles one of his trembling hands to hide it from his father. "Dad, I told you. We walked in and saw the Jeep on top of the guy. That's all." Charlotte's eyes flick between her best friend and his dad. Her gaze falls onto Stiles hands. She meets his eyes and gives him the smallest of nods. For whatever reason, he didn't want Noah Stilinski to know. She thinks it might possibly have something to do with what they had seen.

"And you saw the same?"

She nods. "Yeah, Sheriff. It crushed him."

The man finally notices his son's injury. "What's wrong with your hand?"

Charlotte frowns when Stiles shakes it. From his almost inaudible sigh, she can tell he still can't feel it. "Nothing," he dismisses. "Can we leave? Please?"

Noah's eyebrows furrow in concern for the pair. "Look, if there's something you don't think you can tell me-"

"You think I'm lying?" Stiles interrupts. "That both of us are lying?"

"No! Of course not, I'm just worried about you." He turns to the girl and adds, "About both of you. Look, if you saw someone do this, if you're afraid that maybe they're gonna come back and make sure you don't say anything about it-"

She's known Stiles for a long time. And she knows when the right time is for her to step in and speak for him. Now is one of those times. "Sheriff, we didn't see anything," she tells his father. "Is it okay to leave?"

"Please?" the boy adds.

Stilinski hesitantly nods and points to the garage. "Sure... But not your Jeep, we're going have to impound it." His eyes fill with sympathy at his son's disappointment. "Sorry, kid, evidence."

Stiles' eyes widen and Charlotte pats his shoulder then points to her car. "I'll drive you."

"Fine. Fine! At least make sure they wash it!" Once his dad is completely out of earshot, Stiles turns to his best friend and sighs. "What the fuck did we just see?"

"Giant, creepy, scaly thing." Charlotte frowns and picks up his hand, now getting the chance to scrutinise it closer. It's still trembling. But there's no cut, scrape, or any visible injury. "How's your hand?"

"I can feel it now," he answers in relief. "Well, better than it was. It's like I was temporarily paralysed." He gnaws on his lip. "A few minutes after we entered the room, first it was my hand, then... I couldn't move. I couldn't move anything."

"Have you done anything out of the ordinary? Taken drugs?"

"Seriously? Drugs?"

"Just checking."

They had called Scott straight after the Sheriff's department, giving him a brief rundown of what had happened. It was like a second instinct when the supernatural was involved in things. It's not like the boy would know what they'd just seen in the garage, but being a werewolf, he was a comfort to the two humans.

After locking eyes with the boy in the shadows and wildly gesturing for him to join them, Scott slips into the back seat of her car. Stiles sighs and turns around to look at his best friend. "You were right; you and Allison. It's not like you. It's eyes..."

Charlotte grimaces. "It looked like it wanted to kill us."

"Yeah. Scott, the eyes... It looked reptilian."

"Yeah, it's a giant fucking lizard."

Scott's brows furrow. "What do you mean?" he questions in confusion

Charlotte looks outside to see Tucker's lifeless body being wheeled onto the ambulance on a gurney. "It's like a masquerade ball," she begins. "Not that we've ever been to one, but you know what I mean. You can't see their face, but you know who they are, just by looking at their eyes."

Stiles nods. "Yeah, yeah. It's like, you feel like you know them but you just can't figure out who it is." He frowns.

Scott's eyes widen slightly. "Are you saying you guys know who it is?"

Her lips purse. "Well, it looks like a lizard, and the only scaly reptile I can think of is Whittewhore. So, I'm saying right here and now that it's Jackson. I know for a fact he wants to kill me, and eighty percent of the time he wants to kill both of you."

Stiles huffs a sigh. "What I'm trying to say-"

"We," she corrects.

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. "You don't even know what I'm going to say!" he exclaims. Scott stifles his laughter. "What I mean is that I think it knew us."

"I'm calling it!" Charlotte states confidently. "It's definitely wolf wannabe!"

"Okay, Martin," Stiles says. "I'll bet on it." She grins and holds a hand out to the boy. He hesitates for a second then shakes it firmly. "If we find out Jackson is some evil killing machine, I'll give you a hundred bucks."

Her eyes narrow. "Make it two-hundred."

"He doesn't have two-hundred," Scott interrupts.

The girl's head slowly turns to her friend in the back. "But you do," she points out with a snicker.

"I have two-hundred!" Stiles quickly exclaims. "Okay? I'll bet you two-hundred."

She grins. "Deal."

»»———-　　———-««

Charlotte holds the folder of black and white sketches that she had collected over the last week. They're all various reptiles. Some hold eyes with the signature slitted pupil, and others are of detailed patches of scales. But what concerns the girl the most is that her sudden drawings relate to the supernatural creature that had killed the mechanic she and Stiles had seen at the garage. "This is what I mean when I say drawings," she says quietly.

Marin Morrell frowns and takes the folder off the girl. Her eyes meet hers as she asks for permission, and when receiving a nod, she begins to flip through the pages. "And you don't remember doing any of these?"

She fiddles with her bracelet. "No, none of them," she replies.

The guidance counsellor closes the file. "I noticed there's a theme of reptiles," she points out. "Do you know why you're drawing lizards?"

Dragging a hand down the side of her face, Charlotte groans in frustration. "No! I don't even know I'm doing them until someone interrupts me or the next day when I see the fucking piece of paper!" She looks at the dark-haired woman desperately. "Am I going crazy? Am I crazy? Tell me I'm not crazy."

Marin smiles at her. "Charlotte, you're not crazy." The girl heaves a sigh of relief. "And no, I'm not saying that because you asked me to. How long have you been seeing me?"

"Three years."

"And I've been doing this a lot longer. I've seen a lot of clinically insane people in my time. You're not one of them. I'm not sure where to start with how to explain the drawings, but I do know that you've gone through a lot of trauma in the last month."

The room is quiet for a minute. "I'm seeing things," she suddenly blurts out. "The man that attacked Lydia and I."

Morrell clasps her hands together and rests them on the desk. "What do you mean?" she asks in concern.

"I'm seeing him appear out of nowhere," she answers, clearing shaken by the memories. "The other day, he was in the middle of the road."

The counsellor frowns. "Hallucinations can be a symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. They could also be a part of your anxiety-"

"Ms Morrell, I don't need a list of the problems I've got," Charlotte interrupts glumly. "We'd be here forever."

Marin chuckles and glances at the clock on the wall before sighing. "Okay, it seems that our time's up. Give me a little while to think about the drawings." She gestures to the folder. "Do you mind if I keep them until our next session?"

Eyeing her pieces of art, she tentatively nods. "Yeah, okay."

Standing up to open the door, the woman places a hand on her patient's shoulder. "Ça ira, Charlotte. Je te verrai vendredi?"

Charlotte returns the small smile. "Oui, merci."

"Ma porte est toujours ouverte."

"Thanks, Ms Morrell."

"Anytime. Lydia? When you're ready, come on in."

Walking out the door, she passes by her sister who looks just as reluctant to see the counsellor as Charlotte had been all those years ago. "It's just half an hour, Lyds. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. She's just there if you need her."

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Uh huh. Yeah, I'll go unload our supernatural drama on her."

"You might need a few days for that." Thankfully, she manages to draw a smile out of the strawberry blonde. As she watches Lydia walk into the office, she feels a pair of eyes on her and turns to the waiting chairs. Her eyebrows raise. "Yeah, no. Turn your pervy eyes somewhere else."

The boy with soft brown hair looks to be her age. He chuckles. "Sorry."

Her eyes narrow as she scrutinises him. "Do I know you?" she asks. "I feel like I've seen you before."

He arches a brow. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

"Absolutely not," she retorts bluntly. His eyes widen in amusement. "And stay the fuck away from my sister. I don't like you."

Derek had killed Peter. That's what they had told her. That's what Allison, Scott, and Stiles had told her. And Derek even had the scarlet eyes of an Alpha to prove it. Over the past few years, there had been moments where Charlotte had thought that she was insane. She hadn't known anyone else apart from her sister that openly struggled with their mental health. But that's different, they're siblings.

After feeling a certain way for so long, you start to feel like it's normal because you can't think of the last time that you didn't feel this way. However, once getting to know more and more people that didn't feel the same way she did, Charlotte genuinely started to believe that she was crazy for feeling the way she did. It's like living on a street where every single person likes chocolate except for you. You feel like the odd one out, like you're 'weird' for not liking chocolate.

Countless therapy sessions and finally meeting someone who did feel something similar to her made Charlotte begin to realise that she wasn't crazy for having panic attacks; that she wasn't crazy for occasionally having those dark, intrusive thoughts. She was told that what she was experiencing wasn't normal per say, but she also wasn't psychotic or insane. After all, one isn't in control of how the chemicals in their brain work. However, after the traumatic events that occurred over the las month, Charlotte has enough self-awareness to acknowledge that she's beginning to spiral once again. She knows one thing for sure. Peter Hale really, really fucking sucks.

»»———-　　———-««

"How was Morrell?"

Charlotte turns to the girl sitting beside her on a bench outside the high school, and she sighs while grabbing a pack of gum out of her bag. She hands one to Allison who gratefully takes it and pops it into her mouth. "Eh. The usual stuff," she replies. She lies down on the bench and blows a bubble as she stares up at the sky to make shapes within the clouds.

Aside from Morrell, Charlotte had decided not to tell people about her drawings, including Lydia, at least until she had some sort of understanding of why they were suddenly happening. Plus, they had more pressing matters to deal with currently, like the giant lizard. She doesn't want her friends to look at her and think she should be locked up in Eichen House.

"Do you want to come over after school? We can watch Harry Potter?"

Charlotte's eyes widen and she locks eyes with the girl upside down. "But you hate Harry Potter," she points out sceptically.

Allison nods. "And that proves just how much I love you."

She grins. "Sold! But as long as we get-"

"Hi! So, Scott says he loves you too."

Charlotte pushes herself to sit up at the boy who has abruptly joined them. Stiles bends over his knees as he breathes heavily, clearly having sprinted for a reasonable distance. "Woah, what's happening here?" she questions in confusion.

His eyes narrow at Allison. "These two idiots have decided to make me their messenger pigeon."

"Ah." Charlotte looks to the girl and points to her phone. "Why don't you just message him?"

"My parents are checking everything: call, email, text – everything."

Stiles runs his hand over his buzzed hair and huffs a large sigh. "Hi, Charles," he breathes. "How was the psych?"

"Fine," she dismisses quickly. The boy frowns. "So Alli says Deaton knows? About everything?"

He hums. "Oh, yeah. Uh huh. Apparently he's a super veterinarian. He helped Scott heal after Derek attacked him at the ice rink... You know, after we told him not to go to save Boyd etcetera?"

Her jaw drops. She's appalled that Derek had gone past his usual empty threats and actually hurt Scott. She's also speechless by the fact that her best friend's boss is aware of the supernatural. "Woah," she whispers. Allison and Stiles grin. "Deats just got even cooler..."

"Okay, so Deaton thinks that your family keeps some kind of book with records of all the things they've hunted," Stiles tells the brunette.

Charlotte's eyebrows furrow. "A bestiary?"

He sighs in relief. "Thank you. Finally, someone who knows what I'm talking about."

Allison's eyes flick between them as she giggles. "No, I think you mean bestiality..."

Stiles stares at her with exasperation. The blonde-haired girl rolls her eyes. "God... No, a bestiary," she corrects. "It's like a huge dictionary for supernatural creatures."

"Exactly!" Stiles exclaims loudly. "Thank you! And I really don't want to know what's going on in your head," he deadpans to Allison. "Same as Scott..."

"Of course he thought the same." Popping another bubble with her gum, Charlotte sits up and crosses her arms on the wooden table. "What's the point of this conversation?"

"Getting to that."

Allison clears her throat as she recenters herself. "Okay, can you describe it?" she asks the boy.

"It's probably like a book; old, worn..." Stiles replies, reciting what Scott had told him minutes earlier.

The Argent's brows are creased with concentration. Her eyes widen. "Like, bound in leather?"

"Yes!" Stiles nods and darts back off with the news to pass it onto the werewolf.

Charlotte snickers. "This is fucking hilarious! You know, you could just get Scott over here and talk?"

Allison looks over to the blonde and takes a long sip of her water. "Gerard's here, he'd somehow be watching," she points out.

"I know, and even if he wasn't, this is so much better than talking in person. Whatever you do, just keep sending him back to Scott."

She chuckles. "Really?"

"Yes, really." But before the brunette can say anything else, Stiles collapses back onto the bench, breathing heavily. "Holy shit!" Charlotte yells in surprise. "Dude, you can run fast!"

"Shut... up... Where... does... he... keep it?"

Allison frowns. "I mean, I guess it has to be somewhere in his office."

"Home? Or school?"

"I'm guessing here, he probably thinks it's safer." Stiles takes a deep breath and nods before pushing off the bench and sprinting back into the school.

The girls lock eyes and burst out laughing, nearby heads turning their way. "So do you want me to bring anything tonight?" Charlotte asks with a giggle. 

"Ice-cream?" Allison suggests.

She grins and flips her hair over her shoulder. "You know me so well," she praises. "Should I sneak in a bottle of Mom's wine?"

"Yes, God yes."

"Asks... can... you... get... book..." Stiles takes a long puff of his inhaler and spends the next thirty seconds wheezing.

Charlotte raises a brow in amusement. "You okay there, bud?"

"Oh, fantastic," he responds dryly.

Allison turns to her best friend with an apologetic smile. "Raincheck?"

"Yeah, all good," she agrees. "I can come with you tonight if you want? Emotional support against the psychotic grandfather?"

The brunette quickly nods at her with a small smile, but their attention is brought back to Stiles who dramatically clears his throat. "Oh! Sorry, tell him that I can't get it without his keys," Allison adds. She glances over at Charlotte who subtly gestures for her to keep talking. "And ask him if he can search my house while we distract Gerard at the lacrosse game."

After a few minutes of rest, Stiles grabs Charlotte's water bottle and chugs it down. He turns to the Argent with a scowl that rivals one of Derek's. "Seriously? Just use one of those drug dealer phones. You know, the burner-"

"Stiles!" Charlotte exclaims. "She said to go ask him!"

"Fucking hell," he mutters in frustration. "I hate you both so much right now." The girls giggle as they watch him run up the stairs, trying not to collapse on the way into the building.

»»———-　　———-««

Charlotte's glad she brought a scarf as well as her coat. It's fucking freezing. Her fingers have been shoved into her pockets since she left her car, and she's slightly worried that if she took them out, they'd freeze like icicles and fall off her hands. She turns back from her usual position on the team bench to see Allison with her grandfather, Gerard politely passing her coat because, once again, it's fucking freezing. Charlotte's guessing the keys to his office are in said coat. She grins as she turns back to the field. "Allison's got his coat," she tells Stiles. "Let's just hope he's stupid enough to leave them in there. Please be stupid enough to leave them in there."

Stiles snickers and rubs his palms together, trying to create warmth from the friction. "Wouldn't be surprised," he retorts.

The blanket of ebony black stares down at the field from above, almost completely bare aside from the few dozens of stars visible to those below. The floodlights act like a full moon. Then the starting whistle blows and the game for the night commences. However, much to everyone's disappointment (mostly everyone's), it doesn't take long for the Beacon Hills players to get thrown onto the ground by the opposition.

Charlotte and Stiles both wince at a particular violent tackle. "Oh, wow, that looks like it hurt," the latter murmurs. He clears his throat. "Okay, I'll wait a few more minutes so I don't look suspicious to Coach then head over." She nods. The plan is for him to casually walk past the bleachers, where Allison has conveniently placed herself at the end of, for the girl to drop the keys into his hands. Stiles would then head into the empty school and to the principal's office, where hopefully the bestiary would somewhere be tucked away. 

Bobby Finstock storms over to the bench and plops himself down beside Charlotte, yelling at the referee whilst doing so. "Oh, come on! Is that thing even a teenager?" he rages. "I wanna see a birth certificate!"

The blonde-haired girl looks onto the field to see who has predominantly been taking out their players and grimaces. "Oh, wow... Me too, Coach," she grimly agrees.

"Stilinski! Martin!" The pair of teenagers calmly hum as they look to the seething man. "Who or what is that genetic experiment gone wrong?"

"Eddie Abramovitz, Coach," Stiles replies nonchalantly. "They call him 'The Abomination.'"

"Oh. That's cute," the man deadpans.

Charlotte chuckles but it quickly dies away when yet another player is knocked down. "Can we bribe him to switch onto our side?" she questions her teacher.

Finstock narrows his eyes at Eddie Abramovitz, then turns to the girl with a sly grin spreading on his lips. "That might be your best idea yet," he comments, patting her shoulder approvingly. 

"Thanks, Coach!"

The man jumps back up to storm over the referrer again. Stiles groans when his eyes lock onto the scoreboard. "Oh, shit, this is going horrendously," he mutters.

Charlotte nods. "And it's only gonna get worse when Scott gets off the field."

"Okay, I'm outta here," he concludes, clasping his hands together. "Good luck."

"Send me a message if you need help, yeah?" she questions with concern. When he nods, she turns back around to meet eyes with Allison. Charlotte raises her brows, silently asking her friend if she needs help. Allison subtly shakes her head and mouths, It's all good.

"What the hell!" Coach shrieks. "Get that kid outta here!"

Noticing Melissa McCall on the sides of the bleachers, Charlotte jumps up from her spot and jogs over to the woman. Melissa smiles and pulls the girl into a brief hug before going back to watching the game. "Hi, sweetheart, how are you doing?"

She smiles. "Good thanks."

"They're not doing great, are they?"

"Oh no," she immediately replies. Melissa grimaces. "They're suffering." When a shadow falls upon her, she glances beside her to find the player she had seen bickering with Jackson the other day. "Matt, right?"

The boy smiles at her. "Yeah." As they watch a Beacon Hills player get wheeled off the field on a gurney, Matt turns to Melissa and questions, "He belong to you?"

"No, mine's still on the field... While I'm here, wishing that he would've stuck with tennis." Charlotte lets out a genuine laugh and Melissa smiles at the girl. But just like any conversation she has where Scott's identity is subtly touched on, a part of her breaks for the mother. If only she knew that a broken bone wouldn't do as much damage as she thought it would... "You the yearbook photographer?"

"No," Matt dismisses. "I... Uh, I just take pictures."

Charlotte leans over to take a look at the most recent photograph on the viewfinder of his camera, and she gives him a small smile. "That's really good, you should enter it in festivals or carnivals..."

"Pretty good reaction," he says quietly to himself. "Pretty cool, right?"

She nods. "Yeah, you're really talented."

Melissa takes her eyes off the game briefly. "Do you do just lacrosse?" she queries the boy. "Or other things."

"Anything that catches my eye," he vaguely responds.

The minute Matt turns his back to the women, Charlotte's smile drops. She isn't sure whether she should be worried or not that Matt is taking candid pictures of Allison at a high school lacrosse game.

"Martin! For God's sake, someone find me Martin!"

Plastering on a smile, she waves goodbye to the pair and hurries back over to Coach who seems even more frazzled than before. "Here, Coach, what's up?" She frowns when she spots Danny on the bench holding an ice pack to his head. "Woah, Danny, did The Abomination get you, too?" She gives him a sympathetic smile when he nods and she places a hand on his shoulder.

"I need you to find Stilinski," Finstock tells her desperatedly. "We need a miracle to get out of this. We are losing this game-"

"Badly," she finishes.

"No, not badly." Charlotte's brows raise. "Terribly!" She nods in understanding. "And all of these losers don't know how to play lacrosse! Danny!" Coach holds his hand up before the boy's face. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Four?" he hesitantly answers.

"Say two."

"...Two?"

"Perfect, get up."

Charlotte refrains her grin from returning. "Still one player, Coach," she points out.

"We're down a player?" he questions incredulously. Coach raises his arms up and groans. "Where the hell is Stilinski?"

"Medical emergency," the girl instantly replies.

"I swear to God I'm going to murder someone."

And because she's not particularly fond of people dying in front of her, Charlotte turns around to the crowd behind her and scans the spectators. This time, a smile does appear on her face at who her eyes find at the very top of the bleachers. "Coach?"

"What- oh. Oh, yes! You! You play lacrosse?"

Boyd quickly nods and he smiles at the blonde-haired girl before taking his jacket off and standing up. "There's your miracle, Coach," she says proudly.

"Oh! Hahahaha! We got ourselves a player!"

»»———-　　———-««

Style
S-O-FUCKING-S
lydia's crying and she's asking for you
we're at her car
hurry

Charlotte frowns and glances back out to the field and mutters to Scott, "Lydia emergency. Good luck, Scotty. Please try not to kill anyone. Unless it's Jackson, then you have my full approval." She swears she sees him smile, even from the distance.

She quickly texts Allison to say she's no longer at the game but nearby if there happens to be an emergency. Charlotte races into the parking lot to quickly spot Stiles leaning against her sister's Toyota. He meets her halfway. "I gotta go to the office," he rushes out, his eyes flicking behind her to the field. "You gonna be okay with her?"

"Yeah, go, go." She smiles. "We'll be all right." Charlotte softly sighs as she knocks on the window to the driver's door. She softly smiles as her sister tilts her head slightly to look at her, the tears streaming down her cheeks glistening from the nearby floodlights. "Hey, Dee? Wanna open up for me?"

The sound of the vehicle being unlocked gives her the chance to get into the passenger seat. Lydia dabs a tissue under her eyes and sniffles. "I-I'm trying so hard to hold everything in, to make everything seem okay. 'Cause compared to what they're all dealing with out there, what is it now some lizard? Just, everything I'm dealing with seems so small! I mean, they're out there saving the fucking world... And I'm hallucinating some dead guy."

Her eyes flick across her sister's face. "I think I understand some of how you're feeling. It kinda feels like compared to the scale of everything else, it's... not being forgotten about, but kind of being put second?"

Lydia nods and brushes away her mascara stained tears. "Yeah," she agrees quietly.

"But Lydia, you're never second to me," Charlotte states firmly. "Ever. Okay? You are always my first priority. Even if the world was ending, I would drop everything to make sure that you were okay."

This elicits a small smile out of the girl.  "Even over Scott and Stiles?"

"I know I treat them as brothers, 'cause in a way they are... But you're my family, Lydia. You're my best friend. Bestest friend, even over Scott and Stiles. Yes, I know that's not a word." Lydia laughs, but it sounds more like a strangled sob. Charlotte smiles. "Just don't tell them I said that."

"Can I have a hug?"

"Why are you even asking me?"

Wrapping her arms her twin, she rubs her back in circles, trying her best to soothe her. "I am so, so sorry if you ever feel you aren't important. But whatever's going on with us, we're gonna figure it out." Lydia sniffles again. Charlotte doesn't give a shit that her coat is probably coated in tears. "You wanna know something? You're not crazy. Both of us are seeing this asshole. For whatever fucked up reason, both of us are hallucinating him. Maybe it's trauma, maybe it's something else. But whatever it is, we're gonna deal with it together."

"Thank you," Lydia whispers gratefully.

After insisting she was okay to go home alone, Charlotte promised her sister that she would be half an hour, maximum, behind her. She quickly follows along the path up to the school that Stiles would've taken minutes earlier, and grins when she hears the faint sounds of Coach's yells. This time, however, he sounds considerably less angered than before. "The bigger they are... the bigger they are!" Obviously Boyd is turning out to be a much better lacrosse player than Scott is.

Barging through the double doors, Charlotte quickly walks around trying to find any source of noise. All around her is dead silence. "Stiles?" she calls out. The only response she gets is the echo of her own voice. Sighing, she heads toward the direction of Gerard's office, only to find the door wide open. Her brows furrow. "Stiles?"

"Charles! Get out of here!"

With her eyes narrowed in confusion, Charlotte walks towards the direction of her best friend's voice. "Do you seriously expect me to 'get out of here'? Honestly, Stiles, you should kn- holy motherfucking shit."

Her eyes widen as she enters the indoor pools and she stops in her tracks. Right in front of her is the reptilian creature from the other night. "Charlotte, go find Scott!"

The girl's head whips around as she tries to find where Stiles, and now Derek, are located. Her eyes lock onto the pair in the pool, her best friend with his arm wrapped around the werewolf's shoulders. "Don't you two look cosy," she comments dryly. The lizard hisses at her and she nods. She moves her hands up into the air. "Okay, sorry. Attention's all yours." Her eyes flick back to the two in the pool. "What are you doing in there, Yoda?"

The creature advances on her, however, it doesn't seem to be wanting to attack her. "It paralysed him," Stiles calls out. "Same as it did to me the other night."

"Huh, so you're a poisonous lizard... Nice to formally meet you." The creature bares its teeth. She swallows. "Yep, yeah, apologies."

"Charlotte, you need to go get Scott," Derek demands weakly. "Now."

"Yeah, I can't hold him up much longer!"

"Stiles, don't fucking drop me."

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

"Not if this thing beats him," she retorts. "Tell me why it hasn't already?" Charlotte closely watches the creature as its dart flick between herself and the two males afloat in the water. Her heartrate rapidly increases once she spots Erica's limp body laying a few metres away from her. She can just see the girl's chest rising and falling. She lets out a small sigh in relief.

"We think it's afraid of water," Derek answers.

"Well, you're not Jackson then," she concludes with disappointment. "All right, I'm going to slowly get out of here... Not going to hurt you..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Stiles' phone beside the pool they are in. She locks eyes with him and deliberately looks at the device then back to the lizard. Stiles seems to realise her thought process and he nods. Charlotte suddenly makes a run for it down the corridor and exits the pools without a second look. She hears splashes, Derek's yells, and loud hisses. It seems as if the creature had abandoned her in the effort to grab Stiles as he tried to get to his phone.

She makes it out onto the field and quickly casts her eyes around the players, trying to find Scott's jersey. But when she can't find her best friend, she hurriedly dials his phone. It goes straight to voicemail. "Scott McCall, I'm going to fucking kill you," she seethes into the phone. Ten failed calls later, she decides to try Allison instead. If luck is on her side, hopefully the two are together. "Alli! Thank fuck one of you picked up. Where are you?"

"I'm at home with my family and Scott. Wait, what's going on?"

Charlotte barely takes notice of the sentence stating that Scott is with the Argents in their home. "Tell your idiotic boyfriend to turn his phone off silent in the event of emergencies. Stiles and Derek are trapped in one of the pools at the school. This psycho-killer lizard wants dinner."

"Shit," Allison whispers in alarm.

"Yes, shit is the correct reaction."

"Charles?"

"Scott! Finally! You need to get here right now. And I mean right now. As in, hang up and start running." The call abruptly finishes and Charlotte heaves a sigh, sliding down the wall of the bleachers onto the grass. She can't do anything right now. There isn't any point trying to fight the creature; she had zero chance of beating it. And she can't afford to get paralysed like Derek had been, then she really would be rendered useless. The best chance they currently have is Scott. Her eyes widen in realisation. "Oh, we are fucked."

»»———-　　———-««

 

Twenty minutes later, a sopping wet Stiles walks towards Charlotte's car, Scott following him. The girl sighs with relief. "Oh, thank God." She rushes over to Stiles and scans his body for injuries. "Are you okay?"

He gratefully takes the towel from her. "I think so. I think Derek's okay, too."

She nods. "So now we've had a good look at lizard bitch, any ideas of what the fuck it is?"

Scott frowns and unlocks his car to pull his laptop out. "We found the bestiary at Allison's house," he states. "It was on a USB."

Charlotte chuckles and she shakes her head as he plugs the drive in. "Now that's one way to send us on a wild goose chase," she mutters.

Stiles' eyebrows furrow as he peers closer at the computer screen. "What language is that?" he questions to the girl.

She pulls the laptop towards her and squints her eyes. "Archaic Latin."

Both her friends turn to her in surprise. "You know Latin?"

"I mean, I know French. But then I got bored of it. So then I learnt Latin. But Latin's not super exciting, so I also got bored of that..."

Stiles stares at her incredulously. "You... you got bored of-"

"It's called a Kanima."

Charlotte spins around at the interruption. Her eyes fall onto Erica and her heartrate subconsciously picks up, even though she's incredibly relived to see that the girl is awake and unscathed. "Are you okay?"

Erica meets her eyes and a small smile lifts at her lips. "Yeah, I think so," she reassures.

Stiles shakes his head vigorously at Derek. "No no. You knew this whole time?"

"Only when it was confused by its own reflection," the man corrects, referring to the moment where Scott had accidentally shown the creature its reflection.

Charlotte frowns. "It doesn't recognise itself," she concludes.

Derek nods at her. "Exactly. It doesn't know what or who it is."

Stiles shuts the laptop. "What else do you know?" he presses.

"Just stories, rumours."

"What? It's like us?"

Charlotte chuckles. "Scott, the last time I checked none of you had scales."

The corners of Derek's lips turn upwards at her words. "It's a shapeshifter, yes," he confirms. "But it's-it's not right. It's like a..."

Charlotte and Stiles share a look and sigh. "An abomination," the latter finishes.

He nods at them and motions for Erica to follow as they turn away. "Derek, wait," Scott calls out pleadingly. "We need to work together on this."

The blonde-haired girl shrugs. "This isn't the worst idea you've had today."

"Maybe even tell the Argents," he continues.

The grin she was sporting from a few seconds ago drops. Charlotte turns to stare at the boy. "I take it back. Scott, what the fuck? " When the werewolf turns to Stiles, the Stilinski shakes his head and wildly gestures to her in agreement.

Derek steps closer to him with narrowed eyes. "You trust them?"

"Nobody trusts anyone!" he exclaims in frustration. "That's the problem. While we're here arguing about who's on what side, there's something scarier, stronger, and faster than any of us and it's killing people! And we still don't even know anything about it!"

"Well, the bestiary is a good start," Charlotte points out. "I'll work on it with Lydia."

Stiles hums. "See, that's step one. One step at a time, you guys!"

Derek's jaw clenches. "I know one thing for sure. When I find it? I'm gonna kill it." He turns his back on the three, and he and Erica walk away.

"No need for the dramatics!" Charlotte calls out.

𝘚𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 $200 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦... 🦎🦎