For the seemingly thousandth time, a bell rung. The sharp and mechanical sound rang throughout the high-school halls and seeped into the classrooms like a rampant auditory virus.
And a virus it was-- plaguing Scott's ears effortlessly and ripping him from the confines of his sleep. Not that it was very peaceful-- or productive.
As his head rose from his desk, the chaotic tide of students exiting the class interrupted the lasering gaze of his algebra teacher as she stared holes through him. It seemed like all teachers looked at him that way these days.
Not that they had no reason....
"Not good Scott. When the school year started I was sure you'd turned a new leaf. What's happened in these past weeks to change it all?" The short blonde-haired woman asked while she continued to glare from above the rim of her thick glasses. With the students gone from the room, she could scrutinize him with her eyes freely as he rose from his seat.
"Change-- that's what changed it all." Scott thought to himself before he shrugged on his backpack and replied to the teacher in a rush, "I'll get back on track."
"I sure hope so." She said as he briskly exited the classroom.
He didn't hear her response. Surprisingly enough, his super werewolf sensory abilities weren't strong enough to dull the incessant scream of his mind as it ran at a mile a minute. The school was still being ran by an Argent. Hell, THE Argent. There was a mysterious and unimaginably powerful shifter of unknown origin walking around not only the school but his place of work. There was a murderous spear-wielding monster on the streets along with a million other issues that he couldn't seem to fix fast enough.
Somehow that wasn't all of it. The current issue was one that began long before Beacon Hills seemed to spin out of control. Long ago. On the night when he lost his chance to be with Alison in peace. To be normal. The night Peter Hale was killed, and Derek stole his Alpha Spark.
That was bad enough, but what followed was worse.
Isaac Lahey. Derek's first powerplay as Alpha.
As Scott traveled through the crowded hall full of students eager to reach the lunchroom, his phone buzzed from the depths of his jean pocket.
He fished it out urgently, opening the messages tab with the professional quickness of someone who'd done it a thousand times. His bandaged left hand lay at his side limply.
"Speak of the devil.." He mumbled while reading the message, "Stiles: We have a problem. I don't know if you've seen the news, but they were able to prove Isaac's dad was killed by something non-human. Isaac's been exonerated. He's in the school right now."
Before Scott could begin to attempt a reply, his forehead clashed into the cold thick fabric of leather over bone and muscle. His nose stung from the wafting scents of urine and feces as he recovered.
The men's room. A horrible place. Even more horrid was the underlying smell of shifter that he hadn't noticed until now. Until he'd quite literally let it hit him in the face.
The individual in leather moved-- quick and lanky like his limbs, lowering to pick up a phone that hit the floor. Scott's phone.
Dozens upon dozens of students brushed past them, whispering and double taking the individual that turned to face Scott, handing him his phone.
"Hey Scott." The student said. His voice was different. Less saddened and in a panic. It held composure-- arrogance. But he still smelled faintly of fear beneath his dark clothes and boots.
"Isaac." Scott said plainly, half surprised, half unnerved by the teen's cunning smile.
With his dark eyebags, long brown hair and pale skin that contrasted with his shadowy clothing, he looked like death livened by ferocity. He'd grown since the last full moon. Scott didn't exactly think that was a good thing. Suddenly remembering who his teacher was, he was sure it was a bad thing.
He took the phone finally and placed it back in his pocket, ignoring the fact that Stiles was calling him. And spamming him.
Isaac looked from him to the phone a few times before his smile widened, "Looks like I'm famous."
"No. You're in danger." Scott explained while calmly referencing the cameras that lined the school.
Isaac looked at him as if he were an idiot, "I'm not the omega here. You are, Scott."
"Is that what Derek tells you?" Scott questioned.
Isaac shrugged with the same cunning smile. He was up to something.
"Where is Derek?" Scott asked, face suddenly hardened by determination.
Isaac paused, seemingly questioning whether he wanted to answer that question while his eyes casually drifted over every objectively pretty female student to pass him on their way to lunch.
The silence lasted only a few seconds while he watched people gossip over him, seemingly driving home the fact that he was famous in way. Staying on the subject, he straightened out and spoke, "Speaking of famous people, where is Beacon Hills' one and only accomplished triathlete and lacrosse star?"
"Isaac-- whatever you're planning.... I sugge--"
"Ah, I'll go find him myself." Isaac interrupted before turning and taking off to blend in with the crowd.
Scott moved to pursue the WereWolf only for a thin fingered hand to clasp over his shoulder.
"Scott! Scott, did you get my message!" Stiles urgent voice rattled his ears as he watched Isaac continue to fade in with the crowd.
"Yea..... Isaac's back."
"He's here for a reason. He's been snooping around all morning." Stiles explained, running his hand over his buzzed head.
"He's here for Derek."
Stiles turned to look at Scott as he stood beside him, "Wha-- Ohhhhh shit."
"They want to change Jackson. Jackson who's wanted to abuse the power of a... someone like us since he found out about us." Scott said grimly.
"We need to get to that lunchroom." Stiles said as they both took off.
***
And took off they did, entering the massively crowded lunchroom in record time as they pushed and shoved their way towards the smells of chemically processed meats and cold vegetables. So appetizing.
On the contrary-- of course, Scott wasn't hungry in the slightest. All he felt was the heavy beat of his heart and the constant pain in his hand.
He focused on locating Isaac. He had his smell, he just needed to keep it separated from the others and follow it, which he did, letting his eyes scan over the familiar faces sat at each collection of tables.
Alison and Lydia discussed the last classes notes. He found his eyes meeting Alison's for a moment longer than he could help before she smiled faintly and looked away.
Danny and the rest of the first line near the doors into the cafeteria, talking and laughing while they threw around a lacrosse ball.....
The basketball players sat further behind in a similar fashion-- oblivious to the world around them.
Marco stood against a wall near the front of the room with his comically large guitar case leaned up against his hip. His massive arm muscles pulling the sleeves of his grey hoodie to the point of nearly tearing as he flipped through the pages of a book and took monstrous bites out of an apple. Same as always, he looked angered at everything the world had to offer.
The entire half of the cafeteria he occupied was volumes quieter than the other side. Even so, Erica sat a few dozen feet away, eyeballing him with a flirtatious smile, seemingly unaware of all the students doing the same to her.
"Found him." Stiles interrupted, flicking his chin off to the back corner of the room where Isaac and Jackson sat in conversation.
Scott moved without thinking. Stiles followed.
The walk felt like it lasted an eternity and was forgotten the moment the two made it to their lonely table at the back corner of the cafeteria. Scott closed the final few steps of distance between them and reached out for Isaac, no longer focused on the cacophonous chatter of the cafeteria that seemed to muddle his hearing or the pain in his hand.
He had to fix it. Fix everything.
"Isaa--"
"AAAAAAHHH!!"
A scream sharp enough to cut steel ripped through the cafeteria and had everyone grabbing at their ears and dropping to the floor as if they'd just been hit by a stun grenade. The sound, both chilling and energizing was undeniably female and familiar to both Scott and Stiles. In fact, they'd been hearing it more often every week.
Scott pushed himself off the ground and found Stiles already on his feet looking back towards the rest of the cafeteria behind them.
"L-Lydia?" He said, although it sounded muffled.
***
Without thinking, Stiles left Isaac and Jackson who were also stunned, and joined the growing crowd of students circling whoever was located at the center of the cafeteria. He could feel Scott behind him.
They pushed and shoved their way to the center, stepping over spilled food and backpacks until they found themselves standing over two students.
Alison and Lydia. Alison seemingly the only coherent one of the two had a panicked look on her face as she tried to console Lydia who hugged her knees to herself and rocked back and forth in a self-soothing manner in between unintelligible mumbles.
Alison spoke to Scott urgently, Stiles was focused on Lydia. So focus that the rest of the world faded. Only the words that escaped her red glossed lips entered his perception.
He stilled, closing his eyes and dropping down to sit beside her so he could hear her whispers better.
His eyes glowed and his hearing sharpened.
"...Fire... f-fire over a land of ice... lively heat over d-deathly cold ... violence .... chaos in-between-- He's going to die ..... and so are you... fire.... fire over a land of ice ..... red eyes in between..... help him."
As she spoke, her eyes seemed to focus on whatever she saw in front of her. Almost like she was looking through the students. She even began to point. The students moved, following her points until they were all looking at an empty table.
"The hell?" A few of the onlookers began.
"Isn't this the third time in the past two weeks?" More started.
"She's nuts."
"Shut up." Stiles said.
They continued.
"What's wrong wi--"
"I said shut up!"
The students flinched at the harshness of his voice. He pushed past them and began looking at the table in greater detail. Not just the table, but who usually sat there. He could still smell them.
"Fire over a land of ice...." He whispered as the students began to look at him like he was just as crazy, ".....Fire over-- .... The ice rink."
Scott looked up from Alison.
Stiles suddenly turned the opposite direction and shoved past the loose circle of students to face where Isaac and Jackson once stood.
Now only Jackson remained, and Isaac was just exiting the cafeteria. He looked panicked. Fearful.
"Red eyes....." Stiles mumbled, "Derek??."
"What are you thinking Stiles?" Scott whispered.
Stiles dropped down beside them and began fiddling with the bags and food to look as if he were cleaning up the area while the students faintly still watched. He beckoned for the others to join.
Once they did, he spoke in a whispered tone.
"It was a trap."
"So... you got that from Lydia?" Scott asked in confusion.
Stiles shrugged, "Just listen. Why would Derek go for Jackson anyway-- he's egotistical, mentally damaged, incapable of forming relationships and heartless. Now why would he suddenly start trying hard to recruit Jackson after Jackson's been trying to get the bite for months?"
"...." Scott stayed silent.
"Because it makes sense. It seems like the most probable option..... to us."
"He doesn't want Jackson-- Jackson would endanger his pack." Alison understood.
"As desperate as Derek may be for power, he's not stupid."
"But he does want power." Scott reaffirmed.
"And that means changing someone. Someone that isn't very conspicuous or well known. Someone who isn't outwardly weak-- mentally or physically."
Scott and the rest of them looked back at the table Lydia continued to point at.
"Someone like Boyd." Stiles explained.
And apparently, he was about to die.
"We need to get to the ice rink." Scott said.
Following his words, they all got up. Scott and Stiles took off for the door, Lydia and Alison headed to the nurse's office while Alison furiously typed away at her phone in a rush. The crowd disseminated and the cafeteria was left in a disaster. Only for Scott and others to seemingly jump headfirst into a new disaster of infinitely worse proportions.
All in response to the rambled mumblings of a girl seemingly losing her mind....