Chapter Text
[Bottomless pit]
Call Scott and chew him out for me
[Bottomless pit]
Please
Mal stared down at the text, frowning in confusion. It was only ten. What Scott could have possibly done to piss Stiles off so early in the morning was beyond her.
[Mal]
???
[Bottomless Pit]
He totally ditched today
[Bottomless Pit]
And now he’s ignoring me
[Bottomless Pit]
I think he’s out with Allison
Mal frowned harder. Scott had skipped classes before, or skipped half the day, but she couldn’t think of the last time he had taken all day.
She looked around before slipping into one of the exam rooms towards the back. Not six, whose table she had spent a good five minutes staring at when she got here, but it was far enough back that she could steal a few minutes.
[Mal]
Can you call?
A few seconds later her phone lit up.
“Okay so what’s going on?” She whispered, keeping an eye out for anyone.
”Why are you whispering?” Stiles' voice questioned over the receiver. "Actually nevermind, I need you to call Scott. He might actually pick up for you.”
“Stiles, start from the beginning. Why isn’t he picking up? Where did he go?”
"Both excellent questions. He isn’t picking up for me anymore because he’s busy sucking face with his girlfriend, and I have no idea where he’s gone. That’s something I’m hoping you can get out of him.”
”Well, when did he leave?”
“I haven’t seen him since we walked in together, so I’m going to assume this morning.”
Shit.
He was probably just out with Allison like Stiles had said, but Mal couldn’t help the band of anxiety that coiled around her chest.
“You said he isn’t picking up for you anymore? When was the last time he did?”
”Half an hour ago. I tried talking to him about the dead guy and he totally blew me off.”
“What?! What dead guy?” Mal asked, alarmed.
”Oh my god, Mal! I am literally begging you to watch the news every once and a while.”
“Don’t you get on my case about that too! Dad is bad enough as is.”
She could practically hear the eye roll over the phone. “Okay so, there was a guy murdered last night. A video store attendant, done by our not so friendly wolf.”
“Are you sure it was…a wolf?”
”Considering how slashed up he was? Yeah, I’d say so.”
“Shit.” Mal muttered.
”Yeah, and we may have another problem. Lydia Martin, and Jackson Whittemore were there when it happened. And today, Lydia isn’t here, and Jackson looks like he’s on death row.”
“Wait, wait, back up. They were there?! Like, in the building?”
“Well, I don’t know if they were in the building, but from what I heard, Jackson got attacked by something.”
Mal felt her blood run cold. “Fuck, did he get bit?”
Instead of sounding concerned, Stiles just huffed out, “No, no. He wasn’t actually attacked. He just hit his head.”
“Are you absolutely sure?”
“I mean, the EMT wasn’t exactly rushing him to the hospital, and Jackson’s a baby when it comes to getting hurt. Trust me, he would have been bitching to anyone within earshot if he had gotten so much as a scratch.”
Dread switched over to confusion fast enough to give her whiplash. “Wait, so this thing’s been attacking people left and right, but they just left him alone?”
“I guess so?” Stiles finally seemed to realize how weird that was. “I don't know. Maybe they decided he was too whiny to bother with?”
“Stiles, this is serious.”
“I am being serious! You know how Jackson is! I've complained about him! Extensively!”
Mal was extremely aware of who Jackson Whittermore was, and how he acted. Mostly because Stiles complained about Lydia dating ‘such a massive douchebag, like seriously she deserves better’ as he had put it. Although, she was willing to bet her brother was a little biased when it came to the other teen, for that exact reason. Regardless if he was accurately describing him or not, that wouldn’t explain why he had been left unharmed.
Call it intuition, but she got the feeling that this was all a bit bigger than they thought it was.
”Mal?” Stiles’ voice dragged her back to the present after she had been quiet for too long.
She tucked that thought away for later. They had bigger issues right now.
“Could you try talking to them? Find out if they saw or heard anything?”
”I’m not even going to bother with Jackson, but I’m going to check up on Lydia after school.”
“Okay. Let me know what you find out. I’ll try and call Scott.”
As soon as he hung up she pulled up Scott’s number, that band around her chest tightening when it went straight to voicemail.
Mal tried calling Scott throughout the day, her unease growing every time he failed to pick up. It got to the point where she thought about calling Mrs. McCall, but she didn't want to worry the poor woman in case this was nothing.
She ended up going into one of the empty rooms and tossing her phone on the table, glaring it down as if she could make Scott call her back through sheer force of will.
A knock had her head snapping up, looking over to the door frame to find her dad standing there. “Waiting for an important call?”
Mal shrugged, shoving the phone back in her pocket. “You could say that, yeah.”
He nodded, hesitating slightly before walking further into the room and held up an envelope. “I, uh, I know you technically aren’t an expert, but we think whatever tore Laura apart and killed Garrison struck again. This time it was in town, and we think we got some pictures of it, but it doesn't look like any animal I've ever seen. I was wondering if you could take a look? Maybe you'll have better luck?”
Mal forced her face to stay blank, even as her heart slammed into her ribs, and nodded. “Sure.”
He opened the envelope and laid them on the table, and Mal felt a chill go down her spine.
The first one was almost nothing, just a black blur breaking through the front window. The second one, however, would be far less easy to explain away.
It was the alpha, it had to be. The massive creature was down on all fours, its body nearly as large as the car it was running past. It did somewhat resemble a bear, but…wrong. Twisted. She didn’t know how else to describe it.
Jesus, this was the thing running around beacon hills right now?
“I’m not crazy, right?” Her dad asked after a minute. “That looks weird.”
Mal glanced up to find him watching her carefully, and she dropped her eyes back to the photo. The thing about having a cop for a dad was that you had to get very good at learning how to navigate around something without lying outright.
Half-truths, Mal had found, worked the best.
“It does look weird.” She agreed, looking him in the eye. “I don’t think I’ve seen any bears that look like that. However, malnourishment or poor living conditions could explain the odd proportions.”
He squinted his eyes, first at her, then at the pictures. “You sure?”
“No,” She confessed, “But it’s the best I’ve got.”
He grunted, staring down at the photos for a moment before scoping them back up and putting them away. “I’ll ask around about it.”
Mal nodded, relieved that he was dropping it.
He tucked the envelope under his arm, then shoved his hands in his pocket, and an awkward silence descended over the room.
Mal cleared her throat. “Well, I should get back to work.”
“Right, right.” He stayed where he was though. “Just, uh, Stiles said you’re coming over for dinner Wednesday?”
“Yup. I’ll be over around six.”
“You know, it’s been a while since I’ve had your garlic mash potatoes.” He sent her a pleading look.
Mal couldn’t stop the smile that swept across her face. “Ah, nice try, but I’ve already been informed that if I dare to bring anything other than greens over, I will be banished from the house.”
He scowled. “Damn it.”
“He’s just looking after you.”
“I know, but a little starch every now and again isn’t gonna kill me.” He bemoaned.
Mal snorted. “Tell you what, I’ll try to sneak some butter onto the brussel sprouts I bring.”
He pulled a face at that before sighing. “I suppose that’s as good as I’m gonna get.” He looked over at her again, then gently rapped his knuckles on the table. “Alright well, I’ll get out of your hair now.”
“See you later.”
He nodded, turning to walk out the door, and Mal felt an unexpected spike of panic. Maybe it was because she had just seen what they were actually up against, or maybe it was because Scott had been missing most of the day, but she found herself calling after him. “Hey, dad?”
He immediately turned back to her, and then froze in surprise when she walked over to pull him into a hug. He only stayed that way for a second before returning it, pulling her in even closer.
It was nice. Really nice. Mal tried to remember the last time they had hugged, a little uneasy when she found herself drawing a blank. Had it really been that long?
Eventually, they pulled apart. Her dad blinked rapidly a few times, and Mal felt a familiar burning at the back of her own eyes. They both graciously decided to not bring it up.
“Just, be careful.” Mal requested.
He nodded, looking dazed. “Of course.”
She stepped back, feeling a little embarrassed, and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Right, well, I’ll see you Wednesday.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” He shot her a tentative smile before walking out, looking a little lighter.
Mal watched his retreating back until it disappeared around the corner. As soon as he was out of sight she tried to call Scott again, her chest tightening further when it went to voicemail again.
~*~
Mal threw herself back to work, trying to keep herself busy even as the clock slowly ticked away. If Deaton noticed her checking her phone more often than usual, he didn’t say anything.
It wasn’t until after four that her phone rang. Mal dropped everything and raced to answer it, swallowing back her disappointment when it turned out to be Stiles. “Have you heard from him?”
”No, and we have another problem.”
“Oh god, what now.” Mal groaned, her feet carrying her in a circle around the room.
”You know how I said that Lydia and Jackson were there during the attack? Well, turns out Lydia was taking a selfie or something and she caught the alpha running past her.”
Mal stopped her pacing. “Shit, what did she say?”
“Uh, well, she’s kind of out of it right now, but she just kept saying it was a bear. I’m not sure if she actually believes that, or was just repeating what she heard.”
"Okay, okay. How clear is the photo? Could it be passed off as a bear?”
"Absolutely not. This thing looks like the werewolf from An American Werewolf in London on freaking steroids! You can see the red eyes and everything!”
"Fuck." She muttered.
The photos her dad had brought earlier were in black and white, and pretty grainy. If Lydia had something higher quality, they were all in trouble.
"Delete it." She decided after a moment. "Last thing we need is something like that floating around."
”You sure? What if we need it for something?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Something?”
Mal blew a breath out of her nose, feeling a headache come on. “We won't. Just…get rid of it.”
Stiles grumbled over the phone. ”Fine, but if we end up needing it later, I totally get to say I told you so.”
Mal snorted in amusement. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
They both were quiet for a moment.
”Alright it's gone. Now, if you'll excuse me, I’m gonna go home and sleep for the next twelve to fourteen hours.” Stiles said, sounding as exhausted as she felt.
“What about Scott?”
”What about Scott. ” He huffed out bitterly. ”Other than the fact that I’m so not talking to him for the next few days.”
Mal chewed her lip nervously. “Just, what if something happened to him?”
"Mal, I told you. He’s probably just off with Allison somewhere.”
“I know, I know, but- Do you think you could check a few places around town? I know I’m probably worrying over nothing, but I can’t shake the feeling something bad has happened.”
Stiles heaved out a sigh, like this was the worst inconvenience he had ever experienced. “Fine. But only because you’re my favorite sister.”
Mal rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at her lips. “Oh well that’s good, because you happen to be my favorite brother.”
”After all the running around I’m about to do, I’d better be.” He grumbled, but there was no real heat behind it. “I’ll call you when I find him.”
“Thanks, Sty. Stay safe.”
”Yeah, yeah.”
She pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at the wall.
Scott was fine. He was probably off sharing a milkshake with Allison, or whatever kids these days did. He was totally fine and she was overreacting.
“Was that Scott?”
Mal jumped a little, turning around to face Deaton, who was watching her concern.
“Ah, no. That was Stiles, but he’s gonna go look for Scott.”
Deaton frowned at that. “You haven’t heard from him either?”
“No, I’m afraid not. I think he had a date with Allison tonight so he probably just lost track of time.” She was proud of herself for keeping her voice as even as she did.
He just stared at her for a moment before nodding. “Alright well, let me know if you do end up hearing from him. It’s not like him to miss work.”
She nodded back. “I will.”
As soon as he was out of the room, Mal tried Scott again.
Another hour passed without a word from Stiles, or Scott, and just as she was getting ready to say to hell with it and call her dad to start up a search party, Stiles came into the room, uncharacteristically quiet.
Mal felt her heart leap into her throat. “You didn’t find him?”
Stiles shook his head wordlessly.
“You looked everywhere?”
“Yup.”
“Including my place?”
“Also a bust.”
“Is there anywhere else he could be?”
Stiles pressed his lips into a thin line, staring off into the distance. Mal started pacing again, racking her own brain for where he could have disappeared off to.
Last night he had said something about wanting things to feel normal. Where would he have gone to feel normal? That was if he wasn’t lying in a ditch somewh-
Mal cut off that line of thought as quickly as it popped up. She could think like that or she was going to start freaking out, then Stiles was going to start freaking out, and they were going to get caught in an endless loop of freaking each other out.
She needed to stay calm, and think.
Where would he have taken Allison? He wanted to feel normal, but he wasn’t at any of the usual hangout spots. He wouldn’t have gone over to her house, would he have? Not after they literally just talked about that last night. That had been the one thing she told him not to do if he wanted to keep dating her. Well, one of two things but the training thing wasn’t really-
Mal froze, then mentally facepalmed. Derek! Why hadn’t she thought of him sooner!
She turned to Stiles. “Call Derek.”
He jerked his head up and stared at her like she was crazy. “What?”
“Call Derek.” She repeated, slower.
“No, I know, I heard you. I’m just trying to figure out where the hell that even came from.”
“Well, he’s a werewolf, super senses and all that. If anyone could find Scott, it’s him.”
“Yeah,” Stiles scoffed, "If he agrees to help us.”
Mal rolled her eyes. “Well, just call him and see.”
Stiles squirmed, and mumbled something under his breath.
“What?”
“I said I can’t! I don’t have his number.”
Mal just stared at him for a few seconds. “What do you mean you don’t have his number?”
“Look, have you seen that dude? I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even own a phone.”
"Do you have any way to contact him?"
“No.”
“Well what do you do when you need to tell him something?” Mal asked, growing exasperated.
“We…don’t really tell him things.” He must have seen the outrage that swept across her face because he was quick to add on, “Hey! He doesn’t tell us anything either! It’s a mutual not-telling-each-other-things, thing.”
“Oh, you’re fucking kidding me.” Mal muttered, reaching up to massage her temples, her headache growing worse.
“Well, it’s not our fault!” He protested. “The only times we see him is when he shows up because he needs something, and by ‘shows up’ I mean he pops up out of nowhere to scare the shit out of us.”
She let out a slow breath. Christ, no wonder they were having such a hard time tracking down this alpha, there was a severe lack of communication here.
“Well, do you know where he’s staying at least? Or where he spends most of his time?”
Even if he wasn’t there, maybe they could slip a note under the door or something.
“Uh, I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s staying at his house? Like, his old, burned down house. Which doesn’t seem very healthy if you ask me, but hey, we all cope differently.”
Mal frowned. No, that didn’t seem very healthy. That actually made her feel even worse for the guy. No, wait, Scott. She needed to focus on Scott. “Okay, well, do you know how to get there?”
“Ah, well, you see.” He paused for a minute, staring off into space. “Would you believe me if I said that I have selective amnesia and don’t remember where it is?”
“Stiles.” She groaned.
“I don’t want to go there.” He whined. “It's super creepy!”
“Stiles.”
“I always feel like I’m being watched in that forest. Which is probably just Derek, but still!”
“Stiles.”
“Plus you haven’t seen how he gets when you’re on his property, okay? His eyebrows go all squiggly, like a couple of angry caterpillars.”
“Stiles!” She snapped, finally halting his ramblings. “Look, I’d go myself, but I still have an hour left on my shift. Just, knock on his door, and ask if he’s seen Scott.”
“I haven’t.”
Mal was honestly a little impressed that she and Stiles not only managed to let out a shriek at the exact same pitch, but that they both had the same idea of trying to shove the other person behind the them, which resulted in a very loud, flailing mess of limbs until they realized it was just Derek, who was glaring at them as if it was their fault he had snuck up on them.
"Oh my god, stop doing that!" Mal snapped over Stiles yelling out, "See? See?! I told you!”
He just stared at them both, looking thoroughly unimpressed. And a little rough around the edges. He was pale and sweaty, and his hair was a windswept mess.
“Dude, how did you even get in here?” Stiles whined.
Derek just shot him a look that said ‘you don’t wanna know’ then turned towards Mal. “I haven’t seen him either. I came here hoping you knew where he was.”
The band tightened further. “You haven’t heard from him at all?”
“I just said that.” He snapped
“Hey!” Stiles snapped back, taking a few steps towards the guy, faltering only slightly at the glare sent his way. “There’s no need to get snippy, buddy. We’re just worried about him.” He looked the other man up and down with a frown. “And just where the hell have you been anyways? You look like shit.”
Derek’s expression darkened noticeably. “Hunters."
“What?! Are you okay?” Mal looked him over. She didn’t see any blood, but she noticed he seemed to be favoring his right side.
“Fine. I’ve healed.” He grunted out.
“How did they even find you?” Stiles asked.
His face went cold and closed off in an instant. “Doesn’t matter. They caught me off guard is all. It won’t happen again.”
Mal felt her breath freeze in her chest.
She stared blankly ahead, whatever else Derek said getting lost as a loud ringing filled her ears.
They had somehow found out where he had been staying, and had caught him unaware. Derek, who had been a werewolf his whole life. Who had the knowledge and training and instincts to look after himself. And Scott had none of those things.
Scott, who had disappeared this morning.
Scott, who wasn’t answering his phone.
Scott, who had last been seen with Allison, who belonged to a family of hunters.
The band around her chest snapped shut like a vice, and suddenly she couldn't breathe. The edges of her vision grew dark, and she was vaguely aware of people talking, but couldn't understand what was being said over the rushing in her ears. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt like it was going to burst, the thundering rhythm in sync with the voice in her head snarling ‘Your fault. Your fault. Your fault. ’
She should have called someone. She should have called her dad as soon as Stiles called her this morning. She knew how these things went, the longer the person was gone the less chance of finding them, and she had wasted a whole day sitting around worrying instead of actually doing anything useful to find him and he was gone now and it was all her fault.
Mal was somewhat pulled from her spiral at the feeling of an arm wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her close against a wall of warmth. It took her a moment to fight against the disorientation to realize she was on the ground now, her back braced against a wall. Stiles was all but glued to her side, his arm wrapped around her shoulders to keep her as close as possible as he rambled on in her ear, a false cheeriness to his voice to try and hide how badly it was trembling.
“-nd you know Scott, he’s probably off doing some dumbass shit, and he’ll be back later, and you and me can totally take turns kicking his ass, but right now you need to just breathe. You need to take a deep breath for me, Mal.”
She couldn’t. She couldn’t. Her throat was closing up, her chest being crushed under an impossible weight. She dug her nail into her palm, trying desperately to ground herself and mimic the way Stiles was breathing next to her, loud and exaggerated, but all she could manage were short, raspy gasps. She could hear the fear in his voice and hated herself for doing that to him, but she just couldn’t drag in a single stupid breath.
She was vaguely aware of a second voice saying something, then Stiles was leaning in close again. “Hear that? Derek says they didn’t get him. Okay? See, I told you he was fine.”
She dragged her eyes open (and when had she closed them?) to find Derek crouched a few feet away, the usual scowl absent from his face. As soon as she looked at him, he leaned closer and repeated, “They didn’t get Scott. They wouldn’t have been able to resist bragging about it if they had. Wherever he is, he’s okay.”
That, finally, broke through the fog of panic, and on Stiles’ next inhale, Mal was able to match it.
She let her eyes slip shut again as she dragged in breath after ragged breath, until all her muscles finally unclenched. She leaned fully against the wall, resting the back of her head against it.
Stiles had gone silent next to her, but he was occasionally squeezing her arm reassuringly.
After a few seconds (minutes? hours?) she heard shuffling, and then Derek’s voice. “I’m going to go look for Scott. I’ll let you know if I find anything.”
Mal nodded weakly, squeezing her eyes even further shut, feeling drained now that the attack had passed. She didn’t hear Derek leave, but when she was able to pry her eyes back open, he was gone.
She had to brace herself against the wall for a little while longer, feeling like she just ran a marathon. She let her eyes close for what felt like just a second, but between one blink and the next, Stiles was leading her to the jeep, going on about everything and nothing in the background.
Another blink and they were walking down the hallway to her door, Stiles digging the keys out of her purse and letting them both in. He immediately dragged Mal over the kitchen, sitting her down on one of the stools. She felt like she wasn't even in her own body, like she was just an outsider hovering behind it, watching as Stiles dug through the cabinets, muttering to himself.
She blinked once, twice, then pushed herself up to her feet, feeling like she had to do something . Stiles immediately whipped around, pointing at her. “Nope! Absolutely not! Sit back down. You need to get your energy back. Did you even eat anything today? What am I talking about, of course you didn't. Well this is me officially putting my foot down! You need to eat before you keel over!”
Mal frowned at that, opening her mouth to protest, but nothing came out, her tongue sitting heavy as lead.
Stiles’s eyes softened and he walked over, gently pushing her back into the chair. “It's alright, Mal, really. Just- just let me do this. Please.”
She sunk back into the chair, her small burst of energy suddenly gone, and nodding. Her eyes dropped down, and she only just noticed that her hands were shaking so bad she wouldn't have been able to hold a measuring cup.
He pushed a water bottle into them, making sure to wrap her fingers around it, before going back to the stove.
Mal shakily lifted the bottle, pressing the icy surface against her neck, the cold helping ground her a little. She lost more time again, somewhat aware of a ringtone coming from her bag and Stiles scrambling to answer, by the time she blinked back to awareness, Stiles was sliding a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of her, sitting right next to her with his own plate.
The smell of syrup, cinnamon, and blueberries encircled her like a warm blanket, grounding her further. Stiles grabbed the water bottle, dragging it to the other side of her neck, still talking. He had moved on to the topic of Jackson Whittemore again, complaining about how ‘he had been acting weird all day, and was the worst boyfriend ever because he hadn't even checked on Lydia’, and Mal took a deep breath, feeling herself settle again.
Stiles’s voice abruptly cut off before tentatively asking. “You back?”
Mal nodding, digging her palms into her eyes with a low, “Fuck.”, Under her breath. A wave of guilt immediately dragged her under, harsh and unrepentant. She had swore to herself that she would never just let herself check out like their dad had after Mom's death, and yet, here she was.
She couldn't believe she had done that to Stiles. Scott was just as important to him as he was to her, and Stiles was so much younger. She should have been taking care of him, not the other way around.
Mal tipped her head over to Stiles, not missing how he had dragged their chair close enough together to stay plastered to her side. “I'm so sorry, Sty. I’m-”
He just shook his head, looking relieved. “Don't worry about it. This is- I know it's a lot.”
She shot him a sharp look. “It's a lot for you too. I don't get to just-”
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “You and I both know it doesn't work like that. You don't get to control it.” He grinned at her, trying to lighten the mood. “I mean, it would be nice if we could. You get a nice little dissociative episode for a few hours, then I get a nice little dissociative episode for a few, and we just keep going back and forth until the problem is fixed.”
Mal snorted with amusement, shaking her head and muttering. “Jesus christ, Sty.” Even as she cracked a smile. A smile that slipped away just as quickly when she looked up at the clock and realized she had lost two hours.
She immediately straightened up, looking over at Stiles. “Have you heard anything from….” She trailed off, finding herself unable to say his name.
Stiles’s face dropped, his eyes growing heavy, and he started shaking his head, only to be interrupted by her phone buzzing on the counter three times in quick succession before falling quiet. He immediately scrambled out of his seat, running over to it and snatching it up. He read over what had been sent a few times before it really set it, a thunderous expression crashing down on his face.
“What is it?” Mal held her hand out for the phone, feeling her heart drop into her stomach.
He handed it over without a fuss, looking absolutely furious.
[Mama McCall]
Scott just showed up.
[Mama McCall]
Apparently he thought hanging out with his girlfriend today was more important than school.
[Mama McCall]
If you want to yell at him, you’ll have to come over to do it. He’s grounded until further notice.
Mal sat down heavily, relief flooding through her. She rested her forehead on her hand, the tightness around her chest loosening a little, and took a few deep breaths before shakily responding.
[Mal]
Thank you for letting me know
She dropped her phone on the counter, closing her eyes and just letting herself breathe for a few moments before looking over at Stiles again, who did not look any less pissed than he had since he read the text.
“I can’t believe him.” Stiles gritted out. “We've been worried about him all day, you literally had a panic attack, and he really was just off somewhere with Allison.”
Mal shook her head. “We don't know for sure. That could have just been a cover story he told his mom.”
Stiles just muttered. “It better have been.”
Mal gave herself a few more minutes before pushing herself to her feet and clearing their plates, feeling a bit bad about tossing out so much food, but she and Stiles hadn't been very hungry.
Her brother wordlessly stepped in to help her, the two of them doing the dishes and wiping everything down, sluggish and quiet after the day they'd had.
Once everything had been taken care of, Stiles slipped his shoes on and grabbed his keys. The two of them hugged for a lot longer than normal, with Mal making him promise to text her when he got home, then he left.
Mal braced herself against the door, letting the knowledge that Scott was safe wash over her for a moment, before nodding to herself and pushing away, walking to her bathroom to get ready for bed.
~*~
Mal ended up staring at the ceiling for hours, her mind racing impossibly fast. It was stupid, because she /knew/ that Scott was okay, Mrs. McCall obviously wouldn’t lie to her about that, but her brain was still running in circles screaming what if, what if, what if.
A knock, quiet and tentative, on her bedroom door had her snapping up into a sitting position. She was pretty sure a robber, or a serial killer, wouldn’t knock before entering, but she had no idea who the hell would be here so late.
At least, not until a familiar voice said, “Mal? It’s just me.”
She was up and across the room in the blink of an eye, opening her door to find Scott -whole, alive, okay- standing on the other side.
“Oh thank god.” She pulled him into a bone crushing hug, which he returned -albeit much more gently, and the band that had been coiled around her chest since Stiles had first texted that morning finally vanished.
She pulled him back by the shoulder, looking him over frantically. “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? Were you really out with Allison all day or did you just tell your mom that to cover for something else?”
“I’m fine, I promise. I really was just out with Allison.” Scott admitted sheepishly.
Mal looked him over one last time, letting herself relax at the lack of visible injuries, then punched him in the shoulder. “What the hell were you thinking?” She hissed.
Scott rubbed his shoulder and gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. “I’m sorry, Mal. It was Allison's birthday and she was telling me about how she didn’t want to get all these snarky comments from people so we decided to skip the day.”
“And you couldn’t, oh I don’t know, tell someone you were leaving?! Or where you were going?!”
“I told Stiles!” Scott protested weakly.
“No, you hung up on Stiles then turned off your phone!" Mal snapped.
Scott winced at that, looking away.
“No one knew where you were, Scott! Your phone kept going straight to voicemail and you didn’t show up for work! Then Derek came by saying he had been attacked by hunters and I thought-” Mal’s voice gave out, her throat closing up.
Scott seemed to realize what she had been about to say anyway, his face crumpling. “Shit. I’m so sorry, Mal. I didn’t even think about that. I just wanted to feel normal for a day, you know? Get away from everything.”
Mal could understand that, and under normal circumstances she wouldn’t have been half as worried as she had been today, but these weren’t normal circumstances.
She let out a shuddering breath and dragged her hands over her face before fixing him with a firm look.
“Just, with everything going on right now, you can not just go off the grid like that. You have to tell someone, where you’re going, when you’ll be back, who you’re going with. I’m not expecting a GPS location update every half hour, but you have to give us something.” Mal pleaded.
“I will,” Scott said, dragging her into another hug. “I promise. Mal, I’m so, so sorry for scaring you like that.”
“I forgive you.” She murmured before pulling back and wrapping her hand around his shoulder, shaking him gently. “But don’t ever do that again. I’m way too young to be getting gray hairs.”
Scott shook his head viciously. “Never again, I promise. You’ll be the first person I text from now on.”
“I’d better be.” Mal said with a snort before letting out an ear splitting yawn, the day finally catching up to her now that she knew he was safe.
Scott smiled. “Go back to bed, Mal. I’ll text you when I get home.”
She hummed sleepily. “Do you need a ride? Your bike can fit in my back.”
“Nah, Derek’s gonna drive me back. I hope.”
Mal frowned in confusion. Derek? Why was Derek here?
Scott seemed to pick up on that. “He drove me here after I got home, the asshole was sitting in the dark waiting for me, but, uh, he said I needed to apologize for worrying you all day.”
As soon as he said that, he stood up a little straighter, his head tilted to the side and then he scowled. “Okay, okay, geez.”
He turned to her with an apologetic smile. “He says it’s time to go before he leaves my ass here.”
Mal laughed softly, because she could totally hear that in his voice. “Alright, well, I guess I’ll see you later.”
“Later.” Scott waved, disappearing around the corner into her living room. It took her sluggish brain a second to figure out why he was going in there and not to her front door, and once it did she swore softly and chased after him.
“Use the door!” She called a few seconds too late, finding an open window and no Scott.
Groaning in defeat, she walked over and poked her head out to find him on the lawn. He cupped his hands around his mouth and quietly called back, “Sorry, Mal.” Before waving and running off to a black camaro sitting on the side of the road.
Mal just shook her head, grateful that Stiles at least would always have to use the door, and looked over at the car, unable to stop the smile from sweeping across her face.
“Thank you.” She murmured softly, knowing he would hear it, then went back inside.
This time, she was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.