"Maddy! Wake up!" Someone's obnoxiously loud voice rolled off me. I tried shrugging it off all the way until he started poking my sides. "Madison!"

"Ugh!" I shot up with a groan. "Could you not? I'm ticklish!"

"Really?" Scott looked torn for a minute, as if he was actually considering taking advantage of my weakness before realizing that my shirt was halfway up my chest. Instantly, he averted his eyes. "Could you… I don't know, cover up?"

"It's not like I asked you to be here!" I snapped, hurried pulling my shirt down. I'd always been a messy sleeper. "What do you want?" I demanded, once I was fully covered.

"I went to meet Derek last night."

"Good for you," I muttered, yawning. A quick glance at the clock told me it was 1 in the night. That jerk. "Is that why you woke me up from what was a deep, blissful slumber? I'm going back to sleep."

"No, hey, wait!" He grabbed my covers, throwing them away. "He said he didn't kill the bus driver or his sister."

"Okay. Do you believe him?"

"I don't know." Scott looked conflicted. "He also told me he wasn't the one to bite me. Apparently, there's another one. An Alpha."

"Great," I said drowsily, still completely uninterested in whatever he had to say. "Perfect."

"That's not why I'm here though!" Scott said quickly, as if realizing how far gone I was. "I'm here because Derek mentioned you. Why do you keep meeting him?"

"It's not like I want to! Dude's just… always everywhere."

"Mom still thinks you're dating him, by the way. Madison… You need to stay away from him. He's dangerous!"

Not this again. Seriously, as much as I loved Scott, I hated how unreasonable he was at times. "Look," I said finally, running my fingers through my hair, "I didn't plan on running into him. Don't look at me like that! I'm serious. But I did, and he helped me out. Yep, that's right. He helped me. Honest-to-God. He wasn't very snarky about it either."

"Helped you with what?"

That's when I sighed, rubbing my fingers across my face. It looked like I wouldn't be getting much sleep anyway.

"You should sit down. It's kind of a long story. Remember Isaac Lahey…?"

{X}

"Thanks for the ride, Melissa!" I called out to the speeding car. In the rearview mirror, I could see Mrs McCall smile as she sped past.

Honestly though, I think I needed to find my own ride. Stiles was my designated chauffeur after school, but that could only work for so long. Besides, our timings didn't always match.

"Madison!" A girly voice rang to my left, and then Lydia roped her arms through mine. "Just the girl I was looking for."

"Hey Lydia," I smiled back, trying to ignore just how perfect she looked. Frankly, everyone around me looked stunning. It was doing wonders for my ego. "What's up?"

"Well… I wanted to ask you when exactly you were planning on coming over to pick up the clothes. Mum isn't too thrilled because I basically uprooted my entire cupboard –,"

"You didn't have to –,"

"Nonsense. I couldn't find my Prada shoes."

It… surprised me sometimes just how much of a Lydia she was. The rest of the characters, sure, had their moments, but Lydia was by far the most consistent. Personally, I was secretly waiting for the day Derek would come out and braid friendship flowers in Scott's hair. But so far, I'd settle for watching this. "I'll try for today. Although I'm not sure…."

"Oh, your job, right?" Suddenly, she staggered to a stop. "There's Allison! Hey! Allison!"

Allison waved at us from across the lot, before bending down to say goodbye to her dad. And then, just because he was looking at me, I gave him a short wave too. Lydia looked at me weirdly for that. "You know Allison's dad?"

"I met him at the gas station last night."

"So the rumours about you are true, aren't they?" Just as quickly as she'd grabbed my arm, she dropped it, opting to stand a few feet away with a thoughtful look on her face. "You really are into older men."

I promptly sputtered. "Excuse me?"

"Small town," She said, waving away the explanation. "Mum mentioned you were dating that guy…. Derek, was it?"

"People gossip about me?!"

"People gossip when a guy whose family got burned alive years ago comes back to town. And they definitely gossip when he's accused of murder and they find out he's dating a girl who is, apparently, under the influence of amnesia. Also, did I mention she's technically a minor?"

….

I swear, for a split second, my brain just froze.

Was… there an actual reason she was telling me all this? As far as I knew Lydia, she was the last person to judge another's romantic pursuits. Hell, a few months down the line, she'd be dating a homicidal, trigger-happy werewolf with severe anger issues.

So… why?

Deciding it was pointless trying to speculate, I decided to simply ask her.

"Seriously?" She raised her eyebrows, pouting in that familiar way. "You're asking me why I'm telling you all this? To let you know that I know, silly!" The distance between us lessened as she smacked my arm lightly. "And to tell you I totally approve. I've seen Derek around – you know, before, and he's totally a catch. The sex must be awesome."

I… what?

My dumbfounded expression must've meant something else to her, because she winked lightly in my direction. "Older men are the best, aren't they? All that experience…Don't worry, I won't tell Allison if you don't want me to."

Somehow, I managed to unglue my tongue from the roof of my mouth. "But… I'm not dating Derek."

"Oh, honestly. You don't have to pretend. Like I said, I'll keep my mouth shut." She mimed zipping her mouth, still looking mighty pleased with herself. "Oh, there's Allison. What took you so long?"

Allison – pretty, sweet, naïve Allison, shook her hair out of her jacket, pen clutched between her teeth as she opened her bag to drop it back in. "Sorry, Dad was just discussing plans. My aunt's in town, and Scott's coming over so –,"

For the second time in a span of ten minutes, my brain froze.

Kate… was already here?

That meant Derek would be here too. And if Derek came here, he'd hurt Jackson who would use that to connect the dots behind Scott's mysterious skills and then he'd demand a bite and turn into a kanima and –

"Madison? Hey, Madison? Oh, my god, how is she always zoning out?"

In a sharp contrast to Lydia's tone, Allison said: "Are you… okay?"

"Yeah," I exhaled, drawing my bag closer to my chest. "I just… have to go to the bathroom. I'll see you guys around."

I needed to plot.

{X}

I leaned against the bathroom stall, head in my hands.

Today was so, so important – important enough to perhaps change the very foundations of Beacon Hills. I didn't know how it hadn't struck me before. Because today, if, somehow, I managed to stop Derek from meeting Jackson in the hallways, there was a high chance Jackson would never find out about werewolves. And if he didn't find out, he wouldn't ask for a bite, and Derek wouldn't bite him.

And there'd be no kanima.

Half of Gerard's tyranny would end right there with that.

As far as I remembered, Derek had met Jackson minutes before the bell had rang, signalling the end of the day. Quickly, I pulled my timetable out, letting out a frustrated groan when I realized my last period was Maths. That teacher did not like me, and if he knew I was skipping…

Actually, wait, so what if he knew I was skipping?

He'd call Melissa? And please, all Melissa would do would be to give me a quick lecture. If nothing else, I could play the amnesiac card.

Making up my mind, I stuff the timetable back in. It was time to attend classes.

{X}

Scott leaned against my locker, trying to look all shades of nonchalant as he looked at Isaac across the hall. "You gonna talk to him?"

"I still have his notes," I said mildly, pulling them out of the locker. "But you're right – I should. Now seems like as good a time as any."

"You want me to come with?"

"No," I shook my head, flashing him a grateful smile nevertheless. "I'm just going to talk anyway. Besides," I added, as the overhead bell rang loudly, "You have class."

"Econ," Scott sighed, "Sometimes, I don't know if Finstock likes me or hates my guts."

"You're his star player. I doubt he hates you."

"Doubtful," Scott said, pushing himself off the wall. "He hates everyone."

I rolled my eyes as he waved me goodbye, shoving my hands into my pockets as I ruminated on how to approach Isaac. I could go, all guns blazing, or I could be myself. Either way, there was no avoiding it. Stop being a coward, a snide voice insisted in my head.

I paid heed to it.

"Hey, Isaac," I greeted, sidling up to him and pretending to not notice the way he had flinched slightly. "Here are your notes."

He took them from me in silence, and I actually thought that was it until he coughed slightly. "There was no test scheduled," He said after a pause.

Stellar observation skills there, Isaac. And oh, my god, the urge to be sassy really needed to stop.

"Yeah, there wasn't," I said instead, reminding myself that insulting someone's intelligence wasn't the way to make an ally out of them.

Isaac merely hummed, letting the silence drag on until: "Then…why?"

If I had been a smarter person, or perhaps even more experienced, I would've recognized the look in his eyes. And perhaps I wouldn't have done what I did next. But as it stood, I was kind of a novice when it came to relationships, and the first thing that came rushing through my mouth was the one thing I should've left alone.

"You're being abused at home," I said flatly, crossing my arms and ignoring the way he had flinched again. "So I decided to take a look around."

"I'm – I'm not being –,"

"These bruises on your face?" I pointed at the tell-tale markings. "This looks like someone's handprint. Also, you were limping yesterday, but when I asked Scott, he told me you've been on the bench so far. There's no way you've been hurt at lacrosse practise."

"I'm not being abused at home," Isaac insisted again, eyes wild and panicky. "I don't know how you've come to this conclusion, but I –,"

"Really? How did you get hurt then?"

"I t-tripped." A fine sheen of sweat lined his forehead.

"Look," I shifted on my feet, deciding to take a different mode of approach. "I only want to help, okay? I know the Sheriff, and he's a great guy. He'd love to –,"

"I - I don't know what you're talking about," He stuttered again, shaking his head quickly. "I told you –,"

"Isaac, I only want to help –,"

"You aren't helping!" He yelled suddenly, making me take a step back. Then he slammed his locker shut. "Stay – Stay away from me, okay? Just…" He started taking uncoordinated, clumsy steps backward. "You stay away."

"Isaac –,"

But it was of no use. He'd already gone.

"Shit," I cursed, slumping against the locker and burying my face in my hands. That could've gone better.

But it didn't matter. The cameras were working, and if not today, then we could break into the house to get them later. With a werewolf on my side, it was easy.

Still, I glanced at the empty hallway. I definitely could've handled this better. That small, nagging guilt in my chest followed me all the way to class, and then some.

{X}

"I kind of need your help," I said, pulling Boyd aside before Maths class. "I'm planning to skive Maths. Need you to cover for me."

Boyd looked nonplussed at my sudden request. "Why do you need to skive?"

"Um… things. You know, this and that. Frick and frack – not, oh my god, not frick-frack frick-frack, just –,"

"Hey, Maddy, it's okay if you don't wanna tell me," Boyd interrupted rather gently, his heavy hands settling on my shoulders to stop my ramble, "I'll still help, y'know?"

A fierce rush of gratitude coursed through my body, bringing almost unbidden tears to my eyes. His easy acceptance was something I'd never faced, in this life or my other. Truly, if I could stop Boyd from dying, I'd consider my work done. He deserved to live.

Hell, all of them deserved to live.

Completely oblivious to my sudden meltdown, Boyd continued: "By the way, you suck at avoiding questions. Might wanna work on that."

Oh, Boyd, you have no idea.

"So, what do you need me to tell her?"

"Just… say I had a headache and that I've gone to the hospital for a check-up. Side-effect of my accident and everything."

"Cool." He hesitated slightly before continuing. "Want me to copy notes for you as well?"

"That'd be much appreciated, yeah," I said, flashing him a quick smile. "Have fun in class!"

"You… have fun doing whatever the hell you're doing. See ya round, Maddy."

I waved back at him as he sped past, hefting my bag slightly once he'd turned around the bend. Then I started walking in the opposite direction, thanking the Gods that I knew where Jackson's locker was. I'd seen him and Lydia making out in front of it often enough.

I loitered in front of it awkwardly for barely two minutes until –

"What're you doing here?"

And fuck, it was my Maths teacher.

"Wait a second," Mr Smith said slowly, tilting his head to the side. "You're Madison Carter, aren't you? You have class with me right now."

"Ahh…" I trailed off, before pressing a hand to my forehead. "I actually have a headache, so if you could excuse me –,"

"Stop right there, young lady!" He snapped, and my feet froze. Shit, shit, shit. "You think I don't know what you're trying to do? I've been watching you for the past five minutes! You're waiting for your boyfriend, aren't you? So you can both skip class and do whatever you kids enjoy doing by being hooligans?"

"Actually –,"

"Not a word!" He grabbed my arm then, and began dragging me along.

"Sir –,"

"Also, Miss Carter?" He continued, ignoring my protests, "Detention. You can help me with the Parent-Teacher Meeting."

Jackson's locker disappeared from view as I was pulled into class.

And shit, nothing was going right today. I rubbed my face with my hands, frowning.

Boyd gave me a sympathetic look as I dropped into my seat.

{X}

There were five minutes for the bell to ring. I raised my hand.

"No, Miss Carter," Mr Smith said coolly before turning back to the blackboard.

"But –,"

"I said no."

{X}

Two minutes later, the Principal walked into our class. "Mr Smith, I need to talk to you."

"I'm in-between a class, Sir."

"Oh, Frank, let them go." He rolled his eyes, before giving us a small wink. "Two minutes won't hurt anyone and it's kind of urgent."

Seriously, this was the guy Gerard had harassed? My hatred for the geriatric old man flared anew.

"Very well, then." Mr Smith's nose curled slightly. "Off you go, then. Oh, and Madison?" My feet halted – I'd pretty much been the first one to shoot out of my seat. "I better see you around during the Meeting."

I bit back the urge to groan. "Yes, sir."

And then I was out, pretty much running through the corridors. When I turned around the bend, the area in front of Jackson's locker was empty.

My feet didn't stop, however.

Because there was a slumped body a few feet away.

"Derek!" I shouted, running towards him. Luckily, the corridors were empty, because I'm sure I looked a lot like those fancy damsels in period novels who run after their beaus. The thought made me wrinkle my nose as I knelt down next to him. "Are you okay?"

"Do I… look okay?" Oh, it was bad. His voice was scratchier than anything the show could've turned it into. Colour was leeching off his face – he already looked pallid and lifeless. There was also residual blood on his nails.

Fuck.

"Yeah, fair point," I acknowledged, trying to wedge my arm underneath his. After a moment, I gave up. He was far too heavy. "You need to help me here. Just… try getting up."

His head shot up suddenly, eyes wild and restless. It actually was like an animal being cornered. "Madison?" He asked suddenly, as if just realizing I was there. "What're you doing here?"

"I go to school here," And oh my god, my mouth needed to shut up. This wasn't the time to be sassy. "Listen, you need to get up." I looked around hurriedly. "Everyone's going to be coming out soon. Get up and I can take you home –,"

"I can't go back there," He said shortly, almost deliriously. He'd been listening in, I remembered suddenly, to a different conversation. Lydia and Allison – discussing the study date with Scott. I needed him to –

The bell suddenly rang, loud and sharp and clear.

He covered his ears instantly, shrinking into himself until it stopped. Meanwhile, I'd grabbed his arm again, pulling against his jacket. "Come on, then. Let's get out of here." He wavered dangerously as we started moving forward, luckily supporting most of his weight himself. Then just as quickly, he threw that arm I'd been holding around my shoulders.

I'm not proud to say that if it wasn't for his grip, I would've gone plummeting straight to the ground.

"Wow," I breathed, squished against him uncomfortably as we tried to find a rhythm. "You're fat."

That earned me a brief snort. Which, in a way, helped calm my nerves – because if he was lucid enough to scoff at my words, then he would be okay, right? In the show, he was okay. Oh, my god – what if, this time, he actually did have to cut his arm off?

Or if he died?

I derailed the thought before it could take off, focussing more on navigating the steps. Derek's heady, male scent surrounded me – accompanied by the distinct, pungent smell of death. Dying, my brain chanted again, unhelpfully. Dying, dying, dying.

I received a few odd stares as we staggered across to Stiles' car – including a bemused look from Boyd as we swept past. I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring grin. Then Derek suddenly wobbled again, and both of us slammed against the car as his weight gave way, his arm dragging me down with him.

"Shit," I cursed, letting my bag slip off my arms as I tried to steady myself. Or rather, steady us. It took all my strength to disentangle myself from him, and once I was done, he fell straight to the ground with a loud thud, face first.

Oops.

The sudden, reassuring whistling in the background stopped, followed by: "Madison?"

It was Stiles, his car keys still in his mouth. With a sheepish look, he dropped his hand.

"Stiles!" I almost hugged him. Almost. "Thank god you're here! It's Derek!"

"I can see that," With an almost imperceptible shake of his head, he rolled his eyes. "What's he doing on the ground? Is this a wolf thing I'm unaware of?"

"I think he's hurt," I bit my lip. "Look, can you just… help me pull him off the floor? He's kinda heavy."

Stiles still looked mighty reluctant. "Are you sure you wanna help him, though? Like, if you hadn't noticed, he's causing most of –,"

"Stiles."

"Alright, alright, fine, I'll help." Pointedly, he shoved his car keys into the pocket, muttering. "I know I'm gonna regret this."

Between us, we managed to grab either side of his arms and hauled. The bicep beneath my hands didn't even twitch as I panted helplessly, only resting once we'd shoved him into the passenger seat.

"I'm gonna get Scott, okay?" Stiles said once we were done, tossing his bag in the back of the Jeep. "Stay here. Keep an eye on him."

Like I had anywhere else to go, I wanted to quip, but I only made a shooing gesture with my hands. I bent down to pick up my bag next, going to imitate Stiles' throw when a hand wrapped around my arm in a vice-like grip.

"Dude!" I almost shouted, my heart jumping to my throat. Derek's glazed over eyes gave me a moment's perusal before going blue. And then flickered dangerously between blue and green. "Derek?"

"Call Scott," He rasped, still not letting go of my arm.

"Stiles is on it," I told him, trying my hardest to not make any sudden movements. They had this saying about wounded animals being twitchy and I wasn't ready to test that yet. "Could you… maybe let go of my arm? You're kinda cutting off my circulation."

He dropped it then, as if burned.

"What're you doing here?" Scott demanded suddenly from behind. Beside him, Stiles panted loudly.

"I was shot," Derek rasped again, looking worse than before. His skin looked ashen.

"He's not looking so good, dude."

Scott gave him a look – one that screamed 'No shit, Sherlock' before turning back to our resident werewolf. "Why aren't you healing?"

"I can't," Almost unconsciously, he rubbed against his right arm. Which was the arm, I realized guiltily, that I'd pulled at while hauling him into the car. "It was – It was a different kind of bullet."

"A silver bullet?" Stiles asked eagerly, leaning forward.

"No, you idiot." The scene would've made me smile if it wasn't for how dire it was. Funny, how sitting in front of a TV screen makes you so apathetic to most things.

"That's what she meant! When she said you had 48 hours!"

"Who?"

"The one who shot you, obviously," I muttered, hijacking the line. "What?" Scott gave me a look too. Perhaps somewhere along the lines of 'Must you be so sassy, he's dying'.

Really, Scott, he wasn't going to die. He had you – resident hero and True Alpha.

Not… that that was encouraging, given where I was standing.

Derek groaned again, eyes flickering. I promptly took a step back. "You guys see that? I'm scared of that."

"I won't hurt you, Madison," Derek said suddenly. I flinched slightly, not realizing he'd been paying attention to my nervous babbling. His eyes drifted to Scott. "You need to find out what kind of bullet she used."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"She's an Argent. She's with them!"

"Why should I help you?!"

Oh dear, déjà vu had never been so strong.

"Because you need me," Derek said simply. And he was right, sort of. Scott did need Derek to help him kill Peter. But then again, Derek needed Scott just as much. Symbiotic relationship, I'd call it.

"Fine," Scott exhaled, even as I pushed past him to enter the back of the Jeep.

"What?" I demanded when the two of them raised their eyebrows at me. "I need a ride to Deaton's, and I don't want to walk."

"Just get out of here." Scott actually rolled his eyes.

"I hate you so much," Stiles declared, starting the car.

{X}

"Right," I muttered, trying to not stare at Derek as he took off his jacket. "Dr Deaton's please."

"Are you serious?" Stiles demanded, actually whirling around to face me. "We have to take this guy home! He's ruining my car!"

"Home?" Derek asked suddenly, "Whose home?"

"Yours, obviously."

"What? You can't take me there!"

"Seriously?! I can't take you to your own house?"

"No. Not while I can't protect myself."

"Alright, boys!" I interrupted, my voice saccharine sweet. "Since you have nowhere to go, and nothing to do apart from bickering like teenagers, can you take me to the Animal Clinic? Some of us have jobs."

"You can't leave me here alone with him!" Stiles exclaimed, thumping his hand against the dash. "He's bleeding all over my car! You need to help me."

"As much as I'd love to," I began, faltering when Derek uncovered his arm to show us the festering, gaping hole in his skin. "That's disgusting, by the way."

Stiles echoed my comment, almost gagging as the Jeep was filled with the scent of rot and pus.

"Is… A normal bullet can't do that, right?" I asked hesitantly, wondering if there was a way to steer them towards the right one. I mean, what if Scott couldn't find the bullet this time round? "I mean, there are probably very few bullets out there that can do that."

"I don't trust the Argents," Derek said shortly, rolling his arm. "And neither should you." In the mirror, I saw his eyes flicker to mine.

Right… Sufficiently chastised, I leaned back into my seat.

If he didn't want my help, I sure wasn't offering it. Petty, yes, but he'd be fine. Worse comes to worse, they'd cut his arms off. He wouldn't actually die.

And wow, that was cold. I wrapped my arms around myself, as if warding from the proverbial chill. Honestly, what could I do? So far, I'd utterly failed at saving Jackson.

"So…" I took a deep breath, "Deaton's?"

{X}

Around 8, Dr Deaton finally, finally picked up his bags. "Thanks for the extra help, Madison!" He called out from the adjacent room while I started putting the boxes back into their places. "I promise, we're not usually open for so late –,"

"It's fine," I smiled, leaning down to top up an empty bowl of water, "Besides, it isn't exam season yet."

"Ah, yes, exams. I remember those days."

"Do you?" I asked teasingly, before straightening. "They must've been a long long time ago~" I added as I walked into the reception.

Deaton only laughed slightly, shaking his head. All in all, he was a pleasant person to work with. He was always ridiculously calm, put together and often, quite funny. They didn't show the latter in the show much.

"Alright then, young lady. Are you leaving now?"

"Nah," I brushed my hands against the counter. "I still have to put the dog food back. I'll lock the door on my way out."

"Okay," He called out a crisp Goodnight as he left, and it wasn't until I'd heard his car speeding away that I opened my cellphone.

Coast is clear.

Awesome. See you in five.

I exhaled slightly, leaning against the counter as I waited. Honestly, it had crossed my mind that we could've used Deaton's help, but then again, I doubted it. We needed the bullet. We needed Scott to find the bullet. There was probably no way around it.

And if there was, well, I'd already blown that opportunity.

Seconds later, the bell chimed as Stiles dragged Derek inside, his body stumbling beneath Derek's muscled weight. If I was the kind of person who shipped Sterek, I would've been taking a photo, I thought with a quirk of my lips as I leaped forward to help them. Between us, we finally managed to drop Derek against the operating table.

Derek groaned painfully as the edge of the table brushed against his wound.

"I'm sorry!" I breathed against his skin, still struggling beneath his weight. Then Stiles took pity on me.

"Call Scott," Derek breathed, ignoring my apology. His frantic eyes met mine. "Call Scott now."

I promptly rushed towards the cellphone. Stiles promptly opened his mouth.

"You're in no position to be giving orders okay, buddy? The way I see it –,"

"Stiles!"

"Ugh, fine, we'll help your boyfriend!" He snatched his phone from my hands, fingers flying across the keypad. "And for the record, I don't care if he helped you with Isaac – oh, hey buddy!"

I completely missed the rest of the conversation as my phone rang suddenly.

"Hello?"

"Madison?"

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes as Stiles made a show of mouthing 'Who is it'. "Who's this?"

"It's um… Isaac."

I almost dropped my phone in sheer surprise. "Isaac?!"

"Yeah. Um… So I was wondering… if you'd come for dinner?"

"Dinner?" I repeated, much like a talking parrot. Then my eyes narrowed. "I thought you never wanted to speak with me again."

"It's… my Dad. He thinks you're my girlfriend and he wants to meet you. Properly."

To be fair, alarm bells were ringing in my head. But then again, it was pretty likely that Coach Lahey thought I had a thing for his son. I'd pretty much dropped at his house after hours to meet Isaac, something no sane person had probably ever done before.

But to what end? Did he want me to date Isaac? Because if we dated, he'd have to know that I'd find the truth out somehow.

Or perhaps… Perhaps he wanted to scare me off him. A few scathing comments, a few ways to put his son down, and no normal girl would want to date Isaac anyway, would she?

My fingers tightened around the phone.

"I'll be there in ten."

"You're leaving us?" Stiles demanded once I'd cut the phone. "Again?!"

"It's for a good cause, I swear," I said, pocketing it quickly. Then I grabbed my bag.

"Madison," Derek rasped suddenly, raising his head. His eyes were sparkling blue. "Don't… do anything."

"It's just dinner," I said flippantly. "Just dinner. I'm taking your car, Stiles."

"You don't even have a license!"

"That's really not going to stop me."

Scott would find the bullet, I told myself as I exited the Clinic. He would. Everything had gone according to the show so far, so would this.

Everything but Isaac, I amended, starting the car.

{X}

A/N: Whoops.

Btw, I now have a beta - Maddie Rose! Everyone thank her for correcting my stupid mistakes. xD

Y'all should check out my her story too – Caudal Lure. It's a Scott/OC fic and it's awesome. Cheers.

(ALSO IMPORTANT: A lot of you wanna talk pairings. Frankly, this is an open area - I have no pre-decided plans to pair Madison up with anyone. So if you have something in mind, convince me. *winks*)