Sadie Bennet and the Wolf Pack

“So?" Stiles asked me. "How’d it go with Allison?” “It could have been worse. She apologized and…I’ve really missed her.” “We all have,” Scott agreed. I glared at the back of his head. “Yeah, well we all haven’t known about her moving to France in a couple days.” “Hold on, she’s doing what now?” Stiles asked, nearly turning all the way around in his seat. Scott actually lifted his arms over his head to shield himself. “I’m sorry! She asked me not to say anything until she had the chance to apologize to you!” “Yeah, and the only reason she had to apologize to me was because she jumped to conclusions after you asked me not to tell her the truth about her mom!” “Well didn’t she ask you not to tell me the truth about Matt?” “Yes, she did. Which I was also mad about.” “And then, you guys didn’t tell me about Peter.” “You were dealing with your mom. There wasn’t a good time to talk about it.” “There’s never a good time to talk about Peter. You should have told me anyway.” “Okay, fine! How about you never telling Stiles and I about your plan to stop Gerard? Which, incidentally, had been going on for months!” “It was only a back up plan! I wanted to have something as a last resort, just in case he tried to come after you for Kate. I didn’t say anything because I knew you weren’t gonna like it.” “Which is exactly why you should have told me!” “Guys!” Stiles interrupted, waving his hands wildly. “Is anyone else bothered by the fact that Allison didn’t feel the need to tell me she’s moving to another country?"

I stood there, staring in shock, until Lydia grabbed my arm to pull me into a bone-crushing hug. When she looked up at me, her eyes were still teary, but she had a smile a mile wide. “Thank you.” “Hey, don’t thank me. That was all you.” “I know, but—but if you hadn’t told me—” “Lydia, I should have told you a long time ago. No matter what anyone else told me to do. Then you might have been able to save the day a lot sooner. I’m just glad you’re both okay.” I hugged her again, grinning at Jackson over her shoulder. “So? How’s it feel to come back from the dead twice in one night?” “Honestly? Really shitty.” He walked over to us and laid a hand on Lydia’s back. His touch instantly magnetized her, pulling her to his side again as she held on for dear life. “It’s been a pretty fucked up night.” “Tell me about it,” I said with a snort. “But seriously. Thanks…thanks for not giving up on me.” “Well…thanks for proving us right.” We smiled awkwardly at each other for a few seconds, until Lydia lifted her head up from his shoulder. She gave me a pointed look. “Sadie. Hug him.” “…What?” “You heard me. Hug him. He’s been through a lot today.” “Yeah, uh—you know, I would love to do that, except that Jackson’s sort of naked right now? And that’s—that’s not something I want to be a part of.” “Hey, nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said with a smirk. “I know I’m hot.” I rolled my eyes, repressing a gag. “See? He’s perfectly fine. Completely back to normal. I do not need—Lydia, no!” But it was too late. She’d already grabbed my hand with a mischievous smile of her own. With one good yank, I went tumbling into their group hug. I squealed in protest, but with Lydia cackling next to me, it was hard to be mad. I hugged them, my head bumping into Jackson’s as we laughed, reveling in the fact that we even could be laughing, hugging. It was like the previous summer, before the werewolves, before the hunters, back when everything was normal. Except this time, of course, I had several knives strapped to my legs, Lydia could resurrect the dead, and Jackson was a werewolf. And he was also naked. “Alright, alright, I hugged him. Glad you’re okay. I’m gonna give you guys some space.”

“Sadie?” Stiles asked warily. “What…?” The moment I reached for his bloody pantleg, Stiles pushed my hands away. I tried again, but he flinched back, grabbing my wrists so I couldn’t continue. I looked up at him in confusion, but the broken, guilty look in his eye told me all I needed to know. “Sadie, don’t—” I ripped my hands out of his grasp and pushed his shorts up. There were two slashes in the skin of his thigh, bloody but no longer bleeding. They weren’t deep, not enough to prevent him from walking, but deep enough to scar if he didn’t get the right treatment. The severity of the cut didn’t worry me. That wasn’t the reason that my jaw dropped in horror, or that tears sprang into my eyes. The two cuts were crisscrossed, forming a large X. Stiles grabbed my hands again, stopping me from investigating any further, but it was too late. I didn’t need my hands to see the dark stain on his jersey, the trace of blood that was staining the twenty-four from the inside. He had a cut there, too, probably the same shape. One in the leg. One in the shoulder. “Sadie, hey.” Stiles slid his hands up my arms, trying to force me to look at him. “Sadie, it doesn’t matter, okay? I’m right here. I’m fine.” “They know. He—he took you, and he did this—he knows—” “Sadie, look at me. It doesn’t matter, okay? They let me go—” “Because of me! He did this to you because of me and because he knows and because he wants me to be scared and he wants me next and you’re hurt and it’s my fault and—” Stiles leapt from his seat, crushing me into a hug as the world began to spiral. He was bleeding, and he was hurt, and it was my fault. I had shot Kate, and she’d died, and it was my fault. Derek had bitten Victoria, and she’d killed herself, and it was my fault. I’d lied to Allison, and she’d told Gerard, and he’d tortured Stiles, and it was my fault. It was my fault, my fault, my fault…

“Stiles!” At the last possible moment, Stiles flung his lacrosse stick. And the ball went into the goal. The sound was deafening. Everyone was screaming in joy, in shock, in complete and utter surprise. Sheriff Stilinski was laughing in maniacal relief, and Coach Finstock looked like his legs were about to give out beneath him. I jumped so high that I could have cleared his head. “Yes! You did it! Oh my God, you fucking did it! Whoo! Oh my God! Stiles! Scored! A goal!” I spun around on the bench, shaking my sign at the crowd who was still screaming and clapping along. I only stopped to breathe when Coach Finstock physically pulled me down from the bench, grinning, but still looking disapproving. “Okay, Bennet, we get it. He scored the goal. Get back to your seat.” “He scored a goal!” “Yes, I know. It was very good.” “He scored a goal!” “Yeah, Bennet, and we’ve still got four minutes left.” “He scored a freaking goal!” “Bennet, get out of my face before I bench you! I mean—you know what I mean! Get out of here!”

“Look, Sadie, I—I really just came by because I wanted to say thank you.” “You don’t have to—” “Yes, I do.” His tone made me look up in surprise. He was serious now. No goofy smile, no sweet stuttering. He took a few steps toward me, his eyes fixed on his hands. “Sadie, you’ve been…great. Through all this. Making sure we were okay, bringing us food, telling Derek to lay off when he was being an asshole. I know I’ve been kind of shitty about it, but I know you’ve always cared. Even before the bite, back when I was just a loser with a broken bike and uh…an abusive dad. You always took the time to say hi, check in with me. And that kind of kept me going, you know? It made me…I don’t know. I guess it made me feel important. And happy. So, thanks for always looking out for me.” “Well…it’s been my pleasure.” I said it softly, still a bit bewildered. I’d spent a lot of time this year wishing that I could do more for Isaac, really be there for him the way he deserved. It was nice to know that he’d appreciated the little I’d managed to do, but I wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. Isaac grinned again, finally looking up at me. “You’re really great, Sadie. And incredibly sweet. And you also just attacked me, which I still think is pretty awesome.” “Isaac, you don’t have to—” “No, I want to say this. I know it’s stupid, and I know you probably already know, but I want to say it before I leave. So please just stand there, and…let me do that. Please.”

“Wait, okay,” I said, my head snapping up. “Okay, I know where to start! The flash drive. I gave you the flash drive.” “The one full of archaic Latin?” “Yes, that one! You translated some for us, and then a few days ago you said that you had translated a bit more on your own. Do…do you remember that?” “Yes, Sadie,” she said rolling her eyes. “I remember the Latin.” “Okay, well…that…all of that is uh…real.” Lydia stared at me blankly. I suddenly had a newfound appreciation for Stiles, and the way he’d patiently explained werewolves to me in the beginning. I’d have to remember to kiss him after this. “Right. And…you think I’m the kanima?” “No,” I said resolutely. “Well, we thought you were for a while. I didn’t, but some people did, but it doesn’t matter anymore because you’re not.” “Then what the hell happened to me on my birthday?” “On your birthday, you…drugged all of us and brought a man back from the dead.” Lydia’s blank look got blanker. “Excuse me?” “Yeah. You—well, you know how you’ve been having those nightmares ever since formal? About the guy who attacked you on the lacrosse field? Well, he was actually a really powerful werewolf, and he bit you, and then we killed him, but somehow he got in your head and started controlling you, I guess? Anyway, he was dead, and now…he is not…” She stared at me in complete silence, her lips tight and her hands folded in her lap. “Yeah, this is why I didn’t tell you.” Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose, hard. “I cannot believe I’m actually about to sit here and listen to this.”

“Don’t. Sadie, it was not your fault.” “I should have done more.” “Sadie, stop. You can’t blame yourself for that.” “Stiles, you don’t even know what I’m talking about.” “I don’t need to. I know that you’ve got a big heart, and for some reason that comes attached a guilt complex the size of Texas, and a pain in the ass determination to take care of everyone around you. Nine times out of ten, I’m willing to bet that whatever you think is your fault isn’t really your fault at all.” I couldn’t decide if I wanted to cry in relief or fury. Punching him and cuddling him both seemed like pretty good options, but Stiles still had one of my hands wrapped up in his, the other playing with a strand of my hair. “Scott told me what he heard at Lydia’s party. When you were talking to…whatever that stuff made you see. So I’ve got a pretty good idea what you’re talking about, and you need to know that it’s not your fault. At all. You didn’t hold those people hostage, you didn’t have that gun, and the guy that did is in jail. You didn’t do anything wrong.” “I listened.” “You…what?” “I listened. I sat there and listened to my Dad die and I didn’t…”

“Allison, I’m so—” “Don’t!” The arrow brushed my skin, threatening to slice through flesh until Allison forced herself back. “Just…don’t. I know how you are with Derek. You treat him like family, and he treats you like his sister. He told you, and you—you did nothing. You did nothing to save her.” “That is not what happened, Allison! I didn’t know that he bit her. All I knew was that they fought because—” “And you didn’t tell me!” she shrieked. “Because you care about him, and Derek—no, Derek is just misunderstood. He could never do anything wrong. The two of you are—you’re exactly the same! You run around and you attack and you hurt people because you think you’re so right, and it doesn’t matter who else gets hurt! Well you know what, Sadie? He bit my mother, and now my mother is dead. S-she—she killed herself, because she didn’t want to chance being a monster like him. My mother is dead. And that’s your fault.” I gaped at her. “N-no. Allison, no, I didn’t—” “You didn’t do anything?” She laughed derisively, then leaned closer to hiss in my face. “Now where have I heard that before? You…you didn’t kill my mother, just like you didn’t kill Kate. And somehow they’re both dead because of you.” My lip trembled. I wanted to argue with her, but my mouth couldn’t move. Allison’s eyes were ice, freezing me solid as she held her bow at my throat. I felt the sting as it scratched along my skin, just short of drawing blood. “When I find Derek, I am going to kill him. And if you get in my way again, I will not hesitate to kill you too.”

“Tell me…tell me that what just happened isn’t what I think it is.” “Sadie…” Deaton’s soothing tone wasn’t working. It was water that was meant to put out a fire. But I was burning gasoline. “Tell me that after everything I told you, every time I asked you for help and you didn’t tell me anything, that Lydia did not come here and bring Peter fucking Hale back from the dead!” I rounded on him, charging forward with every intention of throwing him into the grave that Peter had just vacated. Derek was holding me back, the gun already knocked out of my hand so I couldn’t do more harm than screaming. And I did scream, so much that I wasn’t even sure what I was saying. Deaton didn’t move. He didn’t even take a step back. He just watched me, looking a little sad, and ever so infuriatingly calm. “And you!” I spun around in Derek’s grip, catching him by surprise as I shoved him back. I punched him with all my strength. He fell hard, smashing through an ancient chair. I knew he was weak, but all I could register was the rush from finally getting a reaction out of what was usually such a strong, immovable force. “What about ‘that’s not possible’?! What about ‘I’ve never heard of that’?! You just wouldn’t—fucking—listen to me!” I sent a kick at his body, and just managed to roll out of the way, sending pieces of chair everywhere. “Sadie, stop! I didn’t know! I’m just as surprised as you are! Stop!” “Why didn’t you listen to me?!”

“God, you’ve gotten so big! It’s only been a year. How the hell’ve you grown so much?” I tried to apologize, but I couldn’t find the words. Tears were slipping over my lips, making it hard to form any kind of consonants. Dad just hugged me and kissed the top of my head. “Aw, sweetheart, you don’t have to cry. It’s okay. I’m here. I’ve got you.” “I—I m-miss you.” “I know, baby. I miss you too. But you know what?” He gently took my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You’ve done good. I mean it. Look around! You still got your mom, you’ve got your friends. You’ve got this big…bear thing from a guy that loves you.” “I wish you were here.” “Yeah. I wish I was here too. That’s why I came. To find out why.” “W-what?” I blinked. He was still smiling down at me, but he’d dropped his arms. He took a step forward and on some unknown instinct, I took a step back. “Why, Sadie? If you want me here so badly, why didn’t you do anything?” “I—I don’t know—what are you talking about?” “Sadie, don’t be like that,” he said, chuckling softly. “I just want to know. Why’d you let me die?” “No.” The word barely came out, invisible between the gasps of air I was forcing into my chest. “Dad, no. Don’t say—I didn’t! No! Daddy, I didn’t!” “Sadie, it’s already done.” He was yelling at me over my heavy breathing, but he never lost that smile. “Baby, I’m already gone. I can’t come back. Don’t you think I want to? I wanted to watch you grow up, to be with your mother. But I can’t. Because I’m dead.”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” “I'll be fine, Mom. Stiles and Scott and Allison are all coming to the party, I’ll keep an eye on Lydia, and I’ll even put post-it notes up so I remember to check in with you every now and then.” “That’s not a bad idea, but…it’s not exactly what I meant.” I looked intently down at the carpet. “Yeah, I know.” “It’s just…I think it’s really sweet that Lydia wants to throw this party for you, but that doesn’t mean you have to go along with it. It’s going to be a hard year. It’s been hard already, with all the craziness around here, but without your father…” “It’s not just my party, Mom. This is Lydia’s party. She’s had a hard year too, and if she wants a normal birthday, I’m gonna make sure she gets one.” “I know how much you love Lydia, honey. I just don’t want you to bury everything you’re feeling for her sake. Grieving is normal, healthy. I’m sure Lydia would understand if—" “Can we not do this?” Mom blinked down at me, and I instantly regretted my harsh tone, but the growing feeling of nausea was making it hard to control. “I just…I can’t right now. I don’t want to think about Dad. It’s…it is my best friend’s birthday, and she has been hospitalized twice, and lost a whole lot of her friends, and gotten dumped by her piece of shit boyfriend, and all this other crap that…I don’t even know. And I’ll be damned if I’m anything less than a ray of fucking sunshine today. I don’t want to talk about it right now. I…can’t.” My mother pursed her lips. She moved her hands back to her keyboard and nodded stiffly. “Okay. We’ll talk later.” “Mom, I’m sorry. It’s just—” “I know, Sadie. I understand. We can talk about it another time.”

“Allison, this is serious! I’m—sorry, I know you know that, but honestly. Matt is stalking you. That is an invasion of privacy, and voyeurism, and trespassing, and a whole bunch of other creepy shit. At the very least we get him on harassment charges so—” “I don’t have any proof,” she sighed, wiping her hands down her face. “Then I’ll talk to Stiles’s dad. We could probably get you a protective deputy for at least a while—” “Sadie, stop.” I looked over at her in surprise. Allison’s voice was steady, the heels of her hands digging into her eye sockets. She shook her head in despair. “The sheriff’s department doesn’t have any men to spare with Jackson on the loose. And the last thing I need is the police watching my family when they’re using military-grade weapons to hunt down a teenager.” “That’s…okay, that’s fair enough.” I folded my legs underneath me, leaning over to rest my side against hers. “You could tell your parents, then. They’ve certainly got the firepower to keep a creepy teenage boy away.” “They’re already busy trying to take down the kanima. They’ve got more important things to worry about.” “Ally, you’re their daughter. I mean, no offense, your grandfather’s very creepy and focused on this, but your parents…you have to know they’d drop everything for this. Seriously, your mother just—” I stopped short, the image of Scott’s unconscious body flashing before my eyes. I knew he’d be okay, but I’d promised that if he lived, I wouldn’t tell Allison about how her mother had just tried to kill him. She needed to hear the story from Scott, and I wasn’t going to meddle with that. “Your mother just terrifies me,” I said instead, “and she and your dad have made it very clear that they’re willing to do just about anything to keep unwanted boys away from you. They’ll do anything to protect you.” “I’m not worried about getting hurt. I can take care of myself.” “Allison…you don’t have to.”

“Listen to me, Stiles. I…you might regret telling me about werewolves, but…I don’t. I never have. Not once.” Stiles shook his head. He looked so fragile, so small, that I wondered if I shouldn’t just sit in the van with my mouth closed for the rest of the night. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t spoken in several hours rather than a few seconds. “How can you not hate all of this? This…sucks…” “I hate parts of it,” I agreed softly. “I hate that all these people have died, and I hate watching my friends in pain, but if it was a choice between this and not knowing? Standing by while Peter and Jackson and whoever else ruined my friends’ lives? I would choose this. Every time.” I tried to sound as confident as I could, but Stiles still didn’t look up. Grasping at straws, I took a hesitant step forward. “Stiles, if you want to blame someone, blame Peter. What I told you that day was true: he attacked my friends, targeted Lydia and Allison and Jackson just to get to Scott. There’s no way I wouldn’t have gotten involved. I mean, we both know how stubborn I am. If you hadn’t told me, I would have kept looking for answers on my own, and I probably would have gotten them when Peter sliced my throat for getting in the way.” “Don’t say that.” “It’s true! Stiles, you telling me what was out there prepared me for what was coming. Being with you is the reason I’m alive right now. All of us are alive. And I know it may not feel like it, but we are saving people. Someday your dad is gonna know that, and he’s going to be so, so proud. God, he is going to be so proud of you for going through hell to protect people. You are amazing, Stiles, and we are going to be okay. I promise we’ll make this okay, because your dad loves you, and I love you, and I am not giving up on you no matter how bad things get.” “…What did you just say?”

“Sadie, please! I don’t know how to stop it!” “How to stop what? Lydia, what’s going on?” “He—he won’t stop talking to me. He’s always talking to me. I don’t understand. And his—his eyes—I just want him to go away. Please make him go away, Sadie.” My first instinct was to ask when Jackson had started bothering her. Last I checked, they hadn’t really spoken since the day of the break in, when they’d fought and then kissed. Now she couldn’t get rid of him? But the longer I stared at her, the colder my heart grew. The nightmares, her terror, his eyes—I knew exactly who she was talking about. I was overcome with another wave of hatred for him. Even death didn’t stop him from hurting my friends. In that moment, staring down at Lydia as she unraveled, I was ready to watch Peter Hale burn to death all over again. I pulled Lydia to my chest, letting her sob into my shoulder. “I know, Lyd. It’s okay. He’s gone. He’s not real.” “You don’t understand,” she wept. “He is! He is real! Everything is so real, and I—I don’t want to believe him!” “Lydia, what is he telling you?” “That…that you’re lying to me. He says that you’re dangerous and that you’ve killed people and that…you’re the reason he attacked me…” My blood turned to lead in my veins. Peter roaring as I emptied a magazine into his chest. Kate bleeding on the ground in front of me, screaming as I shot her in the shoulder. Me, shivering on the lacrosse field under Peter’s pleasant smile as he offered me an ultimatum: accept the bite or let Lydia be teared apart. I’d never told Lydia that part of the night. So how did she know now? “I don’t want to listen to him, Sadie,” she whimpered into my shoulder. “I don’t! I just want him to go away!” “Okay, Lydia, listen to me.” I took a deep breath and pulled out of the hug so I could look her in the eye. I held her face in my hands and wiped the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs. “He is not real. You know why? Because you beat him. You beat him, Lydia. You survived the attack, and he’s gone. So next time you see him, you tell him: ‘Sadie said you’re not real. So you can fuck off.’”

"Well, I think it's good you're hanging out with Erica before the rave." Scott smiled with a pride that lit up his face. "We're gonna need to get along if we're gonna work together, and you're really good at that. Sometimes we need new friends." "Speak for yourself," Stiles snorted. "I'm all set with the friends I have." He held up a hand so I could high-five him, then held his fist out to Scott for a bump. Scott stared at him flatly until Stiles reluctantly lowered his hand. "Speaking of other people," Scott continued, turning back to me, "how long have you known about Allison and Matt?" He didn't seem upset, just curious, but the question still made me grimace; I hated being caught in a lie. "She...I'm sorry, Scott. Allison told me a few days ago, but she was waiting for the right time to tell you. For the record, I told her I was totally against it. Obviously." "No, it's fine. I actually told her...it was okay. With her parents on our case, it's probably better for her to give other people a chance." "Matt is not people," Stiles grumbled. "He is a conniving little weirdo and I don't like him." Scott ignored the outburst. Clearly Stiles had already made his opinion on the situation well known, and Scott wasn't looking to hear it again. "Did she tell you what they have planned?" "Unfortunately, no," I huffed. "She seemed to be laboring under the impression that I would sabotage on your behalf, and she wanted to have a normal date for once. She wouldn't tell me the time or place, just in case I got any ideas." Scott nodded, then looked hesitantly back at me. "You wouldn't actually do that, would you?" "You bet your sweet ass I would," I said with a grin.

“So! Are you excited for your study date with Stiles?” “I guess?" I answered weakly. "I mean, I love spending time with Stiles. Part of me doesn’t see what the big deal is, and the other part feels so nervous that I want to puke and die.” “Okay, well there’s no need to be that nervous.” Allison laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “It’s okay though. Even if Lydia's been out of it, I will be excited enough for all three of us, and I will be right by your side to coach you through the whole thing…until the actual study date starts. I love you, but I don’t want to be there for that.” She tousled my hair and released me so she could open her locker. I grinned, watched her closely as she spun in her combination, totally focused on her books and what she needed to get through the day. “You’re really important to me, you know that?” Allison paused for a moment and looked at me with surprise, then a slightly confused smile. “You’re important to me, too.” “Sorry,” I chuckled, shaking my head at myself. “This whole thing with Lydia’s just got me…” “Sadie, I get it. All of us feel bad about it, but I know that everything happening to Lydia is hardest on you. You’re my best friend, and I’m here for whatever you need.”

Scott got up from the library table with a forced smile and, after a moment of hesitation, headed out into the hallway. I shared a worried look with Allison on the other side of the room before turning back to Stiles. "They don't have security cameras in the locker rooms, right?" Erica scrunched up her nose. "They can't. That's like…illegal, right?" "Yeah, well Gerard doesn't exactly strike me as the most law-abiding citizen, what with the swords and murder and all," Stiles sighed. "I really hope there aren't cameras in there. I have done some things I am really not proud of, and I don't want to think about the principal getting to see all my business without getting me dinner first." "Is your mind always in the gutter?" I asked, making him grin. "Eh, only about half of the time." "Liar. Sixty-five percent, at the very least." "Deal. On a…you know, tangentially related note, picking up on our earlier conversation about studying, when do you—" "Not now, Stiles." "Well, obviously not now but—" "Stiles. Not. Now." I gave him a pointed look, tilting my head ever so slightly in Erica's direction. Sure, I didn't like her, but I wasn't about to start scheduling dates right in front of her. Nevertheless, Erica was looking between us with pursed lips. "Oh no, don't stop on my account. I'll worry about the demon-lizard murdering civilians. You two continue flirting, by all means."