𝟑𝟎 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒐

✯☾✯

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 at the sheet of paper and then back at three mischievous looking teens, "Boy, it's a good thing you drew me a picture..."

Scott glanced down sheepishly at the reminder of his scrappy drawing of two block lines.

"Hey, Scott!" Stiles called over to where Scott was sat from the table covered in examples of past work and sketches, "Sure you don't want something like this?"

Stiles, with a flickering glint in his eye, held up a drawling of a lizard looking creature that resembled a particular supernatural beast no one ever wanted to see again.

When Scott narrowed his eyes, unimpressed, Stiles deflated, pouting, "Too soon? Yeah?"

Stiles placed the slightly crinkled peace of paper in its original place and picked up a binder instead, flicking through all the designs, "I don't know, man. Are you sure about this? I mean, these things are pretty permanent, you know?"

"I'm not changing my mind," Scott repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. He'd grown tired of Stiles' constant attempts to put him off the idea of getting a tattoo. He'd mostly ignored his warnings and spitting of facts about the risks because Stiles Stilinski was both a wuss and an over thinker.

"Okay, but why two bands?" Stiles pressed in a judgemental tone.

Scott shrugged, "I just like it."

The tattooist began to prep Scott's toned bicep with antiseptic wipes. Whether it was a wolf thing or the fact Scott had spent most of his summer in the gym, the boy had grown some serious muscles on him.

And, he wasn't the only one who's changed as junior year Stiles was looking a lot different to sophomore Stiles. His hair was no longer buzzed and had grown out nicely into dark messy mop. His cheek bones had become more prominent, changing his face shape slightly. He definitely looked older.

"But don't you think your first tattoo should have some sort of meaning? You know, or something?" Stiles commented, still not fully convinced.

The dim lighting in the parlour did nothing to hide Scott's eye roll, "Getting a tattoo means something."

"I don't think that's-" Stiles started to argue.

"He's right," The tattooist cut him off, barely looking up from the needles and ink. "Tattooing goes back thousands of years. The Tahitian word tatua means "to leave a mark," like a rite of passage- oh my god."

The sound of drilling came from the corner of the room, hidden in the shadows. Through the darkness, a small figure could just be made out.

The figure stepped into light and Lizzie smiled at them all before looking back at the drill in her hand, confused.

The tattooist jumped up from his stool and rushed over to take the dangerous equipment off her.

"Lizzie, please stop touching things that aren't yours," Scott scolded, causing Lizzie to bow her head regretfully.

"Sorry."

Lizzie had not changed, apart from the fact she'd had to get reading glasses to wear every now again, she was exactly the same height and looked pretty much the same.

"Okay, are you ready," The large man asked when he'd sat back down and everything was set in place and not in the hands of oblivious teenage girls. Scott turned away at the sight of the tattoo needle in the man's hand and cleared his throat.

"You ain't got any problems with needles, do you?"

"Nope." Scott spoke shakily, trying to hold his dignity. Stiles, on the other head, didn't even know the meaning of it.

"I tend to get a little squeamish, though, so..."

It took a single needle for Stiles to collapse to the floor in disgust. Lizzie watched in fascination, asking the tattooist questions now and then.

It seemed Stiles' fears developed and mutated into whines and complains and only when he was back in his jeep did he calm down.

But, his words were overshadowed by Scott's small hisses of pain from the passenger seat.

"I don't think it's supposed to feel like this." Scott scrunched his face up, glaring at the bandaged spot on his arm where he'd just had a needle stabbed into more times than he blinked.

"Oh, god," Stiles grumbled at the sight of the McCall boy's pain.

"I gotta take this thing off." Scott said, much to Stiles' horror.

Lizzie grimaced at the over dramatized begs from Stiles and then at the skin beneath Scott's bandage.

The flesh around the tattoo was far from the sun kissed norm and instead red raw. As for the black bands, they were disappearing rapidly. Scott's werewolf healing system had kicked in.

"No, no, come on!" Scott threw his head back in disappointment.

"It healed?" Lizzie leaned through the small gap from the back seat to get a closer look.

Stiles tried to bite his tongue and hold back but his filter only lasted so long, "Thank God, I hated it."

Scott's head snapped towards the boy, breathing out angrily.

"Sorry," Stiles apologised as he started the jeep up.

The baby blue vehicle glided through the darkness, its headlights piercing the night, casting a soft, cool glow on the road ahead.

Lizzie wound down the window, soothing air hitting her straight in the face.

The moonlight danced on the glossy surface, while the hum of the engine blended harmoniously with the nocturnal symphony.

Carefully, she slunk her arm out of the window, opening her palm up the moon. She watched happily as the light began to seep up to the crevices of her palm, through her fingernails.

"Oh my god!"

The jeep pulled to a sudden stop at a red light. The illuminated sphere in Lizzie's hand enlarged as she was thrown backwards, the light shining in her eyes.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" She scrunched her eyes up and pressed her fists into them.

"Can we just drive please, Stiles!"

"Scott, it's a red light!"

Lizzie braved opening one eye, ignoring the sting at the sound of the arguing.

Scott was sitting rigidly in his seat and looking straight ahead whereas Stiles was leaning over him and winding his window down.

Lizzie leaned over on her side as she realised a second car was at the stop light, Allison and Lydia.

Although it was awkward between Allison and Scott, Lizzie was most definitely still friends with her.

While Stiles took the approach of shouting greetings at them, Lizzie waved feebly from the back seat, through, what she didn't realize were, black out windows.

The awkward tension was most definitely to much for Allison and Lydia as they drove straight through as soon as the clear red light. Stiles did the same as soon as the colour morphed into a vibrant greem, trailing behind them unknowingly.

"What are you doing?" Scott spluttered, concerened with the fact that it looked exactly like they were following the girls.

"I'm driving...?" Stiles looked confused at Scott's freak out.

Scott was both visibly distressed and mortified at what the situation could look like, "We're right behind them."

Stiles scoffed at his statement, "Okay, well, do you see any turns?"

The Stilinski boy gestured to the straight road ahead, leading into nothing but darkness.

"I don't want it to look like we're following them..." Scott whined, fearing he would become more of an oddity to Allison than he feared he already was.

Sighing, a perplexed Stiles glanced around for options, "Well, what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know! Anything!" Scott pressed, sat completely tensed up and growing frustrated.

With a loud screech, Stiles slammed his foot on the brakes and the wheels briskly ground to a stop, leaving them motionless on an empty highway.

"It feels like we're in The Hills Have Eyes," Lizzie piped up, blinking absently at Allison and Lydia's car as it continued forward before halting more smoothly than the trinity had.

"Who let you watch that movie?" Stiles turned to face the girl, taking his eyes away from the road for a split second.

It was Scott who sensed it first, a galloping beast appearing out of no where, it's sights set on the first vehicle it came across. There was a worrying crash and the sound of shattering glass as it collided, antlers first, with Lydia's windshield.

The girls screamed and threw themselves out the car, a baffled Scott and Stiles did the same, rushing to console the bewildered pair.

Lizzie exited the jeep in a hurried manner although it took her longer as she had to climb over the seats and eventually tumble out. She ran the short distance to get to the rest of the group and dished out her check ups on everyone.

Her expression was pressured with concern as she surveyed the chaotic scene. Shards of glass were scattered along the rough concrete, few speckled with the deer's blood.

Lydia seemed the most shaken up, her eyes were watery and wide, her mouth gaping open, "Well, I'm not okay! I am totally freaking out! How the hell does it just run into us? I saw its eyes right before it hit us, and it was like it... It was like it was crazy.

"No, it was scared," Scott corrected her, his wolf senses connecting to the fallen animal as he took a closer look, "Actually, terrified."

"Poor deer," Lizzie softly empathised in a small voice, skirting around the quartet and towards the front of Lydia's wrecked car. She let the corners of her mouth drop into a sad frown when she saw the state of the being and calmly rested her hand on the deer's fury coat, waiting for the purple to come flooding through to make things better.

"Lizzie, it's dead, baby," Lydia's heels clacked against the ground, her blue floral dress swaying in the wind. She was followed by Stiles and the two of them gently pulled the pixie away.

✯☾✯

Isaac Lahey's eyelids fluttered, heavy and weighed down by the overwhelming disorientation. Blinking against the loudly painful overhead lights, he squinted around the room as he allowed his eyes to adjust.

His vision began to clear. Pasty walls, blue accents, worn out furniture. The sound of the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor came into focus. That and the soft breaths coming from the girl sat beside his bed.

Her dainty head rested on her crossed arms against Isaac's stomach, her back rising and falling in time with her breathing.

Her hair was messy and the flower clips she'd used to pull it back were clinging on to single strands tiredly.

Isaac smiled at the sight of the freckled girl, gently shifting in the uncomfotable hospital bed. Lizzie stirred quietly but only began to properly awake as the boy she was half laying on began to push her curled, dark hair from her face.

"No thank you," She murmured quietly, obviously not wanting to open her eyes as she twisted her head the other way.

Isaac laughed lightly at her, wrapping his fingers around her upper arm and tugging her up, slowly encouraging her to pull herself along the bed. She did so, moving sleepily and at snails pace, eventually tumbling down beside Isaac.

Pulling her against him at an angle that didn't affect the deep laceration that had got him into this facility in the first place, he dropped his head down atop of Lizzie's.

"You scared me, thought you were really hurt," Isaac heard the pixie mumble.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, pressing his cold lips to her crown. A vibrant, lilac glow emerged from in between them and Isaac felt the cuts and scratches healing faster than he was already working on.

The couple stayed cuddled up together, a tangled mess of limbs, until Melissa McCall slunk into the room after making sure she'd be Isaac's nurse seeing as any other one would be rather confused as to why he'd healed so fast.

"Yeah... Yeah, that's healing," Melissa voiced her observations and clicked the buttons of Isaac's hospital gown back together, "Visibly. They can't see this. Nobody can see this."

"All right," Isaac agreed, nodding hurriedly, "We'll cover it up."

Melissa took a step back nervously, her worry and discomfort with this whole new world shown in her expression, "I don't think that's gonna matter...I mean, you're scheduled for surgery, which is obviously gonna be very confusing for a lot of people."

"Okay, can you do something?" Isaac asked hopefully.

"Me do something?" Melissa reapted the request back to herself increadoulsly, "I'm relatively new to all of this, and there's a Sheriff's deputy that's stationed right outside the door-"

Lizzie moved quickly from behind the McCall woman to her side, nudging her arm and interfering before Melissa spiralled, "Maybe I can do something? I can call Scott?"

Melissa took a deep breath to calm herself down and glanced at Isaac. Lizzie herself wasn't in the best headspace either, the reason Isaac had been hurt and the run in he'd had with whom he'd yet to tell Lizzie about, occured in his search for two missing people.

Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd had both promised Lizzie they'd keep in touch with her, maybe facetime her every now and then but nothing had been followed up. No one had heard a peep from either and with the threat of hunters or other wolves, Derek had confirmed them missing.

"Yeah," Isaac reitterated, "Call Scott."

Melissa forced a weak but grateful smile, nodding at Lizzie to exit the room and find a place to call Scott. Melissa followed her out but they split their ways.

Lizzie headed for the spot near Davis' old room to call her friend as she knew it had good service. Her plan was to alert Scott and return to Isaac via the vending machine to aquire snacks for him.

✯☾✯

It took Lizzie a lot longer than she expected to get through to Scott because she'd forgotten the boy was on a drive for academic sucsess this year and had probably turned his phone off. Of course Lizzie was likely not going to match his attitude as she was missing the first day back.

So, she'd decided the call the school office and pull the old 'hold your nose and speak in a funny voice' trick which eventually worked and Scott was sent for.

The pixie had practically fallen back asleep by the time she heard Scott's voice echo down the line. She informed him of what had happened in as short of a summary she could muster and within ten miniutes, the teen wolf had arrived at Grady Memorial Hospital.

Lizzie pushed herself up the brick wall she'd slunk down on and grabbed Scott's hand to lead him through the busy reception area.

"He's in 215," Lizzie informed him, "Although, he might be in surgery. If he is, we're toast."

Scott nodded solemnly as the pair fast-walked down a scarce hallway towards the elevator. The button was pressed and they jumped into the small box.

Scott pressed a second button and the doors began to close very slowly and just as they were about to bang shut, something got in between them. A stick.

A white cane belonging to a man who stood in the entrance way to the elevator, his eyes covered by dark glasses. The blind man sidled his way into the elevator, using his cane to show him the way.

"Would you hit the button for the second floor, please?" The man kindly asked, his hands clasped in front of him.

"Sure." Scott obliged, his hand darting forward to press the button he was too about to press. Lizzie moved closer to Scott to make room for the man as he uttered a couple words of gratitude.

The elevator ride was silent and rather awkward, Lizzie swore she heard the contraption itself sigh in relief when the doors dinged open.

"You wouldn't mind helping me out for a second, would you?" The man requested just as the teens were about to exit. Scott looked unsure but Lizzie smiled as she grabbed his arm and guided him out into the hallwayy.

"There you go, dude," Was all Lizzie managed before Scott tugged her away towards room 215.

Yet, they barely made ten feet before they ended up loosing their way, only eventually stumbling across Isaac's now empty room.

Lizzie and Scott exchanged worried looks until they both spotted a second elevator not twenty feet away from them. In it was a large, smug looking man in nurse scrubs and a wheelchair holding a very sedated Isaac beside him.

A meaningful smirk formed across his lips as he reached to press the button to close the doors and conceal him and Isaac away.

Scott took off into a sprint and threw himself into the elevator before the doors could shut. Lizzie could do nothing but haul her newly formed ball of light at the unknown man, watching as he was thrown back and blinded for just a second.

The doors closed.

"Aw, shit!" Lizzie whisper-shouted to herself, running towards the nearest stairwell.

Her nimble footsteps echoed against the concrete walls surrounding the steps as she tried to prevent herself from chucking herself down them. She flew down them with such speed, she crashed into the hard wall at the bottom and then, with a groan, fell through the door leading to a more open hallway.

A body, the man from before, skidded across the floor and slowed just in front of her. Lizzie looked up with a mix of awe and confusion to see Derek Hale grinning triumphantly.

"Derek!" Lizzie jumped, "I haven't seen you all summer, dude!"

✯☾✯

The dilapidated Hale House was still as haunted looking as ever. It had been taken over by the council but otherwise, Derek would probably still call it home.

Lizzie sat on a chair older than her beside Stiles who had now joined them after a very traumatic day at school.

Derek was using his 'Alpha Vision', as he called it, to supposedly see where Scott's failed tatoo was supposed to be inked.

"Yeah, I see it. It's two bands, right? What does it mean?" Derek viewed the design the same way the proffesional tatooist had.

"I don't know... It's just something I trace with my fingers." Scott shrugged, dumbfounded as he drew patterns in the dust layering every surface in the building. Derek remained amused.

"Why is it so important to you?"

"Do you know what the word 'tattoo' means?" Scott began his little insight at all the knowledge he'd gained in summer school.

"To mark something." Stiles answered for Derek proudly, winking at him likes he'd just taught him something.

"Well, that's in Tahitian," Scott raised his eyebrows at the Stilinski, "In Samoan, it means 'open wound.' I knew I wanted to get a tattoo when I turned eighteen. I always wanted one. I just decided to get it now, it makes it kind of a reward."

"For what?" Derek persisted.

"For not calling or texting Allison all summer," Scott laughed at his own reasoning, "Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes... I was trying to give her the space she wants. Going on four months later... It still hurts. It still feels like a, uh..."

"Like an open wound." Stiles concured, his arms folded.

"Awesome." The girl next to him commented on the whole affair.

Derek sighed, his eyes locked with Scott's. He reached behind him to grab something, "The pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt."

"Ah, that's great."

"Do it." Scott spoke fearlessly

Derek took his orders and fired up the blow torch in his hand.

"Oh, wow. That's a-That's a lot for me. So, I'm gonna take that as my cue, I'm just gonna wait outside-" Stiles began to leave the room, dragging the small pixie with him, before his gag reflex kicked in.

"Nope. You guys can help hold him down." Derek halted him.

Stiles had never looked so horrified in his life but sluggishly, he and Lizzie took their places on either side of Scott, a hand on each shoulder.

The blow-torch emitted a low pitched roar, ccompanied by a faint hissing noise from the burning fuel. The flame created a rhythmic crackling or popping sound as it drew nearer to Scott's skin.

And the second the flame came into contact with the it, the awful roars of pain filled the run down Hale house.

Not only did Scott pass out from the sheer amount of pain but Lizzie had a small freak out, convinced the wolf was dead.

After a torturous hour, Scott had two thick, black bands inked permanently around his bicep.

He threw his gratitude at Derek the second he awoke, the alpha who quickly ushered the teens out of the house.

"Well, it looks pretty damn permanent now." Stiles remarked as Scott pulled his white sleeve shirt down, hiding the mark from view.

"Yeah... I kind of needed something permanent. Everything that's happening to us... everything just changes so fast. Everything's so, uh... ephemeral." Scott shrugged, glancing quickly around him to make sure Lizzie was following. She was. Just very slowly.

"Studying for the PSATS?" Stiles guessed the root of Scott's stress.

"Yep."

"Nice!"

Scott pulled open the creaking door at the front of the house, brown furrowing as he noticed something he didn't on the way in.

"You painted the door," he called back through the house to Derek, "Why did you paint the door?"

"Go home, Scott." Derek rejected Scott's request for answers.

"And why only one side?" Scott continued to stare at the door as if it was an alien. He shook his hand, unsheathing his claws and began to drag them across the painted red wood.

"Scott..." Derek shouted warning ly, walking towards the teen as soon as he realised what he was doing.

Scott worked fast, scraping at the paint until it revealed an unknown symbol displayed across the panels.

"The birds at the school, and the deer last night... Just like the night I got trampled by the deer when I got bit by the Alpha." Scott voiced his thoughts. The animals grew scared in Beacon Hills when something bad was happening, when something was coming.

"How many are there?"

Derek sighed, knowing he couldn't keep up the act any longer, "A pack of 'em. An Alpha Pack."

"They're all alphas?" Lizzie cut in with an inquisitive tone.

"I hear there's some kind of a leader... He's called Deucalion," Derek explained, "We know they have Boyd and Erica. Peter, Isaac and I have been looking for them for the last four months."

Lizzie faltered, she thought Boyd and Erica were just missing, lost somewhere. Yet, they were being held captive, her friends.

"Let's say you find them," Scott stuttered, referring to the two missing, "How do you deal with an alpha pack?"

"With all the help i can get." Derek replied, hopeful for an alliance.

Scott turned back to Stiles and Lizzie and from the look on his face, Lizzie already knew they were in.

"Where is she?" A groggy voice alerted the four. Isaac had sat up from his resting position on the couch, the anaesthetic had worn off. "Where's the girl?"

"What girl?"

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
hiii!!! thank you so much for reading and i just wanna say thank you so much for 100k on this book. that's actually insane!! idk what to do to celebrate.

we are officially one episode deep into season three (my second fave season)

i hope you enjoyed <333