Dark of the moon (Dnf)

More bad then good - 1

How on earth can Malia Tate be a werecoyote? I thought I knew every supernatural creature that lives in Beacon Hills. Scott, Lydia, and then my family.

Why didn’t I know about Malia? Oh my. If she’s a werecoyote who was out instead of being restrained on the full moon then that means she was adopted and her family didn’t even know.

Oh, she must have been so confused and terrified. 

Scott and I wandered back to find Stiles, who ran to us as soon as we were in the clearing. “I think I found something.” Stiles told us. 

Scott and I nod. “So did we.”

We told Stiles what we had deducted, that Malia was actually the werecoyote that, well, you know. Killed- oh god I can’t even say it.

Every time I keep thinking about it I keep feeling incredibly horrible. She was a werecoyote. My family was not at all required to know what she was, but after the accident that, by the way, landed on a full moon, shouldn’t they have figured it out?

It's been 8 years. Aunt Talia was the alpha then, why didn’t she do anything about it? 

Stiles leads us to a small little cave, not far from the abandoned car. “It's a coyote den.” 

“Werecoyote.” I corrected him as I peered inside the little nook. It definitely smelled like a coyote had been here. Inside was a light blue jacket, along with some childrens toys.

 
Stiles picks up the blue sweater, shining his flashlight at it. “You see this? This is Malia's. Remember? It's the same one she was wearing in the photo.” I think back to the photo, I hardly saw it.

But Malia was wearing a blue jacket. 
I nodded and suddenly felt horrible.

“We shouldn’t be in here.” This was her den, her home for the past 8 years. And we just broke in and started to touch stuff. “What do you mean?” 

“She's not going to come back now.” Scott said. “We just invaded her home-- our scent's going to be everywhere.” 

“If she's not going to come back here, where's she going to go?” Stiles questioned. 

I shake my head, “I don't know.” She could go anywhere, maybe even find a new den. But one thing is for sure that she is not coming back here anytime soon. 

“Can you track her now?” Stiles asked us. “You think you got her scent?” I sniffed the inside of the den one last time to become familiar.

“I have it.” I looked at Scott, who seemed to be contemplating the situation. 

“Maybe, but I'm better at this when I'm a full wolf.” Scott admits. “And I'm still worried that if I do it, I won't be able to turn back.” 

Stiles sighed, we all knew what that meant. And according to Deaton it was not good. “The door's still open.” 

“If I can't get to Derek, we're gonna have to find someone else to help.”

Derek and Peter still haven’t returned from the errand that Mom sent them to do. Which in fact has made me curious as to what they are doing anyway.

But I’d rather just stay out of whatever business she sent them to do. Even if curiosity is killing me. 

“This is basically a crime scene, right?” Scott questioned Stiles. “I think it might be a little out of my boss' league-” 
Stiles finished for him. “And more in my dad's.” 

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Stiles called his dad who came with a few more officers to check out the scene. I even called my Aunt Nancy, thinking maybe she could help.

Especially considering that she already knows about the supernatural. Scott, Stiles and I stayed behind as Stilinski and Nancy checked out the den.

“You're sure it was her?” Stilinski asked us as they approached. Scott and I nod.

“We looked her right in the eyes, and they glowed, just like ours.” 

“It makes sense, Dad.” 

“But it wasn't a girl–” Nancy said, trying to understand what we were saying. “It was a four-legged coyote, right?” 

“Well, okay...but yeah, see, that's the point that we don't exactly have figured out yet.” 

I explained that part, “She's adopted right?” Nancy nods, pulling out a small notepad from her pockets. “I checked for you, she was adopted.”

Nancy looks at Stilinski. “My brother was adopted and he didn’t learn what he was till he was like ten.”

I saw Nancy shudder slightly, probably remembering the horrible memory of when she found out. It must have been very traumatizing for a 15 year old. 

I looked at Stilinski, “Malia must have been upset or something and if it was a full moon, and she did change while her mom was driving, then anything could have happened–” 

“Horrible things could have happened!” Stiles exclaims. “Ripping, shredding, tearing things–” 

“Which is probably what caused the accident!” Scott finished. We all turned to Stilinski with confidence on our deduction but he only stared at us, still clearly not convinced.

Really? Even after being kidnapped by a Darach, seeing us werewolves hold up the roof which should have been impossible for humans, seeing Scott transformed he still has a hard time believing us? 

“Think about it Dad, all right? They're driving. Malia starts to change. She goes out of control, the mom crashes, and everybody dies–” 

“Except for Malia.” I said. “She blames herself, all right? Goes off running into the woods, and eventually... becomes trapped inside the body of a coyote.” 
Stilinski nods.

“That makes sense,” We all smiled pleased. “In a Chinese folktale!” Our smiles dropped. Dammit. 

“Boys, this is-this is insane.” Stilinski said. Ugh. “I need this kept quiet.” He points between all of us. “The three of you? Not a word. I don't want anyone hearing about this. I especially don't want Mr. Tate hearing about this.” 

We nod. We definitely didn’t want to rip another of Mr. Tate's bandages. A car pulls up that we all recognized.

I’m sorry but why do FBI agents always take the biggest, blackest, SUV they can find. Stilinski groans. “Aw, hell.” 

Mr. Tate and Rafeal got down from the SUV and began to approach us. “Agent McCall,” Nancy greets.

Nancy and Rafeal already knew each other from the family dinners our families would have when the boys and I were kids. Rafeal and Nancy did not get along, just like Stilinski.

“Mr. Tate.” 

Mr. Tate does not respond, instead he stares at the blanket in Stilinski's hands. His daughter's blanket. 

“Mr. Tate?” Stilinski repeats before Tate rips the blanket from his hands. He stares at it, tears pooling in his eyes as he holds it close. No doubt remembering everything, remembering his daughter. “It's hers.” 

My heart is seriously breaking for this man. “All right,” Rafeal said, having all the confirmation he needed from Tate. He looked at us. “Wait here.” 

“Dad–” Scott began before Rafeal interrupted him. “I'll talk to you in a minute. I wouldn't mind hearing how your mom's okay with you running around in the woods this late."

He, Nancy, and Stilinski walked away. Leaving the three of us standing there with hands in our pockets.

Maybe we shouldn’t have called.