Fight Till We Die

Friends?

It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.

- William Blake

It had been a week since Libby and Derek were released, and she spent the entirety of it ignoring both Scott and Stiles. Rather, Libby took a personal interest in truly befriending Lydia, Allison, and Jackson. Since the arrest, she'd gone shopping with Lydia and Allison, and let Jackson teach her the proper way to toss a ball in lacrosse.

Despite all odds, she'd found comfort in them. Derek hadn't said any more about Scott, and Libby felt he was taking care of it himself, but for the first time in a while, she didn't mind. She allowed herself the freedom to have friends. She allowed herself the freedom to hate Scott without taking responsibility for him.

Both Scott and Stiles had tried and failed repeatedly to get back in her good books, but Libby wasn't having it. It came to a point where her new friends noticed her disdain for the pair and would guard her from them.

It was odd, being guarded rather than being the guard, but a part of her relished in it.

Libby's wound from the alpha had closed, finally. Now she only bore four dotted scars on her back that would heal within the next day. Though her back had healed, the scars that were still healing were a constant reminder of what she couldn't easily erase-not from her skin, nor her memory.

She hadn't seen the alpha since, only attempting to hunt him with Derek when night fell. Each night, they stalked the woods in silence, the weight of unresolved anger slowed her senses. She knew it didn't go unnoticed by Derek, but he accommodated her rather than confronted her. Libby couldn't tell if the anger was from the alpha's disappearance or if it still lingered from the arrest, per Scott and Stiles.

That morning, Libby strode down the sidewalk path outside the school with Jackson at her side. He had opened up to her more since her visit to the hospital, and a delicate friendship had blossomed between the two. A friendship, she found, she liked.

"Lacrosse isn't as hard as you would think. All it takes is practice and agility, you could easily join the team."

Libby laughed at his side, a freeing sound that she still struggled to allow, but for some reason, it came easy, "I thought it was a guy's team? There isn't a girls lacrosse team."

Jackson shrugged, looking away. Libby could tell his next words made him uncomfortable, but still, he said them, "Well, Coach never said girls couldn't be on the team."

Looking him up and down she laughed under her breath. He was tense and wouldn't meet her eye. It was easy to tell he didn't want a girl on the team, even if he believed she could do it.

If only to tease him, she said, "Well maybe I'll talk with Coach today in Econ." Libby bumped his shoulder, "Tell him about my glowing recommendation from the team captain."

Jackson made to respond but his thought train trailed off when he looked forward. Libby turned away from him and saw an abundance of police cars, Stiles' dad stood next to a school bus.

Libby could smell the blood from where she stood. The sharp, metallic scent was the first thing to hit her, actually. Fresh, male. Libby's muscles tensed, instincts flaring as she scanned the scene for the body. She should've moved, should've known what happened. But to her right, the bright blue double doors were pushed open. Libby looked and saw Scott and Stiles, their gazes jumping right over her towards the cops.