Black Wolf (Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Chapter 9: That's When I Called Derek.

~Scott's P.O.V.~

"Do we have to do this, Stiles?" 

Stiles looked over at me from the driver's side of his baby blue jeep and smirked gawkily. "Uh, we didn't have to, per say. Until you agreed to it. Now you kinda have to." 

I leaned back. I wanted Stiles happy, and I knew this is what he wanted. He wanted to go to this party and have a great time and who was I to take this away from him? He's my best friend, and still human. He needed reassurance of that sometimes... I looked over at him, and smiled sincerely. "Well, when you put it that way..." I chuckled. 

Stiles pulled into the house, which I assumed was owned by his friend since preschool, Heather. I emerged from the jeep, a sense of uneasy energy shook my bones. Stiles bounded out of the car, slammed the door shut and adjusted his button-up shirt collar. He glanced over at me, giving me a confident head nod as he walked up to the door. 

As soon as we entered the door, a blonde girl our age skipped up, a smile embroidered onto her face. "Stiles!" She giggled, and threw her arms around his neck, greeting him with a kiss. His face read shocked but satisfied, and I could smell the nervous chemicals radiating off him. After a few moments, she pulled away, running her hand down his arm, cupping his hand in her's. She led him off, and he turned around just long enough to give me a wink before he was immersed in darkness and trekking downstairs with his nursery school friend. 

I sighed, deciding for myself to search out for the snacks.

~Natalie's P.O.V.~

"Derek?" I wanted to scream at him. Why didn't he find me after the fire? Why did he leave me alone? I wanted to embrace him. I wanted to feel his existence wash over me and prove to me that this won't just dissipate in moments. I wanted to cry. I felt the warm tears well in my eyes as my stubborn nature yelled them into submission. I was emotionless, with nothing else to say but his name. 

He looked down, his facial expression similar to mine. Harsh, cold, emotionless; filled with emotions he wanted to explicate what he was feeling, but similar to me, he wasn't sure how. 

"I thought you were dead!" I coughed out; shocked to hear his voice echoed my own. "Wait... what?" 

He pursed his lips. "I thought you... in the fire..." 

I shook my head. "I thought the same about you... My mentor, he convinced me, that I was the only Hale left in Beacon Hills. He- he convinced me that I had to avenge your name- our name. He said we could reign over Beacon Hills again... We- we just needed Scott McCall..." I barely managed to choke out. 

Derek's eyes squinted, I could see the worry, the intense thought, blatantly plastered on his face. He looked so much older than I remembered. But his presence, his aura, reminded me of a time when my family was still around. Just being near him made me feel like my stolen childhood was given back to me. 

"You and your alpha pack, am I right?" His eyes deepened in their glare, making me feel far inferior to him. 

I opened my mouth to speak, but retracted my thoughts. I felt vulnerable; my heart wanted to scream every inch of their plan to him, but my mind, my well-oiled mind, told me to not trust anyone. 

I couldn't do it, I couldn't sit here and allow myself to feel so conflicted. I grabbed one of my bike handlebars, and gave one last look to where I was standing. The grass looked green and luscious now, but I still saw the charred remains of my past. I gazed at this ashy, run-down shack that used to stand tall and beautiful. The memories caused physical pain in my chest, my heart shattering beneath my ribs. 

"You don't have to tell me to confirm it." He spoke, quietly but it resonated in my mind. 

We stood in silence for a moment, my hand still gripping the leather handlebar of my bike, his buried deep in his pockets. Our silence was broken by his phone ringing. 

"Hello? Mhm... I'll be there in 5." He shoved the phone back into his pocket, shaking his head aggressively. "It's Scott. Something's wrong."

~Scott's P.O.V.~

After a half hour of loitering and listening to people's conversations, I see a frazzled Stiles run up from the cellar. His eyes wide, his hair sticking up from end to end. He met my eyes and ran up to me. "Scott...Something is wrong, something is absolutely, terribly wrong." He was panting and he reeked of anxious sweat. 

"What? What happened?"

"It's, uh, Heather. I had to go upstairs for, erm, something and I came back and she was gone. Like gone. There was blood on the ground and I can't find her, Scott.." He stumbled over his words, and I knew he was genuinely concerned. That's when I called Derek.

                                                                                               ~

Stiles and I were standing outside by the jeep; Stiles was holding his head in his hands, feeling like he had done something terribly wrong. I heard the veer of a car pull up to see the black Camaro that was Derek's preferred ride. He emerged from the vehicle and waltzed towards us. 

Not long after the Camaro was parked, a squeal of another vehicle  caught my attention. The biker kicked down the stand and took off their helmet, revealing Natalie, staring me down. She walked up to us, mimicking her brother's mantra. 

"What happened?" Derek asked. I was hesitant. I didn't want Natalie around. I didn't trust her, but I thought about how much I didn't trust Derek at the beginning of this either, and I think about the words Derek had said; 'The Natalie I knew would never hurt someone.' I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. But the power I knew she had and the motive I was still unsure of held me back. 

"Stiles's friend went missing. There's blood on the floor and he's thoroughly convinced it was something more than just her walking off." I couldn't help but stare at Natalie as I spoke. Her face remained so emotionless, but not out of lack of emotion. It was as if she was trained to not feel. Her eyes showed a compassion, but not one I was convinced of yet.  Does this mean she was guilty?

~Natalie's P.O.V.~

"You can't just make assumptions about that stuff..." Which is exactly what I was doing. What if it was Deucalion? What if I was failing and he was making sure I wouldn't forget the mission; by making sure the people around Scott suffered? 

"It's not assumptions if previous evidence has concluded it before." Stiles's face was stained by tears. I actually felt sad for the guy. One of his friends is missing, and possibly dead. Possibly because of him. Because of what he was dragged into... Possibly because of me. 

"We'll find her." Way to be rational, Nat. If she's dead that won't do any good. But Stiles seemed interested. He nodded. I looked at Scott, staring at his emotional expression. How lucky he was to have a best friend like Stiles. To forget everything rational and probable, to ignore what could possibly be dangerous out of friendship. I nodded, walking back to my bike. "I promise," were my last words as I straddled my bike and sped off. 

And all I could think about on the drive home was my pack. If my pack was my family, how come I was fully confident none of them would risk their well-beings for me?

*A/N I have not updated in a very very very long time! Ugh, I'm so sorry! I'm going to definitely try to update more! And I already have some ideas so I might update again tonight! I have a lot of ideas for character development I just don't want to expedite the growth of Natalie too fast, and I want you guys to see gradual changes in her over time!*

*Also, I do plan to continue this into Season 3B as well, I just got to get there! Thank you! :)*