The Youngest (Teen Wolf) Rewritten

Chapter Sixteen

Kylie had to wait for what felt like forever, her small body trembling in the cramped darkness of the locker. The only thing she heard during the entire night was the eerie howl of the Alpha echoing through the school. It was a chilling sound, filled with command, and she knew what it meant—it wanted the Betas to transform. Even if she transformed, there wasn't much she could do. All she could manage was the occasional whimper as she prayed silently for someone to find her.

She didn't know how long she waited—minutes felt like hours, hours like an eternity—but eventually, she heard something. Voices. A glimmer of hope sparked inside her chest.

"Kylie? Kylie, you in here?" a familiar voice called out, muffled but growing closer.

Kylie recognized the voice instantly. It was the Sheriff's voice—Stiles' dad. Relief washed over her, and she knocked on the locker, her small fist hitting the metal with a soft thud. She didn't answer with words; she didn't trust her voice not to break, and she was scared that her eyes were still glowing the distinct werewolf color.

"Kylie!" Sheriff Stilinski shouted, his voice filled with urgency as he heard the knock. He rushed over, his eyes scanning the lockers until he found hers. He tried to open the door, his hands fumbling with the lock, but it wouldn't budge. He let out a frustrated curse under his breath.

"Kylie, I know there isn't much space in there, but I want you to back away as much as you can, and I want you to cover your ears, okay?" the Sheriff instructed, his voice gentle but firm.

Kylie did as she was told, curling up as much as she could, placing her head between her knees, and covering her ears with her small hands. Her heart pounded in her chest, her breathing shallow.

Sheriff Stilinski pulled out his gun, aiming carefully at the lock. The shot echoed loudly through the room, the sound reverberating off the walls, but it worked. The lock broke, and he quickly pulled the locker door open, his eyes scanning for the small child.

The moment the door swung open, Kylie lunged forward, her small arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She gripped him as if her life depended on it, her sobs breaking free now that she knew she was safe.

"It's okay, you're okay now," the Sheriff murmured, his voice filled with reassurance as he held her close. He rubbed her back gently, trying to comfort her as she cried into his shoulder.

Slowly but surely, Kylie felt her eyes change back to their normal color, the fear and adrenaline gradually subsiding. She buried her face into the crook of the Sheriff's neck, her tears soaking his shirt, but she didn't care. She was safe now, and that was all that mattered.

"You sure it was Derek Hale?" the Sheriff asked his son, still holding the trembling three-year-old securely in his arms.

"Yes," Stiles answered, his voice steady but filled with exhaustion.

"I saw him too. What about the janitor?" Scott asked, his eyes searching the Sheriff's face for answers.

The Sheriff was silent for a moment, his eyes darkening. "They're still looking," he finally said, his voice low.

"Did you check under the bleachers? Under them?" Scott pressed, desperation creeping into his voice.

"Yes, Scott, we checked. We pulled them out and looked, just like you asked. There was nothing there," the Sheriff replied, his patience fraying at the edges.

"I'm not making this up!" Scott cried out, his voice rising in frustration.

The Sheriff turned to him, his expression hardening. "You keep your voice down," he snapped. "I just found your three-year-old sister locked inside a locker, freaking out. She could be traumatized by this, and you two still have to explain to me how the hell she ended up there." He paused, taking a deep breath before softening his tone. "I know you're not making this up, Scott. I believe you, I do."

"No, you don't," Scott said, shaking his head. "You have this look like... like you feel bad for me—like you want to believe me, but you don't. If I was making this up, then why was Kylie locked up? Why would I lock my three-year-old sister up? That's sick!"

The Sheriff stopped walking, turning to face his son and Stiles. His eyes were filled with both frustration and concern. "Listen to me," he said firmly, "they're searching the whole school. They'll find him, okay? I promise. But right now, your sister is asleep on my shoulder, and I can still feel her shaking. I want you two to get her to your mother, Scott. You all have been through a lot tonight. Now, I'm gonna put Kylie in the jeep, even if you can't use it. When you two are leaving, you take her. She needs to sleep."

Scott and Stiles exchanged a glance before nodding, their faces solemn. The Sheriff turned and walked away, carrying Kylie, her small body nestled against his shoulder.

As they watched him go, Scott let out a sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. "Dude, I am so dead," he muttered, thinking of his mother's reaction.

Stiles looked over at him, a sympathetic expression on his face. "Yeah, well, at least you're alive to be dead," he said, his attempt at humor falling flat but earning a weak smile from Scott.

The minute Scott, Stiles, and Kylie stepped into the school the next day, Kylie spotted Lydia and Allison across the hallway. Without a word, she wriggled free from Stiles' arms and ran over to them, her small face set in a determined frown. She was still mad at her older brother and Stiles—after all, they had left her locked inside a locker. As she approached, Allison's eyes lit up, and she immediately picked Kylie up, settling the toddler on her hip.

"It's weird," Allison said, glancing at Lydia. "Everyone is talking about what happened last night, and no one knows it was us."

"Thank you, protection of minors," Lydia replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she arched an eyebrow.

Allison gave a small smile, adjusting Kylie on her hip. "Lydia, do you think I made the right decision?" she asked, her voice uncertain.

Lydia looked at her, her expression unreadable for a moment. "About that jacket with that dress? Absolutely," she finally said, her tone light.

Allison let a smile creep onto her lips, a soft chuckle escaping as she shook her head. "You know what I mean," she said, her eyes betraying her unease.

Lydia's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Hellooo... Scott locked us in a classroom and left us for dead, not to mention his little sister who was in the locker rooms," she said, her voice filled with exasperation. "He's lucky we're not pressing charges or sending him our therapy bills."

Allison looked at Kylie, her gaze softening. "What do you think, sweetheart?" she asked, her voice gentle as she looked into Kylie's big eyes.

Kylie shrugged, her small shoulders rising and falling as she thought for a moment. "Maybe he had a booboo, and that's why he didn't go in?" she suggested, her innocent voice filled with curiosity.

Allison sighed, her eyes shifting ahead, her mind still filled with uncertainty. "Maybe," she whispered, her voice barely audible as she held Kylie a little closer.