Work Text:
Intro To Lycanthropy, available at the local YMCA twice a week, was Talia Hale’s pride and joy. She’d fought hard to get the class introduced, opposed by the governor and the town council but backed by so much community support that further attempts to block it would’ve been political suicide. There had been flower arrangements and fruit baskets delivered to Talia’s office for weeks after the class was officially added to the schedule. Also, a healthy helping of hate mail and threats, but she didn’t care about that. Talia considered it her greatest achievement to date and her biggest contribution to the betterment of her community.
So why the fuck did Laura have to teach the damn thing?
Okay, realistically, she knew why. Her mother was a very busy woman with a lot of things on her plate that were more important than teaching a free-but-donations-appreciated Werewolf For Dummies course. The Hales were the largest, oldest, and most knowledgeable werewolf pack in the state, much less the city, and there simply weren’t that many people in town qualified to give reliable information to impressionable new wolves. If there were, the class probably wouldn’t be in such high demand.
Laura, as a Hale, was one of those people. And Laura, as an alpha in her own right, was uniquely suited to soothing and guiding the lost, anxious, occasionally traumatized young people who came to them for help.
She didn’t even mind teaching it, most of the time. There was a lot of fulfillment to be found in providing that help. There was nothing better than the joy on a teenager’s face when he finally managed to flash his eyes on purpose for the first time, or the relief of a terrified kid realizing that what had happened to her wasn’t the death sentence she’d thought it was. Some days, Laura went home feeling like an absolute hero.
Other days, like this one, she wanted to put her head through a wall.
“Erica, stop sniffing your classmates,” Laura said, going for stern but pretty sure she landed on annoyed instead.
Erica popped her gum but leaned back out of Scott’s personal space. “That’s a dumb rule. What’s the point in being able to smell things about people if you’re not ‘allowed’ to?” she asked, air quotes and all.
Laura pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not a rule. It’s just rude.”
Beside her, Peter snorted. Of course he did. He could never keep his nose out of anyone’s business, either figuratively or literally. Hence him being here in the first place, sitting in on Laura’s class as a self-proclaimed “expert” and uninvited guest speaker. Derek, here because he’d forgotten to do the dishes last night and mom was punishing him by inflicting his presence on Laura and her students, flicked him in the ear.
“He smells weird,” Erica whined, sending Scott a dirty look like he was doing it on purpose.
“He smells anxious,” Derek muttered without looking up from his phone.
Scott made an indignant noise. “Of course I do! The full moon is coming up!” He turned his big brown eyes to Laura and said, with all the earnest concern of someone who knew nothing reliable about werewolves, “Am I gonna try to kill someone?”
“Yes,” Derek said.
Laura smacked him in the chest hard enough to make him drop his phone. “No!” She smiled at Scott, who—along with half the other kids here—looked absolutely stricken by Derek’s deadpan answer. “No, Scott. The rumors about bloodlust on the full moon are wildly exaggerated. There will be an increase in aggression, yes, and a loss of impulse control. But if you take the proper precautions, these can be managed. And, with proper training, it should only take a few months before the full moon stops being overwhelming and you’ll be able to remain in complete control of your faculties.”
Scott settled back into his seat looking halfway reassured. A few of the others let out sighs of relief as well. Derek was back to texting. Peter opened his mouth to add something that was almost guaranteed to be unhelpful, so Laura stepped on his foot as casually as she could on her way to the other side of the room.
“Any other questions?” she asked gamely.
Liam, the youngest member of this particular batch, thrust his hand into the air.
“If I stay in the beta shift too long,” he said, “will my face get stuck like that?”
The class erupted in worried muttering. Apparently, most of them had never even considered the possibility of such a thing happening, but now that they thought about it, it was extremely concerning.
“I vote we go back to Scott’s question,” Peter put in, kicking his feet up on Laura’s desk. “It was less stupid.”
“Nobody asked you, Peter.”
“You know, I heard that happened to cousin Elroy,” Derek said idly. He grinned at Liam. “Aunt Gertie warned him, but, you know…kids. They never listen.”
Liam looked horrified.
“Oh, for the love of god,” Laura groaned. “Derek, we don’t have a cousin Elroy. Why do I get the feeling you’re not taking this seriously?”
He transferred his grin to her, sweet as pie. “Because I don’t want to be here.”
Peter raised his hand. “I do.”
“You are not helping, Peter.”
“Ooh, ooh, I have a question!”
A raised hand flailed wildly in the back row of seats and Laura was left to question how this class had gotten so far out of her control. She leaned back against her desk, rubbed at her forehead to ward off the headache an alpha werewolf shouldn’t even have been able to get, and said, “Stiles, how did you get in here?”
The human boy in question shrugged. “I’m friends with Meredith at reception.”
Scott turned all the way around in his seat to say, “I thought Meredith hated your guts.”
“I’m an acquired taste,” Stiles said with a wink. “I’m growing on her.”
“This class is for newly bitten werewolves,” Laura told him, just as she had the last four times he’d snuck into one of her lessons. “There’s a support group for family and friends on Wednesdays, and an FAQ and a forum for any questions you may have. So, unless you got the bite sometime in the last week—”
“No!” Stiles squawked. “I have not been bitten, but—”
“Would you like to?” Peter asked with an unmistakable leer.
“Peter, get out.”
With a sigh so dramatic it deserved an Oscar nom, Peter slunk out of his chair toward the door. “Fine,” he said. “I suppose I’ll take my lifetime of experience and expertise somewhere it will be appreciated. Stiles, feel free to call me personally for any further questions, comments, or concerns.”
Stiles flipped him the bird while Scott made exaggerated retching noises and Laura wished fervently that she’d been born to a different family.
“On that note,” Derek said, shoving his phone in his pocket, “I think this class is over.”
“We’ve still got ten minutes,” Laura tried, but he just snorted.
“Sure, if you think you can follow that. ”
Erica was out the door, hot on Derek’s heels with bubble gum popping. The rest of the class was quick to take the cue. Laura didn’t bother trying to stop them. It’s not like this class was mandatory or even paid for. She sank down at her desk and let her forehead drop onto the wood with a thump. It may have been a disaster of a lesson, but at least Cora hadn’t been there. Cora was too much of a troll to be allowed within ten feet of this classroom, no matter how many dishes she didn’t do. The last time she’d “helped out”, she’d convinced all the students that they were going to grow tails.
A cleared throat distracted Laura from her misery. She raised her head to see Isaac. He was one of the older members of the class, in the sense that it had been three months since he was bitten. Most new wolves only came a few times before they felt that they had a grasp on the basics. Isaac had never so much as raised his hand in the months he’d been coming to her class, but he was always present and attentive.
Laura sat up straight, tucking her hair behind her ear and dragging up a smile. “Isaac. Did you have a question for me?”
“No,” he said, voice soft. “I just wanted to show you…”
Isaac held up his right hand. A second later, his bitten-short fingernails had been replaced by long, sharp claws.
“I couldn’t do that a week ago,” he told her. “But how you explained it to Malia on Tuesday made a lot of sense. I practiced it that way for a while, and I think I’ve got it now.”
Laura beamed. "Oh, Isaac, that's wonderful!"
Isaac smiled back at her, shy but obviously responsive to an alpha's praise. He pulled his claws back in, hand falling to wrap around the strap of his messenger bag. The other hand ran through his hair, leaving his mop of curls in disarray.
“Yeah, so, um… I just wanted to say thanks. For everything you do here.”
He beat a hasty retreat before Laura could respond, even that much interaction apparently too much for him. Laura watched him go with a warmth in her chest that not even her uncle's antics could douse.
To the empty classroom, she said, “My pleasure.” And, despite everything, she meant it.