Chapter Text
So, Livvy was lost.
In a town she had never been to before, heck, she's never even visited all the places in New York, and she's lived there for the past four years. She'd always thought if she ever came to Beacon Hills, it would be with Laura and Derek, them telling her about where they grew up, their favourite places, Laura holding her hand maybe...? (Derek would snicker in that awful way of his if he knew what she was imagining.)
Not like this.
Not after a bare, dry text which told her nothing and destroyed her world at the same time.
She had booked a flight and flown to Beacon Hills immediately, picked a bus to the police station after talking to some locals, and ended up dozing off on the bus. Or maybe she was just staring endlessly at the seat in front of her and missed her stop. She can't particularly remember. The passage of time seems to be happening on a separate track. Like she was an anomaly, and wasn't worth it for time to be relevant to her.
And now she was in the middle of nowhere, walking down an abandoned road near the woods.
A wave of grief washed over her, choking and drowning. Derek had to be wrong. It just wasn't possible. Laura couldn't be dead. It made no sense. These things don't happen! She was just there with Livvy last week, telling her to be more proactive, not to be sullen and down (like Derek), teasing, laughing, so vibrant.
How can someone so full of life a week ago be gone?
Maybe Derek was hallucinating. Maybe this was a psychotic breakdown. He had never quite opened up, not the way Laura had eventually, and while Livvy knew she wasn't a favourite person on his list, he wouldn't make this up to hurt her like this. The only plausible explanation was that he truly believed Laura was dead, and was having a breakdown.
Any moment now, Laura would reply back to her incessant texts. She would.
It would be okay, she tried to convince herself. Derek just needed help. Which he would be reluctant to accept, not to mention his intense dislike of her existence from the day she had moved in with them in their apartment in New York. Sometimes, Laura was the only topic of conversation they could keep up with, and she had no proof but she had a feeling she had threatened him more than once to play nice with her.
And Livvy had let it be, not particularly excited to be pals with Derek either. They both tolerated each other only because of Laura.
Plus, he was kind of an asshole sometimes.
Lost in her thoughts, Livvy barely noticed a jeep coming right towards her, and her eyes met panicked brown ones through the windshield before a voice in her head screamed Get out of the way! And she blinked back to reality. She leapt across to the right, biting her lips hard enough to draw blood, as her knees scraped harshly from the road, while the jeep dangerously swerved to the left at the very last moment. She was barely able to make out a couple of voices screaming incoherently and arguing through the buzzing in her eardrums.
"Get it away from me!" she heard a boy yell, in panic.
Damn right they should panic, she thought viciously. She was going to kill them.
"What the hell?" she managed to say, her breath coming in short gasps, heart hammering against her chest. That would have been a sad, pathetic way to go out. Here lies Livia Grace, who lived with werewolves, fought monsters her whole life, but died because of two dumb teenage boys decided to drive that day.
Laura would laugh at the absurdity of it.
"What the hell?" Livvy repeated, calming herself down. It's okay. She's alive. She isn't dying today.
"What is wrong with —" she started, only to startle a yelp when something — no, someone jumped out of the jeep window, and Livvy barely has a moment to register his face, but it's enough to let her know it's a werewolf. A young one who looks at her for a moment, enraged, and then leaves her to the dust, sprinting away.
Is Beacon Hills just filled with werewolves?
"Scott, wait!" she heard someone scream, but the young werewolf was long gone.
She turned to the source of the voice slowly, scrambling away from the road lest another vehicle run her over to her untimely demise. It's the teenager who was driving, she realised, with bright brown eyes and a face scattered with moles, sporting a buzzcut.
He looked at her in astonishment as she walked towards him, mouth agape, and then flinched away, laughably late.
"Sometimes," He licked his lips nervously. "When we are in near-death situations, we tend to see...things, like crazy stuff." His hands moved wildly, and it made Livvy almost dizzy to try to follow them as he gestured uselessly.
"So uh, whatever it is that you saw..." he shrugged, trying to be suave. A lost cause. "Was probably because we — no, I was almost gonna hit you..? Because it's just me here! Just plain old Stiles!"
"This is....your style?"
"No, Stiles. My name, that is. Stiles."
"Oh, because that clears it all up. Thanks," she said dryly, pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.
"No problem? Also, uh, sorry that I almost hit you?"
Livvy gave him a harsh smile at which he withered, guilty.
"So, Stiles," Livvy began, ignoring the stab of pain her knees were shooting at where they got scraped. "Where is your werewolf buddy heading?"
He stiffened almost comically, eyes wide and lips parted.
"Werewolf?" he screeched, then proceeded to laugh one of the most painful fake cackles Livvy has ever heard.
"Werewolves aren't real! It's the shock, you're in shock!"
"I am not in shock," she said, pinching her forehead.
"It's because I almost hit you," Stiles points out obnoxiously, borderline hysterical. "Maybe you should go get checked out at the hospital. I can uh...take you there?"
"Stiles —"
"Though, and I'm not trying to be a major douche here, because my sunny disposition usually charms people,"
Sunny disposition.
"but I really need to be uh, somewhere else, so if you're not too hurt, do you think you could just ... walk?" he said, in a manner Livvy can only define as squeaking.
Livvy sighed, the annoyance fading away. This was a kid. One who probably didn't know who to trust and who not to.
"Listen, Stiles," she said slowly, after a long and measured silence. "We could do this for hours, and then you will quit trying to make me believe I imagined a werewolf and will understand that I already know about werewolves, and this conversation is fruitless. But by that time, your buddy could have done something irreversible, so do we really want to waste valuable time on this?"
Stiles was gawking.
"Do you wanna find him before he ends up hurting someone or not?" she added, assuming an injured air at his reluctance. She had better things to do! He should be grateful that she was offering help!
"I am trustworthy, you know," she added, and winced the moment she did. That just made it sound much worse.
"That's what those who are not trustworthy would say," Stiles pointed out, wary.
"What would a trustworthy person say?"
"Isn't that the million-dollar question?" he muttered under his breath, and Livvy could almost hear the cogs in his head whirring around, his gaze scrutinising.
A Hermes kid, she thought, if he were a demigod. Hyperactive, a sharp nose, and a general mischievous disposition. He was a textbook example of a Hermes kid.
"Why would you want to help?"
"Because of my magnanimous nature," she said, and Stiles's mouth twitched. She smiled tentatively.
"I am here to find someone, and your werewolf buddy might know where he is," she pushed another strand of hair behind her ear. Was it presumptuous to assume a werewolf in Beacon Hills knows where Derek might be? Probably...?
But looking at how unprepared and scared Stiles looked, Livvy couldn't in good faith leave him alone.
"And I am lost and desperately need to charge my phone, so please tell me you have a spare charger? You get my winning charm and help for free too...even when you almost ran me over," She flashed a wide grin.
☼
Stiles only gives in only after 20 more minutes of uselessly arguing with her.
☼
He doesn't have a charger. The little shit.
☼
"He became a werewolf three days ago?!" Livvy yelled, stunned. "Oh, this is bad."
"You think I don't know that? "Stiles snapped, dialling a number.
"Who are you calling—?" Livvy whirled on him impatiently, when:
"911, how may I help you?"
Oh gods.
"Hey-ey! There's my favourite person!" Stiles says with fake-glee, voice cracking.
Stiles, you know you can't call the dispatch line when I'm on duty.
Livvy had known the boy for 20 minutes, and she isn't even fazed that the dispatcher knows who Stiles was.
"Totally, totally," Stiles agreed loudly, speeding down the road through the woods. "I just need to know if you've got any odd calls....?"
Odd, how?
"Uh, like an odd person, or...." he trailed off, scrunching his face.
He looked at Livvy for help, but she simply shrugged, crinkling her eyebrows. She wasn't going to talk to the cops for this. He made his bed.
Werewolf, she mouthed unhelpfully, and was met by a glare.
He kinda reminds me of you, Livvy! A voice sounding suspiciously like Laura voiced thoughtfully in her mind, and her amusement faded instantly.
"A dog-like individual roaming the streets?"
Livvy snorted in surprise, turning her face to hide her laugh in the back of her palm. Stiles shot her a look of murderous contempt.
I'm hanging up on you now.
"Noooo, wait wait wait!"
The resounding beep of the end of the voice call filled the jeep.
"Now, do we want to listen to my idea?" Livvy asked, smiling blandly.
"Fine," Stiles huffed, still giving her a stink eye. Ungrateful brat. "What's your plan?"
"What's his anchor? Is it a person? A place? That's the first place where we could be looking?"
"What do you mean by his anchor?" Stiles asked curiously, seemingly forgetting the one-sided hostility he'd established with Livvy.
Definitely would have been a Hermes kid if he was a demigod.
"What makes him stay in control?" Livvy clarified. "What or who does he think of to stay tethered to his humanity?"
Stiles makes a face. "Did you miss the part where I said he became a werewolf and has no control?"
"Okay, fine!" Livvy snapped. "Anchor unknown. What makes him lose control then?"
Stiles blinked.
"Huh," he said, voice small. "Oh my god, it's whenever he panics about Allison. We were talking about Allison before he got frustrated!"
"Who's Allison?"
"The girl he likes," Stiles said dismissively, turning the jeep abruptly, making them jerk in their seats.
Livvy rolled her eyes. Teenagers and their painful-to-witness infatuation. Like any of it lasted, or even mattered in the long run.
You and Derek could be good for each other. Laura used to tease. I've seen you both whisper when I'm not listening in. A dancing glee in her eyes.He can be a little obtuse to even realise it, but I know deep down he cares for you.
Derek had snorted obnoxiously back then, overhearing — You're a class act, Laura.— and Livvy had kept quiet, cheeks burning.
It had been Laura who'd been the obtuse one at the end.
"We should hurry up then," Livvy said grimly, clearing her throat. "Before he ends up killing this girl,"
☼
"Do you actually have a license?" Livvy asked, dubious.
"Yes," came from Stiles, voice particularly snooty, but she doesn't quite believe it. His driving skills leave less to be desired.
"Be honest, how many people have you almost run over other than me?"
"None!?"
☼
"Like two other people and one of them was so asking for it."
☼
"Jackson really was asking for it, trust me."
"Okay, Stiles!"
☼
Eventually, they reach Allison's house and find Scott — thankfully human now — talking to who Livvy assumed to be Allison and her father(?) in the backyard of her stately brick house. Stiles stopped right outside the gates, honking a loud, awful sound with his jeep.
"Heeeeey Scottie, my bud, my bro, you uh, you disappeared for a minute there?" Stiles exclaimed, grinning a painfully wide smile.
Livvy smiled hesitantly, trying to be pleasant. Scott cocked his head to the side, looking at her quizzically. She waved slightly, awkward.
"I was uh," Scott began, gulping. "Just here saying hi to Allison,"
"And my dad almost ran him over," Allison added, giving a scathing look to her father.
"What?"
"He came out of nowhere!" her father protested, a hard look in his eyes. "I really am sorry that about Scott. You sure you're okay? I'd be surprised if you are." There was something in the way he said that, a wary suspicion, as if he knew exactly what Scott was and how he ended up there that made Livvy feel unsettled.
Did he know about werewolves, too? This damn town.
"Y-yeah!" Scott nodded passionately, and at the very moment, Livvy could understand how Scott and Stiles were friends. Probably bonded in how they couldn't hide something to save their lives, and their pitiful ways of covering it up.
"Who are you, by the way? I haven't seen you around!" Allison asked, curious. When no one answered, Livvy realised she was the one the question was being directed at. Stiles tries to pinch her forearm, and Livvy smacked it away automatically. Brat.
"Sorry, I have been a bit spacey today," she laughed. "I'm Livvy. I just came to visit a friend here in Beacon Hills, and I got lost. And my phone died, so...Stiles here was just taking me to the police station."
Stiles gawked, letting out a surprised sound at which Livvy turned to him slowly, smile strained. "Aren't you?"
"...Yep," he said a beat later, sticking both of his thumbs up.
"And he was also looking for uh...Scott, so," Livvy added. "It was on the way."
"Oh!" Allison said cheerfully, dimples showing as she smiled warmly at her. "We're new here, too. Just shifted here a couple of weeks back!"
Livvy can't help but relax and smile warmly back at her. She's always been weak to people with dimples.
"The police station?" The father asked, eyes narrowing. "Wouldn't you rather go to your friend's house?"
"Oh, he got arrested," Livvy said, unfazed. "I mean — not exactly. He didn't do what he's been accused of; he just looks scary, you know?" Massive understatement. "Guys with their leather jacket and their broody I-am-never-going-to-smile-anymore shtick? That's him. Apparently, some kids were lurking around, thought he was a murderer because he looked scary, and called the cops on him," Livvy shrugged.
"He'll be released soon, he's innocent, you know? Sometimes people just get judged too quickly,"
The stunned silence that followed was stifling, almost suffocating.
A nervous chuckle made its way past her throat. "...and I'm talking too much, sorry,"
Scott gaped at her while Stiles went uncharacteristically still for the first time in all the time Livvy had spent with him.
"Anyway, we should be going?" she said, slowly looking around, after everyone seemed to continue to stare at her. "Right?"
"Right!" Scott said nervously, breaking the silence first. "I — We should go, we have a lacrosse game to get to,"
Allison nodded enthusiastically at the change in topic, looking at Scott with an infatuated expression, dimples showing again. "Right!"
"You're still coming, right?" Scott asked, and the same infatuation mirrored his face.
Stiles rolled his eyes and turned to Livvy as she pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Of course! I would never miss it..."
They sigh together simultaneously.
"I'll be joining too," Allison's father added, coughing loudly at the love-sick teenagers. He looked at Livvy again, and she gave him a guarded smile.
"There have been recent...animal attacks going on these days," he added. "I hope you and your friend," he said with a slight sneer, making Livvy frown. "...remain safe. A lot of creatures that roam the night."
Scott stiffened behind him.
"Sure!" Livvy said as pleasantly as she could manage, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. Creepy.
Stiles throws Scott another hard look, and he ushers towards the jeep, standing outside the front passenger-side door, probably used to always sitting next to Stiles. Which Livvy was currently in.
He blinked, confused, an action that made him seem like such a puppy that Livvy had to fight the urge to stretch her hand outside the window and tousle his floppy brown hair.
"Back seat, buddy," she said instead, grinning.
☼
"Okay, who are you?" Scott yelled as soon as the drive off from Allison's house.
Livvy raised an eyebrow, already tired. "Did you not hear me back there?"
"Scott, wait," Stiles interrupted, his suspicious eyes on Livvy. "You! You didn't tell me any of what you said then!"
She shrugged. "I was a little busy with you almost dying and Scott wolfing out in broad daylight. We had bigger concerns!"
"You told her about me!" Scott yelled in dismay, fangs dropping.
"Whoa, we are all on your side here!" she said, crinkling her eyebrows. "Fangs back inside."
"No! She figured it out on her own!" Stiles exclaimed, ignoring her, tone an octave higher. Livvy closes her eyes, taking a deep breath.
Teenagers. Practically babies. Don't kill them.
"How?" Scott shrieked, terrified. "I was able to convince Mr. Argent I wasn't one, and he literally ran me over! You couldn't lie to her?"
"I don't think you convinced him, though," Livvy pointed out, but the boys were too busy arguing to listen to her.
"Oh, I don't know, Scott! Seeing you jump out of your seat with your sideburns out and your face disfigured might have given a teensy bit of a clue!"
Bristling, Scott twisted his lips in what should be a sneer, but it came out as a pout.
"That happened because you kept those flowers in your bag!"
"It's wolfsbane, Scott! I told you this!"
"I wasn't—"
"Boys," Livvy announced amicably. "My head hurts, can we not scream?"
Scott went silent, scrunching his face. "You said...you said your friend was in jail?"
"I know," she sighed. "I know it sounds pretty bad, but trust me, there's a lot you don't know. And I have already said too much, he'd get pretty mad if he knew— "
"Just to be clear, we're talking about Derek Hale?" Scott interrupted, and Stiles smacked his forehead in frustration.
Livvy blinked in surprise.
"Oh my gods," she exclaimed, lighting up. "Oh my gods! Yeah! Do you know him?"
"Know him?" Scott snorted, frowning. "We are—"
"We know him because my dad is the sheriff!" Stiles interrupted, his eyes almost manic. "He was the one, um, who arrested him because they found the upper half of a dead body in his backyard."
Livvy flinched at that, a sharp pain in the back of her eyes as she tried to imagine Laura like that. She shook her head, shut her eyes, and tried to will the image away.
Laura is dead. 2 Kids think I did it, going to get arrested. is what Derek had texted her. Did they find her body in his backyard?
I'll be fine. Don't come here.
(Like hell she wouldn't come there. It's like he didn't even know her.)
Tears burned the back of her eyes, and Livvy took a shuddering breath.
No, she thought fiercely. Laura wasn't dead. It wasn't Laura. It couldn't have been. She just has to go talk to Derek; it'll be fine. It will all be fine. Then they'll find Laura and go back to New York. It would be okay.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, Livvy could swear she heard Laura laugh softly, almost mocking, and ignored it.
When Livvy opened her eyes, her eyes not threatening tears, Scott and Stiles seemed to have had a silent conversation with their expressions.
"So you just...know about everyone your dad arrests?" Livvy asked, doubtful. "Is that... allowed?"
Stiles shrugged dramatically. "What can I say? I like to know things,"
"I can tell," Livvy said dryly, amused.
"So could you drop me off at the police station?" She paused, hesitant. "Is it far? I really am lost and could use some help," She tried giving a winning smile, something she had seen Derek and Laura do often to get their way from strangers.
She suspected, after the concerned look the boys shared, that it did not quite work the same way with her. Whatever. If she looked pitiful, then so be it! As long as she got to the police station. Livvy needed to find Derek.
"Did I mention how you almost killed me?" she added, when Stiles didn't answer.
"What?" Scott asked, suddenly worried. "Stiles!"
"That was your fault, Scott!" Stiles argued, but then seemed to have given up. "Yeah, okay. I'll drop you," he added, glancing warily.
☼
"Livvy," Scott asked after a while, carefully, as they drove in silence. "So you know that Derek is a werewolf?"
Later, she will look back and wonder how she didn't understand it the moment she saw Scott and Stiles stiffen when she mentioned Derek being in jail. The contempt in Scott's voice. The panic in Stiles's eyes. The scorn in their eyes when they mention him.
2 Kids think I did it, might get arrested.
These were the kids. That's why they know him, and that's why the sheriff was so quick on Derek's arrest; since it was his son reporting it.
Something ugly unfurled in the pit of her stomach at the prospect of these two ignorant teenagers trying to pin Laura's death on Derek. Like they weren't real people. Like Livvy's whole world wasn't going to be shattered if Derek was right about her death.
Like she would ever be able to recover.
From the corner of her eyes, Livvy can feel Stiles' brown eyes boring into her temple, as if he could hear her thoughts.
She took a deep breath, and smiled as if it were a secret, eyes stormy and cold. "I don't know,"
Two blinks.
"You don't know," Scott repeated, unbelieving. "Of course you know!"
She wasn't telling them anything until she understood how these two fit into everything that has happened first.
"I don't," she agreed, amicably. "Now the police station, please?"
Stiles sighed.