"Did you really have to call the cops on us..."

Hope walked down the frozen food aisle, pushing a squeaky cart as she went, and stopped to look over the selection of chicken. Then, picking one up and setting it in her cart, she wondered what her family was doing now—probably arguing about some paranoid thought that came to her father's mind. So tonight, before bed, she would make it a priority to call them, check in, and let them know everything was fine—sort of.

"Hope!" a familiar voice suddenly called to her. She glanced over her shoulder and watched as Stiles Stilinski practically skated a cart towards her, almost running into her.

She nodded, unable to hold back a laugh as she picked up a bag of potatoes from a bin, checking for abnormalities, and set it into her cart "Hi Stiles," she glanced into his cart, which he filled with Little Debbie's, Doritos, and plenty of Reese Cups.

He smiled happily. "So, did you find the carwash alright?"

Hope paused, an unpleasant squirming sensation arising in her gut, before forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, it was very helpful. I can actually see my car now." She was surprised to hear him laugh; it wasn't every day she was socially acceptable. In New Orleans, some tourists didn't know her and ignored her, and then some locals did know her and took every chance they could to ignore her. They didn't accept her in the supernatural world of cliques. Vampires hated her for being a wolf, wolves hated her for being a vampire, and witches rhymed with bitches for a reason. So having someone like her enough to call to her from the other side of a grocery store was gratifying.

Hope walked with him up the aisle. She picked up a stock of broccoli and set it in her cart. Stiles, who had a box of dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets in his hand, glanced over and seemed to get the impression he wasn't being a 'responsible shopper' and set it down, picking up a head of lettuce from another chiller with a cheeky smile. Again, Hope smiled, shaking her head. And was it just her, or did he smell like curly fries?

He then asked, "So, what do you think of Beacon Hills so far?"

"Honestly?" she asked. "I like it. Not to say I don't miss home, but I must admit, it's nice to get away from the noise for a while."

"I could see that, but I mean, why Beacon Hills? It's not like we have any interesting landmarks or really anything interesting in general."

Hope smiled, "Well, what you find interesting might be different from what I find interesting."

"True," he smiled. "This place can be pretty great. How long do you plan to stay?"

She answered with a shrug, "As of now, I'm just going wherever the wind guides me. Free spirit and all that."

"That's actually pretty cool and brave."

"Really?" she asked, looking over at him.

"Yeah," he smiled, which she returned warmly.

When Hope had gotten the items she needed, she walked with Stiles to the checkout. He offered to help her take her bags to her car, and she didn't see a reason to refuse, so together, they exited the store and walked through the parking lot. The sun hadn't set yet, and she was glad. She knew it was silly, but she wanted to see what the sunset looked like here.

She opened the back hatch and started to load in her groceries when she heard an uncertain "Uhh" from Stiles.

She glanced over at him and saw he had spotted something, something that must have caught him off guard. She followed his gaze, and to her worst fear, her eyes found a single blood bag that must have been knocked out from the cooler when she was moving in.

Hope closed the hatch "Something wrong?" she asked, endeavoring to make it appear nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Of course, it was a long shot that he hadn't seen anything at all, but worth a try.

Stiles looked over at her with a dropped jaw and searching eyes. "Uh...nothing. Nope, there is absolutely nothing wrong at all," he laughed forcefully, "Alright, I'll see you later" he gave a single wave and backed up towards his Jeep, nearly tripping over his own feet as he did. He then turned around, scrambled into the driver's seat, started the engine, and tore out of the parking lot.

"Way to blend in, Hope. Your neighbor thinks you're a psychopath," she growled in irritation, pulling at the roots of her hair. Then, turning on her heel, she got into the driver's seat. It was good that the day was drawing near an end because she honestly couldn't see it worsening. Although, she'd been wrong before.

Hope chewed on her lower lip, took out her phone, scrolled up, and found her mother's number. She hesitated for a moment before pressing the call button. Then, finally, she raised the phone to her ear, and an immediate smile touched her lips when she heard her voice.

"Hey, mom," she said, tears threatening to touch her eyes, "Just checking in."

She must have sat there for an hour straight, catching them up on what she'd experienced so far. Well, almost everything. She decided to leave out the bit about being hunted down and threatened. No, she'd wait for the holidays to let that spill. For now, it was nice just to hear their voices.

She felt relaxed going home, happy even. Despite the day's events, her family reminded her that no matter what obstacles stood in her path, she had the power to knock them down. Nevertheless, it was reassuring to know they still believed in her.

Pulling into her driveway, she glanced at the house next door and noticed Stiles' Jeep parked in front. Maybe she'd go over and try to smooth out the night's events. Surely, she could come up with some fabricated story that meant she didn't have to lose a friend. She added it to her list of tasks to deal with tomorrow.

She opened the garage door and pulled in, no longer trusting her car to be outside. She didn't feel like waking up to a nasty note on her windshield. Or an arrow in her tire. She closed and locked the door behind her when she entered the house. At least she didn't have to worry about Dick entering her home, so long as the boundary spell was still active.

Just as she set her bags on the counter, deciding if she should freeze the chicken she'd let sit in the car for an hour, her acute hearing picked up a stray noise. It wasn't the fan's hum above or the wall clock's tick. It was a whisper. Two people, in fact, were whispering. Her eyes narrowed before closing completely, focusing on the voices.

"I swear I heard something, man. But, seriously, I think we need to get out of here. We found what we needed, alright. Pictures of the freaky blood pantry and no proof of her having a condition that requires it. Now, please, if you love me as your best friend, let's go before she shows up like some horribly scripted horror movie."

The voice belonged to Stiles. Then, another boy, whose voice she didn't recognize, answered.

"Be quiet," he whispered, "I think she's here...." She knew they were in the cellar now, with the cooler of blood bags. Alright, fine. Game on.

Hope slipped into a hidden from the view laundry room to hide and mask her voice. She picked up her phone and dialed the number. Sorry Stiles, but you really should have minded your own business. "911, what's your emergency?" a woman on the other line spoke.

"Yes, my name is Hope Montgomery. I live at 128 Woodbine Lane. I hear voices in the basement of my home. I think someone's broken in...."

"Are you able to get to a safe location?"

"Yes, I can."

"We will have a couple of squads over right away, ma'am. Would you like me to stay on the line with you until they arrive?"

"No, thank you. That won't be necessary," Hope said before hanging up.

Hope waited, peeking through the long-length crack of the laundry room door. She watched Stiles, and another teenage boy snuck out of the kitchen cellar door and crept away, obviously trying to make as little noise as possible. When they were out of sight, she used her vampire speed to silently slip through the door and into the cellar. She didn't have enough time to find another home for the bags, so instead, she held a hand over the cooler contents and spoke the incantation, "Phasmatos radium calaraa, Phasmato..." The bags suddenly disappeared, and yet they hadn't gone anywhere. The illusion spell conveniently made it appear the cooler was empty.

She crept out from the cellar just in time to hear sirens outside, and a curse word slipped from Stiles' lips. Hope darted out the back door in a blur, rounding the side of the house, and stopped to conceal the thick bushes surrounding her property. She searched for Stiles in the front yard, but most importantly, his phone, which she assumed held the pictures he'd taken in the cellar. She could see it, just there in the back of his pocket while he conversed avidly with who appeared to be the sheriff.

That's right, she thought to herself. Stiles' father was the sheriff, and she got the impression it wasn't the first time he'd had to come to a call involving his son. Focusing on the phone in his pocket, she willed for the circuits inside to fry, rendering it useless. Freya had once told her a witch could destroy anything if given the right incentive.

Once she was sure it was the appropriate time, Hope stepped out into the yard and walked toward the cruisers. "I'm Hope Montgomery. I'm the owner of the house..." she said to Sheriff Stilinski, casting a sideways glance at Stiles and his friend, who she overheard was named Scott.

"I am so, so sorry for this," he stated, "My son and his friend here seemed to be under the impression that there was something suspicious in your home, and they took matters into their own irresponsible hands."

"Something suspicious in my home?" she asked, feigning confusion excellently. "What would be in my house that they'd need to break in for?"

"Boys?" Mr. Stilinski asked, "Answer her question."

Stiles quickly took his phone out of his pocket. "We have proof, picture proof that you have..." he tried turning on his phone, but the screen remained black, "Just a sec..." he pushed the power button, letting out an exasperated sigh when it remained in its dormant state. "Oh, God, why now? Why?"

"Uh, Mr. Stilinski," Scott started, "I know we were wrong in taking matters into our own hands, but if you just check the cellar, I think you'll understand why we were suspicious in the first place."

Mr. Stilinski let out a heavy sigh and looked over at Hope to which she responded with a nod, "If it makes everyone feel better, you can look. I have nothing to hide."

The officers, taking her permission, went into the house. Hope, Stiles, and Scott stood outside staring at each other. It was an awkward silence before Stiles said,

"Did you really have to call the cops on us?"

"Did you really have to break into my home?"

Stiles pursed his lips and exchanged a look with Scott, "Touché, Hope, touché."

Mr. Stilinski soon walked out of the house and down the porch steps and looked disappointingly at Stiles. "We didn't find anything- "

"What do you mean you didn't find anything?" Stiles asked in shock.

"We didn't find anything," he repeated, giving him a stern look, "I'm very sorry for the inconvenience, Miss Montgomery," he pursed his lips, "Would you like to press charges?"

Hope looked over at Stiles and Scott, who now held deer in headlights expressions. She managed a smile. "I won't press any charges so long as Stiles here didn't take a mini muffin from the basket he brought over earlier."

"Nope, I didn't take a mini muffin..." he stated, "I took three...."

With a shake of her head, she smiled. "No, I won't be pressing charges. Imaginations can sometimes get out of hand, but I would appreciate it if there weren't any more break-ins to my home in the future."

"Of course," the sheriff said with a smile, "Thank you, and have a good night."

Hope nodded in response, watching everyone start to disperse. She listened to Mr. Stilinski telling his son how lucky he was and how disappointed he was with him. She watched Scott follow behind, and a strange scent fanned towards her as he passed. It was familiar yet distinctly different. Familiar, yet she couldn't compare it to anything. Hope frowned, watching Scott look over his shoulder. They locked eyes for a long instant.

There was something hidden behind them, something peculiar. Whatever it was, Hope had this unsettling feeling that it was something she'd never encountered before. However, she was also confident that she would soon find out what it was.