8 10/10, would drink again

XXXXXXXXXX

Off. I look in the mirror at olive skin, brown hair and eyes. I take a breath and let it out, reaching for the energy, the magic, inside me, pulling it outwards from the center of my chest. On. Silver erupts into being as markings materialize onto my skin. My eyes blaze with the luminous, supernatural color, and my hair bleeds from the roots down, until it shines sliver as well. An upturned crescent moon on my forehead looks like a piece of the sky has fallen there. Off. All the supernatural signs seem to drain back into my core. I'm starting to wonder which is my "real" form, my base state. I shake away the thought, not really sure I'd even want know. In the end it doesn't matter. What's done is done, the only thing left to do is accept it.

"That is still really cool."

I grin at my baby sis, and hope it doesn't show any of the strain I'm pretending not to feel. "It is. Weirdly enough, the marks never look the same." I pause showing her my… magic girl transformation? "I can also control the amount of glow, although not very well yet and can make it happen to just my hair and eyes."

Sunya holds the end of my very long hair in pudgy baby hands, awe and joy coming off her, and I smile because at least one of us is having fun with this. I don't hate it, I guess, but… I'm still trying to process. Your body suddenly changing is odd. My powers were one thing because it was like my own character traits were just enhanced, but this is much more jarring. And this whole queen/ Gaurdian thing…

"The markings look like henna." Sunny snaps me back, out of stressful thoughts.

"Sometimes, " I agree, "Let's start on breakfast. The pack will be by later. By the way… I've been meaning to ask, how are you with everything that's been going on. It's been scary, right? I'm sorry, love." I grab her hand as we head down the stairs because this child somehow caught Stiles's clumsiness, and I just recently saw her fall on them literally 10 times in a single day.

The weight of guilt for the situation isn't making me feel any better. I was hibernating and the others were panicking. Sunya was traded between the pack so someone was with her, and apparently, the others basically moved in to watch me sleep. Thankfully, it seemed I was in suspended animation, or something so I didn't need to eat or use the bathroom, although Mama Mel and Sunya gave me baths so I wouldn't kill the noses of the wolves. Technically, there shouldn't have been odor produced in that state, but I appreciate the gesture anyway, cuz Ick.

"It was hard. I missed you, and the others were scared and angry a lot, but Scott told me you were coming back, and that it was just an accident. Stiles played with me lots and Derek gives really good hugs!" That's too damn precious! I'll bake them cookies tonight.

"But, overall," Ooh, someone's been learning this week's new vocab words! "I like having a pack. It's not so quiet anymore, but it feels warm!" She pats her chest to show me, probably meaning packbonds.

"Hmm, that's good, having a big family is fun." I agree with her before grabbing various ingredients. Today, we are having a North African style breakfast. A crusty style bread called harsha that goes with oil and oregano, or butter and honey, with eggs and tea.

Mom has blood from nearly every country in North Africa, especially Morocco and Egypt. Sunny's dad had blood from a variety of Middle Eastern countries, and mine was Indian, with a small hint of Turkish, Chinese, and Pakistani in there somewhere. That's a lot to explain, so I just say Arab or North African, and Indian. To say that we eat food from everywhere would be an understatement.

"Hey, Layla?" I hum inquiringly, mixing batter. "Am I gonna get magic?" Oh hell, of course she wants magic, what kid wouldn't? Ooookay, gotta do some big sistering.

"I can tell that you have the potential," And that's true based on what my intuition tells me, "But it won't be like mine. It has to wake up like Stiles's magic, too, and I'm not doing that until your older."

"Why not now?" She pouts, setting down the eggs I gave her to mix.

"It's dangerous. Your gonna have to wait, munchkin. I'll let you learn stuff with us, though."

Thankfully, because she's a little angel, she accepts this and sets out 2 small dishes: one with butter and honey and one with olive oil and oregano.

We finish up breakfast shortly after that, and I decide I'm too lazy to clean up, so we end up painting our nails and watching anime and Disney in the den. It's good to just chill with the Sunny Pup because she is a fantastic emotional support sibling, and I've been too busy recently to spend enough time with her.

I head upstairs when I hear the doorbell, knowing it's the pack. At some point, I feel a hint of magic, but it's most likely the boys. I open the door to my family and let them in. The plan is hanging out for a bit, and then Sunny will go to have a sleepover at the sheriffs, probably with Derek leaving as well.

After that, Stiles and I will try to pry Scotty out of his post break up funk, but Stiles hasn't told me how he plans to do that. That tells me we're probably gonna end up grounded. I can honestly say I really don't care, though, because I need to be shaken out of my own funk. Scotty is overtly angsting, but I'm sneaky sulker myself. Sue me, but I'm still capable of being a proper teen.

It's as we pass the kitchen on the way down that I feel it again. The tiniest bit of magic. I stop dead, as I take a look, my jaw dropping in surprise. What the hell?

The kitchen is clean, like IKEA Catalogue clean. The dishes are done, floor mopped, widows wiped, and yep, that black mark on the wall I have never been able to reach is gone!

"Layla? What's wrong?" Scott asks, nudging me with his shoulder, confused.

"Dude, the kitchen is clean.l

"It looks nice?" Stiles tries, also confused.

"Dudes. There is magic in the air and I didn't clean it. It was a wreck after breakfast this morning."

"Danger?" Derek asks, sharply, immediately shifting.

"…No. Just-just a bit odd." I decide, checking my instincts warily. "It should be fine. Let's go."

As I heard them out, ignoring their protests, I notice that the food is still covered on the table, which looks wiped down. Only one dish has gone missing: the honey dish.

XXXXXDEREKXXXXX

I had been planning on taking Sunya to the Sheriff's and maybe watching some movies with the little girl. She was a really adorable kid, sweet as hell, and she reminded me of the some of the Hale pups that died in the fire. It was torture and bliss, but I couldn't really deny the child anything, much to the pack's collective amusement.

It was only the weird emotions slipping through the bonds of the three younger teens that had me turning back after Sunny was in bed with the Sheriff nearby. Scott's been pretty depressed after breaking up with the Argent girl, good fucking riddance, so that wasn't new, but the frustration was interesting. If it was only that, I'd have stayed with the human members of the pack, but Sriles was switching between happy and confused, which was weird as fuck, and Layla, who was a natural at manipulating the bonds, was not managing it at all right now. Miss Magic Jazz Hands, who was always eerily composed and unflappable most of the time, was… sad. Sad, and stressed and anxious and even a bit scared.

That has me tucking in Sunya and heading right the fuck back to Layla's. I'm not even out of the car when I smell the alcohol. These complete fucking morons. These brats seriously went and got drunk.

I'm honestly kinda pissed off. I find them splayed out in the tall grass of the backyard, all holding bottles of liquor. I thought they were smarter than doing dumb rebellious shit like this. Especially Layla!

The thought immediately quenches my anger, and I'm instead filled with shame and guilt. It's hippocritical for me to put that on them when I sure as hell don't have a leg to stand on when it comes to dumb teenage shit. Hell, I got my whole family killed because of it. And Layla already acts way beyond 15, I shouldn't expect more from them. But still, Layla and Stiles are gonna make themselves sick. I try to push down the worry.

Scott, being a werewolf, notices me first. "I can't get drunk anymore, can I?" Poor dumbass sounds so defeated, and I can't help the pity that curbs my mouth.

"Not like this, but there are ways." Scott groans, and slams his fist into the ground, storming off into the house like the star of his own teeen drama. Out of the three of these brats, it's him that makes me feel old as hell.

I look and find Layla and Stiles curled tightly together. Layla is laying on Stiles's chest and he's petting her hair, running his long fingers through from root to end. That's not exactly unusual for this pack though. For the most part, these two are very tactile, especially for humans. No, what's surprising is the emotions around them.

Layla is silent, still upset, and if it wasn't for the depth of her emotional pain, I would wonder if she isn't just a sad kind of drunk. Stiles, however, is no longer happy, and terrifyingly enough, not making any noise or flailing. He seems sad, although, not Layla's consuming upset, and determined. It only takes me a second to realize it's because of the girl resting on him.

I sigh, looking for the emotional barriers that this pack so easily takes a wrecking ball to, hoping they'll keep my raging instincts in check. Pack hurt, comfort pack, comfort - I ruthlessly crush that thought before it can form. Dangerous.

I can't stop from reaching out, though. Coffee, chocolate, cinnamon, paper- "What were you guys thinking?" I ask, trying not to be overt while inhaling as much of that scent of pack as possible.

"I was thinking that I wanted to stop thinking," Layla slurrs, and yep, very drunk. My heart breaks at the way her voice cracks near the end, and my instincts are howling desperately at me to fix this, but I have no clue how to even start. I'm still as fucking useless as ever.

Stiles, with glassy eyes and slow movements, turns sideways and pulls Layla even closer, and I'm wondering when he's gonna realize he's falling in love with her, if he isn't already long gone. Then he reaches out a hand to me as well, and I'm again struck by how these two lunatics accepted me fully into their homes and lives with the kindness of angels and the mischief of devils. I take Stiles's hand and curl into Laylas back, setting my head on top of her silky hair, and give up any resistance I had to them. After the alpha, I can't just walk away from them, not when I can feel this type of warmth and acceptance for the first time in years. Not that there will be an option when I become…alpha.

Stilles tucks his head near mine and presses his lips to the top of Layla's head, only inches from me, and his near amber eyes are still a bit unfocused.

Truthfully, I know what this is about. Between the priestess Angelique, Layla's dream, and the books we've received, we have a basic understanding of the situation; It all ties back to the triskelion, the symbol of the Hale Pack. It starts with three parts of the whole, the Alpha, the Guardian, and the Emissary. The Guardian protects the nemeton, the entity that keeps balance in a region, and keeps the supernatural in check by ruling over them to some degree, hence Layla being referred to as royalty. The Alpha leads a pack to enforce the Guardian's will and laws and to protect the Guardian. The Emissary supports the Alpha and Guardian, tying them down and to each other, while being the peacekeeper and diplomat of the territory. Of course, this is just what we understand so far, and it's grossly oversimplified, but the bottom line is, we're just about to become the most important figures of this supernatural territory.

Additionally, failure on our parts could lead to the literal apocalypse. There are other nemetons regions out there that don't function exactly like our territory, but the Guardian is always massively important, even if they may have other supernaturals for the other positions, like vampires in place of a pack or something else.

I understand her distress, to an extent. I was never trained to be alpha, and definitely won't deserve it. I'm going to be shit at it, for sure. But Layla and Stiles? The girl who woke up from a magical coma to keep me alive? The boy who is brilliant to the point of being able to help train magic and freshly bitten wolves better than me? There isn't a doubt in my mind that they were perhaps the best possible choices for the jobs. It's the only reason I haven't given up all hope on my ability to be Alpha. Time to give Layla a reminder, stubborn girl.

"You're worried about the consequences of your potential failure as Guardian." She flinches, and tries to hide in Stiles's chest, but I push on, trying hard to soften my voice as much as possible. I curl closer to both, bumping my head into Stiles's who, apparently, is a bit insecure himself. "It's gonna be hard, but you were chosen for this. I-I can't think of anyone who could handle it as well as you, can't even imagine someone as worthy. I…trust you, both of you, more than I've trusted anyone in a long time."

The crazy thing was that I wasn't even lying. The two in front of me are perhaps the scariest, most manipulative, little lying shits I've ever met, but you can't fake packbonds, can't fake warmth and understanding and kindness through them. In two short months, I've come to trust them nearly as much as Laura, although we weren't very close for the last several years. It's not like I haven't learned my lesson with Kate. I don't ignore what my instincts say, or dismiss the little things, or try to see the good where it isn't.

it's just that with this pack in Beacon Hills, it's real. I'm almost happy, and I don't hate myself nearly as much as I did before I came back. I really don't think I can go without it again, even if it was possible.

Layla turns onto her back, eyes wide, and the happiness that comes through because of my words makes me smile. I did that, I made them happy. The relief is also oozing off them. I decide I can give them a bit more. "And you know, right? That we are gonna handle it all together? After all, we're a pack."

Both teens nearly dislocate their jaws in surprise, but the moment breaks when Stiles starts to, honest to God, giggle. It's cute. Layla, however, just gives the smallest, sweetest smile, and the scent of their combined happiness is distracting as fuck.

"Yeah," Layla rolls into me, her voice barely a whisper, "we are."

This leads to some insanity where Layla proved she isn't inherently a sad drunk, by singing and dancing wildly with Stiles about how mighty and great an alpha I'll be, and how much they love me, and wanna be pack forever and ever and ever. It's embarrassing as hell, but if anyone ever finds the video I took of it, then I'll just claim it's blackmail.

After that, I spend the next several hours making sure they don't die in their sleep from alcohol poisoning, or choking on vomit. Damn fragile humans.

But,…If it's this pa- no, my pack, then it's okay.

XXXXXLAYLAXXXXX

It's been a little over a week since I woke up and helped Derek heal, several days since we got wasted, but surprisingly, got away with it. We are hanging in the den with Boyd and Isaac, getting books uploaded to our digital library and researching. We've also started our own very basic beastiery on the advice of Aunt Angie. I've taken to wearing the grie-grie in my hair most days. It gives good vibes.

Scott is starting to worry me. Yeah, he's going through a harsh break up, but he's getting worse, not better. Yesterday, he almost bit my head off for taking food off his plate, and I'm not even sure if it was metaphorically or not. He should be here, but he ditched us to sulk or something.

"Suhel? You named the tree Suhel?" Stiles asks, curiously.

"Means moonlight, and all the astrology and numerology personality crap lined up. You'll understand when you meet him." I shrug from my spot sorting books on the rug of the den.

"I'll get to meet the magic tree?" Stiles exclaims excitedly.

"I think so, when he gets stronger. We got to go visit soon, by the way."

"I'd lire to meet the magic tree, too." This comes from Boyd where he's working on the computer on the couch. Isaac nods emphatically. I snort, and tell them they can all go, much to their collective glee.

"So, Layla… I wanted to ask something." Oddly, everyone goes still and focused. I'm getting surprise and alarm, but don't have time to process it or where it's coming from. "I wanted to ask if I could paint you, with your magic form." Oh.

He looks so hopeful, and his puppy dog eyes might be worse than Scott's. It's damn near criminal, really. I don't think I have a choice here…

I hum, holding up two fingers. "You can under 2 conditions. One, it has to stay here at all times until the hunters are dealt with, and if anyone asks, it was a costume. Two, when you paint the marks, you have to not paint them exactly, because there are runes in them. We don't know what they do. Someone might be able to use them against me, recognize them, or replicate them."

Isaac's eyes go wide, and he nods rapidly, "The picture is yours, I just really want to paint it." I can understand that sentiment well enough as an artist myself. A whole wave becomes painted in vivid blue, so lifelike that it seems ready to spill of the canvas and crash through reality. I grin. Totally worth it.

"By the way, Layla, could I have a word with you?" I'm surpksed, but easily follow Boyd upstairs. The tingle of foreign magic remains, but I'm just living with it because I sense nothing bad. I've started leaving out various things to experiment, but I still got no clue what's happening. I really hope it isn't a ghost or something. Fuck that!

"What's up?" I throw myself onto a living room couch, making as many pillows hit the ground as possible, even flopping around a bit. Boyd snickers, shaking his head, but soon takes a seat, giving very serious vibes.

"Isaac." Oh. Yeah, actually he spends the most time with him individually, outside of me. It figures he'd pick something up.

I sigh, "Look, man, I know what you mean, I won't gaslight you. However, I can't reveal anything he hasn't told you himself because that would be breaking his confidence. That said," I raise a hand to quell the frustration and worry rising with his protests, " I can say that the situation is already being handled, and that any harm to my friends would be met with extreme prejudice."

I give a feral grin that is somehow met with relief from my friend rather then the expected horror. I raise my brows at him, a bit disappointed. I count on that smile to make people tremble. Is it broken or something? I pout.

"I believe you." Boyd elaborates, pattting my head softly, and I can't really do anything but hug him in response. Sincerity, affection, relief. Beautiful snow capped mountains almost touch the stars. Damn, I love my friends.

XXXXXXXXXX

It's the day of the full moon. If Scott was acting dickish before, he's acting like a downright asshole now. I even told Isaac and Boyd to stay away from him today, although I'm taking Isaac to complete Step Two in my Operation Bring Back the Deep Blue after school ends. With that done I'll be nearly ready to bust him out of his asshole dad's grasp.

There is some weird girlfriend streaking competition going on with Jackson and Scott, who made out with Lydia today. Allison feels pretty upset, but I haven't really talked to her or Lydia, because apparently, we weren't really on good enough terms to weather the implosion of their respective relationships and that night at the school, even if it had nothing to do with me. They tried visiting when I was napping, but haven't spoken to me since before my crime spree. No, I'm not salty, thank you very much.

Therefore, I'm rather surprised when Allison ambushes me out of nowhere, grabbing my arm and dragging me into a corner with a whispered, "We need to talk."

I stare blankly at her. "You need to remove your hand off me before I remove it off of you." I don't like getting grabbed like that, and we sure as hell aren't close enough for me to not mind.

She recoils, clearly not expecting the hostility, and I'd probably be sorry if she hadn't been ignoring me since their break up, but I can't really help the spike of aggression when someone brings up bad memories like that. "I-Sorry, I just needed to ask you somethings."

"Oho, have I been deemed worthy of your time, oh Allison the Magnificent?" She cringes, and hunches a bit in shame. Guilt, remorse, sadness, desperation.

"I thought you might not want to be friends after the whole thing with Scott. I'm sorry, really. But I need someone to tell me something! Please Layla!" She sounds pretty stressed out, and I can't help soften. The poor girl is going through it. Opportunity.

I blink. That's interesting. "Why'd you even break up anyway."

"He was lying to me, and being shady as hell."

I shrug, "He's dealing with personal shit. You were only dating for like a month and change. Why would he even tell you such personal shit so soon. Did you think that he might not be able to tell you rather than just deciding to keep it from you?"

She looks pretty defeated. "I didn't think of it like that. I guess you would know because you've been friends so long. But he still left us when the murderer was running around the school!"

"To give you guys a chance to get out." I point out bluntly. "I'd understand if you broke up because he is involved in some scary shit, but that's not what this is about. Plus, I assure you, trouble found him, not the other way around." I'm being a bit unfair, but not untrue.

Poor Alison feels like she is close to tears. Now it's time to strike. Sorry girl, this is for all our goods.

"How about this? Meet me this weekend and I'll tell you a bit about what's going on. However, you have to come to my house alone without telling anyone. I promise you won't be harmed or anything shady like that."

"Why the secrecy?" She asks. Curiosity, hope, worry, caution.

"Cuz I don't trust your family." She reels back, shocked. "Come on, don't tell me you haven't noticed that they are hiding something, too."

I stroll off without waiting for a response, knowing I'll be seeing her very soon. Operation Stealing Silver is officially underway.

XXXXXXXXXX

I take Isaac home after school, where Maria, the lovely lady that one of my distant cousins on my Dad's side married, is waiting for us outside. While we aren't really close on the family tree, I've always really respected and looked up to her. This is because she is a very successful lawyer in San Francisco, so you can usually find me glued to her at family gatherings, age gap be damned.

I have a pretty large extended family in the state, only the paternal side though. This gives me a pretty decent net of connections as well, all across the state, and Indians take family connections real serously.

She is here to help Isaac fill out emancipation paperwork and file it as a family favor. She is also who I ended up consulting with for his situation, although very vaguely. I asked a few questions of the Sheriff, but he was getting suspicious, so I opted out for someone who couldn't directly involve themselves without me: Cousin Maria.

She also hands me some paperwork I requested, and gets a copy of the evidence Isaac gave me with strict instructions not to look at it at all. It is only to be used as a last resort, and only when we tell her. I haven't seen it myself, (coward), needing a time where I can have a break down on my own. I'm aware it will probably trigger me, but needs must, for Isaac's sake. This of course freaks her out.

"How bad is this, Layla? Because I'm getting the feeling you're underselling it." She asks when Isaac goes to the restroom.

"Really bad." I tell her honestly, "But the victim won't testify and doesn't want to press charges. If we push it without him, what will happen?"

"Likely, the case will be undermined, and even if we can nail him with the evidence, it won't be the best result, and we will probably have isolated the kid and added trauma." She looks pissed, but as a lawyer she knows how this usually goes. She's the one who taught me after all.

"Right. My first priority is getting him safe, stable, and happy. Besides, there is always the statute of limitations." I give her a toothy, eye crinkling smile.

"I feel like I helped create a monster." She states, but I can feel her pride and amusement.

Maria leaves in a whirl of heels and badassery, Isaac following her. And then, it's time to prepare for the moon.

XXXXXXXXXX

It's only Stiles and I in the den when Scott arrives. I had told Sunya to stay in her room as a precaution, and I'm glad because he's giving me all the bad vibes. I can't even recognize him at first, his aura like a distorted fun house mirror of him normally.

Dragging the bag of full moon things we got recently so it's near the chain wall, Stiles and I fall into that beautiful state where our plotting is in perfect harmony.

"You think I'm gonna let you put these on and chain me up like a dog?" Scott is watching Sriles with the energy of a predator. Anger, disdain, hunger. Oh, that last one is very, very bad. But really, Scott should know better than assuming Stiles is the only threat. And he should really know better than to turn his back on me.

He's so busy doing his predator thing with Stiles, he doesn't even sense me bringing the bat down on the back of his head, hard. Stiles pounces on his stunned state, managing to handcuff both his wrists to a chain on the wall. It will do until Derek can get here.

I yank Sriles away before Scott starts going nuts, lunging and trying to break out. It's fucking horrifying to see some you love like this. Eventually, Derek arrives, and secures him further without much trouble, despite Scott's best efforts.

We end up leaving the den pretty soon with all the vitriol Scott starts spitting at everyone. It's so utterly poisonous, I honestly didn't even know he had it in him. He goes at everyone. I take a blue eyed Derek away when Scott even starts talking shit on the Hales.

We end up upstairs in the much less used living room, doing our best to ignore Scott's words and roaring. We need soundproofing. I mentally add it to the list of things I have to do. I'm curled between Derek and Sriles, doing my best to not think about how my best friend might secretly think I'm a self-important, know it all bitch. It's safe to assume the vibe is killed for this full moon celebration.

In the morning, he's back to normal, sweet Scotty, and he gets thrown head first into control and bond training, hoping to decrease the Alphas influence. We all do our best to forget last night, but…some things can't be easily forgotten. Words most of all.

XXXXXXXXXX