Guardian

I woke up to the sound of someone pounding at my door. I was startled, not remembering how I got home or what had happened. I realized that I was still in the red dress, and I sighed softly. The banging was incessant, and it was starting to get annoying. The clock said that it was 6 am, which only continued to confuse me.

"I'm coming, chill the f out!" I yelled, stumbling down the stairs to unlock the door. I unlocked and opened it, and arched a brow when I saw Stiles standing in front of me. "It's six in the morning. What is going on?"

"We thought Derek killed and kidnapped you? I checked on Allison cause Scott was freaking out and she said he took you both home but Derek was with us and he's a werewolf but then you weren't answering any calls or texts so I thought he killed you!" He was talking at the speed of light and it took a few seconds for me to register everything he said.

I silently pulled him into a hug, a smile on my lips. I felt him tense up, looking down at me before wrapping his arms around me. "I'm alright. But I have some things to tell you and Scott. Tell him to get over here. I'll get some breakfast started."

Stiles nodded and I allowed him to step into the door while I headed into the kitchen. I knew that I didn't want to tell them everything, but they needed to know enough. I had just started to put the pieces together myself, and Stiles was the best solver that I knew.

My hands worked absentmindedly, starting to make pancakes. I loved to bake and cook, and it kept my head and hands busy, and it was something that I had already done with my mom. It gave me a piece of her, just like the viper gave me a piece of my dad.

Stiles came into the room, and about five minutes later Scott arrived too. I had just finished the food, putting it on plates in front of them. They looked curiously at me, and I shrugged.

"The night after the night in the woods, I had a nightmare. I don't really remember it," that was a half lie, "But I woke up in my mothers drawing room, hands covered in charcoal, with some monster drawn on the canvas." The boys looked even more confused, which mirrored my own feelings.

"And I haven't been 100% honest. I know Derek Hale. Well. Him and my older brother were extremely close. And if you're looking to trust someone, I would trust him."

I leaned against the table, tapping my fingers anxiously as I waited for one of them to speak.

"I still don't trust him. And I'm hurt that you didn't tell us. But I suppose it's a good thing you have an in with him." Stiles said finally.

"Derek bit me, he's the reason behind all of this! I can't trust him either. But I trust you Cassie." Scott paused, frowning deeply. "But you didn't shift last night? No fangs or claws or facial hair?" he asked.

I shook my head, looking down. "Two times, once by Derek and once in my dream, I was told I would end up being powerful. And Derek mentioned my mother. So I think that whatever I am is personal. Right now, Scott is the bigger concern. What exactly happened last night?" I said, pushing the conversation away from myself.

Scott and Stiles launched into a retelling of the night before, explaining the hunters and his conversation with Derek. I felt like I had memories under the surface, like I had heard these stories as a child, like I should know things about the supernatural. I guess that I probably had been exposed, if Derek was a werewolf, the rest of the Hales probably were too. Which means my mom and dad were involved in the supernatural, and maybe even Blaise. This realization itself almost sent me spiraling into a rabbit hole, but I was shocked back into reality by my Stiles slapping the table.

"Well, I think everything is clear. Hunters are bad, Scott needs help, Cassie is a problem for another day, and it's a damn good thing that we're all alive." Stiles said, standing up. "By the way, those pancakes were amazing, you need to cook more for us." he added with a cheeky grin. I just nodded, waving them out. I wanted to do some research, dig through the house to find something that would help me.

I spent the rest of the weekend going through my parents journals. They had scraps explaining about werewolves and the supernatural, but nothing about my mom and the powers that she had. I was getting frustrated, almost to the point of snapping. I needed help, and part of me knew I should reach out to Derek, or even Blaise , but I couldn't bring myself to.

I didn't want Blaise to come home. Not because I didn't love him, I did, but I didn't want to put him in danger, or pull him away from his life. He had finally gotten his life on track, and I refused to derail it. As for Derek, something in me wasn't exactly sure. Six years was a long time to be away, and people change. I didn't know him any more than he knew me.

I had been ignoring Jackson and Lydia all weekend, as well as Danny. They obviously didn't know about the supernatural, and from the last few days, I didn't want them involved. This was dangerous. And if I had to take a guess, my parents probably lost their lives because of it. Swallowing roughly, I made my way into the bathroom, getting ready for school.

Lightwoods always are presentable and put together, and that included Monday mornings after the worst week in a while. I braided my hair back into a ponytail before picking out my outfit. Settling on a gray sweater, a black skirt, tights and black heeled boots, along with a leather jacket, I made my way to school.

School passed quickly, apologizing to Lydia for being M.I.A and promising that it wouldn't happen again. I was heading out with Stiles when we paused, seeing two people talking. Scott and Allison were standing in front of the school, but I was too far away to hear what they were saying, even with my increased hearing.

"Is he apologizing?" I asked, looking over at Stiles.

"I hope so."

We stood in silence waiting for him to finish talking so we could all head to lacrosse. Sure I was just watching, but we went together nonetheless.

Allison was smiling as she turned away and got into a car, and Scott turned to wave.

"I'm gonna go with yes," I said with a grin as the brunette came over, but his face was different, less happy. "Scott?" I asked softly, looking up at him.

"Her dad is a hunter, one of the ones who shot me last night." he said, his face pale, and any joy void.

"Scott, okay, that okay, we can work with that," I tried to say, calming down the boy, but he was already brushing past us and towards the locker room. I looked at Stiles, concern on both of our faces, before we both hurried to catch up with him.

He pushed through the door, and I went to follow him before Stiles blocked me with his arm. "What?" I asked, looking up at him with confusion.

"Boys locker room Cassie." He said, a duh tone evident. I frowned, debating whether or not to say screw it and go in anyways. Usually I am all for breaking the rules, but I really had no intention of seeing half dressed lacrosse players, well, not right now at least.

I sighed and nodded, looking at him. "Please calm him down and talk some sense into him." I mumbled, leaning against the door as I watched Stiles go in. I could faintly hear him trying to calm his best friend down, and it seemed to work, because his heart rate was decreasing. After a few minutes I pulled away and made my way to the field, sitting down on the bench.

Jackson came up to me as I waited, looking me up and down. "What the hell is going on with you. Since when are you so buddy buddy with Stilinski and McCall?"

I glared, raising a brow. "They're my best friends, just like you and Lydia?"

He just scoffed, grabbing his lacrosse stick. "Somethings up with McCall, and you know I trust you Andie, but I'm going to figure out what it is." he spat, walking away from me.

I sighed softly, shaking my head. It was rare that I was on the receiving end of jackass jackson, but apparently Scott was pushing his buttons today. I couldn't blame him entirely, Scott was stealing his popularity, and his place on the team. Still didn't give him the right to be an asshole.

Scott and Stiles were finally out on the field, and Jackson was lined up in front of the goal to work on defense. Something about this didn't seem good. Scott hefted his stick, straightening his shoulders before charging. But Jackson slammed him straight onto his back, more aggression used than was necessary.

I winced, and the concern only deepened when Finstock yelled. For some reason, Scott got up, getting ready to go again. I could feel the anger radiating off of him, and I was concerned that he was going to hurt Jackson. Then his eyes flashed gold, and I was on my feet, ready to run onto the field.

I caught Stiles' eyes, gesturing at Scott, but both of us were too late. Scott had already slammed him into the ground, and I could hear the crack as he hit the ground. I was already running onto the field, gesturing at Stiles to grab the partially wolfed out Scott as I ran to Jackson.

"Jackson, you okay?" I murmured, my eyes flickering between him and my other two friends. Lydia and Danny were beside me, and I could tell he was in a lot of pain. I grimaced, looking at Lydia to take care of it. As much as it pained me, I was more worried about Scott. I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the groan from Jackson and the glare from Lydia as I raced towards the locker room.

This time I ignored my previous trepidation, pushing my way into the door. I could hear Stiles panicked breathing and Scotts growls. I grabbed Stiles' hand pulling him behind me, and I wasn't thinking, I was acting.

"Fire extinguisher," I mumbled, as I stepped forward. Making eye contact with Scott, I made sure his focus was on me as I dove away from Stiles. He followed me, and jumped down and I scrambled away from him before lunging to grab his wrists. I tried to pin him to the lockers, but he outweighed me and was much stronger than I was.

"Scott, CALM DOWN" I yelled, and for a second he seemed to pause, but soon enough the moment of clarity was gone. His nails clawed at my arm and I instinctively let go, gripping my bloody arm.

Just before he could swipe me again, Stiles was spraying him down with the fire extinguisher foam. It seemed to shock Scott back into humanity, stumbling back.

"Stiles? Cassie?" he asked, blinking in surprise. Stiles was at my side, looking at the gashes across my forearm.

"Well you just tried to kill us, slashed Cassie's arm open. It's just like I told you, anger is the trigger. It's your pulse rising." Stiles explained, handing me a towel to wrap my arm. I could tell that it was healing, not incredibly fast, but still fast,

"But that's lacrosse. It's a pretty violent game if you haven't noticed!"

"Well it's gonna get a lot more violent if you kill someone on the field!" Stiles countered.

"Stiles is right Scotty, you need to find a way to get out of the game on Saturday." I said gently.

"But, but I'm first line." Scott said, and my chest ached at the disappointment on his face.

"Scott, you just clawed Cassie. You were not in control. You can't play." Stiles paused before looking over at me. "But Cassie, what did you do back there?" I looked over at him in confusion. "Do what?"

"You made Scott freeze, and your eyes flashed bright silver."

I shook my head. "I didn't, I don't know," I admitted. I didn't know what I had done. "Maybe it has to do with whatever I am." I said softly.

"It's okay. We'll figure it out. Whatever you are, you calmed Scott down. That's helpful. But you aren't healing as fast and you aren't as strong. You're not a werewolf."

"We should talk to Derek," I said after a few moments of silence, looking between the two boys. "Cause I want answers."

-----☾-----

I had headed home pretty quickly after the encounter with Scott in the locker room. The scratches on my arm were almost healed, but they still stung. I didn't blame Scott, I knew that he wasn't in control, which is why we needed Derek's help. Sure, the guy wasn't at the top of people I trust with my entire life, but right now he was my best option to figure out what I am, and what my parents were.

I ran a hand through my knotted hair as I reached the front door, carefully unlocking it. I shivered slightly as I stepped inside, the uneasy feeling that I couldn't seem to shake growing. I let out an audible groan, the desire to break something increasing. I tossed my backpack and keys on the counter, making my way up to my bedroom.

I was irritated with Derek for not telling me everything, my parents for dying and keeping the supernatural a secret, and Blaise for not being here to help. I wasn't even sure where all this anger and emotion was coming from. I mean, had I dealt with anything that had happened in the last few weeks in a healthy way? No. Did I have time to deal with it? Absolutely not.

Stepping into my bedroom, a shiver ran down my spine. I looked around the room, rubbing my arms as the goosebumps rose. Why the hell was my window open? It wasn't open, I always attempted to lock it. It was something my parents instilled in me. I froze, my hand slipping into the pocket of my jacket, my fingers tightening around my knife.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I was gonna die, from some robber. Just perfect.

A hand grabbed my arm, pinning me to the door. I let out a scream, instinctively slashing the knife across their chest.

"Cass! Cass, chill out, it's me!" The voice yelled, hand releasing me to touch their now wound.

I scrambled away from them, reaching to flick on the light so I could see whoever was in my room. Much to my surprise I was met with Derek, gripping his chest where I had cut him.

"Why the hell are you in my room! You know where the key is! Why would you come in through the window? You scared the shit out of me!" I yelled, stepping off the wall to smack him again.

"We needed to talk! Why do you have a knife on you?" He yelled back, glaring back at me.

I sighed, rubbing my arm. "Jesus. Fine. I'm sorry I cut you. Maybe next time, wait until I'm home. Or use the front door." I spat, still annoyed with him.

"What happened to your arm?" He asked, concerned in his eyes as he stepped towards me.

"An accident. It's healing. Not as fast as that wound on your chest, but still faster than humanly possible. So we do need to talk." I said, moving past him to sit on my bed. I leaned against the back wall, grabbing a pillow and hugging it to my chest.

Derek looked at me cautiously before moving to sit on the edge of my bed, rubbing his hands uncomfortably. I raised a brow, irritation obvious on my face, wanting him to start.

"The Hales have always been werewolves. Unlike Scott, it is genetic, and we weren't bitten. Your mother, well, we aren't really sure what happened to her or how she became what she did. Talia always called her a Guardian. That's what we called her. She had powers, similar to a werewolf in some ways. She could hear and smell a little better, heal a little faster, and was a bit more strong and agile than a normal human. But no fangs or claws, obviously. She had this power, my mom called it charmspeak. She was good at it too, able to get people, and werewolves, to do what she said."

"That's what I did in the locker room," I murmured, rubbing my eyes with surprise.

"You used charm speak?" Derek asked, surprise evident on his face.

I nodded, pursuing my lips. "Scott wolfed out," I raised my arm lightly, "only for a moment, I got him to pause, but it wasn't very strong."

Derek nodded, brow furrowed. "It takes practice, and some people have an easier time than others. Like I said, your mom, she was a natural. Always made me clean my room."

I laughed, a bubble of sadness in my chest. Hearing about her like this made me miss her. She was like me so much more than I even knew. Part of me wanted to ask about the nightmares and the drawing, but I held back. Maybe it was best if I kept that to myself, at least from Derek.

"Did my Dad know? Did Blaise know? Did something supernatural kill my parents?" The questions rolled off my tongue faster than I could even stop them.

"Your dad knew. Blaise did not. Your parents wanted to keep you both out of this world. Obviously you were involved by fate." Derek laughed weakly, and I shook my head. "But I don't know about your parents. I mean, I was barely 16 when they died. But there's a possibility that something supernatural caused it." He said.

I swallowed back a small cry, an ache in my chest growing. Derek gently reached out to squeeze my knee but I waved him off. I didn't want his sympathy.

"Scott and Stiles don't trust you. And you're slowly gaining my trust. But he's a bigger problem. You need to stop being so intimidating and actually help him. But they're smarter than you think, and knowing them, you're gonna feel the price of that intelligence." I said calmly.

Derek sighed, pulling away from me. "He's sixteen."

"So am I. So were you at one point." I countered.

He pursed his lips, a glare on his face. "You're just like your mother. All that sass and your dad's intelligence, but lacking a shred of respect and common sense."

I knew that he didn't necessarily mean it as a complement, but I took it as one. A small grin flickered across my lips as Derek stood, looking me up and down.

"Clean up that arm." he said calmly as he headed towards my window.

"Use the front door," I replied, but he climbed out the window anyway, shutting it behind him.