𝟕. ❙𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫: 𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

❛ 𝑮𝑯𝑶𝑺𝑻𝑭𝑨𝑪𝑬 ❜

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•☆.⭒✻❙ 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑: 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐎𝐍 ❙✻⭒.☆•

❝ 𝐢'𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧. ❞

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𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑷𝑶𝑾𝑬𝑹 𝑶𝑭 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬

𝒉𝒖𝒆𝒚 𝒍𝒆𝒘𝒊𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒏𝒆𝒘𝒔

❛ it's strong and it's sudden and it's cruel sometimes, but it might just save your life; that's the power of love ❜

𝐴𝐹𝑇𝐸𝑅 𝑆𝑇𝐼𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝑂𝐿𝐸𝑁𝐸 had lost Scott McCall, they practically jumped into Stiles' Jeep and took off to track him down. They knew that because of the information Scott had received, there was a good possibility that he would find Derek and do something he'd most definitely regret. Jolene knew that could end fatally. She knew first hand how dangerous Derek Hale could be.

Knowing Derek is a werewolf and Allison being human, they became quite worried. Stiles drove down to the Argent house so they could see if Allison was truly home and safe, but that required knocking on the door. Jolene offered to do so since she was friends with Allison.

Jolene went to the front door and rang the doorbell. Only a few moments later did Mrs. Argent open the door. Jolene greeted, "Hi, Ms. Argent. You don't know me- or maybe you do. I don't know what you know, I'm not a mind reader. That would be really cool though-"

"Allison!" Her mother yelled, hoping to escape the ironic hellscape of Jolene's rambling.

Soon enough, Allison walked around the corner and took her mother's place at the door. "Hey, Jolene. It's good to see you."

Allison looked to Jolene, seeing as how she clearly needed something, but the only reason she was there was to make sure that Allison wasn't mutilated. Jolene wasn't sure how to get out of the situation, so she just stared a moment before running away, leaving Allison insanely confused.

Jolene rushed back to his Jeep and frantically got back in, rushing Stiles to start driving, leaving Allison lost and confused.

Jolene informed Stiles that Allison was fine. She was now out of sight, out of mind. On this full moon night, there was far too much responsibility for these two. A few hours ago, Stiles was trying to figure out what to wear that Jolene might like, but now he was chasing after a werewolf with that very girl. And it was the exact same for Jolene.

Not once did Stiles believe that Jolene would actually want to speak to him. He was convinced that she had never thought of him once. All Stiles wanted was to have a history, a present, and a future with this girl. Even to be in a car with her was more than he could have ever dreamed. Stiles cared and admired her deeply without knowing her very well. That would be alienating to Jolene had she known about it.

Not one person, not even her family, saw Jolene, the artist. No one saw Jolene, the daughter and niece. No one saw Jolene, the cursed. No one saw Jolene, the strong siren. No one saw Jolene. All anyone saw was a stubborn, pretty girl with no intellectual value.

Stiles and Jolene had no concept of how long they had been driving for, all they knew was that it was light out now. They had been awake all night, both stressing about where Scott could be. They checked the school, lacrosse fields, hospitals, downtown, sheriff's station, even wandered the forest for a bit -- that was where Stiles had lent her his zip up sweater he was wearing seeing as how she was only in a short dress.

Still, Scott and Derek were nowhere to be found.

Jolene, while they were out looking, did help Stiles kill time by telling him all she knew about werewolves. Truthfully, most of it was what their weaknesses were, but she was able to help him out a little bit. Still, Stiles didn't know how she was aware of all this. Jolene did not intend to fill him in on that.

Stiles had come to notice something about Jolene that he hadn't really seen before. Jolene didn't look tired even after an entire night of searching for Scott. She had these permanent dark circles under her eyes, her hair was always a mess no matter what she did, and her freckled skin was always pale. Jolene too never acted tired. They had been up all night and Stiles was pretty exhausted, but Jolene's frantic and hyper state never changed.

Stiles did also realize that Jolene seems to ramble a lot. She goes off on these tangents that really make no sense whatsoever, but she stays locked in, completely focused on what she was saying and Stiles held on every word. He enjoyed witnessing her mind wander.

Stiles found all these traits interesting and appealing. Stiles admired how her eyes shimmered like stars. How her hair was always a mess, but still framed her face perfectly. How easy-going she was with everything, yet still she was such a busy-brain. If anything, she matched Stiles perfectly. They were far too similar.

Stiles and Jolene kept driving around to the point where they had finally found Scott walking shirtless on the side of the road. Stiles pulled up next to him and Scott climbed in the back seat, having seen Jolene in the front. He was quite worried and confused about her being there as she greeted, "The one and only, Scott McCall. Fun night?"

"Why are you even here?" Scott breathed out, not wanting to be interrogated or threatened again.

Scott and Stiles both hadn't realized that when Jolene is tired, she gets angry and spiteful, so very quickly, Scott leaned back in his seat when Jolene turned right around. "Listen to me very carefully, McCall. I have a generational hatred towards werewolves. I smile when I think about the Hale house burning down because that is how much I despise them. I have been up all night looking for a teenage werewolf that I would rather stick an extra large piece of mountain ash, wrapped in wolfsbane, rolled in mistletoe up his ass than even look at. That says a lot about how much I'm willing to help because I'd prefer you not rip someone's throat out. So, I'm going to help you manage this furry little problem and you're going to listen to me because I know more than you. And if you even think about pulling some stunt like this again, I swear on your mother's grave, I will give you a lobotomy."

Jolene turned to face front while Scott was cowering in the back, terrified of the threats he had just received. Stiles looked in the mirror and saw that horrified expression, so he eased, "In simpler, less murdery terms, we're gonna help you through this. You know, I had a boa once, a werewolf'll be nothing."

Stiles was vastly underestimating how difficult it would be to help Scott deal with the fact that he was a werewolf. He had not seen what Jolene had, he had not been attacked like Jolene had, not one of these boys understood how truly dangerous the supernatural world could be. Scott had gotten a taste from being a werewolf to a siren taking over his mind, but Stiles had no clue what was in store.

Stiles had taken Scott back to his house since it was the closest to where they were and he wanted Scott to actually get some rest after the night he had. Right after, Jolene had directed him to her house, Stiles happy to take her home.

When they pulled up to her house, Stiles was a little surprised to see that she didn't live in this lavish, beautiful house like Lydia did. Instead, it was small, Victorian-esque, vines all over it, and clearly an older building. Contrary to what many people at school believe, Jolene's family doesn't have a lot of money. Only her aunt Bowie does.

"Thanks for help me with Scott." Stiles expressed as he parked at the side of the road just in front of her lawn. Jolene, still dressed in Stiles's sweater, shrugged her covered shoulders. "Well, it was either be tortured by a party or make sure Scott didn't become a mass murderer, so...I picked the more fun option."

"You don't like parties?" Stiles asked with shock laced in his tone, assuming that she would be in the same boat as Lydia. It couldn't be more of the opposite. "Hate them. It's just a bunch of unwanted guys asking me to dance or give them a blowjob or something."

"Guys ask you for that?" Stiles eyes widened, shocked that someone would actually be so bold. Jolene nodded her head as she undid her seat belt. Jolene gets a lot of attention from guys just as Lydia does. Neither of them really want it, they both find the guys who throw themselves at the girls incredibly annoying. They're usually sexist and disgusting, which does them no good. Both Jolene and Lydia want something meaningful, which Lydia already had. Jolene didn't want anything meaningful with anyone other than Stiles.

"Hey, I mean, if people think you're my boyfriend, maybe they'll leave me alone." Jolene expressed, remembering how Stiles had saved her from one of those very men that night. Stiles rested one of his hands on the top of his steering wheel, brushing off, "I don't mind saving you from gross guys. "I'm like your Batman."

"I've never seen any of the Batman movies." Jolene expressed, always having been more of a Marvel person

"Okay, well, now I kinda hate you." Stiles joked, referencing what she had said about his lack of admiration for horror movies a few hours before. Jolene did laugh, pushing some hair behind her ear, which was a small nervous habit of hers. It only seemed to occur with Stiles around.

Speaking of whom, Stiles' eyes couldn't move away from her face. Her smiled brought forth his own, feeling like an angel had blessed his soul all because she was happy. His trance of endearment was broken momentarily when he noticed something behind Jolene. He saw this grown man laying on her property. Understandably, he was concerned, "Um...Jolene, there's a man sleeping on your lawn."

"What?" Jolene turned around, incredibly confused by that sentence, but every wonder she might have had was answered when she saw her father laying in the middle of her lawn. It was nothing new.

Jolene let out a tired breath, not really in the mood to deal with this after she had stayed up all night with Stiles in attempts to find Scott. Jolene hopped out of the car and kept the door open since she did look back at Stiles. "I'm sorry, it's just my dad. Thanks for driving me home, Stiles. I'll see you at school."

Jolene went to close the door, ready to deal with this usual occurrence in the Dalton home. However, she stopped the door when Stiles suddenly interjected, "Well, wait."

Jolene opened the door fully, looking expectantly at Stiles, who offered, "Do you need help like bringing him inside or anything?"

"No, no. I've dragged him from further, it's fine. It gave me really good biceps." Jolene waved off. "Thank you anyway."

Jolene sent him one last grateful smile before she closed the door. Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and began to tap his fingers against his steering wheel in contemplation. He felt horrible that she had to deal with this situation on her own. He wasn't even aware of this. Stiles knew this girl's eye colour by heart, her favourite colour, the sport she plays, but he didn't know this. Stiles didn't know Jolene personally, but that wasn't from lack of desire.

Stiles watched as she tried to shake Mick awake, but it clearly wasn't working. So, she tried to pick him up and drag him inside, but he was heavy, she was in a tight dress, and was already tired. Stiles let out a breath, feeling guilty that she was dealing with this on her own. Hurriedly, Stiles got out of his car and headed straight over to Jolene, who was concerned by his presence. "Stiles, you don't have to-"

"I want to." Stiles interrupted, wanting her to put away her pride.

"Stiles-"

"Jo, just let me help you." Jolene immediately had this strange feeling in her stomach when he used that nickname. Her entire life, Jolene has hated that nickname. Everyone she knows has tried to use it -- Mick, Bowie, Lydia, Danny -- but she always rejected it. Although, when Stiles called her Jo, her heart fluttered and her cheeks turned red, but what was new when talking to Stiles Stilinski?

Jolene grabbed her dad's hands and Stiles, his legs. The two of them together were able to carry him inside with a bit of struggle. They got him to the master bedroom and laid him down on the bed. Stiles let her deal with getting him situated, which was not his place to aid with. Jolene took off his jacket and closed the blinds. She too called his work and called in sick for him. She knew that there was no way he would get up in time.

When Jolene was finished parenting her father, she went over to Stiles, who was waiting at her front door. She sent him a friendly smile and expressed her gratitude, "Thank you so much for helping me. You didn't have to do that."

"It was nothing." Stiles brushed off, he being more than ecstatic to help Jolene with anything.

"Oh. I should give you this back." Jolene suddenly remembered that she was still wearing Stiles' zip-up sweater. She was quick to take it off and hold it out for Stiles. He genuinely considered letting her keep it, wanting her to have a piece of his heart to keep and cherish, but that was such a long shot.

Stiles took his sweater back. "Oh, right. Yeah, thanks."

Jolene nodded her head and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet to her heels. "So, I, um...I guess I'll see you at school."

Stiles nodded his head as well, holding out his hand for her to shake while simultaneously, Jolene went to fist bump him. Instantly, they both despised themselves for being so incredibly awkward that they were barely able to be functioning human beings around each other.

They switched their gestures, but couldn't figure out how to physically say goodbye. To save them from more embarrassment, Stiles lightly tapped her nose with his finger, that being the first thing that came to his mind. Understandably due to its eccentricity in nature, Stiles walked right out the door as soon as possible. Jolene was left frozen, confused by what had just happened while Stiles walked back to his car, hitting his head with his hand to scold himself for being so insufferably hopeless. In all fairness, they both were.

❝ 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥. 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐭? 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞, 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞. ❞

:𝒑𝒔𝒚𝒄𝒉𝒐

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