Unforgiven ▹ Teen Wolf [03]

01; and so it begins

"Son of a bitch." Rachel snapped, shoving her phone back into the pocket of her signature leather jacket. She'd been meaning to call Scott or Stiles as soon as she arrived in Beacon Hills, but the storm raging overhead blocked any chance of that— it may also have had something to do with the fact that she was currently driving down an obscure back road that she was almost certain wasn't actually considered a road by any government standards.

Even her car radio was nothing but static; the only reason she knew to avoid the highway was a news check before left the motel she'd stayed in overnight. The lady on television seemed so certain when she referenced the highway as the only way in and out of Beacon Hills, but it was clear she'd never been to the small town; or any town, for that matter. For every highway, there were two, three, four back roads.

Not all of them were on maps, nor were they maintained nearly as well as a road should be, but they were roads nonetheless. Potholes and sharp turns didn't bother Rachel; she'd had her fair share of high intensity car chases— the Porsche, however, didn't seem to be a very big fan of the deeper potholes. It had made a few questionable noises as she floored it down the dilapidated road, and even seemed to emit some steam after she decided against slowing down for a rather large puddle (which was in fact a flooded stream making its way across the road), but as long as it kept going, Rachel wasn't complaining.

She was almost there, anyway. At least, she hoped so. The clock read 11:14, and if she had to stop and lift one more tree off the road, she was definitely going to be late. She was already showing up relatively unannounced— the only people who knew were Lydia and.. someone she wasn't supposed to know at all. God, she hoped her hours of lie rehearsal weren't going to be needed.

"Shit!" Rachel slammed on her breaks as she rounded a corner to find yet another tree across the road, a loud groan escaping her lips. "I hate trees. I frickin' hate 'em."

She reluctantly unbuckled her seatbelt and turned her headlights on high before stepping back out into storm. A gust of wind and rain smacked her in the face as soon as she stood up, and the door slammed shut by itself when she let go of it.

The rain? Tolerable. But the wind? God, she hated wind. All it did was make her own hair slap her in the face repeatedly.

"Okay, screw this." Rachel took the elastic off of her wrist and used it to tie back her now-grown out hair as she looked over the dead tree laying across the road— it was bigger around than she was, but thankfully it was lifted far enough off the pavement by branches that hadn't fully broken during the fall, so she could still get her hands underneath it to lift.

Just as she took a step towards the tree, she was stopped by the sound of a vehicle approaching. Rachel cringed resisting the urge to roll her eyes as she turned around just in time to watch a pickup truck screech to a halt. For a moment, she didn't think it was going to stop on the water-covered roads, but to her relief, it came to a stop just feet behind her Porsche.

She couldn't see inside due to the blindingly bright headlights that refused to dim, but soon enough, the door opened and someone stepped out.

"Need some help?" A man yelled over the rustling of trees as he jogged over towards her, shielding his eyes from the rain with a hand.

No. She thought, but smiled politely and nodded, turning back to the tree. "Sure, two's better than one. Gotta warn you though, I don't think the wind's on our side."

"Is it ever?" He chuckled, looking for a moment before finding a small clear spot beneath the tree to lift from. "On three?"

Rachel nodded, though she wasn't sure if he saw— she could only really see a silhouette in the bright lights and pouring rain, and that was with flawless vision, but she didn't really need his help. She could lift it herself if needed, and frankly, she would've been better off. An ordinary human man's strength in comparison to hers was an absolute joke. Rachel doubted the help would even make much of a difference, but nonetheless, she let him take the lead and prepared to lift.