Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me.

So after browsing around the fanfiction section of Teen Wolf for some Derek/OC stories (because I couldn't resist), I decided to write my own version. As a parody. I had lots of fun writing it, especially since I never write anything comical. Read and review?

This is a parody and is not meant to be taken seriously.

Mary and the Wolves

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Looking back on everything, Mary would conclude that her trekking through the woods of Beacon Hills one lazy afternoon is what started all that came afterwards.

The eighteen year old girl grumbled to herself as she continued weaving her way through the trees of one of the many woods spanning around the small, nondescript town of Beacon Hills. An hour into her hike and she was already regretting it – she had homework to finish, dammit, and her parents would definitely start getting moderately worried if she didn't return home soon. She hadn't seen them since morning, when the family had parted ways for the day. She had been on her way home from school when the urge to explore her new surroundings – they had just moved into the town several days ago – overcame her and so she pulled over, parked her car on the side of the road, and began her voyage into the forest.

That was an hour ago. And now she was hopelessly lost.

Why did the woods have to be so damn big?

A sudden sound from up ahead caught her attention a moment later and she paused, ducking behind a tree that did nothing at all to shield her. A worried crease appeared between her brows – she had read up on the wildlife of the town, and nothing had particularly jumped up at her as being dangerous enough to stay away from the forests. Stupid Mary, she chided herself, pressing her body closer to the rough bark. It's still the woods, and you're out in the middle of nowhere, with a dead cellphone. There could be murderers hiding out in here.

"I could have sworn this was it," a male voice floated up to her ears, a hint of a whine detectable. "I left it right here."

Mary blinked. That didn't sound like a murderer – but what did she know? She had never encountered a murderer before. And she hoped to keep it that way.

"I saw the body," the voice continued, and she immediately retracted her previous thought. "The deer came running. I dropped my inhaler."

She blinked again, slowly beginning to inch away. A murderer talking about dropping his inhaler. A murderer with asthma. How quaint.

She was so focused on making her escape as quiet as possible that the voice's next words didn't completely register – not until a second one, also young sounding, spoke. "I'll just look over here I guess," it declared and steady footsteps began making their way over to where she abruptly froze.

A squeak escaped her lips. I'm so sorry Mom, Dad, she thought. I didn't even graduate high school. Man, what a way to go. Just please, leave my body intact.

Her body twitched on its own and a twig snapped under her foot – she instinctively glanced down, wincing, and then looked up.

Straight into a pair of wide, brown eyes staring at her from several feet away.

Mary screamed.

The boy screamed back.

Their short, delayed screaming fest over, the boy's – because that's all he was, she realized, looking about her age, possibly even younger – shoulders slouched down and he heaved a great sigh. "Jesus Christ, don't do that!" He spluttered out at her, one hand making its way to his heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack, dude. Seriously."

Mary's mouth opened and closed a few times. "Excuse me!? Give you a heart attack? How do you think I feel, overhearing you talking about – about bodies!"

The boy's mouth snapped shut at that and he averted his eyes uncomfortably, but whatever he had to say for himself got interrupted by a second set of footsteps and another teenager appeared, glancing wildly between the two.

"What's wrong, Stiles?" He exclaimed, staring down at his friend. "I heard screams."

The one dubbed Stiles sent a mild glare Mary's way. "Nothing's wrong," he muttered out, and Mary deduced he was slightly embarrassed at having been caught screaming. "Just some girl creeping about."

Said girl's jaw twitched at his words. "I am creeping about!? I'm just an innocent passerby who just happened to get lost—"

A cough came behind her, and her words caught off – slowly, her brain seemed to realize that the two in front of her had fallen completely silent, eyes wide as they stared at whoever – whatever – made the noise behind her.

Her breath caught in her throat, Mary turned around – straight into a wall of black standing mere inches away from her nose.

She screamed. Again – at least until a large hand clamped down over her mouth, stifling the noise.

Her heart beating wildly in her chest, Mary followed the hand to the arm and then to its owner's face – a dark haired man stared down at her, pale eyes glaring down at her own. "Shut up," he barked out, and something at the back of her mind jumped. Run away, it suggested.

Mary nodded frightfully, and the hand retracted itself. So there really is a murderer here, she thought absent mindedly, stumbling backwards to the company of the two teenagers. One of them caught her, his hands gripping her tightly.

The man's eyes moved away from her face to glare out at all of them. "What are you doing here? This is private property."

"Should have built a fucking fence then," the words escaped Mary's mouth before she could even realize what she said, thankfully too quietly for the man – murderer – to hear from where he was. Or perhaps not, she gulped as his eyes suddenly jumped to hers again.

One of the guys behind her managed to splutter something out like an excuse, or an apology, before the one still gripping her pulled her backwards behind them. "Oh yeah, give the possible murderer even more of a reason to kill us," he – S something – muttered to her out of the corner of his mouth. Mary narrowed her eyes at him.

"So sorry," she mumbled back sarcastically.

When Mary tuned herself back out of her inner musings, the possible murderer was gone and the two before her were chatting about someone named Derek. She blinked owlishly at them, confused.

"Derek who?" She asked and the two boys jumped, heads swivelling to her as if they just remembered her presence. She raised an eyebrow, the shakiness of the encounter slowly wearing off. If the guy was going to kill them, they would have already been dead.

"Derek Hale," the one with the buzz cut – the S one – said slowly, staring at her. "You know, the one that just scared the living shit out of us."

The eyebrow remained raised. Was she supposed to know the name? "Oh," was all she said instead. The silence between the three continued.

"Who even are you?" The second, nameless one finally asked. "What are you doing out here?"

Mary shifted on her feet, uncomfortable with the spotlight being placed on her. "I told you already," she replied. "I decided to explore and got lost. Then I stumbled upon you two and your bodies and this freak and – ugh." She cut herself off, nose scrunching up in disgust. "You know what, I don't even want to know. Goodbye."

She made to turn around before Buzzcut's next words stopped her. "You don't even know where you're going," he exclaimed, voice baffled.

Mary twitched. "Well, I'll find my way back."

She got the feeling that the two behind her were exchanging some sort of look. "Look, uh," Nameless One started. "You're lost and like that guy said, this is private property. I don't know about you, but he certainly didn't look like the type to help you find your way back."

Slowly, Mary turned back around. He had a point. She deliberated inside her head for a moment, before grouching out, "Fine. Just direct me to where the road is. I parked close to the direction of the high school."

The two stared at her. "You go to our school?" Buzzcut asked, squinting, as if to try and recognize her.

Mary rolled her eyes. "No, I was just there to plan a murder. Yes, of course I go there, Jesus," she added on when two seemed to take her words seriously. "Right then. Point the way, please."

Wordlessly, they did. She nodded at them as she passed. "Thank you."

She could feel their eyes on her back as she walked, and tried not to visibly sigh.

She still had a shit ton of homework to do.

Dammit.

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The next day at school, it seemed that all people could talk about was some party at someone's house – a Lindsey, or something similar. Mary scrunched up her nose at the idea; a party might have been fun, but she had no interest in going out and making friends when she was going to be gone in less than a year, hopefully off to some college back in her home state.

She had glimpsed the two teenagers from yesterday's run in a few times during the day in the hallways and the cafeteria, and they had even glanced back a few times, but she avoided approaching them. She honestly did not want to get involved in whatever it was that they were in on, especially if it involved bodies in the woods. That part continued to stick out to her.

At home, she booted up her laptop and out of curiosity, googled "Derek Hale". Several Facebook results came up, but she doubted he was the type to be involved in social media. After a moment of thinking, she googled "Hale, Beacon Hills". An article about a fire popped up with "Beacon Hills" in the title and so she clicked it, curious.

Several minutes later, she leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at her screen. So this guy and his sister were the sole survivors of a fire that killed their entire family, she thought to herself, chewing on her bottom lip. How tragic. And now he's back, conveniently on the property of his destroyed house.

…That's creepy.

Mary closed down her laptop and banished all thoughts of what happened the previous day out of her mind. It wasn't any of her business.

She slept soundly through the night.

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Mary really, really hated being a hypocrite.

"…You're going into the house of a man who possibly murdered his entire family, who also just so happens to be a werewolf," she drawled out to Scott beside her, leaning up against the car as they both stared up at the sagging Hale house before them. It must have been a magnificent house ten years ago, but now it just screamed "Haunted House" and "stay away". Mary had difficulties wrapping her head around the fact that Derek Hale somehow – for some strange reason – decided to live there. That's some emotional problems, she thought, but decided to keep her thoughts to herself.

"Also, why the hell am I even here? Where's Scott Two?"

Scott's eyes cut to her, glaring. "His name is Stiles," he reminded her. "He was busy. And you're here because you're the only other person who knows about me, and seeing as how you're human, there's less of a chance of Derek killing me. I mean us." He paused. "Probably."

Mary eyeballed him, her arms crossed over her chest. "You literally kidnapped me and threw me into my own car just because you're hoping this guy doesn't kill us both with me here. You even took my phone. You have got to be kidding me." A scowl settled on her lips. "And my finding out about you wasn't even on purpose. It was an accident. I really could care less about what the hell you do when the moon comes out."

A low growl resonated from the boy's chest, sounding vaguely animal like. "You saw what happened at school today. I could have done that – I could do that."

Mary shifted her shoulders, uncomfortable at the reminder of the gory scene they had encountered earlier that day. "Well, if you don't leave me the hell out of this, you will see what I can do to you once a month," she muttered out. "I promise you, it will be just as bloody."

The growl quieted down and Scott's face took on a slightly pained appearance. "I don't want to think about anything like that," he whined out.

Mary snorted. "Well, I don't want to be here with you right now, possibly about to get mutilated, but here I am. We don't always get what we want, Scooby Doo. Now shoo off and do whatever it is you came here to do, because I want to get my ass back home before my parents start freaking. Or I call the police on your ass for kidnapping."

Scott sent her a side look. "Stile's dad is the Sheriff," he pointed out, lips quirking slightly.

Mary stared blankly up at him, being a head shorter. "Then I'll go above his head and report his refusal to investigate his son's activities to his superiors. We'll see how long he remains the Sheriff then. Now get your ass moving."

"You're not coming in with me?"

She couldn't help the incredulous laugh that escaped her lips. "Like hell I am. I'll remain out here, thanks very much."

One glare later Mary was finally left alone, and as soon as Scott disappeared inside, she jumped back into the car and dug around for her cellphone, hoping the boy kept it inside the car and not on him. She found it in the glovebox and checked for a signal, releasing a sigh of relief when several bars stared back at her. Unfortunately he still had her keys – but it's not like she was going to just leave him here by himself.

Well, possibly. She wasn't quite that cold.

Several loud noises coming from inside the house caught her attention and she tensed, getting back out of the car to stare at the pitiful sight of a house before her. She really hoped Scott wasn't being actually killed in there… Scott Two – Stiles – would make her life living hell if he was, she just knew.

Mary took a deep breath in, made sure her own weapon in case of self defense was on her (what? She was living in a town with at least two werewolves, who would be stupid enough to go around without at least something after knowing that?) and made her way into the house. The porch creaked under her feet and not in a pleasant, welcoming way; more like if she took one wrong step, the whole thing would collapse under her.

Mary cringed, and pushed the destroyed, charred door out of the way.

Scott was sprawled out on what was once the wooden floor, thankfully looking human and relatively unharmed. Derek Hale stood some distance away from him, face scowling as he took the younger boy in. His head swivelled to her as she walked in.

"Oh goodie, nobody's dead," Mary remarked, sweeping her eyes over the entry way. A half destroyed staircase stood in the center of the room – once again, the girl cringed. This guy really has some problems. Time to get out of here.

Scott groaned from his position on the floor, slowly getting up. "I thought you weren't coming in," he muttered, wincing at the sound of his shoulder popping back in. Mary did her best to ignore it.

"Your boyfriend would kill me if I left you for dead," she replied absent mindedly, still observing the house. It was giving her the serious creeps. Her gaze returned back to the silent Derek Hale. "Is his business here done? I'm afraid his bedtime is approaching soon."

The werewolf – she tried not to linger too long on that thought – merely raised an eyebrow at her, having noticed her lasting stares at his place of living. "What, you want a personal tour?" He drawled out sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest. Mary let her gaze trace his nicely formed biceps for a moment before a grimace took over her lips. He really did have nice biceps, but plenty of serial killers looked attractive to their victims.

"What, and risk falling through the floor? Thanks, but no thanks. Maybe I'll call you once it's Halloween."

Derek's lips twitched into a small smirk. "Using sarcasm as a defense for your fear? I can hear your heart betraying you, you know."

Mary paused from where she was heading over to help the younger teenager up, and sent a baffled look at the man. "…Really? Really? Of course I'm fucking terrified. I'm literally in the lair of a werewolf who may or may not have gone out and left a dead body in his woods. How long did that deduction take you, Sherlock? And I'll keep my sarcasm, thank you very much." She turned back to Scott, ignoring the angry flare of the Hale's nose. "Alright Clifford, time to get you home."

Scott snorted, but let himself be hefted up by the girl. "Maybe bringing you here was a bad idea," he muttered as the two stumbled out of the house under the watchful gaze of its owner. "If anything, you increase the chance of him killing us."

Mary managed to shrug under the weight of one of his arms around her. "I figure he can kill us any time he wants. Might as well go out sassy."

Scott groaned as she gracelessly dropped him into the passenger's seat. "He can still hear you, you know."

Mary rolled her eyes, walking back around the car to the driver's side. "Good. Goodbye, Derek!"

The sound of the front door attempting to be slammed shut was her answer.

"Don't bring the whole house down there!"

Scott banged his head against the glass of his window.

"You're so stupid for a human," he mumbled.

Mary delivered a swift smack to the back of his head, ignoring the ow that came from him. "You were the same just a few days ago. Who even goes out looking for dead bodies in the middle of the night, anyway?"

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What the fuck, Mary thought, staring out at the parking lot from the side of her car, is Derek Hale doing bleeding all over the school parking lot?

She watched as Stiles and Scott managed to get him into Stiles' Jeep, her eyes meeting the light ones of the man in question briefly before he disappeared from her view. She continued watching as the Jeep sped out of the lot and regular traffic returned, the voices of gossiping students intermingling with the sound of engines.

Mary unlocked her car, got into her seat, shut the door and began thinking.

Let's go through this logically, she coached herself, eyebrows furrowing as she turned the key in her ignition. Derek is a werewolf. Derek is also possibly a murderer. Derek is creepy. Werewolves are dangerous. There's bound to be somebody out there who wants to put them down. Ergo, chances are, Derek probably ran into one of these people.

She chewed on her bottom lip as she drove towards her house.

From what Scott has managed to ramble on to me, werewolves have healing powers. So Derek is going to be okay, even though he didn't look like it. He also has Scott and Stiles, the Fool and the Brains. So theoretically, he should be okay. She cast back in her mind for any reason to worry about the possible demise of the black haired werewolf. All that came to mind were his snarkiness and general negativity. Not to mention the creepy, destroyed house and the mutilated body of his sister buried in the front yard.

A chill ran down Mary's spine.

Right. Not my fucking business.

She drove on home.

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Meet me at the school, the text from Scott read as Mary stared at it, contemplating the message. She glanced at the essay she was currently working on, then at the text. Then at the essay. Then her eyes went to her calendar, and the date circled in red the next day. Her eyes went back to the essay.

Definitely not getting involved in this horror movie, she decided, glancing out at the moon shining outside her window, and threw the phone back down onto her bed. After a moment, she glanced back at the window.

If there's anything Twilight taught me, it's to lock your fucking windows lest you be creeped upon.

The window safely shut, she drew the heavy, light-blocking curtains over it and returned to her essay. Grabbing the noise blocking headset next to her, she plugged it into her iPod and turned up the music as loud as she could stand.

If there were any disturbances of supernatural creatures wanting to get through her window that night, she did not notice them.

And that's how she liked it.

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"You have got to be kidding me," escaped Mary's mouth as she stared at the large, black creature standing a few feet away from her. Two red eyes gleamed back at her, almost as if in amusement. Mary inched back towards where her car lay overturned, her body tensing. "I try so hard to avoid all this crap, and you still come for me?"

A low chuckle came from the creature before her, causing the hair on the back of Mary's neck to rise. Slowly, she slipped her weapon from its holster on her forearm into her hand, gripping it firmly. "I just had to see who it was that captured my nephew's attention so." It chuckled again, taking a step towards her when her only reply was a look of confusion. "Derek Hale, my dear. Surely you must have had at least some idea of whom I speak of."

Whatever she was expecting, it wasn't this. "Derek Hale," Mary repeated to the creature – wasn't all of his family dead, anyways? – in amazement. "You mean the creepy, mentally unstable werewolf who needs anger counselling? You have got to be kidding me."

The creature full out laughed this time, sending a shiver down the girl's back. It continued leisurely towards her, pausing only when it noticed the weapon she had raised in her hand. A moment of silence followed as he examined it, before—

"A stick? I'm afraid that will hardly help you."

It pounced with a roar and the stick came down in Mary's hand, a stream of fire erupting from the tip at her whispered command. Mary watched as the fire engulfed the creature – werewolf? – midair in his pounce, its horrible screams making her wince and back further away. The sound of the werewolf dying and the fire eating away at its body continued on for several more minutes until the flames slowly began to disappear into the nothingness from which they came, a pile of ash dropping down to the ground in their wake.

Mary stared at it, fingering the piece of wood held comfortably between her fingers. "Stick?" She muttered, shaking her head. "My wand and I take offense at that. I hope you enjoyed your Incendio. Bitch."

She had only managed to take two steps towards the pile, intending to dispose of it further when an unwelcome voice broke the silence of the night.

"Holy shit."

Tensing, Mary turned around towards the sight of her wrecked car and the black Camaro that now idled behind it, the doors thrown open as three figures stared at her in shock. She winced at Stiles' voice as he, Scott and Derek stood gaping at her and the pile of ash lying innocently behind her.

"What great timing," she mumbled to herself, gripping her wand tighter.

"Holy— holy shit," Stiles continued, rooted to his spot as he stared at her with wide eyes. "That—that is some Harry Potter shit right there, what the fuck, seriously, are you a fucking witch—"

"You just killed my uncle," Derek stared at the ash behind her, his voice shocked. "You just – set him on fire, and killed him."

Mary sighed, and raised her wand, using their shock to her advantage to quickly send off three Petrificus Totalus in their direction, watching dispassionately as their bodies hit the ground below them. Their frozen faces continued to gape up at her she came closer, twirling the wand in her hand.

She sighed again.

All she wanted to do was graduate high school peacefully and go to the school's winter formal with the nice looking, lanky junior with the sad blue eyes who had asked her.

"Obliviate."

Fucking werewolves.

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