CHAPTER TWO
BARDO
"Right at her head?" Scott questioned as Isaac told him about Allison almost shooting Lydia in the face in the woods with an arrow.
"Almost right through it," Isaac confirmed. "And she keeps saying the same thing, that she keeps seeing her aunt. Whatever's happening to you guys is getting worse. If I hadn't been there, then Lydia would be dead."
Scott paused, "What were you doing there?"
"In art this morning I noticed Allison shaking, pretty badly," Isaac said. "And she and Lydia made off with the bow and arrows, I followed."
"Right."
"Right," Jessie's voice was heard from the cushioned chair in the corner. "He's probably getting over me by getting on Allison—or Lydia."
Scott looked over at her in disgust, "Shut up."
"Come on, Scott, I'm just kidding," she flipped her hair back over her shoulder. "You know I still love Isaac on some level. And that he still loves me. And he'd never go for Allison. You're his best friend now, hell he's living in your house. He wouldn't do that to you. But be honest with yourself... would it really bother you all that much?"
"What are you talking about?" Scott asked her.
"Who are you talking to?" Isaac asked but he went un-heard.
"The great Allison and Scott love story was the center of this whole... saga," Jessie started to explain. "You loved her so much, she was your anchor, your encouragement. Everything you did, everyone you saved... it was all for her. And then you lost her. And fighting to get her back became your new reason to do the right thing and eventually become an Alpha without having to kill anyone for it." She paused, standing up to sit on the bed next to him, "And you need that reason. You need that definition of yourself that you found in her just like Isaac needed the definition I gave him. And you're both so afraid to let us go because you're afraid you'll lose your reason for being. You're afraid to admit that maybe you don't love us the same anymore. That maybe you don't need Allison, you don't ache for her, the way you used to."
"That's..." he started to say but he couldn't find any words to say back to her.
"Scott," Isaac's voice finally broke through as Jessie's figment disappeared. Scott nearly jumped and looked at his friend. Isaac was giving him an expectant look, "What the hell was that?"
Stiles walked into the Sheriff's station with a glass vase full of flowers. He dropped Georgie off at home and prepared to visit his mother's grave with his father. He set the flowers down on his father's desk, "You know, the last time we bought one of these to her grave, it was stolen the same day. Hundred bucks down the drain." He paused when he noticed his dad wasn't seated at his desk, "Hey, Dad?" He peered around it to see his dad sitting on the floor, surrounded by piles of paper, file folders and boxes all labeled 'SHERIFF'S STATION DON'T REMOVE' full of more files. "Hi, what are you doing down there?"
"Working," was the gruff reply he got. "And hey, if somebody wants the flowers that badly, they can have them. It's the gesture."
"Hey, dad, what is all this?" Stiles asked, crouching down.
"I've been looking over some old cases from a more... illuminated perspective, if you know what I mean," his father explained.
Stiles picked up a file and idly read the top description, "Strange sighting of bipedal lizard man sprinting across freeway."
The Sheriff pointed to a certain pile of files, "Kanima pile."
Stiles dropped it on the pile, "Dad, you're not going back through all your old cases seeing if any of them had something to do with the supernatural, are you?"
He paused reluctant to admit it, "I admit the recent opening of my eyes to the greater mysteries of the universe has got me reassessing. There's at least 100 cases here where I look at the details and I can ask myself, 'If I knew then what I know now.'"
"Right, but are you sure you wanna go down that path?" Stiles asked, worried that his father was going to drive himself insane questioning everything in his line of work now because of the supernatural things in the world.
The sheriff looked at him seriously, "Do I have a choice?" He paused, scratching his chin as he picked up one file, "There's one case in particular that I can't get out of my head. Eight years ago, I was elected Sheriff of County, my first official duty was to tell a man that not only had his wife and two kids died in a car accident, but, as best we could tell, the body of his nine year old daughter had been dragged from the wreck by coyotes."
"You mean dragged and eaten?" Stiles confirmed.
The Sheriff paused, not being able to really answer definitively, "We didn't find the car until three days after the crash. They had driven off the road into a pretty deep ravine. Two bodies that were still in the car were covered in bites and slashes."
Stiles sighed, "So, you're thinking bites and claw marks, probably a werewolf attack?"
"Maybe," the Sheriff admitted.
"But coyotes, they scavenge, right?" Stiles thought out loud. "So, couldn't they have just left he bites and the slashes?"
The Sheriff nodded, "Absolutely. But guess what night the accident occurred on?" He handed his son the file and pointed it out.
"The night of a full moon," Stiles read, thinking 'of course' in his head.
"Yeah," the Sheriff stated.
Stiles looked around at all the files and boxes being pulled, "Hey, Dad, where are all these going?" He noticed one box was labeled with a new looking label that read, 'Agent McCall.'
"Yeah," his dad muttered hesitantly. "We, uh, we probably need to talk about that."
The bell rang as Stiles skipped into Coach's class. He went to his normal seat in the front but a girl was already sitting there. "Hi, sorry, I usually sit there." She stared at him blankly and started to sign. He grew embarrassed, "Okay, no problem. That's all yours." He cleared his throat and walked over to an empty seat.
He began to unpack his notebook when he noticed that everyone in class was staring blankly at the front of the classroom, "That's weird." He looked to the front of the classroom and saw Coach Finstock staring blankly out from the front of the room, "Hey, Coach. Thought I was in the wrong class for a second."
Coach didn't say anything back, instead starting to sign.
"Um, okay," Stiles replied, utterly confused. "I don't actually know sign language... actually, I didn't even know that you—knew sign language. Or that that was even an elective here." Coach continued to sign the same sequence over and over again.
Stiles awkwardly stood up with his stuff, "Well, this has been good, I'm probably gonna, uh, head out..." He made his way for the door, slowly facing the class as they all began to sign the exact same thing over and over and over again. He began to hyperventilate as a sonic whistle rang in his ears, almost deafening him.
Coach's whistle filled his ears as he jolted in his desk. Coach glared at him, "Stilinski!"
"Huh?" Stiles answered intelligibly.
"I asked you a question," Coach snarled.
"Uh, sorry Coach," Stiles mumbled. "What was it?"
Coach regarded him sarcastically, "It was 'Stilinski, are you paying attention back there?'"
Stiles flushed, "Oh. Well, I am now."
Coach rolled his eyes, "Stilinski, stop reminding me why I drink... every night. Does anybody else want to try question on the board?"
Stiles looked over to his left to see Georgie and Scott looking at him with worried expressions. He tried to ease their concerns, "I'm okay. I just fell asleep for a second."
Georgie and Scott grew even more worried as they exchanged looks. Scott swallowed, "Dude. You weren't asleep."
Scott sat outside with the pack, Stiles and Georgie next to him and Isaac, Allison and Lydia sitting across from them. "So, we've all been seeing things?"
"Allison keeps seeing her Aunt," Lydia pursed her lips. "Almost took my head off thinking I was Kate."
"I said I was sorry," Allison repeated.
"I'm just straight up seeing things," Stiles shrugged.
"I'm more worried about what Scott has been seeing," Isaac stated, giving Scott a look that said 'come clean.'
Everyone turned to Scott. "What have you been seeing?" Stiles asked.
Scott opened and closed his mouth a couple times, searching for something to say, "I've uh... been seeing... Jessie."
"Jessie?" Allison gaped. "As in she's back?"
"As in a hallucination," Lydia quipped. "You've been seeing her in... memories?"
"No, no, just her," Scott explained. "She appears out of nowhere and... talks to me."
"Does she tell you to do things or something?" Stiles asked.
"He's not a schizophrenic, Stiles," Georgie admonished. She paused and leaned forward to look at Scott, "She doesn't, does she?"
"No," he assured them. "She just talks to me. But it's always a different version of her. At first it was her the day she died..." he paused, looking at Isaac whose eyes had drifted down to the table, "then it was her the day we met, the day she came into Deaton's looking for a job. Today, I saw her dressed like the day we all had dinner at her house when her family first moved here. But she always says I need to fix my messed up mind in order to stop seeing her."
"This is so weird," Georgie commented.
"Okay," Scott spoke, getting straight to business. "So, what happens to a person who has a near-death experience and comes out of it seeing things like mirages of their best friend?"
"And is unable to tell what's real or not?" Stiles added.
"And is being haunted by demonic visions of dead relatives?" Allison tacked on.
"They're all locked up because they're insane," Isaac contributed.
Stiles regarded him sarcastically, "Ha. Can you at least try to be helpful, please?"
"For half my childhood, I was locked in a freezer," Isaac told him. "So, being helpful is kind of a new thing for me."
Stiles narrowed his eyes at him, "Hey, dude, are you still milking that?"
"Yeah, I am still milking that," Isaac replied.
They were interrupted by the shy new girl approaching them, "Hi." The group stopped talking and all looked at her. "Hi, sorry. I couldn't help overhearing what you guys were talking about. And I think I actually might know what you're talking about. There's a Tibetan word for it. It's called 'Bardo.' It literally means 'in-between state.' The state between life and death."
"And what do they call you?" Lydia asked her, somewhat guarded.
"This is Kira," Georgie introduced. "She's new here." The girl scooted over and let Kira sit next to her.
"So, are you talking Bardo in Tibetan Buddhism or Indian?" Lydia asked, flaunting her smarts.
Kira shrugged, "Either, I guess. But all the stuff you guys were just saying? All that happens in Bardo. There are different progressive states where you can have hallucinations. Some you see, some you just hear. And you can be visited by peaceful and wrathful deities."
"Wrathful deities?" Isaac repeated. "And what are those?"
"Like demons," Kira smiled.
"Demons," Stiles stated. "Why not?"
"Hold on," Allison paused, pursing her lips in thought, "if there are different progressive states, then what's the last one?"
"Death," Kira answered, "you die."
The group all exchanged worried glances.
"It sounds like your subconscious is trying to communicate with you," Deaton told Stiles and Scott as he led them into the clinic.
"Well, how do I tell my subconscious to use a language that I actually know?" Stiles replied sarcastically.
"Do you remember what the sign language looked like?" Deaton asked thoughtfully. "The placement and movement of the hands?"
"You know sign language?" Scott asked in mild-awe.
Deaton shrugged, "I know a little. Let me give it a shot."
"Okay, the first one was like this," Stiles demonstrated the first move, "then," and the one it was connected to.
"That's 'when,'" Deaton read.
"Then there was this," he showed, "twice."
"That's door," Deaton continued.
"And this in between it," Stiles brushed his thumb from under his chin.
"That's it?" Deaton asked, puzzled.
"Yeah," Stiles shrugged.
"'When is a door not a door?'" Deaton translated.
"'When is a door not a door?'" Stiles repeated incredulously.
Scott answered, "When it's ajar."
"You're kidding me," Stiles expressed. "A riddle? My subconscious wants to tell me a riddle?"
"Not necessarily," Deaton hedged. "When the three of you went under the water, when you crossed from unconsciousness to a kind of super-consciousness—you essentially opened a door in your minds."
"Bingo," Jessie sang, lifting herself up to sit on the table behind Deaton. Scott finally looked at her, since ignoring her obviously wasn't going to make her go away. She was all dressed up in a red dress, black leather jacket and black studded healed boots. He noticed it was exactly what she wore the night they all crashed Lydia's big party. His first date with Allison.
"So, what does that mean?" he asked Deaton. "The door's still open?"
"Ajar," Deaton repeated.
"A door into our minds?" Stiles tried to understand.
"I did tell you it was risky," Deaton excused.
"What do we do about it?" Scott asked desperately.
"Well, that's difficult to answer," Deaton claimed.
Stiles paused, giving him a skeptical look, "Oh, no, wait a second, I know that look. That's the 'we know exactly what's wrong with you, but we have no idea how to fix it' look."
Deaton nodded, "One thing I do know is that having an opening like that into your mind, it's not good. You each need to close that door. And you need to do it as soon as possible."
"Yep," Jessie popped the 'P' from her perch on the table. "You need to close that door in your head, Scott. Only then will you stop seeing me. But do you really want it to stop?"
Stiles and Scott made their way out the front door of the clinic when they heard a car approaching, turning to see the Sheriff's cruiser driving up and parking. "Dad, what are you doing here?" Stiles asked his father.
"I'm here because I could use some help," the man answered, pointing at Scott. "Actually—your help."
"Why me?" Scott questioned.
"Because eight years ago, almost an entire family died in a car accident," the Sheriff regurgitated. "One of the bodies, a young girl named Malia, was never found. There's enough evidence to have me thinking that a werewolf could have caused the accident, and then dragged her body away. If you could somehow get a lock on her scent if you could somehow help me find her body, it might provide the missing clue."
Stiles frowned, "But what if it was a werewolf?"
The Sheriff tilted his head, "Well, there's somebody out there who murdered an entire family. Someone who still needs to be caught."
"Why are we going to a hunter's house again?" Isaac asked from the backseat of Allison's car.
"We haven't seen Emily in almost a week," Allison answered patiently from the driver's seat.
"And I doubt you couldn't handle an old man paralyzed from the waist down," Lydia quipped from the front passengers seat.
"He has automatic assault rifles," Isaac stressed.
"We're here," Allison cut them off, pulling over in front of the modest house nearby Jessie's old one.
The three of them got out of the car but paused when they noticed a small moving van in the driveway.
"What's going on?" Isaac asked the girls, but they both shrugged, not knowing any more than he did.
Lydia marched up to the front door and knocked loudly. The door opened to reveal two moving men carrying large boxes out of the house towards the van. Lydia stepped aside to let them out of the house and walked in, her heals clicking and clacking on the hardwood floors. The other two followed her into the house and stopped at the living room where they saw Emily and her father taping up some boxes and labeling them.
"What the Hell is this?" Lydia asked with pursed lips and wide eyes.
Emily spun around to see them all standing there and stood up awkwardly, "We were supposed to be gone before you noticed."
"Gone where?" Allison asked slowly.
"Back home, love," Matthias answered for his daughter.
"Don't call her that," Isaac growled at the hunter.
"Calm down, Isaac," Emily admonished him. "We're leaving for home. And retiring from hunting. For good."
"Why?" Lydia pressed. "Why are you just leaving?"
Emily began to tear up, but Matthias scowled at the teenagers, "That, my dears, is none of your business. I'd like it if you would leave so we could pack in peace." With that said, he wheeled himself down the hallway towards the bedrooms of the house.
"Emily, what's going on?" Allison asked, concerned as Emily started to cry.
Emily sniffed, wrapping her arms around her elbows, "Alex is dead."
The three teens gaped at the girl. Allison stepped forward and wrapped her arms around the girl, hugging her closely, "What happened?"
"He was with Jessie, facing off something dangerous," Emily started to explain. At the mention of Jessie, Isaac visibly flinched. Lydia placed her hand on his arm in comfort as Emily continued, "It was attacking her and Alex protected her. But it killed him."
"I'm so sorry," Allison started rubbing her back. "I'm sorry."
"We just need to leave," Emily whispered. "We can't be here. We need to bury Alex next to my mother. And when we're there, we're staying there."
Scott and Stiles tried to get a scent from Malia's room while the Sheriff spoke to Mr. Tate to distract him. They had a little run in with a dog but there was no discernible scent for Scott to use. The boys met the Sheriff by their cars, "I'm sorry. I tried as hard as I could. If it wasn't so long ago, I might have been able to do it."
"It's okay," the Sheriff excused him. "It was a long shot... In fact, it was a pretty terrible idea. I think I just ripped a wound open in that poor man. I never should have brought you guys here. I don't know what I was thinking. Thanks for trying, all right?"
Scott nodded, "Yeah."
He got into his cruiser, "See you at home," and then drove off.
"Aren't there a lot of cases that go unsolved?" Scott asked Stiles when the Sheriff was out of ear shot.
Stiles stared after his father, "Yeah, I just think this is one he felt like he could've figured out right now."
Scott didn't understand, "Why is it so important right now?"
Stiles seemed reluctant to elaborate, "He wants to be able to solve one more while he's still Sheriff."
"What do you mean, 'still Sheriff'?"
Melissa giggled from the passengers seat of her new boyfriend's car. He parked in front of her house and she smiled at him, "Thanks for getting me from work."
"Don't worry about it," Gavin smiled. "I'll come over tomorrow and drive you back to the hospital to pick your car up. I have a friend who's a mechanic. He can take a look at it and probably help you out for a good price."
"That sounds wonderful," Melissa smiled. "Do you want to come in for some late dinner? I'm sure Scott hasn't fed himself either."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Gavin asked a little hesitantly. "I don't want to make Scott uncomfortable."
Melissa rolled her eyes. Scott had deemed Gavin worthy after thoroughly interrogating him and very literally 'sniffing him out.' "You don't have to worry about that."
Gavin smirked, "Well, I am hungry."
She smiled and led him into the house from the side door. They heard a man say, "I'm trying to help."
"That doesn't make any sense, dad," they heard Scott shout. "Who are you helping? Just get out."
Melissa and Gavin walked in to see Scott facing off with his father angrily.
Rafael remained blank faced, not noticing their presence, "Scott."
"What?" Scott shouted. "I can't believe that you'd do this to my best friend."
"I'm not doing anything to your friend," his father protested. "I'm doing my job."
"Your job sucks," Scott spat.
"Some days I can't argue that," Rafael conceded.
"Can somebody tell me what the hell is going on?" Melissa interrupted them.
"He's trying to get Stiles' dad fired," Scott accused.
"No," Rafael denied. "That is not true."
"What are you doing?" Melissa asked her ex.
He faced her, "Conducting a case for impeachment."
She gave him a sarcastic look, "That sounds a lot like getting him fired."
"The lack of resolution and ability to close cases is what's going to get him fired," Rafael elaborated. "My job is just to collect the information. And it's the job my superiors have given me."
"Your job sucks," Melissa echoed Scott's words from earlier.
Scott started to pant and growl and Melissa noticed his claws slipping out of his fingertips. She stood in front of him, grabbing his shoulders, "Scott. Sweetheart. Calm down. Come with me right now." She led him off down a hallway under the stairs.
"Who the Hell are you?" Rafael asked Gavin once Melissa and Scott left.
Gavin regarded him somewhat awkwardly but didn't show it, "I'm the new boyfriend. You're the ex. Gavin McGarretty, nice to meet you," he held out his hand.
Rafael ignored it.
"Let it go," Melissa coached her son down the hallway as he leaned heavily against the wall to the stairs. "Just breathe and let it go."
"I'm trying," he panted as his teeth elongated in his mouth.
"You told me you and Stiles learned a way to control this," Melissa tried to help. "You find an anchor, right? Find your anchor."
"My anchor was Allison," he groaned in exasperation. "I don't have Allison anymore."
"Then find a new anchor," Jessie's voice sounded from his other side. She was close to him, still dressed in her red party dress, leaning into his side. He could actually feel her for the first time. "Find a new anchor and lock in on it, Scott."
"Then be your own anchor," Melissa spoke over her. "You can do this."
Scott panted, shutting his eyes as he felt himself calm down and return to being human. He sighed out through his mouth. He felt Jessie take his hand, "Good job."
"Sweetheart, let me tell you something no teenager ever believes, but I swear to you is the absolute truth," Melissa promised. "You fall in love more than once. It'll happen again. And it'll be just as amazing and as extraordinary as the first time. And maybe just as painful. But it will happen again, I promise. And until then—be your own anchor."
"She's right," Jessie agreed, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I love your mom."
Scott opened his closed fist to reveal a small watch with a red leather band, "My dad got my mom this watch when she first got hired at the hospital. She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked."
Jessie cracked a smile at that, "I love your mom."
Scott slowly smiled from the side, "Me too."
Jessie laid her hand on his shoulder in comfort, "This'll work. We'll find her."
Scott sighed, leaning his head back on the wall, shutting his eyes.
"You know, if my dad's right, that means there's another werewolf in town that we haven't met yet," Stiles commented to Scott as the two went searching in the woods for the wreckage of the Tate family accident.
"I know," Scott answered.
"If it turns out to be something like triplets that form into, like, a three-headed hound of hell—I'm seriously not up for that," Stiles let him know.
"Yeah, me either," Scott agreed. "Especially if I can't even control my own transformation anymore."
A high pitched howl rang through the cold air, causing Stiles to jump and bump into Scott, tossing his phone out of his hand. It fell down the hill and plopped into a little puddle of water.
Scott gave Stiles a look. His best friend held his hands up defensively, "Sorry, buddy. I hate coyotes so much. They always sound like they're mauling some tiny, helpless little animal."
The two made their way down the hill and Scott picked up his phone, wiping it on his sleeve and looking at the screen to see the GPS signal was still working, "It still works."
"Let me see the flashlight," Stiles grabbed for the tool when he thought he saw something, flashing the light onto a turned over car covered in dirt. "I think we found it."
The boys began to walk down to the wreckage site. "Uh, why wouldn't they move it?" Scott asked confused. "Isn't it evidence?"
"Probably too much of a pain in the ass to tow out," Stiles guessed. "Look at this," he flashed the light on long claw marks dragging down the side of the car. "See those? Animal claws would be closer together, right? A lot closer."
Scott reached forward and ran his fingers along the scratch arks, his fingers stretching out to just the right distance. It was a match. "Then it was a werewolf."
"So, my dad was right," Stiles breathed.
"What is that?" Scott noticed something on the ground. Stiles reached down to pick it up and they both saw it was a worn down looking baby doll with a missing eye. Suddenly a squeaky mechanical voice erupted from the baby doll, "I'm hungry," causing both Scott and Stiles to shriek in fright and practically fall over themselves in fear.
Stiles panted harshly, "I think I just had a minor heart attack."
Scott panted too, holding one of his hands on his chest. He paused when he heard growling and looked around until he saw some luminous eyes in the darkness of the forest, "Hey, Stiles. Please tell me you see that."
Stiles stood up next to him and looked, "I see it."
Scott suddenly took off after the coyote, causing it to sprint off, way too fast for a normal coyote. "Wait, hey, Scott!" Stiles called after him, "Scott, wait!"
Scott panted heavily as he sprinted off after the coyote, his eyes glowing vibrant red. A moment later he felt his werewolf boost leave him along with his control. He groaned, slowly down as he and the coyote came to a cliff's edge. He wolfed out just in time to make the huge leap to the cliff on the other side. He snarled at the coyote as it turned around to snarl back at him. He felt his eyes start to glow and the coyote stuttered in it's growing, it's eyes glowing bight blue.
Scott stopped, gaping, "Malia?"
The coyote didn't answer, running off on the stunned alpha.
So, there's chapter two for you guys. I hope you like it. Let me know what you guys think about the changes. I'm sorry I killed Alex off, but I had to weed out some weak characters.
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RegalGirl94
