After the Kanima incident in the school library, I figured I had to explaining to do to Matt. Fortunately, he kept weirdly quiet about the entire situation. Maybe Jackson hit him hard enough to not only give him a concussion, but also forget anything ever happened. Either way I was thankful I didn't have to break to him that werewolves as well as psychotic lizards with a past exist. Honestly, he didn't even seem fazed on our way back from the hospital after being there for six hours. He was even anxious to get back to school as soon as possible. Clearly he was still very concussed if he wanted to be back in school so suddenly.
Once he was released from the hospital, we headed home so he could ice his head with a bag of frozen asparagus (courtesy of me). I was now sporting a bruised nose which only make-up could cover up. Still clad in the same bloody clothes, our dad had come home that morning and didn't even bother asking questions. Instead, he settled on an unimpressed groan and grumbled all the way to his room. Thank god he's a man of few words. Except when he's drinking because that's when the drunken rants start.
"Here," Matt said, sliding me a colorful rectangular piece of paper. I frowned down at the kitchen counter and skimmed the writing on the ticket.
"A rave?"
"Mhm," he murmured. "Drug-free. I figured I owed you since I've been acting like, and I quote, the one who's walking around here like someone shoved a bat up your a-"
"I get it," I interrupted with a chuckle. I examined the ticket with a small smile on my face. "This is actually pretty cool of you, Matt. Thanks."
Matt shrugged with an air of confidence. "It's only one ticket, so no plus ones. Sorry," he sheepishly apologized as he walked away and up the stairs.
I scoffed before yelling after him. "Yeah, you don't seem sorry!"
After the library incident, Scott decided it was time to go to Deaton and I couldn't agree more. The translations had helped, but since Deaton knows everything about everything, he could help a lot more. Stiles was busy with god knows what and I was the only other person who had (unwillingly) gotten up close and personal with the Kanima, so I joined Scott. Apparently Derek was supposed to be joining us, but it turns out Miguel isn't the most punctual person.
Scott and I were sitting in the lobby of the vet's office while waiting for him. "So, if you weren't a werewolf, what kinda supernatural creature would you be?" I asked, breaking the silence. Scott look taken back for a split second but went into a deep thought soon after.
"Not a Kanima?" He answered in an unsure tone. I opened my mouth to agree, but was stopped when he got up to unlock and open the door. "What's he doing here?" Scott asked, referring to Isaac who was trailing behind Derek. Isaac sent me a not-so-subtle wink and waved.
"I need him," Derek responded.
Well, ain't that just sweet?
Scott dropped his jaw as the two walked past him. "I don't trust him."
"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," Isaac spoke up, taking in his surroundings. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes at the pattern that was surely forming.
"You know what? And Derek really doesn't care," Derek said with finality.
"Oh, god," I mumbled under my breath, earning looks from all three werewolves. "Don't look at me like that if we're gonna keep talking in second and third person," I quipped, examining my nails.
"Why is she here?" Derek asked, still eyeing me as if he just now noticed I was standing here. Seriously, dude, you're a werewolf. I know you have better deduction skills than that.
"She," Scott mocked. "Is the only other one who has seen the Kanima up close and personal."
Derek tore his eyes away from me and glared at Scott. "That's because Jackson won't attack her and she can't be trusted."
"Yes, she can," Scott growled. I rolled my eyes and ran both my hands through my hair due to frustration.
"I'll remember that the next your ass gets shot by a wolfsbane bullet," I grumbled only for me to hear despite the fact that three others had heightened senses. "Look, I don't care if Miguel, the mid-twenty, broody, leather jacket clad werewolf doesn't trust me, okay? People are dying, and my brother was attacked so clearly this thing has an issue with me. So, can't we all just pretend to get along for another 20 minutes?" I finished with an air of sarcasm hanging at the end of my sentence. I took in Isaac's expression which looked put out for most of my mini monologue.
"Fine," Derek sighed. "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"
"That depends," Deaton answered from around the corner. Jesus man, if you're gonna hide out in the shadows, at least come and break up a spat in between us. Like you know Derek is the most argumentative, paranoid werewolf you've ever met. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" He asked.
"Kill him," Derek answered the same time as Scott answered, "save him."
"Save him," Scott firmly corrected. "Save him," he reiterated to Deaton once again. Derek looked disappointed at Scott's redundant plan and said nothing in response. The five of us headed to the back of the office and huddled around the steel table. Deaton pulled out what resembled a spice rack and placed it on the table. Isaac went in to grab something, but was stopped by a moody Miguel. "Watch what you touch," Derek scolded, grabbing Isaac's wrist.
Isaac bent and placed both his elbows on the table and smirked up at Deaton. "So, what are you? Some kind of witch?"
"No, I'm a veterinarian," Deaton corrected. "Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin."
"We're open to suggestions," Derek informed.
"What about an effective offense?" Isaac asked.
"We already tried," Derek explained. "I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."
"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Deaton continued.
"Well one, it can't swim."
"Does that go for Jackson as well?"
"No," Scott spoke up. "He's the captain of the swim team."
"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people," Deaton began. He turned his back and to grab something before continuing. "A puppet and a puppeteer. One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?" He asked.
"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else," Scott explained.
"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too." Isaac asked.
"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied," I murmured to myself.
"What was that?" Deaton asked.
I shook my head silently, waving off my last comment. "It's just something I've heard before, but if the Kanima kill murderers that would mean Stiles, Isaac's dad, and I were murderers," I defended. "And I don't think that's the case."
"Wouldn't surprise me if he was," Isaac added quietly.
"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right? What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him? What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master?" Deaton questioned.
"Don't you have a fear of water?" Derek asked nodding toward me.
"Now I do," I snapped. God, I swear if he weren't so hot and not a werewolf, I'd rip his head off. Even know though I still struggle with opening a bottle of Aquafina, but it's the effort that counts. "And it's only because I was egged on to jump into eight feet of water."
"And?"
"I don't know about you, Derek, but I haven't murdered anyone recently," I reminded with frustration thick in my voice.
"Guys," Scott interrupted. "She's not the Kanima's master, Stiles or I would have noticed by now, okay?"
Derek and I were still glaring at each other until Isaac brought me out of it by nudging me a bit. Derek had noticed and began glaring at Isaac who, in turn, ignored him. Ugh, this is the last time I come to a secret werewolves meeting if it means getting accused of being in control of a potent, murderous lizard. "So what does this bonded thing mean?"
"It means we can catch them. Both of them."
The day Matt returned to school, I was stuck on driving duty for a while and dad didn't want Matt to take his bike. I parked closest to the school as humanly possible and scanned the area for Stiles and Scott. "How long do you think we'll be suspended after what happened the other day?" Matt asked as we both headed toward the school.
I shrugged my shoulders silently. Come to think of it, the school hadn't come into contact with us after the incident. "I'm not sure. I haven't heard anything from anyone since it happened so maybe we got off scotch-free."
"That's weird," Matt mumbled as he paused his walking as I brushed past him to greet Scott and Stiles who were deep in a conversation.
"There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott asked with a hopeful tone.
"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's a secret," Stiles argued.
"Are you guys talking about that drug-free rave?" I asked, butting into their conversation. Both boys snapped their heads toward and down at me in unison.
"You have tickets?" Stiles asked, dramatically gripping my shoulders with both his hands.
I shook my head and held up my index finger. "Just one for me. Matt gave it as an apology," I said. "Again," I added.
"Do you know where we can get two?"
"It's a secret remember," I reiterated. Stiles let go of my shoulders and threw his head back in a dramatic groan. I laughed at his dispense and looked to Scott. "Why are you guys suddenly so interested in a secret rave?"
Scott opened his mouth to answer me, but immediately looked over and past me distractedly before answering. "I'll explain later."
"Hey. Either of you guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?" Matt asked as he walked up behind me.
"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt," Stiles answered in a bitter tone.
"I—I had a concussion."
"Well, nobody got seriously hurt," Stiles corrected, adjusting his grip on his backpack.
"I was in the E.R. for six hours."
"Hey, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now," he argued, holding his hand barely an inch from the ground. I scoffed and lifted Stiles up by the ear and lead him into the entrance of the school, earning a few looks and laughs. "Let go, let go, let go, let go," he quickly pleaded as we finally made our way to my locker. Once I finally let go, I glared at him as I let my backpack "accidentally" landed on his foot. "Ow!" he yelped.
I silently lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I didn't seriously hurt you, did I?"
Stiles took a warning half step back and tightened the grip on his backpack. Oh, do I miss the days of making Stiles nervous.
I bent down to open my backpack and grabbed a couple of books and waited for Stiles to explain himself. After a few beats of silence, he finally blurted out; "I don't like him."
I slammed my locker door shut, which in turn made him jump. "That's not a real excuse, Stilinksi."
"It could be if you let it!" He argued. Too bad it wasn't a very valid argument. We headed to Scott's locker in forced silence. I felt Stiles look over at me every now again to see of my glared had faltered. Fortunately, all the time spent with Miguel had increased my time for my extended glare factor (EGF). And yes, that's a real thing.
"Hey, are you sure about this?" Stiles asked once we reached Scott who was putting things away in his own locker.
"Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's going to do this time?"
"Be there to make sure it happens."
"Exactly, which is why we need the tickets for the rave, Charlie," Scott finished.
"Like I said," I shrugged. "Matt got it for me and he was pretty clear about no plus ones."
Scott sighed and closed the door to his locker and leaned against it. "It would help if you were a litter nicer to him," he said looking pointedly at Stiles.
Stiles fidgeted under the looks Scott and I were sending him and threw his arms up in defense. "Hey, I'm trying!"
Meet me, Charlotte Louise Daehler, the ambassador (read as am-badass-or) of Scallison. Yep, it's my new title since Allison texted me saying she needed a lookout so she and Scott could talk. Honestly, she could have texted Scott herself, but this way is more fun. Plus, I have an excuse to wear sunglasses indoors which is always cool. It kinda worries me that there's always an empty classroom for these two to recon during classes though. Admittedly, they've been in there for a while now, but it's cool because it gave me time to beat my Angry Birds score and to give Stiles the silent treatment for blatantly being a dick to my brother.
"What do you think you're doing?"
I literally jumped out of my Angry Birds stupor to see who scared the crap outta me. I was met with angry, light eyes that belonged to no other than Victoria Argent.
"Uh…"
Riveting, I know, right?
"Get to class, Mrs. Daehler," she ordered with an air of authority. I stared at her as I pocketed my phone and walked tentatively away from the door of the classroom. I crossed my fingers in hopes she wouldn't notice that I was watching out for Scott and Allison. Mrs. Argent and I had yet to break eye contact the entire time despite the fact that I had left to go to class.
"Go!" She yelled. My eyes widened as I promptly left to my next class. It's official; I have a pathological fear of all the Argents.
There wasn't enough time in the world to prepare me for another night of Kanima hunting, but here I was in Stiles' Jeep on the way to the rave. Once we pulled up at the back of the club, Scott turned round in his seat to brief me on the plan. Apparently Scott and Stiles had made an after school trip to Deaton for a couple things that would help catch the Kanima and the master.
"Charlie," Scott finished. "Whatever you do, stay close to me or Isaac and yell if you need anything, got it?"
"Like a rash," I nodded.
"This is officially the worst plan ever," I said once Scott exited the Jeep and disappeared from view. I'm pretty sure I'm only saying that because I have no idea what the hell mountain ash is or ketamine and what it's supposed to do with a real life killing machine. Stiles and I both began unloading the stuff from the back of his Jeep.
"Hey, at least I have the pleasure of sprinkling magical fairy dust around an entire building and believe enough so it'll work to keep a giant lizard and his master stuck," he snapped sarcastically.
I ignored his tone and squinted my eyes in thought as he began planning with the zipper of his hoodie. "What's wrong?"
"I just told you what's wrong."
"Yeah, but what's bugging you? You were quiet the whole way here and I know it's not just because of the mountain ash," I noted. "You know I'm still not mad at you, right? I just really like messing with you because you make it super easy," I boasted with a grin on my face.
"My dad got fired," Stiles blurted, finally standing still for a moment.
Instantly, my grin fell off my face before I repeated his words. "Fired?"
"Yep," he com firmed, popping the p. "Leave of absence, let go, laid off permanently, whatever you wanna call it," he shrugged sadly.
"Did he say why?" Stiles gestured to himself silently with a pointed look on his face. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be, it's not your fault."
"Technically speaking it's Derek's," I said in a light tone. "Does that make it any better?"
Stiles put his index finger and thumb together so there was a small gap showing. "But I can't kick his dumb werewolf ass so what's the point, you know?"
"Scott could."
"Maybe," he agreed, turning his attention to the ground.
"Hey," I called out. Stiles made eye contact with me again before I continued. "We're gonna figure this whole thing out. We're gonna figure out to not kill Jackson or his master. And then were gonna map out a way to tell your dad this so he can be reinstated."
"How?"
"Seriously, Stiles you're one of the smartest people I know hands down. Except that one time you ate that jar of jalapeños as a dare," I added."We'll figure this out one way or another."
Stiles stared at me with a small smile before laughing softly. "Thanks, Daehler," he said as he stood up a bit straighter.
"No problem," I assured. I pointed behind and begin walking backwards. "Duty calls."
"Hey, be careful in there!"
Without turning back around, I half waved. "Always am!" Once I walked inside the music instantly droned out any other noise unless someone was literally in your face talking. I put my phone on vibrate and set out to look for Jackson. Hopefully the plan would go smoothly tonight and he could be saved. I'm not so sure about whoever's controlling him because we haven't thought that far ahead. One step at a time I guess.
I was brought out of my thoughts when someone roughly brushed past me. I whipped around to tell them to shove it, but held my tongue when I realized who it was.
Harris.
And, oh his date who did definitely not look twenty-one.
I silently lifted an eyebrow waiting for an explanation but got nothing but a gaping, silent Chemistry teacher. He walked away while pulling the blonde behind him shortly after our stare off. I laughed once to myself as my phone began vibrating. I checked the caller ID and saw it was Stiles and put the phone up to my ear. "Go for Charlie."
"Char, hey! What's up?" He greeted in a strained, high pitched voice. Hearing the tone on his voice, I scanned the club for the exit and headed there. I was already headed toward Stiles way when I answered the phone and could hear gunshots in the near, near distance.
"Hey, Stiles," I greeted even though it came out more like a question. "What's wrong?"
"Uh, nothing really. No big deal. Just, uh I have about 50 feet of coverage left and no more mountain ash," he explained in a quick manner. "So, yeah I don't have any idea what to do."
"For starters, stop pacing. That's not helping," I instructed. A flash of confusion came and left on his face until he began searching for me while the phone was still pressed to his ear. Once he spotted me, we hung up our phones and met by the 50 feet gap.
"One thing," he sighed once I was standing in front of him.
"What?"
"I had one thing to do and I couldn't even do that. Something as simple as putting powder around a building and I can't even do that," he vented, running a hand over his head and through his hair.
I was more than positive that this had something to do with the talk we had earlier. His morale was obviously low and hopefully I could fix it. Silently, I kicked a pebble on the ground before sighing myself. I took Stiles phone and dropped it in his jacket pocket before taking both of his hands in mine. "You remember what Deaton said about being the spark, Stiles, right?"
"Yeah, force of will," he replied with a frown on his face.
"Right, so be that spark, Stiles," I reiterated, squeezing his hands for emphasis. Stiles shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. My guess was that he was trying to concentrate, but I imagine that's rather difficult with a brawl between werewolves and guns going on around the corner. I watched as his lips began twitching until he licked them quickly. Unfortunately, there was still a gap so I took in a deep breath and made my next bold move. I moved our hands so they were laying on my waist and stood on the tips of my toes.
"What are you doi-"
I closed the gap between our lips before he could even finish his inevitable question. Stiles' first reaction was absolutely nothing until there a light bulb went off in the boy's head. He finally moved his lips against mine and pulled me closer to cup my face with his left hand. Our mouths moved together for another brief moment until I removed his hand from face and took a step back from him so only our hands were joined once again. I looked over to the line of mountain ash to see that it finally completed itself. "Good job, sparky," I winked.
A huge grin slowly spread on his face once he realized what he accomplished. "Yes!" He shouted, doing an awful victory dance. Once he settled down, he smiled down at me. "Thank you."
I mock saluted before stepping over the line. "Now it's time to go kick some Kanima ass."
Stiles and I headed back around the building and came in through the back way. We eventually found the door we were looking for and I cringed as Stiles came busting through it. "Us! It's just us. Don't freak out," he exclaimed defensively. Erica and Isaac stood down when we all turned to see an eerily calm Jackson sitting in a chair. "He okay?"
"Well," Isaac began as he shifted his fingernails into razor sharp claws in one swift motion. "Let's find out."
"Isaac, I don't think—"
"God," Isaac winced.
Well," I hesitated. "That was bold of you. And could have most definitely gotten you killed and I would have killed you myself if that happened." There was a beat of silence as Isaac, Erica, and Stiles exchanged looks. "How does that work?"
"You wanna test that theory?" I snapped. The said culprit threw his hands up defensively before everyone else focused at the task at hand.
"Jackson?" Stiles asked, squatting eye level to the Jackson/Kanima hybrid. "Is that you?"
"Us. We're all here."
"Are you the one killing people?"
"We are the ones killing murderers."
"So all the people you've killed so far—"
"Deserved it."
"See, we got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."
"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied."
"Shit," I mumbled under my breath. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac look over at me. I frowned as I tried to remember where I heard that saying before. I met Isaac's gaze who looked confused as ever. I waved him of in response and glanced over at Erica who looked just as lost as Isaac. Fortunately, Stiles was unaware of the silent exchange and continued interrogating Jackson. "Well, who did they murder?"
"Me," Jackson grunted. "And Charlie."
I looked around as if there was another Charlie in the room before lazily giving up. "What the hell does that mean?"
"They murdered me," he snapped. "They murdered you."
I took a few silent steps back and opened my mouth to speak. I shut it realizing I want going to get any answers from my inevitable questions. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't remember being murdered as of late."
"They murdered us!" He growled as his eyes transformed into their dangerous slits.
"Okay, all right," Stiles jumped. "More ketamine. The man needs ketamine. Come on," he demanded, his hand out stretched to Isaac.
Isaac looked to me as I shrugged and patted my pockets. "We don't have anymore," he confirmed.
"You used the whole bottle?" He scolded, glaring at Isaac. "Um, okay. Everybody out."
Everyone brushed past me as I silently eyed Jackson who was slowly but surely turning into the Kanima. I was trying to decide the whole I-was-murdered thing. A pair of hands interrupted my thoughts as they roughly guided me out the door. "Go, go, go, go," Isaac rushed.
Once we were all safely in the other side of the door, we learned against in a feeble attempt to keep Jackson in.
"Okay, find something to move in front of the door," Stiles huffed. Not a second later, Jackson, in full blown Kanima, came busting through the wall. "Uh, okay, new plan. Charlie, come with me outside so we can make sure Jackson or his master can't get out, okay?"
I nodded silently and moved to stand behind Stiles. "Erica, Isaac you guys stay here and—"
"Got it," Isaac interrupted, grabbing Erica by the wrist and dragging her behind him.
Once Stiles and I were outside, I silently kicked a rocked and kept my hands deep in my pockets. Stiles was checking his phone to see if he'd gotten anything from Scott. "You heard anything from Scott?"
I shook my head in response and continued my intense games of kick the rock. And I was totally winning.
"You okay?" He asked, pocketing his phone. "I only ask because you've had this look on your face ever since we talked to Jackson and whoever's controlling him."
I stopped kicking and looked over at him. "What are you talking about, Stiles," I sighed.
He walked over and sympathetically down at me. "This," he vaguely answered as he awkwardly gestured to my face. "You look worried, but at the same time very confused and slightly anxious," he explained. He took another step toward me and placed his hand gently on my face. "All I'm saying is that you should relax." He softly rubbed where eyebrows were furrowed until I relaxed my face. "We'll figure it out so don't worry, okay?" he concluded, removing his hand from my face. "And yes, I'm recycling the advice you gave me earlier so deal with it."
I chuckled softly and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Stilinski."
Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but he clearly got distracted when he looked up and past me. I turned around to see Derek standing there on the same side of the mountain ash as us. "What?"
"Break it," Derek demanded.
"What? No way," Stiles yelled.
"Scott's dying!"
"Okay, what?—"
"Stop saying what," I huffed at Stiles. "How do you know Scott's dying?"
"Oh, my God, I just know," Derek barked, growing impatient.
Stiles huffed nervously and broke it the line of ash reluctantly. Derek took off in a rush as the sirens began ringing in the distance. I ran a hand threw my hair and looked to Stiles. "I swear to god if any of us comes face to face in another near death situation again, we're all getting Life Alerts, dammit."
And that's the end of Raving! Since I have to rewatch all the episodes written, can I just say that Crystal Reed is an AMAZING crier and that I'm going to miss Allison very dearly. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it! Review?