Heading back to the loft empty handed was a bigger disappointment than anything at the moment. Not being able to get Derek to come home, to come help the town before someone else was murdered made her feel sick. The Jeep's headlights rounded the corner, parking in Derek's usual spot. She sighed when she saw Stiles waiting for her, raising brow as he stepped up to the drivers side window. "Did you find him?" Stiles asked, leaning his elbows on the window. Riley nodded, still unable to find her voice. "He's not coming back, is he?"
Riley shrugged weakly, looking to him with desperate eyes. "He will eventually." She managed to sigh, toying with the car keys in her hands. "I should go up and tell Cora. See if she needs anything before we go home."
Stiles nodded, opening the door for her as she stepped out. He took her spot behind the wheel, waving her off. "I'll wait down here."
Her legs numbly carried her up the fifteen flights of stairs, her mind running wild with accusations and guilt. How was she going to tell Derek's sister he wouldn't be home tonight? Or tomorrow night? Her chest still panged at the echoed reminder of Derek's whimper. Letting him down while implying she couldn't forgive him. It was hard to stare into the eyes of a broken, burdened man and admit he fucked up. The loft door was open as Cora had left it, hoping Derek would feel invited when he came home. The loft was empty, heading for Cora's bedroom in a single room just out of sight. She knocked softly, opening the door a crack.
She found Cora sitting in bed, a sketch book and pencil in hand as she looked up to Riley. "Is he home?" She asked with a hopeful smile. The corners of her lips turned down in disappointment when Riley shook her head. "Did he say when he'll be back?" She wanted a solid answer, hating the way she felt when separated from her oldest brother. Cora had already spent eight years without him while she was in South America, and she couldn't bear being away from him.
"No." Riley shook her head again, angry with herself for letting the girl before her down.
A quiet moment passed by as Riley picked at the chipped paint on the door. Cora spoke up first, twisting her pencil between numb fingers. "Will things ever be the same between you guys again?" She asked, already aware of what had happened.
Riley's lips pouted, shaking her head as she shrugged. "Nothing's certain." She replied, wishing everything could fall back into place. Wishing things had been as easy as the summer she'd spent with him. "It's my fault, really." Riley confessed. "I told him to snoop. . . and he snooped a little too far." Cora nodded, going back to her sketch book with a saddened expression. "Do you need anything before I go?" Riley asked, turning back into the darkened hallway. Cora shook her head, a gulp lodged in her throat.
Riley nodded, shutting her door before heading back into the darkness. She was half way out of the hallway when she heard the loft door shut. She figured Stiles had come up to see what was taking so long. She stepped into the main loft, pausing when she spotted a figure fall face first into the bed in the corner. His shoulders slowly rose and fell with each self-hated breath he devoured. She didn't expect Derek to return so soon as she headed for the side of his bed.
She sat on the edge, her nails raking over his lower back in a comforting motion. "Will you stay?" Derek asked, his voice muffled by the pillow beneath his head.
Riley hesitated, debating her choice as he looked up to her with a pleading expression. Derek didn't want to be alone tonight. He didn't want to suffer with the weight of the things he had done. She pursed her lips as she shook her head. "I should go." She chose, feeling Derek's muscles tense beneath her hand. His whole frame choked up with the confusion and sorrow of her rejection. "Get some rest." Riley ordered, standing up from his bedside. "Figure out what your next move is with Jennifer."
She turned then, heading for the door without a second glance or a goodbye.
Stiles' fingers drummed nervously against his steering wheel as Riley hopped into the passenger side. He didn't question her numb expression, his own voice moving a million miles and hour. "We have to go-I just got a call from Lydia." His voice was rushed. "She found a dead body. . . again."
"Seriously?" Riley groaned, hoping hurting Derek's feelings would be the last thing she'd have to deal with for the rest of the night. "Again?" Riley questioned, finally understanding his comment.
"The night you guys caught Boyd and Cora, Lydia found the virgin sacrifice at the pool." Stiles noted, and Riley nodded at the memory. "Now, I don't understand how she keeps doing this, because she swears she isn't psychic."
"How come we never really questioned the fact that Lydia never turned into a werewolf?" Riley asked suddenly. "I mean, did we go over outcomes?" Riley paused, thinking back to all of Lydia's remarks and motives. "She's something."
Stiles drove on, heading for the school parking lot just as Scott pulled up on his dirt bike. Riley got out, looking to Scott with a questioning gaze.
"Where is she?" She asked.
"Right here." Lydia's voice was tired, her body still dressed in her pajamas as she emerged from the shadows with Allison by her side. "It's the same thing." She gasped, her lips trembling as she looked to her friends. "Same thing as the pool. I got in the car heading somewhere totally different and ended up here." Lydia looked to Stiles. "And you told me to call you if there were any dead bodies."
"Okay," Stiles nodded. "Where's the dead body?"
"I didn't find it yet." Lydia answered honestly.
"What do you mean? Lydia," Stiles sighed. "You're suppose to call us after you find the dead body."
"Oh, no." Lydia held up a finger. "I'm not doing that again. You guys can find the dead bodies from now on."
"How are we suppose to find the dead body?" Stiles barked. "You're the one whose suppose to find the dead body."
There banter became background noise as Riley felt a warm hand weave around her wrist. She looked up to Scott, his eyes distant as he eyed the darkness of the school warily. She followed his gaze, gulping back bile once she spotted what he had found. The school's sign was splattered red, the body of an officer displayed in a gruesome death thrown carelessly on the lawn.
Another sacrifice in the Darach's killing spree.
It took two hours for them to give their statements, blinded by the flashing cop cars as they all mourned their fallen deputy. The night turned late as Riley was finally able to find comfort in the warmth of her sheets. But sleep didn't come.
She tossed and turned, envisioning slit throats and a burdening weight. The Darach was just getting started, and Riley felt helpless to the sacrifices that seemed to happen too often these days. When she had finally fallen asleep, the nightmares had come back. Mocking and taunting her with indecisive illusions of what could and couldn't possibly be the future.
Lydia's cheeks were red, full of air with her lips held tightly shut. Her hands reached out, trying to breach the distance of herself and the darkness. A muted cry rumbled in her throat, echoing in the hollows of her chest with displeasure and fearfulness.
Her fingers spread further, trying desperately to reach whatever was hiding in the thick, black haze. Her pale skin glowed, her petite frame shaking with suffocation as the wetness gathered in her eyes.
Her muscles strained, still reaching into the darkness with willing hands.
Her fingers wound around a thick, black post. Bring it to her chest as her fragile hands twined around the thick wire tied around it. Lydia brought it to her eye level, investigating the object with weary eyes.
She dropped the garrote suddenly.
A wail escaped her parted lips, a high pitched cry bounding from her lungs. It echoed fearlessly throughout the haze, ricocheting off the darkness.
Lydia's cry bubbled in Riley's chest, her lips parting as the scream echoed from her own lips. It startled her from her sleep, trying to shut her mouth but her jaw seemed to lock into place. Her body froze, rolling to the side as her pillow muffled the scream as it died down into a quite whimper.
"What the hell was that?" Stiles bounded through Riley's door, bat in hand as he ran to her side. His hands grasped her shaking shoulders, rolling her back onto her back as she gasped between air and quiet cries. "Hey-hey what happened?" He asked, his thumb collecting the tears on her cheeks. He pushed the hair from her face, holding her steady as she continued to cry. Her bodies spasms dimmed, beginning to catch her breath. "Hey," Stiles pulled her head to his chest. "You're okay. Sssh. Hey, it's all right."
He hummed in her ear, waiting until her breathing softened and her frame stilled. Riley pulled herself from his grasp, wiping the stray tears on her shirt. Her hand wrapped around her throat, swallowing against the rawness that had shredded away her insides. She coughed into her hand, her throat swollen. "What happened?" Stiles asked again, his figure glowing from the rising sun. Riley shook her head, snifling back the remaining tears. "Was it a dream?" Stiles asked in a hushed whisper.
Riley nodded, licking her chapped lips as she looked to him. "I had a dream about Lydia."
"What happened?" Stiles asked more urgently. "Is she hurt? Will she be hurt?"
"I don't know." Riley's voice overlapped his. "All she did was scream." She confessed, rubbing at her temple as a headache began to weave it's way through. "All she did was scream." She repeated again.
It was an honest confusion that bled into the gentle cluster of memories held within Riley's mind. She'd gone months without a single dream, and within the past few weeks it seemed as if her mind had made up for all the lost time. The dreams didn't exactly line up in Riley's eyes. . . the connections to the black hooded figure and Lydia just didn't make sense. School seemed to pass in a blur, meekly making her way through her first four classes with tired eyes and inability to focus. The sacrifice from the night before hadn't allowed her to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning, and when she had finally caught the rest she craved, she'd immediately been disturbed by the wailing.
It turned out that the guardian sacrifice they'd found had been a close Stilinski family friend. Deputy Tara wasn't just John's friend, but Stiles' mentor. She saw the beaten and saddened expression in both of them at the realization they'd never have her back. And then the quick fear that accumulated between her and Stiles when they realized that an officer sufficed as a guardian put John Stilinski at risk. Riley vowed with Stiles that they'd both keep him under constant surveillance.
Riley ignored the gripping and tearing that chewed away in the bottom of her stomach as she walked into Mrs. Blake's aiding class. She smiled to her friends in the back of the room, taking her seat at the teachers desk. She pulled out her homework as usual, Blake's lecture a dull background noise to her inability to focus. She couldn't help the frown that laced her lips as she watched Blake lecture the class, smiling to Stiles and Lydia as if nothing had happened just that following Friday. The teacher didn't even seem phased. Didn't even bat an eyelash at the fact that she'd seen a werewolf fight break out over her.
That didn't settle well with Riley. When the bell rang, she gathered her things, heading for Scott and Stiles' seats as they packed their own belongings. "Were hatching a plan." Stiles spoke in a quiet whisper. "Lydia is going to distract Aiden while we try to siphon information from Ethan."
"What kind of information are we trying to get?" Riley asked, fiddling with the corner of the binder she held in her hands.
"Now listen," Stiles continued, winking to Scott with a solid smile. He looked back to Riley with confidence. "What if the Darach was an emissary to the Alpha pack?"
Riley pursed her lips as she pondered the idea. She nodded, looking back to her friends. "It's a possibility." She agreed. "The Alpha's had to kill their packs in order to join Deaucalions. . . The Darach could have easily slipped away."
"Alright," Scott clapped his hands together as they headed for the classroom door. "Lets find Ethan."
Riley nodded, following behind them as she toyed with the possibilities of the Dark Oak. "Haven?" A voice sounded, turning around with confusion as Mrs. Blake approached her with timid movements. "Would you mind staying a few minutes?" She asked. "I'd like to speak with you."
Riley's lips parted as she looked to Scott and Stiles, they shrugged as they headed off to find the good twin, bidding her good luck. She waited until the soft click of the door before she turned to face the teacher, wondering why she'd want to speak to her of all people. "Did you need something?" Riley asked, raising a brow. She didn't want to seem weak, holding her head high as she faced the reason for everyone's devastation. Her fingers drummed against the binding of her binder, waiting impatiently.
"I actually just noticed how upset you looked this entire period." Jennifer Blake commented. "I was wondering if it had anything to do with what happened the other night?"
There it was, Riley thought. There was the proof she needed to realize that Blake hadn't completely forgotten about her friend's death. The fighting Alpha's. "It's that." Riley agreed, shuffling her feet beneath her as she glanced to Blake with a forceful stare. "And a couple different things." Like how your stupid face makes my stomach twist into grotesque knots.
"Well," Blake wrung her hands together, pretending to act disturbed and shy. "I'm here if you need to talk."
"I'd prefer not to." Riley spoke over her. Her voice was assertive. "But thanks."
She began inching backwards, heading for the door in hopes that the conversation was over. Blake took a step towards her, her eyes skimming Riley's tired face. "You haven't been sleeping much." Blake noticed. "Have you?"
Riley's brows knitted, wondering why the teacher seemed to state the obvious. Did she not see what had happened Friday night? Did she not understand that things like that seemed to happen too often under everyone's noses. "Between fighting werewolves and the crippling nightmares," Riley spat. "Yeah, I'm sleeping just fine." She didn't mean to sound so vicious, but her voice seemed to sour on it's own accord. She felt her hands shake with aggravation as Blake studied her with a quiet expression.
Her blue eyes were curious. Hungry for more information. Calculating as she gave a small grin to Riley. "You know," Blake hummed. Her heels clicked against the tile floor as she took small steps in Riley's direction. "Dreams can sometimes be the minds way of foretelling a disastrous event." Blake shrugged, her eyes slightly narrowed as Riley pushed back against the door.
She frowned at her statement, confused and flustered as she pushed against the door with a slight bit of aggression. She rolled her eyes as she headed into the empty hallway, bothered by the tone Jennifer had used. The statement she'd made was old news to Riley. She already knew what her gift meant, she didn't need the cryptic, gut wrenching English teacher budding into her business. A chilled shiver passed through her shoulders, cracking her neck as she eased the tension from her system.
The halls were nearly empty as she searched for Scott and Stiles, knowing they had set off to find Ethan. She passed her locker, putting her binder inside with slight frustration. She slammed it shut, the bang echoing in her mind as she frowned down at her feet. A silence fell upon the hall, the slight recognition of voices humming ricocheted off the metal frames of the lockers. Riley strained her hearing, her feet following the sound without much realization. She rounded the corner of the hallway, finding Stiles, Scott, and Ethan perched along the staircase, deep in conversation. She approached warily, watching as Ethan eyed Stiles with muted aggression.
". . . I'm going to break off an extra large branch of mountain ash." Stiles voice was angry. "Wrap it in Wolfsbane. Roll it in mistletoe and shove it right up your freaking as-"
"Hey." Riley voiced, calmly approaching them. "What's going on?" She acted innocent as if she didn't know why her friends had approached the Alpha.
"Were talking to you," Scott implied, his eyes soft as he looked to Ethan. "Because we know you didn't want to kill Boyd." Riley took her stance beside Ethan, crossing her arms over her chest as she silently awaited the information they were aiming for. "And I think that if something like that happened again you wouldn't do it."
Ethan shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. He'd always kept quiet about how he felt in the placement of the pack. "You're nothing like Aiden." Riley assured him, playing along with a hopeful expression.
"You don't understand." Ethan sighed. "You don't know what we owe the pack. . . Especially Deucalion." His eyes scanned from Scott to Stiles, finally landing on Riley. "We weren't like Enniss and Kali when we met him. We weren't Alpha's."
Riley frowned at the mention of her sister. "What were you?" She questioned.
"Omega's." Ethan sneered. Riley watched as he ran a heated hand over his short, angled nose. embarrassed to admit that he and his brothers hadn't always been so high and mighty. "In real wolf packs, Omega's are the scapegoat. The last to eat." He sighed. "The ones who take the abuse from the pack."
"So you and Aiden were like. . . the bitches of the pack?" Stiles asked, slight amusement etched into the curve of his lips. Ethan nodded.
"Something like that." He agreed.
"What happened?" Scott pressed.
"They were killers." Ethan shrugged. "I mean, people talk about us as being monsters, but they were the ones who gave us the reputation." He frowned at the distant memory of the abuse and anger his old Alpha had put him and his brother through. "Our Alpha was the worst of them."
"Why didn't you guys fight back?" Riley asked, trying hard not to sympathize with the boy who helped kill one of her friends. The boy who had caused chaos in her small town.
"Yeah?" Stiles rose a brow to him. "Why didn't you just form your Voltron wolf and kick everyone's asses?"
"We couldn't control it back then." Ethan noted.
"But Deucalion taught you." Scott hinted, and Ethan nodded in agreement. A vicious smirk laced his lips as he remembered the power he felt when he'd phased with his brother for the first time. The excitement that claimed him when they tore their claws into the people they hated most.
"We took down the whole pack. One-by-one." Ethan continued. "And by the time we got to our Alpha, he was begging for his life." He smiled at the memory, watching the man who had turned him suffer beneath his feet. "We tore him apart." He stated simply. "Literally."
"And what about your emissary?" Riley asked, forming the question they had all been waiting to voice. Ethan rolled his shoulders, pursing his lips with distaste. He rose a thumb to his neck, gliding it across the width of his throat signaling that they'd killed them too.
"Kali and Enniss killed their's too." Ethan reminded. "The only one who is still alive is Deucalion's."
"You mean Morrell?" Riley hinted, her lips formed another question, but it got overlapped by a sudden gasp escaping Ethan's mouth. His hands shook as he gripped his chest, his breathing labored as his brows furrowed in confusion. "What's wrong?"
"Are you hurt?" Scott reached a hand out as Ethan winced in pain once more.
"Not me." Ethan heaved. "My brother."
Ethan's hands landed on Riley's shoulders as he pushed her a side, bounding from the stairs with quick steps as he strained his hearing. An invisible gash tore away at his chest, signaling that his brother had been hurt. Riley, Scott, and Stiles were quick to follow him. Matching his quick steps as Ethan headed to an unknown destination. He bounded down another set of stairs, and Riley had a hunch as to where they were headed. She gulped back, knowing that Lydia had been left with Aiden, and if Aiden was hurt. . . where did that leave her friend?
Ethan swung the door open with aggression, watching as his brother stood over a female frame. A bench press weight held in his hands as he readied himself to slam it into his victim. "Stop!" Ethan roared, reaching his brother as he pulled the weapon from his claws.
Riley reached the locker room, her eyes finding a pale brunette splayed across the floor. "Cora." Riley whispered, her legs bringing her to Derek's sisters side. She bent down, steadying her as she swayed sitting up.
"She came at me!" Aiden growled, his eyes narrowed at the younger Hale.
"It doesn't matter!" Ethan stammered. "Kali gave Derek until the next full moon. You can't touch him or her."
Aiden sneered in Cora's direction, cracking his neck as he headed for the locker room door. Ethan shot the group and apologized glance before following his brother out. In the corner of her eye, Riley watched as Lydia approached with a shaking frame. "I tried to stop him." Lydia swore, her voice shaking.
Riley looked back to Cora, her pale face slick with sweat. Her plump lips pale as her eyes became hooded. "Hey," Riley spoke. Her hands grasped Cora's jacket as she stumbled to her feet. "I don't think she's doing too good."
"I'm fine." Cora waved her off, facing the mirror as she inspected her head wound. She snatched the paper towels Stiles offered her, holding them to the blood that seeped from her temple.
"You sure you're okay?" Riley asked, her hand running across Cora's back.
"She doesn't look okay." Scott commented.
Cora frowned, shaking off Riley's hand as she growled. "I said I'm fine." She threw her crimson stained towels into the trash. "I'll heal." Cora went to step around Riley, her anger pulsing with her defeat. She'd gone after Aiden in hopes of hurting him more severely than he'd hurt her. It didn't turn out as planned. Cora swayed, her knee's buckling as Scott and Lydia both reached out a hand to steady her. She pulled back, forcing their hands off of her.
"Do you realize how suicidily crazy that was?" Riley spoke in an accusing tone. "To go after an Alpha? What were you think-"
"I did it for Boyd." Cora growled. Her eyes went to Scott and Stiles. "None of you were doing anything." She sneered.
"Were trying." Scott assured.
"And you're failing." Her tone was heated. Laced with anger and fuel that only fed the fight she felt she needed to have. "You're all just a bunch of stupid teenagers." Cora murmured. Riley flinched at her words, wondering why Cora had seemed so much nicer the night before, only to have her attitude flip so fast. "You're all running around," she laughed. "Thinking you can stop people from getting killed. But all you do is show up late." Cora eyed each teen individually, her eyes unapologetic. "All you really do is find the bodies."
Riley felt a weight lay upon her shoulder as Cora's words sank in. She wanted to defend her and her friends. She wanted to assure her that they were doing the best that they could, but she couldn't find her voice. She watched as Derek's sister turned on her heel, her legs unsteady as she headed for the exit. "She's definitely a Hale." Stiles sighed once she was out of ear shot. Stiles gripped Riley's wrist, heading after the wounded teen. "We'll make sure she get's home."
It took five minutes of convincing, and an pology that Riley wasn't even sure was for until Cora would get into the car with them. She sat angrily in the back of the Jeep, her arms crossed over her chest in annoyance. She meant the words she said, but she did regret the way she'd phrased it. There was a tensed silence in the car as Stiles continued driving to the loft. Stiles drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, still sad over Deputy Tara's death. His phone vibrated softly in his pocket, looking to the caller ID before handing it to Riley.
"Can you answer it?" He asked, his eyes firmly on the road. "Put it on speaker."
Riley nodded, pressing the green button as she held the phone between her and Stiles on the middle console. "Hey, Allison." Riley's voice murmured.
"Is Stiles with you?" She asked, her voice rushed and slightly confused.
"Here!" Stiles called, continuing to drive. "What's up?"
"Hey-okay." Allison took a steady breath as she tried to relay a message. "I'm at my house with Isaac, and we both found something interesting in my fathers office." Stiles brows knitted together as he glanced to Riley. "There is a symbol etched onto my fathers desk. A celtic symbol - a five folded knot." Her voice stuttered as she gulped viciously on the other end. "My father wrote individual things in each knot with invisible ink and it can only be seen with a black light."
"He really didn't want it to be found." Riley commented.
"Exactly!" Allison agreed into the phone.
"Is that all you wanted to tell me?" Stiles asked.
"No. Oh-no. There's more." Allison breathed over the receiver. "He has a map with the same ink, and there are marks where each sacrifice was found. There are more marks than there were actual sacrifices, which makes me believe he's planned everything!"
"What did he write in the knots?" Cora's voice sounded as she sat up in her chair. She leaned forward, interested in where the conversation was headed.
"Healers." Allison continued. "Virgins. Warriors. Philosophers."
"Philosophers?" Stiles questioned.
"And Guardians." Allison finished. "After what happened last night, I think the Darach is onto Guardians next. Like law enforcement." Riley felt the slight swerve of the vehicle as the statement settled in with Stiles. "You have to tell your dad." Allison murmured. "Tell him whatever you have to, but you have to make him believe. You need to warn him."
Allison hung up then.
Stiles gripped the steering wheel forcefully, his knuckles turning white beneath the pressure of his grasp. His body shook, trying to calm his breathing. Easing away the symptoms of an anxiety attack. "What are you gonna do?" Cora asked.
"I'm gonna tell him the truth." Stiles gulped, a solid nod. He looked to Cora from his review mirror. "And I'm gonna need your help."
"My help?" She asked, raising a brow.
"I have to tell him everything." Stiles enunciated. "All about the werewolves. The Darach." He tensed his shoulders. "He needs to know so he can be protected."
Stiles had called his father in advance, his voice urgent and demanding as he pleaded with him to meet them at home. His father was at work, waist deep in missing person reports and deaths. He bit back his need for wanting to solve these unsolved cases, thinking there was something wrong back at his home. Riley and Cora waited in Stiles' room, pacing the floors as Stiles fidgeted nervously on his bed. Riley paused once she heard the cruiser pull up. The tires crunching against the gravel of the drive way. The car door slammed. John's boots clanking against the porch as the front door opened.
"Stiles?" John called, his voice laced with a sense of urgency. "Everything okay?"
"In here!" Riley called back, noticing how Stiles jaw had seemed to lock. He rose from his seat as John came up the stairs. Cora took his seat, perching herself on the edge of the bed as her own nerves seemed to gather.
John entered the room, his face expectant as he looked to the teenagers huddled inside. He was expecting someone to be hurt. Something to be broken. His brows twisted in confusion. "What's going on?" He asked.
"Dad-dad just listen for a moment. Okay?" Stiles put a hand on his fathers shoulder, guiding him further into his bedroom as he pulled a chair out for him at his desk. "Look-I know you're busy, but. . . But there's something I need to tell you."
John went rigid as he leaned back in his seat, his eyes turning to Riley, and then to the unfamiliar girl who sat on his sons bed. "Whose that?"
"That's Cora." Riley answered. Cora smiled shyly from the bed, her hand waving timidly. "Cora Hale."
"Hale?" Stilinski pressed. "As in-"
"Yes." Riley nodded. "But that isn't what we need to tell you." She hinted, looking to Stiles in hopes that he would take it from there. He stood, his hands on his hips, shuffling his feet under the pressure he was under.
"What's going on?" John asked again. His tone etched with irritation. "Stiles?"
He cracked his posture, his legs breaking into a heated pace. "I'm sorry, okay?" Stiles breathed. "I'm just trying to figure out how to tell you-"
"You didn't get someone pregnant did you?" John frowned. "Please tell me you did't get someone preg-"
"I didn't get someone pregnant." Stiles clarified. His arms flailing with anxiety. He looked to Riley for help, and she gave him an encouraging nod. "Um-okay. So for the past year you've had all these cases you couldn't figure out, right? I mean, all the murders involving Kate Argent, and then Matt killing all the people who had drowned him. . . and all the murders now. It's-It's kind of like you're playing a losing game."
John frowned at his son. "Stiles," He sighed. "The last thing I need right now is a job performance from my own son."
"Okay, yeah." Stiles agreed. "But that's just it. You're playing a losing game because you havent been able to see the whole board." Stiles paused his pacing, turning for his book case as he plucked a box of chess from his shelf. "I need to show you the whole board."
Riley helped Stiles clear the clutter from his desk, stepping back as he set up the checkerboard before his father. He hesitated, his hands shaking as he dove into his backpack. He retrieved multiple stacks of sticky notes, ripping the paper in half as he began writing names across the tops. Each color represented a different thing. Taking each name on each individual color, Stiles placed them on separate chess pieces. Riley caught on, grabbing a stack as she helped him out. They finished quickly, their nerves a jittering mess as they took a step back. John eyed the board with curiosity . . . looking to his son with confusion.
Stiles lips parted, only to close without as much as a whisper. He did that nearly a dozen times. His throat began to close up, his mouth becoming dry as he tried to find the right words to express to his father what the truth was. He looked to Riley, his eyes numb and scared as he gulped. She took a steady breath as she approached the table, her hand plucking a chess piece from the board. She twirled it in her hands, running her fingers along the pink sticky note that was taped to the top of it.
A small cough escaped her lips as she cleared her throat. "There's things I know you can't explain." She began, her voice steady. "Bodies torn apart. People dying left and right. You can't close any of those cases because you don't know the truth." She sighed, placing the pink chess piece down in front of John. "The pink stands for werewolves." She breathed, her eyes sincere as she held her breath. She awaited John's reaction, wondering if he'd become mad. He looked up at her, his brow raised in un-amusement.
"Hm." John sighed, running a rigid hand over his face as he began to stand up. "Yeah-I don't have time for this." He murmured, his tone laced with slight acidity. Riley panicked, her hand clutching his shoulder as she forcefully pushed him back into his seat.
"John! No." She instructed, her voice trying to stay calm. "You need to hear this-okay? Look." Her finger pointed to the pink chess players once more. "The pink stands for werewolves." She counted on her fingers as she spoke the names aloud. "Scott. Derek. Derek's family. Jackson Whittemore. And Isaac Lahey." John put his chin on his fist, his breathing coming in annoyed spurts as he narrowed his eyes at the board. "Purple," Riley continued, pointing to the chess pieces. "Are for hunters. Allison, Chris, and Kate Argent. That green one is an Emissary which represents Dr. Deaton."
"Hmmm." John hummed. "Mhhm." He pointed to a chess piece that held both blue and pink sticky notes. "And what's this one?"
"That is a Kanima." Stiles and Riley spoke at the same time.
John nodded, his expression void as he pointed to a white one. "And this one?"
"That one is a Darach." Riley stated with confidence, her fingers numbly twisting the ring on her index finger.
"And this one?" He asked, pointing to a single red chess played.
Riley paused, her brows knitting as she shrugged. "That one-I actuall don't know." She looked to Stiles with confusion, raising a brow to him as he pursed his lips. He plucked the piece from the board, holding it in front of his father.
"This one is Riley." He stated carefully, side glancing her with uncertain eyes.
"Hm." John nodded, looking to the girl he'd taken under his roof. "And what are you?" He asked. "A mermaid?"
"No." Riley shook her head. "Actually, I'm-I'm a precognitive dreamer." John took a deep breath, filling his lungs to their capacity as he let it out in an annoyed heave. "Look," Riley started. "I know this doesn't really make sense, but I'll try an explain it the best I can." She steadied herself as she gained his attention. "Derek Hale and his family are natural born werewolves. Kate Argent was the one who set the fire and killed nearly everyone." Riley gave a sympathetic glance to Cora. "Now Derek's uncle got revenge by killing her, but that was after he bit and turned Scott. Aftewards Derek killed his uncle which turned him into an Alpha." Riley took a deep breath, having said it in one swift movement. "Now Derek turned a bunch of other people into wolves so that he could form a pack-now I'll admit it didn't turn out so well." Riley frowned. "He bit Jackson Whittemore. Erica Reyes. Vernon Boyd, and Isaac Lahey. Now, nearly all the others turned, but because of some unresolved issue in Jackson's past, he didn't turn into a wolf. . . he turned into a Kanima. A kanima," Riley took another breath. "Is a half lizard-half man thing that seeps this toxic stuff from it's claws. Jackson then became possessed under Matt's control. Matt then used Jackson to do the killings for him. After Matt died, Gerard-Allison's grandfather took over Jackson who died and then came back as a werewolf. Now," Riley ran wild fingers through her hair. "There's something killing people now. They call it a Darach which use to be an emissary before it became evil because it was killed and then came back to life. This is the one causing the sacrifices. . ." Riley ticked off her fingers. "Heather. The teachers. Now Tara. The Darach is killing Guardians and were telling you this to keep you safe."
Riley bit her lip as she studied John's expression. He narrowed his eyes at the board, his hand rubbing at his jaw as he suddenly leaned forward. "So let me get this straight." John murmured. Riley looked to Stiles, both nervous and anxious. "Scott, Derek, and Isaac are werewolves?" He looked to his son expectantly. Stiles nodded in return. "And Kate Argent was a werewolf before being killed?" His brows knitted in confusion. Riley rolled her eyes, shaking her head.
"Hunter," Stiles corrected. "The purple is hunter."
"Along with Allison and her father." Cora spoke up for the first time, reminding John.
"Hm." John hummed, looking to Riley with accusing eyes. "And you're the Kanima? The one who killed everyone?"
"No." Stiles shook his head. "No. No. No. She can see the future."
"Oh." John nodded, smiling up at Riley with fake enthusiasm. "What's this months powerball numbers?" He joked, but Riley's stern face shook off his sarcasm.
"I can only see the future in my dreams." Riley noted.
"Okay," John frowned. "So, my friend Deaton, the Vetinarian is the Kanima?"
"No," Stiles sighed. "He's a druid-slash-emissary."
John became frustration as he flung a hand at the board. "Then who the hell is the Kanima?"
"Jackson." Riley and Stiles stated at the same time.
"No." John corrected. "Jackson's a werewolf."
"Jackson was the Kanima," Stiles reminded him. "Then Derek and his uncle Peter killed him and then he came back as a werewolf." Stiles rolled his eyes. "Now he's in London."
"Whose the Da-rack?" He asked, the veins in his forehead protruding with each confusing detail. He glared at each individual chess piece, wondering when he could find enough free time to lock his son in a mental institution.
"It's pronounced Da-rock." Stiles enunciated.
"And we don't know yet." Cora sighed, rolling her eyes when Stiles repeated her.
"Okay." John's eyes widened in disbelief. "Why was Jackson the Kanima?" He asked suddenly.
"Sometime the shape you take reflects the person that you are."
John's brows angled downward, glaring at the two kids from beneath his lashes. "And what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier-by-the-second father take?"
Riley frowned as Stiles expression suddenly fell. "That's more like an expression. . ." He muttered. "Kind of like the one you're currently wearing."
John's face was tinted red, his anger bubbling as he stood from his chair. He was pissed at the fact that he'd left work to listen to a bunch of insane teenagers ramble on about bullshit he wouldn't believe. "John," Riley tried as he shuffled from her grasp. He headed for the door as Riley and Stiles panicked. "Please wait!"
"Dad!" Stiles called, his voice a cracked and hoarse. "Just please listen! Hey! Wouldn't you just wait a sec-!" John paused, rolling his tense shoulders as he turned to face his son once more. "Look, I can prove it to you, okay?" Stiles pointed to Cora. "She's one of them. She's a werewolf!"
Cora froze under the weight of the Sheriff's glare. "Cora," Riley whispered to her. "We need to make him believe." Cora took a cautious breath, coming to her feet as she nodded to Stiles and Riley.
"All right, dad!" Stiles assured. "Watch this, okay?"
He pointed over his shoulder, expecting Cora to phase her eyes from brown to gold. She didn't. Her legs buckled under a severe pressure, falling to the carpet floor with a muted thud. John's eyes watched, his legs carrying him to the girl as he bent to his knees. His fingers found the divet of her throat, her pulse low as her head wound from earlier re-opened. "Call an ambulance!"
AN: Eeeeek! I am so excited to share part two of this chapter next week! Stay tuned, because it will be good! I hope this chapter did the episode justice so far, even though it was kind of quickly written!
Please review if you can. I'd love to hear your thoughts, concerns and theories regarding Finding Haven!
As always, you can find me on Tumblr where I post daily teasers about upcoming chapters at HavenBoundinBeaconHills
See you next week,
-Ashley