"You're doing homework?" Isaac commented, raising his eyebrows.
Carrie didn't look up from her work. Instead, she nodded and continued with her maths work.
The panic and adrenaline of the day had worn off and she felt both tired and terrified. She hadn't really had time, earlier, to process everything. She understood it at the time, sure, but she hadn't really thought about the whole situation.
The whole werewolf situation. Werewolf. As in, creatures of myth. Things that made up the scary stories kids would tell each other, or read about. Not real beings, surely. And yet she'd gotten proof. Real, hard, undeniable proof.
And Isaac was one of them.
He was one of them and now they were sitting alone in the Stilinski living room while Stiles went out to get pizza. At least, that's what Isaac said Stiles was doing when Isaac arrived twenty minutes ago and Stiles bolted out the door.
And if Isaac was a werewolf, that must have been what that thing that killed her mother and attacked them today was. Except it was all wrong. Isaac had still looked… human, underneath. That thing- there was nothing human there. Not in the eyes or the enormous shape of the body.
"You do realize it's spring break, right?" Isaac asked, still watching her intently.
What she wanted to do, really, was ignore him. Act like he wasn't there. But her pounding heart betrayed her.
Could he hear it? She wondered suddenly. Could he tell that she was terrified of him?
She thought back to that day not too long ago when he'd grabbed her arm in the hallway and she'd been so scared, and he had just grinned, like he knew and he thought it was funny.
He was definitely aware.
"So then you enjoy it?" She blurted angrily, turning to face him. She clutched her pencil in one hand, not sure if she would use it as a weapon if she needed to. For some reason despite being terrified she didn't think he would attack her. He could have already and he hadn't.
"Enjoy what?" Isaac asked, looking genuinely confused.
"Scaring me!" Carrie demanded, incensed. "You smile like it's a game, like it's funny." Tears of frustration welled in her eyes and she wiped at them, annoyed. "It's not funny." She added softly.
Isaac stared at her, unblinking. Slowly his eyes went from being filled with confusion to filled with something darker. Something sad.
"I'm sorry." Isaac said quietly, frowning as if he wasn't sure that was the right word to use.
Carrie resisted the urge to snap at him again and turned back to her work.
"Hey," Issac said, putting a hand on her arm. "Really. I'm sorry. I guess you're right," he admitted. "I did enjoy it. It was amusing, how I could get your heart racing so face without even trying. I can't say I didn't mean to, because I did. I guess I just didn't really think about the consequences."
"How would you feel?" She asked him, not even close to forgiving him. "It's not fun, Isaac. Being scared of someone. Or something. Especially when that person is doing it for fun. For their own enjoyment."
His eyes clouded over and she could sense that he was thinking of something else, oblivious to the world around him for just a moment.
"So you probably hate me, huh?" Isaac asked, leaning back and breaking contact.
Carrie dropped her pencil and leaned back from the table, crossing her arms over her chest as she did so. "Not really. I just think you're a jerk eighty percent of the time."
"Only eighty?"
"Well your mouth is shut roughly twenty percent of the time, so…" Carrie trailed off, grinning.
"Oh, so I'm only okay when I'm not talking?" Isaac countered, putting his elbows on his legs and leaning forward. "Is that because I'm so good to look at?"
Carrie's heart started beating quickly again but this time for a completely different reason. "Not really." She said flippantly.
"Liar."
"I can't find anything." Stiles said, throwing up his hands in defeat. "I don't even know what to go on since you won't really explain anything to me." He added while narrowing his eyes in Derek's direction.
Derek tossed his book to the ground. "Neither do I." He admitted, looking frustrated with himself. "We might as well stop. There's no use, I don't even know what to look for."
"Don't you have like, A Big Book of Hale book or something? Like the bestiary, except, you know, for your family."
"If we do it's gone." Derek said, turning his back on him. " This is all that I could salvage and I haven't found anything like it."
"Come on," Stiles looked around the room. "I bet there's one. I mean, you're a family of werewolves. There's got to be something like that. I bet it wouldn't just be lying around, though. It'd be somewhere protected. Somewhere safe." Stiles paused. "Like a safe!"
"There's no safe here."
"Ok, then maybe somewhere hidden? You can't honestly tell me that you don't think there's a chance that some book like that exists." Derek hesitantly nodded and Stiles continued. "Okay, so then where could it be?"
"It's not in the house. I've searched the entire thing and it's definitely not here."
"What if it was left somewhere not in the house, just in case something happened? What if it was left with, like, I don't know, a friend of the families or a worker or someone like that?"
Realization dawned in Derek's eyes. "Deaton."
"Wouldn't he have given it to you already if he had it?" Stiles questioned, seeing a lot of flaws in that idea.
"No." Derek said quickly.
"Why not?"
"Because Deaton's a dick. He liked to watch us flounder around like a chicken with its head cut off." Derek grabbed his coat as he spoke. "Let's go."
"So I'm back to being Stiles Stilinski, Taxi Service." Stiles muttered before grabbing his coat.
"I'm gonna to be at least another half an hour." Stiles said into the phone. "Since Derek apparently doesn't understand the concept of walking.
"Well I had a car of my own," Isaac heard Derek say in the background. "But someone blew it up, remember?"
"That wasn't my fault!" Stiles shot back. "But I'm the one being punished. You know what, the rest of you all need to get your own cars. That's it. This taxi service is closing."
Isaac stood in Stiles' kitchen, peering out the window. "Are you aware that you two sound married half the time?"
"Are you aware that I could slice you in half using one finger?" Derek said, obviously having heard him.
Isaac laughed, not really buying the threat. "Anyways, take as long as you want. I've got everything under control here." He pulled back from the window, not seeing anything worrying outside. "Also you might want to pick up some pizza on your way home because that's what I told Carrie you were doing."
He heard Stiles sigh and then he muttered, "Fine, just don't break anything." He paused. "And don't harass her or anything. You're there to watch her, not … flirt or whatever it is you're doing or thinking of doing. And don't say you're not because you sound way too please by this whole situation to not be benefiting from it somehow."
"Goodbye, Stiles." Isaac said, hanging up without agreeing to anything.
"So he's not going for pizza?" Carrie asked, making Isaac jump and drop the phone.
"How do you do that?" He asked, bending down to pick it up. "You always manage to sneak up on me."
Carrie crossed her arms over her chest. "Don't change the subject. You're not just here to hang out with Stiles, are you?"
Isaac ran a hand through his curls, trying to think of an excuse. "Maybe I'm here to see you."
Carrie just stared at him, her lips slightly pursed. He tried to stare back and not break eye contact but after a few seconds he couldn't help it. She made him feel guilty just by looking at him.
"Okay, fine, Stiles needed to do a favor for Derek. Derek's the guy who helped us out of the woods today." He added at the end, remembering that the two of them hadn't exactly been formally introduced.
"That still doesn't explain why you're here."
Isaac sighed. "Stiles thinks that that thing that attacked us today wants to kill you and he asked me to watch you while he's out."
"That is incredibly belittling." Carrie told him, scrunching her nose up in annoyance. "And that thing doesn't want to kill me."
"You sure about that?" Isaac asked while pulling out a chair from the kitchen table. "Because I remember it chasing you today and it probably would have killed you if I hadn't shown up."
"And I remember you being thrown up against a tree. That thing would have killed you if I hadn't stood in front of you. All it did was sniff me and then it left." She told him. She pulled up a chair of her own and sat at the table. "So maybe it's actually trying to kill you."
"Are you stalking me?" Erica asked, not looking up from the book in her hand.
Josh slipped into the bench seat beside her. "Um, this is the mall. Where people shop. And I'm shopping."
"Mhmm."
"How do I know you're not the one stalking me?" Josh countered, and Erica looked up into his green eyes, a single golden eyebrow raised. "Okay, so neither of us is stalking each other." He carelessly threw an arm over the back of the bench. "Maybe it's just fate, bringing us together over and over again."
"If you're going to continue to use cheesey lines like that on me you might want to just get up and walk away now." Erica told him. Part of her wanted to smile, just for a second, but she pushed it down.
The best way to deal with boys, she learned, was to never let them control the situation. Never let them know that you like them too much, or that you think they're sweet. Because the second they know they've got the upper hand, you're screwed.
"So do you come to the mall to read often?" Josh asked, eying her book.
She closed it and put it in her bag. "I was taking a break from trying on clothes, actually."
"Well how about I buy you some lunch instead?" Josh suggested.
Erica eyes him, uncertain. He was cute. No, he was hot, but she always felt on edge when he was around. And he was being a bit too friendly with her. Too friendly usually meant that they only had one thing in mind.
Well, if he actually thought she was going to have sex with him because he said a few flattering words and bought her lunch, so be it. She'd just thank him and be on her way.
"I'm guessing Mr. Stilinski pointed you in the right direction." Deaton commented as he pulled off his plastic gloves.
Derek didn't answer but he didn't need to. Deaton could see it written plainly on his face.
"See? There's a reason that bond is in place. You two do make a good pair."
Derek resisted the urge to growl at him. "Do you have the book?"
"I do." He said, moving past Derek. "It's in my office."
Derek couldn't help but sigh in relief. That was so easy, after Stiles figured it out. And things were never easy for them.
"Why couldn't you just have given it to me in the first place?" Derek asked as he followed Deaton into his office.
Deaton turned and smiled. "If I did all the work for you, how would you ever learn?"
Deaton went to his desk and Derek watched, slightly impressed, as he put a hand on both front legs of the desk and pressed a hidden button at the top of them. Suddenly a drawer at the back popped open.
"There is it." Deaton told him.
Derek moved forwards and pulled the drawer open the rest of the way. Inside was a book about the size of the average novel. It looked just like one, too, except it had no title. He kind of expected it to be old and withered, but it was in good condition, as if it had been taken very well care of.
Derek tucked the book under his arm and stood there awkwardly for a moment. He knew he ought to say it but he really didn't want to. "Thank… you." He said slowly.
"Any time, Derek." Deaton told him. "I'm very impressed by what you and Mr. Stilinski can accomplish when you actually work together instead of against each other."
Derek didn't know what to say to that. Well, he thought of a few things but calling Deaton an assbucket after giving him the book seemed a little wrong, so he held it in. Instead, he left, returning to Stiles' jeep.
"he had it, didn't he?" Stiles demanded the second he opened the door. He was like a hyped up puppy, brown eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly.
Derek tossed the book to him and he caught it, just barely, on the tips of his fingers. "I knew it. Who was right? Oh, yeah, it was me." Stiles said, his lips turned upwards in a self congratulating smile. "Let's just hope that it has what we're looking for."
"Something about people having affects on werewolves. Deaton said my aunt and Carrie have something in common, and that something is their affect on me. Or maybe it's all werewolves? I don't know. All I know is that when she's even in the same room as me I just feel… calm. Weirdly calm."
"Ooookay." Stiles said slowly, flipping open the book. "That was really helpful. What's your aunts name?"
"Lisa."
Stiles nodded and started reading. They hadn't left the vet clinic parking lot yet and Derek sat there, impatiently waiting for Stiles to figure it out.
"Stop doing that." Stiles ordered, not looking up.
"Doing what? I'm not even moving." Derek said narrowing his eyes in annoyance.
"Staring at me! I can feel your eyes burning into my soul."
"Well maybe if you'd hurry up-,"
"Maybe if you stopped distracting me I would!"
Derek turned away from him and purposely stared out the window and Stiles went back to reading.
"You said Lisa, right?" Stiles asked after a few moment.
"Yeah?"
"She's not under the list of werewolves in your family history here." Stiles said, opening the book wide on his lap so Derek could see. He pointed to a family tree. "She's not on there anywhere. No Lisa. Does she have a different last name? Was she married into the family?"
"No, she was my dad's sister. She was born into the family."
Derek leaned in and frowned. He lifted his eyes to Stiles, only to find the other staring straight ahead, looking uncomfortable. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he would not look at Derek.
"You done leaning towards my crotch now?" He asked.
Derek jerked his head back so fast he hit his head on the roof of the jeep. "Damn it," he muttered, rubbing his head.
"Wait, there's a list on the next page." Stiles commented, eyes scanning the page quickly. "Lisa Hale, born December 13th, 1971."
"Okay, but why is she in a separate list?"
"Because," Stiles said slowly. "She's not a werewolf."