Chapter Twenty Five – Silver Finger

Jules stared at the miniature calendar that her mother kept on the refrigerator. She listened to Charlotte discuss the plans of the next week though a haze of exhaustion. Not that Jules needed to listen, she knew what was happening. She couldn't stop thinking about it as she gazed at the days date.

November 1st

Her stomach churned as she read through the week.

November 3rd – Leave for LaGuardia from LAX,

November 6th – Trial begins

November 7th – Jules Testifies.

Noah set a BLT in front of his daughter, but Jules couldn't fathom eating after the night she had just had. She couldn't shut her eyes without seeing those creatures emerge from the dark. And she couldn't stop thinking about Stiles' hand in her hair or the stab in her heart when he had left.

Jules checked her phone under the table while her mother read from day planner. She explained when exactly they were eating dinner and what Jules would like from the menu. She had no new messages and nothing to stare at except her own forlorn reflection.

Jules had heard that things always felt different the next morning. She hadn't really understood what that meant until Stiles wasn't giving her an explanation or even a hello. Jules could hardly wrap her head around how selfish she was being. Stiles was clearly having some kind of problem and the biggest thing on her mind was whether or not he cared that he'd just left her at a party alone.

Jules wondered if caring was meant to make her selfish, or if she just wasn't used to caring about how she was treated.

She leaned her elbows on the table and rubbed her eyes.

"Jules?" Her mother asked, finally earning her attention. "Are you alright?"

Jules levelled her gaze with her mother's; it was hard and cold in the warm morning light. "Yes I'm stellar." She deadpanned and took a vicious bite out of her sandwich out of spite.

Charlotte sighed and shut her planner, "It's a lot for one morning." She said softly. "I'll drive you to school."

Jules didn't have the energy to argue, that morning she didn't have it in her to feel much at all.

Charlotte drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, sick with herself and sick with the silence in the car. She felt ill with apologies that she needed to make and words that swelled and burned inside her chest but she didn't know how to use. Charlotte was articulate with facts and clumsy with emotion. She knew that, and often it bite her in the ass.

"Jules." She said in a voice much harder than she'd intended. "You know I love you, don't you?"

All her daughter did was stare straight ahead and shrug, "It wouldn't kill you to act like it." She said coldly.

Charlotte felt like shed been punched in the stomach, but she deserved that. "I know how I can be." She said, fighting to keep her voice clear. "And I know what you must think I think of you, but-" Her voice cracked so she pulled over, feeling her hands begin to shake.

Jules was staring at her, eyes wide. Charlotte knew that until that moment Jules had never seen her cry. She made a point to look at her daughter, to meet her in the eye.

"A lot went wrong in your investigation and I had a lot of time to be angry at the wrong people." Charlotte chocked out, "And sometimes that meant you." She said. Her voice was just audible with the admission. "And for that I'm sorry."

Charlotte could have sworn Jules didn't react, could she really be that impenetrable?

"Okay." Jules huffed, she looked like she might say something else but she turned back to face the road.

Charlotte nodded and wiped her eyes; she took a calming breath and began driving again. There was still a weight on her chest and she knew what it was, but it was a secret for another day.

Charlotte's eyes flicked to her daughter, Jules was silent and unwavering. Charlotte doubted there was anything she could hide from her, but damn it if she wouldn't try.

Scott watched Jules stare blankly at the inside of her locker; she looked exhausted, almost as bad as Stiles. With some reluctance he walked up to her, worry building in his chest, his concern for everyone felt like fluid in his lungs. Sometimes it made it hard to breath.

"Jules?" he said, getting her attention. "Can we talk?"

Her eyes flicked to Ethan and Aiden where they stood, flanking Scott. "With or without them?"

"Without them." Scott assured.

Jules sighed and meandered into a nearby classroom, Scott followed her, his heart pounding.

"This is about the demon things right?" She asked, sitting on a desk, seeming disinterested.

Scott nodded, realizing he didn't want to bother her with any of it. What good would it do? But he went forward because she would want to know.

"Chris has seen them before. He told us that they can look into you. They'll check anyone with a connection to the supernatural." He said, holding a steady gaze on Jules.

She sighed, "So that's banshees, werewolves and me." She said flatly. "For some reason?" Jules furrowed her brow, as confused as the rest of them.

Scott nodded, unsure of what to say next. Jules heartbeat picked up and Scott knew he needed to think of something.

"I'm not hiding anything." Jules said, the words stumbling from her mouth. "If that's what you want to ask I don't know why-"

"No." Scott said quickly. "I didn't think you were its just…" He trailed off thinking of Stiles and how he thinks he was helping Barrow and how Jules was the one who held him down. She was the one with a supernatural connection to Stiles.

"It's just what?" Jules pressed, brow quirked, looking expectant.

Scott looked at her, studying her expression. She looked guileless, she never looked like that. Juliet Hayes didn't look approachable or open with him; she was hardly either of those things. Not naturally.

"Nothing." Scott said uneasily. "I'm worried about Stiles."

Jules furrowed her brow, "Yeah. Me too." She said in a low voice, "I don't know what it is but…" She stopped and shrugged herself again.

Scott couldn't tell her what Stiles had told him but he had a feeling that Jules knew more than she was letting on, or at least felt more. Scott didn't believe for a second that Jules didn't have a theory; he just wasn't sure he wanted it.

The bell rang, reminding them both that they had lives to get to. Without another word Jules slipped passed Scott and into the bustling hallway, Scott sighed. He hated the feeling that everything was spiraling out of the little control he had.

Stiles fumbled with the key to his car, his hands shaking. He couldn't remember the last time his hands weren't shaking.

"Stiles?" A clear and familiar voice cut across the parking lot, "What are you doing?"

He looked up to see Jules walking towards him, not looking nearly as tired as she should have. Guilt pricked in his chest as he saw her and he wanted so badly so explain the night before, but he couldn't do it. He wanted to at least pretend that they were fine, out of everything going wrong, they were fine even if they weren't.

"Uh, nothing." He said unconvincingly. "Why aren't you in class?"

Jules leaned against the jeep; there was some paint in her hair from the night before. Stiles could still feel the strands of it between his fingers, the slam of her heart against his.

"Why aren't you in class?" She rebutted.

"I asked first." Stiles said. His voice was weak.

Jules studied him, and Stiles felt small under her gaze. There wasn't a lot he could hide from her when he felt as awful as he did. His guard was down and he knew that she could tell. He knew he should tell her.

"I'm skipping. I have somewhere better to be." She said softly.

Stiles looked at his keys, fidgeting with them instead of meeting her eyes. "Do you remember the key from last night? The one that glowed?" He glanced at her worried expression.

Jules nodded, "Why?"

Stiles brought his head up to meet her eyes, "It was for the chemistry closet, the one Barrow hid in." He told her, searching her face for a reaction, but she was stoic, looking at him to go on. "And I can't prove it because it's gone." He said, fighting to keep his voice steady.

"Okay." Jules said in a still voice. "And I'm assuming you don't remember getting rid of it."

Stiles nodded, his heart hammered. "And the atomic numbers? I wrote them. I don't remember writing them but I know I did, it was my writing but when I went to show Sc-"

"Stiles." She cut him off in a hard voice. "Are you trying to tell me you think you tried to kill Kira?"

Stiles clenched his hand around the key, "Are you trying to tell me you haven't felt anything wrong?" He asked cautiously, terrified of her answer.

Tell me you're not sure you're sane either.

Jules unfolded his hand from around his keys, her touch was alive. "Stiles." She said steadily. "You're sleep deprived. That's gonna cause all kinds of issues, one of them being delusions."

Stiles glowered at her, "I'm not delusional." He protested.

She raised her eyebrows, "So you're a murderer then?" She asked him in disbelief.

"I don't know." Stiles said honestly. "But it doesn't make sense that-"

"No it doesn't make sense." Jules cut him off in a soft voice and took his keys from his hand. "But you need sleep and you know that. Were you going home?"

Stiles stared at her, "I don't let people drive my car." He said flatly.

Jules opened the driver's seat door, "I don't let people drive when they might fall asleep at the wheel."

With a great reluctance Stiles walked around to the passenger side. He wondered whether or not she had a driver's license but he didn't want to ask. She had driven out to him on the night of the eclipse, so she wasn't incompetent. He climbed into a seat in his car that was unfamiliar to him and watched her clip on her seatbelt like she belonged there. Maybe she did.

"Home?" She asked again, adjusting the seat and the mirrors.

Stiles didn't have the energy to be annoyed he'd have to change everything back.

"No." He said. "The hospital." He didn't meet her eyes when she looked at him.

"Okay." She said as she started the car.

Stiles watched as they pulled away from the school, "Where do you have to be that's better?" He asked remembering that she was on her way out when she'd found him.

Jules's hands clenched around the steering wheel, it was subtle. Stiles knew that if he hadn't been paying what might have been a creepy amount of attention to her he wouldn't have noticed.

"Not better." She said, "Just more important."

Stiles nodded, noticing that her bike helmet was sitting with her backpack behind them. "So you're biking there?"

"Shit." She muttered, but it didn't sound like she cared all that much.

Stiles watched as Jules rested one arm in the open window and sat comfortably behind the wheel of his car.

"Borrow the jeep." He said quietly, wary of her answer though he wasn't sure if it would bother him more if she said yes or no.

Jules's eyes flicked to him, bright and dark at the same time. "Are you kidding? You love this car more than yourself."

Stiles let a smile ghost his face.

I don't know how much that says.

"Just be careful." He warned.

"Well my plans could involve a car chase, what's the horsepower on this thing?" She said in a voice so deadpan Stiles couldn't decipher if she was joking.

"No." He said. "None of that." Stiles shot down.

Jules just shot him a half smile response and they lapsed into silence, headed closer and closer to the hospital. Stiles didn't understand why she hadn't asked him why. He was sure that there were few things Jules encountered that she didn't question.

Stiles studied her expression, or her lack thereof. Sometimes he just wanted to ask, to let questions poor out of him. How did she survive? What did she think of him? What did she feel? How did she look at him and decide that she wanted him? At what point did she choose him? Because Stiles was certain there was no other way. Jules didn't fall or stumble into things, not the way that he had fallen into her.

He looked away from her, finding it strange that she hadn't always been there beside him, matching him move for move. Jules had existed for Stiles for a lot less time than it seemed, then he felt. Stiles shut his eyes, trying to handle how tried he was. But even with Jules beside him, looking out for him, he knew sleep wouldn't come. Something was wrong with him, and for a moment when he was looking at her, Stiles had forgotten. Why couldn't it be that way all the time?

Anxiety built in Jules's stomach as she sat behind the wheel of Stiles's car. She hadn't wanted to leave him at the hospital; she hadn't wanted to be responsible for his jeep. But she did and she was. Now Jules was sat in the parking lot of Eichen Sanitarium trying to muster up enough courage to even walk to the front gate.

You're not a patient and you're not in danger of becoming one. You can just go in. You can just go visit someone. You're allowed.

Jules didn't move. She knew she had to, but she didn't. In fact she was very compelled just to drive, fast and aimlessly in the direction away from Beacon Hills. But she knew she couldn't. She was needed there, her parents might both drop dead if Jules disappeared again and she wasn't in a car she could steal with a clean conscious.

If Jules were being honest she would admit to feeling like she was in limbo. She was stuck in a place of in between, one thing to another. She remembered Kira's hast explanation of Bardo. And she wondered if it was possible that they were all feeling something like it somehow. Jules was restless and out of touch, waiting for something, but she didn't know what.

This solidified her resolve, she needed to do something and she needed to do it now.

Jules got out of the jeep, sure to lock it behind her.

The Sanitarium seemed far more daunting from the outside. It appeared to rise up above her as she approached the gate and shakily pressed the buzzer.

"I'm Juliet Hayes; I'm here to visit someone. I made a call." She said in as unassuming of a voice as she could muster.

The gate opened without a word from reception.

You can still walk away. Just turn around.

Jules took a breath and stepped inside, the gate shutting behind her. Her stomach flipped.

Okay, this is a done deal then.

Malia Tate stared blankly at the girl in front of her.

"You wanted to talk to me?" She asked; still not understanding why she was here. "About what?"

Jules, a friend of Scott's, buried her face in her hands. "Malia, for the third time, you." She said, exasperated. "Just… how are you doing?"

Malia frowned, brow furrowed and unable to detect what Jules wanted. Was she genuinely asking how she was doing?

"I wish I was still a coyote." Malia said flatly, her arms folded over her chest.

Jules nodded, "That's fair." She said.

Malia's heart lurched and she cocked her head, "What?"

Malia hadn't thought she would accept that. Who would accept that? Wasn't she supposed to be grateful? Malia knew she was supposed to be happy to be in her human skin, but she wasn't. It was foreign and vulnerable and she felt things that she had never before, that she had never wanted to. Coyotes don't feel guilt for killing half their family. Humans do.

"I get it." Jules said steadily, not taking her eyes off of Malia's.

Malia looked away, coyotes didn't make eye contact, not unless they were about to try and kill you. Malia wasn't entirely convinced humans weren't the same way.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Malia asked, staring at a scar running along Jules's collar bone.

"Change is hard." Jules said in a low voice. "No matter what you're leaving behind you're leaving something behind. Even if it was bad."

Malia was about to tell her that being a coyote wasn't bad, but she got the sense that Jules wasn't talking about her.

"What do you miss?" Malia asked boldly, ignoring how anxious Jules was, how angry. She was putting on an excellent show of being neither.

"I don't miss anything." She said harshly. "It's just hard to realize that you have a future." Her voice dropped.

Malia narrowed her eyes, "Is that why you're here? To talk about what happens to me when I get out?" She growled.

"No." Jules leaned forward, "I wanted to talk to you."

Malia glowered at her, her heart pounding with aggression. She didn't understand why, they had never met before. What could they have in common? What did she want?

"Why?"

Jules let out a deflated sounding sigh, "Because I have a loose understanding of what you've gone through."

Malia raised her eyebrows, "Really?" She asked incredulously. If Malia were being honest with herself she would have admitted she wanted to see if all that rage could come to the surface. That was something Malia understood, that she could challenge, anger. Whatever Jules was doing, whatever genuine reason she had, Malia didn't understand.

"Yes." Jules pressed. "I know what it's like to be in this place." She gestured around the stark visitation room. "And I know what it's like to wake up and suddenly realize that you have a life."

Jules's voice was guileless. Enough that Malia wanted to believe her. But she didn't know what to say to that.

Jules sighed and leaned back into the chair, finally bringing her eyes away from Malia. Malia knew that Jules was right. It wasn't easy to be told that she was being prepped for high school and that her father loved her and to look in the mirror and see a person. That was terrifying.

Malia studied Jules while she focused on her hands. She looked exhausted. It was the kind of tired that Malia had noticed on patients who had been here far too long and on the nurses who struggled to bring themselves to care.

"So you just came here to talk to me." Malia said cautiously.

Jules rubbed her eyes, "Yeah. There aren't a lot of people who understand what it feels like. To be gone and back and then all of a sudden you have this future that you didn't expect." Her voice was quiet, verging on breaking.

"Nobody asks you if you want it." Malia said sourly.

Jules brought her gaze back to her and this time Malia didn't feel compelled to look away, "No they don't."

Malia watched Jules brush her hair of her face and adjust the sleeve on her jacket. She looked like a person; she seemed more real than any of the people Malia had met in Eichen house.

"How do you do it? Out there?" Malia asked so quietly she wasn't even sure that Jules could hear her.

Jules huffed, "I don't know." She said honestly. "Well, sometimes I know. Sometimes it's just about letting life happen to you and dealing with it." Her voice was rough was an emotion hat Malia wasn't familiar enough with to identify.

"And other times?" She pressed.

Jules looked down at the floor, "Other times I don't want life to happen to me, other times I want to actually live it."

Malia furrowed her brow, "And how do you do that?"

Malia's heart was pounding with the first real human conversation she'd ever had.

Jules shrugged, "I have no idea."

Malia nodded and continued to watch the girl across from her. She couldn't blame her; the real world seemed terrifying and Malia wasn't sure if she wanted any part of it. And frankly, it didn't seem like Jules was either.

Author Note: I am so sorry for the slow update and then the short chapter but right now I'm just trying to get back into a routine with school and like life. So oops. But anyways I hope you enjoyed and believe it or not the end of 3b is kind of in sight so at this point some of you might be wondering what my plan is for after that. And as much as I love writing this story, I have my reservations about writing season 4 and 5, mostly because I don't like them. But even if I choose not to continue this into those seasons I won't say I'm done writing Jules. But anyways, I also have some projects similar to this that I would like some more time to work so that I can get to sharing them with like the internet or whatever. But thank you guys so much for your continued support I never imagined that like more then maybe 4 people would take interest in this so I thank you guys so much J