Thank you so much for the reviews on the last chapter! I've played around a bit with the twin's history for this chapter - we never really did learn a whole lot about them, so I figured that's only fair.
Chapter 29
The morning dawned dark and dismal, the sun's rising going almost unnoticed behind the thick curtain of cloud that hung from the sky like a bad omen. Beacon Hills slugged its way into wakefulness with a careful trepidation - and plenty of umbrellas. Beyond the town, the Preserve was alive with its usual morning twitters, and calls, and rustling sounds as its daytime inhabitants woke up and went off in search of food.
Deep within the Preserve, the Nemeton woke in a quieter, much more subtle way. Not that the Nemeton truly ever slept; it was always aware, but like all trees, its altar rested during the night. It felt the charge in the air from the approaching storm, the heaviness of the dark clouds that hung above its crown. But it had withstood hundreds of such storms; it would withstand another.
Without warning, the air within the Nemeton shifted, changed. The heaviness lifted, though there was no one there to feel it. Had anyone been there, they would've also seen the creature that walked out as though from thin air from behind the altar tree. Its coat gleamed white even without sunlight to illuminate it and its steps were silent. It strolled, unhurried towards the edge of the sacred soil and paused, raising its nose to sniff at the air before lowering it again and munching at a clump of bright green grass. A few minutes passed and then it snorted before trotting unhurriedly out of the Nemeton, its horn sliding against the leaves of low-hanging branches as it passed.
They'd gathered outside on the bleachers for lunch, deciding to brave their chances with the dark, ominous clouds. Lydia gave them a stern look before sitting down next to Aiden and digging a strawberry yogurt and a spoon out of her bag. Stiles smirked at that before bounding up to take a seat two tiers above them. Scott and Isaac were sitting on opposite ends, having been at odds since yesterday and refusing to tell anyone what had happened, but exchanging regular glares (even if Isaac's looked a bit more apologetic than angry). Stiles sighed, already planning the best way to corner Scott after school to get the story out of him.
He had his theories about what was going on. The way Allison bypassed both of them after an awkward glance and went to sit down next to Danny and Ethan only strengthened them.
Stiles reached into his own bag and dug out the sandwich his dad had made him this morning (it'd been years since his dad had done that, so Stiles was determined to quietly savour every bite). Even if the kale he could see peeking out from beneath the whole wheat bread was probably a minor form of revenge.
"So Stiles," Lydia said, turning to the side to face him. "Did you find anything yesterday?"
Stiles thought about it. "I think so. Maybe."
Lydia raised an eyebrow. Stiles shrugged. "It was sort of three am by the time I finished so I'm not really sure I was coherent enough for profound revelations."
Lydia nodded. "I get it. I have a bunch of notes, but I'll have to go through them again to see if there's anything I can use. Nothing really stood out to me and I'm still not entirely convinced that Merlin didn't use Mesopotamia as an example completely at random."
Stiles made a face. "I wouldn't entirely be surprised except... why Mesopotamia? I mean, it's way before Merlin's time and not even from the same continent. The Vikings would've made way more sense, or the Celts."
"And then he specifically mentioned the city of Uruk."
"Exactly."
"You don't suppose he's just having a laugh by sending you on a wild goose chase?" Aiden asked, glancing over his shoulder at them.
Stiles immediately shook his head. "No, I don't think that's really his style."
"Hm, I agree," said Lydia. "If he didn't want us to figure this out, he wouldn't have given us any clues at all."
"Yeah."
"So, what did you think you may have figured out?"
Stiles made a face. "Uh, well, I sort of got distracted-"
Aiden snorted. "Now there's a surprise," he muttered under his breath.
"Aiden, shut up," Lydia snapped at him.
Stiles cleared his throat. "Anyway, I found a reference to the Epic of Gilgamesh, which – apart from apparently being the oldest piece of literature ever – talks about Gilgamesh, King of Uruk. Which, you know, seemed sort of relevant. Also, it looked way less boring than the rest of the stuff I was looking at." He paused, feeling slightly embarrassed. "So, I sort of skimmed through it."
"And?"
"And there's this bit at the end where Gilgamesh has just returned to the city after having been on an epic quest for immortality and he sees it for the first time in, like, a really long time. He points to the stone walls of the city and sort of shows them off to the boatman. It's like this moment of truth, when he realizes that they're the meaning of his life, his immortality. That so long as they remain standing, then he will be remembered forever."
"Hmm..." Lydia looked thoughtful for a moment. "But it's not just the stone walls and the city that've made him immortal, is it? If the story hadn't survived then they would've just been stone walls. That would've made the city immortal, not him."
Stiles thought about that and nodded. "That's where words are important, I guess."
Lydia's eyes widened as Stiles realized what he'd just said. Their eyes met.
"Okay, that doesn't look good," said Isaac, interrupting their train of thought. "Were you expecting your dad, Scott?"
"Nope, I really wasn't."
Stiles and Lydia both turned to look back towards the school. Sure enough, Scott's dad was walking casually towards them wearing a black suit and dark sunglasses. Walking two steps behind him were four other agents, wearing almost identical black suits and sunglasses.
"Okay, confession time guys," Stiles tried to joke, "who here's an illegal alien?"
Danny dutifully turned to the rest of them and says with a straight face: "I'm sorry guys, I always meant to tell you: I'm actually from a planet called Raxacoricofallapatorius... I may have, uh, accidentally let my visa expire..."
Beside him, Ethan snickered.
Scott stood and waited for his dad to get close enough to speak without yelling. "Hi dad, is everything alright?"
Agent McCall's head turned briefly to his son. "Hello, Scott. Sorry, but I'm here on official business." Then he took off his glasses and tucked them into the side pocket of his suit jacket while slipping his badge out. He held it up so that they could all get a good look at it.
Stiles swallowed, his insides fluttering with anxiety. Scott's father had a lot of faults, his distinct lack of a sense of humour among them. The agents with him flashed their own badges and Stiles might've forgotten to breath for several, long moments.
"In case any of you missed it before, I'm Agent Rafe McCall, FBI. Aiden and Ethan Jones, if you could please come with us." The twins stiffened.
"Dad?!" Scott exclaimed. "What's going on?"
"Are we under arrest?" Aiden demanded with a snarl.
McCall waited precisely two beats before answering. "Not yet."
"Then what is this about?" Lydia demanded, her arm wrapped protectively around her boyfriend's waist.
Agent McCall looked over the group with cold, searching eyes before looking back to Aiden and then Ethan. "We have some questions regarding some of your previous residences. Specifically Salt Lake City, Detroit and Sacramento."
Stiles didn't miss the way Ethan paled and he was certain the FBI agents hadn't either. He looked back to meet Aiden's eyes. Stiles couldn't see the look on Aiden's face, but he could see him trembling with anger. After a few moments, he took a deep breath and nodded to Ethan.
Then they picked up their bags and followed Scott's dad, the other FBI agents flanking them from the sides and back.
Danny took a shaky breath and ran a hand through his hair. "So, about how much trouble are they likely to be in?" he whispered.
"Probably a lot," Stiles answered him, too shocked to sugar-coat anything.
"Damn."
The sheriff had been sitting at his desk for about half an hour in anticipation of the call. His son was generally predictable that way. When it finally rang, he glanced at the call display, took a deep breath and answered.
"Hello Stiles."
"Dad, what the hell's going on? The FBI was just here and they took Ethan and Aiden away."
"I know. Rafe told me about it this morning."
"And you didn't think to - oh I don't know – warn us?!"
"If I'd warned you and they skipped town then I would've looked suspicious." He paused. "Stiles, the FBI has them in the vicinity of nearly half a dozen murders across the country."
He heard his son's sharp intake of breath. "That sounds like circumstantial evidence." Then he added in a small voice. "And they were being pushed on by Ducalion."
"But they still joined him."
"Come on, dad, can't you just-"
"Stiles, this is an official FBI investigation. There's very little I can say about it. I'm sorry, I know they're a part of his pack, but the law is clear on this one. If they've got a case for self-defence or coercion, then they'll have the chance to present it. Otherwise, murder is murder even if they're werewolves."
"Yeah... you're right. It's just that Lydia and Danny are both freaking out and..."
The sheriff smiled sadly. "And you're trying to be a good friend. Look, the twins are in interrogation now, but maybe by the time school's done they might be able to take visitors."
"So do you think they'll be put under arrest now?"
"With what the FBI have? Unless they do some incredibly good verbal maneuvering, then definitely yes."
"Will they be able to make bail?"
"Doubt it. Too much of a flight risk."
"Okay, I-I'll tell the others. Thanks dad."
"You're welcome, Stiles."
Ethan looked up as the door to the interrogation room opened. Scott's father walked in and then sat down into the chair opposite him. He and Aiden had been separated as soon as they'd arrived at the precinct and put into separate rooms. For now, he'd play it by ear and hope no one said anything to piss his brother off too much. With any luck, the FBI didn't have anything substantial on them. He liked Beacon Hills and, for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, he had people he could consider family, the way a pack should be.
And he had Danny.
"Hello Ethan," McCall said as he carefully arranged several file folders onto the table in front of him. "Your brother's been telling me some interesting things, so I decided to come and get your side."
Ethan suppressed a smirk. The man was lying. If this was all they had, it was going to be a cakewalk.
McCall opened the first of the folders and began laying a collection of photos in front of him. Ethan's eyes widened. He recognized the bodies lying sprawled out on the ground, broken and twisted, drenched in their own blood from the deep claw marks rendered into their flesh. Crime scene photos: he hadn't realized there'd been an investigation. He should have.
"Do you recognize these people?"
Ethan swallowed. "They're- they were my former... group."
"Hmm. By all accounts, nasty pieces of work, all of them. Detroit City Police didn't really try too hard to find their killer. Chalked it up to gang violence. Of course, they hadn't realized anyone had survived the massacre."
"We got lucky," said Ethan quietly. Very lucky indeed. At the time Ducalion had seemed like a saviour, come to rescue them from the monsters they called their pack. After only a few months with Scott and his pack, he realized Ducalion hadn't really been much better.
"I'm sure you did."
The silence stretched in the room while Ethan stared at the photos. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked back up, meeting the FBI agent's eyes. "Why are you showing me these?" he asked.
Agent McCall's eyes were blank, emotionless. "What do you know about a man named Ducalion Gray?"
Ethan's blood ran cold.
As soon as the final school bell rang, Lydia and Danny rushed out towards their cars and drove off to the sheriff's office. By unspoken agreement, the rest of the pack followed Scott to his house. They were a somber group as they slumped into the couches in the living room, still in shock from what had happened several hours ago.
"So, are we going to do anything about Ethan and Aiden?" Isaac finally asked.
"We-we have to," said Scott, sounding unsure of himself. "They're pack."
"Yeah, but this isn't a group of hunters," Stiles pointed out. "This is the FBI. And it's not that they're being framed for anything. They have killed people."
"How did the FBI find out about them?" Isaac asked with a frown.
Stiles shrugged. "'Cause they're not stupid and Ducalion was probably paying more attention to being a clich supervillain than covering his tracks properly. And now they've finally stayed in one place long enough for law enforcement to catch up to them. I don't know: maybe some hunters tipped them off."
Beside him, Allison shook her head. "No, they wouldn't. Hunters don't exactly operate within the strictest parameters of the law, so drawing the attention of the FBI would be counter-productive. They would've taken care of the problem themselves."
"You mean killed them," said Isaac with a growl in his voice.
Allison stiffened. Her eyes narrowed and she jutted her chin out. "Yes."
"Okay, so we know it's not hunters," said Scott loudly. "Maybe Stiles is right and the FBI just followed a trail of bodies that led them to Ethan and Aiden. It's not impossible; they can't hold them without evidence after all."
"Well, not for very long anyway," Stiles added. "I mean, if you noticed, your dad didn't actually arrest them right away, just took them in for questioning. My dad thinks they'll probably end up being arrested for real, but it does mean the FBI needed a little bit more than what they had."
"Although, he sure brought a lot of back-up for two kids," said Allison thoughtfully.
"Not really," said Stiles. "Don't forget that any bodies they left behind would've been violently slashed up and torn apart. Plus, he'd have every reason to believe he's potentially dealing with a couple of serial killers."
Silence stretched between them for several minutes as they all absorbed the situation. Finally, Scott threw himself out of his armchair with a huff and began to pace the room. His jacket rustled slightly as he moved - he hadn't even bothered to take it off when he'd come in. Isaac watched him attentively, while Stiles rubbed his hands over his face and steeled himself for what he knew was coming.
"We have to do something!" Scott finally exclaimed into the silence. He turned to Stiles. "Stiles, call your dad and-"
"No."
Scott froze mid-word, surprised. "What?"
Stiles sighed. "No, I'm not going to ask my dad to go behind the FBI's back and get them out. That's a criminal offence and he's the sheriff. The station's gotta be crawling with FBI and he'd probably get caught and lose his job and possibly even end up in jail. Not that he'd do it anyway, but he'd be majorly pissed that I'd even ask."
"You've broken the law before, broke into the sheriff's office to steal that van!"
Stiles stared at Scott incredulously. "Uh, yeah, 'cause Jackson was turning into a fucking monster and killing people and didn't even know he was doing it! We were trying to save people!"
"This is about saving people! Two of your friends are in trouble Stiles!"
Stiles stood, feeling anger buzzing around the outsides of his brain. "Scott, you may have forgiven them the whole trying to kill us in the hospital thing and, you know, Boyd, but we know for a fact that, if nothing else, they killed their old pack. And, yeah okay, maybe they deserved it, but it's still murder. This is the law we're dealing with. Like the actual law, not just some moral code or something. Or are you trying to say that the law doesn't apply to werewolves?!"
"No, of course not. It's just..." Scott looked around the room helplessly. "They're pack."
Stiles wondered if being a werewolf and an alpha meant that Scott felt something more towards Ethan and Aiden than just simple friendship. He certainly hadn't thought the alpha wolf felt this strongly towards the twins. Maybe it was some sort of instinct to protect?
The doorbell rang. Isaac sniffed the air and cocked his head. "It's Derek."
Allison got up and went to answer the door. Moments later, Derek, Cora and Peter shuffled into the living room.
"Hey guys, come to join the party?" said Stiles.
Derek grunted and then looked to Scott. "The sheriff called and told me what happened. Asked me to come make sure you didn't do anything stupid."
Scott glared at him. "So you're saying you don't think we should rescue them either?" he growled at Derek.
Cora crossed her arms over her chest and snorted. "Being imprisoned is the least of what they deserve. You should've torn their throats open when you had the chance."
Scott's eyes bled red as his growl echoed throughout the living room. Cora cowered slightly, as if instinctively, before her eyes flashed with anger and she growled back.
"Far be it for me to argue with my niece's bloodthirsty tendencies," Peter's voice flowed through the tension. "But you're aware that they could easily escape if they wanted to? They're werewolves, after all, and alphas at that."
The growling stopped. Scott's eyes were still red, but he looked thoughtful.
"You think they're waiting 'till night when there's not as many people around?" Isaac asked.
Peter shrugged. "Or they could've decided to bargain with the FBI: freedom in exchange for leading them to Ducalion."
Scott snorted. "That's the sort of thing you would do, you mean."
Peter grinned unashamedly. "Naturally."
"Do you even know what the FBI has on Ethan and Aiden?" Derek asked.
Scott slumped. "No."
"Maybe Lydia and Danny will have more information when they get back from the station," Allison suggested.
Scott nodded, resigned. "Fine. If they don't get anything useful, then Isaac and I will go keep an eye on the sheriff's station and see if we can overhear something."
"I'll go with you," said Derek.
Stiles let out the breath he'd been holding.
Danny was having trouble sleeping. In fact, he was beginning to wonder why he was deluding himself into thinking he was going to actually get any sleep at all. He'd even turned in early. Though that was more to get away from his mom's horrified sympathy – she'd actually really liked Ethan, so the revelation that he was possibly a murderer had shaken her.
It had shaken him and he'd sort of known Ethan had killed people. He just hadn't thought about it.
He and Lydia had waited hours at the station before they'd finally been able to see the twins, who were being kept in separate cells. Seeing the werewolf behind bars... Ethan's past had suddenly become real to him. He wasn't sure that anything he'd said had made sense, the ringing in his ears jumbling his thoughts sort of like a bottle of vodka would. Possibly shattered over his head.
Danny shivered and then threw his covers aside to go close the window. He glanced at his alarm clock as he sat up. Exactly fifteen minutes had passed since he'd gotten up to open it because the room was feeling stuffy and too hot.
He decided to leave it open a crack.
He got into bed and pulled the covers over his head with a sigh. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. He turned over onto his side and tried to relax, imagine himself in a nice, relaxing garden with birdsong and trickling fountains. He even tried counting sheep.
All of a sudden, he heard a noise. He froze. The next noise that came was unmistakable: the sound of his window slowly sliding open. Danny could hear his heart pounding loudly in ears, but he tried to ignore it, to listen to the sounds coming from his window.
"Danny?" he heard a whisper.
He threw the covers off and ran to the window. "Ethan!" he whispered harshly into the werewolf's shoulder as he embraced him tightly. If Ethan was here, then that meant he and Aiden had escaped. Which meant...
Arms came around him and squeezed back just as tightly. He heard a soft sob as Ethan buried his nose into the crook of his neck. Danny closed his eyes and savoured the moment, melted into the steady burning heat coming off his boyfriend. He didn't know how long they stood there, bathed in light from the half-moon that peeked out from behind a leftover mass clouds. The storm that had been threatening them all day never happened, the thick humidity and heavy clouds had sailed by peacefully and disappeared over the horizon while he'd been waiting inside the station.
Danny wished it was storming. It would've been fitting.
Eventually, Ethan sighed and stepped away from him. Danny reluctantly let him go. Ethan's eyes were downcast, though Danny noticed they were rimmed in red that had nothing to do with his inner wolf.
"You're leaving, aren't you?" he whispered.
Ethan finally looked up. "Yes," he answered. "They - the FBI, Scott's father – have too much on us. Maybe that's why he was hanging around Beacon Hills all this time... He knew about Ducalion and Ducalion was smart. Insane, but smart." Ethan took a shaky breath. "Even if we tried to make a deal, we'd still end up doing time and I couldn't ask you to wait for me. And, well, Aiden doesn't want to and I..."
"You can't leave him," Danny finished for him, somehow managing a soft smile. He didn't bother trying to suppress his tears.
Ethan's eyes implored him to understand. "We were all each other had for the longest time. Only other person either of us could rely on."
"Ethan, I get. Honestly, I do. I just... I just wish there was another way."
"Yeah, me too."
Their kiss was passionate, but sweet, subdued. It was good-bye.
It ended and Ethan pulled away. Danny couldn't bear to open his eyes, because he knew when he did, Ethan would be gone. He was right. There was nothing left behind but the tingling on his lips and an open window.
Danny staggered to his bed and slid to the floor next to it. He was fairly certain there were tears streaming down his face, but he couldn't bring himself to care. When had this happened? When exactly had Ethan become so important to him?
His cellphone pinged and he reached for it automatically. The message was from Lydia.
Danny?
Oh, he thought, of course.
You too?
Yeah. Want us to come over?
He thought about it for a moment. Did he want to be alone? No, not really.
Yes.
He frowned as he re-read Lydia's message.
Who's us?
Ice cream?
This message wasn't from Lydia. It was from Stiles. Of course it was. Lydia must've called him.
Mint chip.
There was a long pause and then another message came from Stiles.
They don't have that. Rocky Road?
Danny chuckled.
Perfect.
Okay, so for the record, I hadn't intended this originally: I actually like the twins as characters. But there's something I've been setting up for for a while now and I realized as I wrote the last chapter that this was something that sort of had to happen as a result. And, well, after some deliberation, decided that I just didn't have it in me to deliberately ignore such a huge gaping plothole. This will all become clearer in the next chapter.
Thanks for reading! :)
