If you didn't read my last chapter, go back and read it before you leave! It's a very important author's note.

Enjoy! :)

Sheriff held the door open for us, Stiles leading the way into their house. I looked up at Sheriff's face, subtly giving him the chance to change his mind, and he nodded at the door. "C'mon," He said. "It's late."

I looked down at my shoes as I stepped inside and crossed my arms, lingering near the doorway. Sheriff shut the door and locked it, and I tried not to let that bother me. It's been a long time since I've been inside a locked house. Stiles stood in front of the hall to the kitchen, his hand on the strap of his backpack as he watched his dad and me awkwardly.

Sheriff cleared his throat and stepped past me, his eyes on his son. "So, she can sleep down here tonight... Uh, Stiles, would you go get some fresh blankets from the closet?"

Wordlessly, Stiles shut his mouth and nodded, casting one final glance at me as he turned away to go retrieve the blankets. As he stepped out of the room and left me alone with his dad, I took a cautious step deeper into the entrance and looked over their living room. The couch seemed the most likely candidate for me to spend the night on.

"Look, I, uh…" I scratched anxiously at my nose. "You know you don't have to do this. I'm sure I could find somewhere to go." Lie. That's a boldfaced lie, and we both knew it.

Sheriff nodded and began to take his uniform off, hanging his thick jacket on a coatrack by the door. "It's no trouble at all, really." He took of his belt, gun and all, and started to hang that by the door as well. But then he hesitated and glanced surreptitiously back at me, and I pretended not to notice as he quickly took the gun out of its holster and tucked it in the waistband of his pants, keeping it officially out of my reach. "To be honest with you, leaving you out on the streets would have only kept me up tonight. This way I know you'll have a roof over your head."

"Why do you care so much?" I blurted.

Sheriff raised his eyebrows at me. "It's my job," he tried, settling his hands on his hips.

"No," I frowned. "Your job is to lock the criminals away, not invite them to sleep on your couch."

Sheriff scoffed and glanced away. "Savannah, is that how you think I see you? A criminal?"

I shifted and looked down, suddenly regretting this topic. "Well, I mean—"

"Savannah, you've been through so much." Sheriff took a step forward and rested his hand on the back of the couch. He paused and sighed deeply. "I'm trying to give you a chance, okay?" He watched me and I tried not to shift under his scrutiny. "If I were you, I'd take it."

Finally, I shrugged and ran a hand through my hair. "Uh, well, okay… thanks."

Sheriff seemed surprised to have actually heard me say the word, but before he could comment on it Stiles came back into the room with a folded blanket hanging over his arm. Immediately, Stiles sensed the awkward tension in the room, and he must have heard that thank you. He paused in the doorway and looked between us until his dad took in a sudden breath.

Sheriff made his way towards his son, one hand on his hip, the other waving around as he spoke. "Well, I'm exhausted. I'm gonna go to bed—you two," He pointed to each of us knowingly. "School tomorrow, so get some rest."

Stiles pressed his mouth into a thin line as his dad squeezed past him to go down the hall, but before he disappeared he poked his head back out and pointed at me. "Oh, Savannah, uhh, listen. I get up pretty early to go into work, so if I wake you then I'm sorry. Just try to ignore me."

"I usually do," Stiles muttered, causing Sheriff to smack the back of his head. Stiles winced and turned around to throw his hand up questioningly as his dad disappeared down the hall, and I covered my snicker with my hand. He turned back to scowl broodingly at me, rubbing the back of his head. "It was a joke," He pouted, and went to toss the blanket on the couch.

We stood there awkwardly, both restlessly shifting and trying to find something to say.

"So—" We chorused, and I grunted as Stiles tried to cover it with a nervous laugh.

"Uh," He pointed down the hall. "The shower is just down there, you're welcome to use it."

I perked up. A shower inside an actual house sounded heavenly, but I didn't want to be too eager, so I settled for nodding at him and eyeing the hall longingly. Stiles smirked at me and raised his eyebrows.

"You wanna—" He started, and I quickly nodded and brushed past him to get down the hall, his awkward laugh fading behind me.

When I finished my shower, I stepped back into the living room in my old clothes and continued scrubbing my sopping hair with the blue towel I'd found in their cabinet.

Stiles was in the living room with the television on, a bowl of popcorn on his lap where he had settled on the chair next to the couch. The lights were out and a black and white horror film was playing—and the whole thing was so domestic that it brought me to a halt. I froze, towel in hair, looking over the living room displayed before me.

Stiles must have heard me, or felt my presence, because he sat forward and craned his neck. "Hey," He said when he spotted me, glancing periodically back at the TV. "I—oh, I can go," He started to stand, knocking some popcorn on the floor. "I was just gonna put this on for you and then I saw that this was playing—and I love this movie, but you can't watch a movie like this without popcorn," He shrugged, hand gesturing to the television, and I shrugged with him, a smile playing at my lips as he babbled. "So I made some, and then—I must have gotten sucked in… I didn't forget you were here!" He suddenly declared, pointing directly at my face as if I had accused him of doing just that.

I raised my eyebrows at him and his nose twitched. A moment passed as he literally held his breath and waited for my reaction, and I glanced at the movie and smirked. "Did the little girl attack her parents yet?" I asked, and Stiles deflated in cautious relief as he glanced back at the screen.

"Nope, he just took her to the farmhouse." Stiles turned back to the screen as I went to take the bowl of popcorn from him and sat on the couch.

"So Barbara's about to go crazy," I deduced, and Stiles nodded excitedly as he hopped back on the chair and grabbed the blanket off the floor. "Hey—why are you not asleep yet?"

Stiles barely glanced over at me because the movie apparently sucked him in again. "Adderall," He absently explained, sinking into the chair.

I smirked at him and tried some of the popcorn. I scrunched my nose and looked down at the bowl. It was kind of burnt… Sighing, I took another handful and continued to eat it anyways. "From now on, I'm making the popcorn," I decided. Stiles looked at me in surprise and I pointed down at the bowl. "This is gross."

"Oh yeah?" He squinted his eyes and me and reached for the bowl, but I smacked his hand away. "Hey!"

"Get your own!"

"That is my own!"

"Well, share!"

Stiles threw his hands up and frowned incredulously, wordlessly screaming wtf. "You just said it's disgusting!"

I tugged the bowl closer and drew my feet onto the couch as I shrank further away form him. "I like it," I pouted, and Stiles scoffed and shook his head at me in mild amusement.

He watched me for a few more seconds before grumbling to himself and settling back in his chair. I sighed and continued to eat the popcorn, smirking when Stiles jumped at something on screen. Once I had eaten all the popcorn I wanted, I passed the bowl back to him and lay back on the couch.

Stiles would ask me the occasional question about the movie, or make a passing comment, but other than that we sat and watched in relative silence.

The events of the day took their toll on me. My eyes grew dry and heavy, and it had been so long since I was clean and sitting in a warm, clean house, watching a movie, that I couldn't help but begin to drift off. I fell asleep with the blanket drawn over my shoulders and the armrest under my cheek, Stiles murmuring in the chair beside me.

"Stop here," I said, pointing out the window of Stiles' jeep at a gas station.

"What?" He frowned at me. "No, I don't need gas."

"Well, that's good for you," I dryly remarked, scowling at him. He frowned at me as I narrowed my eyes. "Pull over."

"Why? Scott and Allison are gonna be waiting for us at the library, we need to get there as soon as we can—"

"Stiles, I'm hungry. Don't you want some donuts?" I leaned slightly forward, dropping my voice as I spoke. "Some nice, freshly glazed donuts?"

He sighed and turned the wheel. "Fine—" He relented over my triumphant bellow, shaking his head. "But make it quick!" He'd barely pulled into a parking spot, and I was out of the jeep and swinging the door shut. "Wait!" Stiles called.

"What?" I ducked my head back in and Stiles bit his thumb as he peeked at me.

"Chocolate glaze, if they have it." I started to close the door and he called out again.

"What?"

"If they have some with sprinkles and some without, get the kind without. And if they have the cinnamon twists, pick some of those up for Scott." I sighed and started to close the door again. "Wait! If they have orange juice, would you—"

"Oh my god!" I yanked the door open and pushed my face in his, effectively shutting him up as he ducked out of the way. "I'm not your maid, Stiles! If you want all that, come get it yourself." And with that, I slammed the door shut and marched up to the door.

I heard the jeep shut off and the rusty squeal of the door swinging shut as Stiles scrambled to follow me. "Wait! Wait for me, I'm coming!"

We rolled into the library fifteen minutes later, bickering about what kind of juice is better than orange.

"Grape is too sour. I don't think there is a kind," I finally said. "Orange juice is just the king of juices."

"Cranberry?"

"Oh, my god, no," I sneered, throwing Stiles a completely disgusted look. "What?"

"I don't know," He sighed, shaking his head.

"What's the matter with you?"

"It's the sugar and the Adderall!" He shrugged, shaking his head. "It's making me all hyper and my words got away from me. I didn't know what I was saying until it was too late!"

"Cranberry juice? Stiles? Really?"

"Guys!" Scott called, reaching out from one of the stacks and grabbing Stiles by the elbow. He yanked him roughly and almost caused him to fall over, and it took me a minute to realize where he'd gone. "Where have you been? What took you so long? Why are you together?"

"She stayed at my place last night," Stiles quickly explained, taking a large bite of his chocolate donut.

"Donut?" I asked, holding the bag out to Scott.

Scott blinked between us with a bewildered expression, glancing down at the bag. "Donut?" He frowned, taking the bag between his fingers. "No, I don't—oh, hey, is that cinnamon?"

Stiles elbowed me triumphantly and nodded at Scott as he pulled the cinnamon twist out of the bag with hunger in his eyes.

"Thanks," He said around a mouthful. He plucked Stiles' drink out of his hand and took a swig, ignoring his protests and drawing an amused smirk from me when Stiles all but stomped his foot. Scott made a face and shook his head, handing the drink back to Stiles. "Woulda been better if it was apple juice."

We gasped and I nudged Stiles, "I knew we were forgetting one," I said, and he shook his head with a sigh.

"Shhh—here she is," Scott hoarsely whispered, drawing Stiles and I closer to one of the bookcases.

Stiles picked out a stack of them and gathered them in his arms, creating a small gap so Allison could peek through them from the other side. She passed a little black tablet through to Scott, a PDF of some sort of passage written in Latin displayed on the screen. "Here," she whispered, while still peeking around in paranoia. "It's everything Lydia could translate—trust me, she was confused."

Apparently, her parents are really cracking down on her and Scott. As in, now her mom is in the office watching them on the cameras. I mean, I haven't had parental supervision for a while, but something tells me that's taking things too far. Although, to be fair, Scott is a werewolf, and her parents are hunters.

Boy, they're like modern day Romeo and Juliet.

"Yeah, what'd you tell her?" Scott asked, zooming in on something on the tablet.

Allison sighed, an embarrassed smile playing at her lips as she glanced around. "That… we are a part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures," She scoffed sheepishly, shaking her head, and Scott grinned and ducked his head to hide his snicker.

"I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures," Stiles frowned, glancing between Scott and Allison, and I barked out a laugh and grabbed his shoulder.

"You are so cool," I grinned, as Allison and Scott both pretended not to be laughing. "Seriously? You have to show me that some time."

Stiles looked at all of us like…. Well, like he was the butt of a joke, and he knew it. I snickered again and winked at him, and he sighed and threw Allison a subtle dirty look.

"Does any of this say how we can find out who's controlling him?" Scott asked, drawing our attention back to the PDF of the bestiary.

"Not really," She said as she pulled the strap of her bag further up her shoulder. "But Stiles is right about the murders."

Stiles pumped his fist triumphantly and glanced between us again, as if to silently declare himself redeemed from that small little gaming blunder earlier. I rolled my eyes at him and he frowned when he caught it. Before he could say anything, Allison continued. "It calls the Kanima a weapon of vengeance. There's a story in there about a South American priest who uses the Kanima to execute the murderers in his village," She explained, a look of disgust snarling her nose.

Stiles nodded next to me as if it was the coolest thing he'd ever heard, still smug about being right in the first place, and I rolled my eyes at him again. "Alright, see?" He grinned. "So maybe it's not as bad as we thought it was—"

"—until the bond grew so strong that it killed whoever it wanted to," Allison grumbled, grabbing a book from her shelf.

"All bad, all very, very bad," Stiles flatly amended, frustrated that even when he was right, it was wrong.

"The thing is, the Kanima is supposed to be a werewolf, but it can't until—"

"Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it," Scott finished, reading directly from the translated passage on the tablet.

Stiles glanced at me and shrugged. "Okay, if that means Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy I could've told you that myself."

I gasped and smacked his shoulder, "Crap! That reminds me, I need to go see Ms. Morrell later."

They all paused to give me varying degrees of confused expressions, and Stiles cleared his throat and patted my shoulder. "Okay," He whispered dismissively, and I narrowed my eyes at him as Allison continued whispering. He widened his eyes and me and shrugged innocently.

"—what if it has something to do with his parents?" Allison frowned, and my eyebrows cinched together.

"His real parents?"

"Yeah," She nodded, glancing over at me. Stiles let go of my shoulder and placed his hand on the shelf over my head as she went on. "I mean, does anyone actually know what happened to them?"

"Lydia might." Stiles nodded and all I could smell with him standing so close to me was just waves of laundry detergent. I drew in an annoyed breath and subtly pushed him away as Scott spoke.

"What if she doesn't know anything?" Scott frowned, and I crossed my arms.

"Yeah, what then?" I asked, my voice innocent, but Stiles knew me well enough to detect the childish sneer when he heard it. He fixed me with a disapproving glare as Allison slid her book back onto the shelf.

"Well, Jackson doesn't have a restraining order against me, so I'll just ask him myself."

My eyes flew to her and I snorted before I could stop myself. Stiles winced and Allison threw me a dirty look.

"What?" She challenged, tilting her head at me.

I hesitantly looked at Scott and Stiles before focusing back on her, trying not to snicker. "Are you kidding me? He'll chew you up and spit you out."

"Excuse me?" Allison frowned, shifting on her feet and forgetting to be cautious as she leaned forward. Stiles pushed me back when I tried to take a step forward and shook his head at me.

I drew in a breath as Scott took Allison's hand and whispered at her. Looking up at Stiles, I shrugged an unapologetic shoulder. "What?" I scoffed. "You know I'm right. I mean, how would that conversation even go? However Jackson's parents died, I can tell you this much—there's no way in hell he's going to want to talk to her about it."

Stiles sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, well, hopefully he won't have to."

I smirked in amusement at him. "What, you think Lydia is going to tell you?"

He frowned at me and puffed his chest up. "She might," He said, and I snickered and nodded patronizingly.

"Sure, okay," I winked, and Stiles narrowed his eyes. "She might."

"Okay," Scott interrupted. "As much as I hate to say this, I've gotta go take a make-up test for Mr. Harris. You gonna go talk to Lydia?" He asked, nodding at Stiles.

Stiles nodded, glaring at me from the corner of his eye. "Yeah," He said. "Yep, yes I am. I am going to find out what happened to Jackson's parents."

"Sure you will." I smiled fakely and patted Scott and Stiles' arms. "Welp, I'm off to see a man about a horse."

"What does that even mean?" Stiles said as I stepped around them to exit the library.

I waved my hand over my shoulder as if that answered his question before quickly making my way to the hall.

The route to the guidance office was short. It was only about six doors down, and I was only about three doors away when I was intercepted by the biggest blonde bitch in town.

"Well, well, well," Erica started, like she'd ripped the horrible line straight out of a villain's mouth. "Look who we have here!"

"Ugh," I snarled as I looked her outfit with a disgusted scoff. "Gross. You look especially whorish today. What's the occasion?"

She smiled insincerely at me and took a step forward, tilting her head. "How has it been, playing house with your new pals? You feelin' good since you stabbed your pack in the back and left us for dead the other night?"

"Uh oh," I mockingly pouted, crossing my arms. "Are you still bitter about that?"

"Everyone is still bitter about that," Erica snapped, standing up straight. "I should do everyone a favor and—"

"And what?" I challenged, shaking my head at her. "Do you even think before you open your mouth, or do you just speak and hope that your tits will distract everyone?"

"You know Derek told us to keep an eye on you?" She tried, crossing her arms. "That's right."

"Oh, so, he's up to the same old shit." I blew out a bitter laugh and shrugged past her. "Coulda guessed."

"Just don't forget it! We're watching you!" She called, and I flipped her off as I stomped the rest of the way down the hall.

Review? :)