A/N: Only got 11 reviews, would have liked a lil more but I can't complain. This is part 1 of 2. I already finished writing the next part (AND ITS AWESOME!) So 13 reviews for real this time and I'll update. I'm so excited for you guys to read the next few chapters; I've had these in my head for a while. I think you're gonna love em! Review please!

Chapter Fifty-Two:

The Girl Who Knew Too Much (Part 1)

Chapter Song: Streets of Philadelphia by The Fray

It was almost three in the morning, and instead of being curled up asleep in my bed, I was in Stiles car bundled in my sweatpants and oversized raglan. Stiles, literally, ripped me out of my house and into his car. He basically kidnapped me.

"Remind me again why I needed to tag along on your midnight adventure?" I grumbled.

"We need to find Lydia."

"Werewolf problems can wait till morning. I want to sleep." I whined.

"She ended up somewhere. What if it's a dead body?"

"Why is it always at night? Why not during the middle of the day while we're at school? The Darach has some serious sleeping issues. Well, and other issues."

"Yeah, I think we already knew that." Stiles sighed, pulling his Jeep up next to Scott's bike as we entered the school grounds.

"Where is she?" Stiles called as we got out of the car.

"Over here." Allison urgently replied. Lydia was beside her, a frazzled look on her face. Her alabaster skin was ghostly white and her eyes were dull.

"I better be out here for a good reason. Start explaining." I growled.

"It's the same thing. Same thing as the pool. I got into the car heading somewhere totally different and ended up here. And you told me to call you if you found a dead body." The strawberry blonde sighed.

"You found a dead body?" Stiles exclaimed.

"Not yet."

"What do you mean not yet?" I wondered.

"Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body!" Stiles cried.

"Oh no, I'm not doing that again. You find the dead body for now on." Hey, couldn't blame her. That was definitely something she had to go to therapy for.

"We're not the ones finding the dead body! It's always you! We don't have special weird connections to the dead!" I cried.

"Guys! I found the dead body!" Scott announced loudly. My head snapped to look where his gaze was directed. Hanging over the 'Beacon Hills High School' sign on campus, was the body of the victim. The stone of the sign was covered in the blood of the victim, who was wearing a police uniform. I could see Stiles' expression in the corner of my eye. He knew her. I knew her.

"Tara." Stiles and I whispered.


I walked into school the next day, or should I say later the same day, with police swarming the area like flies. One of their own had fallen at the hands of the Darach. Stiles was devastated. Tara had been a family friend. She had helped Stiles and I with homework when we were bored at the station, she made me coffee just the way I liked it when I was waiting for Stiles to hurry up. The both of us had known her for a while. She had been Sherriff Stilinski's partner for a few years now. Now she was dead.

Hence, I didn't want to be at school.

I didn't want to be in Ms. Blakes class since Derek was keeping up the façade slash friendship with her, and I didn't want to hear anymore about the deaths, and I just didn't want to be here. I passed under a poorly painted sign promoting the concert the school was hosting tonight, honoring the lives of all the fallen teachers and students. If only they knew how they really died. I drearily walked into Ms. Blake's class and took a seat, trying not to take a glance her way. She almost immediately started class the second the bell rang, and she was walking around the room giving her lecture. Please shut up.

"Idioms, analogies, metaphors and similes. All tools the writer uses to tell their story." Ms. Blake droned on. "Lydia, I wasn't aware you had so many hidden talents." She commented to Lydia's drawing. She drew that damn tree in the same class every single day. I thought it was possibly the only thing she could draw. Was drawing a flower that hard? I mean really. I don't even think Lydia's ever been in a forest, what was with this obsession with trees?

"You and every guy I've ever dated." Lydia retorted.

"Agreed to that." I commented.

"Well, that was an idiom, by the way. Katherine, could you give me an example of a metaphor?"

"Cold as ice." I said with a straight face and glared daggers at Ms. Blake. "Just like you." I whispered. Ms. Blake took in a breath and looked away, shaking it off.

"Idioms are something like a secret to the people who know the language or the culture. They're phrases that only make sense if you only know the key words. Like saying jump the gun is meaningful only if you know about the starting gun in a race. Or a phrase like seeing the whole board."

"Chess." Stiles mumbled.

"That's right, Stiles. Do you play?" Ms. Blake praised.

"No, my father does." She smiled to my best friend.

"Now, when does an idiom become a cliché?" Ms. Blake walked back to the front of the class.

"I think I can get to Ethan. And I'm pretty sure I can make him talk." Scott leaned over and told Stiles and I.

"And how would that be since his brother and him are attached at the hip? And the fact that he hates you?" I wondered.

"Wait hold up, why do you want to talk to him?" Stiles wondered.

"The druids are emissaries, right? What if the Darach was an emissary to the Alphas?"

"First of all, I cannot believe that we've gotten to the point where a sentence like 'what if the Darach was an emissary to the alpha's actually makes sense to me. Second of all, we're going to have a huge problem getting to Ethan through Aiden. Ever since he'd been back to school they're always together."

"I'm sure I can find a way to split them up." I smirked, my head turning to Lydia. Scott and Stiles both turned around and stared at her.

"What now?" She sighed.

"You're needed." I grinned.


After catching Ethan alone in a hallway, the four of us were standing next to the stairs as Lydia was distracting Aiden somewhere doing something I didn't want to know about.

"Why are you even talking to me? I helped kill your friend how do you know I'm not going to kill another one." Ethan stared at Stiles.

"Is he looking at me? Are you threatening me? I'm going to break off an extra large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolsbane, roll it in mistletoe, and shove it up your freaking—"

"Okay, we're done here." I clasped my hand over Stiles mouth to prevent him from going any further. "And besides, he could rip your head off because you even got that branch broken off." I realistically said.

"We're talking to you because I know you didn't want to kill Boyd. And I think if something like that happened now you wouldn't do it again."

"Well I think he'd do it again. And again. Oh, and again. Why? Because he's part of the Alpha pack, that's what they do." I said.

"You don't know what we owe them. Especially Deucalion. We weren't like Kali and Ennis when we met them. We weren't Alphas."

"What, you were a Beta? How tragic." I rolled my eyes.

"We were Omegas. In actual wolf packs, Omegas are the scapegoat—the last to eat, the one who has to take the abuse from the rest of the pack."

"So you and your brother were like the bitches of the pack?" Stiles asked. I smiled.

"Something like that."

"So, what happened?" I wondered.

"They were killers. I mean people talk about us as monsters, but they were the ones who gave us the reputation. And our Alpha was the worst of them."

"Why didn't you guys just fight back? Form voltron wolf, you know? Kick everyone's ass'."

"We couldn't! We didn't know how to control it back then!" Ethan cried.

"Let me guess, Deucalion taught you." I realized.

"Yes, and then we fought. We took down a whole pack, one by one. And by the time we got to our Alpha he was begging for his life! And we tore him apart. Literally."

"How poetic." I pursed my lips.

"What about your emissary? They're all dead? Kali and Ennis' too?"

"All of them except for Deucalion."

"You mean Morrell?" I questioned. Before Ethan could answer, he let out a pained gasp. He clutched his chest and clenched his jaw in pain. The three of us eyed each other in concern.

"What, what's wrong? Are you hurt?" Scott wondered.

"Not me. My brother." Oh no. The only person trying to hurt an Alpha would be one of two people: Derek or Cora.

And for some reason, I didn't think Derek was that stupid. But Cora was.


We found ourselves running to the boys locker room. I was going particularly faster then the boys; nervous to see which Hale was fighting the Alpha. Lydia was screaming for Aiden to stop while I could hear metal clanking and bones crushing. I swung myself into the room, finding Cora on the floor in Lydia's care. But I didn't see that for long as I soon found myself staring at a wolfed out Aiden. He tackled me to the ground, his breath hot on my neck. His fangs were bared and snapping at my face.

"What are you doing? Stop!" I screamed. Aiden was ripped off of me at the hands of his brother and Scott. He was restrained.

"You can't do this!" Yelled Ethan.

"She came at me!" The angered alpha pointed to Cora. Stiles came over and kneeled down next to Cora and I.

"Doesn't matter! Kali gave Derek till the next full moon. You can't touch him. Or her. Or her!" Ethan's eyes darted from Cora to me. With one last look at Scott, Ethan pulled his brother away and out of the locker room. Cora was groaning in pain, lying down helplessly on the floor. Her head was bleeding terribly.

"Oh my God, I think she's pretty hurt." Stiles realized, taking her hand in his.

"Come on, Cora." I took her body in mine and lifted her up. She clutched her head. There was no doubt it was probably throbbing. I got her to her wobbly feet and leaned her body so most of the weight was being held up by me. "You need to start healing, come on." I took her over to the sink, Scott and Stiles in tow, and sat her down on the spotted porcelain. I grabbed a paper towel, soaked it under some running water, and began dabbing the blood off her forehead. The female Hale hissed in pain, giving me an 'touch-me-again-and-I'll-kill-you' look.

"I'm trying to help you. Bite me and I'll rip your throat out." I smiled innocently as I continued to clean up her wound. I may not have liked the girl, but she was Derek's sister. He loved her more than he loved anything. I wouldn't let him lose her again. Not after all he's been through.

"You okay?" Scott asked a few minutes later.

"I think we know the answer to that." I mumbled.

"She doesn't look okay." Lydia stated.

"I'll heal." Cora said. She tossed the bloody paper towel into the sink and stumbled back, Scott and Stiles getting her back on balance once more.

"I said I'm fine." She clenched her jaw.

"Do you realize how suicidal-ly crazy that was? What were you thinking going after them?" Stiles asked.

"She wasn't." I imputed.

"I did it for Boyd!" Cora yelled. "None of you were doing anything."

"We're trying." Scott assured.

"And you're failing. You're just a bunch of stupid teenagers running around thinking you can stop people from getting killed. All you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies."

"Listen, Cora." I began. "Are you doing anything? Are you out there trying to stop the sacrifices? Are you the one dealing with a psycho emissary? No, we are. We're the one trying to fix this messed up problem. I'm sorry your friend joined the body count. I really am. But we're trying to stop more people from joining the pile. Because to many already have." Cora glared at me before walking out of the locker room. You're welcome for the help. Really. A thank you would have been nice!

"She's definitely a Hale." Stiles spoke up and broke the silence. "I'll make sure she gets home."

"I've had enough for one day, I'll come with." I followed him out of the locker room.


"Hello?" Stiles put his phone on speaker, answering Allison's call. He was driving the jeep particularly fast, his mission to get Cora back to his place alive. I was in the back seat, jiggling my leg anxiously.

"Stiles. Where are you?" Allison urgently asked.

"Going home. Why, what's up?"

"I-I found something. It's in my dad's office, it's written in the ink you need a special light for. He knows where they all are. He knows where they're going to be taken and going to be found."

"How?" I asked.

"That's not all…he knows the pattern." Allison admitted.

"What?" Stiles and I gasped simultaneously. Cora winced.

"Healers. Warriors. Virgins. Philosphers—"

"Philosophers?" Stiles interrupted.

"And guardians! After last night that has to mean something like law enforcement. Right?"

"Allison, will you text me the pattern?" I asked, repeating it in my head.

"Sure. Stiles, you have to tell your dad. Tell him whatever you need but you have to get him to believe. Tell your dad. Warn him!" Allison pleaded.

"Okay, okay, okay. I know." Stiles sighed, hanging up the phone.

"What are you gonna do?" Cora decided to ask.

"He has to tell him, there's no other choice." I eyed Stiles, who seemed beyond frustrated.

"I'm gonna tell him the truth, and I'm going to need your help. Both of your help." Stiles chewed on his lip. How was he going to explain this one? He's said a lot of stupid things to his dad before, but nothing like this.


Stiles paced his bedroom while Cora and I sat on his bed, trying to avoid the judging glares from Sherriff Stilinski.

"Yes! Okay. No, ugh." Stiles groaned.

"Stiles, form words!" I begged. Stiles was mumbling incoherent things.

"Stiles!" An impatient Sherriff Stilinski finally had it.

"Dad I'm sorry, okay? Just, I'm trying to figure out where to start from here." Stiles fidgeted with the ends of his plaid button-down.

"Hey! I don't have this kind of time."

"That's the point," I sighed, "you don't have time because you're working on the murders." I started. Stiles needed to get the cat out of the bag already…or should I say wolf?

"Okay, for the last year you had all the cases that you couldn't figure out, right? All the murders involving Kate Argent and then Matt killing all the people who had drowned him. And, and all these murders right now…it's like you've been playing a losing game."

"Stiles, the last thing I need right now is a job performance review from my own kid and his friends."

"It's not exactly a review, it's more like a tip." I pursed my lips tightly. Stiles began thinking and rushed over to one of his shelves and grabbed a chessboard.

"See that's it dad. The reason you've been losing the game is because you've never been able to see the whole board." Stiles put the board down on his desk. "We need to show you the whole board." Stiles began setting up the chess pieces with Post-it strips. Derek, Scott, and Peter were all black pieces with pink strips. Chris, Kate, and Allison were all white pieces with purples strips. Jackson was identified with a yellow strip while Deaton had a blue strip. As for me, I had a green strip. This was going to be interesting.

"Last year, during the first murder of the girl that turned out to be Laura Hale, Scott got bit in the woods by an animal when we snuck out."

"You said Scott wasn't there." Sherriff Stilinski argued.

"We lied." I imputed. "Stiles' idea." I defended. Stiles groaned.

"He turned into a werewolf after a few days. We tried to figure out who killed the girl. We thought that Derek Hale killed his own sister since he's also a werewolf but turns out the Alpha did it. The Alpha's Peter Hale, Derek's uncle."

"Psycho Uncle." I added.

"Long story short, we were trying to find out who the Alpha was all at the same time Kate Argent was here and trying to kill Derek because she's a werewolf hunter along with the whole Argent family. Katherine got marked by the Alpha to be bitten next when you found her in the school." Stiles explained.

"The night Peter was planning on biting me Kate Argent kidnapped Derek and I and held us captive in a cellar. It's what hunters do; they're crazy. But when Scott got us out she shot us."

"Deaton healed her because he's some kind of Druid—"

"Whatever that means—" I interrupted.

"And Peter Hale killed Kate Argent because he was killing all those people who started the Hale fire. Then Derek killed Peter. Okay, um next set of murders—"

"Jackson wanted the bite from Derek. He gave it to him but he rejected it. So he turned into a lizard creature thing called a Kanima and was being controlled by Matt, who was making him kill people as revenge for drowning him. Matt died, Gerard Argent killed him, and Gerard controlled Jackson. Blah, blah, blah, more things happened, we defeated Gerard, then Derek and Peter, who came back from the dead by the way, killed Jackson and he came back to life as a werewolf." I clarified.

"And at the same time Peter Hale was controlling Katherine and making her do all this weird crap and made me think she was an Alpha which she isn't but that's done now so they just hate each other. Yeah. Now we've got an Alpha pack running around Beacon Hills and a crazy Darach, which is a Druid that went down the wrong path according to Deaton, running around killing people for sacrifices. And whoever the Darach is was slashed up and left for the dead by wolves." Stiles finished with a heavy breath. Sheriff Stilinski blinked a few times.

"Scott and Derek are werewolves?" He raised his brows.

"Yes." Stiles sighed.

"And Kate Argent was a werewolf?" He wasn't sounding like he believed this.

"Hunter. That's purple…hunters." Stiles played with the Kate Argent chess piece.

"Along with Allison and her father." Cora added.

"There's a big difference." I pursed my lips.

"Yeah. And, and my friend Deaton, the veterinarian, is a Kanima?"

"No, no, no, no, no. He's a Druid. Kay? Well, we think."

"So who's the Kanima?"

"Jackson." I said.

"No, Jackson's a werewolf."

"Jackson was a Kanima first then Peter and Derek killed him and he came back to life as a werewolf. And now he's in London." I explained.

"Since everybody finds it weird he was dead." Stiles pursed his lips.

"I swear I'm not dating a serial killer." I defended.

"So, who's a Da-Rack?"

"Darach." Stiles and I corrected.

"We don't know yet." Cora imputed.

"But he was killed by werewolves."

"Slashed up and left for dead." Stiles corrected.

"We think." Cora reminded.

"And that's what you've missed in Beacon Hills the past year." I attempted to make an innocent smile. Sheriff Stilinski leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"Why was Jackson the Kanima?" He asked.

"Because sometimes the shape that you take reflects the person you are."

"And what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier by the second father take?"

"Uh…that would be more of an expression. Like the one you're currently wearing." Stiles licked his lips.

"Yeah." Sherriff Stilinski got up from the chair and began heading towards the door.

"We're telling the truth!" I cried.

"Dad, dad, dad! I can prove it, okay? She's one of them," he pointed to Cora, "a werewolf!"

"Stiles, Stiles! That's enough!" The Sheriff yelled, having enough of his son's shenanigans.

"Dad can you please just hold on." Stiles pleaded. Sherriff Stilinski sighed.

"Go." I nodded to Cora. She stood up hesitantly.

"Trust us." I looked back to Stiles' dad, my eyes gleaming with hope.

"Alright dad, just watch this. Okay?" All I saw was his dad's eyes enlarge and then I heard a crash on the floor. Sherriff Stilinski ran past Stiles and I, my eyes following him. Cora was on the floor unconscious, the cut on her head bleeding black blood. That wasn't a good sign.

"Call an ambulance." Sherriff Stilinski demanded. I fumbled for the phone in my pocket and immediately dialed 911.

"Nine-one-one what's your emergency?" The operator asked.

"My friend, she's unconscious. I need an ambulance to 321 Oakwood Street." Before I could say anything else, Stiles yanked my wrist and pulled me out of the room, causing me to drop me the phone and it hanging up.

"What the hell?" I growled as Stiles dragged me into the hallway, leaving Sherriff Stilinski to take care of Cora.

"We can't take her to the hospital! She's going to heal and we'll have more questions to answer then who the Kanima was and who the Darach currently is!" Stiles yelled in a hushed tone.

"Stiles, she's bleeding black. That's never a good sign. I'll call Melissa." I shook my head, yanking my wrist away from him. Stiles was freaked. His dad didn't believe him about the truth and his only proof was lying on the floor not breathing. We were in deep trouble.


I sat in one of the horribly uncomfortable hospital chairs in Cora's room. She had been admitted less than an hour ago, and I was staying here until Derek had arrived. There was a pen clutched in my hand and a small notepad balancing on my thigh. Five words were written down on it: healers, warriors, guardians, virgins, and philosophers. I had been staring at the five words for at least fifteen minutes now, hundreds of thoughts flying around my head. The pattern was eerily familiar. Not in the sense as if I had seen it before, in the sense that it was too much of a coincidence how it connected to my life. Every sacrifice on here symbolized someone in my life, including myself. Was that a coincidence or was I over thinking?

"What happened?" Derek rushed into the room. My head shot up and looked at him. He never looked this scared before. I could see his eyes were damp.

"She got in a fight with Aiden at school. Stiles and I took her back to his house and she passed out." Derek rushed over to her and went for her head bandage. "She's not healing." I alerted before he could remove it. Cora's skin was stony white and the girl looked dead if she wasn't already.

"Why isn't she healing?" Derek asked.

"I don't know. But it's not over the fight with Aiden, she should have been healed already. I've seen you come back from the dead with a worse outcome then she had. There's something else wrong." Derek took a seat in the chair next to the bed and took her cold, lifeless hand in his. He squeezed it like it was her lifeline. He sat there in silence, watching his baby sister cling to life. After watching a heartbroken Derek, I returned to my list.

"What's wrong? Derek asked several minutes later.

"Something doesn't add up. It's—it's all to much of a coincidence." I muttered, tapping the pen against the pad to the beat of Cora's heart monitor.

"What is?" He wondered.

"The sacrifice pattern." I continued to stare at it. They were all so similar to people we knew…people I knew.

"You know the pattern?" Derek blankly glared at me.

"Yeah, Allison found it out today…" My voice trailed off as I looked at the paper. Allison. Warrior.

"Katherine?" Derek nudged.

"Call me absolutely insane but this…the pattern is related to us."

"How is that possible?" Derek asked.

"Virgins: Stiles. Warriors: Allison. Guardians: Scott. Philosophers: Lydia. Healers: me."

"How is Lydia a philosopher?"

"Philosopher, another word for scholar or thinker. AKA one of Lydia's many special talents she's hidden from us. I—I don't know if this is connected or not but don't you think it's weird? What if there's something more going on then we know about? What if the Darach's closer to us then we thought?"

"I think we would know if the deranged serial killer was someone close to us. If anything it is Lydia." Derek shot my idea down.

"Lydia's the one finding the bodies, not piling them up." I said, just as my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I pulled it out and slid to answer.

"Stiles, aren't you still here?" I asked, thinking Stiles was roaming in the hospital somewhere.

"Yeah," Stiles barely got to finish before another voice cut in.

"It's me." Scott announced.

"Where are you?" I wondered.

"The school but that's not important. It's not guardians, not law enforcement. It's philosophers, as in teachers! Allison and her father just found Mr. Westover." Scott revealed.

"That makes sense. Tara wasn't always a cop. She used to teach middle school."

"Then the last ones going to be another teacher."

"They're dozens of them, Scott. And they're all headed home." Stiles thought. But, he was wrong.

"No they're not." I realized with a sigh.

"They're all going to the recital!" Scott realized in exclamation.

"So the three of us are going to go protect three dozen teachers?" I asked.

"Sounds like a plan." Stiles mumbled.

"Put me in charge of Ms. Blake and there'll be one more virgin dead."

"Point taken." Stiles sighed. I hung up the phone. Derek's glare went from Cora to me.

"Philosophers." I announced. "Teachers." My lips pursed together to form a tight line. "Looks like I'm going to your girlfriends recital." Derek glared at me with judging eyes.

"I have to stay here."

"I know that. Take care of her, we've got this covered…I hope. And if not, what's one less teacher to Beacon Hills. They're on a budget cut anyways." I chewed down on my lip. We couldn't let another person die. Not another innocent person. I proceeded to walk to the door of the hospital room. "I'll be back later."

"Katherine," Derek stopped me until I turned around to face him, "be careful." I nodded hopefully with a straight face and walked out of the room. Before I strutted down the hallway, I looked back into Cora's hospital room to see Derek hovering over her, fixing her hair and quietly talking to her. Saying he cared about her was an understatement. He loved her. It was the only family he had left. How could he not? It was his baby sister, and the last thing he needed was to lose her. Before Derek noticed me standing there, I walked away in search of Stiles.


Kat's Outfits:

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