Chapter 24 – Runaway

Thirty seconds, probably the longest of my life, was how long we stood there without saying a word. I was a bit insulted and hurt and I think he knew that, which was why he looked so guilty. His fingers kept moving in the doggie's fur absentmindedly and it calmed down at his touch.

"Hey." He broke the silence, probably just as aware as I that Scott would hear every word of this.

"Hi."

Whatever the hell 'this' was. My heart wanted to flutter like crazy, but after the temporary loss of control just now, I had it in a steel grip.

I am in control of my own body; nothing happens without my consent.

"How, um, how've you been?" he asked, looking up from his curls.

"Good," I said automatically. I made a face. "Sorry, that's a lie. I'll be fine."

He nodded, staring at the dog like his thoughts were million leagues away. I'm not sure he even heard me. "Good."

How did you hold a conversation again? What came next here? "And you?"

His answer came instantaneously. "Good."

I folded my arms over my chest, looking out the window, nodding. "Good."

Silence again. Isaac even stopped petting the doggie, so it let him know with a small whimper. He shushed it gently, stroking its fur so it settled back down. It looked incredibly soft to the touch. The dog met my eyes, it looked so sad, and it tried to sniff me at six feet distance. It was probably sedated.

Feeling sorry for it, I stepped forward and let it take the scent from my hand. That also meant standing closer to Isaac, but at least we had the table between us.

"C-can I?" I asked Isaac and he moved his hand so I could run my fingers through its fur coat. So soft. I couldn't help but smile as the doggie closed his eyes when I ran my hand from the top of his head all the way to- my hand nudged Isaac's and I jolted. I started scratching the doggie behind his ears instead, hoping my hair would cover the building blush in my cheeks.

"Um," I started eventually, my eyes fixed on the sedated animal. "What are you…doing here?"

I snuck a glance at Isaac, whose eyes were locked on the dog as well. "I came to ask Scott about something."

"About what? The kani-"

"Advice."

Advice? He came to ask Scott for advice? "Did something happen to Derek?" I asked, figuring it would be the only reason for Isaac to reach out to someone else concerning werewolf-business. Isaac shook his head.

"No, it's…" He breathed deeply through his nose, like steeling himself for whatever came next. "Boyd and Erica are planning on leaving, tomorrow, at the game."

Thump

I couldn't help it, no matter how much control I thought I had, my heart started beating harder.

He's leaving.

Thump

"And you're planning on going with them." Not a question, I knew the answer. I just hoped he would deny it.

Thump

"Yeah. Yeah, I um, I think so."

Thump

"Oh."

Thump

"Yeah, it's...It's probably best."

Thump thump

"Oh? That's what Scott gave as advice?" I knew I shouldn't have involved Scott, not with my voice wavering like that, with my heart beating through my chest. I felt betrayed almost.

"Um, not-"

Thump thump thump

"I have to leave." My voice came out monotonous, robotic, dead. I couldn't stand being so close to him and let him hear my heartbeat, it was embarrassing, humiliating…I thought it- guess it doesn't matter now.

He raised his head to look at me, but I was already turning away. "Cassie-"

"Good luck!" My voice was so tight it's amazing I got a word out. "May the Moon shine brightly on your path."

Merry meet and merry part

Bright the cheeks and warm the heart

My eyes burned with tears, but I would not let them fall. I was in control, for Mother's sake! He would not hear, would not know, would not remember me as weak.

Scott and Dr. Deaton looked up as I pushed through the door. Scott sensed something was wrong and tried to stop me going outside, but I held my arm out to keep him at bay. If I talked, I cried – so I settled for shaking my head rapidly. He backed off.

I heard the clinking of keys and seconds later Scott was outside with me, gesturing to Dr. Deaton's car, saying he'd drive me to the Sheriff's station to pick up my Honda. I was in a trance. What just happened? Why did every encounter with Isaac immediately twist my head and heart and soul around until I didn't know which way was up or what was really going on between us? I just- I just thought we had something between us, thought he thought so too. Guess not.

Scott had the decency to wait until we were well out of earshot – it disturbed me how that was a lot further than I would've guessed. "You wanna talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about?" I retorted, picking up my feet and pressing my knees against my chest. If we were in an accident now, my legs would be crushed. I kept them there.

Scott sighed, but in compassion and not desolation. "If it's any consolation, I think Allison pretty much hates me now. And my mom's not talking to me. And I'm failing my classes and we're not even halfway through the semester yet. And on top of that, the kanima… is still out there."

"Why is this is making me feel better?" I asked, wondering if this made me a bad friend.

"Misery loves company," Scott said, giving me a half-smile. "You're…you're really into him, huh?"

"I- I don't know." I tugged at the sleeves of my plaid shirt. "Like, literally, I don't know. I've never even thought about a guy like this before. Or anyone else for that matter, unless you count the many and varied crushes I've had on fictional characters." I realized what I just said. "They don't count."

Scott kept silent, eyes on the road. It left a gap for me to fill.

"It's probably for the best anyway, he's right. I mean, come on, I wouldn't even know what to do with a-" boyfriend. "Um, I mean, with everything that's going on and…I don't know. I really don't know what I'm talking about anymore."

"Cassie, Isaac was the one who took you to the hospital."

No, no, no, I don't want to know. It's making it worse.

"He told you?" I asked, still a little miffed that Isaac would go to Scott before trying to talk to me.

"No," Scott admitted. "But I could smell he'd been there and that he left with you. Don't know why he didn't just tell you."

Everyone keeps secrets.

"I don't know why I'm so sad," I sniffed, leaning my chin on my knees. "I didn't even know him, not properly. I thought I did and then he turned into a jackass before he went back to being okay to a jackass again and I'm not sure where he's at now."

"Isaac's a good guy."

I snorted and looked at him sideways. "He tried to kill my cousin."

Scott ran a hand through his hair. "You have to trust me on this, the wolf does some crazy things to you when you first turn. For starters there's all this new senses, you hear things, smell things, it takes some getting used to. And you get stronger, faster. And more confident – you need a while to get your head straight. If I didn't have Allison back then, I don't know how I'd turn out. Don't forget that Isaac's getting all his tutoring from Derek, a guy who was born a werewolf and has no idea what it's like to be without these powers."

"Oh please, like you have a douchebag-bone in your body."

He shifted in his seat. "Err, remember how Stiles has this impossibly huge and disturbing crush on Lydia?"

"Since third grade, he said. Yeah?"

He nodded uncomfortably to himself, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "I kind of…made out with her."

I gaped.

"And then I kind of told Stiles when he was helping me get through my first full moon."

"You have got to be-"

"And then I mentally tormented him a little while longer until I broke free from the chains, ran into the woods and tried to kill Jackson and Allison because I thought they were kissing." He let out a breath. "So yeah, kind of a douchebag."

"Wow. Okay. So, you're saying Isaac just went through a douchebag-phase?"

"Probably. And remember that when he took you to the hospital, it was his first full moon as a proper werewolf."

When the Moon rides at Her peak

Then your heart's desire seek

My heart fluttered. "So?"

Scott stopped the car; we'd arrived at the station. "When I first turned, only one thing could bring me back like that."

We said it together: "Allison."

I drove to the House by myself, in silence, nervous of turning on the radio. If there was a ballad of any kind on I would lose it. And I couldn't afford to lose it. Stiles had, don't know if he was aware of it, but he gave up somewhere between Matt's breakdown and his death. Lydia was broken too, in a different way, and she'd been alone too long now. I had to be strong, keep them up.

It just…It felt like I was just a harsh word away from giving up myself. It would be so easy, just to leave, like Boyd and Erica and Isaac. I had every opportunity, gods, my bags weren't even fully unpacked yet. Lydia's still here though. I played with the thought – would she join me if I asked? Run away, no ties, no baggage?

Leaving Beacon Hills would mean leaving the House, the dark forest, the lingering memories of a curly-haired gravedigger, the ever-present feeling that the world was going to end any second now. It would mean breathing easier and falling to sleep without the worry of a snake-monster stalking you. Of course it also meant leaving Stiles, the Sheriff, the school I'd grown oddly attached to, Danny, the Sunflower Room…

Your self-respect.

I sighed, turning the engine off in my improvised parking spot. I trudged through the garden to the back door, still open of course, grabbed a cereal bar from the counter and undressed as I walked through the empty House. In the House you always got the feeling someone was watching you, but I couldn't care less tonight. My socks went first and I threw them over my shoulder, just as I would throw away the thoughts of Isaac tonight. Barefoot I stomped into the living room, lighting up the fire, wrenching of my shirt as the sparks caught on. It landed on the couch, along with my tank top. My bra came next, but it got hooked on the lamp. Who cares?

Who the hell cares?

I unzipped and wiggled out of my jeans as I went into the hall, left them on the floor where they dropped. In my white, sensible panties I turned on the hot water in the tub. I let it run, checking out my tie-dye patterned bruises all over my back and thighs. Most of them were probably from getting used as a sledgehammer on Derek. Stupid werewolf with his stupid hard body.

The steam of the hot water started to condense on the mirror just as a dark shadow moved behind me. I froze, thumbs hooked in the waistband of my underwear.

"You're not paying attention."

Oh, her. I rolled my eyes and used my fist to wipe the fogged-up mirror. Like a real-life horror movie, she stood in the corner. Head bent and still as a statue.

I stripped off my underwear, not looking at her. She was naked too, and though we were both bruised, at least I still looked alive. "Why are you here?" I asked and descended down into the near scalding water, letting it cover me to my neck.

"The borders were breached."

Oh, that explains everything. Not.

"Uh-huh?" Her unmoving presence was upsetting on its own. She wasn't supposed to be here. Even when she coughed, her figure didn't move – almost like her voice and her body was disconnected. I knew I was acting irrationally, Isaac's announcement had me on edge, but wasn't I allowed just one night of wallowing in self-pity? "What borders and how do they concern me again?"

"Do you not know who you are, Cassandra?" She spat out my birth name, like a curse, like something filthy you don't want in your mouth.

"Right now I'm trying to forget," I mumbled and sank my head further under water, blowing bubbles from my mouth. There was a hissing sound as she inhaled sharply.

"We keep secrets not ours to tell

In death does our power dwell.

But heed my words as a threat,

You have seen nothing yet."

Her words came from everywhere at once; I could feel it inside my own head. It gained strength, momentum, several voices joined in.

"Tame and docile, fair and slight

Daughters of sun, daughters of night

Scorn me not or I gravely swear

You will feel the wrath of a Blair."

The water I was in, the clear bath water in the tub, turned red. Drip-drops of crimson colored liquid dropped from above, spreading circles of darkening water. Blood. Of course it was blood. It rained from the ceiling, it ran down the walls, it overflowed the tub, covered my skin.

"By flesh of blue and blood of black

You will feel your bones crack.

By strength of fire and speed of air

My retribution will be just and fair."

With every voice came an echo, strong and hollow like the wind. I gripped the edges of the tub, the words lightening through my skull, forcing my mouth to open, my tongue to speak. I had no choice. The red water sloshed in the tub, the whole House shook, as if it was moving through the forest on its own feet.

"Do not cry, do not lie,

I will suck your bones dry.

Do not think that I'll ever die,

Do not forget the reason why," I muttered it under my breath, my voice drowned out by the dozens, by the hundreds of others saying it with me, with the burnt woman in the corner. An unknown force pushed me up, so I stood naked, blood colored water to my knees and dripping auburn hair. My eyes rolled back into my head, my skin stinging by the energy in the House.

"This is a warning, so hear my verse:

You do not want a Blair Woman's Curse!" I screamed along with all the others unseen participants. On the last syllable, a bubble popped.

Without warning, the woman disappeared. She did not fade, did not retreat into the wall – one second she was there and with the next blink of an eye, she was not. She took along the blood, the shaking, the voices and the only evidence anything ever happened was the buckets of water on the floor and my own standing body in the tub.

I trembled, cold and alone. What the hell was that?

And why am I so angry?

"You okay?" Mrs. McCall asked after the hundredth time I twisted my head in attempt to relieve some of the ache.

I massaged the back of my neck, not looking at her. "Yeah."

"Only, the game hasn't started yet and you already look like you want to decapitate the other team," she joked, a dry laugh following. She was nervous, around me and around people, especially around Scott. Natural reactions after what she'd been through.

I tried to relax my face, clear it of pain and anger. I fell asleep in the bathtub yesterday and woke up with my neck twisted in the most awkward position I could imagine. It didn't help that I spent the entire day hunched over my journal to see if I'd ever noted something similar as that whole thing yesterday.

"I'm fine," I grunted out. It was a miserable attempt at hiding my emotions. If I'd been a werewolf, I imagine my face would be set in a permanent growl.

"Ri-ight," she said. "I'm just going to check in with Scott – watch my seat?"

I nodded, but winced as it tore on the muscles. Remember the bad feeling I've had for a while now, like a looming apocalypse around the corner kind of thing? That was about a million times worse now and it felt like a major waste of time being at this stupid lacrosse game.

One, Jackson was there and playing, which did not bode well even if his kanima master got himself killed by an unknown assailant. Two, Lydia had still to show or give any words of her absence, so I started to suspect Mrs. Martin was not quite as lenient to lacrosse games as Lydia would have me to believe. Three, there was no sign of Allison and I worried because I hadn't seen her after her mother died. Four, while Scott and Stiles were both playing, Isaac was not, and with Jackson on the field, I don't know which part was worse.

And five, I was so pissed off about something I didn't even know yet I couldn't sit still and repeatedly tried to break the plastic seat with my bare hands just to channel some of this rage.

"Cassie."

Six, everything was awkward within the Stilinskis lately and somehow I got sucked into that, so the Sheriff only gave me a solemn nod as he took the seat next to me.

"Sheriff," I mumbled, pulling on my shirt so it would cover my hands. We probably looked like the worst supporters ever. Everyone else was wearing red and white, holding up banners, even those giant foam hands with #1 painted on and yelling in tune with the cheerleaders upfront.

Mrs. McCall returned to her seat within seconds as the team jogged out on the field, met with massive cheers by the spectators. I tried to smile bravely, give a little wave to Scott and Stiles, but my face twisted in confusion as they both sat down on the bench. The hell? I know Stiles said he never actually played, but wasn't Scott co-captain or something?

I looked up and it felt like someone dropped a snow cone down my back – Jackson gave me a nod and a wide smirk before his features disappeared behind his helmet. Of course, smirking was Jackson's sole trademark, but he hadn't been quite as cocky after the whole wardrobe incident and every instinct told me that was the kanima and not Jackson out there on the field. Oh no…

By now I was hoping Lydia wouldn't show and I automatically took up my phone to text her just as she slid in next to me with a polite smile to Mrs. McCall and the Sheriff. Her brows furrowed the second she looked at me. "You okay?"

The question was, did Lydia's presence make me feel better or worse? I shrugged as response. "I don't know yet."

"Oh, no." A groan came from the Sheriff. "Why is my son running out to the field?"

I followed his despaired gaze, expecting Stiles in full sprint to stop Jackson from maiming someone, but instead he was hastily putting on his helmet, lightly jogging.

"Because he's on the team?" Mrs. McCall suggested drily and I think a realization passed through both the Sheriff and I.

"He is," the Sheriff breathed.

"Wait, he's playing?" I asked to anyone who would answer – I wasn't really into the rules of the game yet.

The Sheriff stood up, fist shaking. "My son is on the field!"

"Does that mean he's playing?" I asked again and Mrs. McCall nodded enthusiastically. I bounced up in the seat, standing on it so I was even taller than the Sheriff. Screw bad feelings and inexplicable rage – this was just what Stiles needed. "Whooo! Go STILES!"

No one else shared our enthusiasm, so we both sank down after a few seconds and grinned to each other. The players got into their positions, Jackson all the way up front to start the game and Stiles a bit further to the rear, possibly in a defense position? Or offense? I had no idea.

The Sheriff's boyish eagerness faded into concern the closer we got to kickoff and he rubbed his hands in a nervous gesture. Stiles couldn't stand still on the field, every few seconds jumping around or doing some sort of dancing warm-up-move. Was he nervous?

"Lyds," I whispered, leaning away from the adults. "I thought Scott was one of our best players?"

She did a pout and a dainty hm-sound. "Well, there are requirements for joining the team other than being fit." She sounded like she knew it all, and when you consider how long she dated Jackson, she probably did. "You have to maintain at least a 2.0-average for example."

Ouch. That did explain things.

"And you can't fail a single class." Thank gods she sort of kept her voice down, because I don't think Mrs. McCall wanted to hear this. Or Scott himself for that matter, I think he was feeling bad enough already. He didn't even cheer for Stiles, just sat tense and brooding on the bench, twisting his helmet around.

"Cassie?" Lydia whispered to me, her sight locked on the lacrosse players. "Why do you look like you want to murder someone?"

"I don't know yet," I whispered back, but just then, the whistle sounded.

The game was on.

"Ooooh." The bleachers moaned in sympathy with the poor player who just got smashed by the opposing team. Take three guess who that poor player is? Yup, that's it, Stiles Stilinski.

Somewhere within the first ten minutes, I found myself peeking through my fingers rather than pumping my fist for the Beacon Hills Cyclones. "Ouch!"

"Oh look he got the – no, there he goes."

Stiles was taking a hell of a beating, along with every other player on the field, everyone except Danny who was doing a great job of keeping the goal ball-less. Jackson's game was off, according to Lydia. She made it sound like he insulted her personally by not being the best and she even made an offhand comment about actually missing Matt's presence on the field, cue simultaneous cringe from us around her.

I glared at her and she held up her hands. "Sorry." She swallowed, straightening out her jeans and stared straight ahead as Stiles dropped another ball. "It's just frustrating that half the team is dead, missing or disqualified at the finals. Or just sucking massively today for some reason." Her latter words were directed at Jackson, not Stiles.

The whistle blew – quarter time. Stiles walked off to the sidelines by himself, so I guess he wasn't seriously injured…yet.

I tried to read the score board and was just about to ask Lydia which side showed our score again when she let out a low whistle.

"Look who decided to show up."

"What?" I asked, but she just nodded her head discreetly in the direction of the player bench. My heart skipped a beat so hard I bet every werewolf from here to Timbuktu could hear it. Next to Scott was number 14, big white letters spelling 'LAHEY' on his jersey.

"Isaac?" I said without thinking and he turned his head slightly towards us, towards me. He gave me his signature half-smile and then he – did he just wink at me? Isaac Lahey just winked at me! My shirt felt four sizes too small and way too hot all of a sudden.

I smiled back.