Chapter 8: Help

Stiles had woken up screaming every night for the past several days, and Daria had no idea what to do.

"It's okay, son." Their dad held onto Stiles tightly as his screams dulled into muffled sobs.

Daria walked in, clutching a pillow to her chest. "I'll stay with him, Dad."

"You sure, sweetheart?"

The bags under her father's eyes were especially pronounced tonight. "I'm sure. Get some rest."

She dropped the pillow, switching places with her dad, and Stiles continued to cry into her shoulder. "It's okay, Stiles. I'm here. It's okay now. Nothing will get you while I'm here."

She sat beside his bed in a desk chair, gently humming while she clutched his hand.

He slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

–

It had been three weeks since she'd last seen Derek, and Stiles' nightmares had started. Being able to help her brother rest last night was a godsend, but her own sleep deprivation was starting to wear on her. Daria had been in the house too long. She was starting to feel like a prisoner all over again.

"Honey, I don't know how I feel about you going out into the woods alone," her father said as he sipped his morning coffee.

"I'll stick to the trails, I promise."

Worry lines etched themselves on his forehead. "I almost lost you once. I don't want to lose you again."

"I can't live in a cage, Dad. Otherwise I still may as well still be with Deucalion."

He let her go grudgingly, and she drove to one of the longer trails. Then she parked the car and jogged out to the trail head. Daria moaned with satisfaction at the feel of the terrain as she took each step. She was home.

She'd only been out for half an hour when she was greeted with the sound of crunching leaves. She didn't have to turn around.

"Deucalion."

"Your intuition serves you well, little one."

Daria turned around slowly and gasped.

"Y-you're not blind anymore."

"Indeed. And you're even more beautiful than I'd imagined."

Agent McCall's explanation of grooming crept into her mind, and she shuddered. "Are you here to kidnap me again?"

"On the contrary. I'm here… to ask your forgiveness."

"What?"

"Abducting you for leverage was abhorrent, and I'm striving to rectify my wrongs. So I offer you this gesture of goodwill in hopes that I may someday find my way into your good graces."

She glared angrily. "What gesture could you possibly offer me?"

"Your beloved wolf has been off the grid for ten days."

Daria felt her heart stop.

"Derek…"

"Rumor has it that he and his uncle are being held hostage by hunters in Mexico."

Her hands trembled. "Hunters?"

"Indeed. A family of werewolf hunters. So I've taken the liberty of hiring a mercenary to rescue him for you."

A shaky exhale left her lips and she closed the distance between herself and the Alpha of Alphas, stopping just short of giving him a hug.

"He's not my beloved. I don't know what he is. But if he's safe, I'll forgive you."

"That's all that I ask."

–

Stiles paced around the living room after school that afternoon while Scott worked on his homework.

"There has to be a way to fix this, Scott."

"Is there anything at all that helps with the nightmares?"

"Well, there is one thing, but it sounds ridiculous."

"Well, what is it?"

Before he could answer, Daria walked in through the front door.

"Hey, Stiles. Hey, Scott. No work at the animal clinic today?"

"Not until tomorro…" Scott froze, blinking.

Stiles stopped pacing immediately. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"Deucalion's scent is on your sister."

"Yeah…" Daria hesitated. "He wanted to apologize. I really think he meant it."

"And you're just going to forgive him? After everything he put you through?"

"Scott. Scott, your eyes." Stiles put a cautious hand on his shoulder.

"What's happening?" Daria took a step toward them.

"Daria, don't." Scott threw a hand up, motioning for her to stop. Claws began to protrude from each finger.

"Is this like what's happening with you, Stiles?"

"Well, yeah, kind of. A little. Apart from the red eyes, claws, and potential for maiming."

She took a deep breath and walked up to Scott, resting a cool hand on the side of his neck.

"No, wai–"

"Listen to me, Scott."

Something about her voice instantly soothed him.

"It's working," Stiles breathed. "Keep talking to him."

"It's going to be okay." She pulled him into a gentle hug. "It's going to be okay, Scott."

Scott blinked as the red in his eyes vanished. "How did you do that?" He looked at her in awe.

"I don't have a fancy power like you do." She rested a hand on his cheek in a motherly sort of way. "But I have me. And if I can help even a little, I'll do what I can."

Scott released her, still staggered.

"I'm going to get cleaned up. Let me know if you boys need anything."

"So, you're okay now? You seem okay."

He stared after her until she disappeared. "How did she do that?"

"How did she do what?"

"It was like… the moment she touched my skin, everything felt more calm."

"I-I don't know how she did it." Stiles avoided his best friend's gaze.

He turned to Stiles. "What's wrong?"

"Nah, it's nothing. It's probably nothing." He seemed to deliberate in his mind for a few seconds. "Okay, maybe it's not nothing."

"What is it?"

"It's just- last night I had another nightmare - per usual. Usually my dad stays up to help, but last night, last night Daria said she'd stay up with me."

"And…? What happened."

"That's just it, Scott. Nothing happened. I slept better than I had in days."

"Do you think it could be supernatural?"

"I mean, how can it be? She's my sister. She's my flesh and blood. It's not possible, right?"

"I don't know, Stiles. I'm starting to believe anything is possible."

–

In spite of Daria's help that night things were worse the next day for Stiles. So much so that he and Scott went to Dr. Deaton for help.

Deaton led them to the back room of the clinic, expression grim. "When you crossed from unconsciousness to a kind of… superconsciousness, you essentially opened a door in your minds."

"Okay, so what does that mean?" pressed Scott. "The door is still open?"

"Ajar."

"The door into our minds." Stiles closed his eyes, trying to process everything Deaton was saying.

"I did tell you it was risky."

Scott turned to his boss gravely. "What do we do about it?"

"Well, that's… difficult to answer."

Stiles groaned. "No wait a sec, I know that look. That's the 'we know exactly what's wrong with you, and we have no idea how to fix it' look."

"The one thing I do know - is that having an opening like that into your mind - it's not good. You each need to close that door, and you need to do it as soon as possible."

"Okay, well hang on a sec. What about Daria?"

"Daria?" Deaton frowned. "Is your sister also having issues?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's just the opposite. It's like when she's around, I can actually sleep. And- and she even helped keep Scott from going full wolf."

Deaton's expression softened. "From the moment I met your sister I observed an exceptional capacity for empathy toward both humans and nature alike. It's part of the reason she chose to pursue wildlife conservation as a career, but that doesn't necessarily mean that her gift is supernatural."

"It was more than that." Scott shook his head. "It was like… the moment she touched me I felt more like myself."

"Never underestimate the power of simple human touch."

"Yeah, but it's possible right?" An idea struck Stiles. "And, maybe, just maybe, it's the reason Derek thinks he's so into her. It was probably supernatural all along, and- and they should never… EVER date, or hug, or hold hands, or anything."

Deaton smiled. "Even if your sister had become an empath - which is incredibly rare - it wouldn't affect a powerful, romantic bond."

Stiles began to grumble, but Scott spoke up.

"You said 'become' an empath. How does that work?"

At that moment the door to the clinic opened, and Stiles' dad walked in.

"Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I could use some help."

Speculation about Daria's abilities would have to wait.

–

Daria stood outside the McCall residence, trying to gain the courage to knock. Her father had finally admitted that the FBI might relieve him of his position, and there was really only one thing to be done.

She rapped on the door, and Scott's mother greeted her.

"Daria, hi. I'm sorry, Stiles isn't here. Even Scott seems to have vanished."

"Actually, I was hoping to speak to Agent McCall."

"Oh! Of course, come on in."

Scott's father was seated in the living room and appeared somewhat disheveled. His face fell when he saw her.

"Look, I've already heard enough from my own son and ex-wife tonight. If you're here to plead your father's case, come back another day."

She took a seat at the other end of the couch. "That's not exactly why I'm here. I was hoping you could help me with something else."

This surprised him. "Go on."

"I applied for an indefinite leave of absence from my master's program, but I have an environmental sciences degree." She drummed her fingers together nervously. "In case my father loses his job, could you help me find a way to take care of them in the meantime?"

He looked touched. "You're a good daughter, Miss Stilinski. I'll see what I can do to help you support your family."

–

Stiles and Scott crouched inside a small cave in the woods. Sheriff Stilinski wanted to solve one last case before potentially losing his job, and it involved a car accident that he now believed was supernaturally related. This led to Scott and Stiles going out on their own and discovering that one of the accident victims, Malia Tate, was not only still alive, she was a werecoyote.

"We shouldn't be in here." Scott murmured as he looked at a teddy bear and coat that had been Malia's.

Scott immediately regretted entering the cave. Malia would know that they had trampled all over her belongings and would find somewhere else to go, but they had no clue where. And Scott was afraid to transform into his werewolf form in case he couldn't shift back. It didn't help matters that Derek wasn't answering any of his calls or texts.

Where was Derek anyway?

–

Derek and his uncle had been tortured for days by hunters asking where La Loba was. She-wolf. But Cora was in South America now, and he'd do everything in his power to protect her.

'We don't know any she-wolf.'

Even Peter wouldn't speak, and in turn got his finger cut off. Derek was impressed at his uncle's resolve - and grateful that his usual sense of self-preservation hadn't put Cora's life at risk.

"I don't want to make it seem like we don't appreciate your hospitality–" Peter's eyes fell from the guard to his missing digit now lodged into the floorboards. "–but do you think it would be possible to put that on ice? Maybe something for my hand - an extra large band-aid? Perhaps some antibiotic... ointment?"

Derek would have rolled his eyes if he'd felt a little less defeated. Just then he heard movement from the floor above. Light footsteps and the swig of a bottled liquid.

Then the sounds of bullets and broken glass rang out above them. A woman burst into the room, knocking out the guard instantly. She had scars that ran from her ear down across her neck.

She appraised both Peter and himself with a hungry, self-satisfied glint in her eye. Then he remembered why she seemed familiar.

"You're the one who saved Isaac."

"I'm the one who was hired to save Isaac."

"Someone hired you to get us out of here?" murmured Peter in disbelief.

"Someone hired me to get Derek out of here. You - I'm totally fine leaving for dead."

"When did I get this reputation?"

Derek ignored his uncle. "Who hired you?"

"Deucalion."

"Deucalion?" Peter pointed at her scars. "The guy who did that to you?"

"A girl's gotta eat." She shrugged as she unshackled them both. "Deucalion wanted to redeem himself to some girl he'd recently wronged."

Derek felt his heart thump in his chest. "Daria."

"Don't know, don't care. It's a little too Shakespearean for me. Let's get the hell out of here."

–

Daria ran out to greet Stiles as he got home that night. She heard about Malia, the werecoyote, from her dad and knew that Scott and Stiles had been out with the others, trying to help keep Malia from getting killed by her own father.

"Stiles, thank God!"

"Hey, sis, Dad's working late tonight. He said not to wait up."

"Did you guys find the girl?"

A slow smile grew on his face. "We found the girl."

"That's great news. Let's celebrate and order pizza!"

"Right, because nothing says 'I'm glad you kept a girl from getting shot by her dad while running around the forest as a werecoyote' quite like a box of greasy carbs."

She laughed, throwing an arm around her brother, but he jerked back, flinching.

"Whoa, you okay, Stiles?"

"Yeah, it's just… been a long day."

"Okay, well, I can stay in your room to help you sleep again if you want."

"I'm feeling much better."

She frowned. "Already? Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I'm positive I won't need you anymore."

Something seemed off about Stiles, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She would have to keep her eye on him.

–

Thanks for reading! -V