Chapter 70

Stiles saw no reason to keep his latest case of the wobblies from his friends, or even from Jackson, Lydia, and Danny. Right in the next morning as they met for an elaborate breakfast, he told them about Scott's smuggled letters and the realization he and Isaac had had about Scott's behaviour.

"You're not wrong," Lydia commented as everyone digested this news. "Now that you've mentioned it, some of it does point in the psychopathy direction. But there might be sociopathy involved as well."

"How do you figure?" Isaac asked, popping the last bite of his scrambled eggs in his mouth. "And how do you know?"

Lydia flushed. "Well, my mother was concerned when an intelligence test my kindergarten teacher recommended came back … high. I was regularly evaluated as a consequence. Anyway, McCall clearly didn't care at all what the fallout of his collaboration with that hunter person would mean for the people around him. He didn't even stop to think what losing his werewolf powers would mean to him personally. He just wanted them gone so he could be with Allison without having to fear for his life."

Jackson snorted. "Aren't psychos supposed to be clever or something? That was not McCall being clever. His asthma must be really kicking his ass about now."

"Well, he's seventeen and fancied himself in love," Danny said. He shrugged when everyone stared at him. "I'm just saying that hormones are a thing. Unfortunately. Who of us here didn't do stupid shit at one time or another?"

Stiles bit his lip and glanced around, only to find that they all looked somewhat embarrassed, even Boyd. Even Isaac and he'd told Stiles that he wasn't looking for a girlfriend and never had one before either. For a second he wondered what Isaac in love would look like.

"Right, moving on," Stiles said, shaking those unruly thoughts away. "Scott will be evaluated and my dad and I will never let him get close to us again. Case closed."

"Almost closed," Isaac corrected. "Peter wants contingency plans for just about everything. He's adding that to your job description and you'll all receive handouts with prompts."

"Any limits on how vicious we can be?" Lydia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"We're talking about Peter here," Isaac said flatly. "We're supposed to take the sheriff's ability to make shit vanish into account, but that's all."

"And I thank Peter kindly for that. It's mostly drills for confrontations with the alpha dudes, or those locust rocker dudes because apparently they still want to nab me to cow my dad, and of course new supernatural visitors of the unfriendly sort, Jackson's situation, you name it," Stiles explained.

"That sounds intellectually challenging and emotionally satisfying," Lydia told them and took a dainty sip of her latte. "I approve."

"Peter's also offering to pay for martial arts classes so everyone will be able to defend themselves better," Isaac added. "It doesn't matter which discipline you pick, he only cares that it gets the job done in an emergency. The threats are real, so think about it please."

"Sweet!" Erica exclaimed. "I've always wanted to learn spy stuff. Like, killing with a paperclip, or disabling people with a nerve pinch. Does that count?"

"Taekwondo or Muay Thai," Boyd said evenly. "ROTC was offering their version of martial arts, but those interest me more."

Jackson and Danny looked at each other.

"Mixed martial arts," Jackson decided, surprising Stiles with how reluctant he didn't sound. It seemed like he'd warmed up to the idea after their talk.

"Wing Chun," Danny offered with a smile. "Be the water, my friend, and all that. I've always wanted to go but lacrosse was taking too much of my time. I guess that'll have to change now."

"You weren't thinking of going pro, were you?" Stiles asked worriedly. "Because you could, honestly."

"Thanks, Stiles." Danny smiled. "But no, I have no plans. I just wanted to join a club and be active. That was the best thing on offer so I did it."

"You shouldn't feel pressured or anything," Isaac said. "It's just an offer, even if Peter would like it if you'd take him up on it."

"It's a very sensible and generous offer," Danny replied. "It's alright. We've only one more year of school anyway and the coach already knows that I have no plans of joining a college team. I'll remain on the team but cut training short. I wanted to do that anyway so I could study more."

"If you're sure," Stiles said, a little thrown by the support Peter's suggestion was receiving from practically everyone.

"And you, Lydia?" Erica asked. "What would you pick if you were to take Peter up on his offer?"

"Aikido," Lydia said without any hesitation. "I'm small, I'd need to use my opponent's weight and strength against them." She pursed her lips. "I could stand to lose a few inches. All that woe-is-me ice cream hasn't done me any favours."

"You don't need to lose weight," Jackson said lazily with a smug smile. "I like you just the way you are."

Lydia's answering smile was sharp. "And you'll like me a few inches smaller."

"So you're all gonna get in on it?" Isaac asked, smartphone in hand. "Peter created an account for your needs, just use the credit card to buy your gear and pay for the classes. The offer's open-ended and only closes if someone leaves this group."

"Geographically or mentally?" Boyd asked.

"Geography is not a factor," Isaac replied. "As long as we're involved like this, you're welcome to take advantage of it."

Erica squealed happily, only to pout a second later. "Having enough money to do it is all well and good, but who could teach us? The dojo Stiles and Isaac go to only offers krav maga and karate, and I don't think I've ever seen a studio for, well, spy stuff."

Stiles shrugged. "Peter will make it happen. He knows people, and now that your parents know him better he'll talk them into it."

"I'll find a studio and enrol," Boyd declared. "Can I use one of the computers?"

"Sure, everyone can," Stiles said. He looked at Derek who hadn't said a word since they'd sat down to breakfast. "How about you? Still no interest in going?"

Derek looked over to the computer Boyd had claimed. "I know that I said I'll join you and Isaac, but now I think I might join Boyd. He's strong, we could spar together and build a team."

"That's even better," Stiles said, elated. "You'll both kick so much ass!" Much softer, he added, "You're the best."

Derek shrugged and looked down, but Lou signalled Stiles that he was pleased.

It didn't even take them an hour to find schools for their preferred sport, and after another five minutes of Isaac reassuring everyone that no, this really wasn't a joke, everyone sent off an email or placed a call to secure their attendance.

"Amazing what money can make possible," Danny said, a little stunned, once it was done. "Or just perspective, I guess. The sensei told me to come in tomorrow morning for a trial."

"I've got afternoons," Jackson complained. "I hope they have air conditioning."

Lydia scribbled the times for their courses onto a sheet of paper and frowned. "We're all broken up. That's unfortunate. What about our jobs here in the workshop?"

"We keep doing what hours we can," Stiles replied. "It's unfun not to spend so much time together going forward, but this is important. If something comes up before we can talk, we'll just leave notes or whatever. It'll all work out."

"I'll act as office manager," Erica offered. "I can coordinate projects and stuff if it becomes necessary. But since you've made warding Beacon Hills our priority, the shop won't be a problem."

"We can do the ward stones in a week or two," Jackson declared. "Buy a fucking heat lamp to make the paint dry faster, it's not like Hale can't afford it."

"Not a bad idea," Isaac said and made a note on his ever-present notepad. "The summer heat works in our favour, but it's been humid these last few days. The lamps would make the process a little quicker."

Danny raised his hand. "Uh, newbie here. I don't know whether I'm hired or not, but I'd at least like to know what's going on."

It didn't take long to bring Danny up to speed and in the end, the boy offered to help with the painting as much as he could.

"I'll tell Peter to prepare a contract," Isaac said. "Same conditions as for everyone else."

"You'll like those conditions," Lydia informed Danny. "Too bad you weren't involved when we were looking for a solution to that interrogation problem the sheriff had, the payout was amazing."

"There'll be more opportunities," Stiles said. "Because there's always something."

Danny's smile was sunny. "I honestly can't wait. When do I start?"

oOo

That day, they only spent a couple more hours indoors. The air was humid and sweet - all the werewolves predicted rain and thunder very shortly - and so it was decided to spend the last dry hours in the preserve where Derek was showing off his newly-warded and already pretty cleaned up property.

"The house makes me sad," Erica said quietly as she stood before the burned-out husk, "but your garden is coming along great. Your werewolf strength must be a huge boon."

"I had to drag a lot of fallen wood and other debris out of the clearing," Derek admitted. "Once I've completed the garden I'll clean up the house. Just … get everything out from inside at gro from there."

"What are you gonna do with it?" Jackson asked, poking around the entrance. "Seems pretty pointless if you live in town."

Derek glanced at Stiles. "I'm not sure yet. I thought about rebuilding it. Not for living there, more like a project."

"It would keep you busy for a while. A year, maybe," Boyd said.

Lydia swiped a finger across a sooty windowsill and frowned. "Being strong might not be enough to do it all alone. If you need help, Jackson can pitch in."

"Hey," Jackson snapped. "Stop volunteering me for some stranger's coping projects. I've got things to do."

"Yeah, not cool, Lydia," Stiles pointed out. "It's Derek's house. He decides if and when he needs help. He can figure it out for himself."

Jackson looked uncomfortable for a second. "No offence, Derek."

"None taken," Derek replied evenly. He eyed Lydia. "You'd better not volunteer me for anything, either."

"I wouldn't mind giving you a hand," Boyd said after some consideration.

A first fat raindrop fell right on Erica's head and she squealed.

"Time to go home," Derek said and waved everyone towards the small makeshift parking lot where they'd parked Stiles' Jeep and Boyd's old but trusty Dodge. A bit farther down the path, Jackson had left his Porsche.

They hadn't even made it to the edge of the preserve when the skies broke open and a torrent of water rained down on the parched earth.

Stiles had trouble seeing through his windshield and the noise of water thundering onto the roof of the Jeep was deafening. At a snail's pace, he drove them through the forest, relying heavily on Derek and Isaac's superior hearing and eyesight because the headlights were doing jack shit to improve visibility.

"Careful!" Derek shouted suddenly, causing Stiles to hit the brakes hard.

Just a couple of yards before them, a huge stag appeared out of nowhere and galloped across the path. Stiles was so pumped up with adrenaline that he saw the whites in the animal's eyes and the foam at its mouth and didn't feel even a bit of the burn the snagging seatbelt caused.

"The fuck was that?" he gasped as he was thrown back into his seat. "Why did it do that?"

The answer became clear when an enormous thunderclap shook the Jeep's chassis down to the last screw.

"Alright," Isaac muttered shakily. "That's bad."

For a long moment, they breathed loudly and way too fast.

"Let's go," Derek eventually said. "I can drive if you don't feel up to it."

Stiles took another deep breath. "Yeah, maybe you should." On his arms, he noticed the agitatedly crawling mountain ash. "Uh, let me …"

It was an awkward shuffle to trade places with a man that was so built but eventually, Stiles managed to get his flailing and somehow always in the wrong place limbs to the middle of the bench. His fingers were shaking as he clicked the seatbelt on.

Derek didn't even look out of breath, the traitor.

"Classy," Isaac smirked.

"Shut it," Stiles grunted. "You haven't lived a day with the curse that is my inability to coordinate."

"I was its victim often enough," Isaac replied smugly. "I'm entitled to some gloating."

Derek got the car going again. They'd gone second, and thankfully Boyd hadn't rear-ended them, although that was an ominous comfort at best under these circumstances.

Very slowly, they finally managed to leave the forest. A short, somewhat staticky call confirmed that they'd be meeting at the diner to rest and wait out the storm. In Jackson's case, he also needed to call the mechanic because a couple of ravens had hit his windshield and front passenger window with such force that they'd broken through.

Stiles marvelled that he hadn't heard Lydia's surely impressive scream.

Once there, they fled into the diner with just their bags and backpacks as shields against the heavy rain and ordered a huge late lunch to make up for the shock.

"The weather forecast predicted some rain and a minor storm, but nothing like this," Isaac said and showed them his phone as they waited for their food. His wet hair curled madly and he looked like a model in his drenched white T-shirt. "This apocalypse out there would've definitely caused the weather station to sound an alert."

"Sucks that your car got trashed," Stiles said to Jackson, keeping his amusement at Danny's furtive ogling to himself. "If it's any consolation, we almost got hit by a stag."

Boyd grimaced. "I ran over several small somethings before I could stop, but I've got no idea what. There was no way to see them, they were suddenly just there."

"It feels like we murdered them," Erica whispered and rubbed her upper arms. "It was spooky."

"It was," Danny agreed. He'd ridden with Erica and Boyd and looked just as discomposed as them. "Please tell me it was natural, though. My nana is deathly afraid of vengeful spirits and I'll freely admit that I can do without them as well."

Isaac mirrored Boyd's grimace. "Let's hope for the best and prepare for the worst. There are at least two other magic users in town besides Stiles … one of them might've done this. Peter's just messaged; he doesn't think that this storm is in any way natural. It came far too quickly and apparently it smells wrong."

"Wrong how?" Derek asked, frowning.

"He didn't say." Isaac perked up a little. "Ah, our food is here. I'm starving."

Surprisingly, so was everyone else. They ate their burgers and greedily slurped down their much-needed milkshakes. It took a while but the storm finally abated, leaving behind a carnage of defoliated trees and hedges. The debris littered the street and from afar they could hear the wailing of several sirens.

"Your dad's gonna have a rough evening," Danny said compassionately.

Jackson huffed. "The mechanic called back. They say I'll have to wait until my car can get towed. They're working the emergencies first. I'll go and ask whether I can leave my car in the diner's parking lot."

"Good idea, your windshield is a mess," Erica agreed and shuddered. "Those poor birds. And Lydia's still pale. You alright?"

Lydia nodded, but there was a faraway look in her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna drive my car while they're stuck in there," Jackson said. "My mom will pick us up. No idea when, though. She says our streets are littered with foliage and dead birds."

"I could take you," Boyd said. "Might be best to walk the last bit, though, if the streets aren't completely free."

"I'll take it," Lydia said quietly. She laid a hand on Jackson's arm. "Will you come home with me? Can you stay the night?"

Jackson's annoyed expression softened. "Yeah. I'll text home and tell them where I am."

Lydia leaned forward and kissed him, soft and sweet. "Thank you."

Since no one felt any desire to linger, they paid the bill and shuffled out to the parking lot. Jackson's precious Porsche truly was a sorry sight with two large black birds rammed through the shields like unexploded missiles. There were also several nasty scratches all over the paint job and one of the hubcaps hadn't made it back to the city.

"It's rude to stare," Jackson sniped, flushing a little at the sight of the damage. "Besides, yours doesn't look any better."

"No," Stiles admitted with a sigh. "But at least my baby made it back in one piece."

"More or less," Isaac muttered, running a finger along a large scratch. "Can you drive me home? Peter wants me there, but he said Derek should stay with you tonight, just in case things act up again."

"Sure, no problem."

Stiles said goodbye to everyone not riding in his car and breathed a prayer of relief when the motor started without issue. While he had some money saved now, he didn't want to ask either his dad or Peter for money to get the Jeep repaired. With just the paint scratched up, he was just about able to finance the repairs himself.

During the ten-minute drive, Isaac received another message and said, "Change of plans. Peter asks that you come in for a bit, Stiles. He's got something to tell us."

Stiles shrugged and acquiesced. It usually wasn't a hardship to visit Peter.

How he wished that he hadn't been so naive because they had barely sat at the dining table when Peter dropped two boxes of condoms in front of the teens and said matter-of-factly, "You need to get laid ASAP."

End of chapter 70