Chapter 10: Raving

After the Kanima incident in the school library, I figured I had to explaining to do to Matt. Fortunately, he kept weirdly quiet about the entire situation. Like no questions at all. Maybe Jackson hit him hard enough to not only give him a concussion, but also forget anything ever happened. Either way I was thankful I didn't have to break to him that werewolves as well as psychotic lizards with a past exist. Honestly, he didn't even seem fazed on our way back from the hospital after being there for six hours. He was even anxious to get back to school as soon as possible. Clearly he was still very concussed if he wanted to be back in school so suddenly.

Once he was released from the hospital, we headed home so he could ice his head with a bag of frozen asparagus (courtesy of me). I was now sporting a bruised nose which only make-up could cover up. Still clad in the same bloody clothes, our dad had come home that morning and didn't even bother asking questions. Instead, he settled on an unimpressed groan and grumbled all the way to his room. Thank god he's a man of few words. Except when he's drinking because that's when the drunken rants start.

"Here," Matt said, sliding me a colorful rectangular piece of paper. I frowned down at the kitchen counter and skimmed the writing on the ticket.

"A rave?"

"Mhm," he murmured. "Drug-free. I figured I owed you since I've been acting like, and I quote, the one who's walking around here like someone shoved a bat up your a-"

"I get it," I interrupted with a chuckle. I examined the ticket with a small smile on my face. "This is actually pretty cool of you, Matt. Thanks." He genuinely seemed to be in a better mood. Despite the last 12 hours of our insane day.

Matt shrugged with an air of confidence. "It's only one ticket, so no plus ones. Sorry," he sheepishly apologized as he walked away and up the stairs.

I scoffed before yelling after him. "Yeah, you don't seem that sorry!"

After the library incident, Scott decided it was time to go to Deaton and I couldn't agree more. The translations had helped, but since Deaton knows everything about everything, he could help a lot more. Stiles was busy with god knows what and I was the only other person who had (unwillingly) gotten up close and personal with the Kanima, so I joined Scott. Apparently Derek was supposed to be joining us, but it turns out Miguel isn't the most punctual person.

Scott and I were sitting in the back of the vet's office while waiting for him. "So, if you weren't a werewolf, what kinda supernatural creature would you be?" I asked, breaking the silence. Scott look taken back for a split second but went into a deep thought soon after.

"Not a Kanima?" He answered in an unsure tone. I opened my mouth to agree, but was interrupted when Derek finally showed up. "What's he doing here?" Scott asked, referring to Isaac who was trailing behind Derek. Isaac sent me a not-so-subtle wink and wave.

I narrowed my eyes in response. "Agreed, he's a terrible spy."

"I need him," Derek responded.

Well, ain't that just sweet?

Scott dropped his jaw as the two walked past him. "I don't trust him."

"Yeah, well, he doesn't trust you either," Isaac spoke up, taking in his surroundings. I couldn't help but to roll my eyes at the pattern that was surely forming.

"You know what? And Derek really doesn't care," Derek said with finality.

"Oh, god," I mumbled under my breath, earning looks from all three werewolves. "Don't look at me like that if we're gonna keep talking in third person," I quipped, crossing my arms.

"Why is she here?" Derek asked, still eyeing me as if he just now noticed I was standing here. Seriously, dude, you're a werewolf. I know you have better deduction skills than that.

"She," Scott mocked. "Is the only other one who has seen the kanima up close and personal."

Derek tore his eyes away from me and glared at Scott. "That's because Jackson won't attack her and she can't be trusted."

"Yes, she can," Scott growled. I rolled my eyes and ran both my hands through my hair due to frustration.

"I'll remember that the next time your ass gets shot by a wolfsbane bullet," I grumbled only for me to hear despite the fact that three others had heightened senses. "Look, I don't care if Miguel, the mid-twenty, broody, leather jacket clad werewolf doesn't trust me, okay? People are dying, and my brother was the only one attacked yesterday so now I feel like this thing has an issue with me. So, can't we all just pretend to get along for another 20 minutes?" I finished with an air of sarcasm hanging at the end of my sentence. I took in Isaac's expression which looked put out for most of my mini rant.

"Fine," Derek sighed. "Now where's the vet? Is he gonna help us or not?"

"That depends," Deaton answered from around the corner. Jesus man, if you're gonna hide out in the shadows, at least come and break up a spat in between us. Like you know Derek is the most argumentative, paranoid werewolf you've ever met. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him?" He asked.

"Kill him," Derek answered the same time as Scott answered, "save him."

"Save him," Scott firmly corrected. "Save him," he reiterated to Deaton once again. Derek looked disappointed at Scott's redundant plan and said nothing in response. The five of us huddled around the steel table. Deaton pulled out what resembled a spice rack and placed it on the table. Isaac went in to grab something, but was stopped by a moody Miguel. "Watch what you touch," Derek scolded, grabbing Isaac's wrist.

Isaac bent and placed both his elbows on the table and smirked up at Deaton. "So, what are you? Some kind of witch?"

"No, I'm a veterinarian," Deaton corrected. "Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin."

"We're open to suggestions," Derek informed.

"What about an effective offense?" Isaac asked.

"We already tried," Derek explained. "I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?" Deaton continued.

"Well one, it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?"

"No," Scott spoke up. "He's the captain of the swim team."

"Essentially, you're trying to catch two people," Deaton began. He turned his back and to grab something before continuing. "A puppet and a puppeteer. One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife. Do we know why?" He asked.

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too, and she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else," Scott explained.

"How do you know it's not part of the rules? The Kanima kills murderers. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too." Isaac asked.

"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied," I murmured to myself.

"What was that?" Deaton asked.

I shook my head silently, waving off my last comment. "It's just something I've heard before, but if the Kanima kill murderers that would mean Stiles, Isaac's dad, the married couple, some mechanic, Derek, and I were murderers. Are there really that many potential murderers in Beacon Hills," I defended. "I don't think that's the case."

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was," Isaac added quietly.

"Hold on. The book says they're bonded, right? What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him? What if something that affects the Kanima also affects its master?" Deaton questioned.

"Don't you have a fear of water?" Derek asked nodding toward me.

"Now I do," I snapped. God, I swear if he weren't so hot and not a werewolf, I'd rip his head off. Even though I still struggle with opening a bottle of Aquafina, but it's the effort that counts. "And it's only because I was egged on to jump into eight feet of water."

"And?"

"And I don't know about you, Derek, but I haven't murdered anyone recently," I reminded with frustration thick in my voice.

"Guys," Scott interrupted. "She's not the Kanima's master, Stiles or I would have noticed by now, okay?"

Derek and I were still glaring at each other until Isaac brought me out of it by nudging me a bit. Derek had noticed and began glaring at Isaac who, in turn, ignored him. Ugh, this is the last time I come to a secret werewolves meeting if it means getting accused of being in control of a potent, murderous lizard master. "So what does this bonded thing mean?"

"It means we can catch them. Both of them."

"We already tried that," I reminded. "Scott and Stiles have the restraining orders to prove it."

"Since the Kanima and its master are bonded, we can communicate with both of them with only one of them there," Deaton explained as he reached for a jar of some sort of black powder. "Get the Kanima trapped as the Kanima and if you tranquilize him enough to switch back to Jackson—maybe we can get in touch with his master."

Judging by Scott's apprehensive face, I knew I wasn't the only one confused. Deaton left briefly to retrieve a small vial and a few syringes and needles. "Ketamine should do the trick. But, it's vital you trap the Kanima before he shifts back to Jackson."

This started to feel out of my scope of practice. There was no way I could even begin to lure Jackson into a trap—let alone keep him there.

"Do you think this will actually work?" I asked Scott once we were both in my car. I hadn't bother to start the car as I watched Isaac and Derek disappear into Derek's Camaro.

"It's better than all of other plans we've had so far," Scott countered in an unsure tone. I couldn't argue with that. I mean, I could, but there were other things on my mind. Isaac related things.

"Is Derek always hounding you for information?" I blurted after a few moments of silence.

"Totally," Scott said as I started the car. "Like, all the time. Especially recently." We clicked out seatbelts into place as I moved to back out of the parking spot. "He's like a clingy ex-girlfriend sometimes," he admitted.

I let out a short laugh before turning out onto the main highway and toward Scott's house. "I think Isaac was getting close to me just to spy."

"What makes you think that?"

"He asked if we really kidnapped Jackson, then Boyd asked me a thousand questions about Jackson, and then not even 5 minutes later, Isaac is asking me about Jackson again," I explained, switching lanes. "Is that not suspicious as hell?"

"I mean, anybody associated with Derek is automatically suspicious," Scott agreed. A distasteful frown morphed its way on to my face. Scott must've felt my disdain when he stuttered out his next words. "B-But not Isaac. He's…different?"

I glanced over at Scott who also he didn't look like he believed in his own words. "Listen," he sighed as we were paused at a light. "Maybe he was getting in your head, but it had to be under Derek's orders. And we're all doing this to keep anyone else from dying."

That was a really good, airtight point. Too bad my gut still wasn't completely satisfied with that. "I hope you're right."

"If I'm not, I owe Isaac an ass kicking as soon as all of this is over."

A warm feeling came over my chest at that. The words I really wanted to hear. You're too good for this world, Scotty."

The day Matt returned to school after the library incident, I was stuck on driving duty for the day and Dad didn't want Matt to take his old bike. I parked closest to the school as humanly possible and scanned the area for Stiles and Scott. "How long do you think we'll be suspended after what happened the other day?" Matt asked as we both headed toward the school.

I shrugged my shoulders silently. Come to think of it, the school hadn't come into contact with us after the incident. That might have had something to do with Stiles forging a report about how someone broke into the school library and trashed it. Man, he's going to make a great felon one day. "I'm not sure. I haven't heard anything from anyone since it happened so maybe we got off scot free."

"That's weird," Matt mumbled as he paused his walking as I brushed past him to greet Scott and Stiles who were deep in a conversation.

"There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott asked with a hopeful tone.

"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's a secret," Stiles argued.

"Are you guys talking about that drug-free rave?" I asked, butting into their conversation. Both boys snapped their heads toward and down at me in unison.

"You have tickets?" Stiles asked, dramatically gripping my shoulders with both his hands.

I shook my head and held up my index finger. "Just one for me. Matt gave it as an apology," I said.

"Do you know where we can get two?"

"It's a secret remember," I reiterated. Stiles let go of my shoulders and threw his head back in a dramatic groan. I laughed at his expense and looked to Scott. "Why are you guys suddenly so interested in a secret rave?"

Scott opened his mouth to answer me, but immediately looked over and past me distractedly before answering. "Jackson is supposed to be there. We think it might be the only time to trap him before he kills someone else."

"Hey," Matt greeted as he walked up behind me, "either of you guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?"

"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt," Stiles answered in a bitter tone.

"I—I had a concussion."

"Well, nobody got seriously hurt," Stiles corrected, adjusting his grip on his backpack.

"I was in the E.R. for six hours."

"Hey, do you want to know the truth, Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now," he argued, holding his hand barely an inch from the ground. I scoffed and lifted Stiles up by the ear and lead him into the entrance of the school, earning a few looks and laughs. "Let go, let go, let go, let go," he quickly pleaded as we finally made our way to my locker. Once I finally let go, I glared at him as I let my backpack "accidentally" landed on his foot. "Ow!" he yelped.

I silently lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, I didn't seriously hurt you, did I?"

Stiles took a warning half step back and tightened the grip on his backpack. Oh, do I miss the days of making Stiles nervous.

I bent down to open my backpack and grabbed a couple of books and waited for Stiles to explain himself. After a few beats of silence, he finally blurted out; "I don't like him."

I slammed my locker door shut, which in turn made him jump. "That's not a real excuse, Stilinski."

"It could be if you let it!" He argued. Too bad it wasn't a very valid argument. We headed to Scott's locker in forced silence. I felt Stiles look over at me every now again to see of my bitch face had faltered. Fortunately, the time spent with Miguel recently had increased my time for bitch face.

"Hey, are you sure about this?" Stiles asked once we reached Scott who was putting things away in his own locker.

"Almost positive," Scott replied in a low voice. "The last time the Kanima struck it didn't finish the job. So, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he to, so what do you think he's going to do this time?"

"Be there to make sure it happens," Stiles clarified.

"Exactly, which is why we need the tickets for the rave, Charlie," Scott finished.

"Like I said," I shrugged. "Matt got it for me and he was pretty clear about no plus ones."

Scott sighed and closed the door to his locker and leaned against it. "It would help if you were a litter nicer to him," he said looking pointedly at Stiles.

Stiles fidgeted under the looks Scott and I were sending him and threw his arms up in defense. "Hey, I'm trying!"

Meet me, Charlotte Lynn Daehler, the ambassador (read as am-badass-or) of Scallison. Yep, it's my new title since Allison texted me saying she needed a lookout so she and Scott could talk. Honestly, she could have texted Scott herself, but this way is more fun. Plus, I have an excuse to wear sunglasses indoors which is always cool. It kinda worries me that there's always an empty classroom for these two to recon during classes though. Admittedly, they've been in there for a while now, but it's cool because it gave me time to beat my Angry Birds score and to give Stiles the silent treatment for blatantly being a dick to my brother.

I'm sorry.

Almost automatically, I swiped the message away from Isaac and continued my game in peace.

Derek made me do it.

I lingered on the text this time before deciding to swipe it away again.

I didn't want to.

With an angry huff, I forced closed Angry Birds and began typing a message back to Isaac.

I don't want to hear it.

I know. I just wanted you to know that it wasn't completely my fault.

I'm not interested in having this conversation.

Could you just hear me out, please?

What's there to say? Sorry I lead you on? Sorry to make you think I had feelings for you? Sorry for gaslighting you? I told you I'm not interested in having this conversation with you. Please don't waste anymore of my time.

"What do you think you're doing?"

An angry glare was painted over my face when I jerked my head up to see who interrupted my texting. I was met with angry, light eyes that belonged to no other than Victoria Argent. My stomach instantly locked my phone and hid it behind my back as if that would undo the damage of getting caught.

"Uh…"

Riveting, I know, right?

"Get to class, Miss. Daehler," she ordered with an air of authority. I stared at her as I pocketed my phone and walked tentatively away from the door of the classroom. I crossed my fingers in hopes she wouldn't notice that I was watching out for Scott and Allison. Mrs. Argent and I had yet to break eye contact the entire time despite the fact that I had left to go to class.

"Go!" She yelled. My eyes widened as I promptly left to my next class. It's official; I have a pathological fear of all the Argents.

There wasn't enough time in the world to prepare me for another night of Kanima hunting, but here I was in Stiles's Jeep on the way to the rave. This was supposed to be a fun night. One night where I didn't have to worry about what Jackson was going to do next. I even got a free ticket. And here I am in the thick of things again. How can one hate being useful and hate being involved at the same time?

Once we pulled up at the back of the venue, Scott turned around in his seat to brief me on the plan.

"Charlie," Scott finished. "Whatever you do, stay close to me or Isaac and yell if you need anything, got it?"

I made a disapproving noise at the mention of Isaac and crossed my arms. "Got it," I muttered.

"Hey, I know you're mad at him right now, but, tonight we're all on the same team," Scott reminded in a soft voice.

I looked over at Scott and shook my head. "I hate it when you're right," I said in a clearer voice this time. Scott seemed satisfied with that and got out the car.

"This is officially the worst plan ever," I said once Scott exited the Jeep and disappeared from view. I'm pretty sure I'm only saying that because I have no idea how helpful mountain ash and ketamine will be against a real life killing machine. But, again, doing something is better than doing nothing. Stiles and I both began unloading the stuff from the back of his Jeep.

"Hey, at least I have the pleasure of sprinkling magical fairy dust around an entire building and believe enough so it'll work to keep a giant lizard and his master stuck," he snapped sarcastically as he slammed the back of his Jeep shut.

I ignored his tone and squinted my eyes in thought as he began planning with the zipper of his hoodie. "What's wrong?"

"I just told you what's wrong."

"C'mon, Stiles, being in a bad mood is my thing. You were quiet the whole way here and I know it's not just because of the mountain ash," I noted. "You know I'm still not mad at you, right? I just really like messing with you because you make it super easy," I boasted with a grin on my face.

"My dad got fired," Stiles blurted, finally standing still for a moment.

Instantly, my grin fell off my face before I repeated his words. "Fired?"

"Yep," he com firmed, popping the p. "Leave of absence, let go, laid off permanently, whatever you wanna call it," he shrugged sadly.

"Did he say why?" Stiles gestured to himself silently with a pointed look on his face.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not your fault."

"Technically speaking it's Derek's—er, Peter's actually," I said in a light tone. "Does that make it any better?"

Stiles put his index finger and thumb together so there was a small gap showing. "But I can't kick any dumb werewolf ass so what's the point, you know?"

"Scott could."

"Maybe," he agreed, turning his attention to the ground.

"Hey," I called out. Stiles made eye contact with me again before I continued. "We're gonna figure this whole thing out. We're gonna figure out a way to not kill Jackson or his master. And then were gonna map out a way to tell your dad this so he can be reinstated."

"How?"

"Seriously, Stiles you're one of the smartest people I know hands down. Except that one time you ate that jar of jalapeños as a dare," I added. Not pretty. "We'll figure this out one way or another."

Stiles stared at me with a small smile before laughing softly. "Thanks, Daehler," he said as he stood up a bit straighter.

"No problem," I assured. I pointed behind and begin walking backwards. "Duty calls."

"Hey, be careful in there!"

Without turning back around, I half waved. "Always am!" Once I made it past the bouncer, the music instantly droned out any other noise unless someone was directly in personal space and yelling. The feeling was kind of nice, honestly. Made me wish I wasn't here under supernatural duties. I set my phone on vibrate and set out to look for Jackson. Hopefully the plan would go smoothly tonight and he could be saved. I'm not so sure about whoever's controlling him because we haven't thought that far ahead. One step at a time, I guess.

I was brought out of my thoughts when someone roughly brushed past me. I whipped around to tell them to shove it, but held my tongue when I realized who it was.

Harris.

And, oh, his date who did definitely not look twenty-one.

I silently lifted an eyebrow waiting for an explanation but got nothing but a gaping, silent Chemistry teacher. He walked away while pulling the blonde behind him shortly after our stare off. I definitely have homework covered for the rest of the year.

In hopes of getting a better view, I headed to the bar. I took a seat on the bar stool and began scanning the venue for any signs of Jackson. A sour look washed across my face when I saw Isaac and Erica dancing awfully close. Before for either one them could notice I was staring, I stood up on the barstool to get an even better view.

"Hey, get down from there!"

Ignoring the protest from the bartender, I noted that the first person I saw was Scott. We locked eyes for a moment before a distracted look came over his face. He mouthed some words I couldn't make out and wiggled his way out of the crowd and out of the building. The sounds of encouragement from the crowd quickly followed.

"Jump!"

"Hell yeah! Crowdsurfing!"

"Jump on the bass drop!"

"Do it!"

"Jump!"

This time, the side effect of jumping didn't have the huge risk of dying involved. But it did have the risk of getting kicked out. This was proven to be true as I saw security now heading toward me.

Quickly, I caught the eye of Erica and Isaac and pointed out Jackson before jumping into the crowd. Was it on the bass drop? No, well, maybe. Who needs rhythm anyway? Surfing throughout the crowd felt weirdly freeing. I only had one job. It was nice despite hands being everywhere.

"Over there!" I yelled over the music as I pointed to the direction of Jackson. The crowd luckily moved me over to his direction. Which was how I found myself now piggybacking Jackson again. Much to my confusion, Jackson was completely unreactive to the added weight on his back. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and neck and decided to push my luck. "Do you wanna go someplace quiet?" I said in an awkward, seductive voice. Security was still searching for me and I knew we didn't have much time.

My question seemed to snap Jackson out of his trance. And I mean snapped. He instantly dropped me and I just barely managed to catch myself. He whipped around to confront me. "Charlie?"

As if on cue, Erica grabbed Jackson's wrist and twirled him around as an invitation to dance. Jackson went back to his trance-like state as Isaac backed Erica up. I wordlessly handed off the two extra bottles of ketamine to Isaac as my phone began to ring.

I checked the caller ID and saw it was Stiles and put the phone up to my ear. "Go for Charlie."

"Char, hey! What's up?" He greeted in a strained, high pitched voice. Hearing the tone on his voice, I scanned the club for the back exit to avoid security and headed there. The sound of gunshots stopped me in tracks as soon as the fire exit door shut behind me. "Charlie?" I decided that the gunshots could wait and knew that Stiles was more important.

"Hey, Stiles," I greeted even though it came out more like a question. "What's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing really. No big deal. Just, uh, I have about 50 feet of coverage left and no more mountain ash," he explained in a quick manner. "So, yeah I don't have any idea what to do."

"For starters, stop pacing. That's not helping," I instructed. A flash of confusion came and left on his face until he began searching for me while the phone was still pressed to his ear. Once he spotted me, we hung up our phones and met by the large gap.

"One thing," he sighed once I was standing in front of him.

"What?"

"I had one thing to do and I couldn't even do that. Something as simple as putting powder around a building and I can't even do that," he vented, running a hand over his head and through his hair.

I was more than positive that this had something to do with the talk we had earlier. His morale was obviously low and hopefully I could fix it. Silently, I kicked a pebble on the ground before sighing myself. I took his phone from his hand and dropped it in his jacket pocket before taking both of his hands in mine. "You remember what Deaton said about being the spark, Stiles, right?"

"Yeah, force of will," he replied with a frown on his face.

"Right, so be that spark, Stiles," I reiterated, squeezing his hands for emphasis. Stiles shut his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows. My guess was that he was trying to concentrate, but I imagine that's rather difficult with a brawl between werewolves and guns going on around the corner. I watched as his lips began twitching until he licked them quickly. Unfortunately, there was still a gap so I took in a deep breath and made my next bold move. I moved our hands so they were laying on my waist and stood on the tips of my toes.

"What are you doi-"

I closed the gap between our lips before he could even finish his inevitable question. Stiles's first reaction was absolutely nothing until there a light bulb went off in the boy's head. He finally moved his lips against mine and pulled me closer to cup my face with his left hand. Is it weird that I felt an actual spark? Maybe not a spark, but more of a warm feeling. A very warm feeling. Does that come with the mountain ash? Our mouths moved together for another brief moment until I removed his hand from face and took a step back from him so only our hands were joined once again. I looked over to the line of mountain ash to see that it finally completed itself.

A huge grin slowly spread on his face once he realized what he accomplished. "Oh, my god—it worked!" He shouted, doing an awful victory dance. Once he settled down, he smiled down at me. "Thank you."

I couldn't help but to smile back. I also found myself staring at Stiles's lips again. I never noticed how full they were until tonight. And this was a much different experience than the one in third grade.

"Earth to Charlie!"

I snapped back to my normal self when I realized I was still staring and smiling at Stiles. I sobered up and remembered what we were here for. "Right! It's time to go kick some Kanima ass."

I didn't take the time to analyze Stiles's face as the blush was quickly taking over my face. Instead we headed back around the building and came in through the back way. We eventually found the door we were looking for and I cringed as Stiles came busting through it. "Us! It's just us. Don't freak out," he exclaimed defensively. Erica and Isaac stood down when we all turned to see an eerily calm Jackson sitting in a chair. "Is he okay?"

"Well," Isaac began as he shifted his fingernails into razor sharp claws in one swift motion. "Let's find out."

"Isaac, I don't think—"

Erica was interrupted by the Jackson's tail whipping Isaaac so hard that he hit the back wall. Concrete, I might add.

"God," Isaac winced.

"Jackson?" Stiles asked, squatting eye level to the Jackson/Kanima hybrid. "Is that you?"

"Us," it replied in the strangest voice I've ever heard. It sounded like Jackson and at the same time—nothing like him. "We're all here."

"Are you the one killing people?"

"We are the ones killing murderers."

"So all the people you've killed so far—"

"Deserved it."

"See, we got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers."

"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied."

"Oh," I mumbled under my breath. In the corner of my eye, I saw Isaac look over at me. I frowned as I tried to remember where I heard that saying before. I met Isaac's gaze who looked confused as ever. I waved him off in response and glanced over at Erica who looked just as lost as Isaac. Fortunately, Stiles was unaware of the silent exchange and continued interrogating Jackson. "Well, who did they murder?"

"Me," Jackson grunted. "And Charlie."

I looked around as if there was another Charlie in the room before lazily giving up. "What the hell does that mean?"

"They murdered me," he snapped. "They murdered you."

I took a few silent steps back and opened my mouth to speak. I shut it realizing I want going to get any answers from my inevitable questions. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't remember being murdered as of late."

"They murdered us!" He growled as his eyes transformed into their lethal slits.

"Okay, all right," Stiles jumped. "More ketamine. The man needs ketamine. Come on," he demanded, his hand out stretched to Isaac.

Isaac looked to me as I shrugged and patted my pockets. "We don't have anymore," he confirmed.

"You used all the bottles?" He scolded, glaring at Isaac. "Um, okay. Everybody out."

Everyone brushed past me as I silently eyed Jackson who was slowly but surely turning into the Kanima. I was trying to decide the whole I-was-murdered thing. A pair of hands interrupted my thoughts as they roughly guided me out the door. "Go, go, go, go," Isaac rushed.

Once we were all safely in the other side of the door, we leaned against it in a feeble attempt to keep Jackson in.

"Okay, find something to move in front of the door," Stiles huffed. Not a second later, Jackson, in full blown Kanima, came busting through the wall. "Uh, okay, new plan. Charlie, come with me outside so we can make sure Jackson or his master can't get out, okay?"

I nodded silently and moved to stand behind Stiles. "Erica, Isaac you guys stay here and—"

"Got it," Isaac interrupted, grabbing Erica by the wrist and dragging her behind him.

Once Stiles and I were outside, I silently kicked a rocked and kept my hands deep in my pockets. Stiles was checking his phone to see if he'd gotten anything from Scott who had disappeared. "You heard anything from Scott?"

I shook my head as I continued kicking around the rock. I had so many questions bouncing around in my head. It was unfair that they were unanswered.

"You okay?" He asked, pocketing his phone. "I only ask because you've had this look on your face ever since we talked to Jackson and whoever's controlling him."

I stopped kicking and looked over at him. "What are you talking about, Stiles," I sighed. I already knew what he was talking about. I was thinking entirely too hard about what just happened.

He walked over to clarify. "This," he vaguely answered as he awkwardly gestured to my face. "You look worried, but at the same time very confused and kinda anxious," he explained. That sounds like what I'm feeling most of the time. He took another step toward me and placed his hand gently on my face. "All I'm saying is that you should relax." He softly rubbed where eyebrows were furrowed until I relaxed my face. "We'll figure it out so don't worry, okay?" he concluded, removing his hand from my face. "And yes, I'm recycling the advice you gave me earlier so deal with it."

I chuckled softly and took a deep breath. "Thanks, Stilinski."

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but he clearly got distracted when he looked up and past me. I turned around to see Derek standing on the other side of the mountain ash as us. "What?"

"Break it," Derek demanded.

"What? No way," Stiles yelled.

"Scott's dying!"

"Okay, what?—"

"Stop saying what," I huffed at Stiles. "How do you know Scott's dying?"

"Oh, my God, I just know," Derek barked, growing impatient.

Stiles huffed nervously and broke it the line of ash reluctantly. Derek took off in a rush as sirens began ringing in the distance. I ran a hand threw my hair and looked to Stiles. "I swear to god if any of us comes face to face in another near death situation again, we're all getting Life Alerts, dammit."

And that's the end of Raving! Since I have to rewatch all the episodes written, can I just say that Crystal Reed is an AMAZING crier and that I'm going to miss Allison very dearly. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed it! Review?