A/N: Yes, you've gotten another chapter in the space of 24 hours but please don't get too used to it. If there's one thing I've learnt from all my years writing fanfic, this productive streak won't last. Eventually I'll hit the wall and they'll be a long gap. - However, until then, lets enjoy ourselves.
She Ain't Heavy
Stiles climbed out of Rosco and stared at the school, his heart racing a little with nervous anticipation. He probably should have listened to Derek and spoken to Scott over the weekend, but if he were honest, he wasn't sure he wanted it. He knew he was being stubborn and perhaps a little pig headed about it, but hey, it wasn't like Scott had made any effort to apologize either. No, Scott had just decided to hang out with Isaac instead. He hadn't texted to find out if Stiles was alright. Not once since their fight.
The most painful thing was, the realization that losing Scott's friendship didn't kill him. He's spent half the summer trying to figure out why it didn't feel that his heart had been ripped out. Why seeing him hanging out with Isaac and Danny, didn't leave him feeling broken. He'd thought long and hard about it, lain awake at night rolling the question over him his mind. There were sheets of paper under his bed brainstorming for an answer, and the best he could figure was…. they were never really friends to start with.
Or at least, not the bestest of best friends to ever best friend.
When they'd met back in middle school, they were two broken kids. He'd lost his mom, and his dad in a way. He'd been struggling under the pressure of his secret, and the judgmental eyes of teachers and students. Scott had lost his dad, forced to move to a neighboring town where he knew no one. Awkward and shy, suffering at the hands of asthma and Jackson Whittmore. Two lost kids looking for someone to help them through the day.
It was a heartbreaking realization, but it put everything into perspective. The way Scott hadn't listened to him, had dismissed his warnings and concerns. Hadn't come to him about Gerard Argent or discussed his plan with him. The way finding him, hadn't been Scott's priority when the man had taken him.
Although Stiles can't exactly be the only one throwing stone, can he? He'd kept a pretty massive secret from Scott their entire friendship. Two if you count the name thing. Which is exactly why he'd come to question just how solid his and Scott's friendship actually was. Because he'd told Derek so easily, after only a few weeks. Sure, he'd kind of been found out, but that didn't explain why he'd never told Scott. Scott who was supposed to be his best friend. Scott who he told everything to, - except when he didn't.
The fact was, even the strongest friends could drift apart with age and time. He and Scott were no different. They weren't lost boys any more, Scott had found a place on the lacrosse field and in Deaton surgery, he'd found Allison, if briefly, and Isaac.
While Stiles, he'd found the existence of werewolves and the supernatural. He'd found a surprising enjoyment of hard labour, and the desire to protect the town he loved. He'd found a new friend in Derek.
But most importantly, Stiles had found himself.
The sound of an engine pulled Stiles out of his nervous internal monologue with a start. Twisting his head, his eyes widened as a green dirt bike pulled into a space a few feet away. Stiles frowned at the recognizable grey jacket. Scott had a bike? Since when? How the hell had he convinced Melissa to agree to that?
Scott reached up, pulling off the helmet while still sat astride the machine. Stiles watched him stare up at the school, before Scott sensed his eyes on him and turned. There was a tense moment of recognition across the carpark before Scott gave him a nod and swung his leg over the seat, grabbing his bag from the back, and headed for the steps.
Despite knowing that their friendship wasn't the deep soul connection he'd spent years believing, Stiles still felt the rejection. "Be the bigger man." He heard Derek grumble in his head and inhaled deeply. Surely, they could be friends, if not best friends, right? Stiles asked himself.
Pushing away from Rosco, Stiles adjusted his bag on his shoulder and hurried after Scott. He Scott was already at his locker when Stiles burst through the double door. Glancing around at his fellow juniors, god was he really a junior? Already? Shit. Stiles sort out the rest of their little band. While Scott was shoving his helmet into his locker, and god was Stiles fighting to keep himself from making a joke about that, Lydia and Jackson were leant up against Lydia's locker, arguing. It seems despite their big dramatic reunion, where Lydia's love had literally saved Jackson, and the rest of them, they were back to bickering. And by the way Lydia shrugged off Jackson's touch, well on their way to another break up.
Derek had told him all about the two-month training sessions with a still angry and troubled Jackson, where he help teach him how to control himself, with the help surprisingly from Peter, go figure. Then Jackson's dad had dragged him off to Europe for the summer. Watching Lydia march furiously away from Jackson, Stiles came to the conclusion; absence did not make the heart grow fonder and smirked to himself. If things were crashing between them again, maybe Stiles would finally get a chance to prove himself to Lydia.
Looking back over to Scott's locker, he found his ex-best friend gone and sighed. He rushed to his own locker and shoved his backpack inside, grabbing the books he was going to need for his first class, then hurried down the hall.
Stepping into the room his eyes instantly sort out Scott, as they always did. Taking the seat behind him, Stiles watched the back of his head, foot tapping anxiously at the leg of his desk. He glanced around as the rest of the class piled in, taking their seats and muttering to one another about their summers. There was no sign of Allison, the seat in front of Scott's empty.
Twisting his head, he looked at the three empty seats in the back corner, where Isaac, Boyd and Erica would sit, and felt his chest tighten. They'd looked everywhere over the summer, but other than the cellphone Derek had found, there was no sign of the werewolves. Frowning, Stiles leant forward, taking a breath before asking, "Is Isaac not coming to school?"
Scott turned, looking at him with surprise, eyes flickering over to Isaac's empty seat, then back to Stiles, shrugging. "I haven't seen him since Saturday night," he didn't sound happy about that, "I assumed he'd gone back to Derek."
The way he said Derek's name made Stiles clench his teeth. He gave Scott a nod and settled back in his seat as Scott turned back to face the front of the class. So much for fixing things, Stiles thought. Reaching for his cell, Stiles quickly typed out a message to Derek
Is Isaac at the house?
Surprisingly, he didn't have to wait long for an answer.
No. Why?
Shifting uncomfortably, Stiles looked at the classroom door, then Scott's head, then back to the cell. Swallowing against the sudden lump of fear.
He's not in school and Scott says he hasn't spoken to him since Saturday night.
The new incoming text wasn't a reply from Derek however. Stiles frowned down confused at the screen, along with every other member of his class.
The offing was barred by a black bank of clouds and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost….
Stiles looked up from the message as a dark haired woman strolled in, "…. ends of the earth flowed somber under an overcast sky seemed to lead into the heart of an immense darkness. This is the last line to the first book we're going to read." she smiled at them, lifting her phone, "It is also the last text you will receive in this class. Phones off."
Staring at the woman for a long moment, Stiles decided he didn't like her. What kind of person stole a someone's ability to communicate with the outside world? What if there was an emergency? What if there was a tsunami or a terrorist attack? What if the government needed to send out a 4-minute warning? He couldn't just turn off his phone like that, it was important. Lifting his eyes to the woman he gritted his teeth and he reluctantly turned off the cell, catching a glance of an incoming message a split second before the screen went blank. Evil, he decided with a grunt. That was what she was. Pure evil.
The classroom fell silent as the new teacher fully introduced herself and told them what they were going to be doing, before turning to scribble across the blackboard.
Stiles leg bounced beneath his desk as he scribbled a note, eyes flickering up to check that Ms Blake, their new English teacher wasn't watching him, before tossing it forward onto Scott's desk. He watched anxiously as his ex-best friend read it, but before he could get an answer, Ms Blake's smooth soft voice cut through the silence.
"Mr. McCall?" she wiggled her finger, summoning Scott to the front of class.
Stiles frowned, sharing a look with the werewolf as he gathered his things, shrugging. Ms Blake led Scott outside and Stiles strained his hearing to listen.
"I'm sure it's an emergency if your mother need you to leave school,"
Stiles frowned, sitting up alert. An emergency? With Melissa?
"but I'm gonna give you a warning in the nicest possible way. I am well aware of your attendance record. I don't wanna see you slip back into old habits."
"I won't. It's gonna be different this year." Scott insisted, and he sounded determined.
"Resolutions are only good if you stick with them, Scott." Ms Blake replied, and Stiles couldn't help the way his fingers tightened around his pen defensively.
She had no idea what Scott had been through last year, what they'd all been through.
"I will." Scott promised, a smile in his voice. "I promise it won't be ephemeral."
Stiles frowned, Ephemeral? Where the hell did Scott learn that? Had he eaten a dictionary for breakfast? Stiles snorted to himself, once upon a time, he might have actually been able to convince Scott to do that.
He heard Scott's footsteps leading away from the classroom and considered risking Ms Blake's wrath by texting to check everything was alright with Melissa. They may not be friends right now, but Melissa had been the closest thing to a mother he'd had the past seven years, he'd hate for anything to happen to her.
Regretfully before he could get his phone out, Ms Blake was back in the class and looking at them all suspiciously, her eyes settling on him before she turned back to the blackboard. With a heavy sigh, Stiles glanced at Lydia in the seat beside him, the morning sunlight creating a halo through her strawberry blonde hair, perfect as always. His gaze flickered over her and he frowned at the sight of a large Band-Aid on her ankle. "Hey, Lydia?" he whispered, calling her attention.
She looked over with that trademark put upon look, "What?"
"What is that?" He asked quietly, pointing down to the injury.
Lydia flushed slightly, shifting her ankle to cover the Band-Aid with her other leg. Her eyes flickered over to the teacher and Stiles expected her to ignore him, as she'd done since 8th grade. "Prada bit me." she eventually replied.
Stiles frowned, "Your dog?"
"No, my designer handbag?" Lydia rolled her eyes, going back to her school work.
"Has it ever bitten you before?"
Lydia stilled for a moment, then shook her head.
Stiles stared past her as his head began to spark to life, shuffling through information. On Friday evening, on the drive home from Derek's, Stiles had come across a car accident. Being the civic minded young man, or nosy, you know, whatever, he'd stopped. What he'd found when he'd climbed out of his jeep was a young couple, shaking with shock. The front window of their car had been violently decorated with a deer. Apparently, according to the couple, the deer in question had ran directly at them, breaking through the glass and missing the driver by mere inches. The creature hadn't died on impact and it was still whining in pain when his dad arrived and put the thing out of its misery.
It was such a strange occurrence that it had instantly plucked at Stiles curiosity, and he'd still been researching similar incidence that morning when his dad had dragged him away from his computer and demanded he go to school.
And now Lydia's previously docile dog was taking bites out of her. His instincts said there was something happening, something…coming. Something…bad. However, his rational mind said it could just be a coincidence, He hadn't found any other suicidal animals accidents online, so yeah coincidence.
The sound of something hitting the window had Stiles heart skipping a beat and his spine straightening. He refocused, his gut rebelling at the sight of blood, feathers and god he didn't want to think about what else, painting the glass. Ms Blake went over to the window, and Stiles stretching to see what the woman was staring at.
Another bird hit the glass, followed by another. Again, and again until eventually the thin pane couldn't take it and shattered. Crows filled the room, screaming and flying head first into walls. A few dove at his fellow students and Stiles threw himself over Lydia, hand pressing into her head, forcing it low, ducking his own head close.
It felt like an eternity before the deafening roar of flapping wings and high pitch squawking stopped. Breathless and shaking, Stiles pulled himself up straight, looking around at the river of dead birds carpeting the classroom floor. Blood coating the walls.
Three's a pattern.
_(*-*)_/
Derek paced the den, teeth biting at the inside of his cheek. He'd allowed himself to believe that Isaac wasn't in danger, that he was safe, even if it wasn't under Derek's roof. He'd apparently been a fool. "Dammit." he growled furiously, marching over to the window. He'd begun to convince himself that Boyd and Erica's disappearance really was just two teenagers running away from the danger he'd dragged them into, now though…. - If whatever had taken his betas was coming after Isaac, it was personal. It had to be personal. An attack on him.
But from who? Derek wasn't fool enough to think he hadn't made enemies, life in New York hadn't been as simple as Beacon Hills. Urban packs could be both more and less territorial. There were multiple packs living in the city, scratching out their own small corners, and they defended them fiercely. However, there were also vastly welcoming. When he'd met Clay on his first day at Colombia, he'd expected a battle for dominance and control of campus, what he'd found was an approachable young man eager to make friends and deathly loyal. He was also a determined matchmaker as both he and Nick…
Shaking his head, he forced himself to forget the past and focus of the present. There was a threat, and Isaac was the latest victim. He had to talk to Scott, find out all he could about Isaac's routine over the past two months. It twisted painfully in his gut that he had to rely on an omega for information about his own Beta.
Derek was shrugging into his jacket at the door when his phone rang and he hurriedly yanked it free of his pocket, inhaling a breath at the unknown number. "Hello?" he said cautiously.
"Mr. Hale? This is Beacon Hills Hospital."
Derek sucked in a breath, "Yes?"
"We have you as the emergency contact for Isaac Lahey."
He hurried out the door, pulling it closed behind him as he answered, "Yes? What's happened to him?" Panic settled in his chest.
"He was involved in an accident in the early hours of this morning," the nurse said, sounding apologetically.
This morning? "Is he okay?" Derek demanded, climbing into the Camaro and starting the engine.
"He's still conscious, the doctor can explain everything more clearly in person."
"I'm on my way, thank you."
He sped to the hospital, not much caring if he got pulled over. It wasn't just the fact that Isaac was injured that had him breaking traffic laws, there was also the concern of an eagle-eyed doctor noticing Isaac was healing a little too quickly and would inevitably start poking around. He had no idea if Melissa McCall was on duty.
He pulled into the carpark twenty minutes later and ran inside. The nurse at the front desk smiled at him with far too many teeth than would be considered appropriate in the circumstances and informed him that Isaac was down the hall in room 418. He grunted a polite thanks and hurried past the bustling staff.
He turned the corner that would take him to 418 and drew to a halt, frowning as he saw a woman with dark hair pushing an unconscious Isaac out of the room in a wheelchair. One sniff of the air told him she wasn't human. She caught his scent too, turning to fix him with a blue-eyed gaze, before turning quickly away, pushing Isaac at speed down the corridor.
Derek took off after her. At the end of the hall the elevator doors opened, and his heart stuttered at the sight of Melissa McCall, her gaze flickering between Isaac and the woman pushing him.
The strange werewolf, shoved hard at Melissa with the wheelchair, knocking her back into the elevator, before reaching over to hit the button to close the doors. Pushing himself harder, Derek increased his speed and just managed to skim between the closing doors.
Getting to his feet he turned to meet the werewolf. She was younger up close, the same age as Isaac himself at a guess, but that wasn't going to stop Derek ripping her throat out. He stepped forward, teeth bared and claws ready to tear through flesh.
He crouched low, prepared to attack, unsurprised when she mirrored his stance, her eyes flashing blue. "Who are you?" Derek growled at her.
She didn't reply, choosing instead to attack, flying forward to swipe her claws across his chest. He leapt out of the way, twisting his whole body so that she slammed into the back wall of the elevator. While his attacker regained her footing, Derek glanced over to Melissa, reassuring himself she was alright, the last thing he wanted was to have to tell Scott she'd been injured, or worse.
Melissa looked up at him with a fearful gaze, chest heaving. Derek shot a meaningful look to Isaac and she nodded, then he turned back to face his opponent. He was too slow, and a set of claws sliced through his sides. He threw back his head and let out a loud roar of pain, pulling Isaac from his unconscious state, eyes flashing gold and features shifted.
Isaac leapt to his feet, rushing at the girl, slamming her into the wall so hard it cracked. Derek joined him, wrapping his fingers tight around the girl's throat, his claws piercing the skin. "Who are you?" he demanded, red eyes flashing.
She narrowed her eyes him, jaw rebelliously poking out and Derek inhaled sharply, hand pulling away as if burnt and his head span from the shock.
"Derek?" Isaac snarled, looking at him confused.
"Cora?" Derek whispered, leaning his face closer, green eyes searching the altered features.
The girl's blue eyes flickered back to green for a second and her brows furrowed, mirroring Derek's confusion. Then the elevator doors swept open and she kicked violently at Isaac's knee, breaking the bone and causing the werewolf to crumple to the ground. She gave Derek one last look before sprinting out of the elevator.
Derek took a step forward to follow her, but the sound of Isaac's pained cry at his feet stilled him. Looking back to Melissa who had crawled over to examine Isaac's broken leg. Derek look back to where the girl had vanished, his eyes burning with tears, a thousand and one questions whirling around his head.
"Derek?"
He turned, nodding as he crouched to scoop up Isaac. "Are you alright?" he asked Melissa solemnly.
"Yes. - He needs surgery." Melissa informed him, looking at the exposed bone.
Derek swallowed his pounding heart and shook his head, "He'll be fine." he informed her, turning with the teenager.
_(*-*)_/
Stiles perched on the edge of his desk, phone in hand while his dad moved between small groups of students and parents, attempting to reassure them. EMT's were treating the ones with the worst injuries. As far as anyone was concerned it was a freak incident. Ms Blake, was sat on her desk staring into the space, feathers poking out of her hair and white as a sheet.
He looked down at his cell, fingers moving to open the messages from Derek he'd ignored in preference to calling his dad and telling him about the freak crow attack at the school.
I'll look into it. Was Derek's first message, sent almost an hour ago now. It was soon followed by another just ten minutes later.
Isaac's at the hospital. I'm heading there now.
The final one was sent only thirty minutes ago, while they were all trying not to have their eyes pecked out.
Isaac's fine, but I need to talk to you. Come to the house as soon as you can.
Stiles frowned, "Shit, what now?" he muttered under his breath.
"Stiles?" his dad asked, looking down at him, "You alright?"
Stiles shoved his phone in his pocket and nodded, "Well considering I was just in the middle of a mass avian suicide, I'm surprisingly alright."
His dad stared at him, the small vain in his temple popping out. It only did that when he was really worried, and Stiles felt his heart swell, "I'm fine Dad. A couple of scratches." he held up his hand, but it was already clear. Werewolves weren't the only ones that healed quickly.
His dad looked at the hand for a long moment, that shadow passing over his features once again, the one that said he was thinking of his dead wife and what Stiles was. "Are you okay to get home?"
Stiles chewed at his lower lip and nodded, "Yeah." he turned to see Lydia being comforted by Jackson. "I'll see you later then." he said, getting to his feet.
"Yeah."
There was a tense moment before Stiles was pulled into a tight embrace. He buried his face into his dad's shoulder and took a deep breath, then stepped back and headed for the door.
Stiles pulled up outside Derek house twenty minutes later, just as Scott's bike roared to a stop next to him. Shoving open the door, he frowned, "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you same," Scott huffed, his tone sharp and accusing. Like Stiles had no right to be at the house he'd helped rebuild.
Be the bigger man. He reminded himself. "Is your mom alright?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"No thanks to Derek?" Scott grunted.
"What?"
"There was an attack at the hospital, someone tried to grab Isaac."
Stiles worriedly started towards the house, "Did they hurt Melissa?" he asked over his shoulder.
"She's got a couple of bruised shins and a slight concussion."
"Thank god," Stiles said, hurrying up the porch steps, and bursting through the front door without bothering to knock. "Derek?"
"Up here!"
Stiles took the stairs up to the first floor two at a time, "Marco!" he called at the top,
"Polo!" Derek called back from the room to his left and Stiles headed straight for it.
"Hey, wow, is he okay?" Stiles asked, wincing as he stared at Isaac stretched out on the bed Derek picked for him, a body sheet beneath his legs.
"He'll be fine, he's healing, finally." Derek sighed, straightening. "We need to…" he trailed off as his gaze drifted passed Stiles. "Scott?"
"Derek." Scott greeted through gritted teeth.
"How's your mom?"
"She'll be fine. What happened? Who was that girl and what did she want with Isaac?" Scott demanded angrily, eyes flickering passed Derek to the bed, before turning back to the alpha accusingly.
Stiles hated tension at the best of times, the suffocating pressure building right there between Scott and Derek was making him almost breathless. "Okay," he interrupted, holding his hands up, "How about we take this downstairs and let Isaac recover."
Neither werewolf moved, and Stiles sighed, looking to the heavens for mercy, "Derek." he said finally, wrapping his fingers around the alpha's bicep and giving him a tug that had the man stumbling forward a step.
With a deep sigh of surrender, Derek led the way out of the room and down to the den, where he positioned himself, arms folded over his chest by the fireplace. Stiles followed Scott down, and almost laughed at the defensive posture Derek was showing, but then consider Scott's attitude and decided Derek was right to be on guard.
"So?" Scott growled, stopping a few feet into the doorway, and tossed his helmet onto the couch.
Stiles gritted his teeth, and moved over to perch on the arm, lifting the mud splattered thing off the couch and placing it on the coffee table.
"I think you're forgetting who you're talking to," Derek warned, and Stiles watched him. Whatever patience and understanding Derek had for the younger werewolf was gone.
"You're not my alpha," Scott reminded him sharply.
"No," Derek nodded in agreement, "but I am Isaac's, and this is my house, so I suggest you rethink that tone."
Stiles looked over at Scott, his ex-friend's lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes burning gold as they stared back at Derek, which instantly had Derek flashing his own coloured irises.
"Woah, woah, woah," Stiles said hurriedly, stepping into the middle of the room. "Let's lower the wattage shall we. Scott, I know your mom raised you better than that,"
Scott shot him a betrayed look and Stiles glared. "Who attacked my mom?" he demanded loudly, turning to Derek. "She said you knew her."
Stiles turned his head to look at Derek, watching as the alpha turned his back to them, shoulders slumping. "Derek?"
"She's…" his inhaled deeply, head twisting to glance at Stiles over his shoulder. "…my sister."
Stiles frowned, "What?"
"Your sister?" Scott gasped, "But I thought everyone was…"
"So, did I." Derek breathed, padding over to drop down on the couch, his head falling into his hands, when he looked up his eyes had a distinctive shimmer to them. "We were told that Peter was the only one to survive. They had bodies, eight bodies. Everyone was accounted for, I don't…"
Stiles sighed, "Let's face it, the investigation wasn't particularly well done, was it? Maybe someone was bought off."
Derek looked at him, "Bought off?"
Stiles shrugged, "To cover up a kidnapping." the moment he said it, he wished he hadn't. The look that appeared on Derek's face at the thought of someone kidnapping his little sister ripped into Stiles chest. "I'm sorry, Derek." he said softly.
"Why would she attack Isaac?" Scott asked, voice quiet, "She here after revenge?"
"Revenge?" Derek frowned,
"Well you know," Scott looked between the alpha and Stiles, "For not saving her. For creating a new pack."
Stiles head snapped around just in time to watch Derek shatter, and without really thinking about it, he marched over to the couch, his hand pressing into the man's shoulder. "We'll just have to find her and find out." he squeezed the firm muscle under his hand.
"And if it is revenge?" Scott asked.
Derek lifted his gaze, fixing the teenager with a hard look. "Then I'll deal with it." there was steel in his voice, and a warning. This wasn't anything to do with Scott, this was pack business. Derek's pack.
Scott clearly understood that too, because his features tightened, and he opened his mouth to argue, when a shaky voice pulled all their attention to stairs.
"Where's the woman?" Isaac asked, looking between them all.
Derek got to his feet instantly, marching over to him. "It's alright, you don't have to worry about her." he reassured firmly, "We'll find her before she can try to take you again."
Isaac stared at him, confused for a few second then shook his head, "Not the girl in the elevator, the one on the bike. The one that saved my life."
A/N: How was that? Feedback is always appreciated.
