Pollo Loco
Stiles and Derek made their way through the halls of Beacon Hills, constantly listening out for those remaining in the building. Stiles prediction of an empty school had been slightly wrong, and they'd pulled outside the school to find two cars still parked. A blue Toyota, that Stiles knew belonged to Mr. Harris, and a red Beetle that he'd come to discover belonged to the new English teacher.
After a few minutes of debate about coming back later, Stiles convinced the alpha that the only person they needed to worry about was the principle and he was gone, taking off for the school before Derek could argue.
They cautiously listened out for any sign of Miss Blake and Harris heading their way, and slipped into the empty principles office, closing the door quietly behind them.
"What are you looking for?" Derek whispered while Stiles made himself comfortable behind the desk, booting up the computer and lifting the name plate from the front of a desk. He smirked over to Derek, waving the underside, "You'd think he'd know better, huh?"
Derek lifted a brow at him, impatiently.
Stiles rolled his eyes and set about logging into the computer, "Danny told me that all the school district computers are connected."
"And?"
"Heather went to St Giles across town, but Thomas was here. I want to see if there's a connection between them."
Derek nodded, looking back at the door while Stiles typed, "Since when were you a computer whiz?" he asked over his shoulder.
Stiles chewed his lip while his fingers flew across the keys, "After what happened with Peter, I decided to branch out, just in case. Danny showed me a few things," he looked up, tapping a finger to the side of his head, "I'm a quick study."
Derek scoffed, strolling over to hover behind Stiles, "Danny huh?"
"Yeah," Stiles muttered distractedly.
Perching on the edge of the principle's desk, Derek stared out over the lacrosse field, the yellow police tape flapping around in the wind. "How are things with Lydia?" he asked and heard the uptick of Stiles heart. He glanced over to find Stiles staring at him, flushed. He licked his lips and turned back to the window, pressing them together.
"Lydia's fine." Stiles finally replied, "Freaked out about finding two dead bodies…"
"Lydia found them?" he asked turning to look at the teenager again, brows furrowed, "Both?"
Stiles shrugged, "Yeah. She just wondered off. - Huh," he grinned, leaning closer to the computer screen. He hummed to himself while Derek watched him, then his eyes widened, and he shook his head, "God no."
"What?" Derek shot off the desk and turned, leaning over Stiles shoulder.
"They were both virgins." Stiles sighed.
"What?"
Stiles poked his finger almost angrily at the screen where Heather Davison's extracurricular activities states she was a member of a purity group, then clicked over to Thomas Kendal's file where he was showing to be the president of his bible group.
"That doesn't prove they were virgins." Derek said reasonably.
"No," Stiles sighed, "It doesn't prove it, but…"
"It could be a religious thing," Derek cut through.
Stiles exhaled a long breath and slumped against the chair. "I guess we'll just have to wait for the next body to show up."
"Next body?"
Stiles looked up at him with tired eyes, "Come on, Derek. This kind of stuff always happens in threes," he exhaled, "first its three virgins, and then, I don't know, three people with little dogs, oh god, Lydia!" Stiles said loudly, eyes widening. "She'd got to get rid of the dog…."
Derek rolled his eyes. "Keep your voice down!" Derek ordered, grabbing the collar of Stiles shirt and yanking him off the chair, "Let's go before someone hears your loud mouth and comes looking."
"But Lydia?"
Derek sighed, "Let's go, Stiles."
Stiles glowered at him, eyes burning into the alpha, before turning back to log out of the Principle's computer. "You really aren't the town bad boy, are you?" he huffed, glancing up with an amused smirk slowly creeping across his face.
"I never said I was." Derek sighed, heading for the door.
"What were you like in High School, Derek?" Stiles asked, switching off the computer and placing the name plate back at the front of the desk. "Come on? Where you the school nerd?" he smirked, "Oh god, were you? Let me guess, President of the chess club? Debate team?" he chuckled, "No, science club,"
His laugh was cut off by Derek's hand. The alpha dragging him back behind the door just as the door opened.
Stiles held his breath, the feel of Derek's calloused fingers against his lips, the alpha's strong arm around his chest, and his breath playing at the short hairs behind Stiles ear. They couldn't see who was on the other side of the door, but a few seconds later the door closed, and Derek's hand fell away from Stiles lips. He exhaled a relieved breath and let his head fall back against Derek's chest. "That was close." he whispered.
"Yeah." Derek sighed, causing goosebumps to burst to life across Stiles body.
Stiles pulled out of Derek's hold and licked at his lips, "We should get out of here. We need to talk to Peter."
Derek frowned, "What? Why?"
"Because the last time Lydia was wondering around with no idea how she got there, was when Peter was doing his resurrection mojo."
Derek stiffened, "You think Peter's behind this?"
"It's Peter." Stiles shrugged.
There was a long pause before Derek finally growled out, "Okay." before pulling open the office door and peering out into the hall.
_(*-*)_/
They pulled into the drive way of the large white house that backed onto a small patch of parkland that had likely been part of the preserve once upon a time. Stiles climbed out of the car and turned his head to stare across the stretch of green. On the far side, just about visible from where he stood, was the row of houses that made up Madoc Street, and if he squinted, he could see Lydia's bedroom window, a shadow moving in front of it.
Turning around he glared at the white house, watching as Derek made his way to the door, knocking hard. Stiles closed the car door and went to join him. After a few moments the door swung open and Peter smiled, looking between them, "And what do I owe this honor?" he asked smoothly.
"We need to talk." Derek said flatly, taking a step and shoving his way into the house.
Peter stepped back and waved an arm, "Oh yes, please do come in nephew." the smile and charming manner was belied by the flash of blue eyes and the slight growl to his tone. He turned to Stiles. "Will you be joining us?"
Stiles huffed, stepping into the house and glaring at the man.
They didn't move any deeper, Derek turning to fix his uncle with a hard-accusing stare. After pushing the door closed, Peter turned, "Well?"
"What do you know about the bodies found at the school?" Derek demanded, eyes flashing in a show of dominance.
Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, marching past Derek and into the large white living room, lowering himself down on the expensive looking couch. He lounged back against the cushions, arms stretched across the back. Derek and Stiles stood in front of him, waiting impatiently.
"I don't know anything about two bodies found at the high school." He replied finally with a dramatic sigh and a flick of his hand.
"We didn't say there were two?" Stiles picked up, narrowing his gaze at the resurrected werewolf.
Peter's head tilted to the side slightly and exhaled, "I saw the news. I do own a television," he nodded behind Derek, and Stiles turned to regard the large flat screen TV bracketed to the wall above the fireplace. "But I have no personal knowledge of these teenagers, or what killed them."
"What, not who?" Stiles asked, brow raised suspiciously.
"If it were a who," Peter said slowly, leaning forward on his knees, "you two wouldn't be here."
Stiles gritted his teeth against the truth of that statement. "What about Lydia?"
Peter stiffened, fixing Stiles with what looked to be a worried stare, "What about her? Is she alright?"
Stiles couldn't hold back the dismissed laugh, "As if you care."
Peter pressed his lips into a fine line, and swallowed, sitting back once more, "Of course I don't care." he muttered, and Stiles frowned at the strained tone.
"She's been wandering off," Derek said, seemingly oblivious to the weirdness in his uncle's tone, "Kind of the same way she was wandering around when she was under your control."
Peter stared at Derek for a long moment, their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills, which filled the room with an almost claustrophobic tension. When Peter finally did reply, his tone was firm and unwavering, "What happened with Lydia while I was dead, had less to do with…what I did, and more to do with what she is."
Stiles frowned, "What she is?"
Peter looked at the teenager, brow raised and shook his head, "I'd have thought you'd have figured it out, curious little shit you are."
"Hey." Derek and Stiles snapped in unison, causing Peter to grin.
He looked between them again, "She's not human."
"What?" Stiles frowned, looking from Peter to Derek, who looked just as surprised.
Peter sighed, "Honestly," he shook his head looking at Derek, "You can't sense it? The power that rolls off her. The scent of death." he sighed, letting his head fall back against the cushion, "You'd make the family so proud,"
"Hey," Stiles grunted, taking a step forward, "Quit with the insults and just tell us."
Peter met Stiles angry gaze, briefly glancing over at Derek. "She's a banshee."
"A banshee?" Stiles and Derek repeated, looking at one another. Stiles glared at Peter, "I know Lydia can be a bit of a… well, a bitch but I think calling her a banshee is unfair."
Rolling his eyes, Peter pushed himself up off the couch and stepped around it, leaving the room. "Come on," he called back at them, and the pair hurried to follow.
Peter led them down into the basement and Stiles smirked at the sight of the bookshelves and the desk.
"Where did you get all these books?" Derek practically growled, eyes flickering over the shelves,
Peter stepped up to the desk, "Mostly, the internet."
Stiles snorted, and then sent Derek an apologetic smile, the betrayed look kicking him hard in the chest.
"And you need all of this because?" Derek added, glaring at Peter now.
Peter met the alpha's hard stare and almost, almost flinched back, "I like to be well read." he smirked. "Lydia's a banshee, just like her grandmother before her." Turning his back on them, Peter retrieved a large book from the shelf to his left and dropped it with a loud bang on the table. Stiles stared down at it, lip curling up at the scraps of paper sticking out between pages. Flipping through, Peter finally turned the thing to face then and Stiles stared at the old text and the small illustration of a screaming woman.
Bending over, Stiles let his gaze flicker over the writing, even as Peter informed them as to what it said.
"Banshee's are creatures, more accurately woman, who foretell of a supernatural death."
Stiles looked up, "Just supernatural deaths?"
"Usually, yes." Peter nodded, "but like all supernatural creatures, they are varied. Some Banshee are bound to a particular place, a river, a town…"
"Beacon Hills?" Stiles muttered, looking at Derek.
"While others attach themselves to families."
"Lydia?" Derek asked, and Peter gave a dismissive shrug.
"Is this why you attack Lydia then?" Stiles demanded angrily, "So she could use her banshee mojo to bring you back? Was she your back-up plan?" he spat furiously.
Peter met the teenagers accusing stare, "I didn't have a plan." he looked between the pair, "Despite what you believe, Derek, I didn't plan to be brought back. But somehow, she knew how to do it, to bring me back, most likely because of her connection to death itself." he waved at the open book.
"You said you knew what she was." Derek remarked coldly.
"I did." Peter said, "I knew she was a banshee, I knew she could sense death, and her scream," he flinched painfully, "but I had no idea she was capable of actually resurrecting me."
Stiles watched the werewolf closely, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. Something Stiles could only describe as…. shame. Shame masked by arrogance and sarcasm. - For the first time in a year, Stiles actually empathized with Peter Hale.
"Do you have anything on virgin sacrifices?" Stiles asked, looking around the room.
Peter raised a curious brow, "Virgin sacrifices?"
"We don't know that's what this is." Derek muttered.
"I know, you just don't believe me," Stiles snipped back, "Well?" he pressed, looking at Peter.
The man stared at him for a few more seconds, before turning to grab a few books from the shelf. "Why aren't you going to Deaton for this information, out of interest?" he handed the books to Stiles.
Neither of them answered, "I'm taking this too," Stiles said, grabbing the thick tome and adding it to the pile.
Peter shrugged, "Just be sure to return them, won't you."
Stiles huffed, turning to leave.
"That's it, you're leaving?" Peter demanded, voice strangled and insulted.
Derek paused at the stairs, looking back over his shoulder, "Yes. - If you hear anything, let us know."
"Stiles," Peter called as they made it to the top of the basement stairs, "Just one question."
Stiles looked down at him, "Yes."
"What are you?"
Sucking in a deep breath, Stiles turned, Derek's hand pressing into the middle of his shoulder blades, forcing him through the door. He hurried out of the house and into the warm air, sucking in a deep breath. "Shit, he knows."
Derek shook his head, and headed for the car, climbing into the driver's seat and starting the engine. Stiles balanced the heavy books in one arm while pulling open the car door. He'd barely closed it behind him before the Camaro was screeching away from the house.
"Great," Stiles muttered as the car turned onto the main road, "so Peter knows I'm different, Scott knows I'm different, and there's a damn woman with a barcode riding around the town on her motorcycle saving werewolves, and on top of all that we've got some creature or other killing virgins!" he ranted, body shaking, "Oh, and let's not forget that the love of my life is a supernatural alarm bell! - And Peter, oh he's a person I trust with my secret."
"Stiles, calm down." Derek snapped, "Peter doesn't know anything."
"You heard him!"
"All he knows is that there is something off with your scent,"
"My scent," Stiles sighed, "How is it I've been hanging around with werewolves for a year and now you've all decided to pay attention to my scent, which is totally creepy by the way. Like stalker creepy, which for Peter is just a regular day at the office."
Derek frowned thoughtfully, "I - don't know Stiles." He replied calmly, "The only reason I noticed it was because you were having a seizure,"
Stiles looked at the alpha, nodding, "And Scott got his first whiff when I had that panic attack and you stabbed me in the thigh."
"I said sorry about that."
Stiles waved off his guilt, "Which means it must only become noticeable when I'm under extreme stress,"
"Would make sense. Fight or flight response lead to an excess of adrenaline."
Stiles stared at him, lip curling, "It was science club, huh, I knew it." He grinned wide and proud.
"I wasn't in the science club, Stiles," Derek sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. "If you must know, I was... - Well in all honesty, I was pretty much a jerk, like Jackson, until my sophomore year."
Stiles glanced over at him, "What happened? I know you didn't become a werewolf, not that that stopped Jackson from being a jerk, in fact I'd say he's worse." Derek shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line, and Stiles nodded understandingly.
They spent the rest of the ride in silence, Derek focused on the road ahead while Stiles attempted to read in the fading light. When they finally pulled up outside the Stilinski house, Stiles was too oblivious that Derek had to slap his shoulder, startling him. "Hey," Derek nodded at the house behind a disgruntled Stiles, "Oh, right, home. Alright." he fumbled with the handle, shoving the door open and almost toppling out with the pile of books in his lap. "I'm fine," he reassured, just managing to brace himself, which wasn't easy with a left arm wrapped in plaster. "I'm fine," Stiles repeated, scrabbling to his to his feet.
Derek stared at him, amazed, "How can you be a super-soldier and a complete spaz at the same time?" he asked, shaking his head as he watched Stiles fumble with his load.
"Just a skill, I guess."
"If you find anything, call."
Stiles nodded, stumbling over his own feet as he turned away. Derek twisted back preparing to drive away when he caught sight of a familiar red and grey backpack. Shaking his head, Derek grabbed the bag and climbed out, "Stiles, you forget something?" he called, waving the bag as he strolled around the car to hand it over.
Stiles looked back at him confused for a moment, before jogging back, "Thanks. I'll call you later, okay." he smiled, walking backwards.
Derek watched after him, "Yeah. Just so I know you haven't been sacrificed." he smirked.
Stiles was still grinning when he kicked the door closed behind him.
_(*-*)_/
Stiles fears of a virgin sacrifice was confirmed five hours later when his phone rang. With his eyes still scanning a page of text on the rule of three in human sacrifice, Stiles reached for his ringing phone. Connecting the call, he lifted it to his ear as his eyes absorbed the words 'each grouping of three as its only power; etc virgins, healers, philosophers or warriors. It all depends on what the high priest is trying to achieve with their sacrifice.' "Yep?"
"Stilinski," Jackson's voice filled his ear and Stiles froze, gaze shooting up from the page to stare blindly at the wall behind his desk, "She's found another one."
"Where are you?" he asked, scrabbling to get off the chair. He glanced at the clock, 00:01. Stiles yanked open the bottom draw of his nightstand and snagged a pair of crime scene gloves he'd stashed away after the incident with Jackson six months ago, and then moved to snatch his car keys only to paused when he remembered he didn't actually have a car at the moment.
"The school."
Stiles froze, frowning over at the map of the school, already decorated by pieces of paper and string. He stepped over to it, "Where?"
"The car park."
That was the other side of the school from the lacrosse field. Reaching for a pin he pressed it into the wall. "North, East, South." He muttered to himself.
"What? Stilinski, what…?"
"Just stay there, don't call my dad." He ordered, "Just stay there and keep an eye on Lydia." He hung up and rushed out of the room and down the stairs, his thumb moving over the phone screen. "Derek," he said the moment the call picked up, "There's been another one. I need you to pick me up, now."
"I'm on my way." Derek replied gruffly, clearly having been woken.
Derek arrived less than thirty minutes later, and Stiles was sure he broke a few traffic laws. The moment he climbed in, Derek pulled away and sped off in the direction of the school,
"What happened?" Asked Isaac from the back seat.
"Shit." Stiles startled, turning around breathlessly to stare at the other teenager. "Dude, warning." He is shooting a betrayed look between the pair, then settled back in his seat. "Looks like Lydia stumbled on another body. Which makes three, by the way. Three bodies."
"Virgin?" Derek asked, features tense and focused.
"I don't know, but most likely. Oh, but here's the thing, the positions of the body, where they've been found, they're spaced out around the school. The pool is at the north end of the school grounds, the Lacrosse field is east, and the parking lot…"
"South." Isaac finished.
Stiles nodded, "This may not stop at three." He breathed, "I think we're going to get another victim, most likely tomorrow night."
The muscle in Derek's jaw clenched, and his hands tightened on the wheel.
"Are you saying they're going to kill another virgin?" Isaac asked, tone panicked.
Stiles looked over his shoulder at the suddenly anxious werewolf and nodded, "I think so."
Isaac sank into the seat, almost folding in on himself, "Is… - Is that why they took, or tried to take, me?"
Stiles looked at Derek, who's gaze met his briefly, then Stiles turned in the seat, "I don't think so, man. I mean… assuming that Boyd and Erica were taken by whatever is doing this, and they're not virgins, right?" he looked at Derek for confirmation.
"Don't ask me."
"No," Isaac answered, shaking his head.
"So why then." Derek asked, brows pulled together in one single dark line, "Why try to take Isaac if not for this," he gestured at the road ahead.
Stiles stared at the dark street thoughtfully, "Maybe…" he swallowed around the sudden realisation, "Maybe after the virgins comes…" he glanced back at Isaac apologetically, "werewolves."
Derek gritted his teeth and inhaled deeply, nodding.
The car pulled back into the school car park eight hours after leaving it. In the golden light of the lamps that dotted the area, they could just make out Lydia and Jackson, hovering in the middle of the tarmac. Derek pulled to a stop and climbed out, not bothering with cutting the engine, Stiles right behind him.
They didn't need to be shown where the body was, the smell caught all their attention. The tang of fresh blood tainting the air. Stiles bulked at the sight of the young woman, tied to a tree, eyes still open as blood dripped from her mouth.
Stiles headed over to her, pulling out the gloves, struggling to slip one on to his hand. Derek must have seen the trouble he was having because he snatched the glove and put them on his own hands.
"What am I looking for?"
Stiles sighed, "I so need to get rid of this thing," he muttered down at the cast, "It's not like I even need it, my damn arm healed days ago."
"Stiles!" Derek snapped, shrugging out of his leather jacket and handing it to Isaac.
"Right, yeah. Check the neck and back of the head. – And make sure not to contaminate the crime scene, the last thing we need is you being dragged in again."
Derek glared then moved up to the body, trying his best not to touch her with anything but his covered hands.
Stiles watched anxiously, foot tapping impatiently. "Well?"
Derek stepped away before sighing, "Yeah. Throat sliced, strangled and head smashed in." he dragged off the blooded gloves as he strolled back to the group.
"Oh God, what's doing this?" Lydia whimpered, folding herself into Jackson's side.
Stiles shook his head, "I don't know, but…" he looked around them, eyes searching the darkness, "I don't think it's over."
"No one goes anywhere alone." Derek ordered.
"What, why? We're not virgins."
Stiles looked at Jackson, eyes narrow, "How you know she's a virgin?"
Lydia looked up, eyes red rimmed, "I overheard her in her in the restroom this morning talking about how her girlfriend had a camping trip planned this weekend. She was planning," she looked over at the body, a tear rolling down her cheek.
Stiles exhaled a breath, swallowing the pain of seeing Lydia like this, so different to the strong capable woman she usually was. He wanted to go over to her and wrap his arms around her, comfort her, but that wasn't his place. She'd chosen Jackson, even after Stiles had told her he loved her, she'd gone back to him.
Clearing his throat, he forced his eyes away from her, to find Derek watching him. He gave the alpha a small awkward shrug. "You guys may not be virgins, but some of us are." He flushed.
"If Stiles is right,"
"Which he usually is," Stiles clarified, smirking.
"After whatever this is, is done with virgins it might be coming after us."
"Us?" Jackson frowned, still stubbornly refusing to accept his connection to the pack.
"Werewolves." Isaac said sharply, glaring at the other beta.
Derek glared at the pair of them, eyes flashing red, "Isaac was almost taken two weeks ago, Erica and Boyd are still missing. It can't be a coincidence. So," he stressed, "we have to be cautious, all of us. No one goes anywhere alone, I don't care how much you hate each other." He said sharply, "You stick together, and you check in with me each day. I'll not lose another pack member."
Jackson opened to mouth, probably to argue that he wasn't part of Derek's pack, only to snap it shut again when Lydia muttered her agreement.
"What about Scott?" Isaac asked, voice quiet and uncertain.
Stiles and Derek exchanged looks. "I'll talk to him." Stiles muttered, "Right now though, we need to get out of here. I'll call the station and let them know about…" he nodded to the nameless young woman, "anonymously. Make sure there's nothing that can lead back to us. "
"We walked here." Jackson said, looking around the empty parking lot.
Derek sighed, looking at the Camaro, "Get in, I'll drop you off." When no one moved for a few minutes. "Or you could walk." He added, looking at Lydia's bare feet and night clothes.
Lydia, Jackson and Isaac marched reluctantly towards the car and Stiles couldn't help but huff a dry laugh, "If you're going to play soccer dad, dude, you're gonna need a bigger car."
"Shut up Stiles."
