You dig your claws in deep
I'm way out, breaking free
You can't keep this alive
For me to survive, push me to the side
And I can't run if you're coming on to me
And I can't hide when you've got what's left of me
You leave it unsaid
It's all in my head,
We're better off dead
Let Me Out – The Veronicas
I awoke with a gasp, like I'd been held underwater.
My eyes snapped open as I desperately sucked in air. My skin ached and stung, feeling like it was burning off my body. I clutched at the ground, fingernails dragging painfully along the rough cement. The air burned as I forced it into my lungs, and I coughed loudly.
My vision was fuzzy, but after a long time my eyes adjusted, the shapes focusing into bodies visible in the light early morning light. "Stiles?" I asked with a frown, wondering what the hell had happened. My boyfriend was ashen, eyes wide and bloodshot. I realised there was a familiar taste in my mouth, an addictive metallic tang that haunted my dreams.
I lifted a hand to wipe my mouth, glancing down at the skin smeared with blood – also unexpectedly free of third degree burns. I knew whose it was, I would have even if I hadn't seen Stiles' wrist torn to shreds. "Are you okay?" he had the audacity to ask me, desperate concern splattered across his face.
I frowned, pushing myself into a proper sitting position, reaching down to my own wrist and biting into it deeply before holding it to my boyfriend's lips. He glanced at Scott, Lydia and Allison, hesitating for only a brief second before letting the liquid pool in his mouth, swallowing it and glancing down at his wound, watching idly as the skin quickly knitted itself back together.
"Are you okay?" he asked again, turning his attention back to me properly, barely sparing himself another thought. "How do you feel?"
The sunrise was warm on my face, and realising this I suddenly recognised a familiar weight on the middle finger of my left hand, I glanced down at my ring, now securely in place. "I was seconds away from being a pile of ash, how do you think I feel?" I asked with a deep scowl, voice brimming with attitude.
The relief was impossible to miss as it danced across the human's face. "Good, that's good," he mumbled, though for what reason I wasn't sure. He was probably happy I was coherent enough to be using sarcasm. The happy expression didn't last long, melting into one of fury. He reached out, shoving me strongly in the chest and forcing me back onto the gravel, clearly more than a little irritated. "What the hell was that?!"
I suppressed a wince, shrugging my shoulders like it would help. "Black magic?" I attempted to joke snidely, but he wasn't in the mood. With a grunt he pushed himself to his feet and began to pace, babbling angrily under his breath.
Surprisingly, Lydia was the first one to step forwards, holding out a hand for me to take. I was suspicious of her motives, but didn't want to come across as petty, so I took the offer, letting her pull me to my feet before letting go and cracking my knuckles more out of habit than anything else.
"You're okay?" Scott asked, stepping forwards to wrap me in a surprising hug. "It happened to me too," he mumbled to me as I awkwardly lifted my arms to hug back, wrapping around the naturally warm wolf and squeezing, slowly feeling more comfortable in his arms. I frowned into his shoulder, pulling back to stare at him in genuine concern.
"How are you now?" I asked warily. "No lingering suicidal tenancies?"
"None," he lifted one shoulder in a shrug and gave me the puppy dog eyes. "You?"
"No more than usual," I jested, but the joke fell flat, everyone shifting uncomfortably.
"Come on," Allison said, smoothing over the moment. "Everyone will be waking up soon."
"I'm not stepping a foot back in there," Lydia said shrilly, eyeing the motel with contempt.
"I'll go in and get our stuff," she said calmly. "You guys can go back to the bus."
"The bus?" Stiles asked.
Allison shrugged. "Unless you want to camp out on the road," she responded with raised eyebrows.
He clicked his tongue. "Right," he muttered, turning away and heading straight for the big yellow vehicle, not even stopping to look back at me, making me frown worriedly. I stared after my human boyfriend, concern curdling in my gut.
"I think we really scared him," Scott murmured to me gently, instantly I felt a weight in my chest, something I was reluctant to acknowledge as guilt.
"How do I fix it?"
He sighed. "Show him we're not going to do anything like that ever again, I suppose," he responded, and I pressed my lips together thoughtfully.
I sighed, bumping Scott affectionately with my hip, making his lips tip up as I followed the path Stiles had taken, making my way over to the bus. The doors were open, and I ascended the short few steps easily, peering into the vehicle's depths and frowning worriedly as I saw Stiles, curled up on one of the seats towards the back.
"Are you okay?" I asked him gently as I approached, coming to a stop in the middle of the isle.
"I mean, it's not like my best friend and girlfriend tried to burn themselves alive or anything," he replied snidely, turning his neck to stare out the window, eyeing the looming motel with disdain.
I sighed, hands twitching as I ached to reach out to him, but not knowing if it would be accepted. "I'm really sorry, Stiles," I told him sincerely, the sunlight pouring into the bus. I glanced down at the ring on my finger to reassure myself that I wouldn't burn like I just had. "I couldn't stop myself. I was so convinced...I mean, maybe it was a spell. God knows witches hate vampires enough to pull some shit like that. Or maybe it was a djinn, those fuckers have had it in for us since the 50s-"
"You're not allowed to do that again, you hear me?" he interrupted my desperate rambling. I immediately nodded. "Okay," he nodded back assuredly. "Then get down here."
I was confused for a moment, wondering what he meant, until suddenly he held out an arm, staring up at me expectantly. I melted into his embrace, curling myself into the human's side, nuzzling my nose into his neck.
"I really am sorry," I murmured into his skin, one hand curling around his collar firmly, reassuring myself that he was there.
He seemed to be thinking along the same lines, free hand moving up to wind his fingers through my raven locks. He breathed in deeply, and I ignored it as though I didn't realise he was sniffing my hair. My lips tipped upwards and I sank into him further.
The others appeared at the door a few minutes later, all marching up the stairs and down the isle, each slipping into their own seats to rest their heads for the few short hours we had until the others in the class would be heading back onto the bus.
I didn't sleep, but the rest of them did. Scott was the first to drift off, head tipping back against the window, mouth held open to let soft snores escape.
Lydia was next, resting her head on Allison's shoulder, breathing evening out gently. Finally the onyx haired hunter herself drifted also, sighing softly in her sleep as she dozed against the window.
Stiles seemed to be forcing himself to stay awake with me, and I caught his eyes. "Go to sleep," I whispered to him in the soft silence of the early morning.
"Only if you do," he murmured back sleepily.
"I don't need sleep," I told him reassuringly. "I need to make sure you're all safe." He didn't look convinced. "Please," I tried again. "Get some rest."
Finally he nodded, head tipping back against the back of the seat as he too nodded off.
It only took a few short hours for the group of weary teens and their wild eyed coach to approach the bus. "I really don't wanna know," Coach said apathetically, eyeing us with distaste as the dozing group sprung awake. "But incase you missed the announcement: track meet's cancelled, so we're heading home. Pack it in!"
The (mostly) human students slowly shuffled onto the vehicle, taking up the free spots towards the front. I had curled around Stiles during the night, and I didn't move my legs from his lap as he woke, turning to look at me in slight surprise. I smiled up at him impishly, and he grinned back down at me, but the expression was tired and wary.
"I don't know what happened last night," a voice said, and my attention snapped to the newcomer sitting in the seat beside Scott. I growled under my breath as I realised who it was, the alpha twin not so much as flinching at the sound. "But I'm pretty sure you saved my life."
"Actually I saved your life," Stiles interjected, leaning forwards even as I glared threateningly at the broad-shouldered kid. "But...not that it matters that much. It's just minor details..." he trailed off awkwardly when he only received cold stares in response.
"...so I'm going to give you something," the alpha continued as though my boyfriend hadn't even spoken. "We're pretty sure Derek's still alive," he said, and I sat straighter, chest clenching in something that seemed dangerously like hope. "But he killed one of ours. That means one of two things can happen; either he joins our pack-"
"Or he kills his own," Scott finished, heart beating wildly.
"Or Kali goes after him, and we kill him. That's the way it works."
"You know, your little code of ethics there is kind of barbaric," Stiles piped up, sneering in his direction. The wolf didn't reply, merely sliding to his feet and moving to the back of the bus.
"Coach, can I see that whistle for a second?!" Lydia spoke up suddenly, making me turn to watch her curiously as she took the whistle from the teacher's neck. She took a seat again, and Stiles and I leaned over the seats to get a better look at what she was doing. She cupped her hands around the whistle and blew, pulling away a moment later and showing us her palm coated with a thick, purple powder. "Wolfsbane," she said needlessly.
"And..." I said, leaning further over to press my pointer finger to her hand. I hissed in pain as I touched it, pulling back in pain and looking at my singed skin. "Vervain," I revealed with a scowl.
"So every time Coach blew the whistle on the bus, Scott, Isaac, Boyd and Juliet-"
"Ethan," Lydia added with a frown.
"We all inhaled it," Scott finished with narrowed eyes.
"You were all poisoned by it," Allison said gravely.
"That's how the Darach got in their heads," Stiles nodded. "That's how he did it." In a move quick for the common human, he lurched forwards, snatching the whistle from Lydia's hands and scrambling to reach the window, desperately working the glass open to toss it out onto the concrete.
"Hey! Stilinski!" Coach snapped furiously just as the bus started, pulling out onto the main road. I could only grin.
The expression wavered after a long moment, staying turned down long after Stiles had sat down, this time beside his best friend, bumping him lightly on the shoulder and tossing a smile over his shoulder at me.
I curled in on myself, trying to forget exactly how close I'd been to death.
"You know, that's really not good for your back."
Stiles sprung upwards violently, gasping in surprise as he tumbled off the bed he was hanging off of, reading with his head tilted backwards. "Jules!" he blinked at me, dropping the paper in his hands and pushing himself to his feet. "You're here."
"Yes," I responded calmly, tilting my head at him and folding one leg over the other, leaning back against his windowsill.
"Well-uh, how are you?" he asked softly, though his heart betrayed him, hammering nervously in his chest.
It'd been two days since we'd spoken. I felt bad for isolating myself, especially after the whole motel incident, but I felt it was necessary. I needed time to recuperate, drinking my weight in blood and listening to my favourite records. I didn't want Stiles to see how terrified I was, how shaken and unnerved I felt.
It came through in my actions. The house was permanently dark, I remained in comfortable clothing and I smoked a human's lifetime supply of cigarettes.
In short: I was depressed.
For an ordinary human, this wouldn't be a dangerous thing. For a vampire? It was deadly. Not for me, but for those around me.
The urge to flick my switch was more pressing than ever. I ached all over, desperate for relief from the fear, from the pain. I drank as much blood as I could handle, hoping it would tide me over, but it was nothing like the stuff from the source. And that was the biggest problem. I wanted the stuff from the source.
I was hungry. I craved blood in a way I hadn't in years. I didn't trust myself to be around my human boyfriend, too worried I'd nip him a little too hard when kissing his neck.
So I stayed away, even though it was difficult. I loved the kid, and I wanted to spend every waking (and un-waking) moment with him. I told myself he needed space too, but looking at him now, seeing the wary and hopeful look in his expressive coffee eyes, I knew it probably wasn't my best decision concerning the human boy.
Deciding that I sure as hell wasn't about to let things get awkward, I rolled my eyes, sweeping to my feet and crossing the room in only three steps. I wound my arms around his neck, pressing myself to him, admiring the way his eyes lit up in the golden light from the sunset pouring through the window.
"I'm better now that I'm with you," I told him with a cheesy grin, subtly inhaling his intoxicating scent, enjoying the way it both relaxed me and made me feel alive – better than any drug.
"What-" I didn't let him finish, swooping in and planting my lips over his. He yelped in surprise at my actions, but only too a split second to react, slipping his arms around my waist and responding enthusiastically, leaning into me happily. After a long, blissful minute, he pulled away. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing me closely.
I smiled up at him again. "I think I'm getting there," I told him honestly, hint of a mischievous smirk appearing on my lips. "I could use your help," I added suggestively, and he frowned confusedly, not getting the hint.
I rolled my eyes, fondly exasperated as I leant into him, once more bringing our lips together. The air escaped his nose in a heavy puff, but he didn't for a second argue, tilting his head instinctually to deepen the kiss. He didn't take it any further, and I rolled my eyes behind my closed lids as I reached up, deft fingers popping open the buttons of his shirt.
Once the item of clothing was unbuttoned, I gently but eagerly pushed it off his shoulders. He twisted his body, tugging the shirt off his body. I ran my hands over his collarbones, nails dragging softly across his pale skin.
"Home alone?" I breathed against his lips as though I wasn't already sure, and he hummed in affirmation. "Good," I added, licking at his plump bottom lip.
His hands clutched at my waist, fingers digging into the soft but firm flesh there, thumbs brushing against my hipbones exactly the way I liked it.
Reluctantly pulling away, though only for a moment, I carelessly grasped the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head. Stiles sighed happily as my bra was revealed, and with confidence I was only beginning to get used to from him, he drew back into me like a magnet, lips finding the place my pulse should have been, nibbling the sensitive skin before lapping his tongue over the spot to soothe it.
I reached back, easily flicking open the clasp of my lingerie. The lace fell from my body, but Stiles didn't stop to look, merely continuing to lavish attention on my neck. I ran my fingers through his hair, making it look even more wild than usual.
Impatient and embarrassingly eager, I grabbed the back of his undershirt, balling the material in one fist and yanking it, ripping the cloth from his body with ease.
Stiles made a sound that was somewhere between a moan and a laugh, and I smirked, happily moving my hands to his chest, nails raking gently over his skin.
I pushed him back, forcing him to collapse onto his bed. I swung one leg over his hips, settling myself on top of him and leaning down to kiss him some more. I would never tire of it; of him.
I was more careful with his jeans, keeping his mouth occupied as I unzipped them, sitting back and pulling them off of him in one smooth movement. I took him in my hand and he mewled, arching into my hold desperately. I smirked against his lips before kissing my way down his chin and along the column of his throat, nibbling at his adams apple before moving to his pulse point, sucking the skin there firmly, pleased when I pulled away to reveal a bright red mark.
I continued down his chest, paying a few minutes worth of attention to each of his nipples before licking my way down to the small patch of hair leading away from his navel. I hadn't gone down on him yet, and I knew that nobody ever had. I smirked again; he was in for a treat.
He was well endowed, thick and hot on my tongue as I started off slowly, sucking lightly and flickering at his tip. Another pro to being a vampire: breathing wasn't a necessity. This was good news for their sexual partners of all genders and species, which I knew from experience. I relaxed my throat, taking more of my boyfriend and moaning around his length.
He cried out, fists clutching at the blankets as he experienced the sensations for the first time. It didn't take him long to come undone, but I wasn't surprised, though I was sure he would feel embarrassed looking back. I swallowed with ease, the taste of him salty and severe.
I crawled back up my boyfriend's body, grinning as he all but purred, laying boneless and sated against his pillows. "Oh my God," he gasped breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling, probably reliving it in his head.
"I love you," I told him sincerely, a fond smile on my lips, and his big, round eyes snapped to me, staring at me in pure incredulity.
"You love me?" he asked, and if I didn't know better I'd have thought he sounded enraged. It wasn't like it was the first time I'd said it, but he was acting like it might as well have been. "You're telling me that you love me?"
My lips twitched, and as I leant closer to brush our noses together, and he went cross eyed in an attempt to maintain eye contact. "I do believe that's what I just said," I told him patiently.
"It's not possible," he said breathily, glancing away to stare up at the ceiling, expression pinched. "You can't be real."
"You get sappy after blow jobs, huh?" I asked him gently, shifting so I was hovering more directly over him, forcing him to meet my eyes again. "That's good to know."
He sighed, tension draining from his coiled muscles. "I love you," he told me sincerely, heart beating fast but consistently, his words nothing but the truth. I grinned, also relaxing in his hold and ducking down to mould our lips together. "Oh," he exclaimed suddenly, pulling back from the chaste kiss, familiar blotchy red spots appearing on his freckled face. "I should probably...um...you know..."
"Return the favour?" I finished for him, an impish smirk lighting up my face. "How about," I began, running my fingertips down his side. "You can just leave an it as an IOU," I suggested, grin turning sly.
Suddenly there was a shrill ringing sound ruining the peaceful, quiet air, and I sighed defeatedly, dropping my head to his clavicle and groaning. "Leave it," I murmured to him softly, nuzzling deeper into his neck, and he paused where his arm was half outstretched to reach for the device.
"But-" he began to argue weakly, cutting himself off when I pressed my lips to his pulse point, lightly nipping the skin there. He groaned, leaning further into me and forgetting about the shrieking cell as it rang out.
Things were just getting good again when the annoying sound started up once more, echoing around the room like a siren.
"It could be important," Stiles sighed reluctantly, pulling away from me and reaching for the vibrating device. He glanced at the screen then pressed the green button, holding it to his ear, unable to keep the annoyance from his tone as he spoke. "Scott, now's not really the best time-"
"Something happened at the hospital," he cut his best friend off. Stiles sat up straighter, the sheet falling to his waist, though he didn't notice, all his focus on the conversation at hand. "There are two doctors missing. I think it's the Darach."
"We're on our way," Stiles said quickly, flying from the bed and holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he struggled to pull up a pair of pants. "We'll be there in five."
I slid out from under the covers too, pulling on my jeans before blindly slapping on the bra I'd been wearing, along with my old 'Stones shirt, before slipping over to Stiles' closet and pulling out a worn, thready red flannel. I chucked it over my shirt and turned back to Stiles, who had thrown the phone onto the bed and was struggling with buttoning his jeans.
I met him in the centre of the room, rolling my eyes fondly as I shoved his hands out of the way, buttoning the pants myself in a simple flick. "Breathe," I reminded my boyfriend, who had suddenly turned into a massive ball of anxiety.
He did as he was told, sucking in a deep breath as he reached for his shirt, slipping it on and chucking his hoodie on over the top.
He collected his keys and phone, shoving them into his pocket and making a beeline for the door. "Should I call Kol?" I asked conversationally as I walked behind him, watching him all but trip down the stairs in his haste.
Stiles snorted bitterly, "as if he'd even show up."
He had a point, the last few times I'd needed him, he hadn't had the decency to turn up, let alone send a text telling me why. I'd seen him a few times over the last few days, mostly in passing. I'd tried to talk to him, but it was all "I have a meeting to get to a town over" and "fuck you, I don't have to explain myself to anyone".
Dick.
Stiles slammed his car door while I let the passenger side one slip quietly closed. He was frowning, staring resolutely at the road as he pulled out of his driveway.
"You're way too tense for a guy who just got blown," I told him casually, and the car jolted for a moment as he spluttered in response to my comment.
"I think sacrificial murders are reason enough to be tense," he argued tightly, turning onto the main road and stepping on it, going slightly over the speed limit (though I didn't mention it).
I observed him, listening to the sound of his heart beating quickly. I could practically hear the words shooting around in that big brain of his. "You don't have to hold the whole world on your shoulders, you know," I said softly just as we pulled up to a red light, the warm colour washing over Stiles invitingly.
He sighed but didn't answer, cracking his knuckles as he was bathed in green, and pressing his foot to the gas, heading towards the hospital.
"Scott!" Stiles was calling before he was even completely out of the car, tripping in his urgency to reach his friend. "So?" he blurted, barely sparing the time to lock the car behind him. "Tell me everything."
As Scott spoke, I surveyed the area. The cops still hadn't arrived, and I figured that because it wasn't a complete emergency it didn't have high priority. I halfheartedly listened to Scott's explanation. Two doctors missing, just up and gone from their daily lives.
Stiles was instantly on board with his best friend's Darach sacrifice theory, and I had to admit that it was a good theory (and not only because it was the only one we had).
Of course Kol was a possibility, but I didn't want to bring that up, since nobody else had. Besides, it was unlike him to go after two esteemed doctors on the same night.
Finally the cops showed up, and Stiles all but jumped on his father the second he stepped out of the car. The sheriff had more important stories to collect, and since he didn't have all the facts, we couldn't get him up to speed on the truth, and had no choice other than to let him do his job.
"These are definitely sacrifices, right?" Scott asked, looking for confirmation of some kind as we moved away from the sheriff, standing off to the side where we wouldn't be overheard.
"Yeah it's one Deaton mentioned: healers," Stiles responded softly, glancing over Scott's shoulder at his dad.
"What about Danny? He threw up mistletoe. That's not a coincidence. And if he hadn't been with Ethan, he would have died. He's not a healer."
Stiles was silent for a beat. "Can you hear that?" he asked us suddenly, gesturing to where his dad was taking a phone call.
I tilted my head, easily catching the words on the other end of the connection.
"They found a body," Scott told him with wide eyes.
"We have to go check it out," Stiles said immediately, and I wrapped my fingers around his arm to stop him.
"We can't all show up at the crime scene," I told him sternly. "I'll go."
"What? Why do you get to go?" Stiles whined.
"Because I'm older and I said so," I sniped back, and he crossed his arms as he pouted.
He looked like he was going to say something, but I recognised the expression on his face as he clearly changed his mind before speaking. "I don't think you should be out alone," he finally settled for saying.
I raised an eyebrow at him dubiously, and he winced, realised how it sounded. "I can take care of myself," I said dryly, and he sighed to himself, making me feel inexplicably guilty. "I'll call Kol," I assured him to make up for being so curt.
Scott huffed, "if he'll even show up."
I leaned forwards, brushing my lips over his gently. "I'll be okay," I told him quietly, as Scott looked away politely. "I'll see you at school tomorrow."
I left without another word, merely softly nudging Scott on the shoulder as I passed, making my way out of the parking lot, heading for the north side of town.
I hadn't seen Kol in days, not since before the whole face-off with the alpha pack. I was furious, although entirely unsurprised. It was so like him to disappear without a moment's notice, especially when we needed him most. I was again completely unsurprised when he wouldn't answer his phone, meaning I had to wander through the town alone.
Thankfully it wasn't a full moon, so the risk was minimal.
After checking out the crime scene for myself and determining there was nothing I could do further, I texted Stiles to tell him I was okay, then slipped back to my house.
I was however actually surprised for once, when the lights were on and some kind of heavy rock music was blaring from speakers that I didn't own. I shoved my way through the door, instantly frowning as I got a face full of the stench of vodka and fresh blood.
"Kol," I hissed, stepping around the corner and eyeing the Original where he sat on the couch, a hoard of girls around him and a small group of boys bringing them mixed drinks.
"Ah – Juliet!" Kol grinned when I appeared, the front door clicking shut behind me. "Long time, no see."
I was livid as I lunged forwards, grasping him by the collar of his expensive but bloodstained shirt and heaving him up off the lounge. I knew he was letting me, I couldn't have made him do a single thing he didn't want to do.
"Where the fuck were you?" I demanded, ignoring the half naked women cooing and begging for me to return him to their side.
He sneered uncaringly. "Away on business," he answered me nonchalantly.
"You've been daggered for several decades, how much business could you possibly have?" I asked snidely, and he merely smirked callously. "One of my friends nearly died because you weren't there to help us."
He sighed, clicking his tongue and staring down at me through intelligent, narrowed eyes. "Several things," he began, easily shoving me off of him and holding up his free hands to count off on his fingers. "Since when do you have friends, and since when am I required to be at your every beck-and-call?"
"Since I gave you a place to hide out from your psychopathic brother?" I asked scornfully, baring my teeth at him angrily.
He waved a hand, again entirely uncaring. "Semantics," he muttered offhandedly. "Look, are you going to join in on the fun or not?" he asked impatiently, moving back to the couch and sinking down into the cushions, the girls surrounding him letting out sighs of pleasure.
"Not," I sneered, shoving a buff, shirtless male in the chest as he attempted to approach me.
"Suit yourself," Kol hummed indifferently, his full attention on the throat of the youngest of his compelled party guests.
Knowing I wouldn't get any more out of him, I spun around and marched up the stairs, slipping into my room and turning an old jazz record up as loud as it could go, trying to drown out the moans and gasps from downstairs, to drown out the thrashing music.
Trying to drown out the sickening urge to join them.
I hadn't slept at all the previous night. Although I could (usually) go weeks without needing much at all, I'd found that since I'd been with Stiles, I'd gotten used to sleeping beside him every night.
I was more than a little grouchy as I walked into school that morning, the thick soles of my boots hitting the linoleum with dull thuds, a cigarette hanging from between my red lips. Although I hated school – more on principle than for any actual, valid reason – I was somewhat looking forward to a day of lounging in seats beside Stiles as I slipped him dirty notes or putting the fear of God into freshman who dared stare at me for too long.
I wasn't particularly happy, then, when Scott all but crashed into me after only the first few periods, interrupting the conversation I was having with Allison about France.
"Whoa," I said, catching the wolf before he fell to the floor, panting, eyes wild with fear. "What's wrong?" I asked instantly, listening to his heart hammer beneath his chest.
"It took him."
I merely frowned, not understanding in the slightest. "Context?" I prompted him, Allison watching on with worried eyes.
"The Darach," he elaborated under his breath, making sure we wouldn't be overheard. "It took Deaton."
"Your boss, the vet?" I asked, brows furrowed. "Do they count him as a healer?"
"They must."
"How do you know it has him?"
Scott sighed in a rare move of impatience, running a hand through his hair. "He rang me during class," he admitted breathlessly. "You need to start looking for him. Now."
Not even considering arguing, I nodded my head. "What will you do?"
"Stiles and I are going to the Clinic," he told me exactly as my boyfriend sped up to us, arms full of binders and textbooks.
"Any news?" the kid asked Scott, who shook his head quickly.
"I'll leave now," I told them, throwing a nod at Allison and pressing my lips to Stiles' slightly prickly cheek before slipping from the corridor and out into the sun.
Kol was at home when I got there, half asleep on the couch, Jeopardy playing on the TV in the background.
"Kol," I said crossing my arms and staring down at him in annoyance. "Kol!" I tried again, reaching down to shake him slightly. He groaned and rolled over, burying his head into the dark fabric of my couch. Irritated beyond words, I swiped a mostly empty beer bottle from the floor, bringing it down on the Original's head.
Blood dribbled down his temple, but he did nothing other than mumble a curse words and roll over to glare at me. "That was rude," he said, voice layered with distaste, not even slightly phased by the sudden attack.
"I need your help."
"What else is new?" he retorted sarcastically, and I watched as the cuts along his hairline quickly and seamlessly close themselves up.
"Could you try not to be a prick for five minutes? A man's life is on the line," I hissed irritatedly.
"And this matters why?"
"Because we're the motherfucking good guys, you jackass," I snarled, hoping to evoke a reaction other than amusement.
"Sure, that sounds like something the good guy would say," he teased, and my nails bit into my skin as I clenched my fists too tightly.
He said nothing more, merely eyeing me expectantly. "Fine," I snapped at him darkly. "What do you want for it?"
"Hm," he mused, putting a stupid finger to the stupid dimple in his chin and looking into the distance contemplatively. "Now, what exactly is my time worth?"
"I'll take you to a bar," I offered with a reluctant scowl.
He scoffed, "I can do that any old day."
"I'll hire you strippers."
"Nothing I can't compel for myself."
"I'll be your servant for a day."
"Nothing I can't compel for myself," he repeated infuriatingly, a sly smirk on his lips.
Deciding he wasn't worth my time, I rolled my eyes and spun around, heading for the door. "Whatever, Kol. You're not worth anything," I called over my shoulder. I slipped from the front door, stepping out into the warm air of the middle of the afternoon, adjusting the jacket sitting on my shoulders and making my way down the stairs.
Kol was in front of me before I even reached the mailbox, seeming to appear from thin air. "Fine," he said with a heavy sigh, like he was doing me some kind of huge favour. "I'll help, but I assume you know what I'll really want in return."
"If you say something sexual, so help me God, Kol-"
"A favour for a favour."
I paused, narrowing my eyes against the migraine-inducing sunlight and frowning up at the older vampire. "What is it with your family and favours?" I asked, buying myself time to consider.
"Currency of the future, darling," he quipped with a carefree grin, not actually answering my question.
I weighed my options. I could say no, but that would be incredibly selfish. Wasn't that something I was trying not to be anymore? Bringing the Original along with me would almost certainly triple my chances of finding the good Doctor alive, so all I could do was grit my teeth and agree to the terms.
I stuck out my hand, and he grasped it, grinning like a shark as we shook on it.
