Thank you so much for all the reviews guys! SERIOUSLY!
As always I'll try to update as soon as possible -
please leave reviews or PM me because they will remind me to comeback to this story.
I love reading all your theories! Really its so cool to hear them!
Happy Chinese New Year!
Ill post today or tomorrow how to actually pronounce these names too if you want
Much Love
Stiles could hear birds.
He woke up slowly, comfortably, the sunlight streaming in through the window. The steady soft breathing of Five, her head leaning on one shoulder and her lightly closed fist resting on the other. He didn't open his eyes just yet, afraid it would be a dream. He just lied there and felt her breathing against him, deeply asleep.
They stayed like that until Stiles realized that his arm, which was pinned beneath them, was prickling. It was getting painful. He shifted his weight slightly, and she responded, stirring a little before returning to her doze. His arm freed, he gently wrapped it around her shoulders and she sank farther into him. As funny as it seems, Stiles could have sworn she was purring.
Opening his eyes, he gazed at her. She looked so helpless, her wild hair splayed across the the blankets, her ivory skin softly glowing in the golden sun. She wasn't quite the image of beauty, she looked rather comical, but in an endearing way. Her nose twitched and she slept with her mouth open. Stiles smiled. He couldn't help himself. He could get used to this feeling. He never had had someone fall asleep with him. Not like this anyway. Cautiously, holding his breath, he brushed her hair out of her face. She had a little mole above her right eyebrow he hadn't noticed before. Her eyelids were a faint lavender color, and her long thick brown lashes fluttered lightly as she dreamed. Her lips were pink, a soft faint pink like the hidden stones he and his mom would find in rivers on his way home from school. The same color was slowly returning to her arched cheekbones as a sign of her improved health. He felt like he could lie there all day and memorize her face.
But then the phone rang. Five jumped, startled out of her deep sleep. She blinked several times, very confused, and looked curiously at him.
Stiles chuckled, still very tired. "Its just the phone." He yawned.
"Phone?" She said, her voice raspy from lack of use.
Stiles rolled over, landing on the hardwood floor with a groan. Never mind, he was never sleeping on the couch again. It was a horrible idea. He was so stiff that it took considerable effort to heave himself off the floor and over to the phone on the wall.
"Hello." He grunted.
"Stiles?" It was his dad, and he sounded mad. "Why are you home?"
Stiles yawned again, "What time is it?" He asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
"You've got 5 minutes before your first class begins." said the Sheriff unhappily.
"Okay," sighed Stiles, "I'll miss first period, but I'll make it to second, sound good?"
"Fine, Stiles - but you can't have any more absences!" the sheriff huffed exasperatedly.
"Alright alright, I'll throw on some clothes and get going." Stiles groaned. "Why didn't you call my cell phone if you thought I was at school?"
"I was checking up on Five, since I assumed she'd be alone all day." Sheriff Stilinski snapped.
That woke Stiles up. Five was going to be alone. All day.
"Dad I can't -" he paused looking over his shoulder. Five was lying down, but she wasn't relaxed. Stiles could tell she was trying not to look like she was listening. He started walking away, talking very quietly "I can't leave her alone all day." He whispered. "What if ..." He couldn't tell his dad that last time he left her alone to go to school her crazed sister went into his room and butchered her, especially because his father didn't exactly know Five had spent the night before. "... something happens?"
"Mrs. McCall says she's got it covered and will be coming over in 15 minutes with backup. Which is what I called to tell Five." He sassed.
"Dad, you know she has no idea what a phone is right?" Stiles sighed.
"What, really?" He asked incredulously. Stiles shrugged
"Sheltered childhood." He supplied. Like really sheltered.
"Okay, well - get to school please."
"Can I at least wait until Mrs. McCall gets here?"
"Will you still make it to second period on time?"
"I should be able to."
"Fine. See you at dinner. I'll be by around lunch to check up on your girlfriend, alright?"
"Dad, she's not- she's not my girlfriend." Stiles hissed quietly into the receiver, blushing.
"Yeah, sure. Talk to you later, bud. Love you."
"Love you too"
He hung up and stared at the phone. Girlfriend? He was already in love. He loved Lydia. He had loved her for god knows how long. And something had just started happening between them. He didn't know exactly what was going on between them, definitely mixed signals for one thing.
But Five.
He didn't even know. Five was different. He had only met her two days ago, and didn't even know until yesterday she was human. But every time he thought about her ... It was almost like something had fashioned a violin out of his heart strings and when ever she crossed his mind, it would play music that would warm him up like hot apple cider on a cold autumn day.
Oh my God, apple cider?! He had to stop watching late night soap operas...
Stiles walked back into the living room. Five moved over, as if assuming he was going to come back under the blankets with her.
If he was told that he would burn in the deepest circle of hell for all eternity if he got back into that couch with her, he would gladly do it. For several moments he actually considered it. But a different type of hell was waiting for him, high school. And the guilt he would feel over disappointing his dad would burn much hotter than any hell could.
"I have to go to school, Five." He said sadly. Five looked up at him, her eyes deliberately blank.
"Alright," she smiled unconvincingly. "I will be here when you return."
He nodded, unsure of what to say. He walked upstairs, found some clean clothes, brushed his teeth, combed his hair and was back before 5 minutes had passed. So he put on the kettle and some morning mindless cartoons.
It was a comfortable silence, Stiles buzzed around the house, collecting books and papers he needed for class and Five hummed to herself, switching between watching him and the TV. Stiles made her a cup of hot tea and she thanked him with a big cheerful grin.
He could hear the orchestra in his heart then, wow.
There was a knock on the door and it opened before Stiles could answer it. Mrs. McCall entered, in her scrubs and loose ponytail putting the keys away into her purse. She carried a large bag with her.
"Aren't you supposed to be at school?" She asked accusatively.
"Aren't you supposed to be at work?" He sassed back. She raised her eyebrow mom-ishly at him.
"Sorry." He muttered.
She set down her bag on the kitchen counter and started unpacking. Lots and lots of medical supplies. Very medically looking medical supplies.
"What's uh- what's that for?" He asked, fearing the answer as Mrs. McCall pulled out surgical knives.
"Last night, Fives wounds had already started to heal over her stitches less than 3 hours after they were put in." she said mechanically, placing down a syringe. "That was 10 hours ago."
"Ah." He said, gulping. He was not emotionally prepared for a repeat of yesterday's proceedings. There was another knock of the door.
"That will be Dr. Deaton." She said absently, filling the syringe. Stiles had no distinct memory of Dr. Deaton out of his office building. He crossed to the front door hesitantly, not sure what to expect. He opened it slowly, peeking around the door.
"Mr. Stilinski, I would have thought you'd be at school by now." The Doctor stated plainly.
"Yeah, well life's all about those little surprises, ain't it doc?" Stiles quipped.
Dr. Deaton smirked to himself, "Might I come in?" He asked.
"Uh, yeah totally." Stiles rushed, opening the door wider. Dr. Deaton didn't carry anything but an old carpet bag. It was embroidered with the most beautiful and ancient Celtic designs. The bag was dusty and holed and the colors had faded in some places. Behind him, another car turned into the drive way. The door opened and out came Chris Argent. Dr. Deaton and Stiles appraised him with cool apprehension. Argent sauntered up the gravel with a bag of his own.
"Mr. Argent. What are you doing here?" Dr. Deaton asked with passive aggression.
"We're preparing for war right?" He said, clapping the doctor on the arm. "That's my specialty." He pushed past them both, into the Stilinski house. Stiles and Dr. Deaton glanced at each other, sharing a thought. The Argents played by a different set of rules. They came to a silent agreement, 'Keep an eye on Chris Argent'.
When everyone was inside, Stiles checked his phone. Okay he had exactly 15 minutes before he absolutely had to leave to catch 2nd period. The adults had taken over the kitchen table. Mrs. McCall was still unloading medical supplies, Mr. Argent was unloading maps, guns and some very dusty files full of yellowed musty papers, and Dr. Deaton was unloading corked glass vials, cloth drawstring pouches, dried plants, and big leather bound books. He went to pick up one of the files, but Mr. Argent swatted his hand away, glaring patronizingly at him. Stiles frowned and put his hands in his pockets. He felt out of place in his own home.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Five on the couch, looking intently at the three adults. Her face was blank and Stiles was reminded exactly how sick she was. When she smiled, it was easy to look past it but now, when there was nothing but focus on her face she looked ghostly. Deep pink and purple grooves had settled under her eyes, faint yellowing bruises stained her jaw and exposed skin, her split lip was set in a hard line and her open wounds with crisscrossed thread and the stretched icily translucent skin that stitched it together, spiraling up her arms and throat. She caught sight of him and smiled warmly, the visual brutality of her injuries lessening considerably. He felt his stomach churn, how could anyone do this to her?
"I'm ready when you are, Dr. Deaton." Mrs. McCall said, unraveling some gauze.
"How long is this going take?" Mr. Argent asked, cleaning a knife.
"As long as it needs to take, Mr. Argent" Dr. Deaton sighed. Mr. Argent grunted.
"I need to question her when you're done."
"I'm afraid that's out of the question, she needs to rest after that." Dr. Deaton said simply.
"Well, I'll just have to do it before hand then." Argent shrugged and started towards the living room. Stiles went to stop him unconsciously, but was beaten to the punch by Mrs. McCall. She grabbed his arm with surprising strength.
"I'm afraid that that's also out of the question. She's very weak. Perhaps tomorrow-" Dr. Deaton was cut off, Mr. Argent spoke over him aggressively.
"This needs to happen now, as soon as possible. They could be on their way."
"How would she know if they were? She does not have the answers you need, Mr. Argent." Dr. Deaton said, picking up a vile and examining it.
"She knows something, otherwise she wouldn't be here. Now or later - it's your choice, but I have to question her before I leave." The hunter stared Dr. Deaton down. The doctor barely glanced at him, comparing vials and flipping through pages in his book.
"Very well, go on in - but keep it short, she'll need a lot of strength today." Dr. Deaton said, almost to himself. Mr. Argent went to enter the living room but Mrs. McCall doubled her grip on his arm.
"Try to remember that there's a scared teenage girl in there who's all alone in the world." She hushed icily, her eyes boring into his. Mr. Argent leaned in closer to her.
"Try to remember that that thing in there is an unpredictable man-eating monster with a pretty face and nothing to lose." He hissed, and stored his knife in the sheath on his belt. "Whatever she is, she's not your son. So don't confuse the two." He shrugged her off and went into the living room.
Stiles watched tensely. The adults returned to their work, glancing occasionally at each other. Stiles checked his watch. 5 minutes to go. He went over to Mrs. McCall. "Can I talk to you for a second?" He asked her, jerking his head towards the hallway, his eyes urgent.
"Yeah, sure." She said, picking up quickly. She followed him to the end of the hall and out into the garage.
"How long are you going to be here?" He asked carefully.
"About another hour and then I have to go to work." She said crossing her arms, almost sensing what he was about to ask. He hesitated, but before he could open his mouth she said, "I can't stay with her all day Stiles."
"I don't trust anyone else to stay with her - anyone that isn't at school or my dad." He whined, pleading.
"Stiles, I'm an ER nurse, I literally can't because my job deals only with emergencies." She sighed
"This is an emergency!" He wailed quietly, "do you honestly think Mr. Argent won't kill her if he gets that demented little thought in his head that says it's the right thing? The first time he ever saw Scott - ever - he shot him. With a crossbow. And Deaton – well - Deatons just creepy and I don't trust him."
"Okay, well I was thinking maybe ... Derek?" Mrs. McCall supplied, her eyes widening
"Derek?!" He said, throwing his arms up. Derek was actually a good idea. He, at least, wouldn't kill her. But... "Derek is no good." Mrs. McCall smirked looked pointedly over his shoulder
"Why not, I'm free." Stiles whipped around clumsily. There, looming in the shadows was Derek Hale with one eyebrow arched in a challenge.
"Oh my GOD. How do you keep getting into my house?!"
Derek walked slowly out of the darkness, his eyes glowing blue, his lips pulling back over his teeth in a leer, a smirk, a dare for Stiles as he towered over him to say anything to imply his incapableness.
"I'll stay. No harm will come to her."
There were too many smells. I could feel my nostrils dilate, trying desperately to separate them out.
And the noise,
I could see it.
Like the paralyzed fractals in stained glass, they mixed together distorting my senses, making the scents colors and the sight a pure jagged movement of lines and shapes. My breathing became labored and I closed my eyes tightly to ease my mind. My ears rang and their voices drifted through to me like wind through the trees, muffled, choppy and dislocated. I tried desperately to make out their words through the abyss.
It was a true disgrace to my kind to be unable to hear mere feet away, even in such a condition as mine.
When I opened my eyes again, I felt far away as if the world had turned to water and I had sank to the very bottom. Time slowed. Through the darkness I could feel the four, their tenseness, their fear, their hearts thrumming in their chests.
Breathing deeply, slowly, I swam closer to the ending of this madness. Their faces came into focus and their voices cleared. When I broke the surface, I found the face I was looking for.
My Savior.
His eyes flickered like a warm and welcome torch in my endless night. I felt the grave-like pit in my chest fill with a belonging and my heart ached - in the most wonderful of ways. He looked at me and the ache throbbed and turned sour. I could see the pain he was in already. What have I done? What have I done to this poor man? He did not deserve what was coming ... and I certainly did not deserve him.
When he looked away I felt the smile slide from my face and my eyes well up with burning tears.
It was my fault. It was all my fault.
I watched as the Druid Healer, Lady Melissa, and a strong proud Warrior I recognized from the confrontation with Veleda dislodged their spoils from their satchels. My Savior circled the masters as they prepared for work. I attempted to be more interested in the curiousness of the practice than my thoughts on the physicality of what was to come. Their voices still were absent to me, I was still too weak to even hear like a human.
Suddenly, there was movement.
The Warrior man started quickly, but still leisurely towards me. Each made a move to stop him and I flinched. He smelled like a predator, a dominant, an Alpha of men. Lady Melissa held him back and I waited in terror for him to throw her or hurt her, punish her for her impudence, but he did not.
He listened to the words spoken to him with diplomacy. I watched in amazement. Truly a pack like no other. Could it be these hills, the hills where so many battle are fought, hummed with peace? It was unlike any I had seen anywhere else. Finesse in hierarchy.
It was clear Lady Melissa did not approve of him, as most skilled Healers disapprove of those who are skilled in War, and it was she who spoke last - in a manner most threatening. I saw a glint of sliver by his hip. A knife. They parted, and Lady Melissa nodded at me over his shoulder. It was reassuring, but did not prepare me enough.
This man was impressive. He was not particularly large, nor strong, yet he made it clear with his body language that he knew what I was and was not afraid. I froze, and glancing behind him I saw My Savior and Lady Melissa go hurriedly down a hallway. This man who reeked of battle and triumph appraised me like an opponent.
I shook.
I could not help myself, my body betraying my fear of this man, but I met his penetrating gaze and did not blink. He did not speak, we did not move. Then, slowly, a corner of his mouth lifted, his face relaxed and he pulled around a cushioned chair, sitting a good 8 or so feet away.
"Don't be afraid," he rumbled just loud enough for me to hear, "I mean you no harm."
The Warrior looked at me, and I looked at him. His face was calm and noble. One who had seen too much and aged too fast, but still had the deep instinctual sense of humanity running like a river through his veins. A fathers face. He was clever. He was honorable. Thats what gave him this prowess. In his cleverness, I knew, that his words would always be chosen carefully. His words tumbled over and over in my head until I realized the hidden meaning. 'Don't be afraid' did not mean I should not be afraid, and 'I mean you no harm' certainly did not mean he would not do me any harm. He analyzed my face, and I could tell he knew what I was thinking.
He continued to look at me, a small trace of empathy flickered in his face for an instant and in that instant, I knew I could trust him to do what was right. Engraved in the lines of his face were the markings of a good man, and I relaxed.
We both settled into our seats, the picture of ease, but still I sensed his body locked and coiled in the preparation for an attack. I cleared my throat.
"Would you like to exercise any safety precautions?" I asked timidly.
"Like what?" He asked, his face betraying no emotion but in his voice was amusement - as if implying I was no threat. I knew better though. I was a threat to everyone.
"I assume you are a seasoned Warrior against the unnatural, sir." I gulped, "Would it make you more comfortable if I were in restraints of some sort, sir?"
I bowed my head submissively, to reinforce that I was offering no resistance, at his mercy and command. Through my hair, I saw his brows furrow, bewildered. He got up, I heard him grab chains from the hard table in the other room.
Refusing my offer would be the polite thing to do, however we were not playing games of etiquette. This was War, and I was a variable. He returned, and I held up my wrists, wincing slightly as they pulled the seams of my injuries, and did not look at him. But I felt nothing. Glancing up I saw him sitting handcuffed to the chair. I blinked at him.
"There." He smiled, "Now neither of us can move." He rattled the chains and nodded at my stitches. I was not fooled, should an emergency arise he could easily free himself without losing a moment, but the gesture was not lost on me, and I smiled kindly at him. He returned it, to a much lesser degree, but he did return it and that was something.
In those few moments we had grown a mutual respect. A respect we knew would become beneficial to us both at a later date. His eyes were familiar to me. As if I had known him in another life. They tossed in my thoughts until I knew that the eyes I recalled were not his.
"What is you name?" I rasped softly. An icy chill going down my spine. He noted the change in my face.
"Christopher Argent." He said, scrutinizing me, "And you? What's your name?"
My head was reeling, how could I not have noticed? He smelled just like her. Each breath brought his scent, her scent, rolling over my tongue, ravaging my throat. Heated panic made my vision swim, but I exposed nothing. Not a hint or glimmer of my turmoil. Instead I answered him, as calm as if nothing happened.
"Five, sir."
"Got a last name, Five?"
"No, sir." He looked at me speculatively. "I have not been claimed and therefore have no surname, sir."
"Who's your Alpha? What's his name?"
"Renu, sir. Renu Ifearnán"
"How many are in your pack?"
"There are twenty two in my pride, sir. Although I'm sure there will be more coming." I corrected him without thinking. I winced glanced at him apologetically and he looked at me for a long while. At first I thought he was enraged that I would correct him, his nostrils flared and his eyes grew fierce.
"Twenty two?" He asked incredulously, leaning in.
He rested his elbows on his knees and scratched his chin, a far away look in his eyes. The truth he knew sank into me. How did I not see it? If it were only Derek as I had thought, he could run. But now. Too many called this their home and they were not enough. They did not have enough. Enough fighters, enough weapons, enough time. They did not have enough for that kind of attack. Before, there were 13 Hales and 16 of my pride, either side barely made it out, but this. With only 3 Hales, and maybe a couple outsiders, a hunter or two. Against the possibly 25-30 terrible beasts that were out for blood.
I had doomed us all
After a hushed and heated argument, Stiles, Derek and Mrs. McCall went back into the house. Derek would stay in the Stilinski house until Stiles or the Sheriff came home and no longer ... because he was needed elsewhere.
Derek and Stiles walked side by side, neither of them took the lead and neither fell behind. Mrs. McCall couldn't help but grin. Young love, even twisted, multi-form, supernatural young love was always cute ... in one way or another.
Dr. Deaton was still preparing the table. Derek and Stiles hesitated, hearing Five speak on the other side of the wall.
"Sir, I apologize. I truly and deeply regret my part in what is to take place here." She let out a shaky breath "I will give you any knowledge you wish as long as it is in my power to do so."
"Thank you Five ... your cooperation is appreciated." Chris Argent said tiredly. "I need to know where they are. Can you tell me that?"
"I left Toronto 7 days ago." she said quickly, desperate to give all she knew, "My sister followed me here, but the rest of them were not ready to move for another week. If there were no setbacks they will have left before the end of today - if there were, they will mobilize within the next three days. It will take them roughly 4 days on foot. They plan to come in droves, small parties, 8-10 in size, surrounding the town. They know about the tunnels, some will go there."
"Okay. Who are our biggest threats?"
"Renu, of course. I would say Veleda as well but she has already been captured. There's Morcant, he is strong and brave, a strategist. Eoghan, he's cunning and very fast. Aeronwy, she is a true warrior. Without mercy or fear." She paused and then added softly. "And then there's Líle."
Stiles felt Derek stiffen beside him.
"Who's Líle?" Argent asked quietly.
"She's one of the Gifted. My eldest sister."
"The Gifted?" He asked cautiously.
"Rarely," began Dr. Deaton loudly, so he carried into the living room,"when there is a litter between two Alpha leaders, the first born will exhibit certain qualities, extra abilities if you will." He looked up something in his book, picked up two vials and emptied them into a cereal bowl. "Even more rarely," he continued, mixing the ingredients with a wooden spoon, " these two Alphas will be Gifted themselves and then more than one of the litter will show these new qualities, or inherit them."
"Líle is very dangerous." Five murmured "Do not be fooled by her face. Her true form is pure white and over eight feet tall. She will instinctively know what your fears are and will use them against you. Do not engage her for any length of time if you can avoid it, especially alone." She paused to cleared her throat, "She is a siren, she can call herself into your head, so plug your ears if you hear her sing. You should also know... she finds everything horrid fun, it amuses her." She finished dryly.
"Anyone else?" Argent asked after a while. Five let out a shaky laugh.
"Me."
No one spoke. You could hear a pin drop. They were all horrified at what she had said. It rang like truth, but no one wanted to believe it.
"Excuse me?" Chris Argent said, doubt dripping from his words.
"When they come I can not guarantee I will be on your side, sir." She continued, self loathing etched into every syllable. "If my Alpha calls to me, I will not be able to refuse. My bond is my blood, my blood is my bond and when he calls I will come. And Renu always calls."
"You're not going back." Derek said gruffly, walking into the room, "Not this time."
"Derek?" Five gasped. He knelt down beside her and pulled her into a hug. She buried her face in his shoulder and let out a single shaky sob. "It's not going to happen. We'll figure it out." He grunted, not used to displays of affection, but he held her close as if his arms alone could protect her from the world. "I promise."
Stiles looked on from the doorway with a clenched jaw and crossed arms. What was with her and Derek anyway? What history did they have? What kind of history did they have? Was it romantic history? Whatever it was, Stiles was feeling less and less happy about leaving the two of them alone all day.
Ah, shit.
He checked his watch. He had to go, like right now.
"So!" He said loudly, effectively breaking up the hug. "I have to go to school. I'll be back in 6 hours. Please lock the door behind you. Mrs. McCall please call my dad when you leave with updates so he can text them to me. Derek, don't do anything stupid. Five," he paused. She looked at him sadly, and it gave him a weird sort of comfort that she seemed sad he was leaving. He walked over to her and clasped her hand earnestly, "be safe." He whispered. Without another glance, he went through the kitchen, grabbed his backpack and his keys and went out the front door.
On his way to school he drummed absentmindedly on the steering wheel. His anxiety climbed every inch he sped away from her. This was a bad idea. No less tat 6 times, he almost turned around. Derek could handle it. Dr. Deaton would probably put some mojo around the house. Mrs. McCall would dose her up full of pain meds. She'd probably sleep all day. Would Derek join her on the couch? Would he calm her after her nightmares?
Stiles turned aggressively into an open parking space, slammed his car door shut and threw his backpack over his shoulder. He had 2 minutes to get to class. He jogged up the steps and waded into the teenaged world of high school. He passed by girls and boys with perfectly normal lives, unaware. He saw Scott as his locker and walked over.
"Where were you? I was starting to worry." Scott hissed. His best friend never had to worry before if he missed first period. Whats the worst that could have happened? He slept in?
"I had to wait for someone to show up to take care of Five." he said. "Your mom showed up with Deaton and Derek. And then Allison's dad showed up. How does that guy even know where I live?" he added confused.
"Because he's a hunter, and your best friend is a were-wolf?" he said, chuckling. Stiles nodded.
"Good point. What did I miss in English?"
"Nothing, we talked about last nights reading and then it was pretty much a free study period after that." Scott shrugged. The bell rang and they crossed the hall to biology. Lydia's mom was teaching since Mr. Harris was used as a human sacrifice. That was something Stiles had never thought would cross his mind.
"Thats was the bell people, you should be here before it rings." she called over her students. "Please take your seats and turn off your cellphones." The class gradually settled down while Ms. Martin started writing on the white board. "This week we will be talking about the human evolution. Now this is a public school, everyone, please keep in mind that I teach science and not religion. You have your book, and I have mine." she held up the course textbook. A couple students laughed. "So, the Big Bang Theory." she turned and wrote it on the white board, "I trust you have each seen the tv show, but thats not what I'm talking about." another couple chuckles, "At the dawn of what we have come to know as time, a gravitational force pulled a bunch of little rocks to a somewhat larger rock and over time compacted and heated and grew into what we now know as Earth. The third planet from the sun. Who can tell me how old the earth is?"
A girl in the second row raised her hand. "4.5 billion years old."
"Very good. Now from that point, elements started coming together and at some point-" she slammed her book down on her desk. They all jumped and laughed. "Boom. Life. Now no one quite knows when or how this happened. Anaximander was a greek philosopher who used the term 'panspermia' which means 'all seed'. He and many others theorized that life had already existed in the universe and settled on earth. Others think that live was created from organic materials. Abiogenesis, meaning that since life on earth is based on essentially carbon and water – it created framework for mutations to occur in which and from - life was created. There are other theories like the RNA-Clay World Theory, The Iron-Sulfer World Theory, and the Membrane/Lipid World Theory. I suggest you look those up and mark the differences as they may or may not be on your test." A couple people groaned and there was a rustle of papers.
Stiles felt himself drift away. Ms. Martin continued to speak and he jotted down words and phrases he thought sounded important. His thoughts were back on Five. He should be there to hold her hand when they stitched her back up. Maybe he could go home during lunch to see her. Just to see how she's doing.
"... the appearance of animals. Animals can be distinguished from these plants by the lack of cell walls. Though all beings started as underwater dwellers, land invertebrate slowly developed a resistance to gravity and the ability to fertilize internally. The land vertebrate or 'tetrapods' soon followed. Fast forward to Dinosaurs who..."
Stiles grew impatient. His knee bounced and he scrawled pictures in the margins of his notebook, lost in the hum of boredom. The minutes ticked by.
"... what a lot of people don't understand is that Homo Sapiens are not the first humans. Or the only ones for that matter. There are possibly 15 different species of Homos documented so far." a couple people tittered immaturely but Stiles was jerked out of his daze by her words.
The things that went bump in the night.
"Hey, I know that symbol." Scott said, tiredly, glancing at Stiles' notes.
"Yeah?" said Stiles, not really paying attention, all his focus was on Ms. Martin.
"Yeah, Allison has it on a charm bracelet." Scott yawned. Stiles looked down at his paper. Every inch of it was covered in the same symbol. It was a circle with a loopy looking triangle in the middle. "It's called a triquetra. It's like for protection or something."
"Protection from what?" he asked hurriedly.
"I don't know, bad things. Evil. Darkness." Scott shrugged.
Darkness.