Chapter 4
It was after school the next day when Kira met Liam.
She didn't even have to seek him out, which was a tad disappointing if not unexpected. She'd spent the night before googling tips on how to spot a tail or someone stalking you. Then she'd gone to bed feeling paranoid and a little silly for assuming that just because something weird was up with the new kids, that it had anything to do with her specifically.
God, Kira, the world doesn't revolve around you, I mean, right?
Maybe 'I hope Brett and Liam make better first impressions' was just about people in general. Like, they knew people named Brett and Liam that they hoped were having better luck making friends than they had. That was far more plausible than some freaky conspiracy centered around her.
And then Liam of the mysterious 'Brett and Liam' duo showed up in the library for a tutoring session. Just when Kira coincidentally happened to be the only tutor available.
Oh reeeeeally.
Flipping her hair over one shoulder with a defiant toss of her head, she threw caution to the winds and strode across the library to where he waited at a table.
"You're Liam?"
Kira came prepared to stand firm against any possible intimidation from mysterious conspiracy stalker number three. But her resolved wavered in the face of a not remotely intimidating sophomore that couldn't be more than an inch or two taller than her own five feet and two inches. One who looked far more flustered than even she ever could.
"Uh, yeah. That's me," he mumbled, having trouble meeting her eyes. She frowned. This was not conforming to any of the scenarios she'd found online or in her Netflix queue. But then again, Scott 'I probably babysit puppies while reading to old people' Vasquez hadn't exactly oozed nefarious intentions either. What kind of spies or shadowy government agents were these?
Honestly, it was like you couldn't even trust Hollywood to prepare you for being the center of a brainwashing conspiracy at your private high school.
She'd always been light on her feet though, and she recovered quickly. Seating herself at the table and patting the chair next to her, she started pulling out her notes as she waited for him to join her.
"Great! Well, I'm Kira and it looks like I'll be your tutor this afternoon. You wrote down that you're having trouble with trigonometry? What's giving you the most problems there?"
"Umm, all of it," Liam said, frowning. He perched on the edge of his chair like he was prepared to launch himself to safety in the event of an explosion, and Kira took a discreet look around for men in black suits with tranq guns or sniper rifles.
There'd be no one to see if they were even halfway competent at their jobs, but so far Liam, Scott and Malia weren't rousing endorsements there. Unless they'd been picked because they seemed so harmless. But as she launched into her tutorial and the hour progressed, she started to think Occam's Razor might actually be in play here. Sometimes the simplest explanation was the right one. Which meant that sometimes a sophomore not having the most basic understanding of trigonometric principles meant he wasn't a super young looking secret agent pretending to be clueless, he just really didn't understand trigonometry.
Because while Kira could believe that shadowy secret agencies spying on high schoolers recruited five foot four agents with no facial hair to pose as sophomores, she couldn't fathom those agents being sent into the field with absolutely no grasp of trigonometry. It had literally dozens of real world applications.
Sometimes a cigar was just a cigar, Kira.
Eww, why had she jumped to penis metaphors?
Shaking her head at herself, she refocused and noticed Liam staring at her. He flushed, embarrassed, and it took her a second to realize he must think she was shaking her head at him.
"Sorry. I told you I'm not good at this," he mumbled.
"Oh! No no no, I'm so sorry," Kira gushed, horrified at herself. She was so caught up in her own drama, she was taking her paranoid conspiracy fantasies out on a probably innocent fifteen year old kid just trying to learn. "I was shaking my head at myself, it had nothing to do with you. You're actually doing really well, I think we just needed to come at the basic principles from an angle you can relate to better, and you'll have the hang of it in no time. It's all about having a strong foundation."
"Really?" He brightened visibly. "You're not just saying that?"
Kira smiled. How could she have ever thought this kid had nefarious intentions?
"I'm really not. You're gonna be fine, we'll just set up a few more sessions to reinforce what we covered today and make sure you've got a firm grasp of it before moving on. Is that cool?"
"Yeah, definitely. That'd be great, thanks so much!"
"Okay, well how about we stick to Tuesday and Thursday afternoons for a couple of weeks, and see how that works out?"
"Sure, whatever works for you."
"Great!"
Liam beamed at her a bit longer than was probably socially acceptable, making no move to gather up his own study supplies even as she crammed hers back into her backpack. Poor kid didn't seem to be picking up on her not so subtle cues that they were all done here, and Kira really didn't want to be so harsh as to spell it out. A sinking feeling settled in her gut as she started to suspect she'd read his obvious interest all wrong. Oh no. He didn't have like…a crush on her or something? Was it totally conceited to imagine that was what was going on here? He was cute and seemed totally adorable, but he was a sophomore - that was way too young for her - and she had a few too many things going on right now to be worrying about this.
"Umm," was all she got out as she searched for a graceful way to articulate her concerns. Why didn't they ever teach classes about this sort of thing? Talk about real world applications. Thankfully, Liam's eyes chose that moment to spring wide in realization. His face flamed red with sudden heat and he popped to his feet and shoved his books into his backpack with a haste that made her wince from a guilt slash sympathy one-two punch.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to hold you up. I gotta get going anyway, and I'm sure you've got other stuff to do," Liam spilled out as Kira regretted everything. An actual brainwashing conspiracy by shadowy government agencies would have been preferable to the boy's obvious embarrassment. She cut off the flow of apologies with a gentle headshake.
"You're fine, I just have to get going or I'll be late catching my train home. I'll see you Thursday, okay? Same time, same place?"
"Yeah, for sure. Thanks again."
"No problem," Kira waved cheerfully as she quickened her pace out of the library. At least she wasn't lying. Crap, she really was going to miss her train. She cast a look back over her shoulder as she pushed through the library's double doors. Liam still stood by the table, watching her go with his phone raised to his ear.
Her earlier concerns were initially forgotten in her mad scramble through the four city blocks between school and the nearest subway station. These shoes and this skirt were not made for that sort of thing, and inefficiently dashing through the mobs of late afternoon pedestrians took all her focus. But even with that, the irrational certainty she was being watched resurfaced as she paused for traffic before crossing a street. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, she casually scanned her gaze across the multitudes traipsing down sidewalks in every direction. Some instinct made her look up just in time to catch a flicker of movement on the roof of a bakery a couple blocks west. A figure stood at the edge of the roof, a dark silhouette framed by the swiftly setting sun. Their features were too indistinct to make out anything like age or gender or if they were even looking in her direction at all. The crosswalk light changed to 'Go.'
Kira went, heart pounding in her chest.
She took the steps down to the station three at a time, almost colliding with a red-clad teenager at their base. She drew back, an apology ready at her lips when she took in the crimson blazer that was an identical match to her own. The boy wearing it was tall, blonde and handsome, three variables that should have combined to make him stand out in hallways of her school. Kira was positive she'd never seen him before in her life.
She was equally positive she didn't need an introduction to know his name was Brett.
Pulling away with a swiftness that startled the smile from his face, she backed away into the crowds waiting on their trains. He frowned, looking around as though uncertain how to proceed, but after a minute he started casually pressing deeper into the crowds himself. Kira darted a look down at her phone. She had two minutes til her train arrived. She wove her way through the mass of bodies, pushing further down the platform. Her mouth was dry and she was painfully aware of the tingling beneath her skin, pulsing in time with the uneasy rhythms of her heartbeat. She didn't have to look back anymore to know that he was following her further and further into the station. He was going to get on the same train as her. Her hair felt stiff and weightless all at the same time, and she just knew that if she reached up a hand to touch it right now, the strands would cling to her fingertips as though electrified. The fluorescents overhead flickered and for a moment, she stopped breathing entirely.
Why was this happening to her?
Despite her best efforts, the gap between them still closed far too quickly. She'd run out of room and there was nowhere else to back away to as he squeezed between an elderly couple to stand beside her. Kira could hear the train coming, the rattle along the tracks that heralded its arrival. A gust of wind rushed through the tunnel ahead of it.
"Hey, looks like we go to the same school," he said, nodding down at her own blazer with an awkward smile. "Do you usually take this train? I don't think I've run into you here before."
She said nothing as the train screeched into the station, sparks flying up from the tracks where the brakes slammed it to a halt. The doors hissed open and passengers poured out, bumping up against them on either side. More than one rubbed their shoulder where Kira brushed it, glaring back at her with confused grimaces. She barely even felt the shocks. Brett looked down at her in concern when she made no move to board the train even once the path cleared.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Heart still hammering in her chest, she took a deep breath, screwed up her courage, and shoved him as hard as she could into the crowds behind them.
"Oh my god, get away from me! Don't touch me, you pervert!"
Her screams drew every head in the station, angry murmurs gathering in a rising swell as those nearest them looked back and forth between her and Brett. He backed away, visibly panicking at all the attention aimed his way and she took the opportunity to leap aboard the train. The doors whisked shut behind her.
Making her way towards a seat at the back of the subway car, she ignored the curious glances and looked back through the windows as the train picked up speed. She could see Brett still warding off the angry accusations of the more belligerent pedestrians back on the platform, but his gaze was locked on hers even as the train sped away and he faded into a distant speck.
Before he dropped out of sight, she could have sworn there was a moment where his eyes flashed gold.
But that was just crazy, right?
Tracy Stewart really wanted to meet the person who'd invented the myth that werewolves didn't get headaches. She really did. She wanted to meet him and punch the ignorant fucker right in the face because she definitely had a headache. A boredom headache. Dear god she was sooooo bored.
She was actively engaged in illegal activities while being a supernatural creature of the night and she was bored out of her mind. That shouldn't be possible. Life had so failed to live up to her expectations. She could forgive it the years of torture, of being a freakish experiment of mad scientists who had murdered her father, but this? This betrayal, childhood fantasies of a life of adventure and mystery giving way to a reality that was 90% boredom interspersed with occasional panic attacks?
Unforgivable.
She paused the footage she was reviewing on her computer, taking a moment to reflect on her priorities. Wow. She totally just got why Scott was so worried they were all fucked up in the head.
Oh well.
Mustering her focus with a sigh, she cracked open yet another Mountain Dew and clicked play, traffic cam footage resuming its slow, tedious scroll across her screen.
"Everything alright over there?"
"Peachy keen," Tracy said without bothering to look up from her screen. Tobias hovered in the doorway, frizzy carrot-hued hair a perfect match to the Cheeto stains his fingers were leaving on the wall of her cubicle. "Some idiot hobgoblins got out of control in full view of some traffic cams last night and I'm just making sure I erased it all."
Her lie wouldn't hold up under the scrutiny of werewolf senses, but for all Tobias' brilliance, the cybermancer still was only human. As long as her tone and her level of enthusiasm never strayed far from her default setting of Absolute Boredom, he wouldn't question it. Fortunately, she had lots of actual boredom to draw upon when selling the act. Goddamn, she was so method. Just call her Daniel Day Lewis. Wait, no, just give her Daniel Day Lewis. For an older guy, he was hot. She made a mental note to see what kind of smut-fic there was of him out there. Maybe something from that movie he was in with Leonardo DiCaprio. Oh, that's pretty.
"You're the best, Trace of Bass," Tobias said. For a moment, today was almost the day she clued him in that nobody ever got anything about his references other than the fact that they were from the 90s. But then she realized that would only result in him lingering and talking to her more, and she stopped herself just in time. She liked Tobias, honestly she did. She appreciated the job he'd given her, the skills he'd taught her, his obvious intellect. It was just his presence she could do without.
"That your way of telling me I'm getting a raise, Toby?"
He laughed.
"Nah, just me respecting your awesomeness. It transcends the petty restrictions of capitalism."
"Yeah well, money transcends respect so do me a favor and think about that raise, mmkay?"
He just laughed again. "Will do. Listen, I'm getting out of here for the night and everyone else is already gone, so do me a favor and lock up when you leave, alright?"
"Five percent added to my next paycheck in recognition of the increase in responsibilities and you've got a deal," Tracy said, eyes still on her screen.
"You're ruthless."
"More than you know."
"Alright, you win. This time," Tobias said. He shook his head with a sigh. "Which of is the boss here, again?"
"I think we're still pretending it's you, but if you want to reevaluate that, I'm open to having that conversation."
"Okay, I'm out of here before my self-esteem takes a hit it can't recover from. See you in the morning."
She waved a hand over her head in acknowledgment as she listened to him shuffle down the hallway. He flicked the lights off as he went, leaving her with just the wan illumination of her own screen and the distant light in the front entranceway. The door clicked shut behind him and his footsteps faded as he reached the elevator at the end of the hallway.
"A real piece of work," she heard him mutter under his breath just before the elevator doors dinged shut. She sucked in a startled breath, feeling like she'd just been sucker punched in the chest. It wasn't the words that left her motionless in the dark, staring emptily off into space. It was the subtle affection shading them, that grudging admiration that said she wasn't what he'd expected and he appreciated her all the more for it. It was the way her father used to sound whenever she'd left him surprised, something that had happened more often than not as she reached her pre-teen years. Tracy had no illusions about the kind of man her father had been. A shallow, greedy, self-important lawyer with more than a few misogynistic tendencies that had hampered his ability to relate to her in the wake of her mother's death when she was eight. He hadn't been a particularly good father, hell, he hadn't been a particularly good man, but he'd been hers.
And now…
And now she was not prepared to sit in an empty office building and waste her night wallowing because her daddy was dead and oh what a poor little orphan girl she was. It'd been years. Get over it, girlfriend. She angrily wiped her face and sped up the footage onscreen. The sooner she finished this side project for Scott, the sooner she could get back to wrapping up her own actual work.
Never leave money on the table. That was one thing had father had taught her, had left her with, and she took it to heart. There were sixteen mouths to be fed at her table, after all. Scott had enough to deal with worrying about how fucked in the head they all were, let alone keeping them alive. She couldn't do anything about that, those weren't her skill-sets, but keeping them fed, that she could do.
Tracy did what she could. She didn't know how to do anything less.
She went back another day, putting her at three weeks ago. Started yet again with the cameras closest to the Yukimuras' house, waited until Noshiko's car made an appearance leaving the house and taking her into the city. Followed it through a maze of camera angles to a parking garage in one of the richer parts of town. Speaking of money…Tracy rolled her eyes. At least her cyber-surveillance had revealed one thing. Noshiko Yukimura wasn't lying about her funds. The Yukimura house and vehicles might be nothing fancy, but day by day Noshiko threw around money without a care in the world. Ugh, rich people. Her stomach grumbled and she crinkled open another bag of chips. Imagine being able to eat all the steak you wanted, every day of the week.
Yukimura emerged from the ground level of the parking garage, coming into focus on the street cams as she strolled casually down a sidewalk that took her into an upscale residential neighborhood. Upscale might have been an understatement though. The streets here were flanked by what could only be called mansions as far as she was concerned. Perfectly manicured foliage hid all but a few sparse glimpses of the houses from the prying digital eyes of Big Brother, but the size of the estates alone hinted at the kind of property values she could scarcely conceptualize.
Pausing in front of one such sprawling estate, Noshiko pulled something from her purse before pushing open a wrought iron gate and vanishing beyond the range of Tracy's cameras. She sharpened the image as much as she could, but the exact nature of whatever Noshiko had produced eluded her. Frustrated, she searched for other angles of the house, but the best she could manage was a muddied aerial view of an aged mansion well past its prime and in a state of disrepair. Returning to the main feed, she watched and waited for Noshiko to reemerge. Surprisingly, it was less than five minutes later. Visibly angry, the older woman stalked back to the parking garage at twice the speed at which she'd come from it. From there she returned home, and didn't leave for the rest of the day.
Sitting back, Tracy swiveled in her chair thoughtfully. The ceiling tiles offered no further insight than the camera footage, but there was something significant about that little excursion of Yukimura's, she was sure of it. She hadn't done anything like it on any of her other little errands in the three weeks of activity Tracy had watched, and Scott had said he wanted to know about any deviations from her usual pattern…
Reaching for her phone, Tracy dialed.
"I think I may have found something," she said as soon as Scott picked up.
"Best news I've heard all day," was his curt response. Her brow furrowed.
"That bad?"
He sighed. "This whole thing is a clusterfuck. I think we can safely say that Yukimura's magic charms are definitely not working and somehow Kira's made all of us. I don't know how, but worse, she seems pretty afraid of us. She practically got Brett mobbed to shake him off her trail."
Something in Scott's tone made her concern spike sharply. "Is he alright?"
"He'll be fine. He's just a little shaken up…a crowd of angry humans all focused on him…brought back some unpleasant memories I think."
That's what it was, that familiar edge of self-recrimination in her Alpha's voice. She closed her eyes. "You know that's not your fault, right? There's no way you could have known that would happen."
"Doesn't mean I shouldn't have known it might happen. Brett wasn't ready for this kind of thing. None of us were."
"Well we're here now anyway," Tracy said. "So where do we go from here? It's going to be pretty damn impossible to keep an eye on Kira if she's doing her best to avoid you guys. Yukimura did say if telling her the truth was the only way, go for it. Think maybe that's our best move?"
"I have no idea," Scott said after a pause. "I don't know what to do here, there's a lot more going on than we know about and it's like I can't even see half the board. How am I supposed to know what to do when I don't even know who all the players are?"
Frustration was thick and heavy in the silence that followed. Tracy chewed her lip, unsure what to say. These weren't the kind of sentiments she was used to Scott expressing to her. He unburdened himself (well as much as he ever did) on Malia and the twins, not on her.
"Well I don't know if this will turn out to be anything, but I might have a lead to check out," she said. "I've been tracing Yukimura's movements back over the past few weeks and I found something weird three weeks ago. I'm not really sure what to make of it, but it…I don't know. Something was off about it. She went to a house on the really upscale part of town, the kind of area that's so exclusive there's plenty of parking because most people don't have a reason to be there unless they're already parked in the garage or driveway, you know?"
"Okay?"
"Right, so the thing is…she could have parked there easily, but she parked like two miles away, and then walked there. She took something out of her purse when she got there, I couldn't make out what it was, and then she just strolled right in through the gate. Didn't use the buzzer or announce herself, just went right in. She came back out not even five minutes later and she did not look happy."
"Did you get anything off the address? Any connection to the Yukimuras you could find?"
"No, I checked all that, and there's nothing. No connection to that address through Kira's school, her husband's colleagues, any of Noshiko's social friends I could find. But here's the other thing. I could only get a couple of aerial shots of the house itself, but it's pretty old and rundown, doesn't match the rest of the neighborhood at all, you know what I mean?"
"We're talking about the kind of place where people care as much what their neighbors' houses look like as theirs do, huh?"
"Exactly," Tracy said excitedly. "It's weird, you know? The place looks like it hasn't been lived in since like…I don't know, but decades at least. Millionaires just don't let shit like that sit on their block and bring down the neighborhood."
"Not unless there's something telling them to leave it alone."
"Like magic."
"Like magic," Scott echoed thoughtfully. "I figured there was no way Yukimura came to us first. We had to be a last resort. Could be this is one of her friends or allies from the good old days, and when she went to them for help, they turned her down."
"Could be very useful to know why they turned her down."
"Could be," he echoed again. "Good work, Trace. Anything else?"
She winced, having put this last part off all day, and no better prepared to be the bearer of bad news than when she'd first noticed it that morning. "Yeah, but you're not going to like it."
His voice sharpened with sudden wary intensity. "Like what?"
"You know how I keep tabs on…like anyone who might be looking us, not just Kali and Julia?" Most of the pack didn't have much in the way of family, and that was a massive understatement. Orphans and runaways for the most part, only a few of them had anyone living that they'd be willing to even refer to as actual family. All of them were pretty sure Liam's parents were still alive but he wasn't exactly forthcoming. The twins didn't even know where they'd come from originally, their early childhood a haze of indistinguishable memories before their first alpha found and claimed them when they were around ten. Scott of course was infamous for keeping his own past carefully hidden from all but Malia and the twins, and they would each slit their own throats before ever betraying his confidence. A week ago, the rest of them didn't even know Scott was from a town called Beacon Hills.
So when she said anyone who might be looking for us, they both knew there was only one member of the pack anyone was looking for.
Hayden.
Once the former chimeras in the pack had found themselves free of the Dread Doctors, only Noah and Hayden felt they really had anyone worth returning to. Noah had gone for it. Hayden had not. Her fear her sister would only get hurt by association with her outweighed her hope that she could have a safe and happy life reunited with her, and Scott…well, recent revelations made it a lot easier for Tracy to understand why Scott had never fought her on that, despite his near pathological need to see the members of his pack safe and happy.
But just because Hayden wasn't looking to go home, didn't mean her cop sister ever gave up on bringing her home.
"Tracy, what is it?"
She sighed. "Hayden's sister requested time off from work this morning, went home, and booked a flight to New York."
"She what? Why?"
"I have no idea." Tracy shrugged helplessly. "I've gone over every internet search she's done in the past month from both her personal and work computers, I've hacked her phone, I've done everything I can think of, but I've got nothing."
"What do you mean there's nothing? You said you've been monitoring her investigation into Hayden's disappearance, that she was nowhere near the right track, how does she suddenly out of the blue just buy a plane ticket to our current location?"
"It's an unofficial investigation, Scott, it's completely off the books, no paperwork. I track what I can, but I have no way of knowing what she's written down by hand, who she's talked to in person. I'm telling you, there's nothing on her phone or computer to say how she suddenly connected dots to New York, I don't know how it happened!"
"Okay. Okay," he blew out a frustrated breath in an obvious attempt to de-escalate their rising tension. "I'm sorry, I know I ask a lot of you. I just…"
"It's okay. You're dealing with a lot," she said gently. "Look, maybe this is just a coincidence? Maybe she's not coming here because she actually knows something?"
"You know it's not," he said. "There's too many coincidences, too many convergences. Someone put her on the trail here, someone is pulling strings, and I have no idea if it's this nogitune, if it's Noshiko herself, if its Kali or Julia or the Dread Doctors or someone we haven't even seen coming yet."
"What do you want to do about her?"
"That's up to Hayden. I'll tell her, it's up to her to decide how she wants to handle things once her sister gets here. For now just keep track of her movements. Oh and give me that address Noshiko went to. I'll have Lucas check it out tomorrow, see if he can find out anything more."
"You're the boss."
"Any update on the twins? Everything okay with their transcripts and paperwork?"
"Ethan checked in this morning from the school, said they got through everything with the principal fine and he didn't seem suspicious. I got their class schedules lined up with a good mix of everyone you suspect to be part of this Hale pack, but they hadn't made contact with any of them yet when he called. There was a minor thing this afternoon, but I handled it."
"Shit. What now?"
"Someone hacked the school server to get a look at their transcripts and admissions paperwork, but I double checked everything myself. They shouldn't have found anything that would send up any red flags."
"Probably Danny," Scott muttered. "I should have seen that coming. So you're sure there's nothing to be worried about there?"
"Completely," Tracy assured him. "He's good, but don't worry."
There was nothing she could to do help Scott shoulder the vast majority of the burdens he carried. But she did what she could, and she knew the worth of her own skills. A lupine grin pulled back her lips, showed her teeth as she smiled.
"I'm better."
"Have you found anything yet?"
Danny grimaced and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "No Stiles, nothing in the two minutes since you last asked that. Contrary to what you seem to believe, it's not a magical mantra that makes results materialize faster."
"Hmph." The other boy flopped back into his seat as Danny's fingers resumed their energetic dance across the keyboard in front of him. "You don't need to be a dick about it."
"Maybe you could just let him work?" Lydia suggested from her seat across the library table, sandwiched between Jackson and Cora. It was always best to keep a barrier between those two. "He's only indulging your rampant paranoia as a favor, you know."
"Umm, excuse you? First off, it's not paranoia when everyone really is out to get you."
"Says the one person at this table no one is ever actually out to get," Jackson muttered, head still bent over his chemistry textbook. Stiles shot him an injured look.
"Hey, nobody's ever after Danny either."
"That's only because Danny's smart enough to know when to keep his head down. You're just irrelevant."
"Watch it, Whittemore," Cora growled from the other side of Lydia. Jackson grunted, visibly unimpressed at the implied violence and Danny heaved an internal sigh. When would Derek and his sister get that after all the shit Peter put Jackson through, he was never going to be receptive to another Hale giving him threats or commands? The only reason Jackson stuck around was a distinct lack of options. He wasn't built to be alone when he was human and he definitely wasn't built to be alone as a wolf. The fact that he was self-aware enough to recognize that was the only thing that kept him tethered near the niece and nephew of the psycho who'd bitten him and turned him into his personal killing machine.
Danny subtly kicked Stiles under the table, drawing an aggrieved glare before the other boy rolled his eyes and intervened. They all knew Cora and Jackson were perfectly willing to escalate this to actual physical conflict no matter where they were.
"Second," Stiles said, holding up his finger and continuing as though he'd never been interrupted. "Let's review precedent, shall we? Historically, mysterious strangers rolling into town has never been a random, innocent occurrence. Exhibit A - Derek Hale. 'Nuff said. Exhibit B - Allison Argent transfers to our school, later to learn she is the daughter of an elite clan of werewolf hunters. Exhibit C - the long lost Cora Hale returns to Beacon Hills…which I'm very much okay with by the way, love you babe," he finished in a rush. Cora snorted and flipped through her book, though a pleased smile tinted the corners of her lips.
"You know what all those people have in common though?" Danny asked. "They're all friends of yours now."
Stiles reared back, affronted. "Derek Hale is not my friend!"
"I mean, he's not that bad though," he clarified when Cora raised an eyebrow at him. "Look, I'm just saying! Some hiker gets murdered with a garrote - a freaking garrote of all things - and less than a week later, identical twins roar up on motorcycles wearing leather jackets and transfer in the middle of October. That doesn't strike anyone else as odd?"
It wasn't that nobody else thought it was odd so much as he just made it too much fun to needle him about it instead, Danny wanted to point out. But Lydia had that covered.
"Just to clarify, are you saying they're obviously evil because they're twins, or is it the motorcycles and the leather jackets part of that sentence that makes them evil? Because sometimes leather jackets aren't proof of moral alignment. They're just proof a hot guy can really wear them well."
"Well identical twins are still creepy," Stiles huffed. "And again, recent murder victim strangled to death by a garrotte, not even a week ago?"
"Identical twins are hot," Danny mumbled in protest. Lydia shot him an amused grin before going back to playing with her toys.
"Tell you what. You bring me the straight one, and I'll personally frisk him myself. See if I find it in his jeans or if I come across something more…taut."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, because I know you're just trying to annoy me now," Stiles said loftily. Jackson grunted.
"Took you long enough."
"Anyway, my point is they're clearly evil and sleeping with them would probably make your genitals rot and turn green or something, but whatever, it's your life."
"Gross. Who's evil and why are we talking about rotting genitals?" Isaac asked as he dropped into an unclaimed seat, long legs sprawled over the side in an expression of lazy irreverence that made the librarian cough in his direction. He discreetly flipped her off and shifted position.
"Stiles thinks the new twins are evil and he's upset Lydia and Danny want to bang them," Jackson said. Isaac nodded sagely.
"Ah, the new guys? Yeah, I hate them."
"Thank you!" Stiles threw his hands up, prompting another glare from the librarian. "This is why Isaac's my favorite."
"To be fair, I hate everyone I'm not currently sleeping with. No offense," Isaac blithely continued. "But the gay one - Ethan? Ethan. Yeah, I'd do him, probably."
"Traitor."
Danny glanced up from lines of coding, intrigued despite his better judgment. "Really? That's not just a rumor then? One of them really is gay?"
If he trusted any werewolf to recognize the scents and implications of arousal, it was Isaac. He did have more sex than the rest of them combined after all, courtesy of his two girlfriends, Allison and Erica. He had to hand it to Allison - she'd turned teenage rebellion into an art form, a three pronged assault on all her parents' sensibilities at once. Want to skewer your parents' staunch conservatism? Date a girl. But nah, don't give them a chance to regroup and craft a response to your newfound gayness - date a boy too. Parents never get bisexuality. Want to skewer their over-dependency on traditional dynamics? Date both at once. Want to skewer their bigoted militant stance against the supernatural? Date werewolves. Want to really fuck with them? Do all of the above, all at the same time.
It was a thing of beauty, really. Danny considered it an honor and a privilege to have been present the day Victoria Argent discovered just who her daughter was dating. Trading shifts as Isaac and Erica's bodyguards for the next two months just in case she tried to murder them had absolutely been worth it.
"Oh for sure," Isaac nodded, shooting him a smirk. "He was totally giving you the ole' pheromone stink eye when he passed you in the hallway earlier."
Danny chose to ignore Isaac's unfortunate delivery of that sentence in order to focus on the more important aspects of it. "Really?" He asked, mouth suddenly dry. Isaac just widened his smirk.
"Danny, no!" Stiles said, aghast. "You can't date evil."
"Don't be such a prudish Quaker woman, Stiles," Lydia sighed. "Danny's not thinking about dating him."
"Also really not sure they're evil," Danny said. He leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles, reviewing his screen again just to see if he'd overlooked anything. "I've gone through everything I can find, and it all checks out. Aiden and Ethan Bishop, age 18, just transferred from North Carolina where their dad was last stationed. He's in the army, their mom's deceased, he's supposed to consult on some defense project in the San Francisco area and he sent them on ahead of him so they'd miss as little school as possible. I mean, it all looks legit."
Stiles frowned, clearly dissatisfied with this explanation.
"All of you shut up," Cora said, sitting up straight in her chair. They followed her gaze just in time to see the twins stroll through the library doors. "Speak of the devil…"
"See?" Stiles muttered. "Cora gets that they're evil."
She smacked the back of his head.
The twins stood framed in the doorway, drawing the attention of far more curious eyes than just their own table. Hey, they were hot leather wearing motorcycle riders after all, and you didn't need to be knowledgeable about the supernatural to see that. Wasn't like Beacon Hills High got many new students either. They were clearly aware of the scrutiny and didn't appear too happy about it, still searching for an empty table to get them out of the unintended spotlight they'd landed themselves in when Lydia took pity on them.
Well, in as much as Lydia ever took pity on someone.
"Hello, eye candy," she shouted across the room, drawing all eyes her way (along with a full on coughing fit from the aged librarian, which being Lydia, she completely ignored). "Over here!"
The twins exchanged inscrutable looks before shrugging and heading their way. Danny dropped his chin to his chest with a groan, echoed by Stiles. There was no way this was going to end well.
"Well," Lydia drawled as they neared the table. "Someone's a little conceited. I shout 'eye candy' into a crowded room and you just assume I'm talking to you?"
Brief startlement washed across both faces before one cracked open in a wide grin. "We were just taking an educated guess, but I mean, if you want us to leave…"
Lydia sighed dramatically. "Oh I don't know. You're already here and we do have two empty chairs, so I suppose you might as well stay."
"I'm Lydia," she continued as they dropped their backpacks to the table and settled into the two empty chairs, one right across from Lydia and the one who'd yet to speak seating himself right next to Danny with a smiling nod in his direction. Danny bobbed his head back in the absolute smoothest movement he'd ever managed - or at least that was what he was trying to convince himself when he caught Jackson's shoulders shaking with silent mirth. "This is Jackson, Cora, Isaac and Stiles. The strapping young gay making heart eyes at your brother is my friend Danny."
He was going to murder her.
"I'm Aiden, and this is Ethan," the more talkative brother said. "But I'm guessing you probably already knew that."
"Hmm. And there we are, back to that whole conceit problem."
"Just trying to give credit where credit's due," Aiden protested with a grin. "I mean, a girl like you is clearly at the top of the food chain. I just figured you'd be the first to know of anything new happening around here."
"Muscles and a quick tongue. I might keep this one," Lydia said. Seated right next to his ex, Jackson rolled his eyes. "You made one tiny little mistake though."
"What's that?"
Lydia leaned back, affording Aiden's hungry gaze an unobscured view of her best (well, favorite) angles.
"There is no one else like me."
Danny joined Jackson in rolling his eyes. Isaac barked out a laugh that vanished into his hand when she shot a withering glare his way.
"I think I'm going to like it in Beacon Hills," Aiden said.
"You sure? Beacon Hills is the unofficial murder capital of the world, dunno if you've heard. Lots of wild animal attacks," a new voice joined the back and forth. Both twins sat up, exchanging identical looks of confusion. Lydia sighed and glowered at an unrepentant Stiles. "What? Just think they should know what they're getting into. You guys hadn't heard?"
"No, we didn't know anything about that," Ethan said at last. "This is…common here?"
"Stiles is exaggerating," Lydia glared. "We had some problems a couple years ago but it's not always like that."
"Well not until recently," Stiles said. "But then just last week, bam, another murder. Some guy got killed with a garrotte."
"A garrotte? Like one of those wires you strangle someone with?" Aiden asked, paling. Danny was starting to get a bad feeling from this conversation. Please don't let Stiles be right…it was possible they were just freaked out hearing their new town had a murder problem, right?
"Yeah, exactly like that," Stiles said. He tilted his head. "Kinda surprised you know what that is. Most people don't."
"Our dad's in the military," Ethan cut in with a quick glance at his brother. "We know a lot about weapons."
"Ah," Stiles nodded. "Weird that he didn't hear anything about the seedier aspects of Beacon Hills before sending you out here all alone."
The brothers just smiled tightly. Nobody at the table addressed the fact that Stiles shouldn't have access to that sort of information. Shit.
"Like Ethan said, we didn't hear anything about any deaths," Aiden said. "The only thing that came up when our dad was researching the school was a disappearance a couple years ago. A kid who ran away?"
Danny frowned, the rest of the pack mirroring his confusion.
"McDonnell or something?" Aiden said into the silence. "Mc…something anyway."
The bottom dropped out of Danny's stomach, even as Stiles' eyes narrowed into slits. Oh fuck.
"Think you got your information wrong there, buddy." Stiles' voice was an arctic wasteland, completely devoid of warmth. "His name was McCall, and he didn't run away. He was murdered."
"What?" Rocking back in his chair with a stricken look, Aiden looked absolutely poleaxed. "Are you sure?"
"I mean, of course you're sure," Ethan interjected hastily, when the expression on Stiles' face morphed from incredulity into a quiet fury. "He didn't mean it like that, it's just…we didn't know."
"No big deal," Stiles said. "Scott McCall was only my best friend."
He braced his hands against the table and stood. "Excuse me. I gotta go take a dump."
"We didn't know," Ethan repeated quietly, once Stiles had gone. Aiden was silent, staring after him with an indecipherable expression Danny had no idea what to do with. Nothing about this conversation had gone how he'd expected. "What we…we didn't hear anything about that."
"It's fine," Lydia said. "No reason you should have known."
"What did happen?" Ethan asked. "So we don't put our foot in our mouth again?"
"None of us were exactly close with him," Danny said, cautiously testing the waters of a subject that was pretty much never touched by universal agreement. At least not in Stiles' vicinity. "He and Stiles were best friends, but it was before any of us were even friends with Stiles."
"Scott's dad was an FBI agent," Lydia picked up. "The official story is this guy with a grudge against Agent McCall, someone he'd put away a long time ago, he murdered Scott to get back at his dad. Sent him a taped confession and everything, but he killed himself before they could find out what he did with the body."
"And unofficially?" Aiden asked. His eyes were dark without any of the light-hearted flirting he'd previously engaged in. That might have been painful to watch at the time, but Danny shivered now. Something told him this wasn't someone he wanted to see truly upset. "You said the official story."
Lydia spread her hands helplessly. "That's all there is. It's not something people talk about very much."
"Especially around Stilinski," Isaac said.
Aiden just nodded, absorbing that. There was an uncomfortable silence as the seven of them sat awkwardly around the table, in the wake of that utter disaster of a 'welcome to Beacon Hills' moment.
"This really isn't how we wanted our first day at a new school to go," Ethan said, shattering the quiet with a self-deprecating laugh. "I think we'd probably go before we make this worse somehow. Maybe we can try again some other time?"
"Probably a good idea," Danny said, smiling apologetically as the other boy stood. Aiden was already on his feet, staring impatiently in the direction of the doorway.
"Tell your friend we're sorry," Aiden said before they turned to go. "We didn't mean to stir up bad memories. It was…careless of us."
"We'll try," Danny said diplomatically. "I can't promise anything though. Scott is a pretty sore subject where Stiles is concerned."
Aiden just nodded, his gaze still dark and intense. "I understand. Some friends are worth holding a grudge for."
And with that the brothers made their exit, leaving the pack to shuffle uselessly through notes and texts none of them had any interest in while they waited for Stiles to return. Danny let his mind wander to a time back before any of them knew about the supernatural, when they were all just a bunch of dumb freshmen focused on sports and popularity. Scott had just been this quiet, dopey kid he noted in passing, nobody you really paid attention to unless he was in the midst of an asthma attack. He'd been nice though, always with a friendly smile or a shy laugh even if you weren't friends with him and just happened to interact in one of those rare moments when you weren't being a dick obsessed with high school social status.
It was unfortunate, Danny acknowledged, that it took being murdered to make people realize they'd totally overlooked someone's worth while they'd actually been around. He was painfully aware that if Scott McCall had lived to his senior year, they probably still would have never interacted beyond the occasional 'what's up' as they passed each other in the halls. But some sicko with a grudge murdered him to get back at his dad and now the rest of them sat around years later thinking 'oh he deserved better' like they had any right to pretend they knew what he did or didn't deserve? It felt dishonest.
Sometimes Danny wondered if the reasons no one talked about Scott in Stiles' presence were really for Stiles' sake, or for their own.
They all looked up cautiously as Stiles dropped back into his seat, but none of them were stupid - brave? - enough to ask if he was alright. Luckily - strategically? - Stiles had never been one to let a silence linger too long.
"So we all agree they're evil now, right?"
The rest of them exchanged glances.
"Stiles, I think you're still assuming a lot," Lydia ventured. "They seemed pretty sincere to me."
"Were we watching the same conversation? You all saw how they reacted when I brought up the garrotte right? They knew something."
"It's possible they knew something," Danny said, conceding. They definitely had…reacted. But what that reaction meant was still open to interpretation. "They could have just been freaked out though."
"Well I say we need to know for sure," Stiles said stubbornly. "Since you and Lydia already want to get close to them, we might as well use that to our advantage and see what you can learn from that."
Danny's eyes narrowed but he bit his tongue before he could say anything. He knew Stiles was just being especially prickly right now because he felt vulnerable. Didn't make it okay, but it didn't make this the right moment to confront him about it either.
Lydia was not so understanding.
"Ten minutes ago, you freaked out at the idea of me and Aiden. Now you want to pimp me out?"
"It was just a suggestion," Stiles said, undeterred by the icebergs in her own tone. "Lives are at stake and all that, right?"
Lydia stared him down, neither breaking their gaze away, not even when the bell rang and everyone else in the room made moves to gather their things and head to their next class. Finally, Lydia smiled.
"Fine. But if we really want to get some answers out of them, we'll have to bring our A game. Some nachos at the bowling alley are hardly going to cut it. Since Danny and I are doing this for the pack, really, I'm sure you can convince Derek to loan us that black AMEX card he thinks we all don't know he has."
Stiles' jaw worked up and down and he glanced over at Cora, who just snorted. "You're on your own there."
"Fine," he bit out. "I'll see what I can do."
"Great, can't wait," Lydia smiled. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go find Allison and Erica and consult on my wardrobe. I'm thinking something in red, but second opinions never hurt."
She swept out of the library, an amused Isaac trailing in her wake. Cora made her own way to the door, and Jackson looked back, quirking an inquiring eyebrow at Danny when he lingered by the table. He waved his friend off; he'd catch up with him later. Jackson hesitated, looking back and forth between Danny and Stiles before shrugging and wandering off.
"You need something, Danny?"
Danny hesitated, his usual confidence failing him. He had no idea how to broach this particular subject, especially after years of studiously avoiding even the attempt just for the sake of convenience. But it could only be danced around for so long.
"Look, I'm not going to insult you by pretending I know what losing Scott felt like for you. I don't. But I do know you, and while all of us might be pretty dysfunctional friends, I'd like to think we are still friends."
Stiles froze, tension visibly stiffening his shoulders and holding him locked in place in the midst of cramming his books back into his backpack.
"This have a point?"
"You had your reasons for being suspicious of the twins from the start, and I respect that. Maybe they do know something about that recent murder. But we know from Derek, from Allison, from Cora - even if they are connected to the supernatural and are keeping secrets, that doesn't automatically make them the bad guys."
"Fine," Stiles practically snarled. "What does any of that have to do with Scott?"
"It has to do with the fact that Lydia's right. Ten minutes ago you didn't want me or her to go anywhere near them. Now you're ready to pay for our dates yourself, just to pump them for information. You know the only thing to change between then and now? They brought up Scott."
The other boy looked away.
"You don't cope, Stiles," Danny sighed. "You never have. It's not something you do. Something happens that you don't want to deal with, and you do anything else to avoid facing it. You repress, you distract yourself, you pick a fight…whatever it takes so you don't have to confront it. And god help anything that gets in the way of that. You may have been suspicious of the twins already, but then they made you remember Scott, something you've been doing your best to avoid doing for years. And now they're not just suspects anymore, they're the Enemy, and you're off on some crusade to make them pay for that crime."
"That's not fair," Stiles said, his voice coming out tight and strangled. He stared fixedly at a point on the wall, mouth set in a grim line.
"No, it's not," Danny acknowledged gently. "But I notice you didn't say it wasn't true."
Feeling like shit, he turned and walked away.
A cute boy smiled at me at school today, he thought to himself as he wandered the hallways to his next class. And now when all I want to do is ask him out for real, I get to pretend and manipulate him just in case he's some kind of supernatural killer. And then I rubbed my friend's dead BFF in his face, because he doesn't get to be a real teenager and waste years coping in an unhealthy but totally valid way, not when there are people being murdered and it's somehow our responsibility. All this before two o'clock on a Tuesday.
He's barely eighteen, Danny reflects. When did it get so hard to tell the good guys from the bad guys?
And how were you supposed to ever be sure which one you really were?
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Don't worry, all will be revealed as to why Scott and those in Beacon Hills have very different ideas about what happened when he disappeared, as will how his absence altered the way events unfolded in Beacon Hills.