What shadow there had been in her mother's eyes the night before was gone when she woke in the morning. She had been as cheery as ever, flitting about the house with an almost frenetic energy and making sure Genie packed a snack for the break during the PSATs. Outside the school, she drew Genie close from across the center console and pressed a kiss to her hairline. Genie sank into her for a moment, allowing the brief comfort, before pulling out of the embrace and moving to exit the car.
"Honey…" her mom whispered, her tone almost pleading. Turning, Genie saw the anxious look on her face again, her mouth pinched tight and her brows furrowed together. "Honey, we could just go home. You don't have to do this today. Are you sure you're-"
"I can't just keep sitting at home, mom," she replied quietly, her voice empty as she stared back at her mother expressionlessly. Part of her wanted to curl up and cry right then and there, but she knew she would only drive herself insane if she kept to herself much longer. It was bad enough that the constant echo of that voice was present in the back of her mind. Maybe forcing herself to do something else would help to drown him out.
Her mother's face stayed concerned, her eyes teary as she swept little pieces of hair from Genie's face, humming under her breath. It was like the first day of school all over again, her mother singing their song quietly as Genie tried to calm herself, hoping beyond hope that she at least looked ready to step back into the building she had been attacked in. She had barely stopped shaking since Thursday night, spending most of her time waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her heart continued to beat just a little too hard, but she forced a small smile onto her face. Blinking up at her mother, she studied the worried look on her face and caught the edge of hard resolve in her eyes, the look that had been there the night before.
Without another word, and without waiting for a response from her mother, Genie slipped from the car and jogged towards the school. There were already small crowds of students loitering in the hall, avoiding actually going into the classrooms. She spotted Scott, Stiles, Isaac, Malia, and Kira among them, clustered together by the lockers. Stiles nudged Scott a few times, each jab of his elbow harder than the last, as she approached. His eyes were narrowed and his lips set in a thin frown as he took a quick look at her, eyes roving up and down. Genie felt a burst of anxiety shoot through her at the look, a little more openly hostile than he had ever been to her in the past few weeks. Her hand moved self-consciously to her neck, rubbing across the scarf that covered the dark mark blotting her skin. The others tensed at her arrival, all of them silent and avoiding her eyes.
Arms crossed over his chest, Stiles was the first to speak up. "My dad's probably going to call your house later to tell your parents this, but he's dead," he informed her, raising his eyebrows as if challenging her to say anything. Genie felt her stomach twist uncomfortably, her mind taking a moment to register who he was talking about. Stiles looked almost like he pitied her for a moment, the frown on his face a little kinder. "Tried to bust his partner out of the transport van. He's not… He's not coming back."
Genie nodded, her breathing a little shallow as she pressed at the mark quickly, feeling almost as if she was pressed against the locker all over again. A throat cleared from besides her and she lifted her eyes to see Isaac, a similar wary, pitying expression to the one Stiles was wearing on his face as well. It only made her feel worse.
"You're alright?" he asked, his tone even but lacking any real emotional inflection. Her fingers pressed a little harder at the mark as she dropped her head and gave a small shrug. Two days prior, she had been attacked by a boy in the hallway to the left, almost choked out against the locker, and the boy who had attacked her had made it quite clear that, had he the permission of time alone, he would have continued to hold her there until she had died. If Genie could find it in her to speak full sentences, she was sure she would say something more biting regarding returning to a place she'd almost been murdered in, but she settled for looking at her feet and dropping her eyes as she shrugged.
"Managing," she muttered, blinking back the water in her eyes. She sniffled quickly, tensing under the pressure of a hand on her shoulder. Scott's eyes were kind when she looked up, ignoring the dirty look Stiles was giving him, but there was a hardness even in his eyes that she had never seem turned towards her. Without a word, Malia gave a quick nod and turned to walk into the classroom. The rest of the group followed after. Isaac lingered for a moment, lips drawn into a tight grimace-like frown, before he too gave a short, impersonal nod and left. With an uncomfortable tightness in her chest, Genie backed away and hurried down the hall to her designated classroom. She pushed through the door and stepped inside, showing her ID quickly to the small woman at the front desk. The teacher, Mrs. Gardner, studied her with blank eyes, blinking between her and the ID silently, before her lips curled into a kind smile.
"Miss Cary, if you would assure us that you are who you say and sign here, and put your fingerprint in the box," she directed, gesturing at the paper in front of her. She also held out a small, manila envelope and asked for her cellphone. Genie did so wordlessly, taking her test booklet from the woman's hands and scurrying towards the far side of the room to sit in the seat with her name on it near the back. After setting down her bag, she pulled out her pencils and an eraser, setting them on her desk and turning her eyes down to stare at the black on her thumb. With a lick to her other thumb, she set about trying to rub the color off. Her eyes glazed over, mind going quiet as the noise in the room grew with every person stepping in.
What had happened in the day she had been gone to have warranted such a cold reception? Genie felt her eyes water despite her resolve to stay calm and swiped angrily at her eyes. She'd been attacked and met with support from her friends, but that support had seemed to morph to, what, suspicion? Suspicion of what?
All of the sophomores in the room seemed nervous once the test started, fidgeting in their seats and wiping sweaty palms on their thighs. A few looked more worse for wear than others, wiping at their brows with their sleeves or breathing too shallowly. Genie herself felt a little too warm, shrugging her shoulders out of her maroon hoodie and pushing up the sleeves of her long-sleeved grey scoop neck shirt. She chanced a look around at the other students before loosening her scarf as well. After another short pause, she pulled the shirt out of the top of her high-waisted jeans. Perspiration was building up at the small of her back and she shifted uncomfortably, jolting when a panicked yell sounded from the hallway. The proctors, Mrs. Gardner and Mr. James, both bolted to the door, several of the more curious students getting up to follow. She hardly had time to focus on the doorway when the student in front of her seemed to crumple under his own weight and fall to the floor.
Genie's fingers twitched, her pencil slipping from her grasp and onto the ground as the room seemed to pause for a moment in the aftermath. She didn't even bother to pick it up, her eyes darting to look at the door before she slipped from her seat and rolled the boy on the ground over. Every day, she saw him in homeroom, but she couldn't remember his name at all.
"Hey. Hey!" she called, shaking his shoulders a little as he started to blink up at the lights. His breathing seemed labored, his hands clammy when he grabbed at her wrist. She flinched despite herself, frowning as the boy started to sit up. Reaching out a hand to feel across his forehead, she glanced up at the other boy who was perched on his knees right behind the one on the floor to help hold him upright. "Hey, are you alright? You're- You're burning up."
He gasped in a breath, nodding his head with a lopsided bounce as he tried to stand, but the boy behind him held him down. "Man, you don't look so good," he muttered, turning around and calling for another student to get one of the teachers. The rest of the students were ushered back into the classroom, followed by Mr. James. He moved quickly in their direction, shoving a desk out of the way to kneel down by the boy's side.
"Michael? Hey, Michael, what's going on, buddy? You not feeling alright?" he asked, his voice low but edged with a hint of anxiety. Genie looked up at the doorway, watching with furrowed brows as Ms. Martin paced outside of the door. She looked panicked, her voice tight as she spoke on the phone.
"M'alright, Mr. James," Michael mumbled, blinking blearily up at him. Clicking heels came closer, Ms. Martin walking into the room with Mrs. Gardner right behind her, her face pinching up in worry when she saw the group of them on the ground. She slipped through the spaces between the desks and crouched down, pulling at Michael's clothing a little and inspecting him before noticing an angry looking purple-red patch of veins and white painful looking welts just below his collar. Just as quick as she came, she hurried from the room with Mrs. Gardner following on her heels.
Within the hour, it was apparent that something was seriously wrong. People in yellow hazmat suits flooded the halls, taping off vents and setting up a quarantine zone for anyone who was sick. Mr. James and Genie led Michael down the hall, his feet dragging as they went and his head lolling about as if he had little control over his movements. Once he was deposited on a bed in the quarantine room, Genie backed out of his small area, reaching a hand up to her mouth to bite at her thumbnail nervously. She startled when her back hit another person, whirling around to see Scott standing behind her with a tense look on his face. His eyebrows rose together in concern when Genie swayed, a hand clamping around her arm to steady her.
"Hey, you alright? You look a little- like- too warm," he asked, reaching his other hand up to her forehead. Genie shook her head, her hair sticking to the damp skin on the back of her neck. His hand felt blessedly and she leaned into the touch for a moment, eyes fluttering once before popping back open.
"I'm okay. Just- Freaked out," she supplied, relaxing when he drew his hand away from her head. She pulled her hair away from her neck, swiping at the sweat there and grimacing. The scarf had long been left behind, marks or no. Her heart was racing too fast, however, and she couldn't stop the short, panicked breaths as she tried to remain calm. "School is supposed to be safe, y'know? I'm just- One too many bad things happening in schools, for my taste."
Scott frowned, the look contemplative as he watched Genie fidget. If anything, it made her fidget more. Gaze dropping to her neck for a fraction of a second, Scott's grip on her arm tightened a little and then dropped. "Is this about Thursday, or-"
Her hand reached up reflexively to her neck, her posture tensing as she looked down. "Y-Yeah, that's- I mean, part of it," she mumbled, shuffling her feet awkwardly. Her eyes watered as she shut them tight and shook her head, trying to keep herself from crying. When she finally looked up, Genie knew she must look like a wounded animal. She took in a quick breath, rubbing at her neck more firmly despite the twinge of pain it caused. "This girl at my old school, she just- She was like the only friend I had there. We were waiting after school one day for our rides and I left before her, but apparently when her brother showed up to get her, she was just-"
Her voice faded, words lost as she shut her mouth with a snap. Despite the number of times Genie had told her parents that she was okay, she wasn't sure she ever really could be. Her family had gotten a phone call just an hour after she had gotten home from school, followed by a visit from the police, followed by questioning, followed by endless days of Genie unable to move from her bed. She hadn't even been able to go visit Emily in the hospital, busy packing up her life in cardboard boxes and pretending like she was okay with moving across the country when her only friend had been found comatose on school property.
A quick, shallow breath forced its way from her lungs, attempting to balance her out, but it was hard. It had only been a little over a month since everything had happened and still nothing felt right. Genie felt like she was walking on eggshells with her every step. Even her mother seemed to be waiting for something to happen with baited breath now, but Genie couldn't figure out what that hard look in her eyes meant.
"It came out of nowhere. Just, one day she's fine and the next she's lying in a hospital bed maybe never waking up again, but I just- I don't understand. Everything just feels too unreal lately, like I'm staring at two similar pictures and I can't figure out what's wrong with one of them," she admitted, blinking quickly and taking a deep breath.
The look on Scott's face dropped to a cross of pity and anguish, a hand reaching out to pull her into a hug. It was a stark contrast from the looks she had been given early by the rest of the group, but it was unsettling nonetheless. When he pulled away, his eyes seemed unfocused, like he was looking at a ghost somewhere behind her. "A bit much for high school, huh?"
Genie hummed softly in agreement, nodding her head and swiping at her eyes. Before her, Scott gave a fleeting smile before wincing, shutting his eyes tight and taking a step back.
"Scott? Hey, you okay?" she questioned, moving forward to reach a hand up to his forehead. He pushed the hand away, however, and stumbled back. With a quick apologetic look, he turned on his heels and hurried from the room. She made to move after him, only for a hand on her shoulder to stop her. Ms. Martin was looking towards the doorway with a concerned frown until her gaze shifted to Genie.
"Are you alright?" she asked quietly. Genie nodded, her head jerking quickly as she plastered on a small, undoubtedly unconvincing smile. When Ms. Martin removed her hand, she ducked her head and took a step away. "Is Scott okay? He rushed out of here pretty fast."
For a moment, Genie hesitated, letting her hand drop from her neck to curl in the hem of her shirt. "I- Uh- I don't know," she muttered, looking towards the doors before Ms. Martin excused herself and walked out after Scott.
Time passed slowly, the heat in her veins growing little by little. It seemed like everyone else was feeling the same budding burn, removing jackets and sweaters, revealing angry patches of skin and being carted off towards the quarantine zone. Despite the heat, Genie pulled her sleeves down to cover the blooming mark by the crease of her elbow. She laid her head down, unable to do much other than let her mind drift into a light, fretful sleep.
ooo
Hours later, perched on the edge of her seat, Genie stared up at the covered windows as the natural light behind them grew fainter and was replaced by harsh, artificial light instead. The classroom was mostly empty, the majority of the students having gotten sick. Both of the teachers looked exhausted but untouched by the fever, hands swiping over their concern-wrinkled faces and eyes blinking out at the students who were left. Genie lifted a hand to rub at the irritated skin on the side of her neck, taking in a deep breath to fend of the lightheadedness she had been resisting for the past hour. Her grey shirt was darker under her arms, across her back, and on her stomach, but she couldn't bring herself to care.
Though she felt better than she had the few hours prior, Genie by no means felt good. However, she didn't feel like she was going to pass out any longer, either. Thankful for having avoided lying in a quarantine bed, Genie let out a relieved sigh and lifted her head from her hands. Standing slowly, she made her way to the door, making sure to open her eyes a little wider and give a quick smile to the two teachers as she said she needed to use the bathroom. Both seemed to relax at that, telling her to hurry back and to go to quarantine if she needed. As soon as she was out of their sight, she leaned up against the lockers and took in a deep breath. Pressing her face against the cool metal, she took a moment to collect herself before continuing to walk down the hallway.
"Miss? Miss, you don't look so well," a concerned voice called, causing Genie to stumble and put a little more weight on the locker. She turned, blinking up at the man who was approaching her in a pale grey shirt and striped tie. His hair was combed to the side and he had a patronizing frown on his face, a hand reaching out to grab her upper arm. "Come on. Let's get you to quarantine."
All of her energy to protest seemed to leave her as she walked unsteadily next to the man, stumbling every few feet and leaning into him for support. 'Perhaps I should have gone to quarantine earlier after all,' she mused, blinking through the tired haze settling over her. She scanned her eyes across the locker and over the door markers, focusing on keeping her feet beneath her as they took a turn. It took much longer in her state for her to realize they were going the wrong way, her mouth twisting in confusion as her mind started to recognize the numbers on the doors growing large rather than smaller. The quarantine was at the other end of the hall. Genie opened her mouth to protest and turned her head to look at the empty hall behind her, the noise cut off when she was shoved forward through the open door to the boys' locker room.
Stumbling into the lockers with a resounding bang, Genie whipped around to stare wide-eyed at the man who had led her to the room, her head swimming at the sudden movement. He shut the door with a quiet click, turning to face her with a stoic look. In an instant, Genie's stomach dropped and her pulse raced quicker in quickly mounting panic. Without thinking, she opened her mouth to scream, but the man's hand pressed over her lips before a sound could get out. A quiet sob was muffled behind his hand as she tried to stumble back, but he had her boxed in.
"Now, let's not try something stupid like that again, shall we, Miss Cary?" he chided, leveling her with a commanding look until she nodded quickly against his hold. He spoke as if speaking to a child. Her eyes watered as she gave another muffed sob. "Good. This way, please."
His hand stayed across her mouth as he turned her around, his other hand settling on her waist to guide her towards the back of the locker room where the showers were tucked behind a wall. He pushed her forward again, steps slow as he followed after her stumbling form. Genie clung to the nearest divide, shaking her head and whimpering as she backed away from him and into one of the stalls. A quiet desperate sob escaped her, the word please lost in the way her voice thickened from her tears. He tilted his head, studying her silently.
"You know, I'm still not quite sure what you are, Miss Cary," he admitted, face drawn in quiet confusion. A bitter taste flooded through her mouth at his words, but not because of the undertone of contempt. Genie stood up a little straighter, her panic paused for a moment as she stared at him in disbelief. With a knowing hum, the man continued forward. The air was punched out of her as she remembered her mother's words from the night before, the phrasing that had left her reaching for something she didn't understand.
"There are some people out there that would hurt you just for being what you are."
For a moment, Genie felt like she was drowning, unable to take in a sufficient breath as the man stepped closer still. He smiled, too sweet and sour all at once. "I was hoping that the infection would attack you in the same way it's surely attacking the others, but you seem to be getting… better," he continued, his light eyes squinting as he watched her back herself into the corner. Genie had a hand wrapped around her own throat, tiny noises of disbelief strangled inside of her as she trembled against the tile with wide eyes. "So, you're not a dog… McCall has a habit of picking up some interesting strays, though. You're not worth nearly as much as one of the pack, but two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars is still a nice sum. I might as well collect while I can, don't you think?"
Genie stumbled to the opposite side, her feet slipping against the floor as he grew closer. Her mind couldn't wrap around what he was saying, his voice sounding too far away to her ears despite how he was leaning into her space. A shiver shot through her, her arms wrapped haphazardly around her own body as she tried press herself closer to the wall, to shield herself in some way. Never in her life had Genie felt so helpless, not even when she had been pressed against the locker. She couldn't find it in herself to try and fight back like she had that night. The man in front of her was staring with rapt attention, eyes steady as he leaned closer, tracing a finger contemplatively over the mark on her throat with a hum. Looking up, he gave a dark smile.
The click of a door being quickly opened and closed sounded from the other side of the room. Genie didn't have time to react before the man's hand was pressed over her mouth again, keeping her quiet in the stall as her hands scrambled for purchase on the tile behind her. A loud slam echoed from the same place as before, and the man turned to her with a finger on his lips, a silent warning. Nodding her head frantically, Genie slapped one of her own hands over her mouth and slid down the wall a few inches, her knees shaking as she watched the man stalk towards where Coach Finstock's office was located. She could barely see through her tears, listening as the noises slowed and then stopped altogether. Silence stretched out for a moment, broken by the man's faint, sarcastic voice.
"I was wondering how that idiot got sick."
Something shattered, Genie's heart leaping at the sound as she squeezed her eyes shut and leaned against the tiled wall at her side. Her hand slipped across the surface, palms sweaty and her fingers twitching as she inched back towards the opening to the locker room area.
"I'm also wondering where your friends are, since in order to get paid by the Benefactor I need to have proof they're dead," the man's voice continued, almost teasing. A response, too quiet and muffled for her to hear, followed a beat of silence. "Exactly."
Genie pushed herself away from the wall, stepping quickly towards the divide between the two sections of the locker room and peering out into the dark where the benches and lockers were arranged. Two figures drew closer, one forced ahead of the other, the cold metal of a gun glinting behind his head. She wanted to scream, to run, to do anything, but Genie found herself frozen, crouched half behind the wall with her hand still covering her mouth as she locked eyes with the other person. A rush of pure fear shot through her, her fingers tightening over her mouth as she sank closer to the ground.
"Stiles," she whispered, eyes watering in frustration at the position they were in. A short shake of his head silenced her without a word. He looked her over quickly, though, all hostility from earlier gone as he seemed to register just what he had walked in on. Genie could only watch helplessly as the man looked between the two of them and then focused his attention back on Stiles.
"You still look feverish, Mr. Stilinski. You should know something. The virus doesn't kill humans. You'll get better, so don't you think you should tell me where they are? Shouldn't one of you get to live?" the man drawled, coming to a stop behind Stiles. Stiles kept his eyes on Genie as he took a breath, the tense lines in his mouth settling as he gave her a tense smile.
"I think I saw them in the library… or it might have been the cafeteria. It was definitely one of those two," he drawled, and Genie almost didn't recognize the voice. It was harder than she had ever heard it, more sure, but also more mocking. She had never heard him speak like that, not to her or to anyone in the group, but he was speaking to a man with a gun to his head as if he was the one holding the reins.
"I'm going to count to three, and then I'm going to kill you."
Stiles breathed out slowly, straightening his shoulders and turning around to face the man in the grey shirt. The gun was pressed against his head, she was sure, but Stiles didn't waver. If anything, he seemed to grow taller. "Think you can scare me?"
"No, I think I can kill you," the man replied matter-of-factly, the look on his face portraying clearly just how great a pleasure the action would be for him. His eyes flickered to Genie's for a moment, a cruel smile curling his lips. "I just thought the countdown would make it more exciting for all of us. So, one."
Her fingers slid from her lips to scrabble at the divide as she watched Stiles begin to tremble, the first outward sign of fear he had shown during the entire confrontation. A small, choked sob forced itself out of her. She was barely aware of it when she started chanting please and don't in a pitiful, wrecked voice.
"Two."
From the corner of her vision, Genie saw a flicker of movement from behind the man. Her eyes widened as she saw the yellow hazmat suit in the doorway, an arm raised in their direction. She didn't have time to close her eyes before she heard an overpowering bang, like a firework being set off in a box. Stiles flinched, sputtering as blood sprayed towards them both. Reaching a shaking hand up to her face, Genie swiped at her check and found that her fingers came away red. As the man's body crumpled, wide blue eyes stared at her in disbelief and then without focus, the mocking glint in them gone entirely as the man went still on the floor.
Genie couldn't look away as she slid to the ground. The man in the hazmat suit took off his hood, and she could hear Stiles talking to him in a breathy, unsteady voice, but she couldn't focus on anything other than the man on the floor. Her heart was beating too quickly in her chest, her breathing coming out in short stuttered gasps, but she couldn't tear her eyes away, not even as the red began to blossom from the hole in his head in a thick stream. That could have been her. Twice, within the span of two days, Genie could have been the one laying on the ground with cold, dead eyes staring out at the world. It was only when Stiles crowded into her personal space that she was able to break the eye contact.
Stiles's eyes narrowed as he looked her over once, asking her quietly if she was hurt but disregarding the wounded noises she was making, before leaning in closer to talk quietly in her ear. If anything, his words only caused her panic to flare higher, her throat constricting painfully as she tried to breathe in. "Don't say a word until one of us finds you, okay?" he whispered, backing up quickly and looking into her eyes. Genie gave a sob, closing her eyes tight and curling in on herself more. It seemed to be enough of an answer, because Stiles took off out of the room without another word.
The man in the hazmat suit barely hesitated before bending down to kneel by her side, pushing her head back so he could check her over. Genie's knees were pressed tight to her chest as she shook, unable to stop crying as her gaze slid back to the man on the floor. He was still staring at her, staring right through her, and Genie was sure she'd never be able to forget those pale eyes as long as she lived. A wave of nausea rolled through her and she wrenched out of the man's grasp, crawling across the dirty tiled floor and heaving helplessly by the nearest drain. From behind her, she heard the man huffing and the sound of a zipper before finally a warm hand pressed against the small of her back and comforted her through another bout of useless gagging.
She couldn't register how much time had passed, not really, so she didn't know how much later it was when she looked up from her knees from where she was curled against the wall with a shock blanket around her shoulders. The man had been covered with a dark sheet of fabric, severing the draw Genie felt to look in his eyes, but she could still picture him, could still see the pool of blood soaking into the floor in the dark. Her body was still, despite how badly she was sure she had been shaking just a moment before. She felt cold to the bone, hardly able to think or move. Blinking wearily, Genie looked up at a quiet call of her name. Sheriff Stilinski was staring down at her with a worried expression from beside the man who had saved Stiles, who had saved her. The Sheriff crouched down beside her, reaching out a hand slowly and waiting for her to lean towards him before he brushed some of her hair out of her face.
"Genie… Let's get you out of here, yeah?"
Her head bobbed in a jerky nod, but she didn't move, eyes fixed on the blood on the floor. The Sheriff stepped in front of her vision and reached out a hand. With another unsteady bob of her head, Genie pushed herself against the wall a little, accepting the Sheriff's help to stand up completely. He kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her through the door, the man from the hazmat suit staying behind. The hallways were emptying out, most of the students pushing their way through the far double doors. Still silent, Genie returned to her test room to grab her bag, cellphone, sweatshirt, and scarf, quickly looping the last item around her neck with shaky fingers. Every step she took felt unsteady, her legs wobbling dangerously as she stared straight ahead. Sheriff Stilinski stopped her just before the doors, turning her with a gentle hand and ducking his head to look her in the eyes. Her abdomen clenched when she saw the questioning look in his eyes, his gaze hardening when he saw her tense up.
"Genie, I'm going to have to ask you a few questions," he started, his face drawn lips drawn down in tortured remorse. Wordlessly, Genie blinked up at him, her eyes gone dry and her mouth pressed in a firm line.
"Can it wait?"
He blinked, surprised at the quiet question, before sighing and rubbing a hand across his eyes. "I know this must have been very traumatic, but I need to know exactly what happened in-"
"Please, Sheriff Stilinski," she begged, her voice breaking as she let out the plea. Genie closed her eyes for a moment, pulling the shock blanket from around her shoulders and pushing it into his hands. What had happened in that room would probably never leave her and she wanted nothing more than to forget it had ever been real. Besides, Stiles had told her not to speak about it, not yet. She felt herself tremble as she remembered the determination in his eyes as he turned to face the man with the gun, as if he had had his life threatened countless times before. It had been almost routine. Her stomach lurched at the thought. How could almost dying be routine? Not only that, but how could almost being murdered in cold blood be something you were used to enough to stare it in the face and hold your ground?
"Genie, we've got to call your parents and figure out what-"
"Dad!"
Genie blinked tiredly, turning her gaze from the Sheriff to see Stiles jog away from Kira and her father and down the hall towards where she and the Sheriff were standing. The older man visibly relaxed when Stiles threw his arms around him, gaze breaking from Genie to squeeze shut. His arms wound tight around his son as Genie took a step back, watching the two carefully as Stiles slid his gaze to her. For a moment, he just stared, patting a hand over his dad's back and telling him he was okay, but he wouldn't look away from Genie with those calculating eyes. She returned his gaze stoically, unable to look away but unable to move. Sheriff Stilinski backed out of the embrace first and Genie turned her eyes to the floor. A gruff voice called out from down the hall and drew everyone's attention. The tall, dark-haired man who had shown up in the hazmat suit was walking towards them with long strides, Scott trailing after him.
"Stiles, uh- Genie, was it?" the man asked, extending a hand towards her. She took it silently, nodding her head. When he pulled his arm back, Scott ducked in front of him to pull Genie into a tight hug. She let out a small squeak, eyes going wide as she reflexively tried to push him back, but reined herself in to give him a hug just before the boy pulled away. Scott sighed, murmuring quietly that he was glad Genie was okay. She stayed his hold until she noticed the dark-haired man's eyebrows raise into his hairline. "Right… I'm Agent McCall. Would you be willing to come back to the station for a little bit, so we can get your statements on record?"
Without even thinking about it, Genie's eyes flicked to look at Stiles and found him staring right back. His lips were set in a firm line, his face still marked by the red spatter of blood from the man with the pale eyes, and he looked about as exhausted at Genie felt. She looked back down at her shoes, unable to hold her head high for any longer, especially when she saw the quizzical pull to the Sheriff's mouth behind his son.
"Yeah, okay. Sure," Stiles breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down towards his shoes as well.
"I have to get in touch with my mom… God- I don't- Yeah, that's fine," Genie replied, voice shaking. Her stomach dropped at the mere thought of calling her mom. She plucked her phone from her pocket and typed in her mother's number quickly, hesitating and staring at it before ultimately pressing the call button. Her heart skipped in her chest when her mother picked up nearly at the first ring. "Mom?" she answered hoarsely. There was a moment of static on the other end before her mother's voice became clear. Her posture still didn't relax as she lifted her gaze to lock eyes with Stiles.
"Genie? Oh God, honey. Genie, oh my God, you're okay- Are you okay? Where are you? I'm outside the school and-"
Genie grimaced, stepping away from the group with an arm thrown around her middle as she pulled the phone away from her ear a few inches. She peered out the window of the door, scanning back through the crowd to spot her mom standing by her dark car, bouncing in place. "I'm alright, mom," she assured, screwing her eyes shut and leaning her head forward to smack against the door. "I- Uh- I'm inside. Can you-"
"I'm already coming inside. These deputies couldn't hold me back if they tried," came her mother's determined voice.
The line went dead, signaling that Mrs. Cary had hung up, and Genie looked up to see her barging past the perimeter and up the steps. In a matter seconds, she was bursting through the door and pulling Genie close to her with a sob. Where her mother was all motion, Genie found she couldn't move. Her arms stayed by her sides as she let her head fall onto her mother's shoulder, listening to her cry and staring with blank eyes towards Stiles. He blinked back, his brow creasing worriedly and his mouth twisting into a pucker, as if he was sucking on a lemon. Her own face stayed lax, but she raised her arms to circle around her mother's waist slowly, watching as Stiles gave a barely perceptible nod. Hugging her mother felt so forced, the weight of her limbs all too clear to Genie as she tried to fight the wave panic prickling at the back of her mind, her mother's and the man's words looping over and over in distinct synchronicity.
She pulled back, despite her mother's attempts to keep her close. To make up for it, her mother began to fuss with wiping futilely at the blood that Genie hadn't gotten around to cleaning from her face.
"Mrs. Cary," the Sheriff greeted, holding out a hand. Her mother paused in her attempts to reach out and shake his hand, giving him a brief smile.
"Sheriff Stilinski. I had hoped I wouldn't be seeing you again so soon after you called," she replied. Scott's father stepped forward to introduce himself, but Genie was distracted from the three adults by the hand that came down to give her shoulder a gentle squeeze.
With a startled gasp, Genie spun around to face the person, stumbling at the sudden movement and reaching up to grab onto them. "Whoa, whoa, it's just me! It's just- I've got you," Isaac assured, reaching his other hand out to steady her around the waist. Genie took in a deep breath, staring up at him with tired eyes for a moment before letting her head fall forward to thunk against his chest. In the brief moment she had looked up at him, Genie could only see his pale, drawn face and a darkness in and around his eyes that made her want to curl up and pretend this day had never happened, to any of them. The hand on her waist came to rest on the back of her head and his other arm circled around her shoulders to draw her close. Letting out a shaky sigh, Genie raised her own arms to wrap around his waist and clenched her fists in his t-shirt. A flush of warmth surged through her, waking her bones a little as she took in a deep, steadying breath.
"You smell horrible," he whispered weakly as he dropped his head to rest on top of hers. She couldn't even deny the statement, her nose scrunching up for half a second in annoyance before she shrugged.
"Thanks," she replied flatly, sniffling against him. He hummed in response, squeezing her just a bit harder for a moment and then letting her go. Reluctantly, Genie backed away and rubbed a hand at her eyes. Isaac turned to lean on the lockers next to Scott and Stiles, and Genie backed herself into the space between Stiles and Isaac. All four of them were silent, staring with unfocused eyes at the walls and floor and their own fingers, but none of them spoke.
It was Agent McCall who broke the spell, stepping in front of them with Sheriff Stilinski. He looked between Stiles and Genie with a small, sad frown. "Are you kids ready? We've got to get your statements about what happened tonight, and it's best to get them out of the way now and then get you home."
Genie glanced at Stiles beside her, who gave a sharp nod. She reached out a hand to grab at his fingers, trying to ignore the same empty aching expression in his eyes that she had seen in Isaac's just moment before. His hand flexed in a jumpy motion before squeezing tight around hers in turn. His eyes were kinder when they looked down at her, but still guarded like they were this morning.
With a sigh, he looked up at Scott's father with barely restrained displeasure. "Let's get this show on the road, Agent McCall."
A/N: Really appreciate all the new readers, and the few of you new subscribers. Here's the last of the previously added chapters with some edits and additions, which means the next chapter will be entirely new material again. This was one of my favorite episodes in season 4, so it was really fun to go back through it and write out a different perspective on it. Feel free to leave comments, questions, suggestions!