Chapter 68

"Dad, I love when we have our special moments, but uh, fishing? Really?" Stiles asked, scratching his head.

"Yup. Fishing. And, no, you're not getting out of it," sheriff Stilinski grunted as he put the tackle box in the back of the jeep. "Why don't you help me load up the equipment?"

"I'm helping," Stiles said. His mouth gaped a moment as he struggled to figure out how. "I'm managing. That's what I'm doing. I'm making sure we have everything."

"Of course," his dad said flatly. He grunted the cooler into the trunk.

Stiles shrugged, offering his sarcastic yet sympathetic look.

"I'll go grab food," Stiles said.

He hurried back into the house and grabbed his bookbag and dumped its contents-textbooks and assignments from the entire year. They spewed all over the floor and couch. Though the thought to pick them up did cross his mind, it was only for a second. Grabbing Cheetos and some Chinese leftovers seemed much more pressing and better.

With the car all packed up, he drove them out to the lake. They sat out at the end of a long dock. The water licked the soles of their shoes as walked, making the water lap over the platform. Set up on chairs, the men sat down and looked out at the grey waters. The sky was blindingly blue. Stiles watched as the trees swung in the sky freely. The rustling leaves from the wind were a welcome sound. It had been a long time since he'd taken the time to hear something like that.

"I wanted to talk to you about something," his dad said suddenly.

Stiles smirked. Of course he did. That's what fishing trips were for. It was guy time and serious talk.

"I know," Stiles said. "Bringing me all the way out here, I knew there was a catch."

"I just want to take a moment to breathe. I'm worried about you."

He was stringing up one of the fishing poles. The hook kept getting stuck and was winding around the pole. Stiles snickered when he ended up getting stuck in the thumb and cursed.

"Don't worry," Stiles said.

"I do. You're my son, and you're doing things that are messing your head up. I've seen it, and it's great that you're going out and trying to protect the town, but you're only human."

"I'm fine," Stiles insisted. He took the fishing pole and reeled the line in until the pokeball looking bobber stopped.

"You're chasing cold cases that are attached to god knows what kind of bad. You're barely sleeping. When you do sleep, you wake up screaming from nightmares. I don't know what you're finding out there, but it's dangerous and it's costing you your sanity," the sheriff said in a worried, shaky voice. "I don't know how to help you."

"You don't need to help me, dad. Really. Somebody has to solve these cases."

"And that has to be you? Why not have Scott or Derek do it. You-"

"Aren't like them? I know. The reminder is laid on pretty thickly every day. They don't want anything to do with it."

"Are you looking for the alpha pack?"

Stiles sighed. It wasn't stress filled. He'd given his new occupation a lot of thought, especially where is his life was concerned. With some cases there wasn't anything supernatural at all going on. It was just an accident or something serious. He handed it off to his dad when it was something like that and received the uncomfortable glance. With most of the cases though, he was finding out that nothing was what it seemed and this town was seriously populated with supernatural beings. All of the knowledge unnerved him.

"I'm okay," Stiles said. "I promise."

He sniffled a tickle out of his nose. Then, pulling the tip of the fishing pole back, he flung it forward and watched the line zip out into the water.

"It's just hard."

"I'm glad that you aren't doing this alone. I know that you're 'an adult' but still."

"Me too," Stile said.

The bobber floated out a ways on the water. Sitting back, Stiles grabbed one of the cokes out of the cooler and popped the tab.

The bell above the front door of the animal clinic sang. Deaton looked up from the chart of a Doberman that had come in for a check-up. A kidney stone was giving the animal some pain. He scrawled across the bottom of the chart for an appointment on Wednesday and then again on the large calendar underneath it.

"Cora," Deaton said, his eyebrows rising, pleasantly surprised to see the fem wolf.

"Hey," she said nonchalantly. "Is Scott here? I need to talk to him."

"Yes. He's in the back. Exam 2," Deaton replied.

He opened up the counter so she could pass through.

"It's good to see you," he said happily.

Cora gave a dull wave in response. Deaton gave a small chuckle. At least you haven't lost your charm, he thought to himself. He'd seen a lot of Cora and Stiles over the last year. Whether they needed medical care they couldn't explain at the ER or help with trying to solve a case, he learned to associate the chime of the doorbell with their presence, especially after hours. Their company was always interesting.

"Scott," Cora said. Her face relaxed with relief and contentment at seeing him. She promised Stiles she wouldn't cause any trouble with him and she didn't.

Scott was looking through the cabinet. His face was pinched together in deep concentration. "I am so glad to see you. We need to talk."

Scott kept on with whatever it was he was doing, remaining unfazed. Cora wasn't sure what he was doing, but after a few minutes of no reply she figured that he was just ignoring her completely.

"Scott," she said desperately. "I'm worried about everyone…and you know I usually don't care. But, the alpha pack-"

Scott spun around and grabbed her by the throat right then. Her heart jolted painfully in her chest. His eyes glowed inhumanly red with disgust and anger. Not even Derek got like this. This was pure animal and he looked ready to tear her apart. Her nails elongated sharply.

He shoved her against the counter. The edge dug into her lower back. She'd never seen this look from Scott before. Such ferocity was unlike him. The alpha was getting to him.

"I don't know how to make this clear. You obviously haven't gotten the hint over the last year. You aren't in my pack. You aren't even my friend. In fact, I can't stand that you are corrupting my best friend."

His thumb pressed against her windpipe. Her breaths grew ragged. She grabbed his wrist and tried to pull it away. He'd never acted like this before. She didn't know he hated them so much.

"Scott," she choked out, coughing. "I'm just trying to help. They're back."

"The last time I trusted you, you got one of my friends killed and nearly got my mom killed. I don't want your help."

He let go and shoved her.

Is that what he thought, she wondered. That it was their fault? Blaming her and Derek allowed him to move on?

"Stay away, Cora. I can handle my pack," Scott said with a gravelly voice. He let her go.

His red eyes sent her heart racing in a panic storm. She hurried from the room, nearly knocking Deaton over.

"Cora?"

Deaton turned around, but he didn't venture back to the exam room. He hoped that the discrepancy would resolve itself and soon. The alpha pack wasn't on the attack yet, but the pieces were setting up for checkmate. Marin made random calls. At the moment she was in the wind.

The hectic activity in town put her danger. There were quite a few people who would love to see her dead. The lengths they'd go to achieve the feat were incredulous. The alpha pack had something to do with it that's for sure.

"Are you sure you want to come?" Allison asked.

She craned her neck as she watched Lydia over pack her suitcase. The red head didn't miss a beat. She sped around as if they were in a hurry. They weren't.

"Of course I'm sure," Lydia replied.

She bit the corner of her mouth as she chose between her brown riding boots and her black velvet booties. She went with the riding boots. The heel wasn't as high. They'd be easy to run in if running was necessary.

Lydia didn't ask a lot of questions about what was in Mexico. She just asked to go. That same old nauseas feeling came back the instant she came home. At the end of the first semester, she declared that she wasn't going to do this anymore. She wasn't going to call out other people's deaths and get called insane. She had a life before all of that and it was a hell of a good life.

"Lydia, this isn't exactly a vacation." Allison said. Her head tilted to the side and her eyes squinted. "Well, it is, but it isn't. My Dad is-"

"Allison." Lydia said. Her tongue sharp and on point. "I don't care. I'm going to sit on a sandy beach and have an incredibly strong, bronzed man bring me a tequila sunrise as I soak up the sun. You can go chase monsters all you want."

"Ummm," A smile flickered across Allison's face. "Lydia, you've been acting like This isn't happening. Everyone is."

She mumbled the last part. Stiles was about the only one who wasn't.

"And you're acting like you want to deal with this." Lydia said.

"That's why I'm going to meet my dad." Allison said defensively. "This isn't vacation. It's-"

"Surviving?" Lydia finished for her snottily. "I am so sick of surviving. Surviving has only caused me to lose a boyfriend, my reputation and my friends. I quit."

Allison new instantly who she meant. It wasn't Aiden. It was Jackson. He left for London after taking the bite. Allison had no clue that it still stung for her. First loves, they left wounds that never healed. Some were gaping holes. Others were nothing but pleasant memories to cling to in the dark. Lydia, though she was utterly in love with Aiden, there was always that spot in her heart where Jackson would remain.

Allison's eyes softened.

"I don't think it works like that," Allison mumbled.

"I don't care." Lydia's eyes narrowed suddenly. "Does Scott even know the real reason you're going to Mexico?"

The guilt-blank stare from Allison answered her question. She finished packing.

After Lydia finished struggling with the zipper of her bag, she walked past Allison and out to the car with the luggage case dragging behind her like a dead body.

They were leaving tomorrow. Ms. Martin didn't argue for Lydia to stay but it was obvious that she thought this decision to go on a road trip was rash. The whole I'm-an-adult thing. More than anything, Allison wished she wasn't doing the whole adult thing-if that's what this was. It sucked and she was too young for it.

Cora burst into the empty loft. Her chest rose and fell with deep breaths filled with panic. She rubbed her throat self-consciously again. There weren't any marks, but she could still feel Scott's claws digging into her skin. It made her shiver.

"You look shaken, niece."

Cora spun around. Peter stood by the door. He gave a sweet smile. A growl rumbled at the back of Cora's throat. Nothing about him was different except for his attitude. The snarky killer was absent.

"Now now," he said, "I'm just here to make sure you're okay."

"What are you talking about?"

"You just came from seeing Scott, right?"

She nodded warily. How did he know? Even more, when did he come back to town? More questions. She could feel a headache above her temple.

"Don't look at me like that. I DO care about my family," Peter said.

Cora snorted.

"Get out," she snapped.

Peter raised his hands in surrender and opened the door. He paused.

"I am sorry that they are turning against you," he said. "It's a pity."

Cora stared at him skeptically. Was he serious? He slid the door closed with ease.

Allison shook her head as Lydia shoved her third suitcase into the trunk.

"Do you need so much?" she chuckled.

"You know I do," Lydia replied.

"And if you go shopping?" Allison said.

Lydia stopped. Her lips pursed together with deep thought. She took out her suitcase. Allison didn't know which one it was. There was one with her clothes and an assortment of shoes. Another with her haircare products and make-up. And another with anything else she needed. She decided she didn't need just one bag and packed more.

The sun caressed the trees and the sky was the most beautiful shade of rose pink and lavender. Allison inhaled deeply, tilting her head back. The air wasn't thick and balmy as it usually was at the beginning of summer. It was cool.

"Okay!" Lydia said aloud a couple minutes later. Allison smiled at the sound of finality in her voice. They could get on the road finally.

"My dad said that he'll meet us the when we near the border," Allison told her.

"Be safe girls!" Ms. Martin called out the door.

Lydia waved and got in on the passenger's side. She didn't bother with goodbye. IT was the same way when they left for college last year.

The drive was quiet for the most part. Music played quietly from the stereo. There were barely any cars on the road. Their headlights made the asphalt glow.

The trees were blue as the sky darkened. Lydia looked up, out the window, at the skies. A few stars peaked out.

"I'm so glad I won't be stuck here," she mumbled.

Allison glanced over at her and smiled in agreement.

"Look out!" Lydia screamed.

Allison's nerves shot and she stomped on the brakes at seeing a large greyish mass in the middle of the road. They squealed like an angry child. That thing hadn't been there a second before. She jerked the wheel, trying to weave around it, but it was too late.

"Allison!" Lydia screamed.

The car flipped and rolled twice. It stopped with the ceiling on the road. Lydia's breaths shook as she looked around. She touched her forehead. It throbbed painfully from it slamming against the window amid the rollover. Her hair was sticky and wet with blood.

"Allison?" she mumbled.

Allison was already fumbling with her seatbelt, trying to undo it. Dropping to the glass covered ground, she scrambled between the seats to the back where her bow and other equipment were.

"Allison!" she called.

Allison was back instantly and had her ring daggers in her cut up hands.

"Get out and carefully," she said in a low voice. "Then call my dad and Scott."

"What are you going to do?"

"Make sure that thing isn't still out here," Allison replied.

She crouched down and looked out the spiderwebbed window.