.
Track 01 - Staring At the Sun by TV on the Radio
.
{Thursday: Late night – Tony's 24 Diner, The Styx}
The coffee pot had finished as Kate finished the account of her history with the Hale Family, with Derek specifically and she casually waved over the waitress.
Isaac leaned forward onto his elbows as his face colored in frustration, Stiles stared at her, boggle eyed with his hands were curled into fists. Their shared instinct to run turned to more of a shared impulse to break things. Hearing about their pack in the past tense, in the context of a stranger that had such influence and spoke with such flippancy, yes, it was her story but had become their up-bringing.
"Why did they bring you here?" asked Stiles in a tone just short of a demand. "If you're supposed to be some sort of expert, what are you an expert of?"
"Stiles," Scott said carefully, "I think you know why."
Stiles turned slowly toward Scott and both Lydia and Scott looked at him with different expressions of concern.
"I don't think you want her to say it," Lydia's face warned with a brow creased.
After a pause Stiles groaned and shook the mental pictures out of his head, "I mean, what are you supposed to do now that you're here?"
The waitress came over, this time around she hovered and asked if anyone wanted water or if they wanted to put in an order. When she seemed confident her job was performed to the fullest, she left a new pot and excused herself once more. Afterward Allison blew out air as if she had been holding her lungs full from deep sea diving. She looked toward her Aunt Kate with a mixture of admiration and utter annoyance. Kate could always keep a room in attention and was a boss at interrogation, but the tension was likely to give her an ulcer if the excessive coffee didn't. So, she served herself another cup.
"May I ask a question," Kate eyed Isaac while she refilled her own cup. She had picked him off as the weakest link early on and her phrase was hardly a question from her tone of voice, "since I've been nice enough to answer so many of yours? Why were your friends at the Hale Estate tonight?"
It told her the position of power the range of glances that sped around the table; in a matter of milliseconds, she saw a few eyes roll from Stiles and then to pointed expectantly towards Scott despite his blank look.
"It was a dare," Lydia explained and when she spoke her exasperation read honestly. "Everyone growing up in Beacon Hill's grew up afraid of the Haunted Hale's Home. We were just killing time afterschool playing Truth or Dare. So, Stiles dared me. Guess I should have picked Truth."
"Yeah," Scott piped up quickly, "our games can get out of hand sometimes. Stiles normally wins but I guess this time technically you do," Scott gave her a gentle half hug; partly in thanks and partly to embolden Lydia with confidence.
"No way," Stiles added, "I dared her to go into the Hale's House. Not to burn it down." The glares directed toward him could be easily interpreted as genuine. From Scott's straight surprise around to Isaac's face read disbelief to annoyance, "What? My record stands is all I'm saying."
Kate calculated the familiarity with each of their predicaments, how each were raised to their unaligned state, but she hadn't identified what Lydia was. Aside from dominant.
As expected, if they were leery about Kate knowing their pack's details than Lydia certainly didn't want Kate to know about her, about being a Banshee. Not before she knew what being a Banshee meant. If a little bit of privacy meant she could be a better asset, then she would hold onto it for as long as she could. They were hemorrhaging secrets as it was.
"But the Hale Estate at this time of night?" Kate seemed unconvinced.
"Why not?" Scott pointed out in a tone soft, subdued "we used to always sneak behind our parents' backs and do this sort of thing all the time. It's not like we planned for a blackout. We didn't plan for the house to burn or, you know anything."
"Anything?"
Suddenly Scott remembered he really wanted coffee badly. He wanted it despite there not being a lick of sugar in it and it being black as sin, he took a deep sip to think clearly and realized he had said as much as he wanted to say. No one had mentioned Lydia's abilities. Aside from the explosion they hadn't mentioned the markings on the door, the ring of powder locking them off the property. If those facts hadn't come up, and he certainly wasn't going to bring up the dead body.
"You," Scott gulped down his mouthful of tar, "we hadn't planned on meeting you."
After a thoughtful pause Kate laughed. "You are a charmer!" she leaned over, "I could just eat you up," she pinched Scott's cheek and slid back into her chair. Lydia pressed herself into the bench to keep from getting crushed.
"Please don't," Scott chuckled nervously and touched his cheek where her hand had been.
Lydia groaned and readjusted herself loudly. Diagonally across the table she caught Isaac's eye, he shrugged in shared sentiment, and they were lost in a rectangle full of tension absorbing sponges with no saturation point, with no foreseeable escape and no point. Isaac made a glance toward the rear exit as the busboy dragged out garbage bags and raised a brow cheekily. She smirked at the suggestion to escape and remembered why she kept him around.
However unlikely it was Allison that was the first to bring the topic to ground; she was thoughtful and soft-spoken but in no way subtle. "But how was Derek able to sire Werewolves if he wasn't an Alpha?"
Isaac's expression darkened. He wished he had followed his impulse and done a runner 60 seconds earlier.
Kate sighed heavily, her smirk disappeared, and she looked older when she turned thoughtful. Not to be confused with looking old. Only that conniving took its toll.
"To answer your earlier question, Stiles, that is what I came to find out," she leaned forward and eyed the boys intently.
"You're here to investigate the treaty," Allison realized late.
"Stiles wasn't born a Werewolf," Lydia stared over at Stiles while she thought about it aloud, "so Derek broke his treaty." She whipped around to look at Kate, their nearness wasn't as intimidating suddenly, not when it placed her in the way of her friend's being harmed, "what does that mean for what's left of the Hale pack?"
"Traditionally, we would end the pack," said Kate, her eyes were humorless and dark, her term was delicately menacing. "Obviously, you boys are lucky I'm not a traditionalist," she winked at Isaac in an attempt to break the tension. Whatever rapport they had, whatever agreement they arranged had become strained. "Listen, it's all circumstantial."
"It's wrong!" Scott sat forward. Like Lydia, he had subconsciously put his body between Kate and Stiles'. "It's just wrong. You can't just make Stiles and Isaac pay for what Derek did-"
"Derek didn't do anything," Isaac didn't yell but his voice was heated enough it brought the attention of a few diner patrons.
"-you think," Stiles started in a barely controlled low. He twisted around in surprise to find Stiles leaned towards him, "because someone else stuck by me while I grew up who wasn't you, he had to be the bad guy?"
"-I didn't- I just," stammering Scott shook his head and couldn't find his words.
Stiles sensed Scott's confusion compounded into fear, painted over with warmth that only his best-friend could mix up. Who else but Scott could make a hug of a panic attack? For one more moment Stiles needed to trust in that feeling.
"I was dying, Scott," Stiles admitted.
.
Track 02 - Hysterical Strength by St. Vincent
.
The room swayed a little as if she were underwater, so with both hands she gripped the vinyl of the booth's seat. Lydia had practiced the thought of Stiles' death, but it never suited her. Hearing his voice enunciate the words felt like physical illness. She bit her lip to keep her sickness in check, her face hardened as she armed herself.
However, to Scott he felt nothing, his hands dropped beside him onto the bench. Thoughts of death flashed through his mind, like from television show or the photos Allison showed him, or the corpse in the ground; they were all disconnected things from him, and he could process those. Stiles was his Brother, snatched from the jaws of death once but the thought of losing him he could not process. Something in him went numb, instead his expression opened entirely, large brown eyes turned tender, and brows knit in focus and dismay.
Stiles' heart broke to watch them. He considered how much it drove him nuts when he thought of Scott abandoned and going through his first transitions of the full moon after the bite with no one to help him understand. He kept clear in mind, for all his good intentions, the look of hurt on Lydia's face when he sent her away from the Sheriff's Station because he wasn't certain he could keep his lies straight. Heartache was the business of being a best-friend and for him the table was empty except for them 3.
"After our car went over the edge at Cliffside," continued Stiles, his eyes danced intently between them. He willed for them not to panic, "I thought it was a piece of window but metal from the door my side. It got caught in a rib. Would it have killed me, I don't know. I just know, if I tried to get loose, the car shook."
Lydia's breath quickened, she sucked her lower lip in and gnawed on it as if to slow her intake. She remembered the car creaking and trembling with every breath, she'd always assumed the breathing was hers.
"-and when that thought hit me, and I tried not to laugh-" Stiles chuckled nervously and wiped at his face, he stared full-face at Scott. "I know you saw it in my face too. You saw me try not to laugh." They shared a grin of acknowledgement. "I thought 'how pissed off would they be if they pull me halfway out of this car and I faint on them.' I mean there was this gross blood, I thought I pissed myself. I didn't want Lydia to think I pissed myself." The mirth drained from Stiles' face.
Scott gave a nod that he understood what he could barely recall, what his 10 year-old self could piece together from being there physically but his now mind could hardly know. Also, because he had memorized Stiles' face then and could sometime glean his mind now. But he strained to understand the rest.
"Then I'm thinking, 'Right, my Mom's also dead,'" Stiles choked a little on the phrase, but he speared on. His conviction sped up his speech. "I'm a dumb-ass because I mean Mom's dead right there and all I can think about is, 'you don't want your Bro to think you're a wussy who faints at the sight of blood and you don't- you don't want Her to think you pissed yourself'. It became easier to be a dumb-ass and fall, right?"
Drawn in with each breath, Lydia leaned closer toward Scott's side. On the bench between them, in the gap of crushing vinyl cushions their hands clasped in the shadow.
"Which is an easy thing to think until you're actually at the bottom of this, whatever when your head is ringing so loud, and you want to vomit. Again, I mean vomit again. And I'm wondering if my best-friends made it and even more worried about how to get away from the fact that there is now blood in with the vomit, 2 of the worse things in the world. Plus, dead Mom. So, 3 worse things. Then this big, BIG god damn wolf is there, the one my Mom swerved around. So that's 4 worse things. And then there's Derek. So, I think that's 5 worse things because here's this stranger with red eyes, growling really loud scaring off the wolf."
Stiles paused to take a breath as though he'd forgotten to breathe. Then another to see if his friends had bolted from shock or outrage or something closer to rejection instead there were just the same 2 friends there, sitting patiently that had been waiting for him for so long.
"Then I don't remember much," he sighed and slumped forward onto his elbows on the table. "But there was a whole lot of highway because we were-"
"We were so far away, on our way to my Dad's," her voice sounded wistful and sorrowful.
"Right, his Lake House," Stiles tilted his head see her full on and Lydia smiled softly for Stiles to continue. The smirk of his 'grown-up' Stiles' face reminded her of the now-ness, and she felt less lost in history and more grounded. "It's all the way up in the boonies. I kept blacking out and at one point we were in a train car, I think. Never mind that doesn't matter."
.
"When things calmed down, it took a while for me to understand what Derek meant when he told me that I was dying. Because dying sucks and I had been doing it for what seemed like a lifetime. But what he meant was that I was 'about to be dead'," Stiles hand no longer shook when he placed it on the table. He pressed it flat on the wood for emphasis. Dead, flatline, the intensity in his dark amber eyes reminded as much.
"Dead was my Mom," he breathed deeply and let himself go to a dark place, "her head cracked quietly against the roof of the car and neck left at that angle that. 'Dead' was her body dangling upside down, with her arms just hanging, swaying limp and crooked. You know, you saw it shouldn't have been like that."
"Yeah, I know," Scott sniffed. He wiped at his cheek.
"Now, that was dead. Because that was unfathomable, even if I had gotten one last look at her before he pulled me out. That whole ride North she hummed to the radio and watched us through the rearview. Even though I couldn't see her I knew she had a smile on her face. I feel like at least once, while I was left in the wreck, I should have tried to look. If I had seen her face, it would have been- If she wouldn't have been smiling then that was dead and that scared the crap out of me. I would rather be a wussy that pissed himself than that. I begged him not to let me die. Then I saw his eyes turn red again and I wasn't afraid anything after that."
The world came back into focus. The din of patrons started again with their food orders and dietary needs.
"There!" Stiles laughed with a false lightness and eased back into the bench. He flicked the not-so empty mug in front of him hard enough for a chink to resound. "Derek didn't break your treaty. Not with me. Not with Isaac. Not with any of us."
.
Track 03 - Running With Wolves by Cloud Cult
.
"How many are there with you?" careful to make her tone casual Kate asked Stiles directly, only Isaac responded first.
"Why?" he shifted closer to Allison so as to lean toward Kate. "So, you can hunt us all?"
"She needs to ask, Isaac," despite her title as Hunter, Allison was no stranger to playing the part of peacekeeper. She put her hands on Isaac's shoulder and pushed him gently back.
"We had a deal," Kate reminded. "If you don't tell. I have other ways of finding out."
In that respect, even knowing her Aunt was in the right, Allison wished she had found a less challenging way of phrasing it. The look Isaac gave her was a silent plea to take his side while she kept a physical barrier to their exchange.
"Venues I don't think any of us want to go down," Kate's passive aggression lent nothing to the calm. "So, I'm going to ask again, nicely, how many are in your pack?"
Allison's expression fell and she shook her head to confirm Kate's promise. Not that she knew it before tonight, but the Argent Hunters were investigating the Hale Pack, and that was a fact; Isaac had only a moment to decide whether they wanted to contribute or be dissected.
"Not as much as there was before," sighed Isaac as he settled back in his seat. Kate did not have a clear view of Allison's features and Allison couldn't have been more grateful. She wanted her Aunt to think of her as some firm investigator as opposed to the secret collaborator.
"That's not an answer," Kate snapped.
"I don't know the answer," Isaac took a cue from Allison and kept his cool, his shoulders back, his chin high and his tone leveled. He gave no sign that it made his stomach mush to talk about these things aloud, when he shrugged and said, "the truth I thought I was alone until I found Stiles, and I'd thought he was a goner."
"Thanks for your faith their buddy," scoffed Stiles.
"Ever since weeks ago when someone grabbed Derek, we've been on the move. First, we tried to track down where was Derek but then someone started to take us out. First Cora, then Erica and then Boyd."
"When you say, 'take us out,' do you mean they're being killed off, too?" asked Kate.
.
Track 04 - Scene of The Crime by Placebo
.
"How can you just do that?" Lydia commented in a low voice, she had a talent of keeping her bitterness on a tipping point. She had begun to understand the depths of her friends' mistrust with Kate Argent. She looked from Stiles' downcast expression over to Isaac in disappointment, "you just trade private details like that?"
After such an outpouring it didn't seem fair to look to Stiles to be a mouthpiece but despite his many talents Isaac wasn't used to being a man of words.
"We're not sure if they killed anyone," Stiles continued despite Lydia's displeasure, with Scott's hand reaching behind Lydia's back towards his shoulder once more. "Someone abducted Derek on the road after they hijacked him while he'd been investigating, but they took him alive," Stiles continued after a contemplative pause, he added, "we know because they left Cora behind as a witness."
"It was just the 2 of them were investigating?" Kate sounded disbelieving. "The whole pack doesn't move together?"
"They don't exactly subscribe to the buddy system," answered Stiles, "Cora and Derek Hale answer to their own brooding call. Not that I'm judging natural born Werewolves, I am however judging Hales." He added light-heartedly to which both Kate and Isaac scoffed leaving the rest excluded from the sentiment. "Whenever something comes up that's Hale business then it isn't exactly the whole pack's business. Like when they hear from someone," he paused to glare at Kate, "a member that's not Kansas City style BBQ'd they get cagey and take off. I wonder why that is?"
"Wouldn't it make more sense to move in numbers to protect an Omega if one contacted Derek to be brought in?" Allison asked, having become practiced at moving beyond Stiles' barbed comments but not Scott's most innocent and vacant stare.
"Strays," Isaac clarified impatiently, "she means a stray Werewolf, someone without a pack. And there's no way of knowing since we've never had a hint of the Hale history. Aside from Kate's story here we've never heard anything about Derek's past. Or a connection to Beacon Hills except for them saying 'Do Not Come Here'." Isaac referred to the elusive Derek and made a gesture toward Stiles.
"You told him not to come here?" Scott whipped around to face Stiles.
Stiles blinked owlishly and gulped as though he might have choked on air. "I didn't TELL him," he over enunciated in a guilty consciousness then added in the smallness of conviction, "I just may have agreed."
"Why would you agree to that?" Lydia reacted with rawness in her voice.
"Because what Derek always taught us is right," Stiles defended, although the more he spoke the worse he felt, "Family is weakness."
Scott and Lydia were startled into quiet for a moment and then burst into simultaneous bickering.
Finally, Kate placed her mug firmly on the table with enough force it made people several booths over settle down. "Children. Can we get on topic?"
"No," Lydia shuffled sidelong pushing Scott aside to get out of the booth. "Screw you. Screw your topics," she snapped the words directly in Kate's face while she struggled to her feet. She turned toward the table and tried to picture frame the people therein, how particularly important they were to her and how just over an hour ago she might have given her life for more than a few of them. "Bunch of monsters, just- you're all just a bunch of monsters. I've had enough." Her hands trembled furiously as she grabbed around in her pockets in search of her cell.
The act itself of calling a Werewolf a 'monster' isn't textbook bigotry because there isn't a textbook to speak of, but it had an impact in the place where they question their humanity with each decision they ever made. Isaac and Stiles sat contrite thinking of how they had compromised bits and pieces of their families to get where they were, which effectively was nowhere good at all. On hearing the panicked tremor of her heart, Scott reached to steady her hand only she stepped or rather stumbled from his reach.
"Don't," her voice rose. "I'm going to the hospital to be with Jackson, who, from what I've heard, is the only one tonight not acting like an animal."
Not wholly unfamiliar the earth virtually shook when Lydia exited leaving everyone equally chastised in her wake. But Allison, she would never abandon her best-friend to despair so without asking to be excused, she left the table of intimidated hyper-sensitive Werewolf boys with her power-hungry Hunter of an Aunt. Nothing could possibly go wrong.
.
Track 05 - Fangs by Little Red Lung
.
{Outside – Tony's 24 Diner, Parking Lot}
Truck drivers nearly twice her size stood back at the sound of the doors smacking open with the force of her fury. Lydia marched out of the 24-Hours Diner off the curb through puddles ignoring her outfit and her ruined look. A moment before she could fling her useless iPhone into the dark of the parking lot Allison offered hers up as a working substitute.
"Thanks," Lydia muttered when she recovered the connection between thought and words. She couldn't get through to her Mom, instead she left a message insisting she call back A.S.A.P.
"It's just water damage," Allison looked over the non-working cell phone "it should clear up in a little bit on its own." She handed it back to Lydia, who thanked her but proceeded to sulk.
"Just don't flag down a ride with a trucker just yet. Not that I don't doubt you couldn't get the keys of the biggest burliest guy here," Allison smiled staring up at the sky, ensuring not to make eye-contact and enrage the beast. "It's just with the traffic in town right now you're probably not going to get far."
Lydia didn't laugh but she did smile mildly at Allison's obvious and floundering attempt at flattery. The cell rang and Lydia practically ate it because she had it at her mouth so fast.
"Mom, I need you. Come get me at the 24-Hours Diner off the 101. Please, right away. Please," Lydia didn't whine but her tone had a timbre to it that was rare and vulnerable- then she stepped off the curb and began to whisper so that Allison couldn't overhear. Her body-language cut her off when Allison knew what Lydia needed most was to be assured things could still be held together. She wished Lydia would let her go over and hug her if anything, but she sensed she was still to upset for that.
"Alright. Alright. Okay, I love you," the call disconnected but Lydia still held the phone to the side of her face. After a deep breath she straightened her stance and returned the phone.
"I'm sorry," Allison consoled.
"Sorry?" Lydia's brow furrowed. "My Mom is already on her way."
"But the roads," Allison had misinterpreted her friend's disappointment.
"Don't ever underestimate the determination of a Martin woman," answered Lydia with a cheeky tilt to her head. "My Mom should be 5 minutes, she's coming down through Fairvale," Lydia looked smug, mostly tired so a bit of falseness chipped away. Allison watched on with eyes of soft concern as Lydia explained. "I don't know why she's up there- Now she's keeping secrets too. There is already too much weird. I don't want to have to deal with this, whatever it is."
"That's alright," she replied delicately and ran a hand along Lydia's arm to assure her. "I think I can help a little." She offered an easier solution; she walked over to the all-terrain bike and brought back an attachment siren light. "Just smack it on the roof of your Mom's car and you should have no problems getting to the hospital and getting some answers on how Jackson is."
When Lydia thanked her, she tried not to grin but the idea of people making a pathway for her was something of a dream come true.
"I'm probably going to run into Scott's Mom or Stiles' Dad at the hospital. If I do, I'll tell them they're fine. Still stuck out with the rest of the study group," she shoved hair from her eyes, clutched her ruined coat closed and pretended keeping appearances was the bigger priority. "But I'm not going back in and waiting with the rest of them."
"No, of course not," she hoped her face conveyed with one smile enough to say 'sorry, blowing up wasn't enough to show your Bros exactly how much you care.'
"I can't. I don't belong in there," her voice hardened.
"I get it," she nodded.
"But you do?" for a moment Lydia looked frightened, not confused but frightened. At every opportunity Lydia had, she warned them 'things were going to get worse' but would they listen?
"I guess I do."
.
Track 06 - Run Boy Run by Woodkid
.
{Inside – Tony's 24 Diner, Booth at the End}
When Allison retook her seat, she quietly listened as her Aunt received a call on the SAT phone. Kate made her voice sound as casual as possible as she reassured her brother Chris, they were finishing rounds, inspecting the fire at the Hale property. When Chris offered to send more help, Kate dissuaded him saying the fire had smothered itself out, she and Allison would be on their way back after grabbing some diner food. She lied easily enough that her heart hardly wavered.
Turning to the guys, Allison cut through the casual discomfort, "Lydia is waiting outside for her Mom to drive her to the hospital."
"What about the roads?" Isaac worried.
"You must not know Lydia's Mom," Allison smirked to which Scott and Stiles gave a nod in agreement. She glanced at them and mentioned, "She said if she saw your parents, she would tell them you went to her study session and got stuck out here."
"Wow," Scott said softly.
"She's still saving our collective asses" Stiles observed.
"She's always been better at thinking on her feet," added Scott.
"She's always been better at thinking," Stiles added mumbling through the hand he rubbed over his mouth, choking on humility.
"She seemed pretty mad," Scott practically said to himself. "We should go around later."
"-should we though...?" Stiles sucked in a pained breath in fear of her wrath.
"She said 'don't'." Allison said in a tone that nearly imitated Lydia's.
"She'll still be at the hospital when you make up your minds," reminded Kate. "What?" She responded to the confused expressions looking toward her, "I've known that look on a girl's face before. That's a girl ready to stand by a bad boy for a good cause. Isaac?"
"What?" Isaac looked around as if he had been accused. "So, I wasn't 'bad boy' enough for her?"
Everyone stared for varying of reasons; Kate and Allison waited for Isaac's story to conclude. Stiles and Scott wanted to know what Isaac thought of himself to compare in Jackson to Lydia.
"God, I hate teens," Kate groaned into her hand as she rubbed sleep from her face. She used the other hand to wave for the waitress to come over and refill the pot of coffee. "You're nearly out of time Isaac and you owe me your story."
"What?" Isaac snapped. Hadn't they had enough confession time with Stiles' story and Kate's? "Did you want my sob story too? Something epic? Graphic? My family fell apart after my Brother was killed in Afghanistan. My Mom got sick right after. My Dad beat me and stuck me in a freezer and sometimes he would get drunk enough he forgot I was in there, so when Derek offered a way out and I took it. It's your everyday sorry tale and we each had a version; Boyd's little Sister died in front of him because she fell through ice pond he broke when he was 6. His family never forgave him. Erica's Idiopathic Epilepsy almost killed her when she had an episode while rock climbing. Derek has watched out for each of us. He gave each of us a choice. He's not the easiest guy to live with. He's hardheaded and his rules are strict but it's obvious now they were made to keep us alive. And we did. We survived and we got stronger. We were better together. Now, now it's like I'm lost..." Isaac continued until he lost his breath and words and when he looked to Stiles for a rescue, he only saw red-faced dismay.
Maybe it hadn't been intended and Isaac suffered yet another episode of word vomit, but Stiles could do something with it. He could use it as deflection; plain and simple. Erica and Boyd were lost to them forever but at least their legend could help protect what was left of their pack, what was left of their family.
"This time when he left, when our Alpha left, afterward we could sense his panic," Stiles paused for emphasis to remind that panic was a step above fear. "It felt like a piece of my cerebellum had gotten ripped out and just thinking hurt. I mean, I never had it easy keeping my thoughts straight but after the change I didn't need Adderall anymore."
"Just like how after the change, Erica didn't need Carbatrol anymore..." Isaac added.
"It's not like I felt a relapse," Stiles shook his head as if he could shake off the confusion of his recollections, "but it's like we fell apart without him. Something in us suddenly ripped apart."
"Cora felt it the worst," Isaac sat up straighter, his words carried with them the weight of recollection. "When they came to find their Omega, Derek and Cora were targeted. But they left her behind like a piece of- Cora blamed herself for not being strong enough."
"But she was smart enough to come and get us instead of tracking them alone," Stiles said with a bit of pride in his voice. "Anyway, I already knew the way."
A tapping sound interrupted their calm and they looked to Isaac to steady his leg. No one pressed for him to continue but Allison gave him a look, she breathed out slow and kept eye contact. She breathed out again as if reminding him 'keep on.'
Isaac let out a breath and continued, "Erica noticed first while we were on the road, she sensed we were getting turned around. She said there were too many tracks. Then Cora got confused, or lost? I can't remember."
"Because 5 miles out, just 9 minutes from the town proper we were hijacked. Whatever got us, waited for us to be disoriented to toy with us. One at a time. We didn't stand a chance," Stiles reported precisely.
"I think It was just this crazy Monster," murmured Isaac.
"I don't," scoffed Stiles. "It wasn't crazy, that freakish deformed wolf had a goal. I think It wanted Cora from the beginning. It was huge and It was hunting. It took her as easy as that," and he snapped his fingers for emphasis.
"We got chased through the woods," Isaac turned slightly and recounted his woes to Scott's eager face, he felt at least in that direction it was more of an unburdening than a reporting, "that's when Erica got hurt. Hurt really really bad and she stopped healing."
"No, she was healing. Just too slow," Stiles clarified, "those were definitely Alpha wounds she came back with." Stiles decided to serve himself coffee as a means to calm down and as a means to stop from nervous laughing. "We were so closed to Northbridge, we tried to make it on foot but there were suddenly a dozen Werewolves in the woods." He took a long drought of black coffee with no sugar and without remembering to let it cool down. Scott winced and tried to peel the cup free from Stiles' grip, rescuing him from nothing more than an empty cup. Stiles licked his lips several times in an attempt to mend and collect his words, "Erica must have thought she held us back. She tackled an Alpha right off of a cliff. As someone pretty familiar with bouncing off of rock faces, there is no way she could have survived that. But her sacrifice gave us time to scatter."
"She hated heights," exhaled Isaac, "I can't believe I ran." He looked to the ceiling and slouched back in the bench tapping his foot again to keep the peace.
"We ran," Stiles voice brought Isaac's attention down like gravity. "We had to run. She wanted us to run. There were too many people in those woods."
"It was a mess," muttered Isaac.
"We lost sight of each other quickly," said Stiles.
"They took out Boyd," Isaac affirmed.
"I'm sorry I didn't see Boyd go down," Stiles tapped the table for Isaac's attention. At this point the story was more an A-B conversation, the rest of the table were simply bystanders. "I just kept aiming for Beacon Hills. In the dark, I didn't see which way you went but I knew where Derek would be. I needed to be near, nearer to the last place-"
"You said a wolf cut off your Mother's car," Kate broke in with an observation. "Then you said a wolf attacked Cora on the road. Do you think it's the same wolf?"
"Why would it be the same wolf?" he scoffed in incredulity.
Kate's SAT phone went off again, but she ignored it. Instead, she crossed her arms and shifted her leg and said with no amount patience in her voice "because there are no wolves in California. And I'm pretty sure you knew that boy genius. I wonder why you're telling yourself you don't."
Scott cleared his throat; while admittedly he hadn't spoken for a while it was also meant to keep Stiles from a witty come back. The whole time at the Diner everything said made Scott want to know more but nothing gave him satisfactory answers.
"Why is it important that there aren't wolves here?" Scott asked politely. Kate looked at him in amusement, charmed by his good-nature. "I was in the car with his Mom too. I want to know if there's a something connecting all of this."
"Now you're thinking like a Hunter," Kate grinned.
.
Track 07 - Missing by The xx
.
{Outside – Tony's 24 Diner, Parking Lot}
Natalie Martin's car barely turned into the parking lot of Tony's 24-Hour Diner when Lydia pulled open the passenger side door. Her Mom tried out the word hello, but it was strangled out by a hug.
"Mom! What are you doing up here?" she squeezed tightly and got her fill before she dropped back into her seat.
"I'm supposed to ask you that," Natalie scoffed lightly turning the car back onto the road, where they would inevitably have enough time to catch up while stuck in Beacon Hills record-breaking slow-moving traffic.
"Oh that," sniffed Lydia and glanced in the direction of the Diner, "just a study session gone awry. Now, tell me why were you in Fairvale? It's too early for another conference. Was this a secret rendezvous?"
Natalie chuckled and shook her head, "hardly." But she didn't seem inclined to answer.
Lydia smirked. "Mom, your sudden love-life is exactly the sort of distraction that I need tonight. Tell me this mystery man -"
"Stop. Oh, I insist you stop!" she groaned in responses to Lydia's persistence. Despite her obvious distress she managed to drive steadily. She looked at the face of her bright eyes and eager teen-aged daughter and deflected. "Look at you, you're a mess. Are you sure you're, okay? That all happened during a study session?"
"Mom-" Lydia knew of few topics they were reluctant to broach; money, politics, religion, and ex's "-you were with Dad?" The silence that answered her would not suffice. "Why? Why would he come around and tell you and not me?"
After the holiday break, Natalie toyed with an idea of confronting him, but recent events brought those concerns to the forefront. A secret meeting with the adversarial ex certainly exhibited some forward movement. As Lydia's episodes of fugue state were increasing, her Mom could do little by way of helping. Aside from 1) love her, 2) support her and 3) point blame somewhere far away. In the past, her Father always made a good target, and since he hadn't reported Lydia missing during their winter break at the Lake House, not to mention he had yet to visit since Lydia turned up safe, he made a damn fine target for her Natalie's rage.
Jeffrey Martin had always been a busy man with just a calculated interest in a personal life. Time hadn't changed that. What peace of mind was there to be achieved by officially divorcing your kid?
"Or did he just drop everything to fly over here at the idea of signing away his parental rights?"
"Lydia," Natalie started sternly then seemed to think better, "your new coat. I'm sure if we take it to the cleaners right away, they can do something to save it." Lydia's favorite coat, a Christmas present from her Dad, he sent it in his stead since he hadn't bothered to come visit.
"No thanks," Lydia shrugged, "I'll probably throw it away before it festers." She shook her head, she gripped the silk lining hard, she didn't have claws, but she wished she had. She wished she could have shredded the coat inside out. "It's ruined anyway," Lydia added scornfully.
"Suit yourself. But I'm not going to explain or justify my decision by you, honey. Because you are my baby and it's my job as the Mom to protect you, right?"
Yes, a baby at 17 whom soon would be 18, whether or not her negligent Dad signed the papers it wouldn't matter in less than 300 days. A baby that, less than an hour ago was confronted with life and death decisions, stood to make more whenever fate would deem fit, but God forbid if she knew if visitation was continuing.
"Mom, are you okay?" she mustered a smile, she felt confident running into each other on the edge of town was a thing of luck for many more reasons than a car ride.
Natalie sucked in a breath and let it out shakily, "better now." Natalie reached across the divide and touched her daughter's cheek, "we're going to be fine."
"Can we go to the hospital?" insisted Lydia when they neared their turn in the slow-moving traffic. Natalie looked a bit worried rather than put out. "I'm okay," Lydia clarified, "I just want to go there to see Jackson." If her Mom could secret away to see her ex for litigation than she could make room for Lydia's ex and his medication.
"It's only fair," Natalie conceded after the longest pause. "It's not like tonight can get any weirder."
A spark of relief hit Lydia and she flashed a grin before scrambling around in her seat, opening the passenger's side window, and attached a flashing emergency light to the top of their car. Looking to her Mom for approval, Lydia smiled brightly and without tension, snideness or snark. Her Mom opened her mouth, whether to argue or encourage but it was lost to their delight as traffic redirected around them. They laughed fueled with the power granted to them, the Martin women.
.
Track 08 - Half of You by Catpower
.
"This is not the most ideal place to have this conversation Stiles", Isaac pointed out.
"Nah, it really isn't" Stiles locked the bathroom door closed with the both of them inside, "but with a night of awkward confessionals this is probably the least awkward thing we have to work with."
When a knock came at the other side of the door to see if it was occupied, Stiles groaned and banged back harder and shouted, "Go away! We're busy!"
Isaac closed his eyes and counted to 3 in hopes that when he opened them again the tiny cubical of a room would magically deteriorate and reappear as a nice warm bedroom, with a preferably non-fluorescently lit bathroom adjacent with a bathtub and an endless supply of hot water.
"Hey," Stiles snapped him out of his fantasy, "we have problems. I mean you know, you and me, we're like-" Stiles followed up a groan of displeasure with a facial distortion that correctly encapsulated the depiction of their relationship.
"Of course," Isaac snorted, leaning back to slouch against the sink.
"But now we're the only ones left," Stiles seriousness seeped through, "and that's got to mean something. It means a lot of somethings actually."
"Alright, Stiles, like what?" scoffed Isaac, he hated to admit it, but he had actually missed Stiles' mad ramblings.
"It means after everything we've heard tonight our biggest problems are with who to trust. And how to trust them," Stiles sighed but his voice kept the hard seriousness of a man on a mission.
"Which is why we're meeting in the 'Men's' bathroom?" Isaac asked.
"As opposed to the Ladies' bathroom? Yes, I thought being that clandestine would draw a little too much attention. Isaac, come on, listen. 1) We cannot trust Kate because her narrative is manipulative. 2) We can't trust Scott, either, because his Alpha is still out there for all we know and has as much control over him as Derek's had on us, or as a master has on the Kanima. 3) We definitely can't trust Allison because she's been keeping secrets all along and 4) I definitely can't trust you because you've just traded half our family's life stories for a bag of magic beans. I mean, what other reason do you have for going to Kate Argent?"
"Oh, that." Isaac let out a breath.
"Oh," scoffed Stiles, "that." With a glare he turned around and swung the bathroom door open, "you should leave now." Isaac started to argue before he realized that he meant to argue to stay in the bathroom with Stiles. Whether Stiles actually meant to use the facility for its intended purpose or just wanted to make Isaac look stupid, either way it left Isaac very motivated to get gone.
.
As Kate went off to return the missed phone call, Allison and Scott took that as a sign to say their 'goodbyes/goodnights.'
"You're making a face... it's not exactly unhappy, maybe guilty?" Allison ventured a guess.
Scott sighed and wrapped his hands further around Allison's waist. "I couldn't help but hear her heart while we spoke. Allison the whole time, I mean the whole time it would have escalated because of upset or excitement but then there were moments it dropped, deliberately." Scott frowned and tried not to focus on the disappointment in Allison's eyes. "Those were moments she lied. She's trained herself to cover her lies."
Without meaning too Allison stepped back from the curb and fell a level away from him. She regretted it immediately, but Scott shook it off and withdrew his hold. He placed his hands on her shoulder instead, "I'm just saying, be careful."
"You're also telling me I shouldn't trust my Aunt?" Allison tried to keep any accusation from her voice, but she sounded like a 6-year-old even in her own ears. He ran his thumbs over her tensing shoulders and gave her the minutest smile instead of answering. It wasn't an apology because he wouldn't back down, it was condolences. "I won't pick sides," she whispered.
"I would never ask you to," he pressed his forehead to hers, "I just want you safe."
Allison closed her eyes and wished she had the ability to hear the sound of his heart, not to hear out lies and truth but because she wished for a sense of nearness when touching was not enough. She hesitated then rolled on the balls of her feet. "For as long as I've known you Scott," she admitted, "I've never had a reason to doubt you. But as long as I've known them, which I mean I've known my family whole life," that got a smile out of him, "I've been surrounded by secrets. That is where my duties lie, but I wouldn't exactly say my loyalties."
With both hands Allison reached up and cupped his face and drew him into a kiss. She hoped it would be enough to comfort him. She felt her heartbeat like mad and wasn't certain what that translated to but from the press of his mouth there wasn't much by way of calm. She pulled back and smiled, watching intently as his eyes slowly fluttered open. "Until I have proof," she promised, "I'll keep my eyes peeled."
.
Isaac barely stepped through the Diner doors when Kate pulled him aside, around the back where the rats chased beneath the dumpsters, for private conversation. As Stiles would have pointed out, some things are cliché for a reason.
"Sorry about the runaround handsome," Kate grinned and even at a standstill she looked like she strutted.
Isaac shrugged and kept still. He felt bothered and bored. He wasn't going for cool he just felt bone tired. No doubt the earlier smoke inhalation had something to do with it.
"Don't say I never gave you anything pretty," she said playfully and tossed him a large lighter. "You played a good game, we're even now."
Isaac caught the Zippo midair. It rattled loudly in a weird hollow way and didn't feel like it held any butane. Isaac looked at her in utter confusion. She raised a brow and gave a gesture for him to flip it over.
"We'd already identified Derek's body earlier; I just wanted to hear your testimonial. I thought a sit-down dinner would be nicer than beating it out of you," Kate turned to walk slowly back toward the vehicle.
"What the hell do you mean by that?" Isaac's temper caught up with him as he caught up with her.
"I mean, you wanted information about Derek, there it is," she glanced over her shoulder at him, annoyed at his less than hidden method of secretly conversing. "The SAT phone doesn't carry any imagery aside from maps. But when Hunters look for proof a corpse is a Werewolf we don't go for photos, they can be doctored. We pull out the claws."
Isaac stopped mid-step. He thought about the loud hollow rattle. Kate shook her head and turned back a step.
"It's so that the medical examiners don't look too closely," she grabbed up Isaac's hand in hers and made him rattle the Zippo.
Isaac had felt her hands on his once before in the Diner, he remembered the firm grip and precise pinch she touched on a nerve that set his claws to retract against his will. Given enough applied science, it made sense Hunters could and would pull the claws from corpses. When he had woken up enough to snatch his hand back, she looked remorseful for less than a second before her smirk slid into place.
"The claws inside are definitely Derek's. But the container used to be Peter's I think," she gestured to the Zippo as she started away, "I held onto it for evidence. It's pretty fitting."
Isaac's mind worked slowly, as if through molasses. He had long ago concluded Derek had been dead. But there was 'Dead in one's imagination' and 'Dead a Hunter just handed over my Alpha claws and sauntered away'. Of course, she could be lying, just as he had lied to himself over the demise of his pack before knowing proof.
Of course, she had provided Derek's claws in a gold embossed Zippo casing, the outside of which had a Triskele carved.
.
Track 09 - Your Friends Are Gone by Circa Survive
.
{Thursday/Friday – Midnight, Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, City Central}
The Beacon Hills Memorial remained in crisis mode due to the after-effects of the blackout and pile ups the accident had caused. The power blinked on and off and security zipped around but the priorities weren't patients sleeping peacefully in separate wards. The din of people and machines reminded her very much of the Diner she had left behind. In that likeness, as Lydia's emotions heightened the people walking, talking, and mostly complaining around her turned into white noise.
Lydia had enough experience with hospitals lately to know which doors lead to which wing and had the laxest security. Not to mention the 'Intensive Care Unit' was familiar territory for her. Her Mom didn't question Lydia's need to see Jackson. Natalie may not have liked him very much, but she never wished him grievous injury. She also understood seeing a loved one injured was better than not seeing them at all. So, Natalie agreed to remain back in the waiting room and gave Lydia space she needed, as long as her daughter promised not to go further than the observation window. Lydia justified her actions by clarifying her Mother didn't specify which side of the window to stay on.
While inside, Lydia collected the curtain around them and hoped that would provide a little privacy. The lax privacy of hospitals had always amused her, each room essentially an over booked hotel with different accessories like a heart monitor or a defibrillator. Meanwhile people would pop their heads in every few hours to take blood or urine or just see 'check-in' and they would do it often enough that you would never get any rest. How is that for privacy?
But there was room for intimacy. When she neared Jackson, she remembered the feel of curling up beside him and she remembered the look of him sleeping. It was different than the look of him half dead. They had removed his clothes and left him attached to enough instruments to make him look like a human puppet. She wanted to examine him, but she wasn't certain she was brave enough to confront what she'd find.
She pulled up the bed sheet from the bottom of his cot and examined his bare foot. She scanned to see if there were markings of scales or extended nails. She was relieved to find she could find nothing aside from some discoloration that looked like burns.
"Lichtenberg figure," Lydia muttered as she found burn scars along the soles of his feet and a similar pattern moving up his calf. Splaying branches blooming black and vein-like "but these are only supposed to appear on lighting strike victims." Her face screwed up in confusion.
It had been hours since he had been brought in. Hours. He showed no more sign of healing despite his supernatural ability.
She sped around the bed side and inspected Jackson's hand, splaying his fingers wide in and pressing his palm open against her. Then she examined his eyes and touched his face, running her hands over his brow and brushed her hand along his cheek. She felt he warmed to her touch, or she could have imagined it. She restrained herself from checking to see if he had a tail. Aside from the occasional scorch marks nothing showed signs of degeneration.
"I'm sorry. I wish I understood more," she wiped away a tear and cleared her throat, "but I'm trying."
In fact, she sensed something, and she didn't like it. She desperately needed out.
Lydia yanked apart the curtains to find herself caught in the eye line of an observer. Stood just on the other side of the glass was Kira Yukimura. She looked on wide-eyed but unsurprised and like she didn't seem inclined to call security at all.
.
Track 10 - Moonchild by Segal
.
{Back Outside - Tony's 24 Diner, Parking Lot}
To the chagrin of the waitress, Stiles remained in the entrance of the Diner. Scott and Allison stepped off to the side for their 'Epic' goodbye/goodnights while Isaac and Kate disappeared to the devil knows what, which left Stiles to twist in the wind. This for Stiles meant remuneration; the detailed obsessive reliving and reviewing what he could have, should have and would have done differently.
Despite being denied, it didn't mean his sentiment wasn't heartfelt when he rambled off into Lydia's voicemail.
"Hey, I think I owe you an apology and I'm pretty sure it's a long time coming but I don't know what for. I, shit, I don't know what I did wrong though so I'm sorry for that too 'cause it's my experience anytime a guy thinks he hasn't done anything wrong means he definitely did something wrong...I think I shouldn't have let you walk away from the table. Even though I'm pretty sure no force on earth could have stopped you. Maybe I should have walked out with you. This... this is not going at all as planned. Not that I had a plan. shit. I should really plan things, or at least plan them better. I said I would be honest with you, so this is me being honest, I guess. When we were in the basement breathing in that smoke tonight, I saw us in the car again only this time I didn't, you know, I didn't end up leaving you and Scott. And it was awful, and it was the smartest ugliest scariest best thing I could have ever done. I should have never- I don't exactly apologize for that day being as shit as it was. But I can apologize for a lot of things that came after. I let you go that day because I had to. But I didn't have to let you- I didn't have to let you guys go every day after that. I'm sorry it drove a wedge between you and Scott. I'm the worst. God. I'm sorry. Honestly sorry. Okay, I think that's what I wanted to say. You said we're monsters because of choices we made to survive. Come on, that's messed up. Sure, maybe if you were around, you would have thought of better ones. Probably. I'm sorry those choices hurt you, they weren't meant to... but you've got to get passed it 'cause seriously you can't be like that. Shit, shit, shit I didn't mean it, this is turning into a not great apology. Can I say one more thing before I really piss you off and you delete this and we pretend it never happened and it was all because of psychotropic smoke?... Scott said he tried to get over my death and you never did. Thanks. Okay. Bye. Erase this. Bye. Shit."
Playlist Available: 8tracksDOTcom / bhanesidhe / 12-were-you-told
Playlist: transferred over to youtubeDOTcom / bhanesidhe / playlist