The library of Beacon Hills was housed in one of the town´s older buildings near the High School. Its whole clinker façade was covered by ivy which gave the building a kind of fairy tale charm, as if behind its doors secrets of magic and other wonders awaited the curious visitor. The many young students that frequented the building didn't seem to care much for its odd charm, though, laughing and rough housing on its steps and generally acting as if they didn't have a single care in the world.
Ah, the follies of youth, Donna thought as she watched the teenagers around her. They sat together in groups, pretending to study the books in front of them, but it would only need the smallest of distraction to have them look up and start talking. Maybe the students who actually did want to study were inside the building instead of lounging outside on the grass.
She and Harvey didn't really fit with the crowd, though; he wearing another suit (this time only two pieces and he had even left the tie at the hotel) and she with a blood-red costume and high-heels in matching colour. They looked like money and the people around them steered clear of them accordingly. If she had known that they wouldn't here for their usual business, Donna would have packed more casual clothes, but sadly her foresight had failed her.
"Aren´t there any people around here who are over eighteen?" Harvey asked, disdain clear in his voice as they made their way up the stairs that led to the big portal doors.
"It´s 11am on a weekday," Donna pointed out. "Everyone above eighteen either has a job or no interest in books." She forgave Harvey his foul mood for she knew where it stemmed from: Mike had again weaselled himself out of coming with them, instead going to the same 'friend' he had spent his time with yesterday and the day before.
She also knew that Harvey disliked Mike´s actions not because he needed someone who could 'read those goddamn newspapers, so that I don´t have to' but because he wasn't used to Mike not putting Harvey and his needs first. Maybe she was a little bit unfair, Donna conceded, because Harvey would move heaven and earth to help Mike, but usually Harvey led and Mike followed – sometimes with loud grumbling, but in the end he always followed. But ever since they had arrived in Beacon Hills Mike seemed to have grown – not a backbone, because when push came to shove he always had one – but rather a kind of resistance to Harvey and his commands. And Harvey didn't quite know how to deal with that.
And there was also the crush he nursed for Mike to consider, but that was obvious, at least to Donna (she also suspected that Jessica knew and if Harvey and Mike continued like that Louis would soon know, as well).
They stepped inside and entered a wide hall that was filled with shelves. Quite a few reading tables stood in front of a wide staircase that led up to a gallery from which you could overlook the whole main floor. People, mostly students, were milling around, carrying books and school stuff all under the watchful eyes of the librarians, a bunch of middle aged women and one man who sat behind a wooden counter to their left.
"What do you want us searching for?" Donna asked, pulling back her sunglasses so that she could use them as hairband.
"Anything that helps us getting information on Peter Hale," Harvey replied. "Stuff that helps us closing the case Jessica gave us."
"Very specific," Donna replied sarcastically. "Well, I guess it´s the newspapers then." The newspapers were upstairs on the gallery, so she and Harvey took the steps – evading trampling teenagers that weren't looking where they were going – and started with the editions from the last two years.
It was boring and repetitive work. Beacon Hills had barely 50 thousand inhabitants, so there wasn't really much happening and if there was the local newspaper seemed to have made it its mission to report it in the blandest way possible. Donna went through three lists of garden gnome competition winners and an incident of indecent exposure during the local fall festival before she gave up exasperated.
"You!" she shouted, pointing at a barely older than twelve looking boy who looked at her like the devil in person had appeared in front of him. "What´s your name?"
"Liam, mam," the boy answered, gulping nervously. Donna grinned.
"Does the name Peter Hale ring any bells?" she asked. The boy swallowed again before he replied.
"He´s one of the last remaining Hale family members," he told her. "It was a big thing a while back: Apparently Kate Argent burnt down their whole house while the Hales were still in it and killed everyone except him and two others – I think their names were Derek and Laura." Donna beckoned for him to continue. "He was in a coma for years, but he woke up a while ago and now you see him in town sometimes."
"You´ve been very helpful, Liam," Donna told the boy. She fished a ten Dollar note out of her purse and handed it over the boy who took it with wide eyes. "Buy yourself some ice cream or whatever twelve-year-olds eat today." She turned around and walked towards Harvey.
"I´m sixteen!" the boy called after her, his voice full of indignation. Donna just laughed.
"I´ve got something," Donna told her boss, who was just leaning against the shelf with his eyebrows raised at her. Bemused, Donna noticed a few girls a few rows behind Harvey giggling nervously whenever they looked at the man.
"I´ve heard what the boy told you," Harvey replied. "No need to repeat all of it."
"So, what´s our next step then?" Donna asked.
"Well, while you went and scared a boy into nearly wetting himself, I did a little bit of searching and read up on the Hale family in the older newspaper issues," Harvey told her as they made their way downstairs. "Seems that the family was really rich and lived secluded in the preserve that surrounds the town. They were the town´s philanthropists and when they were killed a lot of money that kept the town running dried up."
"But of what use is all that?" Donna wanted to know. "We´re no step closer to actually get Hale to agree to Jessica´s proposal!"
"We need a grasp on his personality before we continue," Harvey replied. "Next stop is the police station."
"They won´t just hand us over the police report," Donna remarked.
"When did that ever stop us?" Harvey pointed out. They were about to leave when one of the librarians – an already greyed lady with red-rimmed glasses that made her eyes look like a bug – stepped in front of them with a big smile on her face.
"Excuse me," she interrupted them. "But we were wondering –" she pointed to the other librarians who were all staring at them as if they were the main attraction of the zoo or something "- what brings you to Beacon Hills. It´s not often that we get such well-dressed visitors around here." Next to her Harvey put on his brightest client smile.
"Actually, we´re from New York," he told the women.
"New York!?" the woman exclaimed in awe. "That must be such a special place to live in." Donna suppressed a snort. Try taking the subway during summer or winter…or practically any time and you wouldn't be so easy to impress.
"It is," Harvey agreed with her. "But we really need to get going. We´re doing some time sensitive work for the law firm we´re working at."
"Oh, the sister of my cousin´s wife works at a law firm, too," the woman added, apparently in no hurry to let them go. "Which firm are you working at?"
"Pearson Specter Litt," Harvey replied. "Excuse us, but we really need to go."
"Pearson as in Jessica Pearson?" the woman called after them, stopping them in their tracks.
"Yes," Harvey answered confused.
"How´s dear Jessica doing?"
Derek didn't know why all underaged members of the Pack (which was practically everyone except him) had found themselves in his loft. Erica, Boyd and Isaac were lounging on his couch, Lydia and Allison were standing behind the kitchen counter while Jackson leaned against the wall and Scott had draped himself over one of Derek´s chair.
Derek was well aware that he wasn't approachable and that their pack dynamic wasn't the healthiest one. Boyd and Erica hovered at the edge of the pack, never really interacting with anyone besides Derek and Isaac every now and then. Isaac was torn between his loyalties to Scott and Derek whenever the two of them argued. Jackson was only here because he wouldn't survive as omega and Allison and Lydia came with their respective boyfriends. And Scott was only here because of Stiles.
The hardships they had endured had bonded them together, but they were more like the broken fragments of a mirror forced back into its frame, not really fitting together, sometimes even cutting into each other.
Derek knew that he was the odd one out. He was too old, too jaded, too broken to connect to these teenagers who may have had their fair share of grief but had never really experienced the loss he had.
Stiles somehow managed to make them work, though. Scott followed wherever his friend went, Lydia respected him and had forged a strong friendship with him and the 'Trio Terrible' (Stiles' name for them, not Derek´s) trusted him as well. He managed to smooth their hard edges; managed to make them work together, his way with words moving them forward instead of back.
So, no Derek didn't get it why everyone would be here, not when Stiles was not with them.
"Why are you all here?" he finally asked. That was another of his failures: Unlike Stiles, he didn't know how to use his words. It should be a normal question, but it came out as a gruff accusation, as if he didn't want them to be here (he wanted it, though, because he hated the emptiness and silence that came whenever the last of them had left after pack meetings).
"This is the only place where we can meet without parental supervision that´s also got a filled fridge," Lydia answered as if it should be obvious. She did that often; making others think they were stupid for asking simple questions. "You´re the only guy I know who´s got tofu and avocado."
"Scott´s fridge is a sad, sad thing," Allison added as Scott let out a dismayed "Hey!"
"Scott, last time you didn't even have milk and butter," Allison reminded him. "And you asked me if avocados were those 'hairy, green things'." Everyone shook their head in laughter.
"Where´s Stiles?" Isaac suddenly spoke up.
"Where he´s been the last few times," Lydia replied. "Magical training or however you want to call it."
An annoyed twinge shot through Derek´s mind. He could barely suppress his eyes flashing red when Lydia mentioned where Stiles was. He didn't like the mage who taught Stiles; not only because of his obvious dislike for werewolves, but also because he was an outsider whose motives and agenda they didn't know. Whenever new faces had come to Beacon Hills it had only meant trouble for them; who was to say that this Mike was any different.
But if he was honest with himself, it was also because Mike was able to show Stiles sides of the supernatural world that Derek would have never been able to show him. Derek had enjoyed his and Stiles talks about werewolves and other species, about magical theories and histories. It had made Derek feel like he was actually good at something, teaching a young mind, but over the last days Derek´s phone stayed silent while Stiles took his questions and went to the mage instead.
He felt useless again.
"I had a talk with my father yesterday," Allison spoke up, visibly looking uncomfortable as she brought the topic up. Suddenly everyone´s attention was focused on her. "He knew of Mike."
"What did he know?" Scott wanted to know.
"Well, it was quite a few years ago, Dad was still an apprentice then," Allison started. Derek looked at her, his expression bereft of any sign of emotion. "Mike accused an East Coast Alpha of murdering his parents, which the Alpha of course denied. There wasn´t enough evidence, so the Tribunal didn't find him guilty. A week later the whole pack had vanished. No one knew what had happened to them, but later there were reports of a pack of wolves haunting the forests around the town where most of the pack had lived."
"He turned them into real wolves?" Erica spoke from where she was sitting on the couch. Allison shook her head.
"He was only eleven back then," Allison. "My dad said he couldn't have been powerful enough back then, but there was no other mage around who could have. They called a mage from Toronto but she couldn't break the curse. Some human pack members who weren't affected by the curse tried to accuse Mike, but there was not enough proof."
"Poetic symmetry," Lydia remarked. "Not enough proof to punish the Alpha and not enough to punish the mage."
"And that´s the guy who´s teaching Stiles?" Derek asked. Allison shrugged.
"It could never be proven," she replied. "It´s all just rumours."
"I don´t like it," Derek grinded out. If all of this was true then the mage was far too dangerous to be allowed near them. Especially Stiles.
"Well, it´s not as if we´ve got a choice," Lydia remarked. Derek ignored the knowing gaze she sent towards him.
She knew nothing, even though she was right.