SEVEN

Before his father had arrived home Deaton and Derek had gone. Scott figured he might as well spend the rest of the night as it was already so late. Stiles had a feeling that none of the wolves had gone too far, though. Deaton didn't end up laying down the mountain ash line either. Likely because he didn't want to return in the early hours to break it when Scott needed to leave or Stiles wanted to. And it wasn't like he could just tell his dad everything. Not yet anyway.

Sleep hadn't come easy, just as it hadn't for the last few nights. He'd heard his father come home and the shower kick on not long after. Scott had fallen asleep against the wall beneath his window, his mouth hung open with soft snores filling the quiet of his room. Stiles snapped his eyes shut when he heard his father open the door to peak in at him. Over the years he had had more than enough practice to feign sleep for his father.

Noah didn't linger for more than a few seconds, probably only having taken as long as he had because of Scott drooling. Stiles would have to tease him about that later. It was well after dawn when he finally managed to drift off, having pulled the blanket over his head to block out what light streamed passed his curtains. Maybe he needed to invest in some of the blackout curtains.

"BAH!" He shouted, arms flailing to untangle himself from the blanket when a hand roughly shook his shoulder. Everything was fuzzy and unfocused due to the sudden light on his face. If not for the familiar smell of his fathers aftershave, he wouldn't have realized who it was and that panic would have taken hold. "Geez, dad! Little warning?!"

His hands immediately flew upward, rubbing sleep from his eyes with a huff. Stiles would have been content to sleep for another forty hours. Squinting around the room showed Scott was gone and Noah looking at him in mild exasperation.

"Warning? Stiles, I've been calling your name for five minutes. Get up, it's 2!"

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Come on, I ordered us lunch."

Stiles sighed bodily and flung the blanket off of himself. Throwing his bare feet over the side, he took a moment to stretch before actively working to get off the bed. "Dad, you're not supposed to be eating take-out." He said through a yawn, one hand scratching at his side.

"It's Chinese!"

"Loaded with sodium, old man." He groaned and pushed a hand back through his hair. It flopped back against his side while standing. When his father left the room with a dismissive wave Stiles picked through his dresser to change out of the pajamas he'd put on the night before. Jeans, a faded blue t-shirt and a blue and white plaid over-shirt were all tugged on before he'd slip into his shoes.

It turned out Scott had stayed. Scott stayed all day. Even when his father left again around 6:30 for work. The only time he'd gone out of Stiles' sight, besides bathroom breaks, was when he'd taken a call from Deaton around 4. Other than a brief glance toward Stiles indicating he'd fill him in later it wasn't discussed. Not in front of Noah, anyway.

He'd once more been filled with the desire to tell his father about everything that had happened. Every little important thing. In the end the surety that his father would put himself into harms way kept him silent. It was one thing to know that the Sheriff went out and potentially put himself between others and danger as an officer of the law and another to acknowledge that his father would literally put his life on the line for Stiles.

If there was one thing Stiles knew with certainty: he couldn't lose his father. He couldn't lose both of his parents. Noah had a long life still ahead of him and Stiles would do nothing that jeopardized that.

–

The Jeep bumped against the curb before it idled to a stop a block away from the Argent's house. Stiles plucked the keys from the ignition as he clambered out, making sure not to slam the door behind him. Scott wasn't quite as gentle which earned a quick glare. During the drive Scott had informed him that Deaton had talked to Allison's dad, Chris, about the mounting trouble the Alpha was causing. He'd told the hunter how many people the Alpha had turned, thankfully the emissary had omitted who had been turned.

The Argent's had already known that the Alpha was becoming a problem, it was one of the reasons they'd moved to Beacon Hills in the first place. It was the reason that Kate and Gerard had come to join them. Deaton had convinced the Argent's to go out tonight, with him, in search of the Alpha. Derek had informed the other wolves to be present too, though at more of a distance for now. Derek was going to stick closer to Scott and Stiles in case there was trouble within the house. From what Chris had told Deaton they were bringing all of their hunters, it was assumed that included Allison's mother.

Allison would be out with Lydia, a girls day. As they approached the house from the rear Scott listened for any movement inside, any heart beats that would suggest someone had been left behind. After a few moments silence he nodded to give the all clear. Stiles stared up at the house, only now having realized one vital problem. Reaching out he snagged the back of Scott's shirt to stop the teens movement.

"Uh, Scotty." He spoke in a whisper that he wasn't altogether sure was necessary. "How are we supposed to get in?"

A house like this, one filled with hunters and in the more wealthy district of town, was bound to have a nice security system. One neither of the boys would have a code to. Scott just rolled his eyes, already having thought of it.

"Allison almost never closes, or locks, her window. It's how we see each other most of the time." His brows wagged suggestively before ducking around to the front of the house. Stiles made a disgruntled noise and rolled his eyes.

Stiles twisted the baseball cap he'd worn around so the bill was closer to his neck as he followed. He made sure to stick closer to the shadows. When he saw Scott looking toward the second floor his eyes rolled again while giving a full body sigh.

"Sure, you can use your wolfy powers to get up there, I don't have those!" He flailed his arms and whisper shouted at the other boy.

Scott just grinned and hooked his hands together in front of him, nodding toward them then the roof to indicate he would boost Stiles up. Because a lack of upper body strength was going to prevail today! Heaving a sigh Stiles glanced back toward the quiet street and put his hands on his friends shoulders. It took three attempts for Scott to get him up there and Stiles was sure that the only reason he had was because he'd practically thrown him. At least Scott had the decency not to laugh about it.

After they'd climbed into Allison's room Stiles pulled out his cell to use as a flashlight. Scott, being the quieter of the two with his stupid wolfy stealth, went downstairs to search while Stiles began poking through the rooms upstairs. While he rifled through a dresser in the master bedroom, presumably Allison's parents, he had that thought again:

How was this his freaking life?!

The master bedroom contained nothing. At least nothing he would consider a tome filled with supernatural creatures. It was an average bedroom. The second bedroom also had nothing. Actually, literally nothing. A bed, empty dressers, empty closet. Unused guest room. He even shifted aside the blankets to look under the bed. Other than some dust bunnies there was nothing of note.

This was beginning to feel like a pointless endeavor. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms on the second floor and there wasn't anything of note to be seen. Just for the hell of it, he'd searched the linen closet too. Sure, there were books in various places but unless the tome they were searching for was concealed behind or within an encyclopedia or dictionary or a trashy romance novel, he doubted any of those were what they wanted. Out of curiosity he had pulled the 'S' volume from the shelf and rifled through it. Predictably, it was only an encyclopedia.

Not having heard anything from Scott for a while Stiles moved down the stairs, aware of the light from his phone. Best the neighbors not see anything flickering and moving around and call the cops. He'd have a hell of a time explaining this to his father.

"Scott?" He once more whisper shouted on the way down, unsure of where the other teen was.

"Back here," came the hushed reply from down the hall. Following the sound he ducked into what appeared to be an office. Scott was running his fingers along the collection of leather-bound books on the shelves lining the wall. There had to be hundreds.

"Geez.. you been in here the whole time?"

"I checked the living room, kitchen and dining rooms. There's another bedroom and the garage that still need looked through but.. Stiles." His finger paused while turning back to his friend. Stiles could read the boys hopeless expression even in the dim lighting.

"Yeah." With a sigh he stepped back toward the door. "Keep looking, I'll check the other room."

Stiles had no intention of going into the garage. Especially on his own. He'd rather not be in there when the Argent's arrived home. No. Thank. You. That was a recipe for disaster. Darting into the bedroom beside the office it was clear to see this one actually had some use. A dufflebag was half-tucked under the bed which was where he went first.

His fingers closed around something metallic and cold and.. familiar. A Beretta. Heavy fire-power to have just sitting in a bag under your bed. Due to his father's job Stiles had always had a fascination with guns. Not in the way that he wanted to shoot every one he could get his hands on, more in knowing what he could about them. What sort of damage each could cause, what guns different police and military used, the differences in calibers. Short of having picked up his fathers empty pistol a handful of times, Stiles had refrained from spending much time around real guns.

Probably for the best considering he was clumsy enough without putting a deadly weapon in his hands. Carefully shifting the handgun aside Stiles took notice of a small carved wooden box with a fleur de lis burned onto it. Curiosity got the better of him and he inspected it a little more thoroughly only to discover a set of bullets inside all with the same pattern engraved upon them along with a small vial of dried blue petals tucked into the top. He didn't need to be a botanist to recognize wolfsbane.

With a shake of his head Stiles quickly stowed the box away again and searched through what remained of the dufflebag in vain. A huff of annoyance escaped him before rising to his feet again. Either these Argent's knew how to hide everything well or there was nothing to hide here. After he made sure the room looked exactly as it had when he'd entered Stiles quickly moved back down the hall to the study where Scott was digging through the desk.

"Nothing?" The boy asked, eyes glowing golden to light his own way.

"Pretty sure you'd have heard me leaping for joy if I had." Stiles scowled to himself.

Scott exhaled a sigh and closed the drawer, probably harder than he'd intended. "Come on, we haven't checked the basement."

"Scott, come on, if there was something here do you really think they'd shove it in the basement? We should just message Deaton and get out of here."

Scott hesitated then nodded while reaching for his pocket. He froze with his hand in his pocket, eyes widening. "Stiles.. I dropped my phone."

"Are. You. KIDDING me?!" He hissed in response, flailing his arms. Casting a glare at him Stiles quickly dialed Scott's number. He watched as the teen listened for its vibration-since he'd turned he hadn't bothered with a ringtone. After a moment or two his gaze rose toward the hall.

Scott stepped around him and moved into the living room. Stiles followed behind and the second he picked it up Stiles ended the call. "Text Deaton and we'll.. oh god, what now?" He groaned at the look on his friends' face.

"Deaton messaged me almost 20 minutes ago.. the Argent's are on their way back!" His gaze shot toward the front of the house. "We need to go. Now."

Stiles hadn't needed that prompting, given he'd also seen the lights flash across the windows and heard the garage door rattle. Both of them darted for the stairs, moving significantly slower once they were on the second level. They'd barely made it to Allison's room when voices were heard below.

"Get her on the table." A woman's voice barked harshly.

"Come on Victoria, stay with me.." A man pleaded, the desperation in his voice made Stiles heart clench. And he didn't even know these people.

Scott reacted to it with a grimace. After catching sight of Stiles questioning gaze he yanked the teen further into Allison's room. "There's blood. A lot of it. Victoria is Allison's mom.. I-I think she's hurt." He whispered.

"Scott, we need to go."

The two had been almost to the window, moving as silently as they could, when an older voice carried up the stairs. This one exuded dominance and power, as though the man behind it was used to being in control. "Chris, you know the code."

"Gerard.. please." Came Chris' choked response.

Stiles could see his friends pained expression in the moonlight and frowned. He knew the guy was picking up on all the emotions from downstairs, but there was nothing either of them could do right now. Not without revealing they'd broken in. Or that Scott was a werewolf. Stiles really didn't want a bunch of hunters aiming guns at him.

Without another word they slipped out of the window in time to see the sleek black Camaro roll down the street. Derek had been circling the block since they'd parked. Stiles saw it slow for only a second before driving off again. He was guessing the guy had caught sight of the lights on in the house. That or he noticed the two of them slipping away from the danger that the hunters posed. Most likely Derek had known the Argent's were on their way home long before the two teens.

–

"It wasn't anywhere in the house?"

They stood in the animal clinic, Deaton's hands were splayed on the metal table in front of him. Derek leaned against the wall behind the man with his arms crossed. They'd called the emissary as soon as they'd gotten back to the safety of Stiles' Jeep without having been seen and agreed to meet there. Scott shook his head, frowning from his place across from the elder man.

"Not unless it was in the basement." Scott replied as he leaned against the table too. "We didn't have a chance to look, though."

They'd been going over this for the last thirty minutes, back and forth, and Stiles was already tired of the conversation. He'd already voiced his opinions on a tome like that being in the basement. Derek stared out of one of the many windows across from him, brows knitted down in silent contemplation. Stiles eyed him for a moment while lost in his own thoughts. Scott and Deaton continued their discussion until Stiles suddenly interrupted when an idea sparked.

"What if, what if it's not a book though?" He looked back to the two curiously.

"I'm afraid I don't follow, Stiles." Deaton watched him in that infuriatingly mystifying way.

If Stiles didn't know the guy was human he would have assumed he was some sort of wizard. Because despite his saying he didn't understand Stiles' statement he felt as though the man could read minds. Or maybe it was just that there was something about the veterinarian that set him on edge.

"Well, I mean, everything is digitized anymore, right? Medical records, police records.. everything. Who's to say they didn't do the same thing?"

"Like a thumb drive?" Scott asked, his puppy eyes widening in excitement.

"Maybe? Did you see any in the desk?"

The kid deflated just as quickly. "No."

Well. There went that idea. His lower lip was pulled in, chewing on it in thought. Really, he'd thought he was onto something. Honestly, Stiles still didn't see what the purpose of the bestiary was. Even if they had something that the could search through, they didn't have any ideas on what was going on with him beyond the mountain ash issue. Which reminded him.

"Did you get anything out of that blood?"

Deaton perked immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting for someone to ask. Or as though he had forgotten about it entirely. "Ah! Actually, it was interesting."

"Doc, you keep telling me I'm interesting and we might have a problem."

The emissary chuckled, then waved for Stiles to follow him out of the exam room. Neither of the werewolves made a move, probably to have their own private conversation. There was also their ability to hear the conversation without ever taking a step. Deaton lead Stiles to his office: which looked much like every other room in the building. The only difference was the desk that housed the mans laptop and another that reminded Stiles of the lab tables in chemistry class with an assortment of things upon it.

"Did you know that you're anemic?" Deaton asked making Stiles shake his head. Odd, considering he ate healthy enough. Most of the time. "Do you know your blood type?"

"I'm not sure what's interesting about that, but no."

"AB negative, rarest in the world. That means your parents blood types and Rh factors mingled perfectly to give it to you." There was an excitement in the man that Stiles just couldn't understand. Although, it didn't help that the guy was heading dangerously toward the more scientific side of everything. Which meant Stiles was likely to be lost. "Did you also know that your blood contains a strange antigen; more specifically a neoantigen?"

"Let's try that a little more monosyllabic.." Stiles had no idea what the hell an antigen was let alone a neo one. His blood type, while surprising, held less interest for him. He knew just enough about blood types to know that his own, while rare, wasn't some sort of life threatening concern.

"Everyone's blood has specific antigens, three types actually."

"No, no. Let's skip the science lesson." He waved a hand to hurry the man along.

Deaton chuckled at him, as though the energetic teen amused him. "A neoantigen is a mutation within the cells. Most commonly seen in cancer patients." If he'd not been leaning back against Deaton's desk Stiles was sure he'd have hit the floor with the way his knees buckled. Thankfully the man didn't give him time to dwell on this before he'd barreled on. Continuing with his science lesson anyway. "That's not to say the cells are cancerous, Stiles. I spoke with a colleague of mine at the hospital, keeping your name anonymous, about it. While he recommends a full work-up just to be certain, even he doesn't believe its any cause for concern. Not an immediate one, that is. As I said, it is an abnormal antigen."

With his mother's condition, it was no surprise that Stiles knew there was a potential of some terrible condition that could take his life. He just hadn't been expecting the big 'C'. He imagined anyone, regardless of age, would have had a similar reaction. Panic, terror, worry. "Are you saying it could be, like, eventually?"

"I am saying that a wide population of those with cancer have similar neoantigens. The ones within your blood are not.. quite as similar."

Perhaps it was the racing of his heart that brought the two wolves closer to the office. Stiles tried not to pay much attention to either of them. He also tried to settle his heart and breathing before a full panic attack could hit him. He'd rather not cope with that right now. Licking his lips, the teen reinforced his hold on the edge of the desk.

"How so?"

"He believes there is a genetic factor involved, perhaps something passed along by one of your parents. Perhaps both." Immediately Stiles thoughts went to his mother in the hospital and he had to force that away just as fast so that he could focus on the man's words. "Though it could also be attributed to the rarity of your blood type and Rh factors. There has not been much study done on those with your specific blood type, given its uniqueness. Again," he stressed this point, even without the werewolves keener senses the guy seemed to have picked up on Stiles' impending freak out, "neoantigens are commonly found in cancer patients, though yours is a mutation. Not specifically cancerous."

"Okay, so.. what are you saying here, doc?"

Movement in the doorway caught his attention and he spotted both Derek and Scott lingering on the other side. He only spared them a few seconds glance before turning back to Deaton. Even though it felt like this might not be as bad of news as the emissary had initially presented, he still didn't release his grip on the edge of the desk. As though it were grounding him.

"Your blood is an anomaly. One that I do not think will help us to discover what you are."

"Well, that's.. disappointing." The corners of his mouth tugged downward. After the brief heart attack the man had given him Stiles couldn't help but to feel a little underwhelmed. Maybe he'd been hoping for some sort of deeper answer here. Like there would be something ostentatiously obvious that would make the man say 'we've got it all figured out.'

Stiles liked mysteries, no doubt, just not when he was the center of it. Give him a murder or a strange robbery and he was all over it. He'd spend hours pouring over the details to find answers and get to the bottom of it. This? Without a sense of direction, what was he supposed to do? It wasn't the same as having little clues to follow. There were no clues.

At least none he could see.

"You kinda had my hopes up there, Doc.." The ghost of a smile that flickered across his features must have been enough to clue the doctor in that maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all.

"To be fair.. I'd only said it was interesting. Something that requires a bit more inspection."

"Which puts us back at square one, right? The bestiary?"

He looked toward the two wolves then, both of whom moved closer to the inner office. Deaton followed his gaze and nodded gently. "It would seem so."

"You mentioned a drive." This time it was Derek's lower tone. Even though there was no certainty that the information was on or in anything other than a book, Stiles nodded anyway. "They're small enough to be hidden.. we might not have hope of finding it without having a more general idea on what we're looking for. Even if we came across one USB stick, that doesn't guarantee it's the right one."

Stiles drummed his fingers on the underside of the desk while nodding. Scott looked as though he were going to argue it, to cut him off Stiles pointed at the elder teen with a finger-gun motion. "No, he's right. It'd be like looking for a needle in a stack of them.. There could be a hundred drives in that house and if it's encrypted we wouldn't even stand a shot of knowing its the right one."

The scowl on Derek's lips seemed permanently etched there. If Stiles hadn't seen the guy smile at Lydia and Allison he'd have thought he was incapable of it.

"What about Allison's mom. What happened there?" Stiles asked suddenly, looking between the two elder males. The question alone caused Derek to look toward the floor and Deaton to shift uncomfortably. Scott looked on with an apprehension, as though he didn't really want to know the answer.

Derek frowned, "Boyd texted me. The hunters tracked the Alpha onto the Preserve, a lot of them got hurt, Allison's mom the worst. She wasn't as trained as the rest and it looked like the Alpha bit her."

"That makes for a sad day in the Argent house.." Deaton murmured with a frown tugging his lips down.

"Why?" Scott asked at the same time Stiles brought in a question of his own.

"Something to do with that 'code' we heard about?"

Deaton nodded and glanced toward Derek, as though suspecting he already knew the answer. "When one of theirs is bitten they are watched closely. If the wound begins to heal, signaling that they are turning, their life has become forfeit. 'We hunt those who hunt us' has been the Argent motto for as long as I can remember. That leaves little room for the one they hunt to live among them."

"So.. Allison's mom is going to die?" Scott choked out the words.

"She was dead the moment she was bitten.." Derek replied, almost sadly.

"Who's Gerard?" Stiles asked now, remembering the name.

He'd not expected the wolf to growl, a feral sound. "That would be Allison's grandfather. If he is in town, we all need to be more careful. He does not hesitate before pulling the trigger on one of us."

"Scotty, you need to stay away from there.. before he tries to kill you."

Scott rolled his eyes as though Stiles were being ridiculous. "They don't know what I am."

Derek scowled again. "I wouldn't count on that." He watched the kicked puppy look play over Scott's features before shaking his head and turning to stare at Stiles. After a moment he released a sight and shifted his focus onto Deaton as though neither of the others even remained in the room."Is there another way? Another bestiary?"

Each set of eyes shifted toward the emissary in hope. Deaton looked at each of them in turn before his gaze was eventually settled onto the one who'd initially asked. "There are others, much further away than here within Beacon Hills. Though none of those will be as detailed. The Argent's have a very long history and, as such, have compiled the largest known bestiary." His lips pursed in thought, eyes narrowed. After a moment he raised a hand while standing, "I have a contact in Seattle. I'll need to go see her to gain access to her files."

Stiles watched as the kicked puppy expression melted off of his friends face, instead replaced with with an easy smile. As though he suddenly didn't have a care in the world. Lucky jerk. "The usual then?" Scott laughed softly and patted Deaton on the shoulder as the elder man passed.

Derek looked as lost as Stiles. At least he wasn't alone in that. Their gaze met from across the room and while the green-eyed teens expression didn't falter from its normal stoicism Stiles just shrugged.

His life was weird.

–

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