Chapter 13: The Fear

Of course it went straight to voice-mail when she tried to call Stiles. Of course Scott only gave a busy signal. Of course both the landline at the McCalls and the Stilinskis just rang and rang and rang until she got paranoid Stiles wouldn't be able to reach her, so she cut the call. Driving well over the speed limit, she tried the school — they were let out early, something related to the match later that day — and the Sheriff's station, who only informed her that all lines were busy, please call 911 in case of emergencies.

It was not until she zoomed past the Beacon Hills-welcome sign that the landline at the Stilinskis finally picked up.

"Noah Stilinski speaking."

"Sheriff Stilinski?" Joe burst out, at this point more surprised someone actually picked up the phone. "It's Joe. McCall. Uh, I don't mean to worry you, but have you heard from Stiles?"

The Sheriff seemed to hesitate on the other end. "If I've heard from Stiles?"

"Yes! Do you know where he is? For certain?" she pressed on and drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. Without seeing the actual picture Stiles had tried to send, she had no way of knowing if this was a life-threatening emergency. The vision of Kate Argent with a shotgun crept into her mind over and over and she could not take any chances. That said, she would prefer not to get the National Guard involved over nothing.

"Uh, yeah, I know for certain he's in his room," the Sheriff said calmly.

"Are you sure?"

Another silence, as if the Sheriff was trying to work out the reason for Joe's panicked voice. "Uh, yes, I saw him less than thirty seconds ago. And now I see you're parking outside our house, what ex-"

Joe cut the line and jumped out of her car. The Sheriff opened the door as she stormed up the driveway. He was dressed in plainclothes, but had the definite attitude of being at work. His brows furrowed.

"Hi," Joe said with a wide grin as she caught her breath. She was going to kill Stiles. "Scott asked me to pick something up, something about a school project..." She drifted off, still grinning excessively, and the Sheriff eventually shrugged to let her in.

"All right. I'm headed for work. Guess I'll see you at the game?"

Joe had no idea what he was talking about, but apparently there was a lacrosse match later that day. Aunt Mel worked a double, which meant Joe had to attend. Fine, she had the time anyway with the extended deadline. Joe gave the Sheriff two thumbs up and waved her hand vaguely towards the stairs. The Stilinski-home was in a different neighborhood, but reminded a lot of the McCall House with two stories and three bed rooms. The hallway was as far as she'd ever been in this house though, when she'd waited for Scott while picking him up.

"First door to the left," the Sheriff said and nodded his head in a goodbye. Joe stormed up the staircase and thumped the first door on the left with her fist.

Stiles' panicked voice came: "Uh, aah, just a second, dad!"

A split second later, Stiles threw himself out of the door and slammed his back against the doorway to shut it. The motion was enough to send a breath of air from inside his room to Joe. Her eyes widened with recognition immediately.

"Joe!" Stiles squeaked in hysteric surprise. He tried to grin, but the edges of his mouth never reached up before Joe pushed past him in the doorway. His skinny frame buckled when she shoved forwards. "W-wait!"

Too late.

"Whoa! Why are you- JEEZ!" Joe yelped and tried to shield her eyes with one hand and cover up Derek's half-naked form with the other. "Why are you always shirtless?!"

Derek Hale stood frozen with what looked like one of Stiles' t-shirts in his hands. The panic on his face was the most expression she had ever seen him emit. He had even stopped breathing, evident by how the muscles on his chest never moved a fraction. "Joe?"

"It's Joe!" exclaimed Stiles who had bounced after her into the room.

Derek's nostrils flared in barely controlled rage directed towards Stiles. "What is she doing here?"

"This idiot sent out an SOS!" Joe jerked her head towards Stiles, still trying not to look at Derek's torso. "And then he doesn't answer his phone! What else was I supposed to do?"

Stiles's face split in a small smile. "Aw. You care."

"Yes! I care! You are a literal child!" Joe yelled while using both hands to emphasize the outburst, glad for the outlet. She turned to face Stiles, effectively putting Derek and his muscles behind her. Stiles' incessant smile infuriated her further and she slapped at his shoulder with each word: "You - can - not - do - that! God! Save the emergency calls for an actual emergency!"

"Ow!" Stiles flinched from her light attacks. "But just to be clear, you also care about me becaus-"

"Aargh!" Joe shook her whole body, trying to shed all the excessive panic built up while driving here, and then turned to the final occupant of the room. Her voice turned as soft as she could make it: "Hi, sorry, I'm Joe. Scott's cousin."

"Danny," said Danny, a tall and muscular boy of what she guessed was Hawaiian ancestry. He had remained by the computer when Joe burst in.

"You're on the lacrosse team, right?"

"Yeah, I'm the goalie."

"Nice to meet you," Joe said earnestly and Danny nodded in return. She vaguely noticed Derek shrugging on the t-shirt in his hands, also just vaguely noticing how the muscles rippled on his abdomen at the movement. Every time he moved, a new waft of scent assaulted her senses, and she bit her teeth together to stay angry. Focusing on Stiles, she asked: "So, what's the actual emergency?"

"You didn't get the picture?" Stiles asked and practially radiated innocense.

"No, because my phone looks like this now." She held up the old Nokia and Stiles paled in understanding. "Jesus Christ, Stiles, I called you, Scott, the school, the hospital..."

Danny cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. He had apparently finished something on the computer and was rising with his backpack and jacket. "Uh, the text you wanted was sent from a computer. All the info's on the screen. I, uh, I gotta get going."

He gave everyone an unsure wave, said something about nice meeting you to both her and Derek, and Joe pushed Stiles out of the way to allow Danny a free exit. Stiles absent-mindedly said a good bye before he dove to the computer. That left Derek and Joe in the back and he was watching her warily, almost apprehensive. Like she had been the one going on an animalistic rampage in his house.

"What the hell, Derek?" she finally snapped and threw her hands up. "Is this some kind of reverse psychology? Figuring the last place the cops would search would be the home of the goddamn Sheriff?"

His gaze flickered to the side, as if he could not face her.

"Why is he here?" she demanded at Stiles' back. "Stiles!"

"Because," said Stiles in an exasparated tone. "Scott accidentally made him the most wanted man in the state and we're trying to help clear his name."

"Why are you not taking this to the police? Like, as in your dad?"

Joe groaned when Stiles shushed at her and rubbed her temples irritably. All this running around scared was starting to give her a headache. Professor Kane's words about not playing detective echoed in her mind and she was tempted to just up and leave. If it hadn't been for Scott...at least he was nowhere to be seen, hopefully preparing for his match later instead of running around with wanted fugitives.

"Fine, why am I here? What picture did you try and send me?"

Stiles tore around and thrust a piece of paper into Joe's hands. He must have caught some expression on Derek's face because he blurted out with spread arms: "What? Joe's literally our best source of knowledge. She's writing a whole thesis about this stuff!"

"It's not a thesis," Joe mumbled, but absent-mindedly as she tried to make heads and tails of the drawing Stiles had handed over. It looked to be sketched out of memory on a legal pad and showed some sort of crest. It had absolutely nothing to do with her field of research, but it did look familiar.

Derek kept a respectful distance, but still tried to peer over her shoulder. "You've seen it before?"

"I think so," Joe replied, lost in thought. "Or at least something similar. It looks like it's a family crest." It might have been a pendant of some sort — the drawing included a border around the different symbols. "You see here, that's the most obvious one, right? A wolf. Now wolves, lions and bears are probably the most common animals used in coats of arms, because they're fierce and whatever, but this one's different. Look at how the wolf is positioned."

Joe pointed to the drawing and both Stiles and Derek craned their necks to see. "It's not in a, uh, threatening position, right? It's showing us its entire side. That's how you typically see boars or deer portrayed when they're hunted. This part here," she pointed again, "looks like a spear. These two on the side represent arows. And the chains are obvious."

Derek and Stiles followed her cues to the different parts of the crest. "The less obvious part is the sun and the moon. Since this is obviously a coat of arms for a family that takes pride in hunting wolves, I think the celestials could represent how they hunt both day and night. These lines up here are actually alchemist's symbol for silver and the rugged part here is probably meant to be tracks, as in tracking a prey."

Joe gave the drawing back to Stiles. "That's all I can deduce without actually seeing it in real life."

"Wow." Stiles put the drawing on his desk and then put both hands behind his head. He looked at Joe for a few seconds, as if gauging her reaction. "You're pinning all the dots and still not making the connection." At her furrowed brows, he shrugged widely. "Joe, you are officially the stupidest smart person I know!"

"It's symbolism," she exclaimed and tried to smack Stiles, but he dodged. "Not meant to be taken literally. Anyway, I know where I've seen it before. It's from the legend of The Beast of Gev-au-dan." She winced at her own butchered French. "That's the first written account of werewolf hunters."

A long silence followed and Stiles' eyes twitched as he stared at her. When she just shrugged back he threw his hands out and adressed the stoic Derek Hale. "She's saying all the words, but still not getting it."

"Shut up," Derek shot back immediately. His normally sunny disposition was one of dark thoughts now. "It doesn't help us." She saw his jaw flex and relax several times before he managed to look at her. "I mean, you did help us, but it doesn't tell us anything new."

Joe cocked an eyebrow. He was acting spazzy. "Whatever." She looked at Stiles. "Why was this important enough to warrant an SOS?"

"It was one of the clues left behind by- ow! Jeez!" Stiles croaked as Derek's hand shot out and grabbed his shoulder in a hard warning. Stiles brushed of Derek's hand and retreated a few steps before looking at Joe again. "Fine! It's just a clue. Left by no one."

The only one in any position to leave clues for them would either be the real murderer — or Laura Hale. Joe bit her lip, tempted to reveal Laura's work with Jimmy, but decided against it for now. Despite Jimmy's insistence that Derek wasn't the murderer, he did not seem keen to take up the same kind of allegiance with Derek.

"What about the text?" Derek finally asked Stiles, after they finished glaring at each other.

Joe looked between them. "What text?"

"Well, uh..." Stiles began and gestured towards the computer screen that Danny had left open. "You better see for yourself."

Keenly aware of Derek's intoxicating scent surrounding her now — this was probably the longest she'd been in an enclosed space with him — she tried to keep Stiles between them as she also leaned forwards to look at the screen. The page showed a bunch of computer mumbo-jumbo, but the last line was the interesting one. The text originated from a specific user at the Beacon Hills Memorial: Melissa McCall.

"Aunt Mel sent a text?" she asked, not seeing the significance.

"No way," Stiles muttered and slammed himself back in his chair. "It couldn't have been her."

"What text are you tracing anyway?" Joe said and tried to get a better look. The motion accidentally brushed her shoulder against Derek's and she could have been convinced she'd been tasered again. She jolted away from him, the edge of her shoulder burning, and thanked God he didn't appear to have noticed. He focused on the computer, neck muscles tense.

"Uhhh..." said Stiles in a drawn out way that was the most surefire way to know he was planning to lie. Joe squinted and looked at the time stamp. It matched with the night of the janitor's murder.

"Aunt Mel is connected to the dead janitor?" she exclaimed, looking between the pair of them in case either of them budged. "Come on! I just broke a dozen speed limits getting over here to look at your stupid crest, the least you can do is answer me!"

Stiles faltered and made a bunch of inquisitive expressions at Derek. The latter seemed to finally make up his mind and pushed himself up to stand tall in front of Joe. This was the first time today he had straightened up to full height and she was reminded just how big he was.

Derek's jaw was tight and he seemed to struggle to say the words: "Go home, Joe."

"Excuse me?" Joe had bent backwards to save herself from his alluring scent that gave her body all the wrong cues. Her brows were drawn tightly together. "If Aunt Mel is involved, I-"

His nostrils flared and he grabbed hold of her arm to steer her closer to the door. He cast a dark look towards Stiles, who did his utmost to pretend he was neither seeing or hearing them. Derek's voice was still tight, but surprisingly gentle. "I can't protect the both of you. You need to go home. I need you to go home."

Both of them looked at his large hand clasped around her wrist and he let go immediately. His breath came heavy, like he struggled to be in control, and Joe could imagine him flipping out again, growling and clawing up the woodworks.

Derek shut his eyes, squeezing them together. "I'm sorry. I don't...I'm not trying to... I..." He let out a low growl of frustration. The hair on Joe's arm rose in response to the sound, and especially with the last word he forced out without looking at her: "Please."

Joe's eyes darted over to Stiles, who sat poised and obviously listening in on them. Derek's voice was so low she couldn't imagine Stiles heard a thing. Derek opened his eyes briefly and she swallowed at the disconserting feeling of being caught in his stare. He closed them again in defeat when she shook her head.

"I'm not going home if Aunt Mel is involved!" she protested. Derek's mouth twisted downward and the muscles on his body shifted as he breathed heavily. "So either tell me what's going on or I'm gonna go ask-"

"Damn it!"

Joe jumped as Derek slammed his fist into the wall. The impact sent several of Stiles' posters flying to the ground.

Stiles piped up: "Hey, hey, hey, easy with the property damage."

She hardly heard him, full focus now on the absolutely livid Derek Hale. His breath came in long even draws that made his chest rise up and down, showcasing all that muscle, all that strength, that could do some serious damage. His eyes were open and wild, almost glowing, and her breath halted when he shouted:

"GO!"

Legs moving on their own, she stumbled backwards to the door, desperate for an exit. Her eyes never left Derek, his face twisted in an awful grimace, as he came towards her. She paused, trying to think, trying to be rational, and he slammed both hands to the doorframe next to her and let out an animalistic roar in her face.

"LEAVE!"

Her heart beat so fast she was sure she would suffer a stroke. Unthinking, unseeing, she fled out of the Stilinski House and dashed to her car. Hands shaking, she struggled to get the key in the ignition and instincts had her checking the front door she just came out in case he was after her. It was not until she stopped the car again outside the McCall house that her breath came back.

Joe sat stiffly in the driver seat, both hands still locked on the steering wheel, even if she turned off the engine several minutes ago. She could feel her heart thumping hard against her ribcage, see the goosebumps lining her arms, taste the wild panic of short labored breaths.

What just happened? She looked wild eyed around the car, suddenly unfamiliar and strange. The McCall House outside almost made her sick. Her mind swam. Dizziness made her sway in her seat. Her head slumped back against the headrest. What just happened?

Never in her life had her whole body filled to the brim with such primal raw fear. She'd been skeptical of Derek before, anxious, worried, apprehensive, but not scared like that. Even the other night at their house, she could not really believe he would hurt her. Now she could. And she'd left Stiles alone with him. The thought of going back made her squirm. He hadn't threatened Stiles though. Just her.

Her eyes fell on the digital clock display on the dashboard. Almost match time. Stiles would be there, Scott had said something about Stiles making first-line. Scott would be there. If she went to the match, it'd be okay.

At least that's what she managed to convince herself.

The carpet in the living room would have deep furrows by the end of the night if Joe kept up this pacing. After returning from the Stilinskis, she had found it impossible to relax. She'd locked the doors, checked the windows, charged her taser and she still felt like the shadows were going to jump up and attack her at any time.

She'd called the hospital, asking for Aunt Mel, and the conversation lasted all about fifteen seconds before Aunt Mel had hurriedly informed her that it was a busy night and she needed to work. She sounded okay. She did not sound at all like she had anymore inside information about the dead janitor at the school, not that Joe could pinpoint how that would sound anyway.

Scott had finally texted her back and confirmed when the match began and that he would go directly there. No hints of where he currently was. Joe gnawed on her lip. She felt like she needed another shower, but going out in the winter night with wet hair did not sound tempting. With all the clothes she'd bundle up in, no one would notice how sloppy she looked.

The clock ticked ever closer to match start and Joe paced in tune with the ticking. This was not the first time she went alone to these games. After all, Aunt Mel often had to work. So why was this spiky pit in the bottom of her stomach churning at the thought of going alone tonight? Scott would still be there, although on the field. The Sheriff was gonna be there.

The Argents...

The thought of Kate made her shudder again. No reason for her to attend the game as far as Joe knew, but it was the sort of thing that happened in small towns. You sort of showed up to whatever was happening. High school lacrosse games included. She wished now that her old gang from her undergrad years were still at Berkeley, they would definitely go with her to keep her company. Almost definitely at least. If she paid for their gas.

They usually had a reunion in the Spring. The closest one of them lived in Seattle, hours away even if she suddenly decided to drop everything at Joe's call.

A knock at the front door made Joe stop pacing. She made no inclination of moving to answer it. What if it was Kate? Or Derek? Or Mister X? The mystery person knocked again and she saw the silhouette move through the hallway window.

"Delgado! Joe!"

Joe's shoulders relaxed and she opened the door to see Jimmy Carter out on the doorstep. He wore surprisingly normal clothes, if you counted black and white checkered pants normal. It contrasted with the red tip of his nose, a byproduct of the outside chill.

"Hey," she said and let him into the hallway. It was getting colder every minute now that nightfall approached. "What's up?"

"What's up? You never returned any of my calls!" Jimmy exclaimed and stamped his feet inside to get some warmth back. Joe peered outside, but couldn't see his car. He must have parked down the street and walked over. "I was going to wait the normal twenty-four hours before reporting you missing, but thought I'd better check your house first."

"Right," said Joe and now guilt joined all the other bad feelings pooling around inside her. Last he heard from her, she was pursuing the unmarked car chasing Derek Hale.

"Right!" Jimmy looked around the house in disdain. It was a stark contrast with his minimalist style. "So, what happened?"

Joe paraphrased the events of last night, revealing Kate's identity, but leaving out the part about the shotgun and frisk search.

"Kate Argent..." Jimmy mused aloud. He took out a notebook and apparently wrote it down. "I've seen or heard that name somewhere. I'll have to cross-reference my notes."

"Her niece was one of the girls at the school the night the janitor died," Joe explained, hoping to deter Jimmy from any more supernatural theories by giving Kate a real motive.

"Argent means silver in French, you know that?" Jimmy said absent-mindedly and Joe felt a tingle in the back of her neck. Silver, like the symbol on the crest for a family of wolf hunters. Silver, like the most common werewolf deterrent in all folklore. Wolf hunters. Werewolf hunters.

"Filling in the blanks," she mumbled and rubbed her temples. She was doing exactly what Professor Kane had warned her about. Before, she had always viewed the culprits of folklore myths as simple people with simple theories. Now that she was smack in the middle of it, she could sympathize a little more. Letting her limp curls fall back, she became aware that Jimmy was giving her the same disdainful look he'd given the house.

"You doing okay, Delgado?" he asked with a bushy brow raised high. "You're looking a little worn."

Joe hugged herself, self-consciously folding the hoodie to hide her frame even more. She usually wore at least a minimum of make-up when leaving the house, but could not be bothered the last few days. It probably made her look worse than she felt.

"When was the last time you slept? Or ate something?" Jimmy scrutinized her in her oversized outfit. "Or had anything to drink other than coffee?"

Her mouth opened to answer each of the questions, but she found that no words came. She did not know. Instead of admitting that, she shrugged. "I'm fine."

"You sure? You're taking this whole overworked grad-student look a bit too far."

"Jesus, I'm sorry I didn't get all made up before you dropped in unannounced!" Joe snapped and marched back to the door. "You're free to leave if my appearance offends you that much!"

Jimmy gaped at her with an angry frown on his lips. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, but then closed his eyes and took a deep breath like a meditating monk would. The hairs of his beard vibrated as he exhaled. He caught her disturbed look and shrugged. "Anger management classes." Joe's eyebrows rose, but he continued before she could comment. "I was not trying to offend you. I was simply expressing my concerns about your welfare, and I apologize for the lack of tact."

That left Joe hanging by the door, unsure of where to look. "Oh." She nodded awkwardly. "Uh, okay." He seemed to be waiting for more response so she shrugged while studying the sand left behind by Scott's oversized sneakers on the floor. "Apology accepted, I guess?"

It apparently did the trick, because Jimmy nodded. "You want to go grab some food? Not as a date, obviously, just...food."

"Yeah, that'd be okay," Joe admitted, finally allowing herself to feel her body's hunger cues. "Oh, shit, I can't! I gotta go to this lacrosse match..." A thought struck her and she sized Jimmy up. "You wanna come with me?"

"I'm not really a sports fan," Jimmy said and his expression confirmed it. He looked like he had a permanent bad smell in his nose.

"Please?" Joe asked and hated how desparate she sounded. Accompanied by Jimmy Carter beat showing up there alone. "We can pick up food on the way!"

"Sitting outside on some freezing bleachers watching high schoolers run around on a fake grass field is not my idea of a good time."

Joe shifted her weight from one foot to another. Desperate times, desperate measures. "How would you like to get your hands on all the police files for Laura's murder up until Derek's arrest?"

His face blanked in shock. "All of them? How?"

"I'll give you both the files and the backstory if you come with me to the game."

She could practically see the inner war going on in his head. His hate for jocks vs. his curiosity in the case. In the end, he nodded and struck out his hand.

"Deal."

It's not always easy being Joe. By the way, the interpretation of the Argent crest is my own, I never found any official explanation of the symbols in canon. Hope it's not too far-fetched.

As always, thank you for reading. Please leave a comment if there was anything you liked, disliked or think I got wrong. In general, anything at all :)

Extra shout out to you guys who leave reviews for every chapter. Three updates this week is all attributed to you!