Chapter 24: The Convict
"No, I need to get to the police station before Isaac Lahey kills someone!"
Several questions sat poised on Joe's tongue. She settled for: "Who is Isaac Lahey and why's he gonna kill someone?"
"The kid from the cemetery!" Derek snapped and made a dark noise when the car laid on its comfortable maximum speed, a speed she guessed was a far way from where his own car usually sat.
"And he's gonna kill someone because...?" Joe prompted, but gasped when she noticed Derek checking the moon again. "Oh my God, Peter bit him too?"
The change in expression was miniscule, but she saw it. A slight twitch in his jaw and she turned in her seat. "Peter did bite him, right, Derek? Derek!" At no answer, she jumped up in her seat and flexed her hands to avoid slapping at the driver of the very fast moving vehicle. "Oh my God, Derek! What the hell? How old is he?"
"Sixteen-"
"Oh my GOD!" she yelled again, drowning out whatever rational response Derek tried to give. "What is wrong with you people?"
Derek bit his teeth together, but his voice raised to overpower hers, using the hand not on the steering wheel to emphasize: "He asked for it!"
"He's a child! He can't be asking for it! And he should not be making life-changing decisions at the age of sixteen! Jesus Christ, Derek!" Joe followed up with a long string of curse words and glared at the passing trees like they were the ones in fault because if she had to look at the driver she might commit homicide.
"He was receptive to the bite and he wanted it," Derek tried to explain but Joe still swore loudly, not interested in hearing it. "Now that I'm Alpha, I need a pack-"
"Oh nooo, did he kill his dad?" Joe breathed out, not hearing a word Derek was saying.
Derek seemed to take a deep restraining breath. "He said he didn't."
"Yeah, but anyone's gonna say that!" Joe exclaimed and just remembered how she had literally just learned that Derek's eyes used to be blue because he had taken an innocent life. Probably not the kind of thing you bring up to a pissed off werewolf during a full moon. "That's kinda the go-to for murderers!"
"I'd know if he was lying," Derek explained and turned his head towards her so she could see the flash of red eyes. "I'm the Alpha."
"Oh God, can you say anything that's not a complete cliche?" Joe muttered with an exaggerated roll of her eyes as it was easier than look directly at Derek. The eye flash, the growl in his voice — it was doing things to her body that her mind did not completely agree with. And despite her best efforts, he impressed her. He'd ran the distance from the Lahey house out to her in what, less than a few minutes or something. It had to be at least 10 miles. All because he thought she was in danger.
Something vibrated inside the jacket she still wore and Joe shifted around until she found what had to be Derek's phone. The name listed was: "Stiles?"
Derek grabbed the phone out of her hand while she tried to comprehend that 1) Derek had a cell phone and 2) Stiles apparently had his number.
"We're on our way," Derek barked, seeming more tense with each passing moment in the car. "One more minute! Didn't you say you delayed the hunter? Fine!"
"Hunter," Joe repeated while Derek cut the phone call off. "The Argents are going after the kid too?"
"They're out for blood," Derek growled and tried to press the gas pedal through the floorboard. Despite Joe's protests, he ran two red lights and the Ford's brakes squealed when they slid to a halt outside the Beacon County Sheriff's Station.
Stiles did a double-take in the front seat of his Jeep when he spotted them and jumped out. Instead of getting into the back seat like a normal person, Stiles decided to basically sit on Joe's lap in the passenger side of the Ford.
"Dude!" she exclaimed and shifted so she sat posed atop the handbrake, the only alternative to crawling into Derek's lap. "Where's Scott?"
"Allison's chaining him up in the Lahey's basement," Stiles said, like he was discussing the weather, and ignored Joe's double-take. He gestured towards the bright windows of the station. "Okay, now the keys to every cell are in a password protected lockbox in my father's office. The problem is getting past the front desk."
All of them craned their heads to look at the front desk deputy, a pretty dark-skinned woman in a form fitting uniform.
"I'll distract her," said Derek to Stiles' apparent amazement.
Joe leaned back when Stiles grabbed onto Derek's t-shirt to keep him from leaving the car. They bickered back and forth, Stiles not agreeing with Derek's plan of distraction.
"What are you gonna open with? Dead silence. That should work beautifully," Stiles scoffed.
"It's probably gonna work," Joe said and Stiles gave her a look of pure betrayal. "What? He's a very attractive person!"
Derek gave Stiles a cocky look as if to say 'See?'. Grumbingly, Stiles scrambled out of the car and Joe made to follow him, but was held back by the neck of Derek's jacket. She reached back and swatted at his hand, but Derek pulled her back so his ear was somewhere near her ear.
"Stay in the car."
"What? No way!" Joe exclaimed and the next thing she knew, Derek yanked on the jacket, flipping her back so she splayed over the driver seat. The split second of disorientation was enough for him to jump out of the car, key in hand and Joe listened to the tell-tale click of the car locking up.
She dashed forward to the passenger door and tried the handle and the lock-button, nothing giving any effect.
Derek turned with a wide-armed shrug as he walked backwards to the front doors of the police station. He pointed at her and mouthed: "Stay in the car!"
"You asshole!" Joe slammed her hand against the window. Stiles did not posess the same kind of hearing as Derek, so the idiot never turned around to wonder where she went.
Joe wrenched the stupid jacket off, stuffing it behind her seat, her mind fuddled enough already, and tried the driver side door instead. He must have disabled the locks or something! Damn it!
Fuming, she watched Derek walk inside first. From her position, she only saw his back as he leaned against the front desk and adressed the deputy. Whatever he was saying, it seemed to do the trick and Joe rolled her eyes hoping he could feel her annoyance. Their body language was more than enough to see they were hitting it off, and Joe noticed the woman looked a lot like Kelly, so that must be Derek's type. Go figure.
Joe thumped her head against the back of the seat to just avoid thinking. Stay in the car. Go home. Stay home. Ugh! Just the thought of it was enough to-
The fire alarm rang from inside the station. She scrambled up in the seat, but neither Derek nor the deputy was anywhere to be seen anymore. Shit.
She hit the door angrily, feeling helpless and useless stuck in the stupid car with the stupid jacket with his stupid smell making her stupid! "Damn it!" She'd hit her hand too hard on the window handle. Joe looked down. Jesus Christ, talk about stupid.
Growling under her breath, she cranked the window open. One of the positives of an old car, everything was mechanical. Vaguely recalling some safety procedure her dad taught her once, she went out backwards through the window, using the roof as support to get out. Hah!
The incessant ringing intensified once she got inside and made her cover her ears. No one at the front desk anymore, no sign of neither Derek or the deputy. Joe ran down to the Sheriff's office where Stiles would get the keys, but nothing there either. Instead, Joe slid in what appeared to be fresh blood on the linoleoum and she grabbed the walls for uspport.
"Eww," she groaned to herself, seeing the smear on her sneakers. It led down the hall, but she couldn't hear a damn thing because of the alarm. She decided to follow the trail, half-sliding around each corner until she came face to face with Stiles.
Unfortunately, he was being manhandled by a deputy with his hand clamped over Stiles' mouth. His eyes widened and he flailed hard at the sight of her.
"STILES!" she yelled and was already running when the deputy spotted her.
With a grunt, the deputy threw Stiles at her. He was a skinny kid, but Joe wasn't much bigger and they crashed down to the floor. "Oof!" Stiles had landed with his elbow into Joe's gut. Damn it!
"Oh no, no, come on!" Stiles yelled, scrambling to get up and dragging her along. The deputy limped towards the holding cells — the source of blood had to be that large arrow sticking out of his thigh. Stiles threw himself forward. "Aaah!"
The deputy dodged Stiles' wayward attempt of a tackle; he slammed to the floor in front of the cells. Joe did not like the look on the deputy's face and her feet was already moving on their own, gaining speed, lining her shoulder up to take him down.
Because his focus on Stiles, she hit him straight on with her shoulder into his chest. Although weakened, he was not down for count and she only dodged his fist coming for her because she tripped over Stiles and flopped to the floor again. The deputy turned to them and she did not like his expression anymore up close.
The deputy had a thick syringe in his hand, his fist squeezed around it while his face contorted in a sneer. Like he would have loved to use it on them. Joe flailed over to her back, crawling backwards and trying to drag Stiles along. Her eyes darted to all sides, looking for an exit and found instead an open cell.
The bent metal and broken hinges indicated a forced exit. The deputy followed her gaze and she thought she heard him swear under his breath.
She lay halfway across Stiles and they both shot up when a golden-eyed, fully turned and utterly enraged werewolf came bounding from the side.
The roaring, the rage — the deputy tried to fight, but the werewolf twisted his needle-holding arm until he dropped it. Joe flinched as the werewolf slammed the man's head into the wall with a crack that would mean a broken skull. She could feel Stiles' hand on her arm, pulling her back, back towards the hall again.
Sound of broken glass. Derek! She'd near forgotten about him! He slammed his heavy foot down on the rolling syringe and he noise caused the werewolf — the other werewolf — to turn. Its focus landed on Joe and Stiles.
Joe wished she had a shotgun.
The werewolf did not even take one step towards them before Derek side-stepped and roared at it with red eyes and bared fangs. The force was enough to make the werewolf skitter off to the side and Joe's knees to cave on their own.
She wasn't even aware of her own response before her butt hit the floor next to Stiles. The werewolf cowered, shielding its face with its arm, and the next time it peeked up it was back to the boy from the cemetery.
For a few seconds, only the sound of their breaths lingered in the air, Joe's ears ringing from the roar.
"How did you do that?" asked Stiles with a hard edge of fear still in his voice.
Derek looked at them over his shoulder. "I'm the Alpha."
"Cliche," Joe muttered and scrambled for foothold to get back up. "Total cliche."
Ignoring both her fast beating heart and the whimpering boy — whimpers meant he was breathing, still alive — she stumbled over and bent down by the unconscious deputy. Pulse, breathing, just out cold. Joe let out a long breath, shoulders slumped. "Alive."
She patted the man down and found both his badge and ID. Either real or a really convincing fake. He had half an arrow sticking out of his thigh, obviously the source of blood, and a small wooden box in his pocket. The inscription was of some sort of flower or plant.
"His name's not Argent," she said to the general audience. She put the badge into her own pocket.
"They've got a lot of people working for them," Derek said darkly and held a hand out to the kid. "We need to go. Front desk already called for backup." He addressed Stiles. "Stay here to make sure the guy doesn't run off."
"I don't think he's gonna do a lot of running anytime soon," Stiles said and got up from the floor at the same time as the kid — Isaac? — did to follow Derek. Stiles looked like he wanted to say something, but apparently changed his mind and waved at them. "Get out before my dad gets here."
"Joe-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Joe muttered, not too keen to stay behind either. There'd be questions and she would have to lie. "Go home. Whatever."
"No," Derek corrected her softly. "We need a ride to my car. Come on."
It was an order as much to the kid as her. Isaac Lahey seemed to try and make himself a lot smaller as he followed Derek out of the station like a lost puppy. If he straightened up, he would be taller than Derek. Isaac shivered and breathed hard, not looking a lot like something she wanted inside her car or anywhere near her. Her heartbeat still thudded in her ears.
"He's not gonna hurt you," Derek said over his shoulder as if he'd heard her hesitation. Or smelled it or whatever it was that werewolves did. "Not when I'm here."
Joe made a sour face and gave Derek's back the finger.
"Really, Joe?"
The guy must have eyes in the back of his head. They made it out of the station without running into anyone. Derek coaxed Isaac inside Joe's backseat and handed Joe the keys so she could drive. First she had to adjust the seat forward to even reach the pedals. Joe also adjusted the rearview mirror so she could keep an eye on the still shaking Isaac Lahey, who curled up in a ball behind Derek's seat.
"What exactly is it that the full moon do to you guys?" Joe asked, unable to help herself. She kept replacing Isaac's face with Scott. If Allison had to chain him up in some basement, it did not exactly sound like he had it under control.
"Makes us stronger, but deadlier," Derek said a low voice as she got the car started. They made their getaway and tried to duck in their seats when two police cars zoomed past them up the street. "Enhances everything. Anger turns to rage. Fear to paralysis. Infatuation to lust." Joe kept her gaze straight ahead at the road, not acknowledging the look Derek gave her. He waited half a second and turned back to Isaac. "It's easy to lose control."
"You seem to be doing fine," Joe said, not intending it as a compliment.
Derek shrugged, still halfway turned to keep an eye on Isaac. "I've had a lifetime of practice."
"Scott..." Joe swallowed. Not knowing what to ask, what to expect.
"Still needs more time," Derek conceded slowly. "He's relying too much on the Argent-girl. He's gonna lose control when he loses her."
When, Joe noted, along with the bitter undertone. When Scott loses Allison.
She glanced at the trembling boy in the backseat. Sweat made his curly locks lay flat against his scalp. She did not know if it was the full moon or the Alpha up front. And she did not know how Derek could have done this to someone, subjected them to this fate, but he had. Just as she did not know how Derek could have ever killed someone innocent, but he apparently had.
Joe did not breathe freely until both werewolves exited her car to climb into Derek's instead. Only then did the tears and the shaking come.
Okay, was she doing this? Joe sat in her car and tried to psych herself up. It had seemed like a good idea last night when she was crying in the shower. In daylight, it seemed more like the potential of a good idea. The notion of a potential of a good idea. No, she was doing this.
As she rang the doorbell to the Argent house, she prayed whoever answered would be one who at least tolerated her presence. Chris Argent opened the door with a mildly amused frown and she could breathe again.
"Joe," he said evenly and opened the door fully. He leaned against the door frame with crossed arms. "I wasn't expecting to see you here again."
"Yeah, uhm, yeah," Joe said lamely, as she had not expected to ever set foot onto this doorstep again. Before she lost her nerve, she blurted out: "Do you have, uh, the equivalent of pepper spray that's effective against...uh, y'know. Like, something that won't hurt..."
She tried to not shift or cower as he raised his eyebrow at her. A few seconds followed and she prepared to flee the scene, but he nodded slowly. "I might have just what you need. Follow me."
Instead of the kitchen, he had her follow him to a set of stairs leading to a downstairs garage. Downstairs. Joe took a deep breath — she knew she passed several traffic cameras on her way here. If she disappeared, no amount of crooked police would help them when her father would come looking. Nothing in Chris indicated hostility anymore either. He flipped a light switch and Joe let out a low whistle at all the hardware on the display along with their business logo. The obvious firearms were locked up in mesh cabinets. She wondered what they kept hidden in the actual weaponry, she could see the door and an electric passcode lock.
"This," Chris Argent handed her a canister that looked exactly like pepper spray, "will slow down a lycanthrope, but not harm it. Highly dilluted wolfsbane extract. That's what you were after, right?"
Joe nodded and accepted the canister. He probably thought she wanted some protection from Scott. At least she hoped he did not know about Derek. That whatever pain she inflicted on Derek would come back to her and why tasing him was a bad idea. She needed something else. When Scott finally made it home last night, he explained that he and Allison had seen something at the Lahey house. A creature with a tail, not a werewolf, but something similar according to him.
Derek needed a pack and he was working overtime building it. Professor Kane's story about the werewolf-army backfiring when some who were bitten turned into something 'unexpected' made Joe confident that Derek did not have his uncle's nose when picking his subjects. If Derek got stronger the more people he turned, she needed protection.
Chris turned back to rummage in a cabinet, talking over his back.
"If you want something to stun it, temporarily, we also got high-grade taser wands and even dart guns."
She barely heard him, as her gaze fell upon a familiar looking shotgun lying on a stainless steel bench. Kate's shotgun. The one Joe used to shoot Peter. The one Jimmy used to shoot at her.
Chris Argent noticed he'd lost his audience and turned with a wry smile. He cut in front of her dazed look and held up the shotgun for display. "Ah, the FX4. 4+1 round capacity, adjustable sights and tactical pistol grip. Chrome lined barrel and semi-auto gas system. Kate's favorite firearm." He shifted his grip and offered her the stock, barrel pointing downwards. "If you want it, it's yours."
Her fingers flexed, but she forced her arm down. "Look, Mr. Argent..."
"That sounds like my dad. Call me Chris."
"Chris," she corrected and grimaced. "I don't know if you're still in grief and projecting your dead sister onto me, or whatever, but I need to get something straight. I didn't save Kate because she deserved it. I tried to save her because she didn't. I'm really sorry for your loss, but..."
Chris sighed and flipped the shotgun to rest over his shoulder, a stance Kate had assumed once or twice as well. "My sister was a lot of things. More things than I was willing to admit, I've come to realize. But she was also a Grade A weapon's expert. When I said this was her favorite, it means it's probably the best piece of hardware you can find in the country." He waited for Joe to digest and proffered the syntethic stock towards her again. "The offer still stands."
"I need a purchase record," Joe mumbled and accepted the shotgun, vivid memories from the night before still fresh in mind. "I already have a permit."
"Luckily for you, Argent Arms is registered as a licensed dealer," Chris said with a satisfied smile. He went over to another desk and grabbed some registration forms, filling them out to comply with California gun laws. She needed to keep it well hidden from Aunt Mel.
The familiar weapon felt nice and heavy in her hand. She kept the barrel pointing downwards as she gauged Chris' body language. Would he give away his sister's favorite weapon if she was still alive? Could she have been extracted by someone else without his knowledge? Joe wondered if the power dynamics had shifted internally within the Argents after the arrival of Gerard.
Speak of the devil...Both Joe and Chris turned to the stairs as the older man came down them. Looks like a grandpa, walks like a grandpa, cuts werewolves in half with a sword during night time. The strength required to pull something like that of did not match with the man's physique, no matter how spry he seemed.
"Miss McCall, was it?" he said with a friendly smile, seeming to not notice how Joe tried to retreat into the wall.
"Delgado," Chris corrected him. He'd stopped writing at the arrival of his father.
"Right, right, I'm sorry," Gerard Argent said with his raspy voice. He smiled, but his eyes were dead. "Memory's not what it used to be. Do you mind if I call you Joe? It's such a distinct name for a woman that that I remember."
She had never introduced herself as Joe to him, but she still nodded. Chris must have told him or referred to her as that at some point.
"Kate told me about you, you know," Gerard said and seemingly missed the panicked expression on her face. When and what had she told him? About Derek? Not likely, but not impossible. Several hours had passed from when Kate ran out of the dungeon until she showed back up with Allison in tow. Phones existed. Gerard kept smiling in that grandfatherly fashion. "You two were friends?"
There was something in his eyes that made Joe shake her head almost imperceptibly. He knew what he was asking. He knew what had happened. If Kate had told him about her, he knew there were plenty of words better equipped than 'friends'. She was not going to lie to him, a father in mourning or not. For some reason, her reaction made him smile even wider. Predatorial, Joe thought, more so than the actual werewolves.
Turning towards Chris, Gerard exclaimed: "Ah, you're here on business! Feeling unsafe on those car trips at night?"
How could he know? How could he know? Joe nodded and said something unintelligible. The shotgun, both empty and unloaded, gave some sense of security in her hands.
"The FX4," Gerard said with another cold smile. "Good choice. Kate's favorite."
"Thanks," Joe mumbled and wished Chris would hurry up. She met Chris' eyes behind Gerard's back and he gave her a small shrug as if to apologize.
"This copy's yours," Chris finally said and came over with one of the sheets. "The other's I'll file right with the PD."
Tight smile and Joe wondered if he was going to send them with the deputy from last night. Beacon Post had not published anything about what happened, other than a false fire alarm at the station. It could be the police wanted to cover it up, keep it indoors, or the deputy — fake or real — had talked himself out of it. No mention of Isaac's arrest either, but that might be because he's a minor.
"You stay safe now," Gerard called after her as she hurried back upstairs and out the front door. She thought she heard a wheezing laugh as well.
Psychos. This had been a bad idea. What had she expected? That she would see Kate's high-heeled boots in the hallway or hear her throaty laugh from somewhere in the house? Idiot. Kate was dead and buried. And now she had her weapon of choice. Joe stuffed the werewolf pepper spray into her back pocket and tried to carry the shotgun like she knew what she was doing. It fit under her car seat, but she would have some trouble explaining it if she got pulled over.
Something thumped against her car window and Joe suppressed a scream. Half-expecting to see Derek, as he usually was the one jumping out of thin air, it was Chris instead.
"Forgot ammo," he said, his voice muffled through the car window. She rolled it down and he put two cartons into her hands. "It's a 20-gauge. These are on the house!"
"T-thanks," she said and he winked at her, much like Kate, before retreating back in his driveway. Gerard claimed they were indebted to her at the funeral, so why did she feel like she just sold her soul to the Devil?
Driving back, her brain alerted her of a familiar scent. She turned, almost preparing to see Derek lurking in her backseat. Her eyes fell on his jacket instead, left there after last night. It was literally one of the few pieces of clothing he seemed to own, so he probably wanted it back. An easy feat as the only way of contacting him was waiting for him to show up out of the blue again. She still couldn't believe Stiles had his phone number and not her. Not that she wanted it.
At least the jacket proved useful in concealing the shotgun when she smuggled it inside the house. Aunt Mel would throw a fit if she saw it. She left the boxes of ammo in the car, they were nondescript enough to avoid detection. In the room, she laid the shotgun and the jacket on her bed, next to the note Derek found in her car.
Kate, Derek and Jimmy. Talk about symbolism.
No matter how hard she stared at the note, she could not deny it being Jimmy's handwriting. It meant he was out there, keeping tabs on her and specifically telling her to stay away. She wondered if the visit to his parents' house triggered the sabotage.
Still, he of all people had to know how dangerous a full moon could be. Was she getting too close and he wanted to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt her? Or did he intend for her to get stranded in the middle of nowhere during the full moon? Derek sprinting out full-speed to pick her up was a pure coincidence...
Her computer gave of a happy beep of a new e-mail notification. It turned out to be from Kelly, reminding everyone of their reunion dinner coming up and if anyone needed help to find accomodation.
Joe groaned and fell back on her bed, refusing to acknowledge anything. After a while, she got up to stuff Derek's jacket into a plastic bag, the lingering smell driving her crazy. She plopped back down and stared at the ceiling. Did she really need a PhD? The rational answer was no, a Master's was more than enough, but the correct answer was yes. Ever since Professor Kane took her aside when she was finishing her first degree in half time, she'd fantasized about working at the university. She could not see herself doing anything else.
Okay, that's a lie, her mind treacherously announced. She could see herself doing something else and that's why she wanted to make the switch to criminology. Professor Kane called it law enforcement. Thief catching. Puh-lease werk. Like her dad.
God, she was being so stupid lately. She flopped over on her stomach and tried to get comfortable. Failed. Thrashed around and finally gave up and trudged to the computer. She opened the second draft of her paper, and then copied the text into a new document she kept side by side. Work. Come on, brain, do your thing. Instead of looking at the general population's response to the Beacon Hills-murders, she should look on the criminology-side. That meant both sides of the law.
Ten minutes later and she still stared at the words, willing them to make sense. She needed a new angle. Related to the murders, but not the murderer. Ugh, she missed Jimmy. She missed pitching theories with him. She missed how he saw the same connections she did.
"Joe?" Aunt Mel's voice came from downstairs and Joe rolled her eyes, as if her aunt had interrupted anything. "Joe, you might wanna come down here."
"I'm working!" she yelled back, the blinking text cursor mocking her lie.
"Joe, I'm serious! Get - down - here!"
And we're back! Thank you for your patience :) I never thought it'd take them a week to fix this bug, but thank God they did, huh?
Unfortunately, this isn't my best chapter. I've rewritten it so many times now and the flow is still sort of meh, which sort of happens when the scenes are too similar to what happens on the show and I try to not do just a play-by-play. I'll compensate by posting a new chapter tomorrow or the day after (depending on the number of reviews ;) Just kidding... Or am I?)
THANK YOU for the footwear-discussion! So much fun and all of you have valid points. Practicality vs. style and so on. If I hadn't had a screenshot of Derek wearing dress shoes in the first episode of season 3, I wouldn't have considered it a valid choice and now I'm really wondering what he was up to before he was busting Isaac out of the hospital.
Also thank you to akagami hime chan for your reviews, some of them really cracked me up! The vine-one especially :D