Chapter 48: The Father III

"So, uh, you used to like girls, right?"

Everything about Isaac's stature indicated he was trying to make himself smaller. Not like Derek that first time she met him, where he tried to shrink so she would not be intimidated. Isaac tried to take up as little space as possible, as to avoid being noticed at all. Head ducked down, shoulders slumped, hands hugging himself.

They were on the porch of the Hale house, where Joe sat (impatiently) waiting for the pair of Hales to read through a large collection of records kept by their family. When Scott got a text about how Stiles was back, Joe could breathe a little easier. She hoped it meant that Erica and Boyd were safe too, but Joe's phone remained silent and Erica's phone remained disconnected.

Joe raised her eyebrows at Isaac, wondering where this was coming from. He'd sort of hung around when she got out of the house, too hot to be indoors, in the extent that the burnt ruins of a house qualified as indoors, and the cold night air was just barely helping. She had thought it was by order of Derek, to make sure she didn't steal a car and try to barge into the Argents' house by herself, but it looked like he was there by his own volition.

"I saw you at the rave," Isaac explained slowly, gaze flickering between her and the door. "With the girl..." When Joe did not say anything, he cleared his throat a bit awkwardly. "She was your ex-girlfriend, right? So you used to like girls?"

"I still like girls," Joe found herself saying.

That made Isaac bob his head in confusion. He almost turned his whole body to the door, indicating the direction of the others. "What about Derek?" Isaac must have realized why she hesistated to answer. "They, uh, probably won't hear us. It's hard to keep track of several conversations at a time. You're constantly filtering out what you want to focus on."

"Oh," said Joe. That was actually kind of nice to know. In regards to his question, she decided to just shrug. "I like guys too."

Isaac, standing on the steps, did not seem able to hold still. His brows pulled together, confused and above all, innocent. "How does that work?"

Oh boy. Joe made a humming sound as she exhaled. "How it works? Isaac, do I need to ask Derek to have The Talk with you?" His eyes widened and she felt bad for suggesting it when he shook his head vehemently. She had tried to make him embarrassed, not mortified. "Relax, just a joke."

"Right," he said and kept standing there on the steps where she sat. He swallowed and look out into the dark forest, obviously still antsy to ask her something. Joe sighed a bit, she was not cut out for this kind of conversation.

"Isaac, do you..." she trailed off, letting him fill in the blanks and he shook his head.

"No, I like girls," he insisted and nodded, almost to himself. His fingertips tapped on his folded arms, not crossed in anger, but for self-protection. Joe shrugged, as if to say 'cool' and let it be at that. She did not have to wait long before Isaac swallowed and looked down at his feet. "But, uh...if I see an attractive guy, I kind of, uh, notice that he's attractive."

He let the night swallow up his voice and kept quiet. Aw man, how did she end up here when she had set out to rescue Erica from the claws of the Argents? How had she ended up here when all she had tried was to finish her stupid PhD so she could get a real job at the university and move out of Aunt Mel's house?

"Okay," Joe said slowly, trying to think of anything worthwhile to say. This was not her forte. "Is that...confusing to you?"

Isaac shrugged, unable to look at her, obviously having half an ear on whatever was going on indoors. She doubted he wanted all of them to hear this. If he had been bold enough to bring it up to her, now of all times, it was probably something that weighed on his mind.

"Just..." Joe grimaced — she really wasn't good at this!

"Look, everything is confusing in high school when it comes to stuff like this, okay? Just know that no matter what you're feeling or thinking, it's probably completely normal. It's..." She struggled to find a phrase she liked. "I'm not a big fan of labels, but I guess I would call myself bisexual, if I had to. Or pan, but I never really got the difference. It means that I'm attracted to people regardless of their gender or even lack of a gender." She grimaced again at her own explanation.

"I just like people," Joe said in the end, knowing she was not making much sense. "And you might find that you do too, and that's fine." She rubbed her forehead, unable to not consider the strange situation. "Or you find that you like one gender more than the other, and that's fine too. In the end I guess it's more about the person you like rather than anything else? Listen, I'm really not the best at this, but if you want to talk about it at some point, y'know, later when we're not trying to save the day or whatever — I guess I can be there for you?"

Ending it on a high note, a question, as much to herself as to him. Isaac glanced up at her from beneath a curly fringe, again standing several feet over her, and he gave her an uncertain nod. Camden Lahey, she remembered, would have been around her age. And now all Isaac had was Derek, who was probably the only one worse at these kinds of things than her.

Joe nodded in return. "Don't worry about labeling it or anything else. Just do what makes you happy and don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable, whether it's with girls, or boys or yourself."

"Like how you're uncomfortable right now?" He risked a half-grin and Joe laughed.

"Yes, are you kidding me?" She stiffled more laughter, knowing it could attract attention, and stretched out her legs. "Not the conversation I thought I was having tonight."

"Sorry," Isaac apologized almost too quickly. "You're just the first person I've-"

"It's okay, it really is," Joe insisted to calm him a bit. "I just worry about saying something wrong. Your brains aren't fully developed yet! I don't wanna get a bill for all the therapy you'll need if I start giving you life lectures that I barely figured out myself."

He had looked insulted at the brain-comment, but now he looked up instead at the front door.

Isaac gestured at her to get up and follow him inside, where Scott was on the phone with Aunt Mel, judging by his side of the converation.

"Hey, Mom, I can't talk right now," he said, pacing near the stairs where Derek, Peter and Jimmy were hunched over a Macbook. Totally ruining some of that old-school mysticism.

Joe gave Scott a quizzical look, but he was too focused on whatever Aunt Mel said. When he asked what was wrong, Joe demanded the phone, but he shook his head 'no'. Seconds later, he hung up and announced to the room at large: "Mom says there's something going on with Jackson's body. I should go."

She opened her mouth to announce she would go with him, but bit the words back. Jackson's body seemed trivial compared to finding Erica and Boyd. "Did you call Stiles?"

"Yeah, like seventeen times," Scott muttered and threw the hand with his phone in around. "Not picking up."

"Then we can't assume that Erica and Boyd are okay yet," Joe said and messed up her curls, again, trying to think! She became aware of Derek's eyes on her and turned around to face him. "How's that 'figuring out' going?"

"There is a lot of material to go through," Peter answered, as he was the one on the laptop. "Scott should go see the body. Might be yet another clue."

"We don't need clues, we need to find where they were keeping Erica and Boyd." Joe could not stand still, constantly shifting or making sure her gun was in place. She had the shotgun on her back with the strap running diagonally over her torso. "Scott, can you try him again, please?"

He did, but it produced nothing. Isaac volunteered to go with him to the hospital to see Jackson's body, but they promised they would update them immediately if there were any news.

"Scott," Joe said when he was halfway out the door. She knew her eyes looked the same as his big brown ones, alert and ready. "Be careful, okay?"

He would, telling her the same.

Joe paced while the others worked on the Hale-version of the bestiary. Erica and Boyd had thought they found another pack in the Preserve. Presuming that is where they ran into the Argents, where would the Argents take them afterwards? She bit her lip in thought and hardly noticed Derek watching her with some confusion.

"Anyone got a map?"

Not everything was destroyed in the fire, apparently, as Derek produced a large town map that was dated, but still useful. He crossed his arms after spreading it on the part of the floor with the least amount of damage. Joe used her shotgun to hold the map down and then rocks to mark out spots.

"I checked the real-estate linked to the Argents, either directly or through their dummy-corps when I first suspected they'd faked Kate's death," Joe said and gestured to the map where each rock represented something in the Argents' portfolio. If only she had focused on that instead of the kanima. "If we assume they were caught in the Preserve," she indicated the large wooden area, "they would probably not bother dragging them through town to get to any of these locations."

Just the feeling of doing something made her relax slightly.

"And their weapon of choice seems to be electricity," she continued and marked out even more spots, "so they would need somewhere connected to the grid."

"The right current keeps us from shifting," Derek explained above her. "That's why they use it. Higher amps, and we stop healing, even more, and we lose our strength."

"That sounds like a fun experiment to figure out." Joe shuddered at the thought, memory going back to the dungeon just beneath their feet, where Kate had Derek hooked up to the device. It explained why he had not been able to tear off the shackles right away, not until he had been disconnected and recovered long enough. "Okay, so — right side of town, secluded and connected to the grid."

"Still five locations," Jimmy pointed out, like Joe couldn't count herself. "Too far apart to check out all of them, and either could be guarded and alert the next of our arrival." Jimmy made a small contemplative sound. "The amount of electricity needed could affect the grid provision. We could check the utility log, if they had any complaints."

Joe looked up at him, newfound hope in her voice. "If you can hack their service, my laptop's in the car."

"Give me fifteen minutes," Jimmy said and disappeared out the door.

That left her and Derek alone, if you didn't include the muttering Peter Hale who still tried to skim through all the texts looking for 'clues' about the kanima. He seemed helpful, like he wanted to help them, and she still could not bring herself to believe an inch of it. So focused on glaring at him, she missed that Derek had stepped closer when she got up from the floor and almost jumped when he brushed away a few sweaty locks of her hair.

"You're burning up," he murmured and she knew he was right. The black sweater Jimmy had her put on before they left the house clung to her skin like plastic wrap and she wished she had taken the time to tie her hair up as well. "You okay?"

"I don't know if it's the meds or going off them that's the problem," Joe muttered as she checked the time. As Scott had been so adamant that she should take her meds, she had brought the pill bottle along. "Only twenty minutes overdue."

"Could be your healing that's speeding through withdrawal." This time she didn't flinch when he put his palm against the side of her neck. Apart from how she usually tingled when touching him, nothing happened. "You're not in any pain."

There was something by his tone that indicated he wanted to say more, but didn't.

Joe had taken the bottle out of her back pocket, but her stomach churned just by looking at it. Besides she was well aware of how she had acted so far tonight and maybe a clear head would make things a bit easier? Stuffing it back, she mumbled mostly to herself: "Done with pills now anyway."

Again Derek gave off the impression that he wanted to say something — it was hard to tell if it was something in his eyes or just a general sense of words unspoken.

Apparently Peter agreed with her, as he called over his shoulder: "Please, don't hold back on my account."

They both turned to glare at his back, but he kept scrolling on the Macbook none the wiser.

"You're masking your scent pretty well there, Derek, but I got a better nose than even you, remember?" Something seemed to occur to him and he turned slightly in his chair to fix Derek with a curious smile. "Unless, of course, you need help expressing yourself as well?"

If only looks could kill, Joe thought in fascination as Derek glowered at his uncle. Peter had turned back to the computer with just the remnants of a smirk visible.

Grinding his teeth together, Derek tilted his head to the side at Joe. "Come on."

He led her out on the porch again, out in fresh air and away from Peter's prying ears. She had to assume he could still hear them, but maybe Derek knew something she didn't. Well, he definitely knew a lot she didn't, but about why he seemed to relax slightly just from being out of sight from his werewolf-brethren. Could he 'mask' — whatever the hell that actually meant — sound as well? Or was he banking on some common werewolf-courtesy of not listening in on private conversations through walls?

Derek sighed as she sat on the bannister, leaning back and already knowing what he was going to say.

"I'm not going home," she said first, to get ahead of him. "You would have to physically subdue me."

"Don't think I haven't considered it," Derek said darkly and stood in front of her with crossed arms. "I have tried absolutely everything I can think of to keep you safe, Joe. Keeping you in the dark, near stalking you, scaring you away, paralyzing you — nothing seems to work. The one time I thought I got you to stay home, you ended up going up into the Preserve at the night of the full moon to be captured by an already dead sociopathic bitch."

"To be fair though, full moon didn't really make a difference."

"Joe, I..." Derek said, at loss for words as he put his hands on either side of her at the bannister and leaned a bit forwards. His scent, although dormant, came back into her system, little by little. His bright eyes were open and honest, less than ten inches from hers. "I don't know what to do with you."

"Don't do anything," Joe suggested. "Come with me, let's rescue the rest of the pack, shoot an Argent or two." She relented a bit at his rolling eyes. "Okay, last part's maybe the drugs talking, but the point still stands."

Derek shook his head, not to her words, but just to the world in general. "I have to stop Jackson. If Melissa's right, if he's not dead, I have to stop him." Like the decision pained him, he put his eyes on her again, looking at her as if she would disintegrate in front of him. "Gerard is after me. If I'm taking out Jackson, Gerard will be coming here. You and Jimmy can use the distraction to get Erica and Boyd out."

At least he was willing to let her help, but it did not feel right. "I don't think we should split up."

There was that same curious expression on his face from the backyard. Slowly, he leaned forward a bit more, and just when she thought her lungs would implode for the breath she held, he only put his nose into the crown of her head. A strangely intimate gesture nevertheless. After how they had ended both their last private conversations, it was more than she was prepared for and she froze completely even as she started breathing again.

Almost afraid of scaring him away, she whispered: "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you're still there." His words were muffled, but she could see his chest expand as he inhaled through his nose.

As he did not seem inclined to offer any other explanation, Joe stayed completely still. "Oh. Am I?"

"Yeah."

She had no idea if this was a werewolf-thing, a Derek-under-stress-thing or any kind of thing, but it felt good to smell him again. A lot of things could go wrong tonight and this felt right, so why fight it?

"Separating us is more than physically, Joe." When he talked, the words seemed to travel from the crown of her head into her brain instead of through the ears. She became uncomfortably aware of her own heartbeat as well as his. Strands of hair shifted under his mouth as he asked: "Do you trust me?"

"I want to," she said, voice tight and thin. The defeat in his sigh made her squirm. "I really do, but you keep hiding things from me, Derek. Or we keep hiding things from each other and it's exhausting."

She inhaled deeply, wanting to fill her system with his scent.

"I don't trust you because you don't trust me. You don't trust Scott, you don't trust Jimmy and you certainly don't trust Peter." He huffed into her hair. "Face it, you got major trust issues and it's no wonder you do, I mean..." He seemed to stiffen above her, even if she only saw straight into his chest. Not wanting to bring it up, but knowing she had to in case something happened to either of them tonight, she tried to keep her voice soft. "What Kate did to you, Derek, was horrible. Not just the physical aspect of it, she exploited you in such a way that I can't even-"

She couldn't even talk about it. No words, no metaphor, no description would do it justice.

Her hands worked on their own and she touched his where they gripped the bannister around her, claws digging into the old wood. Her body might be burning up, but he was always on fire, always hot to the touch. Keeping her brushes light, as if to counteract the heavy topic, she let her fingertips just flutter over the back of his defined hands.

"If you never want to talk about it, that's fine," she said, meaning every word and hoping he picked up on it. "If you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen." She closed her eyes, as if his anger translated through his skin into her fingers. Joe wanted to lean into him, embrace him, hug him, but was not sure if she could without scaring him off. He had remained completely still, only his breath revealing he was alive. "I would sincerely recommend seeing someone about it. Afterwards, when things are quiet."

Finally he spoke, although his words were harsh. "I don't need to get my head analyzed by some-"

"Derek, therapy is not someone trying to figure out what's wrong with you. It's someone without any agenda beyond trying to help you. It helped me. Probably saved my life."

His hands flexed under her, veins protruding from his grip, and she drew his scent deep within her lungs. At this proximity at least, she felt the bond just like before. It was a strange comfort — it was strange it even was a comfort — but she'd take it.

"When I moved to Beacon Hills," Joe started and had to take another breath to become strong enough to continue, "my insomnia was so out of hand that Aunt Mel only let me move in on the condition I saw a therapist for it. And after maybe six months, I felt like I could breathe again for the first time in six years."

As he said nothing, but kept his head on top of hers, she kept going. "It's hard to tell sometimes, but I have an obsessive personality. When I get something in my head, it stays there like that until something massive is able to shift it." That earned her a snort that pushed through the hair on her head. Her lips pulled in a slight smile, one that fell immediately. "And since I was maybe seven years old, I've been obsessed with finding my mom. It's been defining my life ever since we did this project in second grade on making a family tree and I realized it wasn't normal to have one half completely blank."

Derek still remained quiet, but she felt his reassuring breath against her temples everytime he exhaled. She wanted to tell him the whole story, starting with how it had always been her and Dad and how he used to mention her mom almost every day. Little comments on how she reminded him of her, same expressions, same mouth and same temper. Then when she started asking why there were no pictures of her mom, no grandparents on that side, not even a name to attach to the title, everything had changed for the worse. It was not the time though and she found herself hoping they — she and Derek — would get the time, later.

"It landed me in juvie, messed up my relationship with my dad, ruined things with Alex," Joe said, thinking on how it had literally defined her whole life. "It was the real reason I took such a heavy courseload my first years, because I wanted to get into med school as fast as possible. Not because I wanted to become a doctor, because I wanted access to hospital records, equipment to analyse my own DNA, a lot of delusional stuff. I was still looking for her using the more conventional methods at the same time, working on the side and then I almost stopped sleeping completely to the point where I started, as you know, hallucinating. It was bad, believe me."

He seemed to radiate heat in stark contrast to the cool air and she found herself comforted just by his presence alone.

"And my very lovely therapist made me realize a lot of things, starting with how I was never deprived anything in my childhood." Joe blinked away tears, it had taken a few months of sessions to get to that point. "Dad was a kick-ass single parent, but when I found out he had been lying to me for so long about what happened to my mom, I developed this obsession, this idea of what things were supposed to be like if I only did this and found out that and so on."

She laughed a bit. "This is turning into the longest explanation ever, but the point is, that I am still sort of obsessive and I know I got issues with insomnia, but you gotta believe me, it used to be so much worse." Joe tilted her head, nudging him off hers so she could look up at him. "Therapy made me realize I didn't need her, never had. I stopped looking for her a few years ago and, like I said, now I can breathe."

Seeing his bright eyes focused on her made her let out a short embarrassed breath as she looked down again. "Sorry, that got a little heavier than I intended..."

"It's okay," Derek mumbled, lips just barely brushing against her forehead and she swallowed heavily from that sensation alone. "I'm glad you told me."

"Yeah," she said in lack of better things and looked down on their hands again, liking the contrast of skin colors, accentuated by the dark. "Timing sucks, but a secret for a secret. It's only fair."

"Yeah," Derek said absentmindedly and she felt him push his nose further into her curls, inhaling, taking her in and she felt her own heartbeat flutter in response. "Joe, the last time I tried to talk to someone..."

She cringed, having momentarily forgotten that fun-fact. "I know. God, I know, I'm so sorry, Kate told me when she-" Joe broke off, feeling how his hands flexed under hers again and grimaced. "We can do a really extensive background check?"

A snort rippled through her curls again, but at least it was better than the self-deprecating silence. Joe sighed, knowing they did not have long now before things started happening again. Wouldn't it be nice to have some time together just existing and not reacting to anything else than each other?

"Just, promise me you'll at least think about it," Joe said softly and tilted her head again, so she could look at him, with his bright eyes and dark stubble. The words remained unsaid, but she still thought them: For me?

Although his proximity had been evident this entire time, she became acutely aware of how close he was now. It felt so normal to have him close, to touch him like this, to have him lean onto her head. He was so tactile, at least compared to her, and she wondered if all werewolves were. Nothing felt more natural right now than to have Derek close to her while they talked.

"I'll think about it," Derek said and Joe claimed it as a tentative victory.

They would have to survive the night first, but that seemed irrelevant compared to how his skin felt under her fingertips and how his breath fanned across her face. If she leaned back a bit further like this, and if he leaned in a little more like that, they would be so close that their lips could touch and now they were almost that close and-

The only warning was a loud snap of cracking wood.

The bannister gave away from under her and she felt the rush in her stomach of sudden movement, like jumping off the swings at the park when she was younger, temporarily weightless. Instead of her back meeting the ground, it met Derek's hands who moved faster than gravity to grab her. The broken pieces of construction fell to the grass beneath them in her place.

Feet and body tilted out from the porch, she relied solely on Derek to keep her up, hands gripping his strong arms for support. Like a pair of dancing partners, stuck in a low dip. Their eyes met and Joe burst out laughing.

"Rotten wood," she said through a smile brought on from the near-accident. Anything to distract from her still hard-beating heart. A lot of her body was pressed flush against him.

"Yeah," Derek agreed with a slight smile of his own and swung her around so she could stand by herself on the porch. He let her go and ran a hand through his hair, causing the carefully arranged spikes to shift. "You okay?"

She nodded when she found her feet. Derek's eyebrows were raised, even if he was not looking at her, as if his mind was still stuck someplace else. He took a deep breath, where she noted the expansion in his chest, how it made his broad shoulders broader.

"We should get back inside. Peter's bound to start plotting if he's left alone too long."

"You really don't like your uncle, huh?"

"No, not at all."

Apparently, Jackson's body had developed its own cocoon of kanima-venom and it had started to move. A lot of indicators he might not be dead after all.

Joe relayed the information to Jimmy after Scott texted her. They were enroute to the house that looked most promising based on what Jimmy could find — major spikes in the electrical current the last few hours. It also had another interesting aspect; the house was under construction, but some of the drawings indicated a larger subterranean space, like a basement.

Argents liked to tie up people underground and subject them to electrical torture.

Joe did not know whether she should be worried or proud that Derek actually let her go. Not that she was in the need of his permission to do anything, but it made her feel somewhat less guilty when he had told her to be careful and not get caught instead of arguing about locking her up somewhere nothing could find her. Either this was character growth on his side or he had so resolutely given up on her. It could help that Jimmy seemed dedicated to having her back and whatever signals he gave off to Derek, they were at least civil.

Shared trauma, Joe mused. She had been joking about the Kate Argent Victim Support Group, but maybe it wasn't such a bad idea? They could set up regular meetings after that bitch was either put in cuffs or in the ground for good.

"You ready for this?" Jimmy asked when they parked the car a long way off from the house itself. Instead of answering, Joe brought out her nightvision-binoculars and did a perimeter sweep of the area. "Hey, G.I. Jane, are you ready?"

"No, not really," Joe murmured and put the binoculars down as the area looked clear. "I just keep seeing her face, you know, everywhere I look. And I feel helpless, tied up, even though I'm not."

Jimmy looked sullen, like something weighed on his mind. Considering their rocky past, that was not a comforting thought and Joe waited patiently for him to voice his concerns. "I...bit Kate Argent."

"Yeah? I know, I was there." She tried to breathe, even if the suspicion that her worst nightmares were coming true crept in. "But you're not an Alpha. Right?"

"I'm not quite sure how she will react to the bite," Jimmy continued, staring at the interior of her car while Joe gripped the binoculars so her knuckles turned white. "What Peter said earlier holds at least partially true. The pain and discipline I subjected myself through the last few months was with a specific goal in mind. To achieve independence and avoid relying on someone else for both power and survival."

"What does that mean?"

"In short, I'm a werewolf, but not an Alpha, Beta or Omega."

"Are you a Gamma? Sigma? Theta? There's twenty-four letters in the Greek Alphabet, I can keep guessing." Something dawned on her as she recalled the color-coding. "Your eyes were blue when you came to lurk in my backyard the first time. Now they're purple, because that's halfway between blue and red, right? You're...part Alpha?" She scrunched up her nose. "A Delta?"

It was starting to sound like Jimmy was in a fraternity.

"Part Alpha is a correct, if inconclusive statement," he said, sounding very much like his arch-nemesis Professor Kane. "The technical term, as far as the translations go, is Demi Alpha."

"Not to be confused with adored singer and songwriter Demi Lovato," Joe quipped and shrank under his tired gaze. "So you're Half-Alpha?" Joe grimaced, because it made him sound like a kind of sprouts. "Like, not quite an Alpha, not quite a Beta?" She couldn't help herself. "An Alpha-Beta? Sorry. I'll stop."

He had sent her a downright venomous look. "I am only telling you this so you don't have to hear it from Peter Hale or have him hold it over your head at a later occasion. And also to prepare you for that Kate Argent might not be fully human when we face her again."

"If she's bit and suspecting she'll turn, won't she follow the Code?"

They both considered Joe's question in silence. When had Kate Argent ever seemed dedicated to following the Code? And yet, the alternative would mean a shapeshifting Kate with enhanced strength and speed. Relatively insane, based on how she acted up in the woods.

"If the Bite took," Jimmy said slowly, staring straight at the dashboard, "she would still be in a weakened state. Her age would mean a longer convalescence. Not physically, but mentally. Disoriented, dizzy, confused. "

"Healing? Super strength?"

He took some time before admitting. "Yes." At Joe's groan, he elaborated a bit: "It's not an exact science," he ignored her second groan, "but say it is a fifty percent chance my Bite was received as an Alpha." Jimmy had a knack of inserting capitalized words even in his speech. "Then another generous estimate gives a fifty percent chance she would turn and fifty it would kill her."

"Still not liking those odds," Joe murmured, even if it meant a quarter chance she was already dead. Most likely, just injured and a quarter chance she was now superwoman. "Do you...do you think we can take her down without killing her? And even if we get her arrested, do you think that'll be enough?"

It had weighed on her mind since the day following her near-death at the Hale house. Joe's father laid it out — interrogation, investigation, trial and conviction. Either way, it would take years for Kate Argent to face justice and half the people involved would not even testify against her. The werewolf-thing added so much uncertainty that some evidence would not make sense. Her death had been convenient. Maybe why the Argents chose to fake it, it was easier for them too.

"I think," Jimmy said as he got ready to get out, "that if you get her in your sights, you should take the shot."

"Yeah. I get that." Joe made sure the pistol was loaded before exiting the car. "Remember, we're here on a rescue-mission. Important thing is to get Erica and Boyd. No engagement unless necessary, not even if it's Kate." She noticed his lip twitch and barked out a: "What?"

"You sound like an 80s cop-show."

He ignored her middle finger as they both exited the car, closing the doors softly. Moving quietly through a forest is harder than you'd think, but they were helped by the season and the mostly wet underbrush. No crunching leaves or frozen twigs. Despite Jimmy's police-jab, Joe did as taught and rolled her feet, heel to toe, not making more noise than her tense breath. Following Jimmy's lead, who probably could see perfectly clear in the dark, they reached the house under construction and ducked down to the sight of movement.

Two cars outside the house, and three figures standing there. One of the people, a man by the looks of it, gestured to the other two. Before long, one of the cars sped off, leaving just one man and a single vehicle.

"Could be more inside," Jimmy whispered under his breath next to her. "Thick walls. Can't hear anything."

Joe nodded, not trusting her voice to speak. They watched the remaining man pace around and lean over his car — an SUV. Even from this distance, they could tell he was agitated. More pacing before he disappeared inside.

This could be their chance. Using tactical hand signals, she told Jimmy they would move in file formation, keep down and head for the side of the door to ambush the man. Jimmy only raised his eyebrows in response and she rolled her eyes before telling him the same thing in a low whisper.

Feeling way out of her depth here, she led the way in a low crouch to the house. Pistol in a double-grip, shotgun ready on her back, a dreadful pinch in her stomach that questioned if she would have the guts to pull the trigger if needed. Morphine wearing off.

They leaned against either side of the door where the man had gone through. She watched Jimmy intently as he obviously listened to something beyond her capabilities. Her heart was crawling out of her throat, overpowering anything else she could possibly hear. Jimmy' face hardened and he gave her a slight nod — someone was coming.

It took everything she had to will herself to remain hidden until the man exited and had passed them with a few steps. Gripping the gun, she rose, and the noise was enough to make the man stop.

"Hands over your head!" she barked, struggling to keep the pistol steady. Chris Argent slowly reached his hands up and put them onto his head as he turned around.

"Of everyone I expected to see here," he said without any apparent hurry in that low gravelly voice of his, "you weren't on the top of my list, I have to admit."

"Shut up!" Joe spat, finding it hard to even look at him. Trigger finger off the trigger — she had to repeat that thought over and over. Trigger finger off the trigger. "Where are they?"

Chris seemed defeated way beyond her holding him at gunpoint. He gave Jimmy's lurking form a glance, but returned his eyes to Joe. "They just left out the back."

Lying. He was lying, Joe thought, but had no way of confirming it. The adrenaline, the rush, the fear was clouding all her senses. Argents were good liars. Joe nodded her head towards Jimmy, to make him take a look inside.

"You let them go?" she asked, incredulousness seeping in, voice shaking as much as her gun did not. "Why?"

"Blurred lines," Chris almost whispered to himself.

"You answer me straight or I swear to God I will put a bullet in you," Joe spat, wanting to take a step forwards, feeling the same pull that Matt must have done, using the weapon for intimidation. She willed herself back, not gonna fall for the temptation and allow Chris to disarm her like she had done with Matt.

"No one else is here," Jimmy said as he came back out. He looked sick though and she wondered what he had found. A moment of hesitation, as if he did not want to back up Chris' words. "There is another exit, leading to the woods."

"We have a Code-"

Chris never got any further as Joe pushed the gun up higher, aiming straight for his head. "You keep saying that and yet you keep threatening to kill children! No proof they spilled human blood, right?"

His eyes closed and she saw his fingers flex, but they remained on his head. "Did Derek tell you what he did?"

"Did Victoria tell you what she did?" Joe found herself replying in an instant. "Blurred lines, right? And I don't know if your eyesight is giving into old age, but the two sixteen-year-olds you caught — the two sixteen-year-olds you hunted and trapped — aren't Derek!"

Her breath came ragged through her tight chest. Just seeing him, looking so much like her made her want to throw up.

"Did you know?"

Chris looked up at her question, not confused, but resigned.

"Did you know?" she repeated, ignoring how Jimmy put a calming hand in the air. "Answer me!"

"Not for sure, not until Stilinski called a few hours ago," Chris muttered with a curl in his lip. "They're exhuming the grave." His jaw flexed and he looked ready to kill someone, but it was not directed at her. "I did not know before."

Joe glanced over at Jimmy, who gave her a confirming nod. Chris was telling the truth. At least about that. "And Gerard?"

Just the mention of his name made Chris' face pull into a mask of contempt. His nostrils flared. "I can't be sure..."

"But you suspect-"

"I suspect there is not a damn thing happening in this town that Gerard does not know about or is actively in control of." Chris sighed as he looked at Joe. "Put the gun down, Joe."

"Fat chance."

His calm gravelly voice sent chills through her core. "Any second now, Joe, your arms are gonna start cramping. Most likely your right underarm, dominant hand clutching the grip too hard. You've locked out your elbows too, you see, and I just gotta wait for your grip to loosen."

Joe swallowed, but could not get a bend in her elbows if she tried.

"Should've spent more time at the gun range," Chris said slowly, but not unkindly. He glanced at Jimmy, who had squared up at Chris' words. "I'm gonna advise your friend here that I have a semi-automatic pistol inside my jacket and that I know what he is, so I won't waste time with a warning shot."

Losing control. She was losing control of the situation.

"So when your arms give in, Joe, I'm gonna knock the gun out of your hands. You friend here is gonna try and intervene, but instinctually, he's gonna want to protect you more than he wants to take me down. His first mistake. I'll shoot him twice with your gun, which I do notice is Kate's by the way, aiming for his head to blind him. Unfortunately, you're a fighter too, Joe, so I will have to knock you out with my elbow, before getting my own gun out to finish the job on your friend."

Joe trembled at his speech, his play-by-play of how it was going to go. She should just shoot him. She had to. Before her arms dropped on their own.

"Or," Chris said and tried to give a nod to Jimmy, who looked ready to strike by now, "you'll put the gun down, Joe, and let me help you stop Jackson and Gerard. That's the best offer you're gonna get tonight."

She could feel the strain in her arms by now. "I won't let you kill Derek."

"Believe it or not, I'm not the one you have to worry about."

I know it's early, but I was feeling festive and thought 'why not?'

Four different kinds of conversation; a little quiet before the storm that's coming. (And don't come at me for Isaac's curiosity - that dance-scene with Jackson at the rave was a little too convincing and y'know I love Isaac, so I want him and Joe to be friends)

A little mixed reception to Joe's behavior in the last chapter, but I did warn you :) I know both she and Derek are frustrating at times, but there are literal lives at stake here and I daresay both of them might think that's a bit more important than their potential relationship at the moment. Not helped by Joe's condition and Derek responding to her strong emotions brought on by her own trauma. She remembers vividly what it's like to be strung up and tortured by an Argent. Can't blame her for being a little stressed by the thought of that happening to Erica, Boyd or Stiles.

Anyway, thank you so much for the feedback all of you! As for the Guest who asked if you're gonna have some answers by the end of season, I hope you enjoyed this chapter where at least we get something :)

Please let me know what you think of this chapter too and thank you for reading as always!