Chapter 65: The Detective

You think we want to kill you? No, no. You have it backward.

"You know, this whole watching me sleep thing is not as romantic as Twilight made it out to be."

Hiding deeper under the covers, Joe only grumbled in response.

"Maybe it's because you're not a hundred years old super hot vampire," Erica mused as she flipped through the TV-channels, volume barely audible to Joe. "Or even a guy." She seemed to settle on some talk show. "All I'm saying is that it's creepy as heck."

"Sorry."

"Did you at least get any sleep?"

"Some," Joe mumbled, still with her eyes closed. Rest mattered almost as much as sleep, at least she hoped so. And if she kept her eyes closed, she didn't have to face the world with its new and exciting challenges. Derek's face from last night popped into her head and she burrowed further into the bed. "I think."

Erica made a sound of disbelief. Peering from under the covers, Joe found Erica to be looking better. Not okay, not yet, but at least better. This healing business did not seem like an exact science. On the outside, her wound looked almost completely gone, just scar tissue remaining. Based on how Erica moved though, how careful she was, it seemed like there was still some damage on the inside. It made Joe want to dissolve in guilt.

After returning from the loft — running through the rain all the way back to the apartment, very good for dramatic effect — Joe had found herself compelled to check if Erica actually was alive. Eventually, Joe had dozed off in the queen-sized bed next to her, getting fitful bouts of sleep and waking at random to check if Erica still breathed. If she was there at all.

"Are you real?"

Already pale, the mascara Jimmy had bought Erica emphasized her large eyes that turned to Joe in annoyance. "Do I look real?"

Wrong answer. Joe began to pull away as Erica realized her mistake.

"Jimmy!" she called before she latched onto Joe's arm, now healed after Derek's claws yesterday. Like all werewolves, she was hot to the touch, but never burning like Derek. "Hey, hey, sorry. Sorry. I'm real. Jimmy!" Erica refocused on Joe, now nearly hyperventilating. "Do you see me? Yeah, that's one. Do you hear me? That's two. Do you feel me? That's three-"

The door flew open as Jimmy ran inside. He paused at the foot of the bed, purple eyes wide.

Erica refused to let go of Joe. "That's three. Three senses, right? Three out of five. Majority can't be wrong, okay?"

"Okay," Joe whispered and pretended to not notice the look exchanged between Jimmy and Erica. "Okay."

"I'm here and I'm real," Erica said slowly and then nodded at Jimmy. "So is Jimmy."

"Okay," Joe said again and now Erica released her. Sitting up in bed, Joe rubbed the fatigue out of her eyes. "Okay. I'm good."

"What happened?"

"My fault. She asked if I was real and I answered with a question."

They weren't whispering, not quite, so Joe still heard them with her oh-so-human ears. Pathetic. Weak. Concerned about her. Worried about her. They had it all wrong. Backward. She was supposed to look after them.

"I'm sorry," Joe eventually said and Erica gave her an encouraging smile. Without the makeup, she looked even younger and only served to make Joe feel like a bigger failure. "Jesus Christ, I'm sor-"

"Yeah, we're not doing the whole crying and apologizing for things again," Erica cut in and turned back to the TV, folding her pillow so she could recline more than lie down. "I tried to kill you, you tried to kill me — we're even. Full moon. Shit happens." Her eyebrows rose while the moving images on the TV reflected in her large eyes. "I mean, ask Derek."

Derek. Joe should have told him the truth yesterday, but she hadn't been sure of the truth. The lack of sleep was messing with her mind. Unless Joe was actively looking at Erica, she could only remember those last moments where Erica had stopped breathing, when Joe finally saw Erica's face instead of Kate. It was safer for Erica if no one knew she was alive, but now Joe had to live with Derek's disgust instead. And anger. Hard to fathom how a person could keep on living with so much anger inside.

Maybe it would make him stronger, whereas Joe only made him weak.

Joe could feel Jimmy's eyes on her a second longer before he glanced at the room in general. He'd obviously just woken up judging by the messy hair and he grimaced at the collection of wrapping papers and empty cans on Erica's nightstand, making some offhand comment about a pigsty while he got a trash bag. Without the sunglasses, his eyes shone still. Deep-set trauma. He was still on high alert.

"You get any sleep?" Joe asked Jimmy for once and he shrugged.

When finished with the trash, he settled on top of the covers at the foot-end of the bed with one arm under his head to watch the TV. Instincts, Joe figured. Pack animals sleep together. Cuddle puddle. She snorted at the thought, earning her strange glances from both Erica and Jimmy.

The lights from Jimmy's eyes dimmed steadily the longer they laid there, watching whatever Erica deemed interesting enough to settle on for more than a minute at a time.

Everyone pretending to be normal and that things were okay. False sense of security, Joe thought, but had no idea how to handle it. They were not out of the woods just yet. But a good soldier rests when he can.

She had no idea where to go from here.

"Going after the Alpha's emissary today?" Jimmy asked as if prompted, not sounding particularly interested.

Joe sighed. She had to, sooner or later, but she did not want to move out of the bed today. "Later." A few seconds passed where she tried to figure out what was happening on the TV. "Can we order pizza?"

"No, you got messages from your aunt," Erica said as if she'd just remembered it. She handed Joe the phone. "She wants to do dinner today. And since it's three in the afternoon, you only have a few hours and you need them because you look like death."

"Don't read my texts, Erica," Joe said half-heartedly and checked the messages herself. Ugh. That meant both showering and leaving the apartment. It meant dealing with the outside world. It meant coming clean to Aunt Mel. "Ugh."

"There's also a new string of murders," Jimmy said after a while, not looking away from the TV and Joe groaned again. "Threefold deaths from what I can find out. Five victims so far. Might be something to worry about since it's coinciding with the Alpha pack."

Joe recalled the virgin sacrifices Stiles had talked about.

"Can't everything just be someone else's problem today?" Joe murmured and shifted so she could poke Jimmy with her foot. "Hey, Demi, step up to the plate here. Take your load of the problems."

He didn't even budge, so Joe turned to Erica.

"Beta," Erica said easily and changed the channel again.

"Screw both of you," Joe mumbled and untangled herself out of the bed.

As she stumbled into the bathroom, she could hear Jimmy and Erica bickering about changing the channel back again. Of all the unlikely duos in the world... After Joe and Erica rescued Jimmy on their little Alpha-organized field trip —another shudder at that memory — Erica had latched onto him like a big brother figure and he had reluctantly committed to the role, not that she gave him much choice. Out of every bad thing that had happened the last few months, at least they were all closer to each other than before.

The Alphas had made sure of that. Pack bonding. To break a bond, there had to be a bond.

A shower and some coffee made her at least look human enough to get out of the apartment. She took the Corvette, still unsure of what had happened to the Ford. Her first car; bought with her own money. Piece of junk that it was, it was hers and she missed it.

Last time she saw it had been at the diner. After the wolfsbane-bomb, she had woken up in the vault with no recollection of how she got there. It still made her queazy at the thought of the vault being in Beacon Hills this whole time. It would have been easier to accept if they had some sort of secluded hideout in the mountains instead of being a few streets over from the goddamn post office.

Whenever they transported her from the vault, which had not happened the first few weeks, they blindfolded her and put her in the back of a van. She could have been in Mexico for all she knew. And she was pretty sure she had been in Mexico at some point too.

Maybe the Emissary knew what happened with the Ford. Joe would like to get her hands on the shotgun and pistol presumably still in its trunk. Tomorrow she'd build up the nerve to confront the Emissary. Tomorrow.

When she got to the McCall house, Joe had to sit in the car a bit and regain her breath. If she understood Scott correctly, he hadn't told Aunt Mel anything. Not even the parts Joe had intended to tell herself before she left Beacon Hills, about Derek. Don't let emotions get the best of you. Considering how well it had gone with Derek, maybe she shouldn't tell Aunt Mel the truth just yet?

Listen to yourself, Joe. You're just as bad as your dad. As Derek. As everyone else who's ever lied to you. The truth is always best. Even if it breaks you? The voice came unbidden into her mind. If Dad hadn't told you the truth about your mom, you wouldn't have sought out Derek, you wouldn't have been in such a hurry to get out of town, you wouldn't have been kidnapped again, you wouldn't have-

Hyperventilating, Joe rested her head on the steering wheel. If Derek had told her the truth from the start, things would have gone differently too. If he had tried to teach her control of the pain-bond or if he hadn't tried to keep her out of everything supernatural-related all the time, things would have gone differently.

'Erica and Boyd are my Betas, Joe. Not yours.'

That's what he'd told her. Maybe he had hoped that was the truth, just like he had hoped she left town and stayed away on her own volition. Well, okay, he was sort of right about 'Death before Dishonor'-Boyd, but Erica... Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel. It wasn't Derek's fault. It wasn't anyone's fault.

A shadow fell over her from outside the car and she froze, not daring to turn. What had she been thinking? Sitting here like an easy target, ready to be picked off. They weren't out of the woods just yet. The Alphas were still out there, waiting for her, waiting for an opportunity like this. False sense of security. Shit shit shit.

"Joe?"

Scott. It felt like her soul left her body with the loud exhale. "Jesus Christ, Scott!"

"What are you doing?" His voice came muffled through the car window. He stood on the curb outside the Corvette, bending over to peer in at her. As she shook her head weakly, he bounded over to the passenger side and got in before she could protest. Like speaking to a scared animal, he kept his voice soft. "Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you."

"I'm pretty sure you were less sneaky than I was just not paying attention," Joe said, head still on the steering wheel as she turned to look at him. "'Sup?"

"I just heard your heartbeat going crazy when I passed the car," Scott explained lamely. She noticed the backpack still slung halfway over his shoulder — he must have just returned from work or school. For some reason, his eyes glanced out the windshield at the house, before he leaned in and lowered his voice. "Hey, have you talked to Derek?"

"Oh yeah." There had been too much talking for it to be healthy. A surge of panic gripped her, as her mind had temporarily suppressed yesterday's argument and the implications it brought. "H-have you?"

"No," Scott said, vanquishing her fears. "But, uh, he kicked Isaac out last night."

The sensation in Joe's chest reminded her of the first time she had felt Derek's pain — when Peter had driven his claws through Derek's lungs. Like a skeleton hand squeezing her heart. Isaac. Derek's first beta. Kicked out. It must have happened after she was there. And that was probably the reason why it happened. It was Joe's fault.

It also meant that Derek definitely knew what the Alphas wanted. For them to kill their own betas.

"Shit," she said without thinking, but it was an appropriate reaction in any way. "Oh, man. Okay. How is he? Uh, where's he staying?"

"Here. Mom put him in your old room. He's okay, but, uh, kinda upset I think. Didn't say much, just... According to him, it happened out of the blue when he got back from practice. No warning, some lame excuse about it getting crowded with Derek's sister there, and... I was kinda hoping you knew more."

Her mouth opened and shut a few times, not finding any words. It was cruel, heartless even, and Joe could not find it in her to be angry with Derek. Because he was just doing the same thing that Joe was doing with Cora. Pushing her away for her own safety. It bothered her for other reasons though, because it meant Derek did not have the same confidence in his own strength as Joe did.

And as much as it hurt, she could see Derek's reasoning for choosing Cora over Isaac. He paid attention to people; he knew Isaac had sought out Scott when Erica and Boyd ran away; he'd seen Isaac volunteer to be Scott's backup when they fought the kanima. It made sense in all the ways it didn't. Derek had probably figured he could only protect one at a time. Boyd was out of the loft, probably kept at arm's length now. Isaac had Scott, but Cora had no one.

Although she could vividly imagine Derek trying to kick Cora out and coming face to face with willpower rivaling his own.

"Maybe it's, uh, a good thing," Joe tried eventually as Scott had waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. "Means you won't be on your own in case something happens."

Scott didn't say anything, but nodded slowly as he studied her. He did not look convinced, but if it was her words or her appearance that threw him off was hard to tell. "Are you gonna tell Mom everything now?"

Everything. The truth was an ugly thing at times.

"Yes," she whispered, nodding mostly to herself. "I think so."

"Are you sure?" he asked and as Joe nodded again, he followed up with: "Tonight?"

"Why does it sound like you're trying to convince me otherwise?"

"I'm not!" Scott denied immediately, eyes wide. "I just wanted to make sure you were, uh, sure. It's just, things have been going kinda well lately. Great, actually. And she was so happy when you came back and she's already feeling bad for snapping at you in the hospital and maybe, I don't know, maybe you should take some time to deal with it before you tell her so it doesn't, I don't know, get out of hand."

Deal with it. The words cut into Joe's soul. Joe had to deal with it. Even if Scott was not as adept as Derek, he was picking up on something, that something wasn't as it should be with Joe. Probably the same reason Derek smelled tainted to Joe now. It wasn't Derek. It was her. Tainted. Broken. Weak. Pathetic.

"Yeah, maybe," Joe said and avoided Scott's eyes. "I'll think about it."

At least it wasn't hard to pretend things were normal when Aunt Mel flew up from the couch as Joe and Scott came inside the house.

"Oh my God, the hair! I love it!" Aunt Mel exclaimed after hugging her fiercely. "With the bangs too, very chic."

"Chic?"

"Just, let me try and keep up with the jargon here, Joe," Aunt Mel pleaded. She turned to Scott. "You have homework. Don't try and deny it, Isaac already confessed. Come on, upstairs. I'll call you when dinner's here."

Feigning a grudge, Scott leaned to kiss Aunt Mel on the cheek before he heeded her orders. Aunt Mel led Joe inside the kitchen, offering her any beverage of choice. Joe accepted a glass of wine, but just the one since she was driving. Although she suspected she could have had the whole bottle without getting a buzz now.

"So, I thought about cooking and then I went to the grocery store and realized I didn't want to, so we're ordering Thai from this new place that opened downtown and-"

The sound of Aunt Mel's voice talking about mundane stuff was like sinking into a warm bath after a long day in the snow. New York memories, not California ones. Joe perched on the kitchen counter while Aunt Mel talked, sipped wine, and tried to fill Joe in on all the hospital gossip that she'd missed out on when she was away.

"Listen, I'm sorry for being so short with you the other day," Aunt Mel said as she leaned on the opposite side of the kitchen, giving Joe an apologetic smile. "I'm really happy that you're back. It was just this whole thing with Isaac, and then with Jimmy," she wrung her hands together, "and I know, from those parental classes I took back in the day, that you're supposed to encourage positive behavior and not reprimand when it finally happens."

Joe took a large sip of wine to cover her nerves.

"And you're a capable and smart young woman, so as long as you're okay, I'm perfectly willing to pretend the last few months didn't happen. I just," Aunt Mel twisted her hands together again, "never want you to feel like it's a chore talking to me. Does that make sense? I'm not your parent. I'm your cool aunt who you call when your dad's being an ass, remember?"

Joe smiled and it was probably the first real, unstrained smile since she woke up in the Preserve. "I remember."

"And speaking of your dad," Aunt Mel's expression turned apprehensive, "do you know he's back in town?"

Joe gripped the wine glass so hard the stem snapped. "Shit."

"Oh, it's okay, it's okay." Aunt Mel hurried over with a new glass and took the broken one out of Joe's unresisting hands. A clean break and nothing spilled as she poured the remaining wine over. She gave Joe a lopsided smile. "I take it that's a no, huh?"

"What's he doing back?" Joe asked, while her mind buzzed with the possibilities of Scott having called him, told him what happened, told him everything. Which made no sense, because Aunt Mel didn't even know.

Aunt Mel took the broken glass to the cardboard box going with recycling. "Well, there might be a serial killer on the loose." Straightening back up, she put one hand on the hip as she looked at Joe. "Now, if you want me to back off, you say so. You know I won't pry, but I got the impression things had improved a bit between the two of you. He sounded kind of hopeful you'd call him and I guess you didn't?"

Joe shook her head again. She had wanted to. Now she did not think she would be able to face him ever again. That wasn't the worst part. If the Alphas found out he was here, he would be in danger.

And she couldn't tell Aunt Mel where she had been the last three months because then Aunt Mel would insist they tell Dad and then he'd get involved and he would die. Shit. Joe hated this. Hated it so much.

"Okay," Aunt Mel said, understanding as always, although now it was breaking Joe's heart into tiny little glass pieces digging itself into her lungs. "Okay, I'll tell him you're unavailable. So, just so you know he's in town." She was spared saying anything else as the doorbell rang. "That's gotta be the food. Can you set the table?" Aunt Mel went into the hall and shouted up the stairs. "Guys! Food's here!"

Even if she knew it was just Scott and Isaac coming down the stairs, they still made it sound like two elephants were tumbling down instead.

"Hi, Isaac," Joe said softly when his curly-haired self appeared around the corner, as his expression already tore at her insides.

"Hey," Isaac said as a greeting, hands in pocket and head bent.

The term kicked puppy came to mind and it felt more appropriate than ever. Joe tried to breathe. She could understand Derek's reasoning, but she still hated it. Isaac was probably safer here, but she hated it.

"You okay?" Joe asked when Aunt Mel returned with the food and enlisted Scott to help. It was a stupid question, she knew, but at least she asked it. At least she could give some semblance of caring.

Isaac shrugged. He did not look scared of or disgusted with her, so she guessed Derek hadn't exactly confided about Erica to him. He just looked lost. Probably with good reason, if he'd been by Derek's side so long and now removed without further explanation. No way had Derek told him why he had to push him away, not Derek's style at all. At least Cora knew why Joe tried to keep her at bay.

"Guys, come on, food's here and I'm starving," Aunt Mel urged them to get to the table and they all sat down. She handed the containers around, explaining the contents, and urged Isaac to take the first serving. "Isaac got your old room, Joe, I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Joe said and passed the rice over to Scott. "It's not my room anymore anyway." Racking her brain for conversation topics fitting for dinner, something not involving blood or mayhem, she tried: "So, uh, lacrosse?"

Scott and Isaac laughed. "It's cross-country in the fall," Scott explained and Joe shrugged. "We're going to a meet next week. Six-hour drive, but Coach made it mandatory." He turned to Isaac with an almost proud smile. "Isaac's actually our best runner."

Isaac ducked his head under with a badly concealed grin. "I'm not that, uh, fast really."

"No, he is!" Scott insisted and clapped Isaac on the shoulder. "Even before we were turned." He must have realized the attention was making Isaac nervous because he changed gears and redirected the focus. "Uh, Joe played soccer in high school."

"Oh really?" Isaac looked up, interested.

"Yeah, she taught me my first shoulder tackle," Scott continued and Joe shook her head at the memory. That was back when Scott was severely asthmatic and scrawny. Now he'd grown, both in height and muscle mass. She could still take him, she figured, after eyeing his upper body. Easy.

"I got stuck in defense because I lacked the eye-foot coordination to actually pass the ball anywhere," Joe explained, to distill some of Isaac's admiration. "I was better at getting other people to drop it."

Somehow this led to a play-by-play of the lacrosse finals game where Isaac tackled all his fellow players out of commission to get Scott out on the field. All in order to stop Jackson as the kanima. Isaac did not seem that bothered when the attention was more spread out and not all on him. Joe let them talk, still marveling at how distant all of this sounded. A different life, different Joe. Conversation flowed easily and if Aunt Mel noticed how Joe deflected all attempts to talk about the crime lab-stuff, she did not make a big deal of it.

For a while, at least, Joe could pretend things were normal. At least until Scott mentioned Allison regarding something with a motorcycle at the school yesterday.

"Wait, the Argents are back?" Joe's voice came out harsher than she'd meant. "I thought they left for France."

"No, Allison and her dad returned just before the semester started," Scott stuttered. "Sorry, I thought you knew, I sent you a- Sorry. Uh, they got an apartment downtown and I think her dad's gone back to consulting, not any of the other stuff."

Aware of Aunt Mel's watchful eye on her, Joe just nodded and tried to concentrate on the last pieces of food on her plate. With all the junk food lately, she would have to start running again to avoid getting lethargic or weak. You are weak. Joe noticed her hand trembling when she reached for her glass. Damn it.

"Uh, I need to get back," Joe said, interrupting Scott's retelling of something that happened during the summer. She got up too fast, almost taking the table cloth with her, and toppled her wine glass over. Both she and Isaac jumped at the clink, even though it didn't break, but the wine splashed across her own lap. "Shit, sorry, sorry."

"Come on." Aunt Mel darted up, near dragging Joe over to the kitchen to get a wet towel. The boys remained seated, although Isaac was looking pale and Joe would have thought more about it if she hadn't been so hung up on her own thoughts. Wine seeped through Joe's jeans and it didn't help that it was red wine, leaving a large stain across her crotch.

"Since when did you become such a klutz?" Aunt Mel joked and handed Joe the towel to dab at the rapidly spreading spot. "You're not staying for dessert? I got the good cheesecake from the store and everything." Not even listening, too focused on the roaring embarrassment, Joe just tried to salvage what she could of her pants. "Joe? Hey."

Joe looked up and saw the increasingly worried frown on Aunt Mel's face. "What?"

"You okay?" Aunt Mel could wiggle a confession out of anyone. "Did something happen?" She lowered her voice as if that prevented the two werewolves in the living room from hearing it. "Did something happen with Derek? I mean, if he kicked Isaac out I guess something happened, but are you two having trouble again? I just assumed, based on the hospital, that you had patched things up."

"It's, ah, um..." Joe realized the jeans were ruined for the time being and put the towel on the counter. "It's not gonna, uh, work out with Derek, I think."

Aunt Mel's face scrunched together. "Is this about the text?"

"What text?"

"The text he sent you..." Aunt Mel sounded unsure, counting on her fingers. "You did get the text, right? As much as I hope you also missed your awesome family, I figured that text was at least seventy percent of the reason you came back earlier than expected."

When had Scott told Aunt Mel her phone got stolen? When had Derek sent the text? Shit. This was why she hated lying; couldn't keep track of everything.

"Uh, yeah," Joe lied, trying to keep her face neutral. Aunt Mel raised her eyebrows expectantly. Shit. What was in that text? "Uh, it's not all about the text."

Aunt Mel sucked in air through her teeth. "Ah, it was a fifty-fifty shot. I'm sorry, I helped him. He showed up here looking all lost and hurt and we talked and I told him the same thing I told Scott before the Winter Formal," Joe had no idea what that was, "and I did warn him that you might not react as expected, it was still a risk and he said something about the reward being worth it and aaah, I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to overstep any boundaries."

What the hell was in that text?

"I legitimately thought you liked him," Aunt Mel continued to apologize while Joe's brain tried to melt through her ears. "Again, I'm really sorry."

"Uhh, it's okay?" If you just stop talking about it!

"You sure? And you're sure you don't wanna stay for dessert? You can borrow some of my pants and I'll make coffee and... Joe? Oh, no, sweetheart. What did I say?"

Joe was crying. She tried so hard to hold it in and just couldn't. She hated it. Hated it so intensely.

Aunt Mel pulled her into a hug, almost automatically, without thinking and Joe could only think of everything that had gone so, so wrong. And to top it off, Scott and Isaac were still at the table, hearing and seeing everything. Seeing her weak and pathetic with a large red stain on her pants like she was some kind of blubbering toddler.

"I really got to get going," Joe forced out and forced herself away from Aunt Mel. To avoid having to deal with Scott, who had risen in his seat, she gave them a fast wave and hurried over to the door. "Thanks for the dinner, it was amazing, I gotta go."

"Joe, wait!"

The slamming door cut off Scott's voice. Wiping the stupid tears from her eyes, Joe nearly walked straight into Stiles Stilinski who was halfway up the steps to the house.

"Joe?" He sounded concerned, obviously noticing her state. "You okay?"

"It's nothing, just go ahead," she said and shook her head while stepping to the side to give him access to the door. "I gotta-"

"No, no, wait, I came here looking for you!" Stiles hurried down the steps after her. "I went to your apartment, but no one let me in and you didn't pick up when I called, so I came here."

Her phone. Joe was so used to being without one that she forgot to check it.

Stiles managed to stop her descent and she could just not deal with anymore puppy-eyed teenage boys tonight. "Are you sure you're okay?"

Just the question made her let out a half-laugh, half-sobbing sound again. Derek hadn't asked if she was okay. Scott hadn't asked if she was okay. Stiles was the first one who knew where she'd been the last months to ask her that. And she couldn't bring herself to answer honestly because she was not okay. Not by a long-shot.

"I'm just being stupid," Joe bit out and angled her face upwards to keep the tears in her eyes. She groaned to clear her voice and mind. "What's up?"

"Uh, well, there's that string of random sacrifices happening around town," Stiles said in a nonchalantly excited tone. "And we think it might be some evil Celtic druid-copycat and you're sorta our expert on all this folklore and magic stuff." He swallowed and gave her a closed-mouthed smile. "So...you wanna help us?"

"Us?" Joe repeated and Stiles gestured to his Jeep where a mildly annoyed Lydia Martin sat. She waved. Joe hesitantly waved back. "Uh...I gotta go home and change."

"Awesome!" Stiles exclaimed loudly, as usual, with his whole body. "We'll meet you there!"

"No!" Joe couldn't let them in the apartment, although she wasn't really sure why. "Sorry. No. We can meet...somewhere else? Sorry, Jimmy doesn't like house guests." Which was true, to be fair. Her mind felt weird. Was that the whole reason?

Figuring she could kill two birds with one stone, she had them meet her in the coffee shop downtown.

By the time she got back to the apartment, Jimmy had migrated from the bedroom to his computer, hunched over while scrolling through what had to be emergency call-transcripts.

Her breath hitched when she noticed the sleeping Erica in the bedroom as she tip-toed in to get a change of clothes. Alive. Erica was alive. Of course she was alive. Keeping the noise to the minimum, Joe grabbed the first thing she found in the clothes-pile and noted the pill bottle on the nightstand. Still not fully healed.

"Where do you think you are going?" Jimmy asked when Joe emerged in what she guessed could be referred to as jeggings, which were just leggings of denim-like fabric. At her explanation, he got up. "I'm coming with you."

"You really don't have to-"

He was already shrugging on a pair of navy slacks and a thin knitted sweater. "Not a question, Delgado. She'll be out for a few hours at least." Sunglasses on, he gestured. "Let's go."

On their way down the stairs, she asked: "What'd you give her?"

"Benadryl." He glanced at her as he opened the door. "Got them for you, but..."

"I'm done taking pills."

"Even when the alternative is crashing and burning?"

Joe flexed her hands, but said nothing.

They made their way to the coffee shop on foot where they spotted Lydia and Stiles through the window. Whatever Stiles was gesturing to explain, Lydia looked completely over it already. This late, there was only one other couple in here and they looked deeply invested in a conversation far away in the corner. Jimmy muttered something about high schoolers and disappeared to the counter to order.

"Hey," Joe said and gave Lydia Martin a nod when she sat down. She'd spoken to Lydia once before and hadn't seen her since the whole shitshow with Jackson went down.

Not much had changed about Lydia's pinched smile. "Hi." Her whole demeanor seemed to shift a bit, tilting her head and uncrossing her arms to let them rest in her lap when Jimmy came over to the table. "Hello. Don't think we've met...?"

"Jimmy Carter, no relation," Jimmy said automatically, oblivious to the girl's flirtatious behavior, although it was hard to tell as he still kept his sunglasses on. He did notice Stiles' frown and gave him a nod. "Stilinski."

Just then, Joe realized what Stiles' frown stemmed from. Jimmy's new appearance. At least Lydia seemed to appreciate it and Joe watched Stiles' ears redden.

"I'm Lydia Martin." Lydia was not giving up and extended her hand to Jimmy who glanced at it dismissively.

He sniffed and said: "Not interested. Come back in five years."

"Oooookay," Stiles intervened, a bit more attuned to Lydia's mood-changes as her eyebrows rose high in indignance. Stiles opened up a laptop in the middle of the table. "So here's what we got. Threefold deaths. First victims: Heather Custer, a sophomore. Ryan Clarke, junior and part-time lifeguard. Emily Perez, college freshman." He scrolled through pictures, all looked like they came from a yearbook. "Next round: Kyle Buchanan, a senior. Mr. Hughes, our music teacher. And, possibly, Adrian Harris."

"Your chemistry teacher?" Joe asked, recognizing the name from Scott's assignments and feedback, usually in a lot of red ink. "And why possibly?"

"Well, he's missing, but not found yet," Stiles explained. "But it does match the pattern."

"You've found it then?" asked Jimmy and slid the laptop closer to him, much to Stiles' visible annoyance. The pictures reflected in his sunglasses. "They came in threes. The first ones, were they virgins?"

Stiles made a face. "Okay, you realize how suspicious that question is, right? Yes, they were virgins, but how do you know that?"

"Oh, I know a little about virgin sacrifices," said Jimmy, with no indication that he was joking. As Stiles continued to get himself worked up, he sighed. "And Joe told me about it. Their ages were a solid clue anyway. All young, while the next 'round' seemed to have a more diverse cast."

"They're all connected to the military," Lydia explained, cutting in front of Stiles. "What? They are. Kyle was in this ROTC-stuff, Hughes was a veteran and so was Mr. Harris, who also happened to be an alcoholic." She shrugged daintily at their skeptical faces. "In case that was somehow relevant."

"Virgins and warriors..." Jimmy mused. "Celtic rituals."

Stiles spasm-attack nearly tore down the table. "Seriously? How do you know this stuff?"

No answer as the barista came over with their drinks and Joe eagerly took the oatmilk cappuccino, took a sip, and made a face. "Decaf? Seriously, Jimmy? Et tu, Brute?"

"How is that worse than just knowing stuff we had to see Deaton to find out?"

Joe blew air out of her mouth, a little miffed about the lack of caffeine. "Stiles, chill with the suspicion, I already told him what you told me. Besides, it's not just the Celts, a lot of cultures have ritual sacrifices and they're not random. Vikings would sacrifice their strongest warrior to appease their gods to prevent storms when they were setting sail. That's because their god of war was also their god of thunder."

"Thor, right?"

"Mm. And in case of famine, they'd sacrifice virgins, because their goddess of fertility was also their goddess of abundance or something. Although take all of the goddess-myths with a grain of salt, because they've been massively corrupted through the male gaze of sexually deprived archeologists of the nineteenth century."

"Okay, so..." Lydia started and sounded skeptical. "Whoever sacrificed virgins did it because they were worried about their harvest?"

"Not that simple," Jimmy said and cleared his throat as if bothered. "Virgins are connected with a lot of things. Beauty, fertility, attraction, but also stuff like Joe said: food, energy, purity... It's a long list. Warriors are simpler. That's usually power or strength."

"You look worried," Stiles pointed out, not looking that pleased himself. "If the second, no wait, third-most creepiest guy I've ever met looks worried, I feel worried too. Why do you look worried?"

Joe squinted at Stiles and guessed while counting on her fingers: "Peter, Derek, and Jimmy? In that order?" He nodded and she did too. "Agreed."

"I'm worried because one virgin sacrifice is powerful on its own, and here someone took three. Then three warriors," Jimmy tapped the laptop in obvious thought, "in that order."

"Whoever's doing this has a plan." Joe guessed where Jimmy was going with this. "There's a reason they started with virgins, they needed that aspect first. And they're probably not done yet."

"Yeah, because, power of three, right? We're looking at three rounds?" Stiles said, excited again to contribute. His face fell when Joe and Jimmy shook their heads. "It's not three? It's threefold death and three victims in each category. Why not three?"

"Threefold deaths represents a sort of punishment to each part of the trifunctional hypothesis. It's of prehistoric Proto-Indo-European society and postulates a tripartite ideology."

"Right, three parts of life," Lydia said in agreement, even if Stiles' jaw had slackened at Joe's words. "Sacral, martial, and economic, right?"

"Y-yes," Joe said, again taken aback at this high school girl's intensity. "Or, uh, three stages of life. Maiden, mother, and crone for example. Past, present, future — the Fates of Greek mythology. It's sort of a holy death, how Odin killed himself to gain absolute knowledge and even Merlin predicted his own death to be threefold."

"So why not three sets of victims three times?"

"Because the Celts believed a person's soul was divided into five aspects. Or, four plus one. Four limbs plus the center. There's a theory they divided their society into five classes as well. The symbolism got carried over to Christianity too, Jesus had five wounds. It's at least a theory it came from the Celtic because of the-"

"Five-fold knot," Jimmy said with a nod. He grabbed a napkin and drew four circles barely overlapping each other, then a final circle in the middle that connected all of them. "Five was a really sacred number for the old druids. Always four plus one. Four seasons plus the transition. Four elements plus energy. Four directions plus the center. Or, as Joe said, four limbs plus the body."

The table fell silent for a while, everyone staring at Jimmy's drawing.

"So whoever's doing this is not even halfway?" Stiles exclaimed after a while. "They're just getting started?" He rubbed his face hurriedly when Jimmy nodded. "Okay, how do we find out what's coming next?"

"Depends on what this person wants," Joe said and grabbed the napkin, tracing the circles. Overlapping. Four plus one. How many in the Alpha Pack? Four plus one. "The virgins is a strange place to start. If it was something superficial like beauty, it would come last. And yet, they needed whatever the virgins could give them before they needed strength." She furrowed her brows, still tracing the circles.

"Do you have any suspects?" Jimmy asked and leaned back with his arms over his head. Joe noticed how Lydia's gaze drifted appreciatively to the flexed arms.

"Uh, yeah, now I've added the two of you to the list," Stiles muttered and got out his phone. "Peter, Derek, Cora, Deaton, Harris, the Professors, Jimmy, and Joe and, uh..."

"Me," Lydia said with a roll of her eyes even if Stiles did not look ready to admit it. "Just because I keep finding these bodies all the time and because I kind of resurrected Peter Hale and not remembering most of it."

Joe caught Jimmy studying the contents of his teacup, not looking up. Okay, if she didn't know him, she'd be suspicious too.

"It's not Cora," Joe said instead.

"Really? No one knows anything about her and she just shows up out of the blue, not even Derek knowing she was alive and, you know, she's Derek's sister. Major creep factor right there."

"For what it's worth, and this pains me to admit, I don't think it's Derek either," Jimmy supplied with a frown, fiddling a bit with his sunglasses. "As Joe wisely said once, subterfuge is not his 'game'. And he would definitely have gone for the warriors first."

Joe nodded in agreement. "Mm, for the strength."

Stiles blew a raspberry and narrowed his eyes. "You're not gonna deny it's you?"

"Joe was still locked up during the first murder. I know when it was because I read the newspaper, Mr. Stilinski," Jimmy added when Stiles did not exactly look less suspicious at this. "A case like this would catch my attention."

"Wait," Lydia had a thin smile to her lips and tilted her head, "you said Joe was locked up. Where were you?"

"Scheming," Jimmy said with a grin and Joe nearly laughed when she saw Lydia fluster. Sometimes she forgot how attractive Jimmy was to the general society. "But unfortunately not to plan the threefold deaths of three virgins."

They fell silent for a while, Jimmy still scrolling through the notes Stiles had made on his laptop. Joe saw some reference to mistletoe and a map of where the people were last seen and where they were found. All of them tied to trees, except the lifeguard who was in the high chair at a pool.

"I still don't like this about the virgins," Joe said after a while.

Stiles gave a shrug. "Well, yeah, no one really likes virgin sacrifices, Joe."

"No, I mean, the motive bugs me. There's always a motive, okay? My dad always says you have to follow the money when it comes to crime. There's something to be gained. What could be so important for this person that they started with the virgins instead of warriors?"

Leaning back in his chair, Jimmy thought out loud. "Ritualistic sacrifices of virgins have been tied to achieving beauty, purity, power of seduction..." His brows furrowed. "You're thinking it's a woman?"

"Yeah, I kind of do. Men would typically start with the warriors, build strength first, gain power. It's profiling 101. I mean, seduction sounds most likely, but who in Beacon Hills is worth sacrificing three virgins for?"

No one had an answer to that.

Stiles made a face. "If we're looking for women, it means the only suspects are your professors."

Joe thought about this. "I'm not writing them off completely, but they're married, uh, to each other and did not look any extra beautiful or pure when I saw them last. And they're not even in Beacon Hills. Why go here to do a bunch of murders?"

"To throw off suspicion? Lack of people with virginal qualities in Berkeley?"

"Too easy. I think we have to expand that list of yours with suspects."

Preferably starting with a certain teacher at Beacon Hills High School — the Alpha's Emissary.

A little "mundane" breather after the last chapter that got kinda heavy.

And before you're coming for my boy Scott here, he has his reasons for acting the way he does. Not saying they're good reasons, but they're reasons. And he's not the most socially adept, so it's coming off as slightly asshole-ish.

Guest, pretty much everything you asked is answered in later chapters. Same with you, JoyDG, but I agree with that the Halegado-ship is in rough shape. The whole scene was to highlight how on edge they both are. We're also seeing everything through Joe's POV and she's interpreting everything in the worst way possible. Sara, I appreciate your non-ghost status and if I didn't already have a different pairing in mind for Jimmy, you would have been first in line!

Anywho, hope you enjoyed it! Loving all of the comments and discussions (and theories!) these last few chapters ❤ Please let me know what you think of this one too. Bonus point if you can figure out why the Alphas wanted Joe to kill Erica...

Thank you for reading! Have a great weekend, guys!

(Btw, timeline-wise last chapter was episode 4 of season 3 and this chapter takes place between episode 4 and 5)