A/N) Teen Wolf does not belong to me. Thanks for all the support, hope you enjoy this next chapter :)
Unlike the ride she got with Scott on his bike's handlebars all those weeks ago, Isaac did not make her fall off.
Despite the fact he was clearly in a rush as morning practice would soon be starting, he took his time going around corners and braked gently. Even once, reaching out to grab her hip when he thought she was going to fall. Of course, he soon muttered an apology and snapped his hand back like he had been burnt and she just hid her smirk, her naturally curled hair blowing in his face.
He slowed down when he reached the bike rack and she jumped off, tucking her skirt back down that had rode up and turned to smile at him.
"Thanks for the ride" she said, watching as he kept his gaze diverted and unclipped his helmet, hanging it on the handlebars. "A jog before school in a skirt wouldn't have been my best moment".
"It's uh... it's no bother" he muttered, hiking his bag further up his shoulder, "I should probably, uh-"
"What's the rush?" she grinned, revelling in his awkwardness, "I don't bite".
He jerked his head up at those words, looking at her with wide - almost terrified - eyes. As if he saw more into her words than she meant. She was just being playful and a little flirtatious - nothing out of the ordinary for her - but he didn't know her. Maybe he took her words at face value.
Probably without meaning to, he touched his side, making her frown.
"You good?" she quizzed, her brows knitting together in curiosity.
"... Yeah" he murmured, gulping nervously, "I'm just-I'm late-"
"Isaac-" she interrupted, grabbing his arm before he could run off, "-if you saw something else, or if something scared you-"
"I didn't see anything" he said quickly, making her frown, studying his expression and focusing on his black eye that seemed relatively fresh, still bruising a dark blue.
"What happened to your eye?" she settled on asking, watching as he flinched in panic.
"Uh… l-lacrosse practice".
"That bruise doesn't look much more than twelve hours old" she observed.
"I was practising by myself".
She didn't buy his words one bit, but he was getting flustered and panicky and she felt a little bad, dropping her grip on his arm.
For some reason, she felt like she knew him. Something about those baby blues was hauntingly familiar in a weird kind of way, or maybe it was because she recognised the pain and sadness in his gaze. The same kind of pain and sadness that was in hers. Something wasn't right about this kid's situation, and she wanted to know what.
"Well, if you do remember anything then you know where to find me".
He nodded but kept his gaze diverted, scuttling away.
She knew he was lying - or rather, emitting certain truths - but she had to be careful about it. Isaac Lahey seemed too delicate at the moment, and she didn't want to push him too far off the deep end.
It was only a couple of seconds later did Stiles appear by her side out of nowhere, his brows pinched together in curious wondering.
"What were you doing with Isaac Lahey?"
"Wow, good morning to you too handsome" she chuckled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his lips but, when she pulled back, he still had a worried frown on his face that even her lips couldn't melt away.
"Why were you with Isaac Lahey?" he repeated, although this time he sounded - dare she say it - a little insecure.
"He gave me a ride" she shrugged simply.
"A-A ride?" he spluttered, "he rides a bike, not a Harley".
She had to bite back her amused smile, a little flattered he seemed to be a little het up and maybe even a tad jealous.
"Stiles?" she asked sweetly.
"Yeah?"
"Why are you focusing on Isaac Lahey and not on how hot I look right now?"
He snapped his gaze down to her outfit, his adorable brown eyes widening as he took her all in. Barely able to swallow his gasp as his tongue darted out to dampen his lips, a light flush tingling his cheeks. Admiring her skin on show - which was a lot of skin. Her cropped white tee and short little skirt barely leaving much to the imagination.
"... Oh... wow..."
Just to turn him on even more, she deliberately did a playful twirl in front of him, her green plaid skirt swaying around the tops of her thighs, biting back her laugh as he looked about ready to pass out.
"What, uh... what was I talking about?" he mumbled, his gaze flickering back to her bare legs.
She grinned, his apparent worries forgotten.
Damn, she was good.
"So I do look hot then?" she teased.
"You look... like I want to get you in the back of my jeep and make you mine".
Despite her very zealous and overconfidence with her sexuality, even she was slightly taken aback by Stiles' words, not expecting something so deliciously erotic to leave his lips.
"Oh really?" she smirked, her skin flushing with warmth under his needy stare - eyes filled with so much appreciation and lust she almost jumped him right then and there.
He seemed a little embarrassed that she said that, but nodded all the same. Slowly, and shyly, reaching out to dust his fingers along the hem of her skirt.
"It's... It's short" he observed, his pulse racing in his neck so much that she could see the vein bulge, "really short".
Her eyes flashed with amusement. "Is that a problem?"
"Yes" he answered immediately, "because how the hell am I meant to concentrate all day when I know what's under it?"
Her breath caught in her throat, subconsciously stepping closer to him, the heat of his body making her melt. Her skin glowing a pretty pink as she remembered how right he treated her body just a few days ago and craved for him to do it again.
She may be the seductress, but it was times like this she was putty in his hands.
"We find Lydia?" she whispered, "then I'm all yours".
She meant it. She had a taste of him and now she wanted more. Probably more than she wanted anything in her entire life. Her body - and soul - crying out for him, almost inhumanely.
He looked startled by her words, his hand stilling on her upper thigh.
"Y-You mean that?" he stuttered, "I mean... you'll be mine?"
"I'm already yours" she reminded him, "but yeah... in any way you want..." she added suggestively, biting her lip.
She thought he might pass out anytime soon, but luckily he semi-snapped himself out of it, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
It was at that perfect moment that Scott jogged up to the two of them, clearly unaware he was interrupting a very sexually charged moment by an innocent, and a little dopey, expression on his face.
"Hey Kay" he greeted before slapping Stiles' shoulder, "dude, c'mon, we're going to be late for practice".
Stiles jumped, awkwardly trying to adjust himself as she crossed her ankles, trying to ignore the heat spreading between her legs.
God, she wanted him.
No one said anything for several seconds until Scott frowned, a daunting realisation crossing his features.
"I just interrupted something, didn't I?"
"Funnily enough bud, yeah, you did" Stiles snarked lightly, "thanks for that".
"Go to practice" she laughed, "I'll catch up with you both later, okay?"
She pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips, winked at Scott, then turned on her heel and bounced away, hearing Stiles mutter under his breath "that girl will be the god damn death of me".
"Who the hell is that?" Scott whispered, clinging to the large cement sculpture as they watched an older man enter the cemetery, a breezy air of confidence swimming around him.
She craned around Scott, basically clambering on top of him to get a better look at the scene unfolding in front of their very eyes, balancing on his shoulders for stability.
"Oh. New character unlocked" she mumbled, pushing up to see better, "he looks crazy. He must be an Argent".
"An Argent?" Scott asked in terror, "what makes you think that?"
"That" she said, watching as the older man embraced Chris somewhat awkwardly, although the gesture was presumably meant to be warm. "As someone with severe daddy issues, I can tell straight away that's Chris' dad".
If more Argents were in town, that spelt trouble. Which means, most likely, that the rest of sophomore year would not go smoothly for them.
They watched quietly as the man gazed sternly at Kate's coffin and then hugged Mrs Argent, before facing a confused and wary Allison.
"On a scale of one to ten... how screwed do you think we are?" Scott winced.
"Honestly?" she shrugged, "probably about an eleven".
It was then Stiles finally decided to appear, shuffling over to them breathless.
"What did I miss?"
"Grandpappy Argent" she replied, sliding down Scott's back, "it's like a goddamn family reunion over there".
Stiles paled "oh... that's not good".
Allison had glanced over at them however, she wasn't being all that low key, which meant every Argent by the graveside diverted their gaze to the tree line which sent the three of them scrambling for cover.
"Real subtle boys" she remarked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.
"Maybe... maybe they don't hunt" Stiles said somewhat optimistically for him, followed by a shrug, "I mean, there could be non hunting Argents, right?"
"Maybe on Mars".
"Kayla's right" Scott agreed, "I know what they're here for. They're reinforcements".
"Battle lines are being drawn" she nodded, "an Argent killed The Hale's... a Hale killed an Argent. This is war".
Before any of them could process that absolute bombshell, Scott and Stiles suddenly got yanked up by the nape of their shirts by none other than Sheriff Stilinski.
"The two of you-oh. Three" he corrected, frowning as he saw her still hunched on the ground, "of course it's three. I should've known".
She sent him her best, most award-winning smile, trying to look as innocent as possible.
"Hi again Sheriff. You look dapper".
"None of you should be here, least of all you" he added, looking down at her, "if the Argents see you here-"
"That's why we're hiding" she said very matter-of-factly.
The Sheriff sighed, clearly at his wits end with the three of them - and honestly? She couldn't blame him. Whenever there was trouble, it was always them three. They must give him a migraine at least twice weekly.
"Stiles, pick up my tie" he ordered through gritted teeth as Stiles sheepishly bent down to grab it. "Kayla, follow me".
The Sheriff dragged Scott and Stiles to his cruiser, leaving her to follow. Ordering them to get in the back where he could "keep an eye on them".
So she was left squished between Scott and Stiles with a very unamused dad and Sheriff up the front, the silence deafening.
She looked between her two friends, their broad shoulders crushing into her, unable to stay silent for too long.
"I feel like this is the start to a lot of pornos".
Stiles spat out a mouthful of air in shock as Scott blinked a couple times, taking a few seconds to process what she said before blushing, avoiding her gaze. Whereas the Sheriff simply cocked a brow at her in the rearview mirror, exasperated with her runaway mouth.
She was unfazed by their reactions, shrugging a shoulder at Stiles as he gaped at her.
"What?" she asked, "this is like the perfect set-up for a bit of threesome spitroast action-"
Stiles yelped, covering her mouth with his hand before she could say any more.
"Shhhhhh".
She rolled her eyes, pushing his hand away.
"I wasn't suggesting you both DP me, I was just saying-"
The Sheriff's radio cackled to life, making Stiles breathe a sigh of relief at the interruption as he muttered a quiet and panicked "oh thank god".
"4 - 1 - 5 Adam".
"I didn't copy that" the Sheriff said, "did you say 4 - 1 - 5 Adam?"
Before she could even ask the encyclopaedia of police talk - aka, Stiles - he looked at them both and translated "disturbance in a car".
"It's kinda sexy you know all that off by heart" she admitted, catching him off guard again.
"They were taking a heart attack victim - D.O.A. But on the way to the hospital, something hit 'em".
The Sheriff frowned, "what - hit the ambulance?"
"Copy that" the officer radio'd back, "I'm standing in front of it right now. Something got in the back. There's blood everywhere. And I mean everywhere".
She shared a look with Scott and Stiles, all of them thinking the exact same thing - that this was their kind of thing.
"All right, unit 4, what's your 20?"
"Route 5 and post. I swear, I've never seen anything like this".
Yup. Definitely their thing.
Stiles quietly opened the door, signalling for them to follow him - which they did, all without the Sheriff knowing.
When they had jogged far enough away from the cruiser to not be spotted, Stiles turned to face them with a worried look.
"Lydia?"
"Maybe" she agreed, "but I don't think it was her at the graveyard, so maybe it's not her at the ambulance".
"Why do you not think it was Lydia at the graveyard?" Scott asked curiously.
"Because of Isaac" she shrugged, "he's a teenage boy. If he saw Lydia naked, clawing at that grave, he would've been in awe - not terrified".
"Well, maybe he's gay" Stiles cut in, making her snort.
"He's definitely not gay" she laughed, much to Stiles' surprise.
"Wha-Why do you say that?"
"Dude kept looking at my tits. Not that I blame him, they are spectacular".
Before Stiles could reply, his expression tense and affronted, Scott held out his hands and exclaimed "so what the hell is it then?"
Unsurprisingly, both boys looked at her expectedly - as if she, like magic, had all the answers
"It's cute how you both think I know".
"You're a Hale" Scott frowned, "you know more than we do".
"I don't know, maybe another werewolf" she shrugged, "one that is severely out of control".
"Derek?" Stiles winced, "maybe he's started turning people already".
"Maybe" she agreed, knowing that would be the next step of his plan, "let's go".
By the time they hurried through the woods, stopping periodically for a breathless Stiles, it had just turned dark. Giving them the perfect opportunity to see into the ambulance that was completely splattered in blood, the dead body covered in a white sheet.
"Lydia couldn't have done that" she shook her head, "I know she can be a bitch, but that's... that's brutal".
"Well..." Stiles muttered, "Lydia with claws is not something I want to see".
"I really don't think she's turning into a werewolf" she disagreed quietly, "she didn't heal, for starters. If the bite takes, it always heals".
"Like mine did" Scott nodded.
"Exactly. Plus, there's lots more than just werewolves out there" she said, "way more. Creatures you've probably never even heard of. My gut is telling me there's more to this".
Scott and Stiles looked equally terrified by that thought, sharing an uneasy glance through the darkness.
"Either way, we need to find her" Scott deduced, "I'm going to try and catch her scent again. Both of you, stay safe".
Scott slinked away, dodging the police presence, and for a second she thought he was about to bound away on all fours like some cliche teenage werewolf, but thankfully he stuck to two legs, disappearing into the darkness.
As such, Stiles and her were left crouching in amongst the leaves and dirt, the cool, crisp night air beginning to make her shiver. Winding her arms around her torso and rubbing them to try and create some friction.
Stiles quirked a brow at her, beginning to shrug off his shirt, leaving him in a 'I support single moms' tee.
"You're cold" he observed, holding out the moss-coloured material, "here, take it".
"I'm fine" she said stubbornly, making him snort.
"You're freezing" he chuckled, "you left your cardigan at school, and tonight is going to be one of the coldest nights out. Take the shirt".
She grunted, but graciously accepted the plaid material, slipping it around her body. Immediately, a reassuring warmth encasing her.
"As my boyfriend, aren't you supposed to want to undress me, not dress me?" she smirked, making him blush.
"If I undress you any more than you already are, then I'll have Frosty the snowman as a girlfriend" he pointed at, reaching out to rub her thigh, giving her another heat source.
"Thanks" she mumbled, burying her face into the collar of the shirt and inhaling, breathing in Stiles' scent that immediately seemed to calm her down. All her worries seeming to quiet a little inside her head.
"We'll find her" he promised her, squeezing her thigh, "and she'll be okay".
She tilted her head up at him, her cheek resting against her shoulder, his plaid shirt chasing away the cold.
"It's my fault" she admitted quietly, "if I just went with Peter that night then he wouldn't have hurt her-"
"Don't do that to yourself" he interrupted her, "you're not responsible for what Peter did. It's not your fault she got hurt - it's his, and only his".
She wanted to believe him, she really did, but she couldn't help but wonder how different the events of that night could've been if, instead of running away from him, she accepted his offer of revenge. Maybe if she had, Lydia wouldn't have been fighting for her life and now missing. Maybe, if she had stopped thinking she could fix everything, then everything wouldn't be broken now.
"I hate my family sometimes" she grumbled, much to his amusement.
"Well, there's something we both have in common because so do I".
She laughed, a little louder than she intended to, which resulted in a bright flashlight getting pointed in their direction, causing her and Stiles to duck.
"Kids?" a familiar voice asked in exasperation, "I know you're there. I saw you".
Her and Stiles shared a look before begrudgingly standing up, seeing the Sheriff looking at them in the distance with an irritated look on his face.
"Get up here" the sheriff sighed, and even though she couldn't see, she was sure he was rolling his eyes at them, "I'd rather have you both where I can keep my eye on you".
They obliged, Stiles taking her hand as they trudged up the incline and onto the road, the glare of the ambulance's red and blues lighting up the s heriff's displeased face. His arms crossed in front of him as he cocked a brow, clearly expecting an explanation.
"Uh..." Stiles muttered, "we were just... out for a-a jog".
"You? Jog?" The sheriff snorted disbelieving.
"Well, Kayla was" he corrected, "jogging, that is. I was just, y'know... supporting"
Clearly he didn't buy those words one bit, sighing and looking for an explanation from Kayla.
She simply shrugged, "we're looking for Lydia".
"See? Now that I believe" the sheriff said, "both of you stay right here and don't move a muscle and, for gods sake Stiles, get your girlfriend a damn jacket".
Stiles gaped, looking affronted at his dad's words.
"Wha-I... I gave her my shirt".
The Sheriff rolled his eyes, shrugging off his chunky jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders.
"Thanks Sheriff" she beamed.
"Kiss ass" Stiles grumbled as his dad walked off, chatting with one of his deputy's.
"Deal with it" she smirked, "because I can kiss ass better than anybody".
Surprisingly, they did as the Sheriff asked. Mostly because he kept looking over towards them every ten seconds to make sure they were staying put and staying out of trouble.
"So, you really believe that Lydia didn't do this?" Stiles asked, waving his hand out to the bloodied ambulance.
"I do" she nodded, "maybe it's a gut feeling more than anything else, but it doesn't feel like a Lydia thing to do".
"If she has turned into something else… what do you think she could be?"
Honestly, she had no idea. There were too many things out there in the big bad world to even begin to speculate. She was proof of that. But something told her they needed to find out - and find out fast.
She shrugged, glancing up at his expectant face, but instead of replying straight away, something off in the distance caught her eye.
That something was Lydia. A very naked Lydia.
She gasped, quickly brushing past Stiles to grab a blanket from another ambulance and rushed over to her friend before anyone else had even noticed her, wrapping her freezing body up in the thick blue cloth.
"Oh thank god" she mumbled, bringing Lydia into an unexpected hug, relieved beyond belief that she was alive and well - and maybe, selfishly, ease of guilt that her actions had endangered her.
"Your sudden displays of affection are a little unnerving Kayla" the strawberry blonde muttered, "are you having some kind of mental breakdown?"
She laughed at the irony, pulling back to look at her friend. Reaching out to pick a leaf from her matted hair.
"I'm just glad you're okay. You had us all really worried".
"Naked hiking?" Lydia whispered, "do not recommend".
"Where's Kayla?" was the greeting he got from his dad later that night at the station when he appeared, the buzz surrounding a missing Lydia now having worn off.
"She's staying with Lydia at the hospital tonight. Make sure she doesn't go for another naked stroll through the woods".
"So no cooking breakfast for three tomorrow then?"
He blushed at his dad's question, shutting the door to his office behind him.
"No, uh… no breakfast. No nothing in fact, because we haven't… we're not… I mean, she isn't… with me…"
"Son?"
"Yeah?"
"I know" his dad chuckled, "but I also know how teenage hormones can be and-"
"Oh my god, can we please not go there?" he begged desperately, "or I may be tempted to hang myself - repeatedly. With my own shoelaces".
His dad blew out a long breath, looking at him over the top of his glasses.
"Okay" he surrendered, "but we will need to have this talk sometime you know".
"Can it be when I'm dead?"
His dad rolled his eyes but surrendered, dropping the subject. It was then, upon closer observation, Stiles noticed his desk was covered in paper and files, two cardboard boxes sitting next to one another.
"What's all this?" he asked, stepping closer.
"Hm? Oh" his dad said, "that's none of your business".
Hearing the words 'none of your business' just made Stiles more intrigued, reaching out to open some files, only managing to catch sight of one word before his dad snatched them from his grip, sending him a disapproving glare.
"What about 'none of your business' don't you seem to understand?"
He ignored him, his brows pinching together.
"Hale? Why-what is this?" he asked, making his dad sigh, "are you still looking into the fire? Because I thought it was pretty obvious that Kate-"
"No, I'm not looking into the fire. That case is closed".
"Then what-"
"I'm just... I'm taking a second look at Kayla's dad and brother's murders with a fresh set of eyes, that's all".
"Why?" he challenged, taken aback by that answer.
"Because something isn't sitting right with me" his dad sighed, "there is something about that family and all their tragedies that tells me they have to be linked. In what way? I'm not sure. But I sure as hell want to find out".
Stiles couldn't deny he was curious too. Although he knew the reason why Kayla's family were targeted, he did wonder what exactly happened that night. He knew the basics, but a part of him wanted to know more. Maybe - just maybe - it was an Argent that killed her dad and brother too. Who knows.
"Does Kayla know?" he asked, because if she didn't then he knew there would be hell to pay.
His dad inclined his head into a brief nod. "She does. I spoke to her about it that morning she stayed over. She gave me the go-ahead".
That surprised him because he didn't expect Kayla to be willing to be this forthcoming about her past or her family, especially to the authorities, but maybe the need to find who did it outweighed her desire for secrecy.
"Have you found anything?" he asked, peeping into the boxes again.
"Yeah" his dad scoffed, "several failures throughout the whole investigation. It's like the cops did it with their eyes closed. It's a shambles".
"Can I help?"
"No".
"Why?"
"You're not on my payroll".
Stiles exhaled a puff of air, rolling his eyes. "Oh please, we both know I'm better than half - if not all - of your deputies out there".
"You're also sixteen" his dad reminded him, "and, oh yeah, one of the victims is your girlfriend".
Although he didn't know what happened that night, he was aware of the fact his dad referred to her as a 'victim'. What the hell actually happened?
He blew out a long breath, collapsing back on the chair.
"Is this really all the Louisiana police had on a double homicide?" he scoffed, the two boxes and few files seeming like the bare minimum.
"Like I said Stiles-" his dad mumbled, his voice tense as he too sat down opposite him, "-it was a mess. No wonder they didn't catch who did it. They trampled on evidence, failed to secure a perimeter, took too long to take witness statements and lost any key evidence material that they might have had. They may as well have handed them the keys to their getaway car".
"What do you think?" Stiles asked curiously, "What's your theory?"
His dad half-heartedly shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "I don't buy the burglary angle. Their house had expensive things, as well as an untampered safe with hundreds of thousands of dollars in cash and millions in bearer bonds. Why not even attempt to take anything, but kill two people?"
"Because it wasn't a burglary".
"Exactly" his dad nodded, "criminals are opportunists. Why not take what they could get their hands on? That tells me that going to that house that night, they had one intention and one only - to kill that family and nothing else mattered".
Even that sent a shiver up Stiles' spine, another punch in the gut at how ruthless the war and hatred between werewolves and humans could be.
"I'm just… I'm struggling to see why" his dad admitted, "on the surface, they seem like a normal family".
Stiles held back a snort at that because nothing - absolutely nothing - was normal about that family.
"They have generational wealth but had jobs and hobbies and gave to charity. Hell, they even paid their taxes. I can't see anything that would make them a target of such a brutal, heinous crime. Especially as it seemed personal, taking trophies-"
"Trophies?" Stiles interrupted, "what kind of trophies?"
His dad winced, realising he had put his foot in his mouth - telling him details of a case that he shouldn't have.
"Dad" he insisted, "what kind of trophies? That could be their signature. Maybe some kind of pattern to track".
His dad's face tensed, a troubled expression twisting his features.
"… Their teeth Stiles" he said quietly, much to Stiles' disgust, "they took their teeth. Specifically, their canines".
As if killing werewolves wasn't bad enough, but mutilating them as they did? It was sick.
"They took their…?" he had questioned, trailing off and swallowing his sickness, thoroughly and completely disturbed.
"All these things add up to a planned and meticulous crime. One that should have been the Lousianna police's number one priority. Instead, it wasn't, and that family were let down. Maybe if they weren't… Kayla wouldn't have been in all that trouble…"
"Easy to see why she went off the deep end, huh?"
His dad looked at him gravely. "If I saw what she did that night, and had to endure that kind of terror, I'd be getting locked up in Eichen. That girl is a credit to herself. She took the wrong path, but she found her way back again eventually. That's why I have a soft spot for her… because I can see the good in her and let me tell you something… there's an awful lot of good there, even if she doesn't see it herself".
He agreed. Of course he agreed. He had seen it this entire time. A damaged girl, a little rough around the edges, but with a good heart below all the pain and sorrow. He was just glad his dad saw it too.
A few crime scene photos caught his attention on the desk underneath a stack of papers, so he reached out and held them up. His stomach curdling uncomfortably at the sight.
The first was of their living room. A grand space with large ceilings and chandeliers, but the pristine cream carpet was soaked with pools and splatters of blood, smashed glass and broken ornaments. The second was off the front entrance, the large doors completely caved in and splintered. The third, and probably the most alarming, was of necklace, the pendent the shape of a tree, lying in amongst broken glass and a trashed dining room. Splatters of blood and nail marks engraved into the carpet.
He recognised that necklace. He saw it in Kayla's box of sentimentals under her bed. He remembered the note that went along with it, from her dad wishing her a happy birthday.
He could see, from the photo, that the necklace was broken at the clasp. As if it had been ripped from her neck or torn off during a struggle. The splatters of blood, did they belong to her? What about the long trail of nail marks carved into the carpet? Were they from her too? Was she dragged?
"That's Kayla's necklace" he stated, turning the photo to show his dad, "what happened in that room?"
His dad took the photos from his grasp, putting them away in the box.
"What happened is that poor girl had to watch her family get murdered. She fought back" he said simply, "and she lived. She lived because she fought like hell. She's a survivor".
Stiles sighed, looking down at his feet as he toyed over what he had just seen.
"She doesn't talk about them much. Her dad and brother" he said.
"Everyone deals with grief differently" his dad replied, his voice calming and soft, "you're in a unique position to understand that".
Sadly, he did. He knew the sharp sting of grief all too well. He knew that, although you learn to cope, the pain never truly goes away. Especially the pain of losing a parent.
He simply nodded, standing up in preparation of his leave.
"Just, uh… be careful looking into this" he advised, giving his dad a worried look, "you might be surprised with what you find".
His dad smiled, "I've worked in law enforcement for over twenty years Stiles. Trust me, nothing surprises me anymore".
Stiles was sure he'd be choking on those words soon enough.
A/N) The beginnings of Isaac... oh, this is going to be fun ;) I'm so excited to explore more of Kayla's backstory in this, and have the Sheriff more involved. And, of course, I can't wait for lots of smut hahaha so I hoped you all liked and please please review and I will see you all super soon :)