Howling to the Heart || Isaac Lahey

90.

"Why are you here again?" Derek asked Neriah the next day, standing in the police station.

"Stilinski called me down and said you were being released," she answered flatly, picking at her nails.

Stiles had managed to escape the loony house with Malia Tate being the last one to see him. Where he had gone, Neriah didn't know yet. But she had been busy with her own things.

Last night after the Kincaid situation, the twins had allowed her to stay at theirs since Scott wasn't talking to her. And Ryker had gone back to the hospital to apparently put Ezril in his place—whatever that meant—leaving her to have nothing to do but come down to the station.

The moment she walked through the front doors; Derek knew what had happened with her humanity since Mr. Argent had told him. Now both the men were watching her closely.

Behind the front desk, Parrish held up Mr. Argent's taser rod. "Sorry, but I can't let you walk out with this. It's way above the legal voltage limit."

"I only use it for hunting," Mr. Argent countered and both the Hale's raised a brow at him.

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you could use it to jump-start a seven forty-seven," Parrish argued.

"This property belongs to me, and the charges were dropped," Mr. Argent quietly snapped. "Although, I'm not exactly sure who's responsible for that."

"I am," Mr. Stilinski said, walking up to them. "I'll take care of this, Parrish."

"Sheriff, I'm not kidding," Parrish said and Neriah rolled her eyes, leaning against the desk. "This thing's a few watts from being a lightsaber."

Mr. Stilinski took the tazer from him. "I said I'll take care of it." He turned to the others, cocking his head before walking back toward his office.

"Family chat? Right," Neriah said flatly, following behind Derek and Mr. Argent into the office.

Mr. Stilinski walked around to behind his desk as the other three stood in front of it, having no clue why they were still there.

"The specialist I saw in LA told me the thing that every doctor says when he's trying to avoid a lawsuit," he said to them. "We can't say for sure. And then I spoke with Melissa." He held up x-ray sheets. "These are brain scans. My wife's and Stiles'," he explained, handing them to Mr. Argent. "I knew they were similar. But those are the same. Exactly the same."

"And I'm guessing this isn't possible?" Derek asked from beside Neriah.

"Not even remotely possible," Neriah murmured, taking the scans out of Mr. Argent's hand. "These had to be manipulated in some way."

"So the trickster is still playing tricks," Mr. Argent said as Neriah dropped the scans onto the desk, feeling a tiny amount of sadness that she quickly shoved away.

"But why this trick?" Derek questioned.

Mr. Stilinski looked back down at the scans and then at them. "When I was in the Army, an officer told me, if you want to defeat your enemy, you don't take away their courage. You take away their hope."

"You don't look like a man who gives up hope easily," Mr. Argent said.

"He doesn't, but Stiles might," Neriah admitted quietly, feeling another emotion trying to rise that she quickly fought against, pushing it away.

Mr. Stilinski nodded. "If this thing inside him, if it's using his mother's disease as some sort of psychological trick, then this isn't just a fight for his body. It's also a fight for his mind. Right?"