Burn It Down || Stilinski || Book One

Twenty-Eight

Instead of letting Stiles speak, Sierra cleared her throat. "And a murder," she lied in his defense. Allison kept her brown eyes on the floor, knowing his paranoia was justified but it wasn't helping them keep Lydia from finding out the truth. "Yeah, it was bad," Sierra blabbered once Jackson sighed in annoyance.

The Argent lifted her head and nudged it towards upstairs; a signal for Jackson to talk to Lydia privately. "Lydia, follow me," he instructed calmly. "I need to talk to you for a minute."

"Seriously?" Lydia groaned, but followed him down the hall anyways. Aggravated, she grumbled under her breath, "What is going on with everyone?"

Allison, Stiles, and Sierra stayed in the entrance, watching outside in case anyone would show up. "Anyone else slightly scared of what could happen?" Sierra asked quietly, tightening her grip on Stiles' hand. He tore his gaze away from the window to see her impatiently tapping her foot  against the wood, her teeth harshly biting down in her bottom lip.

"Hey," he spoke up softly and turned to fully face her. Allison shot Sierra a concerned glance, but let Stiles calm her down; they were her OTP after all. He placed his free hand on her cheek, and her blue eyes darted up to his brown ones. "It's going to be okay," he assured.

"How do you know?"

He found no point in lying to her, she would know anyways. "I don't," he answered truthfully. "But have you forgotten who we are? You are Sierra, I'm Stiles. As long as we have each other, there's nothing that we can't accomplish." Sierra felt herself calm down slightly, and allowed a small smile to slip onto her face. "Not to mention, our best friend is a werewolf and Allison is a badass with a bow," Stiles added and felt his heart jump as she lightly laughed.

"Well this badass with a bow thinks we should contact the werewolf," Allison spoke up from a couple feet way, worry etched in her tone. Both of them looked away from each other to see her glancing out the window. Quickly, they followed  her stance. Their eyes widened simultaneously at the sight of Derek and his pack standing outside in the street, watching the house with determined faces. She wasted no time in calling her boyfriend, urging him to quickly get home right now.

*^*^*^*^

Ten minutes later, the three of them were still fearfully looking out the windows as the four werewolves conversed outside on what their plan was. Scott still wasn't home and it was almost dark. Letting out a sigh, Stiles ran his hand over his buzz-cut while thinking of what they could possibly do from inside. Sierra was pacing behind him, her mind filled with hundreds of possible outcomes while she chewed on her thumbnail. Allison was majorly contemplating calling her father due to the danger she and her friends were in, but doing so would ruin her relationship with Scott. Was that the only option?

Turning on her heel, Sierra's eyes fell on the phone in the brunette's hand and called her name. Allison looked up, fear in her dark eyes. She wiped her stuffy nose with her cardigan and faced them. "I think I have to call my dad," she revealed sadly.

"But if he finds you here, you and Scott..."Sierra started but she didn't need to finish. Allison knew what would happen. 

"But what are we supposed to do?" Allison asked, feeling hopeless as she snuck another glance outside. "They're not here to scare us," she reminded. "They're here to kill Lydia." Sierra sucked in a breath sharply, once again realizing the reality of the situation. Stiles bit his lip to keep from interjecting because he knew Allison was right; if they didn't do something, Lydia was going to die. Frustrated, Allison wanted to scream because for some reason she couldn't bring herself to hit the call button.

Lydia and Jackson were still upstairs and honestly knowing she was with him, helped Sierra stay sane. Though he broke up with her and was acting like a major jackass, Sierra knew Jackson did care for the strawberry-blonde, whether he'd admit it or not and he wouldn't let Lydia go without a fight. Little did she know, the pair wasn't exactly having the best of talks. Lydia handed Jackson the key to his house, tears on her cheeks. "I hate you," she told him. "I hate you so much."