Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Shape Shifted Part 3

Scott practically ran out of the office, and I was close behind. I was running even though I had no idea why.

"Scott! What's going on?" I asked next to him. He didn't answer and we burst through the front doors. There was the Sheriff's car sitting in front of us. I froze when I saw Isaac in the backseat turn his head to look at us.

I ran a few more feet to, I don't know, talk to him or something and stopped when Sheriff started the car. I wanted to jump on the roof and claw through it so Isaac and I could run off to safety, but this was Stiles' dad and I couldn't do that to him. Sheriff drove off and when he made a slight left, Isaac looked away from me.

I sighed and turned to see Scott, with the same expression, frown and turn back to go inside. As he did, Derek pulled up in his sleek black car to yell out for us.

"Get in. Both of you," Derek said shortly.

"Are you serious?" Scott asked.

"You did that to Isaac. That's your fault," I said unhappily. Derek looked down with annoyance.

"I know that. Now get in the car and help me."

"No, I've got a better idea. I'm gunna call a lawyer. Because a lawyer might actually have a chance at getting him out before the moon goes up," Scott said angrily, walking down the steps to meet up with you at Derek's window.

"Not when they do a real search of the house," Derek grumbled. What did he mean by that? Was there some kind of damning evidence against Isaac?

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Whatever Jackson said to the cops, what's in that house is worse. A lot worse." Derek sounded genuinely worried, which made me nervous. What has Isaac been through?

I turned my back to Derek to give the illusion of privacy, even though I knew he could hear every word I was saying.

"I have to help Isaac, and you have to at least check it out. Don't punish him before he's been convicted," I said metaphorically, though it was less metaphorical now. Behind me, Derek threw open the passenger door for us to get in. I glanced at it before looking at a debating Scott. "Please."

Scott nodded and I got into the back and Scott in the front with Derek. Derek drove off in the direction of Isaac's house.

I'm not going to lie—part of the reason I wanted to go was, yes, to help Isaac, but also because I knew close to nothing about him and riffling through him home and his room would provide some insight. I was naturally a snoopy person. I like to know things, and I find information any way I can.

It was hours later when Derek allowed us to see the house. We'd been doing a bunch of other stuff first. Stuff that was relevant but annoying to do.

Scott had a flashlight, which I didn't need with my superior vision, but he did, apparently. The house had a lot of photos of a woman, most likely Isaac's mom. There were few pictures of Isaac, though, which seemed odd.

"I told you he didn't do it," I grumbled to Scott.

"You also told me he wasn't a werewolf." He gave me a pointed look that I frowned at. "If Isaac didn't kill his dad, then who did?"

"I don't know yet," Derek answered. We started walking down a hall.

"Then how do you know he's telling the truth?" Scott continued.

"Because I trust my senses," Derek said.

"And it's Isaac. Have you seen the way he used to carry himself? He's not a violent guy," I mused aloud, running my finger down a long desk.

"And it's a combination of them. Not just your sense of smell." Derek stopped and stared down at Scott. It took me a second to catch up. When I did I made a face at the ground while Scott stood there awkwardly.

"You... saw the lacrosse thing today." Scott didn't even say it as a question because Derek's face already said his answer. And his disapproval.

"Yeah," Derek said stiffly, making Scott roll his eyes.

"Did it look that bad?"

"Yeah. It did," I answered for him. Derek put an arm around Scott and squeezed his shoulder roughly as he made us continue to walk. He led us to a door that had stairs going down into a dark basement. A basement which I did not want to enter. I could feel everything whoever was down here felt, kind of like an imprint. The stone, the wood, the metal, all of it remembered the horrors of the actions against (probably) Isaac. The feelings were too dark down there. Rage and terror and despair were only a few of the prevalent emotions, and none of the others were remotely happy feelings. It tasted like spoiled milk.

"You wanna learn?" Derek said behind us. "Start now." Scott and I shared a look before he went down the stairs first, me close behind. When the feelings fully hit me about a third of the way down, I felt like I was suffocating. I could smell Isaac down here. I could smell the amount of terror he underwent on what seemed like a regular basis. It was so dense in here that it seemed to physically darken the room.

"What's down there?" Scott asked up to Derek.

"Motive."

"And what am I looking for?"

"You'll figure it out. Use your senses," I said, already knowing exactly where to head to. It was where all of the emotions were originating from. And where it was made my heart shatter.

"You know what we're looking for?" Scott asked.

"I knew the second he opened the door. But I've had time to learn." I didn't give him any clues as to where to go, only following him while he stepped down completely into the basement. He touched an antique chair that squeaked loudly as it twisted. There was a creepy clown doll sitting on it that I made a face at.

"What happened down here?" I asked.

"The kind of thing that leaves an impression," Derek replied ominously. There was a smashed TV on the ground. The top left corner was completely busted in and it almost looked like something (or someone) was throw into it. I shook my head at it sadly.

On the floor next to it was four scratch marks, but it was made by human nails, which only made it sadder.

Scott seemed lost, so I helped him. "Close your eyes, Scott. What do you feel? What do you taste? What do you smell?" He did as was told and I watched him from his side.

"Fear. A lot of it."

"Where is it coming from?"

Scott took a moment to answer, but he pointed. "There."

"I thought so, too. Let's check it out," I said. He nodded and we walked up to an old, but very large ice box freezer. Scott grabbed the two-inch padlock, which was thankfully unlocked, and suddenly Derek flashed on a light right next to us.

"Open it," Derek said. Scott slowly took out the lock out and dropped it to the ground. Whatever was in this chest was going to be awful. I almost didn't want to look, but I had to. Stupid me, I needed to know.