I swear Peter was always managing to get out of every tough situation he was put in.
——————————
After trying to get a better explanation from Doctor Fenris, Isaac and I left empty-handed. As far as we could tell, he was basically clueless as to how Peter had escaped. All he could give us was that he thought maybe the fault in the electricity allowed him to escape his room.
We drove back to my house in silence, going inside and into the kitchen. I made up a couple of coffees, and I could feel Isaac's eyes on me.
"You used to hate coffee," he said quietly.
I finished pouring them quietly, before carrying them both into the lounge room and sitting them on the coffee table. Isaac and I sat side by side on the couch before I responded to him. "What am I going to do?"
"Keep living. What's changed?"
"Nothing," I said, standing up and running a hand through my hair roughly. "But that's just the point. Nothing has changed, Isaac. I still don't know any more about myself, and neither of my birth parents are here to tell me what I need to know!"
Isaac sat up a little straighter, keeping a calm demeanour. "I've lost my mum, brother and dad, and after that, I just felt so lost. I know it's not the same, but I do understand. And you know who helped me through that? Derek. The Pack. You."
I sat back down on the couch, taking a deep breath. "This just feels so much bigger than me. I need to know why he walked away."
"Why is this so important to you?" He asked quietly.
"Because no matter how much I sometimes hate the thought. . . he's still my father," I said softly.
"That I do understand."
With my elbows on my knees, my face fell into my hands. I hadn't been this honest with anyone about Peter - not even Stiles.
Maybe it was because Isaac knew less about Peter than the rest of my friends. Sure, we had told Isaac about what happened, but it was different. Stiles, Scott and Lydia had seen the murders and what he had done. They hadn't just heard about it or read it somewhere, they had been apart of it, each of them hurt by him in their own way.
I lifted my head so that I could speak again, but I wasn't able to make eye contact with Isaac. "He just left. He didn't even try to know me or be a father to me, and I just. . . I don't know why, but it hurts."
Isaac nodded in thought as he listened. "Didn't you say that in the memory your mum asked him to leave, though?"
"Yeah, she did," I confirmed. "I just want to know what his choice would have been if she didn't make him leave."
He put an arm around me, allowing me to lean into him. Even though Peter wasn't exactly paternal, part of me wished he had tried, or at least let me know that he existed. It felt like rejection.
"He might come back," Isaac offered gently. "You never know."
I closed my eyes, a heavy sigh escaping my lips. "It's Peter. I think I know."
♧♤♢♡
The buzzing of my phone woke me up later that night. I shifted as I opened my eyes. I was still resting on Isaac's shoulder, the boy asleep by my side.
Sitting up carefully so as not to wake him up, I pulled my phone out of my pocket. As soon as I answered Stiles started talking. "Riley, we just saw the Beast at the school."
"Oh, my god, are you okay?" I asked quickly. The sound of my panicked voice woke Isaac up. He tapped me on the shoulder, looking at me with a confused look on his face. I pulled the phone away from my ear, turning the speaker on.
"Isaac's here, too."
"We're all okay," he responded. "But it killed a whole bunch of people on one of the school buses. We're having a Pack meeting first thing in the morning in the library to compile information again."
I glanced over to Isaac, who nodded to say he would be there. "All right, we'll both be there. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you."
"Love you, too."
After I hung up the phone, Isaac got up from the couch, stretching his arms. "I should probably get going. Sounds like they're all headed home and Scott will probably be wondering where I am. Wouldn't want to start any rumours," he winked.
I rolled my eyes as I got up to hug him. "Thank you for convincing me to go to Eichen. Even if he wasn't there, it was a step in the direction I know I want to be going in. I need to talk to him, and I'm the only one who can make that happen."
"You know I'm always happy to help, Winters. Just say the word," he responded, putting his arms around me.
After a moment, I dropped my arms and stepped back. "So, I'll see you tomorrow morning at the library?"
He nodded, collecting his things before saying goodbye. I walked him to the door, opening it and watching him walk out. I was about to shut the door when he called my name.
"My bike is still at school."
Both of us sighed as we realised he was right; I had driven us both to Eichen and then to my house. "I totally forgot."
"If you can drop me at Scott's, I'll just grab a ride from him tomorrow to school," he offered.
I nodded in agreement, grabbing my keys and walking out to my car with Isaac. We were halfway to Scott's house, when I felt his eyes on me, thoughts running through his head.
"Are you going to tell Stiles about our trip to Eichen?"
"Of course," I answered. "We stopped keeping secrets from each other long ago. They nearly destroyed us after the Deadpool, and I'm not risking that again."
"I get that," he began to clarify. "But what if he doesn't want you to go after Peter?"
I thought about his question for a moment, considering what the answer might be. "Stiles knows how I feel about this, we've spoken about it. And if he thinks otherwise, then he'll just have to understand because no matter how this ends, I need to know."
When we arrived at Scott's house, Isaac grabbed his bag and opened the car door. "If you decide you don't want to wait for him to get back, you know I'm down to help you find him."
"I know," I smiled. "Thank you, Isaac."
♧♤♢♡
The next morning, we all met at the library as planned. What I hadn't expected, was or us to actually have moved forward in our investigation into the identity of the Beast.
"Mason said it's not just a transmitted frequency," Liam began to explain. "It's high-powered. Like it has to be a really strong signal."
"And that's causing it to shift?" Lydia asked from the spot across me.
We had managed to gather almost the whole Pack - Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Isaac, Liam and me. I wasn't sure where Malia was, though. I was worried it had something to do with her mother, but just like my strange need to know more about Peter, I wasn't able to judge her decisions.
Scott shook his head. "No. I don't think it's just that. Last night Argent said that it's getting smarter. What if the Dread Doctors are trying to make the Beast grow faster?"
"With frequencies?" Stiles asked from beside me, confused.
"No, by shifting. The frequency is just a trigger. The important part is when it shifts into the werewolf."
"Like Peter," I said softly.
"Right," Scott nodded, an empathetic look on his face. "Yeah, when Peter was an Alpha, he got stronger every full moon. Eventually, the burns healed and he was back to normal."
Liam sat up straighter, keeping up with everything Scott was saying. It was impressive how fast he had caught on to the whole werewolf life.
"So the Dread Doctors don't want to wait for the full moon."
"They want the Beast to be as strong as possible, as fast as possible."
"Because of Deputy Parrish," Isaac concluded.
Lydia immediately began to look concerned, "So if this is happening tonight, what are we going to do?"
"Uh, we've got one clue to go on," Stiles informed the group, holding up a finger, before digging into his bag. He produced an image of the footprints we had seen in the hospital that night.
They were similar to the ones I had taken on my phone, but they were clearer and had a ruler beside them so that the officers could figure out the shoe size.
Stiles pointed to the picture, continuing. "This came from the hospital. Whoever's lurking inside the Beast is wearing a size 10 of indeterminate make."
"What do you mean 'indeterminate'?" Isaac asked.
"Means, it's a partial print. Basically, it was all we were able to get considering all the fire, blood and carnage, Isaac."
Isaac nodded with pursed lips, staring down at the image like the rest of us. You could see the outline of the print, but there was no way of telling what sort of shoe it was.
"How many size 10s are out there?" Scott asked.
I lolled my head to the side, "Considering we're in a school? Multiple. To say the least."
"But, only one with Parrish's blood on the sole," Stiles pointed out.
"So are we going to try to get the game cancelled?" Liam asked something I never thought I would hear him say. He reminded me a lot of Scott in that sense.
"No, no, we're going to play, but we're just going to hope really hard that it doesn't turn into a blood-soaked massacre."
"Because we are always that lucky," Isaac added with a sarcastic smile.
Stiles turned to him, a bitter look on his face, "You're not helping, Lahey."
Liam continued with the conversation, for which I was grateful. "Okay, but, um. . . aren't we kind of missing out on a chance to catch this thing? We don't have the 'who', but we have the 'where' and the 'when'."
We all looked at each other, knowing that the boy was right. But, that also meant putting everyone on that field at risk of having their throats ripped out.
Which was what caused Scott to shake his head. "There are too many people."
"And we still don't actually know if it's going to happen. It just might end up being a regular lacrosse game," Lydia tacked on.
"Lyds, when is it ever a 'regular lacrosse game'?" I asked my best friend.
"But, it's possible right?"
"Sure," I nodded. "Like, the tiniest chance ever. But, sure, it's possible."
"So we're still getting the game cancelled?" Liam asked.
Scott picked up his things, preparing to leave. "We're getting the game cancelled."
We all followed his lead, standing up from the table and grabbing our bags. I put my hand in Stiles' as we left, trying to think if this would actually work.
♧♤♢♡
Stiles and I left school, heading to the station to talk to his dad. There was no way we would be able to explain this to the principal and he would never consider cancelling a lacrosse game for charity.
The Sheriff frowned as he gathered his things, "Guys, I'm- I'm not so sure I actually have that authority."
Stiles opened the door for his father, "You're the County Sheriff. You can't cancel a high school lacrosse game?"
"It's a charity game which generates tens of thousands of dollars," the Sheriff reminded his son as he walked through the door. "I'd have to go to the school board with evidence of a credible threat."
I walked to keep up with them both, "Sheriff, you know we wouldn't ask if it weren't important."
Stiles nodded rapidly, "A giant werewolf might rampage across the field killing people. That's an incredible threat."
"Look, we're going to have a presence a the game already," the Sheriff sighed. "I'll double it. I'll triple it."
"Triple. . . Dad, quadruple it. Ocuple it."
"There's always a person who could forfeit the game. . . the Coach," the Sheriff stated.
The man's son shook his head, "Not when you're stuck with a substitute who's strictly by the book."
"What about Finstock?"
"Rehab for the last seven months."
I shrugged, turning to my boyfriend. "Then I guess we'll just have to convince him to come back."
♧♤♢♡
Less than an hour later Scott, Stiles and I were walking through the door of the Stepping Stones rehab centre. We barely walked in the door, when we spotted Coach sitting on a couch.
"What's he doing?" Stiles asked as we approached.
He looked dead, laying there with his eyes wide open and head on the back of the couch. We walked over quietly so as not to spook him, since we didn't really know what he was doing.
Scott and Stiles sat down on either side of Coach, while I took a seat on the coffee table in front of him beside a checkerboard. I leaned forward, waving a hand in front of him, but nothing happened.
"Hey, Coach?" Scott said in a hushed voice. "It's Scott, Stiles and Riley."
Stiles gave a go at waving his hand this time, sitting back in confusion. "Coach, you're in rehab. You didn't have a lobotomy."
"Coach, come on," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We just wanna talk."
Stiles sat shaking his leg, growing frustrated. Shifting forward, he went to move a piece on the checkerboard beside me. Just as he was about to move something, Coach grabbed his arm.
"Don't you touch it," he growled, dropping the act as he glared at the boy. "I've got Nurse Gonzalez by the balls of the last three moves and she knows it."
He laughed to himself as he sat up straight, turning to look at the three of us.
"Let it go. You're checking out of this place now," Stiles told him.
Coach shook his head with a chuckle, "Not a chance."
"Okay, Coach. But, we know you're fine," Scott reminded him.
Coach was quick to shush him, looking around to make sure that no one had heard what the boy had said. Apparently, leaving wasn't something he wanted to do.
"I have a debilitating disease," the man informed us, using quotations on the word 'disease'.
Stiles rolled my eyes and I shook my head. Sometimes, this man was unbelievable.
"Coach, please. You don't have a disease, so you need to-"
"I don't need to do anything, Winters," he said bitterly. "It's called, "I'm not going to take another arrow to my stomach-phobia." Look it up."
Stiles looked away awkwardly, remembering that he was the reason Coach had ended up with that arrow in his stomach. Technically, it had been the Nogitsene, but in Stiles' head, he was guilty enough.
"Nobody's shooting arrows at anyone, okay?" Scott told him in a low voice. "We just need you to coach the charity game."
Coach scoffed, his eyebrows pulling together as he glanced at the three of us. "Charity? Not a chance."
"How exactly have you been conning them into letting you stay here?" Stiles asked the man; something which I was curious about also.
"I, uh. . . I have relapses. It's. . . it's serious. I've had seven of them."
Scott counted quickly in his head, brows pinched. "So once a month?"
"Yeah, you see, uh, every time they are just about to discharge me," he shrugged, lolling his head to the side, "I relapse."
"And not one of these nurses or doctors has picked up on this little routine?" I asked incredulously.
He whipped around to face me, "I have phenomenal health insurance. So why don't you guys get the hell out of here. I hate charity games. They're meaningless."
Stiles' mouth fell open in shock, "I don't think the charities would agree."
Coach sighed as if the statement were absurd.
"What's it for this year?"
"Cancer," Scott replied with an edge of anger.
"For or against?"
"Against!" I hissed.
"Deeply against," Stiles clarified.
Coach shrugged, "Yeah, okay, well, I'm deeply not interested."
He gestured to the door, telling us to leave.
We didn't go anywhere though. Coach was our only chance at getting this game cancelled, and I was honestly reaching the point where I was ready to drag him out. Whether he was conscious or not, was up to him.
Scott went for a gentler approach, still hoping to convince the man. "Coach, we need you."
The man smiled, placing a hand on each of my friends' shoulders, patting them. "I will never coach there again."
"That's okay. Because we don't actually need you to coach the game," Stiles informed him.
I nodded, "There's only one thing we need of you, and that's to forfeit."
Coach fell silent, seemingly considering what we were saying.
"Coach," Scott said softly, drawing the man's gaze. "Please. Then you can go and coach wherever you want. We just need this one thing from you."
♧♤♢♡
"Can't say I don't love seeing you in that uniform," I said, biting my lip softly.
I was sitting on Stiles' bed, watching as he pulled his lacrosse jersey on across the room. I loved seeing the boys play. I got a bit overly enthusiastic sometimes, but the games were always good fun.
Stiles did a little spin with his hands up, showing off the uniform. I rolled my eyes with a laugh, standing up and walking over to him.
"Any luck getting in touch with Malia?" He asked as I put my arms around him.
I shook my head, sighing, "Nothing. It's like she doesn't trust me."
"It's not that, Ri," he said as he put his arms around me also. "She probably just thinks you would stop her from going after her mum."
His statement immediately made me think of my situation with Peter. Taking a breath, I gathered my courage to ask what I had been worried about. "Would you? If you were me, would you stop Malia?"
Stiles' face fell as he thought over the question. "The Desert Wolf is dangerous, so yeah, maybe."
His answer made me want to bury what I'd done and never tell him, but we promised no secrets.
"Isaac and I went to Eichen looking for Peter. I wanted some answers from him, but he escaped the night we broke Kira out."
Stiles' arms dropped from around me as he took a step back, eyes shifting as he looked down at me. "You did what?"
"He was in Eichen and behind plate glass, so I figured it would be okay, "I told him. "But he was gone."
He was quiet for a moment before he spoke, his voice just above a whisper. "Why didn't you bring me with you?"
I pursed my lips as I closed the space between us again, taking his hands in mine. "You know I would've taken you with me, Stiles, but it was a spur of the moment thing."
"And you really want to find him?"
"I need answers, Stiles," I responded quietly.
There was a moment of silence where I thought he might walk away, before he just pulled me closer, embracing me tightly. "Alright. Then I'll help you find him. And I don't care if it's a spur of the moment or the middle of the night. Call me, and I'll be there."
"You don't think it's too dangerous looking for Peter?" I asked against his chest.
"Of course I do. But I also know that me saying anything won't change your mind," he sighed. "And if getting these answers about you and your mum from Peter gives you peace of mind, then fine."
"Thank you," I smiled, reaching on my toes to kiss him.