"Time eats all his
children in the end."
Max tapped his fingers against the wall behind him, for the millionth time in his life not giving his full attention to what was going on. Even though they were currently in Eichen House waiting to see Meredith, his mind was still back in the sheriff's station, still trapped on that one name on the dead pool. He could only assume that Nathan Lawless was Liberty's brother, and given that the boy's sister was a supernatural, it matched up.
He was debating wether or not to send Liberty a message on her Instagram account, but he wasn't sure if it would help or not. Given that his own sister had tried to murder the girl less than a month ago, there was a good chance the brunette would think it was a plan to trick her into panicking. The other side of things was that the message would probably get sent directly into her requests, meaning it might not be read until it was too late.
But a gut feeling made him more inclined to reaching out, worried that something would happen to the boy, knowing that he could have prevented it. Nathan looked to be quite young in the photos, fifteen years old at a push. If he was to be attacked by an assassin, Max knew he would never be able to forgive himself.
So, it was on that singular fact alone, that he knew he would have to send Liberty a message. Maybe it would be a good idea to send the older girl— the one in most of the photos— a warning too, just to be on the safe side.
A voice erupted from down the hallway, loud and heavy footsteps following. "What the hell are we running here? A bed and breakfast? You do not just open the door for anyone with a badge," he scolded the other nurse, snatching the keys out of his hand.
"We need to talk to Meredith Walker," Parrish spoke up, trying to diffuse the hostility. By the groan that Stiles had let out when he seen the man, he could gather that he was a dick. "It involves a murder investigation."
"You can talk to her all you want but these three, especially that one—" he pointed a finger in Stiles' face, "—they're outta here."
Yep. He was a dick. "They're crucial witnesses in an ongoing investigation. I wouldn't have brought him here if it wasn't absolutely crucial."
Brunski took a challenging step forward, right up into Parrish's face. His intimidation tactics would have to be a lot better than that if he thought it was going to make him back down. "Okay, Deputy. How about you come back with a court order and then I'll listen." He turned to Stiles, stalking towards him. "As for you, Mr Stilinski. How about you come back with payment in full. That's right. Daddy may be the sheriff, but he's late on the bills. I guess those government jobs aren't as reliable as what they used to be, huh?"
Brunski seemed to pause, his chest heaving up and down like he couldn't breathe. Lydia cast a glance down at Max, nudging Stiles in the ribs when she saw the boy's eyes glowing a bright green.
Stiles grabbed Max by the elbow, turning him around so Parrish wouldn't see what was happening. The last thing they needed was to try and explain that when he himself had no idea what was going on. "Max. What are you doing?" Brunski was starting to tense up, almost as if he was on the verge of having a mental breakdown. Stiles snapped his fingers in front of his friend's face, shaking him as he tried to get him to stop whatever psychological mind thing he was doing.
"But they do help when you need a favour. Like, how a month ago Canaan P.D. helped you get home after blowing 0.1 on a breathalyser," Jordan shrugged nonchalantly, smirking in triumph as the man's face faltered. He hadn't realised the severity of what was happening, just assuming that Brunski was getting angry. It didn't matter though, because the warden was back to normal, slightly shaken up at the least.
Max blinked rapidly, trying to figure out where he was. Lydia was staring at him with a trace of concern on her features, a brow raised in a way that asked what was wrong. He shook his head silently, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. If he was being completely honest, he didn't actually know. He remembered Brunski making fun of Stiles' family, and then all of a sudden he was just... gone. It was like he was inside the man's head or something, playing with his emotions and forcing him to replay an unwanted memory on repeat— although, it hadn't been the same as the time he had forced Jennifer Blake to become trapped in a memory.
"All right," Brunski smiled aggressively, apparently unaware that he had been mentally attacked by an empath. Snatching the keys out of his belt loop, he shoved the bunch of them into Stiles' chest. "I'm not against a little quid pro quo. Not at all, not at all."
Stiles handed the keys over to Jordan, patting him on the back. "You. You, I like you. I'm gonna keep you."
Max snorted loudly, running a hand through his hair. "Keep him? What is he, a fucking puppy?"
After a few minutes of rattling, Parrish found the key, unlocking the door. The piece of wood made a concerning complaint as it was opened, four people stepping into the small premises.
Déjà vu washed over Max, remembering the times that he visited Jade in the mental health facility she had been sent to when she was fourteen. The rooms were almost identical, with two beds on either side. Realistically, the duvet was a paper thin sheet that wouldn't even have a chance of keeping itself warm. There was a desk separating the two, heavy rain pelting against the window that was situated directly above it.
Meredith was sitting quietly on one of the beds, wringing her hands together anxiously. She looked to be the only occupant in the room, not having to share with somebody other than herself. Her eyes followed the three teenagers as they sat down on the bed opposite her, trying to explain that they needed the third cipher key. She shook her head, repeating over and over again that she simply couldn't tell them.
"Meredith, what do you mean you can't tell us?" Lydia sighed in exasperation, getting irritated with the woman. Did she not understand that people were going to die? Real people, with families and lives. It was a simple trade; she told them the cipher key and people would get to live.
"We just need the third key. You can give it to us in numbers, letters, hieroglyphs. Whatever you want," Stiles explained, waving his hands about as he spoke.
"I can't."
Lydia laughed tiredly, feeling herself become more impatient by the second. "Then why did you give us the second key?"
"I wanted to help. That's what I want to do, I want to help."
"Great! So help us now, okay? Give us the third cipher key," Lydia stated, brushing a strand of hair back as she leaned forward.
Max laid a hand on Lydia's wrist, gently pulling her back to sit normally. "You're scaring her," he whispered, his eyes unintentionally glowing a bright green. Meredith was a fragile woman, really, and they needed to take it easy. If they pushed her too far, there was a good chance she would topple over the edge. That would be good for no one, meaning they definitely wouldn't find out the third cipher key. Parrish repeated the warning, leaning against the door frame.
"Things have changed. I'm sorry, I can't. He— he doesn't want me to."
"He?" Stiles questioned, unsure wether the banshee had realised what she had let slip. "Who's he?"
"Meredith, who doesn't want you to tell us the third cipher key?" Lydia asked, refusing to back down. They were too close to give up, the finish line in view.
"The Benefactor."
Max bit his tongue, trying not to scream when a pain shot through his stomach. Someone had gotten hurt, yet he wasn't sure who it was. Stealing Stiles' sun glasses off the top of his head, he shoved them onto his face, trying to twist Meredith's emotions. Maybe some reassurance would work, or relaxation.
"What's his name?" Lydia was pacing the room now, bumping into objects every few seconds. Meredith was hands down the most annoying person she had ever met, and that was saying a lot, given that she had dated Jackson for well over a year. The only response she was getting to all of her questions was a shake of the head. "You could just tell us his name!"
Stiles rubbed his temple, trying not to snap at the woman. Max and Parrish seemed to be the only two who were being careful with the woman's mental state, afraid to push her past her limits. The deputy apparently had an amazing patience level, whereas Max was an empath, so it came naturally to him. Given that both his mom and his sister suffered with their mental health ever since he could remember,
that played a factor into it, too. "Alright, you're shaking your head. Does that mean you don't know? Or you don't want to help us?"
Meredith's eyes widened in a panic, her body rocking backwards and forwards in a self-soothing manner. "I can't— I can't help anymore," she stammered.
"How do you know about him?" Lydia pushed. She couldn't let go of this, no matter how much she wanted to. She couldn't let another person die, not when there was a chance she could save them.
"Lydia, stop it! You're scaring her," Max begged, feeling a panic attack start to wind it's grip around him. What made it ten times worse was that there was only one exit and Parrish was standing directly in the way, leaving him cornered with no escape route. Everyone's conversations started to overlap, voices raising.
"Meredith, a lot of people are going to die if you don't tell us."
"Guys, I think we should leave it."
"I don't— I don't know."
Meredith was starting to have a panic attack of her own, viciously swinging her head side to side as she tried to breathe. Max was on his feet in a second, a gloved hand wrapped around the woman's hand as he tried to calm her down. It wouldn't work, skin to skin contact needed for it to thrive. He couldn't take off the glove, not being able to face another life-altering vision. He backed away when she started to freak out, covering his ears as his chest constricted together.
Meredith screamed at the top of her lungs, blood dripping from Lydia's ears at the noise. A banshee's scream was fatal, in ways.
~
Jade drove along the road to the preserve, pulling into the forest and abandoning her car there. It definitely wasn't the safest place to leave it, but her plan was straight-forward enough, so she could only hope that it was completed quickly. After her mini-breakdown in the school, she wanted to pretend like it hadn't happened. She wanted things to go back to normal, whatever that was.
Coach had wrote her a note that explained why she wouldn't be in the rest of her classes, playing it off as a stomach ache and giving her the rest of the day to herself. She was preparing to go straight home, run a bath and then settle down in bed with Fern to watch a movie and eat chocolate. God was quite obviously against her having two minutes to relax, considering her objectives were constantly being interrupted or ruined.
She had been grabbing a few last minute things from her locker when Mason approached her in the hallway, asking if she had seen Liam. The beta had apparently went missing when the pair were on their run this morning and he hadn't been seen since. She told him not to worry about it, but was doing the complete opposite herself. Her mind had went to the worst case scenario straight away, fearing that an assassin had gotten to him.
A locater spell had led her to the preserve, map giving her insight that she wasn't too far away. She had never been this far into the woods, only ever on the outskirts with Stiles, Scott and her brother. As she walked, the dot on the map grew closer until she was hovering right beside it.
A brick well stood in front of her, gushing water echoing from inside of it. Liam called out once more, becoming desperate in his pleas for help. He could already feel his grip on the wall slipping, bound to fall back down in a few seconds. "Jade?" he squinted, letting out a sigh of relief at the blonde peeking her head through the hole above him. "Oh, thank God."
Jade lay flat on the ground, hooking her feet into a branch and reaching a hand out for Liam to grab onto. She hauled him up and out, surprised at how light he was, given that he had no physical strength left in his body. There was a gaping hole in his shirt, blood turning sticky from Garrett's cut earlier in the morning.
"It looks like wolfsbane," Jade observed, tilting her head at the yellow substance that was still oozing from the wound. "This is gonna hurt," she warned, raising a hand in front of her. Burning was one of the most effective ways to get wolfsbane out of a werewolf's system, but it also happened to be one of the most painful.
"It won't hurt as much as that did."
Liam backed away in fright from the woman that had just knocked Jade unconscious, not getting far when the wolfsbane started to take it's full effect, his stomach starting to hurt even more.
Calliope Mason stood up straight, a fire extinguisher in her hand as she blew a stray piece of hair out of her face. She laughed hollowly, kneeling down to eye level with the boy. "Don't worry, I don't need you. You're worth a lot of money, but things will just get messy if I do that . I can't have you ruining my plan, now can I? Not yet, at least. You can wait until she's dead first."
Another body slumped to the floor, Liam knocked out, too.
Jade stirred slightly, regretting even the slightest of movements when it felt as if someone had sliced a sharp knife through her skull. It would be easier to invest in a helmet at this point, because the amount of concussions she was getting was becoming seriously ridiculous. A throbbing pressure weighed her head down, forcing her to use an incredible amount of energy to hold herself up.
"You're awake! Good!" Calliope clapped her hands together, opening the passenger door to Jade's car and peeking her head through. The girl tried to move her arm, not yet realising that she was tied to her seat. "No, you're not going anywhere, just relax. Do you like history? I feel like you do, I definitely get that vibe from you. The Salem Witch Trials, 1962. Does it ring any bells? What most people don't realise is that the accused actually weren't burnt at the stake. That was false, a rumour that was spread about."
"What are you—" Jade mumbled, finally being able to make out the face of her attacker. Her vision was doubled, two Calliope shaped silhouettes staring back at her as she tried to understand what the woman was saying. This was confusing, all of the words being too hard to process.
Calliope held a hand out, humming in disapproval. "Don't cut across people when they're speaking. The moral of the story is, although witches weren't burnt at the stake, you're going to be the exception." She threw gasoline directly onto the girl's lap, making sure there was no way she would get out unscathed. Witches were slippery things— especially the Pierce ones. They knew how to escape death better than any other creature and she didn't plan on letting that happen today.
"Why are you doing this?" Jade slurred, faintly being able to connect the dots to what was happening. She struggled to get out of her restraints, but the pain in her head took the attention away from the severity of the situation. She was frazzled, in a daze that left her fading in and out of consciousness.
Calliope's face lit up, almost as if she had been dying to be asked that very question. "Did you really think you could get away with destroying my entire career? There's consequences for what you done and it's about time you witches paid for it. Your kind always get away with what you do, no one ever getting punished. But do you wanna know what makes it even better; I get paid for doing it! I'm gonna make sure you burn in the depths of hell. Tell Elizabeth that the sprites were asking for her."
An orange flame illuminated the woman's face as she slammed the door closed with a bang, throwing the lighter onto the car that had been drenched in gasoline pre-arrival.
Suddenly, the pain in her head didn't seem to hurt as much as the one that was all over her body, quite literally lighting her skin on fire. The blood-curdling scream that escaped from her mouth was unlike any she had ever uttered before, not even coming close to a comparison when Allison had died. The pain in her head pulsated as she thrashed about in her seat, desperate to get out of the death contraption.
Her existence was nothing but a raging fire that lit ever organ in her body alight. She could do nothing but scream, mentally freezing, unsure what to do. It seemed that her magic was useful in every situation apart from those that involved death.
Her legs broke free from the restraints, arms still tied tightly to the handbrake. She was on the verge of accepting that this was how she would die, when her survival instincts finally jumped into gear.
Her throat was killing her from screaming, the inhalation of smoke not helping. With the right amount of tugging, the fire burned through the ropes on her hands, setting her free. Both doors were locked, and there was no way she could open them, even if she had her car key. The next best option was to kick out the window. It felt as if her skin was melting from her body, stripping her from anything that wasn't bone. What if when they finally found her body, it would be too charred and disfigured that she would be labelled as a Jane Doe? Stripped of her identity, your name, the thing that solidified who you were as a person.
The heel of her boots collided with the glass. A slight crack. Another hit. A scream of pain as a flame snuck up her neck, licking at her skin. Cracks were starting to appear, both in the window and in Calliope's plan. A few more kicks and she was done, she would be out, just keep going.
The glass shattered.
She didn't have enough time to clear the window of any shards that would cut her, half crawling and half jumping her way out. The flames were engulfing the car, tearing at her body while she cried out in agony.
A hand wrapped around her wrist, yanking her from the vehicle and to safety. Gunshots fired off in the distance, someone shooting after Calliope, who was fleeing the scene of attempted murder.
"Stop, make it stop! Christ, just kill me already, make it stop!" Jade didn't know who had pulled her out of the wreckage, and frankly she couldn't bring herself to care. Every inch of her was in excruciating, debilitating pain. Death would be a better alternative to this.
"Ring Deaton! Ring him and tell him we need help!" Scott screamed, begging for Chris Argent to abandon going after the sprite and just come back and help. Logically, he knew they should have been taking her to a hospital, but there was a chance that her magic would be unpredictable and would just lead her to hurting herself even more. "You're gonna be okay. Stay awake. No, stay awake, stay awake. Liam! Go find my phone and ring my mom, tell her to meet us there! Chris, get your car! Now!"
Scott was alarmed beyond anything he had ever experienced before, desperately trying to remember the burn first aid course he had taken. These were most definitely second degree burns, but didn't look bad enough to be third degree ones. He had no idea how she had done it, but Jade looked to be one lucky girl. It must have been the darkness that ran in her veins.
He lay her down on the floor, trying to keep her still as she tossed about in pain, hysterically screaming. He gently— but quickly— pulled the rings off her fingers, doing the same with her bracelets and necklaces. Burned areas swelled dramatically fast, so he needed to make sure to get all tight clothing off.
He pulled at her jacket, testing to see if it was stuck to her skin. The denim came off with ease, her shirt following. He cringed at the burns on her skin, hot, blisters covering her shoulders, stomach and neck. You were supposed to take off clothing— he assumed it was to prevent it melting to the skin any more—, so long as it wasn't already stuck to the skin. He didn't want to strip her of all her modesty, knowing he would be in for a slap around the ear if he did.
"You'll be okay, it's okay. Jade— Jade? Why aren't you breathing? Oh God."
A/N
I'm gonna go back and rewrite the first half of this (eichen house scene) at some point bc i'm not particularly happy with it 🫶😭