After we leave the hospital, we make our way to the school. Derek went with Peter... Why? I have no idea. We run into the locker room and find Scott sitting on one of the benches.
"Dude. We have a huge problem."
"Trust me...I know."
*****
The next day, we're in the jeep. Scott somehow knows where Jackson is and that he's in some kind of trouble. Stiles turns into an empty parking lot and we see Jackson with Mr. Argent. Stiles pulls up beside them.
"Everything okay?" Scott asks.
"Hey, Scott." Mr. Argent greets. "Your friend here was having car trouble. We're just taking a look."
"Wow." Stiles comments.
"There's a shop right down the street." Scott nods past us. "I'm sure they have a tow truck."
"Yeah. You want a ride?" Stiles asks and Scott opens his door. "Hey, come on, Jackson. You're way too pretty to be out here all by yourself." I stop myself from laughing. Jackson nods and starts walking to the jeep.
"Hey, boys." Mr. Argent opens up the driver's door and cranks up Jackson's car. "Told you I knew a few things about cars." With that, he goes to his car and leaves.
"What? Are you following me now?" Jackson accuses.
"Yes, you stupid freaking idiot." Scott confirms, slamming the door shut. Stiles and I get out as well. "You almost gave away everything right there!"
"What are you talking about?"
"He thinks you're the second beta."
"What?"
"He thinks you're me!" Scott gets angry and elbows the jeep.
"Dude, my jeep."
"I can hear your heart beating from a mile away-literally! Now he thinks that there's something wrong, and now I have to keep an eye on you so he doesn't kill you too!" He goes to hit the jeep again, but Stiles stops him.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, okay, okay, okay. How about we just step away from Stiles' jeep?"
"You know what, this is your problem, not mine, okay? I didn't say anything, which means you're the one that's gonna get me killed...okay? This is your fault." Jackson shoves Scott against the jeep.
"Can we stop hitting my jeep?" Scott shoves Jackson back.
I get between the two boys, putting a hand on their chests. "Yo, all right, yo, guys, stop. All right?" After they both step back a little bit, I back up to stand beside Stiles.
"When they come after you...I won't be able to protect you. I can't protect anyone." Scott says the last sentence while looking at Stiles and me.
"Why are you looking at us?"
"You know what? Now you have to do it. Get me what I want, and I will be fine protecting myself."
"No, you won't! Just trust me--All it does is make things worse."
"Oh, yeah, really? You know, you can hear anything you want and run faster than humanly possible. Sounds like a real hardship, McCall."
"Yeah, I can run really fast now...except half the time, I'm running away from people trying to kill me! And I can hear things like...my girlfriend telling people that she doesn't trust me any more right before breaking up with me. I'm not lying to you! It...ruins your life."
Jackson shakes his head. "It ruined your life. You had all the power in the world, and you didn't know what to do with it. You know what it's actually like? It's like you turned 16 and someone bought you a Porsche when they should have started you out with a nice little Honda. Me? I drive a Porsche." Jackson walks back to his car and drives off.
"Can't we just think about letting someone kill him?" I jump a little when I look up and see my brother and best friend semi-glaring at me. "What? C'mon. You're gonna tell me that that thought hasn't crossed your mind at all? In the slightest?" They both shake their heads and Stiles lightly shoves me back toward the jeep.
*****
That night, we race down the stairs to get to the fridge. I almost get in arms reach and Stiles grabs the back of my shirt, pulls me back and opens the fridge.
"Ha ha ha!" He says as he drinks right out of the milk carton.
"Dude. C'mon!" Stiles freezes and backs up. "What?" I walk forward a little and I look into the dining room, seeing Dad at the table covered with papers. "Watcha doing?"
"Work."
"Anything we can help with?" Stiles asks.
"You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that would be awfully nice." Stiles sets the milk carton down, grabbing a glass and the jar of whiskey. We make our way to the table and sit down.
"Any leads?" Stiles goes to grab a piece of paper and Dad slaps his hand gently.
"Hey!"
"Ah...ha."
"You know I can't discuss that with you." Stiles opens the bottle. "Not too much." Stiles starts to pour the liquid into the cup, stops for a few seconds, then pours a little more in.
"Okay. There ya go, Dad."
"Thanks." Dad says and grabs the glass without looking.
"Bottoms up." And with that, Dad drinks the whole glass.
"You know, Derek Hale would be a whole Hale of a lot...Hale of a lot?"
"Hell of a lot?" I suggest.
"Hell. Yes. He would be a hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him."
"How do you not have a picture of him?" Stiles questions.
"It's the weirdest thing. It's like every time we try to a mug shot, it's like two...laser beams were pointing at the camera." Dad hands Stiles a mug shot of Derek. And it does look like laser beams were pointing at the camera, completely covering Derek's face.
"Nice." Stiles mumbles.
"Oh, my god. Ohh! God, that ounce hit me like a brick. And I have said way too much, and if you repeat any of that---"
"Dad...it's me."
I scoff. "Exactly. It's you."
Stiles glares at me and looks back at Dad. "I'm not gonna say anything. Come on."
"See, the thing is they're all connected." Dad continues. "I mean, the bus driver that got killed, he was an insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire."
Stiles leans over to look at the paper Dad was holding. "'Terminated under suspicion of fraud'."
"Exactly."
"Who else?" I question.
"The video store clerk who got his throat slashed...he's a convicted felon, history of arson."
Stiles shakes his head a little. "What about the other two guys, the guys that were killed in the woods?"
"Priors all over their records including..."
"Arson."
"So maybe they all had something to do with the fire." I suggest, mostly to Stiles.
"Another shot?" Stiles grabs the bottle again.
"No, no, no, no more."
"Dad, come on. You work really hard, right? You deserve it."
Dad sighs. "Oh, my god, I'm gonna have such a hangover."
Stiles laughs. "You mean you're gonna have such a good night's sleep." Stiles chuckles and starts to pour another glass. "I'm gonna have an eternity in the lowest circle of hell." I nod in agreement.
*****
Dad's drunk. As in drunk, drunk. He almost drops the glass and thankfully Stiles caught it.
"Oh...Stiles, there's just so many questions."
"Like what?"
"Like if Derek...wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire...then why start with his sister? I mean, she had nothing to do with it. Why make it look like some kind of animal did it?" Stiles and I glanced at each other. "When that cougar ended up in the parking lot...I checked with animal control. You know that instances of wild animal reports were up 70% over the past few months? It's like they're just going crazy, running out of the woods. I don't know."
"Or something's scaring them out."
"Ah..." He looked at both of us. "You know, I miss talking to you both. It's like we never have time---"
"Dad, you know, I have to make a phone call--I'm sorry. I'll be right back." Stiles stands up with his phone in hand.
"I do. I miss it. And I miss your mom." We quickly look at him. He's never talked about mom.
"What'd you say?" Dad went to go pour more whiskey and I grab his wrist gently, stopping him.
"Thanks."