"I'm sorry."
Indigo's POV
I sat in Sheriff's office next to Stiles, picking up another fry and swiping it in ketchup. Stiles had invited me last moment to eat with him and his dad, probably to relieve tension of his recent restraining order.
Sheriff bit into his sandwich and immediately groaned. "Oh, what the hell is this?"
"Veggie burger." Stiles smiled proudly, popping open his salad container. I laughed and ate my fry.
"Stiles," His dad groaned. "I asked for a hamburger."
"Well, veggie is healthier." Stiles shrugged. "We're being healthy."
Sheriff sighed and went to open his fries, but instead found celery sticks. "Oh, hell, are you trying to ruin my life?"
"I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please?" Stiles scoffed. "And- tell me what you found."
"Indigo got fries." Sheriff grumbled, making me chuckle. He shook his head at his son.
"And no, I'm not sharing confidential police work with a teenager."
Stiles sighed, looking behind him at the board. I followed, seeing strings attached to photos of the victims.
"Is that it on the board behind you?" I asked. Sheriff shook his head.
"Don't look at that."
"Wha-" Stiles tried, sitting up in his seat as he tried to see above his dad's head.
"Avert your eyes." His dad moved in front of him.
"Just- it's, I see arrows-" He moved more around his dad. "Pointing to pictures."
"Okay, stop!" His dad sighed. "Fine, I found something."
Stiles grinned and sat back down normally, making me shake my head.
"The mechanic and the couple who were murdered. They all had something in common."
"All three?" Stiles asked.
"Yeah. You know what I always say." His dad nodded.
"One's an incident. Two's coincidence. Three's a pattern." Stiles recited.
"The mechanic, the husband, the wife- all the same age. All 24." His dad leaned back in his chair.
"Wait," Stiles eyebrows furrowed. "What about Mr. Lahey? I mean, Isaac's dad wasn't anywhere near 24."
"Which, made me think-" Sheriff shrugged. "Either, A: Lahey's murder isn't connected, or B: the ages were a coincidence."
We both nodded in silence.
"Until, I found this." Sheriff grunted, opening a drawer and pulling out a file. "Which would be C."
"Did you know that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Cameron?" He moved the file towards us, showing a big red stamp.
"Died in combat." I read.
"But, if he were alive today, take one guess at how old he would be." Sheriff raised his eyebrows.
"24." Stiles sighed.
Sheriff stood up and in front of the board, me and Stiles doing the same to look. There were so many papers, I didn't know where to look.
"All right, now what if same age means same class, I mean, did you think of that?" Stiles looked to his dad.
"Yeah, yeah. Well, I would've. I mean, look, I just got Lahey's file two hours ago." His dad scoffed.
"Two hours?" Stiles' eyes went wide. "Dad, people could be dying."
"Yeah, I'm aware of that." Sheriff snapped. "Thank you."
We rushed, pulling out several files and yearbooks, flipping through and searching.
"Okay, this is it." Stiles nodded, grabbing a blue file. "Class of 2006. They all went to Beacon Hills."
"Including Isaac's brother." Sheriff breathed out.
"Okay, so what if they knew each other?" I asked. "Two were married, so maybe they hung out."
"Well, they could have the same classes together." Stiles nodded. "They could've-"
Stiles stopped, looking to his dad who was staring at a paper.
"What?" He asked.
"Same teacher." His dad flipped the file, showing the list of class names and a picture of the teacher.
"Harris." I sighed.
"They were all in his class?" Stiles asked. Sheriff nodded.
"All four." He spoke. "Now, I don't know how Mr. Lahey fits in, but this, this is definitely a pattern. Hand me the 2006 yearbook. These names, I need faces."
Stiles quickly grabbed one, the yearbook and handed it over.
"Which ones?" I asked.
"Everyone in that Chemistry class. If the killer's not done killing-"
"One of them is next." Stiles finished. Sheriff nodded, picking up his office phone, hitting numbers on the dial.
"Yeah, it's Stilinski."
˛
Stiles drove both me and Scott to school the next morning, all of us concluding our gatherings from last night. Scott told us that if we catch the kanima, we also catch who ever's controlling it. And that the fear of water came from the master, not Jackson. Scott also told us tickets to the rave were $75.
"There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott asked, hopping out. Me and Stiles followed, stepping onto the concrete sidewalk.
"It's a secret show. There's only one way, and it's secret." Stiles scoffed, gripping his backpack.
"Hey."
We all turned around to find Matt, slightly pissed off as he clenched his jaw. I stepped closer to Stiles slightly.
"Anybody know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?" Matt scoffed.
"Nobody got hurt." Stiles shrugged.
"I- I had a concussion." Matt narrowed his eyes.
"Well, nobody got seriously hurt." Stiles corrected.
"I was in the E.R. for six hours." Matt snapped. Stiles huffed.
"Hey, do you wanna know the truth Matt? Your little bump on the head is about this high," he proceeded to place his hand on the ground. "On our list of problems right now."
Scott sighed. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine now." Matt shrugged off. "Saw you didn't get any tickets last night either."
"Are they still selling?" Scott asked.
"Uh, no, but I managed to find two online." Matt nodded. "You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone is going to be there." And he walked into school.
"I don't like him." Stiles huffed, before looking to Scott. "Hey, are you sure about this?"
"Last time, whoever was controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job, so what do you think he's going to do this time?" Scott asked. Stiles sighed.
"Be there to make sure it happens." He nodded.
˛
After school, we all went to Deaton's, to get ready for the rave. Apparently, Isaac was able to beat up some kid who was selling and get three tickets out of it.
Deaton pulled out a small bottle.
"Ketamine?" Scott questioned.
"It's the same stuff we use on dogs, just a higher dosage. If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down long enough to buy you some time."
He set it down on the metal table, before picking up a container with black sand. I think.
"This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier." Deaton held it up. "This parts for you, Stiles. Only you."
"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles lightly chuckled. "Can we maybe find a slightly less-pressured task for me?"
"It's from the Mountain Ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. The office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble." Deaton nodded.
Except me, apparently.
"Okay, so then what?" Stiles shrugged. "I just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"
Deaton nodded. "They'll be trapped."
"Doesn't sound too hard?" I nodded, looking to Stiles, who raised his eyebrows at me.
"Not all there is." Deaton spoke up. "Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be the spark, Stiles."
"If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that." Stiles cinched his eyebrows.
"Let me try a different analogy." Deaton nodded. "I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over.
"It can be pretty extraordinary what the force your own will can accomplish."
"Force of will." Stiles nodded.
"If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."
˛
Stiles picked us up later, in silence. His hands gripped the wheel as he drove. I watched him carefully from the front, Scott in the back. He didn't say a thing the entire ride.
We pulled up into the parking lot, Stiles slowly putting the jeep in park. He got out and opened the trunk, leaving me and Scott to getting out. We both walked to the back, seeing Stiles with a straight face pulling out the black bags full of Mountain Ash.
"You okay?" Scott finally spoke. Stiles didn't even look up.
"Yeah, why?"
"You didn't say anything the whole way here." I furrowed my eyebrows.
"No, I'm fine." He shrugged. Stiles looked to Scott, nodding bag.
"I can't remember?" Scott sighed. "Deaton said you have to do it alone."
"Okay, this plan is really starting to suck." Stiles huffed, grabbing the bag. Scott sighed, but paused, shaking his head.
"Not here. Not now." He mumbled, running off into the club. Stiles stammered, throwing his arms up.
"Wha- Scott! What am I suppose to-" He groaned, dropping a bag. "This plan officially sucks!"
I sighed. "Better start pouring now."
Stiles groaned and picked up the bag, ripping a hole in the bottom. Mountain ash poured out and he began walking, me next to him. I stuffed my hands in my pockets, mindlessly putting one foot in front of the other as I followed.
"You know, my arms are getting kind of tired-"
"Nice try, Stilinski." I laughed. He huffed and continued walking.
"You could've gone in with Scott." Stiles shrugged. "Now you're just stuck out here walking with me as I pour tree dust on the ground."
"No. . ." I shook my head. "Knowing myself, I probably would've messed up the plan somehow."
"I don't think so." Stiles shook his head. I tried to laugh lightly, shaking it off.
"You're not the one who's messing stuff up." I caught him mumbling. I looked to him confused.
"What are you talking about?"
"Ah-uh, nothing. Nothing. It's fine." He shook his head, looking down to the ash.
"Stiles." I pressed. He chewed his lip, before sighing, giving in.
"My dad- turned in his badge." Stiles grumbled.
"What, does that mean?" I asked.
"It means he got fired, Indigo." He huffed. "And, it's all because of me. The son- who, who steals police property and got a restraining order."
I held my breath, surprised. They really thought it was that bad?
"I'm sorry, Stiles."
"No, no, no." Stiles quickly said. I sighed.
"Stiles, really. I'm sorry that-"
"No, not that." He shook his head. "Look."
I looked to the ash, seeing the line stopped, the rest of the small amount in his hands. The other end up ahead.
Way, up ahead.
Stiles ripped out his phone, dialing Scott.
"Pick up, pick up." He hurried, before groaning.
"Scott? Look, I got, like, 50 feet of ash left and I'm out. Okay? So you got to get your wolf ass down here to help me because I don't know what to do. And- And we're standing out here and-"
Gunshots echoed and we both froze, Stiles clearing his throat.
"And- we're along and hearing gunfire and werewolves, and I'm- I'm standing here like a frickin' idiot with a handful of magic fairy dust. And I don't have enough!"
He hung up and put his phone back in his pocket. I hummed in thought, thinking of what to do. We didn't have enough. Stiles didn't-
Believe.
"He said you have to believe, right?" I looked to Stiles. His eyebrows raised.
"You need to believe." I nodded.
Stiles took a deep breath, nodding. "Okay, okay. Believe. I got to believe. I- I can do this."
"Come on Stiles." I nodded. "Believe. Just- just imagine it working, okay?"
Stiles inhaled, as he closed his eyes and walked forward. His hand slowly released and ash began falling. He kept walking forward, his hand shaking, causing a crooked line, but a line that kept going. I smiled as he reached closer and closer, his hand fully opening and dropping the rest to complete the line.
He exhaled and looked down, his eyes wide.
"Yes!" He yelled out, throwing his arms up. I laughed and clapped, almost jumping in place. The plan was working. There was a barrier.
"I did it!" Stiles screamed, running towards me. My smile grew and my eyes widened as he got closer, his arms wrapping around my waist and lifting me. He spun and I laughed loudly, grabbing his shoulders for balance. His arms loosened and I dropped, his hands steadying me. I relaxed and my laugh died down, looking up to him. His face was so close to mine, heaving out small breaths, a slight smile still on his face.
˛
We ran into the rave, finding the small room Erica and Isaac were keeping the knocked out Jackson. Stiles opened the door and both Erica and Isaac jumped, making both me and Stiles do the same.
"Just us! Just us!" He cried out, coming in. I followed. "Don't freak."
We looked to Jackson, who looked like he was sleeping in his chair. Stiles huffed.
"Is he okay?"
Isaac shrugged, walking over. "Well, let's find out."
Isaac showed his claws and went to swipe, but Jackson snatched his wrist and turned it over, snapping it. All with his eyes still closed. Isaac groaned in pain and stumbled back.
"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles pointed to everyone, all of us nodding.
"I thought the ketamine was supposed to knock him out." I furrowed my eyebrows.
"Yeah, well-" Stiles shrugged. "Apparently, this is all we're going to get. So let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight."
Jackson's eyes shot open, staring off into space.
"I'm here." A dark voice came from him. "I'm right here with you."
Stiles narrowed his eyes, crouching in front of him. "Jackson, is that you?"
"Us." He spoke in the same tone. "We're all here."
"Are you the one killing people?" Stiles asked.
"We are the ones killing murderers." The voice snapped.
"So- all the people who killed you so far-?" Stiles questioned.
"Deserved it." He snapped. Stiles sighed.
"So we've got a little rule book- that says you only go after murderers." Stiles spoke.
"Anything can break if enough pressures applied." The voice echoed.
"All right," Stiles took a deep breath. "So the people you're killing are all murderers then?"
"All. Each." It spoke. "Every one."
"Who did they murder?" I asked. He stiffened.
"Me."
Stiles looked back to me, confused. He looked back to Jackson.
"What? What are you talking about?" He asked.
"They murdered me. They. Murdered. Me." He snapped, his eyes the same reptilian shade.
My eyes widened, backing up. Stiles stood up quickly as the kanima looked forward at us baring it's teeth.
"More ketamine. The man needs more ketamine." Stiles nodded.
"We don't have anymore." Isaac spoke, showing him the empty syringe. Stiles' eyes widened.
"You used the whole bottle?" Stiles looked to Isaac.
Jackson stood up, his claws dripping the same liquid. I tapped Stiles quickly, getting his attention. He froze.
"Uh, okay. Out. Everybody out. Go, go, go, go." He rushed us out the door quickly, shoving us out. We all slammed against the door, keeping it shut.
"All right, somebody find something to keep against the door." Stiles quickly said, before the kanima bursted through the wall next to us. My eyes widened as it ran off.
˛
Me and Stiles left the rave, walking back out to the jeep. Derek ran up, looking at us, confused.
"Hey," Stiles breathed out. "Um, so we kind of lost Jackson inside, but it's-"
Isaac and Erica walked out, but slowed as they got near the barrier. Isaac looked up to Erica.
"Oh, my god. It's working." Stiles smiled. "This is-"
He grunted in victory. "I did something." He grinned pointing to himself.
My lungs screamed in pain, stinging and singing. I cried out, stumbling against the jeep. Everyone looked to me crazily as I coughed and wheezed.
Stiles ran over, his eyes frantically looking at me. "Indigo, what's wrong?"
"S-scott." I coughed. "Something, somethings wrong."
I coughed more, my entire body tiring. I groaned and slipped to the ground, feeling the tire of the jeep rub against my back. I was breathing quickly, heaving in and out, searching for oxygen.
A roar echoed from the building.
"It is." Derek furrowed his brows at me. "Scott. It's Scott."
"What? What about him?" Stiles hurried.
"Scott's dying!" I loudly croaked, gripping my throat.
"What?" Stiles looked back to me. "How do you know that?"
"Oh my god, Stiles! Just listen!" Derek shouted. "Break it!"
Stiles grunted but crawled over, waving his hands over the line, the ash separating. Derek sprinted off, rushing to Scott. I coughed, leaning over onto the ground to rest. I heard a muffled scratch of Stiles' jeans over to me and I saw his face over me.
"Indigo, what is happening?" He rushed, not sure what to do as he sat next to me.
Tears erupted as I looked to him, my head shaking as I tried to talk. He knew. I knew what was happening to Scott, and Stiles knew. This was it.
"I-I'm so-rry." I sputtered, my throat barely letting me speak any of that. My eyes fluttered strangely, and I knew by the worried features of Stiles, I wasn't looking good.
And then it was dark.
A/N::
uh oh, code red. stiles knows. she's something!!! uH OH WHATS GONNA HAPPEN are you WORRIED dun dun dun
okay love you guys! tell me what you think! like it so far?