**Disclaimer** Sigh, still not the owner of Teen Wolf, and still not the owner of Dylan O'Brien. Double disappointment.
The entire ride to the abandoned warehouse was silent, even after we picked up Scott. Stiles was always the one to spark up conversation, but he seemed lost in something else. Tension filled the jeep and neither Scott or I knew what to do about it. It wasn't like Stiles to be so quiet.
We pulled up and got out as a cluster of people walked in through a back entrance. Scott helped pull me out of the back seat, where I had been forced to once we picked him up. Normally I would have said something about the girlfriend having to sit in the back, but I held my tongue. Stiles just didn't seem in the mood.
Scott opened the back of the jeep and Stiles reached in to pull out the bag of mountain ash Deaton had given us. "You okay?" He asked Stiles.
"Yeah, why?" Stiles answered.
"You just didn't say anything the whole way here," said Scott.
"Nah, I'm fine," said Stiles. Scott and I exchanged glances. "Just grab the other bag,"
"I can't, remember? Deaton said you had to do it alone," said Scott.
Stiles groaned. "Okay this plan is really starting to suck."
Then, something seemed to catch Scott's attention. He took a step forward and lifted his nose into the air. "No, not here. Not now,"
Without so much as an explanation, he ran inside of the warehouse. "What? Scott! What are we supposed to - " But Scott was already gone before he could finish. Stiles huffed and glanced at me. "Plan officially sucks."
"Come on, Stiles," I said, placing my hand on his arm. "You can do this,"
I was really beginning to regret my decision to wear the wedges now. I've been following Stiles around the perimeter of the building as he pours out a line of the mountain ash. My feet are killing me. I have to be sure to keep somewhat of a distance between me and the powder, because Deaton said it would have negative effects on me just as it would a werewolf.
"So, are you going to tell me what's bothering you?" I asked Stiles, following a few steps behind him.
"Nothing's bothering me," he said coolly.
"You didn't even mention my outfit," I said. "Actually, you haven't really said anything at all. I can tell something's wrong."
"Do you want me to say something about your outfit?"
"No - yes...no! No I want you to tell me why you're lying to me!" I said, becoming flustered. He was silent as he continued to pour a line of mountain ash around the border of the building. "Stiles!" He was still unresponsive. I finally grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him to face me. "Stiles, please, you can tell me. You can tell me anything,"
He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and averted his eyes from mine. I was pleading with him at this point. I need to know what's bothering him so I can do something about it. I'll do whatever it takes to make him feel better.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said, gruffly.
He moved to turn back around but I tugged his shoulders back. "Stiles, please. I hate seeing you like this,"
He folded his lips into a thin line and still refused to meet my eyes. Shaking his head he repeated, "I said I don't want to talk about it."
He went back to pouring out the line and I felt my heart sink in my chest. I let him get a few steps ahead of my before saying, "Did I do something?"
It may have been a stupid question, but I had to ask. I had to know. I'll fix it, whatever it is. I just need him to tell me so I can stop coming up with the worst possible scenarios in my head. It's starting to get to me.
I heard him sigh. "No, it's not you, Emma,"
I bgean walking again, hurrying my first few steps to catch up to him. "Then what is it?"
He stopped and I nearly ran into him. For the first time tonight, he met my eyes. There was a sadness in them that made my chest hurt. It was as though I could feel his pain just as if it were my own.
"I got my dad fired," he said.
"What?"
"I guess having a son that tends to end up at most crime scenes and got a restraining order from one of the most respected attorneys in town doesn't bode well for the department,"
"Stiles, I'm so sorry," I said. Without hesitating, I wrapped my arms around him. He dropped the bag at his side and returned the hug.
"I'm literally the worst son on the face of the earth," he said.
"Hey, you could have gone against your family promise and turned yourself into a werewolf then left for three years without so much as a call,"
His laughter felt like music to my ears. It was nice to be the one making him laugh, instead of the other way around. It let me know that I finally did something right for once. I was actually useful for something other than being an inconvinience.
"As much as I love holding you, we kind of have a supernatural barrier to create," said Stiles, his voice sweet in my ear.
"Right," I said, pulling away from him. His smile was still defeated. I squeezed his hands. "It's gonna be okay, Stiles."
It was strange being the one to tell him this. I'm supposed to be the one being told that everything will be okay. I'm the messed up one, not Stiles. I love him for how strong and supportive he's been, but I've come to realize that he can't hold both of us above the water all of the time. It must be exhausting for him. I have to be strong too, even if I don't want to be. I have to be strong because it's what's best for him.
Thinking back on our conversations about things getting better, I knew what Stiles had to be thinking. I'm sure he's questioning in his mind whether or not things really will be okay. At least, that's what I always do.
Because of that, I added, "Eventually,"
His smile was weak, but it was real. "Yeah, eventually,"
I nodded at him, getting lost in the way the street light caught his eyes. I took a deep breath. We could talk more about this later, but right now we -- well Stiles -- have a job to do. I let go of his hands and pointed to the bag of mountain ash at his side. I would have picked it up for him, but I can't because of the whole supernatural entity thing. Such a convenience.
He grabbed it and continued to pour the border around the warehouse to keep in Jackson and whoever is controlling him. I followed behind him, cursing myself every time I let my eyes slip down to that cute little butt of his. Now is not the time.
The jeep was in sight again, which meant we were getting close to finishing laying out the ash. I almost ran into Stiles when he stopped abruptly. I looked at him with curious eyes and he stood back up straight, pouring what little was left in the bag into the palm of his hand.
"Oh no," he said, looking back up at the at least fifty feet there was left to cover. He turned around to face me with wide eyes.
Well this isn't good. We have to finish the perimeter in order for this whole plan to work, and Stiles only has a handful left. I knew that we were running out of time and had to do something, and fast. This could be our only chance at catching whoever is controlling Jackson and killing all those people.
"Wh - What do I do?" He asked me.
Truthfully, I was beginning to panic. I don't know any more about how this stuff works than he does. How am I supposed to know what to do? But, I had to come up with something. I have to give him an answer in return for all the ones he's given me.
Gunfire could be heard in the background. This isn't good. We had to hurry. We had to get to Jackson before the Argents do.
"Um...remember what Deaton said? About how you have to believe?" I offered.
He nodded. "Right, believe,"
I grabbed his free hand. "You can do this, Stiles. Be that spark,"
"Spark, okay," he said to himself. "Focus,"
"Just - just imagine it working," I said.
He nodded again, but I could still tell that he was doubting himself. So, I did the only other thing I could think to do. I kissed him full and hard on the mouth. It was short, but traces of satisfaction and shock were etched on his face when I pulled away.
"You can do this." I gave his arm and encouraging squeeze before backing away.
"I can do this," he said, taking a deep breath. "Imagine,"
I watched as he walked forward, slowly pouring out what was left of the ash from his hand. I know he can do this, I can just feel it. Now it's just a matter of whether or not he believes that he can do it. I could hardly breathe as I watched.
He stopped as he used the last bit of the powder. I could see him shaking his head before hanging it. Then the impossible happened. I couldn't even believe what I had just seen. The line of ash finished itself. It worked. He did it. Stiles did it.
"Stiles," I said. "Look,"
He opened his eyes and took in the fact that the ash had finished the line. A smile made its way to his face. I tried stepping over the line, but was pushed back. Stiles face lit up as he watched. It worked. It really worked.
"Yes!" He exclaimed, fist pumping the air.
He crossed the line of mountain ash to where I was standing and wrapped me in a very tight celebratory hug, lifting me off the ground. His grip around me was so strong I thought I was going to suffocate. It made it somewhat difficult to be happy for him when I couldn't breathe properly.
"Um...Stiles," I croaked out.
"Yeah?"
"Can't...breathe..."
"Oh," he said, putting me back on the ground. He was wearing an even bigger stupid smile than he usually does. Without warning he kissed me, and I'm sure I must've had the same look on my face as he did when I kissed him out of nowhere. "And by the way, you look extremely hot tonight,"
A blush crept onto my cheeks. It was nice to see him in such a cheery mood. But, we have a plan to carry out and there's no more time for romantic pauses. We need to finish this. "Thank you, but come on, we have to find Erica and Isaac,"
I grabbed him by the hand and drug him inside the warehouse. We maneuvered through the mob of people dancing and grinding all over one another. The music was pounding in my ears and the lights playing tricks on my eyes. It's a good thing Erica's not exactly epileptic anymore with all of these strobe lights. Though, I wouldn't mind watching her suffer again.
Stiles clung to my hand as numerous people pushed around us. I didn't want a repeat of the gay club incident. I'd rather not be paralyzed from the neck down again. As fun as that experience was, I like having control of my limbs far better.
We finally found the separated room where Isaac and Erica had taken Jackson. We came through the door and Erica was about ready to pounce on us. "It's just us, it's just us," said Stiles, putting up his free hand.
Jackson was sitting in the middle of the room, passed out on a chair. "He okay?" Stiles asked.
Isaac stepped up towards Jackson. "Well, let's find out," he said. He whipped out his claws and moved to strike Jackson when he could him by the arm and twisted it, forcing Isaac to the ground. Stiles and I couldn't help but smirk. We both know that Isaac kind of deserves that. Jackson finally let go and Isaac stumbled back over to us.
"Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?" Stiles ordered.
"I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out," grunted Isaac, clutching his arm.
"Yeah, well apparently this is all we're gonna get," said Stiles. "So let's just hope that whoever's controlling him decided to show up tonight."
Then, Jackson's eyes flew open, but they didn't belong to him. They were distant and menacing. I grabbed Stiles' arm and tucked myself behind him. I don't mean to seem to scared and weak, but after everything I've witnessed, I have a right to be a little freaked out by all this.
"I'm here," said Jackson, but the voice wasn't his. It was low and scratchy. "I'm right here with you."
Stiles took a step towards him. I tried pulling him back, but he gave me a look that told me to let go. So I did. I just have to trust him. He crouched down in front of Jackson. I noticed Isaac giving me a side glance, but I chose to ignore it.
"Jackson, is that you?" Stiles asked.
"Us," said Jackson. "They're all here,"
Stiles turned his head to look at Isaac, Erica, and me. I met his eyes, but only for a moment before he turned back around and asked, "Are you the one killing people?"
"We're the ones killing murderers," said Jackson. His eyes hadn't even blinked since he opened them.
"So then all the people you've killed so far,"
"Deserved it," finished Jackson.
"See, we've got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers," said Stiles.
"Anything can break if enough pressure is applied,"
I was really beginning to feel uncomfortable and all I wanted was for Stiles to come back over to me and hold my hand. I know that I shouldn't be so dependent on one person, but I feel that Stiles is about all I have. He's the only one I can trust.
"Alright, so the people you're killing are all murderers then?"
"All...each...every one,"
"Well, who did they murder?"
"Me."
Isaac, Erica, and I all glanced around at each other. If he was the one killed then how is this whole thing even working? And what could all of these people have done to kill him in the first place? It just doesn't make sense.
"Wait, what do you mean?" Stiles asked.
"They murdered me,"
Isaac stood up from the box he had been sitting on and stepped in front of me. Stiles turned to look at the three of us. I widened my eyes at him. When he turned around, Jackson's eyes were shifting into yellow slits.
"They murdered me," repeated Jackson, his jaw twitching.
Stiles stood up and backed away. I latched onto his arm the moment it was in reach. Jackson raised his hand, on which his fingernails had been replaced with claws. Isaac and Erica stood up to their full height, preparing to fight if they had to.
"Okay, ketamine," said Stiles. "The man needs ketamine, come on,"
"We don't have any more," said Isaac, holding up the empty bottle.
"You used the whole bottle?" Stiles said.
As Stiles ripped the bottle from Isaac's hand, I watched as Jackson rose from his chair. His face was now spotted with green scales. I tapped Stiles' shoulder, getting his attention. Jackson then let out a loud shriek, his teeth replaced with rows of razor sharp teeth. I gripped Stiles' arm tighter. Jackson whipped his head around, going into full transformation.
"Alright, out," said Stiles, pushing us towards the door. "Everybody out,"
Once outside, the four of us pushed back against the door to try and hold it. I looked around for something to take our place, but Jackson burst through the tin wall next to us. This was not good, not good at all. Jackson has transformed into the kanima and now he's going to kill somebody, and it's all on us.
Isaac and Erica took off, leaving Stiles and I to figure out what to do next. "We need to find Scott," I said. Stiles agreed. He grabbed my hand we ran through the crowd again, going back the same way we came in.
A crowd of people were exiting as well, causing me to nearly lose my grip on Stiles' hand. Once we were outside I stood close to him and we looked around for any sign of Scott. I recalled hearing gunshots earlier. What if they were shooting at Scott?
Stiles spotted Derek standing on the other side of the line near his jeep. Even though I didn't want to be around the man that caused all of my problems, I followed Stiles over to him. I was glad we at least had the mountain ash to separate us.
"So we uh, kinda lost Jackson inside," said Stiles. Derek glared at us. For once I didn't cower behind Stiles. Instead, I glared right back. I don't want people to push me around anymore just because I lost my abilities and my memory. I can still hold my own, I just have to prove it.
A loud roar then echoed around the building. It shook my core. "Scott," said Derek, perking up.
"What?" Stiles asked.
"Break it," ordered Derek.
"What? No way!"
"Scott's dying!" Derek exclaimed, gesturing towards the building.
"What? How do you know that?"
"Wha - Stiles, oh my god I just know! Break it!" Derek shouted into my boyfriend's face.
Stiles groaned, throwing his hands up into the air. He knelled down in front of the mountain ash line that he had worked so hard to create. He forced the line apart with a whip of his hands. I could see his face fall as he did so.
Derek sprinted past us and through the alley between buildings. I stepped over the line into Stiles' side and stood next to him as we watched Derek take off. I rubbed his back in comfort. He kept staring at the broken line with sad eyes.
"You still did something, Stiles," I said.
He shook his head. "But it wasn't enough, it's never enough,"
The joy I had seen on his face earlier after he had made the line work had completely disappeared. It made my own heart sink into the pit of my stomach. I leaned into him, lacing my fingers through his and rubbing the back of his hand with the pad of my thumb.
"But it's enough for me," I said.
He looked down at me and gave a weak smile. He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer into him. He kissed the top of my head.
This whole supernatural world that I've been exposed to may be too much for me to handle at times. I know that I'm going to get pushed down. I'm going to be defeated. But I also know, that with Stiles by my side, I'll get through it. Better yet, we'll get through it.
I know this because I love him.
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Thanks so much for reading!
I'm so so so sorry for the wait I've just been crazy busy lately. My Saturdays for the next two months are going to be hell between speech tournaments and basketball games. Plus, in two weeks I'm going down to my college to compete for a full scholarship and I'm nervous AF.
I hope you liked this chapter and things are really about to pick up in the next couple. Hehehehehehehehehe.
Thanks again and don't forget to comment, vote, and follow!
GIF not mine.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox
-Alyssa