CHAPTER TWO:
OMEGA, PART TWO
After an interesting interaction between Scott and Chris Argent, the three teens continued towards the Hale house.
The wooden porch creaked loudly beneath their feet, causing Scott to take a weary glance over his shoulder. They shuffled into the house, Stiles much more impatiently than the others.
He walked into the front foyer, searching around for any sign of life but coming up short. He led Scott and Allison into what was once a living room, and instantly noticed a small black object lying on the floor. He instantly raced towards it, picking it up slowly.
"Is that her purse?" Scott asked. Stiles responded with a nod.
"They were here," he responded, heart beating heavily in his chest. "Do you hear anything?"
Scott focused his hearing, and when his head turned slightly towards the back of the house, the other two looked at him expectantly.
"Well?" Stiles asked, growing impatient. Scott's eyes widened and he raced out the front door. Allison and Stiles quickly followed after him, only to find him waiting on the front porch. A few seconds later, Derek's figure became visible in the dark, a blonde figure being carried in his arms.
"Brooke!" Allison yelled, running towards the two.
Derek continued past her, walking up the steps and into his house. Stiles followed him quickly, desperate to make sure Brooke was okay. He watched as Derek laid her gently on the couch, the blonde girl squinting at her surroundings.
"Is she okay?" Stiles asked, rushing forward and kneeling in front of her figure.
Derek shrugged. "Physically, she's fine."
"And mentally?" Scott asked as he walked into the room.
Derek looked at his cousin and sighed. "She seems... out of it?"
The trio looked at the blonde girl expectantly, but she didn't make eye contact with any of them. Her eyes were focused on the ceiling above her, eyebrows furrowed and eyes watery.
"Brooke?" Stiles asked gently. She didn't respond. He looked up at the Alpha in front of him. "Where did you find her?"
"The graveyard," Derek answered. His eyes fell to her shaken figure. "Lydia wasn't with her. She was just standing by herself, staring at an open grave."
"Brooke," Stiles tried again. His hand grabbed hers, and she turned her head slightly to look at him. "Brooke, what happened?"
She shook her head. "I lost her," she whispered. "One second she was there and then she wasn't. I lost her and he's going to get to her and it's all my fault."
Scott and Derek exchanged a look. "Who? Who's going to get her, Brooke?" the younger werewolf asked.
Her eyes never left Stiles. "I don't know."
******
The following day at school went by so slowly it made Stiles want to scream. Lydia was still missing and Brooke had stayed home that day, her dad wanting her to recover before returning to classes.
After Derek brought Brooke to the Hale house, Stiles had driven her to her house and called his Dad. The sheriff arrived quickly and questioned the blonde girl, but after seeing how tired she was left soon after. Stiles spent the entire day texting Brooke but didn't receive any responses.
At the end of the school day, Stiles walked back towards Harris' chemistry room with a frown on his face. The frown was partially caused by the detention he had received, and partially caused by the unanswered text messages he had sent to Brooke throughout the day.
Scott looked at his friend in pity as he opened his messages to try and text her again. Scott put his hand over the phone and gave Stiles a look. "Dude, let her be. She's probably been sleeping all day."
Stiles looked at Scott with a pathetic look. "I know that, I just..."
"You're worried about her," Scott finished for him. Stiles nodded.
"It's just..." Stiles trailed off, looking for the right words. "I feel like we just got her on our side. I don't want this to change that."
"I doubt it will, Stiles," Scott answered. "See you at the funeral?"
Stiles nodded and made his way into the empty classroom, eyes narrowing at the sight of his chemistry teacher. Harris motioned for him to take a seat, so Stiles dramatically threw himself into a chair and stared out the large windows with a pout on his face.
The following sixty minutes passed by unbearably slowly for Stiles. At one point he pulled out his phone to see that Brooke still hadn't texted him back. Screw it, he thought, drafting another message to her.
"Phone away," Harris said without glancing up from the papers he was grading. Stiles let out an exasperated sigh and shoved the phone back in his pocket.
He stared at the clock, urging it to go faster. He felt himself get antsy as it neared towards four o'clock, and as the hour ended, Stiles stood up quickly.
"Sit," Harris lightly commanded him.
"But it's been an hour!"
"My detentions are an hour and a half," Harris answered.
"You can't do that!" Stiles argued, which led to Harris berating him for the next half hour.
As soon as the detention was over, Stiles booked it out of the room before Harris could decide to keep him there longer. His drive to the cemetery was a quick one, and he arrived just as the Argents did.
The clock in his car read 4:43 so he knew he had about fifteen minutes to sneak past all of the reporters and guards. He walked around the cemetery and into the woods, seeing Scott crouch behind a large headstone a couple hundred feet away. His eyebrow furrowed as he spotted a familiar head of blonde hair squatting next to him.
"Brooke?" Stiles asked as he approached the two, crouching down behind the girl in question. "What are you doing here?"
Brooke scoffed. "As if I'd miss this crazy bitch's funeral." She turned towards with raised eyebrows and a small smirk.
"Why didn't you text me back?" Stiles asked before he could stop himself, already cringing at how desperate he sounded.
Brooke lowered her gaze and turned back around. "Um, I was busy," she vaguely answered. Before Stiles could question her further, Scott pushed the three of them back, shielding them from the gaze of Chris Argent.
Brooke peered around the teen wolf at the bodies dressed in black and gave Scott a worried glance. "This isn't good." Scott nodded in agreement.
"Hey, maybe they're just here for the funeral," Stiles suggested. "What if they're from the non-hunting side of the family? There could be non-hunting Argents, right?"
"No, Stiles," Brooke said, eyes squinting at the French family. "They're reinforcements."
Before anyone could utter a response, Scott and Stiles were pulled up by the collars of their shirts. Stiles gripped Brooke by her elbow to pull her up as well.
"Ah, the two of you are unbelievable," Sheriff Stilinski said. He looked at the blonde in surprise. "And Brooke, really? Shouldn't you be at home resting?"
"Moral support," Brooke offered, plastering a sweet smile on his face. The sheriff rolled his eyes and dragged the two boys to his car, motioning to Brooke with his head to follow them.
Minutes later the three teens were squished in the back seat of the police car, Brooke in the middle. The teens sat for at least thirty minutes in awkward silence, the sheriff not letting them leave until the funeral was over. The sun was beginning to set, leaving all three of them feeling antsy.
Scott sat with his head back, groaning to himself because he had no way of knowing how Allison was doing. Brooke sat with one knee pulled up into the seat, eyes bouncing between the different windows as she bit her nails. Stiles looked back and forth between the two, a pout on his face as Brooke avoided all eye contact with him.
"What were you busy with?" he suddenly asked her, his voice low so his father couldn't here.
"What?" Brooke whispered back, hand dropping to her lap.
"You said you didn't text me back because you were busy," Stiles answered.
Scott leaned forward and looked Stiles with an embarrassed look. "Dude."
Before Stiles could question Brooke further, a voice came through the police radio. "4-1-5 Adam."
"I didn't copy that," Sheriff Stilinski responded, clearly confused. "Did you say 4-1-5 Adam?"
"Disturbance in a car," Stiles whispered to his two friends as they looked to him for a translation.
"They were taking in a heart attack victim—D.O.A," The voice responded. "But on the way to the hospital something hit 'em."
"Hit the ambulance?" the Sheriff asked for clarification.
"Copy that," the other officer responded. "I'm standing in front of right now. Something got in the back; there's blood everywhere."
The three teens looked at each other. As soon as the officer gave away the location, Brooke motioned for Stiles to open the door. The three teens quickly scurried out of the back seat before the Sheriff even noticed they were missing.
The three teenagers walked through the forest as the sun fully set, Brooke leading the way urgently. Once they got to the ambulance, they hid behind a small hill a hundred feet away.
"What the hell is Lydia doing?" Stiles asked, nose wrinkled at the sight of blood.
Scott looked at Brooke but she just shrugged. "I don't know."
"What kept you from doing that? Was it Allison?" Stiles asked Scott.
"I hope so," he answered.
The three teens sat in silence for a moment, Stiles taking in the crestfallen look that overtook Brooke's face. Once Scott had Lydia's scent he stood up and looked towards Brooke.
"You coming?" he asked her. She tore her eyes away from the ambulance.
"Uh, no," Brooke answered. Scott nodded and began to walk away, but Brooke caught the sleeve of his jacket. "Just... please find her."
Scott nodded again and walked into the woods, leaving Stiles and Brooke peering at the crime scene.
"You know this isn't your fault, right?" Stiles asked her.
She looked at him with a small smile before turning back to the blood covered ambulance. "I know," she said, but Stiles could tell she didn't truly believe it.
Instead of talking more, Stiles lid his hand into hers, intertwining their fingers and giving it a small squeeze. Brooke squeezed his hand back without looking away from the ambulance.
After a few minutes, Stiles knew that just sitting there and staring at the scene in front of them wouldn't be of any help, so he pulled Brooke up by her hand and walked towards the ambulance. The Sheriff just let out a sigh as he saw them approach and shook his head, eyes trailing down to their joined hands with a smile.
Brooke let go of Stiles' hand and made her way over to the sheriff. "Anything?" She asked, desperation clear in her voice.
"We aren't sure what caused this, looks like an animal attack," the sheriff answered. Brooke looked at Stiles with worried eyes. "Look, you two really shouldn't be here."
Stiles attempted to argue with his father, but Brooke didn't pay attention as her eyes scanned the scene around her. However, her breath stopped as something orange poked its way out of the trees.
"Lydia?" Brooke asked in shock. The strawberry blonde stood shaking, covering herself the best she could. "Lydia!"
Lydia's eyes snapped up at the sound of her best friend's voice, instantly brought to tears. "Well, isn't anyone gonna get me a coat?"
Brooke tore the Sheriff's jacket off without permission and ran towards her best friend. She wrapped the coat around Lydia's shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug, tears prickling at the corner of her eyes.
She rode with Lydia to the hospital and waited for her parents to arrive as Stiles went back to the cemetery to get his car. By the time Stiles arrived at the hospital, Natalie Martin was holding her daughter's hand and Brooke was closing the door to the hospital room behind her.
Stiles walked down the hallway stopping in front of the blonde and held up his car keys. "Want a ride?"
Brooke smiled at his presence and nodded. "Yes, please."
The ride to the Moore house was quiet, Stiles looking over at Brooke every now and then. She had her gaze focused out the window, an unreadable expression on her face.
"Are you going to be at school tomorrow?" Stiles asked as they pulled onto her street.
Brooke pulled her gaze away from the window and nodded. "Unfortunately."
Stiles let out a light chuckled and smiled lightly, but that smile disappeared as he pulled in front of Brooke's house and Derek's signature Camaro was parked in the driveway. The unreadable expression took over Brooke's face again and she muttered a quick goodbye to Stiles as she got out of the car.
"Brooke, wait," Stiles said, grabbing on to her wrist as the door opened. She turned and looked at him with an eyebrow raised.
"Yeah?" she asked. Stiles looked at her as his words got caught in his throat. There was so much he wanted to say—to ask—but the impatient look on her face stopped him from saying too much. He dropped her wrist.
"I'm just, uh, just glad that you're safe," he said, stuttering over his words. The irritation on her face melted away as a small smile filled it instead. She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek lightly.
"Get home safe, Stiles," Brooke said quietly. She got out of the car quickly and made her way to the front door, not looking back once despite how much Stiles wanted her to.
Stiles drove home quickly, laying in his bed as hundreds of thoughts crossed his mind. Are the other Argents staying? Is Lydia a werewolf? Is Jackson? As these questions crossed through his brain, he couldn't help but bring his attention back to Brooke and how distant she had acted all night.
On the south side of town, thoughts of Stiles didn't cross Brooke's mind as she stood behind Derek. Her attention was focused solely on the teenager standing in front of her in the abandoned subway station.
******
surprise, bitch. bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.
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