Poor Stiles. His dad is always getting hurt
Question of the Chapter: Now that there are more TV shows out, what TV show would you have wanted to do a crossover with Teen Wolf?
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I woke up to a crashing sound, almost jumping out of my skin. Reaching for Stiles, I found his side of the bed cold. My heart beat began to speed up as I climbed out of the bed carefully.
Beginning to walk down the hallway, I stayed as quiet as possible, eyes glowing with my ability at the ready. Half stepping into the kitchen, I saw a figure standing near the cupboard.
Using my ability, I pushed them up against the cupboard firmly, holding them in place.
"Ow!" I heard someone gasp.
Walking into the kitchen completely, I saw that it was just Stiles. "Oh, my god, you almost gave me a heart attack," I gasped, bending over to slow my heart rate.
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to make you breakfast, and I dropped the pan by accident," he explained quickly.
Glancing upwards, I saw egg shells strewn across the bench, alongside a bowl of uncooked scrambled eggs. "You were making me breakfast?" I asked softly, biting back a grin.
"Trying to still, if you'd let up on the air thing," he half laughed.
"Shit, sorry," I mumbled, focusing and releasing him from my grasp. "Iris is still helping me to control it."
"That's good," Stiles smiled. "I wanted to make you something for being there for me last night."
"Stiles, you never have to thank me. I'm here for all of it, the good and the bad. You know that," I reminded him, kissing him gently.
"I know," He nodded, looking like he was trying not to think about his dad in the hospital. "Lydia is coming over soon and we're going to try and figure out the cipher key to the code that her grandmother left."
I nodded, picking up the pan and helping him continue with making breakfast.
"Are you sure you don't want to go and see your dad?"
He bit his lip, wringing his wrists, "I'm going in the afternoon. They want to see if they can get him into surgery this morning, so I won't be any good there anyway. We need to figure out how to stop the Benefactor."
"Stiles-"
"Ri, I'm fine, okay?" He said quickly. "I just- I just want to focus on this. Please. Just let me focus on this."
I nodded, not saying anything as I turned to the pan.
♧♤♢♡
"Try Maddy. It's got to be Maddy," Stiles suggested as Lydia sat at her computer with her grandmother's code inputted on the screen.
We had been at this for nearly half an hour, putting things on Stiles' murder board and trying to figure out what the cipher key could be. Considering it could be any word ever, it was certainly one of the more difficult things we've tasked ourselves with completing.
Stiles' printer wouldn't stop beeping either, which was making it rather hard to concentrate.
Lydia looked over her shoulder at my boyfriend, "Doesn't Maddy feel a little obvious as a cipher key?"
"I guarantee it's Maddy."
"Five bucks says it's not," I told him.
He gave me a small appreciative grin, knowing I was trying to help him focus.
"I'll take that action."
We both watched as Lydia typed 'MADDY' into the keyword box below the code, only to hear it beep and come up with 'ERROR', signalling that the word had been wrong.
"Son of a bitch," Stiles muttered as he picked his wallet up off of his desk. "I never win our bets. Ever."
"Then maybe you should stop betting against me," I chuckled as I took the five dollar note from his fingers, slipping it into one of the pockets of my shorts.
"I would never bet against you."
"Can you two stop flirting for two minutes to help me?" Lydia snapped.
Stiles and I gave each other a look, pursed lips as we tried not to laugh.
"Sorry, Lydia," I apologised, turning my attention back to the computer. "She left the code for you, didn't she? Maybe it's just your name?"
Lydia shrugged, typing in her name. Again, 'ERROR'.
"Your mum's name?" Stiles suggested, the printer beeping again.
'ERROR'
"Do you have any beloved family pets?" The boy asked, running out of ideas already.
Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers, sighing heavily. She was beginning to give up; they both were.
"Alright," I started, hoping that my words would just lead somewhere. "You guys have figured out harder riddles than this before. C'mon, this is nothing. Lydia, this is your grandmother, and she left it for you. So, surely it's something you'd know?"
Stiles nodded slowly, agreeing. "Lydia, the ashes were left for you. The code was left for you. You're supposed to be able to figure this out."
The girl didn't even look away from the screen, mumbling almost beneath her breath, "But no one else is. Which is why she made it hard."
When the printer started beeping again, I ran a hand through my hair, "Stiles, can you please put some paper or something in your printer before I lose my mind?"
He nodded, grabbing a handful of paper and shoving it into the printer, also frustrated by the incessant beeping.
Beginning to pace, Stiles had a hand on his forehead, mumbling to himself. Putting a hand on his arm to get him to stop, I looked up at him. "Stiles, speak up."
"'No one else,'" he said, repeating Lydia's words. "No one else but you. Our guesses. They're all about Lorraine. Right? We keep trying to guess a word that has something to do with her. So, maybe we should be trying to guess one that's about Lydia."
"Me?" Lydia asked, confused. "What about me?"
"I think I get what you mean," I nodded. "The word could be something that meant something to you and your grandmother. Did you guys do anything special? Maybe it's something that was just between you and her? Like a song, or a book or a food-"
"A book," Lydia interrupted. "We read. 'The Little Mermaid.'"
"You read that movie?" Stiles asked in shock.
I looked over at him, my mouth gaping. "You know, for a smart guy, you can say some pretty dumb things. It was a book before it was a Disney movie. Hans Christian Anderson. Pretty dark stuff, actually."
Stiles nodded slowly, before pointing to the computer, "Type it in. 'Little Mermaid'."
Lydia did exactly that.
'ERROR'
"Goddammit," I groaned, walking away.
"We read it every night," Lydia said, confused. "I got so obsessed with it, for three months I wouldn't respond to anything but Ariel. It drove my parents crazy, but. . . grandma thought it was adorable."
Lydia typed out another word, 'ARIEL'.
I crossed my fingers as she pressed enter, every fibre of me hoping it would work. Finally, the 'ERROR' message didn't come up.
The numbers, letters and symbols began to shift on the screen, altering into names. Lydia had done it, she'd figured out the cipher key.
We read the names carefully, Stiles asking Lydia if she recognised any of them, but like us the only one she knew was her grandma's name at the bottom.
Our thoughts were interrupted as Stiles' printer started making noise again. Sighing, I walked over to see that it was printing.
"Lydia, did you start printing that list?"
When the girl shook her head, my stomach sunk. When the sheet finished, I picked it up and read it.
It was the Deadpool. All three parts in its entirety, the names of the dead crossed out.
"Stiles, Lydia," I said, my voice shaking. "We have a new problem."
"What's wrong?" Stiles asked.
I showed him the sheet as the lists continued to print. Reading them, I noticed that Derek's name was no longer on the list, and that Liam was no longer worth three million.
He was now worth eighteen million; more than me.
Stiles' jaw tightened as he read the list, seeing the names of all our friends. "We need to call Scott."
♧♤♢♡
Even though I hadn't wanted to, Stiles and I thought it best to split up that afternoon to help cover more bases. I had heard from Malia that she was going to the bonfire, and apparently not dealing with the reveal of her mother and Peter very well.
I couldn't say that I was exactly dealing with it, for the moment I was just choosing to ignore it. It was easier than having to deal with it.
Stiles had gone with Lydia to see Parrish about the list of names written by Lorraine Martin, hoping to find some connection.
I made my way through the crowd of teenagers at the bonfire, searching for my half-sister. Everyone here was either drunk or on their way to it, the bonfire blazing strongly in the middle of the courtyard in the shape of a tornado as the music pulsed.
I felt as if my senses were heightened, every nerve-ending on fire as the music vibrated my bones. I hadn't been to anything like this since the black light party at Derek's loft.
Finally, I spotted Malia. Beelining for her, she saw me coming. Her face split into a smile as she reached her hand out to me.
"Hey, sis," she drawled, dancing with a flask.
Once I was close enough, she grabbed my hand, attempting to get me to dance with her.
"Malia, what's going on? Why didn't you call me?"
She shrugged, laughing, "This seemed like more fun."
"Is this about Peter?"
"Do you mean our dad?"
I felt myself cringe at the use of the word. He wasn't my dad; I already had one of those.
Malia laughed, "So, you're not okay with it?"
"Of course I'm not okay with it," I scoffed.
"Then have some fun and just forget for a bit with me," she suggested, holding her flask out to me.
"Malia, I don't think this is a good idea. There's a lot going on and-"
"There's always something going on," She groaned. "Just one night off. Please? Just one night to forget the Deadpool and the Benefactor and Peter. Please, Riley?"
Thinking over her proposal, I couldn't help but agree. Our problems would still be here tomorrow, and I still hadn't taken the time to move past the thought of Peter being my birth father. I had so many questions for him, but I also couldn't stand the sight of him.
I knew I couldn't get drunk, so I didn't see the harm in accepting the beverage. Holding it to my lips, I downed a fair bit of it. It burned as it trailed through my body, leaving fire in its wake.
Even though I was only wearing shorts and a shirt, my whole body felt warm as the feeling flowed through me. I hadn't had much alcohol before, and I had never been drunk, obviously, but I knew it wasn't supposed to feel like that so soon.
Malia giggled as she noticed that I was finally smiling and beginning to enjoy myself. We kept dancing as the songs changed, finishing her flask and getting another student to top us up with whatever they were drinking. We took turns taking sips, and if we weren't supernatural, I could have sworn we were drunk.
Either way, I didn't care. Malia had both of my hands, getting me to dance to the music with her. I felt almost delirious as my body began to move to the music. Something didn't feel right; but on the other hand, I didn't care.
I found myself wishing that Stiles were there so I could dance with him.
Grabbing out my phone, I dialled his number. When he didn't answer, I frowned, deciding to leave a message. "Hey, I'm here at the bonfire thing and all I can think about is how much I wanna kiss you. Like. . . a lot," I laughed.
Calling back, it went to voice mail again, "We should also sleep together again at some point. I liked that. Shit, I said that a little loud. Oh well."
I looked over to see the girl staring at me with wide eyes, before falling into a fit of giggles. "About time," she told me, handing me the flask.
I laughed, taking a sip before calling him back; voice mail, again. "I also wanted to say, that I am completely, totally, desperately in love with you, too. If that weren't obvious."
Suddenly feeling anxious, I called him back. Fucking. Voice. Mail. "Why haven't you been answering me? Did you change your mind already?"
I felt my mood dampening as I stopped dancing, handing Malia the flask back. I couldn't explain what was going on. We couldn't get drunk, yet something was happening.
Either way, all I knew was that I just wanted Stiles to be there with me.
"Sorry, I'm being a bit melodramatic. I know it's only been a few hours, and I'm a bit light-headed, and I just. . . I really miss you."
Turning, I saw Isaac appear by Malia's side as the girl stumbled. "Lahey, long time no see," I called over the music.
"Riley, it's literally been a day," he reminded me, eyes scanning me.
"What are you guys doing here?" Scott asked as he walked up.
Malia's smile turned into a frown as she looked at him, "Getting drunk. What are you doing?"
"Trying to make sure no one gets hurt."
"Always playing the hero," I sighed, trying to get Scott to dance. He wasn't having it, standing his ground like Isaac. The Beta was becoming so moral and upstanding.
I'd be prouder if I were sober. Or whatever the opposite of what was happening was.
Isaac was too busy focusing on Malia and her flask to see me dancing like an idiot. Scott looked at us both, frowning, "Hey, I don't want to ruin your night or anything, but we kind of can't get drunk."
"What?" Malia gawked.
"I think it has something to do with our healing. But, trust me, I've tried. You're not gonna feel anything."
"Maybe you should tell Riley that," she said pointing to me, before turning and pointing over to some students near the tree. Liam was over there with Mason, stumbling just like me.
"Or him."
Scott's eyes widened as he noticed me stumbling, stepping forward to grab my arm to steady me.
"I'm fine, I have no idea what she's talking about," I giggled as I continued to dance.
The True Alpha turned back to Malia, "Look, I just want to talk."
"Well, I just want to dance with my sister," the werecoyote replied, trying to get Isaac to let her go.
I pouted my lower lip, putting an arm around her, dancing by her side, "I love you."
Malia looked down at me, confused by the affection, before smiling.
"We had our reasons for not telling you both," Scott said, beginning to sound like a broken record. "We didn't tell you about Peter. . ."
"Protect us blah, blah, blah, right timing yadda, yadda," I sighed, slipping the flask from Malia to get a sip. "Scott, it's okay. Seriously. Stiles told me everything. Right now, we're over the whole being lied to thing, and trying to deal with being the daughters of a murderer, 'kay?"
Malia nodded, "Peter said you'd say that, Scott. He also said you were right not to tell us."
This took Scott by surprise.
"Didn't see that one coming, did you, Scottie?" I laughed.
His face stiffened, "It makes me wonder what he wants. Malia, Riley, we need to stay together. You both, Isaac, me, Stiles-"
"You need to tell him to call me," I pouted, stopping dancing to point at the boy. When I stopped, I felt my feet stumble. Thankfully, Scott was quick to catch me.
"I've called him like three times and he's not replying."
Malia laughed when she saw me fall before she herself almost tripped over her own feet. Isaac grabbed her arm, eyes narrowing at her. "You guys are drunk."
"Yep," Malia smiled.
"But you can't be."
The girl's smile fell as she groaned, "Is this what drunk feels like? It doesn't feel as good as I hoped."
I could barely stand at this point, breathing heavily as Scott was basically holding me up completely.
"Something's going on, you're not okay," the Alpha said, more to himself than anything.
"I'm fine," I muttered, trying to swat his hands off of me. As soon as I tried to walk, I fell to the ground.
"How are they drunk?" Isaac asked.
I tried to focus my mind to force it to think, to feel. How were we drunk? We could heal, so it had to be something else.
Focusing on my ability, I tried to draw from it to help heal my body and mind. The air, something was wrong with it; it was almost like it was vibrating.
I was directly connected to it, so that was the only explanation I could come up with as to why I was on the ground while Malia was at least still able to stand.
Scott took the flask from Malia, sniffing it and asking what we had been drinking. She told him it was just vodka.
"It's not that, Scottie," I mumbled through a groan. "Something's wrong. Something with the air. The vibrations. I- I can't explain it."
Scott looked around, before quickly focusing back on us. "Both of you stay on your feet and keep moving. Isaac, don't let Malia go."
The boy nodded, helping my sister stay on her feet and trying to get her to move as if she wasn't about to collapse. All my movements felt rigid though, my body aching. I hadn't been drunk before, but if this was what it was like, I was glad I could heal.
The Alpha took my hand, putting my arm around his shoulders. The two werewolves lead us over to a bench, Scott running to grab some water for us.
He handed us a bottle each, insisting that we drink. I accepted the bottle gratefully, draining it almost immediately.
Scott was talking to someone, but I couldn't make out any of what he was saying.
Isaac was knelt in front of me, hand on my knee. "Hey, you're going to be okay. Scott will figure it out, we'll. . ."
When he stopped talking, I looked up to see his eyes becoming unfocused as he lost his balance and fell to the grass.
"It's happening to you, too," I said slowly. Trying to focus, I saw Scott making his way through the crowd. Where was he going?
I attempted to stand up and follow him when someone grabbed my arm forcefully. A cry of pain escaped my lips as I turned to my captor. It was one of the security guards working for the event.
"Let me go," I said, trying to pull my arm from his grasp, the effort itself as weak as my voice. He dragged me away easily, three more of them coming for Liam, Malia and Isaac.
They dragged us all into the school, dumping us in front of the lockers. Malia was thrown down next to Isaac, I was dropped almost on top of Scott and Liam had appeared next to us. I was surprised to see Scott, but it was obviously affecting him too.
Scott tried to sit up, falling short, "What is that? What are you doing?" He asked the security guard who seemed to be in charge.
I tried to concentrate on getting up or using my ability, but all I could feel and hear was the music. Every beat shook my bones and pierced my ears, hitting some part of my brain that just kept denying the simple movements I asked of it.
"It's gasoline," the guard informed the Alpha. "Haigh says we gotta burn you."
"And you saw how well that worked out for him," I laughed, clawing at the lockers as I tried to sit up, but nothing was working.
My laughing stopped as soon as the man uncapped the gasoline bottle and began to douse the five of us in gasoline. I felt tears pricking at my eyes as I felt the liquid drench my clothes. Stiles hadn't answered; I just wanted to hear his voice one more time.
We were so fucked.