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Color Me Curious
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@sterlingsstilinski-blog
[Despite her anxiety, Sandy smiles when Stiles offers to do something even more stupid if she does something stupid. She laughs a little, grateful.] Thanks, Stiles. You are such a good friend! You’re so nice!
[He smiles back at her and raises his glass.] No problem at all. I do what I can. Cheers! [He takes a big gulp of his own, much less sugary drink. He finally starting to feel a buzz.]
…I really hope I don’t do anything stupid…
Hey, don’t worry. You’ll be totally fine. I won’t let you do anything stupid.
Because then if you do, I’ll have to do something more stupid than that. I have a reputation to keep up you know.
[Stiles recognizes a bit of anxiety on her face.] Seriously, don’t worry about it. You start feeling tipsy, just grab some water. It’ll kill your buzz pretty quick, but you won’t get drunk that way. And if you need anything and don’t like looking at my ridiculous face, go to Allison or Natalie. [He points out the two girls drinking with each other.] They sober up like champs and can help you through literally anything.
Well, I’m glad you’re still alive!
Yay! [Sandy laughs; she isn’t sure if he can make a drink that will taste like donuts, but she would probably actually like it if it does. She watches Stiles create a concoction, and accepts the glass, looking at it.] Well, it looks really pretty! [She takes a sip and smiles.] This is good! Thanks for making this!
It’s not super strong, is it?
Really? Awesome! No problem.
No, not super strong. But just take it slow. Hard liquor can kind of hit you all at once and surprise you later on.
Thanks. I really appreciate that. Plus, my parents would probably kill me.
Maybe I should try something sweet. Besides, I love candy. And donuts. Can we make a drink taste like donuts?
Nah, don’t worry about it. My dad’s the sheriff and I haven’t been killed yet.
Donuts? I’m not sure, but we can totally try! I’m sure there’s some sugar around here somewhere.
[Stiles searches through the kitchen cabinets and the refrigerator and finds some cream, sugar, hawaiian punch, and sprinkles. He rethinks the cream and lines the glass with sugar and crushed up sprinkles. He pours in the hawaiian punch and the rum before handing it to Sandy.]
Okay, so if it’s too sweet, I can try again.
Hey! Um…which one tastes better? …Okay, full disclosure, I’ve never actually been drunk before, either.
Hey, that’s okay. You are in the best company. Nobody here is going to let you get in too much trouble.
That depends. If you’re like Rory with her sweet tooth, the rum tends to mix pretty well with the sweet stuff. Vodka is better if you like a little bite to a drink.
[Stiles walks into the Argent kitchen and holds up three bottles of hard alcohol.] Alright party people! I have whiskey, rum, and vodka!
[He looks momentarily startled as Rollin walks by and grabs the whiskey out of his hand without a word and walks into the other room.]
Okay, so I have rum and vodka!
Text → Rory
Stiles: About time! What are doing?
Roots || Allison, Lydia & Stiles
Stiles nodded at Allison. There was no point in arguing. Allison was going to do what Allison was going to do. And it made Stiles feel better that she and Lydia were together and both of them were watching over him. Those girls were fierce and he was always glad he was on their side.
He started to lead the way through the mud, over the fallen branches, through the torrential rain. Gradually, the storm started to lighten and the air didn’t seem so thick. Stiles smiled. Blake was weakening or the witches were working their magic… hopefully both.
By the time the group got to the bridge, the wind had turned into a breeze, the pouring rain had become a steady drizzle, and the sky had even lightened up. Stiles turned around and saw the rest of the group. They looked as exhausted as he felt. He smirked. “You don’t happen to have six towels in your car do you? Because if so, I’ll need all of them.”
As the storm weakened, it became easier to see the people further up ahead of her, and by the time they reached the bridge, she could easily see everyone. The gusts of wind that they’d had to fight against to even stand up had become little more than a breeze, and while it was still raining, it had gone from a downpour to a light rain. When Stiles turned around and asked about the towels, Allison laughed.
“Nope. Looks like the inside of my car is going to get a little wet, too,” She laughed again. Now that they were safe, their parents were alright, and the storm seemed to be coming to a stop, the relief and adrenaline was finally hitting her.
“Come on. Let’s get everyone back to our house– and call the others. We need to let them know you’re okay, thank the witches for the storm, and find out what’s going on with Blake and Deucalion.” Catching Mr. Stilinski’s eye, Allison added. “…And maybe start filling your dad in on what’s going on while we’re driving,” Looking at Stiles. She linked arms with Lydia and led the way to where the car was parked.
Lydia laughed along with them, soaked and tired, but happy, all the same. They had found the adults, and that was no small victory. They’d saved three people, three of the most important people in their lives, and she knew the witches were working their magic on the storm overhead. She trusted that they had things under control, and hoped they were alright.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and Lydia reached for it with slippery fingers. It was hard to unlock it, with wet fingers, a wet screen, and shaking hands, but eventually she managed. She squinted in an attempt to see better, and almost didn’t believe what she saw. She stared at it for a few moments before letting out a laugh of disbelief.
“Lydia?” Mrs. Argent laid a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”
“Scott,” Lydia said. “They defeated Deucalion. He’s gone. He said they’re going to head to your place,” she said to Allison.
Stiles clambered tiredly into the car in front of his father. He sent a quick text to Scott, letting him know his mom was okay. “So werewovles are real...” He began. He breezed over most of the details, including who the kanima was, how Mr. Argent had tried to kill Scott and the other werewolves a few times, etc. But the summary even took until they got out at the Argents’ house.
They all got out of the car and Stiles laughed at Mr. Argent asking Allison if she turned off the grill. Such a typical dad question at the end of a very not typical day. When at the Argents’ house, he made his way up to Rory’s bathroom and grabbed a few towels, putting one on her bed so she had one if she needed one.
Stiles hoped the rest of the group got there soon. At least there wasn’t any causalities that they knew about... They hadn’t, unfortunately, heard about any of the witches though.
Looking down, Stiles sighed. He didn’t take off his shoes and there were mud tracks through Rory’s room. Crap. There might be one casualty here tonight. Oh well. He was to tired to complain. He moved back downstairs to pass out the towels.
Text → Scott
Stiles: We got your Mom. She's safe. She's okay.
Stiles: Good job with Deucalion dude. See you at the Argents.
Roots || Allison, Lydia & Stiles
Allison was relieved when the doors flew open thanks to all of them pushing at the same time, and to a particularly well-timed gust of wind. She was starting to think maybe she didn’t hate this storm so much after all, after that, until they got outside and she realized just how bad the conditions had become. Visibility was terrible, and the wind was at such high speeds that half of the trees were practically bending in the gusts. If getting there had been difficult, getting back to town would be, too. Even if they’d driven instead of gotten there on foot, that wouldn’t have been much help now. The car would have kept them dry, but it would have been just as difficult to see through a windshield, and maneuvering would have been much more difficult in a car with all of the fallen branches and flying debris.
When Lydia stepped closer, Allison moved closer to her as well and looked up, lifting her own arm in an attempt to shield her eyes from the rain and observe the storm. For a moment it had seemed to almost be calming down, but now it was picking up again. It was almost as though the storm was fluctuating. Either Blake was losing steam, or someone was fighting the storm. Someone like the witches. Allison gave a silent thanks for her magically-inclined friends, then looked at the others, smiling at Stiles when he said he knew the way back. “We’ll follow your lead, Stiles!” Allison called over the storm. She had little doubt he would know the way back fastest of all of them. Allison spent a good deal of time in the woods now, but she had only lived here for a fraction of the time that Stiles had. He’d probably spent the most time in the woods of any of them, and knew his way around them the best, especially in harsh conditions. “Everyone, stick together, and make sure that you can see the person on each side of you at all times! If you lose sight of anyone, even for a moment, yell out and let everyone know.” Allison knew that they could easily lose sight of each other in a storm like this, and she didn’t want to risk anyone being lost in this.
“Stiles, you take lead. I’ll be last.” If anyone was going to be the last one, Allison wanted it to he her; this way, she could keep an eye on everyone else at all times, too. When her dad began to protest, Allison held up her hand. “We don’t have time! Come on, lets get moving!”
It was even more difficult this time around. Even more branches had fallen, and the wind was gusting, blowing the rain almost sideways at times. But the storm also seemed to continue it’s fluctuation as they moved as quickly as they could through the forest, letting Allison know that the witches were definitely fighting against it. When the rain and wind slowed, it made it a lot easier for them to pick up speed, and by now, everyone wanted to get the hell out of there.
For what might have been the first time, Lydia was glad for how much time they spent in the woods. Stiles knew his way around them, even if the others didn’t. Lydia had spent time there, but she’d been dazed and out of it for most of the time. It wasn’t something she liked to think about.
She wasn’t particularly happy about Allison being at the rear, but she was smart enough to know that someone had to do it. And given all that had happened, Lydia didn’t think any of them were willing to let the parents stay behind. Mrs. McCall traveled nearer to the Sheriff, and Lydia stuck close to Allison. It was almost instinctual now, to stay in her line of sight. Good things rarely happened when Lydia strayed far from her friends, but she always felt safe with Allison. Even when Lydia couldn’t protect herself, Allison always had her back.
The wind picked up again, and Lydia stumbled, her arms shooting out. She reached out, her hand catching onto someone else’s. She straightened up, falling back in line with the others and did her best to stay with them, despite the ferocity of the storm.
Stiles nodded at Allison. There was no point in arguing. Allison was going to do what Allison was going to do. And it made Stiles feel better that she and Lydia were together and both of them were watching over him. Those girls were fierce and he was always glad he was on their side.
He started to lead the way through the mud, over the fallen branches, through the torrential rain. Gradually, the storm started to lighten and the air didn’t seem so thick. Stiles smiled. Blake was weakening or the witches were working their magic... hopefully both.
By the time the group got to the bridge, the wind had turned into a breeze, the pouring rain had become a steady drizzle, and the sky had even lightened up. Stiles turned around and saw the rest of the group. They looked as exhausted as he felt. He smirked. “You don’t happen to have six towels in your car do you? Because if so, I’ll need all of them.”
Roots || Allison, Lydia & Stiles
“I couldn’t agree more,” Allison said, turning towards the stairs at the exact moment a strong gust of wind blew the doors shut again, and something seemed to shake the small structure underground that they were in, causing dirt to sift down through the makeshift ceiling. Allison ran back up the steps to the door and pushed against it, to no avail. She tried again, stepping back and throwing all of her weight against it, but it still didn’t budge. The small room seemed to shake again as her father came to help her push, and a cracking noise made Allison turn around.
One of the beams their parents had been tied to seemed to be beginning to give way.
“Everyone, come on! Help us with the door!” Allison called to the others, throwing her weight against it once more. But she knew it wasn’t just wind that had blown it closed, or the storm that was bringing the cellar down. It was the same dark magic that had summoned the storm in the first place. It was the darach.
“Everyone together, on three. Taller people towards the back steps, where we can all reach,” Allison said quickly, stepping down a step so that Lydia and Mrs. McCall, both of whom were shorter than she was, could stand where she had previously stood.
“Ready? One, two, three!”
Lydia let Mrs. McCall go in front of her, then followed the rest of them to the cellar door. They both put their weight against the wall and waited for Allison’s count. When they reached three, they both pushed with all of their might. They were both rather small, but their weight counted enough, it seemed. The door opened, helped in part by the storm raging on.
Lydia and Mrs. McCall climbed out, hen held out their hands to help the others out, too. Once everyone was out, Lydia glanced up at the storm. Something strange was happening to it, but she couldn’t figure it out. It almost seemed to be getting smaller. No, it was… fluctuating. She couldn’t really explain it.She wondered briefly what was going on, but figured they could worry about it later.
She stepped closer to the Argents, holding her arm up, as if to keep the water from getting in her eyes. “How are we going to get back to the others,” she called over the sound of the wind. “We can’t see anything in this storm!”
Stiles lined up next to his father and behind the girls. He threw all his strength into the door on Allison’s count. The storm winds caught the door and helped them push it open. It was the first time he was grateful for the storm that was thrashing away outside.
He tried to get his dad to go in front of him, but the sheriff shoved Stiles up the stairs in front of him. Typical Dads...
Thankfully, everyone was out of the jacked up holding cell by the time the door slammed shut and the terrible sound of the rest of the pillars collapsing made its way to Stiles’ ears. Too close. He looked around and indeed, did not see much of anything.
“I know the way back.” He had to nearly shout over the wind. Granted, he wasn’t used to finding his way through the woods when he could barely see the woods, but he knew the directions they took to at least get back to the bridge. A smile threatened to play on his face - and his dad always yelled at him for always getting lost in the woods with Scott. Point for Stiles. “We need to stay together!” He did have to shout that time as a particularly strong gust hit the group. Stiles didn’t move however. Keeping everyone together was not something he particularly knew how to do. Holding hands might prove more hazardous if one of them falls. However, with the low visibility, what choice did they have?
OOC:
Hey wolfies! I didn’t know where to message everybody. I figured this was easier! I’m going to be going to bed, but as soon as I get up tomorrow I shall respond! Everybody has such great paras! I wish I could stay up longer and play! Curse adult life!!!
Goodnight! I will be back tomorrow!
Roots || Allison, Lydia & Stiles
In any other situation, Stiles’s comment would have made Allison laugh, but right now, she couldn’t. She couldn’t find the humor in anything. All that she cared about was finding their parents, and stopping Blake and Deucalion from doing any more damage, from hurting anyone else.
Allison gave both of their hands a squeeze, then looked at the phone, studying the picture. It looked like they were in the right place, but…
She looked up when Stiles spoke, and looked around them. “Everything seems strange,” She said, shaking her head. The storm, the clearing…but now that Stiles mentioned it, Allison looked around them, then back at the stump. Something did seem…off. She looked at the map again, then at her friends.
“The stump?” She asked, handing Lydia her phone back and starting towards it. The wind was picking up speed, and Allison had to actively fight against it to get there. She felt around the stump, when her hand brushed against something that felt different. It wasn’t wood, it was metal. She leaned closer, trying to see clearly through the rain and the darkness, and brushed her hand over it again.
“A door! There’s a door!” She called to Stiles and Lydia. She gripped the metal handle and wrenched the lock open, and pulled up against the door, but it was heavy, and the wind wasn’t making it any easier. She pulled again, and this time, a gust of wind whipped the door the rest of the way open once she had it about halfway.
“Dad? Dad!” Allison started down the stairs behind the door quickly, headfirst into whatever danger might be down there.
“Allison!” She heard her dad’s voice, and as her eyes adjusted, she saw the sheriff and Mrs. McCall too, all of whom were bound to beams in a strange, root cellar like room under the stump.
“Dad!” Allison ran to him, throwing her arms around him, relief crashing over her. “Don’t worry, we’re going to get you out.” She said, starting to cut the bindings on his wrists carefully. “Here,” She offered knives to Stiles and Lydia as well, to cut the others free.
Lydia eyed the stump curiously, something about it standing out to her. Other than the obvious, she felt as if she should’ve noticed it before. It was only a second later that she realized why. Scott had said something about it before. He and Katie had passed by it, and felt something coming from it. They’d clearly never gone to investigate, but that didn’t matter now.
She followed after Allison, only letting go of them once they’d reached the stump. Honestly, she shouldn’t have been so surprised to find that there was a door there, but she was. Surprised, but happy, when she heard Mr. Argent’s voice.
Accepting the knife from Allison, Lydia hurried over to Mrs. McCall, making quick work of cutting the ropes holding her. She smiled at the woman, grabbing her hands. “Scott’s out looking for you,” she said, before Mrs. McCall could ask. “Are you guys okay?”
A door! Stiles had never before been so relieved and excited to go into a mysterious trapdoor on the other side of which may be a powerful dark witch. He let go of Lydia’s hand only to get down into the trapdoor. “Dad?!” Stiles yelled downwards as he clambered down. “I’m here!” He heard a response from his dad. He also heard Mrs. McCall.
Thank God.
Stiles gratefully accepted the knife from Allison and ran over to cut the binds restraining his dad. When his dad was free, Stiles threw his arms around him, embracing him tightly. “Are you okay? I promise I’ll explain everything, but..”
His dad cut him off. “But first let’s get the hell out of here.”
Stiles let out a relieved laugh. “Yea. Like, right now.”
Roots || Allison, Lydia & Stiles
Allison looked down at the phone, looking up at Lydia, her eyes drifting briefly to the wound on her neck. Allison touched Lydia’s wrist lightly; what had almost happened to her best friend last night, what had happened to her, was as horrific as the rest of this.
Allison wasn’t going to let Blake get away with it.
Nodding, Allison took Lydia’s hand and ran in the direction that Stiles was going, keeping a pace with him and Lydia as they went. They were all relatively fast, which was a good thing now. The sky had broken open, and the rain had started pouring down torrentially, and lightning was cracking across the sky above. The storm was big– bigger than any Allison remembered seeing in recent history. In no time at all her clothes were soaked completely through, but that didn’t matter at all; the only thing that mattered was finding their parents, and finding a way to keep everyone else safe.
The woods were darker than usual, and the storm had left fallen branches and mud everywhere. It made the going difficult, and often they had to slow down to climb through branches or step around pools of water. Even the river seemed higher and faster than normal as they crossed over the bridge. It was almost as though the elements were trying to keep them at bay.
Or someone who had control over the elements.
“She made this storm,” Allison’s head shook, and she watched Lydia and Stiles carefully, ready to help either of them if they slipped or stumbled. “Blake. She did this.” Allison wasn’t sure if it was meant to distract them or slow them down or disorient them, but something told her it was all of the above.
She kept moving as fast as they could go, until they reached what seemed to be the center of the woods. They were in something almost like a clearing, save for a stump at the center of it.
“Let me see the map again,” She called to Lydia over the storm. “We have to be close.”
Lydia ran with Allison, doing her best to keep up with Stiles. There was a certain desperatiom in both of them that she certainly understood. While her mom was safe at home, their dads were missing and close to sacrifice. Mr. Argent was like a second father to Lydia, Mrs. McCall was an angel to all of them, and Mr. Stilinski had always done his best to protect this town. The three of them really were guardians, and they were being killed for it.
None of them were Lydia’s parents, and she was terrified for them. She couldn’t imagine how her friends felt.
When they finally stopped, she unlocked her phone again and handed it to Allison. As an afterthought, Lydia grabbed Stiles’ hand, too, throwing a pointed look at him. The last time the two of them got separated, thigs didn’t end well. She wasn’t about to lose him again.
“School is really starting to get to me!” Stiles threw his hands up in the air. “First homework, then this?” In a different situation, Stiles would have laughed. But instead he ran his hands over his head pushing the water away from his face ineffectively.
Stiles was terrified. Although terrified wasn’t quite the word for it. It was too mild a word. He didn’t have a word for how scared he was right now. He felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack. Especially now that they seemed to be very close, yet so very far away from finding their parents.
He held on tight to Lydia’s hand. No way was he going to let her disappear again. Never ever. He squeezed her hand in an attempt to be comforting. Stiles looked around, not letting go of Lydia’s hand, and noticed a stump in the center of a strange clearing. “Guys?”
Something strange was directing his attention towards it. “Does something here seem strange to you?”
Roots || Allison, Lydia & Stiles
The longer it took to find them, the worse the feeling in Allison’s chest became. It was a terrible tightness, like something awful had clawed it’s way behind her ribs, suffocating her heart and making it difficult to breathe.
Her dad.
Scott’s mom.
Stiles’s dad.
As much as she he tried to reassure the others that they were probably just bait, the way Deaton had been for Scott, deep down, she knew it wasn’t true. The map of sacrifices the darach would make was burned into her memory, and so were the list of victims. Virgins. Warriors. Philosophers. Healers.
Guardians.
Allison clenched her fist tightly against her crossbow. That was what their parents were, to the darach– no, not the darach. Their teacher. The woman who had acted sweet and friendly for months while she used her classroom to search for victims, to stalk her prey.– they were sacrifices to her.
Sacrifices.
Not if the pack could help it.
The only relief came from knowing that the rest of them were alright, and together, and searching for their parents, as well, save for Derek and Cora, who were still at the hospital. They were stronger together. Allison knew that was how wolf packs worked; it wasn’t just strength in numbers, but rather, werewolves were actually stronger, the more members there were in a pack. She wondered sometimes if, in cases like their pack, this extended to members who weren’t werewolves, too. Sometimes, it felt like it did.
And right now, she was glad for that feeling.
Setting her jaw, Allison ran a frustrated hand through her hair. They were combing the woods, the town, and had followed dozens of current lines, checked the bank, the mall, to no end. The currents had to factor into this, but how?
Allison stopped suddenly, turning to Lydia. The wind was picking up around them, and her hair whipped around her when she turned.
“Lydia! Do you still have a picture of the currents map on your phone?” She asked her best friend. If Miss Blake was drawing power from the currents too, which seemed to line up, and she had already lost victims, she would want to make sure that this time, she didn’t screw up. She’d want to make sure that she was in the place that could draw the most power. “All of the currents seemed to converge, or originate, in one point, right? Somewhere in the woods.”
Lydia’s neck was sore. Even with her hand acting as a barrier, the wire had pressed into her neck, leaving bright, ugly red marks that would become bruises in the morning. How would she possibly hide this from her mom? Or from herself even? Every time something happened to Lydia, she chose to believe it didn’t happen.
Overnight hike through the woods? Well, she lost nine pounds and looked fabulous for it, thank you very much.
Attacked by some psycho at Winter Formal? Who cares, he ruined her dress. Did he have any idea how much it cost?
Deer crash through her windshield? No, no, more importantly, she needed to get a new car, by Monday, at the latest.
Fear only took hold if you let it. And Lydia didn’t let that happen. The less she thought about these things, the less she broke down. With all that had been happening, she felt like the weak link. She always needed to take a break, always needed to cry, always needed to scream. And maybe she knew why now, but that didn’t make her feel any less useless for it.
She always wanted to be stronger. She always wanted to be bigger and better than her issues, but they were so much badder than she was. How could she fight monsters that were twice her size and often invisible? How did she fight the monsters in her head?
At Allison’s question, Lydia stopped walking and turned her attention back to her. Her fingers, which had been pressing at the wounds at her neck, grabbed for her phone. She unlocked it, scrolling through the pictures she had stored, and found the map of the currents. “Yeah,” she answered, narrowing her eyes at the picture. She stepped closer to her friends, showing them the image on her screen. “It’s towards the middle, I think.”
All of Stiles’ focus was on finding his dad. The one constant in his life besides Scott. His dad was what he had left. Daria would always be there, true. But Stiles barely survived his Mom’s death. He wasn’t ready to try to survive his Dad’s. He had to find him. His Dad had been there, always been there for Stiles... besides lately.
He tried to warn his Dad. But his Dad wouldn’t listen. Stiles clenched his jaw. I should have tried harder. I should have made sure he knew. He needed to be warned. And now he’s going to be a sacrifice. Stiles shook his head almost to intensely. No. No he won’t. You’ll find him. You’ll save him.
The emotional overload was starting to take hold again. He had freaked out earlier, calmed down and focused, and now felt on the verge of another freak out. He inhaled sharply and exhaled at Allison’s question, thankful for the focus.
Stiles moved closer to Lydia and Allison when the girls started to talk about the currents. He did his best to shield Lydia’s phone from the rain, cringing slightly with guilt with a glance towards her neck. He had been too slow then too.
Nodding in agreement, Stiles whipped around and found the direction he wanted - the direction they needed to go according to the map. “Come on!” He waved his hand towards himself, encouraging Lydia and Allison to follow him as he picked up his own pace.
Taken || Lydia, Stiles & Jackson
“Yes, Karen; her name is Karen. Be nice to Karen.” Jackson said, patting the dashboard. “Karen can sense attitude, and she’ll trip you when you get out of the car.”
Looking over at Lydia once more, Jackson nodded again. “Twisted. But smart. It’s like a…a…what’s that movie?” He snapped his fingers, trying to remember the title. “Well, whatever it is, it’s like that. It takes any suspicion off of you if you’ve been a victim, too. I think you’re right, Lyd.”
Balking slightly, he said, “Is that why Allison brought that up? Uh, guys…Allison told me Derek doesn’t even know who Miss Blake is. She asked him.” He shook his head. “If she’s a darach, then she has a kind of magic, right? Could she have made it look like she was with Derek? Or made him forget he was with her?” Jackson wished he could ask Katie if that was how magic worked; he knew his cousin wasn’t an expert yet, but she definitely knew a lot more about magic than he did.
“Shut. Up. Stiles,” Jackson said again, but his tone was still good-natured. “But I think you’re right, too. For once,” He added. “We need to get to her classroom and see what we can find. Either she’s there, or there might be a clue about where she is, or anything else about her. Is your Feeling pulling you that way, Lyds?” Jackson asked. He turned off the car and opened his door, walking around to open Lydia’s door for her as well. He pretended he was going to close it on Stiles, but stepped back instead, letting Stiles get out while he stepped closer to Lydia, looking up at the building. “To think some people just dread high school because of classes and homework. They don’t even know that half of the faculty is actually evil,” He muttered.
“Karen’s part of the family,” Lydia added, gazing adoringly at the dashboard. “Even Danny treats her like a queen.” Granted, Danny was biased and wanted the Porsche for himself. But that was neither here nor there. “She’s very special, and very sensitive.”
“I’m always right,” Lydia said with a smile, as they always did. Modesty wasn’t really her thing. It was said in a teasing tone, but true nonetheless.
Lydia shook her head. “I don’t know. It could be that. Derek could be lying. Whatever the truth is, I doubt she’s innocent.” She wasn’t accusing Derek of anything. Whether he was secretly seeing their teacher or not, he clearly didn’t know what she was up to. Lydia didn’t like the thought of him being used and lied to like that. She didn’t like the thought of any of her friends being that close to the darach. The fact that they’d sat in a classroom with her for so long without knowing made her sick.
She shrugged, climbing out of the car. She stood next to Jackson, waiting for Stiles to exit the car, then started towards the school. Despite how many people were murdered, they never seemed to lock the doors. “I don’t know. It’s taking me somewhere.” She pulled the door open, holding it open for the boys as she walked in. “It’s…”
She trailed off, having run out of words. The Feeling was almost overwhelming now, pulling her further into the school. She allowed it to lead her, losing all sense of where she was and where she was going. She walked ahead of Stiles and Jackson, taking quick strides towards the stairs.
She wasn’t sure why she turned. She had no reason to. The stairs were ahead, but that wasn’t where the Feeling was taking her. It told her to turn, so she did.
She shouldn’t have. She really should’ve kept going.
She swallowed a gasp, taking a step back as she came face to face with Miss Blake. That same saccharine smile was plastered on her face, even as she stood menacingly in front of the girl. “Hi, Lydia. I’m afraid we have a problem. You.”
Lydia’s lips parted, a scream working its way up her throat. It only barely made it out before the world warped, and they both vanished.
Stiles rolled his eyes. Karen. What a lame name for a Porche. He didn’t voice it, but he sure thought it. He shot a good-natured glare at Jackson when he pretended to shut the door on him. Stiles managed to get half-way out of the tiny backseat before he realized the seat belt had tangled around his other foot. It was too late to stop the motion and Stiles fell face first out of the car. He sighed loudly. The car.... Karen... did seem to hold a grudge. “Funny.” He said to Jackson as he got up and brushed himself off.
Without any hesitation, Stiles followed Lydia to and through the school. He hadn’t realized how far ahead she had gotten and started to jog towards her. “Hey, wait up!” He shouted towards her.
If he hadn’t already been moving, the scream would have gotten Stiles moving instantly. Instead, he turned his jog into a full sprint towards his friend. “LYDIA?!”
Taken || Lydia, Stiles & Jackson
Lydia had another Feeling. The capital F was warranted, given how her Feelings usually ended: with her staring down at a dead body, and a scream tearing from her throat. After her conversation with Scott some weeks ago, she made it a point to never let things go unsaid or ignored when it came to her Feelings. When she was sure what the turning in her stomach meant, she would tell someone, anyone.
This time, she told Stiles and Jackson. She’d already been with Jackson when she tugging started, but chose to call Stiles because this time, she had time and a theory, and she knew that if she planned on finding answers, he would be her best help.
“All of the deaths were tied back to the school,” she explained when they were in the car, on their way to Beacon Hills High. “Teachers, students, alumni— even Cora and Danny. Whoever the darach is, they’re someone we’ve been staring at for months and haven’t even noticed.”
And I think I know who, she didn’t say. She didn’t want to incriminate anyone with evidence against them first. Still, the timing all lined up. None of this started happening until Miss Blake started teaching at the school. The crows, the deer, the sacrifices — it all started after she came. Lydia wasn’t about to dismiss the possibility that it was all a coincidence, but she wasn’t going to fool herself, either. It was all too convenient.
“If there’s another sacrifice tonight, it’s going to start here.” She couldn’t explain how she knew that. But she did. She knew without a doubt that they would find something here. And even if they didn’t, she had to try. She finally had enough time to stop a death before it happened. She wasn’t going to waste it.
This ends tonight, she thought. It has to.
“You know, you could at least move up the seat.” Stiles said, making a face in the rear view mirror at Jackson. “Especially since you wouldn’t let me drive.” He made a disgruntled noise and shifted his legs to move behind Lydia’s seat, careful not to put his shoes on the seats. It was still a Porche, after all.
“That makes sense.” He agreed with Lydia. Everything did seem to have a connection back to the school. “I think for time’s sake, we should start with everyone who is newer to town. New students, new teachers….” He paused. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t a continuous flux of people into Beacon Hills these days. It was interesting, but a fact that could be stored away for another day.
“Do you have any feelings on anything else?” He didn’t mean to pry, or pressure Lydia. He hoped that whatever feelings she had would lead them to the darach. He wanted to finally finish this. He wanted to save the next person. Stiles had seen first hand the tragedy that befell families of the sacrifices, namely Heather’s family. Nobody should have to go through that, and he wanted to prevent it from happening to someone else.
“Shut up, Stiles,” Jackson said good-naturedly, with no real heat of venom in his voice, when Stiles griped about the seat placement. “And don’t even thinking about touching the seat with your shoes and disrupting Lydia or Karen,” He added, shooting a look at Stiles in the rear view mirror, but grinning a little while he did. Lately, their back and forth seemed less like annoyance and more like a funny kind of banter. Jackson did not hate it, surprisingly. “And you’re not driving Karen, and I’m not riding in your deathtrap of a Jeep.”
Looking back over at Lydia, Jackson nodded solemnly. He’d been with her when she’d gotten her feeling– Feeling. Capital F. Lydia’s Feelings, he knew, were different. They weren’t just hunches; they led to something. More often than not, a dead something. Or someone. He hoped that they got their in time today– for the sake of whoever was in danger, and the sake of Lydia. He didn’t want her to have to go through this. It wasn’t fair to her. She was so strong, but she shouldn’t have to deal with this, whatever this was. He just wished there was some way he could be of more help to her.
“You’re right,” Jackson agreed with Lydia. “Everything ties back to the school. Everyone who has been sacrificed or attacked all went to BHHS at some point in time, as a student, a teacher, or anything. And,” He huffed a humorless laugh, “It kind of makes a sick kind of sense. The darach needed to be around a lot of people, according to that map Ally and Rory found. What better way to find victims than at a center like the school? Especially if they needed virgins. I mean, they were less likely to find that at city hall or whatever.” Jackson hit the turn signal and drove down the street towards the high school. “And that was where that scent led me and Danny, too. Well, back to Miss Blake’s classroom, but at the time I thought it was…just…the…crows…” Jackson drifted off, eyes widening as he parked in the school lot and looked back and forth between Lydia and Stiles. “Holy shit.”
He looked between them again. “You don’t think…? I mean, she’s new in town, she’s at the school, it was her classroom that was first hit…except, wait, why the hell would the darach attack her own classroom?” Jackson shook his head. “Maybe I’m wrong. I must be, right?”
With the makings of a smile on her face, Lydia rolled her eyes fondly at the banter. It was different from how it used to be. It was no longer one of them antagonizing the other, or biting remarks cutting into conversation. It sounded closer to the light hearted arguments between Danny and Jackson than anything else, a fact which secretly made Lydia happy. She actually liked Stiles, and felt better knowing Jackson did, too.
Lydia shook her head at Stiles’ question. “I just know that something is going to happen tonight. I don’t know why or…” She waved a hand vaguely at the windshield. “…where. These Feelings don’t give me much to go off of.”
She glanced over Jackson at his prediction. “It makes you second guess,” Lydia noted. “Same reason any killer would pose as a victim. How likely is it that you stab yourself?”
She ran a hand through her hair, frowning at the uncomfortable turning in her stomach. It was getting worse. “And Isaac said something about her the other day, too. Unless Erica’s losing her mind, she saw Blake with Derek. All of this starts happening when she shows up, and she somehow knows Derek now?”
“It isn’t a death trap.” Stiles said seriously, but with a small smirk. “And it’s way to clean in here..... wait, Karen?” There used to be a lot of tension between Jackson and himself. A year ago, Stiles never would have believed he would be sitting in Jackson’s Porche, even in the back seat, bantering with him. He wouldn’t have believed they would have been friends. But the last year had changed them all, at least in certain aspects.
Last year, Stiles was enamored with Lydia. Not that he didn’t still think Lydia was amazing, she truly was one of the most incredible people Stiles knew. He was lucky to have her as a friend. And that’s how he thought of her now - a really great, fascinating, and scarily intelligent friend that he would do anything for. And strangely enough, he would do the same for his now friend, Jackson, too. Jackson took a bit more getting used to and a lot more building of trust, but thankfully, they had reached a point where they could be friends.
Stiles thought to himself, face becoming more serious. “Jackson, you are wrong about many things.” He managed a small smile. “But this time... I think you are right.” He looked over at Lydia and then looked at Jackson again in the rear view mirror before leaning forward uncomfortably towards the front seat. “I think we need to start with Miss Blake’s classroom.”
