TWENTY-FOUR | WHEN THE PARTY'S OVER

xxiv. jackson whittemore's restraining order

          CHARLOTTE STARES AT THE DOCUMENT open on her computer screen with wide eyes as she rereads the passage about the kanima for the fourth time in the last few minutes. Someone's controlling it. Snapping out of her bubble of concentration, she digs into her pocket and pulls out her phone to ring Scott. He and Stiles need to know as soon as possible.

He answers on the first ring and greets her frantically, not leaving her a single second to speak to him. "Jackson's gone," Scott rushes out. "He got out of the—"

But Charlotte doesn't give a damn about the possible consequences Jackson escaping might bring upon them. At least, right now she doesn't. "No, Scott, listen," she interrupts. Her fingers drum against her desktop anxiously. "I read through the bestiary. Someone's pulling the strings; someone's controlling the kanima."

The line is silent for a few seconds until Scott finally whispers in shock, "Oh shit..."

"I know. Look, our biggest problem is that if Jackson doesn't even remember that his alter ego is a giant, rampaging lizard, he's definitely not going to remember that someone's forcing him to do all this crap."

"Holy fuck!" Stiles exclaims in the background, having listened in to the conversation so far. He quickly looks around to make sure no one had heard the vulgar language, and Scott chuckles.

Charlotte frowns. "You know, this kinda reminds me of when Lydia went missing," she recalls. "The doctors called it a fugue state because she didn't remember a thing."

"No... You're right," Scott says slowly in agreement. "He'd forget everything. The murders, covering all of it up..."

"Whoever's behind all this, I know they helped with the videos," she states. "Are we one-hundred percent sure that Whittemore has no clue about any of this?"

Scott shares a look with Stiles. "No," he answers with a sigh. "He doesn't believe us. He still thinks he's becoming a werewolf and that being with Lydia somehow delayed the whole thing..."

She shakes her head in amusement. "What, 'cause she's immune?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Probably. How stupid is he?" Charlotte grins. "Don't answer that," he jumps in before she can reply. "I guess step two is we have to try and convince him he's not, you know... immune."

"But do you think he's gonna be willing to talk?" she points out sceptically, eyes narrowed slightly. "You know, after the whole kidnapping thing?"

Both of the boys scoff. "We did not kidnap him!" Stiles protests defensively. She quietly hums.

"I mean... it's us," Scott says, plastering on a layer of confidence and his usual optimism. "He'll talk to us—"

He's abruptly cut off by Noah Stilinski. "Is that Charlotte?" the man questions the pair. "Tell her..."

"Yeah! Will do, Sheriff!" Scott quickly dismisses. He clears his throat. "So, Jackson's here... with his dad."

Charlotte pinches the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "Fabulous," she mutters under her breath. "Isn't he a fucking lawyer?"

"Yep," Stiles confirms. "And your mom just left. They, uh, they called her in. Charles... she knows."

"Did she look mad?"

With no hesitation, Stiles says, "Very."

She leans back in her chair and sighs. "Well, shit," she mutters.

Approximately ten minutes later, her bedroom door flies open and crashes onto the adjacent wall. Charlotte thinks the plaster might've splinted upon impact.

Natalie Martin glares daggers at her daughter. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she snaps angrily.

She purses her lips. "Do you really want me to answer that?" Charlotte counters.

"Stealing a prison transport van, kidnapping Jackson Whittemore—"

She holds a hand up. "Okay, Scott kidnapped Jackson," she clarifies. "Stiles and I just..." Her lips press into a thin line. "Aided and abetted..."

Her mother sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "I'm not going to ground you." Charlotte's eyes widen in surprise. "Because I know that it's not going to change anything. This is just... I don't—Is everything okay, honey?"

She frowns at the softer tone and reluctantly meets her mother's eyes. Surprisingly the woman is a lot calmer than she expected her to be. "Yeah," she replies quietly. "Yeah, everything's okay, Mom."

"Are you sure? Because after the dance, you've been a little... different. For good reason," Natalie adds hurriedly. She takes a step toward her daughter with concern etched upon her face. "I just worry, sweetheart. That's my job. You know that if you ever want to talk about things, I'm always here."

A small smile stretches onto Charlotte's lips. "Thanks, Mom. And I promise nothing like this will ever happen again." It's an obvious lie, however, if her mother doesn't believe it, she doesn't show it.

Natalie nods and reciprocates the smile. But when it slips away, the girl swallows nervously. "No, you know what?" She folds her arms over her chest. "I'm going to be a tough parent right now." Her voice hardens as she says, "You're grounded."

Charlotte winces. "For the week?"

"I was going to say a few days, but sure! For the rest of the week."

"Aw, crap."

⋆。 ﾟ•*⁀➷ ⋆ ﾟʚଓ ﾟ。 ⋆

The morning sunlight blinds her eyes, and she groans, turning onto her side and burying her face into her pillow. Her curtains are drawn further open, and she mumbles, "Mom, go away."

Natalie walks over to her bed and pulls the covers off her daughter, softly sighing at the state of her. "You didn't even change out of your clothes?" she points out.

"Too tired," Charlotte mutters back. "Let me sleep."

"You have school."

With her face still buried into her pillow, she waves a hand in dismissal. "And?" The pillow is pulled out from under her head, and she opens one of her eyes as her mother walks out the room with it. "Okay, that's not fair!" she yells.

"Go get breakfast."

After pulling on an oversized tee, jeans, and her Converse, Charlotte goes over to her desk to grab her laptop for school. Piling the textbooks (that she had reluctantly moved back into her bedroom) into her bag, her hand hovers over a loose piece of paper. "What the fuck?" she whispers.

Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital. She shakes her head as she reads the written words. It's like someone had taken a landscape photograph of the entrance of the hospital, including the sign, then created an intricate sketch of it. That someone is her.

Charlotte's eyebrows draw together in confusion. All the previous pieces of art had been of reptiles. She since had begun to connect the dots between the lizards and the kanima. But what puzzles her to the point where she has no idea of what could possibly be wrong with her is that her artistic skills had started to develop before she had even seen or known about the creature.

Her eyes flick across the drawing. "Why the hospital?" she questions quietly. She folds the paper up and moves it into a new folder, specifically dedicated to her strange pieces of artwork.

Trying not to trip over her feet down the stairs, she yawns loudly and swings her backpack across to her other shoulder. She passes Lydia also heading in the direction of the kitchen with her makeup done, hair curled, and looking like a runway model. There are two types of people in the morning. "Morning, Dee," she says with another yawn.

Lydia glances her way and her eyes widen. "Wow, you look like shit," she says with a sympathetic frown.

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte puts her bread into the toaster and sits down at the island bench. "I feel like shit," she confirms tiredly.

The strawberry blonde sighs and pulls a chair up beside her. She bites into an apple and frowns in thought. "So, what happened last night?" she questions. "I heard lots of yelling."

"Jackson told on us."

Lydia nods. "Ah," she says simply. That explains everything. "And what's the punishment for abduction, stealing government property, and essentially evading the police?"

"Grounded again," Charlotte grumbles. "For the week."

Lydia arches a brow knowingly at her sister. "That's not going to stop you from doing anything, is it?" she presumes correctly.

With a grin on her lips, she says, "Nope."

As she watches Charlotte smother her half-burnt toast with honey, Lydia clears her throat. "So, you wanna hear some gossip?"

The blonde-haired girl chuckles. "When do I not?" she counters.

Lydia smiles. "I heard Tyler's coming in a few months," she says.

Charlotte's eyes widen as she quickly swallows her mouthful. "Wait, Tyler, Tyler? As in Scott's cousin, Tyler?" Her blue eyes turn to pools of stormy waves, instantly cold at the mere thought of the boy. "As in the Tyler that is the root cause of all my trust issues?"

And it's now where Lydia realises that it was definitely the wrong decision to bring it up. But at the same time, it was better telling her and giving her a heads-up instead of running into the boy when he did eventually arrive. "Yeah," she hesitantly confirms.

"When I think my life can't get any worse..." She trails off, glaring at the white wall opposite her. "I'm proved wrong every fucking time."

Of course, this is the time that their mother decides to walk in. Natalie narrows her eyes at the two girls sitting together. "What was that last bit?" she directs to the blonde.

"I said, time...?"

Lydia rolls her eyes and wraps an arm around her twin as they head out of the house. "She said 'freaking,' Mom," she corrects firmly. "She said 'freaking.'"

⋆。 ﾟ•*⁀➷ ⋆ ﾟʚଓ ﾟ。 ⋆

All five teenagers crowd around a bookcase in the school's library. Briefly looking to Allison beside her, Lydia sighs and passes her iPad through to Scott and Stiles who are on the other side. "This is everything we managed to translate," she says, gesturing between herself and her sister. "If you need more, you'll need to find someone completely fluent in Archaic Latin."

Stiles frowns as he zooms in on the screen. "'The kanima is a weapon of vengeance'? So I was right about how it goes after murderers?"

When Allison nods, he pumps a fist into the air. The twins share a smile. "Yeah," Charlotte confirms. "There's this story in the book about a South American priest who uses the kanima to execute murderers in his village—"

"All right, see?" Stiles interrupts with a small smile. "So, maybe it's not all that bad."

Lydia holds a finger up to the boy. "Until the bond grew strong enough where it just killed whoever he wanted," she concludes.

Stiles' eyes widen in horror. "All bad," he declares nervously. "All very, very bad."

Charlotte nods. "Sounds like whoever's controlling Jackson is pissed off," she says. "And I mean royally pissed off."

Scott stares at the screen in confusion glances to the siblings. "Wait, it says it's a mutation of a werewolf?" His eyebrows furrow. "Did you misread that? 'Cause that thing doesn't have any form of resemblance to one of us."

Lydia shrugs. "No, it's right," she confirms with a nod from Charlotte. "We even went to Ms Morrell for a second opinion because she's the French teacher."

Charlotte kisses her teeth. "Yeah, she understood some of it," she says. "And let me tell you, she was very confused."

Scott raises his eyebrows in amusement. "What did you tell her?" he asks them.

"That we were part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures," Charlotte replies.

Stiles places his head in the middle of the bookshelf, looking straight through to the girls. "I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures." He waves his hand through to point at his best friend. "So are you!"

Charlotte grins. "That's why I used it. There's solid proof if we need." Stiles nods in understanding and shuffles back out of the shelf.

Lydia reaches through the divider and takes the iPad from Scott, scrolling down to a passage. "Here, 'The kanima is supposed to be a werewolf, but it can't be until it resolves that in its past which manifested it.'"

Stiles scoffs. "Okay so if that means that Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy, I could've told you that myself," he says.

Charlotte loudly snorts. "Definitely agree." Her eyes flick around her friends. "But I think everyone in Beacon Hills needs therapy, no offence."

Allison looks around the library and quickly shoves a book into each of Charlotte and Lydia's hands when a teacher walks past. "What if it has something to do with his parents?" she suggests quietly. "I mean, Jackson's real parents?"

"Yeah... Does anybody actually know what happened to them?"

The group turns to Lydia, and she narrows her eyes. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone," she says firmly, not budging whatsoever to the idea of revealing the information.

Stiles turns to the other twin, and she shakes her head, him sighing in disappointment. "Oh no. I am literally the last person on Earth who would have that knowledge." Charlotte waves to her sister dramatically. "She hasn't even told me!"

"If you want to find out, ask him yourself or do some research," Lydia adds. "There's probably heaps of stuff online." She clears her throat and straightens herself. "I don't need any more shit from Jackson."

Charlotte shrugs. "She's got a good point. I mean, that's a really good point. None of us need more shit from Jackson.

Allison nods and places her book down. She looks straight at her boyfriend. "So I'll talk to him myself," she states. "I'm the only other person who he doesn't have a restraining order against."

Stiles once again rests his chin on the bookshelf. "Yeah, and why don't you have a restraining order against him?" he asks curiously.

"What am I supposed to do then?" Scott queries.

Clicking her tongue, Charlotte swipes the tablet from his hands. "You have a make-up exam, remember?" she reminds. "A make-up exam with angry Harris that you don't want to make any angrier by missing it?"

As soon as the iPad is given back to Lydia, the girl pushes it back to her sister. "Keep it for later just in case you need it," Lydia says. "I made another copy onto my laptop."

Scott sighs and he grabs onto one of Allison's hands. "Just—Just be careful with him, okay?" he pleads.

Her lips twitch upward. "I can take care of myself."

Charlotte raises a brow at the confident statement. "I'm sure you can. But we don't know when the ninja turtle wants to come out, so..." She sighs. "Yeah, be careful."

"Yeah! Watch out for anything evil!" Lydia rolls her eyes and pushes Stiles' head back to the other side with Scott. "Good luck, everyone!" the boy calls out a little too loudly. "Missions are commencing!" A nearby librarian glowers at him. "Missions are commencing," he repeats in a loud whisper.

Heading to her locker, Charlotte sighs and opens her phone to look at the multiple texts and missed calls from Erica. She stares at the screen hopelessly. "What the fuck am I meant to do," she mutters to herself. When she lifts her head, she's just in time to realise that she's about to crash into said girl. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry," she rushes out.

Erica shakes her head and smiles. "It's okay, you're all good." She looks down and licks her lips, clearly distracted by something. She clears her throat and locks eyes with her friend. "Can we talk?" she voices softly. Upon seeing Charlotte's hesitation, she quietly adds, "Please?"

The blonde sharply inhales, and after holding a debate inside her brain, she nods. "Yeah, okay." She can't hold what happened against Erica until she knows the whole story. She owes it to her, and more importantly, she owes it to herself.

They walk in silence out to the front of the school and take residence on a lone bench. They sit in the sun in silence for a minute until Erica gathers herself up to blurt out, "I'm so sorry."

Charlotte's eyes flick over to her face. "What?" she speaks quietly.

Erica's eyes squeeze shut as she picks at her nail polish. "I don't know what to do. Can we—I don't know." Her voice wavers with emotion. "Is there any way we can get past this?"

"Erica, you were going to kill me," Charlotte snaps. "My sister and me. We've been friends for—I don't even know how long!" She takes a deep breath, trying to compose herself and store away the anger for a moment. "I just don't understand," she whispers. She takes one of Erica's hands, stopping her anxious fidgeting. "You have to help me understand. Is it Derek?"

Erica's eyebrows furrow. "What do you mean?" she asks, genuinely confused by the question.

"Were you doing it because he wanted you to? Because suddenly you're a different person. And I get being a werewolf must be awesome and that you have all this self-confidence..." Charlotte attempts to swallow the lump in her throat as her eyes well up with fresh tears. "But do you really hate me so much that you'd throw our friendship away for someone you barely know?"

Eyes widening at just how distressed she is, Erica squeezes the girl's hands. "No!" she protests quickly. "Of course, I don't." Her lips purse as she tries to form the right words. "I—I can't explain it. And I know that sounds absolutely awful, but I can't give you an explanation because I don't even understand half this shit myself."

"Look, I don't get this much better than you do," Charlotte says. "Scott didn't have the presence of an Alpha, not like you guys do with Derek, so I really don't know how this whole pack hierarchy relationship works." Her eyes remove off from Erica's face and onto the grains of the wooden tabletop.

Erica squeezes her hands once more and sighs. "Okay, the best way to put it is like there's this invisible pull that makes me want to do what he says," she tries to explain. "And I don't mean like if he asked me to jump off a cliff I would... But more like, I have to do what's in his best interest."

Charlotte frowns. "So, when he asks you to kill me, that's doing what's in his best interest?"

The werewolf's eyes screw shut again at the sharpness in her voice. "No," she says quickly. "No. Look, Lottie, none of us wanted to. Isaac, Boyd, and I, we made a solid argument to him that neither of you were the kanima. But he..."

A small smile adorns Charlotte's face. "He's Derek," she concludes.

Erica chuckles. "Yeah, exactly." She looks directly into her blue eyes as she says, "We made a deal with each other that we wouldn't kill you guys. Derek didn't know; he still doesn't. But we all said that if it came down to it, we'd just hurt you at best. And I know that still sounds terrible but—"

"You weren't going to kill us," Charlotte finishes. Her shoulders drop in relief. She knows Erica isn't lying. It's something about how vulnerable she is right now that makes her believe that the girl before her is telling nothing but the truth.

"We weren't going to kill you," she confirms.

Charlotte brushes a tear off her cheek. "Well, I'd take a mild concussion over being murdered by you any day."

Erica laughs again, but this time it's more light-hearted. "Yeah, I'd agree with you any day. Just..." She looks down again. "I'll do anything to fix this, Charlotte," she says seriously. "I'll give you as much time as you need, as much space as you need, but I promise that I'll do literally anything to—"

Being interrupted in the middle of a conversation isn't anything new to Charlotte Martin. Actually, it's been a major part of her life for as long as she can remember.

She rolls her eyes as Stiles races up to them and grabs onto her arm. His eyes widen at the girl beside Charlotte. "Uh, h—hi, Erica!" he says, a little surprised that they're talking. "Charles, we got to go."

She smiles apologetically at Erica. "Talk later?" she asks.

Erica returns the smile at her and nods. And as they walk off, she calls out after them, "By the way, if you're wondering about Jackson's real parents, they're about half a mile from here; in Beacon Hills Cemetery."

Stiles and Charlotte spin around in shock. "What?" the former questions loudly. He takes a step forward. "Do you know how they died?"

Erica shrugs. "Maybe," she answers nonchalantly.

Rolling her eyes in amusement, Charlotte clears her throat. "And do you maybe wanna tell us?"

"Maybe." Erica's smile morphs into a frown, and she quickly grabs her bag. "It's him, isn't it?"

"What? Him who?"

"Yep."

Stiles gasps in alarm as he whips around to Charlotte. "Dude!" he yells.

She rolls her eyes once more. "They were all gonna find out eventually. We should work together. You know, go team!" Glancing down at her phone as it pings, Charlotte breaks off into a run, leaving Erica and Stiles behind to stare at her in confusion.

( 2:13 PM ) Scooter: allison's in trouble

( 2:13 PM ) Scooter: wanna punch jackson?

( 2:13 PM ) Scooter: locker room

Ignoring the numerous stares following her as she barges past students, she bursts into the locker room just in time to see Scott charge at Jackson. Charlotte's eyes widen and she spots Allison fearfully watching on in the corner, arms folded across her body. "Hey, shit, are you okay?"

Her eyes find Charlotte's face. "Y—Y eah. Yeah." Allison nods over to the boys. "But they aren't."

As Jackson slams into a row of lockers, causing them to topple over onto one another like dominos, Scott glances over his shoulder to nod at Charlotte. She quickly scans the room and, deciding not to risk punching him due to his kanima side, picks up a rather heavy looking weight and chucks it at Jackson's exposed arm. It's not thrown hard enough to break bone, but it most definitely will leave a satisfying bruise.

She grins widely as she watches the boy grit his teeth in anger, glaring heatedly in her and Scott's directions. "I have a restraining order!" Jackson yells furiously.

Scott clenches his fist. "Oh, trust me," he says. "She restrained herself." His eyes narrow. "We're both restraining ourselves."

Allison looks over to her best friend in worry. "We have to stop this before it gets any further," she stresses.

Charlotte hesitates as Jackson is flung into the wall, taking a mental picture for the future. But when she looks back over to Allison, she groans in defeat, knowing she's right. "Fine," she concedes. "Yep, I can't afford another detention this month."

Jackson darts toward Scott and throws him on top of a sink, the ceramic almost instantly crumbling to pieces from his weight. The werewolf growls in response, eyes glowing a vibrant golden.

Allison nudges her side. "Grab one side of Jackson when he's distracted," she instructs quietly.

Charlotte shakes her head in disbelief. "Look, I'm really pissed right now, but even I can admit that we have no chance against him."

Allison throws her hands up. "Then I'm out of ideas!" She rolls her eyes at her best friend's hesitation once again. "And no, we aren't waiting for one of them to get knocked out!"

Scott is flung towards the door and out into the corridor, Jackson hot on his heals. He straddles the boy to throw a punch, but Erica grips hold of him, locking an arm around his throat.

Stiles grabs onto Scott and pulls him away from his opponent before he can inflict any further damage. The remaining girls in the room quickly exit, Charlotte watching Erica who is struggling to keep Jackson still, even with her supernatural strength.

Sighing, she resorts to the action she had hoped she wouldn't have to use today. Jackson groans in pain and he falls unconscious once a fist is sent to his eye. "That was me un-restraining myself," she mutters.

Erica looks down to the unconscious teenager in her arms and releases her grip, allowing him to slump to the floor.

"What the hell is going on here? Hey! Enough! Enough."

Allison grabs onto Charlotte's hand when a new voice enters the scene. The latter clenches her jaw in frustration. "Of course he's here," she hisses.

"What do all of you idiots think you're doing? Of course. A Martin and Stilinski in the centre of this." Adrian Harris moves his attention onto the other boy. "How about you, Mr McCall? Do you want to explain yourself?"

Scott gulps nervously as he looks at the scene in front of him: Charlotte and Allison stand next to the locker room door that is wide open, exposing the aftermath of the violent struggle inside, Jackson unconscious on the ground, and Erica standing next to his body.

"Stilinski? You?"

Charlotte scoffs. "Seriously?" she says flatly. "We're still on 'you'?"

Another voice pipes in, "You dropped this." Matt innocently holds Lydia's iPad out to Scott, but with the glare still permanently etched into his face, Harris snatches it away.

Charlotte narrows her eyes at Matt's sudden interjection. He had been standing there for a few minutes. Why only now give it back when he could have handed it to anyone other than Scott?

"You and you—actually, all of you, detention. Three o'clock."

⋆。 ﾟ•*⁀➷ ⋆ ﾟʚଓ ﾟ。 ⋆

"'Hi,'" Charlotte reads her text aloud. "'Won't be home after school. Volunteering to put books away in the library.'" She looks to Stiles whose eyebrows have raised as he looks at the message sent to her mother. "You reckon she'll buy it?" she asks, hope tinging her words.

He lets out a laugh. "Oh, Charles," he says with a sigh. His smile drops. "No way in hell."

"Should've said I was helping Coach," she scolds herself. "Way more believable." Shoving her phone away into her pocket, she pulls a chair out next to Allison as they sit next to one another across from Scott and Stiles.

As soon as Jackson sets his eyes on them, he clears his throat. "Oh, no. We can't be in detention together," he tells Harris. "I have a restraining order against these tools."

Their teacher motions around the room at his words. "All of these tools?" he asks.

Stiles sighs, pointing to himself and his best friends. "No, just us tools..."

"Fine. You three, over there."

Rolling her eyes, Charlotte picks her books up and moves with the boys to the table directed by Harris, far away from the other three. She drops her head in her hands and groans, scowling at Jackson who smirks in their direction. "God, I hate him!" she seethes.

Scott nods in agreement. "I'm gonna kill him," he states.

Stiles holds a finger up. "No, no. No, you're not. Neither of you are going to physically hurt him. You're going to found out who's controlling him, then you're both going to help me save him."

Scott looks behind his shoulder then turns back. "No," he says. "You were right, let's kill him."

Stiles grimaces. "Ah, shit..."

"I never thought I would be saying this again, but we are not killing Jackson!" Said teenager's head snaps over to their direction at Charlotte's loud voice and she sheepishly smiles at the boys who glare at her. "Too loud, sorry."

Stiles' brows furrow with interest. "So, what happened with Allison?" he questions the werewolf.

"She found the kanima instead of Jackson."

Stiles frowns and looks behind to where Allison is sitting with Jackson and Matt, Erica on a table of her own. "Why did she go into the boy's locker room?" he queries.

Tuning out their conversation, Charlotte locks eyes with Matt and smiles at him. After he returns it and looks down to open a packet of popcorn, she narrows her eyes and bites her lip in concentration. Snapping out of her daze by Scott's fingers clicking in front of her eyes, she looks over to him. "What?" she asks impatiently.

"What's wrong?" he counters.

Her eyes narrow further. "I don't know..."

Stiles follows her line of sight and his jaw drops. "You think the same?" he says excitedly.

"Yeah," she confirms. "If you're thinking that I'm agreeing with whatever your thinking, I'm thinking the same."

Scott blinks in confusion. "Huh?"

"Matt," Charlotte clarifies. "I don't like him. I think I was blinded by my approval for him absolutely roasting Jackson the other week. It was phenomenal by the way; you should've heard it."

Stiles rolls his eyes, donning a more serious demeanour than her. "What if it's Matt?" he suggests to Scott. "I mean, this whole thing comes back to the video, right?"

Lifting his head up from laying on the table, Scott slowly nods. "Yeah," he says. "Danny said that Matt was the one who found the two hours of footage missing."

"It's serial killer behaviour," Charlotte states. She twirls her pen in her fingers, her gaze remaining on the boy sitting with Allison. "He finds the videos to make it look like he's all innocent. He's trying to involve himself into our 'investigation' to make himself seem less suspicious. But in doing so, he's making himself more suspicious."

"Yes!" Stiles exclaims. "He's trying to throw the heat off him."

Scott's brows knit together. "So, he makes Jackson kill Isaac's dad—"

"Well deserved by the way," Charlotte mutters.

"—one of Argent's hunters, and the mechanic working on your Jeep?"

"Yes!" Stiles hisses.

"Why?"

The boy purses his lips as he hesitates. "Because..." His eyes squint. "He's evil."

Scott turns to his other best friend expectantly. "And?"

"I'm not sure," Charlotte admits. She chews on the inside of her cheek as she continues to stare at Matt. "He just... Something about him bothers me. Can't explain it."

"You just don't like him," Scott concludes.

Stiles sighs and points over to the table across the room. "No, she's right," he says. "I don't know what it is. Scott, just look at his face!"

They watch Matt hold his bag of popcorn over to Jackson with a smile. Charlotte groans, and Scott chuckles. "Any other theories?" he asks them.

Phone buzzing in her pocket, Charlotte takes it out and frowns at the message from Lydia.

( 3:04 PM ) thing 2 ♡: if you come home and i'm not here, just taking a walk to find this weird guy's house x

( 3:04 PM ) thing 1 ♡: isn't a little weird you don't even know his name dee?

( 3:05 PM ) thing 1 ♡: send me the address so i know where to find you if you don't text again

The room is silent for the next twenty minutes apart from the occasional rustle of the packet of popcorn. When Charlotte finally reaches counting to the one-thousandth sheep, she grins, and Scott looks over to her in question.

Before she can brag about her accomplishment, Harris interrupts her moment. "Jackson? Are you all right? Hey, you don't look so good..." The trio frown as they watch Jackson hurry out the library, his face pale and sweat dripping down his forehead. Harris turns back to the remaining students. "No one leave their seats."

When he leaves to follow the boy, Charlotte immediately beelines over to Erica's table. The blonde-haired werewolf continues writing in her notebook as the three sit down around her. "He said not to leave your seats," she points out.

Charlotte arches a brow. "Do you know me at all?" she retorts. She waves a hand to the boys. "Do you know any of us?"

"Fair enough." Erica sighs and looks up at them. "What do you want?"

Stiles' eyes widen. "What makes you think we want something?"

Scott rolls his eyes. "They say you know how Jackson's parents died," he says.

Erica's lips curl into a small smile. "Maybe."

Charlotte holds a hand in front of Scott to stop him from saying anything further. "I'll get you that necklace you've wanted since your fourteenth birthday," she declares.

Erica bites back a wider smile and sets her book down. "It was a car accident," she says quietly. "My dad was the insurance investigator, and every time he sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche, he makes some comment about the huge settlement he'll be getting when he's eighteen."

Charlotte stares at her. "I'm sorry," she says dryly. "Are you kidding me?"

Stiles shakes his head as he tries to wrap his thoughts around the idea. "So, not only is Jackson rich now, but he's getting even richer at eighteen?"

Erica nods. "Yup," she confirms.

Charlotte shudders. She doesn't want to be around to see that version of him. "That is so insanely fucked," she states.

Sighing, Erica glances from her and over to the boys. "If you give me a few minutes, I could try to find the insurance report on my dad's inbox," she says, gesturing to her laptop. "He keeps everything."

Then the PA system crackles to life overhead. "Scott McCall, please report to the principal's office," the voice announces.

Everyone in the room turns to Scott, and Charlotte tuts disapprovingly. "What did you do now?" He rolls his eyes at her and gathers his things before rushing out the room.

It takes Erica approximately two minutes to log into her father's email. Frowning at the screen, Charlotte points to a paragraph. "Hold on, there. 'Passengers arrived at a hospital DOA. Estimated time of death, nine-twenty-six PM, June fourteenth, nineteen-ninety-five'."

Stiles frowns. "That can't be right," he says quietly. "Jackson's birthday is June fifteenth."

Charlotte sighs, wondering what her life has come to where she knows Jackson Whittemore's birthday. She takes another look at the document. "No, it's right. It means she was dead when the doctors performed a caesarean." Stiles and Erica look back to her in confusion. "A C-section," she clarifies. "She died, but they managed to cut Jackson out of her body and he survived."

The room's attention turns to Harris who comes back inside with Jackson. The man goes to pack his bag and when everyone stands up to leave, he laughs humourlessly. "Oh, I'm sorry," he calls out to them. "Yes, I'm leaving, but none of you are. You may go when you're done with the reshelving."

"You legally can't keep us here anymore!" Charlotte yells after him. He smiles at her and walks out. She slumps back into her seat and groans. "I hate him. I'm going to kill him. Someone needs to kill him, I swear to God, or I will do it myself."

After methodically creating a system for shelving, Charlotte takes multiple books off the trolley and hands them to Erica who has the job of returning them to their rightful place. However, she hesitates as she spots in her peripheral vision Jackson place a hand to his forehead, a tear rolling down his cheek.

She takes a moment to strongly question whether she should even be doing what she is planning to do, then turns back to Erica. "Give me a few minutes, I'll be back." Erica nods, although thoroughly confused, and Charlotte walks around to the adjacent aisle where Jackson stands staring at the spine of a book. "Jackson?" she speaks up hesitantly. "Are you okay?"

The boy spins around with a scowl. "You legally can't be standing in front of me," he snaps impatiently.

She rolls her eyes and holds both her hands up. "Sorry for having a moment of human decency." And as she turns back to return to Erica, she hears a sigh.

"No, I'm not." Charlotte's lips dip into a frown, and she walks closer to Jackson, keeping an amicable distance as she takes a seat on top of a lone table. "I'm apparently some serial killer, without even knowing I am one, I'm seeing shit—" His eyes close and his voice raises in frustration, "And I am so sick of being treated like I'm constantly the bad guy."

Charlotte tilts her head. "Well, I mean... most of the time you are." In hindsight, that definitely wasn't the right thing to say.

Jackson's eyes roll. "Why the fuck am I talking to you?" he retorts. "Get the fuck away from me before I call Stilinski."

She inhales a deep breath. "Okay, wait." His jaw clenches. "Look, I know we have this insanely competitive rivalry, hatred thing for one another. But I know what it's like to not have anyone, even when you have people who are physically there, family or friends." Charlotte gnaws on her lip. "It's not your fault, well... not all of it I guess." He rolls his eyes again, trying to avoid another tear from falling. "Jackson, we have a hell of a lot more in common than either of us want to admit."

He gives her a short nod, surprise and perhaps a sliver of respect flashing across his face. "Thanks, I guess," he responds quietly.

Charlotte refrains herself from smiling. Never in her life has she ever heard something akin to the words she had just heard fall out of Jackson Whittemore's mouth. She clears her throat. "And now I'm going to walk away and pretend this never happened," she says.

"Great, seriously, get the fuck away from me. I will call Stilinski."

When she joins Erica back by the trolley, she rolls her eyes at the wide grin on her friend's face. "What?" she asks with a sigh.

"I think I just witnessed a goddamn miracle," Erica whispers in shock.

Charlotte snorts. "You heard?"

"No, I didn't listen in," Erica denies. "But just seeing you walk willingly in the vicinity of him..." Her smile widens. "I'm so, so proud."

And she can't help but smile back as they return to finishing the task set by Harris. "It never happened," Charlotte mutters lowly.

"Oh, one hundred percent. I never saw a thing."

But it's when her chuckles fade away that Charlotte realises that something is terribly wrong. When she follows Erica's line of sight, her heart drops.

"Get down!" Erica yells.

Sparks fly overhead as lightbulbs shatter, glass raining down like a hailstorm onto those below. Charlotte's eyes widen in fear as she grips onto Erica's hand tightly, both girls spinning around as they try to find the cause of the sudden destruction.

"What the fuck is happening?" Charlotte calls out. She cries out in pain when a piece of debris hits her shoulder. Erica pulls her closer, her eyes glowing golden and fangs baring as she tries to shield her friend from any further infliction of pain.

Somewhere amongst the chaos they hear Stiles shout, "It's Jackson!"

A growl rumbles within Erica's throat, and somehow her eyes glow impossibly brighter. She glances quickly to Charlotte clutching her arm in pain, then releases her hold on the girl's hand as she darts out to find the kanima.

Eyes widening in fear, Charlotte's heart thuds faster as her friend disappears out of sight. Suddenly, a bookshelf crashes beside her, and she jumps out of the way just in time before it crushes her foot.

As she rushes through the library to try and find any one of her friends, she hesitates after looking down an aisle, finding Matt face down on the floor with a large cut on the back of his neck. She almost groans in disappointment. So much for that theory.

But then an all-familiar scream reaches her ears. Charlotte's heart drops. "Erica!" As she turns the corner, she sees the girl's body laying lifelessly on the floor. She isn't dead. Upon closer inspection, she's been paralysed, just like Matt.

Charlotte falls to her knees beside her and makes quick work of turning Erica onto her back. She falters as she notices the golden eyes focus onto something behind her. So, she takes a deep breath and slowly turns around to see what Erica is so fearful of.

It's Jackson. And he doesn't look like they've seen him before. He's the kanima, but not the kanima they're all so accustomed to. Half his body is covered in the dark, green-sapphire-coloured scales of the creature, and his slitted eyes mimic a lizard's as he stares at them. He's still human, in a sense.

To the side, Charlotte spots Scott who has returned from the principal's office, staring at Erica in shock. Raising her eyebrows, she subtly yet urgently motions for him to do something.

The kanima lets out a screech, and still in the body of Jackson, charges straight at Scott. Trying to ignore their fight, Charlotte turns back to the paralysed girl before her. Brushing strands of Erica's sweaty blonde hair out of her eyes, she nervously looks over to Allison and Stiles now beside her. "What do we do?" she asks them frantically. "Do we risk taking her to the hospital?"

But when her best friends remain silent, Charlotte follows their line of sight to Jackson who now stands at a blackboard in the centre of the room. His body moves stiffly like a robot as he lifts an arm to scrawl words on the board. Stay out of my way or I'll kill all of you, it reads.

Stiles nods and huffs a small sigh. "Well, that's just lovely," he murmurs.

The kanima crawls up the wall and breaks out of the skylight in the ceiling, the group on the ground covering their bodies from the falling glass.

Feeling her hand begin to shake, Charlotte's head snaps down to see Erica's knuckles white, gripping onto her hand in a bone crushing hold. Allison, Scott, and Stiles look to Charlotte in concern, none of them sure of what to do.

Remembering the procedure on what to do when someone is having a seizure from when Erica had her epilepsy, she gently turns the girl onto her side. Scott moves to hold her down, but Charlotte quickly holds a hand to stop him. "No," she states firmly. "No one touch her unless we need to. Someone check on Matt. We need to get her out of here once it stops."

Allison takes a small step forward. "Why can't we move her now?" she asks worriedly.

Charlotte unzips the leather jacket wrapped around Erica's body, and the werewolf gasps for air, muscles spasming. "It's too dangerous," she explains shortly. "Everybody needs to stay calm." When none of the three move, her eyes narrow with frustration and she raises her voice, still trying to remain as calm and collected as possible. "Somebody check on Matt." She takes a steady breath and places Erica's head in her lap. "Almost over," she whispers reassuringly.

A few seconds later, Allison yells out, "He's okay! Jackson got him, but he's alive."

Charlotte looks back down to Erica just as her seizing stops. She motions for Scott to come help lift her up. "We need to get her out of here in case another one starts," she instructs.

Scott nods. "Hospital?" he suggests.

Erica grabs onto Charlotte's wrist desperately as their eyes lock. "No. To D—Derek," she says breathlessly. "Only to Derek."

As Scott meets Charlotte's apprehensive gaze, he hesitates before running over to Allison who is with the other victim of the kanima.

Stiles moves to assist her, and they slowly help Erica over to the exit doors of the library.

Allison nods to her boyfriend. "Scott, it's fine," she reassures him, gesturing to the trio on the other side of the room. "Go!"

"But it doesn't feel right!" he protests.

Charlotte snaps. "Oh, Scott, I don't give a shit what does or doesn't feel right. Matt's going to be fine, and Erica needs to leave right now. And we need you to carry her, she's still paralysed, so please, for once, put your fucking relationship to the side for a damn minute."

Allison's lips slightly upturn at her words. Not many people can get through to Scott, and she's just glad Stiles and Charlotte are here to be those to do just that.

Stiles sighs, looking at his extremely frazzled best friend who is frantically trying to get Erica out of danger. "I'll stay here with Allison," he voices. "Scott, you need to help Charles." Before he can protest any further, Stiles runs forward and roughly drags Scott over to the pair of girls, slightly smiling at Charlotte in reassurance. "Go."

"Don't need to tell me twice." When they eventually reach Charlotte's car, she quickly backs out of the parking lot, looking over her shoulder to Scott and Erica in the back. "Where is Derek's Bat Cave? I have no idea where to go."

"I'll direct you," Erica says quietly.

Barging into the abandoned train station ahead of Scott and Erica, Charlotte's eyes flick around the surroundings to find any sign of the Alpha they so desperately need. "Derek!" she yells urgently. "Derek, it's Erica!"

He appears out of one of the train cars, and as soon as he locks eyes on Erica in Scott's arms, his eyes widen in alarm. "Shit, bring her over here," he demands. "Quick!"

As the girl is set down on the dusty floor of the train car, Charlotte gently moves Erica's head into her lap once again, threading her fingers through the knotted blonde hair as a reminder that she's still here. And she's not going anywhere.

Keeping hold of her hand, Erica groans and her body begins to seize up. As Charlotte meets Derek's eyes, she pleads to him to save her. "This is her second one in half an hour. Derek, you need to do something." Her voice cracks as she adds, "Please." He nods and gently takes hold of one of Erica's arms, pulling the sleeve of her shirt to further expose her skin.

Scott's eyes widen as he realises that he has zero idea of what could possibly happen. "What are you going to do to her?" he asks in concern.

Charlotte's eyes narrow. "Just shut up and let him do it," she snaps a little too heatedly.

Derek takes a deep breath and the two crouched beside him wince when the sound of bone snapping fills the air. A blood-curdling scream rings through Charlotte's ears and she bites back her own tears as she struggles to watch. "It'll trigger the healing process," Derek tells them quickly. "I still gotta get the venom out."

Tears stream down Erica's face as Derek brings his claws out, digging them deeply into her skin. Erica's screams reach a higher pitch and an almost black shade of blood seeps out of her arm.

When her eyes flutter closed and her body falls limp, Charlotte's lips part in shock and her hands shakily hover over Erica's body. "Derek?" she says softly. "W—What's h—"

"She's alive," he reassures them quietly, exhaling another deep breath. "She's just passed out from the pain. She'll be okay." He carefully removes his claws from Erica's arm and stands up, wiping the blood away on his jeans. "Scott, a word?"

He looks to Charlotte, and she waves a hand, nodding him on. She doesn't want to leave Erica alone. "Go," she tells him with a small smile.

Once the two disappear out of the car, she leans her head back against a cracked leather seat and sighs, a large weight of pressure lifting off her back. As her shoulder rests against the rusted metal, she hisses in pain, feeling the bruise forming from earlier. She shuts her eyes. This was too close. Way too close.

They need to stop Jackson before he ends up killing someone they know.

𝘖𝘬 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦'𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢, 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘚𝘤𝘰𝘵𝘵'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘶𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘒𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘏𝘌𝘙. 𝘚𝘰 𝘐'𝘮 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢-𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘋𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘬'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘉𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘱𝘩𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘥𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘚𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘚2, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐𝘴𝘢𝘢𝘤 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘌𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢 𝘋𝘐𝘋 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘴.