𝟑𝟗 , 𝐝𝐚-𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤

✯☾✯

𝐋𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐚𝐤 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞, its broad branches offering a patch of shade against the strength of the sun. She was slumped forward, exhaustion etched into every line of her face.

Her clothes were disheveled, an amis of dirt and blood staining them. Her hands, though carefully cleaned by Isaac. still trembled slightly from the adrenaline that had surged through her veins not long ago.

The weight of the day was shining down on her as the sun sunk, casting long shadows along Beacon Hill's reserve.

She had saved a life today, yet the reality of it all felt surreal. What if she hadn't been there? What if she had failed?

The softness of Isaac's touch drifting up and down her forearm reminded her that she hadn't. Boyd was alive, he was still with them.

The thought brought a small, tired smile to her lips despite the fact she felt utterly drained.

After the events had unfolded, Isaac had insisted that he whisked Lizzie away to build her strength back up and give her time to calm down.

The soft hum of bees buzzing lazily around the wildflowers filled the air. The wolf and the pixie sat side by side, soaking in the last of the day's sunlight and the beauty of the meadow around them.

They didn't speak, only sat in comfortable, loving silence together, their hands intertwined.

The picturesque meadow seemed to cradle the couple protectively with its beauty. Lizzie reached over to cradle Isaac's face, and that's when he noticed something moving in the tall grass at the edge of the clearing.

"Lizzie, look," he whispered, pointing towards the bushes. Lizzie turned, following his gaze. Emerging slowly from the underbrush was a coyote. Its coat, a mix of tawny and gray, blended almost seamlessly with the surroundings. The animal moved with a cautious grace, its eyes alert but not fearful.

"It's a coyote," Isaac murmured, his voice tinged with awe.

"It's gorgeous," Lizzie whispered back, star-struck by the magnificent creature. She reached her arm out as the animal drew nearer. Isaac quickly caught it, pulling her back cautiously.

The coyote stopped a few feet away from them, sitting back on its haunches and tilting its head, observing the couple with bright, intelligent eyes. It seemed to be waiting for some kind of signal. Tentatively, Lizzie extended her hand, palm up, in a gesture of peace. Isaac breathed out.  The coyote sniffed the air, then took a few cautious steps forward, its nose twitching as it caught the scent of the other wolf.

"She's definitely a girl." Lizzie decided, as the coyote brushed softly against the skin of the pixie's knee.

Isaac chuckled, watching them fondly, "Oh really? How do you know?"

He leaned in, pressing fluttering kisses to her cheek.

Lizzie giggled at his touch, lovingly patting the blissful animal, "I just do."

Isaac hummed, unconvinced, as Lizzie nestled into his side. She looked up at him, her ocean iris' lighting up with her sparkle again.

He rolled his eyes but couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face. "You're exhausting, you know that?" he grumbled, but his tone was affectionate.

Lizzie laughed, a sound that seemed to brighten the very air around them. She reached up, tracing the line of his jaw with her fingertips.

The sun rays caressed the couple gracefully, reflecting against the blue of Isaac's eyes and the shimmer of the highlighter that dusted Lizzie's cheeks

"I know."

✯☾✯

The door of the jeep clicked open briskly as Stiles held it against the light wind, allowing Lizzie to clamber from the vehicle and onto the rough concrete. Her tongue poked out the corner of her glossed lips, she stared at her sparkled shoes,  artful with her footing.

"Lyds!" The girl greeted the approaching red head softly along with Allison.

The ferocious roar of the engine of Scott's motorbike pulled up beside the group, the wolf swung his leg over the bike and joined the rest of the teens in a small huddled.

"It's the same thing. The same thing as the pool," Lydia explained, her face creased in trepidation as she referred to her last unusual experience in which her subconscious led her to the dead body of another supposed sacrifice.

"I got into the car and things felt totally different... and I ended up here..."

Lydia gestured to the desolate parking lot outside their high school, shrouded in the darkness of the night.

"...And you told me to call you if I found a dead body."

Stiles' jaw fell slack as he absorbed Lydia's words, "What? You found a dead body?"

"Lydia, what if you're the grim reaper." Lizzie suggested I'm hopes of aiding the situation but, no body payed any mind to her, they were all too wrapped up within this murderous cloud that had struck the town, also conjoined with the fact each of Lizzie's friends had gained the ability the drown out her whimsical ideas.

"Not yet." Lydia said.

"Not yet? What do you mean not yet? Lydia, you're supposed to call us after you find the dead body." Stiles huffed in  annoyance, his arms moving manically.

"Oh no I'm not doing that again," Lydia stuck her finger up in Stiles face defiantly. "From now on you find the dead body."

Stiles scoffed and pair began their bickering, but, in Lizzie's mind, she knew this was their way of secretly flirting. When she'd mentioned this theory to Isaac, he was positively surprised but his sock didn't root from Lydia and Stiles' methods of secretly expressing their attraction, but more so that Lizzie had managed to pick up on those feelings.

As the Stiles and Lydia quarrelled, something caught Scott's eye, leading him away from the group.

"Guys.. I found the dead body." He stated emptily.

The chatter died down and everyone's gaze followed Scott's. Sure enough, a body lay draped over the high school sign, blood spilling aimlessly from it, coating the white rock in bright crimson.

Before anyone had time to react, to question the motive behind this, the possibility of it being another sacrifice, a sharp noise came from behind the group, like a stick being snapped.

Already on high alert, the five teens whipped around to meet the face of a tall fiery haired girl. She wore a tight, hot pink shirt and short blue shirt. Everything about her was bright and colourful, she stood out shamelessly against the only backdrop.

"Annie?" Lizzie recognised the fellow pixie.

Annie Ignis grinned broadly, her full lips extending to the apple of her rosy cheeks.

"Who's this again?" Allison asked, her guard rigid and firm.

"Annie," Lizzie repeated her name, "The other pixie I was telling you guys about. She saved my life."

Stiles made a grunt of acknowledgement but shook his head and narrowed his eyes. His gut churned at the site of her. Her smile was to wide, her stance was too self assure, her posture too perfect.

✯☾✯

Stiles had tried his very best to conceal his body behind a painted brick pillar outside his school, his limbs locked tight into his body, unmoving, despite the fact that he knew if his father and his officers turned his way, they would spot him immediately.

Not only that, they'd also spot Lizzie behind him, who clung onto Stiles' blue flannel as she peered from behind him.

As unwaveringly expected, Noah Stilinski spotted the two teens very quickly and removed himself from his conversation.

When Stiles spotted his father approaching them, he panicked, frantically shoving Lizzie out the way and trying to hide behind his backpack.

"Hey, hey, hey! Back it up!" Noah scolded, beckoning Stiles over to him and also offering Lizzie, who had stumbled after Stiles' very forceful shove, a hand.

"Guys, i know what you're thinking," Noah began, predicting exactly what was running through Stiles' head, "I know you've got all these ideas about patterns and people dying in threes."

Stiles kissed his teeth in a dismissive scoff, "Dad, murders." he corrected, "Sacrifices actually."

"I got half the state, including the FBI coming in on this." Noah informed the pair, it was clear he was tired, this case was exhausting him. "They're not getting away with killing one of her own."

Stiles winced as Noah referred to his friend and Lizzie gently clutched his arm as a form of comfort.

"Dad, they killed Tara. You know, how many times has she helped me with my math homework when i had to wait at the station for you?"

Noah sighed, pain etched in his brow, "Just...get to class, okay?"

The pair of teens watched the sherif slowly stalk away and Lizzie hummed quietly.

"You know, we don't have to leave it all down to them. We could help them out a bit, with our inside knowledge."

Stiles shook his head as he tugged Lizzie along towards their class, "I'm pretty sure that would involve telling my Dad everything."

"Not necessarily," Lizzie persisted in an attempt to be the slightest bit helpful for once, "Maybe Annie knows something, i haven't got a chance to speak with her yet."

Stiles shut down that idea fast. "I don't trust her. For all we know, she could be the cause of these sacrifices. Why else would she have been here last night?"

Before Lizzie got a chance to reply
and attempt to blindly defend the girl, they turned the corner into their English classroom with Miss Blake.

Lizzie took her seat in the classroom, she removed her pink backpack from her shoulder and pulled out all her recourses.

Stiles threw her a quizzical look, it was unusual for Lizzie to not only be so prepared for a lesson but also so eager to learn.

The pixie only shrugged, unzipping her glittery pencil case and extending one of her scented pens towards Stiles who took it reluctantly as despite the fact he did not want to write in a baby pink ink that smelt like candy floss, he'd forgotten his own pen.

Miss Blake began her lesson and Lizzie took special care to try and keep up with her notes. But, she was clearly not built for activities such as these.

By the time Lizzie had finished writing her heading (IDIOMS in bubble writing and purple highlighter), Miss Blake had briskly moved on.

So, Lizzie gave up her feeble attempt on an 'academic comeback' and fell back into her usual ways. Doodling.

She was mid way through drawing Lydia as a hamster in a pretty dress when her own scented pen was forcefully hurled at her forehead.

Lizzie glanced up to Stiles next to her, she was able to ignore the quiet ache in her head as of the numerous times her friend had chucked stuff at her.

"Listening?" Scott questioned, raising his eyebrow. 

Lizzie sucked ima short breath, "Idioms."

She lifted her pad of paper up and tapped at the word carefully scribbled down.

Stiles shook his head at her partially confident response, "Not to her, to us."

"How do we get Aiden away from Ethan?"

Knocking her pen against her chin, deep in a stage of wonder, Lizzie thought for a moment before she lifted her pad of paper one again and pointed to her finished drawing of Hamster Lydia.

✯☾✯

It was after lunch when Scott and Stiles believed it was the perfect time to corner Ethan.

"Why are you even talking to me?" The alpha twin exclaimed, the four teens stood in an empty stairwell, "I helped to try and kill your friend, how do you know i'm not going to try and kill another one?"

Ethan's eyes fell on Lizzie, he'd be informed about what she did for Boyd, how she saved him. It was extraordinary.

"Is he looking at me? Is he-," Stiles paused, Ethan's threat lingering. "Oh, you're looking at Lizzie."

The Stilinski boy scoffed, pushing himself up from the wall he was leaning on, "Are you really threatening her? You know what i'm going to do? I'm going to break off an extra large branch of mountain ash, wrap it in wolfsbane, roll it in mistletoe and shove it right up your freaking-"

"Whoa, Stiles," Scott pulled him back, half laughing at his outburst of protectiveness for his best friend, "We get it."

Stiles quietened, but kept his strong stance in front of Lizzie, his hazel eyes narrowed.

"We're talking to you, because i know that you didn't want to kill Boyd and i think that if something like that happened now, you wouldn't do it again." Scott explained in a much calmer manor.

"You don't know what we owe them," Ethan responded, "Especially Deucalion. We weren't like Kali and Ennis when we met him. We weren't alphas."

"What we're you?"

"Omegas."

It was then, Lizzie's opinions on the twin boys transformed drastically. In some ways, they were just like them. Forced into this life just like Scott was only they'd fallen on the other end of the morality spectrum.

Ethan sighed, it was clear that he didn't want to share this information. Him and Aiden were controlled so strictly, punished so harshly. His pack was so different to Scott's.

"I'm actual wolf packs, omegas are the scapegoat, the last to eat, the last one who has to take the abuse from the rest of the back."

Stiles took his chance to launch another jab at Ethan, "So, you and your brothers were, like, the bitches of the pack?"

The alpha pack seemed to be a dictatorship of violence and toxicity. They lived alongside a rigid food chain and at some point in the past, Ethan and Aiden were at the very bottom.

"Something like that." Ethan shook off Stiles' comment.

"What happened?" Lizzie pressed, her tone much more faint than her friends. She hoped it would have a positive effect on Ethan and it would will him into telling them more.

"They were killers," Ethan met the pixie's supple eyes, immediately finding his limbs relaxing, becoming less tense, "I mean, people talk about us as monsters. Well, they were the ones who gave us the reputation. And our Alpha was the worst of them."

"Well why didn't you guys just fight back? Form volton wolf, you know? Kick everyone's asses?" Stiles asked.

Ethan's anger rose, his patience running thin, "We couldn't, we didn't know how to control it back then."

"Deucalion taught you." Scott pieced together.

"And then, we fought. We took down the whole pack, one-by-one, and by the time we got our alpha, he was begging for his life. And we tore him apart. Literally." Ethan recounted, his jaw clenching in fury but his eyes shining with pride at the accomplishments.

"Woah," Lizzie muttered under her breath, taking a step back at the idea of the grotesque violence. She flung her mind to another picture, not the one painted in blood Ethan had just described. How about Scott making friends with a unicorn?

"What about you emissary?" Scott asked, striking a look of hopelessness disbelieve upon Ethan. "They're all dead? Kali and Ennis' too?"

"All of them expect for Deucalion."

"You mean Morrel?" Stiles clarified, referring to the school's student councillor and the recently revealed comrade to the supernatural.

Before Ethan could reply, he let out a small yelp of pain, his large hand jumping to clutch his chest, almost like he'd been stabbed.

"What? What's wrong are you hurt?" Scott questioned, expressing his genuine hero like concern.

"Not me." Ethan shook his head, gritting his teeth, "My brother."

Lizzie gasped excitedly, "Twin telepathy? That's so awesome!"

Ignoring her, Ethan took off down the corridor in search of his wounded brother, the holy trinity hot on his trail.

They followed him all the way to the boys locker-rooms in which they ran into a savage attack.

Aiden had his arms raised above his head, a thick weight in his clutches, as he glared down at a cowering Cora Hale. On his chest was the deep laceration his twin had sensed and his eyes displayed the murderous detestation for the girl below him.

Scott and Ethan ran to restrain Aiden whilst Lizzie and Stiles dropped down to the floor to aid Cora.

With a metallic clatter, the weight smashed into the ground, the sound reverberating around the utterly pulverised room whilst Ethan thunderously scolded his brother.

Lizzie glanced down at Cora as she breathed in and out, catching her breath. The pixie reached forward and brushed the bronze strands of hair from Cora's face.

"Hey, guys, i think she's pretty hurt." Stiles announced sympathetically, gawping intently at the wheezing wolf.

Lizzie hummed in a agreement upon her own regard of the Alpha's wound pulsating across differing parts of her body.

"Can you move, Cory?" Lizzie wrapped her small fingers around Cora's bicep, already applying one of her nicknames to the girl she'd really only just met.

Cora nodded and allowed Lizzie to help her to her feet but, after she was stood to her full height, she shook Lizzie's grasp off her and held her head high as she made her way to the mirror in the corner of the room.

Stiles handed her a damp rag which she accepted reluctantly.

"You okay?" Scott inquired dumbly as he, Stiles, Lizzie and Lydia, approached Cora, forming a small protective circle around her.

"She doesn't look okay." Lydia commented, still torn up after witnessing the whole fight between her supposed situationship and the mysterious girl in front of her. Lizzie sensed her apprehension and ran her fingers up and down Lydia's arm, soothingly.

"I'll heal." Cora muttered defiantly.

The word seemed to alert the common sense section of Scott's brain as he clicked his fingers, "Lizzie."

Lizzie understood immediately and pushed herself forward with a nod to attempt to heal Cora.

"I said, i'll heal. Myself."

Said girl, however, was adamant she'd heal on her own and jolted away from the pixie, leaving Lizzie stood awkwardly in the middle of the group.

"Do you realise how suicidally crazy that was?" Stiles suddenly chastised, "What were you thinking going after them?"

"I did for Boyd." Cora snapped, the idea of her closest friend being so closed to death, so weakened, forced out her need to do something about this situation that was endangering all their lives, "None of you were doing anything."

"We're trying." Scott spoke gently, how brows knitted together empathetically, his voice quiet and depleted in strength.

"And you're failing," Cora sneered, scowling at each of the pack, "You're just a bunch of stupid teenagers, running around, thinking that you can stop people from getting killed. But all you do is show up late. All you really do is find the bodies."

With a final role of her eyes, Cora left, disappointed that she hadn't managed to cause much damage to a member of the Alpha pack and completely drained of hope.

"Well, she's definitely a Hale," Stiles sniffed into the silence ungracefully. "I'll make sure she gets home."

And with the parting promise, Lizzie felt a tug on her arm as she was dragged along with Stiles. What else was new?

✯☾✯

Between the two, Stiles and Lizzie, they'd managed to coax Cora into the jeep. It involved a lot of begging, on Stiles' part and even more bribing from Lizzie and her snack stash.

Eventually, Cora unwillingly climbed in the front seat, allowing Stiles and Lizzie to clamber in after her before she changed her mind.

Just as Stiles pulled out of the school's parking lot, his phone, propped up against the dashboard began to ring.

Lizzie leaned between the two front seats to press the accept button, "Hi, Ali!"

Allison greeted everyone pleasantly before quickly moving on to declare what she'd managed to figure out.

"Philosophers?" Stiles questioned, after Allison had finished explaining grimly.

"And guardians," Allison continued, her voice booming out the dodgy speakers in the car. "Which, after last night, has to mean something like law enforcement, right?"

Stiles gulped down the rather large, impending lump in his throat. He knew what was coming.

"Stiles, you have to tell you dad. Tell him whatever you need but, you have to get him to believe. Tell your dad. Warn him."

"Okay, okay, I know." Stiles cut Allison off briskly, his palms growing sweaty on the steering wheel.

"Thanks, Ali, i love you!" Lizzie shouted from the backseat, she was lying across it, using her backpack as a pillow. Big mistake, all the pens and pads in there did not do anything for comfort.

There was a pause after Lizzie's words of farewell, a silence sticky with guilt.

"Uh, yeah, love... love you too." Allison replied before hanging up, her words were shaken and empty like she was covering something up.

Lizzie's brow pinched together as she made a mental reminder to check up on Allison later on.

"What are you gonna do?" Cora interrupted the pixie's train of thought.

"I'm gonna tell him the truth," Stiles breathed out anxiously, the muscles in his face jittering, "And, i'm gonna need some help."

✯☾✯

Noah Stilinski was positively delighted when Lizzie Brown turned up on his door step, he greeted her with open arms and a broad smile.

Much less could be said when his son appeared alongside Cora Hale.

Despite the Sheriff's mixed emotions, all three teens and the adult made it to Stiles' bedroom, waiting for Stiles to build up his courage to inform his father of everything.

Watching in confusion and amusement, Lizzie and Cora were seated on Stiles' bed observing his continues pacing.

"Stiles?" Noah sighed, clearly unimpressed after watching his son mutter to himself endlessly for the past 10 mins.

Stiles came to a halt in front of his cross armed father, "Dad, i'm sorry, okay? I'm just— i'm trying to. I'm just trying to figure out how to start here."

Noah held us hand up, shaking his head, "Hey, I don't have this kind of time."

Stiles took his fifth deep breath. The walls of his room seemed very close around him.

He swallowed hard, "Um, for the past year, you've had all these cases that you couldn't figure out, right?"

Noah's expression was practically unreadable.

"I mean, all the murders involving Kate Argent, and Matt killing all the people who drowned him, and all these murders right now. It's like—it's like you've been playing a loosing game."

Concern flickered in Noah's eyes, "Stiles, the last thing i need right now is a job performance review from my own son."

"I know," Stiles acknowledged, the words were on the tip of his tongue. He just had to say them. Or play them.

The chessboard on his dresser caught his desperate eye, he darted across the room and picked it up, laying it out on his desk.

"Okay see but, that's— that's just it, Dad. The reason that you're losing the game is because you've never been able to see the whole board. I need to show you the whole board."

And so, Stiles Stilinski's explanation unfolded and it consisted of chess pieces, colourised sticky notes and Lizzie's occasional, "It's true, Mr Stilinski."

She shifted to the end of the bed, cross legged, her fingers tracing the patterns of the quilt. She knew how much this meant to Stiles, how long he'd been holding onto this, watching his Dad try everything and fail all whilst his own son knew the answers.

After half an hour, both men looked exhausted.

"Scott and Derek are werewolves?" Noah droned his question tiredly.

"Yes." Stiles breathed out.

"And Kate Argent was a werewolf?"

"Hunter," Stiles corrected, gesturing to his labelled pieces on the chess board, "That's— purple's hunter."

"Along with Allison and her father." Cora added, she'd been helpfully chiming at the right moments, which had been surprising helpful considering this was a girl who despised everyone.

Noah squinted his eyes at the utter absurdity, "Yeah, and my friend Deaton, the veterinarian is a kanima?"

Stiles' shoulders slumped, the frustration and disappointment crashing over him, "Well, no, no, no, no, no. He's a druid, okay? Well, we think."

"So, who's the kanima?"

"Jackson."

"No, Jackson's a wearwolf."

"Jackson was the kanima first, and then Peter and Derek killed him and he came back to life as a werewolf. Now, he's in London."

"Who's the da-rack?" Noah asked, rubbing his temples in an attempt to clear the fog.

"It's da-rock."

"We don't know yet," Cora said.

"We don't know yet." Stiles repeated.

"We don't know yet." Lizzie murmured after, just for fun.

"But he was killed by werewolves?" Noah closed his eyes, he felt his confusion building, a pressure mountain behind his eyes. It was taking so much energy trying to make sense of the mess in his head.

"Slashed up and left for dead." Stiles confirmed.

Cora was quick to jump in again, "We think."

"We think." Stiles echoed.

"We think!" Lizzie spoke out again, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Yeah," The Sheriff let out a deep sigh, leaning back in his seat, "Why was Jackson the kanima?"

"Because, sometimes the shape that you take, reflects the person you are." Stiles explained hopefully, praying to the Gods this would have to be the last time that he did.

"And, what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier-by-the-second father take?" Noah looked up at Stiles.

"Uh, that would be more of an expression like the one you're currently wearing." Stiles' voice trembled.

"Yeah." Noah's voice was quiet but resolute. He'd heard enough. He stood, his son copying.

"Wait, Dad, i can prove it, she's one of them."

Cora had a bony finger flung in her face.

"A werewolf."

"Stiles! That's enough." Noah cut him off, turning away and beginning to storm out of the room.

"Dad, can you please just hold on?"

Noah paused, his love for his son squeezing his patience.

"You ready?" Stiles asked Cora and she stood up, only to collapse in a heap on Stiles' bedroom floor.

"Holy shit!" Lizzie shrieked, diving off the bed to Cora. Clearly, this was not convincing Noah Stilinski at all.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
bonjour 👋
thank you so much for reading!!! i hope you enjoyed 💗💗💗
next chapter is gonna be a tad dramatic
we also get the start of the worst plot line ever... it's allison+isaac....

this was me writing the slightest bit this plot. EHISISJDHDHS
anyways THIS IS NOT EDITED I APLOGISE