Another chapter already? Woah, that's out of character

This season was so stressful

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After the moment of shock wore off, Lydia looked at the man. "You know Scott isn't your son?"

Elias looked at her, his frown deepening. "Of course I know that. Are brains getting smaller with skirts?"

Malia growled at the forwardness of the man, her eyes narrowing as she watched him walk to the other side of the table. I reached over to hold her wrist, getting her to focus, "It's alright."

Elias looked down to Scott after Lydia had pointed to him, "So you're that McCall kid."

Scott seemed taken aback for a slight moment, before turning to face the man. "You know me?"

"I know your dad," he clarified. "Couldn't hold his liquor and he certainly couldn't keep that wedding ring on his finger. Pretty young thing would walk by and poof, that ring just disappeared like magic."

My eyes went to Scott, noticing how the boy was focusing on staying calm. He was doing well, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was pissed off.

"Do you know all of us?" Lydia asked, not losing the opportunity we had to ask questions while the man had clarity.

The man pointed to the Banshee, "You're Natalie Martin's girl. Am I right? You look like her. She was pretty once, too. She also liked to talk like she was the smartest person in the room."

"Stop talking," Malia warned, her eyes beginning to glow.

I held tighter onto Malia's wrist, saying her name in warning.
Elias looked down at me, my voice drawing his attention. "And you must be Carol and Joseph's youngest. Although, neither of them was exactly loyal to each other, either."

Malia's claws came out again, a growl escaping her. Scott and I went to stop her when someone from behind us shouted "Enough."

We all turned to see the Sheriff and an orderly standing behind us. My eyes fell, the shame of going behind the Sheriff's back finally hitting.

Scott frowned, "Sheriff, we. . ."

"I explicitly told you not to come here," the man reminded us, clearly angry. "And who attacked a staff member?"

The orderly pointed to Malia, "That's her."

The werecoyote growled again, glaring across at the orderly. He was lucky there were witnesses, or I wasn't sure what Malia would have done now that she was struggling with control.

"What the hell were you thinking?" The Sheriff asked.

"Noah. We were just having a nice conversation," Elias told his son.

"The four of you. Out. Now."

We all did as we were told, heading out the door quickly. We didn't stop until we were outside the building, slowing down when we reached Lydia's car.

"We were finally getting somewhere," I said, my hand dragging through my hair roughly. "He knew who we were."

Scott held his hands up, taking a careful step towards me. "Ri, we'll figure it out."

"How?" I asked, my voice rising slightly. "He was our only lead."

"I know," he nodded. "But getting angry isn't going to help, okay?"

Noticing how he was speaking to me and his body language, I looked around to see trees in the near vicinity beginning to sway as leaves were picked up off the ground. Malia wasn't the only one letting her abilities getting the best of her.

"Sorry," I sighed, releasing my grip on the air around us.

"You four," the Sheriff said as he walked up to us.

"Sheriff-"

"No. All of you, go to the station. I'll be there soon."

♧♤♢♡

"We know this looks bad," Scott admitted to Lydia's mum, who had been waiting for us at the station when we had arrived.

The woman's eyes widened, hands raised, "It doesn't look bad, Scott. It is bad. You broke into a nursing home, you harassed a dementia patient, and you beat up a nurse."

"I wouldn't say harassed," I tried to explain. "And, I mean, is a bump on the head really beating him up?"

"Is that really how you want to do this, Riley?" She asked me. When I shook my head, she continued, "This could affect the rest of your lives. Especially you, Malia. They're talking felony assault."

"I didn't beat him up," Malia defended. "I could have. But I chose not to."

I cringed at her word choice, lips pursed. This wasn't going well at all. "To be fair, that is an improvement," I informed Ms Martin.

The door to the Sheriff's office opened, the man addressing the matter. "By some miracle, the nurse decided to drop the charges. They're free to go."

Ms Martin's hands reached her hips as she looked at us all, eyes falling on Lydia. "Just because you're not going to jail, doesn't mean you're not grounded for eternity."

Ms Martin led her daughter out and Scott and Malia began to follow. I, on the other hand, hung back. When Scott noticed, he looked over his shoulder at me. "What are you doing?"

"I just want to ask the Sheriff something."

Scott was hesitant but nodded either way. "Alright. I'll wait out the front to give you a ride home."

"Thanks, Scottie," I smiled at him.

After they'd all left, I knocked on the door the Sheriff had gone through to make sure I wasn't interrupting anything. When I heard him say come in, I opened the door and entered the room.

I was about to start speaking when I noticed the Sheriff's wife sitting in the corner. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were alone."

"It's fine, Riley. You know Claudia knows everything," he reminded me, leaning against his desk.

"Right," I said slowly. "Look, I'm really sorry that we went to see your dad after you said no, but you know we wouldn't do it if we didn't have to."

"And why would you have to?" Claudia asked.

I stumbled for words for a second, not really expecting the woman to take part.
"Because someone is missing, and our only clue is the word Stiles, which just so happens to be your dad's nickname," I said, facing the Sheriff.

The man sighed, "I understand, but you need to stay away from him. He is a cynical old man who helps no one."

"Sheriff-"

"Riley," Claudia interrupted, standing up from his seat. "I don't know how many different ways you need to be told 'no'."

I felt myself take half a step back as I looked at the woman. Why was she not letting me have a conversation with the man?
"Please," I said to the Sheriff, desperate to get through to the man. "Please, Sheriff."

The Sheriff looked to his wife, before turning back to me. "I'm sorry, but no. You need to stay away from him. I don't want to have to tell you again."

My eyes shifted between them, my fingers curling and uncurling to keep myself calm. "Fine," I mumbled, leaving the office.

Scott was waiting out the front for me, just like he said he would, leaning against his bike. "So, how'd it go."

My jaw was clenched as I looked up at him, frustration rolling off of me in droves.

"Wow, that well?" Scott asked sarcastically.

"Can you just take me home? Please?" I asked quietly.

The Alpha nodded, patting his hand on the seat at the back of his bike. He was about to get on his bike when he got a text. He quickly read it, a sigh escaping him.

"What's wrong?"

Scott's eyes met mine as he put his phone away, "It's Isaac. He just got back from wherever and my house is trashed from Liam's party. I need to get it clean before my mum gets home."

"Can I help?" I asked quickly.

"You want to help me clean my house?" Scott laughed.

I nodded, climbing onto his bike. "Yeah, I could use the distraction."

"Alright," he nodded. "Let's go then."

♧♤♢♡

When we arrived at the McCall house Liam was standing in the living room, which looked like a tornado had passed through. Pointing to the stairs, I stepped away from the two, "I might go and see if Isaac is still here."

Scott nodded as he leaned down to pick up the pieces of a broken vase. Liam was shifting on his feet nervously, watching his Alpha.

I went upstairs and knocked on the door to Isaac's room. There was a moment of silence before I could finally hear footsteps. "What do you want, Riley?" Isaac questioned as soon as he opened the door, letting it swing open as he retreated back into the room.

I couldn't tell from his voice whether he was still pissed, or just exhausted.

"Where have you been?" I asked softly, walking into his room cautiously.

He shrugged as he began to clean up the mess from the party. Apparently, Liam hadn't stopped his lacrosse friends from having free roam of the bedrooms.

I began to walk around the room, collecting the red cups the teenagers had been drinking from. Isaac watched as I began to clean, shoving rubbish into the black bag he was holding in his hand.
"I needed some time alone to think."

Nodding, I walked over and put the cups I had stacked into the bag. "And?"

"And I still hate this," he answered dropping the bag to the ground.

"Isaac-"

"But I understand."

"Look, I know you. . . wait. . . what?" I stumbled, shocked by the turn he had taken.

Isaac sighed as he lowered the bag to the ground and sat on his bed. "Do you know how badly I want to be able to blame you for this? How much easier it would make this?"

I took a seat beside him, staring at the wall. "It is my fault," I muttered.

"Thanks for trying, but it's not," Isaac countered. "You didn't choose to have your memories of this guy taken; none of us did. I just. . . I feel like a horrible person."

"Why?" I asked, turning to him.

He smiled tightened as he looked at me, "Because part of me wished that we hadn't remembered. That we could go back to that day where we were sitting on my bed talking about when we realised we loved each other."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Isaac," I assured him softly.

The boy reached over, covering my hands with one of his own. "I know. Like I said, that's what makes this even more difficult. I love you, Riley."

"I love you, too," I said quietly, resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"I know," he replied quietly.

We sat like this for a while, hand in hand and resting on each other for support. I understood why he wanted to blame me. It was easier to hate someone than to give them up willingly.

Hearing voices a few doors down, I took a moment to listen. When I realised who was speaking, I stood up from Isaac's bed. "The Sheriff is here," I told the boy, sounding as confused as I felt.

The two of us left Isaac's room and went down the hall to Scott's. I rapped my knuckles on the surface lightly, waiting to hear from Scott.

When the Alpha responded, I opened the door and Isaac and I walked in. Scott was standing by his window, while the Sheriff was sitting on the small table at the end of the bed.

Scott's room was just as messy as Isaac's, the lacrosse team having no respect for their spaces.

"Hi, Riley," the man said with a sad smile. "I'm sorry about the Station.

"It's fine, Sheriff. I understand," I nodded. "What are you doing here?"

He gestured to the Alpha, "I was just saying to Scott, something you guys said has just been bugging me all day. Somethin' about memories."

"What do you mean?" Scot asked.

"Have you ever had a dream that's, that's so real that you thought it was a memory?"

Isaac and I found ourselves looking at each other as I nodded, "Yeah, I know that feeling."

The Sheriff closed his hands together as he spoke, "Okay, in this dream, I'm lying in bed with Claudia. It's a couple of weeks before we graduate from college and we're talking about the future and kids and what we'll call them. And I tell her that if we have a son, I want to name him after her father.

"And she laughs at me and she says, 'Why would you want to saddle some poor kid with a name like that?' And I told her, 'Because he's a great father, kind of father I wish I had, the kind I. . . I hoped to be.'

"At that point in the dream, she smiles, kisses me, and says, 'Okay, we'll name him that, but it won't matter. He'll just be called Stiles anyway.'"

My mouth fell agape and I felt like my heart almost stopped.

Stiles Stilinski.

Could that be who we were missing? It would make sense. Between Lydia writing Stiles, the memory of Scott and I in the woods and why the Sheriff expected to find us there, how we would've found out about something like a dead body.

It was him. It had to be.

Stiles Stilinski.

♧♤♢♡

That night had been another restless one of sitting in my bed and staring at the wall of photos. I knew for certain that someone was missing from them now, and I had a name. Stiles.

But who was he? What did he look like? And where did the Ghost Riders take him?

"You know what time it is, don't you?" A voice asked from my bedroom door.

Glancing over, I saw Isaac leaning against the doorframe. Charlotte or Iris must have let him in. "Yeah. I couldn't sleep."

"Because of what the Sheriff said earlier."

I nodded, letting my gaze move back over to my wall. "He was in all of them," I mumbled.

Isaac moved further into the room to look at what I was referring to. His expression sunk noticeably when he realised what it was. It was Stiles.

Well, not exactly. But the gaping hole in every photo was evidence enough. Exhaling sharply, he came over and sat beside me, leaning against my headboard to stare at the wall also. "We're going to find him."

"How? We have no idea where the Ghost Riders would have taken him. And even if we did, we don't know what he looks like. We know nothing about him except his name. And there's still a chance that that's just wishful thinking."

Isaac nodded slowly, thinking over what I'd said and allowing me a moment to take a breath.
"I get why you're stressed, but you'll find the answer. You and Scott always manage to, somehow. And you've already got somewhere to start."

Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I gave him a confused look.

"The wall," Isaac said simply, pointing past me. "Sure, they erased him, but he was there. Out of all of these photos, surely there is at least one clue in there. One string you can pull at that might just make it all unravel."

He was right. There were so many photos, at least one of them had to have a clue somewhere.
"Thank you," I told him sincerely. "Look, I know this is a shit situation. You really don't have to help-"

"I want to," he interrupted. "Yes, this is hard, but I'll be okay. Just because we aren't together, don't think that I'm just going to walk away from you or the Pack. You guys are my family."

I had to admit, I was impressed with how maturely he was dealing with this. I remembered our first break up and how hard it was on the both of us. This time around, it felt somewhat easier, in a way.

"Thank you," I said again, a soft smile on my face.

Nodding, he got up from the bed. "You should really get some sleep. You're not going to be able to think if you're exhausted."

I shifted to get under my covers, calling his name before he had the chance to leave. "Could you stay? With the nightmares I just. . . I don't want to be alone."

He nodded, walking back over, taking his shoes off and climbing in beside me. "You don't think Charlotte will kill me for staying the night?"

"I can't believe you're afraid of her. You literally have sharp teeth and claws," I laughed as I moved over to make room for him.

"Have you met your sister?" He countered.

"Fair point," I laughed with a sigh as I switched off my lamp. In the dark and silence, I felt my mind begin to wonder, and I spoke before I could stop myself. "Do you really think we'll find him?" I whispered.

There was more silence and for a moment I thought that maybe Isaac had fallen asleep. Then I felt his body shift beside me, before I heard his voice in the dark. "I'm going to make sure you see him again. I promise."

♧♤♢♡

The next morning, we got up and headed straight back over to Scott's house. Some of the pack was planning to meet there to go over Scott's house once more and examine it, looking for clues on the Ghost Riders.

While I did want to spend the day combing through those photos like Isaac had suggested, finding a clue about the Ghost Riders felt just as important.

Besides, we needed to do something soon because according to Scott, Liam said that at the party corey had managed to make one of the Ghost Riders visible. While this seemed like a good thing, considering that Liam could see what he was fighting, it wasn't.

Everyone at the party had seen the Ghost Rider also, and if the story of Stiles was anything to go by, that meant that they were all going to be taken.

Scott and Isaac had done a good job in cleaning the house - it looked practically spotless. There were some things missing here and there because teenagers had broken them.

The Ghost Riders hadn't left a lot behind but what they did leave, was hard to miss. Right on the ceiling was large black marking. It looked like tree roots or electricity stemming from a centre, burned into the ceiling.

"That's how he got in?" Corey asked, referring to the Ghost Rider who had been there last night.

"What is it?" Liam asked.

"It's a point of impact from a lightning strike," Mason answered. "Usually you'd find charred spots like that on the ground after a violent thunderstorm."

Scott's eyes widened somewhat as he put it together. "That's how the Ghost Rider got in. He rode the lightning."

Isaac scoffed lightly from beside me, "I swear, our lives get more ridiculous by the year."

"To put it lightly," I sighed, before focusing back on the topic. "So, if the Ghost Riders can ride the lightning past the mountain ash, how are we supposed to protect ourselves? How are we supposed to protect all of those kids from the party?"

"It's my fault they're marked," Corey said, a look on his face like a wounded dog.

"We'll find a way to protect them," Scott assured him. "All of them."