Five

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  Jo managed to make it into the house that night without waking her parents, even with her father sleeping on the couch. She was relieved since it would've been hard to explain the ceiling debris in her hair and blood that stained her shirt. It was going to be hard enough to explain the detention; not to her mother, her mother would understand, wrong place wrong time. But it just gave her father an excuse to parent, and he loved to do that, once in a while at least.

  The brunette made her way to her bedroom, hiding her bloodied shirt at the bottom of her garbage can before making her way to the bathroom with a towel and a pair of pajamas. Jo pushed the bathroom door shut, wincing at the rusted hinges as she turned to examine herself in the mirror. She ran her hands over the cuts that scattered her shoulders and arms, mentally planning the outfits she would have to wear for a week or two until they healed.

  Raw skin brushed against her fingertips as she let out an involuntary gasp that turned into a silent sob. She pulled her bottoms down to her ankles, shakily stepping into the tub, and with one twist, water cascaded down her body.

"A detention?" Jo's mother wasted no time, knowing her father would be awake soon. She turned over the half cooked pancake before leaning into her daughter.

"Mr. Harris...just power hungry. That's all...there was a fight...just happened to be in the crossfire," Jo grabbed a piece of bacon from the bowl beside the stove.

"When is he leaving?" She added, her eyes flickering over to the living room doorway.

Her mother shrugged. "Have you talked to him yet?

"No..." Jo paused. "I have to get ready for school."

  Jo found her way to her mom's car after the final bell, stopping at the ding in her pocket.

Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. Four o'clock. - Scott

With furrowed brows, Jo pulled herself into her mom's car with a smile. "Hey, do you mind giving me a ride?"

Her mother raised an eyebrow, gripping the wheel and turning out of the school lot. "Where to?"

"Pet clinic."

Jo made her way into Scott's work, setting her book bag down at the door as it shut behind her. "Hey, what's u-"

Jo let out a breath, her words disappearing in the air. The brunette jutted her jaw, hesitantly holding her stance as she kept her eyes anywhere but Issac's. "What's he doing here?"

"I need him," Derek spoke simply, making her aware of his presence.

"So this is what we're doing now?" Jo watched Scott with weary eyes as he forced her into the corner of the room, as if the others couldn't listen in if they really wanted to. "Working together? What's next? Roasting marshmallows and singing Kumbaya?"

Jo continued calmly. "I'm obviously not—you obviously know a lot more about this than I do...but is this really the best idea?"

"We don't have any other choice," Scott gave her a reassuring nod, his eyes nervous.

"Why did you want me here?"

Scott glanced momentarily at Issac. "I don't trust him. And...he won't do anything with you here."

"We don't know that..."

"I do," Scott made his way back over to the other two werewolves who were becoming impatient.

"Where's the vet?" Derek pressed. "Is he going to help us or not?"

"That depends," Dr. Deaton, Scott's boss, and vet in question made his appearance at the entry way to the back of the clinic. "Your friend, Jackson. Are we planning to kill him or save him."

"Save him."

"Kill him."

Derek and Scott watched one another warningly before Scott repeated louder. "Save him...save him."

Dr. Deaton gestured for the group to follow him with a head nod.

"What's your boss gonna' do?" Jo leaned into Scott who nodded his head forward.

Deaton set a selection of glass jars in front of the group of four with corked lids and symbols to top them off.

"Watch what you touch," Derek snapped, prying Issac's grabby hand from the containers.

"So, what are you?" Issac smirked, leaning himself on the examination table. "Some kind of witch?"

"No," Deaton said simply. "I'm a veterinarian."

"Oh," Issac mouthed.

"Unfortunately, I don't see anything here that's going to be an effective defense against a paralytic toxin."

"We're open to suggestions."

"What about an effective offense," Issac offered.

"No, we already tried," Derek explained, making heads turn. "I nearly took its head off. And Argent emptied an entire clip into it. The thing just gets back up."

"Has it shown any weaknesses?"

"Well, one—it can't swim."

"Does that go for Jackson as well?" Deaton questioned.

Jo shook her head. "No, he's the captain of the swim team."

"Essentially you're trying to catch two people," Deaton began, turning for an item in a drawer and returning with a symbolized coin that he held in their faces. "A puppet...and a puppeteer."

He dropped the piece of metal on the table. "One killed the husband, but the other had to take care of the wife." Deaton explained, mentioning Jackson's victims from the night he escaped the prison van and the night of the library incident. "Do we know why?"

"I don't think Jackson could do it. His mother died pregnant too...And she was maybe murdered. I think he couldn't let the same thing happen to someone else."

"How'd you know it's not a part of the rules?" Issac queried. "The Kanima kills murders. If Jackson kills the wife, then the baby dies too."

"Does that mean your father was a murderer?" Scott pointed out.

"Wouldn't surprise me if he was," Isaac's head tilted slightly at thought. Jo watched him, catching his glance for a moment before pulling away.

"Hold on," Deaton held up a finger, adjusting his stance. "The book says they're bonded, right? What if the fear of water isn't coming from Jackson, but from the person controlling him. What if-" Deaton pulled the cork lid off one of the sandy substances, sprinkling it in a circle around the coin as he spoke. "Something that affects the Kanima also affects its master."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning we can catch them," Jo spoke with relief.

"Both of them."

"Thanks...for the ride," Jo tossed her bag in the backseat of Stiles' jeep, giving him a light chuckle as she watched the unamused look on his face, knowing Scott forced him into submission. She plopped herself in the leather seat, scooting her bag over so Stiles could push his seat back.

  Stiles slid into the seat beside Scott before pulling his door shut. "I'm gonna' start charging you guys. 'Uber Stiles'," he planted his hands in the air in front of him for effect. "The ride of your life."

Scott stifled a laugh as Jo spoke with a chuckle. "I don't think that came out the way you wanted it to."

With an exasperated huff, Stiles put the car in reverse and glanced behind him to pull out of Jo's driveway that now was only occupied by one other car, since her dad had left that morning, finally. "You know what I mean."

The two boys exchanged a few words about the underground rave before Scott propped a hand on Stiles' seat to turn his body to face Jo. "You get tickets yet?"

  Jo raised her head, her eyes previously locked on text messages from her father that had her attention.

Two weeks. Then you're coming home!

I can't wait for you to get here!

Don't forget anything. Don't worry about packing light.

"Huh? Sorry."

"Tickets...for the Rave."

"Oh. Nope. I have cash for...maybe two though," (Compliments of Mr. Brennan), "I heard someone say they're like seventy five this year. What about you? Any luck?"

Jo gathered her things as they pulled into an open parking space in front of the school.

Scott shook his head, wasting no time to hop out of the Jeep. "There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?"

"It's a secret show, there's only one way," Stiles pushed down his drivers seat, watching Jo somewhat patiently. He held out his hand and with a nod, Jo tossed her bag that he struggled to put over his shoulder but he played it cool so she ended up not noticing. "and it's a secret."

Stiles held out his free arm, offering her support to step down from the rusted Jeep. She watched him momentarily, deciding, he was finally accepting her help so she should accept his. Jo grabbed ahold of his small forearm before quickly stepping out of the car and grabbing her bag with a thankful smile.

"Hey!" The demanding voice caught all three of the teens' attention. "Any of you guys know why no one's getting suspended after what happened the other day at school?" Matt's, the other victim from the day at the library, words came out with a light chuckle.

"Just forget about it. Nobody got hurt," Stiles wrote him off annoyedly. Since Matt was unconscious the whole time, and the security cameras were wiped, only the people involved knew what actually happened, Jo wasn't sure what story Matt got though.

"I-I had a concussion," Matt furrowed his brows.

"Well nobody got seriously hurt," Stiles corrected with a matter of fact tone.

Matt shook his head. "I was in the ER for six hours."

"Hey," Stiles tilted his head, his voice soft and concerned. "Do you want to know the truth...Matt?"

"Your little bump on the head is about this high," Stiles bent down to hover his hand over the concrete as his voice raised. "On our list of problems right now!"

The group of teens were silent for a few seconds before Stiles shuffled back to his original stance and Scott took a step toward Matt to show a bit of concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah...I'm fine now," he replied with furrowed brows, glancing between Stiles and the two other teens who stood in front of him. "So you didn't get any tickets last night either?"

His question earned a weird look from Jo, since he hadn't been in their prior conversation and just took note on what he was overhearing. Though, no one really thought anything of it.

"Are they still selling?" Scott's voice was eager.

"No. But I managed to find two online," Matt nodded with a smirk. "You should keep trying. Sounds like everyone's gonna' be there."

He gave them a final grin and nodded in Jo's direction before turning on his heel and heading for the school.

"He's kind of..."

"I don't like him," Stiles' words overlapped her's.

Stiles turned to Jo. "Creepy. Annoying."

"Yeah," she dragged, the trio turning to walk down the sidewalk that lead to a side door closest to their first periods. "I was actually looking forward to Friday. But now...you know..."

Stiles grabbed Scott's arm in response to Jo's weariness. "Hey, are you sure about this?"

"Last time, whoever's controlling Jackson had to kill somebody because he didn't finish the job so what do you think he's gonna' do this time?"

Stiles raised his hands up and down in thought.

"He's right," Jo spoke, surprised she said the words, let alone agreed with them.

"Be there to make sure it happens," he answered Scott's question, sighing as he sauntered down the concrete, the other two following quickly after.

  Jo gripped her phone tightly, squeezing the device as she re-read messages, all sent from her father after he left this morning; none of them having a reply. How could she reply to 'Everything in your room is exactly how you left it!' and 'Everyone at the office is going to be so excited to see you!' when she wasn't planning on going back.

To anyone, Maxwell Brennan may just seem like an overeager father who just wants to spend time with his daughter. Jo wished that were the case, but it wasn't and never would be. There would always be a reason for everything he did, and it would always benefit him in some way. How, exactly, did his sixteen year old daughter coming 'home' to his mansion benefit him? She still wasn't sure. But it did; it was always about him.

"Hey, Jo-" the voice paused, the name almost coming out as her grade school nickname. "Jo."

  Pulled from her unpleasant thoughts, the brunette looked up from her phone with a half smile. Her eyes fell to her classmate's hands and her smile turned into a gaping mouth. "Stiles!" She whisper yelled. "You got tickets! Thanks! How much do I owe you?"

"Actually," he set one in her thankful hands before slipping the other one in his jacket pocket. "Issac got them...took them."

  Jo clenched her jaw before raising her head in a half nod. "No other way, huh?"

  Stiles shook his head. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Don't worry about it," Jo glanced nervously at her cell.

"You all right?" Stiles inquired, worried her mood had something to do with the rave.

"Oh, no. I mean, yeah. It's not that," Jo stumbled over her words, her phone flashing with a message but the screen turned black with a quick press of a button.

"It's my dad again," she began, sighing with a sort of comfort as Stiles leaned on the wall beside her. "I'm out of excuses...I have to go." She let out a dry laugh. "Unless."

  Stiles shook his head impatiently. "Unless?"

"Nothing. I'd need a plane ticket to pull it off. Or a car...and a license...and I'd need to rewatch Spy Kids a few times. So," Jo glanced at Stiles who watched her curiously. "It's insane."

"Your werewolf boyfriend just beat the crap out of a locker room full of sweaty teenagers for tickets to an underground rave...to set a trap for the co-captain of the lacrosse team...who also happens to be a werewolf...lizard...thing. We're way past insane."

  Jo giggled. "He's not my boyfriend. But point taken."

"Besides. You're looking at Beacon Hills' most promising junior detective and the fully licensed owner of the coolest car in town," Stiles bragged.

"Junior detective?" Jo raised an eyebrow.

"Well, that's what my twelfth birthday card from the station said," Stiles shuffled, his voice almost defending and hurt as he crossed his hands over his chest. "It's valid."

  Jo thought for a moment before grinning. "I have gas money thanks to Issac...and tomorrow's Saturday so we wouldn't have to skip school...what do you say? Road trip?"

  Little did they know, neither of the teens would be up for a road trip by the end of the night.