As it turns out, Scott and the others couldn't survive one night without me.

Fenris approved Scott's request to see Valack after a bit of convincing, but it was a conditional agreement. Valack wouldn't be allowed to leave his cell, which meant only Stiles and Lydia could speak to him as they weren't restricted by the mountain ash foundation that the lower levels of Eichen were built on.

That should have been enough of a reason for them to pull out of the plan, but it wasn't. They went through with it, and things only went downhill from there.

Eichen existed on a convergence of telluric currents and a ley line. That amount of electromagnetic energy is what allowed it to safeguard itself. Eichen's operators manipulated the frequency all around them, using it to keep certain supernatural creatures within their walls, as well as keep them out.

In theory, it was foolproof. Frequency was something that everything in our known universe, natural and supernatural, experienced and could be affected by. Though, when faced with a young kitsune who had no idea how to properly control her powers, it was nothing but a monumental failure.

Kira's unstable foxfire disrupted the building's defenses and caused any and all protections to fall. She unknowingly rolled out the welcome mat for the Dread Doctors to break into the facility and do what they do best - wreak havoc.

The others escaped or hid at the time of the breach, coming out of the ordeal unscathed. Mildly crisped, but still able to heal. It wasn't clear what happened to Valack, and the others had been kicked off the premises before they were able to find out. Judging by the condition the Doctors left their other victims in though, it probably wasn't pretty.

At least before he met his unknown fate, Valack gave us our first shot at leveling the playing field.

"Valack says their pseudoscientists. They extended their lives through unnatural means, using the supernatural to their advantage while they tamper with the balance of life," Stiles explains the information that had been given to him by Valack himself.

He and I were with Scott in the McCall kitchen, all of us seated around the island. They were bringing me up to speed on everything that they learned and what occurred in Eichen, and I tried to refrain from feeling too guilty over the fact that while my friends were enduring yet another traumatizing event, I was at Lily's diner, completely unaware of it all.

Hayden and I stayed there for the rest of the evening, not leaving until dark, talking for hours. It was a pleasant time, though part of me felt as if I was lying to her on some level.

Our conversations didn't revolve around anything remotely supernatural. It was as if a huge chunk of who I was didn't exist with Hayden, but for some reason, I preferred it. I could buy into the illusion that for once I was nothing more than a normal teenager, spending a night out with her friend, talking about the boy she liked.

I wished so badly to return to that reality, as much of a falsity as it was.

Valack revealed that the Doctor's main reason for coming to Beacon Hills, possibly a return trip, was because of the Nemeton's reactivation, which meant that we were at fault for the events of late.

We knew the sacrifices that Allison, Scott, and Stiles would reignite the tree's amplification of the ley line it grew on and turn this town into a literal beacon for the bizarre again, but I don't think any of us expected this.

These men were capable of manipulating the three most valuable things that shaped our universe - energy, frequency, and vibration.

Not only could they control electromagnetic forces and seemingly bend reality to their will, but they could also prolong their lives. Stiles said that Valack didn't give an exact estimate on their age, but the implication was that our mysterious doctors had been around for quite some time.

"He wrote the book so that anyone who came into contact with them could remember, because they can make us forget we ever saw them," Scott adds tensely.

That was the reason the Doctors broke into Eichen, using Kira as a trojan horse. They wanted revenge.

Valack used a pseudonym to publish his novel on them. He wanted to bring forward others who had been experimented on, using the book to trigger dormant memories. It was unclear whether or not his reasons for doing that were selfless or nefarious, but I had a good idea of where I'd put my money.

"So when we read the book-"

"The repressed memory surfaces, and if they did something to any of us, we'll know," Scott finishes for me, confirming what I hoped he wouldn't.

"That means we have eight more chimeras out there who have no idea what they are," I say grimly, referring to the other addition to our endless list of problems.

Hayden's sister, Valerie, happened to be a deputy. She had been patrolling the high school last night and discovered eight man-made holes on the campus field, an indicator that the Doctors had done some recruiting.

Our chimera total was now at eleven, two confirmed dead, and one up in the air.

We had proof that Tracy and Lucas had been manufactured, but Stilinski was convinced that Donovan was one too. After Tracy's attack on the station, he was able to slip out of the holding cells and was nowhere to be found. Doing that was no easy feat, so Stilinski's theory obviously held water.

"Which is why we need to read the book. We need answers," Scott states.

"And by answers, you mean we either experience a memory that was so traumatizing we suppressed it, or have it be revealed we were possibly experimented on like lab rats?" Stiles questions. It's rhetorical, but Scott answers anyway.

"Yeah. You guys in?"

The idea of having people poke and prod me without my consent was discomforting. I'd had my brain controlled more than enough times in my life, I didn't need any more of it.

It also didn't help that when Malia finally finished the book, she almost got run over when she ran into the middle of the road, being forced to relive the memory of the crash that killed her mother and sister. She would have died if Theo hadn't been there to pull her out of the way.

"Not like we have any other options," I say as my agreement.

Stiles nods along, and Scott takes that as his cue.

"I'll call everyone else in," he dismisses himself, heading into the living room where he'd left his phone, leaving Stiles and I alone.

I tap my fingers rhythmically on the top of the island's slab to keep busy while he nurses the mug of black coffee he has in front of him. We'd catch each other's eyes every once and a while and offer tight smiles, acting as though we were strangers passing on the street.

Neither of us speaks, not until I see Stiles rub his shoulder with a slight wince.

"Are you hurt?" I ask.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Jeep died on me again. I went to check the engine and the hood fell on it."

I let out a soft laugh, picturing Stiles bent over his engine with a wrench in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other while stuck on the side of the road, cursing the car he'd probably die for. He had full faith in himself each time the Jeep broke down, assured that as long as he had those two things he could take on the world. I'd grown to believe it too considering all that Jeep had seen, and the fact that it was still semi-operational.

"You and that car, Stilinski." I shake my head fondly.

The entire world could be up in flames but Stiles would never abandon his car. It was his longest and most significant relationship, next to Scott, of course.

Stiles smiles with me for a fraction of a second, then it slips into something more serious. He doesn't hold my eyes for long and instead his gaze slips to his coffee again as if lost in the darkness within his grasp.

"Jac, I'm sorry about the things I said before," he apologizes quietly.

I knew we'd get to this point eventually. I don't remain silent for long, wanting to assure Stiles that I wasn't trying to avoid him anymore. I wanted to fix this.

"You're not the only one who should be sorry, I am too. I was upset and got heated but that wasn't your fault."

I expected Stiles to seem relieved and make some dumb quip like usual, but he doesn't. He continues to sit there, almost lifeless.

"No, you were right. We're supposed to help everyone, but what if we can't always do that?" He murmurs, throwing me off. I wasn't quite sure of what he was trying to say.

"Like we're running out of time?"

"No. Like we're wasting our time," he clarifies. "What if we're saving people who don't want to be saved?"

"We might be, but that doesn't mean we don't give it our best shot, right?" I offer earnestly, attempting to be hopeful. Stiles doesn't take the bait.

"What if they don't deserve to be saved?"

Out of reflex, his words make me check where Scott is. He's still in the other room, his voice distant and busy. That makes me relax, as Stiles had just asked a question that his best friend never would, not even in a million years.

A question like that felt forbidden.

"Not all of them do," I answer truthfully.

Some people allow the darkest parts of their souls to exist freely. They're led by indulgence and cater to the satisfaction of cruelty. I used to be one of them. I wasn't someone who deserved to be saved. Maybe I still wasn't. 

The only difference between who I was now and who I had been then was my friends. They never gave up on me, not when it counted. That meant I owed it to someone else to give them the same chance I'd gotten. Whether it was a chimera or someone who nobody trusted, someone who just needed one person to believe in them, I had to save them the way my friends saved me.

"Then what are we doing, Jac? I know this is our responsibility, but I also keep thinking, what happens if we just stop? What if we're only making things worse?" Stiles rushes out. It seemed like he was on the verge of a panic attack, more so than usual.

His body was giving the telltale signs of deep anxiety with how rigid he was. The only motion that actually came from him was the continuous wringing of his hands that occurred when he pushed his mug to the side. I had begun to think he didn't even want to drink it earlier, and only made it as a way to keep himself busy.

I studied him momentarily, unsure of what had brought this on. His questions weren't filled with self-pity like he was worried we weren't doing things right, it was fear. For a moment, when I look into Stiles' eyes, he doesn't feel like himself. He's not annoyingly confident and sarcastic, he's a frightened boy desperate for reassurance.

"What if all the good we do doesn't outweigh the bad?" Stiles continues, his voice brittle.

"It doesn't. It can't," I reply instantly. "We're only human, Stiles. Our mistakes, the blood we get on our hands, it'll never be erased. But we keep going."

My words leave me urgently. If Stiles was scared it was my job to make him feel safe again.

"Even if we might fail?" he counters, almost whispering.

"Especially then."

"Why?"

"Cause it's what you taught me to do." 

Stiles didn't seem like anything special at first glance. He could be quite overbearing and pushy, and that turned most people away. Those who stuck around, those lucky few, got to learn that first impressions weren't always accurate.

He was smart, loyal, and braver than most, even though he really shouldn't be.

It didn't matter that he didn't have the same amount of muscle or strength as the things we fought. If there was a chance that he could do something to help, even if it meant putting his own life on the line, he did it without question.

His doubts now didn't betray that. They were only a sign that Stiles' selflessness had begun to catch up to him as the pressures of our world started to weigh on his shoulders. I could only hope he knew it wasn't a weight he had to carry himself.

Stiles' body relaxes after a beat, a short and breathy laugh escaping him.

"I never thought you actually listened to me." 

He cracks a small smile, his words having an edge of humor to them. It's indescribable how much relief that brings me.

"Some of it sticks," I joke, mirroring his minuscule smile, one only for him.

We sit in silence, comfortable and understanding. Stiles is the one to break it. He speaks with a smile still, but it shifts into one filled with remorse rather than contentment.

"I want to tell you something but I don't know how to do it," he confesses cryptically.

His eyes flutter, blinking back tears he doesn't want me to see fall. I don't press. Everyone was entitled to their secrets, and I'd be a hypocrite to claim otherwise.

"I want to tell you something, too," I admit.

Whether it was being with Liam, or the sinking feeling I got every time I looked at the cover of the Dread Doctors book, I wished to relieve myself of the burden of secrecy from those I cared for most. I didn't want to lie to them but we'd ventured too far at this point.

Telling them the truth now wouldn't make a difference, and might actually only make things worse. Stiles understood that.

"But you can't," he says knowingly. I nod to confirm.

"Maybe we'll figure it out eventually." 

"We will," I state. "We're a team, remember?"

Stiles' smile becomes genuine once more, and the foreign darkness in his eyes fades.

"Damn right," he says.

Our conversation came to an end then, not only because Stiles seemed to have found some solace in my words, but because Scott had reentered the kitchen. He had his phone in hand and a determined expression on his face.

"Okay, Lydia's picking up Kira and Malia, they'll be here soon," he informs us.

"What about Liam?" I automatically ask. If we were having a pack meeting, all of our pack should be here.

Scott's eyes darted between Stiles and I. It's an action that seems similar to him attempting to buy himself some time before answering.

"I don't think he should read the book, there's no telling how he'll react because of his IED."

He stares at me for longer than necessary, waiting for me to give him a reaction.

I kept my face neutral, pretending to see his point though I didn't. Not at all. Liam's disorder had nothing to do with any of this, and maybe Scott had a point, but when it came to Liam I never cared much for what was rational.

Stiles jumps in, trying his best to support me after I'd just done the same for him. "Scott, we have five copies, we shouldn't let any of them go to waste."

"That's why I'm bringing someone else in," Scott replies dubiously, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Who?" Stiles presses with narrow eyes. His reaction makes it fairly obvious that he already has a decent idea as to the answer to his own question.

"Theo."

"Excuse me?" Stiles questions him, borderline offended. I doubted he enjoyed the idea of the guy he was very open about distrusting coming to join us, especially with everything that was on the line.

"We need all the help we can get." Scott replies defensively, as if he had no other choice.

He walks away then, turning his back on us to go into the living room again. It's a successful way to avoid an argument, but that doesn't make the sudden heavy tension between us any less unsettling.

The others arrive in under an hour, the girls coming first and then Theo.

Saying things were awkward was an understatement. Stiles kept glaring at him as he talked to Scott, mumbling curses under his breath like a child jealous that their best friend was playing with another kid at recess. Maybe that wasn't too far off either, especially since Scott seemed to enjoy Theo's company without hesitation.

All things considered, I didn't know where I stood with the Raeken boy.

The only time I actually interacted with him was the night he helped us save Scott's life, something I'd yet to thank him for. I wanted to stand with Stiles but at the same time, he'd been wrong before, and Theo hadn't done anything to betray his own words of wanting to join our pack. It was all too confusing.

"My mom's book club usually has more wine," Lydia muses as we all circle up in the kitchen, standing around the island where five copies and the original book are laid out. The masked men on the covers stare at us menacingly, daring us to venture past the first page.

"Well, they also probably didn't read books that cause violent hallucinations," Stiles retorts.

"That's why Malia's here," Scott says.

The werecoyote gives us a wide smile at her mention, proud to be of use.

"So none of us go running into traffic?" Kira asks, referring to Malia's traffic hazard last night. It makes Malia's smile falter.

"Or worse," Scott counters realistically.

"Like what happened to Judy," Malia interjects. We all give her confused glances, not as familiar with the story as she was.

"Chapter Fourteen," she informs us, giving us something to look forward to.

"Can't wait," I murmur under my breath, staring down at the books on the counter.

We had no idea what they could trigger inside of us. Malia almost got herself killed but what if that wasn't the worst thing that could happen? What if when I read the book, I saw them?

And if they can't get it from him, maybe they can get it from you.

Deaton's words from the night at the clinic kept replaying in my head, the possibilities of my own forced experimentation leaving me fearful. That wasn't a reality I wanted to confront, nor was it something I wanted to confess to my friends and Liam.

For once, I actually found myself hoping to relive a traumatic moment from my past. That was the better alternative to facing the fact that maybe I would have been better off staying dead.

"Maybe I should have my mother read it. She might remember a girl with a tail leaping off the ceiling and attacking everyone," Lydia says, taking the original copy of the book for herself.

"Yeah, if it works," Stiles agrees.

She pauses, staring at the cover with sudden intensity. "It has to." She whispers.

We all give her worried looks, never favoring the times when Lydia darkened. Not only were the chances of her leading us to bodies increased because of it, but we also never wanted to see her in pain.

"What does that mean?" Scott asks her gently.

Lydia sighs. "I think I saw them during my surgery. When I look at the cover of the book, it's almost like..."

"A memory trying to surface," Theo finishes for her, making us all turn to him as he speaks with such surety.

It sends a chill down my spine as his words were a perfect explanation of how I felt. There was something that tugged at me, trying to draw me into a dark corner of my own mind. It was trying to get me to see something, but I didn't know what.

Lydia agrees too, her voice shaky and tired.

"Isn't that what Valack wanted when he wrote it?" Kira asks, earning a few nods from within the group.

"If they did something to me, I want to know what it is," Lydia states, walking away from the table, every step she took filled with purpose.

"No chance there's an audiobook version?" I remark, getting a pointed look from Scott in return.

"Okay then," I mumble before following Lydia's lead, taking a copy of my own.

The others do as we'd done, grabbing their own books before dispersing throughout Scott's house to settle in for what would surely be a long night.

Malia stays with Stiles in the kitchen, while Scott and Kira go for the couch in the living room. I follow them and intended to take the armchair next to Lydia, but stop when I collide with Theo who had wanted to do the same. We quickly pull apart, muttering apologies.

I can see his lips forming with an invitation for me to take the seat. That would leave him in the kitchen with Stiles as there was no more seating in the living room, which meant he'd be glowered at for the next couple of hours without fail. Wanting to cut him some slack, owing it to him after what he did for Malia last night, I step back.

"You take it, Raeken. It's all yours," I offer politely. I can't bring myself to say his first name, I just can't, and he doesn't seem to mind.

"Thanks, Jac," he grins before taking the seat.

I nod before turning away, going back into the kitchen to sit at the dining table.

Malia and Stiles were at the island, the two of them conversing lazily. I don't do anything for a while, unable to bring myself to actually start the book. It was a bit cowardly on my part, but it's not like anyone was paying attention to me anyway. I could have a moment to myself to be fearful.

I soon find myself eavesdropping on Malia and Stiles, continuing to buy time.

"What happened to your shoulder?" Malia asks her boyfriend.

I turn to the side discreetly, using my peripheral vision to see Stiles rubbing his shoulder yet again. He pulls away from it at her question.

"What are you talking about?" he replies. It's a nonchalant response but it feels like one far too dumb for him to say. He knew full well what Malia was talking about.

"I can smell the blood, what happened?"

Stiles takes a deep breath, an unnecessary breath, before responding.

"Jeep died on me again. I went to check the engine and the hood fell on it," he says, telling her what he'd told me earlier. Exactly what he told me earlier.

It throws me off, Malia too. I don't know why but she allows a weighted silence to exist between them, and I start to assume she's listening to his heartbeat. I find myself jealous of her ability, wishing for such skill because I was almost positive Stiles had not only lied to her, but to me as well.

Forcing his odd behavior out of my mind, I refocus on the book in my hands. Now wasn't a time to wonder what was going on with Stiles, he'd tell me when he was ready, now was time to get answers, whether I wanted them or not.

I flip the cover open and begin to read the introductory passage of the novel, cementing my decision. There was no going back now. I continue to read deeper, ignoring the voice in the back of my mind that begged me to stop.

~

||| A/N |||

fingers crossed we get a trailer or release date for the TW Movie today!!

EDIT - THE TEASER TRAILER DROPPED!! CHECK IT OUT YALL!! <3