"What do you mean by 'I can't help'? You're gonna need all the goddamn help you can get!"

          Scott sighed on the other end of the phone, only wanting to protect his friend. "Joan, it's going to be a bloodbath here. It's not safe for you here."

           "Are you saying that 'cause I'm a girl or because I'm human?" Joan asked in frustration, her anger boiling as she paced around in Stiles' room. Malia and Stiles watched the Arcs girl in concern as she continued to pace and run her fingers through her hair.

            "No– no! I'm not– that's not what I meant..."

           Joan scoffed, "Sure sounded like it, Scott. I just want to help. I may not have claws or a fast metabolism, but I know how to protect people..."

           Scott stayed silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Knowing Joan she'd be mad for awhile, but she'd forgive him and understand why he said no, but on the other hand they did need more help. "Give it here, Scott," a voice commanded.

           "Joan, I know that you want to help," Argent spoke softly, understanding what Joan was feeling since that was exactly how Allison once felt. "But, you're not ready, especially for something like this. We're not just facing a couple assassins or one lone guy who has just picked up a gun. We're facing a group of highly trained people that were once hunters. There are always going to be people that need protecting, Joan. 

          "This isn't your fight, no matter how much you want it to be. Think about her. She wouldn't want you to come here and risk your life when you could be helping stop this from even happening. She would have wanted you be alive and prepared than you coming here and potentially getting killed. Allison would have wanted you to help Malia and Stiles stop the Dead Pool, and you know that."

          Joan stood silently, taking in Argent's words. She sighed softly before nodding, knowing that he couldn't see her. "Fine, I'll stay. But if something happens one of you has to call Malia or myself, okay?"

            Argent chuckled, "Of course. Now go help Stiles and Malia. We'll handle things here."

           "Yeah, yeah," Joan replied mockingly before ending the call. She turned around towards Stiles and Malia, the two staring at her patiently. "Okay, fine! You were right, blah, blah. Let's go to the Lake House."

          The two laughed, grins spread across their faces as they made their way out of Stiles' room. Joan slowly followed behind, pushing her reluctance aside. Stiles slowed down his steps and turned towards Joan, sending the girl a caring smile.

          "There's always gonna be a next time," Stiles explained, grabbing Joan's hand and interlocking their fingers. "Plus, I probably wouldn't have let you go anyway."

          Joan laughed, shaking her head, "Then I would have flipped you over my shoulder and gone anyway. You're not as badass as you make yourself seem, Stilinski. But, I will admit that you'd look pretty hot trying."

           Stiles gapped at Joan, watching as she jogged up to Malia and fell in step with her. "I could so stop her if I wanted to," Stiles muttered to himself. "I'd show her just how hot I'd be!"

           "What's that, Stiles?"

          "Nothing!"

»

           The trio stared at the record player expectantly, boredom filling the minds with every passing second. The record player continued to buzz as both Stiles and Joan's patient slowly dwindled. "What are we doing? This room wasn't even made for us," Stiles explained in exasperation. He stood up abruptly and began to wave his hands around spastically. "We need someone like Lydia or Meredith, and we're just sitting here listening to a stupid record player play a record that doesn't play anything!" Joan nodded, shutting of the record player and beginning to follow Stiles out of the room. "Come on. There's plenty of other things we can be totally useless doing."

           "Joan?" Malia asked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she still continued to hear the light buzz that was once from the record player.

           Joan turned her head, pulling Stiles back into the soundproof room, "Yes?"

           "I can still hear it..."

           "But it's not on," Joan mutter in confusion.

           "Then it's something else," Malia insisted. "Something spinning." She stood up and looked at the two humans in confusion. The trio grabbed the speakers and pedestal that held the record player and moved them away from the wall. 

           "Huh..." Stiles reached out towards the wall and grabbed a thick, black wire that seemed to be connect something behind the wall to the speakers. He looked over his shoulder at Joan and Malia before tugging on the wire to see if it would move.

            The more he pulled on the wire, the more it see break through the wall which made it easier for them to see what was behind it. Once a decent line was formed they began to chip away the wall, finding it surprisingly easy to do. Their eyes widened at the sigh before them, seeing three old machines blinking and spinning.

            "What is this?" Malia asked, her head tilted to the side as she looked at it carefully.

            "I think it's the Dead Pool," Joan replied, her eyes wide in surprise. 

            Malia looked over at the two before pulling back her fist, about to slam it into one of the machines. "You can't just smash it to pieces. Okay?" Stiles explained, grabbing Malia's wrist. "If this thing's being used to disseminate the list, then it's probably gonna keep going until everyone's dead."

            "Then what do we do?"

            Joan shrugged, looking at the machine carefully, "We'll probably need a prompt or a command to stop it? Something like that, right?"

            "No, no, no!" Stiles quickly said, reaching his hand out in front of Malia as she stepped towards the machines as though she was about to punch it once again.

            The were-coyote raised an eyebrow at Stiles, pointing up towards the machine, "What about a key?"

»

           "You see it?" Stiles asked frantically, pointing his phone at the machines to show them to Lydia. "There's got to be a way to turn it off, right?"

          The strawberry blonde rolled her eyes, shaking her head, "I don't know. I don't know anything about computers from the 1970s."

           "Neither do we!" Malia explained in frustration.

           "Not even Joan?"

           Joan shook her head, placing her chin on Stiles' shoulder, "My dad may be a history buff, but that doesn't mean he knows anything about computers. Plus, if I did know why would we be calling you?"

          Lydia sighed, trying to figure out a solution as fast as possible, "Okay, where's the monitor?"

           "Lydia, there is no monitor," Stiles informed irritably, swinging his phone around the room. "There are buttons, knobs, spindles, no monitor."

           "Wait," Lydia quickly explained, her pacing seizing, "turn the phone back. Point it at the carpet."

           "The what?"

           "The floor! Just show me the floor," Lydia commanded. Stiles did as he was told, pointing his camera at the floor. "Where's the stain? There should be red blotches, a wine stain."

           "There's nothing," Joan mumbled, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the unstained floor.

           Lydia shook her head, confusion washing over her, "That doesn't make sense. I gave the five-hundred dollars I was supposed to use to hire cleaners to Brunski."

           Stiles sighed in annoyance, wondering why in the world a wine stain was so important, "Lydia, what the hell does wine have to do with anything?"

           "Red wine doesn't disappear," Joan explained. "It's incredibly hard to remove, especially from a white carpet. I know from experience..."

            "Unless it wasn't wine," Lydia explained, the wheels in her head turning.

           "What? What do you mean?"

            "The ashes weren't ashes. The study isn't a study. The record player isn't a record player. So... So maybe the wine wasn't wine!" Lydia explained, everything seeming to piece itself together. "Stiles, Joan, you have to find the wine. Find the bottle. There could be something important about it."

           The duo nodded, their minds racing with curiosity and adrenaline. "What kind? What's it called?" Stiles quickly asked.

           "It's a 1982 Cotes du Rhone," Lydia answered. Joan nodded, quickly rushing out of the room and running down to the wine cellar. She looked around at all the bottles, seeing dates that ranged from 1976 to 1998.

            "No, no. Not you! You're from 1982, but you're not 'Cotes du Rhone'," Joan mumbled to herself, looking at the many bottled of wine. "Finally!" Without hesitation, she grabbed the bottle and sprinted back up the stairs.

           Once back inside the study, she showed the two the bottle while shaking it lightly. "I think something's inside it. Do any of you have a bottle opener or–"

            Without hesitation, Malia grabbed the bottle and slammed it into the ground, causing the bottle to break and the remaining ounce of 'wine' to splatter across the white carpet. Stiles bent down and carefully looked through the broken glass and supposed wine, finding what seemed to be a key. The trio inspected it carefully, surprise and wonder seen in their eyes.

             Stiles slowly walked towards the machines and place the key inside the key hole. He looked over at Joan reassuringly, seeing her nod in approval and smile at him encouragingly. Stiles nodded before turning the key. He stepped back, staring at the machine expectantly along side the two other girls. 

            Their eyes watched as the dials continued to spin inside the machine, almost as if the key hadn't been turned. Joan crossed her fingers, hoping that they had stopped the Dead Pool in time. She couldn't handle loosing another person. 

             A relieved sigh left Joan's lips when she saw that the dials beginning to slow down.

            "Yes!" Malia screamed, grabbing Stiles and Joan and pulling them into a hug. "We did it!"

           Joan laughed, holding Stiles and Malia close to her. They'd done it, they'd actually stopped the Dead Pool. Their worry about being killed in between classes eased away. They were all safe... For now.

»

Only two more episodes left!!!

I really want to have Joan done before 2017 so next year I can focus on the sequel. I also want to complete this book, because it'll be the first book I've completed on Wattpad. If I do so in 2016, I'll feel more accomplished 'cause I set this goal for myself about two weeks ago!!

Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Don't forget to comment and vote!

– Logan