—Ella Speaks
TW: mention of suicide.

Chapter Forty-One

The bus finally pulls into the view of Glen Capri. That was the motel that we were staying in tonight and students pile off the bus as we each take our bags, Coach was talking to us as we gathered around. The five of us were all exhausted as we stood with each other.

"I've seen worse," Scott says.

"Where have you seen worse?" Stiles asked, looking at the motel. A whistle blows and Coach holds up a handful of room keys in front of the gathering students.

"Listen up. The Meet's been pushed to tomorrow morning. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgment in accepting a group of degenerates like yourselves. You'll be pairing up. Choose wisely." Coach tells us. Allison, Lydia, and I stuck together as teenagers spread out. "And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you deviants. Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves."

Keys taken, the team heads for their rooms while the bus moves on to the park. But one person remains, still gazing up at the motel with concern. I looked at Lydia as Allison and I begin to step forward. "Lydia?" I asked her.

"I don't like this place," Lydia tells us.

"I don't think the people who own this place like this place. It's just for a night." Allison tells her.

"A lot can happen in a night." Lydia pointed out. Reluctantly, she follows Allison and I to the motel.

⇉

I opened the door to our bedroom and I grimaced. "Ew," I muttered. I placed my duffle bag on the bed. "Dibs," I tell them, jumping on the bed close to the wall.

Allison and Lydia chuckle. I collapsed on the bed. "Paige." A whispering voice spoke to me and I snap my eyes open.

"Anyone else heard that?" I asked curiously, looking at the girls as they made their way further into the room.

"Hear what?" Allison asked.

"Um... Nothing." I brushed it off as hopefully nothing. "Hey, um, I'm going to grab a water. Does anyone else want anything?"

The girls shook their heads as I made my way out of the door and onto the veranda, the night sky with twinkling stars above me. I looked up. "Paige!" The voice was a little louder and I jumped. It was almost in demand.

Where is that voice coming from?

I didn't dare respond and ignored it, walking down the stairs. "Stop." I heard another voice—the same voice. This time, I listened to it. It sent chills down my spine. I recognised the voice. I didn't know who. "Come." It beacons me, and I felt a sudden urge to follow.

I made my way back slowly up the stairs and walked around the veranda until I was met by a stairwell that continued up the stairs. Without hesitation, I walked up slowly and it lead me to the rooftop, looking out to the woods.

I pause, looking around and wondering what I was meant to be looking for.

I turned my eyes and saw a girl standing there on the edge of the roof. "Hey—Stop!" I called out to her and she turned around slowly. I was beginning to move towards her but stopped in my tracks when I saw myself standing there.

Her face was pale, her hair was stuck to her face, and she looked miserable. I looked miserable. Chills were sent down my body.

"We shouldn't be here." The girl kept telling me.

"Who—Who are you?" I shakily let out, feeling shivers down my spine.

"You know who I am." The girl said, tears streaming down her face. "We shouldn't be here. Come, come..." I stepped closer to her, and before I knew it, I was standing right beside her. One step off—I could be falling to my death. "We shouldn't be here." She repeats, looking down at the ground.

"What—What do you mean?" I asked her, feeling my heart hammering. I felt drawn to her. I felt like I had to talk to her—I had to be her.

"We don't deserve this; we'll be happier." She continued. I felt my eyes stinging with tears as she was. It felt like I was copying her, and I didn't know how to make it stop.

"Can we—Can we talk about this?" I asked her, my throat going horse. "Where will we be happier?"

"Not here." She shakes her head. "And we know it to. I promise. This is the only way not to deal with any of this. We need to jump soon."

"J—Jump?" I stammer. I looked down at the ground like it was calling my name.

"No one will find us." She assures me. "No one will know." She touches my shoulder, but it feels like a ghost going through me. "We mustn't waste any more time. They're coming."

"Who's coming?" I whispered, feeling the breeze flow through my hair.

"You know." She spoke. "I'm going now, are you coming with me? Coming with us?" She wasn't making any sense. "It's time. It won't be painful, I promise." My feet shuffled closer to the edge, considering it. She was making a very clear point. "Hold my hand; it will be easier. We jump together. We'll be with Derek."

I snap my head to her at the mention of her name. "Derek?" I asked, and she nodded.

"We'll be with our grandparents." She continued. "Our cousins—Sam."

"Sam?" I mumble. "What happened to Sam?" She gives me a sorry smile. Sam's dead? Why didn't Lucy tell me? My heart clenches. I've lost too many people.

"Come on." She whispers convincingly. It was enticing. She grabs my hand, but the moment she does that, she fades away, leaving me in my own head.

"Come on," I whispered to myself, repeating her words. I closed my eyes, feeling the wind blow around me. This wouldn't be the first time I've attempted suicide. I was 14 and my sister found me with a razor blade to my wrists.

I never ended up cutting myself. She looked horrified and comforted me in our bathroom. It was a horrible time in my life, and I thought cutting myself so deeply would release all the pain I was feeling—and right now, I had no one to save me. I hadn't thought about suicide in years, but tonight, it felt different. Like I shouldn't be here right now.

I felt tears streaming down my face. I was suddenly pulled back by a voice; my wrist was being dragged. I was in someone's arms, and I opened my eyes, my breathing going ragged as I was in Stiles' hold, his own eyes watery.

"P...Paige." He breathes out, and I sob, burying my head in his chest. "Thank God I found you." He wrapped his arms around me tightly, afraid to let me go.

"I'm... I'm sorry." I choked out, balling. I felt pain and sadness. I felt like I disappointed him.

"It's okay; it's not your fault." He tried to reassure me. I hugged him tighter, afraid to let him go.

"Please... Don't let me go." I whispered to him, hugging him. I could feel his whole body shaking.

"I won't, I promise," Stiles tells me. I felt myself calming down, and I glanced to the edge again, horrified that the girl wasn't there anymore. And I realised who that was—me, at 14 years old.

"Oh, my God." I breathed out at the horrifying realisation. "I didn't—I wasn't—"

"It wasn't you, Paigey," Stiles tells me gently. "Something is going on with all the werewolves. They've been trying to kill themselves. Ethan, Isaac, Boyd."

I nodded, listening and looked at him with my tears drying up. "I'm sorry." Was all I could muster out. He smiled at me kindly, kissing my forehead. I decided to do one better and pecked his lips, sighing. Then, I pulled back, frowning. "What about Scott?"

"Shit... Allison." He muttered. "I was meant to find you, and Allison was meant to find Scott. Wait—I have something for you." He pulled out a flare. "This makes you snap out of it; it's okay." I nodded and let him pull it, the smoke and flames coming up, making me completely snap out of it. I felt like the old me.

"Oh, my God." I breathed out. He chucked the flare aside and grabbed my hand. "Let's go find Scott."

Stiles and I rushed out of the rooftop and walked around the veranda. We walked down the stairs, meeting up with Allison.

"Oh, God! Thank God you're okay." Allison rushed and hugged me tightly. I smiled, wrapping my arms around her shirt.

"Sorry for the scare," I tell her quietly as Lydia joins in the quick hug.

"It's okay; it's not your fault," Allison assures me. Her eyes then dart to Stiles worriedly. "I can't find Scott."

"It's happening to him, too, isn't it?" Stiles asked.

"It has to be," Lydia spoke. She turned to Stiles. "Didn't you say there was another flare in the bus?"

"Yeah, I'll get it." Stiles offered, just as he starts to take off, we all hear the unmistakable sparking of an already lit flare.

All our eyes turn to find Scott standing just past the parked cars and holding the flare in one hand. Strangely, he's dripping wet. Soaked all over. But the trail of liquid leading to a tell-tale orange container nearby tells them it's not water.

My breath hitches, realising what it was.

It's gasoline.

We surround him as he holds the flare in his hand. Scott barely seems to notice Allison call his name. "Scott?" Allison calls.

In an odd trance-like haze, Scott slowly meets her eyes. "There's no hope."

"What do you mean? Scott? There's always hope." Allison tells him.

"Not for me. Not for Derek." My heart breaks.

Scott raises the sparking flare while Allison, Stiles, Lydia and I watch, helpless to stop him. "But Derek wasn't your fault. You know it wasn't." Allison continues.

Staring at the sparks jumping off the flare's edge, Scott shakes his head. "Every time I try to fight back, it just gets worse. People keep getting hurt. And the harder I try to protect everyone, the more people get hurt, the more people get killed."

"That's not true." Allison denied.

"It's true," Scott said back.

"Scott, this isn't you. This is someone in your head telling you to do this." Stiles informed him.

"What if it's not? What if it is just me? What if doing this is actually the best thing I could do for everyone else?" Scott asked. With the flare lowering dangerously close to the gasoline pool, Scott turns to Stiles. "All of it started that night. The night I was bitten. Remember what it was like before that? You and me? We were nothing. We weren't popular. We weren't good at lacrosse. We weren't important. We were no one. Maybe I should be no one again. No one at all." He says the last part softly.

Stiles takes a step forward, an odd calm replacing the panic. "Scott, listen to me. All right? You're not no one. Okay? And I need you. Scott, you're my brother." He looks down at the line of gasoline leading toward the pool in which Scott stands. "So, I guess you'll have to take me with you."

Tears filled my eyes as Stiles takes a step into the gasoline. One careful but deliberate step at a time, Stiles approaches Scott. He reaches out. Scott's fingers tighten around the flare. But Stiles gently grasps it and slowly pulls it from his hand.

As we breathe in relief, Stiles tosses the sparking flare aside. I watched it tumble across the pavement until a strange gust of wind sent it back toward the gasoline pool. "No!" I screamed out, darting forward; I pushed Scott and Stiles to the ground as a fireball erupted behind us.

⇉

With the bright sunlight streaming in through its windows, the bus door yanks open and Coach steps inside, followed by the Cross Country Team.

Scott, Stiles, Allison, Lydia, Boyd, Isaac, and I all in our seats. "I don't want to know." Coach tells us. I woke up. I was leaning on Stiles' head; my hand clutched to his the entire night. "I really, really don't want to know. But in case you missed the announcement, the meeting's cancelled, so we're heading home. Pack it in, pack it in."

Ethan takes a seat next to Scott as we all wake up. "I don't know what happened last night," he begins. "But I'm pretty sure you saved my life."

"Actually, I saved your life," Stiles added. "But not that it matters that much." The rest of the students piled in. "It's just minor details."

"So, I'm gonna give you something." Ethan continued to ignore Stiles and looked at Scott. "We're pretty sure Derek's still alive." Scott looked hopeful and dumbfounded at the same time. "But he killed one of ours. That means one of two things can happen. Either he joins our pack..."

"And kills his own." Scott continued.

"Or Kali goes after him, and we kill him." Ethan nodded. "That's the way it works."

"You know, your little code of ethics there is sort of barbaric, just FYI," Stiles added as Ethan leaves to find another seat.

"Coach, can I see your whistle for a second?" Lydia questioned as he walked down the aisle. She doesn't take no for an answer and takes it off his neck.

"Hey! I'm gonna need that back." Coach tells her. She takes another seat beside Scott. She blows on the whistle and reveals dark purple dust on her hands.

"Wolfsbane." Lydia realised.

"So, every time the Coach blew the whistle on the bus, Scott, Paige, Isaac, Boyd..." Stiles listed.

"And Ethan," Lydia adds.

"We all inhaled it." Scott continued.

"You were all poisoned by it." Allison noted.

"So that's how the Darach got in their heads." Stiles nodded. "That's how he did it." My mouth drops as I stare, dumbfounded. Stiles then took it out of Lydia's hand and threw it out of the window.

"Hey, hey, hey! Stilinski!" Coach snapped, and the bus drove off, leaving the whistle there. After Stiles got an ear fill, Coach went back to harassing the other students.

Stiles turns to me, giving me a soft look. "You okay?"

I bit the inside of my cheek and looked out the window. "Yeah... Thank you." I tell him, turning to him. "And thank you, for saving me."

He smiled a little. "I'll always save you, Paigey." I pecked his cheek before sliding down the chair.

—Ella Speaks
This episode always, and I mean always, makes me sob. Tyler and Dylan performed so well <3