Chapter Twenty-Eight

I had immediately been called to the Sheriff's Station that very same night after Lydia had translated Latin. I was nervous as I waited alone in the Sheriff's office, with my Dad knowing about Scott, Stiles, and I kidnapping Jackson.

We crowd around the phone, listening to Allison. "If Jackson doesn't know what he's doing then he probably doesn't know someone's controlling him," Allison explained.

"Or doesn't remember." Scott figured.

"What if it's the same kind of thing that happened to Lydia when she took off from the hospital?" Stiles asked.

"A fugue state," Allison answered.

"He'd have to forget everything. The murder, coming home..." Scott figured.

"Getting rid of the blood." I continued.

"But he had help with one thing. The video." Stiles reminded us. "Someone else helped him forget that..." Scott looks up from Stiles' phone.

"Whoever's controlling him." Scott finished.

"Are you sure Jackson has no clue about any of this?" Allison asked.

"He thinks he's still becoming a werewolf and that being with Lydia somehow delayed the whole thing. And also thinks that Paige has something to do with it, too." Stiles chimed in.

"So do we try to convince him he's not?" Allison questioned.

"If it helps us figure out who's controlling him, then yeah." Scott agreed.

"You think he'll talk to us after what we did?" I asked softly.

"Yeah. Totally." Stiles looked at Scott. "Right?"

⇉

Stiles, Scott, and I sit at a table in the interrogation room, listening to Stilinski who reads from a clipboard. "You will not go within fifty feet of Jackson Whittemore. You will not speak to him. You will not approach him. You will not assault or harass him physically or psychologically." Sheriff Stilinski explained the situation to us and I avoided my Dad's glaring gaze from across the room.

Stilinski glances at Mr. Whittemore, who nods with satisfaction. Beside them, Melissa McCall tries to keep her weary head propped up with a hand.

"What about school?" Stiles asked.

"You can attend classes while maintaining a fifty-foot distance." Sheriff Stilinski told his son.

"What if we both have to go to the bathroom at the same time, and there's only two stalls right next to each other?" Stiles questioned. Sheriff Stilinski aims a glare of white-hot rage at his son. "I'll just hold it."

Now, outside the interrogation room, Sheriff Stilinski tries to keep from strangling Stiles, while my Dad was right next to him, the two of them scowling at us. "Do I need to remind you how lucky we are they're not pressing charges?" Sheriff Stilinski hissed at his son. My Dad was glaring at me, giving me the worst punishment of all.

Not talking to me.

"It was a joke. I didn't know it would be taken this seriously. Humour's very subjective, Dad. We're talking multiple levels of interpretation." Stiles explained poorly.

"And how exactly should I interpret the stolen Prison Transport Van?" Sheriff Stilinski raised an eyebrow.

"We filled the tank." Stiles lamely responded.

As Sheriff Stilinski glares in silent fury, Melissa pulls Scott down the corridor past us. "It's not just this. Although, a restraining order is low I didn't think you'd reach quite this soon. It's everything on top of it. The completely bizarre behaviour, the late nights coming home, having to beg Mr Harris to let you make up the Chemistry test you missed." Melissa snapped at her son.

"I missed a Chemistry test?" Scott asked, surprised.

"Really, Scott? Really?" Melissas deadpans.

"I'll talk to you later tonight, Paige–Kennedy." I winced at the full name. My name isn't actually Paige; it's Paige–Kennedy. My parents couldn't decide between the two names, so they used them both. But most people call me Paige.

"Your name is Paige-Kennedy?" Stiles questioned I shot him a glare, and he backed down from questioning it. Dad had walked back into the interrogation room, Stiles and I turning to the argument between Melissa and Scott.

"I have to ground you. I'm grounding you. You're grounded." Melissa snapped.

"What about work?" Scott questioned.

"Fine. Other than work. And no TV." Melissa added on.

"The TV's broken." Scott pointed out, and Melissa began to get stressed.

"Then no computer." Melissa shakes her head.

"I need my computer for school..." Scott trailed off.

"Then no..." She glanced at Stiles and me. "Then no Stiles. And no Paige, either!"

"No, Stiles and Paige?" Stiles' eyes widened.

"Neither!" Melissa snapped. Scott flinches back as she practically takes his head off. "And no more car privileges. Give me your key." Scott hands over his keys. Trying to pry the car key off, Melissa can't get the steel ring to pull back far enough to release it. "Oh, for the love of God..."

"Mom, let me do it. Mom? Mom, will you just--Mom." Scott sighed.

He takes her hands in his. Still gripping the keys, Melissa meets his concerned gaze. "What's going on with you? Is this about Allison?" Melissa whispered lowly.

Behind her, Stiles vehemently shakes his head. "You really want to know?" Scott asked.

"Yes." Melissa pleaded. Stiles and I continued to shake our heads, telling him no. I cut my throat with my hands, telling him to cut it off.  Scott almost seems ready to tell her, lips pressed together as if trying not to let the secret out. "Is it about your father?" Behind her, Stiles and I frantically nod our heads. "It is, isn't it?"

Finally, Scott nods. He gently takes the key ring out of her hands and pulls the car key off. As he hands it over, he notices the tears welling in her eyes. "Okay, we'll talk about it at home. I'll bring the car around." Melissa told him.

As she stepped away, Stiles and I took her place at Scott's side. "I'm the worst son ever," Scott whined.

"Yeah, I'm not winning any prizes, either." Stiles agreed.

"Well, I'm the worst daughter." I pouted. I glanced over to the window of the interrogation room where they saw Mr Whittemore ripping into Stilinski and my Dad, face reddening as he shouted and jabbed an angry finger at the Sheriff.

We turn away to face an even more unpleasant sight, Jackson. Sitting on a bench in the waiting area, he smiles at us. A particularly self-satisfied smile. 

⇉

Morning light pours in through the library windows over Allison, and I step inside. She glances at one of the wall cameras and then walks into the book stacks out of its view. 

Unzipping her bag, she removes a pantech element tablet. She casually places the tablet between the books on a shelf as casually as possible.

On the other side of the stack, Scott takes the tablet. With Stiles peering over his shoulder, he taps the screen to look over a page of the Bestiary and the translation next to it. On our side of the shelf, Allison opens a book, trying to look inconspicuous as she whispers to them.

"It's everything Lydia could translate. And trust me, she was very confused." Allison whispered, her eyes glued to the book. I paired at the book, trying to make it look like we were discussing this book together.

"What did you tell her?" Scott asked.

"We're part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures," Allison responded, and I chuckled.

"I am part of an online gaming community that battles mythical creatures," Stiles confessed.

Allison's face dropped in surprise. "Oh. Great."

"Does it say how to find out who's controlling him?" Scott asked.

"Not really. But Stiles was right about murderers. It calls the Kanima a weapon of vengeance. There's a story in there about a South American priest who used the Kanima to execute murderers in his village—"

"So maybe it's not all bad." Stiles cuts off Allison.

"Until the bond grew strong enough that it killed whoever he wanted it to." Allison finished.

"All bad. All very bad." Stiles nodded.

"Here's the thing, though. The Kanima's actually supposed to be a werewolf. But it can't be until..." Allison continued to explain. Allison pauses as a teacher passes by the stacks. But Scott picks up the reference from the tablet.

"Until it resolves that in its past which manifested it." Scott read.

"If that means Jackson could use a few thousand hours of therapy, I could've told you that myself," Stiles muttered.

"What if it has to do with his parents? His real parents." Allison questioned.

"Does anybody actually know what happened to them?" Scott asked.

I thought for a moment. "Lydia might."

"What if she doesn't know anything?" Scott asked us.

"Well, he didn't get a restraining order against me. So I'll try talking to him myself." Allison informed the three of us.

"What do I do?" Scott asked.

"You've got a make-up exam, remember? For a few hours, you need to concentrate on not failing out of high school. Otherwise, you're not going to be helping anyone." Allison told him. Scott looks to Stiles, who nods, backing her up. "Promise me."

She reaches a hand between the books, taking his. Just her touch has an immediate effect on him. "Okay. But if Jackson does anything, you run the other way." Scott tells her.

"I can take care of myself." Allison proudly said.

"If you get hurt while I'm busy with a stupid test, someone's going to need to take care of me. If he does anything..." Scott trailed.

"Like?" Allison raised an eyebrow.

"Anything weird, bizarre, anything," Scott stressed.

"Anything evil," Stiles added.

Allison nods, then pushes his face back, and the books fall in to fill the empty space. I smiled as she placed the book back. "Good luck, call me," I told her, and she nodded before leaving casually, and I casually walked towards the boys.

⇉

My goal for today was to talk about Jackson with Lydia. Stiles was talking to Erica, and Allison was talking to Jackson himself. I hadn't heard from anyone in a while, but for me, that didn't matter as I'm walking down the hallways with Lydia to try and squeeze information out of her.

"So, Lyds, what do you know about Jackson and his parents?" I asked her as we walked slowly. She gives me a questioning look.

"Huh?" She mumbled. "Why do you want to know about Jackson? You've never been interested in him before."

"Because... You're my best friend?" I give her a pleading look.

"Cute." Lydia rolled her eyes. "But, I'm not supposed to tell, you know."

"Anyone who says I'm not supposed to tell anyone is always dying to tell someone. Tell me." I practically begged.

"Why do you want to know?" She asked.

"I—I can't tell you that." I stuttered.

Lydia gives me a look. "Then I'm not telling you."

"But you are telling me you could tell me something if you wanted to tell me?" I questioned her, and she gave me a confused look.

"Was that a question?" She asked.

"It—It felt like a question." I was also confused. Why am I starting to sound like Stiles now?

"Well, tell me if this feels like an answer: No." Lydia snapped.

"Lyds, Lydia, please—" She walked away quickly before I could even catch up to her. I huffed angrily and stood stupidly in the hallway. It also happened to the hallway where the locker rooms was.

"They kill your aunt. They almost kill Lydia. Who do you really think's going to be next? Not you. It can't be you because you're in love. Is that what you tell yourself? That Scott's different?" I heard an angry Jackson practically growl in the locker rooms and I frowned. I quickly realised he was talking to Allison in the locker room. "That everything's going to work out because you're in love? If you believe that, you're already dead. I just hope your Dad has been teaching you some moves to protect yourself." 

I growled lowly under my breath and walked slowly towards the locker room. "Actually... He has." Allison whispered.

I peered around the corner, watching as Allison's hands came up, pushing his arms out and away as she rammed her palm right into his throat. Choking, Jackson stumbles back. But one hand hooks into the strap of her bag, and he manages to drag her to the floor. They land hard, bodies smacking against cement.

"Allison?" Jackson asked, his voice sounding normal. He looks at her, confused, a complete change in his demeanour. Realizing he's naked, he grabs a pair of shorts. "What are you doing here?"

Suddenly, I was pushed out of the way before I could reveal myself and Scott stepped in to witness the disturbing sight of Jackson pulling his shorts on while Allison rose from the floor across from him.

"I'm fine—I'm fine." Allison tried to tell Scott, but I knew Scott was already seeing red. I ran over to Allison with concern. I turned to see Scott whirl toward Jackson. Dropping his bag to the floor, he's suddenly moving, grabbing Jackson by the arms and lifting him right off his feet.

The half-naked Jackson soars across the room, slamming to a crashing halt against the lockers. However, a second later, he snaps his head with a furious glare. "Scott!" I exclaimed.

"I have a restraining order!" Jackson bewilders.

"Trust me. I restrained myself." Scott snapped. Jackson picks himself up, muscles tensing. He charges, moving with alarming speed. Scott tries to grab him, but he's too fast and too slippery.

Allison grabbed my hand, an we scrambled back as Scott soared past us, thrown into the shower, his body cracking brutally against the tile. Scott picked himself up off the shower floor, clearly pissed off.

"Scott, knock it off." I pleaded, but he didn't listen to me. I could only watch as they collided, pummelling each other. The blows come with savage brutality. It's a tile-smashing, floor-scratching, ceiling-bashing cage match.

From the opposite end of the locker room, Jackson picks up a 35-pound barbell plate. He tosses it like a frisbee. Incredibly, Scott catches it in both hands. But when he lowers the weight, he gets a fist to the face. He crashes back into a sink, snapping it right off the wall.

Water jets out from the broken pipe, dousing the floor.

I could feel myself getting riled up as I watched them fight. My wolf wanted to come out, but I'm trying so hard not to let her come out. Before I could even intervene, the Werewolf and the Kanima burst through the corridor.

"Are you okay?" I asked her. "Did he hurt you?"

Allison shook her head. "N—No, he wasn't himself."

We both rushed towards the door as a group of students watched the fight, along with Erica and Stiles. "Scott, Scott!" Stiles called out.

As Erica grabs hold of Jackson, he steps in front of his best friend. Still struggling, he knocks this kid with a camera to the floor right beside Scott's bag. 

"What the hell's going on?" Harris storms through. "Enough!" Harris had broken up the fight. I turn to notice that this kid with the camera has Scott's tablet.

"I think you dropped this." The kid gestured towards Scott.

Harris snatched the tablet from him. He uses it to point at Scott and Jackson. "You and you. Actually... All of you. Detention. Three o'clock." He pointed to me, Erica, Stiles, Allison, the kid with the camera, Scott and Jackson.

I sighed in frustration, glaring at Scott.

⇉

Harris seats his detained us apart in the library. Allison, Erica, Scott, Stiles, Jackson and a bewildered Matt. I heard that Matt was his name. 

"We can't be in detention together. I have a restraining order against these tools." Jackson explained to Harris.

"All of these tools?" Harris gestured towards our group.

"Just us tools." Stiles pointed to Scott, himself, and I.

"Fine. You three. Over there." Harris pointed across the room. Scott maintains a furious glare on Jackson as Stiles pulls him to another table.

"I'm going to kill him." Scott seethed.

"No, you're not. You're going to find out who's controlling him, and you're going to help save him." Stiles reminded him as we took a seat.

"No. You were right. Let's kill him." Scott agreed.

While Harris grades tests at the librarian's desk, Stiles taps Scott on the arm. "What if it's Matt? This whole thing comes back to the video, right?" Stiles asked, and I glanced over at Matt, who was looking at his computer closely.

Scott shakes his head. "Danny said Matt's the one who figured out there were two hours of footage missing."

"Exactly. He's trying to throw suspicion off himself." Stiles spoke.

I tried to keep myself busy by doodling in my notebook, trying to act like I'm working. "So he made Jackson kill Isaac's father, one of Argent's hunters and the mechanic working on your Jeep?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Stiles answered.

I glanced up. "Why?"

"Because... he's... evil," Stiles concluded, and I rolled my eyes.

"You just don't like him." Scott pointed out.

"The guy bugs me. I don't know why." Stiles spoke.

We all look over to see Matt eating from a bag of potato chips. He offers a chip to Jackson beside him. Jackson glares. Matt shrugs and keeps eating. "Any other theories?" I asked Stiles.

"I need to use the bathroom." Jackson raised his hand.

"You all right?" Harris questioned him. Hand wiping at the sweat on his forehead, Jackson gets up. "You don't look so good."

"I just need some water," Jackson told Harris.

Concerned, Harris follows him. "No one leaves their seat," Harris informed us.

But the moment the door closes behind them, Scott and Stiles jump up and race to Erica's table. I reluctantly followed. "Stiles says you know how Jackson's parents died." Scott told Erica.

"Maybe," Erica smirked.

"Talk," I demand.

"It was a car accident. My dad was the insurance investigator." Erica begun to explain. "Every time he sees Jackson drive by in his Porsche he makes some comment about the huge settlement he's getting when he's eighteen."

"Hold on. Are you saying Jackson's not only rich, but he's going to get even richer at eighteen?" Stiles asked with his eyes widening.

"Yep." Erica nods.

"There's something so deeply wrong with that." Stiles sighed.

"I could try to find the insurance report in my dad's dropbox. He keeps everything." Erica offered.

As she flips open her laptop, Stiles narrows his eyes at her. "Why are you being so helpful?" Stiles asked.

Without looking up, she answers. "Maybe I never got over that crush."

Crush? What crush is she talking about? I felt something twist inside me, and I wasn't sure what. Did Erica have a crush on Stiles? 

"Scott McCall. Please report to the Principal's Office." It sounded like Victoria, Allison's Mom. "Scott McCall to the Principal's Office, please."

Scott walked out of the room, leaving Erica, Stiles, and myself. From behind her laptop, Erica and Stiles also notice. But a chime sounds, turning them back to the computer where they read the details of the insurance investigation into the deaths of Jackson's parents.

"Look at the dates. His parents—"

"—arrived at the hospital D.O.A. Both of them. Estimated time of death 9:26 pm, June 14th 1995." Erica cuts Stiles off, and I feel myself getting annoyed at them. What is going on with me today?

"Jackson's birthday is June 15th." I cut in, and they both glanced at me.

Before Erica can react, the sound of Harris zipping up his bag grabs their attention. Everyone begins packing their things to leave. "Oh no, I'm sorry. Yes, I'm leaving, but none of you are. You may go when you're done with the reshelving." Harris told us. Harris points to the carts overflowing with returned books. "Enjoy the rest of your evening."

⇉

Huddled together in one of the stacks, Scott, Stiles, Erica, Allison, and I whisper as they quickly shelve books.

"It means he was born after his mother died. By C-section. They had to pull him out of her dead body." Stiles explained to Scott and Allison.

"So, was it an accident or not?" Allison asked.

"The word all over the report is inconclusive," Stiles mentioned.

"Then his parents could have been murdered?" Scott questioned.

"If they were, it falls in line with the Kanima myth. It seeks out and kills murderers." Stiles explained.

"But for Jackson? Or for whoever's controlling him?" Allison frowned, and I stacked some books to get us out of there while they slowly did their jobs.

Scott takes a few steps back from us. "We have to talk to him. We have to tell him." Scott told us.

"He's not going to listen—" Allison began.

But Scott's already moving away from their row and toward Jackson's. I sighed and shook my head. Scott never listens to anyone but himself nowadays.

Suddenly, there was a burst of glass and sparks, and a light above us went out. "Erica!" I heard Scott yell. Erica had disappeared from us.

Something moves above the stacks, leaping and bounding across them, lights bursting and shattering. I pulled Stiles and Allison back away as sparks fell.

"Look out—" I begin to speak, but the dark figure racing between the rows is too fast. Erica tumbles to the floor, a hand on the back of her neck.

Scott whirls around to find Jackson standing in front of him. Arms covered in scales, mouth filled with a double row of teeth, he's half-in and half-out of the transformation. Scott launches up to attack, but Jackson is far more powerful. He tosses Scott into a book cart with ease.

The library goes quiet. Breathless, Stiles and Allison glance around. Back to normal, Scott peers up from the pile of books. The four of us spot Jackson standing at an easel chalk board. His head lolls to the side, eyes a blank white. No irises. His arm slowly lifts. He looks like a marionette being controlled by unseen strings.

Chalk in his clawed hand, Jackson begins writing on the board. Head never turning to see what he's doing, it looks like someone is using his body, controlling it to send a hastily scrawled threat: Stay out of my way. Or I'll kill all of you.

Chills send down my body as the chalk falls to the floor. His head swivelling to look at them with a glowing-eyed stare, Jackson darts forward. Hands hitting the carpet as he drops to all fours, he leaps up and smashes through the library window.

As Scott and Allison come forward, Stiles gathers the paralyzed Erica. Except she's beginning to shake, tremors rippling through her body. I glanced down at Erica worriedly, standing beside Stiles.

"I think... I think she's having a seizure." Stiles spoke.

Stiles tries to keep Erica on her side between the stacks as her body wrenches and twists with violent spasms. Nearby, Allison pulls Matt onto his back.

"He's alive," Allison announced.

Scott turns to Erica, her seizure seeming to be getting worse. "We need to get her to a hospital," I spoke, bent down beside Stiles, helping him keep her on her side.

Erica's hand latches around Stiles's wrist. "Derek—only to Derek." Erica croaked out.

"When we get to the hospital—"

"To Derek." Erica had cut off Scott.

Allison gauges Scott's reaction, the look of conflict on him. "Go." Allison spoke.

Scott shakes his head. "I'm staying here with you."

"They can't take her alone. Not like this. And Matt—I've got to call an ambulance for him. Go." Allison insisted. 

"Scott, listen, I'll stay with Allison; you go with Stiles." I determined. "I'll help her."

Scott looked between us. "This doesn't feel right."

"It's okay." Allison half-smiled. "I'll have Paige with me."

"It's not. It's not right." Scott shook his head.

"It doesn't mean anything," Allison spoke.

"But it feels like it does," Scott answered.

"Scott, go. Go." Allison continued to insist.

Finally, Scott begins helping Stiles lift the shaking Erica off the library floor. They leave, leaving Allison and I alone with Matt.

"I'll call 911."