This chapter is dedicated to epscabanas because you are just the sweetest.

I had just watched Parrish leave Tracy Stewart's house before Lydia and I made our way over to my car. I was happily commenting on their little exchange, but my best friend was having none of it.

"June I swear, if you don't stop talking-"

"Oh come on, Lydia, you were being a little flirty back there."

"I was not! It's just coffee," I sent a smirk over to her and she rolled her eyes, "Nothing more, nothing less."

"It's obviously something more if you're going to run and get him coffee at midnight, that's all I'm saying."

"June, June, June, you're a silly one." We drove off in the direction of my house.

I scoffed, "Did I not just hear you say, and I quote, 'We had enough credits to graduate last year. And I will bring you coffee if I want to'?"

"It would've been flirty had I opted to come alone, not bring you."

"You only did that because he said he owed us for trying to help him with figuring out what he is exactly."

"Right, so therefore, I'm not flirting."

I decided to drop the subject, as we were both too stubborn to give in to what the other was saying, and slumped in my seat, "Fine, fine. But if I'm doing this since you volunteered me, you're going to help me with something else."

"And what would that be?"

"I've been asked to apply early, but I just needed help finalizing which essays to pull for the application." We eventually made it to my house, and the sun hung low in the sky, drenching our surroundings in hues of deep pinks and oranges.

"Is this the application for Stanford? I haven't even started on that one yet." Lydia kicked off her shoes and we made our way up to my bedroom, the light from outside flooding the room, and warming up the carpet on our bare toes. I sighed, turning on a lamp next to my bed before plopping down on it. I felt Lydia fall down next to me before I blurted out what I had told no one before.

"No, it's actually for Yale."

I saw from the corner of my eye Lydia slowly sit up in realization. "Yale? What for?"

I sat up too, shrugging, "Ginny went there. She says it was one of the best places in the world, and I dunno, I think I owe it to her to kind of just apply."

"Have you told Stiles this?" I picked at the seams of my comforter, silently ignoring her question, "June!"

"No," I groaned, running my hands over my face, "No I haven't. I'm not - I'm not really taking this seriously, okay? I figured I'd apply for Ginny's sake, not really anything else."

"But what if you get in? I mean, Yale has the top library science program in the country."

"It has not escaped my attention," I muttered, letting Lydia discover my conflict rather than just admit it out loud.

"Is that what you've decided on? You want to be a historical archivist?"

"Lydia, I haven't even gotten into a college yet, let's take it one step at a time." I grabbed my laptop from my backpack and placed it on my bed, "Stanford is still my top pick. I just want this out of my hair."

"Then why do you need my help with an application that you're not even fully on board with?"

"Because Lydia, I might not be invested one hundred percent, but I'm not going to half-ass an application to Yale. Could you imagine what they would think of me if I didn't show them my full potential?"

"That you were a normal Ivy League student?"

"Just help me."

{+}

A ways away at the edges of the preserve, Scott McCall silently leaned against his bike, waiting to gently confront his seemingly paranoid best friend. Stiles rounded the front of his jeep, trailed by a distracted Liam, and the two of them halted when they looked up to see Scott in front of them. Stiles felt small, like he was preparing himself for the scolding he was about to receive, but also planning his justification.

"Find anything?" Scott asked rhetorically.

"Nope," Stiles hoped that this was all the conversation would entail, as he continued over to his jeep, opening the door.

Liam, not even using his werewolf powers to sense the awkward tension hanging in the air, opted to lighten the mood, "I fell in a hole."

Scott spared Liam a look before he slowly made his way over to Stiles, who was fumbling with his keys inside the jeep before staring straight ahead at the dark wood.

"It was the bridge where his sister died, wasn't it?"

"Yes it was. Very embarrassing. So we're gonna leave now," Stiles didn't leave much for Scott to say. He inserted the right key (or the wrong key, the jeep didn't seem to care much at this point) into the ignition and turned it over, only to hear the shaky stall of the jeep not giving way.

Stiles' eyes closed in a disbelieving manner, cursing every higher power out there for his luck. He hopped out of the jeep and brushed past Scott. "Liam, just do me a favor, get in the car and turn the ignition when I say." He stormed over to the hood, propping it open and deliberately fiddling with things in effort to avoid talking to Scott.

His efforts were in vain, for Scott wasn't done. "Stiles?"

"Be with ya in a sec," He replied, feeling the shame of coming up short rest too comfortably on his shoulders. "Try it," He yelled over to Liam. Once again, the jeep did nothing.

"Stiles," He used a more firm tone.

"Yes. Okay, we followed him out here. What do you want me to say? That I'm a stalker, huh? That I'm crazy, totally paranoid? None of this is new information." Scott could see him reaching a breaking point, he just wasn't sure how explosive it was going to be.

"Not even gonna try to at least give him the benefit of the doubt?"

Stiles stopped working and pointed a finger at Scott, "I give people the benefit of the doubt. I have given a lot of benefit to a lot of people." He wanted to continue that statement, but didn't find the right words in time. Stiles instead chose to turn back to the duct taped engine.

"Like Derek?" Despite Scott's gentle tone, Stiles still tensed, "Kira? Liam? June?"

Stiles pursed his lips and angrily rounded on Scott, "Do not bring her into this. Don't try and justify your cause by using my girlfriend as an example. They are not who I was talking about. I was right about the wrong people, okay? I was right about Peter. Try it again!" No such luck was on Stiles' side tonight. He shook his head before turning back to Scott. "You know, I bet you still think there's something about him that can be saved."

Scott shrugged, "Maybe."

Stiles wasn't having any of his naivety. He was simply far too exhausted and frustrated to put up with it. He instead chose to say nothing in response. "Try it again!" His voice got progressively louder.

"Why can't you trust anyone?" Scott ignored the stalling of the jeep and stared at Stiles.

"BECAUSE YOU TRUST EVERYONE!" Stiles had finally had enough. Tired of feeling looked down upon for his suspicion, he channeled his anger into his fist, colliding it with the jeep. His adrenaline was short-lived, and he was suddenly blinded to everything but the pain radiating from his fist. Not giving way, not letting Scott know how bad he was hurting, Stiles remained silent with great effort.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked, rounding out the question to fit more than just an injured fist.

"I'm fine," It took nearly everything Stiles had to keep his voice from slipping into the higher octaves.

"You could've broken it."

"It's not broken."

"Let me see it."

"I'm fine," Stiles repeated, leaning heavily against the jeep for support.

Scott silently scoffed, staring at his friend, "Let me see it." He grabbed for the hand Stiles silently offered, and gladly took away the pain. He inhaled sharply when a strong surge of pain came forth, but was quickly relieved afterwards. Stiles stared at his hand in shock, feeling no more pain, and easily able to flex his fingers. It was like nothing had happened.

The jeep decided to start after all, and was quick to make her getaway, for Stiles didn't want to stick around much longer. Liam asked to be dropped off near the school, citing something about talking to Mason, but Stiles didn't really care. All he wanted to do was go talk to the one person who was seemingly on his side.

He figured he'd go home and drop off his jeep before walking over to her house. He opened the mailbox for his dad and grabbed a hold of all the contents. Flicking through them as he walked in the door, he froze when he saw that some of June's mail got mixed in with his. The first thing to catch his attention was the Stanford newsletter talking about how it was already time to apply. What made him upset was the matching newsletter from Yale that had the witch's name on it, explaining the very same thing.

Stiles was drained, and more so not ready to overthink this entire situation. I'm sure June has a perfectly acceptable reason for this being in her mail. He threw it on the counter and was stopped once more by his phone vibrating in his pocket.

As if the day was trying its very best to become worse, Stiles had received a text message from Braeden. All it contained was an image of multiple people lying dead in a mixture of their blood, scratch marks littering their bodies, and a warning from Braeden.

She knows we're looking into this. Malia needs to be warned.

{+}

I happily perched myself on the arm of the couch sitting in Sheriff Stilinski's office, munching on one of the free donuts that sat in the department. Earlier this evening, I was getting ready to meet Lydia, Kira, and Malia when my phone went off, signaling a text from the sheriff himself, surprisingly, asking if I could come in and help him with something. It turns out, that something was fashion advice, for he had a date right after work ended. Stiles and Scott were already there, and were staring cluelessly at the different ties in the selection.

Brushing crumbs off of my coat, I pointed at the navy blue tie, and let Stilinski button himself up. I tried to contain my laugh as he buttoned up his shirt and dusted off his jacket, almost like he was gearing up for battle. I smiled as he did, satisfaction and a hint of giddiness on his face. He rounded to me and held out his arms in a do I look presentable for this date or do I look like like a Bible Belt backwoods living, Donald Trump supporting kind of idiot? I obviously thought it was the former.

I handed him a mirror while I straightened his tie, and so very much like his son, his hands flew to his hair. He started fidgeting, and I smacked his arms away so I could re-knot the navy blue tie that sat crooked at the base of his throat.

"Oh, I should've got a haircut," He fussed, and I shook my head.

Unfortunately, any reassuring I was about to spit out was interrupted by Stiles' own brand of reassurance from right behind me. "Well you know, someone your age should be happy you still have hair to cut." I leaned back and stepped firmly on his toes, smiling when I heard a yelp.

"I think you look great," Scott said, and I stepped back once the tie was corrected. Sheriff Stilinski and I both turned to him and offered warm smiles.

"Well thank you, son I should've had." I snickered at the comment, while Stiles' face fell into confusion. He couldn't retort, for his dad sighed out in frustration, tugging on the tie that I had only just perfected. "What the hell am I doing? This is a terrible idea."

Stiles grabbed him by the shoulders, "What, Dad... Dad, it is one date, okay? The town of Beacon Hills won't implode while you're out with one woman." He straightened his dad's tie and brushed off his shoulders, "Or man," He added as afterthought.

"It's a woman, Stiles," He smiled, seemingly remembering who he was enjoying the evening with, "A very beautiful woman." My heart skipped a beat, and it took all I had not to coo, for I feel like that would've been a deal-breaker.

"What beautiful woman, by the way?" Apparently, Stiles was not able to figure out just who caught his dad's attention. I could tell it was irking him to no end.

"None of your business, any of you." Scott and I smiled in acceptance, but Stiles was a little too eager.

"I wanna know." He never got the chance.

"STILINSKI!" We heard someone roar through the station. "STILINSKI!" We exited the sheriff's office to see a tall boy restrained by two sets of handcuffs (one pair on his hands, the other around his ankles) struggling against two deputies, while his apparent lawyer looked on in horror. His dark hair and olive skin only added to the distortion of his face, as it twisted up into a look of pure disdain and malice. Now, I wasn't a religious person by any means, but I swear, that boy had the devil in his eyes.

"I'm gonna kill you," He snarled, while Parrish and another deputy by the name of Clark tightened their grip around him.

"Donovan," The sheriff answered in quiet exasperation, familiarity all over his voice, "If you think that shocks me, remember it was well documented in your Anger Expression Inventory. Deputies, escort the prisoner out," My eyes widened of the thought of this walking demon actually wearing a police uniform.

"I'm not angry, like I'm gonna throw a brick through your window," He smirked, he actually had the nerve to smirk. I felt Stiles stand protectively in front of me. "I'm angry, like I'm gonna find you, I'm gonna get a knife, and I'm gonna stab you with it until you're dead," The poor lawyer rest his head in his hands. "And when you look at me, and ask me why, remember right now. Because this is why."

We all stood there in grim silence, letting his words hang over all of us. My boyfriend, who may have been concerned, certainly didn't show it through his next actions. "Wow that was awesome," He had the audacity to start clapping, "That was awesome, that was great." Donovan's eyes flickered from Stiles over to me, who was still positioned behind him, silently begging him to stop. "Can we do one more? Give us another one, maybe Christopher Walken style, you know?" He shimmied his shoulders, "Okay, you know what? It's fine. You'll have plenty of time to work on it, in your tiny, little cell, you know, just stuck there forever."

He smiled, taking in the taunts, before whatever evil resided in him lost it. Furiously, he lunged as far as he could due to the restraints on his legs and arms. He clawed over the deputies and reached for us.

"Get him out of here!" The sheriff barked, but apparently Donovan wasn't done.

"You're dead. You, your son, and even your son's little bitch, you're all done with!" I felt Stiles tense when he looked over at me, but not much more could be done, for Donovan was dragged through the station doors.

Once everything and every one had calmed down, Stiles broke the tension, "Well honestly, I think that went rather well."

"What the hell's an Anger Expression Inventory?" Scott asked.

"It's a test you take when you're applying to become a deputy," Stiles answered, sighing, and placing his hands on his hips.

Scott's eyes widened, "That guy wanted to be a cop?"

I shrugged, "At least now he's getting the full law enforcement experience." I punched Stiles' arm hard, and he whirled around in confusion, "I need to meet Lydia, but you ever pull something that stupid again, I'll kill you." I kissed him on the cheek and hugged the sheriff goodbye, but not before wishing him the best with his date. I figured the mood might as well end on a happier note, not the one that was all secretly worrying us.

{+}

"It's anxiety," Stiles admitted to his best friend, as the two sat in the jeep together. Scott raised a questioning eyebrow.

"What is?"

"The chemo signals?" He turned to Scott's clueless expression, "Oh, I'm well aware of how you monitor my emotional state. Yeah." He tried the engine again, only to have it sputter weakly. Stiles hit the flat of his hand against the steering wheel, and Scott could only find it reminiscent of just the past evening, when he nearly broke his hand hitting the same car.

"You okay?" Scott genuinely wanted to know, keeping his voice quiet and soothing.

"I think June might be applying to Yale," He admitted, thinking about that stupid newsletter sitting on his countertop. "I got something in the mail from them, a clear mix-up, really, and it was encouraging her to apply. And I genuinely think she might."

"I thought she told you about Stanford."

"Yeah she told me she wanted to study library science at Stanford. She told me I was the first person she told. But the thing is, as far as Ivy League schools go, Stanford isn't as equipped when it comes to her major. Yale is actually the number one school in the country for that particular major, and as far as I'm aware, they really want her to apply."

"You think she'd bail on the plan?"

"The vision, and no, I just - I don't - I don't know. Is it selfish that I don't want her to be so far away from me, no matter how bad I want her to follow her dreams?"

Scott shrugged, "I'm kind of lost, are you wanting her to stay? Do you want her to go? What do you want her to do?"

"I just want what's best for June, and I don't think that's Stanford."

"Okay, so what are you concerned about?"

"It's freaking Yale, you know, she'll be with people her speed. People who can keep up with her intellectually, and be interested in the same stuff. What if - what if she moves on to something better? Better than the vision?"

"Better than the vision, or better than you?" Scott asked, and Stiles simply gripped the steering wheel tighter in answer. "Stiles, I don't think June would do something like that without telling you about it first. She relies on you more than you seem to think." Stiles scoffed. "I'm serious, dude. She thinks the world of your opinions, and values your insight."

"Yeah, okay. She values my opinions just as much as she values a pre-schooler's."

"I think that's your problem, man." Scott wasn't holding back for his friend's sake, "You think June is some other-worldly being who knows everything about everything. Like she's some far away thing that you only get a glimpse of."

"Okay, now I'm lost."

"She's just a person, Stiles. I mean yeah, she's a freaking genius, and a witch, and a pretty spectacular person overall. But she's just a person, Stiles, she's not untouchable." Stiles knew that last part, his mind inadvertently wandered over to their nights after their hike in the redwoods. He shook his head and tried to listen to what Scott was saying.

"And you're lucky to have her, but not for the reason you think. You're not lucky because she's an unearthly being who somehow chose to date you out of everyone in the universe. You're lucky because you two work together, and bring out the best in each other. I mean, you guys just fit, it's not rocket science, it's love. She loves you, and all you gotta do to put this behind you is just talk to her." Stiles felt comforted, until his next sentence, "Talk after her driving lesson with Malia."

Stiles tensed yet again. "All right," He dug out his phone, "I also got this from Braeden last night." He pulled up the text and handed it to Scott. His eyes widened in shock at the picture. "That's the first real bit of information we've gotten on the desert wolf in months."

"The desert wolf did this?" Scott was in disbelief.

"Yeah. And I'm the one who's been pulling on this thread." Stiles' anxiety came back in a new wave.

"Maybe you should stop," Scott warned him, eyes wide as he handed back Stiles his phone.

"No, it's not up to me."

{+}

I wonder if I had ever mentioned to any of my friends that I don't like people driving me around. It reminds me of New York, where we had a personal chauffeur, and how his driving was close to suicidal on those packed streets. Stiles was a firm exception to the driving rule, because I trusted him with my life, despite the near fatal car crash that occurred in the Jennifer Blake era of our lives.

Malia was a close second with the whole suicidal driving aspect. I let it slide because she was still in a learning stage, but whoever let me agree to teaching her how to drive made a severe mistake. By severe mistake, I mean I would rather Bernie Sanders tell me I diddily done fucked up than sit in that car and have Malia drive me around. And by whoever let me, I mean Lydia Martin.

I was praying, and I don't pray. I was praying when I got in the car. I was praying when Malia let her foot off the brake. I especially was praying (and maybe casting a shield) when she drove off the road, and nearly drove into a tree. I nearly vomited in her new car after she got back on the road and drove in a circle. It was all terrifying, and then she got on the highway.

She seemed to be fine once she got her bearings, but Lydia, who I made sit in the front seat (back seat is the safest place in a car) started giving her incorrect directions. Kira picked up on it too, for Lyds had told her that we were headed back to the school. We weren't.

"Lydia, we're actually heading downtown."

"What?"

"If we want to go to the school, we should make a U-turn, shouldn't we?"

"No," There was an eerie resolution to her voice, "Keep going."

"You sure?" Malia asked.

"Yes. We're almost there."

Indeed we were. We pulled off to a place at the mouth of a tunnel on the outskirts of the city, only to find a large van blocking the entire thing off. The lights were on, and the back doors were wide open.

Getting closer, we approached the van to see oil and something darker stain the concrete. My feet scraped along the pavement when I froze. There in front was someone mangled, covered in blood, weakly reaching out for us. Almost immediately, I surged forward, attempting to help them. Behind me, I heard Lydia utter the words, "Call 911."

*****

Stilinski was fast on the scene. Still donned in his date clothes, I meekly apologized for ruining his date. He pat me on the shoulder and gave me a half-hearted smile. He then informed me that the van Lydia found was the transport van carrying Donovan, the malicious boy who threatened to kill the sheriff.

Worry grew for Stiles as the ambulance pulled up, carrying out several people that didn't have satanic-looking eyes. I knew Donovan got away, but I wasn't sure if Stiles did. My anxiety was short-lived, however, for Stiles and Scott both came marching through the crime scene like they were a part of the force.

"Boys," The sheriff beckoned them over to where the two of us stood, "Scott, you saw this kid, Donovan. He - he wasn't like you, right?"

Scott shook his head, "I don't think so."

"Unless he could hide his scent," I figured, not seeming very likely, despite the kid's monstrous attitude.

"Well, human or otherwise, this kid might've just murdered his lawyer and mortally wounded two officers. We've got an APB out on him, but you think you can find him faster?" Scott nodded, and Stilinski pulled out a radio.

"Alright, keep it on channel two." Scott backed away, inconspicuously skirting around all the other officers there until he was out of sight. I took Stiles' hand and we walked back to the others, who were finishing up a round of questions with a deputy.

"Dad, what if it wasn't Donovan?" Stiles asked, and Stilinski turned to him.

"I'm guessing you've already got a theory?"

He nodded, "Yeah, I think I do."

I narrowed my eyes, "You think Theo did this?"

He shrugged, "Maybe, maybe he killed someone and placed the blame on Donovan."

"I'm not saying you're wrong, Stiles, but-"

"But I'm wrong?"

"But having met the two of them, one of them is blatantly more inclined towards violent behavior than the other."

"Doesn't mean Theo isn't violent."

"I'm not discrediting your theory, Stiles. I'm just saying, don't get sloppy and go blaming him for every bad thing occurring in this town. You can't hold bias in a case like his."

I walked back over to Lydia, who was standing with Parrish and talking quietly. I was about to ask something, when a static cut me off coming from the direction of Jordan's shoulder.

He clutched it, and pressed down on a button, "Scott is that you?"

"Yeah, I found Donovan," I felt relief sink into my shoulders, and I exhaled deeply. "He's completely freaked out. He keeps saying some name."

"What name?" The sheriff asked."

"Theo," Stiles whispered.

"Tracy," Scott confirmed, and I tensed. "He keeps saying Tracy."

"Tracy who?"

I glanced over and shared a look with Lydia, "Stewart," We spoke simultaneously. "Tracy Stewart."

Hola! Filler, for sure, but it's kind of setting some stuff up. Love you all bunches, keep voting and commenting. Special shout-out to epscabanas because holy wow did your comments of my ENTIRE story make me laugh. I was going through some stuff and you made me smile, so thank you thank you. Unedited. Xx.