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I feel like that chapter was very emotionally driven. I'm sad.

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I stood beside the boys in the locker room, talking to Danny.

Coach suddenly barged out of his office, clearly annoyed at something. "Can someone tell me where the hell Jackson is and why he missed morning practice?"

Stiles, Scott and I all looked at each other awkwardly, avoiding the gaze of the Coach. We had a feeling we knew why, but we definitely couldn't attempt to even begin to explain that to Coach.

"I thought I told you to keep an eye on him," Stiles said quietly to Scott.

"Stilinksi!" Coach shouted. Damn it; so much for keeping a low profile. "Jackson?"

Stiles froze for a moment, before his brain kicked into gear. "Sorry, Coach, I haven't seen him since the last time I saw him."

"Oh, and when was that?" He asked, hand on his chin.

"Last time I saw him," Stiles repeated, "Was definitely the time I saw him last."

I scoffed loudly, before quickly covering my mouth with my hand to stifle my laughter. 

"Winters!" Coach growled. "I thought I told you no more coming in here?"

"Correct, Coach," I confirmed.

"Then why are you in here?" he asked, hands thrown in the air in frustration.

My pursed my lips trying to think of something, but then remembered that I was talking to Coach. "I mean, do you really care that I'm in here?"

He thought for a moment, before nodding. "Good point."
Coach then leaned down so that he was eye level with Danny, who was sitting on a bench. "Danny, tell Jackson no missing practice this close to the championships, okay?"

"Sure, Coach."

"That goes for all of you." He stepped into his office, grabbing the door handle. "I should be coaching college," he mumbled to himself before closing the door.

Danny spun back to us to finish the conversation we had been having about the tickets before Coach had shown up. "Sorry, but I only got two myself."

"Do you even have a date, man?" Stiles pestered, eager to get his hands on some tickets.

"I'm working on it," Danny replied bitterly.

"Okay, okay. Hear me out. You give us the tickets and you devote your life to abstinence, and just-"

But before Stiles could finish, someone grabbed one of his shoulders and one of Scott's. I glanced behind me, to see that the culprit was none other than Isaac.

His eyes were focused on me, a softness there that he saved for me.

But I couldn't. Not after everything.

Clearing my throat I told the boys I had forgotten my book for class and walked out of the locker room. I ended up leaning against the wall beside the entry door taking deep breaths. It was getting harder not to see him everywhere I went.

I kept taking deep breaths, relaxing my body.

"How do you losers even survive?" I heard Isaac ask. I quickly looked around, under the impression I had left them in the locker room.

Multiple scans of the hallway had me questioning my sanity. Isaac was no where to be seen.

"What are we supposed to do?" Scott replied. "No one's even selling."

Moments later, Isaac spoke again, "Wait here, boys."

I tried to figure out what he was going to do, when there was suddenly a loud crashing noise. It went on for half a minute to a minute.

When it went quiet, Isaac was speaking again. "Enjoy the show."

"Thank you," Scott said gratefully.

"I didn't do it for you," Isaac chuckled humorlessly. 

I heard Stiles laugh back just as amused as Isaac, "What? You think getting us tickets is going to make Riley forgive you?"

Stiles didn't know about the freezer. He still thought this was all about Isaac shutting me out and keeping secrets. He didn't know how complicated this had become.

I didn't hear Isaac reply, just footsteps growing louder. I quickly ran away, not wanting him to know I had been listening.

  ♡♢♤♧

"Ketamine?" Scott questioned.

We stood in the back of the veterinary clinic discussing how to catch the Kanima with doctor Deaton. He was showing us a bottle of ketamine and a needle.
"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage. If you can get close enough to Jackson, it should slow him down enough to buy you some time."

He handed the needle and vial to Scott, and then grabbed another vial with a strange symbol on it. "This is some of what you'll use to create the barrier. This is the part for you, Stiles. Only you."

Deaton pointed to the boy as he put the vial on the table. Stiles' face sunk a little, "What about Riley?"

The doctor looked at me like he knew something I didn't. "I'm sorry, Stiles, but it has to be you."

"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." He grabbed the vial, examining it. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"

Scott gave him a look, and Stiles put his hand up as to ask 'what?'

"It's from the mountain ash tree," Deaton explained. "Which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural. This office is lined with ash wood," he said, pointing to the walls. "Making it difficult for someone like Scott to cause me any trouble."

"Okay, so then what? I just spread this around the whole building and then either Jackson or whoever's controlling him can't cross it?"

The doctor nodded, "They'll be trapped."

"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott stated as he placed his hands on his hips.

There was no way it was going to be that easy.

"That's not all there is," Deaton added.

I sighed, "And there it is."

"Think of it like gunpowder. It's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."

Stiles was quick to be against the idea, "If you mean light myself on fire, I don't think I'm up for that."

I couldn't help but laugh, which resulted in a small smile breaking out on Stiles face. I felt myself blush slightly as I looked at my feet.

Deaton pursed his lips. "Let me try a different analogy. I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing before first imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind and their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."

"Force of will," Stiles mumbled. He looked terrified.

"Hey," Deaton said calmly, trying his best to rid Stiles of some of his stress. "If this is going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it." He held his hands up ridiculously like a showman. This didn't give me any more faith, so I didn't think it was going to work any better for Stiles.

The boy took a deep breath, even though he looked like he wanted to cry, before clearing his throat.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to somehow help him relax. "You can do this."

  ♡♢♤♧

Later that night we arrived at the night club. Stiles had picked Scott and I up on the way so that we didn't have to take separate cars. Something was wrong with Stiles, however. He was being strangely quiet. Thankfully, I wasn't the only one that had picked up on this.

"You okay?" Scott asked Stiles as the boy opened the back of the Jeep.

Stiles' brows creased as he looked at his friend. "Yeah, why?"

"'Cause you're acting weird," I told him honestly.

Scott nodded in agreement. "You didn't say anything the whole way here."

Stiles sighed, looking at us both. "No, I'm fine. Let's grab the other bag."

"We can't. Remember, Deaton said you have to do it alone," Scott reminded him. He then gave me a strange look, "I don't get why you can't help though."

Stiles was quick to jump to my aid, "Like you said, he said alone, so let's just leave it at that. This plan really sucks, though."

The wolf was paying attention anymore, he was looking into the distance, "No. Not here, not now."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Yeah," Stiles asked. The boy didn't answer just started to run away. "Scott! What am I supposed to. . . Plan officially sucks."

Stiles and I stood there as Scott ran off, not even bothering to tell us what the hell was going on. The boy threw the bag to the ground in frustration.

"I guess you've got to pour the ash."

With a groan, Stiles picked the bag back up and tore a small hole in the end before beginning to pour it on the ground.

I stayed silent the way around, not wanting to distract him. I walked between the line and the building, so that I was on the inside of the circle. Stiles' face was covered in concentration; he didn't want to mess it up.

When we were about fifteen metres away from the beginning of our mountain ash circle, we began to run out of ash.

"Now what?" I asked quietly.

Stiles pulled his phone out, scrolling down to Scott's contact and hitting call. "Scott, pick up. Pick up now. Look, I got, like, fifty feet of ash left and I'm out. Okay? So you got to get your wolf ass down here to help us because I don't know what to do. Riley and I are just standing out here and I'm-"

Suddenly there was a gunshot, and Stiles and I both looked up. Was someone dead?

"And we're all alone, and we're hearing gunfire and werewolves, and I'm standing here like a freaking idiot with Riley and a handful of magic fairy dust. And I don't have enough. Okay?" He hung up the phone, looking at me worriedly. "Okay, we need to think. Um, okay."

"Deaton, what'd he say?" I asked.

He took a deep breath, thinking. "He said I've got to believe. I need to believe." He looked away from me, focusing on his breathing. "Come on, believe, Stiles. Just picture it." He pointed a hand in front of him, staring at the beginning of the line. "Just imagine it working, okay? Just. . . Imagine."

I saw him looking at a car. The sticker said 'Imagination is more important than knowledge. - Einstein'.

He glanced over to me, his eyes still worried. I smiled at him, "I believe in you. Now - imagine."

He smiled back, turning back to the ground. "Imagine."
Taking a deep breath, he slowly started to walk forward, releasing ash from his hand.

His eyes were closed as he moved, and I followed behind him slowly. So far it was working. As he grew closer to the beginning the ash was still falling from his hand. I couldn't believe my eyes.

When we got to the end, I stood there in amazement as Stiles dusted his hands off in disappointment. He thought it didn't work. I tapped his shoulder, before pointing to the ground with a smile.

Stiles' line of vision fell to the ground, and his face split into a grin. He looked from one end of the building to the other, laughing. "Yes!" He shouted, putting his arms around me and lifting me off the ground, spinning us both excitedly.

I squealed a little, the noise turning to laughter as I put my hands on his shoulders. After a moment, Stiles put me down, Before throwing his fist into the air, still amazed that it had worked.

"Alright, let's move to step two," Stiles grinned, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the entrance to the warehouse.

♡♢♤♧

We arrived at the door where we agreed to meet Erica and Isaac. If things had went to plan, then Jackson should have also been in there with them.

Swinging the door open, Stiles and I entered the room. As soon as they had heard a sound, Erica and Isaac had leapt to action, prepared to attack.

"No, no, no!" Stiles shouted, throwing one hand up in front of himself, and the other to keep me back. I couldn't help feel a small flutter in my stomach. He was protecting me.

Of course he was protecting me. He was my friend.

Stiles took a breath,"Just us, it's just us. Don't freak."

Erica lowered her claws, taking a step away. Stiles stepped further into the room, allowing me to pull the door shut behind us. 

"Is he okay?" Stiles asked. I turned away from the door, to see Jackson sitting on a chair passed out. What worried me the most, was the fact that he wasn't tied down. I know they had used ketamine on him, but how sure could we possibly be?

Isaac walked towards the docile teenager, slightly nervous. "Well, let's find out." He extended his claws, before arching his arm and then swinging towards the boy's face.

Before he could even come into the vicinity of Jackson's personal bubble, he had snapped up a hand and grabbed Issac by the wrist. I couldn't help but involuntarily yell his name, worried for his safety. Jackson twisted, forcing Isaac to the ground as he dug his claws into the boy's wrist.

Breaking free of my stupor, I rushed forward and grabbed his free arm. I was about to attempt to pull him away, until the other boy had just let him go. Isaac groaned in pain as he quickly climbed back to his feet. I dragged him away from Jackson and back over to the other two.

Stiles looked worried, and Erica looked terrified. Their faces weren't exactly inspiring any confidence in this matter.

"Are you okay?" I whispered, still holding Isaac's arm. He shook his head, breathing heavily. I lightly took hold of the wrist Jackson had grabbed. He winced, which caused me to also.

I noticed Stiles eyes linger on my hands for the slightest second, before he turned back to Jackson. "Okay, no one does anything like that again, okay?"

Isaac looked up from his wrist, eyes wide with shock still from being attacked. "I thought the ketamine was supposed to put him out."

"Deaton uses it on animals," I thought out loud. "Maybe it's not as similar for the supernatural as he had originally thought."

Stiles nodded, "So, apparently this is all we're going to get. So let's just hope that whoever's controlling him just decided to show up tonight.

"They have to," I mumbled.

I was about to ask Isaac if he was healing, when a voice interrupted me. The only thing was, it didn't sound like anyone in that room.
"I'm here," it said, sounding as if it were echoing.

We all turned, to see Jackson's head lolled to the side and his eyes open, staring at us. "I'm right here with you."

We all stood, staring, not knowing what to do.

"Well," I sighed, deciding that the silence was making me uncomfortable, "That's new."

After a few moments more, Stiles decided to take one for the team. Kneeling down in front of the chair, he bit his cheek. "Jackson, is that you?"

"Us," the voice replied. "We're all here."

No; that wasn't creepy at all.

Stiles peered at me over his shoulder, pursing his lips. He looked concerned. I didn't blame him; this wasn't even close to normal. He swivelled back to Jackson, "Are you the one killing people?"

"We are the ones killing murderers," the voice growled. It sounded frustrated, like it didn't think we were listening. Trust me, we were listening.

The boy with the buzzcut took a second to compose himself. "So all the people you've killed so far. . ."

Stiles trailed off, allowing the voice to complete his sentence."Deserved it." His words seemed so final, as if his opinion was all that mattered.

After hearing his response, my eyes flitted to Isaac. His dad had truly been a horrible man, which I had learnt recently, but had he been a murderer?

"See, we got a little rule book that says you only go after murderers," Stiles explained, keeping his eyes trained on the boy. I don't know how he did it, Jackson seemed very intimidating in this form.

His eyes seemed to be crossed as the stayed focused on the ceiling. What was going on?
"Anything can break if enough pressure's applied," the voice explained.

"So, were they murderers or not? Because I'm really getting tired of your riddles," I exclaimed, stepping forward. Stiles put his hand up to keep me away, just as Isaac grabbed my arm and pulled me back beside him.

Jackson's expression didn't change. "They were all murderers. Each. Every one."

"Well, who did they murder?" Stiles asked. I could hear his voice shaking.

"Me."

"Wait, what?" Stiles shook his head, completely befuddled. As we they rest of us. They had killed him? How was that even possible?
"What do you mean?"

"They murdered me," It growled. Jackson's shoulders had begun to quiver with anger and his head began to move.

Stiles turned to look at us, and Isaac and Erica had taken a step back. We all focused in on Jackson, to see that his eyes had changed, his usual green replaced with those of a reptile.
"They murdered me," he shook, the vein in his forehead prominent.

"I think it's time to go," I whispered.

Stiles finally got to his feet, but there wasn't much we could do. We watched as he revealed a morphed arm, claws protruding from the fingers with venom dripping from each.

This seemed to wake Stiles up, "Okay, all right. More ketamine. The man needs more ketamine. Come one."

"We don't have any more," Isaac stated as he held up an empty bottle.

Stiles' eye twitched as he pursed his lips. "You used the whole bottle?" He accused as he turned to Isaac.

The boy didn't do anything as Stiles snatched the bottle out of his hand. He was about to speak again, when Erica tapped him on the shoulder, pointing back to Jackson in complete silence.

He was on his feet, half transformed into the Kanima. His face looked like it was fighting to stay human, the scales spreading like an infection. It growled at us, before its head began to swing rapidly in all directions.

It looked like something you'd see in a horror movie.

"We've got to go," I whispered beneath my breath. I knew that he couldn't hear me, but I don't think I could bring myself to speak any louder.

Stiles nodded, looking around. "Okay, out, everybody out."

"Go, go, go, go," Isaac said, panic all over his face.

We ran out the door, before quickly slamming it behind us. All of us leaned against it to use our body weight as a sort of door stop. But, we couldn't stand there all night.

"Okay, find something to move in front of the door," Stiles instructed as if he had read my mind.

However, it was for nothing. Before we could even begin to look, Jackson had burst through the metal wall and ran off.

The Kanima was loose.