◤ chapter nine: ❛ song of death ❜ ◢

✧

         A GENTLE SHAKING OF HIS SHOULDER SLOWLY CLEARED THE FUZZ OF HIS BRAIN AS HE AWOKE. Peeling his eyelids open, he blinked a few times as awareness crept in, rubbing his eyes and turning to the hand that was shaking him, seeing Scott's face peering at him. He was sure his own face was contorted into one of confusion, especially seeing that in the time he had been asleep the sun had set and no one smelled particularly foul which would suggest that they went to their meet.

"What's going on?" he asked, his voice groggy with sleep. Scott's lips twitched upward into a smile.

"Hey, we're stopping at a motel for tonight," Scott whispered, a gentle motion in the wake of everyone else's loud hustling around the bus, "We gotta get up."

"Oh," he muttered, looking to the aisle, waiting for a clearing before standing up and dragging his feet towards the front before walking off. He rubbed his eyes again when a yawn tore through him, blinking around to see that their group had formed in the middle of everyone's hustle.

Reassured that everyone was there, Cooper looked around to finally notice the motel. It looked, to put it simply, like a dump, and his skin started to crawl already imaging the amount roaches that could be scurrying around in there. Cooper Whittemore was accustomed to clean hotels – never motels – with room service and live entertainment and this was the furthest thing in existence.

"I've seen worse," Scott spoke up beside him. Slowly, he turned to look at the werewolf, an unimpressed look on his face.

"Where have you seen worse?" Stiles asked exasperatedly.

"I'd rather kill myself than sleep here," Cooper deadpanned, watching as Scott's eyes widened at his comment.

"No! Don't – no!" he protested.

"Listen up!" Coach's voice rang, standing in the middle of the different groups formed, "The meet's been pushed 'til tomorrow. This is the closest motel with the most vacancies and the least amount of good judgement when it comes to accepting a bunch of degenerates like yourselves! You'll be pairing up – choose wisely. And I'll have no sexual perversions perpetrated by you little deviants! Got that? Keep your dirty little hands to your dirty little selves!"

"Scott, you with me?" Stiles asked, and Scott nodded. He watched similarly as Isaac took a pair of keys with Boyd, and Allison grabbed a pair for Lydia. Great. The odd one out; that definitely didn't bruise his confidence.

He moved away from the group, looking for anyone else left out, finding nothing until Aiden turned and they made eye contact. "Oh no," he muttered to himself, because of course with his luck this would happen. Aiden walked towards him and while his fight or flight trigger wanted him to turn and just walk back onto the bus, he stood his ground as one-half of the alpha twin duo approached him.

"No partner either?" Aiden asked.

"Wouldn't you rather stay with your brother?" Cooper asked instead of answering, crossing his arms.

Aiden's eyes wandered to where Ethan was, Cooper's trailing after to find Ethan and Danny standing close together. Ouch. Danny would rather hook up with an alpha twin (not that he knew it, but still) rather than talk to him all because his idiot brother fucked off to England. Wonderful.

"Yeah, I don't think I want to get in between that," Aiden voiced, and Cooper sighed.

"Fine. Yeah, I don't have a partner," he relented before jabbing a finger into Aiden's chest, "But tonight is a truce. No harming me and I won't fight back."

Aiden's lips twitched upwards, amusement sparking in his eyes. Still, he agreed. "Truce."

Cooper nodded at that, walking towards Coach to get a set of keys. He started to go back over to Aiden when a hand shot out and grabbed his arm, tugging him backwards and into the chest of whoever grabbed him.

"Fuck," he swore, attempting to regain his balance as the set of hands set to steady him. Finally, he looked back to Scott. "What the fuck?"

"Sorry," the boy looked sheepish, "It's just – do think that's a good idea?"

Scott nodded towards Aiden and Cooper shrugged. "It's not like I have a choice."

The werewolf didn't look pleased by that answer, but what was he supposed to say? He didn't particularly want to room with Aiden given the fact that his pack did kill Derek and harmed Scott, but he didn't exactly have a large amount of options to choose from. This was what he was left with, and it was only one night.

"Besides, we came to an agreement," Cooper continued, "I'll be fine, Scott."

"You should come and hang out at my room for a while," Scott shrugged and Cooper blinked in surprise, "I just – I don't like the thought of you spending more time with him alone than you have to."

Cooper looked back at Aiden, who waved because of course he could hear them talking about him. Stupid enhanced hearing. "Fine, if it'll make you feel better," he agreed, because honestly it wasn't worth the argument, and maybe he too didn't want to spend too much time alone with the alpha.

Still, he walked back over and handed the keys to Aiden. "You better let me in later."

Aiden just winked and walked away, leaving Cooper to go back to Scott and follow him and Stiles to their room. Once in, Scott placed his bag on one bed and Stiles took the other. He stood around awkwardly before finally deciding to just sit on Scott's bed, trying not to think about the cheap quality of the room and the fear that bugs could be crawling around with him knowing.

"Alright, so I have four," Stiles announced, already beginning to pace.

"Four? You have four suspects?" Scott asked. Cooper assumed that this was a continuation of a conversation they were having early, so he didn't object to that, but he did object to the fact that they had just gotten into the room with no time to even settle before Stiles went off ranting.

"Yeah, it was originally ten. Well, nine, technically, I guess – I had Derek on there twice," Stiles confirmed, as if it was perfectly normal to theorize about suspects for who the darach was.

"Is this what you think about all the time?" Cooper interjected, staring curiously at Stiles.

The Stilinski boy didn't even hesitate before nodding. "Yes." Cooper couldn't even begin to an imagine having a brain wired like that, it sounded exhausting to be constantly thinking.

"So, who's number one? Harris?" Scott asked.

Stiles nodded. "Just because he's missing, doesn't mean he's dead."

"Still not good, though," Cooper murmured.

"So, if he's not dead, our chemistry teacher is out secretly committing human sacrifices...?" Scott continued, and Cooper paused to wonder how many people in high school would think to ask a question like that. None. No one would think to ask it because no one had to, except for Beacon Hills High residents, because of course they did.

"Yeah, I guess that just sounded way better in my head," Stiles nodded, accepting the implied criticism Scott gave him.

"Well, what if it's someone else from school? Like, you remember Matt? We didn't know that he was killing people..."

Fucking Matt. Cooper's blood began to boil at the mention of the boy and how he forced Jackson in his kanima form to murder people all for his selfish revenge.

"Excuse me?" Stiles asked, appalled, "I'm sorry, what? I – yes, we did! I called that from day one, actually."

"Yeah, but we never really thought that it was Matt..."

Stiles scoffed. "I was serious! I was quite serious, actually! Deadly serious! No one listened to me!"

"Who were the other three?" Scott moved on abruptly, and Cooper snickered at the effort.

Stiles didn't seem too put off by it, rolling on with the other potential suspects. "Derek's sister, Cora – no one knows anything about her, and she's Derek's sister. Next, your boss."

"My boss?" Scott interrupted, surprised.

"Yeah, your boss. I don't really like the whole Obi-Wan-thing he's got going on, you know? It freaks me out," Stiles explained, and at Scott's confusion to his allusion paused, "Oh my God! Have you still not seen Star Wars?"

"I swear, if we make it back alive, I will watch the movie," Scott attempted to placate Stiles.

"It just makes me crazy..." Stiles shook his head.

"About the whole Deaton thing, is your only reasoning because he's like Obi-Wan?" Cooper asked, "Because, like, I can get behind everyone else. Harris did have darach spelled out on his papers and Cora randomly popping up out of nowhere is suspicious, but Deaton...? It seems like you don't have a lot to go on."

"It just feels like he knows more than he's letting on," Stiles said, "I don't know – I just – I don't trust him."

"Do you think you just have trust issues?" Cooper asked again. At the unimpressed glare from Stiles, he raised his hands up in mock surrender.

"Who was the last one?" Scott asked, breaking him out of the staring contest.

Stiles' eyes traveled to Scott's and he sighed. "Lydia," he admitted, his tone with hints of guilt for even suggesting it, "She was totally controlled by Peter, and she had no idea, so..."

"So another supernatural creature might be manipulating her into sacrificing people?" Cooper finished the thought with an air of skepticism. Unfortunately, as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't completely rule it out.

He wished he still lived a life where something like this was absurd and fictional, but his reality was changing. Jackson had been controlled by a loser teenager who wanted revenge for fuck's sake! So Lydia also being controlled by a supernatural being into sacrifices wasn't completely out of the question.

"Maybe," Stiles nodded, "I don't know."

Cooper groaned. Fuck his life, honestly. Scott at least offered a small smile of support as Cooper collapsed onto his bed. A few moments of silence passed, just sounds of Stiles bustling around the room before he announced that he was going to get some snacks.

Scott got up from his bed and went to the bathroom, Cooper watching him idly before getting out his phone and browsing Instagram until he heard something fall.

"Scott?" he asked in alarm, waiting for a response but finding nothing. Pulling himself up, he knocked on the bathroom door, "Scott?"

The door was pulled open and Scott stared at him wide eyed like something had spooked him. "Are you okay?"

"My eyes," Scott muttered, turning back to the mirror. "I was – I was looking in the mirror and my eyes flashed red."

"Calm down," Cooper reached forward, placing an arm on Scott, channeling a bit of siren energy into his words, watching as Scott didn't fight being relaxed. "Flash your eyes again."

The werewolf did. Yellow.

"See? They're not red."

"But I could've sworn they were," Scott shook his head, face contorted in confusion.

"How about you take a shower and calm down?" he suggested, looking around before swearing, "What kinda motel doesn't have any towels? I'll go get some, just hop in the shower."

Scott nodded, but he looked disconnected. Cooper gave him one more weary look before leaving the room, going down the lobby, about to enter when Lydia turned the corner.

"Hey," he greeted, waving, "What do you need from here?"

"New towels, ours smell like nicotine," Lydia told him, "You?"

"Towels, too," he nodded, holding the door for her to go inside first.

Lydia approached the counter first so he waited behind her. "Excuse me? The card on the dresser says we have a non-smoking room, but somehow all our towels reek of nicotine," Lydia told the receptionist.

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," the woman apologized.

"Can I also get some towels?" Cooper pipped up and she nodded before going into the back before returning with the towels.

Lydia took half before handing Cooper the rest, though her gaze was towards something behind the counter. "What's that? That number?" she asked and Cooper looked to where she was pointing, frowning when he noticed it.

"It's kind of an inside thing for the motel. My husband insists on keeping it up," the receptionist told them.

"What do you mean?" Lydia frowned.

"It's a little morbid, to be honest...you sure you want to know?"

Lydia nodded. "Tell me."

"We're not gonna make the top of anyone's list when it comes to customer satisfaction..."

"Obviously," Lydia scoffed.

"But we are number one in California when it comes to one disturbing little detail – since opening, more than any other motel in California, we have the most guest suicides."

Cooper's mind froze for a second. "What?" he managed to get out, because why the hell would you have a number proclaiming it out into the world and why would you be proud of it?

"One hundred and ninety-eight?" Lydia read the number aloud.

"And counting!" the woman cackled. Cooper and Lydia shared a look, bidding goodbye to the receptionist and walking out.

"Are you getting the feeling that something's off about this place?" Lydia asked him.

"I am now," he agreed.

His stomach filled with dread at the thought of spending any more time at the motel, the new knowledge of how deadly it was weighing heavily on his stomach. As he slowly whistled, tuning into the alluring side of himself, he felt the song of death sweeping the grounds in a softly violent jazz.

authors note.
hi babes,, i'm reuploading this chapter because i forgot to add the authors note i meant to yesterday. so i'm currently fighting the urge to post an isaac lahey, HOWEVER i want to know from you guys first. if i post an isaac lahey fic will you guys be interested and read it???

it'll be set in season two and the main character is named margo hale (yes she is the younger sister of derek, i know it's cliche but i do love sibling fics i can't help myself xx)

thank you to everyone who responds!!