𝟐𝟕 𝒄𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒈𝒖𝒕𝒔

✯☾✯

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒂 𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒎, 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒑𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒄 as she fought against the torrent of tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Her attempts to hold back the emotions seemed to stretch on endlessly, her struggle evident in the heaviness that weighed upon her.

Noah Stilinski, seemingly Matt's biggest threat at the moment, had been shepherded out the office, cuffed and restrained to a wall outside one of the cells after his attempt to plead with the troubled manic who now held three teens at gun point in a compressed, dark room.

The trio were shaken up as they'd caught a glimpse of Matt's wrath, a hallway of multiple bloodied police officers, stomachs torn and crimson red seeping down their chests.

Paper crackled as it was shred on demand in a grinding machine. All the evidence, every single thing that could be used against Matt was being obliterated into tiny, illegible pieces. A final key clicked a few feet away from the shredder as Stiles deleted the last of the video files.

"Deleted," Stiles spoke quietly to avoid a rile up. "And, we're done. Alright, so, Matt, since all the people you brutally murdered it deserved it killed you first, whatever that means, we're good here, right?"

Yet, no matter how hushed the Stilinski boy's tones were, that didn't stop him poking fun and referencing to Matt's confusing confession he, his father and Scott had been on the end of earlier.

"I'll just get my dad and we'll go, you know, you continue on the whole vengeance thing. Enjoy the kanima."

With a tight smile, Matt sat up straighter in his seat, the sleek gun still aimed at the teens, but, he didn't get a chance to counter Stiles' reasoning as the attention was diverted to a vehicle approaching outside.

"Sounds like your mom's here, McCall."

In the mist of everything that had been happening, Matt had confiscated each and every device in the precinct so, therefore, Melissa McCall had not been contacted nor warned to abandon her journey here.

"Matt, don't do this." Scott pleaded, his voice wavering. "When she comes to the door, I'll just tell her to leave. I'll tell her we didn't find anything. Please, Matt."

A door creaked open not far away, alerting Scott, Stiles and Lizzie more.

A dry chuckle slipped Matt's lips as he stood up tauntingly slowly. "If you don't move," He edged across the room to where Lizzie stood rigidly. "I'm gonna put a bullet through her skull."

Lizzie closed her eyes as she felt the cold butt of the gun pressed harshly against her forehead, a sickening feeling spread throughout her.

Scott faltered, visibly wincing when he caught Lizzie shaking her head at him, telling him not to do it and that 'she'd be fine'. But, he couldn't risk loosing her, he couldn't risk loosing anyone. So, he gave in.

All four of them walked slowly in a line, Lizzie slightly ahead, the gun having parted with her forehead to reattach itself to the back of her head.

Matt added a little force, pushing her forward slightly.

Being held at gunpoint evoked intense fear, vulnerability.  A heightened sense of danger. Lizzie's heart was racing, adrenaline surged through her body. She tried her very best to asses the situation and determine the best the best course of action.

The presence of the lethal weapon and direct threat to her friends' lives created overwhelming terror and uncertainty to bubble up inside her.

"Open it." Matt spoke sternly, his brows furrowed, eyes hardened from his past.

"Please." Scott pleaded once again.

"Open the door," Matt repeated and when Scott stood rigid, the kanima master shook his head. "Open the door or little miss sunshine over here is gonna die."

Taking a deep breath in for as long as he could push, Scott extended a shaky arm, meeting the brass doorknob and turned it. Stiles and Lizzie, who had evidently shuffled closer to each other, drew in a collective breath.

"Oh, thank god!"

Behind the door stood the two no one was expecting. A sourly looking man and a boy a couple of inches taller than him. Derek had his gaze set on the ground as if he was trying to steady himself and Isaac blinked emptily into nothingness.

Something was wrong.

The two wolves toppled forward and hit the ground unmoving and stiff, revealing Jackson, features mangled with the kanimas', satisfied with his work.

Resting his hands on his knees, Matt bent down over the paralysed Derek and Isaac, tilting his head teasingly and removing the gun from Lizzie's head in doing so. The relieved girl was quick to slot in between Scott and Stiles, where she felt safest.

"This is the one controlling him?" Derek asked patronisingly, keeping up his tough nature despite his uncomfortable position on the ground. "This kid?"

The vein in Matt's head visibly strained as he seethed, "Well, Derek, not everyone's lucky enough to be a big, bad werewolf."

Matt straightened and as he did, Stiles and Scott stepped closer to each other, becoming Lizzie's personal shields.

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Matt continued, a concerning glint in his eyes "I've learned a few things lately. Werewolves, hunters, kanimas. It's like a frickin' Halloween party every full moon."

Matt turned to Lizzie and Stiles, gesturing between them. "Except for you two. What do you guys turn into?"

"Abominable Snowmen. But, uh, it's more of, like a wintertime thing, you know seasonal." Stiles sassed, refusing to show weakness, especially in front of someone like Matt Daehler.

His smart comment was punished though as Matt nodded his head at Jackson, allowing the kanima to swipe his claw across the back of Stiles' neck, paralysing him too and sending down with a string of a curses and a thump.

Derek, however, cushioned his fall, much to his disgust.

"So, Lizzie, we've got wolves, kanimas and humans. Where do you fit into all this?" Matt took a dangerous step towards the girl, flailing his gun around as he spoke. "I mean, you must do something."

The closer Matt got, the more Lizzie panicked. The lights began to flicker, buzzing and hissing.

Matt's mouth formed into an 'O' shape, "Was that you? I think it was. What else can you do, huh?"

"There's been alot of power cuts lately. I'm sure it was just that." Lizzie quietly offered.

He became more agitated when Lizzie didn't reply the way he wanted. "Not gonna give me a proper answer? That's fine, I'm pretty sure I've figure it out anyway."

The sadistic boy's gaze flickered around the room until it landed on pen that lay on one of the shelves. He darted forward to grab it before grinning at Lizzie one more time and then rammed it down into his arm as hard as he could.

He let out a poorly concealed yell as he tried to compose himself, ripping the pen out of his skin. Lizzie stared with wide, unnerved eyes at Matt.

"Go one," He thrust his arm out. "Do your thing."

"Hey, do you like Taylor Swift?" A weak distraction but one Lizzie braved anyway. She was met with a cold glare.

She moved forward unsurely as she softly laid her hands on his arm. Matt, clearly impatient raised his gun again and returned it to her forehead.

"Hey!" A shout came from below. Isaac. "I'll fucking kill you."

Matt rolled his eyes tiredly. "Calm down, Lahey. You should show me some respect. Man, i killed your dad for you."

Trying to get this over with, Lizzie closed her eyes, her finger tips emitting the glowing purple as it transferred from her hands and up the veins of Matt's arm, knitting the wound back together.

Humming satisfactorily, Matt smiled at the shorter girl. He used the gun to brush a few strands of hair from her head. "There you go, I'll be needing you help again soon, but for now-"

It was as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice over her, Lizzie felt a cool chill trickle around her body as the back of neck was sliced. She wobbled on the balls of her feet before joining the other three on the floor.

The sound of a second vehicle approaching forced Scott, the only teen left standing, into a state of fear.

"Is that her?", exclaimed Matt, as if it was a shock. "Do what I tell you to and I won't hurt her. I won't even let Jackson near her."

"Scott, don't trust him." Stiles wheezed out weakly.

Matt lost his patience. He grabbed Stiles by his blue flannel and rolled him over, slamming his foot on his throat and holding it there.

"Stiles!" Lizzie cried out, the first time she'd spoken out of turn, as Stiles lay there gagging and gasping for breath, unable to move.

"This work better for you?" Matt spat at Scott, applying more pressure.

"Hey! Just stop, stop." Scott tried to make eye contact with Matt with his plead but as he had been doing all night, Matt avoided it, staring at his nose or forehead.

"Then do what I tell you to!"

"Okay," Scott agreed, waiting for Matt to remove his foot. "Stop!"

Matt finally did so, Lizzie closed her eyes in minor relief, she heard the coughs and splutters of Stiles attempting to get his breath back.

"You, take them in there," Jackson nodded steadily at his master. His round pupils had been replaced with dark slits, cold and empty. "You, with me."

One by one, the four paralysed people were dragged from room to room, rather clumsily, and set in a line. Isaac, Lizzie, Stiles, Derek. Each completely motionless, each with a growing pit in their stomach and each flinching when the ringing of the gunshot was sounded, followed by shouting and screaming.

They were completely helpless, laying there, unable to do anything. It was infuriating.

"Stiles," Lizzie pushed herself to whisper. Her voice was barley audible as she was attempting to speak without Jackson, who loomed over them, hearing. The dryness of her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, swallowing becoming a hard task. "I think I can heal y-you."

"What?" Stiles murmured into the silence.

"I can." Lizzie said again. Stiles felt something cold touch his hand and then... warmth. Just like he felt when they were trialling Lizzie's powers at Scott's work.

It only lasted a second though as the sound of Lizzie's breath hitched in her throat. Stuttering, ugly gasps escaped her throat as Jackson curled his clawed hand around her throat, the scales rough against her skin.

Shouts came from either side of her. First from Isaac and then from Stiles and Derek.

But, Jackson only released her after a strangled, "Okay, I'm sorry, I'll stop. Ow.", from Lizzie.

It wasn't long before Scott was pushed back into the room, Matt hot on his heels.

"The evidence is gone. Why don't you just go?" Scott repeated the same plea that had been re-run over and over again this evening.

"You think the evidence mattered that much, huh?" Matt snarled incredulously. Sweat had collected on his forehead, his cool and calm demeanour was slowly disappearing as time went on. "No, no, I want the girl and the book."

"What? What girl? What book?" Scott asked exasperatedly.

"The bestiary," Matt raised his voice like it was obvious. "And not just a few pages. I want the entire thing."

Shrugging desperately, Scott argued. "I don't have it. It's Gerard's. What do you want it for, anyway?"

"I need answers,", said Matt, impatiently.

"Answers to what?"

Debating, Matt locked eyes with Scott for a spilt second before lifting the bottom of his shirt, revealing a plethora of scales dotted across his side. "To this,"

"A- and the girl," Matt pushed on, shakily. "Lizzie- she healed me earlier so maybe, maybe she can fix this!"

✯☾✯

The four paralysed lay in silence as Derek and Isaac tried their best to trigger their healing process after Stiles had basically decided they were all going to die.

Matt had left with Scott in his clutches again, leaving Jackson to watch over Stiles, Lizzie, Isaac and Derek again.

The alpha werewolf worked slowly and quietly so's the plan didn't end up like Lizzie's did earlier.

Only, it was supposed to be quiet. The faint humming of Lizzie could be heard as she tried to calm herself.

"Shut her up," Derek hissed through gritted teeth at Stiles.

Stiles rolled his eyes, the only things he could move, "Lizzie, hey, tiny,"

The humming stopped.

"Thank you," Stiles murmured and silence took control once more. "So, is that hypothetical situation we talked about getting any less hypothetical?"

"I think so, I can move my toes." Derek strained a reply. "Isaac?"

"These jeans are new, you know? Now, there's frickin' blood all over them." Was Isaac's gruff reply.

However, he was starting to gain feeling in smaller parts of his body. His fingers were first and they were immediately put to use, looping around Lizzie's.

"Dude, I can move my toes," Stiles suddenly sighed, clearly fed up and tired.

"Me too!" Lizzie whisper yelled. "I can wiggle them!"

Slowly but surely, the paralysation was waring off, muscles began to untense and slight movement could be made.

None of the group had any time to celebrate as an ear-splitting alarm went off somewhere in the building and the lights flashed, entering them into periods of darkness.

"I swear that's not me!" Lizzie clarified, using the new found movement in her neck to twist from side to side.

Then, a new sound overcame the alarm.

Gunfire shattered the surroundings, Lizzie's body jolted instinctively. Her eyes widened, capturing the fear and uncertainty that flooded her senses. The world seemed to momentarily freeze as her attention fixated on the source of the commotion.

Fear and urgency wrestled within her, intertwining with a steely determination as she attempted to force her body into action. It looked like the other three had the same idea as they were soon pulling each other up into a wobbly stance.

As an unknown cloud of smoke enveloped the surroundings, obscuring visibility and filling the air with an acid scent, Lizzie found herself slightly disoriented.

Lost.

Until she wasn't.

She was yanked out rather forcefully and her fingers intertwined with another set.

Isaac tugged the pixie with him. He needed to get her out of there. Fast.

The station flew by in bleary, grey colours as two figures raced through it hand in hand.

And then, cold, crisp air was blown into their faces, refreshing and dosed with some sort of safety.

Isaac and Lizzie, still attached by the hand, drew in deep, collective breaths as their heartbeats slowed down.

The boy was quick to snap out of whatever state of recovery he was in and set his mind straight on the only thing that, in his opinion, mattered.

To his surprise, when Isaac jumped quickly in front of Lizzie, he noticed a faint smile on her bewildered face and the familiar sounds of hushed giggles escaping her lips.

The sickeningly familiar feeling of panic was bubbling up inside her. But, she couldn't break in front of Isaac. Not again. So, she pushed it back down again, reaching for her coping mechanisms and replacing the overstimulation with laughter.

"A-are you okay?" Isaac spoke unsurely, reaching his arms out to rest on Lizzie's shoulder before becoming nervous and yanking them back.

Lizzie rested her dainty fingers on her bottom lip to conceal her slight grin. "Yeah- yeah, of course,"

A beat.

"Thank you for coming. You know, to help us. It was stupid though, you could've got hurt."

Isaac shook his head, rejecting the gratitude. "Could've got hurt? I was stuck on the floor. I couldn't move, I was useless. I was useless to you Lizzie."

Stopping, he ran a hand through his curly hair. "God, I was so worried."

"You were worried?" Lizzie asked softly.

"Of course I was worried. You had a gun to your head. Do you know how scary that is?" Isaac's voice had risen. He was angry. He was actually mad because Lizzie was in danger.

He cared.

"You're cute." Was what the shorter girl had responded with to the mini rant.

Isaac stilled, his heart aching to give way. "What?"

For someone who just said something so bold, so impulsive, Lizzie sure had gone shy. "I- I said you look like a boot."

"A boot?" Isaac question, a smile tugging at his lips as Lizzie giggled at his reaction.

Laughter began anew, bubbling up uncontrollably as they revelled in the sheer delight of each other's presence. It was a laughter that transcended words, communicating their shared relief and the deep connection they had forged. The world around them faded into the background as their laughter became a symphony of love and delight.

✯☾✯

"You know, when you're drowning, you don't actually inhale until right before you black out. It's called "voluntary apnea." It's, like, no matter how much you're freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won't open your mouth until you feel like your head's exploding. But then, when you finally do let it in... that's when it stops hurting. It's not scary anymore. It's-it's actually kind of peaceful."

It had been a couple of days since the situation at the sheriff's station and most had had time to recover and, in some cases, reflect on what had happened.

Matt was dead. Police found his body floating down stream, pale and cold at the touch. No one knew how or when it happened. They just knew he was gone. Dead. And he was never coming back.

By now the story of his life had gotten out, occupying the brains of gossipers and the pages of newspapers, yet not a single soul had heard an eye-witness report.

So, no one knew what actually happened. Just the stories.

But, five teenagers did know, and some were dealing better than others.

"Are you saying you hope Matt felt some peace in his last moments?" Miss Marin asked as she carefully surveyed Stiles Stilinski who sat, picking at his lacrosse stick across the table from her.

"I don't feel sorry for him." Stiles said quickly, slightly shifting against the itchy fabric of his seat.

Marin clasped her hands together delicately. "Can you feel sorry for the nine year old Matt who drowned?"

Stiles half scoffed, his response became, what some what call, insensitive. "Just because a couple of dumbasses dragged him into a pool when he couldn't swim, doesn't really give him the right to go off killing them one by one."

Stiles, however, wouldn't call it insensitive at all. After the many cruel things Matt had done or was planning to do, he didn't really see a problem with the fact that his life had come to an end. The world had been rid of one more sadist.

"And, by the way, my dad told me that they found a bunch of pictures of Allison on Matt's computer. And not just of her, though. I mean, he Photoshopped himself into these pictures-- stuff like them holding hands, and kissing... You know, like, he had built this whole fake relationship. So, yeah, maybe drowning when he was nine years old was what sent him off the rails, but the dude was definitely riding the crazy-train."

"One positive thing came out of this, though. Right?" Marin optimised. She was right, of course. Stiles' father had been reinstated as the Sheriff of Beacon Hills which left the county in perfectly reliable hands again.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed uncertainly. "Yeah, but I still feel like there's something wrong between us. I don't know. It's just, like, tension when we talk. Same thing with Scott."

"Have you talked to him since that night?" Marin delved further, narrowing her eyes in a curious manner rather than a hostile one.

"No, not really," Stiles tugged on the string of his lacrosse stick a second time. "I mean, he's got his own problems to deal with though."

"I don't think he's talked to Allison either," He recounted. "But, I guess it brought her and her dad closer."

The Argents had been framed by the media as the saviours of the whole event. The 16 year old girl and her father and grandfather, heroes of Beacon Hills. Yet, in some stories, heroes often fall off the edge, they often swap sides.

"And Jackson?"

"Jackson?" Stiles took a little time to figure how he would go about this. "Jackson hasn't really been himself lately."

Marin hummed, seemingly satisfied on those particular subjects. "So, what about you Stiles? You say everyone's been off doing their own thing. Their busy. Which leaves you on your own?"

Stiles shook his head. "I'm not on my own. I have Lizzie."

"Lizzie Brown? She was there that night too, right?" Marin pushed for clarification and explanation.

"She was there," Stiles responded, "Isaac Lahey got her out pretty quickly, thank god. She was panicking I could tell, even though she'd tried to put on a brave face like always. She panics a lot actually,"

Stiles chuckled: monotone. "I was shitting myself in there. I was so scared she'd say the wrong thing and get herself hurt. She doesn't understand things like social cues and she can't really read the room."

Marin nodded knowingly, "And were you scared everything was too much for her, like she was going to panic and get, uh, overwhelmed?"

A look of surprised dawned on Stiles' face, was she guessing all this?

Continuing, Marin brought her hands up and rested them on the wooden table. "You seem to think very highly of Lizzie. Do you have feelings for her?"

It took a second for Stiles to realise what the woman was hinting at. "Oh! Oh! No, no, God no, It's not like that. Lizzie's my best friend. Hell, she's like my daughter because man, I act like her parent. But, no. Lizzie is my best friend in the whole world. She's been there for me in many ways Scott hasn't these past few months and although Scott's been going through a rough time, I've been feeling sort of lonely. Left out. And, Lizzie, even though she probably doesn't realize, has just been there"

Smiling, Marin remembered the previous year when Lizzie would have been sat in Stiles' exact seat once a week. And, she would cry and laugh and chat with her about everything going on in her life. She remembered how alone the girl was before. But, now, she had someone who though so highly of her.

Someone who would always be there.

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╮
hey hey hey hey <33
this isn't the best but i sort of sped wrote the last half because i had to redo it.
but, i hope you like it.
one thing i acc realised is i can never find any good gifs to start these chapters.
anywayssss i hope you guys liked the chapter. lizzie and isaac or so close, SO CLOSE!
please remember to vote and comment (last chapt had like none 😀🔫)

thanks for reading <3