XXI. | neverland

                  AS FAR AS kisses go, it wasn't awful. Surprising and unplanned, but not terrible. Stiles actually kind of had soft lips. Luckily we weren't embracing for too long - Sarah turned the corner just as I smashed our mouths together, then she jumped back with a surprised, "Oh!"

We pulled apart, Stiles with a red flushed face and me with that stupid sly grin. I turned and looked at Sarah. "Oops," I said, no apology in my voice. "Didn't mean for that to happen."

"Uh-huh," Sarah said. "I-I'm sorry."

"No problem," I said.

She stood there for an extra second, then excused herself, rushing away with her eyes averted. I blew a stream of air from between my teeth and pinched my nose right between my eyes, trying to ward off the headache I felt coming.

"Sorry," I said to Stiles, who'd been dead silent since the kiss. And I actually was. "It was the only thing I could think of."

"Yeah," Stiles said quickly, rubbing a hand over his buzzed head. I watched as he retreated in on himself, shutting down. I couldn't tell if it was annoyance or uncomfortableness. Either way, he was acting twitchy - twitchier than usual. "You know it, uh - I need to go." He sped away, avoiding my eye.

When I was alone in the hallway, I sighed. That had been stupid of me. No, not just stupid. Idiotic. Not only was he was one of my only friends, Stiles Stilinski was the only other normal human in the same situation as me. Us two, with no hunter parents or superhuman abilities. The regular ones needed to stick together, because the minute we were separated, people like Erica and Isaac would swoop in and gut us. Thoughts of me getting gutted by Isaac Lahey made me squirm.

To relax myself, I made my way into the women's restroom and cleaned up my makeup, wiping off my smeared lipstick entirely. The guilt in my chest hadn't eased much. In fact, when I made it back to Sarah's desk just to see that she'd been called out on a disturbance call, panic was close to making me breakdown again.

When I sat down, I couldn't help but glance over to the Sheriff's office. He was there, still chewing on the fries I'd given him. Stiles was sitting in one of the chairs that faced his father's desk. His head was down, and he was staring at his hands. I sighed.

I hoped I hadn't done too much damage.

-

By the time Friday rolled around, I felt a little better. Stiles and I still had some difficulty when talking to each other, but overall, I thought we were working through it. I saw him and Scott in the hallway when I walked into chemistry for last period. They were talking swiftly, under their breath. When I ambled over to their lab bench, they broke apart like they'd been doing something wrong. I laughed.

"What's gotten into you two?" I asked.

Stiles avoided my eye, but Scott answered. "We got tickets for tonight."

"The rave?" I asked. Presley had given me his extra ticket last night. "Yeah, I heard everyone's going."

"Ugh," Stiles groaned, "You sound like Matt."

I furrowed my brows. "You're calling me creepy?"

There wasn't any ill will between us, but I could hear the edge in Stiles's voice. He didn't answer me, instead rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath. I wanted to call him out, ask him what the big deal was. The kiss had been under five seconds, and I'd been moving under pressure. Either ignoring the tension between us, or not caring enough to ask, Scott began talking again.

"We're pretty sure Jackson will be there. This might be our only chance to stop him. We only have two tickets."

"How?" I pondered, ignoring the ticket comment. "Not much you can do when there's that much noise. Hell, you'll be lucky if you can get him alone." Scott cocked his head, and I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on. A guy that looks like Jackson doesn't stand on the outskirts of these things. He'll be in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by people."

Stiles butt in. "We're going to Deaton after school to get help."

"Deaton?" I was getting sick of hearing new names.

"My boss at the vet clinic," Scott explained to me. He laughed when I looked surprised. "Yes, I have a job. Deaton somehow knows about all of...this stuff. He's a valuable resource."

"Sweet," I said. "You guys do that, and I'll be at Allison's getting ready. You have no clue how much fun it is having a girl as a friend. Plus, she's got cute clothes."

Class went by fast, and by the time I made it out to the parking lot, Allison was waiting. She smiled when I jumped in the passenger seat of her sedan, then set off to her house. "When we get there," she said to me as she drove, "I have to go talk to my dad. You can just go upstairs and wait for me there."

"Sure," I agreed, peeking through my eyelashes to get a better look at her. "Is this talk about tonight?" I egged on.

She looked over at me. "Kind of. You know about my dad. He's a hunter, but tonight he's got an entire team ready to get Jackson. That's why we're going - we want to get to him before they do."

I laughed. "You're quite the double agent, Argent."

She smiled a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Once in her room, I began the tidying up process. Curled my hair into waves, put on dark makeup, made sure my eyebrows were even and arched. Allison met me when she was done with her meeting. She looked frazzled, so I sat her down at her desk and touched up her makeup. More than once, her mother walked in, red hair as severe as ever. I made polite conversation where I could, but it was obvious she wasn't too keen on talking to me.

"What are you wearing?" Allison asked me when I was done applying her lipstick.

"Don't know," I said offhandedly.

She spun towards her closet and smiled. "Well, I do."

-

I walked into the party with Allison at my side. She separated with me almost immediately, so I wandered around the edge of the dance floor alone. The warehouse was lit in flashing lights and the ground shook with the heavy base of the electronic music being played. Me teeth chattered as I glanced around for someone I knew. Bodies shook and moved with ease. There was so much energy around me, I almost got sucked in.

I caught sight of Presley in the middle of the chaos, a girl in his arms. She was pretty, dressed similar to me in a sparkly shirt and black skirt. Where her top had a plunging neckline, mine was a simple tank, and where her skirt rode up so far it was borderline underwear, mine floated around my thighs.

Just as I took a step toward them, I felt someone grab my upper arm. I turned, fully expecting to see Isaac or Erica. Instead, I was met with Scott. He looked normal, except his usually kind eyes were alight with a fire. He was mad.

"What's wrong?" I asked over the blaring techno rave music.

"You knew Allison would be here?" He yelled back.

I tried to pull my arm away but her wouldn't let me. "Yes?" I shouted back. "I told you I was getting ready with her!"

He squeezed my arm tighter. "You didn't tell me she'd be here!"

I winced and tried to pull away again. He was squeezing onto me too tight. "I'm sorry!" I yelped. "Please let go, you're hurting me!"

Like I'd surprised him, his eyes went wide. Immediately, my arm was free. "Oh, my god, I'm sorry." He exclaimed. "Are you alright?"

The nod I sent his way was fake. I was actually hurt, rubbing my upper arm with my free hand. The flashing lights around me suddenly felt too bright, and I was getting a headache from the music. "Where's Stiles?" I asked. I didn't mean to come off as rude, but I said it sharply, not waiting for an answer.

"Outside," Scott said. "Quinn, I'm sorry."

But I was already gone, moving my way through the throngs of high schoolers until I found an exit door and slammed through, out in an empty alley. I looked both ways, searching for that familiar buzzcut, but couldn't see Stiles. On the ground at my heeled feet was a line of dark dust that extended both ways and around the corner of the warehouse the rave was being held in. It wasn't supposed to be there - I could tell because it was too straight, and something as odd as a perfect line of dust outside the biggest party of the year had Stiles Stilinski written all over it. I couldn't help the smile that grew on my face. Careful not to disturb the line, I turned on my heel and began following it.

Stiles wasn't too hard to find after that. I followed the line of dust until I saw him, standing about fifty feet from his powder blue Jeep. His left hand was clenched shut, and a dark trash bag was littered on the ground next to his feet, heard to see in the dark of nighttime. Under his breath he was saying obscenities - something I'd never heard him mutter too much.

"Hey, what's wrong?" I asked, walking up behind him.

He startled, turning his head fast enough to potentially break his neck. He didn't relax too much when he saw it was me, though. "What's wrong?" He asked the ground in front of him. "What's wrong is that this," he shook his clenched left hand, "needs to reach that." His free hand pointed to the Jeep, where I could faintly see the beginning of the dust line on the ground.

"This is around the whole building?" I asked him, leaning down to get a better look at it. Up close, the dust was a deep black color, with flecks catching the light of a nearby lamp post. "What is it? What is it for?"

"Mountain ash," he answered. "It acts like a barrier. Once it encloses a space, the supernatural can't get in or out."

I followed what he was saying. "So you're trapping Jackson inside?"

"Only if I can finish the line. Bring it back and connect it over there." Once again he pointed at the start of the line. "I'm almost out though."

"Where's the rest?" I asked, ready to go collect it. "I'll get it for you."

"I have it." He shook his closed hand and my mouth fell open. "One more handful for fifty feet of ground. Deaton said to believe, but we're not in Neverland, if you haven't noticed. I can't just believe it will work if I know it won't." He took in a deep breath and looked back at me. "I called Scott but he's not answering. I've been hearing gunshots, too. Argent gunshots."

I was nodding my head. "Yeah. They're here."

The laugh that fell out of his mouth then was so strained it made my heart hurt. "Great! We've got werewolves, hunters, and a homicidal gecko on the loose."

Without thinking too much I came closer and grabbed his free hand. It was cold and he was shaking. "Hey," I said softly. "Everything will work out. Let's just do this, then figure out our next step, yeah?"

Stiles looked at our hands, now knotted together. A shaky breath left his mouth. He was calming himself down, I realized, so similarly to how I had to calm myself down over the last few weeks. When ready, he closed his eyes and nodded. "Okay. Yeah. Let's do this."

I followed suit, closing my eyes tight and saying, "You just have to believe."

"Just imagine it working."

We walked slowly, my heels echoing on the asphalt beneath our feet. In my head, I imagined the handful of ash spanning fifty feet. It was so easy in my mind, but I knew in real life it would be nearly impossible. Stiles squeezed my hand and I thought harder, making it work in my mind. If it worked there, then as Deaton said, it should work here.

When Stiles ran out of ash, we stopped. He sighed when he opened his eyes, fully expecting it not to have worked. I did too, until I looked down and saw it. The straight, thick, black line of mountain ash. "Stiles," I said, looking at the Jeep to my left and letting go of his hand to throw my arms in the air. "Stiles, you did it!"

Unlike the one from just a few minutes ago, Stiles laughed. A big, surprised laugh that made me smile. In our excitement, we turned to each other and hugged. I squeezed hard, ignoring the pain in my upper arm as Scott's accidental attack made itself known. We giggled in each other's arms like we'd just won the lottery, then peeled away from one another when we caught our senses.

I cleared my throat. "Good job."

He was just as uncomfortable. "You too."