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THIRTY THREE.

Sage walked into Stiles' room, him following behind. Despite having a mission, something they were supposed to be urgently doing, their footsteps seemed to be dragging. Having received the visual confirmation that Matt Daehler was, in fact, the Kanima's controller, they just had to convince Stiles' dad that he was also the one behind all of the killings in town. Not only because Matt could be doing that at this very moment, but because it would get John his job back. She couldn't stand knowing that everything was slipping through his fingers at this point, having lost nearly everything good in his life apart from Stiles.

The two weren't as motivated as they could have been, mostly because of the punch they consumed at the party. Both had hallucinations that scarred their minds mentally, one of them more emotionally while the other more psychologically. Stiles didn't know what to say after imagining what his father said to him at the party, if he could even believe for a second that what was shouted isn't true. The whole time in his jeep, it was completely silent between them; any time silence was created upon the couple, it was either because they were in a fight or because there was no words to express how they felt. It was the latter this time.

Sage dropped down onto Stiles' bed, silent as she kicked off her white converse. Stiles stared at her for a moment, his eyes moving from her tangled and messy hair to her black and smeared make up. It always brought a sick feeling to his stomach to see her like this, completely empty and without a fight. It wasn't the Sage he knew, the blonde that always knew how to push his buttons. This girl, this Sage, wasn't his. He ran a hand through his scalp, and shook his head before moving towards his closet. His supply of hoodies were dwindling by the days, and he was down to his very last few. Throwing one her way, it fell halfway onto her lap. He watched as her fingers curled into the fabric, then cleared her throat before looking up at him.

"I'm going to go try and clean my mess of a face," She muttered, going to stand up. Stiles nodded, and she went to pass by him, but stopped abruptly. He turned to look at her in question when she embraced him in a hug, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. He hesitated, his chest pressing against her's as she clung to him. Slowly, his hands crept around her waist and he was squeezing her back. They hugged at the party, but that was for his comfort. This one was for her, and it brought a lump to Stiles' throat as he wondered who, or what, she saw when she was under the wolfsbane punch.

"Sage?" He mumbled into her shoulder, in which she hummed out a small response. He only held her tighter as he said, "It wasn't real. None of it." He felt her nod into his neck then pull away, sending him a reassuring smile as she breathlessly laughed, rubbing at her cheeks. He brought his fingers up and ran them under her eyes, trying to get the black smudges and dried tears off her face. "You look like shit."

"Yeah, well. So do you," Sage retorted. He laughed, and kissed her forehead before letting her trudge off to the bathroom. She nearly tripped on the carpet as she went, still not completely stable after drinking so much. When she got into the bathroom, she pulled one of the cloths hanging from the rack and turned the water on. It wasn't like her to let something affect her this long. When something happened to her, she was able to discard her feelings immediately after it happened. This wasn't her. She shook her head, and scrubbed at her face, trying to get rid of the dark makeup.

Aiden was her very first boyfriend, and the only reason she felt so deeply for Allison. She knew what it was like to date a werewolf, more importantly, one with anger issues. The only difference between Aiden and Scott is that one of them protects and one of them kills. That was the main reason the whole relationship crumbled to the ground. Like she had told Melissa on the night of formal, Aiden was not, and never will be, a good guy. The idea of him coming back into her life scared her more than Matt being the Kanima's controller did because if he did, it would be for a bigger reason than just missing her. As far as she was concerned, he didn't even know she lives in Beacon Hills.

When there was another two pair of footsteps out in the hallway, Sage turned off the water, pulled on the hoodie, and tugged her hair up into a ponytail. She looked better than she did before, the only issue being that you could barely tell she was even wearing a dress. Walking into Stiles room, she saw Scott had finally arrived, having wanted to circle around the neighborhood to see if he could find Matt or Jackson (which he obviously didn't), and Stiles' dad was also present. Both turned their heads when she walked into the room, and she gave a small wave before walking over to Stiles who was flipping through a yearbook. When he got to the end of the C's, Sage stopped his wrist before he could flip again, pointing towards Matt's picture.

"What's all of this about?" Stiles' dad asked, looking in between the three teenagers. Stiles seemed to recuperate from the events earlier, now more focused on the matter at hand and that matter being making sure Matt didn't get away with what he was doing. "Stiles? Seriously, what's going on? Scott? Sage? Any of you?"

Stiles shook his head as if he didn't have enough time to explain. Without looking up from Matt's picture, his fingers outstretched to find a sharpie, one in which just so happened to be red. His mouth was used as a cap opener, and Stiles spit out the cap onto his desk before moving towards the yearbook. Sage and Scott watched in confusion as he started making scribbles all throughout the yearbook, from marking out all of the teenagers not named Matt with X's to circling the picture of the culprit himself about fifty times before directing an arrow near his name.

"Was that really necessary?" Sage asked, looking over at him. He shot her a look and she raised her hands in surrender before turning towards Papa Stilinski who looked even more confused now that his son turned the yearbook into an art project made by a three year old.

Stiles turned to his dad and tapped on Matt's face a few times. "We know who's been killing everyone in town."

"Stiles, you've got to stop-"

"No, just listen. You've got to listen, that's him. I swear to god, that's him," Stiles stressed to his father, trying to get him to understand. His dad pursed his lips before stepping forward to glance at the yearbook, more importantly to the supposed killer. Sage watched, hoping that he believed them. If they couldn't convince one person, then they definitely weren't going to be able to convince anyone.

John frowned before leaning forward towards the picture. "You're telling me that this kid is the real killer?"

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, looking up at Scott and Sage who were practically lurking over him as he sat in the chair at his desk. Scott's arms were crossed tightly over his chest, and Sage was fumbling around with the sleeves of the hoodie out of pure nerves.

"No."

Stiles turned to look at his dad in surprise. "Yes."

"No."

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed, continuing to dismiss his dad. Papa Stilinski shook his head, and Stiles flung out of his chair to stand up to his dad's height. Sage's shoulders tightened, and she felt a hand fall on her shoulder in assurance. She glanced over to see it was Scott and gave a small smile. "Dad, everybody knows that police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So, all you need to do is look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the rave promote girl, Kara, wasn't in Harris' class," His dad answered, trying to find every possible way to dismiss the idea of a sixteen year old boy being behind all of the murders in the town.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry," Stiles apologized, although it was more sarcastic than anything. "So, I guess they dropped the charged against him?" He wondered, raising his eyebrows as he asked his dad.

His dad exhaled as he caught on that his son had caught him. Shifting uncomfortably, he shook his head. "No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges against him, but that doesn't prove anything." Stiles' eyes widened at his father's refusal to accept the idea and went to speak only to be cut short as his dad glanced over at Sage and Scott. "Do you two believe this?"

They both nodded their heads, Sage speaking up, "It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just have to trust us. We know that it's Matt, it has to be, just believe us."

"Look, he took Harris' car, okay? He knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders and that if enough of the victims were in Harris' class, they'd arrest him," Stiles evaluated, trying to explain to his father everything they managed to find after seeing Matt with the Kanima wrapped on his leg. Sage prayed that he was beginning to understand what was going on and the actual seriousness of it.

Stiles' dad groaned, as if he were in complete disbelief that he was even considering believing them. "Alright. Fine, I'll allow the remote possibility of that but give me a motive. Why would this kid want most of the two-thousand-six swim team and it's coach dead?"

All three teenagers hesitated. They weren't exactly sure why Matt had such a vengeance out for the swim team, or why he killed the mechanic and all of those other people. They didn't know anything except that Matt Daehler was definitely the Kanima's master and he wasn't going to stop killing people until every last one of the 2006 swim team was dead with their blood on Jackson's hands. They couldn't exactly tell his dad that though, especially with him not in the know about the supernatural in Beacon Hills.

"Isn't it obvious?" Stiles exclaimed, his hands raising into the air and almost taking Scott and Sage's heads with them. Sage's nose scrunched up as she wondered where exactly Stiles was going with his big attempt to find a motive. "Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years."

When Sage noticed his attempt was getting absolutely nowhere, she stepped into the bickering to fall next to Stiles' side. "We don't have a motive yet, but come on, Sheriff. Does Harris? How many solved cases do you have where there isn't a motive? Twenty, thirty? We're giving you a motive right now, and it's your job as Sheriff to protect this town. No matter what the hell anyone else thinks."

"What do you want me to do?" His dad finally asked as he finished repeating what Sage was saying in his head. The fact that Sage still called him Sheriff despite the title being taken away from him brought him enough motivation to do what was needed. For Stiles, Sage, and Scott, and for his town.

"We need to look at the evidence," Scott said, finally speaking up. Sage and Stiles glanced back towards their friend before nodding in agreement.

His dad sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, that would be at the station," He deadpanned. "Where I no longer work."

"Trust me, they'll let you in," Stiles answered, plenty aware that even though his dad wasn't the Sheriff anymore, he still had authority in this town that people weren't going to ignore. Especially the people in the station that have worked with him all these years.

Stilinski's eyes widened at his son. "Trust you?"

"Trust...trust them?" Stiles stuttered out, motioning towards Scott and Sage who started to grin at their friend's dad. The older man let out a huff in defeat before nodding his head towards them.

"Them I trust."

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When they got into the Sheriff's station, the three teenagers kept behind the older man. Mostly because he was the only one who could get them through and Stiles didn't exactly have a good history when it comes to the place. Granted, almost all of it had to do with werewolves and other supernatural creatures trying to kill them in the place. There was the time with Isaac and the time with the fake deputy that Allison shot in the thigh. Need it be a reminder that all of this happened in one night. This definitely wasn't a place Sage would voluntarily visit, but they had to do this for Jackson, and for every single person on the 2006 swim team at risk of being killed.

The woman at the front desk looked unamused that the former Sheriff was standing in front of her. "It's two in the morning."

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important," Stiles' dad mutters as he leans on the counter. Sage shuffles closer to the two boys behind her, trying to find out what exactly they were saying. Stiles was trying to be as quiet as possible while whispering to the two that they needed to go through the hospital records first seeing as though Matt would have had to kill the pregnant woman from the hospital himself, ergo someone might have seen him. Sage went to speak but Papa Stilinski cut her off ushering all of them to his old office. "Guys."

Stiles ran towards the laptop sitting on the desk while Sage and Scott paired up to search through all of the file cabinets to collect all of the victims from the mechanic to the rave girl. So they did just that, the Sheriff and Stiles typing away on a keyboard while the other two positioned themselves on the floor, an array of papers and files fluttering the room. The only blonde in the room had furred eyebrows as she scanned through the reports given about the mechanic. Although she already knew what was needed considering Stiles was actually a witness, it would be better for them to go over everything. Upon finding nothing of interest despite that he fit the profile of a twenty-four-year old with a background in swimming, she gave up.

"Stiles, there's literally nothing down here. Are you guys having any luck?" she muttered, glancing over at her boyfriend. He was leaning over his dad, nose practically touching the computer as he inspected each and every person. Either he didn't hear her or he's blocked out everyone because he didn't even twitch when she called his name. Sharing a look with Scott, they both hauled themselves off the floor and over to the computer monitor.

Sheriff shook his head, clicking on the screen again. "I don't know, guys. I mean look at this. There was a six-car pile up that night. The hospital was jammed."

"Just keep looking, okay?" Stiles begged, having faith that Matt was there. "Keep going. He had to pass one of the cameras on that floor to get to Jessica, okay? He's got to be on that footage somewhere."

They returned to their inspection, how having eight pairs of eyes instead of four. Sage and Scott had to lean in even closer with how much room Stiles was taking up, that seeming to be the right idea because a second later Scott was shouting, "Hold up, scroll back!" Doing so, they all watched as the patients and visitors were rewound, finally picking up on what Scott had seen.

Matt was walking down the hallway, dressed in all black and looking ready to kill. Stiles immediately shot forward. "That's it. That's him! That's Matt!"

"All I see is the back of someone's head," Sheriff protested, making Sage frown. Sadly, the man was correct. All that was visible was the back of a body, and even though all three teenagers knew that it was, in fact, Matt Daehler, they couldn't exactly persuade Stiles' dad into believing that without hard evidence.

Stiles scoffed. "Yeah, Matt's head. I sit behind him in history. He's got a very distinct cranium."

"Are you crazy?"

"Alright, fine, look at his jacket. How many people do you know that wear black leather jackets?" Stiles questioned before wincing. That had to be one of the worst excuses, especially since his girlfriend literally wore only that the beginning of sophomore year until Erica ruined it for her. His dad stared baffled while Sage groaned, throwing her hands to her face as she rubbed it. Stiles' dad seemed to have the same idea as Stiles because he turned around to face his son.

"Millions, literally. Sage wears one every damn day!" The blonde didn't have the heart to tell him that she discarded her leather jackets in a part of her closet far, far away after the she-thing, Erica, took her whole style and threw up slut on it. Even though the girl saved her, she still didn't like her.

"Yeah, until some blonde bitch stole them," Sage mumbled, huffing out before turning back to the frozen screen of Matt's back. "Try and scroll forward, the cameras had to have gotten a shot of him coming towards one of them." With a sigh, the man did as told and they scrolled only a few more seconds before the figure reappeared. His back was still facing the camera, much to everyone's dismay, but a familiar face had stopped Matt in his place.

"Hey, see, look, there he is again!" Stiles exclaimed.

His dad shook his head, motioning towards the teenage boy. "You mean, there's the back of his head again."

"Okay, look. He's talking to someone."

Scott leaned forward, his eyebrows furred. Sage's eyes softened at the realization of who Matt was talking to, and stepped away, her jaw clenched. It was Melissa in her scrubs, curly hair pulled back in it's usual styled ponytail. Scott fumbled with his phone as he spoke. "He's talking to my mom."

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A couple of minutes later, Melissa was on the phone and everyone was crowding around it. Sage and Stiles were farther back, allowing Papa Stilinski and Scott more of a chance to speak considering Melissa is Scott's mom. He'd been trying to explain the situation to her for the longest time, her not really gathering the information that he was holding, more so throwing, out to her. They were on a limited time, not knowing how soon or even when Matt was going to strike again and try to murder one of the citizens in Beacon Hills. Sage couldn't blame the mother though, it sounded almost impossible for one person to remember one face. Hell, she'd been in school since August of last year and she still didn't know some of her classmates.

"Scott, do you know how many people I deal with in a day?" His mom asked over the phone. Stiles glanced over at Sage when she shifting around, pulling at the dress that was getting shorter by the minute.

Scott sighed and rubbed at his eyes, leaning down on the desk. "Yes, but this one's sixteen. He's got dark hair, looks like a normal teenager." Sage and Stiles both gaped at his horribly detailed description, knowing that she wasn't going to get anywhere with something like that. Hell, he could be describing himself of Stiles for all Melissa knew.