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THIRTY SEVEN.

"I've got to meet with the medical examiner to try and figure out what happened with Jackson, uh, I've got an APB out on Stiles. His jeep is still in the parking lot so that means... ah, hell, I don't know what that means. I—uh, look, if he answers his phone, if he answers his emails, if any of you see him—" Sheriff Stilinski's voice was wavering as he spoke, barely capable of processing a coherent sentence through his lips without breaking down.

Scott and Isaac stared at Sheriff with sullen looks on their face. To their surprise, it wasn't either of them that assured the father of the missing boy, it was the girlfriend. Sage, from her place on the bench directly next to Isaac's side, looked up at the Sheriff and grabbed his hand. "We'll call you. I promise."

Sheriff stared at her for a few seconds, her hair a tangled mess from how much she pulled and tugged at it, trying to find Stiles. The makeup that she was once wearing was now dried up on the sides of her eyes, making her look more like a clown or zombie than an actual human. She was taking the situation just as hard as the Sheriff was, the two going out of their mind. The only difference was Sage knew who took Stiles. Gerard had been meaning to take him this whole time, and she never realized it up until now.

"Look, he's probably just freaked out from all the attention or something. We'll find him," Scott said, doing his best to assure the Sheriff. He moved to place a hand on Sage's shoulders, squeezing it in comfort. He didn't bother asking why she screamed out on the field, he didn't even want to begin to imagine what she went through when Jackson died.

"Yeah," the Sheriff agreed, although his voice was nowhere near convincing. "I'll see you, okay?"

He gave the group of teenagers a nod, sending a small smile towards Sage in hopes that it would give her some sort of comfort. She only nodded and got up from the bench, rubbing at the black smudges under her eyes. Scott looked at her in concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Sage said, her voice cracking at the end. She winced, shaking her head as she moved towards the mirrors that were to the right of her. When her hands met the water, she quickly drenched her face with it, trying to get off the traces of eyeliner and mascara. She wasn't gone twenty seconds before another person was coming up to Scott. That's all that's been happening, from players on the opposing team to players on the same team.

Coach Finstock barely looked at her when she came back from the sinks, only just beginning his speech to Scott. "McCall, we need you on the team. You know I can't put you on the field next season if you don't get your grades up."

"Yeah, I know, Coach," Scott replied, his eyebrows furring as he wondered how relevant this conversation was with all that is happening around them. Sage glanced over at Isaac, and he quirked a brow her way as if asking the same thing Scott was. They all wondered if this whole thing was just about Coach's need to win a game now that one of his star players just died an hour ago.

"I mean, I know I yell a lot, but it's not like I hate you guys. Well, I kind of hate Greenburg, but that's Greenburg. I'm just saying we... I need you on the team. Get your grades back up," Coach Finstock ordered.

Scott nodded, trying his best to get Coach to leave them alone. "I will."

As soon as Coach finally did leave, Sage let out a huff in relief. "I don't see how it's even relevant for people to come up saying, "I'm sorry for your loss," when they don't even know the half of it. But Coach, Coach is being realistic in this situation and thinking ahead about what his team is going to be like now that one of his captains is dead."

"That's Coach for you," Isaac muttered. He turned to look at Scott and nodded. "That's everyone."

Five seconds later, Sage and Isaac were dodging a locker door. Isaac moved Sage out of the way, which is a surprise considering just a while ago, they were on an ice rink as he tried to kill Scott. The extreme change in Isaac alone was enough to give a person whiplash. Sage crossed her arms over her chest. "You're going to find him by scent?"

"Yeah, Isaac and I both are," Scott confirmed. He threw a shoe towards the other werewolf while he pulled one of Stiles' shirts out of a bag.

Sage felt a smile twitched on her lips as Isaac stared down at Stiles' shoe in disgust. "How come you get a shirt and I get a shoe?" His complaints were dismissed when Scott grabbed a hold of Sage with one arm, tugging her behind his back while nudging Isaac to look over.

"We need to talk," Derek Hale said as he stood there, before finally glancing over his shoulder.

"All of us."

When another figure appeared, Sage felt her whole body begin to shake out of anger, her lip curling back at the sight of the man. She rushed forward, moving in on Peter Hale only to be jerked back by Scott, who had a hold of her waist, restraining her from ripping off Peter's head. "You son of a bitch! I'm going to kill you!" She glared at him, spitting venom through her words as she shoved Scott off of her body. "What the hell are you doing here? Going to try and finish me off now that you've already brainwashed Lydia?"

"What the hell is this?" Scott demanded, trying to change the topic off Sage's homicidal fantasies about murdering Peter Hale. She clenched her jaw tightly but didn't move anymore, more focused on the growing pain in the side of her face than the psychopath standing in front of her. Even when she rubbed it, there was still a dull ache.

"You know, I thought the same thing when I saw you talking to Gerard at the Sheriff's station," Derek answered, raising his eyebrows at Scott in accusation. Sage frowned, turning to look at Scott in question. She couldn't put the pieces together until now, and it all made sense. From the random gash that she got in her stomach from Scott, that had been Gerard threatening him.

"Oh, my god," Sage muttered at the revelation.

"Hold on," Scott said to Derek. "He threatened to kill my mom — and I had to get close to him. What was I supposed to do?"

"I'm going to go with Scott on this one. Have you seen his mom? She's gorgeous," Peter interjected, only making his place in this mess even more irrelevant. Everyone turned to glare at him, mostly Sage who was still annoyed that he was even breathing, much less in the vicinity of her.

"Shut up," Derek, Scott, and Sage all spat in unison.

"Such a pretty, little thing with such a sharp tongue," Peter commented towards Sage. For the second time, Sage moved towards him but Isaac caught her in time, grabbing her forearms to restrain her just like Scott had done. He was growing curious as to why Sage was so heavily annoyed with this man's presence, and who he even was. Of course, he knew Sage wasn't a dandelion when it came to people, but she was even more pissed with this guy.

"Who is he?" Isaac asked, leaning towards Scott while tightening his grip on Sage.

"Isaac, meet Peter Hale," Sage spat out. "A while back he tried to kill us all at formal, proceeded to murder half of the town, bled Lydia and I out on the middle of the lacrosse field. Then, we set him on fire and Derek slashed his throat. He really should have stayed in hell."

Derek let out a large sigh, his eyes closing while Peter waved at the curly haired werewolf. "Hi."

"Good to know," Isaac bleakly replied. Sage huffed out, adjusting her arms to try and get Isaac to let go of her. The pain in her cheek was starting to get worse, and she was seriously wondering what the hell was going on, more importantly how Peter was even alive. They, literally, did everything possible to murder him. They shot him, they set him on fire, they slashed his throat, they stuck arrows in him. What more could they possible have done?

"How in the hell is this asshole still alive?" Sage asked, nodding towards Peter as she stared at Derek. "Did you find some voodoo magic to bring him back to life?"

"Look, the short version is he knows how to stop Jackson, maybe even save him," Derek explained. Sage felt her throat closing up and she ground her teeth together. She didn't want to have to relive what she did went through on that field, and she was still refusing to believe that Jackson was dead. He was the only one in this whole damn down as damaged as she was.

Sage's face fell flat. "It's too late to save him. He's already dead."

"What?"

"Yeah," Scott nodded in agreement. "Jackson's dead. It just happened on the field."

Derek and Peter both darted their eyes over to Sage, their thoughts immediately going to the fact that Jackson was one of the few she connected herself to. Jackson was in Scott's pack, whether he was bad or not. She still would have felt his death, and that was exactly what Derek tried protecting her from for so longer. Peter got over it quickly, letting out a small snarl in frustration.

"Why is no one taking this as good news?" Isaac asked. Sage whipped her head around to stare at him, baffled. One of her best friends just killed themselves and he thought that was good news? Lydia just lost the one person she's even been in love with and he thought they should be celebrating?

"Because, he was still Jackson," Sage snapped. If no one else was going to defend his death, she had to. As of right now, the only two people who felt remorse for his death were herself and Lydia. Everyone else just thought it was a burden being taken care of. They failed to realize all of them grew up with this boy, they've known each other since pre-school.

"And if this happened, it means Gerard wanted it to happen," Peter added.

"But why?" Derek asked, just as confused as the rest were now.

"Well, that's exactly what we're going to figure out, and something tells me that the window of opportunity is closing. Quickly."

♐ ♐ ♐ ♐ ♐ ♐

Sage was following behind Isaac, Derek, Peter, and Scott, her heart thumping out of her chest. She was still upset about Peter being alive but she was more concerned about Stiles at this point. There was still no word from the Sheriff, and she was literally going out of her freaking mind worrying about him. There were countless possibilities as to what Gerard was doing to him, but the part that was nagging her in the back of her mind was that if Gerard happened to bring Stiles back to the Argent's house, Allison would have known. She should have known.

"Hey, Scott?" Sage called out just as Derek and Peter filed into his Camaro. Scott turned to look at her in question, his hand on the keys to the car that Melissa let him borrow for the night. "Can you take me over to the Stilinski's house? I want to be there when he gets home, and quite frankly, I don't think I'm going to last being in the same place as Peter for much longer."

"Here," Scott said, throwing the keys her way. "Isaac and I can run to the Hale house. You can take the car there. Text me and let me know if he comes home."

"Yeah, you text me if you find out anything else, alright?" Sage replied. Scott nodded in agreement, and then all of the werewolves had filed out, leaving her alone in the parking lot. She let out a huff in frustration at all that's happened tonight before moving towards Melissa's car and unlocking the door.

The Stilinski's house is about twenty minutes from the school, and she had enough time to think. Peter was alive and breathing, walking about Beacon Hills like he didn't kill any of the people living here. Pretending that he didn't bite Lydia, knowing that it would hurt her as well. Jackson was dead, the boy who she used to push around with in second grade was actually dead. When she thought about it too long, there was an aching in her stomach like she was missing a part of her. She assumed it would be there forever now as a reminder that she couldn't save him.

Before she went even further into her ocean of guilt, Stiles' house was now in front of her. Turning off the car, Sage sat in the seat for a few seconds, trying to build up the courage to actually talk to the Sheriff. What could they converse about when they were too busy worrying their asses off about Stiles being missing?

"Damn it, Sage. Suck it up and stop being such a girl," she muttered to herself before unbuckling her seat belt and walking up to the house. She paused when she finally got to the door, her hand outstretched and ready to knock only she couldn't bring herself to do it. What if Stiles was gone and it was all her fault? What if Gerard killed him just like Jackson?

The door swung open before she could even knock, and she stared at the Sheriff with an open mouth. "Sage, oh, good. I just texted Scott. Stiles is home. He's upstairs. He says a couple of the guys from the other team had gotten a hold of him and—" Sheriff Stilinski wasn't even able to finish his sentence before Sage was rushing past him and up the stairs, taking two of them at a time. He smiled lightly, closing the door and walking back into the kitchen to call up the station, letting them know his son was finally home.

Meanwhile, Sage had just started to knock impatiently on her boyfriend's door, unlike at the front door, she didn't hesitate. From the inside, Stiles had his face planted on his pillow up until he heard the rapid knocking on his bedroom door. "Dad, I said I'm fine."

When the knocking didn't stop, he willed himself out of bed and stomped over to the door, swinging it open only to be engulfed with a mouthful of blonde hair. A body was flung to his chest, taking him off guard as he stumbled back a bit, finding his balance as he gripped onto his night stand. Only when he looked down did he noticed it was his short girlfriend clinging onto him for dear life, and only then did he wrap his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her even closer to him.

"I'm going to kill you," she muffled into his shoulder, and he could feel his shirt begin to stick to his skin from her wt lashes. "I swear to god, I'm going to kill you." But her actions sided against her words as she pressed tighter against him.

"I know, I'm sorry," he whispered back, his apologizes falling into the middle of her neck and through her blonde hair. He forced himself to pull away from her, though, and when their eyes finally met, he noticed that they were a darker shade of green from the tears that were falling down her face. The brunette boy sighed and put his forehead on her's, noticing her eyes well up even more as she placed her thumb on his lip where Gerard had busted it open. "I'm fine."

Sage choked out a laugh. "You know, I was asked the same question tonight."

"What did you say?" he asked, pushing her messy blonde hair behind her ears.

A weak smile fell on her face. "That I was fine."

"And are you?" Stiles asked her, honestly curious. He saw the mass texts that Scott sent him, from Sage screaming on the field to Jackson's death, he knew that they were connected somehow. Despite what Gerard did to him, he worried that she went through a lot worse. All that came flashing back to him was the night they were alone in his jeep on the way to save Isaac and he asked what it felt like.

Now, she could describe it.

"No," she blurted, shaking her head feeling the hard exterior she placed herself within begin to shatter as if all of the pain she felt on the field was returning back. "He's dead, Stiles, and it's all my fault. I should have — I gave up on him. I promised that I wouldn't give up on him and I did. It's my job as an altor to protect you guys and I've disappointed you and my parents."

"Hey, don't do that," Stiles dismissed, shaking his head at her as he grabbed her face, making sure she was looking at him and not the ground. "Don't do that to yourself. It's not your job to protect us, Sage. If anything, it's our job to protect you, and we do it willingly because we care about you. All of us. You need to realize that you are not your parents, and you're not Luke. I know that a part of you died that night in the fire, but you are here. You're living, and you're here with me. You don't need to send yourself out on a death wish just to prove you're some sort of superhero."

"Stiles—"

"No, you need to hear this because you don't care about getting hurt. But, do you know how I'll feel? I'll be devastated... and, if you die, I will literally go out of my freaking mind. You see, death doesn't happen to you, Sage. It happens to everyone around you, okay? To all of the people left standing at your funeral, trying to figure out how they're going to live the rest of their lives now without you in it. I've already lost my mom, I can't lose you. I just can't."

Sage stared at him, barely aware of the tears that were building up in her eyes all over again. All she did was cry. She's so tired of crying, but Stiles is right. The infatuation she had with protecting people completely outruled her fear of death every time. She didn't realize until now that the feeling Stiles experiences when she does this is the same thing that she feels when he goes off trying to save the day. She didn't realize until now how much Stiles actually cared about her, or that her playing hero affected him more than herself.

Wiping away her tears quickly, she nodded. Stiles' face softened after realizing he just yelled at her, stepping back so that he wasn't invading her space. "I'm so sorry."

"You're not going to lose me, Stiles," Sage began, shaking her head at him. "I'm not going to leave you. I honestly don't think I ever could." The words were the truth, too. She can't even imagine when Stiles and her would say goodbye to each other, it seemed completely unreal. Ever since the beginning, it has always been the two of them. Even when they weren't dating.

He cracked a small smile before closing the rest of the space between them, his bruised lips pushing on her tearful ones. She had wasted a moment before she kissed him back, one of her hands falling at the base of his neck while the other tugged on a fistful of his grey shirt. This was the euphoric moment that they needed in the mishap that their lives were. His hands fell on her waist, and to her surprise, she jumped away when she felt a sudden pain.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned that he might have hurt her.

She shook her head, her eyebrows furring as she pulled the layers off her skin, showing her bare stomach that had small marks made by an array of claws. Her eyes widened just as she went to speak, her phone went off. Letting go of her shirt and jacket, she pulled her phone out to read the text that confirmed her thoughts.

"We need to find Lydia. Jackson isn't dead, he's changing."

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n.e.

ONE MORE CHAPTER.