The Huntress {Stiles Stilinski}

Frenemy - You're killing people to death

  Raelynn's P.O.V.

Jackson is the kanima. And we have to stop him. Derek took off running after Jackson when he jumped off of Scott's roof, making me follow. I ignored Scott, Stiles and Allison's shouts, running after Derek as fast as I could. Now I'm just behind Derek, keeping up with his paces. I can faintly hear the squeals of tires in the distance if I concentrate, and somehow I know they're the Jeep.

I can't actually see the kanima; I'm too focused on not falling down from exhaustion. Derek suddenly leaps, causing me to follow. When he lands, he's shifted, his eyes glowing red, fangs and claws out. I'm still not that confident with my claws and my fangs, so I don't fight with them unless it's life or death.

Derek walks out into the middle of the first floor in a parking lot, looking around. He seems shocked to see me there, like he didn't hear me chasing him. "Rae? What the hell are you doing here?"

I hold my hand up, taking a breath, placing my hands on my knees in an attempt to catch my breath back. "You shouldn't be fighting this thing alone. You don't know how to fight it."

"The simple punch, kick and claw seems to work pretty well," he snaps, and I raise an eyebrow. "What?"

"May I remind you last time you went against this thing, you became paralyzed from the neck down and it took me and Stiles to save your ass from drowning?" I snap back, and he nods slightly. He starts to look around again, giving me time to catch my breath back. Suddenly, there's a hiss, and we spin around to see the kanima on all fours, hissing at us. "Really?"

"Stay behind me if you're not going to fight," Derek growls, roaring at the kanima. It hisses and comes our way, and Derek dodges it but it lashes at me. I get a cut on my hip, but it's not that deep.

"Son of a bitch," I hiss, feeling my fangs drop down on their own. Without realizing, my claws come out, and I've shifted. I roar, surprised at the sound of my voice, and go after Derek and the kanima. He's being thrown around quite a bit, into the walls and then to the ground.

I pick up a piece of a car, not thinking I'd be able to, and throw it at the back of the kanima's head. It whips round, coming at me now. Derek looks on in horror as the kanima's claws slash through my side. The wound isn't deep, but it's big. I groan in pain, falling to the floor, but something happens before I can open my eyes. A bright flash stops everything, and then when I open my eyes I can't see Derek.

I do, however, see my dad firing a gun at the kanima's chest, shooting it eight times. I scramble away, holding my hand over my healing wound and waiting behind one of the pillars. The kanima has fallen to the floor, but I don't know whether it's dead or not. There's utter silence, and I know Dad is scanning the parking lot with his eyes to see if I'm still here. I wait, panting, behind the pillar.

The kanima hisses suddenly, and my protective mode kicks in. I roll around from the pillar, seeing my dad leaning against it, his eyes winced shut in pain. I growl at the kanima, but I'm not shifted anymore.

"Dad!" I shout, holding his shoulders. I don't know if he realized he was doing it, but he leans into me, almost for support. "Dad, come on, keep your eyes open." He may have been an absolute bastard to me the last time we spoke, last time I was at home, but he's still my dad - I'll always love him.

He looks up, and I follow his gaze to see Gerard stood in front of the car, his silhouette illuminated by the blazing headlights, holding his hand out to the kanima. It's just stood there, not doing anything, until something pushes it out of the way. Scott comes to stand in front of Gerard, who is glaring at him. Dad is still in my arms, panting from the pain. Gerard raises a gun in my direction, and I wince before Dad holds his hand up.

"Don't," he commands, but Gerard shoots anyway. The bullet grazes my shoulder, and I think I hear it go past my ear. I gasp, sitting Dad up against the pillar while Scott waits for me. "Gerard!" Scott comes over and helps me up while I keep hold of the healing wound the kanima made.

"Next shot will be your head," Gerard snaps. I glare at him but take off running with Scott, a little slower than him because of the wound in my side.


I don't know where we're going. I'm just following Scott, but he leads us to the back of what looks like a gay bar. I snort to myself as we come to a stop, but Scott isn't paying attention. He peeks around the corner of the wall we're stood behind, then looks up at the roof of the building, and then back around.

"Holy mother Mary of Jesus!" I hiss when Stiles creeps up behind us, putting my hands on my thighs and taking a deep breath.

"Woah, sorry, I'm sorry," he says, rubbing my arm slightly. My top has blood on it, but the wound is healed now; I can feel it. "Did you see where he went?"

"I lost him," Scott sighs.

"What?" Stiles asks, and I nod as I look around, lifting my to check the blood. Luckily it's not that bad, just faint lines where his claws went through. "You couldn't catch his scent?"

"I don't think he has one," Scott says. "Besides, Rae's blood filled the air mostly."

"Blo - your blood?" Stiles says, grabbing my arm and spinning me slowly to try and see. He spots the blood on my shirt and lifts it up, but it's healed. "Oh."

"It's fine," I rush, pulling my shirt down to cover my exposed skin. I look to Scott, who is leaning his head against the wall in frustration. "Any clue where he's going?"

"To kill someone." The tone of Scott's voice makes it sound like it's obvious, and I hold my hands up.

"Ah," Stiles says, and I smile at him because of the small noise he makes. "That explains the claws, and the fangs, and all that. Good, makes perfect sense now." Scott turns his head, giving Stiles a I'm-so-done-with-your-sarcasm look, while I cover my mouth to hide my growing smile. "What? Scott, come on. I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones, okay? Sarcasm is my only defense."

I wrap my arms around his neck, holding onto him from the side. "Aww, you have me to protect you." I grin at him, and he pecks my lips quickly.

Scott growls a little in frustration. "Just help me find it."

"Not 'it'," I say. "Jackson." Scott nods, looking around the corner at the guys lining up to get into the club.

"All right, but does he know that?" Stiles asks, making both me and Scott turn to him. "Did anybody else see him back at your house?"

"I mean, I don't think so," Scott says quickly. "But he already passed Derek's test anyway."

"Yeah but that's the thing," I say. "How did he pass the test?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe it's like an either-or thing," Stiles suggests. When we look at him confused, he looks up. "I mean, Derek said that a snake can't be poisoned by its own venom, right? When's the kanima not the kanima?"

"When it's Jackson," Scott and I conclude together. We both peer round the corner, but Stiles makes a few sounds from behind us that seems like he wants our attention.

"Uh, guys," he says, and we turn to see him looking up to the roof again. "See that?" Scott and I move so we're stood either side of Stiles, looking up to where he is. The kanima's tail is sticking out of a window that leads us into the bar, and then it disappears.

"He's inside," Scott says quickly.

"What's he gonna do in there?" I ask, keeping my eyes up.

There's a slight pause before Scott says, "I know who he's after."

"What?"

"How?" Stiles says. "Who? Did you smell something?"

Scott is looking straight at the door, and I follow his gaze to see Danny going into the club, putting away his I.D. "Armani."


We head round to the back entrance of the club, and Stiles tries to pull the door open, but it won't budge. "Ah, okay, come on," he says as he tries once more before letting go. "All right, uh - maybe there's like a, uh, like a window we could climb through, or some kind of -" I pull the handle clean off of the door, letting it swing open, and put the handle into Stiles's hand, "- handle that we could rip off with supernatural strength. How'd I not think of that one?"

He follows me and Scott inside, and then we get into the main part of the club. I guess Scott must not have realized it before, but he seems confused to see that everyone in here is a dude. I double over in laughter as he says this, receiving a death glare. Scott drags me over to the bar, where Stiles joins us, and he grins at the barkeeper.

"Three beers," Stiles says, having to shout a little to be heard over the music.

"I.D's?" the barkeeper says to us as he glances at our faces. I pull my I.D. from my wallet, the boys doing the same, and slamming them down on the bar. He looks at them all, but double takes on mine. Mine is fake, but Dad made it look professional and real for when I used to go hunting. "How 'bout two cokes, while this little lady gets a beer."

I wink at the boys, but then shake my head at the barkeeper. "Just a coke for me please. Wouldn't want them feeling left out." They stare at me while I put my I.D. away, the barkeeper going off to get our drinks.

A different waiter comes over and places three drinks in front of us. I look down to them and then up at him. "That one's paid for." He glances behind him where three guys are sat, and they nod their chins in our direction when we notice them.

The waiter walks off while I grab my drink, turning around and scanning the dance floor. There's so many bodies pressing against each other, it kind of makes it awkward to watch. I take a sip of my drink and then want to spit it out, so I spit it back into the cup. I don't know what it is, but it's disgusting. I put it back on the bar and scan the crowds in search of Danny or Jackson.

I point into the throng of people, showing the boys where Danny is. "I found Danny." It felt like a game of 'Where's Wally?'.

"I found Jackson," Scott says, looking up to the ceiling, causing us to look up, too. We wait for a moment, and then Jackson moves to the part of the ceiling where it's directly above Danny. "Get Danny."

"What're you gonna do?" I ask, but Scott just flicks out his claws. I raise my eyebrows as he does, surprised that he'd get his claws out in public with so many people surrounding him.

"Works for me," Stiles says, taking my hand and leading me through into the crowd of people. He tries to shove his way past people, but they just keep dancing. It takes a couple of seconds for me to get bored with his pushing, so I grab his hand and pull him against me. "Rae?"

"Go with it," I shout over the pulsing beat. I make us move rythmically to other people, all the while getting closer and closer to Danny. "Danny!"

"Danny!" Stiles shouts, but he can't be heard. I look up to the ceiling, but I can't see Jackson anymore, and when I look down I can't see Danny either.

"Danny?" I call, but I don't see him. "Stiles, you gotta work with me here." He's all weird and not loose, not letting his body copy mine. "We won't get through if you don't." We spin where people start to turn, and Stiles catches hold of my hand tightly. I flinch, but he doesn't seem to notice.

Suddenly, people's screams make me step away and join the circle forming in the middle of the dancefloor. I spot people laying on the ground, not moving. I spot Danny, and for a moment I think he's dead, but then I see his body twitching, and I know he's only paralyzed. Stiles and I make our way to the exit, running out to the parking lot to find Jackson laying on the ground, his body covered in blood, and completely naked with Scott kneeling beside him.

"Woah, damn," I say, covering my eyes and stepping behind a car while we look on. Jackson is either unconscious or asleep, and I can't tell which right now.

"What do we do with him now?" Scott asks, looking up at us and then down at Jackson's body.


Stiles and I are waiting in the Jeep while Scott tries to talk to Danny. I've been pushed to the backseat so it's easier for Scott to get in. Jackson is still unconscious, so he's laying across the backseat with a blanket covering him, his head in my lap. This couldn't be any more awkward if it tried. "Couldn't get anything out of Danny," Scott says as he gets in.

"Okay, can we just get the hell outta here now, before one of my dad's deputies sees me?" Stiles snaps. He looks back at me as I look down at Jackson and then back up at him. Scott nods, and Stiles starts the Jeep up to leave, but the Sheriff's police car drives around quickly and stops in front of the Jeep, stopping us from going anywhere. "Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Could this get any worse?" Jackson groans loudly, and Stiles whips round. "That was rhetorical!"

"Stiles, calm down!" I say loudly, looking into his big brown eyes.

"Get rid of him," Scott says, like it's the easiest thing in the world to do.

"Get rid of him?" Stiles echoes. "We're at a crime scene, and he's the Sheriff."

"Do something." Scott follows his sentence with a lot of arm movements, and Stiles returns that with a lot of arm movements, getting out of the Jeep to talk to his dad. Jackson stirs, sitting up, but he's still not completely with it.

"Jackson, Jackson, hey," I say, pushing gently on his chest to make his head fall back down to where it was resting in my lap. "Stay led down, that's it." I look up to Scott, and then to Sheriff and Stiles. The advantage is that I can hear their conversation, the disadvantage is what their conversation is about.

"What're you doing here?" Sheriff asks.

"What do you mean what am I doing here?" Stiles asks, playing the dumb card. "It's a club, we were clubbing, you know? At the club." I close my eyes briefly and shake my head, not believing what I was hearing.

"Not exactly your type of club," Sheriff retorts.

"Uh - well, dad - there's a conversation that we-"

"You're not gay," Sheriff says immedaitely.

"Wha - I could be!" Stiles defends. I'm starting to feel a little unloved right now.

"Not dressed like that," Sheriff shakes his head, and then points to the Jeep. "Plus, you have your girlfriend sat in the backseat of your car!"

"Well, that's, uh-" Stiles holds his hands out to his dad when he tries to come over to the Jeep.

Jackson stirs again, and I look up to Scott. "Jackson, be quiet," he hisses.

"Can I punch him?" I ask, and Scott's eyes widen. "That'll make him shut up." Scott shakes his head and I pout a little.

"This is the second crime scene that you just happened to have shown up on," Sheriff says to Stiles. "And at this point, I've bee fed so many lies, I'm not sure I know the kid standing in front of me. Now, what the hell is going on?"

Jackson sits up, but this time he's awake. "What's happening?"

"Scott-" I say, but he interrupts me.

"Jackson, I'm sorry but -" he punches Jackson in the nose, sending him flying back down to my lap. We both wave and smile awkwardly at the Sheriff and Stiles when they look our way. "That looked weird, didn't it?"

"Super weird," I confirm.

"The truth, Stiles," Sheriff says sternly when Stiles tries to spin another tale. Oh, please say a good one.

"The truth, all right," Stiles says, playing nervously with his hands. Sheriff looks expectantly at him. "The truth is that we were here with Danny. Yeah, 'cause he just broke up with his boyfriend, so, you know, we were just trying to take him out and get his mind off things. That's - that's it."

Sheriff nods, accepting the story. "Well, that's really good of you guys. You're good friends."

He lets us go after that, and we drive off. I manage to convince the boys to stop off at Stiles's so I can change out of the bloody clothes and into new ones. I come running back out, and they both look distressed. I have to make sure I don't hurt Jackson when I get in, but to be honest I wouldn't have cared if I did.

"Uh, what about you house?" Stiles suggests as we drive quickly along the road. We're trying to figure out places we can keep Jackson without him running off.

"Not with my mom there," Scott says like it's obvious again. "We need to take him somewhere where we can hold him long enough to figure out what to do with him. Or long enough to convince him he's dangerous."

"I still say we kill him," I suggest. "All our problems would be poof - gone."

"We're not killing him," Scott says sternly.

"God, f - Okay, okay," Stiles says, sounding like he hoped that we could kill him. "I got an idea."

"Does it involve breaking the law?" Scott asks.

I snort. "By now, don't you think that's a given?"

"I was trying to be optimistic," Scott mumbles.

"Don't bother," Stiles says.


Somehow, we managed to steal a Sheriff's department prison transport van to keep Jackson in. Scott and I both refused to put pants on the dude, so Stiles got stuck with the deal. Jackson stayed knocked out until early the next morning, but none of us had gotten any sleep. We're hiding the van in the preserve, away from the trail and away from prying eyes. Stiles is leaning against a tree while I throw a tennis ball I found up into the air, and Scott just stands there.

"Stiles! Rae! McCall!" Jackson shouts loud enough to be heard from inside the transport van and a couple feet away. "I'm gonna kill you!"

A couple of hours later, Stiles and I head over to the van with a backpack full of food and bottles of water. I open the door for Stiles to climb in, and then I follow him. Jackson lunges at Stiles, but I put my hand on his shoulder and growl at him.

"Let me out, now!" Jackson orders. I push his shoulder so he sits back down, but Stiles glares at him.

"You know, I put those pants on you, all right, buddy," he snaps. "One leg at a time. Being all up-close and personal with your junk wasn't exactly the highlight of my day. So don't think this is fun for me either. You know we're actually doing you a favor?" I sit down beside Stiles as Jackson pulls at the handcuffs, but then looks up at Stiles with an evil look.

"This is doing me a favor?" Jackson hisses.

"Yes," I snap. "You're killing people. To death." I blink as I say the last part - my mind is clearly not working properly from not having enough sleep. "And until we can figure out how to stop you, you're gonna stay in here. Sorry."

Stiles digs around in the bag, pulling out two sandwiches and holding them up. "Now, do you want the ham and cheese or the turkey club?"

"You actually think my parents won't be looking for me?" he says, eerily quiet.

"Uh, well - not if they don't think anything's wrong," Stiles shrugs, and I smirk. He pulls out Jackson's cell phone, showing Jackson the text message he sent to his father last night. Jackson leans forward, reading the message. "Yeah."