We Come From The South » Isaac Lahey [2] ✓

voicemail

"Is she alright?" Adrianna's eyebrows furrowed together in deep concern, her hand clenched tightly over the phone held to her ear, her body leaning tensely against the wall.

"Yeah yeah, she was just asleep." Isaac's tone was calm, his words reassuring.

"Did she not get any of our texts, or calls?"

"Uh," Isaac let out a breath that seemed to convey more confusion than exhaustion. "Well, her phone was off—"

"Her phone was off! Why was it off? It's never off!" Adrianna cut off, her voice rising into a whisper yell, her anger simmering under the surface of every other emotion, whether her own or not, stirring inside of her.

"I know. She said she didn't turn it off." Isaac's voice remained calm, gentle, although she could feel his own frustration building.

Adrianna exhaled a tense breath, letting her head softly slam against the wall, her eyes closing over. She understood her anger was not towards him, nor her cousin. That it was simply the stress of the night, the uselessness of her actions, and what she saw at Eichen house.
She shook her head, preferring not to think about the last complication of the night. "I'm sorry, it's just—with everything . . . ."

"I know, it's alright."

Adrianna exhaled once more, rubbing her right temple with her other hand. "Is there anything else?"

"Well, sort of. There's these voicemails left on her phone, we don't know who they're from."

"What do they say?"

"That's the thing, they're not in English."

Adrianna straightened up, pushing her body off the wall, her eyebrows furrowing together once more. "What language is it in?"

"I think it's Japanese."

Adrianna's frown deepened, her confusion and curiosity burning. Voicemails left on her cousins phone, in a different language, from an unknown person. What the hell does that mean? "Do you have any idea as to what it could possibly say?"

"I don't remember understanding Japanese Adri,"

She chuckled a little, rolling her neck around to stretch the muscles. Her eyes met the Sheriff's as he passed her, on his way to Scott, Lydia, Melissa and Agent McCall waited further down the corridor. Her smile faded, a concerned expression taking its place. "I have to go."

She followed behind Stilinski, taking her place next to Scott. He raised his concerned hazel eyes to her, asking if she was okay without words.
She nodded and offered barely a smile. Too many things were happening, too many people needed help, including herself. She wasn't okay, but it wasn't a question anymore; it was simply a state of being.

"He's sleeping now." Stilinski answered the question in all their minds as he stood in front of them. His wrinkle lines were a little less visible, his muscles less tense.  "And he's just fine."

Adrianna exhaled in relief, fluttering her eyes closed momentarily. She stuffed her hands in the pockets of Isaacs large grey hoodie.
Even though he was alright, his recovery doesn't answer many questions. How did he get to Malia's den? How did he hallucinate being injured and in a basement with such reality if he was simply asleep? What did any of it mean?

"He doesn't remember much. It's a bit like a dream to him." Stilinski continued softly, his tone laced with exhaustion. His town had turned into a monstrous place and their claws were leeching onto his family.

A part of Adrianna's mind wished he did remember something, wished he could explain what happened earlier on the roof. Something led him up there, something that wasn't him. He's fighting a battle none of them are yet to realise.