St. Clair || Stilinski [2]

Thirty-Six || Far From Human

|| Far From Human

      "Welcome to San Francisco International Airport."

     Already deplaned and headed toward luggage claim, a warmly bundled Isaac Lahey had set his feet on American soil for the first time in nearly a year.

     Scanning over a dozen signs welcoming him to the city on his pursuit of the exit, Isaac readjusted the strap of his leather satchel more out of anxiety than necessity.

     Nearly the whole way over, he'd questioned if he made the right choice by returning.

     There was nothing quite like being trapped in a steel bird with only your thoughts for 12 hours.

     By the time Isaac had reached the baggage carousel for his flight, his luggage was already on the move.

     Isaac checked his phone as he joined the crowd of Paris travelers, towering over nearly everyone around. A text noted his escape route.

     Blue CRV in the pick up line.

     "Excuse me," he hummed, moving between a slew of people as his suitcase circled around. He sighed ever so slightly, suitcase in tow as he headed for the airport exit.

     The California fall blew in sharp over the werewolf as he walked outside, an overwhelming sense of memory sweeping in.

     He'd forgotten how charged Northern California felt.

     Blue CRV, he thought, ocean eyes panning a long line of vehicles.

     And just as Isaac spotted the matching description, the Honda's passenger window began to roll down.

     Isaac smiled, suddenly ready to return to Beacon Hills. As he strolled up to the car, he realized that although he knew it wasn't going to be Allison, he didn't recognize the driver's face.

     Slinking a pair of sunglasses further down her nose with a charming smile, a stunning brunette's eyes glimmered as they locked with his. "Isaac Lahey, you're even prettier in person."

     Holding a smile as he leaned in one the passenger's open window, Isaac made a strategic guess.

     "You must be Jacy."

||

     The front door of the McCall home hung open, the mountain ash barrier secured and only one guest in mind.

     Stiles sat on the lower steps of the staircase, elbows rested on his thighs as he waited.

     Scott, however, was in hiding upstairs. He hadn't been sure of what to make about Allison's news, so the idea of helping Stiles with whatever he needed sounded like a more proactive thing to do.

     And just as Stiles wanted, Theo Raeken appeared.

     Stiles' eyes went from Theo's face to the clear black line along the doorway, then back.

     Theo stepped over the mountain ash with ease. "I guess we're all telling the truth now." He breathed in, craning his neck around.

     Stiles tossed a black shirt at Theo, the forced catch pulling his attention. "You killed my best friend?" he asked, eyes glinting with tears meant for someone other than Scott.

     "Let's be honest, Stiles," said Theo. "Was he still really your best friend?"

     "Are you going to let my father die?" Stiles asked in reply.