BLOOD MONEY , stiles stilinski

𝐱𝐥. illuminated

BLOOD MONEY

chapter forty ; illuminated
[ season three- episode sixteen ]

In a room left in a dark abyss, Isaac lay curled up on the carpet, shaking like a leaf despite sweat dripping from him, soddening his hair until it regained a natural curl. He was freezing, as cold as ice as he shook on the floor. He couldn't move, he couldn't feel his legs. Or even his tongue. The two Argent girls were still calling his name as they banged on the door, but he couldn't speak, he couldn't tell them he was fine or stand up and open the door from his side. Instead, both sides of it hoped it would mysteriously unlock itself. 

He wasn't sure he should even want the door to open, not after what Chris had walked in on, he probably thought he knew what was going on when he saw him and his niece stood half-naked in her bedroom, but he didn't. It wasn't like that. Well, it could have been like that. But it hadn't. Perhaps it was a good thing that they walked in when they had. 

While the two girls threw their weight against the door, Chris ran around the apartment in search of a flashlight. He thought the lights would have come back on by now, but he was beginning to think that his niece had blown each and every bulb, not to mention whatever was going on over at the substation she sent Scott and Stiles to. Chris returned with an industrial-sized flashlight in hand, warning the two teenage girls to move aside as his boot collided with the bedroom door, swinging it open, something Kinsey was trying to refrain from doing, she didn't want to be the one to blame for breaking their apartment when she had only narrowly escaped her last lecture.

Kinsey's room was trashed, pages of the bestiary had been blown around the room, and every light in the room was broken as the shattered glass glittered on the floor. Picture frames from her dresser had been knocked onto the floor. It was clear that Isaac hadn't been alone in here, it wasn't him who had destroyed the bedroom. As his daughter and niece rushed to the aid of the werewolf, he shone a light around the room, searching for the thing, or the someone, who made the mess, who had attacked Isaac. 

Kinsey cupped the werewolf's face in her hands, the coldness of his skin sending a chill through her own body, causing both of them to flinch. Her eyes were wide as she looked at the shaking boy, pulling the blanket from the bottom of her bed, wrapping it around his broad shoulders as her uncle joined them on the floor. Chris turned the boy's face toward him. "Isaac, look at me. Isaac." The man repeated as the wolf looked at him with wide and tearful eyes.

"What's happening to him?" Kinsey asked, her voice cracking. She hadn't seen him like this since he was under the bed at Glen Capri, tortured by his own mind and memories, even with a past like his, the childhood memories he had the kind of things that she knew had come back to him that night, he looked more terrified now than ever.