The Hellhound's Mate

Angie's Return - Part Two

"Isaac! Isaac! Isaac, where are you?!" Stiles screamed as he barged into Derek's loft without knocking.

Derek was on his feet immediately, bursting out of his bed in nothing but a pair of black cotton pants. "Stiles, what the hell are you doing here in the middle of the night?" he sighed, his claws retracting as he stared at the panicked boy who was also dressed in flannel pants and an old shirt.

"I need to speak to Isaac. You said Peter saw his memories?"

"Not memories as such. He saw glimpses. Flashes of what happened. It was hard for him to piece it together."

"What the hell is going on?" came Isaac's voice as he trudged down the spiral staircase, pulled on a shirt.

"Isaac. The alphas that took you –" he began as he opened the laptop, neither of them realised he'd been carrying and set it on Derek's metal desk before the wall of windows.

"Stiles, I don't know what you want me to tell you. I can't remember. You know as much about Deucalion and the others as I do," Isaac huffed, still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"I don't need you to tell me," Stiles said as he typed something before turning the screen towards Isaac. "I just need to know if you remember seeing her."

Isaac looked at the image. A man in a trench coat walked with a cane down a hallway, and a woman was on his arm. Yet where the man walked straight ahead, the camera only capturing his back, the woman had turned, almost as if checking that they weren't followed, and it allowed you to catch a glimpse of her face. She had dark hair, even in the somewhat grainy video camera feed that Isaac was sure was from the hospital. And her face looked kind of familiar. But what was perhaps the most distinctive feature about her was her glowing red eyes.

"Uh, I don't know. Maybe. She does seem familiar, I mean, but – "

"Angie," came Derek's soft voice and the two boys turned, not even hearing the alpha move to stand behind them.

"What, you know her?" Isaac asked.

Derek nodded his head, still staring at the photo as if staring at a ghost. "We went to high school together." He met Stiles's face. "Me... and your sister."

Stiles let out a massive breath of pure relief. Actually, it was more validation, as if someone actually believed the thing everyone else had called him crazy for. "You...you never said you went to school with Angie. You're not in any of her photos or –"

"I haven't spoken about her since the night she went missing. Since the night she was turned."

Stiles was near livid and in complete and utter shock. "My sis-my sister was turned?! She's a werewolf?"

"She was," Derek continued, still in a bit of a daze as he tried to wrap his head around it. "I...I don't remember much of that night, but she was dead. She didn't have a heartbeat. The bite healed her and turned her. The last time I saw her, she had yellow eyes and was running through the woods. The next morning, the announcement came out that she was missing, and my mother said that she was dead. I had no reason not to believe her."

For a minute, that revelation sat in the air between them. Stiles had never once even thought to consider that the supernatural had something to do with his sister's disappearance. This made sense. So much sense. Why no one was able to find any trace of her, not on the dark web, on any porn sites, in any crime files or mafia gangs. Every possible human avenue, Stiles had explored a million times over in an effort to find his sister; he never once thought that her disappearance had been supernaturally influenced.

"Ok, so, Stiles's sister, who he thought was missing and who you thought was dead, is alive because she was turned and –"

"We don't know she's alive," Derek interjected, cutting off Isaac, who was trying to wrap his head around what was happening.