I M P U L S E | Jackson Whittemore [2]

03: Fireflies

SOTC: I Run to You // Missio

Annie groaned and threw herself backwards onto her bed, flopping down beside Scott, his head still in his hands — probably thinking the same thing she was.

They were fucked.

Not completely... but like 60% totally and entirely, screwed. Not only did they have a small window of opportunity to rescue their parents, but also a period of time that Scott, Derek... hell, even this Deucalion bitch, will be vulnerable and helpless to the Darach's powers. Meaning the humans — Stiles and his bat, Allison and her crossbow, Annie and her quiver of arrows — will be responsible for holding up the fort, against some she-devil that has the power of thousands of ancient Druids and several sacrifices fueling her fire.

Sounds easy enough.

"Shit..." Annie sighed, rubbing her hands across her face. "So what?"

Scott looked back at her over his shoulder, telling Annie and the whole group, "Until we get that police request back and figure out where they are... there's nothing we can do."

They all stood/sat in silence for a bit, listening to the pounding party music below their feet and the murmurs of conversation. Finally, Annie reached up and took fistfuls of her hair, sitting up and groaning, "I hate this!" she shoved her face into her hands, distressed and anxious for something to do. "I hate just sitting here, knowing our families are out there somewhere, ready to be sacrificed." No one said anything, because they all felt the way she was feeling; Annie was just more vocal about her mindset. She looked back at Scott and shook her head, "You said something about a police request?"

"We had to file a request to get the sealed information on the telluric currents running through Beacon Hills," Scott informed her, picking at the loose strings hanging from his jacket. "It's like a natural electric current in the Earth," he explained a telluric current once he saw Annie's lost expression. "All the murders have been committed on a telluric current... It's like the wavelength of energy Jennifer is using to consume the power from every kill."

Annie closed her eyes and looked up her ceiling again, "This just keeps getting better and better," she mumbled sarcastically, toying with the button on her jeans. Sighing, she asked, "It's going to take up to two days?"

Stiles shrugged his shoulders, looking at Annie with her same hopeless expression, "Maybe less, maybe more," he drawled, praying it wasn't the second outcome. They needed that map.

"So... What do we do until then?" Annie asked everyone around her, taking any suggestions to take her mind off the slaughtered death of her brother, her uncle, Melissa, and the sheriff...

Scott sighed and laid back beside Annie in her bed, resting his hands behind his head as he said, "We wait. We go to school, we get as much sleep as possible, we enjoy the party downstairs..." he lightly poked Annie with his elbow. "Because until we get that transcript, there's nothing we can do," Scott swallowed, feeling the twinge of panic inside of him, that Stiles had felt before.

The four of them sat in the silence, taking in their predicament and trying solutions that failed miserably within their minds. After about ten minutes of silence, Annie sat up and pinched the bridge her nose, "I'm going to get drunk."

Scott, Stiles, and Allison all watched with amusement as they followed Annie down her crowded stairs and to a keg of beer. She didn't hesitate grabbing a red cup and filling the entire thing with the brown liquid, downing it in a flash as multiple people cheered when she went back for more.