Caged // Isaac Lahey

9: 8 Feet of Water

"I am not okay. 
You won't understand me if I say I am scared.
You'll try to hold me and tell me it'll be okay."
By: unknown

*

"I went to Deaton last night after I picked you guys up and he said that the Argent's have some kind of book of all the creatures they've killed." Scott explains, leaning against his locker.

"He probably means a bestiary." Stiles replies knowingly.

"What?" Scott asks in confusion.

"A bestiary." I reply, rolling my eyes at his idiocy.

"I think you mean bestiality." The boy giggles in response.

Stiles pats him on the shoulder harshly.

"Nope. Pretty sure I dont. Its like an encyclopaedia of mythical creatures."

Scott pouts. "Why don't I know all this stuff?"

"Because we're your best friends and it's our job to know everything about our werewolf best friend." Stiles scoffs, cheering him up.

"Yup." I agree. "You'd probably be dead if it weren't for our nerdiness."

"That's probably true...."Scott trails off, an awkward silence spreading between the three of us.

"Wait, did you say Deaton?" I ask, thinking back to what Scott said about him and the bestiary. "As in your boss Deaton!?" I question, Stiles mirroring my look of confusion.

"How does he know about this?" Stiles asks.

"I don't know, but I have to talk to Allison." The werewolf states, determination filling him.

"How." I sigh. "Remember? You guys 'can't be seen together'." I snort, putting air quotations around the last part.

"That's why I need you guys to help." He smiles.
I groan and roll my eyes, leaning my head on Stiles' shoulder tiredly.

"That sounds delightful Scott, my pal...but, I'd rather do something more interesting...like, anything other than that." I state, crossing my arms.

Scott frowns, and turns his puppy eyes over to Stiles, who sighs reluctantly, before turning around and trudging in Allison's direction.

"Its like playing telephone!" I grin, clapping my hands giddily as Stiles comes into sight after ten minutes, jogging through the clutter of students.

"She said.....she's seen.....her grandfather.....with a book like that." He wheezes, listening to Scott's reply before jogging away.

This is gonna be a long morning.

*

"Remember the plan." Stiles reminds me, catching up to Scott and jogging onto the field in their lacrosse uniforms. It's their first game since I returned and I didn't want to miss it for the world, but of course something had to come up.

The players all took their rightful positions on the field, and I sat on the bench next to Stiles.

"Stilinski!" Coach Flinstock shouts, gaining my attention.

"Yes?" I reply, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at the obnoxious man.

"Get off the bench!" He yells over Stiles' helmet, spit landing on my face.
I crinkle my nose in disgust and rub my face against Stiles' Jersey.

"Gladly." I groan, sulking over to the bleachers.

I sat with my elbows on my knees and my hands holding up my head. Our team is getting epically destroyed, and it kinda hurt to watch.