From Ashes ✗ Stiles Stilinski - Chapter 44: Chapter 44

London, England
"Wait!" Max slapped a very literal marble from her classmate's hand. It made a tiny 'plink' against the thick, frosted over window and rolled across the floor. Her voice got higher as it tended to do when she was annoyed and squeaked a little when she asked, "What do you think you're doing?!"
She noted the mistake in her notebook more like she was the teacher rather than another student. A marble is not Delothrian's Ebb. Ask Mr. Giles to review Delothrian's Arrow.
Mackenzie Travers, while thinking very highly of herself (because, really, what other Watcher or Watcher-in-Training worked quite as hard?) found that very early on she was, as her Grandfather would both dote about and chastise, an anachronism.
She was so competitive of any of her peers, working towards goals that no one cared for any longer. Being a Watcher, old council or new, was never a sought after position by any means. Most Watchers of the past several decades were, much like their wards, thrust into their duty - typically through family - but Max found herself jumping at the opportunity. Even the new trainees seemed less enthused with the passing days, as they learned more. Still, Max was filled with a fervor for learning anything and everything she could and was as quick to apply her lessons as if they had been directly downloaded into her head.
"Like Neo when he took on Morpheus, Matrix style!" thirteen year old Max had added when she made the comment to her grandfather, gesturing wildly with arms slicing through the air in quick chops. Quentin didn't understand or appreciate the reference. He'd most likely be appalled at the ones she made now.
"Hermione's at it again," a young, and perhaps overly posh, boy mumbled into the ancient tome set in front of him as the rest of the room groaned. He was the only American in the room and of course he was going to make yet another Harry Potter reference. She would give him another week before the Doctor Who references would start up, guaranteed.
Max rolled her eyes at the boy who spoke and didn't hesitate to reply as she placed her hands on her hips. "First off, you nearly used a mystical force that was not Delothrian's ebb for a spell aptly named Delothrian's Arrow. You could've sent the whole room to a dimension of unimaginable pain and torment, so thank you for that. Second, fetch your marble."
The boy's cheeks turned red and splotchy as he glared and glanced around at the floor.
Before Max turned back to her own book to practice the spell she'd mastered only last night (but still earlier than anyone else in the room), she couldn't help but add, "And Hermione was a Gryffindor. If you'd been paying any attention the past several months you've been here, you'd know I'm very clearly a Ravenclaw."
No one cared, of course. No one cared that Gryffindors were courageous, something that Max never claimed of herself. She spoke up, sure, but that wasn't bravery. They were just words; she simply knew how to use them.
As she settled back in her seat, whispering pieces of the spell over and over to get them in the right order in her head, there was a knock at the large oak door behind her. It startled nearly everyone in the room, more like the fire alarm had gone off than anything else. Max whirled to face the door, her forehead creasing as her gaze flickered from the door to the clock on the wall.
11:05 AM.
Mister Giles typically didn't check back in until half past noon. It didn't sound out of the ordinary, even in Max's head, but the trouble was that he was always on time - unless there was an emergency. She shot one of the boys in the room a worried but sound glance, one with a black mop of curly hair and frightened eyes. It took him a second to process her look and when he finally did, his head jerked slightly in a nervous nod.
Three slow knocks echoed off the walls and the American from earlier, whose hazel eyes had a glint of cockiness in them before, now jumped out of his seat and fumbled to pick up the large book in front of him. Using two hands, he heaved it back and above his right shoulder, like he was about to toss it across the room at the possible intruder.
Max opened the drawer to her side, pulling out an old fashioned crossbow and one of the bolts set beside it. To be fair, she wasn't exactly calm, cool and collected. The bolt nearly slipped out of her grip as she clumsily loaded it into the crossbow. As she did so, the other girl in the room edged over to the door. As odd as their reactions might've seemed to an outsider, each of them had been taught better than that. It was more than nine years since the original council had been murdered in their own building, a fortress that protected them for centuries.
The girl opened the door with a short tug and let go completely, pulling a compact crossbow out of the umbrella stand by the threshold and pressing a button to make the sides spring out like wings. At once every person in the room had a weapon pointed at the door as a woman with long brown hair and a round, unimpressed face shrugged.
"Some welcome wagon you kids got here," she said in an unidentifiable American accent. Her eyes scanned the room from under heavily shadowed lids as she strolled in, heeled boots thudding on the hardwood. Following in behind her was Mister Giles, sighing and cleaning his glasses with the little gray hair he had left sticking up at odd ends. The Watchers in Training lowered their weapons and heaved a great, collective sigh.
As Giles put his glasses back on, he nodded to the group. They all took their seats, including Max, who hesitated slightly before smoothing her skirt and plopping down. She raised her hand but didn't wait to speak. "Mister Giles...what's going on?"
"That is an excellent question," Giles muttered, his deep voice more gravelly than usual. "I assume we'll be finding out any moment now, should Faith elaborate."
Faith? The alarm rose in Max's chest instantaneously. One of the first things one learned as a Watcher was the history of those who came before. Other Watchers and their wards, a long line of dead people. Of course, there were two records that included living Slayers. The first was Buffy Summers, the one that changed everything. For better or worse, Max had no idea yet. The other Slayer though, the rogue slayer...she'd heard that name from her grandfather in disdain more than a decade ago.
Faith Lehane.
She knew that the woman wasn't necessarily evil, but an old bit of fear bloomed in her stomach.
"Cool down, Rupes. Buffy sent me," Faith replied, not looking back at the man but instead examining the group that was currently seated around the room. "Couldn't make the trip herself - some emergency, I guess. So, she figured since I'm already here..."
"Already here?" Max asked aloud, gaping. "You mean you've been here? In London?"
Faith's dark eyes shot over to Max, eyeing her curiously.
"Someone's gotta." She crossed the room, folding her arms and leaning against the table where Max was seated. "And where're you from, Peaches?"
Max didn't answer, hands clenched tightly in her lap.
"Faith," Giles cut in, his tone warning. "I trust you have a job to do while you're here."
"That I do." She pushed herself from the table and walked back to the front of the room, facing the cluster of young people. "One of you is graduating today."
A new jolt crackled through Max, but this time it was thrilling rather than terrifying. Giles' brows furrowed. "What?"
Faith shrugged and pulled her phone out of her pocket, tapping the screen a few times before handing it to Giles. "Last minute call. Where's Mackenzie Travers?"
Fireworks went off in Max's chest as she leaned forward. She was grinning already, muddy brown eyes shining and dimples denting in on both cheeks.
"You're not serious. Are you being serious?" Without any other hesitation, Max bolted out of her seat, banging her knee on the table and knocking over her chair in the process. Her arms were splayed for a moment, as if they tried catching the chair, but then she set them straight at her side and lifted her head up. "Max Travers, reporting, ma'am."
☽ † ☾
People always assumed Madeline Hayes had very little to say. It didn't matter the context, because the words just weren't there. Given the types of things she would typically say, one might've assumed that she spoke only when she had a thought and it would surpass any critical thinking processes, making her sound absurdly blunt and unwittingly honest. In a way, the rave proved otherwise.
In truth, Maddie had a lot to say, all the time. She was full of words, most of them a lot kinder and gentler than one might've expected.
They would circle around each other in her head and tangle together into thoughts that if unraveled and rolled out into a straight line could probably wrap once or twice around whole world. Words about things she loved and more words about why she shouldn't love those things so much. Vicious and selfish words strung on barbed twine and feather-light words of reason looping through. Words full of fear and pain tied in knots that were too tight to unwind.
That was just the problem though. If she didn't trap them and encase them behind something impenetrable, they would so easily fall right from her mouth, all knotted and jumbled and unending. She feared what they could bring or what they could start. More importantly, she feared what they could ruin.
When the words did come out, they weren't an unraveled string. They were wadded up, jumbled and stuck together into heavy bricks of honesty and inelegance which she'd drop on people more like she was throwing them something vastly lighter, like a softball. That was why she guarded her words, because she never really knew how to choose them. It was so easy to screw them up.
Last night, the words didn't come out in bricks. Her rage shredded the strings apart and fashioned what was left into blades. Of course, it was no surprise that one of the blades boomeranged to her, among the other painful things that happened that night.
When Maddie woke up the next morning, she was sore and her broken bones barely started to heal. Sure, they were still healing much quicker than an ordinary human being's bones but any Slayer would be getting increasing worried by now and with good reason.
Maddie's worry was through the roof but it didn't show on her face. She was far too used to terrible things all happening at once, like every room she walked into was on fire and collapsing at the same time and she couldn't be bothered to notice anymore.
The first day she didn't leave her room at all; she let herself heal up. She wasn't ready to confront Allison about her friend, mostly because she wasn't even ready to accept how badly Allison kicked her ass - and how she almost didn't stop. She didn't want to see any of the Argents and she had been both relieved and disappointed to see that Xander, Willow, and Buffy really had left town.
The only people who currently knew about the blonde headache she'd encountered was Stiles, because Scott was so near dead that Derek rushed him to Deaton's clinic.
Allison's parents were the only ones who saw her that day. Chris became quieter than before, and gruffer. His face seemed paler while the blue of his eyes had dulled and the circles under them sagged a little more.
A ghost, she thought that morning with a shiver. He looks like a ghost.
It really was the only way to put it, especially when he looked at her, like he wanted to say something to her in that moment but allowed it to pass by silently.
Victoria was another story entirely. The first time Maddie saw Victoria Argent was in a photo and she was utterly daunting. A proud lioness. A woman that was willing to do anything to protect her family, regardless of the toll or consequence. Saturday morning, Maddie's most recent encounter with the woman, stood out in contrast.
Victoria came in and wrapped Maddie's right arm in gauze without a word. When Maddie questioned the sudden act of generosity, Victoria snapped, "You promised me you would protect her."
It came out as an icy hiss and Maddie frowned. Chris must've told her about the day before. "I know, and -"
"And," Victoria began, her cold blue eyes darting to Maddie's. They were still as piercing as they always were, but - like Chris' - the color had seemed to dull and darken. They seemed far away. Victoria already redirected her stare to Maddie's arm. "You can't do that with a broken arm, if improperly set."
After the woman stood again, Maddie felt the tiniest urge to thank her but the memory of a knife lodging in a cutting board, mere inches from her months and months ago stopped the words. Instead what came out was a question. "Why did you do that?"
Victoria's hand was on the doorknob when she looked back at Maddie, the woman looking paler and older than ever before. Without another word passing, the red haired woman briskly walked out of the room and gently shut the door behind her.
That was days ago. Days of Allison avoiding Maddie. Days of Maddie not wanting to wrestle the answer out of Allison because of how it'd most likely end up. Maddie knew that was her fear talking and her anger boiled under her skin at the thought of being afraid of Allison.
On the other end of the spectrum, there wasn't a day where she didn't hear from Stiles. He couldn't stop by, or at least Maddie told him the dangers of stopping by the Argents as of late. The tension in the house plateaued at a high and explaining what Stiles, Scott's best friend, was doing there was not on her list of 'things that would be super fun' at the moment.
Instead, the next day he called. She couldn't bring herself to answer the first time and instead texted him well throughout the day and the rest of the weekend.
The second time he called was Monday afternoon, the first day of spring break, and amounted to a short and perhaps far too professional conversation. He asked her how she was doing and she was honest to a point.
The third call that week was on Friday afternoon.
"Isn't Slayer healing supposed to be, I dunno...quicker?"
She didn't answer the question because he knew the answer by now. "Something's wrong with you. Your powers, I mean." The words cracked like a bolt of lightning through the dense clouds in her head and she looked down at her free hand, making a tight fist. What was happening to her? Why was it happening? Slayers don't lose their strength and healing overnight.
Then again...was it overnight or was it a slow drain lapsing over months?
Maddie thought back to the first time she felt different, weak on her feet. She couldn't remember what it was like before she was called as a slayer, to be frail and call it normal.
She did, on the other hand, remember what it was like to feel drained, like the world was sucking the life out of her at all hours. Even just after she would wake up, she was about to collapse. That was months ago but it still wasn't enough to be a legitimate sign of losing her powers. Plenty of people felt dizzy and unsteady on their feet when they first woke up, especially when they rarely got enough rest.
"Maddie?" Stiles' voice on the other line startled her and she nearly dropped her phone. Her mouth remained shut but her throat made a noise that sounded like 'huh' that she hoped was loud enough to count as an answer. "Did you hear what I said?"
"Yeah."
"Well, what about it? The slayer healing thing?"
It still sounded weird to have someone who wasn't some sort of super-being or associated with Buffy use the word 'slayer'. It almost sounded wrong. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe these worlds were never meant to collide or even touch in the slightest sense. She sat up and noted that her midsection didn't hurt so much as before; it was more like a dull ache now. She hesitated before answering, biting down on her tongue before she could say 'don't worry about it' or 'no, I'm fine'. "...Yeah, I guess it should be a little quicker."
There was both a tightness and a relief in being honest, like applying pressure to an open wound. There was a pause and Maddie briefly wondered why until Stiles began to speak again. "Is it Allison? Because she's all super powered now? Can that happen?"
His questions all came so fast that she barely caught them all separately. When she gave herself time to discern each, she swallowed. These were all questions that she typically would ask Xander but there was no way she was calling anyone back in San Francisco now. For all she knew, even contacting her old team would result in them relaying the same message that Buffy tried to impart. There was no way she would allow them to do that, to be Buffy's messengers and try and tell Maddie the exact same thing. She wasn't going back, not yet. There was too much to do - or at least it felt that way.
It felt like she was a knife that cut a jagged line in the heart of Beacon Hills and she couldn't leave until it was sewn up again. Until then, she was alone on an island and all that she could hope was that she figured things out before she started talking to volleyballs. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "I don't know, maybe? I don't think it works like that."
His voice was inching towards curious more than concerned now. "Then where did her power come from?"
"Maybe the same place I got mine?" she wondered aloud but that would be impossible. Maddie's power came from the scythe. Someone would've noticed that by now. "Maybe some unknown pocket of the universe?"
"Could 'the universe' -" She could practically hear the air quotes. "- give power like that? Is that a thing that can really happen?"
"No."
Willow, at one point or another, explained to each slayer the basics of dark magic, less to practice (because they lacked the inclination) and more to identify. The first rule dealt with how powerful magic originated. You had to give something and then you took what you needed - and only what you needed.
The universe didn't randomly give away power. Every slayer was born with their gifts but the power remained dormant until they were called. Everyone already knew the price they all paid for that.
"Someone powerful would have to take it."
She heard the hesitation in Stiles' voice again. "Could Allison-"
"No, no way." It wasn't even a question, which might've been why she answered before the words left his mouth. "Not that I don't think she's powerful, it's just... She doesn't even know about the whole witchcraft thing yet."
"Yeah, well, it's not exactly an easy thing to come to terms with. I mean, magic spells? Other worlds? Gods? Multiple Gods in other worlds?"
"You're never gonna let that go, are you?" she asked and, for a moment, she thought she was going to laugh.
"Hey! Polytheism isn't just a thing you let go," he argued and Maddie could hear the smile in his voice. She felt herself smile too, even if it felt more like a twitch.
She made an 'ugh' sound. "You're starting to sound like Willow."
Maddie instantly felt the need to reign the words back in and swallow them. She wasn't ready to talk about them yet - with anyone.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" his voice was teasing but perhaps also very cautious. He knew that the Scoobies left and she was sure that he also was aware by now that it wasn't on good terms. He didn't pry - not yet, at least.
She tried to keep her voice light. "I don't know yet."
There was a pause from both of them, a tense one at that. One that felt like there needed to be words to fill it but Maddie couldn't bring herself to say any. There was a tenseness in the whole conversation which seemed to follow them since he drove her home last Friday night, when she was beaten and broken and bloodied. When her heart was torn from her chest and ripped into jagged pieces. The blackness and emptiness behind her ribs was deeper and darker than it'd been in a very long time.
The only difference between the first time she felt it and now was that when she collapsed, it wasn't to the ground.
There were more questions spinning around in her head than she could possibly let on and none that she could answer. 'I don't know yet' seemed to be the answer to all of them.
"So Lydia's party..."
"What?" Maddie answered but it was so quick and so faint that it almost sounded like a hiccup. "Lydia's what?"
"Her birthday shindig? The one that's tonight?" There was a pause. "You know about Lydia's party, right?"
She didn't answer. She hadn't talked to Lydia over a week and she hadn't even had the inkling. Of course, Lydia didn't contact Maddie all week either, which was strange. Since January, they'd texted pretty regularly and even more when Lydia got clued into the vampire mess. Until right now, it hadn't even crossed Maddie's mind, but now she couldn't help but wonder why.
"Every year, Lydia has a huge party - and when I say huge I mean, like, massive. It's always the party of the year."
"Hell of a year."
"Which is why we should all be there. For support."
"And in case no one shows up."
"Yeah, that too."
"I don't know," her voice echoed her brain as she heaved herself out of bed, throwing the sheets to the side and standing. She yawned as she stretched her limbs as long as they would go. "I need to find that girl. Allison's friend."
"Allison's supposed to make an appearance, and if Allison's there, this girl might show up, right?"
"In theory."
"C'mon, Mads." His voice was softer, pleading. Maddie felt her chest constrict like a hand wrapping around her rib cage and squeezing in short pulses. It always did that when he used that nickname and it was never pleasant. It used to be a reminder of someone else and she wasn't sure what it reminded her of now. "Everything's kind of sucked lately and you've been in Argent enforced lockdown all week. Give yourself a break."
"Is this another one of those Friendship 101 things?" Her voice came out smaller than she wanted it to.
"Uh, yeah. Absolutely. One hundred percent."
"For you or for Lydia?" she couldn't stop herself from asking.
Maddie could tell from Stiles' hesitation that he wasn't expecting it. "Uh...both. I mean, more for Lydia, obviously. Not to say I'd appreciate it less. I just-"
"Okay," she said, the one word untangling itself from the rest of her thoughts. She didn't actually mean to cut him off that time and it made her a little angry with herself that she gave her answer too readily.
She spent a good chunk of her time - when she wasn't sleeping or researching - thinking about how terrible of a person she was, and while she could justify it to herself without strain, she thought back to the girl she'd never gotten a chance to be. The one who was good at math and teased her brother relentlessly and smiled without it costing her anything at all; the one who'd do anything for anyone.
It would never be that easy again but she could try to be a bit nicer, at least to the ones who didn't leave. Neither Buffy nor Marie had the right to take that away.
"Okay? Okay, like you'll go?"
"Yes, Stiles. I'll go."
"For Lydia."
"For my friends," she said, feeling like this was the most sufficient and safest answer. There was a pause on the other line before she added, "That includes you, idiot."
"Right. I knew that."
Maddie dug through the closet on the other side of the room. It was sparse and there wasn't enough light to properly see any of her nicer clothes - the ones that Lydia bought. She would readily admit she knew nothing about fashion or what goes with what but she knew the things that she liked and the things that were comfortable.
She absentmindedly grabbed a pair of black jeans and threw them towards the bed, missing it by a foot or so. "Is that why you called? To ask me to go to a party?"
"What? No! What? That's- That's not what I'm doing." There was an extended silence following his sputtering while Maddie continued to look through her clothes and she heard a long exhale that sounded like a rush of static through the phone. "Did you really think-"
"No," she said bit too defensively before grabbing a soft, gray t-shirt and pulling it out slightly to see what it looked like. It was wide collared and shorter length-wise than she anticipated. In big block letters, it read 'PARIS'- which made no sense to Maddie whatsoever but the fabric was soft and light, so she shrugged and pulled it off the hanger. "Then why did you call?"
"...I guess just to talk about my day," he said, his tone hesitant but somewhat humored.
Something about his words felt familiar, like she'd heard him say it before but with less good-natured intent. Half of her mouth quirked up in the tiniest smile. "Dork."
"Ouch. Watch it," he replied, his tone flat. "This dork has been enabling your comic obsession. I can cut you off at any time."
"It's not an obsession. And I think that makes you more of a dork."
"The term is nerd, thank you."
"Fine. Whatever. You're a nerd and a dork." She looked outside her window at Gerard and Chris talking by the driveway. Chris seemed more agitated than usual as Gerard walked away. Maddie's smile slipped from her face, her suspicion and unease rising in her chest. Once Chris went inside, she noticed Lydia's car pull up to the sidewalk in front of the house. "I gotta go. I need to get ready."
"Yeah, me too. I gotta load up my present."
She was about to question his choice of words, wondering how big a present needed to be if had to be 'loaded up'. Instead, she came to another realization that she couldn't stop from spilling out of her mouth. "Wait! We need to bring presents?"
☽ † ☾
Maddie didn't say hi to Lydia while she was hanging out with Allison, hoping neither would really notice. She preferred to get ready on her own anyway.
She waited for the two to leave when she called Stiles back and asked him for a ride. She wasn't up for running, especially not in heeled boots. Instead, she waited by digging through her things for something she could give to Lydia that wasn't medieval weaponry. That was when she heard a knock at the door, which made her whip around in confusion. She'd only just gotten off the phone with Stiles and there was no way he was already there in less than a minute. Besides, she would've heard the obnoxious and unnatural rumbling of the jeep from her room. Warily, she called out, "Yeah?"
The doorknob twisted and Victoria stepped in, stark white and eyes unreadable. "I need to talk to you."
Maddie turned fully and hesitantly answered, "I don't have a lot of time, actually."
"This won't take long." Victoria's voice was still firm but softer than Maddie was ever used to. "...I know about Allison."
Maddie's eyes darted to the ground but she didn't speak.
"I'd forgotten, actually...what they looked like. The signs." There was a pause before Victoria started again. "It's the first thing you learn after the names."
Maddie's eyes shot up to Victoria, whose hands were clasped in front of her as she looked over at something on the floor. Maddie followed her gaze to her own bag, the handle of her ax spilling out along with the point of a wooden stake. She still didn't understand. "The names of what?"
"The girls who died." Victoria took a small step further into the room and Maddie did all she could to stand her ground. "The signs of a new slayer being called are actually very hard to miss. Maybe I spent too much time fighting and not enough listening. Maybe I wasn't watching closely enough."
She was watching the dying light of the sun from the window.
"Do you know how it happened yet?"
"No," Maddie choked out, still confused.
"I left that life behind to get away from all of this, you know. What did that life get anyone? What did protecting them get my brother? My father?" she began, rubbing her shoulder for a moment. Maddie could hear the anger rising in Victoria's voice before she turned so sharply that it startled her a bit. "What does protecting you get anyone who stands by your side?"
Maddie felt as though the ground under her cracked and she was a fraction of a second from falling - into what, she wasn't sure yet and that was when a twinge of fear crawled into her head. She knew the answer to the question but didn't want anyone to hear her say it out loud. Suddenly, Victoria's dull blue eyes reminded her of someone else's and she couldn't do anything but look away.
"You made a promise. To protect her."
"I know."
"Madeline," she said in a stern, quiet voice that commanded Maddie's attention. Victoria nodded towards the door. "I need you to follow me."
Maddie found herself following the woman out into the hallway, vaguely wondering if this was a trap. Dozens of framed pictures lined the walls at eye level. Pictures of Allison as a baby and a child, of her laughing and smiling with her father, of her hugging her mother tightly. Maddie even noticed the very photo that she had first seen of the three of them, but soon it was too far behind her and it faded from her peripheral like the setting sun.
She was led into the master bedroom and she stopped at the doorway, afraid to go any further.
"I try to protect them in the parts of their lives that I can, and when I can't..." her voice faded as she moved a white envelope from the top of the nightstand to the drawer. "I do what can to prepare them, just like my brother did for his slayer and my father did for the council."
Madeline studied the older woman as she crossed the room to the closet and dug through the shelf just above the clothes rack. His Slayer. The Council. She shook her head slowly, unable to properly process the information, even as she said the words buzzing around her head. "You're a Watcher."
"No, I wasn't." Victoria shrugged something out from under a pile of neatly stacked plastic totes. There was a clatter as the totes fell on each other in a messier pile but she ignored it, looking down at what she found. It was a small mahogany box with calligraphic loops carved into the surface, a hinge on one side and a lock on the other. "To be a Watcher, you complete your studies and you take an oath."
Maddie had never heard of such a process but, then again, the Old Council was destroyed months before she was called. Xander always referred to their ways as archaic and inhumane, so that's how Maddie always saw it. "An oath?"
"To protect her. The Slayer. To guide and aid her in protecting this world until her last breath. Because that's the only way it ends." Her face contorted and Maddie wasn't sure if Victoria was about to cry or throw the box at her in anger. "They put monsters in little girls and expected them to kill and be killed. I wanted no part of it once I saw this box."
She released a silent, breathless laugh.
"And yet, here I stand, battling wolves and protecting my little girl, as if it was my fate all along."
Maddie wanted to argue, to say that the wolves weren't the danger but she couldn't push the words out from beneath a mountain of questions. She started with the obvious. "What's in that box?"
"Cruciamentum. A test, given to the Slayer on her eighteenth birthday. The key went missing months ago but a little strength will open it if necessary. You can find it here in this room when you need it, but you can't tell anyone that it exists. Not Allison. Not your friends. No one."
"What kind of test? Why are you telling me this?"
"At the end of his life, my father started to believe there was more to a Slayer than the demon inside her. That she was the last hope of this world. I might not like you or your affiliations, but I owe him at least this."
"Why do you still have it?"
Victoria stared at Maddie for a moment, jaw clenched only slightly. "My reasons are mine alone."
Maddie heard the shrieking horn of Stiles' jeep and backed out into the hallway, swallowed by its shadows. "I need to go."
"She's going to need help. Promise me you'll keep her safe."
Maddie nodded but just barely as if it was the most movement she could do. "Yeah."
"Say it!" Victoria snapped and sounded like she was about to weep.
"I promise I'll keep her safe."
Victoria said nothing else, looking more like a ghost in the dark room, as Maddie stumbled back to her own, confused and worried. She heard Stiles press all of his weight on the horn again and grabbed something from her room before quickly leaving the house.
☽ † ☾
The beginning of the party was dull and painfully slow to the point that Maddie could hear conversations echo from the other side of the house clear as day - that is until the drag queens showed up.
Nearly two hours since they'd arrived, the house was crowded. The air was heavy, smelling of booze and too much sweet perfume. It wasn't like the raves she'd been to at all, from the people to the atmosphere. It wasn't as warm or humid and the music wasn't one endless song. She recognized only a few people from her classes, faces without names and gazes that looked right though her.
She arrived with Stiles and Scott, who were off somewhere in the crowd and she actually preferred it that way. Scott was on edge after not just nearly dying but nearly being killed by the very woman she'd just spoken to earlier in the evening, which Maddie had only just found out moments after she left the Argents'.
Stiles...well, she didn't even look at Stiles since he picked her up, not directly. She couldn't will herself to make eye contact at all, like all the nice things they said to each other over the phone and through texts were almost too intimate and making eye contact made it all real. It wasn't even like they said anything embarrassing. It was just talking. Maybe she just wasn't sure if she was ready for the person she was over the phone - a girl who tried to tell jokes and talked about things she liked and laughed - to also be the same person she was any other time - the silent, unapproachable bitch that solves her problems with punching.
When she was picked up, she had to squeeze in next to a massive, brightly wrapped box that was presumably Lydia's present from Stiles. When she looked out the car window, she could see its reflection and, in that moment, she felt very small. The longer she sat that there, she couldn't shake the feeling of shrinking - or worse, fading. Maybe because she didn't put any real thought into Lydia's present. Maybe because she didn't even know about the party of someone she called her friend (no matter how passively she said it).
No, it was neither of those things - though she did feel bad. She didn't quite understand what it really was to its fullest extent, but she did find herself stuck in her head, trying to remember something Allison said a long time ago. Something about the third grade, that made her bitter.
She was sitting by herself on an entirely too posh chair, facing the windowed back door and watching the pool water move rhythmically in small waves. It was too blue, unnaturally electric blue with lamps lighting up the inside and reminding her of a run down pool house she was desperate to forget. It made the people standing around it, chatting with each other look deformed in waves of light and shadow. She could see Allison standing alone with a drink in her hand and looking as withdrawn as Maddie felt. Part of Maddie deflated when she noticed that the blonde girl was nowhere to be found, not that now was the time for things like that.
Give yourself a break, she thought but frowned almost immediately. They weren't even her own words, they were Stiles'. She kicked the coffee table and it scooted forward a few inches with a short but loud groan. The couple awkwardly making out on the couch to her left didn't seem to notice. They were more than likely more concerned with drunkenly aiming for each other's mouths - and missing. A lot.
A moment later, there was a very pink drink in a clear, round cup inches from her face. She followed the hand that was holding the drink to the person it was attached to and found Lydia giving her an exasperated stare. Lydia, looking incredible as usual in her probably expensive party dress and flawless makeup. "Madeline Hayes? Doing her best stoic act during the best party of the year? Color me shocked."
Maddie didn't take the cup. "Can you call it the best party of the year when it's only March?"
"Sweetie, my birthday has always been in March. And it's always been the party of the year. That is a perfect one hundred percent." She gently grabbed Maddie's wrist and turned her palm right side up, placing the drink in Maddie's hand. "Now, if there was ever a common thread that we shared, it's that we both know that numbers never lie."
"Wait, how-"
"Maddie," Lydia cut her off, though her tone was a combination of gentle and silky smooth. "Maybe it's time to relax. Loosen up, just for a night."
She could hear the plea in Lydia's voice, finding herself gripping the drink against her better judgment and glancing back up at her. Lydia winked a smokey eyelid and strode away to the back doors and Maddie looked at the drink again, biting her lip. She hadn't actually drank anything remotely alcoholic in at least a year and she didn't necessarily want to relive those days to begin with. Still, her life was a hurricane the past few weeks and numbing the onslaught of terrible thoughts and memories didn't seem like a bad idea, if only for a little while.
Maddie slumped her shoulders, as if in an attempt to let a little bit of the world roll off of them for a moment. She took a drink and made the mistake of letting the liquid sit in her mouth for a moment too long, shifting quickly from sugary sweet to extremely bitter. Her mouth twisted into a grimace as she swallowed, the alcohol warming her throat on the way down. She glared at the drink and took a long pull of it, swallowing before the taste could settle. This time, when she grimaced, she made a disgusted noise along with it.
"For someone who's been going full on teen rebellion," a voice said just behind her. She didn't even have to turn around to know it was Stiles. "You kind of suck at the teenager thing and the rebellion thing."
Maddie downed the rest, clenching her jaw to stop herself from making a face but probably still making a face. She reached over to the coffee table that she moved minutes ago on accident and set down the cup. The tingly, warm feeling in her throat as the drink went down was slowly making its way up, like tiny bubbles filling her head. It was nothing, though. She knew it was nothing, just one drink. She'd had more than that before without feeling anything. She took a breath, looked at Stiles for half a second, and looked down at her cup again. "Everyone keeps telling me to loosen up, so this is me loosening up."
There was no place to sit thanks to the couple that looked like they were half asleep and half eating each other's faces. Instead, Stiles leaned against the massive arm of the chair Maddie was currently seated it. "Sitting alone at a party and drinking by yourself doesn't sound like loosening up."
She was about to say something mean or spiteful when he went on.
"Actually it just sounds like me and Scott at any party ever, before the whole..." Maddie had a feeling that Stiles wasn't about to say 'since Scott became a werewolf' so she looked up to see how he was about to end his sentence. He brought his hands up to eye level and curled his fingers like claws and made a 'grr' sound. "...thing."
A smile fought its way to the surface on Maddie's face and she stifled a laugh as she rolled her eyes. She pointed to the couple again but didn't look over because they were either too embarrassing or they might've already become one deformed human entity with too many legs and arms and no mouth as that's where they most likely fused. "I doubt they're listening."
She looked around at the people chatting and laughing elsewhere.
"Or that anyone's listening. Also, that was the worst wolf impression ever."
"And you're the expert?"
"Might as well be."
"I'm sorry, does your best friend suffer from a bad case of lycanthropy?" he argued, his voice hushed.
My best friend suffers from a bad case of ceasing to live. She wasn't about to say that, regardless of how easy it felt, but her mouth started moving of its own volition anyway with different words. "I'd have to have a best friend first. And, unfortunately, the closest thing I have to a-" She curled her index and middle fingers on both hands in air quotes. "- best friend -" Her hands dropped again. "- suffers from a bad case of the worst wolf impression ever."
There she went again, her words in tangles as they just fell out of her mouth. She didn't even really realize what she said until she heard Stiles speak, his voice unsure and hesitant. "Wait...I'm your closest friend?"
It was like a bomb went off in her brain and she was left to scavenge for the remains of her thoughts. She'd never actually told anyone they were her best friend, not even Marie. It was just assumed and Maddie was sure that Marie knew. Maybe she was just hoping that was how it worked with everyone. She didn't say best, thank the gods, but it was damn close.
Her eyes darted up to his quickly to survey the damage and...he was looking at her already. Not just her eyes, but her whole face, like he was searching for something. His eyes were a deep amber color, like dark rum. They always get darker when he's thinking, she reminded herself, but that had to be the drink talking. She never even realized that a fact like that had ever been stored in her brain. Seriously thinking. She couldn't look anywhere but his eyes; she wouldn't allow herself to. She was still mortified about her inner monologue involving his hands from weeks ago and what that could possibly imply. Her dream came back into focus and she was suddenly thankful for the alcohol because her cheeks were most likely already turning red.
The shrinking feeling didn't necessarily come back but she felt like she wanted to shrink away, to fade and disappear completely. Not to be like Marie, not to be dead. Just...to not exist. The way he was looking at her was too much and she couldn't take it. She couldn't handle what it could do.
She was almost thankful when he turned away suddenly. Almost.
"Did you hear that?"
Maddie's brows furrowed and she turned in the direction of the back door. The same chatter and music continued on, nothing out of the ordinary. She looked back up at Stiles, who was transfixed on the something beyond the door but shook his head violently and gave a couple of emphatic blinks before looked back at her. His eyes weren't focused on her anymore; they were distant, confused, and maybe even afraid.
"I, uh...I gotta find Scott." He stopped leaning against the chair and began to head towards the backyard before he stopped and turned back, gesturing to her. "Don't move. Just...stay right there."
It wasn't like she was planning on going anywhere, but still she tilted her head and frowned. "Why?"
"Because I'll be right back." The corners of his mouth were quirking upward in the very beginnings of a smile and he held up one hand to her, fingers splayed apart. "Five minutes!"
She didn't say okay or even nod, but instead studied him as he walked out of the house like he was a species of animal she had never seen in her life. Most of the time, she was fairly certain that was an apt description of Stiles. Once he was out of sight, it felt as though a heat lamp that had been directly in front of her like a spotlight had been switched off entirely. Still, her head felt light from the drink.
That's when she heard a laugh. She'd heard a million laughs that night already but the loud, boisterous one that just rang in her ears turned her blood to ice. She was sure that her heart stopped for a whole second. The laughter floated to her ears again and she couldn't breathe.
Maddie shot up from her seat and stumbled a bit. It was only one drink. She shook off the dizziness and followed the melodic sound of a girl's voice. She swore she could even hear the southern drawl.
She knocked into a few people, pushing them out of the way and hearing one of them curse in her direction. It didn't matter; whoever it was, their voice sounded so far away already that she couldn't seem to care. She kept pushing past people and stumbling around others, the edges of her vision blurring.
Finally, there was a break in the crowd, a full six by six space at least but probably more. Across the space that seemed to be constantly getting wider, Maddie felt everything in her chest crash into her stomach and, once again, she was falling. In front of her, there was a tall girl with tight blonde curls that were so wild that her hair even looked unkempt when it was pinned back from her face. She was wearing a white, cherry print sundress with heels that made her even taller. She was the center of attention, surrounded by people, and she glowed so bright that it hurt.
Thunder sounded outside but it felt so close that it could've been right over their heads. It was about to rain. She could feel it.
Maddie was about to say the girl's name, but it was stuck at the base of her throat, so thick with pain that she wasn't quite sure if she was choking on it. Still, the mere thought of the girl seemed to call her attention.
This was always the moment when she knew it was just a fantasy. This was when the stranger that looked like her best friend turned around and the face was always different. It was never her. She was gone. That was what Maddie expected when the girl turned around, another fake out to bring her back to the present. Instead, she was met with crystalline blue eyes, freckles, and a smile so big that Maddie wanted to smile back or even break out into laughter.
But she couldn't move. She couldn't will herself to do anything but stand there, gaping as her heartbeat sped along. The blonde took careful steps toward her, smiling and eyes shining. She stopped only a foot or so from Maddie and her smile changed. It was still the smile she knew but it was quivering, like she was about to cry.
She never cries, the memory repeated on and on.
"Mads," the girl said, her voice a song.
Maddie breathed one word and it still sounded throttled. One question. "Marie?"
"I don't understand," she said, her voice breaking again, eye bloodshot again. "Why did you kill them?"
Maddie couldn't even suck in another breath; it was lodged in her throat along with her panic. Marie, hair wet and perfect makeup melting off her face, walked right past her and Maddie spun around to be met with only bodies. Still and bleeding bodies littered the ground with faces she didn't want to recognize. All of their torsos severed. She focused beyond them so that she couldn't make out their blurred faces. Only two figures stood before her, neither one Marie. Maddie who had started hyperventilating scanned the ground and found Marie, soaked and lifeless on the hardwood floor, eyes open and neck twisted at an impossible angle.
Still, in Maddie's horror, the girl's broken body spoke. "Why did you kill me?"
Maddie still couldn't move but she was shaking and her breaths were getting shorter and shorter. She looked up at the remaining figures. One was a shadow, a tear in the universe that led to nothing but darkness. Still it could move and look straight into Maddie without eyes and it could bellow a horrible shrieking sound. It grabbed the other figure's neck and it just registered who the other person was.
There, back to the shadow, was Stiles with a look she'd never seen on his face. His eyes were empty, the light in them already snuffed out, like he was looking right through her. He didn't move until a massive shudder went through him as the shadow buried something in his back.
He began coughing and blood sprayed across her face and shirt. He staggered towards Maddie, but before he could reach her, he fell to his knees and landed face first on the hardwood floor. Maddie felt like she was watching from somewhere else, like it was happening to someone else, so much so that she didn't realize that the scream that followed had come tearing out of her own throat.
The real horror didn't set in until she saw what was sticking out of Stiles' back. The Celtic symbols on the silver handle made her feel numb and she didn't have to see the blade to recognize her own ax. The shadow, though, had already yanked it out of the corpse and Maddie knew what she was looking at. The creature seemed to move in stop-motion, every step jagged and unnatural. Maddie felt the bile rise in her stomach as she moved her gaze from the ax to the shadow's face.
It had features now, smears of black over the empty pits where her eyes should be. Dark hair fell around her head, but Maddie could in fact still recognize her own face.
It shrieked again, a sound not of this earth, and charged Maddie. Her senses crashed back into her body and she shielded herself.
Nothing came.
The sound of rain flowed back into music and the chatter continued as if it had never even stopped. Maddie lowered her arms, her chest still heaving in short breaths. Everyone was standing and talking as if nothing had happened. She stumbled back and shook her head as hard as she could, staring at the crowd again before checking her shirt for bloodstains. Nothing.
She rushed to the kitchen sink, splashing cool water on her face a few times and drinking the rest from her hands. She shook her head again, shaking out the fog and opening her eyes wide.
They were all dead. She saw them and they were still and bloodied...and the thing - the beast, the monster - was... She felt the acid in her stomach rise to her throat and she swallowed it down.
Where was Scott? Where was Stiles?
She ran, knocking into more people than before and she was sure the same person that had swore at her the first time did again. She didn't care because she didn't have time to care. She had to make sure everyone was alright.
Her feet carried her as quickly as possible to the other end of the house and she burst through the back door. Before she could even see Scott or Stiles, someone sopping wet pushed past her and through the house. She turned and, for a second, thought she recognized them.
"Maddie!" she heard a moment later. Relief filled her at the sound of Scott's voice and she turned, seeing both boys and nearly bulldozing them with how she was staggering.
"What's going on?! What's happening?!" she started, her panic resurfacing. The looks on their faces seemed to mirror the sentiment, but that may have just been because they had never seen her so freaked out.
Sirens started in the distance.
"It's Matt," Stiles said, glancing from her to the inside of the house. She whirled around to the back door that drunken people were running and stumbling through, but the person who had shoved past her was gone. "Matt's controlling the kanima."
Maddie took a breath and pushed out the images in her head. Her panic made her feel sober enough to regain her outer shell of composure, which had to be enough for now. Time to go to work.