chapter forty six
"the whole board"

      "SCOTT, STILES! HEY!"

      LYNN TRIED desperately to catch up with her two male best friends, but the mere second that Scott caught wind of her — he darted up the stairs and disappeared to the second floor. Lynn disappointedly bowed her head to the ground, letting a rippled sigh escape her lips.

      Ever since the boy found out the reason behind Lynn's blue eyes, he had been avoiding her like the plague. He didn't hear the story of her sister, more so just why she had blue eyes. Scott doesn't waver into the morally grey area like Lynn or Derek, and he could come up with a million different ways other than to kill someone. So, he lost trust in Lynn — thinking she should've told them plenty time ago why she had blue eyes.

      "You didn't think I'd bail on you, right?" Lynn glanced up with soft eyes towards the scruffy haired boy who had spoken up to her surprise — her Obi-Wan. "C'mere."

      Stiles flashed a sympathetic frown in Lynn's direction, hating the puppy eyes that had scoured her perfectly beautiful face just because of Scott. He lifted an arm to swing over Lynn's shoulder, and she warmly welcomed the side hug as the two began their walk down the hallway.

      "Scott still mad about the whole blue eyes?" Lynn questioned after a moment of silence, and Stiles exhaled a rather large breath of air.

      "Yeah," Stiles responded as gently as he could, and Lynn pursed out her plump pink lips in disappointment. She understand where he came from — the anger, betrayal, of not being fully honest with them. "But hey, I'm sure he'll lighten up. The longest he's ever been mad at me is like, two days."

      "I think this is different," Lynn replied, popping her jaw off to the side absentmindedly. "Are you sure you don't hate me too?"

      Stiles came to a sudden halt while wrapping his frail fingertips around Lynn's shoulder, giving her a mighty as he could muster of a shake, "Scott doesn't hate you! And you know I could never."

      "Thanks," Lynn flashed a toothy grin while rolling her eyes at her infamously dramatic best friend. "How are you dealing with the whole, um, Tara thing?"

Lynn had missed the scooby gang discovering yet another body — actually it had been Lydia who had led them to the place where they found her. Her name was Tara, and she worked at the police department, apparently Stiles had been friends with her for awhile. She used to help him with homework and such while his father stayed late hours.

"It's fine," Stiles breathed out, and it was now Lynn who hated to see her best friend in such sadness. "It's just weird, like we just keep losing people."

"We're just kids, y'know? How are we supposed to deal with all this?" Lynn murmured, her eyes floating down to the floor. Interrupting the duo was the school bell, and Lynn accidentally flinched from how loud it was. "Shit, I gotta get to class, catch up before lunch?"

      "Of course."

      The two teenagers than separated from hugging, where Lynn adjusted her backpack while Stiles brightly smiled in Lynn's direction. She warningly narrowed her eyes at the misbehaving boy, then took a small step forward to place a friendly peck on the cheek.

      The once sarcastic expression covering her face was replaced with a sudden softness, "Thanks for being you, Stiles."

———

      "Stiles? Why the hell are you calling me? We're supposed to be in math right now—"

      Lynn glanced around the hallways of the Beacon Hills high school for her curious best friend — they usually met up right before their last class of the day began. Her phone was pressed against her right ear, and she was quite rudely interrupted by Stiles on the other side of the line.

      "Lynn! I need your help, okay? Look, Allison found out that Guardians are the next set of sacrifices," Stiles rambled, and Lynn had to take a second to just understand his fast talking language. "I have to warn my dad, and Evelynn, I need your help."

"Yeah, of course, Stiles," Lynn nodded affirmatively, even thought Stiles was no where in sight and had to be outside by now because of the birds squeaking in the background. "Where are you?"

"Parking lot."

Ignoring the call of her math teacher, most likely wondering why the hell the girl was now racing down the hallway, Lynn pushed open the wide doors that would open her back up to the beautiful sun of the outside.

It only took a few minutes for Lynn to actually catch up with Stiles at his robin egg blue jeep in the school parking lot. She didn't mind missing math, it was always such an awful topic anyway, and plus it was the last hour of school — no one was going to care.

      The ride over to Stiles' house was quick and swift, just the teenagers rambling about how Scott had yet to join their Star Wars marathons and how much they hated the teacher who was supposed to replace Harris.

Lynn followed behind Stiles' feet as he raced up the cement steps to his house, his dark brown eyes hyper focused on his dads police car sitting in the driveway. Good news that he's actually home, bad news was that Stiles was actually going to have to face this now.

"You ready?" Stiles questioned his female best friend, his hand idling on the front doorknob while he glanced curiously over his shoulder. Lynn instantly nodded, placing her palm to give Stiles a supportive squeeze, which he much appreciated. "Here we go..."

The scrawny teenager and tired werewolf then entered the home, immediately spotting the Sheriff standing over by the kitchen table, scribbling down on some papers.

"Didn't expect you home so early," the older man stated where his eyes didn't even float from whatever he was focused on, but then as he switched over towards his son entering the house, his eyebrows rose up. "Oh, Evelynn, wasn't expecting you either."

"Hi, Mr. Stilinski, how are you doing?" Lynn brightly smiled towards the man, who let out a little amused smile while tugging his eyesight back over to Stiles.

"You can call me Noah, or the Sheriff, really whatever," the Sheriff replied, waving his hand off aimlessly. "So, what are you two kids doing home so early? Don't you have a last period?"

"Dad, I need to talk to you about something..." Stiles trailed, glancing over towards his best friend for support, but she was a bit awkward in the space. "And Lynn's gonna help."

"Right..." Stilinski narrowed his wrinkled eyes suspiciously in his sons direction, and then towards Lynn, hoping for any type of clues as to what Stiles was rambling on about. "So?"

"Dad, I'm sorry, okay? I'm just...I'm trying to — I'm just trying to figure out how to start here."

"Hey, I don't have this kind of time," the Sheriff crossed his arms over his chest, distaste written all over his face.

Anxiously, Stiles began to start pacing the room back and forth. Stilinski gradually shifted over towards Lynn, who had actually taken a seat at the open chair of the kitchen table. A ringing had rumbled in her eyes, making her head feel like it was being hammered nonstop by an anvil.

"Um, for the last year, you've had all these cases that you couldn't figure out, right?" Stiles then suddenly spoke up, pointing his index finger over towards his father instinctively. "I mean, all the murders involving Kate Argent, and then Matt killing all the people who had drowned him, and all these murders right now. It's like you've been playing a losing game."

"Stiles, the last thing I need right now is a job performance review from my own son," threatened the older Stilinski angrily, and Lynn awkwardly scrunched up her nose at the tension that was raising through the two.

"I know," Stiles sighed, rubbing his two fingertips between his eyes, knowing just how horrible the words falling from his mouth was. "Okay, see, but that's just it, dad. The reason that you're losing the game is 'cause you've never been able to see the whole board — I need to show you the whole board."

———

"Scott and Evelynn are werewolves?"

Lynn dramatically clasped her eyelids shut, suddenly having the feeling to just bash her head into the nearby wall. There were plenty of better ways to explain the supernatural to someone who had never taken a single step inside of it, and Lynn thought maybe there were better examples rather than chess.

The group of three had shuffled up to Stiles' room, where he had fished out an old chess board from the top of his closet dresser. He then snatched some sticky notes from his desk, and began attaching certain colors to certain pieces.

"Yes," Stiles replied simply.

"And Kate Argent was a werewolf?" The Sheriff questioned once again, and Stiles mumbled a few random words under his breath before continuing on, trying to be patient enough with his confused father.

"Hunter. That's — purple's hunter," Stiles explained slowly, glancing over towards Lynn for help, but she shook her head repeatedly. "Along with Allison and her father."

Lynn clutched her head as the ringing from earlier had only seemed to be getting worse — blinking a few times to convince herself she was just overthinking. She reluctantly stole a seat on Stilea comfortable bed while the two Stilinski's continued on with their conversation.

"Yeah, and my friend Deaton, the veterinarian, is a Kanima?" The older man cautiously pointed over towards one of the simple white pawns, which had the rough sketch of a kanima scribbled onto it.

"Well, no, no. He's a druid, okay?" Stiles responded, and it appeared that the boy was quickly losing patience with his own father. Explaining the existence of the entire supernatural beings wasn't as easy as he thought it was going to be it. "Well, we think."

"So, who's the Kanima?"

"Jackson."

"No, Jackson's a werewolf."

"Jackson was the Kanima first, and then Peter and Derek killed him and he came back to life as a werewolf. Now, he's in London."

"Oh my god," Lynn facepalmed, wanting to find the bickering between the two Stilinski's almost amusing, but she wasn't feeling too good, and just wanted to get this whole day over with.

"Why was Jackson the Kanima?" The Sheriff had asked, and there was just pure confusion written all over the poor man's face.

"'Cause sometimes, the shape that you take reflects the person that you are."

"And what shape would an increasingly confused and angrier-by-the-second father take?" Stilinski snarkily questioned, and both of the males switched over to Lynn as a loud snort escaped her mouth, but once she realized how both of them were unasmusingly staring at her, she casually lowered her head to the ground.

"Uh, that would be more of an expression like the one you're currently wearing," awkwardly mumbled a Stiles to his father. "Dad, would you — I can prove it, okay? Look, Lynn's one of them! A werewolf."

The Sheriff rose from his place on one of Stiles' wooden stools, probably having enough of this nonsense that the two teenagers were splurging. Stiles then jumped up from his own seat, tugging onto his father's wrist like a lost child.

"Stiles, Stiles! That's enough," the older Stilinski scolded, and Stiles almost recoiled in his shell from how threatening his tone was.

"Dad, can you please just hold on?" Stiles howled, and Lynn was quite proud of him for actually standing his ground for once. His brown eyes then shifted towards Lynn, who blinked a few times to regain herself. "You ready? Alright, dad, just watch this, okay?"

Lynn forced herself up from the soft bed, instantly wanting to just go back to Stiles' comfortable bedsheets and just curl up in a warm ball. But she didn't, standing up on her own two feet, Stiles then proudly faced his father.

But Lynn's eyelids fluttered open and shut a few times while feeling an overwhelming sensation of lightheadedness. Her unconscious body dropped to the ground like a bag of potatoes, and Stiles confusingly glanced over his shoulder.

"Call an ambulance!"

a/n: wooow coming to a close end of season 3a!! crazy really, love you all <3