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Step by Step, We'll Get There	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: S through Z > Teen Wolf Views: 4677 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Wolf nor profit of it. Jeff Davis owns it.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
Author's note: Still had to finish the chapter today, but hey at least I finished this one on time!
Warnings: Stiles being snoopy and brief non-consensual kissing
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 14
There was nothing to it: he'd have to inform his dad what he and Lydia had discovered. By doing that, he'd be admitting that he'd gone against his dad's rules and had got involved after all, but well, if admitting that meant raising the chances of bringing Cora home safe, he'd gladly accept whatever punishment his dad would come up with.
"Thanks, Lydia. You really helped me out with this!" he said gratefully, gathering their notes so that he could show them to his dad.
"I'm glad I could help," she said quietly, her forehead wrinkled with worry. She followed him downstairs and held the front door open. "Just get her back safely. Preferably before the ritual can be completed."
"That's the plan at least," he muttered, hurrying to his Jeep. He wasn't sure how much help their newly discovered information would be – especially since he still hadn't been able to find out what the significance of that tree stump could be – but every little bit of information would help, wouldn't it?
Maybe knowing what kind of ritual it was would help them narrow down the places where the murderer could be hiding out. It was worth a shot at least.
He still had around an hour before his dad would go home, so he went straight to the station. Unless his dad was out on a call, he should still be in his office. He didn't want to wait any longer than absolutely necessary, even if it would only be an hour at best.
Parrish looked up surprised when Stiles came practically flying into the station. "Oh hey, Stiles. You're looking for your dad?"
"Yeah, is he in his office?" Stiles asked, already making a beeline for it. The door of dad's office was ajar, which usually meant he was inside.
"Yep, you can just go in."
"Thanks, man."
"Stiles, is it already past seven?" Dad questioned bemused when he entered the room. When he looked down at his watch he frowned.
"Nope, not past seven yet. Don't worry, dad, I'm not here to scold you about tardiness," Stiles muttered, dumping all his notes on the desk in front of his dad. When he reached out to grab them, Stiles slammed his hand down on them and gave him a tight smile. "I need to talk to you about something and I know you're going to be mad and I kind of went against what you said, but it's for a good cause, I promise!"
Dad leant back in his chair, eyeing him warily. "Somehow I'm not sure whether you going against something I said can be for a good cause," he said slowly. "What did I say and what did you do?"
"You might have said that I wasn't allowed to stick my nose in the serial killer case," Stiles replied, keeping his gaze fixated on the ceiling so that he wouldn't have to see the dawning expression of disappointment on the older man's face. "And I might have still kept looking through the files anyway, even though I didn't actually go to the crime scene itself. So you know, I didn't completely disobey; I kept it to the written part of the investigation only."
"Stiles," Dad sighed.
He winced and looked down again, shuffling with the papers. "Look, I'll accept any punishment you'll give me, okay, no whining whatsoever – or well, like the very bare minimum at least – but you need to take a look at this, okay?"
"What is this?" Dad questioned, pressing his lips together. He was clearly mad that Stiles had gone against his direct order, but he was at least willing to listen, which was more than Stiles had hoped for honestly.
"I know you brought Deaton into this - "
"Wait, just how far did you go into those files?"
"So I know you already suspect the killer is setting up a ritual," Stiles continued, electing to not answer that particular question, "but I don't think you know what kind of ritual it is exactly, right? I couldn't find anything about that in the files."
"No, we don't," Dad confirmed sourly and rose up, leaning forwards to study the papers as Stiles spread them out. "Deaton said there were several rituals possible."
"Perhaps at the time when he was brought in, but I think we narrowed it down to the right one."
"When you're talking about 'we', who else are you talking about?"
Stiles waved his hand haphazardly through the air, nearly slapping dad's shoulder. "Not the point now, dad," he chided him and cleared his throat when dad threw him a warning look. "So, anyway, I found out that each murder victim can be linked to a specific element that is used in the ritual."
"With element you mean what exactly?" Dad inquired, studying the papers more intently now, picking up the one displaying the diagram.
"Well, you've got the four nature elements, which are the most obvious ones. The third victim was buried alive, and that's the element of earth," Stiles tapped at the symbol, "the fourth victim was set on fire, so obviously that's the fire element. The fifth victim - "
"Drowned and is connected to water," Dad realised, his eyes lightening up in comprehension. "The sixth victim was strangled – does that relate to air then?"
Stiles nodded and pointed at him. "Yes, exactly! The four elements of nature right there."
"All right, but the first two victims then. You mentioned every victim can be linked to an element – what kind of element is tied to being ripped apart by an animal and being stabbed to death?" Dad raised an eyebrow, staring dubiously at the symbols. "That doesn't have anything to do with nature, right? Unless nature somehow gained two elements overnight."
"Guess you could call it our nature," Stiles said, pursing his lips and remembering Lydia's explanation. "The animal attack refers to the part in us that's animal, that can shift. The attack with the knife – that's our human part. Animal and human are both needed to keep the balance. That balance is required for this ritual."
"Huh," Dad muttered and his narrowed gaze slid from one symbol to the next one as he mouthed something to himself. "That's actually the most reasonable explanation as to why they died that way that I've heard so far."
"It's the right reason as well," Stiles pointed out. "There's no other ritual that requires all those elements to be present."
"And what exactly does this ritual do? I take it, it's not something to conjure world peace," Dad said dryly, but a note of apprehension lurked in his voice.
The Omega grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. "No, it's not," he sighed. "The whole explanation was written in Latin, so it wasn't easy to decipher. I have to warn you that we're not completely sure about the meaning either, because again the explanation wasn't really clear about it. Seemed to assume that the user of the ritual would just know what it would do," he huffed annoyed.
"All right, just tell me what you think it is meant for."
"The ritual is apparently used to harness all the power of a 'great natural source'," Stiles finger quoted, "whatever the hell that means. We think it means that it will grant the ritual user all the power of a magical object and will let him yield that power how he sees fit. What that power is supposed to be used for, I don't have a clue, but it can't be anything good. We think the magical source in this case has to be literal natural, meaning some kind of rock or tree or hell, a hill or so with a long history of magic tied to it. I don't know where we could find a place like that here in Beacon Hills, though, because it's not like this town is that special and – dad?" he cut himself off when he caught a strange look passing the Alpha's face.
Dad stared at him blankly before shaking his head slightly. "No, nothing. Just thinking about something. Do you think Cora's abduction is tied to this?"
Stiles didn't buy the obvious diversion move, but he let it go for now, knowing he couldn't push his luck too much after already having disobeyed his dad with this. "We're pretty sure it is," he admitted and grimaced, wrapping his arms around his stomach. "The Hales have lived here since the beginning, right?"
"Yes, they were the first family to settle here after buying the land," Dad nodded, picking up another paper on which the victims and their causes of death had been listed. He wrinkled his nose and placed it back down, grabbing another sheet which outlined what they knew about the ritual. "I guess that counts as being here since the start of Beacon Hills. What has that got to do with Cora being kidnapped?"
"Well, again we're not completely sure because the Latin text wasn't easy to translate," he cautioned and went on when dad waved his hand, "but the ritual requires a blood sacrifice of someone tied to the natural source."
"Shit," Dad cursed, obviously having connected the dots instantly.
"Yeah," Stiles swallowed, staring at the symbol on the paper which stood for Cora's part in the ritual. "Whatever this natural source is, it stands to reason that the Hales would be tied to it, purely because they lived here first. I don't know whether there was a specific reason why Cora was kidnapped or whether it was just a case of being a Hale at the wrong time at the wrong place, but dad, they're going to steal her blood, probably drain her entirely. She's going to die if we don't find her on time."
A sudden wave of coldness washed over him, his previous excitement at telling his dad what he'd found evaporating instantly as reality smacked him harshly in his face again. This wasn't just a case he'd solved for fun, one where he didn't know the people involved personally. Cora was involved in this, a girl he'd considered his friend, and that had ice settling in his veins.
Even if he was right about the ritual – and really, there was no other option, was there? Lydia was sure it was this one; if she was certain, then there really was no other ritual to consider – that still didn't help the case much. There were no clues hidden in the ritual about the place where the killer could be hiding, so it was still like searching a needle in a haystack.
He could be everywhere; there was no saying for certain that he was hiding in a particular part of town. Unless they somehow happened to walk right into the setting of the ritual, they were still basically stumbling around in the dark, completely blind.
A warm hand clasping his shoulder started him out of his dark thoughts and he gazed up with wide eyes at his dad, who offered him a grim, but reassuring smile.
"Then we just have to make sure we find her before the killer can try anything," he stated and it was in the authoritative tone of voice that never failed to calm Stiles down. Dad squeezed his shoulder and nodded at the papers strewn across his desk. "I don't know much about rituals, but most of them tend to work with a time frame, right? What kind of time frame are we looking at here?"
Taking a deep breath, Stiles shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the papers and not on the dark fear brewing in the pit of his stomach. "The six murders didn't have to be committed in a specific time frame, but the last part of the ritual – the one involving Cora – does have a time frame."
He walked over to the calendar hanging on the wall and tapped on the little square that highlighted the number seventeen. "This Saturday there's a supermoon and that's the moment the ritual needs to be completed. According to the text, the supermoon will act as some kind of conduct to make the transfer of the power easier."
Which made a lot of sense actually now that he thought about it and normally that would fascinate him, but all he could think of when looking at the calendar in front of him, was just how little time there was left to save Cora.
"That gives us around five days at most to find her on time," Dad sighed, coming to a stop next to him.
Five days were long when you were following classes. Five days were super long when you were stuck at the hospital with nothing to do, bored out of your mind.
Five days were short when it came to rescuing someone.
"That's not a lot of time," Stiles remarked quietly.
"It's not," Dad agreed sombrely before squaring his shoulders and returning to his desk. "But that doesn't mean we can't try our hardest. I'm going to discuss this with the rest of the team and I'm going to call in Deaton tomorrow again, see if he can help narrow down the places now that we know which ritual is being planned."
"Should I get some food for us?" Stiles asked knowingly, recognising that look on dad's face.
It was a look that said he'd be here for a few more hours at least, working through the new information and linking it with what they already knew.
"Yeah, that's easier," Dad muttered before pointing at him. "And then you're going straight home. You've helped out a lot with this – despite the fact that I told you not to get involved in this – but it ends here, understood? I mean it, Stiles. I don't want you sneaking around, do you hear me?"
Hastily Stiles raised his hands in the air. "I won't sneak around, I swear! I just couldn't do nothing when one of my friends is in danger, you know? I had to do something."
Dad's face softened. "I know, and you've been a really great help with this, but you've done enough now. Leave the rest to us, okay?"
"Okay," Stiles sighed, knowing there wasn't anything he could do either way. Well, except for prowling around the crime scene in the hopes that the killer would return, but one, that would be a massively bad idea and two, encountering that creep there would mean Cora would be dead and no, just no. That wasn't a scenario he wanted to envision.
All he could do was hope that his information would be of some use to the corpse and that they would be able to locate the killer before it would be too late to save Cora.
Did this count as breaking and entering?
No, he reassured himself as he slowly slipped the key from the lock and pushed the door open. It's hardly breaking and entering when you've got a key.
Sure, he'd copied the key from a completely oblivious Scott, but that was just a minor technicality. The point was, you couldn't officially break in somewhere when you had a key to the place.
That was what he told himself as he walked further into Deaton's darkened practice. He and Scott had a vet emergency in the next town and wouldn't be back for at least a couple of hours. That should give him ample time to look through Deaton's books and check whether he could find information about the mysterious tree stump in one of them.
Honestly he was still mad at himself that he hadn't thought about this earlier. He had spent nearly the entire day yesterday trying to find information about the stump in the field, but he'd come up empty each time. He'd been certain the dead tree had to have some kind of significance, though, especially when he recalled dad's face when he'd been talking about the natural source of the ritual.
Dad had looked way too knowing for someone claiming he'd been thinking about something else instead, but it wasn't like Stiles could expect any explanation now that he'd been officially shut out from the investigation – again.
He could actually hit himself for not making the link earlier than last night. The ritual spoke about a great natural source and something in him insisted that the dead tree had a particular significance and that was why the killer dumped his victims there every time. What kind of significance could the stump have if not being the actual natural source in question?
Granted it didn't really look like an amazing natural source to him, considering it'd been dead for years and something magical had to be alive in order to function, wouldn't it? But that was why he was here now, in Deaton's practice: to find answers to his questions.
If the tree was indeed the natural source the ritual spoke about, what was so great about it then? Why did it look dead when it was supposed to be magical? And what would happen to it when the ritual was completed?
All answers he hoped to find in the druid's books. Because where else was he supposed to find information about something magical and mysterious? Certainly not the local library.
With a soft snort, he walked into Deaton's office, where he knew the man kept all his non vet related books. He'd actually been itching for a while now to explore the books inside this room, but Deaton had so far refused to let him. One of the reason Stiles found him so very frustrating to deal with.
"All right." He looked around and clapped his hands together. "If I was Deaton and I had information about a dead tree in the middle of the Preserve, where would I store it?"
There were four bookcases lined in a row against the wall and every shelf was packed to the brim with all kinds of books; some looking so old, they'd probably fall apart if someone so much as touched them with a feather, while others looked brand-new, as if they'd been transported straight from the printing press to the shelves. Some had their spines bent while others had their title faded so thoroughly it was difficult to read what it had originally said.
There seemed to be no real reason in the way they'd been stacked onto the shelves either. Not like Stiles' books, which had been organised by author and then by title. No, here he could find one book about runes right next to one about creating wards. Books about talismans were stored right next to ones containing recipes of herb concoctions.
"I'm trying to find vital information here, Deaton, couldn't you organise your shit better?" he hissed annoyed, squatting down to peer at the books on the lower shelves. How the hell did the druid even find anything in here? There appeared to be no system whatsoever and he had to restrain himself from pulling every book from the shelf and reorganising them.
The goal was to read the books he needed and leave without anyone noticing he'd been here. He would hardly remain undetected if he completely reorganised every bookcase. Still, was it so freaking hard to just have a decent system in place?!
Drawing closer to the third bookcase, his attention was caught by a dark red book on the second to last shelf. Kneeling down on the floor, he pulled it from between the two thick books bracketing it and studied it. It bore no title and the cover felt soft, as if it was made of some sort of cloth. Velvet maybe? Curiosity piqued, he let it fall open on a random page and quickly discovered he was staring at one of Deaton's journals.
The spidery handwriting – one he'd seen before on documents signed off by the vet – filled the thick pages; the date neatly penned into the left corner when he'd started a new entry. Whoops, he hadn't expected to find the older man's journals and went to close it when a line at the top of a page snagged his interest.
'The Nemeton continues to deteriorate since her death.'
Intrigued, Stiles sat down, resting the journal in his lap. Nemeton? What the hell was that? Why would it deteriorate because someone had died? Who had died and why would their death affect whatever the hell a Nemeton was?
The large spat of shame of reading someone's journal left him as he settled against the desk to read on, wanting to find out more.
'Whilst not completely gone, it appears to have fallen into a slumber. The power within it has withdrawn itself and no matter what I offer, it is reluctant to appear. Perhaps it is in mourning?
I spoke to Talia about it this morning and we both reached the decision to not do anything for the time being. Whilst the Nemeton is no longer in an active state, neither does it appear to have completely withdrawn the protection it offers to the town. The Elemental Fox has been dead for four months, so whilst perhaps it is too early to say for certain that the slumber won't affect the protective wards, Talia and I agreed that the Hales' ties to the land will be enough to make up for the absence of the active Nemeton.
The Hales live in the Preserve so if any changes in the Nemeton occur, they'll be alerted immediately. For now we have decided to let it rest. Perhaps in time, the Nemeton will restore itself.'
Frowning, Stiles flipped through the previous pages, but Deaton never mentioned the actual name of this 'Elemental Fox'. What even was an Elemental Fox? Was it something special like a druid? What kind of powers did it have over this Nemeton that its death caused it to worsen?
The journal was dated several years ago and after that one entry, Deaton only sparsely mentioned the Nemeton again. Always the same update: no change whatsoever detected in the slumbering Nemeton.
What was the Nemeton? Was it something in the Preserve, given the remark that the Hales lived there? Shit, even in his own journals Deaton was enigmatic as fuck. Would it kill the guy to just be straightforward for once in his life?
Frustrated he went to close the journal again when a glimpse of a drawing suddenly flashed past. Quickly he leaved through the pages again, wanting to know what Deaton had drawn in his journal.
It was a drawing of a tree. A decaying tree to be exact, looking like something had taken a huge bite from the top of it. Above the picture, Deaton had written, 'Nemeton, two months after the Elemental Fox's death'. The drawing was quite detailed, even the background accompanying it, and there was just something so familiar about it … Like he'd seen it before, like he'd actually been there …
Realisation hit him like a sledgehammer and he took a quick picture of the drawing before stuffing it back on the shelf and hightailing it out of there, barely remembering to lock the door behind him again.
He needed to check something. He thought that maybe … He had to know for sure. Because if he was right, he might just have found their mysterious natural source.
Panting, he skidded to a stop and quickly retrieved his phone from his pocket. His lungs were burning, his legs felt like rubber and the warm sun didn't do much in helping him cool down, but he paid no attention to those things.
All his focus was aimed on the picture and the tree in front of him. The pathetic stump which had made him ponder occasionally how it hadn't rotten away completely yet after all those years.
The stump which had once been a flourishing tree around which he and his mother had chased each other.
The tree stump which now stared back at him from both the picture on his phone and right in front of him.
The tree stump was the Nemeton.
Whatever the Nemeton really was – some kind of magical guardian, a place that stored magic, whichever it was – he was certain that he was looking at it now. The stump looked more decayed than the one on the picture, but there was no mistaking the intricate background matching the one in real life or the way the roots peeked through the forest floor in that weird, twisted manner.
The Nemeton was the tree stump in front of him and the killer wanted to draw whatever power was stored inside of it. There was no doubt about that.
"Holy shit," he breathed out amazed and abruptly sat down, his knees knocking against the ground; some sticks poking his skin through his jeans.
"So you're the great natural source the ritual is talking about!"
Of course the tree stump didn't answer him, but he just knew. Something inside of him told him he was right when he stared at the stump, at the gnarly roots poking slightly through the earthy blanket.
He had found the power source of the ritual. Now what could he do about it?
His phone ringing had him jumping nearly three feet in the air and he'd accepted the call without checking the screen, which turned out to not be such a great idea when Theo's voice filled his ear.
"Where are you? I thought we'd agreed to meet up at the diner before we would go bowling," he said; his voice nearly drowned out by the voices of the diners in the background.
Shit, was it that late already? Scrambling upwards, sending some dirt flying, Stiles hastily turned around and started making his way back to his car.
"Yeah sorry, went for a walk in the Preserve and lost track of time," he answered clipped, his heart pounding in his chest for a whole other reason now.
Fuck, he'd completely forgotten that he was supposed to meet up with Theo today. He still hadn't found a way to get out of this mess because he'd been too distracted with the case and it wasn't like Theo had given him much choice to refuse.
The reminder had him clenching his jaw and for a brief moment he contemplated just running away, shifting and just keep on running through the woods, leaving all of this shit behind. Then he remembered his dad, Scott, Lydia, the Hales and he knew he couldn't do that. Not as long as he didn't have an actual plan to deal with Theo.
"No problem, I'll come pick you up."
Before Stiles could protest, saying he had his car here, Theo had hung up and he cursed loudly, clenching his hand around his phone. Fuck him. As soon as Cora was back, he'd find a way to deal with that son of a bitch, even if that was the last thing he'd do.
Stiles just left the cover of the last trees when Theo's car slowed down to a stop on the road, a couple of feet away from him. Reluctantly he turned away from his Jeep and walked over to the other car, the door of the passenger's side already being pushed open for him from the inside.
"I have my car here, you know," he said stiffly and stepped inside, slamming the door harder than was required. He was pissed off, okay, because now he had to deal with Theo for at least a couple of hours when all he wanted to do was race to the precinct and confront his dad with what he'd just discovered.
He stiffened when a hand cupped his jaw and turned his head forcefully around, so he ended up looking at the bastard's face.
Theo smiled, his eyes glinting, and said teasingly, "I know, but mine is less likely to break down suddenly." He winked and then kissed Stiles full on his mouth, his fingers tightening warningly at the same time.
Stiles couldn't pull back even if he wanted to. He sat there frozen, letting Theo kiss him, but the punishing grip on his face was unnecessary. Even without it, he doubted he would have been able to move.
Because he could smell it. It was vague, barely noticeable as if he'd taken a thorough shower before meeting up with him, but it was unmistakably there, lingering on the Alpha's skin. A scent he was quite familiar with, even if he had more interaction with other members of the family. A scent which had his blood turning into ice, his stomach churning, his anger turning into horror and his heart hammering madly.
Cora's scent.
AN2: Ooooh, whatever will happen now? :P That's for you to guess and for me to know XD Also, I'll be taking some liberties with the whole Nemeton part, so you know *waves hands*
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all back in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
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