Chapter Text
“Lydia…” The fuzzy voice echoed in her ears. A dimly lit hallway with green painted doors lining the walls stretched out in front of her. Lydia looked over her shoulder to find it to be the same behind her. “I don’t know…think I’m lost…” There was something familiar about the voice but it wasn’t loud or clear enough to truly hear.
“I can’t hear you,” she replied while walking down the hall.
There were numbers on the doors engraved on brass plates. Flickering lamplights at even intervals down the hall had her hair standing on end. “Not alone…trapped in here.” It wasn’t any clearer or louder. She strained her hearing to try and gain clarity but all she got in return was white noise. Behind one of the doors came a whispering noise. Against her better judgement, Lydia stepped up to the door. The number thirteen was engraved on the plate. With a deep breath, she reached out for the brass knob and turned it. Unbearable heat rushed out through the crack and grew to the point of her skin burning when she pushed it open. She lifted her arm to shield her eyes as a flaming orange light burst outwards towards her.
A scream was on the tip of her tongue as she shot awake. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she fell back on her pillows panting. The only light in the room was the sliver of moonlight coming through her curtains, leaving everything else in darkness but a strip of her bed. She wiped the sweat off her forehead and rolled onto her side. It had been a couple months since she’d had any weird dreams, not since they stopped the Wild Hunt. A return of them had her skin prickling with unease.
Putting the dream from her mind, Lydia went back to sleep.
The police precinct was in full motion for the morning. Sheriff Stilinski kept glancing out at the deputies with a growing frown. There hadn’t been a call but Parrish had yet to show. Out of everyone that young man was never late for a shift, ever. He gave it another fifteen minutes before he was stepping out of his office to ask if anyone had seen or heard from him. All responses were negative. Stepping back into the office, he picked up the phone to call the deputy’s number. It rang out. A message was left and he hoped that the man had simply had a long night before.
Scott had been volunteering as assistant coach for the lacrosse team over the summer and his last day was coming up. There was a skirmish later that night but they were putting the team through a few drills. The mid-morning sun was shining down bright and hot. Out on the field Liam and Brett - having moved to Beacon Hills recently - were proving to be good candidates for co-captains for the next season. He had worried with their past rivalry that they wouldn’t work well together but it had been for naught.
Coach shouted something at Nolan about losing the ball. It was rather laid back practice compared to a few in the past. Scott linked his arms behind his head and watched the drills being run for a few moments. Then something coming out of the woods caught his attention. A gray wolf was heading straight for the team. Liam was quick to break apart from everyone else as he jogged across the field to join the junior. There was a call for everyone to get back from Coach. Without stopping or looking away, the wolf came right up to them. It only stopped when he kneeled in front of it, staring deep into its golden eyes. The only thing off with it was that it was scared.
Then it was turned around and took off back into the woods. With a word to Liam to stay where he was, Scott followed it. Through the trees for quite some time until he started to smell what might have a wolf running scared and for help. Burnt wood, smoke, and ash. He was a touch more cautious as he followed the wolf. Until the grass and leaves started to blacken under his foot and soot covered the tree trunks. It wasn’t hard to see what gave the wolf a fright.
In the middle of a clearing was nothing but ash. Almost like a fire had gotten out of hand but it would be on the news if something like that happened. It was a dry season in California and a fire was a serious problem. Scott tried to get a scent on who could have done this but the most he could find was that no accelerant was used. The weirdest part was how circular the spread of damage was. Controlled in a way. Like someone knew what they were doing when they lit this place up.
There was only one person he could think of that had that much control over fire and flames. But Parrish had no reason to burn down a random place in the forest. Not when Argent had given him a controlled space in the tunnels to practice and learn about his abilities.
The oddity wasn’t over as the wolf looked at him from the edge of the clearing in an attempt to get him to continue following it. All over the forest places like the burnt clearing cropped up. All the same size. Scott pulled out his phone to call Parrish to see if it was him doing this but he was sent to voicemail. He changed tactics and called Lydia. If anyone could reach the deputy it would be her.
“Scott?” Lydia answered the call while helping Malia pack her suitcase for Paris.
“Can you get a hold of Parrish?” Scott asked.
“Uh, why not check with Mr. Stilinski first?” She held up a shirt to the girl on the bed but she shook her head. It was tossed back into the closet. “Surely he’d know where his deputy is.”
“This isn’t exactly a normal question that I’ve got for him.”
“Give me a minute,” she sighed, “I’ll send you a text if he answers his phone.”
She ended the call with Scott to pull up Jordan’s number. It rang out. A second time had the same result. With a roll of her eyes, Lydia called the Sheriff. Turned out, Jordan hadn’t answered his calls either and hadn’t shown up to work. Instead of sending a text, she called Scott back.
“He’s not answering me or Mr. Stilinski,” she said the moment the call was picked up. “He’s not shown up for work all day either.”
“I think he might be out in the preserve,” Scott said. “This wolf has led me all over to these different places in the forest that had been set on fire. It’s too controlled to be random.”
“And you think it’s Jordan?” That didn’t sound like something he would do. Lydia sat down on the edge of Malia’s bed.
“I don’t have a better explanation for it.”
“I’ll see if he’s home,” she said. “Can you mark on a map every burn spot? There might be a pattern like with the Telluric currents.”
“Can you meet me at my place later?”
It wasn’t a solid plan but they weren’t doing anything dangerous, hopefully. Lydia asked if Malia wanted to tag along but was waved off. The girl had been watching her laptop for hours now, waiting for any news about her flight. It wasn’t supposed to be leaving until early tomorrow morning.
The day was still early enough that it wasn’t weird if anyone saw her going up to Jordan’s apartment. There was a feeling in the air that made her hair stand on end the moment she stepped out of the stairwell. His apartment was at the very end of the hall with the fire escape. She reached out to knock when she noticed that the door was open a small crack. Worry built in her chest. Jordan never left the door open nor forgot to lock it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the white door open, preparing for the worst.
Inside was a complete mess. Furniture broken and charred, burn and claw marks in the hard wood, a handprint was burned into the wall next to the door. Lydia didn’t hesitate before calling the Sheriff again. Whatever had happened here wasn’t anything good. Not just anyone or thing could go against a hellhound and disappear with him. There wasn’t a trace of Jordan in the apartment.
One statement to the police later and Lydia was on her way to Scott’s. Melissa was at work but she had no trouble letting herself into the house. Scott was leaning over the dining table with a map spread out.
“Jordan’s missing,” she said while coming up to the table. “His apartment was trashed and Mr. Stilinski thinks he was taken somehow.”
“Do they know how long he’s been gone?” Scott aske without looking up from the map. Seven red dots were marked down, all surrounding one point in the center. Lydia didn’t need to ask to already know what was in the middle. The Nemeton.
“Best guess is he was taken sometime after he got off work yesterday.” She followed the circle around the Nemeton with a frown. “No one heard or saw anything apparently.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Scott muttered. He looked up from the map to her. “Someone would have reported the smoke from these fires if they were done during the day. They were still warm when I found them.”
Lydia was tempted to ask him to show her some of the places but held off. “None of us know how hellfire works,” she pointed out. “It could stay hot far longer than a normal fire.”
“It smelled recent too.”
“Then I don’t know, Scott! Maybe it had something to do with who took him.”
Only for a moment did she feel bad for snapping at him. It wasn’t his fault. The soft apology was accepted without anything else said. There didn’t seem to be anything they could do when they didn’t know the who, what, or why for any of this. Only that Jordan was missing and there were seven perfectly symmetrical circles burned around the Nemeton. It left her tense on the way home and made it hard to get any sleep.
“Lydia…” She opened her eyes to the same stretching hallway from the night before. The lights started to flicker as she walked towards the thirteenth door. Unlike the first time, the lack of sound was more noticeable. Silence put cotton in her ears. “Can you…don’t know where I am…”
“Jordan?” The voice still wasn’t loud or clear but Lydia knew in her heart it had to be him. “Is that you?”
“Lydia!” Down the hall the door with the engraved thirteen rattled. She came to a stop in front of the green wood. Immense heat came off the door knob when she reached out to touch it. It was almost enough to have her pulling her hand back but she touched it instead. The brass was hot to the touch. It burned her hand as she twisted the knob before letting go while shoving the door open. “Find me…”
Rolling flames of orange and yellow filled the room. Twisting into a storm in the center that pushed outwards to scorch everything in its path. Lydia found her feet glued to the floor as she stared wide-eyed at the fire. The heat seared her skin. In the eye of the storm was a blurred figure down on their knees. Heat waves created a filter that hurt to try and see through, but she tried anyway. Squinted against the raging fire to get a better look at the figure. Their head lifted and blazing orange eyes met her own.
Lydia snapped awake with Jordan’s name a scream on her tongue. The unbearable heat of the dream had sweat dripping down the back of her neck. With a frustrated groan, she fell back on her pillows. Without a doubt, Jordan was trying to reach out to her from wherever he was.
In a dark room, Jordan thrashed in his sleep. His wrists and ankles were cuffed to the metal frame of a bed to keep him from harming himself. High in the corner a red light blinked from a camera monitoring him. Cracks formed on his bare skin with orange embers glowing within the more he struggled. Before he could wake someone dressed in blue scrubs entered the room. A large syringe was pulled out of a pocket and inserted into the young man’s neck. All signs of distress disappeared with the sedative flooding his system.
Chapter Text
The stiff ache of his limbs had Jordan groaning and trying to stretch only to find himself tied down. His eyes shot open to a dark ceiling. Soft cuffs were wrapped around his wrists and ankles that didn’t give way when he tugged on them. He squinted against the darkness in the hopes of his vision adjusting but the only light seemed to be a small dot high in a corner. It wasn’t enough to see by. Turning his attention back to himself he noted the lack of clothes or even a sheet to give him some modesty.
It made his skin prickle and something sick twist in his stomach. Drawing up his strength like he had been practicing for the last few months, he yanked on the cuff holding his right wrist down. The sound of leather tearing filled the deafeningly quiet room. With one wrist free he had no trouble undoing the last three cuffs. He rubbed his wrists while focusing some of the power roiling within him into his eyes to see the room.
They glowed orange in the darkness. But the room was plain and reminded him too much of a prison cell with only the bare bed and toilet and sink combo in the corner. There wasn’t even a door or seam for one. Jordan got to his feet to run his hand along the walls in search of anything that could allude to a door. Cool metal graced his fingers and he found rivets at even intervals to hold the thick sheets together but nothing that could mark a doorway or sliding panel like in movies. Turning his gaze higher, he found a small vent on the opposite wall of the bed. But he soon found that it was too high up to reach.
Instead of giving up, he tried to see if he could move the bed across the room. The bed was bolted to the floor. With a frustrated growl, he fell to his knees next to one of the legs to try prying the bolts out of the plate. Even bare as the day he was born he could hardly feel how cold the tile floor was.
Out of everything to happen, being kidnapped had been low on his list of things to occur. He couldn’t quite remember how he got here other than a few snippets of almost setting his apartment ablaze. He wasn’t even sure if someone had been there either. It was all in a fiery haze like an overheated film reel. Parts were missing and melted away by the heat. Trying to remember had sharp pins stabbing his temples, causing him to rub them in the hopes of getting it go away.
His fingers were bloody. Jordan pulled them away when he felt something wet on his skin. Several of his nails were broken and cracked from where he had been prying at the bolts in the floor. The sting of it had him hissing and tucking both hands close to his chest. They would heal soon. He pressed his back against the frame of the bed and dropped his head to the metal. While he wasn’t claustrophobic he might develop something in that realm if he was left in here for too long. It was a small room and he liked open spaces. Once his hands healed he would try ripping the bed free of the anchors to reach the vent. Even though he knew it was too small to fit through there was a chance it led somewhere.
Close to what had to be an hour later, Jordan was back on his feet and wrapping his hands around the metal frame of the bed. Drawing up the fire burning beneath his skin, he put all his strength into pulling. The sound of wrenching metal filled the room. He stumbled back a few steps when the metal in his hands broke away from the rest of the frame. It was red-hot and warping. With an annoyed sigh, he tossed the piece aside to take in the rest of the bed. There wasn’t a change.
Changing tactics, he got down on his knees again and pressed both hands to the metal plate. It started to glow beneath his palms. All it took was a quick yank upwards to pull the soft metal away from the floor. Jordan moved to repeat the action on the easiest accessed anchors. Then he grumbled to himself while crawling under the bed to do the same to the last one.
Once the bed was separate from the floor he pulled it over to the wall with the vent. He stepped up on the bed to find that while he was still too short to see into it, he could reach the panel. Following the same method with the bed, he melted the steel. Without ceremony he tossed the warped vent behind him and grabbed the edge of the hole to lift himself up. Too small to fit through but he peered through the gloom while listening. The vent shaft fell away into darkness with a sharp left turn. And the most he could hear was a heavy duty fan in the distance churning the air.
Jordan dropped back onto the bed with a tense frown. Nothing had been gained from that. He stepped off the bed and looked around the room in the hopes of something else standing out that he missed. A red light in his peripheral had him turning his head up towards it. In the far corner was a camera. Clearly placed to have a full view of the entire room. Creepy.
But he shoved the bed into that corner and got up to get a closer look. The camera was on and obviously recording. He waved a hand over the lens. Even with his orange edged vision he could tell that the thing was ancient. Like an old security camera.
“Hello?” Jordan knew there had to be someone on the other side. He didn’t get here on his own. “Can you hear me? Why am I here?” There had to be a reason behind this. Most people didn’t get kidnapped on a whim. “My name is Jordan Parrish, do you know who I am?” It wasn’t accusatory and he did his best to not sound demanding with his questions. “I work for Beacon Hills Police Department.”
There wasn’t a change. He licked his lips and stepped back from the camera. As frustrating as the situation was there was very little he seemed able to do about it. The next idea would be trying to burn through the walls. He didn’t know how thick they were or the material they were made of but he knew he was capable of it.
For the last couple months he had been practicing control of both himself and what came with the hellhound side of him. There had been many ruined clothes and warped walls but he liked to think he was getting better. The stone walls of the tunnels weren’t easily destroyed by fire but he knew he burned more than hot enough to melt heavy duty steel. Jordan shook out his arms and moved to press a hand to the wall with the vent. Taking a deep breath, he focused on the raging heat in his chest. Pulled it forth and poured it into where his palm touched the metal causing flames to flicker up from his hand towards his chest.
As the wall started to warp, he dug his clawed fingers into the scorching material. He pulled it away to see what was beneath the panel to find nothing but thick concrete. A low noise filled the room as he moved on to the next metal panel. Over and over he yanked down the molten steel as the heat and flames coming from him grew almost beyond his control. The hellhound within him was snarling against the cage around him. Each second that Jordan spent tearing down panels, the louder the beast grew and the less control he seemed to have. The fire was controlling him instead of the other way around. He pounded a closed fist against the concrete wall and bared his teeth at it.
Above him the camera crumpled and melted against the overwhelming heat. Jordan kicked the bed frame out of his way to continue his escape attempt, not noticing or caring that the entire thing was beginning to fall into itself with the bed in ashes. Scraps of steel littered the room. It was up in a blaze of raging orange and yellow. Burning close to blue and white the more concrete he found.
Then he found it. A panel in the middle of the last wall - opposite the ruined toilet - gave away to a hallway instead of concrete. Jordan stripped the entire sheet from the hydraulics it was attached to and threw it aside. The mechanism was smashed without much of a care as to what it was or how it worked. Bright fluorescent lights flickered when he stepped out of the room. Rolling heat knocked out the electrics and scorched the other cameras in the hall. Several doors with numbers sealed shut in an automatic response to a threat, shutting down the entire hallway. He didn’t notice.
White fog started to roll into the hall from unseen vents in the ceiling. It almost immediately put out the flames. Jordan jerked back from the immense cold and stumbled to get out of range. Lucidity returned to him at the same time that the temperature of the hall dropped to freezing and continued to fall. Frost crept up the warped metal walls as he wrapped his arms around his chest.
Shivering, he tried to push onward to reach the stairwell at the end of the hall. The frozen floor was painful on his bare feet and he was starting to lose feeling in his extremities. He knew getting too cold would kill a normal person but he had thought he might be able to handle it a touch better. That was not appearing to be the case. He could feel his muscles and joints locking up from the cold, the ice starting to fill his veins and his skin cracking. Brittle and frozen, Jordan managed another few steps towards the stairs before he could no longer carry on.
Chapter Text
“Jordan?” Lydia was less hesitant about calling out to the man than she was in the previous dream. The walls of the hotel hallway built up around her with the same flickering yellow lamplights that she was coming to despise. “Can you hear me?”
There wasn’t a sound around her. Silence was heavy. Fear had her skin prickling as she stepped up the thirteen numbered door. Her heart was in her throat as she reached out to the brass knob. Unlike the times before it was completely frozen. The hair on the back of her neck stood up on end and her shoulders started to draw in closer. It was far too cold. A shiver ran down her spine when she turned the knob.
Lydia pushed the door open to find a figure curled up in the center of the room. They had their knees pulled up to their chest with their head pressed to them, arms curled tight around themself. Inside the room there was a thin layer of frost and low hanging white fog over the floor. It started to leak out through the open door to touch her bare feet. The cold had her jumping. She had never felt anything that cold in her life, not even in the meat locker from a couple years ago. Shuddering, she pushed against the chill to step into the room. A layer of ice seemed to settle over her as she walked towards the huddled figure.
“Jordan?” Lydia kneeled in front of the nude man and barely brushed her fingers over his arm before jerking back. He was freezing. “Hey, can you hear me? I’m right here.” The cold had her throat start to close up. She gritted her teeth and reached out to shake his shoulders. “Jordan!”
“‘Dia?” The slow, quiet slur of Jordan’s voice had her dropping her head on top of his. Stiff, dark blond strands were entirely too cold against her forehead.
“Are you okay?” She rubbed her hands over his shoulders in the hopes of bringing some sort of warmth back to him. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes that she tried to push away. “Where are you right now? We’re looking for you, I promise, but we don’t know where to start.”
“S’cold.” Jordan didn’t move or show signs of even trying to. “Feels like ‘m dying.”
“You’re gonna be okay,” Lydia promised, moving her hands to cradle either side of his head. “We’ll find you.” She leaned back enough to force him to lift his head, chest filling with horror at the thin cracks crawling over his cheeks. Like cracked pottery. It had her looking down to find the same cracks covering every inch she could see. “You’re gonna be okay,” she repeated, rubbing her thumbs over his cheeks, “you’re not dying.”
Green eyes fluttered open with a startling amount of clarity in them. “It’s too cold,” Jordan said, leaning into her hands. “Below freezing.” Lydia could feel the heavy chill of the room and shuddered at the thought of how cold it truly was wherever Jordan was being held. “I don’t think that I can survive for long like this.”
“We won’t let anything happen to you.” Lydia wouldn’t be able to move on if something happened to him. “We will find you, Jordan, I promise.”
“How?” The shadows that filled his eyes broke her heart. “I don’t know where I am, Lydia. I-I burned down the room I was locked in and now I’m…” Finally there was a shiver that ran through the man. A sign of some sort of warmth coming back. “I can’t…”
“Do not give up,” she said, lifting his head when he tried to lower it, “not this soon.” The tears in her eyes made another appearance as she put their foreheads together. “It’s not over.”
The rush of heat as she woke up did nothing for the frozen core in her chest. Lydia stared up at her dark ceiling with hot tears making streaks down her cheeks. Choking down the sob that tried to climb out her throat, she turned on her side to bury her face into the pillow. Before this the space around her heart had been buzzing with pleasant warmth from where the banshee in her was bound to the hellhound in Jordan. It had never been cold in the last two and a half years that she noticed it.
She didn’t know how much of the dream was truly her and Jordan speaking but she knew deep in her being that he was dying. Cold and frozen somewhere she couldn’t reach. It held her in a vice grip for the rest of the night, watching the sunrise through her window. A text from Scott finally got her moving and getting dressed. They were going to find Jordan.
But it had been a week and they were no closer to when they started. The last few dreams Lydia had had ended long before she was able to get through to Jordan in that room. Sometimes it was ablaze and others it was frozen over. In her chest she could feel the constant back and forth of raging heat and icing cold that was affecting him. In her heart she knew someone was doing this to him, torturing him and bringing him too close to death’s door for her comfort. Even the dreams were beginning to reflect the imbalance.
“Jordan!” She screamed his name in the hopes of reaching him through the flames. They licked out the doorway to scorch the walls and forced her to back away to avoid being burned. “Jordan!”
A rumbling snarl from inside the room had her covering her ears. It wasn’t loud but the frequency of it had her head splitting. Despite it being an answering call to her screams there was no way to tell what Jordan was trying to say. Lydia fell back against the opposite wall and slid to the floor with her arms around her head. The scream on the tip of her tongue wasn’t in the form of his name.
She choked on it as a second wave of fire woke her. He was swinging on a pendulum between what he could handle and what the hellhound part of him could. It wasn’t something she could put into words but she knew it was true. Whatever was happening to Jordan would break him apart if they didn’t find him soon.
Late in the night fires sprung up on the reservation. Liam and Scott had been out checking the old burnt clearings in the hopes of finding something they missed. It was a school night but Liam knew sleep could wait. He didn’t know Parrish all that well and he knew Scott didn’t either, but the deputy was one of them. Maybe not part of the Pack but adjacent to it. Running alongside them like some sort of guardian, keeping them out of trouble both in and outside the law. Or, at least, him.
Over the last couple months he had been struggling to control his anger and transformations that led to him spending a lot of nights out on the reservation. More than once he’d had the cops called on him. And each time it was Parrish that showed up to either corral him back into the forest or bring him back to himself. Always with a commanding but gentle tone and guiding hand. Liam didn’t understand how he did it or even why but he was less afraid of what he might do in the night when he knew someone would be there.
At first it had been Scott but he knew the Alpha was leaving Beacon Hills. He had been trying to figure things out on his own for when the older boy was gone and was failing just as hard. He needed to learn to control himself because at some point he would be out in the world on his own without someone to bring him back. The nights on the reservation didn’t start getting easier until Parrish showed up. Neither of them were exactly experts in control but the deputy had been sharing all he had learned. It had actually been helping. He felt more stable and calm with what he had learned form Parrish.
Liam wasn’t quite sure why he got the sense that Parrish was always out when he needed help but it was impossible to shake. The deputy had protected him from himself and the law several times over the last couple months. He was a Guardian, Liam knew it in the same way he knew Scott was an Alpha. An inherent feeling that struck every time he met the man. The lack of Parrish in Beacon Hills was something he could almost physically feel on his skin. Like a shield had been taken away or protective blanket being lifted. It wasn’t something he had mentioned to anyone but he could see that he wasn’t the only one that could feel it. Everyone seemed more on edge.
And that didn’t account for Lydia. She was jumpy and pale and Liam feared she might pass out at any moment. Despite asking, she hadn’t told them anything about what was happening to her. All she would say was that Parrish was being hurt. He hadn’t understood how she knew that until she explained how she and the deputy were connected through their supernatural parts. It had been something he had been turning over in his head for the last couple days in between worrying about her.
“Do you smell that?” Scott’s voice had Liam lifting his head from the burnt grass he was trying to catch a scent from.
“Other than ash and smoke?” He asked in return while getting to his feet.
“Yes, there’s that,” the Alpha gave him a look, “but the smoke is thicker, fresher than the scent hanging around here. Like another fire had been started.”
Liam furrowed his brow and lifted his nose towards the dark sky. Taking a deep breath, he found exactly what Scott was talking about. The acrid scent of burning wood. It was sharp and stinging, enough to have him rubbing his nose. He opened his mouth to say something but found his attention drawn to a flicker of light through the trees. Across the fifteen foot clearing and between some lightly packed trees there was an orange light.
“Uh, Scott?” Liam pointed towards the light when the boy turned to him. “Does that look like a fire to you?”
“What the…” Scott walked away from him towards the edge of the clearing, closer to the flickering light. “We should move. Right now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. Liam sprinted to the far edge of the clearing with Scott on his heels. Not a moment too late as the entire area burst into flames behind them. Heat licked at his back and smoke stung his throat. He fell against a tree and turned around to watch the thick flames rise at least six or seven feet into the air. A wall of raging orange. Sweat beaded on his forehead from the intense warmth.
“Is Parrish doing this?” He asked, looking at Scott for answers even though he knew the other boy wouldn’t have them.
“I think so,” Scott answered. “We should check out the other areas. They might be in flames too.”
“That other light looked too close to be one of the other clearings.” Liam wouldn’t claim to be a math genius but he was decent at the subject. Enough to know that the first light he spotted was far closer than the next clearing marked on their map. Maybe twenty feet from them. “I think there are other fires being started.”
“Alright,” the Alpha agreed with a nod. “We’re outside the ring,” Scott turned to him, “let’s go in opposite directions around and meet up on the other side. We’ll be able to tell if more fires have sprung up.”
“Should we call the Sheriff?”
“Not yet.”
As Liam traveled along the outside of the ring he found that it truly was more like a ring than before. By the time he met with Scott on the other side he had walked past three new fires than the first ones he had seen. It was the same with Scott. The Nemeton was nearly cut off by a ring of thirteen fires. There was still enough space between the fires to reach the stump if one knew where they were going but the heat was almost unbearable. Evening standing a good twenty feet away it was scorching.
Without a doubt it was the cause of something supernatural and they knew it had be Parrish. Liam was quick to dip out of the forest when he heard footsteps coming towards the fires and voices. He knew it was the police and he didn’t want to get caught there. Scott didn’t follow but he knew the Alpha could handle talking with the officers better than he could.
The next morning the fires were all over the news. Both because of how they were positioned and because they were still burning strong. Everyone was afraid of it starting a wildfire but they stayed contained to the same fifteen foot radius'. Liam went out to check on them after school with Mason and Corey. Against his better judgement, he decided to see if there was something up with the Nemeton. Admittedly, he didn’t know much about it but from what he had been told it was likely better to make sure it wasn’t on fire than to assume it was fine. Corey tried to ward him off and begrudgingly followed him and Mason through the fires.
Through thick smoke that hung over their heads and intense heat, they stepped into the open clearing. All of the leaves on the trees were shriveled with the heat and parts of the bark were blackening. But in the center of the clearing was what really caught his attention. The large stump was glowing. Each ring was lit up with orange embers and nasty looking cracks were blooming along the small portion of the trunk left. Reaching the ground where the grass had been reduced to ashes.
“Call Scott,” Liam ordered while walking towards the Nemeton.
“Be careful,” Corey warned.
He ignored the worry and crouched in front of one of the spreading cracks. Peering inside he was able to see the crawling embers burning through the wood. Eating it from the inside out. Liam only hesitated for a moment before reaching out to touch the warm stump. The heat coated his fingers and crawled through his palm and up his arm to reach his chest. It wasn’t hot in the typical sense but it was all-consuming. He curled his fingers against the hardwood and gritted his teeth.
The near overwhelming sense of familiarity had Liam squeezing his eyes shut and tucking his chin to his chest. It was Parrish. His scent was everywhere along with fear. Filling his nose and twisting his mind around in gray smoke. Red-hot barbs dug into him. Curling and clawing for hold in his chest. For a single moment he was sure the fear shifted to something easier to understand as fierce protectiveness. Bright and golden against his senses. Then it was bursting like fireworks behind his eyes and the vice hold on him disappeared. Gasping and panting, he leaned heavier on the Nemeton to catch his breath.
Knowing that this was a thing full of magic and feeling it turned out to be two different things. It was still clinging to his skin like a thick blanket. Warmth seeped through him to his core. Liam could almost swear there was a comforting presence to it as he truly came back to himself. Like a helping hand. He took in a deep breath before opening his eyes to the still glowing stump in front of his face.
“Liam?” Mason came up at his side and put a hesitant hand on his shoulder. Before quickly withdrawing it with a hiss of pain. “You’re burning up.”
“I…I feel fine,” he said. A little out of sorts but he felt like himself. “What’d Scott have to say?”
“Not much,” his best friend sighed. “He said we’d all have to keep an eye on it and that he was going to talk to Dr. Deaton.”
“Alright…”
“You sure you’re fine?”
Liam got to his feet and shook out his hand. It was still way too hot in the clearing but he felt more acclimated to it than before. “Yeah, perfect,” he said, giving Mason a reassuring grin. “Sweating like nothing else though. We’re all starting to smell.” Both Mason and Corey rolled their eyes but didn’t push him on what he had been doing.
Chapter Text
The room he woke up in was nearly identical to the first. Jordan snapped the leather cuffs without a thought of being gentle with them. Each snap had prickling anger crawling through him. His muscles were sore and his joints stiff as he slid out of the bed, like he had been in the same position for hours or days. It had him carefully stretching to avoid hurting himself.
With an idea on where the door might be, he wasted little time in walking towards the panel and putting both hands on it. He had barely had time to gather the flames when the same white fog poured out of the vent. It had him backing away and to the opposite wall, climbing onto the bed to avoid it. Already the temperature was dropping well below comfortable. He tried to bring forth the eternal heat within but found himself hugging his knees close to preserve any warmth he could find.
Too cold to move and too frozen to truly process what he was seeing, Jordan watched the panel slide forward. It moved out to the left to reveal someone in dark blue scrubs with a medical grade mask over their face and a tray in their hands. He tried to catch a scent but the fog was sharp and cold in his nose. Nothing was said to him, in fact the person didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. The tray was set down in the middle of the room but his eyes remained trained on the person as they left the room. Only after the door closed did he look down at the tray. It looked like there was food on it.
The fog stopped pouring in the room and a fan started up in the vent. Within moments the remaining fog was gone. Jordan was still too cold to move and glared up at the camera in the corner. Whoever was doing this was sadistic. It was cruel and unethical.
After several minutes he was finally able to stretch out his legs and slowly climb out of the bed. As much as he loathed the idea of eating whatever that person had brought in, he would need to if he wanted a chance of escaping this place. There was no reason for them to poison him if they had gone through all the trouble of keeping him so he didn’t have to worry about that. He did have to be cautious about the food being laced with a sedative. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility considering how little time he had truly been awake in this place. Even if he didn’t know how long he had been here.
Time was blurred here. Jordan tried to keep track of when he awakened and fell asleep but it was nearly impossible. Between his escape attempts, the freezing fog, and whatever was put in his food he couldn’t reliably measure the time. It had to have been days, at least. The claw marks he put in the metal walls grew but the moment he tried to leave the fog would roll back in to put him out of commission for a few hours. Oftentimes it was enough to leave him blacking out. And the one time he decided to throw his all at burning the entire room to the ground around him the fog came through the vent heavier than ever before, and he woke up in an entirely different room.
It was a nightmare in this place. No matter what he did there was no escaping. He was constantly watched by the camera and when he tried to melt it, he was frozen again while another was put up. The fog made sure he wasn’t able to pick up on any scent to identify each person that came into the room and was beginning to think it was permanently ruining his sense of smell. The lack of sound was also maddening. He could only hear the fan in the vent when it kicked on and maybe the water in the pipes if he concentrated. Even the sound of his voice was growing odd in his ears when he spoke.
Jordan ran his fingers over the walls as he paced around the room. Claws randomly appearing to scratch against the metal to create some sort of noise to focus on. When he got caught on one of the earlier gouges in the metal he stopped. It was right beneath the camera. He dug into the rough metal and yanked it away from the concrete beneath. It had already been proven that he couldn’t get out through the door so he was going to try a different way. Breaking through concrete was well within his range.
The panel was ripped away to leave the gray concrete underneath exposed. It would likely hurt and shatter his knuckles but he had a feeling that trying to punch through the wall would be faster than using a piece of metal to scrape away at it. Jordan curled his right hand into a fist and with a deep breath punched the wall. It spider webbed with cracks. A stinging pain traveled up his arm but he ignored it to repeat the action. Over and over until his knuckles were bloody and chunks of concrete fell away. Red stained the white floor and gray stone as he smashed through the foot of concrete to find what was on the other side.
It was another metal panel. With a frustrated growl, Jordan pressed his broken hand against the steel and shoved. Fire flickered up his arms as he used both hands to break down the wall. Dust swirled around him. There was a quiet whimper from somewhere in front of him that brought him up short. On the other side of the wall was a room identical to his own with someone huddled in a ball on the bed.
“Oh.” Jordan tucked his bloody hands behind his back as the woman lifted her head. “I am so sorry, ma’am.” Black eyes watched him with obvious fear. It wasn’t hard to see that she might have been of Asian descent and for the first time since waking up in this place, he could smell something new. Spices and terror. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise.”
Something was said to him in a language he didn’t understand. The woman uncurled from her position as she spoke, hands waving up at something over his head. Jordan looked up to find a camera like in his room. A curse was on his tongue as he looked over his shoulder through the broken walls. There was a chill coming through with the white fog beginning to roll out of the vent on the opposite wall. He stepped fully into the woman’s room and ran his hand over the wall to his right. She was still speaking in that rapid language he didn’t know. It went ignored as he found the panel he was looking for.
A similar white fog started to pour from the vent above the woman’s bed as Jordan dug his claws into the panel. The fog was just beginning to reach his heels when he yanked open the door. He didn’t waste a second before running out into the hall. A single glance both ways let him find the stairs on his left. Guilt built up in his chest as he left the woman behind to race for the stairs. If he stepped back into that room he would be done for.
An alarm started to blare the moment his foot stepped up onto the first stair. After being in near complete silence for so long the noise grated on his ears and had him stumbling up the next few steps. Fire sprung up on his skin as he pushed himself upwards. Climbing higher and higher until he reached the door at the top. Jordan didn’t bother seeing if it was unlocked and simply kicked it down instead. Flames licked at the walls around him as he burst through the doorway into a different hallway. For a moment he paused at the ugly wallpaper and familiar look to a hotel. Then he was running past the doors for the turn at the end of the hall.
Smoke started to fill the hall behind him as he left fires. The turn in the hall only led to another stretch that looked the exact same to the one he just came out of. Jordan growled in frustration as he took off down this hall. Another turn at the end went in the other direction from the first. He turned to find the same wallpaper covered walls. The race of his heart had him taking a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Panicking wouldn’t get him anywhere. Instead of blinding running down the hall like before, he tested each door to see if one of them was open. Each and every door was unlocked but when he pulled them open all he found was concrete behind them. This entire place was fake.
Another hall down and Jordan slammed a closed fist into the door next to him. Burning anger was a mostly new feeling to him but it was bright and hot where it bubbled in his veins. Smoke filled the space around him with the rising flames scorching the walls. He didn’t know where to go from here. It felt like he was a rat in a damn maze.
“Jordan.” The whisper of his name had him looking around for a source. There was no one else with him. He searched the tiled ceiling for a speaker or something but he couldn’t find one. “Jordan.” It was no louder than before he was almost certain he knew that voice. Turning in a circle, he still couldn’t find a source and came to the conclusion that he was starting to hear things. “Cerberus.” The call of the hellhound had Jordan furrowing his brow in confusion. Fire burned along his skin with rising intensity as he rubbed at his ears. “Cerberus!” Louder and more clear than the three times before.
The last call of the hellhound’s name had Jordan stumbling back against the broken door. He clutched at his head as the sound echoed. Sliding down to the floor, he squeezed his eyes shut against the sudden splitting of his head. Pounding and pulling in different directions. A snarl built up in his chest as the beast rose at his name. The rise of Cerberus pulled him down into the dark that they shared together.
Lydia stared at the news program that had been playing on repeat for the last couple days. All over the world mysterious fires had sprung up. Thirteen and all in a ring. Seven different places across the globe with no discernable reason why or how. Any attempt to put them out had failed but they didn’t seem to be growing out of control in any way.
Each and every place was likely a Nemeton like in Beacon Hills. Deaton had been brought in for his expertise but even he couldn’t truly determine why this was happening. At most they knew Jordan had caused it and that meant there were other hellhounds around the world protecting their own places of power. If protecting was actually what they were doing. Liam had told them how it looked like the stump was burning from the inside out. Like the embers within were consuming it.
No one else had been out to check on it but Lydia was heading out with the wolves. Liam was twitchy and constantly looking over his shoulder while Scott had a stoic frown on his face. They were able to guide her through the burning ring with minimal issues. The heat was near unbearable and she was sweating through her shirt but no one had been burned. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her wrist as she stepped into the clearing with the glowing Nemeton. It looked exactly like Liam described and how she had seen it when Jordan touched it. Rings of orange embers but the sprawling cracks down the remaining trunk were new.
“Do you think you could get anything from it?” Scott asked, looking at her with clear brown eyes.
“I would know if he was dead,” she said while walking towards the stump, “but I can try.” She stopped in front of the Nemeton and hesitated before touching the edge of the wood. It was hot beneath her fingers. For a few moments she tried to listen or feel for something but there was nothing to be found. “No, there’s nothing here.”
“You’re connected to Parrish, right?” Liam asked, earning her attention. The junior was wringing his hands. “You-you managed to reach Mason and save him from the Beast last year. Maybe you could reach Parrish too.”
“I don’t know if it works like that.” Lydia hadn’t thought to try but she didn’t think Jordan was close enough to be affected by her scream. It was hard enough in her dreams to reach him.
“It wouldn’t hurt to try,” Scott said with an encouraging smile.
She shook out her arms and turned to face the Nemeton again. At first she simply tried screaming Jordan’s name like she had for Mason but nothing changed in or outside of her. With a hand pressed to the burning wood of the stump - not directly on the embers to avoid hurting herself - she tried again to the same result. Instead of giving up on the idea, she decided to change tactics. It wasn’t her and Jordan connected, it was the banshee and hellhound. Putting both hands on the Nemeton, she closed her eyes and focused on the fizzling warmth in her chest.
“Cerberus!” The contact with the power in the stump amplified her voice as she called out to the hellhound. It increased the heat around her and burned bright in the space where they were connected around her heart. “Cerberus!” A second scream of the name came with such an intense rise that it forced her eyes open.
The Nemeton was ablaze. Orange flames licked at the air through the rings but Lydia couldn’t feel the heat of them. She stared through them as a sound reached her ears. A low rumbling snarl. “Banshee.” The otherworldly scratch of Cerberus’ voice barely hit the air. “The Nemeton is under my protection. It will be consumed to be kept out of unworthy hands.” Crackling wood and the sharp scent of smoke surrounded her.
“Where are you?” She whispered, eyes trained on the flames as she pushed her hearing to listen for more.
“A maze.” The near silent fury had her wincing. “Of stone and metal that refuses to let me free.” A pop in the fire had her ducking her head to avoid the spray of sparks.
“Are you alone?”
“No.” Cerberus was snarling again in that frequency that was starting to give Lydia a headache. “We are all here. I can hear them in the rooms below.”
Lydia frowned. “All of whom?”
“Guardians of the Supernatural. Kin that protect the other Nemetons.”
“Is there anything you or Jordan can do to let us know where you are? Give us a signal somehow?”
The orange flames flickered before dying down. Lydia fell back from the Nemeton as ice started to crawl through her chest. One of the boys caught her when she stumbled, bringing them both to overheated ground. She stared in horror at the dimming glow in the cracks. It was being consumed by hellfire, actually and truly instead of something she suspected.
“Lydia? Are you alright?” Scott was kneeling in front of her with a hand reaching out to touch her arm. Which meant Liam was the one holding her to his chest. “What happened?”
“The Nemetons.” She curled her hands around Liam’s arms in an effort to ground herself. “They’re being burned away by the hellhounds.” The steady rise and fall of the chest pressed to her back calmed her racing heart. Scott frowned as he gently took her hands off Liam, holding them in a comforting but delicate manner. “Cerberus isn’t the only one that was taken. They all were.”
“Did he say by who or where they were?” Scott asked, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.
“He doesn’t know,” Lydia answered, “he said he’s in a maze.” Unable to help it, she leaned further into Liam as exhaustion hit her square in the face. “Stone and metal with rooms. I-I asked if he or Jordan could give us a sign for where they were.”
Scott nodded thoughtfully while shifting his hands to hold her forearms to tug her to her feet. The arms around her fell away as the Alpha pulled her up. Lydia rested against his chest as lightheadedness had the world swaying around her. Warmth surrounded her as Scott hugged her close. It did nothing against the ice filling her chest but it was comforting nonetheless. A nearly burning hand hesitantly touched her bare arm.
“Do you…do you think that someone wants the Nemetons?” Liam asked hesitantly. “Like the power or magic or whatever that they have? It would make sense why they’d take hellhounds, right?”
“It’s a good possibility,” Scott said. “We should get out of here.” He shifted his hold on her and Lydia stepped back from him. “We’ll meet up with Mr. Stilinski and call Stiles. All the eyes we can get on looking for a sign from Parrish will be better than just us.” The hot hand on her arm fell away as did the warm ones of Scott on her shoulders.
“I can get Mason and Corey,” Liam offered, almost eagerly. “Maybe Brett too.”
“I’ll call Malia,” Lydia said while doing her best to stand steady despite the fuzz in her head. “And Ethan. Both are in Europe and Jordan could be anywhere.” She prayed he wasn’t somewhere out of reach.
The vague plan was decided on before they were making their way back through the fire ring. Scott led the way while Liam walked at her side. Almost like an obedient puppy. Lydia caught each glance he sent her and felt the heat rolling off him just as much as the flames on either side of them. He was almost warmer than the fires. It was an oddity that she marked away to ask about later. All of the werewolves ran hot but not to the degree that she was feeling from Liam.
Chapter Text
“What kinda sign are we looking for?” Malia asked over the video call. At her side was, surprisingly, Isaac. Lydia should have suspected that Argent would get them in contact with each other.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Stiles spoke up with a sarcastic drawl, “maybe a large fire?”
“Wow, real helpful.” Isaac leaned over Malia’s shoulder to likely glare at Stiles’ screen. “Why didn’t we think of that? Maybe because things get set on fire all the fuckin’ time.”
“That’s not helping,” Scott said from next to her.
If she had known setting up a video call with all of the Pack - and extended Pack - was going to be this tiring she would have opted for individual calls. At least Corey, Mason, and Liam were smart enough to mute their mic if one of them was going to start something. Ethan and Jackson, more surprising than Isaac’s appearance, were bickering between themselves but one of them had turned the volume down so that they couldn’t really be heard. They would have asked Kira’s mom to get in contact with the girl but since she was still with the Skinwalkers it wasn’t much use. There had been a mention of Theo from Liam that was met with several withering glares. This was all of them since they couldn’t reach Derek and the adults had already been informed on the situation.
“It’s going to be big,” Lydia said, getting the conversation back on track. “National news at least. Jordan might not want to cause serious trouble but I know Cerberus has no issues with casualties.”
“Cerberus is the hellhound right?” Ethan asked, his mic volume back to normal.
“Yes,” she answered, “Cerberus is Jordan’s hellhound counterpart.”
“Why’re we looking for this guy again?” Jackson asked. He was at Ethan’s side with dim dawn light shining through the windows behind them.
“Because he’s missing?” Liam shot back before anyone else could open their mouths. “Why do you need another reason?”
“Who are these kids?”
Lydia pinched the bridge of her nose as Liam’s scathing retort was cut off by Corey muting their mic again. The juniors were once more talking over each other on their screen trying to reason with Liam and likely get him to calm down again. All of them had noticed his anger spiking more recently.
“Parrish is a friend of ours,” Scott said, deciding to answer Jackson’s questions despite Stiles rolling his eyes in time with Isaac. “And getting him back will probably put out the fires around the Nemeton.”
“That what the other fires are?” Isaac asked. “Other Nemetons set ablaze?”
“That’s what Cerberus said.”
“Right,” Stiles said, “we’re looking for really big fires or explosions. Likely with casualties. Are we in agreement?”
There were a few nods and words of agreement from everyone but Jackson. Lydia didn’t expect much from him. After a couple more minutes the call ended, leaving her and Scott in silence in her room. A comforting hand was put on her shoulder that she leaned into. It was starting to get late and she almost asked Scott to stay the night so she wouldn’t feel as alone as she did. But she let him leave without saying anything to stop him.
For the next few days everyone scoured the news for any signal from Cerberus and Jordan. The coverage of the fires around the world started to fall away as several disappeared as suddenly as they appeared. It had Lydia fearing the worst. One by one they were put out like dying candles. Liam had tentatively tried to talk to her about it but she couldn’t bring herself to truly voice what she knew had happened. Six out of the seven hellhounds protecting their Nemetons had died.
When the sixth ring had gone out in China, Lydia found Liam wringing his hands on her doorstep. Early Saturday morning right after her mother left on her usual walk around the block. He looked as exhausted as she felt. Without a word she stepped back to allow him inside and closed the door behind him. The juniors of the Pack had never been over to her house so Liam followed at her heels like the puppy he was. It was impossible to ignore the rolling heat coming off of him. If she didn’t know better she would think he had a fever. Which was impossible for werewolves unless wolfsbane was involved and the boy looked fine other than being tired.
She led him into the kitchen and pointed to the one of the stools at the island for him to sit on while she made two cups of coffee. Neither had yet to speak. Despite not knowing how, or if, Liam took his coffee she set a mug down in front of him. Lydia leaned on the counter while sipping her own, watching the morning birds through the large windows.
“Do you think we’ll find him?” The question was quiet and startled her from her own thoughts. Liam was staring into the full cup.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
“It feels like we’re running out of time,” he said without lifting his head.
“I didn’t know you and Jordan were close.” In fact, she had thought that Jordan didn’t interact with any of the Pack unless he had to. He stuck strictly to his work and seemingly nothing else.
Liam glanced up at her with a mild shrug. “Not really,” he said. “He’s just been helping me with my anger over the summer.” Clear sky blue eyes searched her face before dropping back to his coffee. “Scott won’t be here forever to help me gain control so I was trying to do it on my own. I got about as far as getting the cops called on me before Parrish was showing up.”
“He likes to help where he can,” Lydia agreed softly.
“I don’t really know him.” The junior turned the cup in his hands with a frown on his lips. “It’s like he shows up exactly when I need him then disappears when I have control over myself again.”
“Jordan does have a habit of taking off without a word.” Not so much now that he and Cerberus were in agreement but Lydia had witnessed more than once how Jordan would simply…wander after the things with the Wild Hunt. Or how he needed to be doing something all the time. “It’s not you. He does it to everyone.”
There was a snort from Liam. “It’s irritating,” he said while looking at her again.
“Yeah,” she agreed lightly, “a little bit.”
She lifted her cup to her lips while watching Liam do the same across the island from her. The boy truly did look exhausted. Dark circles sat under his eyes and his hair was messy around his face instead of pushed back like it usually was. Sympathy struck her in the chest. Her own nights were interrupted by nightmares of that stupid hotel hallway and not being able to reach Jordan so she knew what it was like to be losing sleep. Though she still wasn’t quite sure why Liam was this affected by the hellhound’s loss. Scott was a little weary and a lot worried but he seemed to be doing fine all things considered.
“Is Jordan your anchor?” Lydia asked before she could stop herself. It felt a little odd but also on the right track at the same time.
“What? No!” Liam jerked back with a sharp look thrown at her. “No, of course not!”
“They aren’t always romantic,” she said to defend herself.
“It’s not like that.” The Beta shook his head, another frown sliding into place. “There’s just this feeling I’ve got from him. Like how I just know that Scott’s an Alpha. It’s like a physical presence every time I’m near the guy.” Liam let go of his cup to run a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. “Parrish carries one too. Not like Scott’s but just as potent.”
“Okay,” Lydia said slowly, “what does Jordan feel like?”
“Like…a protector. A Guardian.” Blue eyes looked at her with something she hesitated to call unease in them. “It’s this blanket over everything when he’s around. It’s all over Beacon Hills.”
“Hellhounds are gatekeepers to the supernatural.”
There was a shake of Liam’s head in disagreement. “It’s more than that,” he said. “I can’t really describe it but I know everyone else is feeling the loss like we are. With Parrish gone Beacon Hills doesn’t…feel safe anymore.” Lydia winced at the appearance of claws on the marble countertop. “Like something is going to come in and, I don’t know, out us all.”
“That’s why you haven’t been sleeping.” She didn’t need confirmation but Liam gave her a small nod anyway. “Liam, Beacon Hills’ supernatural population has been a well kept secret long before Jordan showed up. That’s not going to change.”
“How do you know?”
“I guess I don’t,” she answered honestly, “but it seems more reasonable than unnecessary fear.”
A dirty look was given to her that she politely chose to ignore. Liam lifted his cup again and turned his glare on the counter top instead. Lydia set her own empty cup in the sink behind her before leaving the kitchen to grab her phone from her room. Just as her fingers closed around the device it lit up with a call. Ethan’s name came up then was quickly swiped away as she accepted the call.
“Found something,” Ethan said the moment she answered. “Science research facility in the English countryside. Caught fire a couple hours ago.”
“Is it on the news?” Lydia asked while skipping a few steps down the stairs.
“Probably not global yet,” he replied.
“Lydia?” Liam’s concerned call from the kitchen had her briefly peeking her head in to motion towards the living room.
“There’s not many details so far.” Ethan continued to talk as she fell onto the couch in front of her laptop with Liam quick to reach her side. “Entire place went up in flames at around three in the afternoon. Pretty close to the time that the sixth fire on the news went out.”
Lydia lifted her laptop lid and turned it on. “Casualties?” She set the phone to speaker before setting it on the coffee table to look up the explosion Ethan was talking about.
“Don’t know yet,” Ethan said, “but they’re estimating that everyone or close to everyone is dead.”
“Parrish’s a hellhound,” Liam cut in, “he can survive that.”
“Are you sure?”
“He survived his cruiser being set on fire with him in it. And that blew up too.”
The story she found covering the facility explosion was recently posted. Lydia skimmed it for any detail about the casualties or survivors but Ethan was right. It was too early to tell. The best they could do was spread the news to the rest of the Pack and keep a strict eye on everything unfolding.
When Jordan next opened his eyes it was to another dark, metal room. The frustration of the situation had him snapping the cuffs to cover his face as he groaned. He was losing his mind in this place. Something he loathed to call hopelessness flooded him as he dropped his hands to stare up at the metal ceiling. Being trapped like a caged animal was testing all the limits he had.
Nothing in the Army or police department trained him for something like this. He could kill a man in less than a minute, disarm a bomb in an active war zone, shoot a gun with deadly accuracy, but he wasn’t prepared to face a situation where he had little chance. Every attempt to escape landed him right back in the same place. The same metal walls and tiled floor that was slowly but surely driving him insane. No one to talk to or interact with, no sign of what was actually going on here, simply locked away and periodically dosed with what he guessed was something specifically designed for hellhounds.
Hope was easy to lose in a place like this. There was only so much trickery he could do to get out of this room. Jordan had run out of ideas. Even if he made it out again the entire space above this hell was a maze of horribly designed halls that led to nowhere. A concrete and steel hell.
Instead of getting up to pace like he usually did, Jordan rolled over in the bed to glare at the wall next to him. He was tired of this place. Without much thought he reached out a hand to the metal. It heated up beneath his palm until he was able to scrape away the red-hot, warping steel. The molten metal clung to his claws and fingers as he molded it. There was nothing else for him to do and he was beyond the point of boredom.
It was probably days before something changed. Cerberus was restless. Jordan could feel it picking at his own nerves and a ball of anger and irritation was building in his chest. Both of them were tired of this prison. ‘They are gone.’ The hellhound’s rumbling voice echoed in his mind as he sat with his back to the bed frame on the floor. ‘The others have abandoned their vessels.’ Others. The other hellhounds trapped in this prison with them. It wasn’t something he learned until Cerberus spoke of it.
“They’re dead then.” Jordan didn’t need confirmation when he knew that if Cerberus left he, too, would be dead afterwards.
‘Yes. I will not be fleeing like a coward as they have.’ The declaration wasn’t as comforting as it could have been. ‘They believe finding another vessel will save their Nemetons.’
“Will it not? We’re not doing much guarding stuck in this place.”
‘These humans are searching for the power,’ Cerberus snarled, somehow sounding like he was pacing. ‘They have found the locations through us and leaving them alive will be giving them what they wanted. A new vessel will not change what they already know.’
“You want to kill them.” Jordan couldn’t help glancing up at the camera in the corner. No doubt whoever was watching was listening in to the one-sided conversation. “I…I don’t think I can live with that.”
The snort from the hellhound had flames flickering over his hands. ‘You were a soldier,’ Cerberus said, ‘lives have been taken at your hands before. It will not break you to take more.’ Jordan tucked his hands under his arms as he narrowed his eyes at the wall opposite him, growing more irritated with each word spoken. ‘This is our mission. Lives will be lost in protecting the supernatural world. They will be struck down for what they are doing.’
“I became a soldier and officer to protect people,” Jordan snapped, “not needlessly take lives.”
‘If they are left alive,’ the hellhound edged closer to the surface, ‘those you care for will not be. The banshee, werewolves, chameleon, beast, and chimera will be wiped out without remorse. It is avoidable if we are to do what we’re meant to do.’
Kill to protect. Jordan knew he was more than capable of slipping into that mindset but he was never comfortable with himself afterwards. But it was either let these people that kidnapped him and the other hellhounds to get to the Nemetons live and risk the lives of everyone in Beacon Hills. Or he did what Cerberus wanted and likely brought this entire prison down on them all. It wasn’t about self-preservation anymore.
Nothing needed to be said for Cerberus to know what he decided. Jordan got to his feet and shook out his arms, relaxing enough to let the hellhound take full control. This wasn’t something he had enough experience in. The confidence he had in his own abilities withered when it came to what needed to be done in this case. Flame up and set things on fire, he could do that all day; blow up an entire building before he was put out, there was very little chance of that going correctly. He was more aware now when Cerberus was in control than he used to be but that didn’t mean he was used to watching things happen without conscious input.
It wasn’t a slow build up like Jordan did. No flickering flames and tentative stretching of new powers. Within seconds the room was engulfed in bright orange flames as the full transformation of the hellhound swept over. As the white fog started to fall from the vent there was a rolling wave of fire that caused it to evaporate. The rapid climbing and twisting of the flames balled together. He knew a bomb when he saw one. With no other activation device but himself.
When it was released there was a single moment of intense silence before everything exploded around him. Splintering metal and shattering concrete. Jordan didn’t know if he was capable of surviving an entire building being dropped on his head but he knew no human could. If he didn’t then his list of regrets in his life was low.
Chapter Text
It took four days before anyone found out more details about the research facility explosion. Stiles sent links out on the newest headline to the group chat and individual numbers of those not in the Pack chat. Lydia dropped everything when she heard the notification. Her packing for MIT had mostly been done but she needed to be doing something to keep her mind off of Jordan. It was all put on the back burner as she fell onto her bed to reach the phone.
The article had her heart racing. Several confirmed deaths with only one known survivor. Nothing in the article would say who it was but it did say that they were admitted to St. Thomas’ Hospital late last night. Reading that had her stomach dropping. Jordan should have been able to walk away from an explosion with minimal issues.
Messages flooded into the group chat. Mostly demanding that Ethan and Jackson get to that hospital to see if it was Jordan. There was a single message from Malia saying that she was getting a flight to London as soon as possible. Lydia didn’t waste a moment before calling her mom. She was going to London. It didn’t matter that MIT started in a week or that she had another plane to catch in three days. Nothing was going to stop her from finding out if it was Jordan in that hospital or at least being there to bring his body home if he was one of the dead.
Ethan had only met Deputy Parrish once or twice in all his time in Beacon Hills. From what he remembered he was a nice guy. It was part of the reason he agreed to visit St. Thomas to figure out if it had been him that survived the explosion. Jackson complained and grumbled at his side but trudged along anyway. His boyfriend was scrolling through the list of named deaths from the facility explosion and continuously pointed out the unidentified bodies on the list. There were at least eight and counting.
The hospital was buzzing with activity when they stepped inside. Nurses and doctors going about their business and patients waiting to be seen. Ethan ignored the heavy chemical smell of the place and went up to the front desk with a polite smile. The nurse behind the computer lifted her head.
“We’re sorry to bother you, ma’am,” he started, leaning on the desk, “but we’re here about the guy that was brought in from the research facility explosion.”
“It’s no bother,” she said, “we’ve had several people come in already asking.” She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a file. “No one has been able to identify him and he’s not able to tell us his name yet.”
“Maybe we can help you with that.”
“I can’t take you to see him but an officer got a picture for us.”
Ethan carefully took the photo from the nurse. The man in the picture was still soot covered despite efforts having been made to clean his pale skin. Dust clumped his hair and made it near impossible to tell the color. Jackson looked over his arm at it despite never having met Parrish in his life. It was a little hard to tell who it was beneath the ash, dust, and soot but Ethan was pretty sure it was the hellhound.
“His name’s Jordan Parrish,” Ethan said while handing the picture back to the woman, “he lives in Beacon Hills, California.”
“American?” The nurse turned the picture over before putting it back in the file it was taken from. “Do you know why he might have been at that facility? Is he one of the scientists?”
“He’s a deputy-”
“Look,” Jackson cut him off, “we don’t really know the guy.” The nurse turned her attention to him while Ethan rolled his eyes. “Some old friends told us he went missing a few weeks ago and asked us to check if this guy was him.”
“He’s from a missing person’s case?” The nurse asked almost skeptically.
Ethan dug an elbow into Jackson’s ribs to keep him from opening his big mouth again and screwing something up. “We’ll give you the number of the Beacon Hills Police Department so someone can contact them.” He waited for the nurse to set a sticky note pad and pen down before jotting down the number. “Now, can we see him? Our friends are really worried about him and want to know if he’s gonna be okay.”
There was a moment of hesitation before the nurse got the attention of someone else. A different nurse led them through the hospital to the second floor while asking medical questions about Parrish that neither of them had a hope of knowing the answers to. No, they didn’t know how old he was or his blood type. Or any past medical accidents or emergencies. Or if he was taking medication or had existing conditions like asthma. It was starting to irritate Jackson to the point that Ethan grabbed his wrist to stop him from snapping at the poor woman. When they were finally led into the room the nurse told them to not disturb the man before leaving them alone.
Ethan vaguely recognized the scent of the man from when he met him. He was covered in the heavy odor of fire and whatever soap that had been used to clean his skin of the soot. The man didn’t look all that injured. A couple bandages around his hands and butterfly stitches on his temple. Overall, Parrish looked perfectly fine. Which made it odd that he wasn’t awake when even werewolves could be conscious at this point.
“Well, we’ve seen him,” Jackson said while turning away from the bed, “let’s go home.”
“Sit down,” Ethan ordered without looking at him. “I’ll call Lydia.”
There was a grumble from his boyfriend before he fell into the chair next to the bed. Ethan pulled out his phone and called Lydia. As it rang he took in the rising scent of smoke. It was without a doubt coming from Parrish but nothing appeared to be smoking or on fire. He leaned in closer to try and figure it out when the call was picked up. He didn’t have a chance to get a word out before Lydia was asking about Parrish.
“It’s him,” Ethan said, cutting her off. “He looks fine but the nurses and doctors don’t know why he hasn’t woken up yet.”
“It might not be a medical problem,” Lydia said, switching gears from her questions. “Put me on speaker, I might be able to reach through to him.” It was an odd request but Ethan moved the phone away from his ear to do what she requested.
“Alright, you’re on speaker.”
“Jordan.” Lydia’s call of the man’s name had Jackson looking up from his own phone but nothing changed with Parrish. “Cerberus.”
The change in name had an almost immediate reaction. Ethan took a step back from the bed as blazing orange eyes opened and the scent of smoke burned sharper, stinging his nose and throat. There was a curious head tilt as the man in the bed looked at him then the phone in his hand. Without a word, he held it out.
“Banshee.” The otherworldly rumble of the man’s voice wasn’t what Ethan remembered it to be.
“Oh, that’s unsettling,” Jackson muttered.
“Is Jordan alright?” Lydia asked, completely ignoring how it clearly wasn’t Parrish speaking. She was probably more used to this than they ever could be.
“He is…upset,” the man said. There was an emotionless way that he spoke that had Ethan bristling. “Many that needed to die were taken care of and he must come to terms with that.”
“Jordan’s not a killer,” Lydia snapped, “and treating this like it’s no big deal isn’t going to help him.”
“Lives have been taken by his hands before,” Cerberus said, “and he knows why this had to be done.” Ethan didn’t have much of a say on murder when he’s killed people for less than something like kidnapping. Even Jackson was rather indifferent to the blood on both their hands. “He is a soldier and we have a mission to uphold.”
“He’s still only human.”
“Not any more.”
The moment the call ended with Ethan, Lydia was letting the Pack know that it was indeed Jordan that made it out of the explosion alive. She wasn’t happy with Cerberus’ callous reaction to all the death nor how he was handling Jordan’s situation. He might have been a soldier but that didn’t mean he dealt with killing someone any better than another person might. Let alone burying several people under a building on purpose. It made her skin crawl how the hellhound showed no remorse or sympathy for what Jordan was going through.
A flight had been booked for London that was leaving in a few hours so Lydia only had a short amount of time to get everything together. Not only her things but Jordan’s. He would need his passport and identification if he was ever going to get out of Europe without making a huge fuss with the American government. Mr. Stilinski was quick to hand over the items from the station with a word of caution. This wasn’t a simple situation.
While waiting for her plane, Lydia sat on the phone with her mom to get her flight for Massachusetts refunded or moved to another day. She could live with missing the first week of college if it meant getting Jordan home safe and sound. It wasn’t the same with her mom but this was her decision to make.
Almost eleven hours later she was in the passenger seat of Jackson’s car in London. He hadn’t been exactly forthcoming about providing a room for her at his flat nor for Malia but he complained about how Ethan ‘forced’ him to agree. Malia had arrived some hours before herself and was already tossing her things onto the bed that they were to be sharing. Lydia didn’t mind or care that they were in the same room. Both of them were there for Jordan. For her to get him home and Malia to likely make sure he was alright for herself.
The red-eye flight left her exhausted but Lydia got enough sleep on the plane to be awake to see Jordan. The hospital was buzzing in the middle of the afternoon as Jackson begrudgingly led her and Malia to the front desk. Where a nurse was quick to get someone else to speak to her about the deputy. Apparently he had been mum about anything that happened. She suspected Cerberus to still be fronting and was planning to have a word with him after she finished answering the doctor’s questions. Mainly about Jordan’s past medical history and connecting parts of the story together that Mr. Stilinski had apparently provided the hospital and police when they called Beacon Hills.
Officially Jordan Parrish had been missing for three and a half weeks, and was an open case of kidnapping until he had been found. No one knew what a science research facility was doing with him but the officers on the case were apparently looking into identifying the unknown bodies. Something about it maybe being unethical human experimentation. Lydia would rather push that story than what it actually was. Scientists that kidnapped hellhounds protecting Nemetons and killed them to somehow get the power they held.
When they were finally let into Jordan’s room Ethan was already inside. The two were in the middle of a card game. Lydia didn’t need more than his green eyes on her to know that it was him and not Cerberus in control. Tears pricked her eyes as she crossed the room to reach the bed. Where she fell on the edge and pulled him into a tight hug, burying her face into his shoulder to hide her tears. Warm, strong arms wrapped around her in return. There was a small tremble to the breath against her ear when Jordan dropped his head. Fingers curled into her jacket and the hug was almost too tight to be comfortable, but she refused to tell him so. They both needed this.
It was a long moment before she started to pull away from him. He tensed and tried for a split second to hold her closer but ultimately loosened his grip. She only pulled away far enough to take hold of his face in her hands and press a kiss to his hair, resting there in the warm familiarity. The shuddering breath that Jordan took in had her heart constricting. She didn’t truly know what he had been through but she did know that it would take time for him to come back to himself.
“He your boyfriend or something?” Jackson asked offhandedly from somewhere in the room. Lydia pulled back from Jordan to glare over her shoulder at where the blond was sitting on his phone in the windowsill.
“No, he’s not.” She turned back to Jordan and smoothed down his hair before sitting back on her heels. He was a little paler than usual but gave her a small smile. “We’re getting you home.”
“How soon?” Jordan asked, clearly ready to ditch the hospital and get back to Beacon Hills. “The food isn’t great here.”
“Soon as we get your discharge papers.”
Chapter Text
It would take another four days before Jordan was allowed to leave. Both the hospital and London. Well, he had been discharged the same day that she and Malia arrived but they had to get permission to take him back to Beacon Hills considering he was part of an ongoing investigation. Jackson hadn’t been happy about housing him as well. Lydia completely ignored all of his complaining and Jordan’s. Even Malia bared her teeth at the werewolf-kanima hybrid and likely would have snapped more than words at him if he pushed any harder.
The few nights that they stayed in the flat Jordan had tried to sleep on the couch in the living room but she wasn’t having it. Or, well, Malia had the habit of being blunt to the point of offending someone. Apparently Jordan reeked of anxiety each time that he was faced with the prospect of sleeping alone or was left alone for too long. He didn’t act any different and was clearly putting on a brave face. It didn’t stop Malia from catching his wrist and physically dragging him into their room.
“You have to know that this is inappropriate.” Jordan sat on the edge of the bed with his gaze politely elsewhere as Malia changed. Lydia rolled her eyes at him for what was becoming the hundredth time. He did something like this every night and three days of it was getting annoying even by her standards. “I’m perfectly fine sleeping in the living room or at least the floor.”
“Shut up,” Malia said.
“Malia-”
“Give it up,” Lydia said without looking up from her phone, “you’re sleeping in the bed, Jordan.”
“I really don’t feel comfortable with this arrangement.”
“If you were that uncomfortable,” she glanced over her phone at the man, “then you wouldn’t still be sitting in here.”
“I sleep with people all the time,” Malia said while climbing onto the bed.
Lydia watched the were-coyote grab Jordan’s shoulders and tug him back on the bed despite his helpless protests. The girl was dressed in only a sport’s bra and shorts but in the same vein, Jordan was only in sleep pants. He put off an intense amount of body heat during the night to the point that she questioned how he could sleep in clothes at all. She knew all of this did make him uncomfortable on a certain level but she also knew that he needed this. Something had happened during his time in that facility that had him subconsciously seeking out any physical presence. Like he needed to know at all times that he wasn’t alone.
There was a struggle from Malia to climb under the covers and keep Jordan pinned to the center of the bed between them. Lydia sent one last text to the group chat before setting her phone on the nightstand. For a single moment she watched the were-coyote drop her head onto the hellhound’s shoulder with her arm over his chest in a likely attempt to soak in the heat. Jordan gave her a pleading look that she completely ignored to shut off the bedside lamp. Malia’s hand patted at her arm when she slid down in the bed that she knocked away to sleep on her right side, face almost pressed into Jordan’s skin. He shifted in the bed to pull his arm out and set it across the pillows with an annoyed sigh.
“Quit moving,” Malia mumbled, fingers curling into Lydia’s night shirt. “Just go to sleep.”
For a moment she thought Jordan would open his mouth to protest again but all he did was tentatively brush through her hair. Even without the keen sense of the others, Lydia could tell that he was calming and relaxing. The steady rise and fall of his chest brought her a source of comfort. Simply knowing that he was actually there and alive. It made it easy to fall asleep with the sound of Malia’s and Jordan’s soft breathing.
The morning of their flight to Beacon Hills was full of separating Malia’s things from her own and confirming the girl’s own flight back to Paris the next day. Ethan was at work which left an annoyed Jackson to do the driving again. Their bed had been made by Jordan despite Malia’s logic of her sleeping in it again before he disappeared to take a shower. Another thing that had Malia trotting behind him with a joyful bounce to her step. Lydia had listened to her argue with Jordan about having showered with Stiles before that it was more efficient while packing both of their bags. The girl was sent back out of the bathroom with a pout on her lips and mutter about personal space being bullshit.
Jordan’s hair was still wet when they left the flat. Lydia had showered the night before and she knew Malia would likely be showering after Jackson dragged her back from the airport. They left the pair at check-in with the girl yanking Jordan into a tight hug quickly followed by herself. It was nice and she knew the deputy appreciated it as much as she did.
Unsurprisingly, Jordan slept most of the flight. He was clearly still exhausted from what he had been through and done to bring down an entire building despite brushing it aside. She worried for him but there was nothing she could truly do for him. It would be hard to leave Beacon Hills in a few days for MIT when Jordan was finally home but she couldn’t put it off for much longer. In fact, only the juniors would be left of the Pack by the middle of September. Scott had his own college to start and had been putting it off like she had been to find Jordan. They had looked and worried for almost a month and now that he was finally home, they had to leave.
But she didn’t think she had to worry all that much. Scott was there to pick them up at the airport and didn’t bring them to their own places. Jordan opened his mouth to ask what was going on when Stiles’ jeep carried on towards the reservation. There was still smoke rising into the sky, painting it gray over the setting sun. A guilty look settled on the hellhound’s face at the sight of it. It didn’t disappear even after Scott parked behind Mason’s car on the road.
“Who all’s out here?” Jordan asked as they all climbed out of the jeep. Lydia knew Mason’s car along with Mr. Stilinski’s and Scott’s motorbike, though she didn’t know who had driven it.
“We all wanted to welcome you home,” Scott said as he led them past the cars, “and the Nemeton is still on fire. This seemed like the best idea.”
“Ah.”
They traveled the familiar path to the raging fires. Lydia caught Jordan’s hand on the walk and laced their fingers in an offer of comfort. A small, grateful smile was given to her for the effort. It dimmed a little at the first glimpse of flames through the trees. She squeezed his hand before letting go when they reached the gathered Pack. There was no point in announcing themselves when Liam broke away from Mason and Corey to nearly trip over a branch or two on his way to Jordan. The Beta slammed into the hellhound with enough force to knock him back a step.
“It’s great that you’re back, man,” Liam said with a heavy pat to Jordan’s shoulders.
“Having trouble with the law again?” The wry question had Lydia covering her grin and Liam pulling back from Jordan with a scowl.
“No.” Liam’s offended reply got a soft laugh from the deputy. The first Lydia had heard from him.
“It’s alright,” Jordan said softly while setting a hand on Liam’s shoulder and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “I’m not going anywhere again. I’ll always be in Beacon Hills.”
“How did you…”
Lydia had to strain her ears to catch what they were saying but had a fuzzy warmth curling in her chest. “When you touched the Nemeton,” Jordan was whispering, “Cerberus knew. We’re supposed to guard this place. That includes everyone here.” There was something so gentle about how he was being with the boy’s fears that she could almost feel his relief. “This is never going to happen again. You have my word.”
“I don’t think you can make that promise,” Liam muttered while crossing his arms.
“I already did.”
Jordan pulled away from the junior and after getting a nod from him, he looked at her. She gave him an encouraging smile and tilted her head to where the rest of the Pack was waiting for him. They were there to see him and make sure he was alright. Liam came up to her side while Jordan walked towards the others. It was Mr. Stilinski that next pulled the hellhound into a tight hug followed by Corey and Mason welcoming him home.
A few minutes later Jordan broke away from them all to face the rising wall of flames blocking the Nemeton. Lydia winced at the orange fire burning through his shirt as he stepped up to the edge of the ring. Cracks ran down his spine with living embers within and spread over his shoulders. The hellhound coming out to clean up the mess. She didn’t know if it was Cerberus or not but a sweep of his arm had the wall of flames dying. All of the flickering light through the trees disappeared. There was an antsy shift from Liam at her side before both of them were following the man with the rest of the Pack on their heels. He was heading straight for the Nemeton.
Smoke trailed him and ash was kicked up by all of them. It swirled at their feet in the light of the setting sun. When they reached the Nemeton it was impossible to miss out it was still glowing. Jordan stepped up to the stump and leaned down to place both hands on the edge, causing the rings to flare brighter. Lydia held her breath as she waited for something to happen. But to her surprise all there was was the dimming of the embers and sealing of the cracks put in the wood and ground. Slowly but surely the Nemeton returned to its normal state.
“Is it over?” Corey asked, looking at Mason then Scott.
“Don’t be a fool,” Cerberus said. His voice startled the juniors and even Mr. Stilinski frowned at the hellhound’s back. “This was merely one attempt at gaining the Nemeton’s power.” Blazing orange eyes flicked between them when he turned around. “There will be others in the future.”
“How many people are going to die to protect this place?” Scott asked with a deep frown. “Wouldn’t completely burning it away be the safer option?”
“As many that are willing to take what is not theirs.” The ancient scratch of the hellhound’s voice had more than one person bristling. “The Nemeton is a conduit for power. Burning it away would simply disperse the magic within elsewhere. In potentially more dangerous areas.” There was a head tilt from Cerberus as he watched them. “Beacon Hills is a single resting place out of many and I will move on when something else of bigger importance to my mission comes.”
“And Jordan?” Lydia already knew in her heart how the hellhound felt about his human counterpart. “This is his home and he has a life outside of protecting this place.”
The ember bright eyes focused on her. Intently searing through to her soul. “He is home,” Cerberus said, “and here he shall remain if I am called elsewhere.” She didn’t know if anyone else knew what that meant but it twisted her heart. “For now, we remain.”
There would be no telling for how long though. Lydia knew that Cerberus would drop Jordan the moment he was needed someplace else and the human stopped being useful. It broke her heart to know that at any moment he could be left for dead. But as she watched the hellhound recede and Jordan return, she knew that he was safe for now. That he was home and returned to the Pack.
KHarmon0516 on Chapter 5 Wed 03 Apr 2024 05:48PM UTC
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Gozzer on Chapter 5 Thu 04 Apr 2024 03:37AM UTC
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