Seventeen

HOSPITALS MEANT DIFFERENT THINGS TO DIFFERENT PEOPLE.

For some, it was an environment for healing and the birthplace of new life every day. For others, hospitals reeked of rubbing alcohol and brought horrible memories the moment they stepped inside. Stiles, who had been inside Beacon Hills Memorial on multiple occasions, resonated with the latter over the former.

From the death of his mother and Sierra's scare with Peter to the MRI he went through last winter, Stiles hated hospitals with all of his heart.

And yet, here he stood once again because another loved one got injured.

Stiles knew his dad wasn't the intended target of Haigh in his struggle against Parrish, but frankly he didn't care. Bills were still piling up from the last time he was admitted and now more hundreds of his dad's hard-earned dollars would be going right back to the hospital. All because Haigh lost control of his gun and shot Noah in the shoulder.

Stiles listened to the doctor intently, standing firm right next to his dad.

"Alright, Mr. Stilinski," the man started but Stiles cut him off.

"Sheriff."

The doctor looked at Stiles in surprise, but nodded as he corrected himself. "Sheriff Stilinski, I've got you scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning. Unfortunately, it's going to take a little digging to get that slug out of your shoulder."

"Yeah, it's fine," Noah brushed it off, focusing on the paperwork in front of him as he rested in the hospital bed. He caught the doctor's attention before he left, motioning him closer. "One more thing."

Stiles stepped back so Dr. Vandenburg could approach Noah, but still caught every word. "What's this part here?" Noah asked him quietly, motioning to a small paragraph.

"Patient responsibility," Dr. Vandenburg answered. "Parts of the procedure and hospital stay not covered by your insurance."

"Are those big parts?" Noah wondered in concern. "Expensive parts?"

Dr. Vandenburg offered him a small smile, replying, "That's between you and your insurance unfortunately." Changing the subject, he went on to say the morphine would hit Noah any minute. "Try to get some rest, Mr..." he advised, catching himself with Noah's title. "Sheriff."

The doctor excused himself politely then, Stiles remaining where he stood at the end of the bed. He bit on his nails, an old habit he hadn't managed to break.

Noah noticed this, glancing up from the papers. "Hey, stop that." Stiles did as he was told and dropped his fingers while Noah explained himself, "I was just curious about the terminology. We're not in any kind of dire straits."

Stiles let out a heavy breath, "I know about the bills, Dad." Instantly, Noah's face contorted into one of surprise and Stiles went on with a heavy heart. "I know about the collectors calling about Eichen House. I know about the advance from the department, about the credit cards...."

"Stiles," Noah squinted at his son. "Have you been going through my stuff?"

"Yeah, I go through all of your stuff," Stiles told the truth and then mumbled, "Especially when you keep things from me."

"I keep things from you because you don't need to know everything," Noah's voice hardened.

"Yes, I do," Stiles argued, matching his tone. "I have to know everything. How the hell else am I supposed to take care of you?"

"You're not supposed to take care of me!" Noah angrily snapped. "I'm the dad," he exclaimed, pointing to himself before switching it around. "You're the son. You get it? Dad. Son. I take care of you."

Stiles bit his tongue, not enjoying how the conversation escalated. He turned away from his dad to collapse in the chair near him, his mind flying a million thoughts with every second. Dragging his fingers over his mouth, Stiles cleared his throat before whispering, "We're supposed to take care of each other."

Noah's face softened and for a moment he was at a loss for words. After all, Stiles was right. Their relationship worked best when they were open and honest with each other. And for awhile, they told each other everything.

However, that day when that first bill came in and Noah didn't know how to pay it and put food on the table, he panicked. He stopped talking to his son.

And with the deadpool bringing in all these assassins and Stiles's relationship with Sierra on the line, Stiles didn't know where he could turn. So he stopped talking to his dad.

"Hey, we're going to be alright," Noah tried to reassure Stiles, but he wasn't buying it.

"How do you know, Dad?"

For the first time in weeks, Noah answered honestly. "I don't." Drowsiness caused his eyelids to wear down on him and he felt his body wanting him to rest as he said, "But the morphine's kicking in and, I'm not all that worried about anything right now." Noah chuckled, exhausted as he finally laid back against his pillow and fell asleep.

Stiles let out his own sigh, his nerves still making his knee bounce as he looked at his dad peacefully sleeping.

He caught himself before he started to bite his nails and mumbled under his breath, "But I am."

Stiles's body sunk into the chair the longer he stayed there and Stiles knew he needed to sleep too.

Twenty minutes later, he still fought with himself. His eyes felt heavy as he supported his head in his palm, leaning on the arm rest. However, a gentle knock on the door made him jump, his eyes springing open.

"I'm so sorry," a familiar voice apologized softly and Stiles instantly turned towards the door. Sierra stood there with guilt spreading across her face and her leather jacket around her shoulders. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Stiles raised to his feet, any ounce of tiredness slipping away the moment he saw her. "Hey," he greeted barely above a murmur.

Sierra tilted her head, confused by the way he stared at her but smiled, "Hey."

"What're, what're you doing here?" Stiles asked, too afraid to move closer. He didn't want her to step away from him like she did before.

"I wanted to see if he was okay," Sierra answered, motioning to the sleeping sheriff. "And I wanted to apologize for not coming sooner."

"Don't worry about it," Stiles waved his hand to dismiss her apology. "You and Lydia had to take care of Parrish, you know. Find out what he is and why he didn't burn in his car after being covered in gasoline. Actually, did y'all find out? What he is?"

Sierra bit back a smile, acknowledging his nervous ramble. "No, we did not," she answered with a quiet chuckle. "But Lydia told everyone about her grandmother and the new code of the deadpool."

"Does she know the cipher key?" Stiles questioned but Sierra shook her head.

"That's another reason why I'm here," she explained, uncomfortably shifting her weight between her feet. "Her grandmother didn't leave a cipher key. So, we were hoping that maybe you...um, you know, could help."

"Me?" Stiles looked at her in disbelief. "You want...my help?"

"I do." Sierra's eyes drifted back over to Noah and she added quickly, "But you don't have to, considering your dad and everything--"

"He's going to be knocked out for hours," Stiles interrupted, internally smacking himself for sounding too eager to go with her. "I mean, visiting hours are almost over so I'm free to, um, help."

"Great," Sierra nodded and turned around, walking out of the room. "Can we follow you to your house?"

"Yeah," Stiles followed her before realizing something. "Wait, why are we going to my house?"

"We have something you need to add to your crime board."

*^*^*^*^

Who knew figuring out one little word would drive Sierra insane.

She sat in Stiles's chair, her forehead pressed against the desk as Stiles continued listing off random words to break the cipher.

"I'm going to kill you," she groaned once he suggested it was Maddy's favorite fruit. The only thing more annoying than him at the moment was the sound of his empty printer, beeping to be refilled.

"At least I'm trying!" Stiles defended, holding his hands up. "How was I supposed to know it was going to take this long?"

"Both of you, stop," Lydia spoke up to end their bickering, which felt strange. Usually it was Sierra stopping her and Stiles from arguing. "And Stiles, if you're going to suggest words at least make them make sense."

"Okay, fine," Stiles rolled his eyes, pausing for a moment before he turned back to the girls he stood behind. "Try Maddy. It's got to be Maddy."

"Doesn't Maddy feel a little obvious as a cipher key?" Lydia inquired.

"Guarantee it's Maddy."

Lydia sighed, shaking her head as she typed in the name. And just like she thought, it didn't work.

"What about your name?" Stiles motioned to Lydia once he saw the error. "She left the code for you, right? So it's gotta be your name."

Lydia looked at Sierra, exasperated, but Sierra just shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to try."

Unfortunately, Lydia's name brought the same error. As did Natalie, Lydia's mom, and every other family member Stiles could think of in his brain. "Um," he drew a blank as Lydia pursed her lips. "Do you have any beloved family pets?"

"Oh, God," Lydia exhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of her nose to keep herself calm.

"We need to think outside the box," Sierra claimed, lifting her head at the sound of her phone beeping. Picking it up, she saw a text from Scott and sighed. "I gotta go."

Stiles looked at her in alarm, "What's wrong?"

"Scott is worried about Liam," Sierra explained, already standing up and grabbing her leather jacket. "Apparently, he's been extremely on edge."

"He's a fifteen year-old werewolf," Lydia commented, watching the way Stiles's face fell at Sierra's words. "Of course he's on edge."

"It doesn't hurt to check on him," Sierra reasoned after running a hand through her hair. "Plus, he kind of faced a Berserker head on the other day with Kira so I wanted to talk with him anyways. Are you good here?"

"We should be, yeah," Stiles nodded, glancing at Lydia, who agreed. "How are you getting to the school though? Jemma is using her car."

Sierra cursed under breath, "Crap. I completely forgot about that." A sudden idea made her face brighten and she looked back up at Stiles. "Can I borrow the jeep?"

"No," Stiles replied instantly. "You've never driven it by yourself without me in the passenger seat."

"But you taught me everything I need to know about driving stick," she pointed out, clasping her hands together. "Come on, you know I am a good driver."

"I don't know, Si," Stiles started off, quickly noticing the pout she formed on her lips. He sighed. "Fine. Because it's you, yeah, you can take the Jeep."

Sierra grinned, "Perfect! Thank you—I assume the keys are on the hook downstairs?"

"They always are," Stiles confirmed and Sierra smiled at him once more before turning on her heel to leave. Stiles called after her, "Please be careful!"

"Always am!" she shouted over her shoulder, not bothering to look behind her as she left his room.

"I respectfully disagree!" he yelled back. Stiles sighed again, turning back around to face Lydia, who stared at him with raised brows. Not understanding her, Stiles made a face of confusion. "What?"

"Just remind me again why you two are fighting right now?" Lydia asked genuinely, her chin resting against her knuckles.

"We're not fighting," Stiles grumbled as he walked back to where he had been standing. "She just wants some space."

"Oh, I see."

"I lied to her," Stiles admitted in shame and hung his head. "And I ruined everything. You know it, I know it, she knows it."

"Have you tried apologizing to her?"

"Of course I have!" Stiles exclaimed, his frustration about the situation bubbling over. "Every second I've had with her alone, I've tried to speak up. I've sent voicemails, texts, heck I even emailed her a few times. But she didn't answer. So, I'm doing what she told me to do. I'm giving her space."

"Now, I'm not an expert on relationships, but I've been in a few with some ups and downs," Lydia shared, not because she had to but because she cared. "And lying is something you and I both know Sierra can't stand. But Stiles, this one lie isn't going to break you two apart forever. You two are going to be okay."

"I don't know, Lyd," Stiles expressed his disbelief with a shake of his head. "I mean, you saw her in the vault. She wanted nothing to do with me."

Lydia looked at him knowingly and stated, "Just because she felt that way a week ago doesn't mean she feels that way now. Did you see her just now? She wasn't glaring at you. She wasn't mad."

"I'm sorry, did you not hear how she was going to kill me?"

Lydia scoffed at his excuse, "Stiles, I've heard her say that a million times before she found out about Malia. That's normal for her. And in case you didn't notice, she smiled at you."

"So?"

"Girls don't smile like that at people they want space from," Lydia told him seriously.

Stiles pursed his lips, still having trouble. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am sure!" Lydia rolled her eyes and stated finally, "When we figure this code out, you're talking to her. End of story."

"Has anyone ever said to your face how intimidating you are?"

"If they were intimidated by me, they wouldn't say it to my face."

"Touché."

*^*^*^*^

By the time Sierra arrived at the school, Scott informed her the lacrosse team meeting was over. He expressed his worry about Liam, who had jumped at every loud noise and looked beyond paranoid with every step he took.

"Have you talked with him since the night you died?" Sierra asked after she met up with him, matching his pace to walk down the upper hallway.

Scott shook his head, his hands grasping the straps to his backpack. "No, I didn't think about it, honestly. That day was just another day for us."

"But not for him," Sierra reminded Scott wisely as they turned a corner. "He's only fifteen, Scott. He hasn't been living life with us the past year and a half. This is all very new and scary to him. We can't force him to be involved if he doesn't want to be. Where did he even go anyways?"

"I saw him head downstairs," he informed her. "Main staircase."

"Did Coach say anything about the bonfire that I need to know about?" Sierra made conversation as they headed towards where Liam should be.

"Just that he was upset you and Stiles weren't at the meeting," Scott summed up Finstock's speech. "And that you and I have a responsibility to make sure our players don't get out of hand."

"Of course," Sierra rolled her eyes. "Not only do we have to make sure none of us die tonight, we have to make sure Greenburg and his fellow idiots aren't dumb enough to fall into a fire."

Scott chuckled at her annoyance, but did agree with her. Coach didn't know they already had a lot on their plate and Scott wished they could take a night off. Though, he wanted to be captain and he had responsibilities. This was just one of them.

They found Liam right where Scott thought he'd be, perched on one of the steps of the main staircase in the building. His head hung low, his lacrosse stick twisting in his hands. Yet, at the sound of Sierra and Scott approaching behind him, he jumped.

"Hey, buddy," Sierra greeted gently, offering him a warm smile. She sat on the step above him, Scott copying her position on Liam's other side.

Liam didn't say anything back, making the two exchange knowing glances. Scott tried next, softly patting Liam's shoulder. "Are you okay?"

Liam let out a small sigh and Sierra assured him, "We're right here if you want to talk. It doesn't matter what; we just wanna make sure you're alright."

Her words seemed to resonate with Liam as he finally met their gazes over his shoulder. He gulped, thinking about what had happened before he finally spoke. "Last night, my printer went off by itself," he shared, his brows furrowed still from confusion. "I couldn't turn it off. I hit the cancel button, but it just kept printing."

"Printing what?" Scott asked.

Instead of responding verbally, Liam shifted so he could take a folded piece of paper out of his pocket. He handed it over to Scott without saying a word. Sierra leaned over to see as Scott looked down, unfolding it.

Before either of them could react, they heard Coach shout from his office. "What the hell is this?"

The three scrambled to get off the stairs, Scott leading the way as they stopped in front of the doorway. Sierra's eyes widened at the sight. Paper littered the floor and no matter how many times Coach attempted to stop it, the printer just printed another copy.

Without bringing his attention to them, Scott grabbed a piece off the ground to see if it matched Liam's. To his horror, another copy of the deadpool gleamed back at him.

"Scott," Sierra whispered in warning, her eyes caught on a certain name.

"You see the difference?" Liam asked the two, his tone laced with fear.

"Derek's not on the list anymore," Scott observed, his worry about Derek dying setting in stone.

"And Liam's not worth three million anymore," Sierra gulped, and pointed to his name on the list. "It's eighteen now."

"Eighteen million dollars."

Sierra's phone ringing stopped Scott from replying, and the boys watched as she quickly answered it. "Stiles?" She paused, trying to understand the words he suddenly rushed out to her. "Yes, we saw the deadpool," she sighed. "It's printing everywhere now, even at school."

"How the hell is that even possible?" Stiles demanded, still standing in his room with Lydia. "On another note, we figured out the code."

"Really?" Sierra's ears perked. "What was it?"

"Ariel," Stiles answered. "Lydia used to read the Little Mermaid with her grandmother, who thought it was the perfect nickname for her."

Sierra glanced at Scott and Liam, who were listening to her conversation. "Okay, what kind of names were on the list?"

"None that we recognized. We're gonna take them to Parrish to see if he can look them up for us."

"That's good," Sierra nodded her head repeatedly, "That's good. Just text me updates okay? Scott and I have to go to the bonfire tonight but if you need us, just call."

"I'm sure we'll be fine," Stiles assured her. "And you have to text me updates too."

"Deal."

They two said their goodbyes and Sierra hung up her phone. "Well, what do we do now?" Liam asked, glancing between her and Scott.

"Now, we have each other's backs," Scott declared, Sierra agreeing with him. "We go to the bonfire but we keep an eye on one another."

"You know I really wish Coach wasn't making us go," Sierra complained, leading Scott to sigh as they started to walk together out of school.

"Me too, Sierra. Me too."

*^*^*^*^*

From: Batman<3

Deadpool was a bust. Headed to Eichen w/ Lyd to follow a lead

Sierra sighed at Stiles's text, but sent him a quick reply to tell him her location. She just arrived at the school with Scott, both of them standing at the edge of the courtyard.

Techno music blared from giant speakers with a DJ mixing the beats to keep everyone energized with fancy, bright, laser lights. Teenagers, whether from Beacon Hills or a neighboring school, almost filled up the entire space by dancing, red solo cups in their hands. And in the middle, stood a tornado of fire to represent their beloved Cyclone mascot.

Scott kept his hands in his jean's pockets and scanned the area before commenting, "Whose bright idea was to have open flames near drunk teenagers?"

"I don't know," Sierra shrugged her shoulders. "But at least they have some people watching over us. Look."

Scott followed her gaze to see tall, muscular security guards planted across the courtyard. All of them stood firm, watching the teenagers carefully. "Yeah, I guess that's one thing that's good."

They started walking through the grass, sticking together amidst the chaos. "Apparently, you didn't get the memo on dress code," Sierra told him, her eyes falling on a few lacrosse players.

"What do you mean?"

She pointed to them and said, "I think you were supposed to wear your jersey."

Scott looked down at his button down shirt and groaned, "That's just great."

"Oh, I don't think anyone is going to say anything," Sierra assured with a small laugh. "At least you're wearing black. I'm not wearing any of our school colors."

Maroon, black and white. Those were the colors that blurred most of the crowd together, and it made sense why. The bonfire was a tradition to kick off lacrosse season and acted as an event to showcase school pride.

In a simple, striped T-shirt styled romper, Sierra stood out. Part of her hair sat perfectly styled in a top knot, the rest falling around her shoulders while diamond studs filled her double-pierced ears.

"For some weird reason, I don't think anyone is going to say anything," Scott stole her words, making her laugh.

Except he focused more on some guys he didn't recognize, seeing the way they eyed his best friend. Scott glared at them, Sierra not even noticing as she tried to find familiar faces.

Scott wasn't dumb; he knew Sierra was a beautiful girl. Many people at school thought so. In fact, multiple guys wanted to date her. Before she started dating Stiles, Scott would always get asked if she was looking for a boyfriend. And because Stiles and her hadn't been seen at school together for a few days, the questions and rumors once again started to swirl.

"Come on," Scott spoke up suddenly, resting his hand on her back to gently push her forward. "Let's keep moving."

Confused, Sierra looked back over her shoulder. "Why? Is someone following us?"

"More like some idiots don't understand respect," Scott replied sharply, and Sierra tilted her head, but didn't question him further. She followed him down the hill as he questioned, "Let's be honest. Are any of our actual friends even here?"

"Probably not," Sierra told him honestly. "I mean, Stiles and Lydia are at Eichen. Kira is with her mom. The only one I'm not sure about is Malia; I know she was thinking about coming."

"Well, she definitely came," Scott stated, ironically spotting the werecoyote near the tree. "I found Malia."

Sierra sighed as her eyes landed on another familiar face by a picnic bench, "And I found Liam."

Scott looked down at her, offering a small smile. "What do you say, Sisi? Divide and conquer?"

"I guess we don't really have a choice," Sierra agreed, bumping her fist against the one he held out. Exchanging worried glances one last time, the duo parted ways, Scott noticing a silver flask in Malia's hand as he headed her way.

"Hey," he greeted loudly, to be heard over the music. "What're you doing here?"

"Getting drunk!" Malia answered, raising the flask as she danced to the beat playing. "What're you doing?"

Scott answered honestly, "Trying to make sure no one gets hurt."

"That sounds fun too."

Scott watched her take another swig and raised his eyebrows. "Look, I don't want to ruin your night," he started off seriously, "or anything, but we kind of can't get drunk. I think it has something to do with our healing, but trust me, I've tried. You're not gonna feel anything."

Malia didn't respond, choosing to continue dancing as if he wasn't even there. Scott sighed, "Malia, I just want to talk."

"Well, I just want to dance," she shot back.

"We had our reasons," Scott referred to the secret about Peter. "We didn't tell you about him—"

"To protect me," Malia interrupted with a nod. "I know, Scott. I already talked to Sierra about this. And Peter. And guess what Peter said next? That you were right." Malia noticed the shock flitting across his face. "Does that surprise you?"

"No, it makes me wonder what he wants," Scott honestly stated and glanced around to see Sierra talking to Liam, before he let out another breath. "Malia, we need to stay together. You talked to Sierra, right? She probably already told you the same thing. You, me, Sierra, Stiles--"

Malia interceded, "Can we not talk about Stiles, please? He hurt me and he hurt Sierra. I need time to come to terms with everything. If you want me to forgive him, give me tonight." She blinked, her body slightly swaying as she reiterated, "I just want to dance tonight, alright? And get drunk."

Malia went to walk away, but stumbled from a loss of footing. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Scott stretched his arms out to catch her before she fell. Giggles erupted from Malia's lips and Scott quickly realized, "You are drunk."

"Yep!" Malia hiccuped, a dopey smile on her face.

"But you can't be," Scott didn't believe it and he raised his head, hoping Sierra was having better luck with Liam. "That's not possible."

*^*^*^*^*

She wasn't.

When she arrived in front of him, he sat on the top of a picnic bench chugging a bottle Sierra knew wasn't filled with soda. "Well, you look like you're having fun," she commented, letting him know she was there.

Liam's head shot up. "Sierra?"

She forced a wide smile, waved her hand, "Hi, Liam."

Even though he wasn't discreet, Liam threw the bottle in his hand over his shoulder and acted like he hadn't had anything to drink. "Hey... hey, what's going on?"

Sierra crossed her arms over her stomach and tilted her head knowingly, "Really, bro?" Her eyes drifted to Mason, who avoided her eye contact as well after Liam bowed his head out of embarrassment.

"You know, there's many ways to have fun at parties without drinking underage."

"So you're telling me you've never had a drink before?" Liam raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"I have had a drink before," Sierra confirmed, moving closer towards them so she didn't have to talk as loud. "But I did it in a safe environment with people I trusted. Not like this, with strangers next to a fire of all things. It's your life though; if you want to drink here, drink."

Mason scrunched up his face, "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm not being serious," Sierra rolled her eyes before focusing on Liam. "Are you going to tell me what's really bugging you now or what?"

"Good luck with that," Mason snorted, raising to his feet. "I've been trying to get him to be honest with me for weeks." He motioned to a random area of the courtyard, "I'll be right back; I'm gonna get us some water."

"Thanks, Mason," Sierra smiled gratefully at him before he walked away. She took his seat on the bench, sitting sideways with one foot tucked under her knee. "Hey, you." She poked Liam's leg. "I wanna talk."

"I'm fine, Sierra," Liam muttered, avoiding her eyes.

"And your hostile tone tells me that you're not," Sierra retorted, making Liam scoff. Sierra's face fell from his reaction and she sighed, "Come on, bud. You gotta talk to me."

"I said I'm fine!" Liam abruptly stood in anger. Though as he took a step to stomp away from her, Liam practically crumbled to the grass. Sierra instantly was at his side, concerned as she helped him stand back up.

"What the hell?" Sierra wondered out loud, not understanding how he seemed so...drunk. "Hey, Liam," she called out to him gently, seeing the dazed look in his eyes as he swayed. "Liam!" She snapped her fingers to get him to look at her. "Focus!"

"What's wrong with him?" Mason asked worriedly, now with three bottles of water in his hand.

"I don't know, how much did he have to drink?" Sierra asked, setting Liam back on the picnic table to sit.

"Not enough to get him like this."

"Sierra!"

The girl whirled around at her name, her eyes widening from seeing Scott heading towards her with Malia's arm wrapped around his shoulder. "What the heck happened?" she demanded, but he didn't have an answer as she set their friend besides Liam.

"I don't know! All she had was vodka," Scott rushed out, and lowered his voice. "They can't get drunk, Sierra. How is this happening?"

"I'm not sure," Sierra replied, lifting her eyes to scan the area that surrounded them. Nothing seemed suspicious or out of the ordinary. It was just her classmates having a night of fun. Yet her gut told her something was up. "Scott, maybe--"

Scott interrupted her as he fell back into her, his vision suddenly blurring. "Whoa!" Mason exclaimed as Sierra caught Scott before he tumbled. "How much did you drink, Scott?"

"Nothing," he stated, wincing as another wave of pain struck him. He looked at Sierra with panic in his eyes. "Not even a sip, Sierra."

"Then it's not the drinks, it has to be something else," Sierra concluded, helping him over to the picnic table so he could lean on it.

The pair racked their brains for anything that they came into contact with but Scott could barely concentrate with the music pounding in his ears. Focusing on the techno beats, Scott's eyes widened in realization. "Sierra," Scott forced himself to stand despite everything being a blur. "It's not the drinks; it's the music."

"The music?" Sierra echoed in confusion, tuning her ears in to listen. "How come I'm not affected by it?"

"Let's just count that as a win," Scott brushed off her question. "We need to shut it off."

"I can do it myself, Scott," she said, aware of his state. "It's safer for you to stay here."

Scott argued sternly, "No way, Si. I'm going with you. We don't separate anymore, remember?"

"I like how you only enforce that rule when I want to go somewhere alone," Sierra commented, but hoisted one of his arm's over her shoulder. Her eyes fell to the concerned freshman standing beside them. "Mason! I need you to keep an eye on Liam and Malia, okay? Scott and I need to turn off the music."

Mason didn't understand. "The music? Why--" He cut himself off at Sierra's worried eyes, choosing to nod instead. "Yeah, don't worry. I can watch them."

Sierra sighed gratefully, "Thank you. We'll be right back, okay? Don't let them out of your sight."

The pair started to push through the crowd, needing to get closer to the DJ booth. However, it seemed with every step, Scott fell weaker. He couldn't explain the pain in his ears, and Sierra tried to keep moving forward, but it didn't work.

The DJ, whomever they were, saw them coming. He smirked and turned the music up so loud, Scott stumbled out of Sierra's embrace. "Scott!" Sierra called his name, reaching out for him.

Unfortunately, due to the chaos of the dancing teenagers, people pushed at her every side and separated her from Scott. She couldn't see and she could barely move. Elbowing was the only way she moved forward.

But by the time she got back to where she had been, Scott was gone.

Sierra cursed under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest from the sudden situation. She shoved her way back to Mason; however, when she found him two lacrosse players were helping him off the ground. "What happened?" she rushed out.

"These security guards came over and told me Malia and Liam were dangerously intoxicated," Mason told her with a frown. "I tried to stop them, I promise--"

"No, no, no," Sierra recognized the guilt in his tone. "Mason, you're okay, alright? You're okay. Did you see where they took them?"

"No, they pushed me and then just disappeared."

"Okay," Sierra nodded, trying to think of plan. Her fingers shook before she remembered exactly what her mission with Scott had been. "We gotta turn off the music. Now."

Mason understood her hurry and motioned to the DJ booth. "There's gotta be a switch or something right?"

"Come on," Sierra grabbed his arm so he'd follow her. Once again, she pushed her way through the teenagers. Except this time, she didn't have any patience. She glared daggers into the eyes of the DJ and if there hadn't been a crowd of people, she would've blasted him all the way to Mars. He saw her coming like before, and turned up the music. But it didn't affect her in the slightest.

By the time she got to the speakers, Sierra was so angry she didn't hesitate to rip the main red cord out of its socket.

Instantly, the music shut off. The kids started yelling in protest but Sierra didn't care. She turned to Mason, "Hey, I'm going to inside to try to find them. You stay here until Scott, Liam or me finds you or texts you, got it?"

Mason gulped from the intensity of her tone, but he nodded. "Got it."

"Good."

Without another word, Sierra sprinted away from the courtyard. She headed towards the south side, knowing there was an easy set of double doors anyone could break into. If the security guards had needed to take her friends somewhere, it'd be the easiest place.

Swiftly kicking the lock with her foot, the doors swung open and Sierra ran inside. Much to her relief, Jemma, Derek and Braeden were already there knocking the phony guards off their feet. One random man came her way, trying to escape.

"Yeah, nice try," Sierra scoffed and flung her hand out in front of her. He screamed as he was launched across the hallway, collapsing on the tile floor. Sierra scowled as he tried to sit up, marching over in anger. Punching him straight in the jaw, his head fell back—him now fully unconscious.

Sierra smirked and lifted her head, seeing the other three men also down for the count.

Scott scrambled to get up, spitting out the gasoline he had been covered in. "What happened to the gun?" he asked Derek mockingly, even though he was full grateful for Derek and the girls's appearance.

Derek squinted, "You're covered in gasoline."

"Oh yeah."

"You know, this is why I never went to high school parties," Jemma commented, moving to stand in between Derek and Braeden with her hands on her hips. "Too much drama."

Derek snorted as he helped Scott to his feet, "Yeah, that's why you never went."

Jemma rolled her eyes but approached her sister's side to assist waking up Malia while Sierra shook Liam's shoulder. "Hey, bud," she offered him a smile once his eyes fluttered open. "How ya feeling?"

"Like I just got hit by a truck," Liam groaned, his hand flying up to hold his head. "What happened?"

"More people tried to kill you," Braeden answered from where she stood, shotgun in hand.

Sierra gave her a look of warning and turned back to Liam. "Come on, let's find Mason and we'll go back to Scott's house so you can change out of those clothes."

"Do you think he has any idea of what happened?"

"Not a clue."