This is the continuation of the last chapter Chapter 3: Revelations (Part 1)
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Meanwhile, At this moment, Javi and Stiles were in the woods, not far from where Dr. Langer's body had been discovered. The cold air bit at their skin, and the eerie silence of the forest only amplified the unease in the atmosphere as they made their way through the trees.
Stiles had parked the Jeep just outside the woods, a short walk from the suspected crime scene. The ground was damp beneath their feet, the air crisp with each breath they took. Javi adjusted his duffle bag as they moved carefully, eyes scanning the surroundings with practiced precision.
Stiles broke the silence, his voice low and tinged with doubt. "You really think there's something here, Javi? I mean, we've already checked this place out, but... I don't know. It's just weird."
Javi glanced at him, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp and focused. "It doesn't hurt to double-check. We know the body was found here. And we know the killer likely used a pulley system. We just need to find something—anything that links it all together."
Stiles nodded, but there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "It's just... we've already been over this. There's no sign of struggle, no drag marks, nothing. It's like we're chasing ghosts."
Javi didn't respond immediately. His eyes scanned the trees, the forest floor, every detail. After a long pause, he spoke, his tone calm and collected. "Sometimes you have to look at things from a different angle. We've been here before, but we weren't looking for the same thing. There could be something small... something we missed."
Stiles sighed, still skeptical but trusting in Javi's instincts. "Alright, I'll bite. But if we don't find anything here, can we go grab some pizza afterward? I'm starving."
Javi smirked, rolling his shoulders as he continued walking deeper into the woods. "Sure, pizza sounds good. But we're not leaving until we find something."
The two moved further into the woods, each step crunching in the quiet underbrush. Despite Stiles' occasional grumbling and distracted comments, Javi remained focused, his sharp eyes scanning for any trace of evidence that might have been overlooked.
Stiles broke the silence again, sounding more frustrated now. "Javi, are you sure we're going to find what we're looking for? The pulley system?"
Javi shot him a look, clearly unbothered by Stiles' impatience. "Sure do. Just be patient."
Stiles groaned, shaking his head. "Excuse me? That's the reason I'm hungry right now."
Javi chuckled, the tension in the air easing for a moment. "Alright, Mr. Impatient, I'm trying my best here."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Well, your best is taking too long."
Javi smirked. "And your complaining is making it go even slower."
Just as he said that, Javi tripped over something hidden in the underbrush and landed face-first into the dirt.
Stiles stifled a laugh, eyes widening in amusement. "Whoa, nice. Real graceful, Javi."
Javi groaned, pushing himself up and brushing off his clothes. "Oh, shut up. It was an accident."
But then, Stiles' eyes widened as he spotted something in the mess. "Wait... is that a rope?" He quickly grabbed it, and as he pulled, a long, concealed rope began to unfurl, revealing its full length.*
Javi, still recovering from his fall, looked at the rope with surprise. "Wait, where is that rope coming from?"
Stiles' gaze snapped to Javi, eyes gleaming with realization. "The well."
Javi blinked, stunned for a moment, before his face shifted to one of determination. "Let's check it out."
Stiles nodded, already moving toward the well. "Yeah, this could be the pulley system."
Javi's eyes scanned the area as they approached the well, his expression focused and calculating. "It makes sense—conveniently covered up with leaves. No wonder we missed it before."
Stiles couldn't resist flashing the flashlight over Javi with a smirk. "Thanks for tripping over the rope, we found it. But, uh… damn, you reek."
Javi groaned, swatting the flashlight away from his face with an exaggerated motion. "Shut up, okay? It could have happened to anyone."
Stiles couldn't help but grin, his voice teasing as he glanced back at Javi. "Yeah, but it happened to you."
THEN--
Stiles and Javi approached the well, carefully inspecting it in the dim light. The rope was still tied tightly, and the pulley system appeared to be intact, its handle resting just beside it. Javi crouched down to examine the mechanism, his eyes scanning every detail as Stiles shone the flashlight over the area.
Javi looked up at Stiles, his voice low and thoughtful. "This is it. The pulley system. It's exactly how we thought it would be." He touched the handle carefully, noting how well-maintained it seemed. "Whoever set this up knew what they were doing. It's too precise to be a mistake."
Stiles nodded, his expression a mix of intrigue and suspicion. "And it was hidden so well—covered by leaves and debris. Makes sense now. Whoever did this didn't want it to be found."
They both stood, taking a moment to look around the area. The trees around them were thick, their shadows deepening in the fading light. Just a short distance away, the spot where Dr. Langer's body had been discovered was visible, eerily quiet now. It felt like everything was falling into place, but they both knew the pieces still didn't add up completely.
Stiles squinted at the nearby crime scene. "So, if this was the mechanism used to move the body, where does that leave us? What's the connection between the well and the body?"
Javi's brow furrowed in concentration as he walked over to the spot where Dr. Langer had been found. He crouched down, studying the ground carefully. No drag marks, no signs of a struggle—nothing that screamed foul play except for the fact that the body had been left in such an unnatural position.
Javi stood up slowly, eyes still fixed on the ground as he spoke, more to himself than to Stiles. "The body wasn't just dropped here—it was placed. Carefully, almost methodically."
Stiles looked at him, confused. "But the well's right there. You think they used this to transport him? I mean, it doesn't explain the lack of struggle or anything else we've seen."
Javi shook his head, a thoughtful look crossing his features. "Not exactly. I think it's more about how they set it up to make it look like it was a natural scene. They didn't want anyone to know the body had been moved."
He stood up straighter, turning to face Stiles. "The key is the well and the rope. Whoever did this knew the area, knew how to cover their tracks. This wasn't a crime of opportunity. It was planned."
Stiles glanced back at the well, his expression darkening as he thought about the implications. "So, someone used the well to move the body here and make it look like he died naturally, but why?"
Javi looked at Stiles, his gaze sharp. "I don't know yet, but we're getting closer. We just need to find out who had access to this area and who knew about the pulley system."
The two exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them. They weren't done yet—they had just cracked open the mystery, and now they needed to uncover the rest of the story.
Stiles nodded, the weight of the situation settling in. "Alright. Let's head back to my dad, he's probably narrowed down the suspects by now. We need to fill him in."
Javi smirked, shaking his head as he kept his eyes focused on the well. "Who says we're going back? We're testing this out."
Stiles looked at him, eyes widening with disbelief. "What? Are you serious?"
Javi's expression remained serious, no sign of hesitation. "Yes, we need to do what the killer did. We need to test the pulley system. If we can reenact the crime, we'll know if the method actually works. It'll help us corner the killer."
Stiles' unease grew into full-blown confusion. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Wait, wait, wait. You want us to... reenact the murder? Here? Now?"
Javi nodded again, completely unbothered by Stiles' reaction. "Exactly. We need to see it for ourselves. We need a blanket or a mannequin and a new rope."
Stiles stared at him, his jaw slack with disbelief. "You're out of your mind. This is insane, Javi. We could get hurt, or worse!"
Javi shrugged nonchalantly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "What's the worst that could happen? We're already deep in it. If we can pull it off, we'll have proof the killer used the same system."
Stiles let out a frustrated sigh, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "Yeah, let's just go for it, because who doesn't want to reenact a murder, right? That's totally safe. What could possibly go wrong?"
Javi chuckled, unbothered by Stiles' sarcasm. "Don't worry, I won't trip over the rope this time. And by the way, talking to myself? Pure genius."
Stiles rolled his eyes, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, Sherlock. I'll go get the rope and a blanket. The blanket will be the victim, right?"
Javi gave him a brief nod, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Exactly. We need to recreate the crime as accurately as we can. If we get it right, we'll have the evidence we need to catch the killer."
Stiles sighed heavily, exasperated but realizing there was no stopping Javi once he got an idea in his head. "Fine. I'll go get the stuff. But if this blows up in our faces, I swear—"
Javi flashed him a confident smirk, cutting him off. "Relax. Think of this as one of our old pranks back in middle school. Just... with a little more danger and a lot less duct tape."
Stiles snorted, despite himself. He couldn't help but feel the adrenaline starting to surge in his veins. The whole plan was reckless, insane even, but it also felt like the kind of stupid idea that might actually work.
He shot Javi a sideways glance, unable to resist a grin. "You're an idiot, you know that?"
Javi just grinned back, unfazed. "Yeah, but you love me for it."
Stiles groaned but couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped. He shook his head in disbelief as he turned to head back toward the Jeep. "Yeah, I guess I do."
[One Eternity Later]
Stiles turned back, holding the bundle of supplies in his arms. He glanced over at Javi, who was still examining the well, clearly eager to proceed.
"Here we go," Stiles said, with a sigh, throwing the rope and blanket over his shoulder. "Let's get this over with."
But just as he was about to set the supplies down, Stiles' phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw it was his dad calling. He quickly answered.
"Dad?"
Sheriff Stilinski's voice crackled through the phone, his tone firm but calm. "Stiles, I've narrowed down the suspects. I need you and Javi to come back to the station. Now."
Stiles looked at Javi, who was watching him with raised eyebrows, clearly interested in the update. Stiles' expression softened slightly as he spoke into the phone again. "Alright, we're on our way. We'll be there in a few."
Javi, sensing the urgency, started to pack up the rope and blanket, though his expression remained focused. Stiles hung up the phone and looked at him.
"Looks like we've got a lead," Stiles said, his tone a mix of relief and frustration. "We need to head back. Let's go."
Javi gave him a quick nod, his determination still intact. They both headed back toward the Jeep, the weight of the case heavy on their minds as they prepared to face whatever new development Sheriff Stilinski had uncovered.
As they headed back to the hospital, the air was thick with anticipation and an underlying sense of urgency. Stiles and Javi exchanged a few glances during the ride, the words of the sheriff ringing in their ears. They were getting closer to cracking the case, and every second counted.
Stiles sighed, looking back at the blanket and the rope before glancing back at Javi. "You know what? I'm actually kind of excited to see how this will all turn out."
Javi, sensing Stiles' excitement, smirked. "Excited to see how our little reenactment pans out?"
Stiles shrugged, the excitement giving way to a more thoughtful tone. "Yeah, but unfortunately, Dad needs us back. He said he's narrowed down the suspects, so this could be the big break we've been waiting for."
Javi nodded in agreement, his expression serious but focused. "Yeah, I get it. Our investigation's on pause for now. But at least we're making progress. We're closer than we were this morning."
Stiles glanced at him, giving a quick, half-smile as the hospital loomed closer. "You're right. Let's see what Dad's got, then we'll pick up where we left off."
They drove in silence for a moment, both of them caught up in their thoughts as the night deepened, the mystery of Dr. Langer's death hanging heavily in the air.
When they arrived at the hospital, Stiles parked the Jeep, and both he and Javi made their way inside quickly. The urgency in the air was palpable. They had come so close, but they knew they needed to hear what Sheriff Stilinski had discovered.
As they entered the main area, Sheriff Stilinski looked up from a desk where he was sorting through some papers. His face was a mixture of frustration and resolve. "Stiles. Javi. Glad you're back."
Stiles glanced at Javi before focusing on his dad. "So, what's the verdict? You've narrowed down the suspects, right?"
Sheriff Stilinski nodded, pushing the papers aside and looking directly at Stiles. "Yeah. After all the interviews and digging, I'm pretty sure we have our top suspects. But there's something I need you both to know." He paused, taking a breath before continuing, his voice dropping slightly. "Javi, your theory about Dr. Langer having a lover—it's not true."
Javi's brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced at Stiles, then back to Sheriff Stilinski. "What do you mean? We thought the victim might have been involved with someone else."
The sheriff leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I know what you were thinking. But after checking into Dr. Langer's personal records and talking to a few more people, it turns out he didn't have any secret relationships. No affairs, nothing that would lead us in that direction."
Stiles looked between his dad and Javi, trying to process the shift in the investigation. His voice was hesitant. "So, that theory's off the table, but... what does that leave us with?"
The sheriff's expression hardened, the weight of the case pressing down on him. "That's what we're trying to figure out. But narrowing down our suspects is step one. We've got a few names, and now we need to dig deeper into their motives."
Stiles nodded, his mind racing. He turned to Javi, seeing the same mix of determination and frustration reflected in his face. "Guess our little reenactment will have to wait, huh?"
Javi shrugged, his tone calm but resolute. "Yeah. But we'll get there. I'm sure of it."
Sheriff Stilinski gave them both a firm nod, his eyes flickering with a hint of gratitude. "I know you two are itching to crack this case. But right now, I need you both focused on what's in front of us. There's no time to waste."
Javi met his gaze, his usual smirk replaced by a serious expression. "We're on it, Sheriff. Just... keep us in the loop."
Stiles clapped his hands together, breaking the tension with a sigh. "Alright. Let's figure this out. One step at a time."
This works well! It captures the dynamic between the characters and the tension of the situation. Here's a revised version with some additional flow:
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Javi and Stiles rejoined Scott in the hallway. Scott looked up, his expression expectant as he spoke.
"How did it go?"
Stiles shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed.
"Dad checked out the whole lover theory."
Javi nodded, a hint of disappointment in his voice, clearly having hoped for more from that lead.
"Yeah, no dice. No secret relationships. Just our own faulty assumptions."
Scott chuckled at the exchange.
"That's not what I meant... I mean, how did the second trip to the crime scene go?"
Stiles and Javi exchanged a quick glance, and then Stiles spoke up, his tone casual.
"Oh, that."
Javi raised an eyebrow, his expression turning more serious.
"Yeah, we wanted to do some testing. Reenact the scene."
Scott's expression shifted to one of confusion and concern as he processed that information.
"You did what now?"
Stiles cut in before Javi could say anything.
"But unfortunately, that's been delayed because the sheriff called."
After a long stretch of waiting, Stiles and Javi finally made their way down the sterile hospital hallway, heading toward the small conference room where the suspects had been brought together. The room was quiet, the hum of the fluorescent lights filling the air as they stepped inside. Shane Vukovich, Lea Stallone, Angela Lambert, and Jane Anuevo were sitting around a table, each with a tense, guarded expression.
Javi took a seat beside Stiles, his gaze flicking over the suspects, sizing them up. Each of them had their own air of suspicion, but who had the motive? Who had the opportunity?
Shane sat with her arms crossed, adjusting her hairpin again, her posture defensive but clearly tired, like she had been through the ringer. Lea, on the other hand, looked angry, her lips pressed into a thin line as though she was keeping something inside. Angela's face was still soft with emotion, her eyes looking red-rimmed, a stark contrast to her calm demeanor earlier in the investigation. Finally, Jane sat back in her chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her sharp gaze meeting theirs as she studied Stiles and Javi without blinking.
Stiles broke the silence, glancing around the room.
"So, this is it, huh? The gang's all here."
Javi shot Stiles a look, but there was a quiet amusement behind his eyes. It was clear they were both just as eager to get to the heart of things as the sheriff had been.
"We're not here for chit-chat," Javi said, his tone steady and serious as he focused on the suspects. "We know you've all been questioned, but we're still piecing things together. So, let's get to it."
Shane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing at the others before turning her attention back to Javi.
"What exactly do you want from us?"
Lea scoffed, not bothering to hide her frustration.
"We've already been questioned. What's left to say?"
Angela looked down at her hands, still visibly shaken from the death of Dr. Langer, but she kept her emotions in check for the most part. Her voice was soft but firm.
"I've already told you everything. I don't know anything else."
Jane, however, didn't speak right away. Her cold eyes swept over both Javi and Stiles, assessing them with sharp precision before she finally leaned forward, breaking her silence.
"If you think I did it, you're wasting your time. I didn't have anything to do with it."
Javi studied her carefully, his expression unreadable as he nodded slowly.
"Maybe. But it's our job to make sure we're right. None of you are off the hook yet."
The room fell quiet for a moment as the gravity of the situation settled over everyone. Stiles glanced at Javi, noting the way the suspects' faces shifted subtly—guilt, defensiveness, and perhaps even fear. Whatever had happened to Dr. Langer, one of them knew more than they were letting on.
As Javi's eyes met Jane's, something strange happened. A shiver ran down his spine, and for a moment, he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew her from somewhere—her intense gaze, the way she held herself, it all felt eerily familiar. It wasn't just suspicion. It was something deeper, like an echo from his past that he couldn't place. But, whatever it was, Javi knew one thing for sure: Jane hadn't committed the crime. There was something about her—something that didn't fit with the killer they were hunting.
He studied her for a moment longer, his expression shifting from cold analysis to a deeper, quieter curiosity. Jane's eyes didn't waver, but Javi could feel the weight of the moment hanging between them.
Stiles, sensing the shift, raised an eyebrow.
"You okay, Javi?"
Javi snapped out of his thoughts, forcing himself to focus. He gave a small nod, brushing off the unease that had momentarily overtaken him.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just… something about her feels off."
Stiles glanced over at Jane, his own gaze narrowing slightly.
"She looks like she's hiding something, but not the murder. Just…" He trailed off, unsure how to explain.
Javi couldn't help but feel that same odd familiarity with Jane, though he couldn't figure out why. It was like a door in his memory had cracked open, but the answer was just out of reach.
He shook his head, deciding it wasn't the time to dwell on it. There was a case to solve, and right now, every second counted.
"Let's focus. We'll figure this out."
Jane, still quiet, met his eyes one last time. Her face remained unreadable, but the tension in the room grew as both Javi and Stiles tried to piece together the fragments of truth that were still so elusive.
The tension in the room was palpable as everyone remained silent, uncertain of how to move forward. Shane cleared her throat softly, breaking the silence.
"Can I ask you both a question?"
Stiles raised an eyebrow, surprised that she dared break the silence.
"Sure, go ahead."
Shane shifted in her seat, her voice soft but serious.
"I can only speak for myself here, but I don't think any of us in this room had anything to do with what happened to Dr. Langer."
Stiles nodded slowly, considering her words. He wasn't fully convinced, but he wasn't one to dismiss a person so quickly either. His eyes lingered on her, analyzing her every movement.
"Fair enough," he said, his tone tinged with skepticism. "But we can't rule anyone out just yet."
Javi chimed in from the side, his voice steady but laced with the same determination that had driven him since they started this investigation.
"Don't worry. Once we find Dr. Langer's car, we will solve everything."
At the mention of the car, Shane's hand instinctively moved to adjust her hairpin again. Angela's hands trembled slightly, her nervous energy betraying her calm exterior. Lea, on the other hand, remained guarded, her posture tense and watchful. But it was Jane who stood out the most. She remained eerily calm, not a hint of unease in her expression.
Javi noticed the subtle reactions of the others—Shane's repeated adjustment of her hairpin, Angela's trembling hands, Lea's tight, controlled demeanor—and while it was clear they were all affected by the mention of the car, Jane remained unfazed. The calmness in her gave him pause. It wasn't normal for someone to be so composed in a room full of anxious, guilty feelings.
Javi glanced at Stiles, exchanging a quiet look. Stiles, ever perceptive, seemed to pick up on the same oddity, but neither of them said anything aloud just yet. They were both aware that Jane's calmness could be a sign of something deeper, something more calculated—or it could mean nothing at all.
Finally, Stiles broke the silence again, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and resolve.
"We're gonna find out what happened. We're not leaving here until we do."
The room fell silent again, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air. Everyone was aware that this wasn't just about finding out who did it—it was about understanding why, and how to stop them from doing it again.
Jane smirked and looked directly at Javi.
"What's wrong, mijo?"
Javi didn't move, but internally he bristled at the word. Mijo? What the hell?
"Nothing," he replied, his voice colder than before. "Just trying to sort through the pieces."
Stiles glanced at Javi, noticing the subtle shift in his demeanor. He could tell something was off, but he knew better than to push it right now. He didn't say anything, but his curiosity was piqued.
Javi sighed, clearly irritated. "Alright, Stiles, that's enough. Let's head back to the hallway." He glanced at the suspects, his eyes lingering on Jane for just a moment longer than the others. "Thanks for your cooperation so far."
Stiles nodded, picking up on the subtle shift in Javi's demeanor. "Yeah, we've got what we need for now. We'll let you know if we need anything else."
As they stepped out into the hallway, Javi seemed to distance himself, his body tense. Stiles noticed the change immediately but didn't push it, knowing Javi well enough to know when he needed space.
Suddenly, Scott pulled Stiles aside, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Stiles… one of them is a werewolf."
Stiles' eyes widened, but he managed to keep his voice even, keeping his tone casual to avoid drawing attention. "Which one?"
Scott rubbed his temples, looking frustrated. "I don't know for sure, but I'm certain it's one of them. A beta."
Stiles muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Of course it is. Just what we needed. Any idea who?"
Scott gave a half-shrug, still uneasy. "Gut feeling. Something's off about Jane. I'm telling you, she's hiding something."
Stiles glanced back toward the door where the suspects remained, his mind racing. He had a gut feeling, too, but something about Jane felt different than the rest. She wasn't as easy to read. "Jane, huh? Why her?"
Scott's expression darkened slightly, his eyes scanning the hallway. "Like I said, it's just a feeling. But she's not like the others."
Stiles could sense that Scott was troubled, but before he could respond, he turned to Javi, who was still lingering in the hallway, his expression unreadable. "And what about him?" Stiles gestured subtly to Javi.
Stiles sighed, rubbing his face in frustration. "I don't know, man. But there's definitely something with that Jane girl. I mean, Javi got all agitated the second their gazes locked."
Scott frowned, a deep concern crossing his features. "You think there's a past between those two?"
Stiles nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Could be, but it's more than that. It's like Jane recognized Javi, but he had no idea who she was. You get what I mean?"
Scott nodded, a look of understanding crossing his face. "Yeah, it's like a weird mix of recognition and confusion. Something doesn't add up."
One of the deputies approached Javi, Scott, and Stiles. "Boys! The sheriff needs you. He's on his way to the impound lot. One of my guys found Dr. Langer's car."
Stiles and Scott exchanged brief glances before they nodded. "Thanks, Deputy," Stiles said as they hurried off toward where Sheriff Stilinski was.
Javi jogged to catch up with them. "Let's solve this case."
The Deputy paused, looking serious. "Wait, the sheriff said to bring the suspects with us."
Stiles groaned, visibly frustrated. "Of course he did. Can this day get any more complicated?"
Javi glanced at Stiles, his usual dry tone returning. "Correction, night. It's 4 a.m."
Stiles rolled his eyes, though a small smile tugged at his lips. "You and your literal ass, that's morning already."
Javi chuckled, his carefree attitude returning for a moment. "Hey now, my ass might be literal, but it's a damn fine one."
The Deputy and Scott grabbed the suspects again. As Jane Anuevo and Javi met gazes, it happened again.
Javi's eyes flicked to Jane, and their gazes locked, the same strange sensation of familiarity and confusion washing over him. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something unnervingly familiar about her—as if he had seen her before, somewhere, sometime.
He found himself unable to look away, her gaze pulling him in like a magnet. It was almost as if every fiber of his body was drawn toward her, inexplicably.
Stiles and Scott exchanged a concerned glance, but Stiles broke the silence, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You fall in love with her or something?"
Javi snapped out of his trance, annoyance quickly replacing his earlier confusion. He shot Stiles a withering glare. "Shut up, dumbass, I'm not into older woman."
Stiles chuckled, but even he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling Jane gave off. Scott, however, looked at Stiles, confirming his suspicions—Jane was indeed a beta werewolf.
Stiles caught Scott's expression, nodding subtly, the unspoken truth between them now clear.
Javi cleared his throat, completely oblivious to their silent exchange. "Alright, here's the plan. Scott, head over to the impound lot and meet the sheriff. Stiles, remember when I said we were going to reenact the crime? Now's the time."
Stiles grinned. "Alright, let's head to the woods."
Scott sighed, clearly frustrated. "And why do I always miss the excitement? Off to the impound lot, huh?"
Javi chuckled. "Stop whining, man."
With that, they parted ways, each heading off to their separate destinations.
Stiles and Javi made their way back toward the woods, the tension between them palpable as they prepared to test their reenactment of the crime scene. The night air felt even colder now, as if the forest itself was waiting for something.
Stiles and Javi prepared the scene, methodically moving through the steps, each action calculated as they worked together to recreate the crime.
Javi glanced at Stiles, giving him quick instructions. "Alright, first we need to tie the rope where the marks on the trees were carved. Make sure it's secure, this is where the pulley system would've been rigged."
Stiles nodded, his hands moving quickly as he wrapped the rope around the tree, forming a loop, just like the one they had seen earlier. "Got it. This is where the marks were, right?"
Javi inspected the loop, making sure it was tight enough to hold the weight. Once satisfied, he moved to the next step. "Perfect. Now, we tie the blanket around the torso, just like we would've seen the victim positioned. Make sure you cover the bruises."
Stiles took the blanket, carefully adjusting it to mimic the victim's body, making sure the placement felt realistic. He couldn't help but feel an eerie sense of déjà vu, the situation becoming more real the longer they worked.
Once the blanket was in place, Javi pointed toward the trees. "Alright, align the rope here. Make sure it lines up with where the victim was lifted, just like we saw at the crime scene."
Stiles adjusted the rope, pulling it tight between the tree and the well's handle. He glanced at Javi for confirmation.
*Javi nodded once, his gaze focused on the setup. "Now, the next part's tricky. If there was a grappling hook, we need to attach it to the back of your Jeep. When you drive away, the blanket should drop in that exact sleeping position, just like Dr. Langer did."
Stiles took a deep breath, clearly not thrilled about being the one to drive. "You really think this will work? I mean, what if we mess it up?"
Javi met his gaze, his eyes hard with determination. "We won't. This is our only chance to see if the system works the way we think it does. We're not leaving until we prove it."
Stiles, while still uneasy, nodded, starting the Jeep and attaching the grappling hook to the back. The tension in the air was palpable as they prepared for the final test.
Javi watched the setup with intense focus, his thoughts racing. "Alright, once you drive, the blanket should drop exactly how it did at the scene."
Stiles shifted the Jeep into gear, slowly pulling away, watching as the rope went taut. The blanket stayed suspended for a moment before it suddenly dropped to the ground in a perfect imitation of the victim's resting position.
Javi watched, his heart pounding. This was the moment. If it worked, they would know for sure how the victim was placed, and who might have been behind it.
Stiles continued driving, the Jeep pulling away slowly as the rope went taut. For a heartbeat, everything seemed frozen in time—then, with a soft thud, the blanket dropped to the ground, landing in perfect imitation of the victim's resting position.
Javi's eyes widened, a mix of relief and satisfaction washing over him. He stepped forward, inspecting the drop. The blanket now lay exactly as Dr. Langer had been found—her body arranged with eerie precision.
Javi exhaled quietly, his voice steady but tinged with awe. "It worked. It's exactly like the crime scene."
Stiles parked the Jeep, stepping out to join Javi, his face a blend of exhaustion and disbelief. "Damn, I can't believe it actually worked. We just reenacted a murder…"
Javi turned to him, his expression somber, the weight of the moment sinking in. "We didn't reenact the murder. We reenacted how the killer placed the body. That's what matters."
Stiles ran a hand through his hair, eyes flicking back to the blanket. "So what does this mean? Who could pull this off?"
Javi sighed, his expression grave. "It's her."
Stiles froze, his eyes widening. "Are you sure?"
Javi nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yeah. Remember what we saw earlier? You saw it too—during the interrogation. It's the way she moves. The way she acts. It all lines up."
Stiles, leaned back at the nearest tree, his arms folded. "I wonder what's going on at the impound lot. I mean, Sheriff and Scott should be finding something, right?"
Javi shrugged, though a hint of frustration lingered on his features. "Hopefully. If they've found something useful, then we're one step closer. But right now, we need to stick to what we have. This could be the key to everything, but it's only one piece of the puzzle."
Stiles sighed, nodding, his grin now faded into contemplation. "Yeah... but damn, this feels like a win. Let's just hope whatever's happening at the impound lot brings us closer to the truth."
Meanwhile, at the impound lot, Dr. Langer's car sat under the harsh lights of the lot, its exterior now fixed, but its interior was another story. The pillow, the murder weapon, lay inside—its grim significance clear. The key still sat in the ignition, untouched.
Sheriff Stilinski stood beside the car, surveying the scene with a calm but intense gaze. He had already noted the small details that others might miss. On the ground near the car, he spotted a hairpin—its sudden appearance making him pause. He pocketed it for now, deciding to keep it to himself for the time being. The last thing he wanted was to tip off the suspects.
As the group of suspects gathered around the car, their reactions were a study in contrast. Shane fidgeted with her hairpin, her fingers nervously toying with the item, a subtle but revealing sign of her anxiety. Her eyes darted from the car to the others, as if waiting for someone else to break the tension.
Lea, on the other hand, let out a soft exhale, her shoulders slumping in what could only be interpreted as relief. It wasn't entirely clear why she felt this way, but it was obvious that she didn't seem to be rattled by the scene in the same way the others were.
Angela, standing just a bit away from the group, suddenly burst into tears. Her hands trembled as she wiped her eyes, her face twisting with grief. Her expression held something deeper, something nostalgic, as if she was mourning a loss that went beyond Dr. Langer's death—perhaps a connection, a memory, or a feeling of regret.
Then there was Jane. Calm, collected, and entirely unfazed by the chaos around her. Her eyes lingered on the car, scanning every detail as though she had seen this all before. She seemed less concerned with the situation and more like she was observing something familiar, almost as if she were waiting for the next step in a carefully laid plan.
The tension in the air was thick. Each of the suspects reacted differently, and Sheriff Stilinski was silently taking note of it all, wondering if these reactions would ultimately point to the one who was hiding the most.
Sheriff Stilinski's phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw it was Stiles.
"Dad!!" Stiles' voice came through the phone, urgent and excited. "Please come to the crime scene—bring the suspects with you. We've got a gift for you. We already figured out who the killer is."
The sheriff raised an eyebrow, his instincts telling him this was it, the break they needed. He glanced at the suspects, who were all watching him closely, each of them wearing varying expressions of uncertainty or detachment.
"I'll be there in a minute," Sheriff Stilinski said, ending the call before stepping away. He motioned to the suspects. "We're heading to the crime scene. Stay close."
As they all walked toward the vehicles, the sense of impending revelation hung thick in the air. The sheriff couldn't help but feel a little cautious about the news, but he was eager to get to the bottom of it.
---
Meanwhile, back at the crime scene, Javi and Stiles had set up the pulley system once again. The rope was tied securely, and the blanket—the victim's body—was carefully arranged in the exact position as before.
Javi glanced over at Stiles, his face tense but determined. "This time, we'll prove it. We just need to show the sheriff and the suspects how it all works."
Stiles nodded, eyeing the setup. "I'm really hoping we're right about this. It's not like we have a backup plan if we're wrong."
"Trust me, we're right. I can feel it," Javi said, though his tone was more confident than he felt.
They quickly checked the connections one last time, making sure everything was in place, just as they had done in their earlier reenactment. The sheriff and the suspects were on their way, and this time, they'd have irrefutable evidence.
As the sheriff arrived with the suspects, Javi and Stiles stood ready. They knew this would be the moment they had all been waiting for—the moment the killer would be exposed.
Sheriff Stilinski, followed by the four suspects, approached the scene. Each of them looked confused and apprehensive, likely wondering what was about to take place.
The Sheriff, knowing exactly what was coming, couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He had faith in Stiles and Javi, and he was ready to see this case resolved once and for all.
As they neared the setup, the suspects' expressions shifted, their confusion growing. Something was up, and the tension was palpable.
Scott approached Javi and Stiles his eyes darting at the his friends his expression curious. "What's going on?"
Stiles gave Scott a firm nod, speaking in a low voice to avoid being overheard by the suspects. "We got the killer narrowed down. We're about to demonstrate how the murder took place, and we believe this will expose the real culprit."
Scott raised an eyebrow, looking over at the suspects, who were standing behind the sheriff. He could tell they were uneasy, clearly not knowing what to expect. "This is risky. Are you sure about this?"
Javi, who was standing beside Stiles, gave Scott a quick glance before responding. "We've got everything in place. We know how the murder went down. If we're right, this will clear things up once and for all."
The sheriff, who had been silently observing, finally spoke up. "Alright, Stiles, Javi. Let's see it. But I don't want anyone making any moves until we're sure of what's going on."
Javi nodded, his focus narrowing on the suspects as they looked at the rope and blanket setup with growing suspicion. Shane seemed to fidget with her hairpin, a nervous habit she hadn't shown earlier. Lea appeared stiff and guarded, while Angela was still wiping away tears. Jane, however, remained cool and collected, her gaze flicking between Javi and the setup without betraying any emotion.
Javi took a deep breath, then looked at Stiles. "Alright, let's show them how it was done."
Stiles stepped forward and nodded to Javi, signaling that it was time to begin the demonstration. He grabbed the rope and started explaining the process aloud, his voice steady despite the weight of the moment.
"First, we tie the rope in a loop here, right where the marks on the trees were made," Stiles said, pointing to the knot he had secured earlier. "Then, we tie the blanket to simulate the victim's body. The key part was the bruises around the torso—just like Dr. Langer's had."
Javi stepped forward to assist, his actions precise and careful. He continued, describing how the pulley system had been rigged to drop the blanket from the exact height the victim had been placed in the well. As Stiles finished explaining, Javi moved to connect the rope to the well's handle, pulling it taut.
The sheriff nodded approvingly, impressed by how well thought out the demonstration was. The tension was rising as the suspects' expressions shifted. They were no longer just watching—they were now wondering if they had been caught in their own lies.
With a final pull, Stiles motioned to the jeep in the distance, where a grappling hook was attached to the rope. The vehicle would slowly drive away, causing the rope to loosen and release the blanket from the trees in the same manner it had been dropped to the ground before.
The moment the blanket fell, the suspects were left stunned, their eyes wide. It was eerily similar to the way the victim had been positioned in the well, confirming their worst fears.
Javi spoke up, his voice cutting through the tension. "Now, we have the evidence. This is how it was done. And now, we know exactly who did it."
The atmosphere went silent. Everyone was watching closely, waiting for the moment when the killer's identity would be revealed.
Stiles turned to the suspects, his eyes scanning each one of them, his tone serious. "It's time to tell us the truth."
Javi and Stiles stepped forward, their faces hard, their eyes unblinking as they turned their attention to Shane. The air seemed to grow thicker with every passing second, as if the weight of the truth was about to come crashing down on them all. Javi was the first to speak, his voice low but cutting, like the sharpened edge of a blade.
"The killer is no other than you."
Stiles didn't hesitate. His finger pointed directly at Shane, the accusation sharp and final. "Shane Vukovich!"
A ripple of disbelief passed over Shane's face. Her eyes widened, her body tensing as she took an instinctive step backward. She shook her head quickly, as though trying to shake off the weight of the words. "What? No... why me?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, betraying the shock she was trying so hard to mask.
Javi's eyes never left her as he spoke, his tone steady, measured. "Let me explain it. The night before Dr. Langer died, he bought a ticket for a movie. He was excited. He picked you up, right? You probably couldn't wait for it. You were anticipating that night."
Stiles crossed his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. "But Dr. Langer only bought one ticket because you refused to go with him. That doesn't sit right, does it?"
Javi gave a slight nod, as if affirming what Stiles had just said. "But you were still anticipating that night, weren't you? That's why the car stopped. First to pick you up, and then... because of you. Because of what you did. You killed him."
Shane's mouth opened, but the words she tried to speak didn't make sense. She stammered, unable to form any coherent defense. "I—I don't know what you're talking about," she said, the panic slowly creeping into her voice.
But Javi wasn't fooled. He shook his head with an almost regretful look. "First, you injected him with the sedative. It didn't work. He must've fought you, right?"
Scott's face hardened as the pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. "That's why you used the pillow," he murmured, his voice low but full of understanding.
Javi's eyes narrowed, his lips a thin line of resolve. "You panicked, didn't you? He fought back. You didn't expect that, did you?"
Shane's face turned pale, the blood draining from her cheeks as she continued to deny everything. "No, I didn't do it! I swear, I didn't!"
Javi's expression darkened, his patience running thin. "You didn't expect him to fight back. You thought it would be easy, but it wasn't. That's why you killed him. You hated him... I don't know why, and I don't know how. But after that? You drove to the woods in his car, and you set up the pulley system."
The silence that followed was deafening, and for a long moment, it seemed like the entire world had held its breath. Shane's hands trembled as she took another step back, her gaze darting around the room, looking for a way out. But there was no escape. The truth was inescapable.
Around her, the other suspects were still, their reactions as varied as their personalities.
Lea Stallone had remained silent throughout the whole exchange. But now, she shifted nervously on her feet, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Her eyes flickered toward Shane, avoiding direct contact, as though she couldn't bear to look at the person who might be the killer.
Angela Lambert, who had been trying so hard to keep it together, suddenly burst into tears. Her face crumpled as she covered her eyes with her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Her voice broke through the silence, soft and strangled. "No... no, this can't be true. This can't be happening."
Jane Anuevo was the only one who remained unfazed. She didn't show fear, guilt, or shock. Her eyes stayed fixed on Shane, a calmness about her that was unsettling. She hadn't flinched when Javi had accused Shane; she wasn't surprised. And now, her voice, when it came, was quiet but firm.
"I knew something was off about you," Jane said, her gaze cold. "But this? This is a different story."
Shane turned to Jane, her expression one of pure desperation. "No, you don't understand! I didn't— I didn't mean for any of this to happen!"
But it was too late. Javi's gaze was unwavering, and there was no room for doubt in his voice. "You didn't expect him to fight back, and that's why you killed him. You killed Dr. Langer. And now, you'll pay for it."
Shane opened her mouth again, but no words came. Her face twisted in a mixture of disbelief and rage, but no matter how much she tried to deny it, the truth was out in the open. The others, even those who might have had their doubts, could see it now. There was no running from what had been exposed.
The silence returned, heavy and suffocating. Shane's shoulders slumped as the weight of the accusation hung over her, and the other suspects stood still, some processing the truth, others still in shock.
Javi and Stiles exchanged a glance. They'd cracked it. It was over. But for Shane, it was just beginning. The truth had been laid bare, and there was no going back now.
Sheriff Stilinski stepped forward, his expression hard, his hand outstretched as he revealed the hairpin. "I found this earlier at Dr. Langer's car," he said, his voice steady but laced with a finality that sent a chill through the room. "It's yours, Shane."
Shane's breath hitched, her eyes widening as she stared at the small, delicate accessory. The panic that flooded her system was immediate and overwhelming. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. The weight of her guilt pressed down on her chest like a vise. She had tried so hard to keep everything contained, to deny it, but now... now the truth was staring her in the face.
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn't come. Her throat was tight, and no matter how she tried to speak, nothing would escape. She couldn't lie anymore. Her mind raced, her pulse quickening as her eyes flicked to the hairpin, then back to the faces of the others, all watching her.
Javi's gaze was unwavering as he looked at her, his voice cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. "That's why you kept fidgeting with your hairpin all the time," he said, his tone flat but pointed. "And this hairpin you're wearing right now? It's the needle, isn't it?"
Shane's breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she couldn't even look at him. The truth was out now, and there was nowhere to run, no way to deny what had happened. She had tried so hard to keep her cool, but it was slipping away from her with every word that was spoken.
The room was still, the tension thick. The hairpin, once just an accessory, had become the final piece of the puzzle, the object that tied her to the crime. The cold, hard truth was now undeniable.
Shane looked from the Sheriff to Javi, her fingers trembling as she slowly reached for the hairpin in her hair, pulling it free. She held it in her hands, staring at it for a long moment before finally speaking, her voice barely a whisper. "I never meant for any of this to happen…"
But it didn't matter. The truth was clear. She had done it. And now, the consequences were inevitable.
Lea, the ever-guarded one, stepped forward, her eyes fixed on Shane with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity. "But why? What's your motive?"
Shane sniffled, her face pale, eyes darting between the group. Her voice cracked as she spoke, the words escaping in a choked breath. "He... he is my father, and I hated him for it."
The words hung in the air like a bombshell, exploding with a sharpness that stunned everyone into silence. The room was still, as if time itself had frozen. No one could fully process what she had just admitted.
Scott, Stiles, and Javi spoke at once, their disbelief evident in their voices. "Father?!!"
Stiles, ever the skeptic, was the first to recover. "But we checked his family background, and your name doesn't show up!"
Shane's eyes flickered with a mixture of pain and resentment as she looked at them. She stood tall but trembled slightly, her hands clenched into fists. "My mother was an affair baby," she spat out. "He refused to acknowledge me. So when my mom died, I was sent to foster care at five."
The group stood in stunned silence. The revelation, so raw and unfiltered, left them all reeling. The truth was far more twisted than they'd imagined.
Angela, unable to contain her disbelief, stepped forward. "But... Dr. Langer was a good person. Why would you—?"
Lea, with a knowing look, interjected, her voice low and skeptical. "I always knew something was off about him."
Despite the rising tension, Jane remained eerily silent, her eyes unreadable, a quiet observer of the unraveling truth.
Shane's expression morphed into a combination of sadness and seething anger. "I grew up knowing who Dr. Langer was. He was my father, but he refused to acknowledge me. One day, I found him and confronted him. I told him who I was, and he... he told me that he had no obligation to me since he didn't even know I existed."
Angela's voice softened as she approached Shane, her expression filled with sympathy. "You're wrong. You didn't even know what movie ticket he bought. He told me that, Shane. He wanted to make it up to you."
Shane's eyes narrowed, her anger flaring again. "I don't care about him. I never cared. He was just another reminder of my mother's betrayal. Of how I was discarded like nothing."
Stiles, trying to process all of this, checked the ticket records once more. He froze, his eyes wide in realization. "Wait. Isn't this movie Land Before Time?"
Shane's breath caught in her throat at the mention of the movie title. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and for a fleeting moment, her guard cracked. "That's... that's my favorite movie."
The room was heavy with the weight of the revelation. The truth had come out in a rush, and the air seemed to thicken as everyone processed the tangled web of emotions and lies.
Shane's hands were trembling as she wiped her face, her eyes wild with a mix of anger and disbelief. "It doesn't matter now," she muttered, her voice cold. "He's dead, and I don't care anymore."
Stiles, his voice laced with disbelief and frustration, stepped forward. "You're saying all this, but you still murdered him. You're still responsible for his death, Shane. All of this pain, all of this hate—none of it excuses what you did."
Shane turned her gaze toward Stiles, her expression hardening. "You don't understand. You never will." She shook her head, the weight of the years of rejection and resentment pressing down on her. "I didn't want to kill him. I just wanted him to finally see me, to acknowledge me. But instead, he brushed me off. Like I was nothing. So I snapped. I—"
Her voice cracked as if she was on the verge of breaking, but then she hardened again, pulling herself together with a sharp intake of breath. "I didn't plan for it to go this way. But when I injected him with the sedative and he didn't go out like I thought, I panicked. I... I had to finish it."
Lea stepped forward, her eyes filled with an almost sad understanding. "So it was never about him being a bad person, was it? It was just about your own pain. You never let yourself heal from all that rejection, and that's why it hurt so much."
Shane's eyes flickered with a moment of vulnerability, but she quickly masked it with bitterness. "You have no idea what it's like to be abandoned by the one person who should have cared the most. The one person who should have loved me. So no, Lea, it wasn't just about him. It was about me."
Javi, his expression hard, crossed his arms. "You didn't need to kill him. You could have confronted him. You could have done so many things. But instead, you chose murder." His voice was steady, but there was a deep undercurrent of anger. "And now here we are."
The silence that followed was suffocating. No one knew how to respond to that. Shane had been broken by years of rejection, but none of them knew how to fix it.
Angela, still trembling, looked at Shane with sympathy. "Shane, you didn't have to carry this alone. You could have reached out to someone."
But Shane's gaze was distant, her thoughts elsewhere. "No one could help me. Not even him."
Then, for the first time, Jane finally spoke, her voice calm yet heavy with meaning.
"This separation between past, present, and future… it's only an illusion. A stubborn one, but an illusion nonetheless."
Her words lingered in the cold night air, carrying a weight that none of them could ignore. The past had caught up to the present, and now, the future was forever changed.
Shane's breath hitched at Jane's words. Her fingers clenched into fists, her body trembling with emotions she refused to name. The weight of everything crashed down on her—the crime, the years of resentment, the realization that maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong.
Javi watched her closely, his sharp eyes catching the flicker of doubt in hers. He took a step forward, his voice calm but firm. "Shane, whether you cared about him or not… he cared about you."
Shane shook her head rapidly, her voice breaking. "No, he didn't. He never looked for me. Never wanted me."
Angela, still wiping away her own tears, spoke softly. "He did, Shane. He told me about you. He wanted to reach out, but he didn't know how. That's why he bought the ticket… your favorite movie."
Stiles, glancing at the crumpled ticket in his hand, sighed. "It was his way of saying he cared. He just… ran out of time."
The weight of the truth settled over Shane like a crushing force. Her knees buckled slightly, and for the first time, she looked… lost. The anger, the hatred—it all crumbled in an instant, leaving only raw grief in its place.
"I didn't even know he cared."
The wind howled through the trees, as if carrying the unspoken regrets of a fractured past.
Scott stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. "Because you ignored it."
Shane lifted her head slightly, her expression a mix of defiance and devastation. Her lips parted as if to argue, but no words came. Deep down, she knew Scott was right. She had spent so much time hating Dr. Langer that she refused to see the truth staring her in the face.
And with that, Sheriff Stilinski pulled out his handcuffs and clasped them around Shane Vukovich's wrists. She didn't resist. There was no fight left in her—only the weight of everything she had done pressing down on her shoulders.
"Shane Vukovich, you're under arrest for the murder of Dr. Langer," the Sheriff said firmly. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law..." His voice trailed off as he led her toward his car, the finality of it all settling over the group.
The rest of the suspects remained still, their reactions mixed—Lea exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples as if trying to process everything. Angela wiped her tears, unable to stop them from falling. Jane, ever composed, merely watched in silence, her expression unreadable.
Jane, who had been eerily quiet until now, finally spoke again, her voice smooth and unreadable. "Regret is the cruelest prison of all."
Lea folded her arms, still looking guarded but with a touch of sympathy in her eyes. "You wasted so much time hating him, Shane. And now?" She shook her head. "Now it's too late."
Angela, sniffling, wiped her eyes again. "He still bought that ticket for you, even after all these years."
Shane swallowed hard, but she didn't respond. The weight of her choices hung in the air like a storm cloud ready to burst. Sheriff Stilinski guided her toward his car, his grip firm yet not unkind. She didn't fight him.
Javi let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. "Well. That's that."
Stiles crossed his arms, still watching Shane as she was guided into the squad car. "We did it. Solved the case. But man… this one's gonna stick with me for a while."
Scott, standing beside him, nodded. "Yeah. Same." His voice was heavy, knowing that no matter the outcome, this wasn't a victory—it was just the end of something tragic.
The early morning air was cold, the sky just beginning to lighten as dawn crept over Beacon Hills. The night had been long, exhausting, and full of revelations. And yet, as they stood there, watching the taillights of the Sheriff's car fade into the distance, it was clear that some questions would never truly be answered.
Javi stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders. "Alright. That's enough existential dread for one night. Pancakes?"
Stiles groaned, rubbing his stomach. "Dude, I thought you'd never ask."
Lea and Angela stretched their limbs, both visibly releasing the tension that had built up throughout the night.
"Well," Lea exhaled, shaking her head. "That was something."
Angela nodded, her eyes still watery, her voice soft. "Yeah… tragic, really."
Jane remained composed, her expression as unreadable as ever. She simply gave a slow nod, acknowledging the weight of what had just unfolded.
Scott glanced back toward the squad car carrying Shane, his face still thoughtful. "I don't think I'll ever understand it," he admitted. "Hating someone so much… and then realizing, too late, that you might have mattered to them after all."
"People do terrible things when they're hurt," Jane said, her voice even, though there was something almost knowing in her tone.
Lea sighed, crossing her arms. "Doesn't make it right."
Angela rubbed her arms as if trying to shake off a lingering chill. "Still… I wonder if she ever truly hated him. Or if she just hated what she thought he was."
For a moment, no one spoke. The wind rustled the trees, the first hints of morning light stretching over the town. The case was solved, the night was ending—but the weight of it all lingered.
Lea, Jane, and Angela turned to Javi, Stiles, and Scott, their expressions a mix of gratitude and exhaustion.
"Hey," Lea said, her usual guarded demeanor softening. "Thanks… for everything. If it weren't for you guys, we'd still be suspects in all of this."
*Angela nodded, wiping at her eyes. "Seriously. I don't even want to think about what would've happened if the truth didn't come out, you delivered fr Langer's justice he deserved."
"You guys didn't have to go this far," Jane added, her voice steady but sincere. "But you did. And that means something."
Javi shrugged, offering a small smirk. "Well, what can I say? We have a knack for getting into trouble. Solving it is just a bonus."
"Speak for yourself," Stiles muttered, then grinned. "But yeah, you're welcome. Just, uh… maybe next time, let's not get tangled up in a murder investigation, huh?"
*Scott chuckled but gave them a reassuring nod. "You're safe now. That's what matters."
Lea exhaled, shaking her head. "Yeah. But still… this town, man. Does it ever get a break?"
Scott, Stiles, and Javi exchanged knowing looks before Scott replied, "Not really."
Angela let out a small, tired laugh. "Figures."
*Jane, ever the calm one, simply nodded. "Guess we'll see what's next."
The cool night air clung to the dense trees of the Beacon Hills woods, the early signs of dawn just beginning to lighten the sky. The makeshift crime scene, now just remnants of their experiment, stood eerily silent. The pulley system still hung from the branches, swaying slightly in the wind. The scent of damp earth and pine filled the air, mixing with the lingering tension of the night's events.
Javi let out a deep yawn, rolling his shoulders before slinging his duffle bag over his back. His body was finally catching up to the exhaustion he had been ignoring.
"Well, that was fun," Javi muttered, voice tinged with sarcasm. "See ya later, guys. I'm going… home."
Scott crossed his arms, smirking slightly. "That's it? No dramatic exit? No final words of wisdom?"
Javi arched an eyebrow, shaking his head with a tired grin. "I think I've hit my quota for the night. Besides, I'd rather sleep than monologue."
Stiles gasped, clutching his chest in mock offense. "Blasphemy. If you don't make a dramatic exit, what's even the point?"
Javi chuckled, giving them a lazy wave as he turned toward the narrow dirt path leading back to town. "Goodnight, dumbasses."
"It's morning!" Stiles called after him.
"Details," Javi's voice drifted back before he disappeared between the trees.
Angela and Lea, still shaking off the tension of the night, shared a glance before turning to Jane. Angela rubbed her arms, exhaustion evident in her posture.
"Well," she murmured, exhaling. "That was… something."
Lea stretched, rolling her shoulders as if trying to shake off the weight of the evening. "'Something' is an understatement." She turned to Jane, eyeing her warily. "And you? What's your deal?"
Jane smirked, her posture calm, as if the events of the night hadn't fazed her in the slightest. "Just an observer."
Angela let out a quiet chuckle, shaking her head. "Yeah, right."
Lea studied Jane for a moment before sighing and extending a hand toward her. "Whatever. Thanks, I guess."
Jane hesitated before finally shaking Lea's hand, her grip firm yet unreadable. "You're welcome. For what, though, I'm not sure."
Angela nudged Lea's arm. "C'mon, let's go. I think I've had enough mysteries for one night."
"Morning," Stiles corrected automatically. Angela just rolled her eyes as she and Lea turned, making their way down the dirt path toward town.
Scott and Stiles remained behind, the sounds of the rustling leaves and distant crickets filling the silence. The tension wasn't entirely gone yet. They turned back to Jane, who hadn't moved, her gaze still fixed on them.
Stiles arched an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Uh, not that we don't enjoy your company, Jane, but… something tells me you've got more to say."
The morning mist hung low in the woods, the sky shifting from inky black to the soft hues of dawn. The trees stood as silent witnesses to the conversation unfolding beneath them. Jane remained still, her presence calm yet heavy with unspoken weight. Scott and Stiles, still processing the events of the night, stood their ground.
Jane met Scott's gaze directly, her eyes flashing an unmistakable golden hue. "Nice to finally meet you, True Alpha."
Scott didn't flinch. He had suspected it from the moment they questioned her earlier. "Yeah, I knew it all along."
Stiles, standing beside him, raised an eyebrow. "And what do you want from us? You're not some supervillain, right?"
Jane smirked, the first real expression breaking through her composed demeanor. "No."
Stiles scoffed. "Just no? No explanation? No evil speeches?"
Scott's patience wore thin. He took a step forward, his voice firm. "What do you want?"
Jane chuckled softly, the sound carrying an edge of amusement. "Relax. I'm not your enemy. I'm here to warn you."
Scott and Stiles exchanged a wary glance.
"Warn us?" Scott asked.
Stiles crossed his arms. "Please don't tell me there's another supernatural disaster waiting to wreck our lives. Is it another Nogitsune? Chimeras? Maybe some new pack looking for a fight?"
Jane shook her head, her expression growing serious. "No, it's not that." She paused before speaking again, more deliberately. "It's about Javi… your friend."
Scott and Stiles stiffened at the same time. "Javi?"
Jane nodded. "You cannot tell him about the supernatural. Especially not about you, Scott, being a werewolf—an Alpha. If you do, you'll regret it."
Scott's brows furrowed, suspicion flickering in his eyes. "Who are you to say that?"
Before he could press further, Jane cut him off. "Because he hates our kind. Because of what happened in his past."
Stiles blinked, looking between Scott and Jane. "Hold up. You're saying Javi hates werewolves? Why? And what the hell happened to him?"
Jane's gaze softened for a split second, but she quickly masked it. "That's not my secret to tell. But if you value your friendship with him, you'll keep him in the dark. Everything will be fine if he never finds out."
Scott clenched his jaw, unease creeping into his chest. "Have you met him before?"
Stiles squinted at her, suddenly remembering something. "Yeah… because back at the station, when you first saw him—you called him 'Mijo.' What was that about?"
Jane's smirk returned, but there was something almost melancholic behind it. "Maybe I have. Maybe I haven't. What matters is, I care for him."
Scott and Stiles exchanged a glance, the pieces of the puzzle still not fitting together.
"So that's why he felt like he knew you earlier," Scott murmured.
Stiles tapped his temple. "He doesn't remember you, does he? But part of him does—deep down."
Jane nodded slowly. "Yes. And it's better that way. Keeping him away from this life keeps him safe—from his past, from what happened to him."
Scott's fists clenched at his sides. "What incident? Is this why he's different now? More observant, sharper?"
Stiles nodded, the realization sinking in. "Yeah… what the hell happened to him in Europe?"
Jane exhaled, shaking her head. "I told you. That's not my story to tell. Just… promise me something."
Scott and Stiles remained silent, waiting.
"If he ever opens up to you," Jane continued, "listen to him. And remember what I said."
Scott exhaled through his nose, glancing at Stiles. After a long moment, he nodded. "We promise."
Stiles sighed, rubbing his face. "Yeah, yeah, we promise. But seriously, Jane—who the hell are you?"
Jane gave them one last smirk, turning slightly to leave. "Don't worry. I'm on your side. Just… don't give him a reason to dig deeper. If he does, we'll all regret it."
Scott and Stiles watched her, still trying to process everything.
"We don't want to lose our friend," Scott finally admitted, his voice quieter.
Stiles nodded, his usual sarcasm nowhere in sight. "Yeah. No matter what."
Then, as if an afterthought, Stiles called after her. "Wait! Whose Beta are you?"
Jane paused, looking over her shoulder. A ghost of a smile crossed her lips before she gave them one simple answer:
"Deucalion."
And with that, she turned and walked away, disappearing into the early morning fog.
Scott and Stiles remained rooted in place as the first rays of sunlight cut through the trees, the weight of everything Jane had said settling over them like a storm cloud.
Scott ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply as the weight of the conversation settled on his shoulders. The forest was quiet now, the night's chaos fading into the early whispers of dawn. But his mind was anything but at ease.
"Stiles… what do we do?" he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Stiles let out a slow breath, rubbing his temples as he tried to process everything. "I don't know, man. But what I do know? We really don't want Javi as an enemy."
Scott looked at him, brows furrowed. Stiles met his gaze, his usual sarcasm absent—just raw, unfiltered truth.
"You saw what he did back there, Scott. He solved a murder case—with ease. No supernatural abilities, no heightened senses. Just pure instinct, logic, and whatever the hell Europe did to him."
Scott swallowed hard, thinking back to Javi's sharp eyes, the way he picked apart every clue, how he had pieced everything together before anyone else.
"Yeah," he admitted. "And if he ever finds out what we've been hiding from him…"
Stiles finished his thought, voice quiet. "We might lose him for good."
The morning light stretched through the trees, casting long shadows over the forest floor. Scott and Stiles stood there for a moment longer, the weight of their promise to Jane—and the unknown future with Javi—settling heavily between them.
This wasn't over. Not even close.
And for the first time in a long time, Scott wasn't sure how to protect someone he cared about.
(Chapter 1-3 ends The Introduction Arc of Javier Garcia)