11

                                    

                                          
𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄
you're making me forget my past. never thought i'd feel like that again 

                            

                                
                            
                              
                                  
                              
                              
                                
                                  
                                  
                                
                              
                             
                            
                            
                          
                          
STILES OPENED THE door to the Sheriff's office, Lydia and Hope r walking in right behind him who were followed by Sheriff Stiliinski himself.
While the pack had spent yesterday trying to find the Benefactor using Scott's 'dead' body, Lydia had been at her lake house with her mother and found some pretty crazy stuff herself. 
"It's not just that she could still be alive," Stiles continued on his rant, "it's that she would have had to fake her death."
Noah glanced at the strawberry blonde in disbelief, "your grandmother, Lorraine Martin, faked her death?"
"Definitely," Stiles confirmed.
"Maybe," Lydia rolled her eyes. She turned her green eyes to Hope, silently asking her 'this is the idiot you like?' 
"More than likely, yes," huffed the Stilinski boy, "is faking your own death really that hard to believe, dad?"
Hope frowned, tilting her head, crossing her arms over her chest. A lot of people fake their deaths; it's not unknown. 
"And I suppose you have a story to back this all up?" Noah sighed, ready to listen.
Hope nodded, "we think there is a possibility that she might be helping the Benefactor... but that's if she's actually alive."
"Or is the Benefactor," Stiles added.
"Sounds like a story worth hearing," the Sheriff nodded, tilting his head to the side as he moved over to the door, closing it in order to keep his fellow deputies to overhear the conversation. 
"Maybe Parrish should hear this too," Lydia sighed, "he knows about the hit list, he could help us with this." 
Noah nodded in agreement, sticking his head out of the door as he called, "has anyone seen Parrish? Haige?"
The Deputy in question glanced up from his computer screen, shaking his head, "nope."
The Sheriff reentered his office, shaking his head.
Hope frowned. 
Before any of the three teenagers could start explaining the theory, two loud gunshots came from the room over.
Hope flinched in surprise, but was quick to push Noah out of the way — he had opened the door and went to shoot his gun — with one flick of her wrist, and then stopped a bullet from piercing her neck by stopping it with her magic. Her eyes stayed on the bullet and then let the grip that her magic had on it, go, and they watched as it fell to the floor, clinking. 
"Oh, my god!" Stiles shouted, running toward Hope, pulling her into a hug, one hand on her back, the other on the back of her head, his nose buried into her neck, breathing heavily. "Are you okay?"