Chapter Thirty-Two

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"She's not dead."

I didn't know what to say. It wasn't a denial in the sense that he thought it wasn't possible that Erica was dead, it was a denial in the sense that he didn't want her to be dead because in his eyes it was his fault. His guilt, desperation, denial, all of it had invaded my mind the moment the words had left Isaac's lips. They were a different kind of poison.

"Derek, he said, "There's a dead body. It's Erica." Doesn't exactly leave us room for interpretation," Stiles pointed out. He didn't understand what the issue was.

"Then who was in the vault with Boyd?"

"Someone else, obviously." Stiles said.

Today had started of so well. So normal and nice.

"And maybe it was the girl on the motorcycle, okay?" Scott asked, before he glanced back at Isaac, "the one who saved you?"

"No, she wasn't like us... And whoever was in the vault with Boyd was."

"What if that's how Erica died?" Stiles asked. He should probably stop repeating the prospect of Erica being dead. "They, like, pit them against each other during the full moons and see which one survives? It's like Werewolf Thunderdome." I still couldn't think of anything to say.

"Then we get them out tonight."

"Be smart about this, Derek," Deaton cut in, "you can't just go storming in."

"If Isaac got in, then so can we."

"But he didn't get through a vault door, did he?"

"So we make a plan, a strategy.... one with different options," I cut in. I suppose I could start with helping in one of the few ways I actually knew how. Already a thousand plans were jumping through my mind.

"How are we gonna come up with a plan to break into a bank vault in less than twenty-four hours?" Derek asked.

"Uh, I think someone already did..." Stiles said and we all turned to look at him confused as to what he was talking about. What was he on about? ""Beacon Hills First National Bank closes its doors three months after vault robbery." Doesn't say here how it was robbed, but it probably won't take long to find out." He read out loud from his phone.

"How long?"

"It's the internet, Derek, okay?" He asked, "minutes."

It didn't take minutes.

Rolling around in the bed, I reached out to feel the walking radiator beside me, but he wasn't there. Patting the bed to see if there was any change in height on any of it - a sure sign that he was in the bed - I quickly came to the conclusion that he was gone. He wasn't in the bed. Forcing my eyes open I was first greeted with an empty bed.

Pushing myself up, I ignored the ache and the chill which formed in my body from the lack of sleep. The only light was that coming through the window. I say that like there was little light. From the size of the window, the light lit up the entire room. Although, there was a shadow because Derek was stood in front of it leaning against the wall and looking out at the town. Crawling over to the other side of the bed, I hopped down trying to be as quiet as I could as I walked over to him.

It wouldn't make much of a difference since with supernatural hearing he'd know I was there anyway. It was so quiet. It hadn't been this quiet since before I learnt about all of the supernatural existence. He didn't look at me as I stood beside him, I wanted to try and spot what he was looking at but my focus was on him. He'd built a wall. I couldn't grasp what he was feeling.

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