Chapter Text
Its been a couple of days since the Uniforms had picked them up from the camp and taken them to the motel outside of town. So far, they’ve only asked questions, lots and lots of questions. What happened to the Hacketts? Who killed who? Whose blood are you covered in? What happened to your clothes? Were you bitten or scratched? Etc, etc, etc.
After a full day of interrogations and medical attention, the Uniforms had let them loose to roam the motel as freely as one can under constant surveillance. It only took a few hours for most of them to filter into the common room, splitting up and claiming their own respective spaces.
To the right, Abi sits alone hunched over her sketchbook at a table near the far wall glancing over at the wide window. In the middle of the room, Nick sits in an armchair pretending not to watch Abi while Jacob lays flat on his stomach on the rug, whimpering softly to himself. To the left, Ryan reluctantly dotes over Dylan whose soaking up the attention like a dry sponge dropped in a pool, while Kaitlyn watches unamused from the other couch.
“Hey, isn’t that the Sheriff?” Emma asks from her spot by the open window. She raises her arm and points out to the parking lot where a car had just parked. The others gather around her, each of them adding another reflection to the window, following her finger to where three men are stepping out of a large black SUV.
Two of them, a tall thin man wearing a black baseball cap and a shorter stockier one in a forest green button up begin to march ahead, chatting between themselves as the Maybe Sheriff trails a dozen feet behind them, dragging his feet as he goes.
In the wide window overlooking the parking lot and acres of woods beyond, Jacob, Abi, Nick, Ryan, and Kaytlin nod in agreement. Emma keeps pointing and staring as if her attention might be enough to get him to turn around so they can tell for sure.
“I dunno, its kinda hard to recognize him without all of the gore. That could be anyone.” Dylan says, cupping his hand around his eye and leaning closer to the window. He stands back up and shakes his head. “Nope. Still no idea.”
“Why would they bring the Sheriff here?” As soon as the words leave Abi’s mouth she answers her own question. She gasps softly, putting her hand over her mouth. Emma drops her arm and reaches over, setting a comforting hand on Abi’s shoulder. “Is he in trouble?”
“Hopefully.” Ryan says calmly, ushering a pale Dylan to sit down. “I just mean like, the Hackett’s kept the whole, you know, werewolf thing, a secret for what, six years? Theres no telling how many people they’ve had to make disappear after a full moon. And what would make that easier than having a member of law enforcement in the family?”
“The body in the lake!” Jacob claps his hands with a wince, startling them all, a strained smile on his lips. “Glad that my trauma finally paid off. Whew.” He drags a hand across his forehead, face twisting into a dramatic sense of relief. Emma glowers at him in the reflection.
“We don’t know that the Sheriff was involved with that.” Kaitlyn says firmly, shooting Ryan a dirty look. “You’re just assuming because of his family that hes also a murderer which is very unfair.”
“I like the Sheriff. He saved us.” Abi crosses her arms, cradling them like shes cold, a frown on her bruised face.
“No, Laura saved us. The Sheriff just gave us a very bumpy ride to the monsters lair.” Ryan says with his usual frown.
“That kind of counts.” Nick says. Everyone else turns to look at him, one half shocked, the other annoyed. “Its just that, he got them there alive right? And its not like its his fault we got arrested.”
“We’re not arrested.” Kaitlyn rolls her eyes. “At least I’m pretty sure we’re not.”
“Of course we’re not.” Ryan says dismissively. “If we were, we’d all be in jail, right? Not here.”
“And they probably would have taken us to a real hospital.” Jacob adds with a small frown, walking away to lay back down on his spot on the floor.
“The one they set up in 3-B is pretty decent.” Dylan says, gesturing with his stumped hand before letting the sling rest against his chest. “And since I haven’t like, died from gangrene or whatever yet I’m sort of inclined to side with them.”
“Who even are they ?” Emma asks, gesturing around the room. “Why isn’t that more of an issue? Who exactly brought us here and what do they plan on doing now that they have us?”
“If they’re such scary bad guys then why haven’t they hurt us yet?” Jacob asks from their feet. “I mean, they even fixed us up. Why would they do that if they were trying to hurt us?”
An uncomfortable silence falls between them as the question begins to sink in. Who is this mysterious They if not the police? Maybe the government. But even then they would have been taken to some facility, right? Not to some skeezy motel. The worst thing they’ve done so far is taken blood samples but that could all change in a heartbeat.
The biggest question of all hangs over their heads like an anvil, waiting to come crashing down and shatter what little peace they’ve managed to create. Its different for each of them, but in the end it boils down to one simple thing. What exactly does this mysterious They want with them?
“No way, is that T-Money?” Max says, joining their reflections in the window, a frowning Laura right behind him. “It is! Damn girl, you really did a number on him.”
Laura’s lips twitch. “Don’t give me all the credit, the car crash helped a lot.”
“I think hes talking about the big ass band aid on his face.” Dylan says softly from his seat, his pale skin slick with sweat. “Yeah, look, the big white one thats like, basically the size of one of Jacob’s palms.”
“Why mine?” Jacob asks the rug.
“Uh, because you’re huge?” Dylan asks his tone thick with sarcasm.
“Can we please focus?” Kaitlyn shouts, throwing her hands up.
Outside, the Sheriff turns around slowly and squints in their direction, a deep frown crossing his partially obscured face as he stares toward them. Max waves enthusiastically but he doesn’t budge an inch.
Its the first time they’ve seen him since that night, his right cheek sliced open to reveal the dripping meat beneath his creased skin, more than his own blood drenching his filthy uniform. Now he just looks tired. Bone deep, haven’t been able to do more than close my eyes in a week, tired.
Near the entrance door, the taller Agent claps his hands and ushers him forward. The Sheriff’s frown deepens and he opens his mouth to say something they can’t hear before he turns away and continues his walk into the building.
“That was close.” Nick says with a relieved sigh.
All of the eyes in the reflection move to look at him but he doesn’t notice, much too preoccupied with watching himself.
—
After the excitement of the Sheriffs surprise arrival, they fall back to their chosen spots across the room. Abi has migrated across the room to sit next to Emma by the now closed window, a sketchbook between them as they whisper to each other, their fingers brushing for a moment as they reach for the page at the same time.
Near them, Ryan sits maybe a little too close to Dylan on the couch, asking, when’s the last time you laid down? Took your pills? Had any rest at all? Dylan laughs him off, shrugging with his good shoulder. Last night. This morning. Lots and lots.
Jacob lays face down on the floor, wincing every time he takes a deep breath, groaning against the dirty rug. Kaitlyn sits on the couch above him, lightly kicking him in the ass every few minutes just to see him squirm.
Alone in the furthest corner of the room, Nick lay curled up asleep in an armchair. Nightmares grow on the edge of his subconscious, memories he doesn’t have access to coming to life in his sleeping mind.
Down the hall, Laura and Max sit across from each other on a borrowed bed, too lost in their own little world to care about the happenings of the others. For the tenth time that day, Laura quizzes Max on their story. For the tenth time that day, he fails.
Upstairs, in a guarded room, Travis paces back and forth, anxiety burning beneath his skin. How did he let it get to this point? How could he have let this happen? How could he have failed so spectacularly? Behind him, theres a loud knock. His broken ribs pulse with pain as he twists to look over his shoulder at the door. Its a minute yet before he can bring himself to cross the room and rest his hand on the knob. A minute more before he dares to turn it.