Chapter Text
"The truth. Nothing is sweeter than the truth."
"Do you know what happened when Achilles lost Patroclus?"
"Sometimes I ask myself, who to pin the blame on?"
"I'll find the one who did this to me, I'll find that bastard and skewer him alive."
"Let me tell you a story, my story, think of that as the last entertainment before your death..."
"Honour is a wonderful concept, until it's abused, that is."
"Homo homini lupus. I thought you out of everyone would know."
"A problem with a life like this... It could end before it could start."
"For so long as even only one of us remains, we will never succumb to this monstrous tyranny thrust upon us!"
Radvilkos Janos woke up from his slumber, startled, with beads of sweat covering his forehead and his heart thumping powerfully in his ribcage. He was sure he has been dreaming, but when he tried to recollect his dreams, they slipped away from his mind, like water flowing between his fingers.
The light of the waxing moon shone through his curtains, casting faint and flowing shadows upon the floor. It also illuminated the clock he hung on the wall, showing him it was mere minutes past midnight.
"Verdammt." He cursed in German. Tomorrow is the first day of the new semester, and he sure as hell won't start a semester by showing up late.
He tried his best to fall back to sleep, but with his body pumped full of adrenaline and his mind racing, he ended up in the kitchen, still thinking about his dream.
From whatever fragments he could remember, the dream was unusual, to say the least. It was one of those dreams as if he lived an entire life in it.
Was it a better one than his own? He can't remember much. What difference would it make even if he can, though? It's only just a dream.
Janos sighed. It's too early for deep philosophical contemplation. He downed the glass of whiskey in his hand, dragged himself back to his bed and let alcohol slowly numb his thoughts.
Before he finally drifted back to sleep, he could swear he heard a wolf howling in the distance.
He ended up waking up later than usual.
He'll skip his morning run, then. Janos decided. He followed his other routine activities as usual: taking a quick shower, getting changed, cooking breakfast and eating, toothbrushing and face-washing, packing things needed for school...
Just in time to finish it all when a car honked outside.
"Isaac, Danny, glad to see you." Janos greeted. He locked the door behind him and made his way to the car parked in front of the house.
If beauty would manifest itself in the form of a human, it must be Isaac Lahey. The tall teen with blond curls and blue eyes seemed to be a character out of a renaissance painting, exhibiting a beauty almost to the extent of being divine. Even if he literally crawled through hell in his life, he could still be comfortable with himself, turning many heads walking down the hallway of high school with his natural confidence.
Danny Mahealani, on the other hand, was the same as his looks suggested, a down-to-earth and upbeat guy, a friendly face with an equally friendly attitude to match. Being friends with basically everyone at school, he's the most popular student without a doubt. Despite being an openly gay man, he, and his fellow gay students like Janos himself, experienced little discrimination unlike those living elsewhere in this backward and close-minded society. Lest those who judged be subjected to the wrath of Danny's less... amicable friends.
"Good to see you too, Jan." Isaac held out his fist as Janos climbed into the back seat next to him. Janos bumped his own fist against it.
"So, anything new?"
"We saw each other yesterday, Jan." Danny grinned, looking at them through the real view mirror.
"That's the meaning of news, don't you think?"
"I think heard a wolf last night." Isaac said casually.
"You too?" Janos was intrigued. So it wasn't his imagination then? "I could swear I heard a howl around midnight."
"You're both imagining voices then." Danny said, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel, " There's no wild wolf in California, no wolves were ever spotted since like, 60 years ago."
"A dog, then. Husky, maybe?" Janos hummed, not really believing in himself.
"Well, if it was, we would have heard it long before last night." Isaac argued, his brows skewed together in a deep frown. Apparently, he didn't believe that as well.
"Unless, someone new moved in town, which is completely possible." Danny pointed out, "Last I heard, Beacon Hills is still a quite popular commuter town."
"That being said, if there really is a wolf, then there would be an easy explanation to the body in the preserve." He added a moment later.
"What body?
"You haven't heard?" Isaac asked in surprise, "I thought everyone must have heard of that, considering nothing out of the ordinary ever happened here since, you know, the Hale fire."
"Two hikers found a body in the preserve yesterday evening." Danny explained, "Technically speaking they only found half, the upper half of the body went missing."
Suddenly skipping his usual morning jog wasn't so bad a decision anymore. Janos thought.
"You think a wolf might have been the killer?" He asked instead.
"I don't know, Jan. There's no way it's a wild wolf, but still it could be a wolf escaped from a private zoo or a circus, or somewhere like that."
"Or maybe it's a scientific experiment." Isaac added. He hastily explained seeing the confused expressions on his friends' faces. "I don't mean the wolf, I mean the wolf being here. Wasn't the wolves of Yellowstone also reintroduced after the original packs died off?"
The car pulled into the school parking lot, cutting their discussion short. Danny pulled up next to a shiny silver Porsche and killed the engine.
"Jackson's already here." Isaac said.
"Well, I'll find him and tell him about your wolf theory. He definitely won't be thrilled, considering how close he lives to the preserve." Danny hopped off his car, Isaac and Janos followed a moment later.
"I'm the one who literally lives on the edge of the forest, if anything I should be the most afraid one." Janos pointed out with a grin. "That being said, I think most of the times wolves would rather avoid humans, so probably nothing to worry about." Glancing at his watch, he added with a sigh, "Well, my first class is on the other side of the campus, so I'm off then, see you guys later!"
"Oh, and uh... Jan? Please come to the lacrosse practice after school. Jax would never admit it, but he loves to have you there." Isaac added nervously. Janos smiled in response.
"I'll be there."
School's a joke. Janos decided. He's been breezing through AP classes like a walk in the park. He knew he's smarter than others, not to brag but to state a fact, but couldn't the supposed Advanced Placement be a bit more advanced?
He also knew for a fact that Lydia Martin felt the same. Janos glanced at the redhead in question sitting to his right. She's smart, smarter than him, that's for sure. Also much more popular, to the extent of being the literal queen of the school, with a crown from last year's prom and all. By contrast, Janos never cared about popularity at all, to be honest, he'd rather avoid being in the centre of others' attention. He's more of a 'popular by association' type: not everyone could claim to be Jackson Whittemore and Lydia Martin's friend.
Several other students arrived at the training field just as the scrimmage was about to start. Most of them are semi-popular students who are friends with the lacrosse players - due to some reasons Janos never truly comprehended, an invitation to the first lacrosse practice of the semester seemed to be a sign of popularity. One of them, a brunette girl, however, Janos have never seen before. So that should be the new student everyone's been talking about.
"Ally! Here!" Lydia waved at the new girl, who smiled and came towards them, but not before throwing another smile at the field.
"Made a new friend, Lyds?" Janos smiled at the exchange. Good, she truly deserves one.
"New best friend actually, since she has this killer fashion sense. This is..."
"Hi, I'm Allison, Allison Argent." The new girl - apparently Allison - introduced herself.
"Radvilkos Janos. Nice to meet you."
"Is that... Hungarian?" She asked, uncertainty seeping into her voice, "So your given name is actually Janos, right?"
A string of laughter burst out of Lydia's chest, as she threw her head backwards and her reddish hair gleams under the sunlight.
"What's so funny?" Allison asked with confusion and a hint of fear.
"Oh no, it's nothing you did." Janos, although trying hard to suppress his own grin, explained quickly, "It's just... What took you seconds to realize took others years, literally. And yes, I'm Hungarian and my given name is Janos."
"You'll fit right into us, I'm sure." Lydia added, still cannot keep the laughter out of her voice.
"Well... I lived in France for about a year, and one of my classmates there was Hungarian, so I happened to know that." Allison said.
"You lived in France? That's so cool, no wonder you have your great fashion sense! I've been in France before, but only as a tourist..."
Janos let himself filter out Lydia's excited voice, and turned his focus onto the field. One can't not see Jackson Whittemore among his teammates. The undefeated captain, the proud prodigy, the absolute centre of everyone's attention, be it adoration or jealousy. And Jackson revelled in that, deliberately showing off himself like a strutting peacock. His golden hair gleamed under the warm afternoon sunlight, well-sculptured muscles rippling under his jersey with every move, his face, fit for Adonis himself, morphing into a blinding grin at something Danny said to him, his vibrant blue eyes, usually sharp with determination, now showing a rare moment of tenderness and playfulness. Said eyes caught Janos' own, and a wink was thrown at Janos, who replied with an affectionate grin, and turned his attention away.
The complete opposite of Jackson must be Mieczysław Stilinski, or to those who can't speak Polish, Stiles. That lanky boy was standing on the sidelines awkwardly, with no one nearby, apparently not playing today, and flailing wildly at his usual companion, Scott McCall, who was standing in front of the goal in goalie's gear, with a dejected look on his slightly asymmetric face.
Don't want to waste more time on that pair and their shenanigans, Janos continued his observation. He found Isaac easily enough, who gave him a little wave and a wide, warm smile. Matt Daehler stood nearby, and mirrored Isaac's actions, though his smile was more awkward in contrast with Isaac's clear elegance.
"Who was that? The goalie." He heard Allison ask.
"That would be Dann..." Lydia paused for a brief moment. "Wait, no. Sorry, don't know him. Why do you ask?"
"I think he's in my English class." Allison replied.
It was that moment when the coach of the lacrosse team, Finstock, blew his whistle, signalling the start of the practice. The players put on the helmets and stood in a line, with the exception of Stilinski, who sat down on the bleachers in front of them, then threw a leering grin at Lydia, who ignored him completely; and McCall, who was playing as goalie and acting all confused, turning his head around almost violently, apparently not knowing what to do. Isaac, the first in line, hesitated. Apparently, he didn't want to throw a ball at someone underprepared.
"What are you waiting for, Lahey? Fire your shot!" The coach bellowed.
And so Isaac made his shot. The ball sailed through the air, hit McCall in his face, and knocked him down on his arse. Thankfully that guy was wearing a helmet.
"Nice way to catch a ball, McCall!" The coach laughed, echoed by other players.
Danny went next. He caught the ball flung at him by the coach with ease, and rushed forwards to make his shot. The ball flew along a nice curve, and ended up being caught by McCall's stick.
Ah, that was their benevolent Danny boy, always trying to make others feel better. Janos smiled to himself. Stilinski, on the other hand, leapt to his feet and basically hollered, his hands waving about wildly. Janos decided not to burst his delusional bubble this time.
But he quickly realized something was out of the ordinary when McCall started to intercept shots after shots successfully, including a particularly ruthless one from Matt, eliciting more and more excited reactions from Stilinski, which he didn't even think was possible.
But then again, McCall being a competent goalie wasn't possible in his mind before now.
"He seems good." Allison remarked.
"Em... Yeah, very good." Lydia answered uncertainly. If Lydia Martin realized something's wrong, then it must be wrong.
Jackson was not thrilled by this development, as it seemed. He pushed his way to the front, received a ball from Coach Finstock, and charged.
This would be ugly. Janos grimaced. His eyes involuntarily followed the trajectory of the ball, his ears tuning into the low-pitched whistle signalling the sheer speed of the ball as it zoomed at the goal.
And landed into McCall's stick.
Stilinski squealed. Allison stood up and cheered loudly. Lydia hesitated for a moment and joined her with apparent enthusiasm. Janos won't blame her. Being Jackson's trophy girlfriend must be tiring, his personality and all. And in all honesty, she could really use a female friend, considering all her close friends are guys. Janos won't ruin that for her.
But he cannot unsee what McCall did on the field. Scott McCall, a lacrosse player with asthma so serious that Janos would sometime question the sanity or morality of Coach Finstock. Most of the time, both.
And then, a winter later, McCall's suddenly better than Danny in goalkeeping? Dare he say, becoming a better player than Jackson, who's been training in lacrosse for more than a decade, even?
Deeply unsettling. Janos frowned deeply. And equally intriguing.
He could see Jackson fuming on the edge of the field. When Jackson looked up and saw Lydia cheering, he seemed shellshocked, frozen on the ground unable to move. A mere moment later, Jackson turned away slightly, as if he can't bear the sight of his girlfriend cheering for another player, and unwittingly caught Janos' eyes. Janos could see hurt, anger, confusion and shame swirling in his eyes.
He sighed inwardly. No matter. He would pick up the pieces, keep Jackson sane and grounded, and perhaps drill some sportsmanship into Jackson's thick skull, just like he always...
A hand slapped the back of his head.
"Ow! Lydia, what's wrong with you?"
"Why aren't you cheering? That's hardly honourable, don't you think?" Lydia said with her no-nonsense voice.
"Cheering who?" He lied smoothly while glancing at the field below, just in time to see Jackson swatting off Isaac's hand on his shoulder, and jog back to his team, "Sorry, I was a bit distracted..."
"By...?" Her grin turned a bit predatory, as if expecting Janos to answer with 'your boyfriend's ass'.
"Mayakovsky's Pro eto. Satisfied? Or do I need to recite it for you?"
"Janos, you do realize that you have no obligation to show up here just because of those idiots, right?" Lydia sighed.
"I know, I know. I want to be here for them, though. So, no futurist poems until the end of the practice, got it." Janos rolled his eyes affectionately and turned his attention back to the field. His voice dropped to a whisper barely audible to himself.
"I don't know what's going on, I must admit I have no clue. But I... We will figure it out. Just like we always do."
"Jax, you do realise this is the second day of this semester, right?"
"Yeah, so?" Jackson shrugged.
"So don't you think it's a bit too early to throw a party?"
"No. Not at all." Jackson tried to hide his smirk, but failed spectacularly.
"Fine. Your party, your house, and your mess to clean up, by yourself. Why do I even bother?"
"Cause you love me?"
"Keep dreaming." Janos flipped him the bird absentmindedly. Then his mind snapped back to his work. "Jackson, what is this?" He pointed towards a small dish of light brown seeds in front of him.
"Caraway seeds? Why? You asked for that, right?"
"Yes, but Jax, these are fennel seeds, not caraway."
"Oh shit, sorry." Jackson ran his hand across his face, clearly frustrated by his mistake.
"Not a big deal, actually. They're similar enough to be used interchangeably." Janos assured his friend, adding the seeds into the stew on the stove.
"But still... Dude, I asked you to cook because I'm utterly useless in the kitchen, and then I can't even help you right..."
"I'm going to stop you right here, Jax." Janos interrupted. He won't let Jackson went down that path. "You learned a lot already, give yourself some credit. And let me be honest here, sometimes I myself get fennel and caraway confused. That mistake didn't mean you're bad at learning."
"Yeah, I still remember the first time you brought me into the kitchen." Jackson seemed to lighten up a bit, but Janos could tell something was still bothering him.
"I wish I don't." He retorted, without any real heat. He sprinkled the stew with grounded pepper and shut the lid of the casserole. "Well, all done. Just wait for about 90 minutes and it would be perfect with fettuccine. I trust you can handle that yourself?"
"Yeah, I'll be alright. Thanks, Jan. I owe you one."
"Now, will you tell me what's on your mind today? No wait, let me guess, it's McCall."
Jackson didn't answer, instead his face distorted into a sneer.
"So, confirmed." Janos sighed internally. He knew this is going to happen, but that doesn't mean he's anyhow prepared for it. Speaking from past experience, Jackson never fared well with someone performing better than him. This is going to be a tough talk, but hopefully he could knock some sense into Jackson.
"So, first of all, I agree with you, that's suspicious. How come he became so good in a winter? But, I can't say I'm surprised. I mean, have you see McCall playing? No? So you can't really be surprised that he has some skills in him that you never seen, cause you're too busy with others admiring you."
"Yeah, that's because I'm everyone's type." Jackson added when he saw Janos' expression, "You know I'm everyone's type."
"Sure you are." Janos teased with a smirk, "Anyway, my point is, you don't know McCall at all, while he got an entire semester to observe you and your playstyle, which never actually changes. Also, you're too quick to be angered, like how many times you lose temper last semester because of Stilinski? And the last thing you need on the field is to be controlled by your anger, not brain."
"You may have a point." Jackson gritted out, as if admitting Janos was right physically pained him, "Any other guy, I probably would agree with you. But McCall? He has fucking asthma! Even if, as you said, he knew my playstyle by heart - which, definitely not creepy, by the way - he wouldn't be able to react in time! I'm sure you know, knowing where the ball would be is completely different from actually catching it!"
"That's the part I'm still working on."
"Working on? Dude, I told you he's on steroids."
"And Danny told you steroids would change his voice!" Janos could literally feel his patience slipping away. How did he put up with Jackson for ten years without going insane? "And let me tell you, steroid won't cause sleepwalking, nor enhanced senses!"
"You believe in what he said!?" Jackson's positively fuming right now. Overcompetitive, hotheaded, stubborn bastard. Janos knew he's got a psycological reason, but still.
"First of all, bro, lose that attitude. I don't play lacrosse, I don't give a fuck about who's better than who, I'm only doing this because I'm your friend, and you happened to be this overcompetitive idiot. So stop yelling at me like I'm one of your chewtoys from lacrosse." Janos took a deep breath, calming himself down. This conversation would be going nowhere if they're both angry, and Jackson sure as hell won't calm down as fast as he could. "Second, it's McCall, not Stilinski, he can't be sarcastic to save his life. And third, were you mad? Going after him like that? That's a perfect way of letting him know he's suspecting you, and if he's really taking something dangerous, put your own safety at risk!" Failed. Damnit. Keeping his temper in check around Jackson was always a hard thing for him to do.
"And what are you planning to do? Stare at him?" Jackson being sarcastic. Good. He realized his errors. In a sense. Anyway, this conversation's saved, for now.
"To a certain extent, yes. Tryouts is tomorrow, right?" When Jackson nodded, he continued, "Good. I want you to go against McCall, and don't hold back."
"You bet I won't." Jackson grumbled, which Janos promptly ignored.
"I asked Matt to help. He will record the entire tryouts and give the footage to Danny. Afterwards, we can analyze it and see McCall's just lucky, really became better, or on steroids." Janos continued, "Although Lydia won't help me with the plan, she seems to believe you need a blow to your ego. What did you do to her this time?"
Jackson opened his mouth, but Janos never got a chance to hear his reply. They heard the distinct sound of a key turning in the keyhole, and the front door swung open a moment later.
"Dad? I thought you and mom are working overnight?" Jackson frowned, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"I forgot an important document at home, Jackson. We are working overnight." David Whittemore, Jackson's father, replied, running his hand across his forehead, only to stop abruptly when he caught sight of Janos. "Mr Radvilkos. This is... quite a surprise."
"A pleasant surprise indeed, sir." Janos nodded, taking on a slightly mocking tone.
Apparently the same cannot be said for Mr Whittemore, however, as he went upstairs straight away, but not before throwing an annoyed glare at Janos. Jackson let out a muffled snicker behind him. Janos decided to ignore his friend's childish behaviour.
"So, Mr. Radvilkos, you're still interested in philosophy, I assume?" When Mr Whittemore came down with a thick folder tucked beneath his arm, he made another effort to converse with Janos. Well, Janos won't let him have his satisfaction so easily.
"Not so much as before, sir." Janos smiled smoothly, chuckling to himself when he saw Mr Whittemore's suddenly interested expression, "I recently took a keen interest in theatrical and poetic arts." The face fell back into a scowl. Janos nearly snorted. "In fact, I found the works of the Soviet poet Vladimir Mayakovsky to be immensely interesting, especially his literary style of socialist futurism." Janos was having the time of his life, revelling at the sight of Mr Whittemore's face souring the moment he heard the word 'socialist'. He was trying his best not to laugh out loud now.
Mr Whittemore managed to grit out a response, his face slightly red, probably due to anger. "I'm sure it's an interesting read." He then turned to Jackson, "Son, we'll come home tomorrow afternoon." Without waiting for any confirmation or response from Jackson, he stormed out of his own house, slamming the door behind him.
Janos did laugh out loud this time, Jackson followed suit seconds later.
"Oh well, it's been fun and all." After several minutes of laughing, Janos finally said, his voice still breathy from laughing too hard. "But I have to leave, you know, I need to do homework, water the garden, make myself something to eat..."
"Play with your sword..." Jackson added smugly. Crude.
"Would you rather me playing swords with you?" At Jackson's disgusted expression, Janos grinned. "There we go. Have fun preparing for the party, I'll see you later, then." He mock-saluted and turned towards the door.
"Jan, wait!" Jackson said behind him, and he turned around to face his friend as Jackson continued. "Thank you for doing that. I don't mean the entire McCall thing, I mean... you know."
"What? Pissing off your father?" Janos shrugged.
"My adoptive father, but yeah, that."
"I don't know what are you talking about." Janos grinned, "He's the one who branded me as a dirty commie."
"Seriously, you're the best, dude."
The party was in full swing when Janos arrived at the Whittemore residence again. Jackson greeted him with a half-hug, then disappeared into the crowd again. Instead of diving right into the scene, Janos decided to find someone first.
He found Isaac sitting in an armchair on the balcony, overlooking the entire scene, sipping a cup of ginger ale. After what happened... before, Janos couldn't imagine Isaac would be comfortable with drinking alchohol anymore.
"Hey, Zac." He sat down beside the tall teen, "Escaping the crowd here?"
"And tacky music!" Isaac complained, gesturing towards the people swinging about below them.
"I'll relay that complaint to Jax, then. Glad to know I'm not alone in this." Janos stopped for a moment, listening to some random pop song blasting through the air. He's always surprised that no one, party-goers or neighbours alike, ever complained about the noise. But then again, it's not like any complaints were filled against more disturbing noises before. "Jax sure knows how to entertain a crowd, I'll hand it to him, but he's not the best when it comes to fresh experiences."
"Yeah, don't get me wrong, it's fun and all, but I got bored pretty fast when every single party is just like the other."
"Hey Zac, Jan." They turned towards the glass door seperating Jackson's bedroom and the balcony and saw Matt standing there, a red cup in hand.
"How are you tonight, Matt? Escaping the crowd as well?" Isaac asked, gesturing the newcomer to sit down.
"More like the pool." Matt muttered under his breath.
Right. The pool. Janos winced slightly. The mood suddenly soured as distant, and equally unpleasant memories rushed back into their minds. He struggled to suppress a shiver, while trying his best to keep his eyes away from the uninhabited house across the street. Isaac failed at both.
No one can escape their past, it seems.
"I think," He said out loud, more to expell the awkwardness and bad memories than actually trying to converse. "We should go and find Danny. I haven't seen him yet tonight."
"Great idea, Jan. Let's go, then. I really hope Danny could talk some sense into Jax on how to run an interesting party." Isaac visibly relaxed.
"After you two." Janos gestured, "I'll lock the balcony door." Matt nodded and took Isaac's arm, pulling him into the house, then out of Jackson's bedroom. Janos lingered on a moment longer, throwing an uncertain glance at the abandoned house, itself only a dark silhouette with the moon shining bright behind it. This is not the right time to dwell upon some distant memories. He decided, and finally stepped back into the house, locking the door behind him, and wandered downstairs.
He avoided the clusters of party-goers scattered around Jackson's living room, instead he went straight to the backyard, the epicenter of all activities. He knew he would find Jackson there, and hopefully, Danny, too. Not wanting to push through the thickest of the group, he opted for the long way along the colonnade, where less people was there compared to the area around the pool, but still packed nonetheless. His eyes scanned the seemingly endless crowd for the ones he wanted to find, but something else he caught a glimpse of had him stopped dead in his track. Or more precisely, someone.
Under the light of the full moon, he could see the silhouette of a man standing on the other side of the fence. He couldn't make out the face of that man, though, as the stranger hid, perhaps deliberately, his face in the shadows.
Who would creep around a high school party like that? Many possible answers flashed through his mind, none of them he found particularly likable.
Against his better judgement, he began to move through the crowd as subtle as he could manage. That was, until freaking Scott McCall rammed into him with such a force that he was almost knocked over, loosing his sight on the mysterious man when he tried to catch his breath and regain his footings. McCall apparently left without even apologizing. Rude.
When Janos finally looked up again, he realized there was no one under the shadows anymore. Just a blink of an eye, that figure was gone.
Janos went jogging in the preserve as usual the next day. Sure, McCall may have became some lacrosse prodigy overnight, a girl moved from San Francisco to Beacon Hills of all places, and somehow half a body was found in the preserve, but life still and must go on and it was never a good time to dwell.
Shit. That body in the preserve. He actually never thought of what he would do if he found the other half of the body, or worse, its killer. Janos glanced at the rondel dagger strapped to his belt. Good thing he remembered to bring a weapon with him.
The morning mist obscured his vision, so he didn't realize until it's too late that someone has been following him on the winding woodland trail. He turned around to confront the stalker. It was a man in a leather jacket and a pair of jeans, looking like someone in their late 20s, and wearing a scowl on his face. Janos' hand flew to his dagger almost instinctually.
But he froze completely as soon he took a good look at that man's face, and something clicked in his mind. It's someone he never imagined he would ever see again. Not in Beacon Hills, at least.
Derek Hale.