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Sheriff Stilinski had been working another double on a long string of double shifts and he was exhausted. There were times when he could barely see straight and he was running off coffee fumes. Not even actual coffee – just the fumes. Maybe that was what finally allowed him to connect some dots.
He knew he wasn’t doing all that well – he went to work to avoid his son. His son who had caught on and had even stopped dropping off lunches or asking if he’d be back for dinner. His son who was home even less than he was. His son who was skipping school and getting detentions and hanging around former murder suspects – and even showing up at every thrice damned crime scene this small town had.
For such a small town, crime had really seemed to pick up serial killer after serial killer, animal attack after animal attack. It was odd, wasn’t it? This town had had its first big tragedy with the Hale Fire, and from then on it was like the town was cursed. The Argents had gotten the hell out of dodge, only to return and stir up more chaos. What with Kate Argent being revealed to be the arsonist behind the Hale fire and with Victoria Argent’s suicide. Gerard Argent even came around only to mysteriously disappear after assaulting two high school students; Erica Reyes – the epileptic girl – and Vernon Boyd. Now all that was left of the once large Argent clan was Chris and his daughter Allison. Of course with the murder of the entire Hale family (save one former murder suspect, Derek Hale) being pinned on the Argents and the assault by Gerard, no one really wanted to associate with them.
Well, all except one Scott McCall who was head over heals for the daughter; the youngest Argent with so much potential to be just like her family. And because she seemed to be just as smitten with Scott as he was with her, she had an awful lot of interaction with Stiles.
But wait. And a bell went off in his head.
Didn’t Stiles… hang out with Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd too? And he spent more time with the last surviving Hale – who he still wasn’t convinced was completely innocent – than he had been with Scott lately. Or so he heard from the ladies at the grocery store. Hale was dangerous and spent way too much time with teenagers for someone his age and unemployed.
But something was missing and it bothered the Sheriff. The night that Erica and Vernon had claimed Gerard had kidnapped them was the same night that Stiles had disappeared and then shown up with the injuries he couldn’t explain. Stiles, who at least spent a lot of time with the two victims before they were kidnapped by his best friend’s girlfriend’s grandfather.
(And now that he thought about it, Erica, Vernon and Stiles all seemed to be avoiding Allison too… or at least they had been for a while.)
Stiles who was close with the last Hale who’s family ahad all been murdered by the Argent family. Stiles had a lot of reasons to dislike both a mysteriously missing Gerard and a mysteriously dead Kate. Add in the idea that Stiles had been assaulted along with the two, and if he knew about what Kate had done to Derek specifically – and he did because it was his research that had tipped the police department off about that particular lead.
It really didn’t help that Stiles was conveniently missing while all of the murders and attacks went down. Not to mention all the times that his kid and his kid’s DNA kept showing up all over crime scenes. And come to think of it, Isaac Lahey was now living with Derek Hale (Erica and Vernon spent all their free time with the duo as well) after his abusive father was murdered.
Lord knows that the Sheriff knows his son had a vindictive streak a mile wide. And if it wasn’t like he couldn’t be a vicious little bugger. The Sheriff still remembered that time Stiles had seriously injured the Whittemore boy when he stole Scott’s inhaler. Heck he’d even kidnapped him in a police van as part of a prank war. Was it really so far fetched that Stiles would want to get revenge for the pain his friends had suffered. Combine that with Derek’s influence…
But murder? Especially murder brutal enough to be pined on a mountain lion and a serial arsonist?
Stiles was certainly clever enough to frame someone else for a crime, and he grew up surrounded by police; he knew how to get around the law.
But that was absurd. Stiles was a good kid, he wouldn’t murder even if the people might have deserved it. And his son was a shit liar. He wouldn’t have been able to hide it. Although… he had been spending more and more time at the station – lots of deputies had been killed and they were tight on staff, his deputies had families they needed to spend time with – and he didn’t see Stiles more than once every 5 days. Maybe this was an attention thing?
No, the murders were only making it harder for him to get home. Stiles would know that. So then is it the opposite? Was Stiles hiding something?
He was cut from his reverie by someone knocking on his office door. He looked up to see one of his deputies looking worried. “Sir?” he asked, shifting uncomfortably in the entrance. “More bodies have been found, and these ones are a little different.” He said, immediately catching the Sheriff’s attention. He stood up, pushing his unhealthy lunch to the side and grabbing his gun.
“Let’s go then.”
When he arrived at the scene, he was honestly horrified. The victims had never been cleanly killed but this one was honestly one of the worst things that he’d seen in his life. There were 3 bodies that looked to have been killed on site. There was blood and chunks of flesh flung everywhere, and it was still fresh. Some of the younger deputies were gagging at the stench. They couldn’t even ID the bodies because of the damage.
The bodies looked to have been torn apart by some sort of wild animal, but they knew this killer was human because of the distinct lack of physical evidence. You’d think that that would be cause to believe that it was a wild animal, but it was like someone had doctored the scene so that the human aspect would be less obvious or even completely absent. However, they (whoever the killer was) must have been in a rush because it was sloppily done.
There was burn marks on the corpses, and even shot gun wounds on one of them. Still smoldering herbs and ashes kicked off to the far side of the crime scene and there was even a partial shoe print in the grassy dirt patch by the door: ratty converse if the print and distortion is anything to go by. But that wasn’t the thing that stuck out about this crime scene the most.
It was the ripped – more like torn to shreds – and blood stained red hoody that had been dumped behind a dumpster only 15 ft away. Someone clearly wasn’t paying too much attention, and judging by the blood, that didn’t match the victims, for good reason. But that hoody combined with the converse, and the bandages he’d seen on Stiles’ arm hidden clumsily under his shirt that morning painted a very bad picture.
The Sheriff felt all the blood drain from his face as pieces started fitting together. Stiles being friends with not one, but two, former murder suspects; Stiles showing up at the crime scenes, any evidence of his presence was overlooked by the police; Stiles never being home and causing/being involved in trouble at school. None of it helped the Sheriff believe that Stiles just wasn’t involved.
He'd been keeping too many secrets and getting his nose stuck in too many suspicious activities.
He had been pondering all of the evidence stacking up against his son when one of his deputies walked up to him with a grim expression on his face. “Sir, we were able to get a match for the blood on the hoodie and the skin underneath the nails of the victims.” He said somberly. The Sheriff frowned.
“Isn’t that a good thing?” he asked confused. “this will lead us to a suspect.”
The deputy shifted uncomfortably, fiddling with the bag of evidence he was holding. “Sir, it’s your son. The DNA matches one Stiles ‘Mieczyslaw’ Stilinski.” The Sheriff could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment. Before, he probably could have talked himself out of believing that Stiles was involved in this like all the other times that something suspicious had happened and Stiles was there, but now… Now Stiles was their only murder suspect.
There was only one thing that could be done now. They needed to arrest Stiles, and if the murders didn’t continue while he was I custody, then they’d need to start looking back through evidence to find Stiles’ connections to all previous cases. The previous murders might be connected back to him as well. Not a thing that anyone wants to see for their kid, let alone the Sheriff. But he couldn’t think properly anymore. It made too much sense.
His kid was a serial killer.
Soon the majority of the police department found themselves outside of Beacon Hils High School. They didn’t know when Sti- the serial killer wouldn’t strike again or at who (because the victims were all random – even high school students!) and Stiles was surrounded by hundred upon hundred of innocent possible victims. Too many teens had been murdered already.
Even if Stiles turned out to be innocent – and with all the evidence (even if it was circumstantial at best) it was looking les and less likely with every passing minute – they still couldn’t risk the chance that he wasn’t innocent.
The Sheriff sighed as he and 5 deputies entered the main office. It was going to be a pain to explain this situation to the new principal, but they had to do it.
“Principal Smith,” he greeted, inclining his head in respect. The principal was new, having arrived in the small town of Beacon Hills the month before to replace the last principal who had taken a mental health leave. He was still young and bright eyed despite all the murders happening lately. He was probably from a big city.
The man smiled in confusion, getting up from behind his desk, his hands in his pockets. “Sheriff,” he acknowledged. “What are you doing here? Especially during school hours.” He asked, oddly enough not reaching for a handshake despite how open and friendly he was.
The Sheriff’s mouth curved into a light scowl as he spoke. “I’m afraid that we have a suspect for the latest serial killer.” He informed, a certain kind of bone deep weariness beginning to seep into his posture. Smith’s smile slipped off of his face as he sobered up at the dark revelation.
“Do what you have to do. Do you need to know what class they’re in at the moment?” he asked, moving back behind his desk and towards the computer that sat there. The Sheriff nodded and said the name.
“Stiles Stilinski.”
The principal froze, staring shocked at tall the assembled officers. Even some of the deputies stiffened at the blatant statement. It was one thing for them all to suspect that it was the Sheriff’s son, but it was another thing for the Sheriff to actually say what they were all thinking.
“S-Stiles Stilinski?!” one of the secretaries gasped in surprise. “But he’s such a nice boy, even if he is a little bit of a delinquent.” She said, placing a hand over her heart.
Another receptionist nodded, “yes, and he’s your son!” she yelled, scandalized. His face hardened at her exclamation. Did she think he didn’t know that?!
“Obviously I don’t know him well enough because his DNA turned up all over the latest scene. If there’s even the slightest chance that he’s behind all the deaths, I owe it to the public to remove him from the equation.” He said in his definite ‘no arguments’ voice.
Nobody spoke up in objection despite some looking like they’d want to.
“He’s currently in room 267 upstairs with Mr. Harris.” The principal said quietly, looking very reluctant to tell the Sheriff this, although… there was an odd gleam in his eye. The Sheriff decided to ignore it for now. Possibly, Smith was just annoyed with Stiles’ existence – wouldn’t be the first time – or even the glint or shine could be from sadness for the Sheriff and the situation in general.
Nodding to the principal in thanks for both the words spoken and unspoken. Then, he and his deputies began to make their way to the science wing of the school He knew that Mr. Harris was a chemistry teacher, and room 267 was bund to be somewhere in that area of the school.
Luckily or not, the walk was short, and in seemingly no time at all, they were standing in the doorway of the lab. Mr. Harris was writing something on the board and ranting about something – was that forensics? Of course, that was when Stiles chose to make himself known in an incredibly obnoxious way by ranting about the time it took for someone to bleed out.
Why would he know this down to almost exact minutes for certain weight classes?
Mr. Harris gave him a detention without even turning around. That was of course when the Sheriff decided to speak up – because Stiles had to get the dramatic flare from somewhere – and startle just about everyone, although… Stiles and Scott remained unaffected. They may have looked confused, but not shocked by their sudden appearance like the rest of their peers.
“I’m afraid Stiles will be unable to serve those detentions.” The Sheriff said, looking sadly at the wall in an effort to avoid meeting hi son’s confused eyes. The eyes that reminded him too much of his dead wife.
“Dad?” Stiles said, slowly standing up as he spoke. The Sheriff nodded, and as one, the deputies began to make their way through the aisle of desks towards Stiles.
Scott looked very alarmed as his eyes shifted between Stiles and the Sheriff in a panic. Scott knew something. He would have to look into it later. He’d have to look into all of Stiles’ friends judging by the shifty eyes one Lydia Martin was giving the deputies.
“Mieczyslaw Stilinski, you are under arrest for being suspected with reasonable evidence of being responsible for the deaths of 3 known victims. You have the right…” he said in a monotone tone, his face wiped clean f all emotion and set in a stoic expression. Stiles gaped at his father as the rest of the class gasped in shock. It was one thing when someone was arrested in the middle of class, another when it was for murder and not drug possession, but it was an entirely different situation when the teen being arrested was none other than Stiles Stilinski; the resident problematic genius and the Sheriff’s son.
Nobody could believe that this was happening. Sure there was a lot of rumours based on the idea that Stiles was a high ranking member in a gang (the evidence was all there. Stiles was part of the group of mismatched but incredibly skilled and scary teens and they seemed to always turn to him for answers. That is, unless one Derek Hale, ex-murder suspect, was present. Hale who Stiles also seemed suspiciously close to) but it was another to see heard evidence. Catching Stiles making out with a man 7 years older didn’t count, and neither did mysterious injuries and actions. Those could all be explained away.
Now, Stiles was being arrested right in front of them. For being suspected of being a serial killer. Holy shit!
“Dad…” he whispered as his father – no the Sheriff, continued to read him his rights. He was too shocked to actually do anything about it and sort of just slumped in the deputies’ grip. Scott’s jaw was dropped as he stared at the Sheriff with a betrayed look. Even Lydia looked furious at the situation, but all the fight drained from Stiles at the blank look on his father’s face.
He went quietly, knowing that it would just make it worse if he fought. He knew that they wouldn’t be able to convict him. The evidence was circumstantial at best.
His pack would take care of it if necessary.
The first thing that Scott and Lydia did as soon as Stiles was taken from the classroom was text Derek. The teacher knew enough about teens to know that after what happened that class would not be continuing. Everyone was whispering frantically to each other and glancing at the furious red head and the puppy like boy who seemed like he was about to cry.
Stiles had just been arrested.
Almost immediately, Derek texted them back, asking them to get the others and head over to the loft as soon as they could.
Without even so much as glancing at the teacher, the two grabbed their boys and walked out of the classroom. They need to get this fixed now because if the police kept digging they were going to find things that they didn’t want to find. They ignored the stares of the other students milling in the hallway as they walked a ta brisk speed towards the classrooms that held the rest of the pack. Lydia was texting furiously as she kept pace with the distressed werewolf.
Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Allison, and Danny were all practically running out of their classrooms to join them as they fled the school. Some teachers might have tried to stop them, but in their panicked state, they didn’t notice they needed to get to the loft. Derek would know what to do. So they all piled into Allison, Lydia, and Jackson’s cars before speeding over. They needed a plan.
When they arrived at the loft, Derek and Peter were already waiting there for them, Derek talking quietly on the phone. Peter ushered them all in, glaring at the onlookers who were watching curiously. Upon their entry, Derek immediately put the phone on speaker phone so that the human members could also hear the conversation.
“So my da- the Sheriff apparently found part of my hoody as well as some of my blood at the scene of the murder, and because I’ve been suspiciously there at too many crime scenes, they think I’m their latest serial killer. One of the deputies even has a theory that I was behind everything and was framing other people to get away with it.” Stiles was saying, his voice surprisingly calm and controlled which was no doubt freaking out whoever was supervising the call.
“I’ve contacted Peter. We’ll take care of this Stiles. Don’t worry about it alright? We’ll have you out of there as soon as possible.” Derek said in a low soothing tone. Despite Stiles’ apparent outward calmness, they could feel his anxiety through the pack bond. As alpha, it was Derek’s jo to handle things, and judging by the slightly murderous glint in his eyes, it might not end pretty.
“I know. I trust you. See you in 36 hours, Sourwolf. Take care of the others while I’m gone.” Then the phone call ended.
Derek dropped the phone on the couch and turned to his pack. “We knew that this would happen eventually,” his voice was a deep gravelly tone, very serious and alpha like. Now was not the time for joking around. “Now, does anyone have any ideas on how we can fix this?” he asked seriously.
“Well,” Peter drawled, “the police are no doubt going to unofficially put all of you under surveillance soon, so you must be careful. The police know you’ve contacted a Peter, so get that one lawyer on the phone since I’m still legally dead. I can do more of r us if I’m off the grid.” He explained, getting nods from the other pack members.
“That still doesn’t fix the fact that Stiles was actually the one to kill over half of those invading witches. How do we get the police off our scents?” Erica asked, curling into Boyd’s side.
They sat in science for a moment before Scott (of all people) spoke up with a surprisingly reasonable plan. “What if we had Peter kill someone? There ahs to be someone! And then they’ll know that they got it wrong because the killer is still at large or whatever.”
“But what if they just think that he had a partner?” Jackson countered.
“No, wait. That’s actually a good idea!” Lydia said suddenly, looking like a lightbulb had just gone off inside her head.
“It was?” Scott said, shocked. Lydia nodded her head.
“Yes, if Peter kills someone DNA leaves Stiles’ DNA or other evidence like things behind while ‘attempting’ to disguise it as an animal attack, then they’ll see that a killer was framing Stiles. The police will feel really dumb then.” Derek raised an eyebrow, actually impressed for once in his life.
“Then is that what we’re going with?” he asked, already moving to call his lawyer (who just so happened to also be named Peter) in case this didn’t work out. The others nodded in the affirmative anyways. “Okay then. Peter, you know what you need to do, and the rest of you head home. Act normal. This will all be over soon.”
They’d all split up, subconsciously traveling in pairs to their separate house holds after returning to the school briefly.
“Are you really okay with Peter just killing someone? I know you have your issues with doing the right thing.” Isaac said worriedly as he and Scott walked to the McCall house hold.
Scott shifted, looking far down the road and avoiding eye contact. “Stiles and the pack’s safety are more important than my moral struggles. Besides, everyone in Beacon Hills already thinks that we’re a gang. Why not play it up a little, even if no one will know. We’re like the Family in Beacon Hills now that both the Hales and the Argents are down to two members each and have lowkey merged.”
Isaac raised his eyebrow. “If you’re sure.” He might have said more but they had now arrived at the McCall house. But something was wrong. A police cruiser was sitting beside Melissa’s car and there was 3 heartbeats in the house. They paused outside the house for a moment, taking that instant to compose themselves before acting for their lives. Pushing open the door, Scott follows Isaac inside.
Melissa is sitting on the couch, the two deputies that Isaac vaguely remembers seeing the last time he was at the station, were sitting across from her. They look like they were waiting for Scott to get back, maybe even Isaac despite the fact that he lived with Derek legally. “Scott! Oh I’m so glad you’re okay!” Melissa says as she pulls her son into a tight hug, her back to the two officers. “These kid officers are her to protect us. They tell me that we might be Stiles’ next victims because we’re close to him and he’s proved to be able to kill those who are close to him, what with what happened to Heather and your classmate Matt.”
She was speaking loud enough that it would appear like she was horrified by the idea of it, but not unreceptive. She was putting on a show though, because as soon as she had said her piece she immediately began whispering so quietly that only a werewolf could hear. “At least that’s what they told me after seeing my reaction to the news. They’re really here to make sure none of us are involved. I assume that you guys have a plan.” She hisses.
Scott nods imperceptibly, patting his mother’s back as if reassuring her, knowing she’d understand. “C’mon mom, you know Stiles wouldn’t do something like that!” he said as she moved to hug Isaac as well. “This entire mess will be cleaned up soon enough. Stiles will be back and bugging you in no time.” He grinned his naïve puppy grin. He knew people saw him as stupid, and now was the time to play it up.
This type of comment from former murder suspect Isaac Lahey would be worrying. But poor formerly asthmatic Scott McCall who couldn’t hurt a fly? No way would people even blink at the naïve and hopeful comment. But his mom would get the message. They had a plan and it would get Stiles off without too many questions. Or so they hoped.
God, Scott had been spending way too much time around Stiles’ influence. He’d been the one to suggest murder as a solution this time. In the past he’d been Mr. Morals – seeing only in black and white. However after spending so much time with Stiles making the plans (and even working with Jackson and Derek) he’d started to let go of that rigid outlook. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it.
In a town like beacon Hills, no one could afford n to think in black and white only. It would just get you killed.
“I’m sure we’ll be very safe, Ms. McCall.” Isaac said in a placating manner, glancing nervously at the two deputies. It wasn’t all for show either.
Melissa ushered them in farther, sitting the both of them down on the couch across from the police officers. She didn’t comment on how formal Isaac was being with her, which was definitely as strong indicator of how unsettled she was. “Now these lovely young men are going to explain the situation and what’s going to happen next.”
The next time that the teenage pack members were able to see each other without their police escorts was at lunch the next day. They all met up at their table in the back of the cafeteria. Everyone was giving them a wide berth, aware that the balance of the group was thrown by a handle on things between the group and the rest of the school. No one wanted to even look at them without Stiles as a protective buffer.
So they were actually left alone.
“So, does anyone know how our timeline is working? Stiles will no doubt be getting anxious by now.” Scott asked, picking at his food. Allison leaned into his side, pulling out her phone.
“Peter texted me at 3 AM last night – this morning? – and he said that the police didn’t appear to have settled on a murder schedule. So they’ll probably just assume tat the ‘real killer’ is devolving.” She said. “Peter didn’t want to say too much about what he was going to do – plausible deniability and all that – but I do know that it’s going to happen today during school hours so that they don’t assume that we did it Being legally dead is working well for Peter.”
Isaac nodded. “I told Ms. McCall that Derek had agreed to let me sleep over last night so that the police officer tailing me wouldn’t head to his apartment. He did text last night though, said his lawyer would be on call if things don’t go great. I feel like he might call the station just to stall.”
There was a pause as everyone continued eating, the wolves’ eyes flickering around the roo to check that their tails weren’t in the cafeteria. “When Stiles is released, I’ll scrub the records like I did for Isaac and Derek. I hadn’t head the chance before, but I think that the Sheriff’s stations is due for a karma induced power outage and subsequent record loss. A virus or two if Stiles doesn’t object.” Danny said, smiling sweetly as if he just old a joke. None of the other random students were any the wiser as to what he was discussing.
It was widely believed that Danny was the innocent one and people then tended to over look his hacking skills. He may have been considered white hat once upon a time, but pack came first.
After the events of the semi-formal spring fling, Lydia’s intelligence had been revealed. Her cool indifferent and calculating gaze put people off, and it was very obvious that she was the researcher and strategist of the group. The student Boyd had seen her with giant tomes in Latin enough to just not want to question it anymore. Other roles were uncertain as Scott, Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Jackson and even Allison just seemed to protect the two and Stiles. They’re like the muscle and protection. They couldn’t find set roles for them. But Scott seemed to be the lieutenant almost. However, everyone was sure that Derek Hale was the leader, but it was Stiles that they’d had the hardest time placing.
If this was indeed a gang, then what the hell was the Sheriff’s kid doing in it? H was confusing too, going on and on about how weak he is while annoying the others. And yet Derek Hale suspected murderer kept him around and even seemed to like him. There was always the ‘in with the police’ theory, but that didn’t explain why everyone turned to him whenever something strange would happen. Normally, you’d think they’d turn to Lydia Martin (or even Scott McCall because he seems to be the right hand man now based off body language – they’d had a lot of time to observe their behaviour okay) but every time they turn to the pale Polish boy.
The answer had of course only come to them after Stiles had been arrested as suspected brutal serial killer. It was so obvious looking back on it, but they really didn’t have all that much knowledge on how gangs interact. It was actually a new transfer student from a big city that had explained organized crime to them. He used to live in New York before San Francisco, and his dad hadn’t exactly been clean either.
The role that Stiles held was the Left Hand. The one who made the tough decisions and handled all the dirty work. The true second of the group despite the Right Hand’s fronting. Stiles was admittedly the only one in the group with the temperament to handle such apposition.
Of course the pack knew all about what the school thought of them. They weren’t exactly subtle. They sat in an uneasy silence for the rest of the lunch.
True to Scott’s prediction, Stiles was released very soon. Peter’s murder had gone without a hitch. He’d found some good for nothing nobody who was new to the town and ripped the body apart before leaving some of Stiles blood and clothes (they’d had a bag of it hidden by the old Hale House because Stiles didn’t want his father to be suspicious – that worked well) to ‘frame’ the teen. The police ate it right up. Most of them having not wanted to believe that Stiles was capable of something as horrifying as that. They’d seen the kid grow up. It’s hard to believe for everyone.
Approximately 36 hours after he was arrested and 7 hours after the latest murder was committed, the Sheriff walked into holding looking shell shocked. He’d been among the first at the scene that was near identical to the scene that had convinced them it was Stiles. Unless it was one of the deputies (or a partner – but it didn’t seem like the work of more than one person) then no one should have known what it looked like well enough to perfectly imitate the ‘signature’.
This was certainly enough evidence to prove that Stiles was innocent. After all, Stiles had been in holding while the murder occurred, and all of his friends had dutifully been in class. Even Derek Hale had been on the phone with a lawyer all day. It couldn’t have been any of them, and Stiles didn’t really know anyone else. He might have questioned Chris Argent, but the Argent had been in Europe for the past two weeks.
Stiles wasn’t the killer. He almost couldn’t believe it.
Why was it harder to believe his son was innocent than guilty?
“Stiles,” his voice cracked slightly as he gazed at his son sitting in the cell. He was on the floor, his back leaning against the wall with one leg bent and his hair (since when had Stiles stopped getting a buzzcut?) cast a shadow over his eyes. His mouth was set in a hard line and his fingers were twirling a pen almost absent mindedly.
“Well, Sheriff, here to set me free? It has been just a little more than the required 36 hours.” Stiles’ voice rang sarcastically through the room. The Sheriff flinched at the bite in his tone. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. Being called ‘the Sheriff’ instead of ‘dad’ hurt, but he understood why. It was his own fault after all.
Yeah,” he said instead, his voice thick with an unknown emotion. Guilt? “If you can wait a few minutes, I’ll grab my stuff and then drive you home.” He said as he unlocked the cell and held it open. Stiles stood up and walked out of the room, stopping just past the doorway to look over his shoulder.
“No thanks. Derek should be here any minute now. I’ll just head over to his. Don’t wait up.” And then he was gone. He had enough control to not run out of the station, but not enough to stop himself from hugging the life out of Derek upon seeing him and pressing his face into his neck in a subconscious show of gratefulness. He missed the pack, even thought it had been only a little over a day and a half. He needed the pack. He needed his alpha. And they came through. Derek indulged him and hugged back before gently prying him off of himself and shoving him into the passenger seat of the Camaro.
“Well Mr. Smith! You’ve certainly created quite the problem for us. You didn’t think you’d get away with this, right?” Stiles was grinning widely as he twirled a baseball bat covered in barbed wire and blood in his hand as he stood confidently over the man that was his principal for a few short weeks. He’s wearing another red hoody – this one only has a couple tears and claw marks in it.
Scott and Isaac are scrubbing all bits of evidence of their presence from their current location. They’re in the school’s main office and all the security cameras are broken and in pieces on the floor. The others are watching so that no one ends up walking in on this scene and that no one will suspect their involvement.
Derek is standing behind him along with t the others that weren’t on the look out. They made quite the intimidating picture. Mr. Smith lay on the ground covered in magic burns and bruised scratches. Smith looks scared as he stares up. His body is broken, and Stiles had done something to his magic. He was defenseless.
“You thought you could escape after we took out your coven. Well, we knew there was one left. You should have run from Beacon Hills as soon as you had the chance. But it’s too late for that.” Stiles was going full evil villain monologue at this point. It was something he found fun, so the pack let him do it. He had been the reason that Stiles had been arrested.
The last dark witch moved his jaw as if to say something, but Stiles didn’t give him the chance. In one quick move, he swung the bat and took of the witch’s head, crushing his skull. Blood was everywhere, but Stiles looked pleased. Unfortunately Scott and Jackson were there to ruin the moment.
“I know that I stopped getting so uppity about you killing people Stiles, but did you really have to kill him like that?” Scott whined. He looked very green as he did his best to ignore what was happening.
“Ew, Stilinski. You got blood all over you! Such a pain.” Jackson complained as he threw a rag at his face. Accepting the gesture for what it was, Stiles then turned to Scott, deciding to not pick a fight with Jackson right now.
“He was a loose end! He knew I was the one who got rid of his coven. His DNA would have been at the scene. Once the cops figured that out all it would take was a word from him and my ass would be back in jail! I wouldn’t survive in jail Scott. All the other bodies were mutilated so we’ll let people assume that the ‘killer’ just had a vendetta against him and his friends.” He refuted.
“After all, everyone knows that newcomers don’t last long in Beacon Hills.”