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Stiles takes his seat across the professor, trying to hide his hands trembling. He’s got this, okay, it’s just an exam. It’s not like that time he had to take down a Wendigo with a box of matches and a can of deodorant – this is easy.
“Mister Stilinski” the man smiles, “What made you decide you wanted to study criminology?”
“My dad’s a sheriff back home” he says, “I’ve been sneaking peeks at his cases since I was twelve, solving cases since I was sixteen. I don’t really think I ever had any other choice.”
“Hmm” he smiles and writes down a few things, “Well, let’s start the exam. You wrote a paper on criminals with delusions, and you are here to defend it.”
“Yes, sir” he says, the man takes the paper out and a notebook, “I’m ready to answer all of your questions.”
“Good” he smiles, “Okay, you have an entire chapter dedicated to a woman named Kate Argent – why did you pick this person?”
“The house she set on fire was my friend’s” he says, “My fiancé’s cousin. It was also the first case I solved. The mindset of Kate Argent fascinates me, since it is mostly imposed by her father. However – her brother received the same upbringing but does not share in the delusion. It is interesting to see why Kate was more perceptible for the manipulation into murder.”
The man nods, “You talk about delusional criminals, but you operate from a view where supernatural creatures may exist as well.”
“To understand a delusional, you have to understand and know their mindset” he explains, “What made her belief there are werewolves. And what made her believe she was the one chosen to hunt them down and kill them? She is certainly not the only one who believes in supernatural creatures, but she is one of the rare few who believes they are evil.”
“I see” he replies, writing something down with his notes, he leaves through his notes and Stiles’ phone starts buzzing. The man looks up at him, “You didn’t turn off your phone?”
“Uhm - sorry” he says, “They know I have an exam now, so they know not to call!”
He pulls out his phone, turns it on silent and places it on the desk, in clear sight of the professor.
“Okay – let’s continue” he smiles, looking at his note again, “Yes – the third chapter. How did you research people believing in Supernatural creatures who weren’t criminally insane?
“Online” he says, “I posted a message on a platform for people who believe in the supernatural and asked if they were willing to participate in a study.”
“Most people said that they – “ he’s interrupted by his phone buzzing again and glances at the screen, an SOS appearing on the screen, “That they know there probably isn’t anything there, but they can’t help but believe in something being there. Mostly because of childhood trauma.”
He nods again, Stiles’s phone giving another buzz and another SOS, 911, call NOW message appearing on the screen.
“It seems you are in demand” the man says, glancing at the screen as well, “Perhaps you should turn your phone off?”
He smiles tersely and quickly follows the thinly veiled demand.
“Sorry” he smiles again, “They have some dependency issues.”
There’s a knock on the door two minutes later, two men walking in.
“Seriously, Stilinski” one of them says, “You turned off your phone?”
“I’m in the middle of an exam” he says, “One that is important.”
“Yeah, this is too” the taller one of the pair says.
“Excuse me” the teacher jumps in, “Would you please leave? We have not finished yet.”
“Sorry sir” he says, “It’s a matter of life or death.”
“It always is” Stiles rolls his eyes at them, “What is it this time?”
“Your father called us” the blonde man says, “It’s about Melissa.”
The professor looks at the pair, trying to figure out what relationship his student could possibly have with them. The two men were clearly older than him, both looking tired. Stiles’ face shifts when he hears the woman’s name, slight panic on his face as he turns towards the two men.
“Explain” he says, there’s a surprising strength in his voice.
“No lead” he says, “suspicious disappearing. Didn’t show up for her shift, she left this message on voice mail.”
He pulls out his phone playing the message for him.
My car broke down, middle of nowhere. I called a tow truck but – oh, somebody pulled over. They’re getting out – it’s – oh. Fuck!
There’s a sound of a car door slamming, and then panting as with the steady thump of feet hitting the ground in the back.
It’s them – I can’t outrun them. I can’t – the stops running – find me! Please!
There’s a man snarling in the background, a woman laughing viciously.
“Time’s up, nursey” the woman’s voice says, “Gave your little boy more than enough time, let’s hope the dog values your life enough to agree to our terms.”
“If he behaves, maybe he gets his dear old mom back” the man adds, another snort.
There’s a scream, and then a clear voice coming through the phone, “This is to Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski” the woman says, “If you want her back – bring me the girl.”
“We don’t know who the girl is” the man says, Stiles’ face is ashen white as he gathers his things.
“Remember a few months back when we got that girl from that couple trying to sacrifice their daughter to Satan?” he asks, the two men nod slowly, “That’s the girl.”
“Where is she?”
“Don’t you fucking dare use her as bait” he says, “We are – in no circumstances – using a two year old girl as bait. Melissa would never allow it.”
“Obviously” the tall one rolls his eyes, “But we might need to send in reinforcements. To make sure they can’t get to her.”
“She’s with Isaac” he says – as if that settles it and renders their argument invalid, he turns to his teacher again, “Sorry, sir. I hope you – it’s just that – well.”
“Shouldn’t you call the police?” he inquires a bit hesitantly, “If this woman’s been kidnapped.”
“My dad is the police” Stiles says, “He’s probably got everyone on it.”
“And we’re FBI” the blonde one adds, showing his badge.
“We should go, though! No time to lose” he says, “I – uhm – can I do the exam later?”
“No need” he says, “I had finished asking my questions anyways. I hope everything goes okay though.”
“Thank you” Stiles smiles gratefully and nods towards the two men, “Sam, Dean! Let’s take this bitch down.”
He gives a wave and leaves.
[…]
Professor Anderson had been teaching at the school for ten years now. He likes to believe he knows who’s going to make it, and who isn’t. Most of the time he is right. He makes his lists at the start of each year – who is going to give up or drop out this year.
For the past two years, Stilinski had been at the top of that list. Now – however – it seemed he needed to reconsider.
He was sitting in the teacher’s lounge with his colleagues discussing the boy in question.
“He’ll go far” Eames says, sipping from his coffee as he takes the empty seat across Anderson, “Remember the first year? When that crazy chick held us hostage?”
“Yeah – difficult to forget” he replies, it’s still something that’s whispered around the hallways, “What about it?”
“Stilinski was the one who talked her down” he says, “I was there, you know. She was convinced he was some sort of all powerful creature. She’d been killing people – yet somehow convinced herself she wasn’t the one doing the murders. She claimed that a demon had taken possession of her and did the killings.”
“He just did a paper on criminals with supernatural delusions for his midterm exam” Anderson comments, “I guess she was one of his inspirations – yet he didn’t mention it in his paper?”
“Doesn’t surprise me” Eames says, “He talked her down by playing into her delusion, saying that – if she didn’t surrender – he’d wipe her from everyone’s memory. Leave her all alone.”
“That’s – wow” he frowns, “And it worked?”
“She surrendered” he says, “he promised to look after her – the woman’s sister – and she thanked him. He was a key witness.”
“But why didn’t he write about it in his paper?” he asks curiously, “That seems to be a solid defense for his chosen subject, right?”
“She held a gun to his girlfriend – well, fiancé” he shrugs, “I’ve noticed he keeps her shielded from a lot of people. He’s protective of her. I did some research though – seeing the situation it’s understandable.”
“What situation” he asks, pulling out his lunchbox as he looks up at Eames.
“She lost her mom and sister in a car crash when she was nine. It was believed she died in the crash – dragged off by wild animals. Stiles – he and his friends found her in the woods six years later. Alive and – more or less – well. She was adopted. They tracked down her birthfather – and he killed her adoptive dad. He died too, later on. In a fight – from what I understood. Stiles – he – he’s seen a lot. But he’s clever, and stronger than you would think.”
“I noticed he’s smart” he relents, “But still – like just now? His phone kept going off during the exam. A dozen of 911 texts. He turned it off eventually, was able to finish is exam. But I had barely finished it when two men walked in saying they needed his help?”
“Two grown-ups?” he asks, “Well – I mean more grown up than our students, obviously.”
“Yes” Anderson says, “Say that they took Melissa and proceed to play a voice mail message – the woman in panic and then another woman taking the phone and saying that the message is for Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski and if they want the nurse back, hand over the girl.”
“Wow” Eames frowns, “What happened next?”
“Apparently this girl they want is two years old” he explains, “The people who took the nurse tried to sacrifice her to Satan a few weeks back and Stiles and these guys saved her. The girl is now with some guy named Isaac?”
“He’s a friend of theirs” Eames explains, “They went to high school together – he’s married and adopted a kid with his girlfriend. I can understand why they took in the girl. Stable family situation. Both have a steady job.”
“You seem to know quite a bit about Stilinski and his friends” Anderson notices, Eames shrugs, emptying his coffee and smiling weakly.
“You know – getting held hostage with someone creates a bond between you” he says, “He invites me over for dinner every once in a while, he offers his help when I need it. And we’re working together on setting up a study group together for those who need it in his class.”
“Isn’t that a conflict of interest though?” Anderson asks, “Since he’s a student here.”
“He’s not my student anymore” he says, “I discussed it with our supervisor, he says that – as long as I don’t pass on information on other professors or other teachers to him – it’s fine.”
“Good” he says, “I’m still suspicious to believe in his capacities, but I do believe he’ll be a good detective. He’s a good thinker – draws connections others miss. Honestly, I’ve seen him answer exam questions completely different than I expected, yet I was unable to fail him because his logic reasoning was solid. It’s slightly annoying.”
“It is” Eames agrees, “You’ll get used to it. Eventually.”
[…]
Stanton isn’t used to bumping into his students in public. But technically, this girl isn’t his student. She’s dating one of his students – which he only knows because he found her in his bed during a school trip a few weeks back.
“Hello” he frowns, “I’m looking for the mechanic.”
“That’s me” the girl says, looking up and meeting his eyes, “Oh – it’s you.”
“It’s you” he replies, “So – you’re the one I have to talk too to get my car fixed?”
“I am” she comments, “Is it outside?”
“Yes” he says, nodding towards the car in the lot, “Should I just give you the keys – or?”
“Go to the office over there” she points at a red glass door, “The girl in there – Emma – will help you with the paperwork.”
“Thanks” he says, turning around slowly.
When he leaves the office, it’s to find Stiles there, in a deep discussion with the girl and two men standing a bit further on. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but a man – the girl’s boss – is walking up to them. They exchange a few words and he nods relentlessly after a while.
“Ready to go?” one of the men says from by the door, “We’re working on a deadline, remember?”
Three more people walk in – a woman with strawberry blonde hair, a boy and another one of his students – a girl named Kira. She has a blade strapped to her back, the other woman has a belt on her waist with a dagger and the boy is unarmed. When the couple approaches them Kira hands Stiles a dagger as well and he smiles gratefully before stashing it in a holster by his ankle.
“Oh” Kira seems to notice him, “Hi professor Stanton.”
He waves at her, slightly confused.
“Are you kids done?” one of the men says impatiently, “We got work to do! Remember?”
“Since it’s my mom’s life on the line” the other boy says, “It’s difficult to forget. But we are not going in blind! We make a plan, and we take them down. We work together with the sheriff, and if he doesn’t agree with the plan – we think up something else. Understood?”
“Understood” they say in unison, “We’ll follow your lead, as long as we can get going now.”
“We can” Stiles’ girlfriend says, “Let’s get going.”
[…]
Dave holds the icepack up to his head, groaning again.
“You’re an idiot” Lisa says, “Why the hell did you punch him?”
“Because – he was being homophobic” he defends himself, “The things he was saying to you!”
“And I told you I was fine” she says, “I’ve been dealing with this shit for years, Dave! It’s just how it is, I learnt to deal with it.”
“Well, you shouldn’t” he says, “People should learn to deal with you – and respect you. They should keep their goddamn mouths shut.”
“Well – yeah” she smiles, kissing his cheek and making him wince, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine” he says, leaning back, “Kinda sucks that I got arrested for it, though.”
“Tell me about it” she smiles, maybe tasering the guy hadn’t been the best idea – but damn it felt good.
The door opens up and four people walk in – one of which Lisa and Dave recognize immediately, “Is that – Stiles?” Lisa whispers, Dave nods.
He’s limping slightly, a gash on his cheek and a bat in his right arm dragging along the floor. There’s a woman by his side, he’s holding her tightly by her shoulder. There’s two people behind him, two men – one of them in handcuffs.
The door next to them opens, and a man – the sheriff – rushes out. Three deputies rush towards them as well – arresting the woman and the man in handcuffs as the sheriff pulls Stiles into a hug and then pushes him off the check him over.
“And?” he asks, Stiles smiles.
“She’s okay” he says, “At the hospital, getting a few stitches, that’s all.”
“Stitches?” he asks, already grabbing his car keys, “What happened?”
“She kicked a window to get out, and the glass kind of went everywhere” he grins, “Melissa can kick some ass, dad! You’ve clearly been teaching her a few things.”
“Just a few” the sheriff – Stiles’ dad, apparently – says, “Let’s go check it out.”
“Sounds like a plan” Stiles says, “You done here for today?”
“Yeah” he says, “Well – nothing my deputies can’t handle. Let’s go.”
“Okay – just a second though” he smiles, pulling out his phone and dialing a number, “Isaac? Yeah – how is little Emilie? Great? Yes, we got them. She’s safe. Promise.”
He hands up and nods towards his father, both of them leaving the sheriff’s station.
“So that’s Stiles’ dad” Dave says after a while, “I see where he gets it from now.”
“Yeah – me too” Lisa adds, “Remind me not to get on his bad side.”
“Duly noted.”
[…]
Adam and Leanne had been friends since the beginning of the school year. Bonding over loneliness and not knowing anyone else at college.
Adam had met Stiles while working at the local diner during the weekend. He came in twice a week with his order – mostly with a list to make sure he didn’t forget anything. Leanne often dropped by before leaving for home for the weekend – which is how she too became friends with Stiles.
“Why are you always the ones getting the coffees?” Leanne asks him once, “I mean – surely they’re not all for you?”
He shrugs, “It’s easier that way” he replied, “Besides, who says I am? Maybe one of my friends gets them sometimes and you just don’t know?”
Today is one of those days where he comes in with a list – and a friend. He has a gash on his cheek, and a two year old girl on his arm talking to him enthusiastically.
“Hi Adam, Leanne” he says with a bright smile, “This is Emilie. She likes race cars.”
“Hello Stiles – Emilie” Adam smiles, glancing at the man standing behind Stiles who is holding a three year old girl by the hand, “And who is your other friend?”
“Isaac – and his son Camden” he says, “This is his daughter.”
“Daddy Isaac is the best” Emilie says, “He and mommy Katie keep me safe from my other evil mommy and daddy, and uncle Stiles saved my life.”
“Did he now?” Leanne asks curiously, looking at Stiles with a slight frown, as the man blushes.
“Yes” Camden nods enthusiastically, “He fought them and he saved grandma Mel because he is the bestest.”
“Kids say the weirdest things, huh?” Stiles says, Isaac nods smiling as Stiles hands Adam his order list.
“They certainly do” Adam agrees, “So how did you get that cut?”
“Well – uhm” he bites his lip, “I’m just really clumsy.”
“Sure” he nods, “Whatever you say. I’ll get your order.”
He turns around and hears Isaac mutter to his son and daughter, “We talked about this, kids! No talking about uncle Stiles’ help to strangers! People might get the wrong idea!”
“Sorry daddy” they reply in unison, Isaac sighs.
“Okay, let’s get your drinks and get home to mommy” he smiles, “Now give me a hug.”
[…]
Anderson had already just finished marking his exams and posting the grades online. So yes – going out for a drink was his way of rewarding himself. He earned it – right?
It’s late – as usual when he’s finally finished his work – when he gets to the coffee shop. It’s mostly empty, apart from the barista and two students, one who comes in behind him. He recognizes one of them as Stilinski – his student. The one waiting in front of him doesn’t look familiar – just nervous. He keeps looking back and forth, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He turns around, walks away for a second and then closes the door, and turns towards the three of them.
“Hands up” he says, pulling out a gun, “Give me the cash.”
The barista takes a step back, clearly freaking out and Anderson looks around – taking in the response of Stilinski.
Who looks surprisingly calm seeing the situation they are in.
“I said, give me the fucking gone” he shouts, waving the gun around and placing his finger on the trigger.
“Just – calm down” Stiles says, taking a careful step towards him, “You haven’t hurt anyone yet. You can still turn around and leave.”
“Shut up” he says, aiming the gun at Stiles now, “You don’t know – I don’t have a choice, okay? I can’t -.”
“You can” he says, “You always have a choice. You ask for help.”
The man laughs, taking a step towards Stiles, the gun still aimed at his head, “Who should I have asked?” he asks, “Santa?”
“Anyone” he says, “You still have the chance to go – last warning.”
“Yeah – or what?” he asks, pointing the gun at Stiles’ head.
“Or you get arrested” he says, “I’m sorry.”
“By who? You?” he shakes his head, clearly becoming frantic and Anderson can feel his heart thumping in his chest like crazy, “You are going to stop me?”
Stiles stares at him for a moment, looking sad, as the man makes a move.
Everything seems to go in slow motion, yet so fast. He turns to aim the gun at the barista again, and Stiles kicks the gun from his hand in one swift movement – the weapon skidding across the floor.
He’s caught off guard for a second before he recovers, taking a fighting position – as does Stiles. The fight is over quickly – surprisingly enough.
The other guy gets in a few kicks, but Stiles blocks most of them, then he kicks him and punches him – making him drop to the floor. The barista responds quickly by dialing the cops and informing them as Anderson takes in a deep breath and sits down. Stiles walks over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving him a worried glance.
“Sir – are you okay?” he asks, “We’re fine, you know? The gun was still on safety, I doubt he even knows how to use it.”
“And you do?” he asks with a shaking voice, he shrugs in response.
“My dad’s a sheriff, remember?” he says as the door opens again and two uniformed cops walk in.
One of the cops looks at the unconscious man on the floor, and then at Stiles, “Stilinski” he says, a fond expression, “You again. I should’ve known.”
“Parrish” he smiles, “How’ve you been?”
“Good” he says, putting the man in cuffs as he regains consciousness, “You know the boss already has a job ready for you when you graduate, right?”
“I’m aware” Stiles grins, “He’s not the only one.”
“He knows” he smiles and turns to Anderson, “Sir – are you okay?”
“Yeah – fine” he says, still slightly shaken, “Stiles took him down easily.”
“He’s been known to do that” he says with a nod, “My colleague will take your statements, I’ll bring him to the station.”
“Thanks Jordan” Stiles smiles, “Say hi to Lydia, okay? She is staying with you, right? We haven’t seen her in a few days.”
“She is – and I will” he grins, “See you around Stiles – sir.”
The cop leaves with the suspect, leaving his colleague to take statements, “You’ve got friends in high places” Anderson says, “There’s something about you Stilinski – I don’t know what it is yet. But there’s something.”
“Nah” he smiles, “I’m just a regular old kid who grew up with a sheriff for a dad.”
He shrugs it off.
Anderson can’t help but think there’s more to the story.
He also can’t help but think it’s better he never finds out how the story goes exactly.