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No one ever really asked Stiles about some of the things he kept around. They didn’t ask about the ziplock bag of acorns he kept in his backpack in junior high. No one asked about the tub of oil he’d kept in his locker during freshmen year. None of the team even looked twice at the chain and collar he had shoved into his gym locker. And they purposely didn’t ask about the box of latex gloves stashed under the passenger seat of his jeep. Most people just assumed it was one of Stiles problems and left him alone about it. It was just another thing that made Stiles Stilinski a weirdo and a loser and no one wanted to be seen getting to know him.
Scott had been different. He’d been the one to ask about the acorns (for the family of squirrels living on the roof who were plotting to take over the school), he’d asked about the oil (science experiment to see if the oil would separate with chlorine in the swimming pool), and Scott knew about the chain and collar (though neither one had been used on Scott in the end). The one thing Scott never got around to asking about though, were the gloves.
At least he didn’t ask about them until they were searching around one of the locations where the Alpha pack had been spotted.
Stiles had pulled them out with a grin and had set to work collecting various items. Scott had gone to help him, but Stiles stopped him every time. Isaac, who had tagged along much to Stiles displeasure, hadn’t been stopped. Stiles flailed when he saw Isaac holding up a bone of some kind, leaving his finger prints behind in the pool of blood he’d picked it up from.
“Isaac! Are you an idiot?!” Stiles flew over to him, shocking both Scott and Isaac as he dodge and jumped over the mess in the room. “Rule number two dude! Rule number two!” Stiles had pulled an extra pair of gloves out of his pocket and shoved them into Isaac’s chest. “If you’re gonna be hanging around with us, you gotta follow the rules. It’s simple.”
Isaac gave him a look that made Stiles sigh out loud and roll his head back.
“Rule number two. Always wear gloves at a crime scene. And if you think for one second that this blood isn’t currently dripping into the little old ladies apartment below it, you’re even dumber than Jackson. The cops will be here within the hour and now we’ve got to spend the next half hour cleaning up your prints! Unless you want to get arrested again, in which case, be my guest. Write your name on the wall in the blood for all I care.” Stiles huffed in Isaac’s face before hurrying around and trying to get as much as he could while cleaning up Isaac’s mess.
Isaac never came with Stiles to investigate again.