[Old Hale House]
It was morning, and a police car was parked out front along with Stiles’ jeep from the previous night.
Scott, leaning against the front of the Jeep, watched as a police deputy and the Sheriff walked out of the house with Derek Hale in handcuffs.
Police teams were spread around the property while a forensics team was examining the dead body of Laura Hale.
Scott noticed Stiles was walking toward the car that had contained Derek in the back seat.
Scott tried telling him not to do it, but Stiles ignored him and got into the police cruiser.
Scott turned away, trying to avoid being seen by other officers.
Stiles, inside the car, turned to the backseat to interrogate Derek.
“Ok, just so you know I’m not afraid of you.” Stiles tried to act tough.
Derek raised his gaze to meet Stiles’.
“Ok, maybe I am doesn’t matter; I just wanna know something.
The girl you killed she was a werewolf; she was a different kind, wasn’t she?
I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf, and I know Scott can’t do that.
Is that why you killed her?”
Stiles asked Derek, wondering why he would kill his own kind.
“Why are you so worried about me when it’s your friend you should be who’s the problem?
What do you think’s gonna happen when he shifts in public?
You think people are just gonna ignore, keep moving like nothing happened,” Derek said, looking towards Scott.
“One mistake and the hunters are gonna be there to kill him, doesn’t matter whether he’s a teenager or not.
And trust me, they won’t stop till he’s dead.” Derek added.
The car door opened, and a hand reached in and pulled Stiles out of the car and dragged him by the arm away from the cruiser.
“Ow ow ow.”
It was Sheriff Stilinski.
“There, stand.”
The Sheriff sighed and asked Stiles, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m just trying to help,” Stiles replied.
“Uh-huh, ok, well, how about you help me understand exactly how you came across this?” Sheriff Stilinski asked his son.
*Sigh* “We were looking for Scott’s inhaler.” Stiles answered
“Which he dropped when?”
“The other night.” Stiles shrugged.
“The other night when you were out looking for the other half of the body?” Stiles was clueless as to how his dad was using his own words to snitch on himself.
“Yes.”
“The night that you told me you were alone, and Scott was at home,” the sheriff said matter-of-factly.
“Yes, no uuhh crap.” Stiles’ face went pale after realizing how he had just told on himself.
“So you lied to me?” Sheriff Stilinski asked.
“That depends on how you define lying.” Stiles tried to defend himself.
“Well, I define it as not telling the truth.
How do you define it?” Sheriff Stilinski shut him down immediately.
Stiles, caught off guard, tried to find an excuse.
“Uhhh, reclining your body in a horizontal…
position.” He tried to use hand gestures to make it more believable.
Sheriff Stilinski did not believe a single word that was coming out of Stiles’ mouth.
“Get the hell outta here.”
“Absolutely.” Stiles walks to his jeep and drives off with Scott.
On the drive home, Scott is busy on his phone trying to find clues on how Derek used the Wolfsbane to bury the body.
“I can’t find anything on wolfsbane burial.”
“Just keep looking.
Maybe it’s like a ritual or something,” Stiles said while driving.
“Like maybe they bury you as a wolf.”
“Or maybe it’s like a special skill, y’know, like something you have to learn.”
Stiles kept saying one after the other.
Scott, who wasn’t looking all too good, said, “I’ll put it on my to-do list.”
Stiles, again with his never-ending theories, said, “Maybe it’s different for girl werewolves.”
“Ok, just stop it,” Scott said, looking like he was in pain.
“Stop saying what?” Stiles asked.
“STOP SAYING WEREWOLF!
Stop enjoying this so much.” Scott yelled, looking more in pain.
Stiles looked at him and asked, “Are you ok?”
“NO!
No, I’m not.
I’m so far from being ok.” Scott was visibly in pain.
“Y’know you’re gonna have to accept this, Scott, sooner or later.”
“I can’t.”
“Well, you’re gonna have to!”
“NO, I can’t breathe.” Scott slammed his hand on the roof of the car; a growl escaped as he winced in pain.
“Wow, wow, wow.” Stiles nearly lost control of the car, weaving left to right.
“Pull over,” Scott said, the pain getting worse.
“Why, what’s happening?” Stiles asked.
Scott caught a scent and reached into Stiles’ bag and pulled out the wolfsbane plant that was still attached to the rope.
“YOU KEPT IT?” Scott yelled.
“What was I supposed to do with it?” Stiles asked.
“UUGGHH STOP THE CAR.” Scott’s eyes glowed golden-yellow; his voice was a full-on growl.
Stiles saw Scott starting to lose control; he immediately pulled over and grabbed the bag with the wolfsbane, ran out, and YEETED away from the car.
He breathed a breath of relief.
“*sigh* Okay, we’re good if-” he stopped mid-sentence and saw Scott was nowhere to be found.
“Scott?”
Stiles, driving in his jeep at high speed, was calling dispatch from his radio.
“Stiles, you know you can’t call the dispatch line while on duty,” a police officer said from the radio.
“I just need to know if you’ve had any odd calls,” Stiles said, looking around, trying to find Scott.
“Odd how?”
“Like an odd person or uhh doglike individual roaming the streets.”
“I’m hanging up on you, Stiles,” The officer said
“NO, wait, wait, wait, wait.”
“Goodbye.”
The call was ended.
Stiles threw the radio on the passenger seat on top of a photo of a werewolf carrying a woman.
[Argent’s House]
Through the window, Allison and Olivia were in Olivia’s room doing their homework.
On top of the roof, Scott, fully shifted, was watching them through the window.
Olivia got up and closed the curtains, which revealed Scott’s reflection and someone standing behind.
Malcolm pulled Scott and hid with him on the other side of the roof, holding him down with one arm.
A car pulled into the driveway; it was Chris Argent.
Scott tried to escape his grip; instead, Malcolm threw Scott into the street, close to the woods.
Scott let out a roar and ran into the forest, which caught Chris’s attention.
He pulled out his gun, ready to shoot.
He surveyed the area and saw Malcolm jumping off the roof with ease and disappearing into the dark before he could shoot.
END OF CHAPTER
I am Optimus Prime.
I send this message to all readers: Stay safe and remember to look to the stars for guidance.