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    The wolf’s head whipped around so fast, Stiles felt like he was watching The Exorcist.

    Stiles wondered if he could just stand still enough to make the wolf think he was a tree. A very bright red and jean-clad tree. He doubted it, but one could hope.

    He knew it was a lost cause when the wolf turned fully, lips pulled back from its sharp teeth—so very sharp, good fucking Lord!—and began walking towards Stiles.

    “I didn’t see anything!” Stiles shouted, both hands out in front of himself and sweat instantly breaking out across his skin. “I swear to you! I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything! I won’t tell anyone! I won’t! I’ll keep this to myself, until the day I die! I promise! I promise!”

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  2. Public Bookmark *

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    The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.

    He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.

    He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.

    Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.

    “Who is that?” he asked quietly.

    “That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”

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  3. Public Bookmark *

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    “Holy shit, this is a date!” he blurted out, turning back to Derek wide-eyed. “This is a date! You intended for this to be a date, this was supposed to be a date!” He figured if he said it enough times, maybe he would believe it, but so far, no dice.

    Derek was scowling again—seriously, did he want wrinkles?—but he just reached into one of the bags and pulled out a burger, checking what was written on the foil in sharpie before handing it over to Stiles.

    “Of course it’s a date, what did you think this was?”

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    Not wanting to think on it too much, Stiles took a step forward and passed his hand between the bars, moving the bleeding side closer to Derek’s mouth.

    “Not too close, he bites.”

    Stiles snatched his hand away just as Derek had been about to lick at it. The snarl he got in response was not comforting.

    “He what?” Stiles asked nervously, turning to Deaton.

    The man looked a little amused. “Don’t worry, only if he doesn’t like you.”

    “Well, he probably hates me, now!” Stiles insisted, turning back to Derek.

    He looked extremely displeased.

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