Stiles Stilinski x Reader. (Rewrite of the series: season 2)

Chapter 22*

(Stiles POV)

I sit down at the opposite side of my father's desk, plopping the food in front of him. He reaches inside the bag and pulls out a burger. He opens the paper and takes a bite, and I can see his face form into a frown.

"Ugh, what the hell is this?" he asks, taking a napkin and spitting the food into it. "Veggie burger." I say, rearranging the items on his desk so I can place all the food on it. "Stiles, I asked for a hamburger." My dad scoffs, putting the burger down.

"Well, veggie is healthier. We're being healthy." I say, showing him my own salad plate. He sighs and opens the box where his fries should be, revealing shopped up carrots and celery. "Oh hell... Why are you trying to ruin my life?" he asks me, making me sigh. "I'm trying to extend your life, okay? Could you just eat it, please? And tell me what you found." I say, shaking my head in disbelief.

"No, I'm not sharing confidential police work with a teenager..." my dad says scoffing at me. I look behind him and then back at my dad. "Is that it on the board behind you?" I ask, trying to read what was on there. "Don't look at that..." my dad says awkwardly.

"Ay—" I say, trying to see behind him. "Avert your eyes..." my dad says sighing. I keep trying to look at it better. "Okay..." I say, not stopping from trying to look at it. "Hey!" my dad yells, holding his hand in front of my vision of the board.

"Just-it's just-I see arrows pointing at pictures!" I say defensively, still trying to make sense of everything. "Okay, okay, stop. Fine. I found something." My dad says, making me immediately look his way. "The mechanic and the couple who were murdered-- they all had something in common." My dad says again, making me frown.

"All three?" I ask, seeing him nod. "Yeah. You know what I always say... "One's an incident. Two's a coincidence--" he says, making me interrupt him. "--Three's a pattern" I say, seeing him nod again. "The mechanic, the husband, the wife? All the same age. All twenty-four." My dad says.

"Wait, what about Mr. Lahey? I mean, Isaac's dad isn't anywhere near twenty-four..." I ask frowning. "Which made me think that either A) Lahey's murder wasn't connected, or B) the ages were a coincidence... Until I found this, which would be C)-- Did you know that Isaac Lahey had an older brother named Camden?" my dad asks, making me shake my head. He gives me an article about the brother.

"Died in combat..." I read out loud. "But, if he were alive today, take one guess as to how old he'd be..." my dad asks, making me widen my eyes and look at him. "Twenty-four." I say, seeing him nod again.

(Third POV)

Scott walks into the warehouse district, seeing the cue of people in front of him. He then recognizes Mark and calls for him. "Mark... Mark!" Scott whispers loudly. "What?" Mark asks, looking back at Scott.

"How much are tickets?" Scott asks. "Seventy-five dollars." Mark says, nodding at the look Scott gives him. "Can I borrow some money?" Scott asks sighing, seeing Mark nod at him. "Yeah, how much?" he asks. "Seventy-five dollars..." Scott sheepishly says, making Mark shake his head and turn back around. Scott then nods in understanding and walks back to the end of the cue in the warehouse. Seeing the woman behind the fence giving out the tickets.

(Stiles POV)

"Now, what if same age means same class? I mean, did you think of that?" I ask my father, now standing in front of the board together, trying to figure everything out as a team. "Yeah. Yeah..." my dad mumbles, making me look at him. "...Well, I would have. I mean, I—" he says, seeing me look at him in disbelief. "Look, I just got Lahey's file two hours ago!" he exclaims defensively.