𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 | derek hale [ON HOLD]

6 | t h e t e l l

I'm in the back of Sheriff Stilinski's cop car with Stiles in shotgun. Rica and I went over to the Stilinski's to hang out. Stiles was playing a video game with monsters on his computer and I was reading a book on my phone when his dad got home. He offered to get fast food for dinner, so we all got in his car and drove to a drive-thru.

"Did they forget my curly fries?" Sheriff Stilinski asks his son.

"You're not supposed to eat fries, especially the curly ones," Stiles exasperatedly tells him.

"Well, I'm carrying a lethal weapon. If I want curly fries, I will have the curly fries," he retorts. I giggle in the backseat as I give Rica one of my fries.

"If you think getting rid of contractions in all of your sentences makes your argument any more legitimate, you're wrong," Stiles sasses his dad. Then Sheriff Stilinski's walkie talkie beeps.

"Unit one, do you copy?" the dispatcher asks. Stiles moves to answer but Sheriff Stilinski slaps his hands away. I let out a full laugh that time. He clears his throat, causing Stiles to lean back in his seat.

"Sorry," he mumbles.

"Unit one, copy," Sheriff Stilinski responds into the walkie.

"Got a report of a possible 187," the dispatcher tells him. Stiles drops his food, his face stuffed with fries, and looks at his dad.

"A murder?" he asks, fries falling out of his mouth. Sheriff Stilinski doesn't respond.

He shifts the car gear into "drive" and we head to the location dispatch gives him.

We pull into the parking lot of a video store and I see an ambulance and two people I recognize.

Lydia and Jackson!

Stiles and I try to get out of the car but Sheriff Stilinski asks us to stay put. I nod and fall back into my seat, staring at my friends.

"Paul, let's get this area locked up," Sheriff orders another cop at the scene. He walks up to my friends and Jackson starts yelling at him.

"Oh, no way," I hear Stiles mutter under his breath. I slide into the driver's seat and roll Stiles 'window down an inch. Not enough for anyone to notice, but enough that we can hear conversations from outside.

"Why the hell can't I just go home? I'm fine," Jackson rudely tells Sheriff Stilinski.

"I hear ya," Sheriff responds calmly, "but the EMT says you hit your head pretty hard. They just want to make sure you don't have a concussion."

"What part of 'I'm fine' are you having a problem grasping?" Jackson rudely asks him. "Ok, I want to go home!"

"And I understand that-"

"No, you don't understand!" Jackson cuts him off, waving his hands in front of his face. "Which kind of blows my mind since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum-wage rent-a-cop like you!" Jackson insults.

I gasp and Stiles and I get out of the car, standing by the doors.

"Ok, now I want to go home!" Jackson screams.

"Oh, woah! Is that a dead body?" Stiles exclaims as he points behind Jackson and Sheriff Stilinski. They both turn around and I see a hand hanging from a gurney.

Sheriff gives his son a look and tells bystanders to back up while Stiles gets back in the car.

I catch Lydia's eye and mouth to her, "Are you ok?" She nods her head and smiles at me.

I turn to get back in the car when I see shadows on top of the roof. I walk away from the car, ignoring Stiles calling me from the window asking me what I'm doing and telling me to get back in, and walk to the side of the building. I see a ladder and climb up, pulling myself over the edge of the roof. I look up and see Scott and Derek.