ᴀꜱʜᴇꜱ - ꜱᴛɪʟᴇꜱ ꜱᴛɪʟɪɴꜱᴋɪ

𝟘𝟛

ᴡᴇʀᴇᴠᴏʟᴠᴇꜱ?

By far, this was the stupidest thing Sam had ever done. Currently, he was jogging as silently as he could through the forest toward what the officer on the radio had described as a particularly gory accident. The sun had set a while ago, and he kept on tripping over sticks, which didn't exactly help with his stealth.

Alex was ahead closer to the two boys, calling out for Sam every few seconds so he could follow her voice along Scott and Stiles' path; and so that they wouldn't see him.

He needed to get into running again. Before he had found the correct medication, he had constantly had to run to tire himself out so he would stop feeling random bursts of emotions triggered by a single sentence or thought.

Most thought that people with Bipolar Disorder were just always upset or had anger issues. For Sam, he could get angry much easier during his off medication period, but mostly he just panicked; he was scared of losing control and hurting people.

He heard Alex's voice call out to him again. A simple "Here!"

It was closer than the last call, and as Sam swerved around another tree, he could see the light of the ambulance flashing brightly. As he took a few steps forward toward the scene, he felt an arm yank him behind a tree.

Sam let out a yelp at the contact and instantly realized it couldn't be Alex. That left Scott, Stiles, or some random person running around the woods.

It was Scott.

"What are you doing here"? Sam managed to make out the face of the boy in the dark as he shrugged.

"I didn't want to go to jail tonight."

"My dad was not going to put you in jail. Plus, this is a dangerous situation, very dangerous; a whole twenty levels of danger," As Stiles's voice sounded, he could now see the buzzcut boy's figure also in the dark.

Sam smiled awkwardly; as he gazed at the two boys. "Oh well."

Stiles sighed before looking over to the ambulance. "Come on."

The three boys, minus Alex, who had crept closer to the road after giving Sam a thumbs up, crouched and moved silently closer to the accident.

Stiles signaled the boys toward a mound of dirt and leaves where they wouldn't be visible but would have a clear view.

Sam could vaguely see the blood coating the inside and outside of the ambulance; the cops walked around it as confused as he was. He felt a bit sick at the sight but repressed his emotions as he listened to Scott and Stiles talk.

"What the hell is Lydia doing?"

Sam refrained from opening his mouth at Stiles' words but instead closed his mouth and listened.

"I don't know," Scott replied as they stared at the car. Alex walked back toward Sam; her face lit up by moonlight.

"They think it might be an animal attack. But the body," Alex shuddered. "I've seen animal attacks; they do not look like that."

Sam nodded as he absorbed the information. Suddenly he realized something. Alex never, ever talked about her past. The fact that she had trusted him even with a minor detail made him just a tad happier.

"What kept you from doing that; was it Allison?" Stiles whispered, drawing Sam's attention back to the boys.

"What do you mean doing that? Murder?" He cried out in disbelief.

Instinctively Stiles quieted the boy by placing a finger to his lips and turning to Scott, awaiting a response.

"I hope so."