Scott McCall oneshots

Misunderstandings

Scott and Stiles burst through the front door talking frantically. It was how they'd been the past week or so, frantic. 

They'd also been secretive. It was the Sheriffs job to catch people and figure things out but he couldn't, under any circumstances, work out what was going on with the boys. He had caught snippets of their conversations before but he didn't understand how Stiles' online fantasy games could cause so much panic. He supposed that was just a teenager thing.

But lately the boys were all he could think about. It was hard to forget them when they showed up to nearly every single crime scene in the town. Seriously, every one. The Sheriff couldn't avoid it when they literally dug up a body outside the old Hale house.

He had been observing them closer than was necessary over the past few days but he still was unsure. All he knew was that whatever was happening seemed to be centred around Scott. Stiles, for once, only appeared to be his accomplice. The Sheriff wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not. 

He also knew that Scott had stopped talking to Melissa about his life. With it being only the two of them, Scott and his mother were close. Well, as close as they could be seeing as Melissa never seemed to get a day off of work. But something the woman had said stuck with Noah. It was actually something the boys' chemistry teacher, Mr. Harris, had said. Scott lacked a male authoritative figure. Noah tried to step in where he could but Scott was a very tactile and open person and the Sheriff... not so much. 

With what little facts he had, Noah came to a conclusion. One he really hoped was wrong. But if he was right, he and Scott needed to have a very serious chat. 

"Boys!" He called, just as they began to clamber up the stairs. They both looked at him in surprise. They had been so invested in their conversation that they hadn't even realised he was home.

"Yeah, dad?" Stiles asked distractedly, glancing up at his room as though he was planning to make a break for it. 

"I'd like to talk with Scott." 

Noah watched as Scott's eyes widened and his body tensed. He was looking at Noah as though he had just accused him of murder. He quickly looked to his friend for help.

"What about?" Stiles voice wavered and his tongue darted out to wet his lips nervously. He was glancing between his friend and his dad with the same panicked look that adorned Scott's face.

The sick feeling in the Sheriff's stomach increased at their reactions. 

"Something private. It'll only take a minute." He tried to smile reassuringly but he was positive it came out as more of a grimace.

Scott took a step further up the stairs, his mouth opening and closing as he rifled through excuses. He was breathing quickly through his mouth and looked on the verge of an asthma attack. Noah's brow furrowed, his suspicion seeming more and more likely by the second. 

"You're not in trouble, Scott." He put on his gentle parenting voice. He knew if he let Scott go now he'd never get a chance to talk about this.

"Um, okay. I guess- yeah sure." Scott fumbled through his words. He shot a quick pleading glance at Stiles as he began to descend the stairs. He walked shakily towards the couch that the Sheriff was sitting on. His back was ramrod straight.

Stiles made to follow him. 

"Alone," Noah gave his son a pointed look, standing to close the sitting room door after Scott had entered. Stiles' noise of protest was cut off by the click of the latch.

When Noah turned around he was faced with a very panicked Scott. He looked more scared now that there was no chance of Stiles saving him. He was still standing awkwardly, rubbing his arm and hunching forward to make himself smaller. His eyes were trained to the floor and Noah could almost swear he was shaking with fear.