competition, allison argent

xxii. fury

A class photo of Matt comes into focus within the pages of a yearbook. Gathered around the desk where the book lies, Stiles, Cody, and Scott wait for Stilinski's reaction. "So, this kid's the real killer?" Stilinski asks, peering at Matt's yearbook photo.

"Yeah," Stiles confirms, the weight of the night before still hanging heavy.

Stilinski's skeptical gaze flickers to them. "No."

"Yes!" Stiles insists, a hint of desperation in his voice. "Dad, come on. Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect victims in a murder, okay? So all he had to do is, like, look through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

Stilinski nods slowly, arms crossed in a stance that says he's not entirely convinced. "Yeah, except Kara – the rave promoter? She wasn't in Harris's class."

Stiles deflates slightly. "All right, okay, you're right, sorry. Then I guess they dropped the charges against him?" he asks, tilting his head with a touch of defiance.

His dad sighs. "No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges. But that doesn't prove anything." Stiles opens his mouth to protest, but Stilinski cuts him off. "Scott, Cody, do you believe this?"

Scott meets his gaze with tired determination. "It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us. We know it's Matt." Cody nods firmly.

Stiles jumps in. "Yeah, he took Harris' car, okay? Look, he knew that if a cop found tire tracks at one of the murders, and that if enough of the victims were in Harris's class, that they'd arrest him!"

Stilinski holds up his hands in surrender. "All right, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive. I mean, why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and its coach dead?"

"Isn't it obvious!?" Stiles bursts out, followed by a beat of awkward silence. "Our swim team sucks! They haven't won in, like, six years." His voice trails off, even he realizes it's a weak reason. Stilinski rolls his eyes. "Okay, okay, we don't have a motive yet. I mean, come on, does Harris?"

Stilinski sighs. "What do you want me to do?"

"We need to look at the evidence." Cody interjects, his voice surprisingly steady.

"Yeah, that would be in the station, where I no longer work." Stilinski retorts, giving Stiles a pointed look.

"Trust me, they'll let you in," Stiles assures him with a hopeful lilt in his voice.

Stilinski arches an eyebrow. "Trust you?"

Stiles looks to Scott, a silent plea in his eyes. "Trust... Scott?"

"Scott I trust."

🌙

"It's 2:00 AM," the deputy grumbles as the four of them enter the deserted station.

"Believe me, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't extremely important." Stilinski replies wearily.

Stiles leans in and whispers to Scott and Cody, "We look at the hospital stuff first, okay?"

Cody frowns. "Why?"

"All the murders, except one, were by Jackson, right?" Stiles reminds him.

Cody nods. "Yeah, the pregnant girl – Jessica."

"Yeah. Since Matt had to kill her himself, somebody from the hospital could've seen him." Stiles' voice is a low murmur, charged with urgency.

"Thank you," they hear Stilinski say, and they're motioned behind the desk, crowding into his old office. He pulls up the security footage on his computer, then sighs. "I don't know, guys. I mean, look at this. There was a six - car pileup that night, the hospital was jammed."