|| Big Parrish, Little Parrish
"Economic despairity." Coach's voice boomed through his class, everyone but Stiles making an effort to at least look like they were paying attention. "It exists in all forms. We'll take sports, for example."
Stiles looked through photos of the crime scene of Carrie Hudson and Liz Moore's murders. Both had suffered the same injuries; ones with a hexagonal imprint.
"Some teams," Coach said, "have better training facilities. Some have better equipment. Unlike Beacon Hills that can barely afford the duct tape to keep our equipment together." He stopped in front of Stiles, wacking the lacrosse stick he was holding onto his desk.
Stiles jumped, well aware he'd been caught.
"You know, Stilinski," Coach crouched, picking up the photo of Carrie Hudson's dead body, "If I could grade you on how profoundly you disturb me, you'd be an A+ student."
"Thank Coach," Stiles said with almost gratitude.
"Put those pictures away," Finstock told him quietly as he stood back up.
Stiles glanced to the end of the lacrosse stick as Coach tapped it on his desk, stopping as he started to shuffle the pictures together. Suddenly he reached out, yanking it closer.
"Stilinski!" Finstock tried to pull back.
Stiles pulled off the cap on the end, looking from the shape to a close up photo of the knife wounds.
Finstock tried to pull again, "What the hell is wrong with you?" He finally pulled the lacrosse stick free, "Don't answer that." Hesitating, he walked back up to the front of the class.
Scott was wide eyed, looking to Stiles.
"It's a lacrosse player," Stiles quietly said.
"The killer's on the team."
||
"You really think playing the game is safe?" Jacy sat with Lydia in the art room with her phone to her ear, still trying to figure out how to talk to Meredith. "If the killer's on the team, all of you are at risk," she said.
"I know, but Scott and Kira think it's the best way to catch him." Stiles was on the other end of the line, running a hand through his hair. "Even if I'm not on the deadpool, Scott and Kira definitely are."
"Liam probably is too," Jacy said as Lydia called Eichen House despite never wanting to think about the place again after what had happened in November. Jacy looked up as the bell rang overhead, causing her to have the time up. "Look, Lydia and I have an idea on how to get the next cipher key. I'm completely against you all playing the game, but I'll see what Kira and Scott are thinking."
"I'll keep you updated," Stiles said, ending the call as they were both on a mission.
"Okay," Lydia said into her phone with slight defeat. "Thanks."
Jacy stood, pocketing her cell when Lydia hung up. "Anything?"
Lydia nodded towards the door, "Come on, there's no point to be in here." She went down the hall with Jacy at her side, the two starting to descend the stairs. "Eichen House says Meredith can't have visitors without permission from a family member."
"I'm pretty sure her whole family's dead, Lyds," Jacy said.
Lydia took out her anger in sarcasm, "Perfect."
"I don't know how much it could help, but we could go back to the art room. Or, music room, maybe?"
Lydia stopped in front of Jacy, utterly frustrated. "I'm not plucking piano strings for two hours waiting for some supernatural inspiration."
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Clairvoyant || Stilinski [1]
FanfictionWhen Stiles' trusty Jeep falters on him, the sarcastic boy is caught in a drifting state and only one person can see him. Jacy, a whisperer of sorts, has dealt with plenty of ghosts, but Stiles is a different case entirely. She has to put Stiles bac...