Uniquely Normal

Fury

"So this kid's the real killer?" Stiles' dad asked as he looked down at Matt's yearbook photo.

"Yeah." Stiles said, looking up at his dad in anticipation.

I sat on Stiles' bed wrapped in a towel, watching the conversation in front of me while Scott stood beside Stiles.

"No."

"Yes!" Stiles exclaimed.

His dad crossed his arms. "No."

Stiles stood up. "Dad, come on. Everybody knows that the police look for ways to connect the victims in a murder, okay? So all you have to do is, like, looks through their transcripts and figure out which class they all had in common."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the rave promoter, Kara, wasn't in Harris' class." Stilinski pointed out.

"Okay, yeah, you're right." Stiles said.

"So, I'm guessing they dropped the charges against him?" I asked Mr. Stilinski with a knowing tone.

He looked at me and held up a finger. "No, you know what? They're not dropping the charges."

Stiles looked at me with a nod, knowing they'd found a flaw.

"But that doesn't prove anything." His dad added.

Stiles went to say something, but his dad held up a finger that silenced him.

"Scott," he said. "Do you believe all this?"

"It's really hard to explain how we know this, but you just gotta trust us." Scott explained desperately. "We know it's Matt."

"Yeah, he took Harris' car, okay?" Stiles continued. "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' class, that they'd arrest him!"

"Alright, fine. I'll allow the remote possibility, but give me a motive." Stilinski said to the boys. "Why would this kid want most of the 2006 swim team and it's coach dead?"

Stiles held his arms out. "Isn't it obvious?!"

I raised an eyebrow at him and Scott furrowed his as we waited for Stiles' motive.

"Our swim team sucks!" He exclaimed. "They haven't won in like six years- okay we don't have a motive yet."

I stood up and walked over to stand next to Stiles, looking at his dad. "Does Harris have a motive?"

He nodded in understanding, knowing we were right. "What do you want me to do?"

"We need to look at the evidence." Scott said.

Stilinski scoffed. "Yeah, that would be at the station, where I no longer work."

"Trust me, they'll let you in." Stiles said.

"Trust you?" His dad said, pointing a finger at him.

"Uh," Stiles stuttered, and pointed behind him. "Trust Scott?"

His dad simply raised his eyebrows and Stiles pursed his lips. He glanced at me for a second before turning back to his father.

"Trust [y/n]?"

His dad looked at me and I smiled. He sighed and looked back at his son.

"[y/n] I trust." He said.

They turned to go to the station and I stayed behind, looking down at the towel I wore, and my still-wet clothes. Stiles noticed I wasn't following and turned to look at me.

"Do we have time to go by my house and get clothes?" I asked sheepishly.

He sucked in a breath and paced around his room, looking through his drawers and closet to find some clothes for me to borrow, throwing me a clothing item every once in awhile.