Something Like This

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Derek Hale’s right ear twitches as he unintentionally listens in to the Sheriff’s conversation about him. He can see the way the Sheriff is frustrated, his eyebrows furrowed and his shoulders and arms tensed. Derek doesn’t really know why he’s here. 

Well, he knows he’s here because he buried his sister in the front yard of his burned down home, but he doesn’t really know what he’s getting charged with.

“Bring him to the W-Interrogation room.” Derek tenses, unable to stop the immediate reaction of flashing his blue eyes. Four cops surround his small cell with wolfs bane bars, and he eyes them. Derek tries to relax, rolling his shoulders and unclenching his balled fists. ‘Wish you were here, Lar.’ Derek thinks wistfully when he’s taken to the interrogation room for werewolves. 

He gets pushed into the room, growling the second he smells the heavy scent of magick. The small hairs on his neck start to stand and he turns around, baring his sharp fanged teeth, to see the Sheriff and another officer with the name “Parrish” sowed into the fabric. Derek collected himself, but he couldn’t stop his nose from flaring in agitation and the angry huff that escapes.

“Sit down, son. We need to talk.” Derek glared at the use of the word ‘son’, but did as the Sheriff asked. He felt his eyes burn as soon as he sat down and he looked up in surprise. He realized that the magick in the chair forced him to shift. He watched as the Sheriff and Parrish sat in front of him. He saw Parrish’s eyes change to a fierce orange. ‘Of course he’s supernatural.’

“I didn’t know they hired ‘Supes.” Derek said. Derek didn’t know how Parrish could work with people that discriminated against him just because of the way he was born. (“Not all people are bad, Der. You gotta trust a little.”)

Parrish shrugged. “I proved myself.” He took out a yellow notepad and a pen. He started to listen very closely.

Derek arched a thick eyebrow (“They’re caterpillars, Der!”) and swallowed. The sheriff cleared his throat.

“Son, why did you murder your sister?” Derek stared at the Sheriff, angry and sad and afraid, as tears (“Don’t cry, little brother. It’ll be okay.”) filled his unnatural blue eyes. 
Derek growled and his finger nails shifted into claws. He curled his hands into fists, not caring that his claws were digging into his skin. He shook his head in denial.

“So you just happened to have your dead sister buried in the front yard of your old house?” The Sheriff asked sarcastically.

Derek could feel his eyebrows furrowing and his top lip curls slightly into a sneer.

“Why would I kill my sister?”

Parrish raises a dark eyebrow. “She could’ve-”

Derek’s eyes darkened and his muscles shook with anger and disbelief.

“Why-why would I kill my Alpha? I didn’t kill her!” Derek shouted, his eyes slanted and his nose flaring. Thump-Thump-Thump-Thump. Derek watched Parrish write something down.

“Son, we just want to know who did.” The Sheriff said after glancing at what Parrish wrote. TRUTH.

Derek’s thin mouth fell slightly open. “I-I don’t know. I just couldn’t feel her anymore.” Thu-thump-th-thump-thum-thump. Parrish frowned.

“Why did you lie?” He asked, tilting his body forward across the table. Derek’s eyes widened and before he could speak, somebody knocked on the door. The Sheriff gave Parrish a look and the officer nodded. He walked up to the door and opened it to reveal another officer. She was unfairly attractive, with brown eyebrows and plump lips. (“Find me a girl that has Disney princess material, Der.” She cackled, her brown eyes sparkling and alive.) She smiled sweetly at Parrish before tazing him with her weapon. The Sheriff jumped up, but before he could do anything, he was knocked from behind in the head. The Sheriff fell and Derek growled at the intruder that smelled slightly familiar.