Series Rewrite (A Teen Wolf Fanfiction)

Smoke and Mirrors Part 1

"You are not going to Mexico," Sheriff snapped as soon as he closed the door to his office, his finger pointing at me and Stiles like we didn't know he was talking to us.

Stiles didn't even get snippy. He was calm as he reasoned, "Dad, Scott and Kira have been kidnapped and taken to Mexico. Okay? I think that's a pretty good reason for a trip to Mexico." Sheriff stalked around his office, shaking his head and rubbing it as he tried to wrap his mind around this situation.

"You heard what Deaton said, Sheriff. If we don't go, Scott dies," I tried. Sheriff inhaled deeply through his nose and rested his hands on his desk, leaning forward slightly.

"Okay... Even if Deaton is right about this, the best thing to do is to go through the proper channels." Stiles and I both started to object, but Sheriff spoke over us. "That means calling the right law enforcement agencies, border patrol, putting out an all-points."

Stiles waited for Sheriff to finish (impatiently, might I add) and said, "Dad, I can't just wait around for the wheels of bureaucracy to start spinning in five different government offices, okay? Someone needs to go down there right now, find them and rescue them. Okay, we're going."

Sheriff rose his eyebrows, standing up straight at the tone Stiles took. "I can keep you two from going."

"We'd find a way," I shrugged, because it was true. There was absolutely nothing that would stop me from going to Mexico and saving Scott, even if it killed me.

Sheriff seemed to disagree, his voice raising an octave as he fought with us. "I could throw you in a cell."

"We'd still find a way," Stiles replied. Sheriff sighed heavily, walking around his desk so he was pacing again.

"Guys, please. Just give me a little more time to verify something slightly more concrete than a psychic vision by some guy with a third eye!" I nodded, understanding how this must be frustrating for him. He's the one who'd have to make up the lie. "Look, I will call every law enforcement agency all the way down to South America if I have to. If nothing turns up, then I'll book three flights to Mexico. We'll all go, okay?"

I nodded again, hating his answer, but knowing why he was doing it. Maybe he could stop Stiles from going, but, even if he hated me for it, I would be going to Mexico with or without his help.

"Okay, okay, great," Stiles said, agreeing. "Do I get a gun?"

Sheriff rolled his eyes and shook his head before walking away. Good thing, too. If he'd given Stiles a gun, I would've taken it away because none of us are safe if he's got a loaded weapon in his palm.

The second we were back in Stiles' jeep, I said, "We're not waiting, are we?"

"Hell no," Stiles replied, backing out of his parking spot to speed to Scott's house after telling Malia to meet us there. We went straight to Scott's room, trying to find something we could use to catch his scent. I was getting good at tracking by scent since the lion in me heightened my senses.

Stiles handed me a pair of shorts from Scott's closet, and I sniffed it before shaking my head and throwing it away.

"Fabric softener," I explained. Stiles frowned then jetted to Scott's bathroom. I followed and saw Stiles digging through Scott's dirty laundry hamper. And apparently, the only thing there was Scott's boxers. I winced, prepared to say find something else.

"Remember, Scott's life is on the line," Stiles urged. I groaned and snatched the underwear from his hands. Every time I neared the cloth to my face, I pulled back. This was wrong, even for a life or death situation. "Just shove your face in the thing and let's go!"

I glared at him before bringing the underwear to my nose and inhaling. The scent instantly lodged itself into my nose, as did the queasy feeling that accompanied smelling your friend's underwear.

"Are you smelling Scott's underwear?" Malia asked, slight repulsion in her tone as I whipped around.

"We're finding a scent," I said, a mortified blush rising on my cheeks. Malia frowned and looked around before walking to Scott's bed. She picked up his pillow and smelled it then looked over to me and Stiles with a 'you're stupid' look. I froze for a second, then I turned to chuck the underwear at Stiles and wave an angry finger in his face. "Never speak of this, you got that?"

Stiles' mouth hung open as I turned my back to him, crossing my arms angrily. He tried to apologize, his hand landing on my shoulder. I'm pretty sure he was laughing quietly. I jerked out of his reach.

"Don't touch me. I'm gunna throw up." I could see Malia biting her lips in an effort to hide her laugh, and I covered my mouth with my hand. I was disgusted with myself. Why didn't we think of the damn pillow?

"We should head out," Stiles said. I agreed quickly, eager to get the situation out of my head even though the scent wouldn't. Malia and Stiles followed me down the stairs, and as soon as I turned the corner, I saw Liam sitting at the kitchen table, waiting.

"Liam," I said, happy to see him. Stiles, on the other hand, didn't share my joy.

"Oh, Liam! Go home. You're not coming with us."

"Why not?" Liam whined as we passed him, Malia toting Scott's pillow with her.

"Because it's a full moon," I told him gently. "It's too dangerous, for you and us."

"Yeah, and I don't feel like driving all the way down to Mexico just to have you rip my throat out," Stiles added, stopping only for a second to face him. I gave Stiles a look that he ignored, but Liam didn't seem to mind what Stiles said.

"Then you can lock me up," Liam pleaded. "Chain me down in the backseat or something."

"You tore through the last chains, Liam," I reminded. Part of me—most of me—wanted to let Liam come in order to satisfy some weird need I had to make him happy, but the other part of me knew I had to keep him safe, and it seemed like the way to do that was by keeping him here.

"Yeah, we'd have to freeze you in carbonite to get you down there," Stiles said.

Liam, poor thing, just shrugged and said, "Okay, where do we get carbonite?" Stiles squinted at him, his lips pursed, and Malia turned to look at Stiles, unsure of how to respond. I hid my snort with my hand, biting down on my tip of my finger as I looked at Liam.

"Seriously? You haven't seen it either?" Stiles muttered angrily. Stiles turned stiffly towards the door, and an idea sprung to mind.

"Wait!" Stiles sighed and turned back to look at me. "Liam, if you're sure you want to come, there's an option."

"I'm sure."

"Stiles, remember that time we kidnapped Jackson?"

"We didn't kidnap hi-."

"Not the point!" I interrupted. "The prison transport van. What if we got another one like that?" Liam was eager to accept the option as Stiles eyes widened at me with understanding.

"On it. Come on. You-." Stiles started to pull out his phone, but stopped to point at Liam. "You're in the back."