Mischief

Chapter Four

This fic has some quite heavy topics like mental health, panic attacks, violence, murder, drugs, sex, human trafficking and r*pe (not described, only referenced/insinuated and talked about), so MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING.

-Tuesday 9:03 am- Stiles

My heart is in my throat as I step out of Derek's car, wringing my hands. I know I have to do this, but I never planned to see Dad again, and especially in these circumstances. Never will I ever tell him about what I personally went through, he doesn't deserve that horror, nor do I think that he could handle it.

"Who-who will I be talking to?" I ask Derek as we begin walking to the station entrance.

He gives me a small, close-mouthed smile. "The sheriff, Sti. He handles calls and cases like yours."

I pause walking, my breathing momentarily catching. "Is that because of me?"

Derek sighs and rests his hands on my shoulders. "That's what Scott told me. He takes these situations seriously, and this was the first case that he handed over to Scott and me."

I nod. "I guess that means he really trusts you both."

"Yeah. So, come on, let's do this. I promise, this is the beginning of Theo's downfall."

I nod again, a constant frown on my face. I don't want to do this, but I know I have to. "Stay with me?"

He smile transforms from pitying to comforting, and his right hands slides across my shoulder to hold me to his side. "Of course, Sti. I won't leave your side until you tell me to."

Derek's hold on me is similar to how Theo does but... There's something inherently different. Theo's hold is possessive and controlling, like he owns me. But Derek's hold is warm and protective, I feel safe with him, like nothing and no one could hurt me while in his arms. Fuck, I'm being clingy.

"Thank you."

We head inside, me tucked securely to Derek's side, my nerves calmer, and I feel like I can function now.

My nerves immediately return when I enter the pit, seeing the back of Scott's head. "Oh god," I breathe out. "I don't want Scott to see me. I don't want him to know."

"It'll be okay, Sti," Derek says. "C'mon, we'll beeline it to the sheriff's office."

I nod and out pace quickens and I can only hope that Scott doesn't notice me.

"Hey Derek!" Scott yells and I tense up, Derek's arm tightens around me. "Who's this?"

Derek turns his head to Scott, but I can tell he is trying hard not to show my face. "Um," he clears his throat, "this is Mischief. One of the performers I interviewed yesterday. Turns out, he does have some information about The Gallery."

"Oh cool," Scott says, and before either of us can react, he steps in front of us. It takes him a second, but I know the exact moment he recognises me. "Holy shit, Stiles."

"Uh," Derek attempts to step in. "Sorry Scott, um, Mis-Sti-uh..."

If I wasn't panicking, I would have laughed. "S-Sorry. I can't..."

I run to Dad's office, not fully thinking it through. My mind is in a daze about Scott seeing me, I don't even consider the fact that my dad will be in his office.

I swing the door open and slam it shut, resting my forehead against the frosted glass, sighing loudly.

"Who are you?" Comes the oh-so-familiar voice from behind the desk.