Mischief

Chapter Eight

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 2:10 pm- Stiles

Dad and I are in Derek's car, heading to Derek's, my temporary home. I'm on edge as I sit in the passenger seat, I don't want to talk to him about what's happening, and I also don't want to go back to the Gallery. But... my friends lives are in my hands, and I refuse to let them down and essentially kill them. It will be my fault.

"Boyd will be there to keep an eye on you from now on. But, don't worry, we've taken steps to ensure that he won't be suspicious. He's just going to be there to protect you, not interact with you."

I silently nod, my argumentative mood has left me. I understand anyone else to be in danger because of me.

"We were also talking about getting solid evidence in the form of audio and/or visual recordings. We want to make sure that when we arrest Theo, it will be the only time we have to."

"What about my friends?" I ask him.

"That goes without saying," Dad says, sending me a reassuring smiles, "we will get them out of there alongside you."

I nod, my nerves easing a bit at that statement. But I'm not out of the woods yet. I still need to get that evidence Dad was talking about. Maybe I can talk to Derek about hooking me up with some high tech spy stuff. My seventeen year-old self is vibrating in excitement over that idea.

"Thank you," I say. "I hope it'll work out."

"I have every faith in this," Dad says strongly. "I promise, Stiles. Everything will be okay."

I just nod again, lapsing the car into silence. It's hard for me to fully believe that everything will be okay. Not after everything I've had to go through and do. I guess the past five years has made me have a more pessimistic outlook on life.

Fuck. I need to keep seeing Danny. If I continue thinking poorly about life, I might not survive much longer. When I was fully trapped in Theo's hold, I found the strength to carry on through thinking about Dad and my life in Beacon Hills. But, now that I'm on the path to getting out? I need to find a new strength and meaning.

It doesn't take long for me to rush inside Derek's house and grab my clean outfit which I shove into my shoulder bag. I always have a clean outfit ready in case I have to leave one at work from a previous shift. Usually, it's because of times like last night when Theo makes me stay afterwards. Not to be crude or anything, but, my robe is generally the only thing that walks out clean.

I ask Dad to drop me off a ways away from The Gallery. I really don't want to draw attention or raise suspicion.

Entering this place, I immediately notice the looks Theo and Todd, the bouncer, are sending me. Suspicious and hate filled.

The only reason I'm calm is because I spot Boyd, but I obviously don't look at him too long. That'd be dangerous.

So, hopefully, with Boyd's watchful eye, I'll be safe.

Hopefully.

-9:45 pm-

My shift is nearly over and I'm slowly calming down. Theo has been avoiding me the entire time, so that's a relief. The only concern I have currently is the looks that Isaac has been sending me. I can't interpret them, so I'm not sure what they are for. Basically, I'm going to have to ask him directly.