Demons - Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Chapter 11: The Arrest of Derek Hale

The cold wind nips at my cheeks as I trudge through the forest towards an old burnt shell of a house. Leaves crunching under my feet and occasionally getting kicked up. As the blackened building comes into view so does a faded blue jeep parked in the treeline with a flannel-clad boy fidgeting in front of it, anxiously watching as policemen milled around and stretched tape around an upturned pile of dirt. As I approach Stiles from behind, he's bouncing on his toes and lightly biting the knuckle of his index finger.

"I got your text," my voice startles him, "How come all the interesting stuff happens when I'm not around?" I chuckle leaning against the hood of the Jeep. He turns towards me, a small smile crinkling his cheeks.

"You wouldn't miss it if you had come with us," he retorts nudging my arm, leaning beside me and crossing his arms.

I fall gently into his side to nudge him with my shoulder, "If I go with you boys everywhere you wouldn't have time to miss me. And, I wouldn't want to intrude on your alone time with your dearest Scotty."

He turns his head, mouth agape in offence as I make kissy faces at him. He releases a sharp gasp and leans forward, his mint mojito breath washing over my face. Opening his mouth in retort, he is abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of one Scott McCall.

He wanders around the car looking down at his phone screen, his thumbs moving rapidly across the screen. Stiles quickly moves away from me, putting some more distance between us and clears his throat.

"Melissa still freaking out?" he asks casually causing the distracted wolf-boy to look up. His face scrunches in surprise when his eyes land on me. I raise a hand in greeting.

"She'll live," he mutters shoving his phone into the back pocket of his muddy jeans and taking up position beside us, his arms crossing.

The dark broody werewolf is lead out of the burnt-out house at that moment by Sheriff Stilinski and one of his deputies. The blue eyes of the man stare icily towards us as he is put into the back of the police cruiser. His stare is unsettling, almost as though he was staring into my soul.

In an attempt to shake off the feeling I turn to Scott, "Mama McCall find out about the body?" I turn to look at the boy and get the cruiser out of my line of sight. Scott glances at me before returning his gaze to the police officers behind me.

"Ye-," he cuts himself off, "No. Oh, God!" He stands abruptly tangling his hand in his hair. Confused I turn just in time to see Stiles climb into the front of the cruiser with the murder suspect. I quickly look at the spot he once occupied. That boy is going to get himself hurt someday with these shenanigans.

"What is he doing?" I murmur, mostly to myself.

Scott sighs, "Who has ever known the answer to that question?" He moves closer to me and takes up the position the crazy boy in the police car once was. Only one person did. And she is long gone. Shaking my head to rid myself of the memories of the small frail frame in the hospital bed and shifting uncomfortably pulling at my bandaged midsection. I feel a tug at one of my scabs and a dull pain as the wound begins to leak.

I keep a neutral expression and clear my throat as I look up at the boy at my side. "How are you holding up? Last time we had time to talk you were nearly having a panic attack over Allison's dad?"

As Scott slowly turns his head to me tearing his eyes away from the boy in the front of the cop car disbelief colouring his features, "Is this really the time to discuss my failing love life?"

"While we're waiting for Stiles' dad to drag him out of the car before he gets mauled by a werewolf, why not?" the wind lightly blows my hair from behind my ear. Tussling the locks gently. His face shifts slightly to one of concern.