Pancakes and Murder (Teen Wolf, Stiles/Derek) 2b/4
Title: Pancakes and Murder (chapter two, part two)
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
Stiles glared at Scott, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. Scott was busy texting his girlfriend Allison and therefore was oblivious to everything else. "Are you seriously not going to ask me about the dinner from hell?"
Scott looked up from his phone startled. "Oh! Um, how did it go?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Terrific, thanks for asking."
"Yeah?" Scott replied uncertainly.
"Yeah, Derek and my dad really hit it off, because you know how they have so much in common. Like how Derek was a murder suspect and my dad is the sheriff. It gave them a lot to talk about. And my Dad was completely understanding about Derek spending the night in my room. He didn't practically come out and call him a sex predator or anything."
Scott winced.
"On the bright side, nobody killed anybody."
"That's good," Scott nodded in agreement.
"And he didn't order me to stay away from Derek like I thought he would. As long as he doesn't come into my room anymore, we're good."
"Do you think you could get your dad to order Derek to stop sneaking into my room too," asked Scott hopefully. "I'm going to have a heart attack someday."
"Sorry, you're on your own for that one." Stiles pulled into the hospital parking lot. They hurried inside and made their way to the morgue. Outside the door they paused, waiting for the coast to clear.
"You stay and keep watch," said Scott, "Text me if anyone comes."
Stiles screwed his face up. "Why do I have to keep watch? You got to check out the body last time."
"Because," said Scott, "I'm the one with the wolf-senses, remember? I might be able to catch something you couldn't."
Scott might be right, but that didn't mean Stiles had to like it. "Fine, go. Now. Before someone comes." He shooed Scott through the door. Stiles then leaned casually on the wall next to it. He checked his watch, waited, and then checked his watch again. After a few minutes passed and nobody walked by, Stiles' impatience got the better of him. "Screw it." He ducked inside the door.
He found Scott opening one of the slabs. He glanced up at Stiles startled. "Stiles, what are you doing?"
"Nobody is coming. And if somebody does show up, you'd hear them approach first with your wolfy hearing."
Scott shook his head. "Fine." He walked around to the side of the slab and pulled down the sheet covering the body.
"Is that it?" asked Stiles coming around to the other side.
"I think so." He looked down at body in surprise. "He's our age!"
Stiles looked down. He then took a whiff and had to close his nose. It wasn't decayed yet, but it definitely had that death smell to it. How did Scott stand it with his super sense of smell? "He was our age," he corrected nasally. Stiles frowned. "Does he look familiar to you?"
"Kind of. Do you think he went to school with us?"
Stiles took out his phone and brought up their school's website. It took him a couple minutes but he found it. He held up the phone for Scott to see. On it was the photo of the teen lying before them. The caption underneath read, "Beacon Hills High Bugle Editor."
"That's right, I saw him interview Jackson once about the lacrosse team for the school paper."
"I remember. Jackson was particularly full of himself the day the article came out with a picture of him on the front page." Stiles made a face. A few of the other team members were also visible. Scott even got a bit of his shoulder in one photo. Stiles' name hadn't even been printed with the team's roster. "So what was the school newspaper's editor doing at the Hale house?"
Stiles shrugged. "I guess we'll be making a visit to the school news team tomorrow. What about his wounds?" Scott turned the boys arm around revealing a stretch of four gouges running up his forearm. Stiles scrunched up his nose. "What do you think? Human or..."
Scott shook his head. "I can't tell."
"But a werewolf could snap someone's neck?"
"Yeah, but a human could do that too if they were strong enough."
"Yeah, if they were hulk-strong." Along with the broken neck and the scratches, there were spots of discoloration to his skin. Bruises. "Looks like he took a beating too."
Scott sighed. "Still doesn’t mean werewolf. There's no bite marks."
"Hey don't get me wrong, I'll be doing the happy dance of joy if this turns out to be a run of the mill murder, rather than a supernatural one."
Scott closed the slab. "Either way, there's still a killer out there."
Stiles sobered. "Yeah." Quietly he added, "And he knows where Derek lives."
* * *
"Derek!" The yellow tape over the front door had already been ripped off. Stiles cautiously stepped inside the house. It was dark and hard to see. "Derek!" His voice echoed faintly. The floor creaked under his feet. Stiles never should have dropped Derek off here. "Derek, it's Stiles!" Stiles looked around frantically. What if the killer had returned? Stiles would like to think that Derek could handle it, but considering his track record of almost getting killed, he wasn't too positive. "Derek, where are you," he muttered, worriedly.
"I'm here."
Stiles jumped, grabbing his heart as he turned to his left. "Derek." Stiles took a deep breath. "You should seriously wear a bell or something."
Derek stalked towards him. "What are you doing here, Stiles?"
"I was worried."
Derek cocked his head to the side.
Stiles flailed his arms. "There's a killer on the loose, remember? What if he... returns to the scene of the crime or something?"
Derek rolled his eyes dismissively. "The cops have been all over this place, there's police tape everywhere. I doubt he would come back. If there even is a killer."
"But what if it that kid dying here, in this house, wasn't a coincidence?"
Derek narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"What if the killer was actually here waiting for you? But Grady showed up instead."
Derek froze.
"What?" Stiles whispered in case the killer had returned. His eyes darted side to side, but saw nothing.
Derek stared off into the dark. "The kid who was killed, his name was Grady?"
"Yeah, Stan Grady. Why?"
Derek turned his head. "A few weeks ago I got a call from someone by that name. I have no idea how he got my cell number, but he wanted to interview me about the incident at the school."
"And?"
"And I hung up on him."
Huh. Stiles tapped his chin in thought. "Do you think he came here looking for you?"
"I don't know." Derek sounded tired.
"You shouldn't stay here. Not until we figure out what happened."
"I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Sure you do," Stiles smiled. "You're coming home with me."
Derek glared. "You know what your father said..."
Stiles shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We'll sneak you in through the window again."
It took a little more convincing, but eventually Stiles wore him down and he agreed (if only to shut Stiles up).
Stiles came in through the front door, ready to take his licks for missing curfew. He found his dad asleep on the couch. Stiles pulled a blanket of the back of a chair and laid it over his dad. He kissed his dad on the forehead, and then quietly crept up the stairs. Derek was already inside his room waiting.
It was late and Stiles was ready to crash. He handed Derek a blanket and pillow. Derek took them, but stood there, staring at Stiles like he wanted to say something. "You know," said Stiles looking pointedly at his bed, "We could share the bed."
"Don't push it."
* * *
Next.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Stiles/Derek
Stiles glared at Scott, who was sitting in the passenger seat of his jeep. Scott was busy texting his girlfriend Allison and therefore was oblivious to everything else. "Are you seriously not going to ask me about the dinner from hell?"
Scott looked up from his phone startled. "Oh! Um, how did it go?"
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Terrific, thanks for asking."
"Yeah?" Scott replied uncertainly.
"Yeah, Derek and my dad really hit it off, because you know how they have so much in common. Like how Derek was a murder suspect and my dad is the sheriff. It gave them a lot to talk about. And my Dad was completely understanding about Derek spending the night in my room. He didn't practically come out and call him a sex predator or anything."
Scott winced.
"On the bright side, nobody killed anybody."
"That's good," Scott nodded in agreement.
"And he didn't order me to stay away from Derek like I thought he would. As long as he doesn't come into my room anymore, we're good."
"Do you think you could get your dad to order Derek to stop sneaking into my room too," asked Scott hopefully. "I'm going to have a heart attack someday."
"Sorry, you're on your own for that one." Stiles pulled into the hospital parking lot. They hurried inside and made their way to the morgue. Outside the door they paused, waiting for the coast to clear.
"You stay and keep watch," said Scott, "Text me if anyone comes."
Stiles screwed his face up. "Why do I have to keep watch? You got to check out the body last time."
"Because," said Scott, "I'm the one with the wolf-senses, remember? I might be able to catch something you couldn't."
Scott might be right, but that didn't mean Stiles had to like it. "Fine, go. Now. Before someone comes." He shooed Scott through the door. Stiles then leaned casually on the wall next to it. He checked his watch, waited, and then checked his watch again. After a few minutes passed and nobody walked by, Stiles' impatience got the better of him. "Screw it." He ducked inside the door.
He found Scott opening one of the slabs. He glanced up at Stiles startled. "Stiles, what are you doing?"
"Nobody is coming. And if somebody does show up, you'd hear them approach first with your wolfy hearing."
Scott shook his head. "Fine." He walked around to the side of the slab and pulled down the sheet covering the body.
"Is that it?" asked Stiles coming around to the other side.
"I think so." He looked down at body in surprise. "He's our age!"
Stiles looked down. He then took a whiff and had to close his nose. It wasn't decayed yet, but it definitely had that death smell to it. How did Scott stand it with his super sense of smell? "He was our age," he corrected nasally. Stiles frowned. "Does he look familiar to you?"
"Kind of. Do you think he went to school with us?"
Stiles took out his phone and brought up their school's website. It took him a couple minutes but he found it. He held up the phone for Scott to see. On it was the photo of the teen lying before them. The caption underneath read, "Beacon Hills High Bugle Editor."
"That's right, I saw him interview Jackson once about the lacrosse team for the school paper."
"I remember. Jackson was particularly full of himself the day the article came out with a picture of him on the front page." Stiles made a face. A few of the other team members were also visible. Scott even got a bit of his shoulder in one photo. Stiles' name hadn't even been printed with the team's roster. "So what was the school newspaper's editor doing at the Hale house?"
Stiles shrugged. "I guess we'll be making a visit to the school news team tomorrow. What about his wounds?" Scott turned the boys arm around revealing a stretch of four gouges running up his forearm. Stiles scrunched up his nose. "What do you think? Human or..."
Scott shook his head. "I can't tell."
"But a werewolf could snap someone's neck?"
"Yeah, but a human could do that too if they were strong enough."
"Yeah, if they were hulk-strong." Along with the broken neck and the scratches, there were spots of discoloration to his skin. Bruises. "Looks like he took a beating too."
Scott sighed. "Still doesn’t mean werewolf. There's no bite marks."
"Hey don't get me wrong, I'll be doing the happy dance of joy if this turns out to be a run of the mill murder, rather than a supernatural one."
Scott closed the slab. "Either way, there's still a killer out there."
Stiles sobered. "Yeah." Quietly he added, "And he knows where Derek lives."
* * *
"Derek!" The yellow tape over the front door had already been ripped off. Stiles cautiously stepped inside the house. It was dark and hard to see. "Derek!" His voice echoed faintly. The floor creaked under his feet. Stiles never should have dropped Derek off here. "Derek, it's Stiles!" Stiles looked around frantically. What if the killer had returned? Stiles would like to think that Derek could handle it, but considering his track record of almost getting killed, he wasn't too positive. "Derek, where are you," he muttered, worriedly.
"I'm here."
Stiles jumped, grabbing his heart as he turned to his left. "Derek." Stiles took a deep breath. "You should seriously wear a bell or something."
Derek stalked towards him. "What are you doing here, Stiles?"
"I was worried."
Derek cocked his head to the side.
Stiles flailed his arms. "There's a killer on the loose, remember? What if he... returns to the scene of the crime or something?"
Derek rolled his eyes dismissively. "The cops have been all over this place, there's police tape everywhere. I doubt he would come back. If there even is a killer."
"But what if it that kid dying here, in this house, wasn't a coincidence?"
Derek narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"What if the killer was actually here waiting for you? But Grady showed up instead."
Derek froze.
"What?" Stiles whispered in case the killer had returned. His eyes darted side to side, but saw nothing.
Derek stared off into the dark. "The kid who was killed, his name was Grady?"
"Yeah, Stan Grady. Why?"
Derek turned his head. "A few weeks ago I got a call from someone by that name. I have no idea how he got my cell number, but he wanted to interview me about the incident at the school."
"And?"
"And I hung up on him."
Huh. Stiles tapped his chin in thought. "Do you think he came here looking for you?"
"I don't know." Derek sounded tired.
"You shouldn't stay here. Not until we figure out what happened."
"I don't have anywhere else to go."
"Sure you do," Stiles smiled. "You're coming home with me."
Derek glared. "You know what your father said..."
Stiles shrugged. "What he doesn't know won't hurt him. We'll sneak you in through the window again."
It took a little more convincing, but eventually Stiles wore him down and he agreed (if only to shut Stiles up).
Stiles came in through the front door, ready to take his licks for missing curfew. He found his dad asleep on the couch. Stiles pulled a blanket of the back of a chair and laid it over his dad. He kissed his dad on the forehead, and then quietly crept up the stairs. Derek was already inside his room waiting.
It was late and Stiles was ready to crash. He handed Derek a blanket and pillow. Derek took them, but stood there, staring at Stiles like he wanted to say something. "You know," said Stiles looking pointedly at his bed, "We could share the bed."
"Don't push it."
* * *
Next.