Teen Wolf Fic: Coincidences and Patterns (1/1, Gen (Sheriff), G)
Coincidences and Patterns - Teen Wolf - Gen (Sheriff Stilinski) - Words: 1,534
Written for the Beacon Hills Land Comm, Sheriff Centric Fanworks Challenge.
Summary: The Sheriff finds his son at the local gay bar. Again.
Content Notes: Discussion of memory loss and the potential of roofies being used in a club environment. No actual non-con or drugging.
On AO3: Coincidences and Patterns
"I am too old for this," Sheriff Stilinski muttered to himself as a man looked him over once and raised his eyebrows before hurrying away. The man in question probably wasn't a day over 25 and when the Sheriff spotted a pair of boys dancing that couldn't possibly have been out of high school yet he just sighed and took another sip of his coke. "Way too old for this."
Three weeks ago Patrick Haynes, owner and manager of The Jungle, had come down to the Sheriff's Department asking for help. The Sheriff's first concern had been unreported violence towards the local gay community - that was not going to happen in his town, not if he could help it. What Haynes told him was almost worse, in a way. Haynes had heard a handful of stories about people who had been at his bar winding up with missing memories, something that had only started in the past month or so. Haynes had thought that it was simply a case of drinking too much, though he curbed that in his establishment as much as possible, but when he overheard one of the high school kids giving pretty much the same story he'd come right down to the Sheriff's Department.
"I let the under-18s in because, well, Beacon Hills isn't that big of a town, you know? It's not like these kids have anywhere else to go, and I figure it's safer here where me and my guys can keep an eye on them. All of my bartenders know not to serve them alcohol, I'm not looking to facilitate underage drinking," Haynes had said and then had looked devastated as he continued. "I just never thought that there would be someone using date rape drugs in my bar, and especially not on the kids. This needs to stop."
The Sheriff had understood Haynes' position on letting high school kids into the bar, even agreed with it, and he'd set up a rotating shift with his deputies to have someone monitoring the bar and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. So here he was, in plain clothes and with a drink for disguise even though pretty much everyone in town knew who he was, patrolling the back corners of the club. They'd worked to provide education and there were posters plastered everywhere about staying with your group of friends and watching your drink, and even with the presence of the Sheriff's deputies there had still been four more reports of missing memories following a night spent at The Jungle.
The atmosphere inside the club had changed since the first night the Sheriff had come to observe. People clumped in small groups, traveled in pairs when they went from the dance floor to the bar, and it was only very rarely that the Sheriff spotted a lone wolf lurking around the edges of the crowd. Between himself and the other deputies they'd started compiling a list of the loners that they saw on more than one occasion, mostly by description, but also by name when they recognized the person in question. The Sheriff was starting to think it was likely they were looking for a team or a pair instead of a single person, which would only make their task that much more difficult.
The crowd parted slightly and the Sheriff peered through the opening that had been left to a small alcove at the back of the club. In the brief instance he'd been able to see, something had pinged on his mental radar, though he couldn't say what it was exactly. Over the years he'd learned to follow those little instincts because more often than not he'd picked up on something without realizing it - it was only later when he sat down and put the pieces together that he would figure out what had clued him in. He made his way through the crowd, edging along the side so he wouldn't be spotted by his target, and when he reached a place where he had a clear view he stopped and blinked a few times to make sure the strobing lights and pounding music in the club hadn't addled his senses.
There were two boys blocking the entrance to the alcove, twins if his eyes weren't deceiving him, and he very much doubted that they had graduated high school yet. Standing in the alcove he could see two more figures in the darkness that looked vaguely familiar. The first, tall enough that his features could be seen when one of the twins shifted slightly to the side, was Isaac Lahey. Isaac's jaw was set in the same quiet determination that the Sheriff was familiar with from when he had questioned Isaac a few months ago, and there was also that same undercurrent of fear in his gaze. The second figure he only got a look at when a light flashed briefly in their direction, and it couldn't possibly be, but, "Stiles?"
Even though Stiles and the people gathered around him couldn't possibly have heard him through the din, the twins and Isaac both turned in the Sheriff's direction, Stiles looking a second later with his eyes wide.
The Sheriff met Stiles' gaze and knew that his message of 'stay right there' was received, though whether or not Stiles would choose to follow those instructions was anyone's guess. He grumbled slightly as he weaved his way through the dancers, his mind not so helpfully reminding him of the last time he'd found Stiles at The Jungle. Twice may have only been a coincidence, but with his son in the equation the Sheriff was more willing to think that this might be a pattern. It certainly didn't help that both times now Stiles was right in the middle of something dangerous, and that Stiles couldn't even see the sharks circling.
By the time he reached Stiles and Isaac the twins had melted away into the crowd and the Sheriff had a moment to wonder why that was bothering him so badly when Stiles started speaking.
"Okay, so, there's something I have to tell you!" Stiles shouted over the music.
"I'm listening," the Sheriff called back, fixing Isaac with a look when Isaac started to edge out of the alcove. Isaac stopped moving and stuffed his hands awkwardly in his pockets.
"Here? You want to do this here?" Stiles exclaimed, and the Sheriff turned when he saw Stiles looking past him out onto the dance floor.
When he didn't see anything out of the ordinary he turned back to Stiles. "Is there a better place?" he asked, because if his son was going to actually come out to him, it might as well be at a gay bar. It would be something they could laugh about later. Years later. "Isaac too?"
Stiles and Isaac looked at each other with wide eyes. "Well, he's involved," Stiles said after a moment and shrugged at Isaac.
Isaac shrugged back and scooted a half step away from the Sheriff.
"Maybe we should get Derek for this? And Scott?" Stiles suggested, more to Isaac than to his dad.
The Sheriff felt his eyes go wide. "Derek? And Scott too? Is there something in the water at the high school?" he asked in disbelief. He shifted to look back at the dance floor when he felt movement behind him and blinked when he saw Jackson pulling Danny up to the alcove, their hands intertwined.
"They went out the back, you were supposed to be watching them," Jackson said directly to Stiles.
Stiles waved his arms in a gesture that conveyed exactly nothing. "Kind of having other problems right now. Also, thanks for abandoning us to them. Really nice."
Jackson gave a one-shouldered shrug and was immediately elbowed by Danny. "Hello, Sheriff Stilinski," Danny said politely.
"Danny, Jackson," the Sheriff acknowledged, unable to keep his gaze from flickering down to where they were holding hands. "If you'll excuse us. Stiles, let's go outside for a minute. Isaac, you better come along as well," he ordered. This was a talk he wanted to have with Stiles, but with everything that had been happening in the club he couldn't leave Isaac alone and defenseless either.
Stiles and Isaac obediently followed him from the alcove and around the edges of the dance floor, the Sheriff entirely aware that Stiles was attempting to have some sort of silent conversation with Jackson as they walked away.
"So," the Sheriff said when they were outside and he could actually hear himself think. "You had something you wanted to tell me?"
Stiles glanced at Isaac, and Isaac shrugged, and then Stiles shrugged and looked back to the Sheriff. "So, there might be a killer crazy Werewolf Alpha Pack in town trying to torment and kill us. And I'm pretty sure I'm bi."
The Sheriff blinked twice and sighed at the realization that this conversation wasn't going to be as simple as 'I love and support you regardless of your sexual orientation'. "Come on, let me call a deputy to take my place at the club and we'll go talk," he said, and motioned Stiles and Isaac in the direction of his car.
Written for the Beacon Hills Land Comm, Sheriff Centric Fanworks Challenge.
Summary: The Sheriff finds his son at the local gay bar. Again.
Content Notes: Discussion of memory loss and the potential of roofies being used in a club environment. No actual non-con or drugging.
On AO3: Coincidences and Patterns
"I am too old for this," Sheriff Stilinski muttered to himself as a man looked him over once and raised his eyebrows before hurrying away. The man in question probably wasn't a day over 25 and when the Sheriff spotted a pair of boys dancing that couldn't possibly have been out of high school yet he just sighed and took another sip of his coke. "Way too old for this."
Three weeks ago Patrick Haynes, owner and manager of The Jungle, had come down to the Sheriff's Department asking for help. The Sheriff's first concern had been unreported violence towards the local gay community - that was not going to happen in his town, not if he could help it. What Haynes told him was almost worse, in a way. Haynes had heard a handful of stories about people who had been at his bar winding up with missing memories, something that had only started in the past month or so. Haynes had thought that it was simply a case of drinking too much, though he curbed that in his establishment as much as possible, but when he overheard one of the high school kids giving pretty much the same story he'd come right down to the Sheriff's Department.
"I let the under-18s in because, well, Beacon Hills isn't that big of a town, you know? It's not like these kids have anywhere else to go, and I figure it's safer here where me and my guys can keep an eye on them. All of my bartenders know not to serve them alcohol, I'm not looking to facilitate underage drinking," Haynes had said and then had looked devastated as he continued. "I just never thought that there would be someone using date rape drugs in my bar, and especially not on the kids. This needs to stop."
The Sheriff had understood Haynes' position on letting high school kids into the bar, even agreed with it, and he'd set up a rotating shift with his deputies to have someone monitoring the bar and keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. So here he was, in plain clothes and with a drink for disguise even though pretty much everyone in town knew who he was, patrolling the back corners of the club. They'd worked to provide education and there were posters plastered everywhere about staying with your group of friends and watching your drink, and even with the presence of the Sheriff's deputies there had still been four more reports of missing memories following a night spent at The Jungle.
The atmosphere inside the club had changed since the first night the Sheriff had come to observe. People clumped in small groups, traveled in pairs when they went from the dance floor to the bar, and it was only very rarely that the Sheriff spotted a lone wolf lurking around the edges of the crowd. Between himself and the other deputies they'd started compiling a list of the loners that they saw on more than one occasion, mostly by description, but also by name when they recognized the person in question. The Sheriff was starting to think it was likely they were looking for a team or a pair instead of a single person, which would only make their task that much more difficult.
The crowd parted slightly and the Sheriff peered through the opening that had been left to a small alcove at the back of the club. In the brief instance he'd been able to see, something had pinged on his mental radar, though he couldn't say what it was exactly. Over the years he'd learned to follow those little instincts because more often than not he'd picked up on something without realizing it - it was only later when he sat down and put the pieces together that he would figure out what had clued him in. He made his way through the crowd, edging along the side so he wouldn't be spotted by his target, and when he reached a place where he had a clear view he stopped and blinked a few times to make sure the strobing lights and pounding music in the club hadn't addled his senses.
There were two boys blocking the entrance to the alcove, twins if his eyes weren't deceiving him, and he very much doubted that they had graduated high school yet. Standing in the alcove he could see two more figures in the darkness that looked vaguely familiar. The first, tall enough that his features could be seen when one of the twins shifted slightly to the side, was Isaac Lahey. Isaac's jaw was set in the same quiet determination that the Sheriff was familiar with from when he had questioned Isaac a few months ago, and there was also that same undercurrent of fear in his gaze. The second figure he only got a look at when a light flashed briefly in their direction, and it couldn't possibly be, but, "Stiles?"
Even though Stiles and the people gathered around him couldn't possibly have heard him through the din, the twins and Isaac both turned in the Sheriff's direction, Stiles looking a second later with his eyes wide.
The Sheriff met Stiles' gaze and knew that his message of 'stay right there' was received, though whether or not Stiles would choose to follow those instructions was anyone's guess. He grumbled slightly as he weaved his way through the dancers, his mind not so helpfully reminding him of the last time he'd found Stiles at The Jungle. Twice may have only been a coincidence, but with his son in the equation the Sheriff was more willing to think that this might be a pattern. It certainly didn't help that both times now Stiles was right in the middle of something dangerous, and that Stiles couldn't even see the sharks circling.
By the time he reached Stiles and Isaac the twins had melted away into the crowd and the Sheriff had a moment to wonder why that was bothering him so badly when Stiles started speaking.
"Okay, so, there's something I have to tell you!" Stiles shouted over the music.
"I'm listening," the Sheriff called back, fixing Isaac with a look when Isaac started to edge out of the alcove. Isaac stopped moving and stuffed his hands awkwardly in his pockets.
"Here? You want to do this here?" Stiles exclaimed, and the Sheriff turned when he saw Stiles looking past him out onto the dance floor.
When he didn't see anything out of the ordinary he turned back to Stiles. "Is there a better place?" he asked, because if his son was going to actually come out to him, it might as well be at a gay bar. It would be something they could laugh about later. Years later. "Isaac too?"
Stiles and Isaac looked at each other with wide eyes. "Well, he's involved," Stiles said after a moment and shrugged at Isaac.
Isaac shrugged back and scooted a half step away from the Sheriff.
"Maybe we should get Derek for this? And Scott?" Stiles suggested, more to Isaac than to his dad.
The Sheriff felt his eyes go wide. "Derek? And Scott too? Is there something in the water at the high school?" he asked in disbelief. He shifted to look back at the dance floor when he felt movement behind him and blinked when he saw Jackson pulling Danny up to the alcove, their hands intertwined.
"They went out the back, you were supposed to be watching them," Jackson said directly to Stiles.
Stiles waved his arms in a gesture that conveyed exactly nothing. "Kind of having other problems right now. Also, thanks for abandoning us to them. Really nice."
Jackson gave a one-shouldered shrug and was immediately elbowed by Danny. "Hello, Sheriff Stilinski," Danny said politely.
"Danny, Jackson," the Sheriff acknowledged, unable to keep his gaze from flickering down to where they were holding hands. "If you'll excuse us. Stiles, let's go outside for a minute. Isaac, you better come along as well," he ordered. This was a talk he wanted to have with Stiles, but with everything that had been happening in the club he couldn't leave Isaac alone and defenseless either.
Stiles and Isaac obediently followed him from the alcove and around the edges of the dance floor, the Sheriff entirely aware that Stiles was attempting to have some sort of silent conversation with Jackson as they walked away.
"So," the Sheriff said when they were outside and he could actually hear himself think. "You had something you wanted to tell me?"
Stiles glanced at Isaac, and Isaac shrugged, and then Stiles shrugged and looked back to the Sheriff. "So, there might be a killer crazy Werewolf Alpha Pack in town trying to torment and kill us. And I'm pretty sure I'm bi."
The Sheriff blinked twice and sighed at the realization that this conversation wasn't going to be as simple as 'I love and support you regardless of your sexual orientation'. "Come on, let me call a deputy to take my place at the club and we'll go talk," he said, and motioned Stiles and Isaac in the direction of his car.