Chapter Text
“You have reached the voice mailbox of Scott McCall.” Stiles sighed as he hung up without leaving a message. At least his best friend is consistent. It was officially the second week of summer vacation. Stiles has spent the majority inside allowing his bruises to heal from Gerard's beating (no amount of time could heal his bruised ego) and he was more than a little stir crazy.
The pack had been oddly quiet, although, he supposed that was to be expected now that the immediate danger had subsided. Gerard was on the loose but spewing black blood and certainly not in any position to kidnap and torture wolves or teens. Matt was dead. Allison and Scott were working on their issues. Allison had heard the truth behind her mother’s death and was slowly moving towards acceptance. Isaac had officially moved in with Mrs. McCall and rumor had it she was going through the process of fully adopting him. Boyd and Erica safely returned to Derek from their stint in the Argent basement. Derek was surprisingly apologetic about some of his training exercises and working on being a more supportive alpha. Last he saw of Lydia and Jackson, they were heavily making out in the school parking lot, leaning up against his Porsche. Jackson’s eyes had a faint glow about them as he struggled with control of his newly acquired wolfish tendencies. Stiles didn't know where Peter had gone off to, but he could only assume and hope the Zombie wolf was under his alpha’s control and no longer a threat. But, no one needed him, so Stiles spent the last couple of weeks of school relatively alone. Scott had invited him to the movies for the premier of the latest Marvel movie this Friday, but that was two weeks ago and he hasn't answered the phone since.
Stiles spent the majority of his time researching. What are lasting effects from the kanima, what is a ‘spark’, how long does it take for a bruised rib to heal, true love conquers all, really?, healing and poison potential of wolfsbane. Basically, a little bit of everything. His thirst for knowledge truly was never ending. However, he was going to lose his mind if he spent another day with no one to talk to.
His dad had a lot to deal with now that the station was severely understaffed after the kanima and Matt fiasco. The sheriff’s time off was so limited, he was lucky to have time to eat and sleep, let alone spend time with his delinquent of a son who had more connections to the towns odd crimes than he would like to admit. There wasn't time for a proper conversation with his son, so he didn't notice the lack of Scott in his house. He didn't see the lonely look in his son's eyes.
After failing to make plans with Scott yet again, Stiles decided he needed a change of scenery. His bedroom walls were making him feel claustrophobic. The woods behind his house were too close to the Hale property, and he wasn't sure if Derek’s residence was still the abandoned train car or if he went back to haunting his old house, so to avoid awkwardly walking where he may not be wanted, Stiles opted to take his Jeep out of town to a campsite his family had frequented once upon a time when they were whole. His mother had loved the nature trails, especially this time of year when the butterflies and bird sightings would be plentiful.
It was nice to get some fresh air and visit the park he once played in. They had a small jungle gym that was great for attempting pull ups. Might as well try and bulk up for lacrosse season, coach would probably notice...might get him off the bench. He spent the whole day mapping the trails in his head as they intertwined within each other. He practiced finding north and managed to get lost only a few times. He did trip an absurdly higher number of times, and ended up with a few new bruises and a tear in his jeans, but overall, he counted the nature break as a win and promised himself to do it again soon. The day was peaceful.
It was on his way back into town just as the sun was setting and Stiles was planning on what to do with the chicken breast he had put in the fridge to thaw, that he saw it. A suspicious lump on the side of the road. He considered driving on, make it someone else's problem. But, this area was pretty remote, he had to pull over. Half a year of supernatural shenanigans taught Stiles to exit the Jeep with caution. He gripped his phone in one hand and reached for his pilfered baseball bat he kept in the back seat. Thank you, Mrs. McCall. As typical luck would have it, the lump turned out to be a body. A fairly young woman, maybe college aged. Stiles didn't recognize her. Obvious ligature marks on the neck, but her neck was, oddly, also slashed. Further inspection revealed a head wound as well. Stiles contemplated if that was possible from landing here on a rock or curb but he didn't see any blood on the rock-free ground. The only blood was on the victim’s shirt which was stained red because of the shallow neck wound. Then it hit him. He is staring at a dead body. A bloody, dead body. The wave of nausea was overwhelming. Quickly taking a seat on the side of the road, he pulled out his phone and concentrated on keeping his breathing steady. He stared at his phone screen, hand hovering over Scott’s name. He quickly scrolled up and hit ‘Dad’ instead.
“Son, I'm bu-” his dad answered.
“Dad! Oh thank gods you picked up, I need your help! I…there’s a body… I’m on 98th close to Oak Street” Stiles rushed out over his dad’s voice. He was nervous, his mind racing with possibilities.
“What? Son, are you sure? Calm down. Okay tell me again, tell me what's going on.” The Sheriff replied with an air of forced calm gained from years on the force.
Stiles explained how he had gone hiking at the old camp grounds and found the body. He repeated his location. His father sent a local patrol car out their immediately. They arrived before he had even hung up. Stiles found himself repeating his day to the newly appointed officer, Deputy Parrish. He was a good looking young man, and was quick to notice the lack of blood on the ground and head wound. “Another one”, the deputy had muttered under his breath. He took Stiles’ official statement as they waited for his father to arrive, giving away no more information and refusing to answer his questions. Stiles’ father was not forthcoming with information either. He seemed equal parts worried and angry. But, aside from hearing Stiles’ story for a 5th time, he didn't have much to say in front of his son
“Why. Why did you have to be the one to find the body? At a crime scene, again!” The sheriff whisper-yelled at his son as soon as they headed to the Jeep. Stiles was oddly quiet. His father insisted on driving, an officer could bring his patrol car into the station.
Stiles was in a bit of shock and by the time he and his father had finally made it home, it was past midnight. He went to his room without dinner, or a word of goodnight to his stressed out dad, his mind spinning with the evening's events, and appetite long gone. His dad’s parting words were a request that he stay out of this one and let the professionals handle it.
Stiles dialed Scott's number for the 10th time that night as he stumbled into bed.
***
It was well past noon the following day, when Stiles woke to his bed vibrating. It took him a second to realize that his phone was ringing. He grabbed the device and saw that Scott was finally calling him back.
“Bro, finally, I've called you like five times! What was so urgent that you blew up my phone last night? I was at Allison’s!” Scott complained.
It took Stiles a good minute to process the events of last night. “Morning Scott,” he mumbled. He ran through the gist of the situation. He made sure to tell Scott his suspicions about this not being the first victim. “I'm not saying we should go out in the woods looking for more bodies, ‘cause, well you know how that turned out, but I think we should mention this to his holy alphaness. Have you apologized yet for totally using him?” Stiles finished up.
“What!? No! And, yes. Lydia found a body near the pool on the other side of town. It was really random. But, she called Jackson who called Derek, and Derek informed the pack but he didn't think it was anything related to us. I told Allison too, she said it's definitely not the Hunters MO. I kinda thought Lydia or your dad would have told you.” Scott stated.
Stiles tried to wrap his head around all the new tidbits of information he gleaned from that one statement. “Wait, you said the pack, so did you, like, accept Derek as your alpha?” He asked. “But, you didn't apologize! Dumbass! And why would Lydia tell me anything?” Stiles’ mind was spinning. “More importantly, when did she find the body? Two’s a coincidence…”
“Three days ago. Derek and I are cool, I guess. I go to his pack dinners and training, he even lets me bring Allison. It's only fair because Jackson brings Lydia.”
Stiles insides were cracking a bit at that, was he missing out on these gatherings? Had he not proved himself valuable? Trustworthy at least, since he helped free Boyd and Erica after the hunters dropped him off at the school? He went right back to his captors’ house and unlocked them. The trio then picked up Lydia and met at the warehouse. Well, he literally drove into it so Lydia could profess her love. After everything had calmed down, the betas sauntered up to Derek while Scott apologized to Allison (Why? He wasn't actually sure). But, Stiles was there. He was helpful. He knows it, so why would the pack meet without him? When he tuned back into the call, he realized he missed most of what Scott was saying. “…so, I'm glad I have you on the phone, because pack dinners are on Friday night, and I was going to see if we could do the movie on Sunday instead.” Scott trailed off.
“Oh!” Was all Stiles could manage. “Yeah, sure.” He wanted to ask if Derek noticed he wasn't there. If the injured betas had asked how he was doing. Why would Scott think Lydia was on such good talking terms with him. But the questions remained unasked as bile raised in his throat. His stomach betrayed him with a loud rumble, which gave Scott the opportunity to suggest he wake up and go eat lunch.
“Ah, Scott!” Stiles quickly interjected. “How are Erica and Boyd? They never came back to school. I haven't seen them since, you know…” Stiles trailed off thinking about that night.
“Oh, they’re good. They’re over a lot because of Isaac, the three of them are usually at Derek's if they aren't over here. Boyd has never played Mario Kart before, can you believe it!” Scott asked, obviously clueless to his best friends twinge of jealousy.
“What time, Scott? What time should I pick you up on Sunday? You know Saturday is the day after Friday, right?” Was all Stiles could manage. He was angry. He felt left out, it might be irrational. He wasn't sure. And he didn't have a clear idea on what he should do now. “Oh, and don't forget to tell Derek about the second body, just in case.”
“I have a double date with Allison, Lydia, and Jackson on Saturday. Sorry bud. How about 1-ish, we can maybe get matinee prices?” Scott asked. “And, it’s the 3rd body. My mom said there was a girl found a few days before Lydia’s discovery. Same cause of death. Strangled and head wound with the throat cut.” He added nonchalantly. “She was a little torn up about it, because she was our age. Mom came home demanding hugs from me and Isaac.”
“Oh gods Scott, who? Is it someone we go to school with?” Stiles asked, jealousy flaring a little at the mention of Isaac getting a hug over him from his pseudo mom.
“No, no, I asked, her name was Heather, she went to the prep school across town,” Scott replied. “I'll see you Sunday, I have to go, lunchtime, eat something.” Stiles could hear Isaac telling Scott to hurry.
“Later dude.” Stiles muttered into the already dead line. Heather, he knew a Heather. His mom’s best friend’s daughter was named Heather. She had been a staple presence in his toddler years. They had drifted apart after his mom’s death, but he still had her number. He gave it a call; it was disconnected. Surely his father would have told him if something had happened to his childhood friend, right?
***
After making himself a sandwich, Stiles decided to make one for his dad too. He could drop by the station and inquire on the bodies; ask about Heather.
It turned out the station was still understaffed and very busy. A reporter was waiting patiently for an interview with his father, but Stiles brushed past and entered the office without knocking. His father was less than pleased to see him.
“I've brought lunch!” Stiles held up the brown bag as a shield and proceeded to enter. His father’s desk had a lot of paperwork piled up on it, but the two take-out cartons from the local diner were easily visible.
“Although it seems you don't need it,” Stiles continued. “I hope that contained a salad, dad!”
“Stiles, go home! I don't want you poking into this thing. You’re too connected.” The sheriff started.
“Dad, Scott told me about a Heather, a Heather who is our age and went to the prep school. Dad, tell me it's not…” Stiles pleaded, his large eyes tearing up at the thought.
“Stiles, you need to leave!”
“Dad, was it…”
“Go home!”
“Dad!”
“Yes! Okay, yes it was, I asked her parents not to involve you because you have been too involved with the mysterious crime sprees over the past couple of months. You need to leave this alone.” His father replied looking dejected.
“What! Dad, no, it's Heather!” Stiles stammered. His father sighed and gave his son a much needed hug. The shock of contact felt electrifying. When was the last time someone had touched him? Hugged him? Stiles wasn't sure. “When…when is her funeral?” Stiles muttered into his father’s chest.
“Sunday.”
***
Stiles hung up after receiving Scott's voicemail for the fifth time that evening. He felt so alone. He just needed a friend. He decided a quick text to cancel on Sunday would do, and headed up to his room. His window was open. He definitely didn't leave it open, because it's summer, and the air is on. Everything looked to be in place, but the eerie feeling of being watched loomed over him, so he shut his window. He did a quick check on the rest of the house to make sure nothing was out of place, grabbed his father’s whiskey, packed up his Jeep with a sleeping bag and change of clothes, and decided to head back out to the campgrounds for the night. His dad wasn't going to be home anyways. He had enjoyed it out there yesterday, and he really just needed to clear his head and drown his sorrows.
It took him a little longer to get there, because he went the long way around, but Stiles made it before the sun set. You have to pay at a station to use the campsites, but seeing as Stiles didn't have a need for electricity, he opted to take one of the paths to fairly a secluded clearing. He turned his phone off and cracked open the bottle of Jack. His last coherent thought was how beautiful the stars looked out here.
***
Stiles woke to the sounds of birds chirping and a soft mewling from his right.