A/C: OKAY, so this is my first Teen Wolf fanfiction so bear with me. I absolutely love this show and I'm really excited to share this with you all. Takes place right before the end of "Frenemy". Enjoy!
Scott and Stiles stood outside the police station, Scott pacing and Stiles hyperventilating. They just got back from the woods where it was clear Jackson transformed into the Kanima, again, and went on his merry lizard way to paralyze more people and slash more chests. There were no other options left. As much as they dreaded the thought, they needed to warn people.
"I just don't know," said Stiles, as he held the back of his neck as if he had some type of migraine. "I have a slight feeling my Dad isn't going to take this well… You know, werewolves, giant lizards, that whole business."
He had enough pressure lately when it game to his father. Ever since he was a kid he always wondered whether his Dad would come home in one piece. Beacon Hills was a safe area (or so he thought at the time), but he had an active imagination. Then when his Mom died his Dad did crumble, in a different way. He barely had enough time to put himself together, but here he was dealing with werewolves, kanimas, hunters and madness.
"Look, you said it yourself… people are going to get hurt and we can't protect everyone," Scott urged. As much as he preferred to handle this by himself, he felt it was right to let the Sheriff in on what was actually going on.
"Well I don't want my Dad out there either! The whole department versus Jackson wouldn't exactly be a fair fight… more like Rocky and that Russian guy." Stiles responded with a hint of fear behind his weak joke. He couldn't lose his father, he wouldn't.
Stiles knew that Scott was originally more apprehensive than he was about the whole informing humans thing. This whole thing could go two ways and neither of them was very appealing. If he didn't tell his Dad he would avoid possibly being thrown in the loony bin, but his Dad would still be out there unprepared and vulnerable after a so called "mountain lion". On the other hand, he could tell his Dad. Then it would take a whole lot of convincing. That would not be fun. But then his Dad would eventually come to terms with the craziness and be more careful and informed. There was clear danger in both situations, but he preferred the latter. He needed to protect his father. He was the only one he had left… that was human at least.
"Stiles…" Scott started as he gave him one of is I know what you're thinking because I can hear your heartbeat and you show everything on your face looks.
"Fine! Fine, we'll tell them. And hopefully we won't be committed," Stiles sighed exasperated.
Now he had to physically motivate to move inside. His stomach was in knots. It felt like the butterflies he got when they were announcing first line in lacrosse. But these were more like moths from Silence of the Lambs.
Scott couldn't help but let out a dry laugh before gently grabbing his friend's arm to head up the steps of the station. Stiles was honestly surprised Scott was being so… supportive. The last few months he felt like he was invisible most of the time. It seemed like the only time anyone ever paid attention to him is when they needed something. He knew Scott had a lot on his plate, more than any other teenager he knew, but he was still his best friend. The thing that irritated him the most was Scott's primal obsession with Allison. Sure, she was the "love of his life", but Stiles had been there since they were in middle school. Hell, he was always there whenever Scott needed anything. But that's just the kind of person he was. The way he was acting made him feel like he didn't actually mean that much to his friend.
Letting out a sigh, he nodded and followed his friend. Inside there were a bunch of people running around as usual. The kanima or… mountain lion business was putting the station over the edge with mass phone calls, coping with the media and of course the people who were affected by the attacks. The whole thing made him feel out of control. The only thing he could do to help his father was to hide the bottles of whisky he kept in stock. He just hoped things might eventually go back to normal, or something close to it.
The security personnel recognized the two boys as they made their way through the lobby. The man gave them a strange look as if he knew something they didn't. Stiles was starting to feel a bit anxious. The other cops around giving them the same look didn't help either. He looked at Scott and he shrugged.
They were just approaching the office when they saw him through the glass windows: Jackson. Stiles was very close to having a full-blown panic attack. Not only had Jackson broken out of the truck and went off in kanima form, but now he was here to give a sob story. This was bad. Very bad.
"Scott… what are we looking at?" Stiles managed to get out as his pulse continued to rise.
"Uhm, I guess he's okay… and we're screwed," Scott replied with the same fear in his voice.
Through the glass, Jackson looked up at them, wearing the sheriff's jacket, and gave a conniving smirk. He won this time. But the thing was they were only trying to protect him and everyone else from himself. Stiles fear was slowly transforming into anger and disgust. What the hell were they supposed to do with him? Now they had no chance of explaining anything.
He could also see his father's glaring eyes looking him down. The anger was superficial, but he knew deep down he was truly disappointed in his son. Lately he caused him nothing but trouble and now this of all things. All they could do was walk in.
"We were wondering when you would show your faces," a condescending voice said from behind the sheriff's desk. He wore an expensive suit and had one of those faces that just screamed pretentious douche bag. Stiles assumed he was Jackson's lawyer.
Looking at his father he could see the pure exasperation on his face. They were now in a huge mess, a mess they didn't need.
"Boys, this is Mr. Whittemore… Jackson's father," his Dad introduced with a voice coated in frustration.
Stiles and Scott automatically looked at each other. This was serious. This was really really seriously serious. Both of them knew that nothing good would come out of this confrontation.
"Yes, the father of the boy you kidnapped this afternoon," Mr. Whittemore uttered in disdain.
It was then that Stiles noticed two other men in the room. One of them looked like another sheriff while the other was just a routine officer. Maybe the crime counted in another county? He knew it wasn't likely, but it was a much better thought than the other possibility.
"You both committed a federal offense… as well as stealing an official police vehicle," his father began with agony in his eyes. Stiles only recognized this tone when he was addressing common criminals.
"Okay first off we were so going to give it back. And… we did it for Jackson, not to hurt him," Stiles blurted out. Confusion seemed to settle over the room.
"How could you say you kidnapped my son for him?" Mr. Whittemore blasted as he moved to his son and grasped his shoulder firmly. "You tied him up and practically left him there to rot."
Stiles was stumped for once. There was absolutely no way he could bring up the supernatural aspect of the whole thing. Even though he was the brighter of the two, he turned to Scott with a plea for help in explaining.
"Uh… well, why don't you tell them, Jackson?" Scott spurted out.
Stiles would have face palmed in any other situation. Oh yeah, Jackson was definitely going to tell the whole tragic story of him unwillingly becoming a giant fucking lizard against his will.
"Excuse me? You mean tell them how you put me in that prison van and shackled me like some dog? Like I told the officers, I wouldn't be surprised if you were planning on killing me."
It felt like someone punched Stiles in the gut. Kidnapping was one thing… well, a very bad thing, but attempted murder was a whole new level. His jaw was literally dropping as he looked at Scott in shock. The most disturbing part was that his Dad looked like he was about to break.
The officers in the corner stepped out.
"Since your father," he addressed Stiles, "holds too much of a bias with this case we're going to have to take you and your friend over to our station in Ferndale."
"W-what are you talking about?" Scott asked with his voice teetering on a crack.
The other sheriff sighed. "We're gonna have to take you both in on account of kidnapping… we're not sure about the attempted murder yet, that will take longer."
"What?!" Stiles yelled at the man. "We didn't do anything to hurt anyone… Dad?"
But his Dad only looked at him with teary eyes and then back down to his desk.
"Mr. Whittemore, Jackson… I think it would be best for you to go outside," he muttered.
Jackson and his father left but not before Stiles noticed a little flash in Jackson's eyes. It was similar to the glaze that occurred when he was the kanima. Was this what this was? Was someone making him say these things? These things didn't matter now. He and Scott were facing prison time.
"Take us where?" Stiles managed to get out over the panic attack that was rising through him ready to combust in moments.
"First the station for the night. The trial won't be for a while so the county will arrange transportation to a juvenile facility," the other officer explained with little emotion.
For the first time in his life Stiles was left speechless. This was the worst thing they had ever gotten into. It was the kind of thing that could ruin their entire lives. He already knew his father's career would be completely trashed and it was entirely his fault.
Scott looked like he was going to cry for a moment before he clenched his fists and straightened up.
"Can I call my Mom?" he asked quietly.
"When we get back to the station," the sheriff answered. It looked as if he wanted to get things rolling. And they did.
The boys were read their rights and led to the back in handcuffs to a police car. Stiles wasn't even able to hug his Dad before they left. All he saw was his stunned expression and the emptiness that filled his eyes.
They both slid into the back of the car and took off into the dark night of Beacon Hills. Stiles closed his eyes and forcefully wished that this day had never happened.