Chapter 2
Stiles parked down the street from Lydia's house. The only reason he got invited to her party was because he was technically on the lacrosse team. The house was crowded from wall to wall with people. He wandered around until he happened across Stacy and Danny. They were in intense conversation about the new additions to the team. Danny was really intrigued and glazy-eyed about Brett. Stiles had never heard him talk so much about a guy. Stiles hadn't hung out with Danny this much ever. Danny was Jackson's best friend, which perfectly explained why. Jackson was a jerk.
Scott had wandered out by the pool with Allison. Danny dispersed after seeing Brett arrive. Brett didn't come alone either. Erica and Boyd were here with him. The two split off once Danny and Brett started talking. It seemed like they did not want to be wing-men to their flirting. Stiles wandered around the house a little, sipping from his cup. No alcohol. He was driving.
The night was going surprisingly well. Better than last year when he'd knocked over the keg. Thank god everyone forgot about it. Stiles leaned against the wall of the staircase. Stacy and him were still hanging out and talking about their summers when Scott came barreling through, holding his stomach. His face etched with pain. Stiles caught him as he started to fall.
"Hey, you okay Scott?" Stiles asked.
Scott groaned, and Stiles thought he heard a low growl too. Scott pushed him away hard and crawled to the doorway. Several people laughed, thinking he was drunk. Stiles on the other hand could tell that this wasn't alcohol. He hurried after him, not noticing Erica's eyes on him, her golden yellow eyes.
Boyd came to her side, carrying Brett on one side with his arm around his waist and Brett's around his neck. The three of them disappeared without attracting attention.
"Scott!" Stiles called out as he came to a halt in the front yard. Scott was gone.
"Scott?" The voice was small and timid.
Stiles spun around. Allison stood on the front steps, staring about worriedly with her arms hugged tightly around herself.
"Hey," Stiles said. "Uh, don't worry. He's always…weird around girls and stuff."
Stiles frowned. He could've come up with something better but had nothing because Scott had never run off due to a girl, and he was also never around girls. Stiles called Melissa-Scott's mom-to see if she'd heard from him. She said she didn't, but was now officially worried and tasked him with finding Scott. Stiles called the only other person who might know Scott's whereabouts, though the odds were slim.
Stiles's Jeep swung into the parking lot of the animal clinic-Scott's place of work. It was the only other place he could think of. The office lights were still on. He tried the door, which was stupid since it was past closing. No surprise, it was locked. He pounded on the glass.
"Deaton!" he called. "Hey, are you in there? Have you seen Scott? Deaton!"
A dark figure poked out the door into the dark hallway past the front desk. It came forward, revealing itself to be the veterinarian, Deaton. He unlocked the door.
"Stiles, what are you doing here?" Deaton asked.
"Have you seen Scott? He was at a party and then left. He looked like he was in pain. That or on the verge of a serious puke-fest. Do you know where he could've gone?" The words left Stiles's mouth in one breath.
Deaton's head turned slightly as he tried to think. He shook his head just as bewildered as Stiles.
"I'm sorry. No," he replied. "If I hear from him I'll be sure to call."
Stiles sighed. Mumbling a thanks, he turned and got back in the Jeep and left. Stiles drove all over town well into the wee hours of the morning and still never found Scott. He tried to get the Sheriff, also known as father, to put out an APB, but he refused, saying that he was probably home and passed out in bed already. Stiles eventually fell asleep at his desk.
When he woke up on Sunday morning the keyboard was imprinted on his cheek. He rubbed his groggy eyes and glanced at the time on his computer. It was early. He pulled out his cell phone and called Scott. The line picked up on the second ring.
"Hello?" Scott's voice was gravelly hoarse.
"Hey!" Stiles exclaimed. "Dude! Where were you!? I've been losing my freaking mind. Allison was worried too."
"Uhh, Ummm, sorry. I was just-Just sick." Scott replied.
"You looked a little more than sick," Stiles said.
"Stiles!" Scott exclaimed angrily. "I'm fine!"
"Fine!" Stiles exclaimed with equal rage and then hung up.
He didn't see Scott for the rest of day and that was fine. He was already behind on homework.
Scott didn't talk about Saturday at all and Stiles didn't ask. Scott was perfectly fine again. At lunch, Allison came over ant sat with Scott. The two ensued in idle chit-chat while Stiles was more consumed with the fact that Lydia tagged along and now sat diagonally across from him. Danny sat on his other side. Stiles smiled and received an estranged look from the fellow lacrosse player. He turned his gaze back on Lydia. His eyes pooled with a daydreamy gaze.
Scott went to work after school with Stiles following. Scott deemed it unnecessary, but Stiles was reluctant after his runaway over the weekend. Maybe it was overprotective, but the sudden illness was strange and he wasn't giving it up just yet. Their small bits of bickering stopped quickly and Scott gave him a question filled look. Stiles was just as intrigued as he was.
The Sheriff was there talking with the vet when they arrived. Stiles earned a look from his father. He just shrugged and lingered by the front counter. There, he could hear bits and pieces of the conversation between his father and Deaton.
"They're talking about the two bodies they found over the weekend," Scott said, having caught the strained look on Stiles's face. "Your dad suspects an animal attack."
Stiles nodded and then shot him a look of alarm. How could he hear them? Stiles could barely make anything out. From here, their conversation sounded like whispers. Before he could ask, his dad was coming toward them with Deaton in tow.
"Boys," he greeted.
"I see you found Scott," Deaton commented with a friendly smile.
Stiles nodded. Sheriff Stilinski pulled Stiles out the door by the arm. A look of frustration and confusion pressed across his tired features. This job was an exhausting one, but Stiles knew that nobody else could do it better even though he threw himself into the job even more after the loss of his wife-Stiles's mother. Stiles didn't blame him. It was hard on both of them. She was a great woman.
"What are you doing here?" the Sheriff asked.
"I was giving Scott a ride." Not the best lie, but whatever worked.
"Really? His bicycle was broken?"
"It's called being a good friend." Stiles fired out.
Sheriff Stilinski shook his head and sighed.
"Go home. Do your homework. Be a normal kid."
"Let's be honest. I'm not," Stiles said. "Normal, I mean. But you know that. You can't ask impossible and improbable things of me."
The Sherriff rubbed the spot above his nose. Stiles grinned childishly. It was moments like these that he knew he was pressing buttons. They weren't the buttons that got you grounded, but the ones in which he'd probably get swatted.
"So there was an animal attack? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Let's see…" Sheriff Stilinski started. "You're not a fellow police officer, and you were out doing the teenager thing and going to a party when I specifically said not to."
Stiles's face blanked. Oh shit. He let out a nervous laugh and bit his tongue.
"I wasn't at a party." He shook his head.
"Oh really? You want to go there?" The Sheriff challenged him a raised eyebrow.
"Well, it wasn't a party. It was a very large…study group."
"Did this study group have alcohol? And, was the host a certain redhead?"
Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and then let out a whistle. Lydia's hair was actually strawberry blonde, but close enough.
"Would it help my case at all if I said that I didn't drink...like at all?" Stiles squinted hopefully.
The sheriff snorted and mumbled incoherently.
"Only my kid."
He walked past him and to his SUV. Stiles let out a breath of relief. No swatting. Good.
"Hey, Dad?" Stiles called after him. The sheriff turned with the open car door in his hand. "The animal attack was on Saturday? You're sure?"
"That's when we got the call. The coroner said it was around midnight."
Stiles turned. Through the front window of the animal clinic, Scott and Deaton were talking at the front desk. Scott left the party close to eleven-thirty. Stiles didn't ask him about it. If it was related, Scott wouldn't hold out on him. He was his best friend. He trusted him.
