"Are you sure about this?" Scott asked, watching Ana glare at Dean from the other side of the one way mirror.

Derek stood next to him, observing the other room closely. "Yeah, why?"

"Don't you think it's a bit soon after those other hunters?" Scott asked, glancing sideways to the other alpha.

Derek waited to respond. The hunter's body language was open and cocky, clearly believing he was in control. Ana appeared irritated, but quite eager to let the hunter think what he wanted to think. "No. She can handle this."

"I still don't think this is a good situation for her."

Derek didn't take his eyes off the scene in the other room. "You know none of the others would keep calm like that. Look at him, he's deliberately instigating everyone who goes in. Even Lydia snapped at him."

"I hate to admit it, but Derek's right," Chris said, entering the room.

"Any word on who these guys are?" Scott asked.

"Deputy Parrish is still processing the prints of the first guy, but I may have an idea," the hunter said. "How's she doing?" The concern in Chris's voice surprised Derek, but he continued to focus on the room.

"She's not falling for the trap," Derek said with a slight smile.

"She may not be, but flail-wolf is going right to town," Chris pointed out, nodding to the other one way mirror. Scott turned and groaned at what he saw; Stiles leaning forward, eagerly talking to a bewildered hunter. Derek turned and rolled his eyes at the sight of his boyfriend gesturing wildly in the other holding room.

"You want to know something?" Dean asked.

"Please don't enlighten me," Ana replied.

"You're not very good at questioning or interrogation," Dean continued with a smirk.

"Who said I was trying?"

Dean's smirk wavered, "why else would I be in a police station holding room?"

"To be questioned."

"Exactly so why-"

"Do you want to know something? You talk far too much for someone in your situation," Ana put down her pen and looked at Dean like he was an annoying two year old asking 'why' after everything. Dean grinned, finally getting somewhere.

"And what situation is that? What am I dealing with exactly? Why are a bunch of monsters pretending to be kids holding us up in a police station?"

"You don't know why you're here or what you're after. You don't know and you're fishing, poorly, for answers. You're hoping to annoy me or make me angry enough to slip up," Ana stood up and crossed the room with a deceptively blank expression. "Calling me a monster doesn't make me one."

Dean gaped. She called him out, she'd known this whole time what he'd been trying to do. He was being duped, again, by this girl. "So, you caught me."

"Literally, yes. Now, I'm giving you one more chance to wait patiently, quietly."

"Or what, kid?"

"Or," she leaned in close, whispering into his ear, "I ask you what kind of monster you are. You reek like a corpse. Underneath your human scent you stink of graves and decay." Dean's eyes went wide and his stomach dropped.

Deputy Parrish opened the door, ink pad in hand, and found an unexpected sight. Ana was sitting at the small desk he'd brought in for her earlier, frowning at her calculus homework. What surprised him was that the other suspect's mouth was duct taped and he was humming obnoxiously.

"Ana?"

"Hm?"

"Care to explain?"

"Oh. He wouldn't shut up." The deputy gave her an incredulous look. "I gave him plenty of warnings."

Parrish shook his head and went over to get fingerprints. "You must be a very trying man, she doesn't lose patience easily." Finished, he turned to Ana. "Shouldn't be much longer. Chris has a theory and the Sheriff is almost done, too."

"So why a silver shell?" Stiles asked, leaning forward, eyes narrowing.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed and he leaned back instinctively, trying to figure out what to say. "You don't know what he is?"

"He's a bit of a dick and has some real confidence issues, but still," Stiles shrugged, "why silver?"

Sam went out on a limb, let his voice drop. "He's a werewolf."

"Duh, yes, well established. Why silver though, I mean, that's a bit archaic and outdated? What were you hoping to accomplish?" Stiles said, tapping the table with one hand.

"You… know he's a werewolf? Then you know he's dangerous, he could hurt or kill people," Sam said, staring the kid down.

"That hasn't been a problem for over a year." Stiles waved a hand dismissively. "Stop avoiding my question."

"Why should I answer to a kid?"

Stiles glanced to the one way mirror and when he responded his voice was barely a whisper, "because I'm you're only shot getting out of here alive. They've got you're brother. So if you want the two of you to walk outta here, you answer whatever questions I ask."

Sam's jaw clenched. He was hoping Dean had escaped, but judging by the earnest tone of the kid, Sam felt he wasn't lying. "So, you were running through the woods after a werewolf and shooting silver, why?"

Sam took a deep breath. He felt like he had no other choice so he shuffled in his seat as well as he could and watched the kid. "We were following a string of weird animal maulings up the Californian coast." Stiles nodded, his face grave. "The last death was about 50 miles south of here, and we were following the trail north. We almost caught him in Wells Spring, but he got away. We pulled over because we had a flat tire-"

"Lie."

Sam blinked, startled by the blatant accusation. "What?"

"That last bit is a lie. Don't even try lying," Stiles reclined in the chair and folded his arms across his chest, fading a bit out of the light directly above them. "Why did you pull over at the edge of Beacon Hills?"

Sam went quiet, feeling too late that he'd stumbled into a trap. His mind worked quickly, trying not to miss a beat. "It's Sam, right? That's what your brother called you. I'm not gonna ask again. Why did you pull over when you guys got to Beacon Hills?" Sam didn't move. "Someone tipped you off, didn't they?" Sam swallowed, careful to keep his face even. How was this kid getting this?

"That's what I thought. So you have two choices, Sam. You either tell me who or what tipped you off about Beacons Hills and what they said, or I leave this room and what happens next is out of my hands. And don't try lying. You may be good at it but not good enough." Sam's heart jumped when he saw a flash of gold eyes. "So what's it gonna be, amateur hunter?"

If anyone is curious about the bit where Ana tells Dean he smells like a corpse, it's based on a bit of head-cannon. When Dean dies and goes to Hell and is brought back by Castiel, I feel like that would leave a permanent, physical imprint on him. Humans aren't meant to come back, but Dean and Sam keep getting second chances. Ana doesn't know why he smells that way underneath a normal human scent, but she's very suspicious and guesses correctly that letting Dean know he's not a normal human will mess with him. You can read it how you like, but I struggled with how to express this within the story itself, because I'm trying to stick with a limited 3rd person Winchester-based POV.

I wanted to show how Ana and Stiles differed in their techniques. Ana was told to keep watch while the rest of the pack finds out who the hunters are, not to question Dean. Stiles is told the same, but really when is Stiles ever able to sit quietly and wait? Both are able to extract information from the hunters, but in different ways. Ana catches on that this isn't Dean's first rodeo and understands he's trying to provoke her into blurting out something he can use against them later. Stiles though, realizes he can get Sam to talk by playing good cop initially, because Stiles isn't all that intimidating.