BASED ON THE PINTREST PROMPT "This is a nice change of scenery." "It's a prison cell." "I was being sarcastic!"
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Scott should've known at this point not to follow Stiles to crime scenes in the middle of the night that the human had heard his father discussing.
The first time, they went to go find half a dead body in the woods, and it resulted in him becoming a werewolf, which turned out to be amazing, but the next few times did not go well.
From following a armored car and getting into a minor wreck, leaving both of them taking three weeks to heal, to the werewolf getting shot and almost dying while they were tracking down a murderer, it was almost routine at this point for Stiles to beg him to come look into a crime scene, and this night was no different.
Scott was restringing his lacrosse stick when the text came that read.
'Scott. Meet me outside in the Jeep. I got details on the case.'
The case Stiles was referring to was one Scott had taken particular interest in involved private property, and the Beacon Hills police couldn't get a warrant to investigate, but the town where it had taken place, Flare Valley, could, and they did not have a good track record so everyone had assumed it was just an animal attack.
Scott put his lacrosse stick up before throwing a hoodie over his shirtless torso, then went outside and climbed into the passenger seat of the blue jeep.
"What did you find out?" He asked, buckling his seatbelt while Stiles was already driving away from the McCall residence.
"Two things. One, the autopsy came back yesterday, and the body showed markings made by both an animal and a human."
"A werewolf?" Scott questioned, raising a eyebrow in confusion.
"Something of that nature with a grudge. I'm not discrediting anything." Stiles insisted, before continuing. "Also, the owner of the property was in a boating accident on the lake two miles from the cabin. He'll be in the hospital for at least a week."
"What does that have to do with the case?" Scott looked at the road sign they just passed, before yanking on the wheel, trying to turn around.
"What the hell, Scott!?" Stiles demanded, jerking the wheel away from him and getting back in his lane.
"We are not sneaking onto someone's property while they are in the hospital! Or at all!"
"Do you trust me?" Stiles asked, taking his eyes off the road for a split second to look Scott in the eyes.
"No, I don't!"
"I think you do...after all, you got in my car."
Scott was gonna protest, but then he realized he did indeed trust Stiles in that spur of the moment decision, and so, he leaned back into his seat, dreading all the possibilities of what could come out of this.
•••••••••••••••••••••
A hour later, the two teens made it to the cabin complex that was almost completely closed off with yellow police tape. Stiles responded to that by slinging his backpack over his shoulder and holding a finger over his mouth, insisting for Scott to be quiet.
The older teen stepped over the police tape, then turned on his flashlight, looking for the cabin.
"What number cabin is it?" Scott whispered, stepping over the wet leaves and branches carefully.
"You're not gonna believe it, but it's cabin 13." Stiles found the cabin, and pulled on a rubber glove to turn the handle. "Don't wanna ruin the evidence."
The cabin was surprisingly unlocked, and the two teens went inside. Stiles pulled out a head lamp from his backpack and turned it on before handing Scott the flashlight. "Be quiet, and don't step on anything that looks like evidence."
Scott clicked on the flashlight, shining it at the wooden floor and started walking towards the bedroom, where the murders took place.
Meanwhile, Stiles continued to search the main room to see if the killer had left evidence that the Flare Valley police couldn't find after he murdered the family.
However, they couldn't have been there for fifteen minutes when sirens started approaching the cabin, and fast.
"Damn it." Stiles hissed under his breath before yelling. "Scott?! We gotta go!"
Scott ran out of the master bedroom, and Stiles went to grab the back doorknob to help them escape when he heard the door slam open and a gun click.
"Put your hands where I can see them and turn around slowly, both of you." The female officer insisted, and the two teens did as they were told.
She came towards them, gun still fixed on them as she forced Stiles to take off his backpack and brought the two teens outside, only being illuminated by the moon in the sky and flashlights. She took the backpack away from Stiles and handed it to another officer, as well as the keys to the jeep. "Whatever you say can and will be used against you. You have the right to remain silent. Feet apart and outstretched arms, I need to search you both for any weapons or evidence."
The two teens did as they were told as they were patted down and a third officer went through their phones.
"We found something!" A officer yelled, and everyone quieted before Stiles felt metal click against his wrists, and they put him the cruiser.
At first, the older teen was slightly relieved at the fact Scott wasn't being booked as well, but soon enough, he was brought in closely behind, and Stiles groaned before the female officer came inside.
"My Dad is gonna kill me."
"My Mom is gonna kill me first."
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After the police had taken their mugshots and fingerprints, the two teens were placed inside a cell, with the chief of Flare Valley explaining that their parents had both been contacted and they were gonna be there till they came.
Scott sat down on the bench, putting his head in his hands before looking over at Stiles, who was tapping his foot at a rapid pace on the floor.
"Stiles." Scott questioned softly. "You okay?"
He shook his head rapidly before insisting. "I think my Adderal wore off. But this is a nice change of scenery."
"It's a prison cell."
Stiles rolled his eyes before hissing. "I was being sarcastic."
Suddenly an hour, give or take, to be picked up by his worried and angry mother was gonna feel a whole lot longer to Scott.
Stiles was really having issues focusing at this point, and he just noticed he had been biting the inside of his mouth, something he only did when he was really nervous. His reasoning for this being his Dad was not gonna be happy with him poking into a different town's murder case and listening in on his phone calls again.
"-iles." He was broken out of his train of thought by Scott. "You okay?"
He looked down at his rapidly tapping foot and felt the taste of blood touch his tongue, so he shook his head, and explained that his medication had worn off. Then he started looking around the room, trying to take everything in, but his brain wasn't processing it except in a blurring blob.
That, plus the fear that his Dad was gonna be crazy mad was enough to scare him terribly, which triggered him sweating, trembling, and unable to breathe well. Or a panic attack.
Scott looked over at his now ghostly pale friend, seeing him grasp against his chest. Having known Stiles over ten years, he knew exactly what this was.
He helped him sit on the floor and knelt down beside him, placing one hand on his back while holding his shaking, sweaty hand with the other.
"Stiles, deep breaths. Remember?" Scott tried to get through to Stiles, who was often in his own world during panic attacks, and hard to get through too. "Stiles, we're gonna do this together. Ready?"
Stiles whimper in response, and Scott placed Stiles' hand on his steady beating heart.
"Breathe in through your nose." Scott insisted, taking a deep breath, and smiling slightly at the fact he got through to his best friend. "And breathe out through your nose." He let out the breath, and Stiles did the same while starting to tremble less. "Good. Again, alright?"
After having his best friend breathe deeply for a couple more minutes, Stiles' panic attack finally ended, and as anticipated, it had taken a lot out of him.
"T-thanks, Scott." Stiles insisted, standing up slowly and sitting himself back down on the bench, Scott holding his hands behind him so he didn't fall over.
"You're welcome. Now just relax. My Mom and your Dad should be here soon."
Stiles nodded, leaning his head against the cold, hard wall, and surprisingly, drifted off slightly, leaving the werewolf alone with his thoughts.
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Both Scott and Stiles were startled by the cell door unlocking and Melissa standing at the entrance with crossed arms and a frown on her face.
"Alright, McCall." The officer insisted, and Scott hurried out before practically being drug to the car by his ear by his Mom.
He got in the car, closing the door, and his Mom pulled out of the Flare Valley Police station office before glaring at Scott.
"Want to explain why the hell I had to leave my shift early to get you out of a police station an hour away, Scott Michael McCall?"
"Stiles texted me and said he had evidence on a murder case. I didn't think he was taking me to the scene of the crime cause this police station doesn't do a great job." He wanted to subtly add a "and doesn't know about the supernatural" in there, but he knew that would just freak out his Mom even more, especially since she was in the dark about it.
"Look, you can't keep doing this, Scott. The dead body, the armored car chase, and the gunshot wound from an murderer you just recovered from, it's getting worse every single time. I don't want the next call I get about this to be from a hospital, or from a morgue. And if that means I have to make you switch schools and no longer let you talk to Stiles, then I will do that."
"It won't happen again, Mom. I swear."
"I know you aren't good at keeping promises, young man." The nurse told him, before adding. "But I trust you. Don't break it again."
"Thank you, Mom." Scott smiled gratefully, almost rejoicing on the inside.
"Don't think this means you aren't in trouble."
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"So when can I have my jeep back?" Stiles groaned with his head rested against his Dad's cruiser the next morning, glancing out the window of the back seat, basically being treated like a criminal at this point.
"When I trust you not to go through my stuff and snoop in my files." He responded, pulling in the parking lot of the school.
"So two weeks then?" Stiles tried, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
"Nice try." His dad smiled, unlocking the door, but motioning for him to come to the rolled down window. "But seriously. Are you sure you wanna go today? You haven't had a panic attack in awhile, and I can get you a appointment with a therapist or something if you need it."
"I'll be fine, Pops." Stiles insisted, waving his Dad goodbye, watching him drive to work before going inside where he was immediately shoulder checked by Jackson, who had Lydia on his other arm yet again.
Whether that was because he knew what took place the weekend before, or just cause he hated Stiles, he had no idea. So the teen didn't take it to heart.
"Stiles!"
That angry yell, however, could only come from one angered teenager...who just so happened to be a werewolf on the side.
"Hey, Scotty."
Scott got in his face, pointing a finger at the truly terrified teenager. "Don't "hey, Scotty" me! My Mom was ready to pack up and move cause of you, and I'm just starting to figure everything out!"
"You're acting like I'm not in trouble at all either! Yeah, it was technically my fault, but my Dad wants to put me back in therapy cause of that frickin panic attack I had! So I'm not exactly living the dream either."
Scott sighed, calming down before looking back at his best friend. "Sorry. I'm just stressed out and I'm so glad our past lacrosse game is coming up."
"Unless we win." Stiles suggested, which had the younger one chuckle, slinging his arm around him.
"What's the chance of us winning?"
"Not a lot. But don't tell Jackson."
Scott chuckled, walking towards class with Stiles behind him. "I won't."
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