--Hi! I DO NOT own these characters! Just the story! This is my first official fanfiction, though the others I have hoarded away somewhere will most likely make an appearance in the hopefully somewhat near future! I hope you don't hate this!--
P.S -- I'm only marking the change in P.O.V when it changes to a specific person, not for every change in seine. -- ;)
Chapter One
Sheriff Stilinski was not having a good day.
Stiles was out late again last night, and once again, was lying about where he'd been.
At first, it would only happen every once in a while, and at first he'd thought his boy had been sneaking out to go to party's, but then, he'd started coming home with bruises.
At first, he ignored it. Stiles had always been a clumsy kid, so seeing a bruise on him every now and then had always been fairly normal.
But then he found blood on one of his shirts...
But any time he asked about it, Stiles would either lie, or would somehow turn the conversation to something else so subtly that he wouldn't even realize what his son had done until hours later.
Noah was planning on finally sitting down with his son once he was home, since by some miracle, he had the day off.
Or at least...he was supposed too.
Instead, he findes himself sitting on his couch, surrounded by the parents of a few of his sons supposed "friends," along with Melissa McCall, Scott's mother, and all of them claimed that their kids had been missing since the night before.
All of the supposedly missing teens had left their cell phones, and the last person all of them had called, was Stiles.
And of corse, to top off all the rest of his problems, the Whittmores were trying to blame the whole thing on Stiles.
"Do you even know where your son is Sheriff?," David Martin, (Lydias father according to Stiles) asked with an arched brow that just screamed I'm-so-far-above-you-all-I-shouldn't-have-to-be-here. "School has been over for four hours! How can you say it isn't him if you don't even know where he is!"
Noah was just about to jump to the defense of his son, (and by the looks of it Mrs.McCall too) when they all heard the unmistakable sound of said teens old blue Jeep pulling up into the driveway.
Everyone went quiet.
They all heard the door unlock, but before Noah or any of the other adults could say anything, Stiles started grumbling to himself.
"Of corse, they just had to go without me! The one person who looked into it, but noooooooo, Stiles is too breakable, so let's not even tell him we're le-" Stiles stopped mid sentence.
And all the adults were now glaring at Mr.Whittmore, who just had to scoff.
Stiles was not amused.
He'd spent almost all week trying to help Derek and the Pack figure out what the towns newest Big Bad was, along with keeping up with schoolwork, helping Scott keep up with his, and trying to keep an eye on his dads diet.
And finally, after far too much coffee and/or energy drinks and way too little sleep to even be considered close to healthy, he finally managed to learn that their new monster (or monsters) were a group of rough Ash Sprites. And Stiles, of corse told them what he'd found.
That was a mistake.
Stiles was unfortunately unable to give them a full rundown on their new pest problem, due to Scott and Jackson getting into another fight.
But apparently Scott somehow managed to convince Erica, Isaac, Jackson and Boyd to just go ahead and get rid of the problem.
That, was yesterday morning.
And Stiles had been woken up sometime after 3am by a certain Sourwolf and his uncle Creeperwolf about needing to help find the now missing Betas, who somehow managed to convince Lydia and Allison to join them.
Absolutely wonderful.
So by the time Stiles Finally, pulled into the front of his house, it was nearly 10pm and he felt like collapsing onto the nearest soft object and sleeping for a week.
Unfortunately, that really wasn't in the cards for him tonight seeing as Peter had found some symbols carved into some of the trees around the Preserve, and had asked if Stiles could look into it while he and Derek kept looking.
He quickly agreed, and now found himself somewhat quietly grumbling to himself, when he suddenly heard what sounded like a muffled scoff, and froze.
He gripped his bat that he'd covered in Mountain Ash and Mistletoe firmly as he carefully slowed his movements.
"Hello?," He called with a frown. "Guys? I swear if any or all of you are waiting for me in the living room I am going to strangle the first person I get my hands on!"
It was still silent.
"No offense to Allison, but I'm starting to worry that this is another "silver" situation, and I may be a very strong willed person, but I really don't wanna go through that whole thing again." He huffed.
But when he finally turned into the living room, he pauses when he sees his dad...along with everyone else's parents.
Shoot.
(Stiles P.O.V)
I quickly lowered the bat and smacked my head onto the nearest wall, (internally screaming at myself while also giving myself a very, very, small mental Pat on the back for not saying anything about the supernatural or the Ash Sprites) then turned my gaze back to the concerned adults who were now all staring at me.
"Hello parents of...everyone...what're you doing here?" I said, doing my best to plaster on a hopefully convincing smile.
And from the looks on everyone's faces...it was an unsuccessful attempt.
"Son, your friends parents came to me today because it seems your friends are missing. And you happen to be the last person all of them called." Dad said with a frown.
That admission froze all the words on my tong.
"Me?" I asked softly.
"Yes, Stiles. Scott, Erica, Lydia, Jackson and Vernon all called you. And their families would like to know why."
"Oh. Well that's not good. That is...very not good, ok, uh...Melissa, can I see Scott's phone?" I asked, my brain was already flying across every possible scenario.
"Why do you think I'd have it now?" She asked with an arched brow, and I quickly shot her a disappointed look.
"Uh, you all came here 'cause your kids are missing, and all of them call the same person just before they seemingly drop off the face of the earth, and you're telling me, you wouldn't bring said phone that they left at home for no foreseeable reason, just in case that one friend, who every single one of the missing teens called, who has yet to be confirmed as also missing, at home just, on their bed or something?" I asked incredulously.
Melissa huffed and shook her head fondly, reaching into her bag and handing me Scott's somewhat new, yet also very beat up phone.
I quickly snatched it away, unlocking it without a second thought. I ignored the adults staring as I looked through the call records for the past two days, and saw that the last call was indeed made to me, but it had been made at 11:03 pm. I made sure to check my own phone to see if I'd gotten any of the messages and was just so far out of it that I hadn't noticed, (which has happened before, just ask Derek.) since I'd just spent pretty much this entire week trying to dig up whatever I could on those stupid little Ash Sprites!
"Ok then, Mr. and Mrs. other people's parents, could you please tell me when you found your son and/or daughters phones?" I murmured absently.
"Stiles, do you know what's going on here?" Dad asked. He did his best to hide his worried tone, but he could never really hide something like that from me, and guilt sank in my gut. But for now I'd have to do my best to ignore.
Thankfully, the parents gave me a rough timeline of when they found the phones, where they found them, and when they realized their kids were gone, which was of corse, all sometime past 11:03pm.
Great.
"But why would the All call me?" I huffed, scrubbing my hand roughly across my face.
"Maybe because you're their friend?" Dad sighed.
The other adults were watching us carefully, and it was starting to make me twitchy.
"No, 'cause I was off limits for the next 48 hours, if they needed help then they should've called Derek, or maybe even Peter! But nobody would ever really call Peter unless it was some kind of last ditch effort, and even then maybe not unless you're me, so yeah, why didn't any of them call Derek?" I rambled mostly to myself, and sighed in annoyance.
I am so gonna kill Scott. Or at the very least, whoever is unfortunate enough to be standing near me.
And of corse, when I finally looked back to the group of adults sitting in my living room who were now looking at me in varying stages of concern.
When Stiles had mentioned being "off limits," for the next 48 hours, all of the adults were understandably confused.
Especially when he'd gone on to talk about two others, who were apparently named Derek and Peter, and had gone on to say that he was really the only who would ever really call Peter if he was in need of help.
And with the way he'd said it, he made it sound like this was something that happened a lot more than any of them might know about.
They almost asked him if he was just saying things to try and cover for his friends, but then they actually looked at the young man.
His hair, that he'd finally grown out from the old buzz cut he'd had at the start of high school, was messy and sticking out in all directions, almost like he'd roled out of bed and barely had time to even run a comb through it, and his already pail skin was even paler than what should be healthy, and the dark rings under his eyes were very noticeable, and the teen was visibly worried for their missing children.
And now they knew Stiles did not, in fact, have a hand in their children's disappearances,and all they could do at the moment was wait for the Sheriff to find some sort of lead.
Which also meant that they were all practically bursting with Concerned-Parent-Energy, and unfortunately for Stiles, he made an easy target.
"Kid, why were you "off limits," for...48 hours?" Henry Reys (Erica's dad) asked slowly as Stiles finally looked up from his rant.
"Ok, first, don't call me kid, I'm not one. And second, what? Why are we suddenly on this?" He asked incredulously.
"Stiles, a few minutes ago you said something about having some kind of system set up with our children that would leave you "off limits" to any type of phone call or text, even in the case of an emergency." Alex Whittmore stated firmly, causing Stiles to wince, which of corse concerned them all the more.
"Oh, well, it's just, we've all learned I'm a pretty bad workaholic, and I might be pretty sleep deprived on a good day, and this hasn't exactly been a very "good day," let alone a good week, for that matter, and if literally any of them call me, and let's be honest, if they're calling me, they're asking for my help with something, even if they don't exactly say it, and when that inevitably happens, I will "forgo any type of self inconvenience," as Lydia likes to put it. But yeah, don't have time for this right now...I need my laptop." The teen rushed out, though the last part was mumbled more to himself.
"Stiles," Noah starts slowly. "If your friends have something like this set up, and it was in action when they went missing this morning, then just how sleep deprived are you?"
Stiles, on his part, hardly paused as his fingers flew across the keyboard of his laptop that he'd placed on the coffee table, eyes darting around the screen in an attempt to take in as much information as he could.
"Enough to function." He muttered absently. Which did not curb any of the worried adults rapidly rising concern in the slightest.
"Stiles! How many hours of sleep have you gotten this week?" Melissa asked firmly.
"Mrs.McCall, I am a teenage boy, and I've been trying to focas on my own schoolwork, along with helping some of the others with theirs, among other things, how on earth do you expect me to remember how many hours I've spent unconscious?" The teen huffed out, rolling his eyes.
Melissa pinned him with a look, that he tried very hard to ignore.
"You seemed to have a pretty good idea last time I asked you." She said with an arched brow.
"Yeah, well, you also drugged me the last time I answered that question so..."
This caused the other parents to give the nurse a startled look. Drugged?
"What on-wait, was this around the time you had your M.R.I ?" Sheriff Stilinki muttered.
None of them missed the way Stiles face twisted and his body almost seemed to shrink into itself at the mention of those terrifying few months.
Almost the whole town had heard about when Stiles had gone to the hospital.
The Sheriff had look so heartbroken, especially when they learned it could've been the same thing his wife had.
Stiles seemed like he was about to give an answer when he paused.
His hands froze on the keyboard as he looked up from the screen, looking into each of their faces with intention.
"Dad..." The teen started.
"Stiles?"
"You said - you said that all of the parents with missing teens were here..." The whiskey eyed teen muttered slowly.
The seven adults looked at each other, all clearly confused.
"Yes. Everyone called me and came here." Noah confirmed.
Stiles knew he had to bring attention to the fact that Allison and Isaac were also missing, especially since he realized that Chris wasn't here, which was a little concerning if he was being honest.
But he already had a pretty good idea to cover the Allison issue.
"Allison hasn't been answering her calls," He started slowly. "I'd been trying to call Scott, so he could let everyone know I was tapping out, but he wasn't picking up, which I wasn't all that worried about since that kinda stuff happens a lot, so I called Allison instead since she'd be able to at least let him know, 'cause let's be honest, Scotty's not really gonna pick up for sure unless it's her," he grumbled, rolling his eyes at least somewhat fondly. "But she didn't answer either. I didn't think much of it 'cause if Scott doesn't answer, meh, it happens. Allison though? She's usually the one to answer her phone out of the two, and I know the one of the only reasons she wouldn't answer would be if she was with Scott, which also explained why he wasn't answering, but..."
"Scott's missing." Finished Melissa.
