AN: This one's a bit longer, but definitely important! Hopefully we'll be getting to the really interesting stuff soon ;) enjoy!

The voices of chirping birds filled the air as Stiles and Scott trekked through the dense foliage that made up much of Beacon Campgrounds. More than once Stiles nearly smacked his face into a low-hanging branch or cluster of sticks and leaves. Once, his foot even caught on a root and he fell face first right into a stinging nettle plant. That was nearly ten minutes ago, and his nose still felt like it had about two dozen microscopic porcupine quills in it.

"This had better be worth it," Stiles muttered under his breath, not necessarily intending for Scott to hear it, but those trusty werewolf ears never missed a thing.

"No kidding," came Scott's voice. "Stiles, I thought you said this would only take an hour or two."

"Well, I didn't realize we'd be hiking through the not-so-kid-friendly version of the Hundred Acre Wood to get there. Seriously, I didn't realize so many mosquitos even existed." His pale arms were dotted with angry little red bumps that were getting itchier by the second. They'd been walking for nearly a half-hour now, and those little bloodsuckers were making quite the feast out of him. Of course, when he glanced over at his friend, Stiles noticed that Scott had barely a bite on him.

The teen couldn't help but scoff. What was so much more appetizing about a pasty one-hundred-forty-seven-pound pile of skin and bones over a muscular solid block of werewolf hunk?

"Hey, is that police tape I see?" Scott asked, his voice interrupting Stiles' inner rant. He followed his friend's gaze through the buzzing insects and past the thick bushes. Sure enough, there was that unmistakable bright yellow tape just visible up ahead.

"Nice eyes, Scotty." Stiles congratulated his friend with a slap to the back as he took the lead, navigating through the branches toward the tape. "Now for the easy part."

"The easy part being sneaking behind the police department's back in the middle of their investigation to inspect the location of a supposed werewolf attack all while trying not to get caught by your dad and about half a dozen other officers on the scene."

A hint of mischief gleamed in Stiles' eyes. "Yeah, exactly. C'mon, Scott, it'll be a piece of cake. All you gotta do is watch my back while I try to snap a few pictures of the body. Then we'll head back to the Jeep and review them, look for signs of werewolves or werecats or were… creatures?"

"Yeah? What happens if you get caught?" There Scott went with that raised eyebrow again – something he always did when questioning Stiles' less than foolproof plans. Stiles always loved the chance to prove himself and his plans, and put that eyebrow in its place.

"Easy." A smirk lit up the teen's face. "I won't get caught." He turned, trudging toward the tape once again, eager to set his plan into motion. "Besides, Scotty!" he called over his shoulder as he walked. "Why do you think I bring you along to these kinds of things?"

Stiles knew Scott well enough to know his friend was no doubt rolling his eyes and likely also shaking his head a little, but ultimately Scott would follow. It was all part of the routine by now. Stiles would drag his werewolf buddy across the county, getting the both of them into some pretty unique situations. Scott would roll his eyes and try to act like he was too mature to be getting into this kind of trouble, but Stiles knew that deep down, Scott enjoyed it just as much as he did. He didn't even bother to look over his shoulder to see if Scott was following. His friend had his back – well, most of the time he did.

As Stiles approached the tape, he let his eyes scout out the scene. What obstacles would he have to overcome to complete his goal? How many officers were nearby? How fast would he have to be? And the most important question of all: was his dad there?

From the looks of it, it seemed as though the police were mostly done with their investigation. Only two deputies remained behind by now, both of which were standing on the other side of the site sectioned off by the yellow tape. One was speaking into his radio, though Stiles couldn't quite make out what they were saying. It was times like this that having a werewolf best friend really came in handy.

When Scott finally caught up to him, Stiles gave him a questioning look whilst jerking a finger in the deputies' direction. Scott frowned and watched the duo closely. He was clearly focusing on their voices to try and pick up what was being said. That much was clear by his narrowed eyes and intense expression. Stiles always liked to tease him and say he looked like a constipated werewolf when he made that face. Just thinking about it brought a slight grin to his face.

Scott seemed to realize what was going through his mind because when he snapped out of his werewolf focus trance-thing, he met Stiles' gaze and muttered a whispered, "Shut up, man."

The grin on Stiles' face only grew wider. "What? I didn't even say anything!"

"You were about to."

"Alright, fine." He shook his head, though the smile still refused to fade. "It is true though."

Scott simply rolled his eyes, ignoring the comment. "They're calling in the cleanup crew, so if we want to get those pictures, we're going to have to act fast."

"Right." Stiles turned his attention back to the task at hand. The officers seemed pretty distracted for the moment. Hopefully they would remain that way long enough for him to get in, take the pictures, and get out.

He took a tentative step into the clearing – not that it was much of a clearing at all. It was more like a slightly less densely forested area than what they'd just trekked through, but still there was enough bushes and shrub to make it difficult to remain quiet. One nice thing about the foliage, though, was the fact that it made for some nice coverage for Stiles to hide behind. Maybe he'd just be able to pull this thing off.

After slipping past the yellow police tape, Stiles ducked behind a large bush. So far, so good. Even though his foot crunched up a leaf or a twig here and there as he walked, the chirping of birds and shuffling of other wild creatures in the forest around them did well to mask his movements.

Stiles cast a glance behind him to check on his friend. Scott gave him a thumbs up and nodded for him to continue. The deputies didn't suspect a thing. Of course, how would they? Stiles was the master, after all.

He smiled to himself as he continued through the plants and weeds. It couldn't be too far now. Bodies were normally toward the center of the police tape circle, and Stiles only had a few more yards to go before-

Oh, sweet mother of mercy. The stench. Stiles gagged as that ungodly smell hit him like a brick wall – the odor of death and rot. His stomach threatened to spill out his lunch right then and there.

And if Stiles thought the smell was bad, what his eyes beheld a moment later was far worse. The forest floor in front of him was stained red with blood. There were little chunks of red clots here and there that could only be one thing: human flesh. Stiles had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from puking at the sight. Maybe he was a little in over his head, but he couldn't turn back now. He was committed, and he had to get the pictures or all of this would be for nothing.

With his free hand, he managed to pull his phone out of his pocket and turn the camera on. He snapped a picture here and there, but couldn't bring himself to look too closely at what he was taking pictures of. He took a tense step further into the scene as well as this mess he'd gotten himself into. Instantly, he regretted it. There before him was the girl, her insides… well, her insides were not exactly her insides anymore. Everything was red. Little bits of unidentifiable human body parts were strewn about the scene, each piece with its own little puddle of blood to accompany it. The only thing about the girl that still looked human was her face and her dark brown hair which was matted with blood. Her body was torn to shreds, but those features remained intact.

Oddly enough, that was the part Stiles found the most disturbing. He couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from her hazel eyes. Even with how lifeless they looked, Stiles couldn't help feeling like she was staring right at him – or rather into him. Her pale lips, twisted in a horrified grimace, told the story of her brutal death and just how terrifying it had been for her. Stiles' stomach was doing somersaults by now, and he just barely managed to snap out of his daze and take a picture before he was doubled over and losing his lunch on the ground in front of him.

"Stiles," Scott's voice called in a sort of whisper-yell. "Stiles!" It was a little louder the second time.

Stiles wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his blue and green flannel shirt. He remained crouched over, not yet trusting his stomach to hold if he stood back up again. He cast a glance over his shoulder at his friend, eyes asking what he was yelling about. After being friends for so long, they really didn't need words to communicate.

Scott simply pointed in response, gesturing to something behind Stiles. Stiles turned his head to see a pair of department issued shoes now standing in front of him. His eyes traced the boots, looking from the toes to the laces, and soon to a pair of brown trousers and a tan button-down shirt. On the shirt there was a badge Stiles was all too familiar with – the Sheriff's badge.

Ah, crap.

Inwardly, Stiles groaned, but outwardly he just offered an innocent smile as he glanced up to meet his father's unamused gaze. "Hey, Daddyo. Fancy meeting you here."

"I could say the same thing to you," was the Sheriff's response as he grabbed his son by the arm and hoisted him to his feet. "Where's Scott?"

"Sco-Scott? Scott who?"

"Scott, your best friend and partner in crime." His dad was definitely not having his crap today.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Dad. It's just me. You know Scott. He's busy with school, and studying, and work." Per usual, Stiles attempted to get his friend out of the line of fire. There was no point in the both of them getting in trouble if they could avoid it.

Sheriff Stilinski just rolled his eyes before scanning the surrounding woods, no doubt searching for Stiles' friend. "I know you're out there, Scott! Why don't you come out and explain what this is all about before I'm forced to call your mother."

Stiles groaned. "I told you, Dad. He's not even-"

"Sorry, Sir," came Scott's voice before Stiles could even finish. The teen stepped out of the bushes where Stiles had left him and came to stand a few feet away from the Sheriff.

"Really, boys? I thought we were past this. You're almost adults now. You can't be sneaking into investigations like this anymore." Stiles' dad didn't even sound angry anymore. He sounded more tired than anything.

"We're really sorry, Mr. Stilinski," Scott apologized, yet again. "We heard there was an animal attack. We just wanted to see for ourselves if it was… well, you know."

"He means we wanted to see if a werewolf might've gone off the rails," Stiles clarified rather unhelpfully.

"I know what he means," the Sheriff snapped at his son. The next moment, he was sticking his finger in Stiles' face, just mere centimeters from touching his nose. "I'm talking to Scott. I don't want to hear a word out of you till I get home."

Stiles wrinkled his nose. He knew what that meant, and he certainly wasn't looking forward to another one of their long talks about how he needed to mature and stop sticking his nose into police business.

"We were just trying to help," Scott reasoned, but based on his dad's current mood, Stiles figured it was pretty safe to say they wouldn't be winning this argument.

"Didn't I tell you boys I'd call you if I thought I had a case that might concern you?"

Stiles snorted. "I don't know about you, but that bloodbath certainly looks concerning to me." A single warning glance from his dad, and Stiles was biting his lip. "Right. Shutting up now."

The Sheriff ignored his son's comment, and turned his attention back to Scott. "Look, as far as we can tell, this was just some wild animal. No claw marks on the body, no footprints aside from her own. And this girl wasn't just torn apart in some sort of werewolf fit. Something was after a meal. We aren't even sure at this point if it was an animal that killed her. She may have died some other way and her body been scavenged off of. You know how many coyotes we have out here. She was missing almost a whole day before she was found like this." He took a deep breath, then exhaled it as an exasperated sigh. "If anything turns up that I think you boys should know, I'll contact you. But until then, just let the police do their work, okay boys?"

Scott's eyes were doing that thing where he made himself look like a sad little puppy, and he mumbled a quiet, "Yes, sir."

The Sheriff then turned his eyes to Stiles, whose arm was starting to get a bit sore by now with how tightly his dad still gripped it. The teen met his dad's gaze and sighed, but finally muttered under his breath, "Yes, sir. We'll let the police handle this one."

He was so not letting the police handle this one.

Hmmm, what might Stiles get himself into? sometimes his curiosity gets the better of him. Let me know in the comments what you think is going to happen! I'm curious to see where you think this is going.