Saw some more views coming in, but I'd still like to hear from you guys to see what you think!
This is a little bit longer of a chapter, so bear with me! Enjoy chapter 10!
Scott's knuckle rapped against the wood door to the Stilinski home. Maybe if he could find a way to get Stiles back on the case, his friend would start to act like himself again. Otherwise, he'd really have his work cut out for him as he tried to help Stiles out of this rut.
A low creak emanated from the aged hinges as the door eased open, revealing Noah Stilinski in full Sheriff garb, khakis, badge, boots and all. "Scott." The Sheriff offered a friendly smile of greeting to his son's best friend. "I take it you're here for Stiles. He's upstairs in his room."
"Thank you, sir," Scott said to the man as he stepped through the doorway, eyes roaming to the stairs.
"Oh, and Scott." The Sheriff's hand shot out to grasp the young werewolf's upper arm, stopping him before he had the chance to take another step. "Can you do me a favor, son?"
Scott couldn't hide the concerned frown that crept into his expression. A favor? "Uh, sure. What do you need?"
"This might sound a little strange coming from the Sheriff, let alone Stiles' father, but..." Noah sucked in a deep breath between clenched teeth before meeting Scott's gaze with pleading eyes. "I need you to go and get my son into some trouble."
Scott's mouth dropped open, his expression a mixture of disbelief and confusion at what he was hearing. When did Stiles' father ever support his son's knack for getting into trouble? "Yes, sir...?"
The Sheriff's lips turned up in a sort of half-smile, though Scott swore he could sense anything but joy behind it. If Scott had to guess the emotion he sensed from his best friend's father, he had to say it was worry. Based on Stiles' recent behavior, Scott couldn't blame him. He did find some relief at least that he didn't seem to be the only one Stiles wasn't acting right around.
"Don't let Stiles know I told you this, Scott, but I'm worried about the kid," Noah admitted in a moment of vulnerability with the young werewolf. "Did you know it's been two days, and he hasn't asked me once about my ongoing cases?" The older gentleman shook his head. "He hasn't even mentioned the animal attacks he'd been obsessing over. I've tried to figure out what's going on with him, but you know Stiles. He won't talk to me about anything. Poor kid wants anything but to worry me but doesn't seem to realize that keeping stuff from me only makes me worry more."
Scott's heart ached for the man. It was only in recent years as he'd developed a better understanding of the world adults lived in that he'd truly begun to feel for what Noah had been through. The Sheriff wasn't a young man by any means, but his eyes still bore an age beyond his years. And today, he appeared especially weary, just as he always did when he worried over his son and questioned his capabilities as a parent.
"I don't know, Scott." Noah Stilinski shrugged helplessly. "You're his best friend. Maybe you can get through to him. I never thought I'd say it, but I just need that kid back to sticking his nose where it doesn't belong."
Scott couldn't disagree with that. "Yes, sir. You can count on me to get him off the straight and narrow." That was a sentence he certainly never expected to hear come out of his own mouth, but he was glad to see when it brought a genuine smile to the Sheriff's face.
Sheriff Stilinski's grip on Scott's arm loosened, then fell away altogether as the man turned to leave. "Oh, and Scott?" Noah met the teen's line of sight, a gentle yet warning glint in his eyes. "Make sure he doesn't end up in jail."
It was Scott's turn to smile this time. "Yes, sir," he said one final time before parting ways with Stiles' father to seek out Stiles himself.
Scott's feet padded up the stairs and weaved through the hallways of the second floor of the Stilinski home, coming to a halt only when he reached the door to Stiles' room. Closed, Scott noted as he approached. Since when did Stiles start shutting his room door?
Scott tapped the knuckle of his index finger against the door. "Stiles? You in there?"
"Uh, yeah," came the voice of Scott's friend from inside. A moment later, the door flew open to reveal the ever-disheveled Stiles Stilinski on the other side. He offered a cheeky grin and stepped aside to make room for Scott to enter. "It's good to see you, Scott! Glad you decided to stop by."
"Yeah." Scott's eyes roamed the room, noting how while not much had changed in terms of cleanliness, it looked as though Stiles had decided to start folding his piles of clothes rather than leaving them strewn about the floor. "I just wanted to check in on you. See how you were doing."
"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm fine, Scott," the brown-haired teen assured. "But, while you're here, what do you say we go over some notes from history class?"
Scott had to fight to keep his nose from wrinkling at the suggestion. In all the years he'd known Stiles, the teen had never once suggested homework as a pastime. "I don't know, Stiles. I was thinking we could go out today. I know there haven't been any more animal attacks, but I figured we could visit both of the attack sites and see if the police might've missed anything."
Even as he said it, Scott could see that Stiles wasn't a fan of the idea. His brow wrinkled, and his lips turned down in a frown. "Scott, you said so yourself that the police could handle it. They'll let us know if anything turns up. I thought you wanted to focus more on your school!"
"I know what I said." Scott groaned. He really hoped that Stiles wasn't acting like this in some sort of twisted attempt to make him happy. The young werewolf made his way to Stiles' desk to take a seat in the rolling chair. "It's just that-"
"Say, Scotty, I had an idea!" Stiles interrupted, shuffling to stand in front of the desk before Scott could sit down. Scott could've sworn he saw his friend snatch a piece of paper from the desk behind his back, but he couldn't be sure.
"Idea?" Scott asked absently, eyes wandering back to the other teen's.
Stiles grinned, wisps of wild brown hair bobbing up and down as he nodded. "A study group. You know, with you, me, maybe Lydia, Allison, and Isaac. We could get together here, at your house, or the Argents' to compare notes and prepare for upcoming tests. I get that studying isn't exactly the most fun activity in the world, but it's better with friends."
Scott could hardly believe his ears. Maybe this was all just one big, weird dream. At least then this would all make some kind of sense. "You? Want to form a study group?" Scott forced a small disbelieving smile for his friend's benefit. In reality, he wanted to take the kid by the shoulders and shake some sense - or in Stiles' case, non-sense - into him. "Stiles Stilinski of all people is making an effort at being responsible?"
Stiles offered a simple shrug of his shoulders in response. "I have to eventually, don't I?"
No, no you don't, Scott found himself muttering internally. This time, he couldn't stop a sigh from slipping out from between his lips. "Stiles." He couldn't keep pretending that he was okay with all of this. "I'm worried about you."
Scott observed his friend's expression abandon his happy-go-lucky winning smile to take on a more solemn and perplexed frown. "Worried? About me?"
"Well, yeah." Scott really hoped he could explain his concerns without alienating his friend. "You haven't been acting like yourself lately. You haven't even mentioned the animal attacks, you shut me down whenever I bring it up, and now you're trying to start a study group? Stiles, if there's something going on, you know you can talk to me, right?"
"I've never felt better," Stiles assured him. "I'm finally starting to listen to what you and everyone else have always wanted me to do. I'm growing up. I need to work on my extracurriculars and stop obsessing so much over things I can't do anything about. I thought you'd be happy for me."
Scott's heart twisted at Stiles' words. Maybe this confrontation had been a mistake. "I am, Stiles. If that's what this really is."
"Oh, then what else is it, Scott? Tell me." Whatever leftover docility Stiles had in his tone just moments before was abandoned altogether.
"I don't know," Scott said. It was a lie, and he knew Stiles would call him out on it if he didn't continue. "Are you sure you aren't just acting out from our argument the other day? I'm sorry if I said something to hurt you."
Stiles huffed, freckled face turning beet-red. "Why does everything have to be about you? Can't I for once just do something for me?"
"It's not like that-" Scott didn't even have a chance to finish before Stiles was once again interrupting.
"You know, it's funny, Scott. You're the werewolf, but I've always been the freak. I'm trying to act a little normal for once. Can't you at least try to be happy for me?"
Scott studied his friend as Stiles spoke, observing his eyes in hopes of seeing just how badly he'd hurt his friend. Stiles could put on a show like nobody else, but Scott had learned that his true feelings on a subject could always be seen in his eyes. But when Scott looked this time, he didn't see pain at all. All he saw was anger. It wasn't anger founded in pain; it was pure, unbridled anger. Scott was sure he'd never seen anything like it in Stiles before, and he never wanted to again.
"Okay," he said quietly, not wanting to pour any more gasoline onto the raging fire. "Sure, Stiles. You're my best friend. I'll back you up, no matter what."
That's it for chapter 10! Let me know what you think in the reviews. I'd love to hear from my readers to know if there's still interest in this fic. I have a lot of big plans for it's going to go! Hopefully next chapter we can check in on our dear Stiles and see what he's been up to.
