MELISSA (FORNAX) THIS IS FOR YOU! IT GOT TOO LONG TO FIT IN YOUR ASK BOX.
SORRY ALYCIA :I
Stiles skidded in the wet leaves as he ran through the forest, but caught himself and kept going. He could hear Scott stumbling behind him, which, you’d think his BFF would be less clumsy after all the lacrosse training they do (even if they are benched damnit).
There’s some noise up ahead, that’s not a good thing, right? That can’t be a good thing. Stiles tries to slow down and ends up skidding again, slamming into a tree. Seriously, ow, but at least he’s got something to hide behind.
“Hey!” he tries to hiss a warning, but the leaves are too wet to slow down and Scott goes tumbling into the clearing.
“Scott.” Oh shit. Stiles knows that voice, it’s his dad!
“H-hey there, Mr Stilinski.”
Totally failing to play it cool. Ugh.
“Where’s your partner in crime?”
“Who, Stiles?” Scott says innocently. “He stayed at home, wanted to get rested up for the first day of school tomorrow.”
“Oh, really? So what are you doing here then?” Stiles can totally picture the look on his dad’s face, that half exasperated and half disappointed sheriff expression that’s supposed to guilt you into admitting everything. Too bad Scott and Stiles have seen that look so many times, they became immune to it by the time they were twelve.
“I, uh, dropped my inhaler somewhere around here, I’ve been trying to find it. Those things cost, like, eighty bucks!”
Dad Stilinski doesn’t much sound like he’s buying it, but he’s dragging Scott off, probably to stick him a patrol car and send him home. Which totally means Stiles has to book it the hell out of here before they find his car.
Luckily, the other cops and state troopers or whatever move on a direction that is not a Stiles’ direction. He heads off the other way, moving slowly and quietly until he can’t hear the sounds of the search party before he starts to run for it.
Damn, it’s dark. Where’d he put his flashlight?
Stiles is patting down his pockets when he hears it. A deep, visceral growl.