coffee breath | D.H

3.18

"shit," sillie whispered, her hand over her mouth.

"how bad? stiles, how bad is it?"

there was a small moment of silence.

"hey, stiles, are you there? can you hear me?"

"ah, there's some kind of smell down here. something smells terrible. it's brutal. my eyes are watering."

"ok, listen, i'm gonna call sils and your dad-"

"no, no, no, no, don't. no, scott, don't," stiles pleaded.

"but they-"

"don't. just please don't call my dad. promise you won't. he already worries about me too much, so does sillie. scott, please."

"but what if i can't find you? stiles, i can't make a promise like that. and i have to tell sillie, you know i do, stiles."

"no, no, no, just please. you can call sils, fine, just not my dad. and don't call her unless you have to, please. she's- she's already worried enough, she has enough shit to deal with, i can't- i can't add to it. please, scott, please. he doesn't have to know; you can find me."

"i don't know if i can do this. i need sillie to help at least." scott's breathing picked up.

stiles sniffled. "oh, i gotta call you back. i have to turn the phone off."

"what? no, hey, wait-" 

"i'm gonna call you right back."

he hung up.

sillie took a deep breath.

"there's one more," scott informed. he played the last one.

"hey, stiles."

"did you call him? did you call my dad?" he whispered. "what about sillie?"

"no, i didn't call him, i'm gonna call sillie and she'll probably get isaac. we're coming to find you. can you figure out where you are? try to find something and tell us where to look."

"it's a basement. i think- i think i'm in some kind of basement."

"in a house?"

"no. it looks bigger. like industrial. i think there's a furnace. but it's cold. it's freezing down here."

"it's the coldest night of the year tonight," sillie muttered.

"i gotta turn the... i gotta turn the phone off, scott. it's going to die."

"wait, wait, wait. what else is there? what do you see?"

"the phone's dying. i can't talk. i have to go." he whispered the last part. "please..."

"stiles, why are you whispering?"

"...because i think there's someone here with me..."

sillie exhaled, the call ending. "ok... ok, we need to find him. we need to find him right now, and we're telling my dad, i don't care."

"ok, um, i think you should see this though." lydia turned to stiles' bed, where there was a pair of scissors stabbed into the mattress with red yarn attached, leading onto different parts of his crime board.

"he uses red for-" lydia started.

"unsolved cases," sillie muttered. "green's solved, yellow's to be determined, and blue's pretty."