𝗧𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 ── 𝘚.𝘚𝘛𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘕𝘚𝘒𝘐

♡ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗙𝗢𝗨𝗥 ♡

♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 ♡
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘳

bring on the lies

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ON TUESDAY MORNING, DEREK HALE WAS ARRESTED FOR THE MURDER OF JANE DOE.

The woman had still not been identified and the police department had concluded that there was no need for a trial, - much to James Garcia's approval - and took the man into custody.

Stiles Stilinski snuck into the police car when it became unguarded, his best friend shaking his head in dismay as he did so. Once inside, he faced the werewolf that was behind the metal caging interior. "Just so you know, I'm not afraid of you." he took notice of Derek's stern look and stammered. "Okay, so maybe I am. Doesn't matter. I just wanna know something."

He readjusted his seating and leaned forward. "What did you mean when you told Scott to steer clear from the Garcias? Are they like, hunters or something?"

Derek didn't reply, keeping his cold expression as hard as stone. "Or are they werewolves.. like you?" he then trailed off. "And.. and why did you kill that girl? She could turn into a full wolf.. is that why?"

The Hale inhaled sharply. "Why are you so worried about me when it's your friend who's the problem?" he watched as Stiles leaned back. "When he shifts on the field, what do you think they're gonna do, huh? Just keep cheering him on?" he paused. "I can't stop him from playing, but you can.. and trust me, you want to."

As Stiles fell deep in thought, his father harshly yanked him from out of the car and ignored his son's false mumbles of pain.

"There. Stand." he stood before his son, watching as he sighed heavily. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Stiles lied smoothly. "I'm just tryna help."

Noah threw his hands in his pockets and nodded. "Uh-huh. Okay, well, how about you help me understand exactly how you came across this."

He let out another sigh and shook his head. "We were looking for Scott's inhaler."

"Which he dropped when?"

Stiles shrugged. "The other night."

Noah knitted his brows. "The other night when you were out here, looking for the first half of the body?"

"Yes." his son replied tiredly.

"The night that you told me you were alone and Scott was at home?"

"Yes!" he saw the disappointment on his father's face and panicked once he saw how he had fallen into his father's trap. "No! Oh, crap."

"So you lied to me?"

Stiles bounced in his sneakers. "If that's how you define lying."

Noah squinted his eyes at his son and huffed. "Well, I define it as not telling the truth. How do you define it?"