Stiles and I walk into his room and I place my bag on his bed as Stiles sits in his desk chair. "Hey, Stiles!" we hear his Dad call. "Yo, D-Derek" Stiles trails off nervously. I turn to look over and see Derek hiding behind the open door and my eyes widen. Derek motions for us to be quiet, motioning for Stiles to go talk to his Dad.
Stiles quickly rushes out, closing the door behind him as he talks his Dad. "When'd you get here?" I whisper out. Derek just shrugs and I shake my head. After Stiles is done talking to his Dad, Stiles walks back in, shutting his door, only to be slammed against it by Derek.
I gasp in shock. "If you say one word-" Derek starts threatening. "Oh, what, you mean, like, 'Hey, Dad, Derek Hale's in my room...bring your gun'?" Derek falters at that and Stiles nods. "Yeah, that's right. If I'm harboring your fugitive ass, it's my house, my rules, buddy." Stiles hits him in the chest. Derek slowly nods, straightening out Stiles' jacket and Stiles laughs slightly.
Stiles does the same to him, moving to walk past him. Derek makes a move towards him, though, trying to scare him and Stiles jumps. "Oh, my God!" He exclaims. Derek then turns to look at me, giving me a look as well. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don't say a word or you'll eat me alive" I wave it off as Stiles sits back in his desk chair.
"Scott didn't get the necklace?" Derek wonders. "No. He's still working on it. But there's something else we can try" Stiles explains. Derek looks at him expectantly. "Look, the night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison, asking her to meet him there" Stiles says. "So?" Derek asks confused. "So it wasn't Scott." Stiles informs him.
"Well, can you find out who sent it?" Derek asks. "No, not me. But someone's best friend can" Stiles sends a smirk over at me. "If you're talking about what I think you're talking about, Stilinski, he doesn't like to mention that" I tell him. "This is our only chance, Alex. Come on. Please?" He begs. I glance at Derek who was giving me a look and gulp nervously. "Sure, yeah" I quickly nod, pulling out my phone.
~~~
"You want me to do what?" Danny asks incredulously. "Trace a text." Stiles tells him. "I came here to do lab work." He looks over at me and I smile sheepishly. "That's what lab partners do." Danny adds. "And you two will, once you trace the text" Stiles nods. "And what makes you think I know how?" Danny scoffs.
"I-I looked up your arrest report, so..." Stiles trails off sheepishly. "I-I was 13. They dropped the charges." Danny defends himself. "I tried telling him you didn't want to bring it up" I tell Danny and he rolls his eyes. "Whatever." Stiles holds his hands up in surrender. "No, Alex, we're doing lab work. And not here" Danny tells me.
"But my house is too far and so is yours. Can't we just do it here and Stiles can work with us and just give his partner the answers?" I whine. Danny looks between us before sighing. "Fine" He says and I fist bump victoriously as we both pull up a chair to sit at Stiles' desk.
As we start working, Stiles types something on his computer as Danny glances back. He leans in closer to us. "Who's he again?" He asks curiously, motioning towards Derek. Stiles and I quickly look at each other before glancing back at Derek. "Uh...my cousin....Miguel" Stiles makes up. "Martínez" I add and Stiles nods. "Is that blood on his shirt?" Danny asks, looking back at Derek.
Stiles and I quickly turn back to look at Derek and sure enough, there was blood on his shirt. "Yeah. Yes. Well, he gets these horrible nosebleeds." Stiles explains. "Miguel" I call out and Derek looks up at the both of us with a glare. "Remember what we said about you and your nosebleeds? You have to change your shirt" I remind him, motioning towards Stiles' dresser. "Yeah, I thought I told you, you could borrow one of my shirts." Stiles nods.
Derek shuts the book he was reading, scowling at the both of us. He throws it on the bed, moving towards Stiles' dresser and taking off his shirt. "So, anyway, I mean we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably-" Stiles starts saying but I could tell Danny's attention was on something else instead. Or should I say, someone else.
"Uh, Stiles?" Stiles and I both turn to look at Derek. "Yes?" Stiles asks in frustration. He holds up a shirt. "This...no fit." Derek says through gritted teeth. "Then try something else on." Stiles tells him. "You okay there, buddy?" I ask Danny with a smirk who just looks away awkwardly. Stiles seems to realize what I'm implying and looks between the two in realization.
Danny notices Stiles' look and quickly looks away again as I try to hold in my laughter. Stiles turns back to look at Derek who was putting on a blue and orange striped shirt. "Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think, Danny?" Stiles motions to Derek. "Huh?" Danny asks, trying to avoid looking at Derek. "Miguel's new shirt. How's it looking?" I ask, pointing over at Derek with a smirk.
Derek just stares at the both of us, looking seriously pissed. I didn't care what he was gonna do to me later though because this...this was very amusing. Danny looks back at Derek. "It's-it's not really his color" Danny admits uncomfortably and Derek takes his shirt off again. "You swing for a different team, but you still play ball, don't you, Danny boy?" Stiles smirks. "You're a horrible person" Danny mutters before looking at me.
"And stop enjoying this. I'm seriously going to kill you" He tells me, hitting my shoulder. "I have no idea what you're talking about" I shrug innocently. "Anyway, about that text." Stiles tries to say again. "Stiles!" Derek snaps. We all turn back to look at him as he holds up yet another shirt, still shirtless. "None of these fit." He complains. Stiles and I turn to look at Danny who was checking out Derek once again.
"I'll need the ISP number, and the exact time of the text" Danny sighs in defeat, typing in Stiles' computer and Stiles and I high five in success. We let Danny do his thing while Derek finally finds a new shirt. "There. The text was sent from a computer. This one" Danny says, pointing at it.
"Registered to that account name?" Derek asks. "No, no, no, no. That can't be right." Stiles denies. "Something real messed up is going on here" I sigh as we see it came from a hospital computer registered under Melissa McCall. Scott's Mom.
~~~
"Did you get the picture?" Scott asks into the phone as Stiles, Derek and I sit in Stiles' jeep. "Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing" Stiles says. Derek grabs his hand, bringing the phone closer to him as Stiles starts yelping in pain. "Hey, is there something on the back of it? There's gotta be something. An inscription, an opening, something." Derek describes.
"No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you two? You're supposed to be here. You're both first line and you're starting Alex" Scott brings up and I sigh as Stiles and I glance at each other. We both knew we weren't gonna make it to the game anyways.
"Guys, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start" Scott adds after a minute. "We know. Look, if you see my Dad, can you tell him- tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little late, okay? All right, thanks" Stiles hangs up as Derek turns to look at us. "You're not gonna make it." He informs us. "We're aware of that, thank you" I sigh. "And you didn't tell him about his Mom, either" Derek brings up.
"Not till we find out the truth" Stiles says as we sit outside the long term care hospital. The one Derek took Scott and I to a couple weeks ago where I found out my family burned his alive. "By the way, one more thing." Derek suddenly says. "Yeah" Stiles nods. Derek grabs the back of his head, slamming it into his steering wheel as he groans in pain.
Derek turns to look back at me, punching me in the shoulder with his werewolf strength. "Ah, fuck!" I exclaim in pain. That was gonna be sore tomorrow. "What the hell was-" Stiles say, holding his head in pain. "You two know what that was for. Go. Go!" Derek tells us. "Ugh. Asshole" I mumble under my breath, holding my shoulder in pain as Stiles and I both climb out.
We walk around the hospital, looking for Melissa while Stiles talks on the phone with Derek. "Yeah, I said we can't find her" Stiles nods, putting it on speaker so we could both listen in. "Look, ask for Jennifer. She's been looking after my uncle." Derek tells us. We walk into Peter's room and see no sign of Peter anywhere. "Yeah, well, he's not here either" Stiles informs him.
"What?" Derek asks confused. "He's gone. Disappeared. Maybe in testing or something" I shrug. It's silent for a moment before we hear him talking again, this time sounding more urgent. "You two, get out of there right now-it's him! He's the Alpha! Get out!" Derek yells. "Aw, you actually care about me? That's so sweet" I say into the phone.
"Just get out of there!" He yells. Stiles grabs my arm and goes to pull me out of the hospital but we both pause as we see Derek's uncle stood there, a smile on his face. "You must be Stiles and Alex" he comments. Stiles and I give each other wide-eyed looks. Okay, we were so dead. Stiles and I both turn to run out, only to be stopped as Peter's nurse stands behind us.
"What are you doing here? Visiting hours are over" She tells us. "Oh, I knew you were a bitch to begin with!" I exclaim. "You...and him" Stiles points back and forth between them. "You're-" He looks at Peter before turning back to look at the nurse. "You're the one who-" "Stiles, words please." I beg. "Oh, my God, we're gonna die" Stiles panics. "Thank you. Shit, we're gonna die" I panic as well.
Derek suddenly appears, elbowing the nurse in the face. "That's not nice. She's my nurse" Peter tuts. "She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people. Get out of the way" Derek tells Stiles and I. "You don't gotta tell me twice" I scoff, pulling Stiles along with me to hide behind the front desk as Peter and Derek start fighting. "This took a turn" I yell over the fighting and Stiles nods his head. "It's more exciting than the game would have been though, I do have to admit. And that's saying something, coming from me" I scoff.