Chapter Text
Stiles sighed as he placed another Reese’s cup in his mouth. If someone had told him eighteen months ago, that actually, all his hard work and effort would end up with him sitting behind a desk during night duty, he would’ve become a mall cop instead. At least then he’d see more action. But no. Instead, as the youngest deputy in the town, he was forced to sit night after night behind the front desk, staring at the walls and waiting for something, anything exciting to happen. But it never did. He’d been here a year now and as of yet, not one member of the public had walked through that door after 9pm.
And he had another three weeks before he went back onto days. He only did one week of days out of every four since it was in his contract to do both. However, Jackie, who only graduated a year before him, could only work one week of nights of the four – something to do with childcare. Stiles had pointed out to his father, the Sheriff, numerous times that he had a cat that required more love and attention than he was currently getting. But even if he was in charge, his Dad told him that there was nothing he could do. Not until they got some new probies.
So there he was eating all the candy he could get his hands on and wondering if he could muster the energy to do another sudoku puzzle when the call came in.
A body had been found in the woods. An actual dead body. In the woods.
Stiles immediately flew into action, running into the back to wake up Frank and Jimmy, the only other two on duty that night, before running back out front to begin calling in the troops – including his Dad.
However, as Stiles began to actually realise that someone had died, that there might be a homicide investigation about to start, that this was exactly what he had trained for, his father shot him down. Apparently they needed someone to ‘man the fort’ and help coordinate things from there. Stiles tried to argue, tried to make his Dad see that he would be of better use out in the field, but it was no use. He was ordered tocontinue phoning everyone and informing them to meet at Hunter’s Peak where the body had been discovered.
Then Stiles waited. And waited. And waited some more.
It wasn’t until the sun started to rise and he realised his shift would be ending soon that the others came back. And they weren’t on their own.
In pairs, they dragged in what could only be described as Beacon Hills’ very own biker gang. But that was using the term very loosely. Only half of them actually drove let alone had bikes. They were just petty criminals who were occasionally violent when they had too much to drink. Stiles couldn’t help but wonder why they had all been brought in.
“What’s going on?” he asked when he spotted his Dad.
As the Sheriff stepped over to him, a small blonde in handcuffs whipped her head round to look at him, grinning ferally when she recognised him.
“Hey Stiles,” she said, flexing her body towards him, her rather impressive – even he couldn’t deny that – breasts almost bouncing out of her tiny top. “If I knew you’d look so good in uniform I would’ve come in sooner.”
Stiles did his best not to let his embarrassment show. “Thanks Erica,” he said, leaning back against his desk. “Wish I could repay the compliment, but –”
Erica scowled at him, but was dragged away before she could reply. She and Stiles had dated in their junior year. Back when things had been simple and he’d been so in love he didn’t think twice before giving her his virginity. Of course then she’d met Boyd, got involved in some not so legal activities and ended up in juvie. When she’d been released he made it clear he didn’t want anything to do with her – not to mention his father had forbidden it – as he still wanted to be a cop. That and he hadn’t been so much interested in girls anymore. She hadn’t taken it well and made the remainder of his high school career a living nightmare. The term ‘pencil dick’ still made him flinch.
“Stiles,” his Dad said as he approached the desk. “I need you to do me a favour and call these kids’ parents,” he told him as he pointed to a couple of very scared looking teenagers.
“They okay?” Stiles asked.
“They found the body,” the Sheriff explained. “She had gang colours on, hence all this.”
“You think it’s gang related?”
“Not really. But one of them has to know what she was doing out there.”
Stiles nodded and gestured over to the kids to join him behind the desk. They shuffled over and waited quietly as he called their parents to come and get them. It didn’t take that long. Both sets of parents burst through the door within seconds of each other. His Dad came back to talk to them and get them to sign some release forms while Stiles took the empty cups of cocoa he had made for the kids into the kitchen.
He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to see a dead body like that when all you had been expecting was to have some happy make out sessions. They were only fifteen. He hadn’t seen his first dead body until he was twenty-one. And even then it’d been in a controlled environment in the morgue… and he still puked up all over his shoes.
“You’ll be okay,” Stiles said to them. “But just stay away from the woods in future. I’m sure your parents will be more than happy to let you make out in your rooms from now on.”
“Not likely,” the boy said, looking at his shoes.
“Sure they will. Just play on the whole ‘you’re too traumatised to go outside’ thing. Works like a charm,” he said with a smile.
Both the teens gave him a small smile in return that was cut off as their parents reappeared. They said their thanks and quickly ushered their children home.
“Stiles, why don’t you head home early?” his Dad said. “We’re gonna need you to do some door knocking later.”
Stiles sighed. At least he’d get out of the station. “Sure, Dad, just call if you need anything.”
“Will do son,” his Dad said with a small smile before disappearing into the back.
Rubbing a tired hand over his face, Stiles grabbed his stuff and headed for the exit. Hopefully one day he’d get to see some action. At least he could go home and crawl into his bed and feel sorry for himself there.
On his way home, he stopped by the twenty-four hour convenience store. He needed a few things like milk, bread and kitty litter. It was probably best to get it now, rather than wait and not have the time to later. As he made his way round the store, he wasn’t surprised by its emptiness. It was still the early hours of the morning. Actually, he was surprised it could afford to stay open. He swore the only night time shoppers were those in the emergency services and in a town like Beacon Hills, that wasn’t many.
However, as he turned into the homeware aisle in search for a new toilet brush – don’t ask – he was surprised to see none other than Derek Hale standing staring at floor cleaner. Stiles recognised him straight away, what with the tall, dark and oh so hot Stiles might just die right there. Derek had always been the same. They’d been on the lacrosse team in school together, although Derek had been two years older and Stiles hadn’t seen him since he’d left for college.
“Derek?” he asked as he approached. “You need a little help there buddy?”
Derek turned to look at him, the blank stare of non recognition quickly changing into one of guarded defence as he took in Stiles’ uniform.
“Stiles Stilinski,” Stiles said. “We were on the team together in high school.”
Derek nodded his head a little before turning back to the floor cleaner and selecting the make of his choice. As he reached out, Stiles noticed that the back of his knuckles were bruised and split open in some places. It was then that Stiles realised the irregularity of someone buying floor cleaner at four-thirty in the morning.
“You been in a fight or something?” Stiles asked gesturing to his hands.
“Or something,” Derek replied before turning and stalking down the aisle towards the checkout.
Stiles watched him go, a feeling of unease crawling over his skin. He was tempted to call his Dad and tell him about it all, ask if Derek had a record. But, he knew his Dad would be swamped so he decided to sleep on it and check it out himself the next night.
~*~*~*~*~*~
After waking up to a soft paw on his face and the distinct sound of purring, the cat apparently wanting attention, Stiles had a quick lunch/breakfast and headed back to the station. When he got there, he was pleased to see that his Dad’s secretary Anne-Marie had sent him home earlier for some well needed rest.
“Any luck with the others?” Stiles asked pointing towards the cells.
“They all had air tight alibis,” she told him. “So it’s back to the drawing board.”
“What killed her anyway?”
Anne-Marie fished through a pile of manila folders on her desk and handed him one. “Coroner’s preliminary report,” she said.
Stiles grinned. The best thing about being an actual cop now was that he was actually allowed to look at this stuff.
Saying his thanks, he took the folder over to his underused desk, waving his hand in acknowledgment when she told him he’d better return it. The victim had been identified as Allison Argent; a college student in the next town over, studying for her masters degree in European History. By all accounts she was a smart, quiet girl who had moved to Beacon Hills with her family a few years ago. The worst thing though, was that she was home schooled otherwise, she would’ve been in Stiles’ class. Hell, if she was as smart as this report said, then he probably would’ve been good friends with her. A part of him was glad he wasn’t, but another part was sad because if she maybe had more friends in town, then she might not have gotten mixed up with the wrong kind of people and ended up dead in the woods.
The coroner’s report said the cause of death appeared to be inconclusive, but that she had multiple injuries, both from blunt force trauma and a sharp object all over her body. She had also recently had sexual intercourse, but it wasn’t forced – so she had a boyfriend that they needed to find. Looking at the pictures taken, Stiles felt his stomach turn at the dark bruises on her neck. It might not have been the cause of death, but someone had clearly had their hand wrapped around her throat. Someone male as the expanse of the bruises were too large to be female.
After reading through the file twice and taking a few notes, Stiles turned on his computer and began his search on Derek Hale. There was nothing in the state database apart from a couple of speeding tickets from high school. But when he did a national search, that’s when he hit the jackpot.
The state of New York had quite a lot on Derek. New York had been where Derek’s sister had been attending law school, so he must’ve followed her there. But it said here, that he’d been majoring in English Literature, not something Stiles would’ve expected as a pre-law subject. All of the Hales were lawyers of some kind, having companies on both the East and West coast. So to see that Derek hadn’t been aiming towards going to law school before he got his criminal record was a bit of a surprise. And what a record it was.
He had been convicted of aggravated assault in the first degree. However, with no priors and pleading guilty, he had managed to get the minimum sentence and served two thirds of it. He’d been released just three months ago for ‘good behaviour’. Still... assault in the first degree. That was a B class felony. The only thing worse would be murder, and if he was such a violent man then he was more than likely capable of making that step.
“Oh crap!”
“What?”
Stiles jumped at the sound of his father’s voice.
“Why aren’t you out knocking doors like I asked?” he demanded to know before glancing at Stiles’ computer. “And why the hell are you looking at Derek Hale’s police record?”
“He did it!” Stiles shouted, making everyone turn to look at him. His Dad just gave him a raised eyebrow. “No seriously, he did time for aggravated assault. He just got back to Beacon Hills. He probably lives with his uncle up in the woods ‘cause who would rent their property to an ex con?! And, I saw him at the store last night and he looked like he’d been in a bare knuckle fight.”
His Dad frowned and looked at the computer. “What’s his motive?”
“I don’t know. Maybe he’s the boyfriend. Maybe she was breaking up with him and he got angry. Maybe he didn’t need a reason?”
The Sheriff stared down at him for a second, Stiles doing his best to try and persuade his Dad with his eyes that Hale was their guy before finally, the Sheriff grunted at him and turned around.
“Anne-Marie, get me Judge Matherson on the phone. We’re gonna need a warrant.”
Stiles wanted to jump for joy. His Dad usually dismissed his ‘hunches’, so for him to take his suggestion on board, well it meant a lot to him. But then again, on paper, Derek Hale looked pretty damn guilty. It would be stupid not to at least bring him in for questioning.
However, Stiles excitement soon diminished when his Dad informed him that he wouldn’t be going with them to make the arrest, that he was to stay at the station and guard the front desk, as Jackie, who had come in last night with everyone else, had gone home to sleep.
“I can’t believe this!” he shouted an hour later when the warrant had been faxed through and they were all getting ready to go. “I crack this case wide open and I get made to wait behind?! How is that fair?”
“Stiles,” the sheriff sighed, “you know as well as I do, that if this doesn’t go by the book, if we mess up one little bit, that Peter Hale will destroy us.”
Stiles froze. “You’re saying I can’t do my job?”
“That’s not what I meant…”
“No, it’s fine,” Stiles said as he sat down behind the front desk. “I mean, I only graduated top of my class in high school, college and the academy,” he added as he logged on to the computer. “But whatever. I’m sure things will run a lot more smoothly without me.”
“Look, all I meant was that you’ve never had to deal with anything like this. It’s best to let us with experience do it.”
“I’m not even going to comment on how my lack of experience is no ones fault but yours,” Stiles told him before grabbing all the ‘in’ mail and turning to put them all in the correct pigeon holes.
“Stiles,” his Dad said, sounding exhausted. But for once, Stiles wasn’t in the mood to talk and just completely ignored his Dad until he heard him and everyone else leave.
He knew his Dad was only trying to protect him, that he hadn’t even wanted Stiles to join the force in the first place. But Stiles couldn’t imagine doing anything else. He’d idolised his Dad so much and had always wanted to follow in his foot steps – apart from that summer he wanted to be a ballerina princess, but the less said about that the better. He just wished that he had joined a force in a different county. Maybe even state. Perhaps then he’d actually be able to progress with his career.
As he finished sorting through the mail and generally tidying up the front desk, he seriously considered logging on to the computer to look for a viable transfer. But, he wasn’t sure if he could leave his Dad. He’d felt bad enough when he moved into his own apartment on the other side of town, he doubted he would actually survive the guilt if he moved to a whole other town or state. So he was stuck.
Fortunately, before he could let himself get too down about his current position, his Dad and a couple of the detectives returned, dragging one Derek Hale in with them.
“Stiles, I need you to book Mr Hale here,” his Dad said, leaving Stiles and one of the detectives with him.
“Uh, sure,” Stiles nodded.
He usually wouldn’t be the one to do the booking, normally that would be done by one of the sergeants, but he guessed with so many of their officers being called in last night that they were pretty short handed. That and out of everyone at the station, he was the only one who had done it recently having booked the few drink drivers and bar brawlers on his night shifts over the past few months.
“This way,” he said to the detective who pushed Derek Hale in front of him as they followed Stiles towards the cells.
There was a desk just before the holding area that had everything he needed, and thankfully, the computer was still on from the night before. He really hadn’t been looking forward to standing there in an awkward silence as it booted up.
“Okay, Derek,” Stiles said as he grabbed the clipboard from the side and motioned for the detective to bring him forward. “You have been read your rights?” Derek gave him a small nod. “Well at this time I would to reiterate that you do not need to say anything, but should you remain silent this may harm your defence. And anything you do say may be used against you in a court of law. Do you understand?” Again, Derek just nodded, obviously choosing to remain silent.
Stiles refrained from rolling his eyes as he began to fill out the paperwork. When Derek refused to speak to give any personal information, not even his date of birth, Stiles had to empty his wallet to find his ID. Of course, upon doing so he found the usual condom, but when he discovered a small sachet of lube, he couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows in surprise. Derek though, he just gave him a shrug, as if it was perfectly normal to carry lubricant in ones’ wallet.
“Guess it’s good to be prepared,” Stiles said as he made a note of the wallet’s contents as well as the cell phone they found in his other pocket. All the while, wondering why – if he was the boyfriend – an apparent straight guy would carry lube with him.
Once Stiles finished taking his finger prints and a mouth swab for DNA, he nodded to the now very bored looking detective. “He’s all yours.”
As he was dragged away, Derek let his eyes linger on Stiles. He probably knew that it was Stiles’ fault he’d been arrested. Or at least suspected it. But Stiles couldn’t care less. He was just doing his job. And if Derek was innocent, then hoorah for him. But really, with the whole dark and brooding ‘bad boy’ look Derek had going on – Stiles swore it wasn’t like that in school. In fact, he distinctly remembers a lot of khaki being worn – people were bound to think the worst of him. Just like everyone thought he was a saint because he wore a uniform.
Hoping that they at least got something useful, Stiles made quick work of entering all of Derek Hale’s information into their system before printing off a paper copy of his New York State record and putting it all together in a nice neat folder ‘cause y’know, he might not do anything exciting, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t take pride in his work.