𝐖𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠
Riley Winters thought nothing good would come from looking for a dead body with her friends that night. But now she realised just how much that on...
I love this season, but I am so unprepared to write it
Not in the sense that I don't know what I'm going to write, because I do, this season just makes me sad
Thank you to everyone who is still reading, it means the world to me
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"What in the hell were you four thinking?"
Scott, Stiles, Isaac and I were currently standing beside an ambulance as one of the paramedics put a brace on Stiles' wrist. We all turned at the question, to see the Sheriff climbing out of his patrol car with a tired, unsurprised look, on his face.
Scott shrugged, laughing awkwardly, "We were just trying to help."
"Why don't you try and help me understand. . . what the hell happened here?" The Sheriff hissed.
Wincing, I turned to my boyfriend, "You wanna take this one?"
He blinked a couple of times, before turning to his father. "Right, well, we were trying to gently persuade him to pull over. . ."
I bit my lip at his choice of words, thinking back to what had happened. We had been following a man we believed to be a threat. He had gotten into a car and was getting away, so Scott had jumped onto the hood, claws out and eyes glowing. The man had been screaming, swerving to try and get the boy off of his car.
"Yep, gently," I nodded in agreement.
When the Sheriff was looking at us in doubt, Scott spoke up, "He was getting away."
"He got away," the Sheriff corrected, reminding us of how the encounter had ended.
Stiles was quick on the defence, backing up our sorry. "Right. Because obviously, he's some sort of criminal mastermind, Dad."
The Sheriff walked past us to the back of the man's van, opening the doors. "Uh-huh. You want to guess what the stolen merchandise is?"
Looking into the back of the van, we saw that it was filled with tanks. Leaning forward to read one of the labels, I cringed when I realised the mistake we'd made.
"Critical life-saving medical equipment?" Stiles suggested, guessing as his father had asked.
"No."
Isaac decided to give it a go, shrugging, "Poison gas?"
"Nope."
"Filled with drugs?" Stiles guessed, scraping the bottom of the barrel at that point.
His father leaned forward slightly, "Helium."
"Helium?" Stiles repeated slowly, confused.
"Killer clown?" I offered up, hoping that the Sheriff would reconsider how mad he was.
