The Witch and The Wolf

Part Thirty-Six

You sat down on a chair, waiting at the front of the hospital. The police were on their way to the hospital, while everyone left, leaving you and Stiles there.

The two of you sat quietly, both lost in your thoughts. Your mind drifted off to your conversation with Deucalion, as Stiles thought of his best friend, his father. Melissa.

"I just don't get why he went with them," Stiles whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper as he rested his head in his hands.

"He thought he was doing the right thing. Don't get mad at him," you said.

You heard the front door open, as your head shot up, your face immediately dropping as you saw the man standing there, wearing a suit and a badge.

"S-Stiles," you pulled his arm, as he looked up.

"Is... Is that..." he started.

"Yeah, it is," you clenched your jaw, holding in your anger as you ran your fingers through your hair.

He walked towards the two of you, looking at the two of you.

"A Stilinski at the center of this whole mess. Not surprised," he scoffed.

"Agent McCall," you said.

"And (Y/L/N). Not surprised, your mother and Stilinski were close, if memory serves," you rolled your eyes, crossing your arms.

"You wanna tell me why no one's been able to contact your dad?"

Melissa, your mother, and Sheriff Stilinski had known each other for a while, and Melissa confided in the two of them. You knew what happened.

"I don't know, I haven't seen him in a couple of hours," Stiles shrugged.

"Is he drinking like he used to?" you looked up at him, glaring.

"What are you talking about? He never had to stop," Stiles shook his head.

"But he did have to slow down," Rafael started.

"You're the last person who should be talking about other people's drinking habits," you muttered, looking down at your nails.

"Pardon?" he scoffed, crossing his arms as he looked at you.

"Oh, you heard me right, sir. If you're trying to imply or say anything about Sheriff Stilinski, take a nice, long look at yourself first," you stood up, continuing to look into his eyes as you clenched your fist.

"(Y/N)!" Stiles hissed, standing up as he put his hand on your arm, holding you back.

"Listen here, (Y/N)," he started, putting his finger up.

"If you have anything important to ask us, might as well get to it," you crossed your arms.

He went quiet, clenching his jaw before replying.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"I don't know, we were trapped in the elevator the whole time," Stiles lied, rubbing his head as he slumped in his chair.

"So, you don't know anything about the name written on the wall?" he asked.

"What name?"

---

"Oh, use your brain, Argent. She's coming after you next!" you exclaimed as the four of you walked into their apartment.

"Well, I haven't lived up to the role recently," he shrugged.

"That doesn't change shit. She went after Sheriff Stilinski and Melissa. Your name was written on the walls, in blood," you sighed.

"I think Morell was giving us a warning. She knows more than she lets on," Allison started.