How hard could it be? • LM / SS

Chapter 11

                         "I think he did it,
                  but I just can't prove it."

TW - Panic attack and description of a panic attack

Max, Stiles and Scott made their way through Beacon Hills hospital, following the directions on the signs that were hanging on the colourful walls.

"Just check the body and let's get out of here," Max sighed, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. This wasn't exactly how any of them had planned on spending the rest of their day, yet here they were. The three of them had been roped into making the visit to the hospital after a run in with Derek earlier in the afternoon.

Derek had given Allison back her jacket in school after she had left it in his car, and Scott, being the lovesick beta that he was, decided to confront the man and warn him to leave the brunette alone. But during the conversation, Scott noticed a scent that was familiar to him; blood. More specifically, the blood from the other night in the woods, the dead body. Well, half of the dead body.

Scott took a left heading towards the morgue, his hands in his pockets, trying and failing to not look suspicious. God knows what Melissa would do if she caught them here. Stiles and Max loitered in the waiting area, trying to keep themselves occupied by scrolling through their phones and playing rock paper scissors.

"There's Lydia. I'm gonna go talk to her, I'll be back," Stiles patted the seer on the shoulder, walking away before he had time to protest against the idea. This was his chance to work on the narrowing plan to make the strawberry blonde fall in love with him.

"No, don't leave m-" Max hissed, but he was already gone. Grumbling under his breath, he leaned up against the wall, waving a hand at a nurse who glared at his distrusting behaviour.

"Hey, Lydia!" Stiles enthusiastically exclaimed, hands on his hips when she glanced up at him. "So uh.. I don't know if you remember me. I sit behind you in biology?" he said. Lydia twirled a strand of hair around her finger, a look that suggested she was trying to remember him.

"Anyways, I just thought we always had this kind of connection. Unspoken obviously." Max put his hands over his eyes, leaving a slit to still see what was happening. He was finding this physically painful to watch; the second hand embarrassment he was getting was unbelievable. "And maybe we should try and get to know each other a bit better."

"Hold on a second," Lydia said, pulling out her earphones that had been hidden by her curtain of hair. "Yeah, I didn't get a word of what you just said. Is it worth repeating?"

"No. Sorry," Stiles laughed nervously, resisting the urge to crawl into a hole and never come out. He squinted at Max, who was holding a hand over his mouth in order to stop himself from laughing.

"Don't even say anything," Stiles grumbled, throwing himself into a chair and pulling Max into the one next to him.

"I don't have to. I can already feel how embarrassed you are," he grinned.

"Stupid fucking empath," Stiles mumbled, putting emphasis on the word empath. The heat rushed to his face, making his freckles disappear into the abyss of colour.

~

"It's the same scent," Scott whispered, rounding the corner and standing in front of his cousin and best friend, yanking the leaflets that the two were reading out of their hands.

"Are you sure?" Max asked, eyes wide as he rushed to his feet.

"Yeah."

"Which means he buried the other half of the body."