Switched

Cranky

                      Thomas P.O.V
"So... Stiles was quite the detective," I tap the white marker on my chin.

"I know! I keep telling him to become a cop or a detective—"

"Mason!"

"Sorry."

I raise my hand in the air, "No. It's fine. I'd like to hear a little bit more about this oh so famous, Stiles Stilinski."

Malia steps closer to me, "One teeny problem," she pinches her index finger  and thumb in front of her eye for emphasis, "You're, Stiles."

"No I'm not!"

"No he's not!" Both Lydia and I say in unison.

I feel like punching something, or someone.

"Why won't you all just, listen."

"We are listening, and none of us know what to believe."

"I do."

Scott ignores Lydia's comment, rising from the bed. "You've been acting weird lately."

"I know—"

"And that was before you claimed to have switched places with a fictional character." he takes another step towards me.

"Your mom—"

"I don't have a mom. At least not one that I remember."

Scott looks to the rest of the group, even Lydia begins to look worried. It's as if they can speak through eye language.

I look away from the board for a moment, "Guys?? Would anyone mind telling me what's going on?"

Scott finally breaks the gaze, "Where's your dad? I mean Sheriff Stilinski."

"Last time he spoke to me was when he told me he was heading to the Sheriff's department."

They all frantically begin grabbing their things. Purses, backpacks, sweaters, Stiles's car keys. Then Scott grabs my arm and leads me out the door.

"Let's go buddy."

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                         Stiles P.O.V

Everywhere I go, there's a dead end.

I don't know for how long I've been searching. Don't even know what I'm searching for. I just need something, anything, that'll help me find my way home. It's also getting pretty dark. Newt stopped following me after I entered the labyrinth. That was the first time I've ever seen him really mad.

"Tommy! What the bloody hell are you doing. This has gone far enough!" He puts one leg into the maze, quickly receding back. "You may have killed a griever once, but there's no guarantee you'll be able to do it again!"

I spin around, "I have no freakin idea what you're talking about!"

Actually I did. I obsessed over the series for a month, but ignore that.

"Thomas. Quit it! I'm done with your bullshit. You promised to get us out of here! Well, that was until a griever dragged you into the woods and stung you. But you made a promise. And the Thomas I know would never, break a promise."

"That's it! The Thomas you know isn't here! He's.. well I don't know. But let me tell you something," I take a step backwards, "Would the Thomas you know, know how you got that limp?" I nod towards his leg.

His jaw tightens.

"You climbed to the top of one of the walls, and.. slipped. Precisely, that one" I point towards the wall in the far left corner. The one with the most vines. Now I don't know why I was being so harsh, I just needed him to understand.

"Who are you? And what have you done with the real Thomas?" he growls, eyes sharp and red.

"Beats me," I turn around, look left to right. "Oh and, Newt. Keep that temper under control,"  I grin, "You've been a bit.. cranky lately."

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Stiles may seem like a douche right now, but he's just trying to joke around and be his sarcastic self. He's also the only person actually keeping the story funny and upbeat. And at times Thomas. {also he may or may not save Newt later on in the story, so don't hate him. I mean how can you? And if I make any spelling errors, please do tell me.