CHASING PHANTOMS // TEEN WOLF [bxb]

RUN

***

       The next morning, papers were littered all around Stiles's room, a mini board sprawled amidst the mess with pins and red string. The printer continued to print and deposit pages on the floor as the three boys slept soundly.

       Sheriff Stilinski entered his son's room only to find all three boys still passed out asleep in various positions. 

       Stiles's legs were somehow on the bed while his body was suspended between it and the floor, his arms under him and his face smushed against scattered articles. 

       Scott was curled on Stiles' desk chair, his legs up and head leaning off the back, upper body almost falling off of it. 

       Jake was undoubtedly the most comfortable of the three, sprawled backwards on the bed with his legs over Stiles's, his neck craned off the end of the mattress. 

       For a moment it reminded him of the sleepovers they used to have when they were younger and times were easier.

       "Boys, time to wake up," Sheriff tried again, hoping they'd hear him. With a sigh, he let go of the doorknob and fully stepped into the room. "Boys!" he called, raising his voice this time.

       The reaction was immediate, all three of them jerking awake, Stiles falling the rest of the way off the bed in surprise, Scott flailing and just barely catching himself and the chair in time, and Jake whipping his head up and rolling on his front to look at him.

       "I gotta get to work," Sheriff told them, turning to leave. "You three, get to school," he ordered, looking pointedly at them to make sure they listened.

       "Dad!" Stiles called, scrambling up and nearly falling in the mess of papers. "Heather?" he asked hopefully, slouching at his father's grim expression.

       "Nothing yet," Sheriff said regrettably, shaking his head with a sigh and heading out.

       "We'll find her, Stiles," Jake assured softly, turning his head to him once the Sheriff left. He knew how much she meant to him and she didn't deserve anything bad to happen to her. His eyes softened in sympathy when he saw Stiles' barely-there nod before he threw a paper away from him in irritation.

       "Ten hours and nothing," Stiles exclaimed frustratedly, standing up and collecting papers.

       "We're gonna find something," Scott assured, quick to follow Jake's lead.

       "Finding something doesn't make Erica any less dead, or Boyd any less about-to-be-dead," Stiles reminded matter-of-factly, nearing the end of his rope.

       "It gives a chance to stop it from happening to anyone else," Jake said, moving to sit up on the bed instead of leaning up on his forearms.

       "We still have time," Scott added, nodding in agreement, trying to be hopeful.

       "I get the whole 'remain optimistic in the face of complete and utter disaster' thing as a part of your 'Be a Better Scott McCall' program," Stiles started, pointing at Scott before turning to Jake. "But you, when did you get so optimistic?" he asked, flailing his hands and dropping some papers with the motion.

       "It was a 'blink and you'll miss it' kind of thing," Jake scoffed, rolling his eyes fondly. "If it's working, don't complain," he said simply with a knowing smile.

       "Oh, it's working," Stiles sighed reluctantly, looking down at the remaining paper in his hand and nearly dropping it at what he saw. 

       "Dad? Dad!" he yelled as he shoved the article in Jake's hands, running out of the room immediately and leaving the two of them looking after him in confusion.