robinonadderall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
robinonadderall) wrote2012-11-23 10:35 am
robinonadderall) wrote2012-11-23 10:35 am
Beacon Hills High Locker Room | Afternoon
A giant lizard terrorizing the area didn't stop Beacon Hills from having some sort of party once every few weeks. This time it was a secret rave being held in a warehouse around town, being held by a woman that the Sheriff suspected might have ties to the other kanima victims. Jackson was sure to go and it was decided this would be the perfect time to try to capture both him and his master.
Now if only they could get tickets.
"There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott asked. They had been ridiculously expensive and sold out fast so Stiles and Scott hadn't been able to get any.
"It's a secret show, there's only one way," Stiles said. "And it's secret."
Matt approached the two, his lacrosse stick resting against his shoulder. "Hey, either of you guys know why no one is getting suspended after what happened in the library?"
"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles said offhandedly. He had no idea why he found every aspect of Matt's personality irritating, but he did. He was worse than Greenberg.
Matt frowned. "I got a concussion."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Okay, nobody got seriously hurt."
"I was in the ER for six hours!"
"Okay, you wanna know the truth, Matt?" Stiles crouched down and raised his hand about an inch off the floor. "Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now!"
Scott gave Matt an apologetic look. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Matt said, giving Stiles a weird look. "So you didn't get any tickets earlier?"
"Are they selling?" Scott asked hopefully.
"No, but I found two online," he said. "You should keep trying, sounds like everyone is gonna be there."
"I still don't like him," Stiles said as Matt walked away. "Are you sure about going to this rave?"
"The last time the kanima murdered, the guy controlling him had to finish the job because Jackson didn't," Scott said. "What do you think he's gonna do this time?"
"He'll be there to make sure it happens. Okay, we'll get tickets." Stiles took a couple steps forward to where Danny was putting on his padding and nudged him on the shoulder. "Danny, do you know where to get tickets to the secret show?"
"Sorry, I barely managed to get two myself," Danny said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Because he was Danny and sweet like that.
"Do you even have a date yet?" Stiles asked.
Danny frowned. "I'm working on it."
"Okay, hear me out," Stiles said. "You give your tickets to me and Scott and then you devote your life to abstinence. Or, how about this, if you give me the tickets I will let you grope my older boyfriend who totally exists and am not having a fake relationship with to scare off lady drunks."
What, whoring out Derek worked once, it could work again.
Danny looked at Stiles like he was an idiot and Stiles was ready to try to argue his point but a strong hand was clamped on his shoulder and he got yanked back. He tilted his head up to see Isaac standing behind him, his arms around both his and Scott's shoulders.
"How do you two losers even survive?" Isaac asked, shaking his head.
"What else are we supposed to do?" Stiles asked. "No one is even selling."
Across the locker room Greenberg and one of his no-name friends were showing off their tickets for the rave. Isaac smirked and patted Stiles' chest. "Wait here, boys."
"What is he doing?" Scott asked as he watched Isaac approach Greenberg and the other kid.
A second later it became clear when Isaac pushed Greenberg against a locker with one hand and punched him in the stomach. Stiles made a squeaking noise and winced as he watched Isaac beat the hell out of the two guys. "That's excessive...that'll bruise...wow, okay..."
Isaac came back to Scott and Stiles a few moments later and pressed a ticket into each of their hands. "Enjoy the show."
"Okay, that was not the right thing to do," Stiles said after he caught the conflicted look on Scott's face. "But let's be real, Greenberg had it coming. Just for being Greenberg."
Scott thought about that for a moment and nodded, apparently pleased with that logic. Then he looked confused. "Wait, you have a boyfriend now?"
"Fake boyfriend," Stiles corrected. "Derek's my fake boyfriend."
You know, that was totally worth it just to see Scott run face first into an open locker door. Nice werewolf reflexes, McCall.
Stiles really couldn't agree with the method of how they got tickets to the rave, but since it was an emergency he wasn't about to look a gift werewolf in the mouth. After practice, Scott and Stiles headed to Deaton's to get what they needed to try to trap Jackson and his master.
"Ketamine?" Scott asked, eyeing the vial Deaton was holding up.
"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage. If you get close enough to Jackson it should slow him down enough to buy you some time," Deaton explained. He put the vial down on the counter and picked up a jar filled with some black dust. "This is some of what you'll use to create a barrier to trap Jackson and his master in the warehouse. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you."
"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles wanted to be needed and useful, yeah, but this was a hell of a thing to start off with. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"
"This is from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural," Deaton said, acting like Stiles wasn't about a second away from spazzing out. "This office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to give me a hard time."
"Okay so, what, I just spread this around the whole building and then Jackson and whoever's controlling him can't cross it?" Stiles asked.
Deaton nodded. "They'll be trapped."
"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott said and Stiles had to agree.
Deaton, however, didn't seem to agree. "That's not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder, it's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."
Stiles looked between Scott and Deaton, looking confused. "Uh, if you meant like light myself on fire I don't think I'm up for that."
"Let me try a different analogy," Deaton said. "I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing without imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind, their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."
"Force of will," Stiles repeated. That sounded so stupid.
Deaton seemed to sense Stiles' hesitation and he leveled Stiles with a pretty serious look. "If this going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."
Stiles took the mountain ash out of Deaton's hands and nodded. Sure, he could do that. He just had to believe. That didn't sound stupid at all or anything.
Scott had to take care of something before they left for the rave so Stiles went home to pack some supplies in the jeep just in case things went wrong tonight. Things always went wrong, so it was good to prepare. As he was packing up the last of it his father's car pulled up and his father got out quietly, not really greeting Stiles in any way.
"Hey, dad, I'm about to go out," Stiles started but frowned when he got a good look at his father. "What's wrong?"
The Sheriff shook his head. "Nothing."
Stiles knew that wasn't true. He gave his father a once over and frowned even more. "Where's your gun?"
"It's at the station," his father answered. "With my badge."
"What?" Stiles asked.
"We'll talk about this later." The Sheriff gave Stiles a nod and moved to go into the house. "Don't worry about it."
Stiles wasn't about to take that for an answer. "Dad!"
The Sheriff turned back around, sighing. "It was decided that the son of a police chief stealing police property and having a restraining order put against him by one of the town's most respected attorneys did not reflect well on the county."
"They fired you." Because of him. It was his fault. Stiles felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach.
"No, it's a leave of absence," his father said. "It's temporary."
"Did they say it was temporary?" Stiles asked. He was trying to keep a very tight hold on his emotions otherwise he could easily venture into freakout mode and he really didn't need to have a panic attack tonight.
"Actually no," the Sheriff answered. "But don't worry about it. We're gonna be fine."
His father turned to leave again and Stiles knew he should let it go, but he couldn't. "Dad, wait. I don't get it, why aren't you yelling at me?"
"I don't know." The Sheriff's frown got a little deeper and he shook his head. "Maybe I don't want to feel worse than I already do by having to yell at my son."
Stiles could feel tears welling up, guilt settling into his chest. His father turned to go back in the house again and Stiles didn't stop him this time. He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, knowing he couldn't dwell on this now. He had to get Scott and head to the rave before Jackson could kill someone else.
[Taken from Teen Wolf 2x08 "Raving". NFB, NFI but OOC is fine]
Now if only they could get tickets.
"There's got to be some other way to get tickets, right?" Scott asked. They had been ridiculously expensive and sold out fast so Stiles and Scott hadn't been able to get any.
"It's a secret show, there's only one way," Stiles said. "And it's secret."
Matt approached the two, his lacrosse stick resting against his shoulder. "Hey, either of you guys know why no one is getting suspended after what happened in the library?"
"Just forget about it, nobody got hurt," Stiles said offhandedly. He had no idea why he found every aspect of Matt's personality irritating, but he did. He was worse than Greenberg.
Matt frowned. "I got a concussion."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Okay, nobody got seriously hurt."
"I was in the ER for six hours!"
"Okay, you wanna know the truth, Matt?" Stiles crouched down and raised his hand about an inch off the floor. "Your little bump on the head is about this high on our list of problems right now!"
Scott gave Matt an apologetic look. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Matt said, giving Stiles a weird look. "So you didn't get any tickets earlier?"
"Are they selling?" Scott asked hopefully.
"No, but I found two online," he said. "You should keep trying, sounds like everyone is gonna be there."
"I still don't like him," Stiles said as Matt walked away. "Are you sure about going to this rave?"
"The last time the kanima murdered, the guy controlling him had to finish the job because Jackson didn't," Scott said. "What do you think he's gonna do this time?"
"He'll be there to make sure it happens. Okay, we'll get tickets." Stiles took a couple steps forward to where Danny was putting on his padding and nudged him on the shoulder. "Danny, do you know where to get tickets to the secret show?"
"Sorry, I barely managed to get two myself," Danny said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Because he was Danny and sweet like that.
"Do you even have a date yet?" Stiles asked.
Danny frowned. "I'm working on it."
"Okay, hear me out," Stiles said. "You give your tickets to me and Scott and then you devote your life to abstinence. Or, how about this, if you give me the tickets I will let you grope my older boyfriend who totally exists and am not having a fake relationship with to scare off lady drunks."
What, whoring out Derek worked once, it could work again.
Danny looked at Stiles like he was an idiot and Stiles was ready to try to argue his point but a strong hand was clamped on his shoulder and he got yanked back. He tilted his head up to see Isaac standing behind him, his arms around both his and Scott's shoulders.
"How do you two losers even survive?" Isaac asked, shaking his head.
"What else are we supposed to do?" Stiles asked. "No one is even selling."
Across the locker room Greenberg and one of his no-name friends were showing off their tickets for the rave. Isaac smirked and patted Stiles' chest. "Wait here, boys."
"What is he doing?" Scott asked as he watched Isaac approach Greenberg and the other kid.
A second later it became clear when Isaac pushed Greenberg against a locker with one hand and punched him in the stomach. Stiles made a squeaking noise and winced as he watched Isaac beat the hell out of the two guys. "That's excessive...that'll bruise...wow, okay..."
Isaac came back to Scott and Stiles a few moments later and pressed a ticket into each of their hands. "Enjoy the show."
"Okay, that was not the right thing to do," Stiles said after he caught the conflicted look on Scott's face. "But let's be real, Greenberg had it coming. Just for being Greenberg."
Scott thought about that for a moment and nodded, apparently pleased with that logic. Then he looked confused. "Wait, you have a boyfriend now?"
"Fake boyfriend," Stiles corrected. "Derek's my fake boyfriend."
You know, that was totally worth it just to see Scott run face first into an open locker door. Nice werewolf reflexes, McCall.
Stiles really couldn't agree with the method of how they got tickets to the rave, but since it was an emergency he wasn't about to look a gift werewolf in the mouth. After practice, Scott and Stiles headed to Deaton's to get what they needed to try to trap Jackson and his master.
"Ketamine?" Scott asked, eyeing the vial Deaton was holding up.
"It's the same stuff we use on the dogs, just a higher dosage. If you get close enough to Jackson it should slow him down enough to buy you some time," Deaton explained. He put the vial down on the counter and picked up a jar filled with some black dust. "This is some of what you'll use to create a barrier to trap Jackson and his master in the warehouse. This part is for you, Stiles. Only you."
"Uh, that sounds like a lot of pressure." Stiles wanted to be needed and useful, yeah, but this was a hell of a thing to start off with. "Can we maybe find a slightly less pressure-filled task for me?"
"This is from the mountain ash tree, which is believed by many cultures to protect against the supernatural," Deaton said, acting like Stiles wasn't about a second away from spazzing out. "This office is lined with ash wood, making it difficult for someone like Scott to give me a hard time."
"Okay so, what, I just spread this around the whole building and then Jackson and whoever's controlling him can't cross it?" Stiles asked.
Deaton nodded. "They'll be trapped."
"Doesn't sound too hard," Scott said and Stiles had to agree.
Deaton, however, didn't seem to agree. "That's not all there is. Think of it like gunpowder, it's just powder until a spark ignites it. You need to be that spark, Stiles."
Stiles looked between Scott and Deaton, looking confused. "Uh, if you meant like light myself on fire I don't think I'm up for that."
"Let me try a different analogy," Deaton said. "I used to golf. I learned that the best golfers never swing without imagining where they want the ball to go. They see it in their mind, their mind takes over. It can be pretty extraordinary what the force of your own will can accomplish."
"Force of will," Stiles repeated. That sounded so stupid.
Deaton seemed to sense Stiles' hesitation and he leveled Stiles with a pretty serious look. "If this going to work, Stiles, you have to believe it."
Stiles took the mountain ash out of Deaton's hands and nodded. Sure, he could do that. He just had to believe. That didn't sound stupid at all or anything.
Scott had to take care of something before they left for the rave so Stiles went home to pack some supplies in the jeep just in case things went wrong tonight. Things always went wrong, so it was good to prepare. As he was packing up the last of it his father's car pulled up and his father got out quietly, not really greeting Stiles in any way.
"Hey, dad, I'm about to go out," Stiles started but frowned when he got a good look at his father. "What's wrong?"
The Sheriff shook his head. "Nothing."
Stiles knew that wasn't true. He gave his father a once over and frowned even more. "Where's your gun?"
"It's at the station," his father answered. "With my badge."
"What?" Stiles asked.
"We'll talk about this later." The Sheriff gave Stiles a nod and moved to go into the house. "Don't worry about it."
Stiles wasn't about to take that for an answer. "Dad!"
The Sheriff turned back around, sighing. "It was decided that the son of a police chief stealing police property and having a restraining order put against him by one of the town's most respected attorneys did not reflect well on the county."
"They fired you." Because of him. It was his fault. Stiles felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach.
"No, it's a leave of absence," his father said. "It's temporary."
"Did they say it was temporary?" Stiles asked. He was trying to keep a very tight hold on his emotions otherwise he could easily venture into freakout mode and he really didn't need to have a panic attack tonight.
"Actually no," the Sheriff answered. "But don't worry about it. We're gonna be fine."
His father turned to leave again and Stiles knew he should let it go, but he couldn't. "Dad, wait. I don't get it, why aren't you yelling at me?"
"I don't know." The Sheriff's frown got a little deeper and he shook his head. "Maybe I don't want to feel worse than I already do by having to yell at my son."
Stiles could feel tears welling up, guilt settling into his chest. His father turned to go back in the house again and Stiles didn't stop him this time. He swiped at his eyes with his sleeve, knowing he couldn't dwell on this now. He had to get Scott and head to the rave before Jackson could kill someone else.
[Taken from Teen Wolf 2x08 "Raving". NFB, NFI but OOC is fine]
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