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Title: Have a safe trip
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Relationship: None, Gen
Characters: Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski
Genre: Drama – Crime Drama
Warnings: Discussion of dead bodies
Word Count: 849
Summary: Stiles finds a surprise.
Stiles ran through the preserve, wondering if he would make it before curfew. His father was not impressed with his punctuality skills of late. Was it his fault that the supernatural world kept up and getting in the way?
Case in point, the bare ass Stiles just tripped over.
He looked back once the shock of the fall wore off, shaking the pain out of his wrist to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. It was perfectly feasible that he tripped over air — it’s happened before. But no, there it was, a bare, pale white ass peeking out from the earth approximately ten minutes from his home.
With a sigh, Stiles dialed his father and reported what he had found. At this point, it looked like a run of the mill dead body, and until he knew otherwise, he wasn’t about to involve any of the fine furry friends he had accumulated over the last few months. Year. Whatever.
“No excuses, Son, I expect you home in five minutes,” the Sheriff said in lieu of a hello.
“Yeah, about that. There’s a problem and I think you need to come to me.” Stiles was prepared for his father to not believe him, he just didn’t want to actually have to go through it. Their relationship hadn’t been the best since this had all started, but this would not help in the least.
“What have you done?” And there was the disappointed tone with a side of disbelief.
“I haven’t done anything, pops. Unless you mean the discovery part, that part I did. And even that part was an accident.”
“Stiles,” his father interjected, “back up and start from the beginning. Where are you and what’s wrong?” A slight amount of concern was creeping into the Sheriff’s voice at the point.
“Right, right. Details. Um, I was heading back to the house — I’m about ten minutes away, in the Preserve — and I tripped. Except for this time it was actually over something — someone — and not just air or a tree or something. I think it’s a dead body. It certainly looks like somebody’s butt is sticking out, but I haven’t touched anything or moved since I stood up after falling.”
“Okay, breathe,” came the first instruction. “And stay exactly where you are. I’ll ping your GPS and find you that way. Have you called anyone else?”
“No, no. No way. There is absolutely no need to turn this into a three-ring circus of that type of caliber. Do you know how out of control this could get if we start calling in the wolves? We’ll have stubborn on the right and brooding on the left and then a pissing match in the middle and me being tugged on like a chew toy —“
“Enough, I get the picture.” There was some quiet chuckling, but no further comment as the Sheriff made his way to his son.
“Look, dad, I just don’t want to cry supernatural if it’s not. There’s plenty of stuff that’s in your jurisdiction; it’s not all crazy weird fucked up stuff.”
“Yes, really. And I agree with you, assessing the situation first is the right thing to do.” By this time the Sheriff had located his son. “I’m hanging up.”
Stepping within sight, he observed the scene and noted where his son and stepped with his flashlight. He took care to step in the same places and took a closer look at the body — or what was showing of it. Poking it with a gloved hand — and ignoring the muffled snorts of his offspring — he concurred that it was a human body that needed removal. Most likely hastily buried and carelessly left by whoever did it.
“We do not need this right now.” Another dead body, perhaps the start of another string of murders? No thanks.
“No, Stiles, we don’t. But what we do need is for my people to come get the body and start collecting evidence.”
“Well, what are they going to find here, it’s obviously just a dump site.”
“Do not start, Son.” The Sheriff turned a harsh glare on his son. “I don’t want you getting involved in this. You have other things to be worrying about. And don’t you be bringing this up with your friends, it’s none of their business, especially seeing as until I say otherwise, it does not involve their world.”
And there went any connection he felt building with his father. “I am in no hurry to become a chew toy, daddy-o. All good on the leaving it alone front.” Pointing over his shoulder, “I’m just going to head that way.”
“Or maybe, that way,” the Sheriff corrected, pointing towards home.
“Or maybe, that way,” Stiles agreed, nodding his head before loping off. Regardless of what he told his father, the first thing Stiles would do when he got home was to look up new arrivals in Beacon Hills. But he was totally keeping this to himself. He wasn’t kidding about not wanting to be a chew toy.