CLOSED ♔ muffled rap music

[immuno]

WHO: STILES STILINSKI, LYDIA MARTIN, DEREK HALE, and NICK BURKHARDT
WHERE: Residence #023, Police Station
WHEN: Week of July 15
WHAT: Stiles and Lydia being a detective team (again).
WARNINGS: Stalking

[ starters in comments! ]

Comments

➢ derek hale @ residence #023

[immuno]

I told you we should break in.

[ Lydia’s standing on the doorstep of Derek and Nick’s home, hands folded in front of her and held tightly around her clutch bag. Impatient, she drums her fingers against the material, pressing her lips together in an unmistakable expression of ‘I told you so.’

Her head tilts a little to the side, eyebrows arched, but she seems to drop it after sneaking in that comment. The doorbell has already been rung and that ship has sailed.

After all, Derek’s unemployed. When could they break in? ]

[ex_question191]

[ stiles sighs, heavily, like that's the worst idea in the world. ]

He'd just smell us there after, with his weird werewolf super-nose.

[ he points out. adds: ]

Not to mention, I'm pretty sure he doesn't do much outside the room. So unless you want to wait until the full moon, then you're just gonna have to—

Heyyyyyy Derek!

[ how long have you been standing there. stiles winces, tugs on one ear while he squints awkwardly, trying to come up with a good reason derek should let them in. ]

[altercate]

[ it's not like they're being super subtle. derek can hear them, and when he opens the door his expression is somewhere between exasperated and affronted, like derek hasn't yet made up his mind which he wants to commit to. ]

What now?

[ does he have to point out he could hear you? he's not going to bother. ]

Why would you want to break in here?

[ aka is he going to regret letting you both in? probably. ]

[immuno]

[ When Derek swings the door open, Lydia looks up suddenly, eyes wide, eyebrows arched. She’s quiet for a moment, searching his expression, glancing over his shoulder into the house. For a second, she seems to be mulling over the possibility of providing a better explanation than the truth.

Nah. ]

We wanna spy on your roommate.

[ The slight nod in how she says it seems to demand he get out of the doorway so they can get on with it. She reaches out to rest her hand on his upper arm to gently start pushing him out of the way like pls excuse. ]

[ex_question191]

[ well. that's certainly. the truth. ]

[ stiles pulls a welp face and surges forward to just shoulder past derek, less gentle. ]

Thanks for getting the door, dude.

[ like he was integral to their mission impossible level plan. stiles gives a little fistpump, adds, sotto: ]

Go team!

[altercate]

Which roommate?

[ he has like three or four roommates, everyone has to be more specific. though generally derek assumes that if anyone's getting stared at it's mitchell or nick, so. ]

Why?

[ this is directed more to lydia, since stiles is already in the apartment and because derek sort of assumes he has a better chance at getting a serious answer from her. ]

[immuno]

Which do you think?

[ She gives him a slightly bewildered look, as if awed that he can’t guess, and then moves past him after Stiles. A quick point towards the stairs later, she’s glancing over her shoulder at Derek. ]

Which room is Nick’s?

[ex_question191]

[ stiles turns on his heel, walks backwards — which is probably stupid and inadvisable given he's not exactly a graceful ballerina, but he wants to talk to them both. ]

He gives her the heebie jeebies, so we're gonna check him out.

[ he explains helpfully, and then collides with the bannister with a mouthed fuck and an exaggerated grabbing of his badly wounded (read: barely bruised) side. ]

[altercate]

He's not human.

[ is he supposed to be keeping this a secret? sorry not sorry nick. he closes the door, though he looks over to roll his eyes at stiles, shakes his head. ]

What do you think you're going to find in his room?

[ though derek has stopped actively complaining about it, which is a very clear sign he's on board. ]

[immuno]

He's not alive, either. [ Lydia says it over her shoulder as she starts up the stairs. If Derek isn't going to give a clear answer, she'll invade everyone's privacy and guess until she's right. ] Probably. [ Stiles can be in charge of the evidence speculation. ]

plurk discussion topic: cee bringing mitchell into this log.

[ex_question191]

Clues.

[ stiles tells derek, following her. ]

Very definitely clues. We wanna know what this guy's deal is, okay? If he's a threat to you.

[ so it's totally in derek's best interest and has nothing at all to do with lydia and stiles' insatiable need to stick his nose in where it doesn't belong. ]

gratefully climbs in

[humanistic]

[Speaking of not alive...

In a departure from a more stereotypical vampire's habits, Mitchell does not have a room in the basement. It's at the top of the stairs, and he's been asleep, because (in keeping with stereotypical vampire habits) he mostly works nights. But now he's awake, still wearing the clothes he fell asleep in, and his big plan to go downstairs and eat crappy breakfast cereal has now been interrupted by the Bobbsey Twin and their faithful canine companion, Derek.

b r i l l i a n t]

Jesus God, what is this. [wait don't answer] No, sorry. I don't even know that I want t' know what's going on here.

casually boots out

[altercate]

[ derek is saved from weighing on the idea of whether or not nick is going to be a threat by mitchell. who derek has tentatively categorized as not a threat, but maybe an annoyance, based on that bracket text gosh. ]

Nothing's going on.

[ because getting immediately defensive is the way to divert suspicion, right? ]

They're visiting. Is that a problem?

[ in a tone that suggests it shouldn't be if an argument is to be avoided. ]

➢ nick burkhardt @ police station

[immuno]

[ Here’s a change of pace.

As they round the corner to the police station, it’s Lydia who’s hurrying in stuttered, clacking steps in her high heels to keep up with Stiles’ brisk pace. She’s distracted by glancing over her shoulder because breaking into a room after being invited into a house is a different level of crime than breaking into someone’s desk at a police station.

Not that they haven’t done both, but one requires considerable more care and planning—neither of which they have achieved.

She comes up even with him, stubbornly matching his stride with a sharp look. ]

How exactly are we going to break into a police station? Are you even allowed near the detectives’ desks?

[ex_question191]

[ stiles has longer legs, but lydia's walking faster, so they're shoulder to shoulder as they round the next corner. he has one shoulder lifted, like he's trying to hide behind himself. it's not subtle. ]

Oh, my god. I don't know!

[ he hisses. ]

I've got a badge that says I work here.

[ that's literally it. that's what he's relying on to get them through this. just call him stiles "preplanning" stilinski. ]

Let's just— walk over, okay? If someone asks I'll say I'm getting him... paperwork.

[immuno]

Paperwork.

[ Doubtful, but relenting, she pushes open the door into the station and comes to a stop, watching a few people mill around. Her eyes are wide and her lips are pressed tight — alarmed or overwhelmed, it’s hard to say. ]

Great.

[ She takes her sweet time in turning to level her gaze on Stiles. ]

Which one’s his?

[ex_question191]

Uhhhhh— that one.

[ stiles has to look around a little before he points at it. he's not actually unsure about it: nick's about the only employee he knows. but he's nervous and hypertense with it, unable to concentrate on any one thing. but he takes her arm (not roughly, but thoughtlessly) and gets them moving again, because gaping in the doorway wasn't going to help them blend in. ]

[ he pulls the desk chair out of the way in a sharp motion, steps into the desk space that leaves. ]

You do the desk, I'll do the drawers.

[ he murmurs, squatting down for the first one. ]

[immuno]

[ While he’s probably the only person it would be true for, Lydia allows Stiles to usher her away from the door. Her body picks up on his absent-minded cues and moves alongside him towards the desk.

Without pause, she steps into the space the chair had occupied, shoving Stiles over to work on the drawers while she leans over the desk to start rummaging. Melissa get in here and tell me what’s on Nick’s desk. ]

I bet he’s killed people. [ She says it blithely, apparently beyond the point where such a thought bothers her. The scythe they’d found in his room is fresh in her mind still, ok. ] Do you think he keeps trophies? [ They might find them. That would be gross. She turns over a paperweight in her hands. ] Do you think he’s gonna kill Derek?

[ex_question191]

Nobody can kill Derek.

[ he doesn't mean it in the overly protective aggressive way, though, so much as the "that guy is a cockroach" way. given the amount of people who've been out for his blood, he's pretty sure nick would have to be a seriously impressive serial killer to knock derek down so badly he doesn't get up again. ]

[ he goes through three drawers in rapid succession, pulling nothing but a mess of files and paperclips and stationary. he picks up a rubber band ball, tosses it a few inches into the air, catches it. ]

Maybe he doesn't keep anything at work. You know, under the noses of all the freaking officers of the law.

[immuno]

[ At this point, Lydia’s only half-listening to Stiles. It’s not a deliberate attempt to tune him out (though she’s certainly not above that in the interest of not wanting to strangle him sometimes), but knowing when to put relegate him to background noise has become an important skill. This is that time. ]

[ She reaches out to pick up a thick manila folder, brow furrowing, and notices that it’s not nearly as thick as she’d believed because what’s more interesting is the journal stacked beneath it. ]

[ The manila folder gets tossed aside onto the middle of the desk and she seizes the diary, turning towards Stiles. ]

Rethink that. [ She snaps her fingers like hey, stand up, get it together. Lydia doesn't do polite requests. ] Look at this.

[ She flips it open, scanning a number of traditional illustrations of grotesque monsters. Some of them have descriptions and notes scribbled in the margins, some don’t. Without realizing it, Lydia begins to leaf through hastily, looking for creatures that are familiar in name or appearance as if Nick might somehow have information that they don’t. ]

[ Which, yes, means not really pausing for Stiles to get an extended look if he feels the need. Whatever. She just assumes his split-second attention span will be able to keep up anyway as she continues to rotate the journal and examine the entries. ]

[ex_question191]

[ lydia says jump, stiles says how high, so while he rolls his eyes at that little click he does also, you know, stand up and get it together. he leans in, barely noticing their shoulders bumping as he checks out the journal. ]

[ stiles' split-second attention span does just fine, though the scrawled writing over the captioned pictures starts to increase his concern that the guy isn't just a serial killer or a nutjob. ]

It's a bestiary. Like the Argents had.

[ he's thinking of gerard, of course, the stupid run around to try and get a hold of it, but the moment he says that name in front of lydia his breath catches, and everything pauses for a moment. he hasn't— they haven't— ]

Excuse me, just what do you think you're doing there?

[ it's a middle aged woman in uniform, brows drawn down as she frowns at the two of them, the half-open drawers and the mess they've made of the desk. stiles' brain restarts as adrenaline kicks hard. ]

Uh, we're just— I work here.

[ stiles fishes out his "civilian employee" pass to show her. ]

[connate]

[ Stiles being at his desk, not strictly weird. Lydia being there with him is more so, and it takes about three seconds for Nick to clock the journal that's laid out between them.

Nick stalls in the doorway of the station for a few seconds, coffee in hand, and it's half instinct that causes his hearing to focus. He catches the tail end of a sentence before another officer blocks his view. Nothing useful— a name, maybe.

It was just a matter of time. And it's not so much panic that pulls him up short as a very acute sense of inconvenience, because this is not the way he wanted to approach this. "Never" had kind of been the ideal timeline on that one. Letting the kids fend for themselves with the other officer is an option that crosses his mind, but the worst case scenario there is that someone else gets a hold of the journal. Someone who doesn't have werewolves and whatever the hell Lydia is, so— ] It's fine. I asked him to grab some files for me.

[ The interruption's offered as he steps up behind the other officer, and she doesn't argue. There's a mildly aggrieved look towards Stiles, then a nod to Nick, and then he watches as she moves on.

One beat of silence, then two, then— ] Find anything interesting?

[ He's looking straight at them, not the journal. It's still a rhetorical (and deeply unimpressed) question. ]

[immuno]

[ Lydia’s mouth opens and she turns to look at Stiles, something pained and vulnerable in her eyes that she has managed and held back until now. Now it looks like it’s tearing her apart from the inside and she’s just barely holding onto it. Something in her expression snaps when the officer interrupts, though, and it’s all gone the moment her head whips towards them, replaced by an acute sense of panic.

Her eyes shut briefly in a moment’s relief when Stiles flashes his badge. Just when the officer looks ready to argue, though, Nick steps in.

Something about how calmly he handles all of this, the way he never breaks his stride in addressing them, sends a chill through her, and she’s sure she’s swallowed her tongue.

Lydia lifts the bestiary to press it against her chest, clutching it there like no you can’t have it back, we know now. ]

You’re a hunter.

[ Funny how she manages to make it sound like an accusation. ]

We found your weapons. [ Sadly, more hunters are like Gerard and Kate than Allison and her dad. Nothing about the realization feels comforting, as it stands. ]

[ex_question191]

[ stiles' first thought is oh thank god when nick steps in and gets them out of trouble, because stiles definitely didn't have an excuse for why lydia was there or why they'd been rifling through nick's stuff. not a believable one, anyway. ]

[ but their deus ex machina is only relieving until he registers the way nick is looking at them, caught in the act. ]

[ is he going to try and kill them? he's definitely gonna try and kill them. but probably not in the middle of a police station. stiles clenches his hands. ]

Yeah, and your days of using them are over.

[connate]

[ The journal's one thing, the weapons are... a problem. Nick's brow furrows as he processes that news, expression darkening. The real problem is that they aren't actually wrong. Hunter's kind of a vague term, but it's on the right wavelength.

Stiles's response causes a flicker of confusion to cross his features, then he casts a quick glance over his shoulder to the rest of the station. It's quiet, just not quiet enough. Not for a conversation like this, anyway, and when Nick looks back to them he places a hand on the desk, leaning forward and lowering his voice. ] I'm not going to hurt you.

[ He says it like he's used to having to say it, words more firm than sensitive. And after a slight beat, a shot in the dark: ] Or Derek. I don't hunt anyone unless they give me a reason to.

[ Another officer passes by the desk, earning a distracted glance from Nick. ] Can we do this somewhere else?