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

[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?

[immuno]

[ Luckily, Lydia’s frustration comes out gritted through her teeth. She’s spitting, but at least she’s relatively hushed about it. ]

Oh? Where would you like to go? A dark alley? Maybe a quarry where you won’t have to drag the bodies far.

[ On second thought, taunting the serial killer may not have been her best plan, but she doesn’t feel especially sorry about it either. They’re a lot safer here than anywhere else he wants to take this. ]

[ex_question191]

[ stiles touches her arm lightly, be cool, sodapop, because she looks like she's about to claw nick's eyes out, and he wants to hear more about who he will and won't attack — and how derek's name came up so quickly in this conversation. ]

[ also, he'd like not to lose his job. it's a good job. ]

Maybe one of the interview rooms?

[ he gestures to the windows along one wall, blinds on the other side of the glass pulled down. and as a side note, to lydia: ]

I don't think he can actually murder us while we're still at a police station.

[connate]

I'm not going to murder you. [ Somewhere between incredulous and annoyed. See also: things he used to have to say once a week, getting kind of old. But even if the phrasing's less than ideal, the suggestion's still progress. Nick straightens and steps back from the desk slightly, and while the implication is that he's fine with following Stiles's suggestion, it's also him backing off; the gesture's meant to be placating while he waits to see how Lydia responds.

There isn't really a backup plan. Probably let them walk out; it's not like they've done anything wrong, strictly speaking — or at least nothing he wouldn't have done in their place. ]

[immuno]

[ Nick doesn’t get a second glance. Turning, Lydia offers Stiles her full attention, raking her eyes over his face as she tries to evaluate if she’s actually going to listen to him or continue to be stubborn. ]

[ Honestly, the second option is still pretty tempting. ]

[ Sighing, she rolls her eyes, head lolling to either side a moment as she finally moves towards the interview room, keep the journal pressed to her chest and closing her free hand around Stiles’ wrist to tug him after her. ]

[ex_question191]

[ aaaand off we go. okay then. stiles basically just stumbles along after her, trying not to obviously have two left feet. he shoots a rueful look at nick, to demonstrate he has zero control over what's happening here. ]

[ obviously he's resigned himself to good cop today. ]

[ the moment the door closes behind them, stiles goes and twists the blinds so they're slotted horizontally, so it's possible to see in and out. the room is pretty soundproofed, so just in case they are about to get threatened with whatever the concealable version of a scythe is... ]

[connate]

[ So the thing about interview rooms is Nick's used to acting a certain way in them. Dominating the room, asking the questions— it's kind of routine, and it takes a conscious effort not to fall into it now.

He ends up on the other side of the table for the sake of giving them plenty of space, and he takes a few seconds to weigh his options. There's no obvious tension on his end; very mild annoyance, maybe, but that's it until something else occurs to him. ] What did you do with them?

[ It's not like he's used the weapons since he's been here, but he's gotten more used to his aunt's inheritance than he'd like to admit. The idea of not even having those after everything else lends some genuine concern to his voice, slightly urgent. ]

[immuno]

Threw a bonfire.

[ She says it blandly like that’s the dumbest question she’s ever heard. Her eyes roll up briefly and she leans back against the glass. ]

How is that your biggest concern here?

[ex_question191]

[ stiles stops fidgeting with the blinds and paces instead, more agitated than lydia is, though he also keeps his distance from nick. ]

Why did you even have a freaking scythe? I mean, okay, some people like to keep a gun in their bottom drawer, I get that, but farming instruments do kind of give off a creepy slasher movie vibe.

[connate]

It isn't mine. [ He just took it off of a dead guy he killed, it's fine. What were you saying about trophies?? Nick's obviously agitated by the flippant responses, but he stays where he is, keeping it to a look of mild annoyance.

But being terse isn't going to accomplish much, here, so after a reluctant pause: ] The scythe belonged to a Reaper. They hunt Grimms, which is what I am.

[ Normal sentences. He says it like he's explaining something from a textbook, tone direct. ]

[immuno]

... Seriously?

[ She looks between Nick and Stiles like IS ANYONE GOING TO POINT OUT THE OBVIOUS JOKE HERE. ]

A Reaper that hunts Grimms? A grim reaper gave you that?

[ Wait. The sarcasm drains steadily out of her expression and she tilts her head towards Nick, prying gaze boring holes straight through him. She misses the days when the only time grim and reaper could possibly enter the same sentence was when she was planning a (figuratively) killer Halloween party. ]

... That's how it happened, isn't it? This one didn't just hunt you, it got you.

[ex_question191]

[ stiles feels like he's rapidly losing track of this conversation. ]

Isn't a Grimm like, the big black dog from Harry Potter?

[ squinting at nick like he might pull a Sirius and turn into a dog. ]

[connate]

What? [ Nick's turn to lose track of the conversation. He shoots Stiles a quick and intensely confused look. ] No, I'm not a... dog from Harry Potter.

[ Possibly the dumbest thing he's ever said, which is saying something. Thanks, Stiles. He only belatedly realizes that Lydia's question is probably the more important one, here, and he attempts to school his expression into something more patient. ] And no. He didn't.

[ He doesn't say outright that it was the other way around, but the implication's obvious. Instead he continues with the definitions, trying to stay on topic— and maybe steer Lydia away from fixating on the reaper. ] Grimms can see what other people can't. We see people for what they really are, whether they want us to or not. [ A hesitant beat, then another chance. ] How well do you know Derek?

[ He's pretty sure they know exactly what he's getting at, given a few obvious jokes re: animal handling, but playing it safe. Ish. ]

[immuno]

We’re close.

[ Her tone is hard and unforgiving, even if she wouldn’t ever actually use that descriptor for their relationship in honesty. They are reluctant allies at best, and actively sabotaging one another at worst, but she comes up firmly on his side in this Nick situation and doesn’t want to give him any wiggle room to try and pry in that. Not now that she’s ~seen what she’s seen.~ ]

[ex_question191]

[ at least it's not "mentor". stiles gives lydia a look like, are you? because just how close is "close", right? but he doesn't contradict her, doesn't even laugh. they're close enough to know what derek truly is. ]

So what is it you think you know about him, huh?

[connate]

[ And he could absolutely play it safe with Derek's secrets, here, except he already knows that Lydia is some kind of zombie radar, so fuck it. ]

I know he isn't human.

[ Very direct, maybe even slightly challenging. If they're going to run roughshod over his secrets, he'll do the same right back. ]

[immuno]

[ Lydia considers him for a moment, weighing that response, then turns her attention fully to Stiles as if she's writing Nick off entirely. The move is entirely calculated to bait more out of him, but she's a frighteningly good actress (and it helps that she routinely writes people off anyway). ]

He doesn't know anything. If the best he can do is 'not human,' this was a complete waste of our time.

[ Maybe she's a good actress because the annoyance, at least, is genuine. ]

[ex_question191]

[ stiles is pretty familiar with the complete and total dismissal lydia is hitting nick with. intimately familiar, actually. plenty of first hand experience. he feels for the guy, a tiny bit. buuut not enough to not play along. ]

Yeahhhh I'm not buying any of this.

[connate]

[ It works, at least to the extent that his patience wears thin at the dismissive responses. As in he actually rolls his eyes, that kind of impatient; not very mature, but whatever. They're teenagers.

About half a second after Stiles's remark, directed at Lydia: ] I know he's a werewolf.

[ He doesn't know he's a werewolf. Nick knows Derek looks like Monroe, but Monroe laughed in his face when he called him a werewolf, so who knows. He's just banking on the idea that it's a more recognizable term than blutbad and not totally off the mark. The delivery's short and annoyed. ]

[immuno]

[ Oh. Hm.

Lydia stops, whipping her head towards him, scrutinizing and confrontational all at once. ]

And what are you planning to do about it?

[ex_question191]

Whoa, whoa, whoa, who says he's doing anything about it?

[ stiles holds up his hands. like, let's not provoke the guy, here. ]

Listen, Nick, we're sorry we thought you were a serial killer.

[ or, stiles is, because, you know, there's the whole "employed by the police department at which nick works due to nick's assistance" thing that's kinda sweetened him to the guy. ]

But you don't hunt werewolves, right? Say that's not a thing that you do.

[connate]

[ Oh my god why are teenagers so dramatic. Stiles interrupts before Nick can give Lydia an appropriately incredulous response, though the serial killer comment's only barely an improvement. ]

I don't hunt werewolves.

[ Followed by a conspicuous pause. Not necessarily because it's untrue; it is, though that's mostly because of semantics. Just for the sake of honesty: ] They don't even exist where I'm from.