Chapter Text
Looking out at the rolling hills, Stiles sighed loudly. Scotland? Out of all the boring-ass places to go, the Pack chose here? Why couldn’t it have been someplace where they could be awesome? Oh, right, because Derek, the supreme overlord of all things brooding and werewolfy, wanted them to ‘set their sights on something bigger than a dead-end small town.
“What’s got you so glum, Stilinski?” Erica sat next to him, popping her blueberry gum right in his ear, “Because I can smell the disdain coming off of you in waves. And if I can smell it, Derek can, too. And do you really want him to come back here and chew you out?”
“Erica? You’re not helping me like this trip.” Oddly enough, Stiles had been subdued for most of this trip. Mostly because his mother’s family was Scottish, and he hated thinking of her when he could be dead at any given moment. He didn't have much time to ponder his mortality and head right into an existential crisis, for as Erica got up, the mastermind behind this whole trip sat next to him. How fucking wonderful.
“Stiles.” And there were the eyebrows. Stiles looked back and shrugged. “This was meant to be a trip to get away from all the shit with Jackson. I, for one, thought you might want this. But you know why else we’re here? The Faerie King is in town and I need her help.”
“Her?” Stiles tilted his head. “That would make her a king. Unless,” He thought out loud. “Fae think of a king as just a ruler, instead of assigning genders.”
“What gave that away?” Derek’s voice was dry as he leaned back. “You’re here because Scott won’t try to kill the others when you’re around.” There was a bored stare leveled at Stiles and he shivered under the gaze, wondering what it was that made those eyes so intense.
“Well, sourpuss? Thanks for the vote of confidence, because I can’t physically stop Scott, you know that.” There was a hard jolt as the bus ran over something.
Isaac stepped out, looking at the back. “You guys may want to come check this out!” Stiles was the first to follow, staring at the mangled corpse of a young woman. Surprisingly, the weirdest part wasn’t the heart laying half-eaten next to her body, but the inverted cross on her forehead. “Looks kind of Satanic.”
“Oh really?” Stiles Chuckled dryly. “What ever made you think that? The cross, or the partially cannibalized heart? I think we should look out for Psychologists who feed up food, they might be a cannibal. Like Hanni-”
Derek cut him off with a growl and a slap to the back of the head. “You find the worst time to make jokes. And this is not our problem, so we need to get back on the road!” he pointed at the bus, which Isaac dutifully stepped back into.
Stiles, however, managed to stare the larger man down. “I say we stay and investigate. This is obviously not human. Don’t you wanna know? Because I do.”
“Fine, Stiles, you get your wish. We can all stay and check it out. You’re on research duty though.” As always, Stiles sighed and dragged his feet back to the jeep. He supposed Derek was right though, There was research that needed to be done, and quickly, for that matter.
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The young boy watched the bus drive off, frowning heavily. How did one of them get so far out here and start killing people. He sighed, there was work to be done, and he knew that the new Hale pack and their humans would help him, no matter what.