Teen Wolf Fic - Pater Fidelis
Title: Pater Fidelis
Rating: G
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Word Count: 1,343
Summary: Sheriff Stilinski can't deny his suspicions any longer and calls in some help from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit.
Warnings/Notes: Crossover with Criminal Minds. Season 1 AU.
John knew what he had to do. The attack at the school that evening had been the last straw. He needed outside help. He couldn’t protect his home anymore and he had a sinking feeling his son was smack dab in the middle of it.
He gritted his teeth through writing out the request for aide from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, addressed to Jennifer Jareau.
*&*
The team touched down two days later at the small airstrip out in the northern edge of the county.
“Sheriff Stilinski? We spoke on the phone, my name is Jennifer Jareau, please call me JJ,” a petite blonde woman said, with a small smile as they shook hands.
The rest of the team made their introductions, or had their introductions made by senior members of the team. The Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner looked around the airstrip, determination set in his face. The youngest one, the Doctor- Dr. Reid, was rooting around in a messenger bag looking for something.
“I can take you all back to the station, help you set up, and then you can look at the crime scenes. Where we found the first body,” John starts to say and here Dr. Reid cuts in.
“Laura Hale, the sister of the man you arrested?” he asks with a slightly out of breath pace. It reminds John of Stiles and he quickly pushes that thought down. Best not to think of his son right now.
“Yes, that’s right. There’s an uncle in a coma, but otherwise, Derek is the last surviving Hale, from an electrical fire six years ago,” John explains.
“Once we’re at the station, the team will split up according to the designations we decided over on our way here,” Agent Hotchner says.
He lets the flare of territoriality wash through him and nods. He called them in for help and he’s not going to balk at FBI orders unless he actually has a reason. He really hopes he won’t have a reason.
*&*
Stiles isn’t there when he gets home at night.
There’s a note on the refrigerator though.
Studying at Scott’s. There’s meatloaf leftover, love you, - S
The meatloaf is one of the few healthy things Stiles makes him eat that he’ll actually eat without a fuss. It’s pretty good, Stiles makes rice and puts it in along with lean ground beef and bell peppers and other things. It’s a peace offering, is what it is.
He tries not to think that plenty of sociopaths and killers loved their folks, too. Or at least said they did.
He eats his dinner, standing, and looks out into his moonlit backyard.
*&*
“We’re looking for an Alpha male with a few subordinates. Most likely a little younger than him. None will have advanced education, will probably be day laborers, work menial, degrading jobs. There’s an interesting mix of preparation and havoc. The Alpha is intelligent, trying to be sloppy. There is a lot of aggression here. Laura Hale was overkill, as well as all the other victims. When confronted, they will try suicide by cop, thank you, any questions?” The team took turns giving their profile, like in a relay race where you’d hand off the baton to your racing group, almost.
Since none of the patrol had questions he gave the order for them to get to work.
The team had done interviews with every student at the high school, as well as the usual like gas attendants and the enigmatic veterinarian, Dr. Deaton.
They still haven’t located Derek Hale.
“Sheriff, I’d like to speak to you privately,” Agent Hotchner says softly.
“Sure,” John nods, heads to his office.
They go to his office and close the door. He sits in his chair and Agent Hotcher takes a chair across from his desk before speaking.
“You had suspicions about your son’s involvement before you called us here,” Agent Hotchner says calmly.
He can feel the blood draining from his face. “Yes, I did. He was everywhere I looked. I needed … after my wife died, it’s just been the two of us. I just need to know what I’m seeing isn’t what’s actually there, sir,” John tells him, honest and bare, giving voice to fears he doesn’t want to have.
“That is understandable,” Agent Hotchner says, and he seems sympathetic, features softened just a little. “But you know when we interviewed him about what happened to him and his friends that night at the school that he was evasive and lying. He’s a good liar, but you knew that. His friend, Scott McCall, is a worse liar, but they’re saying the same things. And they seem less confused than the three others who were with them. So whatever this is, it involves the two of them,” and here he goes grim again.
John nods. He’d figured the part about Scott after he’d watched Scott being interviewed by Dr. Reid along with a legal youth advocate. It had been fascinating watching the young man start soft on Scott and then go for the kill. Scott hadn’t deviated from his story but he got more and more flustered, clenching his fists and jaw.
They were clearly each other’s alibis, just like they’d always been.
It was good to know some things hadn’t changed.
*&*
Stiles ends up helping him with the investigation. He hadn’t wanted to let his son help, least of all because his son is looping around his suspect lest like a whirlpool. But it had felt good to just spend time with his son again, feel the excitement of getting close to figuring something out, together.
He wakes up with a hangover, which John guesses serves himself right.
*&*
Things are quiet until the school dance.
Lydia Martin gets rushed to the hospital, animal attack.
He starts yelling at the Whittemore boy only to find out from the smug brat that Stiles had been her date.
It only gets worse when Stiles shows up, sweating and a little bloody and a lot anxious.
Jackson and Stiles disappear when he’s distracted, before he can order that his son not leave the premises.
Dr. Reid was going to interview Lydia, again, when she woke up, but he takes Agent Morgan with him to follow the boys instead. John doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not.
*&*
He stares blankly at them.
Dr. Reid looks sweaty, feverish from where he’s curled into Agent Morgan’s side on the couch in his home. Derek Hale is standing next to the television, back to the corner, radiating discomfort. Scott and Stiles stand like gangly horses together in their messed up formal wear.
“Werewolves,” he says, testing out the word. Maybe it’s not too late for early retirement, after all. He can’t afford Betty Ford, but he’s sure the county could put him somewhere hygienic, if he’s going to go crazy.
“Yes,” Derek Hale says, like the words are being forced out of him.
“And you and Scott and now Dr. Reid are all werewolves?” he has to ask again.
“If he lives, yes,” Derek says. It’s amazing how little inflection the man has, really.
Agent Morgan looks up sharply at that, frowning.
“He could die?” Morgan looks angry now.
“There's a 50-50 chance of survival,” Derek concedes.
“And this whole mess was your uncle’s doing?” John asks again. He can’t help himself.
“Absolutely,” Stiles says vehemently. “That guy was super creeper, fyi.” Scott nods so fast his hair flops around his face.
“You are both grounded. And tonight I will have beer and you aren’t allowed to look at me with your disappointed face, Stiles. Now everyone who doesn’t live here needs to go. Agent Morgan, your team and I will discuss tomorrow what will happen next. Come on, I’ll help you get Dr. Reid to your SUV,” John starts directing everyone out.
He catches the look Stiles shoots to Derek, when he thinks no one is looking. He sees the one Derek shoots back. He's seen that face on his son before, it's the look he gets when he talks about the Martin girl. He wonders if that's how this started, a simple crush.
*&*
Later, after everyone is gone and Stiles is actually asleep, John allows himself to flood with stark relief that his son isn’t a killer, isn’t someone John didn’t raise him to be.
He may not be the best parent, but he thinks this counts for something.
Everything else can be dealt with in the morning.
Comment where you wish.
Rating: G
Pairing: Derek/Stiles
Word Count: 1,343
Summary: Sheriff Stilinski can't deny his suspicions any longer and calls in some help from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit.
Warnings/Notes: Crossover with Criminal Minds. Season 1 AU.
John knew what he had to do. The attack at the school that evening had been the last straw. He needed outside help. He couldn’t protect his home anymore and he had a sinking feeling his son was smack dab in the middle of it.
He gritted his teeth through writing out the request for aide from the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI, addressed to Jennifer Jareau.
*&*
The team touched down two days later at the small airstrip out in the northern edge of the county.
“Sheriff Stilinski? We spoke on the phone, my name is Jennifer Jareau, please call me JJ,” a petite blonde woman said, with a small smile as they shook hands.
The rest of the team made their introductions, or had their introductions made by senior members of the team. The Unit Chief, Aaron Hotchner looked around the airstrip, determination set in his face. The youngest one, the Doctor- Dr. Reid, was rooting around in a messenger bag looking for something.
“I can take you all back to the station, help you set up, and then you can look at the crime scenes. Where we found the first body,” John starts to say and here Dr. Reid cuts in.
“Laura Hale, the sister of the man you arrested?” he asks with a slightly out of breath pace. It reminds John of Stiles and he quickly pushes that thought down. Best not to think of his son right now.
“Yes, that’s right. There’s an uncle in a coma, but otherwise, Derek is the last surviving Hale, from an electrical fire six years ago,” John explains.
“Once we’re at the station, the team will split up according to the designations we decided over on our way here,” Agent Hotchner says.
He lets the flare of territoriality wash through him and nods. He called them in for help and he’s not going to balk at FBI orders unless he actually has a reason. He really hopes he won’t have a reason.
*&*
Stiles isn’t there when he gets home at night.
There’s a note on the refrigerator though.
Studying at Scott’s. There’s meatloaf leftover, love you, - S
The meatloaf is one of the few healthy things Stiles makes him eat that he’ll actually eat without a fuss. It’s pretty good, Stiles makes rice and puts it in along with lean ground beef and bell peppers and other things. It’s a peace offering, is what it is.
He tries not to think that plenty of sociopaths and killers loved their folks, too. Or at least said they did.
He eats his dinner, standing, and looks out into his moonlit backyard.
*&*
“We’re looking for an Alpha male with a few subordinates. Most likely a little younger than him. None will have advanced education, will probably be day laborers, work menial, degrading jobs. There’s an interesting mix of preparation and havoc. The Alpha is intelligent, trying to be sloppy. There is a lot of aggression here. Laura Hale was overkill, as well as all the other victims. When confronted, they will try suicide by cop, thank you, any questions?” The team took turns giving their profile, like in a relay race where you’d hand off the baton to your racing group, almost.
Since none of the patrol had questions he gave the order for them to get to work.
The team had done interviews with every student at the high school, as well as the usual like gas attendants and the enigmatic veterinarian, Dr. Deaton.
They still haven’t located Derek Hale.
“Sheriff, I’d like to speak to you privately,” Agent Hotchner says softly.
“Sure,” John nods, heads to his office.
They go to his office and close the door. He sits in his chair and Agent Hotcher takes a chair across from his desk before speaking.
“You had suspicions about your son’s involvement before you called us here,” Agent Hotchner says calmly.
He can feel the blood draining from his face. “Yes, I did. He was everywhere I looked. I needed … after my wife died, it’s just been the two of us. I just need to know what I’m seeing isn’t what’s actually there, sir,” John tells him, honest and bare, giving voice to fears he doesn’t want to have.
“That is understandable,” Agent Hotchner says, and he seems sympathetic, features softened just a little. “But you know when we interviewed him about what happened to him and his friends that night at the school that he was evasive and lying. He’s a good liar, but you knew that. His friend, Scott McCall, is a worse liar, but they’re saying the same things. And they seem less confused than the three others who were with them. So whatever this is, it involves the two of them,” and here he goes grim again.
John nods. He’d figured the part about Scott after he’d watched Scott being interviewed by Dr. Reid along with a legal youth advocate. It had been fascinating watching the young man start soft on Scott and then go for the kill. Scott hadn’t deviated from his story but he got more and more flustered, clenching his fists and jaw.
They were clearly each other’s alibis, just like they’d always been.
It was good to know some things hadn’t changed.
*&*
Stiles ends up helping him with the investigation. He hadn’t wanted to let his son help, least of all because his son is looping around his suspect lest like a whirlpool. But it had felt good to just spend time with his son again, feel the excitement of getting close to figuring something out, together.
He wakes up with a hangover, which John guesses serves himself right.
*&*
Things are quiet until the school dance.
Lydia Martin gets rushed to the hospital, animal attack.
He starts yelling at the Whittemore boy only to find out from the smug brat that Stiles had been her date.
It only gets worse when Stiles shows up, sweating and a little bloody and a lot anxious.
Jackson and Stiles disappear when he’s distracted, before he can order that his son not leave the premises.
Dr. Reid was going to interview Lydia, again, when she woke up, but he takes Agent Morgan with him to follow the boys instead. John doesn’t know if he’s relieved or not.
*&*
He stares blankly at them.
Dr. Reid looks sweaty, feverish from where he’s curled into Agent Morgan’s side on the couch in his home. Derek Hale is standing next to the television, back to the corner, radiating discomfort. Scott and Stiles stand like gangly horses together in their messed up formal wear.
“Werewolves,” he says, testing out the word. Maybe it’s not too late for early retirement, after all. He can’t afford Betty Ford, but he’s sure the county could put him somewhere hygienic, if he’s going to go crazy.
“Yes,” Derek Hale says, like the words are being forced out of him.
“And you and Scott and now Dr. Reid are all werewolves?” he has to ask again.
“If he lives, yes,” Derek says. It’s amazing how little inflection the man has, really.
Agent Morgan looks up sharply at that, frowning.
“He could die?” Morgan looks angry now.
“There's a 50-50 chance of survival,” Derek concedes.
“And this whole mess was your uncle’s doing?” John asks again. He can’t help himself.
“Absolutely,” Stiles says vehemently. “That guy was super creeper, fyi.” Scott nods so fast his hair flops around his face.
“You are both grounded. And tonight I will have beer and you aren’t allowed to look at me with your disappointed face, Stiles. Now everyone who doesn’t live here needs to go. Agent Morgan, your team and I will discuss tomorrow what will happen next. Come on, I’ll help you get Dr. Reid to your SUV,” John starts directing everyone out.
He catches the look Stiles shoots to Derek, when he thinks no one is looking. He sees the one Derek shoots back. He's seen that face on his son before, it's the look he gets when he talks about the Martin girl. He wonders if that's how this started, a simple crush.
*&*
Later, after everyone is gone and Stiles is actually asleep, John allows himself to flood with stark relief that his son isn’t a killer, isn’t someone John didn’t raise him to be.
He may not be the best parent, but he thinks this counts for something.
Everything else can be dealt with in the morning.
Comment where you wish.