Hoping for Heroes

Chapter 17

After hours of shopping, Stiles couldn't decide on a singular present, so he got as many as possible. The two are seated in Stiles' room, trying to figure out who the Kanima is targeting to pass the time. Stiles is seated at his desk while Harley is sat cross-legged on his bed. They work in silence until Stiles' dad comes to the door.

"Hey, watcha doing?" Sheriff Stilinski asks, peeking his head into the room. He scans it quickly, eyebrows raising in surprise when he sees Harley. "Hi, Harley. I didn't realize you two hung out."

Harley grins. "Hey, Mr. Stilinski. And I didn't either, to be honest."

"We're doing homework," Stiles says, not even looking up from the pages.

Mr. Stilinski nods, leaving for a moment, only to return again, looking more confused than before. "It's spring break." Stiles is silent, and Harley cringes. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm simply satisfying my own curiosity." His dad reaches across Stiles' desk to close the yearbook Stiles is flipping through. 

"We brought Harris in this morning for questioning," Mr. Stilinski explains. "They brought him in. And they're working on a warrant to arrest him for the murders."

"For all of them?"

"Enough of them."

"With what proof?"

"I'm sorry," Harley cuts in. "But why are you upset? Don't we want the murderer to be caught?"

Mr. Stilinski nods appreciatively at Harley. "Harris' tire tracks were seen on sight of multiple murders."

"That's not enough!" Stiles protests.

"It's good enough, Stiles."

"What about the concert promoter? What about Mr. Lahey? What does he have to do with Harris?"

"It doesn't matter."

Harley shoves her stuff into her bag, trying to be as quiet as possible. The men's attention is on her when she accidentally drops a book. She smiles sheepishly as she picks it up. "This sounds like a conversation I shouldn't be a part of. I'm headed out. I'll see you later Stiles. Nice to meet you Mr. Stilinksi!" She scrambles out the door, and as she's leaving she hears Mr. Stilinski from behind him.

"She's so quiet, it's like she's not even there."

Later that night, Harley walks up the front steps alongside Allison, reaching Stiles and Scott.

"Uh, Jackson's not here," Allison murmurs. 

"Yeah, no one's here," Stiles says, looking around. 

"Maybe it's just early," Scott suggests.

"Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia's turned into the town wack job."

"Stiles!" Harley hisses, shoving him.

"Well, we have to do something, because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks," Allison sighs. 

"Speak for yourself," Harley scoffs.

"What?" Scott asks. "You've talked to her? When?" Harley shrugs half-heartedly.

"Here and there. Her friends all ditched her, so..."

"It doesn't matter," Scott says. "We don't owe her a party."

"What about the chance to get back to normal?" Allison asks.

"Normal?" Scott asks.

"She wouldn't be the town wack job if it wasn't for us." Harley nods softly in agreement. The group stares at her for a moment until Scott speaks up.