Chapter Four

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By morning, the sheriff and a couple of other police cars had shown up to the Hale house and me, Scott and Stiles were left leaning against Roscoe. Derek was led to the car with his hands cuffed behind his back and he turned his head to look at us a heavy glare settled on his face. It was quite a terrifying glare, and yet despite the evidence of him killing someone and everything I still felt oddly drawn to him and that it was incredibly attractive. Not that I would admit it out loud in a million years.

As the police all left the car to speak to god knows who, I looked around before walking over to the police car and with another check to make sure no-one was looking I slipped into the passenger seat. Derek seemed to look paler than usual, like he'd had no sleep. I'm sure it mirrored my own appearance since after finding the body I really had no sleep.

"Hey..." my voice seemed to break. Why was I here again? His eyes were beautiful, "have your eyes always been that green?" I asked finding myself unable to not say it, "nope, no," I interrupted my own rambling, "that's not why I'm here. I'm here to say that I had no part in doing this...actually I did have a part, but I didn't want to do this. I'm just saying because when you get out I don't want to be added to the statistics of human deaths caused by dogs... because that just feels like a pitiful way to go... you know?" I rambled. He didn't say anything, but he also didn't blink. I think it would have been easier to speak if he'd actually blink. After a moment, I cleared my throat, "right, okay..." I muttered about to open the door to get out when his voice spoke.

"Did you work it out?"

"What?" I asked turning to look at him confused, "the play. Did you work out how to get out of the corner?" He asked and I tilted my head trying to ignore the heat which was rising to my face.

"I didn't bother to try," I lied and a smirk tugged on his lips.

"Liar."

"Nope, I'm not lying."

"Don't bother hiding it. I can tell when anyone's lying, especially you." That wasn't ominous at all.

"Why?"

"Do you feel it?" He asked and I turned my head to look at him confused. "The bond? Some humans don't feel it...although some can, it really depends."

"W-what?" I don't think my voice had been so quiet in years. Before he could clarify, Stiles opened the door.

"Gracie, out. I have words to say," I rolled my eyes but nether the less took the necessary distraction to climb out of the car and Stiles took my place. I looked around again to make sure that no-one was looking before I stepped away.

Seeing the Sheriff approach the car, I turned away scratching the back of my head as if it was going to hide me from the view of him. He reached into the car grabbing onto Stiles and yanking him out and placing him next to me, "there. Stand." He growled, "what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'm just trying to help," Stiles assured.

"Okay, well, how 'bout you help me understand exactly how you came upon this?"

"We were looking for Scott's inhaler..." Stiles began and I narrowed my eyes looking at him questioningly. That didn't account for how it got there.

"Which he dropped when?"

"The other night."

"The other night... when you were out here, looking for the first half of the body?" Stilinski asked crossing his arms with his eyes narrowed and Stiles nodded.

"Yes."

"The night that you told me you were alone and Scott was at home?"

"Yes," he then realised what he'd said, "no. Oh crap."

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