Teen Wolf: Void Stiles

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[Stiles Pov]

If Bambi and Rudolph had a baby, and they decided it was such a disaster they threw it to a pack of monkeys, you'd get Scott Sucks-at-Costumes McCall.

I couldn't help but sigh as I looked over at my best friend.

"You know this is a terrible idea, right?" I asked, glancing at the unconscious Deaton slumped in the wheelchair.

His face was a mess of bruises, and yet we were still planning to wheel him into a school full of teenagers dressed in ridiculous animal costumes. "What if he actually knows who the Alpha is?"

Scott shook his head as he pulled open the Jeep's back door. "He doesn't. Deaton can't even stand to see animals hurt, let alone help kill someone."

I raised an eyebrow, pulling Deaton into the backseat with a grunt.

"Yeah, because that totally screams 'innocent.'" I locked the wheels into place. "You just described half the serial killers in America. Loves animals, hates people. Sounds like a prime suspect to me."

Scott shot me a tired look as he closed the door. "I know him, Stiles. And trust me, he's not like that."

I climbed into the driver's seat and buckled up, watching Scott slide into the passenger side. "But we're still going through with this plan, even though we both know it's stupid?"

Scott sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Do you have a better idea?"

I tapped the steering wheel, staring out at the dimly lit street. "No, but I'm pretty sure we could come up with something better than summoning a murderous werewolf to a school dance."

I shot him a look and added, "And seriously, what the hell is that costume?"

Scott crossed his arms defensively as I hit the gas, pulling away from the clinic. "Don't judge me! I was in a rush. The Halloween aisle was right there, and I just grabbed the first thing I saw. Which, by the way, is more than I can say for you. Where's your costume?"

I kept my eyes on the road, ignoring his glare. My party attire consisted of black jeans and a matching black t-shirt—simple, effective, non-costumey.

"I was busy all day going through Tara's research on potential suspects, thanks to her figuring out the Alpha's pattern."

As I drove, my eyes kept darting to the rearview mirror, nervously checking on Deaton in the back.

Every time the Jeep hit a bump and Deaton groaned, I felt a little jolt of anxiety. This plan really didn't sit well with me, but we were in too deep now.

When we finally arrived at the school, the parking lot was full of cars. A few guys with face paint and animal costumes were hanging out, leaning against their vehicles.

Derek's black Camaro was parked off to the side, away from the main crowd, I pulled up next to it and parked the Jeep.

Derek stepped out of the shadows almost immediately, his gaze intense.

"What's the plan?" He asked, voice clipped.

Scott ran a hand through his hair, his reindeer antlers bouncing slightly. "You said I have some kind of connection to the Alpha, right? I'm going to test that—see how strong it is."

I pointed at Deaton, who was still slumped in the back.

"You keep an eye on him." I told Derek.

With that, I followed Scott into the chaos that was the school party.

~Would you be mine? Would you be my baby tonight?~

~Could be kissing my fruit punch lips in the bright sunshine~

The music was loud, vibrating through the speakers set up on the basketball court. A drink and snack stand was off to the side, and a makeshift dance floor sat under a disco ball, spinning lazily overhead.

The scene was a mess of flashing lights, neon colors, and costumes ranging from ridiculous to even more ridiculous.

"Okay, quick question." I said, surveying the chaotic dance floor where people dressed as various animals were thrashing around like they were having seizures. "What are you going to do if the Alpha doesn't show up?"

Scott glanced around, then sighed. "I don't know."

I raised an eyebrow. "Great. And what if the Alpha does show up?"

Scott's shoulders slumped as he gave me the same answer. "I don't know."

I clapped him on the back, offering him a sarcastic smile. "Solid plan, Absolutely bulletproof."

Scott just shook his head and started heading toward the school's main corridor. "Distract the crowd while I go check out the principal's office."

I turned toward the dance floor, already regretting everything about this night.

"Hey, you!" I shouted, pointing at some random guy dressed as a giraffe. "Guess what? I'm about to roast you so hard, you'll be begging for your mom by the end of the night!"

And that is how my night of chaos officially began.

—----

[Scott's Pov]

I exhaled deeply as I moved away from the crowd, but I froze mid-step when I heard a familiar laugh near the exit.

The sound triggered a flood of memories, and before I knew it, my face flushed. I glanced over to see Lydia standing with Jackson, casually holding a drink.

Lydia was dressed in a long cape that barely concealed the black mini shorts and bra underneath. It was like she'd thrown on a slutty Batwoman costume, minus the mask.

She looked... well, incredible, and I couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and intimidation.

For a brief second, her gaze flicked toward me, but it passed just as quickly, like I wasn't even there. She was completely absorbed in the conversation with Jackson.

I blinked, snapping myself out of it.

'Not the time to get distracted, Scott.' I shook my head, pushing the thoughts aside. I had bigger things to worry about.

"Yeah! Party!!" A loud shout brought me back to reality, and I turned just in time to see Stiles in the middle of the dance floor, holding a drink and grinning like a maniac. Next to him, some poor guy ran off screaming for his mom.

Yup, Stiles was definitely holding up his end of the plan.

—-----

[Stiles Pov]

"Give me an 'Ooo!'" I shouted, and some of the crowd howled in response.

I stepped off the stage, catching a glimpse of Scott disappearing into the corridor, and was immediately intercepted by Allison.

Dressed as an elven archer, complete with what I hoped were fake arrows in a quiver on her back, she leaned in with a soft smile.

"Hey." She whispered, topping off my half-empty drink with hers.

"Hey, Tauriel." I replied, grinning. "Want to hear a dwarven story?"

She chuckled, giving me a quick once-over. "And I see you're dressed as... Mr. Nobody?"

"Ouch." I clutched my chest dramatically. "That stings."

She stepped closer, her eyes playful.

"Maybe I can heal it with these elven hands." She whispered, pressing her fingers lightly against my chest.

I swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was leaning in. Just as she tilted forward, about to get even closer—

"Hey, Stiles!" Amber's voice interrupted as she popped up between us, effectively creating space between Allison and me.

Amber was dressed in black shorts and a strapless brown crop top, a spiked choker around her neck, her eyes lined with dark eyeliner.

"Amber." I mumbled to myself, my gaze momentarily lingering on her smooth shoulders and pale neck.

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Amber asked, turning to Allison with a mischievous smile.

"Actually, yes—" Allison began, but Amber cut her off.

"Sorry, don't care. I need him for a moment." She said, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the crowd and onto the dance floor.

I mouthed an apology to Allison as Amber dragged me away.

Once we reached the center of the floor, Amber spun around with a teasing smile.

"I see you didn't follow the theme." She remarked, eyeing my outfit.

"Yeah, I was busy." I replied sheepishly, scratching the back of my head.

Just then, the song changed.

~Oh, don't you dare look back.~

~Just keep your eyes on me.~

~I said, you're holding back.~

~She said, shut up and dance with me.~

Without missing a beat, Amber wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling herself closer. I bent down slightly to match her height, placing my hands on her waist as we moved to the rhythm of the song.

"Stiles?" She murmured, her eyes locking onto mine.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of my costume?" She whispered in my ear, her warm breath tickling my neck.

"You look like an absolute little pet." I whispered back, letting my hand drift slightly lower toward her hip.

She bit her lip, trying to hide the blush creeping across her cheeks.

"Oh, really?" She teased, pressing her thighs against mine. "Shall we start now?"

I blinked, caught off guard by her words. "Wait... what do you mean?"

For a moment, she hesitated, as if realizing something. Then she chuckled softly and planted a quick kiss on my cheek before stepping back, her smile playful.

"Sorry, that's nothing, enjoy your night, Stiles." She said with a wink. "Because I will."

Before I could respond, she vanished into the crowd.

*Did I just miss something?* I wondered to myself, slightly bewildered.

A tap on my shoulder brought me back to reality. I turned around to find a girl dressed as a literal anti-social black cat.

"Tara?" I muttered, pressing my lips together to suppress a grin.

The whiskers and paw gloves were one thing, but the cat ears? They were a little too cute on her, completely out of place with her usual demeanor.

"You look cute." I remarked.

"You look plain." She replied sharply.

"Thank you." I nodded, unfazed. "Wanna dance?"

"If I can stab you with swords, sure." She shot back, but still took my hand.

I pulled her in close, and as the music shifted once again, we started to dance.

~If I break my heart and it doesn't mend~

~I'm gonna be okay in the end~

~Dance, dance, dance, then it's not gonna hurt~

~I'm gonna dance, dance, dance, then it's not gonna hurt~

Tara twirled gracefully in my arms as we waltzed, completely outshining me with every step. I tried my best to keep up, but she was a natural.

"Wow, you can actually dance." I commented, a bit in awe.

She glared at me, clearly not appreciating the surprise in my voice.

As the song came to an end, I pulled her close, much closer than before. Our faces were just inches apart, our breaths syncing as we stared into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, a loud howl echoed through the school from the speakers.

*Awoooooo!*

A few drunk guys in the party joined in, mimicking the sound.

Tara groaned, her glare intensifying. "Tell me that wasn't Scott."

I avoided eye contact, my silence confirming her suspicion.

"If stupidity had a scale from 0 to 100, you guys would always find a way to break it." She muttered.

I replied with a shrug.

"We're overachievers."