{0.6}

"Prison"

***

"I always thought that if a bunch of cops came onto the field in the middle of lacrosse practice, I would be the one getting arrested." 

 "Honestly... same."

Stiles and Ollie stood side by side as they watched Isaac Lahey stand feet away, being interrogating by the police. Scott and Katrin were arguing about something when they approached the two boys, and Ollie had his eyes narrowed at Isaac's back as he spoke to Stiles's father. "Glad to know you have faith in me, Stilinski." 

 "Okay, my question is how many windows they have in the average police station," Katrin drawled as her and Scott walked over to Ollie, the redhead shooting him a look. "Like, is it mandatory to have at least one window in a holding cell?"

 Oliver blinked, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Why the hell would I know that?" 

 "It doesn't matter how much direct access he has," Scott began, his eyebrows furrowed in concern as he tried in vain to hear the words that the officer's were exchanging. "The full moon will be really bad... especially if it's his first one."

"We should just get rid of the fucking moon," Ollie said, tilting his head back to look up at the sky, squinting at the harsh rays of sunlight. "Who's idea was it to correspond werewolves with the moon? Because I want to stab them." 

 "I'm with you on that one," Scott mumbled, earning a cautious look from Katrin. Ollie had been tentative around Scott all day, but it seemed like he didn't have a serious case of The Assholes, so prehaps he was building up a tolerance to the effects full moon. At least, Ollie was seriously hoping that was the case. Full moons give him so much anxiety, that he was contemplating just staying home tonight and doing his very best to sleep. 

 Alas, his idiot friend just had to get bitten by a supernatural being. 

"How good are holding cells at holding people?" Scott asked, pinching the bridge of his nose and slowly shaking his head. Stiles shrugged. 

 "People? Good. Werewolves? Probably not that good."

Scott winced, turning to steal one more glance at Isaac Lahey, before looking back at the group with a grim look on his face. "Remember when I said that I didn't have the urge to maim and kill?" 

 Stiles nodded slowly, sharing a look with Ollie. "Yeah..."

"Well he does." 

***

Jackson didn't show up at chemistry that day, which was enough to rise Ollie's mood ever-so slightly. 

 He leaned his head onto his arm as he furiously filled in the answers to the hand-out that Harris had given them, his hand beginning to cramp from how fast he was trying to write. The thing about Ollie that annoyed him to no end, was that he was actually a pretty smart kid. The issue is that he is constantly tired from his lack of sleep, and he has the attention span of a hyperactive chipmunk. Add that on to the fact that he was constantly running around trying to avoid being murdered by werewolves, and you get a kid who can rarely manage to turn in his homework on time. 

 "Hey, what's the English word for-" he turned to Stiles, mumbling under his breath as the words became jumbled in his head. "Reacciones químicas estúpidas - chemicals!" He bowed his head as Harris turned to look at him, shooting the boys an annoyed look.

 "Hey, do you think it makes sense that teenagers have a better chance of surviving being bitten?" Stiles asked, leaning over as Ollie accidentally pressed down too hard and snapped his pencil in half. The boy paused for a moment, contemplating throwing it across the room in a fit of rage, before taking a deep breath and turning to look at Stiles. "Like, maybe being a teenager makes it easier?" 

 "I mean, does being a minor mean that your dad can't hold him?" He asked, reaching over Stiles to grab his pencil. "Like, is there some sort of rule against that or something?" 

 "Well, not unless they have solid evidence... or a witness." 

 Ollie glanced around to see what Stiles was looking at, only to see him glancing back at where Danny was sitting. The seat next to him - the one that was usually occupied by Jackson - was vacant. Ollie narrowed his eyes, knowing from past experience that wasn't a good sign, and turned to lean forward, tapping Scott's shoulder. "Hey, wolfie." 

 The boy turned around, squinting at Ollie, who nervously eyed Harris, who was scrawling something on the board. "What's up?" 

 "What are the chances of it going catastrophically wrong, and Isaac killing people if he's locked up?" 

 Scott shrugged, "like... high." 

 "Wonderful." Ollie leaned back into his seat, tapping Stiles's bicep. "Stiles, the chance of Isaac maiming and killing is high." 

  "Yeah, well it just got higher," the boy winced involuntarily, leaning in closer and lowering his voice. "Jackson's talking to my dad right now. Apparently he lives right next door to him. And we all know that Jackson is not only rude, but is also pretty damn stupid." 

 "You're right, he's a fucking idiot."  

 There was a dull scratching sound as Scott slid his chair back, putting his elbow on Ollie's desk and glancing between his two friends. "So we gotta get to the principal's office."

 There was a pause, before a wide grin spread across Ollie's face as an idea struck him. He wiggled his eyebrows in response to Scott's concerned look, picking up a half of his broken pencil and slowly rising to his feet. He squinted one eye, scrunching up his nose as he leaned his arm back, throwing the pencil with pinpoint accuracy, hitting the back of Harris's head with a surprised yelp from the man. 

 He whipped around, his nostrils flaring. "Who in the hell did that?" 

 "It was me, sir!" Ollie exclaimed, holding out his hands as if they were to be put into handcuffs. "I take full responsibility, take me away." 

 "You don't have to do that, babe-" Stiles caught on, rising to his feet and placing a hand on Ollie's shoulder, raising the other in the air like a gun was being pointed at him, "it was me, Mr. Harris, I've been really into darts lately-" 

 "Come on, guys, it's alright-" Scott stood up, putting his hands up in mock-surrender. "I did it, it's actually a new lacrosse tactic-" 

 "For the love of-" Harris' voice trailed off as his face turned red, pinching the bridge of his nose, before reaching up to stiffly point at the door. "All three of you, get the hell out of here!" 

 Ollie just grinned, scooping up his bag and quickly complying. 

***

Ollie sat outside of the principals office, craning his neck upwards to try and hear the words being said through the window. They were muffled and distorted, but Ollie could see Jackson and his stupid, prentatious face through the glass, wearing a cream colored caridgan and looking like the definition of rich priviledge as he spoke to Noah Stilinski. 

 "What's he saying?" He whispered to Scott, who's face was contorted into what looked like a grimace. 

 "Apparently Jackson knew that Isaac's dad was hitting him... and didn't do anything about it." 

 "Are you serious?" The curly-haired boy clenched his teeth, making a mental note to beat the shit out of Jackson the next time he got. "I wonder if he'll tell anyone when I beat the shit out of him." 

 "What are you dipshits doing?" The familiar voice of Katrin Denny questioned as she walked past them, on her way to her English class presumably, judging from the stack of books she had balanced in her hands. She raised an eyebrow at the three boys, a smile playing at her lips. "Wow, it's been a while since you've all gotten a joint detention. How fun." 

"Just best friend things," Ollie grinned, slinging an arm over Scott's shoulder, as the boy himself flashed Katrin a thumbs up. 

The door swung open, Stiles jumping as he realized that it was his father who was walking out, hurrying to snatch up a magazine that was resting on the small table next to him, holding it in front of his face and sinking down into his seat. The Sheriff shot him a rather unimpressed look, rolling his eyes. "Hello, Scott, Ollie-" he turned his head to look at Katrin, who smiled. "Katrin." He let his eyes dust past his son, before pursing his lips, and with a miniscule shake of his head, walked away.

Ollie snorted, turning to pluck the magazine out Stiles's hand, chucking it down the hall. "You need to learn more about going incognito. You'll never get away with anything hiding behind magazines." 

 Stiles shot him a look, "I'm assuming you speak from experience." 

 "Obviously." 

 "Alright, well I'm going to go before I'm implicated of being guilty by association." Katrin waved, before spinning on her heel and sauntering down the hall. Right as she did so, the door to the office opened again, and an old man stepped out. 

 Ollie was immediately tempted to ask who the hell he was. As far as he was concerned, he had never seen this man before in his entire life. He was shorter than Ollie, with white hair and wrinkles on his pale skin. He smiled at them, his eyes glittering with something that didn't look all like kindess to Oliver. "Boys," He greeted, outstretching his arm to gesture to the office. "Come on in." 

 They did so awkwardly, filing into the room one after another, seeing three chairs that had been set up to face the desk. Ollie had been sent to the office more than Scott and Stiles combined, and he has always hated how you felt like you were being interrogated while you spoke to the man in power. He would rather stand. 

 Still, he sat in the middle seat, crossing his arms so that he wasn't quite so squished by his two friends as the unknown man came to sit in front of them... okay, in all fairness, Ollie could use deductive reasoning to realize that this man was probably their new principal, even if he had no idea what happened to their prior one. 

 "Scott McCall," he began, situating a stack of papers as he presumably read Scott's school record. "Academically not the most accomplished, but I see you have become quite the star athelete!" He spoke in a tone that was fake and recited, and made Ollie uncomfortable as he turned to look at him. "Oliver Sanchez... good grades, but quite a few... behavorial issues." 

 Ollie scoffed, but apparently he wasn't finished. 

"It says here that you have a track records of getting into trouble, can you tell me why that is?"

Ollie blinked, looking over at Stiles, who shrugged. Ollie pursed his lips, "um, people like to stir up shit with me, so I punch them in the head." 

 "Well, you'll learn in life that violence is not always the way to go. Prehaps you can find ways to express your anger in a more healthy manner... have you ever considered joining the lacrosse team?" 

 Ollie could feel annoyance bubbling in his stomach, his lips twisting into a scowl. Before he had the chance to say something that could potentially get him expelled, the spotlight was turned to Stiles. 

 "Mr. Stilinski, oh perfect grades, but little to no extracurriculars. Maybe you should try lacrosse?"

"Oh," Stiles looked over at Ollie, who was hiding his smile, ducking his head and wondering why the hell this guy likes lacrosse so much. "I'm actually already-" 

 "Wait-" he cut him off, the makeshift principal turning to point at Scott. "McCall... you're the Scott that was dating my granddaughter." 

 So this freakshow is an Argent, Ollie thought bitterly, sighing and leaning his head back and biting his lip. If there was one thing he knew about the Argents, it was that they were crazy Werewolf hunters who liked to try and kidnap him in the middle of dark forests. So it made sense that he was suddenly not so happy with his current situation. 

 Scott's cheeks immediately turned red. "We were dating, but not anymore. Not dating, not seeing anything of each other, or doing anything with each other at all-" 

Ollie mentally facepalmed, wondering when the exact moment where Scott became a horrible liar was. Principal Argent - or whatever the fuck his actual name was - chuckled darkly. "Relax, Scott, you look like you're about to crack a cyanide pill with your teeth." 

 "That's a weird analogy," Ollie whispered to Stiles, who nodded. 

 "I feel like that might not be the weirdest thing about this guy." 

 "Did you say something, Mr. Stilinski?" The man asked, rounding on the two, who froze like deer caught in headlights. Ollie smiled innocently, leaning back into his seat as Stiles chuckled nervously. 

 "No, sir." 

"Good," he leaned back in his chair, his eyes individually flitting over the three boys. "Now, Yes I am the principal, but I really don't want you guys to think of me as the enemy."

 Ollie couldn't help the laugh that slipped past his lips, but he immediately tried to cover it up as a cough, clearing his throat and leaning his head onto his hand. "Is that so?" 

 "However, this being my first day, I do need to support my teachers. So unfortunately, someone is going to have to take the fall and stay back for detention." 

 Ollie counted to three in his head, before exhaling sharply, figuring that since he was really the one who actually threw his broken pencil at Harris, and that maybe being in detention meant that no one would try to kill him for a few hours. "It was me, I'll do the detention." 

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah, I'm sure." He pointed to Scott, "this one wouldn't do anything like that, since he has this strange need to play lacrosse constantly, and this one-" he pointed to Stiles, "has the hand-eye coordination of a baby bear." 

 At the offended look from Stiles, Ollie turned to look at him, "A cute baby bear." 

"Alright, then." The older man clapped his hands together. "If that is settled-" 

 "Wait!" Stiles suddenly piped up, jumping slightly in his seat. "I'll stay too." 

 "What?" Ollie and the Argent man demanded in perfect unison, Scott almost falling out of his chair as he turned to look at his friend. 

 Stiles shrugged innocently, "I have homework to do anyway." 

 Argent Senior nodded, rising to his feet and nodding at the boys. "Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you all around." He said, Ollie taking that as his clue to stand up, the chair making an obnoxious screeching sound as it dragged against the floor. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ollie turned to Stiles, "hey, what the hell was that?" 

 Stiles blushed, awkwardly shoving his hands into his pockets, "well, I just felt bad that you were taking the blame, I'm trying to be a good boyfriend!"

 A grin slipped onto Oliver's face at his words, jokingly rolling his eyes as Stiles gently tugged on the strings of his hoodie. "You're such a dork, Stilinski." 

 "Coming from the guy who named his cat after a cartoon character, that means a lot." Stiles shot back pulling a face. "Besides, maybe one hour not getting almost maimed and killed will be nice."

 "Well, since you're gonna be with me, there's no promises." 

 "Well it's better than the last face I ever see being Scott's." 

 Oliver laughed, before leaning his head down to press his lips against Stiles', brushing his finger over his jaw, and pretending for one moment that his life wasn't totally fucked up. 

A/N:

hehe hello !!

i have been late updating because i have been binging teen wolf </3 i literally love isaac so much he deserves everything and has all of my love!

here is a question for you all: what is your favorite moment/quote from this book so far??

i know i have a lot of little questions lmao, it helps me stay motivated! also i adore ollie, so will try to update more! i am starting school on tuesday though, and have a lot of anxiety about it, so may not be able to update until the weekend! 

anyway memes for this story are the only thing keeping me going, so here's some textposts i made to help tide you all over: 

thank you for reading, and i love you all!