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"The Hatred of Lacrosse"

***

Oliver knew that they were going to be questioned by the police sooner or later.... and he was mentally thanking his past self for making Stiles's father like him. 

"I want to hear it from you before I hear it from my son," the older man began, pulling Ollie aside. The boy tried his best to look as innocent as he possibly could with dirt all over his pants. "Why were you guys out here?" 

 "We were looking for Scott's inhaler," he rehearsed the lines that Stiles had gone over with him previously, flashing the older man a smile. "And we took a wrong turn, and somehow ended up here." 

"My son told me that you weren't with him that night in the woods." 

 "Oh, I wasn't." It felt good not to lie, and Ollie grinned. "I was actually at home." 

 "What were you doing at home?" 

 Oliver knew that he wouldn't believe him if he said that he was sleeping, so he blinked once before responding, hoping his tone was more confident than he felt at the moment. "I was, uh, studying." 

 Mr. Stilinski smiled, patting Oliver's shoulder with a kind smile. "Of course you were. God, I'll tell ya- my son's out here looking for some body, and you are at home... studying." He sighed deeply. "Sooner or later, I'm praying that you'll rub off of him." 

 Ollie briefly flash-backed to the time he accidentally set someones pants on fire, but forced the smile to stay on his face. "Yes, sir."

"And you're keeping those grades up? I wouldn't want Nicole having to deal with a trouble maker." He teased scribbling something down on his clipboard, and Ollie chuckled nervously, speaking in Spanish so that he didn't have to lie directly to the man's face. "Uh, Señor bueno, yo no digo mentiras." 

 "Nice." 

 "Yeah..." Ollie paused, "Spanish..." 

"For the love of-" Ollie thought that Mr. Stilinski somehow knew Spanish when the exasperated tone returned to his voice, but when he turned around, it became apparent that it was just Stiles. He said a short prayer for his friend as his dad stalked over to the police vehicle and hoisted him out by the collar of his shirt, dragging him over and planting him firmly next to Ollie. The boy rolled his eyes at his best friend, giving him a discreet, 'what the hell, dude?' look. 

 "What the hell do you think you're doing?" 

 Stiles didn't waste a second in answering. "I am just trying to help!" 

 "Okay, well how about you help me understand just how you came upon this?" 

 Oliver took a step to the side, keeping his eyes trained on the two for a split second, before turning and sprinting as fast as he could in the opposite direction. He didn't want to be involved in a father-son quarrel, but he did want to get his own chance to speak with Derek. 

 Just in a better planned way than Stiles's has been. 

  He ducked down behind the cop car and slowly lifted his head up so he could look through the window. Derek was staring blankly ahead, his face pinched into a rather terrifying glare that wasn't even directed at anyone. Ollie blinked once, before tapping lightly on the window. 

 Derek's head whipped over to look at him so quickly that Ollie almost had a heart attack. He made a complex series of motions with his hands, which apparently Derek somehow understood, as he reached his handcuffed hands up to hit the button next to him, and the windows rolled down. 

 "What are you?" 

 "I'm... Oliver Sanchez," the boy hesitated, wondering if he should have told the man his real name. 

 "Where the hell did you come from?" 

 He frowned, "Puerto Rico." 

 The two stared at each other for a second, before Oliver remembered why he came over there and lowered his voice. 

 "Look. Did you actually kill that girl?" 

 Derek glared at him for a few more seconds, not answering. Ollie rolled his eyes, before continuing. 

 "Why the fuck was she a wolf?" 

 Nothing. 

 "Do you even speak English? Because I know Spanish too, Por qué-"

 "I will tear out your throat, with my teeth." 

 The two boys continued their eye-contact, Ollie narrowing his eyes. "I know that was supposed to be scary, but it only turned me on a little." 

 "What the hell do you want?"

Ollie, pleased with himself that he got Derek to say something that wasn't a death threat, allowed himself a small smirk. "I want to know if Scott really shouldn't play in that lacrosse game." 

 "He can if he wants to expose himself and get us both killed." 

 As passive-aggressive as that answer was, Oliver got the idea. He didn't want his friend to get hurt, but he also didn't want to be injured in the process of trying to stop Scott from playing... he doesn't understand why being first line is such a big thing... heck, he doesn't even know what being first line even means. 

 "So you're saying that this stupid sport could potentially kill him." 

 "I'm saying that he shouldn't play."  

"Oliver! Where are you!" 

 "Shit," Ollie immediately took three steps backwards, and tried to look as nonchalant as possibly as he walked over to where Stiles and his father were gathered. The older man clamped his hand onto the boy's shoulder as he stopped, and gave him a look. "Oliver, would you please enlighten us by telling me your definition of 'lying.'"

 "Lying?" Ollie relaxed when he saw that he wasn't caught talking to Derek, and told the officer exactly what he wanted to hear. "Well, sir, I define it as not telling the truth... how do you define it?" 

 Mr. Stilinski and Oliver turned around to look at Stiles, who frowned, blushing slightly. "Reclining your body in a... horizontal position." 

 "Get the hell out of here." 

 "Absolutely." Stiles grabbed his friends arm as he stalked away, and Oliver hurriedly followed, anxious to get the hell away from Derek Hale. 

 ***

 "I can't believe you lost Scott!" 

 "I didn't loose him! I just lost track of his presence at this moment in time!"

 "Shut up!" 

 Apparently if Oliver isn't right next to him, Stiles does something stupid. In this case, that stupid thing was bringing the wolfsbane plant in his backpack, and loosing Scott after he had a mental breakdown. As Stiles stressed himself out, Oliver wondered if it was possible to call up Katrin just so she could kick Stiles's ass.

 The Sanchez boy ran his hand through his curls and sighed deeply. "Where were you when you lost him?" 

 "Hell if I remember." 

"This is why your father doesn't love you-" 

"My father loves me!" 

 Before they could argue any more, Oliver's phone began ringing, which made Stiles jump about a million feet in the air and swear loudly. Ollie shushed him, before putting the phone to his ear and trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Hey, Kat, what's up?" 

 "Um, Scott is at my house and I think that he just got jumped." 

 Oliver's heart skipped a beat, and he could tell his face paled by the way Stiles began repeatedly poking his arm. "What do you mean?" 

 "He said that he needs to talk to you before the game... which, by the way, reminds me that Pablo Richards called me Lydia twice today-" 

 "We'll be right there!" He yelled, hanging up the phone and stuffing it in his pocket, slapping Stiles's hand with more force than necessary. "Scott is at Katrin's."

 The boy visibly relaxed, his eyes widening to the point that Ollie almost laughed. "And he didn't kill anyone?" 

 "That I don't know." 

 Stiles chewed on his bottom lip, grimacing at his friend, who kept anxiously tugging at his curls. 

 "I guess we better hurry then." 

 ***

Katrin opened the door when the boys arrived at her house. Her hair was curled so that it hung neatly over her shoulders, and her red lips were pulled into a grin. She nodded to her cousin, "Hobo," her smile turned to Stiles, "bride of hobo." 

 "You're hilarious," Ollie glared at his cousin, who looked awfully pleased with herself. "Where's Scott?" 

 "He just left." 

 "Are you fucking kidding me?" 

 Katrin gave the curly-haired boy a look, pursing her lips. "Watch the profanity, Ols, there is a child present." She laughed, her tongue sticking out from behind her teeth as she stepped outside of her house and into the evening that was getting rapidly darker as the minutes passed. "He said that he had to get to the game, and would talk to you guys later." 

 "He went... to the game..." 

 "Why yes, Stiles, he did!" Katrin grinned, somehow managing to majestically waltz down the stairs of her front porch in her heeled boots. She spun around, placing her hands on her hips and relishing the annoyed expression on the boy's face's. "Don't look so sad, guys, we can go see him now!"

 The smile fell off her face, "and holy shit- I am going to murder Pablo-" 

 "Let's just go, okay?" Ollie grinned, walking down and giving his cousin the best fake smile he could as he kissed her forehead and gave Stiles a look as soon as Katrin turned her back.

 Because oh, things were not going so well for the boys. 

 ***

"Why do you look like someone stuck a broom up your ass?"

Oliver glared at Katrin as he fiddled with the cuffs on his jacket. He was stressing out over  what Stiles was saying to Scott at that very moment. We tried to go into the locker room, but then Finstock caught him, they had a five minute debate about the color of Ollie's shirt, and kicked him out. 

"I do not, I just hate lacrosse." 

 "Then why are you here?" 

 "Because I am supportive of my friends." 

 "I hate you."

 Ollie wasn't sure if Katrin was talking to him, or the girl who joined their group seconds later. Lydia gave Katrin a polite smile, and the girl responded with the most fake grin Ollie had ever seen. "Hey guys, mind if we sit?" 

 Ollie could tell that Katrin was about to say, "yes", so he cut her off. "Not at all." 

 "Thanks," Lydia gracefully sat down, crossing her legs as Allison (who Oliver had not seen until that second) nervously perched beside her. Katrin leaned closer to Ollie so she could whisper in his ear, so quiet that Lydia couldn't hear. "Do you want me to kill myself?" 

 "She's not that bad." 

 "Side-hoe."

 "Shut up." 

 The game began, and Ollie crossed his arms tightly around his torso, unintentionally glaring at the field. His eyes stayed on Scott the entire game, although he didn't seem to be at risk of going full fledged wolf.... since he hasn't even touched the ball yet. 

 "What the fuck is going on with McCall?"  Katrin asked, as he was standing there in the wide open space, still not receiving the ball. Oliver's lips pulled into a frown, his eyebrows pinching together as he continued to regard the game. 

 "I hate lacrosse-- but I don't think this is how it works." 

 The ref signaled for a time out, and Ollie leaned back as much as he could in the uncomfortable bleachers, directing his gaze at Stiles, who seemed to be intently staring at Scott, mumbling something under his breath. 

 Oliver rolled his eyes at how weird his friend was, before turning his attention back to the matter at hand. 

It became obvious that something had changed as soon as the game resumed. First of all, Scott was getting the ball... second of all, he was scoring... and third of all, he was scoring very aggressively. 

 "Oh no," Ollie let his head slump between his hands as Lydia laughed incredulously from next to him, cheering loudly for the boy. Everyone was in high spirits as the score board ticked up more and more points for their team, but Oliver knew what it meant. Scott was about to go- to put it simply- full fledged wolf. 

 "Hey, where are you going?" Katrin asked, as as soon as the final whistle blew, Ollie had leaped from his seat. He stared at the redhead for a second, before clearing his throat. "Just to... the bathroom." 

 He didn't wait for her reaction, as he turned around and carefully parkour-ed down the bleachers. 

 "Dude!" 

 "Holy-" Oliver almost tripped over his own feet as Stiles popped out of seemingly nowhere, his face urgent. "You almost killed me!" 

 "I don't care- listen to this." 

 The two began to jog back to the school, in hopes of seeing Scott not as a werewolf. Stiles began to speak rapidly, his cheeks flushed from the wind. 

 "Whatever killed that girl was an animal, not a human." 

 "What?" Ollie gave his friends a sideways look. "That makes no sense, I thought it was Derek." 

 "Derek got let out of jail! And guess who the actual girl was?" 

 Ollie cringed, "who?" 

 "Laura Hale. Derek's sister." 

 A shot of fear shot up Oliver's chest at the words, his eyes flying open and his feet stopping their movement. "What?" 

 "I know." 

 They stood there for a second, trying to process this new information. Derek's sister was dead. Derek didn't kill her. The killer was an animal. 

 The only question was, what animal?

A/N: 

Actual footage of Derek Hale and Oliver Sanchez meeting for the first time: 

I'm sorry. 

 I love how much Katrin genuinely hates Lydia. It makes me laugh how salty she is at life lmao... 

 I have a plot shop coming out soon! I just wanted to let you guys know, if that would be something you are interested in!

 Please vote and comment, and have a great day!