so_hawkward | Beacon Hills Hospital, Friday Evening

Jackson	With Lydia in a hospital bed, werewolves running around like freaking roaches, and hunters constantly showing up, Jackson wasn't having the greatest day. In fact, his day was terrible. "Hey!" And now he was following Stilinski of all people for answers. "Where are you going?"
Stiles	"To find Scott," Stiles said, not pausing in his getting the hell out of the hospital plan. Because he had enough on his plate with crazy alpha werewolves and mass murdering aunts that your guilt issues took a backseat, Jackson.
Jackson	Allow him to poke holes in that plan. "You don't have a car."
Stiles	Ugh, douchebag. "I'm aware of that. Thank you."
Jackson	"Here, I'll drive. Come on–-" Jackson said, reaching for Stilinski's arm before his hand was thrown off in a flailing huff.
Stiles	"Look, just because you feel guilty all of a sudden doesn't make it okay, all right?" Stiles said. Because at least a quarter of the blame was on him. And he was not okay with this getting Lydia hurt. You were okay to be hurt, though, Jackson. "Half of this is still your fault."
Jackson	Sure, pinpoint all his issues here, Stiles. You little shit. "Look, I have a car. You don't," Jackson said, trying to be reasonable for a change. "Do you want my help or not?"
Stiles	"All right." Then something struck Stiles even in all this. "Did you bring the Porsche?"
Jackson	Jackson fished out his keys, showing off something that probably cost more than Stilinski would ever see in his life. "Yeah."
Stiles	Stiles promptly snatched those keys right out of Jackson's hand. "Good. I'll drive."
Chris	Well, hope you two weren't planning on going anywhere soon. Because look at this hunter posse all up in your grill. And Clint. "Boys. I was wondering if you can tell me where Scott McCall is."
Clint	Clint would have been offended by that narrative if he wasn't feeling slightly out of place and strangely like he should have been wearing some kind of leather. And hey Stiles, don't mind him while he stared at you a little. "You guys weren't planning on leaving yet, right? Is Scott with you?"
Stiles	Well, next time pack extra leather, Clint. God. "Scott McCall?" Stiles said like he wasn't Scott's best friend five-ever. "Uhm, haven't seen him since the dance." He cleared his throat, trying not to look like he was hoping for a swift rescue from a friendly security guard or maybe a nurse. "Jackson, you?"
Jackson	Had Jackson mentioned how bad a day he was having today? Because he really was. And was freakin' terrified by the posse of large guys blocking their way now. "I–-"
Stiles	"Oh, for the love of God," Stiles sighed, vindicated in his knowledge that Jackson was utterly useless.
Chris	Chris had also had a bad night, boys. Which was sad for you all because that would be him grabbing both teenagers by their collars to drag them into an unattended room. He shoved them against the bed therein because he was dramatic. Not as dramatic as his dad, but still dramatic. "Let's try this again," he said, letting his posse (and Clint) close the door and make certain they wouldn't be interrupted. "Where is Scott McCall?"
Clint	Clint wasn't exactly part of the posse at the moment because while they were closing the door, he was making sure Chris didn't actually hurt Stiles. And Jackson too, but he looked like a guy who could probably take care of himself in the end. "Look, we just want to talk to him," Clint said calmly. He wasn't sure if that was true, but it was what he was convincing himself of at the moment. "If you tell us where he is, we can get out of your hair."
Chris	Chris wasn't going to hurt him. Well, maybe. It was possible that a minor amount of hurt was in the plan. His bad. When Stiles wasn't quick enough to respond to that, he was yanked back onto his feet and shoved up against the wall opposite from the door so that Chris could get in his face. Chris. Chris, you have a problem with the teenage boys. "Let me ask you a question, Stiles. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?" And it was time for everyone's favorite dinner story!
Stiles	Stiles was torn between looking at Chris and over his shoulder at the guy who seemed almost reasonable compared to the rest of the people in the room. Yes, he was including Jackson. Save him, reasonable guy! "No. I could put it on my to–do–list, if you just let me go."
Clint	Yeeeah, as much as Clint was on Chris' side, manhandling teenagers was kind of a hot button for him. "Hey, put him down. He's not going to go anywhere," he said to Chris, before looking to Stiles. "He's smart enough to know better than to run." At least, Clint was hoping this Stiles had some sense of preservation.
Chris	Hey. Chris was telling his story here. Which was why he only glared at Clint out of the corner of his eye before continuing. "I have. And the only thing I've ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you wanna know what happened?" he demanded.
Stiles	"Not really," Stiles said, looking anywhere but at Chris' face now. "No offense to your storytelling skills."
Chris	His story was amazing, you little shit. Chris smacked the wall next to Stiles' head, coming very close to enacting some of the violence that was building up in him since they found out his daughter's boyfriend was the beta they'd been hunting. "He tried to kill me."
Clint	Clint inched a little closer, fully prepared to do whatever he needed to do to keep Chris from actually hurting anyone. Surely, he would have felt guilt about that later? And Clint would be helpful in preventing that guilt? That was his story and he was sticking to it, especially since he had a feeling he knew where this story was going.
Chris	"I was forced to put a bullet in his head. The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?" Chris demanded. Because he told the best stories ever, didn't he?
Stiles	Oh yeah. Totally... awesome. "No. And it sounds like you need to be a little bit more select-–"
Chris	And that would be when Chris was shoving Stiles in place and making him flinch from the force of it. Another hit right next to his head to keep the little idiot in line. "Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock him up?"
Stiles	"Yeah, I did," Stiles said, pushing forward to get right back in Chris' face. Because what he lacked in strength and the ability to hit people really hard, he made up for it in an attitude that could be considered courage. "I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?"
Clint	"That's not what he meant." Oh, how he hoped that wasn't what Chris meant. "The point is, you know how dangerous Scott can be. He might not want to be, but it's probably not something he can help anymore."
Chris	Chris took a slight step back, regaining his composure. "And I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles. But we never did that." It certainly hadn't stopped the suspicion from the remaining Hales, though.
Stiles	Stiles dared a look over at reasonable guy, deciding he was decidedly less reasonable and more attempting a good cop to Argent's crazy cop. "Oh, right," he said, looking back at Chris. "Derek said you guys had a code. I guess no one ever breaks it." He was going to call you a liar if you agree, Chris.
Chris	"Never."
Stiles	"What if someone does?" Stiles asked, not about to back down when he knew he was right.
Chris	Yeah, Chris was not a fan of this confidence here. "Someone like who?"
Stiles	Stiles made a point to look him in the eye for this one. "Your sister."
Chris	And apparently there was just enough doubt built up over the past month that Chris took a step back.
Clint	Clint let out a little breath as Chris moved back, but he wasn't relaxing yet. "What do you think she did?"
Chris	Chris walked away, signaling for his posse (minus Clint) to open the doors and let the kids out. And look at those two scurry away! "Go check in with Victoria," he snapped at his men, waiting until they were gone too before answering that. "A local pack."
Clint	Clint relaxed more now that Stiles (and Jackson) were out of Chris' way, but he still didn't have a good feeling about this. "Stiles was talking about Kate, right?" It was an honest question, all these people had way too many family members. "You want to tell me what's going on?"
Chris	"Yes, he was talking about Kate," Chris snapped, pulling out his phone to call Kate and make sure this wasn't just some idiot teenager pushing the wrong buttons at the wrong time. And straight to voicemail. "There as a pack in this town," he said, hitting the 'cancel' button as Kate's voicemail played. "Their house burned down, killing nearly all of them. The police ruled it accidental."
Clint	"And you're thinking it might not have been an accident." Meanwhile, Clint was thinking he needed to get his crazy radar checked, sigh. "Do you have any idea where she might be right now?"
Chris	"I'm going to make sure my family wasn't involved," Chris replied firmly, heading for the door. Clint could follow or stay, it was up to him.
Clint	Yeah, there was no way Clint was staying and just wondering about what kind of trouble the Argents could be getting into, when he could try to help instead. He followed Chris out quickly, really hoping Stiles was somehow wrong.