Hear No Evil

[bethanys_hex]

Summary: Professor Harris has a bad day, and Scott and Stiles get a little comeuppance.
Genre: Teen Wolf
Rating: PG-13

Adrian R. Harris returned to school on a Wednesday without much fanfare. He'd spent his “vacation” getting more drunk then he had in six years, then slowly crawling his way towards sobriety and wishing he hadn't. Now the only hint of his leave of absence was the flask in his jacket pocket that he took to fingering at tense moments. Like when Coach Finstock greeted him in the hallway with a mango, chutney muffin and loudly asked what he thought of the double homicide that was all over the papers. Adrian stiffly returned that he didn't think anything about it and hurried away, clutching his hidden bottle.

He settled at his desk, prim and punctual as ever, if carrying a few more bags under his eyes. Everyone made a point to stop by and Adrian hardly had a chance to organize his lesson plans between the lunch lady, the balding history professor, and the theatre nut nosing about with well wishes. In other circumstances he would have been awkwardly pleased, but all it did now was set him on edge. Every opening door, every tap on the shoulder, and call of his name made him stiff with fright.

The students weren't pleased to have him back, and he was just as dysphoric to see them. Adrian was the bane of every Highschooler, embodying that potent combination of loving his subject and disdaining his students. In an effort to ignore the swath of blank faces he took to lecturing with his back to the room. Bored voices rose and fell behind him in a steady murmur, and he focused on the sweep of the chalk on the board, in lieu of shutting up them with his usual ruthless manner. Then, suddenly, between Cations and Anions a word popped out at him from the background.

“Werewolf?”

His chalked snapped and went skidding across the board, and he over his shoulder.

Mr. Stilinsky and Mr. McCall sat at the back table, their heads pressed together like some freakish siamese twin. The comedic duo were talking loudly enough to be heard by the entire room, if the room had cared enough to pay attention. Most of them were too busy texting on their phones, drawing on the desks or chewing gum with intense concentration.

“Yes, he made him werewolf,” McCall said, shifting nervously in his seat.

“Why? Do you think he's trying to replace you?” Stilinsky asked.

“I don't know.”

“Well did you ask him?”

“Oh yeah, I went right up to Derek Hale and had friendly chat. No I didn't ask!”

“Jeeze don't bite my head off. Kidding,” Stilinsky said, waving his pencil with emphasis.

Adrian looked back at the board. His fingers were trembling around the chalk, his palms sweating and he had to set it down. He took a deep breath and his voice cut across the room.

“Class is over. You're dismissed.”

Silence greeted him. It was only half past ten, and he had another hour before the class should end. A bitter smile pulled at his cheek. If he'd known it was this easy to get his students to be quite, he would have used the method ages ago.

“I said, class dismissed!” He repeated louder, his voice cracking on the end. The sound of slamming books and gathering bags spread through the room, and just as the chairs were starting to squeak across the floor Adrian ordered,

“Mr. Stilinsky, Mr McCall, please stay behind.”

His class quickly disappeared. The mindless hordes ever grateful to skip and hour of Chem. Adrian turned around and leveled a severe look over the rims of his glasses at the two remaining numbskulls. McCall and Stilinsky stood with their bags clutched tight, and looking far more guilty then they probably thought.

Adrian forced himself to walk on shaking legs to his desk and sit with a modicum of dignity. Then he took a deep breath and said.

“Do not ever discuss that in my class again.”

The teens shuffled, looked at each other and then Stilinsky took the lead and answered.

“We weren't discussing anything.”

Adrian almost smiled, and the return of his familiar contempt felt like a balm on his shredded nerves.

“Mr. Stilinsky, please, don't insult my intelligence. It's something you might want to strive for yourself one day.” He crossed his hands on top of his desk.

There wasn't much he could do here. Threatening suspension, or even expulsion wouldn't hold water. He could threaten to expose them, but if they already knew Derek Hale (Adrian shuddered at the thought) there wasn't anyone to expose them to. That he knew of anyway. More then that, he didn't want to be involved. Laura Hale had dragged him into this mystery too far already. He'd nearly lost his life. He'd been irrevocably reminded of the night when he told a beautiful woman all about his love for chemistry and then watched a house burn down on the weekly news. It had been years but he still felt a private lingering guilt whenever he picked up a bottle of Methanol. Now these two brats where bringing it to his doorstep all over again, and Adrian would not have it.

“If you need to discuss the business of,” he swallowed lightly, “Werewolves, you had better do it somewhere else. I don't want any part of it. So keep it out of my class, and out of my ear shot,” he finished, his voice soft and surprisingly deadly given how much he was shaking inside.

The boys opened their mouths, likely to protest, and Adrian cut them off.

“Don't say anything, just get out.”

He picked up his pen and pulled forward the papers on his desk. Dismissing them both with a gesture. The two squirmed for minute and then retreated. Just when they reached the door Adrian spoke again, not looking up from his desk.

“Mr. McCall.”

The boys stopped.

“Whatever your connection with the Hales, I'd strongly advise you to rethink your position. If that won't be too taxing.”

The boys slipped out the door, and Adrian heard them start whispering to each other, properly this time, before they were even in the corridor. Then the door fell shut and he was alone. He sat, stiff and cold, and thought about the last time he'd seen Laura Hale, and the night when a monster had come into his classroom.

Perhaps it was time to move beyond Highschool. He had an old friend at the University of Chicago, he should give them a call. They might need a chemistry teacher.

.