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Nothing Gets By a Stilinski AKA Stiles Had to Get His Awesome From Somewhere

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Stiles shoveled another spoonful of baked potato into his mouth as, across the table, his dad flipped through files and stabbed a piece of steak with his fork. It was Friday, the one day of the week he let his dad get away with eating crap without bitching. Mainly it was because he felt guilty that he was home even less than he used to be, busy with Scott and stupid Jackson and sort-of-werewolf-but-sort-of-not Lydia, not to mention the sourest sourwolf of them all. So the one night a week he and his dad were actually home for dinner at the same time, he just smiled and let the fat drip through his dad's arteries.


Arteries...he had read something earlier in science class that made him think that there might be a way to dose the werewolves that would make their blood less susceptible to things like silver or freaking crazy Argent bullets – he still wasn't over the way Derek had looked with black shooting up his veins and oozing out his arm and he'd really rather not repeat the experience. He'd tell Derek about it tonight, maybe see if Lydia had some other ideas –


His dad interrupted his thought process just as it started to veer toward the beady eyed glare Victoria Argent had given him as he passed her in the grocery store yesterday.


'So, I actually have this Sunday off.'


'Awesome,' Stiles said, and he meant it. His dad worked too much, and Stiles never stopped worrying every time he went on shift that he wouldn't be making it home.


'I'm thinking we should have a real breakfast together. Pancakes, bacon...the works.'


Stiles' mouth started to water, because his dad's pancakes were good enough to be obscene. Back when his mom was alive, Sunday breakfast was a family tradition, something they never missed. It was only afterward that his dad had started taking double shifts and drinking too much and looking at Stiles in a way that meant he was just as worried about Stiles disappearing as Stiles was freaked out about him dying.


'No, yeah, yeah, that'd be great! Scrambled eggs, too?' The pack was supposed to be doing training exercises then, but it wasn't like he was strictly necessary for those, so he had no qualms about skipping. He stuffed in another mouthful of potato as his dad nodded.


'And I thought we could invite Derek.'


A lump of half chewed potato plopped onto Stiles' plate in a way that was probably really, really unattractive, due to his mouth falling open as his eyes popped wide. He hastily chewed and swallowed.


'Derek Hale?' His attempt at casualness failed when his voice rose and cracked on the 'Hale' like a choir boy just kicked in the balls. 'Why...why would we want to invite him?'


'Well,' his dad wiped his mouth on a napkin and took a sip from the jack and coke at his elbow. 'Since he's been climbing in and out of your window every night for the last three weeks, I thought he might enjoy using the front door for once. Also, why is he the only one braving the drug store to buy condoms? Man up and do your part.'


'I... what Hale ...' His dad forked another piece of steak into his mouth as he waited impassively for Stiles' rambling protestations to wind down, and finally Stiles just slumped into the chair. They'd been like really, really careful. Hence the Derek and the drug store bit.


'How'd you even know ?'


'Son, I'm the sheriff. I know everything that happens in my jurisdiction. Especially things concerning you.' He pinned Stiles with his I-Am-The-Law-Fear-And-Tremble stare.


Stiles just grinned weakly around his glass of water, because nope, thank god, there were still some secrets in this town. Not that this wasn't bad enough...this was so, so bad enough, because hell or high water, Derek's ass was going to be sitting at the table come Sunday. Stiles had come into his inability to accept 'no' as an answer by way of his dad.


His father had opened another file folder when he continued offhandedly. 'And maybe while Derek is here, he and I can discuss if there's any way the Sheriff's department can make it easier on him while he tries to control that pack of his. That's a lot of responsibility for someone so young.'


Water spewed from Stiles' nose as he choked and made noises akin to a camel dying, and his dad smiled like the evil, evil man he was.


'Everything, Stiles. Everything.'


Oh god, he was so fucked.