Red was not his color.
Derek had been Alpha for a week and he’d already caused so much chaos. And they had thought Scott getting bit was catalyst for chaos in their lives... no that was nothing compared to Derek Hale the Alpha running around loose. Not to mention that Derek was unavailable for interviews after the news about Kate had broken to local and state news stations. It only made the story juicer to the news vans skulking around town. There was even a show from the SyFy channel in town after the suspicion of a Bigfoot. Sheriff Stilinski had already put in three double shifts this week, dealing with local wildlife and insane Bigfoot sightings and the fallout of Kate Argent.
For someone so intent on keeping his secret, Derek wasn’t doing that great of a job of it.
He was taken in for questioning the morning after Kate’s murder. After all, the woman was lying dead in his house and he was back in town for the first time in years, of course he’d be a suspect.
But when his father sat him down in an interrogation room (Stiles pacing nervously outside the building with Scott listening in for any shifting into an Alpha going on) Derek almost panicked. His heartbeat skyrocketed.
“Uh oh,” Scott said. Stiles rounded on him.
“Do not say uh oh unless you mean it, Scott.”
“He’s starting to freak out. I think the Alpha in him is wanting to run.”
“No!” Stiles insisted. “If he runs, then they’ll think he did it for sure and he’ll never stop running.”
“I hope he gets caught.”
Stiles hit Scott over the head. “Man, if he gets caught, there goes any hope I had of making sure that the pair of us graduated high school in one piece. He’s grumpy and going through a lot in his life right now, but he is still our best bet here, Scott!”
“Yeah, but he could have let me kill Peter and that would have made being with Allison easier.”
Allison Allison Allison, Stiles wanted to beat Scott over the head with the baseball bat he and his mom keep around. The guy would heal. “Yeah, or you could be the one going all red-eyes on us and you could be the one freaking out and about to shift. My dad’s in there, Scott.”
Scott nodded. “He’s calmer now... oh my god.”
“What?” Stiles bit his lip. “Please tell me my father is still my father. Please tell me I’m not an orphan.”
“His alibi.” Scott looked at Stiles. “He said he was with you. That he picked you up from the dance, brought you to the hospital to see Lydia, and then he took you away because you needed to get away.”
“I’m his alibi?”
Scott nodded, “I think your dad is buying it.”
So that was how Stiles ended up covering for Derek and, in the process, ended up having a very awkward conversation with his father in his father’s office.
“Derek says he was with you on Saturday night. Is this true?”
Stiles puffed up his cheeks and then blew out all the air as fast he could. “Yeah. He was... helping.”
“I was freaking out because of what happened to Lydia and I felt like I was going to have a panic attack and he noticed and he calmed me down.”
“Where’d you go?”
“Does it matter?”
“Stiles... the guy is suspected of murder.”
“Yeah well... technically,” Stiles stammered. This was so frustrating. “He’s actually... a good guy.”
“Are you dating him?”
“You have had a bit of an unhealthy obsession with the guy. And you’re always up in the woods around his house.”
“...what?” Stiles repeated.
So now his father thinks that he has a thing for Derek Hale, which for the record - he totally doesn’t. He’s just this guy that’s always around and always on his mind and he wants to talk to every day and such. But not a thing. Nope.
But regardless of Stiles’ not-emotions, his father thought so and therefore believed Derek’s alibi and because Stiles is a minor, details of said alibi could be kept quiet.
Which they were.
But that was eight days ago.
Stiles sighed heavily as he dropped his backpack down in a chair next to Lydia’s hospital room’s door. He made a point of visiting her every day for the last week, feeling responsible. Peter wanted Stiles, not Lydia. If he had just gone with her when she went looking for Jackson she would have been fine. Shocked and scared, maybe, but not laying in a coma - that’s for sure.
But she was not fine. The bruises that ran down her arms had healed, and there was a little more color in her face, but it was not a good thing. Stiles had been told that she was running a low fever for the last three days. Fever brought on by infection from the bite on her side.
“...if the bite doesn’t kill you, and it could...” Peter’s voice replayed in his head every time he walked through her hospital room. He knew that she was probably going to die. Werewolf venom or some crap like that running through her veins and slowly killing her. He just wished he could help her.
The Argents didn’t have answers. Google didn’t have answers. Scott was as much in the dark about everything as Stiles was. Really, the only reliable source for all things werewolf was currently on a power spree in the woods. Reports of animal attacks and deer deaths had skyrocketed in the last few days, animals running from a bigger predator lurking in the woods.
A predator with glowing red eyes and a vicious bite.
“So it’s official,” he told Lydia. “School starts back up today. And Scott is still gone with the Argents to San Francisco doing research about the cure. For both of you. So I’m going to be there. Alone. With Jackson. And that’s not going to be fun because I’m pretty sure Jackson is now a werewolf and has sworn allegiance to Derek the Stupid Almighty Alpha.”
He sighed again, slinking down into a chair and burying his head in his hands, already dreading the day.
“So that’s what you think of me.”
Stiles jumped up and flailed around at the sound of Derek’s voice. He breathed a sigh of relief before he realized who exactly it was standing in Lydia’s doorway. He still didn’t know where he stood with this new Alpha Derek. Alibi or not, the guy could still rip him in half, especially with Scott refusing to acknowledge his new authority. He should not be relieved to see him. He should be angry and scared and cautious. Not relieved. But he was. And it freaked Stiles out because he did not have a thing for Derek Hale.
“Dude! What are you doing here?”
“I visit her every morning. Check on her.”
That threw Stiles for a loop. A straight answer, and one he wasn’t expecting. “Really?”
Derek’s mouth tightened in annoyance, taking a step into the room. “Yeah.”
“You don’t even know her. Not really.” Stiles went to stand next to her bed, between her and Derek... like he could do much to stop Derek if he really wanted to do anything. Other than a raised eyebrow at Stiles, he didn’t respond. He only looked at her face for a long moment, then to the machine that let out a steady beep of her heartbeat, and then he turned to leave.
“Hey!” Stiles called after him. “You haven’t answered any of my calls. You haven’t talked to me or Scott in a week! What is up with you?”
Derek stalled and turned around slowly, he looked over his shoulder at Stiles.
“Her blood is on my hands if she dies,” his face fell and his shoulders slumped. No, Stiles decided. Red was not Derek’s color. And as soon as he arrived, he was gone.
Stiles’ mind reeled as he looked back down at Lydia, “Well that makes two of us that feel that way about you. So don’t die, okay?” He backed away, clutched at his backpack, and left.
School was just as stressful as Stiles was expecting. Everyone was talking about the dance and what had happened to Lydia. People were wondering where Scott and Allison were. Everyone was asking him questions about the Bigfoot his dad and the SyFy channel were presumably searching for. Scott texted him a photo of the ocean, making Stiles hate him just a little bit and worried him all at the same time.
The Argents weren’t that bad of a family, not really. They truly wanted to help Scott, both to control the wolf side of him and to help cure him. That didn’t stop Stiles’ internal “bad idea!!!” alarm clock from going off when they first mentioned taking Scott with them out of town. He fought with Scott, but of course Allison waved around her curly girl hair and fluttered her girl eyelashes and Scott went like a puppy on a leash.
But he was expecting the worst part of the day to be Jackson being all intimidating and aggressive in the hallways. He wasn’t. He gave a little jock chin-up nod as he passed him in the hallway and that was it. He didn’t know if he was a werewolf or not, but if he was it seemed he was taking it in stride. Then again, none of it ever worried Scott. Maybe there was some kind of anti-anxiety thing that came with a bite that made a new werewolf chill about the whole thing?
Stiles wanted to ask Scott, wanted to tell Scott about Jackson, wanted to get his opinion, wanted him to sniff him out. It’d make everything easier. He couldn’t talk to anyone about anything supernatural and it was honestly driving him a little crazy. Knowing that Jackson knew made things easier, but it was better Jackson was keeping his distance. He didn’t need to be friendly with another werewolf during school hours. Scott by himself was stressful enough.
Which was working out well for Stiles until lunch. When Jackson sat down next to him with a worried expression on his face, proving Stiles’ thoughts true.
“Do you have any classes with the new kid?”
Stiles paused, mouth around a water bottle. So Jackson was talking to him. Stress level upped.
“No. Also, hi. How are you doing? Lydia’s not doing great, by the way. Glad to see you’ve made it to the hospital at all this last week. Also, the full moon is Thursday, you gonna be okay about that?”
“What?” Jackson honestly looked confused for a second. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Derek’s got these... cells if I need them. I’ll be fine.” And so that suspicion was solidified.
Just like that.
Great. Another werewolf in his life. Wonderful. Stiles almost pushed his trey away from him as he slumped in his seat. Jackson kept talking “But the new kid-”
“So just like that?”
“Derek bit you?”
Jackson shrugged, “Yeah.”
His eyes widened, “Fine. You’re a werewolf. And what about Lydia?” Stiles crossed his arms.
Jackson almost growled, “I’ve gone every morning for the last week. I didn’t go this morning because of school. Are you happy?”
Stiles shrugged and reached for a chicken strip.
“Okay whatever. The new kid. I called Derek but he’s not answering. We’ve got a problem.”
“We?” Stiles asked. “Last I checked, Scott was off looking for a cure and you and Derek are all buddy buddy in the woods together causing all sorts of hell for my dad. What makes you think your problems are my problems?”
“Because you asked if I needed help on the full moon,” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. His lips were pushed out and grinning in a ‘oh, so you think you aren’t involved in a mystical werewolf world, you’re so fucked’ sort of way.
Stiles was still for a beat, hating Jackson’s dumb face. “Fine,” he said, uncrossing his arms in a flail. “What is it? He uncover your secret already? Man, at least with you Scott kept you guessing for a while.”
“No, dude, shut up.” He said, leaning closer. “He smells.”
Stiles blinked and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Smells.”
“Did Derek not tell you about the superhuman nose thing?”
Jackson did roll his eyes this time, and grabbed his shirt. Stiles looked down, offended. “Yes, you idiot. But he smells like dog.”
“Maybe he’s got a dog!”
Jackson’s grip got tighter and Stiles found himself getting closer to a face full of freckles. Jackson’s voice lowered, “Like a werewolf.” And that was when Stiles’ blood ran cold. More werewolves. He sighed. This was his life now.
Stiles, the Werewolf Wrangler. He bet that’d make a fairly interesting television show.
But focus. New kid. Werewolf. “Did Derek bite another kid?” His voice dropped.
Jackson pushed away, “I don’t know. I tried calling Derek but he didn’t answer.”
“What’s his name?”
“I don’t know.”
“Which one is he?” his eyes already scanning the cafeteria.
“He probably has second lunch. He’s a Senior.”
“Well this is helpful.” He stuffed a few fries in his mouth. “I probably won’t have any classes with him.”
Then Danny set down across from them, “Won’t have classes with who?”
“New kid,” Jackson said around his coke can.
“Oh!” Danny lit up, “She’s in my Calc class. Really young to be in Calculus 2 but...” he shrugged.
“There are two new kids?”
“You’re talking about someone else?”
“Yeah well she’s from somewhere in Arizona and has an older brother in our grade. She’s real sweet.”
Jackson smirked at him, “Let me guess, her brother is good looking?”
“Her brother is gorgeous,” he gushed. Stiles had never seen Danny so open about himself before. Jackson leaned across the table.
“You would go for being the chick’s friend to get to her brother.”
“What can I say?” Danny leaned forward, matching Jackson smirk for smirk. Stiles was amused with watching this rare display. “I’m a teenage boy with urges.”
Jackson laughed and sat back in his chair, diving into his meal. Stiles knew that the two of them were like him and Scott. Thick as thieves, was the term. He just actually never saw the two of them be so friendly with each other.
Must be all the empty seats around them. Less distractions. Stiles’ mood fell. Then a thought ran across his mind.
“What’s the new guy look like?”
Danny looked shocked up and swallowed a fry, “What?”
“The gorgeous new guy, what’s he look like?”
“Well,” Danny started, looking at Stiles funny. Jackson was too, for that matter. Stiles brushed it off and focused on Danny. “Tall - about my height, lean, dark hair, great chin, wonderful arms, looked a bit Hispanic.” He shrugged, “not gonna lie, totally my type.”
Jackson rolled his eyes again. “‘Boy’ is your type.” Danny threw his water bottle lid at him.
Stiles turned to him and sighed, “Sound like your new guy?”
The pause he got from Jackson let Stiles know that the light bulb above his head went off, that Stiles wanted to know if Danny’s new guy and Jackson’s new guy were the same person. Jackson shook his head. “No, my new guy was short, looked like a wrestler.”
Stiles let out another frustrated sigh. He still didn’t know who any of these people were, if any of them were werewolves, if he still had a foot in the werewolf world like Jackson seemed to think he had, and lunch was already halfway over.
Then Danny spoke back up, “So how’s Lydia doing?”
All he wanted to do was go home, collapse on his bed, and wake up when he was older and more emotionally equipped to deal with his insane life, but instead of a faceful of pillow, he got a face full of Jackson. Mondays were lacross free afternoons, so he was treading onward toward his jeep when Jackson pulled back on his backpack and suddenly he was behind the corner of the school, Jackson’s hand over his mouth.
“There he is.”
“Srussl?” Stiles said against his hand. Jackson let him go. “Seriously? The shoving me has got to stop okay?”
“Dude, he’s not alone.”
Stiles leaned around the corner of the school and Jackson was staring straight at a short, stocky, boy getting into a green pickup truck. There was a man about mid twenties with the same flat nose.
“Must have a brother,” Stiles whispered. Jackson nodded, not taking his eyes off them. “You listening in?”
“Trying. I don’t know how to stand it with all these people.”
“Just breathe and focus on them,” he guided him. Like he knew how to do it. He’d only ever seen Scott do the super hearing thing and that’s really not helpful, in hindsight.
Jackson’s eyes narrowed as he took a deep breath. Stiles huffed in surprise that he was actually listening to him. “They are just talking about his day. The new school. That they have to wait for someone named Spencer...”
Just then, another boy with the same flat nose walked to the truck. He looked younger, about fourteen, maybe, and he hopped in the truck.
Jackson shook his head, eyes shutting tight, “I can’t... the truck engine...” He clawed at his ears, “it’s so loud.”
“Don’t worry about it anymore. Don’t hurt yourself.”
He let out a breath and looked physically calmer. Stiles was once again shocked that the jock was listening to him. “Do you think they are all one of us?”
Stiles lifted an eyebrow, “Hey, not a werewolf, here, and just because you and Scott are, doesn’t mean your parents are, right? Means nothing. We don’t know anything right now.”
Jackson nodded, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling Derek again. Then heading out to his place.” He started walking towards the parking lot again. He then stalled, looking to his side and then back to Stiles, “You coming?”
Stiles sighed, already missing his pillow.
“Yes,” he said rolling his eyes, sighing, and mad at himself that he couldn’t stay away from the Big Bad Wolves.
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
He followed Jackson’s porsche to the outskirts of town and up into the hills that lead to the Hale house. Honestly, he just wanted to go home and sleep ...but Jackson was right (oh god Jackson was right) if there was a new werewolf in town, they needed to know.
However pulling up to the house, there was already a bit of a crowd. Two news vans were already set up outside, doors open and antennas up at full mast. A woman with beehive hair and a giant microphone started towards Jackson’s car window. Stiles rolled his eyes as the blonde got out with a bit of a smirk. Yeah, that’s just what they needed. Jackson’s Abercrombie Jaw Line making the evening news.
Stiles jumped out of his jeep and made a beeline for Jackson, but didn’t make it before a man with practically plastic hair was bumping shoulders with Beehive lady, cameramen right up behind them, and the questions started flying.
“Hello young man,” Plastic asked, “what’s your name?”
His smirk got wider, “Jackson.”
“And do you live here in Beacon Hills?”
“For as long as I can remember.”
“And what are you doing up at the Hale house today?”
“Uh,” Jackson answered smartly.
“Are you friends with Mr. Hale?” Beehive asked.
“Um,” he continued to show off his intellect.
“Or is it more than friends...?” Plastic sneered.
Jackson’s head went back and his eyebrows knitted together, “With Derek?”
It was at that moment that Stiles finally got to them. “Hey! What’s going on?” He started all friendly. “You guys really don’t have any other news to cover so you stalk outside a grieving man’s house attacking minors with questions?”
Beehive’s mouth fell open, as if she were appalled.
“Come on guys, you need to go. Don’t make me call the cops. I have dispatch on speed dial.”
Plastic then rounded on him, “People have a right to know what’s happening in their state!”
“Yeah, you’re right!” Stiles agreed. “Like two different news crews getting arrested for harassing a couple of teenagers. THAT sounds like a juicy story, if you ask me.”
After a beat, Beehive took a deep breath and gave her cameraman the kill it signal. Plastic was already backing away. His entire demeanor shifted into something sullen, “These kids are useless. Maybe we can get something new out of the Sheriff.”
Jackson snorted. Stiles smacked his arm with the back of his hand and they stood against Jackson’s car until both vans had packed up and pulled away.
“Why do they want to talk to Derek?” Jackson asked as the last of the vans left the long gravel driveway.
“Oh, I don’t know...” Stiles rounded, pushing away from the car and headed towards the burnt out house. “...the convicted arsonist that killed his entire family turned up dead in his living room? Or maybe how the only family Kate had is suspiciously out of town?”
“There is also the fact that Derek has only been in for questioning with my dad, and lord knows I had to give him an alibi which was difficult to explain to my father... but because I am a minor, it keeps it off public record. Which makes it all look very suspicious.”
Jackson paused behind him, “You gave him an alibi?”
Stiles paused at the top of the steps, “Derek didn’t kill Kate and, last I checked, the rest of the world still considers werewolves urban legends that only live in teenage romance novels.”
“But werewolves are real.”
“Oh my gooawad!” Stiles said, exasperated. “Does the werewolf bite kill brain cells or something? You sound like Scott!”
Jackson’s face turned dark, “What?”
“I don’t know a lot about werewolf laws and all that,” he pushed himself back down the stairs and into Jackson’s face. “...but I do know that if the world knew about you and your brand new fangs there would be more than two news vans on Derek’s front lawn.”
“Oh,” Jackson blinked. “Right.”
Stiles wanted to punch him.
“So,” Stiles sighed instead, heading back up the steps again. “Derek bit you and then didn’t explain any of the rules?”
“He explained some, said I’d learn more as time went on.”
“Of course. Sounds like Derek.”
Once inside the house, Jackson announced, “He’s not here.”
Stiles turned around quickly, “Have you known this the whole time?”
“Oh my god,” he pinched his nose. He was really too exhausted for this. “You tried calling him again?”
Jackson nodded, “Nothing.”
Stiles sighed. He looked around for a minute, and then started to head back to his jeep.
“Where are you going?”
“I have homework!” Stiles said, “If I’m going to be waiting around for Mr. Grumpy Wolf for god knows how long, might as well get it done!”
And so, that’s how Stiles spent his afternoon sitting on Derek’s porch, doing economics homework with Jackson Whittemore. And then, when that was over, he really just wanted to take a nap, so he curled up against one of the support beams and tried to close his eyes while Jackson was nose deep in some English reading assignment across the porch leaning against the house.
It was kind of surreal the way Jackson was handling everything and it bugged the hell out of Stiles. Just last week he was human, this week he was a werewolf and he’s sitting all calm reading Lord of the Flies like nothing happened.
“How are you so calm?”
Jackson looked up, “What?”
“About being a werewolf?”
Jackson dog-eared a page, and sat it down in his lap with a sigh, “I don’t know.” He looked up. “I thought I’d be freaked out. It’s like...” he bit his lip looking for the words. “...coming up from underwater. Everything is sharper and clearer. It feels like... this was just inevitable.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” Stiles responded, voice thick with sarcasm.
“Oh, don’t tell me you would turn down the bite if Derek offered it. The speed, the agility, the healing, and everything?”
“Peter did. I said no.”
Jackson didn’t know what to say to that, and Stiles was really not equipped to deal with teenage boy emotions - least of all his own - so he forced his eyes shut and forced himself to sleep.
It was starting to get dark when Jackson shook him awake, wanting to go to Lydia before visiting hours were over. Stiles let him go as he headed home. He had a crick in his neck from resting on the burnt wood and he smelled like woods.
Checking his phone when he was in the car, he had a missed call from his father and a few texts from Scott.
From Scott 4:38
hey u up for a game of draw something im @ some weird library n so bored
From Scott 4:47
guess thats a no
From Scott 4:59
no news on a cure btw
From Scott 6:20
u wud like it here so many books on werewolves its crazy
From Scott 6:23
im stealing sum 4 u
Stiles rolled his eyes because of course the guy would be in a room full of information about himself, not care about it, and instead shuffle it on to Stiles’ shoulders. He hated Scott. So much. He hated that the guy was such a puppy and he hated that he had gotten in on Stiles’ good side, he hated that he was excited to see what Scott was going to bring him back, and most of all he hated that he wished Scott were here.
To Scott 6:52
Stiles had been tossing and turning for hours and when he rolled over to his alarm clock he cursed the dark when it read 1:51.
“Ugh!” he said to the room as he tried to smother himself with his pillow. All he wanted to do all day long was fall asleep and forget the world. Now that it was night, and he was in bed, he couldn’t stop thinking. “UGH!” he said again.
Then he threw the pillow against the wall, which deflected it and somehow made it come flying back at him.
“Oh my god!” he sat up with high pitched squeak (that later he would defend was totally a manly yell,) arms flailing.
He blinked a few times against the dark. A blurry shape stood against his wall, and even in the dark, Stiles could make out a pair of brooding shoulders that were decidedly Derek shaped. He calmed down into his sheets.
“Hey man,” he started, rubbing sleep out of one of his eyes. ”I really don’t like the implication that I am a weak female figure in a teen romance novel.”
Derek did not respond, only continued to stand… broodily.
“You know…” Stiles prompted, slightly more awake, but still only seeing a vague shape of Derek against his wall. ”Edward Cullen. Watchin’ me sleep. Makes me Bella Swan.”
The broody shoulders shifted weight, only slightly, to the leg closest to the window.
“Not that I read the Twilight books or anything!” He tried to cover quickly. ”It’s just I like to be up to date on pop culture!” Derek let out a low, irritated growl. ”Okay, maybe I did read them, but for the record I was totally on Team Jacob! And that was before Beacon Hills went all werewolf crazy!”
“Stay here and shut up,” Derek said, and just as the words ran through Stiles, Derek came into focus. His red eyes glowed bright as he watched out the window. Then he crouched down, let out a low growl, and just leapt out the window without another word. Stiles was left with his mouth open wondering what the hell just happened.
He threw himself back down, pillow returning to smothering his face, “Yeah I’m not going to sleep tonight.”
Derek was already in Lydia’s hospital room when Stiles got there the next morning. Standing back in the hall, he watched as Derek stared at her still figure for a moment, then up to the machines announcing she was still alive. And then as he turned to leave, he noticed Stiles. He paused in the doorway. For a tiny moment he looked like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Hey,” Stiles started. Derek looked around, looking for an exit. “What was last night?”
Derek looked up, eyebrows deep in confusion. “What?”
“You were in my room at one a.m.? What’s up with that?”
The older boy looked off into space for a moment, blinked, and then back up to Stiles with a blank expression. “I have to go.”
Stiles nodded in frustration, “Right of course. You have to go.” Derek pushed past him, Stiles turned around with a scoff, “Nice talking to you!” He turned back to Lydia, “Can you believe that guy? I can’t believe my dad thinks I’m dating him.”
Stiles hit the lockers with a loud bang in passing period before second hour. People turned and looked as he went down, book flying out in front of him. “Ahh,” he moaned as he already mourned the bruises he was going to have on his arm.
“Man! Watch it!” He heard Danny call after someone. Looking up, it was the flat nosed suspected werewolf. He turned around with a sneer, a shrug, and then kept walking. Danny knelt down and grabbed Stiles’ book. “Uncalled for. You okay?”
Stiles sat in shock just a moment longer, “Yeah. Just jerks, you know.”
Danny nodded and the tardy bell rang.
Before lunch, he was shoved again, but this time caught himself and shouted back, “Least you could do is give me a warning!” Flat nose turned back around. “Then it could be a fair fight.”
Flat nose walked up into Stiles’ face, “With a human like you? I’d have you in half in two seconds flat.”
“Sounds kinky,” Stiles spat back. He already knew it was bad idea to rile up this guy’s fur, so to speak, but he couldn’t help himself.
Then a low growl came from somewhere behind him, and Flat nose looked over his shoulder. Stiles followed his gaze to find Jackson looking more menacing than Stiles had ever seen him look.
Flat nose backed off walking backwards, “Watch yourselves.”
Jackson’s head was down and angry until he had turned the corner. Then he turned to Stiles, “What did he say to you?”
“Just enough to confirm that he’s a werewolf. Also a threat to rip me in half ...but I’m used to that around were-hormones.” He re-adjusted his backpack and his phone buzzed.
From Scott: 11:44
hey we r coming back 2morrow
He started to reply, ignoring Jackson and Flat nose and everything in his life that was currently upside down.
To Scott: 11:45
Thank god there’s too much going on. I could use your help.
“And what am I?” Jackson asked, reading over Stiles’ shoulder. “Chopped liver?”
Stiles looked up, “Most days.”
From Scott: 11:45
Jackson actually looked hurt as they turned towards the cafeteria. “You want Scott’s help? Scott?”
“The guy is my best friend, watch it,” he said, as he typed out a text.
To Scott: 11:46
Too much for a text. Just save about an hour for me once you’re home.
“Still. It’s Scott.”
“What about Scott?” Danny asked, coming up from behind them.
“He’s back tomorrow.”
He did the up-chin jock acknowledgement thing that all guys seemed to know how to do and then, “Come on, hot dogs today and I want one before they get cold.” He pointed to Jackson, “And you aren’t allowed to say any gay innuendo jokes while I’m eating them.” Jackson laughed as they walked off ahead from him, but Stiles was left, open mouthed, staring at his phone.
From Scott: 11:46
we found sumthin that might help Lydia
“Jackson,” Stiles whispered. The blonde’s shoulders tensed up, letting Stiles know he could hear him. “They might be able to help Lydia.”
He turned around, eyes wide and vulnerable, looking every bit as hopeful and broken as Stiles felt.
There are multiple points of view, I just had to break up Stiles' a little bit.
Thank you Ilse.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Allison’s life had become exceptionally stressful in the last week and a half. First, she found out her boyfriend was a werewolf, which was both devastating and exciting at the same time. Second, her entire family hunted werewolves for a living, which was equally devastating and exciting. Third, she just lost her aunt - a woman that was like a sister to her - because of a werewolf. And fourth and finally, if all went to plan, her best friend would be a werewolf by the week’s end.
Her world went from sleepy town to werewolf city in sixty seconds flat.
Whether she was "pro" or "anti" werewolf had yet to be decided. Scott, however, remained a priority. She knew that she had to protect Scott, keep him from people like her Aunt. People that would take him, tie him up to a metal gate with metal chains, and then electrocute him for kicks. She still shivered whenever she thought back on Derek Hale tied up in his own basement.
She was also dealing with the press. She had been attacked by paparazzi on her daily run, everyone wanting a picture and a quote from the niece of the infamous Kate Argent. They bugged her until Sheriff Stilinski stepped in and told the press to lay off minors involved with the case.
Then they just started in on her parents harder than they already were.
The biggest thing to happen to this sleepy town was a fire that killed a dozen people six years ago. Now the arsonist that had done it ended up with her throat torn out in the very house she burnt down. Allison understood why news crews were going crazy with the news. It was a juicy enough story that it was being broadcasted nationwide.
That was when Chris Argent announced they were going to spend the next week or so in San Francisco with his father. His house was a mansion and big enough to hide in for awhile. Allison had wanted to bring Scott. Her father was against this idea, claiming that they would be stressed out enough with Kate’s funeral to worry about a werewolf running around in a hunter’s house. Also, since it would be her first visit since she found out the family secret, there would be long talks and celebrations. Having Scott there would hinder that.
She didn’t care.
The craziest thing about all of this was that she wasn’t freaking out like everyone thought she would. She was even surprising herself. The world just got a whole lot scarier and overwhelming, sure, but for the first time her life felt like it had a purpose; a calling.
What exactly that calling was... that was still up in the air, but San Francisco was not the vacation that Scott made it out to be to his mother during their many phone conversations over the course of the week. Her father was right on the Scott front. The whole trip became a dangerous balancing game of “no grandpa, my boyfriend’s not a werewolf what are you talking about?” and “no Scott. You can’t shift in the middle of the living room my cousins are here.”
Her father desperately wanted to tell her grandfather about Scott. He claimed that he and his father followed a code and that Scott was too young to just kill.
“Kate didn’t follow the code.” Allison knew it was a low blow, but it was necessary. They were pulling luggage out of the back of the car, away from her grandfather, who had started taking Scott on a tour of the house.
“I’m not Kate.” His voice dropped. The dark, gravelly voice was a new tone the whole family had adopted after Kate’s death when they talked about her. Grief, sadness, shame, and anger flowed through his teeth. “I don’t kill the young.”
“The what happens when he gets older?” She boldly asked, crossing her arms and raising her chin.
Chris Argent did not have an answer.
“I swear dad,” she started, “you breathe one word about Scott being a werewolf to anyone in this house and Scott and I will be gone.”
“Where will you go?”
“Back to Beacon Hills. Right back to Derek Hale.”
“I think I’d look good with fangs.”
“Allison, you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“No, I do.” She said, sure of herself... even if she felt like she was stamping her foot. “You or mom betrays me and Scott and I’m going to ask Derek Hale to bite me. I’ll be a werewolf and there won’t be a thing you can do about.”
“Dad, you are going to have to deal with the fact that things are going to have change whether I’m bitten or not!”
Chris didn’t say a single word other than forced dinner conversation to his daughter the rest of the week. Scott knew nothing of this, only that he was to keep his mouth shut about all things werewolves.
Dinners were stressful. Scott was being grilled left and right, and Allison crossed her fingers and toes that he wouldn’t slip up and mention werewolves. Or that if they were brought up, he’d play it off a joke. Regardless, everyone talked in code.
“I still say they should be looking harder for the monster that killed Kate” from her Uncle Clay meant “why aren’t we in Beacon Hills going on a werewolf killing spree right now?” He was a tall man, half a decade older than her father and obviously a hunter.
Allison was shocked she didn’t pick up the signs from her family before. Some people knew about the supernatural, others didn’t. The ones that knew had a tendency to walk around with a dark look behind their eyes; a sadistic flash that made Allison’s mind jump back to Derek Hale chained up and angry and how Kate’s eyes looked homicidal and excited.
Her Uncle Clay wasn’t exactly the gentlest man at the table, and he was dealing with his grief by turning to anger and rage and he wore the same eyes as her Aunt Kate’s. Allison shivered and gripped Scott’s hand under the table.
“Kate wasn’t the woman we knew” from her father meant “she had a past we weren’t aware of.” He was probably taking it the hardest of all the adults. He was just as hurt and confused as Allison.
And her grandfather was scariest of all.
“We all have secrets,” he would say, staring straight at Allison and Scott. Allison had no idea what that meant. All she knew was it scared her enough that she would stay up all night, listening to the hallway through her door to make sure that Scott’s door stayed shut.
All research for Lydia had to be done in secret. They could only go into her grandfather’s library when no one else was home, so her father had to distract them. It was a deep basement room with small windows at the top of the walls. Rows and rows of books scattered throughout the room covering more topics than just werewolves. Vampires, Fairies, Witches, and even a small section about Giants but there weren’t many books in English. That didn’t stop Allison from reading as many about the change and the shift as she could.
Her grandfather caught her in there, Scott - thank goodness - had gotten up to go to the bathroom. She was nose deep in an old book titled “The Magic of the Bite.”
“Doing some light reading there, sweet pea?” Her grandfather asked. Allison jumped, frightened.
“I’m sorry... I just...” She looked up at him and then slumped back into her chair. “Am I not supposed to be in here?”
“No, your dad said that you found out about everything the night that Katie died.” He nodded, “which is why I’m surprised that you brought a boy along on your first trip here after you found out the ‘big secret.’”
She sighed, shutting the book in her lap. “He’s important,” She shrugged.
“I get that. But that can be dangerous for a eighteen year old girl.”
She smiled, “I think I can handle it.”
“As long as he stays away from all things werewolves...” He said with a pointed look, voice thick with knowing. Allison gulped. “...I think you can too.”
“You’re a lot like her, you know. Your Aunt.” Allison didn’t quite know how to take that as he sat down in a chair across from her. “All the good stuff.”
“If you say so.”
She had cried for her Aunt. Scott held her and she sobbed. Emotions surrounding her Aunt were confusing. On one hand, she was this psychopath arsonist that killed a dozen innocent people. On the other, she was this warm, loving woman that had rocked her to sleep at night. Allison was unsure what her tears said about herself.
“She was still your Aunt,” Her grandfather said, sensing her discomfort. “No matter what she did in her life.”
“I want to make things right.” She said with conviction, surprising herself. “I can’t bring the Hales back from the dead, but I can make sure it doesn’t happen to others.”
Her grandfather smiled. “You’re going to be a cop?”
“Maybe,” She answered. “I think I’d be good at that.”
“I think you would be too.” He stood up to go, “and for the record... I think you’d make a hell of a hunter, too.”
She smiled. “Thanks.”
“Grandpa,” She called after him. “I have a question. About werewovles.” She held up the book she was reading.
His eyebrows shot up, but other than that, he seemed happy to answer, “shoot, sweet pea.”
“It says that the bite can kill someone. Can you stop it? Like a snake bite?”
He took another step back into the room. “The only way I have ever seen it kill someone is if the wolf that bit them died before the transformation was complete.”
“So if a person was bit again, that could save them?”
He thought about it for a moment, “I’m not sure. And I don’t know if making sure they were a werewolf would save them. They’d be better off dead. I really don’t ever want to test the theory either, to be honest. Less werewolves running around, the better.”
Allison laughed, “right. You’re right. Thanks, grandpa.”
“Anytime, sweet pea.”
Scott came back just a few moments later.
“So I have an idea how to help Lydia.”
“I heard,” He answered. He wouldn’t look at her.
“I want to stay for Kate’s funeral today, but we can head back tomorrow morning?” She asked.
“If you say so,” He replied. Allison frowned, thinking that he’d be happier. Then, he stuffed a few books into his backpack and left without a word to her.
Kate’s funeral was a small, quiet affair, nothing at all like the woman she was when she was alive. A few hunters came, a few cousins and her mother’s brother, but other than that, the gravesite was barren. Scott wasn’t sure that he should even be there, but was happy to support Allison when she needed it. She was grateful.
When Allison closed her eyes, she could still see the blood fling out of her Aunt’s neck and onto the window and floor. She shivered and Scott held her closer, but she wasn’t handling Kate’s death all that well. How was she supposed to grieve someone that caused so much pain and death? When she opened her eyes again, she was a normal teenage girl who lost her Aunt.
The next day, on their way back home, everything her father had been holding in all week blew out of him. “Are you happy now, Allison? I lied to my father, to my brother, to my cousins. I lied and it was all for you. And you are no closer to finding a cure than before. I sure hope you’re happy.”
She didn’t reply.
Scott however, was confused. “What?”
“It’s nothing,” she tried to brush off.
“She threatened to to run away and get the bite if I mentioned you to our family.”
Scott sat back, hurt. “Why? Why would you take the bite? What if he could help? What if he knew a cure, Allison?”
“What if he killed you?” Her father wasn’t the only one without a reply to that question. Scott opened his mouth to answer but nothing came out. “It’s better that we keep the werewolf part of you a secret until we know how to fix it.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No,” He argued. “I don’t.”
“Find you a cure.”
“So I’m just going to sit in my room and twiddle my thumbs? I’m more involved in this than you are, Allison.” He was starting to get angry. Allison tried to hold his hand, he snapped it back.
“I just want to help!”
“By not letting me do anything?”
“Told you,” Her father said from the front seat. “My father would have understood that he wanted to find a cure. We could have explained it-”
“Dad...” She cut him off with a scoff.
“Let’s just drop it until I’m not trapped in a car,” Scott suggested. He leaned away from Allison and focused on the early morning outside. She held onto his arm as tightly as he would let her, and even if he was mad at her, it calmed him. Allison fought back a smile.
The drive back was awkward and full of tension but Scott was alive. They might be fighting, but she was sure that her grandfather knew nothing about Scott. And better yet, they had a way that could save Lydia.
They had gotten back to school just before third hour, Scott on the lookout for Stiles. Allison smiled up at him. He was such a puppy.
“Thank you for coming.”
“I’m glad I could,” He shrugged.
She leaned in for a kiss, but he pulled back, blinking. Her heart fell. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean...”
“Don’t yet okay?” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll just see you at lunch.” And like that, he was gone down the hall.
She was left standing confused in the middle of the hallway.
It's gotten bigger. Hence the delay. I had to make sure everything was still going to work, continuity wise. But the original goal was to have everything written and posted before June 3rd (lkajsdflsd) but that is now a distant memory and this will become a season one au. Oops? Oh well.
Please note new tags. They'll be updated with each chapter. :)
After school Stiles had Lacross, which was basically sitting on the bench watching Jackson showing off his new speed and agility with a smirk. His mind was busy dealing with a new werewolf in town, Jackson being a jackass, Lydia dying in the hospital and Scott and Allison on their way with what could be a cure for her. He couldn’t concentrate on anything the coach was saying.
Which is why he downed a couple Adderall in the locker room.
He was really trying not to get his hopes up about Lydia, but he was at least hoping for some answers. There were also those books Scott promised he’d steal for him, then Derek being all Twilight-y on his ass last night, and the pain in his arm from the surprise locker attack. In the end, he was wound up so tight he snuck out of practice early.
He thought no one would notice.
But someone did.
Almost halfway home, jamming out in his car, looking forward to a decent afternoon of Adderall powered study hours and then a good night’s sleep, Stiles had to slam on his breaks. A black SUV and the Flat nose’s green pickup truck from yesterday had thrown themselves in front of his jeep.
Flat nose got out. “You are going to follow us.” Flat nose’s older brother stepped out from the suv’s passenger door.
“I think I’ll pass!” Stiles called out through his window. He went to put his jeep in reverse when a god-honest gold minivan slid up behind him. “What the hell?”
Then, out of his rear view mirror, he noticed a middle aged woman get out of the mini-van. She was actually kind of gorgeous, for a woman pushing forty. She looked fit and her sandy blonde hair fell down to her shoulders pin straight.
She walked up to Stiles’ window. “It’s Stiles, right?”
Stiles didn’t say a word.
She smiled, “You’re going to follow us. You’re going to answer a few questions. We’re not going to hurt you.”
He shut his mouth and swallowed. “I really don’t think I sho-”
She rolled her eyes and pulled his door open and had hold of the back of his neck before he could react.
“Hey, hey I thought you said I’d be fine!”
Ignoring him and throwing him towards Flat Nose’s older brother, she hopped into his jeep. “Meet up at the house.”
Older Flat Nose nodded, already throwing Stiles into the back of the suv.
“What is this, a gang hit? I can get in on my own just fine.” Then he watched as the woman lead the caravan of cars off in his own jeep. Stiles took a moment to have a small panic attack. He reached around for his phone, only to realize that it was still in his gym bag in his jeep. Cursing himself, he tried to get a good look at the driver.
He had the same sandy hair as the woman from before, and had on a brown leather jacket. “Where are you taking me?”
Surprisingly, Leather Jacket answered, “Back home. We have a few questions.”
“Yeah, I have a few too.”
“We’re asking ours first,” Older Flat Nose turned around and sneered.
“So, I can’t know what your names are?”
Leather Jacket and Older Flat Nose shared a glance.
“I’m Henry,” Leather Jacket introduced himself. “This is my nephew Ted.”
“And the woman?”
“My sister. Dianna.”
“Okay,” Stiles felt calmer already. Well, he had just been kidnapped by a family of presumed werewolves and no one knew where he was. Calm was relative. “And your little brother?”
“Which one? I have two.” Ted responded. “Jeff, I think is in your grade. Spencer is an eighth grader.” Then he shook himself. “Enough questions.”
They were silent the rest of drive. They were about twenty minutes on the lakeside of town, East of Derek’s house about twenty miles to the best of Stiles’ estimations, but still deep in the woods. There was a small neighborhood of houses out here by the lake, five cottage type places that the town had tried to turn into a tourist destination. No one ever wanted to come to Beacon Hills just to visit. But it looked like whoever these people were, they had moved in.
Each cottage had a moving truck in front of it, and a couple of cars each. Stiles let out a shaky breath. If this was a werewolf pack... they were huge. People and children were coming out of the houses, curious to see what the commotion was about. There was a little boy, maybe four, standing alone and looking different from the others. Everyone had flat noses or sandy blonde hair, short and compact like wrestlers. Like they were one, big family. This little boy looked lean, and had dark, shaggy hair.
The suv came to a stop, and Stiles found himself being pulled out by the neck of his hoodie. He stumbled out and was lead into one of the cottages behind Dianna. She seemed to be the one in charge. Stiles briefly wondered if she was their Alpha.
He looked back to the little boy, wondering if he wasn’t the first kidnapping they had done. He gulped as he was pushed through the cottage doors. Upon closer inspection, it looked like all the homes had had work done. A paint job, a room extension, an added garage. They had done a lot of work to these houses.
That told Stiles one thing: they were here to stay.
Once he was shoved inside, Stiles was kind of shocked to find that the cottage was beautifully decorated. Full of comfortable looking furniture and walls full of family photos. The room had a large bay window that showed off the lake; it took up one entire wall. Stiles was impressed. It felt more lived in than prison-esque. He couldn’t help but breathe a tiny sigh of relief.
“Let’s start with something easy.” Dianna started, turning around and facing Stiles. Ted didn’t let go of his hoodie. “How many of you are there?”
She took a deep breath, and then tried again. “In your pack, how many?”
“Yes. Your pack.”
“I’m not in a pack.”
“You reek of Derek Hale,” Ted interjected.
“The Hales were an old family.” An old woman from the end of the room chimed in. “One of few from the original line. It is a shame what happened to them.”
“Stiles, this is my mother.”
“You can call me Mrs. Powell, sweetheart.”
Everyone in the room, which at this point was Dianna, her mother, Ted, and Henry, all nodded.
“Mrs." She chimed. "Don’t forget it.”
“Yes ma’m,” he said. The room kind of chuckled. Then a few more people walked in. An older man who sat down just behind Dianna, and another man that looked like he was Henry’s twin with a clean cut beard.
Stiles was getting a bit claustrophobic. “Look, I don’t know what you think I...”
“Stiles, we’re a werewolf pack,” Dianna said. “But we’re not just a pack, we’re a family. If there is another Alpha on this land we need to know about it, because I am going to protect what’s mine.”
He shut his mouth when he realized that he was breathing through it. “With all due respect, lady, I will do the same.”
Mrs. Powell laughed from the end of the couch, everyone turned to look at her. Dianna rolled her eyes. “Oh boy,” the old lady started. “You say you aren’t in a pack but what you’re saying is telling me otherwise.”
He gulped again. “I don’t know what you want out of me.”
“Let’s start with how many of you there are?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
Dianna took a deep breath, obviously trying to keep her temper in check. The man that had sat down behind her reached forward and took her hand in his. She physically calmed down. “Well. There are twenty nine people living in these six houses. I want to keep the number of wolves to myself.”
“Well, I showed you mine...”
“Yeah and you didn’t have to,” Stiles shrugged. Henry’s eyes flashed blue and a growl grew up this throat. Stiles took a side step away from him into Ted. Then he took a step back from him, making Ted drop his grip on his hoodie and re-grab his neck. Stiles struggled against him for a moment and only stilled when he felt claws growing around the sides of his neck.
“As far as we can tell, you are the only human in Hale’s pack.” Henry’s twin asked. “But why you?”
“He likes me for my sense of humor,” Stiles shrugged again. “Look, I really don’t know what’s going on here? So I really just need to go. Because my dad will be looking for me. My dad. The sheriff. Of all the cops. He’s my dad.”
At the mention of the police, the two twins looked panicked and looked towards Dianna. Then everyone except the man that was holding Dianna’s hand looked towards the door. Dianna nodded her head toward Ted and he left the room in a hurry. Stiles rubbed his neck, thankful there wasn’t any blood. Then he could hear a crash. Something was happening outside and it was making everyone in the room upset.
Stiles hoped it was Derek and Jackson shaped.
“Leroy,” Dianna began and Henry’s twin looked at her. “Make sure the babies are taken care of.” He nodded and turned around and left. Dianna rounded on Stiles again, “The Alpha outside seems to be going through a lot of trouble for a human that’s not even his pack.”
Stiles bit the inside of his lips and then he tried not to pee his pants as her eyes began to glow red.
Just then the door swung open and in swooped Derek, eyes red and wolfed out. Not completely wolfed out but looking like his old self with scary red eyes. Jackson pushed through the door behind him.
Instantly, Dianna held up her hands, “Full moon truce.”
Derek growled. “You kidnapped one of mine!”
“He seems to think different.”
Stiles met Derek’s red eyes full of apology. He rolled his eyes, “He’s a teenage human. He doesn’t know any better.”
“Well, Alpha to Alpha you should teach your kiddos better. I know momma taught you better than that while you were with us.”
Mrs. Powell stood up and Derek took a step back towards the door.
“We’re going.” In a rush to leave, Stiles stumbled over to Derek and was almost glad for the tight grip Derek had on the back of his neck. The three of them backed out of the house and back outside. Derek led them to Stiles’ jeep and Derek practically threw him in. He was grateful that came and got him but seriously, he could get into a car all by himself, thank you very much.
“Truce will only last another few days, Hale!” Dianna’s tone warned from the doorway of her cabin. Derek growled around to the dozen or so blue and yellow eyes on the lawn around them one last time, then pushed into the driver’s seat and took off.
Jackson was already calm and human again by the time they hit the main road back into town - something that pretty much amazed Stiles - but Derek... not so much.
“What were you thinking?” he practically yelled to the rearview mirror.
“Thinking?” Stiles yelled back. “They kidnapped me, Derek!” He sat back and ran a hand over his face. “I have been kidnapped too many times in the last two weeks!” He settled down into his arms and his arms settled down into his legs. He was scratching the back of his neck, remembering Ted’s fingers digging into him, when he realized that the jeep had stopped.
Jackson spoke up, “What did they mean when you were with them?”
Derek didn’t answer.
Looking in the front seat, Stiles saw that Jackson had his eyes on Derek, who was slowly shifting back to human.
“What did they want?” Derek asked the rear view mirror.
“To know about... our pack, I guess.”
“What does this mean?” Jackson asked.
Derek glanced up at Jackson and then back to Stiles. “I don’t know yet.”
“Are they going to kill us?” Jackson asked again. Stiles thanked the irony gods that Jackson was able to have worries about problems that had a direct correlation with his dick getting some action.
“They’ll have kill me first,” Derek promised. Jackson’s shoulders visibly relaxed.
“What’s a Full Moon Truce?”
Derek shook his head, “It’s just words. An old tradition. Emotions are going ninety miles an hour during the week of the full moon. So, a Truce is so that no one makes any rash decisions, but they are just words.”
“Makes sense. During the last full moon Scott was about to go all Dexter Morgan on me.” Stiles looked up with a grin, only to meet to confused faces.
“Who?” Jackson asked.
“The serial killer?” He looked at Derek. Then he realized the guy was living in an abandoned building for the last two months and probably doesn’t keep up to date on much television. “From that one television show?”
When no one responded, he rolled his eyes, sat back into the jeep and grumbled, “Never mind.”
Derek still hadn’t changed back to human, his eyes weren’t flashing red, but the color sat dark in his eyes.
“The Argents are back tomorrow,” Stiles announced arms crossed and still grumpy. “They have something that might help Lydia.”
Stiles had a face full of Derek again, “What is it?”
“I don’t know. Just that they’d be back tomorrow.”
He turned back around and took a few deep breaths and Stiles watched, fascinated, as he faded back to the human version of Derek. Then he turned to Jackson, “Stay with him. Watch him. And keep an eye on the hospital tonight.”
Jackson nodded and then Derek had opened the jeep door and stepped out. He stuck his head back in and looked at Stiles.
“Stop taking too many Adderall. You’re going to overdose one of these days.” And then he was gone out the door and into the trees.
“Wait!” Stiles called after him. He turned back to Jackson, “What?”
“What did he mean watch me?”
“On patrol?” He prompted. “Didn’t he make Scott patrol?”
“No.” He climbed into the front seat. “Patrol? Like cops? Oh my god.”
Jackson shrugged, “It’s actually pretty relaxing.”
“How are you so calm about all this? It’s like you’re a natural or something.”
“I can’t be a natural?”
“No. Werewolves are super-natural for a reason!”
“Whatever,” He said, crossing his arms. “My porsche is still at school. Can you drop me off?”
Stiles stared at him for only a moment, “Oh my god.” Then he turned the key, started the engine, and threw the jeep into drive. “I cannot believe that this is my life.”
But it was his life. His home was empty, a note for his father saying that he’d be working late. Stiles frowned. He was working too hard. He decided that his father was going to take a vacation soon. Maybe next month over Thanksgiving they could drive up to his mom’s mom’s place in Oregon, away from any and all things werewolves and Bigfeet.
Looking at the calendar he thanked whoever was in charge that the full moon did not fall on Thanksgiving.
Then he realized that he really didn’t have to worry about the full moon, other than the two dozen more or so werewolves running around the trees in Beacon Hills possibly wreaking havoc and killing each other.
He sighed as he watched his Hungry Man Meal spin around in the microwave. It was late, almost 10:00, and he wondered how much longer “working late” was for his dad. He wondered what exactly went into patrolling and why Derek never asked Scott to do it.
His mind kept coming back to the fact that he was actually kidnapped today. Why wasn’t he in shock or something? Maybe he was. He was kidnapped today by a different pack of werewolves and the supernatural world just got a whole lot bigger, and he was so relieved when Derek had rushed in and saved him.
In what crazy world did he prefer Derek Hale?
“Apparently the one where your dad thinks you’re dating him,” He answered himself out loud. Then, as the microwave dinged, he realized he was talking to himself. He was going crazy.
He ran a hand over his face and then jumped up and down, trying to shake the feeling. He desperately wanted to sleep and ignore everything but the adderall was still running through his system. Derek was right - he took too many.
He ate up in his room and tried to google a million different versions of “wolf territory disputes” and before he knew it he was reading about Civil War battles and how exactly they treated the wounded on the battlefield.
“Go to bed Stiles,” He told himself as he rested his elbows on his desk and rubbed his eyes. He let himself have a yawn when he heard a shuffle behind him. He turned fast, printed out pages about wolf pack dynamics flying into the room, to see Derek once again standing just inside his window.
His eyes were glowing.
“Derek?” Stiles asked, flipping on his desk light. Derek’s eyes flinched, but he was human. He was also covered in blood. It was up around his mouth and nose and looked as though it had dribbled down onto his chest and clothes. “Derek, oh my god.” Stiles stood, ready to go get the first aid kit out of the hallway bathroom. “Is any of that yours?”
Derek looked down and then back up to Stiles. He was moving sluggishly and looked as though he were in a daze.
“Are you high or something?”
The werewolf moved to shut the window. “It’s not my blood. I don’t think.”
He looked up at Stiles, but didn’t say a word.
“Come on, let’s get you in a shower.”
Which was easier said than done. For the most part, Derek just stood awkwardly as if he was actually sleep walking instead of covered in blood, but not knowing the sleep patterns of werewolves he wasn’t going to rule out sleep walking. Scott did before his first full moon.
“You smell funny,” Derek said, voice full of gravel and deep. He still looked a thousand miles away.
“Yeah well, I’m not the one covered in bunny guts.” He threw Derek’s leather jacket over the back of the toilet. “At least I hope it’s bunny guts. Please don’t be human. Please don’t be human.”
“Why do you smell funny?” Derek asked, actually leaning down and sniffing him.
“Oh my god!” Stiles stepped back and shoved Derek’s head upright. Then he reached down and started the water for a shower. He had just convinced Derek to get out of his shirt (which what the hell is this really his life) when he heard the garage door start opening. His dad was home.
“Dude, focus. Get in the shower.” Licking his lips he left Derek to his own devices, “Do not make me regret this.”
But he slipped out of the bathroom just as his father was making his way upstairs. He looked as tired as Stiles felt.
“Hey, son,” he smiled through exhausted eyes. “You doing okay? I know I haven’t been around a lot since everything with the Hale kid...”
“No it’s okay.”
“Dad it’s not like that, really.”
“Okay,” he held up his hands but sounded like he didn’t believe him. “But you’re doing okay?”
“Just tired, dad.”
He smiled, “I know the feeling. ...but hey,” he started to change subjects. “Tomorrow night. You and me, spaghetti and meatballs.”
“Uh...” that took Stiles for a loop. “Sure. Sounds good, dad.”
“Good. I’ve missed you. We need to catch up.”
“Yeah...” Stiles agreed. His dad then started for his own room but stopped and pointed to the bathroom door.
Stiles looked back, half expecting Derek to be standing there covered in blood, but the door was still closed.
“Don’t let the water run too long,” his dad said.
Stiles let out a laugh of a sigh, “Right. Good night, dad. Get some rest.”
“You too. Love you.”
“Love you too, dad.”
When Derek got out of the shower, he was more like himself. Albeit same old Derek wearing Stiles’ hoodie and running shorts.
“Stiles,” he said as he closed the door, holding his clothes in his arms. “How did I get here?”
“So you were sleepwalking.”
“I don’t sleep walk!”
“Well, you do now!” Derek blinked and then rolled his eyes with a huff. “And please tell me that blood is animal and not human!” And then after a beat “...or werewolf.”
Derek stared at him for a moment before he sniffed his own shirt. Then his face went pale. Derek’s face going pale was not a good thing. Stiles stood up.
“It’s human,” Derek confirmed.
Stiles had to sit back down. He hit his bed with a plop. “Did you kill someone?”
He looked off for a second, trying to think about the events leading up to showing up in Stiles’ room before settling back on Stiles, “I don’t know.”
“Great,” Stiles said. “You can’t control the Alpha.”
“Stiles...” Derek started, “Jackson can’t know.”
That made Stiles pause. “Jackson? He’s so freaking calm about all this. He’s taken to being a werewolf like a fish takes to water... He might be able to help!”
“No.” Derek pressed, then he licked his lips. “He’s calm because he thinks I have it under control. It’s an Alpha thing. If he finds out that he’s going to be better off tomorrow night than I am, he’s going to lose control and then you’ll have two werewolves that don’t have control. Let alone the Powells on the other side of the lake running around.”
“Okay...” Stiles started. “Maybe you didn’t kill anyone. Maybe you just bit someone. That’s easily taken care of!” Derek rolled his eyes and gave him a look that could kill. Stiles gulped down the fear and ran a hand over his face again. “It’s better than murder, Derek!”
He threw his clothes against the door in frustration.
“So...” Stiles said, “Why do you always end up here?”
“Tonight and last night... you were here. Why?” If he was next on Derek’s hit list, letting him use his shower was either gaining brownie points or setting himself for a world of hurt.
“I think it’s because you’re pack.”
“Why not Jackson?”
Derek sank down into Stiles’ computer chair, sighing. “I don’t know.” He leaned forward into his hands, running his fingers through his wet hair. “I can’t believe I’m about to do this.” He looked up at Stiles, “I’m going to need your help.”
Stiles crossed his arms and smiled. “Hold on. I want to savor this moment. Yeah, just as nice as I imagined it would be.”
“Whatever, you need my help.”
“You don’t even know with what.”
“Locking you up on Thursday night?”
Derek huffed again, “...yeah.”
“I’m your guy.”
They didn’t sleep, but instead ended up leaving as soon as it was light outside. It was about four a.m. and Stiles found himself taking Derek out to the last place he remembered from the night before. They traced his tracks and found the scene of the crime just around 6:30. There were huge branches down, wolf prints deep in the mud, and splashes of blood.
“Well,” Stiles started. “At least there aren’t any bodies.”
“No like, this is a good thing, Derek.”
“There aren’t any bodies here.” He turned on Stiles, backing him up into a tree. “Yeah, he might be a werewolf, but a werewolf bite can kill too.” Stiles had a quick flashback to Peter’s mouth curling around his wrist.
“But he could also be alive.”
“Just more blood on my hands.”
And that was it, the root of all Derek’s problems. Stiles just didn’t know how to confront it yet. So, he went with his default setting...
“Alright, Lady MacBeth, no need to get so dramatic.”
...humor and pop culture references.
Derek turned and gave him a death glare. Then started walking past him. “You have school soon.”
“Yeah,” not caring about the change of subject and checking his watch. “I’m going to be late.”
“My house is close,” Derek said, looking off towards the South. “I’ll take you.”
“Right, and my jeep?”
Derek shrugged. “I’ll get it later.”
“Oh my god you are Edward Cullen!” Derek’s eyebrows met in confusion. Then Stiles continued. “Then that really does make me Bella Swan.” He whined and kicked a tree in protest.
“Well your dad does think we’re dating.”
“Oh my god!” Stiles repeated and then started stamping off in the general direction towards Derek’s house. The werewolf didn’t even smile, but Stiles swore he was laughing the whole walk back and drive to school. “I hate you.”
“Go to class,” Derek responded as they pulled up outside the school. Stiles opened the door with a roll of his eyes.
“Fine. Don’t go killing anyone else today.” He smirked back into the car only to find Derek wide eyed and staring down someone else, following him as he moved. Stiles followed his stare. It was a to a tall, dark haired kid with a baseball cap. Stiles didn’t recognize him. He looked back to Derek. “What’s up?”
“What about him?”
“He’s the one I bit.”
Stiles stood back up and watched the kid walk up into the school from over the top of the car. He pulled back, “I’ll find out more.” He was about to shut the door when he noticed Derek’s grip on the steering wheel. He felt like he need to say something, so he licked his lips and said “He’s alive, Derek.”
Derek nodded, hands relaxing.
“Seriously, keep your mouth to yourself and take care of my jeep!”
He slammed the door shut and Derek took off. Stiles watched him take off out of the parking lot, and then he set his sights on this kid. But that was before Jackson came up behind him and threw his arms around his neck.
“Keep his mouth to himself, huh?”
“Get off me Jackson. We have another wolf problem today.”
“I know, Jeff Powell already gave me a nasty look when I pulled in this morning.”
“No, not the Powells,” he said, shoving Jackson’s arm off of him. “Derek bit someone last night.”
Jackson’s face kind of fell, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Stiles started walking towards the school. “Do I look like an expert in werewolves?”
Jackson shrugged. “If you aren’t yet, you will be.”
Stiles let out a sigh in one, fast huff. “I hate my life.”
“So who’s this new kid?”
“I don’t know, tall, dark hair, had a baseball cap on.”
“That narrows it down.”
“Shut up,” he practically growled as he pushed open the school doors. Even though it felt like he was the least likely person in town to be the one growling now.