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His Story wasn't over yet

Chapter Text


Derek sat down with a small sigh in the only empty chair, next to the large window. Chemistry. It had to be chemistry, this early in the morning, as his first period on his first day at his new school.

Beacon Hills was… small. Not necessarily boring, since his father had to come and work here, but it was different from New York. His father was the new sheriff of the county, since the old sheriff had retired or something. Derek didn't really know, he didn't really care either. 

Beacon Hills was different, sure, but Derek liked the woods near his house and he liked the privacy they had. Back in New York it was hard to hide their supernatural behavior, it worked though, nobody knew their secret.

Derek was staring through the window, when somebody spoke to him. 

"Yo, man, you new, right?" Derek turned his head around to see a boy with brown hair and brown eyes on his right.

Derek just nodded twice.

"I'm Scott man," he extended his hand, which Derek shook a little cautiously. Derek had smelled the satisfaction, that was coming off Scott, the minute he stepped in the classroom. It was the kind of satisfaction only the upper class of high school had. And Derek didn't like it, absolutely not.

Scott rattled some more, he had pointed out some of the other upper class high schoolers and told him their names. There was Allison, his girlfriend; her best friend, Lydia; her boyfriend, Jackson and his best friend Danny.

Derek noted that Danny was looking a little too long at him and turned away, a little uncomfortable.

"I'm Derek," he said.

"Cool, dude," Scott answered again. "We don't really get a lot of new people, what brings you here?"

Derek just shrugged. "Uh, my dad's work."

This interested Jackson, because he joined the conversation. "Is he our new sheriff?"

Lydia and Allison stopped their conversation and tuned in, also eager to know.

Derek swallowed. He didn't know whether it was good or bad to be the sheriff's son, but he decided to tell the truth. "Yeah, that's my dad."

Jackson grinned. "Nice."

Derek wanted to ask why it was nice. It was just a job, it wasn't like Derek got special privileges, it was rather the opposite. But exactly at that moment, the teacher walked in and started to write something on the board.


"Attention," he demanded, while he was looking around. Derek's classmates totally ignored their teacher and he looked a little stunned. Back at his old school, it was much more ordered. Sure, there were occasions when they had a little too much fun, but not while a teacher was waiting on them, they had fun after school.

"McCall, Whittemore, shut it, or you can scrub some tables after school," their teacher threatened.

Scrub some tables? Derek frowned in disgust and Scott started laughing about his complexion. 

"Welcome, to BHHS," he whispered, before their teacher could finally start their lesson.

After twenty minutes, almost half an hour since the older man had walked inside the classroom, their teacher noticed Derek. 

"So, that is how you can see at the formula, why plastic is non-degradable and—" their teacher looked right into Derek's eyes, finally noticing that someone was there, sitting in the chair that had, probably, been empty earlier that year. "Well, well," he started, with a smug grin, but Derek could smell the confusion coming off from him. "Who do we have here?"

Derek frowned. What kind of question was that, halfway in the lesson? He just sighed and went with it. "My name is Derek Hale, sir."

"Stand when you talk, rotter," he almost snarled back.

Derek could hear his peers laughing about his behavior, but Derek hadn't done it on purpose and it only made the teacher's heartbeat rise. Derek sighed, he wasn't in for trouble today, so he rose and repeated his sentence.

"What are you doing here? Especially in Stilinski's seat?" The man's eyes grew, as if he had let something slip. It stayed eerie silent for a moment, before Jackson opened his mouth again.

"Stilisnki isn't here anymore, so stop the drama, you're even worse than Lydia," he rolled his eyes. Lydia looked a little shocked, slapping his shoulder. Derek could, once again, smell the satisfaction though. It was as if she didn't get enough attention from him and she was satisfied that he talked about her, that kind of satisfaction.

"That's it, Whittemore, just because daddy is rich, you think you can do whatever you want?" the man snarled. "You can't even tell me what I just talked about, what I'm trying to teach you—"

Derek mumbled a quick answer, it wasn't even supposed to be hard enough so Jackson could hear him, but it happened. "Plastic is a polyethylene, that's why it's non-degradable."

Their teacher huffed and turned around to write the pages of their workbook down, so they could make their assignments. When Derek looked back at Jackson, he was grinning at him, mouthing a thank you. Derek just shrugged and turned around again. Who was this so-called Stilinski?



"That was awesome, man," Scott clapped Derek on his back, as they left Harris' room. That wouldn't be a name Derek would forget soon.

Derek smiled at him, he started to like Scott, he was kind of normal for an upper class high schooler. "It was nothing, just didn't like the man."

Scott wrapped his arm around Derek's shoulder, "That horrible thing back there, is not a man, it's just an awful thing."

"He always like that?" Derek asked with a little frown, it wouldn't make chemistry any better. 

Scott just laughed, opening the doors to, what Derek assumed, the cafeteria. "Welcome, at our place," he said pulling Derek towards a table at the center of the place. Jackson and Danny were already seated, Lydia and Allison were trailing behind Scott and him.

Derek sat down next to Scott and Danny. Jackson and Lydia were sitting at the other side of the table. With Allison next to her best friend — well, Derek assumed they were best friends.

The teenagers started to talk, and Derek just listened, he had never really been an active talker. Suddenly Lydia turned her full attention on Derek, which made him slightly self-conscious, but he ignored it and manned up. Looking her in the eyes, he frowned a little.

"So, Derek," she purred. Immediately Jackson and Allison's attention were on Lydia and soon their whole table looked at him.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Where you from?" the redhead asked.

"New York."

Scott whistled. "Sweet, what the hell are you doing here?"

"My father got a job here, and my mother has always wanted to move to a small town," Derek answered again. He was honest and he could almost smell how interested they were in him, which made him shift in his seat. He was not good at talking and absolutely not good in talking about himself, while five people he had just met were this interested in him.

"Siblings?" Allison asked.

"Older and younger sister, the younger one goes here too," he gave her a small smile. He loved his family, his sisters were as important as his parents and even though Derek wasn't somebody to just say 'I love you', he did love them. They are his family, his pack.

"You like girls?" Danny asked suddenly.

"Sure," Derek nodded a little vague. It felt weird, as if the five of them were invading his privacy, while this was just normal small talk, he guessed. They were just trying to get as much information from him, as they had done with each other through the years Derek wasn't here.

"What about boys?" Danny asked again, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh," Derek coughed. "Not really my scene, man," he rubbed his neck, feeling his cheeks warm up. He looked a little around. It was not lunchtime; they just had a free period, Derek noticed. Otherwise, the cafeteria would be full of students: freshmen, sophomores, juniors and seniors. Derek felt more like a freshman than a senior at the moment

"So, how about you guys?" Derek tried to change the subject. It worked. Lydia started to rattle about her dog, Prada, and Allison and Scott told about their relationship. Danny told him he was, indeed as Derek had suspected, gay and asked him to be his new wingman.

"Not really my thing," Derek mumbled.

Danny laughed, showing his dimples and two rows of pearl white teeth. "Not really my scene, not really my thing," he impersonated him.

Derek just smiled at the table, knowing Danny didn’t mean to hurt him, as the others laughed.

"Yeah, dude," Jackson spoke up. "What is your 'thing'?" he asked, making the quotation marks and all.

That was a good question. Sure, Derek knew what he liked; he liked reading and staying at home. He liked cooking with his dad for the pack and helping Cora with her homework. He liked making his mom happy, by buying her stuff or helping with chores. He even liked to go shopping with Laura, even though he acted like he hated it. He loved to take care of people, of the plants in their garden, of the animals he used to have back in New York. He just liked to please people, it pleased him. "Dunno, I like basketball," he shrugged nonchalantly.

Jackson nodded, sizing him up. "You any good?"

"I think I'm alright," Derek answered again. He was better than alright, he was good. His trophies at home proved it, the scholarship he had gotten offered proved that too. Derek wasn't someone to brag about it though.

It stayed quiet for a few more moments, Jackson was still sizing him up. This time it didn't make Derek uncomfortable, rather it made him proud. He was good at something and he liked it. Almost as much as he liked the way Jackson felt: like he had competition. Derek wasn't like that, he didn't care about his status, but if Jackson was marking his territory, he would play the game with him.

While Derek was completely in his own thoughts, the others made small talk with each other again. Derek felt accepted, which felt weird. Not like Derek had never been accepted, or anything, but more that he was accepted by them. The Upper Class. Mostly they were small circles who only dated each other and hung out with each other. It was just plain weird that Derek was one of them.

"Yeah, I heard it," Danny answered, pulling Derek from his own mind. "He was drunk again, I could hear him from my room."

Derek looked at Danny. Who were they talking about?

"Poor man," Allison joined the conversation. Lydia turned around to look at her with a frown. "I mean he is still human, he's all alone now."

"I'd be happy," Jackson snarled. 

"No, you wouldn't," Scott defended his girlfriend, siding with her.

"Everything better than to be with him, we're better off without him."

Danny huffed. "Dude, that's harsh, even for you."

Jackson frowned hard, he was getting annoyed. Derek could hear his heart beating faster. "Wow, losers," Jackson rolled his eyes, "Just because of what happened, doesn't mean anything changed."

"Show some respect, you always think everything is about you," Danny responded angry. Derek hadn't thought he could get angry, with the dimpled cheeks and the smile that seemed plastered on his face. "Try and be more sensitive."

Jackson's left eyebrow shot up. "I'm not a fag."

It stayed quiet for a while, Danny was looking at Jackson as if he couldn't believe what he just had said. Jackson's face was the same as before: annoyed, but Derek could smell the guilt coming off from him. Derek was shocked, they were friends, right? Why would anybody want to hang out with a douche like that? 

"So, how about Allison and I show you your locker?" Scott suddenly asked, trying to lighten the mood. It took Derek a few moments to understand it was a question for himself. 

He faced his neighbor and nodded. "Yeah, sure, thanks." The three of them stood up, but Lydia stopped her girl friend.

"Don't think so, I need her."

Allison smiled apologetically at them and walked away with the redhead. As soon as they were gone, Danny stood up too and stormed away. Just a few seconds later Jackson almost ran away, which made Scott and him the only people at the table.

Scott just shrugged to himself and turned to face him with a smile. "You know your number?"

"Yeah, 1075," Derek answered. He had wanted to go in the morning, but he had been a little late to school, because Cora had occupied the bathroom all morning.

The look on Scott's face fell, only for a second, but it did change. Besides, Derek could smell the different feelings coming from him, which made him frown.

"Okay, let's go," he walked towards the doors and into the corridor. "I'm sorry, they're not always like this... or actually they are," he smiled sheepishly, rubbing his neck. "Jackson is a douche, but his heart is in the right place," he explained and murmured a 'sometimes' behind it. If Derek wasn't a supernatural creature, he wouldn't have heard it. "Danny is really sensitive, like really really, that's why he always cares about so many people.

But besides that, Jackson still hasn't fully accepted that his best friend is gay. It's not like he can't accept that he's gay," he defended him quickly, "but more like— he feels kind of awkward, he doesn't really know how to act sometimes, he does understand that he's still good old Danny, but he can be a real pain in the ass." Scott had been rattling the whole way to Derek's new locker and suddenly they were standing there, in front of locker 1075. It was slightly damaged and Derek could smell the fresh paint, it had been repainted; the others hadn't. 

"Do you know your code?" Scott asked.

Derek just nodded. "Yeah, thanks for showing me around, Scott," he said to him. Scott was nice, he talked a lot, sure, but he was nice. They could be friends Derek thought. He grabbed the lock and heard Scott's mobile vibrate. Within a few seconds Scott unlocked his phone, read — probably Allison's — text, excused himself and raced off. Leaving a lingering smell of excitement. 

Derek frowned again, wrinkling his nose and unlocked his locker. With a hard sound something fell out of his locker onto the floor. Sighing he bend over and grabbed the dark brown notebook. 

It wasn't his. So, whose was it? And what did it do in his locker? He wanted to loosen the strings around it so he could read what it was, but exactly at that moment he heard the school bell. As fast as he could he stuffed the book back in his locker, with the other books he didn't need and looked at his schedule. Economics, from Mr. Finstock.

Derek listened to the people around him, trying to search for Scott or Danny, or at least someone. He didn’t know the school that well and was scared to get lost and arrive too late at class. Sure, it was his first day, so the teacher wouldn’t mind, but he would mind, because it meant a lot of people would be looking at him and Derek just didn’t like it. Only thinking about it, made Derek shiver.

Suddenly he heard Scott. “We can also just skip, Coach wouldn’t mind.” Allison giggled. Derek could hear a zipper going down and zoned them out as fast as possible. He didn’t want to know what they were doing, he just wanted to go to room B417.

Hopeless, Derek tried again. This time he could hear Danny, he was talking with Lydia about Jackson and thank God, they were near him. Derek followed their sounds and met them around the corner.

“Hey, Derek,” Lydia smiled.

“Hi,” he greeted back, “Could you guys tell me where B417 is?” He asked, his voice probably sounding stressed.

Danny laughed at him. “Sure, you got Economics, right?”

Derek nodded, with a little frown. Together they walked towards the room and Derek noticed how many people actually went to this school, for such a small town.



Derek was staring through the window. He could smell the woods, the teacher – whom seemed to be the lacrosse coach – liked to open all the windows in his room.

He sighed again, scribbling something down he heard Coach's mouth leave. His thoughts were at the book in his locker. Sure, it was possible that someone had been the owner of the locker before Derek came here. But why would they leave their notebook? What was in it? Did they leave it on purpose? 

Derek had gotten a weird feeling when he had picked it up. He hadn't processed the weird feeling at the moment, since he was a little stressed because he would probably be too late — which he wasn't. Right now, though, he could remember how he felt.

The clock was ticking loud and clear, indicating the last few minutes of the boring lesson. Their teacher was weird, kind of funny, but it annoyed Derek that he didn't know anything about the mysterious notebook. Maybe it was nothing, Derek said to himself, maybe he was stressing about nothing. Probably. It has to be someones notebook, with stupid notes from Harris' class, or Coach's, or maybe it was empty.

He sighed again.

"For the love of God," Finstock yelled again. "Why is there no one who understands this?" He turned around and wrote another formula on the board. "It's simple, it's like having three apples, but you've bought five, so you had to give two to the—" 

The sound of the school bell interrupted the lesson abruptly and before anybody could move, Derek fled the room; towards his locker. He had to know what it was and nobody would stop him.

A few minutes later Derek had found an abandoned, little place, it had also a large window and Derek could sit down in the windowsill — which he did. He opened the notebook and looked at the sentences, they were scribbled down. The handwriting wasn't beautiful, but it was readable. 

“Sometimes I just want to dissapear. Today was one of those days. Sure I'm lucky that no one physically hurt me today, but Jackson is still a douche. I don't understand how this all happened... It was just one of those days that I felt alone, maybe because nobody touched me today, nobody even talked to me today.

Derek frowned, shaking his head. It was someone's diary. Somebody left their diary in Derek's locker? That was just plain stupid. Derek felt uncomfortable reading further, so he closed the book. Sure, he wanted to know who the writer was and why they hated Jackson, or why they were so sad. But it was not his place to know.                             

He lasted like that for exactly six seconds. "Oh, screw it," he mumbled, opening the book again, this time on the first page. He looked at the weird name in front of him. 

Mieczyslaw Stilinski. 

Chapter Text


I still don't understand what's happening. Suddenly Scott doesn't talk to me anymore and other people look at me as if I have a nasty illness. They rather walk an extra mile than be in my vicinity.

"Scott," I plead, "Come on." He looks at me with a frown and his face hints at a form of disgust as he walks away. "I don't even know what I did," I trail off as he walks away.

I try to replay the weekend in my head, but there are holes, a lot of them. It had been Jackson's birthday and even though we didn't like each other, I went. I even brought a present. There were lots of alcohol, a lot of dancing, kissing and apparently blacking out.

I sigh and rub my face—

"Whatcha doing?"

Derek almost falls of his place and closes the diary as fast as he can. How could he not have heard the redhead approach? "I was reading," Derek answers truthfully

Lydia lifts her eyebrow. "Yeah, I know, let's go," she says, letting him off too easily. He could smell her curiosity as she eyes him and the book, which he puts in his backpack as fast as he can. 

Once they walk inside the cafeteria, Derek could see, smell and hear that it was break time. Everywhere were people, literally everywhere, the canteen was probably a little too small for all the students of Beacon Hills High School. 

They arrived at the same tables they were seated earlier and Derek noticed three other people sitting with them; two guys and a girl. He just sat down. 

"Yo, Derek," Scott smiled. "Where you been man?"

Derek shrugged. "Couldn't find the cafeteria, Lydia saved me though."

Scott nodded. "Do you have PE next period?" 

Derek frowned. He couldn't remember, so he grabbed his schedule to check. He indeed had Physical Education after the break. "Yeah, I do, you too?" 

"Yeah man, you, me, Jackson, Isaac, Boyd, Erica and Danny."

Allison rolled her eyes. "You could also have said that you all had PE, except for Lyds and me."

"Smart thinking," he grinned at her and pecked her on the mouth. 

"Oh, so you're the new kid," the girl, probably Erica, made the statement.

Derek nodded twice.

"Not really a speaker, I see," she pouted her lips and tried to calculate him.

Derek frowned he did not like the way the girl was looking at him. He just wanted to go home and read further in that damn diary. Maybe he should start from the beginning, because even though he did not understand what really had happened in the short part that he had read earlier, Stilinski could write. As if on automatic pilot a movie had played in his mind, while he was reading the boy's story.

The rest of the day kind of went by in a blur. Derek had more classes, met some other people, still didn't like Jackson, but it was finally over. He could go home, which he was doing.

He opened the door of his car to throw his bag inside whereafter he got in, started the motor and wanted to drive away, until he realized something.

"Shit," he cursed. He totally forgot his sister. He had to drive her home too. Derek groaned letting his head fall down on the steering wheel as he realized something else: she had another period. So, that meant Derek had to wait a whole period.

He grabbed his phone and texted Cora, hoping that he was lucky.





He sighed. So what was he going to do now?

He grabbed his bag and opened it, so he could grab the diary; at least the time would fly while he did some reading. There he sat, in his car, in the middle of the parking lot, with Stilinski's diary in his hands. He felt a little ashamed. It was not his place to read someone else's diary, even though they were so stupid as to leave it in the — maybe: their old — locker. Soon the feeling faded and he opened the thick book. Maybe he should start from the beginning, so that's what he did. He turned the first page and started reading.

Tears were rolling down my face. I don't know what to do, or what to write. The only thing I know is that mum is dead and she wanted me to write in this stupid journal. 

I was currently sitting in the corner of my room, with the large journal in between my legs and a pen in my hand. I bit my lip as I brought the pen to the paper. 'Dear Diary,' I wrote, where after I crossed it out immediately.

"I'm not some poor little girl," I mumbled to myself. 

'Hi there, journal,'  I crossed it out again. As if it was a human, besides it sounded too happy and I wasn't - happy that is. I huffed, closed the diary and threw it to the other corner of my room, struggling to get in bed as fast as possible.

Derek turned the page again after a few minutes, done with the first page, but he saw it was different than the one before, so he checked if Stilinski had written a date. He had. The first page was written om June 2004.

"Jesus," he muttered. That's almost fourteen years ago.

Derek checked the date of the second page and noted that is was ten years later, June 2014.

While I was cleaning I found this diary. Mom gave it to me a few days before she died. Dad's still affected by her death, but nobody seems to notice. Maybe that's because when he's with people other than me, he's the good old sheriff he's always been. But I know better. I know how grumpy he gets when he comes home, how he starts drinking the moment he closes the door behind him. I know he blames me. I killed my mom. 

Derek stopped reading. "What the fuck," he whispered. What sort of crazy diary was this? Had somebody really been through this? Had someone really killed their own mother? 

Derek bit his lip, thinking about the person who had written this, as he frowned. It was a guy, Derek knew that, he had some crazy name, which he could barely pronounce. Also, he had been going to BHHS, he knew Scott and Jackson.

And Harris apparently, Derek remembered his sudden outburst when he had been sitting in Stilinski's seat earlier. 

Derek opened the journal again, the page he had been reading contained some doodles and a few other words. He didn't understand the words that were written down, probably because it was a foreign language. 

Derek grabbed his phone, wanting to know what the guy had written down. He typed the sentence 'Co po trzeźwemu myśli, to po pijanemu powie' and Google Translate helped him to understand it says 'What one thinks when sober, one says when drunk'. 

Google Translate also told him it was Polish. Is this guy Polish? It wouldn't surprise Derek, that would be the reason the name was hard to pronounce. 

Derek still didn't understand any of it. Why would someone leave their journal at such a vulnerable place? Was it on purpose? If you moved house, you would take at least your journal with you, wouldn't you? Derek didn't know he had never had a journal, but it seems normal to take your personal stuff with you if you moved. 

"Maybe he didn't move," Derek suddenly mumbled. But why didn't he go to Beacon Hills High School anymore? Derek still didn't understand. Back in New York he would have thought the boy went to another High School, but Beacon Hills was too small. The town only had one high school. 

Derek suddenly smelled distress. But it wasn't his own smell, it came from somewhere.

He looked down at the book and sniffed it. A hundred different smells hit him and he wrinkled his nose. 

"Jesus," he muttered again. What was that?

He tried again, trying to distinguish the different smells. He smelt fear, distress, sadness. It all it him hard in his gut, as if someone had punched him there only seconds ago. 

Derek gasped. What is going on? Why does the journal smell like that? Is it because of the boy, the owner of the thick book? Is the journal reflecting his feelings?

Derek didn't understand any of it. He didn't know someone could feel so bad in their lives. He didn't even know people wrote in journals anymore, so that doesn't say much. 

He sighed and opened the book again, checking the time on his watch. Cora would be here within ten minutes, so he could read another part of the journal if he hurried. The page he was going to read dated from September 2014. 

Today was a good day. I thought as I walked toward my jeep, with Scott. We had both made first line with Lacrosse. So that is amazing. My father hasn't been home for a few days, because he is away, fixing some problems in other towns in Beacon County. Which feels amazing too. I am happy, sincere happy. I haven't been happy in a long, long time. 

"Your dad still away?" Scott asks, when we were finally seated inside my jeep. I nod. "That sucks," he answers.

I bit my lip. "Yeah," I mumble soft, totally lying. I wasn't about to tell my best friend about my dad. That was none of his business. 

Derek frowned. He didn't know much about best friends, but weren't they supposed to be the people whom you told everything? So why would Stilinski lie about the fact that he missed his dad? Why didn't he miss his dad? Derek already had the feeling that Stilinski and his dad didn't have a great band, but did it really suck that much?

He sighed. Everything in the damn book was a mystery. Sure, Stilinski wrote amazing, but everything was so vague.

After I parked my jeep in front of our house and had given Scott a ride home, I walked inside. I drop my bag, next to the door and kick off my shoes. Life as a sophomore feels good, I grin at myself. 

Whistling some annoying song they keep repeating on the radio, I walk towards the kitchen, to grab some water. Turning around I walk to the living room, but stop walking and whistling when I see my dad sitting on the couch, his head in his hands.

"D-dad, hey," I stuttered. As fast as I can, I clear my throat, opening my mouth again. "Home already? How'd go?" I ask with a small smile.

He doesn't answer and I start biting my lip when I see the scotch in front of him. I had to stop talking, he didn't like it if I talked as much as I normally do, especially when his work didn't go as planned, or when he was trying to rest and have a drink. Which was most of the time. 

Unfortunately  my head and mouth don't work together. So, I know I need to shut up, but I don't. "It didn't go as planned, did it? That's okay, you can't do everything perfect in life. Next time, it will go as you want. It always works out like you want it to, dad, so don't worry. Besides, great news, Coach finally let me play, I made first line, isn't that amazing? Scott too, we're both finally playing. For real! The first game is already in three weeks, so we need to train a lot. I have Mr. Harris again, unfortunately, I was hoping I wouldn't have him for chemistry this year, but yeah, that's what happens, no good things happen to me, as you know. That's probably because I'm some sort of weird magnet for-"

"Shut up," dad murmured. "Shut the fuck up, already, don't you see I want to have a little silence?" he asks louder, looking me straight in my eyes. "Jesus, kid, you're awful." He grabs his glass and the bottle and disappears, probably going to his room. 

I stay behind, biting my lip and holding back the tears. "Stupid," I mumbled, hitting my head with my hand, "I'm so stupid." Groaning, I sat down on the couch. I didn't mean to talk that much, it just happened. I had wanted to make small talk, cheer him up - which apparently is impossible, I have been trying it for ten years - and just tell him about my first days of school, since he hadn't been here. 

"At least he didn't hit me," I whisper gladly to myself.

"Fuck," Derek curses loud, as Cora knocks on the window, startling him. That was the second time that day. He shakes his head, opening the door for his sister. Shit.



Derek still hadn't fully processed what Stiles had said about his dad. Apparently he was some kind of business man, who had business in other towns, he probably had a drinking problem and he apparently blamed his kid for his wife's death. Also, he was abusive. What had happened in that family that made the man so bitter? 

"Are you full?" his mom asks, making him stop thinking and process that they were having diner. 

He shook his head, stopped playing with his peas and started eating his food.

"What's on your mind, son?" his father asked. Since it had been their first day at school, his mother had demanded he would have dinner at home, instead of at the station. 

"Nothing," Derek mumbled immediately. He knew they would know he was lying, but he didn't really care. He was just trying to figure some things out, it wasn't really important enough to tell his parents. At least, not right now.

"Liar," Laura snorted.

Derek growled at her.

"Enough," Talia demanded.

Immediately everybody went back to eating, in silent.

"How was school?" their mother asked. 

Cora started talking about the friends she had made and the stupid teachers she had already met. She ended her story with asking if she could go to a party coming weekend.

"We'll see," Talia said, at the same time their father happily agreed that she could go.

Their parents looked at each other for a few seconds and smiled at each other. Derek knew his parents were still madly in love with each other, even after all those years.

"What about you, Derek?" Eric asked curious. 

He just shrugged, taking another bite of his food. "It was okay."

"Okay?" Cora asked in disbelief. "Mom, dad, he has friends," Cora was still acting as if she was in shock, which was maybe a little real. "On his first day! Can you believe that he interacted with people, he even had lunch with them," she gasps.

Derek can feel the eyes of his family on him, but he just keeps looking at his food, stuffing his mouth with as much as fits inside of it.

"That's nice," Talia answered genuine. Sure, Derek wasn't really someone to put himself out there, but he was never a loner. Never. Even though his parents thought he was, he didn't feel lonely. He liked to be alone, but there is a difference.

"It's more than nice," Cora said, again in fake disbelief. "Mom, dad, Derek is interacting with popular people."

Derek looked just in time at her, to see her wipe some non-existing tears. He rolled his eyes.

"They are just kids like us," he mumbled.

Laura snorted again. "Well actually they aren't," she said with a grin, flashing her golden eyes at him. 

"How was work, sweetheart?" 

His dad grinned and started to tell about his deputies and about some weird cases. But all with all, it was fairly calm in comparison with New York, where he had worked for the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

"I still don't understand why we had to move," Laura sighs. She was the only one who thought it was horrible to move to Beacon Hills. She had broken up with her boyfriend because of it, maybe that was the main cause of her anger. 

"You know why," their dad sighed. "I had to come and work here, they needed a new sheriff."

"Eric, you don't have to explain it again, we have been explaining it all summer," Talia interfered.

But Laura was not happy with the answer. "There are so many other people who could do it, and besides what happened to their old sheriff? Unless he died, I still think it's bullshit we're here, even if he died," Laura rattled annoyed.

"Language," their mom stated. She didn't even had to raise her voice, or use her Alpha voice. Everybody knew that it was better to listen to Talia. 

"He was unfit for the job," their dad explained.

"What do you mean, dad?" Cora asked, suddenly intrigued by the fact that a sheriff can be unfit for the job.

"He had some problems... with drinking," Eric answered not sure of himself. 

Talia hummed, "Poor man."

"Yeah," their dad nodded. "Lost his wife and all."

Suddenly Derek perked up. "What?" he mumbled, "What was his name again?" he asked, looking at his dad.

"John, uh," Eric answered, while thinking. "He had some foreign last name, it was..."

"Stilinski?" Derek asked, after giving his dad a few moments to think about it.

Eric nodded. "Yeah, yeah, that's it," he agreed. "How'd you know, son?" he asked.

Suddenly Derek felt his family's eyes on him again and he cleared his throat a little uncomfortable. "His, uhm, his son went to my school."

"Which one is he? The one with the big brown eyes and the beautiful girlfriend?" Cora suddenly asked. "Or that lacrosse captain, Lydia's boyfriend?"

She looked in anticipation at Derek, who just stared at her dumbfounded. How did she know all that after just one day? 

"No, no, I know, it's that other boy, who looks at you like you're some delicious candy," she grinned, her eyes sparkling.

Laura started laughing, soon his parents followed, as Derek's neck and the tip of his ears turned red.

"He doesn't look at me like I'm candy," Derek muttered embarrassed. 

"Baby sis, you need to listen carefully," Laura said, wiping the tears from her eyes. "He said 'went', as in past tense."

"Oh, well," Cora shrugged, "Why doesn't he go to BHHS anymore?" Cora had always been curious, she got it from their dad.

Derek shrugged. "Moved house, I guess."

His family kept talking for a while, but Derek zoned out. He was a little closer to understanding Stilinski's journal. His dad was the sheriff. 

Chapter Text

It had been three days.

Three whole days.

Derek was proud of himself: he had been abandoning the diary.

The night he was laying in bed on his first school day, he couldn't sleep. He kept thinking about how he didn't have time for such weird mysteries and how he just wanted to focus on school, get a high GPA and go to a wonderful university or college — he wasn't sure yet.

But his fingers were itching and he couldn't focus. He kept thinking about the boy and his dad, who had been the previous sheriff. A sheriff who had drinking problems and was probably an abusive father. Also, the boy had lost his mother. Did he have any other relatives? Did he ran away? Or did he just move house? Maybe the county had placed him out of his own home, to protect him from his father. Maybe the sheriff had murdered his own child.

Derek's eyes grew big, as a soft gasp left his mouth. No. No of course not. This is not some weird horror movie, this was reality. 

Derek sighed again, he was currently sitting at school again. It was Friday today, he had survived a whole week of school. Scott and his friends had warmed up to Derek and Derek was surprisingly okay with it. He didn't mind them talking and asking so much and they didn't mind him not talking so much.


Derek blinked a few times, hearing the sound from his right side, where Scott was seated, as usual. He turned towards him, cocking his head a little to the left.

"You coming tonight, right?" Scott asked, with a grin.

Jackson was throwing a we-survived-the-first-week-of-school-party. Apparently these kids weren't even looking for a legitimate reason to party, they just liked to get drunk every week.

Derek didn't want to go, he wasn't really the out-going type. And they knew that, that was why Jackson had made him a bet. It was some weird part of 'the initiation'. Jackson was currently holding the record of drinking the most drinks without getting drunk and if Derek could beat him he was the new 'king'. Derek had rolled his eyes at him, but couldn't withstand Jackson's cockiness. Besides, Derek would definitely win, but only he knew that.

"Yeah, I'll be there," he answered. 

Scott's grin got even wider. "Wicked."

Derek focused on his task again. They were having Art and Derek was okay at drawing, he even liked it a lot. He was almost done with his drawing. It was a wineglass and behind it you could see the Eiffel tower and a sky with a lot of clouds. Derek had made an upside down reflection of the Eiffel tower in the wine and was currently adjusting some shadow.

"That's really beautiful, Lydia," Allison said genuine. Derek looked over at her piece of paper and bit his lip. 

Lydia hummed. "I keep drawing them, I like drawing trees."

Derek recognized the tree immediately. His mom had told them about Nemetons when they were little, but he was surprised Lydia knew them. How did she know of them, at all?

Jackson scoffed, he was just drawing stickmen all over his paper. "Trees don't look like that, they have leaves."

"Yeah, I know," Lydia mumbled quickly "You're right."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Well, technicaly not all trees have leaves, especially in the winter," she answered with a 'duh'-sound. 

Derek nodded. She was right, but he just wanted to know how Lydia knew the Nemeton. Maybe she just liked to draw trees that way, but Derek was still frowning a little. You don't just draw trees like that, no one does. 



Derek grinned, as Jackson slumped a little. He had won, of course he had. He wasn't drunk, not at all. The alcohol didn't work on him, but nobody had to know that. 

"Damn, bro," Scott hollered in his ear, loud enough to make Derek wince. "You're a beast."

Derek clapped him on his shoulder, still grinning as he walked towards te kitchen. It was a little less louder in here, so Derek could catch his breath. Inside it had been so loud and there were so many smells. 

Derek wasn't new to this, he had learned how  to control it. He had learned how to suppress it. He could do it, but sometimes it slipped. Sometimes everything overwhelmed him a bit. 

"Hey, Derek." He didn't recognize the voice, so he turned around and saw a petite girl. She had blond hair, almost a shade of light brown and green eyes. He had seen her a few times at school and in some of his classes. 

"Hey," he mumbled, staring at her cleavage. She had nice boobs and they were sitting there, right in front of Derek's eyes in her green shirt. He bit his lip and teared his eyes away. 

"That was pretty impressive," she complimented him. Referring to the drinking match — at least he hoped. "I'm Hannah, we've bio together."

"And math," Derek grinned at her. 

She looked a little surprised, but soon she recovered and smiled at him. "Yeah, we do."

It stayed silent for a moment, they were only staring at each other. Derek had smelled the arousal the moment she walked inside the kitchen, but now he was going to act on it. 

"You want to go upstairs?" he asked, cocking his head a little to the left. 

She smiled again, showing all her teeth, and dimples appearing in either cheek. "I thought you'd never ask." 

In less than half a minute they were up in – probably – Jackson's room kissing and exploring each others' bodies. A soft whimper left Hannah's mouth as Derek kissed her neck.

Her hands opened Derek's belt as they shuffled towards the big bed. He lifted her a bit, to put her softly in the middle of it. The girl moaned again as Derek rubbed himself against her, wiggling out of his jeans. 

She pulled her shirt off, revealing her pretty boobs inside of a laced bra. His mouth immediatly went to them, kissing and licking at her soft skin, as she panted and whimpered under him. 

"I want you inside me," she whispered against his ear.

Derek grinned and nodded, stripping her naked and pulling his boxer off, too. He didn't have a condom and he didn't need one, but he looked at the girl's face. 

With a grin she opened her mouth. "I'm all clean," she said lifting her left eyebrow, while her eyes were glistening. 

He got what she meant. She wanted to do it without a condom. He bit his lip. "Me too," he whispered. He shoved the thought of getting her pregnant away and positioned himself at her entrance, pressing himself inside with a small sigh. 

The girl shrieked. "Jesus, warn a gir-oh."

Derek cupped her breasts and started to kiss the hard nipples as he pulled and pushed himself in and out of the petite girl. 

"Oh, God, yes," she moaned loud, arching her back. 

Derek felt her hands in his hair, softly pulling at it. After a few minutes he could feel a familiar pull in his stomach and he sighed. 

As fast as he could he pressed his thumb against a sensitive spot of the girl and started circling. 

"Oh fuck," she whined. "Yes, yes, don't stop."

He circled faster, still slaming inside her small body, his hips hitting her behind.

"Derek," she screamed loud, as her body shuddered. She grabbed his hand and kept rubbing herself through her orgasm. Eventually she stopped moving altogether, sighing deeply. 

Derek had stopped moving, giving her a moment to catch her breath, but within seconds she was ready. She pulled herself away from him, so he slipped out of her. 

Before Derek could protest, a frown already on his face, Hannah took his cock in her mouth. 

"Shit," he murmured and pushed himself even more inside, as he looked at her. Tears formed in her eyes, her small mouth prettily wrapped around his red and leaking cock. 

Derek put his hands in her hair and started moving her head. He didn't really care about the fact that he was probably a little too rough. Rocking his hips and pushing her head closer everytime took it's toll and soon he felt his climax building up again. 

"Gonna come," he warned low. He pulled his hands away from her, giving her the choice.

Hannah pushed his hips down on the mattress and deep-troathed as fast as she could. 

A loud groan escaped Derek's mouth as his hips twitched, probably chocking the girl, and he came in her mouth. 

She scraped her teeth against his sensitive base and licked once at his slit, making him groan again. It didn't really hurt that much, but he was really sensitive at the moment.

"That," she kissed his tigh, "was," she kissed his public hair, "really," she mumbled as she kissed his stomach, kissing up until she reached his chin. The girl looked into his eyes and she bit her lip, her eyes sparkling. "Amazing," she finished her sentence as she pecked him on his mouth. 

Derek just closed his mouth, agreeing with a soft sound. It was nice, not amazing, but not not amazing either. Could have been better, could have gone worse. It was a meh. 6/10 probably. 

Derek snapped out of his thoughts, feeling stupid to think like that. Her boobs were nice, probably 7/10. 

"Shit," the girl suddenly cursed. "Todd is going to kill me," she whispsered a little afraid. 

"Who?" Derek asked, not even really caring, as he was still laying on Jackson's bed, his arm laying on the part of his face were his eyes were positioned. 

"Todd, my boyfriend," she said as if Derek knew about her relationship. 

"Oh," he mumbled, still enjoying the darkness of his arm on his eyes. He didn't know, but it was her problem, not his. 

"Oh?" she asked a little offended. Derek could smell some anger coming off of her. 

"Yeah," he murmered back, not even bothering with any more. 

The girl stood up and put her clothes on as fast as she could, not even bothering with a goodbye as she slammed the door. 

Derek sighed, laying still for another few minutes, listening closely if people would come upstairs. He was still naked after all. 

When he though it was an appropriate time to go home, he stood up and glanced a little around as he put his clothes on. He was indeed in Jackson's room. 

There was a big bureau next to the window, with a lot of different Apple products. He had a large TV with some of the newest games and game consoles. Derek could see a special corner dedicated to signed stuff, signed basketball t-shirts, signed honkball balls, even a signed guitar. He rolled his eyes. 

"Rich people," he muttered to himself. 

Jackson's bed was a mess, Derek didn't care. What he did care about were the pictures on his nightstand. He walked a little closer and looked at a family portrait. Just his dad, his mom and him. A small family. 

The picture next to that was a collage from a few pictures from Lydia and him. She had probably forced him to put it there, or he did love her after all. 

But the picture that really caught his attention was a picture on the lacrosse field. Jackson had his arms wrapped around Lydia and Allison, Boyd was hugging Erica from behind, Isaac was standing next to them with a huge grin, his helmet still on. He saw Scott too, he was on top of somebody else, giving them a piggy ride. 

The thing that was off, was not the fact that Jackson had wrapped his arms around Scott's girlfriend. Or the fact that Isaac had probably felt a little left out with all the couples. Not even the fact that Danny was not in the picture at all.

No. The thing that was wrong, was that there was apparently a ninth member of their group of friends. A member that had apparently pissed off Jackson so much, that he had deserved to get his head scratched away.