It took less than a second for Stiles to screech his monologue about the futility of hand sanitizerto a halt (they only worked if applied AFTER washing your hands, and literally no one does that and so all they really do is make the bacteria more resistant--). Scott had been lounging on his bed, nodding along and happily ignoring Stiles, but now he looked hurt. More than that--he looked downright sad.
"What is it?" Stiles put down his hands from where he had been gesturing wildly with them. "It's not a big deal, just don't use hand sanitizer as a replacement for hand washing."
Scott waved him off. "It's not that. I just." He looked askance at his computer. "Never mind. It's nothing."
Oh, it was not nothing. Stiles went over and leaned into Scott. "Dude, what is it?"
Scott sighed heavily, but twisted the laptop so Stiles could see. It showed Scott's tumblr page--the ask portion, anyway. "Aw, your tumblr about the animals you treat at Deaton's? I love your tumblr."
Scott just shrugged. "Usually the asks I get are really nice, but..."
Stiles leaned until his chin was resting on Scott's shoulder.
Anonymous asked: You make me sick, exploiting these dumb animals for your own tree-hugging agenda. They're just going to die anyway? Why waste the time giving surgery to a fucking rabbit when it was probably just going to get eaten anyway?
"What," Stiles said. "What the actual fuck?"
"I don't even know why it's bothering me."
Stiles hugged him tightly. Scott made a little noise of surprise and also of maybe breathlessness (Stiles was clinging to him awfully tightly). "That person is an idiot."
"I know. I just." Scott didn't finish his sentence. He closed his laptop and let Stiles hug him.
The rest of their regularly scheduled Wednesday study session was filled with Mario Kart and many, many Doritos.
The next day at school, though, Scott was looking just as morose as he did last night. Stiles pulled him off to the side before they could even enter the building, and stared at Scott pointedly until Scott told him what was wrong.
"I got another ask last night."
"That idiot anon? About the letting the bunny die?" Stiles wasn't even sure if they were talking about a metaphorical bunny or if they were talking about that rabbit Scott helped Deaton operate on after it got a piece of wood impaled in its leg. It was a pet rabbit that had escaped its cage and made it out the dog door, if Stiles remembered correctly.
Scott nodded. "They said I was a 'disappointment.' I don't even know that that means."
Stiles hugged him, letting Scott rest his head against his shoulder. He made all the appropriate shushing and maternal noises, but inside he was planning some very not-nice things.
Like maybe asking Danny to trace an IP address for him.
Danny had the unmitigated gall to look around behind Stiles when Stiles asked him at lunch if he could trace an IP address for him. "What?" Stiles asked, turning around. No one was behind him. At least, no one who seemed like they were going attempt to stop Stiles from soliciting slightly less-than-legal information.
"Just checking to see if you brought your hot 'cousin' with you."
Stiles snorted in mock amusement. "No really, Danny. I'll pay you back later. Money. A favor. Whatever. Just, do this for me, okay?"
Danny crossed his arms, closed his eyes and sighed. Stiles was practically dancing on his tiptoes. Finally, Danny answered, "I'll think about it."
Danny shook his head. "I said I'll think about it." He made a shooing motion at Stiles, and backed away. "I'll text you later with my decision."
Stiles ground his teeth, but Danny was already walking away. Stiles decided to be preemptively grateful instead. "This means a lot to me, Danny! Thank you so much!" Half the nearby tables were staring at him, so Stiles smiled brightly. Whatever. They had no idea.
The rest of classes went by in a blur of lecture notes and half-formed plans of revenge. Something involving latex gloves--that much was certain. Scott still looked a bit out of it, but Allison and Erica, of all people, managed to cheer up through a scarily accurate reenactment of the latest episode of Supernatural. Erica played a compelling Dean Winchester.
It was after school that things started really looking up for Operation: Smite Scott's Haters. Stiles waved goodbye to Scott and climbed into his Jeep, only to be rudely interrupted by Derek, who was holding out his phone to him. Also sitting in his passenger seat.
"What the hell?"
"We need to do something about this." Derek thrust his phone closer to Stiles's face, practically hitting him with it. Stiles glared at Derek and his stupid phone before grabbing it and reading what was on the screen.
Scott had answered the anon ask.
ilovebbanimals answered: I'm really sorry you feel this way, anon. I do what I can to help all animals, because all animals deserve to live healthy, happy lives. Yes, sometimes nature can be harsh, but that does not mean that it's better to walk past a creature's suffering when we have the means and the ability to help. I value all life, and I will continue to do what I can to help and heal my patients.
I hope that one day you will understand that.
"Oh Scott." Stiles wasn't crying. He just must have something in his eye. "Oh Scotty, that was beautiful."
Derek sighed. "Yes, he expressed himself very eloquently. But look at the original ask."
Stiles looked. It was the ask from last night. He nodded heavily. "I've seen it."
Derek took his phone back, clicking the screen off and stuffing it into his pocket like it angered him. It probably did. "What are we going to do about it?"
"I've got Danny working on it. He's going to trace it and get me the address of this asshole. After that, the plan gets kind of fuzzy."
Derek's only response was to bare his teeth and growl. Stiles took that as a sign of assistance.
Even after a long night of intense wheedling, Stiles was still not able to convince Danny to get him the address of the fucker that insulted Scott.
Stiles: Come on, plz! It's like, life or death here, dude.
Danny: no it's not. it's about Scott.
Stiles: Then don't do it for me, do it for Scott!
Danny: you're not even making sense
Stiles: DANNY PLEASE GODDAMNIT GIVE ME THIS ASSHOLES ADDRESS
Stiles: ARGH I HATE YOU
Stiles had thrown his phone across the room in a fit of rage, and was now too sullen to actually get up and go after it. He lay on his bed, arm flung over his eyes.
That was, of course, how Derek found him when he snuck in through Stiles's window.
"Taking a dramatic pause?"
"Danny's being a shit," Stiles answered. "He won't get me the address."
At the sound of Derek's soft and muffled voice, not to mention the soft thump that accompanied it, like something had been dropped to the ground, Stiles sat up. Derek was standing in the middle of his room, having come in through the window (which wasn't unusual) wearing all black (also not unusual) and a ski mask (which definitely was). By his feet was a black duffel bag, and Stiles was going to take a guess that it was filled with crowbars and rope and other super cliché criminal tools.
"You look like a cartoon."
Derek glared at him. Even though Stiles couldn't see his eyebrows--or most of his face, for that matter--the look was still impressive. Stiles snorted. Derek rolled his eyes.
Stiles nodded at the duffel bag. "What's all that?"
Derek nudged the bag away with the toe of his boots (oh my god was he wearing biker boots?). "Nothing." He shrugged. "Just stuff."
"Right." Stiles sat up and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Well, none of it really matters if I can't get the asshole's address."
Derek leaned against Stiles's desk, folding his arms. He had the manners to lift up the ski mask so Stiles could actually see his face. "So what do we do now?"
Stiles flung his arms out wide. "I don't know. Buy a shit load of Red Vines and give them to Scott?"
Derek stared at him for a long moment. Stiles waited for the inevitable 'You're an idiot,' but instead Derek just nodded. "Okay."
Huh. Well, alright then.
While Scott very much appreciated all the Red Vines, apparently Stiles and Derek were late in the whole "Cheer Scott McCall Up Campaign." As soon as they showed up on his doorstep with their grocery sacks filled with candy (thanks to Derek's credit card. He didn't even blink at the charge), Scott flung open the door and ushered them inside. There, he showed them his tumblr blog.
"It's amazing! So many people are offering their comments and support! I'm just blown away by it all." Scott grinned from ear to ear, showing off each and every comment--which he had been reblogging faithfully as soon as he noticed them. And it was impressive. Scores of people where turning out to defend Scott's blog and to call out the utter asshole for his heartless words. In the swirling chaos of love and support, there were even a few mentions of trying to put a charity drive together for the veterinary clinic, but so far it didn't seem like that was coming together yet. Still, the thought alone was, in a word, amazing.
Stiles hugged Scott hard. "I'm so proud of you dude."
Even Derek looked a bit misty-eyed.
Later that night, after the three of them had stuffed themselves sick with Red Vines and Scott's secret stash of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups ("I knew you were holding out on me, man.") Stiles had to admit that maybe it was for the best that they didn't get the address to that anonymous poster that started this whole mess. Scott seemed so happy and centered and all the more inspired in his vet tech work; beating the tar out of the random dude that insulted him wouldn't have made Scott happy.
Although, it would have made Stiles happy. Derek probably, too.
Right before Stiles passed out for the night, he got a text from Danny.
Danny: Still want that guy's address?
Stiles mulled it over.
Stiles: Nah. Crisis has passed, dude.
Stiles put down the phone, feeling pretty proud of himself. Hah, maybe this is what they mean by "building character.”
Stiles: I mean, if you happen to ALREADY HAVE IT i wouldn't mind knowing...
Danny: Good night Stiles.
Stiles: srsly tho, if you got it, i want it.
Danny: i said GOOD NIGHT stiles.
Stiles: Night Danny. Thanks.
Danny: Do. Not. Mention it.
Stiles went to sleep, a huge grin on his face. All was right in the world.