Batman and Benchwarmers
Derek doesn't remember too much from his childhood. He tends to remember his family most. Closing his eyes, he gets flashbacks of colors, emotions, and sensations. Intense Smiles. The wind blowing through his hair. The cool nights playing with his siblings on the damp grass. The color red. One of the more prominent things he remembers is his closest childhood friend.
Derek's family moved around quite a bit when he was younger. His parents never wanted to stay in one town too long. The fear of hunters finding them with their young wolves was too real to them. Unfortunately, this meant no real friends for young Derek. The closest thing Derek Hale would get to a friend would be Tim.
Tim was Derek's ill-fashioned, nap sacked covered doll. Derek had made it himself. He drew eyes on with black marker, crafted hair out of leaves of grass, and stuffed the doll with dirt. Tim smelled like earth, and Derek loved Tim. He took him everywhere he went. As long as Tim was by his side, Derek had a friend.
On a day where the sky was covered with overcast clouds, Derek took Tim out puddle jumping(one of Derek's favorite past times). With each jump, Derek's smile got wider and wider. That was, until his mother noticed how dirty he was getting.
"Get in the house Derek!", his mother howled. None of the children EVER disobeyed their wolf parents.
As he rushed inside, his feet left little mud footprints along the hardwood floor. He was soaked, and covered from the waist down in fresh mud. Standing in the kitchen, his hand clung to Tim to keep him brave.
"Where did you get this!?", his mother barked as she clawed Tim from Derek's grasp.
"I MADE HIM HE'S MY FRIEND!", Derek yelped as if a piece of him had just been stolen. His eyes began to feel heavy and enlarged. Tears began to stream down his muddy face.
"A human doll Derek? Humans are bad for werewolves! You need to stay away from them.", his mother answered as soon as Derek's dad entered the kitchen. "Humans and werewolves don't belong together", She added.
Struggling to grasp the concept, a young Derek Hale stood staring big-eyed back at his parents.
"Why not?" is all the little wolf could retort.
Derek's mother sighed and stared at his father for guidance.
"We'll have this talk when you are older, Derek". His father's words are always the last to be heard in a discussion. "Let's get you cleaned up".
Derek's parents were unable to finish this talk with their son. Years later, the Hale fire destroyed the only sense of companionship Derek had ever felt. His family was gone. He was alone. Again.
The lunchroom of Beacon Hills High was teaming with students. One awkward, lanky, and somewhat boyish looking teen was flailing his arms in the air trying to sift his way to a lunch table amongst all the people.
"Scott, I know you may not be the Einstein of this generation, but must you always pick the table farthest from the entrance?", Stiles exhaled.
"It just isn't a normal day if I don't hear you complain at least a little bit" Scott smirked. "Plus, I need to discuss a possible threat to the pack with you. Don't need all the cheerleaders hearing there might be some vampires watching them from the stands."
Stiles stared back open-mouthed. Werewolves, hunters, and now vampires apparently. Boy, Stephanie Meyers would be one happy camper wouldn't she? "You never know, maybe they've grown tired of constantly staring at themselves in the mirror. Might feel good not having a reflection for once." Stiles felt pretty proud of that one.
"Regardless", Scott whispered, "I spoke with Derek earlier. He says that he caught the scent of vampires along the outskirts of his territory. They were up towards the mountains, but he was pretty adamant that they were not something to be taken lightly. He told me to ask you to do that research thing you've always loved."
"Oh jinkies, Fred! I love constantly being the bookworm. Where arRRrreeee my glasses?" , Stiles was not in the mood to research today. "Come on Scott. Can't I just, I don't know, do a stake-out or something? Anything would work really. I just hate constantly being the obvious reason why you guys make werewolf-ing look so flawless without witnessing the action myself".
"Stiles...", Scott flashed him a worrisome look. After a long pause, Scott nodded, and whipped out his cell phone. "Derek?"..."Care for a change of plans?"..."Stiles wants to bug the shit out of you on a stake-out"
"DUDE! not cool!" Stiles interjects, but Scott just smirks. He knows he could say anything about Stiles right now, and get away with it. He knows how badly Stiles wants to be Batman.
"okay"..."okay"..."what time?"..."I'll let him know." *click*
Scott was silent for a few minutes. Stiles just stared at him waiting for a response.
"WHAT DID HE SAY!?" Stiles couldn't take the silence anymore.
Scott busted out laughing. "Dude, chill! You're going on a little camping trip with Mr. Alpha himself. He said bring a sleeping bag and some wooden stakes".
"So, this is literally a STAKE out...", Stiles snorted.
"You really need to get some new material," Scott palmed his forehead.
School was out, and Stiles was eager to get home. After having his jeep blow through countless stop signs, he finally arrived at the Stalinski home. He knows he has the house to himself because his dad's cop car is not in the driveway. After bounding his way up the stairs, he drops his backpack next to his computer desk and flying-squirrels onto his bed.
It was 4pm now, and Derek said to meet him at his place at 7pm. Now was the perfect time to try and get some rest for the stake-out. As Stiles lay sprawled out across his blue twin bed, the anticipation almost seeping out of his ears, he could not keep his mind from wandering.
"I guess I'll pick up the stakes on the way to Derek's house" Stiles thought to himself. "Hmm...I wonder what else I should bring". Stiles sat up and walked over to his closet. Sliding open the door, he began to search for his sleeping bag. After rummaging through a pile of dirty clothes, his lacrosse pads, and random books people had gotten him for Christmas that he would never read, he found his tattered crimson sleeping bag. Not only was it a bit worn, but it was also meant for little kids.
When Stiles was younger, his parents would go out at least once a month to their designated camping spot by Celestia Lake. Stiles loved fishing and running around in the woods. He always seemed to catch the biggest fish, and would go out of his way to make sure his father remembered that. He knew almost every hiking trail by heart, and could still picture his mother's hair rippling in the cold fresh breeze. Unfortunately, Stiles and his father avoid their visits Celestia Lake since the passing of his mother. All the while, his childhood sleeping bag has been fermenting in his closet.
Stiles leaned in to sniff the bag, and was immediately displeased. He threw his tongue out and a "gyuck" sound fell out.
"Welp, time to wash you for your big debut", Stiles said as he crumpled up the bag and threw it into the washer. "Okay, now for the much needed relaxation that Stiles deserves". Stiles knew he could try all he wanted, but his body was not about to let him get sleep of any kind.
Laying on his bed, Stiles held his right hand up towards the light of his ceiling fan. He loved moving his fingers across the light, and watching the rays peak through. One by one, he retracted a finger. He started at his pinky and moved inwards until only his middle and pointer finger were left forming an odd peace sign or deformed bunny ears. Closing his eyes, he breathed in a deep breath and held it there. In the background, he could hear the rolling of the washing machine which relaxed him a lot more than he thought it could. Opening his eyes, Stiles couldn't help but sigh.
As he stared at his remaining fingers left in the air, he couldn't help but wish that he had someone that was always with him like his dilapidated pair of bunny ears always did. Sure they looked different together. One was slightly longer than the other, but Stiles doesn't think either would mind. Together they made sense.
"Ugh. It's no use Stalinski" Stiles sighed. "You'll never be someone's Batman. You're a benchwarmer, and the sooner you admit that, the better...Aw. Hey man! At least you have your awesome sense of humor! Thanks Stiles" Stiles beamed a smile while monologue-ing with himself.
He catches himself relaxing from the churning of his sleeping bag in the washer again.
"Blahhhh" Stiles exhales. He begins to think of how badly he wants a relationship. He isn't too picky on physical appearances or technicalities, but personality and heart. Which, unfortunately, are things that are continuously getting harder and harder to find. He knows his right hand isn't going to get him much farther, and maybe it's about time to find an actual person to take its place. After all, his hand is getting rather tired.
The lovebirds formerly known as Scott and Allison are waning on Stiles' last nerve. He doesn't know how much more sappiness he can take before he just starts yelling "get a room!" 24/7. However, if Stiles is 100% honest with himself, he wants nothing more than to find his own Allison or Scott.
"WHOAAA! Hold up there Stalinski" Stiles said to himself. "You are getting into major feels territory, and we both know what happens after that. We will not be grabbing dad's tub of Cookies N' Cream and crying every time someone dies in Game of Thrones tonight".
Stiles did not even realize how long his dazed and depressing coma had gone on for. It was almost 6:30, and he did not want to test Derek's tardy policy this early into his werewolf internship. He also didn't notice his dad coming home and putting his sleeping bag into the dryer. He pulled out the still damp bag, grabbed his backpack, explained to his dad that he was having a camping themed night at Scott's house, and rushed out the door.
With blood rushing through his entire body like volts of electricity, Stiles was ready to start the night he had been waiting for.
Stiles had felt rather uncomfortable buying thirty stakes from Home Depot, but he was too stoked to care. After disregarding the odd looks from the cashier, he threw the stakes in the back of his jeep and cruzed over to Derek's house. That is, if you consider an abandon subway station turned hidden nursing home for new werewolves a home. Stiles would prefer to call it "Derek's Lair", but he didn't think Derek would find it as funny as he did. Derek had his own room there, but nobody was ever allowed in. All the beta wolves were free to roam the rest of the enclosure which featured a few beaten up couches, some floor mats, and held a subway car in its center. Stiles couldn't help himself from thinking that this place was one door away from being like most of his creations in the SIMS games. He imagined the door deleting itself, and it would only be a matter of time until they all pissed and shit themselves into oblivion. Derek caught Stiles mid laugh.
"You're driving," Derek stated.
"Ah! Giving Ol' Blue the reigns because she can off-road like a champ, eh?" Stiles beamed.
"No", Derek said calmly. "I just don't have money for gas".
"Or that'll work too", said Stiles with a smirk. "Just lead the way oh dark and brooding adventurer".
After two lefts, a right, driving straight for about three miles, and passing some questionable diners, they were on the highway that would take them to the outskirts of Beacon Hills. Stiles was getting antsy. He didn't have a chance to think between school and all the excitement, but tonight was his first night alone with Derek that he mutually agreed to. Stiles realized he didn't know Derek nearly as much as he ought to. Going on a stake-out with life-threatening outcomes might call for a deeper understanding of this Alpha werewolf he has sitting next to him.
Stiles decides to fiddle with the radio. "What kind of music do you like? I am partial to almost anything. Heavy Metal to Kpop. I don't judge", Stiles smiles awaiting Derek's reply.
"I don't listen to much music", Derek said hushed as he stared out the window. He looks like he is deep in thought. However, it seems like something deeper than planning vampire strategies.
"Oh...Right. I guess Alphas don't have time for music in between managing their new pups", Stiles was trying to start up any conversation at this point.
After a long silence, Derek surprisingly spoke. "I like Imogen Heap".
"Holy crap man. Out of all the bands you could've said, Imogen Heap wouldn't even be in my list of top ten guesses for you. You look more like the Slipknot or dark trance type", Stiles mused.
"Her music calms me", Derek hissed and shot a wide-eyed glare towards Stiles. After swallowing and regaining his composure, Derek Continued. "Besides, I told you I don't listen to music that much".
"OH. No, dude. I think she's great. I just didn't think that you would be into her. She's one of my favorites", Stiles commented. He was happy they found some common ground on something. THE Derek Hale, Mr. Alpha himself, likes calming music. Stiles found this rather endearing.
"Alright", breathed Derek. "We're here. We'll scout for a camping spot, set up the tent, and you'll help me with the stakes". Stiles still doesn't know what the stakes are really for. He assumed they were for if any of the blood suckers got too close. Stiles figured he would just wait until Derek told him instead of ask.
After Hiking for about twenty minutes, they walked into a clearing that was right next to a river bank. Trees providing great cover surrounded the camping spot, and the river provided a nice babble to drown out a lot of their noise.
"Here's good. Come help me sent up the tent", Derek requested.
The tent wasn't anything special. Stiles wondered if it could even fit all of Derek in it. He imagined Derek's feet poking out of the tent's opening.
"Jeeze, man. Close quarters, eh?", Stiles mused. "If you wanted some one-on-one with a Stalinski, you could've just asked."
Derek glared at stiles with red cheeks. After turning away, Derek began to unpack his sleeping bag.
"Oh, so you spent all the funds on a nice sleeping bag instead", Stiles commented as he examined the fluff and warm insulation of Derek's far superior sleeping bag. He was a little embarrassed to lay down his old red one.
"We'll see who's the hot shot when the sun sets and the temperature drops." Derek smirked and continued. "Doubt vampires are used to frozen food".
Stiles gulped. "Eh, I bet it would be a delicacy". As he laid his sleeping bag next to Derek's, he noticed how ragged his looked in comparison to Derek's.
"Alright" Derek began. "Take this and start rolling the stakes around in it". Stiles stared at the bag of garlic, baffled. He was about to question Derek's sanity, but decided to just do as the wolf says. When going on a stake out, trust is something you should probably pack with the sack lunch.
"Okay, now the book said to drive the stakes into the ground in a circle to create the protective barrier" Derek began. "We're going to need a safe place in case things get sour. I decided it would be best to place it around the tent".
"Whoa look at you. Mr. Librarian Wolf over here. I didn't think you were the research type" Stiles jested. Derek shot Stiles one of those "well, fuck you too" glares he gives.
"I do what I have to in order to be prepared", Derek hissed. "Now, can we continue"?
While it wasn't a totally perfect circle, they had managed to arrange the stakes around the tent. After a few seconds of waiting around, The stakes started to turn a dim green. Stiles didn't think it would actually work, but he was proven wrong. Stiles watched with his jaw open as a light green barrier slowly formed a bubble around their tent. Every so often, it would sparkle in spots. It almost looked like green fireflies were dancing around and encircling the tent.
"Whoa. Green lantern ain't got nothing on you, Derek", breathed Stiles as he stared at the emerald enclosure. Derek gave a very slight and almost unnoticeable smile. He isn't used to being complimented on anything other than his looks. Stiles slowly walked through the barrier. As he passed through, he felt a wave of weight trying to keep him from getting through. Without too much effort, he managed to slip through.
"Let's look around to see if we can find anything. If any vampires do show up, I'll run you back here. It is the first time Scott is trusting me with you, and I don't want to get you killed on the first night" said the Alpha.
Stiles didn't know what to think of that. Scott trusting Derek with him? He always thought it was the other way around. Instead of Stiles proving himself worthy to work with Derek, was it really Derek who was being tested? However, Stiles thought this was something to think about at another time. It's stake out time. Not contemplate why the hell Scott says what he says time.
The sun had just withdrawn its last ray of light from the sky when the duo set out to scout. Derek always walked a few paces in front of Stiles. Always alert, and always with those red eyes. Stiles figured he was somewhere in between fully wolfed and regular Derek. In this state, Derek was able to pick out scents better and see movement in the dark. After walking a few more paces, Derek froze.
"Hey man, why di...", Stiles couldn't even finish before Derek interrupted.
"Quiet", Derek growled. "I smell blood. It's not very fresh, but probably spilled within the past few hours". Derek waved his hand military style giving Stiles the OK to follow. Derek moved like a jaguar on the prowl. His eyes were fixed and blazing crimson red. They shot through the dark almost sending red beams through the night. Stiles should've been afraid, but there was something about Derek's eyes. Stiles knew that as long as Derek was with him, he was safe.
After a few more paces and weaving through miscellaneous plants, they came across the creator of the scent. A doe laid in a clearing. All color was drained from the lifeless animal, and an almost surgical looking incision was made across the deer's neck. Derek immediately began searching the dead animal for any signs of a vampire related death. Stiles, on the other hand, searched their surroundings looking to see if he could get a sense of what all went down. Derek was the first to speak.
"There is no blood left. They sucked it dry. I smelled the very little they left within the carcass", Derek whispered.
"It looks like there was five of them," Stiles began. "I counted the foot prints. There didn't seem to be a struggle of any kind. My guess is that they broke its neck before it even knew what was happening. At least they're humane I suppose".
"As humane as killing something can be", Derek scoffed. "I didn't smell that many before. I think five might just be the right amount. Four and the coven leader".
The two left the carcass in search of more Intel on the coven. After a few hours of Derek leering through the forest and Stiles clumsily tripping over what seemed like every rock in the woods, Derek decided it was time to catch dinner. Not only because he was starving, but Stile's stomach growl could probably be heard from miles away. They backtracked through the darkness to their magically fortified tent.
"Stiles, you're in charge of the campfire", Derek stated. "I'll catch us some dinner". Stiles didn't even want to know what Derek was about to do. He decided to preoccupy his mind with gathering firewood and tinder. He had a nice bundle of wood wrapped in his arms when he glanced out onto the moonlight river. He watched as Derek sat on a rock a little ways out in the wake. In a split second, Derek clawed two good sized trout out in one fell swoop. Derek then dived back into the river and swam back to the bank with the fish in hand. Stiles started getting an oddly familiar feeling. His stomach was churning with angry butterflies (a feeling he has only gotten around Lydia). Catching himself staring, Stiles blushed and shook himself back into picking up the firewood. He didn't quite understand why he was blushing.
With the fire finally blazing, Derek began to shake off the water and get warm again. Stiles Had skewered the two trout after Derek gutted them. He carefully made the pierced fish dance around the flames. After a few minutes, the fish turned a nice warm brown color. Derek was nearly salivating from the aroma. The pair inhaled the fish within minutes.
"Although we didn't get as much information as I had hoped", Derek began, "I am happy with tonight". Stiles didn't know if he was seeing things or not, but he could've sworn he saw Derek smile. Not even a half smile, but a full on grin. He doesn't think he has seen Derek this content ever.
"Yeah man. I didn't think rolling around in the woods with a werewolf hunting vampires could lead to such an enjoyable evening", said Stiles smiling back at Derek.
"We should probably call it a night. You're probably tired", said Derek with a calming sigh. "I'll put out the fire. Go get some sleep". Stiles didn't argue that. He was exhausted, and it was already getting pretty cold. He walked through their magical barrier, took off his shoes, changed into his fleece Pok'emon pajamas, and zipped up his sleeping bag. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. That is, until Derek woke him up when he zipped opened the tent door.
"Oh, sorry", said Derek quietly. "I was thinking, and lost track of time". Derek crept into the tent on his knees as quietly as he could after zipping the tent back up. As he stripped off his black leather jacket, Stiles couldn't quite keep himself from staring. He continued to take off his somewhat damp shirt. It clung to his chest a bit as he tried to remove it. Derek's physique was something Stiles couldn't keep himself from oogling.
"You need something?", asked Derek. Quickly regaining his composure, Stiles searched for the appropriate response.
"Uh..hh.. No I am good. Everything's ok on my end", Stiles muttered stumbling over every word. Derek wrapped himself into his sleeping bag wearing only his jeans. Stiles could feel his body heat as soon as he laid down. He could probably sleep naked and not get cold. Stiles didn't want to even begin to delve deeper into that thought. Not with Derek right next to him at least.
The two slowly began to tire as the emerald fireflies waltzed around their tent lulling them to sleep along with the orchestra of the forest.
Derek was awoken from his sleep by the chattering of Stiles' teeth. The wind had picked up to subtle gales humming light howls. The temperature had plummeted to the point of wearing multiple layers of clothing.
Stiles didn't know if he could feel his nose anymore. His feet were up for grabs as well. No matter how much he curled his sleeping bag around him, he couldn't cut the cold out. He began to think to himself. "Pull it together Stalinski. You just have to make it through tonight without any hang ups. You can do this. Bare the cold just for tonight. You don't always need to be saved".
A few minutes went by, and they felt like hours to Stiles. He was thinking he was going to go sleep in his jeep when he felt something on his waist. Derek had his arm over Stiles and was unzipping Stiles' sleeping bag. His whole body shivered with the realization.
"Derek what are you doi...", Stiles was cut off from what he was going to say. Derek had unzipped Stiles' sleeping bag and was pulling him into his chest. Derek's sleeping bag was already unzipped so Stiles was immediately greeted by a wall of amazing heat. He was tucked into Derek so that Derek's chin was resting on the top of Stiles' head. It took Stiles a while to realize what was going on. He could barely think while he was thawing his feet and face against Derek's bare skin.
Stiles was intense cuddling with Derek Hale. Derek wasn't just barely holding him either. He was holding onto Stiles like he was going to lose him if he didn't. After Stiles stopped shivering, Derek loosened his grip a little.
After regaining some feeling in his extremities, Stiles was able to feel his hands against Derek. Bravely, he ran his fingers along Derek's chest. Derek let out a low hum of approval. Each ridge of muscle Stiles' finger caressed would make his pants that much tighter. Random shivers still pulsed through Stiles' body, but Derek would immediately tighten his grip around him. Stiles decided to rest his and on Derek's oblique. Derek nuzzled his chin against stiles hair. He was like a heater, and Stiles couldn't get enough of it.
He can't explain why, but at that moment, Stiles decides to pull away. He was met with Derek's face staring down at him giving him a thoughtful yet unreadable look. Derek's eyes looked as if they were the fire that fueled his warmth. "Thanks Derek", Stiles said as he stared up at Derek's eyes.
"Anytime", said Derek as he smirked and lazily ruffled Stiles' hair.
Derek threw a leg over Stiles, and the two fell sound asleep curled up with each other.
Stiles awoke the next morning to a tent with no Derek in sight. He heard him rumbling outside picking things up. Stiles took it upon himself to wrap up their sleeping bags. Derek and Stiles packed the tent, and loaded the jeep without much conversation between the two. Derek seemed rather pensive, and Stiles didn't know what to make of that.
Stiles just stared at the road while Derek glared out the passenger window. Stiles didn't even realize how far he had driven until he was at Derek's place already.
"Well, thanks for the investigation", said Stiles. "It went better than I expected. Nobody died". Stiles smiled.
"Agreed", answered Derek with a forced smile. "I'll be sure to ask Scott to recruit you for our next life-threatening adventure".
Derek got out of the jeep, and the two parted. Stiles couldn't help but contemplate about the events of the previous night the whole drive home. He doesn't think he quite understands this feeling he has right now. Trying to think of words to describe it was like trying to define a color. No matter how many words you use to try and describe it, you would never know what it really was unless you've experienced it for yourself. Whatever these feelings were that he was having, Stiles realized that Derek Hale was no longer a Big bad wolf. He was a friend at the very least.
