Derek&Stiles Fest: The Jinx
A/N – Well, trolls led me to take my last story down, but I did want to contribute something for the fest. This is an AU non-canon, 'what if' story that I thought would be a fun way to do the Derek Stiles ship. Read it before you roll your eyes. If you don't like it, don't read it, if you want to insult me, use a PM. BTW, I need 10 (nice) reviews before each chapter goes up! WHA HA HA! j/k, kind of.
Stiles looked at Lydia's fallen form, blood marring her dress, and the figure of Peter Hale standing over her. The rush of emotion through his ADHD mind carried him on a roller coaster that made it nearly impossible to think. As always, during the few times when he reached this stage of frenetic feeling, his palms began to itch, and he had to resist the urge to rub his hands together.
No. Jesus, who knows what would happen this time.
It was hard to think what with all of the bright floodlights around, and the menacing voice of the Alpha filling the small space between them.
"Do…you wish…to save her?" he asked again.
"Do I wish to save her? Are you mental? I just ask her out and then she tells me she still wants Jackson, and I chase her out here and I I'm thinking I either have to forget about her or demand she make a choice or just yell and scream until I black out and you are asking me if I WANT TO SAVE HER?" About halfway through this speech, Stiles hands came together, and he felt the familiar static shock feeling as he rubbed his palms.
Kids used to ask him jokingly if it was because he was growing hair on them, a little too much fun time spent with the old Soap on a Rope. If only they knew.
The Alpha was just beginning to lose the startled confusion look that most people had when they listened to Stiles and was beginning to dial it back to 'menacing' when a sudden sharp metallic crack split the night, and one of the huge floodlight poles began to swing forward in a lethal trajectory that would bring the sizzling 800 degree lightbulb array right down on top of Peter Hale.
Stiles, half expecting something like this, quickly pulled Lydia backwards, while Peter looked up, his mouth an O of horror, wolflike reflexes forgotten as he was quickly crushed underneath the heavy fixture, blood and an explosion of shattered lightbulb glass flying in all directions. If you had to go out in style, this certainly fit the bill.
"Lydia, are you all right?" he asked feverishly.
She came to, slowly, and Stiles laughed with relief to see that the blood came from a single scratch, a side effect of Peter knocking her unconscious.
"What the hell happened? Who WAS that guy?" she buried her face in his shoulder, crying.
"Don't worry, I took care of him for you."
A lesser man would certainly take advantage of this vulnerable moment to make one last effort to win the girl of his dreams.
Stiles was not going to be that guy. She wanted Jackson, and even though that was a trainwreck waiting to happen, Stiles had to let her follow her heart.
He took a deep breath, folded all of his feelings for her into a little airtight box in his subconscious, slammed shut the lid and waited for it to suffocate. After maybe ten minutes of rocking her, he felt the feelings die, their ghost waving sadly to him as they floated to off to the Hopeless Love Graveyard.
Perversely, that was when she chose to lift up her face and kiss him full on the lips. He pulled back (from what a minute before would have made him deliriously happy for life), feeling nothing but cold.
"Lets go get you inside." His voice was paternal, and utterly devoid of desire. He might have been talking to a 7 year old girl who had just skinned her knee. Someone else's little girl.
Bleakly thinking about the Alpha, he wondered what Derek Hale was doing right at this moment.
Meanwhile…
Kate stuck a perfectly polished nail in her mouth, wondering how much voltage to give her new pet before she called it a night. This was really just too much fun.
Derek lifted his face up to her, the Beta-phase still evident on his features. What a bizarre species. Sure, you get a lot of power as a Beta, but the boost that the Alphas get was just so off the charts unfair. Once they left to track down and kill Peter Hale, she would have to remember to finish Derek off once and for all lest he inherit the position and all of its gifts. No way could you get away with this with an Alpha, Fort Knox might not even be safe. Sighing, Kate made her selection, turned and flipped the switch, waiting for the too familiar scream of agony that made her feel so warm and tingly inside.
There was no scream.
She looked up just in time for the monster to descend on her.
A once more human (and fully healed) Derek looked down at Kate's unconscious body, and kicked it once, savagely, for good measure. To think, she and Derek had…
He shook himself in disgust, and pondered his new situation. He felt the power enter him like a tidal wave, but held in from the full Alpha-Phase until Kate turned away. The shift, the chains snapping like cotton candy, the defeat of his tormentor…a mere second or two. The Alpha was damn near all-powerful. But the Alpha was dead. He would find out how later. He, Derek Hale, was the new pack leader of a dead pack…save for Scott of course. Derek snorted. Easiest way to win the coming battle with the Argents was to force Scott to join their side. Stiles too, for good measure. Thinking about Stiles gave him pause, and he found himself feeling the sudden urgent need to track the boy down, make sure he was safe.
"What the hell?" he said aloud.
Stiles filled his mind, Derek could almost sense his direction and distance.
This could only mean one thing. Stiles had killed the Alpha. This meant no cure for Scott, ever, and that Stiles would hold endless fascination for the wolf in Derek since it now viewed him as a superior being. He had heard of this happening rarely, and always in antiquity. Humans these days were like sheep, and none had killed an Alpha for centuries. The afflicted werewolf suffered a lifelong connection to the human who had facilitated his ascendance by destroying the previous leader.
"STILES?" Oh, dear Moon above, of all the people to have in your head, and with all the people he seemed to have in HIS head…
Well, first things first.
In half an hour, the Argents entire security team were incapacitated, and Derek (now in need of a shower and change of clothes) was driving to the school, wiping himself furiously with wet wipes, and buttoning his coat over his shredded and bloody shirt.
Scott, Stiles and Jackson were huddled together, Allison and Lydia with the Argent parents about thirty feet away, both looking terrified. And about a million cops. Mr. Argent gave Derek a worried look, probably realizing that Kate might be hurt..or dead. Wanting him to wonder, Derek gave him an evil wolfish grin and waved. Then he walked over to the boys.
"What the hell happened?" he asked.
Scott said "Well, Mr. Argent outed me to his daughter right when she was about to…"
Stiles looked witheringly at him.
"Peter Hale is dead. I – a spotlight fell on him. Crushed him." Stiles described the events, remarkably focused and to the point.
"That can't be true. Stiles…did you do it?"
Stiles looked guilty, terrified and embarrassed all at the same time.
"NO! It was…an accident! I didn't do anything!" he shouted.
Lie, and lie.
"Stiles, there is something you aren't telling me." And vice versa. The wolf in Derek was inwardly thrilled at being near Stiles. Wanted to be near . Wanted to…GEEZ!
Derek shook his head to clear it, then gave Stiles his patented glare.
Looking at the other two boys, Stiles grabbed Derek and yanked him away from the others.
"And no listening in, Scott!" called Stiles, forgetting the crowd. Derek broke from his grip, nearly sending him flying, then had to fight an urge to help Stiles straighten his clothing.
"Stiles, let's just say that something in me…is convinced you had a direct hand in killing my uncle. You tell me a light pole fell on him. Did you push it on him? Rig it to fall?" Derek asked desperately. The wolf could not be fooled. There were laws governing their kind that were thousands of years old.
"Derek…I was scared when it went down. Terrified. Out of my wits, off my gourd…and whenever I get like that, well, sometimes things happen. It's like I'm a Jinx or something."
Derek stared at him.
"A Jinx. As in…bad luck. You killed my uncle…with bad luck."
"Not bad luck. SUPER bad luck! Like Final Destination bad luck! Like The Omen bad luck! You know, when I was a kid, and my father tried to take me to the dentist, the car broke down four times! I'm scared of dentists. In 5th grade, one of the school bullies trapped me in a dumpster. I hate closed in spaces! While this kid was sitting on top of the dumpster, a flower pot fell off someone's windowsill and almost put him into a coma! When I get nervous, and rub my hands together…"
"Wait. Bad things happen when you rub your hands together? Can you show me?" This was unreal, and yet Derek had to admit, Stiles was telling the absolute truth. It was real, or he believed it was real.
"No. It only works when they itch. That's when I'm really freaking out. And I can't control what happens, it just happens. I hate it, and wish I didn't have it, and I am going to get someone killed…oh wait, I already did…Derek HOLY SHIT I KILLED SOMEONE!" And Stiles was literally running around in circles, looking around wildly as if his father and a dozen armed officers were about to appear and take him in.
"I'm going to jail, I'm going to hell…"
Derek couldn't take it anymore. He grabbed Stiles and hugged him close and tight, and tried not to cringe as the wolf roared its approval from within. The wolf worshipped Stiles, and if Stiles was upset, then God help the person responsible. How long before Derek's human feelings began to fall in line with the wolf's?
Stiles hugged him back, and Derek caught himself stroking the short brown hair, and muttering "There there now."
Then he screamed and hurled Stiles away from him. Bewildered and traumatized, Stiles could only stare at Derek, the hurt so visibly stamped on his face that Derek had an urge to chomp his own forearm.
"Stiles, I'm sorry, I –"
Stiles was doing it, nervously rubbing his hands together. Derek's wolf senses picked it up, a sudden gathering in the air, an invisible force aroused and pulsating in the space between them. Stiles turned and ran, and Derek tried to follow only to trip (TRIP? I NEVER TRIP!) and fall flat on his face. Rolling over with a mouth full of dirt and snow, he had just time to let out a surprised yelp when an enormous mound of snow from the overhead branches suddenly buried him in its freezing whiteness.
Derek walked back over to the crowd. But for the police, everyone else seemed to have gone. Stiles was nowhere in sight. Derek found his car, and drove home. He would figure out what to do with Stiles and the Argents tomorrow.
The next morning, the wolf decided that Stiles was the more urgent of the two matters, and being an Alpha wolf, its urges were that much more powerful.
Derek went to a local electronics store and bought a "55 inch flat screen television, had it gift wrapped, loaded it into his car, and drove it to Stiles house.
A knock brought Sheriff Stilinski to the door, looking down at a uncomfortable Derek holding the large gift.
"Um, Stiles home?" he asked politely.
"Yeah, he's in the living room. What's that for?" The Sheriff looked suspicious, but that was probably his normal expression.
"Oh, um, you know, he had a bad night, thought this might cheer him up."
"So you bought him a flatscreen? I can't think what else could be that size."
"Do you think he will like it?" was all Derek could think to ask.
The Sheriff ignored the question, and simply shouted "Stiles! Company!" before heading out.
"And Derek?" The Sheriff turned around once more.
"Yes Sir?"
"That will go in the living room. Stiles room will never fit it." He walked off.
Derek carried the box inside and set it before a Stiles who looked nearly catatonic.
"I took so much medication." He said randomly. He looked up at Derek.
"You…are mean."
Derek tore a strip of the paper, and Stiles nearly did a backflip off the couch.
"Wow! Is that a 55" 1080p 150HZ LCD flatscreen with 4 HDMI ports and a built in Blu-Ray player?" he asked. Derek had no idea what any of that meant, had just said "Give me a top of the line tv" to the sales guy.
Soon, the tv was set up and they were watching shows with the ability to count the pores of the skin of each actor. Derek was amazed at how quickly Stiles had made sense of all the wires and cables…clearly the boy was an entertainment system wunderkind.
They sat very close on the couch, Stiles head leaning on Derek's chest, with one of the werewolf's arms curled around the boy's shoulders.
"Stiles, I wanted to apologize for last night. Something is happening to me, and I don't know how to handle it."
Stiles looked at him.
"What's happening? Oh my God! You're an Alpha now! Does this mean you want to eat me after watching me from the woods and making your eyes glow red and chasing me through the school and sending weird text messages from other people's phones and sitting in a hospital pretending you are sick-"
"Stiles!" The boy shut up, looking sheepish.
"Yes, I'm an Alpha. But because of how things went down last night, well…I don't know how to say this. I have a connection to you now. A bond. I can feel you, feel your emotions. And last night, I felt your power. I have never felt anything like it. Whatever it is, its as real as me, and maybe just as dangerous. Does your dad know about it?"
Stiles considered.
"I had an uncle they called 'Bad luck Chuck', and my Dad always said I took after him…but he doesn't really know about it. So we have a bond? Can I tell Scott we have bondage? Ooh, that didn't sound right…"
Derek looked down at the boy, just 2 years his junior, and yet so much more innocent and naïve. The nonsensical babble for the first time was having a soothing rather than annoying affect on him. It suddenly occurred to him that Stiles was already as close to him as if they had known each other for years, Derek displaying an easy intimacy in terms of touch and personal space they he had rarely allowed even his female partners. And Stiles did not seem to mind, was falling right in step along with him, almost as if the boy felt the bond too. What if they grew even closer the more time passed? Would Stiles want that? Did Derek? What if they fell in love? What if they HAD SEX?
Derek slapped himself. This was ridiculous. Now he was starting to think like Stiles, endless questions and possibilities running through his mind without rest.
"Derek? You ok? We can change the channel." Stiles face turned toward Derek, no more than an inch apart, and they breathed in each others breath, they looked into each other's eyes, and neither missed the dilation of pupil that occurs when you look at someone with desire in your heart.
"Oh, Derek. Your eyes…they…they're beautiful."
Derek could only mirror the thought when looking into the deep brown pools of this amazing young man sitting next to him. The tension grew between them like a current, building in the air like some inexorable force. Stiles pulled away; Derek thought for a horrible second Stiles was offended in some way, but he realized it was only so Stiles could take in all of him, looking at him in an entirely new way. For Stiles, having so recently killed his feelings for Lydia, to have this unexpected situation occur was beyond belief. The desire smell was coming off them in waves, Derek wondered if even Stiles could sense it. And that energy, just built and built…
Stiles absently rubbed one palm against the other.
The power in the house went out.
The two looked at each other in sudden dawning horror of what this meant. If Stiles caused accidents when he was emotional, and he got emotional when he was with Derek…the two of them could be in more danger than they had ever faced before. That's life for you…
Stiles straddled Derek, and brought his face in close for another examination, this time of lips and teeth rather than eyes. They both licked them as one, and then the first kiss, as deep and passionate as the most torrid romance novel could hope to capture in cheap prose. With no thought, they left off the actual kissing and just sealed their mouths together, sharing the same breath back and forth until Stiles began to get dizzy. They broke apart, Stiles hyperventilating and grinning like a kid in a candy store.
"I've always wanted to try that. Derek…do you find me attractive?" He had asked this question annoyingly a thousand times before, but his voice was different now, and his eyes glimmered with the sheen of tears. A snide answer now could crush him.
"Hopelessly attractive. Completely attractive. Devastatingly attractive." He said, now beginning to breathe rapidly himself.
"I never thought I'd find a fairy tale prince like girls dream about. Except of course, that this fairy tale is 'Little Red Riding Hood. When do I start making comments about the size of your body parts?"
"Sooner than you might think, brat." Said Derek grabbing him back onto the couch.
A/N – Beg for the next chapter.
