The afternoon sun was unforgiving, shining brilliantly in a clear blue sky. Rays reflected off every surface, easily able to find a direct path into Stiles's eyes without fault. He was thankful for his sunglasses, black Ray ban Wayfarer's that he had borrowed from Scott months ago.
Stiles pulled into a parking space, putting the jeep in park and killing the engine. He grabbed his keys and slid out of his seat, heading towards the entrance of his local department store. He was in need of some essentials for his weekend excursion. He had most of the basic things at home: a lantern, a few flash lights, a sleeping bag, a radio and an outdated first-aid kit. He went through his list of things he needed as he reached the entrance. The cold air conditioned breeze of the department store was a welcoming greeting as he entered, removing his sunglasses and stashing them in his shirt pocket. He grabbed a cart and started on his shopping journey.
Stiles aimlessly paced the isles, pushing a cart that only contained marsh mellows, a case of 24 water bottles and a family sized bag of salt and vinegar chips. His thoughts kept tracking back to the case files he had absorbed for hours the previous night. No one had been grievously hurt yet, to the knowledge of the police department, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen. Or perhaps that one of the two missing persons weren't rotting away somewhere at this very moment. Stiles was jarred back into reality as he felt the cart shake beneath him and his name being called.
"Are you sleepwalking dude?" Scott teased, leaning over the end of the cart grinning, hands braced on the metal rungs. Stiles sighed and shook his head, shooting an annoyed it's too early for this shit look Scott's way. "Did your dad leave dinner to you this weekend or something?" Scott questioned gesturing towards the contents of the cart. "Hey wait," he paused looking at Stiles's chest with his head tilted. "Aren't those mine? I've been looking for those!" He moved around the cart and quickly plucked the sunglasses from his friend's pocket.
"Come on dude, you don't even need them!" Stiles whined, reaching to take them back. Scott quickly unfolded them and slid them up his nose, smirking. "Fine, I don't want them anyway You'll regret your decision when the sun burns out my retina while I'm driving and crash into a tree!" Stiles huffed and began pushing his cart forward again. He remembered he needed batteries for his various devices he planned on bring with him this weekend. He headed towards the electronics section with Scott following close behind.
"So why are you here so early?" Scott said while flipping through albums a few steps away from Stiles.
"I thought I'd go shopping instead of my dad this week. Give him a break, you know?" Stiles answered, concentrating on remembering what type of batteries he needed. Scott starting laughing and Stiles stared him down. "What's so funny?" He asked, throwing a few packs of different battery types in his cart.
"For one, you're in electronics. Also I don't think your dad even likes salt and vinegar chips." Scott said pointedly, strolling back over to Stiles.
"Do you have a thing for my dad now you creep? Why do you keep track of his favorite chip flavors? Maybe you should shop for him sometime." Stiles snapped His attention was directed behind Scott, where he suddenly realized Isaac was standing a few feet from him, shuffling through the exact albums Scott just had. He wondered if he had come here alone, or if Derek was here, or perhaps if he even had money to buy anything. Surely he had saved his money back when he was a grave digger. Stiles shivered, the kid still gave him the creeps. Whether he was a mutual friend, classmate, or teammate. He still radiated weird. Good looking, Stiles admitted to himself, but weird. Not the reasonable kind of weird either. Not the kind where you put your milk in the bowl before the cereal kind of weird. Or the kind where you prefer mustard with your fries instead of ketchup. Isaac was the I'll kidnap your first born son and feed him to my deranged kittens kind of weird. Or the kind where he would have a shrine in his closet and would chant odd things at it in tongues, in the dark, wearing a cloak while performing a blood sacrifice. Stiles knew his past, he knew what his father had done to him. He felt sorry for the kid, but that didn't change the bad vibes he got from him. Scott turned his head slightly, "hey Isaac, did you find what you were looking for?" He questioned, shifting his body sideways to look back at him.
Isaac sighed and scratched his head, walking towards Scott and Stiles. "Nah, I don't think they carry it here." Stiles drew his eyebrows together, squinting his eyes slightly. Scott and Isaac came here together. He hasn't seen Scott in weeks, and he's here with Isaac, casually browsing for some mystery product? Unacceptable, whether they were pack or not. "You alright there Stiles?" Isaac asked, drawing Stiles's attention back.
"Peachy," he replied with a tight smile. "But if you guys don't mind, I have some shopping to do."
"Wait," Scott said, placing a hand on the cart so Stiles couldn't move it. Stiles tried to pull it out of his grip anyway and failed. Damn Scott's super-wolf strength. "You never told me what you're here for."
"I'm heading North," he paused trying to decide how much information to give up. "Well, North-ish. Camping, in the woods, at night, with the scary werewolves. Just the norm, you know?" Isaac awkwardly shuffled his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. Scott shot Stiles a confused look.
"Alone?" Scott asked with an expression of disbelief. "Do you know how dangerous that is? We don't know what's out there, how far are you going?"
"Far enough," Stiles replied stepping backwards and shifting the cart around until Scott released it. He turned around and swiftly headed back towards the food isles.
Stiles climbed out of the Jeep, finally back at home. He quickly scurried to his door, wanting to make a quick meal, get his things together, shower and finally leave for the weekend. He pulled his keys out of his pocket, fumbling them around to find the correct one. In all reality he shouldn't even have this many keys. He somehow had accumulated about five extra keys for which he could no longer remember their use. As he slid the key into the lock, he heard the loud purr of an approaching vehicle's engine. He turned his head around just in time to see a sleek, midnight black Camaro pull up behind his Jeep. The windows were rolled up, tinted dark so he couldn't see inside. He was fairly certain that was illegal. He would definitely have to report this sucker's license plate number. The car was all angles and muscle, Stiles didn't like it at all. Well, at least he wouldn't admit to himself that he did. His Jeep was his baby, he couldn't just think about another mode of transportation like that. That was wrong. Someone got out of the drivers side and closed the door, striding around the car towards Stiles. Stiles squinted and shielded his eyes from the sun that completely haloed the male figure approaching him. When the man was close enough for Stiles to see, he felt like punching himself in the face. The man wore the same style sunglasses he had been earlier- must be a werewolf thing. Yes, the man emerging from the brilliant glow of the late afternoon sunlight was no other than Derek alpha-sour-wolf Hale. Stiles swallowed nervously and realized his body was still facing the door and his hand was still occupied by the key which was in the lock. He quickly swung his head back towards the door, unlocking it and shoving the keys in his pocket. He turned around just as Derek had reached him. Damn he was gorgeous. He was like Lydia status gorgeous, if not more attractive. In a totally different, manly way. With the dark scruff around his angular jaw line and his stupidly perfect hair. Derek's car actually suited him perfectly. Mysterious, dressed in black, with his tinted shades and his angular face. Not to mention his totally ripped body. He held this guy up in a pool for hours, He saw him soaking wet, clothes clinging to every bulge and dip of his body. Of course Stiles had taken notice, and mental photographs for later use. For scientific reasons only, obviously.
Derek cleared his throat, snapping Stiles out of his own world. He suddenly realized he was staring at Derek, with a dumbfounded look on his face. He quickly recovered his facial expression, quirking an eyebrow at Derek.
"Yes?" Stiles asked, looking past Derek staring at nothing in particular.
"Scott and Isaac mentioned you were going camping or something out North. I came to tell you you're not going." Derek stated matter-of-factually. Stiles opened his mouth to argue, but was immediately hushed by Derek. "No arguing, you're not going. You are Scott's friend, Scott is in my pack. That means if you get into trouble, Scott will start something and I will be responsible for him. I know what you're going out there for and it isn't something you can handle."
Stiles wasn't happy. He was already feeling his fingers curl into fists, nails biting into his palms. His mouth set in a tight line, eyes blazing at Derek. "You have no right to tell me what I can and can't do," he said coolly, trying not to let his anger show. "I didn't even tell Scott where I was going. This is me going camping BY MYSELF, because I CAN and I WANT to. If I get into trouble I'll deal with it myself. Contrary to popular belief, I can handle myself!" He threw emphasis into his words with flailing limbs. "Sometimes," he quickly added in almost a whisper.
Derek had his sour-wolf pout on,. He crossed his arms and took off his sunglasses, studying Stiles's face. Stiles suddenly felt antsy and insecure. He didn't like being stared at, scrutinized and judged by focused eyes. He shifted awkwardly, "like what you see? Take a picture, lasts longer." He instantly regretted saying that, How stupid could he be? That was utterly the lamest and most overused sentence that has ever escaped his lips.
Derek rolled his eyes and replaced his sunglasses to rest on the bridge of his nose. "I warned you Stiles, don't go. I'm not trying to insult you either. We don't want you to get hurt. Now promise me you won't go?" Derek tilted his head slightly, waiting for Stiles's reply.
Stiles's anger immediately dissipated when he heard Derek's confession. He had said 'we don't want you to get hurt' instead of 'Scott doesn't want you to get hurt'. Stiles was pretty sure that meant the big sour-wolf had some concern for Stiles's safety. He couldn't fight off the small smile that played at his lips. "I won't go North looking for trouble," Stiles replied. "I promise." Stiles made sure it sounded genuine, because it was. There was a loophole, of course. If you're into technicalities, which Stiles totally was. Who would go looking for trouble anyway? Not Stiles, no way. He was just simply going camping. If trouble happened to be there, he definitely wasn't looking for it.
That seemed to satisfy Derek, he nodded and turned on his heel, headed back to his Camaro. Stiles quickly opened his front door and slid inside, heading off to the kitchen with a new found bounce in his step.
A/N: This took me awhile to write. I blame the trauma I have suffered from Monday's episode. Don't even get me started on the next episode, I totally am NOT looking forward to that. Although it will give me some good ideas... for future chapters... perhaps. (; Reviews would be nice at this point since I'm a noob and have no confidence in my work. I'd just like to know if it's decent, or if there's something wrong with my writing style I should tweak. Only helpful criticism please, suggestions are welcome too.