Chapter Two, The Beast of Hale Manor

Stiles picked out a room that would serve his purpose, although when mid-morning rolled around he could hardly remember having done so. The tour, if that was what Derek had planned, was largely unsuccessful. Worry bubbled up as he wondered just what he had gotten himself into. Was his father really going to be okay? He had been breathing… Stiles was just about to get out of his massive bed, the canopy shading him from the sun's gaze when the door opened. Of course he had picked the room with the most light in it. He looked over, frowning when he saw Derek standing there with a tray in his hands and a scowl on his face. The guy walked over stiffly, almost as though it was painful for him to do so. He stopped awkwardly, just in front of Stiles -and Stiles realized with a shock, that Derek was waiting for his permission. Stiles reluctantly moved the curtain aside and Derek practically shoved the tray into his arms.

There were scrambled eggs and sausages and an orange juice box sitting on it. If Stiles were anyone but himself, he might have refused to eat it on principle alone. God knows Jackson would have; this kind of food probably wouldn't have been worthy enough to the jerk. However, Stiles was considerably less picky and despite how plain it looked, the eggs and sausage smelled wonderful. His stomach gave a loud growl and he reached for his fork, glancing at Derek suspiciously. The guy looked like he was on the verge of smiling.

"It's not poisoned is it?" Stiles asked bluntly.

Derek scowled. "It's not poisoned."

"You sure? Because it's kind of weird for my kidnapper to be concerned with my eating habits. I mean really."

"You don't want it?" Derek asked archly, reaching out to take the tray.

Stiles pulled it closer, "I never said that."

"Then eat, unless you would rather starve?" There was a low growl in the way Derek phrased his question, one eyebrow lifting as he stared Stiles down.

If he hadn't been so hungry, he totally would have argued back. Stiles dove into his breakfast eagerly. As he ate, he processed all the questions he could think of to direct at Derek. And he started as soon as he swallowed and was attempting to stab his straw through the thin barrier in order to get to his orange juice.

"So I'm staying here for a year?"

"That's the deal," Derek responded, almost wary as he leaned back against his nightstand.

"So I'm staying here for three hundred and sixty-five days? No days off?" Derek nodded. "I can't… I can't go home in that time?" he demanded, shoving his straw a little more forcefully than necessary through the barrier and into his orange juice. How was he supposed to survive a whole year without being at home -what would his father do without him?

Derek sighed. "You have to stay here for a full year. You can't leave."

"And why the hell not?" Stiles frowned at his juice box, taking a long drain from it.

"Because that's not how things work. And you agreed already."

"You didn't tell me that I couldn't see my father in that time! Or-or leave!"

"I said you had to stay for a year," Derek growled. "Or was that not clear enough for you?"

Stiles glared at him. "Well whatever the hell you want me for, I won't do a thing to help you. And don't bother feeding me either -I'd rather starve!"

Functioning on too little sleep had never gone well with Stiles. In addition, being short of his Aderall and not knowing how his father was doing were going to kill him. His father could go back to drinking. It wasn't as though magic was real, much as Stiles often wished it was. (Because seriously, Harry Potter was pretty epic and having any kind of magic would be useful -no matter the situation.) Derek inhaled sharply, taking a slow step back.

Yeah, that's right buddy, Stiles thought savagely, walk away.

"I wouldn't expect anyone to be of help," Derek replied sharply. "But I'd suggest that before you condemn yourself and everyone in this house, you try and figure out what's going on. And you can clean the dishes yourself," he added as he walked out of the room.

Stiles stared after him for a good minute before he collected himself enough to get off the bed and go exploring. Which didn't really require a lot of thought. Awkwardly he fit the tray against his side, dirty dishes and empty juice box precariously balanced as he set out to explore. If anything fell and broke, it would be his fault and Derek would probably make him clean it up anyways. With a frown he adjusted his grip and carried on more cautiously. Thankfully it wasn't a manor or a castle, because he was pretty sure that he would have gotten so lost he never would have found his way to the kitchen. As it was, he managed to get lost three times -the first was his stumbling foray into a bathroom, followed by an unoccupied bedroom and another bathroom before he found himself in the main hallway. From there it was a matter of elimination as he walked down the long hallway and into a huge dining room, the kitchen tucked just behind it. He could see someone standing at the counter, watching him as they drank their coffee and Stiles made his way over.

He was a young man, probably around Stiles' age with tousled curls and a sharp jaw structure. He watched him warily, almost distrustfully. "So you're the new guy, huh?" he remarked, gesturing to the sink. "Didn't even know you were here. Usually Peter makes more of a fuss."

Stiles set his dishes into the sink. "What's so special about me?" he laughed, but the noise was caught somewhere in the back of his throat as he watched the man in front of him change.

He got hairier and his eyes changed to a glowing-golden-yellow as he stared at Stiles. The guy gave a sigh. "Hopefully a lot of things."

"W-wha-what the hell was that?"

"Wha- oh. It was the curse."

"The curse?" Stiles repeated flatly. "What curse?"

He smiled grimly. "Wow, no one told you anything. Welcome to the club." He turned away, pouring a fresh cup of coffee and handed it towards Stiles.

He immediately waved it off. "You don't even want to know what I'm like on coffee."

The other man shrugged, setting the cup down on the counter. "I'm Isaac," he added. "Uh, this will probably be easier if you sit down. The others will be up soon."

"You mean -the other missing people, the-the kids. Jesus Isaac, you were… what, ten when you went missing?"

"Twelve, actually," he corrected. "And for the record, I did run away. And Derek found me."

"What the hell could he want with a kid?!" Stiles shouted, alarmed.

Isaac hissed at him and made a shushing motion. "He's not what you think he is. Or who, not exactly. I mean it's…"

"It's a long story," supplied a woman as she stepped into the kitchen with a yawn. She took the abandoned cup of coffee and Stiles was startled to realize that she looked normal. "Isaac's never been a very storyteller," she added, clearly teasing as she took a sip of her coffee.

Isaac rolled his eyes. "I hate being left with the new kids."

"I remember when you were a new kid," she teased gregariously, ruffling his hair as she moved to sit down across from Stiles. "I'm Allison," she added warmly.

"Stiles," he replied sheepishly. "So can you tell me what's going on here, exactly?"

"We're cursed."

"What kind of a curse?"

"One that makes almost all of us look this," Isaac said, gesturing to his face with a clawed hand.

"But from midnight until ten, they can be human. Everyone here except for Derek that is." Allison almost sounded sympathetic, the way she spoke. "It's because there's been a curse here for the last seven years."

If Stiles hadn't witnessed Isaac's transformation he might have doubted the whole curse scenario. Their appearances were strange, inhuman even. "Why don't you change?"

"I wasn't brought here for the same reason as everyone else," she explained, sadness creeping into her voice. "Our car broke down. And we were stranded here, but once you enter you can't leave with your memories intact. My… mother never trusted Derek, and she was the one that had decided to pay the price, for my father and I. Except her plan was to kill him in his sleep and sneak out with us -she, uh, thought he was a pedophile. And Derek killed her. So the curse doesn't effect me, in the same way as it does Isaac. I can't leave though, it's like there's a barrier around the place. While my father can leave since the curse didn't pass to him, he won't in order to make sure that I'm okay." She smiled weakly.

Stiles got up, hugging her quickly. "You didn't have to share all that. I'm sorry for that."

"It's okay," she told him. "It's been a long time, since. And I've had spent a lot of time working through my hate, to accept that my mother was in the wrong. It also serves as a cautionary tale," she added, with a wince. "Don't try and kill Derek or anything drastic, because it'll effect the people closest to you. I know my mother never meant for that to happen but…" She stopped, taking a deep breath and exhaling.

Stiles moved back to his own seat, frowning. So fighting Derek was out of the question -not that he really would have dared, considering that the guy had a foot and a half on him and was made of solid muscle. Fighting wouldn't be in Stiles' favor.

"Okay," Stiles agreed. "So how does Derek's curse transfer to you guys, exactly?"

"We have one year to… well, forgive him," Isaac said awkwardly, coming to join them at the table. "We either find him or he finds us, so long as we're on Hale property, we're affected by the curse from the first step. We have a year to break the curse on him, to forgive him. If we don't succeed…" he shrugged, "you just end up looking like me."

"He picked his uncle first, to try and break the curse," Allison supplied. "Because Peter's family, it would have made sense. My family was an accident and we failed that first night. The year after that was Isaac, because Derek thought that earning a child's forgiveness would be easier."

"I think that one was mostly Peter's idea," Isaac murmured.

"Needless to say, it didn't work. And every year, we get one new visitor. And you're our latest guest." Allison smiled and she seemed to be so genuine about it, that Stiles couldn't help but smile back.

"What does Derek need forgiveness for, exactly?"

Allison and Isaac traded a look, before sighing. Isaac took a long drink from his coffee. "That's the problem, really. No one knows."

"How can you not know?" This curse effected them as much as Derek -how could they not know?

"Derek won't tell anyone," Isaac said quietly. "Whatever it is, is a big deal. And we're okay with not knowing. If we were the one meant to break it, then he would have told us."

"What if he told you and you were the one, but because he didn't, now you're stuck in his hell?" Stiles countered.

"Don't be so hard on him," Allison admonished. "He blames himself for all of us being stuck here."

"Not that it's bad for you," Isaac teased. "You fell in love. And so did Erica and Boyd. Derek's the only one lonelier than me."

Stiles chuckled. "I bet I could give you a run for you money," he joked, waggling his brows at Isaac. It was worth it, as Allison giggled and Isaac looked torn between whether he wanted to strange Stiles or laugh as well. "How many of you guys are there?"

"Well I came here with my father, after Peter had been here. And then it was Isaac. Scott and his mom wound up here, and I think Erica came here next and Boyd was the year after that. And then Lydia. And now you," Allison grinned. "Lydia's the same way as me. Her boyfriend got her into this mess but she managed to help him escape, so now she's stuck here as the errand girl."

Stiles frowned at that. "Lydia, Erica, Boyd… they're really okay?"

"Yup. As healthy as Isaac," Allison giggled at that. "Since coming here Erica hasn't had one seizure. We think she might be cured, actually."

"That's… wow. So where are they?"

"Scott's still sleeping, he doesn't usually start moving until now. Melissa's -his mom -she's probably in the kitchen, helping Dad. And Erica and Boyd are up to their usual fun, I imagine. Peter should be up soon, I would guess but he might have gone to research with Lydia."

"Research?" That was something Stiles could do. He was good at that. He gave Allison his best puppy eyes. "Please don't tell me I have to be one of his pets or something to get that privilege. I don't like Derek that much."

Isaac stifled a laugh.

"It's Peter," Allison supplied at Stiles' questioning look. "Peter looks after the library. You want to research, you need Peter's permission and you have to learn to take notes his way. Lydia could teach you. Derek doesn't have anything to do with the library, I think it's hard on him."

"He gave up?" That was surprising. He wouldn't have pegged the surly man to be a quitter.

"Seven years is a long time," Isaac replied defensively. "It hasn't been easy on any of us, Derek especially. He used to be right in there with Peter, they spent most of their time studying when Derek could have spent it getting to know Scott -but instead, he spent more time locked up and reading. Scott could have forgiven him, of any of us, Scott had the best chance." He sighed bitterly. "And now we'll never know. So no, Derek doesn't involve himself with the library. Not anymore."

Wrote this pretty late last night, leaving for two days. Hope you enjoy. :)