It was still dark when Stiles woke up the next morning, quietly changing into a pair of basketball shorts and a loose-fitting muscle tee. He laced up his running shoes, and tugged on a red hoodie before grabbing his phone, keys, and mp3 player. Then, the teen made his way out of the house, making as little noise as possible. Once he was at the sidewalk, he put in his earphones, started playing his music, and took out in a jog down the concrete beneath his feet. He focused on each step as he took it, making sure he put one foot far enough in front of the other so that he would not trip himself up.
Stiles strayed off of the sidewalk and into the woods as he reached the bike path entrance. The ground was rocky, less steady and Stiles had to focus a little more. He glanced down every few steps, and found himself tensing increasingly as he grew further and further away from the house. Stiles slowly came to stop near the stream he had been at the evening before, with the first rays of light peeking through the trees and he bent down to tie his shoe. As he straightened up, he slowly slid one hand into his hoodie pocket and used it to carefully open a pocket knife he always kept in there. Once it was open, the teen spun around and threw it as hard as he could at a spot directly behind him where he could sense someone following him.
The man behind him barely caught the blade before it struck him in the face and he smirked as he dropped the blade to the forest floor. "Hello," the man said in a dark, silky voice that sent chills down Stiles' spine. "You must be Stiles."
Stiles' eyes narrowed as he watched the man, trying to place where he had seen the other. However, Stiles had very little time to think before there was someone practically appearing out of nowhere in front of him. Stiles found himself staring at the back of Derek's leather jacket as the young man practically growled at the unknown person. "Go away, Peter," Derek insisted, his voice low but even, leaving no room for argument.
Peter just lifted his head slightly, upper lip curling in a slight snarl while his eyes remained trained on Stiles just over Derek's shoulder. The young hunter was completely lost, which only irritated him to the point of scowling as he crossed his arms over his chest. Though a voice in his head told him to drop both arms, to be ready for an impending attack, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Dean. Stiles dropped his arms after a second, while the other two men continued glaring at one another and Stiles rolled his eyes before turning his back and walking away. "Let me know when you two are done with your testosterone battle," he called, waving over his shoulder without looking back.
"You're not supposed to be here, Peter," Derek said only after Stiles had left the area, and he relaxed just slightly. It was evident in how he stood, however, that Derek did not fully trust the elder man. "That was part of the deal."
"I'm doing no one harm," replied Peter with a sigh and a shake of his head. He then rolled a shoulder in a mock of a shrug. "I heard we had new neighbors and was... intrigued."
"Go be intrigued elsewhere."
Neither moved for several more moments, but eventually Peter sighed and turned around, walking off in the opposite direction of where Stiles had gone. Derek did not relax until Peter was gone from sight, and even then, he remained cautious. The young man turned to look down the path that Stiles had taken away from him, and he considered going after the teen. After a minute, though, Derek went off toward the house instead.
Once he got there, Derek rolled his eyes at the sound of his pack in the kitchen of the re-built Hale house. A slight smile tugged upward on his lips, however, as he climbed the steps onto the porch. It was nice to have the house feel lived in again. "Who let Isaac cook?" questioned Derek as he walked into the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at the smoke coming from the burning food on the stovetop.
"Shit!" the curly-haired teen exclaimed, running over to the stove from where he had been engaged in conversation with Scott and Allison.
Erica chuckled softly, tugging a hairtie off of her wrist to pull her hair up and back with. "We were giving him another chance," she informed Derek, gently nudging Isaac aside so she could toss out the burnt food and rinse off the pan in the sink. "Good run, today?"
"Shouldn't you be getting ready for school in your own homes?" questioned Derek as he gently grabbed Erica's shoulders and shifted her away from the stove so that he could make them all breakfast.
"We got ready early, wanted to spend time with you, oh Alpha," Scott smirked as he spoke, leaning against the wall behind him. The teen just laughed when Derek glared over at him.
"You were up early," Sam commented when Stiles sat down across from him at the table, freshly showered and changed for school.
Stiles just hummed as he grabbed a glass of orange juice that Castiel had placed in front of him, saying something about it being freshly squeezed. "Went for a run," Stiles said idly as he chewed on a bite of toast while Dean and Cas sat down at the table as well.
Dean frowned a little as he watched Stiles' hesitant movements, and he glanced over at Sam, who simply shrugged. "You okay, kid?" asked Dean. He continued to study his nephew carefully as they sat there.
"Yeah. Headache." Stiles shrugged a little, rubbing the side of his temple for a second before grabbing his juice again. "I'm fine, though. It'll pass." Stiles nodded a little and ran a hand through his hair. "Wanna give me a ride to school?"
"I'll do it," offered Sam, starting to stand up from the table.
"No. No one drives my car but me," Dean said, cutting off Sam's offer. "I've got it."
Cas glanced between the siblings but said nothing as Sam sat back down with a sigh. They all knew that rule was broken sometimes. "Alright. Stop and get some food, yeah? We need more of everything."
"Yeah, yeah," replied Dean with a dismissive wave of his hand, getting up from the table in order to go get his favored leather jacket off of the coat stand. "C'mon, kid, let's go."
Stiles took a final drink of his juice as he stood up as well, quietly mumbling a "Thanks for the juice, Cas," as he went. Stiles grabbed his backpack off of the chair in the hall that rested against the wall near the stairs. The teen was quiet the entire walk out to the car and as Dean drove him toward the school, resting his head on the cool glass of the window.
"You okay, kiddo?" Dean questioned after a few blocks, glancing over at Stiles several times in-between checking the road ahead of him.
Stiles nodded without lifting his head, humming out a response. "Head still hurts." He felt as though he had run into a wall, or maybe run over by a truck. Either way, his head was pounding and it made it hard to concentrate. Stiles sat up fully then when Dean reached over and placed the back of his hand against the teen's face. "What're you doing?"
"No fever. You'll be fine." Dean nodded once to himself, replacing both hands on the wheel with a nod of his head. Stiles rolled his eyes, but smiled faintly anyway.
When they got to the school, they found Derek hanging around with Erica, Boyd, and Isaac in the parking lot, talking quietly amongst themselves near the edge. Scott was with Allison, Lydia, and Jackson near the front doors, seemingly on edge about something. It made Dean frown, but he did not comment. "I'll walk from school," Stiles announced as he undid his seat-belt once Dean had stopped the Impala.
Whatever Dean had to say in response, Stiles cut off with a slam of the car door, and he continued into the school, smiling faintly at Scott as he passed the teen who smiled brightly at him. It seemed the kid was always in a good mood.
By lunch that afternoon, Stiles' headache had finally gone, however several times over he found himself tense with the feeling of someone watching him. Every time he subtly looked around him, there was no one looking at him. It only put him more on edge, enough that when Scott McCall sat down across from him at the lunch table, he jumped. "Sorry," stated Scott with a sheepish smile. "D'you mind if I sit here?"
Stiles raised his brow, taking a drink of his Coke before chuckling a little. "Well, not much of a choice now is there?" replied Stiles with a slight smirk. Scott looked horrified at the fact that he'd just sat down before finding out if it was okay, but Stiles waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, s'cool. Better than sitting alone again."
"So, you lived here before?" Scott spoke as he grabbed a french fry off of his tray, crossing one arm in front of him on top of the table.
"Mmhmm, long time ago. I don't remember you." Stiles shook his head a little, glancing around them. "I remember her, him... several others; but, not you."
Scott shook his head with a slight shrug. "Probably hadn't moved here yet. I only moved here about five years ago-ish."
Stiles nodded at the information. "Cool. So, how'd you meet Derek Hale?" Stiles was still curious about the man that had shown up at his house not long ago. He knew the story of Laura, and how the Hales were werewolves. He wondered if that meant Scott and all the kids who ran with him were too. Stiles still did not feel like he had the full story. He knew what his uncles deemed to be important, however.
"He helped me figure some stuff out," Scott shrugged again, but that time with a slight smile. "Peter kind of made a mess of things."
"Peter?" Stiles' brow furrowed a little at that. Wasn't that the name of the man that had shown up in the woods? Stiles was sure that was the name Derek had said when telling the man to get lost.
"Yeah, Peter Hale. He's Derek's uncle. He's a little... off."
Stiles nodded a little at that information. It was more than Dean or Sam had really given him. Scott seemed like a good guy, Stiles decided as they sat there talking throughout lunch. Who really cared if Scott was like the Hales? He surely didn't; and, maybe he might even make a friend.
"What's this?" Stiles asked when he got home that afternoon, finding an old Jeep in the driveway next to Dean's Impala that he and Sam were washing.
"For you," answered Sam, tossing a wet rag to Stiles only to his his nephew in the face with it when the teen did not catch it, making all of them laugh even though Stiles glared when he pulled the rag off of his face. "Help us with this."
"Yeah, okay." Stiles walked over and dropped his backpack onto the front step before walking over to help his uncles finish cleaning off the blue Jeep. "This is really cool." Stiles could not keep from smiling as they worked. He'd never had a car of his own before, and not having to rely on Sam and Dean to drive him around would be a great sense of freedom that he definitely wanted.
The three of them sat on the front porch with a bottle of soda each after they finished washing the Jeep, watching as Cas sat in the middle of the front yard talking quietly with a cat. He probably looked insane to anyone who did not know him, but Dean had to mask a smile behind his drink at the sight of the angel.
It was almost dark when Stiles announced he was going to order them some pizza before the teen got up, taking Sam's offered wallet, and went inside. It was then that a black Camaro parked out in front of the house, making both Sam and Dean straighten up a little more, tensing until they watched Derek Hale exit the car. "Derek. What's up?" questioned Sam with a smile, standing up while brushing off the back of his jeans. The smile faded when he noticed the serious, dark expression on the werewolf's face. "Derek?"
"There's something going on," Derek answered after a moment, idly wetting his lips as he seemed to struggle with the right words to say. His eyes flickered toward the house when Stiles came outside, smiling as he almost started to announce the pizza was ordered only to stop when he saw Derek standing there. "Out in the woods, Lydia saw... something odd. She said it was like black smoke, but there's no fire."
Sam and Dean shared a look before looking over their shoulders toward Stiles, who clenched his jaw and his fists on either side. "Demon," Stiles stated quietly, though all of them heard him clearly.