Author's note: Sorry for the delay. I've been busy with other things, but I haven't forgotten about this story. Thanks for all the follows, favorites, and the reviews. Keep them coming. Enjoy.
Chapter 3
Stiles looked at Allison. She stared back at him, wondering why the urgent look on his face. With their past, she figured it could only be one thing; it involved werewolves. Stiles could see a hint of curiosity on her face, but he knew no matter what she expressed, her voiced statement of not wanting to be involved rang louder.
"What wrong?" Danny asked.
Stiles stood in the driveway, looking at his phone and completely ignoring Danny's question. He was going to have to do something he really didn't want to do. He was going to have to speak with Derek.
He looked up at Danny. Danny raised his eyebrow, physically asking his question again. "Nothing," Stiles replied. He walked over to the car and got inside.
Danny reserved out of Allison's driveway and drove off. Stiles stared at his phone. He hesitated to send Derek a text message. The hurt, he had been pushing away, rushed him, causing his hand to shake. Meet me at your home. He hit the "send" button. He didn't know if Derek would even show up.
Stiles directed Danny to Derek's home. Against Danny's petition, Stiles told Danny to leave him there. He'd find a way home. Danny said he'd come over later to spend the night. They were going to wake up early and pick up Lydia and Jackson tomorrow morning before Stiles went to summer school.
Danny turned his car around and drove away. Stiles walked up to the porch and sat down on the steps. His mind jogged back in time to the last time he was here. It was the day Ruby came out to Derek and the rest about being a werewolf.
Everyone was dead set on Ruby shouldn't be trusted, except for Peter. Derek was on the fence. He still didn't know if Derek trusted Ruby. His mind trailed forward a little bit and focused on how she defended him, by growling, when Derek snapped on him. Even Scott growled like Ruby. They weren't going to let anything happen to him.
Where were his friends now? He needed them. He wondered if Ruby or Scott thought about him. Did they think of him as often as he thought of them? Did they think of him at all?
His mind turned its' focus on Derek. Did Derek still consider them "mates" now that they were around each other? Did Derek think of him? Because he thought about Derek, a lot. Stiles couldn't bare the thought if Derek didn't. It was one of those I'm better off not knowing situations.
He shook his head. He didn't want to think about that, not anymore. Not ever. He rose from the porch steps as he heard steps make their way to him.
Derek came, taking long strides towards him. He envisioned it in slow motion like in the movies where the bad ass action hero walks away all cool from an exploding building. Before Stiles could register, Derek stood two feet away from him. "You need something." Derek said, sounding annoyed by Stiles.
Stiles felt a burn in his chest. He pulled out his phone and played the voicemail he received from Erica. He saw Derek's jaw muscles flex. "Did she call you?"
Typical Derek, he ignored the question. Stiles knew the answer. Erica didn't call him. Derek pulled out his phone from his leather coat pocket and dialed a number. He pressed a button and put the call on speaker. Stiles read the panel on Derek's phone to see who he was calling. It said "Uncle Peter."
The phone only rang once. "Hello," Peter answered, sound like he was lounging around.
Derek told Peter about Erica's voicemail to Stiles. Peter asked if she called him too. Derek answered "no" with a growl. He appeared slightly jealous that she didn't call him. Or perhaps it was his guilt getting the best of him.
"Peter, what should we do?" Stiles asked. Derek growled at Stiles, flashing his alpha red eyes. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. Derek didn't like how Stiles took control. Stiles was over stepping his boundaries. Derek was the alpha. He asked all the questions and made all the decisions. Not Stiles or anyone else.
Peter answered Stiles' question. "Nothing. They sound like they were caught by someone or something. They're a lost cause." He answered coldheartedly.
Stiles stared at Derek, waiting to hear his answer. Only his answer mattered, not his narcissistic uncle's. Derek stared back him. Stiles wanted to voice his opinion, but he didn't know if he could speak.
"I'm sorry, am I interrupting a 'Sterek' moment?" Peter asked, sarcastically, holding back his laughter. Stiles had to admit; it was funny. A small grin surfaced on his face.
Derek ended the call and put his phone back in his leather coat. Stiles' grin quickly vanished. Derek was serious. "We need to find them."
"No," Derek said, coldly. Stiles felt a knot in his chest.
"Derek, they're alive." Stiles let out a loud grunt and threw his arms in the air. He was fed up. "FINE! I'll find them myself." He felt the knot tightening in his chest.
Derek growled and Stiles froze in mid-action. "You're not doing a thing. I, and the rest, will go find them." Stiles held his gaze on Derek's face, searching for some hint of actual compassion. Derek was cold as stone with his mouth clamped shut, as he always was when it came to emotion.
It fueled the anger in Stiles. The anger that manifested from his hurt feelings. He squeezed his fist tight, tossing the thought of snapping on Derek and/or punching him in the face, around his head. Be in control, he coached himself. His emotions would get the better of him. He wasn't going to let it happen.
He took a deep breath, calming himself and clearing his mind, but leaving the important thing. He exhaled and said, "Derek, she called me. So whether you like it or not, and I don't care, I'm going to help." He took another deep breath. "You don't get to tell me what to do."
Stiles wanted to grin at this moment. It felt good to stand his ground, but it didn't untie the knot in his chest.
Derek took a step closer. "Stiles," he said his name in a soft tone. It was still a hard tone, just only softer. Stiles interrupted, "just don't."
Stiles did have the curiosity to know what Derek was going to say, but the knot in his chest was tightening. "I have to go." Stiles stormed off quickly. The knot in his chest became too much for him. He couldn't bare being around Derek.
Stiles walked down the long road that led to Derek's house. He continued walking when he reached the main road. He called Danny to pick him up. Danny said he'd be there shortly. Stiles wanted to get away. So he continued walking down the road until Danny found him.
He felt the urge to hear Erica's voice. He called his voicemail, while thinking about how much he had been missing her. He, even, missed Boyd. He pressed "1" and listened to her short voice message.
Stiles' mind returned to the dream he had of Boyd and Erica when he was in the hospital. She called him Batman. She saw him as a valuable asset to their team.
Danny beeped loud, once, behind Stiles, causing him to jump in the air. Stiles heart was pounding so hard in his rib cage, he felt the pounding all the up his neck. He turned around and saw Danny grinning, holding back his laughter. Stiles just glared at him and got in the car.
In normal circumstances, Stiles would have brushed it off and smile, maybe even laugh along with Danny. But this time was different; he was overwhelmed by Derek's presence and how Derek always left him out of things.
As Danny drove off, he glanced at Stiles and said, "so who was so important that you needed to see them…alone?"
Stiles raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I was meeting up with someone? I could've been ritually sacrificing a raccoon or a squirrel for some deity like Diana, the moon goddess." He was calming down to normal now that he was away from Derek's presence, but that didn't loosen the knot in his chest completely.
"Stiles, I was in the closet at one point. So trust me why I say I know a rendezvous when I see one." Danny smiled, not passing judgment.
Stiles sat in silence the rest of the way to his house, staring out the window, thinking of Derek. Of course. He was angry with him for making him feel something for him, for wanting him, all the while, Derek was pushing him away.
They arrived at Stiles' and went to work on Stiles' homework. After that was done-thanks to Danny's help-, they watched Valentine, the other movie Danny brought over. The movie got Stiles' mind off the constant thought that always seemed to hover over his head like a gray cloud, raining on him.
When the movie ended; they brushed their teeth, switched into a pair of basketball shorts, and went to bed, in the same bed. Danny fell asleep right away. Stiles stayed up, staring at the ceiling. He thought about Erica, Boyd, and Ruby. They were either on the run, hunted or held captive; both situations were horrible. He wondered what they were thinking. He couldn't fathom their thoughts or what kind of mind set they were in. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to never know if he were in their place. Never knowing if he'd ever be free, again.
Erica and Boyd had survived by themselves for over two months. Maybe they would return one day.
Stiles brought his hands up, placing them behind his head. He yawned deeply, feeling sleepy, but that didn't put him to sleep. His mind kept working. Ruby, he needed to find her and rescue her. He was reminded there was nothing he could do when the thought of an annoying alpha surfaced from the back of his mind. Derek.
All the thoughts of werewolves made him think of the one he was trying to avoid.
Why couldn't he learn to be more cooperative? Why couldn't he show some human compassion? Stiles knew human compassion wasn't what he wanted Derek to show or express. It was a similar, but different emotion.
He shook his head, pushing the thought away, further denying what was, denying what he wanted.
The shaking of his head caused the bed to move. Danny rolled over to Stiles' side, getting close and perfectly curled under his arm. He cleared his throat and then mumbled out, "go to sleep." He looked down at Danny.
Danny said to him what Derek told him in the hospital the night Derek stayed with him and healed his wound. He could feel the knot tightening in his chest. That prick, he thought.
Stiles obeyed Danny and went to bed, feeling a little heated from thinking about Derek.
The next morning, Stiles woke up to an alarm going off. "Danny, snooze that shit." Danny didn't response and the alarm didn't stop. Stiles rolled over and he didn't feel Danny next to him. He opened an eye and saw that Danny wasn't in bed. With one eye, he scanned his room. Danny's things were still there, except for his shoes and coat and Danny.
Stiles reached over to his night stand and turned the alarm off. Next to the alarm was a folded paper with his name on it. He opened and read the message inside. Stiles, I left to pick up Lydia and Jackson. You were tossing and turning all night. I figured more sleep would be better for you.
Stiles showered, brushed his teeth and cleaned his face, standing naked in front of the mirror. Once he was done, he wrapped himself in a towel and went into his room and got dressed.
He got his book bag and headed downstairs to the kitchen. His father was sitting at the table, eating waffles and reading the newspaper. "Good morning son," his father said, taking his eyes off the newspaper and glancing at him.
"Good morning," Stiles said. He walked over to the cabinets and pulled out a bowl. He poured himself some cereal and sat down next to his father.
"Stiles, I'm getting off work around 4. I want to have dinner. So don't make any plans," his father said.
Stiles nodded with his mouth full of cereal. Dinner with his father sounded like a great idea. Normalcy was always great. He finished his breakfast, told his father to have a great day and be safe, and headed off to summer school.
On his drive there, Scott came to mind. He wondered, for a second, if he knew about the killings. Then, realizing that of course, he knew, he shook his head. Isaac and he were besties now. He was positive Isaac shared that information with him.
A part of him felt the sting of jealousy. Isaac was always with Scott. Scott and Stiles had been friends since the third grade. When his mother died, Scott spent every single moment with him, making sure he was okay, as okay as anyone would be in such a dark time.
Stiles pulled into the parking out of Beacon Hills High and parked his jeep. He pushed out all the bad thoughts and feelings as he grabbed his book bag and exited his jeep. He had to focus on the good things in life: like his friendship with Danny. His growing friendship with Lydia. Whenever he'd think of the bad or the people his missed, one person came to mind and he was trying to get passed that, passed him.
He swung his book bag over his left shoulder and pulled out his phone to put it on vibrate. He walked in the school with several other students in front and behind him. He went straight to his geology class. He entered the classroom. There were only three other students sitting down, two guys and a girl, and two other following behind him.
Mrs. Lawrence wasn't in class. Stiles was little thrown off by that. Usually the teachers were the first in every class. He took the same seat he sat in the day before. As he pulled out his notebook, he noticed a girl sitting in front of him. She wasn't there when he walked up to the seat, but had to appear in the seconds he wasn't paying attention. Perhaps, she was one of the students he heard walking behind him as he entered the class.
Stiles examined her. She had short, straight, raven-colored hair. Her red tank top revealed her fair skin complexion. He saw a black pattern on her right shoulder blade. It was a tattoo, but he could make it out.
As the time wind down for the class to begin, the rest of the students entered the room. Scott came in last. He sat next to Stiles today. Stiles and Scott made eye contact. When Scott's eyes flashed golden amber, Stiles felt the urge to ask "what's going on?" but he didn't.
The door to the classroom closed shut. A medium size, in height, man walked in. He appeared ordinary. He greeted the class, but didn't make eye contact. He picked up a piece of chalk and begun writing on the chalkboard. He spoke, again, "Mrs. Lawrence was reassigned. I'll be taking over this class." Once he finished writing whatever he was writing; he turned around and looked Stiles directly in the eye.
Stiles met with those familiar round, brown eyes. "I'm Mr. Del Bosque." Mr. Del Bosque stepped aside, revealing his name on the chalkboard. Federico Del Bosque. "I like to form a bond with my students. So as you grow, I hope to grow as well." He grabbed some papers and walked over to the first row. He passed papers to the first person in every row and the student would pass the rest back. "You all may call me Freddie." Freddie, the omega that betrayed Ruby and the rest of us.
Stiles, now, understood why Scott's eyes were flashed amber. Scott sensed Freddie. Stiles looked at Scott, whose top lip was twitching in rage. But Freddie being his teacher wasn't the most oppressing thing. The girl sitting in front of him turned around and handed him the paper. Stiles' jaw fell open as his gaze caught with the girl in front of him. He sighed. "Ruby," he mumbled so low.
