Chapter 4: (Everything is) debatable
Stiles' mood: making up for previously unfelt emotions
Stiles woke up and it was just immediately there. No moment of blissful ignorance, no nothing. Zombies, people dying and dead, stuck in a lab. Wham! Tears threatened, so Stiles turned to the feeling of Derek's arms around him. Of Derek's warm chest under his cheek. Of the way Derek's strong hand loosely encircled his wrist. Stiles tried really hard to bask in all of it and it worked, but just barely. Carefully, Stiles extricated himself from Derek's embrace, but not without waking the man.
A stranger, Stiles reminded himself. He had to because Derek didn't feel like a guy he'd just met. Not even remotely. The lights flickered on at that moment. Stiles was thankful, but - always one to look a gift horse in the mouth – also suspicious. They go to sleep: the lights go out because of a power outage or whatever. They wake up: power's back on again. The timing was a little convenient, no? Stiles caught Derek's eye and noted that he didn't look entirely happy about the situation either.
'Thank you. For…' Stiles started, but found himself unable to finish. Letting me sleep in your arms? Keeping me warm and safe and sane? These were not appropriate things to say to a stranger.
'Don't mention it,' Derek gruffly replied.
'Alright,' Stiles said, taken aback. Derek looked up then and touched Stiles' arm. Heat radiated out from the point of contact, suffusing Stiles' body with warmth. I'm turning this into a thing it isn't, Stiles thought. But it felt so good and – dammit! - he was in need of something good. Derek gave him slight smile before letting go.
'That's not a threat, you know,' he joked. He rubbed his eyes, yawned and stretched. None of these things were important, of course, but they were very pleasing to watch. In addition to the two of them, the others were awakening too now. Probably partly due to the sudden bright light. Stiles observed the pale skin, the bags under their eyes, the bloodshot eyes. We all look kind of like zombies, he realised. That sent a shiver down his spine.
Scott, curiously retired to a corner of the lab, beckoned Stiles. They formed a huddle. It was weird. Like the smallest pre-game lacrosse huddle ever. Stiles didn't understand why they were huddling; he just automatically mimicked Scott's movements.
'So,' was all Scot said.
'Yeah,' Stiles replied.
'Unbelievable.'
'Totally.'
'Zombies. They're real.'
'Oh, that too, yeah. Derek being into me, though. Whoa!'
Scott stared at his friend in disbelief and shook his head, as if this was the wrong thing to focus on.
'Priorities, Stiles.'
'Okay. Alright. What's with the huddle?'
Scott shuffled even closer and lifted his sweater. Stiles was confused for a second before being horrified. There was a bite mark on Scott's stomach. It was recent, but didn't appear particularly fresh. And, not that Stiles was an expert or anything, but it looked human.
'What do we do now? How do we fix this? You know these things,' Scott whispered, quickly covering up the bite mark. Stiles shushed him. He knew that Jackson would probably want Scott shot, if he found out. For the umpteenth time since the beginning of this ill-conceived Halloween trip, Stiles fought back tears. Because there was no fixing this. No antidote. No cure. Becoming a zombie was like a becoming a vampire. You got bitten; you died. There was no cure for death.
He glanced up at Scott, whose eyes were wide with fear. Stiles decided that this was not the time to sugarcoat matters. That would be counterproductive. He took a deep breath and was just about to inform his best friend about his impending death – he managed to get as far as 'Scott, I'm afraid…' - when Derek barged in. Before Scott could object, Derek had tugged up the sweater and was inspecting the wound. Okay, Stiles thought, there's no way he could have overheard us from over there.
'It'll heal. Don't worry. You'll be fine,' Derek pronounced. He looked grim.
'I'm not infected?' Scott insisted, relief written all over his face.
'It's not a zombie bite, so no. You'll live.'
'That's not the same thing!' Stiles protested. 'You'll be fine. You'll live. That's not…'
He broke off when Derek shot him a warning glance. Not a zombie bite? What did that even mean? And how the hell did Derek know it was not a zombie bite?
'What's up?' Jackson asked, reminding Stiles that he should really lower his voice when talking about stuff that could get Scott killed.
'Nothing,' Derek barked. 'We should get out of here.'
'Why?' Jackson demanded.
'Because something came in while we were sleeping.'
A brief terror-filled silence descended on the room. Lydia broke it.
'Something?' she muttered. 'Zombies? No… Something other than zombies.'
She was quick. Terrified and still her brain was whirring, connecting, forming conclusions. She shook her head slowly, but not because she didn't believe Derek. She was processing, adding up, subtracting. Making the math work.
'You said no one would be able to get in,' she said, addressing Derek. There was an undeniable accusatory tone to her voice.
'I was wrong.'
'How do you know? What happened?' Allison inquired.
'I just do. We should get moving right now. We're sitting ducks.'
None of them appeared thrilled at the idea of venturing out into the facility again, so none of them moved. Derek sighed.
'We're not safe here. The doors were blocked. You all saw me do it. No one could have gotten in without pushing a lot of heavy equipment out of the way and making a lot of noise in the process. Yet, something did. Something came in here and none of us noticed. The power was out, which means the doors weren't supposed to work. Yet, they did. Whatever's after us is smart. It's strong. It's quiet. It controls the power. It might even be watching us.'
It was quite the speech. It was the most Derek had spoken since they'd met and basically he had said nothing. Nothing new, anyway. As much as Stiles appreciated Derek keeping Scott's secret, he still would have liked some answers. He was a fan of answers.
'Something is playing with us,' Scott said.
'Yes,' Derek breathed. So, they did what no one wanted to do. They moved the desks and laboratory equipment aside. Allison squeezed Scott's hand. Lydia kissed Jackson. Derek rolled his eyes at Stiles. They opened the door. They went forth. Into the unknown.