Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one apart from the following: Ms Scarlet Johnson, Octavian, Jasmine (Jaz), Miguel and Sasha.
JUST SO YOU KNOW: like everyone else, I have no idea what Stiles' real name is, so I'm going along with what everyone else puts :) and I've made his middle name up XD
Please, please review XD
P.S. I've been really busy with college, so I won't update as regularly as I used to. It's going to be work-work-work, so bear with me, please :)
Chapter 8
Stiles
The next morning – Monday, June 11th – I woke up to the sound of birds chirping.
The sun was just beginning to rise over Beacon Hills, casting shadows deep into the forest surrounding the house I was in.
I looked out of the wide window in the room I had been out in, looking out into the forest. It was kind of beautiful... Never had I really got to appreciate the view of, well, anything before, always to busy with getting to one place or another.
And right now wasn't any different.
Teeth had been brushed, hair as well, glasses were on, Adderall swallowed. Since I didn't have anything to wear, I just stayed in what Derek had given me to wear the day before...hopefully he wouldn't mind.
Sighing a little, I made my way – quietly – out of the room, closing the door behind me. I didn't know if the house was soundproof or not, so it was better to stay quiet... Not that that would help me, considering, you know, werewolves had sensitive hearing like dogs.
Anyhow, as silently as I could, I crept downstairs. All the bruises I had gotten yesterday from Octavian and Ms Johnson the day before weren't giving me any trouble today, thanks to Derek and his pain leeching powers.
Every single door I passed along the way was closed, just like the day before, so that gave me no indication as to whether Derek's family was back or not. It didn't help that I couldn't hear any sound coming from inside of them either...
But, hey, I had had – almost – nine whole years of practice, I could stay quiet enough.
It was actually fairly easy finding the cupboard with all the cleaning supplies in. I mean, I guess it was kind of obvious that it would be in the one under the stairs, because a lot of people put cleaning things in there, but...
Anyway: I found the cleaning supplies.
I figured that I would have to do the same chores in this house as I did back at the Agency, that had to be why Derek took me. I mean, it was the only reason anyone – other than Melissa and Scott, of course – would take me out of that place.
Right?
Shaking my head, I just decided to just get on with it.
It would be easier that way.
Scrubbing.
Dusting.
Washing.
Cooking.
General cleaning...
I made sure everything was spotless and ready.
It had taken me five hours since I had gotten downstairs – it was now nine thirty in the morning – but I was done. Everything on the ground floor of the house was sparkling clean or ready to be eaten and drank.
No one could say that I didn't do my job properly.
"Stiles?" a voice from behind me yawned. "What are you doing down here?"
Spinning around, I pressed my back against the kitchen counter, head down.
"Cooking and cleaning, sir." I mumbled, adjusting my glasses. "I just finished."
"Stiles, you don't have to do that anymore." Derek sighed. "You don't have to do any of that anymore."
"Why else did you take me, if not for this?"
"To save you, dumbass."
Even with Derek's 'explanation', I just didn't get it.
He could have had any of those kids – supernatural kids. Kids like him!
But he took me?
Why me? What was I any good for?
I was useless!
Even though I was still confused, I didn't look up. I just frowned at the floor and pushed my glasses back up my nose. I mean, who was I to question that guy who owned me? Because that was who he was.
"Just sit down at the table, Stiles. Eat and drink." Derek grumbled. "It's going to be a long day."
"May I ask: why?" I whispered, trying to make myself as small as possible as I sat down.
Even though my Adderall kicked in four and a half hours ago, sometimes I still lacked a filter... It had gotten me in trouble more times than I liked to admit.
"Well, considering the amount of things we need to buy for you, we're most likely going to be out for a few hours." Derek told me, sitting at the head of the table to my left. "We need to get you, pretty much, everything that bitch should have provided for you."
"Ms Johnson always said that I had roof over my head and I didn't need anything else." I explained. "Said that a worthless human like me wasn't as important as the special ones at the Agency."
To me, it was something I had gotten used to. Something I had grown up hearing and, in turn, believing.
To Derek... Well, I didn't know what he was thinking, but it mustn't have been good.
"She lied." Derek gritted out through his teeth. "Every word she ever said is a lie."
"But, Ms..." I started.
"And don't say her name again!"
Biting my lip quickly, I stared down at the table.
This wasn't going very well...
In Derek's car my left leg wouldn't stop bouncing up and down; the fingers on my right hand drummed on my right thigh; the nail on my left thumb was getting murdered by my teeth...
So, yeah... Jittery.
I was diagnosed with ADHD at the age of four Well, ADHD hyperactive-impulsive. I was unable to sit still, especially in calm or quiet surroundings; constantly fidgeting; I was unable to settle to tasks...well, some tasks anyway, it depended what they were; I had excessive physical movement; I talked excessively, but only when I trusted the person, which hadn't happened since mom; I sometimes acted without thinking; I interrupted conversations; had little or no sense of danger.
So now, sitting in the calm and quiet, I couldn't help but fidget in my seat. Hence my jittery nature.
Some things had gotten worse over time, once the beatings started – like the not being able to sit still in the calm or quiet.
On top of it all, the skin of my right forearm started to burn, like I had a lighter held to it. I couldn't stand the irritation, the burning coming to a point where I had to try and scratch away the pain. This wasn't anything new; the burning had made an appearance before. Of course, at that time, the skin had broken... The pain wouldn't stop, so I kept scratching, making the already forming marks deeper... Those scars, unlike the ones on my back and torso, had disappeared.
"Stiles." a slightly irritated sigh came.
I didn't answer, just continued to pull at the skin with my nails, trying in vain to get rid of the itch, the chosen spot becoming very red, very fast. But it seemed that no matter what I did to it – left it, scratched it, pressed my palm/fist to it – it just got worse!
I didn't know I broke the skin of my forearm until it started to sting and a hand had grabbed my left wrist.
My head snapped up and to the side quickly, trying separately to get my arm away, coming face to face with Derek.
A frowning Derek.
A...worried – was that worried or concerned? Wait they're the same thing aren't they? – Derek.
Derek didn't let go. Not until I calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his hold...which I will admit took longer than necessary for the average person... He didn't let go of my wrist until I had relaxed back into the seat a little – as well as adjusted my glasses and stared down at my lap again –, even though my left leg was still bouncing up and down and the fingers of my right hand were still drumming away.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked, staring straight ahead, frowning slightly.
"A lot of things are wrong with me." I muttered. "But I have ADHD. I'm sorry, I can't control it."
Derek didn't reply. Instead he took his right hand – the one that had been keeping hold of my wrist – and slowly placed it on the lower part of my thigh, nearer my knee.
I froze at the initial contact, staring at the offending appendage. But somehow, for some reason, I didn't feel as anxious as I normally would have... Don't get me wrong, there was still that blinding panic.
It just wasn't at strong.
That had never happened before.
Of course, that didn't stop my breathing from becoming shallower and faster as the panic hit me.
"I'm not going to hurt you, Stiles." Derek said, softly. "I won't ever hurt you."
An hour and forty six later, we pulled into a parking space in the parking lot of Red Bluff's mall. I had only ever been there once before – with Melissa and Scott – but it looked even bigger now than it ever did back then...
"Right, I have a list of things we need to get." Derek mumbled, digging in his pockets until he pulled out a crumpled piece of paper. "Clothes, shoes, cell phone, laptop, etcetera."
"All that, just for me?" I whispered to myself.
"There's a lot more than just that. Come on."
And, with that, Derek had jumped out of his Camaro, just like he did when we pulled up in front of his house the day before.
Of course, this time, he decided to slam the door shut...
Yeah... Loud noises + Stiles = not good...
As soon as the sound reached my ears, I had the seatbelt off and was crouched in the foot-well of the passenger side of the car.
I was good with getting into small places... With being, pretty much, skin and bone, it was easy for me to fit into spaced that many others would never be able to fit.
Over time, it had proved very useful...
In an instant, Derek had zoomed around the car and wrenched the door open, staring down at me, bewildered.
I remembered the first Scott I did it around Scott... The exact same face, only at that time it was an eleven year old that was aiming it at me. The first time that happened – the first time Scott looked at me like that – that was when I knew that my situation was way worse than I had ever thought it was before.
"You have a lot of explaining to do, later." Derek mused, stretching out a hand to help me up and out. "But let's focus on this first."
I just nodded, adjusting my glasses.
I guess it was a good thing, shopping somewhere nobody knew us... I mean, at least I didn't have to worry about the others from the Agency following me, even if I did keep checking.
But it also meant that people weren't staring. They just assumed that Derek and I were two normal people, just walking straight on by.
It was, actually, kind of nice. Nobody knowing who I was, nobody judging...
It felt nice.
Derek had already dragged me into countless stores to get things for 'my room'. Posters, books, bed sheets, blinds for the window, a toothbrush... Anything you could think of, he got for me. Laptop, cell phone...
We had everything apart from shoes and clothes.
I couldn't even begin to count how many trips Derek had made to his car to put bags away. Well, no, that was a lie. I just had to count how many times to sheer panic – twenty eight, so far – I had felt when he left me alone in a place I didn't know.
I know, it completely contradicts everything I've already said but, hey, everybody does that!
Anyway, getting off track here. Everything on Derek's list had been done, apart from shoes and clothes.
"I-I could just keep wearing what you found me in..." I mumbled. "I-I don't mind, I'm used to it."
"No, Stiles." Derek huffed. "And I swear, if you say that one more time..."
"I'm sorry, don't hit me!"
Derek froze on the spot and spun around to face me, disbelief covering his face.
"Hit you? Why would I...? You know what, don't answer that. I can guess." Derek growled. "Look, I told you, I won't ever hurt you. I was just going to say that if you said it one more time that when you were introduced to the youngest members of my family, I would not stop them from using you as a human colouring book. Their parents just bought them ink colouring pens and will draw on anything and anyone."
And that? Well...that just made me a little fuzzy inside, and I really didn't know why.
But I liked the feeling.
Derek dragged me into all kinds of clothing stores, chucking shirts and jeans and trousers and things at me to go try on.
Over half of the stuff went back to the racks.
Shoes were easy – sneakers, converse sneakers and, for some reason, dress shoes... Clothes, on the other hand, were where it got difficult.
There was one store I liked...
We had walked in and, straight away, my eye had been caught by something over to the right of the store, while Derek steered left.
"Oh." I whispered.
To the right of the store, I spotted t-shirts that were just me: Batman, Superman, Flash, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Hulk, Captain America, etcetera.
You name it.
Superhero t-shirts and checkered button down shirts and shirts with funny slogans and hoodies...
These were the kinds of clothes I would normally want to get. I never did back at the Agency, since Ms Johnson never liked when I had things.
Besides, having a plain t-shirt that was off a dark colour was easier to have. Especially if you were trying to hide blood, or something.
But the things I was looking at, at this instant, they were the things I wanted to have been getting ever since I was a little kid!
I started looking through the racks at everything there. There was a range of colours and pictures, everything!
I would have been happy just staying there.
"Stiles, come on." Derek called, closer than he was earlier.
I jumped back a little, guilty that I had veered off... I was always told never to run off, unless I wanted to be chained up like a dog.
Looking up slightly, I found Derek standing in front of me – damn, werewolves were fast – his head cocked to the side, eyebrows drawn together in a frown.
"Marvel or DC?" he asked.
And I was so not expecting that!
"Huh?" I replied, dumbly.
"Marvel or DC? Which do you prefer?" Derek asked, a shadow of a smile on his face.
This was something I never thought I would talk to about with Derek Hale...
"Both. Marvel and DC both have their awesome heroes and I can't decide which I like. I mean, DC has: Superman, Green Lantern and Green Arrow – have you noticed they like the colour green? Not to mention: Batman, Flash and Catwoman." I nodded, grinning a little more as I kept speaking. "However, Marvel has: Captain America, Daredevil, Wolverine and the X-Men, Hawkeye, Thor and Iron Man – though not one of my favourites. So, you see, it's hard to choice when both have so many awesome heroes and villains! I just wish I still had my comic books. Ms...I mean, she sold everything in my house, including said house... It was the only things she could sell. What she couldn't...well, I don't know where that all went, but the only thing she couldn't take was the money from my parents' life insurance...but I won't get them until I'm eighteen."
I had noticed Derek change during my little speech. At the beginning he had slowly started to smile more and more, looking less like the stoic Alpha everyone knew him as, and more of a...happy, approachable person.
But, as soon as I mentioned me comic books? He reverted straight back to stoic Alpha, growing tenser as I continued to speak, his jaw set. But he tried to stay calm on the outside, even though I could see through it all.
After a moment of silence, Derek moved slowly, so he didn't startle me, picking up one of each t-shirt, hoodie and checkered shirt there...
"Nobody knows this but I still have my comic books from when I was around your age. Still get every new one that's brought out." Derek said, quietly. "I have doubles of every single issue. They're yours now."
"What?" I breathed.
"They're yours. I've got two boxes, and each box is filled with the exact same comic books. One of those boxes is now yours. Now, help me get all of these to the cash register."
Today was just full of surprises.
Just before we went to leave to go back to Beacon Hills, I changed out of the sweatpants and t-shirt Derek let me borrow the day before, and into some of my new stuff.
Black and white converse sneakers with red laces, black skinny jeans, dark purple button down shirt and a blood red leather jacket with a soft-material hood.
The jacket was actually pretty comfy and really awesome... But it took Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf to a whole new level.
Anyway, so I had changed into things that actually fit me and were new... It felt strange, but in a good way.
My life was actually...changing.
I had way too many bags to count. They had all been put into the back of Derek's Camaro, filling up the backseat as well as the trunk. Like, seriously, there was so much!
"I've never had this much stuff." I muttered, starring out of the windshield.
I didn't expect a reply, and that was exactly what I got...
But I just had to say it.
I mean, I really never had this much stuff before, not even as a little kid!
I mean, sure, I had a lot before my parents died, but not this much... And it all just felt so strange to me.
The rest of the ride back to the house was quiet, Derek not being much of a talker and me being told never to speak unless spoken to – unless it was Scott, Melissa or Derek before he took me away from the Agency.
I would have thought I'd start to panic again or the ride would go by so slowly I would be bored out of my skull... But, before I knew it, we were pulling up in front of it.
Still can't believe they live here!
Derek ran most of the bags into the house and up to, what he called, 'my room'. Even the bags I had managed to grab and started taking into the house, he took and ran upstairs.
It took him ten trips, but he was there and back in a flash, what with his wolfy powers.
Where I thought he would have stayed inside after he took the last lot in, Derek did the complete opposite and ran back out, only to walk back in with me.
Even though it was weird, I appreciated it.
A lot.
"You can sort it out however you like." Derek told me as he closed the door and we walked further into the house. "Jasmine and the others are changing what they can for now, but the rest is up to you to place."
"Thank you." I nodded.
"Oh, well isn't that sweet." a voice from behind us said. "Such a polite Little Red."
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