Authors Note: HEYO! XD Please tell me what you think; I would love to know XD I own nothing and no one.
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
Chapter 8
Stiles
Ok, so Derek had a black Camaro. With leather seats. Now don't get me wrong, I love my Jeep. She's a beautiful car and I don't care what people say about here. But damn! Talk about a sexy car for a sexy guy!
But not even thinking about Derek's car could make me any less jittery. 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.
Even though I wasn't diagnosed with ADHD, I did actually have a few qualities of someone with it. 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, but I had started getting a handle on that; I talked excessively, but only when I trusted the person, which hadn't happened since mom; I sometimes acted without thinking.
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. Usually that was what it would be like before dad would turn around and hit me. And since I didn't know these people, didn't know Derek...the fidgeting was worse than usual.
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, my claws coming into play when I felt as if my human nails weren't working, 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, 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, buddy." I muttered. "You'll have to be a bit more specific."
Derek didn't reply. Instead he took his right hand – the one that had been keeping hold of my wrist – and slowly placed in 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.
We pulled up outside of the mall after everyone else. The building was...large, that's the only way I could describe it, to be honest. It was big and mall-ish. Yeah, mall-ish... So sue me, I never really went to the mall, I didn't really know what they were like. If any of them noticed, though, they didn't say anything. No, instead, Lydia just looped her arm through mine – Erica on the other side – and together they dragged me towards the building.
"Do you have to touch me so much?" I asked, sighing yet still uncomfortable.
"Yes." Erica replied, instantly.
"Otherwise you could just run away." Lydia agreed.
I shook my head. I wouldn't be able to get them to release me, so I – reluctantly – allowed them to drag me along.
Everyone else was trailing behind us, all laughing and joking. Peter was just being sassy and sarcastic, as always... I wouldn't say I liked Peter, but it was nice to have someone as sarcastic as me around. It was fun, actually.
Well, unless it was directed at you. But it hadn't been aimed at me...yet.
"Stiles, just try it on."
"No!"
"Why not, it's cute?!"
"Exactly! I don't do cute!"
"Stiles..."
"No!"
"Please..."
"No!"
"Just..."
"No!"
That was pretty much how it started as soon as we entered a store.
I was being dragged into all kinds of clothing stores, having shirts and jeans and things chucked at me to go try on. Over half of the stuff went back to the racks. I had noticed though that, anytime the girls found something they liked on and fit me, they would shove the clothes towards one of the guys and drag me to a different store. When I saw the guys again, there were bags.
I didn't really like this arrangement...
One of the first few stores we went into, I noticed that there was someone watching us. The guy was around my dad's age; he was a brunette and looked like an ordinary guy. Well, until you saw the gun that was mostly hidden. You wouldn't notice it if you weren't looking hard enough, but it was there. I could smell the sharpness of wolfs bane emitting from the gun, cluing me in that he was a hunter. Not that I could tell the others that, they didn't know that I knew that they were all – apart from Allison – werewolves.
Scott noticed me glancing at the guy every now and then and, while everyone else was distracted yet tense.
"That's Chris Argent, Allison's dad." Scott told me. "He doesn't like us much. Doesn't like the fact I'm dating his daughter either."
I nodded. So, Allison was a hunter... Huh. I never would have pinned Allison as a hunter. She was too nice. Ok, actually, yeah, scrap that. I could see her as a hunter. Though she couldn't have been bad right? If she was living with, friends with and dating a werewolf.
I couldn't tell you what compelled me to do it, but I found myself walking over to Mr Argent. I found myself wondering why I was doing this, wondering what I was even doing. I should be running away from the hunter with wolfs bane bullets – not that they could kill me, thank you fox! – not walking towards him!
But soon, I found myself face to face with the hunter.
"Er, hi, Mr Argent." I found myself saying. "So, you don't know me... Well, you probably do, the rest of the town have, anyway! I'm Stiles. Stiles Stilinski. I know your daughter. I just wanted to say that, if I were you, I would hide that gun of yours better. You wouldn't want to draw attention to yourself. Would you?"
Mr Argent blinked a couple of times before adjusting his gun, to keep in completely hidden. He glanced over my shoulder to where the rest of the Pack was standing before he turned back to me.
"And you should be careful of the company you keep." he said, calmly.
"You should keep careful of the enemies you make." I replied, simply, shrugging. "Bye, Mr Argent."
With that, I turned on my heels, walking back towards the Pack, all of us walking further into the store. I just ignored the questioning looks I was getting from all of them.
There was one store I liked...
We had walked in, after I had been promised it would be the last store of the day. I knew I was going to be even border than in the others, the girls probably going to find more in this one store than in any of the others.
But, while they went to the left, I went to the right.
"Oh." I mumbled.
To the right, I spotted t-shirts that were just me. Batman, Superman, Flash, Iron Man, Green Lantern, Hulk, Captain America. You name it. Superhero t-shirts and checkered button down shirts and shirts with funny slogans, hoodies... These were the kinds of clothes I would normally want to get. I never did back in Dallas because...well, having plain t-shirts that were off a dark colour were 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 should have been getting.
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." Lydia called, closer than she was earlier.
"But..." I started, pointing towards the stuff around me.
"No. You're not getting anything nerdy. Now, come on."
"But..."
"Now!"
I flinched slightly at the loud and demanding tone of her voice... If it was followed up by a swift cut to the stomach, a punch to the face or fire to the back then it would have brought on a much worse reaction.
For now, I just flinched and dropped my head to stare at the ground. I moved away from the racks, shoving my hands into my pockets, making my way towards the other side of the store where they were all standing.
"Sorry." I whispered, as I walked past.
At the end of it all, I had 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 many clothes." 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 many clothes before! I still couldn't see why these people were taking such an interest in me... I didn't know why they were helping me or why they felt the need to do anything for me... It was confusing. Just confusing and stressful and...
And kind of nice...
It was nice to have people do that for me. Sure, was still wary of it all and everything... But it was nice even just imagining that someone cared, after all this time.
The ride back to the house was quiet. Derek wasn't much of a talker and I rarely talked anyway. And while some people would have thought that the silence would have made the journey go slowly, it actually didn't. Before we knew it, we were pulling up outside the house.
Even though we were the last to the mall, we seemed to be the first back to the house, so Derek helped me take the bags inside. Once everything was in the room I was occupying – my comic books box in there as well and all the other boxes from my Jeep –, Derek told me to unpack them. And, like, actually unpack and hang them up. He didn't leave until I agreed and meant it.
I was still going by the time everyone else got back, but I liked the time alone.
I had gotten down to the last couple of bags when I noticed something though. In these last few, I found the superhero t-shirts, funny slogan t-shirts, checkered button down shirts and hoodies I had been looking at in that last store. Well that was...unexpected. I found a note folded on top of one of the shirts, the handwriting neat and clear, though a little rushed.
Thought you might want these.
Derek
Well, that was... Yeah.
Shut up, I didn't know what to make of it! Would you?! I mean the guy actually bought me the things I was looking at in the store. Without me noticing. Without Lydia noticing. That was some skill he had.
Back downstairs, I found everyone sitting in the living room in their usual spots. As I walked through with one of my sketch pads, I couldn't resist the urge to hum the Walking Dead theme tune again.
What made it funnier was that no one knew why I was doing it. They probably didn't even recognise the music.
I sat down against the wall, sketch pad propped up on my lap as everyone else started talking, the TV on in the background on some radio station or whatever. I wasn't really listening. I was focusing too much on letting my pencil glide along the paper of the pad of paper in front of me.
That was, until Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen started playing.
I started humming along to the song, like I usually did. The slow, sad, start of the song always calming. Since I wasn't paying attention to what was going on around me – I was doodling, guys – I didn't notice the amused looks I was getting from everyone.
While the song stayed calm, so did I. Gently swaying while I hummed along to the lyrics.
Until the whole thing changed. And who can resist doing the head banging?! No one in their right mind could. So it totally wasn't my fault!
I guess looking up was kind of a mistake, finding everyone staring at me...
"What?" I asked, hesitantly.
"You're humming," Derek stated. "And dancing to a song."
My eyes went wide slightly... Should have remembered they were here.
"Do you want me to stop?" I asked, licking my lips to stop them drying out.
"No, we would very much like you to carry on." Peter piped up, a hint of sarcasm present. "We would very much like you to destroy the peace with your performance."
"Ass."
I sang along to the rest of the song in my head, making sure to keep myself in check. I think, all in all, I did pretty well with that.
Early hours of Monday morning made me wake up screaming, panting and sweating again. I had another dream but this time it was with dad. I groaned, flopping back down onto the bed, starting a little when the door fully opened.
"What's wrong? We heard you scream." Erica asked, looking around the room.
Then they all looked at me properly.
"Were you having a nightmare?" Jackson asked, irritated.
It was safe to say that I ran as fast as I could, grabbing my hoodie and sneakers before pushing past them and down the stairs.
While I ran, I managed to get the three items on before I was out of the door. But that didn't stop me from running.
I had been running for a few minutes when Derek caught up with me. He tried to get me to stop, tried to get me to listen. But I just kept running faster and faster, trying to get away. Even if it would just be for a short while.
"Just leave me alone!" I shouted over to him.
"No." he replied, calmly.
"Why not?!"
"Because I want to run too."
Well, if he wanted a run...
I ended up out running him. Yeah, that's right. I outran the Alpha of the Hale Pack.
Suck on that!
I was actually grinning by the time he caught up with me – aka, back outside the house.
"Your door wasn't shut properly." was all Derek said.
"What?" I asked.
"The doo, to your room. It wasn't shut properly. It's how we heard."
"Oh..."
Derek turned around to look at me as we made our way up the steps and towards the front door.
"You could have just said." he told me, before disappearing inside.
Following him, I was going to say how no, I really could have 'just said', but the words caught in my throat.
Sitting on the table, in the kitchen, were my sketch pads. Not all of them, just a few. But they were going through them.
"Were you up the whole night?" Peter asked, still flicking through one of the books."
"Whatever gave you that idea?" I muttered, taking the sketch pads back.
Some were harder to get than the others – depended on who was holding then. Jackson seemed to be one of these resisters.
He kept twisting away, flipping through the pages until he stopped on one. One that I just caught a glimpse of.
"Hey, who's this?" he asked, turning the book around, grinning.
I didn't have to look to know who it was.
"My mom." I replied, able to take the book back easily, what with the slack grip.
I ran up the stairs with them, storing the books back into their box, before jogging back downstairs to jump in my Jeep and headed to the university.
It was later, after school, after I had avoided everyone all day, that some were doing homework in the living room. Lydia was helping Allison with the English we had gotten the week before that was due in next Wednesday, since the three of us didn't get any homework to do that day.
The task was on Romeo and Juliet. About the passage in Act two, scene two where Romeo is talking about Juliet – this one:
ROMEO
He jests at scars that never felt a wound.
(JULIET appears in a window above)
But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.
Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she.
Be not her maid since she is envious.
Her vestal livery is but sick and green,
And none but fools do wear it. Cast it off!
It is my lady. Oh, it is my love.
Oh, that she knew she were!
She speaks, yet she says nothing. What of that?
Her eye discourses. I will answer it.—
I am too bold. 'Tis not to me she speaks.
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars
As daylight doth a lamp. Her eye in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright
That birds would sing and think it were not night.
See how she leans her cheek upon her hand.
Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand
That I might touch that cheek!
It was a good Passage, even better if you knew what it actually meant. Which was what Lydia was trying to explain to Allison.
While Lydia had the basic idea of what Romeo was saying, she wasn't giving the right translations.
"Actually, you're wrong." I said.
Everyone just stared at me, some looking a little worried. Lydia turned around slowly, flicking her over her shoulder.
"Excuse me?" she questioned.
"You're wrong." I repeated. "The translations."
"Oh, and you know what it actually is, do you?"
"Yeah, I do actually."
Lydia made a gesture for me to go ahead... So I did.
"It's easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut. But wait, what's that light in the window over there? It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. Rise up, beautiful sun, and kill the jealous moon. The moon is already sick and pale with grief because you, Juliet, her maid, are more beautiful than she." I recited, looking directly at the strawberry blonde. "Don't be her maid, because she is jealous. Virginity makes her look sick and green. Only fools hold on to their virginity. Let it go. Oh, there's my lady! Oh, it is my love. Oh, I wish she knew how much I love her. She's talking, but she's not saying anything. So what? Her eyes are saying something. I will answer them. I am too bold. She's not talking to me. Two of the brightest stars in the whole sky had to go away on business, and they're asking her eyes to twinkle in their places until they return. What if her eyes were in the sky and the stars were in her head?—The brightness of her cheeks would outshine the stars the way the sun outshines a lamp. If her eyes were in the night sky, they would shine so brightly through space that birds would start singing, thinking her light was the light of day. Look how she leans her hand on her cheek. Oh, I wish I was the glove on that hand so that I could touch that cheek."
They all just continued to stare at me, this time with wonder and amazement.
"How did you know that?" Allison breathed.
I shrugged.
"I know a lot of things." I replied, simply. "I can read and speak Greek and Archaic Latin. I get my assignments done so quickly because I know most of the information, as well as having a lot of free time... I just don't like bragging about it all."
It was then that I found out that Lydia could read and speak Archaic Latin too... She was the only other person I knew that could. It was then that they found out how much I knew, all of them questioning me on every topic they could think of...
It was really quite strange.
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