A/N: So sorry about the month long delay, everyone. Life was pretty hectic, and then I watched The Fast and the Furious series for the first time (which took up all my free time for a whole week) and then I got a plot bunny for a TFaTF fic and... anyway the short version is that TFaTF + life kept me away, but here you go! A new chapter, and I will endeavor not to leave for so long ever again. Enjoy!
Chapter 12
At first, no one seemed to notice what was different about Stiles at rehearsals. Derek and Stiles had been alone on the bus for about an hour, and after the miracle of their revelation, they'd discussed how to proceed. Stiles had suggested, and Derek agreed, that they let everyone know right away. Not that they should broadcast it, but in a more subtle way. In this case, it entailed Stiles no longer covering his wrists and waiting to see how long it took people to notice.
Honestly, it just sounded like Stiles playing a practical joke on the entire crew and also boasting about his joyous new status in life. Derek was entirely okay with this.
They walked into the backstage area – or Derek hobbled and Stiles held doors open for him and his crutches, but the idea was the same – and Derek took a seat to be a simple spectator. Laura came over to offer him a water bottle almost immediately before walking away, talking into her ear piece. Scott and Melissa both came over to thank him in private since Stiles was up and functional once more, but neither had yet noticed the difference, although they both squinted at Stiles while they spoke, suggesting they knew something was different.
Uncle Peter was there as well, and he seemed less than pleased about the interruption to their schedule and Derek's sudden appearance, but he saw Derek's crutches and must have realized he wasn't being replaced, because he even managed to smile when he came to greet his nephew.
"Derek!" he exclaimed overdramatically. "Still broken, I see."
"Yes, Uncle Peter. Your job is still safe," Derek agreed, patting the crutches across his lap. "You're still in charge for the rest of the tour. I'm just here to… consult."
"Good, good," Peter said and clapped Derek on the back. "And you can take notes from how I handle things. Wouldn't want you getting run over again on your next assignment."
"Definitely not. Can't have you taking all my credit," Derek replied in a clipped manner, suggesting the conversation should end. Peter made a displeased noise but walked away nonetheless.
Another point of discussion before Derek and Stiles returned to set was how to keep Derek there legally. Stiles didn't want Derek to leave. Which worked out great, because Derek didn't want to go either. Like hell he was going to drive or fly back to L.A. with Jennifer being a bitch and Matt Daehler talking to the public and everyone's eyes on Stiles. What kind of soul mate left in the middle of that kind of shit storm? Not a good one, that's for sure.
So after set up and sound check, Stiles was going to get Melissa to draw up any forms needed to allow Derek to stay on the tour as a consultant – of what, Stiles didn't care, as long as it got Derek to stay.
With his uncle gone, Derek focused on Stiles, on the way the light from the stage caught on his hair and made his skin glow. Smiling, he looked over Stiles' wrist and thought about the much more intense glow that had happened on the bus.
Soul mates. What a powerful thing. His leg was broken, but he felt like floating.
"Stiles?!"
Of course it was Lydia who freaked out and stormed quickly onto the stage, her heels clicking in rapid succession and echoing around the hall. Jordan looked up from a checklist he was going over with a crew member to see the source of her outburst, as did most people.
"What's up, Lydia?" Stiles asked, lowering his hand with the mic, which was fully healed from its burn.
"Don't 'what's up' me," she said and snatched up his arm again. "When did this happen?"
Scott was standing ten feet away and gasped before rushing over. "Oh my God, Dude! I knew something was different! How?!"
And then there were six people swarming the stage, surrounding Stiles to get a look at his blank wrist. Those who knew about his previous wounds were even more shocked than those who didn't, and Stiles just stood and smiled and laughed because no one gave him time to say two words, much less explain anything.
It was only two minutes later when Laura and Scott both exclaimed, simultaneously, "Wait, Derek?" despite Stiles not having said anything yet. Then Laura was upon him, pulling his arm up almost painfully fast to show off his equally blank wrist to anyone looking.
"Oh my god!" she exclaimed and beamed down at him. "Tell me I'm not dreaming."
"You're definitely conscious," Derek replied. "But I wouldn't put hallucinations past you, to be honest."
That earned him a smack on the head, but it was worth it for the intense hug he got afterward. Derek locked eyes with Stiles across the room and found himself smiling just as widely as the singer, but both of their grins dropped when Peter stomped a foot and clapped loudly at the same time, shouting to get the attention on him.
"Not that I'm not overcome with joy about the bonding of soul mates in this cosmic beauty that is life, but we have a show to put on, and no one is paying attention to their jobs," he shouted. "Now if my crew mates would be so kind as to resume scouting for security threats, that would be lovely. Thank you."
"Like a lead balloon," Laura murmured by Derek. Peter's head snapped around as though he'd heard her, but he was just far enough away that he could only have noticed her voice and not what she'd said. After a careful scrutiny of his niece, Peter narrowed his eyes and walked away to scare some poor temp crew member into doing more of a job than necessary. "Oh, Derek," Laura sighed once he was gone, the smile returning to her face.
"I know. Trust me, I know." Derek ran his left hand over his bare right wrist. "It's so weird for them not to be there."
"Yeah," Stiles said, walking over. "I kinda miss them."
"Yours?" Laura asked, unaware of the previous state of Stiles' wrist.
The singer laughed and shook his head. "No. Derek's. No numbers. No wristband. It's like you're a totally different person, dude."
"You too. I can see your whole arm. It's like a scandal," Derek teased back and Laura groaned beside them, drawing their attentions away from each other. At first Derek thought she was going to make some comment about them being cheesy or cute, but the expression on her face suggested she was honestly upset about something, and his brow knit together curiously.
"Scandal. Oh my gosh. People are going to notice when you stop wearing your arm coverings," she explained. "Oh man. This is going to make people explode. I need to go talk to Melissa right away. Derek-." She paused, remembering Derek wasn't on the security team, and looked him over. "Um… Call me on my cell if anything happens."
And then she left them, going to find Melissa in some waiting room.
"She's right, you know," Derek murmured. "Your fans are going to have aneurisms when they see. Sure you don't want to keep wearing the bandages?"
"I'm sure," Stiles said and ruffled Derek's hair like a kid's, earning a grunt of annoyance. "I've been ashamed of my wrist for five years because of the scars. But this? Finding my soul mate? I'm not ashamed of that. If the world explodes because of me finally feeling fixed, being better – I can live with it."
He leaned down then and planted a simple, single kiss on Derek's lips. "Okay then," Derek muttered. At that moment, Stiles could have asked for anything and Derek would have agreed.
Scandal was a bit strong. Not that the internet didn't explode the moment Stiles walked out on stage sans wristbands the following night, blank wrist plain to see. Photos went up so fast that it was hard to catch them all on Twitter or anywhere for that matter. It seemed to Derek that Stiles was purposely putting his wrist in easily viewable places, like waving his arm above his head to greet everyone and then holding it there while everyone lost their minds, or reaching down to high five the audiences with that hand, palm and wrist up for them to see, instead of using his left hand like he normally would have.
Not that Derek could really blame him. If there was going to be an explosion over this, might as well make it a flash fire and let it burn itself out, right?
Peter prowled the backstage area like a paranoid, rabid dog, muttering under his breath about risks and idiots and how Stiles was basically asking to be mobbed, and yeah maybe he had a point, but Derek knew the whole team was on point, and they were the best in the business, so mob or no mob, Stiles would be fine… barring homicidal SUVs. Then Stiles would still be fine, but Derek would probably have to go back to the hospital.
The halfway point in the concert came and Stiles bounced offstage, sweat making his clothes stick to him and his voice airy with exertion. Someone pulled his first set shirt off him and handed him a second one, which he pulled on as quickly as he could. Derek had been privy to this moment a few times, but not with Stiles standing three feet from him and staring at him as much as possible.
"Stiles, are you posing for the pictures on purpose?" Melissa asked, holding up her phone to an image on Twitter where his wrist was perfectly lit by the stage lights and captured with a really good camera. Derek couldn't decide if she was upset or not, but he didn't think she was dangerous, so he stayed seated.
"Kinda," Stiles said, and his voice was a note deeper than normal. When Stiles looked back at Derek, he smirked. "Might as well let the world know now before they start rumors about it first. Get ahead of the gossip for once."
He pushed a hand over his damp hair, but it just flopped back into place, and he laughed while Peter growled off to the side. The smile on Derek's face was caused by several things. Stiles and he had similar thoughts about why to spread the news quick. Stiles looked damn good, panting and grinning down at Derek, sweat already showing through his new shirt. Stiles was happy. He was honestly happy, and Derek had never seen him look so… free.
A new beat started on stage, Stiles' cue to head back out, and the stagehand offered him his new jacket. He pulled it on, flipping it up onto his shoulders, and usually he would immediately turn and hop back on stage, but this time he didn't. This time he stepped to Derek, bent down, grabbed his face, and kissed him hard. His hands were damp and hot and his hair left sweat on Derek's forehead, but that was good too.
Then, just as Melissa was opening her mouth to urge him on, Stiles pulled back and grabbed his mic from a different stagehand. When he ran back onto the stage, adrenaline obviously surging through him, the crowd roared with excitement and he cheered right back at them.
Maybe it was another sign toward Derek's mental state when it involved Stiles that he didn't notice his own sister had come to stand beside him. When she finally spoke up, halfway through the new song, Derek actually jumped in his seat, surprised.
"I guess it's really true then," she said.
"What is?" he asked, finally wiping his forehead on his sleeve to get rid of the sweat.
"You're soul mates. Not that I doubted you," she added quickly, holding up a hand slightly to stop any comments from him. She turned back to look at the stage and smiled warmly. "But he looks so happy. You look so happy too."
"Better than with Paige?" Derek asked and smashed the side of his fist into his mouth to try and wipe his smile away.
Laura's sisterly grin was full of words – like "You're an idiot" and "I love you" and "You're adorable" – but when she spoke, she just said, "Far better than Paige."
And for two songs, it seemed the world was finally balanced. Derek was happy. Stiles was happy. Tomorrow they'd have to start fielding questions about Stiles' wrist, and sure a mob was possible, but it was nothing the security team wasn't already prepared for. Peter was surly, but that wasn't unusual. And Derek had no idea where the four star crossed lovers were or how they were faring, but for just a moment he didn't care.
He was just enjoying the concert and watching the energy radiate off Stiles.
Obviously he should have expected trouble to pop up, but he still wasn't prepared when Jordan slowly but determinedly strutted over to the siblings. Keeping his voice even quieter than necessary, he greeted them and then stood very close to Derek. Uncomfortably close, actually.
"Everything alright?" Derek asked, glancing up at his favorite assistant head of security.
Jordan flicked his fingers out where they were resting by his side, and if Derek hadn't been so close he wouldn't have noticed why that was important, but he was, and he saw the crumpled plastic bag barely hiding behind Jordan's fingers. Discretely, he reached up and took it from the other man.
"What's this?" he asked. In the bag were three spent matches and a zippo lighter.
"I'm trying not to involve Peter, cause he doesn't really deserve to be part of taking Kate down after what we all know he did last time," Jordan answered quietly, but Laura was close enough and she took a step even closer when she saw how serious he looked. "I found these."
"I know. A month ago," Derek said, handing the bag back. Jordan quickly pushed it into his pocket.
"No. Five minutes ago," Jordan corrected, and Derek's whole face went hard. Jordan took a deep breath, looking between the two Hales. "She's here."
"Where did you find them?" Laura asked. Derek's chest felt too cold to make words. All he kept thinking what that Stiles was on stage, happy and carefree, and who was going to shove him to safety if a light fell or someone tried to shoot him or his microphone exploded again?
"By the stage door, just like last time. But we're hundreds of miles from there. And I still don't understand. Why a lighter and matches?" Jordan asked, his lips pressed slightly together as he tried not to appear too worried.
They were silent for a short moment, and then Laura nodded at her own thoughts. "Jordan, take three of our people and look for anything that could be used to start a fire. Start with the stage area and then spread out," she said.
"On it," and Jordan was already calling the attention of the nearest guards with hand motions instead of the radio.
Fire? Derek frowned. What if they didn't find anything in time? Was there anywhere she could be hiding that they wouldn't have seen? They had guards everywhere. How did she keep getting in?
"I'm going to help," Derek said, pushing himself to his feet, his crutches steady on the ground.
"No. You're not. Sit down. If Stiles looks this way and you're gone, what do you think he'll do? You'll shatter his concentration. Stay like a good soul mate. We'll figure this out," Laura ordered, pushing him gently back down.
And he knew she was right. Of course she was right. Stiles looked in his direction right at that moment, further proving how right she was. Derek smiled at him, pushing all worry from his face. If any still showed, Stiles was too blinded by the stage lights to notice, and he returned his gaze to the audience.
Laura stepped away to get a better view of the area beyond the stage, of the crowd, and Derek's brow knit tight together. How? How had Kate gotten in to loosen the light? How had she gotten on property to slash the tires without anyone seeing her? How had she gotten her hands on the microphone when it was packed away with Stiles' stuff? The only people who ever touched the mic besides Stiles were-
Derek frowned and shifted in his chair, his eyes scanning the crew backstage. Surely if she was here, Derek would have noticed her, right? He knew her face. So did Laura. So did Peter. There was no way she could have gotten passed all three of them tonight, right?
There was a brunette woman leaning against the wall, just a foot to the left of a hallway, her eyes on the stage. Her posture was powerful, prepared, and that's what got Derek's attention first. Her face was in shadow, blocked by the brim of her baseball style hat and her bangs, but her uniform, including the hat, were of the company Stiles used for his stage crew. But if she was crew, she'd be prepped to give the band a guitar. She'd be prepping water for Stiles for his last jump off stage between songs. She wouldn't just be lounging.
She noticed Derek's curious gaze, though, and even in the shadow of her hat, he could see her smile. Her hand came up in a tiny wave, her fingers wiggling in his direction, and then she pushed off the wall. A light caught her just right and Derek's heart turned to stone.
"Laura," he called, but not loud enough to be heard on stage.
The woman turned and walked calmly down the hall while Derek tried to stand up and walk after her at the same time he tried to put his crutches to use, and he stumbled on his first step. Laura's hands caught him and righted him.
"What? What's wrong?" she asked, glancing at the empty mouth of the hallway and back at her brother.
"Kate. She went down the hall. She's wearing a brown wig and crewman's uniform," Derek explained quickly.
Without hesitation, Laura smashed the button on her headset and alerted everyone. There were guards down that hall. Someone was bound to come across her. And now everyone knew what they were looking for. They could catch her. As soon as Laura's announcement finished, Peter was beside her.
"What?" he hissed in a whisper. "Kate Argent?" And Derek couldn't tell if he was angry or scared. Perhaps a bit of both. Two men nodded at the Hales and took off down the hallway.
"Yes, Uncle Peter. Kate Argent," Laura answered, voice clipped. They didn't have time for this. "Are you going to chase after her?"
"Oh please," Peter said with a tiny laugh. "If she's here and she let you see her, she's not sticking around. Why waste my energy chasing her when she's already gone? No, let the grunts do the work for once." Then his face went serious. "Do we know why she was here? What her plan was?"
"Fire," Derek said, deadpan. "Jordan took a group to do a sweep."
God, he wished he had a headset right now, to hear every little update, to know when and where Jordan or the others found anything. He was starting to feel like a bad luck charm. The worst thing to happen to Stiles while Derek was gone was the article. Before that, Stiles had had a very quiet month.
Laura covered her ear, blocking out the concert in order to hear an update, and Derek held his breath. He desperately wanted to run after Kate himself, but he had no speed as he was now. He was useless.
With a frown, Laura turned to him and said, "She took down two of our guards and made it out the side door. They lost her on the street when she hopped in a black corvette. The plates were covered. Damn it."
"We can deal with her later," Derek said, shifting his weight to better distribute it on his crutches.
"Derek's right, for once," Peter said, earning a glare from his nephew. "We need to worry about anything she left behind."
There was a pause while Peter and Laura heard more from their radios and then Laura sighed. "Well Jordan hasn't found anything. At least not backstage."
With a huff of aggravation, Peter turned and stalked several feet away before pacing back to them. "Wow, Peter," Derek said, eyebrows rising. "I didn't realize you would be so protective of Stiles."
"It's my job, Derek. Not all of us are only good at our jobs when they involve our soul mates," Peter sneered. "Do you know what'll happen to my reputation, to our reputation, if we let Kate get away with this? Keep letting her get away with it? We could lose the business."
"Like we lost the business eight years ago?" Derek asked with a growl and Peter stopped pacing. "Yeah. You were really good at your job then, weren't you? But of course you just remember all the ways you blamed it on other people. Not the person who actually died."
"Watch yourself, Derek," Peter spat. "Or you might find yourself on mail room duty until you're fifty."
"Well maybe you'll find yourself in prison until you're eighty," Derek snapped back. "For accidental manslaughter."
"Impertinent-!" Peter began, but Laura got between the two of them, cutting him off. Which was good, because that one word had already been a tag too loud.
Before either of them could complain, she held up one finger in each of their faces and cast them both a warning glare. "We. Don't. Have. Time. For. This," she enunciated slowly. "Fight later. Work now."
Right again. Peter wasn't worth risking Stiles. Just the thought of losing Stiles, especially so soon after learning they were soul mates, made Derek nauseated. It was like being sucked into a dark hole – cold and cramped and not enough oxygen.
"Wait," he said, catching his family's attention. Tapping his crutch on the ground, he frowned. "Is this stage hollow underneath?"
Laura went a little pale and walked quickly away, over to one of the stage crew that worked for the building, not the tour. They were too far away to hear, but the female worker was nodding, forehead knit together. Then she led Laura over to the area where Kate had been standing and pointed at the floor.
Bending down, Laura lifted the floor latch and stared down into the poorly lit area. Footsteps caught her attention and announced the return of Jordan, who she caught before he could pass her, and after a quick explanation the two descended into the floor.
It was the most stressful five minutes of Derek's life. Five minutes. Why would it take five minutes to give a report unless they'd found something… or unless someone found them. Even Peter was tense and silent beside him. Stiles' song, "If You're Gone", was actually one of Derek's favorites, but even that was just background static as he waited for Laura to come back up.
The song was almost over when Laura's head popped back into view and Derek let out a long and heavy breath. She climbed back to floor level and then turned to help Jordan carefully lift something out. It had an oddly shaped body and multiple wires, and at first Derek didn't recognize what it could be, but then Peter hissed next to him and for some reason that knocked the truth into Derek.
That was a tiny, homemade bomb.
"Is it live?" Peter asked when Derek and he had crossed the area between them and the other two. The stage hands were giving them a wide berth and someone had run off to find Melissa while another called the cops.
"Still volatile but not dangerous as long as we're careful," Laura explained and handed it to the nearest guard, instructing them to take it out back and guard it there. "See, Uncle Peter, if you knew anything about your employees they might actually like you. Mr. Parrish here might not bomb squad, but he did do the training. He disarmed it, but it's still potentially dangerous."
"Was there a candle on top?" Derek asked, watching the guard turn stiffly around the hallway corner.
"Yeah. There was some kind of string around it near the top. I guess it was Kate's low cost way of building in a timer so she could get away before it went off. That or she's just weird and dramatic," Jordan said, wiping his hands on his sleeves. "It's virtually harmless right now. The bomb squad can dispose of it properly, but I neutralized the immediate threat of explosion."
Relief hit Derek hard and he moved both crutches to one hand so he could pull Jordan into a one armed hug. The slightly younger male laughed and pat his back in response.
"Thank you," Derek said. They were safe. For today, at least, they were safe.
Preview Chapter 13:
Now that his hormones have settled, Derek can focus on some new facts: that Scott's relationship issues are far more complicated than his own, that he's a better security guard than his uncle, and that his hormones and relationship issues over the past month may actually be the key to finding and stopping Kate Argent for good – but is it already too late?
