I sat slouched over in my computer chair, dragging my feet back and forth on the ground, stuck in my thoughts. It had been a week since I told Derek I needed a break from him, one whole week without his presences in my life.
I found myself not only missing Derek but looking for him, expecting to see him stalking me at school, work or lurking outside my bedroom window. Much to my disappointment Derek kept true to his word and kept his distance from me. I was even tempted to call him a handful of times but stopped myself knowing the vicious cycle that was soon to follow.
"There you are." My father voiced from the doorway.
I turned around in my chair to face him. "Oh, hey dad, I didn't realized you were home."
He noticed my gloomy mood and the fact that I hadn't bothered to dress, still wearing my pajamas.
"Are you moping over someone son?" He asked leaning against the door frame in his white t-shirt and blue jeans.
"Forget it Dad, it's nothing. Did you need something?" I asked wanting desperately to change the subject.
"Well, I came up to tell you I was going to go fishing down by the creek. Hey, why don't you join me? It would be some good father and son bonding. We haven't had much time for it over the years." He said bringing my attention to the fishing box in his hand with his bait, extra string and bobbers.
"I don't know Dad, I'm not really in the mood for fishing." I confessed.
"Some fresh air will do you good, it's not healthy to stay cooped up in your room all day long. Besides, who else is going to tell me how rad I look in my fishing hat?" He said pulling out a cap, putting it on his head.
Against my best attempts not to laugh, I snickered at the sight in front of me. The hat was two sizes too big and aged my dad.
"Please never wear that EVER again. You look like that guy from On Golden Pond." I replied, cringing at the look.
"What? What's wrong with it?" My dad asked clueless.
"EVERTHING, it needs to be burned." I expressed, walking over and taking the cap off of his head myself, tossing it in the nearby trash.
"Stiles, I paid a lot for that designer fishing hat." My father voiced, walking over to take his hat out of the trash bin.
"Look, I'll make a deal with you, lose the hat and I'll go fishing with you." I said before I couldn't stop myself.
"Deal." My dad said giving my hand a shake.
"Okay, now give me ten minutes to change and I'll meet you downstairs." I replied as I started to shut my bedroom door to give me some privacy.
My dad's hand pushed on the back of the door stopping me from closing it all the way.
"By the way, there is nothing wrong with looking like that guy On Golden Pond, that movie is a classic." He stated.
I inhaled some fresh air, watching the view of the water and forest trees in the background as we drifted further down the creek. It was surprisingly calming. I hated to admit it but my dad was right, I was feeling better already.
I cast my line in the water and waited for a bite as my dad worked on putting more bait on his hook.
"They must be pretty special to have left such an impression on you." My father said out of the blue.
"Dad, I don't want to talk about it." I replied as I recast my line in a different location.
"I'm just saying you're usually so hyper and crazy. That Stiles I can handle. Well, for the most part but I don't understand this new, miserable Stiles."
"I'm… I'm not miserable." I voiced, finding myself deep in my thoughts yet again.
"Who are you trying to convince here Stiles, me or yourself? I know heartbreak when I see it. Face it son that is how you have been acting for the last week."
I sighed in defeat, resting my fishing pole on the side of the boat as I dug through the cooler grabbing a cold drink.
"I don't want to get into this with you dad. I thought you were trying to cheer me up." I retorted annoyed as I opened the tab on a can of cola, taking a gulp.
"This isn't about that Lydia girl is it? You're not still hung up on her, are you son?" He asked concerned.
I sighed in stress putting my drink down and going back to my seat, grabbing a hold of my pole again.
"No, dad, that boat has long sailed."
"Well good, I always felt that girl just toyed with your emotions and if it was going to happen it would have by now. So if it's not her, than whom?" He asked curious as he dropped his line in the water.
"Dad, trust me when I say you don't want to know." I said giving his shoulder a light pat.
I watched on edge as the inner cop in my father came into play. I could see the wheel turning in his head as he sat there silently next to me trying to put two and two together.
"Christ, does this have anything to do with that boy you and Scott are always hanging out with, that Derek guy?"
I remained silent which pretty much answered my father's question. I kept my eyes on my line in the water too afraid to look at my father and see his disappointment or possible anger.
"Oh, well uh, I'm sure many guys explore. I mean I never felt the urge…" My dad started.
"Oh my god, please, let's not talk about this." I said feeling freaked out by his openness.
I was expecting my father's disappointment and anger and even ready for it but having him try to rationalize my actions and feelings was too much for me to handle.
"Well, I'm here if you want to talk about it or anything else." He claimed.
"Okay, I got it." I said feeling embarrassed and completely uncomfortable being stuck on a boat with my dad in the middle of a creek with no escape.
Suddenly my line started to shake indicating I had a bite.
"I think I got something here." I said excitedly as I pulled back on the line.
"You got something son?" My dad asked eagerly, getting out an empty cooler for the potential fish to go in.
"Oh yeah, it's a big one." I announced as I started a game of tug of war with the line.
"Reel it in son, start reeling it in."
"Oh yeah." I voiced as I started turning the handle over and over, bringing my line closer and closer with each turn.
The anticipation was killing me; I couldn't wait to come face to face with the first fish I ever caught.
"Is it coming son?" My dad asked noticing I was struggling a bit.
"It a stubborn fish, he is not giving up without a fight." I stressed as I got up from my seat to get a better grip on my pole and tugged back.
"I'll help you son." My father said coming behind me and pulling on the line with me.
"Uh, come on you stupid fish." I vented as I pulled up on the line.
Suddenly the fish gave up the fight and with one finally yank, I fell back into the boat with what I assumed was a heavy fish.
I felt pressure on my chest from where the fish had landed on me. It was one heavy fish. I grinned and looked down to claim my prize when I was met with a decapitated head of a man.
"AHHH!" I screamed, staring into the ghostly eyes of what was left of a man.
"Stiles!" My dad shouted in alarm as he came to my side.
"Get it off of me!"
My dad worked quickly grabbing some rubber gloves and putting them on and used the empty cooler to house the head.
"AH! AH! AH!" I expressed freaked out, looking at the blood on my shirt.
"Stiles! Stiles get a hold of yourself!" My dad said as if it was an everyday event for him to find a detached head.
"Can we not go one day without dealing with monsters or finding a dead body?" I vented in the boat as my father called in the homicide on his radio.
I sat on a nearby bench with my father's jacket on my shoulders to keep me warm in the cool late afternoon temperature. I observed the cop cars as they rushed over with their sirens and flashing blue and red lights coming to the scene.
My dad was off on the side giving his report of what happened to a fellow cop taking notes. Other cops where on the boat taking pictures of the evidence and bagging the head. There was also a diver in the water searching for the mysterious man's remains.
I shivered wrapping my father's jacket tighter around me. I couldn't get the head out of my mind. I looked up to find Scott coming over to my side with a worried look on his face.
"Stiles, are you okay?" He asked seeing my dazed expression.
"I'm going to be scarred for life." I voiced as I got up from my spot.
"Did they figure out who the body belongs to?" Scott asked eyeing the scene around us.
"Head."
"What?" Scott asked looking confused.
"It's was a head Scott, not a body, just a head." I announced just as the crime scene unit passed by us with the bagged head.
"Oh god, are those guts?" I asked pointing to something in the bag feeling my stomach coming up in my throat.
I leaned against a nearby tree and began to puke.
"Uh Stiles, warn a person when you're gonna do that." Scott said cringing and waving a hand in front of his face trying to air the smell of vomit away.
"Oh I'm sorry Scott, does it bug you to see vomit? Guess what? I had a freaking dead guy's head on me! His guts are still on my damn shirt! I said opening my jacket up showing Scott my blood stained shirt.
I nearly vomited again looking at it. My mouth filled up with air and I began to jerk, feeling that gagging sensation again.
Scott forced me to look at him and grabbed my shoulders.
"Stiles breathe." He said shaking my shoulders, trying to snap my out of it.
I let out a deep breath right on him, giving him a good whiff of my vomit breath.
"I didn't mean on me." He said cringing.
Scott handed me a water bottle that he managed to get from one of the many cops working the scene. We started to walk back to the car as I took a sip of water, soothing my throat.
"I'll talk to Derek. Maybe he knows something about this mysterious man or the murder scene." Scott said as we reached his car.
"Why do you have to ask him? We can figure this out Scott. Come on, you and me on the case just like old times. I said trying hard to sound convincing as I playfully hit his shoulder.
"Stiles…" Scott started with an uneasy look on his face.
"You already called him, didn't you?"
"Yup." Scott announced.
As if on cue, Derek's black corvette pulled up in the parking lot a few spot away from us. I tensed up in my spot feeling uncomfortable as Derek exited his car and began to walk over in his blue jean, dark blue shirt.
It had only been a week since I had last seen Derek but it felt like months. I gulped nervously as he reached us. His eyes glanced in my direction for a moment but were quick to move to Scott giving him his full attention.
"What do we know?" Derek asked.
Hearing his voice gave me chills. I shook a little bit in my spot. He seem to notice my body language as his eyes did a little side glance only to return back to Scott waiting for his response.
"Uh, not much. I talked to Stiles dad, the guy is another John Doe. There is no real information on him and there won't be till the other half of his body is found. The only thing we know is he is a middle aged man and his head was completely detached from the rest of his body.
It doesn't look like it was done with a knife or anything clean cut but it's a little too early to say the supernatural had something to do with his death. We are working on finding out more. Maybe we can have Deaton analyze the head and see if he finds anything abnormal?" Scott said glancing back at the clueless cops in the far end of the parking lot."
"It sounds like a plan. I'll see if Peter heard anything as well in the meantime." Derek replied.
"Stiles!" My father called out, grabbing all of our attention as he walked over to where we were standing.
"Stiles, I have to stay here and wrap this up. Even on my day off I still have to work." My father voiced somewhat annoyed as he looked back at his coworkers working the scene.
He turned back to us noticing Derek was there.
"Derek." He greeted in his authority voice.
"Chief." Derek greeted back, with a blank look on his face, hiding any emotions he might have been feeling.
"Scott, can you take Stiles home for me?" My father asked.
Part of me wanted and hoped Derek would interrupt and offer to take me home himself. That Derek would show some sign he missed me too.
I glanced over at Derek who was looking elsewhere, his mind clearly elsewhere.
"Sure, no problem." Scott replied, easing my dad's worry.
My dad headed back to the scene leaving us alone once again.
"Well, I'll get the car running; meet me when you're ready." Scott voiced, leaving me and Derek standing their awkwardly.
I didn't even dare look at Derek; I just stared down at my shoes, not sure if I should say anything or if he would even say anything. I waited a moment, thinking he would soon walk away. When I didn't heard the sound of footsteps, I looked up.
Derek's eyes met mine for a moment and he let out a sigh before pulling his shirt up over his head and took it off. I looked at him perplexed as he balled up the shirt in his hand and reached his arm out to me.
"Here." He said holding the shirt out to me.
"I don't understand." I said taking the shirt from his hold.
"I don't need it, you do." He said gesturing to my stain t-shirt before turning around and heading back to his car, shirtless.
My heart melted. I could feel a smile spread to my lips as I took off my dirty shirt in the parking lot and put on Derek's shirt.
I entered Scott's car with a small smile on my lips.
"What's up?" Scott asked noticing my sudden mood change.
"He cares."
