"Were you out there the whole night?" Stiles asked not really surprised that Peter had been to the Nemeton. Where else would he go in this town?
"Mostly." Peter nodded over the rim of his cup of coffee. "You're right, this one is way more friendly than ours."
"Do you think it'll help us?"
"As you said, it's neutral." Peter shrugged.
Even with prodding and probing Stiles didn't get a real answer out of Peter. Not even how it had felt like being close to the tree, touching it. Stiles had the suspicion that Peter had lost some time as well but of course, he wouldn't confirm it, that bastard never gave up information easily.
However, once Peter had finished his breakfast, he excused himself to the bathroom.
"You don't need to wait for me." He basically kicked them out of the room. "Check out that museum, I'll catch up with you later."
Like Edith had said, the old librarian was running the museum in the attic of the library. At least both points of interest were in the same building, walking around on crutches was still no fun and Stiles' shoulders reminded him constantly of that fact. He really should look into moving the healing process along. But that would cost a lot of his energy which he needed for Derek. So he just had to deal with the crutches.
Of course, there was no elevator up into the attic so Stiles had to deal with the stairs as well. It wasn't too bad but the way Derek was looking at him, the werewolf must sense how much this was getting to him.
Betty, the old librarian who couldn't quite leave her job behind despite the fact that she was clearly over eighty, was delighted to see new faces in her little museum.
"We don't get many visitors around here," she said, patting Derek on the arm from where she was using him as a crutch. Not that she had needed a crutch two minutes ago when they had entered her little realm. Stiles just rolled his eyes but went with it. If she was flirting with Derek, let her. She was sweet in an old lady kind of way and Derek didn't seem upset with the soft look she was giving him.
Five more minutes later they were all sitting around a small table with cups of tea in their hands. Betty had insisted. There were cookies.
"So, what can you tell us about this place?" Stiles asked around a mouth full of cookie. He was still full from breakfast not even an hour ago but cookies …
Over the next two hours, Betty told them all about the town and the area around it. How it had been founded, the times of war and peace, the struggles and the good old times. Stiles had always liked this little pieces of history better than the big picture they had taught them in school. The big politics didn't affect small places like this, not really. What mattered were the small stories, the personal stories, and Betty knew them all. And she was more than willing to share her memories.
When Stiles nudged her into the more mystical stories, the lore around here and what kind of tales people were telling, she hesitated for a moment, that was not the topic she was usually talking about with visitors but when Stiles told her that he had always been interested in the things nobody could quite explain, she gave him a warm smile and started to talk.
There were stories about the tree, of course there were. Stories about people getting lost in the woods who lost time but found their way back safely. Others didn't come back. Some were found dead later, sometimes years later, some stayed lost forever. And it all centered around the tree.
"It's not an evil tree," Betty said. "I think it's just there. Some swear it has granted them wishes, others had prophetic dreams when they slept under it. I think that's nonsense." She busied her hands with pouring fresh tea into their cups.
"You don't believe in a magic tree?" Stiles asked with a smile.
"Oh, it is magic, that's for sure." Betty ran her hands over her skirt before she offered them more cookies. "But I doubt it cares about our little hopes and wishes. I don't know what it is but the woods out there are peaceful and I think it's because of the tree."
"You said some people vanished that doesn't sound peaceful to me," Stiles reminded her but he was with her. What he had felt from the Nemeton was peaceful, the tree didn't mean any harm. Or anything for that matter. As Betty said, it was just there.
"Some might have died peacefully," Betty said with a wink. "Anyway, some say it has effects on the people around here. On animals as well."
"You mean Old Pete," Derek spoke up. He had been quietly listening and had left the talking to Stiles but now he was looking at Betty with interest. "Theo and Bobby are trying to catch him today."
"Doubt they'll see him." Betty huffed. "Those two can't sit still for two minutes, jabbering old men, that's what they are. Scaring away the fish with their bickering all day."
"Edith has invited us for dinner," Stiles threw in, the image of the two old men in a boat, nagging at each other like an old married couple, clear in his head. "She promised us fish."
"Maybe they're lucky." Betty didn't seem convinced. "But I wouldn't count on it. But don't worry, knowing Edith, she won't let you go hungry."
She had a point there.
She also had some pointers to books about the town and which ones mentioned the folklore and fairy tales from this area. It wouldn't be as in-depth as what Betty had told them but it might fill some gaps.
With Derek right behind him, Stiles was browsing the shelves, fully aware that the woman officially running the library was watching them. Betty was still around somewhere, she had promised them a book she knew was somewhere in the back, but at the moment it was just them and the woman behind the counter. At this hour most people were home, having dinner, so the library was empty.
Finally, she came over to them.
"I hope Betty isn't bothering you too much," she said with a smile but made sure that Betty wasn't just around to the corner when she said it. "She gets ... enthusiastic when she finds somebody interested in the history of this town. Especially if they're outsiders."
"Don't worry, we are actually looking for the kind of stories she has to tell," Stiles assured her and then he roped her into telling him about how it was growing up here. She was over fifty herself so it had been different times back then and her parents used to scare her from wandering off too far with stories about some creature hiding under that one bridge over the creek or that there were things out in the woods that would grab her at night. Betty had held back on the darker stories like this, the ones people used to scare their kids which were almost never anywhere near the truth, just lazy parenting. However, Stiles soaked them up like everything else, who knew if there wasn't a grain of truth hidden somewhere in there.
They left the library with a short stack of books and an open invitation for tea from Betty. Susan, the other librarian, had hurried to assure them that they didn't have to show up, they must have other things on their mind, but it was Derek who said that he would love to come by some time.
"Was that okay?" Derek asked once they were back on the street. Since Stiles needed both hands for his crutches it was Derek who was carrying the books. "That I said we'd come by?"
"Of course it was okay." Stiles hurried to say. At the moment all they could do was to wait for people to call them back and doing some online research, that was Stiles' plan for the rest of the day. If nothing else came up, they had time for a little visit.
"I like her."
"You and the old ladies." Stiles bumped shoulders with him but then he had to fight gravity to stay upright. He won but barely. Judging by the look Derek was giving him, he found it rather funny.
"Shut up," Stiles muttered.
"Didn't say anything."
"But you were thinking, I can see it." Sometimes Stiles could read him like an open book. Other times he couldn't tell what was going on behind those eyes at all.
"If you say so." Derek started walking again and Stiles had to hurry to catch up with him.
"Anyway, Edith and now Betty, the old ladies love you," Stiles teased.
"I like Edith," Derek said and from this angle, it almost looked like he was blushing. "And Betty is nice too."
"You." Stiles shook his head, for once lost for words.
On their way back to the motel they came by Dough's Fish and Game and since they were here, why not go inside for a little chat? Stiles just turned to the door and it took Derek a few more steps to realize that Stiles had changed directions. But he fell in step behind him without questioning it.
"Well, look who we have here," Dough greeted them. Today the store was busier, he was just ringing up a customer, but he still had a warm greeting for the newcomers. "With you in a moment."
Stiles waved at him in a manner he hoped translated to "take your time" but what might look like he was threatening him with his crutch if he was honest. He hurried to duck into an aisle to get out of Dough's sight.
The store was all about hunting and fishing and currently, Stiles was facing a shelf full of bait. He didn't dare to look too closely what was right under his nose. His dad had taken him fishing once or twice when he had been little but Stiles could never sit still for longer than a few seconds so they had left it at those few attempts. They had bought fish on the way back and his mom had cooked it without commenting on the package it came in.
For a moment Stiles was lost in those memories. His mom had died a long time ago but moments like this still sneaked up on him. It didn't happen that often any longer but he never knew what would trigger a memory and the rarer they were, the harder they hit.
"Stiles, you okay?" Suddenly Derek was standing close to him, one hand on Stiles' which had the handle of the crutch in an iron grip.
"I'm fine." Stiles forced himself to let out a breathe and to uncramp his fingers. "Just a memory."
Derek nodded as if he understood. Which he couldn't. His memories were limited to a few days and so far nothing really bad had happened to him. The accident, of course, and maybe the in-betweens but Stiles didn't get the impression that those counted as bad for Derek.
"You should have gone with Theo and Bobby," Dough told them once he had time for them. The other customers were browsing and nobody needed help, at least not at the moment and maybe they just wanted to listen in on Dough and the outsiders, Stiles had no illusion that he and Derek and now Peter as well were the talk of the town. Especially since Peter had arrived.
"Fishing is not really my thing." Stiles made a face. The sitting still was one thing but once you had a fish you had to deal with that fish and that was really not Stiles' thing. He was fine with killing something that deserved killing but cutting open some poor fish … eww
He had no idea if it was Derek's thing, though, but a glance in his direction only told him that the werewolf was looking at the things on the shelf with interest but was crunching his nose over the smell. Werewolves preferred meat anyway. And they usually didn't bother with a rifle. Just ask Malia, she still loved to sink her teeth into a deer's neck.
However, Dough was more than willing to chat and with the new information they had gotten from Betty, Stiles had some new questions for Dough. He wasn't sure if the information was actually useful but Stiles left the store with the feeling of time well spent. Speaking of time, it was way after dinner and his stomach was grumbling.
"And no sight of Peter." He let out a sigh and checked his phone to find out what the werewolf was up to. At least Peter answered with the promise of sandwiches at his room.
The way back to the motel felt longer and by the time they reached the lot, Stiles' shoulders were burning. Edith was standing in the door to the office, looking expectantly at them but it was obvious that she wasn't waiting for them.
"What's going on?" Stiles made a detour to talk to her.
"Have you been by the garage?" She asked. "Have you seen Bobby and Theo there?"
"No, we haven't seen them," Derek answered before Stiles could. "Didn't they go fishing?"
"They wanted to be home hours ago."