Third one! It's a bit shorter than usual, but I think I'll have the fourth up within the next few hours. Remember to review/like etc. Thanks x
Chapter Three
The next night, Tuesday, came surprisingly quickly for Stiles, despite the fact that she was dreading it with every inch of her being. She decided not to tell Scott or the others, she didn't want to worry them as much as she was, and if Derek wanted them involved, he would have told them. She went by Derek's loft at eight o'clock sharp. He was already waiting for her out the front of the building, and climbed into her Jeep without a word.
"So where we going?" she asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Gas station at the edge of town, near your house," he said.
Stiles swallowed the lump that grew in her throat, but didn't say anything. She obeyed his instructions and drove to the gas station that she had passed through a couple of days ago after returning from Lydia's party, the one with the smashed window.
As they neared it, Derek spoke, "Park about a hundred metres away."
She pulled over to the side of the road with the gas station just insight, and switched off the engine. Derek didn't say anything, for a long time. He simply sat there staring at the station. Half an hour went by before Stiles grew agitated.
"What are we doing here?" she asked.
"Watching," he said.
"Yeah I got that, but what are we watching?" she pushed.
"The gas station."
"Why?"
Derek turned to face her and let out an exasperated breath.
"Because a few nights ago two men rattled the place up," he said. "I think they were werewolves."
"Wolves? Like Scott and Liam?"
"Yes. Maybe Omegas."
"Okay. But why are we here? And why me?" she questioned.
"I want to see if they come back, and if they do, you're going to go in and suss them out," he tells her.
"What?! You can't be serious!"
"I can't do it, and neither can Scott or the others, they'll be able to tell that they're supernatural, it'll be dangerous for them. But you, you're just another human to them," he explains. Stiles frowned, but she knew he was right.
"So we're just going to sit here all night and hope they show up?" she asked.
"Yes."
"Can I put some music on?"
"No, it'll interfere with my hearing."
She groaned and put her feet up on the dash. Thank god she had thought to put her PSP in her bag. She pulled it out, muted the volume, and started playing, trying her best to block out Derek's negativity and the anxious thoughts running through her head.
Stiles wasn't aware she had fallen asleep until she heard the beep of her car horn. Startled, she jerked in her seat and sat upright, eyes wide and ready for anything. Outside the sun was just coming up and there was a cool pink glow in the sky. She looked beside her to see Derek still there, his hand resting on the car horn. Her watch told her it was five in the morning.
"When did I fall asleep?" she asked, rubbing her sleepy eyes.
"Around midnight," Derek told her.
"I'm guessing you didn't see anything?"
"Nope," he said quietly. Stiles could hear the frustration in his voice.
"Oh well, at least that means no trouble for us. Can we go now?"
"Yes."
Stiles started the Jeep and took Derek home. She wondered whether he had slept at all last night, probably not. She tried to imagine him sleeping, his brow unfurrowed and peaceful, but she just couldn't picture it. When was Derek Hale ever at rest? She pulled up outside of Derek's building.
"Same time, tonight," he said, climbing out of the car.
"What? We're doing this again?" she asked desperately.
"Yes, Stiles," he growled. "We'll have to do it for about a week, just to make sure."
Stiles purposefully let out a strangled groan and put her head on the steering wheel. Once Derek had left, she went home, and into her bed. She wanted to cry, to scream. This was not how she imagined spending her Spring Break. She hoped that all this would amount to nothing, that the other werewolves were simply passing through and wouldn't return. The best-case scenario in this was that Stiles would have to spend every night for the next week or so sleeping in her car, next to Derek Hale.
Derek Hale. She hissed the name in her head. Derek-freakin-Hale. He wasn't a bad person. He'd done bad things, but he'd definitely reformed himself over time. It hadn't changed anything between them though, he was still frustrating and she was still irritable. They weren't a good combination. Everyone else in her life had accepted her for who she was: a goofy, skinny, hyperactive, mischief-maker, but not Derek. He didn't understand her. She put up walls of sarcasm and humour and quirkiness to hide the fact that she was a fragile person on the inside. Her friends, her father, they knew. If Stiles didn't laugh about a situation, she would cry, and she wouldn't have that.
Maybe she could use this opportunity to show Derek that she was not just a silly teenage girl, that he should take her seriously.