Word: Poltergeist

...

Stiles is not freaking out, he just has a ... healthy concern for the knocking noises he can hear. It's not of the werewolf variety, Derek and Scott have heavier builds and tend to make noise even when they're trying to be quiet. It's not Kira because she likes to play the Sailor Moon theme song, Lydia makes her presence known, Malia doesn't even bother with knocking, and Liam ... well, Liam never really comes over, and if he doesn't, then neither does Mason. It's not even Halloween yet, so there's no trick-or-treaters out and about. Stiles grabs his baseball bat from beside his door and heads out onto the landing.

Derek's decided to get away the temptation that is five bags of Snickers, Mars, and Reeses, and has gone for a run until he can't feel his tastebuds anymore. He's just rounding on the Stilinski's street, grinning at the sight of skeletons littering the yards and pumpkins on porches, when he hears a scream. It's Stiles, and he tears down the street, fangs and claws out as he jumps up onto the porch and almost tears the door off the hinges. He has no idea what to expect, but Stiles surrounded by a bunch of floating photo frames and mantelpiece ornaments sure as heck wasn't it.

"Derek! Thank fuck. Turn on your wolf vision and tell me what the fuck it is!"

Derek blinks, but nods quickly and does as Stiles commands. His eyes filter to blue and he frowns slightly at the hazy outline, right before it disappears completely, everything dropping to the ground in a crash. Stiles lets out a cry and dives to catch one of the photo frames, cradling it against his chest as everything else smashes into pieces around him.

"Are you okay?" Derek asks with a wince, moving over to him and ignoring the crunch of glass under his shoes.

"What do you think?" Stiles snaps, standing and brushing off the glass. "So, what does it look like?" he asks, anger washing off him as he places the saved photo frame back on the mantlepiece.

Derek's not surprised to see that it's a photo of Stiles with both of his parents, feels his heart ache in response, and turns back to Stiles. "I'm honestly not sure what it looked like. It wasn't solid, and I don't think I've ever seen anything like it before."

"Fine, was there a scent? Is it alive, dead? If it's not dead, it will be soon," Stiles adds with a snarl.

"It was too quick, Stiles. I didn't get anything past your emotions."

Stiles is silent for a moment, and it's a worrying moment for Derek; he doesn't know what to do with a silent Stiles.

"Fine. You can stay with me until the damn thing comes back, then you can identify it."

Derek wants to argue because he had plans involving several bags of chocolate, but Stiles' jaw is set and Derek can sense a hint of fear beneath his stern demeanour, so he just nods.

"Fine. What Halloween chocolate do you have?" Derek asks, heading towards the kitchen.

"Chocolate for Halloween, not you," Stiles replies quickly, grabbing the back of Derek's shirt and futilely trying to hold him back.

Derek rolls his eyes, jerks his shoulders forward so Stiles is thrown forward against his back, then lifts him in a swift motion and continues into the kitchen. It doesn't take Derek long to convince Stiles to break open the Reeses, and they're munching through their fourth peanut butter cup when the noises start up again. Stiles pauses mid-chew, eyes wide as he looks over to the knife block that's hovering in mid-air.

Derek shifts as he swallows his mouthful, and then lets out a low snarl (it's hard to snarl effectively with a mouth full of peanut butter). He can see the hazy outline of something again, and then the knives start to float out of the knife block. Stiles makes a whimpering noise and drops behind the kitchen counter to hide.

"It's definitely dead," Derek mutters at the sour scent he can smell.

"Great. Head to the light, you knife-waving dick!"

The ghost-thing moves up towards the light fittings.

"Uh, it moved up to the kitchen light?"

"Even better, I've got a sarcastic, knife-wielding ghost."

"I think it's a poltergeist," Derek says when the thing's outline bristles like it's indignant at being called a ghost.

"I don't give a fuck if it's fucking Casper, I don't want it in my house!" Stiles calls over the top of the kitchen counter.

The poltergeist moves away from the light abruptly, all of the knives floating out of the holder and flying directly at Derek. He dives out of the way, a moment too late, and one of the knives embeds itself into his arm. He lets out a howl of pain, one that's probably loud enough to bring Scott running, and tears the knife out, watching as his skin knits back together. Derek growls and turns to the poltergeist, which immediately disappears, the knife holder dropping to the counter with a clatter. All of the knives are embedded into the wall, bar the one Derek has in his hands, and Stiles stands up on trembling legs.

"Looks like it made an outline of you," Stiles says, nodding to the knives.

If Derek had stayed still, it looks like the poltergeist would have pinned him rather than stabbed him, but it still isn't the most comforting thought in the world.

"You're not bleeding, are you?" Stiles asks warily.

"Not anymore," Derek promises, dropping the bloody knife in the sink.

"Good. Now let's get the fuck out of here before it tries to kill both of us," Stiles mutters, grabbing Derek's hand and leading him outside.

Derek doesn't protest as Stiles guides him over to the Jeep, but sees the crowbar in Stiles' backseat and goes still.

"Iron."

"What?" Stiles asks distractedly over his shoulder, trying to fish his keys out of his pocket.

"Iron; that's supposed to get rid of ghosts and poltergeists."

"Have you been watching Supernatural again?" Stiles asks, frowning.

"No, I've been reading the bestiary," Derek replies, raising his eyebrow at Stiles pointedly because Stiles was the one that started him on Supernatural, for goodness sakes!

"All right then," Stiles says with a nod, finally opening the door.

He scrambles inside, grabs his crowbar, and gets back out in a matter of seconds.

"You tell me where it is, and I'll swing," Stiles says, shouldering the crowbar as he heads back into the house.

"Uh, wouldn't it just be easier for me to swing at it?" Derek points out.

"Maybe, but I've been trying to get rid of Dad's it's not a bald spot, it's a solar panel for a sex machine mug for years. It was a shitty present that Deputy Haigh got for him, and Dad's too nice to let me throw it out. He won't be able to fish it out of the bin when it's in pieces," Stiles mutters.

"Well, then. Lead the way," Derek says, indicating towards the house.

They can hear the poltergeist knocking and rattling the cupboards in the kitchen, and Stiles smirks as he heads inside with Derek following close behind.

...

"I don't want to know what happened, do I?" the Sheriff calls, sighing heavily when he sees the dent on the toaster, and the remains of several ceramic mugs in the bin.

He looks into the lounge room where Stiles and Derek are watching Star Wars, and sitting a little closer than he would have expected of them.

"No," Stiles and Derek chorus immediately.

He shakes his head and heads out to buy burgers for dinner. The Sheriff thinks he'll need the protein before he demands answers.

...

End of word challenge.

Thanks for reading!