I had finished scrubbing and packed up the cleaning supplies.
I plopped down at my computer, the idea still fresh in my mind. After a few minutes of haggling the internet I found Deaton's email and quickly sent him a few simple questions. The idea was simple, but rather complicated to accomplish. With Deaton's help, I would find clothes and articles to hide my identity as I perform a series of propaganda. It sounded almost heroic, but in reality I wasn't going to do this peacefully.
Deaton replied immediately, stressing that this was far important than anything he was currently doing. He had decided to put this on his priority list which meant he would get everything to me by the next night.
With that off my mind and the kitchen clear I was finally able to return back to Derek.
He was still asleep, but he didn't look as peaceful as he had before. He was on his side, his hand curled into the pillow that laid beneath his head. His breath seemed to come unevenly, a short exhale before a rough shaky inhale. His brow was curled, his face pulled up in a wince.
I felt drawn to him, as if my presence would solve all of his problems. I knew it wouldn't, but I still felt responsible. So I walked closer to the bed and crawled in next to him. I pried his hand off the pillow and laced my fingers with his.
He inhaled a deep breath before his body finally relaxed, his face becoming slack and his muscles releasing.
I laid there for a while, just watching the way Derek's chest rose and fell with each breath. He was finally calm and relaxed and I think that reassurance was what allowed me to close my eyes and fall asleep.
That next morning I woke up before Derek and slugged my way into the kitchen to fix him some coffee.
When he joined me in the kitchen he didn't say a word, but he came up behind me and wrapped his thick arms around me.
These moments were what I reveled in. These simple things that made everything seem to disappear as if it was nothing. These simple things that keep me pushing on because I knew that one day these simple things would be more important than the rest of this.
That day I was able to talk Derek into going and visiting Cora's grave.
It was late in the afternoon, the sun hanging loosely in the sky threatening to hide away for the night. The walk was slow, my hand entwined tightly into Derek's simply because I was afraid that if I let go he'd run away. I held him there as we walked, growing closer to the place I had told my father to place her.
When we grew closer I felt Derek pull away from me. He made his way over to a field of tulips. He crouched down, observing the way the flowers swayed and danced in the afternoon wind. One particular tulip seemed to be brighter than the rest, just one that seemed to sway with more passion. This was the one he picked, his fingers finding the base of the stem and plucking gently. He held it tight between his fingers as he made his way back to me.
Once he got close enough, I reached for his hand to continue the rest of the way.
My father did an amazing job, the whole scene was even better than I ever could imagined.
By the sparkling water, that me and Derek had once swam in so long ago, sat a large oak. It's limbs stretched out to the sky, full with evergreen leaves and sprinkled with white flowers. The sun broke through this thick canopy of leaves, creating rays that shined down on the forest floor. Beneath this tree, right in the ray of light, was a wooden cross stuck into the ground. The wood of the cross was decorated with various swirled that were engraved into it. In the center of the swirls there was two letters engraved in the wood, CH. Cora Hale.
On the corner of the cross there was a flower crown hanging from the wood. The crown was made from some type of root, that was completely covered in various leaves and white flowers. You couldn't see the dark wood of the roots simply because the colors of the the flowers seemed to shroud and cover it.
Derek released my hand and stepped forward, his movements slow and calculated. He suddenly dropped to the ground, his knees hitting the soft dirt. With a shaky hand, he reached forward and let his fingers graze over the wood.
I stepped forward and crouched down behind him. I pressed my forehead against his back and placed my hand on his shoulder. I could feel his breath hitch slightly before he attempted to speak.
"This...this is my fault," he whispered.
I rose my head, squeezing his shoulder as I spoke. "None of this is your fault. In fact I'm sure right now Cora's looking down at you from a better place saying how stupid you're being right now," I stated and nudged his back a little.
He let out a little huff, torn between laughter and a sigh. "I just can't stop seeing her like that...hanging from that banister." His voice sounded broken, lost.
I pressed my hand on his back, right where his tattoo was. "Remember the real Cora. The sweet girl who is as stubborn as you are. The Cora that hung pictures of wolves in her room."
Derek smiled, a little broken crooked smirk that was filled with mixed emotions. "When I was little, Cora would drag me out of the house on bad days and take me deep into the forest. She would try her hardest to make me laugh. First she would roll around in a field of flowers, crawling and diving until she found what she was looking for. As soon as she found the perfect daffodil she would plop down in front of me and blow the little fluffs right in my face."
I smiled, listening to this story made me realize that this was the first time Derek had willingly shared his family life with me.
"No matter how upset I was, she was always there to make me laugh."
I smiled and let my eyes trail to the cross that was in front of us. Right next to it, growing out of the ground was a tiny daffodil. I scooted out from behind Derek and carefully reached forward. I plucked the plant out of the ground and moved back towards Derek. I stopped just in front of him and held the daffodil carefully out to him.
He reached out, his hand overlapping mine. He stayed like that for a few seconds, his eyes trailing up to meet mine. The golden fleck in his eyes seemed to be swirling as his gaze returned to the daffodil. He carefully took it between his fingers and held it up to his face, as he examined the white fluffs.
"Now it's your turn to blow the little fluffs into the air."
Derek closed his eyes and inhaled a deep breath before he blew on the daffodil. The little white tuffs flew into the air, blowing and swirling with the wind.
I watched the tuffs float in front of my face, embracing this moment and all it had to offer.
We stayed there for a while, listening to the wind and the slow breathing of each other's calm breaths. I didn't feel compelled to fill the silence with words. I simply sat beside Derek offering comfort without saying a single syllable.
We returned home before the sun went down and I was instantly reminded that I had to go meet with Deaton. The problem was, I didn't want Derek sucked into this mess. So he couldn't know that I was becoming a sort of vigilante, but I didn't want to leave him alone. I didn't want to return to find him hanging from the banister. So I was able to talk my dad into coming over for dinner. Derek didn't seem to mind the company.
When my father assured me he was on his way I told Derek I had to pick up a few things. With Halloween a few days away it didn't seem very unlikely, with me having to pick up candy for the local kids. Which I did end up doing, but after that I made a pit stop at the vet's office.
I strolled through the doors, snorting at the closed sign as I made my way into Deaton's office.
Deaton was leaning back in his chair with a surprise guest standing next to him.
"Lydia? What the hell are you doing here?" I mumbled, observing the red heads mischievous smirk.
She flipped her hair in one movement and stepped closer to me. "Did you really think I'd allow Deaton to design your outfit? I mean sure he's good at functionality, but you have to look presentable as well," she chirped and patted me on the shoulder.
I turned my gaze toward Deaton and cocked my eyebrow at him.
He shrugged and stood up from his chair before he spoke. "Can you really blame me for giving in? Lydia tends to have a very manipulative tendency."
Lydia gasped, her hand rising to rest on her chest. "Me manipulative? I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about Doctor D," she stated and strode back over to the desk. She hopped up on top of it, her legs dangling off the side.
I shook my head, a smile playing on her lips. I wanted the least amount of people to know about this, but I can't say that I'm not relieved that Lydia's on my side. With her spunk in the side lines I could practically win any war.
"So on with the presenting," she chirped, her heels clicking against the wood of the desk.
Deaton turned and pulled a box out from under his desk. The first thing he pulled out was a hoodie, similar to my red one but jet black. Then he pulled out two gloves. They were thick, leather on the wrists that overlapped golden metal. The metal continued to the fingers, shaping out to sharp claws on each finger.
"The claws on this baby are sturdy enough to slice through skin and you'll still have full range of your fingers. The fabric under the metal will keep your fingers from leaving prints," he mumbled before he placed that back down on the desk. He then pulled out a mask, one so stunning that I lost my ability to breath for a second.
It was a wolf mask, made entirely out of silver metal. The material seemed to shine in the light, it's muzzle shaping down into a perfect slant. It's ears were sharp and it had a thick line of metal that ran between its nose and it's eyes. Thick screws held the metal to the rest of the mask. The eyes were slanted, two black holes that seemed to be shaped exactly like that of a wolves.
"Wow...It's gorgeous," I mumbled and stepped forward. I took the mask and held it in my hands. The metal was cool, but the eyes seemed to be burning into me. Reminding me of why exactly I was doing this. I looked back up at Deaton.
"Make us proud Stiles."
I nodded, my eyes trailing down to the mask before I glanced over at Lydia.
She had a smirk plastered on her face, her arms crossed intensely. "Kick some ass Stilinski."
I smiled. "I will," I stated looking between the two of them. Yes, I would make them proud in a weird law breaking kind of way. And hell yes I would kick some ass. I would tear down the laws that define not only Derek, but Scott and Cora as well. I would force people to realize that Derek deserves a chance. A chance that Cora didn't have.