"You're not coming. It's not a discussion," Derek said.
All the equipment was ready. Derek had checked it several times, but he checked it again. Something felt off, and he knew that the exchange wasn't going to go well.
"They took my son. They killed my husband. The only way you're going to leave me behind is if you break both my legs," Claudia said.
Her knuckles were white on the grip of her husband's shotgun. He couldn't imagine a single person raising a complaint in her bakery without quickly finding they'd made a mistake, and that everything was fine after all. Stiles was going to be in good hands if something happened to him. Not that he had a right to think about Stiles's future, it was just that he deserved a chance at something now that he was away from the Argents.
"Your son needs you, Claudia. You can't put yourself in harms way. You think he could handle losing you after just having gotten you back?"
"I know he needs me, that's why I'm going with the two of you."
Derek shook his head. Stiles coming with them was even less of a question than Claudia. It absolutely was not going to happen. Derek needed Stiles to be safe, couldn't afford to worry about him while he was trying to save his sister.
"Stiles isn't going either."
Claudia laughed right in his face. Derek tried to interject but she just kept laughing. He tried scowling at her, but it just sent her even harder into fits.
"You think Stiles is going to let you leave him behind," Claudia managed to get out between bouts of laughter. "I know you boys just met but tell me you aren't that dumb." She reached out, patted his cheek fondly. "You're too pretty be that dumb."
Derek exhaled heavily through his nose, tried to wrap his dignity around him like a protective cloak. He was intimidating damnit. People didn't laugh at him, especially bakery owners. Even if they were bakery owners holding shotguns.
Stiles came around the corner, holding a cheeseburger in each hand. There were bites missing out of both. He just walked right up to them and stood next to Derek. Too close, well inside acceptable personal space, so much so that every time he took a bite of the burger in his left hand his arm brushed up against Derek's. Claudia just lifted an eyebrow at him as if her point had been proven.
"You're not coming, Claudia," Derek said.
Stiles nodded his agreement, but after his mother leveled the type of stare that sent boys who'd misbehaved running to the bedrooms in fear at him, he immediately looked at Derek and shook his head in disagreement. It looked like he had trouble swallowing the food in his mouth, so his cheeks were puffed out sort of like a chipmunk's. That didn't stop him from trying to take a bite of the burger in his right hand.
"We're both coming," Claudia said, gaze flicking between Derek and Stiles.
Derek looked at Stiles, but the werewolf just tried to shove both hamburgers into his mouth at the same time and looked at the floor. Derek sighed, trying to ignore the icy fear creeping through his stomach. He did not want to put either of them at risk, but he also wasn't in a position to try and control their lives.
"I want to save my sister," Derek said, not sure if he was apologizing or trying to explain.
Stiles stuffed the rest of one of the burgers into his mouth then reached over and grabbed one of Derek's hands, gripping it tightly. That would have been cute except that he had ketchup or something on his hand, so it was sort of weird. Stiles didn't seem to notice or care though.
"You'll have a better chance of doing that if you have someone watching your back, letting you keep your focus where it needs to be."
"I can't ask you to do that," Derek said, even though he tightened his grip around Stiles's messy hand.
"What you can't do honey…" Claudia paused to pat his cheek again, "is stop us from doing it. You think I'm going to let them take away someone my boy loves?"
"That's why you need to—"
"I'm not talking about me, stupid." Claudia turned to walk away without giving him the chance to respond.
Derek gaped at her as she retreated. He turned to look at Stiles, but the werewolf's face was unreadable. There was mustard on his cheek. Derek wiped it away with his thumb, then stuck his thumb in his mouth. Stiles's eyes lit up with golden light, freezing Derek in place. Most of the werewolves he'd seen had eyes that glowed a chilling blue. It was nothing like the warm amber of Stiles's. He leaned forward, closing his eyes and—
"Preparations are complete." Dr. Deaton's clipped tone made Derek's heart jump in surprise. "We should be leaving soon."
Derek tried to step back, but Stiles didn't let go of his hand. Since Stiles was significantly stronger than him all he managed to do was lose his balance. He'd have fallen, but Stiles reached out to catch and steady him. It was a reminder that the werewolf wasn't nearly as fragile as Derek imagined him.
"Yeah," Derek said, coughing to clear his throat.
Stiles leaned in, dipping his head and placing his ear against Derek's chest again like he was checking his heart or lungs. Dr. Deaton raised an eyebrow at the two of them, but there was nothing Derek could do so he just shrugged.
"I see," Deaton said. "The McCalls are finishing loading their truck. Mrs. Stilinski seemed to be taking things to your van. I assume that means she'll be joining us."
"Yes," Derek said at the same time Stiles nodded his head.
"Is that wise?"
"Do you want to tell her she can't come?"
Dr. Deaton didn't answer. He just regarded Derek coolly. Stiles started growling, a low animal noise in the back of his throat. The doctor tilted his head at the werewolf, then withdrew without a word.
"What was that about?" Derek wasn't really expecting an answer. Stiles still didn't talk very often. Unless it was to comment on Derek's hygiene apparently.
"Don't trust him," Stiles said. "He sounds strange."
"What's that supposed to mean? My family has known him a long time. I'll admit that he's definitely weirder than I remember, and that mask he carries with him creeps me out."
Stiles didn't answer, he just tilted his head to look up at Derek, eyes serious and grip on Derek's hand tightening. He didn't know what to make of that, and he didn't have time to start second guessing the plan. They needed to get moving.
"Can I convince you not to come, to stay here with your mother where it's safe."
Stiles laughed in his face the same way his mother had. Derek exhaled forcefully through his nose again. He had thought he'd wanted to hear Stiles laugh more, but not at him.
Scott came into the room, skidded to a stop and immediately slapped his hand to his forehead. "Shit, sorry guys. I'm not sure if it's that I have bad timing or you guys are just always doing your boyfriend thing."
"We're not bo—"
"Five minutes, my dudes, that's probably all I can stall everyone for," Scott said, turning on his heel and starting to walk away like he hadn't even heard.
"We're not—"
Scott didn't stick around to listen. "Five minutes," he called over his shoulder. "Just kiss him already, he wants you to."
Derek looked at Stiles. Stiles tilted his head and looked at Derek, and it made Derek's heart start beating faster. Stiles moved forward, and Derek thought he was going to put his head against his chest but instead he reached to grab Derek's neck and pulled him down into a kiss.
The first thing Derek noticed was that Stiles still had a hamburger in the hand he'd put on his neck, which was… well frankly it was kind of gross. But the second thing he noticed was that he didn't give a shit because he was being kissed. Stiles pulled away right when Derek's brain kicked into gear and started to kiss him back. His heart was hammering in his chest so hard he thought he might actually have a medical condition after all.
"He was right," Stiles said. Then a goofy grin spread across his face, and before Derek could say anything Stiles turned and walked away, shoving the remains of the hamburger he'd crushed against Derek's neck into his mouth.
Derek stood alone in the room, ketchup or something on his hand, and he was pretty sure a pickle sliding down the back of his shirt, and he just didn't really know how to process any of what had just happened.