A/N: Warning, this chapter contains mention of Derek's past relationship with Kate, and the long-term effects on his psyche.
TWO
The first body appeared a week after the accident. Stiles was sat in the front seat of his dad's patrol car because his jeep was totaled, and he doesn't have any friends to car pool with. Well there was Derek, but his dad was back to being suspicious of him again, seeing as he'd miraculously been in the area when Stiles' jeep was rammed off the side of the road by a damn deer.
There hadn't been any more freak animal suicides and Stiles had allowed himself to believe it was just that, a freak incident. That was of course, until they'd arrived at the school grounds to find a body in the lacrosse field, tied to the goal, a pool of blood staining the grass.
It wasn't Stiles first dead body, even before he'd started hanging out with werewolves, but it was the first time he'd known the victim personally.
Heather had been the first friend he'd made back in nursery school. They'd been inseparable throughout kindergarten, but then middle school had hit, and they'd met knew people, made knew friends. They'd stayed in touch. The occasional facebook message. Bumping into each other at the mall and then going for pizza to catch up. The last he'd heard from her was an email three days ago inviting him to her 16th birthday party. Obviously, he'd declined the offer, who wanted to turn up at a party alone? Now Stiles suddenly wished more than anything that he'd gone.
"Stiles? - Stiles!"
He turned to find his dad staring at him, "Go to class."
"Heather."
"I know," His dad said sympathetically, squeezing his shoulder, "I'm sorry. You should head to class."
"I can't just leave."
"Yes, you can." His dad insisted, gently pushing him away. "Coach, get these kids out of here!"
"You heard the man you vultures, leave!" Coach Finstock yelled, waving his arms to shoo them away.
Stiles staggered away, eyes still fixed on the body.
"Stiles?"
He turned his head sharply to find Lydia and Jackson staring at him. Lydia looked pale as death and her eyes were rimmed with red. Jackson's arm was resting around her shoulders, comfortingly. "Lydia?"
"What's going on?"
Stiles frowned, looking back over his shoulder, "I'd think that's pretty obvious." he muttered, voice cracking. He looked back to find both Lydia and Jackson glaring at him like he was a simpleton.
"She means, what's doing this, dumbass?" Jackson clarified with a glare.
"What do you mean? How should I know?"
"Because you always know, Stiles?" Lydia pleaded, "I found her."
His eyes widened, "What?"
"She just…wandered off this morning the moment we pulled up." Jackson informed him quietly, "I followed her here."
"This is the second one in two days Stiles." Lydia yelled frantically, causing a group of fellow students to turn and stare.
"Second?"
"She found a guy at the pool over the weekend."
"The school pool?" Stiles frowned, looking between the pair. "What were you guys doing here on a Saturday?" he smirked, "Don't tell me you got detention for…."
"We weren't," Jackson sighed, growing frustrated with him. He looked at Lydia with an odd mix of sadness and… was that fear? "She got up in the middle of the night and just…"
"Walked here." Lydia finished weakly.
"In her underwear," Jackson muttered, swallowing thickly.
Once upon a time, the thought of Lydia Martin walking around in her underwear would have given him a humiliating bodily reaction that would have instantly resulted in Jackson Whitmore slamming his fist into his face. Right now, though, Stiles was too freaked out to lust after his life-long crush. "Oh."
"So?" Lydia pleaded, chest heaving.
"Hey, Balinski, Whitmore, get to class. You too red." Couch Finstock yelled, waving his hand insistently at them to keep walking.
With a sigh they all turned to head back to the school building, "The last time you wandered around like that was…" Stiles whispered, chest heaving with adrenaline.
"I know," Lydia whispered, "Derek's uncle."
"Peter." Stiles nodded, looking to Jackson, whose eyes flared blue for a second. Taking a deep breath, he looked back at Lydia, pausing her by the doors, "I'll find out what's going on. I promise."
Lydia gave him a shaky smile and pulled open the school door, slipping inside.
By the time they reached the lockers the bell was ringing, Stiles hurried along, switching out his bag for books and slamming the door closed, only to find himself face to face with Scott.
He hadn't spoken to his ex-best friend since he'd stormed out of Derek's house on the day of the accident. He hadn't even come by to see how he was. Though according to his dad, he had asked after him, but that wasn't exactly the same thing.
Scott's absence from his life had led to Stiles having to tell his dad about their fight and how they hadn't quiet made up yet. He'd made it sound a lot better than it actually was and had been sure not to bring up that Derek was the main cause of their friction, or that Scott had his suspicions about Stiles true nature. He didn't want his dad knowing anyone knew the truth until it was necessary.
Scott stared at him in silence, crooked jaw clenched tight, then he huffed out an angry breath and muttered, "I'm glad your alright." then he was marching away.
Stiles watched him go with a heavy weight in his chest, then moved to follow, discovering that in his absence, Scott had switched seats with Mark and was now sat near the back of class with Isaac.
_(*-*)_/
Slipping out of school at lunch, Stiles made a beeline for the hospital. Usually he'd ask his dad, but obviously the sheriff wasn't up to sharing information, having not told him about the other body Lydia had found.
Bursting through the double doors, he was grateful to find Melissa instantly. "Hey."
She turned to regard him, lips pulling in a smile, "Hey. How are you feeling? Do you have an appointment?"
Stiles shook his head, "No, this is a more…private matter." he whispered, "The supernatural kind."
Melissa's face fell instantly, "What's going on?"
"I need to see the bodies, the ones found at the school."
Melissa shook her head, "No way."
"It's important. It's a matter of life and death, literally. Please."
Taking a deep breath, she looked around and bit her lip. "Is Scott in danger?" she asked quietly.
"I…" he sighed, "I think this might have something to do with Erica and Boyd going missing, and if I'm right, then…it's possible they all are."
They were silent for a moment, as Stiles' meaning sank in and then Melissa grabbed his arm and led him away from the front desk, "You tell anyone I showed you this, I swear to God, I will kill you painfully and slowly."
She led him down to the basement, and the morgue. Stiles held his breath as he stepped inside. It was empty thank god, the medical examiner apparently having gone to lunch. "Shouldn't there be someone here?" Stiles observed, "You know, making sure they don't just up and walk away. This is Beacon Hills, that happens." Jackson was proof.
Melissa ignored him, checking the charts and yanking open the doors. "You're lucky, the body from Sunday night hasn't been released yet." the drawer pulled free smoothly, revealing a covered body. She threw back the cover and Stiles flinched, turning his head away from the pale male form.
"God." he muttered, pressing his sleeve to his nose.
"You asked to see them." Melissa huffed, "What are you looking for?"
Stiles shook his head, leaning in close. "I don't know yet. Do they know what killed him?"
Melissa looked down at the chart, "His throat was slashed."
"Werewolf?" he asked quietly, leaning forward, frowned deepening, "What's this?" he pointed to a red mark beneath the man's jaw.
Melissa glanced over, "Report said he was strangled with a cord, or rope."
Looking up through his lashes, he met Melissa's eyes, "What kind of werewolf strangles someone."
She shrugged, "I'm new to all this."
Stiles shook his head, "They don't."
"I'm going to guess they don't need to hit them in the back of the head either?"
Stiles tilted his head, looking at the back of the guys skull, wincing and turning a little green at the hole, and the brain beyond. "So, what killed him?"
Melissa looked back down at the file, "Inconclusive. Any one of these things could have killed him." she said, meeting Stiles gaze over the body, "Someone seriously wanted this poor kid dead."
Stiles nodded, swallowing hard and straightening. "I need you to look at the latest victim. Heather George. See if she has the same wounds."
Melissa stared at him, "Stiles?"
He shook his head, "I can't… I can't look."
"You knew her?" Melissa gasped. At Stiles' nod, she hurried over to the examination table and pulled back the sheet.
Stiles turned his back away, staring at the wall with tears in his eyes. He listened to the rustle of sheets and bit into his lip, memories of a long-gone childhood flooding back. Heather's laugh. His mother's smile. Back when life was normal, before the fear took hold. Before his mom died and left him with only himself for protection. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and tears began to roll down his cheek and Stiles swiped at his face with his sleeve, burring his eyes in the crook of his elbow for a second.
"Stiles, honey?" Melissa said softly from just behind him. Cautiously he turned, making sure not to look over at the table. She nodded, "I'm sorry."
Stiles filled his lungs and flexed his fingers, "I…okay," he choked, "Thanks Melissa. Not a word to dad, okay."
She gave him a sad smile and inclined her head. He didn't wait for her to show him out, turning on his heels he sprinted out of the double doors, and towards the elevator.
Stiles mind was on fire, working overtime to try and juggle all the information. The slice to the throat could be down to a werewolf. Cora maybe, but why would she strangle and crack skulls? Over kill wasn't very werewolfy, was it?
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Stiles fished out his cell, scrolling through the contacts, hitting call he lifted it to his ear.
After two rings, a familiar smooth voice grunted, "Stiles?"
"I need you to pick me up. We have a problem."
_(*-*)_/
Derek pulled the Camaro up outside the hospital and watched as Stiles clambered inside. "What's happened?"
"I'll tell you on the way."
"Way to where?" Derek frowned, already pulling out of the parking lot.
"The school." Stiles said distractedly, eyes fixed on the road ahead as his head twisted and turned, making connections.
"Stiles what's happening?" Derek growled frustrated.
With a sharp intake of breath, Stiles head snapped around to fix Derek with a hard look. "I... I can't be sure, I need to do some research but…" he swallowed, grinding his teeth for a moment, "I think something bad is here."
Derek frowned, "What do you mean, bad?"
"Supernatural bad. Two dead teenagers ritually murdered bad."
"What?" Derek's head snapped around, "Are you sure."
"Have I ever been wrong?" Derek lifted a brow and Stiles sighed, "Apart from that one time."
There was a tense silence, the only sound that of their heavy breathing. When Derek spoke again his voice was rough, "Cora?"
Stiles shrugged, "I don't know. Is there a reason a werewolf would strangle and smash a victims' skull before slicing its throat?"
Derek looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, "No."
"I didn't think so. - So, if your sister is involved, she'd not working alone."
Derek's fingers tightened on the wheel. "What about the woman?" he asked, "The one that saved Isaac. Do you think she could be involved?"
Stiles leant of the window ledge, his fingers carding through his hair. "I…" he licked at his lips, heart racing at the reminder of the woman.
Stiles had tried his hardest to forget about her the past week, not wanting to cause another panic attack. But he knew Derek was curious, and while he hadn't pressured Stiles for answers the night of the accident, he'd always known it was just a matter of time before he was forced to reveal just who she was.
Taking a breath, Stiles tapped his foot against the black carpet of the car and replied, "I can't imagine what Manticore would want with ritual sacrifice." he stated matter-of-factly. The name just rolling off his tongue.
Derek kept his eyes on the road ahead, "Manticore. You're sure?"
Stiles nodded, "Yeah. The tattoo Isaac described? My mom had the same one. All X5s had them according to my mom. She said that was how I'd know them, when they came." He looked side long at Derek to find the alpha not-so-subtle looking at the back of Stiles neck, and he rolled his eyes, "I don't have one. Seriously Derek? Do you think I'd have sported a buzz cut for years if I had a top-secret tattoo on the back of my neck?"
The man flushed slightly, "You could have been using make-up to cover it up." he justified.
Stiles huffed a laugh. "Touché. - But no, the tattoo isn't genetic apparently."
The Camaro took the final corner that led to the school, "If this mysterious woman has nothing to do with whatever you think is happened, then why safe Isaac?"
Stiles shook his head, "I don't know. Right now, though, I want to take a look at the crime scene. - Can you pick me up after school?" Stiles said as the car came to a stop outside the school, and he shoved open the door. "I'm pretty sure dad's gonna have his hands full, and it'll be easier to sneak back when the teachers go home and look at the school records."
Derek stared at him, "Are you suggesting I help you break into the school?"
Stiles grinned, "It wouldn't be the first time," he gave him a wink and slammed the door.
Derek watched him take the steps two at a time, and shook his head, unable to keep his lips from curving up into a wide smile.
_(*-*)_/
When the final bell rang, Stiles didn't bother waiting around. There was no need to anymore, Scott had left with Isaac without so much as a look his way, but you know, whatever.
After grabbing his books and bag from his locker, Stiles burst through the double door and grinned to see Derek stood a few feet away, leaning back against the Camaro, arms folded waiting for him. He wasn't surprised, Stiles had been fairly confident Derek wasn't going to let him down. If only because the alpha was concerned about just what his sister was involved with, but rather because it gave him a small buzz to be met from school by the town bad boy. Not that Derek was all that bad, not even close in Stiles' good opinion.
As he jogged down the steps and over to Derek with a wide grin, he could hear the whispers of his fellow students, and going by the way Derek's brow was curved with amusement, he heard it too. Apparently, there was a common consensus that Stiles was hitting above his weight and was a walking cliché. At least according to his teammate Webber, who's muttered, "Sheriff's son dating tall dark and psycho, no imagination." had actually made Stiles laugh outright.
Stiles considered slapping Derek with a kiss, just to give their audience an eyeful, but didn't really want to have to break out his ass-kicking skills in self-defense when Derek tried to rip his throat out. Instead he just fidgeted with the strap of his bag and smiled, "Hey."
"Hey," Derek's gaze flickered over his shoulder as he asked, "So, what now?"
Stiles shrugged, "Figured we'd go for a burger, give the school a chance to clear out and then come back."
Derek flickered his green eyes to meet Stiles and gave a nod, turning his body to open the car door. Stiles almost jumped out of his skin when Derek's hand landed on the hollow of his back, guiding him to the seat. He swallowed around his heart, which had decided to relocate into his throat. He had one foot into the car when Derek startled a loud yelp out of him.
Stiles' head snapped around with a scandalized gaze, only to find Derek was gone. Lowering himself into the seat, he slammed the door closed and turned to glare at the alpha. "Did you just slap my ass?"
Derek looked at him shamefully, "Uh, yeah. - Sorry."
"Why did you slap my ass, Derek?"
He started the engine and pulled away from the curb, "I said sorry. - I…" he shook his head, "I don't know why I did that."
Stiles stared at him, face flushed and heart racing. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak, only for Derek to cut over him.
"I just heard one of the girls saying I had to be your cousin, because there was no way you'd get a guy like me, and…" he shrugged, fingers flexing on the wheel, "I wanted to make it clear that I wasn't your cousin. - That you could get someone like me, if you wanted."
Stiles gaped. His mouth hung open and he stared at the side of Derek's face. Time stopped, the oxygen in the car had been sucked into a black hole created by those words. Stiles heart wasn't even beating, he couldn't feel it.
What did that even mean? Was that Derek's subtle way of telling him he was interested, or was he just being, you know, supportive or whatever? Why did he even care what people thought of Stiles complete lack of sex appeal?
Derek shifted in his seat, glancing at Stiles out of the corner of his eye, "I'm sorry okay." he repeated, growing both flustered and concerned, "It was a misjudgment. It won't happen again."
"No." Stiles said quickly, then sucked in a deep breath when he realized he hadn't taken one in over a minute, "No, it's fine. Thanks, I…I guess." with another lick of his lips, he sat back, turning his gaze to the road.
They drove in utter silence to the diner, a strained tension settling between them that hadn't been there since the incident with the back of his father's patrol car a year ago. Stiles gritted his teeth and told himself to chill out.
When Derek pulled into a space in the parking lot, Stiles leapt out and hurried towards the door, only noticing when he had his hand on the handle that he was alone. Turning back, he saw Derek across the lot, sat behind the wheel, scowling. Sighing to himself, Stiles rolled his eyes, "Are you coming in or what?" he asked, knowing Derek would hear him, despite the distance and the car windows.
He straightened to listen for an answer but didn't get one. Instead, Derek lingered in the seat. Hungry and not in the mood to argue, for once, because food trumped words, Stiles stepped inside and made himself at ease in the line.
Derek was still brooding in his car when Stiles collected his order and made his way over to a booth in the corner. Sliding the tray onto the table he made himself comfortable on the seat, before pulling his cell out and opening up Derek's message thread.
Foods getting cold.
He hit send and counted to ten before typing out a follow up.
Derek, stop moping and get in here.
Please.
Stiles waited, foot tapping against the black tiled floor, his toe catching on the base of the opposite bench with each downward motion. He was just about to give up hope, and strike Derek off his friends list when the alpha slid into the booth, knocking Stiles foot out of the way.
Derek looked like hell and Stiles frowned, concerned. He leant forward to whisper, "Dude, are you okay?"
Derek refused to meet his gaze, eyes focused on the table. His back was straight, and his hands were buried in the pockets of his leather jacket. Stiles chest tightened at the sudden distance between them after months of closeness.
"Derek? - Look, if your freaking out about what happened at the school...?"
"I shouldn't have done that." Derek muttered, "You're a kid."
Stiles huffed indignant, slumping back against the red leather, "Jeez, thanks." He glowered across the booth at the alpha.
Derek looked up at him with troubled eyes, "It's a fact. You're not even 17 yet." lips a thin line as he shook his head, "I shouldn't have..."
"Dude, take a breath." Stiles said, leaning forward again, "It's not a big deal. You've done worse to me than give my ass a pat." That was the wrong thing to say apparently because Derek looked horrified and seconds away from barfing.
"Okay, we're taking this food to go." He got to his feet and gathered his burgers, curly fries and soda, looking pointedly at Derek's own serving when he didn't move, "And we're going to go somewhere and you're going to tell me what the hell is going on."
Derek looked at him reluctantly for along few seconds before giving a sharp nod and grabbing the food.
They didn't discuss where they were going to go, they simply got back in the Camaro and started driving. Stiles figured Derek would take him back to the house, but instead if making the turning, Derek kept on driving. Further and further away from town. Stiles thought he should be worried, and at one time he would have been, but he'd spent two months with Derek. Day after day. Hour after hour. And while he still knew so little about the man, considering how much Derek knew about him, he somehow knew he could trust him.
That trust was repaid when Derek finally broke the tense silence. "Kate," he whispered, voice quiet and uncharacteristically vulnerable.
Stiles didn't look at him, not wanting to spook him, "Hmmm?"
Derek was quiet for a couple more seconds before saying, "I was sixteen when I first met her."
Stiles couldn't keep his head from twisting around, even if he tried. He stared at Derek's profile, eyes wide with surprise, "You knew Kate, before she…"
Derek took a deep breath, the muscle in his jaw working beneath his beard, "I… I'm the r-reason they died."
Stiles frowned, "What?"
The Camaro swerved violently to the side of the road, tires screeching and dirt flying. Stiles reached out with his cast covered arm to brace himself against the unexpected movement. The second the car stopped, Derek flung open the door and got out. Stiles twisted to watch him through the back window as he paced behind the car, before climbing out.
"I was 16 when she approached me," Derek said breathlessly, moving back and forth, like a cornered animal, "16! Hormones and desires. I was so arrogant back then; couldn't see the threat she truly was. I knew she was an Argent. I knew she was a hunter, but I didn't care. She was beautiful, and she wanted me. She knew what I was. There were no secrets between us, not like…" Derek squeezed his eyes closed, taking in a painfully deep breath, "No secrets." he said again, soft and wrecked, "I told her everything. About me, about the pack. I revealed all our weaknesses, and how to get around our strengths. I gave her everything she needed to know to kill my family, and all for sex. All because she allowed me to have sex with her. 16, Stiles." he said finally, "I was 16 and she…"
Stiles stared at him, everything falling into place. He's suspected that Kate had inside information, but in all honesty, he'd thought it had come from Peter. "Derek, I…" he shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, stretching out the left side with his cast. "You're not Kate." he said finally, gaze fixed insistently on the alpha. "What you did, it's not the same thing."
"Isn't it?"
"Not even close, Derek." he took a step closer, tilting his head to capture Derek's gaze, "Slapping my ass, it was a joke, man, I know it was a joke. I wasn't mad, and I didn't feel attack, just surprised you did it." he scoffed, shrugging, "You're always so uptight and distant. And just so we're being all honest and shit, I was considering kissing you in front of everyone for the same reason, and the only reason I didn't was because I didn't want to have to kick your ass when you tried to rip my throat out for it. - As fun as it would be to see the whole damn school know I'm a badass. - You don't have to freak out. You are not Kate Argent by any stretch of the imagination. We're buddies, okay. Right?"
He waited for Derek to nod and then grinned, "Buddies touch each other. Buddies slap each other's asses, have you seen soccer and football players, they're always grabbing a handful, man. It's no big deal. I swear." He watched Derek fight to regain his composure, "I… Derek, I think you might want to talk to someone though, about…all of it."
"I am." Derek said, looking at him meaningfully.
"I meant a professional dude. You know me, I'm likely to step into a minefield and make everything a thousand times worse."
Derek shook his head, "You've done pretty well so far." he said softly, looking into Stiles eyes with a warm grateful smile.
Stiles cleared his throat and shifted on his feet, "Uh, yeah, uh, thanks." he chewed on his lower lip for a second, "Also, maybe you know, get out there. Date someone." Stiles ignored the way his gut clenched at the idea.
"I don't know if I'm ready to date, not…"
"You still hung up on Nick?" Stiles asked, lightly.
Derek looked at him, brows pulling together. "No." he shook his head, "It wasn't that serious."
"Oh." Stiles sighed, relieved, "I mean, that's good, it means you can you know, move on. Get out there. Meet someone new."
Derek looked as if Stiles had just told him to suck on a lemon.
"Look, man, I'm not saying forget and get over it, because dude, that shit isn't the get over kind of stuff, you know. - But you need to take back control, Derek. She's dead. She's burning in hell for what she did to you, and your family, don't let her drag you down with her."
Derek swallowed thickly, blinking back tears. "You're wise beyond your years, Stiles." he muttered gratefully.
Stiles flushed, shrugging. "I had to grow up quick, I guess."
Derek nodded, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder, "I'm sorry about that."
They stared at each other for a long moment before Derek yanked his hand back as if burnt, and Stiles pretended not to notice the tortured look that crossed the alphas face.
Clearing his throat, Stiles pulled out his cell, checking the time. "The school should be empty by the time we get back. Ready for a little B&E?"
With another sour look, Derek huffed, "I don't know why you need me?"
"Look out." Stiles confirmed, heading back to the front of the car.
"You have everything I have Stiles, you don't need me."
Stiles stopped, looking over the roof at Derek, "Dude, bros don't let bros commit felonies alone. Especially when that bro is the sheriff's kid."
"Is this what you used to make Scott do?"
Stiles sighed sadly, leaning his broken arm on the roof, "The only time Scott did anything remotely questionable with me, he ended up a werewolf."
"Uh." Derek murmured, then pulled open the car door, "Let's go then. - But don't expect me to hang around if the police show up." he smirked.
"Not cool bro, not cool."
A/N: If there is anything you feel I should tag, please let me know, because I might miss something. Thank you. As always, feedback is good.
