Out
Friday nights used to be game night for him and Scott, then they'd kind of became running-for-your-life night. Now though, with Scott off doing his own thing, and his dad still buried elbow deep in trying to find the virgin killer, that Stiles was pretty much on his lonesome. Which is how he ends up stood at Derek's front door, takeout, popcorn and the Grease boxset in his hand.
He knocked on the door, waiting impatiently out in the dim evening sunlight. His foot tapped against the wooden boards of the porch, his hearing straining to listen for any movement in the house. The Camaro was gone, as was the Volvo, but Stiles hadn't paid much attention to that, as he'd pulled up. Too eager to get into the house and tease Derek with the DVD's, now though he frowned. He knocked again, despite already knowing the house was empty, before dragging himself back down the porch steps. At the bottom he paused, looking up at the windows, as if expecting to see Derek looking out, but they were dark, the sunlight bouncing off the polished glass. With a deep sigh, Stiles turned away and began his long trek back to town.
_(*-*)_/
"A date?" Stiles gaped, looking from Lydia to Jackson, then back again.
Jackson shrugged, leaning back in the chair like he owned it, without a care in the world, and rolling his eyes. Lydia sat beside him, eyes focused on a book, seemingly completely oblivious to the conversation going on around her.
"How do you know he was on a date?" Stiles demanded, "Did Isaac tell you?"
Jackson scoffed, shaking his head, "Hardly," his gaze flickered across the dining hall to where Isaac sat with Scott, heads bent together. Stiles looked over his shoulder briefly, then turned his attention back as Jackson continued, "We drove past the Firefly, saw him."
Stiles shrugged, "So, he went for a drink,"
Jackson's lip curled, and he leant forward, eyes intense as they locked on Stiles, "Yeah, with a woman." he said with pleasure, "Saw them at a table, all smiles and laughter. Trust me, I know what a date looks like," he scoffed.
Stiles tore his gaze from Jackson's and stared down at his tray, chewing at the inside of his lip. So, Derek had a date, big deal. He'd told him he should get out there, hadn't he? He should be happy that Derek was taking his advice, and yet..."Who was it?" He heard himself ask quietly.
When Jackson didn't answer, Stiles lifted his gaze to find Jackson's attention elsewhere. Turning once again in his seat he regarded just what Jackson was staring at.
Ethan and Aiden Berrisford had just started at Beacon Hills high school, which instantly meant they were the focus of everyone's attention for one reason or another. He'd seen Danny and Lydia checking them out, which obviously meant Jackson disliked them, seeing as his ego insisted that he and he alone be the object of his girlfriend and best friend's lustful attentions.
Stiles of course disliked them because he was paranoid. That two knew students had arrived in Beacon Hills at the same time as someone was killing virgins, was more than enough to get his Spidey senses tingling, but as it turned out, according to Jackson and Isaac, they were also werewolves.
Stiles watched the pair move through the cafeteria, fellow students parting like the red sea, naturally cautious of them. When they got their food, they made themselves comfortable at a table and Stiles shifted awkwardly when the pairs eyes focused on them. Jackson let out a low growl under his breath and moved to rise out if his chair. Stiles hand shot out to grip Jackson's wrist and hold him in his seat, "Don't," he warned, "not here."
Jackson glared at him, but Stiles met it head on, his fingers tightening. For the first time since they'd taken a seat, Lydia looked up from her books, green eyes flickering between Stiles and her boyfriend before turning to regard the twins across the room. One of them grinned at her, all his pearly white teeth on show, and winked. It took all Stiles strength to hold Jackson down, so much so he felt the bone cracking under his palm.
Lydia turned back and fixed Stiles with a look half way between uncertain and tired. Sighing, Stiles got to his feet and grabbed his apple and soda, "Come on, we're leaving." He ordered, looking to Jackson, fully expecting an argument. Instead the beta got up, slipped his arm around Lydia's shoulder and steered her away from the table, following Stiles.
As they passed Scott and Isaac, Stiles looked at them both, a silent message to be careful.
_(*-*)_/
"You're sure they're werewolves?" Derek asked, twisting his head to regard Stiles in the passenger seat.
"Yeah," Stiles nodded, "Jackson and Isaac can't both be wrong,"
Derek frowned, his fingers drumming the steering wheel as he drove Stiles home. He'd text Stiles Sunday afternoon and asked if he needed a ride to and from school, seeing as he was driving Isaac. Stiles had obviously jumped at the chance, anything was better than taking the bus. Now though it was just the two of them, Isaac having gone off with Scott.
It wasn't jealousy, not by a long shot, okay maybe there was a little jealousy, but Stiles couldn't help but feel a little pissed at Isaac for spending so much time with Scott, especially with everything going on. The thing was, Stiles feared what Scott was saying to the beta. He could to help but worry that Scott was trying to...steal Isaac away from Derek. Maybe even start his own pack? Could an omega start a pack? Would that make him an alpha? There was still so much Stiles didn't know. So much he wanted to ask but was somewhat afraid of the answers.
However, he knew Derek was worrying about the same thing. He'd seen the man's face when Isaac had strolled up to him and said he was going to study with Scott, his lanky body almost folded in on itself, as if he thought Derek was going to last out and drag him home. Stiles prayed that e reaction had more to do with Mr. Lahey's treatment of his son and less to do with Scott whispering in his ear.
It was hard to believe that once he'd have never believed his best friend capable of such a thing, but...times change and so regretfully do people.
Derek of course had just nodded, muttered that he should call him to pick him up, or to let him know he was on his way, then climbed into the SUV and waited for Stiles to clamber in next to him. Stiles had brought up the twins just to ease the tension as they'd driven away from the high school.
"Did they say anything?" Derek asked, taking a left on main street.
"No, I think they're trying to steal your crown as town bad boy, all brooding and intimidating." Stiles scoffed, rummaging in his bad for the packet of Reece cups he'd stashed away between classes.
Derek did his Muttly grumble and Stiles grinned into his bag. "So, nothing happened?"
Stiles pulled the orange packet free with a triumphant hoot, and ripped the wrapper before replying, "Jackson almost ripped one of their heads off for smiling at Lydia?" He stated, shoving a cup in his mouth.
Derek's head shot around, "What?" He demanded angrily.
"Calm down big guy, I said almost, as in he almost got out of his chair, stomped over there and ripped the guy's head off, and if I hadn't been there that is exactly what he would have done, but I defused the situation."
Derek raised a disbelieving brow at him, "You did?" He smirked.
"Hey, I'll have you know I'm practically an expert at defusing situations involving irrational werewolf anger."
"Hmmhmm," Derek chuckled, "I'm just surprised he listened."
Stiles shrugged, "What can I say, clearly I should have broken everyone's arms a year ago, because that's apparently the only way to get any of you to take me seriously." there was a bitterness to Stiles words that put him off his candy, and he held out the last remaining cup to Derek, "Here. I've lost my appetite."
Derek side-eyed the chocolate before taking it, "I've always taken you seriously Stiles, at least where this stuff is concerned," he waved his hand in the air, gesturing at nothing in particular,
"Car maintenance?" Stiles asked with a straight face, and Derek sighed, rolling his eyes and slipping the Reece's cup into his mouth, "You've got instincts, good instincts, I've always known that. It's why I came to you more than I went to Scott."
"My good instincts almost got you arrested for your sister's murder." Stiles pointed out with a smirk.
Derek stared at him for a long moment, before jerking a shoulder, "Nobody's perfect," he chuckled.
Stiles stared at the alpha's profile, watching the way his eyes crinkled softly, only to falter a second later as the smile faded, and Stiles wondered what had suddenly killed that thousand-watt smile. "Derek?"
"Hmm," he huffed, the muscle in his jaw working as he ground his teeth.
"You okay?"
"Fine." Derek replied, voice low and thick, as if struggling to hold something at bay. "Just a…a joke, it doesn't matter, forget it."
Stiles frowned, his gaze never leaving the man's features. He'd never seen anyone look so shattered at a poorly received joke before, it set his instincts on edge. Replaying what was said over and over in his head, trying to figure out what he'd missed.
Derek clearly knew what he was doing, because he exhaled a wary sigh and muttered, "It's a movie quote, it's really not important."
"Look on your face says otherwise," Stiles replied quietly, eyes still fixed on the alpha.
Derek turned his face, glancing briefly out of the window as they passed the diner, "Do you want to grab something to eat?"
Stiles smiled, "Sure."
Turning the SUV into the parking lot, the pair headed inside. Stiles marching over to their usual booth while Derek ordered. It took longer than usual for Derek to get served, due to the place being filled with Stiles fellow students. When Derek slid into the booth, Stiles wasted no time tucking into his curly fries.
"My mom used to love old movies," Derek said unexpectedly.
Stiles looked up through his lashes, a fry hanging from his mouth, Derek smiled, shaking his head, "We used to have movie nights, just me and my mom."
Stiles swallowed, eyes never leaving the man in front of him. He pressed his lips into a thin line and waited for Derek to say more.
"Sometimes Cora would join us, but she was still young, so she'd usually fall asleep in the first five minutes," he huffed a laugh, fingers fussing aimlessly with his own fries. "The quote," he said, meeting Stiles eyes, "It was from Some Like It Hot, one of my mom's favorites. Whenever we'd do something wrong, she always said 'Well, nobody's perfect', then she'd ground us for a week," he laughed, and it was so genuine and sad that Stiles had to swallow the sudden lump in his throat and inhale deeply to stop tears from pooling in his eyes.
"She loved old back and white films, and musicals."
"Grease?" Stiles muttered softly, the corner of his lips turning up.
Derek nodded, "I'd considered doing a course in film when I graduated, but then…" he reached for his soda, taking a long sip. When he set it back down, he went back to fiddling with the fries, still not moving to eat one. "I… - I haven't watched an old movie since the fire, it kind of feels like an extra betrayal."
Stiles nodded understandingly, "I get that. You feel wrong for enjoying something when they're not here to enjoy it too."
"Yeah. – Nick took me to a movie festival once, early on. I think he got the idea from Laura. They were showing a double bill, It Happened One Night and Some Like It Hot. I didn't get past the opening credits, I walked out. Nick was confused. It took me a week to build up the…courage to tell him about mom and movies, and he was so mad,"
"What?" Stiles gaped, anger flooding him.
"At Laura." Derek quickly clarified, "They had a huge fight."
"I should hope so, man," Stiles muttered, nodding animatedly, "Why the hell would she think you'd enjoy that."
Derek watched his fingers, "She said she thought it would help. Said I couldn't stop doing stuff just because mom wasn't there to do it with."
Stiles gritted his teeth. Having never met Laura, alive anyway, he'd kind of build up a picture of the woman in his head. The perfect big sister, protective. Wrapping Derek in cotton wool and bubble wrap, scaring off bullies and possible suitors. – As it turned out, he was wrong.
"She didn't get it, because she didn't know. About Kate. About what I'd done. Watching those movies," he shook his head, "It's like I'm taunting her."
Stiles reached out without really thinking, grabbing Derek's hand and squeezing it, "You can't keep blaming yourself, dude. You know that. – Your mom, what would she say if she were here? Do you really think she'd hate you, or…" he swallowed, tightening his fingers a little more, "or would she say, Nobody's perfect?"
Derek's eyes lifted from where he was staring at Stiles hand, to his eyes. The green orbs shimmering with tears, and the man's throat working convulsively to dislodge a large lump of pain, regret and heartbreak.
They sat there in silence, just staring at each other, until a crash from behind the counter burst the bubble. Stiles yanked his hand back, face going read, he hurriedly shoveled cold fries into his mouth and stared out the window. He didn't look at Derek until he'd swallowed and gotten himself under control. Turning back, he found Derek staring down at his burger as if it had created a crime against him by being cold.
"uh, so…I hear you had a date Friday." Stiles blurted, grabbing up his soda and replacing the words with his straw.
Derek looked up, surprised. "Uh…how'd you...? Who told you that?"
Stiles took a last long suck, inhaling through his nose before answering, "Jackson said he saw you at the Firefly with some woman."
Derek flushed, "Oh, yes."
Stiles nodded, "Good. That's good man, really." He insisted, grinning, "I said you needed to get out there, so this is great news. – Who is she?" he asked, his leg bouncing under the table.
"Just some woman I met in the grocery store."
Stiles snorted, "Smooth. Does she have a name?"
Derek raised a brow at him, "Why do you want to know?"
Stiles' stared at him, amused, "Because friends want to know what to call their friends new girlfriend."
"She's not my girlfriend, we had one date."
Stiles sighed dramatically, "You scared her off with your broody eyebrows and silence, didn't you?"
"No!" Derek snapped, irritated, "Actually she asked me out again."
Stiles smirked, "she asked you out?"
"Welcome to the 21st Century Stiles? Girls can ask a guy out now, you know."
Stiles hands flew up defensively, "Just kidding, man." He sighed, shrugging, "I-I'm just jealous."
"Jealous?" Derek replied, voice tight and eyes wide, "Of…?"
Stiles stared down at his half-eaten meal, "Not having anyone to spend my Friday nights with." He slumped back in the booth, fingers tearing strips from the napkin, "It didn't used to bother me, 'because I kept holding on to my five-year plan…"
"Five-year plan?" Derek frowned.
"To get Lydia to fall in love with me." He huffed a dismissive laugh, "but it's clear now that I haven't got a shot with her."
"You don't know that?" Derek mumbled, "Her and Jackson aren't going to last forever?"
Stiles looked up through his lashes, lip curving, "What, you're telling me werewolves don't mate for life?"
Derek rolled his eyes, "No, we don't mate for life."
"Man, Scott's going to be crushed," he laughed, then brushed it off, "Doesn't matter, even if Lydia and Jackson broke up tomorrow, she wouldn't want me. I'm the guy next door, you know? The dorky best friend, everyone turns to with their problems who never gets the hot girlfriend. – Or boyfriend," he added on a sigh.
"Her loss." Derek stated certainly, "Someday Stiles, someone will see just how great you are."
Stiles met his gaze, oxygen leaving his lungs. "Uh…" he licked his lips. "I…thanks."
Derek shrugged, "Finished?"
Stiles nodded, "Yeah." They slid out of the booth and headed for the door, tossing the rubbish in the trashcan as they passed. "So, what are you going to do about the twins?" he asked once they were settled back in the SUV.
Derek paused in starting the engine, staring thoughtfully out the window at the diner, "I… I want to know more about them before I approach. It would be stupid going in blind," he turned to regard Stiles, "Can you do a little detective work?"
Stiles grinned from ear to ear, "I thought you'd never ask. Drop me off at the station."
With a nod, Derek started the engine and pulled away from the diner.
_(*-*)_/
Stiles strolled into the station like he owned the place, grinning at Rebekah on the desk, before stepping through the partition and heading back to his father's office. He smiled at a few of the officers, asked how they were, "How's the family, Jeff." He called to an old guy who'd been there longer than his dad. Stiles figured his dad just couldn't bring himself to let him go, so stuck him on desk duty.
After what went down with Matt before the summer break there were a few new faces, people he was still getting to know, like Parrish. Handsome guy in his late twenties, blond hair, blue eyes. Cliché small town hero, everyone's favorite, except he wasn't born and raised in Beacon Hills. For some reason, Stiles still couldn't fathom, he'd moved to town over the summer. According to his dad, the guy was a veteran and was looking to maintain the order in his life but didn't want the stresses of a large city. – Stiles had smirked when his dad said that, because there was nothing more stressful than Beacon Hills, or more dangerous.
"Are you sure she's missing?" Parrish said quietly.
"Yes." A rough voice snapped angrily, and Stiles stared at the older man. He recognized him from town, but there was something in the back of Stiles mind, some distant memory he couldn't quite reach.
Parrish nodded, scribbling information on a piece of paper, "Should I notify the state authorities?" he asked, and Stiles frowned, surely he'd learnt the procedure by now.
Stiles stared at them and they seemed to sense his gaze because both men looked up, eyes locking with his.
"Stiles," the old man greeted with a nod.
"Mr. Tate." Stiles replied with a smile, "Everything okay?"
"Fine, Stiles." Parrish dismissed, "Everything is under control. Your dad's in his office."
Stiles narrowed his eyes at the deputy, "Thanks," before he turned to leave them to it, he couldn't help but remind Deputy Parrish, "If you've got a missing minor, you need to put out an Amber Alert."
Parrish bristled, chest puffing out, "I'm aware, thank you."
"Just trying to help, you being new and all." He chuckled, marching away. He strained his hearing though, listening into the conversation behind him.
"That boy's too much like his mother," Mr. Tate huffed.
"I wouldn't remember," Parrish said softly, and Stiles froze, turning back to look at the desk as the two men bowed their heads together, "Do you want me to put out an Amber Alert? It'll mean…"
"No." Mr. Tate shook his head, "I don't want to risk it, just keep your ear to the ground, okay?"
"Will do. You going to put the word out?"
"Already done."
Stiles stared, heart galloping like a race horse in the Kentucky Derby. They knew his mom? Parrish knew his mom? How? Okay, what the hell? Like he didn't have enough to deal with right now, with virgin killers and newbie werewolf twins, not to mention Derek's new found dating life, - Okay, so that really wasn't any of his business, but still…a lot was going on.
He inhales sharply at the memory of Isaac and the mysterious woman on the bike. His hand started to shake, and he bit hard into his lower lip to try and calm down. Then the door opened behind him causing him to let out a loud yelp of surprise, drawing everyone's attention, even Parrish and Mr. Tate.
"Stiles?"
"Dad," He greeted, turning breathlessly to regard his father with a wide shaky smile, "Hey."
"What are you doing here?"
"I uh…thought I'd come see if you wanted to grab dinner."
John stepped aside and waved his son into the office, closing the door behind him, "What are you really doing here?" he demanded.
"What? Can't a son have dinner with his dad?" Stiles ranted, "I've barely seen you since this business started," he waved his hand at his father's pin board.
John observed him intensely, "I wish I could believe that was why you were here," he sighed, strolling around the desk and taking a seat, "but considering how secretive you've been lately, not to mention the trouble you keep finding yourself in the middle off, I just can't. – So, if you're hear for something, just tell me." He rubbed tiredly at his eyes and Stiles fell into the chair, his chest tightening with regret.
"Dad, I swear, I just want to have dinner." He lied, and was grateful his dad wasn't a werewolf, so he can't hear it.
John looked at him, gaze flickering around his face, "Okay Stiles," he finally breathed, "Dinner would be good, just give me an hour, I've got to run out to the old warehouses on the other side of town." He got to his feet, and stepped back around the desk, heading for the door, "You okay to wait around?"
Stiles fixed a calm smile on his face, "Yeah," and tried to ignore the loud screaming voice in the back of his mind telling him to leave, that he'd just promised his dad he was there for him and he should keep that promise. The information on the twins can wait, right? It's not important. He could call in a favor with Danny, or sneak Derek back into the school again.
"Okay, an hour." John shrugged into his jacket, and stared at his desk for a second, before leaving Stiles alone.
_(*-*)_/
"They're emancipated minors." Stiles said into his phone, reading from his note book. It would have been easier to just print it out, but the less proof he'd hacked his father's work computer the better.
It had been hard enough sitting across from him the Jamieson's family restaurant crumbling under the weight of guilt and pretending everything was just fine. That he hadn't just betrayed his father's trust. Again.
"Do you know where they're staying?"
"The Motel just outside of town, according to the records."
"I see." Derek hummed thoughtfully, "Where are they from, does it say?"
"The paper work is all registered in San Francisco. Though that doesn't necessarily mean that's where they're from."
"Family?"
"Says their parents are dead. There's a death certificate for an Eliza Berrisford, but that's about all."
Derek made that thoughtful noise again, "I've never heard of Berrisford, but I wasn't exactly being taught the ropes growing up," he quietened for a second, "I'll look into them, go search the motel, see what I can pick up. I've told Isaac and Jackson to keep an eye on them, but not to engage with them until we're sure they can be trusted."
"Good idea," Stiles agreed, nodding to his empty bedroom.
"Okay. I'll pick you up at 7."
"Derek," Stiles said quickly, needing to stop him before he hung up.
"What's wrong?" Derek asked, sounding suddenly worried, and it lit a warm fire in Stiles cold chest.
"Nothing, I mean…" he took a breath, swing his pen between his fingers, "I want… - I want to tell dad."
"Tell him what?" Derek asked, the frown clear in his tone.
"About you, about all of it, werewolves, hunters, kanimas. – That these murders might be something supernatural. – Derek I can't keep…"
"Fine." Derek said, cutting him off.
Stiles frowned, pulling the cell from his hear and staring down at the screen for a moment, before lifting it again, "What did you say?"
"I said fine." Derek sighed, "You need to tell your dad, then tell him."
"And you're not, you know, going to freak out about it? I mean, the whole werewolf thing is a huge secret and you're, well your pretty firm on it remaining so, man."
"Stiles," Derek sighed, "I've told you, I trust you, and if you feel your dad can handle this, then that's enough for me. – I know things haven't been good between you, and I also know it's got a lot to do with me."
"It's not you,"
"Okay, us, the werewolf thing. I don't want to be a secret you keep from your dad." He said, voice thick and breathy, "It never ends well. You need to tell him, you tell him."
"Thanks Derek."
"I'll see you in the morning Stiles. Good night."
"Night, dude." Stiles grinned. He was still grinning when he lowered the phone and stared at his screen, the image of him and Scott grinning in their lacrosse uniforms, taken before the world changed. Stiles ran his thumb over the picture, looking between the happy faces for a moment, before opening his album and flicking though the photo until he found the one of the Hale house he'd taken when it was all done, the sun gleaming off the white exterior. Smiling softly to himself, he clicked the setting, replaying the past with the present.
A/N: Okay, firstly, calm down and breathe, no I will not be putting Stiles and Malia together in this fic. Derek and Jennifer are one thing, as it's relevant to the plot, Stiles and Malia is not, so will NOT be happening, not even a little. I dislike them as a couple and barely tolerate Malia as a character, that said I do want her in this story.
Second, I will always keep the Sheriff's name as John because it suits him better and I feel like Jeff Davis purposefully didn't give him the fanon name as a screw you to the fandom. It was such a small thing that never had any real relevance to the show, so why the hell not. It could have been a nice little nod to the fandom, something to say, yeah, we're listening. A bit of fanservice. If Jeff had always planned on his name being Noah, why not tell us that back in season 1 or 2, why drag it out? It's not like Stiles' real name which was kind of a running joke. No, nothing it was definitely Jeff being a bitter old fart who didn't like that as a fandom we didn't just swallow every piece of crap he fed us, and pulled him up on mistakes and bad plots, and NOAH was his payback.
