"WHAT?!"
Derek's growling had steadily continued to climb in both force and volume. Pretty soon he'd reach monster truck level decibels, Stiles thought, and wasn't that just ironic. Derek's right arm was pressed up against Stiles' chest and his body was pressed close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from Derek's body and he wondered briefly what body temperature werewolves had naturally. Then he wondered if they noticed they ran hotter, and if they had trouble sleeping under covers and if they had to sleep nude because of it. Stiles stopped himself from following that train of thought because really? Why was he going down that road? He locked down those thoughts, shoved them to the back of his mind and threw away the key. He was seconds away from asking Derek about werewolves' body temperatures and the consequences thereof before he realized Derek was still pinning him bodily against his door and had not, in fact, answered his question.
"What do you mean Hunters? Dean's a mechanic and Sam is going to school to be a lawyer for Christ's sake," Stiles told him.
Derek pushed away from Stiles and began pacing the room. Stiles let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and assessed the situation. Derek's eyes were still glowing bright blue but his ears and fangs had retracted so he looked – for the most part – normal. Or, well, normal for Derek Hale.
"Stiles, I can smell the gun powder on them," Derek said as he continued to wear a hole in Stiles' floor. "Not to mention the holy water, cedar stakes and small arsenal they have locked in the trunk."
Stiles sagged against his bedroom door as he processed what Derek said.
The Winchesters – Hunters? Impossible.
"No, not possible dude," he said, echoing his own thoughts. "We've met Hunters before, remember? They're nothing like the Argents. Sam and Dean are sane."
Derek growled again at the mention of the Argents. "Stiles, trust me on this. They're Hunters. But I'm picking up a scent I don't recognize – it's almost human but there's something strange about it and I can't figure it out."
It took Stiles no more than a second to realize what Derek was implying and he shook his head in disbelief.
"No, impossible, are you saying one of them is a werewolf or something?" he asked incredulously.
Derek snorted at that.
"Stiles, I think I would know what a werewolf smelled like, even if I hadn't met them before," he said. "No, neither of the men downstairs are anything more than human, but they've been in contact with someone who is. It's all over the backseat of the Impala."
"Wait, so if there are other things out there besides werewolves, does that mean that vampires are real too?!"
Derek shot Stiles a cold look.
"I need to find out more about these Winchesters," he said, heading towards the window. "Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. And make sure Scott stays out of trouble too."
And with that, he climbed out the window and disappeared into the night, leaving Stiles to once again figure out what was going on by himself.
/
After a few minutes of flailing around his room because seriously, how was this his life Stiles slowly opened his bedroom door and poked his head out. He could just make out the voices drifting out of the kitchen. He dropped to the floor and army crawled to the edge of the stairs to listen. He felt guilty about spying on his dad and two of his dad's closest friends, but knew this was the best way at gathering information so he could make a plan. One that preferably didn't involve Derek tearing the Winchesters into pieces.
"We looked into it after you called us, and you're right. There have been several minor omens in this area over the past few months." Sam's voice carried easily from the kitchen, but Stiles frowned as he tried to piece together what his words could mean.
Dean cut off whatever Stiles' dad had been about to say. "No, the omens weren't the same as the ones six years ago. It's unlikely that the same one that killed your wife has returned but we'll set up protection around your house and we have ways of keeping you and Stiles safe when we're not here."
Stiles jerked and almost fell down the steps when he heard Dean mention his mother. How could Mom have anything to do with why the Winchesters are here? And how do they know I could be in danger? Do they know about Derek and Scott?
He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he almost missed Sam speaking again.
"But the animal attacks are odd. That's not how they usually operate so we might be dealing with something else as well. They could be working together but it's unlikely."
Stiles' blood ran cold. They could find out about the werewolves, he thought frantically. Not good, very not good.
Just then, he heard the chairs at the kitchen table scrape across the floor as all three of the men stood up. There's a cheap motel at the southern edge of town, it'll be easier for you to work in peace there, you know how Stiles is, his dad said to the Winchesters. He heard them laugh before they headed for the door. Stiles scrambled to get to his feet and into his bedroom before anyone saw him.
Closing the door quietly behind him, he shut his eyes and took a deep breath before marching over to his computer and turning it on. Luckily it was Friday night and he didn't have school in the morning because he knew it was going to be a long night. He glanced at the clock which read close to midnight and sighed as he popped two more Adderall and typed 'Omens' into his Google search bar.