"Stiles? Have you seen Dark?"
Stiles froze in sheer terror which made Scott stop as well to look strangely over at him, the werewolf for his best friend undoubtedly smelling his anxiety sky rocket, a panic attack imminent. Stiles was grateful that his father was still in the kitchen, ruining whatever he was making for dinner, and wasn't present to see the blood drain away from Stiles's face.
"Upstairs. Why?", Stiles lied carefully, his words coming out too tentative to be believed even by him. It wasn't helping matters that Scott was doing his best confused puppy imitation at the moment. Stiles had failed to mention to him that Derek had decided to hang out at his house while in wolf form when the Sheriff had showed up and Alpha werewolf had inadvertently been made a pet by strange circumstance. Mostly because Stiles happened to like where all his organs were currently located and he truly doubted that Derek would see the humor of the situation or would appreciate the sharing of it with others.
"I haven't seen Dark all day and he's not in your room. I'm pretty sure that I would have noticed him when I went up there earlier with the laundry.", John mused, still too busy making a mess of what could be laughing referred to as food. On a scale of one to 'sweet baby Jesus, I think it's sentient' inedible, Scott's crinkled nose and disgusted expression told Stiles that some Prime Directive might be needed to negotiate with dinner.
"Dark?", Scott mouthed at him.
"Tell you later.", Stiles whispered back.
"So, where is your dog, son? The one you were supposed to be responsible for.", John asked, walking out of the kitchen and looking deceptively casual about it as he dried his hands off with a dishtowel. Used to the cop routine, Stiles prayed fervently to every deity that he had ever read about that Scott would keep his damnable puppy dog looks of confusion under control long enough for him to come up with some plausible lie about Derek's absence.
"Well…..Dark is….", Stile stumbled, his brain crapping out on him when he needed it most, fuck you very much Adderall. He knew there was a reason he kept forgetting to take that shit.
"…..is….oh my god, is right there, dad. Are you going blind in your old age?", Stiles managed out weakly as Derek aka Dark aka everyone's favorite alpha in lupine form trotted down the stairs as easy as he pleased. Stiles was vaguely aware of Scott making some sort of odd choking sounds behind him, enough so that Stiles felt the need to elbow him in the gut. Dismounting the stairs with a click of paws and wave of tail, Derek continued to look very unimpressed with the entire proceeding as he plopped his existence down in front of the Sheriff.
"Huh. I could have sworn…", John murmured, staring down the werewolf who made a show of scratching his pointed ear with a hind leg. Scott actually did choke when John reached to pet Derek's head, the Sheriff giving the teenager a strange look when Scott began to gasp for air.
"What's the matter, Scott? Don't like dogs or are you having an asthma attack?", John asked concerned, though he couldn't remember the last time he had seen Scott with his inhaler. It was another odd thing he took note of on the long list of 'occurrences in his life that didn't fit or sit right with him'. Sadly enough, the majority of these quirks seemed to center around his own son. John relaxed when Scott grinned, waving his concern off. "I know Dark's a big dog but he's really a ball of fluff. I've never seen a gentler dog.".
With that, Scott's face began to darken to a shade of red that told Stiles of the effort his friend was putting in not to laugh, pass out, or spontaneously combust. "You look thirsty Scott. Why don't you go get a drink, man?", Stiles gritted out, kicking Scott hard in the shins while wishing it was a swift kick to the ass.
"Is he alright?", John asked with a worried look, wondering if he should call Melissa or not. "Is he coming down with something?".
"He's just been training hard.", Stiles said quickly, glaring down at Derek when the werewolf snorted.
"Tell him to take it down a notch. I have to start getting ready for work. I made dinner.", John said, making Stiles wince as he gave Derek a final pat on the head.
"So money for pizza…..", Stile started, knowing what that meant.
"…..Is on the counter.", John finished with a sigh. He really did try but he had never gained a knack for cooking.
"Don't forget to walk Dark and pick up some food for him while you are out. I've noticed that you still haven't gotten him a bowl. I don't want dog slobber on my plates or him drinking out of the toilet.", John said as Stiles carefully maintained a neutral expression. Risking a glance over, Stiles found that Derek was giving him a hard look, made even more severe by his icy blue eyes and long snout full of sharp pointy teeth.
"You got it! Walk the dog! Pick up food! No heads in toilets!", Stiles agreed quickly while trying to ignore traitorous noises coming from the kitchen, damn Scott and his keen werewolf hearing. To Stiles's human ears, it sounded very much like Scott was trying to muffle himself with a dishtowel and failing miserably at it. Stiles resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, willing back a tension headache.
"Scott, buddy. How's that water? Slow down and don't choke on it.", Stiles yelled to him as he mentally added, "You bastard.".
"Stay safe, son, and don't go anywhere outside without Dark. There's been a lot of weird things out there lately.", were John's parting words of wisdom, the sheriff unaware of the irony they held as Stiles and Derek watched him go.
"You can totally bite Scott. Just try to keep the bloodshed down to a minimal.", Stiles told the wolf at his side, who appeared to be seriously considering it.
"Hey! I heard that!", Scott yelled from the kitchen.
"You were supposed to, numb nuts. Dude, what the hell was that?!", Stiles roared back, stomping into the kitchen to find a werewolf raiding his fridge, a block of cheese already hanging out of Scott's mouth, held neatly in place with his fangs. "My cheddar! Not cool!".
"I should be asking you the same thing! Why is Derek here? And why is your dad calling him Dark?!", Scott mumbled around his stolen cheese, staring at Derek who glared at him back with ruby eyes, growling so low it was making all the glass in the kitchen shake.
"It's a long story…", Stiles mumbled, not knowing exactly where to begin or how much Derek would let him tell. Having left off his growling, the alpha was now nosing him in the side, impatiently huffing rumbling noises at him.
"What's a long story?", making both of the boys jumped as the Sheriff reentered. Scott grimaced when he noticed Derek's look of judgment directed at him. The wolf managed to convey disgust, boredom, and indifference all at the same time in verdict about Scott's lack of awareness about his surroundings.
"N-nothing much. Just catching up Scott here on Dark.", Stiles fumbled his words, his hand coming to rest on Derek's head to pet it awkwardly. He got a look for his efforts in fail. "What are you doing back here, Dad? Here with the back, in the kitchen… with us.".
"Have you taken your Adderall today?", John squinted at his son, who was looking everywhere except at him. The Sheriff let it go for now, turning his attention to Scott who was unabashedly eating all the cheese, the mooch. "Anyway, it's the damnedest thing. I've asked around all over town. You would think someone would remember or recognize a dog this big and distinctive but not a damn peep or blip on the radar though. Deaton doesn't even know him.".
"Deaton!?", Stiles yelped, falling over in place to catch himself on Derek who grumbled at him but stayed solid as a rock as the teenager flailed to keep himself upright.
"You didn't think I would find out that you'd forgotten but someone's got an appointment with the Doc this Tues for a check up and shots. I came back to tell you that before I forgot. I made the appointment so you can take Dark after school.", John said in a sing song voice as he vigorously rubbed Derek's ears. Stiles closed his eyes, praying that Derek wouldn't eat his dad or nom off his hands. "Don't eat all our food, Scott.".
"Awesome. Thanks, Dad.", Stiles said weakly. He could feel Derek fuming beside him, the wolf tensely pressing into the line of his side. Stiles could foresee quite a bit of wall slamming by a grumpy werewolf in his near future.
"Oh, I'll remind him. I work there so if Stiles can't make it, I can always take Dark in.", Scott looked and sounded dangerously smug and amused with himself. As if in answer, Derek very gracefully got up and left the room with his head held high. Stiles took that as a very bad sign, a very bad sign indeed.
"Aw crap, now look what you've done.", Stiles sighed, gesturing to the departing werewolf who was more than likely full of the grump, more so than usual.
"I'm sure Dark with get over it, son. Just don't forget to get some tags made up for him while you're there.", John chuckled, not really getting why Scott started to laugh or why Stiles looked a cross between terrified and incredibly embarrassed. He felt like he was missing something…again…but damn if he could figure out what. "Scott, are you high?".
"No! No, sorry! Just tired! Extra lacrosse training!", Scott choked out as he tried to sober up from his case of the giggles.
"You boys be safe and try not to break anything.", John shook his head, taking his leave again. Stiles and Scott followed the sheriff out to make sure he left this time.
Stiles was about to ask Scott if his dad's car was truly well and gone when he noticed his friend looking around, his nostrils flaring as he scented the air. "What?", Stiles asked, not seeing what Scott was freaking out about.
"Dude!? Where's my backpack and gear?!", Scott freaked, darting this way and that in search for it when the missing backpack didn't present itself to him. After a quick search. their answer came in the form of Derek lounging on the couch, still in lupine form, his giant paws covered in dirt. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together to get buried.
"All my homework is in there! Where is it!?", Scott yelled at the wolf who favored him with an uninterested look. Derek got up long enough to circle around on the couch before plopping back down with a heavy sigh of what sounded like deep seated disgust.
"Why are you interrogating the dog?", the Sheriff asked, making Stiles's and Scott's feet leave the ground for the second time that day.
"What are you doing back?!", Stiles yelped, trying to will his heart back into his chest.
"I happen to live here and left a file behind by accident. Why is Scott yelling at Dark like he's people?", John arched a brow at his son and childhood friend.
"Er, Dark may have…um…buried Scott's homework.", Stiles really, really wished that sounded better.
"So you're asking him instead of, I don't know wild guess here, checking the backyard?", John sighed, wondering not for the first time about the level of Scott's intelligence and how it was rubbing off on his son.
"Now there's an idea.", Stiles laughed nervously, though the question was more like which backyard or park or part of the preserve Derek had run off to. "Why didn't we think of that? Right, Scott?". Stiles cringed when Scott faked laughed, the idiot werewolf still glaring at Derek who pointedly ignored them all.
"I'm running late. Try to stay out of trouble.", John sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Is he gone? Like really gone this time?", Stiles asked quietly, breaking the tense stillness of the room.
"Yes.", Scott muttered before turning on Derek. "Not cool.", he hissed at the wolf, who rolled over onto his back with full intention of napping comfortably.
"Why don't you just track it down?", Stiles snapped, already totally done with this entire day. All he wanted to do was pass out in his bed for a little while and forget that his life was incredibly full of the weird.
"You don't think I've thought of that?! Derek been here a lot. His scent is everywhere. I don't even know where to begin.", Scott growled. "Why are you here?", he snarled at the wolf who blatantly ignored him, feigning sleep and failing that, feigning indifference.
"Why is he here?!", Scott directed his question this time at Stiles who really didn't want to answer that particular question. He noticed that Derek's pointed ears were swiveled back toward him as if waiting for his answer as well.
On his part, Derek really had none of his own or at least anything that he wanted to admit aloud to himself. He didn't know why he kept coming back here, to Stiles's house. It just felt safe to him and when was the last time he had experienced that sort of sensation? Back when he was fifteen and his pack, his family was still alive and the house, home to numerous generations of Hales wasn't a burned out shell of a building? Now there was something he didn't want to dwell on any time soon as misery and guilt once again threatened to drown him. Turning back over to hide his belly, the wolf buried his nose further into the cushions, letting the scent of Stilinskis overwhelm his senses. Derek tried to lose himself in the odors of a home that was cracked and mended but not broken.
"What the hell do you want me to say?", Stiles gestured helplessly toward the werewolf cuddling with his couch, "It's Derek. It's not like the guy's a sparkling conversationalist or into the whole 'sharing is caring' thing.".
Derek wanted to whimper, his body sagging into the couch like he yearned to disappear into its depths. Perhaps escape, as temporary and precarious as it was, was not possible for him after all. He was technically interloping on Stiles's territory. The human had every right to turn Derek away if he really didn't want him here and he would have to abide. Werewolves didn't need to be invited in like some other supernatural creatures, but they did have some definite rules about territories and the rites of passages within them. Derek prepared himself for the worst, waiting for Stiles to revoke his slight reprieve, this sanctuary. That was until he heard Stiles speak up again.
"He can stay here if he wants to though. Dad's cool with it. Sort of, as long as Derek stays furry and none with the nakedness.", Stiles said, gaining conviction the more he talked and thought about it, because the more his quick mind worked out his words and put them into context with Derek, the more he realized something. What did Derek have to go back to? It wasn't like he had a family to welcome him home and Stiles really doubted that any of the betas were giving Derek the warm and fuzzies he needed. The Alpha had a charred skeleton for a house deep in the woods and a rusted out box of metal underground to return home to. When he really thought about it, Stiles couldn't blame Derek for showing up.
"But it's Derek.", Scott sounded petulant even to Stiles who was used to it by now.
"I'm right here you know. I can understand you, idiots. Me speakie the English.", Derek said, his change so sudden and smooth in its transition it made both teenagers startle from it.
"You're naked! Have you been running around naked this entire time?! Where are your clothes?!", Scott spazzed, making Stiles wince and Derek reassess Scott's mental capacity.
"How are you still alive?", Derek asked in almost a friendly tone, genuinely curious.
"C'mon. Put on some pants. Your junk is touching Stile's couch.", Scott pointed out, turning to Stiles for some sort of back up. "Your couch! His junk!".
"So has mine. It's not like we eat off the furniture.", Stiles shrugged as Scott gaped back at him. "What? Pants can be hard to deal with first thing in the morning."
I gonna make some real dinner. You staying?", Stiles asked Derek, giving up on Scott whose brain seemed to have puttered out while envisioning Stiles's random nakedness on the couch and feeling bad weird for it.
"Depends.", Derek glared at Scott who kept staring at his penis like he had never seen one before. Didn't he shower with team of smelly teenagers on a daily basis?
"Meatloaf?", Stiles said, mentally going over what he had in the fridge. Macaroni and cheese was out due to Scott's selfish cheese mooching.
"Made with real meat?", Derek countered. He had witnessed some of the vegan crap Stiles had tricked or forced his father to eat.
"Well, it's not made from loaf.", Stile shot back.
"You've tried to sneak in that tofu shit before.", Derek challenged, his eyebrows coming into play this time to express his discontent about the entire matter of fake meat.
"Fair enough. Yes, with all meaty, heart clogging goodness. Happy now?", Stiles sighed in feigned defeat, waving off the alpha's look.
"Oh my God! Is this really happening!?", Scott yelled, the werewolf looking very confused at the moment.
"Don't be such a sour wolf. Derek's got that covered already and you don't have to have any. No one is forcing meatloaf on you.", Stiles shot over his shoulder, leaving the two werewolves to figure it out while he made dinner.
"Meatloaf's fine! I'm talking about how Derek is sitting around naked like it's normal while you're making him dinner and my homework is still gone!", Scott complained, not sure if he should continue this conversation with Stiles in the kitchen or keep an eye on Derek who didn't seem to be doing a hell of a lot of anything at the moment.
"You'd be able to find your homework if you bothered to listen to me or trained with the betas. It's not my fault that you suck at being a werewolf.", Derek sighed as he reached for the remote. That earned him a strange look from Scott, making the alpha roll his eyes at him. Seriously, they acted like he lived in the Dark Ages or something, seeming constantly amazed by his use and knowledge of modern day technology.
"He'll get dressed. I have a 'no nudity in the kitchen' rule. We're not savages for fuck's sake.", Stile called from the kitchen. "And I'm making dinner for everyone, so fight nice.".
"But my homework.", Scott complained to no one as Derek got up to locate his hidden cache of clothing.
"So go look for it. It can't be that far.", Stiles paused long enough to shoo Scott out of the door. "Go. I'll keep a plate hot for you.".
-
Actually, it turned out to be quite far, taking into consideration supernatural speed coupled with human creativity as well as the little know fact that wolves can, in fact, climb trees. Especially sneaky werewolves with a vendetta armed with a stolen backpack full of chemistry homework.
Not surprisingly, the excuse of 'Stile's dog hid my homework' didn't go over well with Mr. Harris for either of them.
"You had to say something, didn't you? You know Harris hates me. It wasn't my fault that Derek was a tool and threw your bag up a tree. I was making meatloaf, remember? Meatloaf, I might add, that you ate and tried fighting Derek over the last piece.", Stiles stared down the clock like that was going to make detention go by any faster. "I was just an innocent bystander in all this.".
"Owner responsibility?", Scott shrugged, the unsympathetic bastard. "And he didn't just throw it up a tree. Actually I don't know how he got it up there that high.". The branches had been too small and slight to support even his lesser weight so Scott had to resort to dinging the backpack loose from a lower branch by chucking pinecones at it. It had left his backpack and hands sticky and strongly smelling of pine sap. To add insult to injury, Scott was pretty sure Derek had rubbed his balls on it if the heavy stench of Alpha musk was anything to go by.
"I'm going to tell him to just eat it next time.", Stiles grumbled into his hoodie's sleeve. Detention was pure torture for his poor distracted mind, his brain having already processed and catalogued everything in the room several times over. Now it was just bored and a bored Stiles was a dangerous thing indeed.
"Isn't, you know, kinda weird though?", Scott prodded Stiles in the side, his own hesitancy making the young werewolf nervous.
"No.", Stiles answered simply, going back to staring death wishes at the clock.
"No?", Scott didn't like or expect short answers from Stiles. They confused him more than the long winded ones Stiles was famous for.
"No. Would you like me to say it in Spanish? No.", Stiles sighed, getting frustrated on so many different levels. Scott's unwillingness to leave the matter alone, Harris glaring venomously at him like Stiles was the bane of the chemistry teacher's existence, and his own crushing boredom were really starting to wear on his patience, which he really didn't have a lot of at the best of times. Stubbornness he had in spades but patience? Not so much.
Stiles cut his mental ramblings short when he realized that Scott was talking to him again. "….it's Derek and he's….", Scott was floundering for appropriate words again. "Dude! It's Derek. That's kinda messed up.".
"Not really. He was born a werewolf so who's to say he hasn't spent more time as a wolf than a guy.", Stiles mused. Derek did seem more comfortable in his animal form and if he was right, it was explain a hell of a lot why Derek was so bad with people and words. Like a dog with a bone, Stiles intending the pun, Scott was fixated on one thing and one thing only, failing to see the bigger picture.
"You have a naked guy pretending to be your dog.", Scott said flatly in a tone that state that his argument was proven and thus done.
"Not really. He's not there most of the time.", Stiles countered easily. Scott should really know better by now than to use that kind of tone of finality with him. "It's mostly for when Dad's home."
"So Derek's not there right now? He's not at your house?", Scott asked confused. He had some sort weird vision of Derek waiting by the door for Stiles that made his brain hurt.
"I have no idea and I don't care if he is or not. Why is this freaking you out?", Stiles sighed. The clock hated him. An inanimate object had gained just enough self awareness to actually despise him and seek vengeance upon him by stopping time itself.
"I don't know. The Alpha who likes to bite misfits and turn them into werewolves is pretending to be my best friend's pet dog. Nothing to worry about at all.", Scott managed to pout and grump all at the same time. Stiles thought it was actually an impressive skill.
"And you're a werewolf going to high school and in a dangerously codependent relationship with a huntress in training whose family wants to end you in more gruesome and painful ways than you or I can possibly imagine.", Stiles countered without even trying because their life. "Remind me what normal looks like.".
"You really thinks it's dangerously codependent?", Scott asked.
"If that's all you got from that, then your answer Scott is 'yes'.", Stiles rolled his eyes, because seriously, their life. "Her Dad wants to use your skin as a rug for his fireplace. What about that sounds healthy to you?".
"Whatever.", Scott dismissed, taking the easy way out. "Fine but we're not doing homework over at your house anymore.".
"Fair enough. I'm not doing it with or over at Allison's either.", Stiles laid down his own ground rules. He so didn't need to watch Scott and Allison try to suck each other's face off anymore than he had to already.
"At least she doesn't hide my homework.", Scott grinned, his expression all soft and dopey like always got whenever he spoke or thought about Allison.
"She doesn't have to. It still doesn't get done.", Stiles snorted.
"Yeah.", Scott said, sounding like he was in a daze, his brown eye wide and unfocused. Stiles made a face at the ceiling, wondering why he even bothered being surprised by Scott's total disconnect from reality around him whenever Allison was mentioned.
"You're thinking about her right now, aren't you?", Stiles waited for the exact right moment to strike.
"…..Yeah.", Scott cooed dreamily. He jumped high enough that he almost fell out of his seat when Stiles slapped the back of his head.
"Puny human- one. Werewolf- a big fat zero. Take that super senses.", Stiles grinned in triumph at the success of his sneak attack. "Like I was saying, dangerously codependent relationship so don't worry about Derek. You, my friend, have got to get your priorities straight.".
"It's still weird.", Scott grumbled, rubbing the back of his head, not that it actually hurt anything more than his pride.
"Heard, dully noted, and ignored. Great talk there though, buddy.", Stiles went back to silently cursing the existence of the clock whose hands he swore had not moved at all. The damn thing probably needed new batteries or an exorcism. Probably both with his luck.
Psssh. His life.
-
More to come? Maybe? Cookies?