"So," Laura starts, after she successfully steals a handful of fries off of Derek in retaliation, "I know it's not your preferred place to be, but, how are you liking the past so far?"

Stiles makes a face, "Besides the fact that I have no clue what I'm doing, no clue why I'm doing it, or have the any idea of what is going on, I have to say it's pretty boring," Stiles takes a large gulp of coke and shrugs nonchalantly, "I mean, so far I've fainted and been kidnapped twice. Pretty much the regular gig."

Derek and Laura gape at him. She gets a disapproving look on her face and demands, "You make a habit of getting kidnapped?" She turns to Derek and punches him in the shoulder, not even blinking as he flinches back and hisses in pain, "Why are you letting your pack member get kidnapped, you dickhead!"

Stiles tries really hard to not be amused at Derek's flabbergasted expression, "He's not even my pack member right now!" He yelps, indigently.

"God, see, this is why I'm going to be the next alpha!"

"Are you sure it's not because you're a bossy bi-" Derek mutters under his breath, only to squawk loudly as she punches him again.

And then he loses it, laughter bubbling up out of him like happiness as he chokes on a drink of his soda. He tries not to think about how this is the first time he's felt so light in what feels like years, and lets the feeling roll through him. Laura and Derek soon join in until they're all red in the face and leaning on the table for support.

When they calm down, Laura very politely says, "You're still a dick, though, 'Rek."

"Better a dick than a bitch."

"A bitch is a dog and dogs go bark and bark grows on trees and trees are a part of nature and nature is beautiful so fuck you very much."

Stiles places his head in his hands and groans loudly, suddenly realizing that 2007 is nothing but a hotbed of embarrassing internet quotes, "Of all the time periods," He whines to himself, "Why the one with bad memes?"

"What's a meme?" Laura whispers to Derek loudly.

Derek just shrugs.

While Stiles sits, bemoaning the loss of all of his favorite pop culture, Laura and Derek talk about boring, normal, nonwerewolfy things. Like school. Stiles graduated with a 3.9 and still insist that if he hadn't missed two finals by tracking the movements of a troll with Boyd and Allison he would have even beat Lydia for the spot of valedictorian.

As it was, he just had to settle for fifth best and the knowledge of the woods around Beacon Hills being safe for another week.

"Oh, is Harris a dick here, too?" Stiles interjects as Derek whines about a Chemistry test tomorrow.

Laura groans, "God, that asshole is still teaching in six years? That is probably the worst news, even counting everything you said yesterday."

Stiles shrugs lightly, not mentioning that Laura is indirectly asking about the future, and shakes his head, "No he, uh, he died. Ritually sacrificed, actually. Was pretty gruesome."

Stiles avoids looking in Derek's direction as he remembers Ms. Blake. He shudders lightly, seeing her grotesque face twist and hiss in his mind. Either way, the Hales don't notice his change in mood.

While he very deliberately rips off small bits of a napkin, silently wondering how long it's going to take for that caffeine to kick in, Laura and Derek talk about Derek's water polo team. Apparently they're doing well. Stiles doesn't really care, where he's from the team sucks and water polo had never been his thing but hearing Derek talk about swimming makes him remember the incident with the kanima. Stiles tries not to think about how weird it is to remember experiences with a person who hasn't had them yet.

Considering how good at swimming Derek must be, Stiles vaguely wonders how much it must have stung to not be able to do it that entire time.

"I feel bad for Mr. Lahey and everything, but our new coach is way better." Derek says with a smile, and his eyes are almost sparkling. Stiles resolutely does not compare him to an anime character, too strung up on the other half of that sentence.

Mr. Lahey, as in Isaac's dad? Stiles bites his lip as he remembers pictures of Isaac's dad with the swim team, pictures of his body after it was torn apart by the kanima. Isaac's brother must have died this year. Shit. Stiles' eyes widen as he realizes that Isaac is going to start getting abused soon.

Isaac's dad is going to start locking him in a fucking meat locker.

His heart must speed up at the idea of it, because both Laura and Derek pause to look over at him. Stiles has never hated someone as much as he hates that demon right now. Sending him back in time, leaving him surrounded by all of these horrible things about to happen to his friends and he's not even able to stop it? Stiles feels his blood boil, and he remembers that this is the year that Scott's dad leaves him, and Lydia's parents file for divorce.

That his mom dies.

That last thought feels like a sledgehammer is rammed straight into his chest.

There's a hand on his shoulder and someone is talking but Stiles can't even think beyond the fact that somewhere his mom still might be alive.

"What's the date?" He demands roughly, shaking off the hand. His voice is thick, like he'd been crying or holding his breath, but he doesn't care because his mom could still be alive.

Laura is perched on his side of the booth now but Stiles doesn't remember that happening. She gives him a weird look, "It's June 22nd. Does it matter?"

Stiles grits his teeth, and he can't stop seeing his mom's smile as she handed him apple slices, can't block out the sound of her laugh whenever he jumped from topic to topic. His hands shake, and he pushes at Laura until she moves out of the booth, giving him space to escape.

"I-I have to go," He says, distracted, not even looking at either of the Hales.

His mind is buzzing, dates and hospital visits flashing before his eyes. His mom would have only been admitted a few weeks ago. She'll still be relatively healthy. His hands are shaking now, so he balls them and thrust them into his pockets almost angrily.

He's hardly out the door when there's a hand on his elbow, jerking him back. Stiles follows the movement, annoyed, and sees Derek holding him in place.

"What?" He growls. His body is almost vibrating with the need to get out, to go see his mom.

"What's up with you?" Derek asks, scowling, "You're running out of here like a bat out of hell."

Stiles groans, hands twisting in his pockets. He doesn't have time for this!

"Every minute I'm here is another minute she's dying!" Stiles yells, frustrated and a second away from pulling at his hair.

Laura's suddenly there, nudging Derek out of place. She has a wallet in one of her hands and it's digging into his arm with her tight grip. Her face is a mask of calm and her eyes capture his and try to hold him still, "Stiles," She says, and her voice is slow and careful, like he's a scared animal, "Who's dying?"

"My mom," He mumbles, distracted. In his head, he's routing the closest route to the hospital. It's only thirty minutes away if he runs.

Derek and Laura both share a look of realization, finally matching the Stiles in front of them with the boy in Cora's class.

"Stiles Stilinksi," Derek says softly to Laura, who nods in acknowledgment.

Stiles isn't really surprised that Derek and Laura know about his mom, but it's mostly because he can't bring himself to care right now. He can still remember all of the casseroles and bun cakes he and his dad had subsided on for six months after she died, like the entirety of Beacon Hills didn't know how to handle loss other than to shove food at it.

"Seriously," He says quickly, trying to squirm out of the firm grip Laura has on his biceps, "I really, really need to go, okay? Like, right now."

But Laura and Derek don't even listen to him, already trying to coral him back to the car. He fights against their holds but werewolves and they manage to buckle him in the car without too much of a scene. As soon as they close his door he's undoing his seat belt and scrabbling for the door handle but by the time he has a grip on it Laura already has her finger on the driver side control lock.

"You need to calm down, Stiles," She says, in that same calm tone. It sounds manual and mechanic and it sets his teeth on edge.

"I don't need to do anything but get to the freaking hospital." Stiles snaps, glaring at her. "You need to either let me out or take me there."

Laura's backing out of the parking lot, not even looking at him, when Derek says, almost ashamed, "We're taking you back to Deaton's."

"Uh, no. No you're not." Stiles says quickly, "Hospital. That's where we're going."

"Stiles," Laura says quietly, like she's in pain, "You don't understand. We can't do that."

"I don't understand? You're the one who doesn't understand. Laura! It's my mom!"

"Yeah, well now you know how I felt when you told me my entire family dies in a few months," Laura snorts without humor.

Stiles feels a burning anger in his chest at the words. His hands are shaking again as he grits out, "So, what, now you're punishing me? Is that it?"

Laura looks offended and hurt at the words, mouth dropping open as soon as they're out and yells back angrily, "No, you idiot! We're helping you!" She looks away from the road and gestures to him, "Look at you! You're shaking and can hardly even breathe, okay? You need to calm down right now. I'm not letting you go anywhere near that hospital if you can't control yourself."

"I swear to god, Laura, I can and will fry your battery unless you let me out of this car right now." Stiles glares at her, and as the words slip out he can feel his magic react, warming along the veins in his arms to his fingertips, little zips of electricity cackling in the webbing of his fingers, prepared to do what he needs.

"You can't just go storming into a hospital demanding to see your mom! You're from the future, Stiles! She wouldn't even recog-"

A loud siren cuts Laura off, red and blue lights flashing in the back window, but the damage has already been done. Stiles feels like she just threw a bucket of ice water on him, and even the warmth of his magic has left him. He sits frozen in his seat, staring blankly at her as the words twist in his mind.

In a second all of the fight drains out of him, leaving him to sit there and god, he absolutely hates this. He feels exactly like the eleven year old boy he's supposed to be in 2007, weak and helpless and so fucking lost. He can't even be mad at Laura, because she's absolutely right, because the thought of his mom not knowing who he is would definitely hurt more than not seeing her at all.

Knowing that doesn't make it hurt any less, though.

Laura glares at him out of the side of her eye and pulls over to the shoulder of the road. She reaches over him and pulls a piece of paper out of the glove compartment, huffing out an annoyed breath.

"Laura," Derek hisses in a whisper from the back. "It's the Deputy."

She looks in the driver side mirror and lets out a low barrage of, "Shit, shit, shit, shit," She whispers to herself, and then looks over at Stiles in pity, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

Which just makes Stiles sit back in a sort of confusion, because yeah, the Deputy is kind of a dick but it's not like he's Satan with a ticket pad, or anything. It isn't until there's a familiar face crouching in front of Laura's window that Stiles understands.

And when he does, he feels like he's going to barf all over her dashboard.

How can his dad look so old and so young at the same time?

His heart slams against his chest instantly, the stuttering beats pulsing throughout his body. The shaking in his hands gets worse until his muscles feel sore, like he's been holding up weights all day, and his breathing comes in pants of breath, like his tired arms have dropped them on his chest.

The erratic breathing does nothing good for his stitches, which pull on his side and make his breathing even worse and the pain is like a needle poked between his ribs. Stiles can hear people talking, but he can't make out the words and suddenly his door is being thrown open and someone is pulling him out of the car. His legs feel like jelly and all he can manage to do is slide gracelessly to the floor before he's leaning to the side and vomits up the lunch he just ate.

There's a voice in his ear, and it sounds familiar but he can't even see and he's still shaking, still struggling to breathe against the agony in his chest. It takes ten minutes of sitting on the side of the road, but the warm hand wrapped around his shoulders slowly brings him back.

"Sorry," He croaks around a lump in his throat. He tries to laugh, but his eyes are closed and his skin feels clammy and nothing about this is funny.

Did he really just have an anxiety attack? It was building since he realized his mom was still alive, he knew, but that didn't make it any better. Stiles tilts his head back and bangs it against the side of the car lightly, groaning. His limbs feel stiff and he isn't even going to try moving them.

"It's alright," A voice says, and it only takes a few seconds for it to click that it's his dad's voice. It isn't' as assuring as it should have been, but he fights against the next wave of panic, "My son gets panic attacks like that all the time."

Stiles laughs without humor and finally manages to crack open an eyelid. Against the setting sun, he can only see half of his dad's face, set into a familiar half smile. Laura and Derek are standing behind him, Laura wringing her hands and Derek scratching the back of his neck uselessly.

"I feel bad for him then," Stiles settles on saying, wincing at how his voice still sounds, "They suck."

His dad laughs and pats him on the back. "Yeah," He agrees easily, "That they do."

"I didn't know he was having one," Laura says. She sounds almost quiet now, voice too soft for the yelling match they had only a while ago. "I'm really sorry, sir. I never would have made him get in the car if I knew."

She's looking at his dad, but Stiles feels like the words are for him.

"It's alright, Laura. No one was hurt, but someone could have been and that's what's important." He says, and then looks at Stiles, and Stiles half expects him to make some comment about how Stiles should have known better, but his expression stern, "Next time you're not feeling too well do me a favor, kid? Talk to someone. We can't help if we don't know what's going on."

He knows that it's the residual left hanging on him from his attack, knows he wouldn't have done it otherwise, but the words make him break out in a wave of crying. It's just too much and he feels strung out to his limits. First hearing about his mom, and now his dad in front of him, caring about him but looking at him like he doesn't even know who he is? Stiles just wants to crawl into his bed and sleep for a few weeks. But he can't because his bed isn't his right now and it won't be for six years and everything sucks and he just wants everything to stop.

Freaking Deputy Stilinksi offers Stiles a small smile and stands up to face Laura.

"I'm letting you kids off with a warning," He says, "But don't let me catch you speeding like that again. And you," He turns back to Stiles, "Make sure to keep your seat belt on. And never get in a car if you're feeling an attack coming on, got it?"

Stiles already knows that, has had it drilled into him when his dad first gave him his car keys, but just settles for nodding.

The radio on his hip crackles back to life and Stiles' dad sighs. "Duty calls," He smiles familiarly, and makes a comment to Derek and Laura about telling someone named Randall hello for him before walking back to his truck.

The Hale's are on him in an instant, crouching down in front of him. Derek makes a face at the barf but beyond a nose twitch he say anything about it. He places a comforting hand on his shoulder and squeezes.

Laura tugs him into a hug before he can even blink and is busting out apologies faster than Stiles can keep up.

"It's alright," He says, though it really isn't, "You were right."

Her face twist with guilt, "I was just trying to avoid all of," She waves a hand, "This. I mean, you saw how you handled seeing Derek. Hell, look at how you acted when you saw your dad." She pulls back and bites her lip, "I just don't want you to be hurt anymore than you are by this and I'm really sorry for making that choice for you."

"You're right," He says again, because he's just too exhausted to say anything else. "But I seriously need to get back to Deaton's now. I feel like I'm going to crash any second."

Laura nods resolutely and her and Derek quickly help him back into the car.

The drive back is too quiet, an awkward atmosphere in the air. Stiles would try to crack it, but his limbs feel like jelly and his throat is still scratchy. Derek helps him out of the car when they get to the apartment building and tells Laura to keep the car running.

Stiles stumbles through the doors and to the elevator, Derek following after him. Once the doors close, he blurts, "I'm sorry. We really were just doing what we thought was best."

He shrugs and leans against the wall. "I understand that," He says, choosing to stare at his shoes than at Derek. "It's just... I haven't seen her in six years, you know? I didn't ever think I would get the chance to see her again. I just wasn't prepared for it, I guess."

Derek nods, like he understands, but Stiles knows he really doesn't. In six years, Derek will understand, and they'll have conversations at length about dead family members and empty places in their hearts and homes, but this Derek only sees death as a thing to come in the future, not something affecting him right now.

"Are you going to break out of here and go see her as soon as we leave?" Derek asks, a small upturn in the corner of his lips hinting at a smile.

"Probably not," Stiles sighs, "Seeing my dad was hard enough. And he just... The way he looked at me like I was a complete stranger hurt." Stiles gestures over to where Derek is standing, "Even the way you look at me like you don't know me hurts. I don't know if I'd be able to handle her doing it, too."

It's quiet for the rest of the elevator ride, but, unlike the car, this one isn't nearly as awkward.

When they get to Deaton's door, Derek asks, "Are you going to avoid us, now?"

Stiles feels himself smirk without meaning to, "Probably, but I doubt that'll stop Laura."

He opens the door and Derek turns away from Stiles, grinning. He can hear the elevator ding, and the sound of Derek stepping on it, and then silence. Stiles closes the door and considers the merits of just crawling over to the his pullout couch, because his knees feel like they're going to buckle any second, but manfully makes the long walk to the bed.

It takes him a while to fall asleep, body still thrumming with too much adrenaline from his attack, and he's sore in places that ache whenever he shifts on the bed, but when he finally closes his eyes, he doesn't even dream.

AN - since like 4 people have asked me about Stiles' tattoos I made a thing using the least amount of effort possible

the-candy-van. tumblr. com post/58584925934/nasbab-stiles