Hey Chillins! Sorry if I never replied to a review or a PM, Gmail mail thought it would be cute to put emails from FFN in a spam folder. I normally get to stuff like that pretty quickly but shit happens. Also sorry for the ungodly amount if grammar mistakes last chapter, I reread it and was like "who the fuck wrote this piece of shit" pardon my French and all. I replaced and edited all the last chapters (and by me I mean ElayneTraemane, I kind of just skimmed them and went 'that looks about right' so special thanks to her) . Anyway summers here so hopefully longer chapters and more updates will join it.
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Chapter Five
An Actual New Chapter
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"This is going to sound crazy, but... from the moment I first set eyes on you I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."
― Leigh Fallon, Carrier of the Mark
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Stiles was lying on his bed in his room. Not the room with the things from his mother, not the room with hard brick, cold metal, and concrete, not the room with a view of a fairy groom forest of redwoods, or the one with a metal wall decorated with photos.
No, this was the blue one at his dad's house far away from the BHR HQ. This was one with carpeted floors and a desk by the wall.
The room...the room held conflicted feelings for Stiles. Thoughts of him mom, memories of sleep overs with Scott, moments of bedtimes stories with his dad. It gave Stiles a sense of safety overlapped in pain.
John Stilinski dropped his son off here about an hour or two ago when the school called about Stiles' absences. Stiles' just wanted to be withdrawn, it was one of the many things that started an argument between father and son then was promptly pushed under the rug.
Like Stiles being a part of the BHR; John… John wanted his son to be safe, and Stiles understood that.
But was there such a thing as safe for his kind? Better Living By Science, a company focused in the genes of the supernatural, foresaw a story of genetic warfare and even more carnage than today, all for the supposed good. If they could find the genes that made someone a werewolf, a witch, or a fey- there would be no hiding.
Stiles didn't have super strength, he didn't have glowing eyes or even fast healing. But he was as much as a part of this as anyone, as Scott or Allison. He had both a right and a duty to fight for his people, even if they were a dying race.
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Derek laid across the back seat of a stolen Camaro with his feet resting on Isaac's lap. He almost felt bad. Almost.
All he wanted to do was sleep. The hospital was a close call, the officers weren't looking for him though which was really good.
Erica drove like an old lady, which was good, mostly. She was actually obeying all the speed laws, which got them a few suspicious looks from the locals, but if they were pulled over by the crops it would mean the death of all of them. The pups would probably get the firing squad, he would probably get shot in the food with wolfs bane then put on a pedestal so hunters could watch him die slowly on their lunch break. Seems like an Argent way of doing things.
And Derek would know.
Erica made a left and soon the cute storefronts turned into houses, "Where are we?"
"Beacon Hills." Derek never remembered getting that far away from San Francisco. He had grown up here.
Boyd turned his head and look at Erica, "Are we stopping at Stiles'?"
"We aren't stopping." Derek growled. They should be going about 150 down an interstate highway to Canada.
Erica ignored him, "Yeah, he'll light up like its Christmas morning all wrapped up in a sexy package,"
"We're. Not. Stopping."
"You're not driving."
"Erica-"
"Look! We're here!" then she pulled in a driveway next to a blue house.
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Stiles poked his out of the window when he heard a car pull into his driveway. It was slick, black, and mostly likely a sports car, the kind of car a rich guy would drive to pick up his mistress.
Stiles expected it to back out and turn around but then the engine shut off and a blonde got out.
Erica from school… Erica the werewolf.
Stiles cursed and run out of his bedroom, taking the stairs down three at a time before he opened his front door so quickly the glass rattled.
"What the hell are you doing here!" Stiles hissed while leaning over the iron rail on his front steps.
Erica smiled. Stiles hate that smile. That was the smile that got him and Danny Mahealani in a closet at a party (though that was actually kind of nice) and the smile that broke up Lydia Martin and Jackson Whittemore, Stiles did some counting, the seventh time?
"Christmas came early!" She laughed and Stiles just noticed Boyd and Isaac help get something out of the car.
Someone actually, Derek Fucking Hale. Damn straight it was Christmas. Then it occurred to him that Derek was a wanted fugitive with a nationwide manhunt going down on him, and by wanted he meant the Argents wanted him dead… and he was at Stiles' house.
"Get him in here! The neighbors might see!" Just then did Mrs. Joe, the crazy cat lady who lived next door, walked out.
"Sonny?" She called while Isaac and Body lifted a half asleep 6'0 foot man up the front walk. The old woman squinted and looked at Derek "Is that the man on TV?"
The pups looked at Stiles, then at Derek, then at Stiles again.
Stiles laughed, "Of course not! This is my cousin…" He paused and thought of a name, "Miguel?" Stiles whipped his head to Isaac and Boyd and through a clenched jaw whispered, "Get his ass inside. Now."
Erica waved a goodbye and entered just before Stiles wished the old lady a good bye.
Isaac and Boyd dumped the older wolf face up on the couch unceremoniously.
"What's wrong with him?" Stiles asked. Derek was sweating (all over his couch, now he was thankful he was live and here but did he have no manners?) and he was looking kind of pale… and smelt like death.
"He was beaten in the knee with a bat. He said it was mountain ash."
"Are the pieces still in him?"
Erica shook her head, "He removed them a few hours ago, he should be getting better right?"
Stiles left the room after sending an order to move Derek to the kitchen. Stiles ran to his father's office and soon returned with a hard wood trunk that he was dragging behind him.
Isaac propped Derek up against the cabinets before sitting next to him on the cold tile floor. The dirty blonde placed a hand on the older wolf's shoulder to help steady him.
"Left knee," Erica supplied helpfully.
Stiles nodded a thanks and rolled up the pant leg, which should probably be thrown in the wash along with everything, else Derek was wearing.
Stiles opened the chest and laughed to himself as the babies awed at all the bottled potions and spell book and other funky tools of the trade. "What did you say you were again?" Erica asked.
"Deaton says I should say 'just a normal high school student'"
Stiles pulled out a sharp knife from a pouch and he placed it on the ground. Stiles placed a hand on Derek's knee and felt around. "He got all the wood chips out?"
Erica nodded, "I think so."
Stiles pursed his lips together. "Has he always been this pale?"
"Since we picked him up, the sweating's new though." Isaac answered.
"The bat might have been soaked in wolfsbane…" Stiles was perplexed.
Derek opened his eyes and looked at Stiles, "What are you doing?"
The moment Stiles made eye contact it was like the world stopped, the only spaced around him was that of which he shared with Derek. His eyes were beautiful, like sour grapes off the vine mixed with warm dirt and a blue sky. Time itself no longer existed.
It took a moment before Stiles was brought back to life and it wasn't to answer the question but to a ring from his pocket. He pulled out his phone. His father texted him; 'Kate Argent is on her way to pick up paper work.'
They couldn't catch a fucking break.
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Yeah I know its hella short. Really sorry guys, schools been a mess with finals last week and I just now got the laptop out. I'm terrible, I know. One of these days I'll write a long chapter and you guys will be like 'da hell is this'.
Anyway, as always, leave a review! PLEASE!
Extra special loved filled thanks to ElayneTraemane. She's amazing and I love her.
XOXO
Luna