Chapter Six
Get Off My Son
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"Sometimes bad things have to happen before good things can."
-Becca Fitzpatrick
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Stiles swore. "Get him upstairs!" He barked as he ran to the window. It was a ten-minute drive from the police station. Kate Argent was supposed to be in San Francisco.
When the pups didn't move he shouted again, "My room is the second door on the right, I need you to go into my bath and run the shower and blast some music. And don't talk. If you guys talk or move or make any noise and she finds you, she'll kill us." He paused and they didn't move, "GO!" He shouted, and pointed to the quickly made their way up the stairs.
The sound of the pipes and Florence and the Machine came a moment before the doorbell went off. Stiles cursed and ran his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath and closed the trunk before pushing is up against a wall in the living room.
Breath, just breath. The last thing Stiles needed was a panic attack. The door rung again and Stiles plastered a fake, but convincing, smile to his face. He opened the door and cheerfully greeted the woman on his porch, "Ms. Argent! How was San Francisco?"
"Great! Thanks for asking!" She paused, "Aren't you going to let me in?"
Shit. "Oh, sorry." He laughed, but it came out way to nervous.
The woman stepped in, her hair darkened to a brown without the dying sun casting a golden glow on it.
Stiles took a deep breath and moment for a silent prayer. Then turned around to face the killer in his home.
"My dad said you needed paperwork?"
"Yeah, he said it would be on the dining room table," Would have been nice of him to tell his son that. "Is someone in the shower?"
"Yeah, my friend's shower head broke and her dad has yet to fix it."
Kate raised an eyebrow, "Her?"
"Yeah, friend from school," Stiles laughed and rubbed the back of his head, "She might be in there a while, so, paperwork."
Stiles led Kate to the dining room and picked up the clearly labeled folder on the table and handed it to her.
Jeez, thanks a lot for the warning pops.
"Anything else?"
She shook her head, "That's it." She walked back the way she came, Stiles at her heels, and then she stopped. Her gaze was hard at the chest, the one with all the magic he knew in it.
"What's that?" She asked walking to it. She bent down and traced the iron symbol on the top. A Wiccan symbol. "It looks old."
"My mother liked to go antique shopping," He lied.
Kate didn't believe it, "What's in it, Stiles?" She turned and smiled, fear ran up and down Stiles' spine like mallets on a marimba. He didn't answer, he couldn't.
"What's in it, Stiles," She repeated.
"My mother's wedding dress." He blurted out
Kate's face got sullen. She looked human, like a normal woman. Age crept up in her eyes and her body got really still, really quickly. Stiles didn't know if she was going to kill him or break down crying.
"Sorry for you loss." Then Kate was out of there like a bat out of hell.
It was odd, seeing Kate Argent almost human. Almost. Because, no matter her face, it was clear in Stiles' mind she was a monster worse than any werewolf out there.
Stiles slumped to the floor, No Light, No Light blasted from upstairs and after a while Erica sneaked down the stairs.
The boy laughed, clever girl she was. Erica stuck her head in the shower to get wet hair then she rolled up her pants and slipped her bra straps off her shoulders before wrapping a towel around herself.
She looked like she just got out of a shower.
The she-wolf saw that Stiles was alone and unwrapped the towel and hung it on the banister and redid her bra straps.
She sat down on the stairs behind Stiles. "Are you ok?"
"I'm fine. Aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, and constant, overwhelming, crushing fear something terrible is about to happen."
"What's going on?"
Stiles shrugged, "The world's ending. The balance is off, people are dying, the bad guys are winning. I'm scared, okay?"
Erica wrapped her arms around him, cuddling her head in the crook of his neck. It was warm, safe, brothers in arms sharing a moment.
"I don't want you running around, Erica. Its not safe anymore."
Her voice was muffled "I know, Batman."
"You should come home."
"I will if Der will."
"Der?"
Erica propped her chin on Stiles' shoulder, "He seems lonely."
"His family's with BHR." The blonde nodded. "I don't know what's wrong with Derek. I think wolf's bane is clogged up in his knee and I don't know how to get it out without risking bleeding him out…"
"You could call Deaton,"
"My dad will be home soon, he'll figure stuff out."
Erica nodded then stood, dragging Stiles with her then walking up the stairs, "Derek wants to talk."
The pair opened the door to Stiles' room and the boy faced planted on his bed. Damn he was tired.
Erica opened the bath door and motioned for the boys to get out. Isaac and Boyd were awkwardly standing by the window and Erica helped Derek up. He stood, leaning on the doorframe for support. Erica read his body language well enough to know he didn't want her by him so she sat on the bed by Stiles.
"Who are you?" The older man asked. Stiles rolled over and sat up before yawning like something that resembles a baby kitten.
"Stiles," And another yawn.
"What are you? You're no human."
Without missing a beat Stiles replied, "An abominable snowman. Its more of a seasonal thing though."
Derek lunged (pretty quickly for a guy with a bum knee) and pushed him to the bed. Stiles screamed and kicked, but Derek held fast. No one could hear the door open between Stiles and Erica screaming, and Derek yelling, and Isaac and Body trying to pull Derek off of Stiles.
"What's going on here!" Yelled John, gun out and aimed at Derek.
Derek looked down at Stiles "Your dad's a cop!" Then he shot a death glare at Erica, "You sent me to a cop's house!"
John sighed, "Mr. Hale, please get off my son. I work for Beacon Hills Rebellion. Your family's worried, we should probably get going" Then he put his gun down.
A faint smile came to Derek's lip when John's heart never skipped a beat.
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There, that wasn't too much a wait was it? I'm getting better, aren't I?
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XOXO
Luna