So, this is the last chapter if I can't get another one up before Monday. I'll be shipping off to Basic in the next couple days. So if I don't post again before Monday, I'll see you all at the end of November.
Disclaimer: I own nothing!
Chapter 11: Heartbreak and the Hales
"Stiles," Danny said, scratching his quill across his parchment with only minimal interest. He'd already finished his essay for Professor Calavera and had resorted to doodling along the edges, docked grades be damned.
"What's up?" Stiles asked, shoving his second roll of parchment away to start on the last of his homework. He had his feet propped up on Danny's knees and reached blindly for Danny's drink.
Danny looked up, studying Stiles. He pushed his drink towards him, cheek resting in his hand. "Let's go on a date."
"Absolutely. When and where?" Stiles glanced up quickly, throwing Danny a wide, sparkling grin before returning to his homework. He growled derisively at the subject.
"Right now. Hogsmeade."
Stiles fumbled his quill, splattering ink across the table, but somehow missing their parchment. "Like, literally, right now?" he asked, gaping at his boyfriend.
"Yes, just as you are. We'll get cloaks and go," Danny said.
Glancing between his clothes that he'd happily dubbed his hobo attire, baggy sweatpants and a ridiculous crop top that showed off his blindingly white stomach, and his boyfriend who sported a muscle shirt and tight fitting pants, he stammered, "I've been up for thirty-six hours. I took a shower more than twenty-four hours ago. I'm hobo-licious right now."
"That's fine. So am I," Danny said, smiling as Stiles glowered at him, "I've been up with you this entire time, and that shower was shared. It'll be fine."
"Danny, you look like a supermodel no matter what you wear or how long you've seemingly been awake," Stiles pointed out, plucking at his shirt.
"And you look fine." Stiles didn't answer. "If I give you time to brush your teeth and put on a pair of pants, then will you go? I'll get you a peppermint toad from Honeydukes."
Stiles grinned. "Well, if that's the case, let's go!" Gathering their things, he sprinted from the Great Hall, Danny close behind shaking his head.
From across the Hall, Derek watched the pair tear out of the room, grins spread across their faces. Beside him, Scott groaned over his homework. He and Stiles had been separated earlier in the day because they simply couldn't concentrate. Now, Derek was stuck with him, and still managed to listen in on Stiles' conversation.
"Scott," Derek said, turning to the other teen slowly making his way to the floor.
"What?" Scott mumbled, head firmly pressed to the table.
"Let's go to Hogsmeade."
Scott groaned loudly. "But I still have half a roll before I'm done with Professor Calavera's essay," he whined, "And then I have Harris' work and my mom's too. Why do you want to go to Hogsmeade anyway?"
"Just get up and let's go. I'll help you when we get back," Derek shot back, dragging Scott to his feet.
"Ugh, fine!"
…..
"No, seriously, why are we here?" Scott grumbled into his cup of hot chocolate. Derek had laced it with a healthy dose of firewhiskey, and Scott was starting to feel it burn through his body. His pettiness was beginning to come out full force, but he knew that the cuddling would be coming quickly after if he continued drinking.
Derek, from behind a support beam, murmured, "Following Stiles and Danny." He peaked around the beam, watching the pair tramp through an early snow.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," Scott complained, leaning around Derek to confirm that that was exactly what they were doing. "Are you fucking kidding me? You know they can see you perfectly fine, right?"
Derek made only a vague noise to indicate that he'd heard Scott speak. Whether he'd comprehended his words or not was a different story. "They're going to the Shrieking Shack. Why does everybody go there?"
"Honestly, why don't you just tell Stiles that you like him and want to bend him over a table? It is literally that easy," Scott groused, following dutifully after Derek to make sure he didn't do something unfailingly stupid.
Derek stopped, turning wide, astonished eyes on Scott. "You don't know? I thought he'd have told you the day after it happened."
"Told me what?" Scott sighed, blinking slowly at him.
"I didn't bend him over a table."
Scott stared back at him blankly. "Okay, what does that have to do with this?"
"Scott," Derek emphasized, glaring at him.
For a long, hazy moment, Scott stared back. Finally, realization clicked almost audibly, his mouth popping open. "Oh! Then what the hell's the problem?! And I thought my dating life was screwed up."
"You don't have a dating life," Derek pointed out, falling further and further behind the happy couple they were trailing.
"You don't know that!" Scott cried loudly enough that it caught Danny and Stiles' attention, pulling them to a stop. Derek dragged Scott into the bushes, pushing his face into the snow to smother his mouth as the pair glanced around.
…..
"It's so pretty out here," Stiles crowed, licking melted chocolate from his fingers and grinning widely. "I could live out here." When Danny stayed silent, he glanced over to him. "Hey, what's the matter?" he asked, bumping hips with him.
Danny sighed, glancing over at Stiles. Turning, he asked straight out, "Stiles, how do you feel about me?"
Eyes going wide, Stiles spluttered, "Well, I really, really, really –I mean pretty seriously- like you. Sometimes, I even think I lo-"
Danny cut him off quickly. "Don't say that," he said sadly.
"Say what? That I think I love you? We've been dating for nearly a year now. I think I have the right to say that," Stiles snapped defensively, worry twisting his insides. If he'd put himself out there just for Danny to tell him that he didn't feel the same way, he didn't know what he'd do.
"No, because you're in love with someone else, not me," Danny told him.
Stiles gaped. "How can you say that? A year, Danny, a fucking year, and you're going to throw that in my face?"
"You know as well as I do that you've been in love with someone else since we started dating, probably even before then. Don't tell me that you aren't."
Stiles quickly snapped his mouth shut, staring at Danny with pleading eyes.
Danny untwisted his fingers from Stiles, and stepped away. "I'm sorry, Stiles, but I can't be with you if your emotions are on someone else."
"Danny, don't do this, please," Stiles whispered, reaching for Danny's hands again. Tears burned the back of his eyes, and he just barely forced down a hiccup.
Pulling further away, Danny shook his head. "No, Stiles, I'm sorry. I just can't do it." Turning quickly before he could change his mind, he left Stiles falling apart and went to find Derek and Scott still arguing in a bush further up the path.
Dragging the unsuspecting Derek up, he slammed him hard against a tree, startling the pair. "Scott, you go comfort your best friend," Danny ordered, never taking his eyes from Derek.
"You knew the whole time?" Scott squeaked, hardly astonished, "I fucking told you, Derek! You can suck it!"
"Scott," Danny snarled, shooting an ugly glare at the other boy.
"Oh, right," Scott mumbled quickly, scurrying away down the path. He took off at a sprint, worry finally seizing him and pushing him toward his best friend.
Danny turned his gaze back to Derek. "I swear to Helga Hufflepuff, if you do not seize this opportunity I just set out for you, I will cut off your manhood, feed it to a dragon, and take Stiles as my wife. Do not fucking tempt me. I just hurt Stiles and myself so that you can make him happy. If you don't, mark my words, I will dish out on my threats. I will do terrible things to you," he snarled.
Releasing Derek's collar, he stormed back towards the castle, intent on drowning himself in alcohol, and coaxing Jackson into playing some very drunk quidditch with him. If they were lucky, one of them would end up in the Hospital Wing by the end of the night. Trying to rub away the heat behind his eyes, he tried not to think of what he might have just caused.
…..
The night was quiet, cool. The moon rose high in the sky, nearly full, gleaming in all its glory. "Mom, can we go for a run?" Stiles asked, turning to a woman to his right. She had brunette hair falling around her face in thick, soft curls. Her eyes were a startling blue. She looked like the gender bent version of Peter.
"I don't know, sweetheart," she said, glancing over her shoulder to Talia, "It's up to the alpha if we do or not."
Talia pursed her lips, glaring out the window. "I don't think that would be a good idea tonight. I've been smelling hunters for a few hours now. Argents. It's best we stay inside."
Stiles glowered at the door, his bottom lip poked out in a pout. "Why can't they just leave us alone? We haven't done anything. Nobody new has been turned. Nobody has died. I don't see why they have to keep trying to hurt us."
"Some of the Argents are worse than the others. Some follow a code, and then others don't. Let's just stay inside tonight. We'll take an extra-long run tomorrow," Talia promised him, stepping away from the window, letting the curtains fall shut.
Talia and the female Peter stepped away, ruffling his hair, moving into the living room.
Stiles glowered at the door, pulling the curtains aside to glare out into the night. "It's not fair," he grumbled.
He wasn't expecting the door to be blown open. He jumped back, out of the way of debris, but not quick enough as a thin cord snapped tight around his throat. A howl crawled up his throat passed the wire, ringing through the house.
A man laughed. "Good, you got a pup." Another wire snapped tight around his wrists, tying them together.
A woman's voice rose above the man's as he was pulled sharply forward into the face of Kate Argent. "Throw out the ash, make sure the others can't cross."
"Micah!" the woman from earlier shouted, slamming against the line of mountain ash. She snarled, her eyes glowing steel blue, claws and fangs raking against the wall. "Give him back to me, bitch!"
Kate tsk-ed, shaking her head. "Such bad manners. I would think you'd be kinder since I have one of your pups at my mercy."
Talia stood in the doorway to the living room, her eyes crimson, a snarl on her lips. She was already beginning to change. "You will release him." Her words were more animal than human.
"I think not," Kate laughed, smiling widely. She spun Stiles towards everyone who had gathered against the mountain ash line, all half transformed. She pressed a delicate blade to his throat. "I won't hurt this little crumpet of sunshine as long as every animal in your pack backs up and gets into the basement. Otherwise, I won't hesitate to carve his heart out."
The pack stared back at her, hackles raised in challenge. "Into the basement," Talia said, backing slowly towards the door. The rest followed hesitantly after her, ducking into the basement. Talia remained by the open door, hatred in her eyes.
"Set the next line!" Kate instructed, waiting for the men to throw down the next line before breaking the first and dragging Stiles across is. He hissed and snarled, struggling against her hold, but the cord only tightened around his throat. "Hold still or I will cut your throat," Kate hissed in his ear.
Stiles stilled in her hold, staring pleadingly at Talia.
"Get in the basement," Kate instructed, smiling widely at Talia. Glaring fixedly, Talia backed herself down a few steps. Kate broke the line, shoving Stiles through the door at Talia, and set another line. "Let's move out!" she shouted, moving back out the front door.
Stiles crashed hard into Talia's arms, the breath rushing from his lungs. Talia untangled the wide from his throat and wrists. "What are they going to do to us?" he asked, fear in his voice.
"I don't know," Talia whispered, pulling him down the stairs.
The scent of gasoline pressed in on his nostrils, overtaking any other smell. In an instant, flames came to life, rolling down the walls and across the floor. Screams rose high and sudden, overlaid with the laughter of the men and Kate Argent outside.
Stiles woke with a gasp, sweat slicking his skin. He reached out across his crumpled sheets, looking for the other body usually beside him, but his bed was empty. "Fuck," he whispered, scrubbing the back of his hand across his eyes.
What was wrong with his dreams? People being burned to death and transforming into some weird werewolf thing, packs and fucking Kate Argent. Couldn't he finally be rid of her? His skin burned like he'd been burning with them, and his throat and wrists throbbed where the cord had been tied around them.
His eyes popped wide, staring at the ceiling of his bed in shock. "Was that Peter in a dress?" he asked himself too loudly.
To his left, Jackson groaned. "Can't you have one night of full sleep? Go the fuck to bed, Stilinski, and stop spewing nonsense."
…..
"Go away," Stiles whined, bundling himself tighter in his comforter. On his dresser, the tip of his wand released a thick stream of blue smoke, leaving Scott coughing.
Waving away the smoke, Scott choked, "I didn't even know you could do that without even touching your wand. Jesus, you're emotional right now." He paused, slowly smacking his lips, eyebrows firmly pulled together. "It tastes like blueberries. You are messed up right now."
"Go away," Stiles repeated. A hand snaked out from under the covers, flapping it around and slapping at Scott.
"Hey, no need to get violent," Scott laughed.
"Then go away!"
Scott rolled his eyes. "You've been in here for a week. Peter has turned to tormenting Lydia, though that hasn't exactly worked out well for him. Our teachers are wondering how the hell you're still getting your homework done and turned in on time. I actually came in here for something important." He waited to see if that would get a rise out of his best friend, but nothing. "I came in here because Derek is missing."
"Why should I care?" Stiles finally grumbled, tightening the blanket around him like armor against the world.
"Maybe because all of the Hales are missing, not just Derek. Literally, Peter, Malia, Laura, Cora and Derek. They're all missing," Scott pointed out in exasperation.
Stiles sat up straight, blurry, sleep-deprived eyes focusing on his best friend. "Even Malia? What happened? Does anyone know where they might have gone?" he asked frantically, rubbing grit from his eyes.
Scott shook his head. "No, not at all. Today, during the post, they were each delivered an identical letter from the look of it, and after reading it, they all ran out. Malia, Laura and Cora were in tears. Derek and Peter looked pissed. Nobody knows where they are. We need everybody's help to look for them. We've got everybody ready, but you."
Throwing his covers away, Stiles changed into socially acceptable clothing. "I'm going to check the Divination Tower, then the woods! Someone should check the Room of Requirements, I think," Stiles called as he raced from the Slytherin dormitories, booking it toward the tower.
"Where could those idiots have gone?" Stiles mumbled to himself, taking the stairs two at a time. He was halfway up to the tower before he realized that none of them would remotely be anywhere in the castle. "Shit!" he snarled, turning and booking it back down the stairs.
Cora and Malia were most likely hiding somewhere in the woods working out to death, maybe even fighting each other to the death. Peter had probably taken a passageway into Hogsmeade, and immediately apparated to wherever he needed to go. Laura had most likely immediately jumped a broomstick and taken off. Stiles had a feeling that Derek had made his way into the Shrieking Shack to maybe break something.
Stiles groaned with realization. "Oh my fucking- Stupid, stupid Hales," he growled, rushing passed a curious Lydia. "I will strangle-"
"Stiles, where are you going?" Lydia asked on her way to the Room of Requirements, watching him rush towards the grounds of the castle.
"I'm going to go find an idiot before he breaks himself. Cover for me with the teachers if any come asking about me, please."
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Lydia asked indignantly.
"A lovely, lovely witch," Stiles told her with a wide grin, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Lydia called after him as he took off, "Where are Cora, Malia, Peter and Laura?"
"Woods, apparated, broom. Probably. Most likely. I'll be back soon! Hopefully in one piece," he called over his shoulder, disappearing into the approaching night.
So, I'm sorry that this chapter is short, but I had to wait on some things I want to do more for the next couple chapters. If I don't get another chapter up before Monday, then the next chapter won't be until the end of November when I get out of Basic. Sorry, guys.