"Stiles, we need to talk."

"Um, one minute dad. Just one minute." Stiles put up his pointer finger as he continued to type with his other hand on his desktop computer. His father, Sheriff Stilinksi, stood there with his hand on the door knob.

After a minute passed of him staring at his son's back as he clicked away on his keyboard, his father's tone became more strict. "Stiles. Now."

"Okay, okay. I'm almost done." Stiles made another few choice clicks and then twirled his chair around, smiling at his father. "What's up dad?"

"You keep going through my bags. Do you need more money for gas?" Sheriff asked, studying Stiles' reaction. Stiles nodded slowly, and then shrugged.

"Yeah, I figured you were busy. Sorry dad."

"You know you're not supposed to go through my files, right? It's a breach of confidentiality if my family rummages through my paperwork. You know that would make me look bad if you start talking about my cases. So I'd appreciate if you needed some cash for gas if you came to me and asked, so I can give it to you."

"Okay dad," Stiles said with a grin, and gave his dad double thumbs up. "Will do. Can I go to Scott's tonight?"

His father hesitated, thinking over his request. "It's a school night..." He muttered, but nodded after a moment and motioned to behind him. "Just make sure to take out the trash before you go and take your phone. And I laid two twenties out on the table for gas. Oh, and if you could pick up some milk after school tomorrow, that'd be great." He patted the wood frame of the door as he turned to walk away. "You have fun, Stiles." Then his father headed to his room, shutting the door behind him.

Stiles texted Scott, "You won't watch Star Wars but you'll love Space Balls. Trust me. I'll win you over yet. Be over in 10." He pocketed his phone and grabbed his jacket, then shoved a change of clothes and his tooth brush and tooth paste in a bag. Snatching the copy of Space Balls he had unearthed from the basement, he shoved that in the bag as well. He almost bounced down the steps towards the front door before he heard his father call from upstairs.

"Trash, Stiles."

"Oh yeah, trash," He repeated, turning towards the kitchen to grab the black trash bag and lugged it out the front door with him. As he approached the street, he opened the blue carton bin to throw the bag in, the street illuminated by nothing but street lamps. Well, street lamps and some sort of vehicle coming down the road. He glanced up to look at it as the bin clamored shut, and he glared at the outline in the darkness. The vehicle was slowing down the closer it got, and it sent chills up his spine as he slowly backed up the driveway towards his jeep, still watching. He swung his backpack and coat in the back of his jeep and shut the door.

As the red car came closer, the window rolled down and Stiles stared at it as someone flicked on the car light. There sat the anti-seat belt man. "Hey, come here." He said, leaning over and motioning for Stiles to come closer.

"Um." Stiles said, glancing at his jeep and then back at the car, which was a little ways away from him yet. "...I think I'm good here, thanks. What's up?"

"No, come here. Just for a second."

"No, no, I'm really fine where I am. I can hear you. You're crystal clear from here."

The guy turned the wheel and put the car right in the driveway, stopping inches from Stiles. Stiles stared down at the car's hood. "Um, yeah."

"Come here." The guy insisted, and Stiles cautiously edged towards the car, looking in.

"So...new car." He commented, looking inside. "Definitely better. Does this one come with seat belts? I see you're not wearing one." The other glared at him, and then pointed to the passenger's side.

"Get in."

Stiles stared at him daftly, trying to figure out what this was. At first he thought, am I too old to get abducted? This guy looked menacing in the daytime from certain angles, but at night he looked as if he could kill a person and get away with it. From every angle. After looking like he seriously gave the other's offer a thought, he stood up straight and said, "You know, I've got somewhere to be, so I think I'm going to pass up on that."

The guy sighed, and then said, "Look in the backseat." He rolled down the back window.

Stiles peered inside the car, and then spotted his tiny friend fast asleep in a beat-up car seat. "Awwww, she's got a car seat! Wait, you didn't fasten it in right." He opened the back door, and then crawled in the seat next to the snoozing child to reach under it, trying to loop the seat belt through the holes correctly. "How does this work? Wait, I think I have-" The car door shut next to him. He immediately tried to open it again, but it had a child protection lock and wouldn't budge. "Oh, come on! Okay- what's your name?" He said as the guy climbed back in the car, shutting the door.

"I don't know if I want to give it to you. You might write me up more fake tickets," The guy commented as he backed out onto the street, then started driving. "We're going to have a little talk."

"Look, it was a whole thirty six hours ago I gave you that ticket. And look at the change you've made! She's secured in her seat - well, sort of...I think this seat actually is broken and you could use a new one that was made in the last decade, but baby steps. We're taking baby steps here..." Stiles glanced at the baby, who looked like she was chewing something in her sleep.

The guy barely stopped at a stop light. "My truck is in at the shop. This is a rental. And her seat I bought new three months ago."

"Three months, holy shit." Stiles looked at it. He'd never seen a car seat in worse condition - there was padding ripped out of the sides and the bottom. In fact, he couldn't even tell what was a hole and what was the pattern of the seat.

As they drove in silence, Stiles looked even more confused, and had started to sweat from his crushing nerves. He fully regretted his previous actions, but he was kind of terrified he was in a car with a baby-wielding potential serial killer, so he was going to stay quiet. But he could have sworn the guy had said they would talk, so as they got deeper into the woods, his hand went to the door handle again as he tried to get out.

"Child lock," The driver said without adding anything else as he heard the click of the door, which was barely audible. Stiles had a bad feeling before, but at the other's almost witchcraft level of knowing what he was doing in the back seat made him indescribably afraid of what was going to happen when the car stopped at whatever destination the guy had planned out.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I really don't think you want to do this, because I seriously - I might be annoying. I'm aware. But killing me will just make her grow up without a father. Do you really want that?"

He watched as the driver's eyebrows perked up with moderate interest, but the guy went back to watching the road without commenting. Now Stiles was sure he was going to die. He realized his phone was still in his pocket, so he pulled it out and typed out 'Help' in a text to Scott- but the text failed to send because they were in the middle of no where in the outskirts. He glanced up, and then looked around the backseat. There wasn't much he could use to threaten the guy, but maybe if he got out of the car he could run off and find his way back to civilization.

The car came to a sudden stop outside the creepy mansion, which Stiles recognized from when he and Scott were there in the daylight. He watched as the guy got out of the car and opened the side where the baby was, unsnapping the buckle on her seat and lifting her out. The baby limply continued to snooze like a tiny baby shaped rock against her dad. He shut the door and then walked over to Stiles' side and opened the door.

Stiles stared at him, and then said in a slightly shaky tone, "I actually would kind of like a ride back to my house." He swallowed, prepared to stay in the car for his dear life.

"I just want to have a talk. Inside my house." The guy said, nodding. "Come on. She needs to go to bed."

"Well..." It didn't seem right to let his guard down because there was a baby involved, but Stiles felt cornered. He slowly stood up, letting the guy go ahead of him towards the creepy haunted looking mansion. Maybe, he thought in a moment of fearful desperation, I could take the guy's keys. Hell, I don't even know his name. Or the kid's name. Or where I am. I have no cell phone reception. Oh god, I'm a horror movie victim cliche.

"Look, I get it, you're trying to scare the shit out of me because I pissed you off. You've got me. You've got me so good, I'm about to die from fear. Can I just- can you just drive me back to my house?" Stiles asked, but the guy instead opened the front door and nodded for him to go in. "Are you deaf or just an asshole?" Stiles asked, squinting at the other in disbelief.

"Go in," The other insisted, and Stiles reluctantly stepped inside. He stared at the massive staircase and old wood work in slight awe. The guy stepped inside and locked the door behind him. "Go in the door over there under the steps."

That's it. That's where he's going to kill me. This guy is going to murder me with a baby in his arms, that's how I'm going to die. Stiles froze in his spot, staring at the other. "Are you sure? I'm sure everyone is sleeping, and I walk really heavy, so I should probably step back out."

"No, go in." The leather-coat wearing stranger motioned towards the back room. "I'll be in after I put her to bed."

Stiles reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, thinking, well at least he's not going to kill me with the baby watching. He sighed and turned towards the back of the room, and entered through the door into a room that was entirely dark.

"Great," He muttered under his breath. "It's dark." He started feeling up the wall nearest to the door, and finally found a switch, which he flipped on. The room lit up, and he found a bunch of old furniture with crocheted blankets thrown over it. There was a large rug on the floor, covering what looked like really beaten up wooden planks. What really caught his eye though was a whole wooden shelf full of pictures, what looked like family images and award ribbons.

"Someone plays an instrument," He said under his breath as he walked over, looking at the pictures. He recognized the guy and the baby when it was younger in one photo, but then noticed a really pretty shorter girl with brown eyes and long brown hair in the picture as well who wasn't familiar. "Must be the mom." With a gentle touch, he picked up one of the picture frames, and knocked a newspaper clipping out on the floor. Nimbly he bent down and plucked it off the floor between his fingers, and then read 'obituary' at the top.

"...oh." He said to himself, putting the picture back and then read the clipping. "Paige Hale, 24, died of unknown causes, leaving behind her husband, Derek Hale, and their infant daughter, Luna Hale." It occurred to him he had told the guy a few days before that his wife should watch the baby when he drove, and also, somewhere in there Stiles vaguely remembered telling him he was going to put himself six feet under. "Wildly inappropriate comments for the situation I wasn't aware of," Stiles muttered under his breath, putting the newspaper clipping back on the shelf, frowning.

He shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked at the rest of the pictures, and read a few of the ribbons. Apparently Paige played cello and received a few ribbons for it. And it looked like the Hale family was extremely happy in pictures with Luna. So many Hales- he didn't know this guy's family was so...big. He jumped when he heard a voice behind him.

"So that's my wife. Glad you could meet her." Derek put a hand on Stiles' shoulder which made him cower a bit, trying to edge away. "She's been, what, six feet in the ground since last February. That's the words you used, right? Six feet under. But yeah, I guess you could say I could leave our daughter with my wife. I mean, I could set her right here next to the shelf and she can entertain herself by chewing on the only memorabilia she has of her mother."

"Look, I'm...sorry, I didn't know."

"It's fine. Well, not really. But I think you get the point. Next time you try hunting someone down to give them an unwarranted ticket, maybe you should consider not following them to their residence and handing them something you stole out of your daddy's work bag like some sort of budding dictator."

"H-...hey. What. No, wait a second here." Stiles began, knowing his heart was beating in his throat from fear the guy was about to pull out a knife and stab him like some sort of backwoods horror movie, but he couldn't stop himself. "You think my comments were unwarranted? You were driving around with your child improperly secured in her seat - or no seat, from the other day - and you think my comments are unwarranted? Look, this is going to sound harsh but she's dead." He pointed at Paige's picture. "Your kid isn't. Act like that means something and buckle her in her goddamn seat, and correctly. And while we're at it, buckle yourself in your goddamn seat too. Now if you're done guilt tripping me, can I go home?"

Derek stared at Stiles icily, his eyes narrowed as he stepped towards Stiles. "You're lucky I don't kill you." He was so close Stiles could feel the other's breath on his skin. Stiles didn't know what to say, so he just stepped back into the wooden shelf, disturbing a few picture frames as they wobbled in place. Derek walked out of the room, and Stiles followed. He watched Derek throw the keys to the teenage girl, and motioned to Stiles.

"He's a licensed driver. Go practice with him and drop him off at his house." He said as he walked up the steps, and the girl looked at Stiles with a grin. Stiles opened his mouth to protest, but leaving this place alive was actually his goal and it seemed like he was going to get it, so he wanted to go with whatever got him out the door fastest. He let the girl go in front of him, accidentally glancing at her ass before he reminded himself he was in unknown territory with what seemed like an aggressive family.

"Um, so you drive," He said as he got in the passenger seat, and the girl got in the drivers side.

"Nope!" She said as she put the key in. "First time I've sat in this side of the car." She started it and threw it in reverse, and took off down the road. Stiles' eyes widened as he gripped the door handle.

"Okay, so...not to distract you, but who are you?" Stiles asked, looking over at the girl. Even though she was cute, her driving was making him sea sick and he felt compelled to keep his eyes on the road.

"Cora." She ran through a four-way stop, and cursed under her breath at a car honking at her. "So I don't know what the hell you said to Derek, but he actually let someone fix his truck. I'm shocked. Even our mom tried getting him to send it in for repairs and he blew her off." She ran another light, and then looked at the residential street signs. "This road? Or the next one?"

"Uh...next one. So why didn't he get it fixed?"

"I...eh. You'll have to figure that out. I don't like talking about things like this with guys I barely know." She stopped on his street, then motioned for him to get out. He looked at her with a frown.

"But my house is a few houses down, I..."

"...so? You have legs." She motioned for him to get out. "Skedaddle. Shoo." He grumbled as he got out of the car and barely had time to shut the door before she zoomed off.

"...she totally drove before...maybe. Definitely should've died tonight." He said out loud to no one but himself as he started off towards his house. "Probably should have died several times."