Stiles walked down the grocery aisle, looking at the bags of chips. "Eh, Scott hates those." He muttered as he moved on, then stopped dead in his tracks as he noticed a baby carrier sitting abandoned in the aisle. "...hey, I know that carrier."
He bent down to look inside, seeing Luna fast asleep. He smiled, then stood up and looked around. The aisle was completely empty of any other people, and the lights flickered. "Hey, did someone leave her again?" He called out, though the attempt was futile because no one gave a response. With a frown, he bent down and picked up the carrier, holding it with two arms as he walked towards the registers. The lights continued to flicker, and he was shocked to find every check out station empty - no customers, no employees.
An exasperated sigh left his lips as he turned in a circle, trying to figure out what to do with the baby. That's when he saw a woman standing in the middle of the candy aisle, staring at the shelf. With a hop in his step, he quickly maneuvered over to where she was and said, "Hey, miss? Did you leave this baby here? Is this your baby?"
She looked towards him, smiling sadly as he came closer. "Yes, that's my baby." The lights flickered again and he stopped, staring at the woman.
"Hey...you...you're that Paige girl, aren't you?" He asked, then the lights went out. He was in the darkness, clutching the carrier handle, his heart beating in what felt like his throat. The lights flickered back on, and a huge monstrous hairy creature stood next to her. "No, watch out! That thing's behind you!"
"It's okay Stiles, I'm already dead." She said as the thing stabbed through her back, dark blood dripping down huge yellowing claws protruding from her front. His jaw dropped as he stumbled backwards, still holding the carrier. The creature picked her up off the ground then threw her against the shelf, boxes falling everywhere.
He turned and bolted out of the aisle, holding the carrier to his chest as he tried running for the doors. He flung open the first door, but then he was blocked inside by a woman. At first he didn't recognize her, and then he realized it was his mother - long brown hair, his brown eyes, the familiar dimples on her face. She smiled at him and reached towards him and said, "Don't be afraid, Stiles."
"Stilinski!" He jolted out of his sleep, sitting up at his desk, a pool of drool on his sleeve. He looked up, confused. There stood coach looking at him, a disappointed look on his face. "You're a mess, Stilinski. Go clean yourself up."
"But I can't- Scott's not-" Stiles objected. His brain was foggy on waking up, but he knew he had gone everywhere with Scott for over a week. They even went to the bathroom together. He wiped his mouth on his other sleeve, brushed the pool of drool on his jeans and sat up in his seat. "I'm good coach. I swear."
"Stilinski, you've got another month before finals and you look dead on your feet. I'm telling you to go to the nurses office. Lay on the cot, get some shut eye." He walked towards his desk, grabbing a pink slip and jotted something down on it and returned to Stiles' desk. He slammed it down on the other's desk, but it hit a fleck of drool and washed out his signature a bit. Stiles looked at it, and then back at Coach. Coach motioned. "Well? What are you waiting for? Do you need someone to walk you there?" Jackson snorted from behind Stiles, and Stiles grabbed the slip and got up. He grabbed his backpack and walked towards the door, then shut it behind him. Staring at the pink slip, then the empty hall, he slowly made his way to the nurses office on the other side of the building.
"Nothing's going to happen." He tried saying out loud, his footsteps echoing. His mind briefly drifted back to his dream with Paige and his mother. How long had it been since he looked at a picture of her face? He was actually amazed at the clarity of his mother's expression in his dream, and how much it made his heart ache thinking about her. Even a fleeting reminder was painful. He passed by the chemistry hall, and then rounded the corner towards the art wing. When he reached the nurses office, he walked in, and looked around. She wasn't in.
"Great," He muttered, looking around the dimly lit office. "Thanks coach. I'll get a lot of sleep here. By myself." He felt a little bit like coach had sent him to time out, but he knew coach probably was trying to be nice. Unfortunately his version of nice was not Stiles' version of nice at the moment. In fact, he briefly considered that coach was punishing him for forgetting to give back his keys to the locker room until two classes later, making everyone late for gym as people scouted for the keys. The teen threw his bag on the floor by the cot, which was behind one of the sheet curtains in the back. Sitting down on the creaky bed, he put his face in his hands, resting his elbows on his knees.
He could still hear his mom's voice in his head. 'Don't be afraid', she said. Well, he thought, he wasn't exactly afraid, but wasn't reassured by the absence of the Hales either. The only person who really made him feel better was Scott, who was in class right now in the other side of the building. If he had gotten more sleep, he wouldn't have fallen asleep in class, and coach wouldn't have tried to send him off for a nap. With a sigh, he lowered his hands as he looked at the floor. "Few more weeks. School will be over, I'll pack, I'm going out of state." The words felt less effective at making him feel better than he thought, and he leaned back on the cot. He heard the door to the office open.
His foot hit his book bag, and he realized he had forgotten to take his morning dose of antibiotics. After his walk in the woods, his doctor prescribed them to beat potential infection in the cuts he got on his feet. Leaning over, he grabbed the bag and pulled it to his lap, looking through it. "Hey nurse," He said, "Can I have a bottle of water? Coach sent me in here to sleep but I need water to take my antibiotics." Finally finding the bottle, he grabbed it and set his bag on the floor. When there was no response except water running, he became suspicious, but stayed where he was.
"Nurse? I'm sorry I don't remember your name. What is it?" He asked innocently, and the sink squeaked and the water quit running. That was his only response. His hand started wandering towards the cot, looking for a weapon. The only thing his hand met was an extremely flat pillow, which he grabbed anyways. "Um, nurse? You're pretty quiet today." He said as he started to stand, watching a shadow outline behind the other side of the curtain. He swallowed as he stepped back, holding up the pillow defensively. A hand pulled the curtain back, and there stood Derek with a paper cup of water. Stiles stared at him and then said obstinately, "No. No, you leave."
"Stiles, we should talk." Derek stepped inside the curtained area, and he held out the water to the other. Stiles stared at his offer suspiciously, then slowly reached out and gingerly took the cup from the other's hand. Derek motioned to the cot and said, "Sit."
"I'd like to stand, thank you very much," Stiles said, and Derek looked at the pillow he was holding to his chest.
"...were you planning on suffocating me with that?" He asked, grinning.
Stiles threw the pillow on the cot, looking at the other sheepishly as he responded defensively, "It was the only thing close by. Talk."
Derek chuckled as he sat on the chair near the cot, leaning back in it. "Look, we got off on the wrong foot."
"Two wrong feet. I'm still taking antibiotics for that," Stiles interjected, cranking open the bottle and taking out his pill as he glared at Derek. Derek nodded in agreement, then put his hands together to form a steeple as he looked contemplative.
"Yeah. That was your choice though. I offered to drive you." He commented, his eyes narrowing. "Look, I know this is going to sound strange to you but my kid really...likes you."
"That doesn't justify anything you've done, but continue," Stiles said as he swallowed the water, then recapped his pill bottle and shoved it in his bag.
"Look, I can't tell you a lot. But what I can tell you is my kid is really sensitive to smell, and she likes you, so I took your shirt. I figured you wouldn't want to hang around someone with a one year old and if she doesn't smell certain people after awhile, she gets very angry." Derek covered his mouth and then muttered a muffled comment through his hand, "I shouldn't have let you hold her."
Stiles stared at Derek, then rolled his eyes as he said, "So you're telling me your child has some sort of dog like sense of smell and she's attached to me from the few times I've held her." He grabbed his bag off the floor and said, "You're crazy. You and your family are crazy. I don't know why you're stalking me or how you could have possibly developed whatever type of obsession this is you have with me, but I'm ending it here. Don't contact me. Quit stalking me. I'm telling my dad. The next time you decide you're going to visit me here at the place I go to school, you'll be arrested." He passed by the curtain by Derek. Derek stood to his feet and grabbed Stiles by his left arm. Stiles gave him a disgruntled look and said, "Don't touch me! Get off! What's wrong with you?"
Derek shoved him against the closed door, letting go of his arm.
"I'm serious, I will fucking call the cops, you asshole," Stiles seethed through his teeth, and Derek moved closer. Their bodies were almost touching, and Stiles could feel the other's breath against his skin. "Let go of me."
"You talk too much," Derek stated, studying Stiles' face. His green eyes were locked on Stiles' doe brown ones. Stiles scoffed at the comment.
"And you get too damn-" Before he could finish his statement, Derek leaned in and pressed his lips against Stiles'. The bristles of the other's five o'clock shadow grazed his chin as Derek's sharp teeth ran over Stiles' bottom lip. When he pulled away, that unnervingly still look met Stiles' again, Derek's dark eyebrows raised in a questioning way.
"...close." Stiles finished his sentence, then said again, stuttering a bit. "You're, you're too close." Derek stepped back, then shoved Stiles gently from the door and headed out without an explanation. The door fell shut and Stiles was left there, touching his mouth as he tried to recover from the shock of unwanted advances being made. He turned to look at the door, then his hands fell to his sides as he stared at it, his bag falling on the floor.
"...I need Scott." He said out loud, leaning down to pick up his backpack and headed out the door.
After school, Scott and Stiles ambled their way through the crowded halls to the exit. "So he kissed you? Was it like, with tongue?" Scott asked Stiles, and Stiles faked a disgusted look as he shook his head. Honestly, it wasn't bad, but he just wasn't sure if that was the way he...rolled. "So he's stalking you."
"Yeah, I mean, who wouldn't. I'm hot." Stiles said as he grinned, and Scott shook his head.
"It's not...good. I mean, I'm not homophobic, but I don't think you should even consider that guy. He's like, part of a gang."
"I'm not considering it, Scott," Stiles assured Scott, who gave him a shifty glance.
"You're not?" Stiles stopped, looking at Scott as they approached his jeep. Scott shrugged, not adding anything else to his question.
"Do you think I'm gay? Scott, we've known each other forever. You know I'm undecided." Scott made a pained expression like he was withholding his opinion, accompanied with a distinct groaning noise. Stiles' mouth dropped open. "Scott. Really?"
"Eh, I kinda figured when you didn't stare at anyone like I do that you were, well, gay. Like that time you accidentally grabbed Danny's crotch during a lacrosse game, I didn't mention it."
"That was an accident and you know it, his crotch was in my goddamn way and he was coming too damn fast," Stiles insisted loudly, but lowered his voice after a couple of girls walked by giving them both highly critical glances. "Okay, so I might have had a few gay moments, but I do like girls. Trust me, I like girls. So I'm undecided. But you'd really think I'd consider someone who's stalking me? I mean, you're my best friend."
"That's good to know, because I was kinda scared for a moment you would, and I don't want you ending up dead like the Walcotts," Scott admitted, walking again. Stiles followed in silence until they reached the vehicle.
"I think that was my first kiss," He said with a sense of regret out loud as he opened the door, and Scott groaned, sharing in his disappointment.
"Dude, and it wasn't me." Scott climbed in next to him, and Stiles grinned.
"I know, we should have taken this bromance to the next level quicker." Stiles turned on the jeep, and then looked at Scott. "Maybe I should let the guy down slowly and tell him I'm not interested. Maybe it'll make him stop coming around." The thought kind of saddened him, but he didn't mention it to Scott.
"Yeah. Invite him for coffee at that shop downtown, and then we'll all go. You have his number?"
Stiles shook his head, putting the vehicle in reverse as he looked over his shoulder. "Nope. We'll have to drive by."
Scott nodded his head, pursing his lips for a moment before he commented, "You know, I think maybe the guy's lonely. You said his wife died right? Every time you see him he's with his family. Maybe he just really wants friends outside of his cult."
"Maybe, Scott," Stiles said idly, thinking. "Yeah, maybe."