Chapter 10
Allison commandeered the tech guys who'd cleaned up from the mic explosion and sent them scouring the area as they tried to remember which trashcan they'd thrown the baggy of microphone bits in. It only took them a god awful twenty minutes to find the damn thing. Then Allison requested two of them to help her sort through the pieces to determine what was part of the original microphone and what may have been added after the traditional production line.
Unfortunately, Derek couldn't stick around for this fascinating bit of detective work. Despite Stiles' stand-off attitude during their last talk, the singer had requested Derek be on his detail for a meet and greet.
It was a late gig, starting at seven p.m. and going until the line was gone or until they cut it off at ten. When they arrived, the line was already out the door of the music store, which seemed to both excite and tire Stiles out at the same time. At a glance, Derek could already see some interesting fans were in attendance. This time when Stiles went on a rant about all the people he met, Derek would be the one he asked to back him up instead of being part of the audience of listeners, and Derek was pretty okay with that.
Their group entered through the receiving door instead of the front entrance and an employee handed Stiles a large frappe – something involving chocolate, it seemed – much to the singer's delight. Melissa was there, debriefing the employees on rules. An alert had been sent ahead of time so all employees working would understand how the event would go down, but at least one of them obviously hadn't read it.
While Melissa worried about details and deadlines, Derek worried about much more dangerous things.
"You look intense. What's got you so worked up?" Styles asked, sipping his drink.
"Guns," Derek answered and Stiles nearly choked. "Weapons of any kind. I'm worried about pens, Stiles. It's my job."
"You really think someone's going to try and stab me with a pen?" Stiles asked, incredulous. "Dude, that is awesome!" When Derek glared at him, the smile instantly fled from Stiles' face. "I mean in a totally not awesome way. That would be terrible." And in a tinier voice he added, "Obviously."
"Well it's not going to happen. That's why I'm here." Derek folded his arms behind his back and tried not to find Stiles' optimism too attractive. He didn't want to enjoy it only to find it switch to another cold shoulder.
"Right. But if it did happen, you'd beat the guy who did it to death for me, wouldn't you? And then, of course, take me to the hospital. But you'd avenge me, right?" Stiles asked.
Melissa came to usher Stiles to his signing table then, so all Derek did was raise his eyebrow curiously in response to the question. As he was pulled away, Stiles called out "Avenge me!" and Melissa muttered "I don't even wanna know" under her breath, but then they were out the door and the front of the line sort of shrieked in excitement.
Derek followed soon after and stood behind Stiles through the whole event. There were fans as young as six with disinterested parents and fans as old as sixty, who became flustered when Stiles called them young as well. Stiles was a pro. He was friendly with everyone, but professional too. He was efficient and yet fun. He flipped between different colored pens and markers depending on what he was signing with the skill of an artist, and everyone left the table with smiles on their faces.
Impressed did not begin to describe what Derek was feeling. Relieved did, however, as more and more people left and the line got shorter and no signs of any weapons or foul play presented themselves.
A busty young woman started winking at Derek as soon as she was within his range of notice, and she seemed pleased about it, but she wouldn't have been if she knew it made her a target of suspicion. Her outfit was provocative but Derek wouldn't call it slutty. Skirt at mid-thigh, v-neck top that dipped so low you could see the connecting band of her bra, but it covered everything else – she definitely knew the game she was playing.
Stiles didn't pay her much mind when she first walked up to the table and handed him a photo to sign, but he hesitated putting his pen to the page. His forehead creased and then he snapped his head up to see who had handed him the photo.
"Hey there, Cutie," she greeted, leaning forward over the table toward him.
Derek's pulse pounded hard in his veins. Her proximity was a red flag. Her flirtations were a red flag. Her intentions were unclear. She was a potential threat. He took a half step forward to ask her to stand back, but before he could even open his mouth, Stiles was laughing.
"Erica!" he shouted, standing and leaning over the table to embrace her. Derek retreated his half step, stunned, and Erica smirked at him over Stiles' shoulder. "You should have told me you were coming!"
"Maybe, but this was far more fun," she said as they broke away. "Now sign my photo of you from last Halloween so I can sell it on the black market of celebrity photos."
Laughing again, Stiles did as was requested and held it up for her. "Boyd's gonna kill me when he finds out you were here. You have to go see him. In fact, hang around and come back with us when this is done."
"Only if your watchdog approves," Erica said, winking at Derek. "He hasn't taken his eyes off me since I came around the corner."
He felt his face go stony and couldn't help it, but Stiles seemed unmoved by his expression. "He approves. He approves."
"Then thanks for the autograph." She held it gently in her hands and wiggled her shoulders like she held a very tempting lure. "And I'll see you later."
Then she was sashaying away from the table like a pro model. In her wake, Derek and Stiles exchanged a look that was equally confused and curious on both sides. Derek was wondering how Stiles knew such a woman, what their relationship was or had been, and his stomach was knotted in jealousy. But he had no idea why a similar expression was on Stiles' face.
After Erica's departure, the rest of the event was bordering on boring. There were plenty of excited fans, asking him to sign all kinds of things – instruments, yearbooks, one guy brought a pumpkin – but none seemed threatening or invasive. And Stiles grew tired. The fans, no doubt, couldn't tell. He was still cheerful and friendly, but he gripped his pen a bit tighter, his shoulders sagged just a bit more, and Derek could tell the event was slowly running him down.
So when the last fan was helped, the last photo taken, and the store was deemed clear, Derek wasn't the only one to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Good work," Melissa said, leaning against the table. "You look tired, so let's get you some water to drink and then head back to the buses so you can sleep. Okay?"
"Sounds good to me, Mom," Stiles said with a tease, but Melissa only looked fond as she ruffled his hair and walked away to organize the breakdown. "Come with me," Stiles said to Derek without looking completely at him.
Wordlessly, Derek followed as Stiles led him around shelves of CDs and towards the back corner of the store. The only thing back there was the bathroom, and Stiles led Derek inside without hesitation, but he didn't go for one of the stalls. As soon as the door closed behind them, he turned and leaned in close to Derek.
The singer's eyes shut as their foreheads rested together, and Derek found his own closing, a relaxed feeling taking over his body. Stiles' hand was on the back of his head, and though Derek expected it, Stiles didn't try to kiss him or even ask about it. He just leaned his head on Derek's and breathed slowly. After a short moment, Derek opened his eyes and watched Stiles breathe, watched the tension ease from his shoulders.
"Stiles," he said, much quieter and gentler than he'd planned.
The singer shook his head as he pulled away. "Sorry. I'll explain it to you sometime."
He looked much calmer, less tired, when he headed for the door, and Derek thought maybe he understood without Stiles telling him. They were soul mates. Derek knew it. There was no other explanation for why being close to Derek would relieve the tension from Stiles' body. Stiles had to realize that too, so now the only question was why he didn't explain it to Derek now.
Stiles had said he wanted to pick his soul mate, not have it picked for him. So, Derek thought as he followed Stiles back into the store, the only thing stopping Stiles must be a desire to determine if he even wanted Derek to be his soul mate. It certainly seemed like he did some times, but then… the coldness from the day before, their arguing – perhaps Stiles was waiting for the other shoe to drop, just like Derek had been.
But Derek wasn't waiting for something bad to happen anymore, because that bathroom moment had solidified everything for him… at least cosmically.
They hung around the store for about half an hour, partly to pack up and partly to make sure the fans had time to clear out of the parking lot. By the time they were leaving, Derek had completely forgotten about Allison's investigative work back at the concert hall. He was watching Stiles converse with Melissa as they walked, taking note of every mole, every freckle, and he wondered how it was possible for the lava in his veins to feel so … pleasing.
At first it had made him feel sluggish and awful, then hot and burned, and now it was strong and warm. He couldn't even see Stiles' eyes, and yet the feeling came all the same. Thinking back on Jennifer, on the tingling sensation her skin left behind, Derek could only note the difference. Stiles had never had to touch him to affect him. Maybe that should have been a clearer sign, but Derek had been so determined to ignore it.
Walking to the car, his mind was fixed on all the signs that he should have noticed and he became more and more assured that Stiles had to be his soul mate. There was no other option. So he almost didn't react when the SUV came racing through the parking lot in their direction.
"What?" someone asked, a general question on the unusual event.
It took Derek a moment longer than it should have to recognize the threat – that the SUV was picking up speed instead of losing it and heading straight for them. Derek tensed and grabbed for Stiles, shouting "Move!" as he did so. The other security members pulled Melissa, Erica, and the others back while Derek ran forward, pushing Stiles along with him. The SUV swerved away from the others and toward Derek and Stiles, honing in on them. Stiles yelped as Derek shoved him between two cars, causing him to trip, and Derek took a second to look into the windshield of the SUV before he knew the parked cars weren't going to stop the driver.
Cursing, he threw himself down on top of Stiles on the ground. "Down!" he shouted just as the SUV's front bumper collided with the car on their right. Stiles shouted, hands covering his head, as glass shattered and the car lurched toward them. The SUV didn't stop however, pushing the green compact several feet before veering off and escaping onto the busy highway on the other side of the bushes.
Derek couldn't move. As inappropriate as it was to lie so flush against Stiles, he couldn't lift himself up. His fists were clenched and his eyes were squeezed shut and someone was shouting their names, but he couldn't move. It hurt. He wanted to look, but he didn't, he couldn't.
"Derek?" It was Stiles, voice concerned and shaking, that gave him enough to focus on besides pain and allowed him to open his eyes. Stiles was facing the pavement, but he could see Derek's fists, clenched so tightly that the skin turned white, and he reached one hand out to grabbed the wrist closest to his face. "Are you okay?"
Derek tried to answer, but all that came out was a whine of a noise he'd never heard from himself before. Of course he'd never been in this much pain either.
"Stiles?! Derek?!" Melissa called out, just blocked by the car.
"Call an ambulance!" Stiles shouted, and Derek felt relief in his chest. Stiles couldn't see Derek, couldn't see the leg that was causing him so much pain, but he knew. Someone, probably Melissa, muttered "Oh my God" at the order, but it was hard to hear over Stiles talking, low and quick, to him. "You're alright. Alright? Whatever's wrong – it's gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."
"Sorry," Derek managed to huff out, face against Stiles' back.
"Oh my God, for what?" Stiles asked, voice almost hysterical. "Don't you dare say you're dying."
A snort escaped Derek despite the pain in his leg. "No."
"Good. Now what are you sorry for?" Stiles asked, trying to tilt his head back to see more than Derek's fist.
"I… I think I'm off your detail." Whatever was causing the pain in his leg would be bad news, he understood that. He also understood that he couldn't be the head of Stiles' security team if he couldn't walk.
"Don't be stupid," Stiles scolded, his hand tightening around Derek's wrist. It wasn't the one with his numbers on it, but the contact eased his tension just a bit. "You have to be on my security detail."
He sounded so determined, like the statement was as true as saying the Earth revolved around the Sun. Derek let out a pained chuckle, and so did Stiles, even though he wasn't injured. In the silence that followed, Derek just concentrated on breathing, and then Melissa's voice reached them.
"The paramedics are here!" she called. "And a fire truck, and I think those police are for us too." And now Derek could hear the sirens.
Derek managed to force his left fist open and Stiles slid his hand into Derek's like he was psychic as well as a singer. He didn't even complain as Derek gripped his hand like a lifeline.
"It's gonna be okay," Stiles murmured once, twice, three times, and Derek couldn't tell if he was saying it to Derek or to himself.
Maybe he hadn't been clear before, but Derek hated hospitals. He knew, logically, that he had to be there, but it didn't make the memories of the electric fire any less memorable. He remembered his uncle, raving mad and writhing on the hospital bed until they gave him enough painkiller to make him just mad.
The burned skin on his arm was enough to give Derek nightmares for weeks, and his uncle's near continuous rant about hospitals being evil places and how the fire hadn't been his fault and if anyone tried to charge him with it then he'd kill them and then back to how the hospital just wanted their money – well it hadn't done well for Derek's psyche. Now every time he saw a hospital, he just got a sick feeling in his chest and thought of Paige and his uncle.
The EMTs had managed to pry the car off Derek's leg with the help of the firemen, and they'd immediately moved him onto a gurney and into the ambulance. He saw Stiles stand up just fine, and then the EMTs did a brief check up on him, in a hurry to get Derek to the hospital. He knew the police had shown up to take statements and there was an alert out for the SUV, but then the ambulance doors shut and the last thing he saw was Stiles' anxious face, his left hand clenched tight around his right forearm.
One x-ray, one fitting, and lots of medication later, Derek was propped up in his hospital bed, right shin in a cast and feeling pretty good about the future of his leg. Laura was there, had been since he got out of x-rays, and had long since finished scolding him for being stupid. Now she just sat by him, sending emails and checking their itinerary on her tablet.
"Laura," Derek said, breaking the silence. "We have to talk about this."
"About what?"
"About my replacement."
That got Laura to look up from her mail, a surprised look on her face before it settled into a frown. "What are you talking about? You're fine."
"Laura, I can't protect Stiles when I'll be in a wheelchair or on crutches. Someone will have to take my place." When she looked like she might protest, he held up his hand to silence her. "Please don't pretend that we have any other choice."
Laura swallowed thickly, biting back whatever it was she'd been about to say, and then she reached out to touch his hand. After a long silence, she finally murmured, "We could bring in Uncle Peter."
"Anyone but him," Derek grunted, remembering the electrical fire and how Peter had ignored Derek's warnings.
Before Laura could speak again, there was a soft knock on the doorframe, and they both looked up to find several visitors. Melissa had knocked, but she was accompanied by Scott, Kira, Allison, and Isaac. They all looked nervous, like they didn't know if Derek blamed the tour for his injury or if he would even be nice. Maybe he should work on his "serial killer" eyebrows.
"One at a time, guys," Melissa said. Then, as an afterthought, she added, "If that's alright with Derek."
He nodded, because he honestly didn't mind, but he was thinking about Isaac. Allison and Scott, he understood well enough. Kira seemed to hang around Scott a lot, both because of Stiles and because she obviously liked him. But why Isaac?
Scott moved to come into the room at the same time as Allison and they ran into each other, bumping from each other and into the doorframe and then back. As they both exclaimed pain with their shoulders hitting the walls, there was a bright glow from between them and all regard for Derek was put on hold.
"But-?" Allison asked, holding up her glowing wrist. Scott held up his too and then they looked curiously at each other. Then Allison's face went tense with worry. "Isaac?" she gasped and turned to him.
The make-up artist's brow was knit tightly and when Allison turned to him, he held up his blank wrist to her. Allison pressed their wrists together, and the glow transferred from her wrist to his before all three wrists went blank.
"I don't understand," Allison murmured. "Isaac and I already cancelled each other out yesterday. How-"
"Multiple mates," Melissa said with a shrug of her shoulders. Her eyes were on Scott, proud but anxious. After a moment, Scott looked up at her and she motioned to Kira with those eyes. Stiles and Melissa always talked about Kira as though she and Scott were already an item. Perhaps they had been, but with this revelation…
"It's okay," Kira said before Scott had a chance to even look her way, but with those words, everyone was looking at her. She looked nervously between all the eyes and took a step back. "It-…. It's really okay." Then she muttered out a quick "I'll be right back" and scurried off down the hallway and out of sight.
Derek didn't know her very well, but in that moment he did feel for her. She obviously really liked Scott. This couldn't be easy for her. For his part, Scott didn't look very joyous over the news either. He looked between Derek and where Kira ran, then between Allison and Kira, and then he clenched his hand into a loose fist and grunted. "Sorry. Excuse me," he said and then he was gone too.
A brief silence was left in their wake, but Allison was determined not to let it reign. She took hold of Isaac's hand and pulled him into the room with her, despite the one-at-a-time rule, and she only let go when she got to Derek's bedside.
"The microphone," she said to begin.
"Kate Argent?" Derek guessed, cutting her off, and her eyes grew wide.
"Yeah. She developed a tiny EMP blaster with the R&D department of Argent Securities, but the project was shut down because the pieces were too small to be stable and had the side-effect of literally exploding. I found one in the rubble, and she's the only person with the blueprints. But how did you know?" Allison asked, hand on the bed as she leaned forward.
"She was driving the SUV," Derek explained and tried to ignore the way his leg itched under the cast. "Her hair was up and it was dark, but it was definitely her."
"You know her aunt?" Isaac asked, skeptical.
Derek did his best not to glare too harshly at the kid. "Yes. We met in passing when she sued my uncle for defamation."
"Not to mention our families are competitors," Allison added kindly. "It's common for us to recognize major members of the other firm."
"Oh," was all Isaac said, shrinking back out of the conversation.
In respect for him, they waited only a moment before continuing. Allison asked, "Did you mention her in your statement to the police?"
With a nod, Derek answered, "Yeah, but I haven't heard anything back. They probably won't find her at home, though."
"But why is she doing this?" Laura asked, sitting up in her seat. "Our families have been tense since her photos leaked and Peter was sued, but why now? It's been years. And why you and not Peter? It doesn't make sense."
"It kinda makes sense," Isaac said, having not lost his courage. When they all focused on him, he just shrugged and started cleaning his nails with his own nails. "She hates your family and wants to defame you too. Why go after the big bad wolf when you can pick off the pups?"
"We aren't pups," Laura snapped, and there was a growl there that made her seem very wolf-ish in that moment.
"I'm just saying you're not the big fish in her pond," Isaac said, holding his hands up defensively. "She can't get to Peter for one reason or another, so she's after whatever bit of the Hale company she can get."
"He's right," Allison agreed. "And Stiles is a high-profile client. The internet is already in chaos over the last two known incidents – the stage light and then Stiles' hand all wrapped up. I can only imagine this one has already been posted to every major social networking site. The tweets will be to the moon by now." She paused momentarily, looking down at her hands and pursing her lips. "I'm so sorry. My family is a mess."
Laura shook her head and reached across Derek to put her hand on Allison's. "We don't blame you, Allison. This isn't your fault."
"No. But I will help stop her," Allison declared, her eyes determined. "I'm going to tell the police about the microphone and whatever else I can to help them find her. I won't let her hurt anyone else – especially no more of my friends."
She looked at Derek when she said it, but he was too stunned to reply. Friends? Sure the company saw Lydia quite often because of Jordan, and Derek had passed Allison a few times, but this was their first major gig together and… They barely knew each other. How could she consider them friends?
"Thank you," he said anyway. Because it didn't matter how long they'd known each other or how well.
Shortly after, Allison excused herself to go file that police report, but before she left, she told Derek to get better soon or she'd make him regret it. Isaac waved and said to feel better, dude, and that made Derek smirk.
It was a good thought, that Allison might be able to help stop Kate, but he didn't get his hopes up. Not only did he not doubt Kate's skill, since she had managed to do this much damage already and not be caught, but Allison had new problems to deal with now. She had two, potentially three, soul mates. Derek couldn't ask her to pretend that wasn't happening. He wouldn't be able to if it was happening to him.
A few minutes later, Laura excused herself to go find a bathroom and Melissa, quiet as ever, left to see about switching the payment from the Hale family to the Stilinski tour. If nothing else worked, she seemed determined to pay at least half of the medical bills directly to Derek in compensation for his heroics and for keeping it from happening to Stiles.
The whole time, Derek kept trying to think up who could take his place and help Laura, and he kept coming back to only two people. One was his mother, but she was running the whole company and wouldn't have time to finish off a tour. The other…
A knock brought his attention back to the door and he expected to see Melissa or Scott, but instead he found Stiles.
"Hey," the singer greeted.
"Hey, yourself. All checked out?" Derek asked. He saw no bandages or splints anywhere on Stiles that he didn't have normally, which was really good news. Only his right wrist and hand were wrapped up.
"Not a laceration to be found," Stiles said, holding his arms out to present himself, whole and uninjured as he was. "You're really good at your job."
"If we'd been better, she wouldn't have gotten as close as she did," Derek argued calmly.
For a moment it seemed Stiles would contest the statement, but then he sucked back in whatever his words might have been. He still stood at the door, and he leaned back to look down the hall in both directions before he spoke again.
"So… broken?" he asked and rubbed his hands down his sides as though they were wet.
"Yeah. The doctor says I'll be in a wheelchair for a month, and then it's crutches for at least two weeks after that," Derek explained.
"And the tour?" Stiles took a step into the room, his body bouncing in anticipation. It reminded Derek of a nervous child or a puppy struggling to obey the 'sit' command.
"My uncle will take my place. I'd rather he didn't, but there's no one else at his level of experience. You'll be in good hands with him and Laura. Everyone else will stay as well. I'm the only one leaving." Derek swallowed thickly after the words left his mouth. He didn't want to leave. He wanted…
"Shit." The only way to describe the manner in which Stiles moved from the door to Laura's chair was to say he sprung there. One moment he was hesitating by the entrance and the next he was flopping hazardously into the chair beside Derek, hand gripping the bed sheet tightly. "Shit. Why… Why couldn't it have been someone else? Sorry – not that I'm saying anyone deserved to get hit or hurt or whatever, and I'm definitely not suggesting I should have been left to my own devices, because let's be honest, I probably would have broken my leg tripping off the sidewalk, but damn it, I don't want someone else on my detail. I want y-"
And he sucked in a large breath to cut himself off, hand slapping across his mouth as he looked away from Derek.
"I'm sorry. Shit, I'm sorry," he said in the next moment, when he let himself breathe again. "I don't know what I'm saying. I rant when I'm nervous. I mean, I rant when I'm excited too. I guess I just rant a lot. Please just tell me to shut up."
"Shut up, Stiles," Derek said obediently, but it was heatless and thus ineffective as an order. Stiles swung his head around to look at him then, and after only a second of comprehension, he started to smile.
"Yeah," he agreed, his smile faltering only a little as he mimicked zipping his lips shut. Then he slowly pushed himself up and leaned over the bed. When he got close enough, Derek reached out to him and mimicked unzipping Stiles lips again.
Stiles' mouth pulled into a bittersweet smile, and then Stiles kissed him, soft and slow. And it was good as well as sad, because tomorrow Derek would be in Los Angeles and Stiles would be in Detroit.
Preview Chapter 11:
A week before Derek's cast is set to be removed, news hits the internet that throws everyone around Stiles into chaos, mostly because it causes Stiles to collapse and no doctor can help him. Derek arrives as fast as he can to help, mind clouded by the news and by Stiles' condition, but Stiles won't allow him to stay… not until he clears up the rumors the internet has spread and tells Derek everything. Absolutely Everything. But is Derek ready for the truth hiding under Stiles' wristband?