Twilight Worlds

by KiroDrakSlayer

AU. No supernatural. Read inside for summary. Sterek

5. Chapter 5- Unscheduled midday meetings

A/N: Hey everybody I'm still alive.

MY FRIKING GOD.

I swear, for several days I thought I wouldn't make it before the end of the month. What with my job and all the things that have been going on I barely had time to write at leats a few pages per day.

Once again guys, I'm so so so sorry. I knew the chapter would suffer delays but not to this extent. I'm really fucking sorry for that one. :(

Also I want to thank you all for the continuos chekups you do on me to remind me that I just can't leave this story aside (not that I would of course XD), but you people were, in total seriousnes, the ones who helped me a lot to get a fucking move on and do some decent writting. So whenever I eat pizza I always dedicate one slice to you guys. Thanks a lot. :)

OK, enough with the uselss ranting that you readers don't need so lets get on with the show.

DISCLAIMER: Blah blah Teen Wolf property of Jeff Davis blah blah.

Have fun. :)

---

Chapter 5. - Unscheduled midday meetings

He really needed to focus.

He wanted to do that but his mind just wasn't letting up.

So he was running.

Running to forget his problems.

Okay, maybe that last one might have been a harsh thing to say about the way he was handling the situation but, to be fair, Stiles was mostly a fan of ignoring things until they went away. His favorite alternate option was to bury the situation in a pile of jokes, sass and sarcasm until the world got bored and decided to just go on.

But Stiles is still Stiles.

That meant that the universe would yet again try to find another chance to ruin his life… or for that matter, try to ruin it at every possible turn.

How? He didn't give a shit about the way. He was just sure as hell that the universe would find the most perfect way to fuck him up good. That much was certain.

So he wasn't really surprised when an early jog became nothing but a mess of sweat, wobbly legs and deflated lungs.

Yeah, Stiles was not really capable of properly measuring his own abilities, which led to uncountable times when he would just run and run until his body couldn't take it anymore. Once, after his mother's death, Stiles disappeared for an entire day, just like that, without anyone noticing. Needless to say that almost the entire town, namely the Sheriff, freaked out and, as if that weren't enough, Scott didn't really help much as he kept just pacing back and forth on his room calling every five minutes to confirm if the Sheriff had found any clue at all. In the end Stiles was found by both the Sheriff and Scott when they went to check the famous clearing that the boy and his mother used to visit a lot before, both of them had dropped jaws when they saw the scrawny teen entering the clearing from the woods; Stiles was all ragged and dirty and wet, with his skin paler than normal, horrible dark circles around his eyes and his entire body uncontrollably shaking. After the initial surprise Scott and the Sheriff hurried to take Stiles to the hospital, the kid had contracted symptoms of pneumonia for spending so much time in the dampness of the forest. Which led to those eternal hours on the waiting room that were the most horrible twelve hours of their lives (for the Sheriff it was the second worst time after his wife's death of course). In the end though, Stiles was able to successfully overcome the pneumonia and several other complications spending the next day in observation, the most tortuous twenty four hours of his young life.

Melissa giving him the silent treatment with worrying looks.

Scott ranting about how he had scared the living shit out of him.

But the most painful was his moment with his dad.

The Sheriff only took a seat by the side of the bed, took one of Stiles' hands between his' and started crying. The teen knew he had done wrong, he wanted to apologize, but in the end he couldn't and just went with crying along with his father. He awkwardly tried to sit in the bed while clinging to the Sheriff's shoulders, but in the end he couldn't hold the tears any longer when two arms cradled him.

He knew his dad had a lot of questions.

The why, the who, the what, the where, the when. They were all there in the Sheriff's mind, he just knew it. But he couldn't find the courage to tell him that before running off into the woods he had spent a good portion of twelve hours crying in the clearing where both his mother and he used to be almost all the time.

That's how Stiles decided and promised to himself to never return to that clearing.

That's how Stiles decided that he hated that green field.

Next thing he knew, his mind was being invaded by the memory of those green eyes.

He came to a stop and shook his head.

'Way to go, Stile.' He thought with a scolding tone while panting and leaning on his knees. 'What a way to ruin something.'

Yes, Stiles had regarded that green place of his childhood as one grim memory.

Yeah, many people could say that he was being immature.

Yeah, others could say that it was just his way of coping with things.

And a few couldn't even give a crap about it.

That last category fitted perfectly with Stiles.

The irony of the situation was that he wanted to fit into that category.

But the more he tried the more failed, because he cared… a lot.

Which brought him to the current situation, the running. An early jogging routine that he used to make at least thrice a week, where he would just exert his body and force his mind to let behind everything else that was weighing down him with the full intention of making him drown on an ocean of darkness. An ocean his mind envisioned as green.

Yes, green had become long ago a color of pain for him.

As stupid and weird as it sounds, Stiles always tried to avoid the color even in clothing.

Yeah, his wardrobe didn't have any piece of green clothing.

...

Okay, so Stiles still had that green bean-bag he used to sit on whenever his friends were around, but that was totally under control. First, because that was a gift from his dad when he was sixteen years old and decided to go with his dream of studying to be a great writer, therefore making the firm decision of attending college (the most touching thing was that he wanted to go to the same college his mother went to), and so the green bean bag had become his favorite seat whenever he needed to concentrate on something to write. Second, he only used that seat whenever his friends were around. Being with Scott and the gang always helped him to appreciate the good things he still had in life, thus forgetting any grim memory of the times of those green fields (it was also a great seat from which he could totally enjoy every time Scott and Jackson had one of those legendary discussions about stupid things).

Point is, he had learned to tolerate the color.

But as his mother had once told him, "Change is inevitable." he said in a soft voice.

Indeed.

Either if it's for good or for bad, change is something that no one can stop.

Boy was his life full of changes.

The most current one was the matter of green… a pair of green eyes to be more precise.

'Call me Dery.' The memory of that husky low voice was echoing in his mind, sending shivers all across his spine. It was hard for someone like Stiles, who had the tendency of dwelling too much on stuff, to stop thinking about something. Especially if that something involved a tall-dark-wolfy and mysterious man with thick manly stubble and deep green-hazel eyes.

'Enough of that you stupid brain.' he thought to himself.

But before his mind could form any more memories of that night, his line of thought was interrupted when his phone went off. Cursing under his breath Stiles reached for the device, his brows rose when he saw a text flashing with Danny's name on it.

From Danny: Idk what you're doing but I CLEARLY told you to be in the loft for the first shift, didn't I? Then why is the new kid texting me about how to use the coffee machine? You were supposed to be there with him already Stiles! Now get your ass moving before I tell Heather about the Cappuccino Day Incident.

Fuck.

Stiles quickly flailed his arms around trying to catch a glimpse of his wristwatch. It was now nine o'clock.

Shit.

The loft usually was already open by seven in the morning and it was already crowded half an hour later. No wonder the kid had been texting Danny for help, and now his day was even more fucked adding the guilt. Also he his eyes started to almost pop out as he re-read the message, his eyes carefully reading the last line.

"Fuck my life." he whispered.

Yeah, he should better head to the loft before things got ugly, not only for the new kid but, most of all, for him.

Stupid Danny and his threats.

---

"What?!" his eyes were wide.

"Oh, come on, it's not like you have something better to do today." She said whining.

He remained silent with his arms crossed, giving her the most wide eyes he could do as if to say 'And how do you know that?'

"Besides, Isaac said it was urgent for his test." She placed her fist in her hips, tapping the floor.

Derek just sighed, defeated. "Fine, I'll go."

"You're sooooo awesome big bro." she said before kissing his cheek and handing him the notebook. "Just go to the old building in the east side of the campus. The loft is on the second floor." And without another word Cora quickly left his room.

Derek gaped. "Cora!"

"Just don't forget he needs them before noon." she shouted from the hallway while running down stairs, afterwards a door being slammed was heard. She was gone

Derek rolled his eyes in annoyance; he still wondered how was it that she was able to easily drag him into whatever nonsense she came up with. Of course, everything that excluded his Camaro. Mostly because he knew how much a of a loose cannon his sister could turn into while driving that thing, and there was no way in hell he was going to allow his little sister to be in a car accident.

That was the real reason why Derek never let Cora drive the Camaro.

Yeah, Derek was a softie. Of course, it wasn't like he let anybody know that.

That being said, it was quite understandable that the young Hale would always be trying to help his family, not also his sisters (albeit not always willingly) but also his friends because they were family to him, as much as he could in any way possible.

He also kind of had a special soft spot for Isaac.

Mostly because he knew very well the boy's story. He had become so involved that over the course of time he felt like a big-brother-duty-sort-of way to be by the teen's side whenever he needed it.

Isaac and Cora first met in Elementary School and hit it off pretty well from there. At first it was mostly Cora dragging the blonde kid against his will into doing whatever idea popped into the girl's head, but even so Isaac had given into the charm that the Hale girl had (or more like willingly give into Cora's less threatening side according to the Young Hale boy). That's when Derek, at the age of twelve, met Isaac. At that time, he wasn't exactly mature to know just how bad things were by looking at certain details, but he was grown enough to notice that there was something off with the kid. For starters Isaac would always use long sleeves and sometimes even turtlenecks. Seriously, what kind of kid uses those on his own? Then it would e little habits in the way the boy used to act according to the situation, either when they were having dinner or playing or doing something Isaac would always act kind of… actually it had taken some time for him to put a word to it. In the end the word he chose was: military. Indeed, whatever they did whenever they did it always made the curly haired boy act all military and shit, like he was a soldier fighting to accomplish the ultimate mission. It wouldn't be until much later that they would finally understand why the kid was like that.

It was during a picnic.

One Sunday Cora, as usually, had dragged Isaac to the Hale's monthly family picnic with the hope of not spending alone yet another boring camping day with a family full of jerks who did nothing but embarrass her. After their meal Laura, Derek, Cora and Isaac decided to take a stroll by one of the rivers that crossed the entire preserve and neared the Hale property, all four youths being in the company of the responsible adult that was Peter Hale (statement that made Laura spit her drink by the way). During their walk both Derek and Isaac got a little stranded from the entire group, and when two kids go on a lonely walk through a forest there's bound to be trouble. Indeed, and what could've been more disastrous than ending up falling down a cliff, if not for that fact that while Derek was more agile and quick thinking enough to grab on to the ledge Isaac, on the other hand, had fallen right through but luckily getting stuck in an old tree root because of his woven wool sweater. During the rescue process, in which the curly haired boy wouldn't stop screaming for help while Derek made his best effort to rescue the kid from certain death, Isaac's sweater had to be sacrificed in order for both of them to be relatively safe on one of the many seemingly steady ledges of the cliff while they waited for the others.

It was during this waiting period that Derek, as he saw the blonde boy in a black wifebeater, gasped at the sight of the purple patches across all of Isaac´s arms. Bruises and scars made from cuts formed horrible patterns in the kid's skin, and as soon as Isaac was aware of the stare from the other boy he quickly tried to hide his marks. Not that it would made any difference when the others came to their rescue and saw his body as well.

After that the Hales would made inquiries as to why the boy would be in such a state, discovering how it was that Isaac's father, Mr. Lahey, was physically abusing him. It was the strict sense of discipline of Mr. Lahey that made him treat Isaac as a dog in training which was supposed to obey his every command, receiving horrible punishment whenever the man considered that his orders weren't being followed correctly. In the end, and after a long and very exhausting legal process, the Hales were able to acquire legal custody of the curly haired boy. Even though now Isaac did not suffer any more abuse, the aftermath of all those years with his father was quite visible and everybody knew it would take awhile to shake it off. One example was his never ending shower of apologies for meaningless things like spilling juice or even just tripping with the furniture, so far to the point that several times Cora had been just a few seconds away from ripping his lips off if it weren't for any other person who would immediately stop her.

It was a very difficult time.

Regardless of all in the end it was something they had overcome by being together, being a family, a new family for the blonde boy; over the time he had left behind, if not all, most of his fears and insecurities, he had been able to open to the new family that had welcomed him with wide open arms, he made new friends along the road. Derek, who had been there for him grew, without noticing, into the role of a protective brother, just like he felt with Cora (not that he showed that so publicly).

His train of thought was interrupted when his phone buzzed, rattling from the nightstand beside his bed. Derek quickly pick it up and saw the screen flashing with a text with Cora's name on it.

From Cora: Not sure if you already left the house but I should remind you that those notes are an urgent priority so get your ass moving unless you wanna hear Isaac whining for failing his test for the next whole week.

Yeah, if there was one thing Derek didn't liked about Isaac was the fact that the boy got his never-shut-up habit thanks to Cora.

"Okay, better get going then." he said putting the phone in his pocket.

He gave himself one last check in the mirror of his room; he was wearing a tight black t-shirt, a pair of worn out jeans he considered incredibly comfy and his ever inseparable leather jacket (which suffered from constant bullying from Laura and Cora with their biker jokes) and a pair of strapped black boots. Nodding in approval, Derek put on his dark glasses and headed for the garage. Once in there the young Hale stood motionless looking at an the empty space, the same space which was supposed to be occupied by his precious Camaro. He was pretty damn sure that Cora wasn't the one who had taken it, mostly because knowing his dear little sister she would've made the engine roar before hitting the road. Yeah, she kind of had this weird habit when about to drive something, like if she needed to announce the whole world she was behind the wheel. Derek was startled when his phone began to suddenly buzz once again.

From Peter: Hey there Dery-boy, just a heads up I took the Camaro, hope you don't mind. I left you a spare ride. Have fun and look sexy, delivery boy. ;)

Derek's eyebrow twitched.

Why was it that no one in this family, save for his mother, knew how to shut the hell up?

With a heavy sigh his eyes now drifted to the other side of the garage, making an eye roll that reflected resignation instead of annoyment. Sitting in the opposite corner there was a bike, a black Harley Davidson VRSCAW V-Rod 2007 with a wolf design on both sides. Peter was a bike collector, and he was very protective of them. Although, usually he only had to worry about Cora and Isaac trying to ride them. With another sigh Derek quickly climbed onto the bike, started the roaring engine and drove out of the Hale property. If he wanted to spare his ears the pain of hearing Isaac whining all week, he should better hurry.

He felt a little bit curious about how a change of routine could make fucking Mondays feel a lot different, pleasant even.

He was in for a surprise.

---

He was giving him a hard deciphering stare.

"Again, why do we have to wear these things?" he said pointing at the purple shaded glasses he had on.

"Because," said Stiles putting his own pair of glasses on, "Wolfsbane is a purple flower and the symbol of the loft." He shrugged. "So there you go."

Isaac only made a humming sound of approval and nodded.

"Now that we're all set, it's time for us serve coffee to the masses." he said with a big smile.

Isaac couldn't help to chuckle. "Are you sure about this?" when Stiles raised his eyebrows questioningly at him he continued. "Danny said you would skip your morning class since he couldn't be here. Are you sure you're okay just dropping class like that?"

Stiles smiled, the other boy seemed genuinely concerned. "Relax, is not that big of a deal." he shrugged. "I have enough credits and good grades on my tests so it's okay." he passed an arm around Isaac's shoulder, giving him a smile. "Besides, you really need some help with those coffee addicts out there."

"Yes, please." said Isaac groaning. "This morning was horrible." he whined rubbing his face with both hands.

Stiles winced a bit. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's just that when I'm fidgety about something I tend to go out for a run."

"Don't worry about that." the blonde boy made dismissive gesture with his hand. "Besides, it was kind of a warm up for future heavy shifts."

"That's the spirit." Stiles smiled.

"Indeed." sounded a voice behind Stiles, making the scrawny teen freeze while Isaac just darted his eyes toward the other person. "It's good to see you'll be giving it your best, Isaac." The blonde boy nodded happily.

"Thanks Heather." she smiled at him.

Stiles, on the other hand, was still frozen on his spot. His body made a slight shiver when he felt Heather's heavy glare on him.

"As for you Stiles, can you please tell me just where the hell were you? Danny told me that you specifically said, and I quote: 'Don't worry, I can skip my morning class to help the new guy.' So?" she gave him a questioning stare, her brows rose almost disappearing under her bangs.

"I-I-I was just distracted," he said not really being able to come up with a decent excuse. The disbelieving look on the girl's face made it clear. "You know, stress in all can take the toll on you." his arms started to flail making weird gestures. "So I just started to arrange thoughts, make patterns, wonder how my many possible decisions could affect my future with in-"

"Stiles." she abruptly said, interrupting the rambling. "You're closing tonight." And without another word she left a gaping Stiles in the back room of the loft, heading to the counter to attend more customers.

"I guess it's safe to say that I'll be seeing more things like those from now on, huh?" Isaac smirked, also leaving Stiles to his thoughts as he joined Heather in the front.

As he stood there alone, and after the initial shock of Heather's words, Stiles' arms finally slumped down to his sides. He let out a heavy breath as he rolled his eyes, it seemed like he was in for a rough shift today. The sound of the door opening behind him snapped him back to reality. Turning around he saw Isaac picking up a few trays and taking them to the front.

"Heather says that if you plan on sulking all day on the back room, then you better do something useful." Without another words the curly haired teen was gone.

Sighing once more Stiles went to check on the supplies, he might as well make use of his time baking while Heather helped in the front. Not that he wasn't happy to see the girl helping, but he could really wish that sometimes she would just let up on picking on him. He didn't mind so much, because he knew her since they were little kids and he was used to the blonde's nature. So without wishing to be yet again nagged by her Stiles began to mix, whisk and bake to his heart's content with all kinds of recipes he could think of, happily starting to hum a song as he went from one side of the place to another.

"Hey, Stiles." Isaac's voice came from behind him. Incredibly this time, Stiles wasn't startled.

"What's up?" he asked continuing with his task.

"Where's the janitor closet? Some guy just spat his cappuccino." he said wrinkling his nose in disgust.

Stiles laughed. "You're gonna see that a lot, believe me." Turning around to face Isaac he tilted his head towards one door on the corner of the backroom. "Everything you need is in there."

"Sweet, thanks man." Stiles turned around hearing the rustles of the brooms being moved around. "By the way, Stiles."

"Yeah?"

"Heather wanted me to ask you if you could go get some packages from the storage, though she didn't tell what kind of packages they were."

"Oh, it's just some new tray and mug models she wanted to show to our boss. Also probably some supplies of sugar and stuff like that." Stiles giggled. "Heather says we need some new image and remodeling."

"Really? I think the old appearance looks better, more appealing."

"Everybody knows that but, oh well, that's just the way Heather is." Stiles put out a tray of fresh baked cookies, leaving them over one of the counters. "Could you please take this tray to the front? These are for the display counter." Isaac nodded taking the tray away disappearing behind the door to the front. Stiles in, the meantime, took of his cooking apron and, using it to brush off some leftovers from his baking session, headed for the exit.

Rushing out through the same door Isaac went through, Stiles quickly got out of the old building, starting his way to the general storage the campus had to receive the mail. He was humming as he paced along the paved roads of the college, looking around at the several students spread out in the lawn or sitting in the benches of the side. The morning sun was bathing away everything in rays of warm as it kept climbing up in the sky, making the young slim boy feel more energized for the first time in a Monday.

Weird how he hadn't even considered that fact.

Probably this was a good sign that this Monday wouldn't be so shitty as they usually tended to be.

So without even remembering the events of last night, Stiles kept walking down his path.

Hopes of a good day looming ahead of him.

Or so he had thought.

---

Allison and Lydia stuttered (actually it was more Lydia than Allison) down the sidewalk of the parking lot as they both got out of their respective classes, Lydia from her class of Number Theory and Allison from her Biochemistry class. As they walked making small talk about a new mall that had opened just last weekend Allison's phone went off, the air around them filled with a cheesy love song blasting from the girl's jeans.

Lydia rolled her eyes while side glancing her friend. "Seriously Allison? 'Beautiful Soul'? Of all the cheesy love songs in the world you had to choose that one?"

"Hey! There's nothing bad with being romantic, and I think it's really cute." she defended pulling out the device and shutting off the song. The screen showed one text message from Scott.

"Cute, huh?" the redhead girl said, narrowing her eyes as if deciphering something from the girl. "So did Scott set that song for you as a ringtone?" Lydia grinned victoriously when he saw her friend blushing.

"And that's why it's cute." she said abruptly while starting to furiously type a reply to text she got.

"Well, for starters Scott can be a real romantic sap, right?" she said with a teasing tone.

"Hey! It's not like everybody can afford jewelry or expensive stuff like Jackson." Allison said, immediately regretting her words. "Oh my god, Lydia, Sorry I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay." she quickly interrupted with a dismissive gesture. "Really, Allison, it's no big deal."

After walking a few more steps in deep silence, Allison started to suffer what Scott called the 'Stiles Effect #1' that being becoming all fidgety and nervous for not being able to speak for periods of time longer than a minute.

"I haven't spoken to him." the voice of Lydia came suddenly.

"What?" Allison's question came more from the fact behind the statement than anything else.

"I tried calling him a few times during the weekend, but he never answered my calls nor returned my messages." Lydia started shaking her head. "And whenever he gathered the balls to call me or text me I didn't bother."

Allison groaned. "Lydia..."

"I know, I know." she said letting out a sigh. "I guess we're both way too proud and stupid for our own good."

"Why exactly happened all of this?"

"As far I know, it's mostly because his father." she said twisting her lips with a disapproval look on her face, as if something was personally offending her. "Something to do with a very important case that is forcing them to move out."

"A case?" asked Allison with disbelief. "Since when a case forces a lawyer to move out of the city, or the country for that matter, together with all of his family?"

"When I asked Jackson the same the only thing he did was to stare at the ground." Lydia answered in a more annoyed tone.

"I wonder what could be wrong." Allison wondered tilting her head.

"Well, whatever it is, if he can't trust me enough to tell me the truth then I personally don't care." the redheaded girl said, clearly still mad at the blonde boy and clearly caring about the whole thing.

The dark brown haired girl smiled at her friend. "Well then lets talk about more cheerful things, like for example..." she paused looking around while gathering her thoughts, but when she saw Lydia's eyes making a dumb stare she got worried. "Lydia are you okay? What's wrong?"

The redhead girl remained quiet and simply grabbed the other girl's chin, turning her around to make Allison look at the source of her stupor. The Argent girl's mouth dropped… just a little.

Both girls were staring at the corner of the parking lot, said corner had that special parking rail for bikes and other several marked spots to park motorbikes. One of the spots in the motorbike parking lot was being occupied by a large black bike, which to the girls looked really badass, while a man stood by the side looking around as if he had no idea where to go to. The man standing there was all dressed up in different shades of gray and black, together with those really worn out jeans, the leather jacket, the boots and the dark glasses covering his eyes he had an air of bad boy practically reeking the entire space around him. Both girls had to agree that the attire benefited his quite noticeable and incredible physique, which had the black t-shirt all stretched up.

While both Allison and Lydia had to concede that the whole bad boy look was quite appealing, each girl had her own thoughts about it. Allison was obviously wondering how his cute puppy smiling boyfriend would look like that, while Lydia went more for the psychological aspect of the man dressing as a bad boy. Mostly because the shades of gray and black in the guy screamed to her the words 'broody' and 'closed.' Before saying anything the redheaded girl turned to her friend, Allison had this look that said that while she was eyeing the guy, her mind was doing background work on something else. Lydia sighed before snapping her fingers in front of Allison's eyes, when Allison startled and turned her eyes Lydia was giving her that characteristic smile of hers.

"I'll tell you now before you even try something: Scott doesn't really fit into a bad boy look, he's way to smiley and all puppy eyed to fit such character."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." Allison stuttered, tearing her eyes off from her friend and trying to take interest in some tree to her right.

"Seriously, Allison." she give her a look. "I just wouldn't fit Scott." Lydia flips her hair before grabbing Allison hand, "Now let's see if we can help Mr. Broody over there."

Before Allison could even mutter a single protest she was being dragged down the sidewalk towards the biker guy who was still looking around and glancing his phone every now and then. By the time they both made it to the guy's side, who kept eyeing his surroundings and probably trying to figure the layout, Allison couldn't help but feel that Lydia was about to yet again make her way into a person's private life, and since she has always been kind of shy she started feeling how her heart rate picked up when Lydia spoke to the stranger.

"Excuse me," Lydia says making the man turn his to them. "Is there anything we can help you with?"

The man looked at the girl, as if he was deciding whether to answer her question or just ignore her. "I suppose you could."

Allison has to repress a giggle when she saw her friend raising an eyebrow, the look on her face clearly saying 'Of course I can you moron, just who do you think I am?' which is why she quickly interceded. "If there's a place you're looking for I can tell you, I know pretty much the whole layout of the campus." The light brown haired girl gestured to her friend. "But if you're looking for someone Lydia is the person to go to, she knows pretty much everyone in this place." At this Lydia tilted her chin up in pride.

The man rose his eyebrows as if he was still trying to correctly process those statements, which made Lydia comment on it. "Such things are to be expected when Allison," she gestured to her friend, "has incredible orientation skills and I," she now gestured herself, "have impressive social abilities."

The man snorted. "This is my lucky day." he said in an obvious sarcastic tone as Lydia rolled her eyes.

Allison, who was already anticipating the Bossy-fit boiling into Lydia's blood, immediately said. "Well, anyway, you just seemed like you could use some help. We're really sorry for intruding." She apologized while trying to push Lydia away.

"Actually I could use some help." the man said, quickly causing the girls to stop on their tracks. The guy lightly bowed his head, "I apologize for the sarcastic tone, it's just that I thought it was funny that two people, with just the exact ability I needed at the moment, showed up before me." he chuckled. "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"Oh no, seriously, it's okay, no need to do that." Allison quickly said.

Lydia cleared her throat gaining the other two's attention. "Well then , what do you need help with?" giving the man her ever so mysterious grin.

The dark man repressed a shudder, deciding that the grin thing was kind of creepy. "Well you see, I'm looking for a friend of mine. His name is Isaac Lahey, I was told I could find him at the Wolfsbane Loft."

"Lahey?" asked Lydia. "Tall with curly blonde hair, big bright puppy eyes and a smile that would rival Scott's?" While the man was nodding at every remark from the redheaded girl he kind of frowned in confusion at that last one, stopping half way through a nod.

"I'm sorry, who?" he asked, his eyebrows coming together.

"Hey that's not true!" defended Allison.

"Then your friend must be that knew barista guy I saw in the morning." Lydia said in recognition, ignoring the guy's question and Allison's cry.

The dark man sighed and shook his head. "Anyway, do you know where can I find him?"

"Sure, the Loft is actually really close. Follow me." and with that Lydia turned around, flipping her long strawberry blonde hair.

The tall guy, not really having any room for discussion, traced behind the girl walking beside Allison. When he side glanced the other girl, he saw a small smile that reflected a silent apology for any discomfort that her friend's attitude may have caused or was causing him, to which he only offered a dismissive gesture to let her know that it was no big deal.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot." Lydia said, suddenly turning around and forcing the guy to abruptly stop a few inches just away from her. Allison made a startled stop as well. "My name is Lydia, as you may have already heard, and she Allison," the man side glanced receiving another shy smile and a quick wave.

"Okay." he simply said. When he saw both girls looking at him expectantly, Allison trying to hold back a smile and Lydia having this look on her face that said that she was about to twist someone's bowels, he frowned in confusion. "What?"

The redhead girl groaned, and rolled her eyes turning around. "Oh my god, I just can't believe this." She resumed her march, not even looking back to see if the guy and Allison were following behind.

Feeling a little bit lost the man turned to Allison, who was trying to control the shaking in her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Lydia is not the most patient person in the world." The man's frown deepened.

"Seriously," Lydia said, making the guy turn his eyes to the back of her skull, "all the looks in the world and he had to have the social skills of a jammed engine." At this the man started scowling, trying to drill holes into the girl's skull with his glare.

Allison, who was witnessing what she thought to be the most impressive glare she had ever seen in her life, interceded clearing her throat first. "The thing is that we haven't heard your name yet."

The guy's eyebrows rose in realization, the girl had introduced themselves and he hadn't even utter a single letter of his name. "Oh, I'm sorry." he cleared his throat. "Derek, my name's Derek."

"Nice to meet you Derek." said Allison with her dimpled smile.

While Derek's lips tried to twitch into a slight smile for the smiling girl, his features quickly changed back into a hole-drilling-glare when Lydia's groan reached their ears. Allison simply kept the pace while shaking her head and giggling.

They made little to no talk while walking together.

---

The waiting room is crowded.

As the speakers in the hospital make an announcement to some members of the staff from time to time more and more people come into the already cramped waiting room of the hospital, Laura is one of the few people who were lucky enough to find an available seat. The Hale woman was randomly going through web pages on her smartphone as she was waiting for her turn, rolling her eyes in amusement every now and then to the stupid things that came up in her google searches. Her eyebrows rose up in surprise when the screen went black and began flashing Peter's name, she was almost immediately hitting the call button.

"Talk to me."

"I gotta say, between you and Derek, you at the very least have better manners in greeting people." the voice on the other side paused. "Though I can't say that's really a compliment."

"No, is not." Laura snorted. "Remember that anything or anyone that doesn't frown or glare by default can be better at greeting people." she couldn't hold back a smile when the she heard a chuckle through her phone. "Anyway, what's up my dear and most incredible uncle?"

"Why do I feel like you wanna butter me up for something?" he asked amused.

"Was I the one who called first?"

"Touché."

"Ok, so do you need something?"

"Well..." Peter made a pause while doing a humming sound in the back of his throat, "I was just wondering..."

"Peter, cut to the chase." Laura rolled her eyes when the man paused again, she could already feel something coming.

"Okay, okay, geez, I swear you're just like your mother. Anyway, you see I'm in downtown right now." 'Of fucking course' she thought. "I think I'm gonna need a ride later today."

"Peter, what the hell are you doing in downtown without a ride?"

"Well you see, I wanted to have a nice Monday morning just ogling around without having to worry about parking... or getting arrested." Laura first giggled and then frowned as the words settled on her.

"How did you manage to get to downtown without a ride?" she asked cautiously.

"I have friends." he simply stated.

"The why don't you just call your friends?"

"Am I sensing hostility?"

"No, it is simple curiosity towards obvious facts." she retorted.

Peter sighed. "I swear to god, you kids just keep turning more evil every day. Fine! I'll take a taxi back home. Happy?"

Laura chuckled. "Be careful on your way back. Love you Peter."

"If anything happens to me I'm holding you responsible. Love you too. Bye." and with that the line was off.

The Hale girl had to fight back the chuckling while shaking her head, it was quite amusing to hear Peter constantly calling her and her siblings 'kids' and then learning about all the weird and immature things Peter did from time to time (that is to say all the time). But what had really put her off from that conversation was the fact of Peter saying that he was all the way in downtown without a ride to go back. Bullshit. If she remembered correctly (which she did because Laura Hale doesn't let go even of the most little unimportant detail just like that, thank you very much) this morning she had heard a car pulling out of the garage while she was having breakfast, when she glanced outside the window she saw Derek's Camaro driving down the road which struck her as odd since she had check Derek's room on her way down and saw his dear baby brother growling and grunting as usual with a frown on his face. Cora had told her that since Derek was taking the day off from work today (which now that Laura thought about it made sense, considering how Derek returned late last night) she had asked him about doing her a little favor, or more accurately doing a favor for Isaac, which only consisted of Derek driving to the campus to deliver some notes for the curly haired teen. So if her baby brother didn't have the Camaro-?

"Laura Hale!" the voice of a nurse came shouting through before the Hale girl could continue her line of thought.

A few minutes later Laura was sitting down on one of those incredibly uncomfortable hospital beds which doctors used to examine their patients, the nurse that lead her there was long gone and now she was waiting for someone to come and attend her. Before long a doctor came through the door, it was a woman probably in her mid or late 30's, brandishing a wide and warm smile that only a mother could do when smiling to her beloved child.

Laura felt a warm fuzzy tingle of relaxation and, for some unknown weird reason, nostalgia.

"Hey there." she greeted with her smile. "How are we doing today…. umm..." she paused taking the file by the table and quickly searching for the girl's name. "...Laura." she smiled again.

She chuckled. "I'm doing pretty fine doc." Laura said smiling.

The doctor turned around giggling and smiling preparing some things for Laura's checkup, the Hale girl on the other hand just couldn't keep her face from doing the typical Hale-frown. For some reason her mind was trying to remind her of something, but she just couldn't put a finger on it.

"Melissa." she said.

"I'm sorry, what?" the sudden voice had startle Laura.

"You can call me Melissa." she turned around smiling again.

Laura felt yet again that odd fuzz mixed with nostalgia.

---

Last minute studying.

He always had to resort to that.

Specially whenever he started to procrastinate because he got distracted during his study sessions with whatever shit felt like going through his brain at that moment, and unfortunately that also extended to stupid things like watching a fly's flying pattern. Seriously. Sometimes it would amaze him how easy it was to get distracted with even the most little thing, and this was considering he was bros with probably the most ADHD guy in the world who couldn't focus for long periods.

Yeah, Scott still wonders about that one.

As more students enter the classroom Scott scolds himself again for allowing his mind to wonder, again, and promptly resumes his reading. It isn't long before he hears his Chemistry teacher, Mr. Harris (who, by the way, is the worst douchebag in the story of teachers), appearing in the classroom ordering everyone to take a seat and muttering something about stupid Mondays. Harris begins his class by writing some formulas about biocomponents in the blackboard while saying something about them as well and almost everyone is groaning, inwardly of course, because Mr. Harris is always happy to find excuses to send someone into detention, that's just how much of a dick he usually is.

Scott is now dropping his head on the table because he should've seen this coming. Harris is the kind of jerk who likes to postpone any test until the last minutes of the class, and since the teacher is always looking for students who're not listening to him it meant one had the risk to be kicked out of the classroom and miss the test. After one whole hour of mega boring class Harris finally told the class to prepare for their test, one of the teacher's arrangements was to shuffle the students' seats. Scott immediately lamented this since he used to sit together with some kid who was the most nerdy of the room, but now he would have to sit with some random other student who, considering his luck, would most likely be just as useless in chemistry as him.

"Stop whining." a voice sounded right beside him.

Scott groaned without moving his face from his desk. "I usually sit right behind the nerdy guy, I'm entitled to complain."

"Well, I also sit near some smart kid and I'm not bitching. So quit it." the voice hissed.

"Ok, listen you-" his comeback came to a stop when he finally lift his face to turn to his new neighbor.

Scott's jaw was almost burrowing the floor when he saw the girl right beside him, he was probably making the worst and most stupid face in the world because the girl was glaring at him with a mix of disgust and confusion. With his brain short circuiting Scott started to spurt gibberish.

The girl's glare turned to a confused frown. "What the hell are you even saying?"

"I just- It's just- I mean-"

"Mr. McCall, Miss Hale, unless you both wish to continue your so important and eloquent conversation outside in the hallway then I suggest you both remain silent. Thank you very much."

With that Harris handed them their respective tests, continuing with the other students.

"Listen," she called getting Scott's attention, "I studied very hard for this test, so if you ruin it for me I'll make sure you remember who is Cora Hale." she growled lowly.

"Okay," said Harris in a loud voice, "now that each of you delinquents has a test in hand, please start failing them."

Every teen in the classroom started furiously writing away in the paper.

As every student in the room got lost on his or her own internal world, Scott couldn't stop side glancing to his right. Cora, who was trying her hardest to squeeze every last drop of information she had stored in her brain during the weekend, couldn't help a side glance every now and then as well, with the exception that her glances were more like glares of death. As if daring the kid beside her to say anything stupid that could earn him a punch in the face.

Little did they know that an interesting development would rise from this encounter.

---

The office was a boring place.

So boring that Jackson could almost hear the walls snoring of boredom.

Or maybe that was just him dozing off every now and then.

Of course, it was his and only his fault alone that he was trapped in this fucking boring place sulking, instead of being a man and facing reality like a fully matured adult. Too bad Jackson Whittemore had trouble being one.

It had been a rough weekend, what with the whole 'Ignoring Lydia' thing going on and the constant calls and callbacks going back and forth from Lydia to Jackson and then backwards, it was a little hard for him to focus on pretty much everything. That very Monday morning he had woken up with one of the worst headaches he had ever experienced (even worse than the headache he got from that hungover with Danny during high school), he felt so tired and so listless that he could barely keep his eyes open. He had practically dragged his humanity from the bed to the shower and down stairs to the living room, his whole body was almost pouring out misery and darkness worse than a Tim Burton movie and emo musical video mixed together. He was practically sucking out all the colors around him. Which is why his father had taken the decision to let him skip college, taking him to his office.

He didn't have enough strength to actually care where he could sulk.

In the long hours of the morning, hours that felt more like centuries to him, he just sat there in the middle of the waiting room of his father's lawyer office. Monday mornings were usually the busiest days for his father's law firm, receiving cases one after another that would usually fill the quota for a very busy week. He wanted that, Jackson had admired his father since long, the way he would always determine if a person was innocent or not, how he would always be able to know if someone was worthy of being defended against an unfair sue, Jackson admired the way his father handled every single case with both professionalism and passion.

He wanted to be like that.

He wanted to be just as dedicated and passionate as his father was.

He really wanted to be a full mature man who did good for others.

However, he still had ways to go. And if there was any proof of that then all he needed to do was to look at how he had been handling things with his girlfriend.

A true shame.

But it was for the best.

Despite everything Jackson still loved Lydia.

He loved her so much that he was willing to do whatever it was needed in order to protect her from harm, and not even a single and yet weird threat would make him-

"Excuse me." a voice sounding a few steps to his right interrupted his line of thought, causing the blonde boy to turn his head. "Is this David Whittemore´s office?"

The blonde boy eyed the man for a few seconds. "That depends," he said giving him a calculating look, "Who are you and what do you want?" Jackson knew better than to be that rude with people who wanted to hire his father. Usually it was David who judged that, but seeing recent event of the past weekend the blonde teen didn't really care about anything but his family.

The man cocked an eyebrow but answered nonetheless. "Well, I'm a man who seeks counseling from an highly accepted lawyer." He said putting his hand behind his back, with the most smugly and irritating look Jackson had ever laid eyes on.

The blonde stood up from his seat crossing his arms over his chest, his face had an annoyed look. "And what would be the identity of this man who seeks counseling from my father?"

The man smiled, as if something had dawned on him. "ah, so you're Whittemore's son." it was more a statement than a question.

Jackson cocked an eyebrow. "Yes," he said slowly, "but I still don't know who the hell you are." He said a little bit more abrasive than what he had intended. He knew he was being totally rude, be the boy couldn't really bring himself to care.

The man smirked, making Jackson tense from irritation. "Well, if you must really know who I am, then let's just say I am an old acquaintance of David."

The blonde merely cocked an eyebrow. "Because that says a lot doesn't it"

The man snorted. "Okay, kid, listen. Whatever it is you are afraid of-"

"I'm not afraid."

"Or may be afraid of," he continued unfazed, "There's no need to be that jumpy with everyone who comes in here wanting to do business."

The teen remained silent, scowling at the man for a few seconds only to finally say. "My father is busy with some clients right now."

"Ever the businessman." he paused to chuckle. "Well, then I'll take my leave." The older man notice how the teen seemed to relax with those words but made no comment about it as he turned around. "Just make sure to tell you dad that a friend came by."

Jackson grunted, not really sure if he was just dismissing the older dude or accepting to pass on the message. Remaining completely silent as he eyed the man's every step to the door, his whole body tensing when the older man stopped right before exiting the office.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot," the man said slightly turning his head to glance at Jackson from the corner of his eye, "I get it that protecting family is a reason to give this tough appearance but..." he made another pause and sighed, "You should do something about your nervous sweat if you want that work."

Jackson quickly ran a hand through his forehead, drops of heavy hot sweat soaking his palm.

"See you around Jackson." and with that the man was gone.

Jackson was dumbstruck. Such was the state of his shock that he didn't even notice the moment when the people who had been talking with his dad left the office passing just by his side, nor did he even notice the door opening and closing behind them. Not until he heard some paper sheets being shuffled back in the office. Probably his father folding away some official papers or something.

The blonde had to put behind all thought for now.

As Jackson recovered from his stupor he slowly paced into his dad's office, carefully eyeing the man who was sitting in his big plushy chair with the back turned to the door as he was putting away some folders into his file cabinet.

"Something wrong, son?" his father asked without turning around.

Jackson jumped a little startled by his father's sudden voice. "N-no everything is, everything's cool. It's just that… " he paused and started to squirm, unsure if he should say something.

"Just that what?" the kept rummaging through his cabinet.

The blonde sighed, finally deciding to tell his father. "It's just that a guy came bye while you were busy."

"Did he leave any message or something?"

"Not really, he just came and asked for you, but when I told him you were busy he just left." he paused again; he was having a bad feeling about this. "But… well, he did ask me about telling you something."

The lawyer only made a humming sound, signaling his son to continue.

"Well, he asked me to tell you that… a friend came by." he remarked the same word.

Mr. Whittemore, who up until now had his back to his son, stopped what he was doing and slightly turned his head back to the blonde boy. Side glancing the teen. "A friend?" he remarked the same word and as he saw the boy nodding he narrowed his eyes and added. "Can you describe him, please?"

The blonde scratched his forehead trying to remember. "Well, he was like 5'9'' tall, slight build up complexion, with darkish hazel hair and, I swear to god dad, the had the most disturbing and creepiest smile I've ever seen in my life." He shivered at the memory. "Seriously, a total creep."

David, who was paying close attention to his son's description, suddenly felt a shiver running down his spine. So to not let Jackson notice this he quickly turned around going back to shuffle things in his cabinet. "I see, thanks for telling me son."

"Dad? Are you sure is okay?" he cocked an eyebrow, unsure how to take his father's reaction. Although it was somewhat relaxnig that the blonde knew him very well to know that something was off.

"Everything is fine." He quickly said. "I happen to know someone just like your description, so don't worry."

"Okay, dad." he said after a minute of silence. Not really in the mood to argue Jackson stepped out of the office closing the door behind him.

He knew something was off and he was willing to bet his ever trusty Porsche that his dad was not telling him something about that guy, which was really creepy. But he would let it go for now, because right now he had too many things on his head and they were all coming back to his mind.

Jackson could be many things, but he was always trying his best to be a better person, a better man. Despite social shit and all he was a softie for the people he cared about (not that he would willingly show it to others), and he would always be willing to help them in any way... Even if it meant doing something really hard.

'Dad… Lyds...'

---

"Could you please stop that?" he asked all annoyed and somewhat with a hint of despair.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." it was a lie.

"I can clearly see you're enjoying this way too much, Derek." the blonde boy frowned at the older boy.

"I just like my coffee," he shrugged in dismay and took a sip, "I love a good hazel flavored coffee." he said smiling.

"Yeah, of course." Isaac replied narrowing his eyes at Derek.

"Oh yeah." Derek answered turning his stool around.

He felt relaxed.

The so famous Loft he had heard about from Cora and those girls he met on the parking lot was a really nice cozy place to hang around with your friends, either for the pure pleasure of just being here because of the atmosphere, which was really nice, or because both the coffee and the pastries were incredibly delicious. And right now, as Derek was munching down his third cinnamon roll, he thought he could hardly disagree with that one. Those girls were right about the food.

Now that he thought about it Derek took a long look around the place; his eyes, still hidden behind those dark glasses, acted like scanners as he searched for those two girls he met a little while ago. If he remembered correctly the shy good mannered one was Allison and the blunt bossy one was Lydia. Yeah, at first he had a hard time dealing with those two, mostly with Lydia and her outspoken ideas, but those two girls, if mostly Allison because she at the very least was decent enough to not be so nosy as the other one, turned out to be quite the nice company, a little awkward but still.

They had made a good company as the girls lead him to the building in which Cora had said the loft was, and it wasn't really that much of a walk. On their way there they had tried to make small talk, Derek had obliged by grunting every now and then or saying short answers that didn't need more than 'yes' or a 'no.' Lydia rolled her eyes at him, grumbling something about 'how the fuck can you look like that and be as socially active as the vesuvius?' which in return had owned her a few glares. Allison had only been giggling all the way there. After reaching the loft Derek thanked them for showing him the way and bid them farewell as he made his way to the counter to ask for Isaac, since he was engrossed on finding the curly haired teen he didn't look back to see where the girls had gone to.

Laura would've laughed her ass off.

Usually Derek wasn't really eager for chit chat that didn't involve business things, that's why outside his job the Hale boy wasn't much of a social guy, that is to say 'none at all.' He was usually invited to a lot of social events and parties, but he would only make an appearance if need and stay for a few minutes before coming up with an excuse to leave. Those were not his kind of parties, too many unknown people, too many fake smiles, too many hidden motives. That's why he would always be there for family things: birthday parties, camping trips, weekend barbecues, and so on. He was more happy being with the people he loved because he knew he could trust them without any doubt of any kind, and that they would always return that trust with sincerity.

Derek knew perfectly how to separate profession from pleasure.

However, in recent days he had been constantly surprised by how much of socializing he had done. Because actually agreeing to be with people he didn't know nothing about amazed even him. Both Lydia and Allison had given him a feeling he had not felt since long from foreign people, from people who were not his family, from people he couldn't think of as friends.

That warm feeling.

A feeling he had felt not long ago.

A warm feeling spreading through his body.

Something new.

'I'll be waiting.'

The memory of that voice echoed in his mind.

Indeed, it was because of that warm feeling that certain boy had caused.

'Spark.' the name in his mind ringed like a bell.

He felt his gut wrenching, a tight knot forming in his throat.

Derek shook his head in dismay; this was not the time or place to be thinking about that. So after paying for the pastries and his coffee and saying goodbye to Isaac, Derek started pacing to the exit once again allowing to engross himself in the memories of that night. He was so lost in his inner world that he didn't hear a voice calling out at random, suddenly he was hitting something and back staggering to finally fall on his ass.

There was a loud thud, and the sound of many boxes falling and rolling around the floor as well as two voices growling a loud complain. When Derek opened his eyes to see the idiot who rammed into him that feeling once again pulled a punch right at him, but this time it came very differently.

Right before his eyes there was a teen, the most flimsy boy he had ever laid eyes upon was right before him and his baggy clothes are a perfect example of just how lean and slim he was. Still that lingering thought didn't stop Derek from getting a sense of deja vu.

His brain took every minimal detail of the other boy: camouflage styled cargo pants, a dark green colored long sleeve henley with the emblem of green lantern in both shoulders ('kind of geeky'), dark green converse, a dark purple colored apron matching his purple shaded glasses, long and bony fingers, a layer of pale and mottled skin displayed perfectly in his face and neck, short brown hair sticking out in all directions, and finally thin lips with a hint of red in the lower lip ('he probably bites it from time to time' he thought making his throat going dry).

"Derek!" Isaac call forced the older boy to snap out of his thoughts. Soon the blonde boy was kneeled beside him, checking out for injuries.

Derek turned his look to the other boy, a girl with the same apron and glasses was checking him. "Stiles, are you okay?" 'Stiles.'

The boy groaned again. "Yeah, I'm fine, no problem." The boy shook his head, probably trying to shake off the daze after colliding. "Man, talk about ramming into a wall of bricks." Derek frowned at that.

"Derek, you okay?" he returned his gaze to his blonde friend, losing his frown and nodding to the boy.

"Everything okay?" the voice of the boy named Stiles ('Stiles? What kind of name is that?') made both of them turn their eyes to him.

"Yeah, nothing broken over it seems." answered Isaac chuckling.

"Thank god." said Heather sighing in relief. "Okay Mr. Clumsy," she said to Stiles who turn to her, "you better pick up this disaster quick, there's baking to be done. Isaac, please help Stiles while I get back to attending the register, okay?" At the blonde's nod she went back to the counter to attend people.

As Derek started getting up on his feet, Isaac quickly went to the other boy's side helping him to gather every scattered box that the kid was bringing in. The young Hale boy stared at them, or more precisely he stared at the slim boy, at Stiles.

There was a feeling rising in his gut, a mixture of amazement and curiosity with a little spice of anger. His eyebrows rose as the thought of anger. Why was anger mixed up in the formula? He had no idea, but one thing was clear, for whatever reason that his mind had to conceal the answer away from him, this boy called Stiles made his gut wrench with distaste and curiosity at the same time.

"There, this is the last one." Isaac said as he was picking the last box. The pile was now split between the two boys.

"Sorry dude, I was the one supposed to be carrying all of these." The slim kid was making an apologetic smile. Derek's stomach made a back flip.

"Is okay man, no worries. Let's just hurry up before Heather starts to maim us with her eyes." both teens laughed. The blonde side glanced the older boy. "Well, gotta get back to work. See you around Derek." The young Hale nodded and the blonde boy passed by. "Thanks for bringing me my notes by the way, I owe you one." He said without looking back to Derek.

"I'll make sure of that." he saw the blonde boy waving at him. When he turned around he found the other kid, Stiles, alternating his eyes between him and the floor. The Hale boy frowned. "What?" he said, his tone coming out so harshly that it even surprised him.

He saw Stiles flinching a little bit from the question; he seemed a little bit fidgety. "Yeah, well you see, I just wanted to apologize. I mean, well, with the whole bumping into each other and stuff, so yeah, sorry dude." Stiles made an apologetic smile, however this one felt a little bit warmer for some unknown reason which caused a flutter in the older boy.

Derek's brain ordered him to reject that feeling… and also to be a dick.

"Well then, next time make sure to fucking see where you're going before you run someone over." Though the frown on the tone made his words dead serious, Derek was immediately regretting those words.

Stiles gaped in disbelief. "Oh, yeah? Well excuse me for carrying a fuck lot of supply boxes to allow people to eat pastries and drink coffee."

"As long as you don't touch them cause that would spoil them." Derek was now starting to hate even himself for his comments.

"Fuck you! For your information, I am the one who bakes most of the stuff here and a lot of people happen to love it just so you know." the boy said in furious tone, his arms were making weird gestures because they were busy holding up the boxes. Derek figured that he wanted to flail them around.

"Then I guess you been doping them with weird shit so they get to like your baking." the Hale boy smirked, crossing his arms when the teen gaped again.

"Well then, no pastries for you Mr. Asshole." Stiles retorted.

"Good, because I would've probably just puked with the first bite." That was lie. Derek had already tasted two muffins and three cinnamon rolls, but the boy didn't need to know that.

"In that case," Stiles said as he passed intentionally bumping into Derek's arm, "Get the fuck out and don't bother coming again you dick."

"Is that so? Then I'll definitely come again." Derek smirked when he saw the boy completely stopping and making no sign of turning around. He could almost hear the boy's eyebrows twitching.

"Well tough shit because I wouldn't let you in." he said still without turning around.

"Wouldn't your boss be mad at you for refusing a customer?" Derek once again felt victorious when the boy turned narrowing his eyes at him.

"She wouldn't if told her just how much of an asshole you're being to me."

Derek smirked once again. "So does that means that other people have complained about you with justified reason?" He also count it as one more victory when he sees Stiles opening his mouth only to shut it close again. "They say silence says more than words."

"Fuck off." Stiles pouted. The Hale boy had to mentally berate himself for thinking the words 'cute.'

With no more words coming out of either of them they then settle for a staring contest, both boys trying their hardest to send every last of competitive emotion they were holding in their knotted throats. While Stiles made sure to pour out every last ounce of indignation he felt for the taller boy's rude comments Derek on the other hand was trying, with all of his might he should add, trying to hold back the smirk twitching its way out of his lips. He failed miserably, which caused Stiles to glare. Was this how Derek looked when he glared people to death?

"Stiles!" the sudden call made both boys jump all startled. Turning around Derek saw the girl from before, 'what was her name again?'

"H-Hey Heather." the scrawny boy said, a nervous tone hidden in his words.

"Why haven't you taken those to the backroom yet?" she placed her hands on her hips, rising her eyebrow questioningly.

"Well you see-" Stiles was interrupted when Heather placed her palm in front of his face, signaling to stop.

"I don't care what you and your friend-"

"We're not friends!" both boys said at the same time and in the same desperate tone.

An awkward silence settled between them until Heather cleared her throat.

"Either way, whatever you're doing leave it for another time. We have a loft to run and you," she drawled poking Stiles' chest, "have tons of baking to do." And without another word the girl went to get back to the register.

"You heard her." Said Derek, smiling when he saw how his voice startled the slim boy. "Better get back to your drug inducing baking."

Stiles narrowed his eyes. "How about you leave now, huh?" he said looking directly into the older boy's eyes, or more accurately into what the smaller boy could make of Derek's eyes through the dark glasses that the Hale boy was still wearing.

"I don't know, maybe I should maybe I shouldn't." As Stiles kept glaring at him Derek added. "Maybe I should stay and see how many more times you'll fall on your ass. I'm guessing that's a habit for you, isn't it?"

"Okay, listen here you fucker-"

"Stiles! Get a move on!"

"Coming!" the scrawny teen turned one last time to Derek, menacingly pointing a finger at him. "We'll settle things next time, you asshole."

"So you're saying that you will let me in next time I come around after all, huh?"

Derek had to make use of all of his self-control to not laugh when he saw the boy opening his mouth to answer back just to shut it close once again, opting to glare at him and blowing a raspberry. After that Stiles turned around again and started walking away.

"Nice meeting you too." Derek had to repress another laugh when he saw the boy giving him the finger without turning back to him, in a very awkward way consifering how his hands were still busy carrying those boxes.

With another chuckle escaping his lips Derek turned around and started the walk back to the bike as he heard the girl on the register chastising Stiles.

He knew it was wrong the way he handled the situation, deep inside he had wished to say all the opposite of the things he said. With every minute he spent near the kid Derek had this foreign feeling that he couldn't quite name, the only thing he could tell is that it felt… right. And wasn't that a surprise, because Derek Hale (The Derek Hale who was best known for his anti-social behavior and repulsion towards human contact in general, in Laura's words of course) was rarely comfortable around strange people. Something else that had been bothering him at the back of his head was this tingling sensation of deja vu, it was quite disturbing how foreign and yet how warm and familiar it felt.

Before his mind could form any other thought his phone went off.

It was a text message.

---

The door flung open.

"Do you have to be so harsh with the door?"

"Who cares? It's my door anyway and hello to you too by the way." he retorted slamming shut the door.

"Then I should remind you that this," she signaled around, "is my office as well. Also yeah 'hello' or whatever."

The man ignored her words and walked around the room, elegantly sitting down on the big chair behind the desk. He took a moment to sigh and look around, as if he had to assimilate the place he was currently in. Finally turning his eyes to the woman in front of him.

"We both know this isn't about the door or the office, so tell me Kali..." He paused leaning over the desk with his elbows and clasping his hands together. "What's getting you all riled up?"

The woman, who had opted to ignore the man, was reading for the fifth time a couple of papers, as always she focused on her job and nothing else… or so it seemed. "I am not riled up, leave it Deucalion." she said without looking up to her boss.

"Has someone been causing trouble?" he asked tentatively.

"No, of course not. You know very well what I immediately do when something like that happens." she deadpanned.

The man couldn't help but nod in agreement, grimacing by the way. "True." He shifts a little bit in his seat before adding. "Is it a new nickname?"

"After the little stunt with the 'magic hat' shit you should know better than anyone what are the consequences." Finally looking up from her papers, Kali made an evil grin. "Don't forget what happened to both Aiden and Spark."

The man's eyebrows rose at the memory. "Yeah, how to forget that." He said slumping back into his chair. "You practically forced Spark and Aiden to give the Cirque Du Soleil people a run for their money."

"You know very well that those brats earn it themselves." she deadpanned.

"Yeah, even though I told you to be gentle." he grimaced.

"That was me being gentle." she smirked.

Deucalion had to roll his eyes and make a face that said that he couldn't argue with that one. "Well then, are you gonna tell me what's on your mind?" he leaned once again over the desk.

Kali stopped what she was doing, looking up at Deucalion without moving an inch. Her eyes looked mysterious and calculating. "You can certainly be stubborn when you want to."

Deucalion merely nodded at her while smirking.

"Very well then, if you want me to be completely honest..." she paused getting up from her chair and walking towards the big bookseller of the room, taking a small usb and handling it to her boss. "I honestly think that you should stop whatever it is that you want with him." She sat down again, not even sparing a glance.

"'Whatever it is' you say?" he asked, his tone sounding almost incredulous. "Kali, you better than anyone here knows what that means to me." he scoffed. "Even if you didn't know, which it's still a very highly unlikely possibility, I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have taken you this long to figure it out." he crossed his arms.

When the woman looked back at him Deucalion had this look, a daring look as if to say 'You can't argue with that one' to which the woman promptly retorted. "Yeah, I'll give you that much, Deucalion. But the thing is that as much as you like to play around, you should do well to remember what is at stake here." she gritted.

Untangling his arms Deucalion's expression turned dead serious. "'Playing around' you say? Do you honestly think that he is just a game for me? Because I can assure you, I'm being completely serious about this. I knew it since the first time I saw him, when he came here to work, whenever I see him on that stage," he signaled through the two-side mirror window of the office, his tone becoming angrier with every word. He took a breath before adding slowly and in a soft tone. "This is not a game for me, Kali."

Kali, on the other hand, never stopped looking directly into his boss' eyes. Finally standing up and slamming her hands on the desk. "Then do something about it right now, instead of just dancing around the issue. It's not just you, Deucalion, it's about everybody in this place. It will affect us all, and you know that. I'm not about to throw away everything I fought so hard for." She began to walk out of the room, stopping halfway out of the office. "Be careful, Deucalion. Remember that he is a double edged sword, the most dangerous kind of person in this world." And without another word she slammed the door behind her.

The man remained seated, making contemplative sounds in the back of his throat every now and then as he rolled the usb around between his fingers. Eyes narrowing at the sight of the little device.

He knew Kali was right, every last word she said was correct and it was giving him that horrible nagging sense that always got stuck in the back of his mind every time her efficient secretary scolded him. Regardless of how much he was wishing the woman was wrong, he knew better than anyone else to try and contradict her. It never went well.

Indeed.

No matter how much he tried, Deucalion had to admit that being infatuated always brought its downfalls. What was actually bothering him was the fact that nobody seem to understand that this time it was more than just that. True, he had his good amount of adventures and games in the past, more than in one occasion he would always go with his most basic instincts and let his inner animal feast on whatever pleasure he needed. Yeah, he would usually just satisfy those needs and then go on his merry way; however, this time everything was different. He knew very well his own way of being and thinking to admit to himself when things did a 180 degree turn, either for good or bad. Yes, Deucalion knew what was going on with him and knew what it meant for him, but the thing is that he was actually happy with the way things were going and he was not about to let others, much less Kali, to tell him what to do or how to do it.

Feeling satisfied with his own reasoning, Deucalion pulled out a laptop from the left bottom drawer of his desk inserting the usb into one of the ports as soon as the machine was fully operational. As the window popped up he quickly opened one of the several files stored into the usb, the result was a video being displayed in the laptop's monitor. As loud music started to blast from the laptop's speakers the Alpha boss smiled, his lips curved with a contradictory mix of fondness and lust.

"They have no idea how serious I am. They really have no idea of the things I am capable of to get what I want." he smirked.

The video was a record of one of the many performances that The Pack offered, a performance everybody looked forward to on a daily basis.

The performer in display was Spark.

---

A woman walked through the cemetery.

The step-stones that led to the upper part of the hill clacked under the sole of her black heels, each step had the grace of royalty on her figure. Her chin was always tilted upwards, demonstrating the confidence she had and her powerful spirit. Her eyes well focused on the upper end of the rocky steps she was climbing up, a glint of sadness shimmered through her eyes.

She was clad in black.

A long black sleeveless dress that covered as far as her thighs with a black leather belt comfortably snuggling around her waist; a black mantle with tassels in the edges was draped over her uncovered shoulders, hiding her sun kissed skin and covering as far as the small of her back; her hair was long and straight, shining brightly with and ebony gleam under the sun; the clack of her heels made chorus with the jingle of the silver bangles she had in her left wrist.

There was definitely no more words to describe the incredible sight that was Talia Hale.

As she reached the last stepstone her gaze met a sight that caused her heart to clench in sadness, a feeling she had not felt since the last time she visited this place... four years ago to be more precise. In the top of the hill there was a fenced portion of lawn that contained two headstones. The place itself was not really forgotten since it had several fresh flowers growing around; clearly someone came every now and then to make sure the flowers were not withering away. Although the place had several patches of grass growing unevenly, it was clear that these two headstones weren't completely unattended. Since the stone slabs were surrounded by a few bushes and one oak tree, it wasn't all that hard to guess that maybe people didn't imagine there were gravestones on the top of the hill. It was good to see that a few people, the ones who truly cared, came here every now and then.

Talia kneeled in front of the headstone to her right.

Suddenly the light in her eyes faded, her face tainted by the lines of sadness and her breath starting to become heavy. Her left hand was holding two brown whiskey colored lilies. After bowing her head down, as if to be greeting someone, Talia sat on the grass placing a lily in front of each headstone. Her fingers started tracing the words carved into the slab to her right, a single gleaming tear escaping from her eye and tracing down her cheek. The wind started to blow gently as if to dry away that tear, causing her long jet black hair to flutter in the breeze.

"Hi, my old friend." she whispered.

"It's been a long time since I last visited, hasn't it?" an apologetic smile curving her red glossed lips.

"I must apologize first then, I'm sorry." she bowed once more.

"Knowing you as I did, I'm pretty sure your first question would be about what I've been doing since last time I came." she chuckled.

"It's been a rough time, what with the business and all but you know how that stuff goes." a sigh escaped her lips.

"Sometimes it worries me that this lifestyle might end up tearing our family apart so, even now, I try my hardest to stop that from happening." she shook her head dismissively. "But, as always, it seems that I have to thank you yet again for those tips you gave long time ago. They are real lifesavers."

There was another gentle breeze, it seemed to carry a soft giggle with it. Talia smiled as she put her hair behind her ear, pausing to arrange her thoughts.

"My children have grown up into full matured adults…" she paused a bit considering her words, "Well, maybe some of them are not so mature, but they're certainly fully grown up. Although I'm pretty sure you've already seen them from wherever you are, right?" her lips made a full bright smile.

There was a pause as another breeze made the flowers around the graves sway.

"Yours is doing fine," she said suddenly, "I haven't really seen him since that day, sixteen years ago. It has been a long time, but I heard he's doing fine. I was a little surprised to learn he was living on his own, though I can't say it was that much of a surprise considering who his parents were." Talia turned to glance at the other headstone.

"I'm sure both of you must be proud of him." she whispered.

There was another tear rolling down her cheek, probably because of the concern and pride that only a parent can understand.

"All the people who knew you both are suffering for your absence," her whispering voice started to break, "but if there's one thing I'm sure of is that he is suffering like nobody else." a soft sob escaped from her lips.

"I can't even imagine what it's like to live with that pain." she wiped off another tear with the back of her hand, "He's a very strong boy indeed, no wonder where he got his courage and wits from." she chuckled.

Talia paused again, once again tracing the letter in the stone.

Another tear began to roll down.

"Wherever you are, I just hope that you and the sheriff continue to watch over all of us." she tried to brush the tears off. Talia was already crying.

"Claudia..." she whispered before finally giving in.

As she tried to drown the soft sobs the wind began to blow gently one more time, causing the trees and bushes and flowers to sway and whistle with a sad sound. The sound was like a hollowed lament.

The cemetery was crying.

---

A/N: Okay, first things first. I have to thank some of you people who had been sending me private messages, because it is thanks to you people that several of the subtle details that make it to the story are born. And because I'm a guy who enjoys the little details that give that special spice to life, or in this case to the story, well all I can say is that this fic grows more and more with every chapter. So kudos to you guys for that.

I personally feel that this chapter is a little bit weak on the action and speed of things, BUT I really can't help my self to leave things the way they are now. Mostly because I have to say, this chapter suffered several re-writtings before being posted up, so yeah. I hope that my readers who are also writters understand me when I say that sometimes most of things that go on feel more like is the story who tells me what to write insted of me deciding on what to put in. Yeah, I know it sound kind of weird, but that's how it feels.

In case you're wondering, yeah, I'm afraid the next chapter will also be delayed. So sorry again for that one guys, again I'll try my best to not take so much.

As for the story so far, well there you have it, some plots and facts that I hope you people like. Personally I think Derek does the right thing by not allowing Cora to drive the Camaro having in mind how wild she can get, because i personaly don't think I can handle the idea of being a contributor to my brother's accident.

My favorite part is definitely the fight between Derek and Stiles at the loft, because you just know how much hidden feelings you can see between two people who just can stop pushing their buttons.

Well, i stop my hand from typping anymore for now. Don't forget to leave me your thoughts... oh yeah, and happy holidays to those who celebrate Thanksgiving.

See you next time. ;)