And There It Is Ch 4
This seems to be slow build up! The characters are doing what they want at this point and I'm just typing their journeys. Sorry for the delays, I know it's frustrating to wait to see what's going to happen (trust me sometimes I don't even know).
Stiles woke approximately 15 minutes before noon, which he took as an improvement.
He ventured into his closet looking for clean clothes, since he had been lazy for the past few days, ignoring the pile of dirty clothes lying on his bedroom floor. He was a busy guy with all his visits with Syd and Geraldine and the slew of late night dinners he was having with Scott and Allison lately. His foot hit something that rustled and he bent down to find a small box labeled 'my favorite things.' Inside he found a stack of collector cards he had worked so hard on amassing in grade school, stickers, and a bird's nest. He also found the small, yet rather sharp pocket knife that his mother had given him for his 7th birthday. It was engraved with 'To Stiles, something for all your adventures, love mom.' He put it the pocket of his jeans, remembering how the weight felt against his right leg.
He lazed about the house checking his email and sending out several text messages to Scott, Syd, and Geraldine, who despite her brittle bones could in fact, text like a Japanese school girl. After lounging on the couch, he decided to start cooking, since the house was running low on homemade meals. After keeping himself busy with getting the ingredients ready, he turned on the oven, his new best friend. As he set the temperature, his thoughts began to return to him, Geraldine's words ringing in his ears. Time had passed, Stiles had grown. He was different now. But do people really change? Would Derek be different now that he had been an alpha for several years? Or would they fall back into their previous roles. One pushing and the other running?
A knock at his door startled him as he was humming that insanely annoying 'Call Me Maybe' song, which in fact, shoot, he wished a werewolf would.
He answered without looking through the peephole, because who at 2 in the afternoon would want to cause harm to someone like Stiles?
He swung the door open and there, just like the universe had heard his thoughts and for once obliged him out of pity stood Mr. Who Should Not Be Named. Aside from being his usual handsome self, Stiles noticed that the alpha looked unbelievably pale in the sunlight, and was sporting some pretty big bags under his eyes.
"Hi." Stiles blurted out after realizing he was staring.
"Is your father home?" Derek asked.
"No. He's at work."
Derek took a step forward and surveyed the insides of the house, sniffing. Derek didn't exactly think of the Sherriff's station as a cozy place, so it was safe to say that he would rather visit Stiles' dad at home as opposed to a place where his record was on file and his name was on the top three suspects list whenever something weird happened in Beacon Hills.
"Are you hungry? I'm making some chicken parm. Low fat, high protein." Stiles offered trying not to sound awkward.
Derek was slow to respond. His eyes kept surveying the room like a terminator trying to find John Connor before annihilating him with its bare hands.
"When will he be home?" He inquired slowly as if something more important was on his mind.
"I don't know he's working late tonight again. Which in fact." Stiles let it drop. So he needed to have a chat with his dad regarding why he was always working late lately.
"Make sure to stay indoors after sun set." Derek finalized looking through the kitchen window and into the road below.
"Of course officer. " Stiles responded laconically.
Sarcasm baby, it's what's for dinner. Or lunch.
"Were you having someone over?" Derek inquired sharply, turning slightly towards the front of the house.
"No. Well, you know people stop by all the time. I'm just really popular. Comes with the territory."
He could have sworn Derek scoffed.
Why, why, why was he such a spaz around people he thought were cute?
The sound of a car approaching alerted him to movement outside.
A second knock came at the door.
Stiles opened the door to find Mark of all people standing there.
Sweet. Mark and Derek in the same room. This day was starting out to be just super.
"Stiles," Mark breathed, the wistfulness in his voice causing Stile's heart to hiccup.
"What are you doing here?" Stiles urged.
Can I come in? Mark continued, a pleading look in his eyes.
Stiles nodded though the neurons in his brain were firing 'No!' in rapid succession.
Mark stepped into the house and saw Derek. He reached out a hand.
"Hey man, I'm Mark."
Derek started to answer for a moment.
'I'm Stiles' cousin. Nice to meet you."
Nice, remaining nameless. Classy even.
Stiles turned his attention to Mark.
He looked good. Really good. It looked like he had hit the gym or in his case the hiking trails a lot because the dude was looking as muscular as Derek was. His legs looked drool worthy in the pair of fitted jeans he was wearing and a flannel shirt that was rolled up, showing off his sleeve tattoos made him look pretty bad ass. His glasses framed his angular face in an irresistible manner and a new lip ring at the corner of his bottom lip just begged to be tugged at. By Stiles' teeth.
Why did he have to look so damn good?
Mark stood a few feet away from Derek both of their eyes trained on him. Mark looked like he wanted to get into some deep conversation while Derek was looking at him with a confused but irritated look, like a baby being woken from a nap, though with more stubble and angrier looking eyes.
Stiles wondered what it would be like to drop some mud on the two and watch them wrestle. Now that would be something to watch. Or oil. Even jello.
Orange Jell-O.
Wait no, Derek would pulverize Mark. Stiles would have to set some ground rules and make Derek fight with only human power. Yeah that would definitely work. Shirtless Jello wrestling. A sport he could totally get into.
"Stiles." Mark's voice cut through his fantasy.
Stiles regained focus on the scene before him.
"Yeah."
"Can we talk?" Mark continued.
Derek cleared his throat. He didn't need to be a werewolf to know what was about to happen. His face was stoic, unreadable, as he left.
"I'm leaving."
He nodded towards Stiles.
"Remember what I said."
"Derek wait." Stiles started.
But Derek was already shutting the door behind him. Now he and Mark were left all alone. Wait, had Derek wanted to stay for lunch? Had he wanted to talk? Why did he have to stay in after sun set like someone's grandma? What was going on? Why was his dad always working late? Why were people keeping things from him?
Mark was suddenly very close. His eyes sad and lonesome like two stars missing their constellation.
"Why are you here Mark?"
"I had to see you."
"Why."
"You never returned any of my calls, emails, voicemails. All my gifts. The teddy bear. "
The shredded remains of a giant teddy bear were probably rotting in a dumpster somewhere.
"Are you asking why?"
"Look Stiles I know I screwed up. I just want to be with you."
"What happened to you and." Stiles couldn't get himself to finish.
Mark cringed.
"It was a stupid mistake. Please Stiles, everyone's allowed one mistake."
Mark's hands were on his waist. Big hands bringing their bodies together.
"Mark you can get anyone you want."
"I want you." Mark whispered, his lips tickling Stile's neck, making him shudder.
The voices in Stiles head screamed 'Liar!' 'Cheater!' 'Stop!' But Stiles couldn't help reacting physically. At least someone wanted him.
"Mark." Stiles reprimanded feebly.
"I miss you." Mark whispered, sending chills down his spine.
"I want to start over. Just you and me."
That was like an lightning bolt right into the middle of Stiles' forehead.
He pushed himself out of Mark's grip. He remembered.
"Mark why are you here now? You never wanted to come visit my house before."
"I want to. I'll do it. I'm just weird around family and all that."
Stiles stared at him.
"We just weren't going anywhere Mark."
"But I'm ready now. I'm ready to take it all the way."
"Three years has to mean something Stiles." Mark urged his lips dangerously close to his neck, Stiles could feel the warmth. He tried not to react physically.
Stiles searched his feelings. He remembered when he found the adoption certificate. He remembered how he wasn't surprised. He remembered not being unhappy or upset. Even though they had been together for three years. Secrets.
Stiles offered him a reprieve.
"What's my favorite movie?"
Mark looked confused.
"Uh. Star wars." Good job. They only watched it ten times.
"Why?"
Mark looked stumped.
"Because you liked how Darth Vader was his father all along." Mark smiled confidently, his dimples making an appearance.
Wrong. So wrong.
Who was this guy? How could he not know?
Stiles shook his head.
"No Mark, it was because Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia finally take control of their own lives. They save themselves by making the right choices.
Mark looked dumbfounded.
"Mark we were just moving apart." Stiles continued sad that his ex didn't even listen to him when he had talked.
Mark dropped his head, looking at the ground sadly.
He nodded.
He turned to leave, but stopped.
"You know I wasn't the only one cheating in our relationship." Mark said in quiet bitterness.
Stiles looked at him strangely.
"What?"
"You even talk in your sleep, you know that?" Mark continued sadly.
Stiles didn't want him to continue any further.
"During midterms, finals." he resounded.
Mark paused running a hand through his hair.
"He's never going to be with you. You know that."
And with that he walked out. Stiles stood there, his mouth wide open like a gold fish.
It felt like everything was crashing down around him.
Stiles was still sitting on the couch staring into space when the smoke detector screeched on, snapping him out of his thoughts. He rushed to find the chicken burnt beyond recognition. He opened the kitchen windows and tossed the contents into the trash.
His phone chimed several times as text messages came in but he wasn't even present enough to care.
He found himself driving to the old Hale house.
Like a moth to a flame.
When he approached the weathered house, his heart started beating against his chest. He didn't know what he was doing. He checked his phone, Geraldine was asking him what he was doing, Syd was telling him that he had a video cam interview with a prestigious architecture firm and Scott hadn't texted him back, that goofball.
He reached the front door and found it smashed in, the top half practically hanging from the hinge while the bottom half lay shattered on the ground. Light poured in from the outside showing the blackened floor inside.
Stiles became sharply aware, snapping out of his funk. His senses going into overdrive in a fight or flight response.
"Derek" He called cautiously.
No response.
He panicked. Was Derek inside, badly injured?
"Derek" He called again stepping into the house. It was not the smartest thing to do for sure, but Derek could be hurt.
Stiles could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He stepped over the shattered front door and ventured inside. As he looked around he saw that the insides were trashed beyond recognition. The Hale house was always a wreck, but this tipped the scales on what was considered livable. The floors had been clawed at, the furniture had been destroyed and several walls looked like a wrecking ball had smashed through them leaving chunks of the interior missing.
Stiles took a step back, this was a job for the police. Or Scott.
"What are you doing here?" a voice echoed behind him.
Stiles practically jumped out of his skin.
"Dude! You almost gave me a heart attack!" Stiles turned to find Derek, irises circled in red staring at him.
"What are you doing here Stiles?" he repeated irritation coursing through his voice.
"What happened to your house?" Stiles countered.
Derek grit his teeth for a moment looking around the crumbling shell.
"Stay here." he gestured before climbing up the stairs. He returned a few minutes later, stoic expression intact.
"Let's go." He directed, grabbing Stiles by the arm.