And There It Is
CH10
Note: I am so sorry for taking so long! I just wanted to say thank you all for reading and showing so much love….I never thought my little ramblings would get people so involved with And There It Is! I look forward to going on this journey with you
Stiles was hard at work fighting off several mutants on his laptop as he sat in a comfortable pair of grown up pajamas and thick socks. The air outside was colder lately and he loved nothing better than sitting in bed with a cup of hot tea and playing a video game to get him motivated enough to do something productive on his day off.
"Come on fire! Fire damn it!" He grit out, fingers pounding on the keyboard as his player was surrounded by a mob of mutated creatures and then unceremoniously torn limb from limb when his gun wouldn't reload in time.
"Dammit" he sighed as the sound of a loud knocking came through the door. Stiles placed the laptop on his bed and shuffled to the entrance of his apartment and peered through the peep hole to see two police officers on the other side.
He opened it cautiously wondering what officers would be doing at his apartment. He had grown up around police officers and yet these two individuals looked less than friendly.
"Yes?"
"Genim Stilinksi?" One officer asked.
"That's me." Stiles responded looking between the two.
"May we come in? We wanted to ask you some questions." The first officer continued.
"About? I stopped playing my stereo after 10pm. You can ask Mrs. Watson herself. I am well aware of the notification the building supervisor gave me." Stiles replied assertively.
The two officers stared at him oddly. The second officer pulled out a small notepad "Do you know a Mark Neelson?"
Stiles went still, his mind racing to a multitude of not-so-great conclusions. Did Mark challenge Derek? Did he go back to Beacon Hills? Did Derek tear him from limb to limb like an unfortunate mutant hunter with no ammo? Had Mark discovered that there were werewolves in Beacon Hills? Holy crap batman!
"Yes. What's wrong?" He managed.
"Mr. Neelson's been missing for four weeks. The university where he works gave us your name."
Stiles blinked. "What?" He managed realizing just how long four weeks was.
"Do you know the whereabouts of Mark Neelson, Mr. Stilinksi?" The officer asked slowly, staring at him in an observant manner.
Stiles shook his head "No."
XXXXXXXXX
Stiles sat opposite the officers as they talked.
"How did you and Mr Neelson know each other?" The officer with the notepad inquired.
"Ah. we dated for some time a few years ago." Stiles replied quickly.
"And when was the last time you saw him?"
"Two months ago I believe."
"Any particular reason?"
"Uh nothing really. He just came to see me. " Stiles nodded hoping he wouldn't have to reveal more than that.
"About?" The first office prodded.
"Just. He wanted to get back with me." Stiles replied slowly.
The two officers shared a look.
"And I'm guessing it didn't happen?" The second officer deduced quietly.
"No. I told him that we weren't right for each other. It was a long time ago."
"How did Mr. Neelson take it?" The first officer continued.
"Ah he was upset. Understandably. But it was not like he was going to leave work for a long time like that." Stiles asserted. Mark had loved his job.
"You never had any further contact with him since that meeting?"
"No." Stiles shook his head.
"Any idea where he could be?" The first officer asked. "His manager said that he had asked to take his vacation rather abruptly before he went missing. Did he tell you any of this?"
"Well he does go hiking. Maybe on one of the trails up north? That was his favorite place to go." Stiles spoke.
The second police officer scribbled the information into his notepad.
The first police officer took out a card and handed it to him. "Well if you remember anything please give us a call." The two men stood and made their way to the doorway.
"I will. Thanks." Stiles followed and closed it after they had left.
He gave himself a minute before grabbing his cell phone off the coffee table and dialed Mark's number. Not surprisingly it had already been cut off, the pre recorded track stating "We're sorry, this number has been disconnected" not caring about the reason why it had occurred.
He then dialed his father, who picked up on the fourth ring.
"Hey stranger" the Sherriff's voice came through, his enthusiasm rounded out by a weariness in his voice.
"Hey daddy-o." Stiles greeted him apologetically. "Ah I was wondering if you had heard anything about Mark." He continued quickly.
"Mark who?" His dad responded sounding genuinely confused.
"Mark. My ex Mark."
"Oh right. No I haven't heard anything about him. Why? Should I have?"
"He's been missing for a month dad." Stiles muttered chewing a finger nail absently.
"Ok hold on." The Sherriff responded, and he listened to the clacking of his father's fingers on the computer in his office.
"Yeah. Here he is." the Sherriff announced slowly. "A missing person's report a few weeks ago. No leads. They found his car on the interstate but not him."
Stiles' breathing hitched.
"Which freeway?"
"Heading west. He was close to the border actually."
"Border of where dad?" Stiles managed, though his voice sounded pinched and anxious.
"Oregon. " His dad supplied but not giving any more information. If he knew Stiles, and he did, he would be driving out to find the boy himself and that would not happen on his watch.
Stiles ran a hand over his face. Damn it. A place with trees and secluded spaces galore. A perfect place to bury a body and not find it for years.
"Are you alright son?" His father's weary voice echoed through the line.
"Yeah dad. Just a little shook up. I was apparently the last one to see him."
The Sherriff didn't answer for a moment.
"Well hang in there. I'll do my best to look out for him. The police are on it son, don't worry about it ok?"
Stiles nodded.
Stiles? His dad's concerned voice came through the receiver.
"Oh yeah. Yes thanks dad." Stiles replied, realizing he handed given a response.
He hung up. Who could he ask to help?
XXXXXX
Stiles was looking at the calendar on his computer, mapping out the project deliverables when he saw that there was a three day weekend starting Friday. Like clockwork, his dad had also emailed him a notification with 'Stiles coming home for 3 day weekend on it' politely strong-arming him to come back home.
He sighed. He really did miss his dad. And Scott. And his friends.
He looked up to see the time and realized it was already 7 on a Thursday afternoon. He powered down his computer and walked to the elevator, heading down to the lobby of the empty office building.
As he made his way to the parking lot where his jeep and two other cars stood, he heard the faint sound of music wafting through the neighborhood. He walked past the pair of luxury cars that belonged to the CEO and VP of the company to see a lounge where people his age were mingling and laughing.
As the streetlights turned on around him, he couldn't help but be reminded of how lonely he actually was. The fact that he didn't even have a cat to go home to made that familiar pang ache more than it usually did.
XXXXXXXX
Stiles' mood picked up on his drive home. And sleeping in his bed and having Scott and Allison over for lunch had made it even better. By the time he had visited Syd and Geraldine and then made his way to the grocery store he felt happy and content.
It was almost nine at night when he drove quietly from the grocery store, the back seat of the family's weathered Winnebago filled with bags of goodies, glad that he could restock his dad's pantry full of food that he had bought with money he had actually earned himself.
He whistled along to the radio and ran over the things he had to do to make an organic salad and baked fish that would knock the socks off his dad and still be low enough in calories to prevent any more tension in his heart. He was wondering if he could get his father to show him Mark's case file but decided against it. It was time to live his own life and let the past go.
As he drove towards the cross roads to turn left into his street he saw a familiar car in the distance. As he got closer, he realized it was a black camaro. That black camaro. He parked behind it and went in for a closer look. Peering into the wind screen he saw Derek, fast asleep. Despite the quickening of his pulse, he knocked on the driver's side door. Derek didn't stir.
He knocked again, louder this time and the man stirred, groaning loudly. Derek managed to open the door, clutching his arm the entire time.
What are you doing here? He chided lowly, not even having the courtesy to say hello.
"Uh I was just driving home, what are you doing?" Stiles returned evenly.
Derek grit his teeth as a searing pain racked his body.
"What's wrong with your arm." Stiles pointed.
Derek began to move himself towards the passenger's seat with the effort of a desperate man.
"Get in."
"You want me to drive? You've never let me drive your car. Ever."
"Get in Stiles!" Derek yelled painfully.
XXXXX
Stiles stared at the pool of blood as it quickly turned a foul grey color and oozed out a residue that resembled tar as it hit the concrete floor. If it was a movie instead of real life, he would have applauded the effects team on a great job, but no, this was real life and the pool of blood that Derek had just wretched out was no fantasy.
"Alright now you have to cut it off." Derek said holding a shirt under the area Stiles was supposed to cut, separating the man's arm from his body.
"Derek." Stiles reasoned.
"Stiles you need to cut it off." Derek repeated showing how the black veins lead directly up his arm and towards his chest where they were inching towards his heart.
"No."
"Stiles" Derek barked angrily.
"No. you need both arms." Stiles affirmed.
"That saw behind you." The alpha continued, ignoring him.
"No. you need both arms. An alpha needs both arms." Stiles held firm stubbornly.
"Stiles!" Derek's voice echoed through the basement.
"You can't hug with one arm." Stiles blurted loudly, blushing in the silence that followed.
Stiles knew a person could still totally hug with one arm but Derek didn't need to lose his over something he could fix. He knew from research alone that werewolves couldn't regenerate limbs.. Besides, Derek's arms were his special place, and even if he wasn't going to be wrapped around in them, the person Derek chose definitely wouldn't want to miss out on that experience.
Derek stared at him.
"Shut up and do it." He groaned, his face paler than snow.
"Where does it hurt?"
"Everywhere idiot. Once this poison reaches my heart I'm dead." Derek grit out lowly.
"Where does it hurt the most jackass?" Stiles responded feeling his patience giving and a coil of irritation rising up in him.
Derek pointed at his wrist.
Stiles lifted the wrist to his face and slowly examined it.
"Got a blade?"
Derek pointed to a drawer. Stiles pulled out a box cutter and knew he would have to make do.
"If this doesn't work, then we cut it off. Why didn't you ask Scott or one of the others to heal you?"
"I already did."
"Oh."
"So I'm guessing you know exactly where it is." Stiles paused, blade in hand. 'Why didn't you get Deaton to help you?"
Derek swallowed.
"We don't communicate with him anymore."
"Why not?"
"Too dangerous. He's just a vet." Derek supplied vaguely.
"And knows about werewolves and all that supernatural stuff."
"He." Derek breathed finally revealing the whole truth. "He was attacked some time back and he left with his family to another state."
Stiles frowned, the piece of news hitting him somewhere deep inside.
He turned to Derek's hand which was now a lot paler than the rest of his body towards him.
"Here goes nothing" he muttered before pushing the blade into Derek's wrist and cutting a thin line across it. The two were so close across the table from each other and he struggled to push the memories away. Stiles used his free hand to hold down Derek's arm and his thumb to slowly move in comforting circles against the alpha's skin. He had seen how Scott had calmed animals when he had worked at the vet's office years ago and physical contact could calm even the most savage of beasts.
"Focus on what you're doin"g Derek seethed as the blade slit in and blood the color of black ink poured out.
"Shut up." Stiles whispered, gently rubbing soft circles into the wolf man's forearm with his thumb as the wound healed almost instantly.
As Stiles cut into the tissues, looking for whatever was embedded in the wolfs wrist, he felt Derek watching him, grunting in pain every so often as the poison inched towards his heart.
Stiles cut again through the tissue but it kept healing. That damn werewolf ability was not helping right about now.
"I can't cut slowly like this. It's gotta be a quick stab to open up the flesh. Do you know where it is exactly?"
Derek pointed to the area in his arm that hurt the most. "It should be there."
"Should be there huh" Stiles deadpanned.
"Did you see what it was before it went into your arm?" He asked realizing that the saw may in fact be the only way to get rid of the poison that was slowly killing the alpha.
Derek thought for a minute, remembering what it was that had gotten him to this point of excruciating pain.
"It was made of metal" he managed.
"Ok." Stiles thought for a minute.
He snapped his fingers in a eureka moment.
"A magnet! Do you have any really strong magnets?" He exclaimed excitedly.
Derek just stared at him. "Stiles just cut my arm off!" He roared in pain.
Stiles pulled out his phone and searched 'House hold objects that have strong magnets.'
"Ah!" He smiled looking up from his phone, his face bathed in the ultra white glow of the phone's light.
"Come on" he urged Derek upwards.
"Where are you going?"
"Just hurry!"
Derek charged up the stairs and followed Stiles to the destroyed kitchen. He watched as the younger man pulled open the cracked door of the refrigerator.
Stiles turned to him. "Can you crack through this door? Right here at the bottom" he pointed.
Before he could explain Derek had thrown a fist into the fridge door and pulled out revealing a huge gap in it.
"Great" Stiles nodded. He carefully searched through the rubble and pulled out a large bar.
"And voilà! a really strong magnet." Stiles smirked
XXXXX
Back at the table Stiles held the magnet over the area.
"Now tell me where you feel the most pull ok?" He instructed and Derek nodded, gritting his teeth as Stiles hovered the magnet over is skin.
"There." Derek placed a finger over the area where his flesh seemed to pulse up most towards the magnet.
"You sure?"
"Yes. "
"How deep do you feel it."
"It's in the middle. Near the bone" Derek managed, feeling his legs buckle from the pain.
"Alright" Stiles nodded placing the magnet on the counter. He pulled out the blade and breathed.
"Here we go again."
He jabbed the blade into Derek's arm and then pulled down creating a large cut.
He grabbed the magnet and pushed it into the wound. Derek felt something, a solid object that was neither flesh or bone move towards the magnet. Bingo.
"You got it" Derek breathed.
Stiles pulled the magnet out carefully and stared at what he had just extracted.
Derek suddenly bit down hard on Stiles's shoulder with a grunt as his body began to heal itself, the bad blood burning out of the wound and onto the table in an ooze of thick black liquid. He screamed into the pale flesh tasting the sweat and essence of the one person he wanted to be near. Finally letting go, sure he left marks from his human teeth on the shoulder of the Sheriff's only son.
"Feeling better" Stiles motioned so he could stand and Derek moved to an upright position looking apologetic and slightly embarrassed with himself.
Stiles slowly pulled out what looked like a metallic cylinder the size of a grain of rice from the surface of the magnet. He held it up to the light, it was tiny.
Derek felt his arm finally heal over; leaving a large scabbed over cut on the inside of his wrist.
"The pain's disappearing." Derek evaluated himself slowly.
"Good." Stiles nodded feeling the tinges of nostalgia ebbing away.
"Yeah." Derek nodded rotating his wrist.
Stiles held up the tiny metallic cylinder which under closer inspection seemed to be covered in something clear and squishy.
"It must have been releasing low concentrations of wolfs bane into your system" Stiles muttered, watching as Derek began to flex his arm, feeling it get back to normal. "Wolfs bane and some other substance. It's serving as a masking agent. It's actually really well designed." Stiles reflected quietly watching as a small amount of clear liquid dripped down his fingers.
Derek growled lowly in his chest as the toxic smell of wolfs bane permeated the air.
"Put that away" he growled.
"Do you have something I can put it in?" Stiles turned to see Derek covering his nose with his hand.
"Let's go." Derek nodded towards the stairs and Stiles followed wondering if he was ever going to get thanked for his help.
Once upstairs in the darkened house Derek walked over and slumped down onto the couch and Stiles took that as a sign to use his trusty cell phone as his source of light. He looked through the dingy kitchen until he found a plastic zip lock bag. He dropped the pellet inside and sealed it, deciding to analyze it later or call someone in the sheriff's office to run some tests. He headed back to the living room.
"Derek" he asked into the dark, making out the alpha's figure as his eyes had finally adjusted.
He walked over to find him breathing heavily and otherwise unresponsive. Just like he had found him earlier that day.
Stiles flashed the light of his phone over Derek's face and saw that it was paler than it normally was. He quickly returned to the kitchen and filled a cup full of water and hurried back.
"Derek" he asked again and thankfully the alpha stirred.
"Yeah." He spoke weakly.
"Here drink this" he gestured holding out the cup of water.
"I feel like I was hit by a bus" Derek groaned quietly making Stiles think for a moment.
"That capsule thing must have released a lot of wolfs bane when I was pulling it out of your arm" he concluded watching as the color slowly returned to Derek's face.
"You think?" The alpha muttered weakly though his face registered gratitude.
"Hey. You should be nice to the person who just saved your ass." Stiles grinned running a hand through the man's dark hair.
"Stiles please." Derek all but whined.
"What?"
"I don't want your smell to mix with mine. It's too dangerous." Derek supplied not wanting to reveal the real reason, though he was sure it was evident enough considering how he had leaned in to the cool touch of Stiles' hand.
"Ok" Stiles nodded in understanding wondering when all this would be over. A part of him already realized that it would never be over and yet he buried it deep inside himself just so the glimmer of hope could be kept alive. He was dumb like that.
Derek handed him back the glass and Stiles took the imitative to fill it up again and bring it to the alpha.
"Keep drinking" he reasoned, "it'll thin the level of wolfs bane in your blood."
Derek drank the second glass in two gulps
"You need to leave. Now. Go be with your father." He announced firmly.
"Yeah. I need to get back to dad." Stiles nodded.
Derek stood slowly. "I need to get my jacket from the basement." Unofficially asking Stiles to accompany him, Stiles acquiesced with a nod.
Once downstairs Derek pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket and texted the pack. Where the hell were they?
"Ok let's go" Derek nodded to the doorway and they bypassed the splotches of inky liquid as Stiles began to ascend the stairs with Derek close behind.
"Stop staring at my butt dude." Stiles smirked ahead, totally catching the alpha off guard, faltering in his steps behind him.
"What. I wasn't!" Derek retorted though Stiles was pretty sure the tips of Derek's ears were blushing red.
Derek led him to the front door.
"Dude, are you ever going to clean this place up? It looks like a wrecking crew went through it." Stiles chided.
"Stop calling me dude." Derek responded, but stopped for a moment thinking. He held up a hand.
"Hold on."
Derek launched himself up the stairs and Stiles waited, leaning against a doorway looking around the interior of the creepy looking Hale house. He would hate to spend a night alone in the place considering it looked like ghosts readily inhabited it as opposed to living beings. On the other hand, it may be why Derek liked bringing him here, knowing that Stiles was always stuck to his side whenever they were inside.
Derek bounded down stairs holding a bundle of clothing.
"Here" held them out to him. "Put these on."
Stiles took the clothes, a bewildered look on his face, as he brought them closer he crinkled his nose.
"Dude, these reek! What are these clothes you've been working out in?" He recoiled. Obviously Derek had dug into the bottom of his dirty clothes hamper.
"It will mask your scent. Come on." Derek urged.
Stiles looked at the pair of sweat pants and one of the alpha's signature black t-shirts.
"Stiles" Derek repeated in irritation.
"Fine" he muttered, slipping the t-shirt over his existing clothing..
"No. Don't put them over your clothes" Derek growled in annoyance.
"Why?"
"It'll mix our scents together" Derek finished visibly swallowing eyes darting over his shirt on Stiles' body.
"Oh right."
Stiles took off his hoodie and t-shirt and pulled Derek's Black t-shirt on. He reached for his belt and stopped to look at the alpha who was incidentally watching him like a hawk.
"Uh dude. Privacy."
Derek rolled his eyes. "It's not like I haven't seen everything before." He chided
"Shut up" Stiles sniped trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Having nothing smarter to say, he tried to ignore the flush of heat that ran through his system. They had been so close to passing that base at one point.
Stiles moved behind a pillar and took off his jeans. He reached for the sweats but stopped.
"Underwear too?" He inquired.
There as a moment of silence.
"Yes."
"Ok so I guess I'll be going commando in your sweats."
He heard Derek sigh exasperatedly.
Stiles heard a buckle coming undone and a moment later Derek's hand was holding out a pair of black boxer briefs.
"Here now hurry."
Stiles took the still warm boxer briefs and pulled them on, trying not to think of where they had just been and trying hard not to let his mind conjure up really naughty innuendos. He could be quick. They could be quick.
"Stiles. Stop that." Derek's voice sounded clipped in his urgency.
Busted.
He listened to the sound of Derek zipping up his pants and putting his belt on. Stiles finally tossed his boxers on top of his other clothing and left them on the floor of the patchy floor.
He felt so weird not wearing any of his own clothes but realized it was for his and the packs safety. He put his wallet and keys into the pocket of the sweat pants and stepped back out into the entryway.
"How do I look?" Stiles joked casually.
He looked over at Derek who seemed to be stuck intently on Stiles' body.
"Ok now you're definitely staring at my ass."
A knock on the door made both of them turn, snapping them out of their shared moment. Derek opened the door revealing Jackson standing at the stoop twirling the keys to his Porsche in his index finger.
"Well, good to see you're still in one piece" Jackson stated positively, ignoring Stiles all together.
"So was the hospital able to help you?" He continued casually.
"Where were you earlier?" Derek barked showing teeth.
"I was out on patrol" Jackson repeated. "Doing exactly what you had told me to do."
"I told you to be on call at all times."
Jackson bit back a response, he was busted.
"Everything looks normal alright. No signs of intruders. And the doctors were able to help you with your issue."
Derek walked up the stairs.
"Take him home. Now. When you come back you and I will have a talk."
Jackson pulled Stiles by his shirt and led him to his car, leaving the creepy Hale house once more.
XXXXXXX
"Really Stiles?" Jackson chided as he drive quickly through the night
"What?"
Jackson shook his head.
"He's under a lot of pressure right now."
"I know" Stiles replied coolly, adding a shrug for emphasis.
"So why are you trying to make out with him?" Jackson replied
"I wasn't making out with him or trying to make out with him." Stiles retorted indignantly.
Jackson suddenly crinkled his nose and rolled down the front windows. "It's called deodorant Stilinski. You should try it some time."
"Shut up. And you know very well that's not my smell"
Jackson sighed. "I'm not trying to be an asshole. It's just that I'm pack."
"So ?" Stiles scoffed tugging at the waistband of Derek's boxer shorts wondering if sitting on his butt all day in front of a computer had made him gain more weight than he had initially thought.
"I can feel when someone in the pack is pining."
"He's not pining"Stiles scathed indignantly, the sadness and hurt boiling up. The alpha wouldn't even touch him let alone say thank you for saving his life once again.
Jackson shook his head. "Just don't have it harder than it has to be" he finished quietly.
"Don't worry; I'll be gone in a day. Out of sight out of mind right?" Stiles supplied flatly.
Jackson pulled into the street and stopped at the old Winnebago.
Jackson called a "have a safe flight" after him but Stiles had already sat down in the driver's seat of the old car and started the engine.
XXXXXX
Stiles stomped through the front door and found his dad heating up a large pot on the stove.
"Hey kiddo."
"Hey dad."
"I got my famous chili in fifteen minutes. Want to join me?"
"You know it" Stiles smiled grabbing two large bowls out of the cabinets and pushing the previous conversation to the back of his mind. He put the plates on the dining room table after grabbing forks and a loaf of bread. The Sherriff approached with the huge pot of chili and doled it out in generous portions.
Stiles pulled out his phone and typed 'dating sites' into the search engine and tapped the first hit he saw. He set about making a profile for himself and getting back out there. There was no time like the present and the past would stay where it was. In the past.
"So how was your day?" The Sherriff asked cheerfully.
"Good."
"Did you see Scott?"
"Yep. Scott and Allison came over for lunch."
The Sherriff nodded.
"And Derek?"
"Yeah. For a bit. Just said hi."
The Sherriff opened his mouth to speak but decided against it.
"Dad?" Stiles asked slowly.
"Yeah."
"Can I go see her after we're done?"
"Of course. May I suggest a change of clothes?"
"Yeah sorry. I didn't do laundry before I left. This is all I had on me" Stiles grimaced.
His dad nodded. "So how's work?"
"Oh" Stiles' eyes flashed in glee. The Sherriff smiled as his son began a long and elaborate recollection of his job duties and the amazing company he worked for.
XXXXXXX
Lance was in the middle of typing up a long report to be sent back to headquarters when Hendrick entered, his skin slowly healing itself of the fresh wounds on his arms and face.
"Where's Stilinksi?" Lance asked not taking his eyes off the screen.
"It's Saturday."
"I asked where he was, not the day of the week."
Hendrick sighed absently running a finger over the freshly healed scars on his face and arm.
"He went back home for the weekend. I saw the plane ticket on his computer registry last night. Also the police came by his house a few days ago."
"I know. I saw them on the last camera "Lance pointed to the huge monitor where he played back a black and white surveillance video of the two police officers talking to Stiles in his pajamas.
"You think they know?"
"No. they have no idea" Lance mused returning back to his document.
"We should take precautions. He's smarter than he looks."
"Of course. And you should as well Hendrick. I wouldn't think you would be having as much trouble as you are with your new friend."
Hendrick hissed in indignation. "Anger is an amazing motivator." A feeling of smug self righteousness rising in his chest at how his boss stiffened at his words.
"Once it's complete we can set our plan in motion. I have several large and challenging projects coming up for the company and Stiles will take on an integral part of it. He's going to be extremely busy." Lance supplied with a feral grin.
Hendrick laughed loudly, a guttural and untamed shriek that sounded entirely unpleasant to the ear. "A busy little bee."
TO BE CONTINUED…..
Notes: Things are coming to a head! Thank you for reading! Reviews are always welcome