Hey there, lovelies.
Disclaimer: You get it.
Last time:
Scott would be breaking up with Allison tomorrow.
And she wouldn't know why.
I cringed as I rolled out of bed the next morning, wondering if I should somehow let Lydia know that Allison would need her support soon. It'd be difficult to arrange but- Oh no. Lydia wasn't quite up to supporting anyone right then, was she?
A feeling of horror crept over me as I realized what I'd gotten myself into. There was no way I could let Allison go through her first break up in a strange new place on her own but, it was a strange new place, and Allison didn't exactly have a support network in place just yet for these sort of things. She wouldn't tell anyone, so no one would know, so she would suffer in silence, and only I would know what was going on and…
Why did I think myself into these situations? It would have been so much easier if I just never contemplated the consequences of my actions.
Around noon, Scott showed up at my house with a half-hearted grin, "I'm a free man."
"Great," I grumbled, throwing on my coat as I pushed past him and out the door.
"Whoa, what?" He grabbed my arm and turned me to face him with an incredulous half smile still clinging to his irritation, "I broke up with her for you, you know. Where the hell are you going?"
I shook off his arm, "Yeah, thanks. We'll be happy together or something. I just realized that we metaphorically smashed Allison into the ground without anyone there to help her back up."
Scott looked ready to pull out his hair in frustration and I felt a little of my own annoyance wane. He was just trying to work with my morals, and I was probably channeling some of my self-loathing onto him. I sighed and pulled him down for a deep kiss that Scott, after getting over his surprise, enthusiastically returned. After that, I almost didn't want to leave, but I steadied myself and drew back, "I'm going to go see if Allison's okay. You should go talk to Hale about all the werewolf-y stuff going on. Then we can come back to the house and hang out."
"And make out," Scott added cheerfully.
"Looking forward to it," I grinned toothily before we walked to our separate cars and drove away.
What did I ever do to deserve the suspicion of Big Daddy Hunter?
Oh yeah; this:
I hesitated, my fingertips brushing the doorbell and turned away from the foreboding, wooden door in frustration for the third time. The formidable stonework glared down at me and I turned away, growling to myself in a pathetic imitation of Scott. "Come on, Stiles; if you don't do this, it'll haunt you forever."
"…Or it might save you from making a big mistake," A deeper male voice remarked nonchalantly from behind me, with only a hint of threat in the tone, and I twirled around. A tall, middle-aged man with sandy brown hair and the same eyes as Allison leaned too-casually-to-be-casually in the suddenly open doorway, "I'm betting you're here for Allison."
"Uh, yeah; how did you know?" Because, seriously, I could just be selling something or other door to door… Or I could be a teenage boy on the doorstep to a teenage girl's home. Oh, joy. "Is she home?" Really, there's no way to clear up a misconception unless the other party brings it up first. It just gets confusing.
"Allison!" The older man- presumably Allison's father- called up the stairs without breaking the creepy stare down he had going on with my forehead since I refused to look directly at him. There was a poignant pause as I desperately listened for the pitter patter of little "Allisons" coming down the stairs and Mr. Allison's Father glared passively, with a slight smile scratched across his stony visage like a flaw in the rock.
I heard someone come up behind Scary Man, answering, "Yeah?" I breathed a sigh of relief, only then realizing I'd held my breath and hyperventilating slightly to make up for it. "Stiles- what are you doing here?"
I looked up and the breath I'd caught stuck in my throat. Her eyes were red and puffy, and her nose showed the same coloration. Even as the guilt churned within me, I knew I'd made the right decision coming here. "I was worried." Internally, I bashed myself about the head for the same line I'd given Lydia slipping out. No more emotional outbursts from myself, please.
At first she seemed puzzled, "Why?"
"Well…" I glanced at her father, still standing sentinel like a disapproving gargoyle with his arms crossed in front of him, and physically felt my awkward meter rise.
"Wait- you know?" Allison asked incredulously, "Scott only broke up with me an hour ago! Then again… Maybe I should be surprised he even waited that long to tell you… Everyone will probably know I got dumped by tomorrow…" I could see her begin to sink back into depression and, disregarding her very present father, put a hand on her shoulder.
"Scott won't do that; even if he was that jerk-like, he's too much of a loner to have anyone to tell. I'm sort of… An exception to Scott's general isolationism and for a while there, you were, too," I caught her eyes to make sure she caught this next part, "That's really hard to do. …But, uh, do you want to, like, talk or um… rant or something?" I added more tentatively.
She glanced at her father, then me, both times with an unreadable expression as her hand lingered on the door. Allison's father twitched as if to step forward and then resettled in his previous position with a troubled look on his face. Her stance firmed a little as she came to a decision and stepped outside, "Okay."
We walked to a nearby park and sat in two adjacent swings, while she began to falteringly tell me about how she felt this strange mixture of insult, regret, and anger, but that made her guilty with herself since Scott had apparently explained why he was breaking up with her (which reasons she did not deign to inform me of, mumbling that she'd like something to stay private if Scott hadn't already told me), which, in turn, made her irritated again that she couldn't even be upset about being dumped without her conscience acting up.
To be honest, a lot of it flew over my head. It seemed though, that all Allison really needed was someone to listen and nod, which I have always been surprisingly good at.
"You deserve more than what Scott can give you," I told her gently, planning to say more but unsure what else to say when Allison made a quiet interjection.
"You already know why Scott broke up with me, don't you?"
I paused. Scott hadn't told me the reason he'd found, "No. He didn't tell me the details of what happened."
She gave me an exasperated look, "Not whatever he told me, I'm sure that's part of it, but you know what really made him break up with me."
Yes. "No."
"Did you just lie to me?" Allison stood up disbelievingly, "You couldn't have just told me it wasn't your secret to tell? Or some shit like that? What, was it really something I did, after all?"
But- it was my secret, too. So that would be a lie as well. "Wait, Allison, listen-" I stood as well, "It's just that- it has to do with something very private. I mean, it's- You are the victim of something here, not the cause. If I'd known this was coming I would've- I would've kidnapped one of you on your first date and forged a note telling the other to forget about the dance. Something- happened, and it just wouldn't be fair to you if Scott stayed." The words came from someone else. It didn't matter that they were leaving my lips, I didn't feel connected to the moment and the words weren't mine, but Allison listened anyway. Probably closer than if I'd had my mind and tongue back under control and stumbled through a more conscious explanation of events. She appeared to be on the verge of revelation and, hastily, I diverted her attentions, "I just didn't know how to say that until right now."
She glared at me briefly, but it lacked sting and her eyes softened, "I guess it sounds a little difficult to explain."
We parted on mostly amicable terms with the promise that she could call me at any time if she wanted to talk more, and also that she would return the cell phone I "accidentally" picked up when leaving Lydia's house.
"I do actually like you as yourself and not just an extension of Scott," She jibed playfully when I had amended that she didn't have to call me if she didn't want to, and to not feel pressured and… I had babbled a bit.
"I like you as yourself, too," I smiled, getting into my car to drive home. Little did I know I would be facing nearly TWENTY MINUTES of perpetual boredom in the longest traffic jam our little town had ever seen. By the time I got to my house, I was antsy, and utterly distracted from Allison and Scott's issues; however, they were in no way distracted from me.
Especially Scott.
I was greeted with the equivalent of a vertical tackle, my back smashing into the closet door, when Scott (who had used the spare key in the mailbox to get in) noticed I was back.
"Derek only warned me about the hunters getting more suspicious and told me to stick close to you for a while," Scott informed me in irritated response to my query as to how he got back before me. "He's having a lot of fun with his whole, 'I will be annoyingly cryptic' shtick he's got going this week."
"Oh. Can we talk about this on the couch?" I was not enjoying having the closet handle digging into my side. There were just some things that could not be adapted to, and the feeling of that door handle slowly wearing a bruise in my skin was one of them.
Scott's whole demeanor changed and he smirked coyly, "Or we could not talk."
"Your mastery of pick up lines astounds me."
"Your belief that the pick up line matters astounds me." Scott pulled me, walking backwards as he spoke, towards the couch and yanked me down on top of him, grinning when we both hit the cushion with an 'omph.' My hands found the couch on either side of Scott's head and he ran his own hands up my thighs on either side of his stomach without even a pause to let me get balanced. He showed me a toothy smile and his eyes ran up and down my body, "I just love the way you look on top of me."
I gave a considering cock of the head, eyebrows raising pensively, "That's a much better pick up line."
Scott bucked once beneath me, bringing what blood didn't head south up to my cheeks, and licked (licked!) up the side of my neck, his mouth stopping by my ear, "No more thinking."
Needless to say, we did not get a lot of talking done on that couch and I winced each time my father innocently sat on it afterwards.
For a few days, we just… Uh, explored the newest facet of our relationship. Allison seemed to be getting over things, Lydia had returned to school, Jackson was distracted by his girlfriend's return and his own recovery, and Hale had his hands full with teaching Scott werewolf-y basics. However, one day Hale decided to commit suicide and I managed to save him just in time.
Seriously! He jumped in front of my car and I almost ran him over!
Well, actually he stumbled in front of my car with his hand out to try and warn me to stop, but my reflexes aren't amazing and I was a hair's breadth away from Pancake du Hale when the brakes registered my meager strength.
"What the hell are you doing?" I shouted, expelling my shock and fear as I slammed the door open and jumped out of the car, "Do you want to die? Is this some ritual wolf-self-sacrifice thingymajig to save the moon god from an unholy end?"
"He doesn't look so good, Stiles," Scott hovered nervously, having already gravitated to Hale's side from elsewhere in the parking lot, "Derek, what's wrong?"
"They shot me… With something…" Hale gasped, gripping his forearm.
"Who?" I asked urgently, pulling him up with Scott's assistance and helping him into the passenger's seat.
Hale, normally in control of himself, snarled and his eyes flashed a murderous blue as he growled through bared teeth, "The Hunters."
I could feel myself pale as I got into the driver's seat and numbly followed orders. Hale was telling Scott that he, for some reason or another, needed a replica of the bullet he was shot with and that Scott had to break into Allison's house.
Who he just broke up with. Who might know about werewolves. Who might even have been the one who shot Hale.
"Wait! Scott shouldn't be anywhere near her house right now!" I interjected, snapping out of my haze.
"Normally, yes; but, he's with her… And… This…" Hale tried patiently (for him) to explain.
"I broke up with her," Scott informed him hesitantly, "About half a week ago." Hale groaned in frustration and threw his head back against the chair, but I wasn't really worried about any cranial injuries since he didn't seem strong enough to even follow through smoothly with the motion. On the other hand, Scott appeared more than a little panicked that Hale no longer seemed in control of the situation.
Well, Stiles, old boy; time to step up. Hale needed a bullet from Allison's house, we needed a viable excuse to get in, and out of the three of us, I was the only one on speaking terms with Allison.
"What if I went in, said someone shot my cat with a poisoned bullet, and asked if they had been practicing around where ever it was they shot you?" I suggested, glancing at the pasty and sweating natural werewolf in my passenger's seat and cutting through the hyperventilation I could hear starting up from Scott's general direction.
"No… Too risky…" A trembling hand gripped my shoulder as Hale pulled himself up into a sitting position and took in our surroundings with sharp eyes clear of the pain screaming from his every motion. "Where…?"
"Oh, we're going towards your house-"
"NO!"
The bellow took me by surprise and I veered sharply to the right side of the road, pulling into the shoulder just in time. Turning to look at the man, I asked cuttingly, "What do you mean, 'no?' Where else am I supposed to take you?"
"Drop Scott and me… At the vet's…"
I locked eyes with Scott for a moment, and although he didn't seem to find the request as humorous as I did, he spared me a brief, strained smile of acknowledgement for the irony in bringing a werewolf to the veterinarian.
The second we arrived, Hale was rolling out the door, trying desperately to get away from the veterinarian/werewolf puns I was sure he could somehow sense formulating in my head. Every punch line I thought of, he flinched. It couldn't be a coincidence.
I was probably taking things a little too light-heartedly, but come on, cut me a little slack. Scary as it was that Hale was in danger, it was such a relief to know that Scott would be staying out of the Argents' reach for the time being that it rather overwhelmed most of my concern for a random stranger. Scott obviously cared for him, though, so I would go out of my way to help him. Especially since he was probably one of the only people that could help Scott with his furry issues.
That was a large factor, too.
A very large factor.
After we settled Hale in the back room, Scott trailed after me into the waiting room and shifted his weight by the inside door separating us from Hale. I wasn't sure why he seemed so indecisive until I remembered that a) the two werewolves were sending me (weakling human) into a potentially dangerous situation for the sake of the elder werewolf, b) the elder werewolf had repeatedly threatened my life, and c) Scott cared a shit load about both of us. Also, from my perspective on things, the Argents had many, many guns. Everywhere. And I had no doubt they knew how to use them.
The reality of the situation crashed down on my head as the strings of levity I'd used to suspend it frayed and snapped at once. Seriously, what would a family of werewolf hunters do to someone if they were found helping their least favorite werewolves? What if they found me nosing around? Halfway across the room, I turned around and began, almost questioningly, "Scott-" I never got to finish the statement, but that may have been for the better since I didn't know what to say. Scott had almost flown across the room and I found myself returning a near painful embrace as tightly as my human arms could allow.
"He's going to die, or you're going to get caught by the Hunters," Scott murmured breathlessly, "I don't know what to do."
"I'm not going to get caught," I pushed back to look him in the eye, "So just stay here and keep Hale breathing. Try to get out of him what we need to do with the bullet once we have it." It was always easier to feel confident when I had to pretend to be for Scott. He was nodding now, breathing easier, and he leaned in as if to kiss me… On the forehead. Weird. The moment I saw where his trajectory was headed, I popped up on my toes to intercept with my lips.
"There," I told him smugly, "Much less like a dead donkey this time."
He smiled feebly and pushed me towards the door, "Stop kissing dead donkeys."
"Ew." The door shut with a tinkling of bells.
And Allison's window apparently opened the same way.
"Bells?" I mouthed to myself incredulously, "Who puts bells over their window?"
"Paranoid fathers," A voice came from the door, "Who don't believe their teenage daughters have a right to have fun." Her hair was a wavy blonde and as she stepped into the room with a smirk on her face, she tilted her head to the side and I could see a strong resemblance to Allison in her face, "Although, I thought she told me she broke up with her boyfriend."
"She… did! I'm just her friend, and uh…" I trailed off, and the woman looked over her sunglasses at me condescendingly.
"Her 'friend' who is climbing in through her bedroom window, huh?"
"I just need to talk to her about something important, I-" What could I say that would convince her to leave me alone with Allison? My mind was frantically blank until I seized on the memory of the recent developments with Scott, "I'm gay! I mean, uh, yeah, I'm gay, so there's really no way anything like what you're, you know, implying would happen. I came here to talk... About… Boys?"
She looked at me searchingly for a moment, feeling out the truth, before, "Oh," the steam dropped out of her sails and her shoulders drooped, "Well, that was embarrassing."
"No, I understand," I dismissed hastily, "I am climbing through her second story window, after all."
"Yeah about that-" She started quizzically.
"I don't think her dad likes me," I finally jumped down from the window, "And to tell the truth, he scares me a little bit."
The woman smiled, "Well, in that case, I'll keep this little visit a secret, okay? Do you want me to go tell Allison you're here?"
Not really, but if I refused, that would be more than suspect after saying I was here to talk to her. "Yeah, thanks," I smiled, hoping it would cover the pounding of my heart and the trembling in my hands, "That'd be great."
"In fact, why don't you wait in my room?" She moved towards me, about to usher me out into the hallway and the possibility that her actions would take a sinister turn seeped back into the room; I stepped back reflexively, and her smile faltered, "My brother's less likely to find you there."
So she was Allison's aunt. There wasn't much to argue about her proposal, either, or at least, none that I could think of, so I gave in, "Okay. Uh, thanks."
I wished I wasn't hesitating so much.
The guest room was a lot like Allison's, except that Allison's was still filled with boxes, much as she'd mentioned a few times in idle conversation. That's how I had identified it from the window. One thing she hadn't mentioned was the stupid warning bells. Granted, she likely hadn't thought I'd ever need to know, but still, I wouldn't be sitting awkwardly in her aunt's room if she'd ever brought them up.
As I swung my feet, waiting, they hit something underneath the bed that gave way at first, but soon solidified somewhere in the center of the mass. The thing clinked when I hit it, like a quiet metallic rain and I froze in astonishment. Could I actually be sitting right on top of what I was looking for?
I jumped off the bed and pulled out the object. It was a bag, and it was already mostly open, so, I justified uneasily to myself, in these matters of life and death I wasn't really committing the ultimate invasion of a woman's privacy; I was taking a risk to save a friend's life. Exactly.
So why did I still feel like a pervert? Pushing my way through it as I shifted aside the clothes and boring things, I found a big wooden box. Checking the doorway again and hearing no approaching footsteps, I ran my hand along the edge and found the latch of the box. Row upon row of bullets met my eye, and for a brief moment, I panicked.
"Okay, calm down, Stiles," I breathed to myself, still keeping a wary ear open for Allison or her aunt's return, "Special bullets. They're special." And just like that, the smaller box within the case stood out like a sore thumb. I grabbed the little container and popped the lid. Just within it was the inscription. "Aconite," I grinned, sliding out one bullet into my palm, "Wolfsbane, in other words, my dear Watson."
My triumph was not to last. Footsteps sounded in the hallway and, frantically, I closed each box as quietly as I could, zipping the bag a third of the way shut and sliding it under the bed before plopping myself down on top of the bed and crossing my legs innocently.
"Stiles?" Allison edged into the room, her voice hushed, but amused, "You're my 'funny gay friend?'"
"I'm whatever you want me to be right now," I replied in the same hushed tone, with a tinge of dismay, "Just keep your family away from me."
She laughed softly and sat on the bed next to me. I couldn't help but smile in return. She really was doing a lot better than she had been the first day or so. Flipping surfer waves of hair out of her face, Allison bumped shoulders with me, "I've never had a boy crawl through my bedroom window just to speak with me before."
"Well, there's a first time for everything," I grinned nonchalantly, ignoring the hidden request in her phrasing.
After a moment of silent gestures for elaboration, Allison gave up on subtlety and prompted, "…What did you want to talk with me about?"
"So, there's this boy on the lacrosse team, and his name is Brent, and-"
"He's got the dreamiest blue eyes, and hair like baby down, and wow, his muscles!" She swooned sarcastically, trying to adopt my style of speaking, but making it sound suspiciously drag-queen-esque, "Allison, honey, I think I'm in love."
"Actually he has green eyes and his hair is gross. I mean, normal. I think…" Shaking myself out of the tangent, I turned more towards her, "The point of this is, I think he really likes you, if you know what I mean. I was wondering if you wanted me to sort of casually let him know you're… Available?"
She actually grimaced at me. Grimaced. "I don't need you to set me up with anyone, Stiles. Honestly, sometimes it seems like you feel personally responsible for Scott breaking up with me."
"Of course not; he can make his own decisions," I acquiesced uncertainly. Although, I did have a pretty large role in the break up, if I do say so myself.
"It's not like you did anything that would make him break up with me," Allison continued, somehow sensing my guilt and trying to reassure me. Little did she know each word just sunk little shards of guilt deeper into my heart, "Right?"
The silence must have stretched on a little too long, because suddenly Allison's gaze caught my own piercingly, and I realized I wasn't going to get out of this with a lie or a half-truth. "Allison, there's something else that I need to tell you about what happened with you and Scott."
"Okay, time's up, my pretties," Blondie burst into the room, interrupting my impromptu confession and reminding me of my true priorities. Hale could be dying at that very second and I was sitting around having a heart to heart?
Also, that had been dangerously close to destroying Allison's trust in me forever. Which, obviously, was just a small portion of my reason for running out, right? I mean, a man's life was at stake, here!
I shot up, "Right. I have to go." Dashing around the older woman and her niece's startled cry of dismay, I padded quickly to Allison's room, jumping onto the roof and then controlling my fall to the ground with a quick roll to neutralize the momentum before sprinting down the block to where I parked my car.
In what felt like no time, I was back at the vet and as far as possible, given the circumstances, from Allison Argent. When I walked in, I was hastily and ferociously kissed (by Scott, of course, what were you thinking?), the bullet snatched from my hand and tossed into Hale's, and then I was pushed down into a chair so I wouldn't be in the way.
Which I, to this day, resent.
When have I ever, and I mean, ever, been in the way other than you know… Half the time I'm off my meds? Wait, stop- the other half is when I've been properly dosed so it's not like I need my drugs to live like normal people.
…Shut up, Stiles.
Scarily, Hale appeared to be centimeters from shoving the bullet into his wound and I lunged forward, Scott stopping me just in time and shoving me back onto the chair.
"Are you crazy? He's going to make it worse!" I gestured at Hale, keeping my eyes on Scott's so he would pay attention to my logic, "He's about to put another bullet into his bullet wound!"
"It'll be fine, Stiles," Scott soothed, petting my hand patronizingly, "You'll see."
"Do you even know what he's doing?" I continued, horrified as Hale bit his lip and smashed his thumb against the infected looking wound, driving the powder he'd released from the second bullet into his bloodstream.
"Well, not at the moment, no," Scott hesitated; I could tell he was about to turn around and check, when a louder gasp from Hale made us both jump to his side. The man had fallen to the floor and his muscles seized with pain as we held him down to keep him from thrashing and hurting himself further.
Scott did most of the holding down.
I'm human.
Duh.
But, strength deficiencies aside, a blue glow seemed to drift away from Hale's arm at the same time his breathing evened and his wound began to close.
"Oh my god, what was that? Was that his spirit? Is he dead? He looks really still, like dead-still, like he's so dead he's gone still. Or something, and what if we're sitting here, and he's dying, and we need to catch his spirit, but we don't know how because you didn't get him to explain it, and-" Scott's hand closed around my upper arm.
"Stiles, stop talking," he demanded tersely, a stroke from his thumb softening the message and the trembling in his hand doing the rest.
With a gasp like a man out of water, Hale sat up between us, pushing Scott's hand away from my arm with the motion and then cringing inward slightly as he cradled his newly healed forearm. As he unfolded, Scott and I moved in tandem to the same side of the room so as to give the older man room to move, and Hale stood. Popping his neck, he groaned, "New hunter's in town. Keep an eye on the Argents."
"Figured that," escaped me before I could impale the words with a harsh cut of common sense, but Hale appeared to be in what was for him a relatively good mood in respect to me.
"Shut it, Stiles," He muttered, the venom entirely lacking in the order while he pushed irritably at his lower back. His hands moved rapidly over his body, checking for possible other sites of contamination, I suppose, and he sighed, expelling the tension on his breath as he finished, "This one is nothing but trouble, not like the others. She's bloodthirsty, she'll come after you whether you've blooded or not."
I didn't want to be the one to bring it up, but luckily Scott took matters out of my hands, "I got shot by the other hunters. With an arrow. Is that not it or is there something worse you call coming after us?"
"She is something worse." The lights flickered in the sterile vet's room and Hale began to pace like the metal restrained him, "I've got to keep you under the radar, so I don't want you visiting me for now."
"What?" Scott's voice was incredulous, "How will that keep me under the radar? I need to learn control!"
Hale gave a grimacing shrug, "For once, your friend knowing about you will come in handy. Contact seems to help ground you the same as any born wolf, and it even seems the boy will almost neutralize you on the upcoming full moon."
My brain caught up with his phrasing, and I mouthed silently, "For once?"
"It's not the best situation, but it'll work while you lay low for a while," Hands clenched and unclenched, "Don't try to argue, Scott; I see that set in your shoulders and I'm telling you now: I won't let my pack be decimated again. You're just going to have to sit tight while I take care of some things."
"But I could help you," Scott, ignoring Hale's instructions, argued, "We could expose your sister's killer together. You said yourself I could help you find the alpha. They should know, right?"
"That's another reason you need to stay out of this for now. I am not going to expose them," Hale denied, his eyes brightening to an electric blue and his teeth lengthening in a way I'd never seen due to his usually tight control, "I'm going to tear them into dripping pieces and set them on fire."