Hello, this is Hopeless Blue Kiss with a new Teen Wolf story I just finished polishing up on my Microsoft Word software on my phone while at work. I'm doing this all for you dear readers and I hope you do me the kind curtesy of liking the story and reviewing. I love hearing what ya'll think. Derek Hale is 11 at start. Peter Hale is 19. Talia Hale is 35. Kate Argent is 21. Stiles Stilinski appears early to mid twenties, but is 245. Besides Kate, since it's canon, no underage mentions of sex. I do not own Teen Wolf but I did enjoy writing this fanfic.
Show Me Your Teeth and I'll Show You My Throat
Fall, 2000
Derek wrenched the door open so violently, that it was clear the door groaned with indignation around its brass hinges. His thick brows furrowed cutely in irritation at the idea that his older sister, Laura, had the audacity to double back to check in on him to make sure he was truly okay being left on his own while her and the other family members went apple picking in the orchard. It had already been less than fifteen minutes.
He was eleven, a freshly made preteen, just on the cusp on manhood. Even sick as he was, nose cherry red, temper soured to perfection at the indignity of catching something as ordinary as a cold; Derek knew how to watch his own person without spontaneously catching on fire or whatever ludicrous thing she thought he'd get up to.
His lips were pursed in a near snarl, hazel eyes flashing beta gold in his irritation before he nearly choked on his snarl at the stranger standing at the door. He immediately panicked, his body shrinking into the thin blanket wrapped around his bony shoulders. The little wolfling tried to quickly backtrack; the door slammed closed before the stranger on his porch could get a word in edgewise.
"Shit," he cursed. The word nasally and high in his sick state. He pressed his back against the door as if he could hold back the realization that he had stupidly revealed himself to a stranger. Of course, he was not capable of watching himself if he couldn't even distinguish his family from any potential enemy. It didn't matter if he was stuffed up and wasn't at his best. This was a rookie mistake that could and would doom their family if the intruder wasn't friendly.
He tried to take deep, calming breaths. He had to think. Derek was in charge of the home while everyone was away. This was their territory. He could certainly take care of one mere human. The preteen tried to psych himself up, his body tensing up further at the gentle knock of the door, announcing that the stranger was still there.
"Shit," he huffed once more. He chided himself for being so easily spooked. This didn't necessarily mean that he would have to square off against a stranger. He just needed to simply explain to them that it was a trick of the light. 'Yeah that,' he thought, steeling himself to open the door slowly again.
"Hello Bunny. Is your Mother home?" the pale stranger asked kindly, smiling under his umbrella.
"…"
The olive-skinned eleven-year-old flushed, losing his train of thought as he squirmed on the spot at the purred-out endearment. He was very conscious of his two front teeth that stuck out enough to resemble the familiar woodland creature. But he couldn't sense any ill will.
Derek just barely stopped himself from smiling bashfully up at the svelte, mole-freckled man that was leaning his hip against the doorframe while blocking the weak rays of sun that dared to peak out of the cloudy sky with his tilted umbrella. He looked as if he was unperturbed by the rude slamming of the door in his face. He knew this man. This was the first time that he physically saw the infamous Mieczslaw or 'Stiles', as he preferred to be called, in the flesh. The young preteen hesitated at the threshold of his front door, staring with wide hazel eyes at the man in front of him. Then ducked his head, as if breaking eye contact would help him gather his thoughts; but it was still hard.
The stranger's presence seemed both overwhelming and welcoming at the same time; the way he crowded the door by leaning close, but never daring to cross the threshold. Oh, he could never cross the threshold and the preteen knew why. His mother warned him about Mieczslaw Stilinkski. Told him to never invite him in no matter how friendly he sounded and appeared. It was because behind those laughing, whiskey colored eyes and that toothy Colgate smile, was a predator possibly even more dangerous than their kind.
'Vampire.'
The boy trembled on the spot from just the mere thought of that word. He knew he ridiculed his sisters and female cousins for their obsession with the Twilight franchise and the televised Vampire Diaries. Especially the way the heartthrob vampires treated Jacob and his werewolf brethren or how the Salvatore Brothers treated werewolves. But Derek couldn't deny a secret thrill in the knowing , as he wondered how long Mieczslaw's eyeteeth really were when activated.
Before he realized it, he was trembling on the spot. Whether of fear or anticipation, it was hard to tell as claws appeared and unconsciously dug into the wood of the door. He nibbled furiously at his lips, fearful of turning his eyes from the tall man, but unsure of looking him right in the eye. He was half convinced if he looked into those whisky-colored eyes for too long, he would abandon all reasoning and step out like a willing lamb to the slaughter.
The young teen was clearly stuck between a rock and a hard place. He shifted nervously from one foot to the other. His thick eyebrows nearly crashing together at the clear amusement Mieczslaw was clearly getting out of Derek's mini life crisis.
"You have no room for fear dear one. I would not harm one of Talia's children. You are Talia's right?" the heavily accented Polish voice asked. Then to Derek's surprise the tall vampire knelt right before his feet, right in front of the door, hand over his heart.
"Of course you are," Mieczslaw said a beat later when the preteen nodded woodenly. "You were this small when I last saw you, Derek yes? So small and so precious. I wanted to protect you always," he confessed even as he cradled an invisible baby.
Derek didn't know what to do with this information or with the man at his feet. Derek might not recognize Mieczslaw's face, but he recognized that voice from the countless times, this man had called their home requesting audience with the head of the Hale Pack, Talia Hale. It was warm and slightly husky, filled with just as much amusement as it did now. He was nothing and everything he could imagine Mieczslaw to be.
So for a handsomely charming and dangerous adult like Mieczslaw to kneel so readily before a young beta preteen, with only two full moon runs under his belt, and declare quite clearly his loyalty to Derek's mother and his willingness to protect someone he hadn't seen since they were a baby, was humbling. That it was little ole Derek, made something in the young teen's stomach flutter and his cheeks and ears flush once more in embarrassed pleasure.
Derek wanted to reach out and make sure this man was real. Reach out and convince the vampire that he wasn't truly afraid of him. Had even started to reach out to him with an eager hand before common sense had him quickly jerked his hand down before fingers could bury into those thick, luscious locks.
This wasn't right. Where were his parents? They couldn't still be out getting groceries, could they? But try as he might, Derek could not hear any telltale signs of any of his family moving beyond his younger siblings and cousins napping in a puppy pile in the living room. His older sister Laura had snuck out an hour earlier with her on again off again boyfriend and the rest of the family were either at the orchard, patrolling the borders, running errands, or at work.
He was well and truly alone. The only authority that could steer a clearly sinking ship.
Derek stood up a little bit taller than he had been, all four feet of him. He didn't know how this vampire had penetrated the borders. Hopefully none of his family had been hurt in the subterfuge, but he refused to be swayed. He had to protect the young ones. Even if his mother had reassured him numerous times that the man before him was a family friend through generations of Hales. Mieczslaw was still a natural predator. A vampire that should never be invited in; not unless it was absolutely life and death. He had heard that statement told to every young one that could fully understand what was right and wrong.
That the kneeling vampire before him, so youthful and sincere, looked to be in his early twenties when he was much, much older. This man was the same vampire that had gifted the first settler Hale this house and the land they stood on now; had built the home brick by brick, plank by plank, escape tunnels and all, before generously signing off the deed to the Hales to raise generations to come, sadly meant nothing. Mieczslaw may be as close as family, knowing generations upon generations of Hale's, but he wasn't Pack.
Pack was everything. Pack came before friendship.
"Hi Stiles," Derek said, trying not to sound too excited or breathy. He licked his chapped lips and tried to look as nonchalant as possibly even as he purposefully closed the door behind him. His heart thundering rapidly in his ear even as this move brought him one step closer to this strange creature, and possible doom. Friend or foe, he would use all he had been taught in combat to fight whether it was teeth, claws, fists. He would hold the vampire off long enough that the grownups would surely hear and come running.
"Such courage Bunny," Mieczslaw stated solemnly with a jovial glint in his whiskey colored eyes even as he remained kneeling in hopes of not spooking the courageous werewolf child. He was amused by the pup, but he didn't think Talia would take it lightly if he had made one of her children piss himself just because he realized kneeling on the porch wasn't a good idea. So, Mieczslaw remained perfectly still, allowing the sick pup to have his fill of circling him and trying to look tough with his flushed cheeks and nose while patiently waiting for some adult who actually knew him to break this ceasefire.
No matter how he wanted to coo and take pictures at the false bravado he managed to stay still and hold his sharp tongue. He let out an audible sigh of relief, body sagging comically as he finally heard the distinct sound of tires over gravel and a car full of werewolves pulling up in exclamation.
"Stiles, is that you?!" cried a beautiful, short, statuesque woman, who barely waited until the car stopped before she hopped out the car to body slam into the kneeling vampire with a hug and shower of kisses.
Derek had never seen his mother so animated and enthusiastic as his mother toppled the vampire over with an undignified yelp from the man as the sprawled our fully on the porch's floor; limbs akimbo.
"Talia, hun, he's not going anywhere. You can ease back a little," Alexander Hale insisted as he gently tried to pry his wife off of the softly chuckling man. But she stubbornly held on, gripping him like a koala bear and started to scent mark him as Stiles indulgently patted her head as if she were an overgrown child.
"I didn't realize I was gone too long Talia and here I promised you I would be back soon," he apologized kissing the Alpha leader's forehead. "How could I leave my Wendy lady behind when I made a solemn pinky promise?" he said fondly even as he slowly eased himself up to a sitting position. He gently returned her hug, letting her do whatever it was she needed to do to feel at peace before she donned back on her heavy mantel as Alpha leader.
"We maintained your cabin and added new heating and plumbing over the years. Even installed a new washer and dryer and given you online dial up capabilities so you have all the creature comforts you could want. It really is nice to see you again. Just let us put our sick kiddo to bed, unload the apples, and check on the kids, before we meet you up at the cabin," Alexander offered, gently coaxing his protesting son, Derek back inside before the others began to finally as if given permission.
"You're too kind," Stiles said standing up effortlessly with an armful of Alpha. The other adults milled pass the vampire. Some pausing to clap his shoulder, one arm hug him or brush his shoulder. Anyway to scent mark him and claim the non-pack member, say 'hello', and get back to the house.
Stiles nodded and leaned into certain werewolves and humans touches, knowing some family members better than others since his decade long absence. He even called some by names, inquiring on other family members, friends, businesses before allowing them to be swallowed up into the big, warm, cozy home that structurally hadn't changed. Although the insides he could see where now modernized and personalized by the newest generation of werewolves.
"She's such a big baby, I don't see how she became Alpha sometimes if she breaks down every time she sees you. It hasn't been that long, grumbled a stoic, Nineteen-years-old teenager with raven hair and piercing blue eyes. His hands were shoved into his local universities' hoodie coat as he stood to the side, pouting at his big sister hogging up their family-friendly vampire.
"Peter Wolf, glad to see you ag—" the Polish accent was thick with emotion in his greeting to his young friend before he was cut off by a peevish Talia.
"It's because I'm older and stronger than you, Peter," huffed Talia briskly. Thirty-five-years-old mother of five finally imperiously indicated she was done being indulged and was ready to be put down. She straightened her blouse and fluffed her hair, remembering she was an adult that should act her age. Then she sunker punched her kid brother in the stomach so hard he was bent over wheezing, with a childish huff and smirk. "Don't think I don't smell how happy you are to see Stiles either. You just have a better poker face than me. Just let me straighten up and let Deaton know Stiles has arrived and I'll come see you at the Cabin," she said to both. She patted Stiles on the chest to reassure he was real before leaving with a final squeeze to Stiles in passing.
"You wolves are so violent and affectionate. I love it! Come on Peter Wolf. Show me all the new amenities you did to my log cabin and regale me of your time since we last physically saw each other," he suggested, embracing his long-time young friend in a one-armed embrace. He smiled fondly when the stubborn wolf refused to peel from his side until they got to his vehicle.
Stiles knew he left a lasting impression each parting and wished he wasn't such a nomad. But vampires were notoriously solo travelers that wandered from place to place so that the human population wouldn't grow suspicious that these nocturnal wanderers never aged. It was a lonely lifestyle, not simply because they more than likely traveled alone or had a small concern. But there was the sad reality that he would outlive everyone he laid eyes on barring a few supernatural oddities like himself. He inwardly sighed recalling how lonely his existence was and cherishing the memories of his friends that he made on the way. His journal and bestiary a tangible reminder of the people and creatures he's met along the way.
"I've added to the bestiary. Do you want to see? I have an entry in their about a Tibetan Wendigo and just recently tracked a particularly vicious colony of pixies in the Amazon that was plaguing a village," Stiles said off-handedly as he hopped into his brand new blue Jeep Cherokee, umbrella in tow. It was a cloudy day and although he had trinkets to help him against the harmful UV rays, he took no chances while sliding into his hooded car.
"You're so ancient. When are you going to get with the times and buy yourself a laptop or a cell phone? Even if international calls are expensive. You could have at least text me, your best friend, and tell me that you were coming over. I have to head back to campus in a few days. But I could have arranged things sooner if you had told me!" Peter ranted peevishly even as he viciously buckled his seat belt and snatched up the dog-eared bestiary. He wondered if Stiles would let him hold it long enough to type up the pages on his school laptop.
"I just bought myself a Nokia cell phone for emergencies. Thank you very much. Your sister already has my cell phone number. Not sure why she hasn't given it to you yet. But when humans start working on smaller, more light weight laptops. Bet your ass I'm grabbing one. Nearly lost my life and my bestiary to a persnickety Welsh dragon lady, whose proposal I turned down. I just don't do scales," Mieczyslaw huffed, full rant mode. His Polish accent getting thicker and thicker by the moment even as he turned and leaned backwards to fish for his phone from his backpack in the backseat, forcing Peter to take the wheel or risk crashing into a tree.
"Fuck Stiles, we could have crashed," growled out Peter. He was leaning sideways. The side of his ribs pressed uncomfortably closer to the heat shift as he clutched onto the Jeep's steering wheel. His best friend was a menace, but Peter hasn't felt so alive in ages. His heart ache knowing he had literally a few days to soak in a decades worth of absence.
"Found it!" Mieczyslaw crowed victoriously pulling out his new phone. He sat right back up, his body accidentally forcing Peter to let go.
"Stiles!" the teen roared out, blue eyes flashing beta gold as the jeep fishtail.
Mieczyslaw snorted and quickly straightened the wheel making a hard left away from the approaching tree. He then slowly pulled up to his cabin as if they didn't have a bear death experience over a phone. He smirked in hopped out, tossing his cell phone to Peter and demanding over his shoulder, "Put your number in Peter Wolf. Then come show me my new digs."
Peter gaped at Stiles, his heart thundering like a hummingbird on Crack. His mouth gapping, unable to make a smart, snarky comment that could normally serrate anyone. He just numbly put his number in Stiles under the name 'Peter Wolf' since he knew already Stiles would have named him that no matter how he might protest. He then shakily got out of his car and stumbled like a new fawn, towards the smirking vampire.
"Oh, you really must be out of it. Because it looks like we have company," purred out Mieczyslaw. His whiskey gold eyes alight with jovial mischief. "Isn't that right Deucalion?"
"Mieczyslaw," Deucalion said in greeting, pouring out of the shadow of the cabin with his teenaged emissary in tow. "You're late."
"Well shit!" Peter said intelligently not sure why another Alpha was on their territory. But knowing his sister would have words. Very many words that might result in blood being spilled.