Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

~!~
Today was the day.

They were going to meet their son today. 

Any minute now. 

Though not quite any minute. Like 10-15 minutes. Thus Dean had stopped unpacking to tidy up and get ready, and now that he was done with that, had nothing to do that he could think of other than just killing time in their new home until the boys showed up with the last of the kid’s stuff. They had managed to move in the furniture that he wanted to bring and his friend's mom, Melissa, was sweet enough to send over in a moving truck a couple weeks ago. Unfortunately they hadn’t gotten to talk to their soon to be son in person on that trip. Fate had just kept fucking them over on timing every trip they’d made into town. They’d even tried planning to meet up, repeatedly, but each time one or both of them would have to cancel, or there’d be some miscommunication. It had started getting to the point Dean thought it was suspicious, but before they could be bothered to worry about it, here they were, the final moving day, after months of getting ready and it was really happening. Their son was on his way. They were finally gonna get to meet him. The closest they’d come until now was pulling up the driveway just as he was pulling out to get somewhere. They had waved and exchanged shouted heys, but had barely even gotten a good look at each other. Dean remembered thinking how different he’d looked to the picture in his file. The picture was of a plucky buzzcutted kid’s school photo with a smartass smirk, his cheeks soft and round and bright. The boy he’d caught a glimpse of in the old blue jeep though seemed stressed, with hair grown out a bit messily, and a slight gauntness and lack of the baby fat from the picture, suggesting the kid probably wasn’t taking great care of himself for probably at least the last month, if not longer, and that had been weeks- almost a month ago now. Cas had voiced Dean’s own hope, that hopefully the kid would look a bit better off this time. They’d both spoken with him, of course, but the kid was pretty understandably guarded. Maybe Cas had had better luck with opening up. It’s not like Dean was ever a pro with that, and Cas had been focusing more on getting to know the kid and people of interest. Dean had accidentally buried himself in busy work and getting shit done, big or small, to offset his nerves. He hadn’t noticed it until Cas had pointed out his fidgeting on their drive over. He was doing his best to actually manage his anxiousness, but he couldn’t lie that his shitty coping mechanisms were being pretty helpful for once. He’d managed to get all the boxes they’d brought on this trip in the house, unpack essentials, gone shopping for groceries and toiletries, and set up a bunch of… accent furniture and appliances he guessed? Including his little music nook while Cas focused on his interview at the school. (For what position they didn't know. The school was pretty vague when they'd called Cas to propose the offer.) 

He was actually proud of all he’d managed to get done today. He was in part setting up his music stuff as a bit of a treat, though also because it needed the most work, and was the first room of the house. But yes, it was mostly so he could reward himself with listening to a bit of music. He was a bit thankful to find the old boombox stereo they’d found and been fucking with for a few weeks. Most of their cassettes and records were packed separately to their players. But they packed most of their CDs with the stereo, honestly not having listened to them for years before they found this thing. And it was a lot easier to set up than his record player or cassette stereo. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to have something to listen to while he dealt with them. He wasn't too surprised to find an unmarked CD in the player. They’d been playing with the thing for weeks, Cas and Sam more than him, and they had a shit load of bootleg CDs from when he and Sammy were young and illegally burning music at the library. Dean curiously hit play, wondering which one it was, only to have his eardrums be assaulted by utter crapwaves at high volume.

" Oh, Mickey! You're so fine, You're so fine, you blow my mind! Hey Mick- " Dean popped the player lid open, shocked and embarrassed by the CD he hadn’t jammed to since he was probably a teenager, even though no one was in the house.

"Cas!" Dean shouted, somewhat scolding, but with a hint of amusement. He felt a presence behind him, but still jumped a bit at Cas' arms wrapping around him from behind.

"Play that one about the promiscuous young woman with the dance named after her." Cas sounded rather cheerful, muttering into his ear. Although Dean was personally a bit worn out, it gave him a bit of pep to hear the sound of a smile on Cas' lips, reminding him what a day for celebration and joy it was, despite his nervous anticipation. Dean turned his head to kiss Cas' cheek with a smirk, choking back a laugh at knowing what Cas was even on about.

"Only if you'll do the dance." Dean bargained jokingly. Cas sighed. Cas didn't see the harm per say in doing the dance. He probably would have done it anyway, he loved that funky little dance ever since Charlie had taught it to him. But whenever Dean spoke like that and he did the action in question, they'd usually end up in bed, and they didn't have near enough time for any such nonsense.

"Dean, the child is gonna be here shortly." He reminded, settling to be the responsible one. Dean removed the CD from the stereo, and went over to the box the stereo had been in to find the case.

"Cas, the kid is 16. Not much of a child anymore. And you should take off the trench coat. How did the interview go?" Dean asked, looking back over his shoulder at Cas. Cas tilted his head, in a 'well technically' argumentative sort of way.

"The paperwork they sent states differently. As does my heart." Cas said in a sassy, 'first of all' sort of way. Dean rolled his eyes with a faint smile, knowing he was in for a minor lecture, despite Cas pausing to let him make a counterpoint.

"I know legally he's a minor, yes. And of course he’s our child. But culturally, calling teenagers children is disrespectful. Next?"

"It's technically an overcoat, not a trench coat." Cas said, half way between serious and jokingly nitpicking at this point.

"Noted. Next?" Dean sighed but laughed anyway finding his angel too cute to not be amused.

"The interview… went well? I think I have secured the position..." Cas said, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn’t much of an interview as much as just a meeting and a tour around the school, so I’m assuming they already decided on hiring me. They said I'll start teaching next Monday. They wanted to give us time to settle in."

"In what…?"

"... Into our home, Dean?" Cas answered confused as to what Dean meant. Dean rolled his eyes.

"No, Cas, I mean what are you going to be teaching in?"

"Oh! I believe I will be teaching a class called Artistic Expression… They gave me a few sheets of paper explaining it. Apparently they tried to send them to our ‘current address’, I told them it must’ve gotten lost in the mail." Cas informed, sounding a bit proud of himself. Dean tilted his head, a bit too distracted to pat Cas on the back for his lying.

"Your vessel had an art education degree…? Didn't he sell ad space?"

"Apparently so. I thought it would be confusing for me to ask them my qualifications." Cas said a bit snarkily, though not seeming annoyed. Dean shrugged.

"Jimmy's a strange man…" He shook his head, finally finding the case and setting the CD on top of the stereo.

"I suppose that would be a reasonable accusation." Cas agreed with a laugh. Dean turned to look over the living room. He ignored how picture perfect it looked, how shocked he was they were doing all this -really actually managing to start having a life- and tried to think of anything he should get ready for when the boys finally showed up. 

“Shit.” Dean muttered to himself as he realized he hadn’t gotten anything to drink while at the store, other than beer and milk. And offering a teenager hot coffee in the summer seemed questionable at best. "Forgot to get something to drink at the store… Unless we're planning on offering the kid a beer, I think I should go mix up a batch of Koolaid or something real quick." Cas opened his mouth to say something, face a bit twisted in confusion, but after a moment gave a soft chuckle as Dean walked into the kitchen.

"That's meant to be a joke, regarding that he's not yet of legal drinking age!" Cas called to Dean. Dean hoped he was thoroughly proud of himself for figuring it out all on his own.

"Nothing gets by you these days, huh, Cas?" Dean laughed. Cas smiled, shaking his head at his husband’s hint of sarcasm.

~!~

Chapter Text

"Thanks for helping me with my stuff, man." Stiles sighed as he retrieved a couple bags of belongings from the back of his jeep, glancing at the house that didn’t look any more lived in this time, despite knowing the couple he would be living with was definitely there, waiting, confirmed by the anticipatory texts they’d shared just minutes ago. 

"No problem. I’m happy to help make this all as easy as possible for you." Scott assured, a bit too carefully and lovingly for Stiles' comfort.

"Dude, I told you I'm okay ." Stiles didn't feel like lying to his best friend today, but he didn't want any more of his pity or concern either. It made him anxious for Scott to still be tiptoeing around him. Not that Scott didn’t have a right, but it certainly wasn’t helping him get better. "Or at least I will be. Of course I'm still sad. But nothing's gonna make things better faster, so… I’m thinking, now that I’m mostly back on my rocker… maybe we deal with this the way we've been preparing to since we realized Death is inevitable: Taking the last of dad's liquor and getting drunk in the preserve tonight? Can call it ‘celebrating the move’ if you want." Scott patted him on the back before clumsily hauling Stiles’ duffle back up one arm and grabbing the last box, giving a disappointed sigh, as if he could say no.

"Although I disapprove, I will of course be there. For moral support.” Scott conceded.

“ Of course. ” Stiles repeated back patronizingly, giving a small smile and laugh as Scott elbowed him.

“And you’re not gonna drink for a while after this, right?” Scott asked cautiously.

“Promise.” Stiles sighed. “I swear, Scott, I’m good. I’m gonna be fine, and if I’m not, on my life, I will not be mad if you clock my ass. Alright? Just knock me straight the fuck out.”

“I don’t wanna knock you out, jackass.” Scott laughed.

“ Good, ” Stiles spun around, pointing at him. “‘Cause you’re not gonna get to, because I’m gonna be fine.”

“Right.” Scott nodded, obviously skeptical. “So… Ready to meet your... new... guardians ?" Scott asked, to change the subject to what they were here for, again tip toeing on every word. Stiles sighed, wondering if he’d ever get around to talking to him about that. Not if we don’t stop being a coward about it. Right…

"Ready as I'll ever be, Scotty. I'm just hoping they aren't total jerks in person, or something."

“I’m sure they’ll be fine. They’ve been totally chill so far, right?”

“Yeah, but…” Stiles sighed. He didn’t like not being able to eloquently explain his anxiety when he knew he had fair reason to be anxious. “Sometimes people are different over the phone, you know?”

“... No? Not really.” Scott said with a little shrug, like Stiles was worried he would. How exactly was he supposed to argue with that, with Scott not knowing something? He couldn’t lie, it did help his nerves, but not by that much. They went up to the door and Stiles shifted the weight of his bags a bit to knock lightly. He couldn’t get his keys right now, and besides he really didn’t want to suddenly burst in unannounced. Almost immediately a man with curly brown hair and stubble, wearing a blue suit and brown trench coat, answered and looked them both up and down before speaking.

"Hello!" Voice deep and stiff but seemingly glad, excited even, maybe. Way different than the voices he’d heard from either Cas or Dean, instantly making his nerves sky rocket. But the man’s expression seemed vaguely nervous too, maybe it was just that? Stiles paused, confused when the man didn't let them in.

"Hey, I'm Stiles- uh, Stiles Stilinski. Your... kid.. ish? Is this the right place." He croaked, even though he knew it was, worried perhaps this was a mover or lawyer or something and he’d end up being embarrassed for assuming it was one of the guys.

"Yes, I assumed you were! I’ve been meaning to ask, actually, the paperwork says your name is-?" The man continued in a downright alarming voice Stiles definitely didn’t recognize at all, deep, gravelly, and monotone, not like Cas’ calm lighter lilted voice, or Dean’s confident smooth drawl. It didn’t even sound healthy.

"Whoa! Is your voice strained, or is it always like that? Man, I'd definitely get that checked out if I were you." Stiles said a bit out of shock, a bit out of wanting to change the subject so he didn't have to explain how to pronounce his name for the next hour.

"Oh, no. It just sort of gets like this when I'm-" Before the man could respond, another man peaked out from a room in the back of the house, visible from the entrance.

"Cas, is that the kid?? Hurry up and let him in!" Dean’s familiar voice called. Though it sounded different off the phone, it was definitely unmistakably Dean’s voice. Stiles almost sighed in relief hearing Dean’s voice also confirming this was somehow Cas. Dean went back to whatever he was doing and the guy in the overcoat moved aside to let the two of them in. Stiles could hardly believe it was Cas (or “James for legal purposes” according to Morrell), the quirky emoji spamming softie he’d been texting hourly for a week or two now. He supposed maybe he was just anxious and it was making him all stiff. And grumbly, apparently. Seriously, he needed to get that looked at… Stiles would annoy him about it later, once they were better acquainted.

"Right, of course. Welcome. Please, uh, have a seat." Cas said apologetically, giving a welcoming gesture as he held the door open for them. Scott and Stiles set the bags and box down at the bottom of the stairs and went to sit on one of the couches. Cas sat across from them on an identical couch.

"Well… As you know, this is Stiles. I'm his best friend, Scott. It's a pleasure to finally meet you." Scott said cheerily, and held out his hand. Cas took and shook it with a smile, but replied with nothing. Scott didn’t seem to mind initially, smiling over at Stiles. Stiles assumed proud of himself for introducing them so smoothly. They sat there awkwardly for a few seconds before Cas looked at the door to what seemed to be the dining room, seemingly about to call Dean, but before he could, Dean came in with two glasses of some kind of blue drink. He handed them to Scott and Stiles with a slick smile.

"Hey, sorry for leaving you alone with Cas for so long, he can be a bit, uh, socially crippled, for lack of a better word. But our dumbasses completely forgot to get anything to drink at the store so I had to whip something up. Thank fuck we made ice last time we were here." He looked to Cas as he sat down next to him. "You at least introduced yourself, right?" Cas gave Dean a slightly confused look. “Supposed to do that when you first meet someone... Even if you’ve already talked. So they know it’s you… You didn’t, did you?” Cas opened his mouth as if about to give an excuse, suddenly realizing he indeed had not, but then just turned back to them.

"I am Castiel, Cas for short. We talked extensively on the phone, it’s lovely to finally get to meet you both in person. My apologies, I'm just... a bit nervous." Cas explained, voice still gravelly. Stiles and Scott both smiled and nodded understandingly. Stiles looked to Dean to fill him in on the introductions.

"I'm Stiles, this is my best friend Scott I was telling you about. He came to help me with my stuff and meet my- um, you two. Nice to meet you guys. I don't think I've said this yet, and I really wanna get it off my chest so... thanks for taking me in, moving here- It really means the world to me. My only other choice to stay in town probably would've been emancipation, and Tara- my dad's friend- really didn't want me doing that. So, you guys are pretty much life savers." Scott jumped ever so slightly at Stiles' straightforward attitude. Stiles had been avoiding talking about all this for the longest time, but mostly just because he was scared it wouldn't work out. Part of him was glad to finally lay it out in the open at least a little.

"You absolutely have nothing to thank us for, kid, we're beyond ecstatic to have you. 'We casa es tu casa' so make yourselves at home. Um, except don't go through the boxes. We haven’t unpacked everything and we don't really know what's where. Some sharp stuff, some breakables, you know how it is." Dean shrugged and gave a light head shake. “Otherwise you’ve got the run of the place.”

"Cool. So, any other rules you wanna make perfectly clear before there are any problems?" Stiles said, not able to stop thinking how weird this all felt; how weirdly formal it was. Yet Dean chuckled.

"Just don't wake us up if you come home late and keep it down if you bring a chick around." Dean joked. Stiles gave an appreciative smirk, even though he wasn’t all that amused. Castiel tightened up with an inhale but didn't loosen up when he sighed.

"Dean…" He said in a scolding voice. Stiles wasn’t sure if over the bad heteronormative joke, or what.

"Alright, alright. I'm sure we can come up with some more.... Uh… Why don't you start, Cas?" Dean apparently assumed otherwise.

"I believe... curfews are a fairly common rule?" Cas suggested, with a bit of a shrug. Dean sighed.

"Cas, curfews are for losers and idiots. He's just going to break it, because of course he is, he has a life-"

"I actually have zero life, but continue." Stiles interrupted, amused. Dean didn't seem to mind.

"Still, eventually he's gonna break it because curfews are stupid, and we're gonna have to pretend to be mad at him for having fun for once in his life!" Dean turned to Stiles once he finished. "Sorry for the once in your life bit, I'm projecting a little." Stiles shook his head and gave a dismissive wave, not minding at all.

"It's meant to ensure he stays safe and gets a healthy amount of sleep for school. Violations can obviously be dealt with on a case by case basis, but it’s good to have as a general guideline to encourage healthy decisions, is it not?" Cas insisted in a voice Stiles finally recognized a bit more.

"Fine. Ugh... How about... tell us in advance if you're going to be out past 12?" Stiles tried not to show his shock about Dean's apparently genuine leniency. “11 on school nights, I guess. That way we know you've at least got time for a good 7 hours of shut eye. Cas, you wanna come up with something?" Cas took a second, as if thinking, before seeming to have an idea. Stiles was a bit shocked he was fine with the curfew.

"Oh. No Satanism, witchcraft, or necromancy in the house…" Cas said, as if it wasn't the absolute weirdest fucking thing. Dean quickly put a hand on Cas' shoulder as the boys sat up straight at the odd rule.

"Cas… Satanism? Really?" Dean sighed, more in a “don’t bring that up” sort of way, rather than the “What the fuck are you talking about” way that one might expect.

"Oh, no, not my Satanism..." Stiles joked in a monotone voice to lighten the mood.

“Rituals and evocations, I mean of course. Your personal beliefs and preferences and non-ritualistic holiday celebrations are your own business and, of course, welcome, but we’d rather avoid anything that could lead to demonic, spiritual, or otherworldly intrusions of the property, as we’ve gone through a lot to make it as unlikely as possible.”

“ Cas… ” Dean repeated, jerking Cas’ shoulder gently, giving him a very clear “What are you doing, shut the fuck up” sort of look.

"Well, Dean, I do believe a few special rules might be appropriate?" Cas argued the topic carefully, not giving the two of them any hints about what they were on about.

"Fine fine, you're right…” Dean sighed roughly and nodded, seeming to understand what Cas meant. “Another little rule: Let us get the door, unless it's someone you personally know, like Scott. And even then, can’t hurt for them to call or text before they come over. Even if it's like a minute before, that's fine. Generally just make sure you shoot somebody a text before you knock. Got it?" The teens found the request mildly weird and didn't see the point to it, but figured it wasn't terribly unreasonable, especially out in the middle of nowhere with at least two anxious people living there, so they nodded along.

"And if we are not here, and someone you don't know visits, do not let them in, even if they say we're expecting them. The only people that would have an immediate concern have a key, and will announce themselves before letting themselves in. Anyone who does not have a key can wait outside until we return." The two nodded again at Cas' rule, seeming a bit overprotective, but normal enough.

"Also, if we tell you to do something that sounds a bit odd, say like putting salt across the threshold of the doors and windows, just trust us and do it." That's where the boys raised their eyebrows both in confusion and suspicion at Dean. "Oh, also don't touch my car or my guns without expressed permission. Because you will be under house arrest for a month if you do." That was the first time Dean sounded incredibly serious, and it kind of scared Stiles and definitely Scott, distracting from the previous weird remark.

"One last thing, if you randomly find pie in the fridge, please do not eat it. Dean enjoys pie with a passion, so it is likely his, and I’m sure he’d be disappointed if it disappeared." Cas said in a bit of a joking, admiring tone. Dean seemed slightly embarrassed, but didn’t disagree.

"Any questions?" Dean asked. Scott raised his hand, which Stiles found vaguely hilarious. "Other than 'why would we do -blank-' or if we're insane?" Scott lowered his hand. Of course he did. No one could tell Stiles Scott wasn't the second most hilarious man on earth.

"Yeah, one or two." Stiles offered, being sure to sound serious. Dean and Cas both seemed so attentive, Stiles almost felt bad. "First, is the garage included in the 'in the house' part of the witchcraft, necromancy, and Satanism rule?"

"Is it?" Cas asked Dean. Dean gaped at Cas.

"Of course, it is! You think I'm gonna let Baby get possessed or cursed?!" Dean said with serious outrage. Stiles tried not to laugh.

"Aw, but what about my Yule ceremonies? I'm gonna freeze . To death . We’re in the mountains, we get snow!" He said dramatically.

"We're in California . I'll be shocked if it drops under 20. A bit of a chill will be good for ya." Dean insisted with a smirk. Stiles was glad Dean took it in good humor. "Anything else ?" Stiles nodded.

"Would you mind if I hung out with Scott tonight a bit past curfew?" Stiles asked.

"Not at all. Have fun." Dean said quickly. Castiel tilted his head, looking concerned.

"That doesn't sound very safe." He said, a bit unsure.

"He just means hang out as in to spend time together, Cas." Dean leaned over to him and said quietly. Cas rolled his eyes and nodded understandingly.

"I'm aware . Wouldn't it still be best to know where they'll be ?" Cas explained, a bit condescending in return. Dean shrugged, and looked at Stiles for an answer.

"Beacon Hills Preserve." Stiles answered readily.

"…Star gazing?" Dean looked between the two. Stiles nodded, not really caring much what Dean thought.

"Yeah, thing for school." Stiles specified, trying to give the proper impression without being all 'no homo' about it. Dean smirked and winked, apparently not getting the hint.

"Right, have fun with that. Behave, 'cause I'm not answering any calls from jail 'til morning." Dean joked, getting up off the couch. “Gonna hit the store real quick, then start up some chili for later.” Dean jerked his thumb over his shoulder, waiting for them to nod farewell before heading out. Castiel looked at them both with a slight air of worry about him, but nodded.

"As long as you’re both careful… we'll refrigerate your dinner then. Now, would you like me to show you to your room?" The boys both nodded graciously, ignoring that they’d already been up to it on their own plenty, and got up to follow Cas.

Chapter Text

~!~

They were a fifth, maybe a fourth of the way through a bottle of Jack, most of which was Stiles' doing, and Scott had to say he was already at least slightly tipsy. They hadn't even been there that long, two short swigs by Scott, two long ones by Stiles- they hadn't even talked yet. "Your guardians seem... okay …"

"Okay...? Satanism, necromancy, and salting thresholds, Scott? You don’t have to lie, I know they're crazy fuckin' weird, dude. I also met them." Stiles laughed.

"Well, yeah , but I mean they seemed… nice. At least they aren't like the nightmare foster home, adoption stories you see on like Law & Order." Scott was sat on a rock, Stiles laying down next to it. This was how they always arranged themselves when they came up here, whether they were drinking, smoking, at some kind of gathering here, or just hanging out. Scott knew Stiles was fond of it but he honestly didn't know how bright of an idea it was to get drunk in the woods this late at night. ‘ What could possibly happen? Get attacked by a vampire? ’ That's what they always say in the movies. And what happens? Sounds stupid, sure, but sometimes life was just a bundle of stupid movie clichés strung out like a string of paper dolls. Like having your cop dad die in the line of duty, and not being told how or anything , not even getting to see his body , and being suddenly adopted by some weird couple from out of state before you even got his ashes. Scott understood why Stiles wanted to get drunk one last time before they got thrown back into school, so Scott let himself get dragged along, even if he didn't really like alcohol much. It burned more than it numbed for him. His throat and his state of being. But as long as he was with Stiles, it was more than fine. It was nice to have drinking together be a normal thing again.

"No, they're the innocent crazy couple that sacrifices goats in their basement." Stiles muttered amusedly, clearly just riffing, but hitting on gold. Scott looked at him dumbstruck, having almost forgotten what they were talking about, before they both began to laugh.

"They totally are! Gosh..." Scott said, laughing more than was probably earned. "I seriously almost forgot they were a couple! They don’t act like you said at all. More like best bros." Stiles gave a gentle whack in response.

"They do seem like an odd couple though, right? I mean, they're both so…stoic and stiff, and gruff and manly." Stiles said the last part in a mocking way as if at just the idea of gruff-manliness, then snickered, seeming dazed. “I mean they kinda banter like a couple I guess… But like they talked about each other so lovey dovey on the phone, but they weren’t affectionate at... Like all?? It was so jarring. Almost hard to believe they’re the same people…” Stiles rambled devoid of animosity, just observing. That was something he always really liked about Stiles. He was good at just calling things as they were without coming off genuinely judgmental.

"Was it just me or was Dean mega uptight about his car?" Scott asked randomly, enjoying the levity and good natured gossip and teasing.

"UGH! Absolu'ly!” Stiles blurted once he swallowed another long sip, apparently having noticed the same as him. “Dude's overcompensating so much ' could hardly believe he was out, the s’ereotyp’cal masssculinity is insane…" He murmured, probably enjoying the warmth in his stomach. “Must be a boomer thing.”

"But the guy wearing the trench coat…?" Scott grinned.

"Oh, I KNOW!" Stiles cackled loudly, putting his hand over his face. Scott plugged one of his ears but smiled. Stiles deserved a good laugh. There was a bit of silence before Stiles talked again. "I still like him, dhough...He's kinda like you…" Scott gave a little giggle at that thought.

"Oh yeah?" Scott asked, entertaining his drunk friend.

"Yeah, doesn't always get what people are saying, kinda awkward," Stiles said with a funny smiling face. "You seem nicer though, least in pers’n… A big ol' sweetheart…” Stiles paused, and when Scott looked back down at him, Stiles was staring back in a warm, guilty looking way that made him worry a bit about what he was about to say. “Thanks for this, Scott. ‘Ey, I know you're worked up about Lacrosse tomorrow. I'll go out for it with you, if it'll make you com-more comfit-" Stiles giggled, trying to get his words in order. "Make you feel better…" He said it a bit serious, but Scott couldn't take any offers from Stiles when he was like this.

"If you want to tomorrow, I'll have your back." Scott patted Stiles on the chest, partially because it seemed like he was about to pass out. Stiles smiled up at him cheekily.

"I'm gonna do it ten- Then." Stiles giggled and Scott rolled his eyes as he got up, smiling.

"I'm going to go use the... trees… Turn on your side so you don't choke on your vomit. And watch out for predators."

"Dude! Predators?" Stiles scoffed at him. "We're in the middle of nowhere… Noone's comin' out dis late but-... Prarrish tonigh' I thing? And he'ss not a predator... God , he could predat-... pre-date me... " Stiles giggled again.

"I meant animals, Stiles." He corrected, smiling. It was cute seeing him happy for once.

“A’mals?” How Stiles gave him such an incredulous look in his state was beyond Scott.

“ Animals, yes.”

“Ann-im-alls…” Stiles barely managed to roll his eyes, turning away from the fire toward the woods as requested. “Shure, bud.”

"Animals are dangerous, Stiles. A house cat will eat your corpse before you go cold." Scott started walking into the woods, palming his inhaler and his phone in his pocket. 

"Thank God there aren't any cats out here then!” Stiles called after him. “Mountain lions and coyotes ate 'em all!" He giggled, but that just made Scott worry.

He walked for a while until he could just barely see the light of the fire barrel. He had to take a puff off his inhaler after he'd done what he needed, to prepare himself for the trek back. Putting it back in his pocket, it missed the hole and fell to the forest floor, rolling down a hill he hadn’t even noticed next to him. He chased after it.  He was fairly certain he wouldn’t fall, given his familiarity with the terrain, having grown up playing in this very forest, but he watched his feet anyway, in case there was an unexpected root, or the little alcohol he’d had decided to kick in at the worst possible moment. He bent down to pick it up where it had finally stopped. He paused to brush it off on his pant leg. He only noticed softly padding footsteps turn into crunching a moment before something caught him by the sweatshirt, as if it meant to tackle him before he’d bent down, aimed too high, and then tried to grab him anyway. Regardless of the misstep, it did manage to throw him to the ground, and there he was staring up at some… thing, instead of the mountain lion he expected to find. It looked like some kind of dog or wolf, but was bigger and way scarier and it had…. Hands! Scott panicked and looked around for a branch as he struggled against its grabbing, he looked beside him and saw open, peering, dead eyes. Literally dead . There was a dead woman next to him. He turned his attention to the beast closing in, now lumbering above him and, not knowing what else to do, he jabbed it in both of its red eyes, like his mom had taught him for self defense. But that worked; it let go of him, grabbing at its face, and shook its head. Scott took off towards the car before he could think. But what if Stiles wasn’t conscious, or able to jump up and run? He couldn't get him in the Jeep before that thing ripped them both to shreds. It was going to follow him, and he had to lead it away. He swiftly turned and ran as fast as he could toward the road. He did his best to scream for help, but the best he could muster was a shout, unable to get a decent breath. He hadn't managed to grab his inhaler and he sure could have used it now. That thing was already following him. Fuck , it was so much faster than him... But Scott was smaller than it, somehow, and thanks to forced cross country track he had no problem swishing quickly through the tightly placed trees, even if he couldn’t get a full breath in his lungs while doing it without his whole chest aching. Toward the road the trees were thinner, and the last stretch was basically open with no obstacles. His only chance was to pull the best sprint he could and try to get the attention of a car he hoped he heard approaching. He almost made it when he felt a set of teeth sink into his side and he howled in pain. He spun, fell to his back, and kicked it as he rolled with the force of the attack, pushing it off him, making it stumble back into the road on two legs, stumbling backwards like a person . The approaching SUV hit it going at least 40, throwing his attacker a few feet up the road and earning itself an awful dent in the hood. The huge canine creature didn’t miss a beat though, running off almost immediately, so fast he wondered if the people in the vehicle had seen it. He didn’t get a chance to ask, as they stopped for only a moment. They tore off as Scott tenderly started to push himself up off the ground. Fine with him, he supposed, as long as that awful creature had been scared off. He needed to get back to Stiles and quickly at that.

Chapter Text

~!~

Stiles had turned on his side even though he thought Scott was being unreasonable. Sure, his head was swimming with the sudden influx of whiskey in his system, more by the minute, but he didn’t think he’d say he was quite drunk yet. The thing making his head swim was probably more him being tired, laying down in the silky dirt of the firepit area, being able to really relax for the first time in weeks, in the dark rustling woods they’d grown up in. He wouldn’t lie, he might indeed fall asleep, but he had never been much of a drunk vomiter, at least not without outside influence, and he had barely eaten all day. Still, he stayed as Scott had asked, even if just to have Scott not freak out if he came back to find him passed out. He laid on his side staring out into the dark night of the state forest, letting his eyes slowly adjust so he could see the leftover leaves and debris from the past years quiver and dance in the wind, and catch the odd glimpse of an animal moving through or checking in on what was going on with him and the fire. 

A cry rang out, sharp but stifled, as if Scott had fallen suddenly, and cried out. He knew it wasn’t his imagination as the crows and owl watching over him quickly departed their perches. He sat up, glancing around for movement. “Scott?? You okay, bud??” He called, voice scratchy with the sleep that had soaked into it. A scream this time echoed through the woods, panicked, shrill with fear, making him jump to his feet. He had to pause as his vision blurred and his brain hurt from suddenly getting up.

His head was swimming. He couldn’t tell if he was drunk. But he knew he’d just heard Scott call out for help, a muted haggard cry. “... Help!!... ” He heard from the depths of the woods. He got up and looked at the woods surrounding him, trying to discern what way Scott had gone. He still heard things, but in the dead void of the woods, he couldn’t tell where it was coming from, what were the noises and what were their echoes. He had to be drunk. This should have been no problem for him if he was anywhere near sober. He chose the general direction he thought the noise was coming from but it had since gone quiet, or was too far to hear, so he had no way of knowing if he was right.

“Scott!?! SCOTT!!” He tried but kept receiving no reply. Regardless he kept jogging and yelling, constantly looking through the trees for any speck of movement to latch onto and chase down. He thought he saw something in the distance. He’d swore he saw movement- human-like movement - beyond the trees. He surged forward without thinking, sprinting through the root laced woods, cautionless. Inevitably he tripped. He’d almost tripped a few times, and he hadn’t thought to be more careful, too worried about getting to Scott as soon as possible. This time he ate dirt for his carelessness, his luck not about to give him anymore chances to learn apparently. But of course, it had to be at the top of a decently steep hill, and he went where gravity pulled him. He landed hard, trees and rocks and roots beating him as he rolled down the hill. He built up so much speed he started to bounce a bit, and he worried how he was going to gain back control, but just then his head slammed against a thick trunk, jarring him from the straight log shape his body had taken on of its own drunken accord. The forced realignment helped slow him slightly, but he continued rolling until his legs slammed into another tree, scratching the skin under his jeans as they pulled away from the tree. He groaned as he rolled gingerly down the rest of the hill. He was hurting bad but he could still see the big charred blob that he knew could only be the Hale house, out in the woods like this. Shit, really?! Of all the places he could end up… What was this, a horror movie? He didn’t even care. He didn’t have the strength to move anyway and he now felt blood going down the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he’d bleed to death, but it wasn’t all that light flowed either, it’d certainly be ruining his white graphic tee in no time. He closed his eyes and groaned, almost communing with nature as if calling his little friends of the forest to help him. But instead he heard footsteps rustling in the leaves, and someone quietly growl in frustration. As if he was pleased to be here either.

“What the hell…” The person sighed. Stiles turned his head gently and looked up at the figure. Stiles’ vision was still shit, so the only thing he could make sense of, especially at such a distance, were, oddly, the guy’s eyes. They were a piercing steel gray-blue. “Hey, get outta here. You hear me? This is private property!” The guy called as he waltzed over. Who the fuck was this guy? The only dude left of the Hale family was in fucking New York. Maybe he was a lawyer or groundskeeper or a new deputy he wasn't familiar with, but any of those didn't give him the right to be a dick to someone who clearly just fucking ate it right in front of him. Stiles only grumbled at his utter rudeness.

“My friend… was-was in trouble. I heard him yell… went looking... I fell down the hill.” Is what he was trying to say, but he didn’t know how much of that actually got out of his mouth or was anywhere near coherent. But whoever this guy was seemed to at least understand part of it, because he looked up the hill, and back down at Stiles’ now limp body. He seemed to glare at something he saw up the hill but Stiles didn’t particularly have the strength to care. He didn’t have the strength to do much else but pass out. So he did.

Chapter Text

~!~

By the time Scott had limped back to the picnic area it was almost 2am. The bottle of Jack was gone and Stiles was nowhere to be seen. Scott looked over to the Jeep, on the edge of panic. He saw part of a shoe and rushed over. Thankfully the shoe was still attached to the foot, and both feet attached to the body, and the same seemed to be the case for the rest of his limbs. Stiles was just laying in the back of the jeep. No, wait. Not laying... He was laid out. On his back, a blanket partially covering him, over both his arms. He had a minor gash to the back of the head, he noticed as he gave a quick check. Stitches worthy, but not too bad. Scott shook his head, not wanting to know what had happened. Stiles was okay. He was mostly okay. That was all that mattered. He jumped into the front seat, found the spare key Stiles kept hidden for emergencies, and pulled out, driving back to Stiles’ adoptive parents’ place. Despite how anxious he was, the drive was uneventful.

Once he’d parked in the driveway, he dragged Stiles into the house, having had to lie Stiles on the ground and dig his out keys, that were thankfully still in his pocket, to get in. And fuck did the panic hit him seeing Dean sitting on the couch in pajamas, with a beer watching TV. He jumped up when he saw them, setting down his beer. He wasn’t sure what else he was expecting, of course he was going to go to Stiles’ adoptive parents for help, he was bringing him to their house. Maybe he was just hoping Stiles would end up waking up, so he didn’t have to explain all on his own, not even knowing what happened. Maybe it was because they were finally safe, and there was nothing to distract him now. All he knew was the fear and panic hit him like a wave.

“What happened?” The man who’d been so jovial earlier was now completely serious, coming over to help get Stiles away from the door and close and lock it behind them. Scott was flustered, confused.

“S-something, some kind of-of predator attacked me in the woods; I don’t know what happened to Stiles. He was pretty drunk; I-I think he might have fallen or something.” He tried to explain, feeling helpless knowing that was all he could really say he knew. Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Predator?” Dean questioned, Scott assumed, the wording. He just nodded. “What kind of predator?” Scott didn’t know what to say, how to describe it. He could have been wrong about the hands… it was late, and he had been drinking, maybe he was just seeing things. It had definitely been a canine though, not a cat…

“It was like some huge dog or something, with red eyes… I think it killed a woman. I-I saw a dead body.” Scott laid out what he was sure about. Dean scrunched up his face in confusion and concern, but shook his head. “Shouldn’t we lay him down on something… other than the floor?” He decided to ask, wanting to change the subject. Dean put one arm under Stiles’ back and the other one under his legs and lifted Scott’s lanky friend with ease. Scott followed him into the dining room, and helped him gently lay Stiles down on the table, adjusting his long limbs to keep him from squirming in his sleep to do it himself. Dean checked out Stiles’ head wound but Scott already knew it would almost definitely need stitches to heal properly.

“Damn, kid… What’d you do to yourself?” Dean asked bewilderedly. He walked off with purpose, but Scott stayed with Stiles, gently rubbing his arm, which was scored with little scratches, some red with barely risen blood. Dean came back with a heavy duty first aid kit and put it down by Stiles’ legs. He brought some peroxide up to Stiles’ head, turned it and poured it over the wound, whipping it up off the table with a paper towel. He came back and pulled out a needle and some stitching wire. Before Scott could even realize what he was doing and protest, he had gone back, sat down, and sewn up the gash on the back of Stiles’ head. Stiles barely flinched the whole time, but Scott cringed the entire time, knowing Stiles would hate it if he knew. Dean patted the wound with a wet washcloth and taped a bandage over it. Scott could already hear Stiles complaining about it pulling out his hair. Then Dean pointed at Scott’s side. Scott looked down to find his blood perfectly visible soaking through his red hoodie in the light. “Take ‘em off. I’ll check it out real quick.” Scott felt embarrassed but trusted the man. He had performed those stitches perfectly with zero effort. Good as his mom. He was going to take care of it himself when he got home anyway, he might as well have a pro do it since the opportunity was present. Hell, he might even need stitches himself. He took off the hoodie and slowly pulled the t-shirt over his head, wincing as the fabric pulled away from the bite. Dean sat in the dining chair he was standing by and looked solely at Scott’s bitten side. “I’ve seen a lot worse.” Dean said, giving a reassuring nod. “Stay still. If I mess up, it’s definitely going to scar.” He warned, getting up and taking the towel he’d used to pat down Stiles’ wound to the kitchen. When he came back, blood rinsed off the washcloth best it could be and now wet all over, Dean wiped his side clean of blood, wiped it down thoroughly with peroxide, quickly stitched the worst of the teeth marks, and bandaged it carefully. “Just keep it clean. Got it?” Scott nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell your mom. Let me get boozy here to bed and I’ll give you a lift home.” Dean assured, picking Stiles up and carrying him away. Scott brushed his fingers over the bandage. Was the bite really not that bad? Dean came back wearing a jacket and carrying a set of keys. He threw Scott a shirt and a plastic bag to put his shirt and hoodie in. “You might want to just throw them out. You never get blood out of a white t-shirt.” Scott followed him out to the garage and got into a car he only knew was fairly old, maybe 60’s or 70’s. Dean pulled out of the garage slowly, probably trying not to make too much noise. He turned to Scott once on the main road.

“If your mom asks, just say you were over here, kay? Freakin’ her out won’t do any good.” Scott didn’t nod. “If she finds out about that , I dunno, just tell her you two went out for a hike, and you fell, or if she sees it that it’s a bite, that you just... got lightly attacked by a mountain lion or something, and you didn’t wanna worry her.”

“Really??” He asked unbelievingly. Dean looked at Scott not understanding what the problem was. “Stiles got hurt. Aren’t you mad?” Dean scoffed.

“Kinda. Not at you though. Not at either of you.” Dean answered. Scott narrowed his eyes, not quite getting how Dean could be not mad, suspecting he was lying. “I was a kid once too, ya know? I went out plenty, got in trouble a lot myself. I dealt with it myself at your age. I grew up differently than you two. I don’t want you guys to feel bad for doing normal shit, and I don’t want you guys feeling like you can’t come to us if you need help. If you have trouble with something, I’ve got your back. You were just trying to have a good time. You didn’t do anything wrong. Either of you.” Dean shifted uncomfortably. “Now, let’s stop with all the mushy shit. How do ya like Led Zeppelin?”

“I’ve never actually listened to it…” Scott shook his head. Dean looked shocked by this.

“Well… You’re finally going to.” He popped a cassette in the player. A song started playing. It was fine. A bit drawn out and soft. But good for the situation. The next was very similar, but so long it went on for the rest of the ride. 

They got to Scott’s house and Scott was ready to get out but the car engine kicked off and Dean moved to get out too. As Scott looked at him wide-eyed, Dean looked back at him. 

“There’s a car out front and the lights are on. You aren’t sneaking in. She’s probably waiting for you. I’ll cover.” Dean explained. Scott was nervous but he nodded, trusting Dean yet again. They went up to the door and his mom pulled the door open, obviously mad and worried. She didn’t bother with Dean.

“Where the hell were you without a goddamned word?! Do you have any idea how worried I was?!” His mom scolded, standing in the doorway, hand on the door jam still holding the door. Scott held his hands in front of his chest as if a hostage at gunpoint.

“I was over at Stiles’ new place! Mr. Winchester brought me home.” He defended the best he could, wishing he had Stiles here to do the talking. His mom looked over at Dean slightly calmer. Dean smiled a slick smile. Wait. He wasn’t really trying to charm her, was he??

“Sorry, Melissa…” Dean drawled, tone way too close to flirty for Scott’s liking. “The boys fell asleep while they were setting up Stiles’ room after dinner. We were gonna let him stay over, but he woke up a bit ago and said you’d be worried if he didn’t get home. Really sorry for keeping him so late. They just looked too adorable to wake up, ya know?” Thank goodness his mom wasn’t falling for it. At least, not much...

“It’s fine, Dean, I get it…” She sighed, giving a strained smile. “Just shoot me a call next time, okay? I worry.” She put a gentle hand on his shoulder and guided him inside. “Get to bed, Scott. Don’t wanna be tired for practice tomorrow.” He nodded, giving a hesitant glance between the two of them where they stood at the door to keep chatting before he hurried off.

Chapter Text

Derek got off his couch of a bed. He had finished burying his sister (or at least half of his sister) this morning and he may or may not have been crying since. He heard someone outside. Teenagers. Sigh….Maybe if he mauled one of the little bastards they’d keep off their property. He sprinted to where they were. He heard a howl, and then laughing, but he couldn't hear the words following, mingled with the crunch of sticks and leaves.

“It's not funny, there could be something seriously something wrong with me!” A soft voice scolded seriously.

"I know, you're a werewolf! Okay, obviously I'm kidding. But if you see me with a lot of silver this week, it's not 'cause I'm going to propose to Lydia in an attempt for her to finally see me. The full moon is Friday." This voice was more pointed, but was smooth. Reminded him of the hard cinnamon candies Laura'd been fond of, or of fireball whiskey, which he had bought a bottle of earlier after he polished off the JD he found last night when some kid rolled down the hill near the house.

“Dude, I swear it was right here. I used the bathroom over there, I started back, dropped it, Then that thing tackled me and I saw the body."

"Maybe the killer came back for the body." Derek could see the boys now. One was paler with short brown hair. He was probably the boy from last night. Derek couldn't recall it perfectly. He didn't care to look the boy over, he just wasn't about to leave him in the middle of the woods in the state he was in. With a strange wolf's scent near it would be equivalent to rolling over and showing his belly to it. The other, the one looking for the inhaler, was a light tan- most likely as a result of heritage, not a trip to the beach- and had long curly black hair. He'd never seen him but his scent was thick where he'd found Laura, and on and around the Jeep where he'd left the other kid.

"I hope he left my inhaler, those things cost like 80 bucks." Right, Inhaler. Probably the one he’d found last night near Laura.

“Hey!” The pale one looked up to Derek and started to squirm. He fussed after hitting his friend on the back to alert him. “What are you doing out here? This is private property!”

“Sorry, man… W-we didn’t know.” The stutter was subtle, but Derek noticed and toned down his glare by a joule of power.

“Yeah, we were just looking for something.” Derek tossed the tan kid his inhaler.

“I don’t want to see you around here again.” The jumpy one nodded before Derek started to walk away. Even at a distance, he could hear the fidgety one whisper.

“Dude! Do you know who that was?!”

“Should I??”

“Dude, Derek fricking Hale, he’s only a few years older than us. His family lived around here, most of them died in a fire.”

“Oh.” He heard the fidgety one whack his friend softly.

“Leave it to you to wonder into Hale property, find a mauled body, and lose your inhaler… Hey, maybe He has a pet wolf.” Derek waited a second to listen to see if they'd say anything telling about the other wolf as they walked off.

“I feel like you aren’t taking me seriously…”

“Of course I am.” The pale one howled at a medium volume, probably not wanting Derek to hear him.

“Maybe it’ll come now, and we can catch your wolfie friend.” Ugh, that wasn't even funny…

“Funny… Really funny… Next time I’m going to leave you up here.” They pushed each other, laughing as they walked off.

Chapter Text

Stiles rubbed his neck, looking up to the top shelf at checkout. The second Practice had killed him, trying to do as well as Scott, because he promised he’d try. He might have been drunk, but a drunken promise is still a promise. Meanwhile, Scott had been doing gymnastics on the field as if he was a God made prodigy, WHICH Stiles could assure you he wasn’t. And at the first practice, he also caught every attempted goal, which he also shouldn’t have been able to do. The werewolf thing was continuously looking more fitting, especially after his Dad’s old friend and coworker Tara dished that half a body was found with wolf fur on it, that same night. Scott had probably found the top half, but he was saving all that for a full blow research session later. Now he was ready to check out of the store with his Groceries. Unlike a normal grocery store the checkout shelves were as tall as an of the aisle shelves. They put the more mature magazines and old candy no one likes or knows about. Whatchamacallits, Razzles, candy cigarettes, chocolate coins, even candy buttons. Since he was too young to buy the magazines, he grabbed a couple bags of chocolate coins, a bag of Razzles for Scott, and a couple Whatchamacallits for Dean and Cas. He had already elected to make dinner, but he felt bad for being such trouble the night before. The buttons were half gone, so he couldn’t reach. He just kept trying to pull a sheet of them closer with the very end of his finger. Damn it!! If only he was an inch taller. He sighed and pulled his arm down just to see a leather-covered arm reach up and grab the sheet he’d just been trying for and hand it to him.

“Here…” Stiles nodded and murmured his thanks, thoroughly embarrassed. He was too busy sorting his candy to make it easiest to carry to look at the guy. “Making a family dinner? You’re parents must be pretty proud.” Stiles sighed in his head. It was astounding that he never realized how often people said that. First couch in a motivational speech to them before practice. A janitor he barely knew at school said that to him after he almost broke his neck getting a goal at lacrosse practice. A senile old woman who thought his name was Gilmen said the same when he helped her pick out produce. He swore he didn’t hear it twice as much before his dad died. He was getting sick of having to be gentle with other people about his problems, when he just wanted to be blunt. He didn't realize he'd spoke his mind until he'd said it, but he didn't really care.

“I wouldn’t know, I’m an orphan.” He muttered it at a normal volume trying to figure out how to manage carrying all the candy, he finally just dropped it in his cart, hoping check out wouldn’t take too long.

“Really? Same.” Stiles looked up to see if it was someone he knew of. Derek freaking Hale is in my check out line... “But I’m guessing you aren’t eating all that food yourself.”

“Uh, um, No. Cooking for my foster parents. Or well these two guys putting up with me until I finish high school. I just got put with them and I’m already causing more trouble for them than I used to cause my dad.” Stiles would have sworn the awkward statement took him 5 minutes to get out. “How long is this flipping line?” Shit. He said that out loud. Derek looked ahead of him.

“Like five people with half full carts.” ‘Holy Shit, is Derek freaking Hale smiling at me?' “So, what are you making?”

“Um… Stir fry. I think….” Derek gave him an amused look.

“Well, you’re gonna want to use some soy sauce or some make a broth for that. It's not too good dry.” Stiles nodded, feeling a bit out of place.

“Yeah, uh, soy sauce. I think the Guys have some at their house.” Derek nodded seeming much more comfortable.

“How’d you hurt your head?” Stiles stifled a laugh but shook his head smirking and probably blushing.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” Derek shrugged giving him a casual half smirk back.

“You’d be surprised.” Stiles laughed to himself softly.

“Went out drinking. My best friend got chased through the woods by a werewolf, I went looking for him and took a header down a hill, bashing my head into a tree.” He watched Derek to see if he would be freaked out. He just nodded.

“Sounds like a fun week.” Stiles shrugged; happy he hadn’t made the most intimidating man on earth run from him.

“Weekend, but generally yes.” Stiles still couldn’t get over the fact that Derek Hale was smiling at him again!

“So, this friend helping you through it?” Stiles wondered for a minute what he meant, when he realized Derek had figured out his dad had died, he tried to review how much he’d said about it, embarrassed.

“Uh, he has been. He’s kind of goo-goo for a chick right now, but I can’t really blame him. He was getting a bit over bearing anyway. I could use a bit of time to think about it on my own.” Derek nodded. He was a lot less intimidating in a conversation.

“My sister was the same way. She didn’t want to give me even a minute to feel bad about it.” Derek seemed sad mentioning his sister. Before either knew it, it was Derek’s turn at the register. Stiles was a bit sad their conversation had to end, but he was still surprised when he was handed half a receipt with a number on the back, with “Derek 'Freaking' Hale” written directly under it. Oh god did I call him that out loud. Unbeknownst to Stiles, he'd just heard him and Scott earlier that week. “In case your friend is too busy with that girl…” Stiles smiled and took it. Derek seemed hesitant to smile back but he did. And for Stiles, that was amazing enough. He got back to getting his groceries checked out once he thought Derek had got going. There were a few more bags than he thought there would be. He was trying to figure out how to carry them all when he heard the smooth voice again. “You need help with those?” Derek was standing behind him. He blushed but smiled as Derek grabbed three of the six bags.

“Thanks…” Derek and he walked out to Stiles’ Jeep in an awkward but nice silence. Or at least nice while it lasted. Derek’s chuckle broke the silence.

“This is your car?” Stiles’ blushed again.

“Well where’s your car mister classy?” Derek smirked and pointed to a shiny black Camaro not too far away.

“Of course you have an overly gorgeous car… How very fitting.”

“Does that mean you think I’m gorgeous?” Stiles gave a chuckle with his lips tight together.

“Mm, I have to think about it. Ask me again when I call you…” Stiles was sure not to be too quick loading car. “Enjoy your overly gorgeous car…” Stiles waved before hoping into his Jeep.

“I didn’t catch your name.” Stiles smiled out to him.

“It’s Stiles… Stiles Stilinski.” Derek stood there a second smiling, before sauntering off towards his car. Stiles pulled out of the lot and drove home smiling to himself softly.

Chapter Text

He had a hard time carrying six bags at once but finally just carried one at each elbow and then carrying two in each hand. After a struggle with the door he stumbled into the house to see Dean and Cas sitting and talking with a tan guy with brown hair, he seemed to be tall, even sitting. He planned to ignore the whole thing and get dinner started, but Dean stood up and started over to him gesturing the guy to stand. Thankfully Dean grabbed the three bags on his left arm, and Stiles adjusted the remaining baggage giving Dean quick thanks.

“Stiles, this is my brother, Sam. He’s going to be hanging around a couple days, helping me out with some stuff.” Stiles shook the man’s hand with a slight smile. He gave back the same smile.

“Nice to meet you, Stiles. Enjoy staying with the guys so far??” Stiles nodded.

“Yeah, they’ve both been great; I was actually going to make dinner. Are you and Dean gonna stick around?” Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam nodded and Dean patted Stiles on the shoulder. “Yeah, we can stick around. Sam’s probably hungry anyways.” Sam nodded and shrugged.

“Yeah, actually, funny story, Luce was mad about me coming and took the food I had packed for the road.” Dean held back a snicker. Sam rolled his eyes. “I have no idea why you two don’t get along better, at the same maturity level and all.” Dean gave a just fake pout.

“How am I supposed to get along with anybody sleeping with my baby brother?” Stiles could tell Sam was gritting his teeth in his mouth.

“Don’t say that so misleadingly…”

“How is it misleading?” Dean feigned innocence. Sam sighed and spoke directly to Stiles.

“He means that literally not figuratively.” Stiles smiled.

“I’m a 16 year old American boy who plays sports. I know a gay joke when I hear it. I’m guessing Luce is a guy, since you saw the need to point out that you aren’t ‘sleeping together’.” Sam nodded.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I mean, would be wrong with that. But there isn’t. Wouldn’t be. It’s just, he in particular can be kind of….”

“--’An insufferable dick’, in Dean’s words. Would you like me to help you prepare dinner, Stiles?” Castiel thankfully pulled him away from the awkward situation. Stiles leaned toward his savior to speak quietly.

“Thanks, Cas. Do you guys have any soup broth or soy sauce or something?” Cas nodded and led Stiles to the kitchen and started going through a box. He handed Stiles a bottle of Soy sauce, then pulled out a bottle of water with a rosary in it, with a smile.

“Dean will be most pleased I found this. I’ve set out a wok and a set of tongs for you. Please excuse me.” As soon as Cas left the kitchen he called loudly. “Dean! I’ve found the holy water!!” Stiles found that amusing but not half as amusing as Sam and Dean shushing him loudly. At this point he just accepted that this was a weird family he had unwillingly become a part of. Especially after finding a jar full of blood which, Cas “comforted”, was just a dead man’s blood. Stiles got to cooking. He melted a few of the chocolate coins on top once it was almost done. Which turned out pretty damn good, but tasting it burned his tongue. He served the chicken and veggie stir fry over rice and set the table.

“Soup’s on!!” Dean seemed to have been giving a light chuckle before he came in and sat down.

“This looks great, Stiles! Scott going to join us or is he home tonight?” Dean took a bite and burned his tongue too, but laughed at himself softly for it. Cas and Sam had the sense to blow on it first.

“Home as far as I know.” Sam made a happily surprised sound.

“Stiles, is there chocolate in this??”

“Yeah, I picked up a couple bags of those chocolate coins at the store, melted a couple over the mix, and tossed it a bit. Surprisingly good right?” Dean smiled.

“Sammy loved those as a kid. It really tastes great Stiles.” Cas looked confused.

“Chocolate coins??” Stiles was also used to Cas’ weird ignorance and disturbing knowledge of certain things. He got up and retrieved a handful of the coins for him. Cas inspected them, not seeming to get it. He bit into it and made a perplexed face. “This is tinfoil not chocolate.” Stiles took a different one and peeled it.

“The chocolate is on the inside. The tinfoil is just a wrapper.” Cas took the piece of chocolate and inspected that.

“These are rather amusing.” He ate the coin. “And quite good.”

“Yeah, surprised you didn’t ever have any as a kid. They’re big on Easter.” Cas just looked at Dean then back at Stiles, nodded, and went back to eating his stir fry.

“This is a very nice combination.” Stiles shook his head in dismissal.

“Glad you like it, Cas.” Stiles finished first and collected his dishes. “Um, I’m probably gonna go up to my room and do some -uh- homework.” He washed up his dishes and came back out with the candy he’d bought. He gave the Whatchamacallits to Sam and Dean and the extra bag of coins to Cas. Dean grinned, happy to get the candy.

“Thank you~. Night kid. You know where our room is if you need us. Leave your door open a crack, unless you’re looking at porn. Then just open it before you go to bed. Did you salt your window like I asked?” Stiles rolled his eyes. Dean had decided it was best (for whatever messed up reason) that the windows and exterior doors remain salted at all times.

“Yes, sir. I put it in the space for when the window is closed so the wind wouldn’t break the line.” Dean smiled.

“What a natural. Go on, do your homework or whatever you kids call it these days.” Stiles hurried upstairs. He wondered if it was too soon to call Derek as he turned on his computer. It had been a couple hours since they saw each other at the store. A text was the safe bet. He pulled out his cell and entered the number Derek gave him as a recipient.

“hey.” It wasn’t long before his phone blooped.

“Kid from the grocery store that thinks my car and I are gorgeous?” Stiles smiled.

“Oddly specific. How many people did you give your # to today??”

“Hm. Exact # or estimate?”

“I think it’ll help my self-esteem if Idk.”

“Don’t worry. Just u. Glad to hear from u. I was worried u might lose my number.”

“I could never.” Stiles immediately sent another. “Believe me, I tried. I swear u put glue on it or something.”

“Aren’t u witty.”

“It’s a talent I was born with. Both a blessing and a curse.”

“I know the feeling.”

“Hru?” This time the reply took a few minutes.

“Tbh, not great.”

“What’s wrong??” Again the reply was delayed.

“My older sister died recently. I just had to bury her this week.”

“Are you okay?? I can tell you two were close by how you talked about her.” A minute or two later his phone blooped again.

“Yeah, I’m used to the feeling. It hurts but, I think I’ll be fine.”

“I can come over if you’d prefer company?”

“No.” This time it was immediate. Only a few seconds after he’d asked, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt a little. “It’s not that I don’t want to see you, it’s just best if you don’t come over. I’m at my family’s old place.” Stiles started typing his reply: That’s fine. If you don’t want me to come over, we can just text. He didn’t get to send it before Derek replied again. “Could I come over? I’d really like to see you.” Stiles didn’t really know how good of an idea that was. The guys’ place was practically on the on the other side of town from the Hale house. Dean had basically grounded Stiles from the outside world passed the 11pm curfew(still 12 on weekends). No guests, except Scott and only if he was staying the night, which he had to do Tuesday to have dinner with them, because Cas wouldn't let him ride home in the dark. By the time Derek got there it’d be passed 11. Sneaking out was one thing, but sneaking a guy in…

“Our place is pretty far. I don’t know how the guys would react to me having a guy they don’t know over in the middle of the night. I’d have to sneak you in. And be forewarned: I’ve never done that.”

“Sounds fun. I can B there in half an hour.”

“Window all the way to the right facing the back of the house. You should be able to climb up onto the roof of the back room. Cu then.” After texting Derek the address, Stiles tidied up his room and put on a touch of deodorant. Which took all of five minutes. He sat down and started a bit of mild research, which he deemed completely useless.

Chapter Text

Dinner after Stiles went up stairs consisted of 30 of discussion of the problem of what sounded like a hellhound attacking their new foster son’s best friend, which he hoped would be more sensible in the morning. After 30 minutes he had to call it a night. Cas took the dishes and he and Sam went upstairs. He stopped in to check on Stiles.

“Hey. What’s up?” Stiles seemed to be hiding something, but he figured it was just that he wasn’t really doing homework, which Dean already assumed.

“Hey. We’re all heading to bed. You know where we are.” Stiles smiled at him and nodded.

“Sleep well. If I stay up I’ll make sure there’s coffee made.” Dean smiled.

“Cas and Sam should be up in the morning to keep you company. Sweet dreams.” Dean took a quick shower and brushed his teeth before going back in his and Cas’ bedroom and turning off the lights. He stood at the window, first to check that it was still salted, but then to admire the night. Before he had time to enjoy it he saw something moving in the dark and then heard a thud on the roof of the back porch. He looked out only to barely see something slip into Stiles’ window. Dean quickly grabbed his pistol out of his bedside table.

“What’s wrong Dean?” Cas’ voice got rougher when he was nervous or worried or confused. It was definitely rough now.

“Nothing. Stay here. I’ll take care of it.” As Dean went down the hall, Sam opened his door and looked down the hall and back at him, asking if he needed back up, but Dean gestured for Sam to stay where he was. As he approached Stiles door Dean swore he heard whispers. Dean opened the door and aimed his gun, scaring Stiles and surprising what seemed to be his guest.

“Oh, god! He’s not breaking in, don’t shoot!” Dean lowered his weapon and gave an angry sigh.

“I’m not going to shoot him! Yet, anyway. Who the hell is he and why is he here?!”

“Th-This is Derek Hale and he’s here to talk. Just talk.” Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“Stiles, Why is he breaking in, in the middle of the night, to talk?”

“Uh, could I please talk to you about this in the hall?” Dean was tempted to say no and just kick the guy out, but Stiles’ pleading tone got to him a bit. He sighed and pulled Stiles into the hall and closed the bedroom door. “To start, don’t hold this against Derek. I told him to sneak in.”

“M-hm. Why?”

“Because it’s late and I didn’t think you'd want me having some guy you don’t know coming over in the middle of the night after Sunday. You and Cas have been freaked out all week.”

“Because giving us a heart attack is such a better option? We're worried about you, Stiles. Sue us.”

“I’m sorry; I just didn’t think you’d find out honestly.”

“And not to mention having some guy over in the middle of the night without us knowing, how well do you even know this guy? He could be a serial killer or a rapist or a cornucopia of things you could not possibly imagine!”

“He’s an acquaintance. His family died when he was young. I ran into him today and we got to talking. We were texting after dinner and he told me his sister died just recently so and he said he wanted to talk, so I invited him over.” Dean sighed feeling a bit guilty.

“This time I’ll let you get away with it. Next time you want to have someone over passed ten, tell us. I don’t care what entrance they use, but I’d prefer the front door. I honestly don’t wanna see him here in the morning, so make sure he’s out of here by one.” Dean hesitantly gave Stiles a quick hug. After pulling away he pulled out the sternest voice he could muster. “And if you scare me like that again, I will nail your window shut and you will be home schooled until you go to college, do you understand me boy?” Stiles nodded curtly.

“Yes, sir. Sorry.” Dean nodded back and tried not to smile.

“Good. I’m going to bed. If he’s a serial killer, yell for Sammy. He’s a light sleeper. If he’s a rapist, there’s a shotgun in your closet.” Dean walked calmly back to bed. Cas was pacing. “Our kid just had a boy sneak into his room.” Dean hugged the angel from behind.

“Normally that would mean the boy is his romantic interest.”

“Yep… Seems like it.”

“Shouldn’t we meet this boy?” Cas leaned back into him gently. Dean rested his head on Cas’ shoulder.

“No, not yet. Stiles said the guy’s here to talk and I believe it. So, we wait for Stiles to want us to meet him. They may not even get serious.”

“Did the boy seem nice?”

“God no. He was wearing jeans, a leather jacket, and I think high tops. He was my height and I’d be surprised if he was more than 10 years younger than me. I'm pretty sure I smelled booze. I wanted to shoot the guy.” Dean sighed. “I probably would have if I’d known Stiles for more than a week.”

“If it means anything, I firmly believe that makes you a good father…” Dean smiled and kissed Cas’ cheek.

“I really love you…” Dean turned for the door again. "I think I'm going to go bust the door in again just to scare him enough to keep his hands off Stiles for the night." Cas chortled and hugged him from behind, keeping him there with his angel.

Chapter Text

It was almost noon and as Stiles guessed he skipped school. Cas had checked in, but when Stiles told him he was staying home to do research and that none of the teachers really taught anything the first week of school, Cas even called the school to tell them he wouldn’t be into school. So he sat at the computer all morning, using his Adderall to stay awake and focused and covering his floor with printed information off the internet. He grabbed some of the breakfast Cas had made at Cas’ request and nipped at it every now and then taking a real bite when he heard Cas coming to check on him every hour. He also glanced at his phone and the number he’d taped to the back of it. Derek had disappeared last night while he was talking to Dean, leaving a note saying “Sorry for getting you in trouble.” And he hadn’t answered Stiles’ texts since. Sam had woken up early and Stiles could hear the man moving around in the guest room. Stiles could only guess he was working out. A few minutes ago he’d come out of his room and went into the bathroom to take a shower. Maybe it was a bad idea to have his door open while he was researching… 10 minutes passed before Sam exited the bathroom. He froze outside Stiles’ room and looked at him.

“Hey, Stiles….” Stiles swished his hand in a busy dismissive wave.

“Yo…” Despite his clear body language signals Sam came in slowly, as if it made him less intrusive.

“Whatcha up to??” He stood a few feet away on a clear spot on the increasingly unorganized filing cabinet that was his floor.

“Research… Cas called in my absence to school.” Sam looked around at all the paper lying about. He picked up a picture of a hairy wolf-looking guy in old clothing with a bloody cartoon bullet hole in his chest.

“On… wolf men?”

“Werewolves actual… got to go through the junk to get the goods. Welcome to the internet.” Stiles said still sifting through Google results.

“Interested in the topic?”

“Recently.” Stiles printed another stack and set it on top of his printer.

“Why is that?” Sam seemed a bit suspicious, so Stiles just kept typing. “Stiles?”

“I’m kinda busy. You mind if we chill another time??” Sam backed off pretty quick.

“Yeah, sure. We can chat later.”

Chapter Text

Sam had gone on a run a couple hours later to clear his head of what went on between Stiles and him. He was actually worried the kid might hate him. As he returned from his run a teen with black curly hair push past him, storming out. He shrugged it off, figuring it wasn’t any of his business. He got himself some milk out of the kitchen and plopped himself in front of the TV to watch cooking shows and HGTV while Dean and Cas were out buying suits, for Cas who was apparently going to start working at the high school Monday. Stiles came down the stairs seeming to be in a sulking mood. “Hey. Sup?” His foster nephew sighed flopping on the couch.

“I just need to stop caring about people…. Or start going to sleep by 10. But then I’d have to take my Adderall at like…. Five in the morning.”

“Guy troubles….?” Stiles shook his head.

“Scott? Hell no. In general- yes.” Sam tried to keep from smiling as he gave a sympathetic look.

“Want to talk about it?” Stiles looked at him for a minute completely silent.

“Is it bad if a guy you like gets caught sneaking into your room, sneaks out while you’re explaining it to your dad, who just had pointed a gun at him, leaves a note that says ‘Sorry for getting you in trouble’ and then doesn’t answer your texts…?” Sam open and closed his mouth like a fish out of water.

“Honestly…?” Stiles nodded not looking very hopeful. “Yes. The only options there are he’s freaked out, mad, scared, guilty, embarrassed, too busy to answer you, or hurt or dead.”

“I didn’t consider a few of those, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or scared…” Sam gave a soft sympathetic chuckle.

“I suggest both.” Sam smiled at Stiles. “That way you can’t regret not feeling one later.”

“I don’t know whether that’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard or the stupidest. Pretty sure it’s the first… Thanks, man.”

“No problem. So, you mad at Dean?” Stiles seemed to become a bit guarded. “I’m not going to report whatever you say back to him. I’d understand if you were. I just thought you might want to vent.”

“Nah… I get why he freaked. He might have said ’there’s a shotgun in your closet’ a bit loud on purpose. But I think Derek was gone by then anyway.” Sam nodded, and said a bit firmly.

“So why the research on lycanthropy?” Stiles tried staring Sam down, but after a full minute sighed. “Are you going to think I’m crazy?”

“I doubt you could imagine what it’d take to just surprise me.” Sam tried not to give Stiles any inkling of what he meant.

“Scott and I were out—“

“I know, Dean told me. Everything. What about it?”

“Scott swears it was a wolf or something, he says he heard a wolf howl. They found wolf fur on a body found that night, in that area. Well, half of a body. And since that bite, Scott’s been acting… weird. Doing impossible things. I told him, told him he needed to cancel his plans because tonight’s the full moon. I tried to make him cancel but he threw me into the wall and nearly punched me.” Sam sighed.

“Maybe he’s just stressed.” Sam didn’t particularly think it sounded like a werewolf, but he didn’t want to use those exact words.

“Sam, He knocked over my computer chair before he stormed off. You need to see it…” Sam gave a curious look and followed. The chair had three parallel cuts. Like those he and Dean often saw.

“Uh-huh, definitely not just stress…” Stiles sighed. “I’ll talk to Dean about it okay?”

“What?! No, no, no. He’s just going to worry and say I shouldn’t hang out with him. It’s fine. I’ll just keep an eye on him.” Sam stopped him from leaving the room.

“Stiles, I can’t let you follow your werewolf friend off to wherever. You have no idea what you’re getting into.” Stiles definitely seemed upset about Sam’s opposition.

“I know I’m trying to help my best friend. I know what I got from my research.”

“And if your research is bullshit?” Stiles looked speechless and pissed.

“Then, I go with my gut, act in the moment.”

“Stiles, I’m trying to help you out here. It’s a bad idea. You need to leave this for us to deal with.” Stiles threw up his hands.

“And what makes you so qualified?!” Sam crossed his arms.

“How’s about when Dean gets home you can present your case to him, and ask him if he wants you chasing around a werewolf?” Stiles looked as if he had run into a cage. Sam gave him a waiting look.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him about it when he gets back…” Stiles finally got by him and muttered “Dick…” as he got up and made his way toward the stairs. Sam rolled his eyes and called after the boy.

“I heard that ya know!”

“Yeah, well, maybe you were supposed to!” His foster nephew stormed up the stairs.

Teenagers are hard…..

Chapter Text

Stiles sat in the living room, dressed to go, waiting for Dean and Cas while watching TV, ready to quickly storm them get affirmation without giving the whole story and making a run for it before Sam could get a word to him. As soon as Dean opened the door, Stiles was in his path. “Hey, Dean. Can I go to this party tonight? Everyone is going, and I need to act as Scott’s wingman. Please?” Dean held up a hand to halt.

“Don’t bother, Sammy called me. You aren’t going anywhere but your room. You should know better than to try to snow me. Go.” Stiles gave a pouting look.

“But-!”

“That wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order! Go!” Damn it. Stiles turned a pleading look on Cas.

“Cas?” He put a deep whine on it. Cas gave a sympathetic look but didn’t help at all.

“We are only trying to protect you from danger Stiles. Dean may seem harsh now, but please have faith that he is only thinking of what is best for you. Go to your room.” Stiles huffed, stormed away up to his room and slammed his door before pacing. He quickly formulated a plan. He was 89% sure Cas would send Dean up in ten to fifteen minutes to check on him, or he’d come up himself. Either way he had a plan. He shut off the main lights and turned on a dim lamp before slipping into his bed. By the time he’d spent 10 minutes in silence, he could practically hear everything being said downstairs.

“Cas, I’m not going to check on him.”

“Why not?”

“Why? Because I already know he’s pissed, that’s why.”

“I’m not asking you to see if he’s pissed, I’m asking you to see if he’s okay.”

“Cas, trust a human on this…”

“No, Dean. If I have to check on him myself, we will not be sleeping together tonight.” Stiles snickered being practically able to hear Dean opening and closing his mouth like some fish. Stiles quickly mustered up a good fake crying sniffle and voice. Perfect… If he got this right those two might not bother him until morning. He got nervous as he heard Dean’s footsteps stamping up the stairs, but stuck with the plan. Dean walked up the hall and opened Stiles’ door.

“So, are you going to come down and have dinner, or just sit up here and sulk?” Stiles made a face of contempt regardless of whether or not Dean could see. 

“Just leave me alone! I hate you!!” He mustered with the fake sniffle and crying voice. Dean sighed audibly.

“Fine. Your food will be in the fridge when you final stop acting like a brat.” Dean probably didn’t mean to but he slammed the door. Stiles could hear Cas and Sam arguing with Dean about being so hard on him, but Stiles knew he was home free. If they came up to check on him he’d see it as a betrayal, and they wouldn’t betray him. He waited until Dean shouted at the persistent two. “Enough!! If he wants to brood all night, I’m gonna let him, and I expect you two to do that same!! Now, can we just go eat?!” Stiles got up and went to his window. He gently lowered himself down to the roof under it and jumped, trying to catch himself but tripping straight to his face. He ignored his misstep and scurried to his car, which he had parked far off on the curved driveway; He put it in neutral and pushed it until it was out of sight. Once he had he jumped in, started the jeep and drove off. He knew the party was at Lydia’s so all he had to do is go and have fun while keeping an eye on Scott.

Chapter Text

He got there at the beginning, which allowed very little crowd to hid in. So, of course he ran into the every beautiful Lydia Martin.

“Don’t I know you from… Somewhere?” Stiles fought off the urge to say Not at all, I’ve only had a crush on you since third fricking grade.

“Um, yeah. We’ve got to school together since like… second grade, maybe? I’m Scott’s friend, Stiles. Nice to see you.” Lydia looked like see was thinking for a minute.

“Scott as in Allison’s prospective boyfriend, right? So, he told you about the party?” Stiles faked a smile and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry if you didn’t want extra people. I could leave if you want. I’m not even really in the mood to have fun, I was just looking for Scott.” Lydia got a scheming look and it honestly scared him a little.

“Nonsense. Scott and Allison are going to be on a date… We’ll just have to cheer you up ourselves.” She abandoned whatever she was doing at the snack table to drag him out to the pool area. It wasn’t crowded yet but there were more people out there than there were in the house. She shoved a cup of punch at him and sipped from one herself. Where was that jerk, Jackson, when you needed him?

“So, sweetie. What’s got you down?”

“Um? Well, Plenty of stuff…” Lydia’s bored and searching face was intimidating like nothing he’d ever encountered.

“Specifics…” Stiles honestly didn’t want to talk to a girl about Derek. Especially not the girl he’s had a crush on since 3rd grade-especially not cold blooded Lydia Martin. “Spill. Girl problems? Boy problems? Drug dealer incommunicado?”

“Mix of the second and third…” She gave a fake sympathetic look.

“Drug dealer problems?” Stiles sighed.

“A guy is incommunicado. And he’s not my drug dealer, because I don’t do drugs. Except those I have a prescription for.” Lydia nodded and flicked her hand in a circle, telling him to go on. “Last night, my foster dad, Dean, caught him sneaking in-not to do anything, just to talk. He disappeared while I was explaining things to Dean. He left a note apologizing for getting me into trouble, but he hasn’t answered any of my texts since.”

“This isn’t Scott we’re talking about, is it?” Stiles went wide eyed and gaped.

“Scott?! God no!” She nodded, seeming to be entertained.

“Good.” Jackson started pulling her away as more guests were arriving but she shook her head seeming genuinely sympathetic. Then smiled, putting on her hostess routine. “Forget it and have fun. If he doesn’t text you by tomorrow, he’s not worth your time.” She gave a little wave and went off with Jackson.

Stiles tried to take her advice and he managed to mingle until he saw Scott stumbling through the crowd. He tried to stop ask him what was up but he just shook his head and kept walking. Stiles politely disengaged from his conversation with the other party guests and went in the direction Scott had gone. When he got to the door he saw Scott’s mom’s car quickly driving away, and Derek Talking to Allison and then leading her to the shiny black Camaro from the store. After holding the passenger side door open for Allison, Derek seemed preoccupied mentally. He walked quickly to the driver side door. If he saw Stiles watching from the door he didn’t make it obvious. Stiles quickly got in his car and went after Scott, putting Derek at the back of his mind. Once he arrived at Scott’s he let himself in and ran up to Scott’s room. He was in the bathroom; Stiles knocked. Of course he asked where Allison was and if she was okay, and Stiles told him she got a ride home from the party, trying to keep from sounding like a jealous ass."I know who it is now." Stiles nodded to full of worry to entertain worrying about who the werewolf was.

"Okay. Scott, Let me in so we can figure-" Stiles tried to open the door as he spoke but he was cut off by Scott's voice, now just behind the ajar door. It wouldn't open further but as if he was leaning into it attentively rather than keeping it from opening.

“It’s Derek, Stiles! He’s the werewolf! He attacked me in the wood and killed that woman!” Stiles was dumbstruck.

“Are you sure?”

“I saw him at the party! He ran up the roof!” Stiles shook his head, putting away his doubt.

“Scott- Derek drove Allison home.” There was quiet, and then the door slammed closed. Stiles pounded at the door but he heard the scrapping of a window opening. He ran to his car and started driving. But where to go? He couldn’t go home and tell Dean. He’d just put him up in his room. What use was it going after Derek? If he was the werewolf, there was nothing Stiles could do to help Scott. He started driving to Allison’s place. He’d tell her parents. Have them call the cops. He felt weird pulling up to the house. He barely knew their daughter and he had to tell them all this crazy sh- it wasn’t important now. He knocked quick and hard. A middle age woman with short hair dyed red answered. Her mother maybe? “Hi, Mrs. Argent. Um - You have no idea who I am. I’m a friend of Allison’s. Uh, from school. This is going to sound a little crazy. Actually, really crazy. You know what? Crazy doesn't even describe what i'm about to tell you but you’re gonna hav-“ She turned and called upstairs.

“Allison! You have a visitor!” What? Allison walked into view up on the stairs balcony. What?!

“Um, never mind. I’m sorry for bothering you.” Stiles quickly got back into the Jeep. All he could think was to go to the preserve. Stop Scott before he killed Derek. He took dirt roads deeper in, wanting to walk as little as possible. Once he couldn’t go any further he put it in park, turned off the car, and hopped out. He started running, calling for Scott in a hushed tone. Then he heard something. It sounded like a firecracker going off. He ran in the direct he heard the noise. Someone was pointing a crossbow at a tree nearby. Holy crap! Scott was pinned to the tree by an arrow through his arm. The guys with the guy ready to shoot Scott were pulled backward and Stiles took the chance to save Scott. He ran to him and broke the arrow; Scott quickly pulled his arm off it and Stiles quickly pulled him behind the tree before another arrow hit the tree. It blew up into a huge light, so bright it hurt Stiles’ eyes, but probably not half as much as Scott. Not a second after the light they were being pulled. But not out of hiding, deeper into the woods, toward the car.

“Come on!” Stiles looked up as he started to run. Derek was pulling them both away. He was helping them. They were both certainly faster, but Stiles wasn’t slow at all. He kept within a few feet of the two ahead. Derek kept looking behind to make sure he was still with them. Stiles was sure this whole situation would result in therapy. They were almost to the jeep when Derek took a final look back, but this time his eyes went wide and he grabbed Stiles and yanked him down. “Down!” Scott dropped down to the ground too. A bullet embedded itself in the front bumper of Stiles’ Jeep. It probably would have hit him directly in the back of the knee. Or more likely gone through his knee. That really helped him realize they needed to get the fuck out of there and quick. Apparently, Derek realized the severity of the situation as well, because he yanked them both up and pushed them quickly towards the Jeep. “Everyone in the car, now!” Derek hopped into the back and Scott and he quickly got in the front. They weren’t shooting again yet, but Stiles could see someone running closer through the trees for a better shot. He took the chance and put the car in reverse, getting out and back to the main road as quickly as physics would allow.

Chapter Text

Once they were driving for a while and Stiles’ pulse had gone down by a couple dozen beats, he broke the silence of the small vehicle. “Not that I’m saying I told you so, just next time I suggest you not go out, could you at least, I don’t know, change your plans to something a little calmer? Maybe Scrabble?” Scott glared at him weakly. “Not a good time to point out that you should listen to your voice of reason?”

“How is assuming I’m a werewolf reasonable at all?” Stiles scoffed.

“First off, I didn’t assume. I did my research after I had sufficient cause to see it as a possibility. Second, if something turns out to be right, it’s reasonable.” Scott glared more, not having any argument.

“Jerk…” Stiles glared at him lightly and huffed.

“Bitch.” Derek rolled his eyes, which Stiles could plainly see in the rear view mirror.

“You ladies done?” Scott turned to glare at Derek. Stiles wanted to, but was preoccupied with not wrecking his car.

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know maybe because, you turned me into a werewolf and got me chased by homicidal psychopaths?” Derek gave a fake laugh and glared.

“Not you, idiot. Him.” Scott looked at him out of the corner of his eye, which he saw out of the corner of his, but then went back to glaring at Derek.

“Maybe because he’s a good friend.” Derek rolled his eyes and gave Scott a condescending look.

“Shut up.” Derek looked at him. "I've saved your ass twice now. Why would you be mad at me?"

"Twice?"

"Passing out in the middle of the forest isn't very safe. Bleeding like you were, something would have nibbled on you."

"So you're the one who found me."

"Yes. So, why are you mad at me?" No more avoiding the question then…

“Why do you think I’m mad? I haven’t said a word to you…” Okay, Stiles would admit that sounded a bit pissy. But still not enough to assume he was mad about anything other the situation or Derek being a little bitchy.

“Well that’s part of it. You’re also radiating anger.” Stiles scoffed.

“Are you a psychic or a werewolf?”

“Heightened senses. Are you going to answer me?” Stiles shifted, a bit uncomfortable as he drove, not being able to emotionally engage in the conversation as much as he’d like.

“Not until you answer me.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Stiles glared into the rear view.

“Figure it out yourself. Where do I turn to take you home?” Derek seemed a bit upset in response.

“Fine… On the right about a mile up the road here there's a dirt road. You can drop me off on the main road, I’ll walk the rest of the way.” Stiles ignored him and turned onto the dirt road. Thankfully it mostly went straight back. Derek stopped after getting out and turned to Stiles, but he spoke as if speaking generally to both of them. “I’ll be in touch. See ya.” Stiles tried to keep from smiling but he did; not much but still. Stiles got back on the main road and Scott stared at him.

“Dude, What?” Scott gave a curious look.

“Why do I have the feeling I had no idea what was going on with you two?” Stiles made a fake I-don’t –know-what-you’re-talking-about face.

“What is that suppose to mean?”

“There's something I don’t know about going on between you and Derek. He knew you. He liked you.” Stiles turned to his friend swiftly.

"You really think he likes me?" Scott gave him a bitch face and he sighed “It’s a long story.”

“How long can it be? You met on- apparently Sunday… It’s barely Saturday morning.” Stiles took a second to think.

“Yeah, well it’s longer than Romeo and Juliet knew each other, and I haven’t slept with him, married him, and neither of us are dead yet. So, chill.” Stiles sighed. “We ran into each other yesterday in line at the supermarket. We got to talking. He gave me his number and helped me carry my groceries to car. And then we started flirting…” Stiles knew he sounded stupid but didn’t realize he had a goofy smile until Scott interrupted.

“Um, Stiles you do recall he bit me and probably killed a woman, right?” Stiles glared at him.

“Anyways, after I made and had dinner with the guys I texted him and he told me his sister died recently, and that he had had to bury her just this week. I asked if he wanted me to come over but he said it wasn’t a good idea because he’s staying at his family’s place. He asked if he could come over because he wanted to see me and I told him he could but he’d have to sneak in so it wouldn’t disturb the guys. So, he came in through my bedroom window but Dean must’ve seen him, because he busted my door open holding a god damn pistol. Derek was actually fairly calm about that. I explained the situation to Dean out in the hall and he understood. But when I went back in Derek was gone and he left a note saying sorry for getting me in trouble. That would be fine, but he hasn’t answered any of my texts since that. And that’s why I’m mad…” Scott had a thinking look on his face.

“You think maybe his sister was the girl in the woods??”

“Really? That’s what you got out of that whole thing?” Stiles sighed. “Well, if it was I doubt he did it. The way he talked about her, they were close.” Scott shrugged, seeming to drop it.

“So, you’re crushing on a psycho werewolf who attacked and bit me.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Scott, that was my exact motive in flirting with him. I knew he was a werewolf and that he bit you, I just thought it’d be funnier if it escalated to the point that I nearly got shot in the woods by crazy werewolf hunters. That is what goes on in my head during a trip to the grocery store.” Scott gave a short laugh and looked over.

“Can I crash in your room tonight? My mom has the night shift and I don’t want to go to bed in an empty house tonight.” Stiles sighed just finally calming a bit.

“Sure. Why not? Want to know something funny?” Scott looked at him waiting for said funny thing. “I final talked to Lydia.”

“No way! Really?” Stiles nodded laughing along with Scott.

“Yeah, but only because she insisted on interrogating me about Derek.”

“She saw Derek??”

“No. I went to the party looking for you and she intercepted me. Probably so I wouldn’t mess up your and Allison’s date. She made me tell her what was bothering me.” Scott sighed.

“Allison’s gonna hate me!”

“No she’s not.”

“How do you know?”

“Well I’m still swooning over that furry jerk... And he kind of messed up worse than you.” Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder. “Just be sure to apologize, dude. Or be just amazingly fucking adorable.” Scott rolled his eyes and punched Stiles in the shoulder.

Chapter Text

They pulled into the driveway and went in the house. Before he could think, Cas was looking him over seeming to be in a panic.

“You aren’t injured?” Crap. Stiles remembered he’d snuck out. And apparently they had found that out. Stiles grabbed Cas’ hands so he’d stop checking him for injuries.

“Cas, I’m fine. Sorry for sneaking out…” Cas hugged him. It was pretty stiff but seemed right since Cas was giving it.

“That is not important, Stiles. You were shot at.” Stiles was a little taken back by that. Dean stormed into the room.

“Damn it, kid! Are you some kind of stupid! I have been calling all over town looking for your ass!” Stiles held up his hand stopping him.

“How did you know I was shot at, Cas?”

“Dean got in touch with an associate in the area. He said he shot at a pack which included two young men of your and Scott’s height and build and may have been traveling in a blue jeep. We did the math.” “Associate?! The psycho that almost crippled me is your guys’ associate!? You realize how fucked up that is right?! That you have friends that actively try to shoot teenagers out in the woods! Jeez, no wonder you wouldn't let me go after Scott!”

“And I’m guessing Scott is the werewolf that got an arrow to the arm. You okay, Scott?” Scott nodded next to Stiles, not even seeming to care that he still didn’t have a shirt on.

“Yeah. Thanks for the concern.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. I’m just glad you didn’t tear Stiles’ heart out.”

“Well… I've tried not to on a daily basis since we were 12 so it’s not that hard to resist the urge anymore…” Dean didn't look amused and Scott shifted uncomfortable. "What I mean is, I really owe him. He tried to warn me, and not only did I not listen, I was a total jerk. And he came to have my back anyway, and ended up saving me. He's an amazing friend, I owe him my life, and I can't tell you how grateful or sorry I am that he got in trouble for me." Dean gave a hard sigh and slap on the shoulder.

"Well, I'm just glad you got him back here in one piece."

"Can Scott sleep over? His mom is working the night shift, and for obviously reasons he's too traumatized to go home and sleep in an empty house." Dean gave Stiles a stern look.

"I don't think so." Stiles gave a pout, and Scott piled on a puppy look of his own.

"Please??" Both asked, but Dean shook his head.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Stiles." Even Cas gave Dean a pleading look that rivaled Scott's. Sam came in the room, smiling when he saw Stiles.

"Hey, You found him! Whoa. What got you a puppy dog convention?" Dean sighed.

"They want Scott to stay over, and I said it's not a good idea." Sam shrugged.

"Well, better to have him where we can keep an eye on him."

"Yeah, but not in a bed with Stiles!" Scott gave a kicked puppy look. "Look, I don't mean..." Dean sighed again. "......You're keeping the door open." Scott brightened and quickly seized Dean in a hug, making the hunter jump. "Oh. N-uh. Okay, yeah... Of course he's a hugger. Are all freaking werewolves huggers?" Stiles scoffed.

"I wish..." He murmured under his breath. Dean narrowed his eyes, tightening the arm around Scott to a vice, which seemed to please Scott, thinking it was just a hug in return.

"What was that Stiles?" Stiles looked up and fidgeted.

"Hm? Oh, nothing..." Dean gave an 'I know something is up' glare and let Scott go.

"Have you eaten Scott?" Cas asked with a smile. Scott blushed and shook his head. "The leftovers of dinner are still out, if you'd like..."

"Thank you, Cas, that'd be great..." Scott followed Cas, and Sam followed them. Dean stopped Stiles as he went to follow.

"You ain't gettin' off that easy, kid. I concede that Scott isn't unstable or anything, at least not tonight. Who were you two runnin' with?" Stiles shifted his weight defensively.

"What does it matter?"

"I ask you, you answer, that's how it matters. Someone from school? He was bigger than you both. Was it an adult you know?"

"No! God, really? Can't we just drop this for tonight? Why do you even care? Wait..." Stiles fixed Dean with a look. "No way. You're like one of those freaks from the woods, a werewolf hunter?" Dean sighed and rolled his eyes.

"We don't specialize in any one creature. We're not werewolf hunters. Just Hunters." Stiles gaped.

"Sam and Cas too then...?"

"Sam, but not Cas."

"What's Cas?" Dean sighed again.

"The pretty guy in the kitchen." Stiles glared.

"He knows. If he's not one of you, how does he know?" Dean quirked an eyebrow.

"Tell me who the other wolf was and I'll tell you." Stiles huffed.

"It's not my place to say..."

"And it's mine?"

"You asked first!"

"Exactly, so you should answer me first." Stiles smirked.

"I don't care as much." Dean crossed his arms.

"I have authority over you."

"I have free will, and tying me up would be a crime." Dean paused a moment.

"I could torture you without leaving a mark." Stiles gaped at Dean.

"Dean, do not threaten the child!" Cas called from the kitchen. Stiles took the moment's distraction to duck passed and hurry to the kitchen to stick close to Cas. Whatever he was had to be safer than Vlad the Impaler over there. Cas shook his head and patted Stiles' cheek. "Do not fear, Stiles. Dean was just trying to scare you. He would not hurt you, nor would I allow him to." Stiles nodded but still stuck close.

Once they'd eaten Stiles and Scott sat in the living room watching the Daily Show as the guys talked in the kitchen. Scott had tensed up a few times, but hadn't gotten too upset. The last nine minutes the Three came in and Dean tapped the back of his head. He smiled up. "Yes, Jethro?" Dean scoffed.

"That Gibbs to you, boy. You've got ten 'til lights out. We're going up now, but we'll have our door open so, I'll be watching for you two to come up." Stiles nodded.

"Kay, we'll be up. Sweet Dreams."

"Sweet dreams. Check your window." Stiles nodded again as Dean headed up and Sam followed. Cas hugged him from behind and set a hand on Scott's shoulder before going as well. Soon enough Stiles was bounding up to his room, leaving Scott to follow slowly. Stiles was already in his room as Scott got stopped after turning down the hallway. Dean stepped out, putting his hand on Scott's shoulder. "Hey Scott."

"Hey, Dean..." Scott said, worry evident in his voice.

"I just want to make sure we were clear on one thing: If you were to hurt or say... defile Stiles in any way tonight, how do you think that would work out for you?" Scott gave a confused look up at the man.

"Not well, Sir...?" Dean smiled and nodded.

"I would have you for breakfast. Am I understood?" Scott nodded, a bit scared at the very serious tone.

"Yes, Sir. I'd never hurt Stiles." Finally Dean gave a real smile and clapped a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Great. Remember to leave that door open." With that Scott nodded, hurrying down the hall with a small whimper. He dove into the bed, first thing. Stiles pulled him up, when kicking him out failed.

"Scott, change or you're sleeping on the floor." After five minutes of talking Scott out of sleeping on the floor and another two of them both changing, they finally both wriggled into bed, back to back. "Love you, man." Stiles murmured softly toward sleep.

"Love you too, Stiles. See you in the..." With a yawn they were both fast asleep. As always with in the 20 minutes that passed before Dean checked in, the two were facing each other, heads on a single pillow cuddled between them and their legs as tangled around each others' as their arms were around the pillow. Dean obviously took pictures.

Chapter Text

Dean was woken not by a sound, which he'd maintained a half sleep half the night to listen for, but by a smell. A few smells really. He enjoyed picking out what they were in his half asleep morning haze. Waffles with maple syrup. Bacon- no. Sausage links. Something that smelled like it was cooked with oil. Fresh laundry. Shower mist. And of course, that coconut shampoo that Dean loved for Cas to use... "Mmmm...." Dean opened his eyes and looked over to Cas' side on the bed. His angel was laid out on his side, watching him with soft, playful, loving eyes; hair still shiningly damp, and still in a fluffy white towel. He smiled to see Dean awake. "Hey, Cas..."

"Good morning, Dean..." Cas squirmed closer and propped himself up on his elbow to kiss Dean's cheek. Dean took the chance to nip Cas' neck.

"It certainly is... Sammy making breakfast for the boys??" Cas peered down at his hunter, then Dean could feel the angel tinkering with the silk tie of his fleece pajama pants.

"Sam has taken the boys out for a while to see the town. But I have made you quite the meal... It's quite well made, if I may be so proud..." Cas tapped something with his fingers, and Dean finally looked down his body to see the Breakfast in Bed tray straddling his lap. He smiled and kissed Cas graciously.

"You are too sweet..." Cas shook his head.

"I'm merely showing my gratitude, Dean." Dean stretched, giving a happy groan.

"Why have I done to deserve such an honor as Castiel's Gratitude?" Cas gave a small chuckle.

"Being so lenient... So soft handed and easy tempered..." Dean scoffed.

"Oh, come on. How?"

"I expected you to really 'lay into' Stiles last night..." Dean groaned in mock shame.

"I threatened to torture him just to wipe a cocky look of his face." Cas chuckled again, tracing circles into Dean's chest with his finger.

"There was a time when you would've killed that boy the second you found out he was a werewolf..." Dean sighed.

"I still might have to, Cas..." Castiel kissed his lips, shutting him up.

"But you haven't... And you most likely won't... And you're in the same way soft handed in the face of Stiles disobedience..." Dean closed his eyes again, letting himself relax. He gave a soft scoff.

"He's grounded from going out after dark. I mean it. I'll nail his window shut and give his Jeep flats."

"Because you're worried though..." Cas smiled. "Not truly as punishment." Dean rolled his eyes and sat up.

"I can't talk this much on an empty stomach." The something cooked in oil was hash browns. Dean loved Cas' hash browns. He'd had a lot of hash browns at lots of diners. None could compare to Cas'. It was really the only thing Cas didn't burn. At diners you could never get them thoroughly cooked and if you send them back, they'd come out not much better and greasy. Cas' were perfect. Dean even groaned on the first bite. Could this morning get any better? "You've gotta tell me your secret..." Cas grinned wickedly, moving to sit behind him. The angel put some "snake oil" on his hands and started rubbing Dean's shoulders. He knew it wasn't really oil from snakes, but it still creeped him out. Even the name was creepy. But Cas insisted it had major positive health effects, and it did make him feel great, so Dean let his hostility toward it go.

"Never. Don't even try asking the boys. I have them sworn to secrecy as well..." Dean flat out moaned. It wasn't his fault. Cas hit that awesome place on his back just as he took a mouthful of waffle, which turned out to be chocolate chipped.

"Oh, my... Cas, I owe you, so huge. This is amazing." Cas smiled.

"You don't. I'm proud of you... Your happiness is all the reward I need." Cas waited until Dean had finished his meal to lean forward and bite the nape of the hunter's neck, causing Dean to gasp before chortling in surprise.

"Cas, what the..." Dean turned to see Cas holding up Dean's favorite furred cuffs and gave a grin, turning to press Castiel down on the bed. Cas shook his head before flipping the two of them.

"These aren't for me today, Dean...." Dean couldn't help a smile of anticipation from gracing his face.

"Oh, yeah?" Cas smiled and nodded, attaching them to one of the hunters wrists.

"M-hm...."

Chapter Text

"Hey, Sam, Do you think we could stop at the cemetery first?" Stiles tried to sound casual as he stared out the window, but he could feel Sam's eyes on him.

"Uh, yeah sure. You want to stop and get some flowers first??" Stiles shook his head, dreading Sam's cautious tone.

"There's a shop next to the Cemetery..." Scott put a hand on his shoulder and Stiles patted his hand, looking back to give a reassuring smile before returning to talk to Sam. "The owner gives me freebies at this point."

"Stiles, have you always had a dry kinda dark sense of humor, or should I be worried....?" Sam asked, masking his concern with a casual smile.

"Mostly yeah. The Dark part often involves death, danger, and mayhem. Or you know, assholes and my impending endless virginity. So yeah, it's fairly normal." Sam nodded, still worried about Stiles' mood but allowing him to cope as he pleased. "But I wasn't joking. I'm seriously pretty tight with the guy at this point. I've been going for a long time. Even before my dad died he gave me free flowers sometimes. He's a really nice older guy. Funny. Partially senile I think..."

"That's.... Nice, Stiles..." They came up on a small flower shop just short of the cemetery. Stiles pointed to the small empty parking lot.

"You can just pull in there." Sam did so, pulling into a random space. Stiles hopped out as if at home. Scott and Sam Climbed out semi-casual-awkward, like one normally would when at a store. When they got through the door, Sam was shocked at what he saw. Death. Literally. Sympathetically smiling at Stiles, hand on his shoulder. Then Stiles says something witty and he laughs. And as Sam walks closer he can hear Death speak.

"Ah, Stiles, you so very much remind me of my grandson. I've never had a grandson you know? So, quite the treasure you are." In that posh voice, like Irish cream. Stiles smiled genuinely, wide meeting his eyes, and toothy, with a small giggle beneath it.

"Yeah, so you've said. But stop about me. How're you holding up? Shop doing well?" Death shrugged and turned (back) to some planted flowers.

"Death is business sadly." Death said without hesitation or feeling. "You're not here just to see little old me, I assume. What can I get you today, my boy?" Stiles shrugged.

"What do you have, boss?" Death turned his attention to Stiles again.

"Well, I've gotten a shipment of signet marigolds; I have an order of Calla Lilies a customer no longer wants; I was just out yesterday picking some buttercups, they always end up withering away on my counter; I just acquired a Oleander plant but I'd prefer to sell it as a plant rather than just a bouquet." Stiles thought on it a bit, but decided to just accept the buttercups, knowing the man would give him his flowers free and that the other options could make the old man quite a bit of money. But he didn't have a chance to voice his decision. "Oh, how could I forget? Never mind any of those. I came across something you'd love. It was growing right along the side of the building out in the shade. Come." Death seemed to finally note Sam's presence but just motioned for him and Scott to follow as well. Again when Sam entered Death was already talking with Stiles. "-weed so it's not much sought after, but it's very famous. It's a variation of Nightshade known as Bittersweet, Bittersweet Nightshade, or Blue Bindweed." Stiles cut in.

"It's harmful to werewolves isn't it...? Supposedly, you know if they exist. According to lore?" Death seemed careful not to shift his gaze to Sam or Scott.

"The only definitive affect it has on them, according to lore, is that they can not trespass against it. And that it's cousin 'Deadly Nightshade' or Atropa Belladonna, is said to be able to kill humans and werewolves alike with the digestion of a single leaf. This little lovely could only make you sick unless you ate a lot of it, although they're said to have the same protective qualities. It doesn't ward, it only keeps away those that mean harm, according to most lore. It is said to allow for communication with the dead, and is connected to the Greek messenger god Hermes, and is said to give protection from evil or ill will being a flower of the goddess of witchcraft Hecate... It also has medicinal properties, except for the berries- other than a purgative that is." Stiles was fascinated by both the explanation of the plant and the convenience of its discovery. "I transplanted a few of the plants, although no one will likely want them. I also snipped a few for you, figuring you'd like them to leave for your parents..." Stiles nodded and accepted the two branches, mindful of the beautiful flowers, still staring at one of the potted plants, now tied to a trellis.

"Thanks, but uh, would you mind if I bought the plant when we come back from the cemetery?" Death seemed to think about it, only for a moment, barely paying Sam a glance.

"No, of course not."

"That'll be like ten fifteen bucks, including the pot, right?" Death shook his head.

"It's a weed, the pot is cheap plastic, for me to charge you that much would be absurd." Stiles smiled.

"It seems fair to me, but hey, you can put the rest on my tab, huh?"Death shook his head, before nodding and shooing the boys out of the back room.

"Yes, yes, now go on. Quit dillydallying. Your father always hates it when you get held up with mindless conversations, now won't be any different. Say hello for me." Stiles patted Death's arm before heading for the door with Scott. Sam stayed in the shop.

"Uh, you two go on ahead. I'll catch up, I want to ask about those buttercups..." The boys left and Sam turned to Death and nodded awkwardly. "Hey, I guess... But um... What exactly are you doing here?"

"I've had this shop for years... This is the longest I've been up without serious business. Did you boys think I just sit in some corner until I was needed? I get bored too. I enjoy flowers. It's good business. I'm the one who should be asking about your presence." Sam nodded, conceding that the explanation did indeed make sense.

"Uh, Dean- and Cas, they moved into town just a week ago. They arranged to adopt Stiles after his father passed. I came to help them get settled, mostly to get out of the bunk- uh, house..." Death gave him a look.

"And how are your 'roommates'? Drive you mad yet?"

"You're aware of my living situation??" Death smirked at him.

"Aware? 'Satan's vessel living with the old Devil and the new Devil': I'm waiting for you to sell the film rights for a sitcom. Some reapers were making bets on how long you'd last." Sam sighed and rubbed his face.

"I don't suppose you know how to sedate archangels and demons...?" Death raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"I've never had the need. If I had to guess, I'd say roofie them with each others' blood, but that could have very negative side effects. With Lucifer, flirting would probably suitably disarm him, but that would most likely just egg Crowley on. I suggest just salting and putting angel warding sigils in your room whenever you need some alone time." Sam sighed, sounding annoyed.

"Oh, trust me, I have..." Death laughed.

"I'm sure the boys are waiting for you." Sam sighed but nodded and gestured to the buttercups. Death took them from their vase and made two bouquets, each with paper wraps tight around the stems.

"That's ten." Sam gave a stunned look.

"Dollars?! I thought you said no one would buy them!?" Death smirked.

"Because they're ten dollars..."

"That's obscene!!"

"How else did you think I did well enough to allow freebies to my favorite clients?" Sam huffed angrily but took out his wallet and paid the man. When he came out the boys started walking just on the other side of the fence. The fence with, Sam discovered, a locked gate... He decided to just jump it, as he assumed the boys had and caught up, avoiding walking on any graves. Stiles accidentally bumped into a young kid (their age, Sam noted) that seemed to work there, not be visiting. Stiles turned, a gentle hand on the other kid's shoulder making sure he hadn't knocked the boy off balance.

"Sorry, uh...." Stiles snapped his fingers and pointed, wagging his finger. The universal sign of 'I'm so sorry, I know your name, I swear, just give me a second.'

"Isaac." Stiles gave a sheepish smile and patted his shoulder softly as Scott started pulling him backwards.

"Right, Sorry, man." Isaac nodded. Sam noted three things. A- He was pretty sure the kid was in a permanent state of not okay. Probably abuse Sam thought. B- The kid definitely checked out Scott. C- The kid was half used to Stiles' awkwardness, judging by how he shook his head once Stiles had turned away, implying Stiles probably had a reputation, either in the town or in his school. All fairly pointless observations. Except maybe the first.

"You know him?" Sam asked as they walked. Stiles shrugged kinda. "From here?" Stiles shook his head.

"Uh, no, school. He goes to school with us, I think. Seen him around." Scott rolled his eyes.

"Yes, he does go to school with us. Actually I'm pretty sure he's on the team." Stiles now rolled his eyes back at Scott's attitude. The way they argued, Sam wasn't surprised Dean was worried.

"Ya know, I'm pretty sure he was checking you out. I can get you his number if you want." Scott whipped his head to give Stiles a look.

"What!? NO! I like Allison! I don't want anyone else's number!" Stiles held his hands up jokingly in surrender, a smirk on his face.

"I'm just saying, if it doesn't work out, I'm here to point out your options." Scott huffed and crossed his arms, but speaking in a slight, dog-like, pining whine.

"I don't want options, I want Allison...." Stiles gave a small laugh, and threw an arm around Scott's shoulder.

"I know, buddy. I know." They got to the graves and Scott hung back, leaning against a tombstone. There was a medium sized, short, grave marker/tombstone where Stiles' mother was buried. Sam shamed himself for noting she wasn't cremated. Her grave marker was 1'x 8", raised a foot from behind but only a half in the front, presenting her name, life span, and an inscription that Sam was too used to being in a cemetery to think to read on a 10"x1' placard naturally made by its shape. Off the bottom right corner, slightly over where the grave would've been dug, was a granite slab, with a steel plaque bolted to it, and a safe built into it. Sam must have had a questioning look, because Stiles explained. "My Dad got cremated... He had wanted to be buried with my mom, So the force got the cemetery to agree to this and paid for it. I think he'd probably love it. You know, accept the being dead thing... And the fact that somebody keeps stealing their flowers." Stiles having said all the stones and remains he had wished to, led the two off, waiting for Sam to place his own bouquets down and tell the stones they raised a sweet kid, and that he'd be sure his brother didn't screw him up.

None noticed anyone watching them go from the tree line.

Chapter Text

.~.you'rejustanassholewithatemper.~.

Stiles spotted Isaac as they walked back and started the trek to the guy. The case of the disappearing flowers was really pissing him off and if he was just being a dick about the cemetery cleaning up, he wanted to know. "Isaac! Hey! Hey, Isaac! Hold up a second, man!" Stiles' calls finally reached Isaac's ears. The other teen scanned the area, features relaxing slightly when he found Stiles making his way across what of the graveyard was between them. Stiles closed the last 20 or so feet and gave him a nod.

"Hey uh- Stiles... Right?? What's up?" Stiles gave a nod and gave his best wondering voice.

"Hey, You don't pick up old flowers or anything, right??"

"Um, no I never do, unless their like rotting and my dad told me to. But I can count on one hand the number of times that has happened. They usually just dry up. I can't see my dad doing that, but I wouldn't really know-" Isaac's dad clapped a hand onto Isaac's shoulder, surprising both of them. Stiles definitely noticed the way Isaac jumped. He tried not to glare or at the very least not sneer at the man. Isaac reacted to his father's harsh pat as Scott had sometimes when they were young and his father would yell. Isaac seemed like a sensitive kid, but Stiles knew he didn't like Isaac's father, even having only observed his mannerisms on a few occasions. When he wasn't face to face with someone, he had a deep hateful mean sneer, and when he was face to face with you, he was just a seven layered dip of 'fake asshole'.

"I'm sure you wouldn't, son. Who's this, friend of yours?" The man asked, sickly sweet smile. Isaac mouth kind of stuttered for a few seconds, so Stiles spoke up, trying to keep his detest out of his throat as much as possible.

"Yeah, kinda; we're on the lacrosse team together." If voices could hold glares, Stiles' did. And then his eyes did, noticing Mr. Lahey look him up and down skeptically.

"Uh-huh, and what can we do for ya, son?" Stiles straightened up a bit, momentarily unable to hide his upset.

"Don't call me son." Stiles replied firm and quick. Not an angry bite but not leaving room for opposition. He added after a moment to enjoy the pissed look on the man's face, still firm. "Please." I'd like to see you try to hit me, you arrogant coward. Stiles gave a calm breath. "I was asking if you guys have started to pick up old flowers. Twice now the flowers I've left for my parents have gone missing. It's not a problem, I was just wondering if it was just a grounds keeping thing." The anger on the old man's face calmed when he said 'parents', and he just shook his head, but didn't raise his smile or give his cheery voice again.

"No, sorry. We'll be sure to contact you if we notice any suspicious activity."

"Right, thanks, Bye..." Stiles gave Isaac's arm a soft nudge. "See you at school, Isaac."

"Sorry about your dad, by the way... Hope you're doing okay." Mr. Lahey offered as Stiles moved to walk off. Stiles turned to give a small look to the man.

"Oh, don't worry about me. Still have a lot of my dad's old coworkers as friends... to help me through it." Stiles' point seemed to get across, because the man looked shaken, and for the first time Stiles had ever seen Lahey was gentle, not at all harsh, with his son. He gave his son a soft pat as if he'd never see him again, his voice a soft rumble, as if Stiles had made a direct threat on their lives.

"Isaac, go back to the counter for me..." Isaac was startled and momentarily shaken, trying to figure out if he should be scared (of his father Stiles noted mentally) but decided to just nod and run off to the small hut/shack/cabin/whatever off the gate of the cemetery, as he was told. Stiles gave a look that said 'Yeah, maybe you should think about how much you care about having him the next time you think about treating him like shit...' Stiles didn't realize how fast his pulse was until he was clutching the fabric of Scott's hoodie as Lahey watched them walked off. Of course Scott was too dense to see what was happening, but Stiles knew Sam knew as well as he when Sam put a large hand on his back, on his shoulder blade. It was more protective than anything; Sam didn't rush Stiles (who was dragging Scott, who was trying to walk at a casual pace), and he looked over his shoulder to make sure Lahey was staying where he was. They were both calmed down by the time they got back to the fence by the store. Stiles hurried ahead to duck inside and get his new plant. When he hopped into the car an interesting question popped into Sam's head.

"Hey, Stiles? What's your shop owner friend's name??" Stiles face didn't give any hint of knowing when he said:

"Mors." Sam nodded, casually.

"That's an interesting name..." Stiles nodded. "What's it mean?" Stiles shrugged now.

"It's Norwegian for 'mother'. He said it's a family name." Sam just nodded, swallowing his snickering.

Once they'd gotten to the ice cream place, it was cloudy so Stiles just left the plant on his seat so it would get the softened sunlight. But of course by the time they'd ordered and got to a booth, the sun was out and harsh. Stiles gave a sigh. "I'm gonna go move that before it burns to death, I'll be back." Stiles licked the ice cream that had started to melt as soon as it had been scooped. But God was it worth it. He continued until he got to the car and made quick work of moving it to the shaded backseat. Once he'd closed his door he turned back to the ice cream parlor, while taking a lick of the ice cream only to hit his nose with it in shock, which made the man leaning against the wall beside the front door smile.

He gave a little wave. Stiles just wiped his nose while trying to simultaneously hide his blush.

"Did you follow us here?!"

Derek gave a nonchalant shrug, still smiling. He checked out Stiles shortly, smile turning into a smirk. Stiles could have died, right there.

"So, first you ignore my texts and now you're stalking me. Has anyone ever told you you're bipolar?"

Derek made a thinking look, as if actually going over all the things people had called him. It surprised Stiles a little when he talked, but Stiles gave a hard swallow at the rich soft timbre of his voice, like velvet.

"My third grade teacher..." Stiles tried to think about how that could possibly come up but shook his head, realizing he didn't care enough about knowing the context as much as he was sure it would fuck his mind. He walked forward, but stopped just short of arms reach and leaned back to lean against the hood of the car.

"You know, stalking your underage potential chew toy to a family ice cream outing isn't really a prime example of a good idea when werewolf hunters are trying to track you down... It's also a bit creepy." Derek took the final step to allow them to share personal space, and Stiles didn't really mind looking up at him so they could be that close. Derek still smirked, looking at Stiles as if prey. In a playful way.

"I'm hurt that you think we aren't to 'chew toy' status yet." Stiles smiled bashfully.

"This early?? You'd have to get a bottle of Jack into me first..." Derek laughed softly, letting his teeth show a bit.

"Well, I do kind of owe you one, but seeing as you're underage, as you mentioned..." Stiles laughed the same way.

"Uh-huh, that would be very... impish of you..." Stiles glanced through the glass door to Sam, who was watching them cautiously. "You should come in... I'm sure Sam would love to meet the infamous guy crawling through my window at night. Tell me, is it less awkward if my foster uncle threatens you first, or should we just give Dean the honor?" Derek looked to Sam and lost his smile for a second before smirking back at Stiles.

"As great as that agonizing torture sounds," He tapped Stiles' knee with a finger. "I actually showed my face to tell you I'm going to be busy for the rest of the day. I'll try to text you tomorrow, at some point. Maybe I could come by...?" Stiles shook his head.

"Scott is staying the weekend, and we always sleep together." Derek quirked an eyebrow at that.

"Should I be jealous?" Stiles gave an amorous smirk at that.

"Oh, god, yes... That'd be even hotter than the stalking thing..." Derek caught that Scott was watching and gave a smirk. He leaned in and gifted Stiles with a small peck, only half on the mouth, more on the corner. When Stiles opened his eyes again, Derek was gone. He sighed at the inevitable loss of that sexy feeling as he slurped the melted ice cream that was about to run down his cone before going back in. If there was a spring in his step he'd never admit it. He sat down only for Scott to give him a hard shove that would've made him slip off the seat of the leather booth, if Scott hadn't quickly grabbed his arm.

"Crap, sorry..." he muttered before just shoving him again once he'd gotten back into his seat, although not as hard. "What wrong with you?!" Stiles rubbed his shoulder and growled back in a whisper.

"Virginity, Scott, that is what's wrong with me; which I am trying to remedy, much to your apparent girlfriend having disapproval!!" Scott gave a bit of a puppy face as he argued back.

"But- he- You said yourself he's creepy!" Scott whined, knowing he can't give any other reasons in front of Sam.

"I said the stalking me thing was creepy, which I also said was hot." Sam just covered his face with his hand as a woman moved her children to put a booth between them. "And I'd like to point out, it's not half as creepy as you eavesdropping on me flirting!" Scott scoffed.

"If that's flirting I'd hate to know your idea of a date!"

"We'll it wouldn't be ditching him in the middle of a party!" Scott gaped at Stiles.

"You're such a bitch!" He hissed under his breath.

"And you're a jerk." Stiles bit back. Scott glared at him.

"Yeah, well, you're a dick." Scott muttered and went back to picking at his small sundae.

"And you're an asshole. That's why we work best together." Stiles smirked as Scott tried to laugh silently. Even Sam gave a snicker.

"You guys realize you're in an ice cream parlor... with children." Stiles nodded.

"That's why Scott keeps whispering like an idiot. Children have ears too Scott." Scott glared and shoved Stiles again.

"Shut up and eat your ice cream..." Stiles snickered.

"So, that's the guy?" Stiles nodded at Sam's question.

"I told him to come say hi, but it's a bit soon for you guys to start threatening him." Sam quirked an eyebrow.

"Why do you think I would've threatened him?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Oh, your nod may have said 'hi buddy' but the glare in your eye said 'try anything and I will kill you'." Sam scoffed lightly.

"Okay, but I wouldn't have threatened to kill him or anything..." Stiles nodded eating his ice cream.

"I'm sure, that seems more like Dean's thing." Stiles took another big lick of his ice cream. "But he said he was busy anyway. It's a shame." Once they'd all finished eating, they made the awkward walk to the car. The drive home was fairly comfortable.

"I don't know why I have to sit back here with your stupid, creepy plant..." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Is the nightshade making you uncomfortable Scotty?" Scott huffed, sitting pressed to the door.

"No..." Stiles nodded.

"Right, then stop brooding. It's not going to bite you." Scott glared at the plant.

"You don't know that for sure. He said it's supposed to ward off werewolves."

"He said it'd ward off, OR calm, aggressive werewolves. We don't even know if it'll work for that. Do you plan on being aggressive?" Scott shook his head. "Then don't worry about her, okay?"

"Her? What, are you going to name it too?"

"Her name is Lydie." Scott rolled his eyes.

"Why? You like Derek now."

"Because she's beautiful and perfect and awesome just like Lydia. And liking Derek doesn't make me dead. Lydia is my pedestal girl. Perfect in every way and way out of my league." Scott gave him a look. "Not that Derek isn't out of my league, or perfect... He's just interested in me. Thus the difference..." Sam smiled, happy that somehow the Winchesters were semi-normal for once.

Chapter Text

*Don't do this thing!!! Thing is not good!!!!

.~.knockingmyselfoutwouldbeapleasure.~.

Scott got out of the Car as soon as they pulled up to the house. Stiles got out just after, and followed Scott, carrying the plant. Sam followed not far behind, so he was surprised when he ran into Stiles, who stopped just a few feet into the house. He held Stiles' shoulders to insure the boy was standing stably before he looked into the family area to see what the two had stopped for. Lucifer kneeled on a chair looking over the back at the boys.

"Crowley, look, Dean and Cas did get a kid! Aw, it has hair and a face and everything..." He looked to Crowley who was sitting on the couch. "We should get one!" Crowley shrugged.

"Don't look at me. Moose's the human one, ask him." Lucifer turned back to look at Sam giddily.

"Please, can we make one Sammy!? It'll be fun. You already have a mom car anyway." Sam made a confused face.

"What? No! First of all, that's not how reproduction works. Second, you aren't going to make it work in any way, shape, or form, so get that out of both of your heads right now. Third, you can't just 'have' a fully grown child, you have to raise it, and you kind of have to like humans to raise one. Fourth, no one would allow us to adopt a child, including me. That just screams bad idea. Fifth, it is not a mom car! Lastly, how did the two of you manage to break in?" Lucifer gave a 'Come on Sammy' look and sat back down in his seat.

"We missed you and were bored. It was either kill each other or stalk you." Stiles put the plant on the stairs then sat on them, only for Scott to cautiously follow.

"I assume you know these guys then?" Stiles asked semi-casually. Crowley answered the boy instead of Sam.

"Spot on deduction, Sherlock, be sure to make yourself a medal..." He grumbled it into his coffee but Stiles looked to Sam.

"I was trying to be tactful, but since I'm the only one: What's the deal with you and the sociopaths?" Sam sighed.

"Stiles, Scott, These are my roommates Crowley, and Lucif- uh, Luci, who Dean mentioned." Stiles nodded but Lucifer piped up.

"Dean mentioned me?? How nice. He and Cas seem to be doing well, By the way." Sam shot him a suspicious look.

"Are they doing well while alive?" Lucifer gave a small chuckle and Crowley answered.

"M-hm... A tad more than usual actually..." Sam gave a half suspicious, half confused look, so Lucifer clarified.

"They've got an HBO type thing going on upstairs." Stiles made a noise. "Sammy, if he's allowed to defile my baby brother, I should be allowed to defile his." Sam took a small step away from Lucifer at this point.

"Yeah, well, you see the difference there is your little brother is willing. His is not..." Lucifer gave a pout.

"I could get you to say yes."

"No."

"That's so unfair, Sammy!"

"Tough." Lucifer pulled his legs up and just made a sulking face at the wall. "I suppose you won't talk to me now?" Lucifer turned his head 90 degrees to look as much away from Sam as he could, same look still on his face. "And I guess I should take this to mean that you refuse to leave?" Lucifer put his head back to look up at the ceiling. "Right..." Sam went over to Crowley's side of the coffee table and started fixing up the mess the two had made of the magazines and to pick up their garbage and plates. "So, why are you here Crowley? You usually do fine with not having me around.- Stop. Looking. Where I know. You're looking." Sam turned holding the two foam plates to see Crowley rolling his eyes. He gave a small exasperated sigh. "Nice to know I have at least one of you trained..."

"Actually, I'm quite glad not to be around you for a while every now and again, Moose. But I don't enjoy being home alone, and I couldn't talk Lucifer out of a paper bag, so here I am- partner in crime." Stiles looked at Sam as he stopped in his stride to the kitchen. Crowley smirked into his coffee cup. "Oops..." Stiles raised both eyebrows.

"You live with someone named-- no, no. You KNOW someone named Lucifer?" Stiles looked to Lucifer now. "Were your parents hardcore Satanists or something?" Lucifer threw his head back against the seat, failing at holding in laughter. Crowley even smirked... Stiles looked back to Sam. "I feel like your real name is probably Aziraphale and I'm having a dream because I fell asleep reading..." Crowley chuckled now.

"Not quite, but close. If you'd like me to sign though, I always love a fan." Stiles looked from Crowley to Sam, Not understanding.

"Oh, you really were the inspiration for that?" Lucifer broke his silence to ask. "The author one of yours?"

"Not a demon, but an associate of mine." Lucifer raised an eyebrow.

"Not a Pagan, I hope...." Crowley shook his head.

"But I'd never kiss and tell, love."

"Wait, just wait. Demon? Pagan? Sam, what the hell's going on?" Lucifer rolled his eyes.

"Ugh, I'm Lucifer- Yes, the one that pops to mind. Crowley here is Acting and Current Devil. By 'Pagan' I mean a pagan god. I'm not fond of those."

"Why not??" Scott asked as Stiles just gaped not knowing what to say.

"Because they're vile, vain, petty, little, parasitic wastes of life, who use the little power they have to enslave the powerless, and are ultimately worse than human kind." Scott mulled that over a second before just nodding.

"Well, they do kinda sound like jerks." Lucifer just stared at Scott a second before looking to Crowley.

"I almost don't want to kill him. What's happening and how do I stop it?" Crowley sighed.

"That's because he's pleasant. Like a baby dog. Usually they'll stop paying you mind if you give them something soft and furry to teethe on. Usually it helps if it's roundish." Sam tried to correct Crowley and tell Lucifer it was an analogy, and that teenagers didn't chew on soft furry things, even if they did have the disposition of a puppy, but he'd disappeared. He looked at Crowley, exasperated and pissed.

"Why the hell would you tell him that? You know he knows about as much about people as Cas used to!"

"So he'll bring home a dog toy. What's the harm-" Sam growled.

"No, you know what? Shut up. You're not allowed to talk anymore. If you do, I'm gonna cut out your tongue and I won't give it back! And if he brings anything bloody back, you're getting rid of it!" Crowley looked slightly perturbed by the outburst.

"You wou-"

"Ah! NOT A WORD." Crowley wanted to argue, but decided it was best to let Sam calm down and go back to reading. Sam turned to the boys to see how they were dealing with the information, only to see Stiles staring at Lucifer's chair kind of befuddled.

"He disappeared..." Sam nodded in response and tried to speak as gently as possible.

"Yeah... Yeah, he did. Are we dealing with that alright..?" Stiles just shook his head, very softly.

"Why does everyone say I'm a dog?" Scott asked with the slightest look of irritation.

"Because you're a dog born into a human's body, now shut up I'm trying to process this shit..." Scott gave a tiny huff, and Sam let Stiles sit in silence for a minute or two.

"Uh, Stiles...? Are you okay with this yet...?" Stiles finally blinked and shook his head, as if to clear it and give an answer.

"Uh, no. No we are not, and we probably never will be, so, uh, yeah, I'm just going to pretend this never happened and if anyone ever mentions it I will ignore them. I'm gonna go do the dishes and then maybe drill a hole in my skull and pour some bleach in.*" Stiles got up, took the plates and walked to the kitchen. Sam looked back to see Lucifer plopping something vaguely the size of a small watermelon and rather roundish, with grayish-brown fur onto Scott's lap, and momentarily Sam had a heart attack, assuming it was something dead, until Scott smiled, heaving it into his arms.

"Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Scott buried his face in the large rabbit's fur, and Lucifer seemed relieved as he went back to sit down. Sam sighed with relief.

"Luce." Lucifer looked to him expectantly. "Crowley is banned from talking, please leave him alone." Lucifer gave Crowley a mocking smirk, but looked back to Sam and nodded in approval. Sam mouthed a 'thank you'. He rolled his eyes, sensing more trouble as he heard two sets of footsteps descend the stairs. Dean first glanced at Scott on the stairs to the landing he and Cas were on, then gave Sam a smile, and then caught sight of the two Devils. He gave Sam a bitch face.

"Why?" He whined, just a little bit. Then his face scrunched up and he sneezed softly into his arm. He looked back down at Scott. "Scott... Not that I'm not overjoyed to see you, but why do you have a giant rodent?" Scott just shrugged and Sam sighed again.

"Lucifer apparently doesn't want to kill Scott because he's nice, and it annoyed him, Crowley said he was like a puppy and that Lucifer should get him something 'round, soft, and furry' so he'd leave him alone. And Lucifer disappeared and came back with that." Sam looked to Scott. "Dean isn't very fond of rabbits." Dean cleared his throat, giving Sam a look.

"Ix-nay on the Ucifer-Lay..."

"At's-thay ot-nay oper-pay ig-pay atin-lay." Scott said looking back at Dean. "Los-Ay Iay an-cay derstand-unay actly-exay hat-way our-yay aying-say." Dean raised his hand.

"Okay, okay. Point taken, smartass." Scott smiled and went back to nuzzling the rabbit. Sam's amused and exasperated voice broke the temporary silence.

"Crowley and Lucifer spilled the beans on who they are..." Dean looked down and then back up at Sam.

"And he's alright??" Dean whispered.

"Scott didn't seem at all phased by it, but uh... Stiles..." Scott cut in, much to Sam's relief.

"Stiles freaked out a bit. I think Lucifer disappear is what was finally too much. He's pretending it didn't happen. He does that when he has an information-overload over something that's unimportant but mind shattering. When we were kids, he'd look up like everything about something, and it'd get to the point where it was mind-blowingly fascinating or to where it unfathomable to comprehend the odds it took for that thing to develop, and he'd just shut down and pretend none of it exists. That's actually why he's secretly not agnostic." Scott pet the rabbit as it started to squirm from not getting attention. "To this day, you can't say anything about Mercury, Saturn, or Pluto and have him respond in anyway. He refuses to name more than 6 planets, although he will admit there are 9, or in some people's opinion 8." Dean blinked a few times before looking back to Sam.

"Okay, why are they here?" Dean asked pointed at the two in the living room. Lucifer sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Bored, lonely, and Crowley doesn't like being in the Bunker alone." Dean descended from the landing as Stiles came back in and made his way to the arm chair opposite Lucifer and adjacent to Crowley. Cas followed behind Dean, but gave his sleeve a tug once at the bottom. Dean looked back.

"Dean, I believe this is a good reason to invite Adam over..." Dean replied immediately.

"No." Cas frowned.

"Why not?"

"You know why. He won't come without Michael, and I'm not having that prick over here." Dean huffed and looked towards Lucifer. "That one wouldn't be here if he'd stop breaking in, and he's never thrown anything at me while visiting!"

"You were the one who started throwing things, Dean."

"I threw him a pillow!"

"No, you threw a pillow AT him. You specifically aimed for his face, and threw it so hard it knocked the vase over when he ducked." Dean sneered.

"Still, he didn't have to try to assassinate me with the dust pan. He nearly broke my nose."

"It split your lip; you're being dramatic, he was obviously holding back very much." Dean huffed.

"I still don't like him. He didn't even ask permission to marry Adam." Cas sighed.

"Adam is a grown man, by human standards. They waited nearly 780 years. And if he were to seek anyone's blessing, I assume it would've been Adam's mother's 'permission'. And besides, you did not ask my father permission." Dean scoffed.

"Because A-you never actually met him. B- he's a dead beat. And C- no one knows where he is." Cas rolled his eyes.

"Don't you miss Adam, Dean? Wouldn't you like to see your own brother?"

"I'd love to see him but he knows how I feel about Mic. It's not like we don't talk." Stiles cut in.

"Uh, may I commentate as an objective spectator?" Dean stood a second, surprised Stiles was up to talking, let alone listening and thinking about their conversation. He nodded. "You really need to man up about this. That's your family, man. You shouldn't let a couple hours around someone who irritates you keep you from hanging out with someone you care about. If you do, aren't you kind of being a crappy bro, in at least a little way?" Dean sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Fine, tomorrow night, dinner, that's it. And those two are not staying until then. I don't care where they go, they aren't staying in this house." Lucifer's shrugged and disappeared for a second; returning the next with a large, stiff, bag-like thing. Dean gave a questioning, slightly worried look.

"Sammy, we're borrowing your pop up tent and going out front. You should join us."

"Uh, yeah I'm not going to, because I have a warm bed to sleep in upstairs, and I don't want to be in a tent with you two...." Lucifer gave him a look. "Not again anyways."

Chapter Text

Lucifer had developed a small habit that he wasn't sure was healthy. It had only served to ruin him so far, but it was his to deal with in whatever way he wished and he chose to keep it, despite the problems it had caused. It really only called for a readjustment of priorities, although priorities really hadn't been a priority in years. His habit, his guilty pleasure if you care to call it such even if he wasn't guilty for it per se, was to care for Sammy Winchester. In every definition you could twist that into. His vise was to protect the boy, right every wrong bestowed upon him, to give him thought above all else, to take responsibility for him, to claim him as his own, and to look out for him anyway he could. Often times he became misguided in such attempts, but he genuinely felt he done right by the boy on several occasions, even if Sam saw otherwise. He wished to surpass his promise to never really hurt Sam. He wanted to make him smile, at least once. He wanted to add a little rock to the plate of retribution on the scale reflecting how badly he'd fucked up Sam's life and chances of ever being happy. Because really, everything that had been done to lead Sam to him, it was all for His squabble with His brother. He'd told Azazel to find the baby, and prepare him. The demon didn't have to destroy his entire life, twice. Only the events as they occurred could have brought Sam to him, and he knew that all the way back then, it was just before the human showed him he could care about it. And look where the squabble ended up. Before at least he could lie to himself and say "it will be worth it when we win, then I'll make him happy and it will all be worth it...". But it only landed the only two people he still really loved in a Hell with in Hell. Ironically, for Sam. Not that he'd ever get any undeserved credit for his attempts. His many, many failed attempts...

His first was to give Sam comfort, through the form of that woman he missed. He still never lied. But he tried to say anything he could to make Sammy feel better. Of course, Sam being as much of a smart little monkey as he is, He figured it out by Lucifer's second try. Still Lucifer tried to assure Sam he didn't have any ill intentions, but Sam was convinced Lucifer wanted nothing but to manipulate him.

Then he'd tried to explain why he had to do it, when he raised Death. Tried to reassure Sam that there wasn't anything he or Dean could do. Don't get him started on Dean. He wouldn't say Dean was a bad person. Sam loved him and if he was important to Sam, he was important to Lucifer to some degree. He let Dean get away with quite a bit, even if he liked Dean about as much as he likes humanity as a whole. All for Sammy. Of course he could only put up with so much, but Sam's love for his brother definitely intensified Lucifer's patience, and he could admit to himself he held some hint of fond affection for Dean in some faint familial way.

His next attempt to protect Sam was the day he'd killed his brother. Or at least so he thought. Those Pagans thinking they'd kidnap Sam, his vessel without any repercussions. So, of course when Mercury called him he was enraged. He'd never really given much thought to the Pagans. Why would he? They were smart enough to stay out of his way, dumb enough not to be a threat. His Father never paid much mind to the Pagans for mostly the same reason. But those fools actually considered killing the boys. They were going to hurt Sam. Mercury had made such very clear. That was good of him, but he'd conspired to kidnap and hurt the Winchesters same as the rest. And he didn't want any of them to threaten Sam ever again. He wanted to send a clear message to anyone stupid enough to try. But Michael's tactics in getting Dean to say yes left Sam with little faith in Lucifer's promises, and with much fear of his power... He had only wanted Sam safe and away from those savages. And Gabriel gave up his life for some goddess.

The next time worth mentioning was the gift he thought Sam would genuinely appreciate. Of course he didn't. Not openly at least. Lucifer found Sam's compassion ever so cute, but sometimes it could be a real.... bummer. This was when he gathered all the demons Azazel had used to twist and manipulate his poor Sammy, in their former forms. That part was probably unneeded though. He could have had them take some junk bodies. Dead or useless people. But if he had gotten to Brady before the boys had, oh would it have been a bonus. A big bonus. It turned out to just an upset to Sam, partially because he hadn't known a few of them had been demons. But hey, if Lucifer could ever admit he was a screw up, his first and foremost, greatest over all track record of utter failure would be when it came to Sammy.

When comforting Sam was his downfall was the day of the fight. Dean pissed him off more than usual. Manipulating Castiel into hurting Their eldest brother. It really wasn't Lucifer's fault that he reacted with such a short temper. Sam knows he'd do the same if someone manipulated Adam into hurting Dean. He'd probably be willing to kill them. But Sam cared about Dean, so even then Lucifer wouldn't have actually killed Dean. He'd have come damn close but, that only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades right? But Sammy got sentimental. He became so upset, like his mind was flooding itself. It was the most wrong his and Sam's co-existence had felt since the ever so fateful night Sammy said yes. Maybe he should have blocked him out, pushed a little harder, but that was how you burned a good vessel right out... He just couldn't. What good would any of it have been if he ended up having to be alone, without Sammy? Some points just aren't worth proving.

Lucifer had worried that would be the last time he got his fix. Worried Michael would get back and take the chance to take Lucifer out with ease by attacking Sam instead. But no, His brother had tried to save him instead; Which led to the next incident in which Lucifer took care of Sam. Lucifer could be spiteful, petty, really hold a grudge. But Michael had always been the more truly wrathful one. And after they'd all fallen it truly showed. Luci had become a master of manipulating the cage to a good degree of comfort. He'd made sure that He and Michael were in a form most appealingly visible to the boys. Both of them as the only other vessels they'd taken; Michael as John when he was young, and Lucifer as Nick. He'd also kept the boys from being immediately physically torn up by the cage, but Michael didn't think of that. He only thought of Adam being unconscious because he'd taken the fall badly, and how Sam had thrown the four of them into the pit and "ruined everything". Lucifer tried to calm Michael down once the yelling became even slightly excessive, but Michael would never calm himself at Lucifer's request. His temper only escaladed. He tried to strike Sam, and Lucifer got in his path instead, fought with him instead. Michael gave him a good licking, mostly because he was trying to keep the fight tame, keep the boys (mostly just Sammy) safe, but he got the feeling Michael was holding back through the second half for the same reason, and he knew Michael held no concern for Sam's safety, not as upset as he was.

Lucifer kept up his habit in the cage. He kept Michael from hurting him, and when he wasn't he made sure Sam wasn't burning his own mind out. Yes, Lucifer had tortured Sam, to some degree, mostly psychologically or emotionally, very rarely did it get physical, and when it did, it was usually to give a welcomed break to his mind, between how gently Lucifer applied the pain and how Lucifer sweet talked him, it at most lured him into a false sense of security, and at least it allowed Luce to lull Sam into the closest thing to a nap you could get in the Cage, normally they'd always be plagued by nightmare to rot your very soul... But Lucifer could manipulate that, to give Sam rare little gems of hope in the form of dreams of visitations by loved ones, only comforting, never painful. Sam's favorite dream was when Lucifer took Dean's form. One dream Lucifer had noted Sam was particularly comforted by was sitting on their car, watching the stars, drinking some beers, reminiscing and laughing, Lucifer telling him in Dean's voice that he was doing just as he swore. It went on like that for 180ish years. His only comfort when Sam left was that Sam didn't have to suffer anymore.... And that he could at least try to reach out to Sam, through their bond, the mark his Grace had left on his soul. But just when he'd all most broken through to reach Sam, Cas took the connection, and he knew he'd never be able to reach out to Sam again. That is until he was out as well.

He didn't really come to until he was lowered onto his back. He remembered within a second. He was running. No. They got spit out of the cage. Violently. They were hurt, all three of them. Adam wasn't doing well and Michael was preoccupied with making sure he was okay. He said something about a hospital and to stay and that he'd come back. Lucifer's mind was blurry, he got confused, and all he could think about was Sam... He just started running and didn't stop until he was falling down those steps, landing against a large metal door. He blacked out until later. Someone kneeled over him, tapped his shoulder. Sammy...

"Nick?" He must have come up in Nick's body for some reason, but he could tell it felt different. He looked around as much as not moving his head too much allowed, he blinked in a daze. "Lucifer?" His eyes met Sam's and he gave a lazy smile, tried to lazily take his hand without thinking better of it. Of course Sam immediately pulled back. He looked away. Lucifer frowned. 'should be paying attention to me' it was selfish but he wasn't 100% in his right mind. He reached out to grab the chest of Sam's shirts but only managed to latch onto his sleeve."Dean!--- Cas, you up?!--- Crowley, get out here!" Sam looked down to him again and he smiled. "Hey, Stay with me, you're okay..." Then there was someone else there. Lucifer looked at him, inside. A demon, Crowley, he was Lilith's most trusted, he'd helped Sam and Dean try to stop him and Michael. He tried to say hi but nothing came out. He'd say it later. But he gave a small smile before returning his stare to Sam.

"That who you look afraid it is?" Sam gave a short sigh.

"Help me get him inside?" Sam tugged his sleeve free of Lucifer's grasp, which made him pout but Sam removed his shirt and covered him. He was naked??

"Squirrel's gonna be pippy about this..." Sam positioned him to best carry him into the house.

"Are you going to help me out or not?" Crowley sighed and went down to pick up his legs so they wouldn't drag. They both did their best to lift him onto the couch, once they got there. He just cuddled up with the shirt. "Damn, why the hell is he so heavy?"

"If I had to guess I'd assume it's the wings..." They both were panting.

"I'm gonna get him some water." Sam hurried out of the room and Lucifer tried to stumble his way off the couch, only to collapse into Crowley's arms. Sam came back seconds later as Crowley was trying to get Lucifer to stay lying on the couch, Lucifer just trying to push him away and fall again. The second Sam was at his side trying to calm him Lucifer was clinging to him as if he was drowning.

"Don't leave again..." Was the best Lucifer was able to blurt out. Sam pressed him against to stop his struggling.

"It's okay; just let me take care of you..."

Maybe it could be okay. Maybe it was his turn to be taken care of.

Chapter Text

"So what if he's going to text you!? He's a jerk, and probably a murderer, and a werewolf. Ignore him!" Stiles scoffed as he changed for dinner.

"Why in God's name, other than that, should I ignore him? Have you seen him? He looks like a Roman god, and he's into me."

"Because you're too good for him, or he's not good enough for you... However that goes." Scott pouted seeing he wasn't getting through to Stiles. "And so what if he looks like a Roman god? You look like a Greek god. That's way better." Stiles glared dully at Scott.

"I look like a Greek goddess. Not typically appealing if you're a guy." His phone buzzed and his eyes met Scott's. He lunged for the phone but Scott tackled him to the floor. Scott held the phone out of his reach as he struggled for it. Stiles barely heard footsteps climbing the stairs.

"COME ON! What happened to playing hard to get?! You're being pathetic!" Scott growled after being flipped over off of Stiles and pinned. He threw Stiles off and pinned him again. "Ha!" Just then Dean opened the door. He just rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"You better have a good explanation." Scott gave no hint of fear, probably because he didn't realized how their position looked.

"I don't like Stiles' boyfriend." Dean quirked an eyebrow.

"And you decided to make him aware of alternate options?" Scott looked up and tilted his head in confusion.

"Huh?" Stiles took the chance to knee Scott in the groin, and then kick him off.

"Quit being a cockblock and give me the phone!" Scott kept Stiles at arm's length.

"No, Derek texted and I'm trying to convince Stiles to have some dignity!!"

"I've been pathetic my whole life! If it'll get me laid, why stop now!?" Dean smiled slightly.

"Right. Scott, Come out here for a second will ya?" Scott looked at Stiles and then to Dean.

"Am I going to come back into this room alive??" Dean just nodded and made a come on already gesture. Scott gave Stiles the phone and went out into the hall with Dean. Dean pulled out him wallet, and pulled out a ten, giving it to Scott. "What's this for??"

"That is for not liking his boyfriend." He pulled out a twenty and put it in the boy's hand. "This is for you to cockblock as long as possible. Yeah?" Scott smiled and nodded. Dean walked back down the hall and Scott went back into the room.

"What did he say?" Stiles smiled.

"'Hey'." Scott scoffed as he climbed on the bed to read with Stiles.

Stiles had texted back "Hey. Wyd?" And only just got a reply.

"Working out. Figured I'd check in b4 you assume I'm murdering ppl in my free time." Stiles gave a goofy smile as he replied.

"I'm still not sure you don't." Then he sent "You working out at the gym?"

"I'm more the stay at home type." Scott blurted.

"Isn't he staying at his family's burnt down house? He doesn't even have a shower, he must smell." Stiles was going to snap back at him but he gave a wondering look.

"How do you bathe if you're staying at your family house??" Scott rolled his eyes but watched the phone, kind of wanting to know.

"Creek. There's a spot nearby that's abt 5 ft deep. It's really clear and has a calm current. It's nice." Stiles went a bit wide eyed.

"You bathe in public... in a creek... out in the woods... au naturel?"

"Yes?"

"That is very nice. Yes, nice is the word I'm going with." Stiles leaned away from Scott a bit, who peaked at the phone anyway, and typed another. "I should join you some time. Sounds fun. Yes, fun is the word I'm going with." Scott punched him in the shoulder.

"This very quickly became kinda sexual. Although it is adding an odd pep to my exercising, wasn't really what I was going for when I started this work out."

"I'm sorry, would you like me to stop? It's mostly involuntary but I can actively try not to be lascivious when thinking about a downright beautiful human being bathing in a majestic manner."

"Not particularly, but for some reason I feel like Scott is reading this and I'd hate for him to judge me for being easy." Stiles glared at Scott, who stuck out his tongue. "Plus, I have to go bathe in a majestic manner. Cya" Stiles almost died. He got up and was down the stairs like a bolt of lightning. He waved at "Uncle Luc" and Crowley as he zipped by, and found Dean as he was setting the table in the dining room. "Dean! I need to go on a hike."

"What? When?" Dean looked at the boy in utter bewilderment at the odd request.

"Now, please? You don't mind right?" Dean gave an are you serious look.

"First of all, no, you're not going. Second of all you're an idiot, especially if you thought I'd say yes. Third, just why?" Stiles gave a pitiful whine.

"Caaaaas!" Stiles cried with a deep whine.

"You're grounded, Stiles. A sudden unsupervised hike is not healthy for your concept of consequences and discipline." Cas called from the kitchen as he cooked. Dean suddenly shouted to get the boy's attention.

"Stiles! Why do you need to go for a hike?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Derek may or may not be bathing in a creek in the preserve on the other side of town..." Dean gave a face that let on that he was genuinely concerned and put his hands on Stiles' shoulders.

"You will either grow up to be very famous, or you will have seriously disturbing criminal record..." Sam scoffed as he came in, looking like he just got in from a run.

"Or if you truly become a part of the family, will be very famous for your seriously disturbing criminal record." Dean shrugged a little.

"Most of our records aren't true though." Sam laughed softly.

"Well, they're mostly true in some way, shape, or form. Just... out of context, really." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"As the son of a cop, I can honestly say I don't want to know." Sam nodded slightly.

"What were you two talking about it for then?" Stiles sighed and leaned against the table.

"I wanted to go for a hike in the preserve but They will not allow me to." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Talk about out of context. He wants to go peep on lover boy, who apparently swims in a creek."

"Bathes." Stiles piped in shortly, not having really expected Dean to differentiate.

"That Derek guy, huh? I suppose you left out that you saw him just yesterday." Stiles gave Sam a SHUT UP!? look but Dean already responded with an is that so? look of his own.

"When was this?" Dean addressed Stiles as a gesture of curtsey and mock respect, since anything he would say would be fact checked by Sam. Stiles sighed.

"When we went to get ice cream." Stiles said and stopped, now all too familiar with Dean's short direct answers, ask what he needs to know style of interrogation.

"Doesn't seem like the random ice cream on a Saturday type." Dean quipped flatly, all business. Stiles looked to Sam and sighed again. Scott and his big ears.

"He followed us there." Dean didn't look anything close to pleased with that.

"Okay... Why." Stiles didn’t like being questioned/ordered like he was hiding something but he was and if he didn’t give some answer it’d be obvious.

"He wanted to tell me he'd be busy this weekend and wouldn't be in touch until tonight. He wanted to surprise me in person because I got mad that he didn't get back to my texts after you pointed a gun at him. Basically just stopped in to say hi." Sam piped in after him, a smirk on his lips.

"And a quite non-verbal goodbye." Dean went a little wide eyed in disbelief.

"Well, vague threat of murder really hasn't smartened him up huh?" Stiles growled out a sigh.

"It was a peck on the cheek. He was nothing but a gentleman. I invited him in to meet Sam, and even though Sam was making murder eyes at him, he said he would've but he was busy and had things to attend to. No need for murder or threats thereof." Dean raised an eyebrow.

"I'm more concerned that some shady guy just 10 years my junior is stalking my son!" He sassed. Stiles cleared his throat.

"Not to say I don't love you or Cas, or Sam for that matter; Hell, even 'Uncle.... Luci' is growing on me; but a week ago you didn't even know me. You probably would've been shooting at me and Scott in the woods yourself. And I'm sure you wouldn't have missed. If you hadn't met me, and saw me and Derek with each other, you wouldn't assume he's shady, and we both know it. I'm sure you were more of a lady's man when you were his age, does that make you a bad husband, or father? No. You're just worried because you know we like each other and you think because he's older I can't take care of myself. But I can, and if I couldn't you can trust me to tell you if I need you. Or at least Cas. I promise. Now can we drop the stalking thing?" Dean smiled.

"Yeah... That was cute, but no. But tell you what, I will check the kid out, and if I don't mind what I find, you... can... see him... But until I do, limit it to mostly phone. If he comes over he's got 7 minutes before I put a shell of rock salt into his chest. If he has the curtsey to use the door then I'll just toss his ass out. Understood?" Stiles sighed but knew that was as easily as Dean would accept it and nodded.

"Thank you..." He said begrudgingly. He almost missed Sam, out of the corner of his eye, getting hugged from behind by 'Uncle Crowley', Sam allowed it for a moment, even leaned into the embrace minimally, but gave his arm a pat-whack after a couple seconds, and Crowley gingerly pulled away, resting his hands on Sam's waist for a full second before pulling away to stand next to him. Stiles could assume Crowley kissed the back of Sam's neck or one of his shoulder blades, and he had to admit they, the three of them, were cute, at least from the hidden little affections he saw. He wasn't sure they were together but they were close, something-ish, and he found it cute.

"Hello, boys." Dean rolled his eyes.

"What do you want, Crowley?" Crowley glared at Dean lightly and gave a spiteful smirk.

"To see the look on your face when I tell you your brother called and said they'll be here in-" Crowley paused and the doorbell rang. "Now." Dean went pale.

"Sam, answer the door." Sam smirked, although with a sympathetic undertone.

“No way…” Dean rolled his eyes and shoved his way past his brother heading for the door.

“Dean, try to be civil?” Cas called from the kitchen as he stalked towards the door. He rolled his eyes but gave a silent nod. As he neared the door he heard the young voice that made him fill with hostility towards the archangel.

“I do not dislike him, I actively hate everything about him as a person. There is no resolution to be had. I cannot comprehend why in the world you’d continue dragging me to these stupid family dinners.” He could almost hear Adam sigh.

“Because you’re a part of my life and I want you to at least communicate with my brothers civilly. Plus coming over isn’t just a my family thing. Did you ever think maybe Cas wants you to come by? And Lucifer will be there. Sam’s visiting. You have a nephew to meet. Are you really not going to enjoy it just over some stupid grudge because Dean didn’t wanna be your vessel? I mean, after all, it worked out for the best.” Michael let out a frumpy huff on the other side of the door.

“It’s not because of that, I just find him utterly intolerable!” Dean rolled his eyes and swung the door open.

“Right back at ya, dick…” He ground out only giving a momentary glare at Michael, now in the form of their father, when he was young. The two hadn’t told Adam, but telling by how much the two held back as far as affection went while around the boys, they assumed it was a topic that didn’t need to be visited. Adam fixed him with a fake hopeful smile though, and Dean returned a reassuring counter smile. “Hey kid, How’s things?” He said, giving Adam a small hug and welcoming him in. He glared at Michael as he entered. Only for Sam to shove him slightly. It’s not like Sam liked Michael, but he definitely tried harder than Dean to be nice to him. He shook Michael’s hand, but that was the extent of their interaction. He then gave Adam an awkward hug.

“Hey. Everything good?” Adam smiled and nodded.

“Everything is great, guys. We’re both doing great.” Sam still gave the younger man a concerned look but he nodded.

"Well, it's great to have you guys visit."

“Oh, so that is a human thing…” The archangel muttered from behind him.

“What?” Dean snipped at him. Michael turned an inquiring look towards him that said ‘Yes? I didn’t say anything’ and Dean glared. Adam gave a roll of his eyes and elbowed Michael in the rib softly.

“Oh, this dick just always assumes my emotions are me being over sensitive. We recently had a little bet about reassurances.” Adam stepped on Dean’s boot when he gagged just a bit.

“All I’m saying is I don’t wanna know what the bet was for. You two are grosser than Sam and the devil. Take your pick as to which.” Michael raised an eyebrow at the comment.

“What do you mean by that?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Nothing!!” Just then Crowley pinched him from behind, smirking. Sam grabbed his hand breaking a few bones.

“We really need to find the definition of ‘nothing’ for you, Darling.” Sam glared at him.

“Who’s given you permission to speak yet, hm? That hand goes anywhere near there again and I’ll cut it off and keep it.” Crowley rolled his eyes as Sam walked off with Dean, and followed along with Adam, and by effect Michael.

“You must be the least annoying of the Winchester brothers.” Adam nodded slightly.

“Adam Milligan.” Crowley kissed his hand.

“Enchanté Adam.” Adam was about to ask for his name, but Crowley pulled Adam a few feet forward, a behavior Michael was about to correct violently when the reason became painfully apparent as Lucifer slammed into him. He will never admit he groaned from his place on the floor. He was surprised that Sam had come back to help them up though. Once up he brushed himself off and gave Lucifer an irritated look.

“What was that?” Lucifer smiled at him.

“It’s called a glomp. It’s where you hug and tackle someone at the same time.” Michael huffed at Lucifer’s levity.

“And who led you to believe that was an acceptable greeting?” Lucifer gestured at Stiles and Scott, who were standing against the wall desperately trying not to lose their shit as they held in laughter. Stiles managed to clear his throat and gain some composure as Michael stepped over, but Scott kept snickering. “You must be the child.”

“Not in a few years.” Michael shrugged slightly.

“But comparatively…” Stiles scoffed slightly and raised an eyebrow.

“Dude, you’re like 20.” Michael paused a moment, not sure how to answer that. Dean started laughing and came over to put an arm around Stiles.

“We’re so blessed to have you.” Dean squeaked between laughed. Stiles turned his head to him as if having not heard him.

“Huh?” Dean paused to repeat himself.

“I said we’re blessed to have you as a son.” Stiles shook his head.

“I’m sorry, ‘we’re….’?” Dean furrowed his brow, not getting why Stiles was having trouble.

“Blessed.” He said clear as possible, but Stiles still didn’t recognize what he’d said.

“I think you’re mumbling Dean.” Dean looked utterly confused. Scott just rolled his eyes.

“I think he said, they’re lucky to have you, Stiles.” Stiles’ face lit up as if he’d heard it for the first time.

“Oh! Aw, that’s so sweet. Thanks Dean.” Once Stiles walked off, probably to talk Cas into getting Dean to back off Derek, Dean turned to Scott. Even Michael looked at the boy.

“What the hell was that?” Scott shrugged.

“His coping mechanism, or lack there off. Told you, he didn’t deal with the ‘devils in the living room’ thing well.”

“So, he blocks out anything that’ll remind him off it?” Scott nodded.

“Until he decides he can process it.”

“Dinner is complete!” Cas called from the dining room and Scott scurried off. Coming into the dining room, Dean just barely caught sight of Stiles kissing Cas on the cheek as the angel smiled, just finishing up serving up what seemed to be a hardy stew of some sort, and Stiles finished up setting out silverware, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“What are my boys conspiring about now?” Cas only peaked up momentarily, before sitting down and looking to Sam. Stiles had a slightly smug look that worried him. Sam gave a sigh.

“Apparently I’m helping you with the case of the shady boyfriend.” Dean gave a look of slight surprise, and Stiles groaned.

“Oh my God. He’s not shady. Can we stop saying shady?” Most of them were waiting for the soup to cool but Michael already had a mouthful of it.

“I find most humans ‘shady’ personally.”

“Comparatively, in this family, Derek should not be considered shady!” Stiles said loudly.

“But he’s dating you. So he is.” Sam said matter-of-factly.

“And you and me are doing some bonding after dinner.” Stiles sighed exaggeratedly.

“Why?!” Dean scoffed.

“Because otherwise I will never let you leave this house. Ever.” Stiles looked like he wanted to scream.

“And what are we bonding over?” Dean started on his soup.

“Shooting practice.” Stiles’ silverware clanked in his bowl.

“I don’t want to.” He said firmly. Dean looked at him then set down his silverware to fold his hands and give his best ‘I get where you’re coming from but this is how it’s going to be’ face.

“Well, you want to run around with werewolves in the middle of the night on full moons, I’m making sure you know how to fight one off. I’m not saying kill your best friend someday. I get that’s not an option. But if Scott ever wolfed out and came at you, I would hope he would love you enough as a friend to understand if you needed to put a couple silver bullets in his knees. Same goes for whoever you two were running with.” Stiles huffed and turned his attention toward his soup, not wanting to talk about it since Scott was getting uncomfortable. Dean picked up the roll Cas had put on a plate next to each bowl. He was greeted with rice and ground beef and beans and onions and a bit of cheese somewhere in there. He didn’t know what to say so he just made a really loud “Hmm!” sounding mostly surprised. “Cas, what the h- did you make these??” Cas nodded softly.

“Scott gave me the instructions.” Dean looked to the steaming roll and then to Scott.

“My mom made them with me and Stiles as kids.” Scott said finally smiling again.

“My mom gave his mom the recipe, because she never really got to make them… later on, and she knew me and Scott would like helping Melissa with them….” Stiles said normally but taking a second with certain parts. It made Sam look a bit uncomfortable and Lucifer’s hand disappeared under the table to rest on Sam’s leg.

“Well, they’re damn good.” Dean said, sensing the discomfort in the room but not wanting to bring it up. Michael piped up with a mock annoyed voice, picking a fight to change the subject.

“Must you use such words for absolutely no relevant reason?” Adam poked him, not seeing what was going on, but Dean was already going along with the act.

“Yeah, I must. They’re used to add meaning to things.” Michael gave a fake sneer.

“Maybe it would if you knew what they meant.” Dean raised his voice a little in retort.

“Well, it wouldn't be around to mean anything if your dad didn’t go around damning things in the first place.” Michael slammed his fist down on the table.

“He wouldn’t have to if you apes weren’t so damnable in the first place!” Now Dean simply yelled back.

“Yeah, well it sure as hell seems like we’re better off than we would’ve been going with His plan.” Dean and Michael gave fake glares at each other in the resulting silence before Gabe burst in the kitchen door.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Sammy didn’t give me much warning. Dad says hi, but he was busy with a pl- something, I didn’t really catch it. How’s dinner going?” Michael answered lightly as he returned to his meal as if nothing had happened.

“Fine.” 

“You’ve gotta try these rolls. Scott, Stiles’ friend, taught Cas how to make them. Love em’.” Dean said, smiling at Gabe.

Chapter Text

`~Howcouldyoutakehislifeaway;Whatmadeyouthinkyouhadtheright?~`

"Ha, no, I'm not touching that." Dean held out the gun.

"Yes, you are. I want to be sure-" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"What? That I know something I'll never use?" Dean sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Not all monsters are cute and cuddly like Scott, Stiles."

"I have no interest in murdering people!"

"You don't have to-"

"No! Guns make it way too easy, if you're a hair off it can be the difference between being able to get away, and killing a person." Dean took a breath to calm down.

"Then we'll make sure you aren't off..." Stiles grit his teeth in annoyance and took the gun. Dean was ready to set Stiles up, but he didn't even see the kid get into position before he was firing the whole mag at the targets Dean had put up on trees of varying distance. Stiles took one of the frisbees they'd been using to practice and threw it up and out, into the feild. It almost immediately fell from the sky.

"I know how to shoot Dean. My Dad held the record at his office." Dean walked a few yards to pick up the frisbee.

"Not bad. Not perfect but-"

"You put silver bullets in the gun. I accounted for the effect on the tree targets, But it didn't hold course in the air."

"What the hell's your problem then, kid?" Stiles put the .45 caliber Semi-auto Colt down gingerly before turning back to Dean.

"My dad was a cop, Dean. He died in the line of duty. I don't know what happened but I don't think his gun helped much... They're dangerous and they don't do any good." Dean sighed and nodded. "Are there any non-lethal options? Those guys from the woods used these arrows that, like exploded, and neither of us could see, and it hurt our ears. And would pepperspray work?"

"To incapacitate something in a combat situation? Only if it was serin gas or something, and that would hurt you more than them. Mace is only good for giving you time to run. The flash bang thing could work, but those are real bulky, it would be hard to carry enough of them to get you out off trouble. Those hunters, think of them as a corporation. Me and Sammy, we're a mom and pop shop. I only know those hunters because me and my old man worked a couple cases with some of 'em. They'd know Sammy better, he and our mom's dad worked with them a couple years back. Clean cut case. They always seemed like good hunters, back when I was younger they were at least. There was one chick, seemed a bit unbalanced, but that kinda kin, more common than not."

"So the point of your rambling is...?" Stiles prodded. Dean rolled his eyes.

"They're more proffessionally equipped, stacked really. But they are more specialized. They don't get into the shit we do. Most hunters don't." Stiles eyes fixed on Dean as reloaded the magazine, but with plastic bullets.

"What kinda shit?" Dean shrugged, just glad Stiles was registering this kind of talk again.

"Well, they don't get into ghosts for one. Most hunters do, but they like flesh and blood. I hear they don't get in on vamps but they only started popping up again in the last, about ten years. They work werewolf, kitsunes, witches, occasional wendigo, that kinda stuff. We work all sorts off weird all over the country. They look for monsters, we just look for weird. And we work big stuff. Demons, Angels, Apocalypses, all kindsa crazy." Stiles took a deep breath.

"Dude." Dean gave a small chuckle.

"Exactly. Think about that feeling, except you've known about the monster stuff most your life. That's the kinda crap we deal with. The kind of crap that makes hunters think you're crazy." Dean gave a snicker as an instance came to mind. "We worked one case, that looked like abductions by aliens. All the ones hunters get on turn out to be hoaxes. Usually some ass trying to play off murder, or someone going missing, or some idiot hiding out in the woods to be famous for getting abducted, or some other kind of monster. There are instances we don't investigate, but the point is there are absolutely no aliens as far as hunters are concerned. 'You don't kill anybody, we can't see you, you don't exist.' But yeah, so this one crazy chick says it's fairies. Sam doesn't have a soul at the time so he says right to her that she's bat shit, and basically says she's on drugs. And it actually ends up being freaking fairies! Hiding as their abductions as alien abductions to make people believe it was bullshit." Stiles perked up.

"Didn't have a what now?"

"Hm....?" Stiles shook his head, not even wanting to know.

"Were they fairies, or faerie?" Dean noticed the slight change in pronunciation and furrowed his brow.

"What's the difference?"

"Well, faerie or Fae are the mythological population of an equally mythological other realm. Fairies are idealist fantasies constructed based on certain prettier races of faerie."

"So you know which it is, you're just being a smart ass. Cute. Well, it wasn't just tinkerbell if that's what you're wondering. There were some elves, a guy with a red hat, a tink who was not at all pleasant, and a Leprechaun running the show. I hate fairies man..." Stiles shrugged.

"Could get a cat." Dean gave him a go-on look and Stiles explained. "A lot of malevolent faerie can be keep away by a cat. Especially the ones who like to take up residence in people's houses. But they keep away good ones too. But they say all faerie are either irritable, mischievous, or down right violent when it comes to people. 'Tinks' as you called them, are know for being mischievous if they like you, and irritable to the point of biting pieces off if they have reason to. Some myths claim they seduce people but I'm pretty sure it was just wishful thinking. Some faerie are known for it, but they'd be kind of too small to get anything out of it, and they are really fond of humans, so there is no reason they would." Dean blinked at him.

"How is it that you just found out about this crap, and yet you know more about them than I do?" Stiles smiled at the borderline compliment proudly, and Dean handed him the gun back, now loaded with plastic bullets. "I want you to stack these up on your silvers. Two on each and you can come in. Can I trust you not to put your eye out if I go in and wash up?" Stiles rolled his eyes and turned to the targets again to try at the task. Dean loaded another magazine before going in and heading up to check on Sam.

Chapter Text

Derek heard shots as he approached the house. They were slow, calm, and practicing, but he still stopped to listen. It sounded like hard rubber hitting trees, then a frustrated growl. Stiles. He really hoped that wasn't because of him, but he keep walking up the drive way through the woods. Then he head another commotion, although he could vaugely see this one. One man, Stiles foster father Dean, was throwing out another man, who looked to match Dean's general description, besides his bright blond hair. Dean was angry and yelling and that almost made him turn back.

"Come in this house again, and I will holy oil flambe your ass so fast your head will spin!!" With that he slammed the door, and the man sat on the door step with a huff. Derek knew that he should leave, tell Stiles something came up, but he was never very smart. He walked to the walk way up to the house, cringing at his own bad judgement. The man looked up at him dully, as if his presence bored him more than loneliness.

"You're the shady boyfriend?" Derek shifted slightly.

"In relation to Stiles?" The man rolled his eyes. Derek could tell he wasn't human, far from it. His presence shook Derek's very existence. But he couldn't pin down what he was.

"No, in relation to Cuddle Bear there. Yes, to the brat." Derek bristled at that but could tell the term was used in fondness.

"I guess that's a term you could use to describe it. Although, we aren't dating." Derek mused trying to think of the right word.

"But you're trying to get in his pants." Derek shifted uncomfortably at the brass statement.

"That's not my sole intention. If we get to that point, I'll be glad, but that will only be when and if Stiles is ready." The man rolled his eyes again and waved Derek off.

"A yes would've sufficed. Good luck, Daddy Dearest is in a mood." Derek looked from the door to the guy.

"Okay then." He walked to the door and knocked. He could hear the steps approaching the door, so he wasn't surprised when it was swung open. Dean exasperatedly looked down at his shoes, giving a sigh. He looked back up to Derek, displeased.

"What the hell are you doing here now?" Derek gave what he hoped was an innocent look.

"Stiles texted and said he wanted to see me, so...." Derek shrugged realizing how pathetic he was and not really caring. "Here I am." Dean turned without a sigh to call to the back door that had just opened and closed.

"Stiles!" Dean called, annoyed.

"Yeah?" Stiles called back, distracted and a bit winded, and the voice had Derek fighting off the smallest smile.

"Front and center, now." Stiles came around the corner, muttering asking what Dean's problem was, before seeing him and walking hurriedly, only to stumble around a chair that was barely in the way. "Oh, god. Get a grip before I puke." Stiles gave Dean a look.

"What crawled up and died Dean?" Stiles whispered. Dean just glared at the man on the doorstep, then pointed to Derek.

"He doesn't go anywhere but the living room. And if he tries anything consequence one goes into effect. You understand me?" Stiles rolled his eyes and sighed.

"In the living room?" Dean let out a growling sigh.

"Anywhere in my house, I just don't want anyone screwing my family in my house!" Stiles and Derek stared as Dean stormed off.

"He seems fairly homocidal right now." Stiles gave what Derek would say was a giggle.

"Yeah, kinda. Really, really a bad time." Stiles said bringing Derek into the living room. Derek just angled his head in confusion.

"Why'd you tell me to come over then?" Stiles copied the movement.

"What do you mean? I told you, Scott's over, I mean showing up at my door was sweet, but-" Speak of the devil, Scott came skipping down the stairs.

"Heeey Dereeek." He said in a singsong way tossing Stiles his phone. "What are you doing here?" It wasn't a real question. A stage question at most. Stiles rolled his eyes and whacked his friend with a Gibbs-slap. He gave a light growl, but Derek growling quietly back made him stop. Stiles hadn't heard Derek but had heard Scott's plenty well.

"Don't you growl at me man.What the hell? Why would you make him come of his way like that?" Scott smirked as he heard the back door open and close and pointed to the entry just in time for Dean to come in, a little less peeved.

"Stiles, something to keep in mind, always pick up your silvers if it's safe." Dean jingled the bullets in hand. "Hard to find enough for the jackets sometimes, picking them up saves a bit of material." Stiles nodded at Dean, not noticing Scott's point, even though Derek was looking horribly uncomfortable. Dean then went to the basement and closed the door.

"That's why." Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"I hate to tell you Scott, but Derek has already met Dean in the most intimidating way possible." Derek shifted a bit closer to Stiles. He didn't want to run off, but he really didn't want to be around sketchy hunters. He'd had his suspicions, but this was Scott's point. To bring to Derek's attention that these people were hunters, and that he should be running for the hills.

"Yeah, but I don't think it's been made obvious that he's a hunter yet. Something you should keep in mind in case you think in any way that you'll hurt Stiles and get away with it." Now Derek growled. "And I observe nueterings on a regular basis."

"You think just because I can't throw you through the wall right now , that you should run your mouth? You really think that's a good idea?" Derek bit, glaring to instill a bit of needed fear, that had Scott giving a gulp. Derek reeled back, giving a smile as Stiles grabbed his arm, but Stiles had a worried look.

"Hey, look, I know that sounds bad, but Dean and Sam aren't like those guys from the woods... They're fine with Scott, I'm sure they'd be fine with you, I just... If I told him, he'd just have said I couldn't see you, and have gone and threatened you." Derek peaked at the basement door, listening for Dean, before ducking down and kissing Stiles, honestly a bit longer than he'd planned it.

"Shuttup, Stiles. It was a good call. If he finds out fine, but I don't like telling people about me anyway. Especially not hunters." He paused a second. "You said Sam and Dean. Winchester?" Stiles nodded.

"Yeah. Why? Have you heard of them?" Derek sighed with sudden stress.

"Yeah, they're.... pretty famous. They're basically a household name in the wolf world. 'Don't get in trouble, don't get caught in the public eye, don't draw attention, or....' Yeah." Derek really wanted to just run out now. Say good night and never go to the house again, but he would stay as long as Stiles' warmth radiated off him and caressed Derek's side.

"Wait, so they're you're guys' boogeyman? Your, well, Krampus?" Derek nodded, trying to think of anything but Stiles' lips and his own nerves. "Well- Hey." Stiles touched his cheek to make Derek look at him, and he felt like his face was burning. "The only way he's gonna hurt you is if you try feeling me up, so don't worry about it. Okay?" Derek took a half step away, not wanting to seem vulnerable in front of Scott, but he then ducked back to steal another kiss from Stiles. He meant for it to be a goodnight kiss, but then Stiles pulled him closer by his jacket, and Scott made a griping noise they both ignored. They only parted a couple seconds later because Sam came trotting down the stairs.

"Uh, hey. You're Derek." Sam said, as if it was a greeting, Derek just nodded awkwardly. Sam then looked to Stiles. "Dean know-?"

"Yep. Luc is on the porch. I won't tell Dean." Sam pointed at Stiles as if a thank you was meant by it and he went out the front door. Derek leaned in again to kiss Stiles, but this time he made himself lean away after a moment. He tried to step back but Stiles grip was firm on his jacket, and he gave this little whine that made his wolf want to stop it. And he would've had to, if he hadn't heard calm footsteps going towards the stairs, and then coming down.

"Stiles, someone is coming..." A gruff looking man, whose age Derek couldn't really tell, spoke with a smile, down the stairs before Stiles could let him pull away. The small man had a similar energy to the guy on the porch, but didn't rattle him nearly as much, and Derek didn't know if he was just feeling things, still able to feel pressure from the man outside.

"Someone can hear you just fine." Stiles let go of Derek to hug whoever this was, and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make him damn jealous. Stiles looked between them, starting to speak once he pulled away.

"Cas, this is Derek. Derek, this is my... other foster dad Cas." Derek gave the sweetest smile he could, trying not to look at all like a big bad wolf. "He has insanely good hearing, and he's awesome." Cas put out his hand and Derek took it, careful not to squeeze, since the guy seemed kind of, well, dainty, but the smaller man had a grip that actually hurt a bit.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Mr. Winchester." The man shook his head, with a smile.

"Although I do love getting called that, it's just Cas." Cas looked in the direction Dean had gone off in and then looked back with a smile. "I hope Dean wasn't too rancurous. There was an incident that put him in a mood. I'm sure you were the last person he wanted to see." Derek honestly didn't know how to take that. Stiles didn't seem shocked or outraged. He just sighed.

"Cas, one of those thing that you don't mean to be offensive but comes out a bit offensive." Cas actually seemed alarmed that this might in anyway be offensive.

"Oh. I'm terribly sorry. I did not mean to offend you." The man laughed a bit nervously. "If it helps I once called Sam an abomination, and didn't mean offense by it."

"Why would you call Sam an abomination?" Stiles asked, a bit weirded out.

"Well, it has to do with Mercury." Stiles paused a second before leaning into Derek's side.

"I'm sorry, what were we talking about?" Derek gave Scott a confused look, but Cas just went on changing the subject.

"Derek, would you like to come over for brunch next weekend?" Derek had no idea how to answer. He didn't want to offend, but that really wasn't his thing, and he had more imp- Stiles just pinched him... He quickly turned to Stiles. who just made a hand motion he'd never seen used, which he could only describe as conveying 'Ingore that I just pinched your ass and answer the question already.'

"Um, thank you so much for the offer, Cas, but Dean doesn't seem to like me very much, and I'd hate to intrude." Cas shook his head at the idea.

"Dean's worries will be sated within the week, I'm sure." Derek nodded, seeing no way to turn the offer down at this point. How was this happening to him?

"Alright, sounds... fun." The Basement door opened with a creak and Dean cried out.

"Damn it, Scott, keep an eye on your friggin' rabbit!!" Derek could hear the rabbit whine quietly, almost sounding like guinea pig noises, as Dean scooted the rabbit away with his foot. Derek didn't know whether to 'aw', laugh, or feel bad for the rabbit, seeing it was just interested in the man. "Oh come on! Damn it..." Dean muttered to himself before picking it up and holding it at arms length and coming to plop it in Scott's arms. Dean gave a sneeze and took a breath. "Hate rabbits." Derek shifted closer to Stiles for comfort, snaking an arm around his waist to rest his hand on the other side. Cas poked the hunter's side, and Derek bit the inside of his cheek, wondering how this obviously inhuman person could be so comfortable with such a intimidating hunter. The man gave a laugh, grating Derek's shaky nerves.

"Dean, stop, it just likes you." The hunter scoffed.

"Yeah, everything that likes me tries to make me fall down a staircase. Man how I've been misreading that..." Despite the man's dissatisfied rant, Derek watched the man probe the rabbit's fur with a finger, petting the nibbling rabbit reluctantly. Scott held the rabbit, cooing at it, and it started purring. Derek leaned in to whisper to Stiles.

"Why does Scott have a rabbit??" Stiles leaned into Derek more, a small smirk on his lips, but he answered seriously.

"Unlce Luc gave it to him so he'd stop being nice because it made him not want to kill him." Derek furrowed his brow, giving a confused look. But a whistle interrupted.

"Hey, Frisky McUnderage. Put some space between you and Harley Boy, or I'll turn the hose on you both." Derek turned his attention back to Dean, standing straight again. Derek wanted to correct Dean on his vehicle preference, but Stiles rolled his eyes, responding instead.

"Hey, Sticky-fingers McArrestRecord, you get those hand cuffs you and Cas've got legally?" Dean and Stiles stared each other down, with no end in sight. That is until Cas spoke up.

"Dean, Derek will be having brunch with us next Sunday." Derek had never seen such a look of horror and "what did you just say?" on someone's face.

"What was that?" Dean said, acting as if he hadn't heard what he obviously had. Cas cleared his throat before enunciating, as if playing along.

"Derek. Will be. Joining us. Next Sunday. For. Brunch." Cas smiled, but Dean looked... Derek really could not describe it.

"Cas, may I talk to you in the kitchen real quick?" Cas just kept the same smile and said firmly.

"No." Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Cas aside.

"You're really going to make plans with this kid for next week? What if we don't don't want him here by the end of this week?" He whispered, and Derek heard and managed not to be offended. Cas straightened the front of Dean's shirt before whispering back.

"If that's the case, I trust you and Sam to make sure he doesn't come anywhere near this family for the remainder of his life, let alone next weekend." There was only so much he could take. Derek kissed Stiles' temple and was gone before the Winchesters turned back.

Chapter Text

Scott had abbandoned him to go look for Allison, so he was all alone when Lydia grabbed him by the arm as he walked to his hall locker before meeting him at practice. He was almost scared for a moment before, he noticed Allison with her. "Hey, Lydia, Allison, nice to see you both! Uh, Allison, Scott is looking for you, to apologize about Friday. He really really wasn't feeling well, I hope you're not too mad. He's been worried all weekend, like sick with worry. If he doesn't find you, please please call him, if I have to console him one more day, I might just kill him." Stiles folded his hands pleadingly and gave his best puppy dog eyes. Allison when hard for a moment before rolling her eyes.

"Fine..." She touched Lydia's shoulder. "I'm gonna go wait for my Dad. We'll talk later." Lydia nodded and Allison left her there with him. What the hell? Why was Lydia Martin standing in front of him? Not that he was complaining but he wouldn't say he wasn't slightly terrified. She steeled herself and Stiles eyed widened. Had he done something wrong? Was she actually mad about him crashing her party?

"Hi. Steve is it?" Stiles deflated. She didn't even remember him.

"Stiles." Lydia nodded.

"Right. Stiles, Me and Allison were considering extending an invitation to you." Stiles' eyes went wide again.

"What-What kind of invitation??" Lydia smiled.

"We'd like to have you over, to Allison's house. A slumber party, more or less." Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"Is the motive of this invitation to get info on Scott?" In response, Lydia smirked.

"Only partially."

"Then why invite me over?? You didn't even know my name until the other night." Apparently you still don't. Stiles forced himself not to say because Lydia Martin.

"I felt like we bonded the other night. And you see Stiles, I don't have many people I consider close friends, people I genuinely like, so when I find people who might qualify, I latch onto them. I have Allison, and now I'm looking for a male friend. You're clever, witty, docile, vulnerable. Perfect. So, Wednesday, what do you say?" Stiles shrugged and nodded.

"Well, sure, um but the thing is, Friday I snuck out to go to the party. I got caught so I'm basically grounded, so I'll have to check to make sure it's okay." Lydia raised a brow.

"And you don't have to check about sleeping over with two girls?" Stiles laughed.

"I'm pretty sure my foster dad would jump with joy for me to be sleeping over with two girls, context be damned."

"Is he giving you trouble over dating a guy? Which, by the way, I need to know how that worked out." Stiles smiled.

"Uh, not so much the guy thing as the older-leather-wearing-buff-sneaking-in-my-window guy thing." Lydia raised a brow again, smirking. "And it worked out, we saw each other that night, and he made sure to get in touch Saturday, and he actually met my foster parents on Sunday." Lydia smiled.

"Good. You can dish about him on Wednesday." Stiles nodded and cut in.

"Sorry to run off, but I've got to get to practice."

"Going to cheer Scott on??" Stiles paused.

"No... I'm on the team..." She actually looked surprised.

"Oh, I never noticed." She smiled. "I'll see you there then. Bye, Stiles." Stiles wanted to be mad but Lydia kissed his cheek as she left, and he almost fell on the floor. He hurried to his locker, then to practice.

He got changed as soon as he got there. Once he did he went to look for Scott, only to find him still in the locker room, one row over, standing with his back to the lockers, half naked, face contorted in shock and confusion. "Apologize to Allison?"

"Yeah..." Scott said simply. Shit no.

"She giving you a second chance or...?"

"Yeah..." Scott said a bit more happy in tone, but face not changing. Stiles gave a celebratory gesture, not seeing what was wrong.

"Yeah, great, so everything's good!" Stiles went to leave and let Scott get dressed but Scott wasn't done.

"No." Stiles came back.

"No?"

"Remember the hunters, the ones from the woods? Her... dad is one of them..."

"Her dad??"

"...Shot me..."

"Allison's father?!"

"With a cross bow..."

"Allison's fathe-?"

"Yes, Her father!" Scott cried loudly.

"Did he recognize you?" Stiles asked coming over to Scott as his friend started hyperventilating.

"I-I don't think so..."

"Does she know?"

"I-I don't know... Oh god, what if she does? Oh god he's going to kill me, Stiles I don't wanna die!" Stiles pat Scott's cheek.

"Hey hey, I won't let that happen, Cas and Dean won't let that happen." Scott whimpered but nodded. "Uh, I might be staying over at Allison's with her and Lydia..."

"What?! Why?!" Scott barked.

"I don't know! Lydia said we bonded at the party and she wants me as a friend!" Scott huffed.

"You're staying at a hunter's house?!"

"I have for a week!"

"Cas and Dean are different! They're your foster parents, they're good people!"

"We don't know that he isn't..."

"They didn't shoot me! He did!" Scott shouted hushed. Stiles shook his head.

"Hey, it's okay, we'll talk it out later. Tell the guys. For now, we focus on practice, right?" Scott nodded with another whimper.

Chapter Text

Before Stiles knew it Scott was doubled over and Jackson was on his back. He was pulling Scott into the Locker room, and then Scott was climbing on the lockers, chasing him to the other side of the locker room, until Stiles sprayed him with a fire extinguisher. Soon enough he was walking to his Jeep, yawning to himself. He stopped when he saw a familiar figure leaning against his baby. He smiled, continuing his approach. "Hey, where'd you come from?" Derek gave a minimal smile.

"You handled yourself pretty well in there..." Stiles sighed.

"Did I? I feel lucky to be alive..." Stiles laughed softly.

"Well, you should be. I think if he was actually giving an effort to killing you, you'd be dead..." Stiles leaned against his Jeep. "Stiles, he can't play in that game Saturday." Stiles sighed.

"Derek..." Derek stood and turned to him.

"It's dangerous." Stiles turned too, the two of them standing close.

"You think I don't know that? I told him. But he's first line. If he doesn't he'll never get his place on first line back..." Derek put a hand on his shoulder.

"If he doesn't there might not be a lacrosse team to play on..." Stiles shook his head.

"Derek, I know. I agree with you... If I could convince him, I would, but all I can do is hope he'll do right by himself, and the team..."Derek nodded, putting on that sour face he sometimes had, though somewhat softer.

"Right... I didn't mean to pressure you about it. I'll talk to him, don't worry about it." Stiles raised a brow.

"Talk?" Derek nodded slowly.

"Communicating through words..."

"With Scott?"

"Yes..."

"Really?"

"Yes." Derek said matter of factly.

"I don't believe you."

"Have I given you reason not to?" Derek tried to pretend to be at least slightly offended.

"You and Scott don't talk. You posture and-and-and growl at each other like territorial dogs." Derek raised his brows, giving the boy a chance to restate. "You know what I mean." Derek rolled his eyes. "Promise me." Shit...

"Stiles..." The boy shrugged.

"Two little words and I'll drop it and trust you." Derek sighed and let his eyes wonder. He could lie, it would be easy. This was a pack matter. Scot wasn't his, but he'd been abandoned by the alpha that killed his sister. Derek had a responsibility to do what he had to to take care of him, to keep his secret. It was worth it. But he had refused th let what he was ruin his life... Yes, Laura was dead now, and Stiles was just some kid, but he liked him, and he didn't want to ruin whatever it was they had. Then again, was he really gonna do much more than threaten the kid?? Maybe put him to a wall, but eh... He wouldn't do much more than talk...

"I promise I won't hurt him... Just a friendly conversation... More or less." Derek nodded returning a cool gaze to Stiles, who really needed to stop staring at his lips like that...

"More or less?" Stiles asked skeptically.

"I won't hurt him. Why is that not the part you focus on??" Stiles crossed his arms, reminding Derek of how Laura used to.

"You promise?" Derek nodded curtly.

"I promise." Stiles relaxed a bit. Derek hesitated when Stiles stepped into his arms, but he found himself automatically leaning in to press his lips to Stiles' for no other reason than it felt right. He knew it shouldn't have but it did; it felt safe, and he had to fight instinct not to back Stiles against the blue jeep. Still though Stiles didn't pull away. That is, until an athorative voice broke the scilence of the parking lot, and they both quickly stepped back.

"Mister Stilinski, there is no fraternizing allowed on school grounds." The man bit, standing a few feet away in what Derek assumed was his car. As Stiles cleared his throat, Derek took notice that the man, most likely a teacher, was glaring venomously at him. Derek, not Stiles.

"Yes, Mr. Harris, accident, won't happen again..." The man returned a flat, stern, almost glare to Stiles once he started talking.

"... I should hope not. Like wise, you should both keep from loitering any longer..." Derek couldn't tell whether the man was protective, or just a dick. Stiles nodded though.

"RIght, yep..." He turned back to Derek, cheeks adorably red. "I'll see you I guess..." Derek nodded and moved to let Stiles get into the cab of his Jeep. "Um, do you want a ride.

Yes! "No, I'll walk..." Stiles nodded from the other side of the open window.

"Right, okay... I'll text you. Uh, remember, promised." Derek nodded, smiling. Stiles backed out. Derek was ready to leave but paused as the silence broke once again.

"Are you seeing that boy?" Derek turned to the man, giving a controlled smile.

"I don't know what you mean." The man didn't back down.

"I'm asking your intentions." Derek shook his head innocently.

"I'm not one to typically have intentions." The man glared even firmer than his voice.

"I feel responsible to warn you... He may not have many friends... It may seem like he has no one... That he's safe for you to get away with hurting him however you like... But that boy there, has a way of imprinting on people...-" Derek straightened up a bit.

"Am I being threatened?" The man faltered slightly.

"If you were to hurt him, I'd be the least of your worries..." Derek gave a small angered smile.

"And why would you think I have any intention of hurting him?" The man looked him up and down and studied the features of Derek's face.

"Because you carry yourself like a predator on the hunt, calculating your every move and every word..." Derek smile faltered. "I'm just letting you know... The pain you inflict, it'll always come back to you." Derek nodded, and turned to leave.

"I sincerely hope that's true."

Chapter Text

Tuesday, Dean and Sam started by taking the day to look into Beacon Hills history in the crap they got from various sources on Monday. Sam made some stupid remark that he hoped the house was cheap because, wow. There was no lack of the supernatural here. Dean had called Chris and he said they'd lived there when they were younger, but had only just moved back from San Francisco.

A little research into the town and surrounding area's past, and Dean found a record of animal attacks. Mostly against animals, but always around full moons. There was one particular account of a human being attacked. A young girl. It wasn't an all-out mauling, as the girl was still recognizable, but according to the article she died too soon to receive medical attention due to some allergic reaction, probably combined with shock. Attacked in the woods, supposedly. Seemed sketchy, but the news article didn't have much more about it, so they'd have to look into it another time.

As for the aim of their search, the Hale estate wasn't lacking in information either. The Hale's were a prominent and powerful family in the Beacon Hills area for as far back in the records as Sam could find. Dean couldn't understand what exactly their business was. They were known as geniuses when it came to investing properly, and they'd helped build the entire town. But they had the business fingerprints of a mob. Threads tied everything in the town and in the area to the Hale estate with no distinct business belonging solely to them, until a few years ago when almost the entire Hale family was murdered in a fire at their estate on the other side of town in the woods. Papers later mention that the police confirmed it was arson, but they could see it just looking at the article, and the pictures. Between how much and how hot the place seemed to burn, and the fact that no one was able to escape, it was obvious the place must have been drenched in some kind of accelerant. That made Dean doubt it had happened when the paper had said, when the surviving children of the matriarch, a Miss Talia Hale, were at school. The only way you were going to cover a house in gas like that was if you did it at night.

That still didn't explain how no one got out. No one had even died outside. Approximately 9 dead, 2 injured, and not one person made it out. It didn't make any sense. That is until Sam noticed an odd black almost circular pattern of black dirt or ash around the house in photos from the scene. Upon further examination, they found similar lines at doors and windows, as if they had been salted. They decided to ask Chris if there was any such similar routine whenever they got the chance to see him. They got up from their seats as Stiles came down the stairs, seemingly in a huff, nearly dinner time. "Hey kid. School alright?" Stiles gave a huff, fidgeting in an annoyed fashion.

"Yeah, school's fine. Uh, there's a game Saturday, if you guys want to go. I might not play, 'cause, ya know, I suck and what not, but hey in case everyone else gets brutally injured and I do have the misfortune of playing... and it's a great family bonding opportunity. Melissa might be going, although we don't know if Scott should play considering what happened at practice yesterday..." Dean tilted his head.

"Has he told his mom about it yet??" Sam furrowed his eyebrows and spoke up before Stiles could answer.

"Wait. What happened at practice yesterday??" Stiles got an oh shit kind of look and Dean narrowed his eyes on the boy.

"Stiles, what happened at practice yesterday?"

"Oh.... Nothing..." Stiles tried to say casually, but Dean glared more and Stiles decided that was apparently the time to fold. "Just... Scott might have found out Allison's dad tried to kill him, and he may have panicked just a little, and in practice another kid might have been a bit rough, to fuck with him, and coach made him try the shot again, and... um... and you know Scott is such an overachiever and is just like starved for approval.... um.... Now, just pointing this out, I really think he wasn't trying to be any rougher than Jackson was with him, but... Scott kind of checked him and fucked up his shoulder." Dean gave a careful nod, but Stiles continues. "And... Now, I could stop there but for the sake of openness, I'm not... Uh, I took Scott into the locker room to make sure he was okay, and um... he wasn't for a moment, I think. He turned, just a little. But, but I sprayed him with a fire extinguisher and he was fine, and I doubt he was going to hurt me, he really seemed more like playful, um, but when you've got claws, being playfully predatorish really isn't safe, I know, and so we were thinking..." Dean felt a bit of rage, but he took a deep breath, settling that it was good that Stiles would tell them, and that if he responded with anger, it might discourage the boys coming to them with problems in the future. Dean nodded as Stiles trailed off.

"He shouldn't play until he can control his anger..." Sam said in both of their place. "We'll have to work on that then... Hopefully by the next one, he'll be able to, but you guys are right, there's no time to prepare now. He should talk to your guys' coach, see if he can get out of it this time." Dean nodded, agreeing with Sam, and Stiles nodded after.

"That's the game plan..." Stiles joked a tad bitterly before sighing. "Scott is trying to get Coach to let him out of it, but he might lose first line if he doesn't. He knows how important it is to sit out if he can't keep it together though... I suggested breaking his arm or something, but he didn't think it would work, but we're workin' on it." Dean shrugged, seeing why Scott disagreed.

"So, what's up with your social life? I mean, your actual social life, excluding family." Dean only realized as Stiles was about to answer, that he referred to Scott as Stiles' family. And Stiles didn't pay it mind. It was true that Scott was the closest thing to family Stiles had. Even them, as his adopted parents, had only known him a couple weeks. But Stiles being so comfortable with Scott being called family, Dean knew it spoke to how close they were before Scott was all Stiles had. How close their families must have been. Dean saw, Stiles' dad must have seen Scott as a second son, enough to probably call the kid family too. This of course didn't surprise Dean. He knew Scott and Stiles had known each other since kindergarten, and had been attached at the hip since. But it was just one of those moments where Dean got to look right into Stiles' past, and it made him happy when he saw he was doing things right. Like when Stiles would get that all too familiar look of fear when he thought Dean would get angry about something, and that look of relief Dean never had the chance to give; not until he met Bobby anyway. He knew Stiles loved his dad, and they'd patched things up, and he was a better man before he'd died, but that look was still there, and it put tears pushing at his eyelids to know he was could ever be to Stiles what Bobby was to him. Dean couldn't be Stiles' dad, but he could be like a father to him, and if he could be that, why would he ever want to be his dad? Stiles was slightly perky as he spoke.

"I got invited to Allison's for a sleepover tomorrow, and I know I'm grounded, but given it is Allison, and apparently you guys know her dad, I figured it wouldn't be a big deal. And Lydia's going to be there, she's actually the one who invited me, and she said she wanted to get to know me better, please, Dean, you can't be so heartless as to say no!" Dean crossed his arms.

"Okay few questions. First of all, You're going to a girl's slumber party? Not only that but your best friend's girlfriend's slumber party, who's father apparently shot at you not a week ago? He saw your car, Stiles." Stiles gave a set of big doe eyes and shrugged.

"Right, so obviously I'd be stupid to try anything with anyone. And Allison is like you said Scott's girlfriend, so I especially won't try anything with her. And Lydia apparently told Mr. Argent I was dating Derek, so he probably thinks I'm gay, not bi." Knowing the feeling, Dean nodded. “And I figured I could maybe get a ride from one of you guys, or with Lydia, or walk, or something.”

"And who is Lydia??" Stiles nodded.

"As Sam knows, Lydia, who my nightshade plant is named after, is a girl I have had a crush on since 3rd grade, who only just noticed me when I snuck out to go to her party, which again, I'm sorry, I'm stupid and I love you guys, please let me go, please." Dean nodded.

"What happened to you and Mr. Handsome Von Too-Old-For-You?" Stiles scoffed.

"Well, if all this stuff is about you checking Derek out you can put it back where you found it, I don't think that's going to work out." Sam's look of confusion matched his.

"What?" Dean said more than asked. But Sam genuinely seemed concerned.

"Why??" Stiles rolled his eyes and gave a very angry sigh.

"We had an argument." Sam sighed in relief and Dean rolled his eyes in disappointment. "What?" Dean shook his head with a smirk.

"Hey Sam, remember that time me a Cas had an argument?" Sam scoffed.

"The one where you called him a baby in a trench coat, or the one where he threatened to throw you back into hell?" Dean nodded. “Or that time you slept with his sister?”

“Hey, woah, that was- I can- it’s- very, very complicated. Definitely not how it sounds. I don’t even think Cas knew ab-“ Cas called out from the kitchen, cutting Dean off.

“I did, and I do, Dean Winchester!” Dean’s face gave the slightest hint of fear at how Cas used his full name.

“Sorry, babe!” Dean called back. When Cas called back they could hear the smirk in his voice.

“I don’t know why you’d feel you need to apologize to me, it’s your mother she tried to kill.” Stiles gave a questioning look.

“That’s a real low blow, angel.” Dean called back, but didn’t give a comeback.

“Love you too.” Cas replied before going back to whatever he was doing. Stiles rolled his eyes and gave a sigh.

“The argument was because he got in an argument with Scott.” Sam and Dean’s expression were suddenly more serious.

“Oh.” Stiles nodded.

"Oh is right. If the jerk is gonna be an ass to my friends, I'm not interested. Except maybe in kicking his ass." Stiles huffed, knowing as well as Sam and Dean (if not better) he didn't have the ability. Sam nodded trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Kind of a 'if ya wanna be my lover you gotta get with my friends' kinda thing." Stiles shrugged a confirmation, nodding softly, but Dean objected loudly.

"Ah, no, hey, whoa. Can we not use that word?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"... Lover?" Dean sneered at the word.

"Yeah, it's creepy and weird." Sam smirked.

"I've never heard you have any problem with it before." Dean grunted, considering going back to research. Even if Stiles and Derek were off for the time being, there was a lot of disturbing information getting turned up about the town. That and Dean wasn't convinced Stiles and Derek were done for good, and given what they were finding (none of which colored Dean anything close to pleased), they'd need to have a bit of a talk with this kid.

"Yeah, well when referencing my ward and his weird, creepy, ten years younger than me guy friend, I'm gonna reserve the right to call it a special occasion." Sam scoffed out a laugh, ignoring that Stiles phone had started to vibrate, indicating he was receiving a call.

"Wonder how many dads have said similar about you?" Sam said nodding to Stiles and the boy waved before hurrying off back upstairs.

Chapter Text

Stiles' let his anger bubble up in his stomach as he climbed the stairs, asnwering as soon as he closed the door. "You've got a lot of nerve fucking calling me!" He hissed into the phone. "I have half a mind to kick your ass! Of course the other half is the smart half but- wai- Hello? Hello?!" He squinted at the bright screen in the dark of his room, that was indicating the call had ended. "You did not seriously hang up on me!" He muttered quietly at the phone.

"Sorry about that." Stiles turned quickly as he heard the unexpected voice, whipping his phone at the intruder in shock. Of course the criminal delinquent of a werewolf caught it, as apparently he was used to breaking into people's houses. Derek, though, gave him a scolding look. "Throw your phone out your window, sure, that'll be fun to explain." Stiles huffed, seething as he hissed at Derek even quieter now.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing here?! What part of 'You asshole, I can't believe you'd do that, if you're going to beat up my friends I never want to see your face again' makes you think breaking into my room is a good idea?!" Derek rolled his eyes, staying by the window as Stiles came into the room more.

"That's why. You haven't read any of my texts. Would it kill you to let me explain?" Stiles huffed, flicking on the lamp by his bed.

"I don't know, I guess it would depend on what kind of mood you're in." Derek sighed, taking a step.

"Stiles..." Stiles whipped around to face him again.

"Don't you 'Stiles' me!! You promised me! You knew how hesitant I was about you talking to Scott, and this is what you pull!"

"I promised I wouldn't hurt him and I didn't. I understand that you're Scott's friend, Stiles, but this is a pack issue. You coddling him isn't helping. He needs firm guidance from someone who knows what it's like. I did what I had to, to help." Stiles shook his head in outrage, still trying to keep his voice down.

"You didn't help, you threatened to kill him! What do you think that helped?!" Derek stayed firm in his resolve.

"He was too worried about what would happen if he didn't play. He needed motivation not to, so I gave it to him. He needed to understand the danger of him playing, not just to him, or the other team but everyone." Stiles started flailing a bit, but he kept his voice down, so Derek let it be.

"I told you he knew it was dangerous to play, that he knew he shouldn't. Even though he wanted to play, he didn't want to risk hurting anyone ! Even Jackson, who wholeheartedly deserved it. He didn't need you to put pressure on him! Stressing him more isn't helpful, it's counterproductive! All those consequences of not playing don't disappear just because he thinks you'll hurt him if he plays, which by the way, if you even think of following through on, you will have to get through me." Derek shook his head.

"I would never do anything more than keep him from playing, Stiles. I'm not trying to hurt him, I just don't want him to get himself in trouble."

"All you've done is get him into more trouble!" Derek gave Stiles a questioning look.

"How??" Stiles sighed.

"Of course, because of your threat he rushed off today to try to tell our coach he couldn't play Saturday, with no explanation he could give as to why. How do you think that went?" Derek lowered his gaze, knowing exactly how it must've went, knowing how coaches could be, having gone through the same himself as a teen. "If you hadn't scared the shit out of him, we could've come up with a way to get him out of the game, or at least have gotten him to the point that he could play, try to have as little to do with the game as possible, and be okay. But now coach is gonna be suspicious if he doesn't play. Maybe even kick him off the team if for some reason he doesn't play. And we can't even work on Scott's control because it's all gonna be for nothing if he's freaking out the entire game that either you're gonna kill him for playing, or at any second he could murder everyone there, even if he's just standing on the feild avoiding participating." Derek nodded, giving a sigh.

"I get it, Stiles.... I get it. I overreacted. I didn't think. I'm sorry." Stiles seemed to calm down at that. "I'll fix this. I'll get him out of the game." Stiles snapped attention back on Derek incredulously.

"And how do you think you'll do that?"

"I'll talk to his coach." Stiles scoffed.

"I think you talking to people has gotten you into enough trouble." Derek shook his head.

"No, Stiles, I mean it. Let me handle this. I'll come up with something to get the guy to let Scott out of playing." Stiles actually laughed.

"Oh you will?"

"Yes." Derek insisted, willing Stiles to give him a second chance.

"How's that?"

"I'll... I'll say we're family. Death in the family, Scott's distraught, the funeral is that day, out of town, whatever." Stiles stared at him a few moments, before giving a sigh and sitting on the bed.

"Fine... But only if Scott's okay with it-" Derek nodded quickly.

"Course." Stiles continues, glaring dully.

" And he goes with you, to make sure you don't throw our coach into a wall." Derek looked away, giving a huff but nodded.

"Right... Alright." Stiles nodded seeming pleased with it. He motioned Derek over and he was surprised a second, even hesitant before he stepped over.

"Uh... Stiles...?" Stiles glared up at him again.

"Oh, please, you wish! The phone. I have to call Scott." Derek nodded, feeling like an idiot as he handed over Stiles' phone. Stiles huffed as he turned it back on, unlocking it. "Still have a quarter of a mind to kick your ass." Derek huffed, but stayed quiet as the phone rang.

"Hey Stiles..." Scott said through the phone as Stiles put it on speaker. Stiles smiled.

"Hey, bud, how we doin'?" There was an awkward amount of silence for a long moment.

"Stiles, why does it sound like there's someone there who's holding their breath?" Stiles looked to Derek and back at the phone and back to Derek once more.

"You definitely heard the shotgun thing, that's why you ran off, wasn't it? I swear-" Derek shook his head staring wide eyed at Stiles.

"I left way before anything about shotguns, I promise." Scott's yelled in a whisper through the phone, probably trying not to alert his mother to the conversation.

"STILES, WHERE ARE YOU, WHY ARE YOU WITH DEREK?!" Stiles sighed.

"I'm at home, he broke in to talk, I tore him a new one, and he still wants to help." Scott huffed into the phone.

"Stiles!! Get Dean!! Derek's dangerous, you shouldn't be near him!!" Stiles paused for a second letting that sink on Derek for a second while also letting Scott calm down a second.

"Yeah, Scott buddy, you are on speaker-phone, just puttin' it out there."

"Oh." Scott said, pausing a moment. "Hi, Derek..." Derek nodded and cleared his throat.

"Scott." He sighed. "Sorry... if I was a little harsh..." Scott vaguely sounded like he was glaring on the other end.

" A little.... " Derek looked to Stiles before continuing.

"Stiles told me what happened with your coach. He won't let you out of the game?" Derek tried to sound as understanding as he could. After a good few seconds of silence, Scott sighed.

"I tried to tell him I couldn't play. He wouldn't even listen to me. He got all suspicious of why I didn't want to play. He asked me if I was addicted to drugs... If I don't play I'm afraid he's gonna kick me off the team completely..." Derek nodded.

"I can try to talk to him. Get him to let you not play."

"How are you gonna do that? Throw him into a wall too?" Derek narrowed his eyes.

"No! To everyone's apparent surprise, I am capable of having a conversation with someone!" He took a breath before continuing. "As I told Stiles, I figured I'd just say we were family, and you were close to Laura."

"Laura??" Scott questioned through the phone. Derek swallowed, realizing only Stiles had known about her.

"My sister, who died recently." He sighed. "She was the girl they found in the park actually..." Stiles' jaw dropped for a moment before he set his hand on Derek's shoulder.

"Derek, I'm so sorry." Scott spoke up after a moment.

"You'd really do that?? Pretend I'm your family to help me out of trouble??" Derek nodded.

"Of course, Scott, don't be ridiculous. You're pack, you practically are family." He cleared his throat. "Stiles said he wants you to come with me though, to make sure I don't handle it violently..." Scott was quiet another minute.

"Fine. It's worth a shot..." Stiles smiled.

"Awesome! So, you too can handle that, while I'm at Allison's tomorrow." Derek's attention whipped to Stiles.

"... Scott's girlfriend 'Allison'?"

"Yeah." Stiles nodded. Derek's eyes were wide.

"Why will you be at her place??"

"Her friend Lydia invited me to their sleepover Wednesday."

"Stiles, her father shot at you, at all of us. You can't be serious." Stiles huffed.

"He didn't see my face, I'm not taking the Jeep, and Dean knows the guy. He's not going to hurt me." Scott cut in.

"Can I go now??"

"You don't know that. Hunters can be very cruel and unstable people, Stiles. If he thinks you're a threat in any way he might hurt or even murder you without a second thought. And you're going to be sleeping in the same room as his daughter." Stiles shook his head.

"He's letting me over because Lydia mentioned I was dating you." Derek stiffened at that.

"Did she say you were dating me , or dating a guy? Did she give him my name?" Stiles nearly jumped at Derek's near panic.

"I don't know! I- I don't think I mentioned your last name, so I mean, probably not? Why? Do you know him??" Derek sighed.

"Not really, but he's aware of who I am... The Hales were a big deal, especially after the fire. If he's from around here, I would guess he knows about us." Stiles shook his head.

"They're not from here. They're from San Francisco. They just got in." Derek nodded, giving a breath of relief.

"Well, good... but... try to avoid the topic around him..." Stiles nodded, looking back to the phone, blinking at the contact page.

"Scotty hung up on us..." Derek nodded.

"He did." Stiles nodded, putting the phone down.

"Well..." Derek nodded.

"So... Are you... less angry?" Stiles lean onto Derek's shoulder instead of answering.

"You're an ass..." He laughed. Derek sighed.

"I just trying to figure out if I'm getting a good night kiss, you're the one being difficult." Stiles smirked at the older man.

"Oh, is that so?" Derek kissed Stiles' head giving a 'mm-hmm' in response. Stiles somehow managed to easily switch positions to straddling Derek in only a couple seconds. "More clear?" Derek smiled, leaning in without a word to kiss the young man. He pulled back every few seconds just enough to barely breathe. He considered stopping things there about a minute after Stiles had introduced tongue and he realized the situation was becoming difficult.

"Stiles..." He whined, though it did him no good, not having the will power to pull away. He was downright entranced with the way Stiles moved his lips. So entranced he hardly heard the footsteps before they were at the door. They only pulled away at the last second, though it didn't really help the situation. They both looked like deer caught in headlights. "Mr. Winchester! Hi... Nice to see you again." Derek swallowed as Dean took a singe step to the closet and pulled out what seemed to be a shotgun. Dean smiled dangerously at them when he turned back.

"Hi, Derek. You've got 30 seconds to get away from my kid and get the hell off my property before, in the words of a man I think of as my own dad, 'I blast you so full of rock-salt that you'll be crapping margaritas'." Derek nodded, panicking once again (although happy it was only rock salt), Stiles already jumping off him. He rushed to give Stiles one last kiss before hauling ass out the window.

Chapter Text

Dean took a few minutes to take stock of the trunk before they left to drop Stiles off, and to swing by the address Chris had given them for the old Hale residence. They found the Hales were likely a bit more than they seemed, and with a call to the more local hunter, he comfirmed the Hales had been the largest pack on the West Coast. While, according to Chris, he had just been being introduced to hunting around that time and thus didn't have much if anything to do with communications with "peaceful packs" in the area, he had heard many the whispered words about the pack, and after the unfortunate fire, about the Hale family. All Chris had heard about the fire through the many grapevines he had access to, the fire was rumored at the time to be the work of a rival pack envious of the Hales' stronghold in Beacon Hills. While their fellow Hunter expressed sympathy for the victims, when they brought up the survivors, he encouraged their suspicious, bringing up all on his own that many at the time, both hunter and supernatural, expressed wonder over the convenience of Derek Hale's absence at the time of the fire. While they weren't about to assume the poor kid had too much to do with it, they admitted it was sketchy, and Chris seemed to feel the same, though going a step further to say. "My hope for peace with monters died with that family." Yeah.... Chris.... Chris was a real' chipper guy. Dean popped the few beers into the cooler they kept in the trunk and closed it, securing the lock and brushing a bit of dirt off his baby. He returned from the garage just as Sam and Stiles made their way down stairs, and he slunk over to Cas where he was laying on the couch. He started at his husband's temple and kissed his way down to his neck.

"Hey" He quipped, nuzzling the angel, who groaned in return.

"Hey..." Cas responded exhaustedly.

"We're heading out. You good?" Cas squinted up at him, before sighing and giving a nod.

"I suppose it would be a waste of time to ask you to behave yourself." Dean smirked, ducking down to give one more kiss.

"When have I ever not behaved myself?" Cas raised his eyebrows. "Okay, fair enough, we'll try." Cas nodded.

"Just don't get arrested. Or cause us to have to move, change our names, or change your facial features. Crowley went through a lot to make US law enforcement forget we exist, and he has barely stopped complaining." Dean laughed and nodded, ignoring Crowley as he started muttering in the far chair.

"Alright, Babe, love you."

"Love you too." Cas grumbled, rolling over as the three of them meandered out to the garage, and Stiles struggled between his things and his phone.

"Yeah, I'm heading out right now.-- Yes. -- Yes, I get it.-- Oh my god, I'LL BE FINE. WILL YOU PLEASE CHILL? -- Scott, I'm going to be with Allison and Lydia all night, everything's going to be fine. -- Oh my god, really? Really Scott? You aren't going to trust me ? -- Apology accepted. -- Kay, I'll talk to you later okay? -- Yes, I'll tell her you said hi. -- Got it. Bye." Stiles only hung up as they were pulling out of the garage and onto the dirt and gravel driveway.

"Hey, Dean, thanks again for letting me go over to Allison's." Stiles offered sweetly. Dean cocked an eyebrow at Stiles in the rearview mirror.

"Hey, no problem. Probably safer there than in your own room apparently... Seeing as Chris sure as hell isn't going to hesitate to shoot the bastard- I mean Derek." Stiles turned wide eyes to the window, not wanting to even get close to making eye contact.

"Of course we're still not over that..." Dean shook his head.

"We aren't talking about it." Stiles shuttered at the thought.

"You brought it up." Dean nodded.

"And I'm deciding we're gonna drop it again." Dean grimaced. "Still grossed out." Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please! Like it was any worse than having to watch you and Cas constantly maul each other. You two are like a living erotic novel, I swear." Sam smirked, not wanting to interrupt to point out how right Stiles was. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you guys are hot and adorable and I'm happy for ya, but it is awkward." Dean glared dully at the mirror.

"Not as awkward as walking in on my adopted child making out with some guy ten years older than him." Stiles nodded.

"I'll give you that." Dean nodded back as they drove through town.

"Damn right you will. I still can't believe you talked me into letting you get away with that." Stiles shrugged.

"Well, you did say I could see him and even that he could sneak in, you just said you'd shoot him if he didn't flee the property." They turned up the road towards the Argents' house.

"Yes, I remember your sweaty, stuttered lecture on why I shouldn't nail your window shut." Sam raised an eyebrow at that. Stiles smiled proudly.

"I even argued it was a fire hazard. It was pretty good for having not had a lot of blood flow to my brain." Sam laughed, undoing his seatbelt as they pulled onto the paved driveway.

"I've never been prouder." Sam said, looking back at Stiles, to insure the boy knew he was only partly joking. They shared a smile before following Dean out of the car and up to the house. The elder Winchester knocked before Sam and Stiles were even to the door, giving a whistle.

"Delivery, anybody home?!" It wasn't too long before the door was being opened, the salt and pepper haired man grinning at them.

"Winchester, almost worried you'd developed some class." Chris laughed, welcoming the three in, pulling the blonde in for a hug. Dean's grin was almost as big, as he sighed happily.

"Ah, you handsome son of a bitch, how the hell ya been? Haven't seen you in... what?" Chris gave a sigh himself.

"Damn near ten- eleven years I wanna say. You were working that haunt in Oregon, or just finishing up judging by how beat up you'd been." Dean nodded, smile going nostalgic.

"Seriously, how ya been? Family life treating you well?" Chris shrugged, but nodded as well.

"Not getting as much excitement these days, but still about as much as I'm looking for. What about you? Am I to understand the infamous Dean Winchester actually got hitched?" Dean went back to grinning.

"Yeah, been together a couple years now, married spring before last. Crazy about him." Chris gave a soft smile, and Sam found himself wondering how well the two actually knew each other.

"He sounds very special... and lucky." The two drew back a bit, letting the reunion die down. "Not only married, a whole family, huh? You must be Stiles." Stiles nodded giving a smile.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Argent." Not a second later had the girls made their way down the stairs to greet their guests, and Dean tried not to give any indication he was impressed.

"Hey, Stiles." A young brunette welcomed. The redhead though, pulled at Stiles' clothes.

"Do you always dress like this??" Stiles was understandably caught off guard.

"When wearing clothes, generally, yeah? Why??" The girl shrugged, though not seeming terribly displeased. She turned her attention to Sam and Dean, and it was their turn to be taken aback. Had a 16 year old really just checked them out?

"Stiles, introduce your friends." She drawled. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

"This is my foster dad- or one of my foster dads- Dean, and his brother Sam..." He pointed indicatively. "They know Allison's dad, so they figured they'd give me a ride, drop in." Dean nodded. So this was the infamous Lydia. The enthusiasm on her face died down a bit.

"Oh. Well, like father like son I suppose, hm?" She said smiling back at Stiles. Stiles gave a bit of a nervous chuckle. Dean nodded, mind being set back on task.

"Right, well you ladies keep him outta trouble for us, kay?" Lydia turned her eyes back onto Dean and smiled.

"Of course, Dean. You guys have a great night, we'll take good care of Stiles." With that she started pulling the young man towards the stairs. "I think we're gonna look at some clothes online for you." Stiles almost sounded offended.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Lydia looked back and shrugged again, the same look of mild disagreement on her face.

"Not too much..." the two quietly bickered about that as the three of them fled up the stairs. Dean smiled to Christopher one last time.

"Thanks for taking him off our hands. Sure you won't come?" Chris shook his head, grinning.

"And leave Dean Winchester's son more or less alone with my daughter? You're delusional." He gave them a nod as they turned to leave. "Let me know how it goes..." He said, seeming unsure but serious. Dean waved once they were finally pulling out of the driveway. Sam only shifted his eyes to Dean once they were down the road, on their way across town.

"You two seem close..." Dean glanced over, quick to return his eyes to the road.

"Not really." Sam just shrugged.

"Well, you don't hug a lot of people... and it's not like he's a family friend or anything..." Dean huffed.

"Yeah, well... we've worked a few jobs, saved my ass a few too many times. You've got a problem with it, speak up." Sam was quick to shake his head.

"We've definitely established I have absolutely no problem with... anything." Dean sighed as trees started to surround them as they drove up the road.

"I'm only saying it once: drop it, Sammy. It's been a decade since I even saw the guy, we're not digging up a dead horse." Sam rolled his eyes, but nodded.

"Fine, be that way then..." Sam watched the forest around them as if it was out to get them once Dean turned onto the dirt trail that supposedly led to where they were trying to get to. Soon enough they did indeed roll up beside the burnt up house from the news papers, although now it was slightly more decayed from age, despite the surprising lack of vandalism. Sam waited for Dean to cut the engine and exit the car before following. They looked around the property from where they stood by the car, thinking the same thing, searching for movement in the woods before turning their gaze to the house. "Think he's here?" Dean shook his head, eyes still searching the house for signs of life as he followed Sam to the back end of the Impala.

"Nah... He'd come on out if he was... Besides, you can't tell me a rich 20-something isn't gonna have some kinda transportation, even if he is a werewolf... " He scoffed leaning against his Baby. "Hell, Garth's got a mini-van." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Garth's got three kids, Dean." The blond just huffed.

"Yeah, well, wouldn't catch me dead with one..." Sam shook his head.

"Where do you think he is?" Dean shrugged.

"Who knows." After a few minutes, Sam sighed.

"Are you sure Stiles said he was staying here?"

"Pretty sure."

"How sure is pretty sure?" Dean rolled his own eyes now.

"Pretty damn sure..." Sam groaned internally.

"I'm just saying-" Dean cut him off.

"Shhh." Sam gaped at his brother.

"Will you grow uh-" Dean put a finger to his lips, then pointing to his ears.

"Car coming..." Sam took a breath, giving a listen..... Dean was right. He could hear a engine roaring up the old forest path. He shot Dean a look and a nod. Dean popped the trunk and Sam pulled the cooler forward, tossing Dean one of the beers. Once Sam got his own, Dean lowered the trunk, just slightly leaving it ajar. Sam chose not to twist the top off his beer until the black Camaro pulled up in front of them and purred to a rest. Dean took the initiative to take out a third bottle as Derek cautiously got out of his car, though trying to be casual as he came up to his own headlights. "Hey, kid. Have a beer." Derek caught the beer with ease, but looked between it and them with a distrust that upset Sam's stomach a bit. Dean just shook his head. "If I wanted you dead, I'd just shoot you. It's safe." Derek studied the beer for a second before glancing back up at them.

"And you're showing up at my house for a surprise happy hour because?" Dean gave his most unconvincing innocent act.

"What? I can't come by to have a little chat with my son's boyfriend?" Derek raised both eyebrows in mock surprise.

"I'm touched. I was under the impression you disliked me." Dean pursed his lips shaking his head.

"No, not at all... As far as we can tell you've helped Scott and Stiles out of a fair bit of trouble." Sam shrugged, impersonal but unintimidating.

"Or you've caused a lot of it." Dean gave a side nod agreeing with Sam. Derek looked away, seeming hurt, maybe even betrayed. When he looked back his face didn't feign friendliness.

"What, Scott rat me out?" Sam could see the young man's eyes narrow in familiar pain at the idea that played through his mind. "Or was it Stiles?" While Sam could understand the pain of worrying a loved one betrayed you, he couldn't help but be pissed that Derek would presume that of Stiles, who likely wouldn't have given Derek up no matter what the cost. While he kept his tone soft enough, his eyes couldn't help but glare at least for a second.

"They didn't say a thing... We figured it out on our own." Dean smirked.

"As if it was difficult." Dean gave a wave of his hand. "Look, We're not looking to be dicks. We don't wanna start anything just 'cause you're a werewolf." Derek rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm sure..." Dean raised his eyebrows at Derek's disbelief.

"Hey, one of our best friends is a 'wolf. If I haven't shot you for yesterday, safe bet I'm not gonna shoot you for something as stupid as that." Dean shrugged. "We'll even be respectful and be up front about it: all we wanna know is if you were the one who bit Scott..." Derek sighed, twisting the top off the beer.

"No. I'm not an alpha. Typically only an alpha can turn someone." Sam nodded.

"Scott said the one who turned him had red eyes... Would you mind telling us what color eyes you have when you turn?" Derek paused. He took a swig of the beer before closing his eyes. He let them flare and opened them. The hunters could admit they almost jumped. Dean nodded first some part of him relieved.

"Good. Glad that's settled." Dean nodded, but cocked his head. "I hate to tell ya, but I did lie a bit. There- There is something else. Obviously." Derek steeled his shoulders, looking solely at Dean, ready to hear what he was going to say, and Sam decided to stay out of it. This wasn't his business strictly speaking, and he didn't want to intervene if he didn't have to. "To be honest, I don't want you anywhere near Stiles." Derek seemed to be actively trying not to glare.

"And that has nothing to do with me being a werewolf?" Dean nodded.

"I think that you being a werewolf is going to put him in danger and trouble I don't want him in.... Don't act like I'm being irrational, because we both know that's bull. We have enough to worry about with Scott." Sam could see Derek was biting his cheek trying not to say anything. "And there are other reasons too. I'm aware Stiles is a rebellious kid, and he's gonna do what he wants, and young love, blah blah blah. I get it, I do. And I get it if you wanna refuse to dump him, wanna tell me to go fuck myself... But I'll tell you right now, if you want to stay with him, he will be your responsibility. And if you let him get hurt, or if he gets hurt because of you... I will very literally put you through hell, and I will not bat an eyelash. And you're still welcome to come over Sunday. But if you do, you'll be accepting that responsibility." Derek seemed to relax only slightly, a whole different tension taking him over. "Am I understood?" Derek met Dean's eyes and gave a slow steady nod.

"I understand..." Dean nodded once more, giving a sigh.

"Good..." Dean took a sip of his beer, and Derek and Sam copied in turn. Dean gestured behind Derek. "Beautiful ride." Derek glanced to his car.

"Thanks. I like the classic look they've kept with the Camaro in the recent models..." He looked back and gestured to Baby.

"But talk about a beauty. '67, Impala's best year." Dean just grinned, petting the smooth black paint he laid with his own hands.

"Ah, hell yeah." Dean looked back, genuine smile as he waxed about his car. "I've rebuilt her more times than I can count..." Derek nodded.

"Must be tough finding her parts."

Chapter Text

"Where were you?! I was starting to think you wouldn't come!" Derek rolled his eyes as he walked up to the school. He rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt as Scott huffed and glared in his panic. Derek gave him a look.

"Scott... Calm down. I said I'd be here, I'm here." Scott flailed a bit, following Derek inside.

"That's all you can say!?" Derek sighed.

"Dean and Sam were at my house when I got back from the store. They delayed me a bit." Scott's eyes went wide a second.

"Are you okay?! What did they want?? Do they know?! We didn't say anything about you, Derek, swear." Derek shook his head, feeling slightly guilty for assuming one of them had told the hunters about him.

"Yes. They were making sure I wasn't the one who bit you. Yes, they know. And I know you didn't. I asked." Scott started breathing heavy, heart speeding up in turn.

"How'd they even find out?? This is bad isn't it??" Derek turned and took Scott by the shoulders.

"It's fine. Stop panicking, I can take care of myself." Scott backed down from the point of panic where he probably would have turned, but still seemed a nervous wreck.

"They already don't like you though. What if-" Derek stayed firm.

"They won't." Scott bit his lip.

"But-" Derek shook he head.

"I'm keeping my head down. They have no reason to. It'll be fine." Scott nodded, though still fidgeting as they walked the mostly empty High School hall.

"What if Coach still-?" Derek shrugged.

"Then, like I said, I'll just have to kill you." He rolled his eyes as Scott jumped. "I'm kidding Scott. It'll be fine, we'll get you out of it." Scott just huffed.

"That's not funny!!" Derek gave a scoff.

"No, but your reaction is." That earned Derek a glare, but too soon were they at Coach's office, and Derek was knocking. He smiled giving a nod once the shorter older man opened the door. He nodded to Scott.

"McCall..." He looked to Derek. "And you are...?" Scott spoke up before Derek could.

"Oh, uh, this is my... Cousin, Derek..." Finstock nodded, and stage whispered to Scott.

"Right... And... why are you two here?" Derek took over as Scott got nervous and stammered.

"Scott said there was an issue with his inability to play Saturday, and I figured there was some miscommunication and that I should come in to explain..." Finstock motioned them into his office and they followed.

"Feel free..." Derek sat down and waited for Scott to awkwardly do the same before he started.

"Mr. Finstock- Can I call you Robert?" The coach gave a dismissive wave of his hand as he sat on the other side of his desk.

"Bob's fine." Derek continued, giving a smile.

"Bob... See, the reason Scott's unable to play is because we, we recently lost my sister, Laura... She and Scott were very close, and her funeral is set for Saturday afternoon." Finstock shrugged.

"Game's not 'til nine, should have plenty of time..." Derek shook his head.

"It's also being held out of town to accommodate some of our older relatives down south, so we likely wouldn't get back until late evening, and even if he did get back in time, you must understand why he wouldn't be in the proper state of mind to play..." Coach nodded and gave a sigh.

"I understand completely. But like I told McCall, I need my boys on firstline there when I need 'em... If he's going to be unavailable for our first game, with less than a week notice... It doesn't look reliable..." Derek tried to be patient, but he was slightly appalled. Did he understand? Of course. But to hold having to go to a funeral against a teenager? It was a bit too much. He was sure his displeasure showed.

"But--" Derek stopped. Upset equals irrational in negotiation. He needed to take a breath. Think about the most he was going to get Scott here. "Bob, I get what you're saying, I do... And you know Scott, he loves lacrosse and he's dedicated. But how much good is he going to be mourning on the field?" Coach nodded knowingly, much to Scott's surprise as he sat there nodding like he was at a Parent Teacher conference, but Derek continues. "If we'd known sooner we would have let you know, but there's just nothing we could do. As you know Scott does want to play, but we don't know how late the service is going to run... And honestly, yes, Scotty is just so strong but, honestly, we can't be sure he'll be in any condition to be on the field. He could be out of it, and get hurt, or even get someone else hurt. I'm just concerned-" Coach held up his hand, looking almost pained.

"Der, I'll with ya buddy, it kills me being the bad guy here, but I need him at the game. I can give him a lot of leeway with this- he can miss pre-practice, I'm not gonna throw him out on the field on the verge of tears- but this is our first game , and McCall is a new to firstline... I need him at our first game. We need to be able to rely on him being there, just in case we need him even if he's benched... If we can't... I hate to do it, but he's gonna be second string this season." Derek thought on that. The familiar worry in Scott's eyes looking back at him said it all. It's not enough. What if something happened and Scott had to play? What if he lost control? No. He had to trust Scott here. He had to believe in him. He had to. Otherwise Scott wouldn't trust himself. Derek put a hand on the arm of Scott's chair.

"Scott..." Scott jumped suddenly being included again. "Is that okay? Are you gonna be able to manage that??" Scott seemed worried, though reassured by Derek's apparent approval. Coach Finstock cut in once more.

"McCall, as long as Jackson's in I'll let you sit out. The only way I'd have to put you in is to replace him..." Coach seemed more heartful with this than he usually did with his Independence Day speech. "Come on, McCall, you've got this, I know you do." Scott took a deep breath, accepting Coach's ignorant support. He looked back to Derek, who still had his hand on the chair.

"Y-Yeah, I'll try..."He looked back, gaze firm, though uncertain. "I'll do my best coach."

Scott sighed as they left the building, having had to watch in pain as coach made small talk with Derek for nearly two hours. It started with sports, and then got into recent weather, then climate change??? Who was he kidding, he stopped listening when coach started talking about his varying sports hobbies... When he looked over to Derek, ready to half jokingly ask for a ride as his mom had dropped him off before heading to work, he found him ghostly pale, face set in worry, looking down at his phone. "What's wrong? Stiles dump you for Lydia?" Scott joked nervously. Derek swallowed as if he had a lump in his throat. Scott could hear Derek's heart racing at an inhuman pace.

"Something's wrong." Scott peeked over Derek's shoulder, and the texts from Stiles that were displayed.

OKAY YEAH HE MENTIONED YOU NO GOOD THIS IS BAD

OH FUCK SHIT IS GOING DOWN IDK WHAT TO SAY NOT GOOD

A time stamp read that the next message came ten minutes later.

Help

The short and curt follow up, along with that Stiles hadn't sent an all clear in the 35 minutes since, made Scott's heart race too. "Derek, he-" He didn't want to lie, but he couldn't let Derek just run off and do something stupid. "He's probably just being over dramatic... Probably just stuck in an awkward conversation or something..." Derek heart beat took on a different rhythm as Derek shoved his phone in his pocket. When he spoke it was hardly more than a growl.

"What if he's not..." It wasn't a question... Derek already had a pretty good idea of the answer.

Chapter Text

It wasn't long before he was standing in the Argents' backyard, focusing, trying to find any trace of Stiles. He heard his laugh upstairs, but had no time to relax in relief, hearing the movement in the grass across the yard. "Derek... Honestly can't say it's good to finally meet you." Derek couldn't help the anger that creeped up the back of his throat. "Took you longer than I would've thought."

"Stiles didn't send me that text, did he...?" Derek turned toward Argent, taking a second for his eyes to linger on the gun in his relaxed hand. Argent didn't bother to shake his head as he stared Derek down.

"He didn't." He gave a nod of his head as an after thought. "And as you probably know, he's fine..." Derek glanced up, towards the room the three were in. Maybe this wasn't what he thought. Maybe it was just another "talk". Still he eyed Argent carefully.

"If this is about me and Stiles... Like I told his dad, I have no intention of getting Stiles involved with what I am or the problems involved..." To Derek's surprise, the Hunter gave a spiteful laugh.

"I don't give a damn about what you are... I'm more concerned that the poor kid deserves a hell of a lot better than you..." Derek narrowed his eyes in confusion.

" What? " He'd certain thought that enough times himself, but why would Argent say this? More over, why would he trick him into coming here to say it? It didn't make sense. Argent's glare narrowed on him even more, now gaining the company of a barely there smile, as if he has any civility to fake here.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, Derek. Honestly, I always assumed you'd be human... Didn't make any sense that you'd be a wolf too." Derek caught sight of Stiles at the back French doors. Run , he mouthed. Derek didn't realize why, didn't realize exactly what the situation really was until he looked back and Argent's arm was raising the gun. "But a bullet to the brain will still do the job alright..." Water was shooting at them not a second later, giving Derek a chance to get out of the way before Argent had shaken off the distraction and taken fire. The bullet hit a tree, and Derek ran as Stiles had well advised him to, Argent cursing him as he did.

Chapter Text

Stiles tried to control his breathing, and contain his fear. He fittled with the control pad by the door just aside from the kitchen in mock confusion, to support the lie he was planning to cover his ass with. God this was bad. He was practically shaking already. Chris came back in, gun not visible now, but soaking wet and seething. Stiles pretended to jump in shock before Chris started in on him.

"Do you have any idea what you just did?!" Stiles played dumb well, suppressing his instinct to flinch.

"Shit, I'm so sorry, I-I thought it was an intercom- I- I had no idea- what was going on out there? Was it the mountain lion everyone's been talking about? Shit, are you okay? Is it gone?? Did it come at you??? Shit, I'm so so sorry, Mr. Argent, I had no idea, I'm so sorry." Chris was still pissed, but he gave a sigh. Falling for the lie, Stiles hoped.

"Stiles, it's fine..." Stiles shook his head, electing to play it up.

"No, it's not! I almost got you killed by some rabid over grown cat! How could that possible be-" Chris shouted, though keeping his voice hushed.

"Stiles! What did you need?" Stiles stuttered in barely feigned panic.

"I-I-I couldn't find the bathroom..." Chris huffed, leading Stiles to the one upstairs. Stiles relaxed in relief that his plan had actually worked. He gave a shakey smile as Chris stopped outside the door around the corner, across the upper floor from Allison's room. "Thanks, Mr. Argent. Again, sorry about-" Chris sighed, apparently having calmed down a bit.

"It's alright Stiles, you didn't know... I'll just have to take care of it if I see it again." Stiles nodded, quickly entering the bathroom and closing the door as Chris headed back downstairs. He locked it and pulled out his phone once he was sure Chris was down the stairs. It rang a full three times before it picked up.

"Fuck, please tell me you're okay..." Derek was breathing almost as hard as him.

"Are you?? You're practically hyperventilating Stiles..." Stiles shook his head.

"I'm fine, it doesn't matter. Are you Okay? " Derek huffed a breath into the phone before his breathing went quieter, more effortless.

"I'm okay, he missed..." Stiles was quick to switch his tone.

"Damn it, what the hell were you thinking?! Derek, gun beats werewolf, like almost always! Why didn't you run??" Derek shook his head on the other end of the line, and Stiles could hear his hair brush on the phone.

"I know I just... He texted me from your phone to lure me there... When I got there, I don't know I just froze..." Stiles sighed, leaning over the sink, cursing himself for leaving his phone unattended.

"I'm so sorry..." Derek paused.

"Stiles, it wasn't your fault." Stiles wanted to believe that- that he was just over thinking it- but he felt so guilty.

"I left my phone-" Derek interrupted insistently.

"Stiles, listen to me, unwittingly giving someone an opportunity does not make their actions your fault." Stiles nodded, trying to wrap his reeling head around that. "Are you having a panic attack??" Stiles shut his eyes tightly.

"I'm fine, just- He was so pissed, for a second I almost thought he was gonna hit me." Derek paused and Stiles ate at himself about how that sounded.

"I'm sorry I put you in that situation, Stiles." Stiles shook his head.

"I'd have done it for anyone, I'm just a hell of a lot happier you're okay..." Derek huffed a breathy laugh.

"I'm glad you're okay too... How is your slumber party going? Scott-" Stiles waited as Derek took another deep breath. "Scott wanted to know if you'd dumped me for what's her name yet." Stiles' nose scrunched as he laughed.

"Uh, no, no, not yet, but she is actively trying to dismantle My Look." Stiles could practically heard Derek raise his eyebrow.

"Is your look that thing where you wear clothes that are way too big for you because you're small?" Stiles scoffed.

"What? No!" Derek didn't respond as if waiting on Stiles. ".... Yes."

"Good, please let her." Stiles gaped at his phone.

"Excuse you! I am adorable!" Derek laughed.

"He agreed with me, didn't he?!" Lydia said through the door, making Stiles jump a tad.

"That's her?" Stiles sighed.

"Yes, it is, and you're both evil." Stiles smiled despite himself.

"D'you wanna go then?" Derek asked him softly, and that smiled warmed and grew.

"Want is a strong term, but I feel like after a while they'll drag me out of here..." Stiles could have sworn he heard a breath of a laugh before Derek spoke.

"Right, I'll let you go then. Do you wanna let Scott know you're fine, or should I?" Stiles shrugged.

"I'll give him a call. Missing you already, Big guy. Talk to you later. Probably tomorrow. I wanna say tomorrow. I'll-" Derek interrupted understandingly.

"Tomorrow, I got it. Missing you too. Hey, deep breaths..." Stiles smiled again, a sigh of contentment draining from his lips.

"Thanks. You're a babe. An awesome babe. A supremely-"

"Stiles, I'm gonna hang up on you now." Stiles laughed, and gave a nod.

"Got it." He put his phone back to the home page before pulling up his contacts again as he headed back with the girls.

Chapter Text

Chris closed the door gingerly as he could as he stormed into his darkened office, breath shallow, furious. He tried to reign in his rage. He failed at that too. His desk lamp shattered against the wall before he'd realized he'd grabbed it. God, he hoped that sound proofing was quality. His body shook, no other outlet for his anger, sorrow, or self disappointment. A thousand lamps couldn't have choked back the sob wringing its way up Chris' throat. He slammed his fist down on his desk, but it was too late to do him any good. What good was his rage if it couldn't get him revenge? In the dim light of the street lamps filtering through his curtains, he crumbled into the chair behind him, holding his head pitifully in his hand. He gave way to the aching sobs, trying not to wallow in his memories, and failing yet again.

~

He was young then. It was before he was a father, before he was a husband.

A young man, barely his junior he'd come to find out. He looked so much younger. Or maybe Chris had just always looked like an old man.

He was so terrified, caught in one of their traps, Chris' gun trained on him defensively. A notebook in his hands and tears brimming in his eyes, too terrified to speak.

How couldn't Chris let him go?

He never felt wrong in that...

~

The next time he met him was at the store. Chris pretended to be furious with him.

"I followed you, obviously..." Chris had always been mesmerized by that drawl.

"Why? I could reveal you, you know..." Chris had said out of spite. He'd never have. But this werewolf just laughed. "What?"

"You tell people I'm a werewolf, they'll think your crazy. If I told them you tried to kill me though..."

"I didn't try to-" Peter gave him a shy but somehow wolfish smile.

"I'm just using it as a comparison..."

He saw him a few more times. He assumed most of these occasions were coincidence. He stayed away though, not realizing the feeling in his stomach was love. He's not sure he'd have gone to him if he'd known.

~

Next they spoke was in those same woods, a few miles off from where they'd been.

He found him caught by another trap. This time spikes covered with wolfsbane.

He dragged him away from the trap, the sounds of his friends and family searching the woods, hot in his ears, all the way to an abandoned root cellar. He burned the poison from his wounds, doing his best to be gentle with him. He told himself he only cared because he didn't want him screaming and giving them away. He had no lies to tell himself as to why he was helping the wolf.

Or why he watched him sleep for over a half an hour. He was understandable cautious when he woke, but Chris couldn't stop staring at him as he eyes still drooped from restless sleep.

"Where am I? How long was I out?" He grumbled, only slightly defensive. Chris finally managed to avert his gaze.

"Only thirty minutes..." Chris has always remembered how amazed he was that this half dead, corpse of a boy could muster up a scoff, even in his state.

"Only thirty minutes... Well then." It had sounded like he intended to say something witty, but all that came was a small groan. Chris stopped him as he went to sit up.

"Hey hey, relax, you're hurt, give yourself a break." He barely got the kid to sit back. "Why the hell do you keep coming out here anyway?" He'd sighed, and Chris waited restlessly for his reply.

"I come out here to sketch, for school." Chris just nodded.

"You go to Beacon?" Chris found himself fixed with the most bewildered look.

"I'm in college." Chris was dumbfounded, but nodded.

"What are you going for??"

"Artsy stuff. Mostly painting and that, but a couple writing and pottery classes." Chris nodded along as he droned on, passion evident even in his still sleepy, soft blue eyes. At first Chris had thought they were just his wolf eyes, but several times had he seen this wasn't the case. "I mean hopefully , but I did register early so I would get preferred placement. This is my last chance to take them, so I'm crossing my fingers... I mean I can always go back for community courses, but I really want them under my degree." Chris had snapped back to reality at that.

"You're a senior?" He was fixed with half a glare, but Chris didn't pay it any mind. "How old are you?" He rolled his eyes.

"Older than I look to you, apparently..." Chris tried not to sigh, and failed.

"So do I get a name for my trouble this time? Or are you just going to stalk me more?" He'd surveyed him for a long time. Well over a minute, literally. Looking back it seemed more like it was between five and forever though.

"I'll give you mine if you give me yours..." He'd finally answered, his voice conspiring for nothing more than an exchange of names, and he smiled at the spark of innocence he saw even in this (apparently) grown man. Chris obviously knew this really was a risk, for both of them, but... God, he'd just sounded like a kid looking so desperately to share a cherished secret.

"Christopher." He said, letting the 'r' sit silent on the end. This werewolf eyed him carefully before trying to sit up and lean forward. After a good effort, Chris twisted to help. He was close when he answered, gentle and quiet.

"I'm Peter..." Christopher could remember to this day how far gone he was the second he heard that name... The moment he'd pulled away, just slightly, to look into those living embodiments of the ocean, and smile back at him.

Some lonely nights it was all he needed to rid him of inconvenient frustrastions. Others.... Others, it was all it took to bring him to the edge of his alcoholism.... Or worse.

~

Then there was the last time they'd truly spoken.

They'd woken up in the later portion of the afternoon, neither of them on what one would call a normal sleep schedule.

The first thing either them had thought to do was to kiss the very breath out of each other.

Chris wishes that he could compartmentalize that. That he could look back on that without the weight of every memory that came after.

"Nothing would make me happier than kissing you like this for the rest of my life..." That was never untrue. He might have been a coward but that didn't change what he'd wanted. What he'd wanted every day since.

"Then why don't you?" He could still hear the sleepy rumble of Peter's voice, could still feel the way his breath kissed the shell of his ear. But he had sighed. He hated that sigh.

"Peter, don't..." He held Peter's smaller frame close, all it took to keep him from pulling away.

"We have to stop pretending this isn't a necessary conversation..." He put his forehead to Peter's, spoke with promise.

"Tell me what you want me to do... I'll do it." Peter sighed right back at him. He hated that sigh too.

"You're really going to put that on me..." Chris gave him a sorrowful look.

"You know I can't do right by you... Not on my own... Tell me what you want, and I'll give it to you." Peter had tears behind his eyes, even though Chris' still had hope.

"You want me to tell you to run away with me?? To come down with me to my place when break ends, and just live happily ever after?" Chris pressed his lips to Peter's, begging silently.

"Ask me to and I'll pack now..." Chris' hope died so softly as Peter's tears rolled off his cheeks.

"You know I can't..." Chris saw the end. He didn't want it.

"Why?" He'd insisted.

"I can't take you from your family..."

"You can be my family..."

"You want kids."

"I want you more." He pushed. But Peter's expression was sadder than he thought him capable.

"If you put this on me, I'll tell you to stay... I'm not selfish enough to tell you anything else." His heart hurt more than any wound he'd ever had.

"Peter... Be selfish..." Peter only shook his head.

"The most I can ask for is once more..."

He didn't think either of them could enjoy it. He was in too much pain. And Peter, he had cried. He left crying.

~

The next time he'd seen Peter, he had a little niece, five years old, as old as his own baby girl, nestled on his hip.

And he'd pretended they'd hardly ever met.

He couldn't even explain through his tears to Victoria that night.

~

He'd been happy for Kate when she'd found happiness where he'd failed. A younger Hale boy. Chris could see in how amused she was over his every passion. They'd even shared a love of history, and Chris was happy that he'd at least let Kate know that it was possible, that she wasn't wrong for loving someone their family wouldn't call ideal, and that he was there for her. He was glad his failure wouldn't be hers. And he was particularly glad that she would be able to marry whoever she wished.

Panic filled his heart when she'd called, sounding so upset.

Hale Estate all but wiped out in Tragic Fire.

As if it wasn't enough to know the love of his life was comatose, severe burns to most of his body, that Peter'd never look at him with those soft eyes again...

"I don't know.... I don't want to say anything to anyone because.... I don't really know but... God, Chris... He was upset.... His mother was really- she'd said-.... I told him not to do anything rash but.... And the three of them left so suddenly after... I don't know what to--.... I- I think it was Derek, Chris..."

Chris was glad his daughter had been at school.

Even still she came home to her mother sweeping up glass, a kitchen she couldn't enter, and her father locked in her parents' bedroom, his crying and sobs and mournful bellowing a ghost in the air of the quiet night.

~

"I'm so sorry, Peter..." He cried, sniffling to himself . "I keep failing you..."

Chapter Text

Derek didn't bother trying to contain his glare as Stiles slid into the car. His voice was quick and hot and heavy with spite, but still hopeful.

"Don't you glare at me like that. I'm not afraid of you." Derek just narrowed his glare, feeling perfectly just in his anger. Stiles stilled, tensing for a moment. "Okay, maybe I am, but there is a dead person in your yard so..." Derek rolled his eyes.

"Really Stiles!? You seriously think I'd kill anyone ?!" He hissed at the teen.

"I don't know what to believe, Derek!!"

"The only killing I'd ever do, is of you two!!! What-What were you even doing digging around my house!?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Why the hell is there a dead woman in your yard to dig up?! " Derek leaned forward, glaring still, and Stiles struggled not to lean back.

" She's my sister, you idiot. I buried her out of grief. Why were you digging around my house, Stilinski. " Stiles relaxed visibly, as if just now finding it believable that Derek might not be the killer. Derek didn't know whether to be hurt that he thought he could've been, or to be relieved Stiles was trying to believe him.

"Last night Dean and Sam were saying they found her there, and--.... Derek, they were ready to kill you... All we could think to do was go to the police. We came to check because we didn't want to put you through this if I'd misheard something, or whatever. We were very disheartened to in fact find the body, just fyi." Stiles shook his head after a moment. "Derek. Please. Give me something to work with here. You know this looks bad... I want to believe you, I want to defend you here, but I- I need reasoning for how you didn't do this, and I'm freaking out too much to think... Help me help you." Derek tried to maintain his cautious demeanor, but Stiles' eyes were filled with hope. He genuinely wanted to believe Derek hadn't done this. He believed in his heart Derek couldn't do something like this. He just needed evidence to prove how this situation looked wrong. To himself, and to the hunters unready to show the same mercy. He sighed.

"I-.... Laura was our pack alpha after our mom died. If I'd killed her, my eyes would be red, as an alpha... You can ask Scott, and Dean, mine are blue." Stiles seemed to take in the information, though doubt still seemed to worry him. Derek wanted to rest Stiles' worry. He didn't deserve it. He grasped through his mind looking for whatever he could. "Hey. Hey! Do you remember the night Scott got bit? And you fell down that hill, right over there?" Stiles looked up wide eyed with realization. "Exactly. I was with you when whoever killed Laura bit Scott. It couldn't have been me. I still have your blood on my favorite shirt." Stiles shook his head.

"Fuck, Derek, I'm so sorry. I'm a fucking idiot." Derek sighed with relief, and shook his head.

"Stiles, it's fine. They won't hold me. I'll be out by tomorrow, and I'll be at the game, I promise." Stiles nodded, finally a smile back on his face. He reached out to link his fingers through the caging, but before he could he was being yanked out of the car, and Derek winced to himself, hoping Stiles wouldn't be in too much trouble.

Chapter Text

~c lick~

Scott came from the locker room, dressed to play, praying he wouldn't, and stalked straight over to Stiles, who stood only as he saw Scott. "Hey! Where's Derek? Is he out yet?" Stiles sighed, shaking his head.

"I don't know, he hasn't texted me yet." Scott panicked slightly, though Stiles kept a calming hand on his shoulder.

"Do you think he'll make it? Stiles, I don't-" Stiles cut him off.

"Hey, he said he'd be here. Either way, you'll be fine." Scott scoffed skeptically. "You probably won't even have to play. And if you do-- Hey." Stiles patted Scott's cheek comfortingly. "I believe in you. Okay? You can handle this." Scott rolled his eyes, fidgeting. Coach came over then, not quite attentive, but he couldn't blame him, as the man was caught up with getting the entire team ready for their first game.

"McCall, kid, you doing alright?" Scott's breath caught on an inhale.

"I'm... here, Coach." Finstock sighed but nodded.

"Gotcha. Keep an eye on things though. I want you ready, just in case. Kay?" Scott nodded hesitantly, but nodded all the same and Coach patted his back. "That's my boy." Scott sighed, because as coach disappeared, Lydia and Jackson approached. Although Allison was with them and she smiled at him. Lydia hugged Stiles, and nodded at Scott as she stepped back to Jackson's side.

"Hello boys. Ready for the big game??" Lydia smiled between them, before nodding to Scott again, this time with a frown. "Stiles told us about your cousin. Condolences, Scott." Allison nodded sympathetically.

"We can't believe you even managed to come. It's really strong of you to be here for the team, Scott." Scott smiled softly and tried to give a humble shrug. Jackson slapped him on the shoulder though, and he looked over confused. Jackson's smirk was probably meant to be reassuring, but just seemed arrogant, given how much Scott knew of him.

"Don't worry, McCall. No way these losers are taking me off the field. You won't even have to play." Lydia smiled at Jackson, then turned back to them.

"And once we win, we can all do something to celebrate. Maybe Derek can even join? Is he here??" Stiles gave another glance over his shoulder at the bleachers, but didn't see Derek.

"He said he'd try to make it. He's bit busy today, but I'm sure he'll show at some point..." Lydia nodded, smiling.

"Can't wait to meet him then." Allison nodded.

"We'll have to invite him over to sit with us." Scott made a less than pleased face that everyone ignored, save Stiles. "So, Stiles, are you gonna play?" Stiles scoffed, a bit flustered.

"Hell no, man, I suck. Only way Coach is pulling me off the bench is if half the team drops dead." The last person Scott or Stiles expected to protest was Jackson, but he shook his head.

"Don't be modest, Stilinski. You've been kicking ass in practice. If we can't have McCall on the field, you're probably the best bench warmer we could play." Stiles scratched at the back of his head, the way he did when he was at a loss for words.

"Thanks, Jackson. I'm touched." Stiles said monotonously. Jackson rolled his eyes, and Stiles spoke again in the same voice. "No, really. I mean it." Jackson gave a dismissive shake of his head and shoved Stiles.

"Just don't fuck up my game, Stilinski." Jackson walked away to finish getting ready and Lydia rolled her eyes though she smiled all the while. Allison nudged Scott shoulder before bidding them both adieu.

"We'll see you guys after the game, kay? Go Cyclones." They sighed and sat back down on the bench as the girls climbed back up into the bleachers.

~c lick~

The boys tried to cheer their captain and the rest of the team as enthusiastically as possible, having no other outlet for their competitive spirits, but the game had soon proved to be little more than a blood game. The way the competition was bulldozing their players had half of those hit limping back to the bench. Playing the offensive was like running shoulders first into a herd of bulls. They couldn't even tell whether the other team was trying for injuries or if they really were just a bunch of bulls in a people shop. The only ones not injured still on the bench were Scott, Stiles, and Greenberg. And their defense wasn't doing much better, Jackson and their only other first line middie still left on the field had both just gotten thrown to the ground hard, and Scott was almost sick hearing the twist of a joint for the 3rd time that night. The game halted when Sullivan didn't get back on his feet. Couldn't get back on his feet. Jackson and Coach had to help him back to the bench. Most had limped off their twisted ligaments, but Sullivan was probably going to have to go to the hospital tonight. Coach took the moment he had with Jackson to think of their next course of action though.

"You good?" Jackson grimaced and rolled his shoulder but nodded all the same.

"Better than half our team." Coach gave a quick glance at their players, and their wounded prides.

"We can either put Greenberg on as a D-man and put one of them on-" Jackson shook his head.

"Do not put Greenberg out. He wouldn't last a second out there! Sullivan would do us more good than Greenberg!" Coach shrugged irritably.

"Who else am I supposed to put out? If I play McCall, I could lose my two best players in one play!" Jackson stamped his foot.

"Play Stilinski. Him I can at least work with!" Coach looked confused.

"Who??" Jackson looked back at him, dumbstruck.

"Stiles Stilinski? He's sitting next to McCall?" Coach looked over, and Scott looked away to void making eye contact.

"His last name's Stilinski?? Who names a kid Stiles Stillin-"

"Coach!" Jackson urged, hurrying Finstock.

"He hasn't played yet??" Jackson shook his head, and Coach patted his shoulder with a grin. "He's fast."

"Small too." Jackson added.

"He's in." Coach said, moving around Jackson toward the boys on the bench. Scott panicked slightly.

"Coach, I can go in."

"No you can't McCall. Jackson's on his last legs. I need you to take over if he's gets taken out. Stiles, get in there." Stiles stared, shocked.

"Wait, What- Really??"

"Yes, 'really', you're on the field, Stilinski, now!" Stiles got up, stunned, but Coach pulled him aside.

"Stiles, look at me." Stiles turned to look at Finstock, steeling his nerves. "You're small, you're fast, you fidget like a scared rabbit-"

"That's because I'm very fragile and constantly terrified, Coach." Finstock nodded.

"And reckless as hell."

"The words you're looking for are 'clumsy' and 'borderline suicidal'." Coach nodded.

"And smart. So, if anyone on this team can get by those frickin' wildebeests, it's you. We're counting on you, kid." Stiles nodded. "And Stiles!" Stiles turned back, almost tripping.

"Yes, Coach."

"Do not die on my field." Stiles only nodded sheepishly, turning back. Jackson surprised him with a firm whack on his shoulder.

"Just get us past their D-men and give me the ball, Stilinski, and we'll be crushing these guys in no time." Stiles nodded, trying to believe him.

. bang .

When Derek arrived, the cheering rivaled the noise the game itself caused. Understandably so, as it did look like an exciting game. He saw Scott on the bench, enthusiastically cheering his own heart out too, and made his way towards him, scanning the front rows of the bleachers for a seat. "Hey." He called abandoning his search to get Scott's attention. Scott nodded his hello, eyes quick to return to the field. Derek glanced across the bench at the line of sore players, thankful Scott hadn't been thrown in while he was dealing with paper work. "Where's Stiles?" Scott pointed out to the game, smiling, and Derek quickly took to scanning the field for Stiles.

"Number 24! Stiles has gotten 5 out of 8 assists!!! He's only been in like... a quarter and a half maybe?" Derek looked back at the bench.

"You're kidding. How has he even been in that long? It looks like they destroyed your first string." Scott shrugged.

"Stiles is good like that. He's gotten hit a few times, but he's taking it like a champ." Derek looked back at the field as everyone started yelling again, Scott included. "YES, GO STILES, GO!!!" 14 had passed almost directly sideways to Stiles as he passed, and Stiles took off like a bullet, making it up field in what felt like a second. He practically fell through the other team's defense, but caught himself on the stumble, and passed across the entire offensive area, to 37, who whipped it to the goal before any defensivemen could switch their focus to him, and a noise signaling a point blared, and Stiles fell, rolling up field slightly. Derek shook his head with a smile, as a charitable D-man helpfully pulled Stiles back to his feet.

"And how's your defensive line coming?" Derek would admit he knew next to nothing about lacrosse, but he'd been in a couple sports when he was younger, and remembered the most common of mechanics well enough.

"Well, we're tied, so-" Scott cried out happily. "AND WE'VE GOT THE BALL. YES!!" Scott looked back over to him calming almost instantly. "And everyone's working together crazy well? Like... Stiles really got the team rallied." Scott clapped, catching sight of the field apparently. "And there he goes!"

Derek looked back, casual as ever, enjoying all this. But his heart started to pound in his chest. He didn't know what to make of the sudden panic, but he knew it terrified him. He hoped it would prove to be nothing, eyes following Stiles' quick jittery movements, up the field, dodging as a rival went to check him. Everything began to slow around him, but he was frozen absolutely solid. Stiles stopped on a dime just before he hit the offensive area, hesitating a moment as if somewhere else completely, before he seem to realize his circumstances, another player barreling towards him. Stiles passed up field to who the fuck cared. The other player didn't pull back. It didn't seem like he'd even noticed the pass. It wouldn't matter if he had, the momentum behind him what it was.

Derek wanted to squeeze his eyes shut. He knew what was going to happen, that no matter what it was going to be some degree of not good. He didn't want to see it. He didn't want to not be able to do anything. But he couldn't look away.

Because the next second was the crack.

The next Stiles was practically throw over this guy's shoulder, and it wasn't even another before Stiles hit the ground, agonizingly hard.

He could hardly even make sense of what had happened in the silence afterwards. The player stood from where he had knelt down, flagging down the ref, the coaches, anyone.

Everyone seemed to unfreeze at that same moment, time returning to its much too fast pace. Coach Finstock was bolting across the field before the ref had even moved, the crowd gasped and murmured softly, and Derek; Derek was being pushed back to the sidelines before he'd even realized he'd stepped onto the field. He grabbed at the arm of whoever's hands were tight on his, ready to protest, ready to insist in his panic that he needed to go make sure Stiles was okay, but somehow the grip stayed firm, and Derek tried to lend his attention to whoever had the presence of mind to stop him.

"There's nothing you can do for him now that will be any less effective once things have calmed down." Stiles' adoptive father insisted, voice gravelly, but soft and firm. Derek shook his head regardless, his panic and worry getting the best of him.

"But he's hurt. " He could only describe his voice as a desperate growl, as if that was some justified explanation. Castiel nodded.

"I'm aware, but you aren't going to change that by running out there and causing a scene. They'll have him off the field soon, and we'll be able to see him then. Until then, you must allow the officials to do their jobs, and try to provide a good example..." Derek saw Castiel glance to Scott, but all he could do was bow his head, and bite his lip.

It wasn't fair for this to be asked of him. He wanted to cry. He wanted to fret, and he wanted to lose his composure, even for a minute. He wanted to be allowed to worry about his boyfriend. He wanted to feel this pain without having to think about being a role model, or having to worry that it could get him killed. He wanted to crumple up in someone's arms and he wanted someone whose arms he could crumple up into. Derek let go of Castiel, though not hearing a word he was saying anymore, too stuck in his head. But Cas walked away, and Derek meandered back to where he'd stood by the benches. He looked down at Scott as he felt a hand nudge his knee. He nudged Scott's shoulder in return before he had a chance to speak.

"Keep calm, everything's alright... If they put you in I'll be right here for you." Scott raised his voice suddenly. Not loudly, but it was an alarming switch from his soft and comforting puppy dog face to his offended, scolding tone.

"Don't be stupid! Go with Cas to the hospital! Make sure he's alright. One of us should be there for him!!" Derek wanted to listen, but resisted, not sure about leaving Scott all on his own.

"And he'd say one of us should be here for you." Scott huffed angrily.

"If he could say that, we wouldn't be having this conversation! He's unconscious, Derek, he's hurt ! I'll be fine, he isn't!! I'm telling you to go ." Derek looked at Scott. He didn't know whether Scott was right or, if Derek just believed him because he wanted to go.

"Scott-"

"I brought my inhaler." Scott whispered firmly, so only Derek would hear. "If I get worried I'm losing control, I'll fake an attack so I can catch my breath." Derek nodded and patted Scott's shoulder.

"You're good?"

"No. But I'm under control."

Chapter Text

Stiles stirred back to consciousness, guided but the gentle shaking of his shoulder, squeezing when he found a hand holding his own, opposite the person shaking him awake.

"Stiles..." He heard Derek's voice whisper to him, in a tame sort of awe. "I think he's waking up." Stiles kept his grip as tight as he could, having trouble forcing his eyes open. He managed to squeeze them shut tighter, so at least he was sure he could move them.

"Mmhn." He groaned weakly, to let them know he was trying to. The hand shaking him rubbed his arm comfortingly.

"Stiles, dear, wake up..." Cas' voice cooed at him best it could, as gravelly as when they met weeks ago. Dean had said it meant he was anxious. Stiles reached out his right hand looking to comfort Cas, but unable to find him. He gave up, instead bringing it to his face, as much as he was able, to rub his eyes to action. He squinted them open only to squeeze them shut, groaning again.

"Too bright; Derek, stop smiling." He felt the hand in his left shake with laughter and he smiled. Derek's hand left his, the other coming up to squeeze his shoulder.

"I'll dim the lights, be right back..." He let go and Stiles could hear him walk away.

"Don't break anything..." Stiles hummed softly after him. He groaned some more before Derek made his way back. He could tell the lighting had dimmed. He squinted his eyes back open sleepily, looking to Cas first, giving him a smile.

"I feel like I got hit by a truck..." He said to the both of them. Cas sighed softly. Relieved Stiles felt well enough to at least be jovial about it. He looked over his shoulder, towards the door, to assure no one was close enough to hear.

"You were thrown to the ground during the game. You suffered a concussion as a result. I healed it as best I could, but you may still feel a bit disoriented." Stiles shook his head lightly, feeling dizzy just from that.

"Not too much. Thanks, Cas. Sorry for worrying you guys. Where's-?" Cas nodded.

"Dean and the others are still at the game." Stiles went pale a moment with panick.

"Shit, Scott. Is he okay?" He turned his attention to Derek. "Why are you even here?? You should-" Derek put his hand on Stiles' arm to calm him.

"Scott told me to come make sure you were alright. He has your family there for support." Stiles huffed out of stubborn worry.

"But-"

"He'd just have been more worried if I hadn't. You're the closest thing to pack he has." Stiles laid back and sighed. "It's been a while, though. I'm sure they'll be here soon."

"I just-- This isn't as big of a deal as you guys are making of it. I'm fine, I feel fine." Cas gave him a concerned look though.

"That may be the case, but according to your Doctor, had you still been running when you were hit, you'd likely be dead." Stiles looked up at Cas, eyes wide with shock. "We're certainly grateful you feel okay, but the situation did prove worrying." Silence filled the room as Stiles let that sink in, and Derek took his hand. He tried to be gentle, as Stiles seemed on edge now as it was.

"Not that I'm not glad, but... Why did you stop?" Stiles turned his attention to his lap, a look so serious it began to discomfort Derek. "Stiles?" Stiles glanced up, pulled out of his concentrated thought.

"I don't really know. Something just... told me I should stop." Derek's eyebrows quirked up. He looked up at Cas on the other side of the bed when Stiles' eyes left him.

"Like... intuition? Instinct?" Stiles inhaled sharply, eyes focused on inspecting his free hand nervously.

"No... Like a voice, but..." Stiles closed his eyes, shook his thoughts from his head. "No, it was probably just intuition messing with me. Or the concussion. Who knows." Derek nodded. If it was going to make Stiles this uncomfortable, he'd drop it. At least for now. His thumb brushed over the back of Stiles' hand.

"It doesn't matter right now. All that matters is you're alright..." Cas nodded.

"Indeed... I'll go ask about dinner arrangements." Stiles smiled up at him as he stepped away.

"Thanks, Cas..."

Chapter Text

“Well, green dye must be delicious then,” Derek insisted as Stiles shook his head trying not to giggle like a seven year old. “Because green jello is the best.” Stiles rolled his eyes. Stiles’ amused smile made him grin. He suspected he was getting more pleasure from taking Stiles’ mind off everything than Stiles was, but given he was probably in pain, Derek hardly had the heart to feign offense. But this time Derek couldn't catch Stiles’ witty retort, his hearing forcibly focused on the sound of running, the footsteps of a man and the frantic clacking of heels. His heart caught in his chest. The Argents? He stood as they approached, no idea what he thought he was going to do. But a small red headed girl burst in instead, dragging along one of Scott and Stiles’ teammates, both frantic until their eyes landed on Stiles, leaning back on the elevated bed. Stiles gave them a look of touched surprise.

“Hey you guys! Sick flip right?” They shared a relieved, if not a tad annoyed, sigh. The lacrosse player, number 37 Derek noted, spoke first.

“Jesus, Stilinski, we thought you were dead or something!” Stiles nodded understandingly.

“It was pretty killer, wasn't it?” The girl growled in frustration, whacking Stiles with her purse as she came over. Stiles shielded himself halfheartedly. “Ow, Lyyyyydssss, I’m injured!!”

“You better be, scaring me like that!” She pulled another chair over. “How bad is it?? Did you break anything?” As Stiles shook his head, his teammate moved to stand behind who Derek assumed was Lydia.

“I don't think so. A little bruised all over, but I’m fine.” Derek shook his head, much to Stiles’ displeasure.

“He will be fine, but the doctors are saying he’s still a bit concussed.” Stiles shook his head, tenderly.

“Yeah, and what do doctors know?”

“That you’re concussed?” Derek offered,sternly.

“Balderdash. I feel great.” With a raised brow, Derek retorted.

“Right, actually shake your head then.”

“You act like I wouldn't do it just to be an ass?” Derek shook his head and sighed, turning his attention to the new visitors.

“The doctor said it's not too bad, he’ll be laid up for a few days to rest, but he can go home tomorrow.” Jackson gave Stiles a nod.

“Congrats, Stilinski, you might even get out of a couple days of school.” Stiles quietly snorted in agreed amusement.

“At least there's that.” He said half serious, half sarcastic. Derek rolled his eyes, but he smiled still. Lydia hummed through a tight lipped smile though, not as entertained..

“Don’t worry Stiles, I’m sure someone will bring you your assignments.” She said in a vaguely sing song. “But on a more fun note, me and Allison were thinking we should all do something together. Once you’re on your feet again, of course.” Derek sat back, smiling politely, finding a bit of cheer in just listening to Stiles and his friend tweet back and forth at each other like little song birds on a branch. It was comforting to see him having a semi normal life, even if there were the ever so often odd interruptions, as he’d secretly worried about Stiles being dragged into a messy life he didn’t sign up for. Stiles wasn’t as enchanted it would seem, as he side eyed Lydia’s proposal with unease.

“We??”

“Yeah?” She nodded, not seeing what he was getting at.

“We as in?” He expanded in absences of the answer he was looking for.

“Well, us, Scott and Allison, and you two. You know a group date kinda thing.” Derek didn’t think his smile had ever left his face so fast (hint: of course it had), replaced instantly with a dumbfounded look of confusion. You two??

“Us two?” Stiles echoed his thoughts. “Like, me and Derek??”

“‘Derek and I’.” Lydia corrected, much to Jackson’s nod, at which of course Stiles could only react with snark.

“Great now I’m not even invited.” He snipped quickly, taking a moment to smirk, as Lydia raised an eyebrow at his ridiculous joke.. Derek schooled his surprise, and spoke up.

“Uh, I’m not... really sure, we haven’t even had a date on our own yet… at least not one where Stiles hasn’t almost died.” Lydia looked to Stiles, who nodded in agreement.

“True, sadly. We even had to cancel brunch for tomorrow.” Derek nodded.

“Besides, I’m an infamous killjoy, I’d hate to ruin your fun.” Jackson shook his head at that.

“Don’t be ridiculous, we’ll probably do a movie or mini golf or some random crap. The only way to make it any more boring is less people.” Stiles spared a quick glare while Jackson wasn’t looking, one that said Great, now he’s helping Lydia make my life more awkward. Derek didn’t quite know what to say, and in his hesitation, Lydia swooped on Stiles too.

“And given you have a few days bed rest, I’m sure you two will find some alone time together before then.” She gave them a wink, and they were both suddenly at a complete loss, not knowing how else to respond but agreement just to make the topic stop. Derek never knew he was capable of choking on his own tongue, but he managed it somehow.

“Uuaah…” Stiles looked to him. Oh no. How was he supposed to talk after that either?

“....” Nothing, as Derek sat mouth open, waiting for inspiration to strike. Nothing. He cleared his throat. “It… sounds…. Like fun, I guess… When were you thinking?”

“Great!” Lydia smiled, genuine and for all intensive purposes well meaning, but so calculated and mischievous that it made Derek’s subconscious make a noise of resounding discomfort. A celebration of getting what she wanted. “We were thinking probably Wednesday night. It’s not set in stone though, so if you’re available…” Derek gave a stiff shake of his head, looking to Stiles as he opened his mouth. Stiles gave a shrug of defeat, and Derek gave a small sigh to match.

“Nope, I’ve got Wednesday free, I guess…”

Chapter Text

Maybe Allison could still see them, he figured. But by the time Chris was out of his truck and walking quickly to follow his daughter to the hospital door, Dean, Sam, and Scott seemed to have all but disappeared. Ms. McCall even lagged behind them by a significant distance, only just in front of Allison before she’d decided to hold the door for him. He gave a sweet smile at her patient impatience, taking support of the door. “Go see your friend, Sweetie.” He insisted as she waited for him to come in.

“You don’t mind?” She seemed surprised. He shook his head, and nodded after Scott’s mom.

“I’m sure you’re worried, go on. I’ll be up.” She ran off.

Honestly though, he had lied. They didn’t seem like great friends. She seemed to only bother with the kid because of her new friends. He didn’t even really care to follow her. Dean said he was alright. That was really the limit of how much he cared. Knowing Derek Hale was probably up there, him keeping his distance was probably best. He wasn’t sure how much he believed Stiles did or didn’t know, but no matter what his presence would be… awkward.

He sighed. He shouldn’t go. He should go back out to the car. He wouldn’t want to see him. He wouldn’t want anything. Not anymore. Besides, with everything going on, seeing him was the last thing Chris needed. It wouldn’t help. It wasn’t comforting. It wasn’t good to see him. It was as good as staring at a charred corpse. If anything it was him mocking himself. Reminding himself that there wasn’t even a grave to visit. Just a body rotting away in a room. But still, the busy but empty feeling halls drew him in. Reminded him of the living tombstone pointlessly stuck in the long term care wing. Hissed the nurse's words back at him from years ago. “He gets so few visitors… I’ll just let you see him…”

Before he knew he’d even decided, the elevator was dinging open. He went to the desk. A different woman, but the same words… The same fake pitying smile. The same dimly lit room. Oh god… The same gut wrenching feeling, ripping through him like a knife as he tried to give a smile for show. He walked towards the bed, slow and stiff as the nurse pulled the door closed and “gave them some space”. He didn’t know what to do, what to say when he knew no one could listen…

“Peter…” He said as if it was hello, not bothering to sit. A million things suddenly shouted to be said in his mind. His lungs hurt to know he couldn’t bring himself to say most of them. “As he even visited you?” He said with the weakest spite. He scoffed at himself, figuring he shouldn’t “upset” him. “For all I know, he could have. The nurse wouldn’t tell me. Why would she? Who am I?” He looked down at the bed, trying to keep steady. Apologize. He thought to himself. But for what? What sin should he confess first? What sins would a corpse even care to hear. Apologize! Was all that came again, like thunder through his brain and lightning through his soul, and it just poured out. “I’m sorry…” His broken voice took him by surprise and down the flood gates fell. “Peter, I’m so sorry....” He sobbed, still unable to look at him, fist grabbing the blanket beside Peter’s leg. “This is all my fault, Peter… This is all my fau-. God, I wish you were here, I wish you could hear me, I wish this had never happened…” Chris got to his knees, resting his head against the mattress, sobs shaking through him so hard he imagined his words must have been unintelligible. “Peter, I miss you so much… I miss you so fucking much… I should’ve been there for you, I…..” He choked on the shuddering of his words as his sobs only got worse. “...should’ve stayed.” He realized what he’d said once he said it, all that it mean, how terrible it sounded. He didn’t bother with taking it back. It might have been a passing thought, but he was still terrible enough to think it, and he deserved to know he meant it. He didn’t deserve the redemption of taking it back. He collected himself enough to stand, realizing Allison wouldn’t be a lot longer, and that he needed time alone to get it together. As it was it took all he had to not sob as he all but stormed out, never once having glanced to the stormy glare that watched his every move and heard his every word.

Chapter Text

Trigger warnings ahead for those with mental illnesses like anxiety, depression, schizophrenia, etc, that can cause extreme self deprecation and self loathing, please be prepared if you choose to enjoy!

~!~!~

The harsh florescent light filtered through the blinds, throwing lines of light through the pitch black room.

He’d never known Derek was such a sound sleeper… He always had the hardest time sleeping with those lines all around him, but he supposed maybe that had to with how long he’d been there.

Still how heavy his nephew slept amused him as his bare feet patted softly against the floor.

His mood soured, mind turning back to that night as it often did.

His numb mind pondered momentarily about how glad he was that Derek hadn’t been sleeping soundly that night, how glad he was that at least he and Laura weren’t there.

Screams echoed through his mind, but the room stayed quiet. Like always.

He turned his attention to the human in the bed. A few steps closer. He… seemed nice, Peter would give him that much at least. He smelt like an old teddy bear… a new sketch pad… like hot pencil and the smoke of burnt notebook paper. Peter wondered if Derek even noticed, how much he looked like that girl. Or maybe he was seeing things. Maybe he was still crazy. Maybe he shouldn’t have even come.

That Girl. His mind strummed as if his ears were ringing. “No no no no no no no.” He closed his eyes. That Girl. That Girl. it rang again. “I can’t, I CAN’T” He thought back. Derek would be mad. He would already be so mad. The thoughts all spun through his head too fast.

What if it saves him the betrayal you went through?

It could save his life. You really won’t save his life ?

He already hates you. No, he doesn’t. No, he doesn’t!

He would if he knew.

If he loved you he’d have visited.

Chris visited. And killed them all.

No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. It was your fault, Peter. No, you did. No, you did. NO! No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. They died because of you. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. It’s not true. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. They’d be alive if you cared about anyone but yourself. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. That’s not fair. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. Weee fooound yooou... No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. No, you did. SHUT UP! No, you did. SHUT UP! No, you did. SHUT UP!

Derek woke to the door slamming and a barely there scent he couldn’t place.

Chapter Text

“Oh, my God, how are we even friends? For the love of Gaia, Scott, Mati was the best planeteer, he was not just the heart and soul of the team, but the heart and soul of nature! He embodied goodness and compassion!” Stiles insisted at his phone as he stirred honey into his tea.

“Dude, whatever, he embodies shitty powers and general uselessness to the team.” Scott muttered, working on his homework while they talked. Stiles struggled not to burn his hand as he picked up his mug.

“Without him, Captain America would be a dick and the team-” Scott burst out laughing at him as he realized his mistake. “Oh my goooood….”

“Dude, Captain America? He’s already a dick.” Stiles gasped in offense.

“YOU SHUT YOUR BLASPHEMOUS MOUTH, that man is as perfect as his ass!”

“No way! He IS an ass!” Scott laughed. “He asked his crush if she was sleeping with a guy because they seemed generally kind of friendly!” Stiles huffed.

“He was awkward!!” He insisted.

“And was he ‘awkward’ in Avengers?”

“Well I mean…”

“Yeah, because I don’t think that excuses telling a humanitarian angel he’s a shitty hero because he’s mad that he’s actually super smart and attractive and charming and nice.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Ohmygod, they worked it out by the end, can’t you get over it? Tony was kind of a dick too.”

“Reactively! To his childhood hero being hostile toward him!! For not blindly trusting a shadowy government agency! It was rude, Stiles! It was a really shitty way to start a relationship.” Scott said, obvious distracted from his homework. Stiles rolled his eyes, walking towards the door as someone rapped on it.

“Look, nevermind? Finish your homework. I’ve gotta get the door, I’m putting you in my pocket.” Stiles heard Scott grumble in agreement as he did so, unlocking the deadbolt and opening the door with the chain still on and looking through to a 40-something year old man in generic brown slacks, a brown jacket, and a ball cap. “Hi.”

“Hey there, sport. Mind having your parents come to sign for a package?” He glanced to the guy’s truck. Black delivery van. Checks out.

“Sorry, they’re out. They should be home soon if you want to come back though.”

“Geez. Actually I’m kinda busy, would you mind coming out and signing for it?” The guy said unconvincingly, scratching the back of his neck, sounding rehearsed. Stiles furrowed his brows, trying to get a better look at the guy’s van, but he was in the way now. Shit.

“I thought you said you needed an adult to sign?” The guy chuckled drily, as he was going to explain, but Stiles got a sinking feeling in his stomach. He threw his body weight into slamming the door, but the man at the door did the same, managing to get his foot in between the door and the frame. Stiles didn’t even realize what would happen if he dropped his cup, just abandoning it for the sake of getting the door closed. He only realised what had happened when he heard a scream and burning on his foot. His weight slammed the door as soon as the man removed his foot in agony. Stiles locked the door before giving a dry(-ish) sob of pain and wrestling his phone out of his pocket.

“- I’m on my way. Stiles!!! Seriously say something!!!” Scott yelled out to him, in a panic.

“I’m fine, I’m okay, there’s a guy-” Stiles let out a scream of shock as a crowbar hit the living room window, bouncing off with hardly even a crack, a woman he hadn’t seen outside of it. He turned and limped quickly to the back door, putting the phone back to his ear. “There are people trying to break in.” He locked all three of the deadbolts on the back door.

“I figured, I’m coming, I’m gonna call the police, You should call Dean and Cas!” Scott huffed, obviously either running or riding his bike quickly. Stiles took some air freshener and sprayed it in the strange woman’s face as she looked in through the kitchen window, dropping it once she recoiled, gasping and yelling, to close and lock the window.

“Right, be careful, pretty sure they’re armed.” Stiles opened his contacts, only to hear a noise out on the side of the mud room. Was his window closed? Fuck, no. He hit the call button, running upstairs. The call clicked on as he made it to his room. The guy was already on the roof. He flung open the closet.

“Hey, Stiles. I was just about to call to see if you wanted to get lunch tomorr-” It was fucking Derek? How- No!!!!

“Fucking hell, I don’t need this right now.” He whined to himself, grabbing the shotgun and getting it ready.

“I’m… sorry???” Derek said confused. Why the fuck was the safety on?! He didn’t have time for this!

“Oh god, no babe, that sounds-” The gun fired as the man was climbing in. Taking a good amount to the face, he fell backwards screaming, rolling straight off the roof. Stiles put the gun down and ran to close and lock the window, ignoring the rock salt embedded in his wall. He picked the phone back up. “-great, but I was actually trying to call Dean.”

“Stiles, what the hell was that?!” Derek exclaimed, worried.

“My closet shotgun?” Stiles panted in return. “There’s people trying to break i-” Stiles dove to the ground on instinct and training as the window shattered with the unmistakable ring of another gunshot. He stared at the window, phone still at his ear, Derek’s shouting unintelligible. “They have a gun…” He muttered, being careful as he ran to the door, then to Dean and Cas’ room.

“STILES!!” He could finally hear Derek yell through the phone. “ARE YOU OKAY?” He couldn’t breathe. They were in his room. He could hear them opening his window. He locked the door and started looking frantically, soon finding the handgun in the bedside drawer, He checked it was loaded as his dad had taught him, his hands shaking. He’d dropped his phone. He couldn’t pick it up. He couldn’t move but to aim at the shaking door, readying for if it broke.

Chapter Text

Cas was out of the car as soon as they saw the lights up the way, flying off in a panic. Dean parked a bit off and ran up the rest of the way, trying to find his family in the mess of squad cars and ambulances. He found them at an ambulance, Derek and Scott with them.

“I told you, it’s fine. I only let them bandage it so they’d shut up.” Derek was telling Stiles.

“I’m not even hurt. You’re both worrying over nothing.” Stiles insisted, though his shaking wasn’t convincing. Cas sighed as Dean joined them.

“Can someone please just tell us what’s going on?” Cas’ voice was rough and stern with worry anyway.

“I-I’m sorry, I tried to call you guys, but I hit the wrong button and-” Dean shook his head.

“We’re not mad, kid, we’re just worried as hell. Okay? Just tell us what happened.” He said, doing all he could to make his voice soft. Stiles sighed shakily.

“There were these two people trying to break in, when I locked up the first floor they try- tried to get in my window, I shot one of them in the face with the shotgun you gave me and closed and locked it, but they had a gun and shot it in, and-” Stiles spoke so fast his cheeks got red and he lost his breathe. Dean tried not to tense as Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles where he sat on the back of the ambulance, speaking lowly to him.

“You’re okay now, I’ve got you, it’s gonna be okay… Just breathe…” Derek told him serenely and Stiles did as he was told.

“I locked myself in your guys’ bedroom with Dean’s gun until Scott and Derek got here. Derek got shot in the arm and Scott tore their front bumper off… And I had a panic attack, like the useless bag of bones and flesh I am.”

“Stiles, you shot a guy in the face.” Scott and Derek said more or less at the same time, only differing in their levels of enthusiasm.

“Sounds pretty badass to me too, bud. How’re you doing now ? You gonna be okay? What’d the medic say?” Dean asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“She was worried I might be going into shock, but since I’m not hurt and I told her I’m just having an anxiety attack, she said I would be fine and to just go to the hospital later if I started feeling odd.” Stiles shrugged. “Otherwise I’m fine to stay here.” Cas sighed in relief.

“Good. You boys should go inside. Dean and I will speak to the law enforcement and see if they’ll be needing anything else.”

~~~

“Dean, cooooome ooooooon!!!” Stiles whined, loudly and angrily. “He got shot! Doesn’t that earn him one private lunch date?” Dean sighed as he set the table not wanting to do it later.

“I’m very grateful for that, but it’s still a no.” Stiles groaned, throwing his head back.

“Whhhhhhhhhhhhhhyyyyyyy?!”

“Tomorrow’s a weekday. Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” Crowley asked as he headed through towards the kitchen.

“After the game yesterday, he got it off.” Scott answered instead, setting out the silverware as Dean finished setting down the plates.

“And I almost died earlier, but I mean that’s for the support anyway.” Stiles said with flippant morbidity, just kind of glad that Scott wasn’t sabotaging things with Derek for once.

“Oh, I’m still with Dean. Don’t like him.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It’s not because I don’t like him.” Dean insisted. “There’s just a lot of shady shit going on, and I don’t want you galavanting off with that guy.”

“We talked about this, he didn’t do anything!!” Stiles insisted back even louder. Dean set the last plate down with a loud ‘tink’.

“Even if he hasn’t done anything wrong, he’s at the center of it. His sister gets killed, Scott gets bit near his land, Chris has some kinda vendetta against him for god knows what, and if he is telling the truth, it just means whoever killed that woman is now his pack’s alpha. For all we know what happened earlier could have had something to do with being involved with him.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it! It was a break in, and besides it could’ve been a thousand things! I’m sure you guys have some enemies of your own.” Dean gave a stern look.

“Oh, please, we both know that wasn’t just a break in. Burglars steal shit, they don’t hunt down snarky teens and waste ammo.”

“Whatever, it could’ve been some random psychos! Or maybe they just wanted revenge, people tend to get annoyed when you shoot their friends in the face.”

“I don’t care, Stiles!” Dean nearly yelled. “He attracts trouble!  I’m not going to have you two run off alone somewhere to make out and get killed! I’m not going to let you both put yourselves in a vulnerable situation where I can’t protect you!”

“We won’t be alone, we’re going for lunch, that’s it!” Dean shook his head, giving a rye laugh.

“Well, if I could trust you to keep your word on that, I wouldn’t be worried about it, but you’ve shown pretty clearly that your obedience is about as good as your judgement!!” Dean turned and went into the kitchen in hopes to end the discussion, but of course Stiles followed.

“I get that, but then don’t take my word for it, take Derek’s! Does he really seem the type that going to cross you and put me in danger just for some horror movie car make out in the broad daylight?!” Dean sighed, filling a large pot with water. “And he’s proved pretty well he can protect me just fine!”

“All he proved is he can get shot like an idiot.” Dean snapped back. “Pack a bullet with wolfsbane or hemlock or nightshade and he’s useless! It. Is not. Safe!” Crowley shrugged as Stiles growled in frustration ready to go on an angry teenaged rant which would certainly be annoyingly well argued.

“For hell’s sake, Squirrel, just send a pup with the brat and they’ll have all the protection they need. You know you want to let him go, and Lord knows he deserves it.” Stiles raised an eyebrow at them both.

“A pup??”

“Crowley,” Dean shook his head. “You really expect me to put one of your stupid murder-beasts near my kid?”

“You think I won’t punch you in front of them?” Crowley said angrily putting down his cup of... Tea?

“ They murder people! ” Dean yelled back pointedly.

“ They’re good dogs, Dean!!! ”

“Mongrels….” Lucifer muttered as he and Sam wondered in.

“ You are dead to me. ” Crowley responded with just as much passion, pointing at the other devil.

“How’d they get on hellhounds?” Sam asked Scott and Stiles. Stiles sighed.

“Crowley suggested I take one on Derek and I’s date tomorrow, Dean doesn’t want me to for obvious reasons.”

“Are they soft??” Scott asked as an aside.

“Dean, why don’t you send Juliet? She’s even house broken.” Sam suggested, ignoring Scott.

“House broken?” Dean scoffed. “Sam, do you remember what she did to Baby?!”

“That was a year ago, she’d never been in a bloody car, and your damn seats smell like death!” Crowley cried. “You can’t blame her for that!” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean, she’s gotten better. Besides, what’s more important, Stiles’ safety or Derek’s camaro?” Dean made a face and Sam gaped at him. “ Dean! ”

“Fine!!” Dean whined. “Crowley get your stupid dog.” Crowley glared at Dean as Sam opened the back door to the mud room so he could leave.

“She was smart enough to maul your dumb ass.” And with that Crowley disappeared.

Chapter Text

Derek got an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach as he pulled up and got out of his car. He couldn’t tell if it was because of all that had went on earlier, or if he’d started to associate it with unease, or if it was just the fact that the house was just as foreboding as his family’s now decrepit manor, as small and new as it was in comparison. He looked around for the tall, older blond man, wondering if he was still banned from the house. It was silly, Derek realized, as even if he was, there was no reason he could think of why he’d still be hanging out around the front yard. Or the house for that matter. He walked up slowly. Calmly, forcing himself to chill out, appreciating on his way to the door that it really was a pretty nice bit of real estate. He tried to be gentle as he knocked. After an agonizing minute, the door opened. Derek was surprised, first that the door opened entirely, without the chain lock, and secondly that he didn’t recognize the short, suit-clad man who answered. However, this man seemed to recognize him after an evaluating once over.

“The shady boyfriend, I take it?” He said in some sort of British accent. Derek sighed, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. He went to Columbia, for fuck’s sake .

“Apparently.” He deadpanned. “My name’s actually Derek, if anyone cares?” The man gave a laugh but only for about 3 seconds.

“Wrong house for that. What’d’you want, love?” Derek shook his head, giving up more or less.

“I wanted to check in on Stiles. He’s expecting me.” The man raised his eyebrow.

“Are Squirrel and Feathers?” What? His furrowed brow was met with an eye roll. “ Daddy and Papa …”

“Oh. I… would assume Stiles let them know?” The man shrugged and moved to let him in. Derek stepped inside, feeling enveloped in the warm sounds of speaking coming from out in the dining room. He rolled his shoulders trying to feel comfortable in it. Scott had left about an hour ago. He wondered if Stiles was back down here with them, not bothering to listen to check, figuring it’d be rude. The man in the suit corrected him almost immediately.

“Lad’s up in his room.” He nodded to the stairs, sauntering back toward the dining room. He turned though, startling Derek as he followed close behind. “And hands to yourself, or I won’t be accountable for what kills you.” Derek was vaguely offended but shook his head. He wouldn’t bother with a reply. At least Stiles had so many people looking out for him, he figured. But the man turned back to leave again, and Derek gingerly climbed the stairs, for only the second time. He marvelled at how dramatic their relationship had been so far and was glad he and Stiles were finally going to have a normal date. He glanced towards the somehow already repaired master bedroom door as he walked by. He’d always been weird about magic. Even more so about Hunters’ uses of magic. It had always seemed hypocritical to him. He conceded that the Winchesters obviously weren’t the typical Hunters. But he was still caught off guard whenever he saw it, ever since he was a boy. He moved on, evaluating the other doors along the way, sniffing, a bit curious what was behind them. When he got to Stiles’ room the door was open. Derek stepped into the doorway, but as Stiles turned to look at him, he jumped as if startled. He held his hands up non-threateningly.

“It’s just me.” He assured, but Stiles huffed as he caught his breath.

“I can see that, I just didn’t expect anyone to be there.” Derek nodded, stepping in.

“Sorry, I should’ve let you know I was here…” Stiles shook his head, coming to meet him. He leaned up and kissed him though before anything else. It ended up being little more than a peck, but it was pleasant regardless, and he pulled Stiles into his arms after.

“I would’ve jumped anyway. I must still be hyped, I’ve felt eyes on me all day.” Stiles rested his head on Derek’s shoulder, relaxing into his embrace. He wasn’t as stiff as he usually was, but Derek chalked it up to exhaustion.

“Wouldn’t be surprised. You’ve had a hell of a day.” Derek murmured comfortingly, bringing his hand up to rub Stiles’ back as he started to pull away. “You wanted to talk about tomorrow?” Stiles gave a groan Derek could tell was trouble “What?”

“Do you want the good news first or bad?” He asked. Derek sighed.

“Good?” He replied, unsure.

“Good news, we’re allowed to go to lunch.” Derek’s gut lurched as his mind went threw even the most unlikely possibilities for the bad news. Break up, moving, joining a convent in El Salvador, going to die in seven days. He was glad Stiles paused so he could get his brain to focus. “But bad news is there’s a few conditions....” Derek nodded, sighing an internal sigh of relief. “We can’t be gone too long. I had to negotiate just for 2 hours.” That didn’t seem that unreasonable. Derek gave Stiles a nod to continue. “Dean wants us to stick to well lit, populated places. One of us has to drive because we’re not allowed to walk.” Derek nodded wondering what else there could be. There was definitely something else given the way Stiles froze, dragging out an “Uh”.

“Stiles, it’s okay. What else?” Derek thought he was being reassuring, but Stiles just bit his lip and pulled Derek over to the bed, making him sit down.

“Okay…. So, Dean wants ‘my uncle’ Crowley’s… dog… to come with us….” Derek relaxed instantly, giving a soft chuckle. Thank goodness .

“Stiles, that’s fine, I love dogs.” Derek had what was apparently a naive smile, judging by Stiles’ look of concern and pity.

“That- That’s good!” He said with obviously fake optimism. “Because she’s a very sweet… dog…” Derek raised an eyebrow as Stiles grabbed something off his desk. “Keep that in mind, because I’m going to show you something and I really need you to not freak out too much…” Derek eyed the glasses in Stiles’ hand questioningly.

“I promise nothing…” He replied, not liking where this was going. Stiles sighed as he brought the glasses over. He put his arm around Derek as he gave him the glasses and then pointed discreetly towards the window Derek noticed was fixed.
“On the floor under the window… Don’t freak out, it’s safe…” Derek furrowed his brow, questioning what the hell was going on. He slipped on the glasses and looked where he was told. He couldn’t help but jump up. He was probably lucky Stiles grabbed his arm, because this thing looked at him, and if he hadn’t had to worry about pulling Stiles’ arms from their sockets, he probably would’ve run like hell. “ Don’t run! She won’t hurt you, I promise, but if you run she might chase you…” He was frozen, staring wide eyed at the thing. Was this the dog? He supposed it kind of looked like a dog if you were looking for the resemblance but it looked more like some beast out of- wait.

“What did you say your uncle’s name was?” For some reason he whispered.

“Crowley…” Stiles answered reluctantly. “Derek, really, I’m sorry, but I swear she’s very sweet. If you’ll feel more comfortable seeing her, Crowley can make her visible to you. Or not. Whatever.” When Derek exhaled the breath he was holding, his lungs shook with fear.

“Okay…” He said softly. “I’m not saying no… But why do we have to take… her… with us?” Stiles took a deep breath and nodded.

“With all the shit we’ve both been through, Dean thinks we could use the protection.”

“You mean you?” Derek asked only looking away from the “dog” for a second, only to find her sitting at the foot of the bed when he looked back, wagging her tail with curiosity.

“No, I mean we. Crowley ordered her to look after us both while we’re out. That’s why I can promise she won’t hurt you.” Stiles pulled Derek back to the bed, and sat next to him as he kept his eyes on her. Stiles looked to her and back to him. “Do you want to pet her? She’s very friendly.” Derek stiffened in apprehension as the hellhound got up and walked the few steps to them. He raised his shaking hand for her to sniff. She accepted the offer, and after a moment, licked his hand. It burned just a bit, like flicking the cherry of a cigarette onto your skin on accident. He raised his hand to pet her chin, and then the side of her head once she leaned into it. He relaxed just slightly, just to the point where he stopped shaking.

“I have to admit, her fur’s really soft.” Stiles smiled, running his hand through her perpetually raised hackles.

“Her name’s Juliet. Crowley says she’s small, but she’s his favorite. She actually lives with him and Sam and Luc.” Derek nodded being careful of her multiple eyes as he moved to pet her head. “Hey, I’m sorry… You shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. If I was you, I probably would’ve run for the hills by now.” Stiles apologized, agonizingly genuine. Derek stopped petting Juliet and took off the glasses to turn and look at Stiles.

“No, you wouldn’t.” Derek said firmly.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t. That’s why I want to be with you. Because you haven’t, and you won’t. Yeah, this is kind of… weird. But you’re still here. And that’s rare for me.” Stiles looked down at his lap. Derek leaned over to speak softly into his ear, smiling. “And, somehow, you’re even weirder than me.” Stiles laugh half-heartedly and Derek kissed his head.

“Thanks…” Stiles sighed, sincere but exhausted too. Derek nodded, leaning back.

“Do you want me to go so you can get some sleep?” Stiles just whined.

“No, stay…” Stiles begged, though leaning his head on Derek’s shoulder.

“You’re half asleep, Stiles.”

“So??” Stiles huffed. “You can stay over, can’t you??” Derek laughed.

“Well ‘can’ is one thing, living through it is another…”

“Dean will be fine as long as long as I leave the door open… It’s warm, we won’t even have to sleep under the covers.” Derek wasn’t sure. Dean didn’t seem the most reasonable person, and “half asleep Stiles” was not an all there Stiles.

“Does he know I’m here?”

“ Yes, ” Stiles insisted. “You coming over was planned in advance, for once.” Derek sighed, much to Stiles’ apparent satisfaction as he shifted to lay out on the other side of the twin bed, which was obviously a tight fit for two pretty well grown men. Derek kicked off his shoes, officially giving in. Stiles was quick to cuddle up beside him. Derek considered turning the light off, but something at the end of the bed caught his eye. A flowering plant peeked over the bed by about a foot.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“Hm?” Stiles followed his gaze to the plant. “Oh, it’s nightshade. I bought it when I was visiting my dad at the cemetery. It bothering you? Scott hates it.” Derek shook his head.

“No. It tends to bother newer wolves more, I’ve heard. I’ve never really been bothered by it.”

“So... it doesn’t work??” Derek laughed.

“No, I’ve just never caused someone to need it.” Derek thought for a moment, wondering if it would really be a decent gift. “Where’d you say you got it??” Stiles looked to him.

“The flower place outside the back of the cemetery, I’m friends with the shop owner.”

“Do you think he’d have anymore?”

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. “They were growing outside so he potted a few of them. You want one?” Derek nodded.

“I was thinking of getting on for my mom’s old emissary. With what happened to Laura, a bit of extra protection might be good for him.” Derek looked down to Stiles, changing the subject.

“Want me to turn the light off?” Stiles shook his head.

“Could we leave it on? I just know the dark is gonna freak me out tonight…” Derek nodded and kissed Stiles’ head again.

“Of course…”

~!~

He woke up to the nearly unbearable shriek of an airhorn, and the sunlight coming through the window in his eyes. He assumed Stiles woke up too, seeing as he fell off the other side of the bed. Derek looked over sleepily to where Dean was standing in the door, a fake smile on his face.

“Morning, Sunshine. How’d ya sleep??” He asked sarcastically, before adorning a half-there annoyed sneer and shaking his head. “Get the hell out of my house by the time I get back from taking Cas to work, or you’re in trouble.” Dean tossed the airhorn aside before walking off, causing it to let out one more little squeak.

He and Stiles both assumed Dean turned the light off before waking them.

Chapter Text

Sam, Crowley, and Lucifer sat about the living room when Stiles came down the stairs. For some reason, the person he chose to make eye contact with was Crowley, who hardly looked up from his paper. “Real talk, how do I look?” He’d thrown on a pretty normal outfit but clothes from a couple years ago instead, as they were a bit more fitted. Crowley looked him over with detail before looking back down at the newspaper.

“You can’t pull off bed-head, comb your hair.” Stiles was too taken aback to realize this was more of a compliment that he otherwise looked good.

“I combed it, this is combed… Is it really not okay?”

“If it’s any consolation, I think you look great, Stiles.” Lucifer offered with the vaguest hint of a reassuring smile. Crowley scoffed though.

“Darling, you picked that vessel to try to seduce a 25 year old with a toxically masculine father, I don’t think you’re the best judge here…” Lucifer just gawffed.

“Hey! Sam worked out most of his internalized homophobia way before he met me, and besides, I had no intention of using sex appeal to get him to-” Stiles waved his arms through the air furiously, in mock panic, looking to Sam now instead.

“Sam, help please? He’s gonna be here any minute.” He practically begged.

“Uh, yeah, Stiles, um…” Sam looked over once he tried to pause the show he and Lucifer had been watching, settling finally to just miss a few seconds. “You look fine.” He offered not really putting that much thought into it, already looking back to the TV. “Uh, I’d say just straighten your shirt a bit maybe.”

“Great.” Stiles said, still nervous and not really satisfied with the critiques, however honest they were. He instead hurried toward the kitchen for further assistance. “Dean!” Dean turned just as Stiles made it there, a questioning look on his face. “Please tell me how I look?” Dean gave a “fine” kind of look, putting down the knife he was using to chop vegetables and giving a quick rinse and wipe of his hands before coming over and putting his hands on Stiles’ shoulders. He gave him a thorough once, twice, and third over, checking to see that everything one might observe about Stiles in close contact was in place as he figured Stiles wanted it. He pulled at Stiles overshirt a bit, making sure it sit properly, but still looked a bit messy. He went back to the sink to wet his hand and when he stepped back, ran it through Stiles’ hair getting it just a little wet.

“Now style it a bit, mess it up, whatever.” Dean told him, and Stiles obeyed, looking to him for confirmation. “Perfect. Did you brush your teeth? Deodorant?”

“Yeah.” Stiles answered, feeling a bit better.

“Good. You got your phone?” Stiles nodded. “Keys?” He nodded again. “Mace?”

“Dean, I don’t have mace.” He frowned, not knowing why Dean expected him to. But Dean looked confused.

“Didn’t we give you-” He seemed to take a minute to think back. “How the fuck did we not give you mace? I could’ve sworn- Alright, I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.” Dean went around him and the table over to the basement door. He unlocked it, locked it again behind him even though he’d supposedly be right back, and of course it opened again a minute and a half later and he locked it behind him, bringing over a pretty big, but still pocket sized can of mace. Stiles wasn’t going to complain honestly. There was no question he needed it, and when he thought about it, it was probably a good idea for all teens to carry a bit of mace or something for protection. Even if they weren’t friends with werewolves and so on. “Now, you’ve really gotta be careful with this stuff. This is beyond bear strength. Like strong as you can legally own, and even that’s pushing it. It has a bit of stuff in it to make it more helpful against a lot of supernatural creatures. Vampires, Werewolves, Demons, Wendigos- This shit’s just the bomb, okay? The mace itself though is very strong- like ‘you’re gonna be blind for a week’ strong, so no trying it out or pranks or anything, got it? It’s for if your life or safety are in danger. Understood?”

“Isn’t that a bit over the top?” Stiles asked, cursing his curiosity as he heard Juliet’s thunderously loud whining by the door.

“For most things it works about as well or less than normal mace on humans. This is specifically designed for hunting, that’s why.” Dean nodded Stiles to go on, following him to the living room as he gladly hurried to the door as the knocks came. Stiles checked the peephole first, despite Juliet’s insistent wagging. Seeing Derek there, he undid the chain and opened the door, welcoming him in as Juliet wiggled backward to let him in, but wanting to sniff at him at the same time. Derek smiled, petting Juliet in greeting, only giving a wider toothy one when he greeted Stiles, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“That won’t earn you any points with Dean.” Crowley scoffed to him. Derek looked to Dean with casual curiosity, scratching Juliet’s ear.

“Not fond of dogs?” Derek decided he shouldn’t have asked as he earned a heated glare.

“Mind your business?” Dean suggested, angrily and obviously offended. “You two are to be back here by 1.”

“Dean,” Stiles sighed. “Commute?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“That’s why you have 2 hours, not 1.” Stiles gave him a look, but Dean shook his head. “Hey, don’t give me that. If me and Cas can do with 40 minutes, you can make do with 120.” Stiles rolled his eyes now. “And behave.” Dean headed back towards the kitchen.

“He’s that mad about this morning??” Derek asked wincing, not knowing what else he could have done to earn such a biting answer. Crowley squawked with laughter.

“I like him, he’s an incredible idiot!” He remarked to Sam, who just rolled his eyes. Derek’s expression was a mix of a half contained glare and confusion. Stiles just patted his shoulder.

“Babe, maybe kind of… just a small suggestion... not take conversation starters from an actual demon?” Derek took a moment to let that sink in. He’d realized that Crowley was apparently a demon, what with the hellhound and all. But he hadn’t really thought about what exactly that meant. Like so. God, he felt so stupid.

“Sorry… How bad-” Stiles waved his hand flippantly.

“Not bad at all, he and Juliet just have... a rocky past…” Luc nodded, from the couch.

“Right, he’s died so many times I doubt he even cares anymore.”

“Died?!” Derek looked to Stiles and then to Juliet with wide eyes. “Juliet, you killed him?!?” Derek asked completely serious, not thinking it might look odd to ask that of a dog as if expecting an answer. Juliet tilted her head nonchalantly, confirming, yes, she had. He looked back up to Stiles, terror in his eyes. “ Stiles… ”

“I- b- Sh-”Stiles rubbed the back of his neck, not knowing what to say. “She’s a good girl now . She did that because she was told to, she can’t help what she was raised for!” Derek responded with a pained ‘ But still ’ face. “Just proves how good a guard dog she’ll be! Come ooooon, Derek, she’s the sweetest! Give her a chance??” Derek took a deep breath, still genuinely terrified. Dean leaned out of the kitchen to shout in though.

“Or, you know, don’t go? Because those are your options.” Dean went back to what he was doing, indicating he didn’t much care, or maybe, knew what his answer already was.

“Alright…” Derek sighed. “Just really hoping she doesn’t eat us…” He nervously pet her once more.

“Great!” Stiles’ grin lit up the foyer. “Um. We should go. Before another catastrophic revelation.” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Should I expect more than ‘your adoptive dad was killed by a hellhound’?” Stiles opened his mouth to answer, but the three on the couch laughed, and he opted to just grab Derek’s hand and get him to the car as soon as possible.

~!~

Derek frowned as he saw he almost walked into a familiar face. Stiles certainly wasn’t any more pleased. But at least he faked it better.

“Mr. Harris! Wasn’t expecting you here.” Stiles managed to say not as awkward as he felt, just coming off a laugh as he and Derek walked into the small restaurant downtown.

“I’d assume.” Harris said seeming equally displeased, as either of them. Derek bristled as Harris narrowed his eyes on Stiles. “Aren’t you out of school due to injury, Mr. Stilinski? Feeling well enough to go on dates though, hm?” Derek could hear Stiles’ well hidden sigh, but Stiles could hardly hide his glare.

“Well I’m sure you already know this, but in depth health studies have shown public schooling is an intense amount of emotional, mental, and physical labour, and puts even a healthy adolescent person through hell, with no payout to replenish them. Add an injury to an already not really prime specimen, and comparing that to recreational socialization proven to aid health and mood, and it’s kind of silly for anyone to compare them…” Stiles shrugged, with a fake, almost smug smile. “But I mean you’re on lunch. What d’you care, right? Enjoy your meal.”
“Mm-hm….” Harris responded, unsurprisingly not buying the reasoning. “Just don’t go exhausting yourself…” Harris went around them to the exit, being careful of his to go container. Stiles glared after him.

“God, he’s such a jerk…” Stiles spat annoyed. Derek kept his mouth shut, figuring he didn’t know the situation enough to suggest otherwise. He couldn’t say he disagreed, but… part of him appreciated the jerk-ness he’d seen at least.

~!~

“No way, bullshit!!!” Stiles cried, laughing hysterically as Derek drove.

“I swear- I swear to god.” Derek laughed with a wide smile.

“Then dude did it on purpose! You can’t ‘accidentally’ throw someone out a window!” Stiles insisted giggling.

“I was there! They were fucking around and just-” Derek motioned his hand. “ Three stories , fractured collarbone, seven stitches. I don’t think I could’ve gotten away with that with just that.” Stiles was gaping with a smile.

“And this is the same guy with the roach in his-” Derek nodded, laughing suddenly.

“Yeah! I swear, he had to be something , no way he was human.” Derek shook his head, putting his eyes back on the road.

“That’s insa- ”

It happened so fast.

Juliet’s sudden barking was near deafening. Derek lost control of the wheel, no matter how hard he gripped, it just tore out of his hand. The car jerked as it turned, whipping out of their own lane. They didn’t have the time to worry about the consequences of sliding into the wrong lane, as Derek saw the car hugging around the curve they had been approaching, and less than a second they both heard and felt it scraping the remaining back corner still in the proper lane. It ripped the tail light out as it zip down the road as if nothing had happened. Derek threw he hand out to Stiles’ chest, and neck, before slamming on the breaks. They whipped just as quickly to a stop, and Derek slammed forward, belt not doing much to stop his head from whipping into the steering wheel. But at least his wounds were already healing. He reached out to Stiles, relieved he was at least moving.

“Stiles? Stiles, are you-” Derek muttered, head foggy.

“ What the fuck. ” Stiles murmured in astonishment. “What the fuck was that? What kind of idiot drives like that!?” He exclaimed. Derek took his hand trying to comfort him. As he looked up out the windshield he thought he saw someone on the side of the rode. As his vision came back the figure went, and he looked to Stiles, who stared back at him concerned. “Fuck, you’re bleeding. Derek, you- you’re hurt.” Stiles reached out to touch his face, wanting to help but not knowing how. Derek shook his head, but pressed his cheek into his hand as he felt his own blood drip from his brow.

“It’s fine, I’m fine. It’s healing, it’s just healing the whiplash first. I’ll be fine in a second…” They both leaned back, catching their breath as Juliet whined and sniffed at them both, headbutting them. After a minute, Derek pulled back into their lane, running through what had just happened in his head. Stiles shook his head.

“Nice turn though…” He murmured to Derek softly. “ Fuck… ”

Derek didn’t know how to say it. Or even believe it.

Chapter Text

Dean smiled as he saw no teens in the room. Of course there wasn’t supposed to be, but suspiciously there were often kids who’d stay after class to ‘talk to’ Cas. He leaned in the doorway, watching Cas look over assignments. He said he didn’t see the reason in grading them for a course called “Art Expression”. It was sweet, but they’d see how it worked out in practice. “How’s the best husband ever?” He asked, trying to startle Cas out of his grumpy state.

“Well, or so it would seem by the smirk…” Cas said hardly glancing up as he set his papers aside. Dean gave a small laugh, not that surprised Cas turned it around on him. “Stiles and Derek are already out I take it?”

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “They should be getting back about the same time as me. Haven’t gotten a call yet, so I’m not that worried.” Cas stood to kiss Dean.

“Yes, you are.” Dean sighed.

“Yeah, maybe a little.” As they unpacked the lunch Dean had made, a simple chicken, veggies, and rice, Dean figured now was the best time to bring it up. “So… I was thinking, Stiles has been with us a couple weeks now… and I just kind of realized today, we haven’t shown him... the basement yet…”

“True…” Cas looked up to him, reluctantly musing in return.

“With all that’s going on, that he’s in the middle of… It’s kinda reckless at this point for him not to have access to it at this point.” He pulled a chair up to the other side of Cas’ desk as Cas sat thinking about it.

“I suppose you’re right…” Cas sighed. “I suggest we should show Scott and Derek too. It seems they’ll be spending a significant amount of time at the house, they might require its use as well.”

“Yeah, probably…” Dean agreed, shaking his head begrudgingly. Before he had the chance to speak again, a man, glasses, cardigan and jeans, stick up his ass it would seem, was in the doorway, knocking on the wall outside. Probably another teacher, Dean figured. He looked between them then back to Cas.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Novak. I’m interrupting, aren’t I?” Cas shook his head, giving the other a quick smile.

“It’s alright, Adrian. Just sitting down to lunch. Did you need something?” Adrian quirked his head, not a firm yes, but definitely not a no.

“I just thought I would return your paints. Thanks again for lending them to me.” Cas nodded as Adrian set them on a desk. Adrian nodded a hello to Dean. “You must be Dean. Nice to meet you, Cas talks about you a lot.”

“You too, man. I assume you’re a teacher too?”

“Yeah, I’m one of the science teachers. Stiles is actually in my Chemistry class.” Dean nodded, but Adrian continued before he could say anything. “I-I hope you two don’t mind, I hate to seem intrusive, but I want to make sure you’re aware. A few times now, I’ve seen him with a young man- um- an-an older young man. I actually ran into them earlier when I was getting lunch downtown. I’m not trying to judge, of course. Like I said, I’m just making sure you know he’s, uh... involved with an older man- and that my concern for his safety isn’t necessary…” Adrian exhaled his remaining breath upon finishing stumbling over the information. Dean forced a smile.

“Uh, yeah, we know about that unfortunately...” Dean laughed awkwardly.

“Yes, we do.” Cas added, giving Dean an annoyed look, before returning his grateful attention to Adrian. “It’s indeed nothing to worry about, Adrian. We’re keeping a very close eye on Stiles, and Derek is a very respectable young man. Thank you for checking in with us though, we very much appreciate the concern. We’re glad you’re kind enough to keep an eye on him too.” Adrian smiled.

“Great. I’ll leave you two to eat then…” With that Adrian left. Dean sighed once he was gone.

“Yeah, great.” Dean took another mouthful off his food. “Now we’ve gotta show him…” Cas glanced to Dean as he did the same, figuring he meant Derek but not knowing what he was getting that. “Gonna be a lot more questions if things ‘don’t work out’....” Cas rolled his eyes, giving an amused but disapproving shake of his head.

Chapter Text

Derek sighed as he saw Dean’s Impala pulling in. He kept his head down hoping Dean would just ignore him, as he really wasn’t in the mood after what had just happened. No such luck.

“Turn around, pal, we need to have a talk.” Derek rolled his eyes, letting his head loll back in done -ness, as Dean didn’t bother to not bump into him as he passed.

“Can we do this another time? I’m not in the mood for another threatening speech right now.” Derek asked, exhausted. But Dean stopped a few feet away, evidently waiting for him.

“Nope.” Derek’s sigh was almost a growl, as his irritation grew. “Don’t worry, most of it won’t be threatening.” Derek just shook his head, turning to Dean.

“Look, I’m exhausted, I just want to head home and take a nap in my car. Okay? Whatever it is, it can wait.” Derek didn’t want to be rude, but he thought maybe a bit of insistence would get through to Dean.

“Isn’t that gonna be kinda hard without your keys?” Dean jingled a set of keys in his hand. Derek checked his pocket, and of course, his keys were gone.

“The hell, man!” Derek spat with annoyance as Dean walked off towards the house. “Dean, seriously!” Derek shouted as he followed. Dean turned back to him once he opened the door, making him stop in his tracks.

“Just shut up and get in here for five freaking minutes and you can do what the fuck you want.” Dean stepped in, leaving the door open for him to follow, and after a few seconds he gave in, not really having a choice. He shut the door behind him.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked inquisitively, looking between them. Derek gave an annoyed look.

“He stole my keys.”

“Dean!” Stiles cried as if scolding him. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Will you both calm down for a damn minute?! Jesus, you act like I want him in my house!” Neither were any less annoyed, but stopped to listen. “Now. Stiles, we were very much hoping you wouldn’t need to know about this anytime soon, but it’s pretty apparent that’s not the case…” He looked to Derek. “And since you are apparently going to be spending time here, we figured you should have access too. Both of you, follow me…” Dean headed for the dining room. Derek and Stiles looked to each other before reluctantly going after him. By the time they caught up with him, he was standing at the basement door. “Listen up. I’ve had keys made for you both. There are only keys for the top two. There’s no key for the other two. Not even me or Cas have one. When you leave, as long as you’re sure no one’s down there, lock all three locks that you can. The last one only locks from the other side. Lock it and the only way to open it from this side is to pick the lock. Only use it in an emergency when you think who or whatever after you could have a key. We clear?” Stiles nodded, but Derek stared, brows furrowed in confusion. Dean looked at him. “What?”

“N-No, I-I get it, I just- What the hell is this?” He asked non-rhetorically. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“That’s next. Come on.” The light came on the second Dean unlocked and opened the door, and once the two of them were in, Dean turned and locked two of the locks. Dean went by them to go down first, and they shared a glance to each other before following him still. When they got to the bottom of the stairs, they saw two archways, a metal door right beside them at the bottom, a doormat under their feet, and besides the strange rooms surrounding them and a drain in the middle of the floor with a reddish-brown stain that Derek thought vaguely smelt like blood, it seemed like a normal basement, with normal basement things. A step stool, some rotating fans, a hot water tank, a fuse box, and so on. Dean took a look through the two archways then turned back to them. “This... is the safest place on Earth. The president doesn’t have a safe room this safe. Down here is anything you could possibly need to protect yourself.” He motioned them over to the archway next to the metal door. Inside that room was a large table with laptops at each seat, a number of wardrobes and dressers, and shelves of books on the walls. “This is the research room. Books on just about every creature across just about every folklore on the planet and then some. We even have a book to help you find the book you need, indexed by creature name, MO, and appearance.” Dean patted a thick grey binder sitting on the table. Dean moved over to the other archway, which they could already see, a room full of storage containers, cabinets, safes, weapon racks, and more. Derek noticed more of the reddish stains around the room too, but the drain in the middle of that room was unstained. He was sure it was blood now, though from what he couldn’t discern. He decided to just stick to Stiles’ side. Stiles didn’t notice the blood stains, and took Derek’s hand, figuring he was getting jumpy because of the guns. Dean nodded to the room. “This is basically our armoury. In here is everything you need to kill or ward off anything or anyone who might be trying to kill you for any reason.” Dean walked in, over to a white binder, just as thick as the other, sitting on a filing cabinet. “We have another directory for in here. It will tell you what effects what you’re using has on various creatures, but they aren’t indexed by it, so if you need to know what to use on something, use the directory in the other room, any books highlighted red will have info on how to kill the specific creature.” Dean opened a large first aid cupboard on the wall above the filing cabinet, pulling out a box of dust masks and a pair of safety goggles. “Some of the stuff in here will be dangerous to get anywhere,” He nodded to Derek. “Especially for you and Scott. We have gloves too. General rule is, if you don’t know it won’t hurt you, use protection…” Dean gave a thinking look. “Which is honestly just a good rule in general.” Dean motioned for them to come in as he went over to a storage cabinet and opened it. “Basic stuff you’ll probably need to know: We’ve got bags of salt in here, make a ring of it or spread it across entryways and it’ll keep out ghosts and demons. That’s why all of the doors and windows in the house are salted.” Derek and Stiles followed him over to a set of smaller cupboards, Dean took out a few big labeled jars of colored powder, he patted the jars. “Humans should not ingest these at all ever. Do not inhale them, do not eat them, I’d suggest not getting them anywhere. They will do terrible things to you. Mostly death. For werewolves and shit, the effects are a bit more varied, details on the jars, yada yada.” Dean paused for a beat to put on his best stern attitude, pointing at Derek warningly. “I’m gonna tell you this right now, and I’m sure as hell gonna tell Scott later. Do not use any of these to get drunk or high. It’s dangerous and unhealthy, and I can and will lock you in in the safe room alone til you sober up.”

“Sounds like something you’ve had to do before…” Derek said, brow raised. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Cas’ vessel’s daughter thought it would be fun to try. It wasn't. She tried to pick up a full library sized bookshelf.” Derek was a bit surprised Dean actually had werewolves he was friendly with, but nodded in agreement.

“Don’t worry, I have my own ways, and I really don’t drink much…” He looked around, shifting uncomfortably. “Are we done here then??” Dean shook his head, unfortunately.

“We’ve still got the safe room, come on.” Dean slipped past them, and Derek tried not to sigh in aggitation as they followed. In all actuality, this was a pretty nice gesture considering this was Dean Winchester. The least he could do was stick around a bit longer. But the hairs on his spine were still all prickly. Dean stopped at the thick metal door next to the research room, and opened it with the large circular hatch like handle that made it look it was ripped off an old boat or submarine or something. Inside was a bed, and a small desk. The room wasn’t very big. “The door and walls are all iron, treated with holy oil, salt, and other shit to ward off just about anything. It’s basically impossible to get in or out of. Inside there’s a switch just like this one.” He pointed to a circular switch, a pentagram carved into the metal under it. “They seal off the door so the handle can’t open it. And that’s about it. Only a handful of beings can get into this, and we’re friends with most of them.” Dean closed the door. Stiles crossed his arms, sighing.

“Are we done now?” He asked impatiently. Dean crossed his arms back at him, looking between them.

“Okay. What the hell’s wrong with you two? You were supposed to go out and have a nice fun time. Why’re you both in a mood?” Dean asked with a health amount of irritation and concern. Derek looked to Stiles as Stiles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Nothing, we’re not-” Stiles shook his head, too exhausted to bother at this point. “Some idiot was driving on the wrong side of the road on the way home and almost hit us. We’re fine though, by some miracle we got out of the way.” Dean took that in for a moment, waiting out the outrage of them almost getting hurt, until he was calm enough to just be glad they were alright. He nodded to Derek.

“Well, at least you put those reflexes to good use, huh?” Dean noted the suspicious look the two gave each other, but didn’t say anything.

“One use for them. Can I get my keys back now?” Derek sounded a bit more exasperated than polite, but Dean slipped a smaller keyring onto his, two new keys hanging off it. He handed them back,only to turn and head for the stairs. Derek and Stiles looked to each other, but both decided it was best not to question it, following back to the door gladly. Dean looked over his shoulder as he took out his own keys.

“You should really get a motel room or something if you’re gonna be sticking around.” Once he realized Dean meant him (obviously), Derek shrugged uncomfortably at the subject.

“Been thinking about it.” He lied. He had no interest in getting a guest room anywhere. He didn’t know why, but it made him tense just thinking about it. He didn’t want to feel like a visitor in the town that was supposed to be his home. That should have been his home. Staying in a hotel would be even more uncomfortable than sleeping on whatever he could in his burnt down home was. He’d considered an apartment, but he hadn't had much time to look yet. Dean pulled at the knob, but it didn’t open. He stared confused at the locks, then put his key back in the top lock. He pulled again. Still locked. He unlocked the top lock again since it obviously wasn’t the problem. He examined the set of locks again before taking out his phone.

“Who’s home right now? B’sides us.” Stiles scratched the back of his head, as Derek just tried to wait patiently.

“No one? Well Luc, I guess, but he’s off in the backyard somewhere I think.” Dean sighed, putting his phone away and pulling at the door again before calling past it gruffly.

“Lucifer!!! Unlock the damn door, you feathery dick!!” There was no response, and for some reason, the silence felt creepy. The return of Dean’s yelling nearly made Derek jump. “Lucifer!!! Open the fucking door!!!” Just a second later, Derek could hear footsteps in the house. After a few more, a voice answered.

“Dean?? Where are you?” Dean just gave an annoyed shake of his head and yanked at the handle again. The steps to the door were quick. “Hold on a second.” The locks were messed with a bit before the door finally opened. Dean was quick to storm into the dining room in a huff. Stiles and Derek followed pretty swiftly.

“That’s not funny, asshole. Don’t fuck with the basement door.”

“What??” Lucifer’s face was 3 parts confused and 1 part offended. “What are you even talking about?” Dean scoffed.

“Don’t play dumb, okay? You finally figured out pranks. Adorable. But don’t fuck with the basement door.”

“I didn’t do anything to your door. I wasn’t even here, you ignorant little ape!” Lucifer motioned to a small bundle of flowers on the table to prove his point. The two continued to argue as Stiles pulled Derek into the living room, apparently more used to that than him.

“That-... Should we tell him about…?” Derek asked apprehensively. Stiles just sighed.

“Yeah, I’ll tell him. Sorry again, for the stress.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Stiles. I had a great time.” Derek lazily pet Juliet as she came over to them again.

“Besides almost dying and literally getting locked in my creepy murder basement?” Stiles asked, quirking a disingenuous smile.

“Well,” Derek chuckled. “It could’ve been worse… At least we got to spend some time together. Right?” Stiles’ smile got wider, and a little more genuine. He stepped forward, arms quick to rest around Derek’s neck, and Derek wasn’t sure which one of them actually leaned in for the kiss, but his hands were on Stiles’ hips, and they were both smiling, and it only stopped because they both laughed like idiots.

Chapter Text

“You’re really sure about Wednesday?” Stiles asked through the phone, gently untangling one of Lydie’s branches from his bed frame. “I can tell Lydia you can’t make it if you don’t wanna go.”

“Are you sure your confidence isn’t from your little friend there?” Derek laughed.

“Shut up.” Stiles’ said with a huff that turned into a laugh. “Seriously. I don’t want to make you do anything you aren’t comfortable with. Especially hanging out with a bunch of teenagers.”

“No, it’s fine, Stiles, really.” Derek sighed, sounding like he was shifting around. “I’m happy to go out with your friends, they seem nice. Like I said, it’s just that I don’t get out much period.” Stiles nodded.

“Okay, I guess… I’ll call you tomorrow with the plan then, kay?”

“I’ll look forward to it. Talk to you later. Sweet dreams.” Derek muttered, sleepiness creeping into his voice as he obviously suppressed a yawn.

“Kay.” Stiles smiled as he pushed Juliet’s snout away from Lydie. “Night, love you.” Stiles didn’t have the presence of mind to acknowledge the stiff silence as he went to hang up or the audible, deep breath Derek took before he did. In fact he didn’t even realize what had just happened until he was putting the phone down. He stopped, gripping it tight as his mind retraced the words just fresh off his tongue. “Oh, no…” He went to his bed and sat on the covers, rocking immediately, Juliet rushing to him. She whined with worry, wondering what had happened. He wondered for a moment if it was really that bad. It was. Oh, God, it was it was it was. He put his hand over his mouth, an active reminder to control his breathing. It wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t the end of the world. It was easily explainable. It was vaguely acceptable. It’s not like he said it to a teacher. He said it to his boyfriend. Barely two weeks in. But still! It wasn’t an unacceptable context. It wasn’t an unbelievable misstep. He could redeem this. If Derek didn’t immediately send him a break up text, it would probably be fine. Forgettable. Maybe, if he was lucky, they’d never speak of it again. Stiles jumped a foot as his phone rang. His breath came back to him as he say The Queen Bitch show up for the contact. He picked up, taking a breath.

“Lydia, I’m gonna die right now.” He said all too quickly.

“What? 10 minutes ago you were texting me memes, what the hell happened?” Stiles moved to curl up against the headboard as Juliet climbed up.

“The L-word…” Stiles said not quite knowing if his panic was getting better or worse. Lydia seemed to stop what she was doing, if the sudden background silence was anything to go by.

“No.” She responded, with a small bit of hope that Stiles was fucking with her. With his silence she gave an almost pained hiss. “With Derek? Did he say it or you?” Stiles covered his face with shame.

“I said it to him…” It was easy to tell Lydia was trying to hold back her instinctual groan of sympathy.

“Oh, sweetie…”

“I know!!” He yelled back. “I didn’t even- It was an accident, Scott just left before I called him, so when we were hanging up I just said it as a goodbye out of habit!!”

“Do not tell him that! Trust me, that is so much worse.”

“I know,” Stiles sighed. “Oh my god… I’m such an idiot, he’s gonna dump me, I feel so fucking stupid.” Lydia sighed right back.

“I’m- I’m sure he’s not taking it half as bad. Right? I mean you two are so... puppy together...” Stiles blinked in confusion as Lydia didn’t correct herself.

“...Lyds, puppy isn’t an adjective.”

“I know that! Ugh…” Stiles could hear shifting through the phone as she moved around. “You know what I mean? You’re all cute and everything… I mean yeah, you guys haven’t been together long…. And I still can’t tell my boyfriend I love him without having an anxiety attack… but Derek seems a lot more well adjusted than either of us? So for all we know he might feel the same way?”

“Lydia.... I’m me. ”

“Yeah? You’re funny and cute and you literally have that boy wrapped around your finger? He could totally be wrecked over you saying you-- that word… him…”

“Oh, that’s bullshit and you know it.”

“Is not.” She responded glibly. “He likes you a lot, Stiles.” She sighed through the phone. Do you want Jackson’s number so he can give you a pep talk? He’s a lot better at it.” Stiles twisted his brow in confusion.

“... No?” In all honesty he had considered it, but he wasn’t going to bother Jackson with his shit, and he certainly wouldn’t want Lydia to know it was tempting. Her next sigh was more sulking.

“Do you want me to come over??” She asked. Stiles didn’t know what to make of the overwhelming sincerity.

“Lyds, it’s almost 11.”

“So?” She said as if shrugging.

“We have school tomorrow.”

“Are you actually going to get to sleep?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Stiles stared up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how he was gonna manage that.

“Okay… If you can’t, call, alright? I’ll bring you something.”

“Right…” Stiles smiled even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “Thanks, Lyds.”

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He nodded. He sighed as the phone call ended in his ear. He stared at the phone the rest of the night, both hoping for it to vibrate, but dreading that it might.

Chapter Text

He smiled as Laura laughed, trying to fish an eggshell out of the bowl of eggs. He tried to ignore the fact that his apartment was way brighter than usual.

“Did you finish your thesis?? How’d it do?” Her voice echoed across his ears.

“Good. Good…” He repeated, finding his voice like shaky footing. “My professor thought it was the best in my class.” His head was swimming.

“-uation? Do anything with your cap?” He shook his head.

“No. I didn’t go.” He ignored how she kept smiling.

“You’re seeing someone right?? What’s he like?” He shrugged.

“He’s… fun. We get along really well. He reminds me of you a little.” Laura smiled.

“That much of an ass huh?” Derek blinked and half the conversation had gone by. “I just worry about you, ya know? After what happened-” He couldn’t help the anger or the pain in his chest.

“He’s not like that.”

“I know… But he’s not like us.”

“Why should that matter?”

“What if you lose him like you lost Paige?” The echo was painfully absent. Her voice was stabbingly sharp. Nor was it hers. He knew that.

“He’s not like Paige. He’s protected. He’s safe.”

“There’s no such thing as safe though, is there? We thought we were safe here. Look what happened.”

“Stop.”

“You have to be careful, Derek.” He heard her words as her own, dug out from his memory. That just made it all the worse. “Is loving him really worth losing him?” His head felt like his heart when he cried. Shaking and out of control. He didn’t know what to say, what to do.

“Yes.”

“Derek, don't.” The voice was soft. Everything was soft. And white. Or maybe black? He couldn't tell. It was all so soft. Comfortable. Time had passed. It must have been a while, because now he was dazed, as if he was deep in sleep. He looked for the voice, and found himself looking at Stiles, standing a few yards away.

“Hey.” Derek said, not sure if he should expect a response. But he smiled back.

“Hey…” Stiles held out a hand. “Derek, come here…”  It didn't feel strange but still his caution pull at him.

“This is a dream… You aren't really here.” Stiles nodded.

“Nope. All in your head.” The playful tone was pulled from his own mind, sounding ever so similar to the real thing. It felt nice. Stiles motioned with his hand. “Come on, Derek…” He stepped ever so softly towards Stiles, almost stumbling. For a little while, Stiles remained just out of arm's reach with every step he took. Still, Stiles encouraged him on, calling him closer. Derek wasn't sure it was wise, but he still didn't stop. He was still swift to take Stiles’ hand the second it was in reach. Stiles laughed as Derek pulled him closer. “That's better…” The more he nuzzled into Stiles neck the more it felt like they were floating.

“Stiles…” He whimpered to his own mind as he reveled in snuffling in every tiny detail of his memory of Stiles scent. Groaning mindlessly at the soft brush of his skin, and the soft laugh, and the feel of lips pressing to his head. He dusted Stiles’ neck and down his collar with gentle kisses, nipping even more gently where it was too tempting not to. He knew there was no danger in it, but treaded with caution regardless. Much the same way he knew the blissful dream wasn’t Stiles, but still his mind whined with the guilt of bordering on “taking advantage”. There was just something that felt so real about the body under his hands, in his embrace, as his nails gazed gently over the soft pale skin. He could almost really feel Stiles’ hands run through his hair with his calming rhythm. His ears rung with the memory of the way Stiles hummed in his chest when they had curled up together the night before. Something pulled at his heart, and he pressed his gritted teeth against Stiles’ cool skin, whining as it skipped again and again painfully in his chest. He tried to focus on Stiles’ gentle grip on the back of his neck, or the low heat passively seated in his stomach. He dug in his head for memories of Stiles that would help him shake the feeling, help him stay in this moment for longer, even if just a little.

“I love you…” The words came back to his mind again so gentle and casual and sweet and kind . The tears that welled in his eyes and quickly overtook him were so hot and violent and real he knew he had to be crying in his sleep. He managed not to wake from them, and once they’d shaken every last bit of wakeful out of him, his mind pulled him into a deep restful sleep.

“ You. ” The word startled him awake. He looked around only to throw his arm over his eyes at the vibrant morning light that enveloped him. “What are you doing here?” He adjusted what little he could before looking to the source of the familiar voice. He was up somewhere, and on the ground calling up to him stood Stiles’ adoptive “uncle” Luc… Next to their patio… Oh, fuck…. Was he-?
“Oh, fuck…” He muttered as he realized where he was.

“That isn’t an answer…” He realized Luc didn’t seem pleased, nor patient.

“I don’t know.” He answered quickly. “I sleep walked…” From the way Luc raised his eyebrow, frown still unforgiving, gave Derek the impression he didn’t much care.

“Great, well, whats-its-name isn’t here…” Luc replied sternly. Derek sat up on the already warm roof tile, ready to make a smooth escape when the back door opened. He went rigid with fear before Sam walked over into the yard.

“Lucifer, what are you-” He looked up, a look of confusion quickly spreading over his face. Derek gave a meek wave. “Hey… Uh…. What are you doing here?” Derek shrugged.

“Dunno, I just woke up…”

“You don’t remember coming here? Did… Did you turn?” Derek rolled his eyes.

“No. I’ve been asleep all night, I must’ve slept walked over…” He ran a hand through his messy hair. “Sorry, I should just go…” Sam shook his head.

“It’s fine… Um, when did you go to sleep, Derek??” Derek furrowed his brows a little at that.

“I passed out around 10:30, why?”

“It’s quarter to one… You should come in, have some breakfast or something.” Derek was taken aback for a minute, but eventually got down anxiously.

“You’re sure? You don’t have to do that…” Sam nodded, leading Derek to the door.

“Yeah. There’s something on TV you should probably see.”

Chapter Text

“Raw?” Scott asked as if shocked. Stiles rolled his eyes.

“No, Scott, I’m sure you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven- Yes, raw.” Their conversation on the topic of the blood covered bus was interrupted as Harris cleared his throat, obviously at them, drawing their attention back to the front.

“Mr. Stilinski, if that’s your idea of a hushed whisper, it might be a good idea to take the headphones out every once in awhile…” Harris said, barely containing an annoyed sigh. “I think you and Mr. McCall could do with some distance.” Stiles racked his mind for some kind of response to get out of this, but came up with nothing.

“Wha- No??” He responded in a whimpering whine, but Harris just motioned Scott to a seat up front.

“Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much for you.” The lesson continued with no more distraction other than Jackson gently punching Scott’s shoulder from behind. Stiles considered seeing if Jackson would pass notes for them, but he figured Scott wouldn’t want to trust Jackson not to look. Besides, Scott’s handwriting was often illegible. After a minute of undisturbed note taking, a girl by the window stood up, and called to the rest of the class.

“Hey, I think they found something!” Stiles wondered how silly she’d have felt if no one else had cared, but of course they did, and they all came running, including him and Scott. Out in the parking lot, along the poorly maintained and just poorly placed fencing that left several openings into the brushy woods, a set of paramedics rolled a gurney. On it, an older man, wide set with hair going white was lying motionless as far as they could tell, and covered in blood, centered around the bloody tears in his clothes. He tried to comfort Scott and the class at large, that they wouldn’t leave a dead body uncovered, and that paramedics wouldn’t deal with it and put it in an ambulance, but even with Jackson’s agreement, it didn’t settle Scott’s nerves at all. Suddenly the class jumped. The man had jolted up suddenly, yelling wildly and grabbing at the paramedics. Stiles nudged Scott a bit as they stepped back from the crowd.

“Hey, look, he’s alive, he’s okay!” He whispered. “Dead guys can’t do that.” Scott just kept staring out the window, horrified as they loaded the terrified man in the ambulance.

“Stiles… I did that…”

Chapter Text

“Let’s talk about something a little less depressing…” Lydia sighed, before giving an upbeat smile, and looking to Stiles then Scott and Allison. “Like what we’re gonna do tomorrow night.” Scott and Allison froze up quite a bit.

“Um…” Allison looked to Scott. “We haven’t really thought about it much…” Lydia looked away and Allison grabbed her water bottle.

“Well, we’re definitely not watching lacrosse videos...” Jackson rolled his eyes where he leaned in his chair, eating slowly. “So we have to think about something fun to do.” Stiles sighed while Scott and Allison whispered at each other, apparently having forgot they all had plans.

“Well, tall, dark, and grumpy is incommunicado so, I’m retroactively agreeing to ‘whatever’ to spite him…” Lydia looked between him and Jackson.

“What about a movie? That sounds like it could be fun.” Jackson just nodded sarcastically, looking to Allison and Scott as they somewhat came back to the conversation.

“Know what else sounds fun? Stabbing myself in the eye with this fork.”

“What about bowling?” Stiles asked, Lydia nodding along. “Lyds said you were really into bowling.”

“I was into it when I had actual competition , Stilinski…” Allison gave Jackson a cocky smirk from across the table.

“How do you know we’re not actual competition? ” She nodded to Scott. “You guys can bowl, right?” Stiles was just fixated on Scott as he fidgeted a nod.

“Yeah, kind of…” Jackson kind of smirked noticing Stiles’ horror, and leaned in, wondering what Scott was playing at.

“Is it ‘Kind of’, McCall?? Or is it a yes??” Scott mirrored him, more glaring than at all amused.

“Yes… In fact, I’m a great bowler….”

Chapter Text

Stiles sighed as he sat in his car, staring at the messages that he’d sent throughout the day, sitting on his screen unanswered. He wanted Derek to take all the time he needed to think, but he also didn't want to go home to the interrogation that sure awaited him. Of course, he didn’t think Derek had anything to do with the attack. But if he tried to convince Dean and Cas of that on nothing but his belief, not even having heard from him, he’d look like an idiot. He brought up the keyboard.

“ I know you’re probably fleeing town after what I said last night, but it’d be awesome if you could at least shoot me an ‘I’m alive and didn’t kill anyone, goodbye forever’, for when I get home and Dean starts drilling me for info. ” He typed out and hit send, sulking at the screen. Surprisingly, his phone dinged a minute later.

“ What? ” The message read. Another quickly dinged before he could touch the screen.
“ Stiles, no. ” Another dinged right after as he gripped his phone ready to tap the screen and answer.
“ I wasn’t avoiding you, I left my phone at home. It’s fine. ” Stiles sighed in relief.

“ Oh! Good. Sorry for blowing up your phone then… ”

“ Stiles, 3 texts, 1 asking if I’m okay, and another asking for my alibi isn’t really blowing up my phone. ”
“ You’re heading home already? ”

“ Yeah, so that alibi would be much appreciated, as I’m sure Dean’s having a minor conniption about this”

“ Don’t worry about that, I went to talk to him myself. ”
“ Scott going with you? I’m supposed to come over to help figure out what’s going on. ”

“ No, Deaton needed him. He said he’d be over whenever he let him go. ”

“ Oh, okay ” Derek responded a second slower than expected.
“ Sam asked me to come over to help out in case he can’t remember, hmu when he’s coming over ”

“ Again… ‘Help’... ”

“ I’ve been very nice since that? And I’ve helped repeatedly. ”

“ You are a very sweet, helpful person… And when it comes to ‘helping’ in the form of doing things I trust you entirely. It’s the communicating specifically with Scott in a civilized and productive manner is what I’m worried about... ”

“ Do you know anyone else who’s been dealing with this for 20 years? ” Stiles scratched his head, typing out Derek’s name with his other hand.
“ Because if you do, I’m game. ” He elongated the one word text before sending it.

“ Deeeeereeeeeek... ”

“ .... ”
“ That’s a no I take it? ”
“ Relax, believe it or not, I actually know what I’m doing for once. ”
“ It’s ultimately up to Scott if he wants my help or not. I’m not going to push him on it. ”
“ Either way, text me if you want me to come over. ”

“ Could you? ” Stiles gnawed one of his nails nervously.

“ Course. Now? ”

“ Yeah ”
“ Srry, I just really want to try and figure out as much as we can about what really happened. ”

“ I don’t need an excuse to visit you, Stiles. Seeing you is more than enough reason. ” Stiles smiled down at his phone, marveling at this sweet bastard he somehow found. His heart got warm and flitted in his chest like a bird at having someone actually want to see him. Or at least saying it. He jumped at the tap on his passenger side window. He was shocked to see Cas standing there, giving him a nod. He unlocked the door quickly, clicking his phone to standby as Cas climbed in.

“Hey. Thought the mob would be after you again?” He asked. Cas gave a perturbed eyebrow raise as he put on his seat belt.

“Yes, apparently they were all more concerned with the crime scene than discussing their projects for today, I managed to get out on time for once.” Cas gave him a quick once over as they started out of the parking lot and towards home. “How was your day? Is Scott alright? Did you and your friends come up with plans for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Scott’s a little worse for wear, but hopefully he’ll feel better once we figure out what happened. We’re supposed to bowling, but if he kind of wants to cancel if we aren’t sure it’s safe.” Cas gave what read as a sympathetic look.

“Why doesn’t he think it’ll be safe?”

“Well… He had a dream last night about the attack.”

“Oh…” Cas nodded. “Does that have to do with why he seemed so upset this morning? I wanted to stop you two, but you seemed to be in a hurry.”

“Yeah, it was just, the dream wasn’t about the guy they found… It was about Allison. He was worried it was her…” Cas furrowed his brows.

“Allison as in the girl or... young woman... he’s interested in, yes? He had a dream about her?” Stiles just nodded, looking over, and quickly back to the road.

“Yeah. Why? That weird??” Cas shook his head and looked back out the window at the scenery.

“Sam knows more about the situation than me, he can explain better once we get home.”

Chapter Text

Scott nearly dropped the box he was holding. That’s not possible. He thought. But his eyes welled up, and his throat choked up at that familiar smile. He couldn’t believe this. He didn’t think before throwing the box onto the nearest flat surface and bolting to the door. He felt like if he wasted a second, whoever- whatever he was seeing would be gone.

“Scott?” Deaton asked side-eyeing him as he rushed for the door to the lobby. But as he flung the door open, his grin dropped and his heart broke as Tara from the police station smiled up at him, bringing back a german shepard.

“Hey, Scottie.” She noticed the confusion and sadness in his eyes. “What’s wrong, hun?” Scott’s voice broke as he looked around the lobby. Not with tears, not yet, but with plenty disappointment.

“I just-.... I-I swore I saw-...” Tara sighed and gave him a comforting rub of the shoulder.

“It’s okay, Scott, it’s just the grief. A lot of us at the station have seen him… It’s normal.” She shrugged. He tried to blink away the water in his eyes.

“It didn’t… feel… normal….”

Chapter Text

“Stiles!! Derek’s here!” Sam shouted up the stairs from the door.

“He’s got headphones on.” Lucifer muttered from where he was laying on the couch. Sam sighed, looking from the stairs to the dining room, back to Luc.

“Would you mind letting him know-?”

“Yes, I would actually, quite a lot…” Lucifer grumbled. Crowley side eyed him from the chair he’d commandeered since they’d been staying there.

“Well, you’re just in a bloody mood today, aren’t you?” Lucifer shrugged in response. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Crowley?” Crowley unrelaxed himself, setting down the paper he was reading.

“I was gonna fetch Juliet for a walk anyway…” Sam nodded.

“Thanks. I’ll be back soon.” Sam hurried out as Crowley disappeared. Derek offered a polite smile as he walked up past Sam’s car. Sam returned it. “Hey, see y’in a bit.” Derek just nodded, pausing in stride.

“Heading out?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta see a guy about a thing.” Derek spared a laugh.

“I’ll assume I don’t wanna know?”

“Aah,” Sam chuckled a bit in return. “Something like that I guess. Stiles should be on his way down. Dean and Cas are down in the basement if you need anything.”

“Thanks…” Derek scratched his nails against his jeans nervously as they both walked away. He paused in front of the door, almost reaching for the knob, before realizing he should definitely knock. He knocked once….
Nothing.
He was confused, but he knocked again, four knocks this time. He heard Stiles finally running down. He smiled, waiting patiently. Stiles opened the door wide, welcoming him in.

“Hey…” Stiles greeted once he was inside. Derek grimaced out a fake, nervous smile glancing at Lucifer who was glaring at him with a vengeance. He looked back to Stiles not really wanting to maintain eye contact.

“Uncle babysitting?” Stiles looked over as there was a noise that sounded vaguely like a huge bird taking flight. Derek glanced over where he was looking, where Lucifer had been but the couch was empty now. Stiles just shrugged.

“Guess not?” Stiles gestured at the stairs. “Wanna come up?” Derek nodded, following Stiles up. They left the door ajar as Stiles sat in his desk chair, and Derek took a seat on Stiles’ bed. “I was actually just seeing what I could find on the attack.”

“What sources d’you have??” Stiles tilted the screen his way. He had at least 10 different tabs open, not all on the attack. A few looked like local news pages, but another few had icons he didn’t recognize.

“They never took my dad off the system. They usually don’t bother. Not that people drop dead often enough to observe much of a, uh… standard… But my dad was sheriff, so I have access to everything they have right now.” Stiles sighed. “Which isn’t much. They’ve looked into this guy that got messed up, but they haven’t had time for much else. They’ll probably consult an animal expert by then end of the night though. Whether or not they’re keeping up on paperwork is another issue. Depends on who's on it.”

“What do they have on the victim??” Derek asked confused, wondering if it was actually worth mentioning or if Stiles had just rambled it out.

“Bus driver, from around, no family. Arrest record, but nothing that amounted to anything. Could mean he’s clean, but more likely means he’s got friends looking out for him. Guy’s sketchy, sketchy as fuck if they’re bothering to make a note of it, but nothing’s pointing back to who would want him dead. Or mauled. Which is surprising given what he’s been investigated on.” Stiles rambled quickly and quietly in an easy unwavering drawl, that showed how focused he must’ve been. Derek leaned in a bit to read the report on the screen.

“Why; What’s he been investigated for?” Stiles cycled few a couple tabs.

“Some… concerning things. ‘Mayhem’, shooting a gun in city limits, ‘suspicious activity’, stuff like that.” Derek furrowed his brow.

“Why are those concerning?”

“Because, a rural town like Beacon? I can tell you, they don’t write crap like that down… Unless it was all they could be sure of. If he was arrested or even investigated for this stuff, there’s a good chance they wanted him for something scary and he had a real good lawyer.” Derek nodded, catching what Stiles meant.

“And you’re wondering why a bus driver has a lawyer covering for him so hard?” Stiles nodded confidently. “What if it’s just a friend of his?” Stiles shook his head.

“BHPD isn’t afraid of somebody’s childhood bro. This guy has to have somebody with money and sharks keeping him out of the hot seat.”

“Why though? That’d take some steady pay, why is it worth it for someone to keep this guy out of jail?” Stiles scooted over in his chair, messing with his nightshade when he made it.

“Well… the way I see it, he either has dirt on someone… he’s important to somebody… or, more likely, he’s some for-hire-thug… And given he’s a born and raised local boy, all boils down to ‘who in the area has big money’.” Derek looked up at Stiles, who looked back, brain still obviously turning over in his head.

“You think he’s on our payroll?” Stiles looked away, shaking his head.

“If not, it’s kind of weird. Hale heiress, then some other mogul’s goon? I mean if it’s a coincidence it’s a crazy one.” Derek shook his head in return.

“If Laura was up to something like that, I’d know.” Stiles looked at Derek, making sure he was certain about that, then nodded.

“Well then, what we need to figure out is who did he work for. Then we can figure out what he did, and then we just narrow down to who’d want him and your sister dead because of it.” Stiles sighed. “I’m making sense here, right?” Derek furrowed his brows.

“Yeah, about as much sense as anything could be making right now… Why??” Stiles shrugged looking at the police database open on his browser.

“I can get a little… crazy when it comes to stuff like this. Just wanted to make sure I wasn’t jumping the gun on anything.”

“...‘Stuff like this’?” Stiles tried to hide his sigh.

“Yeah… My… dad.” Derek waited to see if Stiles wanted to continue or not. “After he died, I didn’t really have any answers, and I… just kind of went crazy in my head for a few day trying to figure it out… Scott… was really worried, seeing me like that… It’s fine.” Derek took a moment before nodding.

“You’re right, it is.” Stiles looked over to him questioningly. “It’s completely normal to want answers, Stiles. It’s natural to go a little insane not having them…. But it won’t bring him back.” Stiles scoffed an almost tearful snicker.

“Yeah, I know I just-” Stiles jumped up, in a panic as his computer immediately shut down, the only light now what was streaming through the window as evening approached and dark following after it. Thank goodness for Summer they both figured. Derek looked from Stiles to the computer.

“Please tell me we didn’t just lose all of that…” Stiles threw his head exasperatedly.

“Well, no! That’s just going to be a pain in the ass to go and sign back into all of those, and my computer is gonna update, and-” Stiles sighed. “It’s fine… Better go check on the idiots.”

“What?”

“Dean and Cas are the only ones home, and they’re down in the basement, so I’m guessing this is their fault.”

Chapter Text

“What the-?” Dean muttered, standing up from his chair and promptly half-tripping over it in the dark of the pitch black bunker. “Ow- fucking-!” He sighed as Cas lit the room with- well, magic he assumed. Sure as hell wasn’t a flashlight.

“Wow. You can’t see in the dark at all, can you?” He said glibly, as Dean untangled his foot from the chair. Dean honestly could hardly tell whether it was grumpy sass, good natured sass, or serious.

“Cas… Our power just cut out on a beautiful summer afternoon…. Maybe not the time.” Cas got up and followed him out to the main room of the basement. Dean headed for the power box, while Cas went towards the stairs, only stopping when he Dean didn’t follow.

“Shouldn’t we check on the others before worrying about the power?” No sass, nor annoyance. Apparently Cas was indeed not mad about anything. Good.

“Electric emergency lock.. Not getting through that door without heavy duty tools or a steady current going through the house.” Dean explained as he flipped the breakers off then on again. Nothing happened. Except a knock on the door upstairs. A quick soft two knocks. Nothing else. Dean wasn’t sure why it put him on edge but it made the dark and the silence… eerie in a way that made him feel like he was on a job. Cas went up the stairs. He wondered if Cas was feeling the same as him, or at the very least knew how he was feeling.

“Stiles?” He asked loud enough to hear through the door. The creepy silence lingered. “Lucifer? Crowley?? Who’s there?” Cas looked down at him a long moment as no one answered, and he in turn looked a bit more closely at the Breaker. He inspected every little thing he could think to, as Cas came back down. He couldn’t find anything wrong with it to explain the outage. It must have been a town issue. Cas sighed as Dean took out his phone. “ Please tell me you looked into this property before we bought it?”

“Of course we did. Did a check of the entire property too. I’m gonna call-” There was a louder pounding at the door that made them both jump, 3 knocks, Dean assumed Derek by the force.

“Guys, what the hell did you do down there?! The powers out!!” Stiles asked. Dean nodded to Cas who walked back up the stairs.

“It wasn’t our doing.” Cas answered through the door. “Dean tried the breakers, nothing worked. If it doesn’t kick back on, we’ll hook up the generator down here.” Dean stopped paying attention as he heard the phone ringing through. Thank goodness they made sure there was service down here.

“Hey. Dean. What’s up?” Chris’ voice came through calm and melodically as always.

“Hey, man.” He said welcomingly in return. “Your power go out too? Any idea what happened??” Chris paused quietly though.

“No, everything’s fine here, and we haven’t noticed any other houses blacked out. But it could be a different grid, since you’re a good bit farther out of town… Do you want me and Vick to drive out and see if we can help figure it out? She’s pretty good with that kind of stuff.” Dean shook his head.

“Nah, you don’t have to. I’m just gonna get one of the generators up and running and check around, call the power company… You know.” Chris laughed, forced, like he was a bit busy.

“Do I ever. Good luck, Dean. Let me know if you need anything.” Dean nodded.

“You too, buddy. See ya.” He sighed as he hung up. “It’s just us apparently.” He said to Cas, walking back over to the breaker box. “Babe, You wanna grab the generator for me while I get this ready?” Cas nodded, coming down and walking over to the emergency generator. As he set it down next the Dean at the breaker box, and Dean got to the last breaker he had to turn off, the basement one, of course, the lights above them came back on. At the same time a scream and then the dulled sound of glass breaking from up beyond the door. Before Dean could even react, Cas was at the door, and had it unlocked and open before Dean was all the way up the steps, not bothering with turning off the basement lights, or even flipping on the rest of the breakers. When Dean got through the door, Derek was holding Stiles as he nearly shook, face buried in Derek’s shoulder, not seeming to do a lot of good at comforting him, seeming only slightly less shocked. Dean looked at the dining room as Cas tried to calm Stiles. There was glass all over the table. It looked like not only had the bulbs burst, the thin frosted glass fixtures surrounding them were shattered. On top of that a chair was pulled out from the table now, sitting surreally in front of the basement door.

“No! That fucking thing touched me!! What the fuck was that, what just happened?!” Stiles seemed close hyperventilating now. He pointed at the chair like it was some kind of horrible beast. Dean figured it’d be best to move it back, try to make things normal. But it didn’t budge. When he grabbed it, it felt ice cold, and stuck in place like a statue. He glanced to Stiles. Of course the poor kid had noticed. Shit. He tried to at least be discreet as he blowed out through his mouth. A puff of steam quickly dissipated, but didn’t repeat with a second breathe, and the chair lifted as he tugged at it. He sighed, and put the chair back where it belonged ignoring the clattering of the glass on the floor as he did. Whatever had been here seemed to be gone now. Dean turned and closed the basement, locking it up just to be safe.

“Derek.” He said as sensitively as he could in a firm voice. “Cas and I are going to check the perimeter and do a quick sweep of the house. You two should… get some fresh air, but stay in sight, understood?” Derek looked confused for a moment before seeming to figure out what he meant.

“Stiles, hey.” Derek got his attention before taking him by the hand. “Come on.” Was all he said leading him out around the other side of the table. Dean looked to Cas, just getting the same concerned look back.

Chapter Text

John had gone through his supply of whiskey the night before, which had two distinct results. He had woken up with a hammering hangover, that he usually didn't have to deal with considering his tolerance level and that he couldn't now remedy with more alcohol. And he had a rare moment of total sobriety to recall the worse than usual night. Which there was no lack of reminders of. The badly skewed picture frame, glass shattered in place, family picture warped from wetness now dried, the glass of his whiskey bottle scattered on the table, and of his tumbler on floor, the tear stains now dry and uncomfortable on his cheeks, and of course, Stiles' absence at the counter for breakfast: bacon, sausage links, eggs and toast, which he'd half admit to having made out of guilt. His words, though he hardly remembered saying them, ran through his head back to back, phrase by phrase. After cleaning up a majority of the shattered glass from the table and the floor, letting the meat burn a little to let out more of the smell and make it crispy like Stiles liked, he finally flicked the flames of the stove off. He dished out a plate and took it up, tapping his knuckles on the door before opening it. He found his son sniffling softly on his bed. He slowly took a seat next to him, setting the plate down on the bedside table. "Hey, kiddo..." Stiles sniffled and shifted, though not actually changing his position. "Stiles, I'm so sorry... What I said... was horrible..."

"It's not your fault... You were right-" Stiles sniffled. "I-"

" No. Stiles, no. None of that was true. Stiles, I love you more than anything. Your mother loved you more than anything. Nothing- Nothing could ever change that. And you love us. No amount of getting into trouble or skipping school would ever -" John paused, feeling tears coming on, and he pulled the boy into his arms. "I know... I haven't been good since... since she-... That's not your fault. None of that is in anyway your fault... You don't deserve the way I've- acted.... All that you deserve is a much better father than I- than I've been being." Stiles hugged his dad back.

"That's not true!" Stiles answered, as only a child would. John couldn't help but breathe a laugh.

"It is, Stiles... If Claudia could see the way I've been lately... If she ever heard me say those kinds of things, blame you like that... I doubt she would ever forgive me. And trust me Stiles, the fact that you can... That says more about you than- than anything else, no matter what anyone says... Especially me. You understand that?" Stiles nodded. John smiled, leaning down to kiss Stiles on the head. "Good... Always do your damnedest to remember that." Stiles smiled melancholily up at his father.

"I don't have to as long as I have you to remind me, right dad?" John held a smile best he could. He wouldn't put that on Stiles. He couldn't. Not so young.

"Yeah, son. As long as you've got me." John said as reassuringly as he could. "Isn't Scott gonna be wondering where you are soon? I thought you said Melissa was supposed to take you two on a drive?" Stiles nearly bounced off his bed in joy.

"Wait, so I can go?!"

"Sure." John nodded, laughing. "Grab a bottle of water out of the fridge before you go." He said, taking a twenty out of his wallet. "And this is for lunch , give it to Melissa as soon as you get to over there, okay ? I don't want you forgetting about it." Stiles nodded, grabbing it once he'd haphazardly thrown on the first pair of pants and shoes he could find. " Behave and be careful !!" He was answered with the hurried slam of the door. He sighed. "I guess I'll just... put this in the fridge for later." Once he was sure, Stiles was off and wouldn't come back for something he decided he needed to take, John set to work cleaning up the rest of the glass, and replacing the panes of all the picture frames that had shattered in the chaos that ensued the night before. Once he'd finished with that, he hopped in the shower. Getting out and going to shave, the steamed mirror greeted him in his wife's handwriting, " Thank you" .

Chapter Text

Scott didn’t know what he’d seen. It certainly didn’t feel like his mind playing tricks on him. But he supposed he wouldn’t be surprised with how stressed he was today. Having Tara there talking about Laura’s case, and today’s possible developments didn’t help. Still he kept in mind what her and Deaton had said about it. Once she and Trigger left he tried to just bottle it all up as much as he could and work until Deaton let him off, which he seemed keen to allow to happen early. But if Scott was being honest he was still a bit worried about what kind of greeting he’d get at the Winchesters’. But they had to figure out if he was a danger. He almost jumped when he heard Sam’s voice in the office when he came back in from outside.

“Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver. And I mean that only slightly less than literally. The guys have been in such a mood the last couple days.” Deaton laughed.

“Not at all, Sam, I’m happy to help. Though it was quite the pain to find on such short notice. This stuff isn’t easy to come by.”

“Yeah, trust me, I know. I didn’t even realize we were running out until we were about to leave. I’m glad I called you. It doesn’t seem like we’re going to be making a trip home anytime soon. Do you know anything about what happened today??”

“Not as much as I’d like. Police came by, and I said as much as I could. It does seem concerning though. Laura Hale and now this.”

“You know the Hales?”

“You know I like to keep an air of mystery, Sam.”

“Makes sense.”

“Anything you’re… keen to share?”

“What I can. Someone was bit the night the girl- the night Laura- was found, and we assume murdered.”

“Hmm… Were they able to be accounted for?” Deaton asked, and Scott swallowed, making sure he wasn’t in sight of the door window.

“We’re not sure yet. We’re pretty sure Derek Hale was though. He ended up having a dream last night and woke up outside Dean’s place instead.”
“Really?”

“Yeah. The other one had a similar dream, but it took place at the school, so we’re not sure if he was involved or not. Do you know of any, like, curses in the area that might cause that?”

“Not that I know of, and I think that I would if there was… But that does seem too convenient to be a coincidence. I have a few theories, but I’d need more details to be sure about them.”

“It’s fine. We’ll let you know when we figure anything out, if you could do the same we’d appreciate it.”

“No problem.” There was a long pause but Scott didn’t hear Sam leaving, and he was too nervous to go in before he was sure there was a change in subject. “So, your brother moved to town then? Thank goodness, I was worried you were here on work…” Scott gave a sigh of relief as he headed for the door.

“No, not at all. Dean and Cas adopted a kid from here a month ago or maybe two now. Bought a place just outside town because they didn’t want to move him away from home. I was just coming down to drop off a few last things and maybe stay a bit to help them get settled.” Deaton seemed ready to stop talking when he saw Scott coming in but Sam kept talking, only taking notice of him when he was done. “Scott, hey. You two know each other??” Deaton seemed a bit bewildered but nodded.

“I’m tempted to ask the same thing. But yes, Scott’s my assistant.”

“I didn’t realize I had that high of a position.” Scott laughed trying to hide his nervousness. Deaton chuckled a bit, confusion seeming to have passed.

“Well, you don’t have much competition… May I ask how you two know each other?” Sam nodded, making eye contact with Scott, why, Scott didn’t know.

“Yeah, of course. Scott’s best friend is Dean’s adopted son. He’s been around so much he’s basically a second nephew.” Scott smiled, nerves melting a bit from the compliment.

“Ah.” Deaton said, seeming either concerned or suspicious. “Haven’t been getting him in any trouble have you?” Sam gave a chuckle.

“They get into plenty of trouble on their own, I think. Scott’s actually…” Sam looked to him again. “The person I was just telling you about…” Deaton gave a look of surprise.

“The one who was bitten??” Sam nodded, and Deaton looked to him, concerned. “I assume it took… Are you alright? Have you been adjusting well??” Scott scratched his head, relieved Deaton wasn’t firing him or chasing him with a torch.

“Um… Yeah. Scared and confused, but Derek’s been helping, and Sam and everyone too…” Deaton smiled.

“Well I’m glad. I’m sure Derek can help you with it more than I ever could, and Sam and Dean are also more experienced, but even still, if you ever need help with anything, I know more than you might think.” Scott nodded gratefully.

“Right, thanks…”

“He really does. I was actually just picking up a special tea I asked Deaton to find for Luce and Crowley.” Sam explained, and Scott nodded. Thank god, he’d thought it was drugs or poison, or something.

“Scott, why don’t you punch out a bit early today? I’m sure Sam would be happy to drop you at home.”

“Why?? Something happen?” Sam asked.

“Well, when the officer came by earlier, Scott thought he saw Sheriff Stilinski…”

“Stiles dad??”

“Yes. I’m sure it was just a mistake, but he was quite upset by it. I honestly feel bad for not offering before now.”

“I mean, sure.” Sam shrugged. “He’s supposed to come over so we can try to figure out what happened last night anyway, so it’s no trouble.” Scott shook his head. Not that he particularly wanted to stay, but he didn’t want to leave Deaton all alone either.

“Are you sure? I really can stay if you need me. I’m alright now…” He offered, but Deaton shook his head.

“There’s nothing to do that I can’t take care of, and anything I would prefer not to do on my own can wait. You go.” Scott smiled.

“Thanks… Do you want me to at least make a note of when I left?”

“No, it’s fine, Scott. You try to relax as much as you can, ‘right?”

“I’ll do my best, sir.” Scott said, smiling a bit wider.

Chapter Text

It was just becoming night as Sam’s car pulled back up to the house. Stiles and Derek were still standing out there, Derek with his arm around Stiles, rubbing his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. They watched as Sam and Scott got out. Sam raised his eyebrows in what seemed to be concern.

“Something happen?” He asked, trying not to push too hard. Stiles felt bad for giving Sam such shit all the time. Yeah the guy could be a tad nosey, but it was obviously because he cared, and at least he was considerate. Still he shook his head, when Derek looked to him, seeing if he wanted him to answer instead.

“It-It’s nothing.Well, it’s a lot, but we’ll tell you guys inside…” Sam nodded, unconvincingly.

“Okay. Well, good news at least. Scott probably- might have not attacked the guy from last night.”

“How do you know?” Derek asked, perking up immediately.

“We’ll tell inside.” Sam replied.  Derek relaxed and gave a nod.

“Right.” He looked to Stiles. “Are you ready to go back inside, or-?” Stiles nodded insistently.

“Yeah, totally. Let’s get to it.” He said, when the truth was no, he wasn’t at all ready, but they really needed to go get into this. Scott nudged him worriedly as they walked back to the house, and he tried to give a reassuring smile. What they were greeted with wasn’t at all comforting: Luce and Dean in an apparent yelling match. Stiles situated himself between and behind Derek and Scott as much as he could. He considered it wasn’t really fair to Scott, as he had his own hang ups about yelling and fighting, but figured since this was basically about him, it justified a pass.

“How about you stop blowing the fuck up over every little thing!? I didn’t even accuse you this time, you ass, I just said I would’ve preferred you’d stayed to keep an eye on things!! Maybe if you freaking had, this wouldn’t’ve happened, or at least we’d know what the hell was going on!!!” Dean shouted.

“Oh my fucking hell, and you CAN’T SEE how that could be construed as BLAMING, you absolute-!!!” Sam, thankfully, stepped in though not seeming to enjoy having to at all.

“GUYS, guys, hey!! Can everybody just calm down a second?! What the hell’s going on??” Luce didn’t seem to let up much this time, just turning to Sam now, voice a tad louder, but now more pleading than maliceful.

“I’ll calm down once HE stops acting like everything that goes wrong around here is MY FAULT.” Sam nodded, placiatingly.

“I understand, Luce, but yelling at each other isn’t going to fix anything, okay? We’ll talk about it later, and sort it out civilly.” Lucifer didn’t seem to calm down much, but he at least disengaged from the argument. He gave a pensive angry look as if about to storm off, but instead spoke.

“I need some alone time, I’ll be back once I calm down…” He said, still sounding angry but trying to be calm and peaceful with his words. Then he disappeared with a woosh . Jesus , that was definitely the last thing he needed. He felt crazy enough right now.

“Dean, Why?” Sam sighed.

“He’s an ass, that’s why.”

“ You’re the only one I see being an ass, Dean. You know he’s been in a bad mood, and you know he hates it when you do that.”

“I didn’t say anything that wasn’t well deserved!”

“If your best explanation is ‘he’s an ass’, I disagree. Whatever happened, you could have worded that better. You remind him of Michael, Dean, so it’s a hell of a lot more upsetting when you’re blaming him more than he thinks is fair.”

“Bullshi-”

“I know you think he hates you and would never ever give a shit what you think, but whether you want to believe it or not, it hurts his feelings . He honestly respects you more than Mike and he expects a hell of a lot better from you than that. So can you please just try to be respectful when I’m not here to babysit you both?” Sam said in a tone that made clear he was done talking about it. “Now, what happened??” Dean glanced over to Stiles and he stepped forward, Scott and Derek doing the same, but going their own ways, Derek staying near, and Scott plopping on the couch.

“We were hanging out up in my room when the power went off. We were waiting on Dean and Cas to hook up the generator and…” Derek came a bit closer to take Stiles’ hand, rubbing it with his thumb. Stiles’ took a breath before continuing. “A chair pulled out from the table on it’s own, slid over and bumped my arm…. An-And then the lights in the dining room all broke. And I just had a little panic attack, nothing big. But Derek and I were talking and we’ve noticed a few things like that happen recently, and smaller stuff too…”  

“Wait, what??” Sam of course was completely taken by surprise. Dean was just shocked it was more than just the single incident.

“Shit like this has been happening? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I don’t know dude,” Stiles shrugged nervously. “We didn’t notice them all when they first happened. Just like one thing, and we figured that sounded, crazy… We only just thought of the other stuff and realized it was weird.” Cas sighed.

“It’s alright. Dean is just worried. What exactly has happened??” He said, coming from the far side of Dean to lean against the couch. Stiles fidgeted a bit, trying to gather all the thoughts. Derek looked to him again, and he nodded. He didn’t mind Derek taking the wheel here, not at all.

“Well the main thing was yesterday, when we were driving home.” He started. “I was driving, Stiles and I were talking and laughing. Out of nowhere the steering wheel jerked left so hard I couldn’t stop it. We went flying into the other lane-”

“Fucking damn it…” Dean interrupted.

“Wait though.” Derek said in return. “We were barely our of our lane when a car barreled around the corner just ahead of us in our lane going the wrong direction, 70-80 miles an hour. Thing took the right taillight off and just kept going like it was nothing. I had to brake before we went face first into the trees, but still, if we hadn’t turned when we did, I think we’d be in pieces right now…” Stiles nodded, finally finding his words.

“And when Derek stayed over, the light turned off in the middle of the night. We didn’t do it, and I asked all of you guys, and no one knew anything about it. And then there was when we were in the basement, and the keyless lock locked on the other side, and you thought it was Luc. And me and Derek have both felt eyes on us, and Scott keeps getting cold… And…” His voice caught in his lungs. He didn’t want to bring it up. He didn’t want to admit it.

“What is it, Stiles?” Dean and Sam both asked, a beat off sync, and Dean sounding more nervous than Sam. He sighed.

“During my game, before I got hurt- Cas knows- I… I stopped because a voice told me to. I brushed it off at the time and figured it was just self preservation, and my head playing tricks on me… but it didn’t sound.... Like that…” Sam nodded seeming to catch on.

“What did it sound like??”

“It…. It sounded like my dad.” Stiles said in a resigned, matter of fact mutter, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Shit…” Dean sighed immediately. Stiles couldn’t have felt more like a burden than at this moment, he didn’t think… This was all his fault. “Well, if it’s focusing around You-”

“It’s not.” Scott cut in. “I saw him earlier while I was at work. Tara said people’d been seeing him at the station too.”

“Stiles. Wasn’t your father was cremated??”  Sam furrowed his brow.

“He was. And they burned his badge with him too, out of respect.”

“Do you have anything that was specifically his? Anything at all?” Cas asked.

“Nah, he wasn’t attached to much. All I had that was his was a partial bottle of JD. And that’s long gone. We had it the night Scott got bit.” Derek perked up a bit as he chimed in.

“No, it isn’t. I still have it, it’s at my place.”

“Oh, yeah.” Stiles said, trying to let it cheer him up. “I forgot about you stealing that again…”

“I… wouldn’t have if I had known. Sorry...” Derek said in a tone that, for him, was bashful. Stiles squeezed his hand, giving a smile.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. Besides, couldn’t really be mad at my knight in shining… eyes?”.

“Gross. Bring the bottle over tomorrow night, alright? We’ll take care of it.” Dean said before Derek got a chance to respond, shaking his head in dismissal. Stiles bit his lip.

“And that’ll make my dad pass on?” Dean gave a look indicating it was more complicated than that, but nodded.

“If it’s what’s keeping him here, yeah, that basically it.” Stiles mulled that over a moment before nodding.

“Good....” It was definitely time for a topic change. “Uh- Sam, you said… something about good news?” Sam nodded, taking the hint.

“Uh, yeah. It seems like there’s a good possibility Scott might not’ve mauled the busdriver.” Derek gave them both a confused look.

“How good?”

“Only slightly less convincing than the chances you didn’t.” Sam said with a shrug. “We stopped at the hospital on the way back. Scott snuck into visit the guy.”

“He woke up and started shaking after a minute like he recognized me, then he grabbed me and pulled me towards him and started screaming…” Scott sulked, still seeming guilty.

“And… that means you didn’t turn and try to kill him?” Derek still seemed unconvinced. Scott shrugged.

“Sam’s words, not mine.” Dean sighed.

“How about you tell us about your dreams and we’ll go from there?” He said. Derek seemed to tense up at that, and Stiles squeezed his hand in both comfort, and second hand embarrassment.

“Hey... “ He whispered. “Don’t worry. Having already heard about both, I can guarantee, Scott’s is much more inappropriate and uncomfortable.” Derek couldn’t help but scoff.

“Thanks, but you’re also terrible…” Stiles contained his smile instead giving a wink and a cheeky tongue click. Sam nodded at them.

“Derek, probably best if go over yours first, ya know?”

“Remember, tell us everything.” Dean noted. “Something you think is no big deal a lot of the time ends up being super important.”

“Right…” Derek nodded, swallowing the nervous lump accumulating in his throat. Stiles did his best to channel all the confidence he could to him. He could tell well enough Derek wasn’t entirely comfortable in such… serious situations? “Well… The first thing I remember dreaming was… I was… with my sister, and we were in my old apartment in New York, but everything was different- it felt wrong. She asked about my classes, my thesis, and then graduation and I-I remembered I hadn’t participated because th- she couldn’t make it because she came back here, and I had been mad at her for it, and that was when I realized it was a dream. Nothing really changed, I just tried to ignore it, relax… But now that I knew, she asked about Stiles. Not by name, just like ‘what’s this guy you’re dating like?’ and we kept talking like normal, but then I blacked out. Somehow I knew what we’d been arguing about but at the same time I didn’t. She was saying things that- they weren’t entirely uncharacteristic of her, they just didn’t sound right… And she brought something up that we never would’ve talked about, to the point she didn’t even know much about it, something that happened when we were younger that… really messed me up… And the voice wasn’t hers, and it- it just made my head start spinning and spiraling as we argued, almost to hysteria. And then it felt like I’d blacked out again and hours had passed, and I heard Stiles’ voice telling me ‘don’t’. I looked and saw him standing in front of me. We were just in some dreamscape, no surroundings no noise. He said to ‘come here’, and I said it was a dream, that he wasn’t real, and he said that was true, he was all in my head. I don’t know why that made me trust him, but… it did, and so when he told me to come to him again, I listened. But then every step I took he was still out of reach. Still I kept going, and eventually I was able to reach out and grab his hand and hugged him, and I… felt weightless again. We held each other for a while and it just felt like the most blissful, peaceful sleep. But then I started to get restless. I felt the wolf pulling in my chest, like it was trying to turn, and all I could think to do to keep it in the moment was…” Derek stopped for a moment and sighed. He must’ve been embarrassed. Stiles’ couldn’t blame him. He squeezed his hand, hoping it might help. “Was to think… of any detail of him that my memory to conjure vividly enough to anchor me. His smell, his laugh, that flannel he’s worn 4 times already… Anything . I just didn’t want to wake up, I wanted to stay there with him in this dream. And-” He gave a much harsher sigh this time, but continued almost immediately. “And my brain went back to… when we’d said goodbye last night, and replayed… him saying ‘I love you’. And the turning stopped. I relaxed, and managed to get back to the restful sleep…” Derek cleared his throat, glancing to Stiles now. Stiles tried his best to look nonchalant, he was sure though he probably still looked like a total sappy loser. “And then your uncle woke me up and I was on your roof and I kind of thought he was going to murder me for a good three seconds.”

“Don’t worry, Luc is fairly harmless.” Sam said, shaking his head and rolling his eyes.

“Wait, Luc found you?” Stiles confusedly asked. “I thought Sam had. So that’s why he threw a bitch fit when you got here??” Derek shrugged.

“Yeah, wouldn’t be surprised, he didn’t seem pleased with the whole situation.” Scott scoffed a breath of laughter.

“I like Lucifer.”

“Rest assured, he doesn’t care.” Crowley said, appearing by the couch, Juliet tugging at her short leash in their direction. Derek jumped a foot; as Scott just shrugged, apparently as used to it as Stiles was.

“That’s fine. He’s nice.”

“The actual devil, Scott…” Dean reminded.

“I know. That doesn’t change that he’s been really cool.”

“Lovely, I’m sure the two of you will get along great then. What are we all up to?” Crowley muttered, letting Juliet go. She ran over, stopping when she got to Stiles and Derek, snuffling them and jumping about. Derek petted her as he finally recovered from Crowley essentially sneaking up on them.

“Luc and Dean shockingly got in a fight, my dad is apparently haunting us, Derek’s a huge sap, and we’re about to hear about Scott’s wet dream. Glad you could join us.”

“Certainly sounds like my sort of party.” Crowley went over to the door and pushed it closed tight, explaining how he’d gotten in. Stiles looked to Sam.

“Didn’t you close that??” Sam furrowed his brows realizing the same.

“Looks like daddy’s got some skills.” Dean said, giving a casually impressed look. “Scott.” Scott looked over to Dean. “You’re up, kid.” Scott just nodded.

“Mine started as me and Allison were coming out of the school, laughing. I led her to on of the buses in the parking lot. She asked where we were going and I said somewhere we could be alone, and she said ‘We are alone’ and I said ‘somewhere we can be more alone’, and we went and sat in the back. We started making out, and I started to turn, so I stopped and got up. I told her to get away and she asked what was wrong, and then I lost it… I wasn’t seeing things through my eyes anymore, everything was in third perspective. Allison backed away and then turned to run, and I saw my hand grab her ankle and trip her. I pulled her back through the bus, back to the back. When I stopped she turned over and kicked me and I went flying into the back wall. She ran to the front and tried to force open the door, but it wouldn’t. From the front of the bus I saw me tear one of the seats in the back off it’s legs and whip it up the bus. She tried harder to get the door open and almost got it, but then my hand came over her mouth and pulled her back. Then I woke up this morning, back in bed, sweating and nearly hyperventilating. That’s it.”

“Those-” Sam sighed. “Are a lot less similar than I thought they’d be.” Cas shook his head.

“Doesn’t preclude them from being related though. They could have some meaning.”

“Yeah, but what?” Scott asked, obviously perturbed and as impatient as always.

“Well, that’s easy.” A voice said from the dining room, making them all either jump or whip around to look, or both. A average sized blonde girl stood in the doorway. She bore a strong resemblance to Cas but reminded Stiles more of Dean in the way she dressed and carried herself. “It was your mind creating a representation of how you were feeling in the real world in your dreams. Probably either out of stress or to determine what you should do.” Scott became sullen, as if this chick had any authority to go on, other than deductive reasoning.

“So, I did attack the guy…” She shrugged.

“Well, not necessarily. Personally it sounds like it wasn’t an actual recreation of what was happening, but more what you were experiencing in your head. If you were sleepwalking you probably wouldn’t have been seeing enough to what was happening whether you did it or not. Think about it, ‘Allison’ was being lead and didn’t know where you were going, ‘she’ didn’t get scared until you were sure ‘you’ lost control, ‘she’ wanted to run away but you kept pulling her back into the situation. Only when ‘she’ fought back to get away did ‘you’ not only get violent but ‘you’ got angry , as if ‘you’ were offended.”

“You’ had an alpha do that?” Derek asked her, probingly, but not trying to push at all. She nodded.

“I’ve seen it happen to a lot of newbies. Vamps too. It’s an easy way for alphas to assert control over their turns. Make them hunt when they don’t know how to control or stop themselves.”

“So I didn’t attack the bus driver??” Scott asked, confused, but didn’t interrupt.  She just shrugged again.

“Fuck if I know. You pulling girlie back at the end could’ve been you giving into the call. Or the you in the dream could’ve also maybe represented your fight or flight, and might’ve been you forcing yourself to go back and try to save the guy. Or this could all be total bullshit. Hell if I know, I’m not your therapist.” She answered, throwing a dirty duffle bag on the floor.

“So there’s just no way to know?!”

“Scott, calm down.” Derek sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll go to the school and try to jog our memories. If we were there, it shouldn’t be that hard.” Sam nodded as Dean walked over to give the girl a side hug.

“Sounds like a solid plan. Anyone against having dinner first?”

“Um, yes please? I’m fucking starving...” The girl said, reciprocating Dean’s hug.

“Pizza’s on the way.” Dean informed the room. “Good to see ya, kid.” He said, switching to muttering under his breath lovingly.

“It is. You should’ve called, I would’ve come to pick you up.” Cas added, smile on his face.

“My phone died on my last job. Figured it was a good excuse to stop in while I was around, camp out on my favorite losers’ couch.”

“Bullshit, we’ve got a spare room upstairs. Yours as long as you want it.” Dean offered. Stiles had wondered about the furnished fourth bedroom across from him. He wondered if it was specifically intended for this girl like Sam’s was planned with him in mind or if it was indeed a guest room. Then he worried whether or not he’d be a bother residing across the hall. It made his anxiety nausea-inducing but he at least managed to keep his heart from kicking up and alerting two thirds of the room to it.

“Cooli. So which one’s the twerp, huh?” She switched the subject cool and casual, looking between both he and Scott, and even giving a seconds glance at Derek before probably concluding he was well above adoptable age. Stiles waved in fond greeting but Cas was already stepping over between them.

“This is the bo- young man- we adopted, Stiles. This is his friend Scott, and his romantic interest Derek. Stiles, Scott, Derek- This is… Claire. She w-.. is... my vessel’s daughter. I would like to think we’re rather close though.” Claire shrugged.

“Closer to Dean really.” She said. Damn . Cas’ small bewildered frown nearly broke his heart. She gestured to Dean who seemed just as bewildered and back to herself, quirking a bit of a smirk. “I mean, at least right now.” Cas sighed and rolled his eyes as Claire giggled in turn. Stiles at least smiled, glad Cas’ heart hadn’t been viciously broken.

Chapter Text

“Somebody has to keep watch!” Scott insisted as Stiles approached the fence alongside him.

“Why do I always have to be the one to keep watch? Why can’t Claire keep watch??” Stiles asked, not at all planning to be left out of this.

“Because we met her an hour ago, and she’s literally playing candy crush right now?” Scott answered irritatedly.

“Okay. Why is it starting to feel like you’re Batman and I’m Robin? I don’t want to be Robin all the time!”

“No ones’ Batman or Robin any of the time!!”

“Not even some of the time?!” Derek took his hand, pulling him back towards the car a few steps, ignoring Stiles’ pouting, unfortunately.

“Stiles, you know they’re going to have a patrol coming through here… We can’t wait half a minute for our getaway driver to climb the fence.”

“But you know what I also know? How to navigate a crime scene undetected! Getting away isn’t gonna do much if you two leave identifiable evidence everywhere.” Derek took a deep breath, grabbing Stiles by the shoulders, trying to calm his jittery excited bouncing.

“Babe… Isn’t the number one rule of crime scenes, the less people in them the better?” Stiles just glared dully. Yes, he was technically right, but it was still rude. “We’ll be careful. Just honk if you see someone coming, okay?”

“Fine…” He conceded, pouting. Derek kissed his cheek and they went their separate ways. Derek to follow Scott over the fence, and Stiles pausing on his way back to his jeep to enjoy the view before hoping back in Roscoe. “Stupid furry jerks…” He muttered. Claire gave a half-hearted hum of agreement. Stiles sat a moment, contemplating before pulling out his phone. Claire glanced up at his movement only momentarily.

“Whatcha doin’?” She asked in a light jovial sing song, looking back down at her phone. Stiles was actually pretty sure she was texting, not playing any games. He sighed.

“Don’t laugh?” She nodded, he assumed agreeing. “Ghost app.” She laughed. He rolled his eyes.

“Those apps are such bullshit.” She said, chuckling. Stiles set his phone down on the console once he’d started it up and closed the opening ad.

“Eh. I’ve gotten some good results off this one…” That was a lie. He’d gotten mixed results at most. Enough that he believed the app probably worked, but never enough to hold a conversation, and not the most reliable. It took a minute for the app to actually start working. A blue blip just beneath the radar’s zero point, which Stiles assumed to mean in the back seat. A moment after the blip appeared, the app spoke in the feminine robotic voice.

“ SCHOOL” The screen showed as the voice croaked the word out. Stiles nodded, glancing at Claire in the rear view mirror, as she avoided doing the same.

“Yep, we’re at the school. What’re you up to??” He asked aloud. It didn’t respond at first. After a few minutes, as Claire inhaled as if about to speak, the app worked again.

“ ALONE ” It croaked simply. It made them both jump a little.

“You know, you shouldn’t encourage hauntings…” Claire said after a moment of silence, a new sense of resolve accompanying it now. Stiles’ scoffed.

“I thought the app was bullshit?” He mocked, looking over his shoulder as she looked at her own phone.

“The intent’s still there…” She said instead of admitting she might’ve been wrong. Stiles rolled his eyes good naturedly.

“Yes, of course. Please dad, I know you were viciously killed on duty, the details of which have been covered up and withheld from me, but let’s certainly NOT seek any type of closure or-” Stiles’ snarky reply was cut short by the app.

“ LIGHTS ” The app somehow sounded more insistent, and Stiles looked forward,for some reason, to see headlights of what looked to be a department SUV approaching from around the other side of the school. His first instinct was to lay on the horn, and his second was to start the jeep up. The approaching car sped up as Scott and Derek burst out of the bus, running like the devil was at their heels. Scott gave a more artful jump over the fence, running up a car and flipping over, as Derek gave a simpler, faster run and jump, but stumbled a bit more on the landing. Scott hopped in the front and Derek the back, and Stiles started to reverse as the patrol pulled up to the locked gate, flashing the blue and reds and letting the siren whoop as one of the officers got out to unlock the gate, warning them to pull over. God he was glad their department wasn’t trigger happy. By the time Stiles had the car turned around they had the gate unlocked and ready to proceed.

“Stiles!” Derek warned as he and Claire looked back.

“Don’t worry, I’ve done this a dozen times.” He said, putting the car back into gear and tearing off.

“ MISS ” The app insisted again, and he winced, realizing what that probably meant. “MISS- MISS- CHIEF” The app said, confirming his suspicion.

“What’s that?” Scott asked.

“ CHILD- ANGRY ” The app said. “ BAD- TROUBLE ”  Stiles sighed, trying to think where he was going, where traffic cameras were around town, what streets would have the least traffic right now. “ BEHAVIOR”

“OKAY, I get it! Can we talk about what a disappointment I am later? Kinda trying to not get arrested for murder right now.” He sped up, doing his best to stay out of the patrol car’s headlights.

“Stiles!! It wasn’t me, I didn’t attack the driver!” Scott finally said excitedly.

“Awesome, that means-”

“I can go out with Allison tomorrow!!” He exclaimed relieved. Stiles glared dully out the windshield. He made the next turn harder than he needed, sending Scott, who still hadn’t put his seatbelt on, ricocheting about jarringly.

“I was going to say ‘that means your not going to murder me’...” He corrected snarkily. Scott nodded innocently, realizing his mistake.

“Oh yeah… That too.”

“Just put on your seatbelt, you ass.” They crossed a busy street, onto another back road into town.

“Wait, we’re heading deeper into town?” Derek asked confused, holding on as they made another sharp turn.

“Yep!” Stiles answered, eyes fixed on the road, as they pulled onto an empty main street.

“In this thing… How do you think we’re going to lose them?”

“Trust me, I got this.” Stiles assured calmly, as they turned onto a one way backstreet, hardly more than an alleyway. It was no time before the police SUV was just behind them. Stiles just picked up speed. Up ahead, Derek noticed there was an abandoned car to the side of the alley, taking up just enough space that they definitely couldn’t thread the gap. But Stiles just sped up already going way too fast to turn on a dime. He gripped the frame bar next to him.

“Stiles, what the hell are you doing?!” He asked trying to keep the panic out of his voice and failing miserably.

“Just buckle up and hold on.” As they came to the mouth of the alley, Stiles threw on his hazards, making the van slam on the breaks. But Stiles didn’t stop, and a second later they were flying past the car a few feet off the ground, and then unceremoniously slamming back down, just barely clearing the car. They slowed immediately and considerably but remained speeding, zig-zagging on and off streets before calmly slipping into a bit of the night life traffic. Derek and Claire both took a deep breath of relief.

“How did you do that…” Derek deadpanned, staring at Stiles in a way that could only really be called “fearful admiration”. Stiles looked back at him, completely unbothered.

“What, the jump? There’s a speed bump there. All the department vehicles are too short or wide to make it, so it’s a good way to lose ‘em whenever I’m in trouble.” Scott nodded along.

“The first time we did it we were goofing around. It’s really cool when you’re not getting chased by police.” Derek exhaled deeply.

“That was awesome .” Claire voiced in his place. “Way to fucking go, kid.” She chuckled and reached forward punching Stiles’ shoulder.

“Thanks.” He answered, smiling. “Everyone ready to turn in? Or do you crazy kids wanna hit up some putt putt?”

“Fuck yeah.” Claire answered so half heartedly it might have been sarcastic. Scott didn't say anything, just rolled his eyes.

“It’s almost nine and there’s a curfew. They'd probably be closed.” Derek replied, trying not to smile as he stared at the side of Stiles’ head.

“Sounds like someone’s afraid of getting their ass kicked at mini golf.” Stiles joked, smiling.

“You’re amazing…” Derek swooned, knowing how sappy it sounded and not really caring.

Chapter Text

Dean sighed and sipped his whiskey, trying to let the music he’d put on wash his worries out of his mind. He didn’t know how Sam could sleep right now. When Cas came back down from their bedroom after changing, he found him staring solemnly out the front window at nothing.

“Dean,” He called, coming to sit down with him. “What’s wrong? Did you see something??” He paused a moment before answering.

“That’s wrong…. That you still have to ask that. That we have to deal with this crap still …” He looked to Cas, with an almost fearful look of concern in his eyes. “I thought we were done with this bullshit…” Cas sighed.

“If that was true, we wouldn’t have built the basement…”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t expecting anything like this…” He tried not to look so sad, but he could hardly help it. “I didn’t wanna pull Stiles into all this ridiculous crap that follows us everywhere we fucking go ...I didn’t wanna pull him into hunting and the supernatural at all. ” Cas put his arm around Dean.

“Sweetibee. Whatever’s going on in this town seems to go back for years. It’s not our fault, it’s not following us, and for all we know, Stiles could’ve ended up involved either way. It’s possible he might not be alive right now if not for our assistance…”

“I just-” Dean sighed, shook his head. “But what if next time, it is on us? What if he does get hurt? I just wish that didn’t have to be a legitimate worry that I constantly have to have you know? Stiles is normal, he’s 100% human. And he’s stuck in the middle of all of this because of-”

“ Not because of us, Dean… even if we weren’t here, and he wasn’t with Derek, and he didn’t have Scott…” They both paused a moment trying to ignore the dread in the air carrying a sentiment between ‘how dare you’ and ‘god forbid’. Cas sighed, the aura in the room furthering his point. “He still would have his dead father’s ghost hanging around him, who’ll likely eventually be a vengeful spirit.” Dean sipped his drink.

“At least we won’t have to worry about that… After we burn that bottle tomorrow, that should make him… pass on… whether he wants to or not…” They both jumped in shock as the music turned to prolonged shrieking as the record skipped and scratched,  much less electronic and much more human-like than Dean was at all comfortable with. “HEY! Leave that the fuck alone, man, that’s a good fucking record!!!”

The shrieking didn’t stop until Dean took the vinyl off the player, sounding like the echoed disembodied screams of a woman.

Chapter Text

Allison bit her lip looking through her closet to find something “date-nighty” as Lydia put it. She didn’t entirely know if had anything that fit the bill. Her mom was always getting her such pretty clothes, and Allison did love them, but her mother was a bit stuck in the “my little girl” frame of mind, and so she didn’t really have anything… hot per se. She didn’t ever really consider she’d need anything hot . She took a black t-shirt with grey splotches, with thin fabric that fit her pretty complimentingly. Lydia made a half-hearted considering face, but shook her head.

“Pass.” Allison gave her closet a surprised look as she turned to put the shirt back. She glanced over the selection she’d been through ten times and took a more colorful shirt with a loose fit that she really only wore to certain outings particularly when she wanted to pass when she was a bit younger. Lydia didn’t pause a second before making a decision on it. “ Pass. ” She got up off the bed. “Here, let me look.” She came over and combed through the closet. “Pass…” She muttered pushing each shirt aside. “Pass… Pass… Pass - Ugh, pass on all of it… We’re going to have to go shopping for you too. You have the style of a middle schooler, all you have are blouses and emo tees.”

“Hey,” Allison said in mock offense, as Lydia laid a few shirts on the bed and took a picture. “I rock emo tees…”

“And Stiles thinks t-shirts and flannels 5 sizes too big are cute. While that may be true, does not translate to date nights, sweetie.” Allison looked over Lydia’s shoulder as she texted.

“Buuuut, you’re asking him what I should wear?”

“He knows the tastes of a sexually frustrated teenage boy better than either of us, soooo….” Lydia shrugged, as Stiles replied.

“ the black one’s cute ” The text read. All the shirts were black. Allison giggled as Lydia rolled her eyes.

“ Stiles Stilinski, I will hurt you. They’re all black .”

“ what? no way. At least 3 of them are pink. ”

“ THERE ARE ONLY THREE ”

“ oh shit ” Another text came in a second later before she could yell at him. “ jk I like the sequin one. shiny ” Lydia smiled triumphantly.

“ Thank you, you pain in the ass. ”

“ Cy ” He replied, along with various heart emojis. Lydia clicked the power button on her phone and threw it on the bed, taking the other two back to the closet without a second thought. Allison smiled, picking up the shirt and evaluating it. She didn’t usually wear it, it didn’t lend as much to her figure as she would’ve liked, but she figured at least she could maybe skip the push-up bra for the night. Lydia came over seeming to be thinking about saying something, but her dad came in stealing Allison’s attention. He still wasn’t used to the knocking rule, but he seemed deep in thought so she wouldn’t scold him.

“Dad..!” She said feigning the surprise that had already passed.. “Hello…” He seemed to come back to himself as he started putting on his jacket.

“ Oh … Right... I’m sorry, I completely forgot to knock…” He pointed to the door with his thumb. Lydia didn’t seem to mind, plopping down on the bed, nonchalantly excusing herself from the conversation.

“Hey, Mr. Argent…” She offered though. Allison rolled her eyes at her, and returned her attention to her dad.

“It’s fine, dad… Did you need something?”

“I wanted to tell you you’ll be staying in tonight.”

“What? But I’m supposed to be going out with my friends tonight, we agreed-”

“Hey-hey-hey, it’s outta my hands there’s a curfew. You’re not supposed to be out passed 9:30pm.”

“But-But we’re all driving, it’s-”

“Allison, I don’t want you out when there’s some animal out there attacking people. Have your friends come over, order a pizza or something.” Allison sighed putting the shirt down on the bed. As frustrated as she was, her dad wasn’t going to listen. “Hey… No more arguing. Love you.” He said before turning and walking out.

“Love you….” She muttered begrudgingly, biting her lip. Lydia gave her a look and then gave the same to the door her dad had left through. Allison didn’t wanna know what she was thinking. Lydia hummed for a long moment, as if waiting for her dad to be gone before speaking.

“Well, looks like someone’s daddy’s little girl…” Allison bit her lip before hurrying over to close the door.

“Sometimes… But not tonight.” She quickly got changed, ignoring Lydia appreciatively watching her.

“Ya know, I don’t know how I became friends with a bunch of troublemakers, but honestly amen. ”

“Let’s go…” Allison smiled, pulling on her hat. Lydia seemed confused as she started climbing out the window.

“What’re you doing??” Allison flipped down from the roof, letting her muscle memory take over. Her legs gave out as she landed but she managed to just stumble to composure.

“8 years gymnastics! You comin’??”  She smiled up at Lydia, catching her breath. Lydia’s look of horror and concern had been relieved some once she saw Allison safe and sound. She hitched her thumb over her shoulder.

“I think I’ll just take the stairs…” Allison nodded, and went to meet Lydia at the car.

Chapter Text

Derek stood in the hospital room, numb besides his nerves eating a pit into his stomach. He didn't know what to feel. Didn't know what to say. He didn't know anything . Why he was there, who this man was, how he might know him, why he was targeted along with Laura- He knew absolutely nothing, and he was… terrified…. And confused. He needed to calm down but he didn't know how. His anchor had always been anger and grief, but it never much worked, not beyond the basest control of his powers. It did him no good when trying to set himself at ease. All he could think was to try and think of something that made him happy. All his happy memories tied back to misery. His childhood obviously a minefield all on its own. All his memories with Laura just either reminded him she was dead, or of his dream the other night, all the things she’d said. And even thoughts of Stiles were tainted by that. His mind wandered to the night before, when he stood in front of a bunch of hunters and exposed himself so much. Even with all he held back, it made him feel naked to think about. He thought about Stiles hand in his, the comfort that had given him, and how he wish he had that now. He cursed himself for needing the comfort of a teenager, in such a worse situation than him. It was pathetic. He sighed to himself, trying to get out of that line of thought. Stiles would've told him not to be so hard on himself. Stiles was patiently waiting for him to arrive so he could banish his father's spirit for all eternity. Meanwhile he was having a breakdown over trying to talk to an intensive care patient. It was hard not to be hard on himself.

‘Sometimes loving yourself is hard. But you've gotta do hard stuff for the people you love.’ He heard Stiles’ voice echo in his head. He knew Stiles meant “people you love” to be oneself, but honestly he wasn't in a place where he was willing to do hard things for himself, so instead he saw it as doing it for the actual people who loved him. Laura, Cora, their mom, Peter, Deaton, Stiles . At that moment he took a deep breath, and felt a phantom squeeze to his hand, the same way Stiles had the night before.

“Wake up…” He finally forced out of his mouth hesitantly. “ Wake up .” He repeated demandingly, and the man complied, blinking back to consciousness. “Look at me.” Slightly more gentle and in control. The man turned his head slowly. “ What do you remember? ” He asked demandingly.

“Hale…” The man answered with a small but obvious twinge of remorse in his voice. So this guy did know his family? How didn’t Derek know him then?

“... How do you know my name?” He asked, but there was no power behind his words. His voice was meek and confused.

“I’m sorry…” Was all the man answered, firm with resolve.

“Tell me how you know me.” Derek demanded, but it did no good as the man’s breathing shook and stuttered.

“I’m sorry.” He said, as strongly and meaningfully as he could, as he laid his head back on the pillows, not even seeming to fight to fill his weak lungs, as the machines gave the first warning beeps. As badly as Derek wanted to appeal for his dying declaration, he quickly pressed the emergency call button.

“Meyers, just hold on…” Derek stepped back as two women in scrubs burst in the room.

“What happened?” The one who seemed to be the boss out of the two asked quickly (seeming to be either head nurse or a doctor), as they checked all the basics to try to save the man.

“He woke up, he seemed fine, we only talked for a moment, and then he started having issues breathing.”

“Was he speaking alright?” Derek nodded. The nurse who’d shown him to the room rushed in and the boss woman shouted to him to bring various medicines and devices. Derek’s heart raced in his ears as the machines indicated the situation was now critical.

“ Please, don’t die now…. ” He whispered with barely any sound. The machines gave a shrill prolonged beep, and Derek shut out all the panicking and shouting and the continued offensive hum of the monitors pronouncing the death so clearly to the world. He didn’t bother to hope they could save him. Somehow he knew it was a lost cause. Maybe because he had seen how the man clearly didn’t want to live. He just stood there until he felt someone touch his arm.

“I’m so sorry for your loss…” The woman who’d taken control of the situation consoled him, heartbrokenly. He shook his head, trying to look less upset.

“I’m- I’m alright, really. I don’t even really know him… My sister was just the first victim and…. I didn’t want him to be all on his own.” She smiled mournfully, and nodded at him.

“That’s really kind of you… I’m sure he appreciated that. Do you… have anyone you can spend tonight with after this?” Derek, of course, did. He was supposed to head to Stiles’ after this… but he didn't like sharing that information with a stranger even if she seemed nice. So he shook his head.

“I’m fine, I don't need anyone to-”

“I’m sure, but even when you don't know the person, death can be really stressful. You should make sure to take care of yourself.” Derek decided to not argue with her. She was right, after all. Maybe he’d visit Peter before he left. He nodded.

“Thank you. Really. I appreciate all you’ve done, for him and for me.” She smiled.

“It’s no problem. Have a good night, sweetie.” Once she’d walked him to the door, she closed it behind them, and went to talk to another staff member. He sighed, and headed to the elevator and took it to Peter’s floor. He stepped off gingerly. Did he have some fear he might wake the dead? God, that was depressing. He walked a bit quicker to the nurses station. Jen caught sight of him with a glance and paused her work to smile up at him.

“Derek, hey. I heard you were around. How are you?” He shrugged.

“I’m… doing better…. I guess.” Jen seemed somewhat thankful he was, but still respectful that he wasn’t all better from the loss of his family. Jen had always been a great nurse though.

“That’s… good, Der. I’m sure your uncle’s gonna be overjoyed to hear that. He’s missed you a lot. Unfortunately, I can’t let you see him. He’s already conked out for the night, and the other nurses have been absolutely shit about respecting visitation rules… So I have to set an example, you know?” She seemed peeved about it, so despite his disappointment, Derek just smiled and nodded.

“Oh. That’s fine, then. Will you tell him I said good morning at least? I don’t know when I’ll… be able to stop in again.” She nodded happily. She had always had a bit of a delusion that Peter was still in there, that he knew what was going on. Derek certainly hoped she was wrong, but he’d heard acting as such helped keep an air of positivity and humanity that was good for patients and staff. So he tried to play along as much as he could without it triggering his own trauma. As he dwelt on the idea, he suddenly remembered something he’d found that Peter might ‘like’. “Oh, and here- I’ve been at the house recently and I found this,” He pulled out the cracked marble he’d been rolling around in his pocket all day out and reached over the desk to place it in her opened, waiting palm. “He collected marbles a bit before… what happened. This was the only one I could find that wasn’t shattered. Maybe he’ll….” Derek tried to say it, just say ‘enjoy it’, just play along like he always did, but he sighed, unable. Jen nodded, not forcing him into it.

“I’m sure he will. He seems like he’s had more days where he’ll focus on stuff recently, but I’ve had such a hard time trying to find stuff he might like to look at to keep him company, you know?” Derek gave a smile, glad she had done him the favor of encouraging him. “Have a good night, Derek.”

“Thanks, Jen, you too.”

Chapter Text

Derek didn't know why he felt so anxious getting out of his car at the small shop behind the old cemetery, staring up at the sign that read Mors’ Flores . He didn’t know a lot of people buried there, and even less that he was at all attached to. He pinned the cause to what had happened at the hospital. Or perhaps to the knowledge that Stiles’ parents were buried there. He walked in and realized that wasn't right as the feeling got stronger, the shopkeeper now smiling at him inquisitively. Was he honestly this nervous to meet a florist Stiles happened to be friends with?

“Derek Hale. What can I help you with today, my boy?” The man asked in a deep, even voice.

“You… know me?” Derek asked confused. The man gave a single nod.

“Oh, yes, I know you quite well. I would assume most the town does, don't they? The closest we came to being acquainted recently however was…” The man gave a small demure chuckle and shrug that Derek couldn't really discern the meaning of. “You… followed Stiles off from here the last time he visited, didn't you? I assume the two of you are acquainted?” Derek nodded cautiously, not wanting to give the wrong idea by being coy. How did this guy even notice him? Was he some sort of supernatural being too?

“Um, yeah, we’re… friends, we met up and talked at their next stop. He showed me the really gorgeous nightshade you sold him.”

“And you’d like one?” He sounded surprised, as if he knew what Derek was. For some reason, Derek wasn't particularly surprised or offended that he did, as weirded out as he was.

“Yeeeah, um, two if you still have them available. I’d like to gift one to someone. Is that alright?” The man nodded.

“I have a couple left, I’ll grab them from the back…” The man walked off through the door behind him into the back storeroom before he could respond. Still he called after the man.

“I can help, if you’d like?” The man’s voice sounded far off. Evidently he’d moved them from where they were when Stiles was here.

“No that’ll be fine, Dear, I’ll be up in just a moment...” True to his word after about thirty seconds he was back with two fresh looking, wispy, branchy plants happily tangling themselves up a tall trellis just like the one in Lydie’s pot at the end of Stiles bed. The petals looked to be healthy as could be, a deep velvety Purple color, and one even had a plentiful supply of berries about to ripen to a bright red. He’d likely give that one to Deaton. The one he was keeping he’d probably plant by the house. It had been so prolific before the fire that it was practically right up to the sides of the house depending on the season. Since it seemed like the local population refused to grow anymore. He hoped maybe this little guy would repopulate and spruce up the place again. Of course the estate needed a lot more work than that. While that was always Laura’s dream, not his, he had been a bit tempted since his mini-talk with Dean. Not now, of course, he’d told himself repeatedly, but some day, he really would’ve liked to see it, all fixed up again. Full of a found family, like Stiles’ house always was. Loud and vibrant and lively once more.

“They’re really beautiful…” He told the Florist, trying to not seem too enamored with them.

“Mmm.” He seemed to be agreeing. “They are weeds but they can still be very fickle, especially if you’re planning on keeping them in their pots. How is Stiles’ doing?”

“Really, good actually, seems like he has quite the green thumb too…” The man chuckled, but Derek chose not to question it, assuming he was just amused given the nature of the plant in question. “But he is keeping her at the foot of his bed, and she keeps insisting on tangling herself through his bed frame, and climbing up onto the bed.” That elicited a more intentional seeming laugh.

“They are a rather cuddly species, didn’t you know?” The man said through his tame, rich laughter. Derek gave a genuine hitch of laughter, really glad he seemed to befriend Stiles’ supposed friend. He seemed like a very nice, if a bit strange. “Well, wish Stiles and his parents well for me. Have a nice day, my boy…” Derek was a bit taken aback but had the presence of mind to call out to stop the man from walking away.

“Wait, wait, um, what do I owe you??” He offered, not wanting to outright say ‘hey don’t  you want my money’ or anything so forward. The man turned back from the storeroom door, immediately rolling his eyes.

“You and Stiles are just peas in a pod aren’t you? It’s a bloody weed from my backyard, I won’t accept a dime.” The man turned to walk away again, but turned back apparently having thought better. “Just… Take care of him, hm? You know… Make sure he has fun, and of course, make sure he gets home safe . Understood?” Derek was a tad stunned but, nodded.

“Yes, of course, I- uh- I didn’t get your name when we met?” The man smiled.

“Why I’m Mors , obviously…”

Derek used every ounce of willpower he had to nod, stammer out a “have a good day”, take his plants, and walk swiftly to his car, and not ask to a random Californian florist’s face “You’re Death?”.... Mostly because he was afraid he already knew what the answer would be.

Chapter Text

“Derek!” Alan said as he came through the door to the back of the Vet clinic, pulling Derek’s attention back to where he was. “Hey! I was wondering if you’d stop by eventually.”

“Hey.” He answered softly in return, giving a shy smile. When Deaton raised the ash panel of the counter to open the way, and stepped out into the waiting area, Derek stepped in carefully to give him a tight hug. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit sooner.” He said as he pulled back again. “I’ve just been dealing with a lot of stuff.”

“I’m sure you have, even just from what I’ve heard through the grapevine it sounds like a full schedule. Knowing you, I’m sure you’ve piled more on top of that, Just like your mom.” Derek gave a light-hearted scoff and nodded.

“And Laura.” He agreed. Alan gave him a sympathetic look.

“And Laura… I’m sorry for your loss, Derek…” Derek just stretched his smile a bit more and nodded, trying not to get emotional about it. “Do you, wanna come in back and talk for a bit?” Derek shook his head.

“I-I can’t stay too long, I- um…. I have plans with some friends…” Alan perked up.

“Oh! That’s great. What are you guys doing? Going out or having a night in??”

“Oh, out, out. We’re gonna go bowling, a few of us might do dinner after. I think it’s gonna be a lot of fun… Just hoping I don’t make too much of a fool of myself.” Derek was glad Alan seemed to be proud of him- or happy for him at the very least, the way he was beaming.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re an amazing conversationalist, and you’re incredibly gregarious. So what brought you here?? Here on business, or just checking in on your favorite old coot?” Derek smiled.

“You’re not old…” He argued, and Alan laughed.

“But I’m still your favorite coot?”

“Definitely…” He nodded. “I actually came to bring you a gift, just picked her up today.” Derek moved to pick up the plant he’d set on the floor when he came in.

“Oooh, Derek, you didn’t have to do that… Is that bittersweet? It’s gorgeous…” Alan took the plant, setting it on the counter to examine it. “Look at all those berries!” Derek chuckled.

“I figured you’d love it. It’s not a big deal, I got it free off a friend of Stiles.” Derek didn’t realize he’d said anything out of place until Alan was giving him a prying look.

“Stiles?”

“Um…” Derek fidgeted with the zipped of his jacket trying to think of another explanation than ‘the second I got into town I hooked up with a 16 year old living with the most deadly hunters I’ve ever heard of’. “Yeah, he’s…. One of the friends I’m hanging out with tonight....”

“Is he… nice?” Alan asked seeming to have jumped to the right conclusion. Derek wanted to implode.

“Yeah, he really is....”

“Alright,” Alan said apparently conceding to not grilling him about it just yet. “Let him know if he wants to marry you he’s going to have to ask permission first.”

“Dad, Stop….” Derek whined as loudly as he possibly could. Alan couldn’t contain his laughter.

Chapter Text

Chris watched as Derek pulled into the gas station. Of course he knew what his daughter’s plans were that night. It’s not like her friend Lydia was the most discreet person, and it helped that the sweet dear seemed oblivious to Chris’.... distaste for their friend’s boyfriend. It wasn’t entirely clear to him to what extent Stiles was aware of his familiarity with Derek Hale. He could hardly believe the sprinkler incident was an accident, but if not, Stiles was a good damn liar, which didn’t seem to be the case. However he certainly seemed to know that Chris was a hunter and at the very least had assumed he wouldn’t be fond of Derek, judging by the texts he’d skimmed the night Stiles had spent at their house. It was the least he could do to tell Allison to stay in and have them over instead, but it was also the most he thought he could get away with without his daughter getting upset with him. He had a sinking suspicion she wouldn’t listen to him… but at the same time he almost hoped she wouldn’t, not wanting this absolutely rabid mutt in his home. As much as he didn’t want his daughter around him either, Allison was a free spirit and all telling her to stay away from her new friend and his boyfriend would accomplish is making her question his motives and ensure she wouldn’t tell him when she’d be around them.

The best he could do was…. Minimize threats. And he didn’t see the harm in doing so at the source. He’d already tried to kill the bastard. He obviously knew Allison was his daughter and where they-

Oh god, Derek Hale knew where they lived. He thought as they pulled into the gas station after him, Chris parking his own SUV  in front of him and Aaron and Brent in their SUV parking behind. He had to deal with this situation soon. Putting this off like he had been was beyond unacceptable. He couldn’t keep putting his own family at risk for sentimentality for someone who didn’t deserve it in the least. He wouldn’t do it now.... But soon. Chris got out as Derek Hale carefully watched him like a cornered dog. He communicated to the other two to back off and just stand by their car in case they were needed. Violent confrontation wasn’t what he was looking for tonight if he could help it. And even Chris stayed a good distance away until Derek had finished pumping and put everything back where it belonged. Derek Hale and Gasoline wasn’t a combination he was looking to mess with. Once Derek finished pumping his gas, Chris stepped closer, instantly gaining Derek’s defensive attention.

“Nice ride…” He said tapping the hood as he sauntered closer, but not too close. He rubbed a blemish of dirt off attentively. “Black cars though… Very hard to keep clean.” He looked Derek in the eye as he moved over to the squeegee station by the trash can. “I would definitely suggest… a little more maintenance .” He looked away as he took out the squeegee brush and brought it over, as Hale gave him a bewildered little squint, not breaking his poker face. “You have something this nice, you wanna take care of it.” He set the brush down on the windshield and gently started pulling it across. “Personally... I’m very protective of the things I love.” He tried to say without the bitter twinge to his voice that still tainted his words with malice. “That’s something I learned from my family… ‘N you don’t have much of that these days…..” He looked to Derek as he finished, trying not to glare back the same way Derek was glaring at him. “Do you?” He glanced down to where Derek was clenching his fist, squeezing enough that his knuckles popped. As if he had any right to be offended by that. Chris forced himself not to ask ‘and whose fault is that?’. Maybe he hadn’t killed his sister, as Dean was apparently convinced. He hadn’t had the chance to ask Sam’s opinion. Though he trusted his objectivity more, he had mostly avoided him since they’d worked with him and his grandfather. Still if it weren’t for what Derek had done, Laura Hale wouldn’t be dead. None of them would be… But Derek didn’t attack; didn’t even say anything, just let his fist unclench, unturned. Chris nodded to the windshield, satisfied with Derek’s apparent understanding of what he was getting at.

“And there we go… You can finally see though your windshield.” He turned back to look Derek in the eyes again. “See how that makes things… so much clearer?” He let his smile fall as he turned and started walking back towards his car.

“Forgot to check the oil…” He heard the voice for the first time. And he couldn’t describe how much it hurt. The voice itself didn’t sound much at all like Peter’s, but the way he said it, and the tone, and the gall… He could picture Peter there, in the same position, making the same smartass remark, whether or not it meant getting killed, because he could never stand to be a coward, even when it was undeniably smart. But then he remembered, this was the person who killed Peter. He tried not to turn but he couldn’t help it. His smile was vicious. He made his feet stay still though

“Check the man’s oil.”  He said, nodding to Brent. Brent seemed put out by the admittedly ridiculous request but maintained a casual smile as he walked up alongside the car, before breaking in the driver’s side window and peeking in. None of them paid any mind to the lights over head that for a second took turns flickering, their fluorescent humming sounding angry.

“Looks good to me.” Brent answered happily. Chris nodded a farewell to Derek, who hadn’t flinched, as he climbed back into his SUV.

“Drive safely.” He called, before the three of them drove off.

Chapter Text

Stiles didn’t know where he was or what he was doing to any meaningful extent, beyond what looking around told him.

He was climbing stairs.

In a dim and unwelcoming stairwell, as the lights flickered...

Angrily.

Violently.

Desperately.

Occasionally bursting and raining sparks and glass down unto the stairs.

He didn’t know why he was climbing them. He couldn’t bring himself to conjure the reason. His brain wasn’t with him enough to think.

He looked down at the next step. There was blood in the crushed glass.

He looked forward, up the stairs. It was the first time he’d even realized doing so was a possibility.

The silhouette of a woman in a hospital gown rounded the corner to the set of stairs above just as he did, disappearing from sight.

He didn’t know when they’d reached the top, but now they were on the roof, the sky black around them. Starless, but no clouds as far as he could tell.

“Mom?” He said as soon as the little consciousness he had came to him, looking up at her on the edge of the roof, pale and thin, hair dark and messy, looking away from him as she shook in place. “Mom, what are you doing??” He heard the stairwell door open and his father yell, already racing past him.

“Claudia!!!” He heard as his father pushed by him to rush up and grab her. “What are you doing?! Get down from there!” Stiles heard his dad’s panicked voice echo on his ears.

“I couldn’t stay in that room any longer!!” He heard in his mother’s panicked sobs. “Not with him looking at me like that!” His dad sighed, exasperated.

“Sweetie, this is just the dementia, it’s making you par-”

“No! He's trying to hurt me. I don't care if you don't believe me, he is! He's trying to kill me!" She insisted, shaking him gently by her grip on his arms. Stiles looked at the ground to wipe away his tears, only now realizing how small he was.

“Clau, he’s 10 years old… !” His dad tried to reason with her.

“ He’s killing me!! ” She insisted still in a growl, Stiles could see her grip tighten on his dad’s arms, and still it made him nervous, even knowing she wouldn’t hurt him. Not him . “ STOP IT! ” She roared gutturally, scaring him to attention as he realized she was glaring at him now. She never talked to him like that. At least not before she was sick. “Stop looking at me like that!!! Stop!!!” She screamed at him as she ripped herself from his father’s arms as if it were nothing, storming towards him.

“Mom, stop!! You used to-!”

“ Stop looking at me!!! ” She roared again as her razor sharp, brittle nails raked down his cheek, at least one snapping. He could still hear the crisp crack of it, and the tink as it hit the concrete floor of the roof. He flinched as she started hitting him, though he couldn’t feel it, as his father tried to pull her back begging her to stop.

He was still crying as he stood in the dining room.

“Don’t you fucking look at me like that…” His father snarled in a slurred voice.He pointed at him. “It’s you… It’s aaaaaall you….” His father said spitefully, seeming displeased when he didn’t react. “You know, everyday I saw her lyin’ in that hospital bed slowly dying … I thought ‘How the hell am I supposed to raise this stupid kid on my own?’ This hyperactive little bastard that keeps ruining my life !!” His father stopped for a moment just to dump more whiskey into his glass before slamming the bottle down with a clink, making Stiles flinch a bit. He took a long swig, almost downing the entirety of what he’d just poured. “It’s all you…. It’s all you Stiles …” He hissed mockingly, before pointing at him again. “ You … You killed your mother …. And now you’re killing me !” His father threw his half empty glass. Stiles flinched out of the way, letting out a sob. As the glass shattered against a framed family photo, the rest of the photos around the room, seemingly the entire house, echoed with the same ear splitting noise, and the bottle on the table shattered in place on the table. His mind trying to the memory as terrifying now as it was from his childhood perspective, he assumed. But his father cursed angrily as what little was left in the bottle stained his paperwork, and Stiles fell to the ground in fear, sobbing, even though he was well aware it was just a dream at this point.

“Fuckin’ hell,  you little piece of- Look what you fucking did!!!! Just- Go to your fucking room… God fucking damn it….” Stiles didn’t get up, just as he hadn’t that night. He cried looking over at his dad, looking over his damaged paperwork as if he didn’t give a damn about him. His father sneered looking back up at him. “Are you fucking deaf? I said go!!! ”

As his father whipped a file at him, the scene disappeared to an imperceivable void, that seemed to switch between white and black and pure unknown depending on how he thought about it. He chose black.  And hid him from the world as he sobbed where he laid. He jerked to look as he heard his mother’s voice calm and comforting despite what it said.

“You killed me, Mischief…” She said standing there, skin ashen, almost grey, gaunt with black bags under her shining eyes. Suddenly his father was beside her, blood soaking the front of his uniform, insides almost visible. “You killed us both.” His father’s voice said, but…. It felt like the same voice, just different sounding. Suddenly they were Cas and Dean instead. “Just like you’ll kill us.” They both said. Then they were Sam and Lucifer and Crowley. “And us.” And then Tara. “And me…” Then Melissa. “Don’t forget me.” Then Lydia and Jackson. “What about us?” Lydia said. “You’re going to kill us all , Mischief…” Jackson said. Now it was Scott walking towards him. “Is that what you want? To eat us all alive?” It turned into a little boy. A friend of his when he was little. He fell off the jungle gym and broke his neck. “Like you did…” It took the form of his childhood babysitter, after she’d gotten hit by a car. “To us?” It turned into a man in a police uniform he didn’t recognized, that like he’d been mauled. “To all of us?” And suddenly it was Derek but it was so….. wrong . Those scheming eyes, that devilish smile. “ Are you really ready to pay that price, Mischief? ” He cackled an out of place, sinister sounding laugh. “And for what?”

“Fuck you…” He sobbed.

“Are you really that much of a coward, Mischief?”

“Fuck….” He tried to repeat himself. Block it out. But he felt so weak. It laughed his laugh, mocking him with his own face.

“Are you that afraid of us , Mischief?”

“Fuck you!!!” He shouted in response, as he felt something pulling him to consciousness.

Chapter Text

Claire repositioned her hair and lifted her chin a bit more, trying to take a goodnight picture for Kaia. It still wasn’t right. She arched her back a bit more and changed the camera angle. That looked good, she supposed. She hit the camera button. As the timer clicked to one, her bedside lamp flickered. The picture snapped, and of course, it was completely dark, though it’d also made her jump and look away, so the picture would’ve been ruined either way.
“Ew,” She sneered, remembering the ghost was supposedly Stiles’ dad. “Get out and mind your own business, perv…” She said adjusting the light bulb in hopes it would keep it from flickering again, and went back to what she was doing.
The plug ripped out of the outlet as the lamp flew of the end table onto the floor. Claire’s eyes glowed bright red, even though she knew her powers wouldn’t do her any good as an apparition of a teenaged girl flickered into visibility, seeming to be a year or two younger than Stiles, covered in gruesome wounds and blood, neck and arm visibly broken.
“What the fuck…” Claire stuttered, clamoring off the bed, going for her bag. The ghost materialized between her and the bag. Claire swore internally, but it didn’t come at her. All she could really do is stand there. It pointed at the door, glaring at her insistently, apparently not able to speak. Claire tried to relax. She buttoned her flannel and went to open the door as the thing wanted. She looked up and down the hall.
Nothing seemed to be going on. She could hear Dean and Crowley snoring, Sam’s deep breaths, Stiles breathing a bit fast, ragged, almost panting, but definitely still asleep. Claire turned to ask the spirit what it wanted, flinching when she turned to see it right behind her, staring expectantly.
“Fucking shit… What!” She whispered angrily. It looked up away from her, and pointed where it was looking, across the hall to Stiles’ door. Claire hesitated but turned away again, walking carefully up to Stiles’ door. Now that she was closer and paying attention, she could hear Stiles’ sniffling and lungs shaking as he inhaled, and hitch as he exhaled. She relaxed a bit, relieved it sounded like he was just having a nightmare. She opened the door, not bothering with the light. She didn’t need to see with how well she could hear and smell Stiles. She figured the moonlight from the window and the light coming from her room would be enough for Stiles to see her, since he’d been in the dark for hours. Stiles’ was shaking so hard she could hardly get a hold of him. Finally she did and she gave him a gentle shake. “Stiles!” She whispered. It didn’t work. She shook a little harder, and suddenly he flung himself into a sitting positions. She grabbed him trying to be comforting in her hold on him. “Woah, hey, hey!” She tried.

“Fuck you-fuck you!!” He stuttered as he woke, obviously not speaking to her, breathing heavy, still sobbing. She sat on the bed and hugged him.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, Stiles, you’re awake, it’s okay….” As he seemed to come back to reality, he gripped her arm and leaned his head on hers as he tried to stop crying. After a few minutes letting him calm down in silence, she pulled away, rubbing his back. “You gonna be alright, dude?” He looked to her and nodded, giving a dry sniffle.

“Y-Yeah, thanks... I’m gonna take a bath, try to calm down…” He said shakily, sounding like it was hard to speak.

“Kay… I’m about to wind down, but you know where I am, yeah? Don’t worry about giving a knock...” She felt awkward, she wasn’t good at people, but she wanted to make sure he knew she was there if he needed anything. She’d been there before, she knew how hard it was suffering all alone. He nodded.

“Thanks, I will…” He smiled and Claire took that as her cue to leave. She went back to her room, not wanting to worry him by telling him what happened. She put the lamp back. Texted Kaia about what had happened. Sent a few selfies. Said her good nights, and sweet dreams again. Slipped her iron crowbar out of her bag and put it under her bed. She pulled back the covers, snuggled into bed, turned out the lights, and tried to relax. With nothing else to focus on, though, she realized she smelled blood that wasn’t her own. Blood from something else. So pungent and distinct and unfamiliar she got out of bed to follow the smell.

Chapter Text

Stiles couldn’t stop shaking as he stumbled around the bathroom, getting the bath ready. He’d almost dropped the bubble bath in before he decided he needed to take a breath and relax while the tub filled.

He stepped over to the sink and braced himself by holding the sides, staring down the drain. The darkness of the hole made him uncomfortable and he looked up. For a moment when he saw his reflection… his mind flashed back to the dream, his own face smiling as he suffered, and it made his heart race with terror. He felt the shards prick into his fist cruelly as he threw it forward. He cursed, as he went to rinse his hands… But at least the mischievous hallucination of his reflection had been dispelled, and the bleeding had stopped with a gently rinse of cold water.

He looked over and the water was nearing the rim of the tub. He hurried over to stop it, cursing and shaking getting worse as his breathing followed suit, wondering how long he’d been standing there.

He knelt beside the tub to catch his breath and let the spinning of his head slow. His knees shaking as he got up almost made him face plant into the water, but he managed to get in with minimal falling and splashing.

The water surrounding his torso made it slightly easier to breathe, but didn’t calm the banging of his heart against his ribs and his lungs. It made tears brim in his eyes.

He didn’t know what to fucking do. He felt like his heart was giving out. He could feel the valves of his heart growing sore; if he didn’t know better he would think they would bruise with the force of the pounding. His body still shook, making the water tremble around him.

He couldn’t do this. He didn’t want this to become a regular thing again. He didn’t want things to be how they were before, this time without his dad to help him. He took a deep breath as tears fell down his cheek. He wiped them away, splashing the bath water on his face. It helped to ground him a bit.

He didn’t need help. He didn’t need his half drunken father fretting over him one moment, and guilt tripping him for going insane next. He didn’t need anyone . He’d overcome this himself before,.he could do it again.

His eyes flicked to Sam’s razor and rubbing alcohol sitting on the side of the tub. It had worked in the past to help calm him. Chances were it still would. He’d promised his father he’d stop when they’d both started doing better… But his father had promised he’d be there for him so he wouldn’t have to… Stiles looked to the door to make sure he’d locked it. He picked up the razor, cleaned the blades thoroughly, making sure there wasn’t any hair or skin or dirt stuck in it. He would make sure to rinse the cuts with hydrogen peroxide when he finished before he washed up, or if he was feeling particularly masochistic, maybe some of the alcohol. He drenched the razor in the alcohol and rinsed it off under the tap. He settled back into the water and relaxed as much as he could before bringing one of his legs out of the water and setting the razor against his leg, pulling is sideways, slow and easy as he felt it cut into his skin gently. His heart still pounded insistently, frantically but there was a feeling of relief as it seemed to at least start to relent. He moved it down slightly and cut again, starting to feel the faintest tingles of pain as he did. He had to sigh in relief as it showed signs of working. He moved it again and slid it slower.

Next thing he knew, before he even finished dragging the razor across his thigh, he heard the door open, and before he could turn to see her, Claire was beside the tub, grabbing his hand gently and taking the razor out of it, setting it aside.

“ Dude, what the fuck were you thinking- ” She whispered obviously concerned, but voice understanding. He shook his head.

“Claire, it’s not like that, I wasn’t trying to-to kill myself or anything, it’s just- it helps me calm down-” Claire grabbed his shoulders, making him look her in the eye.

“Stiles, I get that, I understand where you’re coming from, trust me, but doing this? Without letting any of us know ? You can’t just do this, Stiles, you could have died, and none of us would’ve known to come and check on you!!”

“It’s not that bad, I wouldn’t have cut enough to-” He tried to argue, shaking his head. She shook him gently.

“What are you talking about?? Look at yourself. Look around you!” She whispered, gesturing down at the tub. Stiles complied, shocked to see the water heavily tinted a bright red. He looked at his thighs to see they were covered in the little cuts, varying in depth. He hadn’t done that, he didn’t remember doing that. He-he must have blacked out….

“C-Claire I didn’t- I-I didn’t mean to- I-” She nodded.

“I know, I know, I’ve been there…. But that’s why you tell someone , so they can check on you and make sure you’re okay. Scott, me, one of the guys, anyone. If you feel like you have to do this, that’s your choice, but you have to promise me you’re not gonna be a fucking idiot about it and wind up dead…” She looked at him pleadingly, taking his shaking hand in her stead firm grip. He didn’t know what to say…. He just nodded. “ No, Stiles, I want you to promise me right now, you’re not going to do this again without warning someone…” Tears were brimming in his eyes. He nodded, squeezing her hand softly.

“I promise… I’ll tell someone….” He murmured, tears choking up his throat. Claire leaned in, headbutting him softly, putting her other arm around his shoulders.

“It’s okay… I’m here, I’ve got you, dude….” She cooed gently. That only made him cry more. He didn’t deserve this kind of concern.

“Why… do you care??” Stiles asked bewildered, but not ungrateful. She smiled, squeezing his hand.

“Foster kids look out for each other... That’s just how it goes… I’m your sister now. I’ve gotta take care of you…” She offered glibly. He just sat with her in the silence for a bit.

“You… won’t tell anyone about this… will you? I don’t want them to think I’m….” He was worried, but Claire shook her head.

“Our little secret. I promise.”

Chapter Text

John had to more or less rush into the house as Stiles opened the door when they came home from school. It was hell to get in the house unless one of the doors were open, at least for him . The others seem to be able to manage just fine, since they’d been around longer and were stronger. He assumed what caused the issue was the salt these weirdos put all over the place, since he didn’t have any problems walking right through doors and walls anywhere else. When he got inside, Claudia still stood on the stairs where she’d been when they left, seeming out of it, as she sometimes was. When she noticed they were back, she smiled and came down to greet them. Well.... Him. He smiled as she came to hug him. “Hey sweetie… Why didn’t you hang out with Anna and Jacob out back? Seems like they’re having a killer game of hide and seek…”

“I’m not feeling very… energetic today… Figured I’d spend some time with Luci instead, soak up some of that angelic vigor you know.” She looked to the supposed “angel” and John’s gaze followed. Lucifer got up as Stiles came in .

“Hey, hey, hold on a sec, kiddo…” Stiles did as he was told as Luc came over and put a hand on his shoulder. “I- uh… I know you had a rough night, I was thinking maybe, if you wanted to, maybe you and I- we could hang out for a bit, ya know, like meditate out on the back porch… or something else, if you want…”

“Claire told you about last night?” Stiles asked, sighing with disappointment and betrayal.

“Nope. Just superhuman empath and clairvoyance. Pinky swear. So?? Is that a no?” Lucifer asked in a voice that was half hopeful and half manipulative. Stiles shook his head.

“Um, no, that sounds great, thanks, Luc. I’ve gotta take my stuff upstairs and figure out what I’m gonna wear tonight, and I’ll be right down…” They shared a nod of agreement, and John figured he’d give Stiles his space, waiting downstairs with Claudia instead of following him up.

“So…” He started, getting Claudia’s attention. “How’s the fort holding down? Claire tell Dean and Cas what happened or…?” Claudia shook her head.

“She told them about him having a bad dream, and about what Annalise did, but we were expecting that much. Nothing about… the incident …” Claudia said carefully. John sighed.

“Claudia, are you sure it’s safe to let them keep that a secret?? He could’ve gotten seriously hurt…” He tried not to fret too much as Claudia shook her head.

“I did the same thing when I was his age, John, I made it out okay… And it was… a lot more dangerous when I was his age.” Claudia gave a soft nervous laugh. Lucifer glanced at him.

“While I agree that’s not the best approach…” Claudia blew a raspberry at Luc as he paused for a moment. “I think Claire’s approach, as far as Claudia filled me in was probably the best that can be done. Let him know he shouldn’t, but be there for him so if he insists upon doing so. It’s not like Dean and Cas can stop him from doing it...” Crowley cleared his throat.

“Stop talking to the vermin, dear.” He muttered to Lucifer, who simply rolled his eyes.

“I’m starting to enjoy their company more than yours, Darling… ” Sam was panting as he came in from the back after his run. He couldn’t see him or Claudia, of course.

“Whose company??” He asked, panting softly as he tried to catch his breath.

“The children’s, of course. Who else would we mean??” Crowley said, begrudgingly lying for them, or at least so Lucifer didn’t have to. They watched Sam shrug before coming over to cuddle up with Luc.

“Ew, PDA, I’m outtie.” Claudia said, then disappeared. John tried not to pay attention, give the trio their privacy while they all waited for Stiles to get back. It took about 20 minutes but soon enough he was coming back down the stairs, more comfortably dressed in his team sweatpants and an old tee shirt.

“Hey, Sorry for the wait. You ready?” He called down as he descended the stairs, probably knowing better than to sneak up on these three. Lucifer was up before Stiles had hit the bottom step.

“Ab-so-lutely…” John followed as the two went out to the backyard. Lucifer was kind enough to walk whenever John or one of the others was following, particularly John, since he couldn’t teleport nearly as well or as far the others apparently could. The two went over to sit in the grass in front of the small wooden patio, facing toward the woods, and got down to meditating, he supposed. He instead, went to greet the kids. Jacob ran over and jumped into his arms.

“Sheriff!!!” He squealed as John picked the little boy up and twirled him around. Annalise was suddenly next to them, smiling with the half of her face she still had to smile with. He didn’t know if he’d ever get used to her looking like that.

“Mr. Stilinski! Welcome back. Did you two have a good day at school??” She asked without speaking. He’d tried to get her to actually speak like the rest of them did, but her voice came out garbled and mangled, as if her trachea was crushed. He didn’t know why that was. He and Jacob and Rourke looked as fine as they ever did. However, Anna looked like she had after the accident, and Claudia looked just like she did in her coffin at her funeral. If there was some rhyme or reason to it, John couldn’t see it.

“Ugh…” John groaned. “Harris did a pop quiz of what they’ve been learned so far, to prepare for their test…. Um….” Damn it, he couldn’t remember when the test was. Annalise laughed.

“Friday. Three weeks since they started, I believe.” She said. John shook his head.

“On the one hand I can’t believe it’s been three weeks since he started school, on the other, I can’t believe it’s only been three weeks since he started school…”

“You get used to that feeling after a while…”

“Really?” He asked, a little surprised. Jacob laughed.

“Nope!!”

Chapter Text

They spent a while talking like that. John played with the two of them a bit, while Stiles and Luc meditated. Honestly he could tell it was helping. He could feel the calm weightlessness flowing through him as Stiles unwound and cleared his mind. It didn’t feel like long before Rourke appeared beside them, though it must have been a while, as it was starting to get dark now.

“Aaaay, guess who the fuck finally decided to show up.” Rourke joked. John rolled his eyes.

“Jim, language around the kid.” John said mostly for show, knowing Jacob had probably heard every word in the book. Rourke shrugged though.

“Whatever you say, Boss. Tall, dark, and stupid’s pulling up.” Lucifer had either heard them or heard Derek’s car or suddenly had somewhere better to be because he disappeared from beside Stiles.

“Did you bring him back all in one piece?” John asked.

“Despite his best efforts, I managed to. Stupid fucking douche nearly picked a fight with that Argent dill weed, when dude was already about to pop him. Like seriously, the fuck…” Rourke complained, shaking his head. John glared dully. “Yeah, sorry, language, I know. I’m just pissed. And tired. I’m telling you, I can not go with them tonight, if I have to be around that dingbat another minute, I’m gonna fu-....” Jim sighed. “I’m gonna knock his- mm-hm-hm- lights out…”

“Thanks for the update, Jim, you were honestly no help at all.”

“Delighted to be of service, Boss.” Rourke answered, giving a grand bow. John tried to focus on the front driveway and give his best effort to project himself there. He succeeded, standing next to Luc as Derek pulled up to the house.

“Nice job.” Luc muttered to him, not looking over. John nodded his thanks, stepping away as not to distract him. As Derek got out, Lucifer made his way around to the driver’s side of the car, rounding the front of the car. John followed, keeping his distance. Apparently Derek could tell Luc wasn’t his usual benevolent self, and set himself into a defensive anxious mood already, probably leftover from whatever went on with Argent.

“Hey…” Derek said, as Lucifer drummed his fingers on the remnants of Derek’s driver’s side window which seemed to be broken in.

“Youchie. How’d this happen??” Lucifer said, playing nice enough considering he wasn’t at all fond of Derek so far, but very clearly not giving a single shit.

“Um, it’s-it’s nothing, Argent stopped to give me shit while I was getting gas. It’s not a big deal.” Derek said nervously. They both looked toward the house, apparently hearing something. John could feel Stiles’ heart rate kick up high very suddenly, then slowly settle down again. Lucifer pouted his lips in that way he did when he was making a show of considering something. He gave a vague gesture and the glass of the window was suddenly all back in place, as if it’d never been broken at all.

“Fixed that tail light you mentioned too, hope you don’t mind.” Lucifer murmured politely as an afterthought. “Would make sure everything is running well, but honestly I don’t really know shit about cars… I was a bit trapped in hell when they were invented, and Sam was never as interested in them as much as Dean was.” Derek seemed taken aback.

“Wow, uh, not at all, thank you. I really appreciate it…” He said obviously not knowing how else to react. Lucifer rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t do it for your gratitude, I just didn’t-… think Sam would want the brat sitting on glass or getting in another car accident because of you… ” John cleared his throat at Lucifer, hoping to get him to calm down but Stiles was already coming through the front door.

“Luc!!” He called, in almost a hushed scolding tone. Luc looked at him a bit amused.

“Yes, very tiny defenseless human child who should probably watch his tooooone … What do ya’ need?” Stiles narrowed his eyes scrupulously.

“Mm-hm, quick question, which part of your millenia old incomprehensibly wise and all knowing Galaxy Brain thought it was a good idea to leave the very tiny defenseless human child who should probably watch his tone alone in the backyard… with an actual live coyote he didn’t know was there??? Just- Just curious how your DIVINE SAGACITY came to that conclusion, ya know??” Stiles asked, John could tell, trying to both not yell and upset Luc, but also not laugh or grin and undermine his argument. Lucifer chuckled.

“It was friendly.”

“Friendly??” Stiles asked, offended. “It’s a wild animal that could and gladly would eat my face for dinner. It could have killed me in like an ACTUAL second!” Stiles rambled off in a single breath. Lucifer just tilted his head with a smile.

“But it didn’t… so?? Technically I’m right.” Stiles gave that gobsmacked little squint with his mouth agape he always did when he felt someone was wrong but didn’t have an argument left to counter with.

“You are unbelievable.”

“Factually incorrect. Just accounting for Christianity, Islam, and Judaism approximately at least 4 billion people believe in me. And I think that’s still a pretty conservative estimate.” Lucifer cited with a smug little smirk, seeming thoroughly proud of himself.

“Oh! How cute, Devil’s got jokes! Hilarious.” Stiles sighed, though obviously genuinely smiling. “I’m gonna go kiss my boyfriend now.” Stiles side stepped Lucifer as he rolled his eyes and disappeared. Once he was gone, Derek was quick to step into Stiles’ arms leaning down to kiss him. John looked away, sighing irritably, though he knew neither could hear him. “Mmm… You’re good at that…” Stiles laughed once they separated. John was getting really tired of having to be a fly on the wall for shit like this. “How was your day??” At least now maybe he wouldn’t have to listen to Rourke’s bitching?

“Eh, kind of a mixed bag. Visited the bus driver in the hospital…” Derek said in a not very promising tone. Stiles gave an optimistic look.

“He say anything worth looking into?”

“Just the words ‘I’m sorry’... and… then he died… so…. That was fun…” Derek said glumly.

“Wait, what? He just like? Straight up kicked it? And that’s all he said?” Stiles asked equal parts disappointed and confused.

“Yeah… It was weird, but I mean… He was mauled by an Alpha apparently, so it wasn’t that surprising…” Derek sighed. Stiles shrugged.

“Fair, I guess I would have been more surprised had he like, survived and turned or whatever…”

“After that though, I went to meet your, um… friend and bought that nightshade for my mom’s emissary.”

“What’s with that reaction? Mors is the best.” Stiles questioned offendedly. John had to agree, Mors was pretty great… but ummmmm….

“Okay, be straight with me for a second-”

“Impossible, but go on.”

“Adorable, but maybe shut up. - Honest to god, is he… Is your florist friend like Death Death?” Yeah… that. John had found that out the first time Stiles had visited the cemetery after he died. It’d been a bit of a shock. Stiles however didn’t catch on.

“Is that a… variation on the Moon Moon meme I’m not familiar with, or-”

“Stiles, Is he the actual physical embodiment of Death: yes or no? Do not fuck with me here…” Derek gave an expectant look. Stiles was, needless to say, flabbergasted.

“Is that an actual question you’re asking me right now? I mean no, not to the best of my knowledge? What the fuck kind of question is that, he’s a tiny old freaking danish florist, why would he be the near omnipotent deity commonly known as-...” Stiles froze mid sentence, seeming to have a realization. John couldn’t blame him. Roman mythos was never his strong suit, and who the hell would jump to that conclusion? John was still trying to wrap his head around The Actual Christian God now being Stiles’ actual adoptive grandfather. “Uh… I’ll um… I’ll ask Sam about it later, I don’t even know if that’s like a thing…. I doubt it though? I don’t.. Ugh Um, anything else fun? Lucifer didn’t give you a hard time, did he?” Stiles asked anxiously. Derek shook his head, sighing.

“No, Lucifer actually fixed up the car for us, it was nice of him. Argent did, a bit-”

“What?? How, what’d he do now?” Stiles asked attentively. Derek shook his head, dismissively this time.

“Nothing, I’m fine, just a bit of implied threatening, that all. I assume because we’re gonna be hanging out with Allison tonight. It’s not a big deal.” Stiles sighed, giving a look like he was practicing a lot of self control, and John could feel the anger and hate coming off him.

“Yeah, okay… I just. I really wish he’d back off you, I get worried.” Derek seemed to feel a bit guilty about that, which John couldn’t blame him. He pulled Stiles into a hug, kissing the side of his head.

“I’ll be fine. I’m not going anywhere.” He murmured comfortingly. “How ‘bout you? How’re you feeling? Other than worried for me.”

“Mmm… Ya ever feel like you’d kill a man for some skittles?” Stiles asked, mostly jokingly. Though John wouldn’t doubt that he would. No one came between Stiles and a craving. Derek laughed softly through a smile, pressing his forehead to Stiles.

“Yeah, definitely know that feel.” Derek answered with a soft hint of sarcasm. Seriously, how was your day? Sleep okay, have fun at school? You seem a little anxious today...” Derek asked as they both pulled away. Stiles groaned.

“Um, no. Close though! Woke up from a nightmare and had the worst panic attack I’ve had in years. Claire helped calm me down before school, she’s great. And then I couldn’t concentrate in classes and I failed a pop quiz so hard, Harris spent 10 minutes tearing into me about how much of a colossal failure I am and how I’ll never find any happiness in life if I fail our test coming up and how I need to stop being lazy and study…” Derek gave a shocked look, which was fair. Harris hadn’t laid in that hard. Harris seemed to save that level of vitrial for parents considered shitty guardians, or just had a grudge against or didn’t like. Stiles’ self loathing, and having heard Harris and John argue pretty viciously for years, kind of just twisted how he heard what was probably meant to be guidance and support more than criticism. “Okay, I’m paraphrasing a little but seriously only a little...” Stiles admitted after a moment. Derek nodded understandingly.

“Dude’s a dick, don’t let him give you that kind of shit... Do you wanna talk about your dream??” Stiles looked conflicted. Even the 5 of them didn’t know what the dream had been. They could just feel the sadness and anguish it’d caused him whatever it was he’d tortured himself with.

“I dunno, it’s not like a huge deal or anything.”

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal to talk about it, Stiles. It upset you. Whatever way you think is best to deal with that, I wanna support you. It’s up to you.”

“I-” Stiles took a shakey breath. “Upstairs? It’s... a lot, I don’t think I can get into it down here.” Derek nodded and let Stiles lead him inside by his hand. Dean stopped them as they came in, giving Stiles a hug and giving Derek a reluctant fist bump. Oh, HARD same, my guy. Derek was nice, John would admit, and it seemed a good source of support, validation, and as much as wasn’t thrilled about it, affection for Stiles, and it seemed to be good for Stiles to have someone to provide that for that he didn’t have such a huge sense of responsibility and familiality for. Stiles even mother-henned him when he was alive, keeping an eye on his physicals and making sure John didn’t kill himself with too much junk food. He even sometimes helped with paperwork when he could. John had always worried he’d have a hard time being in a real, give and take, equal, adult relationship. And that didn’t seem to be the case. The only- well, no, not only, but the main problem was, he’d hoped that would come when he was an adult . Stiles would scold him, saying he was almost 17 and say he’d met Claudia well before that and got together very young, and that if he wanted him to be happy he’d have to learn to respect his independence. But most people weren’t he and Clau, and respecting he should make his own choices didn’t mean he had to like his choices. Especially when his boyfriend of choice was a werewolf who multiple people apparently want dead. He… He didn’t dislike him as much as Lucifer seemed to... He just wanted a bit of time to… get used to it.

“Hey, s’up?” Dean nodded, amiably. Derek shrugged casually.

“The usual…”

“Did you bring the…?”

“I left it in the back seat.” Derek nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Scott wants us to wait for him to get here.” Stiles muttered a bit uncomfortably.

“O’course…” Dean said sympathetically, seeming to regret bringing it up in front of Stiles. John really hoped Clau was right and this wouldn’t work. He couldn’t help but worry. “If you’re heading up, try to keep it quite, Claire’s laying down. Hunting she doesn’t mind, but apparently shopping exhausts her.”

“ Dean Ross Winchester, don’t you dare steal my jokes .” Cas called belyingly casually, although seeming to be focusing on something he was doing at the table. John went over to see what he was up to, as the boys started up the stairs.. There were art supplies all over the table, apparently Cas had gotten some stuff aside from what little the school supplied. But in front of him was a folder of different sketches. Apparently Cas had taken a note from Adrian and done his own little pop quiz. There were a number that were crude scribbles, and even some that were just doodles of… certain anatomies that teens tend to be obsessed with, to varying degrees of detail. Though Cas largely gave high grades on them just as much as the serious ones. Only a few had slightly lower grades, only going as low as a ‘C’, with little notes saying ‘please put your heart into your work! have fun!!’. And even a few more of the better more serious drawings had ‘C’s or ‘B’s than the doodles. Cas’ methods were… interesting to say the least. “Please, don’t be nosey, Sheriff Stilinski, I’m supposed to keep my students work private unless otherwise agreed upon and I would prefer not to betray that confidence.” John was a bit surprised.

“Uh, sorry…” He answered, not sure if Cas could or couldn't hear him, but stepping away all the same.

“I thought you couldn’t see this th- uh, guy… ” Dean asked as he came in, apparently having the same thought.

“I can’t, but I can feel him, and I do know what someone looking over my shoulder feels like…” Oh. Well that kind of made sense. Cas didn’t seem to be of the same level as Lucifer. Maybe on par with the other guy in the suit, but that guy seemed to have been human, and seems closer in relation to a ghost, which… John figured was the closest possible thing to whatever he’d be considered. For some reason that made John uncomfortable, feeling…. Almost invisible. Being clearly perceivable without being seen or heard almost felt worse than not being noticed at all. John decided he better get upstairs... if he wanted to hear about Stiles dream and all.

Chapter Text

When John appeared, the boys were already on the bed talking. Claudia was sitting on the floor, petting Juliet, a solemn,worried look on her face. Derek spoke, apparently in response to something Stiles had said.

“Yeah, of course I remember… Did you dream about her...?” He asked curiously. Stiles did shake his head but didn’t nod, just gave a conflicted look that showed it wasn’t so simple, and demanded a bit of patience.

“She had-.... The doctors’ best guess was a rare form of Dementia. Towards the end, more and more she just… wasn’t herself. She-... She was manic, and paranoid, and unpredictable… Her lucid moments were pretty rare, and even then… She was dying and- and of course she was scared and depressed. And most of the time I was the only one there for her. Dad had to work, I was there- at the hospital- whenever I wasn’t in school. She was inconsolable…” Stiles took a shakey breath. Derek rubbed his shoulder.

“Take your time, Stiles…” Derek said in a low, quite tone.

“One night… Dad was a few minutes late, and she’d been antsy all night, wouldn’t stop shaking, pacing, didn’t say a word. And then she left her room. I followed her to the stairs, begged her to come back, said dad would be there soon. She didn’t say a word, didn’t even turn around. I followed her up the stairs, I wanted to make sure she was okay. She went to the roof. I didn’t even really know about…. That kind of stuff, yet. But she walked up to the edge and it scared me and I was worried she’d... fall… so I tried to ask her what she was doing. She-She didn’t answer, she still wouldn’t look at me. My father showed up and pulled her away, tried to talk some sense into her. But… She said she could stand to be in the same room with me, looking at her. She said…” Stiles hunched down to rest his face in his hand, elbow on his knee. Derek kept a comforting hand on his shoulder. “She said I was hurting her, that I was trying to kill her. He tried to calm her down, but she insisted. I was watching and she noticed, and screamed at me to stop. I didn’t know what to do, I froze up, and she… she… ” Stiles sat up straight and felt the side of his face his mother had clawed all to hell that night. Claudia pulled her knees to her chest and started to sob. John came over to comfort her and stop the shaking of the computer chair next to her. Stiles’ finger found the least healed of the 4 marks, and ran his finger down the length of it. Derek went stiff as Stiles pointed it out to him. “...She attacked me, started hitting me. It took a few minutes until she lost enough steam that dad could finally tear her away… After that, the nurses kept a closer eye on us…” Derek rubbed Stiles’ back as calmly as he could.

“You dreamt about that?” He asked, seeming to realize his hope was misplaced.

“First…. Then about my dad… the night before he finally started trying to drink less, and get better…. He said I killed my mother, and I was ruining his life, and I was gonna kill him too, and then he whipped a glass at my head… And then I had a weird dream, of all my friends… family, saying I was going to be the death of them too… And of my friend from when I was like 5 and my baby sitter from when I was like 7 or 8, telling me it was my fault they were dead, and then you, and then me- myself, laughing at my own pain and I just, spiraled into a really, really dark place, and then Claire woke me up- and helped me calm down.” Stiles finished by huffing out a sigh, as Derek nodded taking all Stiles had said in. “And now... I’m fine, because this… is something I’ve just gotten used to, at this point...” Derek gave Stiles a stern insistent look, the same one John would give before telling him not to be so dismissive of himself, but he settled to just move closer and wrap an arm around Stiles and hold him, comforting him.

Claudia however was shaking, with remorse and anger.

“Babe, it’s okay, just try to-” John tried to comfort her quietly as Juliet paced the room now. Suddenly the computer kicked on, off of sleep mode, as Claudia screamed an ear piercing scream, broadcast through the computer’s speakers as a strange distorted crackling screech. Stiles jumped up, as Juliet barked and whined insistently at the two of them. He rushed over through the two of them to try to find what tab, or window, or app the scream was coming from, before turning it off, unable to find it. Claudia pulled john close, crying into his shoulder, as their son stood in their spectral forms, cursing about the strange event.

Chapter Text

After filling in Dean and Cas on the latest happening, the boys came back upstairs, cuddling up, talking about other things, listening to music, the kind of crap couples just sorta did when they hung out, though they seemed to realize after what had happened it would be impolite to get too… affectionate. After a while Claire padded out of her room quickly, on the balls of her feet, legs stiff and tight together.

“Oh, is she…?”Claudia asked curiously, not finishing her thought even though only John could hear her.

“Um…”  John sucked in a hesitant breath. He’d seen her unpacking products but he really didn’t wanna assume or get into her business…

“ PERIOD ” Stiles’ stupid app on his phone croaked, as apparently they’d both thunk about it too hard. Damn it all . Derek covered his face where he was sitting behind Stiles, and Stiles was already beat red, turning off the app.

“What the fuck!!” He whispered, laughing softly, pausing a second before turning to Derek. “Do you think she-?”

“ Yes, I heard!! ” Claire yelled from the bathroom. “Tell your stupid ghosts to mind their own fucking business!!!” She made a loud fed up noise.

“Sorry!” Stiles answered for them, at normal speaking volume. After a few minutes Claire padded back to bed across the hall. About five more minutes later, she opened her door again, this time with sweatpants on under her flannel, and padded up to the doorway, knocking softly on the door frame. “Yeah?” Stiles asked, John assumed not being able to see her from where the boys were on the bed. She peeked in.

“I can’t get back to sleep right now, and Kaia’s asleep, can I chill in here a bit ‘til I get tired?” The boys were both already agreeing insistently, Stiles moving his phone and Derek eyeballing to make sure there was enough room for her to comfortably join them. Claire only took the edge of the bed though, curling up on her side next to them. “Thanks…” She muttered, using Stiles’ pillow to block the light a bit. “I’ve been cuddly as fuck since I turned, so it’s weird to sleep alone…” She explained, probably just to eat the silence.

“Don’t worry about it.” Stiles assured, gently gliding a hand over her head. As surprised as Derek appeared to be at the gesture, Claire seemed appreciative, and curled up a bit tighter. Stiles and Derek quietly listened to some relaxing music, and talked about random stuff in smooth murmurs. After a while Claire rolled onto her stomach, and turned her head away with a small groan. Stiles and Derek looked at her quizzically.

“Why do you smell so weird and pungent?” She asked without any prompting. Derek either couldn’t contain his chuckle, or decided not to. Claudia covered her mouth as she snickered, even though no one could hear them but themselves. Kid wasn’t wrong. Even to a human nose, Stiles always had quite a musk. Stiles just rolled his eyes.

“I’m a teenage boy, let me and my stink live.”

“”Mm, it’s not bad, it’s just… notable.” Claire offered.

“Yeah, it’s just something interesting about you…” Derek agreed, obviously trying to save face, whether he was being honest or not.

“Good to know my stink is endearing.” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“It totally is…” Claire muttered sleepily. Derek just nodded in agreement, kissing Stiles shoulder. Stiles ran a hand over Claire’s hair again.

“Go to sleep already, you funky little werewolf.” He murmured, already flicking through his phone again as he anticipated the ending of the current song. Claire mewled comfortably in a way that wasn’t particularly human-like or animalistic. She settled all the same. John wasn’t sure if she was actually asleep but her breathing was shallow and relaxed, so they figured she was at least resting soundly. After a little while, John and Claudia, and it seemed the boys as well, though they ignored it, heard faint ghostly little feet running up the stairs. Anna appeared in the doorway before Jacob had made it down the hall.

“Aw!!!” Jake said loudly, ruining the atmosphere a bit, as kids tended to. “You beat me again!!! No fair!!!” Anna laughed.

“Why don’t you just blink then?” She asked, mouth unmoving.

“That’s no fun though!!!” Jacob whined. Anna shook her head at him gently.

“Go on.” She told him, motioning into the room. Jake rushed in, hopping about excitedly.

“Sheriff, Sheriff, Annie said I could go with Stiles and Scott tonight!!”

“Jacob…” Anna scolded. “No I didn’t, I told you to ask Mr. Stilinski and Claudia.” Jacob pouted but complied.

“Please can I go?? Please, please, please, please!!!” Jake asked insistently. Claudia looked to John. He’d told her he wanted to help her keep order amongst them, since he was Stiles’ father, though she had much more experience. So she was largely letting him deal with things she thought he could handle.

“Buddy, I’m not sure you’re going to enjoy it much… It’s just gonna be a bunch of big kids being gross and cuddly. And besides, there’s a big monster out there we’ve gotta worry about, and those mean people who broke in are still out there….” Jacob flailed.

“I can be scary too, look!” Before John could stop him, he’d flung all the other upstairs doors open. Before he could slam them closed, Juliet was growling warningly, giving him a stern look, and he stopped. “Sorry, Julie.” He squeaked. John rubbed his temple, as Stiles and Derek uncomfortable went back to what they were doing.

“Okay, Jake, you can go, if Anna is okay taking you with.” John looked up to Anna who nodded immediately.

“Gladly…” She said happily, smiling. “Scott’s coming up the drive, by the way. He should be up in a few minutes, assuming he didn’t forget his key.” Of course, Stiles phone notified as a text came in.

“That’s probably him.” Claudia mused, relaxed but exhausted, almost seeming to be dazed. Derek looked on curiously as Stiles went to the conversation to get rid of the notification.

“‘Jhm’? What’s that mean?” He asked, confused, probably assuming it was some slang acronym. Stiles chortled a bit.

“It means he’s on his bike and he’s got no coordination.” He answered snarkily as steps (the non-ghostly sort) climbed the stairs. There was so many people in the house, John couldn’t really tell whose footsteps were whose yet. Soon the question answered itself. Whoever it was popped into the master bedroom, then cautiously made their way down the hall. Eventually Dean was standing in the doorway.

“Hi, Dean!!!” Jacob called, excitedly jumping about, though of course, as the longest dead out of all of them, he knew Dean wouldn’t hear. Anna just nodded moving aside. John didn’t quite understand this habit of greeting the living, and Claudia didn’t usually bother with it, so he decided not to either. Dean,of course having not been aware of any of this, stepped in just slightly to talk to the... youngins? - and awkwardly jerked a thumb over his shoulder.

“Uh, hey, good to see you’re all having a nice little hang out. Quick question, the fuck’s up with all the doors being open?” Dean tried to seem as casually curious as possible, but was obviously not happy about it. Derek made a bit of an “it wasn’t us” face/gesture, as Stiles shook his head.

“Dean, if I questioned every weird thing that has happened recently, you’d have to send me up to Echo.”

“What the hell is ‘Echo’?” Dean asked, confused like only a non-local could.

“Oh, Dean… You don’t know Echo House?” Stiles said with a chuckle. “Oh, we so need to go over my 37 most severe phobias. That’s gonna be so much fun. I can’t wait.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Very funny. Seriously, what is it?”

“It’s the local mental institution.” Derek answered instead. “They say it’s so bad that you can hear the screams from patients ‘echo’ from it. Thus, it’s called Echo House. But… It’s really just a stupid creepy story.”

“Is it the patients..?” Stiles asked spookily. “Or are they the ghosts of AMERICAN RACISM~?!” Dean gave Stiles a mix of a “Have you lost your mind?” and a “What on earth are you talking about?”. Derek rolled his eyes, elbowing Stiles.

“Don’t joke, that’s serious…” He looked to Dean and Claire. “It used to be part of an internment camp, where a huge massacre happened back during world war 2. Now people think it’s haunted.”

“Not haunted, cursed . God knows the atrocities that happened around there before that. Fires, suicides, murder sprees, experimentations… Some people even say it was a mass grave site back from westward expansion, although in the Urban legends that usually gets twisted to ‘native burial grounds’, which is kinda gross but hey, thank Poltergeist. Not only did they misrepresent what Poltergeists are, they made a huge racist horror cliche.”

“How did they misrepresent Poltergeists? Aren’t they just really destructive ghosts or whatever?” Derek asked, seemingly intending to change the subject. Stiles turned to give him an offended look.

“Ohhh,” Claudia groaned. “He just got himself in so much trouble…”

“Really??” Stiles asked unbelievingly. Derek didn’t seem to see the issue. “...... I might ACTUALLY have to break up with you right now.” Claudia laughed, but John nudged her, as Derek seemed genuinely confused and upset and it was rude to laugh at the kid when he had no clue what was going on, even if he couldn’t hear. Stiles sighed and rolled his eyes. “No. They’re human-made ghosts actually, collections of psychic energy given sense of self by the intense turmoil of humans. Any intense concentration of energy or emotion can cause them, but usually they’re created as a result of trauma. They often plague traumatized teens and foster kids, seemingly those with dormant telekinetic, pyrokinetic, or other psychic abilities, since all us traumatized orphans don’t have chairs stacking on our table or have our wallpaper randomly sparking up. You know?”

“Pffft,” Claire scoffed, mouth half muffled by the bed. “You literally have at least two ghost fucking with your shit like all hours of the day.” Stiles took a deep breath.

“At least one of which we’re pretty sure is my father who was at one point alive and was his own entity and thus does not qualify as a poltergeist, and no one will tell me about the other one, so fuck you both, I hope it does fuck with you.” Stiles said without even expelling the breath he’d taken, letting it out immediately once he finished. Annalise gave a smirk as much as her condition allowed, and flipped the light switch a few times, making everyone pause. John couldn’t even fault her, that was just hilarious. “Thank you, unidentified other ghost, your contribution is greatly appreciated.” Dean gave Stiles a stern glare with no actual authority behind it, probably because he was also amused.

“Don’t encourage them...?” He commanded snarkily under his breath. Annalise flicked the lights one more time just to be petty, making Dean glare.

“I think it’s mocking you…. Sir.” Derek remarked, faintest hint of a smirk.

“Fucking superb, you spooky little ghost.” Claire muttered approvingly.

Chapter Text

John followed Derek down to greet Scott, so Stiles could have a moment alone to change. He was pretty sure Claudia had gone to give Dean and Sam a hard time while they tried to get the fire going.

“Hey.” Derek welcomed as he opened the door before Scott could even knock. Scott stepped in, nodding a bit awkwardly.

“Hey… So, did you bring the bottle or...??” Scott asked. John assumed he couldn’t think of anything else to make conversation about.

“Yeah, I was just about to grab it from the car... Are you... ready, Scott? Um, Stiles mentioned you were close with his dad…” Derek seemed like he wanted to add something. John had no clue what. Maybe “I just wanted to see if you were doing okay” or something like that. If so he could see why Derek didn’t include it. It was a bit awkward and clunky, and probably wouldn’t sound very sincere considered the two weren’t particularly fond of each other.

“I’m... alright, I guess? I mean it’s really sad, but if he’s just going to slowly lose his mind, like Sam said, we should do whatever we can to help him move on…” Scott answered, sulking tone betraying him. Derek took him at his word though, and nodded.

“Right. I’ll be back in a second.” John decided to stay with Scott as Derek hurried out, not wanting to play musical doors more than he had to. Scott seemed to want to say something as the two of them stood there. He sent vibes out toward him as if he could feel him there, guilty and mourning. John tried to send back some kind of comforting energy. He had no idea if it worked. He honestly had no idea how any of this worked. Claudia seemed to have a better grasp and understanding of all of this, as he’d expect, but she had always been tight lipped about…. Weird shit. But soon Derek was back, and Stiles’ footsteps were rapidly approaching the stairs, so thankfully they didn’t have to dwell on it too long. However by the time Stiles had even just reached the landing, Scott was groaning uncomfortably and stepping backwards as Stiles approached, grabbing his nose.

“Oh, god! You reek of blood!! Is it gonna be that bad when my mom-?!” Scott whined frantically. Derek rolled his eyes.

“ Shut. Up. ” He demanded, interrupting Scott.

“It’s horrible! ” Scott continued anyway. Stiles seemed uncomfortable, but both ignored him for now.

“She’s an Alpha, Scott. Of course the smell is more pungent. You’re 16 , I can’t believe you’re freaking out about this.”

“Do I really smell that bad?” Stiles said, seeming a bit relieved they were talking about Claire’s smell rather than… his .

“More bad, it’s so fucking bad, I don’t even want to be near you…” Scott insisted. Derek elbowed him roughly in the ribs.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve showered again.” Stiles asked embarrassedly, looking at Derek.

“I have two sisters, and my mom was alpha before my sister. It’s not a big deal, Scott’s just being a baby about it.”

“It’s my first time smelling period blood in Hi-Def and surround sound, sue me !! ” Scott argued. Stiles rolled his eyes, apparently taking Derek’s comfort to heart instead of Scott’s complaining.

“Well at least now, when your mom gets hers it won’t be anything compared to this.” Stiles said cheerfully. “Now are we gonna lay my dad to rest- New Grandpa Bless Him- or are we gonna keep arguing about…. This?” Scott shuffled his feet a bit.

“Yeah….” He muttered, looking a bit guilty. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Scotty, I’m fine, just wanna get it over with…” Stiles reassured like he often did when he made Scott feel bad- intentional, deserved, or neither. “Let’s go.” He implored, slipping away before either of them could confront him about his obvious nervousness. The two conspired for just a moment to give each other a worried look before following him out to the backyard. Claudia was laughing as Dean was getting frustrated with the fire, or lack thereof. Jacob seemed to find it almost as funny as she did, helping a bit with keeping it from lighting. Annalise watched them with a strained smile, trying to take the whole thing as lightly as they were, but obviously not succeeding. Rourke didn’t seem very concerned for John’s fate, or too amused by the pranks, choosing to take a nap in the grass rather than bother having anything to do with the entire affair. Both he and Annalise had been cremated, unlike her however, Rourke claimed he was sure Claudia was right and “these idiots don’t know the fuck they’re talking about”, because he didn’t have anything that would’ve resulted in an attachment. Annalise was a 15 year old girl, and she’s died almost 10 years ago. She hardly remembered being alive, so of course she had things she could’ve been attached to, but she couldn’t for the life of her imagine what it would be, or if her parents would still have it. John nodded to his wife.

“Clau, let’s get this over with.” He sighed nervously. Claudia shrugged, and the fire flared suddenly, making Dean fall back to avoid it’s heat. Only Claudia laughed at that one. Jacob’s hands flew over his mouth in shock.

“Stooop!!” He whined at Claudia, stomping his little foot, making the ground and the fire pit shake, just slightly.“You’re gonna get us in trouble!!” Claudia kept laughing but nodded.

“Right!! Really, really, you’re right, Jake, I’ll behave…” She finally got control of her giggles, as Derek handed the bottle to Stiles, whispering in his ear, John assumed consoling him, though they soon heard what was being said as Stiles did.

“I know this is hard… We’re here for you, Stiles.” Derek kissed Stiles’ cheek before moving a bit away, though keeping an arm around him.

“If you’ve got anything to say, now’s the time…” Sam reminded, voice as sympathetic as the pitying look he was giving. Stiles nodded, gripping the bottle tight, in a way that hurt John in his heart.

“Well, if he’s been around all this time, he’s…. He’s heard it all…. Sorry for dragging you around even longer… I hope you move on alright…. And I hope you find mom…. And I hope you guys can be together and happy….” That made Claudia smile in a way that John couldn’t bring himself to right now.

“We already are, baby….” Claudia cooed softly, warmly. Lucifer glanced to her in recognition, before looking back to the fire, as Stiles tossed the bottle in, hesitating just a second. John closed his eyes. Once he had he was afraid to open them. How would he know if he’d passed, how long would it take? As long as he stood there, nothing felt different. “See? I told you guys.” He heard his wife’s voice say, and he let out a sigh of relief he didn’t know he was holding, opening his eyes and looking around at everyone.

“Did it work?” Stiles asked his hunter guardians. Dean looked to Cas, who also didn’t seem sure. Dean shrugged.

“Usually something happens, but sometimes it doesn’t… We’ll see eventually.” He said, sounding disappointed that he couldn’t give Stiles a straight answer. John sighed before turning to Lucifer.

“Tell them we’re here…” Claudia gave him a surprised look.

“About all of us? Are you sure??”

“What’s it going to hurt now? We know they can’t get rid of us. He deserves to know. At least that we’re here, and all we want is to protect him, so he doesn’t have to be worried for us, be afraid of us… We have to stop hiding these things from him eventually, Clau…” He explained insistently. Claudia sighed.

“Is everyone okay with that…?” Lucifer asked under his breath, earning questioning looks from the other living, besides Crowley, who could also see them. Jacob and Annalise looked to each other, nodded. Rourke sighed.

“Fine!” He called, not bothering to move from where he was.

“Luc, who you talking to?” Dean asked suspectingly.

“All of them. They want me to tell you they’re here.” Lucifer answered seeming tense.

“You can see them? And you didn’t think to tell us?” Sam asked, not sounding mad, thank goodness. John assumed Lucifer would never forgive them if he ended up in the dog house because of this.

“They worried you might get rid of them if it came out they were there. Since it seems that’s not a concern, they’re figuring it’s best to be up front.” Crowley explained, taking some of the blame for Lucifer.

“ You can see them?” Cas asked, almost offended.

“King of Hell, former King of the Crossroads.” Crowley answered, rolling his eyes. “If I wasn’t well trained to see human spirits, I’d be shit at my job, wouldn’t I, Sparkles?”

“Wait.” Stiles demanded, shaking his head in confusion. “Who’s ‘all of them’? Who all’s here??” Lucifer looked John in the eyes, making sure he was sure about this. John nodded.

“Your dad’s there. Your mother was the one messing with with the fire-”

“What the fuck? Dick move, lady!” Dean barked in an offended voice.

“Shh!” Stiles shushed Dean loudly, not bothering to reprimand Dean for the insult. To be fair it was a dick move, and most everyone who knew Clau expected as much from her. Claudia actually gave a bit of a chuckle. Stiles though was quick to turn his attentive eyes and ears back to Lucifer. “Who else?” Lucifer nodded looking to the others.

“There’s a young boy, named Jacob. He seems nice though a bit rambunctious-”

“What does he look like?” Stiles snapped, not angry or anything of the sort, but insistent.

“He looks about 7 years old, he’s wearing a green t-ball shirt, tan cargo shorts....-”

“And?” Stiles insisted frantically, assuming there was more. Jacob gave a solemn almost guilty look. The kid would’ve been an adult by now, he was a lot more mature than any of them gave him credit for.

“And, there’s a lump in his neck... from broken, misaligned vertebrae…. Then there’s the girl, the one Claire saw last night…”

“What does she look like…” Stiles not quite “asked”. It became more of a demand, as he became more and more distressed with the situation, but Lucifer didn’t seem to hold it against him.

“She’s around your age, long auburn brown hair, wearing jeans and a grey hoodie, her clothes are ripped all over and bloody from wounds and broken bones…” Lucifer looked to Anna. “On one side of her face her jaw bone and teeth are visible, and she has a hard time speaking, but the others call her Anna.” The rest of the group seemed as tense Scott and Stiles seemed to be the only one’s who knew exactly what all this referred to. Derek cut in, explaining to the others what little he might know.

“Anna Barros…? She was in my grade, she died in a car accident when we were in middle school. It was all over the news when it happened...”

“It wasn’t a ‘car accident’...” Stiles corrected dully, voice hoarse from the lump in his throat. “She got ran over, some asshole going 50 in a 35… Her hood caught on the broken muffler, dragged her 25 feet down the road.... Took her 11 minutes and 35 seconds for her to succumb to her injuries, 14 for the ambulance to get there…” They all looked at him. John put his hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It wasn’t your fault, Stiles…” Anna croaked sympathetically.

“She was my babysitter…” Stiles explained, almost as if he had heard her. “We were walking to the mexican place on 3rd, because I didn’t want to eat grilled cheese again… I didn’t look before crossing…” Everyone was quiet. Scott touched his hand to Stiles’, but Stiles didn’t take it.

“She says it wasn’t your fault…” Lucifer offered, as comfortingly as he probably could. Stiles didn’t respond with anything more than the shake of his head.

“Is there another??” Stiles asked, mostly to change the subject.

“Another officer,” Lucifer nodded looking over at Rourke. “Short brown hair, wearing a uniform like your dad’s, but the jacket’s brown instead of green. Name is apparently Jim Rourke. No visible injuries. Swears a lot, kind of annoying, apparently, and he doesn’t like him ,” Lucifer gestured to Derek. “So, so far he’s my favorite after your mother.” Rourke scoffed, still not moving from his spot.

“Thanks! I always knew the devil would like me.”

“Wait, me? Why wouldn’t he like me? What did I do??” Derek asked, seeming to take offense.

“Oh, do you wanna fucking LIST?” Rourke yelled suddenly, as he finally sat up. “Firstly, your mother was a cunt, tried to get me fired THREE FUCKIN’ TIMES for ticketing your pretentious snobby ass crazy ‘Wrong Turn’ hellspawn family!!” Anna covered Jacob’s ears, as Rourke got up and started pacing over to where everyone else had been. “How hard is it to not park in front of a fucking fire hydrant? Or in a fire lane? Or disability parking when you’re not fucking disabled?! ” Rourke ranted, coming over to direct his complaints toward Derek, standing in front of him, even though he obviously couldn’t hear or see him. However Jim did keep the presence of mind enough not to get too close to Derek. Jim probably thought John would assume Jim might get physical if he got to close when he was so worked up. Not to mention Juliet was attentively growling like rumbling thunder, watching Jim like a hawk. “Not to mention all the times you fucking gave me shit for telling you and your shitty little douchebag fucking friends not to loiter in the halls after school?! Just because you own the town does not mean you can use public property as a fucking clubhouse!! I got suspended without pay for TWO FUCKNG WEEKS, because of your shitty little ‘he’s got a vendetta against us’ complaint!! Went back, got put on bullshit woods patrol, and now HERE I AM! Dead as a fuckin’ door stop! And now you wanna walk into town with your leather jacket and your shiny little car, and your ‘I went to harvard’ attitude, and fuck around with the kid I’m playin’ guardian fuckin’ angel for, and I’ve gotta keep your ass from getting shot in the face when you’re an asshole to some other rich fucking douchebag who already tried to kill you?! Fuck you and your ‘what did I do’ shit, you’re a fucking asshole, and you’ve always been a fucking asshole, and 90% of your family were fucking assholes too, that’s what you fucking did!!” Lucifer blinked a few times, before turning to Derek.

“That entire time was him yelling. You really want me to repeat all that right now ?”

“Please FUCKING DO!!” Rourke yelled, finally walking away again, putting everyone who could see him a bit more at ease. Derek gaped at Lucifer in pure confusion.

“I literally haven’t been in this town since I was a teenager, how much shit can this guy seriously holding a grudge for??”

“ I’M DEAD, BITCH, I’LL BE PETTY IF- I- FUCKING- WANT TO. ” Rourke yelled back, again at Derek. Lucifer gave a small snort of choked laughter.

“He said, ‘I’m dead, bitch, I’ll be petty if I fucking want to.’... I love it, he’s great.” Rourke dramatically bowed in thanks before falling back onto the grass to continue his relaxation. Stiles gave Derek a comforting nudge as Cas shook his head.

“We’ll talk about it later...  You three should - erm, four , sorry Juliet- should get going before you’re late.” Cas suggested, and Dean nodded in agreement.

“You guys are staying for dinner when you get back, yeah??”

“I told you already, Dean, we don’t know for sure. Maybe.” Stiles grumbled, tiredly. John kicked at a weed in the grass. Stiles didn’t deserve this kind of stress. Scott shrugged.

“Well mom’s working the night shift, so I’ll probably stay over if it’s alright.”

“Of course, Scott.” Cas smiled, patting Scott on the shoulder as he made his way back toward the house. “You’re always welcome here.” Scott looked to Stiles with his big puppy dog eyes as Cas left back to the house, and Dean put the cover over the fire to slowly suffocate it. Stiles shook his head, dismissing Scott’s concern as he wrapped an arm around Scott’s neck and pulled him close. Stiles always tried so hard to not let Scott see him suffering. John worried it wasn’t healthy, but what could he say? Especially now.

“ Maybe , if you stop stealing the covers…” Stiles muttered with a half hearted smile.

Chapter Text

Stiles would admit he was a little caught up in his own head, despite trying to stare out the window as they drove, zoning out, mutter along to the sweet lyrical pleasantries of Gasoline as they drove down through the woods. The situation was undeniably beyond stressful… and concerning… and triggering… and freshly traumatizing all on it's own. And to top it off, disturbing, given he'd dreamt about those three, only to find out… this. It was… a lot. He was pulled out of it way too suddenly as the car jerked to a slower pace, and Derek cursed as he sped back up to the speed limit. “What's wrong, what happened?” Stiles asked. Way too worriedly, he noted, telling himself to chill.

“Uh…” Derek looked to his now just mildly curious expression. “It's nothing. Saw Anna in the backseat with the rear view. Just startled me a bit. No big deal.” He insisted looking back at the road. Stiles sighed softly, trying not to dwell on it, but…

“Sorry… “ He said, quickly focusing back on the stereo. “ With your face all made up, livin’ on a screen, low on self-esteem so you run on gasoline,” He paused for the ohs. “ I think there's a flaw in my code…” Again for the whoa-waah-oh-oh. “ These voices won't leave me alone… ” Derek’s fingers suddenly brushed the back of his hand and he snapped to attention. “Sorry, yeah?” He muttered on reflex, focusing his vision on Derek, who was glancing between him and the road.

“Just seeing if you wanted me to switch over to some Halsey?” Derek asked, completely serious, voice gentle and thoughtful, and a little sympathetic. Stiles shook his head, brows furrowed.

“Switch over?” He questioned vaguely, worried he knew exactly what Derek was saying. He focused on the stereo not waiting for Derek’s explanation.

“Yeah? You were muttering a halsey song so I thought you might wanna listen to that instead…” Derek answered, obviously confused. Stiles tuned his ears, listening for what he should be hearing instead of what his head apparently wanted him to hear. And then the noise around him was suddenly some indie station or playlist, playing smooth, poppy, rockish songs, the kind Stiles could never put his finger on the genre, whatever the inverse of “alternative” would be. What was worse was now he felt as if it had been what he was hearing the entire time. Even though he knew it had been Gasoline , the small screen for the radio had said as much right in front of his eyes just a second ago. But now it just said “AUX input Playing”, and Stiles heard the cooing of an acoustic guitar echoing through his ears instead of the demure lilt of Halsey’s deep serenades. Stiles tried not to freak out externally as his brain pulled the fire alarm of reality being broken and the world being a lie. Tried to tell himself it wasn’t a big deal. He knew what hallucinating was. He knew he was fine. He smiled at his boyfriend and shook his head.

“No, I’m good with this. I was just dissociating, must have had it stuck in my head from earlier.”

“Kay…” Derek nodded, looking back at the road. “You know if you wanna talk about… anything… we can, right? I’m- Scott and I are both happy to listen if you need to vent...” Stiles scoffed softly.

“Thanks, but what’s there really to vent about?? Bunch of ghosts following me around, two of whom I definitely caused the deaths of-”

“ Stiles… ” Derek interrupted curtly. “ No, you didn’t. ” Stiles wanted to believe that but, he knew better.

“Yeah, I did.”

“That’s not how death works, Stiles. People die when they’re meant to. No matter how they die, you’re not the cause.” Derek said. Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. He admired Derek’s sage approach but he didn’t have that wisdom in him. He hoped he never would.

“No…” He said. A thousand things he could say stirred in his head. Most of them violent, or vindictive, or vengeful. Some even lashing out. He picked one of the few that hurt no one but himself. “Not around me they don’t.” He didn’t look over, he knew Derek was giving him a pitying look he really didn’t deserve. Scott probably had one 10 folds, but at this point he knew better than to argue with Stiles about this. “It’s not some tragic bullshit tearing me up inside, you don’t have to try and cheer me up. I’ve made my peace with it. People die. I’ve watched it happen too many times to give a damn anymore. I’m just stating a fact. Annie and Jake would be alive today if they’d never met me.” Derek didn’t respond for a second. Stiles guessed giving up on trying to change his mind about it.

“Who’s Jake?” He asked after a moment though, and Stiles stomach dropped. He blamed himself less for Jake than for Annie. But knowing now that he was stuck here, still the same as the day he died…. Not in some better place like everyone said when he died. Hell, when both of them died. That was fucking heartbreaking.

“Friend from when we were kids. I was 5, he was a couple years older. He was practically like an older brother to me and Scott for a bit there.”

“Three musketeers…” Scott muttered in commiseration. Stiles smiled back at him in recognition before continuing.

“We were all playing on the monkey bars or whatever, being reckless little hellions, as you do. We both fell. He landed first…. Then me… and then ‘crack’ ... We just landed wrong, and I landed on top of him and… it was just fuckin’ brutal… he thought-... He was gone just like that. Before his mom even made it over. She was… really good people. Never blamed us. Said if it hadn’t been Jacob it’d have been me, and he must’ve know that, or whatever… Their family moved out of town about a year after that, when she got pregnant again. Hope they’re doing okay…” Stiles realized he’d been rambling but he just kept talking until he could control the lump in his throat. “And Annie, she- she was great. We were close… So I’m not really surprised at all they’re… Haunting me… I guess. God, that’s fucking weird to think about.” Derek nodded in agreement.

“Do you remember... what’s-his-face? The grumpy deputy there?” Scott asked probingly.

“Nah.” Stiles answered, absolutely honest. He knew most of his dad’s deputies, but he’d never heard of this Rourke guy. “Don’t know a thing. I’ll have to look up his file when we get back.”

“Hey, what about your aunt??” Scott asked suddenly. Stiles turned to give him a confused look.

“.... What?”

“You know, the one who lives out East?”

“I know who you mean, Scott, what I don’t know is why the hell you’re bringing her up, of all people.”

“Well, isn’t she like… a witch or whatever?” Scott shrugged. “Maybe she’d know about what’s up with all the ghosts and stuff.”

“ Scott… ” Stiles put a dull scolding grind into his voice as he rolled his eyes. “For the last time, Hermits and witches are not the same thing.” At the very least, Derek seemed intrigued if his furrowed brows were anything to go by.

“I don’t wanna pry but… If you have adult family, why didn’t she take you in?” Derek asked, once Stiles stared at him for a minute.

“Ah…” Stiles winced a bit as he shifted in his seat and his jeans rubbed his thighs. He hoped it would just come off as him being uncomfortable about his estranged family. “My mom’s family is…. weird. My aunt Rosa’s the only person I know of, and I’ve never met her, we’ve only talked over the phone, and that was mostly limited to ‘Hey manito, causing trouble?’ and maybe her telling me stories occasionally. Honestly I don’t think if there’s even documentation that she’s legally family, she’s pretty off the grid. I’ve only talked to her a few times since mom died. I doubt anyone would’ve bothered to tell her about my dad.”

“She doesn’t know you’re an orphan?!” Derek whispered astonishedly. Stiles opened his mouth to reply ‘ she doesn’t really know much of anything about me ’ but Scott cut him off.

“I was just thinking, if Derek got his-... whatever- from his family, then what if-?”

“ Scott, no. ” Stiles deadpanned a bit more harsh than necessary, shoulders tensing and pulling his fist to rest between his knees. “It’s nothing like that, that’s insane.”

“ But-! ” Scott started, but Derek stopped him.

“I… think you should call her too.” He said carefully, putting his hand on Stiles knee. Stiles tried not to glare when he looked over. “But mostly just because I think it’s good to keep in touch with family.” Stiles gaze softened at that, he shook his head to give himself an excuse to look away.

“God, you’ve gotten good at that fast, haven’t you?” Stiles murmured, pointedly not in a bitter tone.

“At what?” Derek said sweetly, and completely unconvincingly.

“ Playing me like a fiddle .” Stiles clarified, smiling.

“Nah…” Derek insisted. “I’m terrible with a fiddle.” He smiled over as they pulled into the mostly empty parking lot. He looked over the maybe 5 cars present. “Think your friends are here yet?” Stiles shook his head as they pulled into a spot.

“I didn’t see Lydia’s car anywhere. Want me to call ‘em?” Derek and Scott shook their heads in sync without realizing it. Stiles felt his mouth twitch up, and his cheeks tingle as he smiled and pretended it was nothing.

“They should be here soon.” Scott said, already getting out to stretch his legs. Derek nodded in agreement, hopping out too.

“We can wait a bit.” He said, coming around to Stiles’ side of the car and opening his door, before Stiles even had a chance to protest. Stiles didn’t get out, holding up Derek’s phone still plugged into the AUX.

“You forgot to grab your phone, Romeo.” Stiles said, admittedly trying to defuse the tension as his cheeks started glowing a faint pink. Derek just leaned in, and scrolled on the phone still in Stiles hand with a clever little smile, before pushing play on some random cute sappy song out of the however many Derek had on this playlist, putting the phone down, and quickly turning up the volume on the stereo.

“No I didn’t.” He said, still smirking, knowing exactly what a charming little shit he was being as he took Stiles’ hand and pulled him out of the car. “One quick dance?” He asked, adorably Stiles cursed as Derek pulled him into a wrapped embrace as the music wisped whimsically. Stiles had half a mind to pretend he couldn’t dance. But he didn’t. He just played along, step by step, ignoring Scott’s muttered complaints about them being sappy and gross. They hardly noticed as a neon blue prius pulled up beside them one parking spot over a couple minutes later.

Chapter Text

“You sure you don’t want me to help?” Sam asked, obviously hovering.

“Nah. If anything I’d have Cas help.”

“No, you wouldn’t, because Cas doesn’t approve of any of this.” Cas muttered from the other side of the table, going over school stuff. Dean rolled his eyes. “Hardly want you using my phone for it.”

“ Look , if you want me to, I can just call the guy from my phone.”

“Then I still have to give you the number.” Cas huffed.

“You’re really gonna tell me you’re not worried about this, Cas? This is weird .”

“Weird, perhaps. But we have no indication it’s dangerous. They seem to be agents of protection.”

“One hates his boyfriend with a burning passion!” Dean balked.

“ You hate his boyfriend with a burning passion.”

“I don’t hate his boyfriend, I know he’s a good kid, probably, I just--- I’m old fashioned, okay?” Dean sighed. Cas rolled his eyes.

“ Mortal, please…. ”

“I’m just saying, we’ve seen protective spirits get out of control before, and 5 out of control powerful spirits is not something I wanna deal with completely unprepared, when apparently burning doesn’t work, assuming Stiles wasn’t lying about his father not having any meaningful possessions.”

“Fine, fine!!” Cas insisted, waving dismissively. “I’m still not helping you invade our son’s privacy anymore than I already have.” Dean shook his head.

“Okay, sure, do you two mind if I make this call now or what?”

“Why are you calling this guy again??” Sam asked despite having not asked about it for a first time yet. “I mean I get he’s a teacher or whatever, and would’ve known the Stilinskis, but like… Melissa would probably know about all this a lot more, and you guys seem to be getting along with her really well…”

“Melissa’s working and her dinner break isn’t ‘til later, and besides, I’d rather not go to her not knowing shit, because if they were weird and she knew about it, she probably won’t be quick to talk about it. You don’t share that kind of shit if you don’t think the person can keep the secret.” Dean explained, going through Cas’ contacts. “Adrian’s just the first of many stops. First mostly just because he seems like the one least likely to rat on me to the kid or get suspicious about me asking.” Sam nodded understandingly as Dean hit the button to dial.

“Kay, well, you know where I am. Knock first this time.” Sam reminded before walking off. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Don’t fuck your stupid dickhead boyfriends in my-!” Dean stopped yelling as he heard the call picked up.

“Cas, hey, I was just reading the-” Adrian answered amicably.

“Uh, hey, man.” Dean cut off, much to Adrian’s sudden confused silence. “This is Dean actually.”

“Yeah, I assumed so, it’s fine. Um… What can I do for you, Dean?”

“Nothing much, I just remembered you said you had an ear if either of us wanted to talk about Stiles, so-”

“Is something wrong??” Adrian asked before Dean could explain.

“Oh, no, nothing like that- it’s just I’m worried he’s been having a hard time grieving and all and I didn’t wanna stir him up anymore asking him about… His parents...”

“His parents?”
“Yeah, I was just curious, y’know? I don’t wanna open old wounds but they were huge parts of his life and his purpose and now…”

“Yeah… I see what you mean… I mean, I’m happy to help, but I didn’t really know either of them particularly well.”

“I thought you knew his dad?”

“Well, yeah. Small town and all, I at least knew of them most if not all of my life, but Stiles’ dad and I pretty much hated each other, and… I didn’t know Claudia much more than anyone else in town.”

“Hate’s a pretty strong word.”

“Strong word for a strong feeling.”

“What inspired a feeling that strong?”

“Well on his end, I… did something really stupid when I was younger and… it ended up getting a lot of people hurt… Nothing illegal, but he knew about it, and after that decided to make my life a living hell.”

“And that’s why you hate him back?”

“That and how he used to treat Stiles.”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, a bit worried. He knew Stiles didn’t always have a great relationship with his dad, but he didn’t talk much about it. Claire had mentioned Stiles had dreamt of his dad yelling at him or something, but that was pretty much the most he knew about for certain.  However the way Stiles acted, carried himself, the ways he responded to being in trouble, it reminded him way too much of him and Sam, and Dean worried Adrian was implying what Dean had fear all this time to be the case. Adrian seemed hesitant though.

“How much has Stiles told you about it?”

“Himself? Next to nothing. He… I think he… likes to block it out, remember his dad at his best, not his worst. But I’ve seen that look he gets. How bad was it?”

“God…” Adrian scoffed a pained cynical scoff. “Hell if I know. But… from what I could tell, pretty damn bad.” Dean could hear the sigh through the phone and looked up to find Cas watching attentively, with that pitying look of his. “Dean, I can’t tell you how gut wrenching it is to have a student, who’s supposed to trust you, who you’re supposed to be a safe place for-” Adrian sighed again breath broken and shakey this time. “.... Some days he would flinch if I so much as put a paper on his desk. God forbid he knock something off my desk he’d have a fucking break down. He didn’t usually have bruises, at least not anywhere visible but… I- I knew how Noah could be- and I was inexperienced with such situations… so I reported it.” Adrian said bitterly. Dean nodded.

“And he was the sheriff…”

“Yep!” Adrian breathed out tenderly, with a cynical chuckle. “Bastard didn’t even show up. The department just sent my record- DUIs, parking tickets, disorderly conducts; most courtesy of Noah- and before I knew it I was threatened that I’d be fired if I ever “made such an unsubstantiated claim” again with a heavy implication I’d never work as a teacher again…. So like the coward I am… I let it go.”

“It wasn’t your fault, kid.” Dean offered sympathetically, annoyance threatening to give him a headache. “You’ve got family to worry about, too. You scared him straight at least, didn’t you?”

“No… It got worse before it got better, and after that was pretty much when Stiles took up his current attitude towards me. And because of the school’s gag order, I couldn’t even ask him about it, or apologize, or offer to help.” Adrian was quiet for a second. “I don’t know what got the sheriff back on the straight and narrow, whatever it was, I’m glad it did.” Adrian said pretty finally, so Dean took the cue to turn the conversation in a different direction.

“What about his mom??”

“Claudia?” Adrian confirmed, sounding almost surprised.

“Yeah, I mean I know she passed before you were his teacher, but small town and all…”

“Oh, yeah, no. Everyone knew Claudia. She practically ran this town, between her volunteer work and having everyone in town pretty much in her pocket.- Erm... “ Adrian laughed a bit more genuinely. “That sounds more sinister than I meant it. Claudia was from what I could tell, one of the best kind of people. Very sweet woman, smart, sense of humor, beautiful, you name it.”

“Even when she was younger?” Dean asked, knowing Stiles had mentioned that Claudia had grown up in Beacon Hills. But there was a confused silence in return.

“Uh, actually- it’s weird. I’m pretty sure Claudia had an aunt in town or something, because everyone talked about it? But she didn’t… really grow up around here. And her aunt must’ve moved or something…”

“Must have? You never met her?”

“No, Just, people would tell her how much she reminded them of her aunt. Grandmother too, now that I think of it. I guess her mother must’ve moved when she was a kid, because first I heard of her was when she started dating Noah in High School.”

“She transferred in High School?”

“What? No. Claudia was like twenty something?- Ha.. guess that runs in the family.” Dean faked a laugh as he thought about what Adrian had just said. That didn’t make any fucking sense. Stiles’ adoption records stated his parents had been the same age. Claudia Stilinski had died at 32, 6 years ago, Noah John Stilinski at about 37-38, just earlier this year.

“They had Stiles when Stilinski was in high school? That’s creepy…” Dean answered figuring he’d let Adrian figure it out himself, maybe correct his mistake.

“W-What? No... Why would you think that??”

“Well, Claudia died at 32, didn’t she? When Stiles was 10? That’s what the paperwork said, anyway…”

“No, no. Whatever paperwork you got must’ve been a mistake.” Adrian insisted. Or forged, Dean assumed. “Claudia was older than Noah, it was a pretty big deal when we were in school. And by the time I was in school with them he was 18 so it must’ve been a pretty noticeable gap if people were still harping on it.”

“Huh,” Dean nodded writing ‘falsified med records?’ on his notepad. “That’s really weird. You’re right must be a typo then…” Dean was confused. This didn’t even explain her untimely death. A few years older was nothing in the scheme of things. He was about to ask another question when Adrian started talking to someone off the phone, Dean assumed Adrian’s little brother he’d mentioned to Cas.

“Yeah?-- Okay, I’ll come up in just a minute.-- I know, I’m on a call with a friend though, I just need a moment, Matt.” Adrian’s voice was a bit stressed but patient, only sighing once he came back. “Sorry to cut this short, Dean, duty calls. I can call back if you need anything else?”

“Nah.” Dean shook his head. “This was a good chat, thanks for your insight, good luck with the kid.”

“Oh,” Adrian laughed. “Wifi out and math homework, no big deal. It was nice talking to you, tell Cas I said hi, remind Stiles to his study chem notes. And um, please don’t tell anyone I talked to you about this stuff.”

“Of course, my lips are sealed, man. See ya.” Once Adrian returned the gesture, Dean hung up. Dean slid the phone to Cas across the table, and Cas set it aside.

“Anything?” Cas asked, looking away from his work.

“Nothing much. Dad was apparently a bit of a dick. Least for a while. Nothing to indicate he was involved in anything weird. Mom, however, was lying about her age by at least 2 years, probably more; is from here, but didn’t grow up here, and her family who lived in town moved away at some point prior to her moving here… And she was apparently was a pillar of the community and beloved by everyone in town.”

“Then safe to say whoever broke in and attacked Stiles, they weren’t locals…. You don’t try to kill the child of a beloved pillar of the community.” Cas suggested. Dean shrugged.

“Could’ve been someone on the Sheriff’s shit list. Seems he was certainly not loved by all.”

“Acquainted with John, but not with Claudia perhaps. That would most likely suggest a younger assailant though. Stiles said the younger of the two even looked to be in her 30s.”

“Out of towners or newbies it is then.”

“Hired isn’t out of the question.”

“Who’d hire hitmen to take out a teenager ?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to kill said teenager themselves?” Cas said, going back to his work, signalling he was done devoting his time to this.

“Kay, who should I hit up next? Chris or Alan?”

“I trust Dr. Deaton much more to not murder our son if he catches on…”

“Cas, Chris isn’t like that…” Dean was surprised Cas would think he was.

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve yet to be introduced.” Cas said, slowly and tactilely. Dean rolled his eyes.

“We’ll have a barbeque some time. I can call Chris; Alan I’ll probably get more info if I go to see him in person.”

“If you know the smarter choice, why ask me, Dean? That insistent on dragging me into this?”

“No, angel , just value your feedback.”

“Chris is a busy man, I suppose you should call him first. Just don’t show too much of your hand, for Stiles sake.” Dean decided not to argue, just nodded his agreement, quickly navigating to Chris’ number and dialing. The call picked up but sounded like it was on speaker.

“Winchester, good to hear from you. What kind of trouble you getting into?”

“The keeping busy kind. Figured I'd do some personal research while- supposedly- on break from hunting. Remembered you used to live in Beacon, thought you might have some insight. You busy?” Dean waited for Chris’ response, it took a moment before he spoke.

“Not at all. Just about to pick up some milk and head home for the night. You've got me as long as you need.”

“I was just wondering if you knew John and Claudia?” Chris didn’t speak when Dean paused as if waiting for more information. “Stilinski.” Dean clarified.

“Oh.” Chris said, as if suddenly understanding. “Stiles’ parents, I take it?”

“And I take it that’s a no?” Dean tried to temper his disappointment.

“No, not really. Might’ve seen them around, but we lived outside city limits then, would come into town occasionally when needed. Allison was in a different school district, so we didn’t really get the small town treatment much.” Chris explained. Dean nodded, but after a moment Chris continued. “Uh, Claudia- nut brown hair, pale but a bit tan in complection, same yellowish brown eyes as Stiles, stood about 5’3-5’5?” Dean pulled his laptop over and looked up a picture of Stiles’ mom, making sure it was the same woman he’d seen a few times in the picture Stiles kept on his desk.

“And a smile for days? Yep, sounds like her, least from what I’ve seen.”

“Right, I…. met her... Once or twice.”

“How well you know her?”

“We had a... mutual friend, so we hung out often enough. We didn’t get particularly chummy about it, but she seemed nice enough. Doubt I would know whatever you wanna ask about.”

“Just trying to get a general character reference. Mind me asking who the friend was?”

“Um…” Chris seemed to hesitate. Dean wondered if he should push Chris on it if it was that tough to talk about. After a minute though Chris sighed. “If… you promise this doesn’t go beyond us. I don’t know who all knows about this, but the only people I’ve told are Victoria and Kate. It could be issues if any of my other... colleagues found out.”

“This is just a family thing, Chris, not interested in telling anybody anything. Swear.”

“The friend…. was….” Chris took a deep breath. “Peter… Hale…” Dean felt a drop in the pit of his stomach, as if he’d swallowed a cobblestone. A combination of horror and disappointment made his bile turn in his stomach.

“Chris, tell me you didn’t-”

“I would never have anything to do with a bloodbath like that, Dean, you know that. Hell, if we had had anything to do with that, I’d have-... I- I wouldn’t be here... I didn’t know anything about it, Dean…” Dean believed him. Chris’ voice was overflowing with emotion, and though he couldn’t seem to pick which was foremost, none of them seemed positive in the least. “That was over 20 years ago now… Long time before-.... Before. ” Chris sounded so… mournful. He’d always been a pretty solemn kind of guy, but Dean had never heard him sound like this.

“He knew Claudia Stilinski?” Dean asked, deciding it was best to change the subject.

“Yeah,” Chris said, obviously trying to compose himself. “Though her last name was something Spanish back then, from what I remember.”

“Spanish? She an immigrant?”

“No clue, could’ve been. Hales had a bit of spanish in the family, Peter had a lot of friends who were at least of hispanic descent.”

“Possible she was family?” Dean asked, earning a pointed kick from Cas, and Dean assumed a glare. He didn’t look over to check.

“I… doubt it? Could’ve been, but- Um, yeah no, probably not.” Chris’ tone took on a slightly weirded out vibe, and Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Why’d’ya say that?”

“Uh… Her and Peter seemed… more affectionate than family. I mean, he was a flirt, and I know how old families can sometimes be, especially supernaturals… they just didn’t give me that vibe. I’m pretty sure they used to date or something. I dunno, didn’t wanna pry.” Chris pointedly took a breath before continuing, as if he needed a second to ponder something. “Although now that I think about it, she might’ve been a family friend, since Talia didn’t seem to have an issue with her being around. Peter always said she wasn’t big on... ‘fraternizing’ with humans aside from... family.” Chris scoffed. “Now that I think about it, he might have just said that because it was less offensive than ‘she wants to break your face because you hunt us for a living’...” Yeah, that seemed a fair alternative conclusion…

“Wait. So, guy you dated was kissing up this girl? How old was she?” Dean didn’t want to be rude, but it seemed the most natural way to slip in a question about her age.

“22, maybe 23? She wasn’t much younger than Peter, and he was around my age. They might’ve gone to school together? She seemed like she could’ve been an artsy type. Sister had tattoos and was naked all the time so…”

“Wait. Claudia had a sister?” Dean asked, more concerned at the moment with Stiles having an aunt they didn’t know about than her apparently being 7+ years older than they thought she was.

“Yeah, has as far as I knew. Older, but around the same age. She was pretty cool. Threatened me with a knife once. Pretty sure she liked me more than Claudia did though. Also pretty sure she’s kind of stalking my family, because she’s been sending us christmas cards for like…. 15 years… Never a return address. It’s... kinda weird. But thoughtful, I guess.”

“Doubly weird because I literally had no idea Stiles had... any family… Chick’s not on any of the paperwork…”

“Well,” Chris chuckled. “Expect a non-denominational christmas card.”

“One thing to look forward to I guess….” Dean muttered, looking through the resources he had out, looking for the paper on the Hale fire. Peter… “Peter Hale, he and his niece were the only survivors, weren’t they? You two aren’t in touch?” Dean asked, thankful the dude wasn’t dead. But Chris gave a heavy sigh.

“His niece, yeah… But Peter survived in the… barest most miserable sense of the word.”

“You sure? If he lived, he should’ve healed, shouldn’t he? I mean even most humans born in pack I’ve met have some healing factor.”

“He was a wolf… but…-” Chris paused, Dean heard a swallow and a shaky breath over the phone.
“Chris,” Dean sighed, looking at the table. “We don’t have to talk about this if it’s hard to talk about.”

“I’m fine, Dean…” Chris reassured, apparently finding his composure. “Peter protected his niece from the flames. She was fine, ‘minimal injuries’ by the time they found them. But Peter was so badly burned he had brain damage. From what I understand, it stunted his healing factor. He’s healed since, but…. From what I heard there’s no sign he’ll ever be responsive. He’s… basically a living corpse.” Chris said in as stoic a tone he could manage. But Dean knew Chris, how he was. Chris had a hard time not going head over heels over even just a foxhole. That’s the main reason the two of them were still friends- they were both a couple of needy romantic sluts just trying to not get attached. Dean had always wondered where Chris had got his brooding tendencies. But now that he’d found out he was sorry he’d asked.

“Chris, I’m sorry….”

“It’s fine…” Chris’ shaky sigh belied his words. “I’ll be fine.”

“You need a shoulder to cry on, I’ve got you, okay?” Dean said, shifting the phone around to his other ear.

“Yeah…” Chris relented.

“Remember that.” Dean insisted.

“I will.” Chris confirmed with promise. “I should hurry up. Before I go- I assume the kids still went out bowling?”

“Yeah. Were they not supposed to?”

“Told Allison she needed to stay in, have them come over. Absolutely shocked she didn’t comply.” He laughed. Dean scoffed.

“Teenagers.”

Chapter Text

“You two do know you’re 100% that disgustingly adorable couple everyone rolls their eyes at right?” Stiles jumped as Lydia spoke from the parking spot next to them. Derek hid a laugh under a smile as Lydia turned off the car, Allison already hopping out of the car to come greet them. “It’s important to me that you both know that.”

“We absolutely know, and we revel in it.” Stiles answered rolling his eyes. Derek hugged Allison in greeting, ignoring how acutely aware of how awkward it was and how involuntarily conscious he was of both of their chests, because it felt comfortable and safe, like it always did when he hugged people like himself. Even if she was an Argent. Allison and Stiles then did that thing that’s part handshake, part high five, and part hug just for a second, hands still together, as Scott stumbled around the end of the car trying to come greet her as quickly as he could. By the time Scott made it over, Jackson and Lydia were out of the car and greeting the two of them. Lydia kissed Stiles’ cheek, and Jackson offered him a friendly fist bump as he did. As Stiles and Lydia exchanged pleasantries, Jackson offered the same kind of handshake-high five Stiles and Allison had done, minus the hug of course, once Derek had reached in to shut the car off, putting his keys and his phone in his pocket.

“Hey, sup.” Jackson offered him warmly.

“Not much really. You?” Derek offered in term, not really… Look he didn’t hang out with straight guys very often, and he wasn’t assuming Jackson was, he just… didn’t know that he wasn’t and Jackson certainly came off as your Typical Straight Dudebro kind of guy, though a bit more Country Club. Derek was just trying his damnedest to speak a language he didn’t know, and he wasn’t gonna pretend it wasn’t awkward as shit, but Jackson seemed chill about it.

“Oh you know, trying not to shoot myself listening to Boys for the 700th time.” Jackson answered seemingly jokingly. Derek tried to discern whether that was a “Hey I’m queer” joke, or a “No Homo” joke.

“Oh, please.” Lydia cut in, rolling her eyes. “You love that song, you lying bitch.”

“Uh, I liked the first 500 times….” He answered, with a laugh.

“You’re already sick of it? Why didn’t you tell me?” Lydia said hiding a pout under her poker face. Derek had no idea how she could consider 700 (most likely hyperbolic) times “already”.

“Because, babe, if there’s one thing I envy about you it’s your ability to hold an interest for more than 5 minutes, obsessed or not.” Jackson said in an admiring tone, giving Lydia a side hug. Lydia gave a faint hint of a smile but her voice didn’t have much inflection.

“Hm… Thank you….” She offered very shortly.

“Hey, you love birds ready to go in or what?” Jackson asked Scott and Allison, still talking amongst themselves right up until Jackson interrupted them.

“Um, yeah…” Scott answered pretty obviously trying to act not annoyed.

“Sweet, let’s go then, I’m sweating my ass off out here.” Jackson lead Lydia toward the door over at the middle of the long building they were parked at the end of. Allison followed after them with a smile, pulling Scott along with her. Derek took Stiles hand but couldn’t really bring himself to pull them anywhere. For a second he realized he didn’t feel qualified to lead Stiles anywhere, literally or metaphorically. They stood for a half a second, both contemplating a bit, waiting for the other to make the first move, but after a second they just both decided to go of their own accord. It was awkward for a moment as they moved in tandem, both having intended to lead, but not being particularly surprised the other moved along with them. They’d done this before, on their last date, but they hadn’t thought about it then, and it felt odd to be that in sync with each other. But after a step or two it was comfortable again, practically resting against each other as they walked.

“Uh, just so you know, so you don’t think she just hates you or something, Lyd’s feeling kind of non-verbal today, so if she doesn’t talk or emote a lot, it’s just that.” Stiles informed in a hushed voice to him as they walked. “She’s kinda beat from acting normal all day at school, so I told her not to worry about it.” OH…. Oh….

“Oh, yeah, of course, no problem. Is she-?” He didn’t wanna pry but…. He kind of wanted to pry. Stiles nodded simply.

“Aspergers. Everyone pretty much knows, but she kinda makes it a point of pride to make it… less noticable, ya know?” Stiles offered, Derek assumed wanting to make clear it wasn’t a matter of gossip, just common knowledge Lydia was fine with him giving out.

“Yeah, I do… My little sister has ASD, actually.” He offered, thinking to himself Cora would probably really like these 5. Stiles seemed to have some kind of epiphany.

“Is your little sister’s name Kara or Cara or Korra or something??” Stiles asked suddenly. Derek was a bit surprised Stiles knew that, though he supposed he shouldn’t’ve been. Cora was their age, and it wasn’t like Derek kept her too hush hush, he just didn’t bring her up too much.

“Yeah, it is. Why?? You know each other?” Derek asked, assuming at this point he did.

“We all used to be in occupational therapy together in like second and third grade.” Stiles said enthusiastically giving a bit of a nod in confirmation. “We had a lot of kids who needed it, and the school figured it would be good to teach us socialization to do it in small groups instead of one on one or one on two. It was fun. She was really cool. Think we bit each other once though.”

“You bit each other?!” Derek couldn’t help but laugh. His exclamation got the attention of the others.

“Bit?” Allison asked, already amused that they were amused, smiling.

“Are you guys talking about that girl you bit when we did speech therapy?”

“Bit?” Lydia asked, a bit quieter than she usually was. “You say that as if they didn’t get into a fight and bite each other like, every week.”

“ Rude! ” Stiles scolded Lydia, but she just smirked as the rest of them laughed.

“Why am I at all surprised you’ve always been a complete weirdo?” Jackson asked Stiles.

“ Excuse you !” Stiles bawked. “As if you have any right to talk!!”

“I’m the pinnacle of normality.” Jackson said with a small air of sarcasm, as if he thought it was very obvious he was lying.

“You once threatened to tie me to the spinny thing and spin me until I vomited my intestines for calling you out on definitely not owning a unicorn!” Stiles argued.

“That’s completely normal behavior for any 6 year old.”

“You also tried to put a toad in my mouth because you said if I did faeries would come and abduct me and keep me as their pet.” Scott joined in.

“And you screamed like the little unadventurous baby you are.” Jackson insisted obnoxiously, discreetly smiling as everyone laughed at the ongoing nonsense.

“Oh, Shut up… ” Scott countered though finally seeming to actually be at least slightly in good fun.

“So, Scott,” Stiles said in a suspiciously suggesting tone, earning a confused look from Scott.  “What’d’ya think of Allison’s shirt??” Derek elbowed Stiles as Allison developed a self conscious blush. Thankfully, Scott smiled immediately, apparently not a complete idiot.

“I love it! It’s really really sparkly.” Scott said with genuine enthusiasm. Allison responded with a nervous relieved giggle.

“Um, thanks!! Stiles helped pick it out, actually... I couldn’t decide what would look alright, you know…?” She said, seemingly overjoyed to have reassurance it looked good on her. Scott gave a bit of an happy giggle himself.

“You shouldn’t worry too much, you’d look alright in anything… But it is really pretty…” Scott said sappily, with his big puppy dog eyes. Derek swore if Scott said ‘almost as pretty as you’ he’d kill him on the spot out of mercy. Granted, that was to some effect the line Stiles had used on him when they’d met each other at the store… but Stiles pulled off cringey desperation a bit better than Scott did. As it was Allison was already giddy from the flirting, which Derek was happy for.

“Thanks…” Her voice almost broke with delight. “That’s- That’s really sweet…” She sighed happily. “Suddenly really glad we didn’t change the plans.” Derek raised his eyebrows questioningly, giving a quick look to Stiles.

“Was there talk of changing plans we missed??” He asked, mostly meaning he and Scott by ‘we’. Stiles could have very well known about this, he figured.

“Uh, my dad was a bit worried about all of us going out with the cougar or whatever running around, so he told us to have you guys come over to hang out, but Lyd’s and I didn’t wanna put everyone out at the last minute, so….”

“You snuck out??” Stiles asked, shocked, being the last person having any right to judge.

“Didn’t you literally do the same thing like two weeks ago?” Allison called him out.

“Um…. That was….. Different.” Stiles tried, but then realized abruptly he couldn’t say why it was different. “Okay, it’s not different, but like…..” Stiles just gave a sour expression at Scott, Scott happily translating.

“Your dad is kind of…. absolutely terrifying.” Scott said as if he was being perfectly delicate. Allison just rolled her eyes.

“What are you two talking about?? My dad is the biggest softy in the world.” Allison argued with a laugh. Stiles had a relatable expression that Derek read as ‘repressing the urge to point out he tried to shoot me in the head for no discernable reason’.

“I- Ya know, he just has that reserved kind of demeanor that makes me feel like he’s gonna murder me and bury my body in the woods when I make him mad, so I honestly- personally- am floored by any description of him implying softness in any way, shape, or form. But hey, that’s just me! And maybe also kinda Scott.” Stiles explained trying to be diplomatic.

“Oh, definitely also kinda Scott, but I might be bias, because he probably does in fact want to kill me and bury my body in the woods.” Scott added. Allison seemed amusedly shocked. Derek just tried to stay out of it.

“What on earth makes my dad seem like the type to murder people and bury them in the woods??” Allison asked, seeming absolutely amused. Lydia and Jackson seemed to have gotten their shoes off easier than everyone else, as they were both gone, probably doing whatever next step they could manage without the rest of them. Probably picking a lane, or balls, or getting food. Honestly Derek was just distracting himself in looking around for them to get away from the conversation at hand.

“Well…” Scott said carefully, apparently realizing how much he was on thin ice.

“Let’s see.” Stiles said, taking the pressure off Scott. “Rich, white guy. Just the most guns. To old to f-”

“ Stiles .” Scott hissed, pushing Stiles as he tried get off his second shoe. Derek kept Stiles from stumbling too much.

“ What! ” Stiles snickered. “It’s true.” Derek figured it was safe enough to involve himself, as long as he didn’t reference Chris, since he wasn’t supposed to know him. If he didn’t say something soon, his silence would probably be noticed and interpreted as discomfort.

“Can confirm, not true. Young rich white guys with guns are just as scary, if not more so.” Allison at least laughed. He was glad the conversation wasn’t making her feel uncomfortable or attacked.

“Well, you guys are going to absolutely love him once you get to know him. He really is super nice…” Allison smiled at Stiles. “When he’s not getting soaked by his own sprinkler system.” Stiles sighed dramatically at the reminder, probably trying to attract attention away from Derek, which he greatly appreciated, not sure whether his discomfort was noticeable or not.

“You would not believe how pissed he was.”

“Honestly, he was probably less mad than he seemed. His bark is worse than his temper. And like I said, I’m sure he knows you might’ve saved his life.”

“His life?” Derek asked, trying to seem confused or at least curious.

“Rabid mountain lion? Probably gonna be scared off more by water shooting at it from every direction than a gunshot.” Allison explained. “It was his favorite pair of boots though, and they still haven’t dried out.”

“I’ll have to send him a gift basket.” Stiles shrugged, rubbing the back of his head with a half hearted chuckle as Jackson came back, carrying a bunch of bowling shoes.

“Hey slowpokes.” He greeted, with a bit of a smile. “We’re on aisle 10. Lyds guessed your shoe sizes. You can exchange ‘em at the counter if they aren’t right.”

“Did you pay for us all, you jackass?” Stiles asked in an affectionate manner.

“I wasn’t about to wait for you all so deal with it.” Jackson answered, passing each of them a pair.

“Thanks, man.” Scott offered as a subtle olive branch.

“That’s another gift basket.” Allison joked, choosing a middle ground between Stiles sarcastic aggression and Scott’s polite amiableness. Derek just gave a smile and a nod, picking up that Jackson was getting uncomfortable with the spotlight.

“It’s no problem.” He assured. “Hurry up with picking out your balls though. Lyds wants your bowling names pronto.”

“Bowling names?” Scott asked, obviously confused.

“Yes, McCall, bowling names. Pick carefully, they are legally binding, of course.” Jackson said after rolling his eyes.

“Legally…. Binding?” Scott asked looking to the three of them, not getting that Jackson was fucking with him.

“He’s joking.” Allison said dismissively, shaking her head.

“Yeah, it’s just fun names to put on the score sheet or screen.” Stiles assured. “They do get put on your driver’s licence though, so…”  Derek couldn’t help but breathe a snicker. Stiles gave his hand a bit of a squeeze in return.

“No they don’t…” Allison laughed as she noticed Scott even more confused. At this he glared at Stiles. He probably wanted to push or whack Stiles for messing with him, but too quickly was Allison pulling him away. “Come on, let’s go find some balls.” That had Jackson snickering, before nodding his own farewell.

“See you guys out there.” He said, giving a small salute and sauntering off. Derek picked up his shoes and put them in one of the little lockers the bowling alley had in their lobby/non bowling area, as Stiles did the same. He was going to speak, let Stiles know he was going to hit the concessions counter, but Stiles beat him to it.

“Hey, I just wanted to say again, thanks for coming and doing all this. I can’t tell you enough how much of a relief it is. Especially after today.” Stiles struggled to get out how he felt, seeming uncomfortable. Derek assumed either from going from jovial and joking to serious, or just to being emotionally vulnerable in such a public place. Stiles seemed like a very guarded person. It made Derek happy to know Stiles felt he could trust him with that vulnerability, and he appreciated how hard that probably was, being much the same way. There was of course a lot the two of them hadn’t discussed, Derek assumed just as much on Stiles’ side of things as his. But… Derek at least felt like he could tell Stiles those things,eventually. He just hadn’t gotten around to it. And he really hoped Stiles felt the same. If he didn’t yet, then Derek’s goal was to change that.

“It’s fine, babe.” He tried to say that as non-awkward as possible. As not used to pet names as Derek was, he could tell Stiles liked them. “It’s good to be out like this. Just spending time with you would absolutely be worth it, but Lydia, Jackson… Allison even. They seem like really good, fun people. I’m glad you’ve got them as friends.” Stiles gave a pensive look, but Derek took the chance to kiss his forehead. It pulled Stiles out of his head enough to at least get a smile and Derek smiled in return. “Come on…”

Chapter Text

Derek pulled Stiles by the hand. He was going to get a drink, but now didn’t seem a good time to leave Stiles alone to get tangled in his thoughts again, so he went with him over to the ball racks.

“So, um, what weight do you like?” Stiles asked, obviously trying to eat the silence as the both of them looked for a good fit for themselves. Derek smiled at Stiles’ fidgety nature.

“Depends. Usually a 15 or a 16.” Derek answered, casually, checking a couple balls.

“ What. ” Stiles deadpanned. Derek wouldn’t have known he was genuinely shocked if it wasn’t for the loud clack the ball down the way he was holding made when he dropped it back on the rack. Derek looked over concerned for a second something else was wrong. He didn’t know why else Stiles would be so shocked. He was around 180 after all.

“What?” He asked, when Stiles didn’t explain his reaction. Stiles shook his head. 

“Uh, what? Nothing. It’s nothing.” Stiles muttered, going back to looking for a ball, subtly taking a step to his right, closer to where Derek was. Derek rolled his eyes.

“ Stiles. ”

“Hm?” Stiles answered a bit high pitched,

“I’m twice your size. You don’t have to switch weights to impress me…”

“Ummmmmm….” Stiles gave a fake cough.

“What do you use? A 12? 10?” Derek tried to guess, just to reassure him he didn’t care. Stiles put the ball he was testing down just to stare at him with a skeptical look. “Seriously, do you think I’m going to judge? Just tell me what you usually use.” He insisted with a laugh.

“You know…. An 8….” Stiles finally said. Derek nodded. Sure it was a bit light, but for a teen with low muscle, who probably doesn’t bowl much, it wasn’t at all odd. It was probably too light for him, really but- “Occasionally... maybe a... 6...” Derek stared at Stiles, trying to discern if he was joking. Stiles just kept looking very intently for a ball.

“Babe, I don’t want you to take this as mocking in the slightest, but…. When was the last time you went bowling?”

“My dad and I went for my birthday….” Stiles sighed, looking up at the ceiling. Derek nodded, smiling, unable to help himself.

“ When you were….? ” Derek couldn’t help but snicker when Stiles glared over at him, mouth agape.

“Oh, now I’m definitely dumping you!” Stiles scoffed, giving a small laugh of his own, signifying he was probably joking. Or at least he hoped so.

“I’m sorry it’s fine it’s just- You know you’re supposed to use a ball that’s kinda hard to lift? So the weight knocks down the pins?” Stiles rolled his eyes, picking up a marbled blue ball, and rolling it from hand to hand, testing the feel. It reminded Derek of the marble he’d brought to Peter earlier that day.

“Yes, I know. I’ve gone at least twice a year since I could walk. Pretty sure my mom proposed here. It was our family thing. Well, this and chess. And shitty joints. Which is why light ball.” Stiles said, thankfully not sounding too annoyed. 

“And… how many strikes have you gotten?” Derek was always one to push his luck and he wasn’t about to change his ways now. Stiles glared dully at him again. “Just saying, it’s next to impossible to get a strike with a ball that light. Unless of course you have super strength.” Derek smiled over at Stiles. If Stiles tried to glare any more he’d have to shut his eyes. 

“ Well , we’ll see about that ...” Stiles grumbled. Derek gave one last chuckle before Stiles turned to go join the others, looking back to him a second to see if he was going to follow. Derek picked up the ball he’d chosen, following along, catching up to take Stiles’ hand. Stiles shot him a dirty look, but gave his hand a squeeze. As they both neared the lane, they heard a sharp, quick series of claps. Three if he counted right. When he looked over, it was Lydia, pointing at the set up screen. Derek gave a fake groan.

“I can’t think of a name.” He admitted. Stiles lit up.

“Oh, really? Mr. Bowling Expert doesn’t even have a bowling name?”

“Yeah, ha ha.” He rolled his eyes, smiling faintly. “You wanna help or not?”

“And you’re asking me ? Talk about poor life decisions.” Stiles laughed. Lydia clapped again, more hurriedly this time. “ Fine …. Derek Hall? Derek Ball? Derek Flail? Derek Fail .” Stiles listed off ideas rapid fire, with varying levels of enthusiasm, seemingly most proud of the last one. Derek gave him a dull ‘come on’ glare, not wanting to keep Lydia waiting too long. “ Sourwolf. ” Stiles teased. Derek rolled his eyes.

“What? The most clever man in town doesn’t have a single good name idea?”

“ Rude! ” Stiles huffed. “How about…… Sterek?”

“What??” Derek asked, not seeing what the hell that was supposed to mean.

“Strike+Derek, Ste-rek.” Stiles offered, seeming like he thought it was clever. Derek found it too cute to break his heart.

“He might not be willing to tell you that sucks, but I will…” Lydia interrupted.

“Uh……. Yeah, sucks dick because it’d great… ” Stiles argued back.

“Don’t feel bad, Stilinski, not all of us can be professionals. It was at least cute.” Jackson offered, smirking.

“I will smothe-” Stiles started to threaten, locking eyes with Jackson. Derek interrupted, knocking Stiles’ ball gently with his own to get his attention.

“I’ll 100% be Derek Fail if you’ll do Stink-linski. ”

“You absolute monster…” Stiles said, smiling. “Really??”

“Yeah, if you wanna. Could be cute.”

“Alright then, yeah…” Stiles agreed in a tone almost similar to Allison’s lovestruck giddiness, then took his hand from Derek’s and held it out between them. “I’ll put your ball on the return, you hit concessions?” Derek tried to smirk but it turned into a smile.

“You sure?” He said in the most endearing voice he could manage. Stiles seemed taken aback and offended by the sudden return to the teasing and Derek laughed again as he was glared down.

“That’s cute, you think I won’t fight you because you’re handsome and you’re the only guy that’s kissed me since seventh grade. That’s adorable, really .” Stiles said, struggling to sound unamused. Derek smiled purposely this time.

“ I know you are, but what am I ?” He joked in return, handing Stiles his bowling ball carefully, honestly a bit genuinely concerned if he could carry it. Stiles arm dipped a bit as he took on the weight, but he seemed to handle it fine as he walked towards the ball return. “I’m off. You want anything?” 

“Um…” Stiles contemplated, turning around as he walked. “Oh, yeah! A boyfriend who doesn’t torment me relentlessly and unfairly on my genuinely adorable and innovative quirks?” Yep, probably time to stop the teasing then. Fair enough.

“I’ll see what they have.” Derek assured.

Chapter Text

Jackson was laughing, already . Stiles couldn’t do much more than run his hand over his face to keep the headache at bay that was telling him to lecture Scott for lying about his bowling ability, but he figured the shame and mild teasing was punishment enough.

“ Jackson . Mind shutting up?” Allison huffed. Jackson, of course did not, but tried to tame his laughter at least a bit.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He paused to giggle. “I just keep flashing back to the words, ‘I’m a great bowler’.” Jackson said finally getting a few deep breaths without laughing, but getting Lydia to give a bit of a chortle rather than the slightly cruel amused smile she’d been sporting.

“Maybe he just… needs to warm up a little.” Allison said optimistically.

“ Or the kiddy bumpers?” Jackson suggested jokingly, like the asshole he was.

“Just, aim for the middle, Scotty.” Stiles tried to encourage, but most of the time he was any good felt like sheer luck, and honestly a small part of him felt like Scott deserved to suffer just a little.

“Aim for anything but the gutter and I’m sure you’ll at least do better .” Jackson seemed to at least somewhat mean that as consolement. However it ended up just sounding dickish.

“Just-” Allison sighed a bit. “Just let him concentrate.” Allison insisted. They both shut up, although Stiles was pretty sure Jackson had guessed well enough this wasn’t a matter of concentration. Just as they waited for Scott to roll, Derek plopped back down beside him, and something dropped into his lap. He looked down as Scott flung his ball, stupid butterflies kicking up in his stomach as he saw the bright red package of Skittles.

“You’re the best .” Stiles exclaimed in a hushed voice, and kissed Derek’s cheek, ignoring Jackson laughing again.

“So are we dating again?” Derek asked with a grin.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, thank you.”

“Welcome…” Derek murmured, a bit more loving than genuine. 

“Oh, g-… Great job, McCall...” Jackson reassured a bit sarcastically, as Lydia nudged him a bit. “You are a pro …” Jackson said lightheartedly. Derek, mistakenly, tried to help, as Scott rolled his eyes at Jackson, going back to sit down.

“Jackson’s right, Scott, that wasn’t bad, if you’d thrown a bit harder you might’ve gotten a strike.” Derek held up his palms defensively as Scott responded by glaring at him. “Just trying to help.”

“Honestly would rather get coached by my dad than you...” Scott tried to say with a limited amount of burning hatred in his voice, probably not wanting Derek to think it was ALL directed at him.

“I-” Derek tried to speak but, Stiles cut him off as his confused voice set him, Lydia, and Jackson all on edge immediately

“Uh, long story short, Scott’s dad was the worst.” Stiles explained. Derek seemed to take the hint that it was a subject to be otherwise avoided but Allison either didn’t get it or she let her curiosity take precedence.

“ Was ? What… happened to him? Did he die?” Allison asked, seeming to limit her worry as she realised what ‘the worst’ implied.

“Might’ve. He did go missing after Stilinski’s mom beat his ass that time he came to the school…” Jackson answered with a slight tone of admiration.

“He just left…” Scott said, quick and defensively, dropping the hint that they shouldn’t dwell on it. Jackson shook his head.

“ ‘Ight, fine. Just saying seeing her cold clock that asshole was like the best day of my life. I aspire to be that badass.” Jackson conceded despite not letting it go.

“Same…” Scott said, tone equal parts awkward and depressed.

“So uh…” Derek cleared his throat. “Is it my turn or Stiles’?”

“Stilinski’s of course. Ladies first after all.” Jackson answered, smirking at Stiles. He gave a sarcastic chuckle along with a sneer.

“How dare you assume me anything even akin to a lady.” Stiles joked, not much caring about the gendering jab, but wondering now how much from their interactions Lydia relaid to Jackson, if anything.

“My sincerest apologies.” Jackson said with a heavy tone of sarcasm. “Should’ve said Hooligans before Ruffians. Excuse-moi .”

“And don’t you forget it.” Stiles answered, a bit more amusedly as he got up and went to get his ball, trying to keep the tone friendly. Stiles had intended to do his best to try and get a strike his first roll just to show Derek up, but the topic had seemed to pass, and doing well would only make Scott-

“Try not to pull anything, babe.” Derek’s gloating voice called as he got his ball comfortable in his hand. All niceties left Stiles’ mind as he turned to glare at Derek unbelievingly, only getting a good natured kiss blown at him in return. Stiles shook his head as he turned back onto the approach, not listening to whatever Scott was murmuring to Derek. He took a breath to gain his composure, then took two steps, and backhand-whipped the ball up the lane. It cracked like thunder as it hit the wood before it sped off. The ball obeyed his direction, and the pins fell. Not all at first, but the ones that had rolled into the ones that hadn’t, and in a couple seconds the public score screen congratulated him with the “Strike!” animation. He tried not to celebrate with too much jubilee, wanting to play it cool.

“Oh… Yeah, no, Stiles is really good at bowling…” Scott said casually to Derek, as if what had just happened didn’t prove as much already.

“I… can see that.” Derek replied, obviously a bit stunned. Stiles ignored it, turning his attention instead to high fiving Allison as he came back to sit down.

“Fucking nice, Stilinski!” Jackson laughed, clapping, apparently also a bit surprised. “I didn’t know you were that good. Why didn’t you ever play for the JV league?” 

“Uh,” He quickly tried to think of an equally valid reason that wasn’t the truth. Preferably an honest one. “Um, bad joints, can’t handle it for extended periods, wrist starts to hurt.” Jackson shrugged, apparently accepting that excuse.

“That’s a shame. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a ball go that fast.” Jackson said, letting it go surprisingly easy.

“Your turn.” Stiles happily changed the subject, kissing Derek's cheek again. Derek nodded, returning the gesture before getting up.

Chapter Text

~!~

It was a relatively slow night, besides the cases they already had to deal with. No murders, no break ins, no public disturbance complaints, and even their three lost pet cases were wrapped up earlier today. So Tara was stuck in her office, drowning in the killer mountain lion case. Where had it come from? Where did it go? She bit her tongue to keep “where did it come from cotton-eyed-joe” from being her next thought. 

She needed another goddamn coffee, and since she didn’t want to leave Norrie alone when Dean was supposed to show up at some point, she was stuck waiting on their shitty 10 year old coffee maker and stale dollar store coffee grounds. Why oh why couldn’t they just get a keurig already? Because new office equipment meant paperwork and she didn’t wanna deal with it and kept procrastinating? Well, that’s pretty rude to point out. God, she should just say fuck the bureaucratic bullshit and buy one herself. Maybe they could do an office pool?

But, she couldn’t distract her focus away from her primary goal for long, that being solving this godforsaken case. Figuring out if there was some human behind this somehow or if it was just some rabid animal. The attacks seemed too clean to be random, but god knows she’d be happy to officially write these off as animal attacks. Weird shit like this was why their paperwork was always so abysmal. The State Troopers had made her keenly aware since she started as Sheriff, that this was precisely why the feds hated them. Or at least towns “like them”. ‘Stupid hicks with their weird bullshit. Who the fuck can’t tell the difference between a murder and a mauling?’ Well, fuckfaces, we can probably tell the difference a hell of a lot better than you!! Those assholes would shit themselves if they had to work a case like this once, let alone the insane amount they had over the years, that she now had to go through to make sure there wasn’t any that could finally be closed, or at least “Resolved”- John’s old system for cases that were solved or dealt with but couldn’t officially be closed for various reasons. Which was another thing she’d heard mocking complaints about, but also heard a lot of other departments praising and saying they started using it themselves, or want to. She really didn’t get why it bothered the big picture boys so much. It was just as helpful with normal cases as weird ones, and it got rid of the issue of closing cases prematurely. Tara had added a new category: Unsolvable. Pretty self explanatory. A lot of “resolved cases” were shit where they knew what happened, but there was nothing they could really do. The category just got bogged down a lot with… Well, with shit like she was starting to worry this case might be. It was mostly stuff that was too weird to even investigate properly. Maybe Stilinski could’ve figured them out, somehow. He was pretty good with that. She was not. Some of the cases might have been perfectly well resolved, but she could hardly make sense of John’s case notes enough to tell, let alone explain them to a higher up if asked. Half of them were damn near gibberish, and another third of them were just… insane. In a strange unfortunate way she was grateful for this case. At least it was pulling her away from archiving duty.

She got up to stretch her legs, and go check on the coffee maker. And of course, Norrie. She went for the coffee first, because of course she did.

“Don’t you dare touch that coffee ‘til it’s done brewing!! I’ll break your fingers!” Norrie yelled at her from up front.

“I’m the sheriff!” She answered with sarcastic indignance, though not taking the about half a cup that had managed to brew.

“Fine, I’ll break your sheriff fingers.” Norrie drawled amusedly as Tara came out to the lobby. “I think that raccoon is back at it, I heard the trashcan again. Can you go scare her off before she gets stuck again?” Tara sighed, knowing Norrie couldn’t very well leave her post. “Pleaaaaase, Tar?” She gave Norrie a long suffering look. “Think of her big old cutesy eyes! Think of her all scared, Tar.” Norrie begged with a cutesy voice.

“I’m going, I’m going…” She shook her head, figuring it was a bit too much of a possibility that she might get mauled by the loose rabid cougar to joke about it. She walked to the door, hand suddenly very conscious of where her gun was with that thought in her mind. As she went to glance out the door to see what was messing with the garbage, a figure instead quickly made its way up the ramp towards her. She jumped with a gasp as she looked up, only greeted with Dean, looking up from the drink holder he was carrying none the wiser to how much he just scared the shit out of her. “God fucking damn it, Winchester…” She said with a panted breath, pulling the door open for him a bit roughly, still happy to see their latest friend over a rabid mountain lion, or worse .

“That’s a funny way of saying ‘thanks for bringing us food, Dean’, but hell, I’ll take it.” He said with a smirk, stepping in and aside so she could close the door. “Hope burgers are okay, couldn’t find anywhere else open ‘cause of the curfew.”

“Burgers are great .” Norrie said excitedly as Dean went over to the counter and handed her one of the coffees as he checked the bags of food. “But just so you know, Beaman’s Pizza is still open 24/7 on Ferret Street, and Parks’ is out of town technically but they’re only about 5 minutes up the road from you, and they’re staying open because they get a lot of that good good ‘only place on the thruway’ business.”

“Oh. Cool, thanks, I’ll keep it in mind…”

“I’ll write ‘em down for you before you head out.” Norrie offered with a nod and a welcoming smile. The two of them were both such sweethearts, but Dean wasn’t as close to Norrie yet as he was to her, and it could be a bit awkward at times between them. She figured it had to do with the fact she had worked with Dean a lot on Stiles’ adoption and she’d put a lot of time into getting to know the guys who would essentially be Stiles’ new father figures. Not that Norrie hadn’t been involved and supportive, helping wherever she could. Tara and Dean had just really clicked right off the bat. No one could replace John in her life, and Dean was definitely more of a peer than John who was always more of an older brother figure to her, but the late nights they’d spent on the phone together getting things set up and talking about their personal lives had definitely landed them at least at the standing of “good friends.” Dean was about on as good of terms with Norrie as Tara was with Cas. But Dean had also been really good with everyone at the station about not being condescending like a lot of older dudes had a tendency to be with their mostly young adult police force, who had to not only patrol Beacon Hills, but also patrol across Beacon County. It had earned him a lot of esteem with everyone, that he’d come in talking to people like equals and didn’t seem opposed to learning new information.

“Dean, you scared the hell out of me!” She chastised lightly, a bit calmer now after her tangent thoughts of how cute it was to see her new bestie and her girlfriend get along. “Did you mess with the garbage at all?”

“Yeah, I ran into it coming up, sorry.” Dean said, seeming surprised she would ask or maybe that it would cause a disturbance. “I made sure to put it back good as new, though.”

“It’s fine…” Norrie assured. “We thought you were a raccoon getting into it. Tara’s just a bit jumpy lately.”

“All the overtime getting to you?” Dean asked, that concerned, big brother look on his face that he insisted was just a habit. Tara smiled and shook her head.

“No, no. I started off the day with a shitload of drugs to the face and now I’m missing bedtime, that’s all.” She explained with a bit of a chuckle. Dean gave her a surprised, non-judgemental look.

“Novacaine. She had a dentist appointment earlier.” Norrie clarified, giving an endeared smile. 

“Ooooh, good one.” Dean nodded with a now understanding smirk, switching around a few food items between the bags. “Hope I’m not making you stay any later?”

“Naaah.” Tara groaned. “I count anything involving Stiles as work, just as a precautionary measure for when he inevitably becomes a supervillain.”

“Riiiight, that’s my cue to leave you guys alone.” Norrie murmured, inconspicuously going back to busy work on the computer. Dean took one of the bags, leaving it to the side of Norrie’s computer, opposite her mouse, before following Tara back to her office.

“Sooo, what kinda info you looking for, Winchester?” Tara asked, sitting in her chair and kicking her feet up on the corner of the desk, only bothering to take her coffee as Dean set out the food.

“Well, it’s not about Stiles, strictly speaking…”

“Ruh-Roh…” Tara joked, watching Dean for any tells. Dean was great, and she certainly trusted him a fair amount, but calling her and saying they were going to talk about Stiles only to then say it’s not about Stiles was a bit sketchy… “About that boyfriend of his again, the Hale kid? Derek?”

“Uh, not this time.”

“S’up then?”

“Stiles’ parents…”

“Oh.” Tara blinked. That explained it. Dean looked at her carefully but seemed to be mostly apologetic… “Okay. Well. What… do you wanna know?”

“Just trying to get to know as much about them as I can, without bothering the kid about it…” Made sense she figured despite her sigh, taking her feet down from her desk.

“Well, I didn’t know Claudia super well. Mostly through John, and of course, growing up around town with her.” Tara shrugged. As much as she would’ve liked to help, she didn’t know enough to be at all useful, particularly not useful enough to be worth talking about it.

“Been getting a lot of that tonight.” Dean sighed. “Do you know anyone who did know Claudia well?” Tara could think of a couple people she knew Claudia was fairly close to, but she had little insight into how to get a hold of them, other than of course those still in town.

“The only person I can really think of who’s actually around is Melissa. I think she was close with Natalie’s mom, but she’s supposedly dead, I think. She had a sister, Rosa, but she took off before Claudia was even in the ground. John always insisted it was nothing, Rosa just didn’t want to see Claudia waste away like that, but… I don’t know, always seemed like they might’ve had a falling out, seeing as John never talked to her much after, and from what I heard she barely bothered to call Stiles. Oh!! She was really close with Marin right up until she died too. I don’t know if they knew each other through her being Stiles’ therapist or what, but I know they were really good friends. She was their lawyer, executor of their estate, I think she was technically Stiles’ godmom even.”

“What?? I thought she was a social worker or an adoption agent or some shit?? If she was his godmother, why’d she adopt him out??” Dean put his coffee down as he went to take a sip.

“Girl’s a jack of all trades, I guess. As for why she didn’t take Stiles, I don’t really know. I don’t think they ever really thought she’d have to, and if so, I doubt it’d have been permanent. If it came down to it, he probably would’ve emancipated himself and Melissa or I probably would’ve taken him in... if we hadn’t found a wealthy, loving couple looking to adopt and willing to move into town, that is... Marin just doesn’t seem like the child rearing type, ya know?” Tara shrugged, unwrapping her burger and taking a bite. Dean seemed to take it as an explanation, going back to drinking his coffee.

“Alright… Who’s Natalie, who’s her mother, and what’s ‘supposedly dead’ supposed to mean??” He asked once he finished a leisurely sip.

“I feel like that’s not something I should tell you, but you’ll probably figure it out by context. Her mother is Lorraine Martin. And supposedly meaning weird shit happens around here too much for me to trust fuck all. She supposedly died up in Echo after going crazy and taking a power drill to her own skull. But we never got a body, and I trust the shit that goes on in Echo even less than anything else that goes on around here.”

“Jesus fucking christ, that’s gruesome… Stiles mentioned Echo House earlier, I figured he was exaggerating. Is it really that bad?” Dean asked, starting in on his fries.

“Oh, worse . Much worse. They’re just good at covering up most of the stuff that goes on up there. I don’t even know how many times the department’s tried to get that place shut down. Never amounted to any action against them, but everyone around here knows that place is hell on earth. John nearly lost his job a couple times keeping Claudia out of there.” She didn’t know why, but she felt bad bringing it up. She apologized to John and Claudia in her mind for her irreverence, in case they were looking down on her.

“Did she get that bad??” Dean asked before biting into his burger. 

“Yeah. It was more than half the reason she eventually had to have a permanent room at the hospital. She got pretty violent sometimes… And John and Melissa were really the only ones who could manage to reign her in when she’d go off.” She took her turn to bite her burger.

“Well, how about Peter?? I heard her and him were pretty close.” Dean asked quickly. Tara cursed him a bit in her mind as she pushed the food to her cheeks so she could mumble a response as articulately as possible.

“Peter who?”

“Hale.” Dean said as if it was nothing. Tara had to take a moment to chew and swallow to properly communicate her shock.

“ Hale ?? Fuck no. Claudia hated the Hale family.” Tara said, flabbergasted. “I think whoever told you that might have been fucking with you.”

“ The entire family? ” Dean asked, as if this was shocking. Which she supposed she could see why it might be considering Stiles was dating Derek.

“Well…” That made her pause and think a second.

“Well??”

“No, I suppose… I suppose I only really ever saw her have issues with Talia… I guess I assumed since she pretty much ran the family, that that meant she wasn’t on good terms with any of them. But I never really saw her interact with any Hales other than Talia, so I don’t think she was… Well… ” God, it was confusing to think back to Claudia in her childhood.

“ Well??? ” Dean repeated curiously.

“She… They could have been friends when I was a kid but… They certainly didn’t act like they liked each other by the time I joined the force… Peter I don’t think ever even acted like he knew her… And I don’t- I don’t see Claudia getting that violent with a friend’s family… Even after she started going.” Tara mused, half to herself, confused about the alleged relationship.

“ Claudia got violent with Talia Hale? Why??” Dean asked, again shocked. “She- Talia… from what I’ve heard at least, doesn’t seem like someone I’d want to fuck with on a good day. And Claudia attacked her?? While sick ?”

“Neither was Claudia…” Tara scoffed. “Around the same time as the Barros incident, one of Talia’s d- I mean s- Wait. Hey, no, no way. Not a story I should be telling you, especially not when Derek is dating Stiles.” Tara caught herself thanks to her slip up giving her a chance to think.

“ It has to do with Derek then? ” Dean continued to question.

“ None Of Your Business, Winchester. ”

“I mean…” Dean set down his burger as she glared at him. “Now that I know he knows about it, and it happened around the Barros incident…”

“ Dean. ”

“I dunno, man, seems way more invasive having to find out that way…” He argued feigning innocence and good intentions. She groaned and slapped the desk, rolling her eyes so hard her head followed.

“You know I could lose my job…?”

“The most qualified cop in miles, over some rich douche half the county probably thinks probably murdered his family??”

“ He didn’t- ”

“I know that!” Dean insisted. “I’m just saying half the county probably doesn’t.” 

“Dean…” She sighed, already resolved she was probably gonna give in.

“Tar… Come on, I already know something’s up, and the kid is dating our boy. I’m never gonna trust him again if I don’t know… If I’m not gonna trust him, I wanna do him the justice of at least knowing why.” As she sighed again, Dean leaned back. Apparently accepting whatever her answer was going to be.

“Not long after the Barros accident, another girl who Derek was friends with died. Like weird kinda died… He was there, everyone on the case seemed fairly sure he had something to do with it. He was absolutely devastated, so I don’t have the smallest clue what must’ve happened. But the Sheriff was pretty sure Stiles ‘had something to do with’ Anna Barros dying too, so who fucking knows honestly… But Sheriff Amontillado was… not happy, and it didn’t help that Lorraine Martin’s whole spectacle had happened in the last year or so either. So he roped the two of them in to give them shit about it. I’d guess out of a lack of anything else he could really do.” Tara paused, to catch her breath and try to remember exactly what had gone down the day of.

“Okay… So how’d they get into a fight?? From that, it sounds like they’re in a similar situation, with a common… Well, ‘enemy’ for lack of a better term. Why’d Claudia snap on Talia?” Dean asked, apparently not feeling particularly patient, or maybe just wanting to eat up the silence.

“From what I remember from the yelling, it went something like ‘Don’t you compare my little girl to her hellspawn of a son!’ ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean, you conceited bitch?!’ ‘My daughter made one mistake. How many bodies does that boy have to his name so far?!’, ‘Say another word about him and I’ll make you one of them.’, ‘Delicia’s never going to do this again. Can you confidently say the same for your filthy little-’, aaaand then Claudia made a very determined effort to claw Talia’s eyes out, and about 4 of us, including John, pulled her off her. I don’t know much Spanish, but there was a lot of yelling of what I assumed weren’t very nice words.” Tara muttered, annoyed, more at the memory of Talia’s bullshit than at Dean for dragging the story out of her. Dean seemed shocked. She didn’t know what at though. Talia being shitty, Claudia being probably a lot scarier than Dean expected, the two’s apparent relationship... She couldn’t blame him honestly, whichever it was.

“Wow… Wishin’ I was there. And what?? Hale just sat there and took it?”

“Uuuuh… I wasn’t in the room yet, so I can’t say for sure… She obviously put up enough of a fight to keep Claudia from straight up taking out her eyes, Talia did have some scratches on her arms and hands, but her  face was bleeding a fair bit by the time we got in there. Not enough to go to the hospital apparently, but enough it was fucking scary to see. Honestly though, I’d be shocked if Talia would have raised a finger to Claudia. She was one of the only people who had at least as much pull around town as her. If she hurt her, it definitely would have hurt her relationships with people around town. She threw a bit of a fit, demanded Claudia be arrested, which I’m sure even she realized was never gonna happen, and then just stormed out. John and Claudia got chewed out, but from what John said, Claudia talked the boss man down enough to avoid any actual punishment.” Tara turned her attention back to her fries, trying to dredge her appetite back up after remembering that scene.

“Any idea what Talia was going on about? With the shit about Stiles??” Dean asked after a moment, finishing a bite of his burger and taking a swig of coffee to wash it down. She studied his body language for a moment, the way he shifted, the way his body seemed closed off though consciously extended outward, the way his glances to her seemed coordinated and observant themselves.

“Why? Something up??” She asked, cocking her head to the side a bit.

“Nah.” Dean brushed off at first. Only once he saw she didn’t buy it did he change his tune. “Nothing too serious. I think he’s just grieving mostly…”

“Weird shit then?” Tara asked, keeping an eye on him. He rolled his eyes, looking away, and then shrugged. Nailed it. “Don’t give me the skeptic act, Winchester. Anytime I’ve brought it up before, you’ve known exactly what I mean. If something’s going on with Stiles, I wanna know.”

“Like I said, it’s not even anything serious... Ghosts maybe. Ya know the old creaks and breezes.” Dean lied, shaking his head, and glancing at his food. Clearly not fully lying. It seemed like it might have actually been ghosts. But he was lying about what was happening.

“Just John or…?”

“Nah.” Dean said with a sigh, apparently deciding to open up a bit more. “Barros girl too, his mom, couple others we think. But Stiles has been feeling like shit about it. Having nightmares, panic attacks, guilt tripping himself it seems like… Seems his own brain is causing him issues more than them being around is. That’s why I’m asking around. Wanna get an idea of the kid’s family, his past, where he’s coming from, ya know? Who’s hanging around is a side note, at this point.” He didn’t seem to be lying or holding back this time so she let it go.

“Wouldn’t know, no one around here talks about weird shit unless they know you know as much about it as they do… And I don't." She gave a strained chuckle out of mild irritation. "Most I could tell you is he’s got some pretty shit luck, but I’m guessing you could’ve gathered that yourself. John and Claudia were really private when it came to more personal family stuff though, especially once they had Stiles. Though Clau and Rosa were pretty tight lipped about their family pretty much the entire time I knew them, so it might just be a family culture kind of thing. Melissa or Marin probably know a bit more. Maybe ask Derek if Talia ever ran her mouth about anything?” Tara offered, taking one of the last few bites of her Burger. Dean nodded and put the last of his in his mouth. The quiet as she finished up her dinner was a nice change of pace, and seemed to mark the end of the interrogation. Dean sipped his coffee, worked on finishing off his fries while she finished up.

“So…” Dean said after a bit of time sitting there, apparently waiting for her to have finished her burger for some reason. It didn’t seem like a “So Bye” so, but she wasn’t sure what else he’d wait to tell her.

“So?” She asked, quirking her eyebrows up.

“So, Derek is…?” He started. Her eyebrows fell with worry.

“Is what…” She said, hoping it wasn’t what she thought.

“... Y’know.” 

“ No… ” She groaned.

“No?”

“ You didn’t know? ” She hissed, before burying her face in her hands.

“I had no clue, nah.” He said, a sympathetic lilt undercutting it. “He stealth??”

“ How the fuck would I know?” She sighed, coming back from trying to suffocate herself with her own palms. “I can’t believe I told you that, I shouldn’t have fucking told you that, fuuuuck...”

“Hey, it’s fine. I know how to keep my mouth shut. Anyone asks, I heard it from the senile old bag always hanging around the supermarket. Lady’s constantly running her mouth, can barely remember her own birthday.” Dean assured. She shook her head.

“I mean thanks, yeah, but I’m more- Look I’m not assuming you’re- but if it comes up or anything, like please be chill about it? Again not that I think you’re, like, phobic or anything, but I already feel like an asshole for even outing the poor kid, I don’t want him to have to deal with some weird conversation because of my big mouth.”

“No weird conversations necessary. I mean it’s not my first rodeo, I have trans friends, been with trans people. And if I had a question, trust me, I’d google it way before I’d go putting Stiles’ sketchy boyfriend on the spot.” 

“I just can’t believe you didn’t know…” She groaned once more. “I should’ve thought about it, I mean, kid passes hard and it’s not like they’ve been dating that long…” She went on beating herself up about her misstep.

“So was that whole bullshit before he, ya know… came out?” Dean apparently decided it was better to change the topic rather than try to talk her out of feeling shitty for the next hour. Tara sighed. If she’d already fucked up, she might as well be honest and use the chance to shed some light on Talia’s questionable at best parenting.

“Nope. He’d definitely been out for a while before that. Short hair, chest flat as he could get it, he/him, going by Derek, and everyone ‘round here knew that. Well, except Claudia, since she avoided anything involving them. I told her afterwards. Too bad she didn’t know, honestly. That would’ve started a fight real quick. Might’ve even got Talia to throw a punch if Clau played her cards right.”

“So, Talia-”

“Was a ‘vile, transphobic, abusive bitch’? Yep.”

“ I was actually going to say ‘didn’t approve’. But fair enough. ” Dean reeled back a bit at the venom.

“Hey, Clau’s words, not mine.” She scoffed a laugh. “Whether or not I agree, I’ll leave to the imagination. Not nice to speak ill of a dead bitch .”

“Sounds like it was maybe a sensitive issue for Claudia?”

“I mean yeah, probably. Rosa was pretty open about being trans, could’ve just been defensive from everything she saw her have to deal with in general, but from what little they did say, it didn’t seem like they had a great relationship with their mom either. So it might’ve been something she literally watched Rosa deal with.” Tara offered.

“I heard Claudia had some family in town, other than Rosa. Aunt, grandmother? Know anything about them?”

“Um, no, and I’m almost certain she didn’t? Her and Rosa didn’t have any other family, at least that they talked about. Most they really said about their family was their parents died when they were kids. Clau occasionally told stories about being homeless and living in Mexico growing up, but she told a lot of stories , and I was a kid when she told most of ‘em, so I don’t know how true that stuff was. I remember people making jokes about her looking like so and so, but I asked her about it and she said they were jokes about her looking younger than she was.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess that makes sense then.” He nodded, seeming more like he was dropping the topic than fully satisfied with the explanation. “So… how’d Derek deal with his mom being… like that?” Dean asked, shifting his weight a bit, probably realizing he was on thin ice.

“ No clue, and not really pertinent to what we’re discussing tonight, Dean. ” She half scolded, glaring. “From what I recall Talia eventually started using his real name sometime before the fire, but she didn’t seem to care at all about letting it slip unless he was around either. So, I honestly couldn’t tell you for the life of me how he might’ve felt about her.” They both fell quiet, Dean giving a shrug at the information. They sat for a moment, in silence, as the topic died.

“So, what about John?” Dean took the opportunity to change the subject.

“What about John??” She asked just a bit confusedly. It’s not like the whiplash from the topic jump helped at all.

“Well… I might’ve heard some things, Tar.” Dean said carefully. She appreciated the sensitivity but didn’t want Dean thinking she’d get defensive.

“You don’t have to tiptoe, Dean. He was kinda shitty for a while... I loved him, but I’m not gonna condone the place he went after Claudia died...” 

“Kinda...? I heard for a while Stiles was flinching every time any adult man gestured at him and having a nervous breakdown anytime he mildly inconvenienced people…” Dean was a bit more forthcoming, but still careful about how he spoke the familiar claims.

“ Ah, good to see Harris is still running his mouth… ” She muttered at the macabre reminder.

“You saying he shouldn’t be?”

“Not saying nobody should be talking about it. I’m just saying, if anyone shouldn’t be, it’s probably him. It’s not like he’s a perfect guy either.” 

“Is he lying?” 

“Well, no- I mean, I don’t know , I assume not, but the only reason he’s bringing it up after all these years is because he’s got a grudge against John for doing his job. Probably the only reason he started spreading rumors about it in the first place.”

“Pretty sure he brought it up because I asked.” Dean argued. She shrugged, giving him that point.

“Well, I stand by the second bit.”

“You don’t think it’s more likely he was worried about Stiles, as his teacher, seeing him like that on the daily?”

“ Please . We were all worried about Stiles. Shockingly he’s the only one who tried fucking up their lives.”

“By reporting… suspected abuse? By an alcoholic father? That’s the take you wanna go with, Tar?” Dean narrowed his eyes. Tara rolled her eyes.

“You just don’t know John.  He obviously got better.” She sighed. “Besides, that’s not how any of that shit gets dealt with around here. If it ever got bad, we’d have had Melissa or Marin take him for a while, while pressuring John to get his shit together. And it never got as bad as Adrian tried to say it did. Stiles was just an anxious, hyperactive, grieving kid , he wasn’t getting beat or anything. Which John got him going to Marin to help with before any of that shit went down . John was a loving dad, trying his best. He needed help and support, not to be thrown under a bus by some nerdy jackass with a vendetta against him.”

“You don’t think it’s possible you might be biased toward seeing John as the good guy here because he’s your friend?”

“ Really? ” Tara deadpanned. “Dean, like I said I’m not trying to paint over how he acted. It was shitty, abusive, I’m on that. I’m not even saying Harris was necessarily wrong, I just don’t agree with his motives.”

“And I’m just saying you might have assumed the wrong motives.” Dean sighed. “Talking to the kid, it seems like he just knew a very different side of John than you did, and wasn’t about to trust the kid’s safety on the hope that John was a good guy deep down and was gonna get better while he didn’t see anybody doing shit about it…”

“That doesn’t really line up with him constantly giving Stiles shit...”

“Does if he’s a hardass to all his students and Stiles has behavioral issues. Which tracks, given you’ve said yourself he’s a little shit.” Dean argued with a smirk. She sighed.

“Okay, I’ll give you a firm ‘Maybe, I’ll consider it.’ if we can please just move on.”

“Cool... ‘Cause I was more wondering about when John met Claudia. Not after.” Dean offered the topic change casually. 

“Oh.” Tara paused, taking a moment to change gears and think. She was pretty sure she had memories from before Claudia had started hanging around John, but they were from when she was super young, and could’ve just been memories of her not being present and they could’ve already known each other. “I’m not sure. I was really young. I think she was at my 5th birthday, so I’d say when John was 15- Well, before, since they obviously knew each other before that.” 

“ Fifteen? ” Dean croaked almost breathlessly, obviously trying to temper his shock. “Like a one then a five? As in he was at most 14 when he met this girl?” 

“I mean, woman technically. I’m pretty sure Claudia was an adult.”

“ How adult?” Dean ground out, a bit wide eyed.

“At least 20, I think. I remember John joking about it at the time. Course I didn’t realize what the fuck that meant at that age. Don’t know if they were dating, I don’t remember them, like, kissing or anything until way way later. Though that might have been because… ya know.”

“Lady didn’t want everyone in town Chris Hansening her? Yeah, makes sense. ”

“Again, not saying it’s not weird, it’s definitely weird. Glad the two of them ended up happy and all, but still very weird, and of course, illegal. Not denying, not condoning.”

“ I would hope not. ” Dean gave a nervous laugh, still obviously shocked. “So let me get this right, Claudia was 37 or older when she died?”

“Ummm…” Tara thought about it for a second, doing the mental math. “Yeah, think so.”

“Huh… Why does Stiles’ adoption paperwork say she was 32 then?? I mean, Marin wrote it up, didn’t she? She should know Claudia’s age, right?”

“Wait, does it??”

“Yeah.”

“Um… I dunno, probably a typo, I guess?” Tara figured, unable to figure out anything else. She knew Claudia was older than John, and John had definitely been 32 when she passed, so that was the only really reasonable conclusion.

“Could you maybe check her exact age so I can correct it? Her age should be on file, right?”

“Well yeah, maybe, but you’d have to ask Melissa. We don’t have a file on her here.”

“She was getting in fights with one of the richest chicks in town, and she never got in any legal trouble?” He asked incredulously, collecting his trash in his burger’s wrapper and balling it up.

“Yep, favoritism, my guy. Same reason pretty much every Hale had a mile long record of petty shit. Well, except the kids, of course, and Peter, I think? The department seemed to pick its side of whatever rivalry Clau and Talia had going on. Didn’t help that Talia was a fan of trying to screw over the department whenever we caught her in a mood.”

“Wait, wait. Peter Hale got preferential treatment in the department? And Claudia didn’t have anything to do with that??” Dean asked, pausing with his ball of trash in his hands.

“It was going on before I was here, so I couldn’t tell you. I know John was always pretty nice to him, and encouraged others to be. And he was pretty good at talking himself out of trouble all on his own. But there were certainly people who gave him a fair amount of shit. Hell, my friend Rourke probably wrote 80% of the tickets in his file. Always whined that he was ‘annoying’ and ‘such a smartass’, but honestly he hated the other Hales beyond fucking around. Peter was probably the only one he was fond of, and he just still loved picking on him.”

“ Jim Rourke??”

“Well, Jamie to me most of the time, but yeah, lot of people called him Jim. Stiles mention him??” Tara smiled at the thought someone else remembered and was thinking of Jamie. He’d always been a great guy, if a bit anti-social and standoffish. 

“Yeah, something like that. What makes you think he was actually cool with Peter?”

“The amount of times I caught them with their tongues down each others’ throats? Or Peter picking up Jamie’s phone half the time?” She caught a breeze from the window and decided to wheel over to close it really quick, since the night air had already filled the room and cooled it down a fair amount, and she didn’t want wind moving any papers.

“Oh… They were…?”

“Mm-hmm.” Tara gave a bit of a giggle as she came back over, sipping her coffee to warm up. “Very cute.”

“And he was giving the guy tickets?” Dean laughed. She laughed along.

“Yeah. It gave them a chance to banter, and flirt, and be a pain in each others’ asses. Mighta been how they met now that I think about it. It’s not like Peter ever complained so Jamie never got in trouble, at least for that.”

“Okay, I won’t yuck their yum, I guess…” Dean shook his head, smiling. “I heard the dude had a huge grudge against Derek though. Never came up?”

“Oh.. Jamie didn’t have any personal issue with Derek, other than being ‘a bougie little pain in my ass brat’, at least not until Talia and Der pitched a fit to the old man and claimed Jamie was ‘stalking and unfairly targeting’ him. And it was after the whole thing with Talia, and Claudia had gone on like an hour long rant to him about what a piece of shit she was to ‘that poor boy’ and how he should’ve said something, so the old man felt bad for him and Jamie had Talia complain about him a shitload, and the old man didn’t want them to end up suing us for not addressing it… So he suspended Jamie and put him on patrolling the Reserve.”

“I assume that’s bad… How long?”

“Suspension was a couple weeks. Reserve patrol was only supposed to be a few months, but one day he… He just didn’t come back. He called in that he’d heard some screaming and was gonna check it out, and never called back in. Found his car abandoned in the woods, lights still going. We figured maybe he mistook a mountain lion’s scream for a human and got taken by surprise.” She tried to not depress the mood too much, but it still hurt to think about, even years later.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Tar. You were close?” Dean said, resting his hand on the desk, giving the edge a light squeeze. She appreciated the subtle gesture of comfort to allow her a bit of her pride, but she shook her head.

“Kinda, yeah... We started out as work friends mostly. We knew each other a bit from around town, and me hanging around the station when I was in school, but we only really started hanging out when I joined the force. I can’t know how he felt about me, obviously, but… He taught me a lot as a newbie, kind of a junior mentor along with John. He meant a lot to me, we had a lot in common, we supported each other since neither of us had much of a support system, at least in town. I guess I’ve got a bit of an ‘older brother friend’ habit.” Tara felt warm and fuzzy and secure getting to talk about him with someone for once, the happy memories comforting her like a snug hug. “I know he’s probably happier wherever he is now. He was certainly one depressed son of a bitch. I know for a fact there were days he was only sticking around for me or Peter or not wanting us or his landlady to find him dead… I just miss him… It’s nice to talk about him for once.”

“He close to John and his family too?”

“Not particularly, no. He knew them, first name basis, perfectly friendly, but that was the case for everyone in the department. Claudia liked his snarky attitude, and Jamie liked that mischievous kind of humor Clau had, but I’d say they were at most friendly acquaintances. Friendly co-workers for him and John, though John helped Jamie become a cop and encouraged him to, and was also always kind of our superior, so they had a bit of boss/mentor energy in there, ya know? But didn’t mean much with Jamie, he wasn’t really one for reverence. Just added a bit more warmth and tolerance between them.”

“Yeah, that makes sense, I guess… So, uh…” Dean drew out a cautious pause. Gosh, after everything he’d already gotten her to talk about, she imagined this one must be bad if he was that hesitant about it.

“Yeah, what is it, Dean?” She sighed with a smirk. He gave her a stunned, “caught red handed” sort of look. “Out with it, ask what you wanna ask.”

“I- Um… I was gonna ask… So how did Claudia- and of course John and their friends…- feel about the Hale fire?”

“Oof…” She huffed, a bit floored by the question. “I mean, Claudia was really far gone at that point, she died not long after, so I’m not sure how seriously her reaction can be taken… But John and Mel were there, they were the ones who got Peter and his niece out. So they were understandably fucked up about it. But they didn’t like, mention him being an old friend or anything… so that’s why I’d be a bit surprised if he had been. Be kinda weird if they had just not mentioned it.”

“Wait, John and Mel did what now ??” Dean sat forward.

“They were first on the scene, even before the fire department. They heard Peter’s niece and realized they were alive, thank goodness.”

“And they just… ran in and carried them out??”

“Well, basically, yeah. Heard it was Mel’s idea. They heard the girl screaming, realized it was coming from the basement, Mel drenched herself in water and ran in to get her. Swoon. John told the kid to stay where he was and went in after her, carried Peter out.”

“Wait, which kid? Derek??”

“Yeah. He was out when it started, he was supposed to go to a… I think, a concert with friends? He said he saw the smoke and ran back home before they ever showed up.”

“So… he’d definitely know Mel and John then?” Dean seemed to ponder on it a bit.

“I guess.” She snorted a small laugh at Dean’s one track mind. Here he’d been so curious about the fire just like, what? Last week? And now that he was hearing about it, he was focused on Mel and John. “Don’t know that he’d remember them though. It was a crazy night, I’m sure for him especially. Don’t know that the poor kid even slept more than a few minutes at a time until Laura dragged them out of town the second their sister was cleared for discharge.”

“Okay… What was Claudia’s reaction…?” Dean must have seen the apprehension on her face as she hesitated to talk about it, partially again surprised by the topic change. “That bad??”

“ Look, I wasn’t there, I don’t know anything.” Tara spewed the disclaimer as quickly as she could manage.

“But it was bad…?” Dean jumped to.

“But there were some rumors that her reaction might have seemed bad to an outsider…” She corrected then sighed. “From what I could tell, she was laughing hysterically one hour, morosely screaming the next, and catatonic the next… But that was just her every other day at that point. Like I said, she was really far gone. There just… might have been some… inappropriately morbid… celebratory… yelling… Right after she found out… Supposedly.” Tara winced at Dean’s look of shock.

“Holy fuck , so she really hated this chick…”

“Like I said, supposedly she was crying and screaming Talia’s name before the end of the night. You can’t really hold her reaction against her. Her brain was practically rotting out of her head. She’d probably react the same to finding out the local McDonalds shut down…”

“Yeah, but still, fuck . That’s dark, man.”

“Everything about Claudia was dark at that point. It was hard to see her like that...”

“Yeah, I gotcha. Just- damn. Went from hearing she was practically a saint to… this.”

“...Yeah…” Tara sighed. She couldn’t really say anything else. She’d been shocked to see that shift in Claudia first hand. It must have been a lot harder to believe just hearing it.

“Feel bad for the poor chick… I can’t even imagine going through that.” Dean fortunately sympathized. She gave him a grim smile, nodding. “What’d she even have? The paperwork didn’t specify what her condition was…”

“Oh, uh, I don’t think the doctors ever really figured it out. The main thing was the dementia. But she got so weak and sick as it got worse, I can’t imagine that was the only thing. They tried just about everything, couldn’t find the cause. Eventually John and Claudia gave up trying to. The treatments they tried seemed to slow it down temporarily, but towards the end it was just… prolonging a bad situation. Delaying the inevitable. Not to mention it must have been expensive. John constantly complained about the department insurance trying to weasel out of covering them. Don’t know if they ever managed to, can’t imagine how they’d have covered costs otherwise, but one of the first things John did when he got in office was replace them with another insurance company. A great one, mind you. Only fucking outside organization I’ve talked to that’s actually been helpful with the whole switch… or nice to me.” She hoped she succeeded in coming across as somewhat joking, though it was fairly true.

“Well, shit, sorry I was such a bummer tonight. I really do appreciate you helping me make sense of all this.” Dean offered, clearly as a way of signaling he wanted to wrap the discussion up, leaning to the side of the desk to toss his trash in the wastebasket.

“It was no problem, a nice talk. If anything, I’m sorry I can’t be more help.” Tara smiled. “Let me know if you find anything super interesting, ‘cause I’m probably going to be buried under piles of paperwork for the foreseeable future.” She sighed. Tossing her own trash and surveying to make sure she hadn’t fucked any folders up. “Oh, and of course give everybody my love. Tell Cas I promise I’ll work on getting over for dinner, I’m just super busy.”

“Hey, don’t break a sweat over it, kid, Cas is patient to a fault.” Dean said, heading over to linger by the door. “And understanding. And-”

“ And I know .” Tara laughed, knowing how easy it was to get poetically waxing about one’s significant other. “I can’t wait. I’ll see you guys then. Drive safe. And don’t linger outside too much.”

“Jeez, fine, mom. See ya.” Dean joked before heading out.

Chapter Text

~!~

Chris' chest ached as he pressed the button on the touch screen of his dashboard to disconnect the call. He took a deep breath, tightening his grip on the wheel as his throat quivered on the exhale. He took another breath, and gave his eyes a gentle rub to stop the welling tears. On that exhale the shaking of his breath felt a bit more controlled. One more inhale and exhale and all that remained was the deep faint pain lurking in his chest and the nagging self criticism in his head saying what a pathetic child he was. He grabbed his keys and climbed out of his SUV. He glanced around the area out of habit and nerves, but the parking lot was busy enough that he wasn’t too worried about being thorough. He only bothered giving a glance over either shoulder once he got to the automatic doors at the persistent thought that he should, just in case. He didn’t notice anything notable, just fellow shoppers coming and going from the lot to the building same as him, but he still felt a bit more at ease in the wide aisles, under the looming fluorescent lights. He welcomed the feeling of safety, and the distraction, so he decided to lengthen his list, and linger amongst the bustle of tired, evening, mid-week shoppers, ignoring the old woman who always seemed to be at the store when he was, rambling at random passersby, occasionally asking for help with something, that he’d happily give even if he was in a rush.

Allison was supposed to have Lydia and Stiles over for the weekend and he wasn’t planning to make her cancel yet, so he supposed he could just buy some snacks and food now rather than put it off until tomorrow or Friday. Vic was leaving on another business trip in the morning, and he wasn't great at cooking without a partner; he was easily overwhelmed in the kitchen and prone to forget to set timers and lose track of time, so something frozen and simple was a must. But he still had some pride, and finding something fairly decent and presentable the kids would enjoy was just as much a requirement as improbability of fucking it up. 

It took a good bit of indecisive window shopping before he found what he thought were the best options. His anxiety prodded incessantly that he’d fuck them up and should get something more simple, that the kids wouldn’t like them, that he needed to get more, that the kids had some allergies he was forgetting. His senseless worries got uncomfortably quiet as he pulled out the last item, some onion fries, Allison’s favorite. He felt a strange combination of calm and panic as a faint burning itch on his wrist helped him realize what was going on. He still jumped when he turned around to find the uncomfortably familiar, still just as young as she had been the last 20 years , woman in black, standing right there as he closed the freezer door, staring, smiling at him. 

“Jesus fucking christ…” He gasped, flinching to lash out for just a millisecond before stopping himself and just bracing his shock on the shopping cart, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Hello to you too, Chris.” She answered in the same unnervingly calm voice she always had. “Doing well it seems.”

“Damn it, Cat, you can’t do that to me.” He scolded, trying to reserve any warmth from his voice.

“Marin or Morrell in public, Chris.” Marin, apparently, scolded back in a serious tone before going back to a casual smile. “And I’m sorry, Chris. Would you prefer I inform you when I’m sneaking up on you next time?”

“Yes. God, you’re lucky I didn’t stab you...” He knew her by Morrell, though he didn’t use it much. They didn’t really speak around prying ears too often, and Cat was a much warmer and more familiar nickname to him. ‘Marin’ was new to him though, he assumed that being her first name. He tried not to jump to any conclusions as to why she was giving it to him now.

“It would be inconvenient, but I figured you weren’t unhinged enough to start randomly stabbing people in the supermarket yet.” She said stepping out of the way for him to get around to push the cart. He complied, though he didn’t know where to go with her following. ‘ Yet??’ He thought, wondering if she knew something he didn’t or if she was just teasing.

“Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, I guess…” He said, pausing as she seemed to want to look at the ice creams. He gave a glance, wondering if maybe he should get something. Ice cream was a sleepover thing, wasn’t it? "Bit late for a friendly visit…” Not to mention she’d tracked him down not only in public, but to the grocery store. “Something wrong?" He kept his eyes on the frozen desserts to hide his nervousness. He didn’t think she’d dance around it or wait this long to tell him if he’d done something, so he assumed she was coming to him for help with something. He would, of course, help if they needed him… However many of them were even left, he couldn’t help but worry, having not seen anywhere near enough of their friends since moving back. The only one he had seen had already died... Even not considering sentimentality- and resulting grief induced worry- they'd done too much for him not to help with whatever at the drop of a hat. Cat especially. When he needed help, she always came through, without even having to ask. He almost counted on Cat more than his own family, lately in particular. But he had never really worked on anything too serious with them. Mostly espionage, appearances, and occasionally swooping in to save someone’s ass. Sometimes- times like this, when he’d had such limited contact for so long- it felt like he was one of them in sentiment and little else, no matter how much Laurie assured that was mortal insecurity talking he’d eventually get over... But if the rumors of the kind of trouble the rest of the group used to get up to were even close to accurate, what they usually dealt with was well out of his pay grade as a hunter, and his moral comfort zone. Though he supposed he could say the same for Dean and his brother, especially since they’d last worked together. The experience left him grateful when he heard about the Campbells allegedly getting wiped out. He’d be lying if he said he and Cat hadn’t discussed doing something about them, though they both agreed it wasn’t worth the effort when it was so inevitable what they were doing would blow up in their face… They just kept an eye out for their victims who managed to escape, helping them along their way to safe areas when they could. But despite whatever happened to the Campbells, there was Sam, seemingly unscathed from the whole experience, despite being no better than his namesake at the time as far as Chris could tell… Hell knew what had been going on with him given what he and Dean got into, but that just made him all the more unnerved by his presence.

“Hm??” She hummed, looking back over at him, more at his building tension it seemed than his actual question. “Oh, no, nothing wrong in particular. Things have actually been quiet on my end of things recently. Corrine and Braeden continuing their nonsense, as usual, but that’s to be expected. Jen has been suspiciously out of touch, but she claims she’s just personally busy. Nothing I can’t handle at the moment.” Chris didn’t know who that was, but he assumed Cat had mentioned her before and he just didn’t know or remember her by her name. “‘Bb’, Chris…” She said under her breath. Ah, Blackbird. He nodded. He didn’t remember much about her except that she was another witch on the metaphorical payroll (hence the “black” moniker, as with Morrell’s “Black Cat”), and that she largely stayed to the side lines, sort of like him.

“Good.” He settled, not about to complain about not having to help with something and not being in trouble. As strange as Cat stalking him just to say hello was, he’d happily take it over the alternatives. Maybe she’d felt his recent stress? He hoped not. Or maybe she was just checking in on how he was dealing with what happened to Laura. He wouldn’t blame her, he was rough for a bit there. But he was used to losing people, used to hurting. He was in control now, if nothing else. “Any, uh, tips on an ice cream to go with? Stiles is coming over to spend the weekend with Allison and Lydia. Not sure what he likes anymore.” He interrupted himself, not wanting to dwell on it anymore.

“It’s sweet that they’re friends already.” Cat seemed to give a genuine soft smile. “Mmm… I’m not sure. Been a while since I had to take him for ice cream as well unfortunately…”Chris couldn’t help but smile, remembering the few times they’d been able to get the kids together. Sunny days in parks around town, watching them bicker and play. Clau had eventually gotten so paranoid about being together out in public they couldn’t keep it up. He wondered if the kids remembered each other, or if they would if reminded… “Last I checked cookies and cream or mint chocolate chip were his favorites.”

“Ooooh. Hard or soft?” Chris entertained the soft casual atmosphere, as rare as it was.

“Hm, I don’t know if he has a preference, but I know he’d usually opt for the frozen yogurt place over ice cream, so I would suspect soft.” Cat deduced as if it was something direly important. He gave a soft chuckle.

“Ah, a juvenile delinquent after my own heart…” He joked, grabbing a container of soft cookies ‘n cream ice cream, and putting it in the cart. 

“So.” Cat said as he finished doing so. He looked at her, taking in the calculating hardness of her expression. Shit. There was something. “I heard you had a nice little chat with our friend Dean Winchester…”

“There it is…” He sighed, partly in relief. He gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut.”

“I know you do, just curious… What did you two talk about?” She asked, lilt in her voice. She already knew, she must’ve been testing his honesty. His loyalty.

“He wanted to know about Stiles’ parents, which of course included Claudia, and some guy named John…”

“M.” She clarified. Rott, or “Black Dog’s” real name started with an M, but given this guy’s didn’t, and that Stiles was paler than Claudia by a good few shades, he assumed she meant Mouse, who he never called by anything else, Mouse just always fit him so well.

“ The kid??” He tried to hide his judgement, despite his shock. “I thought he was just helping Clau out with shit like everyone else. He was the dad??”

“Hm.” She smiled as she gave a little chuckle. “I know you were keen to ignore it at the time, but I’ll remind you he didn’t stay a child, Chris.” He supposed that was fair enough. God only knew how old Peter was compared to him. As surprising as it was, he couldn’t deny it did explain a few things too. It still felt weird. “I don’t know how this is such a shock to you, I swear I invited you to their wedding.” Wait, what??

“They got married?! When I was in town??? When??” How oblivious had he been??

“When John was 20, before they even had Stiles. I don’t know if you were in town, I think you said you had a case to deal with when I invited you. We found it rather rude of you.”

“Wait. The time with the rougarou?! Cat, you called it a fucking ‘group celebratory bonding ritual’, I thought it was an orgy or something!! I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal to skip it! You never told me it was a wedding!” He hissed annoyedly.

“ Marin , Chris.” Cat corrected. “It was Corrine and Peter’s bonding ritual as well, and what’s his face planned to propose to Melissa there. Thus ‘group celebratory bonding ritual’, not wedding.”

“You people never tell me fucking anything…” He sighed. “Still, shocked he’s who Claudia decided to get knocked up by… Not that there’s anything wrong with that, he’s a great guy. They just seemed… I don’t know…”

“Not compatible?” Cat picked his mind, staring inspectingly as she tended to.

“Yeah, I guess. Not her type at least.”

“After what happened, Claudia very much appreciated his pragmatic attitude, and having someone strong willed keeping her accountable. It wasn’t the first time she’d gravitated towards that sort of personality, particularly in romantic relationships.” Cat talked about it with a cold analytical detachment that still unnerved Chris even knowing her as long and as well as he did by now. “And besides, Melissa seemed quite committed to her high school sweetheart at the time, so…”

“Her choices were between the two teenagers?” He couldn’t help the lightest amount of amused criticism. Cat got that annoying “ well actually ” look. “I’m sorry, recently teenagers, kids she knew as teenagers, barely adults, whatever you want to call it…”

“She had practically raised Peter, Corrine and Lorri weren’t fond of commitment, nor am I, she wasn’t close with Jennifer, and you married Victoria . Unless you wanted her to make her sister her primary partner, Chris-”

“No, no, I get it, I get it.” He surrendered, giving a wave of his hand. “Just saying, optically , doesn’t seem great.”

“Noted.” She said dismissively, evidently eager to move off the subject. “So, what all did you tell him??”

“Dean? Well, clearly I didn’t realize who John was, so I didn’t say anything about him. Mostly talked about Claudia and Peter the entire time, besides accidentally slipping that Rosa exists, but I assumed Stiles told them. Apparently not.”

“That’s… manageable. How much did you tell them about Claudia?” 

“Not much at all. Claimed I didn’t know her too well, friend of a friend, and we’d spent some time together and that was it. Lied about- Well, said less than I knew about her and Talia’s whole thing. Just said Talia didn’t seem to mind having her around too much. Other than that, around our age, spanish descent, close with Peter, maybe sort of creative. That’s all. Nothing about us, nothing about any other supernatural ties, tried to push that she was human.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, starting to walk down the aisle again. Chris followed. “The age bit will probably be the biggest issue. On record, she was the same age as John. He’s visiting the sheriff’s office now. The new sheriff was close to John before Claudia, so I’m guessing she’ll probably confirm Claudia was older, unfortunately. But Melissa should hopefully be able to play it off as being a typo. But I’m not sure whether Stiles thinks they were the same age or not... Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. You keep your head down and mouth shut. Business as usual.” Cat directed. “Don’t want you getting yourself in trouble on our account.” She tacked on warmly- well , as warm as he’d ever heard her.

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Doubt he’ll tell me. Or ask me. Won’t want me knowing Stiles’ parentage. Which, perfectly fair, I guess... I’d probably hesitate to tell him if I was worried about Allison, and the Winchesters are much less trigger happy than our family.” 

“Stiles will be fine...” Cat was quick to say, seemingly more to herself, sounding a bit nervous compared to her usual.

“... I didn’t say he wouldn’t be.” Chris stopped, hesitating before putting his hand on Cat’s shoulder to turn her around, giving a glance around to make sure they weren’t being watched before giving her a reassuring stare. “Morrell, I promise you, no matter what Dean finds out… He’s not a threat. Not to Stiles, not to us. That is not something you have to worry about. He’s a friend. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t’ve vouched for him.”

“... I believe you, Chris.” She said, giving a surprisingly vulnerable sigh. “I’m less concerned with what he might do to Stiles, and more concerned with what he might tell Stiles if he keeps digging around…”

“He doesn’t know ?” Chris asked, letting go of Cat in shock. Cat shook her head, looking away, voice regaining detached composure.

“I’m not supposed to tell him until ‘I have to’. As in, until there are developments to… help him through...”

“Or, he finds out himself.”

“Or until he finds out himself…” She said with a minor air of defeated apprehension, as if she somehow knew that was what was coming. Maybe she did, he felt it would be rude to ask, not to mention the worry of a literal example of self fulfilling prophecy. “I worry about how he’ll react if he ends up finding out before I tell him…” Cat added, concern and conflictedness heavy in her tone. He certainly knew what that felt like, wondering if doing what you were told and going with the plan was the right thing to do, wondering what it might cost if you did. He’d do what he could to help keep it from happening or at least make it easier whenever it came time to tell him, but he didn’t know what he could really do. His relationship with Stiles already seemed tense as it was. And it’d be worse whenever he finally killed Derek. Might even cause him to… “ snap” so to speak.

“Cat…” He mused.

“ Chris. ” She hissed scoldingly.

“Do we really think he’s… like Claudia ?” He looked at her, reading her response. She froze up though, giving him nothing more than that she was shutting him out. “I mean, wouldn’t he be showing signs by now?”

“I have reason to believe he is. He presented symptoms when he was younger. They regressed as Claudia started fading though, and he hasn’t presented clear signs of awareness since they went dormant, as far as I know. I can’t see John keeping any developments from me, nor Stiles hiding them, so I assume he’s repressing it, and if he is, there’s no telling when he’ll come to. No guarantee he will. He’s old enough at this point that he could hypothetically repress symptoms until he hits maturity with little to no complications. Maybe even longer.” Cat said, honest as she clearly could be.

“Repressing? Like a bottling up kind of scenario, or???” Chris asked, worried.

“Not necessarily. It may be hard for him to deal with when he finds out, but it shouldn’t lead to any more inherently explosive results than he’d be naturally prone to. The ‘bottle’ as one might say, could just as easily gently overflow… It’s just a matter of how he chooses to deal with things and… manifest the energy he has… built up…” Cat answered, carefully dancing around what she meant. ‘I don’t know.’ He should’ve known that’d be all he’d get, he didn’t know what else he expected. Why would Stiles be any more predictable than his mother?

“Is it safe, having him around Allison?” He asked carefully, pleading for an honest answer. “I mean- I know it’s- but like… as safe as Claudia?”

“I have no reason to believe otherwise…” She seemed to think about it, but he couldn’t tell if it was the truth, which with Cat probably meant it wasn’t. “Might even be less volatile, depending on how he develops.”

“And if you thought I’d be a threat to him if he was a threat to her, would you lie to me?”

“Oh, absolutely.” She looked to him, completely open and honest. “I don’t think you’d be stupid enough to be a threat to him though.” She looked at him with the eyes of a friend at odds, the way hunters looked at each other when asking if their friend had been bitten. “I think you know what I’d have to do if you were.”

“Of course.” He gulped, thankfully for the indication she was probably being at least mostly honest, but still unnerved by the implicit threat. She gave a nod.

“It could be vaguely possible he lost his ‘spark’ entirely when Claudia died. It’s unlikely, given she passed naturally within the expected timeframe, but if he did lose it, he’d be… more or less human, besides perhaps some physical consequence. At the very least he certainly wouldn’t remember. He’d essentially have a clean slate. If not…” She glanced at him probingly, clearly priming him for a request. 

“He’s a ticking time bomb?” Chris joked instead, a lot more comfortable joking about the prospect now, since Cat seemed pretty sure it wouldn’t be the case, despite her uncertainty about what would be.

“... I was going to say, then some help guiding him will be very beneficial. Particularly from someone I can trust to keep their mouth shut, and keep him safe…” He could practically feel the verbal nudge she was giving him along with the compliments.

“Why do I feel like I’m being automatically volunteered?” He balked a bit of a laugh.

“Why thank you for volunteering, Chris .” She said with a smile, patting him on the back as they stopped at the milk.

“I have a feeling he’s not going to be very keen on my guidance and protection once I off his boyfriend though...” Chris decided to be blunt, side eyeing her. “Been meaning to get your opinion on that.”

“Mm… That would cause some waves, I’m guessing…” Cat gave a contemplating look at nothing in particular, not questioning him at all.

“But?” Chris asked, feeling like Cat was getting at a “but”.

“But… given our past mixed experience with the Hales, it might be best for our little proverbial pack if he was out of the way, one way or another… Whether your suspicions of him are correct or not. If he takes after Talia, him seeing Stiles will inevitably cause… trouble.”

“Mischief, one might say?” Chris joked. Cat glared at him. “Oh, calm down. It’s a word .”

“One you shouldn’t poke at the meaning of so lightly, especially with tensions as high as they are, and an abundance of your own hunters in town.” She scolded.

“Everyone thinks we’re dead and gone, Morrell. No one’s listening for that name anymore. Anyone who cared to, already stopped bothering years ago, I’m sure.”

“ How sure? ” She snapped, obviously not pleased with his flippantness.

“Very sure, because no one was trying harder than my family . Same goes for the rest of you, except maybe Corrine. We barely even tell new recruits about Los Lobos as anything more than a ghost story, occasionally a cautionary urban legend. We’re safe, Cat, I’m sure. ”

“ Right… ” She hissed sarcastically. “Sure enough to bet Stiles’ life on it? Or Peter’s? Or Melissa’s?? Maybe Allison’s, or Victoria’s?? Because that’s what’s at risk if that name hits the wrong prying ears with any association to any of us , Chris…” She insisted with certainty that made Chris anxious in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. “At least until he’s ready.” Chris didn’t know why that was what made a pit drop in his stomach.

Chapter Text

Unsurprisingly to Stiles, Scott’s performance didn’t improve much the next round... or the one after that. It was two parts painful, one part frustrating, one part absolutely hilarious . Stiles managed not to laugh though, mostly via the pain and frustration. Even Jackson’s amusement died down, replaced, it seemed, by pity, sympathetic cringing, and a touch of boredom. Derek had learned constructive criticism wasn’t apparently wanted from him. Scott didn’t do great with the stuff as it was, which he’d worked on slightly over recent years, but clearly he still had some hard limits about where he’d accept it from, even growing increasingly frustrated with Jackson’s prodding, which were mostly the same things Derek had been suggesting, worded a tad more bluntly. 

Stiles really didn’t get why Scott had such a dramatic dislike of Derek specifically. He considered maybe it was something about being reminded of his dad, but Scott usually wouldn’t be direct enough to voice such issues outright, as with the jab from earlier. He was starting to think it was more of an issue of jealousy, of animosity born out of concern he’d lose Stiles to their relationship. He wouldn’t put it past Scott, he could get pretty possessive and anxious about his friendships. Stiles had half a mind to put them all out of their misery and voice the advice himself, even though he knew fuck all about what to actually do, just so Scott would actually listen to the other two. But he was equally tempted to let Scott suffer the whole round unless he figured it out on his own. Lydia seemed equally bemused and content letting Scott punish himself for his own lie, though she did seem to be completely throwing the round to even the playing field so he didn’t feel as bad. 

As a result though, the game had a pretty relaxed vibe. Everyone having peerage, Allison and Jackson’s fiery, competitive rivalry dampened by quarreling concerns over Scott… He and Derek mainly competing with each other, flirty teasing sparing now that he’d proven he did in fact know what he was doing, and both too distracted by the drama with Scott to focus much on Jackson or Allison’s performances, so they were both just giving words of encouragement and congratulations for each turn. Lydia had given them a few looks, but as far as he could tell she wasn’t glaring, so he assumed they weren’t being annoying yet. That or their over the top bordering on condescending praise of Scott was entertaining enough to make up for it. Stiles contemplated for a minute whether or not he was ready to give in and tell Scott what the others had been telling him all game. 

“You can do it, bud!!” He called, deciding to let him suffer at least a turn longer.

“We believe in you.” Derek echoed, a bit more genuine. Stiles smiled over at him, knowing it would still annoy Scott. “ What? ” Derek whispered to him, a little grin on his face, Stiles couldn’t tell if he was being just as mischievous as him or genuinely trying to be sweet, but it seemed like an adorable combination of the two.

“Nothin’. Just cute.” He fawned dismissively. For some reason, it got a tiny chuckle. 

“Shut up.” Derek murmured under his breath, giving a tiny nudge, as they both went back to watching Scott ready his ball nervously. He rolled and… missed completely, gutter ball right at the end… Again. Jackson’s face seemed genuinely, immensely pained. Stiles wouldn’t lie, he almost found that more entertaining than Scott’s own karma.

“ Stilinski. ” Jackson sighed with a quiet groan of impatience. 

“Yessum?” He answered mischievously, already knowing what Jackson wanted.

“Do something about your dumbass of a friend so we can actually play a decent round.”

“Oh, but why would I when I’m getting such delicious sadistic pleasure from watching you both suffer??” He asked snarkily, knowing Scott could hear them, but getting the feeling he was fine with that position if Jackson was also suffering.

“ Because I’ll hit you, nerd. ” Jackson ground out, boredly.

“Assuming I’m not just as much a masochist as I am a sadist is a deadly mistake, Whittemore .” He countered, obviously amused, as Allison decided to apparently go give him some pointers instead. Jackson just rolled his eyes. Derek gave a bit of a laugh at his quip, but a nudge too, leaning in to speak lowly to him.

“Seriously, if he doesn’t get better soon, please put him out of his misery and just tell him what to do…” Derek pleaded, the tip of his nose brushing Stiles’ jaw in a way that made him feel so weak. It still made him smile, but he sighed for show.

“Of coooourse… What was it? Throw it harder and make sure he’s not angling his wrist?” He asked, wanting to make sure he gave the right advice.

“I mean… you’re an amazing bowler, don’t you know?” Derek didn’t seem to be teasing with that one, but genuinely confused that he didn’t have critiques of his own to share. 

“Hey, man, I just whip the pretty ball down the wood bit, and I let the bowling gods decide the rest.” He jokingly explained, as Allison hurried back, sitting back down with optimistic anticipation. She didn’t say anything to them about their chat or Scott, but Derek didn’t seem to have any adverse reaction to their little chat, so he assumed it was uneventful. At least until, Scott looked back at the lane away from a glance at Allison, and Derek’s arm suddenly was in front of his abdomen, as if getting ready to protect him or keep him from running forward. He glanced at Derek's face as discreetly and quickly as he could. His eyes were fixed on Scott and his every movement, looking serious and concerned, but Scott only approached the lane. Stiles took the initiative to take Derek’s hand with his own, so his arm across him would seem less suspicious, figuring he could let go quickly if Derek needed to get up to stop Scott from doing something. Derek spared a glance, and relaxed a bit while staying alert, Stiles assumed realizing he was being too obvious. They both watched attentively as Scott stepped forward, took a breath, and took another quick step forward rolling the ball down the aisle, hard and, by effect, quick. This was confirmation enough for him that Scott was okay, and he relaxed, laying his head on Derek’s still tense shoulder. Scott had probably used his wolfie powers to figure out what he needed to do, and it just freaked Derek out. He got confirmation as Scott turned, with a proud goofy smile and normal brown puppy dog eyes, once all the pins had been laid out. Derek relaxed back into the seat next to him, grabbing his hand back and giving a squeeze. Allison made giddy cheering noises, congratulating him on getting his first strike, too busy giving a shocked gasp and laugh to actually say anything. “Awesome roll, Scotty boy!!” He offered instead, enthusiastic even knowing how he managed it. Only then did it hit him that Scott had managed to control his powers on command, and his face turned a bit shocked. He got close to Derek’s ear before whispering, barely audible. “ What’d she say to get him to control it like that?? ” He looked to Derek’s face since he couldn’t hear as well as Derek, which would make any answer way more obvious than the question. Derek clammed up, opening his mouth as if he didn’t know what to say, apparently not wanting the answer to reach prying ears. The soft blush creeping on Derek’s face pointed toward it being something inappropriate rather than just sensitive information, so Stiles relaxed against him again, signaling he didn’t have to answer. Unfortunately, Lydia seemed to have the same question.

“ What did you say to him?? ” She leaned over to ask as Scott came back, a bewildered look on her face. Allison was equally as speechless as Derek, though clearly proud on top of the slight embarrassment and dumbstruckness. 

“I, uh, I just… gave him something to think about…” Allison answered vaguely. Lydia looked away bewildered, back at Jackson, who looked like he was trying to solve the zodiac case. Stiles didn’t know what to do, watching gears turn in Jackson’s head. He put his hand over his mouth, not knowing what else to do with it that wouldn’t be suspicious. He looked around trying to think of something to say to distract Jackson from his thoughts. His eyes landed on Juliet with just a glance, not wanting to get caught when he realized he was staring at nothing. He gave a soft snap, down by the floor. Derek pulled his arm away as he let go of his hand, but it wasn’t really his biggest concern right now. He glanced back to make sure he had Juliet’s attention. She was indeed standing, bobbing her head at him excitedly, waiting for an order. He gestured vaguely with his head over toward a ball rack, acting like he was adjusting his neck, but being sure to look to her then it then back to her before looking away, hoping she’d get it, or at least realize he needed her to do something similar. He returned his attention to the group, Allison and Scott cutely cooing back and forth among themselves over the good roll, Lydia seeming to have mostly brushed it off, Derek seemingly being onto what he was worried about, though if he was also worried he was much better at hiding it, and Jackson, giving Scott a skeptical glare. Stiles bit his lip as Jackson seemed to finally be forming a coherent suspicion to voice. 

And just as his mouth opened, went the echoing crack of thick sturdy wood breaking with easy force, and the thunderous clacking and then wood again as the balls fell down to the next layer breaking that shelf, and so on and so on, five layers worth, only to end with the shelf falling over. The entire time Stiles watching Juliet bound about excitedly watching what she successfully orchestrated, weaving around people who approached to try to stop the mess to no avail. Welp, he was just as distracted as everyone else, but it was a successful distraction nonetheless. He glanced to Scott and Derek to gauge how much they were giving away of seeing something everyone else wasn’t. Scott was clearly, to him at least, trying very consciously not to yell at Juliet for what she’d clearly done, but Stiles didn’t suppose anyone would realize that. Derek just had his hand on his mouth in general horror and shame. Stiles tried his best to communicate a subtle shrug with a facial expression to... he didn’t know how much success. Derek just nudged him, giving a seemingly worried look at the floor behind him. He turned to see what more had transpired only to see two sources of movement coming toward him… Juliet, and a bowling ball she apparently decided to nose across the floor to him, seeming very pleased as it gently booped his ankle and he hesitantly picked it up, hoping no one noticed. He felt bad that he couldn’t praise her, or explain he didn’t in fact want a bowling ball, just wanted her to mess with them. But she seemed so pleased with herself and sure she did a good job, he couldn’t be unappreciative, so he took it, using it as a further distraction. “Hey, look at that, it’s just my size.” He quipped to Derek, showing him the number embossed in the black marble patterned ball with silver glitter. When he looked up to him, he’d swear Derek was using every ounce of restraint he had not to glare concerned daggers at him.

“Nice…” Derek muttered, face twisted subtly in worry, but going with it, not really having any other choice. “Weird, but nice.” He nodded in agreement, as if nothing paranormal had just happened.

“I oughta use it.” He remarked to the group in general, then making eye contact with Jackson to get his attention even more. “Might be lucky.” He shrugged with a smirk at Jackson, getting up to take his turn, ignoring Jackson’s further bewildered expression following him. Allison gave a shrug, as he passed. He had to assume she didn’t know about her dad’s line of work. He hadn’t gotten to pry much, and even still he wasn’t sure how great an actress Allison was, but he couldn’t help but think about this stuff more now that he knew about it and that his “family” were hunters. No way she could so easily brush off something obviously strange like that if she knew. He rolled, hit a little too far to the right, and only the right 8 pins fell. He gave a bit of a chuckle. “Guess not!” He called back at the others. Picking up the other to use once the pin rack set the pins back down. He managed a spare. “Quicker, at least.” He muttered aloud.

~!~

They were almost done with the first game, and Jackson already seemed to be agonizingly bored. That or aggravated, but Derek was getting more annoyed vibes. Like he just… wasn’t having fun. He supposed maybe because there was no longer the distraction of Scott’s inability. He could see that. It had more or less devolved into the six of them just taking turns rolling a ball down the lane, occasionally making a remark to each other, and lightly flirting with their respective dates. Derek didn’t know if Lydia was intentionally still throwing, or if she just thought it was more fun having Jackson “help her”. It did get the two smiling more than the competitiveness that had arisen with Scott’s improvement did… Well at least, got Jackson smiling more. Lydia seemed to be enjoying both a fair amount. It seemed to him that despite Jackson’s posturing and teasing, Lydia enjoyed competition way more, at least in this respect.

“That is… seriously amazing…” Allison fawned as Scott came back to sit down, and Stiles went up to take his turn. The two casually high fived, grabbing and holding on as Scott sat down with a smug smile. “Uh, Jackson… How many strikes is that?” Allison either didn’t notice the tone shift or didn’t care, leaning over to ask Jackson teasingly. Jackson sighed before readjusting to look at the screen.

“It’s six…” He ground out, turning a still skeptical, but significantly dulled glare at Scott. “In a row…” Fuck . He supposed he’d have to have a talk with Scott later about restraint and sportsmanship. He wouldn’t bother with it now. Not only would it be suspect if they wandered off, he also didn’t want to spoil Scott’s fun for tonight. He got up as Stiles came back, gently grazing his hand as he passed to go take his turn. Derek’s attention was pulled from his roll, as Lydia suddenly stopped radiating jovial energy, and he whiffed it, hitting an embarrassing 3 pins. He turned as he waited for his ball to return and the pins to set. She was looking at Jackson as he stared off into space. He wanted to ask what was wrong on impulse, but knew better. Besides, it was probably just her reacting to Jackson being in a mood. It would be weird if he drew attention to it. He turned his attention back to his frame, listening idly to the conversation in the back of his mind.

“Something just finally clicked, I guess.” Scott brushed off. It wasn’t a bad lie, but it was a bad excuse. Allison and Lydia didn’t seem perturbed though, and Jackson didn’t seem like he was going to be convinced, so he didn’t suppose it mattered. 6 pins. Oh well. At least he wasn’t pulling a Scott and doing too well.

“Maybe it’s natural talent.” Allison countered, seeming proud of him. Derek smiled at that as he came back.

“If you’re throwing…” Stiles murmured to him with a cheeky smile as he came back.

“What, and inflate your ego? Never.” He laughed, wanting to keep quiet to not interrupt the others’ conversation, but wanting to make sure he was loud enough for Stiles to make out. He’d completely missed Lydia turning around after she got up, surprised to see her facing Scott as he sat down and returned his attention to their company.

“I could use some natural talent…” She drawled, seeming to be approximating a sweet tone, but not quite on point. “Mind helping me out this time, Scott?” She asked, quirking her head to the side and giving a smile. 

“Uh-... Nah, I think you’re good.” Scott reassured, clearly not picking up on Lydia trying to change up the dynamics, and not seeming to think twice about it. “Go for it!” Lydia didn’t seem pleased with Scott’s lack of cooperation, straightening her shirt and giving a terse smile.

“Well… Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She said with a heavy ounce of frustration, before turning to approach the lane. 

“Sorry, babe, I can help, I was just-” Jackson sighed, moving to get up, snapping out of what had apparently been a dissociation fit. 

“You’re good, hun, I’ll try on my own this time.” Lydia ground out in an unnervingly determined, confident tone, as she grabbed her pink ball off the return. Jackson sat back down, radiating apprehension. She rolled without pause, delivering a strike as if it was nothing. “ Yes!” She exclaimed under her breath as she made a celebratory gesture, before coming back to sit down. “I... think I’m getting the hang of this.” She lied. It wouldn’t have been a bad lie were it not for the sudden tone shift from humble deference to jovial confidence.

“Aye! Way to go, Lyds!” Stiles exclaimed proudly, though he didn’t give off any signs of genuine surprise.

“Yeah.” Derek offered faking a bit of a laugh, hoping to just brush off the elephant in the room and defuse the tension in the air. “Talk about natural talent, that was like perfect form!”