Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/907619.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Allison_Argent/Scott_McCall, Hints_of
      Scisaac_later_in_the_story, Melissa_McCall/Sheriff_Stilinski
  Character:
      Laura_Hale, Cora_Hale, Peter_Hale, Talia_Hale, Melissa_McCall, Chris
      Argent, Gerard_Argent, Lydia_Martin, Danny_Mahealani, Almost_everybody_is
      in_this
  Additional Tags:
      depictions_of_violence, Injuries/Death, Scent_Marking, Mating_Bond,
      Angst, Hales_are_alive, Werewolf_Rituals, Dream_visions,
      Protective!Derek, Knotting, Pining, Cum_Marking, Hurt/Comfort
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-01 Updated: 2013-08-27 Chapters: 5/? Words: 24358
****** Parallel ******
by Belkiney
Summary
     Stiles had what every teenager wanted; a new job, good grades, and a
     drama free existence. So what if he coasted under the radar unnoticed
     by anyone but his best friend, Scott is all he needs anyway! He was
     going to make it through high school in one piece, but what was that
     line about best laid plans? Gangly aft agley wasn't even scratching
     the surface.
Notes
     I kind of abandoned another story of mine, (sorrynotsorry), and wrote
     this instead. It's my baby and I'm supes excited to be sharing it.
     Special thank you to my betas Breanna, Kevin, and Sam who've edited
     through it with positivity<3
     Edit: I just added a bunch of tags! I'm sorry if I've turned anyone
     away but those characteristics fit really nicely into the plot for
     later chapters. (Also, sue me, but I like those elements of the
     TeenWolf Fandom) Love you guys!!
***** Chapter 1 *****
          The Imperial March, though one of Stiles’ favorite songs, was blaring
abrasively at him from under his under his pillow. He shoved a hand under there
trying to feel around for the damn thing. How his phone always managed to wedge
itself into a hiding place first thing every morning escaped him.
          He pulled it out to look at the harsh blue-white of the screen only
to glare at it’s contents. Flashing at him in a cheery little pop up was “
Obstreperous - noisily and stubbornly defiant “. How wonderful. He shrugged the
phone onto his bed side table planning to worry about that stupid application
that Scott keeps downloading after another few hours of sleep. His best friend
just had no appreciation for sleep. Stiles could function on one hour of sleep,
but hated it. Maybe it was his own fault for staying up until the world was
soft with the first rays of morning. Nah, besides it was Saturday.
          The blanket was tucked under his chin and Stiles felt his body relax
into the warmth of it when the March started up again. He swore under his
breath fighting through the cocoon of blankets to grab at his phone.
            Dont b stupid get up u have work in 2 hours.  Stiles groaned loudly
throwing himself back against his pillows. Work. The job Scott insisted that he
get, something about expanding his horizons past chips and Halo. Today was his
first day and it would look terrible if he didn’t show up. Not to mention
watching the proud look on his father’s face would melt away if he simply
didn’t go and Stiles couldn’t stand that. Damn.
          Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed quick fingers typed out
response.
          I was already awake. Getting ready now actually. I’ll call you after
so we can get linner.
          liar linner? His phone roused into another go of The March but Stiles
tapped the screen quickly. You can only hear that song so much in twenty
minutes.
           Yeah, you know, lunch and dinner? A meal generally served in between
lunch and dinner time. I guess it could be supper though if you were talking to
Tolkien. Oh! We need to find an excuse to go to elevensies.
          Three dots popped up signalling Scott was typing, then disappeared
like he changed his mind on what to say. Instead a simple whatevr man call me
was his answer. He quickly switched the phone to silent and forced himself
toward the bathroom. It was definitely his own fault for agreeing to work at a
place that opened at 7.
 
 
===============================================================================
 

          Stiles pulled into the open parking lot and veered behind the cafe
where he’d been told employees could park. His Jeep rattled to a stop and gave
a sound that sounded like a cough. This is why he needed this job, Stiles
reminded himself trying to justify the ungodly time it was. His baby needed
some TLC. But god it was early, the first signs of yellow light weren’t even
cresting over the mountains yet and everything was cast in a constant purple-
gray shadow.
          Walking around the the front where the door was propped open with a
metal chair for staff he let his eyes wander over the rest of the vehicles.
Most were Beacon Hills standard. Old, rusty, or beat up with a few newer models
sprinkled in. He wasn’t expecting to see the sculpted cherry red perfection
parked off to the side of the building. You don’t see a late ‘60s Mustang
Fastback everyday and it gleamed, seriously gleamed, in the early morning
light. The chrome accents easily reflected line down the cars smooth planes.
Someone was driving around with porn on wheels. Stiles allowed himself to stare
at it for a few seconds more his hand clenching subtly with the want to touch.
Maybe the it was the owners car? Doubtful he didn’t think this place couldn’t
turn over that much of a profit.
 
          Inside he immediately knew that it wasn’t in fact his boss’ car. This
wasn’t his first time inside Bubba’s Bagels but this was the first time he’d
seen the scenes of the whole operation. The scant few employees rushed around
pulling bagels off of racks and loading them into the display cases, loading
drinks into coolers and doing general prep work for the madness. Stiles’ felt
nervous energy coil in his gut then because he’d seen this place busy and it
was pure insanity. Bubba’s was cheap and the best place in a fifty mile radius
for bagels so naturally everybody flocked here.
          Right as the first trickle of doubt and inadequacy trickled into
Stiles a man came around the counter with a cheery smile. He was that dark
shade of blond that was neither really blond or brown and his hair was a curly
mess like he’d been spending more time running his hands through it then
anything else. The apron wrapped around him was covered in flour and other
kitchen smudges and when Stiles met his eyes there was only open welcomeness in
the blue.
          “I’m Isaac, you’re the newbie,” the man looked pained for a second,
“You’re name um.. Vu -”
          “BLAHDUHGEYBLA,” Stiles shouted realizing the disaster that was about
to occur. Of course they’d know his real name he’d scrawled it impatiently on
all of the applications, “Stiles. My name is Stiles.” His eyes might have been
a little wide.
          The blond, Isaac, gave him a quick once over like he was questioning
his sanity. Stiles was right there with him. Good way to start the day,
screaming at people.
          “Well, um, so today because its your first day we are just going to
put you on cream cheese duty because it’s really simple.”
          Stiles just nodded and followed Isaac behind the counter where he was
shown the proper amount of spread, a lot, that got but on each bagel and how to
work the toaster. Simple stuff. After nearly twenty minutes of being walked
through the different kinds of bagels and spreads Isaac left him to worry over
something in the back with a quick reminder that the place opened momentarily.
If someone came in just to greet them and ask what they wanted while he waited
for Isaac or Su. Su was a tiny asain women who marched around like everybody
was an inconvenience to her. She hated everyone equally with the exception of
Isaac who blew kisses at her when she marched by carrying baked goods.
          Stiles reached into his counter full of cream cheeses to stir them
trying to find something to do with his hands. His stomach grumbled painfully.
Showing up to work on an empty stomach when you get to stare at bread all day
was not a good idea.
          The bell on the door tinkled softly causing Stiles to jerk up a touch
too quickly. The spoon in his hand going skidding across the floor. He
scrambled to grab it and dropped it into the bucket on the floor label “Fallen
Spoons of War”. Knowing it happened at lot should have been less mortifying. It
wasn’t.
          Stiles felt the heat rise to his cheeks as he leveled himself with
the customer. Clasping his hands firmly in front of him he grinned broadly and
forced out a cheery hello. Naturally, she was standing there with an amused
grin plastered across unfairly full lips that were painted the same shade of
cherry red as the car outside. She was looking at him so intently Stiles
wondered if she had x-ray vision and could see right through his flimsy white
apron.
          “Hi.” She offered simply closing the gap between the counter and the
door in two easy strides. Her boots barely clicking against the hardwood floor
despite the heavy looking leather and clasps.
          “Erm.. Can I get you anything.”
          “I’ve a standing order with Isaac. Are you the new kid they hired?”
Like that was any kind of answer.
          “Yeah. Today is my first day.”  She closed her eyes and inhaled
deeply. Weird. Okay, maybe not it did smell amazing. Yeasty and warm like fresh
baked dough so Stiles brushed it off as her really liking bagels. Now it was
quiet and awkward, two things Stiles hated.
          “Is that your car out there? It’s really awesome but must have cost a
fortune.” He blurted out instantly praying that Isaac would come around the
corner and save him. Wasn’t he only meant to be gone for a minute or two?
          “Oh, that thing?” She said it like someone talking about an old
bathrobe. It took Stiles a minute to realize the curve of her mouth meant she
was teasing, “It’s makes my little brother die with jealousy. He’s got some
plastic piece of crap.” Her eyes were still steadily trained on him. Creepy.
          “-- Just put it somewhere. I don’t need it -- Oh! Hi, Laura!” Isaac
looked sheepish and he glanced between the two.
          The woman, Laura, cocked her head to the side and shrugged moving
over to standing in front of the cash register. Isaac was already busy pulled
several massive brown bags of bagels and two huge tubs of cream cheese out of
the fridge. Laura’s presence was tangible as she watched Isaac. Not
intimidating or frightening but there was a strength to her that Stiles
recognized now that she wasn’t crowding him making him feel awkward. Isaac
didn’t seem bothered by it as he rang her up with his goofy grin.
Sliding her card across the counter Laura leaned in and whispered something to
Isaac so softly Stiles couldn’t dream of hearing it. They both cast a glance at
him. Just a microsecond of a look before they were back to normal. Handing the
receipt over Isaac gave a little wave. She left quickly after waving over her
shoulder and waving to both of them in turn. The two stood there in silence
watching her head toward her car where two other people at suddenly sprung up.
They weren’t there when Stiles eyeballed the car earlier but now a man with
dark features was propped against the drivers side door like a model. The
other, a girl who looked like a mini Laura, had the audacity to sit on the hood
leaning her back against the windshield. The three got into the car and drove
away leaving Stiles thinking they looked like a gang. The next time he saw
Laura he was going to have to ask her where her T-Bird jacket and comb were
hidden.
 
          Just as Stiles was about to turn and ask about it the bell on the
door tinkled and a couple came through. He leveled Isaac with a look that he
hoped looked serious instead of constipated. Isaac gast his eyes down but a
smile pulled at his lips. That bastard. After that there wasn’t a break. People
streamed endless through the front doors and that damn bell was going to have a
Pavlov affect on him soon. It just never stopped tinkling and being happy. The
press of customers never seemed to stop either. He got lost so frequently in
the orders that Isaac had pushed him toward the cash register and taken his
place at the cream cheese. The register was easier, all he had to do was push
buttons and take money. It was so busy that Stiles couldn’t have been happier
when he glanced at the clock to see that his day was over. Isaac waved him out,
handling the now slow trickle of people with the ease of practice.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
          “Aw, man! You didn’t bring me a bagel or anything!” Scott whined
pitifully from his passenger seat. Stiles had swung by after work to pick him
up for linner.
          “We are going to get food you idiot why would I bring you food? That
makes about as much sense as kosher ham.”
          “Kosher - what?! I don’t even know what that means.” Scott threw his
arms into the air in some grand gesture of exasperation. P-lease, he was an
amatuer at dramatics and it made him look stupid enough that Stiles was
laughing. Scott shoved roughly at his shoulder.
          “I hate you. Whatever, was it a good day though? My first day at the
vet I got puked on by like seven different cats so I know it wasn’t that
horrible.”
          Stiles shrugged turning his jeep onto the highway, carefully ignoring
Scott’s whines of protest when he realized they weren’t just going to go to
Taco Bell. If what they served at school was questionable Stiles didn’t even
want to know what was actually in his bean burrito.
          “The first customer of the day was weird. She stared at me for the
longest time before picking up the biggest order of bagels I’ve ever seen.”
          “Maybe she has a big family.”
          “It was enough food to feed a pack of wolves so her family has got to
be massive. At least sixteen people. Or maybe she just is desperately in love
with bagels so it’s the only thing she eats.” Stiles was rambling now about how
hard it would be to maintain her athletic physique if all she ate was bagels.
Scott was dutifully pretending to listen while typing away on his scratched up
blackberry. Probably that girl he’d been obsessing over sense school had
started back up.
 
          When they were finally seating inside The Roxy at one of the homey
little booths surrounded by faded pictures of celebrities national and local
with massive hamburgers sitting in front of them Scott grinned and cleared his
throat purposefully. Stiles cocked an eyebrow between shoving curly fries into
his mouth.
          "There is a party tonight. A bonfire actually. Jackson Whitmore is
putting it on like always.”
          Yeah, and every year they weren’t invited. That bonfire was a massive
celebration of how much money and popularity Jackson had. He used it as an
excuse to show off that he was dating Lydia Martin who obliged by torturing
Stiles with painfully short skirts. He adored Lydia, more than he ought to and
she would remain the only female he’d hold out for. From the way Scott was
looking at him Stiles was willing to bet he’d just said most of that outloud.
          “This year we have an invite, my friend.”
          “What, how? Who did you kill, Scott! I can’t be involved, my dad is
the Sheriff!”
          “Oh my god, Stiles, no! I guess Lydia invited Allison and said she
could bring a few friends.”
          “So, really we didn’t get an invite, but the girl you swoon over is
taking pity on us.”
          “Yeah, kinda.” Scott didn’t look any less excited as he bit off
another massive chunk of his burger.
          “Fine, when is it?” Because really, he wasn’t going to turn down the
offer because just being there was enough to get people talking to you.
          “Uh, we’d have to pick up Allison because she knows where it is but,”
He looked outside where the sun was starting to dip below the mountains. Fall
in Northern California means it got dark fast. ,”As soon as it gets dark.”
          “So me picking you for lunch was an elaborate scheme to get me to
play chauffeur for you and your Bonnie Lass?”
          “No, man, I would have brought you along anyway!”
          “Yeah, me and my jeep!” Stiles accused, pointing at Scott with a
curly fry who only laughed and threw a pickle at his head.
 
          An hour and one angry waitress later. Stiles, Scott and Allison were
piled into his blue jeep and heading down Highway 5. They’d ran into Danny and
few other people they knew from school at the gas station. It looked like
nearly everyone was going to be there tonight. Stiles could imagine Jackson
preening with delight. Lord knew that his head needed to get bigger.
          Allison was straddling the middle seat leaning forward to rest her
chin on Scott’s shoulder as the two of them kept up a running conversation.
Normally talkative Stiles felt like the third wheel. He liked Allison but Scott
always had a one track mind. The feeling of his best friend being somehow
occupies elsewhere wasn’t like a hard rock in his chest. Nope. He didn’t feel
that way at all.
          “Stiles, do you even know where you are going?” Scott chided giving
Allison a look like a disdainful parent.
          “I just figured I’d follow the train of teenagers heading up the
Preserve to illegally smoke and drink and hope we don’t pick up a cop along the
way.” Stiles rolled his whole head with his eyes. How more people didn’t get
caught he had no idea.
          “Part of the Preserve is Hale property so unless they complain the
cops won’t show up. And, Lydia said that they never come out this far anyway.”
At that the three of them looked out of the windows to where they were bordered
on either side but a thick sweep of trees. They created darkness and shadows
where there wasn’t any and pressed against the shoulder of the road like they
might run out and block the way home.
          “That’s kind of spooky.” The car in front of them, Danny’s Subaru
Forester, began to slow down it’s right blinker light flashing. It pulled off
onto a dirt side road prompting Stiles to follow it before both came to a
completely stop far enough off the road that someone driving by wouldn’t be
able to see.  
          Danny was coming toward them then, the drivers side of his door left
open to illuminate the giggling girls sitting in the back and his boyfriend
talking animatedly. He reached the side of the Jeep a wide, pleasant smile
creeping across his face. Danny was always nice to everyone thus, everyone
adored him. He was one of those people that was genuinely made of a heart of
gold.
          “We are going to go pretty slow. My subi can handle a lot but I don’t
want to explain to my parents why I scratched it all up.” He patted the side of
the Jeep and Stiles would have been offended if it wasn’t the truth. His Jeep
was scratched all to hell in back without mentioning the giant dent he’s put in
it with a lawn mower. That’s a different story though.
          “No problem, we’ll follow along behind you.” Allison chirped before
Stiles could get a word out. Gah, people and their volunteering of his baby.
          “Stay close it gets pretty thick.” Stiles only nodded at Danny’s
retreating back and looked into the trees to his left.
          His heart stopped. Molten gold eyes were staring back at him. He
couldn’t place the stare but it was so familiar. He scrambled in the front seat
trying to get his seat belt off before plunging from the vehicle and into the
night. Scott was saying something, confused as Stiles started to dive off the
dirt road and into the trees. No more than six feet into the thicket he
stumbled over a root and was quick to steady himself. Stiles jerked his head up
quickly, too quickly and his world spun for a moment. He’d lost his orientation
long enough for whatever it was to leave. No golden eyes were staring back him
now and Stiles’ could have sworn he’d seen a flash of blue just as he was
beginning to fall.
          He heart hammered in his chest now that the adrenaline of it was
wearing off. Why had he run toward those eyes anyway? He wondered. This was
obviously not very well thought out. Stiles turned to see Scott, Allison and
Danny standing in the pool of light from his Jeep’s light watching him with
wide confused eyes. Even the girls in the back of Danny’s car had settled down
to stare at him balefully through the back windows. Way to go Stilinski. Didn’t
think that one out did ya?
          “I just... I thought I saw something.” He called back in a way he
hoped sounded casual as he walked back toward the little group.
          They didn’t stop standing dumbfounded into he had climbed back into
the drivers seat without so much as a word of explanation. He tapped his
fingers impatiently on the steering wheel trying to control the rise of heat
against his neck.
          “Are we going or not?”, Stiles was aiming for casual again but was
pretty sure he was off by a mile or nine. The three shared a look and got back
into the respective vehicles.
          Stiles was easing up the dirt road behind Danny before Scott broke.
          “What the fuck was that, dude? Have you lost your mind?” He nearly
shouted. Allison squeaked behind them and Stiles wasn’t sure if it was being
was the swearing or the shouting. She looked like she’d mind both.
          “I thought I saw something okay!”
          “So you ran out of the car towards it? How did that even compute?”
          “They were eyes! Gold eyes like.. I don’t know. Like an animals eyes
but they were too high. Looking at me evenly from nearly the same height.”
          “Again, so you ran towards them?!” Now Scott really looked
exasperated, his eyes too large just to be angry. He’s been scared. Shit. It
had been a few months since his last panic attack which had been a mild one but
that wouldn’t stop Scott from worrying.
          “Dude, I’m sorry. I just thought I saw something and it got the
better of me. I had to know. Curiosity killed the Stiles.”, He shrugged so hard
he felt his ear lobes touch his shoulders. Scott didn’t look happy but when
Allison’s hand came up to entwine with his he deflated.
          Naturally, freaking out and running into the woods was not something
healthy teenagers did. Or so said the general consensus. The story had been
told to everyone by the time they were pulling to a stop in the circle of cars
that surrounded another circle of makeshift wooden stumps and camping chairs
with a massive bonfire of pallets in the middle. Greenburg had probably secured
his invite when he’d promised to load as many pallets as he could get from his
dad’s shop into the back of however many 4x4s. That idiot.
           Everyone was either asking what he’d seen and demanding details he
didn’t have or making snide comments. The King of The Ball himself, Jackson,
made a joke about the Moth Man loud enough that everyone around the bonfire
laughed. A few clapped him on the shoulder teasingly. Stiles brushed it off as
best as he could thrilled when Scott pushed a red plastic cup filled with beer
into his hand.
          As the partiers descended into teenage drunkenness the story was
eventually, if not temporarily, forgotten. Stiles wasn’t feeling in the mood to
drink half torn between going to sit in his jeep and read the emergency book he
kept in the glove box by phone light or hunt down Scott and Allison. The book
would likely save him years of therapy.
          Unfortunately, the choice was made for Stiles at the sound of shrill
scream. It echoed across the clearing followed by a moment of absolute silence.
In their drunken state Stiles’ peers looked around at each other stupidly
before another scream erupted breaking the silence like glass. Everyone was
running. Fifty confused bodies pressing against each other trying to get away
from the sound, but Stiles pushed through the crowd toward the sound.
Suppressing the urge to yell as he saw several people who were in no condition
to be driving climb behind the wheel of cars.
          The girl, a sound that high had to be a girl, was screaming again and
figures hooded in shadow started to move along the tree line. Lightening quick
they outpaced Stiles immediately over taking him as he ran toward the danger.
This was becoming a habit. They were too far away to make out who, or what,
they were except that the bodies around him at least looked human. He glanced
to his right, his legs aching as acid burned through his muscles trying to keep
up. Gold eyes glared back and he sucked in a deep breath that rattled his lungs
painfully.
          Stiles had no idea what he was going to do as he got closer, the
screams having dissipated to painful moans and whimpering. The people, if they
were people, around him crouched down to surround one girl. She looked like she
was in excruciating pain. She had to be. Stiles head swamp with nausea just
looking at her. An arrow jutted out from the front of her shoulder, another had
sunk into the tanned skin of her stomach. Blood was pouring out of the wounds
in deep crimson rivulets and seeped into the clean gray of her sports bra. It
sunk into the fabric staining in an awful brown color that make him wretch.
          Beyond the arrows her whole body was convulsing tightly into itself.
Smoke rose from her body where she’d been splashed with something. Stiles
thought it might be acid and started to move closer. The figured around him
were ignoring him in favor of slowly moving closer themselves. Low growls and
little sounds of what have been sadness and horror were escaping from the
beings around him.
          A terrible thought dawned on Stiles as the closest thing, thing was a
safe word, moved within touching distance.
          “No!” He yelled pushing forward against shocked shoulders and
kneeling down directly by the girl. His vision went white around the edges.
Being this close to the blood he could smell the irony tang of it and it made
him sick. Thank god it was night time, in the sunlight that blood would be
unbearably alive and bright.
          A sharp growl drew his against to the group around him and he gulped
panic setting deep into chest and limbs. Human faces stared at him with open
hostility shining through golden eyes and one pair of startling blue eyes. Now
was not the time to congratulate himself on being right.
          What do you want?,” He sounded panicked, breathless as he moved to
ghost his fingers of the arrows but the next growl stopped. It shook the girls
chest enough that with his proximity Stiles felt it vibrate up his arms and
down his spine. Her eyes glowered down at him in the same shade of molten gold
as the rest.
          The gravity of what he just barreled into hit Stiles then as he
frantically looked around for anybody that didn’t was intense alien eyes. Of
course they wouldn’t be here, they had the intelligence to run away. No
towards.
          He jerked toward the girl again and had to choke back a hysterical
giggle, “Well, aren’t you guys going to help her?!” Stiles voice broke he so
was terrified. Sue him, right?
***** Chapter Two *****
Chapter Summary
     Was it some cosmic law that things only went from bad to worse? It
     was certainly starting to feel like it.
Chapter Notes
     Woo, chapter two!!! This is officially over 30k and growing so I'm
     posting the second chapter earlier because I'm just overly excited.
     Special thanks to Breanna, Kevin and Sam for reading it and being
     supportive. ALSO, Thanks so much to kawaiihitsuji for constantly
     listening to me gripe about Derek's pouty face.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
 
        A familiar sound dragged him from the darkness until Stiles had enough
of the The March and groped under the pillows trying to find the phone.
Nothing. He stuck his hand under the sheets looking for it. Nothing. The
offending song still blared and Stiles sat straight up in irritation. The damn
thing must have fallen off the bed in the middle of the night. Or not. He
looked around the room as the now all too familiar swirl of emotions cascaded
into his body: fear, confusion, anxiety take your pick.
        Stiles forced his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, that he was
thankfully still wearing, and clicked the screen to live. There, flashing like
a little piece of shit was:Otiose - serving no useful purpose; having no excuse
for being. Yep, that was exactly how he was feeling right now. He checked for a
signal. Nothing. He had a moment of panic as the weight of what had happened
settled against him. The people creature things had knocked him out with a
quick, yet efficient blow to his head and has clearly dragged him here.
        The bed he was in didn’t seem sinister at least. The frame was made of
heavy book stained so dark it was that black shade that could also be blue.
Soft gray sheets, black pillow cases, and a deep purple comforter made the
whole thing look like it had been pulled out of some high fashion interior
design magazine. The room around the bed was sparse. Glass french doors that
opened to a spacious walk in closet immediately across from the bed and two low
black bookcases stacked with books under massive heavily draped windows. The
drapes were a deep gray that blocked sunlight from entering the room keeping it
perpetually twilight. In these conditions Stiles could have slept for hours.
        Options were looking a little slim right about now. He could try to get
passed whatever guard they likely had between here and the door and sneak out
quietly. Thats an immediate no go because this is Stiles not James Bond and he
hurts himself getting out of bed sometimes. These people could simply be people
with nifty eyes and were only looking out for his well being so he could just
ask them to leave. Again not really an option. Finally, he could try to weasel
his way to get a phone that works and call his dad. Yes, that was a good plan.
Hell, they might just leave him somewhere once they know the father is the
Sheriff. There was also the panic attack option, even now Stiles could feel
it’s icey hold on him but he was determined to save that until later when he
was safely back in his room and could break down privately.
        Stealing his nerves Stiles went to try the door fully expecting to
wiggle the handle and it be locked. It wasn’t. Minus one for the kidnappers.
 The hallway leading to the wide stairs was tasteful, little metal holders with
candles sitting on them around what looked like hand painted family portraits.
He didn’t spend more than a second looking around before he was lowering
himself down the stairs. Each creak of the wood had him stopping, his breath
held tight in his chest. He wasn’t even sure what he was expecting to happen if
he got caught. He was definitely sure he didn’t want to find out.
        Down on the ground floor he stepped into a spacious living room
complete with trinkets and nicknacks. The sofas, three of them each a different
shade of brown with rustic looking blankets and pillows spilled across them,
and a coffee table even completed the whole home thing. Yet there was no one
around. The entire house just felt empty. Tension began to leak out of Stiles
shoulder at the idea that he was completely alone. He walked slowly through the
room careful not to touch anything or trip until he stood at the doorway. There
was no way it would be unlocked and it wasn’t when Stiles tried to wiggle the
handle, but with a flick of the deadbolt he pushed the door open easily.
        Stiles was more confused now than he was ten minutes ago. Were these
kidnappers really about to just let him, the Sheriff’s son, walk straight out
the house when he could tell people what he saw? Or, he stopped at the top step
of the patio and looked down, what he thought he saw? Had they just been trying
to protect him from whatever was out in the woods that had shot that girl with
arrows? Nothing made sense but he descended the steps anyway and turned from
the front of the house to  walk into the woods where the trees seemed the least
thick.
“You should probably drive, your jeep is over there.”
        Stiles jumped and the sound that came out of his mouth couldn’t be
described as anything but a shrill shriek. He turned quickly his foot caught in
the leafs kicking up a cloud of dirt behind him. Smooth. The girl from the
night before stood on the top of the steps where he had just been. She looked
healthy. No gushing wounds or blood stained shirt. Just a simply pair of linen
pants and too large shirt like she’d just rolled out of bed herself. The lines
of her face were smooth with youth but set into hard lines like she was trying
not to look angry when she was.
        “Who...”
        “That’s not the question you want to ask.” It was a sharp biting
answer.
        “I... what...” He lifted his hand dumbly trying to protest but the girl
just shook her head her high ponytail swaying.
        “Go home. Or don’t. I don’t care what you do. But you weren’t here.”,
she barked clearly irritated.
        Stiles opened his mouth and closed it the press of adrenaline against
his legs begging him to run. To get away quickly. His eyes darted over the area
until his eyes landed on his jeep. One of them must have driven it here after
they grabbed him. It was probably the only one left after everyone had ran off
so they put two and two together.
        He walked over to the jeep briskly. His thighs protesting against his
speed. Stiles certainly wasn’t running though, nope, not even a little bit as
he yanked open the drivers side door annoyed when it stuck on old hinged.
Sliding in he scrambled for the keys that were still in the ignition roughly
turning them and bringing the engine to a roaring start. The girl was there one
hand clamped down on the window sill where he’d left the windows rolled down.
She reached into the Jeep and grabbed his left wrist firmly in her hand. Stiles
tried to jerk away yet felt her squeeze tightly until the pressure against his
bone was just this side of unbearable. This crazy chick was going to break his
wrist if she didn’t stop.
        “I wanted to kill you. Save us all the trouble, but then they would
have marched right up this hill waving their precious code and damn us all. Not
to mention you’re off limits, can’t break someone else’s things. Bully for
you.” Maintaining direct eye contact her hazel eyes flashed to golden and she
pressed her fingers harder around his wrist until both of them heard the snap.
Stiles didn’t try to hide the cry the pain as he slammed his free hand against
the dashboard his fingers digging into the rough plastic surface.
        The moment she let down he pulled his broken wrist to his chest using
his non crippled hand to push the Jeep into reserve and floor it out of there.
Adrenaline was a great pain suppressant but it made him quick and jumpy.
Putting it into drive he hit the gas hard sending a spray of dirt and rocks
toward the house. He didn’t dare look anywhere but in his rearview mirror as he
flew down the dirt road sparing glances at his path just to make sure he didn’t
crash. He’d never been more grateful in his life to pull out of the dirt and
onto the smooth pavement of 49N. This was an area he was comfortable with and
the drive home would be easy. Slowing to a speed he could manage along with the
growing aching of his wrist he white knuckled the steering wheel.
        In a blink that Mustang was coming around the corner. Cherry fucking
red and glittering in the morning sunlight the woman, Laura or something,
winked at him like he was funny. Stiles was a mess, his hair sticking
everywhere looking both white with pain and flushed with panic. He probably did
look funny so he attempted a happy smile that he was willing to bet looked as
good as he felt. Watching Laura move past him his heart only bottomed out when
her blinker lit up and she turned down the dirt road he’d just barreled down.
 
===============================================================================
 
        Stiles couldn’t exactly tell you what order things happened next only
that it all flew by so quickly he doubted if any of it was even real. No sooner
had his keys touched the door to his house was the door flung wide and Stiles
was being pulled into his father warm embrace. He cringed as his wrist was
caught between the two of them. Something his father didn’t miss and pulled
away to examine while demanding to know who had hurt him this.
        “Stiles, son, I was terrified. Where have you been? I thought that you
were out there in the woods like that girl. We couldn’t find the Jeep.”
        “No dad, I’m fine. What girl?”
        “Were you attacked? Your wrist is broken! Who attacked you?”
        “Dad, I’m fine. What happened to the girl?!”
        The Sheriff pulled away his hands cupping Stiles’ shoulders at a
distant to get a full look at him. Satisfied with his once over a tired sigh
slipped out of him, “You know I can’t tell you.”
        “I’m going to find out anyway.”
        “I know,” His dad took his injury free wrist and began to pull him back
down the steps toward his patrol car, “We found a girl, from the next town
over. She was really ripped apart. The most savage animal attack I’ve ever
seen.”
        “Animals?” Stiles stuttered out hoping that he came off curious. It
wasn’t abnormal for him to be asking questions about a case.
        “Yeah I think, you didn’t see anything or hear anything when you were
out in the woods last night did you?” His dad’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of
a second but Stiles just shook his head and hoped the lie he was about to tell
wasn’t protecting murderers.
        He was dragged to the hospital before anything else could be said.
Scott was waiting looking like a lost puppy until he saw Stiles being pulled
along by the Sheriff. He perked up like a puppy and ran immediately to Stiles’
side reaching out an arm to clasp him tightly around the shoulders. Scott felt
hot and heavy against him and when Stiles tried to push him away with his free
hand his best friend barely moved only stepping away when he realized that
nurses were about to swarm. The nurses poked and prodded, resetting his wrist
and apply a cast only after nervously consulting his dad who was sitting in the
corner glowering. Sheriff Stilinski mode in full force.
        The nurses scrammed after that leaving Scott sitting on the little
plastic bed next to him and his dad in the corner chair. He pulled out a
notepad from his toolbelt of Justice, what Stiles had been calling it since
he’d seen too much batman in the 4th grade, and leaned forward prepared to
interrogate. The lie about his night poured out easier than Stiles had
expected. Stiles noted that a few times his Dad’s fingers clenched around the
pen as he relayed what happened. What didn’t happen actually. He said he’d
gotten too drunk to drive and must of fallen as he stumbled around and trying
to catch himself he put too much weight on his wrist which it was broke it. No
need to cloud the issue with facts. His dad leveled with him and Stiles knew
that his father knew he was lying, but if he just kept repeating it eventually
it would be accepted like the truth.
        In truth, after his dad had driven Scott and him back to the house and
begrudgingly left for work, he let himself feel the terror of the night as he
recounted the truth of his night to Scott. It was scary how in less than twelve
hours he’d been kidnapped, his wrist broken by some superhuman girl, and found
out that those thing walk around everyday like everything is just fucking
normal. It shook him to his core. It preoccupied his thought until he noticed
that Scott had cut the tv off and was looking at him nervously.
        “What?”, Stiles ventured knowing that look on Scott’s face all too well
and he wasn’t ready for another weight to be dropped on him.
        “Last night, when everyone was running around,” Scott began slowly
taking a deep breath at every change as if he was bracing himself. Stiles just
sat quietly waiting for his friend to tell him.
        “I was.. Uhh Allison and I were kinda messing around when we heard the
screaming. I told her to stay where we were, because it was dark, and I went to
check it out.”
        “Yes...”, Stiles’ voice was barely a whisper.
        “That girl or whatever was just screaming so I tried to get close, but
then this huge group of people started moving toward it too and I got scared
and turned to run back to Allison. I got lost and stumbled around for awhile. I
guessed I ended up back in the clearing because the fire was still smoulder a
little, ya know?” Scott was looking anywhere but at Stiles as if the pictures
and things in his house were suddenly interesting, “Out of thin air this giant
thing was running at me from the trees. I swear it had red eyes. Big glowing
red eyes. It running straight for me howling the whole time and I just stood
there like an idiot. And it uhh,” Scott’s fingers played at the hem of his
shirt as slowed his talking to a stop. He looked at Stiles expectantly before
giving up explaining all together and pulling the shirt over his head.
        Across Scott’s torso so a huge white bandage but it was clean like he’d
put it on for a halloween costume as he started to pick at the medical tape
pulling it away to reveal scars. Or what would eventually be scars. Stiles
reached out a hand to trace along the oval shape hesitating only for Scott to
nod him on.
        “What the...”
        “It bit me. Last night it was open and gnarly as hell. Blood everywhere
but I woke up like an hour later with Allison freaking out above me and it had
already started to heel over. Tender but like pink and closed like the first
few days after you scrape your knee reel bad.” Leave it to Scott to relate it
something that normal.
        “Scott, I can’t tell if you are stupid or lucky. A girl got killed last
night near where we were having the bonfire.”
        “I know! I overheard your dad talking on the phone in the hospital.
That is why I’m freaking out! What if what bit me killed her? I don’t even know
how to handle this? I can barely talk to my girlfriend successfully!”
        “Speaking of, did you tell Allison?”
        “No, I mean what was I supposed to say? I just pulled my shirt over it
and got into the car. She’d called her Dad to come get us. And man, that is one
serious dude.”
        Stiles would grill him about meeting the parents later, “It’s almost
healed what do you think it was?”
        “No idea, but this morning I can do things. Hear things too.”
        “What?” Stiles pulled away from touching his friend because it was
dangerously close to a line he didn’t want to get close to. To keep his hands
busy he pulled the down pillow next to him into his lap and began picking at
the feathers that stuck out from it making it prickly.
        “I don’t know. Like this morning I could hear my mom singing in the
shower from downstairs. With the tv on.”
        “That is just pervy.”
        “I wasn’t trying to listen in! I just heard it. In the hospital I
almost got a headache because of all the beeping and that god awful smell.”
        “What smell?”
        “I don’t know, death? I guess. It was hella gross. Don’t they ever
clean those hospitals?” The ridge of his nose crinkled as Scott remember the
smell none too fondly.
        “Scott, there could be something seriously wrong. We need to get back
to that hospital and take of blood. Run some tests. Something?!” Stiles nearly
shouted. He was pacing now, up and down the strip of open floor between his
coffee table and tv one hand pressed to his forehead.
        “But I feel fine. Great even. I wasn’t even tired after I ran to the
hospital to see you.”
        “You ran to the hospital?”
        “Yeah. It’s only what, three miles?”
        “Thre-- Three miles! Scott you should at least be tired after that!
Maybe whatever bit you has some kind of poison that forces your system to go
into overdrive. It could bust your heart! Man, you have got to go to a
hospital.”
        “I promise I will if I start to feel bad? I just don’t feel anything
but stronger, like I’m better.”
        Stiles pulled back, incredulous. It was inconceivable that his best
friend was just going to brush this off like it was nothing. His mother was
great in September but come January - Stiles slammed the door on that train of
thought before it got too far. That wasn’t going to happen again.
        “Three days! In three days if we haven’t figured out what bit you we
are marching straight into that hospital.”
        “Man..”
        “Deal?!?”
        “Fine, deal.”
        It wasn’t long after that that Scott left to pick up his mom from work
and head home. Stiles sat around for a while longers, taking a few more of his
pain meds for his wrist, before trudging up stairs to his bedroom. He stripped
down to his boxers, his new cast making his movement awkward and crawled into
the cocoon of his blankets. In bed it took only a him closing his eyes to drift
off to sleep. The events of the past few days crashed over him, exhausting.
===============================================================================
 
        A dream. This had to be a dream despite how vivid and alive it felt.
The colors weren’t right, everything was so sharp under the normally soft light
of the full moon. Like his mind had put on glasses for the first time after
years of going with untreated eyes. Lines were sharper and shadows deeper
making everything stand out stark in contrast to the dark night.
        He was moving yet no so much walking like he wasn’t actually a physical
being but an observer watching a show. They was moving down an unmarked path,
weaving between a path expertly and passing them faster then he would have ever
been able to if this weren’t a dream. They came to an abrupt stop, feet sliding
in the leaves and mud as they gained traction. They glanced down at their feet
as voiced began to get closer behind them. Turning to meet the people they
walked with purpose, straight line of the shoulders and a dignified stride
until they stood in a circle of peoples. Stiles was conscious of being apart of
the person, his host, yet unattached as he moved separately to look each person
as they came into focus.
        He recognized two of them but there was no fear, only a wave of warmth
and safety flowing over him gently as the faces of Laura and mysterious arrow
girl along with a few others looked at him. Easy smiles spread across their
face. The unknown girl reached out to playfully push at the body of his host
and they moved back a few feet, deep rumbling laughter coming from their mutual
chest.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Their voice came, deep and savory but not the bass
Stiles had been half expecting.
        “Oh, come on! Even mom said it was fine,” answered mystery girl
carrying a whisper of teasing behind her words. Laura only stood next to her
sentiently looking off to the left.
        A man’s voice came snarkily from the background. “Yes and Mother knows
best,” he sounded slimy.
        “I know, but-” They were cut off by Laura’s stifled laugh.
        “Brother, we all felt it,” she paused giving them a sage look, “and we
experienced it secondhand. I can’t imagine how raw it must have been.”
        “I’m jealous, he’s cute in a pasty kind of way.”
        “Oh shut the hell up, Peter. It’s a gift.” That sounded like Laura.
        They gave a little hum of agreement but Stiles could feel the
insecurity rubbing against him. Was it his insecurity or his hosts? Starting to
walk towards the direction they’d been heading the others turned to follow.
With footsteps so silent all Stiles could hear was a distant drumming, a
 gentle beat in the back of every thought. It’s rhythm so steady he forgot to
pay attention to where they were going until a house materialized out of the
darkness. They lept over the fence nimbly and walked up to the back porch. The
sliding glass door was easy, they’d taken a step back to let an older man,
presumably Peter, come forward and do something fancy that they couldn’t quite
see with the lock. It slide open easily and Peter cast a shit eating grin at
them.
        The group stepped inside easily and began to dig around. Careful to
leave everything exactly where they found it the group gently touched pictures
and moved around the lower floors. They stood there rooted to the stop at the
bottom of  staircase, waiting. In his hosts stillness Stiles began to look
around absently. Everything looked familiar yet so startlingly different in
this high definition detail. Each grain of wood was visible under the paint
that was a color he couldn’t quite name. Individual feathers poking out from an
over stuffed pillow on the sofa to their right could easily be picked out.
Stiles would have choked had he been part of a physical body. The walls, the
sofa, the kitchen, even the little old table his father and him had breakfast
at in the mornings filled his vision. He snapped around to look at everything
as pure panic shot electricity through his brain. This was his house. These
people were in his house. Dream and reality came so closely together that his
chest was tightening and he couldn’t breathe.
        His hosts body was suddenly alert, tense and he heard a guttural sound
that wasn’t even on the same spectrum as human slide out of their throat. Their
body was pulled tight ready to attack. Stiles was struggling to gasp and force
air into his lungs. Stiles vision was starting to change again, flashing
between moments of completely blackness to glimpses of the group looking at
them with confused, wary expressions. Mystery girl was standing a little too
close for him to be comfortable now, why had he been so calm to start with?!
She slowly extended a hand and Stiles screamed his mind and body only
responding to the memory of her breaking his wrist.
===============================================================================
 
        He was falling parachute less back into his own body. His own scream
echoed in his ears as his eyes jerked open to look at the grainy texture of his
ceiling. Tension coiled in every muscle as Stiles snatched his lacrosse stick
from atop his gym bag and flung himself down the stairs two at a time. No one,
nothing was down there but his shadow. Falling limply against the wall Stiles
fumbled with the lacrosse stick to reach over and slap at the switch eventually
managing to turn both fan and light on. The harsh glow burned his eyelids and
the breeze from the fan was cooling the sweat that can pooled on his neck and
back.
        His butt hit the floor duly and Stiles gingerly pulled at the front of
his shirt sticky with sweat. He must have been physically reacting to his
dream. Stiles knew whatever had happened wasn’t a dream and the thought made
him shiver. His sleepy mind rolled over whether he’d just witnessed a break in
through a robber’s eyes. The way the group had spoken didn’t feel right for a
robbery, besides the fact that there would be no reason for any of them to
steal things from his home. Stiles had been to their house and what they needed
wasn’t money. Maybe a priest, but not money.
        His head dropped limply forward and he peaked from the corner of his
eyes toward the back door not really wanting to see. The sliding glass door was
standing wide open, flung wide like people had fled through it quickly. It
should have set him on edge, at least frighten him a little, but it didn’t.
Emotionally and physically exhausted there wasn’t energy left for Stiles to
devote to feeling anything but tired.
        He struggled to his feet and closed the back door. Locking it and
jamming the stick of wood his father set to the side of the door into the jam
to stop it from sliding open. You’d have to break it to get in. Stiles doubted
they’d have a problem breaking glass if they were wanted to come inside, but it
eased the tight set of his shoulders enough that he was able to go back
upstairs into his bedroom and crawl lamely into bed. He only got up twice after
that. Once to check the front door. The other to go into his dad’s empty
bedroom and get the spare handgun from the safe he shouldn’t know the
combination to, he wasn’t going to be ripped to shreds that that girl in the
woods tonight. No sir.  Hopefully there would be enough time to put it back
before it’s absence was noted.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Chapter Three Preview: It was Saturday again, exactly a week after
     his wrist had been broken in three places and his world had gone all
     crazy. And he still hadn’t managed to convince Scott, who was too
     busy kissing all over Allison, to go see a doctor. He’d been weird
     sense he was bitten. No bad weird, just he was somehow enhanced. Was
     that even a thing?
      
     Yayayaya! Come visit me on my tumblr! behindthesaltline
***** Chapter Three *****
Chapter Notes
     Wooo:) Chapter three! This one took a little longer because I had to
     actually do research, blehhck, but it turned out the way I wanted! I
     was going to split it into two but I couldn't so its just a long one.
     As always, special thank yous to my betas Kevin, Breanna, and Sam. I
     really appreciate all the word you put into keeping me straight and
     not all over the place.
     ALSO! To everyone who has sent me asks/comments/anything I adore you.
     Seriously, they make my day when I get to respond.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
        Odiferous - fragrant. Stiles idly wondered how hard he would have to
throw his phone against the wall for it to break. With his luck it would bounce
back and hit him the head. He pulled himself up and fought with the knot of
sheets and blankets for a minute. Giving up he ran his hands down his face
harshly being sure to jab himself in the eye with his cast in the process.
Sleep had come easily that night which he was grossly thankful for.
        It was Saturday again, exactly a week after his wrist had been broken
in three places and his world had gone all crazy. And he still hadn’t managed
to convince Scott, who was too busy kissing all over Allison, to go see a
doctor. He’d been weird sense he was bitten. No bad weird, just he was somehow
enhanced. Was that even a thing? Stiles gesticulated to himself as he stared up
at the ceiling frowning. Scott heard better, saw better, moved faster and was
asthma free. Miraculous as it may be Stiles couldn’t get rid of the feeling
there was something he was missing and it buzzed around him like a gnat.
        Pushing Scott away for a moment he breathed deeply. He had to
compartmentalize if he was going to get through today. He’d been hired on to
work weekends at Bubba’s and already missed his second day of work ever so
things weren’t starting out well. Getting abducted by glowing eyed freaked
should be reason enough to miss work but he wasn’t expecting Isaac’s quick
acceptance of his absence and cheerily made him swear he’d show up for work
this morning. So he’d agreed refusing to let paranoia that me might see Laura
ruin his work place enthusiasm.
 
        Right, maybe he should have just called it quits on the job and stayed
in bed. Rolling into the parking lot at the same god forsaken time he parked
and walked to the front. Today there was no red Mustang but a sleek black
Charger parked off to the side in the corner space. Just like the first time
there was no one around he was guessing it was empty behind that heavily tinted
glass. He mashed his teeth together and steeled his nerves. He was going to get
through this shift and then figure out what the hell kind of alien was walking
around his down.  They should take their scary super strength and mind meld
business back to the moon and stay there.
        Isaac was standing behind the counter patiently looking down at Su,
nodding when it seemed appropriate during her long rant that was half in
Chinese. Today he had a scarf tucked into his sweater and apron combo making
Stiles wonder how he wasn’t about to stroke out from the heat. He waved in
greeting at Stiles and pointed toward the cream cheese bins. Assuming it was
now his job to fill them he slipped an apron over his Batman shirt and set to
work during the half hour before they opened making sure each one was full
enough to overflow if the cream cheese wasn’t so firm.
        At 7:00 exactly the bell on the door bell swung open and Stiles looked
up with his best fake smile ready to deal with Laura and whatever terror filled
awkwardness was sure to ensue. In strode somebody completely different. This
man was slightly taller than himself but that is where the similarities ended.
Dark jeans and a deep green henley that was so tight it laid against every
toned plane of his body, the leather jacket didn’t serve to hide anything
either. His hair was inky black with stubble to match. He was tan, naturally
not that fake orange tan that you see in a lot of people. The whole thing was
made better, worse, by his eyes. They were the color of a deep forest lake,
that crystal clear swirling green-blue that only really pure lakes get. Stiles
was floored. He’d always walked the line of sexuality but this man was
handsome. If his face didn’t seem drawn to look like a scowl he might have been
downright breathtaking. Stiles had to remind himself that it was impolite to
throw yourself wantonly at strangers in public.
        “Can I help you?” He chirped quickly nearly bouncing over to stand at
low counter. Can’t blame a stressed out and deprived teenager for being eager.
        “I called in an order, but I’d like to order something to go with it.”
        “Sure, what was the name on the order?,” Stiles beamed outwardly while
his mind scrambled to remember where Isaac had shown him the call in orders
were kept. Last weekend felt like an eternity ago.
        “Hale.”
        Stiles dived into the fridge behind him pretending that he did not
infact just slip on the rubber mat underneath him. Sitting on the top shelf
were three bags each with the same Hale written across in Isaac’s delicate
script. Thank god something was going right. When he turned around Stiles swore
he saw a faint smile on the man’s lips and him take a deep breath, he might of
noticed the latter because he was looking obnoxiously at the man’s musculature
as opposed to his face.
        “Okay where there are those. You said you wanted something else?”
        “Yeah,” he leaned back to look over the selection written in
multicolored chalk above the counter giving Stiles a view of his neck, necks
should not be that appealing, “parmesan with garden cream cheese and avocado?”
He made it a question.
        “Sure thing,” He rang him up for the items only getting mad at the cash
register once. Stiles popped over to the station and popped the bread into the
little infrared toaster. He worked in silence with the man watching him, but
Stiles never felt uncomfortable like he normally would. The man had the
presence of a brick house but there was a pull toward him that Stiles couldn’t
ignore. Irrationally he wanted to please him. Wanted to be in the same space as
this guy and it sent goose bumps down his arms. Beneath his want to reach out
and touch, to be touched, was a warm tranquil feeling like slipping into a
perfectly warmed bath.
        The bagel popped out of the back of the toaster and Stiles jumped
knocked from his headspace. He grabbed at it grimacing when it burnt the tips
of his fingers. Quickly he smeared the spread and cut out thick chunks of the
avocado, closing the whole thing like a sandwich he slid it into a white paper
bag and held it out for the man to take. Mr. Hale struggled for a minute before
awkward taking it from him their fingers lingering together for a brief touch.
He grabbed the rest of his bags and retreated out of the front door the muscles
in his back bunched visibly under the supple leather of his jacket.
        The door closed and the cord of Stiles’ trance was cut leaving him
feeling strangely hollow as everything he was worrying about crashed back over
him. His body gave an involuntary shiver as he stared out the front window. A
little cough let him know Isaac was standing behind him. One eye looked over
his shoulder embarrassed he’d been caught making gooey eyes at a customer.
        “So...”, he managed drawing little circles on the stainless worktop
with one finger.
        “I see you met Derek. He’s a regular too.” Isaac sounded like he was
carefully picking each word. Stiles didn’t like that and immediately set out to
figure out why.
        “What do you know about him?” Light and conversational, points for
Stiles
        “Not much,” his shoulder lifted in a noncommittal shrug, evasive.
        “If he’s a regular you’ve got to have talked to him.”
        “He’s quiet. I mostly talk to his sister.”  Isaac blanched recovering
quickly into an easy smile. Stiles saw it though, guess he wasn’t meant to know
that.
        “Who’s his sister,” he probed conversationally.
       “Another regular.” Isaac was setting up the cash register more
thoroughly now. Deliberately setting the tip jar on the counter and moving
things around with minor adjustments.
        “And her name is?”
        “Cora,” it took Isaac a minute to respond to that one.
        “I feel like that is a half truth. I’ll find out. Tall, dark and
mysterious is just my type.” He meant it as a joke, but the way Isaac looked at
him hopeful, secretive, and nervous all at the same time left him feeling
guilty.
        “You shouldn’t say that unless you mean it.”, Isaac offered gently
pointedly not looking at Stiles.
        It was hard to tell who was more grateful when customers started to
stream through the front door making it impossible for them to have a
conversation. Throngs of people didn’t stop Stiles from noticing each time
Isaac looked at him thoughtfully. Each time he just assured himself that Isaac
was watching him to make sure his wrist was okay and he was keeping up with the
word. Yeah, that was it. Damn it, what had he gotten himself into.
        He’d been stationed all day at the work counter trying to keep the
orders and what he was making straight. A few times it became such a jumbled
mess, he blamed it on the clunky wrist cast, that Su came out from the back to
help it with quick, experienced hands though everything went smoother than it
did a week ago. Stiles had never been so happy to be a fast learner in his
life.
        The crowd and slowed to a trickle while the the of them set to
restocking and wiping off every surface they could get a hand on to. Stiles had
the coolers below his station open and was halfway into one trying to reach the
back when Isaac broke the not uncomfortable silence.
        “I’m not trying to keep things from you.”
        “Then why are you?”
        “It’s not my place,”he dropped the dirty rang he was holding into a
sanitizer bucket, ringing it out let another blast of bleach hit the air.
       “What does that even mean? I’m scared and just want to know what’s going
on around me. Did I put my family at risk by being stupid?”, Stiles hissed
trying to scrub an unidentifiable sticky goo from the bottom of the fridge.
Isaac was quiet for so long Stiles thought he could feel the gears of his head
turning. Isaac’s morality and trust issues were not what he needed on top of
everything else.
        “No one is going to get hurt.”
        “I don’t believe that,” the bleach from the sanitizer broke through the
residue enough for him to pick it clean, Stiles continued, “Freaky alien people
kidnapped me last week, one of whom broke my wrist for no apparent reason! Then
I found out that Laura, who’d I’d only met once but creeped me the fuck out, is
one of those aliens. My best friend gets bit by something impossibly huge. A
creature that has already killed one person! Brutally. Like chest broken up and
guts spilling out brutally. Oh yeah, and I magically mind meld dream walk,
whatever, around in one of the creepy alien’s bodies.” Stiles sucked in a deep
shuddering breath, it did sound real at all when said all together. Keep
talking like this and Stiles wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up in a room
with padded walls.
        Isaac’s face was pulled into tight lines of genuine confusion and
something Stiles couldn’t quite read. The door tinkled open and they both
looked. Su came in carrying a box full of ingredients, neither of them moved to
help her. Help her with something and you’ll never hear the end of how she
thinks you think she is weak.
        She gave a little half wave to Isaac who waited until she was just out
of earshot to speak, “ I--”
        “And, why am I telling you this?! I barely know you!!”, Stiles cut
across him abruptly his voice nearing that hysterical whine that he loathes.
        “Because you feel safe around me, but it isn’t my place to say.”
        Stiles threw his hands into the air sprinkling himself with little
droplets of dirty bleach water. He’s worry about the white speckles on his
shirt later, “So you all but tell me you’re involved but can’t tell me
anything? Fucking A,” Stiles gesticulated wildly his hands of blur of movement
trying to convey how ridiculous this whole situation was, “can you tell me if
they are human? They being Laura and Cora because I might need to be
medicated.”
        “Tomorrow night is a full moon.”, was his completely off topic reply.
Stiles fought the urge to crawl across the floor and strangle him. Isaac’s was
laughing softly to himself, his head shaking weakly making those dorky blond
curls flop over his forehead. He might have been cute if Stiles’ mind didn’t
click right over to Man of The Dark Henley every opportunity it got between
alien PTSD and work.
 
        Forty minutes saw Stiles finished cleaning his station, a purposefully
tight lipped Isaac taking care of the occasional customer and filling out an
order sheet, and on his way to Scott’s job so they could go practice. First
line seemed irrelevant this weekend, but Scott had been eager beyond control at
testing his new abilities.Stiles wasn’t sure what to label them so until Scott
starting shooting webbing from his wrists they were just abilities, not
superpowers.
        The vet’s office where Scott worked made Stiles feel disgusting the
moment he stepped over the threshold. There was a heaviness to the air that
forced him away from the counter to stand near the front door awkwardly. Scott
finally came from the back looking pinched. Obviously it wasn’t just Stiles
feeling it. Knowing he wasn’t alone made everything a little more bearable
right now. Deaton, Scott’s boss and the Beacon Hills vet, followed after Scott
his expression so serene that Stiles pictures him as a monk. Deaton had always
been like that though, wise and calm.  Scoot stood shifting his weight from one
foot to the other staring intently at the half stable door that cut through the
desk for employees.
        “Are ya coming buddy?” Stiles clasped his hands together involuntarily.
There was a moment when nobody moved, each of them just looking expectantly at
the other before Deaton took pity. He moved around Scott and gently pushed up
the wooden door. The repulsed sensation in Stiles snapped like a string and
clearly had a similar effect on Scott who rushed out from the back careful not
to touch either side of the counter.
 
        They might have sprinting from the building and into the Jeep but
they’d swear they were just eager to practice. Neither of them spoke a word
until they spilled out onto the over look that had been their secret place for
years, lacrosse forgotten in the back of Stiles’ Jeep.
        “That was the weirdest day of work in my life.”
        “Nope, no way. You didn’t have a vague alien coworker. I’ve decided
he’s an alien. There is just no other way around it.”
        “Isaac?!”, Scott stopped his stomped pacing long enough to round on
Stiles incredulously.
        “Yes! Isaac! He knows them Scott, he knows about them at the very
least.”
        “How?”
        “If I knew I’d tell you but-”
        “Well I think my boss does too, he watching me all day like I was going
to freaking out and break something. I was so nervous. And the wooden doors? I
can’t touch them.”
        “What do you mean you can’t touch them?”, Stiles asked from the log
where he’d fallen onto in a mass of limbs.
        “I don’t know but I can’t get close. They feel gross, like I shouldn’t
even be around them. Am I allergic to wood?! Oh man that is worse than being
allergic to onions!”
        “If that was the case you being allergic to wood would be the least of
my problems, but I felt it too. I walked into that office I immediately wanted
to leave.”
        “Exactly, maybe Deaton is immune?”
        “No, Scott, we’ve been in that office dozens of times and nothing
happened. What changed?”
        “I got bit and you got teen-napped?” Oh. Stiles stared at Scott as the
threads started to connect inside his mind. They’d been so stupid, both clouded
with too much confusion and fear to actually look at the facts.
        “We need to go to my house right now. I have to look something up on my
computer.”
        “I can’t man. I’m meeting Allison.”
        “How the hell were we supposed to practice if you were meeting
Allison?”
        Scott at the good manners to at least look ashamed, “Well, she was just
going to meet us at the field, but we came here and I can’t just leave her.”
        Stiles groaned and started to head back toward his Jeep knowing damn
well that Scott would run after him.
        “I really like this girl. I know you know that. So please? You’re not
going to figure this all out overnight. Call me in the morning and I swear I’ll
come over and we can sort through it.”
        “Fine. What happened to bros before hos?” Scott’s face broke into a
grin like Christmas morning. He was so easy to please. What was happening had
really only served him well so Stiles doubted the non humanoids walking around
the streets of Beacon Hills bothered Scott as much as it bothered him. He’d
felt lost all week, maybe Scott didn’t. Something was missing not just
information wise but from him and that empty spot made Stiles uneasy and jumpy.
        “Just be careful okay? Isaac said, ‘The full moon is tomorrow’”, Stiles
mocked his soft voice, “And it felt like a warning.”
 
        He dropped Scott off into Allison’s eagerly waiting arms and hightailed
back to his house. His dad was, thankfully, working a night shift so he didn’t
have to navigate around anyone. Stiles went to his kitchen first, loading his
arms full of chips and other snacks he marched back up his bedroom with a
gallon of orange dangling precariously from his index finger.
        Stiles berated himself as his computer clicked to life with the
cheerful windows theme playing softly. He should have looked at the pieces as a
whole. They weren’t random individual incidents but chunks of the same thing.
What the big picture was he was clueless about but tonight he determined to get
somewhere. Time passes differently when your nose deep in the blue light of a
screen. He searched for hours. Regardless of what he looking into or where he
started Stiles ended up at nearly the same location, but that was so beyond
impossible it was laughable.
        Werewolves don't exist. If they did someone would have found out by
now. Stiles was refusing to press the I Believe button as he mulled over his
researched. He clicked open a tab and stared at the picture of some ancient
painting that had been scanned into a computer. The werewolf had an infant in
one hand and it’s head was lifted toward the sky. Eyes a molten gold visible
even through the shit scanning and faded paint. The heightened sense of hearing
and smell, how hot Scott’s body temperature had been, how fast and strong he’d
been recently. Oh lord, Stiles’ inner monologue was starting to sound like a
shitty Twilight chapter but it explained everything. His mind to struggled to
wrap around the concept unwilling to accept something so absurd.
        There was a press of acceptance against his chest, it branched its way
through his body slowly as his mind caught up to this new reality. Stiles had
been expecting fear, prepared for it actually, but there was no fear.
Realization, yeah. The same kind of realization when you walk into a surprise
party. You knew, but you ignored it so thoroughly that you had convinced
yourself it wasn’t possible.
        If Stiles dreamed that night, he didn’t remember.
 
 
===============================================================================
 


        Stiles! I need 2 talk to u!
        Get up!
        This is IMPORTANT ur a terrible friend if u dont answer
        STILES! His phone buzzed on the bedside table until Stiles couldn’t
bare the noise. Who needs a full nights, days, rest anyway? Obviously not
Stiles. He snatched the phone and blearily pounded out a reply.
          Pick me up now
        In a bit. I just woke up.
        Quickly man its important!!!
        Can’t you just tell me?
        No hurry up!
        Generally, Scott blowing up his phone at, he glanced at his clock and
groaned. It was 6:04 on a Sunday morning. That had to be blasphemy somewhere,
but two things occurred to him. One, he had to be at work in twenty minutes and
two, what the hell was Scott even doing awake? He grabbed at his phone again. I
can’t. I have work today. What is it?
          Aw fuck are you kiddin me? Shit pick me up as soon as ur off
        Stiles guessed it was just going to have to wait. He wanted this job.
By the time he’d made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen pulling a
shirt over his head as he went his dad was picking up his keys from a little
wicker basket by the door. His lips were pressed together in a tight lip and
the bags under his eyes screamed he’d been woken up early too.
        “I thought you didn’t go in until later.”
        “Another person is missing. A camping group called it in this morning.
They said they heard howling.” The Sheriff shook his head, his brow furrowed,
“but there aren’t wild wolves in California.”
        “Yep. No wolves. Nothing like that at all. Nope.” If Stiles sounded
strained his father didn’t notice. To used to Stiles to notice.
        “Yeah. It’s strange... But! I’ll be working late. Give ya a call later
if I’m at the station all night. Love ya, kid.” He hoisted his belt a little
higher around his waist and went out to his patrol car.
        Stiles didn’t let the himself breathe until he heard the engine kick to
live and his dad pull out the driveway. If Laura and her furry friend were
killing people they had to be stopped. Which ever one of them sunk fangs into
Scott needed to be found and... punished? What exactly was he going to do if he
figured out who bit Scott? It wasn’t like he could turn them into the police
and tell the truth.
        Work and the prospect of seeing one of the Hales come to pick up
bagels, a grossly normal thing for them to be doing by the way, was sounding
less and less appealing. Stiles straightened his shoulders. He was a Stilinski,
his father was the Sheriff. He was not going to run upstairs and wrap himself
in his blanket. He was going to go to work and put on a normal, happy act until
he could figure out what to do next. No one had made any outright threats,
recently at least. They didn’t even know he knew about them. It was going to be
fine. Riiight.
 
 
===============================================================================
 
 
        At Bubba’s Stiles was surprised to find that Isaac wasn’t there. Him
and Su would be managing the front of the store and since Isaac had requested
the day off she’d asked if he could stay late. Stiles tried to be subtle about
asking her about it. Su wasn’t much for chatter. Customers came and went
steadily making the hours fly by. Only once did Stiles manage to get her to
speak after blatantly asking Su where Isaac was. She eyed him suspiciously
before responding that what he did was his own business. That conversation
quickly ended.  
        She’d kept him there until nearly four. Watching him mop the floor and
wipe down all of the counter tops while she did prep work for the next day.
        It was a miracle he had not fallen asleep at the wheel as he drove to
Scott’s house. Right as he’d clocked off from work Stiles had sent a message to
Scott letting him know he was on his way. Urged to go faster in the immediate
reply which was odd enough to make Stiles test the speed limit. Scott was one
of those people that took annoying long to respond if it wasn’t important
enough.
        He slowed, pulling to a stop in front of the McCall house. Stiles
reached into the center console for his phone but he heard the front door bang
open. Scott was swearing as he came toward the jeep, his entire body was rigid
and he looked nervous. Skittish even.
        “I can’t believe you picked work over me.”
        “It wasn’t really much of a choice. Unless of course you're going to
start paying for my company. I bet I’d look pretty enough in a dress to date.”
        “Oh shut up and drive. The usual place”
        “Your wish is my command, handsome.” Stiles wiggled his eyebrows at
Scott who didn’t react beyond rolling his eyes. Scott just didn’t understand
sarcasm well enough to realize that Stiles was funny.
        The ride started out silently. Scott was putting off enough tension to
choke on. He was jumping at every turn and gripping the suicide handle tight
enough that his handprint was going to be permanent on the leather. He would
crack and tell Stiles eventually but for now the awkward silence was killing
him. He reached forward to play with the radio. It clicked to an obnoxious
station where the DJ made terrible puns and played the Top 20 on repeat.
Watered down bass drops and whiney vocals filled the Jeep. At least it pressed
out the silence.
        Just like he had in Stiles’ living room Scott switched off the radio.
His arm moving in a quick jerk that looked unnatural.
        “I can’t listen to that. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard and I’m
freaking out as it is!”
        What Stiles meant to say was “Tell me what is it thats bothering you.
I’m here to listen.” when in actually what came out of his mouth was, “Yeah,
because I hadn't noticed.” though there wasn’t any snark behind it.
        “I can’t sit still. I feel like I’m on fire. Like my skin isn’t my
skin. Everything is so much sharper. Unbearable so. Every sound is grating and
when I smell something its so strong that I want to gag. What is happening to
me?” Scotts voice cracked toward the end. Fear tends to do that.
        “You’re a werewolf.”
        Scott slammed his fit against the dashboard. A sudden outburst of anger
that left a baseball sized dent where his hand his the plastic.
        “Damn it, Sco--”
        “I’m so sorry. Holy shit, how did I even.. I mean.. This isn’t the time
for jokes!” Scott was scrambling for words to apologize and when it couldn’t
find them settled on chastising. Stiles reached his hand over to run a finger
along the ridged edge of the dent. That wasn’t going to be cheap, but how mad
could he really be. It wasn’t the first, nor likely the last time his baby was
going to take some damage.
        “I was being serious, you dick.”
        “That is by far the stupid fucking thing I’ve ever heard come out of
your mouth. And, I was there the day you asked Danny if you were attractive to
gay men.”
        “That is a serious concern of mine! And, I am being completely serious!
Think about it, Scott,” Stiles jerked the Jeep into the shoulder where he
parked near the head of trail. It was well worn and always made Stiles a little
happy to see it. When the two were younger they used to beg the Sheriff to take
them camping down this little path. Now they came here to get away from the
noise of Beacon Hills. Stiles jumped out, shoved his keys into his pocket and
started walking down the pack his hands moving around in front of him as he
explained,
        “You got bit by a giant thing and you swear you heard howling. That
bite healed in like two days and after your side was all better you got these
crazy abilities. You literally got what every sixteen year old boy asks for.
Better everything! Not to mention you get all twitchy when Alison comes close
to you. Don’t act like you don’t. I’ve been watching you all week! You had to
leave the class twice just because she reached over to borrow your pencil.”
        “She makes me lose control.”
        “Eww TMI, man.” They were getting close to the clearing they liked to
sit in now. Dusk settling around them with feathery softness.
        “Not like that. Like my heart goes wild and something feels like it’s
crawling under my skin. I can’t be around her for very long,” Scott’s face fell
when he talked about her. That idiot was falling so hard he jumped without even
thinking to check for a net.
        “Exactly! Maybe being around her gets too excited and the wolf tries to
come to service and howl or something. It’s not a perfect explanation, but it
makes sense!”
        “I’m not saying I’m turning into a werewolf, but why is this happening
to me?! Nothing weird is happening to you right?!”
Stiles bit his tongue, Scott still knew nothing about his dream-vision and
Stiles wasn’t about to tell him. He felt like he shouldn’t mention it like
seeing something through another person’s eyes, even a potentially fanged out
serial killers, was somehow private.
        Instead of stopping to sit on the logs Scott moved past Stiles to take
the lead still yammering about how horrible his life was. Stiles doubted it
could really be that terrible, all he had to learn was a little control and him
and Allison could go right back to making out in between classes. They walked
along the line where the trees went from sporadic to densely packed following a
path Stiles thought his friend was making up as they went. He knew this part of
the Preserve having run through the bushes and l but it smells like tangy
copper this way.”
        “Tangy copper is that even a scent? Can you smell gold because this is
California and that would be dead useful.” Scott didn’t even bother to reply
just kept marching forward his back settling in tense line. They kept walking
as true darkness sank in around them. Stiles was stumbling over roots and
trying to fight off thorns as they grabbed desperately at his jean though Scott
was completely unhindered. He glided through the trees and skirted around the
plants easily. It was utterly unfair.
       "Can you slow down? Not all of us has big wolf eyes to help us see in
the dark.”
        Scott stopped abruptly. Stiles had to quickly sidestep so he didn’t
crash into his friends back only jostled against his shoulder a little. Tangy
copper was the best way to describe the scent as he hit it like a brick. If
Scott’s hand hadn’t shot out to stop him he would have been standing in it.  A
hand jerked up to cover his mouth and surpass the gag that was building in his
throat.
        Eerily pale in the moonlight that filtered through the clouds her skin
was visible through the tatters of what might have been overalls and a t-
shirt.She was in two pieces and chunks were missing from those pieces. A third
of her side was missing leaving her stomach ripped out and splayed in the
leaves. What used to be legs and a pelvic were a few feet away spreadeagle in
the grass. A lake of blood dried enough to shine tacky in what little like they
had reached from her torn apart body to where the two of them were standing.
Stiles was briefly glad that she wasn’t on a freshly cut lawn, the thick growth
was hiding most of the smaller bits. Meat, this girl had been torn apart like
meat and it was dehumanizing to the extreme.
        The clouds were starting to part casting more light onto the body.
Stiles turned away quickly not wanting to see more. He really didn’t want to
see the way Scott’s eyes were verging on gold while he stared at the body with
a desperate expression
        “Call your Dad.” Scotts voice came out rough, a barely concealed growl,
and he was perfectly, inhumanly still.
        Stiles was already on it, his hand fumbling awkwardly to pull the phone
from his pocket. He was backing away slowly trying to type in the number when
his eyes betrayed him and snapped up to look at Scott. He hesitated on pressing
call. Just a second and Scott was on him.
        Scott crashed into Stiles using the momentum to knock Stiles off his
feet and into the dirt sending his phone flying into the woods. Concrete firm
hands pinned his shoulders to the ground as sharp pointed started to cut
through his shirt and pierce the skin. Claws; his mind supplied lamely. His
heart hammered in his chest as wide eyes stared panic stricken the beastial
face of his friend. Scott’s face was overcome with fur and had sunken into deep
wolfish features only enhancing the terrifyingly gold color of his eyes.
        A scream curled in Stiles’ throat as he thrashed weakly trying to free
himself from Scott’s iron grip. Scott’s mouth opened wide, wider than was
possible revealing massive fangs few easily two or three inches long and howled
in triumph. Before Stiles could scream another howl answered Scott’s. It was
close, just off to Stiles’ left. Scott, or WereScott, stopped his assault and
turned to look in the direction of the howl.
        Two more werewolfs emerged from the thick line of trees. They inched
forward growling and fanged jaws snapping at empty air. Stiles was trying to
push at the ground with his hands but he was still pinned under Scott’s weight.
There was no escaping now, all he could do was twist uselessly in the mud and
watch.
        The others got closer stepping from the shadows and into the silvery
beams of light. The closest was smaller than Scott her fur a deep brown that
was probably lighter in sunlight and was walking half on two legs and half on
four like she couldn’t decide how much of a wolf she wanted to be tonight. It
contrasted with the pale dress that was wrapped around her wolfed out body. The
other one, hanging back by the line of trees was massive. Mostly human his
arms, neck, and chest crept sleek black fur that dipped into a gray tank top
and jeans. He wasn’t looking at Scott he was staring directly at Stile with
eyes that were fiery blue.
        Recognition coursed through Stiles than and he struggled even harder
against Scott who was growling deeply and snarling respectfully at him and the
shewolf. He couldn’t make up which was more important, lunch or fighting off
the couple who might be trying to steal his lunch. Priorities. Scott’s grip
loosened on Stiles as he turned to crawl toward the woman his arms and legs
working in a way that was distinctly animalistic. The moment Stiles had enough
freedom to wiggle to his feet he looked between the three. Derek seemed to
realize what he was going to go and took a step forward and shook his head a
single tight jerk, but Stiles had already made up his mind.
        He turned and ran. One of the three howled in rage, he thought it was
Scott. His legs pumped as hard as they could against the bushes ignoring the
thorns and briars as they snagged as his jeans slowing him down. Damn it all to
hell, this was not how he wanted to die. This wasn’t even how he wanted to
spend a Sunday night. He heard them behind him as he ran. Sharp panting and the
crunch of plants underneath faster, heavier bodies. Something strong collided
with something solid followed by the sound of a struggle. Stiles heard a pained
whine the slick sound of fleshing being ripped.
        The struggle faded into the background eventually overcome by the
frantic pace of his heart. His muscle were starting to protest as acid burned
through his calfs. He was a sprinter not a distance runner but he was going to
thank Coach for insisting on track if he made it out of this mess alive.
Eventually there was nothing but the sounds of the forest behind him and he
slowed to a steady jog. His chest cleaved with the force it took him to suck in
a breath making black spots flash across his vision.
        He jogged until his knees shook and he was more thoroughly lost than
he’d ever been before. He had no idea how far he’d run or in which direction.
Wolves could track pray for miles. Peachy. There was a steady tree to his left
and Stiles crossed his arms to lean against it trying to listen past his pulse
pounding away like a snare. Be still my fragile heart he thought with a
hysterical laugh. No noise wolfy noises came from anywhere. He was completely
alone and now that the adrenaline was starting to flush out his muscles Stiles
was exhausted. His body felt heavy and sore.
        He flopped over, eyes closed trying to hear, so that his back was flush
against the unforgiving tree bark. After a while, Stiles couldn’t tell you how
long, he opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn’t.
        “Don’t eat me.”, it fell out of his mouth embarrassingly fast. Leave it
to Stiles to stick his foot in his mouth for his final act. Derek Hale stood
about four feet away completely human except for his eyes, a blue Stiles wasn’t
going to forget, ever. One eyebrow was raised high and his mouth set into his
permanent scowl. He was wearing the same tank top and basket ball shorts though
this time smattered with droplets of blood. Stiles shouldn’t have wanted to
reach out a touch him. To run his hands along the sharp angle of that jaw, but
he did.
        Derek’s jaw clenched tightly and he balled his hands into fists at his
side. Stiles was remarkably unafraid of Derek like this when he could see the
human side of him. He was exhausted and terrified of what happened to Scott and
the woman, but every time his mind tried to process the man in front of him he
met nothing but the calm pool of tranquility from before.
        Derek inhaled deeply his whole body shivering with the whatever scent
was on the air. He relaxed, fractionally, and started to moved toward Stiles.
He didn’t stop, instead moving just enough to walk past Stiles and into the
darkness being very careful not to let the line of their shoulders touch. The
space between them was small enough that it send twinches of electricity from
his shoulder down his arm.  Warming him from the inside out. Stiles jumped, his
mind and body completely fried.
        “Follow me. They want to see you.” Derek had turned back to look at
Stiles from where he’d stopped. Stiles could barely make him out in the dim,
though he didn’t doubt Derek could see him clear as day.
        Derek waited as Stiles felt the mounting pressure of eyes on him. What
was he going to do? Stand here and shake or fling himself at that toned back?
The answer was neither. He numbly pushed himself from the tree and went to
follow Derek.
 
        If Stiles hadn’t just witnessed Derek wolf out watching him move
through the forest would have told him he wasn’t human. At least not
completely. Derek wove in and out of the trees artfully. Nimbly moving around
stumps and roots that tangled around Stiles’ legs, tripping him. Those times
when he fell Derek would stop and look back. His face twisted in the pained
concentrated expression with his fists balled tightly at his side. Stiles
wasn’t sure what to make of it. Thinking originally that Derek was trying to
hold back the transformation, but that answer didn’t seem right.
        Maybe Stiles would have tripped less if his pace wasn’t constantly
changing. He’d jog for a few minutes trying to gain on Derek’s long strides
then fall back into a slow dragging of his feet when he realized he’d caught up
to the point of being able to reach out and touch. The urge to rub along
Derek’s bare arms was too strong when he was that close. That was scary in its
own way. Not that the bloody shirt and possible murderer element wasn’t
terrifying on its own. Nope, Stiles had to be overwhelmingly attracted to
someone who might be slaughtering humans in his spare time. Oh good.
        The walk was too fast for him to really sort through anything. They
onto the shoulder of the highway a little ways off from where his Jeep was
tucked into a cove of trees. From here Stiles could see light bouncing of his
metallic bumper. Seeing it was startlingly normal and put into perspective how
crazy his night suddenly was. After all he did just follow a blood covered,
constipated werewolf through a dark forest after his best friend tried to eat
him.
        Laura and, completely uninjured, Scott stepped out of the woods as they
got closer. Laura had one hand on Scott’s bicep not tight but she held him with
purpose. Neither had fangs or glowing eyes. Stiles’ heart leapt into his mouth
and seeing Scott even if his friend looked drained. He was alive. The night
immediately didn’t seem so terrible.
        “Hey boys, have fun out there in the dark?”, She made a point of
wiggling an eyebrow at Derek. People shouldn’t be able to make jokes after
seeing a corpse, even vague jokes that hinted at a deeper meaning. Stiles would
worry about her choice of words later.
        “What did you do to Scott?” Stiles rushed forward to them, one hand
reaching out to hold against Scott’s chest.
        “Nothing that wasn’t necessary. The moon was too strong and I forced
control over him. He’s disoriented, but give him a little bit and he should be
right as rain.” Stiles believed her. She had no reason to lie him and Scott
were trapped and defenseless. There was another question cocked and loaded, he
wasn’t going to ask but;
        “Why did you kill that girl? And the other one two weeks ago?”, Stiles
spurted. He sounded braver than he felt. Three to one could rip him apart. Two
might voluntarily.
        Laura threw back her head and barked with laughter, “We didn’t kill
them. A beasty did, but it wasn’t us. We were trying to hunt it when you two
stumbled onto the scene.” She gave Scott a little shake as if emphasizing her
point. He grunted, his eyes glazed and tired.
        “So it’s true?”
        “What’s true?” She was being coy, careful not to expressly say
anything. Letting Stiles know the truth in what he’d seen without recognizing
it.
        Derek was crowding him then gently using the mass of his body to guide
Stiles toward his jeep. He relaxed immediately allowing himself to be led
before his mind provided a reasonable argument. Whatever was making him submit
needed to stop.
        “No!”, bit out Stiles stamping one foot firmly into the ground and
turning so that he was facing Derek. His eyes met Derek’s chin so he barely had
to lift his chin to look him squarely in the face. Stiles used both hands to
firmly shove at the broad chest, ignoring the awkward contact of the cast.  It
felt like trying to push against a brick wall, Derek let himself be moved
backwards. Both of his large hands came up as if to grab Stiles’ biceps. He
thought better of it only allowing his fingertips to run along bare skin and
down to the cast. Stiles shivered, the electricity was stronger this time.
Little snaps of it cracking against pulse points as it worked through his
veins.
        “No?” Derek’s voice was low but he was taking another step back. Stiles
didn’t bother to answer. He wasn’t sure he was meant to.
        “Doth mother know you breaketh her rules?” Laura teased. Derek took
another step back, paused for a second then proceeded to let himself into the
driver’s side of the Jeep. Stiles cracked a wry smile in Laura’s direction. She
winked and there was warmth in it. Perhaps he wasn’t going to die tonight. She
made a grand gesture toward the Jeep. The three of them crawled into it with
Laura in the back with Scott held tight against her side drifting slowly back
to awareness.
 
Chapter End Notes
     Chapter Four Preview: Immediately a woman came through the front door
     and down the steps like she’d just heard a friend arrive for dinner.
     No rush to it just a gentle glide that continued across the lawn.
     Again the small crowd parted easily each person dipping their head
     down or to the side as she passed. Stiles was aware that they were
     putting on a show of sorts for his benefit. Or the show was about his
     reaction, he didn’t like to think about being watched by this many
     fanged folk. The numbers game was wasted because he was already aware
     of his mortality even if the fear had subsided to tight coil in his
     gut.
     You can find me on my tumblr here!
***** Chapter Four *****
Chapter Summary
     Regardless of what anyone says, it's easier to believe in the
     monsters you see than the monsters you don't.
Chapter Notes
     This one is back to the regular pacing of chapters! This one took me
     a really long time, just trying to keep the characters genuine. I am
     happy with the way it turned out so enjoy:))
     Shout out to my girl, Breanna, who has read about 15 versions of this
     chapter and helped me piece together what I wanted to say.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
        When Laura had made the crack about their mother Stiles had thought it
was one hundred percent facetious. Now that they were pulling up a long gravel
driveway where a small group was waiting he wasn’t so sure. The ride at been
tight, anxious. The shock of seeing the mutilated body seeping into anger. If
these people were killing innocent campers they needed to be stopped. Even if
Stiles doubted he could directly contact the police they needed to stopped
somehow. He thought of the girl who’d been shot with arrows, obviously there
was another force at work. Someone, maybe even a group, who knew what they
were. If Stiles could get to them, tell them what he saw they could stop more
people for dying.
        The group milling around the front of the house was rigid with tension
but parted easily around his car as Derek pulled to a stop in nearly the same
spot the last time he visited the Hale House. Well, if you counted being
kidnapped and having your arm broken as visiting. Stiles seethed, for harboring
this kind of secret they were sure being obvious. If they thought he was going
to keep quiet forever they’d be wrong. Everyone was watching them as they
climbed out, a few pairs of eyes reflecting gold in the night. Stiles didn’t
pretend to understand the show of force.
        Immediately a woman came through the front door and down the steps
easily. She walked with authority. No rush to it, a gentle glide that continued
across the lawn. The small crowd parted easily each person dipping their head
down or to the side as she passed, some of them looked vaguely familiar. People
you’d seen around a few times but never stopped to actually notice. Stiles was
aware that they were putting on a show of sorts for his benefit. Or the show
was about his reaction, he didn’t like to think about being watched by this
many fanged folk. The numbers game was wasted because he was already aware of
his mortality even if the fear had subsided to tight coil in his gut. They
respected this woman, bowed to her even. Stiles didn’t want to see her angry if
the two he’d seen, three but wasn’t going to fess up about Scott, were like
living nightmares when they wolfed out.
        She smiled serenely and hooked her arm outward offering her elbow for
Stiles to take. He started to reach out reflexively before catching himself and
pushing his arms firmly his side. The bloody picture of the girl flashing in
his mind. Stiles wasn’t about to touch her regardless of the strange pull to do
so. He remained rooted to his spot. She arched one dark eyebrow. That had to be
a Hale thing.
        It started as a low rumble and grew until it the growl echoed through
him and had Stiles turning. He jumped. Derek was close to his side, closer than
Stiles thought he’d been. Near enough that if Stiles’ had leaned back a
fraction they’d been touching. This close and Derek was like a magnet. Stiles
wanted to lean back, to break the space between them. It was God Damn mind
wrecking. Being attracted to a potential murder to this severity was
horrifying. His heart pounded away like a snare, beating out the frantic rhythm
of his scrambled mind. Stiles’ confusion and agitation must have been palpable.
        “Step back Derek, you’re scaring him.” Under the eight of her gaze
Derek shrank two sizes, and stepped back. It was magic. “I’m Talia, I have yet
to have the pleasure of meeting you Stiles. I heard from Laura that you were
cute. That girl has never lied a day in her life by the looks of you,” she
added, a picture of hospitality and grace. Taking it upon herself to move this
party along she snaked her arm through Stiles and gave a tug. He surged forward
with her surprising strengthening to be walking beside her. He gave an
experimental wiggle in her grasp. No dice.
        The house was exactly as he remembered seeing it. Clean yet lived in
with bits and pieces of the its occupants’ things scattered around. Keys
hanging by the door above shoes and enough pictures to fill a studio gave it a
homey give. Heck, Stiles even noticed homework spread open and half finished on
the granite island as they moved through the kitchen to a large wood dining
table. The house radiated comfort and a voice in the back on his mind demanded
that he stay forever. He buried the feeling under a pile of fear. Everyone
thought Ted Bundy has been a pretty swell guy too.
No one else followed them, the greeting party drifted off to do their own
things but Stiles had a feel everyone was listening. He realized that Scott and
Laura weren’t around them either. He snapped his head around, panic rising in
the chest, Scott could not just be gone. Talia held onto his forearm and nodded
toward the chair nearest him. Stiles figured it was meant to tell him to sit.
Talia oozed warmth and comfort. Less intense when compared to the heat he felt
around Derek but relaxing all the same.
        “He’s okay. Laura and Derek will have taken him out back and when he
shakes the last of Laura’s control they will explain to him the situation. Help
him understand the change that he is going through a little better. Though I’m
sure Isaac will be more useful when he gets here later.” The panic fizzled and
died just as abruptly as it started. Stiles’ rational mind didn’t trust her,
didn’t even want to listen. Her presence was calming even as he tried to fight
against it. Stiles glared at where her hand was still on him. She eventually
let go and slid into the seat next to him.
        “Isaac is a werewolf...”
        Talia smiled, the resemblance to Laura was easier to see in that smile,
“Yes. An unfortunate circumstance with his dad prompted us to adopt him, if you
will.”
        “You didn’t kidnap him did you?”, scientists hadn’t had any luck with
finding a cure for diarrhea of the mouth. But, it seemed plausible based on his
own first experience in this house.
        Her laugh was loud and boisterous, “No. Of course not. You made quite a
spectacle of yourself when you rushed nobly save Cora and no one was really
sure what to do. No one from the outside has seen as you have for a long time.
So they brought you here for me to decide.”
        “And you decided to threaten me and have Cora break my wrist?”, he
accused, standing now and waving his bandaged wrist in the air so she could
see, “This wasn’t exactly awesome for me!!” He laughed and it was humorless and
bitter.
        “That was a,” She paused flicking her eyes toward the ceiling. The
house was dead quiet above her, “terrible decision. I asked everyone to leave
and let you walk out the front door. Even if you had told who was going to
believe you? It only helped us that nearly seventy of your peers had seen you
at the bonfire where there was lots of alcohol.” Stiles ‘felt’ the honesty in
her words, reassuring against his shock fried mind.
        “Still doesn’t answer why she went all Xena on me.”, he announced
disgruntled. He’d started to move around the room, walking the length from one
wall to the other.
        “Fear. My pack walks a fine line and Cora is the youngest. Doesn’t want
her friends from school to find out.” Talia was being awfully forthright with
her answers, Stiles was at a complete loss.
        She folded her hands in front of her, long fingers braiding into each
other and sat back patiently. This was not a women who needed to resort to
violence, she had patience and time. Stiles bet she would sit there all night
waiting for him to get to the point and not bat an eye. Its takes immense power
to not use it. He was pacing, gesturing to himself and muttering nonsense.
Stiles spun on his heels to face her.
        “Why are you killing the girls?”, demanded Stiles.
        “Laura already answered that. We aren’t.” She was so calm it was
irritating.
        “Who is?” inquired Stiles with more force than he’d meant but it was
getting late and sleep was singing her song urged on by the ache in his legs
and back from exerting himself running through the Preserve. Adrenaline only
shielded a person for so long. Plus, being here, in the Hale house was pulling
Stiles into a sense of security. A bee lured to a flower, if that flower
happened to be an anglerfish.
        “I would like to know the answer to that question too. Whoever is
behind it is smart enough to not leave tracks. It’s turning the Hunters on my
family quite quickly and you’ve seen what they can do.”
        “Hunters? Wait.. are you talking about the arrows that Cora was shot
with? And that there is another family in town that knows werewolves exist and
is hunting them?”
        “There was a truce before the first girl died. I tried to explain but
some beliefs are steadfast.”, calmly she replied. Underneath that soothing
voice she sounded tired like she had tried to explain the situation to stubborn
five year olds. Some people are like that though refuse to listen to anything
new or different.
        Stiles fell silent. He wasn’t sure why she was volunteering all of this
information so readily. They’d only just met but, she had been right if he said
anything no one was going to give him the time of day. He felt comfortable in
this space with the press of warmth around him and found himself drifting to
Derek was around. If he was listening to this conversation through the walls.
If his circle of his arms was as wonderful as it looked. Stiles slammed his
face into his hands and groaned. It just wasn’t healthy to be that fixated on
someone he’s known no more than a week. A person wasn’t really a person for
that matter. Who still might kill him.
        A ghost of a smile played across Talia’s lips. She had to be a mind
reader because the the next thing out of her mouth was; “Ask me.”
        “Are you going to give me a straight answer?”
        "Are you going to ask me the right question?” She rebutted. Took Stiles
a minute to realize she made a joke.
        “Why...”, no that wasn’t it. Damn, he groaned loudly pulling the sound
from his chest. He had no idea what he was going to ask or how to put what he
was feeling into words. 'I have an unexplainable longing to molest your
potentially criminal son' didn't have a nice ring to it, “If I went home, never
saw any of you again, and pretended this never happened could I forget about
it. Or if I moved to Alaska could I get away?”
        Her laughter followed him out into the hallway.
        She declared it was time for everyone to go bed and sound erupted
through the house. They had been still, eavesdropping. Superhuman bastards.
Water started to run upstairs and footsteps marched across wood. Such normal,
human sounds to come from a house full of critters.
        Scott was waiting by the front door. He looked okay now that he wasn’t
all dopey from whatever what been done to him. Another question for another
day. Actually, Scott’s face creased into a wide grin as he muttered about owing
Stiles an apology.
        “I’m sorry I didn’t listen and tried to eat you,” the way he said it
reminded Stiles of when they were eight years old and Scott stole his firetruck
from the house. Ms. McCall had driven him straight back and ordered him to
apologize. Just like then Stiles only laughed and wrapped his arms around his
best friends shoulders. He was still breathing so no harm. Stiles knew this
wasn’t a normal reaction, knew he should be freaking out. Scott relaxed into
his embrace like jello and Stiles wasn’t sure when but the two of them had
started to giggle, equal parts hysteria and relief. A little terror too.
        Talia and Laura who, when they were standing side by side, looked like
a clone of her mother were standing away from the door. Giving them space.
Derek was closer almost to where he could reach in and pull them apart if he
wanted a scowl set across his face. That guy just didn’t smile. Stiles
eyeballed him from over Scott’s shoulder. Enticing as the frown might be he
wanted to see the smile.
        “If you don’t mind humoring a worried old woman and let Derek ride
along with you as you drop Scott off and head home. I like to make sure my
guests make it home safely.” Talia smiled the expression reaching her eyes. A
picture of the concerned mother. From the way everyone listened to her
unquestioning Stiles thought that might be the biggest lie of the night. Stiles
nodded and followed Derek when he took the lead out into the night and to the
Jeep.
        When he turned the key and kicked the engine to life the little glowing
green numbers on his dash made him cringe. 2:15 a.m. is probably one of Stiles
least favorite times. At least the roads would be blessedly empty and the dark
press of night was quiet.
        The drive to Scott’s of eerily devoid of chatter. Scott and Stiles just
exchanged confused glanced in his rearview mirror. It was easy to see Scott
from where he sat in the middle hump of the back. Derek had slid into the
passenger seat and refused to budge when Scott whined about it.
        They dropped Scott off in utter silence each person staring out their
own window. Stiles wasn’t about to break the silence with Derek until they’d
pulled clear away from the house and there was no way Scott could hear even
with his heightened sense.
        Stiles was getting nervous. His hands were clammy making the steering
wheel awkwardly moist. If they took a turn his palms ran along the leather and
squeaked. He was starting to notice signs of strain in Derek the longer they
were stuck, completely alone, together. This level of awkwardness hadn’t been
there in the woods. Stiles chalked it up to adrenaline and that fact Derek had
been careful to keep his distance.
        But now they were theoretically stuck in his Jeep and it seemed too
small. Derek could probably rip the door straight from the hinges if he wanted
out though. You can’t really be trapped if you can punch through steel. Creek
water eyes were blatantly not looking at him now, Derek’s presence was molasses
filling up the jeep thick and rich. Stiles was going to choke on it.
        “Silence is great and all but this is awkward...”
        No reply, what a talker. Stiles pressed on, “Do you run around and howl
at the moon regularly?”
        “I’m not a beast. I’ve got control over it. Scott will too if he
focuses and finds an anchor.”
        “An anchor, like what?” Stiles gave his best dazzling smile. He was a
champion of ‘Fake it Till You Make it’. Derek looked like he relaxes a notch,
maybe not, but he could hope. Relaxed people don’t normally commit homicide.
        “Something to focus on to keep the wolf at bay. Just because he shifts,
and he doesn’t really have to do that, doesn’t mean you have to forget who you
are.” His voice tapered off into the dark of the truck.
        “Can it be anything?”
        “An anchor needs to be strong. Really strong,” Derek had turned to face
him in his seat. Back pressed against the gap between seat and window. Stiles
was compelled to keep him talking as they turned down his street.
        “What’s yours?” Oops. Derek’s face hardened. He’s thrown up that
protective shield and a frown in a second.
        “I’m not sure anymore.” He was being honest, at least he hadn’t shut
him out completely.
        “You just said it had to be strong. So important. How could you not be
sure?” pried Stiles. What did Derek expect? He dangled that beautiful piece of
information in from of him and know he really wanted to know.
        “It’s --”
“If you say its complicated I swear to god.”
        Derek’s mouth shut into a tight line. He looked unsure, as nervous as
Stiles felt. Good, let him be closed off and see where that got him. They were
pulling into the driveway anyway. The guy wasn’t even going to answer and had a
foot out the door before the engine died.
        “I’m going to cir-”, Derek started but his frowned only deepened to
stop the flow of works, “Go in inside.”
        Stiles scrambled out of the Jeep his key chain catching on the handle
making it so he had to stop and untangle the stupid plastic loop, “Just because
you can rip out my throat with your teeth doesn’t mean you get to act like a
dick.” He looked up expecting to see a scowl. Nothing. He’d been talking to
empty air. The tingly warmth and comfort Stiles hadn’t known he was
experiencing left in a woosh like someone opened a door and all the air was
sucked inside. Panic, fear, and the simmering anger slammed down against his
psyche.
        Protected, it dawned on him as he went into his house and to his room.
He’d been feeling protected in Derek’s presence like nothing was going to harm
him or perhaps that someone was guarding him. The lyrics to Not While I’m
Around bounced around his head and drew a laugh. Yeah, all he needed was a
maniac with a razor. On second thought, he didn’t need that all. Fanged people,
hunters killing said fanged people, and a mysterious third party that was
running around killing girls; his plate was full. Thank you, no need for
seconds.
       Stiles carefully ignored the way that loneliness crept into the pit of
his gut and breathed ice into him that night. He’d say he tossed and turned all
night because of the bruises starting to form from Scott pushing him to the
ground. Not murky creek water eyes and how it felt to be in his presence.
 
===============================================================================
 
     
        He’d given up sleeping around six opting for a scalding shower. Nothing
to see here, just a normal teenage boy. Stiles blew out a huff of air. If only.
He’d still felt hollow, chilled afterwards and shrugged on a sweater to pull
tight around him. There was a huge piece of this puzzle he was missing and it
was eating him alive. If the Hales weren’t killing the girls like he’d thought,
Stiles was keeping them on the suspect list, who was? Someone, or thing, who
was smart enough to pit two factions against each other so that the heat wasn’t
on them.
        His Dad came in through the front door quietly the bags around his eyes
purple and deep. They added another ten years to him. The Sheriff collapsed
into the chair across from Stiles at the dinner table and ran the back of his
hand along his forehead. His dad did that when he was fidgety, wiped at non-
existent sweat.
        "We found that girl. The camper. Torn to shreds just like the other
one.”
        Stiles felt a little green the image of her tattered stomach was fresh
in his mind. He’d almost completely forgotten about her. He didn’t think there
were any cops that were in with the Hales. Talia might have called and left an
anonymous tip. It was more likely they left the girl scattered with all her
pieces until the police’s search widened enough to find her.
        " And...?” He wasn’t meeting his dad’s eyes, that man could sniff out
the truth when it was being withheld. Not like the Sheriff would believe it
anyway but it was best to look inconspicuous.
        “An animal? She was torn apart,” The Sheriff made a gesture his hands
that could have been him breaking spaghetti noodles in half. It wasn’t
inaccurate. “I don’t even know what could do that to a person. A bear maybe if
it was angry enough? They avoid campers though. Nothing that strong is in this
part of California.” His dad was outter logging, just talking to hear thoughts
said aloud and Stiles had always been a good soundboard. It was how they
started to bond again after his mother had passed.
        The Sheriff his head low between his shoulders and slumped, “Son,
shouldn’t you be getting to school?” Always the parent.
Chapter End Notes
     Chapter 5 Preview: Scott just rolled his eyes and chuckled, “It was
     candy! But, are we going to the Hale’s or not? Laura and Derek
     offered to help me learn how to control this. Well, Laura offered and
     Derek stood near the kitchen door listening to you and Talia. That
     dude is seriously creepy.”
     “He’s not that bad...” Stiles stressed the ‘a’ to make his point.
     “He whined, whined like a dog when Laura grabbed him by his shirt to
     keep him from following you.”
     “You were high with wolf fever, you probably hallucinated.”
      
     (I realize I completely chucked out last weeks preview, this is more
     true to form)
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter Summary
     Who's really at the top of the Beacon Hills food chain?
Chapter Notes
     I am so nervous about posting this chapter. Take with a grain of salt
     because I feel that. even if it doesn't make complete sense, it's
     necessary for the plot.
     OHGODI"MSORRY
     As always, thank you to the lovely Breanna and strong Kevin for
     helping me!!
     ***WARNING: PLEASE READ***
     There is minor character death in this chapter!!!! And it's fairly
     descriptive!! If blood, projectiles, or death bother you please take
     caution!!
     ***WARNING: PLEASE READ***
See the end of the chapter for more notes
       The first half of his school day passed quickly. Math, bio and his TA
period whizzed by until lunch. He was tense. Waiting for something to jump out,
grab him, and pull him away to slaughter.
The only relief coming in the form of Nacho day so the cafeteria ladies were
busy dumping spoon fulls of warmed up meat by-product and melted cheese onto
cheap tortilla chips. Of course there was always the option of pizza. It was
technically a vegetable in the state of California now. Nutritious. Stiles
loved nacho day because Freshman year he made it in good with the ladies and if
he asked nicely they would pour massive amounts of cheese over the thick fries
they served everyday. It really was his silver lining at the moment.
       He got three orders knowing he’d eat two leaving one for Scott who
wasn’t so lucky with the ladies. Sitting on the metal bench on the usual table
he couldn’t have been more surprised if Lydia Martin, the most beautiful
example of perfect in this school, herself sat down beside him. An acute stab
of dislike flared inside him at the thought of her. That was... weird. Stiles
pushed it aside to handle later. Priorities, and right now Isaac was lowering
down to sit next to him looking at Stiles like he’d grown a third head. Maybe
more of his internal struggle was showing on his face than he was aware of.
       Isaac composed himself quickly, “What did you think of Talia. Something
else, huh?”
       “How do you know that I met her?”
       “Because he was there last night. You were too busy making doe eyes at
my brother to notice though.” Cora dropped herself into the seat across from
Isaac much to Stiles distain. He scooted away and out of arm's reach. No way
Stiles was going to be close enough for her to reach out and grab him.
       “I was not! Why would you even?”, sputtered with embarrassment. He was
just making sure Derek wasn’t going to eat him. Ya know, the growling and all
that.
       Isaac was grinning to himself and Cora looked pleased. Stiles wanted to
wipe that look of her face. They were not buddy buddy and Stiles wasn’t
planning on being her friend any time soon. Was it so hard to get one lunch
period free of that particular brand of crazy?
       “Isaac does that mean you are a...? I know Talia said but.” Stiles let
his voice trail off. Isaac grinned up at him, his teeth subtly pointy. The
features were gone as quickly leaving Stiles to wonder if he was being hyper
aware. His brain was still struggling to acknowledge this new version of
reality. And the baggage seemed to keep piling on.
       Where the hell was Scott? Late as always. Stiles craned his neck around
the cafeteria, his two companions starting up a conversation about how stupid
Derek looked when he growled at his mother. Stiles didn’t think it was funny.
Nothing about that at been funny. Scott finally appeared through the doors and
their eyes caught immediately. Scott pushed through the crowd with Allison in
tow who was all smiles as always.
       “Dude, I try to eat you just a little bit and you replace me with these
two? Bad form, man.”
       “Spare me! I don’t know where they came from but suddenly they’ve
decided they like the grass right next to me.” Stiles pushed the third bowl of
cheese fries across the table at Scott. He fist pumped into the air excitedly.
       “You and Scott feel like pack so we want to be around you,” interjected
Isaac. Cora shot him a squinted look. Stiles knew immediately they were hiding
something, felt it like a trigger in his gut, and Isaac was cutting close to
the truth. Scott didn’t seem to care only nodding and turning his attention to
Allison. She was animatedly reliving something that happened in drama.
       “Scott I understand, he’s one of you but how can I feel like... that?
I’m not like that.”, His eyes zapped to Allison still engrossed her in story.
Stiles was going to get information out of one them other people be damned.
Isaac was pliable, soft and Stiles was banking on him breaking first. Cora
jumped onto his track of thought like a champion by kicking Isaac’s shin hard
enough he flinched and reached under the table to rub at his leg.
       “You were at our house last night with our mother. A little transfer is
bound to happen.” Excellent recovery. Ten points to Hale House. Watch out
Slytherin, but Stiles was tired of being lied to.
       “Transfer. I don’t buy that for a minute. What does that even mean?”
       “How about you come to the house after school and chat?” Cora asked
sweetly, if her smile was meant to be inviting it failed miserably. She batted
her eyes innocently. Might as well have been asking him over to do homework.
       “And get eaten? I think I’ll pass.”
       “God, you’re stupid. You don’t know half of what’s going on so forgive
us for trying to educate you. It’s kind of an all or nothing situation. Sense
nothing is off the table for you the only option left is all.”
       “The Hales are awesome anyway. Laura is really funny once you get to
know her”, added Isaac. He looked one hundred percent behind Cora on this. His
face eager and happy. Talia did say they had ‘adopted’ him from a bad
situation. Could saved have been a better word?
       Stiles just shook his head wryly and shoved a few fries into his mouth.
He slapped at Scott’s arm playfully until they were hitting each other and
laughing from across the table. For a few minutes he was going to pretend that
nothing weird was happening in his life. Isaac and Cora seemed to get the
message and left followed shortly by Allison who insisted she needed to go to
the library and catch Lydia before class.
       “Are we going to the Hale’s later?” Scott asked spooning cheese out of
the bottom of the styrofoam bowl with his finger.
       “You were listening!?”
       “Well, yeah! This hearing is awesome! I can listen to a bunch of
different things at once.”
       “That is completely unfair! What if I was trying to keep that a secret.”
       “Stiles, you haven’t been able to keep a secret from me since fourth
grade. Remember you stole my gummy worms and felt so bad you called your dad
and begged until he brought you more to give to me. You insisted he use lights
and sirens.”
       “I was nine and it was urgent!!”
Scott just rolled his eyes and chuckled, “It was candy! But, are we going to
the Hale’s or not? Laura and Derek offered to help me learn how to control
this. Well, Laura offered and Derek stood near the kitchen door listening to
you and Talia. That dude is seriously creepy.”
       “He’s not that bad...” Stiles stressed the ‘a’ to make his point. Why
was he defending him anyway?
       “He whined, whined like a dog when Laura grabbed him by his shirt to
keep him from following you.”
       “You were high with wolf fever, you probably hallucinated.”
       “No man. He was freaking out that he couldn’t be in that room with you.
Pacing, listening in to the conversation even though it wasn’t hard to hear,
being fidgety. That is like on the first page of Freaky Stalker 101. I don’t
like him.”
       “If he is so weird why do you want to go back?!” Whiplash probably felt
better than this.
       “Because of Allison. I can’t control it very well and I don’t want her
to know or for her to get hurt.”
       “I don’t think it’s going to be that simple Scott.”
       “Neither do I, but I don’t want you to get hurt either. I know that
unless you’ve satisfied your curiosity, you’re just going to go looking for
answers and, if you haven’t noticed, two people have already died alone in the
woods.”
       “Alright, we’ll go. We ask questions and you get your sensei on.”
       Scott nodded in agreement and went to dump their bowls into a trashcat.
The last three classes went by quickly. Only slowing down long enough for
Stiles to endure Harris’ blind hatred for him. The world could be ending and
Lucifer himself would rise from the pit to make everyone stop long enough to
make Stiles go to Physics. Scott sat beside him and doodled ugly stick figures
of Harris when his back was turned. Good times.
       By the time the final bell rang releasing them from class, Stiles had
firmly decided that no, he was not going to go “hang out” with the Hales. He
was already up to his elbows in insanity. There was no reason to purposefully
drown himself. Scott only pouted a little bit when he told him as they walked
to their lockers. The flow of students normalizing in the background.
       “You already said we should go! Don’t like we should just go see what
they have to say?”
       “Talia told me everything I wanted to know last night,” it was a lie if
Stiles ever told one.
       “Yeah, okay, sure and normally I would agree with you, but-”
       “But? Scott! You said yourself they were spooky.”
       “I said Derek was creepy. The rest of them seemed okay. What if I lose
control and freak out on Allison?” Scott’s voice rose with a hint of panic.
Damn it he had a good point, if another body show’d up ripped to shreds, he
didn’t want it to be Scott who put it there.
       “Oh come now, Stiles, Scotty boy just wants to learn. It’s the best idea
I’ve heard all day.” Laura stepped out of thin air and threw her arms around
Scott’s shoulders. She squeezed him tightly and gave her best shit-eating grin.
The fact that nearly six feet of beautiful lace dress and leather jacket got
into the school campus shouldn’t surprise him. She probably just batted her
eyes at Gerald the Rent-a-Cop and he ran to open the door for her.
       Scott tried to wiggle away and her manicured hand softened to let him
scoot away. Free, Scott turned and, no shit, high fived her with a smile.
       “I was just telling Stiles that we needed to take Cora up on her offer!”
Could he sound more excited. Stiles was leery to be so enthused about her. He’d
only met her twice one of those times fanged out and he’d missed the Scott/
Laura/Derek bonding festivities.
       She laughed then, deep and throaty, and Stiles reluctantly felt himself
slip into the sound, “I told her that wouldn’t work. Not after she got pissy
and broke his wrist, I’m sorry about that by the way. We’ll pay for the bill if
you want, though your dad being the Sheriff I think covers it.” spoke Laura
genuinely. No malice or ill intent just the calm confidence he’d seen in Talia.
       “No, it’s fine.” Stiles huffed staring at the little black specks of the
tile’s floor and wiggling his fingers sticking out the lime green cast. She
didn’t bat an eye reaching out grab the boys by their wrists and pull them
toward the exit. Scott shrugged and gave him a look that plainly read ‘Look she
isn’t bad at all.’
       Stepping outside Stiles shielded his eyes against the glaring afternoon
sun thankful when Laura dropped their wrists and started to climb into her
cherry red Mustang.
       “Get in, losers.” She laughed at her own joke while Scott eagerly jumped
into the tiny back seat of the car like it was Christmas. She wouldn’t be able
to needle her way into Stiles with pop culture reference so easily Stiles
assured himself He didn’t want to like Laura, really, he didn’t want to like
any of the Hales, but he did. Standing on the curb Stiles watched Laura joke
with Scott and thought, for just a second, that it fit.
       “ This in the middle of the day? Not very subtle.” He was going to be
childish and test her.
       “Derek’s Charger next time? Much more subtle.” She deadpanned in return.
Stiles sat down gingerly as Laura pulled away from the curb the purr of the
engine remarkably quiet. Sitting in the car beside Laura and Scott listening to
them joke around, occasionally breaking his silence to add something, Stiles
felt more comfortable than he had in days.
       It was peacefully normal to be roaring, Laura believed that if you were
going under fifty five you might as well be stopped, through the background of
Beacon Hills with these two. Scott managed to break him of his silence by
insisting Stiles reenact how he tried to jump from the roof of Scott’s house
onto a trampoline and into a pool.
       They rounded the corner up onto the dirt road that led to the Hale House
and fell into amicable silence. Trees folded behind them obscuring the path in
front and shadowing the road behind them. It made sense that the Hales would
build their home so far back into the woods. No one was going to wonder this
far back here to investigate howling.
       “Does it make it easier to be separated like this?” Stiles asked into
the hush of the car.
       "Yes and no. We try very hard to have normal lives. Mom insisted we went
to public school and have as many normal human experiences as possible. There
are some packs that never leave their compound, I guess it breeds a lot of fear
and distrust to pull away like that.”
       “Wouldn’t it be safer though? The Hunters walk around town to. Couldn’t
they follow you back here?”
Laura nodded slowly, her eyes drifting to look at Stiles from the side, “Yes,
there is always the possibility but we take measures against it and the Hunters
here, the Argent’s, have a treaty without Alpha and strict code.”
       “Hey! That is Allison’s last name.”
       Laura leveled Scott with a look in her rearview mirror, “I know.”
Stiles waited one tense beat before starting up his line of questioning again,
“What about now that people are dying? Talia said that the hunters were blaming
you guys.”
       Laura tsked, the soft sound of tongue against teeth, “That is true. We
woke up to an arrow in our door this morning. A warning that they would take
action soon.” She said it so calmly that Stiles might not have known she was
talking about a threat.
       “What are they going to do?” Scott questioned leaning forward so his
head was between the few front seats.
       “I don’t know. My mother and our emissary have been gone most the day in
talks with them. There is a divide amongst the Hunters too, one half wants to
give us a chance to prove we aren’t killers. The other is already sharpening
their pitchforks.”
       The car wound into the wide curve of the drive way, parking in front of
a very middle america garage. Derek was propped up against one side. He
stiffened when the trio clamoured out of the car and made their way over to
him. Stiles felt like a vice that had been strapped tight over his lungs was
loosening the closer he got. Scowl not deterring the feeling like wrapping
himself in a blanket fresh from dryer that followed stepping into the circle of
Derek’s presence. Stiles folded his arms over his chest and didn’t meet any
eyes. This was embarrassingly not okay.
       Laura’s looked from him to Derek her face splitting into a grin to rival
and Jack’o’latern. She was laughing at a joke Stiles didn’t get and it bothered
him. A lot. Not knowing something in general just bothered him. Stiles focused
on the noise of people moving around the house and the trickle of voices from
around the back.
       “Der, take the kiddies and show them some tricks. They aren’t too old
yet.” Great, dog jokes.
 
===============================================================================
 
     
        “You need to focus. You’re too worried about everything else. Be here,
now.” Sage words coming from a guy who looked ready to strangle someone. Derek
was standing shirtless, no Stiles was not ogling, a few yards away from Scott
looking down him with disapproval. Scowl firmly set in place. That sour
expression definitely wasn’t attractive in a devil may care sort of way, not
coupled with the etched planes of his body. Nope. Stiles flopped back into the
grass watching the lazy clouds float by and listening to Scott whine.
       “We’ve been at this for hours I need to catch my breath.” panted Scott.
He was sitting on his ass with his arms stretch out behind him, holding him up.
The two of them had started practicing immediately after arriving at the Hale
house after school. Trying to teach Scott control of his wolf was more
difficult than Stiles had guessed.. With that and Scott’s stubbornness they
weren’t getting anywhere. What had started as a lesson in control disintegrated
into full on sparring. Mostly it was Derek throwing Scott like a rag doll onto
the ground until he had enough and Isaac took his place. Isaac was currently
sitting against to a tree nearby closer to the action than Stiles. Derek had
deemed that he needed to be at least fifty feet away which was ridiculous. He
was human not stupid. Stiles wasn’t going to freak out and attract Scott’s
attention when he was all wolfed out. He’d already done that anyway.
       The four of them were on the preserve tucked away in a small clearing
that was surrounded by dense trees. The trees narrowed enough to see through to
the right for a few yards before opening up to a wide open field. It’s grass
blazed golden in the falling California sun making Stiles squint to see across
it.
       “Where is Laura? I like her more. She doesn’t hit me as hard.” Derek
scoffed and pulled Scott to his feet but there might have been a tiny smile
there. It was apparent he loved his family despite the statuesque attitude.
That, and he’d fondly patted Isaac on the pack and squeezed Cora around the
shoulders when he thought Scott and Stiles weren’t looking before leaving to
come practice here. Seeing that Derek wasn’t stone cold had blossomed warmth in
his chest where it lingered. Whirring contentedly know that he was watching
Derek teach Scott.
       Stiles didn’t think Scott had noticed though he’d was too wrapped up in
watching Peter putz around a fenced off garden in the Hales’ back yard. He
looked exactly like he had the dream so Stiles recognized him immediately as he
kneeled next to Talia poking at purple flowers with heavily gloved hands. Talia
looked up to greet them in her own time remarking that the plants were a lesson
for another day. She gracefully moved beside her daughter and the two
disappeared into the house with hushed whispers. Before long there was the
sound of tires on gravel.
       “She’ll be here soon. Don’t be a baby, you’ll heal.”
       “It still hurts!”, but Scott was already crouched down and ready for
another round. Love was the mighty motivator after all.
       Scott lunged, a blurred smudge to Stiles’ eyes, and attempted to wrap
his arms around Derek’s waist. The man truck hoisted Scott up and over his
shoulders so that he fell to the ground with a firm thump.
       “I’m always going to throw you. Find a way to defend yourself that
doesn’t mean charging right at it something twice your size and skill level.”
       “What good is being a werewolf if I can’t move you!”
       Derek rolled his eyes so hard Stiles thought they might pop right out.
His lips opened to say something, but jerked his head to the thin barrier of
trees. Isaac and Scott followed suit brought to attention by something Stiles
could neither see or hear.
       A figure stepped out from the other side of the field into the falling
sunshine. Slim even from distance her hair whipped up in the wind. Laura. She
wrestled her hair into a pony and was walking across the field slow and with
leisure. She gave a wave and said something that made Isaac cackle. Damn wolves
and that hearing, Stiles doubted he even had to strain to catch it.
       They were watching Laura when she stopped. Her body jerked once and she
stumbled forward. Isaac was running then full bore into the open field without
thought. He howled at something Stiles couldn’t see and it ripped through his
core. Laura’s body jerked again and she tumbled to one knee still too distant
for Stiles to make anything out. In the confusion Scott and Derek were blurs of
speed barreling into the harsh light of the sunset. Everything he saw was stark
against the blinding light. It moved so quickly that his line of sight narrowed
to watch the backs of three running men and the slumped body that wavered with
the wind. There was no way he was going to keep up as he started sprint,
trailing behind them slowly
       Isaac was sliding in next to Laura as another arrow, he could see them
now jutting long and smooth out of her back, shot across the field and sunk
into her back spurting blood like rain onto the dried brown field. She cried
out into the air and fell into Isaac’s outstretched arms. More arrows starting
to sink into the ground around where Isaac was clutching Laura. Her eyes were
closed and unmoving. How had they not known? Stiles looked wildly around the
field trying to find where the shots were being fired from
       Derek was next to get in front of him suddenly bellowing out commands,
“Isaac grab her! We need to get back to the trees!” As another arrow sank into
the ground dangerously close to Stiles feet. Derek looked wildly into the tree
line his eyes alight with blue fire. Realizing that they’d run right into the
open, stupid and panic they’d moved directly into the line of fire. Derek
hauled Isaac, Laura still motionless and awkward in his arms, to his feet and
dragged him back toward the woods.
       No one was moving besides Derek for a moment too afraid and shocked to
run. Stiles heard the thump of something sinking into the ground near it, then
another. Shit. He ran. Screamed for Scott as he turned tail and booked it. If
his best friend replied he couldn’t hear it from the pounding of his own heart
in his ears.
       Isaac was slower with Laura in his arms but reached the woods before
Stiles. Isaac turned back his mouth opened in a silent scream. What was he
doing?
       Something hard hit against his thigh and Stiles stumbled against the
shock. Lunging forward to run again his leg collapsed completely. Balance
completely gone Stiles fell face first into the ground. His chest slammed into
dirt and the unforgiving grass has he fell. It stabbed angrily at his bare arms
as he struggled to stand. Stiles tried to use his hands to push back onto his
knees only to crumble back to the ground. His broken wrist wailed in protest as
he put too much weight on it. His thigh stung and Stiles craned back to see.
Seeing the arrow sticking erect out of his thigh brought the pain. Seering hot
and spittling.
       With enough adrenaline pumping through his veins to cool the pain Stiles
ended up half crawling half dragging himself before strong hands were lifting
him into the air. He struggled arms and legs lashing out furiously. His captor
had his nose pressed against the curve of Stiles’ neck as he propelled the two
of them into the dark shadowy safety of the trees.
       Stiles felt himself being pushed, face first into the cool loves of the
floor with the man pushing into his back. Thick, dark forearms pressed against
the ground on either side of his shoulders. Derek dug his nose back into the
crease of Stiles’ neck while one hand grabbed firmly at the lower part of
Stiles’ thigh just under the arrow.
       “Hold still!”
       Stiles stilled immediately froze, warmth lapping at the terror around
his heart. It was dim but underneath the fear was a beaconing safety mixed with
a fear that he didn’t recognize. To faint to be his own he turn his head in the
dirt to stare back at Derek, Derek snuffled his way down the center column of
Stiles back until he face to face with the arrow. Pressing feather light
touches were it sunk into his flesh. Blood, oozing out slowly, staining Derek’s
finger tips.
       “Derek, Laura!! Help me.. oh god,” Isaac’s whimpering turned into
nonsense that pulled Derek away from Stiles. He was muttering about nothing
holding Laura as tight to his chest as he could. Her breath rattled as her
chest stuttered to pull in air.
       Black inky stains crept up the tanned column of her neck and twisted
around her arms. She struggled to turn her head and open her mouth. Dark blood
dripped from her mouth as she gaped at Derek. It was a terrible comparison but
Stiles could only think of fish out of water. That inability to breath when air
was all around you.
       Derek was off him then and kneeling next to Laura. With the weight of
his back Stiles turned his body in their direction. Isaac was devastated his
face shattering and it made him look much young. The sobbing face of a child
next to the firm lines of Derek’s face. He reached to clasp at Laura’s neck.
She offered a weak, choked smile her body shaking now as she fought to hold on.
Isaac’s grip only tightened dropping his head to rest on her shoulder, hiding
the tears from the world.
       Derek was dazed with shock and lost, it was noticeable in the awkward
way he pulled the two forward into his broad chest so that Laura’s lifeless
head was resting under his chin. His fingers lacing around Isaac’s back. The
warmth that had been soothing away his pain was receding leaving a soiled path
in it’s wake. It grew into something large that smothering Stiles in
desperation and hopelessness.       Choking in his throat until Stiles’ felt
moisture on his cheeks.
       Stiles hated them. Hating the hunters in that moment so extremely that
he felt bile rise into his mouth. It was unfathomable how much fear, fear on
every side of this, had destroyed another person. He jerked his head away from
the trio to find Scott standing near looking uncomfortable and horrified. He
was crying too and Stiles couldn’t place the emotions flickering across his
friend’s face. He wasn’t about to call him on it.
Chapter End Notes
     Chapter Six Preview: They were getting restless now, the pain ebbing
     into anger and cawing for revenge. The shift from one emotion to
     other swept through the room on black wings, tainting the girl laid
     bare in front of them.
     “Sister, we need to track them down. Remind them of our strength.”
     Peter approached the table and rested himself against it with the
     palms of his hands.
     “No,” Talia's voice was soft, tired.
     “If we don’t they will know we are weak. What will stop them from
     attacking us outright?! They've already proven that they don’t need
     the cover of darkness.” Peter pressed his argument sounding a little
     rehearsed for Stiles' taste.
      
     Come say hi to me on my tumblr!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!