Beacon Hills Eye Clinic [6/?]
Title: Beacon Hills Eye Clinic
Pairings: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski/Cora Hale, Scott McCall/Isaac Lahey, Peter Hale/Lydia Martin, Cora Hale/Allison Argent (All pre-established relationships)
Other character: Miss Morell
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3,248
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.
Warning: none
Summary: Peter gets a nice compensation for not suing the clinic and Derek goes to see Miss Morell. Stiles steps up to the plate, but the universe has other plans for him.
Previously in ‘Beacon Hills Eye Clinic’…
Stiles’ Jeep had broken down in the middle of the road that Cora had taken on her way to work. While he had been grateful for her help, Stiles had ended up with lipstick on his cheek and a guilty heart for having enjoyed the kiss. Then all hell had broken loose when Derek and Peter had showed up at the clinic together, dressed in leather. Scott had punched Peter in the jaw and Stiles had run out of the office.
“Haahhh…”
A long, frustrated sigh filled the cold silence in the Jeep. For once, Stiles wasn’t in the mood to listen to the radio. It might be quiet inside the car, but there was already enough noise inside his head. It had been three days since he had been victimized by the leathered Hales. No matter how hard he had been trying to move on, his mind was stuck on that disastrous day. His brain apparently knew how to hang on to images that were seen once in a lifetime.
It was as if God had said, ‘Let there be leather’. And, as if wearing leather hadn’t been destructive enough, the Hales had proceeded to take them off. The Lord had tested him and he had failed, running out of his office. That was just one of his theories though. He had also wondered if the Hales worked for the American Medical Ethics Committee. Perhaps they created the most seductive creatures in their secret underground lab and sent them to the newest clinics.
While he had locked himself in the broom closet, saving Stiles Jr. from exploding, Scott had struck a deal with Peter. The patient had demanded an eye massage and a date. It was a relief that he had even agreed to a deal. The clinic was still so young and the last thing that it needed was bad publicity.
He didn’t blame his nurse for what had gone down. He had hit the panic button with his head and Scott had only been looking out for him. It had been both touching and shocking; he hadn’t thought that his best friend was capable of doing such a thing. If he hadn’t been so turned on already, Stiles Jr. might’ve been inspired by the heroic action.
“Oh, no. No, no!” Stiles clutched at the wheel as the Jeep slowed down against his will. “Urgh, come on, Jeepie! Don’t do this to me! What happened to you and me forever?”
Sadly, the Jeep only moved a few more feet before coming to a stop. Stiles felt his heart sink at its dying sound. The mechanic had warned him that this could happen again, but he hadn’t expected it to be so soon. He called the insurance company, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu. If this was happening all over again, Cora Hale would show up and he’d end up with a scarlet mark on his face. He just hoped that the tow truck would come faster than her.
“Say no to patients! Say no to patients!” He yelled out his mantra as he waited. He didn’t want to be wishy-washy like Charlie Brown. If Cora Hale or any other patient attempted to give him a kiss, he would put his foot down instead of flailing his arms.
“Hmm…” It was impossible to beat the werewolf speed though. Perhaps he could cover his face with a scarf and a woolly hat. It was the right weather, so nobody would think twice. In the clinic, he could always wear a mask. As unnecessary as it was, it would look professional and sanitary.
“Dr. Stilinski? You’re stuck again? What are the odds?”
Stiles jumped as a French choir sang ‘Déjà vuuuuu~’ in his ears. He was quick to pick up the scarf from the passenger seat and wrap it around his face. Then he rolled down the window with an awkward smile. “Good morning, Miss Hale. Haha, yeah, what are the odds…”
“Perhaps it’s time to get a new one? This one looks ancient.” Cora got out of her car.
“He’s not ancient. He’s mature.” Stiles jumped out of the Jeep and started to push it. He didn’t want to owe her anymore.
“Well, mature or not, Jeeps are heavy. Want some help?” Cora watched the human struggle.
“No thanks. I got this.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, thank you.”
“If you say so.” Cora leaned against her car and wondered if she could help him in another way. “Hey, doctor. Do you work out?”
“Does it look like I work out?” Stiles asked through gritted his teeth. When had his boy gotten so heavy? It was probably all the stuff in the back.
Cora laughed. This was a new side of him. “You’re welcome to drop by my gym any time. I train celebrities exclusively, but you seem to be the celebrity of the town.”
“Thanks for the offer, Miss Hale. But it’s the lack of will, not the lack of a trainer that got me here.”
“A good trainer can give you a will.” Cora helped the doctor change the direction of the Jeep. She didn’t want him to keep going straight, pushing it all the way to the clinic.
“Will you get in your car and drive away if I tell you I’ll think about it?” Stiles managed to get the Jeep off the main road.
“Hmm, let me think…” Cora tapped her chin.
“Do you think you can do that in your car?”
Cora looked at the doctor with a laugh. “Fine. Let me give you my card and leave you alone.”
She slipped her business card into the doctor’s coat pocket as he tightened his grip on his scarf. Thanks to the frosty weather, his skin looked paler today. She gave him a wistful smile before heading to her car. The doctor already smelled nice, but he would smell so much nicer as a Hale.
“Have a great day, Miss Hale!”
Cora waved and got in her car. She had taken this road every morning since she had run into the doctor. She had kept telling herself that it was the pretty scenery and the empty road, but the doctor might’ve left her some good memories. She checked the rearview mirror, only to bite her lips. The doctor was patting the hood of the Jeep, his shoulders drooping. She knew next to nothing about cars, but it didn’t look promising when the Jeep had stopped twice in a few days. Hoping that the car would get fixed, she focused on her own problems.
What was she doing here? Did she want to complicate her life? She preferred casual relationships and didn’t want to make the doctor break his rules for a fling. Then there was her brother. Hadn’t she wanted to push the doctor towards him? So where was this greed coming from? She rolled down all the windows and picked up the speed. This was going to be her last time on this road.
Cora wasn’t the only patient who had noticed the doctor’s sad mood. Peter sighed as he sat down in the office. He was forced to pull out one of his emergency chocolate balls from his man purse. “Here. If I wanted a gloomy doctor, I would’ve gone to Dr. Greenberg.”
“Thanks.” Stiles pulled down his mask and dug into the ball.
“Since when do you wear a mask?” Peter glared at the ugly, blue thing that hid those pretty lips.
“Since this morning! This clinic takes hygiene issues very seriously.” Stiles felt a little bit chirpy again. The chocolate was awesome.
“Then why isn’t the other hot doc wearing one too?” Peter grunted. “I saw her in the waiting room.”
“She doesn’t want to ruin her lipstick. But don’t worry. She’ll come around.”
Peter folded his arms and took a good look at the doctor. He didn’t buy it, but his ears told him that he wasn’t lying.
“Do you have another one?” Stiles smacked his lips.
“What are you? A chocolate thief?” Peter reached into his purse and pulled out two more.
“Thanks. These are great!”
“They’re from Switzerland.”
After trying and failing to yodel with a ball in his mouth, Stiles decided to stick with what he did best.
“I’m so sorry about the other day.” He pulled up his mask and wheeled his chair towards Peter’s. “And, thank you for cutting us some slack.”
“Well, a massage and a date are far more pleasant than a lawsuit.” Peter looked at the doctor as he expertly pressed around his eyes.
“Uh, perhaps you should close your eyes.” Stiles found the icy blue eyes distracting.
“Why would I want to do that? I’m enjoying the view.” Peter grinned. “But aren’t you glad you’re an eye doctor? Think about what you would’ve been doing instead if you weren’t.”
“Haha, tell me about it. Ahaha…” Many types of doctor on patient action went through Stiles’ mind.
“By the way, I noticed your Jeep was missing from the parking lot. Is that why you needed my balls?”
Stiles gave Peter the stink eye as he ignored the question and the utterly smug face. “It’s in the shop. How do you even know I own a Jeep?”
“Cora may have mentioned it over dinner.”
“Oh.” Stiles put extra pressure on Peter’s temples. He didn’t want to talk about the Jeep or Cora.
Peter winced and changed the subject. Temples were vital points even to werewolves. “Have you thought about where you want to go tomorrow? Too bad there isn’t a chocolate factory around here.”
“No, I haven’t. But I’m fine with wherever you want to go.” Stiles wondered if he’d live to regret this. Where did evil masterminds hang out on a Saturday?
“Then let me give you something else to choose. What kind of leather gloves do you want to see tomorrow? I happen to collect gloves.”
Stiles almost bit his silver tongue. He just couldn’t catch a break.
“Tsk tsk, no need to smell so distressed. I’ve taken some pictures to give you an idea.” Peter handed his phone to the doctor.
“Wow, how thoughtful of you. But I’m sure any pair would do!” Stiles had one eye closed as he looked through the pictures. Peter’s hand looked amazing in those gloves. “But why do you even need gloves? Werewolves have a higher body temperature.”
“Ah, that’s the kind of thing you ask tomorrow, on a date.” Peter got his phone back and stood up. It was time to make a dramatic exit. “Think about it and text me the ones you like, okay?”
He pulled out a pair of leather gloves and took his time putting them on. “And, I could print these out for you if you want. All of them.”
At that very moment, Stiles learned the wet way that a mask was a decent substitute for a bib. It was true that you got to learn something new every day.
“So, Mr. Hale, Dr. Stilinski has mentioned some of the issues you have.” Miss Morell gave her new patient a reassuring smile. It had taken her a while to learn his issues by heart, but she lived for challenges.
“He did?” Derek didn’t like the air of mystery in her.
“Indeed. Your first psychotic girlfriend betrayed your trust and set your house on fire. That fire killed most of your family. Then your uncle betrayed your trust and killed one of your sisters. So you killed him, but he didn’t stay dead and now you stalk him in his parking lot.”
Derek tried to protest, but she held up a finger. Stalking was serious business. “Then the Alpha pack took out two of your betas and gave you a hard blow to the head. And, your second psychotic girlfriend went on a killing spree in some other town. Am I right?”
“Yeah.” Derek shrugged. “I also thought I had lost my younger sister in the fire, but it turned out she’d been alive the whole time. I don’t know who got burnt to death in her place though. And, it was my own claws that killed one of my betas. Then there’s this powerful urge to kill my uncle again. This time, nothing’s going to stop me from cutting him in half. But I’m here for something else today.”
Miss Morell blinked. There was something else? She had estimated that the patient needed at least twenty-three years of extensive therapy. It had taken her hours to come up with a number. There were only a few therapists in the whole country that could do that and treat all those issues in a relatively short time. And, twenty-three years was only counting the issues that the doctor had mentioned. Now that the patient had told her more, she would like to add a couple more years.
“Then what are you here for?” She decided that she could treat the latest issue first.
Derek had pondered on how to say this, but there was no good way to say it. “I need to mate with Dr. Stilinski.”
Miss Morell casually threw in another year. Derek Hale would be her last patient before she retired. “How many times have you seen him?”
“Three times.”
“And, how many times did you meet your last girlfriend before you felt the same urge?”
Derek thought about it. “Twice.”
“And, the one before that?”
“Once…” He saw the pattern. “But it’s different with the doc. He’s not a psychotic murderer. He’s a good candidate.”
“But this time, there are rules that stop you. He’s your doctor.”
Derek nodded and eyed the herbal tea in front of him. He was thirsty, but could he trust the therapist? He didn’t want any happy pills.
“It’s supposed to soothe you, Mr. Hale, not frighten you. I don’t use poison or drugs, so I suggest you drink it.”
Miss Morell stared at him until he caved in and picked up the cup. Her patients always learned to follow orders. “So, the clinic’s policy aside, do you think Dr. Stilinski also felt such a strong connection to you? Mating means a lot to werewolves.”
“He wants to sleep with me. That’s all I know.” Derek frowned at the God-awful taste. He didn’t dare to ask what the ingredients were.
Miss Morell observed her patient as she thought about the doctor’s call. It had been easy to tell that he was fond of the troubled werewolf. It wasn’t the first time that he had made a referral, but it was certainly the first that he had sounded so smitten.
“Do you practice laughter therapy? I think I already talked a lot.” Derek took another careful sip. He didn’t think that he’d be allowed to leave until he was finished.
“I’m afraid I don’t. But don’t worry, Mr. Hale. I’m sure I’ll find something that works for you.” Miss Morell gave him a confident smile. She would have another altar boy bow down at her shrine.
Meanwhile, Stiles was in the waiting room, shaking his legs into oblivion. One might think that this was what he was here for, but he was here for something else: his upcoming professional misconduct. He found it unrealistic to think that he had the willpower to resist the Hales. It was only natural to cross the line with one of them, if not with more. It was unavoidable and only the best therapist in town would stand a chance of saving him.
It was as if he had typed in the data for his favorite werewolf and had printed out the top three versions with a 3D printer. He could hardly believe that he was attractive to this breed. Just a few years ago, he had worried that he’d never get anyone to notice him. Things had gradually gotten better since then, but he had never had such beauties like the Hales zeroing in on him.
“Oww…” He massaged his right leg as it started cramping. He looked around to focus on something other than the discomfort. While he had stayed in touch with Miss Morell ever since she had helped him grieve over his mother, he had never met her in her office. Everything still looked the same after all these years. He shook his head and tried to chase away the bad memories. He might be sitting in the same space, but he was stronger now.
His thoughts drifted to his beloved Jeep. It had originally belonged to his mother. When she had asked him to pick the right car for her, he had pointed at a blue Jeep that had looked cute and strong. They had decided to call it Jeepie. He had told her that he wanted to be like Jeepie; to bring smiles to her face and protect her. But he had learned that he couldn’t be as strong as the Jeep. And, now he was forced to admit that his Jeep wasn’t that strong anymore.
Bleep.
Stiles checked his phone. It was a text message from his mechanic. He glanced at the nurse who looked busy on the phone and called the shop. There was nobody else around and whoever was in the office was taking forever.
“Hello? Kyle? Give me the good news, buddy. I need the good news.” Stiles gnawed his thumbnail. He felt like he was going to be sick.
“I’m sorry, Stiles… I’m really sorry, but I think it’s time.”
Shot back through time, Stiles found himself at the hospital. The waiting room was quiet and the doctor was close, but he still couldn’t hear him well. What? What do you mean it’s time? Dad isn’t here yet. It isn’t time. Didn’t you just hear me? No, I don’t want to say goodbye. You can’t make me. But why is this happening today? I thought you said we had more time. Don’t tell me the same thing and go do something! No! How many times do I have to tell you? It’s not time!
Black spots messed with his vision. The doctor was fading away. His chest hurt. His throat hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt.
“Doctor?!”
Someone was shaking him. As if the barking wasn’t bad enough, the shaking was vigorous. He was really going to be sick.
“Stiles!!”
Wait. He knew this voice. He didn’t want to think about it, but it was so loud.
“Kiss him!! Do it now or I will!”
Okay, that voice, he knew. It was Miss Morell. But who was kissing whom? Those lucky bastards. Single life sucked.
Stiles gasped as a hot pair of lips crushed against his. He couldn’t breathe. Was this the kiss of death? He watched Supernatural. Was he kissing none other than Death? Or was this Death’s son? Or his grandson? Or his great-grandson? Or his great-great…
He pushed away the kisser and finally took a breath. His vision was getting cleared up. In three, two, one…
Oh, shit.
“Are you okay?”
Stiles shook his head as firmly as he could. No, he was not okay.
“You’re not okay…?”
Stiles groaned as Derek kissed him again. That wasn’t what he had meant. He could hear Miss Morell’s smug voice, but he tuned her out. He didn’t want to know what she was talking about. He didn’t want to know if she had orchestrated this. And, he definitely didn’t want to know if she had planned something more.