The Nine Lives of Stiles Stilinski Part Nine: "Call This Love or Madness"
Series: The Nine Lives of Stiles Stilinski
Chapter Title: Call This Love or Madness
Part: 9/9
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairings: eventual Derek/Stiles; Allison Argent; Chris Argent; Mystery Guy/Leon; Scott McCall; Jackson Whittemore; Lydia Martin; Sheriff Stilinski.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters depicted in sexual situations in this post/fanfiction/fanart (including material in the comments) are fictional and are intended to be and considered to be by the author of said material of the legal age of consent in the United States, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
Summary: She thought her Dad would never come home.
Warnings: un-betaed. This series takes place after season one. Thank you everyone for sticking with me through this! Don't worry, this isn't the end of this 'verse, there will be more to come after November! The current name in progress for the next arc is “How Scared I Was”, so keep an eye out for it!
Previous
The man-a Hunter-was sitting awkwardly at her dining room table, careful to not touch the table itself. Allison milled around, keeping her eye on him. She thought to offer him food and drink, not wanting to seem unwelcoming in case he took exception to that. She thought her Dad would never come home. When the SUV's engine came rumbling down the street and pulled into the drive, she let out a lungful she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her eyes flicked over to the man who had introduced himself as Leon, as she straightened up from leaning against the counter. She didn't have to say it, but she did anyway. To fill the silence. “That should be him now.”
She moved to the door and pulled it open with a big smile for her Dad. Her eyes were a bit wider than usual and perhaps that was the first thing her father noticed. Or maybe it was Leon hovering behind her shoulder. Either way, he didn't look very amused. He glanced behind him and shut the door as he came through it. He was curt and didn't bother to even look at her as he spoke. “Allison, go to your room.”
She fled, bounding up the stairs and out of sight, but stopped short of her door and glanced back. She closed the door in front of her, then got on her hands and knees and snuck down the hallway to the end of the wall, where the banister gave a clear view of the two men still standing silently right inside the front door. She laid herself down on the coarse carpet and tried to keep her breathing calm and quiet. Her Dad crossed his arms and frowned at Leon, speaking in a low voice. “What are you doing at my residence?”
Overly formal-Leon wasn't someone her Dad wanted here. Leon didn't act aggressively in the least. He just dipped his head and spoke in the same thick accent he'd had with the few words he spoke to her. “I will leave, but I don't want to have to come back.”
Chris' eyebrows knitted and he shifted uncomfortably, like he didn't quite know what the man meant and he had a question on the tip of his tongue. Leon continued, plowing through her Dad's attempt to take back control of the conversation. “I know you hunt these... Werewolves... but WerKatze are different. You need to know the signs of one going feral. Then I'll feel safe leaving it in your care.”
Were-cats? It? Allison thought back to how Scott had said Stiles had died. Maybe he wasn't being melodramatic. Maybe, if cats had nine lives then were-cats had nine lives too. Maybe he'd been telling her exactly what had happened. Allison stayed put, listening to the rest of the conversation. It was mostly about him returning during the day with reference material and her Dad arranging so the other hunters would be in the house. How Leon was going to teach them. She couldn't help thinking that it was just her and Lydia who were human now. How Stiles was in over his head. Her Dad was going to learn how to kill him, just like he knew how to kill Scott, Jackson and Derek.
{break}
Stiles wakes up in his bed alone. That's okay, though, he thinks. He didn't really want to wake up with Derek there. It was weird enough that he had slept next to him last night. Sure, they had-they had kissed-but it wasn't like they were best buds or anything. He picked himself up from his sprawled position on his bed and kicks the blanket off of him. He wasn't sure when he had pulled it over him, nor when he'd really fallen asleep. It was three in the morning. He checked his email, fixed himself a breakfast of grape jelly on an english muffin and gobbled it down. He finished getting ready and then lounged at his computer, starting up World of Warcraft to do some dailies he'd been neglecting. He actually missed playing the game with Scott, or any game really. It had all been stalled when Scott was bitten. He's have to talk Scott into playing again. The rest of the morning was filled with gaming in his waking hours and a cat nap before his Dad was out the door and reminding him that he needed to go to school today.
School wasn't so bad, except he had to park really far away. He attended his morning classes and slapped Scott on the back when he saw him. Nothing was weird until they all met up at lunch. Allison was quick to join them and just as quick to turn and talk to him, which was out of the ordinary anyway. Most of the 'conversations' they had went through Scott. Which he was totally fine with, by the way.
“My Dad know about you.” She cast a furtive look at Scott, leaning closer to him as she spoke in a low hiss, “I think all of them know, actually. So you need to be careful.”
His stomach turned, his eyes darted around to check all their faces. He slouched in his seat, acted like he was going to take a drink of water but stopped the bottle an inch from his face and mumbled. “You mean they're gonna start hunting me too?”
Allison pressed her lips together harshly and her forehead creased with concern. “Just be careful. Don't hurt anyone and they'll leave you alone.”
He sat up a bit and leaned over the table. The others were eating at a steady pace, not really paying attention to the food going into their mouths in lieu of the conversation happening between the two. “You think I'd hurt someone?”
She shook her head, dark brown curls bouncing over her shoulders, “Of course not, Stiles.”
He slumped back and took a drink, trying not to glare daggers at her-it was a friendly, preemptive warning, that was all. She said one last thing before shutting up for the rest of the meal. “I think he's leaving town, too.”
“Who? Your dad?” That was Scott chiming in.
“No, Leon. The guy who... the guy who killed Stiles.”
He couldn't say he felt anything other than joy at that, but he had to wonder why. Not that he planned on walking up to him and asking. No siree-he was going to stay as far away from that guy as possible. Dying wasn't the best feeling on the planet and he wasn't feeling the urge to repeat it too soon. The next few days were quiet, though he was continually checking over his shoulder. He hoped it didn't make him look like a paranoid schizophrenic, but he guessed that it probably did. Derek tended to pop in during the evening when his Dad was asleep and Stiles was busy either playing some sort of video game or reading. They would usually sit shoulder to shoulder and have some quiet conversation that didn't include any threats, like they used to. It was a nice change of pace.
Friday of the same week and he was still looking over his shoulder and jumping at loud noises. Who could blame him, really? Jackson thumped him on the shoulder in the locker room as they changed for practice and shook his head, chuckling softly after he'd physically startled at a loud crash of a bench falling on it's side.
“What?” He practically snapped at the wolf. Jackson just shook his head and laughed a little louder. Scott shoved him with a scowl, but Jackson's arm was still tossed over his shoulder. Stiles slammed his locker closed and pulled his second glove on, scowling in Jackson's direction too. He shrugged his arm off and basically bared his teeth when he spoke.
“That's not winning you any points, you know.” He wasn't quite sure why he'd called out the whole situation that he at least still felt he was in. You know, the thing about having two wolves vying for his attention. He had been content before to just leave it be and hope that they'd both eventually leave him alone, but him and his stupid mouth... Jackson sobered and gave him a quizzical look. Scott was already wandering out with the rest of the team, but Jackson grabbed Stiles' arm and turned him back to face him when he tried to follow.
He started slowly, “You... do realize that I'm not-” He looked around for anyone listening and pulled Stiles closer. “I can't-not with you. Wouldn't have the chance even if I wanted to.”
Stiles wasn't sure he was understanding Jackson in the least, all he wanted to do was get out of there and forget the conversation ever happened. His masochistic curiosity won out though. “What do you mean?”
Jackson took a breath and refused to meet his eyes.
“What, Jackson? Come on, tell me.” More of a demand than pleading. He really should remember that these wolves could easily turn on him and eat his face off. He gulped back the instinctive apology that was beginning to raise to his lips. Jackson still wouldn't meet his eyes as he spoke.
“No one else can have you, alright? You're the alpha's. You're Derek's.”
{break}
They clasped hands in a strong grip and shook. “If there's any problems...”
Chris finished his sentence, “I'll call you.”
He nodded sharply and threw the last of his bags in the back seat of the car. He couldn't wait to see his daughter again, to tuck her in at night and kiss her forehead. To brush her blonde curls and not worry about this cat. He couldn't hurt her, after all, and there were some good hunters here. He trusted them. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. He was headed to the airport, to finally be done with this hunt. He knew that there would be others, but they were few and far between these days. He would have a reprieve. He glanced in his rear view mirror at the man who stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.
They were a lot alike, Chris Argent and he. He liked the man and trusted that he would do everything in his power to keep his own daughter safe here in Beacon Hills.
{break}
Stiles had made leaps and bounds from playing last year (not to mention the year before that), or that's what Coach Finstock had said. He'd been made first string much to a lot of the player's reluctance. His Dad was overjoyed to hear the news and had gone out of his way to make it to the first game of the season. It was a home game, the bleachers on both sides of the field were packed with loudly talking people. The game had yet to start, but they were on the field, doing their warm ups. Really it was more of lackadaisically tossing a ball back and forth, sometimes throwing one towards Danny. Stiles was trying not to be too excited-after all, he had to work hard to keep up with Scott and Jackson when he'd rather just curl up in the sun-warmed grass and nap.
He was still struggling to keep up with the two half-way through the game. They were easily winning (you can't beat a team that has two werewolves and one were-cat with an all human team, after all), but he just couldn't seem to snap out of it. The pull of sleep was getting to him as he sat down heavily and took a big drink from his water bottle. Jackson elbowed him, nodding toward the bleachers. Stiles sighed and closed the water bottle with his teeth. “I know my Dad's there, Jackson. He's been there since the beginning.”
Jackson was taking a drink at the time and just shook his head, pointing rather obviously this time. Stiles decided he might as well look. Standing a bit off to the side, but close to the edge of the field with his hands balled up in his pockets was one Derek Hale. When Stiles met his eyes he smiled-like really, honestly, genuinely smiled-and it scared the crap out of Stiles. He was sitting ramrod straight with his heart hammering in his chest. Were those butterflies in his stomach?
The whistle blew and they were back on the field. Stiles was having no trouble keeping up with Scott and Jackson now, the adrenaline from earlier coursing through him and keeping him very much awake for the rest of the game. They won, 8-3, and celebrated loudly as they went back to the locker rooms. Stiles had actually made two of those goals-which was impressive (to himself).
Many thumps on the back later and his Dad was bear-hugging him. He called him Champ and grinned like it was going out of style. He was leaving to go back to work, get some paperwork together before heading home and would Stiles be alright to catch a ride with someone home? Stiles nodded and hurried off to grab his stuff.
Derek found him as he was walking out of the locker room for the second time, skin still damp from showering and his clothes sticking a bit to him. He had been intending to catch a ride with Allison or Jackson if he was really unlucky, but Derek just caught him around his shoulders and led him out to the Camaro at a relaxed speed. After they had left the throng of people waiting for those still in the locker room, Derek spoke, kicking a pebble along as they walked.
“You did great out there.” He glanced at Stiles and pulled him close to his side. Stiles couldn't put it out of his head how he and Derek were somehow-somehow together even though they really weren't. It was difficult to not get agitated even when having a normal, inane conversation. He shrugged, lopsided because of the weight of his gear bag. Derek said nothing else until they got in the car.
“You're eating with your Dad, right?” The question was asked as he was pulling out of the parking space, Stiles' gear sweaty in the backseat and the evening sunlight glinting yellow through the windshield. He nodded and squinted against the sun, settling into the warm leather seat and letting the scent of car and Derek wash over him. He was content. No more heart pounding, no more adrenaline. No more freaking out. It was comfortable. Derek had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Would he kill you if we stopped for ice cream first?”
Stiles looked over and smiled. “Probably not.”
As they wound through the streets, Stiles watched the houses and shops go by the window. Overall he couldn't say he was disappointed in the arrangement they had. It was like having Scott back full-time. They played games, wrestled, and talked. But there was the added bonus of an awesome car (still not as awesome as his baby, but still pretty awesome), abs that he couldn't help but reach for every time they came into view, and no more vicious threats. Derek interrupted his thoughts, turning down the music and speaking without looking over at Stiles at all.
“So I've been following that hunter that shot you.” He didn't like to talk about Stiles being dead, so he always said 'shot' instead of 'killed'. Stiles didn't like where it was going, though. He scowled and slouched lower in his seat.
“Why would you do that? He could hurt you.” He spoke to the windshield.
This time Derek glanced at him, his eyebrows knitting together. “Avoiding the problem isn't really a solution, Stiles.”
“Yes it is.” He mumbled it under his breath, but Derek didn't seem to hear him. If he did, he ignored it.
“Anyway, he left town earlier.”
Stiles sat up straight and looked at him. “What?”
Derek took a turn a little sharply, eased on the brake and licked his lips before speaking. “He left. Said he was going back home. He and Argent shook hands before he left.”
“Allison's Dad? She said they'd buddied up.” He looked resolutely through the window, not wanting to count his chicks before they hatched. If he got excited because of this, it meant that the next bad thing coming his way would hit harder and it would hit sooner. So he chose to not let his hopes up. Derek pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.
“Well, he's gone now. I swept the town just to be sure.” He got out and waited for Stiles before they stepped into line together. Stiles didn't say anything until he ordered. After that he let Derek pay because his wallet was in the back seat of the Camaro and his cotton candy ice cream was dripping down the side of his waffle cone, keeping him busy. They leaned against a railing as they ate. Derek finished first and ushered him back to the car. Stiles felt like his fingers were going to be permanently sticky after this and kept licking at them as Derek drove. When Derek reached over to switch the gear Stiles' left (and non-sticky) hand found his. A small smile played at the corners of Derek's mouth, letting their fingers twine together, resting between them as Stiles went back to looking out the window.
Chapter Title: Call This Love or Madness
Part: 9/9
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Characters/Pairings: eventual Derek/Stiles; Allison Argent; Chris Argent; Mystery Guy/Leon; Scott McCall; Jackson Whittemore; Lydia Martin; Sheriff Stilinski.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: All characters depicted in sexual situations in this post/fanfiction/fanart (including material in the comments) are fictional and are intended to be and considered to be by the author of said material of the legal age of consent in the United States, regardless of what age these characters may be in the material they are derived from.
Summary: She thought her Dad would never come home.
Warnings: un-betaed. This series takes place after season one. Thank you everyone for sticking with me through this! Don't worry, this isn't the end of this 'verse, there will be more to come after November! The current name in progress for the next arc is “How Scared I Was”, so keep an eye out for it!
Previous
The man-a Hunter-was sitting awkwardly at her dining room table, careful to not touch the table itself. Allison milled around, keeping her eye on him. She thought to offer him food and drink, not wanting to seem unwelcoming in case he took exception to that. She thought her Dad would never come home. When the SUV's engine came rumbling down the street and pulled into the drive, she let out a lungful she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her eyes flicked over to the man who had introduced himself as Leon, as she straightened up from leaning against the counter. She didn't have to say it, but she did anyway. To fill the silence. “That should be him now.”
She moved to the door and pulled it open with a big smile for her Dad. Her eyes were a bit wider than usual and perhaps that was the first thing her father noticed. Or maybe it was Leon hovering behind her shoulder. Either way, he didn't look very amused. He glanced behind him and shut the door as he came through it. He was curt and didn't bother to even look at her as he spoke. “Allison, go to your room.”
She fled, bounding up the stairs and out of sight, but stopped short of her door and glanced back. She closed the door in front of her, then got on her hands and knees and snuck down the hallway to the end of the wall, where the banister gave a clear view of the two men still standing silently right inside the front door. She laid herself down on the coarse carpet and tried to keep her breathing calm and quiet. Her Dad crossed his arms and frowned at Leon, speaking in a low voice. “What are you doing at my residence?”
Overly formal-Leon wasn't someone her Dad wanted here. Leon didn't act aggressively in the least. He just dipped his head and spoke in the same thick accent he'd had with the few words he spoke to her. “I will leave, but I don't want to have to come back.”
Chris' eyebrows knitted and he shifted uncomfortably, like he didn't quite know what the man meant and he had a question on the tip of his tongue. Leon continued, plowing through her Dad's attempt to take back control of the conversation. “I know you hunt these... Werewolves... but WerKatze are different. You need to know the signs of one going feral. Then I'll feel safe leaving it in your care.”
Were-cats? It? Allison thought back to how Scott had said Stiles had died. Maybe he wasn't being melodramatic. Maybe, if cats had nine lives then were-cats had nine lives too. Maybe he'd been telling her exactly what had happened. Allison stayed put, listening to the rest of the conversation. It was mostly about him returning during the day with reference material and her Dad arranging so the other hunters would be in the house. How Leon was going to teach them. She couldn't help thinking that it was just her and Lydia who were human now. How Stiles was in over his head. Her Dad was going to learn how to kill him, just like he knew how to kill Scott, Jackson and Derek.
{break}
Stiles wakes up in his bed alone. That's okay, though, he thinks. He didn't really want to wake up with Derek there. It was weird enough that he had slept next to him last night. Sure, they had-they had kissed-but it wasn't like they were best buds or anything. He picked himself up from his sprawled position on his bed and kicks the blanket off of him. He wasn't sure when he had pulled it over him, nor when he'd really fallen asleep. It was three in the morning. He checked his email, fixed himself a breakfast of grape jelly on an english muffin and gobbled it down. He finished getting ready and then lounged at his computer, starting up World of Warcraft to do some dailies he'd been neglecting. He actually missed playing the game with Scott, or any game really. It had all been stalled when Scott was bitten. He's have to talk Scott into playing again. The rest of the morning was filled with gaming in his waking hours and a cat nap before his Dad was out the door and reminding him that he needed to go to school today.
School wasn't so bad, except he had to park really far away. He attended his morning classes and slapped Scott on the back when he saw him. Nothing was weird until they all met up at lunch. Allison was quick to join them and just as quick to turn and talk to him, which was out of the ordinary anyway. Most of the 'conversations' they had went through Scott. Which he was totally fine with, by the way.
“My Dad know about you.” She cast a furtive look at Scott, leaning closer to him as she spoke in a low hiss, “I think all of them know, actually. So you need to be careful.”
His stomach turned, his eyes darted around to check all their faces. He slouched in his seat, acted like he was going to take a drink of water but stopped the bottle an inch from his face and mumbled. “You mean they're gonna start hunting me too?”
Allison pressed her lips together harshly and her forehead creased with concern. “Just be careful. Don't hurt anyone and they'll leave you alone.”
He sat up a bit and leaned over the table. The others were eating at a steady pace, not really paying attention to the food going into their mouths in lieu of the conversation happening between the two. “You think I'd hurt someone?”
She shook her head, dark brown curls bouncing over her shoulders, “Of course not, Stiles.”
He slumped back and took a drink, trying not to glare daggers at her-it was a friendly, preemptive warning, that was all. She said one last thing before shutting up for the rest of the meal. “I think he's leaving town, too.”
“Who? Your dad?” That was Scott chiming in.
“No, Leon. The guy who... the guy who killed Stiles.”
He couldn't say he felt anything other than joy at that, but he had to wonder why. Not that he planned on walking up to him and asking. No siree-he was going to stay as far away from that guy as possible. Dying wasn't the best feeling on the planet and he wasn't feeling the urge to repeat it too soon. The next few days were quiet, though he was continually checking over his shoulder. He hoped it didn't make him look like a paranoid schizophrenic, but he guessed that it probably did. Derek tended to pop in during the evening when his Dad was asleep and Stiles was busy either playing some sort of video game or reading. They would usually sit shoulder to shoulder and have some quiet conversation that didn't include any threats, like they used to. It was a nice change of pace.
Friday of the same week and he was still looking over his shoulder and jumping at loud noises. Who could blame him, really? Jackson thumped him on the shoulder in the locker room as they changed for practice and shook his head, chuckling softly after he'd physically startled at a loud crash of a bench falling on it's side.
“What?” He practically snapped at the wolf. Jackson just shook his head and laughed a little louder. Scott shoved him with a scowl, but Jackson's arm was still tossed over his shoulder. Stiles slammed his locker closed and pulled his second glove on, scowling in Jackson's direction too. He shrugged his arm off and basically bared his teeth when he spoke.
“That's not winning you any points, you know.” He wasn't quite sure why he'd called out the whole situation that he at least still felt he was in. You know, the thing about having two wolves vying for his attention. He had been content before to just leave it be and hope that they'd both eventually leave him alone, but him and his stupid mouth... Jackson sobered and gave him a quizzical look. Scott was already wandering out with the rest of the team, but Jackson grabbed Stiles' arm and turned him back to face him when he tried to follow.
He started slowly, “You... do realize that I'm not-” He looked around for anyone listening and pulled Stiles closer. “I can't-not with you. Wouldn't have the chance even if I wanted to.”
Stiles wasn't sure he was understanding Jackson in the least, all he wanted to do was get out of there and forget the conversation ever happened. His masochistic curiosity won out though. “What do you mean?”
Jackson took a breath and refused to meet his eyes.
“What, Jackson? Come on, tell me.” More of a demand than pleading. He really should remember that these wolves could easily turn on him and eat his face off. He gulped back the instinctive apology that was beginning to raise to his lips. Jackson still wouldn't meet his eyes as he spoke.
“No one else can have you, alright? You're the alpha's. You're Derek's.”
{break}
They clasped hands in a strong grip and shook. “If there's any problems...”
Chris finished his sentence, “I'll call you.”
He nodded sharply and threw the last of his bags in the back seat of the car. He couldn't wait to see his daughter again, to tuck her in at night and kiss her forehead. To brush her blonde curls and not worry about this cat. He couldn't hurt her, after all, and there were some good hunters here. He trusted them. He climbed into the driver's seat and started the car. He was headed to the airport, to finally be done with this hunt. He knew that there would be others, but they were few and far between these days. He would have a reprieve. He glanced in his rear view mirror at the man who stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.
They were a lot alike, Chris Argent and he. He liked the man and trusted that he would do everything in his power to keep his own daughter safe here in Beacon Hills.
{break}
Stiles had made leaps and bounds from playing last year (not to mention the year before that), or that's what Coach Finstock had said. He'd been made first string much to a lot of the player's reluctance. His Dad was overjoyed to hear the news and had gone out of his way to make it to the first game of the season. It was a home game, the bleachers on both sides of the field were packed with loudly talking people. The game had yet to start, but they were on the field, doing their warm ups. Really it was more of lackadaisically tossing a ball back and forth, sometimes throwing one towards Danny. Stiles was trying not to be too excited-after all, he had to work hard to keep up with Scott and Jackson when he'd rather just curl up in the sun-warmed grass and nap.
He was still struggling to keep up with the two half-way through the game. They were easily winning (you can't beat a team that has two werewolves and one were-cat with an all human team, after all), but he just couldn't seem to snap out of it. The pull of sleep was getting to him as he sat down heavily and took a big drink from his water bottle. Jackson elbowed him, nodding toward the bleachers. Stiles sighed and closed the water bottle with his teeth. “I know my Dad's there, Jackson. He's been there since the beginning.”
Jackson was taking a drink at the time and just shook his head, pointing rather obviously this time. Stiles decided he might as well look. Standing a bit off to the side, but close to the edge of the field with his hands balled up in his pockets was one Derek Hale. When Stiles met his eyes he smiled-like really, honestly, genuinely smiled-and it scared the crap out of Stiles. He was sitting ramrod straight with his heart hammering in his chest. Were those butterflies in his stomach?
The whistle blew and they were back on the field. Stiles was having no trouble keeping up with Scott and Jackson now, the adrenaline from earlier coursing through him and keeping him very much awake for the rest of the game. They won, 8-3, and celebrated loudly as they went back to the locker rooms. Stiles had actually made two of those goals-which was impressive (to himself).
Many thumps on the back later and his Dad was bear-hugging him. He called him Champ and grinned like it was going out of style. He was leaving to go back to work, get some paperwork together before heading home and would Stiles be alright to catch a ride with someone home? Stiles nodded and hurried off to grab his stuff.
Derek found him as he was walking out of the locker room for the second time, skin still damp from showering and his clothes sticking a bit to him. He had been intending to catch a ride with Allison or Jackson if he was really unlucky, but Derek just caught him around his shoulders and led him out to the Camaro at a relaxed speed. After they had left the throng of people waiting for those still in the locker room, Derek spoke, kicking a pebble along as they walked.
“You did great out there.” He glanced at Stiles and pulled him close to his side. Stiles couldn't put it out of his head how he and Derek were somehow-somehow together even though they really weren't. It was difficult to not get agitated even when having a normal, inane conversation. He shrugged, lopsided because of the weight of his gear bag. Derek said nothing else until they got in the car.
“You're eating with your Dad, right?” The question was asked as he was pulling out of the parking space, Stiles' gear sweaty in the backseat and the evening sunlight glinting yellow through the windshield. He nodded and squinted against the sun, settling into the warm leather seat and letting the scent of car and Derek wash over him. He was content. No more heart pounding, no more adrenaline. No more freaking out. It was comfortable. Derek had a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Would he kill you if we stopped for ice cream first?”
Stiles looked over and smiled. “Probably not.”
As they wound through the streets, Stiles watched the houses and shops go by the window. Overall he couldn't say he was disappointed in the arrangement they had. It was like having Scott back full-time. They played games, wrestled, and talked. But there was the added bonus of an awesome car (still not as awesome as his baby, but still pretty awesome), abs that he couldn't help but reach for every time they came into view, and no more vicious threats. Derek interrupted his thoughts, turning down the music and speaking without looking over at Stiles at all.
“So I've been following that hunter that shot you.” He didn't like to talk about Stiles being dead, so he always said 'shot' instead of 'killed'. Stiles didn't like where it was going, though. He scowled and slouched lower in his seat.
“Why would you do that? He could hurt you.” He spoke to the windshield.
This time Derek glanced at him, his eyebrows knitting together. “Avoiding the problem isn't really a solution, Stiles.”
“Yes it is.” He mumbled it under his breath, but Derek didn't seem to hear him. If he did, he ignored it.
“Anyway, he left town earlier.”
Stiles sat up straight and looked at him. “What?”
Derek took a turn a little sharply, eased on the brake and licked his lips before speaking. “He left. Said he was going back home. He and Argent shook hands before he left.”
“Allison's Dad? She said they'd buddied up.” He looked resolutely through the window, not wanting to count his chicks before they hatched. If he got excited because of this, it meant that the next bad thing coming his way would hit harder and it would hit sooner. So he chose to not let his hopes up. Derek pulled into the parking lot and parked the car.
“Well, he's gone now. I swept the town just to be sure.” He got out and waited for Stiles before they stepped into line together. Stiles didn't say anything until he ordered. After that he let Derek pay because his wallet was in the back seat of the Camaro and his cotton candy ice cream was dripping down the side of his waffle cone, keeping him busy. They leaned against a railing as they ate. Derek finished first and ushered him back to the car. Stiles felt like his fingers were going to be permanently sticky after this and kept licking at them as Derek drove. When Derek reached over to switch the gear Stiles' left (and non-sticky) hand found his. A small smile played at the corners of Derek's mouth, letting their fingers twine together, resting between them as Stiles went back to looking out the window.