Ficlet: From the Past
Author: froggydarren
Title: From the Past
Rating: G
Pairing/s: n/a
Character/s: Laura Hale, Alan Deaton, Stiles Stilinski (mentioned)
Summary: The last thing Laura expected was walking into the staff room and being met with a face from the past that she thought she left far behind. It
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: Part of my HPish verse/fic, though it can be read alone. Laura POV.
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 765
Prompt: #123: condition
Author's Notes: Thanks to simplyn2deep, Laura's voice nagged me to write this little thing in my HP fic. It takes place before Dust In The Stacks.
The last thing Laura expected was walking into the staff room and being met with a face from the past that she thought she left far behind. It sent a jolt through her as memories flooded back into her mind at the sight of Alan Deaton, who was sitting at the main table, flipping through sheets of parchment and tapping a finger against an unassuming mug. Before she could make a decision on whether to face him or slip back out of the door, he looked up and met her eyes.
For a moment, they both just stared, and Laura was searching his face for a clue to his thoughts, her heart beating loud enough to overwhelm all other sounds around them. Deaton's face was blank though, a sight which was all too familiar to what Laura remembered from her childhood.
"Miss Hale," he said finally, quietly enough so that if there were other people in the room, they probably wouldn't hear it.
Laura did, and she nodded a little automatically, acknowledging the name and Deaton recognizing her. He'd always been a man of very few words, and those that he did have were a mystery to almost everyone around him.
"I didn't think I'd find you here," Deaton said then, his eyes still focused on her face like he was searching for something. "Last I heard, you were in New York."
Finally -- partly because of the easy conversational tone in Deaton's voice and partly because she didn't know what else to do -- Laura took a few steps until she reached his table, and she slipped into one of the chairs opposite him.
"That was some time ago," Laura spoke quietly. "We didn't know where else to go, after…"
Deaton nodded in acknowledgment and understanding of the words she didn't -- couldn't -- say, even though years had passed.
"It's a pleasant surprise," Deaton said then, a soft smile playing on his lips, fondness in his face that Laura was curious about but not brave enough to address.
That was all it took to start a conversation between them, one they were still lost in when other professors and staff started filling the room for their break.
***
It didn’t take long for them to strike up what Laura tentatively called 'friendship'. She still felt a little uncomfortable calling him Alan, the way the name rolled off her tongue bringing back too many memories of the past, but he had a connection that she wasn't willing to sacrifice for comfort. Deaton wasn't in Salem by accident -- she didn't hang on to that idea for more than their first two conversations -- and she knew he was possibly the only one who could help.
Of course, she also realized very quickly that he took notice of the same person she did a long time ago. When Deaton brought up Stiles and his frequent trips into the woods around the school, Laura didn't spill the beans immediately, didn't give away her suspicions on what importance Stiles could have. She did, however, eventually bring up Stiles' eagerness to learn.
"Maybe I could point him in the right direction," she said one day, her mind on the secrets of the forest, on what she knew it was hiding.
"On one condition," Deaton said after he nodded.
Laura raised an eyebrow, because she expected a cryptic answer or a deflection.
"Don't tell him," Deaton told her, the words crystal clear to her, though vague enough that no one else would understand. "Let him figure it out by himself."
"Okay," Laura said. "Are you going to tell me why?"
"If Stiles can do what we both think he can," Deaton said with a raised eyebrow, like he was challenging her to try and ask him for clarification, "then he will not need it spelled out."
Laura nodded, and hoped that whatever Deaton's plan was, it would have the results she was hoping for. She let herself think of what was lurking in the woods, of the blue eyes that haunted her dreams, and of the kid who might just be the key to bringing back what she lost. When Deaton looked towards the front door of the school, she turned that way just in time to see Stiles sneaking out again, and her heart sped up.
"He's got the spark to make it happen," Deaton said when Stiles disappeared into the forest.
"I hope so, Alan, I really do," Laura whispered, and her mind was already cataloguing books that she'd need to push Stiles in the right direction.
Title: From the Past
Rating: G
Pairing/s: n/a
Character/s: Laura Hale, Alan Deaton, Stiles Stilinski (mentioned)
Summary: The last thing Laura expected was walking into the staff room and being met with a face from the past that she thought she left far behind. It
Warnings: n/a
Content Notes: Part of my HPish verse/fic, though it can be read alone. Laura POV.
Submission Type: Ficlet
Word Count: 765
Prompt: #123: condition
Author's Notes: Thanks to simplyn2deep, Laura's voice nagged me to write this little thing in my HP fic. It takes place before Dust In The Stacks.
The last thing Laura expected was walking into the staff room and being met with a face from the past that she thought she left far behind. It sent a jolt through her as memories flooded back into her mind at the sight of Alan Deaton, who was sitting at the main table, flipping through sheets of parchment and tapping a finger against an unassuming mug. Before she could make a decision on whether to face him or slip back out of the door, he looked up and met her eyes.
For a moment, they both just stared, and Laura was searching his face for a clue to his thoughts, her heart beating loud enough to overwhelm all other sounds around them. Deaton's face was blank though, a sight which was all too familiar to what Laura remembered from her childhood.
"Miss Hale," he said finally, quietly enough so that if there were other people in the room, they probably wouldn't hear it.
Laura did, and she nodded a little automatically, acknowledging the name and Deaton recognizing her. He'd always been a man of very few words, and those that he did have were a mystery to almost everyone around him.
"I didn't think I'd find you here," Deaton said then, his eyes still focused on her face like he was searching for something. "Last I heard, you were in New York."
Finally -- partly because of the easy conversational tone in Deaton's voice and partly because she didn't know what else to do -- Laura took a few steps until she reached his table, and she slipped into one of the chairs opposite him.
"That was some time ago," Laura spoke quietly. "We didn't know where else to go, after…"
Deaton nodded in acknowledgment and understanding of the words she didn't -- couldn't -- say, even though years had passed.
"It's a pleasant surprise," Deaton said then, a soft smile playing on his lips, fondness in his face that Laura was curious about but not brave enough to address.
That was all it took to start a conversation between them, one they were still lost in when other professors and staff started filling the room for their break.
***
It didn’t take long for them to strike up what Laura tentatively called 'friendship'. She still felt a little uncomfortable calling him Alan, the way the name rolled off her tongue bringing back too many memories of the past, but he had a connection that she wasn't willing to sacrifice for comfort. Deaton wasn't in Salem by accident -- she didn't hang on to that idea for more than their first two conversations -- and she knew he was possibly the only one who could help.
Of course, she also realized very quickly that he took notice of the same person she did a long time ago. When Deaton brought up Stiles and his frequent trips into the woods around the school, Laura didn't spill the beans immediately, didn't give away her suspicions on what importance Stiles could have. She did, however, eventually bring up Stiles' eagerness to learn.
"Maybe I could point him in the right direction," she said one day, her mind on the secrets of the forest, on what she knew it was hiding.
"On one condition," Deaton said after he nodded.
Laura raised an eyebrow, because she expected a cryptic answer or a deflection.
"Don't tell him," Deaton told her, the words crystal clear to her, though vague enough that no one else would understand. "Let him figure it out by himself."
"Okay," Laura said. "Are you going to tell me why?"
"If Stiles can do what we both think he can," Deaton said with a raised eyebrow, like he was challenging her to try and ask him for clarification, "then he will not need it spelled out."
Laura nodded, and hoped that whatever Deaton's plan was, it would have the results she was hoping for. She let herself think of what was lurking in the woods, of the blue eyes that haunted her dreams, and of the kid who might just be the key to bringing back what she lost. When Deaton looked towards the front door of the school, she turned that way just in time to see Stiles sneaking out again, and her heart sped up.
"He's got the spark to make it happen," Deaton said when Stiles disappeared into the forest.
"I hope so, Alan, I really do," Laura whispered, and her mind was already cataloguing books that she'd need to push Stiles in the right direction.