New Teen Wolf Fic: Except What Has Been Forgotten, Rated R, 7/?
Except What Has Been Forgotten, Part 7
by Suz
Endless thanks to rhiannonhero :) Feedback would be wonderful :) As usual, completely making it up with the education stuff ;D
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.
*
When Stiles woke the next morning, it was to the realisation that his brain had given him some more memories as he slept. At least, he thought they were memories. They'd come back to him like a dream, and in the way that his dreams always were, he only remembered bits and pieces and it seemed the harder he concentrated on them, the further they slipped away from him.
So, that was a fun start to the day.
After proving to Dad that yes, he definitely still wanted to go to school and yes, he was feeling physically healthy enough - Dad actually gave him the drunk test, made him recite the alphabet backwards, touch his nose and everything - they climbed into Dad's cruiser and took the thankfully still familiar route to school. Dad had made it extremely clear that Stiles wasn't about to drive anywhere when technically still suffering from a concussion and though it was vaguely irritating, Stiles couldn't disagree with him. Plus, doctor's orders.
Before he'd gone to bed the previous night, he'd done a lot of thinking and decided not to let one weird memory worry him so much when he had no context for it, just get on and do what he needed to do. He'd also seriously considered sending Scott an OMGWHYDIDN'TYOUTELLME??? message, but decided that kind of thing was better done in person where he could actually whack him around the head. He had, however, almost immediately taken Derek's offer to contact him if he had any questions to heart - although it hadn't been about werewolves, per se. It was only now, as he sat in Dad's car, that he received a reply.
To: Derek
if i'm supposed to stay away from peter why do i have messages from him on my phone?
From: Derek
We've had to work with him before. He thinks he's being funny. I made it clear to him last night that he isn't.
Stiles couldn't help but wonder if 'made it clear' meant 'punched him in the face'. Also, it wasn't a surprise that Peter had one seriously screwed-up sense of humour.
He sent a response.
To: Derek
thnx
His phone buzzed again barely a minute later.
From: Derek
Are there a lot of a messages? What do they say?
That made a smile tug at his mouth.
To: Derek
nothing creepy, mr none of your business. and not many.
Derek didn't respond to the joke at all, but just as they pulled into a space in the school parking lot, another message arrived.
From: Derek
Let me know if that changes.
Stiles could openly admit it to himself - it was nice knowing that someone besides his dad and Scott actively cared about him. He'd definitely gotten that impression from the others last night, too, but Derek seemed even a step beyond that. And it certainly didn't hurt that Derek looked the way he did while he did said caring.
Realising Dad was eyeing his phone curiously, Stiles smiled too much and quickly shoved it into a pocket.
"Let's get going, kid," Dad encouraged, and stepped out of the car.
Their first stop was at reception for Dad to sign in - he took school safety very seriously, and refused to be waved in just on the weight of his badge - and then they headed for the Principal's office. The journey was a little weird because most of the students they passed obviously recognised him and just as obviously knew what'd happened to him. The attention was off-putting, but what was even stranger were the amount of people who said they were glad to see him, gave him a bro handshake or fist bump - or rather, tried to. The first attempt had taken Stiles so much by surprise that he'd just stood there blankly, basically having his hand fondled until Dad elbowed him in the ribs. There were even a few girls who flirted with him, blatantly flirted with him right in front of Dad, like that was a normal thing to be doing in front of the guy who was a) sheriff and b) his Dad.
Stiles gave them a wide berth.
"So, really," he said quickly as they approached the door that was generally familiar to everyone for all the wrong reasons, "how long have I been this popular?"
"A few months," Dad told him, pausing to rap on the door, "basically since you made Co-Captain."
Yeah. That made a tragic amount of sense. And also explained why, for all his apparent popularity, Stiles had only maintained the friends he'd had already. People who suddenly liked him just for his lacrosse skills weren't friends at all. If he could recognise that now, he was sure as hell Previous Stiles had recognised it, too.
They had to wait for a little while, but after about fifteen minutes they were being shown in to see the Principal.
Who had changed. Into a woman.
There'd been no sex-change operation that Stiles was aware of, but it definitely wasn't the guy he'd been expecting to see. Why had no one told him this last night?
She seemed nice enough, however, although way too enthusiastic even for Stiles' tastes. She was constantly bringing up the fact that he was Co-Captain of the lacrosse team, that they'd do everything possible to help him 'get through this challenging time', that if it came down to it he didn't need to worry too much about his school work; he just needed to study enough specific areas to take a few tests and he could technically walk with the rest of his class at Graduation, finishing up anything he might need to at Summer School.
"I doubt that'll be necessary," Dad said proudly, "Stiles has started remembering a few things already."
Principal Brooks went on about how wonderful that was, that she was hoping for a fast recovery, and then passed over an A4 envelope that contained notes she'd asked his subject teachers to provide. That way he could see what they'd been working on lately, so he wouldn't be completely out of the loop when he went into class.
Principal Brooks was actually kind of awesome.
As they left her office, she urged both of them to contact her about anything they might need even as she handed Stiles a tardy note to take to class, just to make sure he didn't end up getting into trouble for being late.
"She's kind of awesome," Stiles told his Dad, when it was just the two of them in the corridor.
"That she is," Dad nodded. "So, what class should you be in now?"
"I have no idea," Stiles shrugged, pulling the notes free from the envelope, pleased when he saw that his class schedule was sitting on top. His eyes flicked across the information, taking it in. Glanced at the clock hanging outside the Principal's office. "I have...20 minutes of History left." He liked History, but was kind of weirded out at the idea of walking into the room part-way through the lesson and being immediately known as The Amnesia Kid.
"You better get going, then," Dad said encouragingly, placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder. He paused once it was there, though, face growing serious until Stiles met his gaze. "You good?"
Standing up straight, determined to do this, Stiles nodded. "I'm good."
Patting his shoulder proudly, Dad then pulled him into a hug. Stiles returned it gladly. "I'll be at work," Dad said quietly, "but don't hesitate if you need-"
"I won't," Stiles promised, pulling back to end the hug. "Seriously. If it gets too much I have my phone, and if the headache gets worse I have pain pills and the nurses' office is just one fainting incident away."
Rolling his eyes, Dad shoved his shoulder playfully - if gently. "Get out of here," he said gruffly.
Stiles did, with a smile, but when he reached the end of the corridor and went to turn the corner, he glanced back. Dad was still watching him go.
It did end up being weird. People did end up staring at him, making him want to sink down into his seat and disappear into a convenient yet very tiny black hole. But eventually they - and he - got over it.
*
Stiles apparently didn't have any classes with Scott - or at least he hadn't seen him in class - so recess was the first time he got to speak to him.
And confront him.
"I can't believe you didn't-"
"I know, I know." Scott forestalled any further complaining by holding out his hands. "I'm sorry, okay. I thought with the whole amnesia thing going on, telling you would just...freak you out."
"Great plan, Scott," Stiles mocked. "Because figuring out about..." he lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one was looking, "...werewolves by myself was even freakier."
Scott shrugged awkwardly, looking way too adorable for a guy who could sprout fangs these days. "Sorry?"
Ugh, why was he saddled with such cuteness in a best friend? It made it really hard to stay angry at him. "How did you know I knew, anyway?" He'd obviously known what Stiles had been ranting about the moment he'd seen him.
"Erica called last night," Scott explained, then paused. "She may have laughed at me. A lot."
That actually seemed to make sense. "If it makes you feel any better, she totally lost out on a twenty-dollar bet to Boyd. Was there some kind of pool going about when I'd work it out?" That totally sounded like something Stiles would do in their situation.
"Not officially," was all Scott said, and then he stopped walking, facing Stiles with a chastened expression. "I really am sorry. I was going to call after Erica contacted me last night, but Derek had told us all to give you some space...and I thought he might've actually had a point for once. Or that maybe you didn't want to hear from me at all." Scott fixed him with those huge, brown eyes.
Honestly, it was like talking to a puppy - and Stiles was now going to run with every dog joke that he possibly could. "Don't be a moron. You may still be a doofus but you're my doofus. Even if you do have a waggy little tail now."
Chuckling, relieved, Scott started walking again with Stiles right next to him. "Derek's the only one who's got a tail."
"I heard that," Stiles agreed. "Have you seen it?" Because honestly, he was totally curious about exactly what Derek looked like in full-on wolf form.
"Once."
He definitely needed to hear more about that. "What did it look like?"
Scott visibly thought it over. "Surprisingly bushy."
"Huh." Throwing an arm over Scott's shoulder, Stiles did some of his own thinking. "That surprises me. He seems the type who'd be into manscaping."
"I know, right?"
Yeah, this was just like old times.
"So, what's up with your dad?"
*
In the end, his first day back at school was full of highs and lows. Pretty much all his lessons were a bust, even with the notes he'd been given, but at the same time it'd been really good to hang out with Scott and the others at lunch. Lunch itself had been another weird experience, however, as with him, Jackson and Lydia sitting together, they'd clearly been the popular table. It went against every school experience that Stiles could remember having and he couldn't help but be amazed at how much things had changed in just 18 months.
Fortunately, none of them had played up to their apparent status. Lydia, who Stiles may have worshipped for a long time but whose flaws he was more than aware of, didn't deliberately say anything to poke away at Jackson's once-obvious insecurities to get something that she wanted. Jackson didn't make comments that implied he was better than everyone else in the room (well...not often). Things really had changed, and they were just a group of friends, clustered around the same table, laughing and talking and being the envy of everyone around them.
Okay, so maybe Stiles liked it a little bit.
He was glad, however, when the end of the school day started rolling around. During last period his head had started to hurt more and he felt distinctly drowsy. The whole experience had turned out to be a lot to take in and deal with, and he was more glad than ever that he'd gotten the introductions out of the way the night before. There was barely ten minutes left in the day when Miss Harold started firmly telling the class that she'd better not hear about anyone having not sent their college applications in before the community college cut-off date and-
Moping, Stiles threw himself back against the warehouse's comfortably familiar sofa. "Oh God, why is there so much choice? Don't they know they're going to have to deal with students like me as well as the regular kids? I can barely make a choice between Coke and Diet Coke, never mind something that actually matters."
Derek, sitting just a few inches away from him, didn't laugh exactly, but then that was his speciality. A non-laugh laugh. It was very annoying. "Obviously it's just to make your life difficult," he said calmly, picking out yet another piece of paper from the vast pile of leaflets and printed sheets resting on the rickety table in front of them. The TV and DVD player had been carefully moved just for the occasion.
"No, that's why you exist," Stiles grumbled, giving him a nudge.
Derek grunted, but didn't actually disagree. "It would make things a lot easier if you'd actually narrow down your course choices."
"But there's so much to learn!" Stiles enthused. "And it's all so interesting." Stiles loved learning. He was good at it, too. Giving up, he flopped across his half of the sofa. "Bet you're sick of doing this with me and all the others."
Arm pausing mid-stretch as it placed a leaflet back on the table, Derek eventually shrugged. "Wasn't quite this complicated with them." He stopped for a moment, as if building up to something. "They're all going to the community college."
Surprised at that piece of news, Stiles straightened up. "All of them?" Sure, Stiles had figured Scott would be going to BHCC because although his grade point average had gone up since they'd all got their act together and started treating each other like pack, his grades were never going to be the best and money was always an issue. Which didn't really matter that much, because BHCC was thought of quite well for a community college. Honestly, Stiles had been thinking about BHCC himself, because it wasn't like he and Dad were rolling in it, either.
He just knew that Dad didn't want him to waste his potential, and this Co-Captain thing was still pretty new, but with the possibility of a lacrosse scholarship on the horizon despite the fierce competition he already knew there was for places...
If was probably unrealistic, he knew that. But it was possible.
"It's...easier on them," Derek explained. "If they stay near the Alpha - and each other. They'll probably do better academically at a community college than they would at Harvard."
And that was something that Stiles hadn't even considered. The pack connection. It was hard to define, or explain - he'd made Derek attempt to do that very thing numerous times - but it existed, just the same. Stiles had to wonder... "Would that be the same? For me?"
Clearly not pleased about having to answer that question, Derek did so anyway, turning his body to face him. "It's possible. You are pack."
Stiles still got a kick out of it each time he heard that. "But human."
Derek nodded. "And you have other connections, other responsibilities. Isaac, Erica and Boyd...they don't really have anyone else."
While Stiles had his dad. He thought about the others in his pack. Allison was still really only an honorary member - she and Derek were still trying to make their peace with each other - but she might well choose to stay in Beacon Hills, too, what with her dad being the only close family she had left. But Lydia and Jackson... "I can't see Lydia and Jackson going to community college."
"No," Derek agreed. "But they'll make a point to go somewhere together. At least they'll have that."
Staring at the wealth of paper spread out across the table in front of him, Stiles felt more overwhelmed than ever. Thanksgiving was coming up, fast, and if he wanted any chance at getting into a good school he needed to do this ASAP. At least it was about something normal, for once. He should probably be grateful.
Then again, going to a state or community school would definitely give him more thinking time - and breathing room.
Ugh, this was horrible.
"I know I have to do the thing that's right, that's best for me." He sighed. "But I don't want to be away from my Dad. Or you." He flicked his gaze towards Derek, before it quickly skittered away. "Or the rest of the pack. I'm just...I'm the only thing Dad has left, you know? I have you guys now and that's amazing," he gestured in Derek's general direction, "more than I thought I'd ever have. But Dad only has me. Just me." He could feel a sad smile on his mouth, thinking of all the ways he'd managed to let Dad down. "Little old me."
Derek shifted quietly next to him. Leaned in a little closer. "That, um. Doesn't have to be the case."
Confused, Stiles turned his head to meet Derek's gaze. "What doesn't?"
"You, uh." Stiles didn't think he'd ever heard Derek sound so awkward about anything in his life - and that included the time he had to explain to Stiles that werewolves didn't 'do' knotting. "Being the only one there for your dad. I mean," Derek rushed on, "I'm always going to make sure he's safe-"
"I know that," Stiles interrupted without hesitation, reaching a hand out to touch Derek's forearm, because it was true. "Of course I know that."
Nodding, Derek continued. "But you don't have to be the only one there for him for...other problems. If he's had a bad day. Or...needs help cleaning out the gutters. Or something."
"I clean out the gutters," Stiles said mindlessly, seriously trying to work out exactly what Derek was saying without actually saying it at all. Because he clearly was trying to to say something without actually saying it at all, and wasn't that always the way with Derek?
He and Derek were friends now. Really good friends. There were some days where Stiles secretly - and guiltily - suspected that he was actually better friends with Derek now than he was with Scott, but that was something he was never admitting to anyone. It'd feel like he was betraying his bro-hood, or something. Derek was the only one who hadn't made some kind of comment when he'd come out, and Stiles was grateful for it. Not that any of them had been negative about it - and not that Stiles had technically come out to all of them himself. He'd told Dad and Scott and - honestly, he'd known that telling Scott would be just like telling everyone else, and had left his friend to do the dirty work with his blessing. So what if it made him a coward? He could live with it. Scott was so determined that no should be treated differently just for being who they were - werewolves and bisexuals alike - that he'd actually gone to each one of them and made it clear that this piece of news had better not be a problem.
Really, he had two best friends.
Sometimes he wondered if the whole embarrassing Healing Incident Thing (that was how Stiles thought of it now, with the capital letters and everything) had forged some kind of bond between him and Derek. They'd already been friends, the kind of friends created in battle, but after that night things had...changed. For the better, for once. The now-frequent movie nights that'd resulted afterward had become a highlight of the pack interactions, even though they'd only been happening for a couple of months. Then again, it really wasn't hard for movie nights to be the highlight of pack interactions when all of your previous pack interactions had involved lots of death, destruction and property damage.
As a result, though, Stiles genuinely felt like he'd got to know Boyd, Isaac and Erica so much better. The whole pack wasn't always there - Lydia and Jackson were often busy with their many, many extra-curriculars - it was whatever combination of people that could make it on any particular night.
But Stiles and Derek were always, always there, sitting next to each other on the same sofa they were sitting on now.
And it was such a small thing. Such a small thing. But each time they sat there, watching another movie that Stiles had inevitably seen at least five times before and Derek just as inevitably pretended to be completely oblivious about (Derek had understandably missed out on a lot of pop culture, but he wasn't that ignorant), the near-constant constriction around his chest that was slowly starting to fade, eased.
Just a little.
"Well," Derek tried again. "If you needed help...cleaning out the gutters." That seriously sounded like a euphemism. "I could do that." He paused, looking like he was about to pee himself or something. "If you wanted."
Stiles never got a chance to reply. There was the sudden sound of choked laughter from the top of the stairs that led out of the warehouse, which meant Jackson had snuck in and was finding something entertaining. Immediately moving away from the sofa, Derek launched himself across the warehouse to see what Jackson was up to. Or maybe just get him to shut up. They definitely had a love/hate thing going on.
Stiles, meanwhile, lounged back against the sofa again. Thought over everything Derek had been saying. And started contemplating the idea that was beginning to nudge at the edge of the mind.
TBC
Next Part
by Suz
Endless thanks to rhiannonhero :) Feedback would be wonderful :) As usual, completely making it up with the education stuff ;D
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.
*
When Stiles woke the next morning, it was to the realisation that his brain had given him some more memories as he slept. At least, he thought they were memories. They'd come back to him like a dream, and in the way that his dreams always were, he only remembered bits and pieces and it seemed the harder he concentrated on them, the further they slipped away from him.
So, that was a fun start to the day.
After proving to Dad that yes, he definitely still wanted to go to school and yes, he was feeling physically healthy enough - Dad actually gave him the drunk test, made him recite the alphabet backwards, touch his nose and everything - they climbed into Dad's cruiser and took the thankfully still familiar route to school. Dad had made it extremely clear that Stiles wasn't about to drive anywhere when technically still suffering from a concussion and though it was vaguely irritating, Stiles couldn't disagree with him. Plus, doctor's orders.
Before he'd gone to bed the previous night, he'd done a lot of thinking and decided not to let one weird memory worry him so much when he had no context for it, just get on and do what he needed to do. He'd also seriously considered sending Scott an OMGWHYDIDN'TYOUTELLME??? message, but decided that kind of thing was better done in person where he could actually whack him around the head. He had, however, almost immediately taken Derek's offer to contact him if he had any questions to heart - although it hadn't been about werewolves, per se. It was only now, as he sat in Dad's car, that he received a reply.
To: Derek
if i'm supposed to stay away from peter why do i have messages from him on my phone?
From: Derek
We've had to work with him before. He thinks he's being funny. I made it clear to him last night that he isn't.
Stiles couldn't help but wonder if 'made it clear' meant 'punched him in the face'. Also, it wasn't a surprise that Peter had one seriously screwed-up sense of humour.
He sent a response.
To: Derek
thnx
His phone buzzed again barely a minute later.
From: Derek
Are there a lot of a messages? What do they say?
That made a smile tug at his mouth.
To: Derek
nothing creepy, mr none of your business. and not many.
Derek didn't respond to the joke at all, but just as they pulled into a space in the school parking lot, another message arrived.
From: Derek
Let me know if that changes.
Stiles could openly admit it to himself - it was nice knowing that someone besides his dad and Scott actively cared about him. He'd definitely gotten that impression from the others last night, too, but Derek seemed even a step beyond that. And it certainly didn't hurt that Derek looked the way he did while he did said caring.
Realising Dad was eyeing his phone curiously, Stiles smiled too much and quickly shoved it into a pocket.
"Let's get going, kid," Dad encouraged, and stepped out of the car.
Their first stop was at reception for Dad to sign in - he took school safety very seriously, and refused to be waved in just on the weight of his badge - and then they headed for the Principal's office. The journey was a little weird because most of the students they passed obviously recognised him and just as obviously knew what'd happened to him. The attention was off-putting, but what was even stranger were the amount of people who said they were glad to see him, gave him a bro handshake or fist bump - or rather, tried to. The first attempt had taken Stiles so much by surprise that he'd just stood there blankly, basically having his hand fondled until Dad elbowed him in the ribs. There were even a few girls who flirted with him, blatantly flirted with him right in front of Dad, like that was a normal thing to be doing in front of the guy who was a) sheriff and b) his Dad.
Stiles gave them a wide berth.
"So, really," he said quickly as they approached the door that was generally familiar to everyone for all the wrong reasons, "how long have I been this popular?"
"A few months," Dad told him, pausing to rap on the door, "basically since you made Co-Captain."
Yeah. That made a tragic amount of sense. And also explained why, for all his apparent popularity, Stiles had only maintained the friends he'd had already. People who suddenly liked him just for his lacrosse skills weren't friends at all. If he could recognise that now, he was sure as hell Previous Stiles had recognised it, too.
They had to wait for a little while, but after about fifteen minutes they were being shown in to see the Principal.
Who had changed. Into a woman.
There'd been no sex-change operation that Stiles was aware of, but it definitely wasn't the guy he'd been expecting to see. Why had no one told him this last night?
She seemed nice enough, however, although way too enthusiastic even for Stiles' tastes. She was constantly bringing up the fact that he was Co-Captain of the lacrosse team, that they'd do everything possible to help him 'get through this challenging time', that if it came down to it he didn't need to worry too much about his school work; he just needed to study enough specific areas to take a few tests and he could technically walk with the rest of his class at Graduation, finishing up anything he might need to at Summer School.
"I doubt that'll be necessary," Dad said proudly, "Stiles has started remembering a few things already."
Principal Brooks went on about how wonderful that was, that she was hoping for a fast recovery, and then passed over an A4 envelope that contained notes she'd asked his subject teachers to provide. That way he could see what they'd been working on lately, so he wouldn't be completely out of the loop when he went into class.
Principal Brooks was actually kind of awesome.
As they left her office, she urged both of them to contact her about anything they might need even as she handed Stiles a tardy note to take to class, just to make sure he didn't end up getting into trouble for being late.
"She's kind of awesome," Stiles told his Dad, when it was just the two of them in the corridor.
"That she is," Dad nodded. "So, what class should you be in now?"
"I have no idea," Stiles shrugged, pulling the notes free from the envelope, pleased when he saw that his class schedule was sitting on top. His eyes flicked across the information, taking it in. Glanced at the clock hanging outside the Principal's office. "I have...20 minutes of History left." He liked History, but was kind of weirded out at the idea of walking into the room part-way through the lesson and being immediately known as The Amnesia Kid.
"You better get going, then," Dad said encouragingly, placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder. He paused once it was there, though, face growing serious until Stiles met his gaze. "You good?"
Standing up straight, determined to do this, Stiles nodded. "I'm good."
Patting his shoulder proudly, Dad then pulled him into a hug. Stiles returned it gladly. "I'll be at work," Dad said quietly, "but don't hesitate if you need-"
"I won't," Stiles promised, pulling back to end the hug. "Seriously. If it gets too much I have my phone, and if the headache gets worse I have pain pills and the nurses' office is just one fainting incident away."
Rolling his eyes, Dad shoved his shoulder playfully - if gently. "Get out of here," he said gruffly.
Stiles did, with a smile, but when he reached the end of the corridor and went to turn the corner, he glanced back. Dad was still watching him go.
It did end up being weird. People did end up staring at him, making him want to sink down into his seat and disappear into a convenient yet very tiny black hole. But eventually they - and he - got over it.
*
Stiles apparently didn't have any classes with Scott - or at least he hadn't seen him in class - so recess was the first time he got to speak to him.
And confront him.
"I can't believe you didn't-"
"I know, I know." Scott forestalled any further complaining by holding out his hands. "I'm sorry, okay. I thought with the whole amnesia thing going on, telling you would just...freak you out."
"Great plan, Scott," Stiles mocked. "Because figuring out about..." he lowered his voice, glancing around to make sure no one was looking, "...werewolves by myself was even freakier."
Scott shrugged awkwardly, looking way too adorable for a guy who could sprout fangs these days. "Sorry?"
Ugh, why was he saddled with such cuteness in a best friend? It made it really hard to stay angry at him. "How did you know I knew, anyway?" He'd obviously known what Stiles had been ranting about the moment he'd seen him.
"Erica called last night," Scott explained, then paused. "She may have laughed at me. A lot."
That actually seemed to make sense. "If it makes you feel any better, she totally lost out on a twenty-dollar bet to Boyd. Was there some kind of pool going about when I'd work it out?" That totally sounded like something Stiles would do in their situation.
"Not officially," was all Scott said, and then he stopped walking, facing Stiles with a chastened expression. "I really am sorry. I was going to call after Erica contacted me last night, but Derek had told us all to give you some space...and I thought he might've actually had a point for once. Or that maybe you didn't want to hear from me at all." Scott fixed him with those huge, brown eyes.
Honestly, it was like talking to a puppy - and Stiles was now going to run with every dog joke that he possibly could. "Don't be a moron. You may still be a doofus but you're my doofus. Even if you do have a waggy little tail now."
Chuckling, relieved, Scott started walking again with Stiles right next to him. "Derek's the only one who's got a tail."
"I heard that," Stiles agreed. "Have you seen it?" Because honestly, he was totally curious about exactly what Derek looked like in full-on wolf form.
"Once."
He definitely needed to hear more about that. "What did it look like?"
Scott visibly thought it over. "Surprisingly bushy."
"Huh." Throwing an arm over Scott's shoulder, Stiles did some of his own thinking. "That surprises me. He seems the type who'd be into manscaping."
"I know, right?"
Yeah, this was just like old times.
"So, what's up with your dad?"
*
In the end, his first day back at school was full of highs and lows. Pretty much all his lessons were a bust, even with the notes he'd been given, but at the same time it'd been really good to hang out with Scott and the others at lunch. Lunch itself had been another weird experience, however, as with him, Jackson and Lydia sitting together, they'd clearly been the popular table. It went against every school experience that Stiles could remember having and he couldn't help but be amazed at how much things had changed in just 18 months.
Fortunately, none of them had played up to their apparent status. Lydia, who Stiles may have worshipped for a long time but whose flaws he was more than aware of, didn't deliberately say anything to poke away at Jackson's once-obvious insecurities to get something that she wanted. Jackson didn't make comments that implied he was better than everyone else in the room (well...not often). Things really had changed, and they were just a group of friends, clustered around the same table, laughing and talking and being the envy of everyone around them.
Okay, so maybe Stiles liked it a little bit.
He was glad, however, when the end of the school day started rolling around. During last period his head had started to hurt more and he felt distinctly drowsy. The whole experience had turned out to be a lot to take in and deal with, and he was more glad than ever that he'd gotten the introductions out of the way the night before. There was barely ten minutes left in the day when Miss Harold started firmly telling the class that she'd better not hear about anyone having not sent their college applications in before the community college cut-off date and-
Moping, Stiles threw himself back against the warehouse's comfortably familiar sofa. "Oh God, why is there so much choice? Don't they know they're going to have to deal with students like me as well as the regular kids? I can barely make a choice between Coke and Diet Coke, never mind something that actually matters."
Derek, sitting just a few inches away from him, didn't laugh exactly, but then that was his speciality. A non-laugh laugh. It was very annoying. "Obviously it's just to make your life difficult," he said calmly, picking out yet another piece of paper from the vast pile of leaflets and printed sheets resting on the rickety table in front of them. The TV and DVD player had been carefully moved just for the occasion.
"No, that's why you exist," Stiles grumbled, giving him a nudge.
Derek grunted, but didn't actually disagree. "It would make things a lot easier if you'd actually narrow down your course choices."
"But there's so much to learn!" Stiles enthused. "And it's all so interesting." Stiles loved learning. He was good at it, too. Giving up, he flopped across his half of the sofa. "Bet you're sick of doing this with me and all the others."
Arm pausing mid-stretch as it placed a leaflet back on the table, Derek eventually shrugged. "Wasn't quite this complicated with them." He stopped for a moment, as if building up to something. "They're all going to the community college."
Surprised at that piece of news, Stiles straightened up. "All of them?" Sure, Stiles had figured Scott would be going to BHCC because although his grade point average had gone up since they'd all got their act together and started treating each other like pack, his grades were never going to be the best and money was always an issue. Which didn't really matter that much, because BHCC was thought of quite well for a community college. Honestly, Stiles had been thinking about BHCC himself, because it wasn't like he and Dad were rolling in it, either.
He just knew that Dad didn't want him to waste his potential, and this Co-Captain thing was still pretty new, but with the possibility of a lacrosse scholarship on the horizon despite the fierce competition he already knew there was for places...
If was probably unrealistic, he knew that. But it was possible.
"It's...easier on them," Derek explained. "If they stay near the Alpha - and each other. They'll probably do better academically at a community college than they would at Harvard."
And that was something that Stiles hadn't even considered. The pack connection. It was hard to define, or explain - he'd made Derek attempt to do that very thing numerous times - but it existed, just the same. Stiles had to wonder... "Would that be the same? For me?"
Clearly not pleased about having to answer that question, Derek did so anyway, turning his body to face him. "It's possible. You are pack."
Stiles still got a kick out of it each time he heard that. "But human."
Derek nodded. "And you have other connections, other responsibilities. Isaac, Erica and Boyd...they don't really have anyone else."
While Stiles had his dad. He thought about the others in his pack. Allison was still really only an honorary member - she and Derek were still trying to make their peace with each other - but she might well choose to stay in Beacon Hills, too, what with her dad being the only close family she had left. But Lydia and Jackson... "I can't see Lydia and Jackson going to community college."
"No," Derek agreed. "But they'll make a point to go somewhere together. At least they'll have that."
Staring at the wealth of paper spread out across the table in front of him, Stiles felt more overwhelmed than ever. Thanksgiving was coming up, fast, and if he wanted any chance at getting into a good school he needed to do this ASAP. At least it was about something normal, for once. He should probably be grateful.
Then again, going to a state or community school would definitely give him more thinking time - and breathing room.
Ugh, this was horrible.
"I know I have to do the thing that's right, that's best for me." He sighed. "But I don't want to be away from my Dad. Or you." He flicked his gaze towards Derek, before it quickly skittered away. "Or the rest of the pack. I'm just...I'm the only thing Dad has left, you know? I have you guys now and that's amazing," he gestured in Derek's general direction, "more than I thought I'd ever have. But Dad only has me. Just me." He could feel a sad smile on his mouth, thinking of all the ways he'd managed to let Dad down. "Little old me."
Derek shifted quietly next to him. Leaned in a little closer. "That, um. Doesn't have to be the case."
Confused, Stiles turned his head to meet Derek's gaze. "What doesn't?"
"You, uh." Stiles didn't think he'd ever heard Derek sound so awkward about anything in his life - and that included the time he had to explain to Stiles that werewolves didn't 'do' knotting. "Being the only one there for your dad. I mean," Derek rushed on, "I'm always going to make sure he's safe-"
"I know that," Stiles interrupted without hesitation, reaching a hand out to touch Derek's forearm, because it was true. "Of course I know that."
Nodding, Derek continued. "But you don't have to be the only one there for him for...other problems. If he's had a bad day. Or...needs help cleaning out the gutters. Or something."
"I clean out the gutters," Stiles said mindlessly, seriously trying to work out exactly what Derek was saying without actually saying it at all. Because he clearly was trying to to say something without actually saying it at all, and wasn't that always the way with Derek?
He and Derek were friends now. Really good friends. There were some days where Stiles secretly - and guiltily - suspected that he was actually better friends with Derek now than he was with Scott, but that was something he was never admitting to anyone. It'd feel like he was betraying his bro-hood, or something. Derek was the only one who hadn't made some kind of comment when he'd come out, and Stiles was grateful for it. Not that any of them had been negative about it - and not that Stiles had technically come out to all of them himself. He'd told Dad and Scott and - honestly, he'd known that telling Scott would be just like telling everyone else, and had left his friend to do the dirty work with his blessing. So what if it made him a coward? He could live with it. Scott was so determined that no should be treated differently just for being who they were - werewolves and bisexuals alike - that he'd actually gone to each one of them and made it clear that this piece of news had better not be a problem.
Really, he had two best friends.
Sometimes he wondered if the whole embarrassing Healing Incident Thing (that was how Stiles thought of it now, with the capital letters and everything) had forged some kind of bond between him and Derek. They'd already been friends, the kind of friends created in battle, but after that night things had...changed. For the better, for once. The now-frequent movie nights that'd resulted afterward had become a highlight of the pack interactions, even though they'd only been happening for a couple of months. Then again, it really wasn't hard for movie nights to be the highlight of pack interactions when all of your previous pack interactions had involved lots of death, destruction and property damage.
As a result, though, Stiles genuinely felt like he'd got to know Boyd, Isaac and Erica so much better. The whole pack wasn't always there - Lydia and Jackson were often busy with their many, many extra-curriculars - it was whatever combination of people that could make it on any particular night.
But Stiles and Derek were always, always there, sitting next to each other on the same sofa they were sitting on now.
And it was such a small thing. Such a small thing. But each time they sat there, watching another movie that Stiles had inevitably seen at least five times before and Derek just as inevitably pretended to be completely oblivious about (Derek had understandably missed out on a lot of pop culture, but he wasn't that ignorant), the near-constant constriction around his chest that was slowly starting to fade, eased.
Just a little.
"Well," Derek tried again. "If you needed help...cleaning out the gutters." That seriously sounded like a euphemism. "I could do that." He paused, looking like he was about to pee himself or something. "If you wanted."
Stiles never got a chance to reply. There was the sudden sound of choked laughter from the top of the stairs that led out of the warehouse, which meant Jackson had snuck in and was finding something entertaining. Immediately moving away from the sofa, Derek launched himself across the warehouse to see what Jackson was up to. Or maybe just get him to shut up. They definitely had a love/hate thing going on.
Stiles, meanwhile, lounged back against the sofa again. Thought over everything Derek had been saying. And started contemplating the idea that was beginning to nudge at the edge of the mind.
TBC
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