Stiles Stilinski (
wannabebatman) wrote2014-01-05 06:44 pm
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for meanttobeabeta: late summer 2013
'Anyway, I keep picturing all these little kids playing some game in this big field of rye and all. Thousands of little kids, and nobody's around - nobody big, I mean - except me. And I'm standing on the edge of some crazy cliff. What I have to do, I have to catch everybody if they start to go over the cliff - I mean if they're running and they don't look where they're going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That's all I do all day. I'd just be the catcher in the rye and all. I know it's crazy, but that's the only thing I'd really like to--'
Okay, that's it. He can't do this, he can't read this freaking book, every time he tries he just wants to punch this stupid kid in the face, and then his eyes start glazing over and he realizes he's been reading for half a chapter and hasn't retained any of it, and then he has to reread, and its just all too much. "Uggggh," Stiles groans loudly, pulling the open book down over his face as he sprawls on his bed. "I can't do this any more, freaking summer reading is driving me nuts, and this stupid book--" The last sentence is punctuated by him hurling the paperback across the room. And of course, brilliant Stilinski aim has the book flying unerringly right for his window, where a familiar dark head is just poking through the open window, uninvited.
"Crap--"
Sorry, Derek. It's unintentional, he swears.
Okay, that's it. He can't do this, he can't read this freaking book, every time he tries he just wants to punch this stupid kid in the face, and then his eyes start glazing over and he realizes he's been reading for half a chapter and hasn't retained any of it, and then he has to reread, and its just all too much. "Uggggh," Stiles groans loudly, pulling the open book down over his face as he sprawls on his bed. "I can't do this any more, freaking summer reading is driving me nuts, and this stupid book--" The last sentence is punctuated by him hurling the paperback across the room. And of course, brilliant Stilinski aim has the book flying unerringly right for his window, where a familiar dark head is just poking through the open window, uninvited.
"Crap--"
Sorry, Derek. It's unintentional, he swears.
no subject
He nods along at Stiles' suggestion of the bus and train depots. "I checked both places, but-" He shrugs. People didn't tend to want to talk to him, so he hadn't really asked around, just gone by scent. Obviously he should have been more thorough. "If their scents have been covered they didn't do it. I... hadn't taught them any of that. Yet. But the alphas could... yeah, they could be covering their scent. I can try to pick up things they might use for it, but there are a lot of them." And it's something else he should have thought of on his own already. He could blame his failures on the distraction of the fairies, but really, it's just more proof he was never meant for this.
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"You're trying. You've been trying, and you're gonna keep trying." He isn't sure why exactly he says the words, but there's that uncanny knack of echoing Derek's thoughts again. That weird sense of something at the edges of things, a sort of knowing. He untangles his legs abruptly, one foot bumping Derek's as he does, and it's mostly intentional, the contact a way to focus since he's back to not looking at Derek again. "We can't not find them. Do you know anything about the alpha pack? Cause I'm still trying to figure out how that whole thing works. Why they haven't gone after Isaac. Or Scott." Or Stiles himself, he supposes, but what would any pack want with a difficult human teenager? "Maybe there's some little piece of info that'll connect the dots, I dunno. At least we know Erica and Boyd didn't take themselves." Even if that would have made things a lot easier.
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"I... I just don't know that much about them. They were... back then, they were new. Inheard my parents talking about them, but only a couple times and never details. And then we were back east and-" He shrugs. They hadn't really interacted with their own kind. "And-" He looks down at the floor where their feet touch. "They were leaving. To find a new pack. They just... haven't." It feels important to admit that.
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He hadn't expected Derek to be so forthcoming about everything. Yeah, he figures they've...bonded, or whatever, since the fairy fiasco, but still. Getting information from Derek has always been like pulling teeth. Either he doesn't want to share what he knows, figures what he knows is irrelevant, or doesn't want to admit that he doesn't know. This sudden volunteering...well, he knows Derek wants to find Erica and Boyd. That's enough for now. And the information is enough to get Stiles' head percolating.
"So we know they haven't chosen a new pack, and they aren't dead. That's good. We also know they didn't leave town on their own. Also good. Means chances are, they really don't like where they are, and they're gonna want to be found. But like...alpha pack. How does that work? Are they legit all alphas? Do they have some sort of supreme alpha leader? And then there's motivation. Are they after your territory, or are they after you? Because those are two totally different things. What did you hear?" Maybe Derek doesn't have the answer, or maybe he only thinks he doesn't. Only one way to find out, and that's if Stiles treats Derek like Google and comes at his questions from a hundred different angles.
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Still, there's one thing in there that needs correction. "It's not good that they were taken and need to be rescued, Stiles." He scowls and looks away. "They deserve to find a safe place and an Alpha to protect them." And it's his fault they haven't. "Not to get caught in the middle of this mess and used against me." Because the one thing he is sure of is that the Alpha pack is here for him.
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Bad choice of words. He knows that, he just wasn't thinking right. That scowl makes him wince a little, one hand lifting to rub the back of his neck, the knots of tension that always seem to settle there. "No, of course it's not good , I just meant--well, obviously they didn't mean for this to happen, and neither did you, so at least it's gonna be easier to find them. And this time, they'll be safer. You aren't the worst alpha ever. You just--need practice." He almost said 'have no idea what you're doing' there, and while true, he doesn't think that's what Derek needs to be reminded of. Again.
"I'll grab the yearbook, we can copy some photos to take around. Get started tomorrow, and maybe we'll get lucky. The alpha pack can't stay quiet forever, especially if they're planning something, right?"
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"Yeah." He settles his hand on Stiles' knee, comfort with no real thought. Apology for the not quite accusation. Thanks for the not quite praise, ridiculously grateful for the fact that it's not outright condemnation of his incompetence, like he knows Scott would provide given the slightest opportunity. He finds himself looking at Stiles, at those too-weary, too-old honey-brown eyes and sharp features starting to show the man beneath the boy, and wonders just how much he's taking away from him like this... and realizes that it doesn't matter, because he's not strong enough to walk away and do this functionally on his own.
"Yeah. Tomorrow's good," he finally answers, too low and too rough. "And... I'll try to beat some more information about the alpha pack out of Peter," he concedes, reluctant but determined. "I'm sure he knows more than he's saying."
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The hand on his knee he could ignore. He's starting to adjust to all the little touches, learning to put them all in a little box in the corner of his mind where everything else he doesn't want to think too hard about goes. So he doesn't think about the hand on his knee, ergo doesn't think about the body it's attached to, or the person it belongs to. So, no hormonal reaction, by sheer force of will. At least that's what he's deluded himself into thinking. But the way Derek looks at him? That he can't ignore, feeling uncomfortably exposed as the silence stretches. And still, he can't look away from those eyes he still can't quite figure out. Green and grey at the same time. But they were blue when he wolfed out, when he was still a beta. Eyes that look at him like they almost know what they're looking at.
He looks away just as Derek speaks again, a catch in his voice Stiles can't quite decipher. "Okay, so, tomorrow." Wow, hello puberty, we thought you were over. His voice hasn't cracked like that in...at least six months. The mention of Peter gives him an excuse to try again, clearing his throat and snorting. "Because he's always been a veritable fount of knowledge. But yeah, okay. Anything we can learn is better than nothing, right?" He's always thought that. Information is never a bad thing, just another tool to be used.
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"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He pushes to his feet, squeezing Stiles' knee one more time as he rises.