Chapter Text
The sounds of Derek pacing the floor put you on edge. Boyd had healed up alright by the time you’d made it back here on foot, but it wasn’t enough to ease his worries. Erica sat by Boyd's side while he slept, so you and Isaac were lucky enough to witness Derek’s downward spiral. He wasn’t even saying anything, just pacing. Occasionally, you’d share looks with the blue-eyed boy, but neither of you could summon the courage to ask Derek to share his thoughts. And you’d rather be in Boyd’s position than tell him to sit the hell down.
Luckily, you didn’t have to when he stalked off on his own. You grinned victoriously at Isaac, but his frown told you something was wrong. Your expression came to match his when you heard dual sets of footsteps come bounding down the stairs.
“I’ll handle it,” you whispered to him. He nodded a little, then made to go check on Boyd.
Derek had beat you to the pair of them and was already dragging Scott off by his ear. Stiles couldn’t take two steps before you blocked his way.
“Come on, let me-“
“He’d just about skewer you right now,” you mumbled and nodded toward the staircase.
“You’re gonna make me wait outside? I don’t belong in the wolf den, huh?” You rolled your eyes at his tone and made for the stairs yourself.
“I wanna talk to you,” you said quietly over your shoulder. It was enough to get his attention, as you’d been banking on. You didn’t get far into the alleyway above before Stiles' patience broke.
“What’s this about?”
You sighed and thought again if you really wanted to do it, “Wednesday night’s the full moon.”
His eyebrows furrowed, “And?”
“And I heard chains rattling around in the box Derek pulled out earlier,” you admitted.
“Well, the chains aren’t negotiable,” Stiles shrugged, “I locked Scott up his first time.” When you smirked a little, he glared, “Don’t!”
“Sorry!” You hadn’t even said anything, but just couldn’t help the smirk. Trying not to piss him off too bad, you got back on track, “I guess I just wanted to know how all that went? If you had any advice.”
He only stared at you for a second before he broke, “You want my advice?”
“You’ve sort of been at this longer than me? And Derek’s not the guru type,” you shrugged.
“Tell me about it,” Stiles shook his head. He remembered how Scott had struggled to get anything solid from Derek. How long it had taken Scott to get to the level of control where he wouldn’t have to chain his best friend up, and still, he was worried about how that would go. “Fine, yeah, just, swing by my house tomorrow?”
“Okay,” you nodded, “When?” You spun on your heel when you heard Scott barreling up the stairs. “You good?” He ignored your question, clearly annoyed at whatever Derek said to him, and made a b-line for Stiles’ car. He slammed the passenger side door of the jeep behind him.
The two of you only blinked at him.
“Two,” he said, turning back to you. You nodded once, and he jogged to catch up with Scott. Soon enough, you could only see his headlights as he backed out of the alley.
———————————
It was weird to be at Stiles’ house as an invited guest. You rocked on your heels for a second before ringing the bell. You could hear Stiles race down the stairs, but his father beat him to it.
“Hello,” Mr. Stilinski smiled at you. He seemed in good spirits, or maybe he was just happy he’d have fuel to bother his son with later.
“Hi,” you nodded, returning his smile, “Is Stiles in?”
Before the older man could say anything, Stiles pushed past his shoulder and onto the porch, “Yup! Let’s go.” He latched onto your elbow and tried to drag you toward his car. He thoroughly underestimated your strength, though, and you didn’t let him tug you far.
“Where?”
“The mall,” he tried again, but you wouldn’t budge. You simply stood and watched him embarrass himself for a few seconds.
“You know I can walk on my own?” He dropped his arm then, and you heard his dad muffle a snort. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Stilinski,” you nodded at him before following Stiles to his jeep.
“Uh, you too…” he looked at Stiles then, hoping his kid would make an introduction. The boy just flailed a bit before hopping in the driver’s seat. Noah counted himself lucky when his son waved goodbye from the window.
“Couldn’t even introduce me?” You raised a brow at Stiles as started down his street.
“Can’t have my dad in with the wrong crowd,” he snarked, making you roll your eyes.
“Oh come on, how would he be in more danger around me than around Scott?”
“Because you’re not house-trained,” he smirked. When you slapped his arm he cried out in pain, “What was that for?”
“I’m asking you for help! Don’t be a dick!”
He sighed, “Fine, okay, what do you want to know?”
“How much time do you have?” You asked. He risked pulling his gaze from the road at your tone of voice. If he thought you sounded scared, you looked worse. Pity stabbed through his chest, then, sharply.
So, he started at the beginning, “When Scott got bit, it was my fault.”
———————————
“Shit,” you shook your head, sipping your frozen Auntie Anne’s lemonade. Stiles had only finished his version of the events of last semester after you’d hit Macy’s and stopped for pretzels. His account seemed scarier than Scott’s somehow.
“I know,” he nodded, wide-eyed. “Point being, Scott only found his bearings on full moons when he found something to focus on. Like a dancer picking a spot to come back to before they start spinning.” Stiles popped a whole pretzel nugget in his mouth.
“Interesting,” you nodded.
“I’d ask Derek about this too, though,” Stiles said. He held his free hand up in defense when you sent him a glare, but he carried on, “I know you’re not in love with his methods, but he’s had like twenty-five years worth of full moons. I’m sure he does his own sort of spotting.”
You only shrugged. He was right not that he needed confirmation.
“So what are we doing at the mall?” You asked, trying to pick a lighter topic. He paused as he was about to bite into another piece of pretzel.
“I need to get Lydia a birthday gift,” he quietly admitted. You clenched your jaw, of course, you were out shopping for fucking Lydia. “Her big birthday bash is coming up.” You missed when you didn’t know that information.
“You were invited?” Your face gave away your skepticism.
“Everyone’s invited,” he nodded, before making eye contact and wincing.
The whole school had gotten wind of your falling out, just not the details. At least the bitch had done you that service. It was hard not to think about the one and only of her birthday bashes you had attended. You couldn’t imagine the turnout would be anywhere near that, though, not with the way people had been talking about her. Her naked romp through the woods made people think she should be institutionalized. You’d been smiling as she bled popularity points the past few weeks. At least until Stiles just told you the full story of her fall into supernatural.
Stiles pressed his lips together, trying his hardest to supress his curiosity. He squinted at you until you rolled your eyes.
“Just ask,” you sighed. He let out the breath he’d been holding.
“What happened there?” He looked at you, hoping for some information. Before all this, you never would have thought he’d be so nosy.
You shook your head, eyes darting off to the side. Picking up your lemonade, you stalled by taking a sip. Still, he looked at you expectantly. You did your best to hide behind the straw.
“I’m not sure you want to know,” you shrugged, not meeting his eyes. When he crossed his arms you sunk a little lower in your seat. “I’m not sure you’d believe me,” you thought maybe he wouldn’t hear you over the din of the food court, but his expression told you otherwise.
Guilt and remorse weren’t common for him, at least that was the impression you got. You caught a glimpse the night you’d accidentally interrupted his conversation with his father, but other than that you’d pretty much only gotten snark from him. His face was softer now, but he didn’t seem to know what to say.
“I still want to know,” he said. His tone was even enough that you didn’t think he’d give you grief over changing topics. Then again, no one had ever asked for your side of that story.
With an inhale, you told him the truth. At least some of it. You weren’t up for making him realize that his dream girl was more like a nightmare.
“Long story short,” you crossed your arms, “I told her I was worried that Jackson was bad for her and she threw it back in my face. She said a lot of cruel things about me- our friendship, and made it pretty clear that that was over.”
Stiles looked away then, “I’m sorry.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. As much as he admired Lydia, he wasn’t always blind to the way she treated people.
“Not your fault,” you shook off the memory. You stood from the table then, and grabbed what was left of your shared snack. He stumbled up to follow you. “So what are you buying the girl who has everything?”
“Not sure yet,” he shook his head, seemingly deep in thought. It was almost sweet how much effort he was putting in. It would've been if his feelings weren’t so clearly one-sided. You were mostly humoring him out of pity.
And humor him you did. All throughout Bath and Body Works, Sephora, and Target. You gave him a very firm NO, however, before he could even think of suggesting going into Victoria’s Secret as you walked by it.
Eventually, at your reccomendation, he settled on an enormous, plush, pink blanket. You thanked your lucky stars that he’d finally made a decision.
The sun was setting by the time he pulled back into his driveway. You swiftly unbuckled and opened the passenger door before his voice stopped you.
“Hey, uh, thanks for your help with,” he nodded toward the backseat where he’d stuffed Lydia’s gift.
“Sure,” you nodded back, a little surprised. “Thanks for your advice on…”
“No problem,” he grinned a little. After another few seconds of eye contact, you hopped out of the jeep. Closing the door, you turned to find Stiles blocking your path.
“Good luck on wednesday,” his proximity took you by surprise, and so did his tone. You were too distracted to give him a sincere thank you, though.
“Good luck when you get inside,” you resisted a grin. Stiles knit his eyebrows together, and you laughed a little, “I have a feeling the sheriff’s going to interrogate you.” He looked over your shoulder, then, and spotted his dad watching from one of the front windows. He groaned, which only made you laugh more.
You clapped his shoulder and gave it a friendly shake as you sidestepped him, “Goodnight!”
He trudged inside as you crossed the street, deliberately taking your time so you could catch some of their conversation.
“What the hell was that?” The sheriff met him in the doorway, voice hushed, “You didn’t make a move?”
“What?” Stiles just sounded confused.
“And you let her go without her blanket?!”
“This is for Lydia!” Stiles snapped.
His dad groaned, “Hopeless.”
You covered your amused grin as you got into the driver’s seat of your car.