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“You suck,” Stiles vehemently spat out at Derek.
“What! Why?” was his reply.
“You know why. And get out of my way. I need to go home,” Stiles responded.
Derek moved, obligingly. Stiles shot him one nasty look before making his way to his beloved jeep. She might be old, but she was trustworthy - unlike some werewolves that Stiles knew. Hint, hint. Derek. Man the guy sucked. Well, he was unfairly attractive with his square, scruffy jaw and piercing, green eyes but he still sucked. Stiles drew in a deep breath and made his way back to his house, hoping that Dad wasn’t there yet so that he wouldn’t have to explain away all the new cuts and bruises and whatnot. The Sheriff did know about the supernatural creatures that lived in Beacon Hills after that Jennifer Blake incident. Which Stiles wouldn’t like to be reminded of, thank you very much? Seriously.
Stiles pulls pulled into his driveway and spots spotted his dad’s cruiser in the driveway as well. “Ooh no. God fuck no. I don’t want this, ugh. Why me?” Stiles moaned into his steering wheel as he steeled himself to go and meet his father.
*****
*a week before*
It all started on a Sunday. To be fair, something was bound to happen. It had been quiet. Almost too quiet. And Beacon Hills was never quiet. No seriously. If it was quiet then something was s bound to go wrong. Something supernatural. It had always been this way. Or so Stiles thinks. It probably all was because of the Nemeton. Stiles blames everything on it. Especially the part where he turned was possessed by into a fucking thousand year old trickster demon. And also tried to kill almost everyone he loved. Did he mention he got possessed? Whatever that caused the monsters to turn to the beautiful Beacon Hills was probably the Nemeton. Look at dad’s new deputy Jordan Parrish. He said he was "drawn" to Beacon Hills whatever the fuck that means. Poor guy still doesn't know what he is. Granted no one knows. Lydia’s helping him out though. Stiles wonders whether if she liked him. Probably.
"Yo, Daddy, didya make pancakes?" Stiles yells from the living room. "If you did could you bring them to me?" Stiles continues.
"Get it your own damn self, Stiles. I didn't raise you to be lazy," John yells back with an amused smile. "What? No dad. Come on pleaseee," Stiles whines. John chuckles even as he pulls out another plate to place Stiles' stack of pancakes on. He places it in front of Stiles who immediately turns his huge brown eyes on him. He looks more and more like his mother at every moment. At that moment John misses his wife even more than he usually does.
Stiles phone vibrates. "Yeah Scott? What? Be there in 10. No don't worry I’ll be fine."
At his father’s questioning glance, he shrugs. John sighs and waves him away.
As soon as Stiles pulls up in front of Lydia’s house, he hears screaming. Scott is getting off his bike the moment Stiles pulls into the Martins’ driveway. Lydia’s mom and dad were at some sort of business trip. Probably finishing up with their divorce or something. At Lydia’s scream, a banshee’s scream no doubt, Stiles scrambles out of his jeep and runs towards the front door. It swings open and Stiles sees Lydia. Lydia who has tears falling from her green eyes and the mascara smudged around her eyes. "They're dying, Stiles. They're dying."
*****
"What. Lydia? What are you talking about. Lydia for the love of God could you please just tell me more. Lydia!" Stiles pleads with her. "I don't know Stiles. I DON'T. All I know is that they're dying and that they are all perfectly human. Just that. I don't know anymore. I can't," she breaks off.
"Can't what? Lydia?" Stiles mummers.
His phone vibrates. "Dad? What? Seriously, today? Wait what? What? Just now? Oh Gods Lyds was right, "Stiles lifts his phone. “Lydia. Lydia you were right. Dad just got a called about a body. Maybe two bodies. They don't know yet," he says to Lydia. Scott enters with Allison and Kira in tow. Stiles hadn't noticed him leaving to get them. Huh. He relays the events that had taken place to the both of them. Allison sighs. She's been through a lot. Especially after getting stabbed in the stomach by the Oni. That hurt. But she was better now. Stiles hoped. He also hoped HE himself was better now. The things it made him do was were horrid. He still had nightmares sometimes, waking up screaming more than once. Allison gives him a smile and hugs him once before going over to Lydia.
"Scott, I think we should wait till Dad gathers more information. It could be like the Darach all over again. Should wait for a pattern," Stiles says. Scott nods.
"Someone should tell Derek," Kira says to the room at large. Scott nods absently. And Stiles. Stiles' heart clenches involuntarily at his name. When he'd heard about him sleeping with Braeden he broke out his father’s Jack Daniels, called Allison and drank with her late into the night. He's not sure what he said that night but every time someone says "Derek" Allison looks over at him and gives him a sad smile. He finds himself returning it though. He wonders why. Stiles sighs. He's been doing a lot of that as well. Like he's giving up on the entirety of humanity.
"Well in that case I’ll go home now. Ally you stay with Lydia and be with her. I think Scott and Kira can go home. Ally also do you have weapons? Okay good. I'll just update everyone as soon as Dad tells me. Okay?" Stiles says. At Kira's questioning glance. “I don't care what you guys wanna tell Derek. Whatever," he tells Kira. She nods. Stiles smiles. It’s an apology. From him to her. He gets into his car and drives away.
*****
Its almost 9 when his father's cruiser pulls up the driveway. Stiles stumbles down the stairs to greet his father. He shakes his head. "So dad. Hey. How was work? Did you see any bodies? Yeah? Dinner is in the microwave. Here let me get that for you," Stiles reaches for his father’s case file which is tucked under his arm. John moves away. Stiles puts his hand down.
"Anything you wanna tell me first?" John says, raising his eyebrows. Oh shit. Oohh shit. Stiles shrugs. The eyebrows go up.
“Ugh, Dad. Well you know that call I got? Well it was from Lydia. S Well she screamed. Banshee screamed, I swear. And she said that those who died were human. So yeah. Can I just see those case files though? I'm sure I'll be able to figure something out," Stiles pleads with John. The case files are handed over.
"When I got over there the bodies were half eaten. And had like these strands of spider silk lying around them. Like someone had cut them open to get into inside the bodies inside. That's kind of weird," John says.
Stiles scans through the details on the case files. “It does sound weird. I'll check on the Argents' bestiary. They've got everything in there," Stiles tells John. "Dinners on the table," he yells from up the stairs.
As soon as he reaches his bedroom he heads straight for his laptop and proceeds to comb through the entirety of the bestiary. When he's done, probably falling asleep somewhere along the way, he has a list of monsters he's narrowed down the entire bestiary for being the most likely creature that killed those humans to just a dozen. It’s about 4 o'clock in the morning when he's done and has got a crick in his neck. He promptly crashes onto his bed and thoughts of Derek’s voice lulls him into a deep and heavy sleep.
*****
Did he seriously think about Derek to make him fall asleep? Is he for real? I mean seriously. Stiles was supposed to start to get over him. Move on from Derek. It’s been 3 months and he still falls asleep to Derek's soothing and gentle voice. Stiles is such a sucker. Seriously. He hates himself sometimes. His phone vibrates on his nightstand. He sighs and picks it up. "What is it now?" He sighs.
"Do you have something on the dead bodies?" Derek's voice filters from the speaker. DEREK. IT WAS DEREK. OH GODS. BE COOL. BE COOL STILINSKI, ITS NOT AS IF YOU FELL ASLEEP IMAGINING HIS VOICE. "
Uh yeah I did do in fact. Do you want me to come over and, you know, call everyone over? Or you guys can come over here, it doesn't matter. Oh gods. Uh, I'll shut up now," Stiles rambles. Damn. He should seriously shut up. Now Derek will hate him even more than he already does. Not that he should even care that much what with Braeden and all. Ugh, Stiles needs to get his priorities sorted, seriously. Derek makes an amused noise. Like Stiles’ rambling was just an amusement. And Stiles. Stiles just hates him for it. Hates Derek for making him feel that way. Like he wasn't worth anything. But he swallows it down and sucks it up. He was never going to be enough for Derek. He wanted what Stiles couldn't give, doesn't have.
"We'll meet over at my place. It has more room for everyone." Derek finally answers. Stiles nods curtly before realizing Derek can’t see him so he makes a noise in the affirmative. Derek hangs up. Stiles flops down on his bed and sighs. The world shall continue to fuck with him then. He's sick of it.
*****
By the time stiles reaches Derek's loft, almost everyone is there already. I didn’t know he had a schedule now, Stiles thinks bitterly. Almost everyone turns to look at him when he walks through the sliding door. When he sees the absence of Peter, Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. Peter was in an asylum, he can't hurt anyone now. He stands next to Scott and waits for Lydia and Allison to join them. As soon as they arrive, all fourteen pairs of eyes started to stare turn to Stiles and he takes a deep breath and launches into motion. He waves his hands around as he talks about the creatures that it could be it when Lydia tells him to shut up and tell what he really thinks the creatures are. Arachnes he says. Vaguely humanoid but can completely look like humans while hiding. Basically like humanoid-spiders. Basically have everything a normal spider has plus a few. They wrap their victims in a cocoon of spider silk and eat them. Their bites are only for killing and breeding. But the victims. They prefer their victims to be purely human. Purely. This obviously caused some gasps all around and Jackson yelling something demeaning toward Stiles. He tunes it out. When they settle down he goes moves on to explaining how to kill them. As far as Stiles knows, there's no way possible to kill them. Even the Argent bestiary has got nothing on that. So they're going to have to be careful with it. He voices out his fear of it being a nest instead of one. Gasps echo out.
"Okay in that case we'll try to sniff it out alright? When it attacks again. We’ll try to save them. So it doesn't kill any more people. Just try to look for something that doesn't sound right. Is that okay?" Scott says. Everyone nods. "Let’s break off into groups. You will have to stay with those people, alright? Safety in numbers everyone." Stiles gets Scott and Derek. He keeps quiet and just leaves the loft with everyone else. He sees both of them exchanging glances.
The next time the Arachne attacks, it takes a couple. Both of them were college students out on a date away from everyone else in the woods. Stiles thinks this is what pushes Scott into action. Everyone leaves with their designated group. He couldn’t save that couple. They search the entire evening away and go without finding anything. And then just when Scott and Derek are about to give up, Scott catches something. Just an inkling of a scent but it was there. Derek catches it too just a moment later. Stiles now think what he’s never stopped to think till now. He thinks he gets Scott and Derek the most in control because he's completely human. And wreck able. And fragile. And so fucking useless. Especially that. He needs two people to protect him at all times. Just because he's fucking human. He laughs bitterly under his breath, making sure the werewolves don't hear him. They're not paying attention to him though. They're looking for the damn monster. Or monsters. Ugh. Stiles hates feeling useless. He trudges through the woods behind Derek and Scott, who are walking in front of him acting as shields. They're talking lowly so that Stiles can’t hear them. Probably talking about him. He breathes in deeply.
"Stiles. We caught a scent. Be careful and keep close to us, okay? Don't wander off," Scott yells to him from ahead. To be fair, in the long run they should have covered Stiles from both directions but hey, everyone's allowed to make mistakes. Even werewolves.
No one sees it coming. Not even Scott and Derek. And it attacks Stiles. This animalistic, agonized noise fights to be torn out of Stiles’ throat. The Aarachne's claws slice up Stiles’ back. He can feel the blood steadily oozing out from his wounds. There’s a steady ringing in his ears. He scrambles back and leans carefully against a tree. The Arachne has crusty spider like skin and pale blue eyes. It’s got claws that look like steel. And they are still tainted with Stiles’ blood. Derek and Scott are playing a game of defence, preventing the Arachne from shooting webs and trapping them. Derek is in his wolf form. It looks like a female. It has long stringy black hair that frames its crusty skin. Stiles remembers her. No, it. It was the cashier at Walmart. Stiles had seen it before. Her name was Amanda. She was a nice person. Now she’s this monster. Killing and eating people. He’s bleeding heavily now. But he still can think straight. Who knows for how long this will take. It’s starting to get old, this getting hurt and almost dying gig. Stiles is sick of being the token human that everyone takes for granted for. Someone who always almost gets hurt and has to take days to heal back, all the while pretending he’s not hurting both inside and out. He’s tired of hiding, faking and being the one who’s injured more than everyone else. He lets this anger engulf him and picks up the sharpest object he finds. A small, sharp and pointy rock. He hurls it at the Arachne with all of his might. It hits it in the neck. The thing goes down making these weird and animalistic noises like nails against a chalkboard. Scott and Derek stare at him mouths open.
“What?” he yells at them.
Derek has this constipated look on his face. Somewhere along the way he shifted back. He has this almost fond, yet concerned look on his face, like he cared for Stiles but Stiles in his haze of anger does not see it.
“Nothing. Just, how did you do that? I didn’t expect-“Derek gets cut off by Stiles.
“Yeah. Didn’t expect puny little fragile fucking Stiles to kill something like that? Right? I knew it. Well guess what? I’m tired of being fucking treated like a fragile thing. Like I can break at any given moment. I might be human but I’m sure as hell not fragile. I’m sick of this. The way you treat me. The way you think I’m gonna snap at any time. It’s not fair. It’s getting old. Me getting hurt and then healing. I’m tired of pretending that I'm okay. I’m not. I know I’m not. I don’t really care. I’m sick of it. So stop. Just don’t come near me. Especially you, Derek. I hate what you do to me. I don’t care anymore. I’m done,” ’ he says, his voice breaking at on the final word. Stiles turns and walks away. He knows his shirt is in tatters and there’s blood streaming for from there but he doesn’t care. He gets into his car and drives toward the McCall’s house, careful of his wounds.
Melissa is at home. He’s almost fainting but just not quite. He hopes she can stitch him up. He rings the doorbell and feels his vision blurring at the edges. When Melissa answers her door that’s the last thing he sees before he faints. When he comes to, he sees the floor of the McCall’s kitchen floor. He must be on the dining table. There’s something weird on his back. A salve or of some kind from the smell of herbs, Stiles deduces. And bandages on his back. He attempts to sit up but can’t bring himself to. He hears voices, a male and a female’s. His vision is spotty again so he stops making himself get up and falls asleep to the soothing lull of the voices of the adults. It helps him he realizes, as though there are still adults to take care of this mess.
And Stiles feels reassured. When he wakes up this time, he's on a bed. There's a blanket on him, warm and soft. He's comfortable. Melissa McCall is sitting in the chair opposite him. He's in her bed, he realizes. "Ms McCall. What? Oh God, are you okay. Why do you look like that? Why am I even in your bed?" He rambles at her. She looks up at him and smiles. Even though she's old she's still very pretty. But now she just looks dejected and sad.
"We thought you got hurt really bad. It’s fine though. Not too deep. The claws didn’t go too deep. You're fine. You're fine. Okay Stiles. You're fine," Melissa says. "They're gonna take a while to heal though. Maybe two or three weeks. We haven't told your father yet. Dr Deaton and I. We haven't. He helped put the salve on your back. It should help with the healing. But you have to tell John yourself Stiles. You have to. Just call him. It’s for your own good. And Scott called me after you fainted on the porch. He told me you yelled some things. At him and Derek. He knows you don't want to see him right now, but he wants me to tell you that he cares for you and that he hopes you are okay. Oh God, Stiles be careful. I doubt that your father can handle losing you too," She says.
Stiles nods wordlessly. "Can I go home? I just want to tell him there. Please," He says. She nods.
*****
15 minutes later, Stiles is at home. He greets his father at the doorway and wordlessly hugs him and sobs into his shoulder when John pulls him inside. He doesn't remember falling asleep but there he is hours later in his own bed, with his own comforter thrown across him. He realizes later what woke him up. Allison nimbly sliding into his bedroom through his window. She's holding something though. Two bottles of Jack Daniels.
"I heard what happened. I stole these from my dad. You need it more than he does. He never drinks anyway," she explains. And there they sit, on Stiles’ bed, drinking away into the night, talking about everything to nothing, about when Allison got stabbed and when he was possessed and everything in between.
"I don't know how she died though. Woops," Stiles giggles. "I threw the sharp thingy at her neck. Then she made this ugly noise and died there. I knew her, you know. She was a cashier at WalMart. She was nice. I think it bit her. The main one. I don't like it though. It's ugly. And mean. And it eats people. But I really do think she died cuz I hit her at the neck," Stiles slurs.
"Maybe the only way to kill them is to behead them. Yes. That might be it," Allison slurs right back. Then they stare at each other. And laugh.
"I can't believe it. We figured it out. Holy fuck, Allison, you're a genius. We're geniuses!" He whispers because his father is sleeping. Suddenly they're sober now. They make their way to Stiles laptop where they spend hours poring all over the lore on arachnes. It’s finally said that are invincible to everything except beheading.
"Wait. Scott couldn't kill it when he clawed across her forehead. Maybe it needs a special ingredient or something. Or a material. Ahh look, limestone. The rock I threw was limestone too," Stiles excitedly tells Allison.
"I'm pretty sure I can make a dagger out of limestone. Dad should be willing to help me out on this one," she says.
"Alright.You go now and ask him. If we do this now we should be done by tomorrow. I fear that they might come after everyone else. I might not be in good terms with them, but I still do care. Go, and be careful. I'll prepare the other components for the knife," Stiles says. Allison nods and leaves through the window. Stiles goes back to searching the internet.
The next morning when Stiles wakes up from where he's passed out on the bed, mindful of his wounds, his dad is knocking on his door. "Hey kid, how're the wounds? Stiles, I know you try your best but please don't ever do that again. Please. I don't- I don't want to lose you too," He says.
Stiles nods. "I promise dad," he says. John smiles at him before leaving his room. Stiles looks around for the bowl. He made a mixture last night to help the knife. It had weird scummy looking water in it. Allison enters the room clutching the limestone dagger. "I made it!" She says excitedly. Together they place the dagger in the water. Its glows slightly once before sinking to the bottom of the bowl. "I don't know why, but I think there's gonna be a huge fight today. Against the arachnes. I don't like it," Stiles confides. Allison nods. She's looking as beautiful as ever, even with her scars. She was always beautiful.
"ALLISON? ARE YOU SAFE? THEY'RE COMING!" Scott yells when Allison picks up her phone. They both exchange a look before Allison tries to placate Scott while Stiles hops around getting ready. As soon as he's done, they hurry out and into Stiles’ jeep with the dagger.
*****
When they reach the place, the fight is in full swing. Derek is bleeding heavily from like everywhere. No one is doing well, to be fair. But they are trying, even Liam. Kira is just waving her katana everywhere, scaring everyone. Lydia is launching Molotov cocktails at the arachnes.There are over 5 of them there. All huge and ugly, just shooting webs everywhere. They might have ruined spider-man for Stiles. On second thought, no. Allison and Stiles nod and Allison throws the dagger at the nearest Arachne. It hits it square across the neck, cleanly separating its body and its neck. It dies instantly. Everyone stares until Stiles yells something about the things coming near them. Everyone works together well, distracting the monsters while Allison and Stiles throw the dagger at them.
When there's a pile of bodies littering the floor, their pale sky blue eyes unblinking, everyone just stares.
"There were a lot of them," Isaac states. Everyone stares at him. Stiles tries to leave.
Derek stands in front of him blocking the way. "Where are you going?" He asks.
"Home. Where else do you think?" Stiles shoots back.
"You're hurt. You shouldn't be going alone," Derek replies.
"I'm fine. I don't need a babysitter. And besides. I'm dropping Allison off," Stiles replies.
"But-" Derek says but stiles cuts him off. "You suck," he says vehemently.
*present*
"Heyyy Dad," Stiles says. His father sighs and looks at him.
"You promised," He says.
"I know. I'm sorry. They'll heal over, don't worry. And I'm not planning on doing this again anytime soon so don't you worry. And is that a donut? It better not be," he says. His father sighs. Stiles sighs. He takes the stairs two at a time, which bad idea because he completely forgot about the back wounds which hurt now – ow, ow, omg.
He walks into the bathroom and takes a bath, cleans his wounds, applies the salve which Dr.D gave him. Apparently he made it himself. Then he bandages them. He pulls on clean clothes and is just about to sit down when the doorbell rings. He sighs and goes to open it.
It’s Derek. Stiles almost shuts the door, but Derek stops him. "Stiles. Just hear me out. I know you want nothing to do with me," Stiles raises his eyebrows before Derek continues "But I want to tell you something. I... I like you, Stiles. Always did. And I want us go be something more than friends or whatever we are. Give me a chance. Go out with me. Tomorrow," Derek says.
Stiles can't believe what he's hearing. "Is this some kind of sick joke? If it is, please leave. I can’t deal with this," he tells Derek. "
No! No, it isn't. I never thought you were weak or anything. I just treated you like that because I didn't know how to talk and be with you," Derek says. Stiles snorts. "How do I make you believe me?" He mutters under his breath. Then he tugs Stiles close to him and dips his head to press against Stiles’ lips. Derek's lips are soft and chapped. And sweet and taste slightly of peppermint. The kiss is chaste. And when they break apart, Derek has a small smile on his lips. Stiles can’t believe this is real. What he always had wanted. A date with Derek. Finally. "So will you go on that date with me?" Derek finally asks. “I think I can be persuaded,” Stiles laughs.