Chapter Text
It was early July of 1983. Stiles Stillinsk had just graduated high school roughly 5 months after turning 18. He had been working part time at the Argent factory as a welder from the day after his 18th birthday and had just been reassigned as a full time employee. Upon graduation, Stiles had been offered a full scholarship to Carnegie Mellon University as a student of literature and composition. His desire was to become an adventure novelist. Although he had held on to the official notification of admittance, his father had made it clear it wouldn't come to pass. It was not that Sheriff Noah Stillinski didn't want his only child to pursue his dream; it was that Gerard Argent was leaning on each and every worker under his employ to stay right where they were, indefinitely. Argent couldn't care less about Stiles' potential.
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Naturally, Argent didn't care about whether or not it was a holiday. His payroll showed up to work at 8 AM on the morning of July 4, 1983. Instead of only seeing their Foreman, Gerard's son Chris, there was another figure standing near the door to let them in. Stiles arrived as usual with his close friends, Scott McCall,, Jackson Whittemore, Isaac Lahey and Liam Dunbar. Stiles took one look at the stranger standing near Chris and caught his breath.
"This man is gorgeous," he told himself.
The stranger, Derek Hale, had a very similar reaction when he saw Stiles in the middle of the group. "Beautiful," he said to himself.
As the automatic doors into the central hub of the factory slid open, Derek came forward and introduced himself to the little clique of employees, "I'm Derek Hale.. May I talk to some of you as you work?"
Stiles introduced himself first as he clocked in at the security station. "I'm Genim Stillinsk, but everyone calls me Stiles. It's nice to meet you Derek, but what brings you here?" Stiles could tell that Derek had nothing to do with the Argent factory. He couldn't even recall seeing him anyplace else in Monongahela.
Derek followed Stiles into the changing room where he was getting into his welding coveralls. "I'm a Union organizer from Pittsburgh."
Stiles dropped his helmet before he could get it up to his head. So did Scott, Jackson, Isaac and Liam.
You're a what?" Scott exclaimed.
"How come you were just standing there right next to Chris and didn't get any backlash from him?" said Jackson.
Stiles perked up immediately. "Jacks, I suspect that Chris doesn't really hold to his father's ruthless attitudes. He might be a pretty firm foreman, but I've heard him say things when he didn't think any of us were paying attention, which makes me think he's actually on our side."
"I got the same impression a few minutes ago," said Derek, "he asked me what I do the same way Stiles just did. He could have had me escorted off the grounds, but he just held stoll and said nothing more."
"Just be careful you don't cause any trouble when old Gerard is observing floor activities," said Liam, " Gerard owns this entire town, including law enforcement, commerce, goods and services, the school district and of course - this factory."
Scott's mouth fell open. "Wow Liam, I don't think you said that much in one sentence since we were in junior high."
Liam blushed and yanked his helmet over his head.
Isaac chimed in. "Listen Derek, I think you really should stay away from the payroll while work is in session. We don't need any trouble."
Stiles' four friends exited the changing room, leaving Stiles and Derek
"I should go with them, Derek," said Stiles, "but I really wish to talk more to you when we have our lunch break. I want to explain in depth what Liam just told you."
"That's fine with me. It's great to meet you Stiles," said Derek pleasantly.
They shook hands. Even though Stiles had put his gloves on, he could feel some form of electric current shoot through his body which he knew Derek felt as well.
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During the lunch hour, the payroll members were all in the break area. Stiles sat with his friends as usual, only they were joined this day by Derek. Derek had been out of sight that whole morning and only rematerialized when the young men went to sit down. He took the ordinarily empty seat next to Stiles. Stiles had unwrapped a tunafish-on-whole-wheat sandwich he usually ate only once a week on Monday.
Derek said, "That tuna fish looks good, but it doesn't look as if it's enough to nourish a guy doing your work."
Jackson interjected. "Stiles' sandwich is like a luxury to him, Mr. Hale. The salary Gerard Argent has him and the four of us on is the same as every other member of this staff."
"It doesn't even matter what your position is at this factory," said Scott, "Everyone is restricted to the same paycheck every week and no benefits."
"You aren't likely to see the inside of Gerard's office, "said Isaac," but we can tell you he has every creature comfort known to humankind in there."
" I have seen the financial records of this factory, and I'm aware of how much Mr. Argent draws for his salary just to sit in that office and bellow orders," said Derek,"while everybody on your staff is subject to conditions that make a sweatshop look like a beauty counter at Bloomingdale's."
"That sounds like the kind of thing you would know about less from any kind of record than from personal experience," said Stiles.
Derek bowed his head briefly. He then looked up and spoke so softly, all 5 boys had to crane forward to hear him. "My father James worked here. He was a welder like Stiles. My mother Talia was located in the payroll department."
"Hold it," Scott suddenly cut in, "My mother told me what happened to them. She works at the hospital with Dr. Alan Deaton."
"I think my dad, the sheriff, also told me," said Stiles, "but go on Mr. Hale. Jackson, Isaac and Liam don't likely know."
"Call me Derek," he said.
"Okay Derek, we'd like to know what happened to your parents," said Liam.
Derek's face momentarily grew dark. "One night 10 years ago when I was 15, there was an explosion at my father's station. The fixture he was welding exploded unexpectedly. The uncontrolled steel burned right through his uniform and knocked him to the floor. Gerard's son, Chris, ran to get my mother. When she arrived 5 minutes later, a shelf full of equipment that had been destabilized by the explosion fell over and buried her on the spot next to my father. I lost both of them in the same hour."
"You know," hissed Jackson, "I believe I did hear something about that incident. My adoptive father is an attorney, and he said that every effort was being made to conceal any record of that incident. Argent did not want any kind of trouble from law enforcement outside this community."
"My dad couldn't do anything about it either," interjected Stiles, "Gerard also owns the police as Liam put it this morning. Any criminal activity relating to the Argent family is pushed under the carpet 30 seconds after it takes place."
"I also heard about it from Brett Talbot and Vernon Boyd," interjected Isaac, "They were at stations 50 feet away at the time."
"It wasn't bad enough that I was now an orphan and didn't have any place to go," said Derek, "I then had no hope of obtaining justice for the deaths of my parents."
"I'm sorry, Derek," said Stiles.
"It's alright, Stiles," said Derek, "I made my peace with it by doing something which nobody else in this community had done. I managed to graduate 3rd in my class at Morningdale High and get a scholarship to Carnegie Mellon without having a high profile. That meant I stood a chance I wouldn't need to be another one of Gerard's quasi-slaves."
"We're more like a zombie payroll here, Derek," said Isaac. Everyone burst out laughing because of how true it was. This was probably the most intelligent conversation the 5 boys had had since before they graduated high school.
Stiles calmed down and said with deliberation, "You knew this was not only one of the last remaining factories but also one that has no workers' organization. That's what brings you back here now, isn't it?"
"That's very astute, Stiles," said Derek.
"Stiles here was our class valedictorian this year," said Jackson, "He's got the biggest cranium in this whole area code." Everyone laughed again.
Scott checked his watch. "it's almost time we get back to our stations," he said," When should we talk about this again?"
"I never thought I would hear myself say this," said Isaac, "but I'm with Scott. Where can we pick this up where there are no walls with ears?" "What do you mean, Isaac, you 'never thought you'd hear yourself say that'?" asked Scott. "Ah, you know what I mean man!" Isaac said. "Let's meet this Friday night around 6:30 PM at the Telegraph Row Inn," said Derek, "Try to tell as many workers you think could be trusted to join you." "We'll have to tell everyone that's interested to stagger their departure from Morningdale," Stiles suggested. Everyone agreed. As they exited the break area, Stiles and Derek looked at each other for 15 seconds which felt to Stiles like an eternity. The young man needed to remind himself he still had work to do.