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If there was anyone around in this closed off, secluded, open wilderness part of the county, they probably would have heard the desperate, terrified screams coming out of the barn that night, "Oh shut UP with the screaming," came the exasperated sigh of the man leaning against one of the stables, "NO ONE is coming for you, obviously, no one can HEAR you, how long is it going to take for you to realize that? Or.. does it just hurt THAT much to have your junk cut off with plyers?" he shrugged to himself, pushing off of the stable and waltzing slowly towards the man on the ground, "I mean, I guess it probably does... wich, just so you know, was NOT my main motivation for doing it, I'm not a sadistic person... I like clean kills, clinical, just get it done and over with, see this isn't some kind of passion or cheap thrill of mine, I do it to make the world a better place... and all of that other crap that righteous people like me are supposed to say, you wanna know why I've left you sitting here for five minutes without your bits and peices?" he asked, tapping the plyers threateningly against the wall of the barn as he approached, "Because you used it against someone else, you took away someone else's own autonomy, you took away their right to have a choice, to have a say, you took everything from that poor girl... and now I'm gonna take everything from you," he bent down, the screams intensifying as he angled the pliers the right way, "You stuffed a rag in her mouth, and took away her voice so she couldn't scream anymore, so now, I'm gonna take away YOUR voice too," he moved the pliers closer, setting the metal on the man's throat as the screaming continued, "I have to admit though.... I've always wondered what vocal chords look like up close,"
~+~
He felt that he really should stop being surprised by new neighbors, they seemed to come and go like the wind around here after all... for some reason.... still he couldn't help but get a little nervous every time the moving truck pulled up and he began to fidget, usually meeting the mysterious new neighbor even just once would tell him what kind of person they were and he could better estimate how much of a threat they were, unfortunately, as he would find out later that day, this was not always the case, and even after being in constant contact with the new neighbor for months, he still wouldn't quite have a grasp on what kind of person he was.... this didn't stop him from trying though and without hesitation he slipped on his shoes and ran to the door, deciding there was no better time than the present and trekking across to the next house over
"Hey!" he shouted with a freindly smile, the man who was in the middle of moving some boxes turned- and wow was he hot like burning, like "Uptown Funk" is clearly about him wow- and wiped some sweat from his forehead, "Can I help you?" he asked, blinking innocently at him, ok, if ever there was a time when there was not enough air in the outside world... "I'm Stiles," he blurted out, swallowing nervously and rubbing the back of his neck, "I um, live across the street? Well... right next door actually.. um... howdy neighbor," he said with a grin, "Derek," the other man said softly, giving him a curt nod before turning back to his boxes, "Need any help?" Stiles offered, "I'm fine," Derek replied, Stiles nodded slowly, nose twitching, and just as he was about to start trying to scrape up a "So how's the weather?" kind of question the sound of barking saved him, "You have a dog?" he smiled, "Dogs," Derek corrected, "Where?" he asked eagerly, "Car," ok, so Derek was obviously the king of answering questions in two syllables or less, Stiles could live with that, he ran over to the car and peeked in, seeing a little Yorkie staring back at him and climbing up against the car door to start barking, "Awwwww what a lil' cutie!!" he cooed, only to have a massive *WOOF!* blast right in his ear when he turned and saw a German Sherpherd standing right beside the Yorkie, "Holy God..." he muttered, clutching his chest in shock when the much, MUCH larger dog just sat there, panting at him, before launching into another earth shattering *WOOF!*, "Yeah ok thank you," Stiles squeaked, taking a step back, he could hear Derek snicker in the background and he glared at his back, the guy probably only bought the tiny one just to lure in unsuspecting dog lovers like Stiles so the behemoth could scare the crap out of them.... "I have cats," he noted abruptly, "I'm gonna go get 'em, you should meet 'em, you, not you know Jessie and James here, but you, you should meet my cats," he said awkwardly, racing into his house as fast as he could, mostly because he just knew if he stood there any longer either the dog would eat him or he would die of embarrassment, but still..... the guy, Derek, seemed like a pretty minimal threat, and his dogs- although loud, didn't appear dangerous, their barking on the other hand.... Stiles would have to learn how to get around that barking somehow in the future.....
"Derek! Meet Rizzoli and Isles, Rizzoli and Isles, meet Derek!" Stiles grinned as he offered up two beautifull Ragdoll cats, it wasn't that Stiles had something against tabbies or anything, it's just that these two had been in a litter his neighbor had and well.... Stiles had zero control over his life.... "You named your cats after a detective show?" Derek snorted, "Um, no, I named them after the people IN the detective show, I'm a mystery writer Derek, OFCOURSE I'm going to name them after great detectives, I COULD have named them Shinichi and Heiji but... they're girls and I hate it when people call them boys so..." "I don't understand that reference," Derek said blandly, "Ofcourse not," Stiles grumbled, "Listen, Stiles, it was nice to meet you and I'm sure I'll see you later, but I have to make a phone call.." Derek began, "O-Oh.. yeah, yeah ofcourse, right, I can... I'll leave, you um... know where to find me," Stiles grinned awkwardly, giving Derek a little wave and dashing back into his house with his cats, once inside he set them down, slumping against the door and cursing to himself, he felt like an absolute idiot... he'd have to write this down before he lost the feeling....
~+~
I screamed loudly at the blood-
I screamed loudly |
I screamed loudly when I saw the blood
And then
And th|
|
Stiles groaned and dragged his hands down his face, why, WHY did he suddenly get an onslaught of writer's block when he ACTUALLY got started writing early today? Why was this always his luck? It seemed like every time he got started early, he had writer's block, and every time his ideas flowed, it was so late at night that he was barely able to keep his eyes open, "WHY isn't there a middle ground!?" he groaned, sliding backwards in his desk chair and cursing at the ceiling, that cursor, ever hovering on his blank page, was going to be the death of him, if there was one thing Stiles was known for in the writing world it was his speed, he wrote so quickly that he usually had a new manuscript on the publisher's doorstep before his latest book was even on the shelves, but this one... this one just felt so STALE.... like he needed something new and he didn't know what to do about it... he fidgeted more than usual before finally getting up from his chair, stalking over to the window to go see if the new neighbor still needed help moving in, ofcourse, as he did this, he happened to catch sight of Derek moving boxes without his shirt on, because... it was June.... and there was heat... and as a writer he really felt he should be finding better words to describe what was happening right now but that just FIGURED, Derek, his new neighbor, had caused him to go stupid.... although..... grinning, he spun back to his computer desk, frightening the cats, and started typing vigorously
I screamed loudly when I saw the blood coming under the door and took a step back, gasping in shock when I felt something hard behind me, spinning on my heels, I took an unsteady breath when I realized it was just my boyfreind, in all his muscular glory, standing behind me
Oh yes.... this, Stiles believed as he snickered to himself, was going to be a best seller....
~+~
Murder-mystery writing was convenient, and it wasn't even something Stiles realized until the first year or so of doing it, but being a murder-mystery writer was really the best job EVER for someone to have if they dabbled in homicide, so many people were caught up in lying about their researching exploits, "Why did you Google Chloroform?" "Why did you Google how to wreck a car engine?" "Why did you Google how to get away with murder?", well, besides the fact that that last one was now a hit TV show (thank you ABC), Stiles had a blanket answer for every single incriminating thing he's ever Googled, checked out, bought, or glanced at in passing- "I'm a murder mystery writer, I have to do my research", and it had actually saved his tail once or twice too, and if confronted with "Why didn't you mention car engines in your book if you Googled them?" it was always easy to counter with "I scrapped that idea", so although he hadn't known it when he started his first book, this was actually the perfect cover for him, like now for instance, if he had any other job and was Googling open cases of sexual assault or murder, well, that could raise some red flags, but being that he was a murder mystery writer.... Stiles was pretty sure that, just like everything else, he was going to get away with it
~+~
Scott knew, because obviously, ofcourse Scott knew, Scott was there the first time it happened, before it was ever intentional, back when it was just... the beginning of it all, when Jackson Whittemore thought he could get away with beating Stiles senseless and Stiles, in trying to get him away, reached over, grabbed the baseball bat that had fallen out of his locker, and slammed it over Jackson's head, Scott had been at the police station testifying that it was all in self defense, that had been the spark that lit the fire, the second time was also unintentional although slightly more planned, walking down the street alone at night was a bad idea, but when he heard a woman screaming and crying for help in an ally a few yards away Stiles rushed towards it, he had kicked the guy where it counted and maced him and after telling the girl to run he picked up a trash can lid and did what he had to do, he was fully prepared to go down for that one ... except that the girl never told anyone, she kept Stiles a secret, a secret sin to lock up in her mind, she had sought him out three years later when his first book was published and thanked him, said that she slept easily every night knowing there was a real life superhero- a guardian angel- to watch over her, Stiles hadn't known how to take that, but he remembered calling Scott that night, telling him what had happened, listening to Scott plead with him to go to the police and refusing to do it, he stopped telling Scott after that, directly anyway, but he had a feeling that Scott knew, knew when it went from completely unintentional to starting to wander the streets at night to look for someone to take out to what it was now, exploring police records and internet reports, finding the worst of the worst, stalking them for a small amount of time, and then going in for the kill, he was helping the world, he figured, and not in some *~perfect society~* horror movie way, but in the "That's one more girl who won't get raped" way, the "That's one more guy and his boyfreind who won't get shot in the head" way, the "That's one more kid who never has to be punched in the mouth again" way, Stiles' mission was never to be a superhero or save the world, he just .... he just wanted to spare someone else the missing teeth and spilled blood and bruised eye that he had once had, he wanted to spare someone the broken pride, the fear that threatened to vomit up any moment, the anger that seeped deep into your bones until you became what Stiles was, he didn't want to save the world, he wanted to save a person, and so yeah, to that credit, Scott knew
"Yes Stiles, they're both fine," Scott sighed over the phone as he scratched Rizzoli behind the ears, "You're SURE?" Stiles asked worriedly as he dragged a couple of birthday cards into his shopping basket, he needed to stock up on as much random stuff as possible so that the things like the spare clothes wouldn't look suspicious, he always brought his own bleach and matches from home, as well as nail polish remover instead of lighter fluid- harder to trace and easier to mistake for an accident, "Stiles, I babysit your cats like once a month, don't you think we're all used to eachother by now?" Scott reasoned, and ok, he had a point, but Stiles had only had those cats for a YEAR, they were his pride and joy! He'd just DIE if something happened to them! Or if something happened to Scott too, incidentally, "Alright alright, well tell my babies I love them ok? I've gotta go, see ya' soon dude," he chuckled, hanging up and shoving his phone in his pocket as he made his way to the counter of the gas station to check out
~+~
It really wasn't his fault, Stiles reasoned as he limped towards the kitchen, if the guy had just STAYED STILL like Stiles told him to none of this would have happened, stupid, gigantic, brutes... Stiles hated the big ones, they were so much harder to take down, "The bigger they are the harder they fall" was just BS! But what could he do? He had had the guy nearly finished, reached over to grab his matches and acetone so he could dispose of things as quickly as possible, and then the guy had grabbed at Stiles' wrench! How stupid! Obviously he had to correct that but when he jammed his knee into the guy's jaw he found out just how hard-headed the sex offender's head was (wich made alot of sense once he thought about it) and long story short he had a sizable bruise on his knee now, so here he was, all he wanted was to make a sandwich and he was hauling his bar chair to the other side of the counter so he could sit down wile he did it to avoid putting pressure on the already tender wound, oh well, he had died slowly so he guessed that counted for something, pay back for the six women he had gotten to before the cops had gotten to him, atleast that they knew of, if they weren't let out on parole so easily Stiles wouldn't even have to DO this as much... but complaining to himself really wasn't helping his mood so he tried to concentrate on something else, grabbing a plate from the cabinet and trying to switch his thoughts back to the movie he had seen with Scott last week, just as he was starting to re-immerse himself in the world of superheros, however, he was snapped out of it by the doorbell ringing, groaning slightly, he set the rest of the sandwich supplies on the counter and headed for the door, swinging it open and stumbling over his words when he realized it hadn't been Scott who was there for a visit... it was Derek... the neighbor who he was pretty sure hated him and who he was also pretty sure he would marry TODAY if he had the chance... "Umm..." was all he could manage to say, "I... want to apologize for the other day," he said awkwardly, not making eye contact with Stiles at first, "I know I was rude, I was just exhausted and... there's no excuse, so I'm sorry," he finally concluded, glancing up at his neighbor, "Dude, trust me, it's no problem, I get like that too sometimes, I COMPLETELY understand, do you um... wanna come in for a sandwich or something?" he offered with a slight smile, Derek smiled back at him, nodding slowly, "Yeah... that would be great," he agreed
~+~
"You need help with your car?" Stiles called over his shoulder as he rolled down the window of the jeep, Derek looked up from were he was in the driveway, wiping the sweat from his brow, "No thanks, just changing the oil," he replied, Stiles nodded slowly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Do you want something then? Like maybe water or....?" "I'm fine," he insisted, "Not even a popsicle?" this made Derek pause, glancing up at Stiles slowly, "...... Do you have cherry?"
~+~
The way he sucked on that popsicle was sinfu|
The way he sucked on that pop|
The way he|
|
...
..|
For the first time in his life the killer felt something|
For the first time in his li|
For the|
....
...|
He wanted to protect him, it was as simple as that, as simple as the way his lips curved around the rim of the glass, he just... wanted to protect him, no matter the cost....
Writer's block was a curse but there was nothing more terrible than being so consumed with someone that you can't focus on what you have to do, he could sit here and wax poetic for Derek all day but he had a feeling his publisher (and fans) wouldn't be thrilled at an incomplete mystery novel in favor of poorly written ramblings about how in love he was for his new neighbor, it sucked, let's be honest, it really, really sucked, and Stiles just needed to take a breath and clear his head, so he got up from his computer desk, shaking Isles off of his lap in the process, and stalked to the kitchen to get some tea, he had spent all afternoon talking to Derek, smiling with Derek, laughing with Derek... it was like the guy had suddenly INVADED his thoughts and feelings and everything else, it was kind of terrible, actually, if he was being honest... but it was also really..... nice.... he couldn't remember the last time he would rather write a kissing scene over a killing scene, not since he was in highschool, it was just difficult and frustrating and UGH.... because his fan base wasn't based on kissing and fluffy feelings, it was based on a ruthless serial killer murdering his way through California, groaning to himself, he started boiling the water for his tea and glanced up when he noticed a strange truck sitting outside, he had never seen it before.... walking closer to the window, he leaned over, peering out and seeing it clearly parked at Derek's, he was about to shrug it off and go back to his tea when he noticed something rather odd, he could make out Derek's figure through the window as well as another body, and Derek.. seemed defensive... he was leaning against the kitchen counter and looking away, as if something terrible was approaching, and something just seemed... off... really, really off.... so he looked closer, and when he saw the woman's hips from the corner he could barely make out the shape of a gun in her back pocket.... he turned the stove off quickly and ran out of the house, not bothering with his jacket, and racing through the yard, coming to Derek's door quickly and pounding on it anxiously, a moment later it swung open and he was greeted by an angry looking blonde- the owner of the hips, apparently, "I'll be back to see you soon Derek," she hummed sweetly, waving at Stiles and fast-walking to her truck, she didn't even get the door completely closed before she had the engine on and started driving away, "Stiles, is everything ok?" Derek asked quietly, Stiles jerked his attention around, staring back at Derek and swallowing, he noticed the faint tremor in his body, a line of blood trickling off the side of his face, and a nice bruise shaping up around his bare stomach, Stiles took one look at him and pushed himself into the house, shutting the door behind him
"I'm ok Stiles, really," Derek said quietly, hissing when Stiles smoothed the bandage on his temple, "You are NOT ok and you're lucky I'm not calling the cops on that .... that.... monster," he growled out, "I'm alright Stiles," Derek huffed back, Stiles narrowed his eyes, leaning down and gently tilting Derek's chin up with his index finger, "Don't lie," he said softly but sternly, Derek swallowed, flinching slightly and inhaling through his nose, "I won't ask you any questions that you don't want to answer, if you want to talk, I'm more than happy to listen, if not.... I understand, talking about the things that hurt you can be even more painfull than the original wound sometimes..." he said, placing an ice pack over the bruise despite Derek cringing and growling, "I-" "Don't lie, you can tell me or not tell me but don't lie and say it's alright when it isn't, or that you're ok when you aren't," he demanded, pushing the first aid kit aside and sitting on the coffee table in front of Derek, who was on the couch, "I promise, it's ok Derek," he said softly, taking Derek's hand gently, the larger man tensed and flinched slightly but to Stiles' delighted surprise didn't pull away, "I just... have a complicated history with Kate," he replied quietly, Stiles nodded slowly, "She said she'd be back," "Yeah..." "What are you going to do about that?" Derek shrugged, looking down, "I... I have no idea, honestly," he admitted, Stiles nodded slowly, standing up and gesturing for Derek to stand as well, "Well until we get this fixed why don't you come and stay with me?" "S-Stiles I couldn't-" "No, you can, it's ok, your dogs can come too, Rizzoli and Isles will get along with them fine, just... I do NOT want you over here alone," "I'm fine Stiles! I don't need help! I don't .... I've been on my own for years now and I can be on my own again!" he protested, if it was any other person.... Stiles would have left, but it wasn't just any other person, it was Derek, and he wasn't about to leave Derek like this, "I made lasagna, why don't you come over and eat?" he said it like a statement and Derek looked away, jaw tense, "Derek... please?" he said softly, placing a hand on Derek's shoulder, the larger man looked down, heaving a small sigh and nodding slowly, "I.. I can do that," he said softly, Stiles smiled gently at him, running his thumb across Derek's skin, "Go pack up some of your clothes, I'll wrangle the dogs," Derek wondered as he started up the stairs how this happened, he wondered when exactly Stiles became such a ruling figure in his life when they barely knew eachother, but then again maybe it wasn't even like that, maybe it was something different, more instinctive, more ... primal....
A few days passed after the initial invite into his house and Stiles was finding Derek to be a fairly easy person to live with, he was a little up tight at first but over time he had started relaxing and with what could only be a staple of luck his dogs actually got along with the cats just fine, the only problem, in fact, seemed to be the nightmares, they were terrible, gut-wrenching, house-quaking nightmares, and even though Derek told him after the first night that he didn't have to wake him up, that he would eventually wake himself up, Stiles continued to wake him night after night, always claiming he was already up (and only being honest half the time) and insisting that Derek made too much noise (a complete lie), he had a feeling that Derek didn't believe him but he wasn't about to call him on it either, if Derek didn't mind being quiet, then neither did Stiles, it would have been nice if things could stay that calm, that simple, Stiles hadn't even glanced at a new possible target with Derek in the house and that was only partly out of the worry that Derek would somehow find out, mostly, he just didn't feel like it, his concern was focused entirely on Derek and the listless feeling in his bones that he had when he wasn't writing was focused instead on making Derek comfortable, or on finding out more about him, he could tell at times that Derek found his concern a little unusual and if he was made uncomfortable by it he didn't act like it, Derek, Stiles decided, was a rare gem, someone he could really feel good about being around, about falling for, and maybe that simplicity would have stayed... if it weren't for a few nights later....
Stiles groaned lowly, rubbing his eyes in frustration and squirmed around, he needed to get this last paragraph finished tonight, he just HAD to... he was already behind... he decided to get up and go grab some tea, maybe that would help him think... sometimes even just walking around helped him think, ofcourse as soon as he opened the door to his room and stepped into the hall Derek's dogs raised up from their spots on the bed across the hall and growled lowly at the noise, Stiles just rolled his eyes, "Shhh, it's just me," he hissed, although he knew the dogs didn't know exactly what he was saying, they quieted down and settled back into the bed, assumingly going back to sleep, Stiles, in the mean time, was reminded of why he had cats... he loved dogs, he was a dog PERSON in fact, but they were noisey, and noise was something that wasn't good for someone in Stiles' line of work... as soon as he got downstairs he walked over to the counter and grabbed some grapes, washing them off and starting to nibble on them, he just needed to think, he needed the perfect climactic moment... but what? He went to sit down at the kitchen table, sighing deeply and leaning back as he glanced out the window, he was more staring into space than anything but as he glanced out, he noticed something; a truck in Derek's driveway... a very familiar looking truck at that... Stiles narrowed his eyes, getting up suddenly and running back upstairs, he didn't want to be sloppy, but he knew that his chances were going to be sorely limited....
~+~
The gun was heavy in her hands as she slinked around the other corner, peering into the bedroom and sighing in dissatisfaction, "Where is he?" Kate grumbled, his car was in the driveway.... where was he...? "Looking for someone?" she turned on her heel, gun aimed, and lowered it slowly when she saw the human kid from a few days ago staring back at her, "Oh... it's you, you wouldn't happen to know where Derek is would you?" she asked with a pout, hoping that her charms would work on the younger man, "Oh you mean Derek Hale right? Yeah he isn't here," he replied, walking forward slowly, Kate narrowed her eyes, something seemed off about this kid... "Where is he? His car is here," she pointed out, "He's at my house where he'll be safe," Kate grinned, chuckling and raising her gun, "I don't know who you are kid.... but you've stepped into the wrong arena," the guy cocked his head, eyebrows raised as he pulled his hands from around his back, "You think so?" he asked, snapping the pair of black latex gloves he was wearing, "See I think, you made a grave mistake by stepping into Derek's life... Kate Argent," she jerked slightly, did Derek tell him about her? He didn't really seem like the type.... "How-" "I mean burning down his house was bad enough- really in poor taste by the way- but to come back years later and try to finish the job?" he hissed, making a pained expression, "That's where you really went wrong, I mean it could have taken me... months... YEARS... to find out about you- to FIND you- before... but now this? This is just shooting fish in a glass bowl, one really big fish," he said, Kate narrowed her eyes, snarling slightly, "I've heard enough," she growled, raising the gun and firing, only to watch in shock as the bullet stopped in mid-air, "You're...-" "That's right," he said with a smirk as the bullet turned abruptly and shot into her leg, making her scream as she fell to the ground on one knee, "I'll see you when you wake up Katie," he smiled, holding a cloth out and putting it over her mouth and nose, as Kate screamed, she could feel herself starting to lose consciousness, and before long, she was out
~+~
When she woke up everything was dark, not just dark the way a bedroom is late at night, but isolatingly, pitch black dark, like being shut inside a closet in the middle of the night, she gasped a few breaths, moving her legs and feeling herself start to break into a cold sweat when she barely moved her feet and hit against a wall, she bit her lip and moved her arms, also hitting walls, shakingly, she reached up, placing a hand above her and feeling a roof- a lid... "SOMEONE HELP ME!!" Kate screamed as she kicked at the coffin walls, "Ohh, 'help me help me' like anyone will REALLY hear you," she heard, looking up despite knowing that she would see nothing, "I can't believe you would think I'm THAT stupid," she listened... it was that .. that KID from earlier... that SPARK... she cursed, "I'm ASHAMED of you, really, thinking I would just leave you in a box in a graveyard somewhere? Please!" he huffed, Kate set her hands down, feeling around the box, trying to find something, anything, a hole- no matter how small- or a place in the wood that was weaker than the last... anything... "You know I pondered around for an awfully long time on how to kill you, I wanted to make it FITTING, it's times like these that I really wish I was more of a torture fanatic because, Miss Argent, I'd LOVE to torture you... but I'm already being sloppy as it is and I'd much rather just kill you and get it over with than torture you- when you're going to die anyway- and end up getting caught for it, you see that's just not in my best interest," he prattled on as Kate searched, pausing when she felt something near her fingertips, her heart skipped a beat, could it... could it be...? She started wiggling, squirming, trying to reach lower to pick up the mystery object, "SO anyway, I was trying to think of the best method to kill you, and at first I thought maybe drowning, did you know drowning is supposed to be the most painfull death there is?" she cursed, fingertips scraping the object, "That... feeling... the helplessness... the STRUGGLE... the complete and UTTER lack of control, not even being able to BREATHE because your lungs just fill with water, for someone who took someone else's control away from them the way you did that would have been nice right? And plus drowning is often seen as cleansing, purifying, a.... how should I put this? A ... I know this is the wrong word, of all times to need a thesarus right? A metaphor for baptism, and now what could be more fitting than that? An unholy thing such as yourself being cleansed, purified, baptized if you will, it'd be so poetic... but then I really thought about that and you know what?" her fingers scraped the object again and again, finally managing to start sliding it towards her, "Drowning is MESSY, first you have to find the right body of water and THEN I'd have to go about waking you up and devising a proper plan to get you in the water and STAYING in the water and- really, you don't deserve to be cleansed anyway, so I thought 'back to the drawing board' and then I came up with SNAKES!" she panted, finally getting a grasp on it and bringing it to her chest, "Snakes are seen as a figure of evil, as a mark of TEMPTATION and even often veiwed as seducers, a symbol of tainted sexual interest- of sexual MANIPULATION by some and well... come on Katie, let's be honest here, Derek may not have TOLD me what you did... but I can see it, I can see it in every bone in his body, every time I move to touch him, every time he sees something .. reminiscent, triggering, I can SEE what you did to him written like words into his flesh... you scarred him, and what better way to scar you? A sinner with a sinner? A bitemark that won't fade... BUT I am a lover of animals and I hate the idea of using an animal just to kill someone, that's in poor taste don't you agree?" she turned the item over a few times in her hands, finally realizing what it was... matches.... it was matches! She had heard of cocky killers like this boy before, hell he had probably gotten all of this from some stupid comic book villain anyway! Killers who buried their victums alive with matches or flashlights so they could see in the dark, watch the dirt fall onto the pine box they'd call their tombs, they were cocky and that little bit of light always did them in because if Kate could find a CRACK or a weak spot she could kick it in... that's all she'd need.... "And so then I thought... ahh.... buried alive, what a perfect idea, it's clean, it's DEFINITELY torture, and it'd give you time to reflect on what you did, besides anyone as emotionless and cold as you has to practically be a corpse yourself right?" she opened the matchbook, fingers skimming as she broke a match out of it, "But then I thought better of that too, and I found it, the method to end all methods," she struck the match, "I'm going to burn you alive," as the match lit she could finally see.. and her heart skipped a beat at his words, looking down, she could see wet spots on the wood... where sparks from her match were landing... and before she could blow it out, the fire had already begun and she started to scream, the flames licking her clothes and starting to burn past them, "I mean how PERFECT is that? You burned someone's life away Katie.... now why shouldn't I burn away YOUR life? It's perfect, ashes to ashes, all that jazz," he laughed, watching as the coffin went up in flames, "I always liked fire you know, I mean acid... I prefer acid... but fire does the job too, it's THOROUGH, this storage facility doesn't belong to me so even if someone is suspicious of the burn marks it won't get traced back to me, and I'll spread your ashes over the river so there'll be no trace there and anything lasting, any... remnants... of clothes or bone or whatever I'll just put that in some acid and poof, it's gone," he hummed, snapping his fingers and grabbing the fire extinguisher as the flames started to move, "I almost forgot, can't let this fire get too out of hand now can we? Ah what do you care? You're already dead.... goodbye, Kate Argent,"
~+~
Stiles ran his hands down his face as he walked into the house, the sun was already rising and he was exhausted, he hoped he could tape a note to his door explaining that he had been up working all night and to have breakfast without him, atleast his clothes weren't bloody or anything so he didn't have to worry about the usual disposal, and a little magic once over never hurt either, Stiles really hated using his magic in correlation with his .. *ahem* ... vigilante streak, he didn't want hunters to get any wiff that someone other than a human was doing this because then they'd start looking for Sparks and witches and probably druids too, he didn't want to give them any more ammo than they already had to start hurting his kind, but every now and then a little magic clean up didn't hurt, he opened the door to the house, rubbing his eyes and cringing when he heard the dogs starting to bark, atleast now he would be able to relax if Derek wanted to go back home, so far neither of them had mentioned it but Stiles figured it was only a matter of time, "Hey baby girls, Daddy is home, did you miss me?" he cooed to Rizzoli and Isles as he picked up the cats and cuddled them, "I wasn't gone that long," he chuckled, kissing the cats and putting them down, "I disagree," he heard, turning and feeling his heart skip a beat as he stared at Derek, who was leaning casually by the stairs, "H-Hey Derek... morning...." "You left at three A.M. and it's almost eight," he pointed out, "...I .. had some errands to run, I'm sorry, writer stuff," he said, swallowing and biting his lip, he really had hoped Derek would sleep in, today was his day off, he didn't NEED to be up... "I know you went after Kate, Stiles," he said, making Stiles flinch internally, "I don't know what-" "Stop, I saw you leave earlier and when I looked out the window I saw her car, I started to run after you but by the time I got out of the house you were already loading her in- completely unconscious and BLEEDING, might I add, at that point I started connecting the dots," Stiles licked his lips and nodded, "Well now that the werewolf's out of the bag..." he mused, Derek twitched, eyes widening as his jaw tightened, "Derek... dude... don't worry, I'm a Spark ok? And even if I wasn't, I mean, BEFORE I knew what I was... my buddy Scott is a werewolf, I'm cool with the supernatural stuff, TOTALLY on your side here," he said softly, taking a few steps forward, "Why Kate? Is it all hunters?" he finally asked, "No, I don't go after anyone without a good reason, I'm not a COLD-BLOODED murderer Derek, I HAVE my reasons, Kate went WAY over the line, she isn't a HUNTER, she's just a KILLER, she .... did things, to you and your family that I don't think I really need to repeat here, I didn't go after her for being a hunter, I went after her for being a murderer.... among other things," Derek looked down, fidgeting slightly, "I never meant to involve you in this," Stiles added after a moment, "I real-" "Stiles," Derek interrupted, looking up at him, "I.. it's alright, it's ok... I just... you have your reasons, I get that, Kate was.... we both know what Kate was... do you only go after the hunters who have.. gone off the tracks?" Stiles shook his head, yawning and leaning on the banister, "Sorry, sorry... I've had a really long night... um, no, I go after people who aren't in the loop too, but I'm carefull, just the unforgivable ones, you know, murderers, rapists, abusers... I check my facts, make sure they didn't do whatever it was in self-defense or they weren't wrongly convicted, I even try to avoid the first-time offenders because you never know, there's always a bigger chance they're innocent and were sent to jail wrongly than someone who's been in there like... thirty times you know?" Derek nodded slowly, taking a slow, deep breath, "And just so you know, I'd never hurt an innocent person Derek, the people I go after are all... hopeless, they're way past any kind of salvation... I'm saving people, from the ones that the law can't handle," "You'd never go after an innocent person? Not even if they turned you in?" "Nope, I'd find a way to discredit them but I wouldn't hurt them," he shook his head, "I don't... I'm not going to BECOME the monsters I hunt Derek..." "So if I walk out the door right now and call the cops... you'll let me?" he asked, Stiles licked his lips again, taking a shakey breath, he didn't want that, he didn't want Derek to turn him in... he didn't want Derek to think so badly of him that he felt COMPELLED to turn him in... "Yeah, yeah I'd let you," he said honestly, knowing that Derek could pick up on his steady heart beat, Derek nodded slowly, turning around, "Ok," he said simply, walking back up the stairs, Stiles raised his eyebrows, watching him in amazement, "O-O... Ok? Ok?" he asked in confusion, "Yeah, ok, I've been up since three in the morning so I'm going to sleep a little more, is that alright?" "Y-Yeah! Yeah ofcourse, hey, I mean that's what I'm about to go do actually," he replied, leaping up the stairs after Derek, the werewolf smiled weakly as he walked, stealing a glance at Stiles here and there, "So... the people on your list..... how bad are they?" "Really, really bad... like... not just one incidental crime sorta bad but like 'life in prison is too short' kinda bad, you know? They get off on technicalities like not being read their Miranda rights or the evidence having been touched by a dirty cop eight years ago or whatever, or they keep taking plea deals for really small sentences, or they happen to be buddies with politicians and cops or maybe it's one of those times when the cops don't take the victums seriously... whatever, holes in the system you know? But trust me, I research extensively, I know what I'm doing and who I'm going after," he promised, Derek nodded slowly, glancing at him again as they reached the stairs, "Then I... guess I'll see you in the afternoon," he said awkwardly, "Actually... my room has darker curtains... better for sleeping in the day- since I work late ALL the time and usually have to be a vampire about it you know? You could... if you want.... nothing too intimate just-" "Stiles," he interrupted, the Spark shut his mouth, watching him, "I.... thanks," he smiled softly, following Stiles to his room, the Spark just chuckled, opening the door, "Nothing to thank me for,"
Six months later....
"I CANNOT believe they just did that!" Stiles huffed, rolling over and pouting up at Derek, "Derek... they killed my baby..." he wimpered, "The show is about a zombie apocolypse Stiles, how are you expecting any different? And shouldn't you be working?" the werewolf chuckled back, "I can work later, I have to have something to keep my brain from getting all dried up so I can think propperly and I'll have you know that TV is it," he hummed back, leaning up and pressing a kiss behind Derek's ear, "I see," he snorted, rolling over and wrapping Stiles in his arms, "I thought I was your source of inspiration," "Artists can have MANY sources of inspiration Derek," Stiles grinned back, "I see," Derek grinned, rubbing his eyes and sighing slightly, "I just know the clinic is going to be overrun with kids tommorrow, I hate flu season," he grumbled, "Then don't be a pediatrition," Stiles teased, "Well with that logic you hate writer's block so quit being a writer," he pointed out, "Mmm ... point taken," Stiles nodded, kissing him again, "You sure are affectionate, is everything ok?" Derek asked worriedly, "Trust me big guy I'm just thinking about how lucky I am to have you," he smiled honestly, Derek noted this and decided to join in, leaning down to kiss him again, this was partly true, Stiles WAS thinking about how lucky he felt to have Derek with him, how happy he was, how he hadn't felt that urge beneath his skin to go out on a "job" in months because of Derek, but that was only about half of what he was thinking about, the other half was about some letter he had gotten earlier from a hunter who he assumed to be related to Kate, it was a threat, mostly, the usual, and signed "Victoria Argent", "Well Miss Argent," Stiles mused to himself as Derek left to refill his water glass, "I think you've stepped into the wrong Spark's territory," he smirked, looking at his laptop and minimizing the window on dismemberment, just in case Derek should come around the other way from the bathroom and see it
Above all else, the detective decided as he polished his gun, there was another reason he continued to play this cat and mouse game, and that reason was sitting right next to him, nuzzling into his shoulder, oblivious to the wrongs in the world, and that was just how it should be
The End