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Jack isn't a big fan of blood. He finds no use in shooting down his victims, or maiming them until they are beaten to a bloody pulp.
A rag soaked in chloroform is all he needs to sedate his... meals, and drag them into a nearby alley where the real work comes into play.
The man (Jack knows nothing about him, he was just in the wrong place at the right time, smelling like loneliness) falls to the ground easily, and Jack makes sure they are both shrouded in the shadow of a dumpster before getting to work.
The man's shirt comes off first, and Jack sets it aside for later. He extends a single finger and drags it over the left pectoral of the unconscious man. Blood starts bubbling up immediately, the magic touch searing the skin and tearing it open. He makes the cut long enough that he can pull each side open, pushing apart muscle and blood as his hands dip further into the man's body. The body is twitching, but Jack knows the man will never wake again.
He has to break a couple ribs in the process, but it's not a moment later that he can spy the heart, a red and purple muscle pulsing erratically, trying to stay in-tune to the beatings happening in the body elsewhere. The easiest part of his job comes next, as it is the most natural to him. He reaches his fingers around the dying man's heart and rips it clean out of his chest.
There is a pouch on his side, attached to his belt, and Jack flips the button open and slides the still organ into it before securing it, closing the pouch's flap.
The blood on Jack's hands is gone, evaporated into his skin.
Jack carefully places both of the broken ribs back where they should be, and then folds the ripped muscle into place, a mockery of the chest as it once was.
Now comes the fun part. Jack reaches with his right hand over to his left arm where pristine clean red ribbon is wrapped around, and unwinds a strip of it. From the belt across his chest that holds his shoulder armor in place, the only piece of his outerwear that is stained with blood, he reaches for one of the needles stabbed into the leather there, taking it out with gentle fingers. He threads the needle with the red ribbon expertly, and then begins to sew.
The action of stitching the man's chest closed is therapeutic, for Jack. The calm motion of the needle and ribbon going in and out of skin and muscle, to close the wound he created. Jack never knows how long it takes, too invested in making the stitches just right. Perfect. He snips the red ribbon with silver scissors, also attached to his belt.
When he finishes, the body is covered in blood, blood that Jack easily collects onto his fingers and runs through his hair, collecting it all throughout his dyed red strands until they are practically dripping.
The man's skin is clean of blood, and the only irregularity is the stitch of ribbon running a straight line up the left of the man's chest.
Shrugging the limp body into the discarded t-shirt, Jack lifts him into his arms, and drags him back to the mouth of the alley, where in a few hours, there would be enough people passing by to see the body and call for help. Jack wasn't a monster, he wanted the man to have a proper funeral, whoever he was.
With the last bit of nightfall to cover him, Jack hurries off, leaving the man to the graces of his town.
Looking up at the almost new moon, Jack grins, mouth salivating for the next night's feast of five fresh human hearts.
*
Stiles jumped in his seat when a file folder slammed down onto his desk in front of him. He looked up, startled, at his father. Sheriff Stilinski wore a resigned face, bags heavy under his eyes. "Alright," the man sighed out, "Your turn."
Stiles blinked, eyes sweeping over the file folder, and then back up to his father. "My turn to do what?"
His father waved a hand in the file's direction, while the other hand rubbed at his face. "That's the case file for the newest string of murders. Five deaths, and we still have no leads, no connections, nothing. There's been no activity for almost two weeks. Maybe your more, uh, nose inclined friends can sniff out some clues, eh?"
Stiles' face split into a huge grin. "Finally! I told you after the third one you should have brought in Scott. Or at least Derek, whom you seem to be all buddy-buddy with recently."
His father rolled his eyes. "Look, I'm going to bed. Just bring it up tonight at your full moon meeting."
"I will. Thanks dad!" Stiles shouted after his father as the older man sluggishly dragged his feet towards his own bedroom. Stiles gripped the file between both of his hands, a victorious feeling washing over him. Getting information on the serial killer had been like pulling teeth with his dad over the past four weeks, but now he finally had his in.
He had been working on homework, but that was immediately pushed aside in favor of flipping open the file and taking in the preliminary information. Five victims, all varying ages from 20s to 50s. None of them had any connection with another, except for the second and fifth victims had been in the same graduating class. Both of their families told the police, however, that there was no correspondence between the two that they knew of, so that was probably just coincidence.
Ever since it hit the news (and even earlier for Stiles, because of his father) of the details of the state the bodies were left in, Stiles has been invested. No blood, not even a trace amount, was left on the outside of the body. And it wasn't wiped clean, either, later findings showed. Which was practically impossible, considering the heart was torn out of the chest cavity.
The first victim had been found lying on a park bench by a couple jogging. At first, it had appeared that the woman was passed out, because there were no outward signs of blood or trauma. It wasn't until one of the joggers leaned close to check her pulse, they found her skin cold, and pulse nonexistent.
They called 911, assuming she had a heart attack, but when the ambulance arrived to see if they could revive her, and EMT noticed that something was slightly off about her chest, and the first chest compression proved his thoughts correct: her ribs were broken over her heart.
The heart thing, Stiles understood. Assuming that this was a supernatural creature, lots of things were known to use hearts as a source of magic or, Stiles swallowed thickly at the thought, a food source. But it was the gentle way the bodies were handled and literally sewn back together that really piqued his interest. What was the point? And why a red string?
*
Stiles' head was still swimming with questions later that evening when the whole pack was gathered in Derek's loft. He relayed an overview of everything that he had learned from the file as it was passed around the group.
"So, you're thinking it's supernatural?" Kira asked, more of a statement than an actual question.
"I'll look through the bestiary and see if anything looks similar," Lydia promised, passing the folder over to her left where Derek sat. The man took the file and opened it up, being wary to avoid any pictures of the victims and reading the family statements instead.
"And I'll email Argent-- see if he knows anything the bestiary wouldn't," Scott added, phone already in hand to type out a message.
"Any connections?" Derek's voice startled Stiles slightly. Stiles looked up at the werewolf who was staring at him inquisitively.
"Uh, n-nothing that the police found that was useful or gathered any traction. But I'll find something." If there was one thing Stiles was good at finding, it was similarities.
Derek nodded, like he believed Stiles would come though on his word, and passed the file over to Liam who cringed just from touching the manila folder.
Stiles shouldn't feel too surprised. He was confident in his own skills to finish his own assigned task, but Derek always seemed to surprise him by how much trust he had now a days.
"Is there anything else we could figure out tonight?" Scott asked, eyes sweeping over the group. When no one came up with an idea, he nodded and continued, saying, "Alright. I think it's time for a run."
Stiles definitely saw that flash of a happy smile that twitched at Derek's lips. Each of the supernatural creatures, sans Lydia, of course, stood then and made their way towards the door. As a pack, everyone ran together on full moons, to be able to expel some extra energy. It was also a way to keep an eye on each other, in case one of them was having a harder month than usual. Stiles and Lydia usually hung back at the loft to wait until the others got back.
Since there was an actual threat to be worried about, Stiles told them all to, "Be careful. And look out for anything suspicious. It could be a big night for this creature, too."
As soon as they left, Lydia opened up her tablet and started looking through the bestiary, getting a head start. Stiles decided to look through some of Derek's books, see if he could find anything in there as well.
It didn't take long, only an hour or so, before Lydia snapped her fingers, gathering Stiles' attention. "I think I found it," she said. ""Red Jack, also known as Jack of Hearts. A fae creature drawn to heartache and pain. Related distantly to red caps, they use fresh blood to dye their hair. They hunt the lonely wearing a pleasing face, luring them with sweet words and honey promises. When he gets them alone, he steals their heart, leaving them as empty shells. He sews their chest with a blood red ribbon, cutting with silver scissors. He hoards their heart till the new moon, then feasts upon them-- gorging and using their blood to dye his hair. The victims die, and none are the wiser.""
Stiles did his best to take in as much information as possible. "The new moon... that was a couple weeks ago, yeah? That's when the last murder was. Five murders in two weeks..."
"If this Jack of Hearts hunts two weeks before the new moon... There's going to be another body soon," Lydia realized, eyes scanning the tablet's screen.
"Is that all it says about them?" Stiles inquired. Now that they knew what they were called, maybe he could find some more information on the creature in one of the old Hale books.
"That's all it says," Lydia confirmed.
"If Jacky starts their hunt on the full moon--"
Before Stiles could even finish his sentence, Lydia froze before her jaw dropped and she let out a scream so loud that Stiles almost missed the loud howl from outside the building.
Stiles helped Lydia as her body slumped, her voice quieting as the scream ended, and had her lay down on the couch. Then he ran to the large window and looked out to see the street below. It only took a few seconds before he spotted the rest of the pack running full-speed towards the loft.
A moment later, Derek burst in, quickly followed by Scott who sputtered, "There's another body. And we saw-- it."
Stiles' eyes widened. "'It'? You saw The Jack of Hearts?!"
"More importantly," Derek growled, ushering the rest of the pack fully into the left before closing the heavy metal door, "It saw us."
"Shiiiiit," Stiles groaned.
"It's called the Jack of Hearts?" Liam asked.
Stiles nodded, "Yeah, Lydia figured it out just a bit ago. It has a small mention in the bestiary, but not much else other than identifying factors."
Liam and Kira had moved over to Lydia and were helping her sit up, and Kira asked gently, "Did you sense anything?"
Lydia nodded slowly. "I think. More like... a sense of doom."
Stiles scoffed. "That's new."
Derek shot him a glare, to which Stiles just grinned broadly in response to.
"I mean," Lydia stressed, and Stiles quieted, "that things have... potential to get worse. From what we've figured so far, Jack feeds off of these hearts on the new moon. But this isn't to increase their power. But... if it got hold of a supernatural heart..."
Lydia didn't have to say anything more for the message of 'not good' to be conveyed.
"No one is alone, alright?" Scott demanded after a moment. "We all should be with someone else at all times, or in a public place. All of these incidents happened at night, right? So we stick together until this thing is taken care of."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
"Anything in particular we should stay away from?" Liam asked.
Lydia arched an eyebrow. "Heartache and loneliness."
Stiles tried his best not to be to obvious when he snuck a glance at Derek, heart stumbling over a beat. "Well!" he said loudly, to cover up his internal panic. "I better go call my dad, tell him about the new murder. Scott, wanna fill me in on the details?"
As Stiles dragged Scott into the kitchen to call the Sheriff and relay information, he couldn't help but sneak a look over at Derek and wonder.
*
The next day, Stiles started to come up with a plan he lovingly called 'Keep Derek Out of the Lonely Hearts Club Band'.
Scott didn't seem as concerned as he should be when Stiles brought up KDOotLHCB to him the next day at school.
"He knows not to go out alone, Stiles. He's smart, he won't put himself in danger. And he's not as lonely as he used to be."
Stiles flailed his arms. "Still! Even you've noticed he still has that slump in his shoulders. Plus, the fact that he has a high track record of seducing and being seduced by really bad people! This is just a bad combination! Jack is basically an incubus, without the sex."
"So what do you suggest?" Scott finally gave in. "Are you going to spend every waking hour with him, just in case?"
Stiles scoffed. "Don't be dumb, Scott, Derek can't stand me for more than an hour, let alone day after day. No. I'm going to find him someone he can stand. That isn't evil!"
Scott gave him a flat look. "You are going to be Derek's matchmaker so he doesn't potentially lose his heart to Jack."
Stiles bopped him on the nose. "Precisely."
Scott chewed at his overly-artificial pizza slice for a few moments, obviously thinking something over, before saying, "You know, spending time around Derek wouldn't be such a bad idea for you. I don't think he'd mind half as much as you assume."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Sure, Scotty-boy. That's why he tenses up every time I open my mouth."
"Yeah," Scott said, as if that was a valid point.
"Yeah," Stiles repeated, confused. "Look, you gonna back me up or what?"
Scott smiled. "Of course, buddy. Gotta get my man his man."
"Or woman," Stiles corrected. "Pretty sure Derek is equal opportunity."
Scott rolled his eyes, as if Stiles had missed the entire point of the conversation.
*
Step one of his plan included meeting Derek out in a public place and discussing likes and dislikes. Stiles was going to try his best and be subtle about it, because he was 98% sure Derek wouldn't be happy about Stiles' reasoning behind the probing questions.
Right on time, Derek settled into the seat across from Stiles, and pulled his coffee towards himself.
"Derek!" Stiles greeted. "Good to see you. I hope you like your coffee."
Derek took a sip of it, hesitantly, before shrugging and taking a second. Stiles counted that as a win.
"Why did you want to meet here. And why are we alone?"
"Because, Derek, my sourwolfy, I want to get to know you."
Derek froze a little at that. "You what?"
Stiles shrugged and leaned back in his seat. "I just. I want to get to know you, one-on-one. We don't spend enough time together, and I want to know more about you. What you like, what you don't, what people annoy you, how to win your heart. The usual questions."
If Stiles didn't know Derek, he would say the older man was blushing. But Derek never blushes, so it must be the cold air blowing from the vent above them causing the rosy hue to appear on his cheeks.
Derek cleared his throat, taking another sip of coffee, before responding. "I-- I think I'd be willing to tell you."
Stiles beamed, and Derek's expression softened to something almost fond looking. "Awesome."
*
Stiles made a mental list in his head.
Likes:
- Baseball
- Corner booths at restaurants
- Loyalty
- Smarts
- Rainstorms
- Butter cream icing
- Polaroid cameras
- Hand-written letters
Dislikes:
- Liars
- Fireplaces
- Small talk
- Rollercoasters
- Bigots
- Dandelions
- Strong perfume/cologne
It wasn't a very hard list to remember. Stiles had a lot of the same items on his personal list.
*
"So how did your date with Derek go?" Scott asked as the pair ambled down the steps of the school the following school day.
"Not a date," Stiles reminded him for the seventh time. "But it went awesome. I have a good list compiled of things he'd like in a person and things he wouldn't. All I have to do now is find the person that matches up."
"And he knows? That you're trying to set him up?" Scott probed.
"Well, yeah. I think. I mean, I mentioned it, you know, getting to know him in a potential date way. And he offered up information pretty willingly, so he's not against the idea."
Scott gave him a look as he hummed, and it unnerved Stiles to not know what it meant. "Shouldn't be difficult. To find his match."
Stiles scoffed. "We'll see. Maybe fate will drop the perfect person from the sky."
Scott scowled and hissed, "Don't say that. With the way things go in this town, people are going to be dropping from the sky."
"Shit, you're right," Stiles agreed, chuckling. A chirp from his phone diverted his attention, and Stiles looked down to see a text from his dad.
FROM: PAPA SHERIFF
Can u pik up ccakes from the bakery n drop it off at station? 4 deputy ps b-day.
Stiles sighed at his father's text speak, but sent him an affirmative. "I gotta go, bro. Dad needs me to pick up something from the bakery and take it to him. Guess it's someone's birthday."
Scott shrugged. "Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. Be careful, alright? I know it's a short drive, but I still don't like you going it alone."
"I will be, promise. Plus, it's daylight, and the thing killed last night. Again. I don't think it's looking for another heart-y meal so soon."
Scott rolled his eyes at the pun. "True. Still, be careful. See if your dad has any new leads, and text me if he does." Scott then looked towards the school doors where Kira was skipping down the steps, making her way towards them. His smile went dopy.
Stiles patted Scott on the shoulder. "Will do, Scotty. Later."
It really was just a short five minute drive from the high school to the bakery where Stiles was quickly sucked into the mass of customers in the afternoon rush. At some point, money was passed over and a box was shoved into his hands, and then he was back on the sidewalk outside, dodging parents with their kids. It was another short drive until he arrived at the station.
He declared, "It's someone's birthday!" as he threw open the door with a hand, the other balancing the box. Stiles caught a blush sprout up on Deputy Parrish's cheeks, and he grinned, heading for him. "Cupcakes for the birthday boy!"
"Stiles..." his father sighed as he walked out of his office, rubbing his forehead. "Must you disturb everyone in the station?"
"Of course!" Stiles stated with a grin. He turned towards Parrish and opened the box after settling it down on the man's desk. "Take your pick, Deputy."
Parrish licked his lips as his eyes scanned the dozen cupcakes and finally settled on picking up a vanilla cake one topped with creamy icing. Taking a small bite, the man groaned at the taste. "Butter cream frosting, my favorite. Thanks Sheriff!"
Stiles' father gave him a nod, inching closer, but backed back into his office, mollified by Stiles' glare. Since his father was banned from having a tasty treat, Stiles swiped one for himself, taking a nice-sized bite and making an equally embarrassing noise as Parrish had.
"These are amazing! You're lucky. This-- this is butter cream?"
Parrish grinned, licking icing off of his fingers. "Mhmm. The best, in my opinion."
Huh. Stiles' grinned at the deputy and turned to leave, the fake smile falling off his face as he started to think.
*
The last new moon had been a feast fit for a king, and Jack is looking forward to one equally as plentiful the next moon. This time, maybe with even an extra boost.
So far he's only collected two hearts for the new moon in a week, but Jack isn't worried. If he can acquire the heart of one of the beasts who almost ruined his last hunt, he won't need to kill for an entire month, maybe two.
And Jack really isn't a fan of killing, he isn't. The blood is messy, there is a lot of effort put into hiding, and the victims always try to fight back. But the taste of heartache is so wonderful, so Jack considers it worth it.
And Beacon Hills has a lot of heartache. So many sad people. It's as if someone had crafted this town just for his needs. And Jack plans to steal as many hearts as he can.
People get dumb when they are sad and vulnerable.
*
"Stiles, it's going to rain," Derek grumbled, but continued to follow Stiles as he lead Derek out onto the terrace outside of the older man's loft.
"Can you smell it?" Stiles teased. "How long before you start barking?"
Derek shot him a glare, but Stiles just laughed. "Chill. We'll go back inside before it starts to storm too much. I just know this is an amazing spot to watch rain and lightning."
Derek eyed the outside chairs and table dubiously, but settled into one easily enough. "You happy?"
"Are you happy?" Stiles threw back to him. At Derek's confused look, Stiles continued. "This is something you said you liked, right? Watching storms? I'm still trying to get a good feel for date ideas."
Derek gave Stiles a look that the younger man couldn't comprehend, but Derek looked soft, almost vulnerable. "A... date?"
Stiles shrugged, suddenly nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea. "Yeah. Is this a bad date idea?" He didn't want to be getting all the wrong vibes from Derek. If he was to find Derek his perfect someone, he wanted to let that someone know exactly what Derek liked, personality wise and also time spent together.
Derek smiled, and it kind of took the breath out of Stiles' lungs. That only seemed to increase Derek's happiness, because his smile widened. "This is a great date idea, Stiles," he said sincerely.
Stiles nodded quickly, doing his best to come back from that shock of a moment. Derek's smile, holy Jesus. "Awesome, alright. Oh look, rainfall, let's pay attention to that and not me. Ha. Ha."
Derek chuckled, but did turn his head towards the sky where a roll of thunder echoed over the hills, and the clouds lit up with a far-off strike of lightning.
They sat there for almost an hour until the wind picked up, and even in a roof-covered area, the pair was getting soaked. They moved themselves back into the loft where they continued to watch the storm through the large window while perched on Derek's bed, towels thrown over both of their shoulders.
At some point, pizza was ordered, and they both changed into dry clothes (Stiles borrowing some from Derek) before moving to the couch to watch some Netflix. It was already planned that Stiles would spend the night at Derek's, since his father was working the night shift. Derek threw his arm over the back of the couch, fingers dusting Stiles' shoulder. Stiles leaned into the touch easily.
The realization hit Stiles between episodes two and three of Daredevil that he'd just practically had a date with Derek and loved it. And not just the activity, but spending time with Derek was awesome. There wasn't as much conversation as there had been the last time the two of them had talked one-on-one, but it was just as easy to sit and relax, and just be with Derek.
But it wasn't a date. This was a pseudo-date, something to see if Derek would enjoy it. Incorporating his likes with activities. To Derek, this was helping Stiles come up with future date ideas.
Stiles fell asleep not long after his realization and woke up with his head against Derek's chest. His phone told him it was just after three, lighting up with a text from his father saying that his shift was over and he was heading home.
Looking up at a sleeping Derek, Stiles felt his heart constrict in his chest.
Stiles slowly moved off of Derek and curled up on the other side of the couch before falling into a restless sleep.
*
It was four days until the new moon, and so far there had only been the two deaths. In their research, the pack had come across some findings that stated that the minimum number of hearts usually stolen in one cycle was two. So either Jack was taking a slow month... or he was holding out for a stronger heart.
Either way, they still had yet to find it, so everyone was tense.
Stiles was currently camped out on the floor of his father's office, each of the seven murder files spread out in front of him. Since there was no reasoning behind chosing the victims based on looks, just loneliness, Stiles was looking into the last factor: location.
Each of the attacks took place between 1am and 4am, the darkest time of the day. But there had to be similar places. Jack couldn't just murder someone in a parking lot. Though it tracked people by emotion, it wouldn't be dumb enough to get caught on any security footage.
"Ahah!" Stiles cheered, reaching for a pen and jotting down the addresses of each of the killings.
The sheriff looked up from his desk where he was slaving over paperwork. "Ahah? What? Did you find something?"
"The location. They didn't all happen at the same place or time, but they did all happen within the same fourteen blocks! These places are mostly bars or shops closed in the evening. Where else to find people shrouded in misery than alone at a bar! And the first woman, found on the park bench? That park is two streets across from the alley the fifth victim was killed in."
"So you're saying this... Jack, starts out sniffing around the bars-"
"Well, he doesn't really sniff, it's more of a taste thing-"
"-Tasting, then. By bars. And then finds people in secluded areas and what, chats them up to see if they are depressed?"
"Maybe!" Stiles huffed. "But it's a good place to start looking for a scent trail, at least."
Stiles only spent another half hour jotting down extra notes before he called it a night and told his father he'll be waiting out front whenever he was finished.
Passing the desks to head to the front, Stiles spotted Parrish doing some paperwork of his own, but saw that he had a radio playing lowly. As Stiles approached, he could catch the sounds of sports reporters speaking quickly.
"Baseball?" Stiles asked aloud, and Parrish looked up at him, surprised, but then smiled.
"Yeah! I do my best to keep up with the games, but it's hard when I work all hours. So I brought this radio for the slow times of the day so I can listen then."
Abruptly, Stiles said, "Parrish, would you like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night?"
The deputy got an alarmed look on his face, mouth forming mute words, and Stiles backtracked. "I mean," he rushed to say, "I have a friend who you should meet. He's really awesome. I'm having dinner with him tomorrow night, and I think you should join us. I... think you'd get along really well."
Parrish's face relaxed, and he looked relieved. "Oh. Yeah, sure. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. You're just... young?"
Stiles waved it off. "It's cool, no propositions here." he chuckled awkwardly. A moment of silence passes before he claps and says, "Well! Cool! See you tomorrow night for dinner. To meet my friend. Okay."
Stiles fled before he could make even more of an embarrassment of himself in front of Derek's future forever partner.
Looking at the facts, Stiles realized as he took a seat near the front doors, Parrish and Derek were kind of perfect for each other. They were around the same age, so no issues there. They both liked baseball and butter cream icing, plus he knew Parrish was a kind and honest guy. His father gushed about him often. Plus, he was top of his class at the police academy, so there's the intelligence Derek wanted.
Stiles could feel his gut twisting the more he thought about Derek and Parrish- Jordan. Derek and Jordan. Of course, fate wouldn't let the subject drop yet, because he soon got a text from Derek.
FROM: HIS SOURWOLFNESS
We still on for dinner tomorrow night? I'll pick you up?
TO: HIS SOURWOLFNESS
My dad will drop me off, no need to get me, can't wait!
His stomach lurched again, and the image of Derek and Jordan at dinner laughing together left a bad taste in his mouth.
*
His father did drop him off at the semi-nice restaurant early, as he requested. Walking up to the hostess podium, he plastered on a fake smile. "Hi. Is it possible to get a corner booth for dinner tonight with my... two friends?"
The employee's similarly fake smile wavered. "I'm sorry, but we don't have any open right now."
"But when will one be available?" Stiles pushed. If he was going to be giving Derek away on this date tonight, then dammit he was going to put that man at his favorite table.
Speaking of... "Is there an issue here?" Stiles felt Derek's words as he stepped up behind Stiles. "Are there no tables available?"
The hostess' smile was really failing to look real now at the face of Derek's... everything. "I was just telling your friend here that there are no corner booths open. We do, however, have a booth against the back wall that is just as nice."
Stiles pouted, but Derek went right ahead and said, "That sounds perfect, lead the way."
Stiles turned his pout on Derek as the relieved hostess collected menus. "But you like corner booths. I wanted to sit where you're most comfortable."
Derek's small smile melted his insides. "That's nice of you, but really, Stiles. I promise this is just as good. Plus, you pissed off our lovely hostess."
Stiles sighed and nodded in agreement as he followed Derek to their table. Stiles checked his phone for the time. Parrish would be arriving any minute, which meant he didn't have much time to convince Derek to make this friend-outing into a date.
As soon as the hostess departed, Stiles opened his mouth to speak. "Look, I'm sorry to spring this on you with such short notice, but how would you feel about turning this dinner into a date?"
As if expecting this to be what Stiles was going to say, Derek smiled and nodded easily. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that. I know I'm not the most open person, Stiles, but I'm really glad you listened when I did speak."
Stiles' mouth went dry. "I. Of course. Derek, I always listen when you speak."
Derek opened his mouth to say something, but they were both interrupted by the arrival of Parrish who grinned down at Stiles.
"Hey, Stiles!" He turned to Derek. "I'm Jordan Parrish, it's good to meet you..?"
"Derek. Hale," Derek sputtered, confused.
Stiles stood from his seat and allowed Parrish to shuffle into the booth next to him before sitting back down.
"Awesome to meet you, Derek. Stiles told me he thought we'd get along well, so he invited me to dinner. I hope that's alright."
Derek 's face was turning blank and he turned his head slowly to stare at Stiles, eyes flashing with... hurt?
Parrish was grinning at Derek so easily, and it didn't take a detective to see he was interested in what Derek was giving out. So Stiles stood and waved his phone in the air. "Whoops, that's a text from Dad. Looks like I gotta go. You two enjoy dinner. I'll see you later."
"Stiles-" Derek's voice growled, but Stiles didn't let him finish.
"Bye Derek," he whispered before bolting out of the restaurant as fast as he could.
Stiles speed-walked down the street as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion. God, he was so stupid. How could he fall for Derek? When it was obvious the only reason Derek let him into his life was to find him someone who he could stand.
And now that he had, what gave Derek the right to look at Stiles with anger. He'd done his job! He'd saved Derek from loneliness and heartbreak, thus saving him for the Jack of Hearts. Problem solved, crisis averted. Now all supernatural creatures were safe from Jack's clutches.
Now the only one heartbroken was Stiles, and he only had himself to blame.
He could feel his phone buzzing in his pocket and without looking to see who it was, he turned it off. He wasn't in the mood to talk to Scott or anyone right now.
He was supposed to call his dad when he finished dinner to come pick him up, at least that's what he told him. Now, he figured he deserved a walk home. He needed time to dwell, to think.
Lost in his thoughts, he didn't even notice the crosswalk sign had turned back to red, and if it wasn't for someone else who was paying attention, Stiles would have been smushed into the pavement.
The person jerked Stiles back from the road by his arm as a car flew past, horn honking loudly, and that snapped Stiles out of his daze pretty quickly.
Stiles took a second, wide eyed, to breathe. Holy shit.
"Are you okay, sir?"
Stiles shook his head and looked up at the man next to him who was giving him a concerned look.
"I am now," Stiles breathed. "Thanks for that. If it wasn't for you paying more attention than me, I would be a bloody pancake right now."
The man chuckled and brushed some strands of red hair off of his forehead. "Good thing, too. I'm not a big fan of blood."
*
This isn't exactly the plan he had in mind, but Jack is flexible.
The new moon is just two nights away, but he knows someone in that creature pack has to care about this human boy enough to come rescue him.
And when they would, Jack will take both of their hearts!
"Penny for your thoughts," Jack had asked him on that sidewalk, and the boy had chuckled.
"Unrequited love, it seems. It's all my fault, of course. I'll probably get over it."
"You know what I've always found helps heartache?"
The boy tilted his head. "What?"
"A still heart."
Maybe the boy had an attack plan in place, but Jack was full of hunger and adrenaline, so it took little to no effort to knock out the boy and carry him away into the closest building. He'd purposefully left a blood trail for the creatures to follow. Hmm, maybe there will even be more than one. He can always go for an extra extra boost.
It doesn't take long for Jack to hear a growl shake the foundation of the empty store, and he grins as a blue-eyed wolf steps into the room, boots crunching over the remains of the boy's cell phone.
Jack slips his silver scissors out of his belt pouch and smirks.
*
"Stiles. Stiles, come on, wake up. Stiles!"
Stiles pried his eyes open and hissed at the pain the dull moonlight caused to his head. "Wha'?" he slurred, looking up at Scott.
"How do we kill it?! Stiles, how do we kill it, it's going to kill Derek!"
"Derek?" Stiles asked, eyes fluttering. "No Derek. Scissors."
"What?"
"Scissors."
Stiles squeezed his eyes shut and decided resting was a good idea.
There was no scream when Derek stabbed the Jack of Hearts, just the sound of the silver scissors diving deep into the chest of the creature to where a heat should have been, but wasn't. He could hear the growls of the pack as they watched the creature die, but he couldn't muster up the energy to open his eyes and see who all was there.
Seconds, maybe hours later, Stiles felt someone take his hand. "Stiles. Your dad is on his way. We're going to meet Melissa at the hospital."
Stiles nodded once at Lydia's words, then hissed at the pain. "Sleep," he mumbled.
"No," growled Derek, and oh. How long has it been?
"Sorry 'bout ruinin' ya' date," he breathed, and Derek huffed in response.
"You're an idiot," was what Derek said a moment later, and yeah, Stiles could agree.
"'N id'ot 'n love," Stiles replied before he passed out.
*
Waking up in the hospital was never fun. Waking up to your father glaring at you was also not fun. Both of them together was almost lethal.
"Can you maybe tone down the glare, I did almost die," he groaned, eyes scanning the minimalistic room.
"You turned your phone off, Stiles. Derek called me in a panic when he said he stopped trying to reach you after is said your number was no longer in service."
Stiles brow furrowed. "Derek? Why was Derek calling me?"
His father huffed. "That's for you and him to discuss. And also Deputy Parrish, for some reason. Though I'm not sure what he has to do with it, but apparently more than Derek knows."
Stiles couldn't think about that right now. "What's the injury report?"
His father sighed, but dropped the discussion as well. "Mild concussion. You didn't lose too much blood, but your body had gone in shock from the concussion and a broken arm," he gestured to Stiles' casted left arm. "That's probably why you passed out."
"And Jack is dead?"
"It's dead, Stiles. Lydia made sure of it. She's been helping me come up with a cover story for the murders to tell the press. You can help out later. For now you have to concentrate on healing. Melissa says you can leave tomorrow, but they're keeping you overnight for observation."
"You going back into the station?" Stiles asked already knowing the answer.
"You know I have to. I told the station I'd go in once you woke up. Scott's out in the waiting room. I'll send him in to keep you company."
"Thanks dad," Stiles said sincerely. "Love you."
"Love you too, kiddo," his father breathed, lightly ruffling his hair. "Get some rest. We'll talk more later."
A minute after his father left, Scott jogged into the room carrying a large teddy bear, beaming. Stiles laughed at him, but accepted the bear hug as Scott pressed the stuffed animal into his chest.
"That was scary, bro. Don't do that again, okay?"
Stiles nodded. "I'll do my best. How is everyone else"
"Basically unharmed. Jack got in a few good stabs before Derek was able to disarm him, but we wouldn't have been able to kill him if it wasn't for you doing the extra reading."
"Just doin' my job. Causing trouble and eventually fixing the mess."
Scott's smile faltered and fell. "Speaking of messes. You really did a number on Derek, dude. He's heartbroken."
Stiles' eyebrows shot up. "Him? He's heartbroken? I'm the one with the unrequited crush-like-love!"
Scott shook his head. "You can be so oblivious, Stiles. Derek is so into you. He thought you two were dating, man."
"He did?" Stiles' eyes widened. "And I left him on a date alone with some random dude, oh my god. How did-? But I didn't even know I wanted to date him until a few days ago!"
Scott scoffed. "Dude. Even I have seen you watching him for months now."
"Attraction is different than feelings, Scott," Stiles shot back quickly, but he could feel a blush staining his cheeks. "So... Derek knew I was into him, so when I started talking about dates... he assumed it was me trying to date him?"
Scott held up his hands. "Hey, I don't know the details, I just know what I've been able to piece together. All I know is that once you're all healed, you have a lot of groveling to do."
*
As soon as Stiles was back at home, taking a week off from classes, it didn't take long for him to decide how to approach Derek.
Since his hospitalization, Derek hadn't come to see him once. Even Liam had peeked his head in to talk for a few minutes the day he was discharged from the hospital. It only made Stiles more determined to win back Derek's trust.
The most difficult part for him was that he didn't know Derek's side of the story. How much did he like Stiles? Did he actually like him? At what point had Stiles stopped communicating fully? The whole time?
Stiles wouldn't be able to get those questions answered until he could sit down and talk to Derek, and Derek wouldn't let that happen until Stiles apologized. So now he was back to square one: how to properly apologize without all the information necessary to apologize.
Thankfully it was his left hand in a cast and not his right, Stiles thought as he settled into his chair at his desk and grabbed a nearby notebook and flipped to an empty page. He grabbed a pencil from the cup on the desk and got to writing, explaining his side of the story. Derek had said he had a weakness for handwritten letters.
It took him three pages, front and back, to write it all out, but he finally finished a couple hours later, and he folded it up and slipped it into an envelope. He wrote Derek's name on the outside, and when Scott stopped by after school to deliver his homework, Stiles asked him to deliver the letter to Derek.
Stiles didn't hear anything from Derek for two days, and he knew that Scott gave Derek the letter because Scott wanted to see them reconcile almost as much as Stiles did.
After the third day, Stiles started to worry. Had Derek even opened the letter? Did he rip it up on sight? Did he get so offended by Stiles' words that he chose never to respond? The only reason that Stiles hadn't driven over to Derek's to demand an answer was because his dad had hidden the jeep's keys, because Stiles wasn't allowed to drive with a broken arm.
Finally, four days after Stiles sent Scott to deliver the letter, Derek made his appearance.
""The ''Keep Derek Out of the Lonely Hearts Club Band' plan"? That's the name you decided on?" Was the first thing Derek said after staring down Stiles for a minute in silence.
Stiles nodded, dropping his gaze to the floor.
Derek sighed and set the note on Stiles' desk before taking a seat next to Stiles on the bed. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I wasn't lonely? That all I needed was the pack, some few good friends, and that would make me happy?"
Stiles hadn't thought that, actually, mostly because it seemed like Derek only begrudgingly did stuff with the pack, not because he wanted to. But then again, since when would that stop Derek from doing what he wanted to?
"I guess not," Stiles murmured.
"There was a lot of miscommunication going on these last couple of weeks, but it all makes a little more sense. What I just don't understand is: why introduce me to Jordan at all? If you knew you liked me, why didn't you take a chance?"
Stiles shrugged. "Because I thought there wasn't a chance. I thought you'd been on board the whole time and knew I was trying to set you up. I never thought of the possibility that you were already dating someone, or that that someone was me."
After a moment of quiet, Stiles said, "I think we should start over. Like, I don't mean start over, start over, I just mean, like. Lay it all out."
Derek nodded. "Okay."
Stiles took a deep breath. "Okay. So, I like you. And I think you're great. And we like a lot of the same things, and I really enjoyed the times we spend together, and I would like that to continue. Now that we're yanno, on the same page."
Derek shared one of his small smiles with him. "I would like that, spending more time with you. It's-- I'm not good at feelings, but I do like you, Stiles. And I think we'd be really good together."
"Awesome," Stiles breathed. "Can I kiss you now?"
Derek bit his lip shyly. "Yeah."
At first, it was a light and somewhat awkward press of lips, but then they both seemed to relax into each other, and Derek's warm hand cupped Stiles' cheek, pulling him deeper into the kiss. And then they both stopped thinking about anything for a little bit.
Stiles broke the kiss and mumbled against Derek's lips, "Are those scissors in your pocket or are you just glad to see me?"
Derek snorted and pushed Stiles away from him. He pulled the pair of silver scissors out of his pocket and presented them to Stiles. "I washed them," he promised. "I just thought you could find some use for them. Maybe you can use them as a weapon, I don't know."
"Thank you," Stiles said, taking them and gently setting them onto his desk. Spying the letter he took his seat back next to Derek and asked, "When did you read the letter?"
"It took me a day," Derek confessed. "I was still angry and confused, so it took me a while to realize that reading what you had to say might actually help rather than make me angrier. After that... I wasn't sure how I felt about what you said, so that took me a couple days to figure out."
"Understandable," Stiles replied, nodding.
Derek dragged his fingers over Stiles' cast, tracing with his fingers all of the drawings Scott did, chuckling at the sub-par wolf representation. "Does it hurt?" he asked, looking back up at Stiles.
Stiles shook his head. "Not really. It tingles, sometimes. Itches."
"We'll try to keep the broken bones to a minimum next time. Better yet, let's not let there be a next time."
Stiles scoffed and cupped Derek's cheek. "Please. We live in Beacon Hills. There's always a next time."
Derek didn't protest when Stiles captured his lips again, just held him back gently.
*
"Hey Derek," Stiles spoke as he took his seat on the couch in Derek's loft the following full moon weekend.
Derek raised his eyebrows, the only outward sign that he was listening to his boyfriend.
Stiles draped himself over Derek's back, and the werewolf relaxed at the touch. "Jack never had a chance to steal my heart, because you'd already stolen it."
Scott snickered at the bad joke while the rest of the pack groaned. Derek just rolled his eyes. Without taking his eyes off of the book in his hand, Derek reached around him with his free arm and pulled Stiles into his lap.
Stiles squawked at the sudden movement, but settled easily into Derek's lap, curling against his chest so he could read the book as well. His hand came up to rest on Derek's chest and he tapped it to the beat of his heart.