Chapter Text
Stiles and Erica walked into the pack meeting together, which they did almost every pack meeting nowadays. They liked to get burgers beforehand and work on homework together. Stiles was the more academic one of the pair, though she helped edit his papers for English class when he went off-topic or wrote excited run-on sentences. She relished crossing out sections with her big red marker. He always told her she should be an editor, and she kept saying, “Maybe,” like she kept saying, “Maybe,” when he asked her if she filled out those college applications yet.
They were laughing as they entered. Erica had been telling this really good story about her mom’s reaction when she went to grab something from Erica’s closet (Erica was still at the school at the time) and Derek, king of the creepers, had been just been sitting there on Erica’s bed reading a magazine.
Their laughter was cut short at the sight of Jackson, Lydia, Boyd, and Isaac all talking rapidly with serious expression on their faces. Never a good sign.
“What’s up, guys?” Stiles said, taking his usual place on the beanbag chair that he was pretty sure Derek had bought especially for him.
“Scott didn’t tell you?” Boyd said. He gulped. “That’s a bad sign.”
“Huh?” Erica said. Then they heard the sound of Derek growling from the bedroom. “Oh great. They’re fighting, aren’t they?”
“Of course,” Lydia said.
“This is why I keep saying I should be the Alpha,” Jackson huffed.
“Ha! Not happening. Ever,” Erica said.
“Hey, after Scott I was the next one to get turned,” Jackson said.
“You’re counting that whole period where you were a murderous lizard?” Isaac said incredulously.
“Don’t talk about that.” Lydia reached for Jackson’s hand. It was a testament to how far Stiles had come that he didn’t flinch at this, that he didn’t actually care at all. As far as he was concerned, Lydia and Jackson were meant to be together. The way they helped each other pick up the pieces after that horrible semester sophomore year—after Jackson realized just what he had been used for, after Lydia was freed from Peter Hale’s possessive hold over her—was nothing short of inspiring. And in light of how absolutely perfect those two people who had once seemed so terrible together turned out to be, his Lydia crush kept diminishing and diminishing.
Also, the fact that it kept being outshone by a fierce blonde werewolf with a secret dorky side and a tendency to surprise him—that helped too.
“What are they fighting about?” Stiles asked.
Everyone’s eyes went to the doorway between the living room and kitchen, and Stiles turned around quickly, falling face first into the beanbag. When he managed to sit up, a very angry Derek was standing in front of the group, glistening with sweat and wearing a wifebeater.
“You all know I can hear everything you say, right? No pack meeting today. All of you just go home, alright?”
“Derek. You’re seriously being this moody just because you got in a fight with Scott?” Erica said.
“Boyfriends,” Lydia coughed into her hand.
Derek growled at her, and Lydia instinctively nestled a bit closer to Jackson. She was still not as comfortable around werewolves when they were actually being wolfy (except Jackson) as Stiles was, which they all figured traced back to Peter Hale trauma. They hadn’t stopped her from insisting on being a part of the pack, though. Derek had been quick to agree since he knew that being immune to the bite had to be the symptom of something much bigger—something he was still trying to figure out. How easily she anchored Jackson was an added bonus.
“You heard me. Get out of here. Everyone.”
They all grumbled and grabbed their things.
“Hot tubbing at my place?” Jackson asked, as they headed for the apartment door.
The group enthusiastically agreed.
“Erica,” Derek barked. “I need to talk to you.”
Erica and Stiles, who were behind the others, exchanged knowing looks. This was how it always went. Whenever Derek and Scott got into some big fight, they would both make Erica and Stiles work it out for them.
Erica sighed. “Have fun without me. And don’t be too shirtless before I get there.”
Stiles grabbed her hand. “I have to go to Scott, but I’ll call you, alright? We got them through the last disaster. We can get them through this.” Stiles disappeared out the door with the rest of the group.
Derek, who was still standing by the door in the living room, cocked his head to the left. “So when is that going to happen? Or has it already?”
Erica was blushing furiously when she turned around. “That’s none of your business.”
“Come on, we all know, Erica. And usually teenage relationships are idiotic, but you two would actually not want to make me vomit.”
“Oh, thanks.” Erica collapsed onto the couch, then kicked her feet onto the coffee table. “Now can we get this over with? Because people are in a hot tub and I want to be in a hot tub.”
Derek groaned as he sat on the recliner across from her. “I miss when you were more eager to impress me.”
Erica shrugged. “Maybe you shouldn’t have thrown me to the ground when I made out with you.”
“That was not when you stopped trying to impress me.”
“I know, but I like to remind you of it.”
“Not my best Alpha moment. I get it. Can we focus now?”
“What is it this time? Let me guess. Allison.” He looked surprised for a moment, until she said, “You’re not the only one who can smell, Derek. Her scent’s been all over him lately.”
“I know he thinks Allison is the same girl she was when he was sixteen, but she’s not,” Derek said fiercely.
“We’re in a truce with the Argents. What’s the big deal?”
“That’s the big deal. We’re in a truce. We’re at peace. The last thing all of us need is Scott screwing that truce up by getting back together with a hunter—because that’s what she is now. Not just a hunter’s daughter. A hunter. She hunted us.”
“Trust me, I’m well aware of that.”
“But of course Scott had to throw it in my face that he was the one who worked out this whole truce after Gerard died, like that gives him license to do whatever he wants. That does not make him in charge.”
“I get it,” Erica said. “I think it’s a bad idea too. But…you know, I don’t think it’s a fatally bad idea. Scott’s probably going to end up heartbroken and moping and it’ll be sad but he’ll get over it. I think it would just be for the best if you stayed out of it.”
“I can’t stay out of it. I’m responsible for him.”
Erica rolled her eyes. She was not buying this being about responsibility at all. It was about Derek wanting to assert that he was the Alpha—it was about ego and control and how threatened Derek was by how much the pack liked Scott. Sometimes Erica thought Derek probably had nightmares about Scott taking the Alpha crown from him, which was ridiculous. No matter how much they fought, Scott wouldn’t do that to Derek. They had come such a long way, they were like brothers now.
“Just, you have to explain to Stiles. Stiles will get Scott to see reason.”
“Why don’t you just talk to Stiles then?”
“You know Stiles refuses to talk to me about fights I’m having with Scott without getting Scott’s side first.”
Erica sighed. “We’ll work it out, alright? Stiles and I will fix the pack like we always do, and you can just sit here and sulk and do nothing to actively contribute to fixing the problems that you create out of nothing.”
“Well…that was harsh.” Derek pouted, and he looked both gorgeous and pathetic at the same time. Erica couldn’t believe how much more human he seemed than he had in the beginning. Even if that humanness often manifested itself in such pathetic displays as this, she liked it.
“Ugh, don’t look at me like that. Do I really need to let you do something Alpha-y to get you in a better mood?” He was still pouting. “Okay, fine, I’ll let you give me advice because I know you love telling me what to do.”
“Advice about what?”
“What do you think?”
“Stiles?”
“Stiles.”
“Honestly? I don’t see why you guys aren’t dating yet. You guys act like you’re a couple.”
“It’s just—I didn’t want to make my move too fast, you know?”
“Because of Boyd?”
“No, Boyd and I are fine. It’s mostly…I just wanted to make sure Stiles really knew me first and that he was definitely over Lydia. If I acted too soon, it would scare him away and we wouldn’t even be friends. But now that we are friends, like, practically best friends—not that I’ll ever approach Scott levels for him but who can?—it’s even scarier than I thought it would be. To make the move.”
“But you know he likes you.”
“Of course I know that. It’s just, it’s this big leap, you know? And I just have this feeling, what if we both want it but we can’t make that leap?”
“Well, the leap is not going to get any smaller the longer you wait, so if you need someone to push you to do it, this is officially that push. Just…do it.”
Erica glared at him. “Why are you being so supportive of this?”
“Because being not alone helps,” Derek said, which was surprising coming from him. Even surrounded by the pack, he was the group’s consummate loner. “And because I’m glad that I didn’t screw you up so much that you’re too afraid to like someone, and you know, you should get to be happy because you have a hard life and you do a good job, Erica. Also, Stiles is probably the most trustworthy person I’ve ever met, and he’s already used to all the werewolf stuff, so it’s in my best strategic interest to steer you towards him because I am not taking some other random boy into this pack or dealing with you trying to hide your wolf from a boyfriend and I am definitely not dealing with any more star-crossed lover scenarios.”
“And there we have it, the cold, calculating Derek we all know and love.”
“Consider yourself pushed,” he said, with a smile.
Erica smiled back. “Can I hug you now or-”
“If you have to,” he said.
Which was how he always responded but she knew that Derek liked to be hugged. He had gone for so long without it. The first time she hugged him—after he had rescued them from the Alpha pack, after she and Boyd told him they wanted to stay with him—he had just sort of stood there uncomfortably; he had now gotten to the point where he could pat her on the back.
In fact, Derek wasn’t even letting go of Erica….which meant the fight with Scott was getting to him even more than he was letting on, and he was letting on a lot.
“Derek.”
He dropped his arms. “Before you start shoving your tongue down Stiles’s throat, remember to talk to him about Scott.”
“The perfect romantic lead-in, thanks,” Erica deadpanned, grabbing her bag from the coffee table. “And by the way, if you get yourself together, you should go to Jackson’s. Go in the hot tub. Relax.”
He grunted. “I’m sure they don’t want the Alpha around.”
“Not if you’re gonna be in a mood all night, but I’m sure if you can shut your mouth about how terrible Scott is, nobody will mind. Okay, well, Jackson maybe, but since
when do we care what Jackson wants?”
“I’ll think about it,” he murmured, then retreated back to the bedroom. Erica thought she heard a pillow being torn in half as she left.
--
Stiles had texted Erica to meet him at his house. Erica loved Stiles’s house. It felt like a home—but she couldn’t tell Stiles that. Not when she had two healthy parents and he had a dead mother and a father who he constantly worried about. But Sheriff Stilinski was just so nice, and he and Stiles clearly cared so much about each other, and she liked being around that—even if it gave her a twinge of sadness whenever she got home.
She knocked on the door, and Sheriff Stilinski answered.
“You and Scott—I don’t even know why you two knock at this point,” he said, shaking his head.
Erica smiled. “Want to make sure I see you, of course.”
“Of course. Come on in. Stiles is upstairs. Oh, and he bought some of those cookies you like. He forbade me from touching them.” Sheriff Stilinski rolled his eyes. “They’re in the top cabinet.”
“Awesome! Thank you.”
“I’m heading out,” Sheriff Stilinski said. “Don’t let Stiles get into too much trouble.”
“I won’t, Mr. Stilinski.”
She felt warm as he left because Sheriff Stilinski actually liked her. Actually, he had warmed up to her at a much faster rate than Stiles had. As she climbed those steps to his room, she wondered if his dad ever wondered if they were dating. What did he say to Stiles when she was gone? Did he ask when Stiles was going to make his move, make it official? She wondered how Stiles responded—if he brushed him off, or if they had ever really talked about her.
Stiles’s bedroom door was open so Erica walked right inside. Stiles had rolled his computer chair over to his bed, where he had a collection of dusty-looking books spread out on top of his blanket. His back was to the door, and he was looking so intently at a book, that he didn’t notice Erica until her hands were bearing down on his shoulders and she was saying a breathy, “Boo,” in his ear.
“Frick! Erica. Could you, like, not do that?”
She started massaging his shoulders and heard his heartbeat quicken. “Sorry. Sorry. You were just so focused, and I couldn’t resist. And what are you so focused on, by the way?” Everything’s fine right now.” Stiles didn’t say anything. “Isn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course.”
Erica spun Stiles towards her. “Do you know something that I don’t?”
“I’m pretty sure I know a lot of things that you don’t. But I’m not going to list them or anything.”
Erica rolled her eyes. “If we didn’t have a peacemaking mission, you would be in really hot water for that statement, but since we have a job to do, whatever. Have your little secret research project.” Erica sat, cross-legged, on Stiles’s floor. “You want first?”
Stiles sighed. “Sure. Well, the story is: Allison called Scott out-of-the-blue two weeks ago and said that she wanted to talk about everything that happened sophomore year, so Scott went. Allison said she’s been doing a lot of thinking and she wanted to be friends again. Of course, it’s Scott and Allison; they weren’t going to be friends again. So basically Scott’s position is, he’s really happy, he would be able to tell if Allison was lying, and there’s a truce, anyway, so nothing bad will happen. He’s super offended Derek doesn’t trust him by now to make his own choices and that Derek was acting like he wasn’t thinking about the pack when all Scott does is think about the pack. Your turn.”
“Derek thinks Scott’s being an idiot because Allison will never be the same girl she was when she and Scott dated. She’s a hunter now, truce or not. And while I don’t think Allison’s going to kill him or anything, the fact that she called him up out of nowhere? That’s suspicious. And Derek thinks he has the right to say something about it. He’s the Alpha. He’s responsible for all of us. And he really is just trying to protect him. And all of us, really, because he doesn’t want the truce compromised.”
“So…this seems like a standard enough Scott-Derek fight. Scott being upset Derek doesn’t trust him, Derek being upset about Scott not listening to him.” Stiles sighed. “We’re gonna be mediating variations of the argument for the rest of our lives, aren’t we?”
The rest of our lives. Erica smiled to herself. The pack was her family, not just for now, for high school, but even after that. While other people graduated and drifted apart, she knew she would have them there. She knew she would have Stiles there—somehow. Even if they were going to different colleges—that is, if Erica got around to filling out her applications.
“Looks like it,” Erica said. “So how are we handling this one? Derek wants you to make Scott see reason—”
“And Scott will never see reason when it comes to Allison, so that’s out.”
“Can we just order them to kiss and make up just this once? As a favor to us?”
“Sure. I’ll let you do the ordering part with Derek to protect my cranium, but sure.”
Erica laughed. “But seriously, what are we going to do? Derek is not going to change his mind about Scott seeing Allison again.”
“Well, he’ll have to live with it.”
“This is Derek we’re talking about. His family was killed by the Argents, and you know it kills him that we’ve had to accept help from Mr. Argent. He’s not going to live with it.”
“If there was just some way Scott could prove Allison was sincere—”
“That won’t even matter to Derek. What if Mr. Argent finds out?”
“I can try to talk to Scott….a bit more calmly than Derek did, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to listen to me.”
“And maybe I can try to make it seem, like, vital that we need Derek to put up with Scott right away. Like, maybe I can get Isaac to fake some big emotional problem! And Derek won’t be able to deal. And then Isaac can be all, I really need Scott, and then Boyd and I can act like we’re all distressed about Isaac’s distress, and really put the pressure on Derek.”
“Erica. Derek can tell when people are lying. You know, werewolf. Alpha.”
Erica sighed. “Gah, I know. But there must be some way to manipulate…something. I’m getting too old for this. Maybe this is finally it. Instead of patching things up, we just tell them, no, this is our pack, and you two are pack, and you are going to work things out.” Erica gasped. “Let’s get them into a room together and trap them in!”
“That room’s going to get destroyed. Maybe Derek will be okay with the Allison thing if Scott does something else, something that kind of proves he’s looking out for the pack.”
“Like what?”
“Uh...Scott can fix that dishwasher that’s broken.”
“Wow, A-plus conflict resolution right there. Also, Derek fixed that yesterday.”
“Okay, why don’t we tackle Scott first? Because he’s more flexible. You can come with me, and we can both try to convince him to—I don’t know. He won’t listen. How are we supposed to keep patching things up between two people who are allergic to listening?”
Erica sighed. “I don’t want to talk about them anymore. I’m bored.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we’re getting anywhere with this soon. I’m up for a break. What do you want to talk about?”
She sat up a little straighter. She just had to force the words out—the words that had been dancing on her lips so long. She was Erica Reyes, and she was confident, and this was Stiles Stilinski, and he liked her, and she knew it. But that was it—he was Stiles Stilinski. The guy she liked since middle school. She dug her nails into her thigh. Do it. For a second, they turned into claws. She grimaced.
“Erica? Are you alright?”
“I want to talk about—I want to talk about why we haven’t kissed yet.”
“Huh?”
Erica stood up because she felt so much energy coursing through her body and this just felt like one of those things she shouldn’t be sitting down for. “I know that torch you’ve been carrying for Lydia has to be pretty much blown out by now. And I know that I don’t like anyone else.” When Stiles didn’t immediately say anything, Erica continued: “Come on, Stiles, you know I’m into you. I would like to say I am not the carry-a-torch-for-someone type, but if I was carrying a torch, it would have your name carved into the side of it, okay? And you can try to deny it all you want, but I can tell that you’re into me too. So why haven’t we….or maybe….why don’t we? Like, right now.”
“Erica,” he said, softly, sounding like absolute heartbreak. “It’s more complicated than that.”
“Oh, save me the melodrama, Stiles. It’s just kissing.”
“Kissing that’ll become dating.”
“So you want to date me,” Erica said triumphantly.
“My best friend’s already a werewolf. I’m in a werewolf pack. I can’t have a werewolf girlfriend too.”
“Excuse me,” Erica said, crossing her arms. “What’s wrong with having a werewolf girlfriend?”
“Nothing. Nothing. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just—my life already turns into a supernatural suckfest easily enough and-”
“A supernatural suckfest? If you dated me your life would be a supernatural suckfest?”
“No, it’s just, I’m always worrying about my dad because his health and being a cop and being alone and because this supernatural stuff might get to him, and I’m worrying about Scott because he’s my best friend, and I’m worrying about all of you, the whole pack, and I’m worrying about you because I care you about so much. And Erica, if we get together…the last thing I need is that type of worry added to my life. I just can’t.”
“First off, Stiles, I don’t need you worrying about me, okay? Because I’m fine and I can take care of myself. But I’m glad to know that I’m not even worth the worry. That’s great, really. Forget I said anything.”
“Erica, you know I don’t mean it like that. I just…I have a lot on my plate.”
“And dating me would just be adding onto the burden. I get it, Stiles. You know what? Tell Scott that he’s going to have to send you to another mediator from now—not that Scott would know the word ‘mediator.’ You can talk to Isaac or Boyd or Lydia, Jackson even, that should be fun. Or talk to Derek himself. But just—don’t talk to me.”
“Erica,” he said, walking after as she headed towards the door.
“Stiles, you lay a hand on me, and I will rip your arm out of its socket with my teeth and let Prada chew on it.”
“Yeesh.”
“And also, do you think I don’t have a lot on my plate? We all do. But I’m not going to wait until it’s more emotionally convenient for you to date me. I don’t want that.”
“Erica-”
She froze halfway through the door. She was almost in tears—very angry tears. “Do you remember when Boyd and I broke up? It was the day we moved Derek into his apartment-”
“Yeah.”
“You asked me what happened, and I told you the truth. That we had gone through a lot of crap together and that we cared a lot about each other but maybe we were figuring out that care wasn’t a romantic type of love—that it was a different type of love, just as strong, but different. I’m not confused with you, Stiles. I know what these feelings are. I know. I don’t want to just be your friend. And maybe I should’ve told you that sooner but I didn’t want to rush it. I wanted to make sure you were over Lydia and really into me, and you’ve been giving me all the signs. The constant hang-outs. The flirting. Touching my hair. Holding my hand. But even now your feelings aren’t strong enough for you to actually do this, and maybe they’ll never be. Maybe this was always meant to be one of those things where I was really into you and you just liked me but never enough. Maybe this was meant to be one of those things to toughen me up and make me cynical and—I don’t know, maybe this is just something I was meant to get over, not wait for.” Erica swiped at her tears with her wrist. “I’m not crying over you. I’m crying because…I’m just…I’m exhausted, okay?”
He had seen the vulnerable side of Erica Reyes over the years but never this vulnerable. And he wanted to hug her because they did that now and she told him he gave nice hugs but he couldn’t because, in this state, he really did believe Erica would rip off his arm with her teeth.
“Erica, it’s not that I don’t like you. I like you a lot-”
She spat, accusingly, “But you’re going off to college next year.”
“Uh, yes. And so are you, right?”
“What I’m doing doesn’t matter. What matters is that you think going off to college is your chance to get away from this ‘supernatural suckfest’ and be normal, and that’s why, even though we both like each other, you won’t date me. Because you want to be free to go off to school and meet some normal, human girl and pretend that you aren’t completely and permanently entangled in all of this, but you are, Stiles. You think that just because you’ve never taken the bite you can just get out of it? Whenever you want? That you can just choose to live a simple life and cut out some of the worry and the stress? Maybe you’re right. Maybe you can. Go for it, hon. Have fun.”
Stiles looked down at the floor. “That’s not fair, Erica.”
“Come on, Stiles. Tell me I’ve got it wrong.”
“I’ll always be part of the pack, and I’ll always be here for you guys no matter what. That will never change.”
“So it’s just me that’s too much?”
“Nothing that I was saying earlier came out right. If I can just…get my words in order…and explain-”
“Save it. I hope you find some normal girlfriend and are very happy together, and I’ll just take my werewolf self out of the equation.”
Erica charged out of the room and down the stairs and was actually happy to hear that Stiles was not following after her. She was already mortified by the tears that Stiles saw in the bedroom, and those had only been the quiet type of tears—not the sniffling, moaning type of tears that she felt welling up inside her.
Then she heard Sheriff Stilinki’s voice. “Leaving in a second. Just forgot my dinner.” He was walking through the front door as she turned the corner. “Erica, are you alright?”
She pasted on her fakest smile, but she knew it was not convincing—not when her skin was already blotchy from tears. “I’m fine, Mr. Stilinski.”
“What did Stiles do?” His voice was threatening. “Stiles!” he bellowed. “Get your butt down here!”
“No, no, it’s fine, Mr. Stilinski.” She swiped at her eyes. “I just—if I don’t see you for a while, just thank you for everything and for letting me hang out here and being nice to me and stuff. You and Stiles have a really nice house and are…you’re a really nice family.”
“Erica-”
“Thanks again, Mr. Stilinski,” she said, before running out the door.