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“Come on, son, there’s somewhere I need to take you,” his dad said, holding a hand out to help Stiles up off the hospital bed where his dad had dragged him when he’d shown up at the house all beaten and bruised.
“Is it gonna turn out like this little trip did?” Stiles asked, not unkindly. He was annoyed at being looked over, even if he understood why his dad insisted.
“Nothing like this. But, thank you. For letting me drag you in here, no matter how much you protested.”
“I understand why you did it, dad, I’m just …”
“Just annoyed that now there is documentation of a beating you sustained from an adult? An assault on a minor?” His dad asked, raising an eyebrow. “More than one adult, actually, judging by the different sizes of the bruises, but I’m not prying into that right now. You’ll tell me when you’re ready.”
“Not much more to tell.” Stiles grumbled, as his dad led the way out of the hospital to the cruiser. “I know Melissa told you what I told her.” He’d told her so that she wouldn’t charge out and beat the snot out of Scott, since she was under the impression that her son was protecting his best friend. He’d told her that Scott didn’t even know he’d been taken, that he hadn’t even known he was missing, just like no one else aside from his dad noticed. It was disheartening, to say the least, that the guy he considered a brother hadn’t noticed he wasn’t around until he needed him to bring Lydia. So he’d told her that it was hunters, that it was Gerard that the hunters brought him to, and they did it to try and get to Scott. Which only pissed her off more.
“Lie.” His dad said, not looking at him as they both settled into their seats. “Something else was going on, something you don’t want to tell me about, but that’s fine. Melissa only told me a few things that I can put in the police report and subsequent restraining order. But we’re doing something a little different. Where I’m taking you … everything’s already been arranged through the high school, so trust your old man just a little, alright?”
“You know I trust you, dad.” Stiles sighed. “Can we at least get food on the way? I’m starving.”
“Sure thing, kid.” His dad chuckled, heading away from the hospital.
He felt like a ball of anxiety as they left and got food. He was jogging his leg and tapping his fingers on his thigh while his dad drove them calmly around the city and pulled into the University parking lot, parking the car. He frowned, but followed his dad when he got out, keeping pace with him as he walked to the admissions office. He had about five million questions, but was trying to order them in his head in order of precedence.
“Ok, one, why are we here? Two, what does this have to do with the high school? Three,-”
“Stiles.” His dad sighed, but Stiles kept going.
“Three, we are soo getting a hoodie or something from the store before we leave; four, stop rubbing your chest. I told you you should have gotten the healthier version of that biscuit, it’s your own fault for not listening to me. Five, how much of the meds they gave me at the hospital are going to interfere with my Adderall, because I’ve missed at least one dose, probably two?”
“Breathe, son. We’re gonna meet with someone who can answer most of your questions about why we’re here. I’m not against getting a school shirt, we can get one for each of us. And Melissa assured me the medicine she gave you won’t adversely affect your Adderall, which she noticed your twitching indicating a missed dose, so she talked to the doc who gave me a temp script to get you through until we could get home.” He handed over a couple pills, which Stiles hurriedly took, swallowing them down with the last sip of his coffee.
“Ok, well, I’m going on blind faith here, daddio. Wait, are you taking classes again? Don’t you already have two degrees?” he said, giving his dad a small smile and patting his shoulder as they reached the doors.
“I do, but we’re not here for me, kid.” He gave Stiles a long look, and Stiles was sort of speechless at the implication.
“I’m too young to take college classes, though, and I haven’t finished high school.”
“You are not too young, and you’re taking all AP classes, tied for top spot in your year. If what I’ve been told is true, you and Lydia Martin are the two smartest students to come through Beacon Hills High in years, and they are struggling to keep you both occupied while your peers struggle with the material. Neither one of you struggle, though. Like I said, this was arranged through the school. There’s a fund set up that allows a student to take a few courses, a couple times a week, providing they don’t fall behind in their path toward their high school diploma.” His dad assured him.
“Not to mention the scholarships you’re going to be applying for, that I have no doubt you are going to receive.” A woman said, walking up to them as they came in. “I’m Clara Barton, I’ll be your advisor. There’s coffee if you need some, otherwise we can go to my office and go over the course I think would be best to start off on.”
Stiles helped himself to another cup of coffee, getting one for his dad, too, before following his advisor, apparently, back to her office. By the time they were done, two hours later, Stiles was enrolled for Psychology, Sociology, and an English Lit seminar. He and his dad had filled out the scholarship applications together, which Clara said he’d get, no problem, even winking at him. Stiles had gotten a free hoodie, and his dad had gotten a sweet discount on one for him. Stiles already knew where to get the books he’d need super cheap, practically free, so his dad didn’t fight him when they were done and ready to head home.
The classes were actually exactly what Stiles needed to keep his focus off of all the supernatural shit that kept happening in his life. He hadn’t heard from Scott in a few days, which really pissed him off, but he threw himself into schoolwork to hide how much it hurt. What he hadn’t expected, was three days after everything, for Derek to show up and tap on his window, causing him to flail and nearly fall out of his computer chair.
“Jesus, man, nearly gave me a heart attack.” He grumbled, opening the window to let the wolf inside. “You know, the fables about letting wolves inside seem oddly appropriate to mention right about now.” He righted his chair and sat back at his desk, before he was pulled away and spun around.
“You’re hurt.” Derek said, apropos of nothing.
“And you’re a shit conversationalist. Are we done stating the obvious? I have homework to do.”
“Why are you hurt? What happened?”
“Oh, so someone finally realized that no one has seen me in a few days, have they?”
“Stiles.”
“Don’t growl at me, Sourwolf, I’ve been stewing in this for days, almost a week, since the lacrosse game, actually, and you’re the first asshole to show up and actually ask. While you were doing whatever the hell it is that you do, or were doing, some hunters grabbed me during the game when Jackson supposedly died. Grandpa Argent decided he wanted to try and get information out of the puny human about the werewolves while simultaneously shocking Boyd and Erica to hell. They’re fine, b-t-w, I got them out when I got free. Not sure where they went, though.”
“Stiles-” Derek said, trying to interrupt him.
“No. I’m fine, got checked out at the hospital and everything because dad wanted to file a report. There’s a restraining order and a warrant out for Gerard’s arrest, if he ever shows his face here again. The deputies were all pretty pissed and wanted to go out and shake down the city, actually, but dad convinced them to hold off on the manhunt.”
“You practically grew up there. They’re your family.” Derek said with certainty. Stiles was glad that he hadn’t lingered on what they were upset about. He wasn’t interested in talking about it any further.
“Yeah, I know.” Stiles sighed, trying to scoot back to his desk again. “So. Did you come here for anything specific?”
“Not really. You just … have this way of rambling that I find equally annoying and calming.” Stiles stared at him in confusion for a minute. “What are you studying?”
“Points for effort on the compliment and distraction tactic.” Stiles said, raising an eyebrow and turning around. “So apparently there’s this thing between Beacon Hills High and the University that let’s high school kids take college classes, even when they aren’t seniors. Dad got it worked out and I even got a couple scholarships, so that helps with the money part. Psychology is my current vexation.”
“Hm.” Derek hummed, looking over his shoulder at what he had done so far. “I always hated that class.”
“Sucks balls seeing things that you can relate to, that’s for sure.” Stiles agreed.
“Thought school was out for the summer? I’m guessing these are summer classes?”
“Yeah, dad said he wanted to start me last semester, but there was too much going on at the station to be able to take me over and get the paperwork and things taken care of.”
“If you want help, let me know. Well, if you take many science or math courses. I was an engineering major.”
“You should go by the school sometime, finish it.”
“I don’t know.” Derek said hesitantly.
“I have class tomorrow at ten. Come by, I’ll give you a ride and you can talk to someone.”
“Is your jeep still running after the warehouse?”
“Very funny.” Stiles said, glaring at Derek’s dig to his baby. “Roscoe is gonna outlive us all if I have anything to do about it. So. Be here at nine thirty, I’ll give you a ride. My lecture doesn’t get out until 11:30, so not sure you’ll want to wait around for me to give you a ride back. Now get outta here so I can finish this.”
“Try to get some sleep, Stiles.” Derek sighed, crawling out the window. “And, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry for what happened to you.”
“Yeah, no offense, but we are not bonding over being abused by an Argent. Curly fries, sure; abuse? No, hard pass, dude.” Stiles snorted. Derek rolled his eyes, grunting something that sounded suspiciously like ‘don’t call me dude’ and disappeared into the night like a total creeper. “I really need to find a way to make my window supernatural creature proof.” He sighed and finished off his paper, heading downstairs to warm up dinner for his dad for when he got off his late shift.
A week after Derek’s impromptu visit and going to the school with him, well, the weekend, so a week and a half later, Melissa came by with Scott in tow for dinner. She checked Stiles over, making sure he was healing and that he wasn’t having any other troubles, but Scott just kept looking at him with wide, sad eyes. Stiles didn’t give him an opportunity to ask about any of it until they were in his room playing video games after they’d eaten, while his dad and Scott’s mom talked over coffee.
“What happened to you?” Scott finally asked, as the game loaded.
“Now you wanna know?” Stiles asked, raising an eyebrow at his best friend. He wasn’t angry with Scott, he could never stay angry at him for more than a day, maybe two. He was angry about the whole situation, not Scott specifically.
“After the game, you just disappeared. I thought you were with your dad or something.” Scott admitted, his puppy eyes looking heartbroken. “God, I didn’t even notice that you were missing and someone beat the crap out of you. I’m a terrible friend. Tell me I’m a terrible friend.”
“You’re a terrible friend, Scotty.” Stiles sighed. “But you had your own shit going on. Lydia texted me that Allison and her father went to Europe, so I figured you were moping about losing your first girlfriend.”
“I still should have noticed, Stiles!” Scott practically shouted. “You’re my best friend and I didn’t know what happened!”
“You were making your own plans, dude. Just, next time you try planning some shit like whatever it was you did, tell me about it. I could have helped, or distracted someone. Something. Planning and strategies have never really been your strong suit, that’s always what I did. I’d plan, and you’d implement it. We’re a team. But you totally benched me.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” Scott asked, looking at the TV as the screen divided into their individual shooters. So Stiles told him everything. Granted he left out the bit about his dad enrolling him in college courses, but that wasn’t really important. Scott was still working at the clinic and taking summer classes at the high school so he wouldn’t be held back a year, so he was just as busy as Stiles. Scott even told him what all happened at the warehouse before he’d shown up with Lydia, too.
“Scott? You ready to go?” Melissa called up the stairs.
“Can I stay with Stiles tonight?” Scott asked, popping his head out of the door, Stiles leaning around him.
“Yeah, can he stay with Stiles tonight?” Stiles asked, trying to give his own innocent look to his dad, who never bought it. But Scott’s puppy eyes were something to be feared. They could melt the coldest hearts.
“Ok, but I want you home before I get off work tomorrow, alright?” She said, looking at them both as sternly as she could.
“Sure thing, mom!” Scott agreed, cheering and reaching a hand back for Stiles to slap. Which he did.
“I’ll make some cinnamon rolls or something to send home with him.” Stiles promised, grinning when her stern expression turned hopeful.
“You know I’m a sucker for your cinnamon rolls, Stiles. Ok boys, be good.”
“Bye mom!”
“By Melissa!”
They spent most of the night playing video games like they did when they were awkward preteens, telling his dad goodnight when he went to bed, reminding them to get some sleep at some point. Stiles spotted Derek at the window at one point, or thought he did, but when he blinked, there was no one there. He looked out when he got up to use the bathroom, but didn’t see anyone and wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him. He and Scott made plans to meet up every Friday, as well as trying to figure out what they were going to do for Scott’s birthday at the end of the summer.
It was a really fun night.