Chapter Text
Chapter One: The plane
Derek Hale could barely hide his amusement as he watched Stiles wiggle uncomfortably on the small, exquisitely expensive seat inside the ridiculously expensive private plane, gripping the edges of the beautiful mocha-colored leather tight while he clenched his teeth.
The oldest of the wolves sat in front of the only human on board, watching his nerves toy with him, debating to keep quiet or to add more oil to the fire of the sweaty human. In the end, he couldn’t hold it anymore, knowing this was the perfect opportunity to tease Stiles.
‘Come on, Stiles,’ the oldest wolf grinned, bearing his perfect white teeth while he rubbed his stubbly chin, knowing all too well he is the cause behind Stiles’ distress. ‘It really isn’t that bad. You’re safer on a plane than in that crooked jeep of yours, you do know that, right? Which, if I recall correctly, you’ve already smashed several times. It’s a miracle that thing is still able to drive.’
Stiles just grunts, closing his eyes as beads of sweat pour down his forehead, some of them dripping on his bottom lip, others sticking to his cheeks as he slightly flushes. He hates flying, always has. His dad told him once it has to do with this one time when they flew up to Boston to discuss his mother’s condition with a neurologist, and had ended up in a hellish storm right before landing. He was only six years old then, but had remembered every single moment for years after. His distressed mother had held him while he cried out to his parents they were all going to die.
Since then, Stiles has been adamant about flights, refusing to go on overseas trips or even short trips out, vowing to keep his feet glued to the ground for the rest of his life. But this time, he got screwed over big time by the others, having agreed to go with the gang before he knew he was supposed to travel by plane.
Worse than that, he’s currently stuck in an all too small private plane with two engines and twelve seats. Commuter flights he actually might have gotten used to eventually. Hell, he even debated following airplane-phobia sessions to get rid of the biggest fear in his life. But this? No, he wasn’t prepared for it at all.
No matter what anyone ever said about risks and chances and percentages about plane crashes, there was always the chance something could go terribly wrong. And then, they’d all be stuck inside this all too small aircraft, with no way out.
Stiles kept that in mind as he onboard the damned thing, feeling Scott’s hand firmly grip around his wrist to get him on board. He really doesn’t want to be here, he still doesn’t. And he’s upset that they not only did not listen to him, they also coerced him to do so, knowing he would never say no when they all went and he wouldn’t.
‘Seriously, plane crashes occur rarely, you shouldn’t worry about a thing,’ Derek continued, a teasing smile playing on his face. ‘Stop gripping that seat, Stiles, you’ll rip out the damned upholstery. Who’s going to pay for that, you think?’
‘Tell that to the passengers of Malaysian Airlines,’ Stiles grunts, refusing to look out the window to take in the beautiful desert area they were currently crossing. ‘Or that guy who crashed his plane deliberately against a mountain in Europe. Remember that one? He locked the cockpit door when the captain went to the loo, and then changed the course. Who says this guy up there is reliable? He might be a serial killer or some supernatural wendigo-flying-monster deciding to kill us all.’
Next to him, Scott snorts before groping another handful of peanuts from the small, fully stacked bar to his right. ‘Stiles, you are the most fearless person I know. What’s wrong with you, dude? This whole flight-phobia thing of yours is pretty scary.’
‘You want to talk about scary?’ Stiles mumbles, grabbing Scott’s wrist so tight he actually winces. ‘I’ll show you scary if that pilot proposes yet another circling around the area for one good extra look at this so-called beautiful scenery. I will go up front and knock his teeth out, I swear.’
Scott slowly releases Stiles’ grip of his wrist, grinning at him. ‘The amount of money you spent on tape to patch up that jeep of yours, could feed four families, Stiles. Derek does have a point. Why be uncomfortable for such a long time when you get offered the luxury of a private plane with all the extras?’
‘Don’t we have champagne on board so we can drunk-feed him?’ Derek mumbles as he plays a game on his smartphone. ‘Might shut him up for a while.’
Stiles kicks the werewolf’s leg. ‘Thanks for your support.’
‘You’re welcome.’
Liam, sitting next to Derek, just grins. ‘You kids seem to be having fun bitching about flights, but I do agree I like this plane ride a whole lot better than sitting in the back of your not-so-fancy jeep, Stiles. You really should get the same upholstery.’
Stiles glares at the youngest wolf on board. ‘Seriously, Liam? One more word about my jeep, and I’ll strap you behind it instead of in it. How’s that for a change?’
Liam laughs. ‘I was just saying how much I admire what you did with her, Stiles. Seriously, you fix her u every single time, you’ve even replaced her engine with tape. I don’t know how you do it.’
Stiles curses under his breath as the two-engine plane hits an air pocket and shakes them all slightly, paling him even more. His already upset stomach isn’t fond of the sudden movements of the aircraft, which he considers as damned unstable.
‘Crap. Fuck. Hell,’ he mutters angrily. ‘I swear to god he can land right here and drop me off. I’ll walk the rest of it.’
Lydia sighs deeply as she leans forward between Stiles and Scott. She’s sitting behind them, next to Malia, enjoying the view. Or at least trying to, as the conversation unnerves her. Unlike Stiles, she actually likes flying in small planes.
‘Scott, stop snorting with your mouthful,’ she orders, lifting her eyes to the skies. ‘And Stiles, stop swearing so much. Yes, you are right, statistically speaking there’s always a chance of crashing, about one in ten million or so, but there’s more chance of being stuck out in the desert with your jeep because you forgot to repair something that turns out to be significantly important for the actual driving. So, if you don’t mind, keep all the gory plane-is-going-to-crash stories to yourself. And besides, eight hours of driving in your very uncomfortable jeep hurts my back. Besides, that thing couldn’t fit us all in.’
Malia pushes Lydia slightly aside as she leans over Stiles’ seat, cradling the top of his head, hugging him in an awkward, but cute manner, showing her support. Or not.
‘I actually like this flying thing, Stiles. It’s quite nice not having to listen to the roaring engine of your broken down jeep for once. But on the other hand, that jeep does have other uses,’ she adds, grinning when Stiles flushes an embarrassed scarlet red.
‘Will you guys stop bashing my jeep already?’ Stiles reacts, clawing his hands even further into the leather by the second air pocket while Malia lets go and sinks back down. ‘Besides, it’s only four hours to get there and it’s not like we haven’t done that before, remember? Beats one hour on this stupid thing any time.’
From the front, the pilot calls out to them, telling them to take a look outside. ‘We’re right in the center of Great Rock Desert,’ he points out, ‘isn’t it beautiful? You can certainly get lost around here.’
Stiles looks out briefly, staring at the countryside, immediately paling once again when the pilot makes a small nose dive to allow them a better look. He’s been doing that ever since they left, without anyone’s actual request they want to have a better look.
‘Are we there yet?’ he begs quietly, staring intently at Derek who has arranged this flight, hoping the oldest wolf will feel sorry for hum at one point. He was the one inviting them over for a weekend in Palm Springs, popping the question unexpectedly a few days ago.
‘I have some distant relatives living down there,’ he explained while asking, ‘they invited me over and told me to bring some friends. For one reason or the other, they seem to believe I don’t have anyone in my life at all. They obviously think I’m some kind of isolated lunatic.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Stiles blurted out, receiving a kick in the ribs from Scott.
Derek eyed him angrily, only to snort immediately after. ‘You know what, Stiles? You actually do have a point. I am kind of dark and crazy, aren’t I?’
‘Dark, brooding, introvert, dangerous, killer instinct. That sort of sums it up,’ Stiles retorted. ‘Does your family know by the way that you’re a bloodsucking werewolf?’
‘Vampires suck blood, we just bite,’ Derek replied. ‘And yes, they do, because they too enjoy eating fresh young human flesh.’
‘Ah, so we’re dinner?’
‘No,’ Derek corrected, ‘not Scott, or Liam, or Lydia or Malia. They prefer human flesh. So, why don’t you tag along?’
Stiles paled and then grinned, dropping his smartphone for the sixth time that day by accident. ‘Scott, seriously? We are actually going to head out and meet Mr. and Mrs. Cannibal?’
Derek burst into laughter at that. ‘Stiles, we’re not cannibals. And don’t worry, they’re harmless. They’re vegetarian.’
Scott grinned at that, gently kicking Stiles in the ribs.
‘I still don’t trust you,’ Stiles mutters quietly. ‘You usually have a motive when you ask things like this.’
‘Have I ever asked you to join me on a weekend away before?’
‘No, the more the reason not to trust you now,’ Stiles blurted out.
‘Look, they have a mansion right down in the center of Palm Springs and they have no other family but me and Peter, and you know that certainly is not an option. They’ve been over to the loft a few times and have asked me to come over now. That’s it. And if you don’t want to come, that’s fine too. But think about it, a weekend away bathing in the sun, catching up on some vitamin D at an amazing swimming pool. Sounds like a punishment, don’t you think?’
‘Yeah, it is to me,’ Stiles blurted out, receiving a second kick in the ribs from Lydia, who had smiled broadly at Derek at the sound of swimming pool and sunbathing. Then Malia kicked him too, her dark eyes sparkling.
‘I didn’t even know people could own swimming pools,’ she mumbled.
Derek leaned over to her. ‘And it’s huge, trust me.’
‘So, when do we leave again?’ the girls retorted in unison.
Stiles stared at Lydia and Malia, suddenly envisioning both of them in small, tight bikinis, lingering in the sun, waiting for someone to rub their backs with sun lotion. Pushing back the vision and the effects this had on the lower part of his body, he nodded his agreement, without realizing at that point they would be flying.
He had expected them to drive by car, had been preparing his beloved jeep for the four-hour journey, when Derek texted him to let him know his relatives were sending a plane over. It would only take an hour and a half to fly over there, but to Stiles it felt like his world was falling apart. He had nearly bit his tongue right there and then, shocked at the idea Derek’s family was rich enough to send over a plane. Who were these people?
Once he recovered from that, Stiles had immediately envisioned a small, suffocating plane crashing straight into the desert, leaving its passengers burned to a crisp between the wreckage.
‘Oh no,’ he told Scott frantically, ‘I’m not flying over. Palm Springs? Yeey! Flight? Not so yeey!’
‘Come on, Stiles, sooner or later you have to get on a plane,’ Scott pushed him. ‘You can’t avoid them forever, you know? Planes take you places, allow you to see the world. There’s more out there than just Beacon Hills, you know? What are you going to do if you study at the other side of the country?’
‘Not come back for a year or take the train,’ Stiles mumbled.
‘So you’d prefer to be stuck a day on a train sitting between five other sweaty passengers, instead of a three-hour flight?’
‘You betcha. Wanna watch me puke an hour long? I don’t think so!’ Stiles reacted. ‘You guys can fly and I’ll take the jeep. I can do that and still beat you in time. Waiting hours and all that. But I am not going to go on that plane.’
‘Then you tell Derek yourself,’ Scott grinned.
‘I just won’t tell him. You tell him.’
‘Why? I’m not the one chickening out.’
‘Excuse me? I’m not chickening out. I’m just … being cautious,’ Stiles protested weakly.
‘You are totally chickening out,’ Liam pointed out dryly. ‘We can knock you out, if you like. Your skull is pretty weak, one good blow to the side of your head and you’re out for a couple of hours.’
‘And then knock him a concussion?’ Lydia reacted dryly. ‘No, he has to stay awake.’
Stiles grunted. ‘Not you too, Lydia. Seriously?’
‘Why are so scared of flying?’ Malia asked curiously. ‘So what it if crashes? I’ll get you out.’ She smiled and kissed her boyfriend on the lips. ‘Stiles, come on, I’ve never seen a house with a pool before, you can’t deny me that, can you?’
‘Easy for you to say. If it crashes, you can heal yourself, Malia. But me? I’ll be dying a slow, agonizing death,’ Stiles muttered angrily, jealous because Kira was not coming along, as her parents were taking her on a trip that weekend, despite her protests to go with her friends instead.
The rest of agonizing days before they left, Stiles searched for excuses to escape too, but found none. He even debated asking her parents to take him too, but her mother would probably try to poke him all weekend to find out if the Nogitsune is really gone forever. She’s been begging for him to speak to her about it, something he’s been avoiding since long. So he gave up on that idea.
Ultimately, it was his dad who patted him on the shoulder and pushed him straight into Derek’s arms, telling him to have a great time. Stiles had debated to simply forget his weekend bag so he would have an excuse to stay at home, but his dad had sensed this and had packed behind his back.
‘Some day you have to face your fears,’ his last words were. ‘Now you go have a great time and just forget you’re on a plane. It’ll be fine.’
He swore he could hear his dad whisper to his friends, ‘Just feed him enough Dramamine to knock him out and you’ll be fine. Otherwise, tie him up and make sure he doesn’t puke.’
And that was the end of it.
Suddenly the plane makes an unexpected move, heading deeper into the desert. Stiles looks up frantically, grabbing Scott’s wrist tight for the second time as he calls out, ‘We’re gonna crash, aren’t we?’
For the first time, Derek too looks pale.