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"I think you need to see a doctor."
Stiles rolled his eyes at his dad and huffed angrily. "I'm serious."
His father still looked wary. Stiles signed and muttered, "Scott and Derek told me they should come because you wouldn't believe me but I didn't want to scare you. Guess I was wrong. They're probably outside though. So they can just come in and show you. Stop looking at me like I need to be institutionalized! I'm not crazy, they're coming. They can hear us." Behind his father Scott and Derek silently appeared in his kitchen, proving they could, in fact, hear their conversation.
He gestured for his father to turn around and was awarded with begrudging obedience. Stiles will never admit the tiny amount of joy he felt when his father jumped slightly at the two werewolves' sudden appearance.
"Sheriff," Derek greeted stiffly, knowing Stiles had already mentioned their relationship before getting to the mythological aspects of their secret lives. His posture displayed his discomfort loud and clear, leaving deliberate space between himself and others. Stiles couldn't help but chuckle silently. Derek's eyes snapped to his in a glare that only made his smirk grow.
Scott, on the other hand, was calmly slouched against the counter and seeming to have no problem with revealing this to man who was the closest thing he had to a father. "I promise he's not crazy," Scott's voice was tight, betraying his worry.
The sheriff remained silent but his eyebrow quirked as if to say, "Prove it."
Scott gave a frustrated sigh and gathered his courage. He blinked, his eyes going from brown to a brightly glowing yellow, and opened his mouth to reveal his slowly elongating canine teeth. Claws clearly displayed themselves on the hand Scott had splayed out on the counter. For now he didn't bother sprouting the extra facial hair - no reason to freak out the man any more.
When Stiles looked back at his dad, the sheriff had his hand on his gun holster.
"You can try and shoot him dad, but it won't do much."
Scott threw him a peeved look and Derek's scowl tightened slightly.
"Well it's not like he has wolfsbane bullets," Stiles tried to explain.
Scott's glare effectively silenced Stiles. "I'm sorry Sheriff," Scott's voice was distorted by his oversized fangs; he retracted them before continuing, "We wanted to tell you sooner but Stiles was worried it would put you in danger."
"Not that it's really dangerous. I mean with the alpha pack and whole kanima thing over with-" his father turned to look at him. They hadn't gotten to the whole 'Jackson was sort of a lizard' thing. "I'll explain that part later. But we're out of danger - for now at least - and I just didn't want to have to lie to you anymore."
The silence stretched on while stiles waited for his father to say something, anything.
"I'm sorry."
At that the sheriff slouched and dropped his hand from his gun in a defeated gesture. The tension physically drained from his body; he collapsed into one of the kitchen stools and scrubbed a had over his face. "What the hell, Stiles?"
"Sorry, dad but it's really not my fault. I mean, Peter started all of this when he bit Scott and I was actually just being a good friend. You know I trained him? Well, I did sort of have to break the law a little to do it. Don't look at me like that! I only stole the coaches phone and one of those heart beat monitors. And we broke into a few places. And, well, there was a lot of other law breaking not having to do with training... But we don't need to go into detail about that. Oh, and none of this is Derek's fault cause Derek has only helped us- I mean he was kind of an ass in the beginning but now we're all pack and cool and well me n' Derek and all that jazz." Stiles finally trailed off because his dad looked like he really didn't want to know anything about the crimes or his relationship. "Dad?"
The sheriff dropped his face into his hands. "Maybe I need a doctor too."
Scott walked over to clap the sheriff on the back, hoping to be comforting, but stopped to show his declawed hand to try to sooth the weary look on his face. "You're fine, John. Stiles is the craziest of all of us and he hasn't gone completely off the rocker yet. I mean that in the most affectionate of ways," he said the last part to his best friend with Stiles dropped his jaw in reaction to the comment on his sanity.
"Really not helping, buddy," Stiles said and shoved Scott toward the door. Scott wouldn't have left but his phone buzzed - probably Alison - and he scurried away after throwing a concerned look in Stiles's direction.
"So... Dad? How you feeling." Stiles looked to Derek for help but found only a blank face.
After a pause, he said softly, "I'm ok son."
Stiles breathed a huge sigh of relief and Derek's posture relaxed slightly. "Oh thank god because I was afraid you still might shoot Derek and/or send me to a mental hospital."
"Not- not tonight."
Stiles laughed lightly but his dad didn't seem like he was entirely joking. "Oh my god please don't actually shoot Derek dad. I mean don't send me to a mental hospital either but definitely don't shoot him even though he won't like die unless you get some wolfsbane bullets from Chris Argent and I probably shouldn't have told you that because now you know how. But anyways. Please don't shoot him. It would be mean even if they were just regular bullets. And I, I really like him, dad."
His father's eyes shifted to his face. He could feel Derek look to him too but couldn't meet either of their gazes. Of course Derek knew Stiles really liked him (and his father probably knew it too), but they'd never actually said it. Stiles pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and began to chew on it. No one spoke and he started shifting from one foot to the other uncomfortably.
"Well ok then," his dad muttered finally. "I think that's enough... talking for one night. Derek, I expect to see you at breakfast tomorrow. And no, that doesn't mean he can spend the night," Stiles eager expression fell and he sighed angrily. Derek would come through his window anyways but it would be nice to not have to lie at all anymore.
"Ok then pops. I'll see Derek out and um, I guess I'll see you at breakfast."
Stiles shuffled Derek towards the door.
"Night," his father called from the stairs.
"Night," Stiles called back. Derek remained silent. They walked out onto the porch and Stiles pulled the door shut before breathing a sigh of relief and dropping his forehead onto the older man's shoulder. "Well good thing that's over."
"It's not over, we have breakfast tomorrow, remember?"
"Don't remind me," he groaned and Derek chuckled. Stiles whacked his arm lightly. Derek caught his wrist and slipped their fingers together; Derek's other had lifted Stiles's chin gently and he placed a soft kiss on his lips. "Come to my room tonight?" Stiles voice was barely a whisper when they pulled apart.
"Your dad said no sleepovers."
"I don't care."
Derek just gave him a small smile and a nod before slipping away into the darkness of the night.