Chapter Text
Stiles sat on the front porch of the Hale house. He chewed on the cap of his highlighter, while reading the textbook on his lap. Nearby Derek was attempting to teach Jackson and Scott how to control their inner wolves. Stiles glanced up in time to see Derek slap Jackson on the backside of his head. Stiles laughed, not because Jackson getting slapped was funny (okay, so it was a little funny), but because he was happy that it wasn't him getting on Derek's bad side for once. When Scott got the same treatment for getting distracted, Stiles covered his smirk with his hand. Scott was his best friend after all.
"Enough," growled Derek. He looked at the two betas with a mixture of anger and disappointment. "You two are actually getting worse at this."
Scott whined, "Come on, Derek. It's late, we had school all day, lacrosse practice, and-."
"And it's a Friday night," Jackson chimed in, but quieted when both Derek and Scott glared at him.
Scott continued, "And after having us chase you around the woods for an hour, you want us to be able to concentrate on accessing our wolf powers without completely shifting... It's too much. We're tired."
"Fine," said Derek, "If going home, texting your friends, playing video games and watching TV until you fall asleep is more important than this, than go."
Scott's head fell back in relief. "Thank god."
Jackson was already shouldering his bag. “You want to get a pizza?"
Scott clutched his stomach as if just realizing how hungry he was. "Yeah, sounds good. Stiles?"
Stiles was busy putting his textbook back into his bag and glanced up distractedly. "Pizza? Yeah- no, actually," he shook his head, "I promised my dad I'd be home before he got off work, plus it’s my night to cook." Stiles shrugged. "But you go ahead-"
Before Stiles even finished speaking, Scott said, "Okay," and was slipping into the passenger side door of Jackson's Porsche. Jackson smirked and sent Stiles a quick wave that clearly said 'later loser' before speeding off, leaving a spray of dust and leaves in his wake.
Stiles waved his arms as they left. "No really, go, have fun, I insist. Don't worry about me. You two get pizza and bond over how awesome it is to have superpowers, while I go home, sit alone watching the frozen dinner I'll heat up in the microwave get cold again, waiting for my dad to come home, because he forgot to tell me he'd be late again and I'll get to worry something's happened to him," Stiles muttered as he walked over to his jeep. He was pulling his keys out when a hand clamped down on his shoulder. Stiles yelped and the keys jumped from his hand to the ground. He turned to find Derek staring at him. Derek, right, he'd kind of forgotten he was still there. "Did you want something or do you just enjoy scaring the crap out of me." The corner of Derek's lips twitched up slightly, and yeah of course Derek enjoyed scaring him. Creep.
Stiles was still looking at Derek's lips when he finally spoke. "A ride."
"Huh?"
Derek rolled his eyes. "I want a ride."
Stiles bent down quickly to pick up his keys. "Yeah, I kind of have to get home." He unlocked the jeep and was going to get in when Derek's arm blocked him.
"Stiles." Derek's eyes flashed red. "Thanks to you, my car is in the shop, so if I want a ride, you will give me a ride."
"That was not my fault. Scott's the one that dented your hood."
"Because you drove it into him."
Stiles' mouth dropped. "That's not... okay, I did, but he asked me too. He wanted to practice rolling over the hood."
"And you couldn't use your own car?"
Stiles waved his hand over the jeep. "Obviously. A Camaro is way better for hood sliding than a jeep. Besides I didn't want it getting dented."
Derek's gaze narrowed. Stiles was pretty sure he heard a growl too.
Stiles sighed. "Fine. Get in."
As Derek slipped into the passenger seat next to him, Stiles asked, "Where to?"
"I need to look something up."
“Did you try a dictionary?” Stiles didn’t have to look at Derek to know he was glaring. He started the car up and pulled away from the old burned down house. "I hate to tell you, but the library would be closed by now."
"You have a computer," said Derek.
"I do." There was a long silence as Stiles wondered if there was a 24 hour internet cafe somewhere he could drop the alpha off at, before he finally sighed and gave in. "Alright, but if my dad gets home before you leave, you're going out the window. He can't see you. I'm already on thin ice."
Derek nodded. "He'll never know I was there."
* * *
Stiles was groggy when he woke up the next morning. His face was smushed comfortably against his pillow, there was a blanket over him, and his shoes had been removed, none of which he could remember doing. The last thing he could remember before waking he had been studying for his final exams. He tossed the blanket back and sleepily slid his legs over the side of his bed, dropping his socked feet down to the floor. He took one step and promptly tripped over something large and heavy.
The lump moved under Stiles and growled. "Ack!" Startled, Stiles flailed as he scrambled off. Next to him, Derek was lying on the floor. He did not look happy to be woken so abruptly. Not that Derek was much of a morning person to begin with. Stiles met his narrowed gaze with wide eyes. Why was Derek Hale in his room, sleeping on his floor with Stiles' pillow and Stiles' blanket? Was he on the run again and hiding out? Because Stiles wasn't sure he could handle sharing a room with the werewolf again, especially not during midterms when he really needed to focus. The guy put him on edge. For various reasons. Like that one time when Stiles had woken up in the middle of the night to find Derek standing over his bed, just staring at him. Who does that? Aside from scary serial killing stalkers or supernaturally good looking fictional vampires, the answer was no one. Except, apparently, Derek freakin’ Hale. And he tended to sleep in nothing but boxers. Daytime didn’t give Stiles any breaks either as Derek would wander around the bedroom shirtless, doing pushups and other things that made his perfectly sculpted body glisten with sweat.
Even now, just after waking up, Derek was rumpled, his hair mussed, but in that irritatingly perfect ‘I just rolled out of bed’ male-model way. "What the hell," he groused drowsily. Stiles was pretty certain that should have been his line.
"Hey you're the one who set up camp next to my bed. You'd think you would have learned from the last time. Why are here anyway?"
"It got late and you fell asleep; on your notebook. You had spiral marks on your face."
That was... embarrassing and totally did not answer Stiles’ question. He opened his mouth to say so, but stopped when he heard footsteps in the hallway outside his bedroom.
"Stiles, you okay? I heard a loud thump." Stiles' dad spoke from the other side of the door. The door knob began to turn.
Panicked, Stiles grabbed his bed spread and threw it over Derek's head. "Don't move." He'd probably pay for that later. Stiles jumped to his feet, just as the door opened and his dad appeared. Stiles lunged forward, grabbing the door with one hand, blocking his dad from entering. "Hey, Dad. Morning."
"Did you fall out of bed?" He craned his head to see around Stiles, eyeing the pile of blankets on the floor next to his bed. Thankfully they did not move.
Stiles grinned, shifting his stance to block his dad's view further. "Yeah, I got all tangled up. Clumsy." He shrugged. "I'm fine."
His dad looked at him with a mixture of concern and disbelief. "Alright. I just wanted to let you know, I got an emergency call, so I'm leaving early."
Stiles perked up. "Yeah? Something happen?"
Stiles' dad narrowed his eyes. "Possibly. I'll know more after I get there."
If he pushed, Stiles could usually get his dad to let something slip, but at that moment he was more concerned that his dad not notice the former fugitive hiding under his blanket. "Well, good luck."
"Thanks," he started to turn away from the door, but stopped. He lifted a finger. "Don't just goof off all weekend, get some studying in too."
Stiles rolled his eyes. "Got it. All work, no fun."
The sheriff shook his head and left. Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief as he closed the door. "It's safe now", he told the pile of blankets.
The expression on Derek's face as he sat up made Stiles rethink his statement. Because as Derek stood up and stalked towards him, safe was not the prominent feeling Stiles felt.
"Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again."
Stiles held up his arms in surrender. "Hey, it's better than letting the sheriff find you in his son's bedroom... in boxer-briefs no less.” Stiles looked pointedly down.
"It was hot."
"Uh-huh. Well after you get your pants back on, I'll give you a ride back to your place." Derek looked ready to argue, but Stiles waved him off. "I'm supposed to meet Scott at the Pancake Shack for breakfast and algebra. He needs a little help studying for midterms so we're going to have an all-day study jam."
Derek made use of Stiles’ shower before they left; no running water at the Hale house after all. Seriously the guy needed a real place to live at already rather than crashing at Stiles' or renting a motel whenever he needed actual amenities or the weather got too cold or rough to stay under half a roof. Stiles really couldn't see the appeal of living in that place. Half of it was burned away, it was drafty, dark, and yeah Stiles would admit it, it was kind of spooky. Like a lot spooky. People died there. It was probably haunted. If were-wolves were real, than ghosts were not so implausible. He'd have to remember to ask Derek sometime. Anyway, the Hale House, no appeal, unless maybe you were the Addams family.
The drive to Derek's was mostly quiet. Well, Derek was quiet. Stiles wasn't good with awkward silences so he tried to fill it in with awkward (one-sided) conversation instead. He shut up abruptly though when he saw the flashing blue lights ahead.
"Stiles, stop the car."
Stiles obeyed, pulling over to the side of the road. There were cop cars all over the Hale house. The side door opened and Stiles jerked his attention to Derek who was getting out of the jeep. "You're not actually going over there?"
Derek looked at Stiles like he was the crazy one. "I was recently a murder suspect and only just got my name cleared. So no, Stiles, I am not going over there."
Stiles breathed a sigh of relief.
"You are."
Stiles pointed a finger towards himself. “Me?"
"Your dad is the sheriff. Find out what's going on. I'll meet up with you later." Derek shut the door and then he was gone.
The sheriff was never very happy to see his son pop up at crime scenes, but when it came to curiosity, Stiles never could help himself. It was a good thing he wasn't a cat.
Stiles drove up and parked behind a patrol car. As he got out and approached the house, Stiles caught a glance of a body being loaded into an ambulance. The paramedics didn't seem to be in a hurry, which usually meant one thing.
"Stiles!"
Stiles flinched at the sound of his dad's voice. He turned his head and pointed at the ambulance. "Was that a body? Did somebody die?" The only people who ever went to the Hale house, besides him, were Derek (who he'd just left), Scott (who'd just texted him from the Pancake Shack) and Jackson. Stiles hadn't gotten much of a look at the body, but it could have been a guy.
His dad's hand clamped down on his shoulder and started leading him away from the house. "You shouldn't be here. Why are you here?"
"I- was just driving by and saw the lights. What's going on? Was it an animal attack?" If there was another crazy scary werewolf running around killing people, Stiles would definitely have to talk to his dad about relocating. Stiles liked being an unofficial member of the pack and he wouldn't want to leave his friends, but seriously one psychotic serial killing werewolf a year was enough.
"You know I can't talk about an ongoing investigation."
"But Dad-" Stiles protested as his Dad opened his jeep door for him.
"But nothing... I want you out of here."
Stiles reluctantly got into the jeep. "Can you at least tell me if it’s someone I know?"
His dad's eyes softened. He shook his head. "At the moment it looks like it was an accident, so go home and don't worry about it."
"Sure, home... actually no! I'm meeting Scott." For which Stiles was going to be very late. He could already feel his phone buzzing with unread messages. "Later, Dad."
"Later, Stiles," his dad replied in an exasperated voice.
Before he left, Stiles texted Scott, ‘Dead body at the Hale house. Again.’
A short moment later he looked down to see the reply, ‘WHAT?!’
* * *
"What the hell, Stiles?" Scott snapped as Stiles slid into the booth across from him. "You text me about a dead body and then leave me hanging?"
Stiles shrugged. "I didn't have anything more to text, because I don't know anything else." He zipped open his backpack and pulled out his math book. He looked over to Scott's side of the table. "Where are your books?"
"I forgot them."
Stiles thunked his head down on the table. He really wondered about his friend sometimes. "You're kidding right? Scott the whole point of meeting was-"
"Don't change the subject," Scott interrupted. "You seriously saw a dead body at the Hale house?"
"Yeah. Sort of. I didn't get a very good look, but someone definitely died. Dad thinks it might be an accident, whatever that means. Not an animal attack, thank god."
Scott did not look any less concerned. "Who was it?"
Stiles shook his head. "I don't know. My dad sent me packing before I could find out anything."
Scott rubbed a hand over his face. "I can't believe this is happening again."
"What's happening again?"
Stiles jerked his head up to find Jackson standing over their booth. Jackson nudged Scott, who scooted over, and sat down.
"Why is he here?" Stiles glared at Scott.
Jackson answered, "I was invited."
"This was supposed to be a study session."
Jackson held up his book bag, "Which is why I brought my books."
"Great," Stiles continued to glare at Scott, "Then you can share with Scott."
"We can't study now," exclaimed Scott.
"Why not?" asked Jackson, looking between them in confusion.
"Someone was killed at Derek's." There was an edge of panic in Scott's voice.
"What? Really?" Jackson looked at Stiles for confirmation.
Stiles nodded. "Yeah, my dad got called in to work early this morning and then as I was driving Derek home we saw all the cop cars. I don't know any details though."
Jackson narrowed his eyes. Elbows on the table he leaned forward. "Why were you driving Derek home?" Scott's eyes widened for a second, as though he hadn't even thought to ask why Stiles was there to begin with (which he hadn't) and then turned to stare curiously at Stiles for an answer.
"Um," Stiles swallowed hard. Why did he feel self-conscious all of the sudden? "He- Derek- came over to my house last night after you guys left for pizza." Stiles totally hadn't forgotten about that. If Scott and Jackson were going to hang out together without Stiles, than Stiles certainly wasn't going to apologize for spending time with Derek without them. Not that ignoring each other, while Derek surfed the web and Stiles studied, really counted as spending time together.
"He went over to your place last night and you only drove him home this morning?" Jackson raised an eyebrow, smirking. Scott just looked confused.
Stiles didn't know why he was blushing. It wasn't his fault if Jackson had a dirty mind. "You're missing the big picture here. Dead body. Hale house. We don't know what happened. What if there's another werewolf in town?"
"You said it looked like an accident," Scott said accusingly.
"That's what my dad said, emphasis on 'looked'. But they were definitely treating it like a crime scene. There was yellow tape all over the place."
"Shit, what does Derek think?"
A waitress appeared with menus and Scott had the decency to look embarrassed by his language. After she left with their order, they continued in hushed voices.
"I don't know. He took off before I found out anything. He said he'd meet up with me later." Stiles looked at his phone, but there were no messages from Derek. Stiles didn't even know where they were supposed to meet up. They wouldn't be able to go back to the Hale house anytime soon.
They tried to study, but the topic of conversation always ended up back on the dead body. Who was it? How did they die? Was it someone Derek knew? Was it someone they knew? Was it a werewolf or a hunter? There were so many questions, none of which they had answers to. After a while they gave up on studying all together.
"I guess I'll go home in case Derek shows up there." Waiting around for Derek Hale to show up was not exactly how Stiles would choose to spend his weekend, but it wasn’t like he had anything else going on.
Scott nodded and walked Stiles to his jeep. "Call me as soon as you find out anything."
"Me too," said Jackson.
"Of course," Stiles smiled. That was so not going to happen. He'd let Scott fill him in.
He was halfway home when his cellphone rang. Stiles fumbled with it as he pulled over to answer. He recognized the number from the station. His dad usually used his personal cell to call Stiles though. "Hello?"
"Stiles!"
Stiles flinched at the growly voice. "Derek?"
"Your dad has arrested me. Get over here to the police station now!" Derek hung up, before Stiles could ask any questions. He blinked at the phone.
He pulled away from the curb, making a U-turn for the police station.
* * *
"Dad!" Stiles shouted across the police station. A few heads turned, including his dad's, who had been signing something on a clip board held out by a uniformed officer. The sheriff took one look at his son then rolled his eyes up with an expression that said why me? Stiles ran up to him, skidding across the linoleum as he tried to come to a halt. Sherriff Stilinski caught his arm. The officer holding the clipboard just raised his brows and walked away. "Why are you here? You know I'm working a case."
Stiles bent over trying to catch his breath. "Is it... true? You arrested Derek... Hale?"
"How do you even know that? We just-" Sherriff Stilinski raised his hand. "Actually? I don't want to know. Go home, Stiles."
Stiles ignored him, following his dad as he walked between the rows of desks. "So you did arrest him."
"No, we brought him in for questioning."
"I thought you said it was an accident?"
"That's not conclusive yet." The sheriff stopped outside his office.
Stiles folded his arms. "If you're just questioning Derek, then why do you still have him in custody?"
Sherriff Stilinski folded his arms, mirroring Stiles' stance. "He's been... uncooperative."
Stiles dropped his arms. "How so?"
"He refuses to tell us his whereabouts between 11 and 2am which is the estimated time of death our medical examiner gave us."
Crap. Derek had been with Stiles that whole time. His dad was going to kill him when he found out. And probably ground him for next century. "Yeah, there's probably a reason for that," Stiles said nervously.
"Well I'd sure like to know what that reason is."
Taking a deep breath, Stiles said it quickly before he could change his mind, "Derekwaskindofwithmeallnight." Stiles flinched in anticipation of his dad's response.
Sherriff Stilinski blinked slowly. "Say that again."
Slower, Stiles said, "Dad. Derek was with me all night. So he couldn't have had anything to do with whatever happened."
His dad's expression darkened like a sudden thunder cloud appearing overhead. He grabbed Stiles' arm painfully and dragged him into his office, slamming the door shut. "What do you mean Derek Hale was with you last night?"
"He was with me." Stiles folded his arms again, looking off to the side. Barely a whisper he added, "In my room. All night."
"Derek Hale, legal adult and former murder suspect, was in your bedroom, with you, all night?"
Stiles wandered over to his dad's desk. He picked up a paperweight. "Yeah." He tossed the paperweight between his hands. "So you see he couldn't have killed anyone. Well, he could have, but not last night." Stiles grinned lopsidedly.
Sherriff Stilinski grabbed the paperweight mid-air and set it back on his desk. He rubbed a hand over his forehead like he had a headache coming on. "Please tell me this is a really ill thought out joke."
"Sorry?" Stiles really hated disappointing his dad. He felt like he always was though.
Sherriff Stilinski leaned against his desk. "How long has this been going on?"
"Um, a while?" Stiles shrugged.
Sherriff Stilinski closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. "My teenage son has been having sex with a former fugitive and murder suspect." His eyes shot open, head turning sharply to stare at his son. "Really, Stiles?" He was nearly shouting. "Of all the people... Derek Hale?"
Stiles’ mind was still stuck on sex with Derek Hale. "Wait! Dad, we're not- That's not-"
His dad held up a finger. "No, don't speak. Don't say a word."
"But-"
"Not a word, Stiles."
He took Stiles by the shoulders and led him out of the office and down to the interrogation rooms. He opened the door, pushing Stiles in first. Derek lifted his head from his arms folded on the table and, at the sight of the sheriff, sat up straighter in the metal chair.
"Mr. Hale," his dad said, "Luckily for you my son has given you an alibi."
Derek looked relieved. He stood up.
"You can go," the sheriff continued. Derek started towards the door. "But," he added and Derek paused. "We will need to have a talk about this soon. Very soon." There was an edge of a threat in his voice. Stiles hung his head in embarrassment. Derek was going to kill Stiles, if his dad didn't do it first. "Come by my house after seven tonight. You know the way. Apparently."
Derek turned to look at Stiles, but Stiles refused to meet his gaze. He left without saying goodbye. Sherriff Stilinski leaned in close to Stiles' ear. "You are in so much trouble. You have no idea."
Sadly, Stiles did.