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Tyler glared at the last pages staring up at him mockingly. If he’d known this was what was going to happen, he never would have taken the movie. Running a hand through his hair in agitation, he grabbed his cell off the counter and went to pour a glass of whiskey.
“Hey,” he said brokenly into the phone. “Are you still in L.A.?”
“Yeah, what’s up?” the voice said.
“Can you come by? I really need to talk to you.”
There was a pause and shuffle of what sounded like papers from the other side of the line. “Yeah, give me an hour? It’ll take that long to get across town.”
“I’ll be here.”
Tyler opened the door on a slightly disheveled looking Dylan. The man’s hair was smooshed down under a Met’s cap and there was at least two-days growth on his face.
“Sorry man,” he said, waving at himself. “Just got in from an overtime shoot."
“Not an issue, come in.”
“So, what’s going on? You sounded stressed on the phone.”
Tyler waved him to one of the couches in the living room, waiting until he’d gotten comfortable before handing him the script.
Dylan glanced down in surprise. “You know you shouldn’t be showing me this?” he said slowly, raising his head to glance at Tyler.
The other man reached over his shoulder and flipped to the last ten pages, tapping at a section and grimacing.
“Just read, O’Brien.”
He headed towards the sideboard, pouring them two glasses. He knew immediately when Dylan got to the section from the bit off curse.
“You cannot be serious,” he snapped, eyes jerking up to meet Tyler’s. Tyler handed over the glass, watching as Dylan threw it back, his face twisting up in a grimace as it burned the back of his throat. “What the hell, man?”
“I know,” Tyler groaned, dropping into the seat across from him. “Believe me, if I had known before signing, I wouldn’t have.”
“It’s like none of them have a cohesive thought in their heads,” Dylan muttered. “I’m not going to even discuss Void, but to have Derek burn in front of his kid?!” he shook his head. “That’s so fucked up and the fans are going to destroy it in the reviews.”
“Not to mention the fanfiction,” Tyler said with a small smile. Dylan threw his head back, laughing. It was a thing they did, send each other their favorite fanfiction for the fun of it.
“You’ve already started filming, right?” Dylan asked.
“Yeah, otherwise I’d renegotiate, or just leave. You had the right idea, Dylan, not coming back.”
Dylan sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “It’s not like I didn’t want to, man. Well, not like I didn’t want to work with you guys again, anyway. But let’s be real, after the nogitsune arc, it just wasn’t the same.”
Tyler groaned. He agreed. Everything after that was just…well, it was bad. They tried, but an actor only has so much control, and they were all doing other projects as well. “I know you didn’t want to get involved, because of Arden, but you’re the only one I could think of that might have some idea of how to fix this.”
Dylan tossed the script onto the coffee table between them in disgust and scrubbed his hands over his face. “You know, it’d serve Jeff right if we just went off script and fucked with the ending.” He snorted. “How much would his head explode if I just showed up on set one day and started hanging out with Vince in the background? That kid is so Sterek’s it’s not even funny, and I love you man, for making sure he was the one chosen to play Eli.”
Tyler sat forward, his eyes sparking with mischief. “That’s not a bad idea,” he said slowly. “What if we just, I don’t know, had you run in and toss me off the stump or something?”
Dylan’s eyes lit up. “And I kept my eyes closed the entire time, and only afterwards, I opened them to look at you, and I was wearing red contacts.”
Tyler laughed out loud. “And you gave Derek that shit eating smirk you always wore and said, ‘I’m the Alpha now.’” He snorted, “Jeff would shit himself.”
“He also wouldn’t be able to edit it out, because that’s supposed to be the last day of filming, right? If we walk, there’s absolutely no way for him to finish the movie without us.”
Tyler’s smile was just as devious as his friends’ when it came, but he was no longer feeling like his life was out of control. He held up a fist, smiling brightly when the other’s connected. “You are one devious man, O’Brien,” he said, smirking. “I like it.”
Derek hit the ground hard, his breath exploding out of his lungs as Eli raced across the clearing to his side.
“Dad?” he asked worriedly.
Derek placed his hand over his sons on his shoulder, staring into Beta gold eyes. “I’m fine, kid, promise.”
The pair glanced back to the Nemeton. The man standing atop it had Void on his knees, bright red hoodie glowing in the Hellfire as he bent over the Nogitsune.
“I told you what I’d do if you ever came for my Pack,” Stiles snarled, eyes closed as he bent closer. “What I’d do if you came for my family.”
“You can’t do anything to me,” Void growled lowly, his voice like gravel.
“You were wrong once before, asshole,” Stiles said darkly, opening glowing red eyes to stare the monster in the face. He forced the Hellfire down Void’s throat, grinning widely to show off a mouthful of fangs. His claws piercing the fox’s shoulders hard enough to draw blood.
“And you’re wrong now!” he punctuated the sentence by slamming the fox to the stump and pinning him there as his soul was burnt out of him. When the only thing left of the nogitsune was a pile of ash swirling around Stiles’ knees as he panted heavily.
“Stiles?” Derek said slowly as Eli helped him to his feet.
Stiles’ shoulders tensed as he turned, flashing red eyes at Derek and Eli. “Hey ya, Sourwolf,” he said, smirking. “Guess who’s the Alpha now?”
Dylan leaned against Tyler’s shoulder, laughing silently as they watched Jeff pace back and forth ranting. “Is it wrong that I am absolutely loving watching him lose his shit over this?” he asked breathlessly, wiping tears from his eyes.
Vince dropped down beside the pair, long legs stretched out in front of him. “You two are evil,” he said smirking. “And that was so much better than the train wreck Jeff wrote.”
Tyler nodded, throwing an arm over the two men’s shoulders as they sat close together. “You know the lawyers are going to have a field day with this,” he warned.
“Worth it,” Dylan said, leaning more of his weight against his friend. “I’ll even refrain from being listed in the credits. I honestly don’t care, but there was no way I was gonna let you burn, dude.”
“Yeah, dad,” Vince quipped, his eyes dancing in amusement. “Listen to Tata.”
Dylan snorted, leaning around Tyler to rub a hand through the younger man’s messy hair. “Yeah, Tyler, listen to our kid, he’s got my smarts you know?”
Tyler rolled his eyes at the two. “And this is why we all agreed you two should never meet,” he groused.
“Eh, the minute he wore a flannel in that photoshoot, he was mine,” Dylan waved away Tyler’s argument, bumping his fist with Vince as he snickered.
“So, what’s next?” Vince asked after a while.
The two men glanced at each other, smiles flirting around their lips before they stood, dragging Vince up between them.
“I say we give the fans some hope,” Dylan said. “You ever been to a Dodger’s game, kid?”
Tyler chuckled. “They’re not as good as the Mets of course…”
Dylan gave him a hurt look, slapping at the man’s chest. “Bite your tongue, Hoechlin, the Met’s are awesome!”
“Yes, dear,” Tyler said laughingly. He pulled Dylan against him, his lips brushing the man’s ear. “And thanks, Dylan, for everything.”
Dylan glanced up, his face open and sincere. “Anytime, dude. Anytime.”
-end-