Title: Staring into the sun
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Pairing(s), Character(s): Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Alan Deaton, Peter Hale, Bobby Finstock, Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey, Jackson Whittemore, Danny Mahealani, Laura Hale, "Hit-Girl" Mindy Macready, Sergeant Greg Parker, mentions of others
Rating: Teen and Up?
Summary: X-Men like AU
Our protagonists are attending Beacon Hills Academy, an institution for 'specials'. They've been detected early on, and some of them are showing spectacular abilities already. The Hales are a genetic mystery all together. Stiles, however, despite having being singled out as a kid, is nothing special. And he knows it.
Circumstances and people – read Peter – conspire to put Stiles and Derek together. Changes ensue.
Then all hell breaks loose.
There are two characters guest staring from other fandoms. One from KickAss, one from Flashpoint. You do not need to have seen the movie or tv show to understand this fic, and it does not contain spoilers for either of them.
Spoilers for Teen Wolf are very few, since it's an AU. Mostly characters from S2 and relationships.
Spoilers/Warnings: There are two characters guest staring from other fandoms. One from KickAss, one from Flashpoint. You do not need to have seen the movie or tv show to understand this fic, and it does not contain spoilers for either of them.
Spoilers for Teen Wolf are very few, since it's an AU. Mostly characters from S2 and relationships.
Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm just playing. I'll give them back. Maybe. If and when I'm done.
First part | Previous part
He misses the show by seconds when walks into the locker rooms. Derek is buttoning his jeans and Stiles briefly wonders if anyone – aside from the morning practices for Lacrosse players – else ever exercises. “We gotta stop running into each other like that. People will talk,” he says, trying for smooth and casual joking.
Derek smirks but doesn't turn to face him fully. Of course he knew he was there. “People are already talking.”
He looks up then and Stiles blushes. He doesn't know if it's the look Derek gives him or the truth in the statement. He clears his throat and heads to his locker.
“You've been training again.” Stiles looks back to find Derek tapping his nose and nods in acknowledgment. “Went okay?”
“Yeah. I guess.” He doesn't set any goals. He's not sure what they would be. He watches Derek towel off his hair because he's pretty sure he can't see through that much fabric. God, he wants to get a closer look at that tattoo. Like, close enough to lick, if possible. “You didn't ask me what it was,” he thinks aloud more than speaks. “That I do. What it is that I do, I mean.” Smooth, Stiles. Very literate.
Derek peers at him, his hair all over the place, spiked with water and looking as much as a sex god as ever. “You don't want to tell me.” It doesn't sound hurt. It's a simple statement.
It makes Stiles feel bad, however. Not because keeping his secret could hurt people's feelings and make them feel distrusted, but because he's been unable to let go of it and share it for so long. It feels lame, somehow. Like he's been building it up into something that will unavoidably be disappointing.
In the words of the great philosopher Xander Harris 'Big overture. Liiittle show.'.
“Maybe... maybe one day I'll show you.” He means it as a joke. Or not, because it's not actually funny, but he's not serious. But Derek nods, the corner of his lips twitching just before he turns away like he's trying to hide that it made him smile and Stiles is fucked.
He'll show him anything. He'll fucking do a rain dance for him if it gets Derek to smile.
Oh boy, he's got it bad.
“What do you mean you didn't get sprinkles?!” Mindy squeaks.
Stiles looks at Scott in offense. “Dude. What's with the improv?”
“It's not improv, Stiles!” Scott glares at his best friend without any real heat to it. “They were out of sprinkles. So I got jelly.”
“Hey, if you don't want them, I can always keep them to myself.”
Stiles says “Yeah, right.” just as Mindy lets out a pointed “As if.”. Scott shakes his head to hide his smiles and lets his friends dig into the box of doughnuts.
“It's weird how they're always out of sprinkles when you're on the supply run.” Mindy muses, a wicked twinkle in her eye that Stiles catches.
“They're not actually suppl-...”
“It's not weird.” Stiles interrupts. “It's mathematical. He always gets there too late.”
“That's right. If only, like one time, you and your girlfriend didn't stop to have sex on the way.”
Scott makes a sound like he wants to deny it, but the beautiful shade of fuchsia his face is turning renders any attempt moot.
“Sex in the car, really? I mean, I get it, but... it has to get old, right?” Mindy asks him, deadpan.
“You know what gets old?” Stiles leans on his elbow and puts on a commiserating mask. “Parking at the exact same spot every time. It's a car! You could go anywhere! But no, every time you chose a spot barely outside of school. Like say, first dirt road on the left after the back exit? You know what's special about that dirt road, Mindy?” Stiles teases, watching his best friend decompose rapidly.
“No, I don't.” Yes, she does. “What is it?”
“It happens to sandwich a strip of woods between it and the school grounds. Woods I often run in.”
“Oh, god.” Scott covers his face.
“Yes. You do say it a lot too, you know, during...”
“Oh, my god, Stiles!!”
Stiles smirks, and shrugs.
Scott's face is priceless. “Who else knows?!”
“Well, there's me. And, dude, I've seen your naked butt before but, please, never again in action. Go park somewhere else.”
“There's probably Derek, because I know for a fact he runs those tracks too and you and Allison are in such a heat that-...”
“Okay, okay! So, Derek. You. And you.” He eyes Mindy. “Is that all?”
“Depends on how talkative Old Hale is about the sex lives of his students.”
“He runs in the woods, too.”
Scott sinks onto the tabletop. Mindy picks up another doughnut. “How did you even know, Mindy?”
“This isn't jelly. This is Nutella.” Mindy says around her mouthful. “Which I'll forgive, because it's kind of awesome.” She swallows, licks her lips while giving Scott a considering look. She decides he doesn't look properly scarred yet. “Maybe I was looking for a place to park, too.”
“Ow.” Scott digs the heels of his hands into his eye sockets in an attempt to block the mental image. Stiles laughs and pats his shoulder. Alright, Torture Scott Time is over. He's been a pain about Allison's parents for a few days, and he messed up with the pastries again, but he's always there when Stiles needs to be annoying for a few days so... Fair's fair. Besides, he loves Scott like a brother. Torturing him, even with teasing, is always a little painful.
“Did someone say Nutella?”
Lydia's voice asked, therefore Stiles is confused when he looks up and sees Derek approaching the table. Then he follows Derek's gaze and sees the strawberry blonde bouncing her curls until she can get a look inside the greasy box. Mindy pokes it closer to her.
“Can I? I can spring for the next one if you want?” Lydia offers, eying the doughnuts like she's been starving for days.
Derek hovers where he's stopped in his tracks, looking uncertain.
“Hey, Derek.” Mindy greets casually, like Lydia and him joining in on MMESR – Monday Morning Emergency Supply Run – is a common occurrence.
He looks encouraged by the acknowledgment and steps closer. “Hey.”
Lydia gives him a smile, Stiles and Scott nod. It's new, it's not exactly awkward. It could become so fast, however, but Derek seems unaware of it. He's watching Lydia as she's examining the pastries, hand hesitating. “Not that one,” he says, as she's about to make her choice. “The one on the left – your left.”
She gives him a narrow eyed look and follows his directions. She takes a bite, moans and licks her lips. She beams at him. “Nice party trick.”
He looks amused by the idea. “I'll keep that in mind.”
Stiles watches the other students in the common room start to shuffle out sluggishly and looks up at Derek, a plea in his eyes. “Tell me it's not time for class already?”
Derek puts on a solemn face like he's about to announce a terminal diagnosis. “M'afraid it is.”
Stiles whines, but pushes off the bench and grabs the shoulder strap of his bag. Scott startles and starts gathering his stuff in a hurry. Mindy offers the last doughnut to Derek and tosses the box. Lydia examines her manicure.
“Is good old Uncle Peter going to be mean to us again?” Stiles asks.
“I dunno. To you, maybe.” Derek shrugs, a hint of teasing in his voice.
“What?” Derek bites into the doughnut – powered sugar. “I held up my end of the deal.” He says and licks the white dust off his mouth, missing a spot on his lower lip.
Stiles gets distracted. He thinks of all the 'sweet kisses' and 'give me some sugar' jokes he could make if his fantasies were true. It takes him a few seconds too long to come up with a snarky reply, so he settles on a groan and a shrug. It has the bonus side effect of making Derek huff quietly. Stiles has grown pretty sure that's how he laughs.
Lydia pats Scott's shoulder when he watches the exchange forlornly. “Don't worry. He still loves you more,” she says. “You're the only one he's told what he can do, yet.”
“He's got a new best friend.”
“Don't be an idiot.” Lydia stares at him like he's grown a new head. “I don't know why he thinks so, but you're irreplaceable to him.” She looks back at Derek and Stiles. They've stopped a few feet ahead and are waiting for the group to be complete to amble on to class. “Besides, I'm thinking of another kind of prefix before 'friend'.”
Lydia ignores Scott's confusion in favor of meeting Derek's eyes when he looks her way, clearly showing he's heard her. She ducks a challenging eyebrow, daring him to confirm or contradict her statement. He uses one of her own tricks on her and gives her a cryptic half smile instead.
-Fair enough, lone wolf. Fair enough.- Although, not so lone anymore.
“Dude.” Stiles says, catching the exchange of looks. “Are you guys talking?” He glares accusingly at the red head. “Hey, this is our thing!”
“I don't know what you're talking about.” Lydia says, smirking in a way that belies her statement completely.
“What are you talking about?” Scott says.
“What wereyou talking about?” Stiles asks, rounding back on Derek.
He considers, looking over Stiles' face for the right phrasing, then smirking back at Lydia. “Semantics.”
When they get to class, Old Hale isn't in yet. Which is unusual, but not unheard off. This veer into odd territory when he still hasn't shown up fifteen minutes later. Stiles stops chatting with Scott for a second to catch Derek's expression as he shifts in his seat to glance at the door one more time. He looks worried.
Stiles wonders if he should be. It's uncommon, but it doesn't mean anything bad is going on. Maybe the copy machine is jammed again – Allison saved the day, last time –, or Peter forgot he's got a small bladder and had to make a pit stop on the way. Maybe-... Finstock and Deaton enter the classroom. Stiles decides it's time to get worried.
“Good. You guys stay here.” Finstock says. “Well, uh, except-...”
“Students under eighteen. Please step out of the room. Classes have been canceled for the day, you are free to go back to the common areas.” Deaton says calmly. Finstock looks relieved he took over.
The pupils exchange uncomprehending glances, but before anyone can ask, the teachers have already left the room. “What's going on?” Jackson hisses at Derek. Most always assume he'll know more because of his filiation with Old Hale.
Derek shakes his head and pulls out his phone, looks down at it with a frown. “Anyone else has bars?”
Stiles panics a little bit when he sees he has no reception and can read on neighboring faces that they're all experiencing the same thing.
“They're jamming the signal.” Boyd says, flexing his fingers. “I can feel it.” Allison nods to comfirm.
“So has to contain information. And panic.” Lydia assumes. Stiles inwardly agrees, even if it brings bad scenarios to his mind.
“That can't be good.” Scott says.
“Something's up.” Erica summarizes.
They all look at the door when other people walk in. The oldest kids from other classes. They're gathering everybody over eighteen. Stiles glances sideways at Scott, hoping to reassure himself, but his best friend looks as lost as he feels. He really wishes he was a girl right now, so it could be socially acceptable to just reach out and hold someone's hand. It wouldn't do anything, but Stiles is pretty sure it could help settle his nerves. He hates not knowing what's happening.
“Hello everybody.” Peter says from amongst the flow of students walking in. “Settle down, everyone. We'll be a minute more. All your questions will be answered in a jiff.”
Derek meets his uncle's eyes, but the older man gives him a contrite look that clearly means 'Sorry, buddy. You're gonna have to wait like the others.'.
Stiles tries to stave off the panic attack he feels coming. He's been in worse situations. He's been held underwater. He's had to swim for more than two hours in an underground water tank waiting to be rescued, alone with the prospect of drowning in a waste management facility. He's been faced with a mecha giant – because apparently, bad guys can also be nerds.
But not knowing has always been insufferable. That's why he had a nightlight until he started sleeping in a dorm room and had to switch to books on tape and ear-buds so as to not keep Scott up. That's why he's staved off telling people about his ability for fear of whatever would happen. The unknown is terrifying.
He focuses on something. Something random. Like Derek's bouncing knee.
Wait. Derek is bouncing his leg.
Derek Hale, monster of stoicism and statue like immobility is bouncing. His. Leg.
Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.
This is so not helping.
Deaton and Finstock come back in along with other teachers. It's not the complete staff team – the other half are probably containing the rest of the students –, but it makes the moment feel official and... about to begin. They seem to have a heated whispered debate on who should be talking to the kids. At some point Old Hale's snaps angrily and glances at his nephew over his shoulder – Derek looks away immediately –, probably reminding them of eavesdropping abilities. In reaction, a few reach out and push him towards the students. He huffs and glares, but takes the floor.
“Alright everyone. We have a situation.” He purses his lips and rocks on his heels. “Who's heard of Fort Longview?”
He's kidding, right? Stiles has time to think before the potential meaning hits him.
Fort Longview. As in, the Federal High Security Penitentiary.