The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.
He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.
He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.
Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.
“Who is that?” he asked quietly.
“That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”
Bookmarked by JuliaShadow
12 May 2020
Stiles remembers being 15 and realizing for the first time that the way Derek made him feel - fenetic with energy and bursting at the seams - was something more than, something Stiles didn’t have a name for. Now, it feels like love, but even on a good day Stiles isn’t really sure what that means when he applies that to someone who’s not Scott.
- Part 1 of Roman Candle Hearts
Prompt fill from lycantrophies:
you know this whole lunar eclipse thing screams for a fic in a 5+1 style or whatever
each part featuring a different lunar eclipse
featuring stiles trying out all the things on derek that he can’t do on a regular day
After all, Stiles doesn’t mention that time Derek went grief-stricken and ran away from humanity, or the two or three times Derek has talked Stiles down from a panic attack, no big gestures or dramatics, just slow steady words until the overwhelming crushing anxiety eased some, or that time Stiles dug a bullet out of Derek’s stomach, swearing and sweating and cursing him and maybe crying a little, or that time with the evil, nasty little gnomes.
There’s a lot they don’t talk about. This is just another thing to add to the list.
OR: Derek and Stiles get kidnapped. Or more accurately, Stiles gets kidnapped and Derek gets kidnapped looking for him, although he'll never tell Stiles that. Angst and a little violence ensures.
Stiles hadn’t been in Beacon Hills in five years, hadn’t seen Derek in nearly as long, when he got the text:
New number: (+530) 365-2421
An abundance of overeating and geekery, dangerous caffeine/sugar cereal addictions, surprise werewolves, bird insults, purple-eyed shrimp, reincarnated serial killers (it's cool, he has a leash), poorly played professional baseball, and a love story. In that order.
Bookmarked by JuliaShadow
16 Aug 2016