Black Water ↠ Stiles Stilinski [Teen Wolf, Vol. One]

Lonely Is The Night

Disclaimer: 'Teen Wolf' isn't mine. Shocking, right? But it's true. If there are any similarities in content or dialogue, it has probably originated with the show.

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Hey, guys. So sorry for the long wait on this one. As people who follow my tumblr blog might know, I had to scramble for a new apartment so it's been a month of stress and moving, but I got settled into my new place yesterday, and I am back with a new chapter. I hope you enjoy, and reviews/comments are always appreciated!

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Chapter 28 - Lonely Is The Night

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"Derek?!"

Stiles's face contorted with such contempt, that his lips managed to shape the word was nothing short of miraculous. It hung between them, lingering heavy in the air like a stranger's wet sneeze or the smell of a stadium restroom. Or, given the predilection for silent lurking, like Derek himself. Confronted with Stiles's slack-jawed disbelief, Charlie widened her eyes and jerked a quick nod. At this, Stiles's jaw all but unhinged itself. "O—okay." He began to pace a hundred yard dash back and forth in front of his Jeep. "Let me just—let me just get this straight. We've established that werewolves exist. We've established that it is currently the full moon. And you want to—what? Go out and find one of them? What are you going to do—hang out and sing a karaoke duet?"

Charlie rolled her eyes. "That would hardly be productive given current events."

"Seriously, Charlie, come on! It's like you're actively trying to think of the worst possible idea."

"Stiles," Charlie reasoned. "You've got to calm down."

The pacing stopped at the seventy-five meter mark. He turned abruptly to face her. "Calm d—calm down?!" Are you actually telling me to calm down right now? The alpha's out killing people, Scott's on the loose, and my da—!" His voice fractured under the strain. Glassy tears formed at the corners of his eyes. He swiped them away with his thumb. "My dad's out there right now. He has no clue what's going on—he has no idea how to protect himself. I'm not seeing any reason to 'calm down'."

Charlie pressed her hands to her head, pushing hair from her face. She began nodding before she could meet Stiles's eyes. "Yeah, pretty much every sucks right now. It's a goddamn mess. That's not up for dispute. But how exactly will Derek make anything worse? Scott saw him during a full moon before—how was he acting?"

Stiles's reluctance showed in his pursed lips and clenched jaw, but he answered nonetheless. "Scott said Derek was in total control," he admitted. "He wasn't wolfed out or anything—just his usual curmudgeon-y, quiet, stare-y, pain-in-the-ass normal self."

Charlie's nodding steadied into a slow bob. "Alright. So in that insanely long list of adjectives you threw out, nowhere did I hear 'dangerous' or 'homicidal'." Stiles gave an exasperated sigh, but she held up a hand to silence him. "Look, I know how much we'd like to deal with this on our own. Really, I do. But let's face it, we don't have what it takes. And that doesn't mean we're not two remarkable human specimens, because we are, but we are human. When we bleed, we stay bleeding. And right now, that's not enough. We need someone to make this—us—enough. And right now that someone is Derek."

Stiles's eyes glowed with defiance, but his shoulders slumped and he folded his arms across his chest. Given his figure's fundamental elasticity, it was strange when he chose to make himself small. As he fell back against the Jeep, defeat in his posture, she knew that he knew she was right. The two of them...they were logistics and backup. Maybe even the brains of the operation if they were feeling particularly egotistical. A necessary part of the team, but never on the front line. They were too breakable. If they shattered, the world didn't hold enough superglue to put them to rights.