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bed


Stiles had gotten more sleep the night before than he'd thought he would.  Any at all is more when you'd expected none.

He was glad he'd found the Hales.  They understood what he'd needed better than he did. 

He'd never given much thought to being an only child, but Laura had firmly established herself as big sister.  He was happy he didn't have Derek's history with her.  She was merciless in her teasing of both of them.  Peter had tried to feed him everything in the kitchen while asking every question he could think of about werewolves and the supernatural.  Derek had thrown in a few of his own and Stiles found he didn't mind being their very own supernatural wiki.

Laura hadn't asked any questions because she'd known about Melissa and Scott.  That little fact had not gone over well with Derek and Peter.  Derek because he couldn't believe Laura had kept something that big from him.  Peter because, apparently, he'd never met a conspiracy theory he didn't embrace like a long lost lover.  Though Stiles had the feeling Peter liked the absurdity factor more than any real belief.

"Think you could eat some breakfast?" asked Derek.

"No, but I did make some toast earlier.  Look, I appreciate the thought, but you guys don't have to come to the service.  Melissa and Scott will be there.  I think Scott will be there.  I'd like Scott to be there.  I don't remember a time when we weren't friends.  Mom used to swear my word was Scott.  Or no depending on her mood when she told the story."

"You did notice Laura adopting you, right?"

"Kinda hard to miss," said Stiles, smiling.

"There's no way we're going to let you go through this alone.  And, yeah, I know.  You have Melissa and Scott and I'm glad, but you have me now too.  Us.  You have us now too."

Derek ducked his head while color rose in his cheeks.  Stiles gently kicked at his foot until he looked up again.  Stiles looked him straight in the eye and said, "I know and I'm glad abut that too.  That doesn't mean that I'm sorry about invading your normal world."

"I'm not."

They were still standing and smiling at each other when Peter walked in.  Smirking was really not a good look on him.

On the plus side, his entrance gave them something else to look at when Laura walked in.  If Peter's smirk was annoying, Stiles really didn't want to know what Laura's looked like.  If he got really curious, he could always ask Derek.

"Stiles, shotgun.  Derek, driver's side back seat."

Stiles touched Peter's arm before he got in the SUV.  "Is she always this bossy?"

"Usually she just glares.  I think she's only using words for your benefit."

"I heard that!"

"Am I wrong?"

"Just get in."

"Please get in.  Don't leave me alone in here with her," Derek pleaded from the back seat.

"You can walk, you know."

"Getting in," chimed Stiles and Peter.

~*~*~*

Chris poured his second cup of coffee before heading out to the office.  It was his favorite part of his morning ritual.  Victoria and Allison were off to work and school respectively and he had the house to himself.  An island of quiet before the maelstrom of the sheriff's department.

"Morning, son."

And a good day goes bad in the space of a heartbeat.

"Gerard."

"Got enough left for your old man?"

"Plenty in the pot.  Help yourself.  I'm heading out."

Chris put his mostly full cup in the sink, taking care to stay out of Gerard's way.  He was almost to the door when Gerard spoke.

"You going to the bitch's funeral?"

Chris stopped, fists clenched at his sides, glad he was too far away from Gerard to hit him.  He doubted his ability to stop if he ever started.

He didn't turn around as he answered, "I am going to Anna Stilinski's funeral."

"Give my regards to her son."

Gerard was a predator plain and simple.  No wolf had anything on him, were or otherwise.  Chris had had a front row seat to the manipulations that turned his baby sister into a cold-blooded murderer.  He thanked God and any and every other deity that may or may not be exist that his mother been around as long as she had as a balance to Gerard's brand of crazy.

"Or maybe I'll just pay my respects in person.  Let the kid know I'm still keeping a close watch on Beacon Hills.  Wouldn't want him getting any ideas about territory."

"It's not like he has any reason to stay after the funeral.  His life's in LA now."

"His pack is still here though.  You know how they get about things like that."

"Not really that different than a normal human about their family."

He knew his father well enough to know he was up to something.  Gerard's interest in Anna Stilinski's funeral – her son – was disturbing.  As was the coincidence that Gerard hadn't been around as much since her death.  But of course he hadn't had anything to do with it.  That was all on Michael McCall and if there was one thing Chris could take comfort in where his father was concerned, it was that Gerard would rather die than have any dealings with a werewolf.  Especially Michael McCall.

"Normal?  Do you even know what normal is?  Of course you don't.  Normal doesn't exist.  It's a fairy tale people tell to make themselves feel better for not being extraordinary."

"Do you ever listen to yourself?  If you're what passes for extraordinary, I have no problem with fairy tales.  Do yourself a favor and don't show up the service.  It's my duty and my pleasure to keep the peace in this town.  Are we clear?"

"Crystal.  Wouldn't want my dog allergy to kick in anyway.  Keep in mind that you keep the peace in this town at the voter's pleasure.  Who knows when that might change?  Tell Victoria I'll be back late.  No reason to wait dinner."

Gerard smiled his predator's smile and went upstairs.  He was apparently done with the kind befuddled grandfather act at least with Chris.

He willed away the gnawing, falling feeling in his stomach.  Surely Gerard was just planning some way of bringing Kate back to town permanently.  Allison loved her aunt and she didn't know she needed to be careful around Kate.  Kate the true believer.  Kate, Gerard's perfect soldier.  Kate the Killer.

Allison would never be like Kate.