How often was Stiles Stilinski invited to a party? Like, a real party, with his classmates, and all the ‘beautiful’ people? He couldn’t actually remember a time when he’d been actively invited. Sure, he knew it was because Scott had put a good word in for him among the high school elite (it was difficult for him to be a star player and not have some sway with those of a higher class), but Stiles was just glad to have somewhere to go on a Friday night that didn’t involve being chased all over Beacon Hills by werewolves, or else werewolf hunters, and wondering whether or not you were going to survive the night.
No, Stiles liked being certain that he was going to fall down into bed that night, and wake up bright and early on Saturday for a whole day filled with video games, or maybe just grabbing a burger from the joint down the road, and remembering how calm and peaceful it once was not to have a life at all.
The road was slick, and the air was cold, and it had been raining all day long. What time wasn’t spent shouting at Scott that sneaking to see Allison while her parents were out was not a fantastic idea, that they should stick to meeting in far more remote locales, Stiles had worked on his Jeep, which had failed to start after school. It had taken some tinkering, and plenty of swearing, but eventually, he’d been able to head home, get changed, and then wait until nearly nine o’clock before he thought it was safe to venture out.
Friday night traffic was not as heavy as usual as he held his cell phone up to follow its strangely round about directions to get to the huge mansion on the other side of town where he hoped to have some variety of fun that didn’t include being Scott’s wing man.
It was the sound of the police scanner in his passenger’s seat coming alive that made Stiles do a double take as he sat at a red light, banging his head against his steering wheel as he realized he was lost. Again.
“Unit five we have a ten-eighteen on Isaac Lahey, all units respond to fifteen-hundred Chestnut,” came the voice of the dispatcher. Stiles straightened his neck, his eyes turning to the radio, his mouth going slightly slack at the name. He knew Isaac was wanted, and the sound of the address where the old train station was that the little wolf pack was hanging out at surprised Stiles a little.
He was aware Derek had been attempting to keep their little clan a secret, and Stiles and Scott had obliged by mostly leaving them alone, save for driving by occasionally after school. But according to the dispatcher, they were about to arrest Isaac. Which meant they were about to crash the old wolf party, and possibly send Derek into a full on Alpha rage. Not that Stiles really thought he would actually hurt anyone. But after the incidents with the last Alpha, and the more recent ones with Scott, and the fact that his dad was on duty that night, well—
The sound of a loudly blowing horn and shouting behind him made Stiles jump, slam his foot on the gas and jack rabbit through the, now yellow, light.
His jeep roared along the road until he came to an empty parking lot where he could squeal his tires and turn around.
“Oh, God, I can’t believe I’m doing this…” he muttered to himself as he waved a hand out of his window to signal to the man flying up his ass that he was coming out into traffic. The horn that followed him down the dark, empty road faded as he picked up the police scanner and turned the sound up, holding it to his ear as he drove. His eyes darted from rear view mirrors to the road in front of him, illuminated by his old head lights.
He took three shortcuts to bypass traffic lights, and by the time he began to gain on the old train station, he could only let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding to see that there were no flashing red and blue lights. The thought of his dad flying up in there thinking he was going to make an arrest only to be met with four pissed off werewolves, frightened Stiles far more than running into their little camp in the middle of the night, shouting for the Alpha, while they were probably sleeping, or having some weird canine orgy—okay, maybe that scared him quite a bit, too.
The Jeep’s tires squealed on the pavement as he parked a street over to avoid it being seen by the cops when they inevitably came around. He pulled his keys from the ignition, grabbed the scanner, and began hoofing it to the forbidding old station.
The bottom of his jeans were immediately soaked by the water on the road, and bled dark trails up the back of his calves that made him shiver. He tucked the police scanner into his pocket as he came within the confines of the not-very-well-kempt chain link fence around the overgrown station property.
He stopped short of the boarded up front entrance, trying to guess where he would enter if he were a werewolf.
Up the side back of the building was an old, rusted fire escape, and Stiles didn’t think he had time to have an internal monologue about the potential dangers of running up the metal.
“Damn it,” he muttered as he grabbed the rusty handle, held his breath, and ran noisily up it, feeling the stairs trembling, and hearing them squeal beneath his weight. He was only glad they hadn’t fallen down by the time he reached the top landing, and could push into the unsecured second level door.
Inside the ugly, dark, and smelly station, Stiles had come out onto an upstairs walkway of some kind that overlooked the larger downstairs. He blinked several times in the darkness, expecting any moment to be overtaken by one of Derek’s puppies.
“H-hey?” he called into the darkness, in hopes that announcing himself might be the better option to having his intestines torn out. He blinked down into the darkness, but saw nothing. “L-look, I know you guys hide out here. I, um…yeah, I need to see Derek if he’s here. I mean, if-if he’s out feeding on the innocent that-that’s cool too, but, um…there’s some stuff on its way here…thought you guys should know…”
His voice sort of faded at the end because he swore he saw distinct eyeshine in one far corner, and it made his heart beat harder against his ribs.
- fullmoonmigraine reblogged this from itsthatphraseagain and added:
- itsthatphraseagain reblogged this from fullmoonmigraine and added:
- itsthatphraseagain posted this