1lostone | Nowhere Man | Nc-17 | Derek/Stiles 9 of 11 (Reply)

Title: Nowhere Man
Fandom: Teen Wolf (Still regretting NOTHING!)
Words: (this chap) aprox 5900 (~50k for fic so far)
Summary: When Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, he does it without a backwards glance. For two years he is happy on the other side of the country- until someone targets not only him, but his daughter.Unfortunately, the asshole bodyguard his dad hired to make sure he gets back home is none other than Derek Hale. And that's really not very good for either of them.
Warnings: Attempt at plot! Angst! Descriptions of panic attacks! alpha/omega dynamics(made up to fit this story. They're not the "typical" dynamics you find in fic)! Creepy stalker behavior! A metric fuckton of more angst! Boys being stupid! (mostly) Off-screen mpreg and ... kid!fic! This is a wip.((Note possibly triggery occurrences such as assault, sex under false pretenses, etc.)
Anyway, this is dedicated to mah bb,

jlm121 because I love her. Beta'd by the amazing

diva0789!

Read on Ao3 || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7
|| Chapter 8 || Chapter 9

Chapter warnings! assault and kidnapping of a minor.

Stiles took a deep breath before opening the door. It swung open on silent hinges, and Stiles could clearly see Derek sprawled out on the bed. That was kind of weird. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Derek sprawl before. Lurk, yes. Sprawl... no. Stiles took another hesitant, step forward, biting his lips against the smirk that threatened as he stared where Derek clutched one pillow to his chest. He looked like a giant X spread out from one end of the bed to the other.

Stiles had never seen Derek sleep.

It was kind of hilarious. Derek had left the computer on, and the screensaver illuminated the room just enough that Stiles could see that Derek had his mouth open just a tiny bit, breathing heavily enough with what most people would definitely call a snore. Stiles would. In fact Stiles would just go all out and say he sounded rather ridiculous with the deep inhalation and the high-pitched, cartoonish squeak of a snuffle that came out of his nose.

Big Bad Wolf, indeed.

Stiles took another step forward, looking unabashedly at Derek’s nearly naked form. Stiles couldn’t tell if the Alpha was wearing underwear or not, but from what he could see if he was, they must have ridden pretty low during snoozing sprawl. Derek had kicked off the blankets, and was saved from complete nudity from the sheet, half of which had tangled around one of his legs, and half had already fallen to the floor.

Stiles had a brief moment of trepidation- why was he doing this? Did he want to do this? Was this a good idea? then quickly answered himself-- because he didn’t want to sleep alone, yes, probably not but he’d already survived the worst Derek could do, so why not-- before taking a deep breath and kneeling on the corner of the bed. Slowly though, so Derek wouldn’t wake up. Stiles didn’t exactly have a lot of experience at this. Should he just kneel on the carpet and lean over the bed, or should he try to curl up around Derek and just go for it?

Would Derek even want him to?

Stiles wrinkled his nose. Maybe he was thinking too much about this. His head (both of them) told him to just go for it. His heart-- well. He wasn’t currently paying attention to his heart, so it was a moot point. Stiles continued to move slowly, bending so that he could press his cheek against the one hipbone not covered by the sheet. Stiles wasn’t hairy enough to need a shave- although when compared to Derek very few men were, he supposed. Still, he liked the difference of the textures of his stubble against the soft skin of Derek’s hip. Derek smelled amazing. Stiles thought it had just been his heat that kept Derek’s scent on the back of his tongue, but... no. Stiles breathed deeply. He could smell soap and skin, and only realized his mouth was watering when he licked his lips.

Stiles slowly peeled the sheet away, his breath catching.

Other than his own, Stiles really hadn’t seen a lot of dicks soft like this before. In porn they were always hard, and in the locker room he hadn’t really spent a lot of time checking his teammates out. Okay. Maybe once or twice. Five times. But the point was... dicks. Derek’s dick in particular. Stiles couldn’t help the curiosity as he stared, licking his dry lips.

Stiles reached out, then paused, darting his gaze up to Derek’s face.

Derek was staring at him from half-lowered eyelids.

Stiles reared back, jumping a little when Derek’s hand shot out to close around his forearm.

“Are you okay?” Derek’s voice was rough with sleep. “Stiles. What’s...” Stiles watched as concern replaced the sleep-stupid look on Derek’s face. He started to sit up, and Stiles shook his head, just knowing that he was blushing.

How the fuck he could blush after the events of the past two? three? whatever days was one of the biggest mysteries of the goddamn universe.

“No. I mean yes. I’m fine. I was just...” Oh hell. Forget about it. He could go jerk off in peace.

Derek let go of him at once, as though he just realized that he was still clutching onto Stiles. To Stiles’ surprise he lay back down on the bed, stretching just slightly out so that he was mostly in his original position.

“Have at it.”

Which, really, given Stiles’ current position was about the sexual equivalent of ringing the dinner bell.

Stiles reached out one finger to trace the curve of Derek’s cock, starting right under the base and all the way down, using just the smallest, almost not-there touch he could. Stiles bit his lip, touching the springy pubic hair, tugging a little just to be a brat. Derek made a weird sound, kind of a growly, pleased chuff of sound and Stiles couldn’t help a tiny smirk. Stiles repeated the action, stroking a little harder. He bit his own lip when Derek’s cock twitched again, surprised at the flood of saliva that the sight produced. Stiles had always attributed his reaction to Derek’s body as part of his heat. But he wasn’t in heat now, and Derek still made his mouth water.

He risked a quick glance up at Derek’s face, double-checking that Derek wasn’t doing one of the frowny faces of doom. With his chin resting lightly on Derek’s thigh Stiles bent over him, breathing a little heavier. He pursed his lips, trying to see if Derek would react with just him breathing on him and was rewarded with a heavier twitch. Stiles grinned, delighted at himself.

Which was probably stupid. His technique wasn’t going to go down in the annals of blowjob history as anything spectacular.

Probably. But hey. Stiles had always kind of prided himself on being a quick study.

Stiles shuffled down a bit, balancing himself over Derek’s leg and slowly guided Derek’s cock to his mouth. He couldn’t help the way he moaned a little at feeling Derek vulnerable and soft inside of him. Stiles moved his lips a little closer to the base, flicking his tongue around as best he could. Derek almost seemed to freeze, and all of the sudden it was a lot harder to fit Derek’s cock into the wet heat of Stiles’ mouth. Stiles tilted his head a little to meet Derek’s gaze, the weird grey-green sharp and intense as Derek stared back, his eyes wide.

Stiles felt his own dick go semi-hard and shifted slightly on the bed to pull his mouth off of Derek’s cock. Stiles licked his lips again and bent back down, taking more and sucking this time. He wrapped one hand around the base, the other reaching down to trail lightly over Derek’s balls. Stiles didn’t know if he’d like that or not, but given that Derek wasn’t exactly shy-- about anything-- Stiles figured that if he had a problem with it, Derek would let him know.

Derek made a small sound in the back of his throat and shifted slightly, opening his legs a little wider so that Stiles could shuffle into a better position. Stiles had started to lap at the crown when Derek made a shocked sound and jacknifed up, the palms of his hands resting on Stiles’ cheeks, pulling him off of his dick.

Stiles shut his mouth with a small ‘pop’, feeling awkward.

“Why are you doing this?” Derek stared down at him. He’d gone from blissed to concerned in just a few moments, as though he’d just now thought of something important.

Stiles blinked, his eyebrows furrowing. He tried to move his head out of Derek’s grip, but Derek just tightened his fingers reflexively. Derek looked upset. His thumbs traced tiny circles over the skin under Stiles’ eyes.

“I mean. I mean, you’re not... it’s not because you think that...” Derek huffed out a frustrated breath.

Somehow that made Stiles feel less like he’d fucked up, less like he was in some weird alternate universe. Derek still couldn’t seem to express himself emotionally. Nice to know that some things didn’t change.

“You know that you don’t owe me anything, right?”

“Owe--?” It clicked. “Oh.” Derek thought that Stiles was trying to use sex to pay him back for giving a helping hand (so to speak) during Stiles’ heat. Stiles very deliberately removed Derek’s hands from his cheeks, forcing eye contact, ignoring the little spurt of feeling that lept at seeing the almost wrecked look on Derek’s features, before Derek composed his face until his normal aloof stare. “Derek, I’m here because I want to be here.” Stiles smirked. “But, since we’re on the subject, thank you for your help earlier. You were quite the gentleman. Now lay back down so I can suck your dick, okay? There’s a bit of a learning curve to this.”

Derek leaned back so fast that Stiles bounced a little on the mattress. He hid his smile against Derek’s thigh and leaned back down, feeling much more confident as Derek let him explore. He licked and sucked, teased and stroked. Through it all Derek would huff out these little breaths that made Stiles even more determined to draw out another moan.

Stiles liked those. They made him feel ... powerful. Stiles chanced a glance up at Derek’s face, only to see that the other man frozen in place, watching Stiles suck him with a fierce look on his face, like he didn’t want to look away, even for a second.

“You’ve never done this before.”

Stiles shook his head, trailing his tongue back up the shaft, sucking lightly on just the head of Derek’s cock. The precome was bitter on the back of his tongue. The taste wasn’t probably one of Stiles’ top ten favorites, but it certainly wasn’t the worst thing he’d put in his mouth. And the way Derek’s cock kind of drooled out a little spurt when Stiles felt a particularly sensitive spot was worth it- like some weird kind of positive reinforcement.

Stiles pulled off of Derek’s dick with another wet sounding pop and tilted his head, looking up at him with nervous butterflies doing aerial maneuvers in his stomach. He blurted out the words before he could stop himself: before it clicked that Derek didn’t sound critical at all. In fact the words Derek had spoken had been strained-- as though Derek had been incredulous at his luck.

“You were right about me gagging for it.” Stiles saw the flash of shocked hurt on Derek’s face when the familiar words registered.

“... And you did, didn’t you? Fucking gagging for my cock. Although, we didn’t get to that, I guess.” Stiles winced, trying to ignore the weird feeling of guilt he felt at throwing Derek’s words back in his face after all this time. He bent again, tightening his fingers around the base of Derek’s cock, moving it so that he could go down on him again.

“Stiles, wait.”

Derek shifted, pulling Stiles up his body, then turning so that they were laying on their sides, facing each other. Stupid. So stupid- why did you have to say that? It doesn’t matter. Not true. It did matter. Stiles had always been crap at lying-- even to himself. Although, it did look like he was making major inroads in existing in a truly spectacular amount of denial. Now this is gonna just be all sorts of awkward. Stiles gave a mournful look at Derek’s cock. So much for mutual orgasms.

“Look. I.” But Derek stopped talking, staring at Stiles in the muted light of the room instead. Slowly he traced one finger over Stiles swollen lips and Stiles couldn’t hide the shiver that broke across his body at the light sensation. “I wasn’t going to put this on you yet. No, that’s not true. I’ve been...” Derek stopped again, moving his finger slowly down Stiles’ chin and over his jaw line. “I’ve been a coward. I should have said this the second I saw you back on the East coast, but I.” Derek took a deep breath.

Stiles felt himself tensing, a prelude to moving back out of the bed. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to hear what Derek had to say. Sure, Derek had been somewhat less emotionally constipated lately, but that didn’t mean that Stiles wanted some big Oprah confession. Derek moved so that their foreheads were touching. Stiles jumped, shocked. Somehow, that seemed more intimate than what they had just been doing.

Derek cleared his throat, visibly steeling himself. “Stiles. I’m so fucking sorry.” Stiles just blinked at him. “I don’t even know a word that covers how sorry I am. I know you’re just here because I practically made you, and god, I wish that I could go back and change things. But I can’t.” Derek pulled away, shaking his head. “I can’t even decide if you’re really here or if I’m dreaming.”

Stiles blinked, Derek’s words swimming in his head. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Reached up to itch his nose. Stiles took another deep breath. “So did you think that telling me this now was more or less likely to make me sleep with you?” Stiles was glad to feel a small stirring of anger. It was nice to feel something else besides complete and utter confusion.

Derek jerked, like he’d just taken a punch. “I.”

“Okay, answer this.” Stiles railroaded over him, not entirely sure which answer would be worse to hear. “The bet? I get that. It was a good way to make me leave. Well. No, not a good way. But it got me out of Beacon Hills.” Derek had rolled off the bed like a shot. Stiles could see how uncomfortable he was, and took a fierce sort of pleasure in it. He sat up on the bed, curling his legs up so that he could wrap his arms around them. “What I don’t get... what really, really makes me hate you--” There was that flinch again. Stiles ignored the clunch in his gut that Derek’s reaction produced. He didn’t have any interest in examining his own feelings right now. “-- is that... why did you fuck me? You guys could have had the bet, won the bet, whatever without that. But you... you dated me, Derek.” Stiles frowned down at his knees, hating the way his voice had gone soft at the end. He coughed. “That’s what. I mean you guys did a helluva job. I never, ever would have believed anyone of they had told me you were really that cruel. But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that I got my feelings all over you.” Stiles looked up at Derek from under his lashes. Derek was standing in the dark, about a foot away from the bed. There was just enough light for Stiles to see that Derek was staring straight down at the floor.

Stiles wasn’t sure what possessed him to get up and walk over to Derek. There was a small lamp near the bed that he turned on, and Derek blinked at him for a second before actually taking a step back. He couldn’t see as well in the dark as Derek and had the feeling that this conversation was one that he didn’t want to miss.

Stiles was fascinated at the way Derek clenched his fists, the tendons and muscles in his arms twitching at the obvious signs of anger. Was ... why would Derek be angry? Stiles frowned, taking another step forward. “Why did you fuck me, Derek?” He repeated the question, wanting to see what reactions his words would have on Derek. “I mean, you could obviously resist whatever pheromones my heat produced. So it wasn’t like you had to fuck me.” Figures. His half-human heritage gave him some resistance to the usual werewolf bullshit... but not to all of it.

“Would you stop saying that?” The growl was low. Pissed.

“Saying what? Fuck me? Derek, do you get that you... That it wasn’t like some isolated incident. You dated me. I was completely stupid over you and then...”

The growl broke out, low and causing something in Stiles gut to flutter. Stiles was pressed against the wall, bracketed in by Derek’s arms before he could even blink. The faint light from the lamp didn’t make it all the way across the room. It caused Stiles’ head to thunk against the wall once before Stiles reacted- grabbing onto Derek’s wrists, squeezing tightly. Derek stood there with his hands braced against the wall- staring at Stiles with barely controlled--- hurt?

Wait. What the fuck?

“He told me that you were fucking.”

Stiles froze, staring up at Derek from only a few inches. The last time they’d been together Derek had been taller. It was a weird thing to realize, but it really clicked that Stiles wasn’t the same kid he’d been the last time they’d been this close. “He. What?”

“Morel told me.” Derek dipped his neck slightly, breathing in Stiles’ scent. The slight, whisper-soft brush of lips under his ear caused Stiles to shudder. “He told me that you got a kick out of going from one of us to the other. An experiment before you went off to college.”

Something dark pooled low in Stiles’ gut. Derek must have sensed it because he leaned in and brushed his lips even more deliberately over Stiles’ neck. Stiles knew what he was doing. He was waiting for Stiles to acknowledge Derek’s claim over him, for Stiles to bare his throat.

Well he could just fucking wait until there were snow angels in hell.

“You. You thought... what?” Stiles could barely get the words out through the red haze of fury. “How the. How could. What?!”

“I didn’t! Not until you came over that last time. And you were so fucking wet. Already open. You wanted me so much, Stiles. And every fucking thing he’d ever said hit me. About how he’d tasted you first. How he’d seen what you look like taking his cock.” Derek bit the words out so quickly that watching his mouth in the faint light left Stiles wondering how he wasn’t biting his tongue.

“I think that you may actually be the stupidest motherfucking being on the planet.”

Derek just laughed. It wasn’t a happy sound. “Yeah. I figured that out about two seconds after you lef--mmph!’

Stiles jerked Derek forward, kissing him so hard that their teeth clicked together, cutting into his gums. Stiles didn’t even hesitate, jerking Derek’s head where he wanted it and aligning their lips so that the kiss was slightly less painful, but no less forceful. Stiles kissed him like he was punishing him, only realizing that his nails were buried in Derek’s wrists when he was able to force himself to let go, before pushing Derek away from him with one hard strike of his hands to Derek’s naked chest.

Derek actually staggered, which was rather satisfying. While he was off balance, Stiles used Derek’s momentum to push him down, falling over him so that Derek landed on the carpet with a grunt, Stiles landing on top of him barely a half a second later.

“You idiot. You would have been able to smell him on me.” Stiles slapped at Derek’s hands when they came down onto Stiles shoulders, pulling them up over Derek’s head with a nasty smile. “You did. You.. you put me through that because you were jealous? What the fuck, Derek? You do actually know how to use those wolfy senses that you’re so proud of, right?” Stiles bent to kiss him again, and was shocked at the way Derek went completely passive for just an instant before kissing him back, meeting him halfway, arching up his neck so that he could get at Stiles’ mouth. Stiles let his fingers tangle into Derek’s hair and tugged, wanting to see how far Derek would let him take this.

Derek ripped his lips away, sucking in a deep breath. “I couldn’t. All I could smell was you. Even when you were calling my name all I could think was that you’d called his--oh Christ.”

Stiles smirked down at Derek, rolling their hips together again. He’d never been on top like this before. Having Derek spread out under him was something that Stiles was seriously going to have to reconsider. Derek thrust up against him and it was Stiles’ turn to make a strangled sound in the back of his throat. Derek broke the grip Stiles had on his wrists, bringing his hands up to cup Stiles’ hips, moving him that slight half-inch necessary so that they lined up perfectly.

He blinked down at Derek, pleasure sparking behind his dark eyes. Stiles heard someone moaning rather high-pitched and desperate and was terribly afraid it was him. Stiles was still wearing his underwear, and the slight friction from the cotton was just on this side of too much. The heat of their cocks was addictive, and Stiles just wanted more. Derek leaned up to kiss him again, his fingers tightening. When he rolled his hips even harder, Stiles bit his lip to keep in the moan.

Stiles did it again, blurting out what he was thinking before he thought of what he was saying.

“That’s some fucking irony considering that I’ve never. --- oh. Yeah, right there, nnggh, Derek.”

“You never...?” Derek did something illegal with his hips and Stiles gasped, close. So fucking close he was going to-- any second one more thrust of his hips and he was

“I’ve never even had sex with anyone else!”

Derek froze underneath him.

Clarity came seconds after Stiles heard what he said and he tensed, screwing his eyes shut. Like that was going to help. Like he could just wish his words away.

Derek’s hands tightened painfully on Stiles hips- so tightly that Stiles winced- before he very, very carefully released his grip. “You’ve never had sex with anyone else.” Stiles winced again at the absolute blankness in Derek’s words.

In a sudden flurry of motion, Stiles shifted off of Derek’s lap and stood up. He swallowed hard as Derek mimicked his movements, standing up in front of Stiles. He seemed completely at ease with his body, with the fact that his cock was still hard and wet with precome. Stiles’ own skin felt like it was a size too small. He was overly aware that he didn’t quite know what to do with his hands.

“You were in heat two years ago.” Derek’s voice was so calm that he could have been commenting on the weather.

“Yes.” Stiles jutted his chin out, refusing to be cowed. He hadn’t ever intended to tell Derek anything about Zoe, but that didn’t mean that he was going to just crumple like some romance-novel maiden. He hadn’t done anything wrong.

“You.. you were pregnant.”

“Yes.” Stiles took a step to the left of Derek, carefully keeping out of Derek’s arm-reach. He’d made it another step before he mentally shrugged. “And just so everything’s perfectly clear, yes. Zoe is...” Stiles literally could not force himself to say the words ‘yours’ when they were so adamantly untrue. Zoe was not, and never would be Derek’s. Zoe was his. He was Zoe’s. They belonged to each other. He took another two steps, stopping at the connecting door. “Zoe is your daughter. Biologically. Congratulations.” Stiles couldn’t help the way his voice wavered a liltle on the last syllable.

Stiles’ ears might not have been as good as Derek’s, but he had no trouble hearing Derek’s rough whisper. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles turned in the doorway, looking over his shoulder. Derek was still standing there, staring after Stiles with something on his face, some emotion that Stiles had never seen before.

Stiles wanted to laugh, but nothing in his life had ever before seemed less humorous. “Why would I, Derek? You’re the one that told me to leave.”

The door between them shut with a soft, final-sounding click.

******

Stiles stared down at his phone with a small frown.

The next day hadn’t been as awkward as he had feared. After closing the connecting door, Stiles had gotten dressed with lightning speed. He’d thought that he’d heard Derek just on the other side of the door, but had ignored him, straining his ears for the sound of footsteps on the carpet.

Stiles knew that he couldn’t just leave, not without Derek just following him, so his other option had been just lying here in his room and hiding. Stiles had stared up at his ceiling, waiting for the sun to come up, almost vibrating with impatience at the wait. Now that his heat was over he just wanted Zoe. He didn’t have Isaac’s number, but Stiles didn’t think it would be too difficult to work out where he and Zoe were staying.

Stiles hadn’t questioned the way Isaac had clearly known that he was coming over. The text had just been a room number, but Stiles had known who it was the second his phone had chirped.

Zoe had been ecstatic at seeing her daddy, and Stiles winced when he worked out that he’d left her with Isaac for at least forty hours- and had practically ignored her for the day and a half prior to that. Zoe had seemed to feel the same, and had hardly allowed him out of her sight, going so far as to follow him to the bathroom.

She hadn’t been particularly pleased at the “no honey” or at the way that Stiles had simply closed the door on her, and had buried her little face in his shins at his return, hugging him tightly.

Derek had been conspicuously absent.

Stiles frowned down at his phone again, willing it to text him back. He didn’t exactly know where Derek and Isaac were. When his phone did finally go off, Stiles jumped. Zoe gave him a weird look and frowned up over the edge of her book. Stiles was pretty sure that she wasn’t actually reading all of the words, but watching her lips move as she frowned down at the antics of Mr. Toad and Mole, Stiles couldn’t be entirely sure.

Isaac:
    -- holy shit dude you could have warned me.

Stiles glared down at the phone. Before he could text back, it chirped again.

Isaac:
    -- But hell if I’m able to feel sorry for him. He fucked this up pretty much as perfectly as if he had planned it out in advance. Your kid is adorable by the way.

Stiles:
    -- Is Derek okay?

Fuck. What had made him ask that?

Isaac:
    --Funny. He just asked me the same thing about you. After he decapitates the batshit insane werewolf, you two probably need to sit down and talk.

Stiles stared down at the phone, surprised at the jolt of pure rage that flooded through him at the idea that Derek would even dream of going after Morel without Stiles there.

Stiles:

--Derek I swear to god if you go after him without me I will kill you myself.

--Derek.

--I mean it!

-- What’s the plan, Derek? No way are you going to leave me out again, man.

Derek:
--No. Pack meeting. Strategy session. Be back in 20.

That hit him like a punch to the face. Stiles felt his insides actually quiver with something that he’d never admit was panic. Derek here would be awkward enough. But Scott? Seeing Boyd and Erica?

Stiles bit his lip, looking around the small living area of the suite. He’d been pretty much okay with the cabin fever brought on by staying still in one place for so long. He wasn’t an idiot. Stiles knew that it was important that he stay put, so that Morel wouldn’t find him and Zoe. But now he could almost feel the nervous energy sparking under his skin. He stood up and set his phone on the small table near the chair.

“Hey, baby girl. Do you want to go with Daddy on a little trip?”

Zoe looked up at him briefly, then back down to the book with an almost comically obvious indecision.

Stiles’ lips twitched. As so often happened with his daughter, he found himself both helplessly amused and struck with a tangible spurt of love. “You can take your book. Just put it in your backpack. I don’t think we’ll go far. Just to get some food.”

“Can we have the chicken place?” Zoe licked her lips. “I love the chicken place.” She made her point with a few clucking chicken sounds. Stiles rolled his eyes. At this point, he didn’t even know why he bothered being surprised that she had him wrapped around her little finger, especially when he’d been the one to help tie the knots. Zoe slid off the couch and carefully packed her backpack with her book and her Tiana doll.

“Sure, baby.”

Zoe jutted her chin out, staring up at him with her hands on her hips. “I am not a baby, daddy.”

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek. “Of course you’re not. Come on, I bet you’re hungry.”

Zoe nodded. “Isaac said it was important for growing girls to eat a lot of healthy food.” She wrinkled her nose. “He didn’t eat healthy food that tasted yummy though daddy. It tasted like...” she lowered her voice. “Boogers!”

Stiles wisely decided not to inquire exactly how his precious spawn had concluded that particular comparison. He checked his pockets for his wallet and his key card, ignoring his phone when chirped another text. “Boogers, huh?”

Zoe nodded and slipped her hand in his as they stepped into the hotel’s hallway. Stiles felt rather like he was sneaking out past curfew. He had no doubts that Derek would be less than thrilled at the fact that he’d left the hotel room. He took a step and shivered, almost stumbling at the sensation of electricity running rampant under his skin. Mountain Ash? What the fuck was--- oh. Stiles smirked then frowned down at the black line of ash. Derek knew that wouldn’t keep Stiles in, so it was clearly meant to keep someone else out. He frowned stupidly down at it. How the hell had Derek even gotten it there? If it made his skin feel like it was vibrating off of his bones, what did it do to to the Alpha? Stiles’ half-human blood protested crossing the line of protection, but Stiles ignored the slight feeling of foreboding. What was the worst that could happen? He was just going out for some food.

Stiles tried to ignore the way his heart sped up. Getting food for pack meetings had had less to do with anyone asking Stiles to do anything like that and more with him needing to feel useful. Feeding a roomful of teenagers hadn’t exactly been all that difficult. It was just a small thing, but it had helped Stiles to feel like the pack had wanted him there while they planned and plotted whatever their next step was.

Stiles had seen the chicken place from the window, and Derek had brought food back from there several times, so he knew it couldn’t be too far. Sure enough it was just across the street from the hotel. He gripped Zoe’s hand a little more tightly and smiled to himself. It was ridiculous to feel this accomplished from walking across the damn street, but Jesus was it nice to get out of that room. Those four walls had been closing in at a rather alarmingly accelerated rate.

“There it is, daddy!” Zoe pulled at his hand, and Stiles laughed as he helped her pull open the door to the restaurant. “I miss chicken. When I stayed with Mr. Isaac, he didn’t eat meat at all.”

There was a line of people waiting to order. Stiles grinned down at Zoe, a little confused. “At all?”

Zoe shook her head, looking mournful. “No daddy. He says that he’s a vegetarian. What’s a vegetarian, daddy? I asked him but he said that he’s not a animal doctor.”

Stiles knew that he had to look kind of stupid with his mouth open like that, but he honestly didn’t think he had ever heard of something so... so. Isaac was a vegetarian? A vegetarian werewolf?? Was that even possible? “Uh. Vegetarian, Zoe. Not a veterinarian.”

The lady in front of them snorted a little.

“Oh. I have to pee, daddy.”

Stiles blinked at the abrupt subject change. Of course she did. Stiles looked at the line of people behind him and sighed. It was his own fault. He knew better than anyone that Zoe mysteriously developed a full bladder at every restaurant they visited. Stiles should have made her go before they left the hotel, but he’d been preoccupied. “Are you sure you can’t wait, honey?”

“Nuh-huh.” Zoe did a little dance to emphasize her point.

Damn it. “Okay then. Let’s go before you have an accident.” Zoe had only recently been able to tell him when she had to go, so this was a rather huge accomplishment for them.

At least the bathrooms were clean. Stiles opened the door to make sure nothing gross was on the seat before he let Zoe in. He heard the outside door open as someone else stepped inside and was briefly glad that this bathroom had more than one stall. Sometimes Zoe took forever to actually go. Although, Stiles didn’t think that this would be one of those times. Zoe was doing a lot more than dance around now and looked miserable as Stiles quickly helped her with her jeans. “By myself, daddy!”

Stiles sighed again. Zoe had definitely come by her stubbornness honestly. From both sides. “Okay then. I’ll just be right out here, okay? Let me know if you need some help.”

“No help daddy! By myself! Myself!” She refused to get up on the toilet until he left, actually making shooing motions with her tiny, little hands.

He held up his own hands in a sign of surrender, shaking his head a little as he pushed the door with his hip to step out of the cubicle and into the restroom.

Stiles didn’t even have time to scream.

He only had a split-second to see the flash of Morel’s grin, the reflection of the florescent lights on the handle of the gun before Morel swung it, hitting him solidly on the temple with the butt of the gun. He thought he stumbled, but he couldn’t be sure.

Blackness swam up and engulfed him before Stiles hit the floor.

TBC!