Who: Stiles Stilinski and Cora Hale What: Trying to process some big news. Where: The Stilinski household. When: Thursday afternoon/evening. Rating: Low. Status: Complete.
Cora wasn’t sure what to make of what Uncle Peter… no, her father, had said. Did it change anything? She didn’t know. In some ways, it gave her answers to why she had always felt just a bit out of place with Derek and Laura before the Nemeton had sent her back to being dead. She had just assumed it was because she hadn’t been in a family situation for so long, that she was adjusting. But was it also because of this particular bombshell?
How was she supposed to react? Derek was her brother. He’d always been that to her. Did it matter if technically he wasn’t? Did she care? No. She didn’t. Would he, though? Could she even actually tell him? God this was all a mess. One thing was certain though, she couldn’t go back to the loft. Not right now. Not when Derek could just question her and she might completely snap from what she’d learned.
Which was how she ended up at the Stilinski home. She didn’t even know when it had become a safe place for her, just that she ended up there without realizing it. Well, it wasn’t like there was anywhere else to go. She could have gone to the old house but that was full of lies and painful memories. Still. The Stilinski home was the last place she would have ever seen herself going on instinct, yet here she was.
Not knowing if anyone was there, and not really caring, she just went through Stiles’ window as she usually did for their movie nights. He was probably at lacrosse, or dealing with Scott, or something. No big deal. She’d just… sit on the floor against the wall and try to disappear into herself to try and make sense of all of this.
Stiles had been trying to get Scott to talk to him all day, but it was pretty obvious that Scott was doing his best to avoid Stiles. At one time it would have hurt his feelings, probably, but he was beyond that at this point. He was flat out worried about his best friend. He wasn’t acting like himself and things weren’t okay the way Scott kept trying to say they were. Stiles knew him way too well to believe that.
But he got a text message from his dad right before lacrosse practice telling him that he had a “visitor” there to see him. And when the follow up text had said that his visitor was a female and that she’d climbed through Stiles’ bedroom window? Well, he knew exactly who it was then. Because there was only one person other than Scott who ever used his bedroom window.
Cora.
He unlocked the front door and headed into the house, backpack still strapped to his back as he headed up the stairs toward his room, wondering what was going on. Their movie and pop culture nights were on the weekends usually, and their training sessions at Derek’s loft. He suspected that meant that something was wrong. He opened the door to his room, knowing she’d undoubtedly heard him the moment he’d pulled the jeep into the driveway.
He shrugged out of his backpack, pausing at the sight of her sitting on the floor, back against the wall, looking...lost.
Stiles set his backpack down by his desk before moving to sit down beside her. “Hey.”
Admittedly, proper etiquette said she should have text him, asked if it was okay, but when she didn’t know where else to go? Well, Cora had just gone on instinct. She wasn’t certain what she’d say when questioned, she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She also hadn’t expected Stiles to get there that quickly since she knew that lacrosse met basically every single day.
Even so, she heard Stiles’ arrival long before he got up to his room. So far, no questions, that was good. Because really, how was she supposed to answer them when she didn’t know what to make of them? Like it or not, she had known who she was while she was on the run and being stuck in Beacon Hills hadn’t really changed that. Not until now. Some things were explained, the Spanish Hunters, but beyond that…?
“Hey….”
He glanced at her sideways, pursing his lips. He had questions, of course. Quite a few. But she didn’t look like she was up for a question and answer session, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t there to watch movies or listen to music. He remained quiet for a long moment, considering what he should do. Or could do.
Stiles stretched his legs out in front of him, folding his hands on his lap. He figured one basic question had to happen or they might end up sitting in silence for a long period of time without him having any idea what was going on. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
Silence was good. Cora had always been okay with silence. She had never been one to just… talk for the sake of talking. She was comfortable in it. Then again, being alone for so long and always on the run tended to make that the case. Some might latch onto all companions just to not feel alone, but it had kept her alive. And now…
The question wasn’t shocking, she had known it was going to come at some point. She just hadn’t figured out what to say.
“… My entire life’s a lie and I just… I didn’t know where else to go.”
The words were out before she realized it, but it was also truth. There were those who would say comments like that and it wouldn’t be that big a deal. But Cora didn’t exaggerate. She minimized issues. She never even said the words out loud that the only reason she was still alive was because Kate Argent was so sadistic that she had revived her just to torture her. Something else she hadn’t properly dealt with.
But this? Everything she knew and had grown up with, everything she had remembered…
Okay. That hadn’t been what he was expecting at all. He turned his head to look at her for a moment. And he knew that Cora Hale wasn’t one to exaggerate or mince words. He had no clue what she meant by the fact that her entire life was a lie, but she obviously really meant it. That was troubling.
But the rest of what she said almost made him smile a bit. It was weird for him, in a way, to have grown up with exactly one friend for his entire life, to having more than that now. People who actually trusted and chose to hang out with him for reasons aside from crises. Though he had a feeling this kind of fell in the crisis category.
“Well, you’re always welcome here,” he said quietly. Even if his dad hadn’t been thrilled that she’d used his window and not the door. No one would have answered the door because no one had been home. And at the end of the day, the silent alarm being breached for something like this wasn’t really that big of a deal.
It was weird for Cora, as well. Just being able to trust someone enough to go there instead of run on her own to deal. She had Derek, she had Uncle Peter...not Uncle Peter…. god this hurt her head. Either way, she knew she could go to them for the most part, but trusting someone outside of the family? That was very strange, yet here she was. The fight training and pop culture lessons helped, but even at school Cora tended to bug Stiles for information when she didn’t know something.
But this was definitely a crisis of sorts. Was everyone having an identity crisis? Maybe. Why the hell would throwing away a four leaf clover lead to this? She didn’t even know if Peter and Malia had kept or thrown away their clovers like she had. Would this have come out any other way?
Covering her face with her hands, the teen let out a shaky breath.
“Thanks…”
She should probably elaborate on why her life was a lie. How did she do that though when she still didn’t know what to make of it?
Stiles watched her silently, troubled by how upset she was. Even if her face didn’t show it as much as her eyes, he could practically feel her anxiety. Or maybe he had a really good imagination. He hesitated a second, then reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.
“You don’t have to talk about it, but...you know, if you want to, I’m a decent listener.” Okay so overall he was a better talker than a listener, but he could do both. He’d listened to Scott plenty of times when his best friend was having some kind of crisis, even if right now Scott was pushing him away entirely.
Maybe he couldn’t do anything for Scott right now, but maybe he could help Cora somehow. He let out a slow breath, raking a hand through his hair and leaning his back more against the wall. If he’d said he wasn’t kind of dying to know what she meant, he’d be lying, but he also wasn’t going to push. Not with Cora. Cora wasn’t someone who could be pushed into much of anything. She was someone who had to do things in her own time. He got that.
The touch to her arm caused Cora to tense before she forced herself to relax. She had come here for a reason, a reason she didn’t understand but she clearly trusted Stiles enough to come to his house on an unplanned day when she was lost and didn’t know where else to go. But she did have to scoff, because she was fairly certain that he’d be changing his opinion on that once he knew what was wrong.
“Oh, even though apparently Uncle Peter is actually my father and that girl Malia is supposedly my twin sister?”
She knew what Peter had done. She knew that there was more beyond Laura. Knew that after the fire he’d gone insane and even before had been fueled by jealousy, manipulating Derek. She had always been the one closest to him. Had always been the most like him. But there was something to be said on just being like him and finding out he was her father. Finding out that some girl who’d been a coyote for eight years was supposed to be her twin.
Shaking her head in disgust and… something she couldn’t even place, Cora went back to staring ahead. Or glaring ahead. Right now it was more glaring because she was just waiting for that to change the dynamic and to lose one of the only people she could trust because that was what always happened. No one was in your life constantly and they can change sides in the blink of an eye. It made sense of things. Why she’d been targeted for seemingly no reason. How she’d been marked a werewolf when she knew how to hide it. But this news changed everything.
Stiles blinked a few times rapidly at that particular bombshell. “Okay, definitely didn’t see that coming.” Which was a stupid thing to say, really. “And okay obviously I didn’t see that coming, because you didn’t either, hence the whole life being a lie portion of the conversation.” He paused, not sure what to think.
He was silent for a few minutes. He was hardly Peter Hale’s biggest fan. Actually he didn’t think anyone was Peter Hale’s biggest fan. He’d done a lot of terrible things, to people that Stiles loved. He laid his head back against the wall as his brain tried to process that new bit of information. “That’s...wow.” He honestly didn’t know what to say. He turned his head to look at her, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.
“This is a newsflash for everyone, isn’t it? I mean, he didn’t even know, right?” Because he couldn’t see Peter sitting on that kind of information and not using it. He just hoped that maybe there was a chance it could go well for Cora and Malia both and that it wouldn’t result in disaster.
That was the one thing going for them, that no one had known. No one but Deaton apparently as he was the family Emissary, as well as her mother… Talia… because she had been the one to take the memories away. But so far, Stiles hadn’t decided to shun her for that but who knew how long that would last. So she just shrugged.
“No one but Deaton and my mom knew…” Because even if Talia was technically her aunt, it didn’t feel right to say that. To just call her Talia.
“She took his memory, something about Spanish hunters coming for my mother,” It was a way to differentiate, if anything, “Explains some things that happened in South America when I was there… but yeah.” No one knew. Derek didn’t even know. Which also explained why she couldn’t go back to the loft. Not right then. Not with this hanging over her head. And that some girl she never knew was her sister? How was she supposed to respond to that?
“Yeah, Deaton’s...not always the most forthcoming when it comes to information.” He sighed. He never had been. It frequently got on Stiles’ nerves. But he kind of understood why Deaton was the way he was, too. He wanted them to figure things out for themselves. To be self-reliant, or at least pack-reliant. Still. That was a pretty huge thing to know about someone else’s life.
“It sounds like your mom was trying to protect you guys,” he said quietly. Of course he was sure she’d figured that out already. But that did beg another question -- a pretty big one. If Talia Hale wasn’t her birth mother, who was? He kept that to himself because again, he was sure she’d already wondered that herself. He tried to imagine finding out at this point in his life that his dad wasn’t really his dad or that his mom wasn’t really his mom, or that he had a twin that he didn’t even know. Or a sibling of any sort that he didn’t know.
Now he understood why she’d shown up there. She probably wasn’t ready to deal with Derek yet. To deal with the idea that her brother wasn’t her brother, but her cousin. Or to answer his questions about any of it, considering she probably had a lot of those herself. He rubbed her shoulder a little, aiming for soothing and supportive. “I’m sorry. I can’t really even imagine how you’re feeling about all of this,” he admitted.
Well if there was one thing she could count on, it was that Stiles would talk, ramble, trip over his words and just.. .be Stiles. Which normally was annoying but she’d grown used to it and at least that hadn’t changed, hadn’t been a lie like everything she had believed and known.
“She was an Alpha. She had to be.”
There was no point in wishing to have known before, in wondering how things would have been different had they known. Memories of when she was three, calling Peter daddy because he had been gone and had always been around and her understanding of what a father was just was the person there for her who wasn’t her mom or siblings. Of how the terminology of uncle had been reaffirmed. Uncle Peter who killed sister Laura.
God. What did that make her? What did that mean for her. What was she expected to do with this knowledge?
He considered that, but realized he wasn’t sure why she thought so. “Because the Spanish hunters were after her?” He’d seen hunters go after all three kinds of werewolves in the past, so he wasn’t sure if there was more to it than that. He scratched the back of his neck, biting back his urge to barrage her with an array of werewolf-related questions.
She looked like she was a million miles away, and he wasn’t surprised by that. Not considering the news she’d just had dumped on her lap. “So wait, did Deaton just decide to…” He waved his hand between them. “You know, to suddenly spill all this information?” Because it seemed out of the blue. No. No, there was something else. Something about the dream that Malia had had recently. She remembered herself, as a baby, with people she didn’t know.
He chewed the inside of his cheek, shaking his head. Not just Malia. “You guys shared that dream, didn’t you? That’s why Deaton talked.”
“She’d been one of them. Great shame on the family, etc…” Sighing, Cora looked down at her knees in thought. It really did explain everything. Why they’d been so adamant to hunt her down as well. almost driven beyond the nerve of a normal hunter. It caused her eyes to darken in memory of running, always on the move to survive.
“But in order to protect all the wolves in the area, she made the decision so that they wouldn’t come here. Malia didn’t have the werewolf gene, they thought it had passed over her, that she was human so she was adopted.”
She understood the reasoning, she couldn’t even fathom her life any other way than it had been. But that didn’t make the information any easier to make sense of, to deal with or process. But Stiles was making sense of why Deaton had finally told them.
“Mhmm. All three of us had it. Uncle Peter went to Deaton to get answers…”
Stiles stared at her for a moment, stunned. Her birth mother had been a hunter. “And so of course they went after you because somehow all of it was your fault,” he said, a hint of bitterness in his tone. He drew his knees up to his chest, rubbing a hand over his hair. He was assuming that was what she’d meant when she’d said it explained some things that happened in South America, anyway.
He frowned as he considered that. “Okay but if you guys are twins, how did she not have the werewolf gene? I mean Peter was a born werewolf and you guys’ biological mom was a bitten werewolf, which okay, would probably equate a recessive werewolf gene, then…” Now his head was starting to hurt. He wished there were actual books on werewolves that weren’t fiction or mythology. “And how the hell did she end up a coyote?” That was the really baffling part.
Sure, Jackson had rejected the bite and turned into a Kanima, but this was something else entirely.
As Stiles made the connection on what she had meant, Cora just nodded.
“One of the many reasons I didn’t want to be back here…. Derek didn’t know my plan, he just thought we were going back, but…” Then again there was a lot that people didn’t know about Cora, or what her plans were. To protect him, she’d have erased that memory from him, gotten them to get to Peter as well. Instead, the Nemeton had brought her back here and while it had been a few months and no signs of them coming towards Beacon Hills. Her bad luck had already gotten Laura re-killed, no need to add the hunters showing up as well.
And then the lead in to the question.
“Did she end up a coyote?” She hadn’t expected to overlap the question with his, but it was the most obvious question to ask when trying to make sense of the werewolf gene. Her being human, that would have made sense. The coyote bit though?
“No clue.”
Stiles shook his head a little. “You’re afraid they’ll show up here.” It wasn’t a question. What it was, however, was a very troubling thought. The last thing anyone in town needed was a bunch of pissed off hunters trying to kill people. He blew out a breath, then turned to look at her. “Is that why you left? Because you didn’t want them to end up here ambushing you guys and everyone else?”
He really didn’t like not having answers. But it wasn’t like there was researchable science on all things werewolf. Or werecoyote. Or kanima. But it did make him wonder if Chris Argent had anything in the bestiary about were-coyotes and how that even happened.
It really was the last thing they needed. There were enough issues in Beacon Hills that psychotic Spanish hunters really didn’t need to be added to the mix.
“Mhmm. It was easy enough to explain to Derek. Time away from Beacon Hills to get to know one another again… I was going to find an alpha to take the memory of me being alive away…” It wasn’t something she had wanted to do. But it had seemed the only option at the time. If she was supposed to be dead, they wouldn’t get any information out of Derek or Peter. She had told Stiles before that there were things he didn’t know about her, didn’t understand and it was why she had left without saying anything… now he seemed to understand that aspect a bit more.
Not having answers meant death for Cora. She also knew that it meant weakness for her uncle turned father… or was it father turned uncle? Who knew. Either way. Answers were always a good thing. Until they broke your brain and made you doubt and question everything that you knew, leaving you completely lost in a town that was supposed to be home.
Stiles stared at her with wide-eyes. “Okay, but you realize there was a big, serious flaw in that plan, right?” He shook his head. He really hadn’t been prepared for that news. “I mean if Derek had come back on his own, or if Peter had resurfaced and ran into one of us...someone would have asked about you. Where you were and how you were doing.” She had to know that. Right?
He frowned deeply. Derek, at the least, would have known something was up the minute that had happened. Would have believed him or Scott if they’d told him that no, his little sister wasn’t dead, or she hadn’t been that long ago.
“I haven’t had to worry about other people or vice versa since the fire, Stiles… so yeah, glaring flaw in the plan that didn’t happen.”
It was what it was. After the fire, a lot had happened, changed, and Cora had done what she had to, she had survived. Which meant that while she knew how to survive on her own, figuring out how to protect other people that wasn’t killing abusive assholes, was, well, not exactly a strong point. Of course, he should have realized she tended to just react and not exactly think things through. Attacking Aiden the way she had really was testament to that.
“Suicidally reckless, remember?” That and she hadn’t realized anyone would notice or care that she hadn’t come back. Why would they have asked? All of which was hidden beneath the words, how she reacted.
He winced at her statement, sighing softly. “Right. I didn’t mean that to sound --” Stupid? Insensitive? Both? Both, definitely both, he thought. “I didn’t mean it to sound accusing or…” He looked down at his hands. He tried to imagine having to live his whole life running from people trying to kill him. Or Scott having to run from people trying to kill him. It wasn’t a pretty picture.
Still, it bothered him, more than a little that she didn’t think he or anyone else would care if she just vanished. Now of course, she didn’t really even have that option. Which meant if the Spanish hunters did show up in Beacon Hills, they would also be trapped there, and she’d be utterly unable to get away from them. What a wreck.
He chewed his thumbnail, troubled.
“It’s fine.” And it was. Experience was what formed reactions. The life she had led was not one most people had, so without really thinking about it, of course it would come out poorly. Cora wasn’t phased by it. Annoyed by the situation, knowing that her plan probably would have failed, sure, but it was a fact of life.
The threat of the hunters was always in the back of her mind. She had thought it would stop once she was free from Kate. Surely that should have been punishment enough for whatever she had done. But she did always worry, just so. This new information, though? This just brought it forward to her mind once again.
One of these days, she’d finally be able to relax. To feel like she belonged in one area. But being trapped in Beacon Hills gave her no choice, and no escape.
“So yeah.” That was why she was here. That was why she couldn’t go to the loft. That was why she was so tense and didn’t like to get close. Six years of running, surviving. It was what she knew and being here and letting herself get close to people, willingly or subconsciously, against all better judgement.
No. The life she led wasn’t one most people did. He understood it even if he couldn’t imagine living that way personally. He didn’t want to imagine it, truthfully. He rubbed his hand over his jaw as he thought about what all of it meant. Or what it could mean. And none of it was good.
Stiles chewed on his thumbnail, nodding slightly as he glanced at her sideways. “You know...as much as the idea of hunters showing up here scares the hell out of me, for like, everyone I know...I’m glad you’re here. And if they show up, then...we’ll figure out a way to deal with them. All of us, together.” His voice was sincere. “I mean that’s sort of what werewolf packs are for, right? Protection and safety?”
Really, it was the sincerity in his voice that made Cora believe what he was saying. Oh, she knew that Derek wouldn’t let them hurt her, but there were so many people here. Too many people with differing opinions and the Hales weren’t exactly well regarded when it came to the town. But somehow, for some insane reason, it seemed Stiles actually meant it.
“You shouldn’t have to, though.” Because there was a lot that went into it. Even so, she did nod at the last bit.
“But yeah. It’s why we’re stronger in a pack.” It was why sometimes it was a miracle she was even alive by this point as she’d been an omega for so long.
“Of course I should,” he said, sounding kind of offended as he looked at her sideways. “That’s what friends do. It’s just how it works.” Or at least that was how it worked with him and Scott and Lydia and Allison and Isaac. They stuck together, and if there was trouble, they all dealt with it. They all had their own strengths and weaknesses and that was another good thing about being part of a pack.
What one person lacked, someone else made up for. He didn’t have Scott’s leadership skills or Isaac’s brute strength, but he figured things out more quickly than the rest. No one could wield a bow and arrow the way Allison could under stressful situations. No one else predicted death or trouble the way Lydia did.
Stiles knew technically they weren’t all part of one big pack even if he thought it would be really beneficial for everyone involved if they were. He knew that probably wouldn’t happen. Not without a lot of time and effort and probably therapy for everyone. So basically it was never going to happen, he thought with an inward sigh.
“Being friends doesn’t obligate you to do that, Stiles. There’s not should or having to. That’s a choice you make because of your friendship and feelings for a person.”
That was how Cora saw it. She knew that Stiles considered her a friend, and she clearly felt the same. There was Erica and Isaac. But she wouldn’t expect them to fight for her or defend her if the hunters showed up. It was her problem. There was no obligation on their part beyond their personal friendship.
Friendship which she did find strange but was growing to accept as it being what it was. It was a word choice, really. Or she just had a different understanding because she didn’t have friends until showing back up in Beacon Hills.
“It does for me,” he said quietly. When it came down to it, there was virtually nothing that Stiles wouldn’t do for someone he cared about. He knew himself well enough to know that he’d kill for the people he loved, that he’d die for them. Fighting alongside them? Not that big of a deal, really. Granted, he wasn’t really a strong fighter, but he was learning a little at a time, and he was getting better at it even if it took him longer than he wanted.
“So. We’ll just hope it doesn’t happen at all but if it does...then we’ll deal with it,” he said again, turning his head to look at her, gaze intent. “Okay?”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing we’re doing the physical training as well as the pop culture lessons.”
It was her way of conceding that she accepted his friendship and his help. She might not understand it, and might not think he should feel obligated, she would accept it. Part of Cora had to wonder if she would ever get used to the fact that she had a friend and not forged in a bank vault. She still missed Boyd, she doubted that would ever go away, but she apparently she had formed friends even beyond him.
Looking to the side to meet his gaze, she just nodded.
“Yeah. We definitely hope they never show up.” Because really. One of the last things Beacon Hills needed.
He smiled faintly at her acceptance and he nodded, too. Good. “Hey, it’s about keeping things balanced, right? Not leaning too far one way or the other. Can’t OD on training or on pop culture. Neither one would be healthy. A nice mix of the two, though? That’s balance.”
Stiles glanced at the clock on his nightstand. It was approaching dinner time. “So...how are you in the kitchen? You like to cook?” he asked curiously, realizing it was something he didn’t know about her. He knew that it helped him relieve a little bit of stress, and he was pretty good at it, even if he generally preferred baking. He always had to give away all the baked goods since his dad couldn’t eat most of that kind of stuff.
The comment on keeping balance was met with an eye roll and slight smirk, even though her mind was still racing and she still had no idea on where to go after this. Really, what had become her life? It was difficult enough adjusting after years on the run, finding out her uncle was her father and a missing twin sister?
“Yeah, I guess.”
Or there was the comment about cooking and she blinked.
“Yeah, I’m okay at it.” She’d been about to cook for Stiles the first night back in Beacon Hills except Derek had shown up then and it had been back to the loft. “I can usually figure something out, at least. Why?”
Truthfully, she had no idea what time it was or that would be why he was asking. But it was something to focus on at least.
He didn’t catch the smirk, though he probably would have wondered what it was about if he had. He wasn’t really sure what this would all mean for the Hale’s, specifically for Cora. But he was sure eventually they’d figure it out. In the mean time, he’d try to help her clear her head for awhile.
“Well, it’s almost dinner time,” he explained, nodding toward the clock. “I thought maybe you could help me out. You know, if you want to. And then stay for dinner.” He arched his eyebrows, not sure how she’d feel about having dinner with him and his dad and Ariel, but wanting to make sure she knew she was welcome there with all of them, and not just him. “I try to make healthy stuff for Dad. His cholesterol is kind of higher than it should be.” Barely, but enough that it made Stiles worry.
Well, that explained it. Which did leave the question. Did she stick around for dinner, or face Derek. She didn’t think she was ready for that. She didn’t know if she’d ever be ready for that. She wasn’t one to run away from her problems. No, she was the one who rushed straight into things without thinking, fueled by rage and acting. But this was so beyond that.
“Sure. And I can do healthy.”
She could make anything that was necessary. It would be weird because well, the last time she actually spoke to the Sheriff had been when they were trying to explain the supernatural to him and she hadn’t ever actually interacted with Ariel. But if anything, it would at least give her a bit more time to try and wrap her mind around what she had just learned that afternoon. Maybe figure out what, if anything, to tell Derek. She didn’t want to admit she was afraid that it would change their dynamic, afraid he wouldn’t see her as his sister anymore, but deep down, that fear was gnawing at her, tugging at things she’d buried in her need to survive.
Stiles smiled at her, nodding and rising to his feet and holding his hand out to help her up. “Cool.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “It’s probably kind of strange, but cooking helps me clear my head. I think it’s because you have to really focus on what you’re doing, you know?” It also helped calm his anxiety when he was having issues with that, and here lately, he’d been cooking a lot. Way more than usual. And it was probably healthier than OD’ing on his Adderall, even if cooking didn’t do anything for keeping him awake at night.
He hadn’t slept walk in a couple of weeks -- since the alarm system had been installed, ironically enough. He supposed that was just how things worked. At least the alarm system would serve a double purpose, though.
He hesitated, glancing at her as they headed down the stairs side-by-side. “For what it’s worth...nothing you told me about changes things. We’re still friends.” His voice was quiet.
Taking the hand to be helped up, Cora brushed off her jeans and sighed. She had been curled up in that position for awhile now so standing and stretching was definitely a good thing. Especially as Stiles rambled about how cooking helped him clear his head.
“No, it’s not strange. But yeah, I get the reasoning why.”
And she did. While she really had only learned to cook because she had needed to, she had found that it at least grounded her. She may have had to move all the time, but cooking had been a constant of sorts in her life and like it or not, she needed that. Just as she held onto the family ties she had even when she didn’t know how much to trust anyone, she held onto cooking. Derek did cooking as well, but it was a shared duty.
Really, Cora should have expected there was an alarm, but she’d been far too distracted at the time. Instead, it was heading down to the kitchen, when Stiles mentioned that nothing changed and that he still considered her a friend. She didn’t know why she needed to hear that from him of all people, but it still was something.
“Thanks…”
Stiles offered her a small smile, nodding. “No problem.” He wasn’t sure how much being there was actually helping, but he hoped it at least helped a little. Sometimes that was all anyone could do.