Narrative & Text messages Who: Stiles Where: The Stilinski House of Bitter Disappointment When: Sunday, August 26th, the day after this What: Narrative and a few texts (To the pack in general, and specific ones to Scott and Derek. Feel free to reply to texts in a subthread.) Rating: Probably lots of off-color language. Stiles is not happy.
Stiles had been all too happy that his dad was pulling yet another all-nighter and wasn't home to hear him come in, cursing werewolves and their cunning, lying ways. It had been somewhat out of character for him to be so gullible in the first place, but he really had bought into the lie that they needed to approach the Allison hostage situation on two fronts.
He knew how the Hales loved to keep their cards very close to the vest and, for once, he hadn't pushed for a lot of details under the very well played assumption that the walls might have ears. But as the night wore on, it became more and more obvious there were no Alphas within miles of their location, until Stiles threw an unholy tantrum that made that other Hale guy Brennan wince. At least someone felt guilty, Stiles had thought. GOOD!
He had been livid coming home, and he had kept randomly ranting and raving about his hatred of werewolfkind, lying cheating liars, and people who generally sucked well into the wee hours, when he wasn't passed out in his chair glaring at the computer screen. He did it for the benefit of any of his furry bodyguards who might be skulking around the house. He finally crawled over to bed and slept fitfully until his dad called up sometime mid-morning.
"Stiles! Coffee!"
Stiles opened his eyes with a sharp intake of breath through his nose. His neck hurt. He blinked at his surroundings and established he was in his room even as his father's voice registered in his sleepy brain. His dad. The only person in the world who really tried his best never to lie to Stiles. Unlike a bunch of werewolves he knew. Bitter disappointment set in. Stiles had really thought that, after all this time, the pack might freaking trust him a little more than this. And by the pack he meant Derek, not that he would admit to it.
"Gimme a minute," he called out in a croaky voice. The sheriff wasn't going to nag, or reply. He'd let Stiles come downstairs in his own time. He just wanted to spend some time with his son.
Stiles washed up and brushed his teeth, feeling more sad and betrayed by the minute. It was mid-morning and he hadn't heard from anyone. At this point he would have welcomed the stupid Creeper Wolf climbing in through his window before dawn to give him a status report or, you know, push him against walls and threaten bodily harm like he was wont to do. Not Stiles' first choice of hobbies, but to each their own, he supposed.
He typed his first text hastily before going downstairs to meet his dad.
You're all dead to me
Halfway through coffee, he typed furiously some more while his dad read the paper.
You suck. Every last one of you. See if I ever do any research for you ever *ever again Half of u would be dead w/o my help. That's gratitude for you.
He answered his dad's question as to where he'd been last night with a simple, "Scavenger hunt." He then sat back and let his dad lecture him on the dangers of doing that in this day and age, particularly since there had been some violent incidents lately and to be careful. He sneaked two more text messages during all that. The first one went to Derek.
You suck most of all. Changing your nick to Assholewolf
The next one went to Scott.
You're officially the worst best friend in the history of ever.
When none of those got him a response prompt enough for his hyperactive brain, he sent another mass text.
What the HELL happened last night? Where is everybody?
And now he was worried, on top of bitterly disappointed. Have we mentioned the bitter disappointment? Still, when his dad said he had to go to the store, Stiles offered.
"You were working all night, dad. There's this thing now called resting. You should give it a try. It's all right. I'll go. I'm having an extra hyper day, so I should do stuff and... move, or something. You just chill." He was already running halfway up the stairs to get into his jeans when his dad called out something about disowning him if he even tried to get him to eat tofu bacon ever again. It made Stiles crack a smile.
It also made Stiles think of all the lies he told his dad to protect him. Was that what Derek and the pack were doing with him? Protecting him? Well, it sucked. He supposed all those lies were coming back to bite him in the ass, after all. Nearly instant karma was as much a bitch as its time delayed cousin. Stiles decided he still hated them all. He also checked his phone ever six to eight seconds to see if anyone had replied and he had somehow missed it. Seriously, though. Where the hell was everybody?