In too Deep ((Sterek #1))

Chapter Four: Starting Point

*Stiles

Stiles dropped his stuff on the ground, glad that they finally found a place to camp. They'd been walking for an hour at least, and his crap was heavy. Luckily, Derek was nice enough to carry the tent for him, so he didn't have to worry about it.

Stiles let out a huff as he sat down on the ground to rest a moment before he had to set up the tent. "Did we really have to walk this far to find a camping spot?" he asked, kind of breathing heavily.

Derek chuckled softly, "No, I suppose we didn't," he said and hid a smirk before dropping his bags as well. He tossed the tent over to Stiles because he honestly had no idea how to put the thing up. "But I also didn't hear any complaints, so I figured you were good," he said.

"Rapid breathing and sped up heart rate wasn't clue enough for ya," Stiles asked sarcastically with a shake of his head before pushing himself back up onto his feet and grabbed the tent. He pulled everything out of the bag and went about setting it up. "Looked like you knew where you were going," he said and looked at Derek for a moment. "Come here often?" he asked, meaning when he was all wolfed out.

Derek shook his head slightly, "Nah, only once. A very long time ago. It was the first and only time I ever went camping," he smiled before sitting on the ground. "What about you?" he asked because he didn't want to talk about his experience.

Stiles nodded slightly, "Yeah but not since my mom died. We used to go out every year and make a weekend of it. My dad tried to keep it going after she got sick, and then once she was gone, but it just wasn't the same, so we just stopped doing it," he said and awkwardly started slipping the poles into place. He wasn't very good at this either. "We used to have a bunch of camping stuff, but my dad must have gotten rid of it all cause this was all I could find," he said and shrugged slightly.

Derek nodded slightly, remembering that Stiles' mom had died from some type of dementia that he couldn't remember the name of "How old were you when she died?" he asked, kind of curious.

Stiles thought a moment, "Ten, I think," he said, it was either that or eleven. He went quite a moment as he went back to working on putting up the tent, almost falling over a few times.

Derek chuckled softly at Stiles' attempts at putting up the tent, it was pretty hilarious and kind of cute.... wait, what? Derek shook his head slightly and let out a small sigh. "So, uh, do you remember anything about your mother?" he asked since Stiles had been pretty young when she died.

Stiles nodded slightly, "Yeah, I remember some," he said and smiled as he walked around the tent to stake it down. "Though a lot of my memories involve her being sick," he said with a frown before tripping slightly over one of the corners of the tent. He swore under his breath and sighed before bending down and putting in the final stake.

Derek chuckled when Stiles tripped over the tent but quickly sobered up again since what they were talking about really wasn't something to laugh about. "What do you remember?" he asked a few moments later.

Stiles walked around the tent and sat on the ground next to his crap, "Ummm, before she got real bad, she was the nicest and funniest person I knew," he said with a smile. "I mean, where do you think I got it from? Sure as hell wasn't my father. He ain't funny," he snorted and shook his head slightly. He chuckled softly. "When I was really young, she always let me sit on her lap and 'steer' when she was driving in town," he said, putting air quotes around steer since she was still doing most of the work. "Every time we went camping, we would light the fire and make s'mores, and once it got dark, she would tell scary stories. Every time it was a different one, and they were always so elaborate and fascinating," he said. "Just the way she spoke when she was telling them could pull you into the story-line," he said and chuckled softly. "It's been over eight years, but I still miss her," he said with a small nod. "I was there when she died, my dad wasn't, though. He was working, I guess," he said and shrugged as he looked down at his hands for a moment. He didn't like thinking about his mom, so he quickly changed the subject. "So what was so bad about your camping experience that you never went on another one?"