Hopeless Opus (Sterk One-Shot)

Hopeless Opus

Hopeless Opus

"Bottling sun in an hourglass upside down but don't look back.  Over and over.  Taking on the wind cause we never learn, start a fire just to watch it burn.  Over and over.  Kids, kids, kids are gonna do what they want"

The shrill sound of Stiles' phone roused him quickly from his sleep, and he jumped, sitting up quickly, grabbing around on his counter for the device, knocking over quite a few things in the process.  For the past week the pack had been searching for a witch, and Derek had put Stiles on the sideline after he received a concussion after being thrown into a wall.  He had grumbled something along the lines of 'You lack the supernatural ability to heal, so until you do, you're sitting out' and Stiles hadn't had time to argue because Derek had already been gone.

    "Hello?" He asked into the receiver when he finally answered the call.  Screams instantly met his ears- it didn't take supernatural hearing to pick them up- but they weren't bad screams.  They reminded Stiles of young children laughing.

    "Um..." Derek began, and it sounded as if he was walking away because the noise faded slightly.

    "Why does it sound like you're creeping on a preschool?" Stiles asked, and he heard Derek let out a huge breath of air.

    "The witch...she cast a spell on the pack," Derek explained, and by the tone of his voice, Stiles was pretty sure no one was dead.  He sounded more annoyed rather than angry (Derek's mainstream emotion when it came to just about anything).  "She literally shrunk them all to toddler size," he added, and suddenly, the screams in the background made sense. 

    "Oh my God!" Stiles laughed, and Derek huffed out an angry sound.

    "This is not funny!" He growled, "Erica bit me!" He added angrily, and Stiles couldn't stop the stream of chuckles that escaped him.

"That's something I could imagine her doing full size," Stiles noted, and he swore he heard Derek mumble in agreement.  "Do you, um, need help?" Stiles asked tentatively.  He could imagine Derek pacing around pinching the bridge of his nose with the same pained look he had on his face every time he had been forced to talk to Jackson.  That's how annoyed he was.

"Yes!" Derek all but shouted his answer, as if he expected Stiles to change his mind

    "Good, because I wasn't going to take no for an answer no matter what you said. The last thing we need is for you to go to jail for killing a little toddler sized werewolf.  Oh my God they're werewolves!  Does that change anything?" Stiles asked curiously as he frantically tried to dress himself without making too much noise.  His father was sleeping and Stiles figured he could leave him a note.  The only advantage to this situation was that it was summer, so there was no need to worry about what they would do for school.

    "They're stronger, have more energy, and grow fangs, you tell me Stiles!" Derek said exasperatedly.  "Scott, get off of me!  Isaac, stop crying and get up," Derek growled at the (what Stiles assumed) were the toddler versions of his pack.

    "Hey big guy-" Derek growled- "Try being a little more tender with the tots.  They're fragile," Stiles scolded him.

    "Erica is currently attempting to tears through the flesh of my leg, Boyd thinks everything is a jungle gym and he's going to fall, and Isaac had been crying for the past fifteen minutes!  Not to mention Scott is climbing me!" Derek exclaimed, and Stiles laughed at the panic in the werewolf's (alpha werewolf may he add) voice.

    "You sound like a worried mother!  Hang in there buddy, I'll be over to the loft ASAP, okay?" Stiles said as he snatched the keys to the jeep.