To love a Werewolf

Chapter 1

“Stiles where the hell have you been all night!? What is that on your face?!” My father said to me as I walked through the door of our house. I knew he was talking about the black eye and busted lip I had. My clothes were covered in blood and my bat was hanging loosely from my fist. Dragging against the carpet; I was surprised to see him home at all. I thought he had the late shift tonight down at the station.

“Uhm… uh... well you see... Scott and I were… uhm we were…. Yah I have got nothing….”  I fumbled for words to explain what he was seeing but I couldn’t form any words so I just gave up. I was tired, emotionally and physically. With everything that was happening lately, lying to my dad. Making sure everything went smoothly trying to fight of supernatural creatures, keeping Scott from losing his anchor because he and Allison broke up.

Fighting off panic attacks, taking care of my dad, staying caught up in school, learning magic from Deaton, finding out everything I can about the new alpha pack and why they took Erica and Boyd. Just everything was piling up and I was just too tired to come up with some stupid lie that I knew my father did not believe in the first place. I am just so tired…

“What the hell has been going on Stiles!? You’ve been coming home so late, what is going on? Why is it you’re always caught up in all the bad things that happen?! Why won’t you tell me anything?” He started off yelling but at the end he just sound hurt, confused, and tired… He sounded as tired as I felt. “Dad I promise I will have Derek and Scott tell you everything tomorrow but right now I just want to take a hot shower and go to bed. I am covered in blood, mud, and other foresty things from the great outdoors, and some of them are in places that really itch!” I said walking away from him to my bedroom dropping the bat on the bathroom floor on the way there.

I grabbed a pair of worn out grey sweats along with a towel and a change of underwear. I turned and walked to the bathroom jumping into the shower turning it almost too hot to stand. Letting the water run down my body watching the blood, dirt and grime wash down the shower drain. I pulled down my shampoo and lathered it into my hair feeling the foamy bubbles run down my hands and onto my arms. As I washed it out I just enjoyed the scent and feel of it continuing on with the conditioner. Enjoying the soft feel of my hair, having let it grow out rather long now.

I let the water from the shower head race away that last traces of the conditioner from my hair. As I reached for the soap and brought it to my chest wincing as it ran over cuts, scratches, and scrapes across various places of my body. As I let the water wash away the last of the soapy suds I turned off the water and scrubbed my body dry from head to toe.

I pulled on my batman boxers chuckling softly, it reminding me of what I had said to Erica. She was catwomen and I was batman. Though I shut these thoughts down quickly because they just seemed to depress me more then I was already. I pulled on my grey sweats pulling them on over my scrawny white legs and pulled the drawstrings tight. Tying it in a bow to keep them secured to my waist and not fall down. I grabbed the bat from the floor and using the towel that I had just been using to scrub away the blood from its surface meticulosity. As I was finished I used some stain remover from the cabinet under the sink to best scrub out any stains in my clothes and my towel. My father had come in after my shower was down and just watched as I did these things.

I threw the clothes into the dirty hamper picking up the bat from the floor, walking to my room throwing the bat to one side of my room and jumping into bed, happily inhaling the smell of my bed. It smelt of the fabric softener we used and home. The tension slowly started to leave my body and the thundering of my heart and the tightness of my lungs that I was trying so hard to ignore was starting to receded.

“You seem like you have done this a lot Stiles.” My father said from the doorway of my room. The look on his face was one caught between shock, disbelieve, sadness… is that pity that I see there too? “After the eighth time you shot your gun it became second nature to you on how to use it. After everything that has happened I have learned how to stop my feelings and let instinct take over.” I simply said back to him, I could tell he was very shocked by my choice of words; “Dad go to bed and tomorrow everything will be explained.” I turned my head away from him and turned to look at the wall listening to his footsteps retreating and let sleep overcome me.