Waiting for the pack to come round to the old Hale house/new pack house was almost excruciating. Knowing that there was a pack meeting and then pack night to be had made Derek feel... well happy? It was almost terrifying if it didn't make him want to smile. Derek liked to think that he was becoming to be a better person, a better friend, a better father/older brother figure to the others in the pack and ultimately a better Alpha. They had defiantly had enough trial and error, what with a psychotic Peter, then a psychotic Gerard Argent, then a psychotic Jennifer, then an Alpha pack (also somewhat psychotic), then of course the nogitsune (the memories seeing Stiles like that still sends shivers down his spine), then the dead pool and of course the dread doctors and Theo's pack. Also all the other supernatural creatures in between, rogue omegas, faeries (curse those stupid buggers) and witches, to only name a few.
He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of the slick wheels of a Porsche followed by the rumbling of a motor bike engine and the laboured acceleration of that goddamned jeep. He peered over at Peter who just rolled his eyes and flipped over to the next page in the large leather bound book in his lap with a light snort of amusement at the noise the puppies made as they bundled up the porch. Scott and Issac rushed into the living room first, Scott continued into the kitchen and got out glasses for the two of them while Isaac flung himself over the back of one of the two love seats, sprawling out on the deep blue fluffy blanket (picked out by Lydia, of course). The next to enter the room was Cora who walked past Derek who sat in the arm chair that Stiles dubbed the 'Alpha's thrown' or 'Sourwolf's seat', patted her older brother on the head and very ungracefully plonked herself face down on the three sitter sofa with her head in Peter's lap, who just adjusted his book and began to carefully run his fingers through his niece's hair.
The pack continued to flow into the room at a steady rate. Boyd and Erica came in together holding hands as Erica led Boyd over to the large silver-grey bean bag on the floor next to the fire place and the two mates lowered down into the seat and curled around each other so easily it made Derek's wolf coo and whine. Next came Jackson and Lydia, the latter of the two who commanded Jackson to get her a drink before coming to join her on the remaining love seat where she elegantly sat under the cream blanket. Allison slunk into the room with her hunter's grace and went to sit next to Cora on the sofa, gently lifting the other girls legs and placing them back onto her lap once seated with a gentle smile shining on her face. The final person walked into the room. Stiles. Stiles who walked into the kitchen, unceremoniously dumped his bag onto the closest counter, rummaged around in a pocket of his jeans, fished out his keys and stumbled back into the living room. He watched as Stiles looked at the rest of the pack, a different sort of smile spread over Stiles face, not his normal wide and toothy shit eating grin, something about this one was different, he didn't know what. Stiles' shit eating grin returned after the shake of a head, "I'm going back into town to get stuff to cook with" his eyes shifted to Derek "and milk and bread" a little chuckle escaped the 18 year-olds lips, "anyone want anything". Silence. "Yeah didn't think so" Stiles continued with a stretching grin. Gees did he ever not have that stupid grin.
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It was half an hour before the pack heard the jeeps engine again, all of the pups and Peter's eye spun to the door, all with different degrees of confusion. It was Jackson who spoke up first "Wasn't Stilinski already here?". I looked at him with a blank stare, "seriously?" he just tilted his head to the right in quiet question. The whole pack still was directed toward the door as there was a grunt herd, the slam of an old car door, then the crunching of leaves and another grunt as the door swung open to reveal a slightly dishevelled Stiles. The boy was framed by the door hair sticking all over the place thanks to the wind outside, a dusting of red across his cheek bones and on his slightly upturned nose from the slight nip in the air and seven shopping bags wound around his arms. Once noticing that he had the attention of the pack on him he let out a nervous chuckle and a slight smile while kicking the door closed with a converse clad foot and stumbling with the bags to the kitchen.
YOU ARE READING
Walls, Masks and Plaid Shirts (Book One of the 'Plaid Shirts' series)
Fiksi PenggemarStiles knows, he knows what they think of him, what they say behind his back, he knows that they don't need him. The pack don't mean to, they just don't see it before it's gone to far. Can they save stiles from falling into the bottomless pit they...
