Hale House | Early Evening

[robinonadderall]

Stiles really wanted to know why the rotting remains of Derek's childhood home was even a meetup place. He wasn't surprised to hear that the county had taken a hold of it. Maybe they'll turn it into a playground or something. It'd be very Mockingjay of them.

He probably should have been surprised to see a half-naked and unconscious Isaac laying on a table when he got inside but, no, he wasn't. Scott assured him he'd be fine. Not that Stiles asked. He was still a little bitter from the time Isaac beat him up to get to Lydia.



As much as Stiles disliked Isaac, he did think it was a little inappropriate that Scott and Derek were focusing on the issue of a tattoo instead of him. Scott was sitting in what probably used to be a chair while Derek hovered over him. Stiles, meanwhile, was standing off to the side and wondering where the hell Derek bought those jeans because, Christ, they should be illegal. Ugh, no, stop looking, Derek was an asshole. But those jeans.

Luckily Derek and Scott were too busy focusing on the tattoo business to pay him any mind. Derek was inspecting Scott's bicep, eyes glowing red because apparently werewolves had special tattoo seeing powers. "Yeah, I see it. Two bands, right? What does it mean?"

"I don't know. Just something I trace with my fingers," Scott said, tracing two circles into the dust on the floor. That was a boob, Scott. You were drawing a boob into what might've been the remains of a dead Hale.

"Why is this so important to you?" Derek asked.

"Do you know what tattoo means?" Scott asked.

Stiles leaned over towards Derek. "It means to mark something." He followed that up with a wink. Oh god, why did he wink? Stupid jeans!

"In Samoan in means 'open wound'. I knew I wanted a tattoo when I turned eighteen, I always wanted one," Scott said. "I decided to get it now as a reward, for not calling or texting Allison all summer."

Oh god, this was the dumbest thing Stiles had ever heard. Why couldn't he be Isaac right now?

"Even when I really wanted to, even when it was so hard not to sometimes, I just tried to give her the space she wants."

Annnnd at the mention of space Stiles stopped mocking Scott in his head and frowned. He and Derek better not be Scott and Allison expys.

"Almost four months later and it still hurts," Scott said. "It feels like--"

"--an open wound," Stiles finished. Kind of cheesy, but Stiles at least felt like Scott's tattoo wasn't a complete waste of time like his own now.

Surprisingly, Derek have a smartass remark for that spiel, which made Stiles wonder just what the hell happened over the last four months in Beacon Hills. He did give out an oh-so-cheerful, "Pain's gonna be worse than anything you've ever felt."

"Let's do it," Scott said like the big dumb puppy he was.

Then Derek brought out a blowtorch.

Stiles felt his stomach lurch. "Ah, you know, that's a lot for me. So I'm gonna take that as my cue to wait outside--"

His attempt to flee outside was stopped by Derek throwing out his hand and slapping Stiles really hard on the chest. "I need help holding him down."

Stiles didn't know how much of a help he was gonna be with that, but he didn't want to get hit again so he stepped up behind Scott and held down his shoulders as best he could. Derek got the blowtorch going and held it up to Scott's arm.

"Oh god," Stiles mumbled weakly. This was it, Stiles was going to throw up in front of these people. He knew he shouldn't watch but he couldn't look away when Derek held up the blowtorch to Scott's arm and started, well, he was pretty much burning Scott alive. Scott reacted just as Stiles expected him to. With a lot of screaming and writhing.

"Hold him!" Derek ordered.

Did everyone forget he was a human here?! Stiles tried to hold Scott down as best he could but it didn't really do much. Luckily (?) the pain must have gotten too much for him and Scott passed out a few moments later.

Which left Derek and Stiles alone with two unconscious werewolves. Stiles let go of Scott while Derek finished up, marveling at the fact that a blowtorch somehow made tattoos show up on werewolves.

"I really don't think a tattoo is worth all that pain," Stiles said, wandering over to where Isaac was laying.

"It is if it means something," Derek said as he turned the blowtorch off. "He'll come to soon--Stiles, stop poking Isaac."

Stiles jerked his hand away from Isaac's chest. "I wasn't!"

Derek rolled his eyes and set the blowtorch aside. "Sure you weren't."

"What happened to him?" Stiles asked. "What really happened to him, I mean? He shouldn't have been in the hospital in the first place, he's a werewolf."

"It doesn't involve you, Stiles," Derek said. "It doesn't involve Scott either. He should have never been called to the hospital."

Stiles tilted his head, like he was looking at Derek closely for the first time. Not just becuase of the jeans. "You seem different."

Derek lifted a shoulder. "Been a long summer."

He was desperate to ask what that meant, but Scott was shifting and groaning, slowly coming back to consciousness. Scott blinked his eyes open and looked at his now tattooed arm and then over at Derek and Stiles. "It worked."

Derek was quick to try to shuffle Stiles and Scott out of the house, presumably to get them out of there before Isaac woke up. Curiosity was killing him, but Stiles knew better than anyone what a stubborn ass Derek could be.

"That tattoo looks pretty damned on there now," Stiles said as they headed towards the door.

"I kinda needed something permanent after everything that's happened to us," Scott said. "Everything changes so fast. Everything's so...ephemeral."

Stiles paused for a few moments. "...studying for the PSAT's?"

"Yep!" Scott opened the front door but stopped suddenly, almost causing Stiles to run right into him. "Who painted the door?"

Stiles hadn't noticed when he came in, too eager to tell Scott about the killer birds, but now that he was looking closely he could see that it had a fresh coat of red paint. Weird, considering the rest of the house was such a shithole.

Scott seemed to have the same idea. "Derek, why did you paint the door?"

Derek gave Scott a look that Stiles could only describe as...well, sad and resigned. Like he already knew this was going to end badly. "Go home, Scott."

Scott flicked out his claws. "And why only on one side?"

"Scott!" Derek tried to move to stop Scott but it was too late. Scott started scratching frantically at the door, sending bits of paint and wood flying through the air. Stiles had to take a few steps back to avoid getting hit by door shrapnel. As the paint peeled away Stiles saw that it had been covering up a symbol. It looked like a harsher version of Derek's triskele.

Eventually Scott stopped clawing at Derek's door and turned towards them, looking furious. "The birds at school, the deer that night, just like the deer on the night I got bit by the alpha. How many are there?"

Derek sighed. "A pack of them. An alpha pack."

Stiles' eyes widened. "All of them? How does that even work?"

"There's some kind of a leader, he's called Deucalion," Derek said. "We know they have Boyd and Erica. Peter, Isaac and I have been looking for them for the past four months."

Stiles pressed his lips together. Holy god, that was something you told people, Derek! What even.

"So you find them," Scott said. "How do you deal with an alpha pack?"

"With all the help I can get."

Noise and movement from the room over drew everyone's attention away from the conversation at hand. Isaac stumbled into the room, looking confused and bleary-eyed. "Where is she? Where's the girl?"

It was almost comforting that Derek looked as confused as Scott and Stiles did. "What? What girl?"

Dead birds, an alpha pack and now mysterious girls. Well it wouldn't be a trip home without confusion and impending death.



[One episode down, eleven to go. Taken from Teen Wolf 3x01 "Tattoo". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine]