robinonadderall (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
robinonadderall) wrote2013-06-29 01:41 pm
robinonadderall) wrote2013-06-29 01:41 pm
Derek's Loft | Evening
Shockingly the internet had failed Stiles when it came to just how Beacon Hills First National bank was broken into, but by a stroke of luck his father had happened to be on the scene when the robbery occurred. Even more shocking, he had actually shared what happened with the minimal amount of suspicion.
After all, who would have thought Stiles was trying to break into an abandoned bank?
Stiles had to admit Derek's loft was pretty awesome. It was in the Gotham-y part of the city and had cool holes in the wall and giant windows and spiral stairs and...a velvet couch for some reason. Okay the velvet couch was kind of lame. But still, upgrade from the train depot and the Hale house.
He had acquired maps of the bank (it was easier to do than you would think) and had them spread out on a metal table that Derek had probably got dumpster diving. Scott and Derek were crowded beside him while he showed them the plans, while Peter was chilling on the spiral staircase. Just being Peter.
"Okay, see this? This is how they got in, it's a rooftop air conditioning vent. Leads down inside to the vault, which is here," Stiles said, circling the room on the map. "One of the robbers was lowered down into this shaft, a space that's so small it took them about 12 hours to drill into that wall which is stone, by the way. Then for the rest of the night they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof, that one little shaft on the wall, boom."
"Can we fit in there?" Scott asked, manfully resisting the urge to make a shaft joke.
"Yes we can but very, very barely," Stiles said. "They also patched the wall so we're gonna need a drill of some kind, I'm thinking a diamond bit---"
Derek shook his head. "Forget the drill."
"Sorry?" He worked hard on this plan, Derek!
"If I go in how much space do I have?" Derek asked.
Stiles lifted an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do, Derek, punch through the wall?"
Derek sighed and crossed his arms, like he just knew Stiles was going to fight him on this. "Yes, Stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall."
Stiles was not having this. "Okay, big guy, let's see it. Let's see that fist. Get it out there, don't be scared."
Surprisingly enough, Derek did hold up his fist. Oh, the jokes Stiles could make right now. Jokes and observations about how big Derek's hands were. Now was the time for neither. Stiles grabbed a hold of Derek's wrist with one hand and held his other hand a couple inches away from Derek's fist.
"Okay, big bad wolf, see this is maybe three inches before you have to punch through solid---" Derek suddenly punched Stiles hand and Stiles flew back, clutching his hand. Oh god his fingers had to be sprained or broken or something. Stiles cradled his hand to his chest and wandered off to face his pain with dignity. "He can do it!"
Derek didn't seem bothered by the fact he nearly punched Stiles' hand off. "I'll punch through the wall, who's following me down?"
"Don't look at me, I'm not up to fighting speed yet," Peter said. "And honestly? With Isaac out of commission you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."
"So I'm just supposed to let them die?" Derek asked.
"One of them is already dead," Peter reminded him.
"We don't know that." Still in denial, Derek was.
"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here? A pack of alphas, all of them killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, a reminder that two of them combine bodies to form one giant alpha," Peter said. "Sure, Erica and Boyd are sweet kids, they're gonna be missed."
"Can someone kill him again, please?" Stiles asked as he returned to the table. He was still clutching his hand but at least he didn't feel like he was going to cry anymore.
Peter shot Stiles a glare. "Derek, seriously, it's not worth the risk."
Derek frowned and looked in Scott and Stiles' direction. "What about you?"
Stiles nodded. "Yeah if you want me to come--"
"NOT YOU." Jeez, rude. Derek made sure to look at directly at Scott this time since there seemed to be some confusion on the silly human's part.
"I don't know about Erica, but if Boyd's still alive we have to do something. We have to try," Scott said. "But who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd?"
Scott, you wouldn't believe it if the narrative told you.
Derek and Scott left shortly after their little planning session, leaving Stiles alone in the loft with Peter. Great. Peter seemed content with relaxing on the couch, looking like he didn't have a care in the world, while Stiles was pacing in front of the giant window, checking his phone every five minutes.
"I can't wait around like this, you know?" Sure, Stiles didn't particularly like Peter, but he had to babble to someone when anxious. "It's nerve wracking. My nerves are wracked, they are severely wracked."
"I could beat you unconscious and wake you when it's over," Peter said cheerfully.
"Do you think Erica's really dead?" Stiles asked.
"Does it look like I care?" Sociopath here.
"I don't understand the bank though," Stiles said, not really caring if Peter was actually listening. "Like why wouldn't they chain them up in some underground lair or something? They're an alpha pack so shouldn't they have a lair?"
Peter rolled his eyes. "They're werewolves, not Bond villains."
"Wait a sec, maybe they're living there," Stiles suggested. "Maybe their little bank vault reminds them of their wolf dens."
"...wolf dens?"
"Yeah, wolf dens!" Stiles said. "Like, where do you live?"
"In a maze of underground caves hidden deep in the woods," Peter said seriously.
"Whoa! Really?" That was actually pretty badass.
"No, you idiot," Peter sighed. "I have an apartment downtown."
"Fine, but that just proves there's something up with the bank." He will not be silenced, Peter! "And why wait around for the full moon, huh? Why not just kill them whenever they want to?"
"Maybe they think it's poetic."
"They've already had three full moons to be poetic," Stiles reminded him.
"And here you've only had one full hour to be so annoying---" Whatever scathing insult Peter was about to lay on Stiles would have to wait because apparently it was time for Peter to look contemplative.
Stiles waved his hands around, encouraging Peter to finish. He liked having bitch-offs with the Hales. "No, go ahead, finish what you were saying, I'm annoying, what were you gonna say there?"
"What are the walls made of?" Peter asked.
"What?" Stiles looked around the room. "I don't know, like, wood and brick---"
"No, the vault, the vault. The walls, what are they made of?" Peter asked, getting up off the couch and going to look at the bank plans again. "Doesn't say anything. Where would it say materials, they type of stone?"
Stiles sifted through the papers on the desk before finding the papers he was looking for. "It's gotta be here--there, that's it."
"Hecatolite," Peter murmured.
"What is that, that sounds awful."
"Get them on the phone," Peter ordered. "Get them on the phone now!"
Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket, already finding Scott's number. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Hecatolite scatters the moonlight, blocks it out," Peter said. "Boyd and that other girl aren't gonna kill each other. They're gonna kill Derek and Scott."
Thankfully Scott had learned to answer the phone during a life and death situation that he's involved in. "Stiles, now is not the best time."
"Scott, you gotta listen to me, you gotta get out of there," Stiles said. "The walls of the vault are made of something called hecatolite, it scatters the moonlight."
"What does that even mean?!"
"It keeps the moonlight out," Stiles explained. "They haven't felt the moon in months."
Peter grabbed a hold of Stiles' wrist so he could speak into the phone. "Think of it like the gladiators in the coliseum, they used to starve the lions for three days to make them more vicious, more out of control. Deucalion has kept them from shifting for three full moons, diminishing their tolerance to it--"
"--Scott, they're going to be stronger--"
"--More savage, more bloodthirsty," Peter added. "They're the lions. They're the lions and you and Derek just stepped into the coliseum."
Peter had a wonderful way with metaphors, Stiles was willing to admit this. There was no answer from Scott's end of the line but he hadn't hung up. "Scott? Hey, Scott!"
"No! No wait!" Scott's worried voice could be heard from the other line though it was clear he wasn't speaking to Stiles.
"Scott, are you hearing this? Scott!" The line went dead moments later. Stiles could feel himself starting to panic and that isn't something he could let happen now. "Peter, what do we do?"
"I'm going to the bank," Peter said, grabbing his coat. "You are staying here."
"But---"
"Stay!"
Peter was out of the loft before Stiles could make any further argument. He didn't think it would do much good anyway. He was severely tempted to go to the bank anyway but a voice in his head (that sounded an awful lot like Derek's) told him there was a good chance he'd be ripped to shreds if he did. So he played the waiting game yet again.
His phone started buzzing sometime after minute thirty of the waiting game. Stiles was disappointed to see it was not Scott calling. "Lydia, now is not the best time."
"You better make time," Lydia hissed. "I've got a major problem!"
Stiles frowned. It couldn't possibly be worse than the problem at hand. "...what kind of problem?"
"I'm at the public pool and there is a dead guy!" she shouted. "Dead in the lifeguard chair covered in blood!"
What the fuck even was wrong with this town? "I'm on my way."
[Taken from Teen Wolf 3x02 "Chaos Rising" and a teeny bit from 3x03 "Fireflies". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine. One more post later]
After all, who would have thought Stiles was trying to break into an abandoned bank?
Stiles had to admit Derek's loft was pretty awesome. It was in the Gotham-y part of the city and had cool holes in the wall and giant windows and spiral stairs and...a velvet couch for some reason. Okay the velvet couch was kind of lame. But still, upgrade from the train depot and the Hale house.
He had acquired maps of the bank (it was easier to do than you would think) and had them spread out on a metal table that Derek had probably got dumpster diving. Scott and Derek were crowded beside him while he showed them the plans, while Peter was chilling on the spiral staircase. Just being Peter.
"Okay, see this? This is how they got in, it's a rooftop air conditioning vent. Leads down inside to the vault, which is here," Stiles said, circling the room on the map. "One of the robbers was lowered down into this shaft, a space that's so small it took them about 12 hours to drill into that wall which is stone, by the way. Then for the rest of the night they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof, that one little shaft on the wall, boom."
"Can we fit in there?" Scott asked, manfully resisting the urge to make a shaft joke.
"Yes we can but very, very barely," Stiles said. "They also patched the wall so we're gonna need a drill of some kind, I'm thinking a diamond bit---"
Derek shook his head. "Forget the drill."
"Sorry?" He worked hard on this plan, Derek!
"If I go in how much space do I have?" Derek asked.
Stiles lifted an eyebrow. "What are you gonna do, Derek, punch through the wall?"
Derek sighed and crossed his arms, like he just knew Stiles was going to fight him on this. "Yes, Stiles, I'm gonna punch through the wall."
Stiles was not having this. "Okay, big guy, let's see it. Let's see that fist. Get it out there, don't be scared."
Surprisingly enough, Derek did hold up his fist. Oh, the jokes Stiles could make right now. Jokes and observations about how big Derek's hands were. Now was the time for neither. Stiles grabbed a hold of Derek's wrist with one hand and held his other hand a couple inches away from Derek's fist.
"Okay, big bad wolf, see this is maybe three inches before you have to punch through solid---" Derek suddenly punched Stiles hand and Stiles flew back, clutching his hand. Oh god his fingers had to be sprained or broken or something. Stiles cradled his hand to his chest and wandered off to face his pain with dignity. "He can do it!"
Derek didn't seem bothered by the fact he nearly punched Stiles' hand off. "I'll punch through the wall, who's following me down?"
"Don't look at me, I'm not up to fighting speed yet," Peter said. "And honestly? With Isaac out of commission you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."
"So I'm just supposed to let them die?" Derek asked.
"One of them is already dead," Peter reminded him.
"We don't know that." Still in denial, Derek was.
"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here? A pack of alphas, all of them killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back into your stomach, a reminder that two of them combine bodies to form one giant alpha," Peter said. "Sure, Erica and Boyd are sweet kids, they're gonna be missed."
"Can someone kill him again, please?" Stiles asked as he returned to the table. He was still clutching his hand but at least he didn't feel like he was going to cry anymore.
Peter shot Stiles a glare. "Derek, seriously, it's not worth the risk."
Derek frowned and looked in Scott and Stiles' direction. "What about you?"
Stiles nodded. "Yeah if you want me to come--"
"NOT YOU." Jeez, rude. Derek made sure to look at directly at Scott this time since there seemed to be some confusion on the silly human's part.
"I don't know about Erica, but if Boyd's still alive we have to do something. We have to try," Scott said. "But who's the other girl? The one locked in there with Boyd?"
Scott, you wouldn't believe it if the narrative told you.
Derek and Scott left shortly after their little planning session, leaving Stiles alone in the loft with Peter. Great. Peter seemed content with relaxing on the couch, looking like he didn't have a care in the world, while Stiles was pacing in front of the giant window, checking his phone every five minutes.
"I can't wait around like this, you know?" Sure, Stiles didn't particularly like Peter, but he had to babble to someone when anxious. "It's nerve wracking. My nerves are wracked, they are severely wracked."
"I could beat you unconscious and wake you when it's over," Peter said cheerfully.
"Do you think Erica's really dead?" Stiles asked.
"Does it look like I care?" Sociopath here.
"I don't understand the bank though," Stiles said, not really caring if Peter was actually listening. "Like why wouldn't they chain them up in some underground lair or something? They're an alpha pack so shouldn't they have a lair?"
Peter rolled his eyes. "They're werewolves, not Bond villains."
"Wait a sec, maybe they're living there," Stiles suggested. "Maybe their little bank vault reminds them of their wolf dens."
"...wolf dens?"
"Yeah, wolf dens!" Stiles said. "Like, where do you live?"
"In a maze of underground caves hidden deep in the woods," Peter said seriously.
"Whoa! Really?" That was actually pretty badass.
"No, you idiot," Peter sighed. "I have an apartment downtown."
"Fine, but that just proves there's something up with the bank." He will not be silenced, Peter! "And why wait around for the full moon, huh? Why not just kill them whenever they want to?"
"Maybe they think it's poetic."
"They've already had three full moons to be poetic," Stiles reminded him.
"And here you've only had one full hour to be so annoying---" Whatever scathing insult Peter was about to lay on Stiles would have to wait because apparently it was time for Peter to look contemplative.
Stiles waved his hands around, encouraging Peter to finish. He liked having bitch-offs with the Hales. "No, go ahead, finish what you were saying, I'm annoying, what were you gonna say there?"
"What are the walls made of?" Peter asked.
"What?" Stiles looked around the room. "I don't know, like, wood and brick---"
"No, the vault, the vault. The walls, what are they made of?" Peter asked, getting up off the couch and going to look at the bank plans again. "Doesn't say anything. Where would it say materials, they type of stone?"
Stiles sifted through the papers on the desk before finding the papers he was looking for. "It's gotta be here--there, that's it."
"Hecatolite," Peter murmured.
"What is that, that sounds awful."
"Get them on the phone," Peter ordered. "Get them on the phone now!"
Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket, already finding Scott's number. "Why? What's wrong?"
"Hecatolite scatters the moonlight, blocks it out," Peter said. "Boyd and that other girl aren't gonna kill each other. They're gonna kill Derek and Scott."
Thankfully Scott had learned to answer the phone during a life and death situation that he's involved in. "Stiles, now is not the best time."
"Scott, you gotta listen to me, you gotta get out of there," Stiles said. "The walls of the vault are made of something called hecatolite, it scatters the moonlight."
"What does that even mean?!"
"It keeps the moonlight out," Stiles explained. "They haven't felt the moon in months."
Peter grabbed a hold of Stiles' wrist so he could speak into the phone. "Think of it like the gladiators in the coliseum, they used to starve the lions for three days to make them more vicious, more out of control. Deucalion has kept them from shifting for three full moons, diminishing their tolerance to it--"
"--Scott, they're going to be stronger--"
"--More savage, more bloodthirsty," Peter added. "They're the lions. They're the lions and you and Derek just stepped into the coliseum."
Peter had a wonderful way with metaphors, Stiles was willing to admit this. There was no answer from Scott's end of the line but he hadn't hung up. "Scott? Hey, Scott!"
"No! No wait!" Scott's worried voice could be heard from the other line though it was clear he wasn't speaking to Stiles.
"Scott, are you hearing this? Scott!" The line went dead moments later. Stiles could feel himself starting to panic and that isn't something he could let happen now. "Peter, what do we do?"
"I'm going to the bank," Peter said, grabbing his coat. "You are staying here."
"But---"
"Stay!"
Peter was out of the loft before Stiles could make any further argument. He didn't think it would do much good anyway. He was severely tempted to go to the bank anyway but a voice in his head (that sounded an awful lot like Derek's) told him there was a good chance he'd be ripped to shreds if he did. So he played the waiting game yet again.
His phone started buzzing sometime after minute thirty of the waiting game. Stiles was disappointed to see it was not Scott calling. "Lydia, now is not the best time."
"You better make time," Lydia hissed. "I've got a major problem!"
Stiles frowned. It couldn't possibly be worse than the problem at hand. "...what kind of problem?"
"I'm at the public pool and there is a dead guy!" she shouted. "Dead in the lifeguard chair covered in blood!"
What the fuck even was wrong with this town? "I'm on my way."
[Taken from Teen Wolf 3x02 "Chaos Rising" and a teeny bit from 3x03 "Fireflies". NFI, NFB but OOC is fine. One more post later]