#sterek;

                                                             The end of the world was a Tuesday.

                    Stiles had been in Health class, bored out of his mind because it had been the one class that he hadn't had with Scott, Allison and Lydia. He being the only one that opted to take Health later in the school year for the credit requirements rather than in the beginning. It had started like the movies. Caleb, one of the new transfer students, was sick. Looked like death warmed over -- Derek had looked better when he had been poisoned by the bullet than this kid did. He coughed a lot during class, and people moved their desks further away from him so not to get sick. Then he had keeled over. Slipped out of his desk and fell to the floor. Around that time, Stiles heard a few screams happening from other classrooms. 

                    Anxiety kicked in as Mrs. Jones rushed over to Caleb and had shook him, said that he was burning up and for someone to go get the nurse. It was the Twilight Zone. The screams got louder, followed by running outside and when the other student opened the door to run out to get the nurse, Stiles could see the few student who were running as if they saw a ghost. That was when Caleb decided to come around and take a chunk from their teachers throat. Stiles instantly knew, or assumed the worst. The screaming started, and Stiles grabbed his backpack and snatched out his cellphone and the keys to his jeep. By time he made it out, the halls were crowded.

                    The movie rules told him that this was a bad thing.

                    He turned the nearest corner to get out of the mass. The first person he called was his dad, but the phone was busy. The second was Scott, but he didn't answer. Lydia and Allison weren't answering either as he took the long way around to get out of the school rather than take the main route. Useless movie trivia ran through his mind because he knew what this had been and understood now why no one actually said the word out loud. It made things too real to say zombies. But, like the movies, everything seemed to happen fast. The infection spread quickly throughout the school but by time Stiles made it to his jeep there was no worries about it. He called everyone again. First, again was his dad. 'Dad, stay out of crowds and you know, aim for the head'. Scott was next as he shakingly put the keys into the ignition. 'Scott! Scott! Come on man, where are you - get out of the school!'. He waited, watched as students were attacked and others ran. He waited for Scott, and Allison and Lydia -- Isaac and the others he was sure could handle themselves. 

                    Going to Derek's - Stiles, be careful. Lydia, Allison and others with me.

                    The text message from Scott read. Stiles breathed a sigh of relief and nearly jumped out of his skin when a girl slammed into the side of his jeep and tried to open the lock door. She screamed for help, but Stiles saw the bite mark on her shoulder and freaked out. He peeled out of the parking lot and drove. It was worse the further into town he got, and his driving didn't help as he kept recalling his dad. 'Dad? I'm going to Derek's. I just texted you his address. Meet me there, that's an order from your son!'. Many messages were left. None were answered. Derek's loft had been before the police station, which is where Stiles had thought about going before a few key facts hit him. Maybe werewolves were immune to being infected. Maybe Derek could actually help. Stiles loved Scott like a brother, but the older werewolf was a bit more stronger and faster when it came to the action packed things. He had slammed the brakes and jumped the sidewalk when he reached Derek's building and knocked over the No Parking sign. The keys were taken because he knew someone would still his jeep and that was not going to happen. Maybe Scott and the others were already there. Maybe Derek had no idea what was happening but if he didn't, he had to help Stiles at least save his father. He would spare the Broody One if he did that. His heart was racing as he took the stairs two at a time and by time he reached the loft's front door he couldn't breath.

                                        Stiles may have been slightly upset that his best friend in the world had not only nearly killed him with a baseball bat but that he did not want to head out in the woods, at night, to see a possible dead body. Granted, he understood that his friends medical condition had started to worsen in the last few weeks but he thought perhaps fresh air would do him good. Apparently, Scott had other ideas and provided him with a baseball bat if there happened to be wolves in the woods. Not that there had been wolves in California for years. Bears though; not that the bat would defend him against those. Or mountain lions. He may have started to rethink his own plan now that he was out in the woods now with a wooden baseball bat and his red hoodie with the hood drawn up over his head. Slowly, the teenager figured out how likely would his death be had he actually been attacked. If he could make it back to the jeep on the road before he became somethings midnight nummy treat. The likely end of it all would a mountain lion peeking his or her teeth with Stiles bone ala Scar from The Lion King.

                "Get it together Stilinski!" Stiles told himself and raised the bat to eye level and pointed it down a dark path defiantly. "Your dad's the sheriff, there hasn't been an animal attack in this area for years -- then again people aren't stupid enough to go in the woods looking for a dead body that might exist. After all it was Deputy Hinks that reported it so it might have just been a trash bag." Stiles stopped, sighed loudly and ran his hand over his shaved head to push back the hoodie and look up at the sky. "And now you're talking to yourself. Brilliant Stilinski, you've lost it." There was a noise, the kind that Stiles expected to hear in a horror movie. Instantly, the bat was drawn up and held up with his elbows bent. His eyes alert to the shadows that flickered around him from the wind. Even the sound of his walking and crushing dried leaves became near deafening to him as he eased himself into the woods further. Instead of running in the opposite direction. That had been a better idea.

                                This had to be against a law in some cosmetic way, or it was that someone upstairs had a sick mind and wanted to see Stiles suffer in some way. He wanted to go with that option. Derek Hale, the grand old master of sour, had agreed to take him to not only one school dance but too. It had been something to process. First, the process started with why in the seven levels of Donkey Kong had he asked Derek in the first place? Second, the process continued with why in the name of Lara Croft and her unlimited handgun ammo had possessed Derek to agree? The conclusion had calculated to that either Stiles was insane, Derek was insane, or that he had been trapped in a sitcom of hilarity outtakes and endeavours. Had that been the case, Stiles had started to think about time slots, and days that his sitcom would air. The theme song, and the cast of characters. It pretty much dominated his entire thought process until Saturday rolled around and he finally had decided that the show would air for six seasons and have it's own made-for-television movie that would resolve any unanswered questions about plot and characterization.

                                Maybe Stiles was insane.

Stiles purring because Derek is scratching his back.  (◡‿◡✿)

Stiles head bumping Derek because he's being scratched behind the ears.  (⊙‿⊙✿)

Stiles casually fumbling all over Derek until he gets attention. (◡‿⊙✿)

Stiles kneading Derek's chest while they are snuggled up in bed together so he can get comfortable. (◠‿◕✿)

Stiles casually plotting to take over the world whilst lounging in a ray of sunlight.  (▰˘◡˘▰)

Stiles sharpening his claws on Derek's furniture because he says that's what cats are supposed to do.

(づ｡◕‿◕｡)づ