Chapter Text
Stiles eyes’ are fixed on the clock in his hospital room, watching every second tick by. He’s annoyed, just in a general sort of way, because five o’clock is not anywhere near close enough. His little foray into the woods had cost him an extra day in the hospital – not because he actually hurt himself, but because by the time everything was settled, the doctor taking care of him had gone off shift.
Despite voluble protests from, well, everybody, Stiles had decided to go back to the hospital in the same way he had left. Derek had carried him back up and through the window. He had gotten settled into the bed. Scott had hooked up the IV and reattached all the sensors before turning the monitors back on. “Your heart rate is a little high, but steady,” he had said.
Ten minutes later, one of the nurses going by had seen that Stiles was back. A predictable kerfluffle had followed. Stiles had allowed them to fuss over him, and had explained his not-so-dramatic return with, “Yeah, my dad called me and told me to get my ass back to the hospital.” It’s a fair bet that everyone involved knew that there was more going on than he had said, but fortunately nobody pushes the issue. He’s pretty sure that they’re now more convinced than ever that he’s on drugs, despite his negative tox screen, and was trying to avoid trouble.
He’s also sure that they could have found another doctor who could discharge him, but nobody’s discussing that possibility. If this is his punishment, he’ll accept it. But he’s going out of his mind with boredom. The nurses wouldn’t let him take his Adderall because of God-knew-what-else was in his system, so he’s been three quarters insane all day.
This isn’t to say that it hasn’t been an interesting day. He’s certainly had his share of visitors.
Justin and Ravinder turned up at about half past noon. How they got past the nurses, Stiles does not know, and he didn’t ask. “We just thought we’d let you know we’re on our way out of town,” Justin said. “So you don’t have to worry about us lurking.”
“’Preciate it,” Stiles said.
Justin nodded a little. “Thanks. For . . . everything, I guess.”
Stiles gave a shrug. “I owed you a little, so I guess it all evens out.”
Justin looked at where Derek was curled up on the foot of the bed, back in the ridiculous blue vest. His chin was resting on Stiles’ thigh. “Got it all worked out, then?” he said.
“Yeah,” Stiles said. “We’re cool.”
“If you have more questions about wolf stuff . . . well, you’ve got my number,” Justin said. “I’ll see you around.”
He turned and left then. Ravinder gave Stiles a nod and said, “I hope the next time we meet, it will be under better circumstances.” He pressed his hands together and gave that little half bow. “Namaste.”
Stiles returned the gesture, a little clumsily, but got the idea across, and then waved as the two of them left the room. He collapsed back against the pillows and gave a little sigh.
His father had been in and out all morning, updating him on what was going on. No bodies have been found in the woods, and they were far enough away from civilization that nobody called the police about the gunshots. Presumably, Chris has taken care of everything on his end, and Stiles isn’t particularly worried about it. But when his father came in around two, he sat down and gave Stiles a serious look.
“Son,” he said, and Stiles groaned, “I’ve been thinking about your punishment.”
“Oh boy,” Stiles said. Derek looked up, made a little chuffing noise, and then appeared to go back to sleep.
“See, I have a problem,” Sheriff Stilinski said. “Pretty much any punishment I can give you is either cruel and unusual due to your . . . peculiar circumstances . . . or it’s self-punishing. I can’t ground you, because the rest of the pack would freak out, and although I’m not exactly pleased with them for aiding and abetting your little escape plan, it’s not their fault that you took wolfsbane. I can’t take your phone because then I won’t know where you are or be able to call and check in with you. I can’t take your computer because then your ADD would drive all of us crazy. I’ve considered just taping your mouth shut with duct tape, but I’m pretty sure that would be considered child abuse.”
“Man, I can see your dilemma,” Stiles said. “I guess you just won’t be able to punish me.”
His father nodded solemnly. “In fact,” he said, “I intend to take you out to dinner.”
Stiles blinked. He sensed a trap. “Dinner . . .?”
“Yes,” his father said. “How about the Outback Steakhouse? I haven’t had their cheese fries in a long time.”
“Dad!” Stiles protested. “You can’t eat those!”
“Yes,” Stilinski said. “Yes, I can. You are going to sit and watch me eat an entire plate of those amazing, wonderful, marvelous creations. And you will not say one word about my cholesterol the entire time. Because if you do, we will repeat the exercise.”
“But Dad – ”
“No buts!” his father said. “If you willingly put poison in your body and worry the Christ out of everyone you know, I get to do the same.”
Stiles just stared at him, his mouth moving soundlessly. Derek made another chuffing noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
“Right, then,” Stilinski said, and gave Stiles’ a clap on the shoulder. “The doctor’s going to call me when they’re ready to discharge you so I can come pick you up. Until then, sit here and think about what you’ve done.”
“Aw, man,” Stiles whined, and then his father was gone.
So now he’s just sitting in bed, staring at the clock, waiting desperately for it to be five o’clock so the doctor who admitted him will come back on shift and he can get the hell out of the hospital. It’s a beautiful day outside. He feels much better. He needs to get gone.
It seems like an eternity before the man comes in, checks over all his vitals, asks him a million questions, suspiciously eyes his ‘emotional support dog’ (“he looks more like a wolf” “well, he’s a hybrid”) and then decides that Stiles is safe to discharge. Sheriff Stilinski comes back to sign some papers, and then he’s free.
“Are you still working?” he asks his father, as he’s wheeled out of the hospital.
“Just a few things left to wrap up,” Stilinski says. “I trust Derek and Scott to get you home safe and make sure that you don’t do anything strenuous.”
“Or anything at all,” Stiles mutters. “Okay. See you later, then.”
His father gives him another one of those rib-crushing hugs and then waves as he heads towards his cruiser. The nurse takes the wheelchair back. The rest of the pack is waiting in the parking lot, and they greet him with more hugs and cheek rubs and fist bumps.
“So, what’s going on this summer?” Erica asks, twining her fingers through Stiles’ as they walk through the parking lot, and it’s a complete moment of déjà vu. He blinks over at her, and she just grins at him. After a moment, he grins back.
“Got to enjoy these stormy days of youth,” he responds, and several of the others let out a snort of laughter.
“My goal for this summer is to seduce Lydia,” Erica says, and Stiles trips over thin air and nearly falls face-first onto the pavement. Derek grabs him by the back of the shirt and tugs him upright.
“Start by taking me shopping,” Lydia advises.
“How come you never try to seduce me?” Isaac asks, coming up on Erica’s right and taking her other hand.
Erica laughs at him. “Oh, well, I figured after what happened during my second full moon . . .”
“Hey!” Isaac flushes red all the way up to the tips of his ears. “You promised you would never mention that again!”
“Wait, is there a story here?” Scott asks. “I want to hear this story . . .”
“No! There is no story!” Isaac says.
Nobody believes him, but he’s saved when Allison’s phone beeps. She looks at the screen and groans. “My dad wants me home tonight.”
Stiles holds out a hand for the phone, and she yields it with good grace. He looks at the message, then begins to type back. ‘Mr. Argent, this is Stiles. I would appreciate it if Allison could stay at my place tonight, since it’s my first night out of the hospital. We’ll return her safe and sound tomorrow morning, if that’s okay with you.’ He hits send and waits, saying to the others, “Your dad’s going to be kind of famous now, isn’t he? Once word gets around that he took out the head of the alpha pack.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Allison says.
Her phone beeps again, and Stiles looks down at the screen. At first Chris just sends back, ‘ok’. Then, about ten seconds later, he receives another text. ‘My wife wants the recipe to that peach pie you made.’
Stiles grins at the phone and sends back, ‘No problem.’ Then he hands Allison’s phone back to her. “So, you know what we should do tomorrow?”
“What should we do tomorrow?” Derek asks, looping an arm around his waist.
“We should go ice skating,” Stiles says. “Go hang out with Boyd.”
“Good idea,” Erica says. “You’ll like him. I promise.”
Derek lets out a sigh. “Well,” he says, “at least this summer won’t be boring.”
~fin~