Forest for the Trees – 4 – Hazel

Reading Time:
18 Minutes

Chapter Four:

Stiles offered his father a wave as he left the station with Derek.  They’d agreed to take Roscoe to the store to both help the jeep smell more like Derek and to be seen out and about doing what Stiles called ‘coupley things.’  Derek was pretty sure Stiles had just forgotten to go to the store before meeting his dad for lunch.

But he dutifully got the grocery cart and followed Stiles around the store.  When they were almost done, Derek went ahead of him to grab a few drinks to leave at Stiles’ place.  He immediately regretted it because as soon as he turned down the soda aisle, Morrell appeared at the other end.

Her face lit up when she noticed him and he cursed silently, glancing back to see if Stiles had caught up yet.  “Derek!  Hi.”

He smiled stiffly, even more worried about offending the woman now that he knew she was not only a druid, but also related to Deaton, and something like allies or friends with his mother.

Her smile was wide and cheerful, her eyes just a little too sparkly.  “I haven’t seen you at the school lately.  I hope everything is going alright.”

“Things are fine.”  Damn it, where was Stiles?  “Just busy.”

Morrell looked him up and down, and he had to keep from shifting awkwardly on his feet.  He wasn’t sure if it would have been better or worse if he’d waited to change out of his uniform.  The sound of Stiles muttering to himself about the price of fresh herbs had a little of the tension seeping out of his shoulders.  Derek glanced back just as the man turned onto the aisle.

Stiles smiled at him, holding up the bags of vegetables as if in victory.  “Got ‘em.  Did you find your soda?”

Derek smiled back, sure it looked as relieved as it had when Stiles had interrupted her the night they met.  “Not just yet.”

Stiles leaned up against him as soon as he reached the cart, dropping his vegetables in on top of the loaf of ciabatta.  Derek dug out the bread and placed it on top of everything else with a small sigh.

Marin Morrell grimaced slightly, but her scent stayed the same.  As did her heartbeat.  Which meant the druid was using magic to hide since she couldn’t even keep her facial expressions neutral.  It was more than a little frustrating and even more suspicious in Derek’s opinion.  But he knew his mother did not agree as she had fought with Peter more than once about his problem with Deaton’s use of the same type of magic.

He debated internally if he should introduce them.  If they had run into anyone else he knew that Stiles had only met once, he would certainly do so.  Yet, he really didn’t want to.  Stiles took the decision out of his hands as the man turned slightly, still leaning against him as he looked at her.

“Hey.  Sorry.  It’s Mary, right?  From the bar?”

Her lip curled just a little on one side.  “Marin, actually.  I know Derek from the school.”

Stiles smiled and glanced at her little hand basket with its store brand bread and box of generic black tea.  “Really?  You should try the little strip mall by the school.  It’s got the best tea blends in the whole county.  And there’s a small bakery just next door that has fantastic hand made breads.  I even go there sometimes, though I usually just stop here on the way home if it’s late since this is so much closer.  I just hate driving so much further by this time of day.”

He looked back up at Derek then, his smile turning much more sincere.  “But that does remind me, I have to finish reading that essay draft so I can talk to Summer about it tomorrow.”

Derek blinked, trying briefly to remember if he’d talked about his cousin’s application essays with Stiles.  “Of course.  We can compare notes since I finished the second one last night.”

Morrell cleared her throat.  “That’s so nice of you to help your cousin with her applications, Derek.  I have some pamphlets and things about the process if you’d like.  They’re normally for parents but most kids just don’t have other relatives willing to help them out.”

Stiles jumped in again before Derek had a chance.  “Oh, I remember those from high school.  I still have mine somewhere at my dad’s,” he nudged Derek gently with his shoulder, “we should compare them, see if anything has changed much.”  Stiles pulled out his cell and typed something briefly.  “I’ll have Summer bring them to the BBQ.”

Stiles smiled too wide at Morrell.  “Thanks for the suggestion.  We’ll let you get back to your shopping since you’ve got a little further to drive home than we do.  It was nice seeing you, though.”

Derek swallowed a laugh at the way she glared at Stiles and then tried to look calm and welcoming when she looked back at him.

Stiles cut her off yet again, giving Derek his full attention.  “Is soda the last thing?”

He really wished he could agree and just get out of there, but he’d been looking forward to the meal and Stiles didn’t have any ground beef at his place.  “I think we still need the meat.”

Stiles pointed at him with an ‘aha’ then moved past Morrell with a nod of acknowledgement and was back with a sixpack within seconds.  He waved at her cheerfully as he steered their cart back the other way.  Derek followed along, though he did step in and make the selection when they got to the meat counter.  Unlike some shifters, he was very picky about his proteins.  He chose to blame it on Peter’s influence like he did anything else that could be seen as snobby.

They didn’t see Morrell again before they left the store, but Stiles clearly hadn’t forgotten the encounter since he brought it up as they were pulling out of the parking lot.  “Do you run into her a lot of places?”

“Once a week or so, usually.  But I think she’s a little annoyed that I haven’t been coming inside to get Summer the last few days.  She was at the diner when I picked up my order Sunday and at the café yesterday when I got coffee before work.”  Derek clenched his fists briefly, then forced himself to relax.  He’d been trying not to think about the run in’s all week, but the passive aggressive texts he was getting each day from his mother and the stress of the upcoming BBQ wasn’t helping.

Stiles hummed and frowned quietly out the windshield the rest of the drive.  He kept his questions to himself until they got to Stiles’ apartment above his new shop and brought in the groceries.  “Are you really reading over Summer’s essays for her?”

Stiles laughed, his pensive mood lifting as he regaled Derek with how Summer had gotten his business email off the new shop’s website and sent him the files with the insistence that if he was going to attach himself to her cousin, that meant he needed to earn his keep and she’d figured he was good at essays and such since he’d gotten into such a prestigious school.

“She’s a complete shit-stirrer and I love it.”

Derek shook his head with a sigh but didn’t fight the smile as he laid out the ingredients for the meal.  The fresh noodles went in the fridge, but everything for the sauce was spread out on the counter in specific groups.  “Yeah she is.  Don’t tell April, but she’s my favorite.”

Stiles laughed and started prepping the ridiculous number of veggies he’d bought for the green salad.  Derek focused on the important part of the meal, getting the onion sautéing so he could add the ground beef and garlic.  Stiles nudged his arm lightly as he passed him to grab the salad spinner off the top of the fridge.  He placed his hand lightly on Stiles’ back to keep him from backing up as he reached for the appropriate seasoning for the meat.

They spent the next few minutes working around each other in the small kitchen as Derek quizzed Stiles on the mini bios he’d sent the other man about the pack members they’d be interacting with the next day.  Before long, the salad and salad dressing was made and in the fridge, and the tomato sauce was seasoned and simmering on the back of the stove, ready for the meat.

“Are you sure that doesn’t need more red wine?” Stiles asked from just over his shoulder as he eyed the spaghetti sauce.

Derek elbowed him lightly in the side and shooed him away from the stove.  “Yes.”  He placed the lid on the pot and lowered the heat.  “I made this recipe for myself almost once a week when I was at school.”

Stiles raised both hands in sarcastic surrender and made his way over to the couch.  Derek joined him a moment later and they resumed their speculation about how the BBQ was going to go.  When it was time to put together the garlic bread, Stiles left him to it and actually typed up a few comments of his own on Summer’s essay.

He must have already reviewed most of it, because he was putting away the computer only a few minutes later and joining Derek back in the kitchen.  Somehow, it didn’t feel anywhere near as irritating as it normally did to have someone watching him cook.  Maybe that was because the only person to do so lately was his uncle, and Peter was irritating more often than not, no matter what they were doing.

The atmosphere stayed light and comfortable all the way through the meal.  He even asked for the recipe for the thyme and tarragon vinaigrette Stiles had made.  Not one to put off a task, Stiles quickly texted him the information and then fiddled with the last few bites of his food.

Did he need to say something?  Ask if anything was wrong?  Did Stiles regret agreeing to go to the BBQ?  For the first time that evening, Derek found himself feeling a bit awkward.  It was strange because it made him realize that he hadn’t felt that way once since they’d left the grocery store and that wasn’t his normal by any means.  Especially when it came to one-on-one interactions with people he didn’t know that well.  Or certain members of the pack.  Or his mother.  Or older sister.

Before he had a chance to spiral on that thought, Stiles cleared his throat.  “Since everyone thinks we’ve been together a while, and all…” he trailed off, then finished his last swallow of wine.  “Just in case, something that you would absolutely know if we’d been together so long…”

Stiles didn’t meet his gaze, instead stared at his empty glass.  “My mom died when I was eight.  Frontotemporal Dementia.  It progressed rapidly and she’d died within a year of her official diagnosis.”

Derek reached across the small table, stilling the restless movement of Stiles’ hand.  “You don’t have to talk about this.  It’s not really a topic of conversation that’s likely to come up at a family get together.”

Stiles let out a short, sharp laugh.  “Really, you can’t see your mother bringing up a topic I’d find uncomfortable in the guise of getting to know your boyfriend?”

Derek closed his eyes briefly, because he absolutely could.

“She was homeschooling me at the time and we were alone a lot before my dad realized how bad her hallucinations were.  My magic tutor at the time stepped in, but there was an ER visit and I had a rather bad magical outburst that I know Deaton knows about because I overheard my dad not very politely telling the shifty dude to leave like the day after it happened.”  Stiles took a ragged breath, his scent turning sour and sharp.

Derek tightened his grip on the hand in his, just holding it silently for a few seconds.  Stiles turned his hand over and laced their fingers with more strength that he would have expected.

“I wasn’t actually admitted or anything but I spent a few hours at the ER for observation and tests and stuff.”  Another shaky inhale.  “I inhaled a bit of water and my magic was seriously reactive for a bit.”

The automatic thought that struck him, especially as a deputy that had responded to more than one domestic incident cringed silently.  Moon above, he hated it.

“I ended up with what they call magical upheaval.”  Stiles swallowed audibly.  “I got another stronger magical tutor after that, and saw a druidic psychologist for almost two years.  Both of which Deaton knew about.  The fucker stared at me super creepy-like the few times I saw him for years afterwards.”

“And he would have certainly talked about such a thing with my mother.”

“Right.”  Stiles didn’t let go of Derek’s hand even as he poured a little more wine in his glass and started sipping it immediately.  “So, you should know about it.”

Derek waited for Stiles to put down the wine glass, then held that hand as well across the table.  He squeezed both hands and leaned forward a little.  He wanted to say something, apologize or thank him for telling such an awful story just to ensure he wasn’t caught off guard if it came up.  But he remembered how it felt for people to say they were sorry after Paige was killed.  So he sat in silence, holding Stiles’ hands until his scent evened out and lost its sour edge.

“Do you want to pick out a movie while I load the dishwasher?”

Most of the remaining tension drained out of the man as he exhaled.  “You did most of the cooking, you’re not doing the clean-up.”

“We did most of it already, it’s just the plates and stuff at this point.  And besides, I don’t know what movies you’ve got so it’d be hard for me to pick one.”

Stiles glared half-heartedly.  “Right, you totally couldn’t look through the entire bookshelf of DVDs or anything.”

Derek smiled as if in agreement.  “Nope.  Not at all.  So you do that and I’ll join you at the couch in a few minutes.”  He gave one last squeeze before releasing Stiles’ hand and gathering up the plates.  Stiles huffed and stood, stomping melodramatically over to the shelves.

It was a pleasant surprise to find an old Dick Tracey film que up when he joined him on the sofa.  It was even more pleasant and just as much of a surprise when Stiles plastered himself to Derek’s side and Derek felt his shoulders finally relax.

This fake boyfriend thing wasn’t anywhere near as bad as he thought it would be.

Derek revised his assessment the next day as he ran a hand over his face when Stiles turned onto the side road that led to the long driveway up to the house. “Can I apologize in advance for any insulting or invasive statement or question at least three members of my family are sure to make?”

Stiles laughed a little and reached over to briefly pat his leg.  “Don’t worry so much, I’m sure we’ll both make it out at least mostly unscathed.”

Derek took a deep breath.  “You’re not as reassuring as you think you are.”

Stiles just laughed again and rumbled down the unpaved drive.  When they’d parked, he reached across again and placed his hand on Derek’s leg.  This time he put more pressure and squeezed for a moment.  “It’ll be fine,” he said softly, like he was trying to keep the comment private.  But he knew that at least his mother would have been able to hear from where she was surely waiting to pounce the moment they made it to the yard.

A lump formed in his throat, but he nodded as confidently as he could and got out of the car.  He waited a moment for Stiles to get the pastry box from the back seat.  He knew the man had actually made it himself but when he’d asked what it was, Stiles had smiled and just said it would be appropriate to the occasion.  Since they were celebrating the Flower Moon, he really hoped it wasn’t lavender shortbread or something like that.

Talia descended the moment they rounded the house, giving Stiles the rather condescending smile Derek was more than familiar with.  “You must be Stiles, it’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Alpha Hale,” Stiles smiled and gave a deferential nod without actually exposing his throat.  “Thank you so much for having me, I really appreciate the warm welcome considering our situation.”  Stiles winced, looking and smelling a little embarrassed.  “I may have put off telling my father that I was dating his favorite deputy a bit longer than I should have.”

He cleared his throat, his voice growing quieter.  “My dad has always been a little too overprotective, and I couldn’t stand the thought of him making it difficult or uncomfortable at the station if things weren’t going to last long term.”  Stiles looked away from the woman for a moment, staring back the way they had come.  “I think I could have taken advantage of Derek’s hesitance to risk disappointing someone who’s opinion means so much to him.”

Derek was kind of in awe of the performance and couldn’t help but step closer to him.  He would have reached for his hand if the man wasn’t still holding the pastry box in front of him like a shield.  He watched Stiles visibly square his shoulders and look back at the woman even as his heartbeat began to speed up a little.  “I apologize, Alpha Hale, for letting things get so out of hand.”

Seeing his mother’s inherent disapproval of anyone who wasn’t Laura actually thaw a little around the edges was kind of unbelievable.  He couldn’t wait to tell Eric.  Movement out of the corner of his eye had him glancing over and seeing Peter watching, looking almost a little impressed.  Derek moved a little closer to Stiles, his hand resting on his lower back.

Stiles leaned back into the touch, and he took advantage of the calmer atmosphere to make the formal introductions between his supposed significant other and his alpha.  Once done, there was another beat of silence in which both his and Stiles’ heartbeats started to pick up again until his mother finally gave a nod and a somewhat stiff welcome.

Derek nodded back and led Stiles off to the food table to deposit their dessert.  His Aunt Dahlia appeared at their side a moment later, helping move a couple things around to accommodate the pastry box.  When The lid was removed, he leaned in just like she did to take in the sight.

“Oh, what are these?” she asked.

“Cashew baklava with candied dianthus,” Stiles answered proudly.  “It’s a family recipe.  We always had it for either Ostra or Beltane depending on when we could get the flowers, but I figured it would still be fitting.”

The red flower petals were arranged carefully, three on each little triangle of pastry.  Derek could smell the cinnamon already and he couldn’t wait to try them.  For all that it was a backyard BBQ, however, Talia and Laura ran it like a formal dinner party and he wasn’t willing to risk pissing off either of them at the moment so he refrained from eating dessert first.

To avoid the temptation, he led Stiles around to meet a few of the pack members he was closer to.  While they talked with Dahlia and her husband Trent, he watched for his mother or older sister out of the corner of his eye.  As well as things had gone on that front so far, his wolf was leery to have them at his back.  Or Stiles’.

Summer had waylaid them for several minutes to discuss their comments on her essays, allowing him to unobtrusively watch his mother exchanging unreadable looks with her emissary.  The way Deaton’s gaze seemed to follow Stiles for almost an hour afterwards had Derek fighting the urge to keep himself between the two of them at all times.

He was trying to figure out what to put on plates for himself and Stiles when a familiar elbow jabbed him lightly in the side.  He turned to April with a smile, chuckling when she rolled her eyes at the table.  No one could say that Laura didn’t go all in on a theme.  There were edible flowers in or on everything, from the salad to the cheese spread to the finger sandwiches.

“Don’t hog the stuffed zucchini blossoms,” she said with another jab.

Derek laughed a little and quickly finished getting them a selection of foods.  He was glad that moonrise was so early this time, because if this had been dinner instead of lunch not even the rose and almond chicken or the lavender beef would keep a pack of wolves from rioting.

When he was done, he found Stiles already talking with Holly, so he and April joined them.  “I see you’ve met,” he said as he approached his best friend.  Holly and Stiles both smiled, the latter making grabby hands towards his plate.

Stiles took a large bite of his salmon and marigold sandwich, nodding.  “There have been college stories.”

Derek huffed and tried the chicken.  He had met Holly when she started at Sac State the year behind him.  They’d shared enough cases in the criminal justice track that they’d quickly become friends.  So much so that he’d introduced her to his cousin when April joined them at the school the next year.  “Then you should meet her wife, April.  She works at dispatch.”

“Nice to meet you, April.”  Stiles smiled at her and then at Derek as he scowled at his remaining chicken.  The man pointed at the rosemary blossom focaccia and pansy cheese spread Derek hadn’t tried yet.  “I heard a few people say that one is good.”

The four of them blundered their way through the overly floral concoctions as they chatted.  Stiles laughed more than the rest of them combined, but Derek took it as a win since most of the conversation was taken up by the women teasing him for how adorable they were together.

Thankfully he finished eating fairly quickly so he was among the first to make it to the dessert table so he could ensure they all got pieces of Stiles’ baklava.  While April and Holly wasted time telling Stiles how good it looked, Derek dug in.  He moaned just a little at the taste.  Stiles bumped their shoulders with a smile, blushed and ate his own piece in silence.

When they were done, the couples went back to mingling with the rest of the pack, and Stiles met his great aunt Edith and April’s brother Leo.  Derek reintroduced him to Cora, who had been a freshman at the high school when Stiles had been a junior.  They said hello to his uncle Porter and told Laura how lovely the party was with its bouquets of flowers on every surface

He and Peter kept their interaction to a minimum as they usually did at larger pack gatherings, but he was still relieved that Stiles seemed to take the older wolf’s near smarmy attitude in stride.  He was even more relieved when they lasted the rest of the afternoon without having to talk to Deaton.

By the time the moon was rising at about 2:15 and his mother was giving the speech about the significance of the Flower Moon and how this year it was a blue moon and the pack was blessed by the blah blah blah, He and Stiles had made the rounds and were standing a little ways off to the side.  He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist from behind, the man’s head resting back against his shoulder as they both looked up at the full moon in the still blue sky.

“Thank you for coming,” he whispered against Stiles’ temple.  Stiles placed both hands over Derek’s where they wrapped around him.

“Of course.”  He turned his head slightly and looked at him, his eyes a little crossed at how close their faces were.  “You don’t even have to say.”

Derek took a deep breath and inhaled Stiles’ scent, warm and happier than he would have expected given their surroundings.  He couldn’t help but nuzzle into his neck, savoring the spike of spicy arousal that followed.

Stiles took a breath of his own, his heart racing for a few moments before he calmed and his scent went mellow again.  “Asshole.”

Derek laughed a little and held on tighter.