Chapter Text
When Stiles Stilinksi was sixteen, the first and only tattoo parlor in Beacon Hills, named Ink'd, opened up. It was owned and operated by the quiet Derek Hale, and his loud sister, Laura. They were a few years apart in age, but very close. They had lived in town several years before, until most of their family died in a terrible fire. Stiles saw Laura around town a lot, but he never really saw Derek until he and Scott McCall, his best friend, were seventeen and they went into the shop so that Scott could get his first tattoo.
He had his mother's permission, and Melissa stopped in on her way to work to let that be known before Derek started on the tattoo. Stiles silently looked around the shop at the different designs on display. He smiled slightly when he came across a photo that was taken at an odd angle but showed Laura smiling as Derek concentrated on working the tattoo she had on the side of her left hip. “Your friend doesn't say much, does he?” Derek questioned as he wiped away a little blood and excess ink with a clean cloth.
Scott shook his head a little, glancing over to where Stiles was distracting himself from what was going on with one of the stereotypical design books. “No, he's not... He's not said a word since his mother died when we were nine,” answered Scott. Derek nodded without taking his focus away from Scott for a moment. Scott winced a little, trying not to move his arm. “Whatcha lookin' at Stiles?” Scott asked his best friend when he noticed Stiles laughing softly.
Stiles then turned around the book he was flipping through to show Scott a drawing of some twisted and contorted snake-like creature, making Scott snort. “It's Jackson,” he stated, earning himself a firm nod from Stiles.
Derek's brow rose a little, but he added no comments until he asked Stiles, “You thinking about one?”
He pulled the tattoo gun away from Scott's arm as he looked over to Stiles, who gestured something quickly of his hands that made no sense to Derek, though the man was pretty sure it was basic American sign language. He just did not know any of it. “He said that his dad would kill him and he's not a huge fan of needles,” Scott translated, having had learned sign language with Stiles so that he could understand what his friend wanted to say without actually speaking.
“Oh.” Derek nodded before he returned to work.
A long while later, Scott was paying for the tattoo while listening to Derek go over the after care guidelines. “Touch-ups are free as long as it's not a major job,” Derek added with a nod as he walked over to the sink in the corner to wash his hands.
“Okay, cool, thanks,” replied Scott with a smile and a nod.
Both teens then left the shop, Stiles waving on his way out. Derek unwittingly found himself watching the quiet teen through the windows as Stiles rapidly signed to Scott. He was not sure what it was about the teen, but there was something there that intrigued him. Derek shoved all that aside, however. He had other things to worry about than teenagers.
It was several days later before Derek saw Stiles again. That time, the teen was sitting alone at one of the diners in town, poking at his chocolate milkshake before he wrote something down on a notebook that sat open on the table next to him. He then pointed it out to his waitress, who smiled before nodding as she walked off. Derek watched as Stiles sank down lower in his seat as a group of teens entered the diner, but they did not seem to notice him, which made Stiles appear to be relieved.
When Stiles tentatively sat up again, Derek made his way across the street from the bank, where he had been running an errand, and into the diner. When Stiles spotted him and smiled with a wave, Derek went over to sit in the booth, across the table from from him. “Hey, Stiles,” Derek stated as he crossed his arms on top of the table. “Where's Scott?”
Stiles pointed at the word “party” that was already written in the notebook. Derek guessed that the waitress had asked him that already. He nodded before shrugging out of his jacket to place on the seat next to him. “So, what's good here? I’ve never been. It opened after I left,” Derek said, smiling slightly at Stiles, who immediately picked up his pen and wrote in a blank area of the paper.
Everything. Especially the curly fries. Anita is getting me some now.
Derek chuckled a little and nodded. “I may just have to try some, then,” he said.
Stiles nodded a few times with a bright smile that slowly faded as one of the girls that had come in earlier walked over to the table. “Who's your friend, Stiles?” she asked, though she knew Stiles would not answer her, as she flashed a smile at Derek.
Stiles sank down a little lower in his seat, tapping the pen in his hand against the notebook, while attempting his best impression at being invisible. Derek sighed softly, scowling at the girl as he said, “I'm Derek; and, if you don't mind, I was having a conversation with my friend, Stiles.”
The girl arched a brow as she looked between them. “But, Stiles doesn't talk.”
“That does not mean he is unintelligent or is incapable of other forms of communication. Now, I do believe you are in the woman's way.” Derek finished speaking with a nod to the waitress who stood behind the teen, frowning at the girl.
The plate of curly fries in her hand led Derek to correctly assume the woman was Anita, whom Stiles had already mentioned. The woman smiled and cut off the teenage girl attempting to ask Derek to her table by setting the fries down as she said, “Here ya go, sugar. You give my best to your daddy, ya hear?”
Stiles sat up and popped one of the curly fries into his mouth with a nod. He narrowed his eyes a little when Derek did as he had said earlier by stealing one of the fries off of the plate. “Anything else I can get you boys?” questioned Anita as the teenage girl left with a huff at the fact that she was quite obviously being ignored.
“Sweet tea, please,” Derek requested as Stiles shook his head.
“Sure thing, honey.” Anita smiled before she left the table to finish her rounds of the diner and get Derek’s tea.
Derek smiled slightly at Stiles as he crossed his arms on top of the table again. “So, you're starting senior year in the fall, right?” Derek asked, pausing until Stiles nodded to continue. “Any ideas where you would like to go to college?”
Stiles wet his lips as he thought about it for a moment before he wrote down his answer. Once he had, he turned the notebook so that Derek could see what he had written.
No, not really. Mom wanted me to go into music or art, but... I dunno. Guess I’ll just see what happens.
Derek nodded a little, smiling as he said, “Don't rush yourself. You've plenty of time. I didn't know where I wanted to go until just before hand. Now, I’ve a degree in art. I...” Derek’s words trailed off as his eyes shifted so that he could look out the window and down the street a little. Stiles looked to try to see whatever had Derek’s attention, but he did not see anything. “I should go.”
The man nodded once, leaving enough money on the table to cover his tea and Stiles' order as well before he grabbed his leather jacket and left, leaving Stiles sitting there, very confused.
That evening, Stiles took the long way home, taking him along the winding road that skirted along the edge of town. Stiles was still a few miles away from home, just on the edge of the woods, when something big and black came barreling out of the tree line toward the side of his Jeep. When it hit, the car jerked and the water on the road from the earlier rain caused Stiles to lose control of the vehicle. It was only a matter of seconds before the Jeep ran head first into a tree.
Stiles guessed he blacked out for a little while because when he finally came to, it was darker outside than it had been when he wrecked. Climbing out of the Jeep with a groan, Stiles winced as his head hurt and he searched for his phone. He could not find it anywhere, however. It was not in pocket, where he swore he'd had it before. His eyes were barely adjusted to the dark when he heard growls and leaves rustling in the near distance. He froze in place, not exactly sure what to do. A moment later, Derek came running seemingly out of nowhere. His arm was bleeding, but he did not seem to notice as he shouted, “Stiles, run!”
The teen was torn between doing what Derek said, or going over to check on Derek. However, when the man insisted again that he run, he did. Stiles was not exactly sure where he was running to, he just ran until he found himself colliding with a rather firm body that made him stumble backward. Were it not for the hands on his arms to steady him, Stiles would have fallen backward. The teen recoiled just a little when he realized it was Laura Hale there with him, and he swore her eyes flashed red for a moment. He must have hit his head harder than he thought. “Where's my brother?” she questioned, and there was no mistaking the growl that rolled through her words.
Stiles tensed a little but gestured back over his shoulder in the direction that he had come from. It did not take her a moment longer before Laura was off running in that direction. Stiles stumbled a little at the sudden absence of hands on either arm practically holding him upright, and if it were not for him catching himself on a nearby tree, Stiles probably would have ended up face first in the dirt. The teen's head quickly snapped up when he heard the sound of a twig breaking nearby, and he slowly stood up straight, circling slightly as he walked to keep an eye out on the woods around him. When he was facing forward again, Stiles found himself face-to-face with a smile that was an oddly bright white in contrast to the grimy face it belonged on. That was the last thing he saw before his head felt like it exploded as the person punched him hard enough to render him unconscious.
The world almost felt like it was spinning when Stiles slowly came to, laying on a bed that was not his own. He felt very disoriented, but he could hear low voices somewhere near by. “What did he see, Derek?” one of them said, and Stiles was pretty sure that it was Laura Hale again.
“I'm not sure,” replied a voice that definitely belonged to Derek. “I don't know what he was doing out there or what he wants with him.” Stiles shifted a little and let out a faint groan at the way his head pounded when he moved, earning the attention of the Hale siblings in the room. “Hey, you're awake.” Derek spoke as he walked over to the bed. “How're you feeling?”
Stiles made a vague gesture with his hands, that did not mean anything to Derek or Laura, and the teen sighed softly before Derek reached over to grab a notebook for him to write in. Stiles wrote in a slightly more messy script than Derek had seen before.
Head hurts. Kinda sick to my stomach. What happened? My Jeep! My dad's the sheriff, he...
Stiles stilled his pen when Derek rested a hand in his wrist, reading what the teen was writing as he did. “Your dad knows you're here. He's out trying to figure out what exactly happened. Your Jeep's in for repairs.” Stiles looked confusedly around him, trying to figure out just where he was. It was obviously not the hospital. “You're at our apartment. Laura found you unconscious in the woods. We promised the sheriff we'd watch you and take you to the hospital if you needed it.”
The teen nodded a little, wincing as the action caused his head to pound and he rested back on the pillow underneath him again. “Headache?” questioned Laura off to the side, earning another slight nod from Stiles. “I'll go see if we have anything.”
After Laura walked out of the room, Stiles pointed back to his question about what had happened, and Derek frowned a little. “We're not sure. Someone obviously hit you, though. Did you see who it was?” Derek questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.
Stiles shook his head a little in answer, sitting up when Laura returned with water and some tylenol. The teen smiled slightly in thanks before he took the medication, somehow thinking that it was going to end up being a long night. Both of the Hale siblings avoided Stiles' questions for the rest of the night; and, eventually the teen went back to sleep around dawn, after they ruled out the possibility of Stiles having a serious concussion.