Teen Wolf One-shot stories

Matka taught me

Claudia Stilinski was Special Ops in Poland. She taught her son well.

———

It was a pretty unusual day in Beacon Hills. Made so by the fact it was peaceful, uneventful, and calm.
At first.

Since Derek and Coras' return the pack had at least stabilised under Scott's variable but decent enough leadership. He was too nice for anyone to bother trying to kill, and those tempted like Peter, were wise enough to know it wasn't going to work. Especially with Stiles around.
His spark wasn't strong, but he'd been formidable without it, and mountain ash was his bitch now. He was a very capable person, and would certainly take the position of left hand if the pack ever gained that level of structure under Scott.

Now though, the human was lounging back on a sun chair, watching the wolves train, and mocking them.
Derek had taken the brief period of peace as an opportunity to train his fellow betas and Scott in more disciplined combat. Allison was off to the side of them, talking Danny and Lydia through some basic self defence of their own. Stiles had not been invited to join them, and hadn't volunteered himself either. Which should have been suspicious.

Derek had paired the wolves up, himself facing Peter to avoid the all out brawl the man would cause if he was paired with anyone else.
He was just preparing to launch forward when a shout caught his attention.
"Move your right foot forward Jackass! You're gonna fall over in a weak breeze with that position!" Hollered Stiles from his chair, looking far too comfortable back seat coaching.

It was one of many catcalls the noisy teen had made over the last few hours, no doubt spouting stuff he'd heard on TV or gaming or some such. But Derek was about done with it, he had too much patience for Stiles as it was...for reasons. Jackson was clearly at the end of his tether and Derek wanted to keep training them for at least another three hours.
"Problems with my teaching Stiles?" He accused, letting the threat rest in his low voice.
Jackson smirked, and Stiles sat up from his provocative sprawl.
"Not really, obviously wolves probably need different methods to humans but-"
Derek cut him off, "considering how clumsy you are for even Allison to give you up as a lost cause, I don't think you have the right to criticise anyone's form."
Stiles flinched slightly, too distant for Derek to smell his emotions but something odd, sad almost, could be read in the twist of his mouth.
"Sorry." He said shortly.

Stiles rarely apologised.
It was strange, but not really wanting to press, Derek just nodded sharply and ordered the others to get back to work.

And hour later though, his hesitance and worry had returned to annoyance and anger.
Stiles didn't speak out again, but he didn't have too. Derek watched his grimaces and pained sighs from the corner of his eye, and the judgement from someone with so little right to do so made him fume.
It had taken a lot of courage to volunteer for this, and Derek knew he was still in need to improvements as a teacher, but from Stiles especially, the disappointment and frustration kinda hurt.

Anger may not be his anchor anymore, but it tended to be Derek's default expression of most complex feelings he experienced.
"What is your problem?" He hissed, ducking under one of Peter's left hooks to stride across the clearing to Stiles' perch.
Stiles had been watching Isaac and Boyd almost mournfully. He blinked as he refocused on Derek. "What?"
"If you're just going to sit there judging every little thing we do, perhaps you'd best come here and see for yourself how hard it is." He snarled.
Stiles opened his mouth, but hesitated.
"Unless you're too chicken Stilinski?" Growled Isaac, clearly as riled as Derek.
"What would your mother think?"
That question came from Jackson. Derek wasn't sure what he meant, all he knew is one moment, Stiles smelled a mix of anxious, worried and confused, and the next he was stone cold furious.

The younger man launched from his seat pushing past Derek, an impressive snarl of his own leaving his mouth, "fuck you Jackson, that's too far."
"Stiles!" Scott called, looking worried.
But Stiles ignored him, his furious chemosignals flooding the clearing as he marched toward Jackson, hands balled into fists.
Jackson leered, walking to meet him and clearly excited for a beat down.

Derek had a premonition of disaster and reached out a hand uselessly.
"Come at me coward." Hissed Jackson.
Stiles gave a yell of anger, and broke into a run. Then he leapt into the air, twisting to dodge the claw sent his way and landing his heel with his full weight behind it in Jackson's face. The wolf was propelled backward, and Stiles used him like a diving board to push himself over and upward, flipping to land on the ground in a crouch, his face contorting with so much anger his entire body trembled. Jackson slammed into the hard ground head first with enough force to make Derek wince. It was clear from the blood his nose was broken, it would definitely heal wrong too.

"You're lucky I'm unarmed you slimy piece of shit." Stiles hissed low as Jackson let out a groan, still on the ground.
"What the fuck." Whispered Erica.

Stiles wasn't paying any of them the slightest bit of attention as he rose to his feet to stand over Jackson and casually laid a foot over his windpipe, pressing until Jackson was rasping for breath. When Jackson raised a hand to try and pull Stiles' leg away, Stiles stomped on his hand hard enough six different bones snapped and Jackson let out a scream of pain.
"Just because you got claws between now and fifth grade, doesn't mean I don't outclass you, Jeleń." Stiles prodded Jackson's bared belly with his foot, pressing down a little to make a point.
"Chciałbym cię za to zabić...ale upokorzenie będzie musiało wystarczyć." He muttered, before leaning down to look Jackson in the eyes, features cold, "don't you forget again Jackass. Ya?"
"Yeah." Jackson whimpered, clutching his broken hand as his nose bled into the dirt.

Stiles pulled away, losing all the hard edges of a moment ago.
He chuckled awkwardly at all the gobsmacked faces.
"Sorry guys, lost my temper a bit."
"A bit." Echoed Derek.
Stiles looked embarrassed but unrepentant, still holding himself differently than the Stiles Derek was used to. "He brought up my Matka."

"You've had training." Mumbled Allison.
Stiles glanced over at her, before shrugging. "Matka was Polish Special Ops. She trained me well. I didn't practise much after she died, most people forget and I got rid of the trophies...but I got back into practise after your grandpa used me as a punching bag."
"Fair." Managed Allison.

Stiles turned to raise an eyebrow at Derek. "Still think I need to see how hard it is?"
Lydia was at Jackson's side helping reset his nose, though not looking particularly sympathetic of her boyfriend's state. Derek recalled she, Jackson, Scott and Stiles had all been in the same classes since diapers. Hence they'd all known.
Derek raised his hands, "not at all. Be nice if you joined in though? I feel you could teach me and Peter some things."
Something malicious and gleeful grew in Stiles' expression as he turned his gaze on Peter. "Oh, I think that would be my pleasure."
Peter's gulp was audible even to the humans in the clearing.

———

Chciałbym cię za to zabić...ale upokorzenie będzie musiało wystarczyć. - I'd like to kill you for that... but the humiliation will have to suffice.

Jeleń - Polish insult that directly translates as deer. But effectively means the same as calling someone a 'chicken' or 'rabbit' in english. Essentially prey, lesser on the food chain. Felt it was appropriate.