fixing things (shouldn't be this complicated) [Teen Wolf]

Fifth Step, Or, Into the Woods [1]

As predicted, Mr. Hale was livid. He and Mrs. Hale set Derek a blistering lecture that lasted two hours, according to Laura. He'd been allowed to explain himself first, but Laura said that "that usually makes the lecture worse, as then Dad and Mom usually have a good idea of how to frame the lecture so you really feel bad."

"And did he?" Stiles asks, biting into the apple Deaton had forced on him.

"Oh, yeah." Laura crunches into her own apple, speaks with her mouth full. "Derek's always been the most sensitive to the lectures. Normally he's the goody-two-shoes of the family," she explains for Stiles's benefit. "He almost never gets in trouble. So he isn't on the other end of Dad and Mom's disappointment often.

"But this was something else." Laura leans in conspiratorially, compelling Stiles to do the same. "Not only did he get the two-hour lecture, which is, like, reserved only for the most serious violations, but he also got his basketball practices taken away and he's grounded until the next full moon. He's not allowed visits from his friends, he can't go anywhere but home after school, and he has to do his homework right away before he can watch TV or use the computer. Super harsh."

"What, does he have a favorite TV show or something?" Stiles tears off the last piece of apple with his teeth and chucks the core into a passing trash bin.

"Uh huh. The Office. Comes on right after he comes home from basketball practice."

"Ouch." Stiles rubs his hand through his hair. His dad had taken away his Xbox and his phone whenever he did something stupid (so. often), but at least he'd left Stiles the use of his laptop for homework. With his dad in the same room.

"Yeah." Laura's answer draws him out of his reverie. "I thought I got some bad punishments, but this takes the rabbit cake, skin, bones, and all."

"'The rabbit cake, skin, bones, and all'?" Stiles repeats incredulously, grinning.

Laura flushes. "Shut up," she says, shoving at Stiles. Her push is forceful enough to send Stiles three stumbling steps backwards, but she doesn't appear to notice, continuing, "Like you don't have any weird phrases in your family."

Stiles feels his grin freeze. "Nope, all our phrases were legit," he gets out, hoping his heartbeat or his scent, whatever, doesn't give him away. The tilt of Laura's head tells him she's noticed. Looking away from her curious gaze, Stiles notices that they're almost to the elementary school.

"Wow, this brings back some memories," Stiles remarks, eyeing the brightly-colored playground behind the tall chain-link fence.

"Yeah, I always get jealous of Juan whenever it's my turn to pick him up," Laura says absently, still studying him. "Too bad the jungle gym is so small, or I'd totally own it."

She looks so sad Stiles has to scoff. "Laura, you have the entirety of the Beacon Hills Preserve in your backyard. How can you be jealous of a kid's jungle gym?"

"But there are all these interesting obstacles!" Laura pouts. "There aren't any gymnastic bars in the Preserve."

Stiles goes to point out that you can climb trees, too, when his gaze snags on two of the kids on the slide. His eyes grow wide, his breath shortens, and his brain goes totally blank, void of even the usual what the fuck a situation like this would have gotten.

On the slide, ten-year-old Scott laughs as ten-year-old Stiles flails madly on his way down. Younger Stiles shoots out the end of the slide and rolls head over heels, landing in a heap on the woodchips. Shaking his ear-length hair wildly, Younger Stiles picks himself up, brushes the woodchips off his clothes, and then yells at Younger Scott to come down.