Blurred Lines

Stiles' Uncle [Teen Wolf/SPN]

#173 " I haven't slept in four days... "

Summary: The Beacon Hills gang needs help asap and Stiles decides it's finally time to call in the big guns.

Tags: Female Stiles Stilinski 

. .

. .

"Are you sure you know where you're going?" Derek asks, gripping the dashboard of Stiles' jeep as she speeds down a bumpy dirt road and into the heart of a woodsy area.

"Yes and no," she replies. "I tracked uncle Bobby's phone out here, but I'm not sure where out here he's at."

Derek scoffs. "Uncle Bobby. I can't believe we only found out you had a hunter for an uncle all this time."

"For good reason!" She exclaims. "Uncle Bobby hunts all sorts of supernaturals, but what he specializes in.. I didn't want to bring that around the pack. Beacon Hills is bad enough in attracting nearly every creature out there, so I rather not add demons to the list."

"..."

"..."

"Demons?"

"Yes, Derek. Demons. Uncle Bobby and the Winchesters are notorious for hunting demons, so excuse me for not bringing him up sooner. That and the fact that uncle Bobby has no idea I'm part of a pack."

Derek heaves a sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. When Gerard and his amateur hunters really started to be a thorn in their sides, Stiles had finally brought up the fact that she had an uncle within the Hunter community- an uncle who had connections to another hunting family that would have just as much sway as the Argent name.

At that time, the thought of having more hunters on their side seemed like a good idea. But now given the fact that her Uncle and his friends didn't know what Stiles got up to and just who her closest friends were.. well things seemed like they wouldn't bode well for the pack.

"Aha! Found him." The headlights flash across three individuals, each of them holding hunting rifles and scowling. Stiles quickly skids to a stop and parks her jeep, and Derek follows the spastic young woman as she carelessly hops on out and bounds towards the hunters. "Uncle Bobby!"

"Uncle Bobby?" Derek hears one of the hunters scoff. "What the hell?"

"Genim? What the hell you doing out here, 'ya idjit?! And how did you even find me?"

"I traced your phone," she says, striding up to the eldest man out of the three and quickly hugging him. "And no one calls me Genim anymore, uncle Bobby. It's Stiles. But that's besides the point. We need your help."

"We?"

Bobby's eyes dart to Derek and Stiles rolls her eyes. "Uncle Bobby, meet Derek. Derek, this is my uncle Bobby and.. friends."

"Sam Winchester," the tallest of the three answers. "And that's my brother Dean." He gestures to the third man who's taking in everything with a suspicious gaze and Derek mentally praises the hunter for not letting down his guard.

"Winchesters, huh? Good. We need your help too." Stiles says.

Bobby sighs, shouldering his rifle. "Jesus, kid. What kind of trouble you in?"

Stiles looks to Derek, but Derek merely shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. "He's your uncle. You tell him."

"I don't even know why I brought you along." She then gives her uncle her attention once more, completely missing the way Derek smirks at her. "Okay, so long story short, a fear demon or whatever riled up a bunch of amateur hunters and seasoned hunters in Beacon Hills. They're targeting supernatural creatures and those who sympathize with these creatures, and we need hunters of our own to fight back."

Dean huffs. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't that a good thing? We're hunters. It's our job to take out supernatural creatures."

Stiles bristles, but calms when Derek places a hand on her shoulder. "Those in Beacon Hills are innocent. They protect humans and other supernatural creatures alike. We protect those who cannot protect themselves."

"There goes that we again?" Bobby groans. Sam and Dean grip their weapons tighter as their gaze ping pongs between Stiles and Derek, but Stiles raises her hands at her sides to show them she means no harm. "Squishy human here," she rolls her eyes, scowling. "Don't shoot the messenger." All gazes then turn to Derek and Stiles chuckles nervously as she slides to plant herself in front of him. "He's.. a completely different story." Rifles raise higher in response, Derek's eyes flare blue in warning and Stiles raises her hands higher to obscure their aim. "Stop that! You've been in the presence of a werewolf on the night of a full moon for several minutes now and he didn't even try to rip your throat out. We are not the enemy!"

"Does your father know?" Bobby frowns. "I thought you got accepted into the FBI program. What are you doing with a werewolf?"

"Of course he does. One of dad's deputies is a hellhound and my two best friends are an alpha werewolf and a banshee." She tells him, slowly letting her guard fall again. "And I did get accepted into the FBI program, but things in Beacon Hills went to shit. When the alpha calls or doesn't, in this case," she scowls and Derek nudges her shoulder to get her back on track, "we come running. Beacon Hills is our territory and no one is going to take it from us."

"What the hell, kid." Dean sighs. "Do you know how dangerous this world is?"

"Of course I do. I've been in it since I was in the tenth grade." Bobby and the Winchesters look shocked to know that. "Now I haven't slept in four days, so I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop measuring your dicks right now." Bobby is the first to lower his weapon under Stiles' glare, followed by a reluctant Sam. Dean's aim doesn't waver and when Stiles glances over her shoulder, she swats at Derek's chest. "Put the teeth and claws away, Sourwolf. We need them on our side. Remember?"

Derek slowly lets his features fade and after a reprimand from Bobby, Dean lowers his rifle. "Now that we're on the same page, what do you need from us?" Bobby wonders.

"Your firepower and sway," Stiles tells them. "Gerard Argent is a psychopath and we know the Winchester name holds just as much weight as his does. We need to rally any and all troops that can work side-by-side with supernatural creatures. We're going to war."

Bobby looks to Sam first and the younger Winchester merely shrugs as if the decision weren't up to him. Then looking to Dean, Dean stares at Stiles and Derek with a calculating expression. After a few moments, however, he heaves a sigh and a shrug. "What the hell. We haven't seen any action in a couple days. Might as well go check this problem out."