chapter 28

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The sun was setting as Stiles did his homework on the back porch of Peter and Derek's home, like he had for the past week as Scott ran drills. It wasn't exactly fair, but Stiles was the only human in the bunch, and he knew he didn't really want the alternative either.

Besides, homework wasn't that bad.

He slowly ate the sandwich Derek had gifted him as he answered questions and filled in worksheet after worksheet for the both of them. Most of it was easy, and anything he hadn't known so far, Peter had been kind enough to fill in the blanks when he needed it.

After a full week, a nice routine was forming. Well, it was nice for Stiles. Scott's not-so-subtle huff from across the yard told him that he would trade with Stiles in a heartbeat.

"How many more times do I have to do this?" Scott whined. "You said ten runs was trained."

Stiles pulled his attention away from his own tedious assignment in time to see Derek with his hands on his hips as he shook his head. "I said do ten and we'd talk about it," he reminded Scott. "And you did ten, but I decided it wasn't good enough. What do you say we aim for a hundred?"

Stiles smirked and ducked his head, noticing Peter was doing the same thing out of the corner of his eye as Derek used his stern coach voice. Stiles was so used to being on the receiving end of it, he was itching to stand up and run a lap. A conditioned response, clearly.

"Are you serious?" Scott growled.

Peter jogged down the few steps that led out into the yard and Stiles no longer tried to hide that he was paying attention. He was allowed to be in the know here, so he reasoned he might as well take it. Scott would want to rehash the entire session later anyway.

Derek's eyes widened and he advanced toward Scott about the time that Peter made it to the pair, putting a hand on Derek's shoulder to stop him.

"I know it seems excessive, Scott, but the key to learning control is repetition," Peter offered. "You can't be too confident when you're in the thick of things. You have to assume that you'll lose all that carefully constructed control at any time. That way you'll always be prepared. Okay?"

"I am in control, Peter," Scott groaned, throwing his hands up in the air. "How do you even know this is the best way to train me? It's not like you guys have a real pack."

Stiles bit the inside of his cheek to keep from visibly wincing on the off chance that anyone was going to look his way soon. Scott knew better than that, and yet he kept insisting on bringing up things that it was obvious both Derek and Peter would rather forget.

Stiles knew his friend was beyond aggravated at the way things had turned out, especially since he couldn't live in his blissful ignorance bubble anymore, but goading two grown-up werewolves really didn't seem like a smart move. Something that he had told Scott more than once lately. Clearly it wasn't making much of an impact.

As much as Stiles hated the idea for Scott, he was starting to think him getting his ass handed to him by one or both of them might help it sink in. Nothing else was working.

"Enough," Derek bellowed. "We were all trained this way in our family, so we know it works." He took a deep breath and put his hands on his hips, steadying himself. "Listen, Peter and I trained together," he started again, his voice more even and much lower. "We helped train my little sister Cora too. It works. I promise. You just have to trust me. Trust us."

Peter's jaw flexed enough that Stiles could see it all the way from the porch now. Whatever he was going to say was clearly caught in his throat, and he didn't seem capable of forming words anymore. Not nice ones, anyway.

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