Chasing The Sun Vol II: Citizen Soldier

Chapter 2: Of Laundry and Scolding's

Stiles stared at the closed door in wonder, "What the ever loving hell just happened?" he asked no one in particular.

Shaking his head, he walked to the closet. And his mother said, mornings were easy. Then again, she did advise him not to dwell on things that made no sense, on a good day.

Never mind a sleep deprived one. Staring at his wardrobe, Stiles pulled on a pair of Black Skinny Jeans, a Dark Red full sleeved Sweatshirt, a Black Cashmere Woolen Jacket. Slipped on his Dark Blue converse.

Moving to the mirror of his dresser, he gelled his hair in that artfully tousled way, Phoenix had painstakingly taught him, which made it look like he'd just rolled out of bed. Which bloody ironic that one. Walking to the still visible weapons drawer.

He slipped two daggers up each sleeve. Laced with three different kinds of venom, and protected against his skin by his real initials etched onto the blade, closer to both hilts. The magic masked the smell of the venom, so thankfully none of the wolves knew of the blades. He may not have claws, but he wasn't going to be helpless ever again.

Generally they all knew he had one shoulder holster and a belt, which held three pouches for two daggers and a sword. He's dad had given him a license to hold a gun. After the last few kidnapping moments, accidents and (or demonic disappearances). Though it sat in his drawer, Stiles rarely took it with him, mostly because the daggers were defense. The gun was basic offense. Stiles wasn't sure he could handle basic offense yet. Chris, his dad and Derek all seemed majorly shocked to realize he was a marksman. A crack shot. He hadn't missed a target's kill shot ever. As good as Ally had been with her bow, he was as good as her dad with a gun.

The comparison stung, seeing as Stiles was too fidgety to handle a bow. Dad had even commented on missing shots earlier, when he'd first held a gun. Sighing heavily, he closed the drawer and the cupboard covering the safe in which the drawer sat. Pulling his old clothes around to cover the cupboard, he then entered the code. His password being, P.A.S.S.S.W.W.O.R.D. Of course it wasn't the most original, but his had an extra 'S' and 'W'. When his dad had asked, Stiles had shrugged, "It's just a thing", he then smiled and walked away.

Leaving the closet, he stared at his room. As far as rooms went, it explained why Stiles' room as an attic was cramped. The Tower was huge. The door opened to show a huge King sized bed. Courtesy one Derek Hale.

'What?! I'm invested in your sleeping habits', he shrugged and proceeded to ignore him, except for the quirk of his lips, he remained stoic, as he set up the new bed. To the west side of the bedroom, a desk sat, with a computer chair behind it, facing the Bay Windows, but not at all close to it. On the opposite
side really.

The Bay Windows with a comfy window seat, for his six feet tall frame, nearly overflowing with six plush wolf toys (White for Erica. Brown for Boyd, a Blue eyed white one for Isaac, a grey wolf for Scott, a Green-Blue one for Jackson and a Black one with purple-ish eyes for Derek. Finding those had been an exercise in patience!!!), two fox (one golden fox for Kira, one red fox for Lydia because well she may look like a Barbie, and act like a banshee but she was crazy levels of smart), one black coyote, which really just looked like a dingo, for Malia. As a joke when Derek had seen them all, as he sat up the window seat. He'd brought a male Red Riding hood plushie. Cape and all. Stiles kept it closest to the black wolf. Derek had never given up on him. Most days, Derek would coax him into a state of being, where being quiet wouldn't earn him the words, 'You okay buddy?', 'Wanna talk about it?', or words to that effect.

They could sit against each other reading, or Stiles playing Angry Birds or Temple Run, whilst Derek went through the Finances, and Books. Never had there been a stranger sight, than Derek marking off of a column under Miscellaneous Expenses.