Stiles stares, wide-eyed, as he tries to process what the hell his life has come to. Logically, he knows. But Iron Man just kicked in his door and accused him, rightly so, of throwing a robot across the room with only his mind and his werewolf boyfriend is about three seconds from lunging across the bed and doing damage. What the actual fuck?
He grips Derek's arm tightly to ground him as he thinks. Bonus is Derek's growl isn't so loud it rattles the pictures on the wall.
"Wha-"
"Shh!" Stiles flails his free hand at Stark in a motion to zip it. He needs to think. When he got back from the lab, his only worry was reassuring Derek and his dad. He was already off-kilter and he purposefully let Friday monitor the lab in case he was triggered. Which meant what actually happened was recorded. Stark could easily review the footage and see that Barnes didn't kick anything.
"Shit," he huffs, falling back on the bed and pulling the covers over his face. "Shit shit shit!"
"Uh, can I talk now?" Stark asks.
Stiles kicks in that direction, not that he expects to hit anything. "I don't know, can you?" he asks in true smartass fashion.
"I'm ignoring you," Stark says.
With a huff, Stiles pulls the covers off his face. He wants to face his doom head on, even though Derek is the one holding Stark's attention.
"Why are your eyes red?!"
"Colored contacts," Stiles snaps. "Will you get the hell out of our bedroom?"
"Now," Derek growls. Stiles loosens his grip on Derek's arm only to hit him. He can't explain away a fucking growl.
Sure enough, Stark points at Derek and his eyes widen.
"I am not doing this right now," Stiles says loudly. "I want to sleep and deal with this shit after the sun has fucking risen. Go. Away." Stark stays right where he is and Stiles is about to get his growl on if the man doesn't move. "I will address this later. La-ter. Go away until the sun is fucking up in the sky."
Stark blinks and for once since he's known the man, he actually does as he's told. Before he does, he uses two fingers to make the I'm watching you gesture. Stiles rolls his eyes because he's finally killed Friday so no, the man will not be watching them.
He falls back against the bed again with a groan. Derek doesn't join him until their front door slams closed. "Why is this my life? The one time I purposefully go under surveillance is the one time shit happens and Stark sees it."
Now sitting on the bed properly, Derek frowns at their open bedroom door. "We knew it was going to be a possibility. You said it yourself when Peter was working on the contract."
"I know. I just thought that since I made it this far, it wasn't going to be a problem. There goes my ego."
Stiles' phone starts pinging. The first message is from Lydia. Her message is less asking what happened and more cursing him waking her up at such an ungodly hour. His Complication, it's handled, message probably does little to assuage her, but one issue at a time. As he responds to the second, from Malia, Scott walks in with wide eyes.
"Am I dreaming or did the thing we didn't want to happen just happen?"
Stiles scowls at Scott and tries to wiggle further under the covers. "It happened. I'll deal with it." He doesn't know how, but he will.
Scott holds up his hands in defeat. "Just checking. Are we dealing with it now or..."
"After sleep," Stiles says firmly, finishing up his messages and tossing his phone back on the nightstand. "I can't deal with this shit now." Scott shrugs and waves goodbye, shutting their bedroom door.
When Derek stays sitting up in bed when Stiles settles back, he flails. "What? I want to go back to sleep. If I try to deal with this shit now, I'm going to make things worse. Tell me I'm wrong." With a sigh, Derek joins Stiles fully in the bed. "That's what I thought. We're not under surveillance anymore, so we'll be fine."
His mantra of We'll be fine carries him through his morning as he gets ready. He already has texts from Steve, Natasha, and Barnes asking what this emergency 'super-important' meeting they're all invited to is about, since apparently, Stark let it spill that it had to do with Stiles. Stiles sends Scott, Kira, and his dad out for sight-seeing to get them out of the Tower. They are very aware of why they're being forced to sight-see for the day, but go along with Stiles' not at all subtle suggestion.
To stack the deck in his favor, he absolutely texts Darcy and asks if Thor is in the building. She says he is and that he's already mentioned this meeting and plans to be there. That makes him feel better.
When Stiles and Derek walk into the common area, Stiles rolls his eyes. It isn't a large gathering, which Stiles is both surprised by and thankful for. The whole scene reminds him of his first introduction in the Tower, except Fury isn't there to glower at them all and Thor is perched next to Dr. Banner with... a bowl of popcorn.
Fair enough. He's not sure if Thor's been hanging out with him or Darcy too much. Probably both.
Natasha doesn't look up from her phone from where she sits next to Clint, who looks like he's asleep with his eyes open again. Steve and Barnes are on the loveseat rounding out the conversation area, also looking unconcerned about the whole ordeal.
The only antsy room in the person is Stark. The rest look... bored.
"Great! The diabolical duo is here so we can get started. You may be wondering why I called you all here." No one answers him, but that doesn't deter Stark from steaming forward. Figuring this may take a while, Stiles nudges Derek toward the overstuffed armchair left open, taking the comfy cushion for himself since he knows the alpha wants to stay between Stiles and the 'threat'. "Friday?"
When nothing happens, Stiles snorts. His battle with surveillance is an open secret, but the fact that no one's surprised at the lack of answer from the AI is icing on the cake. Stark spins on his heel and glares at Stiles. "You can't dodge me forever."
"Fuckin' watch me," Stiles responds with a smirk. Derek flicks him on the arm, even though Stiles knows for a fact that Derek finds Stark's frustration just as amusing.
It's quiet for a few moments, the silence stretching on while everyone watches the tension grow between Stiles and Stark.
"They're not human!" Stark snaps, pointing in Stiles and Derek's direction.
The room is quiet again before Clint huffs. "Yeah? And?"
Stiles' eyebrows shoot up, because as far as he knew, only half the room knew about their supernatural status. Looking around, Steve and Barnes are just as shocked as he is.
"You knew?" Stark asks. The more he looks around the room, the more he realizes he is in the minority of one. "All of you knew?"
"I was raised in the circus. You would not believe the shit I've seen," Clint answered.
When Stark moves to Natasha, she shrugs without taking her eyes off her phone. "I'm Red Room. The supernatural is second-nature."
When Stark turns to Thor, he just waves him on. "I'm not even going to bother asking you. But my Science Bro?"
Dr. Banner rubs his eyes tiredly. "You'd be surprised who's willing to harbor the other guy in far off places."
With a huff, Stark turns to Steve and Barnes. "And you two? I guess the truth came out after bonding time?"
Stiles snorts again when he sees the innocent expression on Steve's face. He knows that expression now.
"We were the Howling Commandos, Tony. I think it's safe to say that besides Thor, we knew about the supernatural before you all were alive."
Barnes pulls the red-eyed wolf plushie from behind a loveseat cushion. Everyone begins to snicker, and even Derek smirks. To his credit, Stark connects the dots between the giant red-eyed wolf to the same red eyes he saw the night before and spins to glare at Derek. "That was you?"
Derek glares and doesn't hold back his growl. "You made me drink a bottle and a half of your shitty alcohol that I can't even get drunk off of while asking intrusive questions."
"And I'm a petty bitch," Stiles chimes in. "With a zero loss in every prank war I've ever competed in. And actually 100% human, FYI."
That tidbit gets Natasha to look up from her phone. "I pegged you as a sorcerer."
Stiles snorts. "No. All of the no. Not a witch, mage, sorcerer, anything magical that relies on ceremony and has any sort of restrictions." After a moment, he grins. "I'm a free spirit."
"Who won't stop messing around with my security system!"
He rolls his eyes hard at Stark's irritated, and repeated, statement. "Seriously? I was protecting my family. I'm not going to apologize that you couldn't snoop into our backgrounds and I'm not going to stop. You can just get used to that fact right now."
Just because their secret is out in the open doesn't mean that Stiles is going to give Friday, or anyone else for that matter, an all-access pass. There are still a lot of proverbial skeletons in the closet that he's going to protect.
Before Stark can get riled up again, Stiles sighs and holds up his hand. "Let me ask you this. Historically, what's the response of humans when presented with something that is different, that they don't understand, and is infinitely more powerful and therefore causes damage to the fragile human ego?"
Everyone in the room comes to the conclusion around the same time. While their first thought may not be werewolf hunter, annihilation is universal. "Exactly. I'm not blocking Friday because it's fun. I'm literally protecting my family and others I want safe. That being said, if you want to ask questions, I will answer what I can. If I can't, you know it's because the knowledge, in the wrong hands, could hurt someone."
Clint focuses on him, nodding to himself. "That's why you went postal on Fury."
Stiles tenses and crosses his arms. "He circumvented top-of-the-line encryption in an effort to emotionally blackmail me, poking holes in a security system that could be exploited. Before you say, he covered his tracks, he didn't. I asked a friend to see if he could break in after and there was a gap in the security that wasn't there before Fury or whoever he hired poked his nose in. The forums he printed off of? Were for trauma victims."
Derek rubs a hand on Stiles' back. "The top page printed and tossed on our dining room table was Stiles counseling a teenaged girl whose parents were murdered by supernatural hunters while she was at soccer practice. He helped her link up with supernatural foster parents so she wouldn't have to worry about being with humans. Her new location was on that page and those hunters could have been looking for a way to finish the job."
"I don't care that Fury was more interested in my response," Stiles grits out. "My life is protecting these people and I do a damn good job at it. Nothing is going to stop me." He lets out a deep sigh and sits back, trying to let the fight bleed out of him. "I've gone to enough funerals to last a lifetime. I don't want to go to any more."
The heavy silence sits in the room until Stark breaks it. "You say you're human but you sure put yourself on the other side of the proverbial line in the sand."
Stiles shrugs. "Yeah. But I also am very aware that not all monsters have glowing eyes and claws."
"Ain't that the truth," Clint huffs, settling back down against Natasha's side.
"Like I said, if you want to ask questions, I'll answer what I can," Stiles tells them. "And I'll only be a dick, like, 60% of the time."
"Oh, a whole 60%?" Steve asks dryly. "As opposed to what?"
Stiles blinks at him, not understanding the question. "My normal level is at least a 95. 90 on a good day."
"That explains so much," Stark mutters.
Stiles rolls his eyes but gestures to the room. Clint, surprisingly, is the first one to raise his hand. "Were you brought here because you knew about all this type of shit?"
He shrugs, because he doesn't know the answer but he sure as hell isn't going to ask for clarification. "Even though Fury trolled through the private forums, people still are very careful about what they put on there. For this reason. I honestly don't know but I'm not going to find out."
"Fair enough," Clint responds.
Before anyone else has a question, Stiles' phone rings and he pulls it out of his pocket. "Hold on, it's Scott."
"Ooh," Stark says, "what's he then?"
Stiles smirks. "I'd be more worried about Kira if I was you," he tells Stark, thinking about the conversation they had about Kira's job at Boeing. Steve and Barnes both snort, having witnessed Kira's favorite weapon that is on her at all times.
He isn't about to put the call on speaker, trying to keep a little bit of the mystery alive. "What's up?" he asks.
"Can we come back yet?" Scott asks. The question isn't quite a whine, but Scott wasn't happy about being kicked out after Stark burst into the apartment that morning.
After sharing a look with Derek, Stiles sighs. "I guess. I think we can finish up the Q and A by the time you get here."
"Yeah, about that..." Scott trails off. Now he sounds a bit nervous.
"What, did you just park yourself outside the building?"
"No, we actually left and walked around a bit," Scott replies. "It's just..."
In the background, Stiles hears his dad groan about Scott taking his time. Scuffling comes through the phone before his dad's voice takes over. "What Scott is trying to tell you is that we're coming back with a visitor."
Stiles frowns. "What? Who?"
There's more scuffling and Stiles shares a what the fuck expression with Derek again. This whole call is bizarre. The phone shuffles hands again and he hears his dad give his signature oh crap in the background.
"Me."
Stiles' body jerks in surprise. He stands up as his breath quickens, mind racing at all the ways this is going to go colossally wrong. "Fuck no."
He can practically hear Lydia smirk over the line. "I don't care."
"You cannot come here. I'm serious."
"I don't think you heard me the first time. I don't care." How did he forget how stubborn Lydia is? "Ever since you took this contract, you've been all over the place. First it was that time where you looked like hell when I Facetimed you, then the nightmare, then yesterday you pull enough power that I got dizzy, and now whatever the hell happened this morning? Three times, Stiles. Three times you flood the bond with panic and despair with no explanation. That's unacceptable. Waking me up at three in the morning was the last straw."
He runs his hand through his hair, making it stand up. When he looks at Derek for help, his alpha just shrugs. "She's right."
Stiles flips him off and starts pacing the room, ignoring all the looks he's getting. "How did you even find me?"
"It was easy. I knew you were in New York City. I could tell that Scott was close a few days ago through the bond. That and he's completely not subtle. Then, I call him earlier when I get here and hear your father in the background? So, I called John and asked."
He takes a few deep breaths and makes a mental note to lecture his father later. "Please. I am asking you to not show up."
"Too late," she replies flippantly. "We just walked in. I'll see you in a few."
She hangs up and Stiles legitimately whimpers. "My life is over."
"No, it's not," Derek says, rolling his eyes.
He spins around and glares at Derek with his hands on his hips. "Lydia is on her way up here right now. My life is over."
For the first time since this farce of an interrogation started, Bruce looks interested in the proceedings. "Your ex?"
While Steve and Barnes have heard a little about Lydia and others in the pack, Lydia has come up more frequently with Bruce when they're doing random science experiments. Stiles nods before walking over to the couch and burying himself next to Derek.
"Wait! I want to know what the hell everyone is! I called this meeting, damn it!"
"Remember me at my funeral," he tells them, ignoring Stark's temper tantrum. When the elevator doors ding, he hunches further down. "Protect me."
Derek does the opposite and stands up, the bastard. Stiles doesn't bother sitting up, letting gravity take him as he flops onto the cushions. He can still see what's happening and at least enjoys everyone's gobsmacked expressions.
Lydia is dressed to kill in an emerald wrap dress with a plunging neckline, her makeup and hair flawless as ever and heels giving her a ridiculous amount of extra height. Her handbag is tucked in her cocked elbow and she raises an eyebrow at the looks she gets, unworried at the scrutiny. Scott at least looks bashful behind her, aware that Stiles is probably going to leave this earth soon, but Kira and his dad just look amused.
Derek gets a hug first as alpha, and he scents her and gives her a kiss on the forehead. They haven't seen her in a while, and even though she's very independent and more than capable of taking care of herself, Derek is still a worry wart.
When she pulls back and faces Stiles, hands on her hips and expectant expression on her face, he tries to hold back a wince. "Hi?"
"Get up and face me like the adult you claim to be."
With a scowl, Stiles stands. Even though they haven't dated in years, and although they love each other like siblings, she still takes his breath away. He has no doubt that she planned her wardrobe meticulously, and it definitely had the effect she wanted.
"Hey, Lyds," he says, ready to get a hug or a slap. Either thing could happen. He's hoping she's feeling compassionate due to the shit week he's had.
She stops a step away from him and looks him over critically. "Well, at least you look better than the last time I saw you." Considering that was the day after his showdown with Steve, she's telling the truth.
Luckily, Lydia decides to go the hug route and pulls him in close. With her heels, she's just tall enough to wrap her arms around his shoulders and squeeze him tightly. He kisses her cheek and closes his eyes, inhaling the comforting smell of her perfume.
When he opens his eyes again, he glares at his dad over her shoulder. "Traitor."
Lydia pulls back and glares. "He answered my questions, which he's allowed to do as he isn't the one under a mountain of NDAs."
Stiles sticks out his tongue. "You're still a traitor."
Lydia rolls her eyes. "Manchild."
With a huff, Stiles pulls away. "Asshole," he insults in Polish. He's not about to do so in English.
In return, Lydia gives him an insincere smile and hurls her own insult back in Old Irish, only because he's learned her Latin ones. Just as he gets ready to dig his heels in and win this insulting war, Steve distracts everyone by choking and then falling into a coughing fit. When he's done, he laughs louder than Stiles has ever heard him laugh. The man can barely catch his breath and definitely can't speak.
Because he's too busy laughing, Barnes rolls his eyes and gives them insight. "He speaks Gaelic and Irish. Son of an Irish immigrant. Sarah was fluent and taught him."
Stiles' eyebrows go up as he turns back to Lydia. "What the hell did you call me?" She just pats his cheek and sits on the edge of the couch.
"Dr. Banner," Lydia begins, her voice losing the exasperated tone she used when talking to Stiles, "it's an absolute pleasure to meet you. I truly enjoyed your paper on the chemical properties of nucleic acids and proteins and their effect on heredity."
"Here we go," Stiles mutters, grabbing chairs from the bar area so that everyone can sit down. He can tell they're going to be here awhile. As he passes Bruce, he shakes his head. "I warned you, dude."
The man shrugs and sits forward. "Stiles mentioned you're working on another doctorate at MIT."
She looks pleased that Stiles mentioned her, but he knows her well enough to know she's secretly freaking out. "I am. Specifically, Bioengineering and Biological Chemistry. I wanted a challenge."
Clint blinks in surprise before turning to Stiles. "You are surrounded by insanely smart people. Do you know anyone who isn't a genius?"
With a smirk, Stiles opens his mouth to respond because he absolutely has a response to that, but he gets a glare from everyone in the pack. "Do not," Derek and Lydia both respond. His dad goes one step further by slapping him on the back of the head as he passes, helping Stiles to bring over chairs.
"Well, I learned my lesson the first time," Stark says, gesturing to Kira before addressing Lydia. "What's your first doctorate in?"
She crosses her leg over her knee, flashing the sharp point of her heel that is almost as sharp as her smile. Oh, Kira must have told her about the exchange. Bad. This was bad.
"Ergodic Theory with a research fellowship in Algebraic K-theory."
Stiles slumps onto the stool. "And she has a Fields Medal. Which was easy," he adds, using air quotes. "Hence the foray into more science for a challenge."
Scott takes the stool next to Stiles and bumps his shoulder. "You just want to win the bet."
Stiles flails and Scott has to dodge his arms. "If we were allowed to include my certifications, I would be."
"We all agreed that we would include anything that took at least a year to complete and it doesn't include any competitions or awards," Lydia says with raised brows. "You don't get to take back your vote just because you completed enough courses to get you ahead. You don't see Scott complaining that his certifications don't count."
"Oh my god," Scott groans. "Leave me out of it."
"You're in on this, too," Stiles hisses.
His dad jumps in before they devolve into a slap fight. He knows them well. "Can we not talk about the bets you all made while I was arresting you for underage drinking in public?"
Lydia spins to face John so quickly that her hair whips around. "Charges were never formally filed."
Stiles snorts. Funny, but true. The only reason they were caught in the first place is because an elderly couple saw them on the school playground and thought they were vandalizing the playground equipment. Nope, just drunk and daring each other to do stupid tricks on the jungle gym.
"I need details," Clint says.
"All of them," Stark chimes in.
Scott spares them, mostly because he knows that if Lydia or Stiles tell the story, it'll devolve into insulting each other in different languages again.
"Our senior year of high school, the three of us made a bet about who could add the most letters to our signatures when we were done with school. Lydia's winning."
Clint shakes his head. "You people are weird."
"You have no idea," Stiles says solemnly.