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That's horrible.

Right?! God. I can't believe this. Like, not only does my dad have no faith in my ability to take standardized tests, but I didn't even get real presents. So lame.

Have you tried returning them? You might be able to get store credit, at least.

It's an idea. But then I'm going to be lying to him about still having the books at least once a week. Which is a less awesome idea.

I'm still holding out hope for an extra fifty bucks of Christmas money. Or at least a new set of brake pads for the Jeep, because seriously, those things aren't cheap.

Parts are never cheap. Can you at least replace them yourself?

I can. You're looking at the guy who obsessively memorizes manuals, because you never know when you're going to break down in the middle of the woods with a werewolf after you. Haha.

[It's a joke, honest. Everyone knows werewolves aren't real, right?]

But yeah. I'd still rather have someone else do it.

[Blink. Haha, very funny.]

Well, if you get your hands on the parts, I can do it cheaper than a shop.

Just how terrible of a kid were you this year?

Good to know. Hey, I don't think we've met before. I'm Stiles. You live around here?

On a scale of one to Hitler, maybe a three? Come on. There has to be a bell curve for this kind of thing. Or a law against college prep books for Christmas. It's inhuman.

Jason. I'm just passing through.

It does seem needlessly harsh. Did you say anything to them? Your parents, or... whoever?

Derek stops just inside the window and gives Stiles A Look. "... okay." He evidently isn't sure why this is being shared with him, but after a moment's hesitation he comes the rest of the way in. And drops something, which turns out to be... one of the shirts he's borrowed in the last few weeks, freshly laundered and neatly folded, before turning and brushing a hand across the nape of Stiles neck without any apparent conscious thought. "And did you need them?"

Hey, cool. Just, uh, be careful around the preserve, okay? It can get dangerous out there. Bears and stuff. You know.

All I got from my dad was, 'when your best grade in chemistry climbs above a C-, then we'll talk.' Totally unfair, everyone knows Harris has it in for me. And there was that parent-teacher conference for English, something about writing a paper on the Hercules TV show instead of doing the mythology reading...but still!

Edited 2014-01-05 01:34 (UTC)

Stiles ignores the touch the way he always does, choosing instead to focus on Derek's (frankly accusatory and hurtful, in his opinion) words. Spinning in his computer chair, he fixes the older alpha with a wounded stare. "That is entirely beside the point. Textbooks, dude. For Christmas . There has to be a law against that." Surely someone must feel his pain.

I know how to handle myself. ...But thanks, anyways.

I'm not saying you don't. Just--my dad's the sheriff, and let me tell you, I've seen some pretty gruesome stuff out there. Don't want anyone else getting hurt, especially someone I've talked to.

Your dad's the sheriff? [And suddenly, all friendliness is gone.]

[Sadly, he's totally used to that response.]

Yeah, but that isn't the get-out-of-jail-free card you think it'd be. It means I'm five times as likely to get pulled over for going two over the speed limit, and it's ten times as hard to keep anything secret, even if it's for his own good. And it also doesn't make me a snitch, so youcan stop looking at me like that any time, okay?

That doesn't change that your dad's a fucking-- [And pause. Jason knows nothing good will come out of exploding at some guy he's just met.]

...Sorry.

Derek just gives him a studiously blank look in return, though he's not moving out of what constitutes Stiles' personal space. "An investment in your future." From a man who'd obviously love to keep his son off the streets and out of trouble, even if he has no idea exactly what kind of trouble it is he gets into.

All the incredulous looks in the world pale in comparison to the one Stiles shots his way. "Come on, seriously? One, I totally kick ass at standardized tests. Memorizing pointless facts and numbers is cake. For real. How do you think I passed anything with as little homework as I managed to get done last year? And two. Christmas! Christmas isn't a time for test books and study sessions! It's cookies and obnoxious songs and creepy mall Santa and two blissfully school-free weeks. I'm not taking the SATs til spring." He rolls his eyes, lacing fingers behind his head as he shrugs. Obviously Derek isn't getting it. Stiles isn't surprised at that. He's pretty much the king of No-Fun-Land. "Still got plenty of time."

[Whoa there, buddy. Stiles crosses his arms, eyes narrowing.] No, seriously. My dad's a fucking what? Cop? Yeah. And he does a hell of a lot for this town with little to no idea what's really going on, but sure. Go ahead and tell me just what you think of him based on your experience with other law enforcement. Because stereotypes are totally true and everyone's the same no matter what they say.

[ Okay... Pete can't help but crack out a laugh. ] So he thinks it was poetic justice, then?

Something like that. My just rewards. Uuuugh. All I know is, this is the worst Christmas ever. Textbooks from dad and my best friend still pining over the girl who dumped him six months ago. This after her mom and aunt literally tried to kill him. Crazycakes, I'm telling you. And I don't even know if Lydia is throwing her usual New Years Eve whatever, but that's just another chance for the universe to crack down on its favorite child, Stiles.

[He lifts a hand and waves.] Hi. Stiles.

[Well, Jason can't really back down now.] Your dad's not a murderer, then? Most cops are. It's what they do, isn't it?

A m--NO! No, he's not, and they aren't, and look, dude, I'm sorry if you've had some shitty luck with shitty cops, but the job isn't defined by a few guys who don't deserve to wear a badge. What they do, what my dad does, is keep people safe. And sometimes that means pulling over a guy who's had a few too many while watching the game, but other times? other times that means going out and almost dying, putting himself out there in front of shit that you can't even imagine. And every time, I have to wait for that phone call telling me that something horrible has happened and it's probably my fault and both my parents are dead, so don't ever tell me that. Don't ever.

[It's a lot of words. Stiles is a little surprised by them too, but it's always been a touchy subject. Even more, lately. Apparently this has been building for a while.]

[That is a lot of words, and despite Jason's incredible dislike of law enforcement, he's not going to keep taking it out on this stranger.]

...Maybe they're different around here. But where I come from, they're all shit. They're bullies that only care about themselves and what they can gain.

Well, that isn't here. [The words are quieter, but just as firm. Stiles believes very strongly in the worth of what his dad does, even if he worries. It's one reason why he feels so guilty about his extracurricular activities.]

Look, I'm sorry, but you don't know this town and you don't know me. Making assumptions like that? Not the best idea.

[Stiles' strong sense of conviction is the main reason Jason feels like he should back off.] Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry too.