After the bout of energetic sex and another few mouthfuls of Derek’s amazing blood, they decided it was time to tell Stiles’ dad.
Stiles was not looking forward to it. At all.
But at least he wasn’t the evil undead! Just, you know, undead.
They went up to his house and he used his key to open the door and, yup, he couldn’t get in without an invitation.
“Daaad,” he whined, “you need to invite me into the house because I can’t come in.”
His dad exited from the kitchen and squinted suspiciously, “Why?”
“Because I’m a vampire!” Stiles said.
His dad turned to Derek, “Is he being serious?”
Derek nodded.
“If you’re with him, I’m guessing vampires aren’t evil? Whatever, come in, kid. You know you’re always welcome,” his dad said.
“Oh my, god! You’re just as bad as Derek. You can’t just invite the evil undead into your house, dad! Derek told me that vampires are evil and usually kill their friends and family first. And–” Stiles had been prepared to continue his rant until he caught the faint whiff of bacon on his dad, “–You ate bacon! I can smell it! So not only are you recklessly inviting the evil undead into your house, you’re clogging your arteries? And you still have the gall to accuse me of not having a sense of self-preservation?”
His dad pointed at him, “You’re the evil undead? Really,” he looked super dubious.
“I could be. You don’t know,” Stiles said with a pout.
“He’s the worst vampire I’ve ever met,” Derek helpfully added.
“Doesn’t not being evil make me the best vampire?” Stiles countered.
“No,” his dad and Derek said together.
“Rude! Dad, you don’t even know if I’m the worst vampire,” Stiles cried.
“Perhaps not, but I trust Derek’s judgement. Why is he the worst vampire?” his dad asked Derek.
“Crosses and the sun don’t burn him and he can see himself in a mirror. It breaks all the rules of vampire lore. That and his general lack of bloodlust,” Derek blandly said.
His dad looked nonplussed, “I see. Well, I guess I can’t be too surprised. Following the rules isn’t Stiles’ strong point.”
“Hey! I follow rules,” both his dad and Derek looked incredulous, “Mostly. Sometimes. Okay, fine. Any rule I follow is likely incidental and because I’m not paying attention. You don’t have to be jerks about it. And, wait! Stop distracting me! You ate bacon, father mine, and shall have to be punished.”
His dad rubbed his face, “I take it back, you are the evil undead.”
Since telling his dad went so well, they decided the pack was next. Because Stiles was Stiles, he insisted that they needed to stop and get him a cape. He also wanted a coffin so he could dramatically rise from it, but Derek put his foot down.
“I refuse to have a coffin in my loft. It’s creepy,” he insisted.
Stiles was incredulous, “You lived in an abandoned warehouse! You literally crept into teenage boys’ rooms. You lurk in dark corners! You have no right to judge anyone ever for being creepy.”
Derek fell back on an old survival skill and ignored Stiles.
Neither would admit to pouting.
(They both were—if the cooing of the store clerks was anything to go by.)
There was a little time to kill and while Derek would’ve preferred using that time for more sex, Stiles wanted to practice his dramatic entrance.
He’d only be able to reveal his dark, undead nature once and he was going to do it right, damn his soul!
While not as fun as having sex, it was pretty entertaining to watch Stiles try various dramatic entrances. Derek thinks he laughed more in those hours than the past five years combined. One of the best things about Stiles being a vampire is that while it gave him some increased agility, it was still Stiles.
And Stiles was clumsy. Especially if he wasn’t trying to be stealthy. There was a great deal of flailing and falling over and it was ridiculous.
Stiles eventually got tired of Derek’s laughter and used his supernatural agility and speed to capture his prey.
Which led to the sex Derek had wanted.
Once the pack was gathered—Peter included because Stiles particularly wanted him there for this reveal—Derek began speaking, “I regret to inform you that Stiles has been killed–”
Scott burst into tears while everyone else looked mildly confused.
You see… Stiles had written a script, not wanting to leave anything to chance. Derek had protested but ended up giving in—as he often did with Stiles.
The problem? Derek wasn’t an actor and wasn’t even trying. He’d read his line in the driest, most deadpan tone. Bland and monosyllabic. His heartbeat was normal and his scent fine[1].
Scott was crying because—well, it was only fitting that the worst vampire’s best friend was the worst werewolf—he listened to Derek’s words and only his words.
After a too-lengthy pause to give everyone time to digest Derek’s words and form an appropriate emotional response, Derek continued, “–by a vampire. A nasty Drusilla wannabe turned him and now he’s an evil, soulless vampire. If you see him, stake him immediately.”
Which was Stiles’ cue to drop from the loft’s second floor. Only he tripped on his cape and belly flopped[2].
Derek just groaned and put his face in his hands.
Everyone else burst into laughter—until the werewolves realized that they couldn’t hear his heart and Stiles wasn’t moving. Scott burst into tears again.
Stiles popped up, “I’m okay, Scott! I’m okay! Man, stop crying! You know how it kills me when you do. If you cry, then I cry,” Only… Stiles was crying tears of blood. Because he was a vampire, “I’m not dead! Well, okay, I am dead but I’m undead which is basically the same as being alive.”
“No, it’s not!” Erica called out.
“Hey, at least I’m not a zombie unlike someone,” Stiles protested.
Isaac coughed into his hand, “Peter.”
“Oh, sweetheart, you look divine. I’d happily live out my unlife with you,” Peter purred.
Even Derek was too creeped out to growl.
“Ew! Why did I insist you come?” Stiles asked the room at large.
“You obviously wanted me to know we could finally be evil and undead together,” Peter crooned.
Scott only cried harder, “I can’t have an evil best friend! I’m the True Alpha!”
“Oh my, god! I’m not evil, Scott. Look, I’m holding a cross. That means I’m not evil,” Stiles said with exasperation.
“Fascinating,” Lydia said, “Does this mean most of the vampire myths are false? What about sunlight? Garlic?”
“Not garlic but the rest is true,” Derek said, “Stiles just insisted on being a special snowflake vampire.”
“Rude! Can I help being a rebel? No! I was born to be bad!” Stiles punctuated his statement with a dramatic flourish of his cape.
“I thought he said he wasn’t evil,” Isaac whispered.
“He means he was born to be a bad vampire,” Boyd explained quietly.
“I heard that! You’re all the worst,” Stiles pouted.
“Says the worst vampire ever,” Erica scoffed.
1Well, okay, not fine because he smelled like spunk and everyone wished he’d take a fucking shower.[return to text]
2Derek had told Stiles not to ignore Edna Mode’s sage advice: No capes![return to text]