Don't Take Yourself So Seriously

The three amigos were packed into Stiles' jeep, parked in front of the gate to the buses. The school looked completely different at night, almost ominous. Scott stood in front of the gate, climbing up. Stiles was on watch, and Kinsey stayed in the car, texting Danny and Allison she was getting into shenanigans. She lied down, feeling tired.

Kinsey felt herself drifting into sleep, but Stiles' hand grazed her thigh. Goosebumps formed. He shook her a bit. "It's a bad time to fall asleep. We could be the getaway car at any time now." Just as Stiles finished his sentence, a light shined in the direction of the bus. Scrambling to get Scott's attention, Stiles honked the horn excessively.

Scott heard him and bolted out of the bus, jumped over the fence, and busted into the car. He was breathing heavily, as if he'd just been caught killing someone. That had Kinsey worried.

"Did it work?" Stiles asked, ripping down the street. Wind rushed through Kinsey's hair in the backseat. "Do you remember?"

"Yeah, I was there last night. The blood. Some of it was mine." Scott brushed his hair back, looking worried. "I saw glowing eyes in the bus. They weren't mine. It was Derek. He was the one doing it. I was trying to protect the bus driver."

"Derek said he wasn't there. Told you he was a liar," Kinsey said, crossing her arms and pouting. “Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?"

"It's gotta be a pack thing," Stiles answered. "You're both going to have to kill together. But,” Stiles interrupted when Scott began to whine, “This means you're not a killer, Scott. It also means-"

"I can go out with Allison." Scott smiled widely, genuinely happy.

"I was going to say it means you wont kill us."

"Let him have his moment," Kinsey laughed.

* * * * *

The stale air smelled like coffee and different types of gum. Kinsey wiped off the counter and leaned against it on her elbows, wishing for a customer at Food Mart. No one was even at the gas pumps. Kinsey stared out the window, looking into the trees. Her mind was in a familiar fog of random racing thoughts.

A black Camaro rolled up to the first pump. Kinsey put her hands and forehead on the window, practically groping it. Derek walked out of the car in his usual leather jacket. Kinsey's tongue got caught in her throat as she saw him start filling it up with gas.

Dear God! I may like that car more than Stiles . . .

Pervert! Are you not checking out Derek?!

He's a killer! What the fuck, mind? The death count is at least 2!

Allegedly! Come on, do you really think he did it? He hasn't given that vibe off.

OK, you're crazy. He may have killed people. Not my type.

I'm crazy? You're talking to yourself and eye humping a car!

IT'S SO ATTRACTIVE!

Kinsey snapped back to reality when she noticed he hadn't paid yet. There was a sign that clearly stated you had to pay for gas before you started pumping. She wiped away the smudge on the window and was about to go out and yell at him when two cars pulled up, one red and one silver.

The cars came to a stop on either side of Derek's car. Kinsey stopped at the front door, squinting her eyes at the familiar keychain hanging in the silver car. Chris Argent came out of the red one, smiling maliciously. Out of the silver car came two goons, the one in the tan windbreaker being Kinsey's dad. She dropped to the floor.

Derek took the gas out, looking alarmed. Kinsey went right back up to the window, only peaking her eyes up.

"Nice ride," Chris began, sauntering up to the hood. "Black cars, though. Very hard to keep clean." King's ears pricked. She could hear the intimidation in his voice. Chris rubbed a spot on the perfectly clean car. "I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance."

Chris walked right up to Derek, who stood tall as always. Derek looked only slightly scared before wiping any emotion off of his face and hardening up again.

"When you have something this nice, you want to take care of it, right?" Chris started cleaning the windshield, which again was perfectly clean without any help. "Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love. That's something I learned from my family."

Your batshit crazy family!

"You don't have much of that these days, do you?" Kinsey could feel Derek's anger rising. He made a fist, which Chris carefully watched. Derek unclenched them, however, making Chris pleased. "There we go. You can look through your windshield now. Doesn't it make everything so. Much. Clearer?"

Chris started to walk away after his drawn out conversation, his intimidation methods obviously working in his favor, but Derek just had to make a comment. "You forgot to check the oil," Derek said as Chris had turned away.

Dumbass.

Chris turned around with a smirk. "Check the man's oil," he directed towards Kinsey's dad, who got up from reclining on his car. He walked over slowly and checked out the window. Kinsey closed her eyes, knowing what he was about to do. She couldn't dare watch him defile something so precious. Kinsey's dad busted the driver's side window. At the sound of the destruction, Kinsey nearly shifted right there.

"Looks good to me," he said smugly. I'M GOING TO PISS IN YOUR CEREAL, DAD! You work as a damn mechanic; this should be against your own code. He's going to have to drive out of town to even get it fixed!

"Drive safely," Chris said, the smirk never leaving his face. The hunters drove away in sync, leaving Derek completely alone.

It was dead silent. Derek kept staring down the cars, expecting them to turn back. He moved to look at the damage of his Camaro. He sighed dramatically, looking vulnerable when he thought he no one was looking. Derek put his hand above the window and placed his head on it.

Poor baby . . .

Jesus, King. Why don't you just go work in a freaking orphanage already and get this thing called caring out of your system?

After the hunters were out of sight, Kinsey came outside with a trash bag and gloves. Her little smock apron moved side to side as she walked silently. Derek's eyes shifted towards her, unaware anyone had seen that. Not knowing what to say, Kinsey choked out “That was really rude and destructive. Here.”

Derek just stood there as she opened up his car door and started picking up some pieces of glass. She worked as quite as mouse for a minute, picking up the big pieces so Derek could drive.

Oh, this is awkward. Why'd you come out here?

Derek still hadn't said anything, so Kinsey made the first attempt at conversation. She looked over the top of the car to see Derek staring at her, confused. "Learn when to make your smart ass comments, Mr. Hale. It's a crime for anyone to break such a beautiful piece of art like this."

Kinsey cleaned up a few more pieces, placing the bag between both seats. Kinsey was surprised when Derek opened the passenger side door and made an effort to help her. He was still mute, though, which perplexed Kinsey. Derek didn't even thank her for helping him clean it up.

It was an odd sight to see them working together like this.

"I never caught your name," he said out of the blue, making Kinsey jump at his deep voice. It wasn't usually so low. In fact, it always caught Kinsey off guard that it wasn't gruff.

She looked up to the blue eyes inches away. Derek didn't even notice his eyes were shifting. Kinsey didn't notice her's either. They both figured the other one wasn't fond of them.

"It's Kinsey, but my friends call me King. Call me Kinsey." Sassy point for me.

Derek smirked, as much as Derek could smirk (basically nothing), and asked, "Are you Stiles' sister?"

Kinsey stopped what she was doing and raised an eyebrow. "No . . . I'm Scott's cousin. Where'd that come from?"

Derek's eyebrows furrowed. "You have his nose-"

"And all the moles. I've heard it before, but we're not even related." Kinsey finished picking up what pieces she could and tied the bag up. She crawled out of the car and stood next to the pump. "Have a nice day," she said enthusiastically (a requirement of the job). Derek walked back to his car, staring at Kinsey the whole time with his eyebrows hunched.

"Do you want a tip or something?" he asked, hanging out the front window.

It took a second for Kinsey to understand. "I didn't help you because it's my job. I helped because I wanted to."

Derek drove off, still looking confused. That was the first time she felt something was off about Hale, but not in a serial killer way. In fact, he didn't seem to be as hardened as she thought.

She has to have bad motives, Derek thought. Was she afraid? Trying to get on my good side because she thinks I killed my own sister? The idea that Kinsey wanted to help him was perplexing. People never treated him with care. The only people he encountered were hunters, and people who took his stony expressions the wrong way. They assumed he was rude when he was silent, or they got scared of him when he scowled.

Stiles and Scott were never trying to help Derek. They just wanted help themselves. It made sense in his head that she wouldn't do this for no reason. No one was nice to him for no reason. The entire drive home it drove Derek mad as to what her reason could possibly be. She seemed genuine, though. That killed him farther. Something was up with her.

“OK, shes a Chevy girl. I guess that's cool. Can't be all bad,” Derek reasoned to himself.