skinnydefenselessheroism:

iamthefirechild:

“And that’s why you’ve made /no/ effort to actually introduce us to each other,” Summer teases Stiles. “It’s as if you thought he wouldn’t like me!” It’s only as the words come out of her mouth that the potential truth of that hits her. Fortunately Dr Deaton comes in just then.

The little examination room is a little over-crowded with four people and an unhappy cat in it. She raises her own brows as both boys leave, eyes comically wide at Stiles’ parting shot, before she turns back to Dr Deaton. ”I can’t imagine why I would need good luck,” she says to him. “Are you secretly an alien from outer space?” It’s the weirdest thing she can come up with that’s not the truth — although come to think of it Stiles never said anything about the vet being special.

That’s how she’s decided to think of them all. Special.

Helios lays his ears back at the vet, apparently not having forgotten his impromptu visit a few weeks before. Summer tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and scratches the cat’s neck, trying to coax him to relax.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Scott likes everybody,” Stiles says, the statement easy camaraderie and a sort of throw-away quality around the edges. And then they’re gone, leaving Summer and Helios alone with Dr. Deaton.

Dr. Deaton, who has a patient smile and a gentle touch even when Helios hisses at him. “I’m a vet,” he says, plainly, but in the same immutable way a mountain refuses to budge when one puts a shoulder into it. That’s all she’s going to get out of him, unless she’s asking about advice on how to deal with Helios.

The vet doesn’t seem to mind a few scratches, if he earns them, while he checks up on Helios’ health. Eventually he even gives Helios a clean bill of health, which comes about the same time that Scott’s voice suddenly explodes into laughter, setting one of the dogs off in the back on a barking fit. Deaton—looks longsuffering, but then he always does.

Summer just huffs a chuckle, smile turning wry, at the outburst of laughter. It’s a very familiar kind of full-throated outburst, and she glances over her shoulder toward the sound. Scooping the thoroughly-violated feeling Helios into her arms, she looks up at Dr Deaton. “Does that mean there’s something you should put a stop to?” she teases.

He just shrugs slightly, with a knowing look, and opens the door for her. She tells him, “Thank you,” then calls, “Stiles? I think I’m done here. Helios wants to go home.”

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