It was funny that he only had half a clue. Distantly, it was funny, but Derek wasn’t really a ‘funny’ guy so he hardly cared. It was something Stiles would laugh at if he were aware.
Sometimes it seemed like he was completely in the dark, but Derek was more than sure that he wasn’t that dim. If he didn’t have at least half of a clue, Stiles would have completely missed that someone like Derek would have been completely distracting to the gay kid he’d brought over to con into doing something for him. And Stiles noticed how hot Derek was, that much was obvious in just how wide his eyes went, how he stared a little too long since the first moment they saw each other.
Beyond that he just missed everything else. He wrote everything he felt off as fear and anger, but mostly fear. The raised heart rate when Derek got too close, he saw that as adrenaline, which in a way it was. But Derek saw the blush, the way already rosy cheeks got pinker, he could smell it. That change. There was fear there, that was obvious, but the arousal, that was there too, and that smell? That overpowered the smell of fear.
Sometimes it made Derek wonder if Stiles had ever actually felt it before. That true burn that comes from really, really being attracted to someone. Given Stiles’ unhealthy attachment towards a girl he’d crushed on his whole life, Derek figured not so much. No one else had ever really caught his attention beyond Lydia and what he felt with Lydia became his own personal idea of arousal. Too bad it wasn’t actually the case. While as bossy as Derek could be dominating, Lydia couldn’t give Stiles what he needed and poor Stiles didn’t even know it.
And it made it all the more appealing. Derek had played both sides of the field more than once, someone who looked like him got what he wanted when he used that tool. He knew what to expect. But that innocence, the fact that Stiles had absolutely no clue what lay in wait for him? That was perfect and often more than he could bear. To the point where he snapped, pushing Stiles too hard against something, threatening his life, just to balance things out again. It was part of why Derek kept coming back even if Stiles said continuously he’d be better off if Derek was dead. They needed one another. Usually just to get something done, but Derek wasn’t stupid, there was something else they needed, they just hadn’t taken it yet. And while in his head Stiles might think things would be easier if Derek were out of the picture completely? If he really felt that way he might have actually let something happen to him. At this point, he’d saved Derek’s life so many times, he’d almost stopped pointing it out after every time.
And Derek has done the same, saving his life on numerous occasions. Not werewolf, not part of the ‘pack’, Stiles was his. Everyone knew it. Well, everyone but Stiles. He was still figuring that part out, but Derek didn’t need to rush him. He’d get there on his own time. Which was why, Derek kept telling himself, that he hadn’t turned him yet. He could. If he wanted he could catch Stiles, bite him when he wouldn’t know it was coming. But he didn’t need Stiles to be like him. He needed him to be Stiles. He’d proven just fine that he held his own as a human. It was a cheap shot to take the easy way out.
Like now. It would be so easy to do right now, but he wasn’t doing it. Instead he was just watching the zonked out boy, tangled in his sheets, head hanging off the bed, half drooling. Why did he enjoy this mess of a human again? Stiles shifted in his sleep, baring the inside of one arm, showing the tattoo that matched Derek’s, which was reminder enough. A stupid, drunken mistake, in an attempt to prove himself, but that didn’t mean Derek didn’t love seeing it any less. In an impulsively rebellious moment the boy had picked the design on his back to put on his arm permanently. It was like he didn’t even realize he’d branded himself as Derek’s. And it reminded him why he was here. Faintly smirking to himself he nudged the boy gently with his boot, watching Stiles jerk awake, tangle in the sheets more and fall off the bed.
Sitting in his desk chair Derek laughed darkly as Stiles jerked around until he spotted him, rubbing his face. “Why do you do that?” Stiles demanded as Derek laughed again. This was easily the only place he actually laughed, the two of them alone and even then it was almost strictly at Stiles’ discomfort.
“I didn’t do anything. You’re the klutz who can’t even sleep properly.” At least not alone. He’d slept just fine curled up against Derek a few weeks before. They didn’t talk about that night though. No one did.
“Yeah well…you just sort of creepily show up in the middle of the night and scare the hell out of a guy.” Stiles reached for his sweats, tugging them on in some sort of attempt at modesty. The same kid who tricked Derek into undressing for show was self-conscious about being in just his boxers. “What do you want?” he demanded, though it was rather weak for a demand. That wasn’t anything against Stiles; it was just how they worked. He made these half-assed demands and Derek tried not to laugh. They knew who the dominant one was. It was cute that Stiles tried. If Stiles wanted something, he had other ways of getting it and making a demand while he put on pants wasn’t it.
“We need to talk. About…things.” Derek wasn’t ever one to give much away, not when there was plenty to see. And Stiles kept moving, finding a shirt to cover the tattoo he wasn’t supposed to have. Derek wondered if Stiles’ father knew about it yet. It was easy enough for the younger boy to hide. It should be the other way, that Derek enjoyed watched him undress more than dress, but both were surprisingly entertaining.
“Things? Fucking a Derek it’s…Three am,” Stiles said looking at the clock then dropping to sit on his bed. “You don’t wake a guy up in the middle of the fucking night on, hey, the first night where someone hasn’t tried to kill him or his friends in weeks. Real sleep you freak. And you show up with nothing. ‘Things’. Go away.” He made a move to go back to bed, even if he was suddenly too warm to sleep in all his clothes.
“I was waiting for you to finish getting dressed.” There was a hint of a smile there, something almost malicious, because, just as he expected, Stiles’ heart rate when up a notch or two and his breathing changed.
“Fine. What?” Stiles asked, looking over at Derek and rubbing his face. “You weren’t…you weren’t standing here creepily watching me sleep were you?”
“Does this look like a Twilight movie?”
“Actually that was the vampire not the shape…I’ll shut up,” Stiles said when Derek gave him a look. “Seriously, why are you here? The last thing we need is my dad waking up to find you sort of, taking over my room.” While Derek might have been cleared of whatever crimes they thought he committed, Stiles was sure his father was not going to be a fan.
Derek nodded and leaned back in the chair a little. “How are things?” he ventured which got him an exasperated look.
“Middle of the night to ask me how I am? Seriously? You’re fucking with me right? This is some sort of sick joke. Let’s fuck with Stiles thing. Is it April Fool’s Day?” He got up, looking for his phone to check the date, only to realize it was on his desk behind Derek. He walked towards it, leaning over Derek who gave him a look from under him.
There it was again, that smell, the change. “Do I look like someone who would fuck with you?” Stiles’ cheeks went pink and he pulled away stumbling back to the bed to fall into sitting on it.
“Things are fine. Nothing’s trying to kill us…me…them. Can’t you just bother Scott for these updates? Why me?” Since that was what it was, Derek checking in on the ‘other’ pack.
“I like your perspective on things.” And he liked Stiles. Which he guessed Stiles was getting when he pinked more and that scent filled more of the space between them.
“Well he does seem to only have a mind for one thing. Everyone’s mostly fine. Like I said, first full night of sleep. Why aren’t you sleeping?” Stiles asked, biting back the second set of questions, the ones about Erica and in a new addition to his endless scrolling of jealousy, Isaac. Why he was jealous he couldn’t quite pinpoint, it was more just this overall feeling of jealousy. Maybe because they were wolves and he was still kind of a dork.
“I’m more nocturnal.” Which mean Derek slept better when he knew the pack was at school and awake and together. When Stiles was with Scott. “There’s just..something on the wind. Something I don’t trust.”
Stiles made a face and cocked his head to side. “Seriously? Seriously? We just…can’t we catch a break? No not a break that sounds like someone, me, is going to get hurt. Can’t we get some peace? Even the Argents are playing nice and you’re talking about winds and trusting and damnit,” he said running a hand over his shot hair.
“No one is going to hurt you,” Derek half growled before he even realized he’d snapped out at Stiles who froze completely. For a long moment something hung in the air between them as Stiles stared at him.
“I…okay.” What else could Stiles say? Did Derek mean himself? That he was the one who was going to protect him? Because sure Scott did okay most of the time, but that depended upon just about anyone else not being around to get hurt. Stiles might be his best friend, but Scott seemed to get caught up in his own thoughts a lot and often forgot hat his best friend was human. Maybe Derek meant himself.
There was an answer to be given, but Derek heard something else, glancing towards the bedroom door. “You’re dad’s coming,” he said getting up and starting towards the window.
“What?” Stiles asked, trying to stumble forward like the might stop Derek, but got caught up in the sheets and tripped over them, winding up on the floor with a groan.
Derek smirked again, drawing his fingers across Stiles’ head before leaving through the window.
Electricity. That was what the touch felt like. Like something zapped him and paralyzed Stiles, still on the floor, staring at the window, when his dad opened he door to his room. Turning he stared at his dad, eyes wide, breathing shallower than he had just moments before. “Dad?”
“You okay? I heard voices and…a thump.” The sheriff had the same tired face as his son, rubbing at his eyes the same way Stiles had.
“Yeah…dreams and I…fell.” The lie was poor, but it seemed to do the trick as his father nodded.
“Alright, go back to bed. It’s late.” Stiles nodded in answer as his father left, closing the door behind him. Once alone again he went back to staring at the window, waiting for the air in the room to cool down, but it never did. Letting his head thunk back on the bed, he stayed on the floor, sure he wasn’t sleeping for the rest of the night.
i beta'd this, so hopefully it's not too messed up.
Still sorting out how much is too much / too little for an update. feel free to weigh in. Thanks!
“What are you on?” Scott demanded as they pulled into the school parking lot and Stiles actually took a breath in the incessant lecture he’d just been on about winds of change or some such shit. It was a special brand of impossible to follow, annoying babble. Even for Stiles. And after the first thirty seconds in the car with Stiles’ manic driving, Scott was relieved they’d made it in one piece.
“What? Nothing. I mean...nothing new. Adderall. I couldn’t sleep.” Stiles ran his hand over his head for what felt like the billionth time. He had decided it was a werewolf thing, something weird that had left him all tingly and such. He was secretly trying to come up with a good way to ask Scott to do it just to prove that he was, in fact, correct in his assumption, but the right way hadn’t come to mind. And while his mind to mouth filter wasn’t the best, he was sure ‘hey buddy, rub my head so I can see if it feels as crazy as when Derek does it’ wasn’t going to do anything other than confuse Scott more. “Seriously though I was up all night researching things and I think I figured out what we need. Or what’s coming. We need like a bad shit vane. Cause Derek, he was saying something doesn’t feel right in the air.” Stiles ran his hand over his head again.
“Derek? Where the hell did Derek come from? And really, what is this? You’re touching your head like you’re a meth addict. When did you talk to Derek? Why were you talking to Derek?” Scott was somewhat pack, but when he didn’t really need Derek, he kept to his own pack which was mostly Allison, Stiles and maybe Lydia. Possibly Jackson but he was still rather distant from everyone. “And why didn’t you sleep? This was like, the first night I slept in weeks.” Which really meant he slept part of the night in Allison’s bed, then the rest of it in his. That was his idea of normal though.
“What? Derek. Your Derek. Our Derek. He came by to chat. And he said something about winds and change and something brewing and I started looking into it and I think he might be on to something if he meant the cloud cover that’s coming in from the west. But like I was saying, winds don’t usually move that way so it’s more weird,” Stiles said without breathing until Scott hit him to stop him.
“Dude. Stop. When did he come by to chat? What did he want?” Scot asked as Stiles rubbed his arm.
“Last night,” Stiles explained, brow creasing as he spoke. “Why are you fixated on that part and not the part where he said something’s coming?” He was waving his hands around, gesticulating between issues, something far more waving on the side that he thought was more important, which was definitely not Derek. Certainly not Derek. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up in the first place.
“Because it’s weird. You don’t think it’s weird?” Scott made a face himself, scrunching up his eyebrow in a way that Stiles couldn’t imitate.
“I…is it?” Stiles’ hand went to his tattoo hidden under his sleeve without any real thought to what he was doing. “Maybe. I didn’t really think about it like that.” He stubbed a sneakered toe against the wall of lockers repeatedly as he waited for Scott to get his books. After Derek had left, sleep had been impossible. There was no going back to bed and lying there, wondering what had Derek coming over, just how long he’d watched Stiles sleep and why that touch had been so shocking.
“It is. He’s weird about you,” Scott said, shaking his head.
“What? Weird about me? He’s a damn werewolf, he’s let you half joined his pack and then half quit it. He’s got the two of the most twisted people we know as the majority of his pack and then Boyd who’s like a mac truck but he doesn’t really listen to Derek. And you’ve decided he’s weird about me? That’s got to be the least thing he’s weird about. He’s just Derek. He’s lurking and brooding and socially awkward.”
“How do you know all of this about him?” Scott asked, leaning against his locker once the door was closed. Stiles tended towards observant, but only when whatever he was observing interested him and for some reason Derek was falling into that category.
“How do you not?” Stiles countered, but ducked his eyes and went back to stubbing his toe against the wall, just to fidget. “It’s your pack, or kind of is. And don’t do that brooding eye thing at me. This is why I’m not a werewolf. I like words, actual communication, instead of that stare down you’re giving me.” Stiles turned his foot to kick Scott instead, which did actually shake the look the other boy had been giving him. “You all have that. And it’s Derek. No one really understands why he does anything. So what if he showed up? Maybe you weren’t home or something.”
Scott looked guilty which had Stiles rolling his eyes. Of course Scott hadn’t been home. That explained it then. Why Derek had shown up at his place. See? He could explain it away, just like he did everything else Derek related. “Winds dude, change. Winds of change. This is important, I’m just not sure how yet. But I’m going to find out. I think. After classes. And after Lydia.”
“After Lydia what? What are you doing to…oh.” And there she was, Stiles’ kryptonite with strawberry blonde hair, short skirt, and a smile on her face. And he continued to pine after her even though now they were sort of friends and it still showed no promise. Which was completely evident when she walked right by Stiles without even looking up. “Hey McCall,” she called to Scot, leaving Stiles waving his arms again. “Nothing? I find her naked in the woods, I wait outside her hospital room for days, I save her life more than once and nothing. I still don’t exist.” Stiles let out a heady sigh and walked backward to watch her walk away even as Scott drug him in the opposite direction. “Why is she so perfect?”
“She’s not. You’re an idiot.” Scott was used to saying this and even rolled his own eyes with it. “Come on you meth-head, focus. English.”
The mention of being a meth-head had Stiles running his hand over his head, trying to recreate the feeling from the night before with no luck. It had to be a werewolf thing though, despite the lack of actual information regarding anything of the matter online. Had to be. “You just don’t think she’s perfect because she’s not Allison.”
Scott shook his head and fought back a blush. “That’s not it at all. It’s more…she’s Lydia. She’s had more than one chance to get with you and she’s obviously not. Interested. It’s time to give up.”
Stiles made a face and shook his head. “And what? If I told you to give up on Allison because her family wants to kill you, because her mom did try and kill you, you’d what? Quote Romeo and Juliet at me? Or well not quote because you’re failing that class too, but you get the idea.”
Scott threw a pen at Stiles’ head and focused on his desk instead. “Fine. Pine after a girl that doesn’t want you. See if I care.” He’d probably still pick up the broken pieces of Stiles’ heart anyway.
Sticking his tongue out at Scott in a moment of pure childish attitude, Stiles turned to focus on his own desk, hand in his hair again as he stared off into space. This wasn’t interesting. He’d finished the book they were supposed to finish next week three nights ago. If he participated he’d wind up spoiling the end of it for everyone. Which they might claim to not care about, but they got pissy about when he did it last time.
“You’re going to keep touching your head until your hair falls out,” Scott murmured at Stiles from his seat next to him in class. Stiles jerked into focus, not even sure where the last ten minutes had gone or why hew as doodling random spirals all across his notebook.
“It’s just…it’s just weird feeling today. That’s all. Shut up,” he whispered back before looking up, only to realize that Scott was engrossed in staring at Allison instead and probably didn’t even hear him. “Figures,” he half mumbled, going back to his doodling.
“What did you want with Stiles?” Scott asked before Derek had even come out of the train car yet. Derek would know he was there, probably knew he was there miles before he got there, so why bother with idle chatter?
Derek wandered out to look at the younger wolf, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. What did he want? That was as loaded as question got didn’t it? A few things shifted through his mind, none of them either solid enough to vocalize or worth the resulting implications to vocalize. “What does it matter?” he asked instead, keeping his face clear of what his thoughts were.
“Because you’re weird about him. He’s not your pack.” Scott was holding his shoulders back, trying to seem tougher even as Isaac and Erica drifted from their respective corners to watch what was going on. In the end Scott might just be a Beta, but he ranked higher than the others because he came first and in a way he had a pack of his own. And the others hadn’t openly threatened Derek like Scott had.
“Because he’s your pack? You don’t think that being part of yours makes him part of mine?” Derek asked. “You aren’t wearing an Alpha mantle, you just have characteristics. What’s yours is mine in a way.” And Stiles was more his than Scott was some days. “Plus he’s better with giving me an update not tinged with the scent of Argent.”
“So you do think something’s coming?” Scott demanded, taking a step forward, but Derek stayed where he was.
“I think it’s plausible. I think it’s been too quiet for things to be over. I feel more like the quiet is a bad sign.” Derek couldn’t ignore the hair standing up on the back of his neck and that just never seemed to go away.
Scott threw his hands up and let out an exasperated noise. “Why can’t quiet be good? Like a break. Maybe things aren’t shitty.”
Derek watched the younger boy, brooding hanging off his frame like a cloak. “Have you ever heard the woods go completely silent?” he asked pushing off the wall and starting to circle Scott. “Devoid of all sound? Like everything goes completely blank?” he asked. He stopped, somewhere behind Scott who was trying hard not to flinch or look back. “It means something bad. That’s what we have right now. An eerie calm before the storm. I don’t trust it.”
The tension rose in the room and he could sense it, the way his other wolves were inching closer, sensing what was changing in the room itself, let alone outside of it. Isaac and Erica split apart, creeping in different directions and even Boyd, who usually stayed out of the power plays shifted into view as well. All circling Scott, all watching Derek for a sign that he needed them to join in on the fight.
“So tell me Scott, which would you rather? Be caught complete unawares, or put the person most likely to spot a connection before your love sick self could on the case? Would you even see it if she was standing between you and it? No. I went to the one person who doesn’t reek of sex and cares enough to save your ass.” Which was exactly what Stiles did, put together patterns and distantly save asses. It was part of his charm really.
Scott bristled, something close to a low growl coming out of his mouth as Derek shook his head and gave him a hefty push forward, enough to make Scott stumble, but he held up a hand to keep the others from jumping into things. Scott growled again as he turned, eyes glowing yellow for a moment until he had a better grip on things. “Fine,” he said, not wanting to get into it with the Alpha when obviously the others were hyped up on something in the air. “But don’t make a habit of this. You can talk to me.”
Derek shook his head. “Sneaking into windows at the Argent house is your game. Not mine. I have no interest in it,” he said. “But you carry on.”
That upset Scott just like Derek thought it would and the Beta lunged at him with a growl, which left them rolling around on the floor until Derek threw him away and jumped back to his feet. The other wolves were closing in, growling more and Derek just laughed darkly. “Really? You’re still starting fights over her? Why are we doing this? You know how I feel about you sleeping with the enemy and I know how you feel about me dropping in on your best friend. Let it go. The anger’s going to eat you up.”
“You mess with his head!” Scott yelled and went to lunge again, but Derek moved out of the way. Did he? Derek found that a touch interesting, but he didn’t let the reaction show.
“I do nothing of the sort,” Derek said. “Not even close to it. Or are you jealous? Can’t share him? You barely notice him.” Which always kind of irked Derek, but he rarely brought it up. There was laughter somewhere else in the room, something higher pitched, but not enough to Erica. Isaac then. Of course he would find it amusing.
“I don’t need to be jealous. He would choose me over you,” Scott said, not entirely realizing what his words were implying which resulted in another peal of laughter from Isaac.
“I’m sure he would,” Derek said, not believing it when he said it. These days he wasn’t sure whom Stiles would choose. He’d picked Scott often, but things were different. Derek wasn’t as distant a part of his life and he didn’t seem to want Derek as dead as he had in the past. Maybe that came with saving each other’s lives. Or maybe it was that extra scent that poured of Stiles. That plus the fact that Derek messed his head was interesting. Maybe he was acting on feelings he didn’t realize he had. There was another murmur of noise from the left, but this time Derek shot Isaac a glance that clearly said shut up.
Scott shook off the dirt on his shirt and started towards the stairs. “Just leave him alone. If you need something come to me.” Derek raised an eyebrow at the order, but shrugged. That was likely something he’d break, but he’d let Scott think he won this one for now. It was easier than arguing about it. Maybe it would get Scott’s head out of the clouds and he’d remember that there were more people in his life than his girlfriend.
un-beta'd, but I swear I edited it.
this takes place a few months before the current time line.
Stiles was definitely not joking when he did the math to himself and realized he’d been awake for forty-eight hours. And if he was honest, the three hours of sleep he’d gotten in the last seventy-two hours were the only thing keeping him from having those terrifying waking-dreaming state moments like in the Nightmare on Elm Street movie. The only thing.
Sighing, he thunked his head against the glass window that looked into Lydia’s hospital room. He hated that she was here again, looking just as bad as when he’d had to leave her on the football field, bleeding out and possibly dying because that fucking Alpha had bit her. There was something seriously wrong if the poor girl couldn’t catch a break. And if he couldn’t get over this stupid crush on her. And as useful as this window was he needed to talk to someone about getting her out of this fishbowl of a room. If she was conscious she’d be really pissed to see her hair as messed up as it was on display for everyone in the hospital to see.
He should have jumped when Derek was suddenly there, hand on the back of his neck and pulling him away from the window, but no. No reaction. Who cared if someone was here to kill him, he was mostly dead on his feet already. “Home Stiles. You need to sleep.”
“She needs me.”
“Like a hole in her head she needs you. You got her here. Now I’m getting you home.” Stiles rolled his head a little to look at Derek, not at all surprised that his face ordered Stiles not to fuck with him. But even if Stiles had wanted to protest, he was in no condition to do so. He was merely being drug along and dumped into the front seat of the Camero.
“Fuck. My Jeep’s at the school. Take me over there I’ll get it.”
Derek glanced at Stiles’ who even as he said it had eyes half lidded shut and his head against the passenger window. “Try again. I’ll take you tomorrow,” he said continuing them towards Stiles’ house instead.
Stiles was going to protest that too, opened his mouth to do it, a great litany of insults and comments about driving a half dead Derek around, but all that came out was “okay.”
With the sheriff still at the hospital or the station trying to put together the worst of what had happened, the Stillinski house was quiet and dark, which suited Derek fine. He parked the car half a block away then pulled Stiles towards his house, then his room.
Once in the room Derek watched Stiles, just like every other time he walked into his room, head to the computer, waking it up as if to go back to work. “I think I’ve figured something about, about her immunity,” he was saying but it was slurred from exhaustion. Derek reached out one hand, catching Stiles at the back of the collection of shirt and jacket layers he had on and pulled him towards the bed the same way one would scruff a puppy.
“No more work. Sleep. You can work when you’ve regained consciousness.” He set Stiles down on the edge of the bed and after a moment of hesitation sat with him. Derek was going to ask if he was okay until Stiles’ head dropped against his shoulder, causing Derek to stare at him more confused than ever. Closing his eyes he shook his head. “You’re an idiot,” he mumbled then nudged the boy back, trying to get him to lie down. And Stiles almost went, but one hand had tangled in Derek’s shirt, something he probably didn’t even realize he was doing in his sleep, and was pulling the wolf with him.
It wouldn’t be too hard to untangle himself, get Stiles’ hand off of him, but it would wake the guy up, and probably yield some really awkward conversation. Not to mention, as Derek half went with him, he could already feel that warmth, something that only came from another person being so close and in an instant the wolf was craving it. Sighing, he toed out of his shoes as he lay down as well, rolling on his side and trying not to be surprised at the fact that Stiles rolled into him, face close to his chest. “For the record this never happened and if you bring it up I will kill you,” he warned though Stiles was out cold and wouldn’t hear it. Not sure what to make of himself he brushed his fingers across the top of Stiles’ head and closed his eyes, letting sleep take over.
again, un-betaed, but edited by me.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
The Argents needed to get over this whole ‘Scott and Allison aren’t allowed to date’ nonsense because Stiles was freezing sitting out here in the woods on the hood of his jeep, watching them cuddle on a rock while they tried to talk through things. In a normal world this could have happened in the library or today at lunch, not watching clouds in the middle of the conversation and wondering if it might snow. Could it snow in this part of California? Probably not. No that was just going to be really, really cold rain. “So you’re saying they’re gearing up for hunting something?” he asked, bouncing his leg and telling himself it was to keep warm and not because he’s jittery, though jittery is far more accurate. Of course Derek had to be right about things about to get bad again.
“That’s what it looks like. New shipments of supplies, talk of big things, warnings about claws. And Dad has me training in a way that I was ducking in and out of being slashed at. He said something about Rakkas, Rashkas, something,” Allison said as she held on to Scott’s hand, mostly talking to him rather than Stiles, which was fine because Stiles had let Derek back into his mind and had gone back to touching the top of his head and barely paying attention. Why hadn’t he seen Derek since that night? Didn’t he think it was a good idea to follow up after putting the idea of something going terribly wrong in his head? He was halfway to being angry at the stupid wolf for just disappearing for four days when what Allison was saying filtered through and he sat up so fast he almost fell off the hood.
“Rakashasas?” he asked as he tried to right himself, eyes wide. “Seriously?” Allison looked up surprised, giving him the wide-eyed look he was sure she had to practice.
“Yes that. You’ve heard of them?”
“You haven’t?” Stiles asked, stressing the last word and throwing his hands up in the air looking between the two of them who both stared blankly back at him. “Seriously? You’re the youngest in an epic line of hunters and you are a supernatural being and neither of you decided it was a good idea to I don’t know, look something up every so often?” They continued to stare at him blankly and Stiles climbed down off the Jeep and shook his head. “Rakashasas are giant ugly demons with big claws that like to rip up poor innocent people. And their claws are venomous. So not only are you getting ripped up, you’re sick as a result. Makes their prey easier to get their hands, claws…paws…whatever on you. Not a good thing.”
He stomped around the driver side of the Jeep and opened the door, looking at both of them for a moment before waving at it. “Are you getting in or am I going to talk to the Alpha by myself?” Which wouldn’t really be bad, but at the same time Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to invade Derek’s den without permission on his own. There was still a chance Derek could go back to possibly wanting to kill him. Maybe not kill but being fine with physical assaulting him. It took another stomp before the duo moved and actually got in the Jeep like he demanded. Why was he having to make demands again?
“Why do we have to tell Derek?” Allison asked as Stiles drove.
“You’re joking right? Do you have any idea how dangerous these things are? And if Derek finds them and starts his wolves after it? Or worse them? We’re okay with letting them go after it with no information? He was the one thinking something was up, which means he’s looking for whatever is up.” Stiles was fully aware of the fact that he was the one who was suddenly trying to take care of everyone, which was weird. Usually that was Scott. Maybe it was because Allison was sure she didn’t like Derek anymore. Stiles couldn’t really fault her for that, but it was still Derek. He was like family in a way, or something else. Stiles’ mind went down a different road and he shook his head to make it go away.
Scott sensed that too and nodded as if that was going to make things right in the world. “Right yeah. Maybe we can help.” Stiles nodded and let out a breath, something easier than the one he had right before that. Because otherwise, Stiles was left having to explain why it was he was so invested in Derek’s safety and beyond babbling about the whole ‘treading water in the pool for two hours’ incident, he didn’t have a valid answer.
“We’ll drop Allison off and head over there.”
Derek was already waiting when they wandered into his den, eyebrow raised at the lingering scent of Allison. “What?” he asked, bristling, which had Scott bristling back and leaving Stiles to throwing up his hands and pushing past them to hold up his computer.
“We found something,” he said opening it up and pulling up a page. “I had added it to my own bestiary, but I didn’t think it was anything more than a myth. Apparently I was wrong.”
“Bestiality?” Isaac asked wandering out of the shadows and circling Stiles, running his tongue over his teeth in a way that made him look overly creepy. “Did you finally make an impression on the virgin Erica?” Isaac ran his fingers over the back of Stiles’ neck as Erica laughed from where she was.
“Maybe I did,” Eric cooed in a way that wasn’t exactly sexy. More terrifying.
“Maybe not,” Stiles yelped swatting at the back of his neck well after Isaac had left. That left him with weird shivers to the point where he almost missed the dirty look that Derek gave Isaac. “Beastiary, why do none of you hear me right when I say that word? Wait…virgin. Who said I was a virgin? I’m not a virgin. Are you guys actually referring to me as ‘the virgin’ because that’s essentially the definition of not cool.” Stiles looked around at everyone, expecting the look of disbelief from the wolves but not the shocked and confused look he was getting from Scott.
“You didn’t…you completely didn’t hear me when I told you about that? Awesome. I have the best friend any guy could ever ask for.” Fantastic. Scott was officially an ass. “Her name was Annaelise, she worked at the Java Hut...” Stiles started to explain, hoping something would spark recognition with Scott with no luck.
“Lavender,” Derek interjected, which had Stiles turning to look at him with wide eyes. “For two weeks you smelled like coffee and lavender.” Not something he should be admitting to noticing, but after blurting out the first part it was impossible not to. That’s what that had been.
“Uh yeah. I guess. I kind of thought she smelled like coffee and purple, but I guess if purple is going to smell like something it smells like lavender. Or grape.”
“Stiles what did you come here for?” Derek interrupted, not wanting to hear about Annaelise or whomever the hell it was Stiles had lost his virginity to.
“What? Oh. Um. Bestiary. We figured out what could be coming. Or what might be coming. You know your bad feeling in the air and all that?” Stiles held up his computer again and opened it up, pulling up the right page to show Derek.
Derek could sense Scott watching him, but he still moved closer to Stiles to look at the page that he’d opened the computer to. “What is this?”
“This is a bestiary. I’ve been putting it together since we started getting chased by monsters. And that,” Stiles explained pointing to the picture. “That’s a Rakashasa. It’s this big demon with claws and shit and the Argents are worried about them. This is what you’re sensing.”
Derek pulled the computer from Stiles’ hands, reading through it while Stiles winced at the sight of his computer in that brute’s hands. “You do know…like my whole life is on that thing. Don’t break it.”
Derek gave Stiles a look holding the computer up over his head and out of the younger boys reach, at least until he read something that seemed more complicated than he was used to. “What’s this about their claws,” he said, fiddling with the computer to make it scroll.
“They’re poisoned. I don’t know what that means for a werewolf, but I know what it means for a human. You’re fucked. Or I’m fucked, since I’m the only human currently in the room.” Derek was nodding, looking through the information before he closed the laptop and handed it back to Stiles.
“Not good news. We need to be ready. Have the Argents actually seen anything?” Derek asked Scott who shook his head.
“Not that they’ve told her.”
Derek turned his attention back to Stiles who looked up surprised to see people staring at him. “What?”
“Your dad? Has there been anything?” Derek didn’t sound amused when he had to ask again.
“Huh? Oh. No. Well not that I’ve heard of. He’s trying not to tell me everything.” That earned Stiles a look, which had him jumping a little. “I can ask. Or you know, snoop. Yeah I’ll snoop. And turn on the police scanner in the car.”
For a long moment everyone was quiet, as if waiting for something to happen right then, someone’s phone to buzz about a dead body found in the woods, ripped to shreds. It took less than thirty seconds for it to get awkward and shockingly it was Scott that broke the silence, not Stiles.
“You weren’t lying about the virginity thing. And you weren’t lying about telling me about it.” It was a statement, but so full of disbelief that it almost sounded like a question.
Stiles stared at his best friend, mouth agape. “No. You can tell if I was lying. Why are all of you so convinced I’ve managed to fool your stupid lie detector test? Is it really that impossible to believe that somewhere along the line of saving all your asses someone might have you know…wanted to do things with me?” he demanded, voice going a little shrill at the sight of all of them staring at him. “I hate you all. One for not noticing and two for just assuming I’m incapable of wooing a girl or something. Hate.”
He shoved his computer back into his bag, avoiding all of their stares, but it was impossible not to look up at Derek because he could actually feel the werewolf glaring at him. And when he did look up, Stiles didn’t see what he expected. Honestly he wasn’t sure what he expected, but the look said one thing clearly. Stop talking about it. It wasn’t the typical, shut up Stiles look he was so used to. No, this one said never bring it up around him again.
Taking a step back, Stiles looked at Scott then nodded towards the stairs. “You want a ride home that you don’t deserve?” he asked before taking the steps two at a time, just to get away.
I chose to decide that things between Derek and Allison never really go back to being normal after the whole thing that happens with her mother. (pseudo spoiler for 2.09 & 2.10)
same as before apply. Enjoy.
I know it's really close after the last post, but I wanted to get this up before I'm not around much tomorrow when I normally would have posted it.
It took a while, but Scott eventually found Stiles outside the school during lunch sitting in his jeep and listening to the police scanner while he munched on his sandwich. His friend had been less than friendly during morning practice and classes, opting to talk to himself or bother Danny rather than his usual banter with Scott. When Scott got to the jeep he let himself in the passenger side to which Stiles gave him a dirty look.
“What? It was unlocked.”
“You’re lucky I have nothing of value in here or you would have been locked out. You deserve to be locked out.” Stiles took an angry bite of his sandwich and forced a look of utter focus on the static coming from the radio, something that looked obviously painful after fifteen seconds.
“Are you really that mad at me?” Scott asked, brow furrowing.
“Yes,” Stiles answered, mouth full of food. He chewed in silence for a moment more but once he swallowed he really couldn’t help himself. “Yes. A lot mad. Really mad. Like, blow things up mad. That was this major life-changing point of my life and you just missed it. Like because you and Allison had some non-anniversary because you aren’t really dating, but you’ve been lying about dating for six months. Seriously. It was a big deal. I met a girl, she seduced me, I got a freaking tattoo to impress her and then she ended it as quickly as it started and I haven’t seen her since.” Not that he’d looked that hard because when it ended he’d felt like quite the idiot for getting used by some college girl on her break and surprisingly enough he’d managed not to obsess about it and turned his attentions back to Lydia. Not that Scott deserved to get let off the hook for it, but Stiles had done his damnedest to pretend it never happened, which was hard given the ink on his arm. Of course he’d done a good job of just pretending that had other motivations.
“That really happened? I think I kind of thought you were talking about a video game or something.”
The look that Stiles gave Scott was ice cold, one he’d learned from hanging out with werewolves and Jackson. “Seriously. A video game. Did you miss where I still have the freaking tattoo? Worst best friend ever. Actually I’d do better with Jackson or Isaac as a best friend. You’re replaced and I’m going to start auditioning the two of them for who might be better at listening.”
“Isaac and Jackson are the ones who call you ‘the virgin’.”
“Well they won’t now will they!?”
That shut Scott up and Stiles sat back in his seat with a satisfied grunt. Served him right for being a bad friend.
“Annaelise who worked at the Java Hut,” Scott repeated, glancing at Stiles in a way that said, yes he wanted to try and have this conversation again and this time he’d remember it.
Letting out a hefty sigh Stiles wound up nodding. Scott might be the worst best friend ever but he knew exactly how to push Stiles’ buttons and make him talk. “Yeah. She was on break from her first year of college. Architecture major with dark hair and blue eyes.” Which sounded like she could have been related to Derek which kind of left Stiles stumbling over his own words for a moment and reaching to touch the top of his head. “She liked me, though I’m not sure why and things got…hot. After the tattoo. That, she got me a bit drunk then dared me to get and tada, marked for life. Then, heated.”
Scott waited for more but didn’t get anything and he wound up punching Stiles’ arm. “And?”
“And what? It was good I guess. I didn’t have a lot to compare it to, but things worked or whatever. That’s not how you word that is it? And then she left for college. She texted me a few times after she left, but I think she was not so keen on keeping something going with a guy in high school.” Plus it was Stiles and while he talked like he was awesome he was pretty sure he wasn’t.
“So you lost it and we talked about it and I missed it?” Scott frowned and Stiles nodded.
“Yup. Before practice one day. I was even trying to talk louder than usual so maybe someone would overhear it and be impressed. Only Danny did and he just looked at me like I was insane or possibly lying or saying something outlandish to get your attention. You suck as much as you think you do.”
Scott punched Stiles again who whimpered a little. “That’s not fair that it hurts me more when you do that than it did before.”
“So why’d you get that design tattooed on you?” Scott asked after a moment of silence between them, cutting his eyes at Stiles. “Because…it looks like Derek’s. And both Isaac and Boyd have picked up on that.” Neither had said anything bad about it, but one had pointed out something huge. It looked like Stiles had been marked.
In a rare moment Stiles was speechless and he looked away from Scott, shrugging his shoulders as if that was an answer. Why had he? Because Derek as creepy as he could be he was cooler than Stiles, because the tattoo on his back was awesome looking and maybe Stiles wanted a part of that for himself. Because in a late night of not being able to sleep after he’d watched Derek strip in front of him in the vet’s office he’d googled the design to find out what it was and liked what it meant. Because for some reason when he was drunk that was where his mind went. None of that would make sense to Scott and thankfully the radio made a scratchy noise, then cut to someone talking.
“I haven a one-eight-seven here. Or what appears to be.”
“I’m at the edge of the reserve. And there are body parts. Lots. This doesn’t look good.”
Now it was Stiles’ turn to hit Scott. “That’s it. That’s what’s going on. Do we go?” Odds are his dad would be there, seeing through things, which meant there’d be no avoiding the punishment for obviously skipping classes and listening in on the radio part.
“No, we tell Derek. Have him check it out and we’ll look into it after practice,” Scott said. “You know you’d get in trouble if we went now. And I have a quiz I’m going to fail last period.”
Stiles didn’t love that idea because he liked getting in the middle of things, but it was better than getting grounded. He wound up getting out his phone to send a message off to Derek. Why was he right? Right was never good.
same as always. enjoy !
‘Bodies ripped to shreds’ was the nice way of putting the miniature massacre of a campsite that had been found. They’d looked like they were torn up in a way that even wolves weren’t good at. Like something large had pulled them apart the way someone would tear up a piece of paper. It was alarming. And way too close to the Hale homestead for both Derek and the police to find comfortable. Thankfully the cops hadn’t found anything when they poked around, but there was a reason Derek didn’t come here as much as he used to. Reasons he didn’t want the cops to know more about than they already did.
As the sun was setting Derek was leaning against one of the only columns that was strong enough to hold his weight on the front porch, brow furrowed in frustration and possibly anger. Scott was on his way, likely with Stiles in tow so they could figure out what to do, though Derek already had a drastic plan in mind, something he was blaming on his mood though he doubted that would stop him from trying to see the plan into fruition. For now the rest of the wolves were in the house, staying close to keep from running into trouble on their own. Almost all of them at least.
“What Boyd?” Derek asked, not looking back at the surprisingly intelligent Beta. His wolves continuously impressed him, Isaac with his control, Erica with her ferocity, but Boyd impressed has impressed him with his quick wit. Not what he’d expected when he recruited him.
“I was wondering about the lavender. Why you noticed that.” His voice was low, although odds were if Isaac and Erica cared, they’d hear. “On Stiles.”
“I know what lavender you’re talking about Boyd,” Derek grumbled, but didn’t quite answer the question right away. “I noticed it was different. That’s all. I notice when Erica changes her shampoo, figured it was something like that.”
Boyd didn’t buy that answer, yet couldn’t prove outright that Derek was lying and Derek could sense his disbelief. Thankfully, while his wolves were good at sniffing out lies from each other and say, Stiles, they weren’t very good at determining when he was lying just yet. Having been raised wolf had a few advantages. It also helped that it was only a half lie. Before it hadn’t been anything more than noticing something was different on a human he’d found himself, for lack of a better term, attached to. Maybe Stiles ran out of one kind of soap and tried another, or bought the wrong kind of deodorant, or some sort of failed air freshener at his house. Only now, now that Derek realized it had been the lingering scent of a girl, it changed how he felt about it and the statement became more of a lie.
“Was it before or after the tattoo?” Boyd asked and Derek made a face, relived his back was to Boyd.
“Same time.” Stiles had been extra twitchy that week, patting at the space where his new ink was, probably because it itched as healed. And because he knew his ass was grass the moment his father found out about it. “Probably as a result of her.” Stiles had stuck to a story that it was a drunken idea. Apparently it was more than just alcohol and a poor self-esteem that motivated him. Which changed things as well, more pointedly, what it had meant in the first place.
“We thought…thought you’d marked him. As…yours.” Which no one had fought. They’d just accepted. Derek knew they’d just gone with it, assuming he knew best what he wanted for himself and he was completely fine with letting them believe that. He had started to believe it.
“I know. I didn’t. That was him.”
“He marked himself?”
Yes. Or so Derek had thought. He’d hoped that even unconsciously, Stiles had figured it out, had gone for that and picked a mark that meant so much to Derek, making him pack, making him his. The attempt to prove how tough he was? That was endearing. Unnecessary, but endearing. That he did it in some attempt to prove his worth to some girl, some girl he slept with? That was going to keep Derek awake at night. Derek shook his head. “He didn’t know what he was doing. Just a stupid mistake. Let it go.”
“Are you going to let it go?”
“Let it go Boyd. We have bigger issues to deal with.” A direct avoidance of the question because Boyd was right, he wasn’t going to let it go. He was focused enough, angry enough, to deal with the issue at hand, but odds were in favor of him brooding more, just like he was now, in the coming days. At least now there was the chance of ripping something to shreds that kept him focused and not completely locked inside himself.
He could hear Stiles’ jeep; it was still on the edge of the property but it was close enough that the boys would start to walk the rest of the way to the house. “They’ll be here soon. Then we hunt demons.”
beta'd by the awesome thatfilmgirl !
Stiles wasn’t really on board with this plan because while the others had the fantastic extra bit of supernatural backing them up? Stiles didn’t. He was actually kind of fine with being left at the house, but apparently that was unacceptable in Derek’s mind and he was dragging Stiles with them. Safety was in numbers and right now, no one was left alone. Sure Stiles felt safer with the pack there, but what if something happened to them? Was Derek seriously not joking about the part where he wouldn’t get hurt?
There was something impressive though at watching the wolves find their way through the dark tracking the demon they were looking for. Though once they did find it? Stiles was pretty sure anyone could have. The area of woods it was in was ransacked, and he guessed that it had probably made a mess getting there.
It didn’t help that what he’d hoped for was one Rakashasa. One. It would seem that that wasn’t his luck and it turned out to be three. Erica and Jackson had lunged at the first, just as two more came crashing through the tree line. Stiles was stumbling back just as a gun shot rang out and he swore something went whizzing past his head. How close was he to just dying right there? See why he wanted to stay at the house? There were demons and hunters here.
As the fight started to break out, Stiles fell farther back watching the wolves jump into the fray, watching the hunters try and help. When the first fell, Stiles saw it as a relief, something that gave him a feeling like they might make it out of things. That no one would die tonight.
There was a sickening sound, something like ripping, followed by a howl of pain from Erica, which had him taking back that feeling of regret and tasting something more like bile in the back of his throat. Bad. Very bad.
“Go home Hale,” Chris Argent growled firing his crossbow towards Derek, who was trying to pull an injured Erica out of the fray. It sunk into his side and Stiles watched in utter horror as Derek doubled over with a howl of pain. Half stumbling over himself he ran towards Derek, trying to block him from Argent’s bow. Derek was lucky the hit didn’t ring true and kill him with the first shot. The man wasn’t shooting him out of anything other than revenge, even with his bullshit pretense of being more equipped to handle this, but now it was Stiles in some moment of stupid bravery, getting in the way, like it might keep him from getting shot again. Which was stupid considering Derek would heal from a shot and Stiles would likely die.
It was lucky for him that Derek realized that because Stiles’ mind was in ‘protect Derek’ mode and it was Derek that wound up shoving him towards Erica instead. “Get her out of here,” he demanded, hands on Stiles’ shoulders, eyes red and set on his. “Get her help.” Stiles’ mouth opened twice but he couldn’t make real words work and wound up nodding. It wasn’t until Derek let go of him that he was able to speak again. “Be careful!” he called after the Alpha who’d run into the mess of things again and Stiles had to wonder if he’d even heard him.
beta'd by the amazing thatfilmgirl!!!
She was bleeding. Not like a little bleeding, like, spend five days trying to get it out of the jeep, throw away the clothes Stiles has on now sort of bleeding. Something in the Rakasha’s claws was keeping her from healing quickly and the blood was starting to get everywhere, but he was getting her out of there. Just as instructed, because face it he was the only one who could be missed from the fight against a pack of demons to make sure Erica didn’t die. Which he really hoped she wouldn’t do. Stiles was in no way capable of handling her dying. Her dying would suck a level beyond royally and while he tried to come up with a great adjective, Erica shifted in the seat so her head was essentially in his lap and she was moaning in pain into his stomach. Seriously why him again?
The vet’s office wasn’t far away, thank god, because her curled against him like that made it hard to drive and worse to focus, which was very much what he needed to do right now. Focus. Get her where she needed to go and completely ignore how something smelled wrong, even to him and she was saying his name over and over again.
Getting her out of the Jeep had taken a new skill in maneuvering, but eventually he got her out. There was no way she could stand on her own Stiles found himself picking her up to carry her, thanking everything that without her crazy heels she was smaller than him. She was shaking, moaning still, but once he had her up in his arms, her face pressed against his neck, breathing heavily there, both in and out. Jesus Christ she was all but lapping up his scent wasn’t she? He’d read about that, in his research, how scent, how this kind of touch was so important to a wolf. Fantastic. “If you lick me, you can walk in on your own,” he told her but she didn’t laugh. No she was really bad off if she wasn’t even laughing. Or purposefully licking him, just to piss him off. That was enough to scare him.
Once she was inside he had her on the table, watching the good doctor move around to try and figure out what was wrong, why she wasn’t healing and just what was in her wounds that needed to be cleaned out. Stiles took a step back, more than fine with being out of the way after babbling about what had been in the woods, but a half clawed hand caught his arm. “No,” she murmured. “Don’t leave me.” Of course she would say that. She had confessed that crush on him and while nothing happened since, she sure had a habit of making him uncomfortable and he had a habit of feeling like he owed her something.
“Uh sure.” He tried to loosen her grip on his arm, shifting to hold her hand and try and brush her hair back off her face. The soft sigh she gave at the touch shocked him, considering he’d thought about that moment brushing a girl’s hair moment getting that kind of reaction, but Stiles tried really, really hard not to read into it. She was half dead. She was a wolf. She’d get over this when the doc patched her up and it wouldn’t be any different then petting a scared animal. This was not the foundation of a relationship that he was pretty sure neither of them wanted.
Stiles watched the veterinarian’s hands move, and he felt Erica react to everything he did. When he cleaned up the worse of the gashes, she cried out, squeezing Stiles’ arm so hard she almost broke it, until the vet gave her something that knocked her out completely. Despite knowing better, panic coursed through Stiles until he saw her chest rise and fall. How many times did have to watch this happen to her? He was definitely not okay with it. And then, without a conscious person to comfort, Stiles was in the way and ushered out of it, and before he found himself in a back room to wait. He slid down the wall, burying his head in his hands to wait, relieved Erica wasn’t screaming. Things weren’t right. They weren’t. They needed to be but it was as if they refused to be. Where was Derek? How bad were the others hurt?
It was another hour before the other wolves arrived. The worst of their injuries were healing, including a nasty gash across Isaac’s face, but Boyd needed something pulled out of his arm and Derek still had an arrowhead sticking out of his side. Everyone was healing slower than before because of the poisoned claws, but all three demons were dead.
Derek, despite his own injuries, was true to his alpha status, checking on Erica who was healing now and had been given something to help her sleep. That left him breathing easier until he realized someone was missing. Breaking away from the group he went to look for Stiles, angry that he wasn’t where he could be seen. It didn’t take long to follow the boy’s scent, something oddly like grass and pine needles, but it was tainted with the coppery tinge of blood. Anger shifted to fury and the moment he found Stiles, Derek was dragging him off his feet, pinning him against the wall with one arm across his chest.
Stiles was sputtering, not expecting such a forceful movement that would more than one bruise on his back. “What the hell?” he asked, head back against the wall as he struggled and winced when Derek just pushed harder.
“Are you hurt?” It was a growling demand, very close to Stiles’ face and it left the younger boy stumbling over his words again. The smell of fear filled the small amount of air between them, but then it was tinged with something else, something similar to Stiles’ normal scent, but more heightened, more aware. Even here Stiles felt it. And Derek felt it too, an ache in his stomach that he wasn’t ready to deal with right now. Everything he thought he knew about what was going on between them had changed and this was hardly the time or place to get caught up in it.
“Not until you shoved me into a wall and probably broke my spine,” Stiles managed, breathing shallow and heart racing. He spotted something different in Derek’s eyes though, something that was far more than the evident anger and as a result he let the sarcasm drop for just a breath. “It’s Erica’s blood. She’s okay. I’m okay.”
Derek kept him pinned there for a moment longer then let him go, not worried that Stiles’ legs didn’t properly catch him on the way down. “You smell like her,” Derek pointed out as that scent surfaced through the blood and the other weird scents coming off of Stiles that were all his own.
“Uh yeah, she was…nuzzling me? I think that’s the word. I guess I make her feel safe or she was really out of it and thought I was you.”
“Why would she think you were me?”
Stiles paled and shrugged, finding his feet, but staying against the wall. “You made her hot as hell. I imagined that was for your own purposes as well? If you were just building an army you’d find some more Boyds, but you pick this hot chic and I was reading about werewolf mating so that makes sense as far as what you might need.”
“Shut up,” Derek ordered, which stunned Stiles into silence. “That’s not why I gave her the bite. I was helping her. It’s not what you’re thinking. She knew it was you. You and I don’t smell the same.”
Stiles stared for a moment longer then wound up ducking his head so he wouldn’t have to make eye contact. How could he make eye contact with Derek who was essentially glaring at him the same way he had before, that Stiles was so not supposed to bring that up ever again and very, very wrong? “Right okay. She’s gonna be fine though. You don’t need to worry.”
“I’m not. I knew you’d get her here.” In fact, Derek hadn’t been worried until he was sure Stiles was missing. That was what had left him worried. Because he’s human. That was the answer for it. Stiles could die a lot easier than the rest of them. It was cause for being concerned, and certainly not anything else that could be related to the ache he was feeling that was definitely not physical.
“You need new clothes,” he ordered again, looking back at Stiles who nodded. “Go home. She’ll be fine.”
When Stiles didn’t move right away Derek reached out to touch his head, similar to how he had in his room. “Go. Straight home, text me when you get there. Get some sleep I’ll check on you later.”
Stiles didn’t know what to do about that touch, or that it made him want more, or that everything that had just happened had him shaking, worse than when he was scared out of his mind that Erica was going to die on him. While a constant flow of words were his normal state, he couldn’t find a thing to say and wound up just nodding, half holding on to the wall as he walked to away to keep from doubling back and resting his forehead against Derek’s shoulder. Like that might feel better.
un-beta'd but I am a mean proof reader. hah. enjoy
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Stiles went home like directed. And then he’d stood in the driveway staring at his stained jeep for at least ten minutes. He’d started trying to clean it up, but with no real luck. Nope, the passenger seat was going to have a bloodstain he’d have to try and explain away for forever.
By the time he gave up he thought he was exhausted. He did. And then he was upstairs, the clothes he’d been wearing in the trash and he wasn’t sleeping. With his Dad not being home he settled for just a clean t-shirt over his gym shorts, not caring if the tattoo on his arm was visible because there was no one to hide it from. Instead of being in his bed he was at his desk, back to doing research again, rereading everything he’d ever compiled on werewolves. Erica’s nuzzling and Derek’s comments on her not being his mate had left him curious and before he knew it he’d been at it for most of the night.
“You’ve been up all night,” a voice behind him said and Stiles jolted out of his skin, turning around in his chair to see a less than happy Derek glaring at him from just inside the window.
“And you’re fucking sneaking in my room again. If I was asleep you’d be creepy watching me do that too huh?” Stiles quipped and all he got was a glare in response.
There! Stiles had it, the upper hand with Derek Hale of all people and with no sleep. Finally. He almost smiled, truly pleased with himself, but then Derek narrowed his eyes more and Stiles found himself rolling back in his chair a little.
“Why don’t you just fucking listen?” Derek demanded loudly. “And then maybe, just maybe do as your fucking told?”
Stiles had no idea where the anger was coming from and for the life of him he wasn’t sure how to react to what was going on at all. “I…You can’t boss me around. I’m not pack.” That was probably poking the wolf with a stick, but it was the first thing that came to mind as a result of reading for hours about just that, werewolves and their packs.
Derek pounced faster than Stiles could have reacted, grabbing the younger boy’s arm and dragging him out of his chair, seemingly oblivious to the panicked noise that Stiles let out. “Then why the hell do you have this?” Derek’s voice was essentially a growl, his hand turning to make the tattoo on Stiles’ arm visible, poking it. “Do you, with all your reading, all your research, all your knowledge, really have no idea what this means? What I see when I see it?”
Stiles was flustered, struggling with what that he wanted to say, needed to say, but he couldn’t actually put together. He had read about something similar, a meaning, but he couldn’t give voice to the words. They hung too heavy in his mind. Out of fear or some sort of self-preservation he found himself trying to pull his arm away but Derek just gripped him harder. “Pack? Does it mean I’m pack?” It could mean something else as well, something Stiles had read just before getting man handled by an angry werewolf, but he couldn’t say it. There was no way it was true.
Derek let out an angry breath, something that was too harsh to be a sigh, but not an actual noise. “More than pack you moron. It’s means you’re mine. I see that on your arm, I know it’s there and I see something that belongs to me. You marked yourself as mine you idiot. This,” he said shaking Stiles’ arm. “This made everyone think you were mine. Everyone. And you did it to impress some stupid girl.” Derek tossed Stiles back towards his bed, not really caring if he made it there or not. “What were you thinking?”
Stiles stared at Derek, eyes wider than Derek actually thought they were capable of getting and suddenly that other smell was there, in the room, coming off of Stiles and it was making it harder for Derek to think. How did he just not know what he was feeling? He wasn’t that stupid.
Stiles continued to stare at him for a moment longer gripping the sheets from where he’d awkwardly fallen on the bed. “Yours? You thought…you didn’t say anything before. I’ve had it for a while. You could have…it’s because you just found out about Annaelise.” Stiles dropped his eyes from Derek’s to the tattoo on his arm, touching the edge of it a little, not surprised to see the red handprint starting to surface on his skin. “Is that what you wanted? Me?”
The scent poured off of Stiles, giving the room a heady feel that Derek was sure Stiles didn’t fully realize he was even doing it, but he had to realize he was doing something. It took a long moment for Derek to get his head under control, the wolf wanting to act out on feelings, not logical thought and right now he needed to be logical. “I’m fucking here aren’t I? I didn’t tell the others they were wrong when they assumed as much.” He ran a hand over his face and put space between them, needing to breath something that wasn’t laden with Stiles. “I didn’t think you were that stupid. Not aware maybe, but not completely dense. But apparently you are an idiot.” Every word was through gritted teeth as Derek struggled to actually say something rather than act. Stiles was the talker, not Derek, though right now he was doing nothing more than staring at Derek blankly.
Derek couldn’t breathe, not with that scent filling the room. It had never been this bad before and if he wasn’t careful he was going to do something that obviously wasn’t as wanted as he’d hoped. That was the problem, he’d hoped that eventually Stiles would figure it out; he’d come around, not just stare at him like he was insane. “I’m going.“
Stiles had no idea what was really going on, but he wasn’t about to let Derek leave. As Derek went towards the window he managed to scramble to his feet reaching for his arm, as if someone his size could slow down a force like Derek. “No. Don’t,” he said tugging at the leather of Derek’s jacket, trying to draw him away from the window. “Why didn’t you tell them they were wrong? Did they ask? Everyone thinks we’re…” That word was too heavy and Stiles had an urge to sit down again as if the actual weight of it had just been tied around his neck.
Derek slowed, turning back to Stiles and trying hard not to breathe in everything that seemed to swirl around the guy. “Why would I? They didn’t ask, until they found out about her.” And because Derek had been obviously brooding as a result. He closed his eyes; really not able to think when Stiles smelled so much like Erica mixed with the arousal. It had him itching to re-mark him, change the scent back to something that wasn’t her. The growl that slipped out was low, almost quiet, but it was enough to have Stiles backing away. “They think you’re marked,” Derek said when he looked up again. “Which you aren’t. I know better now.” He took a step back towards the window. Leaving, leaving now was a good idea.
“What if I wanted to be?”
Derek looked back at Stiles who was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he studied the floor under his bare feet instead of Derek. He looked smaller than normal without his collection of jackets and shirts, but where others might have assumed him frail, Derek spotted the lean muscle from years of lacrosse. He was no powerhouse, but Stiles Stillinski wasn’t a shrimp either. “Do you?” Derek asked.
One shoulder raised in a shrug that seemed casual, but the way that Stiles’ heart rate jumped had Derek assuming he wasn’t feeling that way. “When you got shot tonight, all I could think about was protecting you. More than Erica, more than Scott. You. I was willing to block the next one and we know I won’t heal from it. I haven’t…haven’t been that invested in someone beyond maybe my dad and Scott ever, but this was different from that too.” Stiles took a shaking breath and tapped his feet a few times before running his hand over his head, the same way Derek had. “I know I’m not pack. And I don’t really want to be a werewolf, because I don’t need it. I’m strong enough on my own, or I’d like to be and I try to be. I’m not going to be Jackson or Scott because I’m not, but pack, pack would be good because otherwise I’m kind of a loner. Not like a wallflower loner, but like a doesn’t have a lot of good friends beyond the one and he seems to only care about his girlfriend…” Stiles was on a roll, straight babbling, telling Derek things he barely let himself think with no real end to the monologue in sight.
“Shut up,” Derek demanded, moving in closer, eyes fixed on Stiles even if the guy was still staring at his feet. For once though, Derek was granted with Stiles doing as he was told and actually shutting up, biting at his lip as if it might stop the torrent of words. That left Derek softening, just ever so slightly before letting out another hot breath. “You are pack,” he told Stiles, echoing the movement of brushing his fingers across his head. “And mine.” If Stiles wanted to belong somewhere, Derek was more than fine with giving it to him.
It was as if the tension slipped from Stiles’ shoulders and he glanced up at Derek, brown eyes as wide as ever, before closing the distance between them, pressing his head into Derek’s shoulder. Derek hesitated for a moment, confused as to what exactly needed to be done, but eventually he rested his hand against the back of Stiles’ neck.
Without much thought Stiles was reaching forward, arms around Derek’s upper body as he fought to catch his breath. “I was scared. For you, the others, just plain scared. And I feel stupid admitting that.”
“I was too. And I panicked when I thought you were lost,” Derek said, resting his cheek against Stiles’ head as he returned the hug. “Fear is normal you know. And helpful. Keeps you alert, reminds you what’s important. It’s not a bad thing provided you don’t let it take over.” Stiles nodded against his shoulder and Derek took another deep breath. “You need to sleep Stiles,” he commanded, though it was as close to gentle as Derek got. He pulled back from the hug, untangling himself from Stiles’ arms nodding towards the bed.
Stiles let Derek pull back, but held fast to his shirt with one hand. “So do you,” he pointed out and a ghost of a smile drifted across Derek’s lips. That was how it was going to be, with Stiles not being a Beta to his Alpha. He’d take orders when he thought he should, and he’d challenge them as well. And when he wanted something, Stiles was going to be able to make his own demands, something the others couldn’t or wouldn’t. It was different from what Derek thought he wanted, but when Stiles tugged him closer towards the bed, Derek realized he’d been wrong. Being challenged was fine, better for him even. It made Derek feel much less isolated, a feeling that had come up since becoming Alpha. Stiles wasn’t the only one who needed someone to belong to.
Shaking his head at himself he slipped out of his jacket and tossed it on the chair before following after Stiles. There was no way he was leaving now, not with the wolf in him craving contact, craving taking advantage of something that was his. The craving was so much that when he laid down he couldn’t even be annoyed with the way Stiles curled into his back before he could toe out of his shoes. Rolling over he let Stiles curl against his chest before resting his chin Stile’s head. “Sleep,” he ordered again, closing his eyes before touching Stiles’ hair again.
Cool fingers ran against exposed skin in the hole the arrow had put in his shirt. The spot was healed since the arrow had been removed, though the bloody stain was still there. “M’fine Stiles,” Derek pointed out, words muffled against Stiles’ hair.
“I know.” Stiles' hand stilled, but it stayed close, gripping the shirt to keep from gripping Derek directly. “Are we at least safe now?” he asked.
Derek’s hand against the back of Stiles’ neck was firmer than the other touches, something solid and reassuring. “For now,” he murmured. “Sleep.”
Stiles’ nod was just a slight change in the angle of his head against Derek’s chest before he let himself really relax. Derek managed to stay awake until his breathing evened out completely before falling asleep himself.
I might come back to this at some point, explore their cannon, but for now, I like this as the end.
If you can't wait for more, I'm working on a prompt box worth of one shots and the cannon / universe will likely parallel with this one, pull from it, etc. My friend thatfilmgirl is writing her own stuff in the series too and it's pretty great. check it out here!!