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Cover Up Your Bruises

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Stiles pushed the door to Derek’s loft open with his foot, groceries in hand. He was followed by Isaac and Scott who had the substantial amount of groceries in their arms. Scott closed the door behind them with his elbow and Isaac followed after Stiles like a puppy into the kitchen.                                                              

“Guys, will you put this stuff up for me? I’m gonna go find Derek. Oh, but leave the brownie stuff out,” Stiles said, a teasing tone in his voice. Both Isaac and Scott fist pumped at that.


 

 

 

Stiles opened the door to Derek’s room and peered in, seeing Derek sitting on the side of his bed holding a photo. Stiles opened the door all the way and walked in quietly. Derek finally acknowledged him once he was in front of him. Stiles lent down, face inches away from Derek’s.

 

“Hey,” he said simply and pressed his lips to Derek’s. Derek kissed back softly and pulled away.

 

“Hey,” he replied, gazing at Stiles for a moment and then looking back down at the photograph in his hands. Stiles furrowed his brow.

 

“You okay? Who’s that?” he asked. Derek looked up at him and sighed.

 

“It’s uh, Laura. Today’s her birthday,” Derek whispered. Stiles frowned and crouched down to be on Derek’s level.

 

“Oh - I’m sorry Derek,” he said sincerely and rested his hand on the wolf’s knee and stroked over it lightly with his thumb.

 

Derek didn’t reply, he just frowned some more and sighed again.

 

 “Can I see her?” Stiles asked.

 

“No,” Derek answered after a moment and moved to put the photo away in the bedside drawer. Stiles’ fingertips brushed Derek’s knuckles trying to stop him from putting the photo away. Derek needed to know he could confide in him. They were engaged after all.

 

“Derek, please. I just want to see her. I’ve never seen her,” Stiles pleaded and his hand slightly reached for the picture.

 

Derek caught Stiles’ wrist and gripped tight. His human nails dragged roughly against Stiles’ pale skin, leaving angry red marks. Stiles whimpered but Derek gripped tighter.

 

“D-Derek stop, you’re, you’re hurting me, don’t-,” Stiles breathed out in a nervous panic while Derek twisted his wrist.

 

Tears came to Stiles’ eyes.  Mainly because of the pain, but also because he didn’t understand. He hadn’t been hurt by Derek since before college. Since before they were dating. Derek had become so gentle with him. Now, he wasn’t sure what was happening.

 

“Derek, please this isn’t you,” Stiles said and his voice hitched. He looked up at Derek’s eyes and expected to see his eyes changed. Nothing was changed. He had a scowl on his face and his eyes were the same grayish color.

 

Now Stiles was really scared. Terrified.

 

This was his Derek doing this to him.

 


 

 

Stiles shakily walked down the stairs and wiped his eyes. He pulled his hoodie sleeves down all the way and put a smile on.

 

“Pull yourself together, Stiles,” Derek had growled before he had released Stiles’ wrist.

 

“So, who wants brownies?” He asked Scott and Isaac cheerfully once he got into the kitchen.

 


 

 

As soon as Stiles got back from upstairs, Isaac knew something was off. He could smell it and he shot Scott a look.

 

Scott returned one that said something along the lines of, “don’t meddle in their relationship Isaac.”

 

But there was something terrifyingly familiar about the way Stiles looked, how he was holding himself.  Isaac felt like he was going to throw up. He hoped that it wasn’t what he thought it was.

 


 

 

 

Scott left after eating almost all the brownies they made. Isaac was not happy with him at all. He was being one shitty best friend to Stiles right now. Couldn’t he sense something was wrong? Maybe it was just Isaac that could sense it.

 

Which made him all the more scared for Stiles. He couldn’t handle this alone if it’s what he thought was happening.

 


 

 

Stiles tip toed up the stairs nervously. He was worried Derek would still be angry and his stomach churned. He reached the door and calmly opened it.

 

Derek was in the same position he was in when he left, he had a book open on his lap and his brow was crinkled.

 

“Derek?”  Stiles croaked out. Derek looked up at him and closed his book. He stood up and grabbed Stiles’ waist and pulled Stiles close to him.

 

“Derek, don’t,” Stiles said. He tried to push away but Derek had a bruising hold on his hips.

 

Derek tried to lean in for a kiss and Stiles turned his head.

 

No. What the fuck is your deal Derek? What the hell happened earlier today,” Stiles whispered. Knowing Isaac was asleep downstairs he didn’t dare yell.

 

“I don’t want to talk about it Stiles,” Derek growled in return and raked his fingers down Stiles’ hip bone.

 

“W-well too bad because-, “Stiles said.

 

“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Derek interrupted and pushed Stiles back.

 

Before he knew what was happening Derek’s hand was raised and then Stiles’ face was stinging.

 

Stiles forced himself not to yell out in pain as he clutched his right cheek.  Tears spilled down his cheeks and he bit his lip. It burned and he dropped to his knees in front of Derek.

 

“Why are you,” he said and paused, taking in a breath.  More tears streaked his face, running down his throbbing cheek.

 

“Why are you doing this Derek?” He sobbed out. He winced as Derek tilted his head up by his hair. He gazed down at him with a scowl on his face.

 

“You’re pitiful Stiles. Human. Soft. Worthless.” He hissed and released Stiles. His words made Stiles’ heart clench and they hurt even worse than a slap. Stiles scooted away from Derek until his back hit the doorframe. His breathing was uneven, like he couldn’t catch his breath. He panicked when Derek approached him and coiled into himself.  Derek leaned down and growled into his ear.

 

“Go put some ice on that and don’t wake Isaac up.”

 

Stiles nodded.

 


 

 

 

Stiles pulled open the freezer and rummaged around for an ice pack.

 

“Stiles?”

 

Stiles nearly screamed and he turned around. It was Isaac. He stepped into the light of the freezer, brow furrowed in concern.

 

“Stiles, what’s going on?” He asked, “What’s wrong?” Isaac gnawed on his lower lip. Stiles noticed it was already cut open. Isaac was worried.

 

Stiles closed the freezer and darkness surrounded them both. He thanked it silently because he knew his cheek was a bright red.

 

“Nothing Isaac, everything is fine,” he murmured and placed his hand on Isaac’s cheek, the motherly instinct to protect him curling in his gut. He brought Isaac’s face down to meet his and kissed him on the forehead.

 

“Go back to sleep, Isaac,” he whispered and added a silent ‘it’ll be okay.’

 


 

Stiles crept back into their bedroom and stumbled through the now dark room. Derek was asleep and he crawled into their bed, staying as far away from the werewolf as possible.

 

Derek just reached over and pulled him flush to his chest.  His strong arms locking Stiles’ own to his chest.

 

Stiles knew he was trapped and his breath caught in his throat.

 

Derek’s touch burned him and he felt like he was suffocating. Stiles closed his eyes and a sob ran through his body.

 

Go to sleep. Maybe this is a bad dream. Maybe you’ll wake up and this didn’t happen at all and you won’t be afraid of your own fiancé.

 

Stiles fell asleep in the company of his unreasonably hopeful thoughts.