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Into The Wild

Chapter Text

Fear. That's the only word I could use to describe it. Hearing the scraping against the metal gates, the growling heard through the gaps under the fence, the howls that escaped their bodies after a successful kill. That's how we lived our lives. Scared, alone, and frightened, just waiting for the day all of this would stop, but we know it never will.

It all happened so fast, on day one, they took over all the major cities, on day two, the highways, and by day three, they were making their way to the smaller areas of the world, slowly taking over the place that humans called home, the place where we always thought we were on the top of the food chain.

Man, we were wrong.

I can remember the day they took over, perfectly, as if it was only a few days ago. I was getting ready for school, finishing my math homework at the kitchen table as my little brother was eating his cereal happily, smile on his face as he used a spoon too big for his four-year-old mouth to shovel spoonfuls of the sugary, fruity circles into his mouth, he cheeks were puffing out when he would turn to me and smile before chewing and eventually swallowing the food. My mom was preparing a coffee for my dad as he hurriedly walked down the stairs to not be late for work. I remember, as soon as my dad took his first sip of his coffee as my mom fixed his tie and Addie was giggling joyfully as our dog jumped up to eat from his bowl of cereal, we heard the distant sounds of screaming.

Addie stopping giggling, my mother stopped fretting over my father's uniform, and my father and I walked over to the windows, carefully, and moved back the curtains.

It was chaos, people were running back and forth across the streets, people were getting attacked by these giant beasts and their throats were being ripped out before the animals on top of them ran off to find another victim. It was hard to see, the city lights keeping the streets bright. I stared in horror, as a woman was knocked down in front of our house, the black wolf on top of her taking one slash across her chest and one bite, her whole face fitting into its mouth before it bit down, holding onto her until she stopped squirming. It released her, and then looked up, letting out a deep howl before it stopped, standing still and then it turned, looking me straight into the eyes and growling.

The curtain in front of me was jerked shut and I turned to see my father was staring at me, a pistol in one hand as he handed the other one to me, Addie in my mother's arms as he wailed and cried, terrified of the noises that were coming from outside.

"Look, Stiles." My father said, drawing my attention to him. "Safety on," He said, flipping a switch up. "And safety off." This time he flipped the switch down before flipping it back up. "All you have to do is aim, and squeeze." He said, demonstrating holding the weapon. "And only put your finger on the trigger when you're about to shoot, not before, got it?" He asked, handing me the pistol back before he looked at my mother. "Cheryll, take the kids down to the basement." My father said as he walked to the front door and locked it before he walked over to the windows and made sure they were locked as well.

"But dad," I started, I looked at my mother as her hand gripped my arm before I turned to look at my father. "You're going to come down there, too, right?" I asked, not even bothering to mask the fear that I know was showing in my eyes and clouding my voice in a deep velvet. He looked back at me and gave me a smile.

"Of course, honey." He whispered, and I let my mother drag me away to the basement. Addie had let out a small whine and called our dogs name, worried until the Golden Retriever popped up and followed us down the steps and into the basement. We sat in silence, my mother holding Addie while I aimed the gun at the basement door, hoping and praying that my father would walk through.

There was a crash that came from upstairs, glass shattering and falling on the floor followed by a rapid succession of steps before a shot rang out and a thud. My mother and Addie jumped in fright, Chance has sat up and growled lightly at the door, my mother had to put her hand over my brother's mouth as small sobs started to escape his lips. I craned my head closer to the door as I hoped to catch any movement, any sound, anything behind the door that would signal my father was still alive.

The doorknob began to rattle, rapid and forceful until the door flung open, which caused a small yelp to escape my mother's mouth as she covered my brother in fright.

"Dad," I whispered once I was able to make out the figure in the dark. He was limping, staggering down the stairs as he held a gaping wound on his side. I ran up to him and quickly put his arm over my shoulder. I whipped my arm around behind me wildly hoping to catch the lock on the door, and once I did I locked it swiftly before I helped my father down the stairs.

I laid him down beside my mother and went to find something to clean the gash on his side, and I found rubbing alcohol and an old shirt before I ran back over to him. I lifted his shirt and looked at his injured side, deep and red and angry as the blood pooled from it. I got the alcohol and poured it over the wound, I winced as my dad hissed and cried out into my mother's lap.

"Mom, does dad still have his old fishing supplies down here?" I asked her, voice wavering as I look up into her tear-filled eyes, She nodded her head and pointed with shaking fingers to the corner of the basement. I ran over there and found the fishing kit before I grabbed it and ran back over to my father. I grabbed the old shirt and held it up to my dads face. "I need you to bite down on this dad," I whispered, and he nodded before he grabbed the shirt and stuffed it in his mouth.
I grabbed a large hook out of the kit and grabbed thick fishing line before I doused my hands in the rubbing alcohol and ran it over the hook and the line. I cut off some of the line and quickly threaded it through the hook before I turned around to my dad.

"Are you ready?' I asked as I look at my dad in the eyes and watched him give me a nod. I took a deep breath and stuck the needle through his side as I tried to cut out the sound of the scream that came out muffled behind his lips. Over and over, I drove the needle through his side until his wound was fully sealed, knotting the end of the line and taking a deep breath. I looked over at my father to watch as he whimpered and my mother held a crying boy in her arms as she carded her fingers through my father's hair as she held back tears of her own.




For four days, we heard the creatures rummaging around upstairs and outside as we desperately tried to stay calm and quiet every time we heard one close. We ate the food my mother canned and stored in the basement and drank from the faucet that was built into the basement before we bought the house.

When my had father had deemed it safe enough for us to leave, he had each of us pack a bag while he gathered the ammo he had for his two guns.

"Why are we having to leave?" Addie asked, playing with his Superman toy as I put his shoes on for him.

"Because there are bad things out there, Addie, and we can't stay," I said as I tied the strings on his shoes before I looked back up at him and made sure his coat was secure.

"Like the thing that hurt daddy?" He whispered, lowering his Superman as he looked at me with sad eyes.

"Yes, just like the thing that hurt daddy," I whispered as I stood up and threw my bag on my shoulder. Addie already had his on so I held out my hand and looked down at him. "It's time to go, bubby." Addie grabbed my hand and we walked down the hallway together, once again calling out to chance to have him follow, meeting my mom and dad in the living room.

"This is yours, Stiles." My father said, handing me a wooden baseball bat. It was covered in barbed wire and had nails sticking out from it with electrical tape at the bottom to act as a grip on the handle. "Only use the pistol if you have to, understand?" He asked, and I nodded my head in return. "Alright, the car will draw too much noise, so we're going on foot. We're going to my parent's cabin in South Lake, so it's going to be about a weeks journey. Your mother and I got everything prepared, are you guys ready to go?" He asked as he looked around as we all nodded our heads. "Alright, let's go."

When we left the house the streets were covered in dead bodies and blood, and I had to pick Addie up and put his hood over his eyes so his view would be blocked from seeing the gruesome mess that littered the streets.




Three days into the journey, my mother and father were sat by the fire while I laid with Addie in a sleeping bag with Chance at our feet. I ran my fingers through his hair as I heard the soft whisps coming out from between his lips, showing me that he was asleep.

My parents were talking quietly between themselves, the sound of their voices drifting over to where I was, but their words indistinguishable. I looked up at the stars as I watched them flicker and blink overhead as I drew in a deep breath, I could taste the dirt and the trees that surrounded me on the tip of my tongue, relaxing at the feeling of the cool air that surrounded me.

I noticed my parents had stopped talking, and before I could look up, there was a hand covering my mouth and I instantly panicked.

"It's okay honey." My mother whispered, calming me down. "There's something in the woods. So I need you to do what we talked about, okay?" She asked, releasing her hand from my mouth when I gave her a nod. She walked back over to the campfire and I gently woke Addie up, telling him what was going on and tried to not let the panic that I was feeling slowly suffocate me show. I picked him up and slowly put him on the branch above us. I pushed his feet when he got high enough so he was a few branches above me before I started to climb the tree behind him, repeating the process of pushing him up and then following after him until we were several feet up in the tree.

"What about Chance?" Addie whined as he looked around frantically for the canine and wiggled in my arms.

"He'll be okay, he's a smart dog, bub," I replied, thankful that Addie had stopped moving. I looked around and I couldn't see my parents, but I heard a shot ring out within the distance, and the fear within me perked up as I covered Addie's ears and sheltered his eyes as I gently rocked him back and forth as whimpers started coming out of his mouth.

A few seconds later, another shot rang out and a scream followed, and I could feel my eyes glisten with tears threatening to fall, worried for my parents and what was happening.

Not long after, I heard footsteps and I prayed that it's one, if not both, of my parents. The hope quickly died when I saw one of those creatures walking up to the sleeping bag Addie and I were previously lying in just moments before. I tried to muffle the sounds that came out of Addie so the thing wouldn't hear. I watched as it lifted its nose in the air and sniffed around before its eyes locked onto mine. I could see the blood covering its mouth and flowing all the way down to its chest and front paws, and instantly, I knew my parents were dead.

Addie and I stayed in the tree all night, just to make sure that whatever killed our parents wasn't still there. When morning came, we both climbed out of the tree and packed up our bags before we continued towards our grandparent's cabin, where our parents wanted us to go.

"Where's mommy and daddy?" Addie asked as he tugged at my hand when we started to walk.

"We'll see them again, I promise, but they're not with us right now," I said. My voice wavered as I tightened my hold on his hand.

"Where did they go?" He asked as he moved his Superman toy around in the air and making soft swooshing sounds and he pretended Superman was flying around.

"They went out," I said, glad Addie didn't continue to question me on the disappearance of our parents as we continued on our journey.




Every night, Addie and I slept in a tree, hanging our backpacks on branches close to us before I tied a rope around each of us to prevent us from falling out of the trees. Most nights, however, I didn't sleep, worried that whatever attacked our parents was still out there.

"Chance!" Addie screamed, after the fifth night, as he ran towards a flash of golden fur.

"Addie!" I had called after him as I cursed to myself at how he ran off. A few seconds later, Addie returned with a tired look Chance beside him.

"I knew you were a smart dog," I whispered as I ruffled the fur on top of his head. I grabbed Addie's hand and we continued on our way.




After five days, Addie and I were walking through a clearing when three armed men walked up to us with their guns out.

"Don't move!" They shouted as they surrounded us and aimed their weapons at us. Fear had overtaken my body as I pulled Addie closer to me and looked up at the man in front of us.

"Who are you?" He asked, aim never wavering and a hardness behind his blue eyes.

"My name's Stiles, and this is Addie," I replied, my voice wavered and my hands shook as they held onto my baby brother as he held onto Chance. "We're headed to our grandparent's house, in Lake view."

The man lowered his gun slightly and gave me a once over.

"You're not one of those things, are you?" He questioned, looking at the other two men who were behind me and Addie before running a hand through his dark brown hair.

"No, God no, we're... we're just trying to get to our grandparent's house. One of those things... they... they... our parents." I stated. I lowered my voice to a whisper as my voice quivered. I looked back at the man in front of me and I saw the sympathy in his eyes and a small smile graced his face. He motioned to the men around us before lowering his gun.

"Well, you're not too far from Beacon Hills, son, around 50 miles from there. We have a place though, fully enclosed and full of people, even kids for the lil' one to play with." He said as he a step closer. "Why don't you come with us, and we'll show you around the place. If you don't want to stay, we won't force you to."

"Okay," I said as I took a step closer and followed him as he walked down the path. I decided that if it's a good place, a good place to make a home, we'll stay. I have to do what's best for Addie, and I know that a community of good people is what our parents would have wanted for us.

When we reached the place, the first thing that stood out to me was its walls, concrete of about eight feet and the rest about four or five feet of wood with platforms that people could walk on, men and women with guns stationed about every ten feet stretched all along the walls.

"Hey Tony, got a couple of strangers?" A man shouted at a post right beside the gates to enter the community. The gate had metal bars, the original gate, and had metal secured behind it so you couldn't see through. Above the fence, it read ‘Beacon Hills'.

"Yeah, found them in the woods. Poor things lost their parents. Do you know where Edith is?" He asked back, as the gates in front of us started to open.

"Yeah, she's in the field with some of the kids." The man shouted back and Tony, the man who found us in the woods nodded back before we walked through the gate.

On the other side, it looked completely different than the outside. There were mansions scattered across the place, with trees and colorful flowers that blotted your gaze with hues of red, yellow, and purple. You could hear the faint noise of a hammer against a nail, but most importantly, you could hear the sound of people. Women were chattering over a glass of water, children laughed in glee as they ran around an open section of grass off to the right. Men and women with guns holstered on their bodies laughed while talking in a circle. Hope filled my chest as I looked around at the place, imagined Addie making friends with the other kids here and being happy as I helped out around the place, hopefully being a nurse or something that helps the people here that come to me sick and injured.

"Edith, darlin'," Tony said as he walked up to a woman that looks close to his age, maybe late thirties or early forties, with dark blonde hair and a gentle face with blue eyes to match.

"Hey, honey." Edith greeted as she stepped up to Tony and gave him a kiss before she turned around to me and Addie.

"I found these two walking in the woods just a few miles from here, mind showing them where they can stay?" He asked as he motioned over to us and gave Edith a small smile.

"Of course, follow me." She said, motioning for us to follow before she walked away from Tony.

"I can see you've already met Tony," she started as she glanced back at us and gave us a smile.

"He's my husband, been married to that fool for almost 25 years." She let out a small laugh before she continued. "We had a daughter, but she passed when she was six from cancer, haven't been able to have another since, but we consider the kids of the neighborhood ours, everyone here is basically one big family." She took a deep exhale before she continued again. "What's y'all's name's, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I'm Stiles, and this is Addie," I repeated what I told her husband earlier. I could feel myself calm slightly in the presence of Edith, for the first time in what felt like forever. She made a thoughtful noise before she started talking again.

"How old are y'all?" She questioned. She gave us a warm smile as we come upon a house.

"I'm sixteen, and Addie is four," I answered as I looked up at the house that we've come to.

"Isobel would be sixteen, now." She stated softly before she looked up at the house and gave us a smile. "This is mine and Tony's place. I hope that okay." She said, her eyes showed the worry that lied behind them. When I nodded my head, her smile brightened and she motioned for us to follow her. The outside was beautiful, dark red brick with the front door and shingles painted black, along with the flowerpots that sat on their windowsills. We walked up the front steps and she led us into the house. The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. The walls were cream with various paintings and pictures hung up, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and double winding staircases that led upstairs on each side of the entry hall. She led us up the stairs and took a right down a hallway and led us to a door.

"This will your guys' room, unless you wish to have separate rooms?" She asked, and I shook my head in response before she continued. "There's a connected bathroom with running water, and the electricity is fully running. Dogs are kept in a desperate area, so if you'll let me, I'll show your dog where to go." I shook my head and stepped in front of Chance as she went to grab his collar. "Chance stays with us," I answered as I glared at her before she took a few steps back. Chance was the last reminder of our parents. "Alrighty, uh, I'll let you guys take showers and settle in, and once you do, find me or Tony, and we'll show you around." She said warmly before she walked out of the room. There was a king size bed in the middle with an end table in each side, a dresser was on the right beside a door that led to a closet and a door on the left that led to the bathroom.

With a heavy sigh, I sat down on the bed and Addie sat beside me. He leaned against my side as I wrapped one arm around him. Chance laid down and curled around our feet, he rested his head on his paws as he looked up at us. I realized then that had a good feeling about this place, and I hope that Addie and I can make it our home.

Chapter Text

"You won’t get away this time, Luthor!” Addie shouts, running towards me and jumping on my back.

“Oh no, you weaken me!” I howl, falling down onto the ground and rolling onto my back as Addie stands above me, playful glare on his face as he puts his hands on his hips.

“This is the last time you wreck terror on Metropolis. Laser eyes, activate!” I scream and roll over trying to get away from Addie and his ‘laser eyes’, knowing that if I don’t play along I’ll get tears and a tantrum. I run across the field of grass while his eyes follow me as I run. I trip and fall on the ground and when I get up on my knees, Addie is standing above me. He throws a fake punch to my face and I pretend to fall backward from the force before looking back up at him. “It’s over, now.” He says, voice deepening as he puffs his chest. “Any last words?” He asks.

“Boys! Dinner is ready.” I hear Edith from the other side of the field and turn to see her standing on the sidewalk next to the weeping cherry tree, arms crossed and a loving smile on her face.

“Oh, come on, I was just about to destroy him.” Addie whines, stomping his foot and crossing his arms. “It’s not fair.”

“Addie, dinner is ready,” Edith said, voice growing stern as she looked him in the eyes. Addie nodded his head and started walking towards her, head hanging low as he made his way over. I stood up and dusted my pants off before jogging over to them and throwing my arm around Edith and ruffling Addie’s hair, which earned me a glare in return and a smile from me.

We walked the rest of the way to the house in silence, taking a deep breath and loving the way the cool spring air rushed against my face, flowers and fruits and freshly cut grass filled my nose, leaving me content and happy.

Once we got inside the house, Tony was already sitting at the table, and the rest of us took our seats before we began to eat.

“Stiles, you know the group that went out the other day?” Tony asks, looking up from the stew that sat before him. “The one that went in search of more supplies?” I nodded my head and waited for him to continue. “Well, they missed their last two check-ins and we’re worried about them, so I and a couple of others agreed to have a search, and being the best medically qualified here, and the possibility of them being injured, we want you to come with us.”

They want me to go with them. I feel my heart fill with pride at the question. It’s considered an honor to leave the walls, means that you’re good enough to protect the people inside Beacon Hills, not just help them. Not many are allowed to leave the walls, just about a quarter of us can, and that’s not a lot.

“Of course,” I say around a mouthful of food, causing some of the broth to dribble down my chin and land on the table, which earns me a glare from Edith and I swallow before continuing. “When do we leave?”




“Okay, so we start west towards the lake, following the same path they took and stopping at any town nearby. It’s a simple job, find and rescue. All of you have been briefed about who we’re looking for and what we’re doing. Is everyone ready?” Tony asks, receiving a bunch of nods and ‘yes, sir’’s in return. He gives a nod and starts to walk towards the front gate. I heave the bag up onto my shoulder that was full of medical supplies and grabbed my trusty bat, the one my father made me and followed him out of the gate.

After a few hours, we stopped at a small town, a few houses and one gas station and a general store, doing a quick sweep and collecting any leftover supplies and looking for clues to see if the previous group had already been here.

I was in one of the few houses, sweeping the upstairs while someone else in the group was looking around downstairs. I walk into a room and notice that it’s a kids room, a girl to be in fact, and walk over to a dresser that had picture frames and trophies on it, and picked up one of the trophies.

It was a two-tier, along with blue and gold designs with a girl doing some type of gymnast pose with golden stars around her on a platform connecting the two tiers.

1st Place Junior Regions: Best Vault Performance

I put the trophy back where I had previously picked it up and grabbed one of the picture frames. A girl, around 12, was staring at the camera in a gymnast uniform with what appeared to be her mom and dad, huge smiles on their faces and the light reflecting off the various medals she had hanging around her neck. I smiled at the picture and easy memory of what it was like before the takeover when I still had mom and dad around.

All of a sudden I feel something hit the back of my head. I hiss in pain and turn around to see a girl standing behind me, a trophy in her hands and fear in her eyes.

“What the hell?’ I ask, clutching the back of my head as dots temporarily blot my vision.

“Who are you?” She asks, holding the metal trophy out in front of her.

“Stiles, gosh, did you have to hit me so hard?” I ask, rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head before letting my arms fall to my sides.

“So, you’re not one of those things?” She asks hesitantly, slowly lowering the trophy. Her auburn hair was matted and her clothes were old, decaying circles over the shoulders and down the sides. She had dirt on her face and her brown eyes were open and scared.

“No, I’m not, I’m here looking for some people, people that belong in my group,” I say, hissing as a point pain strikes through my head.

I hear a howl, and my ears perk and my heart starts beating rapidly in my chest.

“Listen, we need to go, now,” I say, walking over to the window and looking outside just in time to see people, but not just people, they had pointed ears and fangs and claws shaper that knives with more hair than necessary crowding their arms and faces. They were attacking the group.

“What… what do you mean? Is it the bad things?” The girl asks, voice quivering slightly as she took a sharp intake of breath.

“Yes, they’re here, and we need to go,” I whisper, turning around and looking at the girl. The only thing was, she wasn’t a girl anymore, she was one of those things.

I watch in horror as she lifts her head, menacing grin on her face as she puts her canine teeth on display. Her eyes light up blue as she stands up straight.

“You really need to learn who to trust, Stiles.” She growls before lunging at me. I yelp and jump out of the way, grabbing my bat from my bag and turning around and swinging, barely being able to hit her in the side. He howls in pain and clutches her side, and almost immediately, the wound is healed.

“Now you’ve just pissed me off.” She lunges for me again and I try dunk out of the way, but she’s able to claw my shoulder and grab a hold of it before jerking me backward, causing me to land on my back and my bat to skitter across the floor. She jumps on top of me and pins my hands down on my side and slashes her claws across my chest, ripping the skin and causing blood to ooze out. She gives me a sickening smile before she raises her head and lets out a howl. I take advantage of her exposed throat and punch it as I can, hearing a crack and watching as she falls over and gasps for breath. I jump up and grab my bat before running out the bedroom door and closing it behind me and running down the stairs and out of the house. When I make it out onto the street, no one’s there. Not Tony nor the others, they must have retreated when they were attacked and I was too busy with the girl that I didn’t hear anything.

I turn around wildly, trying to remember the way that we came, but the pain in my shoulder and my chest was hurting so bad that I couldn’t focus, and the blood was still coming from the gashes across my chest. I need to do something about these, and fast, they can track blood.




I ran for as far as I could in the direction that seemed like the way back home until I started to feel weak from the blood loss and found a tree for me to climb. I climb the tree as far as my injuries could allow me before I prop my bag in front of me and get the tools out of it needed to stitch the gashes on my chest and the cuts on my shoulder. I take my shirt off, which was barely usable as it was ripped to shreds from the brawl, and grab the numbing agent and a syringe, getting the right amount before putting the needle in my skin around the worst parts of the injury, before sticking it inside the cut itself. I hiss in pain as I feel the needle puncture the raw and exposed skin, like a bee sting as the numbing agent flows around in my bloodstream, tiny amounts of liquid fire every time I injected myself with it. I start to prepare the stitching needle with suture thread and two clamps. I clamp the needle with one and prepare myself to start stitching the wound.

I can barely feel the needle as it goes through my skin, just a tug and the feeling of rope going lightly across my skin. I repeat the process of clamping the needle and pushing it through my skin before clamping it again and pulling it through. I don’t know how long it took me, but by the time I finished and had everything packed, the moon was high in the sky and the temperature was cool.

I start to think about the girl that I met in the house, the one that attacked me. She knew my name, but I know I never told her what it was, so how did she know it in the first place? What if the group missing, the attack, all of it was because of me? If it was, what do I have to do with any of this?

I laid my head against the rough bark of the tree as the leaves moved around me, dark feathers as the wind made them sway on the branches. I take a deep breath, trying to relax and hope that I would be okay and find my way home.




I was woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of bushes rustling and branches snapping. I lean over the edge of the branch to look below me, and I see two figures walking beneath me.

“I’m telling you, it was him.” A girl whispers. It’s her, the girl from before, in the bedroom. She looks different now, her skin was clean and her clothes look brand new, no traces of the girl that attacked me in the house in the small. I can see the man beside her shake his head before grabbing her arm and stopping her.

“Do you smell that?” He asks, voice lowering as he takes a deep intake of breath. “Its blood. Maybe you were right, but you’re still in trouble for letting him get away.” He says, venom lacing his voice as he looks around. His gaze lands on the tree and slowly follows it up before his eyes reach mine. A growl erupts from his throat, and he glares, fangs bared and claws coming out. The girl’s eyes follow his, and soon, she’s staring at me too.

“That’s him.” She growls, baring her teeth as well. She comes towards the tree and starts climbing it towards me, and I panic, grabbing my bag and trying to climb the tree further up. I can feel the pain of my stitches pulling against my skin and I hiss in pain, trying to keep the strain across my chest to a minimum as I don’t want to rip the fresh stitches. I go to grab onto a branch, but it’s weaker than it appears and breaks as I try to pull my body onto it. I slip a few branches down and try to grab onto another branch, but I feel a hand grip my ankle and yank me down.

I scramble and try to get ahold of another branch, and I do, but this one breaks as well, and the combination of the hand dragging me down and the branch breaking, I fall through the tree and onto the ground. I land on a root that’s protruding from the ground and I feel my breath get knocked out of me. My vision is blurry and there're blots clouding my vision, and everything keeps going in and out of focus and everything was doubling. I see the same two people as before, the guy and the girl, and they’re walking up to me, whispering amongst themselves before the guy turns to me.

“The famous Stiles Stilinski, I thought it’d be easier to catch you than this.” He says, leaning down and crouching in front of me, gripping my chin and forcing me to look at him. He knew my name, too, my full name. “He’ll be glad we finally caught you, he’s been waiting years for this.” And then everything went black.

Chapter Text

When I came to, there was no one around me. I was in a room, a small room with a single, small bed that I was tied to pushed up against a wall. On the adjacent wall, there was a door, metal with bars covering a small rectangle in the top part of the door. Everything that I had on me, was gone. I even had a new shirt on and sweatpants covering my legs The floors were dirt with hay scattered about to act as flooring, and I caught the smell of a barn when I breathed in. I turned to my left and saw a small table with a tray and a cup of water. The tray had two pieces of bread and baked beans in a bowl, and there was a spoon sitting next to the bowl. I don’t know how long I was out or how long I’ve been here, but by the grease in my hair and the dirt still covering parts of my body, it’s been a few days.

I can hear voices on the other side of the door, whispers of a conversation before the voices get louder, angrier, then there are rapid footsteps coming towards the door and I quickly lie down to make it seem like I’m still asleep before they make it into the room. As soon as I get situated and toss the thin blanket over my legs, they come through the door and I turn my face towards the wall so they can’t see my face.

“I know you’re awake.” A deep voice grumbles. I heave out a sigh, raise up, and throw my legs over the side of the bed, keeping my eyes down as I look at my bare feet and the dirt underneath it. “Look up.” He growls, and I look up to meet his gaze. His eyes are beautiful, I felt like I was staring into the deepest part of the forest at dawn, a beautiful green. His jaw was structured and his dark brown hair was spiked up at the front and laid down the rest of the way. He was muscular, the muscles on his body were bulging through his shirt where his arms were crossed.

“What am I doing here?” I ask, letting my gaze drift back up to his eyes.

“That’s none of your business.” He says, his eyebrows furrowed as he glares at me.

“How’s that none of my business, I’m the one freaking being held captive here,” I shout, trying to throw my arms out but my wrist gets caught by the rope tied around it. “It’s what’s up with these stupid restraints? It’s not like I could actually fight you guys and escape, even if I wanted to.”

“Safety measures.” Is all he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at him and look away.

“Is there anything you can tell me? Or is it all strictly none of my business?” I huff, meeting the hardness of his glare. His glare lessens, but I keep my firm.

“My uncle has you here, but he hasn’t told me why yet. That’s all I know.” He says, dropping his arms beside him and shoving them in your pocket. His eyes land on the uneaten food in the table beside me and his eyes soften before he looks back at me.

“Eat. You need it.” And then he’s out the door.




Almost every day was the same after that. The man would come in with his bushy, murderous eyebrows. Sometimes I’d be lucky to hear him talk, but in all honesty, the reason why he wasn’t talking was probably that every time he’d walk in through the door I’d start yelling at him. I even got to the point where I started throwing the cups and bowls and utensils that left me, even though they would still be full of food, and he’d just stand there, glaring at me even though he was getting covered in food. And when I’d be done and my throat would be hurting so much he’d just turn around and leave.

Then one day when I woke up, there wasn’t a plate of food sitting on the table, and the table had even been moved a couple of feet away from me so I couldn’t reach it. I huffed where I was laying on the bed and sat up, hearing a lock click before looking up and seeing the same guy as every other time walk in. I started calling him ‘sourwolf’ because he wouldn’t tell me his name, and he was always in a bad mood.

He was carrying a tray this time, with food on it and set it down on the table before bringing in a chair and sitting in it, right in front of where I sit on the bed, but far enough away that I couldn’t attack him.

“We’re trying something different today, Stiles.” He mutters, arms leaning on his knees as he looks me in the eyes. “No matter what you do or say to try to get me to leave, I’m going to sit here and stay until you eat everything on that plate.” He huffs, leaning back and pushing the table closer to me before crossing his arms.

“Why?” I ask, slightly intimidated by how close he was and how intense the look in his eyes was.

“Because like I said before, you need it. Now eat.” He says, voice hardening as he glares at me. I glared back at him, challenging him as I leaned back against the wall behind me. I wish I could cross my arms, but my wrist was still tied to the post of the bed. We sat like that, for I don’t know how long before I could see his resolve slowly withering away and getting replaced by irritation and anger. His glare hardened and his shoulders tensed.

“Why won’t you just eat?!” He bellows standing up and leaning over me, his eyes flashing blue and his fangs baring over his curled lips. I reel in fear and draw my body close, actually scared of him for the first time. It’s been close to two weeks and not once has he ever yelled or bared his teeth at me. He seems to notice the fear coming off of me and he backs up and turns around. “Just, please, Stiles.” Is all he says as I can see his shoulders rise and fall from his deep breaths before he turns around and walks away.

The fear slowly subsides and I go back to sitting on the edge of the bed. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart and my gaze catches on the tray sitting on the table beside me. It looked like some type of stew, long gone cold. I heard my stomach grumble and I looked at it before looking at the door. Maybe one bite wouldn’t hurt, right?

I grab the bowl and can feel the cold porcelain against my hands, and I pick up the spoon before taking a bite. It was cool, as I suspected, but it tasted great. It was beef stew, with carrots, potatoes, and celery. When I was finished, I sat the now empty bowl and spoon back down on the tray before grabbing the glass of water and taking a few sips.

I laid back down on the bed and faced the wall, the restraint on my wrist making it more difficult than it should, and just laid there.

Derek came back in a while later and stood beside my bed for a few seconds before he grabbed the tray and started walking towards the door. I heard it open but I didn’t hear any footsteps or the door closing, instead, I heard a soft ‘thank you’ and then the door finally closed.




Sourwolf and I fell into a routine after that, every day I’d wake up and there’d be food waiting for me, I’d eat it, then a couple of hours later he would come in and grab the tray before leaving. Every day, for two weeks, it was exactly the same.

One day, however, I woke up to the feeling of hands around my wrist, and when I looked up, it wasn’t sourwolf, it was someone new. They were tall and dark and just as buff as sourwolf, their eyes glowing blue as I made eye contact with him before they went back to their normal brown color. He climbed on top of me and I panicked, thrashing my arms to try to get him off of me, but his grip tightened and he held me down, I could feel the bruises already forming on my wrists. I started kicking my legs but his knees pinned those down and I was left immobile. I started crying as the pain and fear mixed with the realization of what was happening. The man bent down and put his mouth next to mine.

“Everyday, I’d see you asleep when I’d bring your food and would imagine the things I’d do with you,” He whispers, trailing his lips along my cheek before making contact with my lips. The kiss was rough and dirty as he forced his tongue inside my mouth. I took the advantage and bit down as hard as I could on his tongue. He growled and pulled back, putting both of my wrists into his one and slapping me hard across the face before gripping my jaw and turning me to face him. His claws were digging into the skin on my cheeks, and I winced in pain.“Now that wasn’t very nice,” He growls. “I think that deserves some punishment, don’t you?”

His hand that was gripping my face trails down and he rips my shirt open, cutting my chest in the process right over top of the slowly healing wound, tearing some of the stitches in the process as his claws go from the middle of my chest to the top of my belly button. I cry out in pain as his claws pierce my skin, and he smiles in satisfaction before his hand trail down and gropes me through the pants I was wearing. I start crying again, from the pain or what he was doing I couldn’t tell, maybe both, maybe a mix of everything that was happening.

I feel him pull my pants down and the tears were coming full force now, and for the first time, I was praying that sourwolf would show up. I start struggling again and the man grabs a hold of my thigh and I feel his claws slowly insert into my skin, going at least an inch in before I start to wail and he drags them down every so slowly.

“Stop struggling. It only causes this to go slower for you.” He growls, releasing my thigh from his hold and I could see blood coating the tips of his fingers. My blood.

The man started to bite and suck at the skin on my neck and my chest, surely leaving bruises and hickeys in their wake, as he made his way down to wear my boxers were. He looks up at me and smiles, a hunger in his eyes and evil lacing his smile.

“Derek’s not going to save you,” he says, his smile growing wider, and then he starts to pull down his pants and his hand reaches the brim of his boxers before suddenly he’s thrown off and I can feel myself breathe again. I watch as he’s thrown against the other wall and sourwolf is standing there, claws out and breathing heavily.

“Leave.” He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest as he glares at the man.

“Come on, Derek, I was just having fun.” The man laughs, looking back at me and smiling. Sourwolf, Derek, stands in his line of vision and blocks his view. I don’t know what happens, but the man is pulling up his pants and walking out of the door. I watch Derek’s claws retract and he turns around to look at me, eyes soft as he slowly walks towards. His hand grabs the one that’s tied up and I jerk away, fearful that he’s going to do the same thing as the man tried to do. He leans back and holds his hands up in defense.

“I’m untying you, that’s all.” He whispers, his hands coming closer and grabbing my wrist, this time I don’t flinch and he successfully unties it. I grab my wrist and cradle it against my chest, crawling away from him and against the wall, or at least trying to as the pain in my thigh stops me from being able to use it, and I put too much pressure against my chest and I cry out in pain.

Derek is hovering over me with worry clouding his eyes, and I could tell by his hands being held out in front of him that he didn’t really know what to do. I sat there on the bed and cried, cried and cried and cried about what just happened, and what almost happened. After a few minutes, I felt Derek’s hand rest on my shoulder, and immediately I turned around and threw myself in his arms.

“Thank you,” I whispered, voice wavering as I spoke. “I don’t know what I would have done if… If he actually…”

“Shhh,” Derek hushed me and finally wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as he ran his hand through my greasy hair. We sat like that for a while, me crying in Derek’s arms as he rocked us back and forth. When I stopped crying, Derek gently pulled away and looked me in the eyes. “I’m going to get you out of this room, okay?” He whispers, and I nod my head. He starts to get up and I grab hold of his arm, fear racing through me as he starts to stand up. “It’s okay, Stiles, I’ll be right back, and nothing will happen to you. I promise.” He whispers and I let go of his arm with a shaky inhale. I notice that there’s blood on his shirt and pants, from the cuts on my bod, and he gives me a small smile before he leaves the room. That’s the first time I’ve seen him smile. It looks good on him.




Not long after, Derek walks back in and he has new, clean clothes on, and a hoodie in his hands, as he walks over to me.

“Do you need help taking off your shirt?” He asks, walking over to me and handing me the hoodie when I shake my head. I peel the shirt off and raise my hands up to pull the hoodie all the way down my torso, but the stretching of the skin on my chest makes me hiss in pain.

“Derek, help,” I whisper, and I feel his hands grab the bottom of the hoodie before pulling it down all the way and pulling it over my head so my head broke through the top. He had my sweats that I was wearing before laying beside me, and I stood up to put them on. I lifted my uninjured leg and started to teeter, but Derek grabbed onto my shoulders and held me upright as I put them on all the way.

“You ready?” He asks, and when I nodded my head in response he leads me towards the door with his hand on the small of my back.

“Am I free?” I asked hesitantly when his other hand grabs a hold of the door handle. He sighs and shakes his head, a frown on his face as he looks at me.

“I’m sorry. That’s not something I can control.” He says and I nod my head in understanding. He wasn’t the alpha, so he couldn’t make that decision. He leads me out the door and I realize I was in a small shack, surrounded by farm animals. That’s what the smell I caught on the first day was from.

He leads me out of the shack and I have to shield my eyes from the sun, not quite used to the sun as I’ve been inside the shack for over a month now. He leads me past the animals and suddenly I’m surrounded by houses. People were walking about and stared at me as I passed.

“Keep your head down.” Derek whispers and I have to strain to hear him, but I do and obey, turning my head down and looking at our feet as we continue to walk.

We make it to a house and I look up. It’s two stories and white with a black door. He opens the door and leads me inside. It’s an open floor plan with a living room that holds a couch, recliner, and a TV with a kitchen connected that is partially separated by an island connected to the wall. Overall the room is very spacious. There are steps to the left that lead upstairs, and Derek takes me up that way. It leads to a hallway that has three doors, two on the right and one on the left. Derek walks me past the first one and the second, and stops in front of the third.

It’s a bathroom, and he has me walk into it and sit on the toilet lid while he grabs a small first aid kit from under the sink. He turns to me and motions for me to take off my hoodie, and I do as he grabs a cotton round and pours rubbing alcohol on it and brings it to my chest. He starts to clean the wounds on my chest and I hiss in pain every time the alcohol makes contact with a new part of the exposed flesh. When he’s done cleaning it, he wraps it in gauze and puts tape around the edges.

“I need you to take your sweats off, so I can clean those.” He says and I stand up and take them off. I sit back down on the lid and he goes back to cleaning off the wounds on my thigh. The only part where it’s deep is where his claws were dug into my skin, but the scratches following weren’t as deep as the entry point. He puts butterfly bandages on the holes in my leg to keep them close and then wraps the rest in gauze and repeats the process he did on my chest. When he’s done, he puts everything away and grabs my hand and leads me towards the other door on this side of the hallway. He opens it and it’s a room.

“Get some rest. When you wake up, you can take a shower and I’ll rebandage the cuts.” He says before swiftly turning around and walking out of the room. I look at the door after he closed it before walking over to the bed and sitting down on it. It was soft, warm, and comfortable, completely different than the bed I had previously. I pulled the thick blanket back and laid down in the bed before covering myself with it. I rested my head against the pillows and pulled the blanket all the way up under my chin and closed my eyes, praying for sleep to come, and when it did, I wished I was awake again.

Chapter Text

I woke up a few hours later, covered in sweat and my heart racing at the nightmare I just had. It was of the man in the shack, but Derek hadn’t saved me in time. With shaky hands I pull the duvet off of me and climb out of the bed, rubbing my eyes before dragging my hands down my face and heaving out a heavy sigh before walking out of the room and to the bathroom down the hall.

I peel off my clothes and my bandages before looking at myself in the mirror. The overlaying cuts on my chest were nasty and fresh and bruised around the edges. The one gashes on my thighs were deep and a dark purple, and still tender at the touch. There was a purple bruise on the side of my face, where the man slapped me, and little hole like cuts on my cheek from where he gripped my face so hard with his claws. The part that disgusted me the most, was the hickeys that lined my neck and chest. Dark and prominent against my pale skin. I feel myself fill with disgust as I continue to look at my damaged, mutilated body. The scars I’ve gained over the years and the bruises and wounds that cover my skin. It’s horrendous.

I look away from my reflection when I feel tears start to brim my eyes and fall down my face. I remember a time when I was confident, strong, and happy, but that was before everything happened. Before I lost my friends and my home and my parents and everything that I cared about and almost everything that I love. If it wasn’t for Addie, I wouldn’t be alive right now.

I shake my head to try to get rid of the thoughts and quickly turn to the shower and turn it on the hottest setting before stepping in. The hot water burned against the open wounds and made my skin turn red and irritated, but I ignored it. I tried to focus on washing my hair and body, something that I haven’t done in weeks. I watched as the water by my feet turned a light pink and light brown as the blood and dirt mixed with the water before it went down the drain. I scrubbed every inch of my skin, scrubbing and scrubbing until my skin was raw and I got the feeling and the smell of him off of me. But the feeling never quite went away. I scrubbed and I scrubbed, but I still felt dirty.

I got out of the shower about an hour later and saw that there were towels and a fresh pair of clothes sitting on the sink. It must have been Derek, I smile warmly at the gesture, but was slightly disturbed that I didn’t hear him come in. I dried off and got dressed before heading downstairs into the living room. I noticed that there was a bookshelf, something I hadn’t caught the first time I came through here and walked over to it to find me a book to read. I settled on Pride & Prejudice before curling up on the couch and opening to the first page.

By the time I was already halfway through the book, Derek came bursting through the door, seething in anger and agitated, his shoulders were stiff and his glare was hard and his fists were clenched so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. My eyes were wide as I witnessed Derek pacing back and forth before turning to me and looking completely off guard.

“Stiles.” He says, his shoulders slowly easing and his fists unclenching. “I didn’t know you were there.” I stare at him in return before going back to my book. I got about two sentences in, two very short sentences, before Derek started talking again.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, slowly walking over to me as if I were a wounded animal or a vicious predator, I couldn’t tell which.

“I’m not going to bolt if you get close to me,” I snapped, irritation already flooding my system from being cooped up in this house and Derek treating me like I’m something fragile. “And since I can’t leave, for God only knows what everyone else here will do to me if I try to leave, I’m reading.” I reply harshly, glaring slightly as I look at him.

I go back to my book and Derek keeps looking at me, and I catch him taking a deep breath before frowning and have those murderous eyebrows furrowing.

“Can I ask you something?’ He asks tentatively as his body slightly turns towards me.

“No.” I reply harshly, not looking up from my book. I can see his shoulders tense out of the corner of my eye and I can hear his breathing slightly get heavier.

“I just-”

“I said no, Derek.” I say, a finality in my voice as I turn to look up at him and give him the hardest I can manage.

“It’s just a simple question.” He says, voice getting slightly deeper and louder. I could tell I was making him aggravated, and hopefully, I’d get him angry enough that he’d just wolf out and rip my throat out.

“And I said no.” I growl, closing the book and laying it beside me before standing up. I start to walk past him when he stands up and grips my wrist. I spin around and punch him in the jaw before ripping my wrist out of his grasp. “Don’t touch me!” I scream. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are reaching all the way to his hairline, it seems, and he’s holding the side of his jaw that I punched. He seems to get over the shock for a moment before his stare hardens and his lips form a tight line.

“You,” He starts, getting right up into my face, “don’t tell me what to do.” He growls out. I can feel the anger rise in me as I push him away from me and clench my fists at my side.

“And why not, Derek? Am I supposed to be grateful?” I shout, walking up closer to him, and doing what he did to me, getting in his face. “Grateful that you had some random people chase me down in the woods? Grateful that you slaughtered my friends, lured us out just to attack them and capture me?” Is shove him against his chest again, causing him to take a couple of steps backward. "Grateful that you had me trapped in some shitty shack for weeks on end?”Another shove. “Grateful that you fed me?” And another. “Grateful that you saved me from that man?” I shoved him one final time and his back hit the wall. I got up in his face, to the point where our noses were almost touching and I was well aware of the tears streaming down my face and the shake in my voice and the way my lips quivered as I tried to hold it all in.

“You didn’t save me, Derek, because I’ve been wishing that I was dead for the past three years, and I was hoping he’d kill me in the process.” I sob, falling down to my knees as I wrap my arms around myself. I feel Derek bend down as well and hold me against his chest. I push against him to try to get him to let me go and cry in peace, hitting against his chest weakly as my arms fall limp and I bury my face in his chest.

“You killed them,” I whisper, clutching onto the front of his shirt as the sobs rock my body. “You killed my parents.”




I don’t know when I woke up next, but I felt drained and tired when I did. My movements were slow and sluggish, and my head pounded from all the crying I did yesterday. It came back to me once I remembered the crying. Yelling at Derek, getting angry with him before finally breaking down and sobbing in his arms. Embarrassing.

He must have carried me to bed when I fell asleep, which I have absolutely no memory of. I don’t have the courage to face him.


I pulled the covers further over my head before curling into a ball and just laying there, letting my thoughts swarm me as I laid pliant on the bed.

Thoughts about my mother and my father, how my dad would always cup his hand on the back of my neck when he was proud of me. The way my mother’s eyes sparkled when I would go on one of my rambles about something new I learned that way. The way Addie’s laugh would fill a whole room with happiness and warmth as it spewed out of his lips. Of the home I had, of Chance and how he seemed too incredibly smart to be a dog. He’d always jump on my bed and put his head in my lap when I cried, whether it be from stress from school or being rejected by Daniel.

The tears started flowing before I realized, before I could control them and make them stop. Tears about my past life, of the family I lost and the new world I was brought into and the home I’d have to raise my little brother in. Tears for the deaths of my parents and the monsters that took their lives. Tears over the werewolves that I find myself surrounded by, and the one that I’m currently living with.

Sobs wracked my body as I thought everything over. Addie was probably in misery at my disappearance, and Chance was probably wondering where I was, why I didn’t come home. No one knew where I was, and no one was going to find me.

The sobs came to a halt when I heard a knock on my door. Small and tentative, as if they were scared to knock too loudly.

“Stiles? It’s, uh, Derek. I made some food if you’re interested. It’s soup.” I hear his words muffled through the door, and I just curl myself tighter in my blanket and wipe the tears from my face, willing him to go away.

After a few seconds, I hear him sigh and walk down the stairs. I let out a sigh of relief before I hear his steps walking back up the stairs and a clink as something is set in front of my door.

I wait a couple of minutes, hearing him walk around downstairs before the front door opens and closes. Once it does, I crawl out of bed and crack open my front door, and see a steaming bowl of vegetable soup, or at least that’s what I’m guessing it is, sitting there with a cup to its side. I crack open my door a little wider and pull the bowl and cup through before closing it and locking it again. I take the bowl to bed and sit down and start eating it.

You know, for being a werewolf, he’s a pretty good cook.

I eat the rest of the soup silently, enjoying the spices that flood my mouth and the various vegetables that were littered in the broth. The cup ended up to be just water, sadly. I mean, it’s good, you know, but I’ve been drinking straight water for the past two months.

When I finished the food and downed my water, I creep back out of bed and set the empty bowl and cup outside before closing and locking the door once again. As soon as the lock clicks in place, I hear the front door open and close before footsteps start coming up the stairs.

I walk back to the bed and curl under the covers once again, just in time to hear Derek stop in front of my door before I hear the sound of him picking up the dishes and him walking away.




It went like that for a couple of weeks. I’d stay in my room all day, Derek would drop off food outside of my door, and when he’d leave I’d grab it, eat, and then take a shower before leaving the dishes outside the door before crawling back into my bed. Every day, like clockwork, that’s what would happen.

After those couple weeks, though, after getting my dishes and taking them downstairs, Derek would return and sit outside my room and talk. Sometimes it was casual talk, like what he did that day or the way the woods looked during this time of the year. Everything full and blossoming, with vibrant colors of pink and green and yellow and purple clouding the underbrush and the canopy. Everything was blossoming and it was beautiful.

Sometimes he’d read to me, too. It started with Pride & Prejudice, and somehow he started off on the page I stopped on. Thinking back, I realized that, even though I was angry, I dogeared the page before putting it down and trying to walk away from him, purely out of habit. When he was finished with the first, he moved on to something else. I remember he read me Hatchet, and after that it was The Hunger Games, then the first Harry Potter book, and right now, he’s currently reading The Great Gatsby. I don’t know what sparked this, but for the past month I’ve been holed up in my room, Derek has been there, every night, talking to me even though I never respond.

One night, he was telling me about his family. He was telling me how he and Laura never got along, how she was sarcastic and rude and messed around with him, just like every older sibling does. He’d tell me about how his little sister Cora was nosy and bossy and stubborn and always in his business, but always came into his room at night and sat in his chair and read a book while Derek worked on his homework, just because she was lonely. He told me how his parents were, how in love they were and how even in a crowded room their eyes always seemed to find one another, and a smile would instantly grace their faces.

“What happened?” I whispered one day on the other side of the door. I moved from the bed to the floor when he got on the topic of family. He never told me they were dead, but the way he was talking about them showed that they were. It’s the same way I talk about my parents.

“Arson.” He says back, his words slightly muffled through the doors.

“Did… did everyone?” I asked, knowing he’d get what I was asking.

“Yeah. Everyone.” I could hear the sigh through the door and laid my head against it.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and that was the end of the conversation.

Tonight was different, however. I could hear Derek making dinner downstairs, and I was determined to walk down there this time. Over the past few months I’ve been here, I realized that Derek is the only one I can really trust. He cared for me while I was in the shack, he saved me from the man, he feeds me, and he talks to me at night, even though he doesn’t have to. There are so many things he doesn’t have to do, yet he does.

I stood in front of the door and took a deep breath and shook out my arms to get the nervous jitters out. “C’mon, Stiles. Man up.” I whispered, doing one last shake of my arms before opening the door and walking downstairs. I followed the noise to the kitchen, which was on the other side of the living room, and walked in there.

Derek turned around, surprised at my appearance before giving me a small smile and going back to the food on the stove. I took a seat at the island in the middle of the kitchen and watched him as he cooked. I watched as his back muscles moved underneath his shirt and his sleeves strained against his biceps. I watched as his shoulders rose and fell with every breath he took.

Derek was attractive, anyone with eyes could see that, honestly, and sometimes I feel like if the situations were different, Derek and I could actually be something.

Derek turned around and slid a plate full of some type of egg dish in front of me before pulling out a stool and sitting in front of me with his own plate, effectively breaking me from my thoughts. We ate in silence, for a bit, before I looked up at Derek and he met my eyes.

“Tell me what you saw today.” I said, watching as Derek smiled and began talking about the vibrant purples and greens and blues and the smell of the place he calls home.

Chapter Text

Derek and I started a routine after that. I’d stay in my room while he was gone, and when he got back I’d come downstairs and talk to him while he cooked dinner, and when we were done with dinner, we’d watch a movie from the old DVD player Derek had found that was running on a generator, which is apparently how their whole town was being powered, just like Beacon Hills.

Tonight we were watching Mad Max, and Derek and I were sitting side by side, his arm thrown over the back of the couch while I was curled up in a blanket and leaning against his side.

Sometime during the movie, Derek nudged me and had me look over at him. When I did, he was already smiling, and I smiled back.

“I was thinking about you coming with me tomorrow.” He says, the smile on his face growing ever so slightly on the corners. I looked back at him in confusion, the smile dropping from my face.

“Going with you?” I ask, leaning back slightly so I could get a better look at his face.

“Yeah, I just have some things to take care of first, but I thought after we could go into the woods.” He replies, smile wavering just the tiniest bit.

“In the woods, to the place you always tell me about?” I ask, smile slowly coming back to my features.

“Yeah.” He breathes and smiles even wider.

“Let’s do it,” I respond, watching as the happiness appeared to radiate off of Derek. We don’t break eye contact, and I take the opportunity to really look at Derek this time. I noticed that his eyes weren’t really green like I first thought, they were a mix of blue and honey and green and gold, which most people called beautiful but I considered not fair. His eyebrows were still as murderous as always, but sitting here, they seemed to be relaxed a little, and there was a tuff on his right eyebrow like the hairs didn’t want to obey and make their own rules. The stubble on his face looked thick and scratchy, and I couldn’t help myself when I reached my hand and cupped the side of his jaw. The stubble was soft yet scratchy all at the same time. My thumb ran over his bottom lip, soft and plump, and Derek’s tongue darted out to follow the trail I made.

I noticed he was getting closer, ever so slightly, and I could feel my heart pick up its pace, not out of fear, but out of nervousness and want. Derek was gorgeous, that’s true, but he was even more beautiful on the inside. His personality was amazing, his laugh gives me goosebumps, and his smile makes all the bad thoughts go away. Being around him makes me happier, doesn’t remind me of everything I’ve lost. The way he talks makes me weak in the knees, and his openness makes me feel special. Every time I’m around him my heart beats faster, and everything is just… better.

He’s closer now, just a few centimeters away, and I lick my lips in anticipation as I feel his hot breath fan over them. I close my eyes and wait for it, for his lips to meet mine.

There’s a loud crash on the TV and I jump back, arms flailing around wildly as I try to calm my racing heart, which is beating out of fear now. I accidentally hit Derek in the side of the face, too, and the tips of my ears burn in embarrassment as I cradle his face and make sure he isn’t hurt. He lets out a small huff of laughter at me as I inspect him which causes me to smile back.

“Sorry,” I say sheepishly before letting go of his face and going back to curling up and leaning against his side. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him smiling at me before our focus goes back to the movie.




Walking through the forest was serene. It was the first time I’ve had fresh air in months, and I was living for it. The air was crisp and clean and fresh, and the green leaves glistened like glass in the sunlight as they moved with the breeze. The flowers were beautiful, violets were paired with wild tulips and buttercups, wild roses were dancing with vibrant orange flowers. Everything was peaceful, calm. Everything I craved since the world went to ruin.

“This way.” I hear Derek say as his hand cups mine and he pulls me in another direction. We walk a few paces before he brings me to a clearing. Tall grass was moving in a gentle tango with the flowers, pops of purple and yellow and orange all across the field. I dropped Derek’s hand and walked further into the field, letting my hands run across the beautiful flowers, interrupting them only briefly before they returned to their peaceful dance.

Taking a deep breath, I laid down gently in the field and stared up at the sky. The sun was bright and the sky was a light blue with little wisps of clouds dotting its presence. I sensed more than saw Derek lay down beside me and rest the back of his head on his arms.

We sat in silence for a while, just listening to the birds around us, feeling the breeze move around us, smell the sweet scent of flowers and feel the warmth of the sun on our bodies. It was relaxing, freeing, and the first time in months my mind wasn’t racing.

“You know,” I started, nudging Derek lightly, “you’re not as bad as I imagined most werewolves to be.” I smiled slightly as I turned my head to look at him and saw him staring back at me, with a soft smile of his own. “I always imagined that if I ran into one of you guys you’d rip my throat out with your teeth or something, especially after that day.” I finish, looking back up at the sky.

“What happened that day?” He whispers, small and barely audible, tentatively, like he was afraid of my answer. I glance back over at him and notice a slight slope to his eyebrows conveying how confused he was.

“What do you mean?” I ask. “Were you not there? Did you not see any of it?” He shakes his head before letting out a sigh and turning away.

“I didn’t want to go, and be a part of something like that.” He says, looking back over at me. “What happened?”

“Well,” I let out a sigh, trying my best to gather my thoughts before continuing. “I remember I was eating breakfast with my family one morning when all of a sudden werewolves were attacking the city. We didn’t know what you guys were at first, we thought animals had just gone rabid. I saw one of you, too, when my family and I heard the screaming outside. I pulled back the curtains, and… and as soon as I did I saw someone get attacked, that thing just pounced on her and tore her open like a freakin’ Christmas present.” I take a deep breath. “My family and I, and our dog, Chance, camped out in the basement for a few days after they broke into our house and attacked my dad. He’d have a pretty gnarly scar if he were still alive.” I take a pause. “Then we were heading to my grandparent's house and camping one night when one of them attacked. I was just sixteen at the time and Addie was four.”

“Addie’s your little brother, right?” He asks, and I nodded my head in response.

“We climbed a tree so it couldn’t get to us, and I heard gunshots and then next thing I know It’s at the base of the tree, looking at me and snarling and I could see how angry it was, but the blood covering its muzzle and most of its body proved to me that my parents were dead.” Derek releases one arm from below his head and latches his hand onto mine, still looking at me with that unwavering gaze. “Addie and I continued to head to our grandparent's cabin when we were intercepted by Tony and brought to his safe haven. Over the course of a few days, he explained to me everything that had happened. Werewolves had completely taken over, killed thousands and turned a few in the process. We only make runs when it’s absolutely necessary, we have to provide for ourselves, we turn into a family. Everything that was the world we had known before was completely gone. Werewolves hunt the remaining survivors, the survivors are forced into hiding. The survivors are taught how to kill not only werewolves but their loved ones that manage to get bitten. We’re basically raised as soldiers to fight hopeless battles, because that’s what this is, really, a war we won’t win.”




Derek and I stayed in the field for a little longer afterward, hands still clasping one another as Derek took in everything that I had told him. It felt odd going back through everything that had happened, realizing how our world had changed too drastically in the span of just a few hours. We were no longer on the top of the food chain, and it was basically the zombie apocalypse you watch on TV, except instead of zombies, werewolves had taken over.

We walked back to the house in silence, Derek’s face contemplative as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed a thin line, which was usual for Derek’s face, but this time the corners of his lips furrowed done in a frown at the corners and I’d say he looked guilty if I didn’t know any better.

When we reached the house Derek asked me to pick a movie while he made supper, and he’s in the process of making some kind of stew when I go to sit at the kitchen island with my elbows on the surface and my hands under my chin. I take the opportunity to look at Derek, at the hard line of his shoulders and the rigid, almost uncomfortable structure of his back. He was upset about something, I just haven’t figured out what yet.

I hear a growl emitted from Derek, and I can feel my heart rate spike as I lean off of the island and scoot further back, fearful that he’s going to do something to me, like pounce me or attack me or something.

That’s when I feel a hand clasp my shoulder, hard and firm and I jump in surprise. The man looked to be around his late thirties, his hair swept back and his eyes blue with a structured jaw.

“Now, is that any way to greet your uncle?” He asks, a sickening smile forming on his features. Peter, this was Peter. Derek had told me stories about him, how he was cruel and manipulative and conniving, but Derek couldn’t get rid of him because it was his last family member, and because he was the Alpha.

“What do you want, Peter?” Derek growled, turning around from the stove and staring at Peter, then at his hand still clasping my shoulder.

“Oh, I just wanted to check in on my favorite nephew and see how his little pet was doing.” His grip tightened on the word pet and I flinched at the pain that was coming from it, surely causing bruises to form already. Derek noticed the reaction and his glare got even more murder-y, if that was even possible for him. “I was just seeing if there had been any progress made.” Derek stiffened at that, fear flashing in his eyes before it was gone as quickly as it came, and crosses his arms over his chest, his really nice arms at that. I looked at Derek confused when the words processed in my head. Progress? Progress for what?

“We’re fine,” Derek replied, voice low as he took a few steps towards me before stopping when I felt Peter’s claws start to dig into my skin.

“I heard about your trip to the woods. Was it any fun?” He asks, looking at me. I give him a nod in response before he smiles and looks at Derek. “Don’t forget what I said,” Peter growls, eyes flashing red before he lets go of my shoulder and fixes his jacket. “Now, I have some other business to attend to.” He smiles at Derek, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes, it hasn’t the whole time he’s been here, then turns to look at me. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Stiles, I’ve heard so much about you.” And then he was gone.

I look back over at Derek to see the frown was back on his face, and watch as he turns around stiffly and starts putting the stew in two different bowls. He slides one in front of me and sits on the island, already eating out of his own bowl.

“Hey, Derek?” I ask, quietly as I pick up my spoon. He looks up at me and motions for me to continue. “What was he talking about, when he mentioned ‘progress’?”

The line of Derek’s shoulders hardened and he stared down at the stew in his bowl before he took a bite.

“Nothing. He’s just trying to get in your head.” He takes another bite before looking at my bowl and then looking at me. “Eat your stew.”

I do, eat my stew I mean, but the whole time Derek is quiet and I have a sinking feeling in the bottom of my stomach when he refuses to look at the whole time we’re eating and tries his best not to touch me when he gets my bowl when I’m finished and puts it in the sink. He goes upstairs after that.

We didn’t watch a movie.

Chapter Text

Derek still wasn’t talking to me, really. It’s been over a week since Peter came by for a visit, and everything between me and Derek was just… wrong. It’s like everything that we were building up in these few months I’ve been here just collapsed and disappeared, almost as if it had never happened in the first place. We still ate together, sort of. I’d sit at the kitchen island while he cooked, except when he was done he’d give me a plate and then stand at the opposite side of the kitchen leaning against the counter, the furthest he could be from me while still making sure I didn’t escape. Which, really, he should know by now that I won’t. I don’t know where I’m at, where my gear is, and I know that as soon as I’d leave there’d be about ten werewolves on me. That’s not something I’d particularly like to happen.

Thankfully, I managed to get Derek to watch a movie with me, like we used to, and even though it’s been a week it feels like forever since we last hung out, or even talked. I was grateful to be back to some sense of normalcy in the weird misshapen thing that has become my life.

I made sure to keep my distance from Derek, too scared that if I got close enough that’d he’d bolt. I had tried to get close to him once, a couple of days after Peter left, and he immediately jerked back as soon as I placed my hand on his arm (you know, with the whole werewolf superpower of incredible hearing, I figured he’d hear me coming) and then left the room without any words or any hesitation. So, I sat on one side of the couch curled up to try to take up as little room as possible, while Derek sat on the other end, elbow resting on the arm of the sofa with his head leaning on his hand completely engrossed in the movie.

I couldn’t focus on the movie, even though I tried to. My body was hyper-aware of Derek, every move he made and every breath he took, every time he sniffled or scratched at his scruff. It was aggravating, really. I came to terms that I liked Derek, (a werewolf for christ’s sake, the things I’m supposed to hate) and that had been rough. I realized it when everything stopped, when I was so upset about that fact and I couldn’t understand why. Then I realized it was the stubble that lined his jaws, and the colors that filled his eyes and eyebrows that always displayed his emotions and thoughts. It was his chest and his build, perfect for making me feel safe and secure when I wake up from nightmares in the middle of the night; the soft tone of his voice when he spoke to me, the way he always cared for me even when I didn’t ask for it. His hidden sense of humor, the soft curves of his lips when he smiles, the gentle, barely-there touches of his fingers. His smile, his poor choice of movies and his awesome choice of books.

It was everything, every little thing that made Derek simply Derek, and I was falling for him too.

I didn’t realize I was looking at Derek until his gaze caught mine. Blank and bland, looking back at me with a straight face and smoothed out eyebrows and the thin-set of his lips. I look away quickly and look at the screen, trying my best to focus on the high-speed chase happening in the movie. All I could think about was Derek, though, and couldn’t help but think if he felt the same. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my head, and thought about how different he acted around me than he did everyone else. With me, he softer, gentler, and warmer than he was with everyone else. With the other people around here, he was hard and firm and walked with the knowledge that he was powerful and had control.

I thought about the way his fingers would wrap around mine when I’d fall a few steps behind him, the way that he’d put a hand on my shoulder when another wolf would let out a snide remark towards me, and the way that his hand would slide up my arm and rest on the back of my neck before drawing me close when I was fighting off tears.

He had to have feelings for me too, surely, and honestly, there was only one way to find out.

I turn around suddenly, see his eyes widen slightly as we watched me crawl over to him (albeit a little clumsy, what with my arms flailing and my legs getting tangled in my blanket) and stopping right in front of him, leaning back on my haunches. He goes to open his mouth at the same time as I take a deep breath and go for the dive.

His lips felt as amazing as I dreamed. They were soft and gentle, and the scruff surrounding his face that rubbed against my chin was just as so. We sat there, lips pressed to lips before I gave a hesitant nudge and felt his lips start to move against mine. It was slow at first, gentle, just our mouths moving against one another before I felt his tongue poke out and I opened my mouth to invite his in.

It became heated very quickly, and dare I say hot. One arm wrapped around my back and pulled me closer, hand winding up and wrapping around the back of my neck, the other around my waist to pull me over and have me resting in his lap. My hands were everywhere, running over his chest and his back and caressing his side before one rested at the nape of his neck and the other somewhere in his hair.

His tongue was soft and warm as it grazed mine, roaming every corner and tasting every crevice. It’s eccentric, feeling his hands roam my body and the feeling of stubble burn as he leaves slow, wondering kisses down along my jaw and down my neck. His lips leave a soft kiss where my neck meets my shoulder before he starts to nip and bite to leave a mark. My hands tighten in his hair and a soft moan leaves his lips.

Suddenly I’m sprawled across the couch and Derek and standing above me on the other side of the arm of the couch, hand covering his mouth before his hands run down along his beard and his neck, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Derek?” I gasped, raising up and resting on my elbows, pushing myself further until I was holding myself up and reached out to Derek. He jerked back when he saw my hand and shook his head.

“No.” He whispers, looking horrified before shaking his head again and running up the stairs. I sink back into the couch and feel tears spring in my eyes, feeling crushed and helpless after what just happened. It was as if I was on cloud nine before I got pushed off and came tumbling down back to Earth, hard and ragged and hitting every tree, branch, and skyscraper on my way. There had been so much bad in my life these past few years, and being with Derek, kissing Derek, made all of them disappear. It was the first time in a long time that I was actually, truly, purely happy, even when before I kissed him. His presence was enough.

And now I might have just ruined all of it.

Chapter Text

I… I don’t really know what happened. Everything is kind of a blur, and whatever they hit me with isn’t helping me focus on anything around me or remember anything that happened. Well, I remember some, actually. I was reading quietly in the living room, nestled into my corner like I usually do, and Derek wasn’t home, so when I heard a silent thud at the door I figured that Derek was just having a little difficulty getting in the house (It’s happened a couple of times, when he’s had a hard day, and I knew not to go and open the door for him when it resulted in a screaming match over how it’s dangerous and I can protect myself). The only thing was, he had only left maybe an hour before, and he stays gone for about five or six, so he shouldn’t have been back by then. I ignored it, however, Derek’s words of staying safe was echoing like a mantra in my head. and I went back to my book. Then the bang had happened again, and I heard one upstairs as well, and that’s when I knew it wasn’t Derek and something was truly wrong.

I had gently sat my book down on the table in front of me before I took careful steps to the closet that sat between the living room and kitchen against the far wall, the place Derek told me to hide in case anything happened while he was gone, and slipped inside, softly shutting the door behind me. I had put my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my shuddering breaths when I heard the front door slam opening, hitting the wall with a loud bang!

I heard two pairs of footsteps walk in front of the closet. They stopped momentarily before they continued on their way. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and relaxed a little inside the closet. Then, the door had jerked opened and I was dragged out before they hit me in the back of the head and everything was black.

Now, my hands are tied above my head and my feet are barely touching the ground, and the feeling of the world moving around me isn’t helping me stay balanced or keep the strain out of my shoulders at the pain of the stretching in the muscles that aren’t used to being put under this much strange in this position.

I can feel something dried on the back on my head, and I don’t even have to feel it to know that it’s dried blood caused from whatever they hit me with, which honestly feels like they just whacked me with a metal bat.

I could see three figures in front of me, blurred, but still there. One was tall and beefy, one short and lean, and the last average with broad shoulders. Their voices kept fading in and out, but I was able to catch some of it.

“We don’t have much time… will be back soon…”

“What if he doesn’t talk… mother…”

“Make him… has what we need…”

“What about his…”

“We keep that secret to ourselves…”

I couldn’t hear enough of the conversation to fully understand what they were talking about, but clearly, they were talking about me, or else I wouldn’t be tied up like butchered meat. By the time my vision started to clear, one of the figures had gone, and the tall, beefy one was followed by the short and lean one.

“Well, look who’s awake.” He cackled, his voice deep and gruff, with a southern accent nestled deep in his speech. “We’re about to have a field day with you.”

He smiles at me as he holds up his hand and flashes his claws at me, his teeth just as sharp. He puts one cowed finger against my cheek and runs it down my face. I can feel my heart rate speed up and I know that they can hear it too. Cowboy trails his claw along my jaw and across my throat before he grips it tightly and digs his claws in.

“The magic, tell us how you use it.”

“You know, I can’t tell you anything when you’re cutting off my air supply.” I gasped, breathing in a lungful of air when his claws release my throat. He took a step forward to the point that his nose was brushing against mine. His eyes glowed blue and he bared his fangs to growl at me. “That’s not scaring anyone, buddy. I live with Derek Hale.” I rolled my eyes at his attempt to scare. That look is something I’m used to. Derek would always do that when he got frustrated with me, which was like, a lot. Every day, just about.

Cowboy steps back and grabs something off of the table and walks up to me. When I look, it’s my bat. The bat my father made me the day everything went to crap.

“Okay, I don’t think that will be necessary.” I shuddered, watching as he drew the bat back.

“It’s all necessary unless you cooperate. So tell me, how do you use the magic.” He growls, his claws elongating and digging into the wood of the bat.

“I promise you that I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I shouted, fearful that he was going to use that bat on me.

“Wrong answer.” Then there was pain, so much pain, agonizing pain. I could feel the nails digging into my side as my ribs cracked beneath the pressure. Searing fire coursing through my side and the warm blood oozing out of the cuts. He took the handle of the bat and pulled it toward him, causing me to be dragged towards him and the nails to rip my skin open. Blood gushed out of it as tears ran down my face.

“Where did you get your magic?” He asks, ripping the bat out of my side.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not magic.” I wailed, my arms getting tired and the wound searing with pain as my arms tied up was pulling the skin taught.

“Lies!” He roared. I could feel the power of it ringing in my ears as he took the bat and drove it into my other side, doing the same thing and causing the blood to pour out of that side too.

“You are the only one who holds the power to do it. You are the only one who can do it!” He yells, taking his claws and digging them into the already-there wounds on my sides. I cried out at the feeling of his claws piercing deeper and spreading my skin open.

“Stop! Daron, stop! You’re killing him!” The other one, the smaller one had a native California accent, except I just noticed he had a scar on the side of his face. Scarface. One of my dad's favorite movies.

I decided I liked him the best as he pulled Cowb - Daron off of me. I saw Daron look at me, my blood covering his arms and his clothes before everything went black.




It was weird watching everything around me in slow motion, everything going in and out of focus, my consciousness doing the same. I watched, bleary-eyed, as they untied me and brought me back to Derek’s house, throwing me on the floor before leaving. I didn’t know what time it was or when Derek was going to be back, but eventually, I saw the door burst open and a Derek-like figure calls out my name.

“Stiles?” His hands came up and cradled my face before one trailed down and rested on the disaster that rested there. I felt the pain drain away and with it, my vision began to clear. Derek was hovering over me, eyes shining blue. Fear spiked in my chest, just a moment before I relaxed and realized that I was safe. This is Derek, my Derek. “Stiles, what happened.” He demanded. I just shook my head, slowly, and let my hand cover his that was resting on my side to apply pressure to it. It was still bleeding, but slowly.

Derek seemed to know what I was asking for. He picked me up and cradled me close to his chest as he carried me to the bathroom, the same bathroom he brought me to the first time he saved me. He sat me down on the toilet, but the blood loss was starting to affect me and I wavered to one side. He carefully places his hand where my shoulder met my neck and eased me to the other side to rest on the sink. I don’t know what happened much after that, he used something to numb the pain. He was stitching me up, I could feel the gentle pull of them going through my skin. When he was finished with my left side, he turned me around and rested my head on his shoulder as he stitched the other side.

When he was finished, he cleaned everything up and picked me up once again, careful of my new stitches. He laid me down in a bed, a different bed than the one I use. This one smelled of Derek, outdoors and pine and spring water. This was Derek’s bed.

“Rest, Stiles.” He whispered, pushing the hair from my forehead and giving a lingering kiss. “You’ll be okay.”




When I came to, Derek was sitting in a chair across the room in front of a desk with his nose in a book. Typical. I let out a little huff of laughter and Derek perked up, looking at me before rushing over to the bed and crouching in front of it. His hand reaches out and runs across my hair before resting on my cheek, holding me still as he looked me in the eyes.

“What happened?” He whispers, rubbing his thumb on the soft skin under my eye. I shook my head in response and felt the tears begin to spring in my eyes. “Okay, okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it.” He shushes. He continues to stare into my eyes as his thumb rubs soothingly along the side of my face. My hand reaches up and cups the one on my face. I give him a small smile and watch as he returns one, one that scrunches up the lines beside his mouth but doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, taking my other hand and rubbing it over the creases between his brows before it smooths out.

“I was just worried.” He says, reaching up and grabbing the hand that was smoothing out the tension lines around his forehead. “You scared me.” I chuckle at that before intertwining our fingers.

“Why were you worried? It’s just me.” I smile and rub my thumb back and forth on the back of his.

“Because I didn’t want to lose you.” He whispers, breaking eye contact for the first time since I woke up. My thumb stopped its motions against his hands and my heart sped up, nervous for what he was about to say. “I know that what I did hurt you,” He takes a deep breath before he looks in my eyes again. “And I feel so awful for that, I could hear your pain, and It’s because I thought that you would be safer if I stayed away, if I pushed you away.” He looks away again at our joined hands. “But now I realize I might have just put you in even more danger.” I moved my hand that was covering his on my face to reach out and clasp his, gently pulling until I got him to look at me.

“I’m safest around you. I trust you.” I whisper. I love you. He smiles at me before I pull him closer. He smiles at me, one that reaches his eyes before he moves the rest of the way and his lips meet mine. Slow, soft, and gentle. Safe, with him close and holding me like I’m something special, something to be cherished.

Like he loves me too.

Chapter Text

The recovery, this time, took a lot longer than it had before. Granted, the injuries were by far a lot worse than they were before, but it was more… enjoyable, yet infuriating. Derek treated me like a glass doll and wouldn’t let me leave the bed for weeks. Weeks! It took a good half an hour to tell him that ”I can shower byself, thank you. I’ve been doing it for the better part of 19 years.” To which he grumbled and reluctantly left, only when I promised him I wouldn’t lock the door in case anything happened. He fed me countless broths and soups for the better part of two months, all in bed, his bed, because he wouldn’t let me leave it, except to shower and pee. Granted, I couldn’t really walk, but still.

There were some good things that came out of it, however, like Derek reading to me some nights when I had trouble sleeping, or how he always fell asleep in that forsaken desk chair until I convinced him I was healed enough that he started sleeping in the bed with me, warm and inviting and an instant soothe. And the little kisses he’d give me for the tiniest of things; like when I took my first step without collapsing under the strain and pressure on my torso, it was a kiss on the lips. When I went a full week without nightmares, a kiss on the head. When I was able to make it downstairs without running out of breath, a kiss on the temple.

I came to find out Derek was a lot more affectionate than he seemed like he would be. He always had to have some type of contact with me, whether it be his foot resting against my leg when we were eating at the kitchen island, or his hand laid on my thigh when we were reading before bed, or his shoulder brushing mine when we’d leave the house. I thought that it was annoying at first, his need to constantly be around me, to feel me, until I realized it was him proving to himself that I was really there, with him, and I was alive and breathing.

It didn’t take long for the broken ribs to heal, but the cuts were so deep it took a little longer than the six weeks it took for the ribs.

Werewolves, man. I’m telling you.

Now, it’s a few months since the accident, and Derek is actually letting me walk outside the house for once. He said that we’re going back to the clearing, but I’m not allowed to be by myself, so I have to go with him to do his “princely duties”.

“It’s not princely duties, Stiles.” Derek huffs, crossing his arms. “I’m not a prince.”

“But you’re next to be Alpha, so, yeah. You’re kind of like a werewolf prince.” I say, smiling at him. He continues to brood and doesn’t even spare me a glance. “Come on,” I say, leaning over and nudging his shoulder. “You know you want to smile.” I poke his cheek and let out a shriek as he playfully tries to nip at my finger, resulting in a smile to grace his features.

“That’s it.” I finally gather our surroundings, where we’re at. It’s a house that I haven’t been to before. It was tall and made of brick, much like my home back in Beacon Hills. There were no shutters or any plants outside, making the place look abandoned and gloomy. Derek walked up to the front door and knocked loudly on it before taking a step back and returning to my side. The door opens to reveal none other than Peter Hale himself. I feel myself tense up on instinct when I see him, fearful of what he would do. I feel Derek rest his hand on the small of my back and try to focus on the warmth radiating from him. It works, somewhat. I’m not as tense. Peter looks at me and smiles.

“Hello, Stiles. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He asks, smirk growing on his face before he turns and looks at Derek. “Nephew.” Derek tenses next to me. I’m glad I’m not the only one bothered by Peter’s presence. “Come in.”

Derek and I follow him through the front door and I immediately gravitate closer to Derek. There’s no personality in this house. There’s no pictures, no decor, no nothing. It’s just bleak walls and wooden floors.

We follow Peter through a couple hallways before we make it to an office and Peter sits down.

“Stiles, I’m sorry, but this is something to be discussed between me and Derek, if you don’t mind.” He says, smiling and folding his hands together. I look over at Derek and he nods at me, telling me it’s okay, so I turn and walk outside the door and sit down.

I don’t know how long I’m sitting there on the cold, dusty floor before I hear footsteps and muffled voices coming towards me. There was something about their voice that I recognized, I knew those voices from somewhere.

They walk around the corner and instantly I tense up. Now I know why I recognized those voices. Immediately the memories come back. A bat crashing into my side and the spikes digging up my flesh. I wince at the memory, my hands instinctively going to my sides and feeling the scars under my shirt.

They stop their conversation and turn to look at me, my blood going cold as I look Scarface in the eyes. He smiles at me as he and Daron continue to walk down the hallway. When they pass me I feel Scarface’s claw come out and scrape against my side through my shirt. I flinch away as best as possible before I turn my back to them.

“Derek! I am not to be disobeyed! I am your Alpha!” I hear Peter scream as he follows a fuming Derek who just flung the office door open. Peter’s eyes are red and his claws are out. Derek’s fists are clenched tightly and his eyes are glowing blue. He ignores Peter’s shouts at him to come back and instead grabs my hand and drags me out of the house. We walk for a while until I feel his grip on my hand slowly lighten and I intertwine my fingers with his. I look at him and see a soft smile gracing his lips.

“I told you that you wanted to smile.” I whisper, laughing as he pulls me closer and gives me a soft kiss on my forehead.

“I always smile around you, Stiles.” He whispers, tilting my head up and looking into my eyes.




I woke up later that night with the sound of Derek’s voice floating softly up the stairs through my open door. I get up and quietly walk to the top of the stairs where I can hear his voice more closely.

“Peter, I already told you the answer is no.” He growls, his fingers pressing against the bridge of his nose. He breathes deeply before responding again. “No.” He suddenly tenses up and he pulls his hand away from his face and stares out the window. “I’m not letting you do anything. I let it slide last time but it is never happening again.” He states before hanging up the phone.

He let it slide last time? Does he know what Peter did to me? If he knows what Peter did to me and he’s choosing to ignore it… does that mean nothing between us is real? Did he know that Peter was coming for me before he got me? I feel my blood run cold as I look at Derek. He knows Peter is behind what happened. I know he does. He’s just choosing to ignore it.

“Hey Stiles, what are you doing up?” Derek asks. I look up and see him walking up the stairs and I take a step back. He notices me do it and stops in his tracks. “Hey, is everything okay?” He questions, looking into my eyes with worry.

“Everything’s fine. I just had to pee.” I say, taking a couple steps back before turning and heading back to my room. “Goodnight, Derek.”

I shut my door and lock it before going to my windows and making sure they are locked as well. I’m paranoid now as I lay down in my bed and cover myself up. I keep thinking about what Derek said on the phone with Peter. At the same time, though, you can’t fake the looks Derek gives me, can you? No, there's no way Derek isn’t being honest with his feelings. There’s something there between us.