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Derek has a headache. The endless one that showed up when the super villain nonsense started, his only reprieve being the rush of punching the shit out of someone worse than him. That feeling is the only thing keeping him from killing Peter for getting him into this mess. Well, that and the weight off his shoulders ever since the Argents had been wiped off the map. Nothing could replace that feeling.
Though, he still regretted getting saddled with the villain label when honestly he had only been acting in vengeance rather than desire to cause harm to the general populace. If the heroes knew the twisted acts the Argents had committed then surely they would side with him.
But the world saw the Hales as a front for villainous activity now and that came complete with a surprisingly loyal base of henchmen who flocked to the company his uncle had started several years ago. And now, in true mob boss form, Derek was the head of said company, leaving Peter free to dip whenever he felt like it. Such as right now. No call, no cryptic messages. No blood on the walls sharing his latest revenge plans. Leaving Derek all alone to run a company he hated and with the henchman to stare at him.
Derek had expected him to take off eventually anyways. It had been nearly half a year since they finished wiping out the last of the Argent clan, and Peter had seemed kind of lost in the aftermath. Satisfied beyond belief, but without purpose since the revenge he had been focused on for a decade was laid to rest.
A new hero, The Lone Wolf, a nobody named Scott - if his sidekick’s furious whispers were to be believed - had spiced up those months though. A young man who spoke of peace and slaughtered anyone the second his emotional control was lost. Peter enjoyed riling him up to those points, just to see how the newspapers spin the story when Scott was responsible for 90% of the casualties. Peter seemed intrigued by the sidekick more than the hero though, throwing banter back and forth while Derek easily dodged everyone of Scott’s slashes. Scott and the sidekick had shown up wanting revenge for the death of Scott’s murdered girlfriend, Allison Argent. Upon learning of her killer, Scott made it his goal to capture Derek and his uncle.
Derek found that a laughable thought having easily kept the police and feds away for longer than Scott had had powers.
But regardless, he had many run-ins with the Lone Wolf and Stiles. Who as far as he can tell is simply called Stiles, although he calls himself Batman on occasion, and is the brains of the operation.
He’s been the unwilling audience for many of Peter’s rants about the duo. Which always starts with a dismissive and slightly amused statement about the bumbling idiot of a hero and ends with him complementing Stiles. From his wit, to his hair, to the shape of his butt. It makes Derek want to bang his head through the wall and jump to splatter on the ground below. He is certain his uncle is trying to kill him through explicit descriptions of the sidekick as payment for getting them stuck in the whole Argent mess.
Derek runs his hand through his hair before leaning back in his seat. He had thought supervillianry would be mostly kicking ass and planning dramatic entrances, not piles and piles of paperwork. Running an evil corporation has to be easier than finding a new job though, is the only thing keeping him from running away like his uncle did. Plus being in charge lets him take days off whenever he feels like.
A creaking noise is the only warning before claws tear through the door and rip a giant hole in it. Derek tips his head to the side, casting a bored glare at the intruder. The Lone Wolf stands on the other side, panting and with what seems like blood dripping down the claws extending from his fingers.
“The door was open.” Derek glanced pointedly at the blood pooling on the floor. “What happened to that moral high ground you’re so fond of?” He didn’t bother getting up, without the sidekick around to cause chaos and surprise attacks, the wolf’s blunt way of charging in wouldn’t take more than a few seconds to stop.
Scott stopped, his head tilted like a puppy in confusion, and glanced down.
“They were in my way.”
“I thought killing was “unacceptable for any reason, whatsoever”, as you said just last month, Wolf”
“You were killing innocents.” Derek doesn’t bother stopping his eye roll at the comment.
“And you killed hard workers in a corporation that happens to be evil, it’s not like all the employees go around kicking puppies. Plus I don’t have any ‘henchmen’, as your partner calls them, assigned to stopping intruders. So you just murdered what, a janitor? A few secretaries? Someone getting coffee?” Scott’s shoulders tense up at the secretary comment before he steps forward.
“Look I didn’t come here to discuss your employees -”
“Ah so just ignoring that you go against the commands you lay down so heavily,” Derek smirks as Scott puffs up at the interruption. He waves his hand a bit, “go on. What was your goal beyond killing said employees?”
“Where is Stiles.” Scott’s glare is almost pitiful, in Derek’s opinion, but his words make no sense.
“Stiles? Why on earth would I have your scrawny sidekick?” Derek stands up. “Please don’t tell me you finally pissed him off enough with your crusade to drive him away. He must know you would be dead in a week without him.” His jab hits the perfect spot, Scott almost flinches away at the comment, clearly he has been thinking the same thing.
“He would never abandon me. You have taken him, you’re the only option there is. Who else would be gunning to take me and mine down?” The rage is back, Scott spitting the words out as he leans in on the desk. Derek pulls back in disgust at the spittle landing near his hands.
“I have no need to steal Stiles or any deep feelings towards taking you out,” Derek crosses his arms, reading himself for an attack given Scott’s already unhinged state. “Look I fight you when you show up but that’s it, you’re a pain in my ass with this whole arch nemesis schtick. Plus, Peter much prefers it when Stiles tags along after you, says he makes the fight interesting enough to attend. You should remember, he didn’t bother to help me take down Deucalion's gang when he heard Stiles had the flu. Barely bothered to show up at all that week.” Scott’s glare had wavered during Derek’s talk, but at the mention of Peter suddenly intensified.
“Where is Peter then, if he has such an obsession with Stiles. Maybe he took him.” Derek rolls his eyes again, wishing he had left during lunch instead of suffering through the headache and ending up with this.
“Why would Peter bother. It’s not like he’s been in town since last Tuesday anyways.” Derek sits back down, “Now if you don’t mind, I have a company to deal with.”
“Tuesday?” Scott perks up like a demented puppy, “That’s when Stiles stopped messaging me. Where would he be!”
“Your self proclaimed best friend doesn’t talk to you for over a week and you only bother hunting down leads now? You really have no idea how many awful things can happen in the span of only one day do you.” Derek leans forward, relishing in the dawning horror on Scott’s face, “especially to someone connected to a hero.”
Scott tries to jump the table and grab Derek around the neck. Derek moves his leg and trips the hero, rising fluidly at the same time and using Scott’s momentum to slam him into the wall behind the desk. Derek lifts an unimpressed eyebrow at the furious man.
“Just tell me where he is!” Scott yells at him while his hands tear at Derek’s arm. The claws cutting into the leather of his jacket. Derek glances at it in annoyance, he just got this jacket mended last week.
Derek turns his gaze to Scott.. Takes in the slight tremor running down the hero’s arms and the fear within his eyes. He takes a deep breath, all he had wanted was for his headache to go away but now it has quadrupled in size. Fighting the man would destroy the office and only make the day busier...
“Will it get you to go away?”
“What?”
“If I find and take you to Peter, will you leave me alone?” Derek speaks slowly, unsure if Scott is smart enough to follow a simple question.
“Uh...yeah, yeah sure. I’ll get out of your hair once we find Stiles.” Scott looks confused, Derek is pretty sure this is Scott’s natural state of being.
“Once we find Peter you mean.”
“Sure, once we find Peter.” Derek drops Scott back to the floor and turns back to his computer, bringing up the tracker he had placed in Peter’s phone. Derek is pretty sure Peter only kept it functional to rub in Derek’s face how often he disappeared to fancy places like Rome and Ecuador. How Peter managed to bypass the flight ban on both of them, Derek will never know. Scott isn’t quick on the uptake,
“Aren’t we going now? What are you doing?” The anger is back in his voice and makes Derek want to forget this and go back to strangling the man.
“I’m checking on a tracker to find the man you believe has your precious Stiles.” He keeps the slow phrasing, his doubts about Scott confirmed.
“Oh, you don’t just know where he lives?”
“Scott,” Derek looks over his shoulder to make eye contact, “ you do realize that people go other places than their homes, right? You, for instance, aren’t in your house, and I want to get rid of you as fast as possible so I’d rather not play guessing games.” The tracker dings and Derek puts the coordinates into google maps. Peter’s phone is at a train station 30 minutes away. Derek considers the idea of just sending Scott there himself, but the likelihood is high that Scott will blurt out Derek’s involvement and lead to Peter focusing his rage on him. He turns the monitor towards Scott, “Here’s the address, I’ll meet you there.”
The train station is in a pretty rough shape, clearly abandoned and closed off to the public. Scott pulls up a second later, driving a beaten up, blue jeep that Derek recognizes from around town. Jesus these people need to think through their secret identities more. How is the hero surprised that Stiles was kidnapped when they hardly cover their steps and their masks only cover their eyes. Derek rolls his eyes and walks forward, barely containing a growl when the other man speeds up to walk in line with him.
“Step. Away.”
“Derek, I’m just walking.”
“Do it farther from me.”
They enter the station, walking down dusty staircases that leaves them looking out into a giant room. The ceiling is arched coming down in marble pillars that likely shined beautifully when the station was in use. Sky lights decorate the ceiling, a few of them broken with vines trailing into the room, and keep the room lit up. Life is clear in the room, the floor past the staircases swept clean and sparkly, the cobwebs dusted off and most obviously is the smell of pizza that is at odds with the dust in Derek’s nose. Most notably however, is the giant bed featured in the center of the room. Derek freezes, eyes locked with Peter’s. Scott, unsurprisingly, doesn’t notice.
“Woooah, look at this place! It’s shockingly cle-” Scott cuts himself off when his gaze lands on the bed. Derek glances at him and notices his jaw is still open and stupid looking.
“Scott?!” Stiles jolts up out of the bed, the covers falling to his waist, though thankfully still covering what Derek can tell is the rest of his naked body. Peter, besides him, chuckles but doesn’t bother to sit up any further. “What the fuck are you doing here, man??” Stiles’ voice gets high pitched at the end, making Derek wince.
“Stiles, the little do-gooder was going to find out about us at some point.” Derek tries to ignore the hand that comes up to rub at Stiles’ back, his uncle is comforting someone, what has the world come to. “What did you think he’d say after a week down here?” Peter’s voice turns smug at the end and Scott is turning red, from rage or embarrassment Derek can’t tell. Derek looks to the ceiling to try and forget about the sight in front of him. A useless effort as he can’t manage to deafen himself through willful thinking.
“You have been gone for over a week with no word! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO THINK?” Scott got over his shock and screamed. Derek’s headache is back and the clear answer seems to be strangling the stupid man next to him, Derek holds himself in check hoping to hear something that explains this.
“I told you I was leaving for a while, visiting family in fact, maybe you should have believed that rather than… whatever this is??? Why are you with DEREK HALE?” Derek glances down from the gorgeous marble ceiling when he hears his name, Stiles has pulled on a pair of sweatpants and gotten out of bed at this point. Peter looks disappointed, Derek wants to drink a gallon of vodka. Though, as he processes Stiles’ words, Derek turns to Scott and raises a very judgemental eyebrow. Scott notices.
“He did not tell me that, trust me, I wouldn’t have broken your door for nothing.”
Derek’s judgemental eyebrow turns into a glare. “You also killed several employees for nothing, in case you happened to forget.”
“What?? Scott, you killed someone??” Stiles yelps, tripping over himself trying to put his shoes on.
“Stiles, there is no way you told me you were leaving, I thought you had been kidnapped!” Scott barges right past the murder accussation, as good a sign as guilt as any in Derek’s opinion.
“Scotty, I don’t know what to tell you, I texted you all this on Monday and mentioned it to you that night when we played COD. I have the messages on my phone to prove it.” Stiles is now fully clothed and Peter groans, sitting up to throw on a shirt as well, Derek’s eyes immediately hit the ceiling not wanting to see anything traumatizing. “And you teamed up with Mr. Eyebrows over there to find me? What did you break into his office to ‘get me back from the ‘scary bad man’?” Stiles includes air quotes to get his point through Scott’s thick skull. Scott pulls out his phone and scrolls up several times to get to before his many demands that Stiles pick up. After a minute, he wilts a bit and Derek suddenly hates everything that has led to this moment. He could have remained ignorant, at peace, if only Scott bothered to pay attention to what his supposed best friend said.
When Scott doesn’t seem likely to follow this up with an apology or admitting to being wrong, Derek sighs and look back to his uncle. The man looks very pleased with himself and this is enough to make Derek wish he were still in NYC studying molecular biology.
“Peter. Let me know if you’re coming back eventually, I’m gonna return to running our company. Which happens to be down quite a few members thanks to a claw happy idiot.” Derek turns to walk out the room without waiting for a reply.
As he leaves, Derek can hear the Stiles yelling at Scott about the murder. And Scott’s pitiful defense, how that idiot praises himself a ray of moral goodness Derek can only wonder. He is relieved he left when the conversation turns accusatory as Scott starts in on Peter’s morally grey history.
Derek slides into the car, the door shutting and finally muting out the conversation he wants to drown out of his mind with alcohol. He leans his head against the steering wheel for a second and closes his eyes. New york is only an 8 hour flight, he could be there before the day is over. Hide out in NYC and never come back to this stupid city. Then he lifts his head up and cranks the car.
By the time Derek has pulled into his parking spot at the office, two texts are waiting on his phone. One from Peter’s number that only includes a datel, about a week out from now, and the name Kali. Derek makes a mental note to plan the attack on Kali’s drug smuggling ring for that day.
The second one is from an unknown number that said:
Nice to meet the unsuited version of you, Eyebrows, thanks for helping Scotty get his head out of his ass. Sorry to say I’m fucking your uncle, so I guess I’ll be seeing you around more often ;)
Derek groans, tossing the phone into the passenger seat and dropping his head back to the steering wheel. All he had wanted was to be rid of his headache, that was all he had wanted from the day. How did it go so wrong, so fast?
With a deep, heartfelt sigh Derek pulls lifts his head up and grabs the phone again. He sends a quick email to the janitorial staff about the bodies littering the first and sixth floors of the building. Then he turns the car back on and pulls out of the parking garage. He deserves a vacation.