Chapter Text
He let his guard down. And this is what happened.
Derek has been mentally beating himself up for the last hour and thirteen minutes since he stirred awake. And he has been diligently counting the minutes that go by. It’s easy to do when you don't have anything to look at and you're trapped with just your thoughts.
He is getting soft and soft seems to be making him slow and unaware. Those hunters got a jump on him way too easily. He had been too distracted by thoughts of something happening to Scott. And lingering thoughts of Stiles.
When Scott asked him for a favour, he never thought he would be asking to throw a surprise birthday party for Stiles in his loft. I guess parties at a scene like this were appealing.
“Absolutely not,” Derek had immediately declined. The last glowing-paint rave that occurred in his loft left a stench that took forever to erase. Scott reads his face.
“It would just be a small group. The pack,” Scott specifies.
Derek grunts. Another secret reason he didn't want to was because he wanted to keep his distance from Stiles. Derek noticed how he unconsciously would lock onto Stiles and feelings he wasn't prepared to face uncomfortably bubbled inside him. Situations of physical contact with Stiles were the hardest ones to force his body to calm down from.
Scott continues to push, sensing Derek hesitation, “Please. After the Nogitsune, this would mean a lot to Stiles. It's been awhile since we did something… happy together.”
Derek buckled. And here they all were in his loft waiting for Stiles and Scott to arrive. Derek keeps avoiding Peter in particular because ever since Peter found out, he has been relentlessly picking at Derek. He caught on about Derek’s attraction to Stiles and Derek despises his uncle for it. His constant, stupid sly smile wasn’t helping.
Malia excitedly shouts to everyone, “they’re here!”
And everyone quickly gathers in the centre, waiting for the door to slide open. When it does, Stiles' face is absolutely stunned.
Stiles at a loss of words must be a first, Derek laughs mentally to himself.
But the soft blush hue that warms Stiles' features makes Derek’s heart thump as he cautiously lets his eyes soak him in. Luckily no one in the pack seems to notice and all eyes are locked onto Stiles anyways.
Derek watches everyone give their birthday wishes. He wishes he could do the same and be normal in expressing affection like birthday hugs. Instead he keeps his distance. Everyone knows he struggles to express himself most times. But sometimes, Derek is convinced it serves its purpose.
When Stiles looks in his direction though, his body responds with a glimmer of how he feels. Happy and warm as he nods his head at Stiles. Stiles’ expression shifts ever so slightly as if he reads the underlying feeling within the gesture.
Derek tells himself that he is reading too much into it.
Until their eyes lock when Derek is caught looking at Stiles’ face lit by his birthday cake’s candles. Derek is breathless when he sees Stiles face positively glowing with happiness. It’s a look Derek wants to preserve in his mind forever. That he wants that look to remain on Stiles’ face always.
Clearly, he failed to do that and now there is a bag over his head. He knows Stiles is to the left of him and Peter on his right. Scott is next to Stiles.
He senses Stiles’ heart rate pick up on the edge of falling into a panic attack.
“Stiles, calm down.” He says as levelly as he can.
“Derek! Oh…so glad I'm not alone,” he hears Stiles heart rate slow down a fraction with relief.
Derek can't prevent his natural dry tone as he responds, “Yeah well, not sure I’m all that glad to be hanging here with a bag over my head either.”
“Of course not…hey wait, you know me from my heartbeat?” Derek hears Stiles shift and Derek is caught off guard. Derek mentally pictures Stiles lifted eyebrows in amazed curiosity with a smug smile at being specially recognized.
Derek tries to recover by brushing it off, “Stiles. I'm a werewolf and have gotten pretty good at knowing the cadence of familiar heartbeats. Not to mention yours usually sounds like a threatened rabbit.”
“So you do eat rabbits…”
“Stiles!” Derek barks. “We are kidnapped and this is how you act?” He already knows it’s Stiles personality and, if he was being honest with himself, it is something he actually liked about him. But right now, Derek is both frustrated and concerned. Of course, Stiles still responds how Derek imagined he would.
He confirms with Stiles that both Scott and Peter are here but still unconscious with an influence from wolfsbane.
However, Derek’s body tenses as he senses an intruder just before a man’s loud voice booms into the room. It shocks Stiles by the way he jumps.
The exchange between their abductor and Stiles makes him uneasy. This man’s chemo signals reeked of someone with a dark, sinister character. Someone naturally inclined to enjoy hurting others and horrible disregard of life. Total lack of humanity.
It’s clear who the real monster is.
As the man makes physical contact with Stiles Derek tenses and his stomach churns. This isn't good. He needs to break the man’s attention on Stiles.
“So what do you want with us,” Derek works his way into the conversation with a redundant question. Of course he knows the jist already.
“Well, we successfully rounded up werewolves of course. Big pay days ahead.”
Yup, sounds about right, Derek thinks, but instead he settles for a scoff. He hears the hunter moving in the room and a cock of a gun. Shit.
“Doesn't mean we can't have fun with you lot while we wait,” and before he knows it, Derek feels a bullet penetrate his thigh and hears Stiles yelling.
The bullet is laced with wolfsbane, but he knows it is not life threatening. If anything, the shot is solely for a show of power. Doesn't mean it hurts any less and he grits his teeth, feeling his alpha morph out of him with his canines growing sharp. Unfortunately concealed by the damn bag over his head.
The man questioning about the birthday cake in his loft is another sore this man prods. It wasn't that long ago they were having a happy time together. Stiles' bitter and angry admission of it being his birthday and of it being ruined makes Derek cringe. If getting kidnapped wasn't terrible enough, getting kidnapped on your birthday is worse.
However, when he hears the gun cocking again and Stiles’ heart spikes followed by his failing to communicate his lack of being a werewolf, Derek knows the gun is being pointed at Stiles.
“Stop! He isn't a werewolf. He is a human,” Derek growls in a panic. As much as he appreciates his hearing, he really wished he could see. All he knows is the trigger was not pulled, but there's also no change in the hunter’s heart rhythm. This alarms him and he knows that this hunter is not surprised so he must already–
“Of course, I know he is a human. A very stupid human for thinking he could run with werewolves. He must be the pack’s bitch.”
Derek is livid. His alpha teeth grind together and his lips tremble in an angry snarl. This is not good.
And it only gets worse when Stiles' defense mechanism is to bite back. And even with how Derek feels about Stiles, it doesn't stop him from wanting to hit the guy sometimes. And the hunters' amusement about the interactions unfolding is a big reason for Derek to want Stiles to shut up.
Stiles’ heart rate and demeanour change drastically and without seeing Derek can intimately feel the shift in the air. It was sexual.
Derek’s heart plummets down to his stomach twisting in the worst, painful knot. This feeling was the same when he held Paige dying in his arms. Helplessness.
He is so consumed with this feeling that the next thing he realizes is Stiles getting pelted by water from a hose on full blast. Scott and Peter are now alive, making their own remarks and struggling against their similar bindings.
Unfortunately, when Stiles is nervous, he talks even more. He is digging himself into a deeper hole and Derek is helpless to stop it.
“Stiles. Stop. Talking.” Derek’s command is harsh and he jerks against his chains. His claws are embedded into his palm drawing blood. All Derek can do is listen and let Stiles’ heart relay the unfolding events. Stiles’ chemo signals radiate stress, anxiety… uncomfortable fear. So much gut wrenching fear.
Between that and the hunters casual, “not bad,” tells Derek that the hunter is intimately checking Stiles out.
Derek’s heart dips into a dark place. This man is going to hurt someone he cares about only a few paces away from him. “Stop what you are doing. This will not end well for you,” the thought of ripping this man’s throat out where he stands flashes vividly into Derek’s mind.
“No, it won't end well for your human pack bitch,” the hunter doesn't sway and clearly isn’t threatened by Derek. It’s infuriating, but more than that, it's terrifying because he isn't going to stop. And it won’t end well for Stiles.
Derek hears Stiles do what he can to fight back, but when Stiles is yelling as he is being dragged on the ground, Derek is losing it. There is nothing he can do, everything he says encourages this psycho and gets Stiles closer to the inevitable.
The inevitable. Derek wants to hurl. He is confined and about to witness Stiles – funny, smart, spaztic, attractive, glowing-by-his-birthday-candles-only-a-few-hours-ago Stiles, get abused in a way no one should ever.
His eyes are wet. Derek can’t remember the last time he has cried, but tears well up in his eyes under this stupid damn bag with an amazing thread count. He wants to block out the struggles he hears, but also…he won’t let Stiles be alone.
Derek tries to jerk his body up, thinking if he can just get enough momentum, he might get his chains over the hook above his head. Clearly the hunter took Stiles down with ease, it shouldn't be that hard to do the same. Harder thought than done.
“You know, I can see why you keep him part of the pack, but his beauty really shines,” and Derek hears flesh hitting flesh, “with some bruises on his face.”
“I will kill you. You won't live after hurting my friend.” Scott’s own anger emits his shared will to kill.
But Derek’s heart actually crumbles when he hears Stiles’ voice mumble with embarrassment, shame and realization of his fate. “Hey… n-not in front of them.”
Oh god. Derek is actually going to be sick. He shakes and wishes for a divine intervention to stop this man. He waits for it, but it comes too late.
“You want me to fuck you in private? Away from your so-called friends?” he shouts. “Look at me when I am talking to you, Stiles.” Derek hates how the hunter says Stiles’ name. He hates everything about this man’s existence. And he doesn’t think he could feel any more insane with anger until he hears the hunter mock, “No…I think we should do this as a pack.” Followed by a zipper being aggressively pulled down.
Derek is overwhelmed by emotions riding through him. He is growling uncontrollably.
Why him? Derek desperately demands. Directed at who he doesn't know. Stiles always gets dragged into situations that abuse the only human in the pack. Never in this way though.
The physical contact of the hunter pressed against Stiles who struggles is coming into Derek more than just a sound. It is as if the sound is something he can see.
He sees Stiles’ face pushed into the ground with his pants being forced down. The hunter on top of him has a smug look of satisfaction, enjoyment from the fight and his chest puffed like he has won.
Stiles grounds out, “you bastard,” only a moment before the hunter takes him. Derek’s own body clenches in response as he practically feels the man fuck cruelly into Stiles. Stiles yells with so much pain attached to each chord that enters Derek’s ear.
The sex sounds rough. The hunter aggressively thrusts and Stiles tries his best not to make any sounds, but it's not possible with his tormentors’ ambition to make him hurt and make his hurt felt by everyone in this room.
“I guess I was wrong about pack bitch. Definitely a virgin ass…” Derek roars over the hunters pleasured moan.
Derek’s eyes are closed and yet the images he receives from sound, smell, and emotional senses are as if his eyes are open with no bag over his head. Playing events in his mind that he can't stop repeating. Stiles’ flannel is wet and bunched up, exposing his curved and lean muscular back. His arms are bent above his head, hands intensely clenched and wrists pulled taunt against the metal cuffs cutting into his skin. His gorgeous face is bruised, bleeding and scrunched with pain…and embarrassment.
It is the thought that Stiles will never be the same again that makes Derek unable to stop an audible sob. He immediately attempts to cover it up with a growl, but he honestly doesn't care who hears him. Stiles was the one Derek wanted to protect, yearned to touch and dreamed of being around more even though he prevented himself.
Derek cherished the moments he would get with Stiles even if he outwardly didn't show it.
Slapping sex sounds comingle with Stiles pained gasps, groans and, eventually, continuous yells until he voice is a weak rasp. Now he is sobbing and it breaks Derek’s heart. He knows the others are affected too and are shocked with how this could be taking place. How Stiles could be a few feet away from them and unable to stop the abuse.
The smell of climax is nauseating and the insincere, “Happy…fuckin’...birthday!” brings an acidic taste of vomit in the back of Derek’s mouth. The man shoves himself off of Stiles before walking to the far left to approach Scott.
“Scott…your friend, Stiles…he is so good. I can see why you keep your human pet.” Scott lets out a painful alpha howl, conveying his hurt and fury.
Derek senses the hunter walk in front of him bringing potent smells of blood and sex. Then his hand slaps against his chest, making his whole body tremble. Not with fear, but with rage.
“Derek…probably the biggest shame, because I had, and will always have had, Stiles’ first time,” the hunter’s evil words evoke the darkest part of Derek to emerge.
Derek tersely states, “I will find you and I will kill you. Slowly. Painfully. Until you beg me to stop.” And as Derek’s fist squeezes even tighter, blood gushes from his palms down to his wrists that are also steadily bleeding from the restraints and his constant struggles.
The hunter carelessly uses his hand to push away with an amused huff and makes his last visit to Peter.
“And Peter… I know you’ve always wanted to take Stiles like I just did.” The crack of the hunter’s nose splitting is far from enough satisfaction. It would never be enough until he was tortured to death and even then he isnt sure.
His laugh is ugly and twisted. “Look at you three pathetic beasts with bags over your heads and leashed like dogs.” And Derek can tell he is walking back over to Stiles and he tenses again with worry.
Equally he senses Stiles' heart jumps with fear as the man touches him. Derek visualizes the dark haired boy weakly flinching away, his eyes dark with physical and mental anguish.
“Rest up now and we will do this again later.”
No…no way. It can't happen again, Derek’s mind spirals. A dark realization that this man could and would do this as many times as he wishes. There is nothing stopping him. Derek swallows hard. He is desperate to do something before anything further happens.
The scraping of metal on the ground jars Derek back. He hears Stiles’ shuffling and…begging.
“P-please. Don't.”
The hunter’s heart rhythm does not change a single beat and Derek jerks as soon as he hears the metal swinging in the air. Stiles yells like a roar, “NO!” just before it is cut off by the impact making contact and breaking bones. Stiles’ human bones. Then Stiles’ immediate scream reverberates within his own body and bones.
Derek hears Scott audibly crying and Derek chokes on his own sobs again as he slams his head back into the cement pillar repeatedly.
Stiles is sobbing and struggling to stay conscious. He doesn't stay awake for very long and for once, Derek is so very glad.
“Don't try to go anywhere, Stiles.” All the werewolves rumble with growls in unison ready to pounce at any open opportunity to shred this man to pieces.
A few minutes after the hunter leaves, Scott grits out in frustration,“What are we going to do?” But, what haven't they tried to do in their limited mobility?
Derek’s eyes are closed with a wet seal. His face is damp, unable to dry his tears and sweat trapped in the heat of this bag over his head. Even though Stiles is unconscious, he feels waves of pain emitting from his body. His restless body is on edge while his mind has switched off.
Behind his eyes Derek forces to remember images of Stiles smiling, laughing, mouthing off sarcastic remarks, making his naturally interrogatory facial expressions, and just being Stiles. Derek increasingly had a hard time being alone with Stiles. Unable to admit any feelings he felt and instead took to avoiding them by finding distractions. Terrible distractions like Jennifer Blake.
One of the best and most terrible moments with Stiles was the night they were trapped in the pool. Jackson’s body was consumed by the Kanima leaving Stiles to tread water in a pool, barely keeping himself and Derek above water. Derek was actually thankful to be paralyzed. Of course, if he hadn't been paralyzed, they wouldn't have been in the pool, but… it also allowed him to be in the pool with Stiles close to him. His body was unable to respond to the contact as it would later that night in private. Even though Stiles had let go of him twice - once which caused Derek to go into the pool and the second to try to call Scott - Stiles held onto him to keep them both afloat. The close proximity of their bodies making contact in ways they wouldn't normally. And, yeah, Stiles was freaking out, so his undivided attention was tracking Jackson, allowing Derek to focus on Stiles. Up close, he could see every freckle, every hair follicle, and his unconscious lip and face movements. Of course glistening wet with water making it that much more desirable. In their contact, Derek could feel Stiles grabbing his body close to his own, and feel Stiles’ accelerated heart rate. Stiles’ hot puffs of his breath brushing against his cheek along with pool water ejecting from his mouth as it slipped by his struggles. All Stiles. So close and in each other's space. The memory has regularly contributed to Derek’s long list of fantasies he has had about the teen.
Derek’s thoughts are broken, his ears picking up the hunter entering a different room upstairs with another person in it. He carefully tunes into the conversation.
“What chaos have you been causing?”
“Ah, just making sure our guests received a warm welcome.”
The other hunter makes a gruff ‘hmph’ in response before saying, “taking the human wasn't necessary.”
“Yeah, I know. But it's been fun getting the pups all riled up. Plus you don't often see humans hanging out with werewolves.”
“Well now we have a liability on our hands. He can't just leave,” the other hunter sounds annoyed.
“Relax. When the client arrives for the pups, I’ll kill and dispose of his body myself, alright?”
There is a heavy sigh, but a returned sceptical response of, “you better.”
Derek visibly jerks, his eyes flying open as his senses return to his close surroundings. Judging by the similar reaction from Scott and Peter, he knows they heard the exchange too.
They have to get free. He has to get Stiles out of here.
“We need him to get up and come to Scott or me,” Derek breaks the silence lingering in the room.
“Oh and how is he supposed to do that, Derek. Kid isn't exactly in walking condition,” Peter says with a dark, realistic mindset.
“It’s the only way,” Derek bites back.
“Yeah… yeah. It won't be easy, but if Stiles can..” Scott distantly says almost as if to convince himself.
“Well, better get him up,” Peter remarks with a weary sigh. Derek vaguely wonders if Peter is trying to spare Stiles the agony of being awake.
He hates what he has to do. Derek grits his teeth and attempts to level his voice when he calls out, “Stiles…” he swallows hard. “Stiles, you need to get up.”
But he doesn't get a response. No sound or movement. Alarmingly, it has become harder for Derek to tell if he is conscious or not. But there isn't time to delay, this may be the only window of time. Derek doesn't know if the others are thinking the same thing, but Derek knows what has to be done. Knows the only way Stiles is getting out of here at least alive is if he receives the bite. His mind races with worry.
Unintentionally, Derek’s eyes flash red under the bag and he barks, “Stiles. Get up now!” Derek clenches his eyes and fists as he mentally punches himself in the face by how much he sounds like an insensitive dick. But the hunters have no intentions of letting Stiles go and he really needs him to move.
Derek senses Scott inhaling to yell at Derek but then they hear a small, pained groan from Stiles.
Derek swallows dryly and wonders numbly how much pain Stiles is in. Unfortunately, if Stiles does make it to him or Scott, they wouldn't be able to put their hands on him to take away any of his pain. Derek would in a heartbeat. The process of absorbing pain replicates the pain the other feels. Therefore, the exact pain coursing through Stiles now, would be able to transfer to Derek and he would attempt to take every ounce of it. It's not a reality, but he would do it if the opportunity presented itself.
He can sense how stiff Stiles’ movements are as he begins to move. Derek is anxious, but knows Stiles is trying and all he can hope is that the hunter will stay away long enough. Derek is still trying to come to terms with himself on what he is going to do. Scott will hate it. As for Stiles…well Derek isn't certain.
“C’mon man, you got this,” an innocent gesture of encouragement from Scott, but Derek cringes at it because he knows the pressure Stiles is already under and his response is how he predicted.
It shocks Scott into silence. Unfortunately, Derek senses the dread and skyrocketing anxiety Stiles feels once his voice erupts and then his heart rate picks up as a fast build of panic rushes into the teen.
“It isn't in you anymore, Stiles. It's gone.” Derek does his best to keep his voice calm to hopefully rub off. As he hears Stiles heart rate falter before coming back down a bit, but now he needs to get him to keep going. So Derek painfully, but gently says, “You are just tired and in a lot of pain right now. And I hate to say this, but I need you to come to me.”
Derek breathes again when he hears Stiles resume his movement. After some time, the movements become bigger and suggest he is preparing to make his way over. The choked groans and hitched breath is all the sign Derek needs to indicate how much pain is coursing through his body.
Then Derek hears heavy, clumsy jumps towards his direction. He honestly can't believe how Stiles is finding the power to do this, but that is Stiles for you. Stubborn, strong and…selfless.
Derek parts his lips when he feels how close Stiles is to him, but still not closing the final gap. He is about to say something until he feels Stiles crash and cling to his body. In any other situation, this contact would have been a dream come true, but it isn't and Stiles is feebly holding on to what seems like for dear life.
“Hey, hey, you got it,” Derek instinctually whispers down to Stiles. The contact does give Derek a moment of relief until he brings his mind back to the game plan. To bite Stiles.
Derek swallows firmly and gently makes his request, “Stiles, you need to remove the bag from my head.”
He can hear how Stiles is breathing heavily as he tries to recuperate, but Derek can feel his head spinning with questions. Finally, Stiles has enough air to rasp, “I think I can… but don't you think I should, like, try to get you down?”
“I'm sure if you had two legs you could, but the bag is going to be the next best option.” Derek cautiously states, wondering when the pieces will click for everyone in the room. It has for Peter already.
‘Shit,’ the frustration emitting from Stiles was potent and he knows what he is saying is confusing him. But it's confirmed when Stiles weakly grinds his forehead into Derek’s chest and bites, “what is taking the bag off your head going to do if I can't get you down?”
“Trust me, Stiles. You do, don't you?” Derek isn't sure it will work, but he hopes Stiles does trust him at least as a friend.
There is an audible swallow before Derek feels Stiles working the bag off and over Derek’s head.
Just before the bag is removed though, Derek is eagerly waiting with his eyes open to see Stiles. To finally connect his sight to Stiles. So when the bag is removed, this moment of complete connectedness is felt between himself and Stiles. Stiles is looking right back at Derek as the bag is removed. He is filled with so much desire to wrap his arms around him.
But seeing him is good for now and Derek can't stop a smile tug at his lips, “Good. That's good.” And he looks closely at Stiles seeing past all the abuse and still recognizing the person he secretly admires, cherishes, and, dare he say, loves. But a pang of guilt quickly surfaces, pushing his desire to stare endlessly at Stiles down because he is faced with the harsh reality. Give Stiles the bite which will help or kill him.
He breathes out heavy, but starts as best as he can, “Now. I…I can’t see another option. I know-”
“Derek! Don’t! It might kill him.” Finally Scott is catching on, but it's a little too late and there aren't any other options.
Derek can’t prevent his fuming frustration bubbling up as he whips his head at Scott and snarls, “and if I don’t? They will still kill him. You know it as well as I do.” He closes his eyes, calming himself back down before slowly turning his head back to Stiles, “at least this way you have a chance.”
Slowly Stiles' eyes wander down to look at Derek’s shirt, surely putting together what Derek is implying and softly he breathes out a reply, “a gift of the bite…”
Derek looks down at the dark tuft of hair just under his nose. Stiles hair is crusted with dirt and blood making it point it in all sorts of directions. That hair is attached to a head and that head is no doubt swirling with questions and concerns.
Eventually Stiles lifts his head and locks eyes with Derek and Derek finds himself swallowed up by those amber eyes again. Stiles’ eyes are filled with questions and without a word Derek answers with his, ‘I don't know, but it's your choice. I only want to protect you.’
Completely enchanted, Derek fails to sense the approaching hunter who breaks the spell with his loud, abrupt entrance. Derek immediately jerks and, if he wasn't restrained, he would have put his body in front of Stiles.
As the hunter moves into the room his voice is wicked, “I wouldn't do that if I were you. See when you were out Stiles, I made sure nothing could jeopardize your human form. I injected mountain ash into your system.”
“What?” Derek’s stomach hits the floor and his alpha instincts take over in a threatening growl that is seething with anger.
“Yeah, I didn't want you poisoning him like you were about to do now.” Derek’s stomach churns as the only string of hope slips away and the hunter tuts, “now Stiles, I told you not to move. Come back over here.”
All of sudden Stiles surges further into Derek. His eyes shoot right up into Derek’s with a pained, panicked grimace, “Just do it.” Derek can’t move, only stare at Stiles and at where he wants him to give him a bite of certain death. A strange, unfamiliar sensation rises in this throat and it doesn't feel like a growl as much as a choked, heated sob.
Derek’s body temperature feels like it's overheating and his normally controlled heartbeat is now fluttering. This will kill Stiles. But wasn't he prepared to risk that possibility before? Stiles was going to die if he didn't do it and there was hope he would survive the bite. But now he will surely die and Derek is hesitating. If he doesn’t bite Stiles, he will be subjected to further abuse, raped who knows how many more times, and then killed.
Derek’s eyes start to water. He hasn't felt anything this close to uncontrollable terror and sadness since he was forced to kill Boyd and let Paige die in his arms.
Derek’s anxiety spikes when he hears the hunter lose his patience and huffs, “fine, I’ll come to you.” The hunter isn’t concerned with time, and if anything he enjoys his casual stroll over to watch the teen and werewolf panic.
“Derek, do it,” Stiles directly looks at Derek with a level of fear Derek hasn't seen before. After everything they have been through nothing compares to this. Their eye contact is disconnected as Stiles whips his head to check on the approaching hunter.
As the distance drastically diminishes, Stiles' body shoves into Derek’s and then says again in more of a forceful yell, “do it now!”
The overwhelming noises of activity loudly fill Derek’s mind as he struggles internally. Derek closes his eyes painfully tight as he opens his mouth exposing alpha teeth. Ready to purposely kill Stiles.
Derek feels like he is dying himself as images flash in his mind. All of Stiles. The good, bad, funny, sad, scary and intimate moments he shared with Stiles.
Multiple gunshots erupt into the room and Derek’s eyes fly open. Instantly he smells blood and sees the hunter fall followed by the familiar scents of the Sheriff and Argent well behind. Then immediately he looks down at Stiles, checking him over.
The sight is frightening, with blood sprayed on Stiles’ face and over Derek, but he eventually determines no stray bullets have wounded Stiles. That bullet lodged last minute into the hunter saved Derek from a place he would not be able to return from.
All of a sudden his thoughts stop. He feels Stiles against him, pressing his bloodied face into his chest and gradually leaning more weight into his side. The exhaustion is trembling off Stiles, but more than that, he is…shying away in shame. Derek notices the Sheriff yelling his only child’s name with concern as he swiftly moves over.
Derek’s throat seizes up again. The hunter may be dead but the life-long effects remain.
Derek won’t let Stiles go through it alone. And then it dawns on him, nothing would change how he feels about Stiles and he would stand by him in all his joy or pain. He needs to do what he is terrible at doing.
“Stiles, nothing changes how we will feel about you. Nothing changes how I feel about you…Your dad, Scott, Peter won’t change either.” Derek impresses himself by expressing his thoughts clearly for the most part even if more thoughts are pent up inside. It is a well-known fact how Derek lacks the quality of talking and expressing himself beyond what his eyebrows silently say or with grunts. But now was not the time to fail. He needed to be supportive and that would involve being open.
Stiles’ softly and briefly releases sob vibrates in his chest. He slowly lifts his head revealing those dark, deep eyes, which lock into Derek’s eyes. It's almost like Stiles is confirming Derek’s words. Reaffirming it through his eyes.
Derek sees the fresh wounds - a gash above his eyebrow, two splits on lips, black eye forming around his red lined eyes, and a bruise poking up from the collar of his shirt which surely trails down to other wounds not visible.
Derek hopes Stiles sees. Sees the truth in everything he said and things Derek still hasn't said…yet. He promises to help Stiles whatever it takes.
Stiles’ eyes slightly roll back as his eyelids flutter and now Derek is feeling the lean of his body sliding away. “Hey! Stiles,” he immediately barks, unable to move of course as he watches Stiles hit the floor.
“Stiles!” Derek isn't even sure who called out Stiles’ name because everyone is animatedly moving or making noises.
Chris Argent jumps into action by breaking Scott free. Once the specialized metal cuffs are released from Scott’s wrists, Chris hastily makes his way to Derek leaving Scott clawing at the bag over his head until he also runs over.
The Sheriff is already at Stiles’ side, taking mental note of the abuse and tersely looking up at Derek to find answers without words.
Derek finds it hard to look back, but he does. Unconsciously his teeth are grinding together as he holds strong. He knows he didn't do this, but part of him thinks he is still to blame. That Stiles' association with werewolves as a human put him in this position. That being around three werewolves with none of them strong enough to protect Stiles. What's worse is that these were just humans. Cruel, worthless humans by genetics, but truly monsters.
Scott and Chris promptly get Derek released. Then Scott crumbles next to Stiles to help the Sheriff assess and offer to pick him up.
Derek doesn't move once he is free. He really wants to be the one to kneel next to Stiles, to check on him and finally wrap his arms around him, touch him to take away pain and to lift him out of here as fast as possible.
But a firm hand on his shoulder makes him turn and Chris looks squarely at him, almost as if he understands, but says, “C’mon, I’ll need your help getting Peter down.”
Chris turns and makes his way over to Peter. Derek looks back once more to Stiles to see that his father and best friend are taking delicate care of him. He is in good hands. Better hands than him.
Derek’s heart throbs painfully as he turns and joins Chris in releasing Peter.
Peter surprisingly looks at Derek mournfully. As much as Peter had and continues to act on selfish intentions, the part in him that cares for a pack still lingered deep within. And though it was never spoken, Peter has always been good at reading Derek. It has been a silent secret between them both how Stiles has a special place in Derek’s heart.
It becomes too unbearable for Derek, so he glances away back over to the shuffling behind him. Scott is exerting his alpha strength to carefully manoeuvre Stiles with minimal physical pain being elicited.
All the internal organs in Derek’s body pang again. He deeply wonders if that feeling will ever go away now when he looks at Stiles.
Gently, but quickly Scott walks towards the exit with the Sheriff a few paces ahead to monitor and guide the way.
Since it was uncertain what they’d find, Chris and the Sheriff had taken two vehicles. Scott loads into the back of the Sheriff’s police car with Stiles. The Sheriff closes the back door before giving a distressed, but sincere nod at the three gentlemen in front of him.
“I’ll be taking him to the hospital,” he says numbly and lacking anything else to say. So he rocks into the driver’s seat, starts his car before driving away.
Chris gestures with his head to his car, “jump in. I can take you to the hospital.”
“That wont be necessary.” Derek says more coldly than he wants. It sounds like he doesnt care at all about Stiles when it is the complete opposite.
Both Peter and Chris show their subtle expressions of surprise by his response.
“This place isnt too far, but how will you g-”
“Just go, Argent.” Derek bites. He shakes his head regretting his tone. “Look, we will go by our own means.”
Chris lets out a sigh before clenching his jaw again, “suit yourselves.”
Then he jumps into his black sedan before following where the Sheriff had gone only moments earlier.
“Derek, why won't you g-”
“Listen.”
Peter stills. Both of them are silent and the air around them is lightly filled with sounds of night.
Tha-dump. Tha-dump.
When it clicks, Peter’s eyes go wide. There is a heartbeat still inside the warehouse.
Derek is dark with vengeance before stalking back into the warehouse, honing onto the heartbeat as it increases in loudness and in speed.
The heart knows they are after revenge.