Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/ works/1326100. Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage Category: M/M Fandom: Teen_Wolf_(TV) Relationship: Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski/Stuart_Stilinski Character: Derek_Hale, Sheriff_Stilinski, Stiles_Stilinski, Stuart_Stilinski Additional Tags: Stilinski_Twins, Incest, Werewolf_Stiles_Stilinski, Oral_Sex, Violence Series: Part 5 of Sex_is_Violent Stats: Published: 2014-03-17 Words: 5610 ****** Hero Fantasy ****** by GiggleSnortBangDead Summary Derek took a step forward and there was some loud bang and flash and splitting pressure in his chest. His shirt felt wet and someone yelled for a second before their voice was muffled by someone else's hand. The night was already dark and Derek was having an even harder time seeing - and now standing - and now breathing. It was only in collapsing that he could feel anything really start to hurt. Luckily for him, he blacked out quickly and soon felt absolutely nothing at all. Notes So, this is part of a series - if you want to check that out before coming here, that might be a good idea. Notes on character death at the end, if it's worrying you. This is it, guys. See the end of the work for more notes After a minute, they started driving and neither of them said much else. Derek didn't ask where they were going - didn't need to - because where else could they go? The radio was off and the windows were rolled down once they were far enough away for there to be no lingering scent of burning. Wind blew by them, and Derek let his hot eyes close for a second in fatigue or stress or maybe sorrow. Only when they were almost to the Stilinski house did the Sheriff say, "I don't know what's going to happen. What's important is we separate them and get Stiles somewhere safe. Somewhere - Away." "Yeah," Derek said, voice eaten up by the roaring wind. He didn't think it mattered if the Sheriff heard him or not. "Can I count on you to do the right thing?" the Sheriff asked, eyes pulling away from the road to the younger man's face for a quick half-second. Derek swallowed and nodded, even though he only sort of knew what that meant. "I mean it, Derek. If I choke - " and suddenly, Derek knew exactly what was being asked of him. "I thought you said we'd try to get him help." Derek rasped. "Put him away somewhere." And the older man fixed him in his gaze for maybe a moment too long. He looked back at the road, and Derek felt his stomach sink even lower. Quietly, without any spirit, the Sheriff said, "It'd be nice if it could come to that." As Derek regarded him, watching the way he white-knuckled the wheel and didn't look at him again, he almost missed them turning onto the right street and the unexpected activity in front of the house. The Sheriff uttered a quiet, cut off "What?" that he might not have even noticed himself saying, and Derek's attention snapped forward. They were very quickly closing in on the two figures shocked still in the driveway. Stuart had a full bag slung over his shoulder, his other hand wound tight around his twin's arm, as if he had been dragging the other boy towards his Jeep. Stiles's mouth was open, his eyes wide, seeming confused as he stared at his father's rapidly approaching cruiser. He looked exhausted, and he was paler than Derek had really thought possible. Stuart just looked pissed and tried to pull Stiles to the car with renewed haste. When Stiles, weak and dazed enough to be unwieldy, just stood dumb in place, Stuart dropped the bag on the ground and started to frantically go through it. The Sheriff pulled in, and Derek was out of the car before the cruiser came to a full stop. "Stiles, are you okay?" he asked, rushing towards the boy as his brother was otherwise distracted, still digging through his bag. "Stiles, come with me." "Derek, what are you doing here?" he asked, as if he wasn't even really sure what he, himself, was doing there. His father was out of the car in the next instant, and Stiles's expression morphed into one of even hazier confusion. "Dad?" "Stiles, step away from - " "Both of you, stay back." Stuart said, now straightening up, gun retrieved and raised from the bag, trailing between the two men. Stiles glanced over and gaped. "Come on, Stu, put it down." he said, like he didn't really believe it was happening. "Stiles, just come to us." the Sheriff repeated, a hand outstretched. "Dad, back the fuck off." Stuart growled, eyes blazing yellow in the early morning dark. "Stu, please, don't." Stiles hushed, only to be ignored thoroughly. "Stiles, come - " Derek took a step forward and there was some loud bang and flash and splitting pressure in his chest. His shirt felt wet and someone yelled for a second before their voice was muffled by someone else's hand. The night was already dark and Derek was having an even harder time seeing - and now standing - and now breathing. It was only in collapsing that he could feel anything really start to hurt. Luckily for him, he blacked out quickly and soon felt absolutely nothing at all. =============================================================================== He came to slowly, groaning and covered in his own dried blood, his chest having stitched itself back together already. "So stupid." someone was saying softly, and his voice was such a relief to hear that Derek hardly noticed the negative statement at first. "You're such an idiot. I told you - Both of you - No one listens to me." Derek opened his eyes, careful because the room was so bright. He tried to move his arms - which he could not - and then his legs - which were similarly restrained. His gaze was full of Stiles, though, who was whole and standing and alive. "You're okay." he managed out, in awe. He wanted to sob in relief, because it was a miracle, and Stiles's cool hand on his cheek felt almost like as much of a Godsend as his survival did. The boy's eyes flared yellow in a spark of anger, and Derek was so happy Stiles could still feel sparks of anger, even if his amber eyes should have stayed their color until Stiles consented to changing them. "I'm not okay." he hissed, eyes flickering and then maintaining the glow, like he couldn't control it. "I'm furious." And Derek, realizing he was a little lightheaded, his chest having been hollowed and then rebuilt as it had, tried to raise his hand to touch Stiles's face and shush him. He wanted to provide comfort like Stiles had. He struggled for a few seconds and looked down to see the ropes still securing him to a chair It was all rather grounding as he looked back up to Stiles. "Let me go. Please." Derek said softly. "We can help you." and when that didn't work, he tried, "You know what he could do to us." "No," Stiles spat, "No, you don't get to say that." and he turned away to fish something off the table. "You shouldn't even be here," he murmured, coming back with a gag - and Derek, forgetting his situation, was momentarily shocked that Stiles just had one on hand. He proceeded to feel like an idiot and clamped his jaw shut. Stiles sighed, looking so worn out, eyes back to pretty brown. "Please make this easy for me, Derek. Its the least you could do." Derek kept his mouth shut tight and looked away, only to see that the Sheriff was also bound and silenced - because the boys seemed to have an abundance of toys, gags included. Stiles got a hand under his chin but didn't force. He gently lead Derek's gaze back to his face. "Please, don't make this hard." he begged softly. "This is hard enough for me as it is. Please," he said, seeming to get a little desperate the longer Derek kept his mouth shut. "Just - it'll be better. You won't say anything wrong. Stu won't have to hurt anyone." There must have been a noticeable softening around the corners of Derek's mouth because Stiles gave him a weak smile and encouraging nod. After one more static moment, Derek opened his mouth slowly. Stiles exhaled in relief, like his breath had been caught inside him. Without hesitation, Stiles was leaning down, cupping Derek's face in his hands like he was something precious and pressing quick, chaste kisses on and around his lips, breathing, "Thank you, thank you." Derek accepted the ball of the gag between his teeth when it was offered and made a small, unintentional noise when Stiles kissed him thanks one more time on his upper cheek, just above the strap. He tore himself away when they heard Stu starting to approach the room. Stuart looked all too pleased when he walked in, and Stiles was instantly at his side, saying nothing but threading his hand with the other boy's. In Stu's free hand, he held the gun he'd shot Derek with. Stuart gave his brother a smug look and kissed him, slow and loud, sucking on his twin's tongue in a way that could only be described as filthy. Derek averted his gaze by looking at the Sheriff, who, in turn, averted his gaze by staring solemnly at his lap. When the smacking sounds stopped, Derek looked up and right into Stuart's eyes, which were fixed on him, narrowed and yellow. His arm was curled possessively around his brother. It was a few moments before he spoke. "Well," he said, sounding chipper. "This is a little awkward, isn't it?" Stiles looked down at his feet and Stuart gave his ass a loving squeeze and pat before stepping away, gesturing between them with his gun. "You know, all of us together. Me. Dad. Stiles. Stiles's boyfriend. I mean, just throw in one more guy - like a relative - like someone's uncle - and we'd have a full house." He grinned at Derek, his expression cold, his teeth bared. "But, he's not here, is he? And you're not my Alpha now, which means that Daddy Dearest was the one who did it." Stuart took a step closer to his father, bending down a little so they were level. "How'd you do it, Daddy?" He paused, searching his face for an answer. He murmured. "I bet I know how. I bet you blew his fucking brains out all over Derek's shitty, uncarpeted floor." And, straightening up, he raised the gun to the man's face, holding it steady for a moment. His father only jerked once, as if surprised, and then simply eyed it warily, his cheek turned. Stu's intense face broke and he laughed, aiming away and raising his hand as if in surrender. Turning, he walked to the coffee table where the Sheriff's gun had been placed and set his own piece next to it. "Which leads to our next point of why, exactly, my dad and Derek Hale have gotten so tight lately." He faced his brother. "Did you know anything about this?" Stiles shrugged and looked down, shaking his head a little. "You know," Stuart laughed, "You heart does this funny little thing when you're trying to hide something. I'll see if I can pound the rhythm into you later." Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and shifted on his feet. Stu looked back at his guests. "Oh, I know." he smirked, moving towards Derek. "You two have been fucking, haven't you?" His fingers tangled in Derek's hair and forced his head back so he could lean in and scent his throat. He snorted and let go roughly. "Or not." He paced between them. "That really only leaves one thing." He looked back at Stiles who was fidgeting, biting his own lip red, and said nothing until his brother broke. "I'm sorry, Stu." Stiles said in earnest, taking a step forward. "Derek wouldn't let me touch him if I didn't say where Dad was. I didn't know what he'd do - " "Lie." Stu chimed. "I didn't think they'd get anything accomplished." Stiles tried, and then added, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, but you said - " "I'm not mad." Stuart cut him off, then rephrasing, "I'm not too mad. Peter, may he rest in peace, had to go at some point. It's just a shame that he had to go so soon. I mean, I was supposed to kill him." Stu threw a hard look back at Derek, "Or you were. It would have been so easy to become Alpha if I was taking it from you." He turned back to Stiles and shrugged. "Oh, well. We're lucky, I guess. We've got another Alpha in the area, right?" Realization and dread dawned on his brother's face quickly. Stuart's lips thinned to a line as Stiles begged, "No, Stu, please, come on. Not Scott." his voice broke. Stu bridged the distance between them and shushed him. "We've talked about this, remember?" he asked, a hand on his waist while the other cupped his cheek. His voice was suddenly so soft, and he didn't look pleased at all to hear his brother's ratcheting heart. Stu gently pressed his mouth against his twin's temple. "I know what's best for us." he murmured. "You know that. Remember? You said you knew that." "I know, I know." Stiles nodded vigorously, his voice growing even more panicked "But, Scott - " "Hey, shh." Stu hushed, hand rubbing down the other boy's arm. "Don't you want me to take care of you? I can only protect you if I'm Alpha. Okay?" "But Scott." Stiles said, his breath hitching. "If Dad and Derek hadn't killed Peter, I would have been able to get rid of him myself. You could have watched. Seen how he'd never be able to touch you again. It's all their fault, really." Stu assured him, and Stiles got a wide, frantic look in his eyes. He took a small step away. "You can't hurt them." he stated, standing on his own. "Don't hurt them." "Stiles," Stu said, fondly. "You're too trusting. You're so lucky to have me looking out for you." and the weight of the words, the ambiguous implications, seemed to overpower Stiles, making him sway on his feet. Stuart caught him and cooed, "Go sit on the couch. You're still weak from the change." "I'm fine." Stiles grit out. "You're shaking." Stuart told him. "Go sit down." and Stiles, sending one more hesitant glance back at Derek and his father, turned and made his way to the couch. Stuart looked back at the two men and grinned, giving his attention to the Sheriff. "You know, Stiles and Derek haven't been able to keep their hands off each other. Did he tell you?" The Sheriff looked at him evenly, and Stu nodded in understanding. "So, you know about their little liaisons. Did you know that Derek fucked him with me and Peter?" The older man couldn't help the sharp look he sent at Derek, who shook his head, eyes wide, until he stopped, abruptly, because Stuart wasn't really lying. The boy smirked. "Yeah, you didn't know that. Did you know that he face fucked Stiles yesterday? Apparently, to find you, so that's even more awkward. Didn't know that either, huh? Did he show you any of the videos we sent?" The Sheriff, a little red in the face, seething, made no further movement. Stu was practically beaming. "Wanna see one?" "Stu, stop it." Stiles said from the couch, rigid tension keeping his posture straight as he watched his twin cautiously. "Aw, come on." Stuart waved him off. "Maybe he'd like to. Might do him good to see more of what we've been up to. I mean, he lost so much time after Mom died. He's gotta make it up somehow." "Come on, Stu. This isn't funny. I don't like it." Stuart sighed and faced his twin head on for a moment. "Stiles, you're hysterical. Just calm down. Take a few deep breaths like you've been practicing. Leave this to me. You'll just embarrass yourself if you keep talking." Stiles opened his mouth to respond but must have thought better. Instead, he looked down at his hands on his lap, saying nothing. The attention was turned to Derek, who shifted uncomfortably under Stuart's gaze, unable to help himself. "I'm not gonna pull some pathetic "Daddy Never Loved Us" bullshit on you." Stu said. "This isn't the Lifetime Network. But you have to understand, Derek, watching you mom die sucks. You didn't get to see your's, so you'll have to use what small amount of imagination you have. And, to top it off, Daddy starts drinking before she's even in the ground. Sure, he's sober for work; and, sure, there's worse things than a drunk dad - but it sure as hell isn't easy explaining why Dad is passed out on the couch at four in the afternoon on a Tuesday. I seriously thought he might kill himself on some days," Stuart laughed, and added, "I could have run a train on my brother all night long, had guys lining up all the way out the door, and he wouldn't have noticed." "Stu, it wasn't even that bad." Stiles stated. "And it's all fine now." "Is it?" Stuart asked. To Derek, he said, "Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes when he's around Stiles, like he's seeing Mom again. "And, it's almost funny, because it's only with Stiles. Which, to be honest, makes more sense than it should. I mean, I get it. I see it too. There's something softer about his face." Stu turned to gaze after him as he spoke, watching Stiles's mouth part and the way he squirmed, uncomfortable with being talked about like this. "He carries himself lighter," he said, seeming to become a little lost. "Just like she did." He turned back and shrugged suddenly, back to his cheerful chill. "It's alright for me to notice, of course. I'm his twin and we're close - but Dad." Stuart shook his head. "That's just sick. And I don't want some old, sad drunk pawing at my brother. "I mean, it's bad enough that Stiles just had to accept him back. I mean, he leaves us when we need him - and I was doing what he wouldn't for so long - and then he thinks he can just waltz back in because now it's convenient for him to have a family." Stu voice rose. "And he thinks he can just come back and take my family, take the family that I've provided for, that he left, and everything will be okay? He's lucky I didn't kill him years ago." Stiles stood up. "What the fuck are you even saying?" he hissed. "Sit the fuck down, Stiles." Stu bit back. His brother took a quick step towards him, obviously before thinking it through, saying, "Dad's always been there for us. He never got that bad. So, stop - Stop lying." And when he was allowed another uninterrupted second to further his case, he added, sounding calmer, "And it wasn't Derek's fault that any of that happened anyway. You're exaggerating everything." "Oh?" Stuart asked, feigning shock. "Well, if you say so. You've been so trustworthy this past month; someone I could completely rely on not to lie or stray. What an absolute relief it is to have such a faithful brother making sure that I'm being honest." Stiles faltered and his posture changed, trying to make himself smaller. "That's not fair. I said I was sorry. You said it was okay." "I said it was going to be okay." Stu said very slowly. "But, you have to listen to me. Do what I tell you. Stop arguing." He gave his brother a firm, patient look. "Can you do that for me? Can you do this one thing for me?" And Stiles sat back down once again. Derek made some slight sound that even he wasn't quite sure the meaning of - whether he was frustrated or disappointed or losing hope. Regardless, it pulled Stuart's grinning attention back to him. "So, what are we going to do with you two?" Stuart asked. "I probably shouldn't kill you at this point - it's not important enough and it would just upset Stiles. But," he said, sauntering back to the table, "You're only likely to keep getting in my way," he picked up one of the guns, "And I really can't have that." "Stuart - " Stiles balked. "Unless," Stuart continued, speaking to his brother. "You want to convince me otherwise." "Yes." Stiles said immediately. "Okay. What do you want me to do?" "Pick one." The boy's eyes widened and he looked between Derek and his father. "Pick one what?" he asked weakly. "Pick one - and you'll give him a warm goodbye and a bullet to the head. How's that?" "No." Stiles flat out rejected, springing to his feet. "No, I don't like that plan. No one has to die." "No one has to die, Stiles, no. But that's how things are. I'm trying to fix the mess you've made. I didn't ask you to start fucking around with Derek, and I kept telling you that if you weren't quiet, Dad would hear. You're the reason they know about any of this, and you're the reason they're here." Stiles seemed to lose his standing again and Stuart continued, his cold voice turning hushed with hurt, "Why wasn't I enough? I've always been good to you. I just don't understand why you had to flirt with Peter and catch Dad's attention and seduce Derek. You were always everything I wanted." His twin's expression softened with guilt. "I - I didn't mean to." he choked out. "I promise. I didn't - I din't even know I was doing most of those things. Stu, please, believe me." And Stiles, once allowed, gathered his brother in his arms and pressed his face into his neck. "I don't know if I can." Stuart said, voice still soft with distress, though he sent a coy look and a wink to Derek as Stiles gave of waves of contrition. His hands ran down Stiles's back. "I can't tell if you're just trying to trick me because they're more important to you than I am." "Oh, no." Stiles hushed, his voice a murmur. "No, please. But they don't have to die. It'll make things worse for us if they do. Please, Stu." Stuart made a contemplative noise. "I don't know. I'm not sure. I'll think about it." Stiles pulled back and Stuart's face was appropriately concerned and gentle again as his cheek was touched by his twin's long fingers. "Thank you," Stiles kissed him. "I love you so much." "I love you too." Stuart said. "Can you get Derek hard while I think about it?" The Sheriff made some noise over that - not anything vocal, but a slight shuffling as he twisted in his seat, either a renewed, frantic attempt to get away or an effort to remove himself from having to witness this. Neither of the twins noticed, but Derek did, and whined low in his throat, causing the brothers to look back at him. Stuart nudged Stiles forward slightly, and Stiles took the few steps between them slowly before hesitating. He looked between his red-faced father and Derek's crotch for a moment before sitting down on the man's lap delicately, back to the Sheriff to block his view. While Stiles was busy unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans, Derek looked up to see Stuart, face too smug, sidling up in front of them, gun tucked into the back of his pants, eyes darting between everyone. Hot in Derek's ear, Stiles whispered, "Close your eyes for me, okay?" Teeth tugged at his earlobe and then sucked before the boy tried, "It'll be easier if you think about something nice." Derek made some soft sound of assent and reluctantly shut his eyes, feeling Stiles kiss a soft thank you just under his ear. He thought about how warm Stiles's hand felt now, and the nice, solid weight of him on his lap - but none of that was nice enough to remove him from his situation or make him forget any of his recent brushes with sex. "Are you thinking of something nice yet?" Stiles hummed, so soft that Derek almost missed a desperate edge that the boy was trying to hide. Stiles cupped his mostly soft cock in his hand and Derek shook his head lightly, eyebrows furrowing. Stuart snorted, which didn't help at all, and Stiles hmmed. Not to Derek, he said, "Maybe if I could take his gag off and kiss him? It might help; he likes kissing." "Absolutely not." Stuart scoffed, and Stiles made another thoughtful noise. He brought his lip and tongue and teeth to Derek's neck, only sucking slightly, mouth wet and hot and familiar. His free hand curled around the back of Derek's head and guided him in to scent his throat. Stiles and the comfort that his scent brought curled around him and let him relax a bit. The pleased noise he made helped too, as Stiles was able to more easily pump him erect. "Look at you," Stiles praised, quiet so his father might not hear, though his tone was still a little frantic. "Being so good for me. That's what you want, right? To be good for me? You're doing so well." Stiles, fingers twined in Derek's hair, tilted his head back, pulling him away from his neck. Derek finally opened his eyes to see only Stiles, who bent to kiss and bite under his jaw. Behind him, Stuart was watching intently. "He looks fine now." Stuart said, eyes locked with Derek. "Get on your knees and suck him off." "But - " Stiles started, pulling away, hand still tight around Derek's cock as he looked back. "But what?" Stu asked, watching Stiles slink of Derek's lap. He got to work quickly, obviously trying to get Derek off as fast as he could. Derek, similarly, was trying to come as fast as he could, but focusing on that made him feel too anxious to see any sort of completion as probable. Stiles head was inclined in an effort to keep his father from seeing much, and the Sheriff had looked away until Stuart came up behind him and helped him focus on the pair. And, for Derek, being able see the Sheriff and Stuart and know they could see him as well was making it even more difficult. Derek closed his eyes again and tried to tell himself that he and Stiles was comfortable and warm and safe, that Stiles had never had a brother, that Derek's back wasn't starting to ache and his chest didn't itch, that they were somewhere beautiful. It worked enough, because he was able to come, Stiles swallowing him down and then pulling back quickly. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and started to fix Derek's pants, sending him one, small, tight smile. "Now do Dad." Stuart said. Stiles hands froze. All of him stalled. Panic was coming off of him so clearly all of a sudden that Derek forgot himself and tried to say something, which, muffled by the gag, turned into more spit sliding down his chin. Stiles managed out, "What?" "Come here. It's Dad's turn. You don't want him to feel left out, do you?" The Sheriff shook his head and pulled at his cuffs, no doubt tearing up his wrists. Stuart laughed. "Stu, no." Stiles said, walking towards him. "Okay, fine," Stuart shrugged, pulling the gun out and pressing it against his father's temple. "So, we kill him. It's better this way, probably. Derek can help us get rid of Scott; Dad would put up more of a fuss if we asked." Stiles caught his brother's arm, trying to ease it away. "Come on," he murmured, "This isn't funny." In a quick show of strength, Stuart knocked him away, throwing him back, and then pressed the gun against his father's forehead again. Stiles's head was bashed hard against the coffee table, the force of it spilling everything on top to his side. "You have anything else you want to say to him before he goes?" Stuart asked, grinning wildly as the Sheriff shut his eyes. "Stuart, look at me for a second." Stiles said, and Stu turned to find that, from his spot on the ground, his brother had the other gun trailed on him as well. Stuart laughed and started, slowly, to turn back. "You're not gonna - " Stiles shot him once, dead center in his chest, and pushed quickly to his feet. He dashed to Derek, pulling off his gag. "Stiles - " "It's okay," Stiles rushed, starting to untie his arms. "You and Dad just go. When Stuart heals himself and wakes up - " "Stiles - " "- He'll just be mad at me." He freed on arm and moved to the next. "He won't come after you if he's just mad at me. We were leaving anyway. I don't think we'll come looking for you but please - " "Stiles - " "Please don't try to find us. Dad will say he wants to, but don't let him. Please keep him safe for me. Don't let him get lonely. And - " "Stiles, stop." Derek said, both arms let go. Stiles did, but looked impatient. "Stiles, which gun did you use?" And it was all very slow - much slower than the way Stuart had just crumpled to the ground, blood pouring out unceremoniously. The tilt of Stiles's head as he looked at him for a moment, realization not quite hitting its mark yet, dragged on for what felt like a very long time. He looked over at his dad, who was trying to remained stoic but was actually now tearing up, his hitched breathing soft enough to have remained unheard over the previous buzz of motion. He shook his head and then burst out laughing. "No," he said, smiling genuinely. "No, come on, Derek. He grabbed Dad's, I'm sure of it. I couldn't - " he turned away, and went to his brother's body. "See, it's already heal - " He looked down and cut himself off. He glanced back at Derek, "Does it start healing immediately or... " Derek didn't look at him, couldn't, because he was untying his legs and didn't think he'd be able to handle what Stiles looked like when he realized. However, that didn't stop him from hearing the small, muted "Stu?" that Stiles choked out. Derek's fingers felt too big, and they slipped on the knot again. There was a loud, distressed wail and he looked up to see Stile kneeling over Stuart, hands on his shoulders. "Stu, wake up." he whined. He shook him, trying to jostle the other boy awake. Nothing happened, and Stiles sobbed, "Stu, I'm sorry, wake up, you have to wake up, I didn't mean it." "Stiles, let him go." Derek said. "Stu, I didn't mean it." Stiles told him. "I"m sorry. Please, come back. Please, wake up, come on, please." "Stiles - " which finally got the boy's attention. Stiles stood abruptly, gun in hand, and stalked towards Derek. He aimed it right between his eyes, though his hold was unsteady and he looked close to collapsing. "How do I fix it?" Stiles demanded. Derek shook his head, not sure which words to speak, and Stiles pressed a little closer and repeated, tears running down his face, "How do I fix it?" "You - You can't." Derek choked out, only to have to see Stiles's face contort with anguish and his trembling hands reached up to clutch at his chest. The gun clattered to the ground and Stiles fell to his knees beside it, heaving and hitching as he keened, close to screaming. Derek was able to finally get the ropes off and carefully tried to approach Stiles. The boy pushed him away weakly, eyes opening to show just how blue they could glow now. Derek would have kept trying to pull the boy into his arms and away if the Sheriff hadn't started to make small muffled sounds through his gag, trying to catch his attention. Derek stood and hurried to the Sheriff, allowing Stiles to crawl towards his brother's corpse. Breaking the handcuff's chain was easy enough, and he knelt to free the Sheriff's legs as the older man pulled off his gag. "What took you so long?" he hissed once able to speak. "Wolfsbane in the ropes." Derek muttered. "I couldn't - " A final wail caught both of their attention. Stiles wasn't sobbing as much, still shuddering and trembling as he pulled himself up a little. Having brought the gun with him, he shakily began to raise it. Derek moved away from the Sheriff to let him finish untying himself and took a wary step towards the boy. "Stiles, put it down." he said gently as Stiles pressed the gun against his own temple. "It's not supposed to be like this." the boy tried to explain, his free hand wiping away some of his tears. "We were supposed to go together." "Stiles, please." the Sheriff started, now standing with Derek. "Don't do that." Hand still in place, Stiles face broke as he started to weep again. "Dad. Daddy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean to. Daddy, I'm so sorry." "Baby," the Sheriff said, creeping towards him slowly, voice shaking, "I know. Come on, give that to me." "I didn't mean to kill him." Stiles went on. "Daddy, I didn't mean it, please." he sobbed, but didn't clarify what exactly he was asking for. The Sheriff knelt before him and Stiles let him take the gun away. Falling into his arms, his father held him close as he keened against his chest. Derek's cellphone rang in his back pocket and pulled it out to answer it. Voice tight, he said, "Hello?" Isaac started, rushing out, "Scott and I bought tickets for a flight in about an hour. We'll be back in three, maybe four, if everything goes alright. Is everything okay? Do you know if Stiles made it?" Derek didn't say anything for a while. He just watched Stiles sob as his father tried and failed to comfort him. "Derek? Did I lose you?" "Did Stiles make it." Derek repeated. "Scott's been really worried." Isaac said. "Scared." "Scott's been scared." Derek scoffed. "What's wrong?" Isaac asked. "What happened?" "I don't know - " "Derek, what's that sound? Is someone crying over there?" "Yeah, it's - It's Stiles." "So, he's okay?" "This is a bad time." Derek said. "Maybe you should call back later." "Derek, what - " He hung up on Isaac and dropped his phone to the ground. Stomping it to pieces felt about as good as he imagined it might. End Notes The character death is neither Stiles nor Derek and is basically what people have been asking me for since we started this all those months ago. Thanks for sticking with this story, guys. I hope you guys liked it. Shameless tumblr plug: My_Blog Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!