Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1113959.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Lydia_Martin, Cora_Hale,
      Danny_Mahealani, Alan_Deaton, Sheriff_Stilinski, (Deceased)_Claudia
      Stilinski, Marin_Morrell, Bobby_Finstock, (Deceased)_Hale_Family, Allison
      Argent, Chris_Argent, (Deceased)_Victoria_Argent, Melissa_McCall,
      (Deceased)_Talia_Hale
  Additional Tags:
      Murder_Mystery, Terminal_Illnesses, Slow_Build, Unrequited_Crush
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-02-01 Chapters: 1/? Words: 832
****** Howling and Gnashing of Teeth ******
by computer0addict
Summary
     A werewolf's body is found in the woods. Stiles and Derek are forced
     to cooperate in order to find the killer. Plenty of embarrassment,
     awkwardness, and exasperation follow the dysfunctional duo.
Under different circumstances, Megan would have been awed at the state of the
Beacon Hills Preserve. Its relatively untouched condition differed from any
other woods she had encountered, she found even the crackle of leaves and twigs
underfoot soothing. Her senses were alive in the crisp air; the scent of a
distant campfire danced around her nostrils while the slight wind whooshed by
her face as if caressing her features. The trees themselves were impressive,
reaching heights past even her extended visibility, towering like the legs of
placid giants.
She could imagine her sister's delight, if she ever managed to tell her of the
experience. Taylor would find it a vast improvement to the 5-acre woods that
were their parents' property. If she made it out of this alive, that is.
Megan searched frantically for an escape route, higher ground, anything. Her
feet sped over the ground, calves burning from the strain of carrying Taylor
and trying not to slip on the moist soil. She held her sister over her back,
feeling her right arm bounce against her spine with every disoriented step.
Ridiculous thoughts flitted through Megan's mind, like whether Taylor would
wake up suddenly and tell her that she was tired of being carried like a sack
of potatoes and demand Megan set her down.
She scolded herself; this was no time for jokes. As if to prove her point, an
arrow shot past her head.
“On the other hand,” she muttered to her unconscious sibling, “maybe it'd be
all right to lighten up a little. After all, we're going to die.”
“Come on, little wolfie, give up already!” The closest hunter called out.
They were close. Their ATVs gave them an unfair advantage, and though the
ground was damp from rain, the trail wasn't muddy enough to get stuck in.
She chanced a look over her shoulder and saw the scrawny one readying his
crossbow. For fuck's sake, when will he run out of arrows? Megan swerved and
dove face-first into the nearest bush.
In recollection, it probably wasn't the brightest idea. Definitely not her
finest moment.
Thorns caught in her hair and sliced open any exposed skin on her way down.
Taylor, fortunately, was protected from the plant's onslaught – mostly because
she landed directly on Megan.
“Ugh,” Taylor grunted.
“Taylor!” Megan exclaimed. “I thought you'd never wake up!” She turned around,
with difficulty, to face her sister. “How are you feeling?”
“Like a fucking train wreck, how do you think?”
Megan cuffed the back of her head, then tried to pull both of them up out of
the leafy wreckage.
“Oh, look at this,” the chief hunter interrupted. “It's a reunion!”
Taylor jumped at the proximity of the voice, stilling in Megan's arms.
Sycophantic laughter echoed his snicker like the response to a talk-show host's
theatrics. The pair of hunters whose quad had remained at the back of the
assembly line finally drove up to the rest of their team: Three rugged-looking
men ranging from their early twenties to late forties, by Megan's estimation.
They were a scruffy and disorganized bunch, but their high-tech weaponry
featuring wolfsbane-coated blades made up for their disarray.
“So, boys. Which should we skin first?”
Taylor's breathing sped up suddenly, and Megan detected a sharp spike in her
heart rate. A pang of sadness touched her heart as she realized how much she'd
miss her sister's swift reaction rate – she always managed to comprehend all
sides to a puzzle or scenario in the blink of an eye, while Megan was still
trying to unravel the first clue – just as guilt ebbed her consciousness when
she understood that she'd already given up. There was no hope for her now.
But Taylor . . . Taylor could make it out of this alive, if she played her
cards right.
She shifted, her eyesight enhancing with the flash in her blue eyes, canines
gnashing together audibly. She made a guttural noise directed at her sister,
hoping the message relayed correctly through her rage. “Run!”
Megan tackled the hunter who'd been taunting them, teeth sinking through his
clothing and into the skin. She was satisfied with the chunk of flesh she
removed from his shoulder. The feeling didn't last, however; a blade found its
way into her stomach, an icy feeling crawling into her bloodstream followed by
agonizing pain. Freaking wolfsbane.
The combined wound and poison was an effective paralytic. She was powerless.
Faintly, she acknowledged the other two hunters revving their ATVs to chase
after her sister. Taylor, she sent out, hoping to somehow telepathically
communicate to her. Keep running.
His grin was feral as he moved the blade up sharply, slicing through her
organs.
How ironic, she thought dazedly. The hunter is more of a monster than his prey.
Her eyes stopped working before her ears did, which she regretted infinitely.
In the distance, a pained howl of a beta calling to the last of her pack echoed
through the forest.
Megan was too far gone to respond.
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