Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1064383.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Marcus_Andrews_(OMC)
  Additional Tags:
      non-con, Rape, Kidnapping, Abuse, Stockholm_Syndrome, Dark, Eventual
      Sterek, Rape_Aftermath, Hurt/Comfort, everything_works_out_in_the_end,
      Suicidal_thoughts_(brief), Derek_lacks_social_skills
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-30 Words: 13141
****** One Day ******
by JFACHardyzRKO
Summary
     When Stiles gets kidnapped, the pack does everything they can to find
     him but they are too late. At least, that's what Stiles thinks. He is
     so deeply co dependent on his abductor that it will take a miracle to
     get him back to how he used to be.
Notes
     I wrote this a while ago and am just now trying to switch all my fics
     over to AO3 so here it is. I know a few people have been wondering
     where it is.
     This fic is full of DARKNESS. Like, the entire thing is rape or
     talking about it. But it's Sterek, eventually, and a happy ending!
     It's super triggery if rape & suicidal thoughts bother you.
     It does end on a good note though so, ENJOY!
     So, it was brought to my attention that Derek handles a situation in
     here, with Stiles being less than forthcoming about what happned to
     him, very badly. And while I was aware of this, and saw it as Derek's
     off handed way of getting Stiles to talk about and deal with what
     happened to him, others have been offended by it. So consider this
     fair warning: DEREK HAS NO SOCIAL SKILLS.
See the end of the work for more notes
The day started like any other. Stiles woke up, showered, had breakfast and
went to school. He talked with Scott, Lydia and Allison. He had lunch and
suffered the Hell that was Harris’ chemistry class. He went to after school
lacrosse practice and sat on the bench as they played a practice game. He
watched Scott kick ass on the field with his still pretty amazing werewolf
powers. He showered (unnecessarily) after practice and dropped Scott off at his
house before going to his own. Only, he never actually made it home.
As best as he can remember, halfway there he saw what appeared to be an
accident. Tire marks lined the road and the guiderail was torn leading down a
bank. Stiles, being the helpful young man that he is, jumped out of his Jeep
immediately, without thinking, and ran over to the scene. Peering down the
bank, he saw a red, late model sedan on its roof at the bottom of the hill. He
patted his pockets for his phone, realized he left it in his Jeep and turned to
get it to call 911 when he heard it; the unmistakable cry of that handsome,
irritating, brooding werewolf, Derek. But, why was Derek in such a crappy car?
Why wasn’t he driving his Camaro? Why was he out this way in the first place?
Oh God, I have to help him! Hundreds of thoughts rushed through his head as he
slid down the embankment to the sedan. All he kept imagining were the action
movies where the gas leaks out of the gas tank and one random, well placed
spark sets the whole vehicle ablaze. And he couldn’t let that happen to Derek.
“Derek! I’m coming!”
No answer.
Stiles was starting to worry. All his medical knowledge, albeit limited, told
him that if Derek had hit his head during the collision and passed out, he may
never wake up. He had to get to him. Had to. Running down the very steep hill
seemed like a bad idea, so he advised himself against it; only to jog down it
instead. Of course, he ended up tripping in a hole and rolling the rest of the
way down to the car. Coming to a stop only after his body crashed into the
already broken car.
“Nng. Shit” Stiles cursed as he held his now bleeding head in one hand, rubbing
his (probably broken) ankle with the other.
“Derek!? Derek, I’m here! I’m – what the Hell?” There was no one in the car. No
sign that there had ever been. No blood, no tattered clothing, no severed limbs
waiting to be claimed. Nothing. But Stiles knew he heard Derek. He knew.
“Derek? Derek, this isn’t funny. I know I heard you! Where are you? Come on
out. I promise I won’t tell anyone about your horrible driving. Promise!”
It really wasn’t funny anymore. Not ever actually. He knew he heard Derek. It
had to have been Derek. There had to have been someone down here. He heard a
voice. Derek’s voice? Now he was starting to question himself. A completely
different set of thoughts was running through his head now. I know I heard a
voice. It had to have been Derek’s, right? Why would I imagine that? But, if it
wasn’t Derek, who was it? Who was driving the damn car in the first place?  He
tried standing up and instantly regretted it. Damn, pretty sure my ankle is
broken. How in the Hell am I getting back to my Jeep now?
“Derek! I’m pretty sure I broke my ankle trying to save your ass, again! Come
on man, get out here! I know you can hear me!”
Nothing.
“How do you expect me to get back to my Jeep? You think it’ll be funny watching
me attempt to hobble?”
Nothing.
“Derek?” The name came out as more of a plea and a sigh of desperation than a
question. Stiles knew something was wrong. Knew the circumstances should be
setting all kinds of bright, flashing red lights off in his head. He knew he
should be thinking of a way out. He knew he should be thinking of all the
possible ways to get help. But, all he could do was worry. Why had the car
wrecked? Why on this road? The most deserted road in all of Beacon Hills. Of
fucking course. What if this was a trap? It had to be, right? Someone was
trying to get to one of the werewolves and decided to use the human as bait. Go
fucking figure. While Stiles was caught up in his own self-loathing thoughts, a
figure came out of the brush behind him.
“Always the noble one you are.”
Stiles jumped at the sudden noise and spun around on his knees. It wasn’t
Derek.
“Who are you?”
“Always the inquisitive one as well.”
“What do you want?”
“And, always the talkative one.”
And then, after a sudden, sharp pain in his bicep, Stiles passed out.
| |
His head throbbed. His ankle throbbed. His everything throbbed. And really, he
couldn’t figure out why. There was no reason for him to hurt all over. He
didn’t even play during pract – damn. And then he remembered. The car. The
voice. The damn hill. The mysterious man and the ridiculous pain in his arm
before he evidently passed out.
“Ahh, you’re finally awake! I made you supper. I figured you’d be hungry. You
always are right? Haha. Oh and I have your favorite here too, curly fries!”
“Who…the hell…are you?” It hurt to talk. It hurt to breathe. Hell, it even hurt
to think.
“Oh dear. How rude of me! My name is Marcus.”
“Why…”
“Well, I imagine that’s what my parents thought I looked like when I was
born.”’
“No dumbass. Why me?”
“Oh! Well, I guess you’ll find out soon enough anyway. And since we are going
to be getting well acquainted with each other, I suppose you deserve the
truth.”
“How decent of you.”
Stiles tried to sit up on the bed he was lying in. He managed to get up to rest
his back against the wall. Surveying the room was going to be an even bigger
challenge. Not because it was huge, or dark, or anything like that. No, it was
because it just him and Marcus, the bed he was currently occupying, the chair
Marcus was in, and a nightstand. The light in the room was coming from an
overhead bulb. That was it. Nothing else. The floor and walls were dirt.
Nothing. Nothing else.
“I watched you Stiles. I watched you for so long. Since the first day I saw you
I knew we’d be together. It was…” Marcus had to stop and think of the exact
date, he had to be sure, “April 19 of last year. You were glorious. Running
around on the field with your friends practicing lacrosse. Your body, your
hair, your smile. You captivated me, Stiles. I watched from that moment on. I
was always with you, whether actually there in person or not. I came to realize
pretty quickly that with the particular group of friends you had, I’d have to
be creative. Which reminds me, we are going to have a serious talk later about
you associating yourself with werewolves. Anyway, I had cameras everywhere I
knew you frequented. I had them in random parts of the woods and in the Hale
house too. That, let me tell you, was not easy to get away with. Your car, your
school, all your friends’ houses, your friends’ cars, everywhere. It wasn’t
cheap either. But it was all for you. And it was all so well worth it. And now
here we are, spending our one year anniversary together.”
There was so much running through Stiles’ head. All these questions that he
wanted to ask. All these answers he needed. This guy is for real. He’s not
after the wolves, he wants me. He’s…he’s never letting me go. I’m never leaving
here. Oh my God. No. No no no no no no no no! This can’t be happening. He had
to ask him…something. But he was numb. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t do
anything but sit and stare into space. Tears swelled in his eyes unknowingly.
“Oh Stiles, baby, I knew you’d be as happy as me! I knew you’d love me as much
as I love you. Oh, you’re going to make me cry too.”
No, Stiles didn’t like him much less love him. This guy, Marcus, was scum. He
kidnapped him. He was going to make him stay here, in this Hell hole. Oh Lord
help me!? 
“It’s okay babe, you don’t have to say it right away. But you do need to eat. I
fixed up your wounds and set your ankle. It should heal fine. It wasn’t
completely broken, just a small fracture. Anyway, food will make you feel
better. You have to be ravished! I’m going to get a shower and do some stuff
upstairs. I’ll be back to get your plate in a little bit and to help you change
out of those raggedy clothes.” He walked over to Stiles’ bedside and sat the
plate down on the table. He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on Stiles’
lips before departing; leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts.
After much deliberation in his mind, Stiles came up with a plan. Well two,
actually. Plan A was to try to get the hell out of there as soon as Marcus
opened the door. The only problem with that plan was the small detail of his
fractured ankle. There would be no walking on it for weeks; Stiles knew from
past experience. Plan B was waiting it out. He knew Scott and his dad, hell,
even Derek would be looking for him soon enough. All he had to do was play
along for a couple of hours so the psycho didn’t kill him before the cavalry
came to his rescue. Oh, and speaking of which, here comes said psycho now.
“Hey, I brought you a change of clothes. I hope you li –what the hell is this,”
Marcus exclaimed as he pointed to the still untouched plate of food he had left
for Stiles. Stiles had forgotten all about it and clearly that was not a good
move on his part.
“I made this for you! I made your favorites and you didn’t even try it! Do you
know how that makes me feel!?”
“I –I’m sorry. I just…”
“Stop! No excuses! All I have done for us and you act like you don’t even care!
Well, two can play that game!”
“No, I…it w –“
“I. Said. Stop. And you will listen to me,” Marcus roared as he brought his
hand down and slapped Stiles across the face. Blood flew from his mouth almost
instantly and more tears welled in his eyes. He brought his hands up to his
face and regretted it when he felt the sharp sting of a bruise already forming.
Stiles flinched when Marcus inched closer, his facial expression softer than
before.
“Oh baby, no. Oh, I am so sorry! So so so sorry! Oh no, what have I done!? Here
let me help.” He reached toward Stiles’ face and Stiles backed up as far away
from him as he could. He had undoubtedly underestimated this guy’s level of
crazy. Apparently bipolar was now to be added to the list.
“Don’t. Don’t touch me,” he sobbed out. Suddenly the severity of his situation
was becoming alarmingly clear. He was terrified, more so than he had ever been
with any of the numerous supernatural creatures he had encountered.
“No, hey Stiles. Don’t be like that. It was an accident. I got upset. That’s
it. You just have to learn to listen, that’s all. And I promise, if you listen,
I’ll never do it again. I never want to hurt you. I love you.”
“STOP IT! I don’t love you! I don’t even know you! You’re crazy! You kidnapped
me and you’ll never get away with it! I –“
“What did I tell you?” Marcus’ hand flew down and connected with Stiles face
again, again on the right side. More blood from his lips and tongue and just
his face in general flew across the tiny room again.
“You will listen to me! APPOLOGIZE!”
Stiles was in shock. He had never been in a situation like this before. His
head was reeling, partially from the pain and partially from all the thoughts
inside it. He didn’t want to be this guy’s… whatever he thought they were.
Boyfriends? Whatever. The point is he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to give
the guy the satisfaction of Stiles’ submission. But he didn’t know what else to
do.
“I. Said. Apologize!”
Against his better nature, Stiles thought it best to do as he was told until he
was found, which he prayed was soon.
“Stiles I said app –“
“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For…for not eating. And yelling and everything else bad I did. Just please,
please don’t hit me again.”
“Oh no baby, shh. I’d never hit you. Come here, well, let me come to you and
get those old clothes off.”
Stiles really didn’t want the guy seeing him in any state of undress but was
not about to protest again. He knew what would happen if he did and his body
couldn’t spare anymore blood right now.
“Here, let me get your shirt…No! Hey, no need for you to do anything. I got it.
There ya go. And now for those filthy pants of yours.” Oh no. This can’t be
happening. Please God, please don’t let this happen!
“There ya go. No more pants. Your very sexy boxer briefs seem to have avoided
getting soiled with your fall earlier so you can wear those for now. Here, let
me get your shirt on you…There ya go babe. Perfect.”
Stiles was mortified. He had just been undressed by a crazy man and now he was
wearing his clothes. Correction, he was wearing his shirt, evidently he didn’t
think Stiles needed pants which was an issue. A serious one.
“Hey, you don’t look happy. What’s wrong? This is how you always sleep,” Marcus
said with almost genuine sounding concern. Eww, he knows how I sleep! He wasn’t
kidding about the cameras. Oh damn.
“No, it’s fine. Really. Just tired,” Stiles tried. He even gave a half smile
and fake yawn to really sell it. And it worked.
“Okay. You lay down. I’ll be back in a minute. I wanna do the dishes before
bed.” Marcus leaned down and kissed Stiles’ forehead before vanishing back
through the door with Stiles’ clothes and untouched plate of food. And he was
kind of regretting not eating that food. His stomach rumbled as he attempted,
very delicately, to lay himself down.  
A few minutes later Marcus came back down. He looked a lot more pleasant than
before and Stiles secretly hoped he took some kind of bipolar disorder
medication or something. He just wanted to sleep and maybe never wake up if
this was going to be his fate. He didn’t want to spend his days in that room.
“Hey baby. I know you have trouble sleeping in new places so I thought I’d lay
here with you until you fell asleep. Obviously I can’t stay with you all night,
but I want to. I hope you know that.”  
Stiles nodded.
“Good. Now let’s get you comfy.” Marcus crawled into the bed, wiggled himself
under the covers and curled an arm around Stiles’ waist and pulled Stiles’ back
to his chest gently.
“Goodnight handsome.”
Stiles said nothing and pretended to already be asleep.
| |
They went for a while like that. Marcus would go down at eight every morning to
wake Stiles up so they could have breakfast together before he went to work. He
would check Stiles’ cuts, bruises, fractured ankle and make sure he took his
Adderall before taking the plates upstairs to be washed. The first few times he
did it, Stiles was wary of having Marcus’ hands anywhere near him.
It wasn’t that Marcus was a large man. He was around 6 foot 3 inches and if
Stiles had to guess, he’d say he weighed no more than 200 pounds. Most of that
though, was lean muscle. He wasn’t a terribly unattractive man, but he
certainly wasn’t anything special either. His dirty blonde hair was always
spiked with gel and Stiles could only imagine what kind of job he had that made
that look okay. Not only was his hair distracting, but the way he dressed
was…thought provoking. Why anyone would wear boot cut jeans with a polka dotted
polo shirt and moccasins to work every day was beyond him. But he didn’t ask.
He never asked. He was always afraid to say the wrong thing and have a hand
across his face again. Marcus had a lot of power behind his punches and if
Stiles had any say in it, he would never feel it again. After Marcus went down
to give Stiles a kiss before leaving, he would always tell him ‘I love you’ and
each and every time Stiles pretended to just be too shy to say it. In reality,
after Marcus left, Stiles would throw up in the newly discovered bathroom at
the far end of the (still very small) room. Just the thought of having feelings
for the psycho made him nauseous.
Early on, Stiles was forced to stay in bed because of his ankle. There was no
way he was getting out unless it was a dire emergency from his bowels. It made
for a very boring day.  He had no electronics of any kind. Marcus had brought
him books a couple days into his stay though. They were all his favorites, To
Kill a Mockingbird, Anthem, Cross Fire, and then of course all of the Batman
comic books (which yes he did consider books because they are classics!)
He would sit in the dim light and thumb through the pages of a book or stare at
the same one for hours at a time, just thinking. He thought a lot down there.
He thought about his dad, whether or not he was okay. If he was looking for
him. He thought about Scott, Allison and Lydia and when it was they actually
figured out he was missing, if ever. He wondered if they ever looked for him
and if they did, had they ever stopped? And finally, and most frequently, he
thought about Derek. He thought about him going crazy running around the woods
trying to track his scent. He thought about him barging in through the door at
any moment and saving him. He thought about Derek holding him and never letting
him go. He just wanted to be safe. And, truth be told, about two weeks in, he
did start to feel safe with Marcus. He wasn’t falling in love with the guy like
Marcus hoped, but he didn’t really fear him anymore. That was, until a month
after he was taken.
“Hey baby, I got you a present since you can finally walk well again! Well,
it’s actually kinda for both of us but yeah…Go on, open it!”
“Uh, okay.”
Stiles was reluctant to open the gift. Marcus had never brought him anything
wrapped before and since he clearly thought that Stiles being able to walk
again was a milestone in their “relationship”, he had no idea what to expect.
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?!”
“Yeah…here I go…”
“Oh I hope you like it.”
“Wh –what the…wha –lube?”
Stiles was terrified now. He knew that eventually something sexual had to come.
But he was not prepared for it so soon. He didn’t want it…at all. There was no
way he was doing that, with Marcus of all people. No, no, no, no! I…can’t have
sex with this nut job! Oh my God…this can’t be happening to me. I just wanna go
home.
“Yeah baby,” Marcus said seductively as he inched closer to Stiles on the bed,
“I thought it was about time we take our relationship to the next level. Don’t
you?”
“We…we don’t have a relationship. You kidnapped me! I am not having sex with
you!” The words just spewed out of his mouth before he could stop them. He had
meant to say something less confrontational, but what he thought and what he
said were two very different things.
“What did I tell you about listening!?” Marcus raised his hand and Stiles
shrunk back as far as possible.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“Too late. You have to be taught a lesson baby.” Marcus’ hand flew down and
landed directly across Stiles’ right jaw line. The heel of his hand connected
with his jaw and Stiles’ head flew into the headboard with surprising speed.
The lights seemed to dim and he thinks he thinks he sees Derek coming up behind
Marcus.
“I lov…,” Stiles slurs before he passes out.
| |
When he awakes he knows something is wrong. For one, he is freezing
cold…because he’s naked.Two, he feels an intrusion at his entrance. Something
moving in and out that should definitely not be there. And then there’s the
looming figure overhead, sitting in between Stiles’ legs. That doesn’t not
belong there either.
“Mmm, what…,” Stiles chokes out groggily. He had no idea how long he had been
out but didn’t like the turn of events since.
“Mmm babe. Do you know how long I have thought of doing this?”
And then it clicked in his brain. A switched turned on and Stiles realized what
was going on. Marcus had three fingers inside of him, working him open.
“No, no. Stop!”
“Shh, baby, I know you are shy. It’s okay. That’s why I did this while you were
asleep.”
“Please, “Stiles sobbed, “Please don’t.”
“I love you Stiles. I’m not going to hurt you. Just relax, it’ll be good.
Promise.”
Whimpers escaped Stiles’ mouth as he just lay there, spread out for the man
that was rap –hurting him. After what seemed like hours, after Marcus finally
got what he wanted, he left Stiles; a crying heap on the cold dirty floor.
And that was his life from then on. Marcus went down to his room whenever he
felt like it, took what he wanted from the traumatized Stiles and left.
Sometimes he would stay. He would cuddle up next to Stiles and tell him how
great he had been and how much he loved him.
After six months, Stiles had pretty much given up hope of rescue and took
refuge in his own mind. He would go to another place when Marcus entered,
almost like an auto pilot switched on and Stiles no longer had to be present.
Eventually he learned that going along with whatever Marcus thought was
happening between them was mandatory to his survival.
Hell, after seven months, he even started to believe his own lies. Maybe he did
love Marcus? Maybe they were meant to be together? Clearly no one had tried to
intervene. Maybe that was a sign? He didn’t know anymore. He barely remembered
the faces of his friends and family. He didn’t really miss any of them anymore.
He held onto the fact that he had Marcus, who did love him and never left his
side unless he absolutely had to.
Marcus was good to him. As long as Stiles did what he was told, Marcus never
raised a hand to him. Stiles came to believe that, after nine months of being
with him, it was his destiny. They were destined to be together. His more
rational brain tried to make him remember that he had been kidnapped and was
being held against his will but those thoughts were pushed so far back in the
dark recesses of his mind that they never saw the light of day. As far as
Stiles was concerned at that point, he was being kept in that room for his own
safety. There were werewolves and kanimas and lord only knows what other
creatures out there and Marcus was just keeping him safe. They couldn’t smell
him that far underground, he was as safe as humanly possible.
After one full year of being there with Marcus, he was granted permission to go
up to the main level of the house. Stiles hadn’t seen light in a year and
initially, he had declined the offer. No baby. It’s okay. I don’t have to. I
like it down here. I’m comfortable and safe. His eyes hurt just looking through
the door towards the windows; he didn’t know if his body could take it but
Marcus was there to help him through it. He held his hand as they got to the
top of the stairs and stood there with Stiles until he was okay to keep going.
Marcus gave him a tour of the house and even let him eat dinner at the table
with him. He showed Stiles how to properly clean the dishes and put them away.
Afterwards, they went to Marcus’ room and after they were finished there,
Stiles was led back down to safety of his own.
After another month, Stiles was comfortable being upstairs. Usually, when
Marcus was home, he was up there with him. He hated being away from him, the
only person that truly loved him. He was let to watch TV as long Marcus
approved of the program and even let him get the newspaper from the porch one
time. Stiles was assigned to do the cooking and cleaning and did so happily. He
lived to please his Marcus. He would do anything to make him happy and keep him
that way. And everything was great, Marcus barely hit him anymore and when he
did, it was because Stiles deserved it. Sometimes he just couldn’t filter what
he thought from what he said. He never blamed Marcus for hurting him; it was
his punishment, a right one. He had to learn and was doing so more and more
each day. At most, Marcus just raised his hand and Stiles would profusely
apologize just how Marcus liked it. Then they would have sex until both men
were equally exhausted.
| |
A year and a half after Stiles was taken, Marcus goes rushing home. He flies
through Stiles’ bedroom door and lets out an audible sigh of relief.
“Oh thank God baby! You’re here!”
“Of course I am Hun, where else would I be?”
“Nowhere. Nowhere.”
“What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry…I –“
“No, hey, shh. You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me, my mistake. I forgot to
lock your door. I thought that you…”
“Oh Marc, I would never go upstairs without you. It’s not safe. Those creatures
might catch my scent without all the precautions you take. You know I would
never risk that.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“Do you have to go back to work (wherever that was)?”
“No. I need you baby. You are so good. So good.” Marcus reached out and pulled
Stiles in by the waist to plant a sultry kiss to his lips. Within seconds,
hands were roaming and clothes were coming off and then they were falling on to
the bed.
“Mmm Stiles…”
“Mmm?” It was more of a question than he intended it to be. Not that Stiles
wasn’t thoroughly enjoying what they were doing but it sounded like Marc wanted
to say something else. Stiles didn’t press the issue though. With one hand
pinning Stiles’ wrists above his head, Marcus used his other to slowly work
Stiles open. He always did it so slow, like that was going to be their last
time and Stiles hated it. He hated Marcus thinking that they would never get to
make love again. That’s what they did. They made glorious love every day and
Stiles hated thinking his Marc would ever leave.
“Oh mmm Marc –mmm I need…you…to…,” Stiles managed to get out in breathy moans.
“I know what you need… I love you.” And with that, Stiles came, hard. He
relished hearing that sentence. Hearing that someone hadn’t given up; that
someone actually loved him. He knew what true love was now. Marcus finished
opening him up and then they made the most passionate love they had in a
while. It was gentle and perfect and Stiles liked this. He liked just having
Marcus in him. And then when Marcus came, Stiles did too, again. Making Marcus
happy always made Stiles happy and his second orgasm always left him so
euphoric. Both men fell asleep in the arms of the other, loving where they
were.
| |
“Stiles. Stiles! Stiles wake up!”
He had been fighting the incessant voice for the last few minutes. He didn’t
want to wake up. He wanted to stay in the arms of… “WHERE IS MARCUS!?”
“No, shh Stiles. It’s okay. It’s me, your dad, son. You’re going home.”
Stiles was in shock. So many thoughts running through head. So many emotions
and feelings. So much. He needed Marcus to help him sort through it all.
“No, where’s Marcus?”
“He’s not going to hurt you anymore Stiles. It’s okay.”
“NO! Where is he!? I need him!”
It took the sheriff a few moments to remember how to speak. Stiles should be
happy to see him. He should be in his arms, hugging him. Not, not asking for
his captor.
“Stiles, I’m taking you home, come on.”
Stile through a fit. Hitting and screaming and kicking at anyone who even came
close. He needed Marcus, his Marc. He was so confused and scared. Suddenly he
felt a sharp pinch and then saw blackness.
*At the hospital*
“Sheriff! Sheriff! You found him!? He was in there right!?”
“Yeah Scott, we got him.”
“He’s…I mean he’s alive right?”
“Yes,” the Sheriff sighed, “he’s alive.”
“Where is he? When can I see him!?”
“I’m afraid that’s going to be a problem.”
“What? Why? Oh my God is hurt? What the hell did that guy do to him? I swear to
God I’ll kill him! I’ll ri –“
“Scott!… We had to sedate him. He’s in his room now, still asleep.”
“You what? Why would you do that!?”
“Scott, he went through a lot. He needs rest. Go home. I’ll call you when he
can have visitors. I promise.”
“Are you s –“
“Go home.”
“Okay. He’s gonna be okay right?”
“I sure hope so,” the sheriff whispered, mostly to himself as Scott walked
away.
“Sheriff?”
“Me, yeah. That’s me.”
“Hi, my name is Detective Burke. This is my partner Detective Casey. We need to
speak with you about your son and his captor, Mr. Marcus Andrews.”
“Oh, I don’t know anything. I was pulled from the case as soon as we found
him.”
“Yes well, you were the one that apprehended the man and your son. I was
wondering how you found out his location?”
“Oh, uh, an anonymous tip was phoned in to the station. We followed up with
surveillance and determined it was him and we got him. Simple as that.”
“I see. You don’t find it strange that a year and a half later, an anonymous
stranger phones in a tip that does successfully help you get your son back and
he leaves no name? Why wouldn’t he want the reward money offered?”
“I don’t know. Anything else you need Detectives?”
“No, thank you for your time. We’ll follow up soon enough. Oh and Sheriff, it
should go without saying but, you cannot speak to your son until we have his
statement.”
“Of course.”
“We’ll be in touch.”
| |
Hours passed before Stiles awoke. He was still tired and rolled over to feel
for Marcus’ warm presence beside him; it wasn’t there.
“Marcus. Marcus, where are you?!”
“Stiles, shh. Calm down. My name is Doctor Porter. I need you to breathe for
me. In and out. In and out.” Stiles did as he was told until he was sure a
panic attack wasn’t setting in.
“I need Marcus. Where is he? Why am I here?”
“Stiles, do you know what today is?”
“Why does that matter? I want Marcus! Where is he!?”
“Today’s date is September 29th, 2013.”
“W –what?”
“Do you know what happened today?”
Stiles shook his head. It was all still very hazy in his overcrowded mind.
“That’s okay. You will remember eventually. For now, with your permission, I
would like to ask you a few other questions.”
“Like what?”
“What is your birthday?”
“Why does that matter?”
“I just want to see how much you can remember.”
“April…14th.”
The doctor smiled.
“Yes. What hand do you write with?”
Stiles paused…What hand do I write with? It had been so long since he had
written anything. Marcus never needed him to do that. Stiles’ handwriting was
awful.
“My…left,” it was more of a question than an answer.
“What state are we in?”
“Washington.”
“What city?”
“Seattle.”
Next, the doctor held up a set of pictures. “Do you recognize any of these
people?”
“Maybe. Maybe I saw a couple in passing somewhere…or something. I don’t know
any of them… I don’t think.”
“You did good Stiles. Now rest. I’ll be back in a little while.”
“No! Wait! What about Marcus? Where is he!?”
“He’s safe. Now rest.”
“Doctor. How is he? Is he awake yet?”
“Yes he is bu –“
“I have to go see him.”
“No Sheriff, I’m sorry. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? You examined him right? He’s fine isn’t he?!”
“I did a cognitive interview with him. He’s having a hard time remembering… a
lot.”
“Like…like what?”
“He doesn’t know where we are even though his doctors told me they told him
where we are when he awoke the first time. He doesn’t remember which hand he
writes with. And, when I showed him the pictures of Scott, President Obama, Mr.
Harris (yes, the teacher), and Beyoncé (it was no secret he was her biggest fan
and he didn’t care who knew. She’s the queen, okay!) he didn’t recognize any of
them. Said he may have seen a few in passing.”
“What does that mean?”
“Well, along with the obvious case of Stockholm Syndrome he’s exhibiting, I’d
say he suppressed all memories of his normal life when he was with his
kidnapper. I think forgetting about everything on the outside made it easier
for him to cope.”
“Well he…he has to remember eventually right?”
“Most likely. But it will take time. Months, maybe a year or more before he’s
comfortable with this life again. He is devoted to his kidnapper, Marcus
Andrews. Mr. Andrews really did a number on him mentally. He’s lost all sense
of who he is. He’s completely codependent on him. It will take countless hours
of therapy for him to recover from that. And, he still won’t tell anyone what
was done to him but…”
“But what?!”
“I’m only a psychologist, you should talk to his physician for th –“
“Tell me! You read his chart! What happened to my boy?”
“Sir, I am so sorry, but there’s signs of anal penetration, bruises, and
scars.”
“He…he was…I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch Marcus!”
“Sir, you need to calm down. Stiles needs you to be calm. He may remember you.
But, you have to be gentle with him. No physical contact. Don’t push any
subject. Don’t tell him that he was taken. He needs to come to the realization
on his own. The police will need an accurate description of his abuse.”
“They said I can’t talk to him until they do.”
“They are with him now. After the initial interview you can go in. I would
imagine they aren’t going to get anything out of him other than his pleas for
Mr. Andrews.”
“And you would be right about that Doctor,” Detective Burke said, walking down
the hall. “We didn’t get anything from him. He is convinced that he and Marcus,
Mr. Andrews, are in love. He demands to see him.”
“You didn’t tell him anything did you? It could damage his psyche…”
“Doc, we know how to do our jobs. You can see him now Mr. Stilinski. You know
protocol though.”
“Yeah yeah. No filling his head with anything, blah blah. I need to see my
son.”
| |
There was a knock at Stiles’ door and he jumped up in bed desperately hoping to
see Marcus walking through the door. Sadly, it was not him.
“Stiles, do you know who I am?”
Stiles didn’t at first. He didn’t want to. He had lived without him for so
long, gave up all hope of him finding him. Of him even searching for him. He
didn’t want to see the man. He didn’t want to feel all these strange feelings.
He just needed Marcus.
“I don’t know. I don’t want you here.”
“I just want to sit. If that’s okay with you.”
“No, I want Marcus. Not you.”
“Marcus is busy right now. I just came by to see how you are. It’s been a while
you know.”
No answer.
“I thought maybe you wanted to talk some things over. Maybe get some answers?”
Nothing.
“You don’t have any questions?”
“No Dad,” Stiles’ hands flew up over his mouth as soon as the word slipped from
his lips. There he went again, no brain to mouth filter.
“Please, please don’t hit me. I’m sorry. I’m soo sorry. I love you. Please
don’t hit me!” Stiles had learned a long time ago that mentioning any of his
past would elicit beatings from Marcus. He avoided it at all costs.
“Stiles no. I’m…I’m not going to hit you. It’s okay son.”
“I shouldn’t have said that word. He will be mad when he finds out.”
“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
Stiles shrugged, presumably in agreement.
“I am your father. I missed you.”
“Yeah?”
“Of course. It’s been a while since we last saw each other.”
“I don’t remember.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to. I just…I missed you son,” the sheriff said
trying to hide tears forming in his eyes.
“You shouldn’t cry. It’s a sign of weakness.”
“People cry all the time. These are tears of happiness.”
“Still shouldn’t do it.”
The sheriff had run out of things to say.
“You’re the sheriff. You can make them let me see Marcus can’t you?”
“Uh, no. He’s uh, he’s busy.”
“I need to see him. He must be so worried. I love him ya know.”
That was the last thing the sheriff needed to hear.
“Okay, well I have to go Stiles. I love you.”
“Bye.”
| |
When Stiles was finally told of Marcus’ arrest, four days later, he freaked.
“NO! I love him! You can’t do this to us! He loves me! He would never hurt me!
NO!! NO… NO!”
It had taken hours of soothing from his father for him to fall asleep. His
father was the only one the psychiatrist let in to see Stiles at that point.
She was afraid that too many new, old, faces would overwhelm him so Scott and
everyone else kept their distance. But still watched from afar. There was
always someone on the opposing roof, watching. Everyone took turns, even
Allison and Lydia at one point. Well, everyone but Derek. He stayed away from
the whole situation since Stiles’ return. No one asked why.
It was two weeks after he was found that the sheriff took Stiles home. He still
wouldn’t open up about what happened to anyone. Scott and Allison had visited a
couple times and while Stiles recognized them, he still didn’t trust anyone.
Lydia peeked in on him a couple times with Erica and Boyd, just to say hi. He
didn’t say much to any of them either. It was clear that he remembered, or was
at least starting to. He refused to talk to the cops about anything. Whenever
they stopped by, he didn’t say one word. He sat in his room all day and night.
No one knew what he would do in there. His dad peeked in on him and all he ever
saw was Stiles either sitting in his bed staring into space, or him lying on
his bed crying. Whenever he would try to comfort him, Stiles would flinch away
from touch and clam up, saying nothing. His dad took that as a sign and stopped
trying to help. He read a few things about Stockholm Syndrome and suppressed
memories and knew Stiles would eventually open up about everything; in his own
time.
There were people in and out of the house all the time. Family members from far
away that were so glad Stiles was okay. Scott and the pack stopped by almost
every day to see how he was. They would just sit in his room with him,
sometimes in complete silence the entire time. They just relished having him
back. The quiet could be unnerving but no one ever said anything unless Stile
initiated a conversation. They ‘walked on eggshells’ around him; always afraid
of saying the wrong thing and upsetting him.  
That went on for a while, Stiles’ uneasiness never really subsiding. He avoided
leaving his room for anything other than the bathroom and never held extensive
conversations with anyone. He was still so desperately confused, sad, happy,
angry, all at once. All those emotions going on in his head at once made him
kind of crazy. He just wanted to be normal. He knew what Marcus, his Marc, had
done. He had kidnapped him. He had forced him to do things. He broke him down
until Stiles was just a shell of his former self, but he couldn’t tell anyone
that. That would mean he was weak. That would mean that he gave in, gave up
hope. And if they ever found out all the things he and Marcus did, they would
never look at him again. So, he stayed relatively quiet. At least this way,
they still showed up to see him. Everyone but Derek. Stiles never forgot about
Derek.
In the beginning, he imagined he was with Derek, that it was Derek he was doing
things with. He always had dreams about him, even after a year of being there.
Of course, Stiles’ dreams of Derek changed from him rescuing him to him not
wanting him anymore. Derek not speaking to him, not loving him. And that is
what ultimately made Stiles love Marcus. He had convinced himself that Derek
didn’t care or love him, though he never forgot him.
That’s why, after three months of being home, when Derek stopped by, Stiles
smiled for the first time in a long while. He heard a commotion downstairs.
Yelling and slammed doors. Stiles, still naturally inquisitive, cracked his
door to hear what was going on.
“…you can’t be here! It’s been months since he’s been back and you’ve avoided
him and all the rest of us like the plague since then.”
“Derek, I know you are here on good will. But I don’t think it’s a good id –“
“I want to see him.”
There was a collective gasp in the room as Stiles appeared at the top of the
steps. “Can he please come up?”
“Yes, of course son. Derek,” the sheriff pointed up towards Stiles, “please, go
ahead.”
“But sheriff –“
“Scott, go home. He’s fine. I’m here. You need to rest anyway. Go. Now.”
Stiles went back into his room and sat on his bed to wait on Derek. He heard
his faint footsteps getting closer and closer. He wasn’t sure why, but Derek
was the only person he actually wanted to be around.
When he walked into Stiles’ room, Stiles avoided looking up from his blanket on
his bed. He heard his computer chair being pulled out and the air deflating
from the seat as Derek sat. They sat in silence for a while. No one moving,
just each other’s company was enough. Eventually his dad made Derek leave and
Stiles go to bed.
Every day after that, Derek spent his whole day in Stiles’ room. On occasion
they would say hi to one another, but other than that, it was complete,
comfortable silence. They had their first, and truth be told, Stiles’ first
conversation a month after Derek’s first visit. The sheriff had been called out
on a call and entrusted Stiles’ safety to Derek. He knew Derek would keep his
boy safe but it was still hard leaving.
“I didn’t want to.”
It took Derek a moment to register that the voice he had heard was Stiles’.
“You didn’t want to what?”
“Go with him.”
“I figured.”
“I shouldn’t have been so stupid.”
“No one blames you Stiles. It wasn’t your fault.”
“You don’t even know the story do you? No one does.”
“No, I don’t. But I know it wasn’t your fault.”
“It was. I saw that car and I thought I heard yo –a voice and I went down the
bank and he got me.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have. I shouldn’t have been so dumb. The only reason I went down
there was because I thought I heard your…”
“My what?”
“Voice.”
“And you wanted to do a good thing and save someone, Stiles. That’s not
stupid.”
“No, Derek. I didn’t want to save someone, I wanted to save you.”
“It still isn’t your fault.”
“But if I hadn’t gone down there, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to get
me. He wouldn’t have done what he did.”
“What did he do?”
Stiles shook his head.
“You can tell me. Trust me.”
“I don’t trust anyone anymore.”
“You know me. You trust me.”
“I did.”
“You still do or you wouldn’t be talking to me at all.”
“If I tell you….you’ll never come back.”
“Why not?”
“I’m broken. So broken.”
"No you’re not, Stiles.”
“I am, Derek. You don’t know what happened down there.”
“Tell me then.”
“You wouldn’t understand. You’d say I was asking for it. That I deserved it.
Maybe I did.”
“No, Stiles. You didn’t deserve whatever happened to you in the year and a half
you were gone. NONE of it was your fault. You never forget that!”
“But, the things he did,” Stiles said while starting to cry, “I stopped saying
no.”
“It doesn’t mean it was consensual. You were trying to survive. Your survival
instinct kicked in.”
“I should have fought. I shouldn’t have been so weak.”
“You’re not weak. You survived. That’s a good thing.”
“Is it? Is it, Derek? What do I have now? Everyone is afraid to talk to me. My
dad practically pats down anyone who wants to even look at me. The cops still
come over, trying to get me to talk. I don’t want that. I don’t want what he
did to me to be public record. It’s not fair!”
“Stiles, sometimes things happen that aren’t fair. You have to move on and up
in life. Look at Scott. He didn’t want the bite, but he got it and now he’s an
alpha. He’s happy with his, our shared pack. Him getting bitten wasn’t the same
thing that you went through, but it still wasn’t fair.”
“But he suffered a long time before he was happy.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to.”
“Scott’s stronger than me. He always has been.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
“But the things that happened, Derek, how will I ever forget?”
“Maybe you won’t. But you’ll learn to be okay with them and look to the future,
not the past.”
“Is that how you got over the fire?”
“Yeah, mostly.”
“Does it ever get easier? Do you ever have one day where you don’t think about
it?”
Derek shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Are you happy you survived?”
“Yeah, yeah I am. I love life, most of the time. Living is a gift in and of
itself. No one should ever want to die.”
“You’re being really philosophical today.”
“And you’re being really morbid.”
“I just don’t want to regret things. I never did until now.”
“There’s nothing for you to regret.”
“I could have stopped him. I shouldn’t have let him…”
“Let him what?”
“Do things.”
“What things, Stiles? Tell me and I swear you’ll feel relieved.”
The tears returned to Stiles’ eyes. He was so thankful to have Derek. Even if
he didn’t love him, he was still a friend. A really good one who meant well.
But the things that happened to Stiles should never be repeated.
“I can’t tell you.”
“Dammit, Stiles! Man up! Whatever happened is over! Whenever you’re ready to
talk about it for real, give me a call. Otherwise, goodbye.” And Derek walked
out of his room, and perhaps his life. That was another thing on a very long
list of things for Stiles to regret. He just couldn’t talk about what Marcus
did to him. Hell, he couldn’t even say the word in his head let alone out loud.
And the worst part, Derek was right. It was over and Stiles should just get it
off his chest, but he couldn’t. The thought of it brought unavoidable tears to
his eyes and made him shake.
| |
Another three weeks passed by, painfully slowly. Stiles still hadn’t returned
to school. He still refused to talk to anyone; his father, his friends, the
cops, a therapist. No one could understand what he was going though, no matter
how hard they tried they would never understand his pain. No, the only person
he felt he could talk to was Derek. But, he had ruined his chance with Derek.
He had been a coward, nothing new, and screwed up his one chance at mental
liberation. Keeping everything all balled up inside him hurt, but it was worse
knowing that he would never forget. He would never forget the first time he
kissed anyone, Marcus. He would never forget the first time he had sex with
anyone, Marcus. He would never forget the first time he felt physically ill at
the thought of being away from someone, Derek. Derek. Every train of thought
Stiles ventured down always stopped at the same station, Derek. No matter what
he thought about, he always managed to equate it back to Derek and it was
driving him crazy. Staying in his room all the time was driving him crazy.
Being alone was driving him crazy. Having company was driving him crazy. Not
being with Derek was driving him crazy. He had to rectify the situation. But
how? There was no way he was talking about what happened over the phone. There
was no way he was talking about it with his father around. There was no way he
was talking about it with anyone around. There was no way he was talking about
it with anyone but Derek. And so Stiles decided, for the first time in the
almost five months since he’d been home, that he was leaving his house.
The task proved to be more difficult than he thought. He’d walked out of his
front door thousands of times in the past and driven off in his Jeep. But that
was the past, and the present was starting to tell him that that was not such a
good idea. As soon as he opened the door and laid eyes on his Jeep for the
first time since the day he was taken, Stiles’ breath went away. He stumbled
backwards and fell onto the porch, a rush of emotions sending his brain into
overdrive. His father came out to help but to no avail. Stiles had to do this
on his own and sent his father back inside.
Stiles got up and slowly made his way to his Jeep, stopping every few feet to
take deep breathes. Once inside, starting her up and driving was like riding a
bike, he never forgot how. Making his way into town and seeing all of the
stares was another thing altogether. At every red light, every stop sign, there
were people who would recognize his Jeep and stop. They stared, looks of awe
and amazement on their faces as he passed by which is why he was relieved to be
getting to the outskirts of town where Derek lived.
When he pulled up to Derek’s place he put his Jeep in park and just sat there
for a while. Part of him was just afraid to step out of the car and get taken
again. Another part of him was afraid of talking to Derek and saying the wrong
thing. Yet another part of him was afraid Derek would feel the same way as
Stiles and he would have no idea what to do with that reciprocation. But
finally, the last part of him won the battle. That part of him needed to see
Derek, needed to be able to get everything he had been hiding for so long out
into the air.
With that final thought, Stiles stepped out of the Jeep, walked up to the door,
knocked and waited. Stiles wasn’t sure what he expected when, if, Derek opened
up the door. Maybe a ‘Hello, Stiles. I’ve been waiting.’ Or an ‘I don’t want to
see you Stiles. Go home.’ Whatever the case, when Derek opened the door and
said, “What do you want,” Stiles was not prepared. His voice stuttered and his
breath hitched as he tried to find the right words to say. Don’t mess this up
Stilinski. This is your last shot to get it right. You need this.
“Uh, I uh…may I –uh…come in?” That was a good way to start off the
conversation, right?
“Sure,” Derek said and ushered him inside.
“So, answer my question.”
“What question?”
“What do you want?”
“You were right. I was being a child. I needed to man up and take
responsibility for what happened. I need to get over it and move on. I need to
tell someone and I want that someone to be you.”
“Why me?”
“I think you are the only one who can understand, maybe, what I am going
through. Ya know, ‘cause of the fire and all. I don’t think, or at least I hope
you won’t judge me.”
“I guess we will have to wait and see. Do you want something to drink?”
“Water, I guess.”
“I’ll get you bottle. You can take a seat in the living room. Give me a
minute.”
“Okie dokie.”
~| |~
“Here’s your water.”
“Thanks.”
“So, you wanted to talk. So talk.”
“Uh yeah. I umm, I don’t really know what to say.”  
“The truth would be nice, if you can manage.”
“Yeah. I planned on that. I just…it’s not something I’ve wanted to talk about
and I don’t know where to start.”
“At the beginning.”
“That’s a cliché line.”
“It’s the truth though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah sure. I guess. So uhh…well you already know about how Marcus got me in
the first place.”
“Yeah, that much I got.”
“Well, uh..umm…”
“Stiles, it’s okay. No one else is here. It’s just you and me and I swear I’m
not telling a soul about this. Whatever you tell me stays between us.”
“I know. And you were right earlier, I do trust you. You might be the only one
I trust anymore and I don’t know why.”
“I don’t either, honestly. We don’t have the happiest past.”
“Happier than some of my memories.”
“Like?”
“Okay…I do plan on telling you everything. I just have to figure out how. Okay?
So don’t get pissed at me if I stop or stutter a few times. I just…I’m scared
Derek.”
“Of what?”
“Of you never wanting to see me again after I tell you. Of me losing the only
person I want to actually talk to.”
“That’s not going to happen. Stiles, whatever happened, whatever you think you
did that was so bad cannot be any worse than the things I have done.”
“You’re not a bad guy.”
“Neither are you, now tell me everything.”
”So…,” deep breath Stiles, you can do this. “I fractured my ankle when I went
down the hill to the rolled car… He drugged me before he took  me. When Marcus
got me back, he fixed up all of my cuts and set my ankle so that it would heal.
I woke up after all that though. The first thing I remember is the dirt room.
He brought me food. He tried to get me to eat it but I refused. I made him
answer my questions. He said he’d been watching me for exactly a year to the
day. He had cameras everywhere and even knew about werewolves.”
“I never caught his scent.”
“He said he only found out about them because of his time watching me but he
never let you guys deter him. He just made sure to be extra cautious. That’s
when I realized he wasn’t in it to get one of you; he really did just want me.
I froze up and started to cry so he told me he loved me and left. When he came
back and saw that I hadn’t eaten any of the food he brought, he got angry.
Really angry. He yelled at me and hit me…” Derek flinched at the thought. No
one should ever touch a member of his pack like that. He would never let Stiles
out of his sight again.
“He did it a couple of more times until I obeyed and then he changed my clothes
and got into bed with me and went to sleep. It was basically the same routine
every day for a while. He’d wake me up and we’d eat breakfast and he’d check on
all of my injuries and then kiss me and tell me he loved me before going to
work. Eventually he got me a few books and I sat and read or I just thought.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know. Life. What my new life was going to be like.”
“I can tell there’s something you’re hiding.”
“You. I thought about you a lot. Hoped you or Scott or someone would burst
through the door and save me. Life wasn’t good, but it wasn’t bad until I could
I could walk again. The day he figured that out, I…I don’t ever want to think
about again.”
“Breathe. You can do this.”
Stiles nodded.
“He brought me a “gift” and told me to open it… When I did there was…there
was…lube in the box. I freaked out and yelled. Even though I knew I shouldn’t
have, I knew to keep my mouth shut but I didn’t and he hit me. I passed out and
when I woke up…he,” Stiles wept,” had his fingers… They were…in me and I was
powerless… I told him no. Begged him not to. But he didn’t listen. He
rationalized it all and kept going. I just laid there. After he opened me up
with his fingers he put…it in me and I let my mind wander. I pictured it being
anyone else but him. That’s how I got through the days. He’d come down and take
what he wanted and I would just lay there and let him do it. I never tried to
stop him.”
Derek was having a really hard time keeping his wolf in line. He just wanted to
tear Marcus to shreds and enjoy the sound of his screams.
“You couldn’t. That’s not your fault, Stiles. He would have hurt you even worse
if you had fought. You know that.”
“Yeah. I guess.”
“Keep going.”
“I guess eventually, I started to love him back. He wasn’t so bad, ya know.
After I learned to listen he really calmed down. I just stayed in my room and
behaved; he liked that. At some point I started to hate it when he left me. I
started to enjoy the…s –sex.”
“It wasn’t sex, Stiles. He raped you.”
“No, no no no no no! Don’t say that word. That…that’s not what happened. That,
that never happened.”
“It did. You know it. You don’t have to be ashamed, Stiles. He’s the monster,
not you.”
“But I could have stopped him, Derek. I could have fought harder. But I didn’t.
I was weak. I gave in and I started to love him and enjoy it. And I missed him
when he was gone. I missed his voice and hair and his body and his everything,
Derek!”
“He brainwashed you, Stiles. You… you’re better now. It’s okay.”
“That’s just it. I still miss him sometimes. Even though I know I shouldn’t. I
do. I still find myself missing his voice, his smile…him. I can’t make it
stop.”
“You had Stockholm Syndrome. You bonded with him to live. It will take time to
–“
“IT’S BEEN MONTHS! I still have feelings for him! That’s why I can’t go to the
cops! That’s why I can’t tell anyone anything. I don’t want anything bad to
happen to him. I still love him.”
“No, you don’t love him. You’ll get over it. Those false feelings will pass.”
“What if I don’t want them to?”
“Why wouldn’t you want them to?”
“He’s the only person who actually loves me for me. Who actually wants to be
with me. No one else has ever looked at me the way he did.”
“I –there are people out there that love you. Your dad, Scott –“
“But they aren’t in love with me! Marcus is. He knows me. More about me than
anyone. He cares, Derek. He cares.”
“I care, Stiles. I care about you.”
“But not like him.”
“Maybe.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Maybe I do care more about you than just a pack mate. Maybe there is more to
what I feel. I don’t know. But you aren’t changing the subject. Keep going.
Tell me the rest.”
“Fine. After being there a year, he let me go upstairs. I did his cooking and
cleaning and in return he would find ways to make me happy.”
“Like what?”
“He let me watch TV for a little while. He let me lay in his bed with him. We
even slept there a few times after…yeah. It was all good until the day my dad
found us. I still don’t even know how he did. Marcus was always careful. He did
some hocus pocus stuff and masked my scent when I was upstairs with him that
way no one, werewolves, could pick it up. When he was gone I stayed in my room
downstairs; the door always locked. He kept me safe from all the supernatural
creatures. The day I was found, he forgot to lock the door and came rushing
back. I guess he thought I’d have run away but I would have never done that to
him. I stopped checking the door a few weeks in to my stay. He…we…exhausted
ourselves and fell asleep in each other’s arms and then my dad was taking me
away.”
“Marcus must have forgotten to cover your scent before he went down. That’s how
we found you. I –the pack was out scenting and –“
“Wait. Why were you guys in Washington?”
“We weren’t. You were never in Washington. He must have told you that to deter
you from running. You were an hour away from here the whole time.”
“Oh my God. And you guys never stopped looking?”
“No. We searched every day. Even Peter helped. We went as far as the state line
one time but I –we couldn’t feel your presence that far away. We knew you had
to be in California still. We went out every day and hunted for you. A few
months in, Scott told your dad about werewolves. Your dad was always saying
that we should stay out of it and that we could be no help.”
“So Scott thought it was okay to drop that bombshell on my father!? He was
already stressed out enough, he didn’t need that!”
“He took it well and welcomed our help. One day Scott and I were out together
and we smelled it. You. And we knew. We knew we had finally found you and we
ran towards your scent. When we got to the house we called your dad and told
him we had found you and he came right away and brought you home.”
“But neither of you two were there when I was found. I only remember my dad and
an EMT; the one who had to sedate me.”
“The sheriff thought it would be suspicious to have us just ‘stumble upon’ you,
so he made us come home.”
“And you stayed away for three months, why?”
“I was never far. And the pack always had someone watching you. While you were
in the hospital you weren’t allowed visitors because of your…uh, state of mind.
So, they set up camp on the opposing roof and watched you through your window.
There was always someone watching.”
“My dad never told me that. Not that he told me anything else but…”
“He didn’t know. He needed to focus on you and not worry while you were watched
over. Even Allison and Lydia took a couple turns.”
“That was sweet of you guys. Thanks.”
“I –we wish we could have found you sooner.”
“It wasn’t your fault Derek. Isn’t that what you told me? We couldn’t have
prevented this?”
“I should have found you sooner! I should have been a better alpha. I should
have trained you to watch for things like that. I should have picked up on him
watching you! A WHOLE YEAR! I was oblivious to him watching your every move for
an entire year?! What kind of ma –protector am I!?”
“You’re a great one. It wasn’t only you that missed it. Scott, Boyd, Erica, my
dad the sheriff; you all missed it. Even me.”
“I shouldn’t have. We have a special bond. I should have felt that you were in
danger. I should have been able to stop it or at least found you before…”
“Wait…a special bond? Wha –what is that?”
“You’re pack. I can feel you all at all times. I can feel your presences. I
should have tried harder to feel yours.”
“I’m sure you and everyone else did all you could. I don’t blame you guys. Not
at all.”
“But that’s just it. I could have done more.”
“Like what, Derek? Short of having me on a leash, there was no way you could
have been there…”
“Mates, Stiles. I could have made you my mate. The bond would have been so
strong that I could have tracked you to fucking Iceland!”
And wow, that was not at all what Stiles was expecting. Sure, the conversation
had been difficult, and he may have left out a few details, but all in all it
was a success. Now all of a sudden, Derek throws around words like ‘mate’ and
‘bond’. Stiles never really expected Derek to reciprocate his feelings towards
him. It was no secret that Stiles was bi. Just like it was no secret that Derek
dabbled on ‘both sides of the fence’. But…could he really, actually like
Stiles?
“You wouldn’t have just ‘mated’ with me to keep a closer eye on me. You’d have
to do that with the other humans in the pack too.”
“You’re right; I wouldn’t have done it just to keep a better watch on you.”
Stiles knew it. Derek was just venting his guilty, self-loathing feelings. This
had nothing to do with Stiles.
"Yeah well, it was a good thought anyway.”
“No, Stiles, you don’t understand. I –we, wanted you to be ours.”
“You…I’m sorry you what?” Aaaaand Stiles is confused. Profusely.
“The part of me that is wolf, it yearns for a mate; someone to call its own. It
liked you. I grew to like you and we agreed that you’re perfect.”
“So…so you and it just sat down one day and had a chat?”
“No, Stiles. That’s not how it works. I feel what it feels. It’s a part of me,
my soul. Something about you pleased it. But that had no bearing on how I felt.
I still saw you as the annoying teen that really had an affinity for getting
himself into trouble.”
“Gee thanks.”
“But over time, I grew to like you. And then one day, out of the blue, I wanted
you too. I shouldn’t have been a coward about my feelings. If I had just told
you –“
“How do you know I would have agreed?”
“I don’t. But at least then I would have known that I would have at least tried
everything.”
There was a brief pause of silence as both men tried to figure out the next
best thing to say.
“So you don’t anymore?”
“Don’t what?”
“You and it don’t want me anymore? You don’t think I am perfect anymore?”
“Wha –no!? That’s…I never said that.”
“You said that you ‘wanted’ me to be yours and that your wolf ‘liked’ me.
That’s past tense.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s what you said though.”
“Well I didn’t mean it like it sounded.”
“Yeah you do. I knew I shouldn’t have told you. Now you and your wolf think I’m
broken. Some dirty garbage left out on the street or something. No one wants to
touch this anymore. No will ever want me again. I’m gonna –“
“Stiles! Stop it.”
“It’s true isn’t it?”
“No. No it’s not. We still want you. We still like you. We still think you are
perfect.”
Stiles didn’t know what to say or do. He really wanted to be happy that he
could finally have Derek if he wanted. He really wanted to be happy that the
conversation hadn’t gone too terribly badly. He really wanted to happy that he
could feel the relief creeping over him. But he couldn’t. There was still the
part of him that didn’t completely accept that Marcus was all bad. A part that
still saw him as the loving boyfriend that kept him safe and made him happy.
There was no way he could jump into something with Derek knowing those kinds of
feelings still existed somewhere inside of him.
“I –uh…I should go.”
“No, Stiles. Wait.” Stiles got up and walked towards the door.
“Thanks for listening.”
“Stiles…” And he was out the door before Derek could finish.
| |
Back home, lying on his own bed, nothing still made any sense. He let himself
drift asleep before he worried himself with his thoughts.
“Please don’t. Please.” “I told you babe, I’m gonna make it good for you. I
promise.” “Please, I don’t…I never…” “I know. That makes me love you even more.
I’m gonna be your first and your last.” Marcus kept working Stiles open, adding
a fourth finger. I burned like Hell, and no matter how hard he tried, Stiles
couldn’t relax his muscles. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want Marcus to do
this to him. Sure, he hated being a virgin, but if this was how he was going to
lose it, he’d rather be one forever. “Marcus please…,” Stiles whimpered through
salty tears and rancid sweat. He tried to get his limbs to work; to get his
arms up in defense but he couldn’t. Nothing would move.  He lay there,
helpless; screaming in his head when his voice stopped working.
“Derek, I don’t know what to do. I can’t get him to wake up!”
“Where is he?”
“In his room. I’m afraid he’s going to have a panic attack in his sleep!”
“Stay here. I got him.” Derek ran up to Stiles’ room and quietly went over to
his bed. He instantly knew what he was having a nightmare about. The fear and
loathing oozed off of him and filled the room.
“Stiles. Stiles, you need to wake up,” Derek tried. He rolled him over so that
he was on his back with Derek’s hands firmly on his shoulders.
“NOOOOOOO! No please don’t. Someone help me please! Please don’t.
Pleeeeaaaaase.”
“Stiles, I know you can hear me. It’s just a dream. Wake up. Please Stiles.”
“Stop him, please. Derek stop him,” Stiles wept in his sleep. That plea, even
from a sleeping Stiles, set Derek’s wolf into a frenzy. It didn’t want Stiles
to suffer; didn’t want him to be scared.
“Stiles,” Derek growled commandingly, “wake up.”
Stiles jolted awake. He would have sat straight up if it weren’t for Derek’s
strong hands on his shoulders.
“No. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please don’t hit me, please Marc.
I love you, please don’t,” Stiles rambles as he closes his eyes again and
braces for impact. Derek takes a moment to humanize himself before speaking.
“It’s me, it’s Derek. Stiles, you are okay. I have you. He’s never going to
hurt you again. Open your eyes.”
Stiles’ eyes slowly flutter open.  “Derek?” It was a soft whisper that would
have been hard to hear if Derek hadn’t been part wolf.
“Yeah, Stiles. It’s me. Shhh.” Derek took his hands off of Stiles’ shoulders
and took a step back to give the younger man some space.
“I…w –why are you here?”
“I called him, son,” the sheriff said as he carefully stepped into Stiles’
room.
“I couldn’t get you to wake up. I didn’t know who else to call. Are you okay?”
“Yeah Dad. I’m fine. Can uh, can I talk to Derek alone?”
“Of course. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” he said before walking out
and shutting the door.
“You can leave now.”
“I thought you said you wanted to talk?”
“I didn’t want to make it look like I wasn’t grateful in front of my dad. But,
he’s not here. So you can go now.”
“What was your nightmare about?”
“I wasn’t having a nightmare. I was just in a deep sleep.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.”
“You were yelling in your sleep.”
“Derek, please just leave.” Stiles was starting to lose the false bravado he
had put on. His courage was rapidly depleting and he needed to be alone. No one
was going to see him cry. Crying means weakness.
“I’m not going anywhere. You have to talk about this and you know it. Why delay
the inevitable?”
“Because…if I don’t talk about it…it’s not real.”
“It’s already real. You have to realize that before you have any chance to move
on.”
“The fire teach you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Well I don’t think talking about it helps everyone.”
“You do know I can hear your heartbeat right? I know when you’re lying.”
“Whatever. I don’t want to talk about it. Please. Leave.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Please talk to me. I’ll sit in your
computer chair and listen. I won’t say a word.” Derek sat down and waited
patiently.
“The first time…I didn’t want him to. I tried to make him stop but…I couldn’t
move or talk anymore and I pleaded for someone to help me in my head. I pleaded
for you to help me. For a long time, the only reason I didn’t kill myself after
he was done was because I pictured it being you. I always pictured you…”
Derek kept his promise and stayed silent.
“You can say something now. Anything.”
“How can you still love him? Even when you know what he did to you.”
“He wasn’t always mean. He cared. He tried. I know I shouldn’t…but I see the
good in him.”
“There is no good in him. He raped you and brainwashed you. That’s it.”
“I told you not to say that! That didn’t happen. It…no.”
“Just say it. Say it and I promise you’ll feel better. Those ‘feelings’ you
have for him will vanish once you acknowledge what he has done.”
“He…” *sniffle* “He r…” *sob* “raped…me.”
And Stiles broke down. He cried into his hands, rolled over and cried into his
sheets. He pulled his covers up to his chin and clutched them in his fists. It
was all too real. It was all too true. Marcus…his Marc, had raped him. Over and
over until he became so unaware of his true self he actually believed he loved
the guy. All the memories of him getting hit again and again. Of Marcus
depriving him of humanity. How had he forgotten all of that? How could he have
been so stupid?
“So stupid…so, so stupid!”
“Stiles, you’re not stupid. You are the smartest one out of our pack.”
“No, no I’m not. I fell for it. I did exactly what he wanted. I should have
fought. I should have been stronger.”
“You are strong, Stiles. The pack needs you, we need you and I need you.”
“You don’t mean that. You just feel bad.”
“You can’t hear it, but my heartbeat didn’t falter.”
“I want to believe you, but –“
“I know. I don’t expect you to be ready for anything any time soon. Just know
that I am never that far away. I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”
And dammit, Stiles was crying again. “Can you…I’m really tired. Can you just
lay here with me? Until I fall asleep?”
“Until you get tired of me.”
“That works too.”
Stiles uncurled himself from his pillow and blankets while Derek took off his
shoes and jacket. He thought it best to deal with probably not sleeping because
he would be too hot in his clothes, to avoid freaking Stiles out. Not that he
would be sleeping anyway; he planned on watching Stiles for as long as
possible.
There was a long silence after they got comfortable; Stiles laying on one of
Derek’s outstretched arms. None of the rest of their bodies were touching. Baby
steps at first. One day Stiles would be able to snuggle up close to Derek. One
day they would be able to go a whole day without thinking about what Stiles
went through. One day Stiles would be able to tell someone else about what
happened over that year and a half. But, for now, Stiles would take what he
could get.
“Derek?”
“Yes, Stiles?”
“Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
End Notes
     Wow, that was brutal right? But it was a good ride, yeah?
     I know I am always making our boys hurt, mainly Stiles, but it's all
     in the name of Sterek.
     The medical stuff in here, all BS. Pretty much went by what I heard
     on TV at one point or another. It's just there to further the plot.
     Please let me know if I missed a tag.
     As always, I am forever looking to make my writing better so
     Constructive Criticism is always welcome.
     Do NOT use this as a guide to how to appropriately handle rape/
     kidnapping.
     You can look for updates on upcoming fics on my Tumblr... Come chat
     with me! =) cultofwerewolves.tumblr.com
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