Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/583174.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Teen_Wolf_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Derek_Hale/Stiles_Stilinski, Derek_Hale/Kate_Argent, Allison_Argent/Scott
      McCall
  Character:
      Derek_Hale, Stiles_Stilinski, Scott_McCall, Kate_Argent, Laura_Hale,
      Chris_Argent, Allison_Argent, Gerard_Argent, Sheriff_Stilinski
  Additional Tags:
      Mythology_-_Freeform, Minor_Character_Deaths, Implied_Underage, Alternate
      Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, Self-Harm, Suicide_Attempt, Oral_Sex, Anal
      Sex, Implied_Torture, Aftermath_of_Torture
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-12-04 Updated: 2012-12-26 Chapters: 5/6 Words: 28566
****** The Boy in the Woods ******
by bluewolf_(sarcasmandirony)
Summary
     An alternate universe where Derek meets Stiles when he's still a
     teenager and both Peter and Laura die in the fire.
Notes
     Additional tags, warnings and characters will be added as I post it.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter Summary
     Derek finds a boy crying in the woods.
Chapter Notes
     Derek is fifteen and Stiles is eight years old at the beggining of
     the fic, the entire chapter comprising a year and a half.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Derek was hidden within the shadows, beside a pine tree. He was staring at a
young boy lying on the ground, crying helplessly. Derek had been doing one of
his afternoon sprints when he heard the boy’s heartbreaking and unbearable cry,
unable to walk away.
After a while, and beside his father warnings to avoid humans as much as
possible, Derek walked silently towards the boy. He kneeled beside him and laid
a careful hand in his shoulder.
The boy froze, suddenly quiet and still beneath the stranger’s touch. Looked
carefully at the man, they boy’s eyes, swollen and dry, widened.
“Who are you?” The boy muttered in a low voice, barely audible against the
sleeve of his hoodie.
“Name’s Derek.” Derek answered in a soft and unusual tone. “Yours?”
“Stiles. I’m the sheriff’s son.” Stiles whispered, sort of like a warning and
shit. Finding the sheriff’s son in the middle of the woods, probably lost,
would definitely draw unwanted attention. His father would be furious.
Derek sighed. “What’s wrong Stiles?” He asked.
Stiles buried his head between his arms. “My mom… She died. At least that’s
what they said – the doctors. My dad said she was gone, which isn’t true, not
really. She’s still in the hospital. Everyone knows where she is.” Stiles
whispered amongst sobs.
When Derek was about to retort, Stiles looked at him with wide eyes. “She
looked like she was sleeping! Oh my god, what if she was just sleeping? What if
she wakes up, buried twenty feet underground?” Stiles asks, horrified.
Derek runs a hand reassuringly through Stiles’ back. “Shush.” Derek whispers in
a soft tone. “Doctors are smart. They’d never make a mistake like that. I
promise.”
“So… My mom really is dead?” Stiles asked with a whimper.
Derek swallowed, gathering up some courage. “Yes.”
Stiles nods and stays silent for a while. Derek just waits, letting the boy
adjust to this new reality. Though Derek didn’t know how one could ever adjust
to their whole world crumbling, shattering around them, let alone a small
little boy.
“My mom… She was in a lot of pain towards the end…” Stiles let out a sob,
incapable of proceeding. Derek could smell fear, sadness and a tiny pinch of a
hope in the boy’s scent but, even if he couldn’t, Stiles’ unspoken words
would’ve been clear to anyone.
“Wherever she is, your mother is at peace now. No pain.” Derek said as he
swallowed again.
Stiles crawled out of his spot between the autumn leaves, his knees skinned,
and wrapped his tiny fragile arms around Derek’s neck – Stiles’ head buried in
Derek’s chest. Derek, who was caught completely by surprise, hugged Stiles
back.
Truth be told, he had never been spiritual, nor he believed in God. But, for
this one little boy he’d just met, a boy that broke and warmth his heart all at
once, he wished his words were true.
They stayed like that, with Stiles tearing up from time to time, for what
seemed like hours. But then again, it could’ve easily been only a few minutes
before Stiles looked at him with wide innocent brown eyes. This close, Derek
could count each mole on the boy’s face.
“I’m ready to go home now.” He said in a whisper.
“Okay.” Derek nodded. “Do you want me to go with you?”
“Please.” Was Stiles only answer and although Derek would’ve probably followed
him, because he’d never let the boy walk alone through the forest in the middle
of the night, his pleading voice broke his heart.
Derek stood up, keeping Stiles closely against his chest. He carried the boy
safely out of the woods until they got to the main road leading into town. The
wind blew and Derek immediately heard a police siren coming their way.
“Your father’s the sheriff.” Derek said.
Stiles nodded against Derek’s wet shirt.
Derek tilted his head towards the town. “Can you hear that?”
Stiles tilted his head to the side, as to try to listen to the faint sound. His
mouth opened widely, in fear. “It’s sirens! They’re looking for me… Dad is
going to kill me!” He whined, burying his face in Derek’s shirt.
Derek chuckled as he dropped Stiles by the side of the road. The young boy
pouted and Derek rolled his eyes. The boy was safe now. There was no need
taking unnecessary risks, Derek reminded himself.
“You can never tell anyone that I carried you out.” Derek pleaded, squatting to
match Stiles’ height.
“Why?” Stiles asked. “Are you some kind of criminal?” He added, more curious,
and intrigued than actually fearful. Derek rolled his eyes again. Clearly being
the sheriff’s son had thought him nothing about the dangers of the world. Then
again, he was just a kid.
“Just trust me.” Derek said as a beam of light hit them.
Stiles looked to his side when his eyes adapted to the cruiser’s headlights,
only to find out that Derek wasn’t there anymore. A deputy got out of the car,
asking Stiles if he was okay. After looking around and asking Stiles if there
hadn’t been a man with him, just a few seconds ago, Stiles replying with a weak
‘no’, his heart skipping just the slightest bit, he took Stiles to the police
vehicle, telling him about how worried his dad was.
Derek watched, hidden in the shadows, as the car drove off – Stiles looking
through the window, towards the darkened forest, with squinting eyes.
---
Stiles came back to the forest a week later, calling for Derek in a high
pitched voice. Derek went to meet him after promising his parents he would
explain everything to them later, having not yet told them about their previous
encounter.
He found Stiles roaming around in the woods.
“You shouldn’t have come.” Derek said, appearing from between the vegetation.
Stiles looked at him, his eyes sore like he had been crying. There were dark
circles beneath his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in days. His expression also
seemed older, somehow.
“My dad… He does nothing but drink and cry and I don’t know what to do to help
him.” Stiles said with a tear fell down Stiles’ face.
Derek sighed and approached the young boy, inviting him to sit on the grass.
Derek sit beside him, holding an arm around Stiles’ shoulder and they talked
about how each person deals with grieve differently.
Stiles told him how he had panic attacks almost every night and how he’s dad
would stay with him until he calmed down, until Stiles went back to sleep.
Derek told him that both the panic attacks and the drinking would eventually
stop. And they eventually did. Stiles’ visits didn’t though.
---
Derek was sitting against a tree when he heard Stiles calling him out. Derek
smiled. Stiles’ dad hadn’t drink in a while, so they met only once a week now,
instead of everyday. Stiles’ visits were something Derek looked forward to,
each week.
“Hi, Derek!” Stiles greeted. “Get up and play with me.”
Derek sighed, standing up.
“Don’t be like that, you love my visits.” Stiles pointed out. “They’re the
highest point of your day.”
Derek neither confirmed nor denied, choosing to take a closer look at Stiles
instead. The boy was carrying a baseball ball, bat and glove, as well as his
ridiculous hoodie. Derek rolled his eyes.
Without much of a choice in the matter, Stiles immediately handed him the glove
and the ball.
Apparently, the sheriff had been teaching his son how to play baseball, which
led to an hilarious afternoon of Stiles almost never batting the ball. Of
course it was all Derek’s fault, Stiles complained.
According to the young boy, Derek and the sheriff were both awful pitchers.
Stiles somehow managed to, in one of the few times he actually hit it, throw
the ball somewhat high. Derek jumped and grabbed it with ease. Only when he
looked at Stiles’ shocked expression – mouth open and eyes wide – did he
remember that not every teenager could do the things he could, like jumping ten
feet into the air.
None of them mentioned it, though, apart from Stiles’ whispered cheater.
After a few hours (time flew by when they were together), Stiles was on his way
to leave when he turned back and looked at Derek with curious eyes.
“Why do you always roll your eyes when I wear my hoodie?” Stiles asked.
“Because it’s ridiculous.” Derek answered dryly.
Stiles’ mouth fell, looking down at his hoodie as if Derek had just insulted
the entire human race. It was slightly amusing. “Why? I think it’s funny. And
smart. Witty.”
“Why?” Derek asked in return.
Stiles flapped his arms, as to show of the hoodie. “Well, it’s red, like in the
story, little red riding hood. But, the hood is shaped like a wolf’s head.”
Stiles explained, putting on the hood, the little fabric teeth hanging just
over his eyebrows. He looked at Derek, his arms stretched, his hands opening
and closing, as if waiting for a glimpse of sudden understanding in Derek’s
eyes.
“That’s exactly why I think it’s ridiculous.” Derek said with a huff.
Stiles’ mouth opened even more. “You have no sense of humor, Derek Hale.” Then,
Stiles smiled childishly. “See you next week.” He chanted as he left.
---
Stiles and Derek were both sitting against a tree. It was cold, so Derek had
handed Stiles the leather jacket he had actually stole from his sister. The
young boy still shivered, tough.
“Stiles, maybe you should go back home. I don’t want you getting sick.” Derek
said, trying to mimic his mom’s voice when she tried to made them do things
they didn’t want to do.
Stiles shook his head against Derek’s shoulder. “No, I’m fine.” He said, after
what he was silent for a while, the only noise the sound of his teeth tilting
against each other. Derek was pondering picking Stiles up and taking him home
himself. “Besides, there’s something I want to ask you.”
Derek smiled with fondness. “Has this something to do with Lydia Martin?” He
pointed at the bag Stiles had brought with him. “Is that for her?” Derek asked.
Stiles glanced quickly at the bag, like he had forgotten it was even there.
“No. It has nothing to do with Lydia. I don’t even think she knows I exist.
Giving her a present would be completely and utterly pointless.” Stiles shook
his head. “No, I need to ask you something. About you.”
“Oh.” Was Derek’s only response. Stiles took that has his cue.
“Your eyes were blue the first time we met. And shiny.” Stiles started and
shit. “You jump really high.” Shit, shit, shit.“You live in the woods. You
never meet me in the full moon. You are homeschooled. Your family almost never
goes into town.”
Shit.Derek closed his eyes. Shit.In that moment he knew that, if Stiles asked,
he would tell him the truth, no matter the risks.
The boy did something much worse in the end, tough.
“All of that is connected, right?” Stiles asked.
“Yes.” Derek answered.
Stiles just nodded, seemingly happy with just that.
Stiles, this loyal, incredibly smart and hyperactive young boy trusted Derek
for no tangible reason, even if Derek was unworthy of that trust. Derek didn’t
know if to hug him or shake him for being so foolish.
He did none of those, though.
They just stayed in silence, leaning against each other, until Stiles’
shivering became unbearable. “Will you go home, now?” Derek asked.
“Hum, I guess.” Stiles got up, handing the bag to Derek. “It’s for you.”
“I can’t.” Derek was able to mutter, after the initial shock.
“Derek, this year we’re having a real Christmas. I’m not panicking, my dad
isn’t drinking. We have a tree. The McCall’s are coming and I really wish you
could come too, but you can’t, because of your secret and your family and I get
it. I do. But during Christmas people buy presents to people they like. It’s
the normal thing to do. I want this Christmas to be normal, Derek, even if it’s
not. Even if she’s not here. So, please, just take the stupid bag.” Stiles
said, with teary eyes. Derek could feel how much strength it took from the
little boy just to keep the tears inside.
Derek picked the bag out of Stiles’ shaky hands. “I didn’t get you anything.”
Derek said, feeling somehow guilty.
Stiles handed the leather jacket back to Derek, with a smile on his face.
“Well, after you see what I bought you, you’ll feel the urge to kill me. So, no
biggy.” Stiles said with a shrug, running away.
Derek rolled his eyes.
He only checked the bag when he got home. There were two presents inside, each
one with a individual note. One was a rainbow stripped t-shirt.
Derek, I think I’ve never seen you in nothing that’s not gray or black.
Remember, color is your friend, not your enemy.
The other one was a red glass wolf pendant.
Derek, this wolf pendant reminded me of my hoodie, and of your dry and non-
existent sense of humor. Remember, humor is your friend, not your enemy.
Derek shook his head, a low growl coming from his throat.
Stiles was unbelievable.
---
Derek was sitting on a tree branch, waiting, when he heard steps coming closer.
“Derek?” Stiles called.
Derek jumped from the tree, landing on the ground with a small thud. Stiles
turned around, towards the noise, a wide smile on his face, and hugged Derek.
“I’ve missed you and I’m so sorry I didn’t come last week. My dad had a few
days off of work because of the holidays and I had to attend boring holiday
meetings with my boring family who pinches my cheeks, pats my head, asks about
school and talks about how big I am. Cue the awkward silences.” Stiles rambled.
“It’s fine. It’s not like I spent all my time alone in the forest. I have a
life and family, too, you know?” Derek reassured.
“Oh, he jokes.” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand. “Come with me, Derek.” Stiles said
and Derek throttled along.
“Where are we going?” Derek asked.
“My house.” Stiles answered.
Derek stopped and Stiles is pushed back, falling unto the ground.
“Ouch.” Stiles complains as Derek helps him get up, shaking the dust from his
behind.
“I can’t go to your house, Stiles.” Derek said, crouching down so he was on
Stiles’ level.
Stiles rolled his eyes, grabbing Derek’s hand. “I’m not stupid, Derek. My dad
is working and you’ll get through the window. And don’t you roll your eyes at
me. I have tons of new games and I want you, my friend, to play them with me.”
Stiles said, pushing at Derek’s arm with no result.
“What about Scott or your dad?” Derek asked.
“Scott always loses and my dad lets me win! C’mon, I know you probably never
played games before, like ever in your life, you probably just stare in the
mirror and act all serious, but it’ll be fun, games are fun, Derek. I’ll even
teach you how to play.”
Derek sighed and let himself be carried away. They got to Stiles house in half
an hour and Stiles left him in the backyard as he ran towards the front of the
house. Derek waited by the backdoor as he heard Stiles getting in and running
across the house and towards the door, letting Derek in and dragging him to the
basement where the console was.
Stiles wasn’t kidding. He had tons of new games. Some of them he had got last
year, but hadn’t been able of opening until recently.
Derek and Stiles played multiplayer and co-op games all afternoon. Stiles eyes
were on Derek most of the time, he noticed. Every time he swore or shouted at
the TV, every time he laughed, Stiles’ eyes were on him, like he was seeing
Derek for the first time.
“Cheater.” Stiles said while getting up from the couch to turn off the console.
It was late and the sheriff was probably coming home any second now.
Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, I play games at my house too. Sometimes I even
play them with my brothers, you know, actual human beings.”
Stiles eyes lit and he jumped back unto the couch. “You have brothers? You
never talk about your family! Are they older? Younger? Do you have any brother
my age? Do you hang out together a lot?” Stiles asked, filled with curiosity,
and the questions just kept on coming.
“Stiles, stop.” Derek said, laughing. “I can only answer one question at a
time. Besides, your dad’s car just parked outside.” He warned.
Stiles looked up, confuse, and back at Derek, his eyes sparkling like he had
just figured out a new part of an exciting puzzle.
Derek sighed. “I’ll tell you all about my family some other time. I promise.”
Derek said.
Stiles nodded. “I had a great time.”
Derek smiled. “Goodbye, Stiles.” And he was gone as the front door opened.
---
“Derek.” Stiles said, after taking a lick out of his melting ice cream. “My dad
is sending me to summer camp this summer. It’s going to be really cool, and
Scott is coming as well and my dad arranged for us to be in the same cabin. So,
yeah, best summer ever. But I… won’t be able to see you.” He said, looking at
Derek with wide eyes. Like this, Stiles’ face only illuminated by the sunrays
coming through the holes between the leaves, he looked almost angelic, or as an
angel would look with ice cream all over his hands, nose and mouth.
“It’s okay, Stiles. I actually wanted to talk to you about our meetings. I’ve
been pondering about getting a job this summer and through next year to gather
money for when I go to college. I also met this one girl the other day, at the
beach, and we actually arranged to meet tonight… Stiles, where are you going?”
Derek asked when Stiles got up.
“Away. As you said, you’re going to be busy and I don’t want to be a burden.
Good luck with your girlfriend.” Stiles said, walking away.
Derek could smell that the boy felt hurt, he just didn’t know why.
“Stiles, don’t be like that.” Derek said, getting up. “We can still meet
sometimes, only not as often and at different hours. Stiles!” He called, but
the boy didn’t look back.
Stiles started to run, the stick from his ice cream falling on the ground and
Derek almost swore he heard him sob. It broke his heart knowing he was the one
to make Stiles feel like that.
Even if he didn’t exactly know the reason.
Derek went by Stiles’ house the next day and heard laughter coming from what he
imagined was Stiles’ room. He must’ve been with Scott McCall, because Derek
could hear them talk about summer camp.
Derek let Stiles be.
As time went by, Derek realized that Stiles probably wanted to close this
chapter of his life, one painful chapter that started with his mother’s death.
Even if it hurt Derek a little, even if he had grown accustomed to the boy’s
laughter, playfulness and constant babbling, he understood Stiles’ decision.
With the end of summer, his time was taken almost in its entirety by school,
work and Kate and it didn’t left him much time to think about Stiles.
The boy didn’t look for him either, until that faithful day where everything
changed.
Chapter End Notes
     Thanks for reading and I will try to update it soon!
***** Chapter 2 *****
Chapter by sarcasmandirony
Chapter Summary
     Kate happens.
Chapter Notes
     So, this alludes to feelings for a minor (between a 18 year old and a
     12 year old). The sexual attraction is only from Stiles' side, Derek
     is no pervert!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
“Are you ever going to return my leather jacket?” Laura asks, standing by the
door of his room, arms crossed across her chest while Derek’s tying his shoes,
the leather jacket lying in the bed beside him.
“No, it’s too big for you, anyway.” Derek replied, getting up and putting it
on.
“I’ll tell mom and dad.” Laura warned.
“Oh, will you?” Derek asked, lifting a brow. “Then maybe I’ll tell them why the
jacket is too big for you. Your ex-boyfriend might’ve been a jerk, but I don’t
think our parents will be all that happy with you stealing.”
A vocal vibrant laugh was heard from one of the other rooms in the house –
Mark.
Laura looks in the direction of the noise, off guard, and sends Derek a dirty
look, quickly closing the door of his room, like that would keep Mark from
dropping in on their conversation. “Shut up, dumbass. If our parents were home,
I’d skin you.” Laura threatened.
Derek smirked. “You would try.”
Laura shows him his tongue and Derek couldn’t believe she was actually older
than him, from the way she behaved sometimes. Then she jumped on top of his
cabinet, eyeing him knowingly.
“So, are you going to see Stiles?” She asked.
Derek furrowed his eyebrows. They didn’t talked about the boy a lot, but Derek
had seen him for a year and a half and he still hadn’t told anyone about Kate,
so they probably thought that, whenever he was thought, he was probably with
him. “No.” He said, wishing that werewolves didn’t came with attached lie
detectors. It would’ve made everything much easier. “I haven’t seen Stiles in
over a year.”
 Laura seemed confused, but then her expression was replaced by something else
– suspicion. “Why? I mean, everyone noticed you were kind of upset last year,
but then things…” Laura trailed off, tilting her head, thoughtful, like she had
just figured something out.
“I don’t really know.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” Derek sighed. He really didn’t want to talk about this. “I
just told him I wouldn’t have much time to see him during the summer, but he
was going to a summer camp anyway.” Derek pinched the bridge of his nose. “I
also told him about Kate.”
“Who is Kate?” Laura asked, lifting an eyebrow – a glim in her eyes.
“My girlfriend.” He said, approaching Laura as her mouth widened in a wolfish
grin, placing his hands in her knees. “Don’t even think about telling mom and
dad, Laura, she’s… older.”
“How older?”
“It doesn’t matter. My birthday is coming soon and then it won’t matter,
anyway. Promise me.” He pleaded, his tone serious.
“Derek, honey” Laura started, cupping his face in her hands “I would never tell
our parents, since I can see she’s not harming you, and neither will Mark.”
Laura warned, increasing her volume just a bit.
“Yeah, yeah.” Mark muttered, distracted by something. He was probably playing
some game from the clicking noises and the muffled noise.
Laura looked back at Derek. “You’ve known her for a year.” She whispered, more
to herself than to Derek, thinking about something.
“Laura…”
“I won’t t tell our parents!”
“Then why do you smell like this?”
Laura rolled her eyes. “Because I’m holding something back, I am.” Laura got
up, patting him on the shoulders. “You’ll find out why Stiles left, eventually.
In the meantime, have fun running off with your cougar.” Laura said with a
wink, running out and closing the door as Derek threw a ball towards her.
---
Derek and Kate are sat down at the beach – Kate sprawled in between Derek’s
legs, her head resting in Derek’s stomach.
A slightly autumnal breeze sets in as Derek lays a kiss in Kate’s hair,
listening to Kate’s steady heartbeat, the waves bursting violently into the
sand, the seagulls gawking up in the sky and the faded noise of feet crushing
the sand beneath them.
It was soothing. Derek felt good.
“What do you think about dinner?” Derek whispers against Kate’s hair.
“We never actually get to the eating part that often.” Kate retorts, a smirk
dancing around her lips as she wiggles her fingers up and down Derek’s leg.
“With my family.” Derek clarifies, rolling his eyes and holding back a chuckle.
“Oh.” Kate answers.
“We barely do anything but have sex and, don’t get me wrong, I like it, but
sometimes I feel like we should just talk sometimes. I want you to know me,
know my world. And I want to know yours.” Derek says, rubbing his palms against
Kate’s arms.
Kate seems a bit nervous and uneasy for a while and Derek is almost sorry he
brought it up, thinking that maybe he was moving too fast when in reality he
knew little about relationships, maybe this was just the way things were, when
Kate suddenly relaxes beneath him, patting him on the leg.
“Fine, dinner it is, as long as we don’t have to dine with my side of the
family any time soon.” Kate answers, as a joke but Derek can taste her fear
though, the truth in her sarcastic tone.
“It’s going to be alright.” Derek reassures, rubbing his fingers soothingly
against Kate’s face. “It’s not like we’re going to get married or anything.”
Derek jokes.
Kate doesn’t laugh. She just shakes her head and turns around, a devilish smirk
in her lips. She pushes Derek down against the sand. “Enough chit chat.” Kate
says, leaning in as they kiss.
---
Kate gets out of the car and into the chilly night air, tucking her jacket
tighter against her body. She looks at the mansion and then at the forest
surrounding it. “The Hales live close by, don’t they?” Kate asks, curious.
Derek looks at her and she stares back at him, waiting. “We are the Hales.”
Derek answers back, sighing, suddenly questioning this dinner and his decision
to come out to Kate. Despite the year they’ve been dating, they barely know
each other.
“Oh.” Kate says – her eyes becoming wide.
Derek shakes his head. He and Kate have something, he knows that. He can feel
it. This is the girl he lost his virginity to. Derek trusts her. They just
don’t talk that much, that’s all.
Derek approaches Kate, offering her an arm.
Kate hesitates for a little bit, looking carefully at Derek’s arm. Then, she
just shakes her head and takes Derek’s arm into her own.
“Are you okay?” Derek asks, unable to smell her emotions.
Kate just nods.
---
The dinner goes by smoothly. At least at the surface.
Kate plays nervously but adeptly with a knife the entire dinner and his family…
Well, his family tries to be nice, but there’s this tension in the air that
intensifies every time his family notices how little they actually know each
other.
When the dinner is over and Kate excuses herself to go to the bathroom,
everyone turns to him. His father is the first to speak and boy, is he mad.
“First that boy in the woods and now this girl you barely met, seriously Derek,
are you trying to expose us!?” His father whispers, his voice filled with anger
and disbelief nonetheless.
“He was crying in the woods! He needed my help! And I never actually told him
anything, despite him being nothing but trustful towards me!” Derek whispers
angrily and sighs, his heart stinging. He missed the young boy. “Besides,
Stiles has nothing to do with this. I love Kate, we love each other. I want her
to know the truth about me.”
His father takes a hand to his face, trying to control himself. Derek’s mother
places a hand on his father’s arms and he can see the older man relax under the
touch, he can feel it.
“Derek, honey, I’m sure you two like each other very much” At which Laura rolls
her eyes “but are you sure you want to tell her? Your relationship seems so
recent.” His mother says.
“Yeah, besides, she’s an empty…” Laura starts but Derek growls at her.
“Derek.” His father warns.
“Oh, please, even you know it and you might try to deny it, but we all except
mom and Lily heard your heart skip a bit.” Laura revealed and Derek felt the
anger building up inside him. “You’re just fooling yourself.”
“Don’t tell me how Ifeel.” Derek barked.
“Both of you, shut up!” His mother snaps at both of them, turning to Derek with
caring, understanding eyes. “I know the lie seems crushing now and trust me,
I’ve been on the other side, I know how it hurts to have things hidden from
you, but you should give it time. Just wait until you’re certain she’s the
right one.”
“I’m going to tell her! I can’t lose her too, I won’t.” Derek says, shaking his
head and ignoring the confused looks from his entire family but Laura. “She
needs to know!”
“I need to know what?” Kate asks.
Derek looks at her. “What I really am.” He says, shifting.
---
Derek closes the door of Kate’s apartment behind them. Kate had wanted to leave
after that, no questions, no nothing. Derek still couldn’t smell her.
“Please, say something.” Derek pleads, starting to panic.
“I’m an Argent.” Kate says and Derek feels like he’s been slapped. He knows
that name all too well. The Argents are a cautionary tale for werewolves,
almost legendary. “I didn’t know who you were.” She shakes her head, covering
her mouth. “Maybe I should go. Leave town. It’ll be for the best. I don’t want
to hurt you.” She says with teary eyes and even though he can’t smell her,
Derek knows she’s telling the truth.
Derek approaches her and hugs Kate tightly against him. Kate’s body becomes
tense, frozen. “Stay. I - I love you.” He mutters and Kate relaxes against his
touch, hugging him back.
Maybe, just maybe, they could make this work. 
---
“She’s an Argent?” His father yells and one of his baby cousins upstairs starts
to cry. “You’ve put as all at risk!”
“She’s not like that!” Derek shouts back, his voice higher than his dad’s.
“How do you know that? How long can’t you smell her?” His dad yells even
louder.
“Since today! And you know very well that sometimes when a person is nervous or
confused it can shield their emotions!” Derek shouts, starting to climb the
flight of stairs.
“Don’t you turn your back at me!” His father shouts with his alpha’s voice and
Derek freezes dead on his tracks, unable to move. It’s the first time his dad
ever used it on one of them and, in that moment, Derek hates him for exerting
that kind of power over him.
His father sighs, defeated and Derek can feel his regret, but what’s done is
done. He turns around to face his dad.
“Good thing mom isn’t a wolf or…” He starts, but his mother raises an arm, the
veins in her throat bulging out, urging him to stop.
“Leave him be, Grace.” His father says, soothing his wife. “You can go to your
room, if you want.” He says to Derek and he just walks away.
From then on, Kate is forbidden from going to the Hale house. Derek doesn’t
spend much time there either and despite Laura’s constant attempts at
socializing, his family and him barely speak now.
He spends most of his time in Kate’s house, until he leaves for college.
---
“I’m sorry, Kate, is this a bad time?” Derek asks when he hears rustling, car
horns and Kate calling someone names, during one of his daily phone calls to
Kate.
She grunts. “Sort of. My dad wants to talk to me and whatever he says is law.”
Kate sighs. “Anyway, I’m heading there now.”
“Is everything okay?” Derek asks.
“Yeah. I’ll call you back when I can, Derek.” Kate says, turning off the phone.
One week later, the beacon hills police department calls his dorm room.
---
Derek knocked violently at the apartment’s door, crying desperately, his eyes
drowning in the tears he had been keeping inside for what seemed forever.
He heard Kate dragging a chair and stuffing some papers away.
“I’m going!” Kate shouted, almost running towards the door. “What?” She asked,
annoyed as she opened the door, before seeing it was Derek, before noticing the
tears in his eyes.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What happened?” Kate asked, her voice soft but
steady.
She seemed worried, concerned for Derek but he couldn’t smell her emotions. He
couldn’t for a while now. He needed to feel someone cared, though. He
desperately needed it. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.
Derek walked right past her, taking his hands to his head, brushing them
through his hair while trying to find his voice.
“What’s wrong, Derek?” Kate asked, closing the door behind her and approaching
him, placing a careful hand in his back – Derek noticing she was shaking.
“They’re all dead.” He muttered. The words breaking him up inside all over
again, just like they had broke him when the sheriff spoke them. “Burned.”
Kate grabbed his arm, yearning him to face her and hugged him while Derek fell
apart in her arms.
“My parents... Laura…” He said between sobs. “All of them.”
“I’m so sorry, Derek.” Kate said, her heart skipping a bit.
Derek buried his head in Kate’s hair, breathing in. That was when he finally
smelled her again. Her emotions were a mess and she lost her control. Derek
could feel her sadness, her guilt, but also the deception and the sick
happiness of getting away with a lie. Getting away with what she had done.
In less than a second, Derek was plastered against the wall, his skin burning
where she had touched him. Her smell was on him. It was everywhere and Derek
felt like throwing up. They were right. His family was right.
When he looked back at Kate, he instantly saw it in her eyes that she knew he
knew. She turned away and ran to the cabinet where Derek knew she kept her gun,
charged with wolfsbane.
Anger filled up inside him. His wolf could smell her fear and it was ready to
hunt. Kate had taken away everything and everyone he held dear, so Derek let
the wolf take charge, shifting.
He was faster than Kate, stronger.
In a second, Kate was under his tight grip, unable to move. His claws rubbing
softly against the skin of her neck, the skin that he loved, the skin that
sicken him.
She refused to cry, standing strong, beside the intense fear Derek could smell
in her. That only made the wolf more eager, only made him angrier.
“I didn’t want to.” She said, the plead clear in her voice. Please, don’t kill
me.“My father found out about you, about us. He was going to kill me!” All of
that was true, Derek could feel it, the despair and betrayal but there was
something else.
He inhaled deeply, the wolf tightening his grip around Kate’s neck. “There were
innocent people in that house, people that never hurt anyone! There were
children that were nothing but human!” Derek shouted against her ear – his
voice filled with so much hate and disgust he almost didn’t recognize himself.
“He didn’t care.” She throttled. But there was more. Something else left
unsaid.
“Then say you’re sorry.” Derek threatened. Challenged. Begged.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered between a squeal. Her heartbeat, racing until then,
skipped another beat. Derek only smelled her fear. His eyes widened, growling.
Kate didn’t cared that she had killed innocents, not really.
To her, they were just collateral damage to kill a greater evil, nothing more.
The wolf laughed at her pathetic attempt of a lie, breaking Kate’s neck with a
fast twist of his hand and Derek felt numb, empty. He wanted to die.
She hissed before the lifeless body of the girl Derek once loved, of the girl
he still loved – the girl that killed everyone he loved – fell with a thud on
the floor.
Derek stood there until the anger left his body. Until he turned back into a
human and his hands started to tremble. Until the magnitude of what he had just
done hit him. He had killed someone – a human being. He was nothing but a
monster his family had never been. A monster like Kate was.
When his head cleared off, he remembered something Kate told him once, when
they discussed what it meant for a werewolf and a hunter to be in a
relationship together, as a joke, in what seemed like ages ago. An Argent never
breaks the code. At least not with his bare hands.
Derek remembered the papers he heard Kate store away before rushing to open the
door. In that moment, the anger came back. She hadn’t murdered his entire
family alone. She had help, someone who did the dirty work for her.
Derek started to look for the papers. He looked for a while, dumping entire
cabinets on the apartment’s floor, tearing up furniture.
Eventually, he found an envelope with her father’s address. He opened it.
Inside it there were photos, e-mail logs, police records. He looked at the
records. Arson. Just like the police suspected. He also found a school record
of one chemistry teacher.
He took the records, thinking how easy it had been, until he remembered
something else Kate said. Argents never leave loose ends.
Oh, god, he had been so blind. She was nothing but a crazy psychopathic bitch.
And he loved her. And it disgusted him.
Now he only needed to do one more thing before he left – leave a message for
the Argents.
---
Derek was running in all fours, following the arsonists scent.
They were two drunken hoboes who liked to wander around in the woods. Derek had
spotted them a couple of times along the years. If he had known then, he
would’ve ended their pathetic and miserable lives ages ago, just like they
deserved.
A shout cut through the silent night’s air – the voice awfully familiar.
Derek stopped mid run and listened carefully, hopeful and fearful.
“Derek!” Stiles shouted again and his voice made Derek’s wolf calm down just
enough for him to shift back. Oh god, how he missed the young boy’s voice and
his sweet cinnamon scent. He looked at his hand, staring at the heavy envelope
gripped tightly between his fingers.
Stiles shouted Derek’s name again – his voice urgent and pleading.
Derek went to meet him, without thinking about it twice.
Finding Stiles was easy – he was always so loud.
Derek growled once he found the young boy, so his presence would be noted.
Stiles turned around, sighing in relief at the sight of Derek until he looked
better at the older man.
“Don’t do it.” Stiles said in a low soft voice, almost a whimper.
Derek said nothing in return.
Stiles approached him clumsily, taking the envelope off his hands, dropping it
and cupping Derek’s hands into his. “Oh, god, Derek, you’re shaking.” He noted.
Derek looked away. He couldn’t face those wide brown eyes, filled with concern,
sorrow and compassion, of which Derek deserved none.
He felt a hand caress his face, soft and caring, forcing him to look back at
Stiles. Derek let it.
“Don’t do it, Derek.” He said, eyes looking right into Derek’s. If only Stiles
knew, he would be nothing but disgusted, terrified, because Derek was a
monster. “I know everything feels hopeless now. But it will get better.”
“So all of this, all this pain, it will simply go away, is that what you’re
saying!?” Derek almost shouted, his voice louder and harder than he intended it
to be. His wolf was right beneath the surface, wanting to claw his way back
out, finish what he had started and take revenge on those who had taken him
everything.
“No. The pain will stay with you, forever. It’ll never go away. But you’ll
learn to deal with it, to live with that pain.” Stiles said with watering eyes.
“Don’t do something you’ll regret later, Derek.” Stiles whispered.
Fuck.He was crying. His pain was too much. Stiles was too much.
“What if I’m not who you think I am.” Derek whispered, wanting to look away,
but Stiles’ hand was still in place. It was so funny how strong someone could
be, even a young boy like Stiles, just because you let them.
One of Stiles’ hands went from cupping Derek’s hands to linger around his chest
– his heart – until Stiles pressed it softly against his heartbeat.
“I know you, Derek.” Stiles said in a low weak voice. Derek snorted. “You are
the grumpy teenager that found a young boy crying in the woods and carried him
to safety. That met him every day for two months, every week for a year and
half. Who was never nothing but kind to that annoying little boy. That is who
you are.” Stiles said, his tone steady and certain, despite the tears.
Derek, crying and tired, rested his forehead against Stiles’. That was when he
felt it – the teen’s arousal. But there was something more beneath it. A
feeling he had smelled every week for a year and a half, a feeling that was
pure, innocent and kind. Derek felt it too, the unconditional love. He knew
that now – it was love. It was so easy to identify it once coupled with the
other.
The boy in the woods saved him.
He was also the reason why Derek had to leave.
Chapter End Notes
     Yeah, I'm not too happy with this, but I'll never be so here it is.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Chapter by sarcasmandirony
Chapter Summary
     Derek deals with the loss of his family and, when he finally gets
     settled into a somewhat confortable life, he's hunted by ghosts of
     his past (that manifest themselves in more than one way).
Chapter Notes
     The beginning of this chapter is a little bit depressive, but it gets
     better!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Derek wakes up coughing – his breathing shallow. He immediately smells the
toxic suffocating scent of smoke and wolfsbane, hears the deafening sound of
raging flames.
Derek tries to get up, to warn his family, save them before it is too late, but
falls hard on the floor instead – no strength left in his body.
He hears coughing coming from the bed and notices his mom had been sleeping
beside him, which didn’t happen in years. That anomaly is almost immediately
thrown to the back of Derek’s mind, though, when she continues coughing,
choking on the smoke, unable to breathe.
Derek closes his eyes, incapable of moving – worthless. He is left there with
no other choice but to be drowned by his senses, quickly overwhelmed by it all.
The infernal heat is too much, the scarring muffled screams of his dying
family, barely audible through the furious roar of the unforgivable flames, are
too much – more than anyone should ever go through.
When the sickening smell of burning skin gets to him, Derek throws up – his
eyes filling up with burning tears.
---
Derek wakes up, throwing up by the warehouse floor where he’d just been
sleeping in.
The unbearable scent of smoke, wolfsbane and burned skin is still in the air,
in Derek, still leaves him choking, fighting for a breathe, even if now it’s
nothing more but an echo of his alpha’s – his father’s– last memory.
Derek tries to get away from the smell, from the vomit lying on the floor, but
he can’t get way, he can’t get far enough, the smell is everyone, rooted in his
mind and he hits one of the warehouse walls – trapped.
It’s all too much and Derek carves his nails – his claws – into his arms. He
growls from the acute pain but, instead of stopping, he deepens the claws into
his flesh, the physical pain freeing him from the unbearable emotional pain.
Tears roll down Derek’s face as the pain drowns all of his other senses, as the
ashes leave him, at least for now.
But for now is good enough for Derek.
---
The sky is gray, the ocean’s raging.
Derek feels tired, so, so tired. He can’t deal with the guilt, the pain, the
loss and the everpresent horrifying nightmares of his family’s deathanymore.
“I’m sorry.” Derek whispers to the wind, leaping into the stormful seas,
welcoming the cold touch of the darkened waters.
---
Derek feels a pressure in his chest, pulling him out of the darkness.
He coughs, throwing up the salt water that fills his lungs, that burns his
throat.
“Mommy, is he okay?” A childlike voice filled with worry asks in a whisper.
“Yeah honey, he’s gonna be alright now.” A woman says through a relieved sigh.
Derek turns to the side, coughing out more water, his stare finding a little
boy with teary eyes, wearing a red hood. Derek closes his eyes, feeling the
tears coming, coughing out even more water.
---
Derek tries to commit suicide two more times. He jumps in front of a train and
out of the top floor of a high building. Every time his werewolf healing powers
bring him back and every single time a red-hooded young boy is there, watching
him with tearful brown eyes.
---
Derek eventually gives up. The pain eventually fades. It doesn’t go away, not
completely, not ever. It’s still there, always by his side, just like Stiles
had said, a trustful companion, much like his wolf.
---
Derek follows a nervous man into an alley, lurking after him in the shadows. By
now he had seen it all. Drug traffic, gun traffic, mugs, rapes and even
murders. Derek helped the victims whenever he could, but that wasn’t his main
goal. He was not a hero, he wasn’t looking for redemption – that was something
completely out of his reach.
He was after something else.
Looking closely at the guy, Derek noticed this one looked mostly healthy, apart
from the shaky hands. Maybe Derek finally got lucky.
After a while, the nervous man found a leather-jacketed guy waiting by a
dumpster.
“Did you bring it?” The man with shaky hands asked.
“Did you bring the cash?” The dealer asked with a smug grin, his figure
irradiating confidence.
The impatient man sank his hand deeply into his pockets, digging out a roll of
bills and dropping the cash in the dealer’s hand.
“Nice. Here you go.” The dealer said, handing out an envelope that the nervous
man gripped tightly, eagerly looking inside.
“Is everything here?” He asked.
“Yup. I.D., bank account number, passport – the complete package, and all under
the alias you previously chose. Everything you need to start a brand new life.”
The shaky guy nodded, walking away as the dealer finished counting the bills.
“It’s always a pleasure doing business with you, sunshine.” He said with a
smile, turning away to face Derek.
“Hum, hi buddy.” The dealer greeted. “This was a private meeting.”
Derek just looked at him with a blank expression.
“Okay… bye then.” He said, trying to dodge Derek.
Derek simply arched up an eyebrow and moved aside, barring the dealer’s path.
“I need a favor.” He says.
The dealer laughs. “I don’t do favors, buddy. Besides, this is not how this
works. There’s a chain of command. You can’t just come in here and look at the
catalog. So, just back off and stop wasting my time.”
Derek says nothing. The dealer rolls his eyes and turns around, facing Derek
yet again. He looks back, to where Derek was, half confused, half shocked,
scrapping his head. “What the…?” He mutters to himself, looking at Derek with a
defiant look.
They dance for a while, the dealer trying to dodge Derek and Derek barring his
every move. Eventually, the dealer gets fed up, lifting his jacket and taking
out a gun. “Okay, buddy, this has been fun and all, but I have to go now.” He
threatens, wiggling the gun around at Derek’s face.
Derek feels his annoyance, frustration, but also the fear cradling beneath his
skin. In that moment, he knew the guy probably never had shot a gun before.
Derek smirked and the dealer’s eyes widened, his fear deepened. Then, with one
fluid movement, Derek yanked the gun out of the dealer’s grip, pinning him
tightly against a wall. “You’re going to arrange me an envelope just like the
one you gave that guy.” Derek said, calmly. “No need to look at a catalog.” He
added with a grin.
“Or what?” The dealer demanded.
Derek tilted his head, his smile widening, showing off his teeth.
He looks at the dealer and shifts – a shout vibrating through the dark, empty
alley.
---
The elevator door opens and Derek steps outside, seeing the real estate lady
and walking towards her.
“Good day, Mr. Booth, what do you think of the apartment?” She asked as they
shook hands.
“It’s nice. Very recent and, hum, modern… looking.” Derek said and that was
enough to make the lady start to talk about the specifics of the building and,
as they stepped into the apartment, of the apartment itself.
Derek tuned her out, his attention caught by the high windows of the apartment
that showcased a marvelous view of the city below them, completely breath
taking. He looked up, to the second story that floated over them and ran
towards the stairs, during which the lady stopped talking.
In the second story, he stepped into the handrails and opened his arms, taking
in a deep breath – it felt like it was flying, like he was with them.
The woman released a high pitch squeal. “Mr. Williams, please be careful!”
There was nothing to be worried about, since he had perfect balance, but he
tipped forward just to hear the woman release another squeal. Then, he looked
down at the lady with wide eyes, covering her mouth with one hand.
Derek smirked. “I’ll take it.” 
---
Derek took excursions through the city, which he forced upon himself for the
sole reason that Laura would’ve killed him if she knew he had moved to a major
metropolis and spent all his days brooding in his room, feeling sorry for
himself.
Moving to a big city had always been one of Laura’s dreams and she had actually
spent one entire month in New York but, being part of a pack meant that you
never felt entirely confortable unless you were in close proximity with the
rest of its members. When Derek had moved away to college, even if he didn’t
speak to them at the time, he felt like some part of him was missing.
So he visited all the places Laura would’ve loved. Museums, art galleries, he
went to see plays and listen to musicals. He sat in a park watching street
performers and looked for hidden bookshops, coffees and restaurants. Sometimes
he could almost feel Laura there and that always made a tear crawl up in the
corner of his eyes.
During one of his excursions, he found a little and secluded second hand
bookshop with a rustic feel that had a sign painted in earthy tones, to mimic
old paper, which read simply ‘hiring’.
Derek came in, the bell announcing his entrance. The smell inside the bookstore
was very distinct, the musky scent of dilapidated books, sort of like a forest
as it ages. As Derek walked through the shelves towards the counter, he smelled
lipstick, the bitter taste of coffee, juice and even cum.
When she was alive, Derek had never set foot in the second hand bookstore Laura
had opened in Beacon Hills. The first and only time he tried, when Laura
convinced Derek and Mark to help her carry shelves, couches, tables and a
counter inside, it was like someone had hit him with the scent of a thousand
people’s private afternoon.
Seeing the fat, greasy, hairy and bald man standing behind the counter, the
stench of the sweat almost making Derek run the other way, he wondered what had
been of Laura’s bookstore.
The man looked up from the book he was reading, looking Derek from top to
bottom. “Every day from seven in the morning to five in the afternoon with a
pause for lunch and the payment sucks.” He said with a gruff voice.
“I take it.”
---
Derek is leaning against the counter when the bell rings for the first time in
five days and a floral smell waves into the store, the type that his mother
liked to use and made his father wrinkle his nose every time she sprayed a
little too much of it, which was always an indication that she was mad about
something and everyone sneezed for the entire week, the smell lingering around
the house, taking root in the fabrics.
A sizzling noise also filled the room and Derek grimaced as a young woman
walked into view, carrying a hand card filled with books.
She looked at Derek and her eyes widened, a shy smile appearing in her lips as
she tried to look away. “What happened to Hugo?” She asked.
“Who?”
“The man who worked here before” she said as she approached the counter,
looking down and waving with her hands “with the… lack of hair.”
“He quitted, I was hired.” Derek answered lifting an eyebrow at the pile of
books.
The woman looked up at him and then to the handcart, following Derek’s gaze.
“Oh, yeah, that. I love reading but I usually never touch the same book twice
so I come here once a week to drop them off.”
“You mean that is just from this week?” Derek asked in disbelief.
“Hum, yeah. I’m a bookworm.” She said, shrugging.
“What am I supposed to do with them?”
“Hugo used to write the name and the edition, send them to the owner and she’d
e-mail him the price.”
“So, you’ll be back tomorrow?”
“Actually, Mrs. Robinson clashes with technology, so probably just next week,
but it’s no problem.” She said, picking the books one by one and dropping them
by the counter. “My number is in the phonebook under Emily, so you can call me
whenever Mrs. R sends you the price tags.”
“Fine.” Derek grunted. “At least I’ll have something to do for a couple of
hours.”
“You dusted the shelves and washed the floor.” Emily pointed out. “In the two
years I’ve been coming here, I’ve never seen the place so clean.”
“Yeah, it was time and work well spent. As you can see, the place is crowded.”
Derek said dryly.
Emily looked around, like she hadn’t noticed how deserted the store was. Then
she looked at Derek and took her cellphone out of her pockets, taking a picture
of him. “Well, I bet you’ll have costumers by tomorrow.” She said. “And I’m
glad that Hugo quitted.” Emily added with a wave.
Derek lifted his eyebrows at that.
The next day, the small and rustic bookstore was drowned by college girls
smiling and fawning themselves in front of him.   
---
The bell of the store rang, but Derek didn’t pay it much attention. Nowadays
the noise was almost a constant in the bookstore, with people always coming in
and going out. Though they didn’t really buy much, they just stood there,
foiling pages of books and pretending not to stare at him.
It was rather annoying.
Emily appeared from behind a row of shelves, looking at the new clientele and,
when her eyes lay on Derek, she smiled widely.
“I see the place is a bit more active.” She tells him, approaching the counter.
“Yeah, next time try bringing in paying costumers instead of one that drool all
over my floor. What did you do, actually?”
“I just posted a couple of fliers all around college with your picture and the
store’s address.” She shrugs. “Besides, it seems people find your rigid mouth
and furious stares.” Emily states, tilting her head towards a couple of girls
who turned their attention back to the books they were holding, giggling, as
soon as Derek looked their direction.
“It’s supposed to have the opposite reaction.” Derek said, shaking his head and
looking for the piece of paper where he’d noted the book prices.
“That’s why it’s so adorable.”
“Well, next time you think about posting my photo around, don’t.”
“Noted.”
Derek finds the sheet and shows it to Emily.
“… Hum, this is really weird because I don’t know how you’re called.”
Derek sighs. “Shawn.” He lies.
“Well, Shawn, this place is the only one I know in town that will actually give
me money for my old books, so just give me the money.”
Derek nodded, fetching the bills from the register and handing them to Emily.
“Thanks.” She said. “And now that you have more people coming in, you should
think about investing in a camera by the entrance or people can just come in
and take whatever books they want.”
Derek smiled, and it wasn’t even a smirk, because seriously, who ever thought
having a shelve blocking the view to the door lived in some kind of utopic
world where ‘stealing’ didn’t exist.
Emily’s eyes sparkled, looking down at his lips.
“I’ll take your concerns to Mrs. Robinson.” Derek said.
Emily nodded, turning to leave but looking back almost instantly. “Do you want
to go out some time?” She asked.
Derek was caught off guard by the question. He didn’t really go out with anyone
since… well, since Kate. And despite knowing that this is probably a bad idea,
he finds himself nodding. “I get out at five.” He said.
Emily smiled widely and left.
Derek let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. When he looks to the
counter, he notices there are claw marks when his fingers are pressed against
the hardwood surface. Looking around the store, he’s relieved to find that
everyone was so distracted by his face to notice anything else, letting out a
deep sigh.
---
The date goes rather well.
They end up eating a couple of burgers by a stairway in the middle of the
street.
Emily is fun, intelligent and educated. She aspires to be a college history
teacher and is a voluntary in a soup kitchen. She has awful taste in music and
she used to make plays in her backyard as a child, dressing her younger brother
in small period gowns, something Derek can relate since Laura used to do the
same, without the play parts, of course. And Mark would laugh, the bastard.
Derek tries to let Emily know how much about him as he can, despite the
discomfort and the ever present voice in his head telling him don’t trust her.
But Derek his fears are unfounded, since he scrutinizes every word, every beat
of heart, any physiological response. He tells her that he has no idea what he
wants to do in the future. Maybe something tied with animals.
As Derek tries to get ways to be as truthful as possible, he realizes that
Emily will never able to know who he is, what he is and what happened simply
because Derek can’t say it and probably will never be able to again.
The time goes by rather quickly and as soon as Derek notices it, he is saying
giving a kiss on Emily’s cheek at the door of her apartment building.
“Do you want to meet again sometime?” Emily asks him.
Derek was about to say yes when, on the end of the street, his eyes see a boy
in a red hoodie staring at him with curious eyes and the corners of his mouth
turned downwards, in slight disappointment.
“I’m sorry.” Derek says simply, his voice weak and feeling the tears welling to
his eyes.
Emily nods, looking a bit confused, getting into the building.
They only see each other in the bookstore from then on.
---
Derek is storing books into shelves when a teenage girl approaches him with a
flirty smile. “Where can I find Twilight? I can’t find it in the vampire
section.” She said, blatantly blinking her eyes.
“Try the young adult section.” Derek answered, going back to book shelving.
The girl stood there for a little while until she finally went away, looking
somewhat disappointed.
When she found the book, Derek walked to the register and there were no smiles
or chit chat this time.
Then she left the bookstore and a few seconds later the bell rang as the door
opened.
A man approached Derek, looking around the store, his stare falling into a
young couple flipping pages and giggling in the erotic section – a smirk
drawing itself in the man’s lips.
“Hello, Derek.” The stranger said and Derek, suddenly hyper vigilant, aware of
the danger, recognized the man from a picture in Kate’s house – her brother. He
was ready to charge. “Could you direct me to the werewolf section?” He asked.
When Chris Argent left, Derek immediately called his boss to quit his job,
called his landlord to say he was leaving the building, quickly closing the
shop, grateful that he always had his leather jacket with him, since the
hunters were probably already in his house. He dumped his phone by a garbage
can, ready to skip town, to start everything all over again.
Chapter End Notes
     I know, I know, there's no actual Stiles in this chapter. The next
     chapter will be longer and Stiles will be heavily featured, I
     promise! *wink*
***** Chapter 4 *****
Chapter by sarcasmandirony
Chapter Summary
     Derek's life has evolved into some sort of a routine. He settles into
     a new town, gets a new job and the same old hunters appear right when
     Derek starts to think that this time he's lost them for good. Then,
     certain day, in a town like any other, Derek is coming home from work
     when he finds out he has a new neighboor. Guess who?
Chapter Notes
     So, this chapter is huge and it has the complete trifecta: fluff,
     smut and angst with a bonus of hurt/comfort. Enjoy!
     P.S. This contains what could be viewed as slight domestic violence.
     Read the notes to know details.
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The sun sets as Derek walks back to his apartment after a day of working at the
local coffee shop. It has been eight years since his whole world crumbled. He
has changed town, name and life thirteen times in those eight long years.
Every time he feels like he’s finally free, at least from the Argents, they
find him again.
Approaching the apartment, Derek notices a man, who looks more like a teenager,
embracing one of the boxes in is packed up jeep. He’s kind of scrawny and oddly
familiar.
He picks up the rather large box. “Oh sweet merciful fuck!” He shouts to the
heavens, his legs trembling precariously, his arms giving out and Derek
couldn’t decide either to grunt from exasperation or laugh from amusement.
Which was weird, the mere thought of laughing was rather unusual to him
nowadays.
Derek does neither, and in less than a second, he’s holding the box, relieving
the younger man’s of its weight and oh fuck – it’s Stiles.
Stiles sighs from relief, brushing a hand through his buzz cut hair. “Thanks
man.” He says, patting Derek on the shoulder before looking at him, before
realizing who he is. Stiles’ mouth drops in mild shock, nonchalant and
transparent as ever.
They stay there, quiet and still until Stiles finally manages to close his
mouth, hiding his hands awkwardly in his pockets, changing his weight from one
foot to the other, trying to look anywhere but Derek, and failing
spectacularly.
Derek tightens his grip around the box, deciding that he hated this, he hated
them acting like strangers, like Stiles wasn’t the person who knew him better
than anyone and even him didn’t know about the darkness that Derek carried,
about the dreams he sweeps under the bed, when the first ray of sunshine waves
through the window.
“Where to?” He finally asks, breaking the silence and lifting the box up to
meet Stiles' gaze.
“Oh, yeah, right.” Stiles babbled, like he had forgotten about the boxes
altogether. “Third floor.” He makes an apologetic face. “Sorry. You can put it
down if you want. This stupid building has no elevator. Can you believe it? We
are in the freaking 21st century and whoever built this freaking apartment
didn’t thought of add an elevator on an eight story building. What’s next?
There’s no electricity or running water?...”
“The gas doesn’t work very well.” Derek admits as Stiles picks up a smaller
box, following Derek to the apartment.
“See, I mean, it’s just ridiculous.” He shakes his head.
After the initial shock and nervousness were gone, Stiles was clearly back to
his normal self. He just didn’t shut up, able to talk for hours about any given
subject, like in every afternoon they’d met in the woods, where Derek listened
attentively to Stiles’ every word, not wanting to miss a single word from the
boy’s chatter. God, how he missed his voice, now slightly lower, due to
puberty.
It was weird comparing that Stiles to the young man in front of him, all grown
up. Full red lips, lean body, defined arms…
“Don’t worry.” Derek babbled, taking his mind away from Stiles and his stupid
perfect lips and stupid body and his annoying (but not really) constant
babbling. “I’m still as strong as ever, I can carry this to the third floor.”
“Show off.” He hears Stiles mutter under his breath and Derek can’t repress a
smile.
Show off or not, in the time it took Stiles to carry two boxes, up the stairs
and into the third floor, Derek carried all the others, locking the jeep and
grabbing the keys.
He climbed back up the stairs and saw Stiles laying his box on the ground – the
skin at the back of his neck shiny with sweat. It wasn’t attractive, at all.
Stiles turned to him and Derek handed him his keys.
“Thanks” Stiles smiled and Derek heard both of their heartbeats speed up when
their fingers brushed off against each other.
So, Stiles still wasn’t indifferent to Derek either. Derek could smell both
their arousal in the air. Now Derek felt it too.
Stiles blushed and quickly looked away, at the boxes lying on the ground. “How
did you know where my door? I remember that you were the one leading, and you
purposely placed them by the left side. Been hiding behind some trees, have
we?” Stiles joked, hands dropping to his waist and Derek rolled his eyes,
trying to look away from the pale skin exposed by the movement and even there
Stiles as a mole or two. Derek never thought about it before but now he wonders
to how far they go.
“I live next door.” Derek pointed out.
“Oh, right. That makes total sense. I guess. Actually, scratch that. No it
doesn’t! What are the chances of meeting a neighbor in the middle of the
street? What are the chances of my next door neighbor being the guy that found
me crying in the woods ten years ago? Seriously Derek, none of this makes
sense.” Stiles said.
Derek shrugged. “Nothing in my life has ever made sense.”
Stiles is taken aback by his answer, letting out a heavy sigh and turning
around, opening the door to his apartment and picking up a small box up from
the floor.
“I’ll help you with that.”
They carry all the boxes inside and when they’re done, Stiles smirks.
“I always knew you had super powers.” Stiles joked. “You just didn’t told me
because it’s probably one of those things that if you told me, you’d have to
kill me, am I right? Which is fine, I totally get it. If you killed me, you’d
probably miss my witty commentaries and my charming company. Do you have heat
vision too? Because the temperature in here just is definitely hotter than
usual”
“I don’t have super powers.” Derek said between grinded teeth, growling. He
turned away to leave and felt a hand behind him he knew would come. Stiles was
still as loud when he was silent as when he was talking.
“Wait.” He says. “I’m sorry, Derek. I really am. No more death jokes. I’m
sorry.” Stiles looked at Derek’s scowl with regretful eyes. He cleared his
throat. “As you’ve clearly noticed, my mind to mouth filter is still
nonexistent. Actually, I think it has become worse with age. You’d have to be
blind not to notice, really. Or deaf, rather. That’s not the point. The point
is that my nonexistent filter is painfully noticeable.” Stiles said, scratching
his head.
Derek feels his muscles relax. “It’s okay, Stiles. There’s no problem. I just
have to work tonight, so I better sleep while I can.” He clarifies.
“A night worker, hum?” Stiles babbled, shutting his mouth almost immediately.
Derek laughed and Stiles eyes lighten up.
“Bar. Friday to Saturday.” He informed, before Stiles had to say anything else,
turning to leave. “Take your mind out of the gutter.”
“Then, dinner. Sunday. There’s this new show about fairytales. It’s not as
cheesy as it might sound. I guess. I’ve only seen the trailer. The premiere is
Sunday. And my mind is always in the gutter.” Stiles blurted out in a hurry.
Derek nodded and Stiles clapped his hands. “So, it’s a date. Well, not really!
Definitely not a date. No, no, no. No date. Just a meeting between old
friends.”
Derek smiled like he hadn’t in years. “See you Sunday, Stiles.” He said with a
wave, closing the door to the hyperactive teenager’s apartment.
---
Derek was nervous. He knew it was ridiculous. Derek and Stiles had spent
countless days together, talking effortlessly for hours in each other’s
company. Everything used to be so simple with Stiles. However, after taking one
shower, brushing his teeth, putting on his best fitted jeans, a tight tank top
that left little to the imagination and throwing a leather jacket on top to put
it all together, he still felt uncharacteristically self-conscious.  
While panicking in front of the bathroom’s mirror, Derek kind of regretted not
owning any cologne or air gel. He thought about shaving. But Kate loved when
Derek was clean-shaved. She also loved whenever Derek used cologne or air gel,
so Derek avoided all of it at all costs. Even thinking about it left him sick
and filled with anger.
… And now he had a broken sink and water was sprinting out all over the
bathroom.
Derek growled, hurrying out of the bathroom and calling his landlord – who
yelled through the cell phone and called Derek countless names until Derek
started to growl. Then the guy shut up and told him not to worry, that the sink
would be fixed in no time, with no extra charges.
Then, he looked at the time – 7:13 pm – which was basically useless because
they didn’t actually arrange any set time to meet up.
Derek knew, however, that Stiles was already home.
“Fuck it.” Derek muttered, leaving his apartment and walking across the hall
until Stiles’ apartment, knocking.
Stiles ran towards the door, stumbling (fuck!)and falling hard on the floor.
Derek grimaced at the loud thud, letting out a laugh before it was obvious
Stiles was okay, jumping up almost instantly and opening the door.
When the door opened, Derek could smell Stiles’ and lust as clearly as he could
see his warm, inviting smile.
There was no reason for Derek to feel self-conscious, Stiles liked him exactly
how he was. But Derek quickly remembered that Stiles liked a lie.
Stiles mouth dropped when he saw Derek. “Oh my god.” He gagged. “You look…
great. You look great, Derek.” He said, stopping to stare at every inch of
Derek’s body, like he was some model in a fashion catalog. Derek smirked.
“I mean, hi Derek.”
“Miguel.” Derek clarified.
“What?” Stiles asked, lost in appreciating Derek’s body once again.
“My name.”
Stiles looked up at Derek with confusion but suddenly his expression
brightened. “Oh, right. Okay.” He nodded. “Hi, Miguel. You know how awful I am
with names. Anyway, come in.”
Derek smiled, stepping in and taking a closer look at Stiles. Although the
younger man was dressed rather casually in some sweatpants and a comical muffin
t-shirt that read stud, Derek found Stiles’ exposed arms, the moles on his face
and his gentle cinnamon scent wildly attractive, like anything he had seen
before.
“I hope I’m not too early or too late.”
“No, not at all! You are right on time, actually.” Stiles said, pointing then
to a counter over-flowing with bags from a chinese take-out restaurant Derek
walked by in his way from work, recognizing the smell of mustard and ginger. “I
bought chinese, hope you don’t mind. Since I didn’t know your tastes, I bought
a little of everything. Which was really expensive! This shit is expensive,
it’s insane! If my father founds out, he’s going to kill me! Not that I’m
complaining or asking you for money. Oh god, no, I invited you. You’re a guest
in my house. I would hate if someone invited me to dine at their place and then
asked me for money, like, total asshole move. In fact, you are forbidden of
giving me as much as one cent!”
Derek tried to contain a laugh. “Are you sure? Because that isa lot of food.”
“Yeah! Unless, you know, my body is found in a ditch somewhere, dried out and
chopped into tiny pieces, devoured by hungry cats. In that case, I’ll come back
to haunt your sour sorry ass forever.” Stiles promised.
Derek’s expression hardened and Stiles dropped his mouth. “Sorry. Death jokes.”
Stiles makes a gagging motion. “Just fall out of my mouth, like everything
else, really. It’s a gift or more like a curse.”
Stiles turned around, taking the food boxes out of bags, opening them and
setting them on the table.
“Would you care to fetch me some glasses?” Stiles asked.
“What about cutlery?” Derek asked, smirking at Stiles’ unintentional joke.
 “I don’t need them.” Stiles said with a smug smile, tilting his head towards
the chinese sticks.
“Then neither do I.” Derek answered and Stiles’ smile only became wider. “Would
you care to tell me where the glasses are?”
“Nope.” Stiles said shaking his head.
Derek arched an eyebrow and snorted, taking on the challenge. Stiles looked at
him, a stupid smile (but not really) in his face as he shouted him directions
(Warm! Cold! Freezing! God, do you even have the slightest notion of object
distribution in a kitchen?!)
After fifteen minutes of growling on Derek’s part and shouting and laughing of
Stiles’, the table was overflowing with food boxes and they were sitting down,
glasses filled with iced tea.
Derek ended up having to use cutlery because the chinese sticks were overly
sensitive to his frustrated touch. Stiles laughed when the sticks broke and
laughed even harder when Derek looked at him angrily.
When he gets to actually take food to his mouth and eat it, it turns out
chinese food was actually pretty good. Not that he gave it a better compliment
than It doesn’t suck. To which Stiles snorted, unimpressed.
“So, Stiles, what do you do nowadays when you’re not bossing people around in
your kitchen?” Derek asked.
“Well, right now I’m in college.” Stiles started. “And don’t laugh at me!” He
warned. “But I dream of being a kindergarten teacher. They have an endless
supply of unlimited energy, much like myself and don’t threat people like
complete assholes.” Stiles said, showing his tongue off in a childish way and…
he probably shouldn’t have find it or his tongue as hot as he did.
“So, you like kids?” Derek asked, distracting his head from the fact that he
wanted to lick Stiles’ tongue, apparently. How canis lupus.
“Yup. I actually even babysat for a couple of years. I know it’s not quite the
same, like there’s like a ton of more kids and you have to actually teach them
stuff, and I don’t think learning how to make fart noises or spit very far are
skills parents wants their skills to learn. Actually, probably, they’re not,
but every year just made my love for kids grow stronger. And I don’t mean that
in a creepy way. Anyway, carrying on. That’s an age where they are eager to
learn, to know the world and are still rather innocent and you can still make
an impact, you know? And I want that.” Stiles explained.
“Yeah, I just feel sorry for the poor kids that end up in your class.” Derek
joked and a napkin hit him in the face.
“What about you, Derek?” Stiles asked. “Did you ever got to finish your degree?
You know, after...”
Derek shakes his head. “No. I came to the conclusion that being a lawyer isn’t
my cup of tea. I would end up wanting to rip the throats out of all the
criminals. And I think that isn’t the sort of behavior a judge would approve.”
“Eh, no loss there, I always saw you more as an outdoors guy, living in some
forest surrounded by animals, anyway.”
“Yeah. I’ve actually had a few different jobs related with animals like dog
walking, a wolf refuge, in a pound and as a veterinary assistant. And I think
that, since running around the woods with animals isn’t actually a job, one of
those is probably something I would want to do permanently once things settle
down.” Derek said, surprise with so at ease he felt.
Stiles nodded, smiling.
“Maybe you could even work in the Beacon Hills Wildlife reserve, like Mark,
when things settle down.”
Derek felt tears cropping to his eyes, remembering his brother. “Maybe.”
They eventually finished eating and threw the empty boxes in the garbage.
Stiles washed the dishes while Derek dried them off with a cloth, which they
did pretty fast, they hadn’t dirtied much and were in front of the television
right at eight o’clock.
For a show about fairytales, it was strangely good and the characters were all
sort of complex and badass. Stiles, for what Derek could gather from his
shouting at the TV (She’s the baby, I’m telling you!; The Queen is a freaking
BAMF!; Don’t tell the creepy man her name! God, don’t they teach you anything
in Fairytale School? I’m going to call you Dumb White from now on!; Told you
she was the baby; They actually killed prince fucking charming?! This show has
balls!; Oh, no, there he is, my mistake. Balls taken away from you then!)he
liked it as well.
Then, when the episode was over, Stiles turned to Derek. “That was AWESOME!” He
shouted, dissipating any doubts Derek had whatsoever.
“It wasn’t bad.” Derek answered, and was smacked with a pillow in a face.
“Don’t be like that, sourpants. You were totally on the edge of your seat the
whole freaking hour. I might’ve been screaming externally, which is my normal
setting, but I sensed lots of internal screaming and awe coming from you.”
Stiles joked.
“If you say so.”
Stiles punched Derek, softly, in the arm and his hand lingered there, feeling
Derek’s strong muscles. Their eyes met and Derek could hear Stiles’ heart
poundingin his chest, like it was standing right against Derek’s ears. The
lust, combined with the feelings that came from countless afternoon hours
effortlessly spent together and one fateful night where Stiles had brought him
back flooded the space between them.
Though, Derek could also feel some doubt coming from Stiles.
Derek didn’t want Stiles to have doubts, not about this, not anymore.
Unfortunately, the door of the apartment opened and both of them jumped to
opposite sides of the couch.
A guy carrying a couple of handbags entered. “Hi, Stiles.” He said, looking
from his friend to Derek’s sudden angry expression and looking away, fearful.
“I can’t believe you are watching that Revenge show.” He noted, after
forcefully throwing the words out, his breathing heavy.
Stiles glanced at the TV, like he had forgotten it was even on. “We weren’t
watching. I mean… Well, apparently we were. Never mind. Hi, Scott!”
Oh, it was Scott, Stiles’ childhood best friend. Stiles used to talk about him
and Derek even heard him once, but this was the first time he actually saw him.
Derek tried to shake the images of a certain tanned, tangled hair and puppyish
brown-eyed man found behind an alley somewhere. It had been a rather excessive
trail of thought for someone he only suspected could be Stiles’ boyfriend.
Maybe he was a little possessive.
“Yeah, whatever. You always said the same about General Hospital.” Scott threw
back, laughing as he headed to what Derek presumed was his room, closing the
door.
“Hey, Steve Burton is a good enough reason to watch anything.”
After that, Stiles looked back at Derek. “Oh, right. You’ve never actually met
Scott before. Weird. Anyway, we share an apartment now. Our parents wanted us
to go to different colleges to meet new people and spread our wings, but we
wanted to be rommies. They got their way, though.” Stiles said with a chuckle.
“Apparently he met this mysterious but beautiful girl while in a trip across
the country. So he decided to post-pone his coming home date instead of helping
me move in. Some friend, uh? Not that he had any obligation of helping me out,
but that is what friends are for!”
“All those boxes were all yours?” Derek asked, slightly in shock.
“Yup. And don’t look so surprised. I have a lot of shit. All of it essential to
my survival and well-being.” Derek eyes the consoles and pyramid of games
standing by the television. “Don’t make that face! I would go nuts without all
my consoles and games!”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Of course you would.”
“Actually, if it wasn’t for wii fit, I wouldn’t do any exercise. And the
shooting games are essential to my mental stability.” Stiles said. “I like to
pretend they are people I don’t like.” Stiles whispered with a wink.
Derek snorted sarcastically. “You should’ve teach me that technique sooner.”
Scott’s door opens before Stiles could say anything else. “I’m tired and I need
to sleep, so shut up you two.” Scott warned. “Please.” He added, when he met
Derek’s gaze, closing the door right away, still afraid of the older man.
Stiles chuckles, getting up and, once again, Derek felt the irrational urge to
rip Scott’s head out. “I think Scott is afraid of you.” Stiles noted.
Derek retorted smiling just enough that it showed his fearful canines. Stiles
nodded again, leading him to the door.
“Well, I’ll see you next week, Miguel.” Stiles said, grimacing. “Next time,
pick a better name.” He whispered and Derek rolled his eyes.
“’Until next week, Stiles.” Derek pressed because he wasn’t, in matter a fact,
one to complain about other people’s names. “And that isn’t even your real
one.”
Stiles stuck his tongue out childishly as Derek left the apartment and he would
be lying if he said he wouldn’t be counting the minutes until next Sunday.
---
Derek wakes up, wheezing, drenched in a pool of his own sweat, the smell of
smoke, wolfsbane and burned flesh still present in the air – echoes of his
dream. He tries to escape the instinct to carve his claws – they’re claws,
Derek notices, ripping apart the bed sheets – into his flesh, to soothe out the
pain.
He closes his eyes, taking long deep breathes, thinking of the time he went
camping with his family, when he went on a hunting trip with Mark or when Laura
made him wear a tux and be her escort to prom, because she had got tons of
invites from ex-boyfriends wanting to take her and they really wouldn’t bother
her if Derek was there.
But mostly, he thought of Stiles, of their afternoons together in the woods, of
them playing baseball, hide and seek, of Stiles’ laugh that one time Derek
carried him all over the forest on his back.
When Derek came back to himself, the claws were back to fingers and he heard
the knock on the door – most probably the sound that had awaken him before the
dream reached its inevitable conclusion.
Derek got up, knowing exactly who was on the other side, and walked towards the
door, opening it up to see Stiles.
“Hi.” Stiles greeted, his eyes focused on his face, probably on the sweat
dripping from his forehead and the black circles around his eyes. “You were
crying.”
Derek takes his hands to his eyes and – yup, those are tears. Derek almost
didn’t notice them among all the sweat – add red eyes to the mess he must look.
He blinks, trying to shake them off. “It’s just sweat.” He shrugs.
“Derek.”
“Stiles.” He shoots back. “What do you want?” Derek asks, rubbing a hand
through his face.
“I thought you could want some company, since, you know.” Stiles shrugs. “Never
mind, it was stupid. I just thought since, we used to spend her anniversary
together you’d want to spend theirs...” Stiles says, shaking his head and
whatever you was going to say. “I should go.”
Before he turns to go back to his apartment, Derek opens the door all the way
and goes back inside, sitting on the couch. Stiles stands there, motionless,
for a while, before coming in and closing the door after him.
“Do you want me to make you something?” Stiles asks.
“Only have coffee.” Derek says, tired, closing his eyes and resting his head
against the sofa. He would not be able to sleep anymore tonight – he knew it
from past experience.
“Coffee it is.” Stiles said, moving around the kitchen and Derek could feel the
ease of his movements, like this, Derek waking up from a bad dream and Stiles
making him coffee, was normal, a routine, even.
Derek didn’t like to think about how things might’ve turned out. It hurts too
much, because he had lost too much that he wouldn’t ever get back. But if Derek
had tried harder to keep the boy that brighten his days in his life, if he had
went to Stiles and not Kate, if he hadn’t killed Kate, with time things between
them might’ve grown into something more. Maybe this could be his life, their
life. Together.
Stiles places the cup of coffee in the center table and sits beside him in the
couch.
“What happened to your sink?” Stiles asked.
Damn it, he had left the bathroom door open.
“Nerves.”
“Remind me to never get in your bad side then.” Stiles said, as a joke,
immediately shutting his mouth with a click.
Derek snorted, picking the cup of coffee up from the table and taking a sip.
They stayed in silence while drank the coffee, letting the back bitter liquid
warm his empty interior, the tension eventually giving place to familiarity and
ease.
When Derek finished the coffee, he rested his head against Stiles’ shoulder and
smelled the younger man’s arousal. That was right, Derek was still in his
pajama pants, completely shirtless. But Stiles merely placed one arm around
Derek’s shoulder, yearning him closer until Derek was curled in Stiles’ lap.
Derek closed his eyes, inhaling Stiles’ smell, feeling safe and protected in
the other man’s embrace.
Derek woke up the next morning, with the sound of a door closing off, laying
alone on the couch, a blanket placed carefully over him and the smell of hot
coffee filling the air.
It was the first time he was able to sleep after a nightmare.
---
Derek and Stiles quickly fell into a confortable routine.
Scott never joined, calling it girly show, spending his nights chatting
endlessly with Allison, the mysterious and allegedly beautiful girl he’d meet
while roaming around the country, of who Scott talked about 24/7, driving
Stiles insane.
They’d meet every Sunday night in Stiles shared apartment, order take out and
watch Once Upon a Time. They also met during other days of the week, to drink
coffee first thing in the morning (real coffee, Derek, not that black
undrinkable thing you have in your apartment), to play video games or watch
movies, they’d also go out and Derek would take Stiles to all the little hidden
places he had uncovered around town.
Then the hiatus came around, and so did finals and Derek found himself missing
Stiles, unable to see him unless for the occasional Hi, how are you doing?
Stiles even stopped going to the coffee shop where Derek worked, like he did
every day since they’d meet again and it was unnerving.
The whole situation was ridiculous, like they were complete strangers.
Derek missed Stiles’ warm body. His scent. The occasional, completely
accidental and awkward brush of their skin and the following blushing. Stiles
babbling and easiness. Stiles’ smile, the sound of his laugh and the constant
movement, because Stiles was always moving, always active, shaking his leg,
biting his lip, chewing on his nails or sleeves, beating his fingers against
any surface. It was soothing.
Because Stiles was his anchor, but Stiles also made his heart beat like never
before, made the blood pump hot through his veins whenever Derek arrived too
soon and Stiles was dripping wet, with only a towel hanging precariously around
his waist. Or how Derek’s eyes found themselves focusing on Stiles’ red lips,
swollen from the constant biting, and wanted nothing but to take and claim.
Apparently, Stiles thought it was ridiculous too.
One Friday night, Derek heard him walk over to his door, waiting there for a
(long) while, in which Derek pondered to simply open the door, before he
knocked loudly and rapidly.
Derek immediately opened the door.
Stiles, halfway through the hallway already, turned around, biting at his
knuckle, like a small child caught doing something nasty.
Derek stared at Stiles, the question obvious in his look. Stiles gagged on his
knuckle and tilted his head to something under his feet.
Derek looked down only to found a paper folded in two laying on the floor. He
rolled his eyes, picking it up and unfolding it with care. Derek took the piece
of paper closer to his nose, smelling Stiles cinnamon scent, mixed with vanilla
and a hint of mint.
Hi Derek Miguel. It’s Stiles, obviously, unless you meet someone else who would
leave a paper at your front door and ran away like an idiotic coward
afterwards. If you do, I pity you and I seriously advise getting new friends!
If that’s even what we are...
  Meet me in the address below. It has the date (today!) and the time (in an
hour!). Don’t look up what it is! Just meet me there. I’ll explain everything
there. Despite the fact that you will probably get the complete picture when
you actually see the place.
  Don’t worry, I’m not a serial killer out to murder you and turn you into my
latest victim. Ugh, I forgot you don’t like death jokes. You’re the one that
looks like one, anyways. A serial killed, not a death joke. Ups, I did it
again. And now I’m singing along with the Britney Spears’ song. Damn it, brain,
focus!
  I guess I’ll see you there, Derek Miguel. If you don’t think I’m a complete
and utter moron, which I am.
 Derek was trying to fight off a chuckle, because he still felt a bit annoyed.
Stiles’ brain/hand filter was even worse than his mouth one. He folded the
paper, looking at Stiles.
“Where’s the place?” Derek asked, waving the paper.
Stiles sighed, coming in the apartment. Derek closed the door behind him.
“A gay bar.” Stiles said, turning to look at the older man, still standing by
the door. “I like you. Like I like you, like you. Like I used to like Lydia,
although I forgot about her the minute I met you and Lydia became nothing more
than a scape goat for the feelings I harbored for you, although equally
unobtainable.” Stiles shakes his head, brushing his hands through his buzz cut
hair.
Derek had never seen it longer than that. Ever.
He wondered why. Maybe it had something to do with his mother’s death.
“I love you, Derek. I’ve loved you since I was eight years old and I had no
clue what love even was. I still loved you the day your parents died, when I
found you in the forest, but you just left. You left and I felt like crap and
then we met again and I don’t know if you like me or not, because you keep
sending me all these conflicting signs and I just I can’t handle it anymore.”
“You left me first.” Derek almost shouts, not wanting to sound as mad as he
did, pointing an accusing finger at Stiles.
Stiles grunts, spinning around.
“I was a child.” Stiles was shouting too. “I was ten years old and I loved you
and all I knew was that you were leaving me and it hurt. It hurt so much. Just
like my mom left me, when she died, and I know it’s not the same and that I
probably overreacted but I was just a kid. And don’t play the fucking victim,
Derek, you made me believe I saved you from turning your life to shit but you
went and fucking killed Kate anyway!” And now Stiles was crying and it was
Derek’s fault. Shit.
“I had already killed her.” Derek muttered, suddenly taken aback.
“Oh.” Was Stiles only response, wiping away his tears in frustration.
“I was going to kill the others, too.” Derek said, stepping closer to Stiles,
slowly and carefully. “You saved me from that.” Derek stopped only inches from
Stiles. “From more pain and more regret.” He said, and it took so much to say
so little.
Stiles looked at him and nodded.
“Can I?” Derek asked, lifting his arms up.
Stiles rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you dumbass, put your fucking arms around me
already.”
Derek chuckled, hugging Stiles by the waist and pulling him closer against him,
burying his face in Stiles’ neck and taking in his scent, leading him back to a
happier place, as well as to the saddest and most painful day of his life, to
his darkest moments and finally to the careless hours of sitting by a coach,
discussing a silly tv show.
With Stiles, he was whole.
“I…” Derek sighed, almost crushed by the words, by the angst filled moment. He
felt it, love, but he couldn’t yet say it. Maybe he never would.
“I know.” Is Stiles’ only answer and Derek knows he’s smiling.
Derek breathes out, resting his forehead against Stiles’. He smells the spicy
scent of lust and arousal coming from the younger man, from himself, filling
the air around them, spreading across the entire room. Derek can’t resist but
lay a soft kiss against Stiles’ lips, which quickly deepens, though, filled
with the unspoken words and hungry desire of countless years.
 “I can smell it in you, but I need to ask. Do you really want to do this? I
can wait.” Derek growled against Stiles parted lips, with thick voice and
shallow breath. He felt Stiles’ heart yammering against his chest, faster with
each beat, his dick twitching, hardening, against Derek’s thigh.
The truth was, none of them could really wait any longer.
Stiles response was lost though, in whatever hurricane was going through his
head right now and Derek growled, and it sounded needier than Derek would ever
admit. He pressed their bodies together, pinning Stiles hard against the door.
Thrusting forward and rubbing their dicks together through the fabric, Stiles’
mouth opened even more, in a perfect “o” and Derek brushed his teeth and tongue
against Stiles’ neck, tasting his burning skin.
“I wantyou.” Stiles was able to mutter in a shaken voice and Derek bit his
neck.
Stiles whined from the pain of the bite. “Fuck, Derek.” And moaned when Derek
kissed the bruise off of Stiles’ skin and repeated the process, climbing his
neck with bites and open mouthed kisses.
He licked Stiles’ mouth, tasting him and grazed his tongue through Stiles’
lips, through his teeth and through his gums, pressing then their lips
together, forceful and rude.
Stiles’ hands were all over Derek’s jacket as he took it off awkwardly. But
Stiles was as awkward as he was laid back, a strange combination that just felt
right. Derek put his arms down, passively letting Stiles take his leather
jacket off while he kissed and bit the younger man’s lips, the jacket falling
on the ground.
Derek then grabbed Stiles’ hips as he lifted him up, forcing the younger man to
curl his legs around Derek’s waist, his hands all over Derek’s back, pushing
them closer together, feeling his muscles through the fabric of the tank top.
Putting his hands under the fabric and felling Derek’s hot muscled skin beneath
his own.
Derek slid is hand through Stiles’ jeans, pressing them against his thighs,
which made Stiles’ moan into his mouth and wondered across Stiles’ skin to
press his hand against Stiles’ ass, supporting his weight while he carried
Stiles to the bedroom, trading wet kisses along the way.
Inside the room, Derek dropped Stiles down on the bed, hopping in right away
and approaching Stiles slowly, predatorily.
He ran his hands through Stiles shoes, taking them off one by one, rubbing his
hands through Stiles’ jeans and, even though the fabric, Derek could feel
Stiles’ skin shivering, his body hair bristling underneath his touch.
Derek start to unbutton Stiles’ jeans, slowly, pressing his hand against the
other man’s crotch, feeling the length of his cock, Stiles thrusting up,
pressing his dick harder against Derek’s touch.
“Hurry up.” Stiles whined through shallow breath. “Imagine I’m a lonely little
present laying alone by the Christmas’ tree on Christmas’ eve. Imagine you’re a
spoiled kid that can never get enough. Just unwrapme like you don’t care.”
Derek’s expression went blank as he froze, in the middle of pushing Stiles’
jeans off. Christmas was something that reminded him of things that were better
left forgotten. But so did Stiles. He couldn’t spend the rest of his life
running. He had done enough of that already.
Derek’s eyes met Stiles’ who made an apologetic face. “Sorry, mood killer.”
Derek growled softly, he wasn’t really angry, just momentarily taken aback.
He rolled his eyes and smirked as he yanked Stiles’ jeans off, sending them
flying to a corner of the room, along with his boxers, with enough force that
made Stiles jump from the bed, shouting in surprise, and landing in a slightly
uncomfortable position.
“Way to be gentle, dumbass!” Stiles complained and Derek just chuckled.
“Well, I unwrapped you.” Derek said, wrapping his hands around Stiles’ legs and
pushing Stiles closer, stroking Stiles dick as he bended down, taking it into
his mouth and closing his lips around Stiles’ hard cock, licking his head with
a wet, soft tongue.
Stiles moaned and arched his hips up, pushing his dick farther into Derek’s
mouth and then pulling back, fucking his mouth.
Faster and faster.
Until Derek left Stiles’ cock leaking with pre-cum.
Stiles whined. “Please, Derek, I’m so close.”
“And apparently I have another present to unwrap.” Derek whispered against
Stiles’ dick which took another whine from the other man’s mouth, taking it all
in and then letting go, which was all that was needed before he felt a
convulsion go through Stiles’ body.
“Oh, fuck, Derek. I’m cumming.”
Derek lifted Stiles’ shirt as Stiles came all over his belly, Derek’s hand
guiding him through the orgasm, Stiles reduced to nothing more than panting
moans.
“Fuck.” He let out again, pleased and breathless, enjoying his afterglow.
Derek removed Stiles’ plaid and then his shirt, sniffing the come for a second,
taking in the intensity of Stiles’ smell, rubbing a hand all through Stiles’
belly, making an even bigger mess of cum, spreading it all over Stiles’ body,
taking one of the cum filled hands and leading it to Stiles’ face, rubbing it
against his cheeks and brushing it against his mouth.
“Fuck.” Stiles muttered, taking his tongue off to lick at Derek’s hand, tasting
himself.
Derek smirked, leaning forward and licking Stiles’ face, slowly and messily,
where he’d previously rubbed in cum, leaving gob everywhere. He kissed Stiles
afterwards, feeling the taste of cum in both of their tongues.
Derek then kissed his chin, his neck, travelling down to his nipples, taking
his time there, licking and nibbling, leaving them red and hard. When he’s
satisfied with his work at Stiles’ nipples, Derek leaves a trail of kisses down
Stiles’ chest till his happy trail, holding his hips, tilting his ass up and
rubbing a careful finger around Stiles’ asshole.
Stiles moans.
“Just fuck, Derek! C’mon, fuck me!” Stiles pleaded, his voice wrecked,
thrusting his ass further into Derek’s finger.
Derek holds tight at Stiles’ grip, steading him, looking up at Stiles and
raising a brow. “This is your first time, Stiles. I’m not a…” He shook his
head. Well, he kind of was a monster, but that was beside the point. “The thing
is, I want you to get a little more from this than excruciating pain.”
Stiles looked up at the ceiling and growled.
“Are you mimicking me?” Derek asked, slightly amused, holding back a chuckle.
Stiles grimaced. “Yeah. I know, it was pathetic. Let’s never do that again. It
felt more like a whimper – like I was begging, really. Which I kind of was, but
that’s not the point. The point is, it didn’t do wonders to my poor self-
esteem. Let’s forget I ever did that sound. It was behind pathetic.”
Derek leaned forward, placing a hand around Stiles’ head, brushing his fingers
through his buzz cut and pressing him forward, smashing his lips against
Stiles’, shutting him up effectively. “Nothing you do is pathetic.” He muttered
and Stiles hummed contently, rubbing his hands through Derek’s chest as he sit
back up.
Derek slid a finger into Stiles’ ass, seeing as Stiles moaned and couldn’t
resist to thrust forward just the slightest, trying to take more of the feeling
of Derek’s finger twisting and turning inside him.
Derek bent down and started licking around his hole.
After a while, Derek found a spot that made Stiles arch up and release a deep
high moan. Derek started to finger him faster and harder there, adding a second
finger in, and then a third, twisting and scissoring his fingers inside Stiles,
delighting himself in the obscene noises Stiles was making, all for him,
becauseof him.
Derek took his time with Stiles, exploring his ass, licking it, making up new
positions with his fingers and watch Stiles’ reaction, memorizing what movement
led to what sound, leaving Stiles’ ass all wet and open after hearing Stiles
moan in five hundred different tones.
When Derek removed his fingers from inside Stiles’, he initially complained
until he saw Derek unbuttoning his own pants and taking them off. Derek saw
Stiles’ eyes widen when he freed his dick, his mouth falling.
Derek smirked, lifting Stiles up and laying him on his lap, Derek’s dick
pressing against Stiles’ butt cheek.
Derek licked one drop of sweat dripping down Stiles’ forehead. Then he kissed
Stiles, running a hand up his back and brushing another through his buzz cut,
moving forward and pinning Stiles against the bed’s wood work.
When Stiles’ back hit the wood work, Derek broke the kiss, burying his nose in
Stiles’ neck, taking in his scent, now with hints of salt, cum and Derek’s own
scent.
 “Final warning.” He muttered, panting.
Stiles cupped Derek’s face and smashed his lips against Derek’s, kissing him
roughly. Actions and smell spoke louder than words, even if Stiles was a pretty
loud talker, the message was crystal clear. Yes, dumbass, I want you.Derek
could almost hear him.
Derek broke the kiss, pulling Stiles’ lips as he searched the night stand for
some lube and a condom. Stiles let out a unpleased grunt and before he could
complain even further, Derek pin him against the wood work once again with just
one hand. Stiles groaned in surprise, looking at Derek as he was biting off the
condom’s casing.
“Oh, right, safety first.” Stiles babbled.
Derek smirks as he put the condom around the length of his cock and leaned
down, biting Stiles’ butt cheek and brushing his tongue inside his butt one
last time before lifting up Stiles a bit before entering him, slowly. Very
slowly. Because Stiles screamed.
They eventually got to an understanding. Stiles’ nodded once for him to
continue and punched his chest with what Derek supposed was meant to be brutal
force when Stiles wanted him to stop – his panting and moaning a constant
throughout the process.
After a while, Derek was finally inside him and Stiles’ head, sweaty (all of
him was sweaty), laid down against Derek’s shoulder. Derek was really still,
scared of hurting Stiles. “Are you okay?” Derek asked – worry filling his
voice.
Stiles whined when Derek’s word rumbled through his body against Stiles’.
“Peachy. It’s not like I have a humongous thing stuck up my ass that moves at
your slightest contraction.” Stiles mutters, breathing in because talking was
not a good idea. “I’m okay. I just need some time. Time to adapt. Time to lay
down and die.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “Just don’t fall asleep on me or I’ll feel even worse.”
Derek whispers in a half serious, half mocking voice.
“Don’t mock me!” Stiles says with a thrust towards Derek, which releases a
moan.
Derek thrusts back, instinctively and Stiles moaned again, this time with
pleasure, although there was a still a little pain. Derek could feel it.
Derek’s tightens his grip on Stiles thighs, steading him, now both of them
completely drenched in sweat, looking at Stiles and the younger man nodded.
That was all the confirmation Derek needed before thrusting again.
“Oh, fuck!” Stiles shouted, his grip around Derek’s neck and back tightening.
Stiles’ dick was hard again, ready for round two and Derek started to thrust
faster and faster, harder and harder, taking his dick almost entirely out of
Stiles’ ass, only leaving the head in, and then thrusting forward, his balls
hitting against Stiles’ hole, their legs splashing together in a rather noisy
way.
Stiles’ noises became more and more deep, more constant. Derek was grunting
too, his voice thick and deep as Derek slid one hand to Stiles throat, burying
his head there and biting at Stiles’ neck, forming new bruises and licking the
old owns. 
Their bodies were so close together as Derek just fucked Stiles.
Their mouths found each other as they traded a sloppy kiss.
“You’re so tight Stiles.” Derek groaned.
“It’s my first time you idiotic moron. And it’s not like I’ve been putting
lamps in there just to make it wider for when rude and inattentive sour wannabe
male models came to fuck me.” Stiles said, kissing (which was more like
licking) Derek’s mouth and the other man bit him jokingly, making Stiles let
out a moan, muffled by Derek locking their lips again.
“You’re a little control freak with a childish need to be always on top, you
know that, right?” Stiles asked through a kiss, panting.
“So I’ve been told by barely adult hyperactive guys, which have no mouth to
brain filter or the ability to shut up.” Derek retorted and thrusted harder
into Stiles. He was quite enjoying it when Stiles’ only noises were groans and
whimpers. He wanted them back.
“Such a child.” Stiles stutters through moans, thrusting back, for good
measure. 
After a while of thrusting back and forth, Derek fastened his rhythm, the bed
rocking against the wall, and when he felt like he was dangerously close, Derek
growled and took himself out of Stiles, cumming with just a stroke at his own
cock, scattering cum all over Stiles’ belly.
Stiles’ went for his cock too, and it only needed a slight touch before both of
them were panting and moaning form their orgasms, and for Stiles chest to be
full with both of their cum.
“Fuck.” Stiles moaned, throwing his head back.
---
Derek woke up to Stiles’ embraced around his arms, his head resting between the
spot where Stiles’ neck met his shoulder, their naked bodies still pressed
tightly against each other. Derek lightly squeezed Stiles, taking in his scent
and they both moaned happily.
“Good morning, Derek.” Stiles said sleepily, arching his head back to take a
better look at Derek, patting him on the back.
“Good morning, Stiles.” Derek said, laying gentle kisses on Stiles’ moles,
tracing the rest of his moles with his fingers, all across his body.
Derek started to mouth at Stiles’ fresh bruises, brushing his hand up and down
Stiles’ tights. The younger man shifted, turning to face Derek, who pulled
Stiles closer against his body.
Stiles cupped Derek’s face, brushing his hands through Derek’s stubble, leaning
closer to kiss him. They laid lazily in bed, trading sloppy kisses.
Eventually, Derek persuades Stiles to take a shower, alluring him out of bed
with the promise of morning sex. They both take advantage of the situation to
slowly explore the other’s body, and by the time when the soap was finally
washed away by the hot steaming water, both of their dicks were big and hard.
They rub them together for a while, until Derek turns Stiles around, thrusting
his dick into Stiles’ ass, their moaning and panting being muffled out by the
noise of running water. Derek thrusted again, smirking as he heard Stiles
letting out a deep moan, but then he coughed, rather violently.
Derek stopped.
“Are you okay?” He asked, tapping on Stiles’ arm when he got no answer,
worried.
Stiles tilted his head backwards. “What?” He shouted, though barely audible
through the stream of water.
Gladly Derek has a sensible ear.
“I asked you if you’re okay.” Derek asked.
Stiles looked at him blankly.
“You coughed…” Derek clarifies.
Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh. “You were fucking me under a stream of
running water, you moron! My mouth opens and water comes in! Of course I
coughed. You’re lucky I didn’t choke on it and died! Whose brilliant idea was
it to have me face this side, anyway?”
Derek rolled his eyes and before Stiles had any more time to complain, he
manhandles him against the other side, pinning him against the wall.
Stiles grunts.
“Better?” Derek muttered with sharp voice into Stiles’ ear.
“Yeah, I’m much better. Thank you for being so careful.” Stiles says, sarcasm
filling his voice.
“You’re unbelievable.” Derek says, rolling his eyes and letting a smirk form in
his lips.
“So I’ve been told. But you put up with me, so I guess you don’t mind. Better
yet, I bet you like me becauseof my annoyance, wittiness and general
awesomeness.” Stiles said.
Derek released a loud breath against Stiles’ skin. “I guess I do.” He let out
and felt Stiles’ heart start to bit faster. Derek brushed his teeth against
Stiles’ neck, lingering between kissing or biting his skin, enjoying the
feeling of Stiles’ skin shivering under his canine, settling for a kiss.
“You’re such a sap.” Stiles says.
Derek rocks into Stiles, nibbling at his ear and hearing Stiles letting out a
long moan, rubbing one hand against his thigh and then grabbing his dick,
starting to stroke it hard and fast. Derek pulls out of Stiles and thrusts back
again. Stiles, still pinned against the wall, thrusts back towards Derek with a
whimper.
It’s a thing they do.
---
Eventually they get out of the shower, Stiles sitting back on the bed, with
only a towel around his waist, following Derek with his eyes while Derek  takes
a pair of pants from the drawers, struggling a bit to get into them. Stupid
tight pants.
“So, that is why you’re always with a sour face.”
Derek hears Stiles laughing and throws him a warning look, arching an eyebrow
which only makes Stiles laugh harder.
“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, still laughing.
Derek rolls his eyes, sitting on the bed next to Stiles while putting on some
socks and tying his shoelaces.
Derek feels Stiles’ fingers trailing across his back, delineating Derek’s
triskelion tattoo and, his skin shivering beneath the other man’s touch.
He looked at Stiles and the younger man was wearing a smug smile.
“What does your tattoo mean?” Stiles asks.
“It’s a triskelion.” He says, receiving nothing but a blank stare. Derek sighs.
“Each spiral represents a different part of a triplet. To my family, it meant
alpha, beta and omega. To some, it means past, present and future. Or even
father, mother and son.” Derek explains.
“What does it mean to you?”
Derek takes a deep breath.
“Each spiral symbolizes a different part of me.” He says while Stiles starts to
follow the lines of one of the spirals. “That one symbolizes the pain, sorrow
and guilt I felt when my family died.” The burned house.
Stiles takes a deep breath. “Guilt?” He asks, confused.
Derek brushes the palms of his hands against his face, shaking his head.
Stiles’ knew there was something different in Derek. He’d always known. But
what exactly was still a mystery to the younger man. Stiles didn’t know he was
a werewolf and, truthfully, Derek could only handle an emotional revelation per
day.
Stiles sighed, giving up for now, his fingers moving to circle another spiral.
“That one represents the fury and anger I felt when I realized Kate had killed
them.” The wolf.Stiles’ fingers dance through Derek’s skin until they get to
the top spiral. Derek smiles widely. “The last spiral symbolizes hope. It is
there as a reminder that even in the darkest of hours, there is this subtle
glimpse of light.”
Derek looks at Stiles, into those sweet brown eyes, those full parted lips. He
inhales, filling his lungs with the smell of cinnamon, vanilla, mint and a hint
of the spicy scent of arousal, couple with Derek’s scent. He can also feel
Stiles’ heart beat speeding up, his blood rushing faster through his fingers as
they walked through his skin, towards Derek’s neck.
“It’s you, Stiles. Every time I was feeling like there was nothing else for me,
when the pain got so unbearable I just wanted to end it all, the boy in the
woods was always there, bringing me back to the surface, finding me.”
Stiles’ fingers brushed through Derek’s still wet hair, leaning forward and
kissing away the tears he didn’t felt falling from his eyes.
“I seem to remember you doing all the finding.” Stiles whispered.
Derek rolled his eyes. “That’s debatable.”
Stiles’ then cupped Derek’s face into his hands. “I’m here with you now, Derek.
I won’t be leaving you again.” He said, kissing Derek who let out a growl
inside the younger man’s mouth, yanking the towel away and pulling Stiles on
top of him and holding him, steady, by his thighs.
Stiles’ grip on Derek’s hair and back tightened, pressing them closer as the
kiss deepened. As the kisses got more rough and urgent, Stiles rocked his hips
against Derek’s, who grunted while the younger man moaned.
“I have to go to work and you have college.” Derek muttered, breathless,
between kisses, loosening his grip on Stiles’ thighs.
Stiles sighed, getting off of Derek.
Derek got up from the bed, putting on a black henley.
“What are you having for breakfast?” Stiles asked. “I’m kind of hungry for more
than hot wild sex.” He added with a smirk.
“Oh.” Derek said. “I usually have breakfast at the coffee shop I work in, so I
don’t have much stuff at home.”
Stiles pouted.
“I’ll go buy something for us to eat.” Derek said.
“Are you sure? I mean, I’m so hungry I could eat a horse, and I’m not even
kidding, I mean that in a literal sense. Apparently, sex makes me really
hungry. Who knew? Not me. So, I might be hungry, really hungry, but you don’t
need to go buy me food. I don’t want to be a pain in your ass. I mean that
figuratively, I would love to fuck you. Hum, sorry, not the point.” Stile said,
biting at the towel he had caught between his fingers.
“No problem. And you would be a pleasant pain in my ass, Stiles.” Derek said
with a smile, laying his hands on Stiles hips and bringing him closer while the
younger man held his breath. “I would love to have breakfast with you.”
Derek leaned into a soft kiss.
“Now I’m going shopping.” He said, leaving Stiles, picking up his sunglasses
and walking towards the door.
“And I’m gonna jack off all over your bathroom.” Stiles said.
“Stiles.” Derek warned with a growl, closing the door behind him.
---
Derek was half running down the street to the nearest convenience store when he
stopped dead on his tracks. The roar of a motor and the sound of wheels running
through the asphalt was everything he could hear as his heartbeat skyrocketed,
the blood rushing fast through his veins.
Derek instinctively turn to hide among the shadows of the nearest alleyway,
still unsure of what the danger actually was until he saw them.
They were in a black van with tainted windows but the driver’s one was open,
revealing Chris Argent and another hunter he’d never seen before. 
No!
They couldn’t be back, not now, not when he and Stiles were starting to build
something, together. That morning when he woke up next to Stiles, to his scent
and his heat, for the first time since the fire he felt like home.
After the shower, he had opened himself up to Stiles more than he ever did with
anyone else.
And now the hunters were back and all Derek wanted was to tell Stiles
everything, because he knew Stiles would leave everything behind for him, to be
with him. And that was exactly why Derek couldn’t ask him. He didn’t want this
life to become Stiles’ – leaving everyone he ever knew and loved, hopping from
town to town, never staying anywhere too long – the dark cloud of the hunters
always hovering above them.
Derek couldn’t handle Stiles waking up one day and regret that decision, regret
Derek, slowly starting to hate him for destroying and ruining his life.
He couldn’t handle anymore guilt.
So Derek waited until the van disappeared to get out of the alley. There was no
point going to the convenience store now. His fairytale was over. He had been
fooling himself with Stiles. It was time to wake up.
So Derek turned around and went back to the apartment, certain of what had to
be done.
Thought, that didn’t meant it didn’t kill him.
---
Derek opened the door and found Stiles lying lazily on the couch, slowly
rocking his knees together and tapping his fingers against the center table and
the movement might be slow, but it was still there. It was always there. Always
had been, Derek remembers as he finds himself being taken back to the countless
afternoons he spent with an always talking, never stopping, never resting
Stiles. Even during the night, Stiles had been twisting and turning
uninterruptedly in his arms.
Derek felt a lump in his throat and a weight taking rest in his chest as he
closed the door loudly, waking Stiles from his drowsy state, who jumped on the
couch and looked at Derek, breathing out of relief.
“Derek, you scared me.” Stiles says. “You know, if you want to kill me, there
are better ways. Oh, sorry. They kind of come naturally. Wait…” Stiles stops,
his smile fading from his lips, his eyes attentive as he looks better at Derek,
as his brain gears move, as he spots every detail closely. “You were already
wearing that mug when you came in.” His eyes look down, probably noticing the
lack of groceries and back up again. “What happened, Derek?”
As Stiles approached him and Derek closed his eyes, letting his claws and teeth
come out. When he opened his eyes again, they were blood red and Stiles had
stopped, looking at him, unsure.
“So… you’re a werewolf. I’ve seen your eyes before, you know. If this was
supposed to be some big revelation and something you thought I would leave you
because, let me just assure you that I’m not impressed. I mean, it could be
worse. You could’ve a knot…”
Whatever Stiles was about to say next, it was smothered by Derek’s growl and
whatever words Stiles was still babbling through the noise were punched out of
him when Derek, not too gently, gripped a fist into the younger man’s shirt and
slammed him against the wall.
“Everything is a joke to you, isn’t it?” Derek muttered into his ear and his
voice was as threatening as he could muster while trying to push the pain he
felt for doing this to Stiles, his anchor and the one person that, despite not
needing to, trusted him above everything else, probably more than he should,
away. “I’m a monster, Stiles. An abomination. I could kill you right now.” He
said, his sharp teeth brushing against Stiles’ neck.
Stiles laughed, sarcastic, despite the fear Derek could smell in him and the
heart pounding hard and fast in his chest.
“I’ve known you since I was eight, Derek. That’s ten years. Please, don’t
insult me feeding me lies. I know you could never kill me. And you’re not a
monster, you’re not an abomination. If there is anyone in this story that is
one is her. It’s Kate, Derek.”
“Shut up!” Derek shouted as he unclenched his fist from Stiles’ shirt and
brought it up to grasp at his neck, tightening his grip around it and pulling
Stiles upwards, feeling the tears at the back of his eyes as Stiles started to
choke, as he went to plan B. He never really thought what he was would scare
Stiles away. He had seen his eyes before, knew Derek was a killer and, somehow,
nothing of that seemed to matter.
Derek wished he wouldn’t have to resort to plan B, but he had no illusions
about Plan’s A destined failure.
“I never loved you.” He muttered into Stiles’ ear. “This was just sex and, you
know what? Why keep up the charade. You’re just an hyperactive brat with no
mouth filter that was a pain in my ass for years. The least I could do was get
something out of you. And I did it, so just leave.” Derek said, letting Stiles’
feet touch the floor, but still gripping tight at his throat, trying to manage
a grin.
Stiles’ expression hardened and he yanked Derek’s arm away, only being able to
do it because Derek was so surprised that there was no fear or even hurt
intoxicating Stiles’ smell, only anger.
“FUCK YOU!” Stiles shouted, shaking his head, rubbing his hands against his
buzz cut and trying to keep his breathing stable. “I don’t know why you are
doing this, maybe you think you don’t deserve something good in your life,
something you like or care about, but you do, Derek.” Stiles is crying and is
in pain, but he’s hurting forDerek and he can’t handle it, can’t handle this
anymore.
Derek punched the wall right beside Stiles, forming a fist shaped hole.
“LEAVE!” Derek shouted, convening a growl in the end, for good measure.
“FINE!” Stiles shouted back, bypassing Derek and walking towards the door,
yanking it open. “Call me when you’re not feeling like a bitch anymore.” He
said and the insult was clear in his voice. Then, when he’s about to close the
door, that seemed like would go out with a bang, he stops.
“I love you.” He whispers, in a tone that no normal human being would be able
to listen, but Derek is not normal. Stiles knows that, he has known this for a
very long time. Then, he closes the door softly and Derek turns back, letting
himself fall on the ground, let the tears stream.
His life had been destroyed, burned to the ground, again. This time he had no
one else to blame but himself. Derek howled for the loss of Stiles, his anchor
– for both the boy in the woods that had gotten under the wire and into his
life and for the man that had flown right back into it, like be belonged, like
he had never left.
Some werewolves mated at first sight.
Stiles and Derek had grown to be mates, or perhaps partners would be a more
suited word. And somehow he thought that building something with someone just
for it to get ripped away hurt even more. 
Chapter End Notes
     I always end these things at a perfect time, don't I? Also, there
     will be no time jumps between this chapter and the next. Take from
     that what you will.
     P.S. Derek shoves Stiles into a wall and threatens him. This is
     inserted into a context but if you think that is unacceptable
     behaviour, no matter the context, you've been warned!
***** Chapter 5 *****
Chapter by sarcasmandirony
Chapter Summary
     Gerard is a very crazy old men.
Chapter Notes
     So, this chapter took forever and I'm not that happy with it, but
     it's done! Yeyy!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Derek pushes the building’s door wide open, pressing his leather jack tighter
against his body to protect him from the night’s cold.
There were some places that, when the time came, Derek just packed his things
and moved away. No warnings to the places where he’d worked or the landlord of
the house he’d been staying. However, this time was different.
The old lady that owned the coffee shop where he worked during week days had
always been nice to him, despite Derek’s permanent scowl and occasional
rudeness towards the customers. She simply laughed it off with a shrug.
One time, when she finally cracked a smile out of him, she told him Derek
reminded her of her late husband. “A hard nut to crack open, but a mellow heart
on the inside” she’d said and it felt like something Stiles would say.
Derek grimaced at that, but from then on, he at least tried, though he wasn’t
that successful, to be a little bit nicer to the customers. Well, he at least
stopped giving them death stares and that was progress.
In the night club, there was also this girl, another bartender that worked with
Derek and, like everyone else, she had tried to flirt with him once. It was
something he had grown accustomed too, though he had rejected all invitations
since that one time. Normally people got a bit resented afterwards, but not
her. She just laughed it out, like it was something she had said just to give
it a shot, not really thinking she would succeed and she covered for him
whenever there was a full moon, no questions asked, always teasing him when
guys and girls alike handed him napkins with their phone numbers written on.
Derek was sure they probably were like that to anyone, but people were rarely
nice to him, not that he ever made it easy. So, although they never asked
anything in return, Derek thought he owed them something. At least a goodbye.
He was thinking about how he didn’t have the goodbye he wanted from Stiles, but
he at least hoped the younger man would move on – which was one of the reasons
he even went back to the apartment after he spotted the Argents. He didn’t want
Stiles to wait for him. His bubble had been burst. There was no happy ending
for Derek and Stiles. Derek would always be on the run. But there could be a
happy ending for Stiles and someone else because Stiles deserved, more than
anything, to be happy. No matter how the much he wanted to grab Stiles and take
him away, not letting anyone touch his blushed dotted skin ever again.
He was thinking about Stiles’ skin when he got up to his floor and found Scott,
asleep but his expression wearing a certain worriedness nonetheless, leaning
with his back across Derek’s door.
What the hell?
There was no reason for Scott to be asleep on his door, his scent filled with
worry and anger, unless he thought Derek had done something to Stiles,
something more than a break-up.
Suddenly, Derek’s senses became hyper aware, his wolf took charge, discerning
Stiles’ scent amongst the miscellaneous of smells crowing the air, his
cinnamon, vanilla and mint scent mixed with something else, with surprise and
fear, distress, cold sweat and chloroform, as well as the smell of two men
unfamiliar to the building, that had a distinctive wolfsbane, dry blood and
smoke scent, the type that grew with years of exposure until it infiltrated
itself into the skin and became a part of the person’s smell.
Derek could picture the scene in his head. When Stiles was leaving his
apartment, he’s faced with two hunters that probably threatened him. There was
a struggle, but the hunters managed to knock him out and taking him with them.
Derek was about to leave, following the smell, when his phone started to ring,
an unfamiliar pop tune that Stiles had probably inserted into the cell when
Derek left to get breakfast. The simple thought felt like a punch to his guts
and Derek grabbed the cell instantly, fearing that morning had been the last
time he heard Stiles’ laughter.
“You!” Scott shouted, waking up due to the ring tone.
Derek wasn’t listening to Scott anymore, though, his eyes focused in the
‘anonymous’ blinking and flashing in the caller ID. Derek knew very well who
was on the other side of that call.
“What did you do to him?” Scott insisted, growing madder.
Derek answered the call, continuing to ignore Scott. “If you hurt him, I swear
to god, I will kill you.” Derek said in a threatening voice, but all he hears
from the other side is laughter. Derek growls. “I willfind you and I will break
both your legs, so you can’t run away and then I’ll take my time with you until
you wish you weren’t even born.” He mutters, feeling his body shaking with
anger.
Scott is now standing very still at his side, like a statue with wide eyes,
irradiating fear, shock and confusion. Derek could care less about Scott right
now. His cover was blown. Stiles was in danger. Everything else could go to
hell.
“Well, well, this only makes everything sweeter.” The man says, with a deranged
calmness to his voice. “To be fair, I thought the boy was just a fling.
Actually, I was hoping you cared enough about him to make a trade. I’d let him
go and we would have a little showdown. But now I’ve changed my mind.” The man
laughs again and Derek closes his eyes.
Damn.He had ruined everything by being impulsive.
“I think we’re going to torture him slowly, tape it all. His screams, his
cries, his pleads for mercy – a mercy that won’t come, a mercy that you didn’t
show my daughter.” A shout escapes Gerard lips and he stops, taking a deep
breath to control himself.
“Like the mercy she showed my family?” Derek says and he’s voice is all but
controlled. It’s full of hate. Hate towards Kate, hate towards the hunters,
towards this stupid war and stupid prejudices, towards himself.
Gerard laughs again, like the mad man he is. “You really know nothing, do you?
I mean, how could you? My little daughter’s plan was a complete failure.” The
old man says, disappointment clouding his tone.
“What do you mean?” Derek asks, confused.
“Oh, she might’ve known nothing about mercy, but she certainly knew a lot about
love. Why did you think she choose a day you were out of town to burn your
entire family into the ground while they slept?” Derek held his breath. He
didn’t want to hear any of this. He didn’t care about whatever tainted and sick
notion of love Gerard had, or the one Kate might’ve felt for him. But somehow,
he couldn’t make himself speak a single word or move a single inch. “She loved
you and she probably had the romantic notion that, once she’d told you about
your family’s faith, you two would run way together. I mean, it’s not like you
guys were all that social, and the bodies were in pretty bad shape. Probably
the police would charge you as dead as well. But her plans didn’t count on the
sheriff’s son remembering you and knowing you were out of town. So, you found
out sooner that she expected and surprised her and, well, you know the rest.”
Gerard finished you a disgusting click of his tongue. “What relation did you
had with the Stilinski boy, anyway?”
Derek felt tears running down his face. Stiles had saved him from a life with
Kate, a lie with Kate. Of kissing her and trusting her, of making love to the
woman, the monster that had killed his entire family.
“One that doesn’t concern you.” Derek answers, a bit surprised Gerard didn’t
know who the man he had caught was. Probably he didn’t thought it was all that
important.
“Fair enough.” Gerard says and Derek can hear the hint of a smirk in the crazy
old man’s voice. “You’re going to regret ever taking me the pleasure of killing
my own daughter though.”
Derek freezes. There are few things in his life that, after so many years, are
able to leave Derek speechless, shocked and confused and suddenly wandering if
the world is a darker place than even he, with all he has been through,
imagines. “What?” Is the only answer he can muster.
Gerard laughs again, a dark, sarcastic and cruel laugh. “Oh, Derek. Do you
really think I would’ve let my daughter spare a filthy werewolf? She was trying
to hide that she was the culprit for the fire from you as much as she was
trying to hide that she had left one of you alive from me. Our deal had been
that, if she killed all of you, I could forgive her for ever dating an
abomination like you. Thank god for nosy kids, right? I mean, if you hadn’t
robbed me from the pleasure of killing her with my bare hands, I certainly
would’ve had all the pleasure.”
Gerard wasa monster.
“You’re sick.” Derek throws, through bared teeth.
Gerard snarls. “Look who’s talking, at least I’m human.” He says and, for the
first time, Derek saw what Stiles had tried to tell him that morning. That,
despite being a werewolf, a freak of nature, he was more human than Gerard
could ever dream to be. “Well, this little chat was rather pleasant, but I have
a little torturing to do.” Gerard says, amused and Derek can hear a muffled now
before he’s hearing a shirt being ripped and Stiles complaining, being his
usual sarcastic and saucy self.
“He’s a feisty one.”
Derek hears the whistle of a whip cutting through the air, hitting what could
only be flesh by the scream that Stiles’ released, a scream filled with pain
that got more and more intense with each quick blow and Derek only had the time
to ear “You got a screamer.” before crushing the cell in his fist.
“Who was that? What’s going on? Where’s Stiles? What did you do to him?” Scott
asks, his voice getting louder and more frantic with each question.
Derek ignores him. He tries to focus on the scent of the hunters, hoping it’s
not too late, that the scent outside of the building hasn’t faded. Derek’s
about to go down the stairs when a hand pushes him back and forces him to turn.
“Don’t you turn your back on me!” Scott shouts and before Derek realizes it,
he’s pushing Scott into a wall, pinning him there and hearing a slight whine of
pain.
“There’s nothing you can do! So just go back to worry about your little crush
and let this to the men.” Derek said through gritted teeth. He didn’t mean his
grip to be so hurtful, his tone to sound so harsh or his words to be so angry,
but he could feel the anger against the hunters reverberating through him,
making his entire body shake with rage and fury – the wolf yearning to come
out.
“He’s my friend too.” Scott whispers in a weak voice, fighting against tears
flourishing in his eyes.
Derek closed his eyes, easing the pressure of his hand on Scott and sighing
deeply. It was true, Scott was Stiles’ friend. He had been Stiles friend for
longer before Derek, he had been Stiles’ friend when Derek wasn’t and he
probably would be Stiles’ friend long after Derek would be gone. Because he had
no illusions. The hunters were ready for him, waiting for him to show up. His
only hope was to find the hunters before they killed Stiles, hoping they’d let
him go when Gerard’s vengeance was completed, but even that was uncertain.
They were doomed, unless…
“Do you really want to help?” Derek asked.
“Off course I do!” Scott let out, eagerly. “Do you want me to call his father?
He’s a sheriff, he’ll certainly be able to help.”
Derek growled. “If I tell you this, you have to promise me not to tell it to
anyone.”
“What if I do?”
Derek smirked. “They’ll lock you in a mental ward.” Then the smirk disappears,
a weight in his chest taking its place. “And Stiles dies.” Derek adds and
something in that potato head that only cares about Allison must’ve clicked,
because Scott nods, his expression full of new found purpose.
Derek opened his door and motioned for Scott to come inside, who complied, but
still sent Derek an unsure look.
When they were both inside, Derek closed the door and leaned against it, facing
Scott. “My name is not Miguel.” Derek says and Scott looks confused. “My name
is Derek Hale.”
Scott’s eyes widened with so much intensity that they looked like bulges just
waiting to pop out.
“Derek Hale... You mean the one from Beacon Hills… that disappeared when his
entire family was burned alive?” Scott asks.
“Yeah, exactly that one. That same night, a girl was also killed in her
apartment.”
“Did you kill her?” Scott asks, fearful, his heart starting to beat faster and
faster, his breathing becoming shallower and his body shaking. His eyes were
starting to wander around the room, unconsciously, lingering in the windows,
his instincts certainly yelling danger!, telling him to escape the fastest he
could but his conscious mind too busy freaking out to process what his
subconscious already did. Derek Hale was a predator, a menace.
Derek nods.
“Why?” Scott asks, his voice nothing more than a whisper.
“She killed my family.”
“Why?”
Derek flashed his eyes blue, let out his claws and opened his mouth, showing
off his growing canines. “Some of us were different.”
At that, Scott’s breathing becomes more erratic and he collapses unto the
floor, one hand coming clutching to his chest. Derek retracts, unsure of what
to do, of what’s going on.
“My pump… medicine… cabinet…” Scott was able to mutter and it only took a
moment before Derek remembered a conversation he and Stiles had in what looked
like several lives ago.
“Scott borrowed me one of his pumps.”
“He has asthma?”
“Yeah. Some of the other kids make fun of him because of it, saying that is why
his father left. But that’s stupid. There’s no problem in having asthma. Just
because you can’t run as much doesn’t make you less of a person and besides,
Scott is great.”
“Why did he borrowed you one of his pumps?”
“He thought it would help with the panic attacks, you know? If I pretend
they’re asthma attacks, maybe they’ll go away if I use a pump.”
They didn’t.
Derek leaves the room, not entirely happy with leaving Scott unguarded, when he
could just scream for help, but he was in trouble. Derek’s werewolf senses were
enough for him to know Scott wasn’t faking, so he slammed the next door’s door
open and rushed towards the bathroom, following the distinct smell of medicine.
When he found the cabinet, he looked for the pump and rushed back into his
apartment, closing the door behind him and quickly handing the pump over to
Scott.
“We never killed anyone. Theynever killed anyone. And not all of us were
werewolves. My mom, my aunt and two of my cousins were human and she killed
them too.”
“What do you want me to do?” Scott interrupted, taking another whiff from his
pump.
“The hunters who took Stiles want revenge for Kate’s death. I’ll spare you the
derange details but, if I go alone, I’m dead and so is Stiles.”
“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO?” Scott shouted, growing impatient and standing up,
revealing a sense of courage Derek would’ve never given him before. Since
they’d met, Derek had only seen him as the dumb kid who drooled upon the
mention of his perfect girlfriend. Apparently he was wrong.
“Turn.”
“What?”
“If we are two, our chances increase. Not by a lot, but higher than before.”
Derek clarified.
“How?”
Derek sighed. “Usually a human is turned by an alpha’s bite.”
“Then do it.”
“I’m not an alpha.” Derek said and Scott looked at him weirdly. Derek sighed.
“There are only two ways to become an alpha. By killing one or by offer. My
father was the alpha of our pack and since he was killed by a human, the status
remained his.”
“So how do I turn?”
Derek tilts his head to his bedroom, moving towards it, not waiting for Scott
to follow him, but he did anyway. He knees beside his bedside table and pushes
it aside, taking out the fake flooring and exposing a hollow compartment. He
took a box out carefully, letting the air fill with his father’s smell,
composed of aftershave, pine tree and wolf fur. Imprinted on the box was a
symbol their family hold so dear it was almost a crest – the triskelion.
Derek opened the box, revealing a syringe. “When two wolves meet, none of them
with a pack, and they decide to travel together, one of them becomes the alpha.
This little bottle contains my father’s blood, the blood of an alpha. If
inserted into your bloodstream, you will turn.”
For a long time, Derek left the box in the dungeons under the burned remains of
his house, but recently he had opened himself to the possibility of, one day,
forming a pack, having a travelling buddy. This was certainly not the way Derek
imagined it happening, and he wasn’t ready to take care of another wolf, of
another life, not in the least. But he had no choice.
“Then do it.” Scott said, walking forward, baring his arm, moving the sleeve of
his shirt up and exposing the skin underneath, lifting his arm towards Derek.
In that moment, Derek realized what had always puzzled him until then. Scott
and Stiles might be very different, but they are ever so ready to put their
lives on the line for the people they love. They were family, something Derek
didn’t have anymore. Something he wanted to get back. Something he hoped he and
Stiles could be one day. And somehow, that thought, that wish, seemed now
nothing more than a long gone fantasy, a silly dream.
“Don’t you want to know the risks?” Derek asked, standing up.
“I want to save Stiles.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “The bite can either kill you or turn you. If you turn,
you will get incredible speed and strength, you won’t need your pump anymore
and you’ll never get sick. But, every full moon, the beast inside you will wake
and you’ll have the need to kill anything in sight. You’ll need an anchor to
keep that beast in control, I can help you with that. Hunters will hunt you
until the end of your days. I can help with that too.”
“Then do it.”
Derek grunted, turning his back on Scott to knee over a shoe lying aimlessly on
the floor, taking its string and standing back up, wrapping it around Scott’s
arm, applying pressure and letting the veins pump out of his skin, visible and
exposed.
“Are you sure?” Derek asked him, looking from the blood rushing through the
veins to look at Scott’s eyes.
When their eyes met, Derek could feel his heart skip, the fear and doubt
poisoning his smell. “JUST DO IT!” He shouted.
Knowing he would probably regret it, but also knowing this was Derek’s best
shot of getting Stiles’ back, alive, he deepened the needle into Scott’s vein,
releasing the alpha’s blood into the mainstream.
---
Scott opens his eyes, closing his hands, testing the way his new body responds
quicker, sitting on the bed and turning his attention to his arms, flexing and
turning them, a stupid wide grin, that some people that weren’t Derek might’ve
found adorable, spread across his face. “Wow, dude.”
Derek snorts, stepping down from the shelve he was sitting on. “Now, if you’re
done checking yourself out, we’re going.”
“I feel faster, stronger. This is awesome.”
Derek ignores him, leaving the bedroom and walking towards the door. Tracing
the scent of a stranger by now would be impossible but, luckily for Derek, he
could pick up Stiles’ scent anywhere if he focused hard enough.
“Where are we going?” Scott asks, dumbfounded.
“Rescuing your best friend.” Derek offers dryly.
“Oh, right. Can I call Allison first?”
“You want to call your girlfriend, now?” Derek asks and yup, this is the Scott
he has come to know in the last couple of months.
“Yeah since we can, you know, die. I would like to at least hear her voice one
last time.” Scott tells him, wearing these darn puppy dog eyes.
Derek sighs. He would’ve gave everything to hear his family’s voice one last
time if offered the chance. “Hurry up.”
“Cool.” Scott lets out. “We can take advantage of the situation and pick up
Stiles’ phone, in case his father calls again.”
“What did you tell him?” Derek asks, following Scott into the next door
apartment, half scared to hear what dumb excuse Scott had fed Stiles’ dad, who
was a sheriff.
“Something Stiles told my mom once. I snuck us into a party and it was supposed
to be a secret, because we were just fifteen, but Lydia, Stiles’ old flame, had
gotten with this major asshole, Jackson, so I had to get him drunk. After it we
went to Stiles’ house, since his dad was taking a double shift at the station.
When my mom called my cell, I was so wasted that Stiles was the one to take the
call. ‘He ate something nasty and now he’s puking his guts out in bathroom.
It’s really gross, there’s little chunks of food on the ceiling that I have no
idea how it ended up there. It’s best to leave him alone right now, or he’ll
damage the phone and puke all over my shirt and he’ll have to buy me new
clothes because this blazer was expensive.’ He didn’t thought that, my mom
being a nurse, would want to help. We both ended up getting grounded for a
month.” Scott said with a shrug, sitting by his computer.
Derek chuckled, because it was gross and visual and totally Stiles. And then he
felt like crying, because the one person he loved more than anything in the
world could be dead by now. Because everything Derek touched turned to ashes.
As the computer started up, Derek leaned against the wall behind Scott,
crossing his arms over his chest, facing the computer screen. Scott turned
around when he was about to log into skype. “Are you going to stand there?”
“Yup.”
“Fine.”
Scott turns to face the screen again, trying to block Derek’s view with his
head, and failing, as he logs into skype and then Derek sees it before Scott
clicks the name, opening a different window. The name taunting him, making fun
of him, because his life was all a big joke.
Allison Argent.
“Allison is an Argent?” He hears himself shout before he can stop himself, the
words blurting out of his mouth as he yanks Scott out of his seat, knocking
down a chair and pinning the beta against the wall.
“What the hell men?” Scott shouts back.
“Answer me!” Derek roars, a glimmer of red sparkling out of Scott’s now yellow
ones, not meaning to use his alpha’s voice and making a mental note to be more
careful about that in the future. His dad had only used it once on him, and he
had hated him for it until the day he died.
“Yes.” Scott answers faintly, looking disoriented for a second. “What’s the
problem with that?” He shouts back.
“Kate was an Argent. The hunters that took Stiles are commanded by an Argent
and you’re dating one!” Derek tells him, enlightenment flashing through Scott’s
eyes as Derek has an idea.
“Call her.” Derek says, pushing Scott back towards the computer.
“What?”
“I’m going to use you as a bargaining chip.” Derek reveals.
“But I’m a werewolf.”
Derek rolls his eyes. “But she doesn’t know that.”
“Oh. Smart.” Scott says, sitting back on the chair and facing the screen, his
fingers hovering over the keyboard. “What do I say?”
Derek grunts. “What do you usually do?”
“Video call.” He says and Derek waves with his hand for Scott to go ahead.
“Right.”
Scott starts the call and a horrible sound spurs out of the columns that make
Derek cringe. Scott almost jumps out of the chair, his hands halfway to cover
his hears when he brings himself to turn down the volume. “Shit, that never
bothered me before.”
Your hearing is heightened. Derek was about to say, but he didn’t know how
someone could notfind that excruciating noise completely maddening, enhanced
hearing or not.
Allison picked up at the third ring. “Hi Scott.”
“Hi baby.”
“Who is your friend?”
Scott looks back, like he had forgotten Derek was there, the sight of Allison
erasing any other thoughts from his grape sized brain.
Derek fought the urge to roll his eyes, approaching the computer screen
wolfishly, leaning over the desk and towards the camera, rubbing his fingers
through Scott neck who shift, uncomfortable under his touch.
“My name is Derek Hale.” Derek informs, showing off his teeth as Allison’s eyes
widen. “I see you know who I am and you know that I can twist your little boy’s
neck with just a twist of my wrist.”
“Don’t worry babe, he’s not going to hurt me.” Scott reassures with a hint of
fear in his voice (and in his smell) that seems to do nothing for Allison.
Derek carves his claws into Scott’s neck, as a waning, that make him cringe and
shout.
“Don’t hurt him!” Allison screams through the columns, her voice steady and
angry, much different from the sweet girl she had been just a few seconds ago.
“When did you became an alpha?” She whispers in confusion.
Scott turns to face Derek. “You’re the alpha?” He asks, missing Allison’s
expression of shock and horror. Derek carves his nails deeper into Scott’s
flesh. “Ouch! What was that for?”
“Now she knows and now Stiles’s going to die and it’s all going to be
yourfault!” Derek shouts.
“What?”
“Hey, I’m not the one that endangered his life!” Scott yells back, shoving
Derek’s claws out of his neck.
“Wait…”
“Don’t you dare!” Derek mutters, grabbing Scott by the collar of his t-shirt
and lifting him up, Scott’s feet hovering over the apartment’s floor.
“Both of you shut up!” Allison yells through the microphone and both Derek and
Scott turn to face the computer screen. “What happened to Stiles?” She asks.
Derek lets Scott fall back on the chair with a thud, the other man releasing a
grunt. “He was abducted by yourpeople! He’s being tortured by you and he’s
nothing but human! And you have the nerve to say we are the monsters?!” Derek
yells, his body shaking.
“Dad would never agree with that.” Allison whispers to herself, shaking her
head.
“Wake up! They’re all the same! You’re all the same.” Derek shouts.
Allison looks back at him with a cold stare. “Oh, we are, aren’t we?” She says.
“They only told me about the so called family business this summer, after I
graduated from high school. They told me about you and your vendetta against
our family, against my aunt. I was actually part of the hunting crew for almost
the entire summer because I loved my aunt. She always let me do all the things
my dad wouldn’t. She took me to buy clothes highly inappropriate for my age and
let me wear enough make up to rival a clown.” Allison chuckles, the tears
obvious in her eyes, and covers her mouth with one hand. “But this one night I
heard a conversation between one of the hunters and my grandfather, Gerard,
talking about how Kate had killed your family at their order, that she had
killed human children and I didn’t knew what to do or what to do believe in
anymore so I just left. And then I found Scott.” Allison’s eyes sparkled. “The
most kind and honest person I ever met, despite being a big duffus.” She says,
choking on a breath. “And now you’re one of them…” She whispers and Derek has
no words because she’s nothing like Kate or any hunter he ever met and, when
their eyes meet through the camera, he sees compassion in her eyes.
“Can you help us?” Scott asks and his voice is hoarse. “Is there some place
they’ve might have taken him?”
Allison nods, cleaning the tears out of her eyes with the back of her hand.
“They have a couple of safe houses. I think I kept a list.” She says, going off
to find it.
Allison finds the list and scans it, sending it to the two werewolves via e-
mail. Going through the various locations, they find that there is actually a
safe house just outside of town and decide to go there immediately.
“I’m going to call my dad and tell him about what is going on. I’m certain he
has no idea of what is happening. He can’t.” Allison whispers, more to herself
than to Derek and Scott.
“Hey, Al.” Scott calls and Allison looks back at him, seemingly lost. “We are
going to make this work.” He tells her with such conviction that even Derek
believes they will, against all odds. Because if they can, then maybe… “I love
you.”
“I love you too.” Allison whispers, kissing him goodbye. “And good luck.”
Scott nods.
“Thank you.” Derek is able to mutter and Allison gives him a weak smile, her
lips motioning a silent ‘I’m sorry’ and then she’s gone, the computer screen
fading to black.
Maybe there are good hunters after all.
---
They are in Derek’s Camaro, driving to the location of the safe house when the
distinct music of Stiles’ cellphone ‘I’m sexy and I know it’ fills the interior
of the sports car. “Who is it?” Derek asks, looking at Scott through the corner
of his eye.
Scott picks the phone out of his pocket and grunts. “His dad.” Scott sighs,
answering the call. “Hey Sheriff Stilinski, how is everything?”
“Everything’s fine, Scott. How’s my son?” Derek hears the gruff sound of the
Sheriff’s voice ask through the sound piece and is remembered of the worst
phone call of his life, tightening his grip around the steering wheel and
trying to focus on the road.
“He’s better but since he kind of spent the entire night in the bathroom
vomiting, now he’s lying down, sleeping like a rock.”
A car honks.
“Are you outside?”
“Hum, no. I mean, I’m at the window. The reception in this building is awful.”
Derek rolls his eyes, gritting his teeth. Idiot.
“Really? Stiles never complains about it.”
“End the call!” Derek says through a muttered whisper.
“Yeah, you know Stiles, never complaining about anything. Oh, look at that, the
oven just went on, have to go. Stiles will call you when he wakes up.” Scott
says, turning off the call.
Derek gives Scott a dirty look.
“What?” Scott asks.
Stiles complains about everything. Besides, it’s nine am, why would the oven
even be on? According to Stiles you don’t know how to cook without turning the
most simple of recipes in the most deadly of dishes. Stiles does the cooking.
He’s supposedly asleep. And the gas work on the building sucks, Stiles only
used it once and the apartment smelled of ashes so much I had to contain myself
not to pick him up and run the hell out of dodge.
“Nothing.” Derek mutters.
---
Derek and Scott are walking carefully through the forest, after leaving the
Camaro by the side of the road and following the dirty path, hoping to avoid
unwanted attention. The later the Argents learn they’re here, the higher chance
they will have not dying and saving Stiles.
“Watch where you step.” Derek advises. “The Argents probably set traps
everywhere.”
Whoosh.
Derek turns around, finding Scott in the middle of the air with a knot tied to
his left foot. “A little help here?” Scott shrugs with an apologetic
expression.
Derek rolls his eyes and growls. “Idiot.” He mutters under his breath and turns
away from Scott, resuming his walk.
“Hey, I heard that!” Scott throws back. “And don’t leave me here.” He yells,
the branch starting to crack under his weight.
“Get yourself down.”
After a few seconds, Derek hears a subtle thud and a moment later Scott is back
behind him, both of them throttling towards the safe house whose high roofs
start peeking through the tree tops.  
A shadow of movement catches Derek’s attention by the perimeter of the house
and he grabs Scott by the shirt, dragging him over to hide behind a tree.
Scott grunts. “Could you warn me before manhandling me?” He asks.
“Shush.” Derek commands, looking over to the two hunters patrolling the house,
which are then joined by a third that Derek recognizes from earlier, when he
first spotted the hunters in town. “They might say something important.”
 “What is all the commotion inside?” Hunter One asks.
“Chris called and somehow he knows we are holding the kid captive. He’s furious
and on his way. We have orders to shoot him on sight.” Hunter Three says,
displeased.
Scott sighs with relief. “It seems Allison was right about her father.”
Yeah, let’s just hope he arrives in time to make a difference.Derek thinks.
“Gerard wants us to kill his son?” Hunter Two asks, mildly shocked.
“Not unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Hunter Three answers with a cringe.
“Honestly, I think he’s gone mad. Lying to Chris to torture some poor kid is
bad enough, but the werewolf killed Gerard’s daughter so I could look the other
way. But I’ve hunted with Chris for years now! He’s my partner. I can’t kill
him.”
“Neither can I.” Hunter Two agrees.
“Shoot for the legs then.” Hunter One says with a shrug, returning to his
patrolling root followed by Two.
Hunter Three stands put, doubt poisoning his scent.
“Who are these people!?” Scott asks, eyes wide, horrified.
Before Derek can answer, a muffled and almost inaudible scream, even for
werewolf ears, but not any less agonizing, fills the air. Stiles.
A shockwave vibrates through Derek’s body, his eyes turning to red, claws
coming out, the beast inside him taking charge, his growl lost in the pained
screams of his partner, the man he loves, feeling something inside of him break
because Stiles doesn’t deserve this. He’s the person most deserving of love
Derek has ever known and Derek has caused him nothing but pain.
“Let’s go.” Derek mutters, walking towards the front of the house, spotting
another two hunters protecting its entrance.
Derek steps forward and feels Scott’s hand pulling him back. When he faces him,
he sees a man barely capable of holding himself together.
“I know you want to kill them all, tear this house apart and rip them apart
with it, limb by limb, make them suffer for what they did to Stiles, for what
they are doing to Stiles. But we can’t, Derek. We are the good guys. We can’t
do this.” Scott tells him, his eyes facing the claws on his fingers, speaking
more to himself than to the wolf in front of him.
“We’re not killers.” Derek agrees, pushing the memory of feeling Kate’s life on
his hands, the rush he felt when the life of the woman that killed his entire
family and destroyed his life left her body, when her heart stood still and the
heat started fading from the lifeless corpse. And then came the guilt and the
sorrow and the self-hatred.
If it was up to Derek, Scott would never feel like that. “We’re not killers.”
He repeated.
“So, how are we not killing them?” Scott asked.
“Beau Geste.” Derek whispers with a smirk, remembering the days when he and
Laura would hide in the forest and scare off campers. Of course their father
would always ground them afterwards.
“The what now?”
“The Beau Geste Effect.” Derek clarifies, looking at Scott and finding himself
faced with a blank stare, grunting. “If they modulate their howls with a rapid
shift in tone, two wolves can sound like twenty.”
“Oh. That will scare them off.”
Duh.
“So, we’ll move towards opposite directions and do it. Remember, change the
tone of your howls really quickly or it won’t work and Stiles will be dead and,
without the element of surprise, so will us.”
Scott rolls his eyes, frustrated. “I know, Derek. I’m not stupid, I know what’s
at stake here.”
Derek chooses not to answer that, starting to howl at the skies, moving back
and forth through the forest, changing his tone quickly, Scott doing the same
thing, and within a couple of minutes the hunters in the outside of the house
are in a frantic panic, clearly thinking they’re outnumbered and surrounded by
vengeful werewolves, fleeing to their cars, running away with their guns
between their legs.
Derek and Scott meet again by the entrance of the house. “That was so cool,
man.” Scott shouts, ecstatic.
Derek looks at the door. “There are still hunters inside.” He says and as
quickly as Scott was all enthusiasm and excitement, he’s quiet and wary.
Derek listens carefully, only hearing heartbeats in the basement of the house.
“Follow behind me and remember, move slowly and with caution.” He advises. Just
because there are no hunters waiting for them, it doesn’t mean it’s safe.
Scott grunts but does as he’s ordered.
Derek turns the doorknob, stepping into the empty hall and looking around. “Now
to find the door leading towards the basement.”
“I’ll start on this side.” Scott says, opening the door exactly by his right.
“No!” Derek shouts but it’s useless, Scott’s already turning the doorknob and
Derek hears a mortal click. “Get out of the way!” He yells as the blast is
heard, licks of fire stretching out of the room and giving Scott gentle burning
caresses as he is propelled backwards, hitting the ground with a yelp.
Derek stomps backwards, stumbling and falling, his back hitting the wall. The
smell of ashes and burned skin fill the hallway, poising the air and Derek
can’t breathe, the scent of death and destruction taking cover under his skin.
Derek feels a hint of pain in his arms, but it’s not enough. It was never
enough. He feels lost and he wants to die just to ease the pain, just a little
bit.
His back slides down across the wall, his lungs rejecting the infected air.
Unable to breath, Derek welcomes death as a gift because at least he’ll not be
alone anymore. Because he’s alone. So alone. His family’s gone. Stiles is gone.
“Derek.”
Stiles.
“Derek.” Derek hears again and it’s just a muffled whisper, low and weak,
stripped of strength, hope or the electrifying and contagious energy so
characteristic of Stiles, but it’s still there, Stiles is still fighting.
Derek forces his eyes opens, only realizing his body was shaking when it stops.
He removes the arms covering his head, trying to remember when he did that. He
feels his cheeks wet, his eyes sore and so he cleans the tears away with the
back of his hand, without even knowing he had been crying.
“Stiles.” Derek whispers as he gets up.
“Derek.” Scott mutters in pain, still lying down on the floor.
Derek walks over to Scott’s body, his skin darkened by the ashes, his clothes
still emanating smoke, burnt from the flames, his clothes and skin filled with
holes. Derek kneels beside him and removes one of the round little objects
incrusted in Scott’s skin, who grunts upon its removal.
Derek sighs of relief, the foreign objects nothing more than small chunks of
lead.
Derek pats Scott on the arm, ignoring his grunts of pain. “Remove them and
you’ll heal.” He says, standing back up and walking over to each door, trying
to trace Stiles’ scent from the ashes, the burnt flesh, the mountain ash,
wolfsbane and blood choking the air. When he stands by the third door, the
sweetest hint of cinnamon, vanilla and mint hit him, bringing back so many
memories that Derek founds his eyes drowned in tears once again, feeling a knot
in his chest when he realizes this is also the room that smells more like
blood, fresh blood coupled with Stiles’ scent.
Derek growls as his body shakes with the transformation, the anger he feels
inside building up, his bones shifting and turning as he kicks the door,
sending it flying through the air. Let the hunters know the big bad wolf is
coming, let them tremble in fear.
As soon as Derek steps into the basement, gunfire rains down on him and Derek
jumps through the flight of stairs, kicking one of the hunters right in the
nose, a crack that makes the second hunter cringe and hurry up the stairs
echoes loudly through the basement.
Derek turns to Gerard that is now hiding behind a glass wall, but Derek almost
doesn’t acknowledge the older man, his eyes widening, his heart shattering and
his stomach writhing, like he’s going to throw up his guts out at any second
when his eyes find him, the barrel of a shot gun pointing at its temple.
Stiles.
Derek feels all the anger leaving his body as he sees Stiles, hands and feet
tied with steel cuffs, his upper body hanging mid hair from the wall. Bare
chest revealing the atrocities that the Argents – no, that Gerard had done to
him, his torso filled with open wounds, his chest covered in dry blood and
dirt, fresh blood pouring down unto his jeans, dyed red, and dripping into the
floor.
Stiles’ head lifts up and he releases a strangled grunt, like that small
movement took all the strength he had left, his face covered in bruises, dark
circles beneath his eyes, so dark Derek thinks they’re incrusted into his skin.
Derek realizes he’s come inside the glass tomb when Stiles looks at him through
half-closed eye lids, his eyes stripped of all the light and the hope they used
to hold.
“Derek…” He whispers, presenting Derek with a small smile that, if anything,
made him want to cry more. “You found me.” Stiles says with a dry voice,
coughing.
“Did you ever doubt I would?” Derek whispered, his voice tainted by the tears
wanting to crawl their way out of his eyes.
Gerard laughs. “What a lovely reunion.” He says. “Now, it’s time to say goodbye
to your lover boy.”
Derek growls, moving forward and tackling Gerard against the wall, grabbing the
shot gun and pulling it away from Stiles as it fires, shattering the glass
coffin and removing the gun from beneath the old man’s clutches.
Derek steps back, pointing the gun at the despicable old man.
“Kill me.” Gerard yearns with a sick smirk on his face. “KILL ME!” He shouts
again, throwing a maniac laugh. “Kill me like you killed my daughter. That
lying bitch! When I discovered you two were dating, I was so mad I wanted to
kill her myself. Did I ever told you how I found out? We monitor video cameras
and, since we knew Beacon Hills was home to a pack, the Hales, you kept a close
eye. Of course no one really knew how you all looked like, only that you owned
a house in the woods and since you kept out of trouble, we didn’t care that
much. But then a hunter spotted my daughter with a werewolf, your eyes flashing
at the camera so we decided to investigate, and my daughter was always with a
man, of course he always wore sunglasses in all the other photos and videos.”
“SHUT UP!” Derek shouted and Gerard laughed again.
“It hurts hearing the truth, doesn’t it? I mean, your family was always so
careful, erasing their data from everywhere, having no pictures on record,
hiding the true location of their house. Don’t letting anyone know you all that
well. Most people on that god forsaken town didn’t even know that well how you
all looked like. Really smart. And then you go ahead and blow it up. How was
it, Derek? Left in a hurry and couldn’t be bothered to go back for the
sunglasses? It was only one time, right? What could go wrong?”
“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” Derek yelled, gripping his hand tighter around the
gun, his finger glued to the trigger, stepping closer to the vile man.
“As you wish. Well, after that, I gave her a choice, an opportunity to redeem
herself. I mean, she’s only human and she wasdaughter. I’m a fair man, but even
then, she spared yourlife. Choose you over family, her own blood and every day
I regret not being the one to feel her life being drained out of her body.”
Gerard stood up. “Now kill me.”
“No.”
If he shoot Gerard, he would be a monster, a monster like Gerard was, a monster
Stiles didn’t believe he was, so Derek let lowered the gun, because you do have
a choice. Allison decided not become a hunter, his family decided not to be
monsters, so he can decide not to pull the trigger.
“If you don’t, I’ll kill him.” Gerard said, taking a knife out of his pocket
and going towards Stiles’ neck.
Derek pointed the gun to one of his arms, but before he could pull the trigger,
another shot was heard, cutting through the air and for a split second, Derek
thought how stupid he had been to trust a hunter, but then Gerard’s hand gave
way of the knife, the man falling on the floor with a bullet hole still smoking
from the middle of his head.
Derek let the shot gun fall, propelling his body towards Stiles and breaking
the cuffs, holding Stiles’ weight as he fell, his hands wrapping around Derek’s
neck.
“Truthfully, the glass coffin gave me pause.” Stiles whispered in his ear as he
rubbed his face along Derek’s jaw, Derek feeling the warmth of Stiles’ skin
against his stubble, rolling his eyes and squeezing his arms around Stiles,’
thankful to be able to hold him in his arms again, to feel his heat and his
skin, to hear his heartbeat and his voice. “Ouch.” Stiles whines.
“Sorry.” Derek says, loosening his grip. “That will teach you not to make a
joke out of everything.” He says, lifting Stiles up.
“If I don’t, I think this would all crush me.” Stiles lets out, Derek feeling
the tears crippling his voice.
“Then make another one.” Derek tells him as he walks past Chris, giving him a
nod and tilting his head towards the camera in a corner of the room, pointing
at the fallen old man and the shattered glass. Chris nods, barely acknowledging
him and Derek climbs back up the stairs.
“I guess bondage is totally out of our sex kinks.” Stiles says with a muffled
voice.
“Definitely.” And with that, Stiles starts crying, tear after tear falling
across his face and landing into Derek’s shirt, letting himself fall apart into
his shoulder, the tears washing over his pain. “You’re safe here.” Derek
reassures.
Chapter End Notes
     The next chapter is going to be a small one, to wrap up this story.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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