A/N: Ahhh idek man… I just had this idea for some reason in my mind and I couldn't get it out :)

Sooo here it is, hope you enjoy it!

"You're late, sour wolf"

As soon as Derek finds out that Stiles has been beaten the crap out of him, he's sprinting – already fully transformed (not that he's quite aware of that) - out of… somewhere – he can't even remember by now where the hell he was when Scott told him what had happened – as fast as he humanly (inhumanly) can. He can't remember much… just the blurring of the trees as he rushes through the forest, and some strangers' houses he doesn't recognize, all the colors of the places surrounding him mixed together in the rush of getting to his destination. But the next thing he does remember is being in front of the Stilinski's household, going to stand in front of Stile's window. In another blur, he's taking a few steps back and jumping, in through the window.

He crouches as he lands to soften the fall, and then slowly standing up straight, looking around the dark room for the other boy. As he is turning his head right, he's a little disconcerted to find Stiles standing there, looking at him. Just… standing there, not moving.

"Stiles" Derek says as he steps forwards. He's at a foot from the boy when he reaches out and grabs his chin and tilts it up – gently, of course… he doesn't want to cause him more pain that he has already been through - a little to get a better look of his face. The darkness in the room doesn't quite allow him to see much, even with his werewolf heightened sense of sight, so he drops his hand, turns left and leaps to the door to switch on the lights, and in no time he's standing again in front of Stiles.

The younger boy has his face turned the opposite side a little, until Derek takes hold of his chin again and slowly turns his head to fully see the damage. As he takes in every single injury, he takes a deep breath through his nose. The huge gash that went from his cheekbone to his hairline, becoming narrower as it did; and his lower lip slit, almost half of it was bruised, with blood already drying off (though it was clear that with one simple too quick movement could make his lip gash again). And just below his left eye, a bruise was already clearly forming.

The anger that surged through Derek was inexplicable. "What the hell happened to you?" He says through gritted teeth, as he lowers his hand forcefully again, clenching his fists, and staring at Stiles in the eyes.

Stiles' eyes narrow only for a fraction of a second before he says, "fell on the street on my way here…" and at this is Derek's time to narrow his eyes, before the shorter boy finishes, anger visibly noticed in his voice, "what the fuck do you think happened, genius? I got beat the crap out of me!"

To say the least, the werewolf is a little taken aback with Stiles' response, him not being such a violent person. Before he can keep asking questions, Stiles interferes again, with an arched eyebrow and a quite chilling smirk on his lips, "I know you're mad, but don't wolf out in front of me Derek, it's rude, honey…"

If Derek wasn't taken aback before, he surely is now. Stiles never talks like that. Yes, he constantly makes witty, sarcastic remarks, but never with this tone. Derek transforms slowly back to human and lets the comment pass, and asks, "Who the hell did this to you?" his tone growing angrier – if possible – as he grabs Stiles' jaw again – yet once more being careful not to cause him more pain.

Stiles breaks from Derek's hold, turning away and walks a few steps away from the werewolf, only to turn back to face him again. "Oh, baby, as much as I would love to see you deal with it with your whole drama-queen-entrances and all… you don't have to worry about them… they've been taken care of…" And there is the devilish smirk again.

Only then did Derek realize that Stiles had a baseball bat on his right hand. A bloodied baseball bat on his right hand… and a huge dark-red stain of blood on the hoodie he was wearing. His hands had a faint trail of it, too, as if the boy had cleaned his hands to get rid of most of it, but not fully.

Derek frowns. But Stiles is not capable, is he? No, it isn't even a question. He is not capable of doing such morbid thing. But still, it doesn't stop Derek from going on, "You mean you-"

He doesn't get to finish the question before a maniacal laugh fills the air and Stiles answers with a huge smile on his face "yes, Derek, I did".

Derek's eyes widen at the response and looks completely taken aback. They probably are talking about two different things, right? Stiles is not able to kill someone, even less in such a merciless, painful way. Derek frowns and shakes his head slightly, trying to get rid of the horrid image that is forming in his head. "I don't-" he closes his eyes with force, the image not leaving "What did you do?" And he knows that if they were talking about the same thing that he will regret having ask this question so much.

Stiles chuckles. "You want the graphics, wolf boy?"

Wolf boy? Derek remained silent, not quite knowing what to do.

"Well, if you insist…" Stiles smirk never left his face "They beat the crap out of me. One, two, three, four, five kicks on the ribs… then, as I stand up, six punches on the face." The anger in Derek growing with every word, as his fists tighten even more, strongly enough to draw blood.

Stiles frowns with mocked hurt as he continues, his voice purposely breaking "I shouted so hard for them to just stop but they didn't listen… they kept hitting me over and over again and it hurt like a bitch, Derek." His face comes back to normal in less than a second, and it seems as if there is no light in his eyes anymore. Derek's face is crumbled in disgust as the image of the attack forms before his eyes. "Then everything goes black… but I keep feeling kicks on my back, on my chest, my stomach, everywhere… probably passed out by then but that didn't keep them from going on hitting me, I bet." Anger is now in both of their eyes.

Derek steps forwards a little, his face a little more sympathetic, but still obviously enraged. "Stiles…" His voice low.

"Don't worry… like I said… they've been taken care of" And there's the smile again, which, if Derek is completely honest, it gives him chills. "When they hit me enough to leave me unconscious, they turned their backs to me and started walking away… big mistake" and he laughs "One of them had a bat…" He raises the metal bat he has on his hand a little "and he threw it at me… they didn't even realize I was awake and standing with the bat in my hands before it was too late… for them." Stiles takes a step closer to Derek. "There were two of them… I went for the one to the left first, the one with the bat…" another step closer. "He was easy, just a swing to the head and he was down, but that would have been too easy now, wouldn't it have been? So I did hit him, let him fall to the floor and look up at me as I swung the bat again… HA! The last thing the fucker saw…" another step closer. "Of course the second dude turned around and it wasn't as easy. He tried to defend himself… HA! Idiot. After various smacks with this-" he gestures to the bat "and he's down too. It's a shame they were so freaking weak… would have loved to have a little more fun them" And he sighs in fake disappointment, taking one last step forward to stand right in front of Derek.

The look of disgust only increased on Derek's face as Stiles continued the story. His anger left his face and was replaced with more repulsion. He started transforming again when Stiles begun telling what happened, but he was morphing back to human on the second part. Something was definitely wrong. "You're not Stiles. Who the hell are you?" He yells at his face as ire comes surfing right back up.

"What are you talking about, honey? Of course I'm Stiles… only I decided to speak up for the crap people gave me." Stiles says in a passive tone.

Derek shakes his head as he looks down at the boy – if he is even considered that anymore. "I'm getting Argent." He states and is at the window frame, ready to jump when Stiles calls back.

"Do as you like… but…" His voice has a dark manner, and it is raspy, and not rather… human.

Derek turns his head to look back at Stiles, only to find that the boy hasn't moved from where he was – standing in the middle of his room, looking at the window, his head hooded, shadowing great part of his face, leaning slightly on the metal bar, looking down. He slowly lifts his head and Derek can see that instead of the golden brown eyes, they are coal black, not any other color present. The light is not clearly gone from his expression and Derek is sure he has never been more afraid before – and that's saying something. An even bigger grin appeared on Stiles' face before he finished:

"… you're late, sour wolf"

A/N: I hope you enjoy!

Thank you so much for reading :)