What do I do when my demons come and get me?


Stiles wandered – or rather, lurked – through the forest, trying to find his way in the most silent way he could. But with Stiles being not the most graceful person on the planet, his lurking looked like something from a cartoon and he kept walking on branches that made a loud snapping sound, to which Stiles flinched.

Man, he really needed to work on his stalking techniques. Maybe there was some kind of book on that, like Stalking Quietly 101. Although that would be kind of an opening to real life stalkers, so maybe it didn't exist after all. He'd have to ask Scott how he did it – or better yet, with Derek being the number one creeper in town, maybe he could ask him. If only Derek ever came within twenty feet –

"Stiles," a voice suddenly said, making him jump high up in the air, arms flailing about. Well that was great, just fucking great. Not even this was something he could do well, apparently.

"Jesus, why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" he said with a hand on his chest as he walked through some bushes.

He entered a clearing where everyone in Scott's pack was present; when he saw Allison next to Isaac, and Lydia next to Aiden, he had to bite his cheek from not swearing (although he could not hold back the wince). Not only had he just been busted trying to listen in on a pack meeting, but apparently he was the only human not wanted there. He wasn't stupid – far from it – so it was as if everyone suddenly screamed at him to go away.

A loud sigh snapped him out of it. "What are you doing here, Stiles?" Of course it was Derek who spoke; it was always he who was fed up with Stiles' shit, no matter if he was an alpha or not.

"Exercise. I recently learned it's good for the heart, and I really don't want to deal with anything later – "

"Stiles," Derek said through gritted teeth, still not looking at him.

"My name sure is easy on the lips. If you say it fast enough more than ten times in a row – well, I'm all for no spoilers so just try it sometime, it'll be worth it." When nobody said anything, he pressed his lips together – hard – before licking them, and started to wobble his head back and forth, tapping his fingers on his thigh.

He probably shouldn't have skipped his last Adderall in favor of going out alone in the woods. At night. When his father was working. With some creepy ass demon cult-thingy on the loose. And with nobody to protect him.

Okay, so maybe Stiles had plans with faults in them just as much as the next guy – or werewolf.

Everyone was staring at him like he was a lunatic. Crap. Had he been speaking out loud again? His brain worked too fast for him to manage.

He grinned a sheepish grin at them and gave a small shrug.

"What are you doing here Stiles?" It was Scott who spoke this time, repeating Derek's question, and his voice was so serious Stiles forced himself to look at him, and as he did his grin washed off his face immediately.

"Nothing, apparently." He almost cringed at the pathetic sound of his own voice and kept watching Scott, which was why he didn't miss the small move Scott did towards him, and the indication of a headshake Isaac and Derek did at the same time. It only took seconds after that for Stiles to figure it out.

"Are you serious right now?! You think I'M a threat?" Everybody kept still, and he took the silence as confirmation. He nodded – a small movement, but with almost everyone present being a werewolf he knew they saw it – and decided to leave, but stopped after a few steps and angled his head towards the pack. "If anyone dies tonight, you know where to find me." He paused for a short moment, and continued in a quieter voice, "It's always my fault when somebody dies anyway."

Before he turned his head, he saw someone make a movement but he stopped caring when they started thinking of him as a murderer. Sure, the thought had graced his mind more than a few times in the past week, and the numbers on the board and the key was still a puzzle to him, but he had hoped his friends – or who he stupidly wished were his friends – would tell him he was being silly. Just being his regular goofy personality with some crazy idea that he was maybe murdering people, or at least calling the shots on who should die.

Feeling broken, he left the clearing with a big lump in his throat he always got when he thought about his mother's death. He swallowed, refused to give in to the tears until he knew he was out of hearing range from the wolves; when he reached his car, he was unable to get in because of his violently shaking hands so he sat down next to it and tried to remember how to breathe. He put up his knees, flung his arms around them and put his head in between his legs, hoping it would help, but knowing he could only wait it out.

It was in that position Derek found him less than a minute later, with tears on the verge of spilling from Stiles' eyes. Derek crouched down in front of him and looked at him so intense; Stiles did what he always did when he was uncomfortable.

"Are – you – going – to – kiss – me?" he asked in between breaths; Derek stared at him like he was behaving even stranger than he usually did – which, to be honest, he really were, and that's saying something.

"Am I – what?"

"Hello, I'm – mister – funny. A Joke." He shook his head. Inside his mind, he thought about the fact that Derek probably didn't see the funny in what he'd said because it had just been between him and Lydia, so he made a mental note to explain it on a sunny day.

With less oxygen in his brain than normally, his mind didn't seem to cooperate with his mouth, which was probably why he suddenly said, "It was my fault my mom died," and had to try even harder to continue breathing because the pain in his chest increased.

Fortunately, Derek seemed to ignore what Stiles had said and furrowed his brows a little, maybe out of concern; maybe because he wasn't sure Stiles was sane. "You need to breathe, deep breaths in your nose, and release it all through your mouth."

"How – "

"In," Derek said as he slowly closed his hand over Stiles mouth, forcing him to breathe through his nose. He did as Derek instructed, and tried not to think about how good his hand smelled, or how surprisingly soft it was.

"And out." Derek moved his hand from Stiles' mouth and used it to pinch Stiles' nose.

Stiles thought about the weirdness level of the situation and came to the conclusion that he was dreaming because there was no way that a real universe existed where Derek was this close to him, and actually being nice and treating him as a human being and not a punching bag.

Derek continued to help Stiles breathe until he had calmed down completely, at which point it was just the two of them being painfully close to each other with nothing to say. As Stiles tried to remember how to speak he made the mistake of meeting Derek's eyes – and was lost. He cursed himself, and thought, damn, just when I thought I might be over the whole dark and brooding type.

"Soooooo, thanks dude," Stiles said after a few more moments of awkward silence. He gave Derek a fist bump on his shoulder; Derek rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, Scott and I are going to explain everything to you."

He helped Stiles get up before he started walking back towards the clearing; Stiles waited a bit before he followed, and he thought about how ridiculous his life had become since the werewolves had entered it and how he really hoped he wasn't the one ordering people who to kill.

As he walked in the direction Derek had gone, a laugh filled the forest – one who made a chill go down Stiles' spine – but when he turned around to see if anyone was there, all he could see was darkness; he figured his head was playing a prank on him so he shrugged and vanished deeper into the forest.

When he was gone, a shadow appeared, looking in the direction he had taken.

"Soon."


A/N: First time writing Sterek (and Teen Wolf), so any and all feeback is appreciated! :) And also, I MIGHT continue this, so if you're interested, please follow b/c it probably will happen :)