I don't know where this came from. I was watching Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'Hoole, when suddenly I had this image of Stiles in chains.
Derek should be an Alpha forever.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Teen Wolf and it's characters.
It was dark and raining and they were in the middle of the forest at some stone structure, that Derek never seen before anywhere in Beacon Hills. There were eight massive pillars forming an about teen feet radius, stone floored circle. Derek was chained to two of those pillars, his bounds laced with wolfsbane, making him unable to gather enough strength to free himself. The chains were thick and heavy, about twice the size of the ones Stiles used to restrain Scott and other wolves on full moons with. It looked like he wouldn't be able to get out of them even if he wasn't weakened by the poison, but he tried anyway. Not for himself. Derek gritted his teeth and focused on his main concern.
In the middle of the circle were two smaller pillars, where Stiles was chained as well. He was slumped on his knees, arms held above his head, bare chested and unconscious. Derek wasn't sure how long they were here, but they both were completely drenched. And if Derek got slightly chilled, then for Stiles it was certainly worse.
There was movement to his left and he turned his head in that direction. Two figures entered the circle. A man and a woman. The man stopped a couple steps away, while the woman walked close to the boy. Derek snarled at them, straining against his bounds.
The pair showed up at Beacon Hills as newlyweds touring the country, searching for rare things. Surprisingly, or really (who was he kidding? that boy can find trouble even between his room's door and bed) not, they set their sights on Stiles. On his Spark. His soul.
The man smirked at the werewolf, confident in the knowledge, that he was trapped and unable to do anything to help. He smirked even wider as the woman started chanting.
Derek fought against his restraints furiously, the chains digging in and wolfsbane burning his skin. He had to get out. If not, Stiles was going to-
Stiles stirred, lifting his head slightly a second before the woman shoved her hand into his chest. The boy threw his head back and screamed. Soul deep, blood freezing, pained scream, that echoed through the forest and possibly was heard by entire Beacon Hills.
Derek's roar of rage joined in a second later. He let the wolf take over, felt himself transform. He pulled at the chains, his muscles tense and bulging as his arms grew in size, covered in black fur. The fangs huge and sharp against his lips pulled back in a snarl. The claws thicker and even sharper, than usual. His eyes burning red, promising blood and death. The man took a step back, eyes huge in fear as Derek tugged at his chains and ripped them off. The werewolf didn't waste time, he took a swipe at the man, practically decapitating him. Less than second later he wrenched the woman off of Stiles and threw her at the pillar with all the strength he could muster. The sound of breaking bones was very satisfying. Then he turned to the boy.
Stiles stopped screaming the second the woman was off him. He was now slumped against his bounds, breathing hard. Apparently still conscious.
Derek growled worriedly, nosing at his temple. Stiles whimpered in response. Slowly and carefully, the werewolf broke the chains holding the boy and gathered the limp body against his furry own. Stiles was icy cold to the touch and shivering badly from the cold or the trauma, Derek wasn't sure, but definitely not from fear. As if.
"Scott will be so jealous," Stiles whispered and smiled up at him, burying deeper into the warmth of the werewolf, fisting a handful of fur gently.
Derek rolled his eyes, griping the boy more securely and headed home.