It wasn't meant to end this way. They had a plan. They were meant to win.
Stiles had found the fatal flaw the Alpha's had. He had stayed out of the fight so he wouldn't get hurt. He was supposed to be safe.
But as branches scratch Derek's arms as he runs. Branches snap beneath Scott's feet. Isaac biting close on their heels. But it still wasn't enough. They were still too slow.
At times like this the supernatural abilities Derek possessed felt more like a curse. He could hear it. Could hear Stiles heart beating wildly as he fought for breath. Could hear his futile struggles against the coil of rope around his neck. Faster. Why can't he run faster.
"Derek!" through the rush of wind around him, above Stiles slowing heart beat. Derek heard his name. Derek heard Stiles strangled whisper…of his name. Faster. He needed to run faster.
As the three of them burst in the room. They are greeted by silence.
Silence. Stiles was never silent.
Scott falls to his knees and Isaac slumps against the door. Derek stumbles forward.
Grief masks his senses, he can't see or smell a trace of Stiles' attacker…of…of Stiles' murderer.
He is too young. Too full of energy to be so still. Fumbling hands reach out and touch his cheek. His hazel eyes shouldn't be that empty. Stiles was the pinnacle of life, a human ball of optimism. Demons cower when a good man goes to war…what happens when a good man falls?
Unshed tears blind his vision and Derek can't breathe. Why doesn't he wake up? Why couldn't Derek have this one person, who wouldn't leave him…why did Stiles have to die?
"Derek…Derek we must be able to do something?' the grief in Scott's voice was thick, his false hope, denial of what was happening stark. All Derek could do was shake his head. 'No! I won't-I can't-He's not dead. I-I mean, come on, this is Stiles. He survived an Alpha holding him hostage…he can't-he can't just die! Derek. Stiles wouldn't just-THERE HAS TO BE SOMETHING!"
"Scott…Listen. He-he's gone." Isaac was calm as he always was. But Derek saw the tremor in his hand and he placed a hand on Scott's shoulder.
"You don't understand. He can't be dead. He just can't-he's my best friend. I can't lose him!"
Bitterness filled Derek. Scott was right. He can't be dead. Derek still needed him.
He moved his hand from Stiles pale cheek and gently closed his eyelids. The glazed over look in them was too much. Why was he so still?
"We-I will call his Dad. He needs to know." Isaac knew Stiles well. Their friendship wasn't as strong as some of the others the two had forged but it was hard not to grow attached to people who fight beside you. But right now, Isaac had to be the voice of reason. Had to try and hold the two people he relied on the most together.
"He's not dead! There is nothing to report…this…it has to all be a bad dream! This-It's not-can't be happening!"
Unforeseen rage coursed through Derek. He was barely managing to hold it together and Scott was…was acting like a child. Without fully registering what he was doing Derek grabbed Scott by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the cabin's wall hard enough to make the whole hut shake.
"Shut. Up. Scott. Just…just stop. Please…stop." The outburst drained whatever energy Derek had, had within him. The fist he had made in Scott's collar loosened as he collapsed forward and let the tears in his eyes fall. He had-did love that stupid, hyperactive boy. He loved Stiles.
Too Derek's surprise instead of fighting or shouting, Scott merely wrapped his arms around Derek's shaking body and he too succumbed to his grief. Both of them like lost children clinging to their mother. Both slowly releasing the gravity of losing Stiles.
The rest was a blur. Derek didn't know if he had blanked out or suppressed the memories deep within him, but when Stiles' father arrived he ran in and upon sight of Stiles lifeless form…that memory would haunt Derek. Whatever shards of himself Derek had gathered together threatened to break when a gut wrenching sob that escaped the Sheriff's mouth.
Shaking hands reached out to his child. Denials and curses flooded from his lips. Why had God taken his child? Why Stiles? Why? Looking on stone set in Derek's heart. He was too late to save Stiles but he wasn't going to let his killers live. The Alpha's would pay.
Now, here he was on his knees. Blooded, broken, bruised. Eyelids heavy. Heartbeat slowing. He was dying. He had won, but he was dying.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Isaac picking Scott up. Both battered but alive. They had a reason to carry on. Derek now had his revenge. He was empty.
He saw them rushing over to him. Yet when they shook him, he felt nothing. He let his eyes close.
Then a blinding light woke him. A surreal warmth enveloped him. And amongst the white, stood the one person he needed. The one person who he would give everything for but hadn't had the chance. Stiles.
"You came."
Even in his bleariness, Derek saw the tears in Stiles eyes. Calloused, scarred hands reached out and touched his cheek. Cheeks filled with warmth and colour, filled with life.
"You came."
"Of course, you stupid Sourwolf, of course I came."