I wasn't sure what made me do it. Well, that's a lie. I do know. I did it because he was so, so attractive and I swear he was flirting back and I swear when I looked up he was always watching me and I swear I heard his heartbeat speed up when I brushed past him closely - but maybe that was just mine.
But shit. This isn't what I expected. I had been wrong - really wrong, apparently.
As the meeting started to wind down, I excused myself to the bathroom. It was there that I stood for fifteen minutes, ear pressed against the door as I listened to the pack leave one by one. Isaac and Scott were the first to go, muttering something about tutoring. With Scott gone, Allison had no reason to hang around. Erica and Boyd left next, flirting and giggling.
Laura and Cora took the longest to leave. They were teasing Derek about something, but I couldn't quite hear what it was. Finally, I heard Derek growling at them to "Get the hell out before I rip your throats out."
I opened the door a minute later, walking out casually. "Everyone left already?" I asked, trying to sound surprised.
Derek looked at me over his shoulder and rolled his eyes. "Like you couldn't hear that. You may not be a wolf, but you're not deaf."
I smirked at him but said nothing. I could feel my heart beating quickly. I knew he was aware of it too, by the way he was watching me carefully.
"You didn't miss anything," he said, finally standing up from the table. "You're free to go at anytime."
Though the words sounded somewhat harsh, he was looking at me so intensely.
So I did it. I had been planning it for weeks, now. I was sick of the electric feeling I got when his hand brushed against mine, and the eyes. Oh god, the eyes. I wanted him to be mine.
I stepped forward, rocked on the balls of my feet, then moved forward towards his lips.
In my defense, it was my first kiss. So when our teeth met messily and I was almost positive he bit my lip I played it off as first-kiss messiness in my head.
And then he was kissing me, and oh my god, it was amazing. I shivered against him, wanting to make out with him forever. My fingers tangled through his hair and I swear I heard him moan.
Then he pushed me against the wall, one hand at my throat and one firmly on my chest, holding me there. He looked pissed. Shit.
"For fucks sake, Stiles." He growled. "What in gods name do you think you're doing?!"
I froze, seriously unsure of what to do. I swear he had kissed me back. I swear he had wanted this too.
"Jesus Christ," he swore, spitting away from me. "No, no way. I do not want you. At all."
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. I wanted to disappear. I wanted the ground to swallow me up and never return me.
"Are you stupid?" He growled, pushing me harder against the wall. "You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?"
I swallowed. "Derek, I'm sorry. I'll go," I felt my eyes filling with tears. Dammit, not now. This was not okay. Fuck. Fuck me.
He let go of me, cursing again. "Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?"
I was leaving, though. I didn't need to hear anymore. He had made his point pretty damn clear.
I remember shutting the door behind me, stumbling over the welcome mat, and then I started running. My keys, I recalled, were on the kitchen counter. Of no use to me now.
I ran quickly, surprising myself. I was clumsy, though. That was the fault of the tears that clouded my vision, though. Fuck. What the hell was I thinking?
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
I kept running.
I wasn't sure how long it had been. My lungs burned in my chest and my breath came out in painful heaves. I stumbled over a fallen tree and flew across several feet before sliding painfully across the forest floor. I cursed, sitting up. I had scraped my palms; streaks of blood lined my hands.
It wasn't until then, as I scooted to the base of a nearby tree, that I realized how tired I was. I could barely breathe. Dammit.
I had never considered what would happen if Derek hadn't felt the same way - I was so sure that he had felt that way. But the amount of tears surprised me. I knew I liked him, a lot. But I couldn't have imagined the pain of his words.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you? You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
My phone was vibrating in my pocket. I cursed and fumbled to pull it out of my pocket.
The front screen was cracked, probably from falling. I was still able to see that I had four missed calls and six texts. I threw it as hard as I could away from me but it didn't go far. I watched it crash against the trees and break completely.
I sat there and cried for I don't know how long.
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
I was suddenly aware of being watched. Derek was here.
I cursed through my sobs. "Just leave me alone. I got your point."
There was no answer, but I knew he was still there. I could smell the distinct werewolf smell.
"Fuck off, Derek, please," I said, standing shakily.
I started walking, trying to find my way back to civilization. I heard the unmistakable sound of dead branches crunching beneath feet behind me.
I spun around just in time to see the face of a man I hadn't seen before. His eyes glowed an unmistakable gold of a wolf. I opened my mouth to scream, but my attempts were met with a single blow to the head. I blacked out immediately.
*Derek POV*
Fuck. Fuck. What in fucks sake had I done? Fuck.
No. It was the right thing to do. I had to do it. To protect him...from myself. From other wolves and from this damned life. I may have been a bit too harsh, but Stiles was a strong kid. A kid, I reminded myself. He's only sixteen. There's eight whole years between us. It wouldn't work.
For the first half of the hour after he had left the room, his eyes full of tears, I had stared at the door hoping he would comeback. I was hoping he'd come in here and make me listen to him. Or even hit me. I wanted him to do anything to get the scene of him leaving my house crying from my head. And I spent the next half hour trying to convince myself it was the right thing to do. It wasn't working.
I was pulled from my thoughts as my phone rang across the room. I sighed and stood up, hoping to all things holy it was Stiles.
It was Scott. I sighed and picked it up from the table. "Now's not really the time," I said as soon as I answered.
"Oh," Scott said. Then he said it again. "Oh! Stiles is there...okay, yeah, nevermind."
What? "Stiles isn't here, Scott." I said, sighing.
"Dude, Derek. He's not answering his phone, you sound all wolf-moody like and I know you are both totally into each other. He is totally there." I could picture his stupid toothy grin.
"Stiles isn't here," I said again. "I'm alone."
"I kinda need to know if you're serious," Scott said, seeming suspicious. "Cause his dad called and his jeep isn't at the house and he wasn't answering calls or texts, and now it just goes straight to voicemail."
"What do you mean his jeep isn't at the house?" I made my way to the window. The jeep was sitting in the same spot he had parked it this morning. It hit me now that I hadn't heard the sound of the engine roaring after he left. I jerked around and saw that the keys were still on the kitchen counter.
"Fuck," I said, before Scott answered.
"What?" Scott said, his voice laden with worry. "Derek, what?"
"His fucking jeep is outside."
He was silent.
"He left over an hour ago, Scott. Where is he?"
"Did he say anything when he left?" Scott asked. "Maybe he went downtown or something." He didn't seem as worried as he should be.
"Scott, no. He's in trouble. He wasn't…he didn't go downtown." Dammit. Where was he? Where did he run too? I pushed the front door open quickly, hoping to all things holy he was sitting outside and I had somehow not heard his heartbeat. He, of course, wasn't there.
"What do you mean? What happened?" His voice was worried again.
"I…I don't have time to explain. I'm gonna follow his scent." I grabbed a jacket on my way out and followed the thick smell of Stiles…and Stiles' tears.
"What did you do, Derek?" Scott hissed at me through the phone.
"Scott, I'm serious." I said, cursing at myself internally. "Round up the pack. Ill call you when I have more of an idea where he went."
"Did you hurt him?" He asked, his voice angry but oddly calm.
"Scott, please. Get the pack. Wait for my call."
"What the hell did you do to him, Derek?" He growled. But I had already hung up. He was calling back, but I was running.
I don't know what I did. But I regretted it. So much.
*Stiles POV*
When I came to, I cursed. A quick recon told me that:
1) I had been taken hostage.
2) I was naked and hanging from the ceiling in a dark, cold room.
3) My jaw hurt really badly.
4) I was naked, and hanging from the ceiling.
5) Naked. Hanging. From. Ceiling.
"Hey!" I shouted, wincing from the pain in my jaw. I struggled against the restraints even though I knew it was useless.
After several minutes of silence, a door opened behind me. The light against the wall was enough to make me squint. I hadn't realized how dark it was in here.
"This how you treat all your guests?" I said, trying to twist around to face my attacker.
A tall, well-built bald man came around to the front of me, a sly smile on his face. "We were mistaken," He said. His voice was low and creepy. I don't know what I expected. "You smelled quite a bit different."
"You punched me in the face and have me hanging from a ceiling because I smelled bad?" Naked, I'm hanging naked.
He laughed quietly. "I think we both know what smell I'm speaking of."
"I was on a run. Of course I was sweating." I was determined to protect the pack. I don't know why. I wasn't apart of it anymore.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you? You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
He sighed. "Let's start this conversation again." He smiled and walked closer to me. "Hello, my name is Elliot. And what's your name?"
I rolled my eyes but answered anyway. There wasn't a point in ignoring it. "Stiles."
He raised his eyebrows. "Stiles?"
"Nickname," I said, sighing.
"For what?" He scoffed.
"My last name. Stilinski. You may know my dad. He's the sheriff of Beacon Hills."
He smiled evily again. "Name dropping isn't necessary, Stiles. We just want the answers to a few questions."
I stared at him without expression. I wondered if the pack would come soon or if I was on my own.
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
"Why do you smell like a pack?" He said, turning away from me.
I said nothing. I would protect my pack...even if I never wanted to see them again.
"Too hard to answer, huh?" He spun and glared at me "Who is the alpha?"
My heart broke all over again at the mention of Derek's title.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
"Aw, there's some emotional pain attached with that question. What happened, Stiles?"
I glared at the ground; trying with everything I am to avoid his eyes.
"A human in a wolf pack. Will the alpha not turn you? Is that what it is?"
He was so wrong. It almost made me smile. Almost.
"A human in a wolf pack," he repeated. "You don't seem to have any special talents. What is it makes you so special?"
I still said nothing.
He sighed dramatically. "If you don't start answering my questions, I'm going to have to get Michael, and you don't want that. He enjoys torturing werewolves for information. Not sure how he'd do with a human."
"Good cop, bad cop?" I said, a slight smile on my lips. "Oldest trick in the book, and you think it'll work on the sheriffs son of all people."
He grinned tightly back. "You are interesting, I must admit. A little too annoying for my taste, but I'm sure your alpha keeps you in line."
I clenched my jaw and looked away from him again. He knew mention of my alpha made me upset and less attentive. I needed to focus.
He laughed. "You submit to him, I hope. As a beta should. And even more so, a human beta?"
"We're a family." I said through a tight jaw. "We protect each other."
"So where are they now?" He said, starting to walk circles around me. "You can't howl for them. How are they going to help you out of this one?" He was mocking me.
"Tracking devices are pretty easy to get ahold of these days." I sad sarcastically. It was no use to lie. He would know.
"I'm giving you one last chance to give me some answers, Stiles."
"Or what?" I said, rolling my eyes. "My pack will be here soon. You're dead."
"I just wish you could smell how many of us there are. I smell maybe six distinct wolves on you. I'll tell you there's twice that in mine."
I tried not to react, but I knew my heart was beating loudly.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you? You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
"What is the name of your alpha?" He said shortly.
I swallowed hard and shook my head. He swung his fist and punched me in the stomach. I gasped loudly. He hit me again in the exact same spot and I think I heard ribs breaking. The third blow made me yell.
"What is the name of your alpha?" He asked again, circling around me.
I hung there silently, panting in pain.
He hit my face this time, just as hard. My already sore jaw throbbed. Blood from my nose covered my face and chest.
"One last chance, Stiles," He said. "Or there will be trouble."
I spit at him, smiling painfully at the bloody saliva on his cheek.
He cursed at me and stormed out of the room.
Please, Derek. Come for me soon. Somebody come for me soon.
It wasn't long before the door opened again. I took a deep breath and braced myself.
"Who's your alpha?" A new voice asked. "It's not that hard of a question."
I said nothing.
Long, sharp nails moved slowly across my back. I shuddered against it. He laughed as he came around in front of me.
Large black dude. Dreads. "How do those look when you're all wolfy?" I asked, taking a deep breath.
"Who is your alpha?"
"I wonder," I said, swallowing more blood. "If you were an alpha, would the rest of your fur be dread or would you be a messy mop of dread and fur?"
"And I wonder why any alpha would want you in their pack."
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
He doesn't want me. I said nothing in response.
"Elliot was right, there is emotional pain in that subject. I really do wonder…" He circled around me several times without saying anything.
My wrists were sore and were starting to feel raw. My ribs were throbbing and burning painfully. Internal bleeding would kill me in less than an hour, I think. I didn't even know if I had internal bleeding. But maybe that would be better. Maybe the pack doesn't show up. Maybe these guys kill me. Dad finds me in this abandoned house, beaten to death, and he doesn't know why. It was painful to think about, but it was less painful to dwell on that thought rather than seeing Derek again. I had made such a damn fool out of myself. I kissed him. It was better to be dead.
"You must be getting uncomfortable," He said finally, interrupting my thoughts. "If you tell me who you're alpha is I think we can arrange for you to be taken down."
I stared at him angrily. I wouldn't give up anything. I would die first. To protect Scott and Allison. To protect Isaac. Erica and Boyd. Even Laura and Cora deserved to be protected.
And Derek.
"Hmm," The man said, closing his eyes. "How about you tell me how many are in your pack?"
That I could do. And if it got me off this damn ceiling shit it'd be worth it. "Elliot said he could smell that," I said, looking him in the eye. "But he was wrong."
The man closed his eyes and nodded. "Okay, let's talk about it. How many?"
I considered not saying anything. He pushed my body lightly, causing me to sway against the restraints. My wrists really did hurt. "Nine." I included Peter in hopes of sounding scarier.
"Nine." He nodded. "Does that include you?"
"You told me you'd let me down."
"Does that include you?" He had his nails on my chest, threatening and cold.
"No." I hissed at him.
He nodded and walked away, leaving me suspended by the ceiling. Fuck him.
Soon after leaving, though, the door opened again. I heard the awful sound of something dragging against the concrete floor as well as the squeak of wheels.
He came around to me again, this time a girl standing with him. She was holding a table on wheels with a single bag on it. I didn't want to start to imagine what was in it…whatever it was, I would try to prolong it.
He sighed dramatically. "Are you sure you'd like to sit instead?"
"I wasn't aware I had a say in how you choose to torture me?" I said, rolling my eyes.
He laughed as he reached up above my head. Before I could figure out what he was doing, my body fell painfully to the floor. He had cut the ropes holding me up. I groaned and curled into a ball, holding my side carefully.
"Get up, we don't have all day," He said.
I didn't move. I would have if I had the energy. But my muscles were sore from running so hard and my ribs were screaming out in pain. He kicked me in the back. I yelled out again and tried to get onto my hands and knees in an attempt to obey him, but he was already pulling me roughly up by my elbow. He threw me into the chair and he and the girl quickly tied each of my ankles to the legs of the chair and my wrists were retied onto the armrests. The chair was cold and metal.
"Oh, this is much better, thank you," I said sarcastically. It came out in a whisper, though. I was losing strength quickly.
"Dismissed," He said without looking away from me. The girl nodded and left.
When the door shut behind her, he hit me twice in the face again. I was sure he bad broken my jaw now, if it hadn't already been broken.
I cursed. "You didn't even ask a question that time," I spit blood again. My jaw ached to talk, but I refused to give in.
"You're right, sorry." He said shortly – then he hit me again, this time in the chest.
The punches left me gasping for air, as each punch seemed to knock the wind out of me.
"What's your alphas name?" He said, walking away.
"You should know who's territory you're in," I retorted, spitting blood again. My tongue and lips were bleeding profusely.
He sighed and opened the bag on the table. Straight out of horror movie, he unraveled a blanket of knives. Shit.
"Cute collection," I said, my voice wavering.
He smiled. "Thank you, Stiles. Would you mind holding this one for me while I get Elliot?" He held up a long, skinny, and very sharp knife.
"Sure thing, buddy," I said, swallowing. "But you tied my hands down pretty good."
He smiled evily and quickly thrust the knife down into my right leg. I gasped and bit my tongue. I'd do anything to make sure he didn't get the satisfaction of hearing my pain.
He laughed and left the room.
Dammit. That hurt.
*Derek POV*
Fifteen minutes after leaving the loft, I was standing in the woods. Blood – Stiles' blood was on the forest floor next to me. His broken phone in my hands. I pulled my phone out shakily and called Boyd. I needed someone who would be calm, not Scott or Erica who definitely were angry already, even without knowing anything.
That plan failed when it was Scott who answered.
"Where are you?" He hissed into the phone.
"The forest. About four miles in. Follow my scent. I'll wait for you here."
"What do you mean?" Scott said, his voice still angry. "Is he not there?"
"No," I spit back. "He's not here, Scott. I smell another wolf."
"What the fuck did you do to him?" He yelled. There was a commotion, in what I assumed was the phone being taken from him, but I could still hear him. "He's four miles into the fucking woods! What the fuck did you do?"
"We're coming. Should we bring Allison?" Boyd asked. As I had hoped, he was calm.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down, too. "Yeah. Bring Allison."
"Be there soon, we're just about to the loft."
"Boyd," I said, stopping him from hanging up. "I am to blame for this. But I will die trying to fix it. Keep Scott calm."
"What happened?" Boyd said.
"Boyd, promise me you'll keep Scott calm."
"Allison is here," Boyd said. "That's as calm as he's going to get."
"Then you need to keep him away from my throat." I said.
Boyd laughed but I was serious. I hung up and cursed.
Why hadn't I been able to smell how serious he was? This wasn't what I expected at all, damn it. I had destroyed him.
I stood in that spot, shaking and upset for fifteen minutes. When the pack arrived, Boyd stepped between Scott and I.
He dropped Allison off his back and growled at me.
"Enough," I said, looking away. "It won't fix anything."
"Do you even smell that?" Scott hissed. "You broke him!"
"I know," I shouted back, the anger in my voice surprising even me. The entire pack took a step back with wide eyes, Scott included. I took a deep breath. "I know," I said again, calmer. Way calmer. "I know what I did. I am trying to fix it."
"Is that his blood?" Cora said, kneeling next to me, interrupting me.
Scott growled viciously again. "Why was he bleeding?!"
"I didn't touch him," I hissed back. "Don't you smell the other werewolf here too? Another pack is here. They took him."
"I'm sorry I cant smell another wolf over the smell of my best friend's blood and broken heart," He snapped, pushing past me.
"Stop, Scott," I ordered, grabbing his elbow. "We need a plan before we start marching off towards another pack."
"We find them and we kill them all, hope you die in battle, get Stiles out and leave." Scott said.
I growled and barred my fangs at him.
"Stop," Allison said, coming between us. "We need to focus. Stiles' is only human."
Scott growled but said nothing more. Thank god.
*Stiles POV*
When he reentered the room with Elliot, I took a deep and shaky breath.
"You're really unwilling to help us out," Elliot said slowly, walking to me. "Yet when your alpha is mentioned you release a heartbroken smell."
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you? You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
"And there it is," the guy with dreads said, smiling sickly.
"Tell us who he is, and we'll deal with him. Nothing for you to worry about."
I swallowed hard and shook my head. "I'll die before I tell you his name."
The laughed. The dread guy grabbed a second knife and I braced myself. Sure enough, this time the knife went across my shoulder roughly. I gagged at the sight of the blood, but made no sounds.
"He'll kill you," I whispered, trying to keep my breathing even.
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
Elliot came to stand in front of me, staring angrily at me. He hit me several times in the face and stomach before ripping the knife out of my leg and back down. I still didn't scream. I hoped I would bleed out and die soon, though. This pain was getting to be too much. I could barely focus.
"Tell me his name," Elliot hissed.
"Never," I said, my voice shaky and small.
He threw a closed fist down onto my elbow and the cracking sound my bones made was almost deafening in the concrete room.
Tears were rolling down my cheeks now. I struggled to keep my eyes open. I wanted to scream, dammit.
Minutes passed with the same question being asked over and over again. I was sobbing now, barely able to answer their questions with smart-ass remarks. Never had I imagined a time where I would find it hard to be a smartass.
"Kill him," Elliot said finally, fangs against my neck. "Kill him. His pack will arrive soon and we can decimate them, too. He is worthless."
My heart was pressing painfully against my chest. I thought it might explode. Just kill me, then. Do it quickly.
Elliot stormed out of the room and the dread guy narrowed his eyes at me. "Hear that?" He said.
I smiled painfully, my lip split in several different spots. "I did, thanks. Better hurry before he returns, Goldilocks."
He growled loudly at me and I laughed. I had a death wish, really.
He didn't look at the table of knives, but his hand still grasped one. He yanked it from the table and thrust it forward at me. I was screaming before the knife touched my skin. Fuck.
He stabbed me three times before leaving the knife, inlodged tight between two of my ribs, and exiting the room.
My scream faded. I didn't think I would live much longer. That hurt. Bad.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
That had almost hurt worse, though.
*Derek POV*
We ran a mile west of where the blood was before heading closer to where the smell lead us. We hoped it was far enough to have some sort of element of surprise on the wolves.
"Stop," Isaac said from ahead of us. He had the best sense of smell. "We can't do this,"
Scott cursed. "Stiles is dying!"
"We cant fight them alone," Isaac said. "There's too many of them."
"I'll call my dad," Allison said. "He'll help us."
I sighed heavily. I hated asking the Argents for help. But it was Stiles. I needed him.
I nodded once and she quickly pulled her phone from her pocket.
"Dad," She said after two rings. "Track my phone like I know you can and meet us. Stiles is in trouble. Bring everyone. Everything."
"Ten minutes," he said, hanging up.
We stood quietly for a few minutes before someone spoke up again.
"What happened?" Cora asked, stepping forward.
I frowned and took a deep breath. "I made a mistake."
"What kind?" Isaac said, walking closer to us.
"He…he kissed me," I said, looking at the ground. "I shooed him off. I told him to get away."
"You said worse," Erica said quietly. "I can smell it on you."
I nodded but said nothing more. I didn't owe anything to them. I only owed everything to Stiles. It was my fault. I would fix it. Or die trying.
After ten minutes had passed, I was growing impatient. Stiles was in more danger every minute that passed. He could be dead.
Dammit.
I can't think that way.
"Where are they?" Scott asked quietly, pacing back and forth.
"He'll be here soon," Allison promised, but she sounded unsure.
"Maybe we should go and have them come in as backup," Boyd said.
"No," Isaac said. "There's at least 17 distinct smells. We can't fight that."
Another four minutes passed before we all stood up and stared at the woods. We could hear the sound of Chris' fleet of SUV's roaring towards us.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Chris opened the door and stepped out before it was fully stopped. "What's going on?"
"Stiles was kidnapped. There's at least 17 wolves. We cant save him on our own," Scott said quickly.
He nodded. "What's the plan?"
"If you're willing," I said, stepping forward. He glared at me but said nothing. "I was hoping you and your men would draw some out of the house while we move around down wind and have some sort of surprise factor.
He nodded. "Do we know that he's alive?"
A low, involuntary growl escaped my lips He stepped back, raising his rifle at me.
"No," Allison said quietly, stepping in front of me. "We don't."
Chris nodded, still glaring at me. "We'll go now. Allison, you're coming with us."
"No," She said, surprising me. "I'm going in with the wolves."
He glared at her and she glared back.
"Dammit," Scott said, interrupting them. "We don't have time. He's not safe."
Chris sighed heavily but nodded his head. "Get a bow, then."
Allison ran to the SUV and grabbed a large bow along with a large quiver of arrows.
Chris jumped back into the SUV, started it up and led his mean towards the house after getting short directions from Isaac.
We heard the gunshots start before we were even close to the house. Shit. Shit. I ran faster, using my alpha strength to speed ahead of the pack. I wanted to cry when the house finally came into view and I could hear his heartbeat. It was barely audible, uneven and slow. But he was alive.
It was then that I heard it. I was staring at the house, focusing on his heartbeat. I was waiting for the pack to catch up before breaking down the door and going on a kill spree.
Then I heard it.
An ear-splittingly loud scream. A scream of sheer pain.
Then his heartbeat wasn't audible any longer.
I growled loudly and burst into the house.
I killed the wolf standing guard easily. My anger mixed with his surprise made for an easy kill.
As I wrestled and fought with a second wolf, the pack burst in through the broken door. They had heard it too. All of Beacon Hills may have heard it.
At the same time, a door opened and four wolves came running out to meet the pack. I focused on my battle, knowing my pack could take care of their opponents. Hoping, at least, that they could.
Allison stood in a corner, shooting arrows quickly yet precisely. They weren't enough to kill, but they were slowing our enemies down.
The room filled with more and more bodies.
I killed two more wolves before I heard it again. The faint yet sure beat of his heart. He was alive. Barely.
I howled, hoping he heard me. Hoping he forgave me. Hoping he'd stay alive.
*Stiles POV*
I blacked out, I guess. I woke up to the sound of fighting. Gunshots, growling and yelping. The pack and the Argents. They were here.
Suddenly, a very distinct howl rang in my ears. It was Derek. Derek had come too. He cared enough to come.
I struggled to hold on to life. Looking down at my body, I wondered how I was alive. Hurry, Derek. Hurry, Scott…
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
No. He was here. He cared.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
I was so tired. And my body hurt so bad.
Fuck, Stiles. Why the hell do you think I'd want you?
You're way too young. You're not my type, at all. Stiles, what the hell?
No, no way. I do not want you. At all. Are you stupid?
Derek burst into the room, tackling the dread guy who apparently had been right outside. They scrambled against one another on the floor as I sat helplessly tied to this damn chair. The knife was still in my leg. I wondered if that's all that my body needed. Maybe that blade was holding in the last of my blood.
The dread guy was knocked out when I opened my eyes again. Derek was working furiously on the knots around my wrists as the door opened again and two more wolves came in. He cursed as he was tackled, knocking the chair over on its side. My head hit the concrete and I struggled to stay conscious. The knife was pushing against the arm of the chair, digging itself deeper into my leg.
One of the wolves stumbled backwards into the overturned chair, pushing my leg nearer to the ground. I screamed as the wooden handle of the knife snapped off and the metal slid deeper.
Derek responded in a vicious snarl.
I tried to hold on to consciousness. I tried. But it wasn't working.
Scott was untying my wrists now, shaking and crying. His eyes lit up suddenly. "He's alive again," Scott called over his shoulder.
Allison and Derek were at my side now, too. Derek reached out towards me, but flinched away when Scott growled protectively.
"I did this to him!" Derek yelled. "That's enough punishment, don't you think?"
I was fading back out. So much pain…
I was bouncing painfully in the back of a car. I forced my eyes open. My head was in Derek's lap. He was staring down at me sadly. He sighed when my eyes met his. "Alive again," he said.
Was I dying? Was I blacking out?
"Keep his eyes open," Someone said from in front of us.
"Did you hear that, Stiles?" He was saying, brushing my sticky hair off my forehead. "I want you to keep looking at me. I want you to stay with me."
The embarrassment of what had happened earlier came back to me. He was doing this to save me. Not because he cared. I tried to turn my neck, but he was holding me tightly.
"Stiles, please." He said, his voice cracking. Was he crying?
The darkness was pulling me back again. I tried to fight it, but the light that I could see was getting farther and farther away. Darker and darker. The last thing I heard was Derek shouting my name.
*Derek POV*
The Argent's presence had scared off most of the wolves. Something about wolfsbane bullets was slightly unnerving to werewolves.
I had killed six wolves. Never had I killed so many people.
Not to mention the fight with Scott.
He wasn't letting me near him. Near Stiles. I needed to be near him.
And he wouldn't let me. He kept cursing at me, and provoking me, and screaming at me. And Stiles was laying there, hardly breathing.
I broke Scott's legs. He'd heal. He wouldn't ever get less angry, though.
We were driving to the hospital now. Allison was in the front seat, Scott had gone in a different car. She was driving crazily but I wasn't going to complain. The sooner we got to the hospital the better.
Isaac was in the front seat, shakily holding a cell phone. He had called the sheriff and told him to meet us at the hospital, quickly. The Sheriff was heartbroken.
Each bounce on these long forgotten roads made Stiles' body twitch in pain.
Each time his heartbeat faded I felt myself trembling. And eachtime his heartbeat picked back up after several seconds.
But not this time. It had been a minute. I was screaming. Isaac was reaching behind him, twisting his body, and putting pressure on wounds that I couldn't cover. Allison was crying, but she continued to speed on towards the hospital.
She spun onto the main roads, tires squealing. Several people honked and slammed on their brakes, but Allison didn't stop.
"He's dead," I shouted. I felt my body shudder. I was losing touch with my human side. I needed to calm down. But I couldn't. My anchor was dying in my arms.
"Two minutes," Allison said, her voice shaky.
"He doesn't have two minutes," I shouted back.
She accelerated.
She wasn't being careful. She had hit several mailboxes and trashcans as well as side-mirrors. But I didn't care. I needed to get him to the hospital.
When Allison started to slam on her brakes finally, I didn't wait for the car to stop to open my door. She had just barely stopped when I was pulling Stiles' body out as carefully as possible. I cradled him and ran inside, tears running down my face. I could hear his heartbeat again. Just barely.
The sheriff cried out painfully upon seeing us. Melissa McCall had a team waiting right inside and they took his body from me quickly. I followed next to them until two men held me back, shouting at me to stay out of the way.
Finally, they let go and left and I found myself in a heap on the floor. My hands, face, body, everything, was covered in his blood.
Then I was being pulled up.
The sheriff threw me roughly against the wall, screaming unitelligably.
Noone stopped him, the entire hospital shocked. Scott came in then, limping but walking still. Isaac grabbed his arm to stop him from coming to me. Thank god.
"You did this," The sheriff was saying now. "You killed my son!"
I shook my head and tried to get away from him. I needed to get this blood off me. I needed to see him. I couldn't hear his heartbeat. There were too many damn heartbeats around me.
"Never go near him again!" The sheriff shouted, throwing me back against the wall. "Never go near him! Stay away!" He threw me away from him.
I just shook my head again, making a move towards the doors that they had wheeled Stiles through.
"Look at me, Hale!" Sheriff Stilinski shouted, grabbing my shirt. "Stay away from us!"
Then he did something no one expected – he threw a quick and powerful punch.
The impact broke my nose, definitely.
Then Boyd and Scott were pulling the sheriff away from me. Isaac was pulling my arm roughly. Away from the double doors. Towards the exit. Away from Stiles.
"Get out of here, asshole!" Sheriff Stilinski shouted, pushing Boyd and Scott away from him.
"You need to go," Isaac was saying, pushing me towards the doors. "It's too much. You're starting to shift."
I fought against him, but I knew he was right. I could feel my teeth against my gums, large, sharp and angry.
"Come back once you're calm. Come back once the sheriff is calm. Go."
I cursed and started running. I didn't know where I was going.
Anywhere but here.