A/N: YAAY! My first Teen Wolf FanFiction! Please read and enjoy! And also... I don't own Teen Wolf... duh.

THREE-SHOT

SUMMARY: "I'm fine. Yeah, aside from the not sleeping, the jumpiness, the constant overwhelming, crushing fear that something terrible is about to happen." In which Derek drive Stiles away from the pack, Deucalion takes advantage of Stiles's isolated state, and something terrible does happen.

PAIRINGS: None (bro-fic, but if you crazy Sterek fangirls want, you can read it as that)

CHARACTERS: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Issac L. (I can't spell his last name), Ms. McCall, and the pack

WARNINGS: Violence, gore, language

Stiles licked his lips and sighed as he sat on the front porch of the half-restored Hale house, watching the pack duke it out in another one of their rather violent training sessions. The sky was black, with only the dull glow of the crescent moon and the stars to filter in through the trees. A chilly wind was nipping at Stiles's face and ears, and he pulled the collar of his red hoodie around his neck. Derek had said that it would be optimum defense training for the younger wolves to fight at night, allowing them to work on their eyesight and rely on their hearing and sense of smell when even that failed them.

Stiles shivered and tugged his hoodie closer, wishing that he had taken Issac's offer of borrowing a wooly scarf while he watched the pack train. Derek was overlooking the entire odd function while Peter worked with the newer wolves, teaching them with little patience on how to properly defend themselves without wolfing-out entirely, in case any wolfsbane was ever added to a potentially dangerous situation.

Stiles had already done everything he could think of to entertain himself, including doing his homework due on monday, playing games and looking up meaningless facts on his phone until it died, doodling, twiddling his thumbs, and whistling- up until Derek yelled at him to stop it because, really, didn't Stiles understand the 'super-hearing' thing and how 'utterly annoying and distracting' his whistling was? Stiles had argued that a distraction was good for the training, but the death-glare he received from Derek was enough to shut him up.

With a heavy sigh, Stiles watched as the pack split off into pairs: Scott with Issac and Boyd, Cora and Peter, and Derek watching from afar, his almost ridiculous eyebrows furrowed as his agitation with his pack rose. "No, Scott, you cannot 'just' use your claws. No werewolf whatsoever." and "Boyd. Watch your stance. You're leaving yourself wide open for a sneak attack." and even "Dammit, Cora! We want to keep some of the trees around the house standing."

Stiles drew in the dirt with a stick as he listened to Derek yap. He chuckled, Yap, and began to imagine Derek transforming into a cuddly yet vicious Pomeranian instead of a big, bad werewolf. If Derek was a Pomerian, Scott would be... a Poodle! Haha! Yeah! And Cora would be like- uh... I dunno, a cat or something? Because she's so sassy and vicious and terrible? Ha! Yeah... And Peter would be... a squirrel! Wait, we're doing animals instead of dog breeds now? Okay, so Scott would be a gold fish. Hehe... And Issac would be... Oh! Oh! Issac would be a big, cuddly polar bear! Yeah! And Boyd would be... um... a rock?

Stiles's mind wandered about, his ADHD not helping at all as he jumped from one topic to another. What if I was a werewolf? This was something he thought about rather often. I could defend them instead of it being the other way around... I'm kind of useless as is, but if I had super-hearing and super-strength and super-speed and all that super-hero-werewolf jazz, then I could actually help instead of just Googling stuff and stalking police officers to crime scenes... Stiles sighed, shaking his head. But I don't want to be a werewolf... And Derek would never give me the bite, anyways, so it's kind of a lost cause... Lost cause... Cause... Plause... Taus... Maus... PAWS! Haha! Paws... Now that's funny. Good one, Stiles! No! Wait- back on topic, Stilinski. Need to practice staying on-topic... Need more Adderall... Anyways, what can I do to protect them? What is they do come across some kind of wolfsbaney incident and can't defend themselves?... AHA! So easy, Stiles, why didn't you think of it earlier?! HA!

Stiles stood and made his way over to where Derek was standing, arms crossed and thick eyebrows furrowed. The Alpha snarled deep in his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose, calling out, "Really, Peter? You're supposed to be the mature one here!"

When he didn't look over at Stiles, the teenager cleared his throat. Derek glanced at him, taking note about how Stiles was bouncing up and down on his feet, twiddling his thumbs, and doing that damn whistling thing again. When Derek looked at Stiles, brown eyes widened. "Oh! Hey, Derek! Didn't see you there-"

"What, Stiles?"

Stiles pondered how to voice his question to the obviously angry Alpha. Angry Alpha... Angry Alpha alliteration! Woot! Wait- no- GAH! Stoppit, Stiles! Just ask the man! "I was thinking that... y'know... maybe..." Stiles was rubbing the back of his neck as Derek glared at him. "I could... train... with... you guys?" The last few words came out as a squeak, and Derek rolled his eyes. Stiles could already feel the shouting coming on, as could the rest of the pack as they all turned and looked at Derek.

Uh-oh... Angry Alpha soooooo not cool... Stiles thought to himeslf as Derek's arms uncrossed, his eyes narrowing even further. Can he even see me when he's glaring that hard?

"Why do you want to train with us?" Derek ground out, tapping his foot slowly as he waited for an answer.

Stiles gave a nervous chuckle, shifting in place and licking his lips again. "Well, y'know, in case you guys ever need, like, help or... something... Like, what if some hunter or Deucalion or some other creepy Alpha hits you guys with some kind of wolfsbane and you can't shift and you guys can't protect yourselves because you're hurt or unconscious or something and I'm the only one there that can help and everyone's phones are dead so we can't call the cops or Deaton or something and I have to defend you guys?" It came out all in one breath, leaving Derek stunned and with a headache at the fact that the hyperactive teenager could talk that fast.

Massaging the bridge of his nose again, Derek grunted, "No."

Stiles's jaw dropped. "What? Why not?!"

"Because."

"Because? Really?! You're gonna use a parent-line on me? 'Because' why?"

Derek dropped his arms to his side, suddenly looming menacingly over Stiles. "Because I'm the Alpha, and I said so."

Stiles deadpanned. "Okay, one: that was really a parent-line, and two: I'm not a werewolf, so the voodoo Alpha-magic thingie doesn't work on me."

Derek snarled, his jaw going dangerously tight. "Exactly. You're not a werewolf, which is why you can't train with us."

"But I need to be able to defend you guys and myself and Lydia and everyone else who needs help when you guys aren't around to wolf-out and save the day! C'mon!"

By now, the Alpha listening to Stiles's almost-whining was fed up. It was a combination of his pack being so stupid and Stiles being so... Stiles. Derek growled deep in his throat, then suddenly lashed out and grabbed Stiles's arm in a death-grip, twisting the teenager around and shoving him into the ground, holding his arm behind his back. Stiles cried out in pain, and Scott shouted for Derek to let him go. Derek, of course, didn't listen to the Beta. He only pressed Stiles's arm further towards his back, making the teenager cry out in pain again.

"Yeah-" Stiles gasped out, flashing a grin that showed both pain and sarcasm. "Yeah- something like this... Ouch..."

His eyes flashing red, Derek roared, "Do you still want to train with us?! This is why, Stiles..." He snarled, crouching low to speak directly into the gasping human's ear. "This is why you will never train with us. Because you are fragile, you are weak. I could maim you in a million ways, kill you in even more." The pack was watching, holding their breath, as Derek growled in Stiles's ear. "Because you are not pack."

Derek threw the teenager forward, letting Stiles drop face-first into the dirt and leaves. Oh shit dammit mother eff-er... Gooooooood that huuuuuurts... Scott charged over to Stiles, gently placing a hand on his best friend's back as he bared his fangs at Derek. The Alpha simply rolled his eyes and turned, ordering the others to get back to fighting.

Tears of pain and embarrassment threatened to leak from Stiles's eyes as he pulled away from Scott. Oh Gooooooood... he thought with a pained, sharp gasp. Is it dislocated or something? Broken? Dammit, that's gonna leave a mark... OUCH! Dammit, Scott! Quit touching it!

Stiles stood, not looking at the pack as he cradeled his arm and marched towards his Jeep, completely ignoring Scott's shouts for him to come back. He left the scene quickly, leaving the Hale house and pack in the dust.

Derek groaned internally as he felt Stiles walk up behind him. What do you want now? When Stiles finally spoke, Derek was shocked at the teenager's audacity to ask for such a thing. Doesn't he know how dangerous that is? Any one of us could maim him- kill him- even on accident. Derek snarled as the boy continued on a meaningless tangent about why he needed to be trained. Doesn't he understand that I'm just trying to protect him? What the Hell does he need to be able to get it through that thick skull?! A freaking example?!

Before he could even comprehend what his wolf side was doing, Derek had Stiles in a very painful position, his hand clenched tightly around the teenager's wrist and lifting it above his back. He heard the obnoxiously loud cry that left Stiles's lips, heard the teenager's hearbeat quicken, smelled the sweat and fear lifting from his body. Good... Derek thought. Now he can understand why-

But Stiles cut his thoughts off.

"Yeah-" And then he was smiling. Derek growled to himself. Why the Hell are you smiling? How the Hell are you smiling? Can't you see what I'm trying to prove you? You're human, dammit! Idiot! "Yeah- something like this... Ouch..."

Derek snarled deeply and spoke."Do you still want to train with us?! This is why, Stiles... This is why you will never train with us. Because you are fragile, you are weak. I could maim you in a million ways, kill you in even more." Derek could feel the fear- and anger, from Scott's direction- rising off the pack. He also could feel how Stiles still didn't get it. The way the teenager twitched under his hold, still trying to get out- trying to prove himself? Prove that he wasn't weak and fragile like how Derek knew humans were?- and he let out a particularly nasty growl. You need to understand! You aren't a werewolf! You don't heal easily! If you were ever in a situation like how you presented, you should run! The pack wouldn't be able to funtion without you... Human or not. But Stiles couldn't read minds, so Derek knew he needed to push the teenager as far away from ever wanting to fight werewolves as possible.

"Because you are not pack."

Derek could hear the hitch in Stiles's breath, a pained hitch that showed just how vulnerable the human really was. He threw Stiles away from him, praying that he had once and for all deterred the rebellious and daredevilish nature from the teenager.

"Get back to training," he growled at the pack, watching closely as they all moved- albeit slowly- to do as he said. Scott was over next to Stiles, now, snarling and baring his fangs and gold eyes at Derek. The wolf side of the Alpha wanted to turn right back and roar, bare his own fangs and brightly colored eyes, but his human side quickly pushed that urge down. He's just being a stupid teenager.

Derek heard Stiles get up and stumble to his Jeep. He heard the door slam with a particular anger, heard Scott shout for Stiles, heard the beat-up car rev away from the house.

There was a pause in which the pack stopped what they were doing yet again and watched Derek and Scott, waiting for a reaction from one of them. It was Scott who spoke first.

"ARE YOU CRAZY?" he roared at Derek, eyes still a bright gold as he showed his anger. "You could have seriously hurt him- killed him-"

"And wasn't that my point?" Derek replied sharply and icily, snarling at the younger werewolf. Scott was still glaring at him, jaws clenched and lips opening in a silent snarl. "Stiles is weak- human. He can be hurt by werewolves- something he needs to learn... One way or another."

Scott didn't speak for a moment, and Derek could tell that the youth was chewing over his Alpha's words. Finally, Scott sighed. "You're right, but you didn't need to almost break his arm!"

Derek ignored the backhanded agreement and looked back over at his pack, all of whom quickly went back to fighting. Scott sighed, shaking his head, and went back to where Boyd and Issac were starting their fight back up.

Derek watched for a long time, up until the moon was beginning to lower towards the horizon. He corrected his pack on repeat offenses, waiting and watching for the proper time to switch off opponents and fixing up battle strategies in his mind to give to them. At the moment, the fight was pitted with teams of Issac, Scott, and Cora versus Peter and Boyd. All of the werewolves were punching and kicking, their powers and abilities in the back of their minds as they struggled to down the other team.

It was the sudden uneasiness in Derek's stomach that made him stop mid-sentence of correcting Boyd. The dark-skinned werewolf watched with a frown as Derek placed a hand on his head, where a persistant throb was beginning. What is that?... Derek thought with a quiet grunt of pain as the throbbing turned to sharp pains. Agh... The Hell? This feels like when Erica and Boyd were captured, only... worse... The sharp pain in his head gave way to a ringing in his hears that made his eyes squeeze shut.

A hand on his shoulder made Derek's eyes open wide. Peter was looking at his nephew with an expression that couldn't quite be considered concern or annoyance, but a mixture of both. "What is it?"

Derek shook his head, the hairs on the back of his neck rising as goosebumps ran up his arms and legs. "I'm... not sure..."

Suddenly, there was a terrible pain that shot through Derek's head, making him let out a grunt of pain. He heard his pack give out cries and gasps as they all felt the pain as well. After a few moments, the pain subsided, and a face was suddenly imprinted in Derek's brain.

His eyes widened, and he uncharacteristically rasped, "Stiles."

Derek quickly transformed into full-out werewolf, his claws and fangs present, eyes a vibrant red. Scott and Issac were quick to transform after, with the others following suit last. Derek dropped onto all fours and began charging away into the forest, his pack right behind him. The ringing in his ears was growing louder and louder as Derek made his way into the trees, dodging them left and right as Stiles's name grew in his ears, the hyperactive teenager's face growing clearer and clearer in his mind.

Derek came to a sudden halt, standing and changing back into his human form as he saw a lump of red hoodie and jeans lying in the dirt, a certain familiar Jeep tossed onto its side almost fifty feet away.

He smelled the blood before he saw it. The copper scent was so clear that Derek could detect it covering Stiles from head-to-toe. Along with the terrible smell was one even worse- that of another Alpha. Derek's eyes darkened as he focused on the scent, his irises glowing scarlet. "Deucalion..."

"STILES!"

Scott darted over to his friend, his whole body radiating fear. "Stiles, Stiles! Oh God, please don't be dead... please don't be dead... please don't be dead..." Derek heard a faint heartbeat as he ran over to the two teenagers, his eyes widening when he saw the damage done to the human.

Stiles's hoodie was torn to shreds, his jeans also showing numerous holes and slashes that were tainted with blood. He had multiple scratches, all in lines of five, over his chest and torso. The youth's eyes were closed with his unconscious state, his mouth and nose leaking blood. Dirt and grime covered Stile's wounds and the better portion of his ratched clothes. Blood pooled around his body, accompanied by a stark, overwhelming scent that made Derek's own blood boil with rage.

Issac joined Scott's side while the rest of the pack gathered around Stiles, their reactions ranging from bitter tears to carnal howls of ire. With a swift movement, Derek was kneeling at Stiles's side, quickly checking him over for any bite wounds. He almost sighed with relief when he found there were none. Scott looked up at Derek from across where Stiles lay, his eyes conveying his rage through their brilliant hue.

"Deucalion did this."

It was more of a statement than a question, but Derek nodded more the less. Scott let out a grievous and enraged roar. Derek ignored the angsting teenager as he studied the way Stiles was laying. The human's chest was rising and falling slowly, almost unnoticeably, his back bent slightly as he curled in on himself in a loose fetal position. His spine and neck didn't seem to be broken- thank God- but his right arm and both of his legs showed signs of the injury.

Without a second thought, Derek scooped up Stiles into his arms, feeling a sharp pain in his head once more as Stiles let out a distressed wail, his body spasming as he curled towards Derek's chest. The Alpha felt rage build in his stomach as he quickly carried Stiles over to the overturned Jeep. How dare Deucalion... he thought to himself with a snarl. This was a direct attack on my pack-

"You are not pack."

Derek grit his teeth as his words came back to him. Dammit! I didn't mean it like that- I was just trying to get him to back off! The Alpha barked an order for Peter and Boyd to flip the Jeep back over. Deucalion will pay for this... He hurts my pack... I hurt his...

Derek placed Stiles in the passenger seat of the Jeep- can't carry him all the way there... not enough time...- and Scott quickly jumped in from the other side to hold his best friend still. Stiles's body was spasming as his wounds bled freely, his lips opening and closing as he whimpered and groaned. Mind still reeling, Derek jumped into the driver's seat of the car, taking note of how the keys were still in the ignition, and revved the vehicle up. "Meet us at the hospital," was all he said to his pack before he drove off.

YAY! Do you like it? Please tell me what you think!