Derek Hale knocked once again at the door of their informant. He had been send out on this errand by his mother, who felt a little underweather to go out, so Derek was the one who should bring to her some medicine. He would be alright with it, if not for the fact that the person who he is visiting is him.
Stiles Stilinski. The druid- not born, but taught- who took over after Deaton retired.
That had been out of blue. It actually happened a few days after the fire that almost killed his entire family. Not even until this day did Derek found out what happened truly, all he knew was that Kate Argent, a hunter, planned for it to happen. And someone foiled her plans. After that, Deaton appeared to their burnt house a few days later, apologizing and telling them he was retiring to teach his succesor. Of course, the man still helped them, he could never truly give it up, but now his student was the official consultant.
And Derek absolutely hated him. He was nosy, stupid, had a funny face and no seriousity. He was weak and used sarcasm more than he breathed.
The two were practically the opposite. There were times when they would get along, but those were rare and far in between.
After waiting for a few more seconds, Derek grew annoyed and fished out the key to the house. He was aware the Sheriff was on duty today, so Stiles should be alone. Everyone in his family owned a copy to the master key, alwasy using it if was necesary.
He entered, unbothered to lock or change his shoes. He closed the door and stalked inside, set on finding the boy- he was younger than himself!- and getting out of there. The house now held an unfamiliar scent. Usually it smelt like Stiles and his dad, but now it held another smell.
A short of familiar scent. He usually caught the scent on Styles, only in some days, and not so much that it was obvious. It was a scent that send alarm signals in Derek's head, so he choose not to comment on the suble but piercing smell.
It made him want to kneel before the one who was smelling like that. It was like opium to him, the longer he smelt it, the longer he needed it. But he didn't dare tell his mother about it. God knows she talks regularly with his sister, Laura, and both her and Cora like to make fun of him. If word of this would get out and reach them, only their uncle, Peter, could make him stop from destroying his sisters.
As he went deeper in the familiar house- he went here often enough to know where Stiles kept his tools and medicine for the Hale pack- he began to smell the scent more proeminent.
Derek was also aware that Stiles had another friend, a werewolf friend. If not, then there was no posible way for the hyperactive boy to have a strange scent on him, an unknown wolf scent. One that drove him mad.
He arrived at Stiles' room. That's where he kept the most of his stuff. Even if his father was aware of what was going on, he apparently was still not at current with all, so the younger Stilinski kept his stuff in his room, outside his father's immediate visual radar.
This was where the scent was the strongest. He was certain the wolf was behind this door. God help Stiles if he had slept with a werewolf. He knew, not from his experience, that werewolves females were possessive as hell.
He opened the door and stepped inside, slowly as to not alert the ones sleeping inside. He could feel two heartbeats, one slow, one a bit faster. One was definitely awake.
Inside the room nothing has changed since Derek had been here the last time- one month ago, when he had been shot by Kate Argent with a bullet meant to kill him in two days, but Stiles came back after a phone call and gave him some sedatives, with a promise to get the bullet and make him better, and when he woke up he smelt the same scent in the room and his wound healing already. Stiles wasn't far from him, speaking softly with someone at the door. Derek caught one glance of a hand brushing Stiles' face before the kid closed the door and turning to face Derek. Seeing the question in the werewolf's eyes, Stiles sighed. "She's your saviour, you know? She went in the Argent House and stole a bullet with the help of an inside agent." He didn't spoke about that person, nor gave him her name when he asked- the same messy floor, full of papers for his investigation, whenever for the supernatural or mundane world, his wall full of names and pictures- Stiles was usually secretive about his friends, but Derek at least knows one is a Kanima and one is a Banshee- and the bed where one body was covered by the duvet. The shower could be heard through the joined door, and Derek could now smell the scent that plagued his mind for a long period of time. The one sleeping in Stiles' bed was the one that drove him crazy, only with her smell.
He aproached the bed, aware that if this werewolf was a female she could clearly castrate him for sneaking on her. And from the body form, the werewolf was most likely a girl.
He tugged the duvet out of the way, revealing a girl, not older than Stiles himself- thankfully dressed in a one piece black dress- with the blackest hair he ever saw on an outsider's head beside his family. Her breathing was slow, as if unaware she was being watched. Her cheeks were rose colored from the little air she had under the blanket. Eyelashes long and thick, lips two petals on her face. She was gorgeous- even when sleeping. And the smell-
The smell was what made his stare at her with mouth wide open like an idiot for ten whole minutes. He couldn't choose what was more addicting to her smell- the way she smelt, or how much her smell was making him crazy.
In the end, the girl whined and turned to face him fully, crossing her hands on the pillow. Her nose was scruted as if she was bothered by something, then she sniffed and relaxed. With a sigh, she was back asleep, and the blanket was tugged from his hands and drapped over the girl once again.
Derek looked panicated to see Stiles, half dressed with his jeans on, hair wet- obvious signs he just got out of the bath. He looked at the girl with a small smile on his face, as if he looked at the most precious person in his life.
-Derek would find out later that he was half right.-
Then, Stiles turned away and tugged Derek away from the bed and to his desk. In a quiet voice, he whispered to Derek as he went through his first aid kit.
"I got your mother's message. I know what to give her. Tell her to take that in two days, in between meals and at the midnight. She should be better by the third." He handed him a bottle full of pills. He didn't spoke a word about what happened. Derek found himself relieved. It would be almost awkward to try and explain. Before he left, though, he had to look back one last time at the sleeping beauty on the bed. Stiles was watching him, took him to the door even. In a quiet murmur, he looked in his eyes as he closed the front door.
"Don't worry. She knew you were here, else she would have left. She let you see her, to remember her. She was the one to save you from the Argent's poison. The way you acted was completly normal." And he cut himself off then, making Derek want to strangle the boy. He was getting more and more confused, damnit!
One thing he knew. As he left in his car, he looked back in his mirror and he saw red eyes watching him leaving for a second.
