Hey! Really nervous posting this as It's my first attempt at a Sterek fic. This chapter isn't beta'd, so if anyone interesting in fixing that, please let me know. This takes place during 'Fury' Season 2.10. It's Au from here.

Stiles considers himself the brains of his and Scott's little wolfie duo. Scott brought the strength, while Stiles spent most of his sleepless nights putting all the clues together. It worked out rather well, usually. They didn't have a pack or alpha helping them, so their duo had limited resources, but overall, they got by and were still alive. That was always a bonus.

Stiles generally spent a lot of his time working on his plans, except Beacon Hill's had a habit of crapping on Stiles well thought out plans. Nothing was ever easy. Tonight's plan had been simple; find evidence that Matt was the bad guy. Even Stiles' dad was starting to come around to the idea that Matt was behind it all. Then what happens when they're making major progress? Crazy supernatural Beacon Hills happens. One minute they were looking through files and feeling like heros, the next, some crazy guy was holding them hostage. This was Stiles life now.

Matt paced the room, the gun shaking in his hand. Stiles' dad had been locked up in the cell room, away from all the madness. So far, he hadn't seen any of the crazy supernatural creatures, but Stiles knew that wouldn't last long. Stiles wasn't that lucky. It was only a matter of time before the Kanima and Scott had an epic fight, that was the only way any of them were getting out of this alive.

"You're going to delete everything they have about me. Then, you're going to look through your little books to find out what's going on with me," Matt decided, turning his gun on Scott.

"Oh, we all know what's going on, you boarded the crazy train a long time ago, and now the rest of us are paying the price," Stiles replies. Matt turns the gun to Stiles. The scowl Scott shoots Stiles is a silent command for, 'don't poke fun at the angry murder while he's holding a gun and a snake killing thing over us.' Okay, so maybe Stiles can totally see where his best bro is coming from.

"Stiles can sort the computer, don't try anything," Matt declares, shooing them with his gun.

It doesn't take them long to clear the computer, considering how well Stiles knows his way around the system. He's been hacking his father's computer for years; he's probably better at the program than most the people working in the department. Or rather, worked, considering the number of bodies now piled up in the police station.

After a little while, a car turns up, and Stiles can see the panic on Scott's face. Melissa is just another person for Matt to hold over their heads. She's another person Scott needs to look out for. Scott's a young wolf, still struggling to understand his powers. He can't protect them all, especially against the Kanima which can knock his wolfie ass out with a fingernail.

"Open the door," Matt commands, glaring at Scott. They move towards the door with slow, cautious steps. Stiles can feel his stomach turning; he knows statistically things aren't looking good for them. There are too many people here for everyone to make it out. He needs his dad to be okay, though, just like Scott needs his mother to make it through the night. The four of them are a dysfunctional family.

"Oh, thank god," Scott breathes as Derek appears in the doorway, but it doesn't last long as Derek face plants on the floor. So not helpful.

The Kanima appears at the door, its yellow eyes flickering around the room before landing on Matt, its master. It's not as scaly as it was previously. Stiles can see some of Jackson in the monster's appearance. The eyes are all Kanima though, vacant and murderous. Jackson might be a bully and an ass, but he wasn't a murderer. He wouldn't be so laid back about wiping out ninety percent of the Beacon Hills police station.

"Just in time," Matt smirked, gesturing towards the car park. There's no mistaking Melissa rattly engine as it parks up outside.

"Let me just get rid of her," Scott offers.

"No," Matt demands, eyeing the Kanima. "Stay here with the wolves, Stiles and I will go say hello to Ms. McCall."

The Kanima moves over to Scott and wraps its long fingers around his neck, its nails hovering just over his skin as a threat. Leaving Stiles, the only free one, the last chance to get them out of this mess. Except Stiles isn't a hero, he doesn't save the day. He can research the hell out of a murder mystery, but he's got no muscle density or combat skills. Hell, his father would be higher up the hero scale then Stiles.

"Do we even need her?" Stiles questions as Matt grabs him by the collar and yanks him out the door. "Honestly, Mrs. McCall is awesome, but I'm sure we've reached our hostage limit. We don't need any more hostages, more than three is just a waste."

"Shut up Stiles," Matt growls, shoving the gun into his back and pushing him forward.

Stiles stumbles slightly but manages to keep his balance as he makes his way over to Melissa. She looks exhausted, still in her work scrubs. "Stiles, where's Scott?" She asks, moving towards him; then she notices the crazy teen behind her son's best friend and freezes. "What's going on?"

"Oh, you know, we've been out of trouble for- what is it? Twenty-two hours now?" Stiles rambles because he's freaking out. When he worries he just talks more, it's an extremely annoying habit according to his father. Ugh, what does he know? "Also, I'm sure you know Matt, the boy behind me holding the gun. He's been doing a clear out in the police department. Apparently, some people were slacking. No surprise there, right?" Okay, so maybe Stiles' father had a point about his inability to stop talking. He was so not making this situation better.

"You're going to follow every instruction, or I'll kill Stiles and then your son," Matt instructs Melissa, completely ignoring Stiles. Rude.

"Okay, let's calm down and talk-"

Melissa doesn't get the chance to finish her sentence because the gun goes off and in a panic, Stiles moves towards her in some pathetic attempt at a rescue. Except, he's barely across the room before he's falling face first on the floor. He can feel the pain of something hitting his back. It takes Stiles a second to register that Matt hadn't aimed at Melissa, he'd aimed at Stiles.

Stiles gasps out as he hits the floor, his chest heaving as he struggles to breathe. His chest is burning. Every breath feels like his last. Stiles is so shocked and feeling so much pain he barely has time to register the screams and shouts coming from Scott, Melissa, and his father.

"Stiles!" Melissa shouts, attempting to step forward but Matt turns his gun to her. "Let me help him, please, I'm a nurse. I can stop the bleeding."

"You don't know what they are, do you? You have no idea?"

"Human," Stiles manages to cough out. "Not snowman- Joke." Okay, so maybe his joke earlier about being an abominable snowman hadn't been the best idea. Although, it's not like Stiles would know Matt would take him seriously. No one takes him seriously.

It's hard to breathe, and even Stiles knows it bad. Really bad. He can't move for the pain, and his blood starts to cover the floor. He's going to die, in front of his best friend's mother while his father is chained up with his own cuffs just a few meters away.

"You're lying!" Matt snares, "Even if you're not, I don't care. You wouldn't be the first person I've killed. Grab him and follow me."

Stiles tries to move, to do something but he can't. His arms shake as he tries to push himself up off the ground, his chest heaving as he sucks in a breath. Suddenly strong arms are around his chest, pulling him to his feet.

"You're going to be okay," Scott promises as he helps Stiles stand, but Stiles knows that's a lie. He doesn't need supernatural hearing to detect the lie in Scott's words. Stiles has minutes left; he can tell by the way his chest moves. His mother started breathing like this near the end like every breath was her last. The way his chest expands in a desperate attempt at air. It feels like he's drowning, just without the water.

The Kanima is just meters away, watching them and waiting for instructions from his master. Matt doesn't seem at all bothered that he's mistake Stiles for a supernatural creature.

Stiles struggles to catch his breath as Scott pulls him along the corridor. Stiles can feel Scott taking some of Stiles pain along the way, it's not much, but it helps.

"What is that thing?" Melisa panics, her voice getting quite close to going hysterical. Stiles can't blame her.

Matt orders Stiles to be dumped into the room with a paralyzed Derek. He hears protests, but then Stiles hears mellisa scream and sudden stiles is placed on the floor. The door gets locked, and then they leave them alone. Stiles drags his body across the floor to lean against his father's desk, blood trailing him as he moves.

"Stiles?" Derek asks, a frown on his thick eyebrows. Stiles can see the alpha's eyes flickering around the room trying to see him and the flare of his nostrils as he takes in the blood. "What happened?"

"I had a fight with a bullet," Stiles wheezes out. "Pretty sure I won, but-but my lungs collapsed so- so not sure if that means I still win."

"Just breathe, try and keep calm."

"Never," Stiles gasps out each word, struggling. "Thought… of … that...genius."

"You're going to die."

"Mr. Brightside...thanks."

Stiles can just imagine Derek's glare, but the room starts spinning, and he's struggling to pinpoint where Derek is.

"Shut up," Derek growls. "I can hear your heart; it's struggling with the blood loss. Stiles, you're dying, but I can help you. There's no other choice if you want to make it out of here."

"No."

Stiles feels useless at times; he doesn't have the physical strength and abilities like Scott, so he's never the one saving the day. He was tempted in the past by Peter's offer, but not enough to take him up on it. He doesn't want to change, to become a werewolf. He's quite happy being a werewolf's human best friend. At least one person in their strange little group of friends should remain human.

"You're dying," Derek growls out. "I can teach you, afterward. I'll help you manage the change. You must decide now, or it will be too late. Some wounds are too much to survive the change. If you keep bleeding like that, the change will take too much out of you, and it will kill you."

"I can't- I-" Stiles stutters. He doesn't want the bite, to change his life forever. Except, he doesn't want to leave his father. Stiles and his dad have been there for each other since his mother's death. They have each other, and that's it, the two of them are family. If anything happens to Stiles, he doesn't know how his father would manage to keep going. Stiles looks after his old man; he keeps him fed and the house tidy. Stiles keeps them both going. "My dad."

"Will prefer you alive," Derek states. "You need to come over here before you pass out from blood loss. Or bleed out on the floor, I don't mind either way. It's your choice, and I can't make you do anything. Some people don't survive the change, but it's the only chance you have. I can smell the amount of blood, you don't have long."

"Snarkywolf," Stiles grumbles. He shuffles forward towards Derek, his body protesting each movement. His breathing is getting worse, and he's pretty sure he's going to die, even with the bite. He's probably too far gone to heal now. He can't survive this, but he has to try, for his father. So, Stiles manages to drag his body across the floor towards Derek. Stiles' hand's shake as he raises a wrist towards Derek's open mouth.

The venom has no effect on Derek's wolfie face apparently because he manages to wolf out. Stiles closes his eyes as the long fangs break his skin, pressing down into his flesh. His whole body sets alight, and Stiles pulls his wrist away as the world spins faster. He hears his name being called, someone in the station, probably his father. Derek says something, but Stiles passes out before he can make out the words.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Will he make it?" Stiles hears his father ask.

"He should make a full recovery, but we're not sure how he even lasted this long. The bullet punctured a lung, causing a pneumothorax. It's a miracle he survived this long for the doctors to put a drain in."

Stiles is pretty sure that voice belongs to Melissa, but for some reason, he can't move. They sound calm, and the beeping clues Stiles in that he's in a hospital. Thank god, they're alive. His dad's okay, and they made it. Except where's Scott? Derek?

Stiles tries to move his hand, but nothing works. His eyes won't open, and his voice won't work. He can hear, but he can't speak to them. He can't let his father know everything is going to be okay.

"When I saw him in that office- I thought-"

"I know," Melisa says, and then there's a shuffle. Stiles is pretty sure he hears his dad crying. He hasn't cried since the day of the funeral for Stiles mother. The sheriff never cries. "Just enjoy the peace John, once he wakes I'm sure neither of us will get a word in," Melisa jokes, and Stiles hears a soft half-hearted laugh from his father.

Stiles spends the rest of the day catching a handful of conversations. He hears Scott come a few hours later, but Stiles still can't move. Some of his classmates come by, even Lydia and Stiles is at least seventy-five percent certain she holds his hand at some point. With his drifting in and out, it could have been anyone holding his hand. Stiles needs some comfort in this nearly dying thing; he's going to convince himself that it was Lydia holding his hand until someone proves otherwise.

"Why isn't he healing?" Scott asks a few hours later. Stiles has no idea what day it is or how much time passes as he drifts in and out.

"I don't know," A rough voice admits. Derek. Derek freaking Hale is visiting him in the hospital? Oh crap, Stiles must still be dying. That's the only reason he can think for Derek Hale to be paying him a visit. It's a deathbed visit

"If his body rejects the bite, when would we be able to tell?" Scott asks.

"It would have happened by now, I can feel him, he's part of the pack," Derek informs him. "You're right, though, he does smell different and his scents changing."

"Doesn't that happen when we change?"

"Only slightly, but you still smell close to what you did before the bite, he smells completely different, and it's still changing."

"Is that your way of saying I need a shower, Grumpywolf?" Stiles croaks out. It takes him a few seconds to realize those words hadn't been in his head, but out loud. His eyes open to the concerned face of Scott, leaning over the bed.

"Stiles!" Scott calls, hugging his Stiles a little too tightly until Derek pulls Scott back with a warning glare. "Sorry, I've been so worried about you Stiles! Mom didn't know when you would wake up. It's been days."

"How many?" Stiles asks, trying to sit up. He's in a hospital bed, a private hospital room which shocks the hell out of him. Private rooms are expensive, and Stile's is pretty sure his health insurance doesn't cover this sort of treatment. There's a pain in his side where Stiles guesses the chest drain had been and a bandage covers the side as he feels over his hospital gown.

Scott moves closer and helps Stiles sit up and even fluffs his pillows for him.

"It's been four days," Derek supplies. He frowns, his red eyes flashing. "How do you feel?"

"Human," Stiles answers. He doesn't feel any different. There's no difference between his hearing, sight or sense of smell. "What happened after I passed out?"

Scott shifts uncomfortably, "The Argents showed up, Matt was killed, but the Kanima got away. Mom managed to get a tube into your lung long enough to keep you alive before the ambulance arrived. No one else got hurt, apart from the cops, our parents are fine, though, I promise. Mom was awesome; you should have seen her, even the Argents were impressed. She got a tub into your lung just in time."

"So, the bite did save me?" Stiles asks, then he looks towards his bandaged wrist. He pulls at the dressings, removing it as quickly as his exhausted fingers can manage. He gasps at what he sees. The bite mark is still there, but the marks are red, quite a bright red too. He knows that can't be good. In fact, Derek's rumbled growl makes Stiles think it means something quite bad.

"Alter," Derek growls, taking a step back. Stiles looks up and sees the way the alphas red eyes flash and nostrils flare. He's looking at Stiles like he's dinner and Stiles really doesn't like being dinner.

"What?" Scott demands, stepping in front of Derek. "What does Alter mean?"

"Mine."

Then, Derek lunges at Stiles.

Continue? Stop? ha, let me know. Thanks for reading.