Out Of Sorts

Chapter 1: Red and Black

Stiles didn't know why he woke up every morning to do whatever it was he did with his life anymore. Although his nightmares had diminished considerably and he had finally gotten around to sleep more than the usual four hours a day he had been managing the past few months, he still felt drowsy and out of sorts. Mornings were just the worst, nights too, in fact, mornings and nights were terrible. Any time Stiles found himself enough solitude and silence to think those deep adolescent thoughts and ponder the meaning of life, it was absolute hell. His brain became the juncture of everything real and unreal he feared to remember, be it about werewolves, his dad, his guilt or Lydia. Whatever it was, it was bad. Thus very little was left that he could actually enjoy thinking about. Perhaps food, not even that. The web of lycanthropic events he had gotten himself tangled in didn't leave him particularly hungry for anything else other than an army of wolfsbane Ents. That and lots of time battling mythical creatures online. A person had to let off some steam, right? He lacked the claws, fangs and hairy werewolf body to be little more than tech assistance whenever shit hit the fan, even more so when he was angry and mad at the world. You wouldn't see Stiles running through the woods killing little animals and gnawing on trees, no siree!; which did not mean Stiles felt short of respect for the werewolf status. He thought it cool reputation-wise. Well, ignore that. He thought it awesome. However, being the eternal target of a hunter's rifle was not exactly his dream job, not to mention being on the constant aim of the resident sourwolf's mind control.

Needless to say, it was not an eagerness for any kind of bite that stomped on Stiles' emotional stability. He certainly didn't want it. He had already seen way too many lives gone wrong to know better than to take that route, yet his problems wouldn't get solved by themselves. He knew that well enough.

Stiles blessed his beloved Adderall and dragged his feet out of bed towards the bathroom. With head cast down in shame, he tried not to look up at his reflection on the mirror. He wasn't exactly the pinnacle of beauty after waking up and with Gerard's latest addictions to his array of welts and cuts, he looked even grimmer. It was only when he started to replay Lydia and Jackson's pretty scene in his mind for the eightieth time that he found himself staring at his poor excuse of a face. He was brushing his teeth at the speed a turtle crosses a desert and foam was dripping down his chin, splashing all over the sink and floor.

"When I think you can't start making a mess before breakfast..." he heard a voice groan from the corridor. Stiles frowned half-asleep at his dad and avoided the look of reproach the Sheriff sent him through the mirror. He managed to reply something unintelligible and dropped his toothbrush in the process.

"Hurry up kid, the table is set"

It didn't take a genius IQ to understand the cause of Stiles' lethargy. Heartbreak was written all over him and if he got it inked he would probably be mistaken by some excessively tattooed emo rock band member. The pain was not wholly strange to him though. Almost a decade of unrequited love had put a definite dent on his hopes and dreams but, at the same time, it had strengthened them too. He thought they were sturdy. He thought he could handle total annihilation and win Lydia's heart sooner or later. But he was dead wrong. Devastation was the inevitable outcome and, putting things in perspective, he was actually glad he was human because getting over something that emotionally damaging as a werewolf would probably kill him and a whole lot of people as well.

"Another align to add in my Reasons to reject The Bite list" Stiles murmured to himself as he climbed down the steps to the kitchen.

His dad patted him on the back and urged him on, as they were both late for work and school respectively.

After the last and only time Derek had slashed his uncle's throat wide open, he would never have believed he would share what was left of their family home with the man who had killed his sister in a craze for revenge. He was still wrapping his mind about it and sorting out his priorities, namely the one where Peter Hale was in for definite and utter death.

"Done with your third morning workout for a bit of chore distribution? We should put up some timetables for the cubs" Peter wondered aloud.

Derek's tolerance for derision was stretching its quota with the man around. His acquaintance with Stiles Stilinski made a sneer or two bearable, but Stiles was avoidable, his uncle not as much.

"It's the cubs that we're missing here" Derek deadpanned. After announcing they were running off to find another pack, Erica and Boyd had been deleted from Derek's radar. He had not liked their decision but with the kanima issue pressuring him at the time, he had had no other choice but to respect their wishes and let them go. However, it all changed once he heard their howl the following night. It was pain, it was fear, it was a cry for help. Derek let go of the steel bar he was using for flexing and set his feet on the ground.

"The Alpha pack must have tracked them down already" Peter said.

"You don't know that" Derek growled. Peter rolled his eyes and sighed, ignoring the beastly outburst of this nephew.

"It was just a guess Derek. You know how I love a good prowl through the forest" Peter replied with mock. Derek just brushed the comment aside, grabbed his leather jacket and made for the front door.

"I'm checking the warehouse first" he said.

"You know it's useless right?"

"I'm not going to sit still waiting for something to happen. It's my pack" Derek told him.

"I'll see what I can sniff out on these woods, but don't expect a miracle. I'm not going to engage in a fight alone against them" Peter stated.

"No one told you to" Derek grumbled displeased. Want it or not, Peter was part of his pack now. Hale blood was not water, not even after rebirth. It meant family.

"What about Isaac?" Peter asked as Derek shut the door of his car.

"He's at school. I'll meet him later"

"You should use him as a link to Scott and Jackson given you are such a sure way to get their trust"

Derek's usual frown deepened. He didn't need to be reminded of his screw-ups on a daily basis, especially when the ones involved were not the brightest peas in the pod to begin with. Scott was the definition of an airhead and Jackson wasn't the captain of the lacrosse team pre-lycanthropy for nothing.

"He is doing his job" Derek snarled and drove away. He saw his uncle disappear into the forest through the rear-view mirror and then sped up.

The drive to the warehouse seemed endless. Derek tried to escape his thoughts to no avail. It didn't matter if his focus was on the road because his mind went immediately back to his pack. An instinctive worry for Erica and Boyd wore him down to bits and anxiety over Scott and Jackson's decisions would simply not go away. He also sensed the vague but distinct presence of the alphas looming over the town like a ghost and spoiling every scent with menace. Somehow Stiles' voice came to his mind in a panic.

"What could possibly go wrong?"

Derek chuckled before he meant to and took a turn left. On the opposite lane he glimpsed a familiar jeep pass by in a blur. It was enough to set his heart racing. The coincidence almost choke him and Stiles' confused expression and wide open eyes accompanied him for the rest of his journey.

Stiles parked his jeep so clumsily he might as well have been parking it in the middle of the Amazonian rainforest. He managed to get out in one piece but tripped on the curb, almost falling on his face. When he got up he met Scott's grinning face five inches away from his.

"Hey-"

"Oh my God! I just saw Derek smiling. He was driving and smiling to himself. Scott, listen to me. This is bad. Like real Satan-out-from-Hell kind of bad. We have to do something!" Stiles blabbered, hands gesticulating so fast he almost slapped Scott's nose off his skull.

"He was just greeting you" Scott said with a shrug of shoulders.

"Scott" Stiles' tone fell to abrupt condescension "It's Derek we're talking about here. Derek Hale" he said pointing to the void between them "Derek Hale. Stiles Stilinski" he pointed to himself "We don't do smiley greetings, not even by texting" he pulled his cellphone out from his pocket and jiggled it.

"Oh- Ok" Scott agreed "He heard a good joke on the radio or something"

"Listen to me buddy, at this point, be honest, you really think Derek even listens to the radio? Help me here"

Scott shook his head shyly and looked over Stiles' shoulder. The latter instantly assumed Allison had just appeared in sight.

"Hey, hey, hey. Remember the thing about you waiting for her and stuff?" Stiles' asked, waving a hand in front of Scott.

"Y-yeah, yeah I did. Doesn't mean I can't look" Scott complained.

"Sure, but now we have more important matters. Derek was smiling. Something is wrong. Something evil"

Scott sent him a look of disbelief "Stiles no"

"You remember Matt, uh? Remember him? Drowned-school-boy with a vengeance? Master of kanimas and stalker skills? Yeah, remember when I said something about him being evil?"

"Stiles, Derek's smile is not evil" Scott insisted as they started heading for the school entrance.

"Could you please stop taking his side for like five seconds and listen to your best friend? Heed my wise words you must. Dude this is-"

"Hey" Isaac's tall figure appeared beside them as they walked up the school's front steps. He had bags under his eyes and looked as pale as chalk.

"Hey Isaac, what's up" Scott paused mid-sentence noticing his bad shape "You don't look so good" he noted. Stiles nodded too. It was hard to be oblivious to Isaac's languor.

"I can barely sleep. I think it's the pack"

"Still no news from Erica or Boyd?" Scott asked.

"Nothing. I think it's affecting Derek as well"

"Doubt it" Stiles whispered. Scott and Isaac looked at him with disapproval, after which he chirped a quick "Forget I'm here"

"What about you? Do you feel anything weird?" Isaac asked Scott.

"Not really, no. Derek's not my Alpha"

Stiles noticed Isaac squinting slightly at the remark, as if the rejection had physically hurt him. The imminent threat posed by the alpha pack had intensified the need to expand pack numbers. It was already known that had been the reason why Derek had begun biting every willing teenager in sight awhile ago, but now that the danger was finally here the need for numbers was stronger and Isaac clearly felt it too. His disappointment was not surprising.

"But that doesn't mean we can't help, right?" Scott offered with a soft smile and he turned to Stiles expecting a nod. Stiles was a bit startled but unable to protest seeing Isaac's pitiful state.

"Yes sure, why not. I can never get enough of life or death situations, being a human and all"

The bell rang at that moment, saving him from a profound awkward silence. He sat down on his spot behind Scott, chewing on his hoodie's drawstring with regret. His words had left a bitter taste in his mouth, yet it was too soon for him to be jumping back into the boiling pot. How much of a break were they ever going to get? Why, with everything that seemed to be terrorizing them, was Derek freaking Hale smiling? Stiles' jittery leg was on before he noticed, tapping the floor nonstop.

The abandoned warehouse seemed to be in the same condition Derek had found it in the past week. Empty, stinking of rust, messy and dark. There was no sign of Erica or Boyd anywhere, their scents were gone, barely a memory lingering in the air. He was running out of options; getting closer and closer to despair. Nevertheless, he knew they weren't dead yet. He could feel the bond they shared. It was weak but it was there and he was going to find them. He had to.

Derek sat down, head resting on his knees. He could feel a sort of headache coming, a feverish warmth heating up his brain. Sweat soon began trickling down his neck and he felt too heavy to even stand. He tried to calm down and breathe but the change was drastic and immediate. A metallic taste mixed with bile at the back of his throat made him gag. He tried to change but lost control halfway.

"Wha-"

Words did not form, only strange and muffled howls escaped his mouth. Derek's heart began beating abnormally fast, almost twice its usual beating, then thrice. He was scared his heart might burst out and his head was not feeling any better. He noticed he had fallen to the ground when he almost choked on a cloud of dust and dirt.

"Urgh!" He gasped desperately for air and clawed the ground frenetically, spasms shaking his whole body.

Derek tried to get a hold of his senses, smell anyone nearby but he couldn't. When bones started cracking he gave up and lost his mind.

Stiles was leaning against his locker waiting for Scott to finish his five-minute "date" with Allison outside the swimming pool complex. He could be watching the swimming team practice instead of counting the number of gingers that walked by, but he chose not to. The last time he had been by the pool nothing good had come out of it and the memories were still too raw to even digest. Moreover, Stiles had spent most of his classes thinking about Derek and rewinding his life back to the two hours he had wasted holding up the ridiculous guy so he wouldn't drown, only made him feel worse about himself.

"Hey knucklehead where's Scott?" Jackson's voice cut Stiles from his trance. He sighed unconsciously and lost his laid-back pose once he saw Lydia by his side.

"Hi" she cheeped sweetly. Her shiny red lipstick was in place as well as her strawberry blond hair draped over her tiny shoulders and framing her face perfectly. Stiles was taken a back by the sudden appearance of the couple, so much so that Lydia had barely entered his field of vision. He didn't feel very blinded by her presence and he hadn't counted a single ginger head either during his wait which was weird. It used to be such a sure way to keep him distracted. Stiles blamed the emotional marring he had sustained ever since Jackson had been brought back from his lizard ways.

"H-hey guys. Scott is.. uh, he is... not here" he wanted to kill himself as each sound left his being.

"Yeah we didn't know that" Jackson scoffed. Lydia just kept looking at him with a strange blank stare. Stiles decided beforehand it was better to ignore her altogether, hence focusing on Jackson who somehow looked a bit like-

"Isaac"

"What, what about him?" Jackson replied perplexed, clearly not following Stiles' train of thought.

"You don't look good either"

"I always look-"

"Wait, wait, you don't understand. Are you feeling tired? Exhausted? Restless?" Stiles was beginning to see a pattern, but he was not sure if Jackson fitted. He had been the kanima during the time Derek created his pack so he would probably not feel Erica and Boyd's absence as strongly.

"Not rea-"

"Yes. He was complaining about a minor headache two minutes ago" Lydia interrupted Jackson before he could put on a brave front and lie. Stiles found it all very sweet and annoying.

"So it affects you too" he ended up saying. Lydia's big eyes were boring holes on the left side of his face and Stiles knew he would have to explain everything to her if the conversation kept going any further.

"What affects me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing really, pack stuff, nothing to worry about. You should ask Derek about it-" Stiles squeezed himself against the lockers and tried to make a discreet run for it when Jackson grabbed a hold of his hoodie and locked him in place.

"No, you know something. Spill it"

"I seriously don't know. It's just a theory of mine anyway" Stiles replied peeved. His routine as the communal werewolf punching bag was getting old. He wrestled out of Jackson's grip and stepped away.

"Have you seen Derek then?"

Stiles shook his head and left feeling a bit mislead. Jackson seemed genuinely worried about Derek just then, which made his headache kind of legitimate. Could Derek have found Erica and Boyd? Or could something along the lines of blood and gore and death have happened to them, something painful enough to resonate through the pack's werewolf senses? Stiles was never happy in his speculations.

Scott found him a few corridors ahead and at once he could tell something wasn't right. Stiles gave him a quick summary of what had and might be happening and asked him if he felt any exhaustion.

"No, I don't feel anything spooky either, besides the alphas" Scott answered sadly.

"What about howling?" Stiles remembered they could hear each others' calls.

"Nope, maybe they're too far away and besides, the school is crowded. Makes it hard to listen"

Stiles sighed and scratched the back of head furiously. He was racking his brain trying to think of way to explain what the hell could be sucking the life out of those werewolves but he was dry. He needed a laptop and internet connection.

"Hey look it's Isaac" Scoot nudged him with his elbow and Stiles drew his attention to the tall boy standing in the sidewalk. They walked up to him in quick steps hoping he wasn't having some kind of seizure.

"Man, you okay?"

"Isaac?"

Scott turned him around and he seemed to be fine, alive and breathing, but his mind was definitely somewhere else. Stiles and Scott began speaking hurriedly at the same time.

"Jackson isn't feeling very well. He looks pale just like you. You think it might be some kind of disease? He is a bit retarded so it's only natural he gets it delayed, but he is totally feeling something weird. You feel any change?"

"Isaac, you there? What's wrong, tell us something, you're looking worse. Where's Derek? Have you called him? Any news?"

Isaac opened his mouth at the word Derek "He is not here" he said morosely enough to shut them up. Both shared an expectant look.

"So?" Stiles pressed on.

"He should be here. He was going to pick me up but he isn't here and I don't feel him anywhere. I don't understand. Something's happening"

"You don't feel him anywhere?" Scott's voice resembled an echo "Let me see" while he closed his eyes and focused on finding any trace of Derek nearby, Stiles's brain was already three thousand and twenty four steps ahead.

"Is he dead?" was the only thing he managed to spew out.

"I don't know"

Isaac's answer was not very helpful and Stiles would have wittily pointed it out on any other day not this one. The mere possibility of Derek being dead was enough to stop Stiles from breathing. He wasn't sure why but whatever killed Derek could certainly kill everyone else, so there was that.

"I can't feel anything either. Let's get out of here and look around" Scott suggested.

"Yeah let's spread" Isaac followed but Stiles stopped both of them.

"No, no, no, no, no, no! Let's NOT spread" he corrected aloud "No one is going anywhere until we figure this thing out" he took a deep breath and turned to Isaac "Does Derek do any daily checks on his lair? It seems like the first place where Erica and Boyd would turn up if they turned up" Stiles reasoned, murdering all the eloquence he might have with his last sentence.

Isaac's frightened stare eased to a calmer look and he nodded with his head.

"Great. Let's start there"

They hopped onto his jeep and drove away. Barely two miles away from the warehouse Scott and Isaac began reacting differently and Stiles' fears doubled. Nothing he wasn't used to.

"There's someone there" Scott was the first to speak up "I'm getting a weird scent"

"Yeah, but it's not completely unfamiliar"

"Guys don't talk unless you've got something reassuring to say. In my world Derek is dead and we're the next in line. Also, quick reminder that a human is here. Driving" Stiles was of the opinion his input was extremely important for his survival and reminding the people with supernatural powers of that was key to success.

"Ok stop here" Scott pointed to the side of the road thirty feet across from the warehouse. Stiles hit the brakes and did as he was told.

"Come on"

"Are we all going?!" Stiles asked flabbergast.

"You said not to spread" Scott said confused.

"Yeah, ok, I did, I did, let's go then" Stiles sighed and followed Isaac. He was resigned to his fate.

Inside the warehouse everything was quiet; not even a fly flickered near the lamps. However, after closer inspection there was a corner near the old railroad car were things seemed more damaged than the rest. At first glance it was nothing that did not blend in with the surroundings, yet, there were claw marks on the ground and a nice trail that led to the back of the warehouse. Stiles walked along it until there ceased to be any rusty ceiling above him. Outside there was only a cloudy sky and cold wind blowing through Beacon Hills. Trees rustled with the breeze and birds flew from tree to tree at random intervals. Stiles glanced back to point out how ominous it all was but no one was around.

"Oh ok, cool. Alone. By the woods" Stiles cheered himself. He stared back at the ground to make sure the trail was still there and he felt relieved. He was glad it wasn't some illusion because for a moment he had succumbed to doubt.

Out of sheer stupidity, or maybe daring curiosity, Stiles moved on. The trail led him on into the woods and began to change gradually. It went from claw marks to a mere dragging of a body and further ahead there were only animal paws, normal animal paws that looked like a-

Stiles heard a rustle nearby. He looked behind him nervously and, to his surprise, saw the top of the warehouse in the distance. He had wandered too far. A million curses erupted inside his head. He took a few steps backwards and tried to stay away from any fidgety and suspicious bushes. His back was eager to find comfort in some big wall or thick tree, but he was known for his lack of luck.

"I should not be allowed these kind of cliches in my life- oh my God!" he yelped as his foot stepped on something slippery and squashy. He tried not to think about it but his brain was screaming FLESH FLESH FLESH without any intention of stopping until he confirmed it. For the hundredth time that day, Stiles took a deep breath and turned around, not quite ready to stumble upon Derek's corpse. No, not ready at all. Never ready in fact. No. No corpses for Stiles. His OCD chose the most perfect moment to kick in with a bang. While frozen in his spot, Stiles tried to reach a trembling hand into his pocket and take out his phone but another rustling bush startled him enough to drop the damn thing to the ground. It was then that he turned back by impulse and met the bloodied remains of a deer. A tear fell down from his eye to the pool of blood massing at his feet.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God" it was the only think he was able to say and speaking turned out to be quite comforting, even if he was only talking to himself.

"S-Scott. Where's Scott. Shit, my phone" Stiles stooped down to search for his phone among the dead leaves. His hands were shaking and the noise he made was sure to alarm the whole freaking forest of his presence. He picked up his phone and dialed Scott as fast as he could. He stepped slowly away from the deer and scanned the place around him while the call beeps soothed him. When Scott picked up it was all Stiles could do not to yell for help.

"You found the trail? Follow it right now. Something's up here. Quick, I think..."

Stiles speech abandoned him. From between the bushes next to the deer's carcass a big shadow emerged. Dark and red. As the creature stepped into the light something other than blood contrasted against its black fur. Red eyes.

"It's a wolf"

A/N: So here it is. My foray into the teen wolf fandom, more specifically, sterek fandom. I wanted to write something ever since I saw the show this summer, but only now did I get the muse to work on it. Hope you enjoy it.