Relationship(s): Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall/Allison Argent, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes, Isaac Lahey/Danny Mahalauni, past Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore

Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Peter Hale, Isaac Lahey, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes, Lydia Martin, Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall, Danny Mahalauni

Tags/Warnings: Non-Consensual Touching, Torture (Psychological and Physical), Blood, Gore, Vomit

Chapter 2- SKIN

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

Stiles' return to consciousness was not kind. His body jerked awkwardly and his neck snapped backwards so fast he thought he might have broken something. He groaned and opened his eyes.

The door to the warehouse was directly in front of him and he could just make out the sound of angry howls behind it. The line of mountain ash lay unbroken along the ground. Stiles tried to crane his neck around but the action caused an almost immediate need to vomit so he stopped.

"I'm disappointed in you Stiles." Derek's voice sounded from his left and Stiles tensed briefly before forcing himself to relax against his bindings. "I expected a much better chase."

"Yeah, well I can't be good at everything now can I?" Stiles glanced to his left and was greeted by Derek's red gaze cutting easily through the gloom. Stiles swallowed convulsively against the memories that those eyes evoked.

"You always did have a mouth on you." Derek stepped closer then and Stiles noticed that he had one of the blades from his backpack in his hand. His eyes trained in on the glint of silver like a moth to flame.

"Is this the part where you tell me that you could put it to much better use? Because I have to say man, that is so cliché. You should really work on your material." Stiles flinched as Derek moved soundlessly and appeared in front of him. He grabbed Stiles chin roughly in his hand and wrenched his neck forward. Derek leaned in so close that Stiles could feel his breath against his lips.

"You should think before you speak. Next time I might have to take your tongue." Derek slid the blade softly across his cheek in warning. Stiles closed his eyes for a minute to regain his composure.

"You're the one who chased me. If you wanted some meek little cub to turn then you picked the wrong guy." Derek chuckled darkly as he released his hold on Stiles' chin and moved around behind him. He draped himself heavily over Stiles' back.

"I don't think anyone said anything about turning you." Stiles tried to turn and meet his eyes but Derek stopped him easily with a hand on the back of his neck.

"Then why are you doing this? What's the point? To kill me? Torture me? Why?" Stiles anger grew the longer Derek kept silent. He deserved to know why his entire life had been brought to ruin. All these years he thought that it was because Derek wanted to turn him so that he could add to his pack. Now Stiles didn't know what to think.

In his rage Stiles had failed to notice that Derek had repositioned himself off to Stiles' right. Derek regained his attention with a firm grip on his upper thigh. For a second Stiles forgot he was tied to the chair and he attempted to lunge at Derek. In reality, all he managed to do was force Derek's hand higher up his thigh and cut off his own air briefly as the ropes constricted against his chest.

Derek pushed him back into the chair with his free hand. "Stiles. Stiles. Stiles. If I tell you where's the fun in that?" Stiles scowled at him darkly in response. "And besides, why does it have to be just one of those things?" Derek's fangs protruded as he smiled and Stiles had to work to stifle a shiver. "You know, it took a lot of planning to get you here. You should feel honored that I went through all the trouble."

"Honored?" Stiles spit the word out as if it was poison on his tongue. "Honored that you decided to try and kill my whole family? Yeah, I feel really honored, you fucking asshole." Derek's claws ripped through the leg of Stiles' jeans and he hissed sharply at the pain. The blood welled up quickly and spread across the denim like a pool overflowing.

"I've been very merciful so far. You should be thankful." Derek sunk his claws a little deeper before finally releasing his leg and standing. Stiles gaped at him openly.

"You really are completely insane aren't you? I mean, I was pretty sure, but this, this definitely confirms it." Derek brought his hand up to his face slowly and began to lick the blood off. Stiles glanced off to the side and caught sight of his ruined thigh. He took a few heavy breaths in through his nose and fought down the bile rising in his throat.

"I'm not crazy Stiles. Not really. I'm just focused. And you just happen to have gained my attention." Derek circled around towards the door and paused for a moment to listen to his pack whining outside. He stared, disgusted, at the mountain ash on the floor before he made his way back towards the chair. "Do you know what I want Stiles?"

Stiles laughter sounded sharp and incredulous. "If I knew what you wanted I'm pretty sure this conversation would have ended a while ago."

Derek smiled at him and ran his fingers through his hair. It clumped together awkwardly as the blood that was left over spread sticky and thick. "What did I say about that mouth?" Stiles felt the blade swipe hazardously across his lips before it pushed insistently into his mouth. It tasted salty like sweat and tangy like copper. Stiles swallowed the bile down again and held very still. "Last warning." He slid the blade out smoothly and for a second Stiles thought he was going to retreat again. Instead he felt a sharp tug as Derek grabbed the hair at the back of his head and pulled.

The legs of the chair lifted backward slightly as Derek used most of his strength to keep Stiles off balance. Half of his body strained forward to keep him from bashing his head on the floor while the other half strained backward to ease the pressure of Derek's fist in his hair.

"God, you look good like this. All stretched out and struggling. I would fuck you right here if I thought you were ready."

Stiles huffed slightly as the pressure increased. "Ready?"

Derek let go abruptly and kicked his chair hard to level him out. Stiles barely managed to catch his feet on the ground to prevent a forward fall. His thigh contracted with the strain and more blood gushed out. The entire top half of his jeans was now the color of dark coffee.

"Yes Stiles, ready. You're not ready for me yet." Stiles stared at him incredulously as he replaced the blade in Stiles' bag. When he stood up again he was empty-handed. "I'm going to cut you free now. You are going to stand up and break your little mountain ash line and I am going to leave. You are not going to follow. Understood?"

Stiles mouth dropped open and for the first time in his entire life he couldn't find anything to say. Derek approached and unsheathed his claws beside Stiles' face. "I said. Is that understood?"

Stiles nodded wordlessly and sat still. Derek cut the ropes in the back with one smooth slice. Everything fell away at once. Derek waited patiently while Stiles regained the feeling in his hands. Once the pins and needles had stopped he stood up shakily. His thigh protested immediately but for the moment he just pushed it aside.

Derek gestured for Stiles to move ahead of him.

It took a full minute before he could reach the ash line because he had to drag his leg behind him. When he finally got to it the betas outside had gone silent. Stiles debated for a moment whether he was making the right decision. Ultimately he decided that if he had survived the Alpha he would probably survive his betas and he waved his hand swiftly across the line. It separated haphazardly and Derek stepped forward. He opened the door and took a step outside.

Stiles mouth opened before he could stop it. "That's it." Derek paused and turned. Against the dark of night he looked like something out of one of Stiles' comic books. "You try and kill my Dad, you kidnap me and cut me up and then you leave."

"Yes." Derek smiled at him and in the light of the moon Stiles could see the blood stains on his once-again human teeth.

"Why? What was the point?" Stiles anger was flooding him again and for a second he entertained the idea of hobbling back and grabbing his guns. He knew realistically he would never make it but it made him feel better anyways.

"I told you Stiles. Try and keep up." Derek rolled his eyes when Stiles stared back at him in confusion. "You're not ready yet."

"What does that even mean?!" Stiles hands were clenched in fists now. He was tired of talking in circles. He wanted answers Goddammit and he wanted them now.

"You're not broken. Not yet." Derek turned and started to transform. Stiles grabbed the side of the door to keep him upright.

"You'll never break me."

Derek's chuckle, when it came, vibrated heavily in the air. "You're already cracked Stiles. How much more do you think it will take?"

Derek finished transforming and loped off towards the outskirts of the warehouse district. The shadows of the betas followed soon after until Stiles was finally alone.

His brow furrowed in frustration and pain as he looked down at his damaged leg. He followed his own blood trail back towards his backpack and finally pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket. Derek's words circled like a swarm of flies inside his skull.

"You're already cracked Stiles." Stiles pushed two on his speed dial and Lydia's smiling face appeared in the corner.

"How much more do you think it will take?" Lydia answered on the second ring and after he told her where he was she insisted that Scott would be there in less than five minutes to pick him up. He hung up and slumped into the chair. He felt like his strings had been cut.

"You're not ready yet." Stiles heard the sound of squealing tires in the distance. It wasn't until Scott's worried face appeared through the doorway that it finally hit Stiles like a bowling ball to the chest.

He was going to kill them.

He was going to kill all of them.

Stiles threw up everywhere just as Scott reached for his arm.