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Derek couldn't believe this was happening.
It felt like this whole night had just gotten even more of a nightmare when he would never have thought it possible. Still, there was nothing he could do now except damage control. Try and save what there was left worth saving.
He took one more second to strengthen his resolve, to allow himself to channel all of his hatred for Peter into his eyes as he stared the man down. Then it was time to follow through with what he'd started.
"Derek, let me go! I can't believe you're doing this!"
Stiles was still squirming in his grip, trying to get away with what was likely all of his strength. Derek barely noticed him struggling, holding on to the kid's arm like it was a life line.
"I'll bring him to the house in the woods," he told Peter darkly.
"Good." Peter smirked, the sadistic bastard, winking at Stiles like this was all some big joke, "I'm counting on you, nephew. Stiles, be a good little human and go along quietly. You don't want Derek to have to tie you up, now do you?"
Derek didn't take the time to watch the glee in his uncle's eyes at his own private joke, or to watch Stiles' facial color rapidly change from sheet whit to angry red and back. He whirled around, towards the door, dragging Stiles behind him. He didn't ask where Peter was going, though he suspected he would go check on Jackson's progress or go taunt Scott.
He didn't care. All he wanted was to get away. To get Stiles away.
Stiles wasn't making it easy though, making Derek drag him into the hallway kicking and screaming. "Let me go, let me go, you traitor, you utter and complete-"
He broke off, the breath knocked out of him when Derek whirled around at an inhuman speed and pressed him against the wall, a heavy hand clamping over his mouth.
"Shut up," he growled, then, when Stiles kept fighting him, "You'll wake your father."
He hated how the implication was enough to make the kid freeze up in dread, color washing out of his face. Hated the look Stiles was giving him, filled with so much anger and confusion and betrayal. It was obvious that no matter how badly he spoke of Derek usually, he had still been banking on him being at least partially good and trustworthy.
Derek clenched his jaw tightly, not allowing himself to let the sinking feeling in his chest affect him. This wasn't about Stiles liking or trusting him if it had ever been. This was about keeping him alive, even if he would hate him for how he did it.
He kept his hand over the teen's mouth, reaching out with the other to yank him away from the wall and against him, moving them down the corridor. Stiles stumbled along in front of him, shivering when they passed his father's bed room door.
Once outside, Derek hurried over to Stile's truck in the driveway, yanking open the door on the driver's side and pushing him inside, climbing in after him.
"Don't even think about it," he growled even before Stiles ever so much made a move to get out of the car.
Derek could hear his racing heart, the smell of his fear that was making him sick to his stomach but he said nothing. He needed Stiles to stay in the car and if it was only for his father's sake.
He watched and listened out into the night.
Peter was standing on the roof next to Stiles' window, looking down at them out of deep eyes. A smirk flashed over his face as he met eyes with Derek. Then he turned around and vanished into the night.
Derek started the engine, pulling onto the road.
"So how long have you been planning on betraying us, huh?" Stiles voice came from the side, shaky but mostly furious, "How long, Derek? I mean I don't expect much from you to begin with but to team up with the psycho who killed your own sister? Why? I mean what could be going on in that tattered brain of yours t-"
"Shut up, Stiles."
He didn't want to be so gruff. Did he ever?
But he needed to think. Needed to come up with a plan. But Stiles wouldn't be able to help even if he tried to explain. The teen was smart - but that wasn't in demand here. Even Derek didn't have the strength, or the ruthlessness to oppose Peter no matter the risk. The man had found his weakness, but explain that to Stiles –ever- was one of the last things on his list.
It would only make things worse if Stiles knew. Derek had no illusions about his affections ever being reciprocated –but that didn't mean that he wanted to deal with Stiles verbally dissecting his feelings right now as he surely would.
He just needed the teen to be alright. But peter was so strong, so lethal, so mad…he could snuff out his light in a blink. He shuddered, for a brief moment seriously considering just running with Stiles, to keep driving.
But no. Peter would find them. If only because Stiles would be screaming bloody murder all the good damn way to wherever he'd go.
No, the best option had to be to play along for now until he came up with something. Hope that Scott would just give in and join Peter, then nothing would happen to Stiles. Scot likely would, if only to save Allison. Then when they were pack, he and Scott could still figure out how to kill his bastard of an uncle. Yes. That sounded like a good plan.
It just didn't exactly feel like one.
Stiles looked like he was poised to spring on his seat next to Derek, exhibiting all the characteristics of a chased bunny rabbit. It was really distracting.
"Calm the fuck down, alright?" he half snapped, "I can't think over your heart beat. Nothing will happen to you."
"Oh, yeah?" Stiles snapped back, "Says the guy who just KIDNAPPED me out of my own bedroom in the middle of the night by threatening my father's life because of his uncle the SERIAL KILLER wants me tied up in his house in the woods! Weirdly that doesn't make me feel calm at all!"
Derek ground his teeth, fighting to keep his calm. "Peter wants Scott on his side. He won't hurt his friends and turn him against him with that. He just needs you as leverage."
Nothing changed about the smell of fear, or the erratic heartbeat, like he hadn't spoken at all.
He sighed, trying again. "Your dad is safe now, focus on that."
Stiles said nothing for along moment after that and in retrospect Derek should have known, should have heard the wheels turning in the teen's head. As it was he was completely unprepared when Stiles seemingly reached the logical conclusion that with his father out of danger he no longer had to play along with Derek and suddenly ripped the car door open, throwing himself out of the moving vehicle.
Derek's heart missed a beat as he realized what had happened. He slammed on the break, out of the car and on the road in milliseconds.
Stiles was lying in a heap on the concrete, road rash on his hands and face. His head was bleeding and his eyes fluttered, rolling back in his head when Derek turned him over hastily to inspect the damage. Great. Concrete 1, Stiles 0.
Fuck, he cursed inwardly. Leave it to Stiles to even mess up something as simple as this escape, and mess it up good. Like they didn't have enough problems already.
The teenager gave a pained moan when Derek scooped him up; he was only half conscious, barely responsive.
"Damnit, Stiles," Derek muttered as he hurried back to the car. This night was just getting worse and worse by the minute.