Okay, i am still apologising for the angst because in my head i can see where this is going and it's not pretty. Forgive me? Anywho, hope you enjoy it.
Also- Scott's going to be a jackass pretty much most of this story but i figure i can fix him eventually. Don't hate me for it just yet.
Any and all mistakes will be mine and i am sorry for them.
The first thing he heard when he woke up from dozing beside Stiles was a quiet whimpering as she rolled away from his side. She had fallen asleep with her head on his chest and stayed that way all night. Not that he minded. It was reassuring; the feel of her warm, alive body beside him. The sound of her heart beat and her breathing in time with his as she measured it with an ear against his chest and a hand around his wrist. Last night came way to close for comfort, had he been just a minute later he might have lost her, had Jackson nod had some of the best reflexes he's ever seen, human or wolf. Watching her plummet, screaming, towards the ground was one of the single worst things he'd ever experienced and it was by sheer luck that it didn't turn into number one on the 'things that have destroyed Derek Hale' list.
"Stiles? What's wrong?" He whispered sleepily as she pushed herself up onto her elbows slowly, wincing. She turned to look at him with wide eyes brimmed with tears.
"Last night.. Just- Fuck, Derek.. I'm so sorry." Stiles tried to blink away the tears as they welled up and spilt along her pale cheeks, flowing into the hollows beneath her eyes and under her cheekbones; testament to the malnourishment and pain of the past year. Derek sat up slowly, a learnt reaction now that Stiles still flinched away and smelt like terror whenever one of them moved too quickly. He made sure her eyes were still on him as he reached out slowly to balance a hand on her shoulder gently.
"It's okay, Stiles. You're hurting, it's understandable. It's okay." He dragged his hand slowly down her back, hoping to offer her comfort of pack even without the wolf component running through her veins. She had never minded before, had been incredibly tactile in the time before the Alpha pack and the hunters. Now though, she whimpered and flinched away from his touch, the scent of pain flooding through her.
"What is it? Are you hurt?" There was a tiny minute nod of her head as she lowered her eyes and bit back another sound of pain. "Can I see, please?" Shaking her head, Stiles pulled away slightly from his touch and tried to scoot into the corner between the bed and the wall where she could hide the injuries from him.
"Come on Stiles, I just want to see if you need any treatment." He whispered back to her, hand lightly around her upper arm. It was disturbing that where there used to be muscles from swimming and sometimes training in Lacrosse with the boys, there was now just bone and sinew. His fingers overlapped as they curled around her. She shot him a look over her shoulder before sighing in defeat. Slowly she lifted the hem of her- it was his shirt but whatever, he liked how she smelt in them- shirt.
"It's just, I think Jackson's arms bruised me when he caught me. And my ribs already hurt, and that cut from the knife.. I think it might have re-opened and I just-" She broke off with a gasp as Derek took over raising the shirt lightly, running his fingers over the bruises being revealed. Her back and side were blue and purple, more so over the lines where Jackson would have caught her and curling around her ribcage and over the knife wound where his hands would have gripped. She twitched as his fingers lightly explored, muscles twitching under his touch.
"It's fine." Stiles announced bravely, trying without success to slide the shirt back down.
"No, just.. Wait a second." Derek splayed his hands as far as he could over the bruises, wondering why he had not done this before even though he had known she was in pain with cracked ribs and months of other abuse. Slowly, black lines of her pain shifted into him. He could feel the almost suffocating pain coming from his ribs, attacking his own nerves before his quick healing banished the feeling. Slowly, he pushed a little more against the black bruises closer to her spine, pulling away the pain whilst also feeling for more substantial injuries. Thankfully, he could neither smell or feel any deeper injuries than the ones she already had, and beneath his soft touches he could feel her breathing a little easier, moving a little more smoothly. It wouldn't last, would just have the effect of a long lasting pain pill, but between he and Isaac they could keep her pain away until she was healed up. The physical pain, anyway. Stiles turned back to look at him as he lowered her shirt with a tiny smile. The first genuine one he'd seen in so, so long.
"Thank you." She whispered in a small voice, holding the shirt down with her fingers, fiddling with the hem. Derek just nodded to her and leaned back against the headboard, waiting for the last of her pain to be taken away from his own body. Her face blushed as her stomach rumbled, it was the first sign of any kind of hunger since they'd brought her home.
"Derek.. Do you think maybe we could- could we maybe.. I don't know. Can we go down? For breakfast, I mean?" A small, pleased chuckled emerged from somewhere within him. Anything Stiles had managed to eat, often encouraged to do so, had been done in his bedroom. She had not left this room unless to use his en suit until last night. He hoped it was a slight sign of recovery that she was willingly going to leave the room in order to eat.
"Sure." He could feel the nervousness rolling off her as she stood to follow him, her hand now moving to grip his forearm, clinging to him as they made their way out of the door. She swallowed loudly, shivering against him in the long sleeved shirt and rolled up sweat pants. He worried faintly as they came to the flights of stairs that she wouldn't be strong enough to walk down on her own accord, she was still as weak as newborn and clinging to him just walking down a straight corridor.
"Do you want me too.. Y'know?" He gestured towards the two flights of stairs, watching her closely as she swayed. Light headed, probably from lack of sustenance and last nights dramatics. Stiles shook her head no, but clung to him tighter. Derek shifted so she was attached to the arm away from her, half holding her across his body with one arm hovering behind her without touching. Ready to catch her if she fell. A nod came from Stiles beside him and they took the steps slowly together. He couldn't hear the pack downstairs, and there was a multitude of heartbeats coming from the bedroom they had disappeared into last night. Derek assumed everyone was in there, not taking the time to find and count individuals. Even if they all weren't, he was assuming everyone was safe and knew that now was not the time to overwhelm Stiles with their concerns. It was times like these he was glad they had managed to gel into an actual family-like pack before things got massively messed up.
It took longer than he thought it would, with three near misses where Stiles had lost her footing or gotten too light headed, but they eventually made it downstairs and into the kitchen. He settled her into one of the cushioned seats around their big table.
"What do you want to eat? We got all the things for omelettes, or cooked breakfast, or oatmeal?" He wanted to kick himself for the hopeful lilt to his voice, but Stiles hadn't eaten more than half a cold cut sandwich since they'd brought her back and it was worrisome.
"Do we- Can I have some toast? Dry?" Derek's eyebrows furrowed, but he nodded.
"You want anything else, coffee or something?"
"Coffee might be nice." She whispered in reply, biting at her bottom lip in a familiar show of anxiousness. He wanted to pry it away with his thumb, soothe the red skin with a soft kiss, but she hadn't brought up what had happened between them before they had gone to bed last night and he wasn't about to make things any more awkward than they were right now.
"Do you have my Adderall?" Stiles was looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes, still nibbling on her lip harshly. He turned to her from pouring the coffee, confusion showing the lines on his forehead.
"I don't have it, your dad didn't bring it. It doesn't seem like you need it though?"
"I probably don't- I just.. All the thoughts and the images are so fast and I just want to be able to concentrate on the.. The good things instead of the bad thoughts that just wont go away." Derek moved around the kitchen, getting milk and sugar, checking on Stiles' toast before he turned back to her.
"Why didn't you say anything?" He asked, sitting opposite to her and pushing the mug of bitter, black coffee towards her along with two slices of dry toast. Stiles wrapped her fingers around the mug, staring into the liquid as if it held all the answers in the universe.
"The past few days have been hard." She chuckled harshly, lifting her hands to drag down her face. "Fuck, Derek. These past few years have been hard, I just didn't think Adderall was important. But last night, I just couldn't get the images and words to go away and I ended up on a roof. Derek, I could have died and I didn't care because it wouldn't go away." Silently, Derek moved out of his chair, coming around the table to crouch beside hers. She was tearing her toast into little pieces and refusing to look at him, blinking heavily at the tears gathering under her lashes. Gently, he pulled on the chair until the entire thing, Stiles and all, were turned towards him. He lifted her head with a fingers under his chin until her eyes met his. She was shaking, trembling harshly against him as she battled the emotions trying to break through her defences.
"Stiles. I want you to listen to me, okay?" He lifted his hands, encasing her face between his hands, gently petting the hair at her temples with his fingers. "I know. I know it's been hard, and I know you took so much of the pain and the suffering to keep us safe. The pack appreciates you for that, loves you for it. And now, it's our turn to keep you safe, alright? Our turn to make sure you're safe and happy and cared for. We will never let you get hurt again. I will never let you get hurt again." Stiles is wide eyed, tears no longer spilling across her cheeks but still gathering heavily in her eyes. Her mouth is parted slightly.
"Do you understand, Stiles? I'm never going to let you get hurt again. Never." It takes a while, Derek's eyes roaming over her face, before she nods lightly. His hands are still encasing her face, holding her shaking body steady as he spoke to her, and she turns her head slowly into his palm. Her eyes are closed as she presses a kiss to his palm.
"Stiles-" He starts to pull away, afraid that he will misinterpret her thanks for something else. Her hands shoot up, faster than he's seen her move in such a long time.
"No. I remember- I remember the kiss last night. I want this- Okay. I w-want you. I just need some time. We need some time." Derek stares at her, listening for any leaps in her heart beat, but this is the first time in days that her pulse is steady in his ears. She's still trembling beneath his fingertips, but not as harshly. It takes some time, and it's not in words that he replies. Instead, leaning forward, he presses a chaste, gentle kiss against her warm mouth. It elicits a small sound of surprise from her as he pulls away and goes back to his side of the table, taking sips of his coffee whilst Stiles pulls herself back together. Eventually, she turns around, goes back to focusing on her food. He watches her closely as she nibbles on torn up pieces of toast with a small smile, happy to see her at least putting something into her empty stomach. Derek is glad that for once, he can see that this is going to be a good day.
That is, until Stiles takes a sip of her coffee and immediately turns an ashen colour. She shoots up from the table and stumbles to the kitchen sink, hand clamped over her mouth until she reaches the basin and retches heavily. Derek is right behind her, hand on her forehead to keep her from slipping forward and hitting it off the faucet, the other wrapped around her gently, holding her upright. There is very little in her stomach, and Stiles spends fives minutes painfully dry retching whilst Derek whispers soothing words into her ear and tries to hold her as steady as possible as she shakes in his grasp. The pack have moved out of the bedroom, he can feel them gathered in the kitchen doorway behind them but pays them no heed. It takes another minute or two before Stiles is steady enough to hold her own head up, and Derek helps her run water into her mouth and clean up a little before turning her and holding her gently to his side.
"You okay?" He mutters into her hair, getting a nod in return.
"I feel better now, just tired. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." He can hear her voice wavering, fear beginning to permeate the air around her and once again Derek curses the men for doing these things to her, causing her to become terrified of someone's reaction to every little thing she does.
"Nothing to be sorry about, maybe we shouldn't have done coffee so soon huh?" Stiles sniffles into his chest and tries to control her fear, pushing it down and under and Derek can feel the tense lines of her body as she tries to fight against the conditioned response.
"Okay." Stiles eventually sighs against him, and he can feel the slight relaxation in her muscles. "Okay. Can we just watch TV down here or something now? Please." Derek nods at the others who make their way quietly out of the house, trying not to alert Stiles to the fact that they had seen it all, before he helps her through into the sitting room. Someone during the morning before they got out of bed had come down to start the fire in the fireplace, something Derek had once hated but now secretly loved. It was a decision for the house that Stiles had made, something about conquering fears. He let her flop onto the sofa, pulling the afghan over her slight, shivering body for more warmth and then took the armchair beside her. Admittedly, the ashen tone to her face had gone, but Derek was still worried. If Stiles was going to spend the whole day here watching Gossip Girl on Netflix, then so was he.
Stiles is halfway through a quiet rant about why Chuck and Blaire is a better 'ship' than Blaire and Nate, using more words than she has in a really long time, when someone knocks on the door. He watches as she tenses up visibly, shoots panicked looks between the hallway leading to the door and Derek, eyes wide and terrified. Hoping to soothe her fear, he takes in a deep breath to try and figure out who it was and had to suppress a growl. It's Scott. No Allison this time, but the fact that he is here after a pack dismissal is an insult. He's close to shifting and throwing Scott half way back to the Argent house when Stiles' weak grip on his arm pulls him back to her.
"Who is it?" She mouths to him, terror palpable in the air. She smells like fear and prey, it doesn't help with trying to quell the wolf, but the expression on her face makes him remember that he needs to keep calm for her.
"Scott." Derek manages to growl, earning a little whimper from her before he apologises and takes deep breathes. Another knock comes, this time louder, more forceful and even knowing who it is, Stiles still flinches heavily.
"I'm gonna let him in okay, because you deserve to hear about why he hasn't been here for you from his own mouth." He knows that Stiles had hardly realised who had been with her over the past few days beside Derek and Isaac, the two wolves she measured her vitals against as she slept. But knowing that Scott hadn't been here at all set an uncomfortable knot that felt a lot like betrayal in his stomach. Makes him want to take Stiles away from the pain that this one boy could cause her. Has caused her.
"Why are you here?" Derek demands once he pulls open the door. Scott looks, and smells, anxious. There is no longer the familiar scent of pack on him and Derek knows that there probably never will be again. Scott's an omega now, it's what happens when you betray your own pack, your best friend, for the daughter of the leader for the most fears hunter family known.
"I wanted to see Stiles." Derek watches as Scott gathers his bravado, tries to strengthen himself for an argument. "She's my best friend and I wanted to make sure she was okay." He suppresses a growl, glowering at him instead.
"And where were you when she was being attacked in an alleyway, or trying to scrub her skin off in a shower, or almost jumping from an over 30 foot roof? What gives you the right to be here now?" Stiles splutters, stinks of confusion and anger at the accusations and plain disgust in Derek's voice.
"I'm her best friend!" It's a weak argument at best, but Derek did tell Stiles he was going to let Scott explain himself and he can feel her curiosity from here.
"If you hurt her today, I will refuse you access to Hale land for as long as you live. Understand?"
"You can't do that! I'm pack." Smug, stupid Scott.
"Not anymore. And I mean it, now get in there. Be gentle and explain why the hell you weren't here when she needed you." Derek growls at him, stalking away and through to where Stiles was now sat, legs curled underneath her. Scott followed behind him, slamming the door and making Derek growl at him. He took a seat beside Stiles this time, leaving the armchair to Scott who sits, picking at the skin around his thumbs in a familiar show of anxiousness. He watches as Scott take a deep breath in and then look up at Stiles, head tilted in confusion like a puppy.
"Why do you smell really sick and really healthy at the same time?" He murmurs, just about loud enough for Stiles to hear. She gives a nervous chuff of laughter in reply but glances at him for answers. He has none, he'd smelt it on her too, but up to now he has no idea. It could be anything, and other than things that he thinks are to be expected after what she has been through, there has been nothing unusual.
"Don't know." Stiles returns quietly when he gives her no response, and Scott just shrugs his shoulders and goes back to picking at his thumbs.
"So.. Urm.. Where have you been?" Stiles starts the conversation again, since Scott seems to have become a mute. He shoots her a guilty look before averting his eyes to the fire.
"Derek told me I wasn't welcome anymore." She shoots him a confused look but he is still glowering at Scott. How dare he try to shift the blame here? He lets loose a small growl, gaining Scott's attention and added tension in Stiles' muscles. Derek sighs, rubbing small circles in the skin of Stiles' ankle beneath the afghan. Scott's shoulders slump even further, the guilty look and scent around him deepening.
"Okay. And why did he do that?" Stiles asks quietly, reaching under the blanket in search for Derek's hand. He knows what she is doing and moves a little closer so that she could wrap her fingers around his wrist for the pulse that lay there. Scott shoots him a dirty look as he watches them covertly interact, before going straight back to looking like a guilty puppy. He mutters a reply under his breath but Stiles pulls her eyebrows together and leans in a little closer.
"I'm sorry, I didn't hear that?" Scott sighs, giving her a pained look.
"I was with Allison when I was supposed to be watching you."
"I didn't know anyone was supposed to be watching me. But alright, when was this?" Stiles inquired. Derek can't quite make out the confusion of emotions bubbling out from her.
"The- the day you were attacked and the pack found you. I was- Well.. Allison was upset because she didn't think her grandfather could have started this." His eyes go wide, what Stiles used to call his 'puppy dog' eyes. "She needed me Stiles. I took her out for a day away from town instead of watching over you 'cause Allison needed me." The emotions bubbling under Stiles skin finally settle, boiling down to betrayal and anger. Similar to those Derek is currently experiencing.
"You were with Allison?" Her voice is cold, hard. Scott just nods.
"You were with Allison when you were supposed to be watching me?" Another nod, anger growing and growing around her.
"You chose to take her away because she was upset whilst I was being raped?" God. Oh holy sweet mother of God, that's the first time that word has been used. Stiles hadn't even talked about it since the first day. And she had never used that word, not until now and it makes Derek want to throw things and destroy them all over again. Makes him want to rip Scott to pieces because it's his fault that this word has been thrown out, that Stiles is angry enough to say it for the first time. He's unleashed something inside of her that Derek wanted to coax out slowly, gently, help her through the aftermath of accepting what had happened. And even then, only after he and the pack had accepted it themselves so that they could help her.
It gets the wanted response though, because Scott flinches and whines.
"I'm sorry Stiles, but I love her. I love her and she was upset. I thought you would be home for the day, I didn't know anything bad was going to happen." Stiles takes deep breaths, winces as her cracked rib aches and her bruises throb in time with her fast beating heart.
"I've put up with your shit for years, Scott. You've been a crappy friend, but I put up with it. Because I love you like a brother. I fought to keep you safe, got you through turning, let those men defile me to protect you. And you were with Allison because she was upset while I was being attacked in a filthy alleyway?" Her voice is quiet. Hard, cold ice that makes Derek shiver. She is unrecognisable like this, but in some ways he had always known this was inside of her. This anger, this pain. It was just a matter of time before it erupted.
"Stiles, please.." Scott whines, but Stiles shoots him a cold, empty look.
"Get out." She whispers, and Derek can feel the pain, betrayal and anger bubbling inside of her. Knows there is going to be massive repercussions because of this silly boy's actions. His misplaced loyalties.
"Please, no. Gwyn, please-"
"Don't you dare. Don't you dare use her nick-name against me you bastard. Get out." Her voice is raising, fists clenched. "Get out. Get out. Get out!" She is on her feet now, afghan abandoned to the floor and Derek can see her swaying unsteadily as she screams at Scott. There are hot, angry tears rolling in fat lines down her face as she breathes heavily, staring at him with such anger, such pain that Scott almost crawls to the front door in his attempt to get away from the guilt of it all. The door slams behind him but Stiles doesn't even flinch. Her breathing is laboured, eyes glassy, she is swaying unsteadily on her feet and Derek has to almost throw himself towards her to catch her before she hit's the ground. One hand over her chest, holding her against him, the other carding through her hair.
"Breathe with me Stiles, come on. In. Out. In. Out. Come on." It takes too long, Stiles is hyperventilating to the point where Derek fears she will be unconscious if this continues any longer. Then, without warning, her breathing evens out. It takes a second, but he can feel it building beneath his hands, in her body. She starts screaming, tears running freely as she fights against his hold. The pack are back now, having come inside just as her breathing began to even out, hovering and watching in fear.
"I can't! Can't do this. Let me go. Let me go." Stiles whines, and Derek buries his nose beneath her ear, nuzzling into her as she screams, cries and thrashes against him.
"Not letting go. We're here, Stiles. Pack. Take our strength, we're here. It's okay." The screams slow, until she is a limp body in his arms, heaving for breath and whimpering, trembling.
"No its not. It's not okay. It's not."