The end of good days

"Hey, Stiles, can you give me a lift into town?"Scott obviously really wanted to go since he'd pulled out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes, a shy little half smile, and the endearing tilt of his head. This combination always convinced Stiles to go along with whatever madcap scheme or plan Scott devised. In this case, however, a trip into town was exactly what Stiles needed since he wanted to get away from the house for a little while, so he quickly agreed.

Things had been awkward between him and Derek since the Christmas kiss, though everything seemed the same on the surface. They still ate breakfast side by side, Derek managing to slyly slip his bacon to Stiles, and there was still their usual casual touches and smiles, but he could feel the awkwardness in the lingering silences. The memory of the incredibly hot mistletoe kiss haunted them as surely as a ghost.

The pack wasn't helping either. They all walked around with smug grins on their faces, wiping them instantly clean whenever Derek looked their way. Stiles knew that somewhere on the Hale property there was a betting pool. Hell, Stiles was ready to put his own money down because come New Year's Eve he was planning on standing right next to Derek at the stroke of midnight.

"You're quiet." Scott commented, his leg bouncing with energy. "What are you thinking so hard about?"

"Just counting all the kissing holidays. There's Christmas and New Years Eve. I guess Valentine's Day counts but that's about it."

"Okay, that's totally random." Not when I'm planning to kiss Derek, Stiles thought.

Scott directed Stiles through town toward the industrial center. "What do you need out here?" The area was filled with warehouses, most of which looked deserted and run down. Not the best neighborhood.

"We're almost there. It's just around that corner."Scott continued to fidget, a nervous habit he had when he was in trouble. Or lying.

"Scott? What's going on?"

"Nothing! It's right over there."Scott hopped out of the jeep as soon as it stopped, running around to practically pull Stiles from the driver's side door. "Let's go."

Stiles had only taken a few steps when four men exited the building, walking quickly their way. Unease pooled in the pit of Stiles' stomach and he tried to pry his arm out of Scott's grasp, wanting nothing more than to leave, but his friend merely tightened his unbreakable grip and it was one of the few times Stiles' cursed Scott's werewolf strength. Once the strangers reached them, Scott smiled happily and introduced them, "Trevor, Mike, this is Stiles."

The shorter man grabbed a hold of Stiles' arm and pushed up his sleeve, reveling his Hunter's brand. A huge smile crossed the man's face showing yellowed, crooked teeth. "Welcome brother."

"Hunters? Scott you brought us to hunters? What the hell is wrong with you?" Stiles desperately tried to pull away again, but was caught between Scott and the hunters. Changing tactics, he kicked sideways at the taller man, knocking him back a couple of feet.

"I don't need this shit" The yellowed tooth hunter pulled a black pistil looking weapon out of the back of his jeans and aimed it at Stiles. Seconds later, Stiles was on the ground, his body arching and twitching in agony from the volts of the Taser.

With his vision fading in and out, the edges of the world blurring and undefined, Stiles could do little as the hunters lifted him and brought him into the building, tossing him onto a grimy mattress inside a small room that was once an office and locked inside.

Stiles let the sounds of voices wash over him like angry waves on a beach a nagging sense of urgency tugged at the recesses of his brain but he could not seem to latch onto it long enough to pull himself out of the haze.

His eyes blinked slowly, the shadows from the small window lengthening across the back wall. Between one long blink and another, a worried Scott appeared at the foot of the mattress.

"How are you feeling?"

"Hunters, Scott they're hunters. You're gonna get yourself killed." Stiles pushed himself weakly onto his elbows, then slowly to a sitting position, body screaming with every move. "Why would you do this?"

"We are hunters Stiles. How can you just leave behind everything you were raised to be?"

Stiles looked at Scott as if he had never seen him before. A complete stranger sat before him on the dirty mattress. "I left it all behind for you. Scott, these hunters will kill you."

"You're wrong. Allison knows I'm not a true wolf. Even tainted, I can still be a hunter. Chris says that my being turned is the best way to infiltrate the packs and help the hunters regain the upper hand with these monsters."

"Oh God! Scott, you're going to attack the Hale pack. They took us in. Damn it Scott, they saved us, saved you. How can you betray them?"

Scott pulled him into a quick hug ignoring the way Stiles stiffened in his embrace. "It's okay. I explained it to them. I don't know how Derek brainwashed you so quickly but once they are dead you will feel better."

Stiles pushed Scott backwards; surging to his feet with fists clinched and face red with betrayal. "I'm not brainwashed you moron! Do you have any idea, any fucking idea how close we were to not making it? How close you were to losing it and going rogue? Derek saved us! And now, now you are turning your back on him and leading a group of hunters right to his door. Do you hate yourself so much that you have to destroy everything that is good to punish us? How can you say they are monsters after becoming a werewolf yourself? You're not a monster and neither are they."

Amber eyes flashed as a growling Scott pinned Stiles to the wall, "I'm a monster Stiles. We all are. But at least I can make this right. You would know that if you weren't so caught up in your emotions."

"What emotions? Gratitude? Thankfulness? Relief that I'm not half starved or fear that my best friend is going to eat me one full moon? What emotion am I so caught up in that I am missing how your betrayal is such a good thing?"

"Love. You love him, Stiles. If you weren't so blinded by that you would see that I'm right about this."

Stiles sank to the ground, released from Scott's grip. "You of all people are saying that to me. When did you start feeling this way? You've changed since you met Allison, you were so ready to fit in but it was all just a ruse. Scott, how could you do this? The Pack has been nothing but kind to us and you are betraying them."

Shaking his head sadly, Scott turned from Stiles and walked out of the room. "You'll see. Once this is over, you will see that I'm right. Chris has already offered you a place in his troop after tonight goes down. Everything will be just like before. You just need to trust me." Scott locked the door, leaving Stiles behind.

Stiles listened at the door while Scott and the hunters made the final adjustments to their attack plans. Now all of Scott's sudden interest in training and running the perimeters made sense. How could I have missed it? He's been planning this for weeks.

Part of him wanted to scream as Scott left with the hunters, beg his friend to reconsider, to stop this murderous course of action but he held himself in check. With a quick glance around the small room, Stiles realized that Scott had underestimated him. Thank God!

Lock picking was one of those skills that he had been both proud and ashamed of mastering. He went to work pulling the fraying thread from the mattress and exposing the springs beneath. As soon as the hunters left he could start working on the lock. All he had to do was free himself, stop a massacre, and save his idiot best friend

It took longer than Stiles expected to work free the spring. Hurry, hurry, hurry chanted the little voice inside his head, as the sky darkened and his hand became slick with sweat as he desperately worked at picking the lock.

With a final click the knob turned and Stiles was free to sprit toward his jeep, keys fumbling from his pocket.

Finding the hunters and the pack was easier that Stiles had thought as he drove franticly toward the preserve. All he had to do was follow the howls and as he came closer, the screams. As it was, he was almost too late.

Trevor, the yellowed tooth bastard, was impaled upon the lowest branch of a tree, his body still twitching slightly as he died, blood dripping down to the leaves below. What was left of Mike, Stiles thought it was Mike because the bloody mass was wearing the same clothes, was spread in large pieces across the rocky outcrop.

Allison was kneeling by her pale father, tears streaking her face as she pointed her last arrow at a snarling Jackson and Isaac. Boyd and Erica had made short work of the remaining two nameless hunters and Scott, he was hanging limply from Derek's claws, blood pooling from his mouth and nose.

"No!" it was a shout of pure anguish, leaving Stiles' throat raw from its force. "Derek, oh God, Derek, don't. Please let him go. Please Derek, please!" Stumbling across the bloody ground, Stiles caught Derek by the elbow, tugging his arm to release his friend.

Red eyes, full of rage and hate locked onto Stiles. With a tossing motion, Derek released Scott, dropping him at his feet and reached out to encircle Stiles' neck with his claw tipped hands. "Traitor."

"I'm not. Derek, I'm not." He didn't struggle against Derek's grip, standing resolutely before his alpha. His heart felt like ground glass within his chest as his watched Derek's eyes fill with disgust.

"Take your brother," the word was spat like venom, "and leave. You have twenty four hours. After that we will kill every hunter in Beacon Hills." The push had Stiles sprawling out on the forest floor, watching, soul screaming, as his pack vanished into the forest.

Scott groaned, legs scraping weakly against the dirt and leaves. "Allison? Where are you?"

Dragging himself to his feet, Stiles helped Scott hobble over to Allison. The huntress was curled protectively around her father, cradling his head in her lap. "He won't wake up." Her voice was thready, one's first battle could be a shock to the system and the dark haired girl was not handling it well.

"His heart beat is strong. Let's get him back to your house, he will be fine." Even bloody and torn, Scott managed to lift the unconscious hunter and carry him to the dark colored SUV as Allison trailed behind.

Scott and Chris took the back seat, the wolf watching over his love's father who slowly came to as they drove back to town. "Twenty - four hours. That's how long Derek is giving you to leave town before he comes to finish you off." Stiles met the older man's eyes in the rearview mirror. "If I were you, I wouldn't waste any time. Pack and get out."

Allison pulled the vehicle into the large garage and helped her Dad out. Scott hovered, trying to stay as close to her as possible, either protecting or apologizing for the failed hunt, Stiles didn't care which. He watched her eyes, flickering back and forth between Scott and her father, the way she shifted her weight so that she leaned away from Scott, away from the werewolf who had sacrificed everything for her.

Packing up the household of the Argents took less than fifteen minutes. Two duffle bags apiece, a huge amount of cash from a hidden safe, and most time consuming, the emptying of the weapons case. Scott loaded the last of the bags into the car. "Stiles, let's go."

Stiles didn't move, still rooted in the same spot by the back of the garage that he had been in since they pulled in. "I'm not going Scott. This is my home."

"He'll kill you. He won't care about anything you try to tell him. He will just kill you in cold blood."

Stiles shrugged in reply. Numb was good.

Allison slid into the front followed by her father. Scott reach for the backseat door handle but was cut off by the sharp click of a gun being cocked. "Not you." Chris' cold blue eyes stared at Scott from behind the steering wheel.

How could he have not seen this coming? Scott was an idiot.

"Allison," pleaded Scott. "Talk to him." Stiles watched as the dark haired beauty ripped his friend's heart out with four short words:"I never loved you."

With a squeal of tires that left rubber skid marks on the concrete floor, the Argents pulled out leaving the boys broken hearted and alone.

Stiles watched Scott crumble to the garage floor his shoulders slumping in defeat. "She never loved me."

Stiles wanted to hate him, to rub his pain in like salt to a wound but this was Scott, friend, brother, family, so he wrapped him in a hug instead.

"I'm sorry Stiles. I'm so, so sorry." And the beta, no he was a beta no longer; just a lowly omega now, clung to Stiles. "What will we do now?"

Stiles placed his hand on the crown of Scott's head, as if to forgive him of his sins. "Survive. We will survive."

AN: Sorry for the delay. Special thanks go out to Sunshineditty who, as usual, is the most awesome of betas. You turn my straw into gold! Thank you for all the reviews and comments. I love the comments!