Stiles-

Everything is a blur beside me as I run, faster than I ever have before through the woods. Trees rush by in swatches of green and brown, tinted red by the shade of color placed over my vision. I can hear Scott yelling, all the way back at his house. I hear the deer eating a hundred yards away. I hear cars rushing by on the highway, miles from where I am. I hear everything.

"DEREK!"

I stop running immediately. The voice that just came from my throat isn't mine. It's ferocious, a growl of a predator- not the sound of a pale, skinny human. It's the sound of absolute, undeniable power.

Maybe I should test this out. I feel air rushing in my chest as I inhale, my lungs inflating to the point of bursting before I release an earth-shattering howl into the deep forest.

After the sound stops ringing through the woods, I cock my head to the right and listen. The reply comes almost a full minute later, a weak, mournful howl far to the left. I would recognize that howl anywhere.

The world is blurring again as I run, following the echoes of Derek's response through the preserve and up to the riverbank. Which is where I see him, sitting in the mud, head in his hands… shaking.

I stand by the edge of the forest and watch him for a few moments, observing the dirt on his clothes, under his fingernails, in his hair. My blood is all over his shirt and pants. He's obviously been out here for days, not even going home to change. I take a hesitant step forward.

"Derek." My voice is softer now, not quite as soft as how it used to be but not nearly as intense as it had been before. He doesn't move but I can hear his breath hitch as I take another step.

"Derek, look at me. Please." I've walked all the way up to the riverbank, standing directly behind him before squatting down to rest on the backs of my calves. He hasn't moved, hasn't taken a breath since I called out his name. I slowly reach a hand forward and place it on his shoulder, which is when he finally looks up at me. I can't help but let out a gasp.

His eyes are completely red, not just in the irises but also the whites. There's dried blood all over his face, my blood, with small clear lines snaking their way down to his chin from his tears. But the most shocking thing is the look of absolute emptiness in his eyes. He looks as if someone literally took away his soul and left him just a walking shell.

Before I can even think I'm holding him in my arms, squeezing tighter than I have ever been able to as I stroke his hair with one hand and his back with the other. His arms don't move, just stay limply at his sides while I hug him with complete assurance. Only he's still not moving, at all, besides his breathing.

I hold him away from my face, just slightly, before I realize just how empty he really is. If werewolves can be in shock, then Derek's currently being electrocuted. I pick him up around the waist so he's standing beside me, still unable to move or look around. I pull his arm around my shoulder and start the slowand long walk back to Scott's, calling Deaton on the way.

xxx

It's almost evening before I finally walk Derek up the steps to Scott's house. Before I even have a chance to knock the door is flung open, and Derek's weight is suddenly lifted from my side by the hands of three able-bodied werewolves as I sink to my knees on the floor and pass out from exhaustion.

When I wake up again it's dark, but surprisingly I can see everything around me with sort of an amber glow. Oh right, werewolf powers. I reach to stretch out my arm when it bumps something on the bed beside me. I growl low in my throat, defensive instincts kicking in before I realize that I'm safe and at Scott's. I shift my eyes beside me to the sleeping body of a now-clean Derek, wearing only a pair of my boxers and one of Scott's larger shirts.

"Once you got him home, we cleaned him off and got him into the bed beside you. Deaton said that he was in a psychotic state from the lack of sleep these last five days."

I look up at Scott, sitting beside the bed on Derek's side. He shifted before looking directly into my eyes to continue speaking.

"Deaton also found evidence that he had been hurting himself. Ripping gashes down his arms, clawing himself wherever he could. The skin was healed but the underneath was still mending. He's safe now Stiles, thanks to you."

I look over the perfect body lying next to me, taking in every bump and ridge on his beautiful creamy skin. The fact that he had tried to hurt himself is unthinkable to me. Wrapping my arms around him, I pull him into my chest and inhale his musky scent, a mix of woods and ginger that fills my lungs like a drug. My drug.

"What's he gonna be like when he wakes up?"

Scott glances over to the door where I notice Deaton has been standing for a few moments now.

"Once he sleeps off the state he's in, he's most likely going to revert to his original state of mind from after your accident. Guilt, terror, hatred at himself. Although seeing you alert and breathing may calm the intensity of these feelings somewhat."

Shit. This isn't going to be easy. My body shifts slightly as I feel him move beneath my arms, listen to his heartbeat begin to accelerate. I have to be quick.

"How long were we both out?"

"About a day."

"Does he know where he is?"

"Maybe. We can't know for sure."

"Is he going to get violent?"

Deaton pauses. "Maybe."

Hot breath blows across my cheek as Derek wakes up, opening his eyes and looking straight into mine for only a second before he completely breaks down and starts to cry.

"Stiles… You need to go." His words conflict with his body though, because he's holding my face in his hands like he's afraid that if he lets go, I'll be gone.

"I'm not going anywhere Derek. I still love you. This wasn't your fault."

His hands drop to my shoulders as he pushes me up and off of him, gently but firmly enough to get the job done. "This was my fault. I lost control and killed you. I KILLED you, Stiles. You were dead. I can't…"

He can't finish his sentence through the emotion catching in his throat. I lean down slowly and place a soft kiss on his lips. He doesn't move, doesn't kiss me back at all. I feel hands on my face, pushing me off before I feel his body weight leave the bed.

"I'm so sorry for everything Stiles. I love you so much. But I can't do this anymore. I told you that I hurt everyone I love. Everyone."

I open my mouth to respond but I'm too late, my words choking off in my throat as the door slams and Derek leaves, taking half of me with him.

Sorry if the updates aren't every day now guys, I just moved into my dorm and classes start tomorrow! I'll still be updating as often as humanly possible though, so thanks for sticking with me! Also, thank you for all the positive reviews, I love hearing what you guys think and they give me inspiration to keep writing as often as I am. Love you guys.