Chapter 28
They spent the morning on the couch with new episodes of Orange is the New Black.
Skye made Derek take several more pills of Vicodin, because his enhanced metabolism made the effect wear off very quickly and she knew he was in pain, even though he did his best to conceal it, and kissed him whenever she felt like it, which was a lot – because, really, kissing him had been all she wanted to do for weeks.
If it wasn't for what had happened in the last few days, for the mysterious group threatening them and for Derek being hurt, this was what she would imagine a perfectly happy morning to look like – sitting on the couch, snuggled into Derek's side, his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders. Around eleven or twelve, they both dozed off – Derek probably due to being weak and hurt, Skye because she hadn't slept all night – and awoke just before two, only half an hour before the time she'd agreed with Scott to meet at Deaton's clinic.
Derek's leg still looked far from healed, but he insisted he could walk – which he indeed could, though with a heavy limp and an expression of pain on his face that he tried his best to hide but Skye could see anyway. She slipped her hand into his on the way down; half because she feared his leg would simply give in, half because touching him was weirdly calming.
He groaned quietly as he slowly lowered himself into the passenger seat and Skye shot him a worried gaze, to which he rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, Skye." he said, but he didn't sound annoyed, more like he wanted to calm her. "It takes a lot more to knock me down."
She leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the lips and didn't believe him for a second.
He was downplaying what had happened to him – like he did so frequently when they talked about his family – and even though his physical wounds would heal, she wasn't so sure about what emotional damage the torture had done. She had seen the look in his eyes when he had talked about it – pain, guilt, fear – and she knew that this would only make the nightmares he already had worse. God, how she wished she could take this from him.
The drive to Deaton's animal clinic didn't take long, and neither of them talked much. Skye was deep in her thoughts, already making up plans and strategies for what to do if this mysterious pack attacked – when, really; it was only a matter of time now – and she was pretty sure Derek's thoughts were drifting into the same direction, because his face was the hardened mask it had been when they'd gone to confront Hardy.
When they got out of the car, Skye slipped her hand into his and Derek gave her a weak smile. "We're going to be okay." she said.
Derek didn't say anything and she knew he didn't believe her – and honestly, she didn't fully believe herself.
Derek looked like shit.
That was the first thing Stiles thought when the older werewolf entered. He was limping heavily, his leg evidently pretty messed up, and he moved very carefully, as if every movement hurt. The look on his face was even grumpier than usual – no, grumpy wasn't the right word. Haunted, maybe? Yes, Stiles decided, Derek looked haunted.
He felt a wave of sympathy and then relief – feelings he saw mirrored on Skye's face as she entered behind Derek. She flashed him a quick smile and Stiles smiled back, understanding the message behind it. Thank you for helping me look for him. Thank you for not giving up on him.
"Thank god you're okay." That was Isaac, and Stiles knew that the young werewolf was being honest. Along with himself and Skye, Isaac had probably been the one most sincerely worried about Derek. With Scott and the former Alpha, it was more of a love-hate-relationship, Allison definitely wasn't a fan, and with Lydia Stiles never really knew.
Derek's lips twisted into something that was probably supposed to be a smile but looked more like a grimace, but before he could say anything, Scott asked: "Who took you, Derek? What did they want?"
Stiles thought it was a little insensitive of Scott to come at Derek like that, to demand information before even asking if he was okay, but he understood why his best friend was doing it. He was the Alpha; he needed to protect his pack, and protecting the pack meant to get as much information about the impending attack as possible – and Stiles was realistic enough to know for sure that an attack would come.
Derek seemed to understand it too – maybe better than Stiles; after all, he had been an Alpha as well – because he didn't seem offended by Scott's questions. Instead, his whole body tensed for a second, a barely detectable movement, before he started talking.
"They surprised me on my way to Skye's." he said quietly. "They drugged me – wolfsbane, I think – and took me to some sort of warehouse. There were three of them, two men, one woman. The men were werewolves, but I'm not sure about the woman. I think she was a druid. She had all sorts of drugs and poisons."
He paused for a moment and Stiles knew him well enough by now to realize that he was trying to keep his composure. With a hint of surprise, he noticed Skye's hand slipping into Derek's but didn't say anything as the former Alpha started talking again.
"They tortured me to get information about the pack. When I didn't talk, they threatened…" He stopped talking mid-sentence, but the quick glance towards Skye and the way he instinctively stepped in front of her told Stiles exactly what they had threatened to do. Derek's demeanor only confirmed what the way Skye had acted had already told him – their relationship went much deeper than either of them admitted.
Derek cleared his throat and continued. "I don't know how I did it, but I turned completely. I fought them, got out somehow. I remember running away, but everything's a blur after that."
Skye jumped in, filling in the blanks. "I found him outside of my apartment, still as a wolf. He turned back and I stitched him up. I didn't think about calling until you called, Scott. It was…" She hesitated for a second, swallowed hard, then she said: "He was pretty badly hurt. I think it was touch and go for a while."
Stiles' gaze wandered to Derek, who was looking at Skye with a look on his face he had never seen on him before. It was a mixture of guilt, worry and – well, the way Scott looked at Allison. The way his dad had looked at his mom. The way he had once looked at Lydia. Like she was the single most amazing being in the whole world.
"Were they looking for any particular information?" Scott asked.
Derek shook his head. "Not really. They wanted to know about the pack members, how many there are, what they can do… stuff like that."
Stiles snorted. "They probably want to know what they have to go up against before they can get to their scavenging business." he said, remembering what Lydia had told them about her vision. "Probably, yeah." Scott replied, but before he could say anything else, Skye interrupted him.
"What did you say?" Her face had turned pale and she looked as if she had realized something horrible. "What did you say, Stiles?" she asked again, more urgently this time. "Why did you say they're going to get to their scavenging business?"
He looked at her confused, not knowing what she was getting at. "Because that's what Lydia said they came here to do." he replied. "To hunt, kill and scavenge."
Skye drew in a trembling breath, and the feeling that something was terribly wrong started building up inside of Stiles as she turned to Derek. "Did they tell you their names?" she asked.
Derek nodded, appearing as confused as Stiles was. "Yes. Dmitri, Eli and Savannah. Why?"
A string of curses in a foreign language left Skye's lips, not unlike those Stiles had heard her use during their search for Derek, before she turned to look at the again, a look on her face that, frankly, scared Stiles a little – it reminded him of a soldier ready to go into a battle he couldn't win.
"Because I think I know who they are." she said. "And if I'm right, we have a giant problem."
