"We can't leave them here." Stiles was barely conscious, hanging in Derek's arms, and if it hadn't been for Erica calling out to Derek, he would have forgotten about the others. Everything hurt and he just wanted to sink to the bottom of the lake, sink into Derek, and forget about the pain. But now Stiles lifted his head and blinked with his good eye over to where the two werewolves were still hanging by the chains.
"I don't know who you are or how you got here but don't leave us here, man," Boyd pleaded through gritted teeth, there was still high voltage running through his body, making his muscles spasm.
"We have to take them with us," Stiles told Derek who on his own wouldn't have spared the werewolves a second thought. But with some prompting from Stiles, Derek carefully lowered him to the ground, which his broken ribs and dislocated shoulder did not like, and stepped over to the controls.
One touch with his watery hand and the lights went out. In the sudden darkness, Stiles was unable to see anything but his vision had been blurry at best anyway. Judging by the sound of falling chains, however, the werewolves were free now.
"I can't tell how many there are," Erica whispered from where Stiles thought were the stairs.
"We're not going up there." Stiles scrambled up to a more sitting position. He bit back a scream when something sharp shifted in his chest. Punctured lung sounded fun, the highlight of this crappy day.
"It's the only way out." Boyd's voice came out of the darkness. Slowly Stiles' eyes were adjusting to the poor light, he was able to make out his silhouette against the darkness. "Except for wherever he came from. Who are you anyway?"
"And what did you do to that hunter?" Erica asked.
Stiles tasted blood in the back of his throat and he was breathing shallowly, if due to the approaching panic attack or if he really had a punctured lung he didn't know, maybe it was just because of the broken ribs, but he was more than ready to leave all of that behind.
A wet hand curled around his torso and immediately Stiles sank into Derek's strong arms.
"I'll take you with me," Derek said to the werewolves. "When we're there, swim to the surface and get out of the lake as fast as you can."
"What do you mean?" Erica asked but Stiles already felt the pull.
"Take a deep breath," Derek said and Stiles closed his eyes, just a second now. He felt the familiar rush through the pipes and then he was sinking to the bottom of the lake. With a sigh, Stiles let got.
Derek was with him but after just a few seconds he left.
"Don't." Stiles reached for him but Derek was already gone.
Distantly he remembered Boyd and Erica and a part of him wondered if they had made it out of the lake before Derek came after them but he was sinking fast and nothing was important any longer.
At some point, Derek was back but Stiles couldn't tell if it had been minutes or hours.
"Did you kill them?" Stiles asked. He didn't want Derek to kill anybody. Not because he particularly cared about the werewolves, he was more worried about Derek. Stiles had already forced him to kill a hunter, not that Derek had needed much encouragement, one look at Stiles and he'd been more than ready to kill that man, Stiles didn't want to burden him with more deaths.
"Peter got them out of the water quick enough." Derek curled around him.
"Peter's here?" Stiles perked up, tempted to go up to the surface, but that move alone sent sharp lances of pain through his whole body. When Derek pulled him back, Stiles sank with him without resistance. Peter had to wait.
"He left your phone in your cabin," Derek mumbled into his ear. "He and John are waiting for your call."
"In a bit." Stiles snuggled closer and let go completely.
When Stiles came to again, he felt good. His body had regenerated itself, there was no pain not even a lingering ache in his bones. Derek didn't stir when Stiles wound himself out of his embrace which was good. Stiles didn't want to talk about what had happened and for sure he didn't want to face Derek's guilt. At least this time Derek didn't kill some innocent teenager, maybe that helped.
It was dark when Stiles broke through the surface. If it was still the same day or a week later, he couldn't tell but he was in no hurry to find out. He had to call John and Peter, just to let them know that he was okay, but he feared their questions. He did not want to think about what had happened. Just thinking that he didn't want to think about it let cold sweat break out on his skin.
Stiles hurried to get out of the water and into his cabin, he needed to change into dry clothes. However, he doubted that the cold he was feeling in his bones was because of the cold water.
Once he was dressed, Stiles crawled under the blankets and checked his phone. Past eleven but it was still the same day.
I'm topside, he wrote to John. He kind of hoped that it would be enough but of course a second later his phone rang with John's name on the display.
"Stiles, thank God," John said the second Stiles answered. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine." Stiles clung to the phone pressed to his ear. Suddenly his chest felt tight and he had to blink against the tears. "Are Boyd and Erica alright?"
Sensing that Stiles was not ready to talk about it, and he loved John for that, John told him what had happened while Stiles had been under.
Boyd and Erica were safe and sound, a bit shaken but back in the safety of their pack and John was confident that they would recover quickly. However, Peter had to tell them about Derek and with that about Stiles as well but Stiles should ask Peter about the details. Stiles wanted to text him next anyway.
The good news was that one of Peter's contacts had found the place where the hunters had taken them. The van had still been in the driveway of the hunting cabin they had used.
"We found the body," John said. "The hunters must have left in a hurry when they noticed that you and the others were gone and that one of them was dead."
"Must have freaked them out." Stiles chuckled to himself but it felt forced.
"Do you want to come over?" John asked. "Or I can come out to the cabin."
It was tempting. Stiles didn't want to be alone, not tonight. But John was not the person he wanted to have around right now.
"I would rather have Peter here tonight," Stiles admitted after a long second. "If that's okay with you."
"Of course," John agreed quickly, maybe a bit too quickly. "He's worried about you."
"Can I come over tomorrow?" Stiles asked in a small voice. Not long ago John had been the person he would have come to. He didn't want that to change, John was still the most important person in his life, not counting Derek, but Peter had become a close second and at the moment he was the one he needed more.
"Stiles." John let out a fond sigh. "You can come over anytime, you know that. I'm just glad that you're okay. If you need Peter more than me tonight, that's okay. I'm here for you, that will never change."
They had never been big on words but Stiles heard the I love you behind those words.
"Thanks, Dad."
Now it was John who was choking on tears but Stiles ended the call with a good feeling.
Stiles took a moment to collect himself before he shot Peter a message. If he could come over? Stiles wasn't sure if he would even see his message, maybe he was already sleeping. What if Peter couldn't come over? Or didn't want to? Stiles didn't want to be alone tonight but he would not crawl back to John after he'd declined his offer. He was not that desperate.
However, a second later Peter answered: On my way.
Stiles let out a breath.
Should I bring food? Peter asked.
Stiles couldn't even remember when he'd last eaten, breakfast most likely but that had been ages ago. Being under put things like that on hold, he didn't need to eat or sleep while he was under, but now he was craving something sweet.
Bring sugar, he wrote. Lots of sugar.
Stiles put the phone away and drew the blanket over his head, maybe he could get warm until Peter was here. He made himself as small as possible, slung his arms around his knees, and closed his eyes. It helped with the shaking but the cold was still deep in his bones and with nothing else to occupy his mind, his thoughts circled back to earlier. Boyd and Erica going down and the hunter coming for him. Stiles had known what would happen seconds before the man had knocked him out.
Just like then. Knocked out. And when he'd woken up, he'd been bound and helpless. At least this time he'd only been beaten to pulp and not drowned, that was better, right?
"Stiles?"
The heap of blankets dipped when Peter sat down next to him.
Stiles had his back to him with the blanket over his head and he was not ready to change that.
Peter put a hand on his shoulder but didn't force him to turn around.
"I was worried," Peter admitted.
"Don't want to be alone," Stiles mumbled into his knees.
"You don't have to."
The hand on his shoulder was a heavy weight, grounding, comforting.
"The ice cream is melting," Peter said out of nowhere. "Do you want some or shall I put it in the freezer?"
"Maybe later." Ice cream sounded good but for that, he would have to unfold.
"Be right back." The hand left his shoulder and a second later Stiles heard the door of the fridge. It was only a small one, he didn't need much out here, but it had a small freezer.
With the ice cream taken care of, Peter was back at his side but instead of sitting down again, he stretched out behind Stiles and tugged at the blanket until he could slip under it. Spooning Stiles from behind he slung his arm around him.
"Okay?" Peter asked and when Stiles nodded, he drew him close until Stiles' back was pressed against his chest.
"You're warm," Stiles mumbled when the warmth started to seep into his back.
It took a few minutes but eventually, Stiles uncurled until he was lying stretched out in Peter's arms.
"He didn't ask Boyd or Erica any questions," Stiles broke the silence. "He wanted to know about my connection to the pack but in the end, he didn't care. He just wanted to hurt me." It was so pointless.
"They wanted Boyd and Erica." Peter pretended to not feel the sobs shaking Stiles' whole body for which Stiles was grateful. "We think they took you just because you were there."
"Figured that much." It still hurt. They had abducted and tortured him just because he'd been at the wrong place at the same time. "Story of my life."
"They made a big mistake taking you." Peter's breath ghosted over his neck. "One of them drowned in that basement and they don't have a clue what happened."
"Derek tends to leave that impression." Stiles couldn't help the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He rolled to his back to which Peter propped himself up on his elbow, looking down on him.
"Did you bring more sugar than ice cream?" Stiles asked. He wanted sugar and he didn't want to talk about this any longer.
"I have chocolate," Peter offered. His eyes were in the shadows but the way he was looking at Stiles … Stiles bathed in that gaze. He doubted that Peter was looking at anybody else like this.
"Kiss me," Stiles demanded. "And then feed me chocolate."
Peter studied him for a moment longer but then he leaned in and brought their lips together. It was gentle, almost chaste, and over way too quickly. But then Peter was back with chocolate which he fed to him piece by piece. Stiles moaned around the sweet goodness in his mouth and the next kiss they shared was way more heated and full of chocolate.
