Reunited

The scent drew him back. Back from the preserve. Back from the dark. The second he'd caught it on the wind, Derek had turned and chased after it. Part of him knew it was likely an illusion, a lie his mind had conjured up because he wasn't ready to face the fact that he'd lost yet another person he loved.

Only, the closer he got to town, the stronger the scent became. He padded cautiously along Main Street; the tarmac rough on his paws. He should revert to his human form, he knew, but if this was a trap, he would have a faster escape on all fours.

Outside the Sheriff Station, Derek paused, lifting his snout to the air and inhaling deeply, filling his nose with the familiar scent he'd been craving for months now. It was so strong, and Derek's heart clenched. A howl clawed at his throat, tearing free to fill the silent night with an agonised noise.

Change. His mind demanded, Change and go inside. He's there. But the fear proved to much, a dark twisted lie that kept him bound to his wolf form, unable to open the door.

But the door opened anyway, a familiar form standing over him. "Derek?"

Looking up at Jackson, Derek tilted his head in a silent question, and his beta inclined his head. Slowly, Derek padded over the threshold, moving around the counter and towards the back offices. The further he went, the more real it became. Scent. Voice. Heartbeat. The fear began to slip away, taking the pain of loss with it and filling him with hope.

Then he was there.

Right in front of him.

Stiles stared, unmoving and Derek's fear began to inch back in. Did Stiles blame him? Of course, he would blame him. Derek had promised to keep Stiles safe. To keep him from Manticore. Derek was the Alpha but couldn't even protect the man he loved.

Suddenly, Derek was encased in warmth again, a tight crushing warmth that seeped into his very soul.

_(*-*)_

Stiles stared, his heart pounding harder than it had in forever. With his arms still around his father's shoulders he watched as Derek stopped a foot away, eyes wide and glistening in the overhead lights. Naked as the day he was born. Usually Stiles would make a joke, scan the beauty that was Derek Hale's magnificent body. But all he could think about or see was the man he'd fallen in love with, the man he'd fought to get back to, slowly crumbling.

Slipping from his father's hold, Stiles hurried forward, his own eyes filling with tears. He flung himself at Derek, wrapping the man in a tight crushing hug and buried his face into the crook of his neck.

Stiles chest tightened when Derek didn't move to hug him back, and he tightened his hold further, lifting his head to whisper pleadingly, "Derek?"

That was all it took it seemed, because a second later, two large arms wrapped themselves around him. "S-Stiles?"

"Yeah."

"You're here."

"I'm here, Sourwolf." Stiles replied thickly, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"You're real?"

Stiles huffed, leaning back to meet the confused, hopeful green of Derek's watery gaze. "If I'd known the best way to get you naked was to get my ass kidnapped, I'd have done it sooner." He winked, smirking softly.

Derek glared at him, unamused. Then he framed Stiles face and pulled him into a kiss. God, it felt so good, he'd forgotten how good. Wrapping his arms around Derek's neck once more, Stiles melted.

A cough sounded behind them, and Stiles groaned as Derek broke the kiss. He couldn't help but chase the werewolf's departing lips, his own making a fishy kissing motion. "No. Keep kissing." He muttered grumpily. "More kissing."

"Stiles." His dad sighed, and like that the bubble burst.

"Yeah Dad," Stiles grumbled, turning to face his father.

The Sheriff looked pointedly at him; brow raised. "While I appreciate, you're excited to see each other, I think Derek might perhaps want to put on some pants."

Stiles frowned, confused for a second before remembering. His head snapped around, and he finally allowed himself to take everything in. "Pants. Right. Naked Derek." He sighed dreamily, his eyes making a slow accent up Derek's body, before he snagged Derek's hand. "You guys just talk among yourselves." He said in a rush, tugging Derek along behind him towards the back where the staff changing rooms were. "Alec will catch you up on everything, right Alec."

"Stiles...!" John called after him.

"Be right back, Daddy-o. Just as soon as I've…."

They crashed through the changing room door, cutting off any more protests from his father.

"Stiles." Derek grunted out, "What are…?" Before he could say anything more, Stiles whirled around and threw himself at Derek, arms around his ribs and face pressed into the crook of Derek's neck.

_(*-*)_

Derek could feel the shaky breaths, and the dampness of tears. Could hear the frantic beat of Stiles heart. He followed Stiles lead and wrapped his arms around the younger man. He pressed his own face to Stiles throat and inhaled deeply, once again filling his senses with the teenager's scent, while curling his fingers into the fabric of Stiles jacket. Holding tight. Afraid to let go and have the man he loved slip away.

They stood there for what felt like forever, just holding on for dear life. Eventually Stiles lifted his head and met Derek's gaze, licking his lips nervously. Derek couldn't keep from following the progression of his tongue. "I thought I'd never see you again." Stiles confessed; his voice wrecked.

Derek swallowed thickly and cradled the teenager's head, "I would have found you. " He swore, "If it took me the rest of my life, I wouldn't have given up looking."

Stiles stared at him; eyes wide with surprise. "I..." He trailed off, uncertain what he wanted to say. So instead, Stiles moved his hand to the back of Derek's neck, pressing his warm trembling palm to the flesh, and slowly pulled Derek's mouth to his.

The kiss was gentle at first, the pair relearning how their mouths fit together, but eventually heat built up, and Derek found himself staggering back under the weight and desperation of Stiles body.

He hit the door with a swallowed ouf, the cool glass pressing against his bare heated back, and the rough wood digging into his arse. In his attempt to get away from the scratching of dried flaky paint, Derek arched his hips forward, which brought him in direct contact with Stiles.

The teenager let out a broken moan, that rumbled right through Derek's chest, as Stiles rocked his hips. The kiss deepened, Stiles tongue delving further into Derek's mouth, while one of the younger man's hands roamed down Derek's chest to curl around his hip, the right remaining securely on his neck.

Derek's own hands remained steadfastly in Stiles hair, gripping at the strands when Stiles began to rut against him. The moment was broken however when the door rattled behind them, and the very loud voice of Jackson cut through the silence.

"You guys done yet? The Sheriff's getting antsy. You can save the reunion sex for later! "

Stiles jerked away, panting and flushed, "Fuck." He swore breathlessly, his eyes fluttering around frantically. He dragged his fingers through his already messy hair, "Fuck, I can't believe we almost..." He muttered, then met Derek's gaze, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Fuck you Jackson. I was about to cross something off my bucket list."

Derek quirked a brow, "Oh yeah? "

Stiles grinned, shrugging, "Kinda. Close enough."

Pushing off the door, Derek padded over, lust still raging inside him. " Oh?"

"Fuck sake." Jackson groaned, delivering an angry kick to the door, before marching off. Derek could hear his muttered swearing as he went, but wasn't the least bit bothered. All he cared about at the moment was Stiles.

Stiles licked at his lips as Derek stopped, a hairs breadth between them. His eyes travelled down Derek's body and the werewolf shivered at the heat and the overpowering scent of arousal that filled his nostrils. "459." Stiles muttered.

Derek frowned, "What?"

Straightening his back, Stiles forced himself to take a step back, "459." He breathed, "days until we - can - have - fuck." He groaned, flinging himself back at Derek and crushing their mouths together.

Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles waist and pulled them tight together. He knew he should stop, remembering how he'd insisted they wait until Stiles was old enough, but that was before. Before he'd almost lost him. Now, the idea of waiting felt impossible. He couldn't think of wasting a single moment with this incredible man.

With a groan, Stiles broke the kiss, but didn't move out of Derek's embrace. Almost as if he were scared to let go. A feeling Derek very much shared, his own fingers gripping at Stiles hips tightly. Stiles let his forehead fall against Derek's and he inhaled deeply, eyes closing. "I was... he choked quietly, "...so - scared."

"Did they hurt you? " Derek demanded furiously. Stiles didn't need to say anything, the acidic hint to his scent was answer enough. Derek felt a growl build up in his chest, and the prickle of his gums as his teeth began to lengthen.

But then there was warmth. A large solid hand pressing into the back of his neck and squeezing, seeming to drain the fury out of him. "I should have been there." Derek growled out, his voice rough and thick with emotion. "I should have protected you."

Stiles sighed, his warm breath playing over Derek's lips, "There was nothing you could have done."

Wasn't there? Derek thought, "I should have been more..."

"More what? " The teenager huffed, drawing back to meet Derek's eyes. "If it was anyone's fault it was mine. I - I knew okay. I knew I was being followed and I didn't say anything."

Derek's brows shot up and his eyes flashed, "What? Why?" He all but growled out.

Stiles shrugged, dropping his gaze, "I don't know. Denial. Fear. - And we kinda had other things to worry about."

"You should have told me, Stiles. How am I meant to protect you…?"

"I don't need protecting!" Stiles snapped defensively.

"Clearly you do!"

"Dammit Derek, I'm not a kid, and I'm not one of your freggin' betas! " Stiles yelled, stepping away and turning his back.

Derek could smell the anger and frustration, and unsurprisingly, fear. Much like himself, Stiles hid his emotions, only where Derek used anger and intimidation to distract the world from seeing his pain, Stiles used sarcasm and humour. - But sometimes, the masked slipped.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Derek moved closer and wrapped his arms around Stiles waist from behind and rested his chin on the teenager's shoulder. "No," he whispered softly, "You're not. What you are, Stiles, is someone I... care about, deeply. And I don't want anything to happen to you." He turned his face into Stiles throat and savoured his scent, closing his eyes, before pressing a gentle kiss to the warm flesh. "We've always watched each other's back. Even when we hated each other."

"I never hated you. " Stiles confessed quietly, "I wanted to kill you," He added with a soft smile, turning his head to seek out Derek's gaze, "but I never hated you, Derek. I know you know that." He flushed, knowing fully what Derek's senses could pick up on, "Did you hate me?"

Derek's stomach twisted and his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice, how could...? "No." He breathed out, hand coming up to cradle Stiles head and draw him into a long slow kiss. When they drew apart, Derek held his gaze, "I could never hate you Stiles."

There was a long moment of silence. Stiles twisted in Derek's arms, his own slipping back around his waist, but Stiles being Stiles, the peaceful silence didn't last long. "Sorry about your girlfriend being a psychopath."

Derek stared at him, unimpressed. "Not like she's the first." He stated matter-of-factly.

There was a moment of tension, before a smug grin stretched across Stiles lips, "Lucky you've got me now."

Derek's heart gave a little flutter, "Yeah, and I don't intend on losing you again. So, you tell me next time your being followed, or feel uneasy or scared."

"And you'll scare them off?" Stiles whispered, the corner of his mouth lifting as he leant forward, lips mere inches away.

"Yes." Derek growled possessively while trying to close the gap, but Stiles drew away.

"Good, because we're pretty sure manticore are gonna come for us."

Derek frowned, "We? Us?"

Stiles nodded, taking Derek's hand and leading him to the door, "Time to meet the..." But Derek tugged him to a halt after a few steps, causing Stiles to look back at him with confusion and sadness. "What's wrong?"

A soft smile pulls at the corner of Derek's lips, and he draws Stiles back in, leaning forward until their lips hover inches apart once more, and whispered, "I'm still naked."

Stiles physically jolted at the reminder, pulling back and looking down. The tip of his tongue dragged across his lower lip, and Derek felt a renewed wave of heat engulf his body.

"Right. Yeah." Stiles muttered; eyes still fixed on Derek slowly hardening cock. The young man's heart hammered, harder and harder, and his breathing became shallow and laboured. His free hand hung at his side, fingers doing a weird flex/wiggle thing, as if they're itching to touch, and frankly, Derek wants to be touched. So badly. He still has Stiles hand in his own, and he uses it, a small tug that tries to bring Stiles a step closer, but the teenager resisted, shaking his head, "459. 459. 459. "

"Stiles?"

"We can't." He whispered, though it doesn't sound as if he's all that convinced. "We had an agreement." Stiles tore himself away and marched across the room, yanking open a locker. "In case of emergencies." He explained, tossing the grey sweats.

Derek caught them easily, "Stil...?"

"Hurry up, everyone is waiting, and Alec is as impatient as you."

Derek frowned, "Alec?"

Stiles paused on his way to the door, turning back, "He's my - uncle, I guess. I'll explain everything when your..." His eyes flickered over Derek's body again, "later." With that he continued to the door, "I'll be outside."

Derek watched Stiles vanish and feels his loss, which is ridiculous because he can still hear his heartbeat on the other side of the door. But he's not there, where Derek can see him, smell him, touch him, and it filled him with a dark fear he doesn't want to delve into. So instead he padded over to the bench and focused on getting dressed.

It barely took him a minute before he exited the changing room dressed in grey; Property of Beacon Hills Sheriff Station emblazed across his chest. Stiles was leaning casually against the wall alone, staring down at his hands, winding a stray thread around the tip of his index finger. Looking up, he gifted Derek with an amused smile. "Perfect." He announced, letting go of the thread and reaching for Derek's wrist. "We'll discuss why exactly you were wandering around town in your birthday suit later."

Without protest, Derek allowed himself to be dragged along the small corridor, the sound of angry raised voices catching his interest. "It's a long story." He muttered, twisting his wrist free of Stiles hold and hurrying past him. He rounded the corner to the sight of Jackson being held back by a struggling Ethan, while John used his body to shield an equally angry Chris. "What's going on!" Derek snapped, rushing into the fray, his hand going to the center of Jackson's chest. "Stop!" He roared.

"He's lost his mind." Argent yelled, hand on his gun. "Should have put him down…"

"Shut up!" Derek growled. "He has every right to want to rip you limb from limb."

Chris's eyes widened with shock, "Excuse me?"

Turning his back to his beta, Derek fixed the hunter with a murderous look, "We know what you did." He seethed, "Josephine."

The hunter paled instantly, his eyes flickering from Derek to Jackson as the room fell deathly silent. Derek could hear every heartbeat in the still room, each beating at its own pace. The air thickened with the scent of fear, anger and hurt. So strong it almost suffocated him.

"What does my sister have to do with…" He trailed off, meeting Jackson's gaze over Derek's shoulder, his eyes wide and searching. Then he began to shake his head, "No. – No possibly. The baby died."

Jackson snarled, "My twin died."

"Twin?" Stiles repeated confused, frowning from his place across the room. "What the hell?"

"Oh my god." Chris muttered, his body relaxing as he carefully pushed John aside. "Y-you're Joey and Peter's son. I – I had no…" he shook his head, "I swear, I had no idea. My father and Victoria took care of everything after the accident, I…"

Jackson's nose wrinkled, "It wasn't an accident. She was run of the road."

Chris's eyes widened in horror, "No. No."

"Yes." Derek said through gritted teeth, "By one of your SUVs."

"N…" Chris trailed off, looking from Jackson to Derek, to John, before his blue eyes grew cold as steel, his heartbeat becoming dangerously calm.

"Someone what to tell me what's going on here?" Stiles demanded, cutting through the dangerous silence.

"I've got to go." Chris said, meeting Jackson's flashing electric blue gaze. "I…" Whatever he wanted to say left unfinished. Instead marching for the door.

"Dad? Derek?"

Both men turned to Stiles. "It's part of that long story." Derek replied flatly.

Stiles opened his mouth to say more, only to be cut off when Alec emerged from the office just behind him. "They're on their way." Alec announced, startling Stiles.

He whipped around, taking a stumbling step back and banging his thigh into the corner of a desk. Derek's lips quirked of their own fruition and his heart swelled with joy at the sight of Stiles clumsiness. It was ridiculous the things he'd missed. With Argent gone, and Jackson calming, he headed over. "You okay?"

"Fuck, ouch." Stiles moaned, rubbing at his hip. "Son of a bitch. I'm going to have a bruise the size of Alaska." He grumbled angrily.

Leaning forward, Derek whispered, "I'll kiss it better later."

Stiles head snapped around, eyes darkening as they met Derek's. The tip of his tongue peeped out to run between his lips, before he whispered, "459."

Derek smirked, then turned away to focus on the stranger, who was stood impatiently glowering at them. "You were saying?"

"No, please." Alec huffed, waving his hands, "Carry on flirting, we'll wait. I mean, its fine. It's just Manticore coming to kill us all."

Derek stiffened at the mention of the government group, jaw tightening as he glared at the man, "How do you know they're coming?"

Alec shrugged, "Well, it could be because its fucking obvious." He snapped, "Or possibly because while you two were getting frisky in the changing rooms, I was on the radio tracing troop movements, and calling in back-up."

"Back up?" Stiles frowned, "Who? From where?"

Alec turned his gaze from Derek, "From all over. I've been in communication with Father or years."

"Father?" John frowned, stepping up to Derek's side.

"Our father. The man responsible for creating us." Alec clarified.

"Sandeman."

John turned wide eyes to his son. "The man who…"

Stiles shook his head, "What mom told us, it… - it wasn't… - the truth." He said, voice breaking under the weight of the words.

"I know." John replied softly, holding his son's gaze.

There was a moment of uncomfortable tension as the pair stared at each other, Derek trapped between them. He turned at the sound of the station doors opening and then rushing feet. Twisting around fully, waiting, hands shifted at his side, Derek prepared to fight. To protect Stiles. – In the corner, Jackson and Ethan took up defensive positions.

"Derek?"

"We have…"

"Coach?" Jackson and Stiles frowned as Finstock burst through the door, another man behind him.

"Tate?" John announced, looking between the pair with confusion.

"Where's my daughter?" Henry Tate demanded.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it's been so long.