C.R.E.A.M (Chaos rules everything around me)

He knew they were in trouble the second he stepped outside. The night air was thick with unfamiliar scents. A lot of them. Too many to accurately count, but they were most definitely outnumbered. Derek's stomach clenched tightly, and fear spread through his veins like a wolf's bane.

"Keep them out of the house, if it kills you." He announced.

And then they were right there, racing out from the tree line, bullets flying past Derek's head. He ducked and weaved at speed, until he was within touching distance of an attacker, then he was swiping at them with claws and throwing punches with all his supernatural strength. The night echoing with the sound of pained cries and breaking bones.

A bullet burrowed its way into his shoulder, but it didn't slow him, he kept on fighting. The warm human blood coated his hands, but Derek tried not to think about the human lives he was taking. His sole focus had to be keeping them away from the house. Away from Stiles.

His eyes flashed a blazing red and he let out an ear piercing roar while leaping at one of the soldiers. He landed on the man's chest, driving him to the ground, then clamped his jaws down on the man's through, shaking his head as he tore at fabric and flesh until blood soaked his fur. With one final yank, Derek twisted his mussel, ripping the throat clear away.

He dropped what was left on the ground beside the bloodied corpse and raced off to his next enemy.

_(*_*)_

Fighting in close quarters proved to be a challenge, with little room, it wasn't surprising that they were quickly backed into a corner.

The basement was quickly becoming overwhelmed with bodies, alive and dead. Out of the corner of Stiles' eye, he saw Theo head for the chairs. In hindsight, Stiles wondered if perhaps he should have forced Allison and Chris into the chamber with Lydia and the others, but that would give them access to the Nemeton, and if they were working with Manticore, well...it was a risk they couldn't have taken.

As he ducked out of the way of a fist, twisting his body to deliver a hard blow to his attackers' knee, he saw Chris and Allison get to their feet. Stiles didn't get long to watch them, as his attack returned the favour, delivering a brutal punch to the back of Stiles own knee, causing it to collapse beneath him.

He went down hard, sending pain up through his joints and into his back. He cried out furiously and twisted his torso to swing at the man.

With their attackers protected, Stiles aimed for the more exposed area of the man's neck, but the man was prepared, grabbing his wrist, and twisted, delivering another punch to Stiles' elbow. The sound of the bones breaking rang in the teen's ears.

Stiles agonised to scream piece through the chaos, drawing the attention of his new kin. He heard someone yell his name, but couldn't recognise who it was over the chaos and noise.

Before he was properly able to regain his equilibrium, a fist connected with his ribs, over and over. Another twist of Stiles' wrist sent him onto his back in the dirt, the anonymous soldier kneeling over him.

Despite the darkness, and the tears of agony, he was able to make out the knife in his attackers' hand, and he felt a cold sweat breakout all over, his heart beginning to race from fear. He clenched his eyes closed, waiting for the inevitable.

He startled when warm liquid splashed down onto his terrified face. There was a heavy weight on his legs briefly, before it was lifted away, and he felt strong hands lifting him to his feet.

Slowly, he opened eyes, blinking back the tears and what turned out to be blood. His heart leapt into his throat at the sight before him.

"Dad?" He choked out, throat raw from his scream.

Warm golden eyes searched his face, while clawed hands held him upright.

"Are you okay?" His dad asked around protruding canines. "Stiles?" He pressed.

Before Stiles could reply, another soldier rushed towards them. Looking up, eyes flaring gold, John shoved Stiles into the far corner of the basement and met their attacker head on, claws swiping ferociously.

Stiles hissed as his broken arm hit the stone wall, and he sank to the ground. Huddled in the dark, he watched as his father ripped his way through attacker after attacker. Stiles eyes widened as his dad showed off some impressive fight skills. When had his dad learnt martial arts?

Soon enough, the influx of fresh meat stops, and everyone can take a breath. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and blood.

His father didn't wait to bathe in his glory, instead dashing up the stairs, followed closely by Chris, Allison, Malia, and Theo.

"Wait, don't..." Stiles yelled after the two X6s, while struggling to his feet.

In a blink there were two sets of hands cautiously gripping his biceps and helping him stand. He looked between them, both covered in blood and dirt. "Thanks." Stiles muttered once he was stable, cradling his arm against his chest.

Kira beamed at him, and Stiles noted the look of empowerment in her dark eyes. She even seemed to stand a little straighter.

Liam was on the other hand was her opposite, slough, seemingly withdrawing into himself. He stared down at his feet uncertainly. It was strange, to be honest, because Stiles had seemed such confidence in him during the fight. - The adrenaline, he realised.

"Liam, go check on the others." He jerked his head towards the tunnel entrance, "Stay with them until it's all clear."

Liam gave a relieved sigh, and Stiles headed for the stairs, Kira hurriedly following.

"Shouldn't we stay down here." She argued while taking the steps. "Derek was very clear."

Stiles scoffed, "Me and Derek have an understanding. He tells me what to do, I ignore ever word." He smirked down at her, " it's our love language. "

Kira gave a chuckle, shaking her head.

Together, they ran through the house, Stiles gritted his teeth through the pain. The door was wide open and the sound of fighting drifted in. They came to a skidding halt in the doorway, staring out at the chaos.

Stiles searched the darkness until his eyes landed on Derek, naked and delivering carnage on their enemies.

Kira cleared her throat, "Is he... - Is that werewolf thing, fighting naked?"

Stiles scoffed, "You could say that." He tore his gaze away and sorted out his father. Watching agog as the man kicked some Manticore ass.

After a few minutes, Stiles' eyes moved on, seeking out the rest of his pack, and 'family'. His eyes darted around; Alec, Erica, Boyd, Finstock, and even Scott.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a fight rushing toward him and Kira, and turned in preparation for the attack. Kira was there first, stepping in front of him. Her parents had obviously trained her well, and Stiles could fully appreciate the grace and skill she showed. Gone was the sheepish girl of moments ago, in her place a warrior.

Hugging his arm to his chest, Stiles slumped against the wall behind him, his head beginning to spin. The adrenaline rush was slowly dissipating, despite the fighting continuing. His knees turned to jello and in an instant, he was sinking to the ground, heart pounding incessantly in his ears.

The pain screamed through his body and tears began to fill his eyes. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision. Between one blink and the next, his view was filled with the concerned face of his dad.

"Hey dad," He grinned, "You were awesome." His words were weak and slightly slurred. "Like something out of Street Fighter." He scoffed.

He felt his dad's warm hands on his arm, heaving him up from the floor as he replied, his tone tense despite the lightness of his words. "I'm more of a Mortal Kombat person myself."

Stiles laughed, and kept laughing until he was crying.

"I t-thought you w-were gonna d-die too."

"Stiles!"

he turned his head sluggishly to see Derek in all his naked glory, and smiled. "Hey babe, not really the time or place for sexy times." He lowered his voice, - Or thought he did. "My dad's here, he has a gun." Stiles eyes travelled down Derek's body and he grinned, winking.

_(*_*)_

"What's wrong with him?" Derek asked, his hand reaching out to clap Stiles' neck. He drew it back almost instantly, staring down at the blood. His heart leapt into his throat, and he turned panicked eyes on the sheriff.

John scooped Stiles up into his arms and rushed back into the house. "Get..."

Derek was already heading to the basement, leaping down stairs and racing along the tunnel. "Melissa! Melissa!"

She met him halfway, fear filling her face. "Derek? What's happening? Scott?"

"He's fine, it's Stiles."

Her relief vanished and the fear returned in a flash. "Let's go." She ordered, racing past him.

He tugged her back just as they reached the end of the tunnel, stepping through cautiously. While the manticore soldiers had retreated, Derek was still cautious.

They raced up the stairs and waved their way through the house as everyone piled back in to lick their wounds and gather their thoughts. There were new faces, but Derek couldn't focus on them, Stiles was his priority.

With Melissa at his heels, Derek rushed up the stairs, following the sound of Stiles' heart till they reached his room.

Melissa pushed past him again, racing over to check on him. John was at his side, clinging to his arm. Derek could see his veins pulsing.

"Every time I let go, he moans in pain." John muttered, confused.

Melissa smiled up at him, "You're relieving his pain. It's a werewolf thing."

John looked from his hands to Stiles, to Derek. The Alpha lowered his head guiltily, then turned to his dresser.

"It was m-my fault." Stiles said behind him. "I made him d-do I-it. D-don't bl-blame Derek."

"He's taken a pretty bad blow to the head, it'll need stitches." Melissa announced, "Derek, I need..."

"Yeah, I'll get the kit." Fastening the jeans, Derek rushed into the bathroom, returning with a big box.

John frowned at it, "I thought werewolves heal fast?" He said, scrutinizing the thing.

Derek met his eyes, "We do, but he doesn't."

Realisation filled the sheriff's eyes and he nodded.

"Okay, sweetheart, I need you to roll over." Melissa said, riffling through the box for what she needed. "You've got a good kit here."

Derek swallowed, "Stiles put it together."

Melissa scoffed, "Of course he did. John, you're gonna have to move."

"I can't, if I let go... "

Derek reached across from the other side of the bed, setting his hand against Stiles' cheek, "I've got him."

The sheriff looked torn for a moment, before finally letting go and turning Stiles towards Derek.

Stiles eyes fluttered open and he smiled, "Hey."

"Hey,"

Stiles raised his arm, wincing only slightly as he attempted to rub at Derek frown. "My hand doesn't work." He frowned, looking at his hand.

"It's broken." John said, appearing on the other side of the bed.

Stiles looked at his dad, "Really?"

John nodded.

"How did that happen?" He met Derek's eyes, "Did we get too rough?" He winked, his lips curled up in a wolfish grin.

Derek felt blood rush to his face and lowered his head. "No! You got hurt fighting."

"What's that...smell? " John asked, nose wrinkled.

Melissa snorted from behind Stiles, looking up from her work briefly. "Going by the look on Derek's face, it's probably embarrassing." She chuckled, going back to Stiles' head.

"Ah," John huffed.

Stiles let his hand drop back to the pillow, and his eyes drifted closed.

"Oh no, Stiles..." John said, leaning forward to slap his son's hip, "stay awake, son. You can't sleep yet."

"But I'm tired. "

"I know, kid, but if you nod off you might not wake up. You've got to stay awake."

Stiles groaned. "Daaaaddd."

Talk to me, kid." John pressed, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed. "So, I'm a werewolf now, huh?"

Stiles turned his gaze on his dad. "I made him turn you. He didn't want to do it, but I made him feel guilty, and I shouldn't have done that..." He looked at Derek, tears filling his eyes, "I'm sorry. I understand if you hate me now."

"I don't hate you." Derek said quietly, his thumb brushing soothing at Stiles' jaw.

"How can you not, I made you do..."

"You didn't make me do anything Stiles. You didn't force me to bite your dad. You didn't hold me down like Sc... " He trailed off, looking up when he's felt Melissa's eyes on him.

After a breath, Melissa returned to the stitches and Derek focused on Stiles once more. "I made the decision to bite your father."

Stiles' watery eyes turned to his dad, "But he did it for me, so I wouldn't lose you. Don't hate him. Please, please don't hate him."

John shook his head, "I don't hate him, Stiles. If it's a choice between leaving you and having superpowers, what idiot would pick death?" Stiles gave him a shaky smile. " Besides, now I can eat steak again without you complaining. " John chuckled.

Stiles rolled his eyes, "Told yo-you that's all he'd c-care about."

Derek laughed. "You're too smart for your own good."

"That's why you love me though. "

Derek shook his head fondly, "For my sins, yeah."

"Okay," Melissa said, "now let's look at that arm."

Together, they sat Stiles up and Melissa started to examine his arm, the crease between her brows increasing by the second.

Derek kept his hand firmly against the nap in Stiles' neck and waited for the inevitable diagnosis.

"It's broken. He'll need to go to the hospital."

Derek sighs, "he can't. "They'll have the place staked out."

"Especially after thar fight. " John added.

"Well, unless you have a stash of plaster of paris in that bathroom, it's the only option."

"Is my arm broken?" Stiles asked. At Melissa's nod, he smiled dopily, "Cool. Last time I broke my arm, no one signed my cast." He muttered sadly, " but now I have a whole load of people to sign it. " He twisted his head, looking up at Derek. "You'll sign it, won't you Derek?"

Derek huffed, "Yeah Stiles, I'll sign it."

Stiles grinned and turned to Melissa, wiggling his finger at her until she leant forward. "He's going to sign my cast, because he's my boyfriend, so he has to. It's the law."

Melissa laughed, "Okay Stiles." She rubbed at his shoulder.

"We'll have to improvise, do things the old-fashioned way until we have this all sorted."

Melissa looked between the two men unhappily. "Fine. In that case, I'm going to need two pieces of wood and all the bandages you can spare."

Derek nodded, "Okay, I'll see what I can find." Shifting awkwardly, Derek looked to the sheriff, "You'll have to take over here."

John didn't even hesitate, sliding his hand into place at Stiles' neck and taking his son's weight easily.

Derek moved out of the way and headed for the door.

"Deerrreeek!" Stiles whined, "Don't leave me." He pouted.

"I won't be long, I promise. I'll bring you a glass of water."

Stiles still looked unhappy, but didn't argue, so Derek slipped out of the room and hurried down the stairs. There was scraps of wood leftover in the basement. So, he headed straight for the kitchen.

Before he could reach the basement door however, he staggered to a halt, staring up at a tall man with long blonde hair, dressed in a smart suit, and a face the spitting image of Joshua's.

He knew who he was instantly, from his time in the ice bath.

The man stepped forward, hand extended, "Derek." He greeted, his voice deep and warm, and comforting in a strange way, "I'm Dr Vincent Sandeman. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Derek stared at the hand for a few minutes, before taking it. "Hey."

"I was sorry for the loss of your family. Your parents were good people. "

Derek swallowed thickly, withdrawing his hand. "Yeah, thank you."

Sandeman leant a little more on his cane, and nodded, "How's Stiles?" He asked with genuine concern in his voice.

"He's uh... He's got a concussion and a broken arm. I was just going to...we need wood for a splint."

"I think we can do better than that. " He turned, "Zack, Syl, take Brian and go raid the hospital for supplies."

"They'll have the place surrounded." Derek announced.

Sandeman gave him an amused smile, "That's why they're taking Brian." Derek watched as a mildly overweight young man with a crew cut got up from the kitchen table. Derek frowned, unsure how he could possibly help.

"Brian has a unique set of skills." Sandeman said, nodding at another young muscular man.

The man gave them a sharp nod and then, gesturing to a woman with long blonde hair, marched out the back door.

Derek stood there, doubtful. "I should still get the wood." He said, heading for the basement door.

Sandeman nodded, "Of course. - When you're done," Sandeman said before Derek disappeared, "We need to discuss what to do about Manticore."

"Yeah."