"You actually made it, I was expecting you to bail given what I told you I saw," Lydia hummed, arms crossed under her breasts perked up by the black lacey bustier she was wearing. Lydia was dressed to actually show off her body. It was rare for her to not wear a loose dress or skirt, instead she wore tight black jeans that stopped right below her belly button and showed off the curve of her ass. Her long strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, loose curls and a braid wrapped around the hair tie to hide it. It was interesting to see Lydia in such form-fitting clothes, but she was in her normal stilettos, not practical for running, but very practical for their "disguise".
"I'm thirty minutes late, what could have happened in that time?" Derek grumbled looking around, hands tucked into his black torn up jeans that hung loosely around his waist. He wore a black tank top and an open button-down that barely fit over his shoulders. His moss-green eyes looked over the line of men and women trying to get into The Jungle, his ears intent on listening to anything suspicious, and his nose taking in everyone's scents waiting for something out of the ordinary, something that wasn't human. Derek's eyes landed back on the young woman waiting for an answer.
Lydia had opened her mouth to reply when her eyes glazed over, she saw a familiar face trying to call for help, heard the crying and whimpering. Derek called her name to pull her back forward but Lydia sank deeper into the vision, she began shaking, her legs pulled her around the corner and down the street. It felt as though blood was spilling from her forehead down her face and out of her mouth, pain, and heat spreading inside. Suddenly she felt a large, strong hand on her arm causing her pain and was ripped back to reality. She turned and looked up at Derek, ponytail flying over her shoulder, strands loosening and gently caressing her forehead. Lydia was gasping, panting, pulling against Derek to try to get to Stiles, the other should know what she was going after, why she had to. Others she could stop herself and control herself, but the only person that was closest to her she had to protect.
"Lydia, is it happening now?" He growled, trying to get her to focus. Lydia had warned him that Stiles was going to be hurt tonight while on the hunt, but he needed her to focus so they could actually help him.
"He's… He's bleeding, inside… It's all inside," she cried, clawing at her stomach, dull acrylics barely leaving marks on her soft pale skin. Lydia was panicking and tears were already spilling from her bright green eyes, Derek wasn't moving fast enough, they could prevent this death.
"Is he inside? Or is he bleeding internally?" Derek asked the crying young woman. His green eyes searched hers a long moment before releasing her arm. He knew it was no use asking, she had gotten really good at figuring out most details, but sometimes she had to follow instinct and all Derek could do was follow. Derek didn't want another death on his hands, especially a preventable one.
Once he let go of her she moved quicker than before, the urgency filling her up, the pain controlling her until she landed against a wall of an alley crying when she saw the crumpled body against the wall. Stiles' breaths were shaky, his pulse weak, but Derek knew it was him, he was covered in blood and bruises, but he could still see the moles that always littered Stiles' body. Derek huffed out the toxic smell of death lingering in the air around the young man and moved towards him, sitting him up against the wall. When he touched Stiles' bruised skin, the young man groaned in pain. Derek's vein's pulsed black as he pulled Stiles' pain away from him. The young man sighed when he felt a familiar feeling of euphoria hit him, Stiles' hand weakly gripped Derek's hand on his shoulder.
"Lydia, call an ambulance," Derek commanded, making sure she did it before moving back onto Stiles. Derek muttered to himself about how ridiculous this whole situation was and slowly laid Stiles out, pulling off the tattered mesh shirt that was clinging to the cuts. Stiles' breaths were shallow and filled with the sound of gurgling blood in his throat. His hand went up Derek's body to find something else to grip which ended up being Derek's stubbled cheek. He couldn't see through the swelling on his face and around his eyes, but he knew that voice, that smell (How did he know the smell?). Stiles felt comforted knowing that Derek had found him, despite the fact he would have to now explain why he smelled different and how he got into this situation.
"Stiles, it's me, Derek… Lydia called an ambulance," Derek huffed and tilted his head when he heard the ambulance finally coming after what seemed like too long, "We're going to get you to a doctor."
Stiles gurgled feeling his throat filling up with more blood the more he tried to talk, tried to stop Derek from taking him somewhere he really didn't want to be. Somewhere, where all of his victims were and he would have to feel their energy in the same space as himself. Derek shushed him quietly, trying to calm Stiles down, knowing exactly why the other didn't want to be there. The werewolf pulled Stiles off the wall and into his arms holding him tilted against his chest so he would stop breathing in the blood, his hand gripped his bare shoulder while the other held his legs up off the ground, trying to draw some pain away.
Lydia waved the ambulance down, it skidded as it pulled over and the EMS crew quickly came out going to Derek. They gently pulled Stiles from Derek's tight grasp after Lydia got Derek to relax enough to let them. The werewolf stood up and stood next to Lydia, the young woman gripping his arm to prevent him from leaving his spot.
"Who called this in?" One of the lingering EMS workers asked.
"I did," Lydia breathed slowly standing.
"Do You know him?"
"I do."
"Come inside then, he can meet us at the hospital after the officers talk to him," the EMS worked said, ushering Lydia into the back of the truck before it drove off. Derek slowly stood watching the ambulance rushed away and saw the Sheriff walk towards him glaring at Derek. It was clear the Sheriff had no idea who had just gone away in the ambulance and that Lydia had kept Stiles' identity a secret. Derek looked at the posture of the Sheriff, and it was clear was displeased to see him, one of Noah's hands were on his gun, the other holding a clipboard to get a statement. Derek sighed sufferably before nodding once to the man and shuffled a bit to meet the Sheriff halfway.
"Do you know what happened here?" The sheriff asked.
Derek sighed and looked towards the fleeing ambulance, "Lydia had a vision your son was going to be here, dead if we didn't get to him. He was almost there when we found him. So we called the ambulance."
Noah sucked in a breath, he hadn't known who had been ushered into that ambulance, just that a young man had been brutalized on the streets of downtown Beacon Hills. Noah quickly spoke into his radio, letting others know he'd be leaving his shift early to go to the hospital. "Will you sniff the man out that did this?" He asked Derek.
Derek took a long moment to inhale the air and the scents that lingered in the alleyway. "I can try, but he'll probably end up in the hospital because of what Stiles did to him," Derek spoke bluntly. Noah had to know that his son was the cause of this epidemic, if Stiles had his way, he wouldn't tell anyone. That would only end up with his dad getting hurt in the process and Stiles wouldn't forgive himself for that, and the young man had enough guilt filling him up about the past.
"What are you saying? He asked for this hate crime?" Noah growled at the wolf.
"No, I'm saying he's the one making people sick," Derek growled back, lower and deeper, almost pleased with the shiver the human's body made. Noah felt himself sink internally more and stared down at the notepad he held and breathed for a long moment. It was clear that Noah fully understood the impact of what Derek said, the Sheriff had been the one to bring this case to them and now he knew he was going after Stiles.
"Did you drive or do you need a ride?" Noah asked heading towards his police car reluctantly, rubbing the back of his neck, his other hand moving to his handcuffs.
"Need a ride," Derek grunted. The werewolf's eyes landed on the officer's hand, his immediate thought had been that Noah was going to arrest him, but came to the realization through the smell of anxiety on the man, that he'd be cuffing his own son. The Sheriff allowed Derek to sit in the front seat, surprisingly, and the wolf slouched a bit allowing his nerves to run through him. It was distressing that the creature they were all after was Stiles. He would have to contact Scott, his Co-Alpha, let him know what happened to their night, but he was worried about what Scott would do when he found out.
"Lydia do you know what happened to him?" Nurse McCall asked as she looked over Stiles' beaten form.
"No, I didn't see, but he's not dead, right? I got to him in time?" She asked, her hands holding Stiles' tightly. Stiles was glad for the comfort, for his best friend, she had been the best thing that happened to him since she noticed him.
Stiles and Lydia had been asked over the course of the past year at least if they were dating, but they weren't and never would. They shared a love deeper than others could understand, it was the same sort of bond Stiles shared with Derek (though they would have never admitted it). Lydia and Stiles were there for each other through every tragedy she suffered and felt and the torture he was put through. They were affectionate and close, but the past few months had their bond had weakened, which is what caused them both so much individual suffering.
Melissa looked at the young woman, understanding the deeper meaning of the question and smiled kindly, her eyes wrinkling. "You made it in time, he's going to make it. You're definitely the reason he's going to be alive," the nurse conveyed to the banshee. Lydia sobbed out happily and gently kissed Stiles' soft hand, laughing softly as she felt Stiles squeeze her hand to comfort her.
Melissa pushed an IV line into Stiles and worked on cleaning and bandaging the open wounds on his face and sides. The doctor finally came over to their section of hell in the ER and tsked. "We're going to put him in for a full-body CT scan to see what kind of damage the internal bleeding has caused and it will show us what bones are broken," the doctor spoke feeling Stiles' broken ribs, bruising and watched his blood pressure slowly dropping. "His platelet count was abnormal, we know thanks to EMS delivering a blood sample upon arrival, and he keeps coughing up dark-colored blood, which is what I would prefer. He, by some miracle, doesn't have a brain bleed, but I want to ensure he doesn't have one of his broken ribs puncturing an organ. We don't need to add him to the surgery list." The doctor placed Stiles' chart at the end of his bed as the young man was about to move all about the hospital.
"Nurse McCall, the technician is already here to take him if you want to bring Ms. Martin with them you can, I know you know the kid personally. Ms. Martin when you get back, Mr. Stilinski's other guests will be in the private room in the ICU we have set up waiting," He spoke effectively and walked away. Lydia pulled her hand out of Stiles' so the technician could take Stiles away to the CT scan. Lydia and Melissa fell in step behind the technician and Stiles wanting to accompany so that Stiles wasn't left alone with a clueless human.
Nurse McCall took Lydia's arm and walked slowly watching the halls as they moved to the radiology department. Lydia could feel Melissa staring at Stiles for a long time, it was clear the woman was furious about Stiles being the seeming victim of a hate crime. It was also clear Melissa had been wanting to ask the questions she had about how they managed to find Stiles, but unsure if it was the appropriate time. Lydia breathed slowly, trying to calm her heartbeat and looked to Melissa finally for the first time since entering the hospital. The woman deserved to know the truth, she was the reason they ended up figuring out who the creature was that they were after.
"No, Stiles and I aren't dating," Lydia started, trying to ease the tension with a joke and a small smile, "He's the one who has been making everyone sick… he just caught the wrong… 'victim' this time." Lydia breathed shallowly, admitting out loud that Stiles was a predator. It was hard the first time when he was the Nogitsune, it was going to be hard now, to see him that way, watch him be that way.
Melissa tripped over her feet a bit at Lydia's blunt admission. She stared at Stiles' limp body a few minutes too long, contemplating a reply when they finally entered the room where his scan would be conducted. They stood in the room side by side watching the radiologist work on the computer-side of the machine, Stiles was laid down on the bed. The radiologist began working and as the pictures flashed across the screen Melissa sighed in relief.
"It looks like there was a minor bleed, but the IV fluids must have helped the clotting process. He has a few broken ribs on each side, a broken arm, but no organs were punctured severely," The radiologist explained as the images appeared. The imaging moved up to his upper torso and head, "His clavicle has a fracture, his hyoid and mandible are fractured as well. He's going to be stuck in the hospital for a while."
Once the full body scan was finished the pair and the nurse with Stiles moved to the intensive care unit where they had a room set up for him because not only was his body a broken mess, but he still had a danger of having a brain bleed with the amount of trauma to his head. The full-body CT scan that Stiles received didn't show any issues associated with his brain only the broken bones and the remnants of internal bleeding. When they reached the room Derek was already sitting in one of the chairs next to the bed, Stiles' father in the other.
Stiles smiled dopily after he was laid down in the ICU bed, his eyes were still swollen shut, but the pain meds were flowing through him finally. The familiar scents in the air of his father and Derek had him smiling more. It was comfortable to have everyone he cared about around him, the scents of concern freely flowing through the air. Stiles flopped his IV hand out, his dad's warm hand taking it with care, his other hand was being placed in a clay cast, waiting for the nurses to prep the actual cast materials for him and his arm.
"My favorite guys," Stiles wheezed and slurred. His dad made a face at Derek, not understanding why Stiles would even say that about the werewolf.
"Don't talk Stiles, you took some damage to your hyoid bone and jaw," Melissa said with a small sigh, patting his leg genty. All Stiles said in response was a drunken happy hum, he was definitely fine with not talking for a while, especially with the pain all gone. His head lolled to the other side to face Derek, he let out a small whine trying to get Derek to tell him how ugly he looked.
"You're nose might actually look normal once the plastic surgeon is done with you," Derek teased, tugging on Stiles' still blood-soaked hair. Derek's nose wrinkled as the young man was still covered in his own blood, the smell was mixing in with Stiles' normal scent, tainting it.
"Derek, Stiles and I can't afford that for him," Noah breathed softly, looking at his son's destroyed face. They would only afford what a regular doctor could do for him which was reset his nose and hope the scars that would end up on his face wouldn't be too bad.
Derek and Lydia snorted and spoke at the same time, "I'll handle the bills," and looked at each other with a small glare. Neither of them were hurting for money, and for Lydia specifically, her mother considered Stiles as her own son after everything he did to help Lydia stay sane and vice versa. Noah shook his head about to deny them when he received seriously threatening looks from the werewolf and the banshee so he decided to keep his mouth shut and let them work out their issues.
After the original swelling had gone down, the on-staff plastic surgeon made a plan of action to set the bones in his face properly and make sure he healed with the most minimal scarring possible. A week after the minor reconstructive surgery, Stiles' face was no longer swollen, he was laying in bed bandage holding his nose and covering the stitches all over the rest of his face. He had his left arm in a cast and his torso was wrapped tightly. He had a nasopharyngeal tube to make him eat since his hyoid bone and jaw were still fractured. Stiles' father, Noah, had been in and out of the hospital, giving him worried looks anytime he thought Stiles was looking. When Melissa would come in for the regular status updates nurses had to do, she was no different with her tiny glances. It was like they knew something and didn't know how to bring it up with Stiles and currently, he was sitting in the room alone with Derek staring at the whiteboard he'd been using to communicate with everyone.
'Why do they keep staring at me weird?' Stiles finally wrote after thirty minutes of staring at the board contemplating everything that had been going on. They were finally alone together, it was time that they had a "private" conversation. He turned the board slightly so Derek could see it, but the man was basically cuddled up next to the bed Stiles was in. The werewolf's chair hadn't moved since the first night and Derek, himself, only moved to get himself food and more comfortable items like a blanket. It was nice to have constant company, especially with Derek because he was the least judgemental of the pack and his family. He understood probably the best where Stiles was at emotionally.
Derek sighed looking at the board and shifted uncomfortably, "Because they found out what you are and aren't sure what to do with you. The guy that assaulted you for… you know… wants to press charges and your dad is trying to figure out how to bring it up to you." There was a lot he knew they should go over, talk about, to each other (maybe with Lydia present, she definitely had some things to say) and then to the rest of the pack, but right now he just wanted to give Stiles some peace of mind and peace and quiet. That was all he could provide right now while Stiles was healing, and at an alarmingly slow rate for someone with supernatural abilities.
Stiles stared at his whiteboard for another long moment deciding what he wanted to admit at that moment. He had chosen a whiteboard because he didn't want to leave documentation of what he wanted to say if he wanted to have a private conversation like this, he wanted it to stay that way and not have others (mainly his father) in his business. 'I blacked out until I had him up against the wall.' Stiles wrote, remembering pinning the man and falling to his knees hungry. He at least had enough of his mind to make sure he got consent. He always wanted it in these situations of hunger. It felt wrong, well, more wrong, taking their energy without their permission first. 'I asked and he said yes. I blacked out more and when I came to, a fist hit my face,' Stiles wrote and showed Derek.
"Did he say yes? Like verbally?" Derek looked Stiles in his eyes for a long moment, because he had overheard what the man had been saying to the other officers across the nurse station, and it wasn't in Stiles' favor.
Stiles chewed on the inside of his cheek trying to remember through the fog of lust and hunger from that night. 'He nodded his head,' he replied with writing, looking to Derek meekly. Stiles knew he was probably in deep shit. The laws were not on Stiles' side currently, and he wasn't sure his dad could get him out of this situation.
Derek sighed and rubbed his own forehead, "So, you didn't get a verbal confirmation and you can barely remember what you were doing anyway. But, I don't think he can press charges when you're the one in the hospital with the broken bones and he's only here because he's "sick"." Derek tried to work through the situation out loud to try to get Stiles to calm down as his scent had changed to match the anxiety he felt and it was leaving a sour taste in Derek's mouth.
Stiles tried to calm down, he could smell Derek's pheromones, they were different this time, he was almost starting to feel calm from taking them in. The man trying to press charges meant his dad had to present him with a warrant for his arrest, and cuff him to the ICU bed for as long as he stayed in ICU. Once he was out, he'd be sent to jail and then probably house arrest since he luckily had his father as the Sheriff. Stiles wrote quickly, his thoughts racing about a trial that would be against him in every way. 'That means he can use the gay panic defense.'
"Excuse me, what?" Derek asked with a frown, staring at the board Stiles hadn't bothered showing him.
Stiles erased the writing just as quickly as he wrote it in hopes that Derek wouldn't have enough time to read it, but was unlucky. He ended up just waving his hand, dismissing what he said, it wasn't important anymore his focused had switched to another topic, 'Are all of my victims in ICU with me?'
Derek grunted at the subject change but was going to let it go, for now, "Yes, both of the men and that woman are in this section. The guy that attacked you has already tried coming to your room multiple times, they have him strapped down now. For a guy who is extremely sick, he's not acting fatigued at all," Derek growled protectively.
'So, when do you want to talk about what I am?'
"Not until you can actually talk again. Or until Lydia loses her mind with your thoughts being so loud."
'Are you saying I'm Peter and she's Meridith in this scenario?'
"Yes, apparently your thoughts move a lot faster and more chaotically than when you talk normally," Derek snorted. It was one of the reasons Lydia didn't visit often, she was getting frustrated with Stiles' screaming thoughts and her inability to do anything about them. She knew Derek could handle Stiles by himself and could protect Stiles by himself.
'Well at least I'm not making a deadpool while comatose,' Stiles laughed softly at his written joke, glad for the pain medication so he didn't feel most of the pain from the action.
"Do you know why you're not healing fast?" Derek asked giving Stiles a moment to regain himself after his painful laughing fit. It was bothering the werewolf that the brunette wasn't getting better, he had healed from internal bleeding, but nothing else. There was something up with Stiles, something that the eight-teen-year-old hadn't told anyone yet.
The young man nodded slowly glancing at Derek, his teeth back to chewing on his lip. 'I need to feed,' he wrote out, feeling himself heat up in embarrassment and shame. He erased what he wrote and started scribbling again, 'I blacked out that night because it had been three weeks since the last time I was with someone.' He really hoped Derek would move on from this topic, it wasn't like there was anything anyone could do without them getting sick.
Derek watched Stiles avoiding eye contact and felt himself get annoyed. The other smelled of shame and it was disruptive and unnecessary for the other to feel. Everyone knew Stiles couldn't help it, it was clearly a recent change, no one would blame him for the accidental lives he took, for the people he made sick. Stiles had taken all of this change on by himself when there was a whole pack of individuals that would be more than willing to help him figure out what was going on with him and how to handle it. Derek sighed out slowly, his deep voice flowing with it, he had been really thinking about this situation, about Stiles' situation and need to feed. Derek was pretty sure he wouldn't get sick, and if he did, he'd heal, unlike the human victims. He looked to the closed door and back to Stiles decidedly, he would have to let Stiles use him to save everyone else.
"How much pain is your jaw in right now?" Derek asked Stiles, standing slowly, brushing his hands down his clothes, smoothing them.
Stiles' head turned so fast he winced at the broken bones in his face aching from the muscles pulling on them. His mouth fell open into an 'o' shape and he choked on the tube in his throat as a noise tried to escape. He looked down at the whiteboard and scribbled quicker than he had thought possible. 'My face doesn't hurt that bad, but I have a fucking feeding tube and I'm gross and why do you smell like that?' He shoved the board in Derek's face, trying to get the man to leave him be. He could smell the lust and want on the werewolf and Stiles wasn't the one making the other feel that way. Stiles felt more confused than anything at this point.
Derek growled in annoyance, Stiles was avoiding him now and what needed to be done to fix Stiles' current state. The whiteboard was knocked to the floor and Derek loomed over the eighteen-year-old. Derek put a knee on the bed next to Stiles' hip, slowly and gently he straddled the other, making sure none of his weight fell on Stiles. Stiles panicked under the much larger man realizing what he was planning on doing. The brunette tried to move his casted arm to cover his face, but it was pinned to his chest in a sling. His other arm was attached to IV fluids and attempting to lift his arms was painful for his broken ribs. Derek gently took Stiles' head into his hands and waited for the other's heart to slow to an almost normal beat, he didn't need nurses rushing in because Stiles' heart rate rose. The werewolf could smell the arousal spilling from Stiles, and the absolute hunger and need to take from Derek that wafted off of him. Derek had to control himself and the situation, Stiles didn't know how to control himself, so Derek had to be that control for him.
"Kissing is enough, right? You can get energy or… whatever it is you eat... from kissing, right?" Derek asked barely above a whisper, trying to keep prying ears outside the door from hearing him. He made sure his question was calm and slow, so Stiles could focus on the words and Derek's calming breath.
Stiles' mouth closed before he opened it again and sighed, the sound rough, "Enough to heal bones," Stiles rasped out, coughing a bit. He shut his eyes for a long moment, Derek letting the other settle with the idea, "thank god you heal," Stiles muttered.
The young succuba's eyes opened and flashed green at the other, an eerily similar color to the werejaguar that was Kate Argent, but a hint of Stiles' normal hazel brown lingered around his blown pupils. Stiles breathed in Derek's arousal, humming in a deep, choked voice (the feeding tube really messed with his speech and breathing ability). Stiles felt like he was pulsating under Derek's hands, and Derek was being pulled into it, the heat and the want of the brunette. It was overwhelming. The werewolf understood how it was easy for Stiles' victims to succumb to the succuba. Derek leaned in to the other when he felt Stiles finally relax in his warm hands, the werewolf pressed his lips to Stiles' gently. They gave each other a few chaste kisses to get a feel for one another, to relax into the motions until they completely gave in. Their eyes were half-lidded, both wanting to see the other's reactions, wanting to make sure the trust stayed.
Derek held Stiles' face still to make sure he didn't move and disrupt his slowly setting bones. The werewolf began pulling pain from the younger man while receiving pleasure from the succuba's talented lips and tongue. They fought for dominance over one another, biting lips, growling at each other, their tongues dancing together until Stiles finally let the wolf inside. Derek felt like he had been tricked into winning, it didn't feel like a win of dominance in a game, it felt like this was exactly what the succubus wanted. He growled louder in frustration, gently tilting Stiles' head back. The wolf shifted his weight above Stiles to take his mouth the way Derek wanted, conquering territory as he gave his energy to the other. Derek could feel his life force pouring out into the other's body, but with the delicate, IV'd hand gripping Derek's thick wrist desperately, he didn't care, he was willing to give Stiles his life at this point. How much of that was Stiles' influence in this moment he didn't know and didn't care, he was content to continue for as long as Stiles needed him. Suddenly, Stiles pushed Derek off of him with a low moan spilling out of him. He covered his mouth so Derek wouldn't try that again, trying to protect the other. Stiles fell back on the bed shutting his eyes as he took shuddering breaths, trying to calm his heart rate down again. He really didn't want nurses seeing him like this.
"I need you to stop… Because if you don't, I might make you do things the hospital will regret seeing," he cracked, swallowing weakly against the tube. Derek breathed heavily and worked his way off the bed without disrupting Stiles' weak body and fell into his chair. His eyes wandered over to the camera in the room and covered his face in embarrassment. He had forgotten Stiles was under constant surveillance while the police were waiting for him to get out of the hospital. The werewolf's head lolled back on the top of the chair before turning to look at Stiles, watching the bruising on his face leave as well as listening to the stitching of his bones inside the succuba's body.
"I guess it worked," Derek murmured, feeling completely blissed out, shutting his eyes to enjoy the feeling of ecstasy. Stiles huffed out laughter at the other's lack of sense and slowly nodded his head.
"Thanks, sour wolf… that was the best kiss I've ever had," Stiles wheezed keeping his eyes shut to work through the pain of the supernatural healing he had never had to deal with before.