Notes: Teen Wolf is doing terrible, terrible things to my brain. Like forcing me to put Stiles in danger when he's soft a breakable garrgghh D:
Thankyou everyone for all the reviews, you folks are amazing seriously, sorry again this chapter took a little while, I hope it's worth it!
"Come on baby, remember our deal." He urged, attempting to rev her back up again.
He was violently twisting the keys in the ignition when he spotted the large dent that had appeared in the front bumper. He leaned forwards, the sheer size of it halting his frenzied attempt to start the jeep up again, squashing his face against the windscreen in an attempt to study it more closely.
The shape seemed to indicate hard impact, maybe with a rock or something equally uneven, but there was nothing in sight to indicate he had crashed.
His first thoughts went to how monumentally screwed he was.
His Dad was going to kill him. His Dad was going to kill him and then send him to the garage to get attacked by supernatural creatures and watch his own vehicle commit homicide.
He had a blissful moment of confusion combined with guilt before the growling off to his left alerted him to a more prominent danger than his father's 'disappointment stare'.
A more prominent, hairy danger that was approaching from the side of the road with a mischievous toothy grin complete with A-Grade Stiles-tearing fangs.
The growl was followed by a throaty chuckle as the dark haired wolf approached his side window. It was huge, stooping as it stepped towards him. He pressed down the locks instinctively before inching away from the door. It halted centimetres before the flimsy pane of glass, lowering its head only to arch it back up in one long swing, sniffing the air as it did so.
"Oh, but you're just a little human boy." The voice was startlingly poisonous in its femininity.
He leaned further back, away from the window, drawing his feet up onto his seat as he scrambled across the handbrake.
His first assumption had been a man, supported by the deep laughter and the huge physique, but now that she was close he could pick out features in her face that suggested she was female, the softer jaw, the thicker lashes, though they were quickly marred with a scowl that reduced her face to nothing more than animal.
His throat suddenly felt dry and constricted.
"herrrrhuman yes?" was all that he could utter as she reached out a clawed hand to scrape her nails down the window pane. "But I grew three inches this Summer!"
Smooth Stiles. Those are going down in history as the most embarrassingly uninspiring last words ever.
He froze in place, the scramble to put more distance between him and the door had left him stretched over the passenger seat, a cool breeze tingling down his spine as he made eye-contact with the beast now pressing its nose against the window directly above his head.
"He's human alright, but he stinks of wolf." The voice was deep, rough, more befitting the stature of the female across from him than the lean, gaunt face that rested on his passenger window.
Stiles had a moment of blind panic. He was caught in an improvised backwards crab with a gear stick lodged in his spine, two werewolves blocking the exits and absolutely no previous history of honing his ninja skills thanks to his inability to seal that deal with Allison. He was a seafood buffet, ready to be ravaged right into his vinyl upholstery.
Suddenly it was laughable how ill-equipped he was to deal with this situation. Seriously, he needed a wolf projector attached to his hood to shine into the sky in times of perilous danger. Or a dog whistle.
He was shaking his head, trying to think clearly, logically, to start planning some form of attack. He wasn't about to die with muscle cramp sprawled across his front seat like a wanton teenager in a bad horror film.
His eyes quickly scanned the back in search of anything that could constitute a makeshift weapon, somehow he couldn't imagine his gym bag full of dirty gear was about to do him any favours.
Unless he could somehow stuff a sweaty sock in someone's mouth to earn a little extra time... He started to reach for it anyway (maybe he could carve his cup into a shank?) regretting for the umpteenth time his decision not to buy a personal lacrosse stick.
There was a momentary stand-off during which the wolves simply peered in at him, as if contemplating a puzzle, before the passenger door was wrenched open and he was being dragged from the jeep by the scruff of his jacket, fist gripping a handful of shirt in the motion.
"Whoah, hey, mind being a little less handsy with the fabric dude?" He croaked as he let himself be wrenched into a standing position.
He had been going for cocky, but the dryness in his throat made every syllable sound choked and laboured.
"Seriously," he coughed against the figure he'd been pulled into "It's property of a high-end hunter, she will literally fuck your shit right up if you mess with her wardrobe!"
"Literally...? That's, kind of disgusting." The wolf chuckled as he spun Stiles round to face him, although, he was no longer wolf. The man before him had the same features as the creature that had dragged him, he was wearing the same puzzled look he'd seen as he watched him in the jeep, only altered by the small smirk on his lips, reflecting the amusement in his eyes.
The difference was transformative, literally this time, with the smile in place and the hair and canines carefully tucked away there was little hint of the skeletal face that had loomed over him in the jeep, instead this man was... well, he was beautiful. His eyes were pale and his cheeks hollowed, scattered with stubble that seemed darker than the relatively short crop of hair flicking from his scalp. He features were angular, but in that way defined, drawing his attention along his cheekbones, up to his eyebrows, meeting those light irises again.
The eyes began to shine a bright green shade, a danger warning Stiles was only familiar with, though realisation didn't quite hit him quickly enough as he was thrown forcefully into his own vehicle.
Seriously, he had been hoping never to have to venture close to a car repairs service ever again. But even the smallest of dreams must be shattered it seemed, along with his tailbone if this level of violence was going to keep up.
"Let me keep it simple for you, kid." The female had ventured around the vehicle and was now hovering over the shoulder of the man pinning him. "We want the Alpha. You call him, you get to keep your spleen."
"What if I call him and he doesn't come? Is my spleen still at risk?"
"Oh, Little Red," she tutted, leaning round to tug on his jacket strings "if he doesn't come we're just going to have to gobble you right up." Her voice was sickeningly sweet as she bent closer to sneer at him.
"Gobble. Right. Message received." He nodded. Repeatedly.
Quick succession nodding that continued as he pulled his arms from where they had been instinctively sprawled along the side of his jeep, in a half-hearted attempt to soften the blow as his body was flung against it. He tugged on his jacket as he straightened up, shrugging off the hands that had been pressing him closely to the metal.
To his surprise the male let them fall, hanging loosely at his sides as he watched Stiles. He was just reaching for his cell, located conveniently in his deathtrap clamp of a front pocket when the female snatched his wrist and struck it back against the jeep. She was tutting again.
"Ah, ah, ah, don't even think about it." She sing-sang.
"But you said-"
"I said call him." She snapped with a perfunctory growl which seemed to Stiles' human ears almost exasperated. He was about to explain, in polite, calm tones, the necessity of procuring his cell phone in order to make said call when his attention was wholly occupied by the dull sound of Omega hitting tarmac. He looked over her shoulder in time to watch a huge figure throw its (...claws? Yup, judging by the blood gushing, definitely claws) into the smaller wolf's chest and throw him off to the side of the road.
The female seemed to have lost her interest in Stiles as she launched her ample mass at the intruder, latching onto his back and dragging him towards Stiles. The shewolf screeched as she was sent in the direction of her comrade, yet she landed easily and turned to stalk around the mystery attacker.
The two were matched in strength and speed, their sizes close in height, though she seemed vaster in mass. They circled one another slowly, each calculating their next attack in light of their corresponding power. It was as the shewolf had revolved close to Stiles once more that he saw the stranger's face bathed in the moonlight.
Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. "Boyd you beautiful chocolate man I could kiss you."
The facial expression he got in response was nothing short of stony as the approaching teen muttered "You could try." Before tilting his face to lock eyes with the female and baring his teeth, mouth pink and gaping as he pulled his head back and roared, uncomfortably reminiscent of his Alpha.
They flew together once more, clawing, biting, he could hear flesh being torn as Boyd's teeth flashed dripping blood and fur. He heard once too many the agonised guttural howl that escaped Boyd when she sank her fists into his flanks, sometimes knuckle-deep, before she too screamed in response to his latest barrage of attacks. It was when he shouldered her into the ground, pinning her as his canines scraped along the flesh of her cheek, that Stiles felt a razor sharp grip tighten around his throat. Right. Run. He had forgotten about that.
"We asked for your Alpha, little one" the rough voice whispered at the base of his ear. "Not that this one isn't impressive." He continued as Boyd fought himself free of the female's chokehold.
"But let's see if we can't try that one more time, huh? Before I have to make him come and get you." The last sentence was barely a breath in his ear as the wolf's hand lowered from his neck, only to tighten at his hip and pull him away from the ongoing fight. Stiles turned to face him, ready and eager to do whatever it took to get Derek in the vicinity, Derek and the rest of his badass ensemble. Five wolves vs two, those were Stiles' kinda odds.
He was fortunate at this point to notice the golden eyes shining out from the side of the road. The wolf gripping him didn't seem aware yet, but there was only so long the beta in the bushes could mask their sounds beneath those of the brawling braunys. Only so long before the Omega became aware that snatching-Stiles-time was upon him.
He looked up at the thin face above him, still striking beneath the layers of hair and anger, beauty visible now he'd been shown how to look.
"Okay, I'll call him. Just, let me get my cell."
He reached into his jacket pocket, hoping beyond hope that this plan was not as dumb as it felt.
He was sprinting towards the open road as soon as the Omega's fingers lifted from his waist, darting towards his mouth. He heard a growl of startled indignation as the wolf behind him attempted to claw the sock free from it as swiftly as possible. He looked over his shoulder to see the beast running towards him, face screwed up in anger as he spat haphazardly, no doubt further repulsed by his heightened werewolf senses. Nobody likes a mouthful of sweaty sock on a good day.
The Omega was shaking with rage as he launched at Stiles, only to be tackled himself by the undeniable form of Isaac Lahey, complete with curly Elvis quiff. One day he'd ask Derek why it was their wolf forms chose that particular pop idol's hairstyle to imitate when they changed.
He felt himself teetering forwards with the urge to help the young wolf as he watched the lean outline of the male find his footing and turn towards him, already recovered from the shock of his attack and visibly seething. It was at that moment a hand wrapped around his waist and snatched him back, away from the brawl and his poor, precious jeep. He winced as Isaac went skidding across her hood.
He was thrown into Derek's passenger seat with about as much gentle consideration crumbling brickwork would receive as it faced a wrecking ball. He barely noticed as two figures ran by the door in pursuit of the scrapping.
"There, there Stiles, it's ok Stiles. How about some emotional comfort after your big ordeal?"
"Stiles."
"Don't you Stiles me. I was this close to being werewolf fingerfood because of you!" He waved the hand displaying just how close in Derek's face as he climbed into the driver's seat. "Fingers being just the starter snacks! For the main course we'll be serving fresh human meat with a side of my freaking spleen."
Derek kept his features straight as he turned to face him in an irritated shrugging motion "Stiles, what are you talking about?" He deadpanned.
"The- Gah! Beauty and the beast over there threatening to eat me for an audience with the oh great Alpha"
"They threatened you?"
"What, exactly, did you think you were intruding on? A friendly chit-chat with the Sheriff's son about his future plans for werewolf legislation? "
"Look Stiles, I came when Boyd called. I have no idea what I missed, so just, fill me in. Slowly."
"Alright, alright, I was driving home when... Motherfu- they stoned my jeep! Those furry bastards wrecked my jeep!" He threw his arms in the general direction of his outrage.
"Stiles!" And his attention was forcefully snapped back to Derek. "Fill me in quicker than this."
"Okay, yeah, they stopped my jeep. Must've thrown something at the bumper and she just, broke down. Completely. And there was taunting, and then there was violence, and threats of chowing down on my spleen if I didn't call you-"
"So why didn't you call me?" He could sense his frustration building.
"I tried! But when I went for my phone psycho bitch went... well... psycho-bitchy. Guess it was to be expected."
"Stiles-"
"And then big bad Boyd showed up and the party started, and as you say, he'd already called you, so it's completely reasonable that I then dedicated my time to fiercely protecting my organs."
"You should've called me as soon as they hit the jeep." He was starting the car up now, reversing before launching towards the scene ahead them.
"Sorry I was a bit preoccupied what with the immanent maiming. What was I supposed to do? You're not even on my speed dial man." He grumbled as they swerved past the Betas in the midst of tying chains around the others. "I need a whistle." He muttered.
"You need a what now." The car screeched to a halt. Stiles risked a peek under his eyelashes at Derek's glaring face and instantly regretted it.
"Stupid wolf-hearing" he muttered again, staring out of the window beside him.
"Mention a whistle again and I'll be the one harvesting your organs." He was still staring at him, car firmly halted as he took time out of their journey to glower. Stiles stayed very still, uncomfortably aware of how touchy Derek could be and how these situations always seemed to end in pain for him. He flinched bodily as Derek lurched towards him, hand pulled up as if to slap him with the back of it, instead he pulled away, leaned back into his seat and started the car up. Stiles didn't have to look in the rear view to know he was sporting a smug grin.
"So where are we going?"
"I'm taking you home, we'll talk about this tomorrow." Great. He was in trouble for getting almost mauled by Derek-seeking maniacs. Naturally.
"Wait, what about my jeep?"
"They'll pull it off the road, we'll call a tow in the morning." There was something unsettling in his monotonous tone which told Stiles he had far too much experience dealing with these things.
He groaned. "My Dad is gonna kill mee."
"Stiles, I will kill you if you don't shut up. Just sit quiet."
He punched his fists out ahead of him in frustration.
"And still."
"Aww, c'mon no fair." Those final words were greeted with a warning growl that Stiles, for once, adhered to.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he arrived at his front door, no cruiser in sight.