The Howling

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Buildings ripped past Scott and blended into shapeless blurs, eventually becoming trees. Smells of pine and dirt filled the air. He was running, running far away as fast as he could. Flashes of red images, flushed with sweat and shame, continuously showed themselves. Where was he going? Where had he come from?

"Don't. Touch me."

Oh, that's right.

Stiles, Scott knew, was far away and back in his bedroom. But even from where he was the scent of raw rage lingered. Scott could still smell him despite the good seventeen miles he'd covered. He could still feel him too, his heartbeat, his breathe, his warmth—

Bare feet slapped against tar, and he onwards he trudged. Something soft and sweet tickled at his memory, along with pleasure and frustration. Scott didn't recognize the feeling, or what they meant, but it was proving to be maddening. Why else was he roaming around in the night? Other than he was a werewolf and there was a half-moon out.

He'd basically dry-humped his best friend. Only it hadn't been completely mutual, even he knew that, but he hadn't been able to control himself, he really hadn't—

"Shit," Scott's voice sounded broken.

He paused by a stop sign, hunching his back. The shirtless running had chilled him to the bone. He'd felt so good, amazing, only moments ago, and Stiles hadn't minded until the end. But what did that mean? His thoughts were still fuzzy, the healing factor taking its sweet ass time to kick in. He was awake, wasn't he?

Scott didn't like this; it felt like he was dreaming again, only there was no mist or Stiles to save him. His arms suddenly wrapped around the stop sign for the purpose of balance, his hoodie, shirt, and sneakers dropping to the road with a soft thud.

If he could, he would've passed out right then and there, but with the alpha running around he knew better. Scott clutched the red sign to his body, trying to steady his breathing. In another few minutes he'd go home.

"Out for a nightly run?" Derek's voice appeared out of nowhere. Scott gasped and released the now bent stop sign, staggering into the middle of the road. Thank God he'd had enough sense to travel down this familiar stretch of road, surrounded by forest and vacant of pedestrians. Well, hopefully. He wasn't sure if Derek was above killing humans.

"What do you want?" Scott screeched, inwardly cursing puberty. His glowing eyes darted from one side of the road to the other, claws extending.

He paused, listened to Derek's shifting movements, and snarled.

"We need to talk."

His voice was closer now, but coming from the woods directly behind Scott. Soon he smelt him, finally, but Derek's movements changed. He was higher now, in a tree.

And then Derek was airborne, right above him. He jumped back, Derek slowly standing up from where he'd landed, and when he came at Scott he flipped the older werewolf over his shoulder. Derek, sporting his usual leather jacket and jeans, tumbled into a cluster of bushes and landed hard. He growled. Loudly.

Oh, shit.

Scott didn't fend as well with the second attempt, and literally saw stars when Derek's fist collided with his jaw. He wasn't sure if the cracking sound that accompanied his pain was from broken bone or the lone stop sign he'd just further damaged.

"W-What the—" Scott felt himself jerked upwards, by Derek of course, and pushed into the woods. Down and through a ditch, he felt twigs and stones poking and cutting his feet, and he cried out once his back met the bark of an old tree. He was healing, though. His jaw already felt better. Perhaps all it took was a nice slap from reality for healing to take place.

"That was uncalled for." Scott visibly winced, like a child who'd been caught wandering the hallways after being put to bed. Derek's voice was acidic.

"You started it."

Derek had a firm hold on both sides of his arms, and Scott feared he might not be able to break away even if he could see straight. Might as well plea for his life before Derek ripped his throat out, 'cause he looked pissed.

A car brushed past on the elevated road, almost too quick for either of them to notice. No matter, Derek didn't break his glare, and Scott felt like he couldn't breathe.

"So you've been fucking." Well, Scott's face must have mirrored his surprise because Derek immediately let up. He took a step back but remained in Scott's personal space—something he was getting used to—and crossed his arms. He was not pleased. Usually guys high-fived after saying something like that, but then again Derek was a werewolf, and Scott knew he was onto him.

He just knew shit, about everyone Scott was close to, and it always surprised him.

"You don't smell like her," Derek continued. "You smell like him." Scott's lips curled inwards and he shook his head, looking away simultaneously. He guessed the 'her' was reference towards Allison, but he really didn't want to think about her right now.

"Did you mark him?" Scott's head jerked back, his face once more deceiving the face he wanted to portray. Derek raised his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. He probably had all night to do so.

"No," Scott replied in a short breath. "I didn't." Not that he knew exactly what 'marking' meant, but it had to do with becoming a werewolf. And Stiles was most definitely still human, Scott could still smell him…

"Okay, Scott." Derek kept his eyes half-open, looking at him in the way that made Scott feel like a criminal.

He was though, wasn't he?

"I don't want another werewolf to have to keep in line," said Derek. "And it's obvious you can't control yourself around him—or her." Scott winced again. Yeah, he was pissed alright, he was always pissed, but it never ceased to catch Scott of guard. And what was becoming more disarming was that Derek knew he and Stiles had been…doing something. Scott felt something like guilt boiling in his stomach.

Another two cars passed, one of them blasting their music loudly. Scott felt the vibrations trail through his feet and up his spine, causing him to shiver. He was so sensitive to things like that now, and it didn't help that he was sweaty and shirtless.

"I never asked for your advice," Scott mumbled, eyes drifting to the side, then back to the other werewolf.

Derek was visibly trying not to lash out and break Scott's face in. He exhaled through his nose and continued on. "Just tell me exactly what happened, what you did." Scott's eyes scrunched up. In the distance an owl hooted, once, twice, and a third time. Scott tried to find the right words but none were coming to mind, nothing but Stiles.

"What did you do to him?" Derek's arms were still crossed. Scott knew was caught; he just couldn't admit what he'd done. Partially because he didn't know what he did, partially because he knew it had been wrong.

"What," Derek repeated, slower this time, "did you do to him?"

Scott's nostrils flared and he turned, back still pressed against the uncomfortable tree. "I don't know," and that was the truth. He looked up to Derek, who carefully studied his mouth.

"Did you fuck him?"

"No," immediately snapped Scott. Some of the tension drained from Derek and he uncrossed his arms. He didn't say anything, and the younger boy realized he was expecting more of an explanation.

"We just…" he sighed and looked to the ground. His limbs suddenly felt limp and useless. Derek didn't do anything, didn't move, and Scott thought he'd stopped breathing until he spoke.

"What? Touched each other?"

Scott nodded immediately, head hanging down in shame. Derek's face and tone remained unchanged. "And…? Something else must've happened—"

"No, nothing else happened, Derek," said Scott, neck snapping his head back up. "Get off my fucking back—"

Derek's face twisted, his head turned down, shoulders squared. "Well neither of us would be here if you hadn't decided to go fuck with your boytoy human—"

"Fuck you Derek," Scott snarled and began to edge away from the tree.

Derek lunged at him then, teeth bared, and grabbed his right wrist. "We need to talk about this, you idiot! You have no idea what you've fucking—"

"Just let me go!" Scott screamed, ripping himself away from Derek with such a force that the other male jerked back.

"What do you want from me anyway?" he continued, voice echoing through the thick trees. "Isn't my life fucked up enough as it is? Why couldn't you stay away, you and that fucking alpha," Scott blubbered, face stained with tears. His body began to shake with a familiar 'flight or fight reflex' kicking in.

"Scott, calm—"

"Leave me alone, just leave both me and Stiles the hell alone!" And with that Scott gritted his teeth and took off into the night. Derek stood staring at the other side of the small clearing, eyes blinking rapidly. His mind had already pieced the current situation together, but Derek needed to go to Stiles. Even if Scott hadn't bitten or scratched him, that didn't mean the human was any safer from the alpha than he and Scott were.

If anything, he was in more danger. Scott had been messing with the human's pheromones, Derek knew this for sure. The pup had giving off erratic waves of pheromones, unwittingly the whole time, though Derek only remained immune as he could easily deflect it.

But when it came to humans, their pheromones were extremely sensitive. Scott obviously had no control over himself, and Derek was sure it had a negative effect on Stiles.

He tipped his head back and sniffed. Yeah, the human was as good as dead. No alpha would be swayed away from that scent, especially when there was a trail of it leaking through the woods.

"Stupid kids," Derek said to himself before disappearing in the opposite direction of the woods.

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A/N: Wow, I just gotta say thank you for all your reviews and critiques. This chapter was so dramatic.

Hope you enjoyed it anyway, and once more, thanks for reading! :-]

OH RIGHT, hang on, about episode 7; I refuse to acknowledge what Scott did. Totally sold Derek out (yes I just contradicted myself). You bastard, Scott. Feel my fan-rage in this fictional story! Rawr~! Yeah I get it, things will work out, but I love Derek. Ok, I'm done, good night.