A/N: Wow guys! Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate the feed back. I hate her, really I do. I'm so glad she's out of the way now, at least in my little fantasy land! That being said, I triggered something I would like to cover in this story as well. I kinda dropped a hint in the beginning of the last story, which would correspond to what happens here. LISTEN. WARNING LOOK HERE. There is trigger warnings for this, my last chapter is complete fluff compared to this one. Its going to be dark and discuss a number of senstive issues, SO if you are afraid, then stop here. Non-Con/Depression/Graphic Content, M for a reason.
So, if you're still with me, yeehaw! I suggest you read it all the way through, since it gets better as it goes. I hope you like it. P.S. I know Derek doesn't have grey eyes.
False.
It was beautiful while it lasted. A sense of peace washed over the pack, once they found out Derek had claimed Stiles as his mate. Derek began to smile again, be happy and whole with his mate and his pack. His pack was at ease, not on edge like they had been before Stiles' changed Derek's outlook on life. Stiles was more than a masterpiece. In fact, that was a complete understatement. The young man was beautiful, sure. Every mole, every curve of his body, the shape of his nose and his deep, honey brown eyes, yes, naturally. His mind, though, took him over the top. His spark, that connected the two on another level, as well. It was like Stiles astro-projected his body, to meet Derek's wolf and drive him out, so he could bury his face in his fur.
It was unbelievable, the connection they shared. Stiles knew when something was wrong with Derek, or he was in danger and Derek the same. The felt each other's emotions, good and bad. They knew just where to touch each other, to drive them over the edge. They wanted the same foods, at the same times and they always had each other's backs. They were perfect. Now, as you all know, that is not a thing. Perfection is temporary at best and with Derek, Stiles and the rest of their make-shift pack, trouble was always looming in the shadows.
It started a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Stiles had been dozing off, finishing up reading a chapter in King Lear for his English class, when he felt it. Sheer panic washed over him, as the half asleep boy shot up in his bed, chest hammering. He felt his mate's panic taking over him as he stumbled out of his bed and down the stairs. Something was wrong, he could feel Derek's heart hammeri- he could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket. Quickly, he fumbled to get it out, see Derek display across the screen.
"Derek, what's going on-"
"Stiles, lock the door and don't open it up for anybody, I will be there when I can." His boyfriend's gruff voice let out, before the line went dead. Stiles let out a frustrated and shaky sigh, before tossing his phone on the couch. So like Derek, to leave him hanging in his distressed state. He had made it half way to the stairs, when he heard his bedroom window being shut and Stiles sighed contently, letting the worry wash out of him. His Sourwolf was quick. Trotting up the stairs, Stiles pushed his bedroom door open and smiled at the handsome man that was his. Derek stood, starring at him intently. Stiles pecked his jaw, before beginning to speak.
"Why did you feel that way? God I still feel panic-y and you're standing right in front of me." Derek huffed in response, before advancing on the boy, crowding him up against his now closed door. Stiles felt his pants begin to tighten, in anticipation, but something in Derek's grey, clouded eyes was not right. Stiles felt his own panic now rising in his chest, as Derek shoved him against the door until it pushed open. Derek pushed stiles towards the open bathroom door, before advancing on him again. Screams erupted from Stiles as Derek threw Stiles up against the counter, pushing his face into the mirror. This stone cold, silent man pinned Stiles there, with his hips, before using rough hands to rip both their pants down. Stiles struggled to get away for a moment, until the man was shoving his length in, dry. Stiles let out a howl of agony and attempted to wriggle free again, but was unsuccessful under his unearth grip of his hips. Tears billowed out of the smaller's eyes.
"Stop stop STOP, Derek, please!" Stiles pleaded as Derek began to smash into him, letting his head hit the glass until it broke. Stiles was bleeding now, he could feel it drip down his leg as this monster ripped into him, Stiles felt the bond between them weakening, hatred taking over. Derek began biting him, wherever he could. This was not a playful nip. In fact, before pain numbed him 3 bites in, Stiles' cries could probably be heard down the block. No, Derek was breaking skin, blood was pouring out. Derek was lapping it up, sucking it out. Stiles watched, horrified in the mirror, before Derek smashed his face against it again, effectively breaking his nose. Stiles felt weak, tired and in so much pain. "Please, stop.." He tried, in a pathetic voice. Derek did not listen. He fucked Stiles raw, cumming in him a few moments later, before Derek bashed his skull against the sink and left Stiles, unconscious on the floor.
Derek was on edge, the moment the scent wafted through the air. The scent of a shapeshifter was putrid enough, but with the musky scent of a rival Alpha coating him, it was hard to miss. He felt the bond between Stiles and him jump alive, as the panic rose and Scott looked helplessly to his Alpha.
"We have to go," Derek said, immediately catching and following the scent, Scott close behind him. The pair where out of the loft with in seconds, running as quickly as they could towards the scent, which upsettingly enough was in the direction of his mate's house. He found himself calling Stiles immediately, warning him quickly not to open the door, before hanging up. Later, he would regret that. Later, he would wonder if he had told Stiles that a shapeshifter was about, would things have been different? But now? Now he was booking it through the woods with his Beta, trying desperately to reach his mate. Trying to be there to rescue him in time.
He could feel the anguish writhing on their bond, it was almost painful enough to stop him in his tracks, but he pushed through it. He knew it was too late, but he had to try. They were so close... and then? Then it felt like the line went dead and he thought, maybe that Stiles was dead. He wanted to howl into the wind, in anger, fear, desperation. He had to get his mate.
They made it there about 5 minutes too late. The scent hit Derek like a fucking bullet, as soon as he pushed the window up. Scott let out a terrified gasp, before whispering about the scent being hot, and Scott couldn't bare to see his best friend in the condition he was in, so he chased it. Derek had to brave on. He climbed through the with wide eyes, trying to be brave. The scene before him, once he stepped through the bedroom door, did not allow that. The Alpha broke down in a sorrowful howl, scooping his battered mate into his arms. He saw the semen, still leaking out, he say the blood mixed with it. He saw all of those damn bites and wanted them gone. The boy was laying in his own fucking blood and it was Derek's fault for not being fast enough.
This was all his fault.
When Stiles woke up, he was in the back of the vet clinic. Scott was sitting at the foot of his bed, watching him closely. The tears already began to fall out of his eyes as the memories came rushing back. Oh, and there was also the pain. That could also make him cry. Scott looked to his friend, reaching for his hand.
"Stiles, do you know who did this to you? Did you see their face?" Scott asked, inching closer to his injured best friend. He had been out for almost two days. Stiles whimpered slowly, eyes darting around the room. He knew his attacker was there, in the shadows.
"I-I can't," Stiles whispered, looking to his friend helplessly and Scott shook his head.
"We're alone, you have to tell me Stiles. I have to know." Stiles felt his body begin to shake with sobs, before he weakly mentioned Derek's name and Scott looked at him, incredulously. "Stiles... Derek was with me before we found you.."
Stiles head shot up, eyeing his best friend. He knew Scott would never lie to him, especially when Stiles was in this condition and especially, especially not to cover Derek's ass. Stiles let out a shaky breath, trying to feel his mates bond. It was faint, but there. Obviously strained and damaged. Stiles was damaged. He had just watched a Not-Derek, Derek rape him, in his bathroom, up against a mirror. He watched it happen. Who could have done it, if not Derek? Stiles let up a wet sound, looking up at the sky.
"From your injuries, it would confirm that you were not attacked by a werewolf.. or human, for that matter," Deaton's cryptic voice rose from the door and Stiles let out a yelp, obviously jumpy. He eyed the black male, before Deaton began to speak again. "It seems as though we have a shapeshifter on our hands. Leech-like creatures, as you can see..." he said, before holding up Stile's arms and showing him the round wounds.
"But why target me?"
"We think that they work for an Alpha. We think they are trying to destroy Derek's pack." Scott finished and Stiles thought silently, for a while. It would make sense. It could easily be that same Alpha Braeden was plotting with. If Derek were to actually rape his mate, the pack mom, on the same level as Derek if not more. The pack could easily turn on him. Hate him. Abandon him and go to a new Alpha, which is what they wanted. They wanted Stiles and the pack to run, opened armed to the people who actually did this to him.
Stiles was furious and he felt Derek's and his bond rip alive, connection stabilizing, rebooting. To think they had almost succeed in destroying the pair. Stiles knew it would be hard, to look Derek in the eye after what had happened, but damn it, he would do it. Those grey eyes tattooed themselves in his vision and- he paused at that thought.
"Derek has green eyes." Stiles said, allowed and Scott looked at him funny. "Derek has green eyes and this thing had grey eyes. I didn't think about it until now, but Scott we can use that. If he.. If it comes back," Stiles finished sorrowfully. The reality of it all was sickening and very, very possible.
He knew this, because Scott didn't respond and his head hung low in almost shame.
Needless to say, though they had their bond back, it took Stiles a while to see Derek. It was pathetic and Derek looked like a kicked puppy and Stiles wanted to grab him and kiss him but couldn't, because all he saw was... his bathroom. It took him a month or two, before he could be around him, alone.
Derek was patient, though. He knew that Stiles was trying and it was damn hard, because even though Derek didn't really attack him, he knew that's all Stiles could see. So he didn't push his limits. He didn't kiss Stiles first, but he always kissed him back, but never let it go past a brief make out session. He could feel Stiles' panic and he would stop and wrap his mate in a loving hug, as if to remind him that he would never, ever hurt him like that.
Stiles was truly thankful for such a patient mate, and slowly, they worked through it together, but the pain was still underlying the bond. Derek knew how hurt his mate truly was and never strayed to far. The fear of Stiles doing something stupid was all too real. He knew his mate was on edge, and smelt more-so of pills than before. Different pills, stronger pills, that left him sedated and speaking in a slurred tongue.
Derek hated them. He hated them, because he could not do that for his mate. He could not calm his mate, make him feel safe. They both felt the panic, every time Stiles and Derek were alone for the first 10 minutes or so and Derek hated it. He knew Stiles was waiting for the next time, when it wouldn't be Derek. When all of their progress would fly out the window, because the shape shift would come back and do it all again, even though he knew his eyes would be different. How could he stop it? Derek swore he would stop it, but he still hated it. Almost as much as he hated himself, for the whole incident. For Stiles to even be in this position, he could have, should have stopped it and he didn't. He will stop it next time and he knew their would be a next time.
Shortly after the incident, Derek had spoke to the Sheriff. He told him everything that went on between the two. About Stiles' spark and how they were mated. Then, regretfully about the shapeshifter. He asked if he could stay there, to protect Stiles. He swore to the Sheriff that he'd never let it happen again. After some pleading from Derek, the Sheriff agreed. So Derek never left Stiles side, even if Stiles had no idea he was near him. He would not let it happen again.
Being around Derek had been a less than easy. The flash backs and panic only took over, when he was first with him. Those initial 10 or 15 minutes when he first saw Derek, he would search his eyes and make sure that they were what they should be. His heart would hammer for a little while longer, waiting for it to come again and then he would be... okay.
That wasn't really the bad part, because once the took some lorazapam, he was good to go. In fact, he almost felt normal. Derek, however, was not normal, he was far from okay. In fact, he radiated sadness and guilt and Stiles? Stiles couldn't fucking deal with it, so he got the balls to not be afraid anymore and trust Derek's fervent promises that he would always be there, now. That Stiles would never be alone again. He trusted his mate and worked on his bond and he made peace. But Derek still looked like a dog that just ate his master's steak.
Stiles was going to end this.
He lay in bed, one night, noting that Derek was looming outside his open window, the warm breeze blowing in. He knew Derek was perched on the branch outside, keeping a vigilant eye over Stiles' window, he could feel their bond and feel his wolf, content with being so close to his mate. Reveling in the fact that his mate was safe and he just knew. He knew Derek would keep him safe, and that it was really him and God, did he fucking want him.
"Please come in here," Stiles whispered to the air, knowing very well the Alpha heard him, outside. Not seconds later, Derek gracefully pulled himself into the window and looked down at his mate with a serious demeanor.
"What's w-"
"Don't, just, come here and lay down with me." Derek stared down at his mate, intensely, wanting nothing more than to comply. So he did, Stiles had asked, he was not pushing his limits. Stiles pulled Derek on top of him, before leaning up to catch his lips in a kiss. Derek kissed back, slowly, gently and Stiles hummed against him.
"Do you love me?" Stiles asked, looking into those green eyes. His mate chuckled down at him, before kissing him again, chastely.
"More than anything," he replied, fondly and Stiles smiled, before tugging Derek down for a more intense kiss, hips bucking against him.
"Then, please make love to me," he whispered, lustfully and Derek stopped for a moment. Stiles glared at him. "Derek, you can't blame yourself for this and I want to feel you, I want to feel what its like with love again, not with hate. Derek you have to fix-"
Derek took his mate in a deep kiss, knowing exactly what he was going to say. Lydia had said it to him, awhile ago. It was always gonna be his job to fix him and that was okay, because Stiles always fixed Derek.
As expected, things did go down again. In fact, it happened that night, right then. When they were seriously about to get it on, that mother fucker comes walking up the stairs! Derek hopped off his mate, disappearing into the shadows, just before the shapeshifter entered the room. His disgusting, grey eyes roamed over Stiles' chest and hips and- Derek bit back a growl. The creature came it what Derek thought to be his true form, a pale skinned ugly looking dude with short black hair. He was thin, bones poking out of his tight skin.
He looked... hungry.
Derek lunged at the kid, who was weak and easily fell to Derek's muscle. Stiles, near panic mode, rushed from the bed and snatched up his phone. The wolf had the creature pinned and was slashing at his body with such fury. As quickly as his hands could hit the buttons, and three rings in, Stiles was on the phone with Scott, conveniently who was with most of the rest of the pack (seeing as they heard Derek's roar) and where on their way. Thank the stars.
Once Stiles hung up, he heard a crash from a shattering window, downstairs. Derek's eyes pinned the bedroom door as he rose from the lifeless body, towards the sound of the noise. He could smell the other Alpha and his Betas prowling towards the stairs. Luckily for them, Scott and the rest of the pack came through his window, causing a gasp of relief to escape Stiles. That same second, the door to his bedroom slammed open, and the hungry Alpha peered inside. The pack was on him in a second, attacking with all their might and Stiles shrunk back, into his closet. He closed his eyes as waves of panic washed over him.
The packs clashed, but Stiles could only hear the ringing in his ears. He could only feel his skin tighten dangerously around his ribs, constricting them. The panic attack took him by storm, world going black as he slumped against the back of his closet.
His only hope, was that Derek and the rest of them would pull through.
When Stiles woke up, his was in Derek's brightly lit loft. The soft pump of the bond in his veins, beneath his skin ever so evident. It seems as though they had won, or at least the two of them had survived. The low sound of Scott and Isaac talking to each other, near him on the couch and Lydia's laugh from the kitchen confirmed more.
Stiles felt a divot in the bed and his eyes adjusted to the hulking mass that caused it. His mate was smiling down at him, happy to see his eyes open. Stiles smiled back. He knew it had only been a night, panic attacks never really knocked him out for longer. But the happiness seeping through the bond had said it all. Derek always feared the worse.
"It's over," Derek said, leaning down to kiss his mate gently. Stiles decided not to push into that to much. Over for now, he would have said and he would have been right. A few member of the rival pack had managed to escape with their lives. Derek thought it doubtful they'd ever return, considering they watched Derek basically eat his fucking heart for fucking with his mate and pack.
Stiles stared up at his love, longingly. All that mattered to him was the death of the monster that tried to destroy their bond, tried to destroy Stiles.
It was later that night, they were alone. Stiles had opted to stay at the loft with Derek for now. He felt safer, happier, calmer. Plus, they had some unfinished business that was oh so rudely interrupted by a certain rival pack of wolfs. And Stiles was tired of feeling like a porcelain doll. And he was sick of Derek walking on eggshells around him, even though they almost got it on, the night before.
It was over and it was time to close the wounds.
Stiles had Derek up against the door of his locked bedroom, kissing him hungrily. Derek kissed back, just as fierce and desperate. The youngest hooked his fingers into his belt loops and began to drag him back, towards the Alpha's bed. He spun, shoving the man towards the matress, while gracefully removing his shirt. The wound had healed, he was a blank canvas and he wanted Derek to fill it with his own painting. Derek knew.
He pulled his mate down on to his lap, kissing up the front of his should, gentle nipping and sucking at the skin, drawing the most delicious moans out of the boy. Stiles was already shaking in anticipation, he wanted this so badly. To be normal again, so badly. Derek flipped the pair, pushing his lover into the mattress where he took him in another kiss, before pushing both their pants down. Stiles reached in the nightstand for the lube.
It was scary at first, feeling his cold, lubed dick slide into his puckering hole. He feared for a moment, the same thing would happen, but Derek washed all those fears away with a tender kiss that struck the main chords of their bond. Stiles let out a low sound, forcing Derek to push into him a little harder. Another succulent noise, of pleasure not pain. Derek couldn't get enough. His mate's skin glistened, a light coating of sweat taking over his bucking body. His lips were slightly parted, eyes half lidded, glazed with a lustful look that was directed towards the Alpha. Derek could barely stand it. He moved inside the boy at a slow, deliberate pace, sucking up every moan and cry in tender kisses.
"God damn it, go." Stiles hissed, shoving his hips towards the base of his cock. Wanting- no needing more. Needing all of it. Derek obliged, pushing into his mate at a quicker pace, before taking his throbbing cock in his hand and pumping it to the rythym of his thrusts. It didn't take long for Derek to drive Stiles over the edge, sending him into a astronomical daze. Derek wasn't far behind, at the sight of his beautiful mate being carried to the brink of indulgence. As soon as Stiles' back arched and Derek's name fell from his lips, Derek was pouring his knot in the the boy below him, before showering him with kisses.
"I love you"
"I love you too, Sourwolf. Now shuddup and lets go again, that was far to long."
FIN.
A/n: I hope you liked it. If not, oh well. Review!
