Chapter Four

Shit Week

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It's weird meeting people for the first time and realizing they know more about your private life than you know about them.

-Michael Sheen

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Derek stumbled out of the bed as white gas filled the room from under the cracks in the windows and door. He grabbed his cane and started to make his way to the adjoining bathroom, it was better than here right?

Stay calm, stay calm. Derek didn't make it halfway before black dots started to fuzz up his vision. Damn it he thought as he hit the ground and men stormed the room.

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Derek woke up in the back of a police car that stank strongly like vomit and mistakes. His hands were cuffed, and the air freshener smelled like faux wolf's bane. They were on a gravel path, with huge fields and open road all around.

The officer made a hard right throwing the wolf forcefully into the other side of the car making Derek growl.

"Shut up you dumb mutt!" The police man's eyes were only on Derek for a second, only off the road for a moment, before a SUV appeared out of nowhere, sped up and rammed itself into the back of the police car.

Derek's head slammed into the metal wall separating the officer from him as glass rained on him. Dizziness followed as the car reared to the left, once again throwing Derek to the other side of the vehicle, making sticky red blood flow from his skull.

The left side passenger door was thrown open and the wolf's blurry vision could make out more red and blue lights off in the distance. A dark figure, African American and maybe 6'3, yanked Derek out of the car, and carried him to the SUV effortlessly like a fire fighter.

Derek's wolf snarled, the man, no doubt a werewolf, jumped into the hatchback of the SUV with Derek before the black jitney drove off again.

"Erica!" the man called to who Derek assumed was the blonde woman driving, "He's not looking so good!"

Another werewolf, a young man around 16 or 17 with curly brown hair, unbuckled his seat and climbed into the hatchback. Derek was seriously getting tired of losing consciousness. For the second time that day his vision went black.

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Stiles learned from the very beginning that when his dad, Deaton, Peter Hale, and Mr. Argent were having a discussion it meant two things: something big was going down, and shut up. Granted it was hard to keep silent but it was worth the information.

"What would happen if the police found him?" Stiles watched as Peter bit his nails, a nervous tick Stiles had picked up on.

Mr. Argent spoke up, "A single police car would take him in for questioning, the less attention they draw the better. We're not the only people after Derek."

Laura Hale, who was also present in the room, spoke up "The radio announced an hour ago that there was a hit and run crash leaving the city, what are the chances my brother was in that car? That he got away?"

Hope blossomed in Peter's face when Mr. Argent spoke again, "Pretty good actually, there's a facility out there. If we can find him before they do, we'll be out of the woods for now,"

John Stilinski shook his head, "They would put out a BOLO, hundreds of people would be looking for him."

Argent disagreed, "With the last name Hale? Every supernatural creature would be out to help him, the hunters know this. Most likely they would put out an APB on the car that took him. Probably play it off as a child abduction."

Stiles continued to watch, between his dad and Chris Argent, both double agents for the rebellion, the newbie alpha sister and know-it-alls Deaton and Peter they might actually find Derek.

"He's smart," Peter said, "He'll get through," The last part sounded like a prayer.

"If he was in that police car the people who took him will probably know what they're doing"

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Derek watched four figures, the three teenagers that kidnapped him who had absolutely no idea what they were doing, and a nurse with long curly brown hair and a motherly vibe.

The kidnappers, clearly clueless betas, were so focused on watching the door and looking at x-rays to notice Derek was awake. If he had to guess this time he woke up in a morgue of a hospital, a step up from the police car and a step down from the shack, especially since Derek wasn't lying on a bed but an embalming table. He shuddered at the thought. Dead people lay here.

Dead. People.

The woman pointed at the x-rays, "He has wooden fragments imbedded in his knee, most likely mountain ash with the way its healing," she yawned, dark circles were under her eyes. Hospital staffs now-a-days were over worked; everyone and their mother were dragging each other in whenever someone got a scratch.

Because a scratch could totally turn someone into a blood sucking monster overnight, Derek thought to himself.

The blonde driver looked over and a look of relief washed over her. She rushed over before stopping at what was the awkward distance of wanting to hug someone but actually having no idea who they were. The two men joined her and the woman with brown hair opened her mouth to say something but never did.

"You're Derek," Erica smiled like it was the best thing in the world.

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Scott met up with Stiles after the adults shooed the eavesdropper out of the stairwell he was sitting in.

The pair were in the main floor of the center warehouse, which was currently being used as a common room, or at least four out of nine floors were common. The rest were top-secret-none-of-your-business-double-spy-office-storage-library-thingys.

Stiles was bouncing his leg up and down and looking at the stairwell, "Dude what are you so worked up about?" Stiles looked at Scott,

"They think they might have found Derek Hale,"

"That guy everyone thinks has information on the hunters?"

"No, dumbass, the sugar plum fairy! Of course it's that Derek Hale!" Stiles snapped.

Scott shook his head, completely used to Stiles sarcasm.

Stiles shifted slightly in his seat and looked at his best friend, "Right now we're not doing so good, ok. A rebellion in New York failed, 38 people were shot and killed. 45 were killed in Cincinnati, 72 in LA, and wherever any shifters, or mages, or anyone shows up, the police cut them down before they can even get a word out. A huge march on Washington was being planned but no one was will go through with it," Stiles folded his hands on the table to keep himself from using full on body movement to explain his point, "Rumor has it that Derek managed to get high profile Intel from Kate Argent-"

"Allison's aunt, yeah?" Scott clarified,

Stiles nodded, "And Chris Argent's sister. Unfortunately, she doesn't share the same view Mr. Argent does. Anyway, packs, convents, everyone and their brother really, are moving here to Beacon Hills, if we can get our numbers up hopefully with Derek's info we'll be able to sort this all out and miss WWIII and a mass genocide all over the world,"

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The woman with brown hair left, her name was Melissa McCall, a nurse at the hospital here. Derek liked her, Erica wasn't yelling when she was here.

"What do you mean you don't have classified files! We put our necks out for you!" She snapped. Isaac (the tall looking one) and Boyd (the African American) were either too lazy or too scared to step in. Judging by their faces the latter was most likely.

Derek snarled, his eyes flashing blue and Erica stepped back startled, "No one asked you to. And I said I don't have it with me, but getting it means a trip through downtown, and, no offence, but I doubt three clueless teenagers and some one who can't walk can make it that far!"

Erica sighed, "Melissa was going to get those shards out of you leg," then the blonde looked down, and this time Derek sighed.

"Get me that scalpel over here," He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. Derek didn't want to think about the amount of dead bodies that thing cut open. He could stomach a lot of things but anything dead in the shape of a human was a slight issue. Hell, missing body parts wasn't even that big of a thing but once you put all the pieces together Derek wanted to hurl.

Isaac moved quickly and grabbed the mental interment and handed it to the older wolf, "Don't you want to wait for the doctor?"

Derek shook his head, "Not a fan of strangers and sharp things."

One by one he cut the pieces of wood out, blood ran down his hands and on to the table. Isaac had the step away and Boyd covered his nose. The only one who had any guts was Erica, who looked oddly intrigued which was somehow worse.

It wasn't terribly hard to get all the wood out, there wasn't a surprisingly large amount of splinters to begin with, but Derek had to cut a couple of times before he could get the mountain ash out before his body could scab over.

It wasn't until Melissa burst through the door screaming cops that he started the worry. This was a shit week if there ever was one.

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Hey pretties, thanks for the few review I got. This was the longest chapter yet, yay. If you have any questions feel free to ask.

And remember; LEAVE A REVIEW!

XOXO

Luna

PS 6-02-14 These are old chapters with fixed grammar, the newest chapter will be up tomorrow.