A Drop Of Ink In Water

VII & VIII

It ran during the night. It's past midnight when the black Camaro passes in the a desert street, bright lights shining in the dark. A ragged man hides when a ray brushes his arm, disappearing into the darkness. The car stops in front of an old building, lights switching off. The driver gets off the car and walks towards the building. The heavy doors blocking then entry doesn't resist his strong grip when he pulls it. Without knocking he lets himself inside.

There's no electricity and most of the windows are either condemned or broken but the man barely pays attention to the obscurity. The place looks abandoned but he can hear the sound of two beating heart upstairs. He climbs the stairs and arrives at the second floor. He lets himself be guided by his earing and soon sense of smell, he turns to the left and steps toward the door at the end of the corridor. The door is half opened and he can see the two silhouettes inside. Derek rolls his eyes. He should have known at the rate of the heartbeats what kind of scene he was about to witness.

Peter is on his bed, standing on both knees. Naked. Hips moving in a slow rhythm as he buries himself deeper and deeper in Jackson. The younger's breathes are hashed, on all fours he's panting mouth opened and eyes closed. Peter is firmly maintaining his ass in place, fingers dipping in the soft skin. He gives another push, stronger, hastier, that makes Jackson shiver from head to toes. Peter leans on the other, chest against back. One of his hands reaches Jackson aching cock. He starts jerking him off. The boy gets louder, sighs heavy. Peter presses wet kisses at the side of his exposed neck, a smile hanging on his lips. Then in a sudden movement, he brings both Jackson and himself on knees. His rhythm accelerates, hips moving impatiently as his hand keeps stroking. Jackson has to reach the nape of Peter's neck not to lose his balance. Peter opens a lascivious eye that falls on his nephew. Derek gives him a dark stare. Peter holds it for a few seconds before shutting his eyes again and throwing his head back. He comes in a long groan. Jackson follows him not long after.

Derek lets out an exasperated sigh as he watches his uncle put a grey robe over a clean boxer. The room is really different from the rest of the building. While the first floor is nothing but white, cold walls soiled by humidity and lack of care, Peter's room is strangely clean and well-equipped. It has a king sized bed, a working halogen lamp, a desk and running water. Jackson, butt still exposed, passes shamelessly next to him. He gives him an insolent smile before locking himself in the bathroom.

"Isn't he lovely?" Peter says and then sits comfortably on the bed whose sheets are still messy.

Derek glowers at him.

"Come on, sit."

The alpha watches around him, disgust twitching the corners of his mouth. After what he just saw, he doesn't really want to touch anything. He was sure Peter knew he was coming, he must have known. He ignores the invitation and stays on his two feet in a distance that doesn't require him lower his eyes too much to look at his uncle. Peter doesn't insist.

"So to what do I owe this pleasant visit? I was in the middle of something…." He chuckles at his own comment. "But family comes first so… what's wrong?"

Derek begins to pace nervously.

"I came to talk about – about Stiles." He commences hesitantly. His uncle gives him a look indicating him to continue talking but the alpha stays silent. He makes an eye move toward the closed door. He doesn't want that boy to overhear their conversation and spill it all out to his little friends.

"Don't mind about him. Jackson can't hear you and I don't think he cares anyway." Peter reassures him with a smile which Derek suspects is a mocking one.

He nods anyway, choosing to trust his uncle.

"So, what about Stiles? You did follow the plan, didn't you?"

Derek nods again, rubbing his hands together, eyes glued to the ground. He looks very tired, lost and ashamed, tan pale like he didn't have a good night of sleep for days. "I don't think this is going to work." He's stumbling on his words, showing a vulnerable side of himself he reveals to no one else. "He's not -. He's not receptive. This is not working. I should just stop doing this and –"

"No, no. You stick to the plan."

"But-"

"Look," Peter gestures his hands the way people do when they want to explain very simple things to a slow-minded. "I know people like Stiles - I had sex with people like Stiles." Derek jaw clenches. "You have to let him come to you or he will run away. Being yourself… No, you're too pushy. You'll rush in like a bull – you already did and it didn't really work like you wanted, did it? No, you have to slowly make yourself a place into his world till he can't make a step without seeing you or thinking about you. You want him, right?"

"Yes." The younger admits, lips tight.

"Then, follow my advices. He will fall right into your arms."

Derek sighs. He rubs his eyes with the tip of his fingers, brows furrowing in frustration. Dark rings under his eyes.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Peter. I should probably forget all of that and never go to that place again. I've never been like this since –. " He doesn't finish his sentence, gaze suddenly empty.

His uncle studies him, face blank.

"You know love can –. " Peter starts but Derek interrupts him.

"This is not love." He says violently. "This is something else. Sexual attraction. That's it. Nothing more."

The older raises two eyebrows, shocked by the ferocity of his nephew's tone. He didn't think it was that bad. He knew Derek had trouble with relationships. Thinking of it he hadn't seen him involved with anyone since he was a teen. Since Kate.

"Ok, call it whatever you want to." Peter tries in a diplomatic tone. He doesn't need another argument with his nephew. "Just do as I say and it will be okay."

Derek shakes his head, agreeing. However, the preoccupied expression doesn't leave his face.

"This is not what it's all about, right?" Peter deduces, inclining his head on the side.

"It's Isaac. He left. I don't know where he is." The alpha mutters looking much older that his twenty-seven years old. Life really wasn't easy on him. The thought made Peter feel a little uncomfortable.

"He will come back. He can take care of himself." Peter deadpans. Then, he stands to open the door.

Derek's eyes are lost in the contemplation of the carpet he doesn't really seem to see.

"Go back home. You need some sleep."

"Yeah…"

He leaves shoulders low.

"I thought that he may know a cure."

Scott is tying his shoelaces. He changed into a simple pair of jeans and blue tee-shirt putting the usual fancy clothes he wore while working in his locker.

"There is no cure Scott. I already told you!"

They're in the change room, it's 4 am and they're both exhausted.

"You don't know. You can't just Google everything." Scott groans, throwing his friend an annoyed glare.

"Well, I can actually. You know research guy." Stiles makes a vague circle around his face with a finger, returning the look. He understands Scott wanting to be fully human again. Since he had been bitten in high school, he had been nothing but angst and despair. He wanted Scott to find a cure, he really did, and nothing would make him happier to see his best friend be as cheerful as he was when they were kids. But becoming buddy with Derek? No. From what he had read, the alpha was pretty intense about the werewolf thing. He wasn't sure he would appreciate Scott's desire to toss away what he called "a gift".

"Listen, you said it yourself. Derek, is a born werewolf. Maybe he knows something… "

Scott had this sad puppy look on his face that Stiles had always trouble to resist to.

"You think he will help you?"

"He said he would."

"Yeah, right!" Stiles sniggers. "You trust that?"

"No!" The werewolf sighs again running an anxious hand through his hair. "I don't know… Listen, I have to try. This is maybe my last chance to ever become normal again. I have to try! And Derek, I don't think he's a bad guy. Not that bad. He's just… weird."

"And you deduced that in what? Fifteen minutes? Seriously, dude? What the hell?" He blurts. Scott puts his jacket on, throws his bag over his shoulder and starts walking toward the door ignoring his friend. "Hey, where are you going? This conversation is not done!" Stiles follows him through the corridors leading to the exit. He halts when Scott shoots him an irritated look. They're in the hall now. "Scott?"

"Look, I have to go." His friend says tetchily. "I'll see you later." He closes the door behind him.

Stiles curses under his breath. Like always Scott wasn't going to listen to him. He was going to put himself into trouble and Stiles will have to bail him out of it. It was the same thing since kindergarten. Scott did mistakes and Stiles had to fix them. Even if he was tired to be the nice sidekick, he couldn't let his friend down when he thought he was doing something dangerous. He groans in frustration. He needed to find a way to keep an eye on Scott to make sure he didn't get himself killed.

Scott is driving back home. Behind the wheel, he can't help but think about the conversation he just had with Stiles. Sometimes, he really doesn't understand his friend. Couldn't Stiles understand how important it was for him to find a cure? He had been a werewolf since high school, bitten in the woods by a wolf. It had been Stiles' idea to go out that night, maybe if he hadn't followed him he would still be a normal human. Having normal problems like paying the bills or girls. No, he had agreed to Stiles' stupid idea to do a night excursion in the woods to find god knows what. What did he get in return? A fucking curse! All of that because of Stiles!

He regrets the thought the moment it crosses his mind. He knew Stiles felt remorseful and had tried to help him deal with his knew condition. He did in a way. Thanks to him, he had been able to control the shifts and managed not to kill anybody during those seven years. Managing to control himself had been hard, yes, but after all those years working at controlling it. He thought he was now pretty good at it. It was still tough from time to time during the full moon, but he dealt with it. However, that didn't mean he was happy to be a monster.

What was Stiles' problem anyway? He wasn't a fool. He knew not to trust Derek Hale, he just wanted to use him to get information nothing more. Derek didn't leave them a very good first impression. The way he attacked Stiles the first time he saw him was the proof he wasn't really right in his mind. Stiles had told him Derek hadn't tried anything since then but Scott was suspecting his friend was hiding things from him. If Derek was a possible threat, he had one more reason to get close to him. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, that what they said in movies. Scott realized that this saying was probably more accurate that he had thought.

Plus, he could use experience from another werewolf. He had been alone all those years. The only one of his kind, he thought. During his teen years he had knew no werewolf. He had had no one to teach him beside Stiles and his mad research skills. Sometimes, he had been able to sense that particular smell in town that told him that maybe he wasn't alone. But he had never been able to catch the owner. When Peter had shown to the Moon for the first time, he had been completely astonished. He wasn't alone. Hope to find answers and help had pierced through his heart but every bit of hope had vanished when he had discovered what kind of person Peter was. The man was clearly mad, twisted and perverted in every wrong ways.

He was starting to think that he would never find help when Derek had showed up. Derek wasn't the kind of mentor he had expected. God, he was so far from it. Derek wasn't perfect with his unfriendly glare, brooding face and his uncontestable anger management issues. But, watching him, he didn't get the same feeling he had for Peter. Derek, unlike his uncle, wasn't evil. That was how Scott felt like. Of course he would never become friend with him, but that didn't mean he couldn't be civilized with him. When he had gone to talk to him, Derek had been surprisingly polite and friendly. He was a little cold, not the kind of people Scott was used to spend time with, but he hadn't tried to kill him so Scott thought it was a good sign.

He turns on the indicator and turns to the right. He has to take the road that crosses the woods to go home. He still lives with his mother. Stiles had proposed him to share a flat in the city to be closer from work, he couldn't deny how cool that would have been to be roommates with his best friend. But he had finally declined, preferring to stay with his mother. He didn't feel like leaving her, yet. His mother was strong he knew it, but she was also fragile in a lot of ways. He couldn't leave her live by herself in this big house full of memories that were sometimes not so pleasant. He also secretly hoped that the day he'd leave home would be the one he would move in with the person he would share the rest of his life with. He was only twenty-two, he still had time.

He drums his fingers on the wheel as a soft song starts playing on the radio. He hums trying not to think about his problems anymore. He let himself be relaxed by the music. He feels it working as the tension in the back of his neck eases.

All of sudden, he sees something move in the branches at his right, the second later his car hits something brutally. He immediately stops the car, hitting the brake pedal with strength making the tires whistle. The car immobilized, he tries to see what he just hit, hand still clenched on the wheel. He gawks when he sees a person lying on the floor. He gets off the car hastily and crouches next to the man curled up on the floor.

"You okay?" He asks patting the man shoulder as the other whines in pain hands on his wounded leg. "I'm going to call an ambulance! Don't move!" He gets a grip on his phone and starts typing the numbers but a hand on his fist stops him.

"No. I'm fine. Don't." The man says. Even though they're both enlightened by the lights of his car, he can't see the man's face that is turned on the opposite side.

"You're obviously not fine! Let me call –"

"I said don't." The man reiterates finally turning his head to face him. Scott gapes in surprise. The man's eyes glow as the light hits his face. They're golden.

Scott watches in shock as the man painfully gets up, bones cracking as the healing process finishes. He's still squatted on the ground at the man vanishes in the woods without a sound. He stays immobile for a moment, eyes still focused between the trees where the man disappeared.

Regaining his senses he notices something on the ground. It's a wallet. Aroused by curiosity he opens it and starts inspecting it. Twenty dollars, a family portrait, a silver ring… He finally finds a ID. The man, the werewolf is named Isaac Lahey.

TBC

Eeerr... No sterek interraction in this chapter either. I promise the next chapters are full of them! Just wait for chapter six hehehehe! Hum. As you may have noticed there is another important paring in this story I hope you will be excited to see what happens to them as well. And thank you all so much for your wonderful reviews! They really please and motivate me! So, see you in two weeks (or sooner I hope!) for the next chapter!