Disclaimer: Teen Wolf characters are not mine.
I ached all over when Derek woke me up only a few short hours later. "We need to go," he said quietly, instead of his usual command to get up. I sat up slowly, feeling the pull of a dozen different muscles. They were sore and sluggish, and I couldn't decide if I wanted to run to loosen them up or simply lay down again.
Something unfurled in the pit of my stomach, and I slipped out of the sweatshirt Derek had given me. For a second, I shivered over the sudden loss of warmth. Derek gazed at me, one eyebrow raised, but then I felt it. Heat rushed through me, much like it had earlier today. The extreme, radiating warmth stopped the pathetic shivers, and I was good to go.
We walked down the steps, and I let the cool air wash over me. It was countering the inner heat nicely, and it made me feel way more alert.
Upon reaching the car, I stopped, hand resting on the door handle. Run, run, run, my instincts nagged at me. Derek climbed in, starting the engine. The blood rushed to my head, making me light-headed. If you run, even he can't catch you, whispered the little voice in the back of my head. And I wanted to run. I really did.
The window in front of me rolled down a few inches. "Problem?" Derek asked. His tone said he knew exactly what my problem was, and I struggled to put a leash of the wild, raging urges inside me. Derek could help me tonight. For better or for worse, I trusted him. Mostly. That was a big deal. I could count on one hand the number of people I trusted.
I dropped my hand from the door handle. Derek shifted in his seat, grim faced. If I ran, he would stop me. Try to stop me. I was faster than him, that much I knew. But he had more experience. "Get in the car, AJ," Derek said, sounding a little tense. I ignored him, clenching my hands into fists at my side and closing my eyes. I will run, I promised. Just...not now.
The primal part of me considered it, then slowly backed down. It was hard to explain, but in a few seconds, my body no longer felt like it was in overdrive. I let out a massive breath that I hadn't known I was holding and climbed into the car.
Beside me, Derek said nothing. We drove for I don't know how long. I spent the ride trying to keep myself calm. Derek spent it brooding and silent, which I supposed was just par for the course. Par for the course, that was a golf term. I was getting better at figures of speech, even if I knew nothing about golf.
The buzzing in the back of my skull started again, and I suddenly wanted to do something violent. Preferably now.
I clamped my hands down on my knees, desperate to distract myself. "How do you play golf?" I asked Derek, pouncing on the first thing that came to mind.
He looked over at me, surprised. His mouth opened, maybe to say something sarcastic, but then I think he caught on to how much I was struggling. His mouth clicked shut again, and he accelerated. "Golf is a game where you hit a small ball with a long club. You're basically trying to send the ball way down through a course to a...small hole in the ground."
Hmm. Hitting a ball with a club. That sounded fun. Maybe a source for venting my aggression? Lydia kept telling me I needed to find one. "Keeping things locked inside isn't healthy, AJ," she'd said, patting my arm. I had remained silent, because I'd known that she did it all the time. I could tell, listening to her heartbeat or just smelling the mix of hormones and sweat that came off her. Sometimes during school she would have these tiny panic attacks, where her heart would race, and she would be terrified for a minute or so. Other times, she would freeze up, like she was listening to something far away. Her heart would would pound then, too. But she never told anyone about it, so I didn't put much stock in her advice.
"I could play golf," I said, still hung up on the hitting things repeatedly part. Unaccountable rage bloomed like a firework in my chest, and I gritted my teeth, trying to hold it in.
"Breathe," Derek commanded, his voice cutting through the haze. "Just breathe through it. In through the nose, out through the mouth." I struggled to follow along, but eventually the hot pulse of rage faded, leaving me shaking. I slumped against the seat, glad I hadn't done anything...regrettable. "We're almost there. Keep talking. Why do you want to play golf?"
I didn't want to keep talking. I liked to listen more than I liked to talk. And really, he sounded suspiciously like Ms. Morrell when he said it. But I could feel a complete lack of control swirling just under the under the surface, and I didn't want to lose it again. Not while driving. Not with a full moon. Not again.
I pushed against my temples with the heels of my hands, as if I could just hold the wildness at bay with my bare hands. "I like to… I like to hit things. Sometimes when I'm mad I can't help it." I clenched and unclenched my hands uselessly.
"Yeah. So I've heard. Sheriff Stilinski called to see if you were okay after what happened today at school. Imagine my surprise when I heard you'd gotten into a fight and a Mister Hale had picked you up." I slumped low in my seat, squeezing my eyes shut and wondering if my life was over. But then Derek snorted. "You would hate golf," he said dryly. "There's a lot of walking. And talking." He paused, sending an unreadable look in my direction. "But I could teach you how to fight. How to control it when you get mad." I sat up, suddenly interested, but didn't have a chance to answer.
Derek stopped the car in front of yet another warehouse. "Let's go." I unbuckled, glad we were dropping the whole fight topic. Then Derek had to go and ruin it. "And AJ? We will talk about the fight later." I dropped my forehead onto the dash with a loud thunk. Awesome.
Another heat wave swept through me, leaving me restless and miserable. I clambered out of the car, quickly catching up to Derek. He strode into the murky warehouse, going straight to a gray box on the wall. Pulling open a panel, he pushed something upward with a click of metal, and dim bulbs lit up randomly throughout the warehouse.
I hissed, shielding my eyes against the sudden onslaught. When I lowered the hand that was over my eyes, I saw a broken down, old bus. Some of the windows were missing, some broken, and there were deep gouges marring the exterior. Beyond that was a weird scattering of broken crates, cardboard boxes and weird wooden spindles. They were too orderly to be random, and it took a second before I realized what I was looking at. It was an obstacle course or something. And if the three faded, yet distinct, wolf scents were anything to go by, this was a training ground of some sort. Emphasis on was. Everything in here smelled old. Faded, forgotten.
Yet here we were. My nose twitched, catching the scent of old blood. A shudder ran through me. My vision got very narrow, and I homed in on a rusty bloodstain against the concrete floor. My heart started to pound, and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears. I wanted blood. I wanted to hunt, to kill. And I wanted it now.
Derek reappeared in front of me, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me along. I stumbled along side him, trying to get the bloodlust under control. It didn't work, and I was so hot that it was hard to concentrate. Derek pushed me downwards, and my legs gave out as I collapsed, pressing my back against a metal pillar. It was cool through my thin t-shirt, and I sagged against it, not liking how my body was on the fritz.
The scent of metal grew stronger around me, and something heavy wrapped around my wrist. My eyes snapped open, and I took in the leather cuff connected to large metal links of a chain. Derek. Derek was chaining me up.
Heat flooded me, and my spine arched as my muscles heaved. I snarled at Derek as he fought for control of my other wrist. No. I didn't want to be chained up. I wanted to run. I wanted to be free. He pinned my arm down, slipping on the second leather cuff with ease. I struggled and yanked, but he'd already finished and stepped back.
Lunging forward, I came to an abrupt stop, coming to the end of my chains. God, I couldn't even stand up all the way. I lunged again, ignoring the pain as my muscles strained savagely against the unyielding restraints. No, no, no. This wasn't happening. I was trapped.
Derek stood only a few feet out of reach, just watching. Rage flooded me, an exact repeat of this afternoon, and I lost it. My claws came out, and my vision took on a different, more detailed red glaze. Scents flared up around me, clearer than before, and I threw myself at Derek. I was going to kill him. I knew just how to do it, too. Slash a hamstring to cripple him. Then go for the throat. He'd be dead inside a minute.
A low snarl bubbled out of my throat as I heaved and twisted. But no matter how much I wanted to get free, I couldn't. That didn't stop me from trying.
Time passed. I couldn't keep track of the minutes with the bloodlust peaking and receding like crazy. Eventually, I calmed, lying in a heap on the cool floor, panting, and hurting. The remains of my protein shake was splattered in a puddle of vomit beside me. I'd hurt something, trying to get free of the chains. The pain helped a little, burning a tiny path through the bloodlust.
Derek was crouched on my level, still just out of reach. His lips were still moving, and the words buzzed in and out of my conscious mind, sometimes getting through, but most often just drowned out by the haze of rage that kept ahold of me. I tried to focus on what he was saying, to actually hear his words, but it was just as futile as my attempts to get loose.
I pushed myself upright, feeling the desire to tear Derek's throat out as his scent roiled over me yet again. A single beam of moonlight speared through a hole in the ceiling, pooling on the floor in clear white light. I could feel its pull, could feel the need to let go of everything. I tilted my head back, remembering the long, fast runs. The ground pounding under my paws, the cool breeze rippling through my fur. I remembered gazing up at the moon and just howling. Howling in quest of a pack to answer my solitary call.
I tuned back into reality, realizing that I was howling now. It wasn't a roar. It was nothing compared to the raw power Derek and Scott put into their calls. But it was mine, and it sang through the air, lonely and haunting.
My howl dwindled away when my breath ran out. I sagged back against the pillar. Even Derek felt the pull of the moon, his eyes flaring blue and fangs coming out. Wolf, my fatigued, out-of-control brain processed. Then the anger crashed back over me again, compelling me to strain and reach for Derek again.
There was a noise from the far side of the warehouse, back from the way we'd come in. Derek pivoted on his heels, searching for the source. But I already knew who it was. I knew that scent. Knew it and liked it. Lightly floral, hint of sweat. It was Lydia. Fresh meat. I pulled against the restraints with renewed strength. Derek was growling out garbled words, but I didn't hear him.
Because another scent was spreading through the air with insidious presence. Death. Decay. Disease.
Ghoul.
The ceiling behind me shattered, sending thin pieces of metal sheeting crashing to the ground. I twisted myself like a pretzel, trying to get a good enough angle around the backside of the pillar to see what was happening. Amongst the fallen debris were four crouched forms.
Pain in my shoulders and neck forced me to turn back around, and I was just in time to watch Derek appear, shoving a dazed Lydia towards the bus. She drifted over to it mechanically and climbed inside. Derek yanked the creaky door shut then hurtled over to me.
His claws made quick work of one of the leather restraints, and as soon as my hand was free I swiped at him. He leaned back easily, cuffing the side of my head hard enough to daze me. Then he took the opportunity to free my other wrist. I shook my head clear, sliding to my feet and pivoting towards the four putrid beings that caused my every instinct to scream danger.
Moonlight shone through the hole in the ceiling, hitting me full in the face. I flicked my eyes off the hunched bodies up to the cold orb in the sky. My mind went blank, drinking in the light. Then my brain condensed every bit of rage and bloodlust left into pure hostility. A vicious snarl ripped free of my chest, and I flung myself at the shuffling shapes of the ghouls.
I darted and feinted, slashing and tearing at anything within reach. The ghouls were fast and strong, but I was filled with incredible bloodlust. It was no contest. I took the first one down, shredding everything in its abdominal cavity in seconds. It hammered at me in the process, but I was unstoppable. It went still underneath me.
Two hands clamped down on my shoulders, flinging me across the room into the side of the bus. I hit hard and fell to the floor. A second later, another large form came flying through the air, hitting the yellow siding just like I had and crashing to the floor. Derek.
There was a noise above me, and I flipped onto my back just as a ghoul dropped off the top of the bus and down onto me. It felt like getting slammed with a ton of bricks. The breath burst out of me, but I flung an arm up just in time for the ghoul's yellow teeth to grind and tear into my forearm instead of my throat. Hot burning pain coalesced on my brain, enraging me, and I used my free hand to slash at the ghoul's stomach before flinging it off. The ghoul stumbled back a few steps, just in time for Derek to snap its neck.
It went down in a heavy heap, and I prepared to launch myself at Derek, still wanting the pleasure of ripping his throat out. My muscles tensed, and I'd almost committed to the move when a piercing scream rented the air.
Lydia.
For a long second, the eerie wail was the only thing that ricocheted around in my brain. Then I was back. Not the bloodlust driven me, not the out-of-control predator—me. Clear-headed me. I whirled, recognizing Derek as an ally and went for Lydia. Kicking open the bus door, I bounded up the stairs and into the narrow aisle between seats.
A ghoul finished dropping through one of the ceiling emergency hatches in the roof of the bus, and it advanced on Lydia, wide back to me. I could see half-healed jagged claw marks, stark against the sickly gray skin. This must have been the one Derek had fought in the cemetery. It was bigger than the others, and the scent of decay was nauseatingly stronger too.
I snarled, sacrificing my element of surprise for the chance that the ghoul would leave Lydia alone and come for me.
It worked.
The ghoul spun, jumping from seat to seat like a fricking grasshopper. It smashed into me, driving me to the ground and slamming a heavy knee into my ribs. It hurt. It hurt a lot, but that was fine. I would heal, Lydia would not have.
I heaved and bucked, able to get out from under him, but unable to really go anywhere. His fist came out of nowhere, exploding across my jaw and I fell backwards onto a seat. I pulled my legs up, despite the sharp pain in my side, and slammed them back out, catching the ghoul in the stomach. It was the ghoul's turn to fall into a seat, and I used the time to scrambled out of my seat and back into the aisle. I didn't attack again. Instead, I just put myself between Lydia and the ghoul.
In history, we'd read about the American Revolution. Mister Yukimura had pointed out that history was full of smaller forces repelling larger, better trained armies because they were relentless and unyielding—generally creating enough ruckus that the larger forces were forced to give up and retreat.
I was tired, and a lot of me hurt. I was running low on energy, and I honestly didn't know if I could beat this ghoul. But I did know that I could be a "pain in the ass," as Coach sometimes called people, until the ghoul reconsidered. Or, it would just, you know, kill me. There was always that.
Still, it was worth a try.
The ghoul got up, steadying itself, and we looked at each other for a moment. It was sizing me up, maybe, deciding if Lydia was worth the fight. It feinted towards me, probably wanting to measure my reaction. I bared my teeth in challenge.
Outside the bus, there was a victorious roar. Derek, killing the fourth ghoul, was my guess. The ghoul facing me hunched a little, glancing out the window quickly. I took a step forward, forcing its attention back to me. It took a step back, which I thought was a good sign.
Footsteps pounded up the three steps, and Derek appeared at the front of the bus, sandwiching the ghoul between us. It turned sideways, looking back and forth between us for the barest of moments. Then it planted a foot on a seat and exploded upwards out the other emergency hatch. It was gone by the time Derek ran forward and looked up.
I sagged sideways, the bite on my arm burning white hot.
"Lydia?" Derek growled. I felt really dizzy, so I felt it best to just sink into one of the seats and wave him back to where Lydia was huddled. She was fine. I knew that without having to look, but I was too tired to go to her. Derek brushed past me.
"How did I get here?" Lydia whimpered slightly. "What happened?"
"You tell us," Derek said. Then he let out a grunt, and there was a heavy thump. Oh great.
"Derek? Derek, wake up!" Lydia called, just short of shrieking. I heaved myself upward, staggering down the aisle towards them. Lydia was shaking Derek, and Derek was lying on the floor. His shirt was bloody in a couple different places, and I wondered if he'd been bitten. A cursory glance revealed that he had. Several times. I kicked open the back door of the bus and jumped down to the ground, dragging Derek out behind me. He was heavy, and I was on the verge of falling over, but somehow I got him to the warehouse door. Lydia opened it, seeing Derek's SUV parked next to her Prius.
I dragged Derek over to the passenger side of his car and heaved him up into the seat. Then I crawled into the backseat. Lydia climbed into the driver seat. "Keys?" she demanded, twisting in her seat. "Where are the keys?"
"Left pocket," I murmured, closing my eyes. I'd seen Derek stuff the keys into his front pocket as we'd walked in, which meant they should still be there. A few seconds later, the car started, and we were moving.
Next thing I knew, Lydia was telling me to open my eyes. I didn't feel inclined to, so I ignored her. She slapped me, which made my eyes open up right quick. "Really?" I groused, bringing a hand to my cheek. I bit off the rest of my complaint when I took in her flushed, terrified look.
I slid out, knees buckling a little when my feet hit the ground. I steadied myself, throwing open the door. Derek was awake now, but he was moving as slowly as me. I got him out and upright, turning forward to see our destination.
We were back at the animal clinic. Derek leaned heavily against me, arm slung over my shoulder, and I looked up at him. "No," I begged.
"Yes," Derek gritted out, once and only once.
So, of course, we went inside.
It sucked. Deaton was very liberal with his Narcissus powder. Derek had been bitten three different times, so Deaton did him first. Just hearing Derek's pain was almost enough to make me run, but I hung around. The bite on my arm was hot and red veiny things were spreading outwards from it. Deaton had to clean it first like last time. Despite being shaky and pale, Derek came up beside me, pinning my other hand down to the table. He didn't take away the pain this time when Deaton sprinkled the powder into the bite, but I barely fought anyway. I was too tired, and I was in constant pain right now. Plus, I kept telling myself that Derek had made it through the same thing three times, and he hadn't even tried to kill Deaton, so I figured I'd just shoulder the pain and try to be like him.
Finally, it was done, and Deaton backed away, giving me a wide berth. I slid off the table with shaky legs to match Derek's, and we left. I vowed I'd never come back to this place. Lydia was gone when we got out to the car. "Went home," was a note scrawled on the bottom of the driver side window in lipstick.
I climbed in, feeling like I wanted to sleep forever. But it was not to be.
"—ake up. AJ. Seriously? Get out of the car." What? Derek was saying something, and he didn't sound happy, but I was too comfortable to care. With monumental effort, I cracked one eye open. We were at Derek's loft, and he had opened my car door, letting cold air in. My eye slid shut again as sleep tugged heavily at my brain. Derek gritted his teeth, his voice sounding far away. "I'm not carrying you. Get up, or you're staying in the car."
I didn't move, and pretty soon, I was completely out of it.
The next time I woke up, I was shivering like crazy. It was dark out, and for a second, I didn't know where I was. Slumped under Derek's jacket, I realized I was in the car. Oh. True to his word, Derek had left me. Scowling against the cold, I pulled the jacket on and clambered out of the car. Up the steps I went, and soon enough, I was pulling open the metal door. I shut it and dashed—in record time—to my room. After draping the jacket over the chairback, I dove under the covers and promptly fell asleep again as they warmed with my body heat.