Author's Notes: And now, the long, very long, awaited chapter 6. On with the show. I do not own Teen Wolf, but I sure wish I had my very own Stiles. I don't have a beta, so sorry if there's any mistakes.
Stiles/Derek/Lydia/Erica *Stiles is getting some lovin' in this story* (Romance/Humor/Angst)
Synopsis: When Scott notices Stiles has the smell of death upon him, everyone must pull together...some to save him and others to love him. After Season 2 Finale.
Warning: Language & eventual sexy fun times. Mature.
Multi-POV
Derek POV:
He'll be all right. I'll get there and make everything right. He'll be fine.
After numbly hanging up the phone, Derek had dashed across town, at last reaching Stiles' house. Sweeping his way through the lower level of the house to make his way up the stairs he was immediately hit with the pungent smell of blood, Scott, and desperation…along with traces of an intruder that he could tell no longer lingered within the house.
Upon reaching the top of the stairway he looked at them in front of Stiles' door at the end of the hallway. The first thing he noticed was Stiles' immobility, stillness never akin to the human, and it chilled his heart. Scott held him, arms closed tightly around his friend, hand laid on his pale cheek. The closer Derek came to them, the less he could convince himself that he'd been wrong…that Stiles could be saved. No.
He fell to his knees beside Scott in the encompassing pool of blood that had spilt from Stiles' mouth, not able to look away from…him.
That's when he felt it, when the façade of Alpha, of werewolf, of sourwolf Derek had always held in place, that he let others perceive of him, fractured.
He can't remember back to a time when he cried, let alone the harsh, breathless gasps and shutters that he was producing now. Scott hadn't said anything, and still did not speak as Derek rested his hand on Stiles' unoccupied cheek.
There was no warmth beneath his palm, and Derek was afraid…afraid that if he focused too hard, he would come to the realization that the expected hummingbird paced heartbeat that accompanied Stiles was no longer being produced, and the scent accustomed with the beautiful boy had muted.
He hadn't realized until he felt the pressure tighten slightly that Scott was holding his hand.
Looking up he saw what he felt reflected in Scott's face, the unbearable anguish. Derek's wolf's suffering finally broke through, leading Derek into an absconding pained whimper.
Because since entering the house, there had been nothing but silence, not Derek nor Scott (or Stiles) uttering a single note, other than letting out their grief, was the probable reason as to why the barbaric laugh they then heard appeared to be so shrill and unforgiving.
Unknown POV:
I just couldn't help myself, call it giddiness, but I couldn't stop the laughter from bursting out of me at seeing those things, beasts, in pain.
Of course, that had alerted them of my presence, and sent them chasing after me.
Luck for me, I'm fast. However, I didn't expect them to be so coordinated with each other, and they're starting to pin me in.
Well, I guess, now is as good a time as any to reveal myself to the mongrels.
Won't matter anyway.
There's nothing they can do now.
Derek POV:
Overwhelming rage surged through Derek as he smelled the scent of the intruder that had killed Stiles…and he…he… the monster was cackling maniacally at what he had done.
Derek's wolf had him up and out the window of Stiles' room before he even thought to chase after the man, with Scott following quickly after.
The man they chased moved with a fluidity that was definitely not human, yet he had no discernable scent. He must be masking it somehow. Though he was fast, Derek and Scott was keeping pace.
Since Stiles had gotten sick, the pack had tightened up their routines, training and synching themselves to be a better pack, to be better for Stiles, to be ready for his attacker.
Apparently, it fucking worked. Even being just himself and Scott, they had led their 'prey' right where they wanted him, so they could capture, interrogate, and if Derek had anything to say about it, torture the bastard slowly until he died one hell of an agonizing death.
Closing in, Scott read Derek's cues and tackled the hooded figure from the bottom, just as Derek launched his body at the man's top half. The three rolled several 360s, until their bodies hitting a tree stopped them.
Just to make sure their 'prey' wouldn't go anywhere, Derek, not so discretely bent the man's leg 'til he heard the snapping noise telling him it was broken. Good.
He and Scott got to their feet. Standing over the hooded figure, Derek gave Scott the go ahead to remove the hood cloaking the person's identity.
Scott gasped loudly. "Coach?!"
Derek's anger flared. Scott noticed quickly enough to hold him back from attacking the Coach.
"Hold off." Scott's eyes shone their golden light, trying to reason with his Alpha, whose eyes were ablaze, but calmed slightly in response to Scott's demeanor. Derek took a calming breath and nodded to Scott, so he could release him.
Turning back to the Coach, Derek said, more like growled, the first thing to pop into his mind, "Why?"
The Coach seeming unaffected by his predicament said, "Why? Why not? You people really are so half-witted. So undeserving of one second of mine or Stiles' time." Derek roared so loudly the surrounding leaves on the trees shook.
"Oh my, did I hit a nerve, All Mighty Alpha?" The Coach chuckled to himself. "I did it because I've watched Stiles for a very long time, waiting. Always waiting, but he was finally ready for what I wanted."
Scott made an inhuman noise. "Wanted?"
"Mmm. Mine." The Coach hummed, nodded, and smirked when he saw Derek's eyes flame red yet again.
"But you always treated Stiles like shit. If you wanted him, why go through all this trouble? Why hurt him this way?"
"Derek knows, don't you Derek?" He stared right at Derek while still talking to Scott. "You always hurt the ones you love, but in my case, I needed Stiles to physically hurt. The pain he has withstood has shown how strong he is. How strong he's going to be."
Derek startled, his pulse pounding in his ears. "Going to be?"
The Coach chuckled dementedly, "You idiots really believe I killed him. Jesus. How are you two still alive? OH, that's right, Stiles was there to save your sorry asses. I can't believe how you could never see the potential lying there beneath the skin." He made a hissing noise through his teeth as he said skin.
"He is fey, of which clan or persuasion, I don't even know yet. We'll have to wait to find out when he wakes to his new life."
Stiles' body began to twitch.
"He's his mother's son."
The twitching turned to battering spasms.
"Oh, that's right, I forgot you don't know. His mother didn't die of cancer."
Spasms turning so violent, it pounded his body against the floor, splattering the cooling pool of his blood on the walls.
"She wasn't strong enough to handle the full transition. I thought that since her and Stiles' bloodline is of a nature that is beyond most even within the supernatural community, that she would be able to handle the strongest doses and turn quickly. I guess, I overestimated her strength; while Stiles' has been able to newly handle the venom way past what I ever gave his mother at her end."
Stiles' body stilled, body battered and bruised from the thrashing. Minutely, then the bruises started to fade, the circles under his eyes going away as well. His pallor returning to its normal state, as finally, he gasped a starting breath.
The Coach broke in to a smile of such awe and beautification it rivaled an angel's, as if he were looking into the gates of heaven before turning back, to finalize his tirade. "Yes, Stiles is the one, the strongest, and he will NOT BE YOURS." As he screamed, his body began to transform into thousands of insects, only to sting Derek and Scott as the swarm escaped into the ether of the night sky.
Stiles POV:
He awakes alone, encompassed in a pool of blood, feeling greater than he can ever remember.
"What the HELL?"
Chapter Playlist Music: "Where Do You Go" – Lhasa de Sela, "This Won't End Quietly" – We The Committee, "The Enemy" – Mumford and Sons