His fault.
Trying to contain his panic at the portent of death before him, Derek turned from the easel and gathered up Stiles' clothes before he locked up the apartment and drove out of town with his window down, following the faint scent of his mate. He came to the end of a street that led into the forest and knew this was where his mate had disappeared to. Climbing out, he stripped and put everything in the locking tool box in the back of his truck that he kept there for just such a purpose. It had a combination lock that allowed him to run around without needing to worry about his stuff or keys.
Shifting, he trotted into the forest, using every sense he had. Immediately, he picked up Stiles' scent and began running. Nothing had ever propelled him to run faster. As much as he was animal now, he was still his human half enough to pray to everything that would listen that his little mate wouldn't end his life before he was able to find him.
His fault.
What would he do when he found him? How would he help him? First, he would apologize, obviously. Then he would tell him of his feelings, let him know that he loved him and knew him to be his Fated Mate. They were meant to be together. He would convince his little wolf of this. He had to, there was no other option. He would heal him of any injuries he might have and then he would love him, promise to make up for what he'd done every day for the rest of eternity if Stiles would only accept him as his mate.
His fault.
Continuing to run, he realized how different the two of them were. Derek ran from his obligation, determined to live his life his own way. Stiles, on the other hand, honored the agreement, to the point of accepting unspeakable abuse because Derek hadn't come back. Stiles remained, determined to see the claim through, no matter how many years of loneliness and isolation it took. He kept his heart and body pure despite what he experienced on a daily basis. Derek was a coward. He could have returned years ago to reject the contract. He could have met with Stiles to apologize and perhaps the young wolf would have smiled at him, and he would have smelled that amazing sunshine and fresh air scent. Maybe he would have realized then that Stiles was meant to be his. They could have been happy years ago despite what their parents wanted. He could have taken Stiles away with him, to hell with what their parents stood to gain. What did money and position mean when Stiles wouldn't have been beaten up physically and mentally for years on end? There was no price he wouldn't pay to prevent what happened.
His fault. His fault. This was all his fault.
Little wolf, he pleaded, please be okay. Please don't die. I need you.
We will find him, his wolf seemed sure. We will find him and make him ours. If people words don't work, then we use wolf ways. He had no problem using the young wolf's body against him, his wolf showed him in his mind. He would take him away and keep his mate overwhelmed with being loved – in every way – and too spoiled to care about anything else until he gave in and fell in love with Derek.
His fault.
He knew it would take time for trust to develop. Stiles spent the last five years being shit on, betrayed and abandoned. He would need to see and believe that Derek would never do that. He would always love Stiles. As human marriage vows said, "until death do us part". Except he would take the vows further and love Stiles forever, past life and death, past whatever came after. He would love him every day of forever. And then some.
Please be okay, little mate.
The scent circled around a few times and Derek was more convinced than ever that his little wolf was injured. Some bastards had beat on him again. He would heal his mate as many times as it took. Then he would go back to Battle Born Clan and raze the entire town until nothing remained but tears and ashes. Every person who hurt his mate would pay. He would call out every single alpha in a Death Match until they were all dead. Then the rest would know what it felt like to be abandoned and alone.
His fault.
His mate was depressed, alone, injured, touch starved, and traumatized. The words of John Stilinski echoed through his mind when Derek asked if he should speak to the omega. "It's not worth it," he'd said. Now, Derek knew he meant he's not worth it. His mate's family cast him out because of something that wasn't his fault. It was Derek's and that guilt was something he would have to live with for the rest of his selfish life.
His fault.
Whining when he came across a spot where his mate had gotten sick, his worry ratcheted up. Stiles was pushing himself too hard for his injuries. Derek began running faster, leaping and weaving through the trees and brush faster and faster, desperate to find him.
Finally, finally, after more than an hour of searching, he heard him. Whimpers and rasping breath were coming from a group of bushes. He wanted to bark a greeting, but didn't want to frighten him, so he shifted as he came closer.
"Stiles? Stiles, mate, it's me, Derek," he said softly, hoping not to harm the injured wolf further.
He walked behind the bushes and saw his mate laying down, his head flopped over, his sides heaving with the effort it was taking to breathe.
Those honey eyes he loved rolled toward him and Derek gasped at the depth of pain both physical and emotional that shone from their depths.
His fault.
"Oh god, Stiles, baby, I need you to drink from me, okay? I can heal you," Derek pleaded and urged his fangs down to bite deeply into his wrist before holding it over the muzzle of his mate. He held Stiles' muzzle still with one hand and fed him with the other.
Stiles kept his mouth closed tight, jerked his head away with a weak growl and closed his eyes.
His fault.
"No, Stiles, listen to me. It was me, it was my fault. I was so selfish and I abandoned you and I'm so sorry, mate. I just found out today that I was the one promised to you. Back then I didn't want to live a life I didn't choose for myself. I didn't even think of how you would be treated," he desperately tried to explain, tears burning his eyes once more, as the words fell faster from his lips. "I had no idea your parents and the entire town would turn on you. I am so sorry. I realized the truth last night, but you were already asleep. I realized you are my Fated Mate and I love you. I left early this morning to go get things ready for us, to prepare for you to move to New York with me. I had obligations I needed to take care of, but it's all done now and I'm not going to leave you again. I need you to live for me, let me love you and make this up to you for the rest of our lives. Please shift for me, mate," he pleaded.
Instead of shifting, Stiles dug his claws into the ground and pulled his body further away from him, whining and whimpering with the effort. The struggle he was having to gasp air in left Derek in chills with worry.
His fault.
Derek didn't ever want to force Stiles to do anything against his will, but in this instance, he would. He would make sure Stiles lived. He knelt down in front of Stiles and waited for him to open his eyes. Putting all of his alpha instincts to work, he felt his irises turn red and he growled at his mate. "Shift," he demanded.
With a yip of pain that turned into whimpers and a hoarse cry, Stiles shifted and Derek gasped. His mate's poor body was right back to the point it was at the night before, and then some. From the looks of it, his collarbone and several ribs were broken aside from the numerous bruises. Judging by his stuttered breathing, he was worried that a rib might be rubbing on his lung with the risk of piercing it. His chest, stomach and legs were covered in round burns that were blistered and made Derek feel sick to his stomach. Dear gods, what the hell had happened to his precious mate? That information could be found out later, he told himself sternly. Stiles needed to be healed immediately.
His fault.
Sitting next to him, he pulled Stiles' head into his lap, stroking his face over and over, trying to infuse him with his love.
"I love you, Stiles Stilinski and I want you to live. If you honestly don't want me, if you can't forgive me, I will understand. But please, give me the chance to make things right. Please let me love you. I know I can make you love me," he swore, speaking his heart to his mate, praying to the gods that Stiles would really hear him.
"You," Stiles swallowed hard. "You can't love me," he rasped with obvious difficulty. He couldn't believe Derek had found him, he'd been sure he would die out here alone. He'd been okay with it. It was quiet here, just the sounds of nature surrounding him, soothing him. No more name calling, no abuse, no insults. Just peace. But here he was, with his head in the alpha's lap, listening to this insane talk about love and forgiveness. Derek had been the alpha he'd been promised to? Was this some kind of sick irony? Could it also be his dream come true? Could he take this risk with the tatters of his heart and soul?
His fault.
A tear escaped and dripped down Derek's face onto Stiles cheek. Derek gently wiped it away, trying to put every ounce of emotion he had into his words, praying they were the right ones. "I can love you, little mate, and I do. I always will. Now, please, let me heal you and then we can talk. Whatever you decide, I will respect. I may try to talk you out of it, but I will respect it. Please, my own, please let me heal you," Derek didn't mind begging if it worked.
Stiles stared into the alpha's eyes. He seemed sincere. Alphas didn't beg. Hell, they didn't tend to say please if they didn't want to. Derek was sorry, the gleam of earnestness in his eyes told him the truth. That helped him make his decision.
"Okay," he whispered weakly.
Before he could take another pain-filled breath, Derek had torn into his wrist again and held it to Stiles' mouth. Moaning at the taste he remembered as ambrosia, he swallowed before a wracking cough shook him painfully. Derek quickly gathered him in his arms, cradling him like a baby so he was sitting up more. This time he was able to suckle more easily, the blood going down smoothly. Just like the night before, he could feel the blood strengthening him, easing the pain and healing the injuries. He gave a muffled cry as he felt his rib move back into place. This all hurt so much worse than the last time. There was no doubt his lung had been pierced, if not punctured. Derek definitely saved his life.
He started to pull away, but Derek shook his head and murmured. "A bit more, little one."
So he continued to drink, the extra intake speeding up the healing process until he felt better than he did that morning. That morning seemed so far away now, so much had changed.
Finally, Derek let his hand drift away and pulled Stiles up a little more until their eyes could meet.
"How do you feel?" he asked softly, scanning his body for any remaining injury. Happily his body was quickly returning to it's perfectly porcelain color, the hideous contusions and burns quickly healing. Derek knew he would never forget the sight of his bruised and broken body. He didn't deserve to forget.
His. Fault.
"Better. I'm pretty sure you saved my life," Stiles said with a sigh. "I'm pretty sure that rib was pressing on my lung. It hurt to breathe. Thanks, healer wolf," he said with a weak smile.
"I'm glad you're no longer hurting. Physically, anyway. Stiles, I am so sorry. I was a selfish bastard. I should have come and at least met you, whether I wanted to be in an arranged mating or not. I shouldn't have just abandoned you and went about my life," Derek said, his voice full of sorrow.
"You couldn't have known how my mom blew the whole thing out of proportion by planning the ceremony without ever hearing from you. There was no way either of us could have guessed how the town would react. I don't blame you," Stiles whispered honestly. His heart just wanted to know the abuse was over. That his life could begin again, but with protection and love this time instead of insults and pain.
"You should," Derek said bitterly. "You have every right to. I think if I had come back and met you, I wouldn't have left unless you were by my side."
The look of hope and vulnerability in Stiles' golden gaze floored him. "Really?"
Derek nodded. "Yes. I told you, I truly believe you are my Fated Mate. I know people don't really believe in them anymore. Hell, if you had asked me day before yesterday, I would have told you I didn't believe in it. Then I caught your scent at the bar and looked into your gorgeous eyes and I knew. You were mine. You are mine. You are my mate. My perfect, precious treasure," he said, voice thick with emotion.
Tears began spilling down Stiles' cheeks. "You mean that, don't you?" The devotion shining in Derek's green gaze couldn't be faked.
Derek smiled, tracing his fingers down Stiles' silky soft cheek. "I do. More than anything I have ever said in my life. You are my life now. I love you."
Stiles looked at him in wonder. There was no lie in his eyes, no deception in his scent. Derek really meant what he was saying. "I've never been loved before. My parents always wanted me to be someone I wasn't good enough to be. But you… you love me." A smile formed and began to grow.
Framing his face with his hands, Derek returned his smile, staring at his mate in awe. "Such a beautiful mate," he murmured. Leaning in, he brushed their lips together. Feeling Stiles respond, he deepened the kiss until they were grasping at each other, their hands roaming over naked bodies, tongues massaging, and body's itching to get as close as possible.
"I need you, little wolf, but I won't take you here. You deserve better than this. You also need some food in you so you don't get weak. The blood will keep you strong, but you still need some sustenance. Would you like to hunt?" Derek asked, trying to calm his body down. What he really wanted to do was flip his mate over and mount him, marking him inside and then biting his neck so wherever Stiles went, he would carry Derek's scent and mark. But his little mate deserved a bed and soft sheets against his skin. Not the forest floor where he had come way too close to death.
Stiles' adorable nose scrunched up in distaste. "I haven't let my wolf out very much over the last few years. The idea of hunting and eating doesn't sound very appetizing. Maybe a rare steak, though," he offered, his eyebrows high as he looked to see how his idea would be handled.
Derek grinned. "Steak sounds amazing. Not as good as you," he said, chuckling and nipping at Stiles' jawline. "But a steak would be great. Let's get you back and into some clothes, I grabbed yours in case I found you. Do you want to walk or shift and run?" He couldn't help hoping his mate would want to run together. It would be a bonding experience for their wolves.
Stiles chuckled at the tickling sensation of Derek's scruff as he went back to nuzzling him. "Shifting sounds good, but, um, can I make a request? If it's not too much trouble, that is." He was hesitant to ruin the good thing they had going by being a pain in the ass, but he couldn't go back there yet.
His fault. Derek didn't know if that phrase would ever leave his heart and mind, but he didn't deserve for it to leave either.
The alpha leaned back and gazed into his eyes. "You can ask anything of me and if it is in my power, I will give it to you. A rare steak, a new car, anything you want, it is yours." He let Stiles see his sincerity and couldn't wait to hear the first thing he would be able to give to his mate.
"I can't… I can't go back there yet. To town. I don't want to hear all the names and risk getting beat up if you have to leave the room. I wish I could never go back, but that's just the way it is," Stiles said, his voice so quiet Derek had to lean in to hear him.
"That's fine. We'll start heading back to New York right now. We can stop in the next town over and eat there," Derek said easily, fine with not going back right now. He could have Stiles' things packed up and sent to them. Movers hired from out of town, of course. He wouldn't trust anyone from Beacon Hills ever again. And he would deal with them, in his time and in his way. For now, it was time to concentrate on his mate and his needs. Stiles came first. Vengeance would come later, but it would definitely come.
"What? New York? I can't move. Can I?" Stiles looked adorably confused, his eyes wide.
"Of course you can. And you will. We'll have your stuff sent to my house and we'll never set foot in that shithole ever again. Does that sound good to you?" Derek needed to make sure he was certain and then they wouldn't bother to look back.
His mate nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, it sounds like a dream come true. Really? We can leave? And never come back, like ever?" Stiles' eyes were so wide now, it was almost comical. But it made Derek sad, realizing how much hurt he'd experienced in that town. How trapped he felt.
"Never. Now, let's shift and see how good you are at following my scent back to the truck. I'll give you a ten second head start. Ready?" Derek watched his mate giggle and hop up, centering himself enough to shift.
The beautiful wolf shifted from foot to foot in front of him, his tail wagging madly. Derek had never seen a more gorgeous wolf. He was much smaller than Derek's wolf, ash colored where Derek was pure black, with gorgeous red highlights that were now glowing in the late afternoon sun that shone through the trees.
"Set. Go!" He laughed as Stiles' claws dug into the earth and propelled himself forward. He'd lied about the ten second lead. He couldn't stay away from him that long. But he did take his time and run slower than usual before giving a mischievous growl behind his mate, causing him to bark like he was laughing. Then his mate bent his head down and put on the speed, surprising Derek and making him actually have to work to catch up to him.
Finally, before they reached the edge of the forest, Derek started teasing his mate, bounding in and nipping at his sides, loving it when Stiles turned back and did the same, growling playfully. Watching his little wolf zip in and around trees so he could leap at Derek made his heart soar.
There was a long road ahead of them to heal Stiles' heart and mind, but they would do it together, and they would start now.