Hi there, this is kind of like a late birthday present(i turned 18 on monday) to myself and a late christmas present to you guys. Although.. can this subject matter be considered a present? Anywho, i have a fractured wrist so this took me forever to write. I hope you are intrigued by it.

There is POV change from Derek to Stiles in this chapter, and that's probably going to continue happening from now on. Dark theme warning still applies, even more so applies now really.

This is probably going to be longer than i anticipated but i'm okay with that. I hope you all will be too.

I have no beta, so all mistakes are my own.

Derek can feel the growl growing in his chest, his disbelief, anger and disgust warring with each other. Lydia was sobbing quietly into Jackson's chest as he rubbed her back soothingly, but his face was twisted in horror, along with everyone elses.

"No,no. I- He wouldn't have made them..No." Allison whispered to herself, eyes wide and staring at nothing, lost in her thoughts. Erica turned and snarled at her.

"And what other explanation is there, Argent?!" She demands, growl ripping from her. Derek knows he should restrain her, make Erica pull her wolf back, but he'd frozen. He doesn't want to believe it, god he doesn't want to believe that anyone could do that to Stiles, but it makes sense. It makes more sense than he's been able to make of anything for the past month. His wolf is itching under his skin, aching for escape, for retribution to the horror he knows has been inflicted, is still being inflicted, on one of his pack members.

"We don't know anything yet! We need to talk to Stiles." Scott. Goddamn Scott, always choosing Allison over pack, over his best friend. It should have been the right thing to say, if he meant it in a way that supported Stiles, but it didn't. He was just backing his hunter girlfriend up, again. Derek finally let out the growl that had been growing in his chest, forcing the others to shut up in their petty arguments. Lydia, tears still falling down her face, turned her head to the side on Jackson's chest to look at him.

"Petty arguing over this is wasting time. Whatever is happening, whatever has happened, it needs fixing. Stiles is pack. Scott's right, we need to talk to her. But right now, we need to discuss what we're going to do if...if what we think has happened has really happened. Figure out how to get her safe." Derek waited until everyone had calmed down a little before continuing, although the scents of disgust and horror were still flooding the room.

"Whatever is happening, Stiles is hurt and she's pulling away from us. So first thing we need to do is convince her to turn up to a meeting or bonding night, and one of us needs to be watching her at all times."

"School starts on Monday, Jackson give her and i lifts home after swim practice on Tuesdays. We could bring her here." Lydia hiccupped, pulling away from Jackson and brushing the tears away from her face. This was one of of the reasons Derek liked having Lydia as part of the pack, she was always efficient and good in a crisis. No matter what the crisis.

Jackson nodded, pulling back one of Lydia's hands and gripping it between both of his, seeking comfort from pack touch.

"Yeah, we can do that. She'll throw a fit about it, but i'd rather-" He swallowed convulsively, looking down and then up to Lydia. It was one of the ways they'd been teaching him to open up, to tell it to her while the pack was around, the one person he trusted without fail. "I'd rather she be with us to throw a fit, than out there and in danger of those bastards." Derek gave him a one sided smile, a silent well done for being able to show concern for another pack member. It had taken them a long time, but they were getting there with Jackson.

"I can get my dad to look into what they're still doing around, if you want?" Allison questioned quietly, voice barely above a whisper, clinging to Scott's arm.

"Yes. That's fine Allison. Have him ring me so we can meet at some point about this. We'll probably need his help along the line." Allison nodded meekly, shoulders sagging with relief at not being rebuffed or growled at again.

"Other than that, there's nothing else we can do until we speak to Stiles. I'll take the night watch. Erica and Boyd, you two replace me at about 7. Isaac and Danny, relieve them at about midday. Jackson and Scott at about 7 tomorrow evening and then i'll take over at about 1am. Do not let her out of you sight, or at least your sense range. Allison and Lydia, i need you to figure out anything and everything you can about these men and Gerard's plans at the moment. I don't care how you do it, just do it. And report in when you have anything important. Meet me back here after school on Monday. Go home now, get some rest. Do not hesitate to call me if anything happens."

Derek waited for the rest of the pack to leave before heading off himself, taking the few moments it took them to get into their cars and drive away to get himself under control and calm. Once his wolf had settled, he took off running towards the Stilinski household.

Stiles had gone past exhausted. Past any word that could describe a lack of rest, really. Any sleep that she did get was filled with nightmares, panic attack inducing nightmares. When they'd first started, and she'd been screaming in her sleep, her father had come to comfort her. Now though, six months down the line, she knew he just lay in his bed and cried along with her as he listened to her through the walls. For four months, he'd only come to check if she couldn't get her breathing under control by herself.

Her father had also given up on trying to make her eat, talk, concentrate and convincing her to lay off the Adderall.

She was constantly on edge, flinching and jumping at the smallest of unexpected sounds or movements. Always listening for the rumble of an SUV engine or the chuckles of the men that she knew meant that it was time. Time for payment, time to keep them safe.

Stiles knew she was weak, human, a liability. Her only skill was research, but now that Allison and Lydia were part of the pack, they hardly need her. There was no other way to help, not other way to protect them, and it wasn't even something she'd thought of herself.

When Gerard had taken her from the bleachers at the championship game, she'd been terrified. She'd held out though. Held strong through the pain of him breaking her ribs, bruising her cheekbones, splitting her lip. She'd held strong through the insults, and the promises of better things if she just gave up the information he wanted.

The moment she watched his expression change from slightly amused/mental to hard and cold and fucking cruel, she'd wanted to not hold out anymore. She'd know something bad, something horrific, was coming. Then he'd called those two men through, Densi and Markus, and Stiles had just known. She'd known that this was it, this was a girls worst nightmare. They had that look, one that told her they knew they would enjoy doing whatever Gerard asked them to do. And what he'd asked them to do had been the one thing Stiles hadn't thought she would hold out through.

She did though. She held out, disgusted by the feel of their hands on her, their bodies pressed against hers, the fucking sounds they were making, the way they moved and touched and hurt her just enough to make her scream. It made her stronger, it made her not want to give into the kind of people that could do this to a teenage girl without any fucking remorse. Without an ounce of guilt, just because she choose to support the werewolves, the ones that were meant to be the monsters. But really, who in this situation was the monster?

They stopped eventually, but everything she had been through had been for nothing. They'd found out where the pack was, and even though it turned out in the best way possible in the end, she still felt empty and cold, disgusted and dirty.

Stiles had been sure she'd never let another person near her again, never let someone touch her like that again. But when Densi and Markus approached her, three weeks later, with promises of getting the Argents to sign the treaty if she let them use her, hurt and defile her, make her scream in pain and cry to get away again. She let them.

Stiles let them because she knew it was the only way, the last way, for her to keep the pack safe. And she'd been right, so fucking right, because in the end they'd only won against the Alpha pack because the Argents had been treaty-sworn to give aid in the event of other wolves and supernatural beings and non-Argent related hunters trying to cause war on Hale Pack land.

After that, Stiles isn't really sure what happened. They kept coming to her, claiming that if she let them keep touching her - if she called it anything else, accepted it for what it was, she'd go insane - they'd keep Gerard Argent away from the Hale Pack, help Stiles keep the people she loved safe. It was a lie, she knew it somewhere inside, but she also knew that if she resisted, if she denied them, they could ruin her and the pack's lives quicker than she could warn them it was happening. So she let them. Stiles let them use her and justified it to herself as keeping the pack safe.

Eventually though, that justification wasn't enough. Stiles was terrified. Fucking terrified of everything. For a while she could hide it under the constant scent of terror and fear and panic that came with the threat of the Alpha pack. After that though, she knew they'd notice. She'd have nothing to hide it behind, blame it on. And they had. Or, at least, Derek had.

Which is what led her to now. Half three in the morning, home after being accosted by the two men who'd been touching her in a 24/7 petrol station in the middle of the fucking town, curled up as tight as she could in the corner furthest from her door and her window. Holding herself together, holding back the nightmares, just trying to breathe through the terror and pain and disgust. It wasn't even disgust in them anymore. It was in herself, because she knew that if she told. If she told her dad, or the pack, or the Argents, or chose all three of those options, then she could be safe again. But she couldn't, because what if they didn't believe her, or believed she deserved that pain and terror as much as she'd begun to believe that she deserved it. What if it backfired and she put the pack in danger again.

After Derek had cornered her in the kitchen with his soft questions and his caring attitude and those goddamn pleading eyes, she'd run from them. Kept her distance and kept them safe as well as she could.

She hadn't eaten properly in months, throwing up almost everything she got down. She hadn't slept in longer. Stiles was surviving on willpower, and Adderall. A lot of Adderall. She knew she'd lost too much weight, knew she was covered in bruises and scratches and pain that her father could see even hidden under layers of hooded jackets and baggy jeans. She knew that she couldn't hide from the pack much longer, school started in two days, and if they didnt't corner her there then Stiles knew they'd come searching for her eventually. But for now, all she could do was curl up in a ball in the corner of her room and hold herself together with arms around her knees and an almost empty bottle of Adderall at her feet. Wait for them to find her again, because she'd give in and leave the house eventually. She had to, with school looming, and running out of both her and her fathers medications. Hope and pray that the pack might find her first, even if she also wished they wouldn't find her at all. Even though they'd never saved her when she'd prayed, and screamed, and cried for them before.

But that didn't matter, none of that matters.

Protect the pack, at any cost.