Okay, so everything is kind of happening in this chapter. It was one of those 'i can't stop writing' moments and i probably got a little carried away but oh well.
Warnings : Implied sexual and physical assault/discovery of an assault victim/ bad language/dark themes.
"So I talked to my dad and he said he knew nothing about them being still in town, but he's got people checking into them and into Gerard now. And he'll help with perimeters around Stiles' house and stuff if you need it?" Derek hummed, half listening to Allison on the phone as he watched Stiles through her window from a tree opposite. She was curled up in a ball, had been all night, the only thing to have changed is that she's now moved to her bed. He can hear the horrible irregularity of her heart, the hitches in her breathing at every unexpected sound, the rancid stench of the medication she'd been taking all night. It was driving him crazy, not being able to interfere yet.
"Derek are you even listening?" Allison demanded down the phone.
"I'm watching Stiles, Allison. Listen, can you just tell your dad to meet me at midday at the usual place tomorrow? We can discuss it then."
"Yeah I guess. Is everything okay? Is Sti-" Derek swiped his finger across the screen, ending the call. He didn't want to talk about how Stiles was right now, it was difficult enough to watch, never mind repeat to someone. Even from his spot across the road, he could smell the fear and pain rolling off Stiles. He could smell the guilt and apprehension coming from her father even in his sleep. The now unmistakable scent of lost innocence mixed in with all of that, and now that Derek has a pretty good idea of what's going on, it's hard to believe he ever missed what that meant in the first place.
If what they believed had been happening, has been happening since Stiles was taken the night of the championship game, then it's been more than 6 months. Six whole months of these scents, this pain, surrounding Stiles and they'd never realised. He was an Alpha, her Alpha, and he'd never realised. The guilt and horror that caused him felt like a punch to the gut, the air rushing from his lungs in a harsh exhale. It doesn't even matter that he can't understand why Stiles wouldn't just tell them that this was going on, just that he didn't realise that something inherently wrong was happening.
Stiles was human; fragile, beautiful, breakable. His. It made his blood feel like it was boiling, his wolf stir and growl in rage, his stomach turn with nausea; just to think about what those monsters had done to her. Derek knows he's messed up with Stiles along the way, fighting the way he felt and what it meant, hurting her and pushing her away. He knows that even if he can save Stiles from this situation, he might never be able to be with her the way he wants to be. Yet, he also knows he's never hurt her like this, would never hurt her like this. Not in any way. He wouldn't have her curled up in fear, pain, disgust. Derek wouldn't have disgraced her innocence and destroyed her soul like this, and all he wants to do is go back to a time when all Stiles had to worry about was finals and prom and her dad. Even if that meant he never met her. Even if that meant he'd never be with her. Even if it meant his own demise. He just wants that back for her, but he's a realistic guy, and he knows he can't do that for her now. Not now. Not after all of this.
So he'll rescue her instead, just like she's rescued him an uncountable amount of times. And hope to God that it's enough.
Erica and Boyd arrive to replace him in the morning, and all he says is 'She didn't sleep at all and she's been popping Adderall like it's going out of fashion. Keep a very, very close eye on her.' Before he runs off towards his house for a shower and some food before he has to meet with Chris Argent. Derek still feels sick, a horrid churning in his stomach, over everything they'd figured out and everything he'd seen over the past day. He can feel it, somewhere on the edge of his consciousness, that this is all going to come to a head soon and it wouldn't be pretty. Something, he could just tell, was going to go wrong, and it had him on edge. Overly vigilant on his way home, checking the surrounding pack land and every entrance to the house before he relaxes enough to take a quick shower, change, and reheat a plate of the lasagna Isaac had made two nights ago.
Derek gets to the meeting place a few minutes early, and waits in the coffee shop that had become an unofficial Hale Pack- Argent meeting ground. It was close to the centre of town, plenty of innocent public members around. The least likely place for a scene to start, much less a wolf vs. hunter battle. He's endlessly glad that Stiles and Allison suggested this place instead of anything more formal. He's wrapping his hands around a newly delivered white chocolate mocha - another thing Stiles had introduced him to, that he'd enjoyed, much to his surprise - when Chris walks through the door, throws his order of 'strong black and large' at the waitress and then seats himself in the booth opposite Derek with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Allison informed me of what you have… discovered." His face twists into disgust, and Derek is reminded that this hunter in front of him is a father. Someone who has had to consider that crimes like this could happen to his own daughter, had spent his life protecting her from all different kinds of monsters. To know it's happening to someone else's daughter must feel like torture to Chris.
Then again, it feels like torture to Derek too. He can hardly begin to comprehend how Stiles must be feeling.
"Have you found out anything about the men?" Derek inquires, taking a sip of his sweet caffeine and sighing at the memories of Stiles that taste inspires. Chris nods and sighs.
"Their names are Densi Bowman and Markus Stone, heavy men for my father. Or, at least, they were. I have people monitoring my father; calls, emails, any contact and movement. He has not ordered them to do this, apart from what you believe to have been the first time."
"So the things they are telling Stiles to keep her co-operation are lies?" Derek asks, focusing on Chris' heartbeat. It's vital he knows the man isn't lying here.
"All lies. The pack is safe from hunters as far as we know." Not a single jump in his heartbeat, no increase in sweat or twitching fingers. Argent isn't lying, so he nods and sighs again.
"This needs to be fixed, at any cost. How do you propose we go about it?" Derek is only asking because of the treaty, because he really wants to fucking rip the heads off of those men.
"As a father, I want to say kill them. But they're human. Stiles' own father is the Sheriff, surely we could utilise him here?"
"I'm sure. From the look of things, he knows something is going on but not what. If we can clue him in, aid him in tracking them down and taking them in, Stiles would be safe again."
"I'd be more than willing to help with tracking them and taking them to the police. If we can orgi-" Derek cuts him off with a finger held in the air. His phone is ringing, and a glance at the screen tells him it's Erica.
"What's wrong?" He demands.
"Stiles just left the house, told her dad something about picking up new medication. She's heading towards Main Street and she smells funny. I've text the others to be alert if they're near by, just thought we should update you."
"Okay. Thanks Erica." Derek sighs. "Chris Argent and I are near Main right now, so we'll keep a look out. Can you send another text out and gather some of the others for Stiles watch? I think we should increase people power if she's out of the house."
"Lydia and Jackson are already on their way, something about shopping so they're close by. I'll give Isaac, Danny and Scott another text. We're not far from them, so listen for the howl if we need you, yeah?"
"Yeah, fine. Be careful." Derek ended the call and exhaled loudly.
"What's happened?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his newly delivered coffee.
"Stiles just left the house, heading towards us to pick up medication from Main. Erica said she smelt funny so I increased a watch on her." Chris nodded, swallowing his coffee down quickly and sliding out of his chair.
"Come on then. If we're around, we might as well be of some assistance." Derek agrees, whole-heartedly, which is weird when in the context of Argent related business. Standing and following the hunter from the shop and into the street.
Derek hears the sounds of Stiles old jeep before he sees it, rounding the corner and pulling into a parking space close to a row of shops opposite them. There's a pharmacist, some high end boutique and a diner, more shops curved around alleyways and street corners beside them. He and Chris are sitting in Derek's car, watching as the jeep just idles there for a moment. He can see Erica and Boyd lingering in the tree's on the side of the road, and Jackson and Lydia making their way discreetly into the boutique. He smiles to himself a little. The pack had become more concrete recently, more like a family, and it was obvious now that this family revolved itself around a linchpin personality. Around Stiles.
They watch intently as Stiles climbs from her jeep carefully, wincing in pain as her feet met the ground. Derek is grateful he can't smell blood this time, but the scent of medication is so strong it almost makes him gag.
"What's up?" Chris mutters, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
"She smells like too much ADD medication and pain." Derek replies, eyes trained on Stiles as she makes her way into the pharmacy. Chris just nods once and goes back to watching the shop through his binoculars.
"There's someone in there, I can't see them clearly though. Keep an eye out." Derek knows that Chris isn't just talking to him, the entire pack and their wolf hearing knows what's being said inside the car. Derek watches as Jackson emerges from the shop, leaning somewhat casually against the wall and observing things behind his sunglasses. Erica and Boyd move closer, taking cover beside a shop on the other side of an alleyway. Isaac and Danny come into view on the roof of the pharmacy just as Stiles enters the store.
The scent of medication from Stiles and the store almost overpowers the actual scent of Stiles. He can hardly pick her out of the crowd of people milling around Main Street right now. It sets an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, twisting him into knots on the inside. Not being able to really smell Stiles is wrong. So, so wrong.
"Someone get closer. I can't smell her anymore." Derek says out loud, glancing discreetly at his wolves. He wonders where Scott and Allison are briefly, but now is not the time to worry about that.
"I can hardly smell her around the medication and I'm right on top of the building, Derek. We can't get any closer. Can anyone see her?" Isaac replies, voice barely reaching Derek's ears. There are negative replies on having Stiles in sight.
"Chris, can you see Stiles in the store?" Derek murmurs, trying to focus all of his senses at once to the store.
"I can't see anything, there are shelves blocking most of the store." Derek nods, still concentrating hard on the store. He can't even make out heartbeats inside because of the sheer amount of people around.
"Jackson, get Lydia and make your way to the pharmacy. I want you to go inside and see what's happening. If she sees you, make it seem accidental." Jackson gives him a barely perceivable nod in reply and disappears into the shop, reappearing a moment later with Lydia on his arm. They're good at this, Derek observes, as they stroll absently towards the store. Jackson holds the door open for her with a smirk, which she rolls her eyes at, and then they're both lost inside the stench of medication too.
Derek doesn't know if he's being impatient, but when Lydia pops her head out of the door to the store, both he and Chris breathe out in relief. Until Derek smells the panic radiating off her. He's out of the car and cross the road towards the store, Chris on his heels, before he even acknowledges that Lydia is waving him over madly.
"What is it? What's wrong?!" Derek demands, worry hidden behind a growl. Lydia pushes the door to the store open wider, allowing the two men in, then following after them.
"She isn't in here. Jackson said there is a kind of familiar scent in here, and the pharmacist looks kind of shaken." Lydia reports as they make their way to the counter where Jackson is towering over the old man, glowering.
"Where is she? Where did they take her?" Derek demands, fist colliding with the counter top.
"One man came in through the back of the shop, held something metal to my spine and made me let the girl and another man through the back. I did nothing to her, I swear! I swear!" He cries, holding his hands out defensively before him. The rest of the gathered pack members are behind him, he can feel that.
"Did you see which way they went outside?" Jackson fists his hand into the mans collar, pulling him towards them.
"N-no. I just opened the door, let them out, closed the d-door. There's an alleyway back there th-though." He stutters, and Jackson releases his hold on the man. Derek turns to his pack, scenting the anger and worry on them.
"Isaac, Chris I want you to take the left exit of the alley. Erica and Boyd, the right. Danny, can you take the roof, just incase?" All nod. "Jackson, Lydia. With me, back door, now. Everyone be careful."
They all take off, heading in their designated direction without disagreement. The old man points towards the back exit of the pharmacist and Derek, Jackson and Lydia take off in that direction without haste. The scent of medication is still overpowering any smell of Stiles they might have been able to identify, but entering the alleyway released a flurry of Stiles-related sensory indicators slamming into the wolves. They can hear her whimpers, the connection of fists with bones and the sound of her wrists grinding together like they were being held. They can smell her pain, her disgust, her fear. Blood and sweat, the distinctive sound of zippers and vile chuckles.
"No, no, no. Please, no." Derek can hear her whimpering, whispering, praying to a God he's sure she doesn't even believe in. The unmistakable sound of a hand over her mouth, muffling her scream.
And then it registers that there was a scream to stifle. Followed by a sickening sound of skin hitting skin and the scuffling of someone trying to break free of restraints.
"Payment, slut. You know this is payment. Not that it would matter. You like it. I know you do. How many of those disgusting monsters have you let touch you, whore? How many?" Derek can hear a voice growling at Stiles, saying vile, wrong, disgusting things. Stiles is crying, sobbing, but the sounds of her resisting have dissipated and have been replaced with the scent of resignation, of giving up. It snaps the wolves out of their stupor. All of them had been frozen, listening, smelling, feeling. He could hear Isaac whimpering and the others growling. Derek and Jackson join in the growls.
"Oh, shit." Derek hears one of the men whispers, the sound of clothes being rearranged and zippers fastened. Guns being pulled, and the sound of Stiles falling to the ground. The alleyway was surrounded, there was no escape for these monsters.
"Wait for them to appear." Derek growled quietly, knowing his pack had heard him. A few moments later, a gun appeared from around an alcove in the wall, just big enough to fit three people in tightly. Another gun followed, and then the two hunters appeared. The pack converged on them, surrounding them, and they just sneered.
"We have enough wolf's bane bullets to take out your entire pack, Hale." It's a useless statement though, because suddenly Isaac has one of them against the wall, claws around his throat, growling. Chris has his gun pressed hard into the back of the others skull.
"Try it, Markus." Chris growls coldly, taking off the safety with a definite metallic click.
"Argent." Markus spits out.
"Lower your gun, slowly, and kick it towards Derek. Or I will blow the back of your head off." A flash of fear crosses Markus' face, and it gives Derek a great sense of satisfaction. Markus drops his gun to the ground, kicking it in Derek's direction, before Chris pushes him roughly against the wall beside his accomplice. The other one, Densi, is frozen. Isaac's claws are still dangerously close to breaking into his jugular, and Erica and Boyd are backing them up.
"Oh god. O-oh god." A small whimper comes from the floor of the alcove the men had just appeared from and everyone freezes. They'd been so caught up in halting the hunters that they'd almost forgotten Stiles was still in the alleyway.
"Danny, call the Sheriff and have him come arrest these men. Don't tell him what for yet, just tell him he needs to get them into custody right now. Jackson, Lydia, with me." He takes the two slowly towards where they can hear Stiles' laboured breathing, the erratic beat of her heart, the scent of her pain and blood.
He doesn't want to turn the corner and see this. Fuck, he really doesn't want to. Doesn't want to see the damage they've done to the single most important person they all know. Doesn't want to see the state they've left her in. But he has to, so with his pack behind him and an injured Stiles in front of him, he rounds into the dark section of wall and has to stifle his whimper. His fucking whimper.
Derek can't move. He's frozen at the sight of Stiles. Jeans ripped and pushed down her legs, revealing bruises, scars, lesions and slashes. Blood dripping from her nose and mouth, bruise forming on her cheekbone. More bruises, new bruises, forming on her thin wrists and arms, across what he can see of her stomach. She's curled in on herself, and he can see the faint line of blood seeping through the side of her shirt from her ribs and he's pretty sure that's a superficial knife wound. Probably used to subdue her.
It doesn't register that both he and Jackson are growling lowly until Lydia pushes past them and rushes to Stiles' side. She gets to her knee's beside her, thrusts her hand towards Jackson.
"Jacket." Lydia demands, not even looking away from Stiles as Jackson shucks off his jacket in autopilot and hands it over to Lydia. She uses it to cover Stiles up.
"Stiles, sweetie. I'm going to put my hands under this jacket and help rearrange your clothes, okay?" Stiles doesn't even resist, just whimpers and nods, letting Lydia handle her. Her hands disappear beneath the jacket and fiddle until Derek hears Lydia murmurs that she's done.
"Can you sit up for me, Stiles?" She asks gently, and finally, finally, Derek spurs into action. He throws his keys at Jackson and tells him to bring his car as close as he can to the right exit of the alley. He turns back to Lydia and drops to his knee's beside her.
"Stiles, I'm going to help you sit okay? Is it okay if I touch you?" Derek asks quietly, hands hovering above Stiles' fragile body. It breaks Derek's heart a little bit when she just nods and squeezes her eyes shut. As carefully as they can, he and Lydia slip their hands beneath her and lift slowly until Stiles is part way up and leaning against Lydia's side. Derek gently probes the bones in her back and side as unobtrusively as he can, feeling the small crack in one of her ribs and the bruises that coated almost all of her body.
"We need to get her to the house before she goes into shock." Lydia whispers, carding her fingers gently through Stiles' hair. Derek nods.
"She's not going to be able to walk. I'm going to have to carry her to the car. You keep hold of her hand, or stroke her hair, so she knows you're here. Okay?" Lydia nods back at him.
"Stiles, sweetheart, Derek's going to pick you up and carry you to the car so we can go back to the pack house okay? You're not going to be able to walk around right now, but he'll be gentle and I'll be right here the whole time, okay?" Derek has never seen Lydia be this gentle with anyone since Jackson was cured of the Kanima. He wishes he'd never have to see her like this, gentle, soft and caring. It means something is so horribly wrong. And this is Stiles, and horribly wrong and Stiles shouldn't be in the same sentence. But this time they are, and he couldn't stop it. He couldn't do anything.
Pushing away his guilt for now, he scoops Stiles -lighter than he ever remembers her being- as gently as he can and makes his way to his car now parked where he'd told Jackson to be. At least Stiles was safe now, he thought to himself.
At least, physically.