Papa Stilinski feels/Bad Ass Papa Stilinski is about to come your way. Also, made up Fem!Stiles first name and a nickname from her mother that will be explained later.
Thank you for all the reviews, follows and favourites. They keep me writing!
Ubeta'd and i am exceptionally tired, there may be more mistakes than usual.
"Drive." Derek growled. He'd lowered Stiles into the backseat, head on Lydia's lap, and then climbed into the front beside Jackson. It wasn't long before he was twisted in his seat, watching Stiles become less conscious, he could hear the way her heartbeat was irregular and fast, the way her breathing hitched.
"Derek, she's shaking. I think she's going into shock." Lydia was in tears, fingers carding gently through Stiles brunette curls.
"Do you want me to head to the hospital instead?" Jackson questioned, panic filling his voice as he glanced in the mirror into the backseat. Derek shook his head.
"No, keep going to the house." He twisted back into his seat properly, fishing around in his jacket pocket until he found his phone, dialling a member of his pack quickly.
"Derek, how's Stiles?" Erica demanded down the phone.
"Not good. Has the Sheriff arrived yet?" Derek kept information about Stiles as short as he could. Not yet sure himself how she really was or what was going to happen before he saw more members of his pack again.
"Chris said he's about five minutes away, why?" God, she sounded so worried, he could hear Isaac whimpering somewhere in the background and the sound of those abusive monsters fighting verbally with Chris and Boyd.
"Contact him again and tell him to come to the Hale house instead. Tell him Stiles needs him, and then take the other hunters to the Argent house and keep them there." Derek just ended the call, not waiting for Erica's response, because Stiles' pulse was becoming thready and faster by the second, she was shaking and mumbling incoherently under her breath. Truthfully, Derek was terrified. He didn't know what to do. A thrown glance at Jackson had the boy pushing his foot down on the accelerator even harder, rushing towards the pack house and hopefully a solution to this before Stiles went into full blown shock.
"Keep her warm and loosen any tight clothing." Jackson called to Lydia in the back. "It's what the paramedics had me do for Danny when he was attacked outside of Jungle last year. It's all I can remember for people going into shock." Derek shed his jacket and thrust it at Lydia, who wrapped it lightly around Stiles' shivering body. All of the girls clothes were already torn and loose from weight loss and the attack. By the time Lydia had checked all of her clothing though, they were at the house, and Derek was scooping her up oh so gently again to rush her into the warmth and protection of his home. Stiles flitted between conscious and semi-conscious as Derek carried her inside, fingers tightening and then relaxing around a fistful of his shirt. He lowered her down onto the sofa in the den and fell to his knees beside her, hands hovering, not sure if he should touch her now that he didn't need to carry her.
Lydia and Jackson came into the room moments later, Jackson with a washcloth and some warm water; Lydia with a towel and a blanket which she lay over the back of the chair Stiles was lying on for now. Jackson nudged Derek out of the way lightly and took his place by Stiles' head, whispering to her lightly as he wrung a cloth out in the water.
"Genéve, you're going to be fine, alright? We'll take care of you, pack will take care of you. You just relax, but try and keep with us okay? I'm going to touch you, just to wipe the dirt and blood away, and Lydia will be drying you off, so don't panic. You're fine, Gwyn. It'll be alright." A year ago, Derek would have been shocked at how kind and gentle Jackson was with Stiles, but time with him and getting to really know him meant that Derek knew that Jackson cared about anyone who took the time to try and care about him too. Stiles had done that, in a round about way, when she'd helped Scott try to stop him killing people, and when she'd driven her jeep into him, literally, and saved him by brining him Lydia. After that, Stiles, as some kind of Pack mom in the time after the kidnapping when no one knew anything was wrong with her, she had taken care of Jackson's insecurities along with Lydia. She had made sure he came to pack meetings and bonding nights, talked to Derek or Lydia or Danny if he was having problems. And now, this here, was Jackson beginning to repay her that kindness.
Thankfully, with Stiles in a safe place, and comforted slightly with placating words, her heartbeat began it's return to normality. Her breathing began to even itself out. Jackson waited until she had taken one full, deep breath before swiping the warm cloth over her cheek, cleaning away dirt and blood and god knows what else. It revealed a deep gash in her cheekbone, just over the bruise they could see developing. He kept wiping gently at her face until it was much cleaner, helping to stem the bleeding and show the full extent of any injuries they might have to treat, before he moved down and brushed a newly wrung out towel over her exposed arms and neck. Sweeping a little over collarbone littered with bites that were bleeding. Those made a growl grow in both Jackson and Derek's throats, startling Stiles and making her flinch back away from them. Tears welled up in the corners of her eyes that she didn't even blink away. The stench of fear and panic that had been underlying since they'd found her spiked once again, and it made Derek feel sick that they could cause those emotions in her. He didn't know what to do, and Jackson was looking shell shocked that he'd even let the growl out. Thankfully, Lydia came around to kneel beside Jackson at Stiles' head, carding her fingers through the hair once again.
"It's okay, Stiles. Derek and Jackson are just a little upset. You're pack and you're hurt, it's understandable right? You know none of us would hurt you?" There came a tentative nod from Stiles, who's eyes were now clenched shut as she regulated her breathing once again. Once Lydia deemed her calm enough, she gestured to Jackson to carry on wiping away at Stiles injured skin, and then she turned to Derek.
"There's blood in her hair, I think she's bleeding from her scalp somewhere." She whispered almost inaudibly, trying not to panic Stiles any more, knowing that Derek would hear. Derek nodded and tapped his nose once, pack symbol for 'I can smell it'.
"We'll wait until the Sheriff gets here and see what he and Stiles wants to do. I don't think it's too bad, probably a minor concussion." Jackson whispered back, just loud enough for Lydia to hear, echoing Derek's own thoughts. It seemed they wouldn't have to wait long, however, as the sound of the Sheriff's cruisers sirens echoed throughout the forest towards the house, getting closer and closer. Derek got up off his knee's, rushing out to meet Stile's father before he reached the door.
"What's happened to my daughter, Hale?" The Sheriff demanded, Derek watched warily as the mans hand twitched towards the gun at his belt. His face was a contusion of sleeplessness, concern and anger; but Derek could smell panic and terror coming from him too.
"Before you go in there, I need to tell you some things that none of us like." Derek replied, coming as close to Stiles' father as he dared. The Sheriff nodded once, tersely, at him to continue.
"Stiles has been attacked by two hunters."
"She's wha-"
"It's not the worst of it. I know that you've noticed something… off with Stiles too. Very wrong with her. We almost had it figured out this week. Two remaining hunters from Gerard's collection stayed behind. As far as we can tell they've been-" Derek took a deep breath, swallowing convulsively. He didn't want to say this, accept it, burden another person who cared about Stiles with it. He could see that the Sheriff probably knew what was going on, just needed to hear him say it. "As far as we can tell, these men have been abusing, assaulting, Stiles for almost seven months. Since she was kidnapped." Derek felt sick, tired and sick and lost. The Sheriff was blinking away tears that were gathering heavily in his eyes, his heart was racing.
"Assaulting as in-" There was disgust and horror rolling off the man in front of him. Derek nodded.
"Yes. They've been.. Fuck!" Derek growled. "They've been touching Stiles for 7 months and none of us realised it."
The Sheriff just stood there, eyes glassy, breathing laboured as he absorbed what was said. It took almost two minutes before he looked up at the house and replied to Derek in a whisper.
"And today, what happened today?" He wouldn't look at Derek, keeping his eyes focused on the house like he could see through the walls to his daughter.
"I've had the pack watching her, following her, trying to keep her out of trouble given that she wouldn't come to pack meetings. We lost sense of her, in a pharmacy. Stiles has been taking too much medication, her scent got lost inside all the other chemicals. By the time we got to the store, they'd taken her into the back alleyway behind the shops…"
"Did they-?" A quick glance back at Derek with haunted eyes before they flicked back to the house.
"I think so, she's hurt and she smells like them. We were waiting for you to get here before you decided between you if a hospital was.. Needed." Derek rasped out in reply, trying to keep down the newly developing growl in his diaphragm.
"How badly is she hurt?" He questioned.
"Bleeding from the scalp somewhere. Bruises and lacerations all over he body, face included. At least bruised, if not cracked, ribs. Superficial knife wounds in some places. That's all I saw of upper body injuries. I'm not sure about… anywhere else."
"Where are they now?" The Sheriff had turned his full attention back to Derek now, eyes hard and filled with rage, Derek felt his own similar emotions rise into his expression too.
"Chris and the pack has them at the Argent house, just waiting for you to tell us what you want to do with them." Derek spat out, not even wanting to think about anything but killing those men once he knew Stiles would be okay. The Sheriff nodded, corner of his mouth turning slightly in a cold, empty half smile. Stiles' dad took a step towards the house before pausing, taking a deep breath, and the continuing on his way up the stairs and towards his only daughter. Derek was close behind him the entire way.
Derek watched with something he thought was close to admiration as the man in front of him strode into the room his daughter was resting and put his own feelings aside. He headed straight for the side of Jackson, laying a hand on his shoulder lightly.
"Thank you, for cleaning her up." He whispered, and Jackson nodded before grabbing Lydia's hand and moving them both to stand beside Derek at the end of the sofa.
"Dad?" Stiles rasped, eyes flickering open to look up at the familiar voice.
"Hey sweetheart." He replied, lowering himself to his knee's and taking her clammy hand in his. "How are you feeling?" He asked gently, thumb rubbing slow circles over her palm.
"You shouldn't be here, seeing me like this." God, Derek's heart broke, It fucking broke as he watched Stiles pull her hand away from her fathers and clench her eyes tightly. "Shouldn't see me like this." She whimpered under her breath, and Derek was about to say something hopefully reassuring but the Sheriff beat him to it.
"Hey now." He chastised gently. "Where else would I be, huh? My little girl is hurt, where am I always when you're hurt Gwyn?" A broken sob hitched in Stiles' throat as her father took her hand back at the same time he used her mothers old nickname for her.
"You shouldn't be here, dad. I'm- they touched me and now- now I'm dirty." She hiccupped, clinging to her fathers hand as tight as she could in her weakened state.
"Shh, sweetheart. You're not, you could never be. They are, they're the bad ones here, the ones that did this to you. You did nothing wrong, you hear me? Nothing." He raised his daughters hand, pressing a kiss to the point where their thumbs met and clenched his eyes against the tears just as Stiles was doing. "Now, tell me. How bad does it hurt? You think we need to get you to the hospital?" Derek knew they probably should take her to the hospital. If they wanted to do this legally, have the men put away for a long time, then Stiles would need tests and evaluations and everything else that went along with that. But he wouldn't make her, he wouldn't make her do anything. She could do whatever she liked, just as long as she came through it alive and safe.
"No hospitals, please. Dad, please don't make me go to a hospital." Stiles whimpered, clinging to her dad's hand even tighter.
"Not making you go anywhere. How about we just let Derek, Jackson and Lydia patch you up as well as they can for now until you're feeling a little better and can shower? Sound better?" Stiles sighed and hiccupped again, nodding her consent to this plan. "Okay, Gwyn. I'll leave you with them for now, but I'll be back later. You have one of them call me if you need me, okay sweetheart?" He murmured gently, thumb still on its slow path around her palm.
"Where are you going?" Stiles demanded weakly, panic increasing once again.
"Gotta go find the rest of your pack, deal with the men who did this to you so they never can again. Promise you, Stiles. No one will ever hurt you again." The Sheriff whispered that last part under his breath so low that even Derek almost had trouble hearing him. He pulled his hand out of Stiles' grip.
"Be careful, dad." Stiles choked out, clenching her now empty hand into a fist.
"Always am, pumpkin." Her father replied automatically, a response galvanised from a thousand nights when Stiles had said those words to him before he went off to work. Jackson and Lydia soon filled the space her father had left with soothing words, gentle touches and lukewarm washcloths as Derek followed him to the front door, stopping him just before the threshold.
"She won't go to the hospital. That means no kits. No tests." The Sheriff nodded.
"I know."
"You can't do this legally." Derek knew that the moment the man before him had gone cold when asking about the monsters who did this to his daughter.
"Nope." Came the simple response.
"You let me in on this. You let me hurt them too." Derek demanded. The Sheriff stepped forward, resting one hand on one of Derek's massive shoulders.
"For a long time she was mine, and mine alone. But now she's yours too. I can see it. I wouldn't dream of taking the satisfaction of their pain all for myself." The Sheriff replied, and although his voice was soft, his eyes were cold and hard. Empty of anything but the same innate desire to hurt what had hurt theirs.
"Thank you." Derek replied, and then the Sheriff was peeling out of his drive way towards the Argent household, and Derek went back to trying to figure out how to put back together the most important person he's ever known.