Protective Pack and mentions of violence/mild torture but it is well deserved. Innocent Isaac is my favourite thing alongside Caring Jackson. Scott's kind of a bad guy because i have repressed emotions about how badly he treats Stiles and that's pretty much about it.
I hope you enjoy it :)
All mistakes are mine, and it's one in the morning so i'm sure there will be plenty of them.
By the time Derek worked up enough courage again to walk into the room, Jackson and Lydia pretty much had Stiles all cleaned up. Until they managed to get her into a shower and some fresh clothes, this was about as good as it was going to get. Her clothes, ripped, torn and coated in blood and dirt were only just covering her. He could still smell the stench of those men surrounding her, making his wolf whine and growl with the need to hurt those who hurt his pack. Who dared to hurt Stiles. At the moment, Stiles was curled up as much as possible with her injuries, staring blankly at Lydia who was running fingers lightly through Stiles' lank hair and whispering calming things that Stiles didn't seem to be hearing.
Jackson wandered over to the door that Derek was leaning against, the pain of injured pack etched into new worry lines in his forehead, the start of frown lines beside his mouth.
"How does the Sheriff want to handle this?" Jackson asks quietly, hands jammed into his pockets, the same need for revenge and justice that Derek was feeling was rolling off Jackson in waves. Derek levels him with a cool gaze, lets the corners of his mouth tilt into a cruel smirk that Jackson returns, because he knows what that means.
"Ourselves. He's waiting at Argents for us." Derek replies, because he knows he won't be able to keep Jackson out of this. Pretty much all of his pack, maybe not Isaac but that boys seen enough pain and anger in his life, will want in on the ending of Stiles' pain.
"Call Allison and Scott again. I need Allison to come here, Scott to meet us at her dads." Derek nods at Jackson, who pulls out his phone immediately to ring his pack members. Derek was angry with them. They knew that something was going on, that they had to be available at all times until they fixed things with the hunters, and yet up until now they'd been unreachable? Not acceptable. But he'd have to deal with it later. Stiles needed him now. Walking over to Lydia and Stiles, he crouches down so that he can talk to his girls quietly, trying not to startle Stiles too much.
"Hey, Stiles?" His voice garners a reaction out of her, something that Lydia had been trying to achieve for ten minutes now.
"Derek," Stiles whimpers, and the look on her face makes Derek want to scream, and bite things, and hold Stiles until it goes away. All at the same time. Instead, he reaches out and gathers her hand in his, covering it with both his larger ones and brushing soft circles over her knuckles.
"I can't even imagine how you're feeling right now, Stiles." Derek murmurs, taking another glance over her damaged body before coming back to meet her eyes. "But I promise, no one will ever hurt you again, okay? We're going to deal with this, as soon as Allison gets here, alright? And you can shower, sleep, eat, do whatever you want while we're out. And when we come back, it'll be done, and you'll be safe. I promise you, Stiles." He's not quite sure where that speech came from, but there are tears in his eyes and he's lowered his mouth to brush lightly over Stiles' fingers, clenched loosely around his own.
"I'm so sorry." Comes Stiles choked response, and Jackson comes back into the room just in time to hear her say it. Kneeling beside Lydia and wrapping an arm around her, he glances between Derek and this new, broken version of Stiles.
"What are you apologising for? You did nothing wrong, Stiles. They did, not you." Derek asks lightly, trying not to push her. Stiles shakes her head, jerking some tears free from the pools gathering in her eyes.
"I was trying to keep you all safe." Stiles whimpered, clutching tighter at Derek's hand. "I was trying to protect you all from them. God, Derek, they threatened Isaac. I couldn't- Not Isaac. Not any of you. I tried but it wasn't enough and now you're in danger again because of me." Derek clenches his eyes shut against the urge to both cry and flash them Alpha red. Those bastards knew what they were doing when they threatened the most innocent, the most broken, member of their pack to Stiles. She cared for them all like they were her family, and they were in everything that mattered. But Isaac. Isaac was different. He crawled into her bed at night when the nightmares came, he went to her first when he was ready to talk about everything that had been done to him. She helped him with his homework, and pushed him to do as well as he could. Isaac was like her child, someone she cared for, cooked for, held when he cried and took photo's of when he smiled.
Yeah, they damn well knew what they were doing when they threatened the pack. And Derek was going to break them for it.
Lydia was buried in Jackson's chest, hiding her tears and sobs from Stiles, and Jackson was just frozen. He was staring at Derek like maybe he had the answers, a way to fix what had been broken here. He had to look away, because that level of blind trust was not something he was comfortable with yet. Instead, he blinked away his tears again and leant forward, pressing a kiss against her forehead and leaving his lips against her cold skin.
"It's our job to keep you safe, Stiles." He whispered against her skin lightly, making her shudder from the feeling of his breath ghosting over her. "I know you were doing what you thought you could to protect the pack, but they took advantage of your love for this family and exploited it. You did nothing wrong, Stiles. Nothing. And we're safe. Isaac will be here with you soon, so will the others. But for now, we're all safe, you're safe." Stiles is shaking against him, moving her hands from his to clutch at his shirt instead, pulling him close until he stops resisting and instead scoops her up and down into his lap, cradling her until Jackson and Lydia join in for the comfort.
It doesn't take long for Stiles to exhaust herself, and Lydia and Jackson move away from them slightly as her breathing deepens and evens out as she slips into sleep. Derek keeps her cradled against his chest, relishing in the fact that here he knows she's safe. When she's with him, close and warm, she's safe.
"Did Scott and Allison answer?" Derek asks quietly over the top of Stiles' head, cushioned in the crook of his neck. Jackson shakes his head.
"Went straight to voicemail, I left a message." Derek suppresses the urge to growl at the insolence of them.
"Call Isaac, get him to come back here to watch Stiles with Lydia, while I take Stiles upstairs to sleep." Derek orders, leaving Jackson and Lydia in the den whilst he stood and carried Stiles as gently as he could. His room was the very last one in a row of 6, and it's there that he takes her to rest. There is privacy here, a bed for her to sleep on, an en suit so that she doesn't need to leave this sanctuary if she needs to shower or anything. He can get to her from more than one entrance, if he counts his window, should the need arise. As gently as he can, he shifts her weight so that he can manoeuvre the blankets and comforter and slide her underneath them, tucking them up and around her like a child until he's sure she'll be warm and safe enough until he gets back. She's fluttering in-between consciousness and sleep as he pulls away, and she reaches across the space between them to gently grasp his fingers.
"Derek?" She whispers, eyes just fluttering open, fighting the need to go back to sleep.
"Yeah?" He replies quietly, not sure if she actually knows what she's doing right now. It's silent for a while and Derek wonders if she's gone back to sleep, he's about to with draw his fingers and leave for the Argents when she finally replies.
"Be safe." She whispers as her breathing evens out again and he knows she back to sleep. It makes his heart swell a little, knowing that those words were said to her father just half an hour ago. He'd never thought he deserved the amount of care Stiles had for him, had for his pack, but the way he felt about her, about her safety. It was like everything revolved around keeping Stiles with them, and maybe it did, maybe that's what everything is about, because it seems to fall apart when she's not around. And so the fact that she says something that he's only ever heard her say to her father, the one person he's absolutely sure she loves beyond any shadow of doubt, is astounding.
"I will." He replies, almost silently, knowing she won't hear him now that she's sleeping again, and then he leaves the room.
Isaac and Danny were both on their way back to Stiles and Lydia, so it wasn't a surprise when he walked in to the Argent house and found only two other pack members, Stiles father and Chris Argent. Scott and Allison have yet to make an appearance, but he'll have to deal with that later, for now he has to deal with the men who damaged Stiles.
Derek takes the time as he walks towards the people gathered in the kitchen to watch the Sheriff. There's a stiff set to the mans shoulders, a determination in his face that Derek has seen on his own too many times. He knows that it means he's just waiting for this newest hell to be over before he can break down in private. Derek can't even imagine how it must feel, to know that you're only daughter was being abused right under his nose, right in his town, and to not have realised it was happening. He's feeling a similar kind of guilt himself. So stepping into the kitchen with Jackson, he reaches out to the Sheriff and grips his shoulder tightly in a show of emotionally restrained solidarity.
"How is she?" The Sheriff asks once Derek lets go of him, and the rest of them are looking at him.
"Sleeping when we left. Isaac, Danny and Lydia are at the house with her." Not a mention of her actual physical or mental state, because really, Derek's not sure. He'll leave it to Lydia and maybe Allison to help Stiles shower and fix herself up as best they can when she feels like it. They'll report anything bad, he knows that, at least physically. He doesn't really want to imagine the kind of emotional damage these monsters have done to her, though. The Sheriff just nods at his answer, and Chris Argent looks at them both with something akin to sympathy in his face, until one of the men in the basement hollers for some attention. Derek watches as one by one, each of their faces became cold, hard masks. A dangerous smirk works its way into Erica's face and he just knows. He knows that this isn't only about Stiles, but about the damage done to her and Boyd when they were kidnapped, to the pain the entire pack went through trying to live through the Gerard Argent situation. It's retribution and justice and revenge all tied into two human, breakable packages.
"How do you want to tackle this?" Chris asks, looking at Derek as he subconsciously strokes the butt of the gun protruding from his holster. It's something Derek's seen him do before, when he's been itching to cause some damage.
"We take turns. Two at a time. Erica, Jackson. Chris, can you go with Boyd?" Two nods, Derek looks at the Sheriff. "We go together, we end this together." His eyes, reflected in Stiles' fathers, are tinged with read, hard as steel, hot with rage and he gets a cold, calculated smirk in return.
Jackson and Erica, cold and hard, trained to Derek's best ability even in the art of making someone hurt without really damaging them because maybe, one day, it will be necessary. They disappear into the basement, and Derek tries not to eavesdrop on the way Erica holds a knife to one mans eye and growls that he won't heal like she does, that he will just scream and bleed and suffer. He tries not to grin manically when he hears Jackson methodically break a rib, and then a finger, and then a rib again. These aren't noises he's supposed to derive pleasure from, but he does, because he knows that no matter what they do to them now it means that Stiles is safe.
Jackson and Erica emerge fifteen minutes later, speckled with blood and with cold, yet somehow satisfied looks in their eyes. Erica presses a kiss to Boyd's mouth when he and Chris pass them on the way down, and then they're back beside Derek, sticking close to pack, revelling in the justice of this.
Chris and Boyd are forces not to be reckoned with, Derek knows this, but apparently the hunters do not. Derek listens as the taunting begins and knows he'll probably be lucky If there's anything left for him to hurt when he gets down there.
"Fighting with the monsters, Argent?" One spits out loudly, echoing up to them in the kitchen.
"I think we all know who the monsters are here." Chris returns, and then there's a sickening sound of a nose being broken and Derek finds joy in the choked sound of pain that comes after it.
"Defending the werewolves' human slut, huh? She practically begged for it, would do anything to 'protect her pack'." The other growled, and Derek can feel Boyd's rage through the pack bond, he knows when he wraps a hand around the mans throat and lifts him until he is no longer touching the ground, gasping for breath.
"I would rip your throat out here and now." He hears Boyd snarl. "But Stiles' father, and our Alpha, want that satisfaction for themselves." There's no more words exchanged between them after that, as Derek listens to Boyd drop the man, and then snap his wrist with a twist of his hand. They take less time than Erica and Jackson, but they both appear with faces of satisfaction and Chris actually goes about offering the others coffee and tea while Derek and the Sheriff make their way down to finish this.
It doesn't take as long as he expected. The Sheriff was ready to snap the minute they walked into that room and those bastards decided it would be a good idea to talk again. One had chuffed out a pained laugh and looked at his counterpart.
"Look Densi, Genéve owners are here to teach us a lesson." He knows it's the use of Stiles' first name that made the Sheriff shake in rage, makes his push forward and aim a punch straight to the mans gut, then one to his chest. Derek watches as the man crumples in on himself, unable to breathe. It's somewhat amazing, the feeling one can gather from just hurting someone who deserves it. Retribution is a beautiful thing, Derek decides. The other man, Densi, is laughing hysterically when Derek turns his attention to him. There's blood streaming from his nose, he knows that this is the man that Jackson methodically broke into pieces. He ignores the Sheriff as he continues to prevent the other from breathing, from moving, from living. Derek moves towards the other until they're almost nose to nose.
"You're a monster." Derek whispers, cold and calculated, rage simmering underneath this final layer of control. A hysterical laugh bursts out once again from the man, and it shreds it away. Derek can feel his eyes glowing, flashing dangerously, can feel the way his teeth and nails elongate. He's also aware that the Sheriff has just pulled his gun, and is aiming it straight between the eyes of the man who's finally realised that he's not getting out of this alive.
"You're a police officer, a sheriff!" The man exclaims through the blood pouring from his nose into his mouth.
"She's my daughter, you bastard." He doesn't give him time to reply, and just as Derek reaches forward, presses his hand firmly against the already cracked ribs of the man before him and adding pressure until they fragment and pierce his lungs. The gun shot rings out, eerily loud, echoing and bouncing around the room, adding to the sickening sound of the other man slowly drowning in his own blood.
There is silence after that, once the man stops trying to fight past the air and blood bubbling inside of him and just lets it go. Finally dies. The Sheriff takes a moment, holsters his gun and then walks to Derek's side. This time, Derek is the one on the receiving end of a shoulder squeeze.
"Lets go now. It's done. They'll never hurt her again." Derek reaches up to press his hand against the mans who just committed murder with him before they both turn and leave the room.
Chris offers to do cleanup, which really, everyone is grateful for. Derek takes the pack home, dropping the Sheriff off at his own home first because he can see in the minute slumping of the mans shoulders, the way he keeps taking deep, uncertain breaths that he's going to lose his control over everything soon.
"The door is open at the house whenever, come when you're ready." Is all Derek says once the man climbs out of his car, and he's shot a thankful look before he disappears into the house and Derek speeds away before the sound of breaking glass and screaming can reach the somewhat less sensitive ears of his betas.
They're all tired and anxious once they get home, climbing out of the car and into the house. The day is catching up with them, the reality of everything that had happened, and it's only a little after four in the afternoon.
God, it feels like just a moment ago and at the same time a year ago that they found Stiles at the back of that store. Boyd, Erica and Jackson head to the den, slumping into a small pack huddle with Lydia who was napping on the sofa. Derek heads upstairs. He can hear the soft whining of Isaac and Danny trying to comfort him. They're sat against the door to his room, the one Stiles is behind, and Isaac is curled into Danny's side with tears in his eyes. Derek slides down the wall on the other side to him and Isaac switches, burying his head into Derek's chest whilst keeping hold of one of Danny's hands.
"It's alright now, Isaac, it's over." Derek whispers, running his fingers through the boys unruly curls and looking over his shoulder to Danny.
"Any sign of Allison and Scott yet?" Derek asks, but then tilts his head and listens because he can hear a car coming up the drive through the trees. It sounds like Allison's, and he lets out a growl that makes Isaac flinch against him.
"Sorry, Sorry." Derek mutters, leaning down until his cheek is pressed against the top of Isaac's head, and he keeps hold of Isaac until the whimpering has stopped. It's about that time that Scott and Allison -he can hear them laughing and it's making him sick- come up towards the front steps. Derek passes Isaac back to Danny, but they both shake their heads and stand with him, making their way down behind him so that they can confront this issue as a pack.
Scott is just about to reach for the door when Derek pulls it open. The pack is stood behind him, all looking to be in various stages of exhaustion and anger. Derek's eyes are flashing red as he tried to control his rage. Stiles is supposed to be Scott's best friend, ever since they were like four years old. Where was he today when Stiles needed him?
"Where the hell have you been?" Derek demands, arms across his chest, glowering at the pair.
"Dude, calm down." Scott scoffs, pulling Allison into his side. "Allison was upset that Gerard would let something like that happen to Stiles, we went for a picnic to cheer her up. I'm totally not due on Stiles duty for like 3 hours yet or something." Scott says with a smile, and the wolves growl. Lydia looks to be on the verge of both crying and screaming at them.
"Stiles is here. With us." Derek grinds out, jaw locked tight.
"Oh, that's cool then! Can we come in a see her, it's been like forever?" Scott is smiling, fucking smiling. Allison is watching them like she knows this is not the time for that, that they're in trouble.
"I sent out a pack call this morning, Scott. Stiles was assaulted, we found her with them-" Derek bites off into a growl. "We were too late, they'd already hurt her. Maybe if you'd been with us, we could have gotten to her sooner, not lost sight of her." Allison has moved away from Scott, hand over her mouth and blinking away tears, but Derek isn't concerned about her right now. Scott is looking at him, part confused and part indignant.
"I wasn't due to be with you until 7! I wasn't there because you didn't tell me to be." Derek leaps forward, throwing Scott to the floor beneath him, wrapping a hand around his throat and squeezing slightly.
"Danny, Isaac, Jackson, Lydia Chris and I weren't meant to be there at the time either, it was Erica and Boyd's watch, but we were." He growls out, applying more pressure as Scott's eyes got wider. "Stiles is supposed to be your best friend, and maybe if you'd been there today, she wouldn't have been assaulted, she wouldn't have been raped." Derek swallowed over that word, leaving a bad taste in his mouth that makes him want to kill those men all over again. "Maybe her father wouldn't have had to kill a man today. But you weren't, and all of those things happened. So congratulations, Scott. Putting your girlfriend first. Again. Put Stiles in danger. Again." Derek loosens his grip and stands, moving back into the warm semi-circle of gathered pack behind him. Scott stands slowly.
"I didn't- I'm sorry. I just- Allison needed me." Scott whispers, looking between Allison and Derek.
"Stiles needed you more!" Lydia screeched from behind him, she's got tears in her eyes but Jackson is having to restrain her as she tries to make her way to Scott.
"Can I see her?" Scott asks, voice dipping into quiet submission as he blinks away tears. Derek isn't going to fall for this, the submissive act again. It's come back to bite them on the ass too many times before.
"No." He replies coldly, and Scott's eyes shoot up to meet his. Confusion and anger warring in his expression.
"No. You're not welcome here anymore." Derek finishes, and he moves back. The pack moves with him, out of the way, as he slams the door in Scott's outraged face.
He was done with people who hurt Stiles. Whether they were pack or not.