Okay, so i'm not sure about this chapter but I think I like it? I hope you guys do to. This seems kind of last chapter-y but it certainly isn't. There's definitely a few left after this one.
Thank you for still sticking through this with me!
They're rushing, breaking speed laws in each town they pass through, escorted by the Sheriff in his cruiser, but Derek has this sinking feeling like it won't be enough. That Stiles will figure out that Verne is just delaying until he gets there, and her and Isaac will get back in the car and drive to somewhere unknown. Through the tenuous pack bond he has with Isaac, he can just about feel the uncertainty and fear his most vulnerable pack member is feeling, and it drives a horrid feeling into his chest that he can't do anything about it unless he reaches them in time.
Which he is fairly certain, with the luck he has, won't happen.
They pass the two hour mark and Isaac's distress increases tenfold, Derek can feel it building inside his chest and worming its way into a knot deep in his stomach. He can feel it spreading through each of his beta's, can even feel it infecting what's left of his bond with Scott.
They have at least another forty five minutes of driving if they can keep up this speed, it's not enough. Won't be enough.
They're going to lose Stiles. Maybe Isaac too, and once again it will be his fault.
Derek tries to lose himself in the driving, in keeping his foot down and his hand on the gears. Instead, he's assaulted with all the moments with Stiles where he could have told her how he feels, could have made this different. The image of pressing his lips against hers, of her giving back a little despite how scared she still was. He remembers in vivid detail the Stiles before the attacks, vibrant, brilliant, infuriating and beautiful. The way she would flaunt herself before him, with her mind and her body and her smile.
There is no smile now, and Stiles' mind has been dulled with each pain her body has endured, but she's still beautiful, she's still infuriating, she' still beautiful. She's still his.
He's still hers.
There are so many things he wishes he told her before this all went to hell, and those are the things he will start with when he finds her.
Isaac's fear peaks just as they pass the San Luis Obispo County border, and Derek swerves so hard he almost veers off into a tree. Thankfully, he gets the car under control before it gets too wide, but the fear, the terror still sits heavy in his stomach and like a crushing weight on his chest. He doesn't stop to think, to contemplate what that could mean because it's a sure-fire way to drive himself insane before he reaches Verne's house. Derek just puts his foot down, listens gratefully to the roar of his engine as he swerves around John Stilinski's cruiser and pushes faster than the others can. They're running out of time, he can feel it in the shivery emotions Isaac is, probably unknowingly, pushing along the bond.
Behind him, he can see the Sheriff's car and Danny's behind that, carrying the rest of his pack. He can feel their worry too, adding to his own, pressing a 'hold on, we're coming' along back to Isaac. It's unlikely that he knows what he's feeling though, so Derek keeps his foot down and his mind on Stiles.
They cut the rest of the drive down by fifteen minutes, and get there in what seems to be just in time.
It had started perfectly innocuously, Isaac and Stiles had sat opposite Amelia and Verne at the table, the other members of the Fallen pack around them, and they had eaten well. Stiles hardly managed anything, but out of necessity, more than anything, she choked down a quarter of her pasta and some of the bread roll put in front of her. Isaac didn't eat much more than that, and she could feel his nervousness in the twitching arm he kept pressed against her side as he scooted his chair closer. There had been easy going chats, some exchange of pleasantries. There had been some odd looks, glances exchanged between the other pack that Stiles didn't have the energy or the brain power to decode, and by the time dinner had finished, it had seemed like they had stopped anyway.
Stiles couldn't drag her eyes away from the bump swelling at Amelia's stomach, the way the other woman's hand would drop to it every now and again, the small smile that would grace her face as she stroked over it gently, lovingly. Stiles wished she could have that, a child she could love by a father that was good, and kind. Instead she had the spawn of an evil man growing inside of her, infecting her, reminding her every second of what they did, what she did.
Verne was the opposite of Derek, on the surface, open and calm with a smile that looked almost genuine and almost honest intentions. Underneath though, in the places that Derek keeps his darkest fears and desires, is where Verne also keeps his own, and although he's good at hiding it, Stiles can see that this man is ruthless and cruel in ways she doesn't think she's encountered yet. Each passing second the tension inside of her builds, the fear not only for herself but for Isaac grows exponentially each time he smiles at them, or watches them curiously. The decision to come here is becoming more and more like a terrifying mistake, and she knows something is definitely wrong when, as Isaac and herself are herded back into the sitting room, she can feel herself becoming sluggish and weak. She can see Isaac faltering beside her, shaking his head clear of whatever fog is over taking it.
Amelia helps her collapse into an armchair, and suddenly it feels like she can't move, like each twitch of her arm or raise of her foot feels like wading through syrup.
"Isaac-" She manages to rasp out, turning to look at where he was the last time she saw him, and the cry that escapes her when she finds him again is weak and raspy. Verne's enforcers have him trapped between them, pressed against the wall to her side. One has an arm across his windpipe, the other a firm grasp of his wrists and a strong leg crossing over Isaac's lower extremities. She tries to stand, but stumbles and ends up with Verne catching her and lowering her into the chair again.
"Wh're you do'n?" Stiles manages to slur out, mind clouding over with confusion and whatever drug has been slipped to her and Isaac.
"Helping you make the right decision." Verne grins at her, wide and manic as he leans over her with a hand on each arm of the chair. His vicious smirk swims in and out of her vision.
"You see, Stiles. Our pack was weakened in our fight with the Alphas, and we might have one wolf on the way, but it's not enough. You have presented us with a unique opportunity. A girl to turn with a child already on the way." Distantly, she can hear Isaac whimpering, trying to call out to her. She wonders, somewhere inside her muddled brain, if Isaac will survive this, whichever way it comes. That maybe, Derek will reach them in time to save him even if they can't save her, because Derek had to be on his was by now. He had to be.
"Let 'Sac go.. I- do an'thin" Stiles slurred out, trying to push past the mind fog, think clearly. She means it, if they let Isaac survive this, she'll do whatever they want to her. It's unlikely she would survive the bite, no matter how it's done or who by, there is no chance for her, but for Isaac. Maybe there is for Isaac.
"Nah-ah, can't do that." Verne smirks again. "See, Derek is getting closer and closer, and he is going to have to choose which one to save. Torn between the two of you. And, this way, we have more.. persuasive means of getting you to take the bite willingly." His logic is fucked up. They've already drugged her, nothing she does or says now will be willing. There is no consent inside of what he is doing to her now.
"Let- 'im go. You can-" Stiles swallows harshly, tries to get her thick, dry tongue to move around the words. "Consent.. the bite." Is all she manages before another wave of dizziness and exhaustion vaults over her.
"There would still be the issue of Derek, and you need something to fight for. Surely, knowing that your achieved turning might be the only way Isaac will survive is enough encouragement to gather the will for the bite to take?" Stiles only manages a whimper as she can see the other wolves growling, snapping with extended claws and teeth at Isaac. Sweet, innocent, baby Isaac. Who she dragged into this mess.
Stiles is reminded of the effects that Kanima Jackson's venom had on her and the wolves as she watches Isaac struggle against whatever they gave him and the hold of two strong wolves. A vague memory of Derek fighting against the effects raises faintly in her mind, watching him dig his own claws into his leg to kick-start the healing process.
Isaac is watching her through the space between the two men intently, fear in his eyes but determination evident in the lines of his face. As slowly as she can, Stiles raises her hands into the universal sign for claws, and drops it down to her leg. It takes a while, or it seems like a while, but Isaac nods slowly. He whimpers like it pains him to extend his own claws, but she watches with pride as he battles through it and shifts minutely. A second later, Stiles can see blood staining Isaac's blue shirt, can see the clearing in his eyes as the healing begins fighting the foreign pathogens of drugs in his blood stream. It hurts something inside of her to see him in pain, but this could be the difference between them getting out of this somewhat unscathed.
It doesn't take long for the other wolves to realise what Isaac is doing, and they leap towards him suddenly. Amelia is suddenly dragging Stiles to her feet, one arm around her throat and the other pressing something sharp against her abdomen. Stiles lets out what she thinks is a scream, but Isaac is already fighting back, and he's strong. It's an underestimation on the other packs part that they didn't see how strong Isaac is. Especially when he is fighting for something he cares about. They forget that he was abused, and he has seen violence and death, and he knows how to fight back stronger and better to get himself and the people he loves out of danger.
Stiles must have closed her eyes for a while longer than she thought, because Amelia was edging them closer to the door and Isaac has two wolves down, and is now fighting with Verne and his third. He looks feral, wild and protective. Isaac's eyes are focused on her, the way Amelia has something horribly sharp pressed over where the baby is growing inside of her. His other senses are focused completely on taking down his opponents, fighting perfectly against both the wolves.
The gap for Isaac to run appears moments later. The fighting wolves have switched sides, putting Isaac closer to the door. Amelia would have to let her go to catch Isaac, and he's just about fast enough to run from this and into safer territory.
"Isaac-" Stiles gasps out, throat closed off by Amelia's arm. "Isaac, run!" She can feel hot tears streaming down her face as Isaac considers his options. His eyes are wild, wide and he looks so pained.
"Run!" She shouts again, or, at least she thinks it's a shout. Her mind is so clouded, disorientated and lost. There is pain, sharp, bright pain and she has a moment to think about what that is, blooming red hot across her stomach. There is clarity, and longing, and loss, because she is sure that a pregnant woman just thrust a knife into her womb and Stiles can see now what this child could be, the future it could have. How much she could love it, and how much it isn't it's fault who it's father is.
She had been lost, and now, when there is only the possibility of the death of both her and this unborn child, she is found again.
The pain fades with her consciousness.
Derek is out of his car, shifting quickly. He can smell blood, of the other pack, and of Isaac and Stiles. His beta and his human are coming towards him, Isaac carrying Stiles' limp body in his arms as he runs towards Derek. He can feel his pack lining up behind him, can smell the fear, terror and determination coming from each of them. He hears the snick of the Sheriff releasing his gun, and see's behind Isaac and Stiles, to the three feral wolves behind them.
"Derek!" Isaac cries, half relief, half begging, and he moves forwards, his wolves at his back. Soon enough, Isaac and Stiles are behind the line of able beings, safe and protected, as their pack protect them.
Verne, Amelia and Oliver are shifted, growling, coated in the smell of Isaac and Stiles' blood, tainted with wolfsbane and sedatives. They have paused, crouched and angry, but cowered by the size of Derek's stronger pack.
"I will give you a choice." Derek growls out, flanked by his beta's and his humans. "You either fight us, and you will die." The other wolves lunge forward, but Derek gives out a warning growl that is echoed by his pack, and the other wolves stop again. Derek is surprised at how well they managed to keep this feral, cruel behaviour hidden when they were in Hale territory for the treaty.
"The other choice is that we leave, and we never see you again. We tear up the treaty, and you fend for yourselves. You stay away from my beta's, and my humans."
"We need the strength." Verne growls, eyes flashing between human and Alpha. "We need them."
"They're mine. She, is mine." Derek takes another step forward, again mirrored by his beta's, and finally, finally Verne and his other members cower. Derek knows he is intimidating, the power he gained from killing another Alpha during the final fight is immense, and Verne knows that. Can see that.
"This is over." Derek tells him, shifting back to human as Verne, weak and pitiful, nods once and keeps his gaze to the floor. He knows there will be no apology. Derek breathes deeply, pushing away the excess power, the fear.
Until the Sheriff and Isaac both shout for his attention, and he remembers that Stiles was unconscious and bleeding the last time he looked. He is on his knee's beside her in seconds, hands hovering over her as she is propped up on her father's knee. Isaac is slouched against the cruiser, bleeding but seemingly okay otherwise, healing slowly, but still healing.
"What happened?" He demands, glancing up at Isaac. There is no reply, Isaac has the same distant look in his eyes as he did when Derek told him Erica and Boyd had been taken, before they'd gotten them back. "Isaac!" He snaps, and thankfully the younger wolf comes into focus again.
"They.. urm.. they drugged us, maybe half an hour ago? I was trying to fight them off, clear a path to grab Stiles and run, but when it came around the pregnant one stabbed Stiles- Jesus, Derek. She stabbed Stiles, in her stomach!" Danny and Jackson move quickly, catching Isaac as he stumbles forwards and to his knees. Derek nods as they lift him, Isaac burying his face in Danny's shoulder, and they half drag- half carry him into Danny's car. Derek twists, throws Lydia his car keys.
"Split between the Camaro and the SUV, meet us at San Luis Obispo County's general hospital. It's about three miles north of here." Derek lifts Stiles from her father's lap, and the older man rushes to open the back doors of the cruiser so that Derek can lay her in gently, crawling in behind her to press against the wound, try to stem the flow of blood. The Sheriff starts the car a moment later, constantly glancing in his mirror to see how they're doing in the back. Stiles' pulse is thread at best, her breathing shallow, and she's still bleeding.
"Hold on, Stiles." Derek whispers down to her, leaning to press his mouth against the cool, clammy skin of her forehead. "Hold on."
There is an incessant beeping, a sting in her arm, a tense pain across her stomach and the horribly familiar scent of antiseptic and bleach.
Oh, fantastic. A hospital.
The light is stupidly bright when she makes an attempt at opening her eyes, and it takes a couple of minutes of clenching and squinting her eyes before she can keep them open for any length of time. Grogginess still lingers in her mind, so the fact that there is a warm, large hand on her forearm takes a while to be noticed. She knows who it is, however, before she even turns her head to the side.
"Derek?" Her voice is dry and scratching, her throat clicking as she tries to swallow. Derek shushes her, reaching out to cup somewhere she can't see and lowering the straw to her mouth so that she can take a drink. The liquid is blessedly cool, a relief if she's ever felt one, but a more alert glance at Derek takes away that sense of relief. He looks exhausted, at least three days of stubble, circles under his eyes and mussed up hair like his fingers have been buried in it over and over. He smells like coffee and deodorant.
"What happened?" Stiles whispers, trying to shift to somewhere more comfortable but stopping when it tugs at something in her abdomen.
"You don't remember?" Derek's voice is scratchy too, hoarse but in that 'i'm desperately relieved but need about a week's worth of sleep' way. Stiles shakes her head, trying to ignore the headache building behind her eyes.
"Verne drugged you and Isaac in an attempt to get you to turn and keep... Well, Isaac fought your way out, but between the drugs and Amelia stabbing you, things went south. We were lucky we got you here when we did." Memories, vicious and bright, overflow her mind in constant streams. She can remember the cruel look on Verne's face, and the fear in Isaac's eyes along with the determination in his face. She can recall perfectly the way the woman's arm felt across her neck, or the white, blinding pain of a knife sliding into her abdomen. There is, again, a moment of clarity, of need, and her hands drop to her stomach along with her heart.
"The.. is it gone?" Stiles chokes out in a whisper. Derek shakes his head.
"You managed to exhaust your current magic supplies keeping you both safe so we could get you here. The magic.. it's gone now. If you still want to- if you still don't want the baby, it would be safe now." Stiles considers her options closely. She could have this child taken from her body, and it would make sense. She is young, traumatised, scared and fearful of mostly everything. This is a child conceived between herself and one of those monsters. Yet, on the other hand, this is something that helped protect her when she was in danger, a child that would be powerful, and hers, and innocent. She would have the pack, and her father. Stiles would not be alone in this.
Stiles hadn't even realised she was crying until Derek was brushing away her tears and shushing her.
"It's okay, we can do whatever you want. As long as your safe."
"No." Stiles whispered, lifting her arm to wrap around his wrist, holding his warm hands against the cool skin of her face. "I- if i kept.. the baby. If i kept it, would you be there? You wouldn't leave me, right?" Derek's face is guarded, but there is hope in his eyes, bright and vibrant.
"I would never leave you. Never." He whispers back to her. Stiles is still crying against the skin of his hands.
"I wanna keep it, i think." Stiles tells him, eyes averted but still leaning into his touch.
"Are you sure?" She can hear the hope leaking into his voice. There is a moment of hesitation, but she looks up at him, at his brilliant face and his hopeful expression and the guarded lines around his eyes.
"M'sure." Derek gasps as she says those words, lurching forward to press a close-mouthed kiss against her lips before pulling away, pressing their foreheads together.
"Thank you." Derek murmurs. "Thank you."