#if this happens while Allison is alive her and Derek are just like ‘I guess you’re my sibling now-‘ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nellyharrison · 1 year

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come along, CH. 4

aka my rewrite of season 3A of Teen Wolf based on the question: what if Erica was best friends with Scott and Stiles from the beginning?

Erica is welcomed back with open arms, her pack surrounding her with love and comfort. She struggles with her memories from the vault and the truth of how she was resurrected. Scott and Stiles start to make amends with her.

CHAPTER FOUR - UNLEASHED, PART ONE (click to read on AO3)

If anyone ever asked - and for a while, no one did - Erica would have said that she couldn’t remember what it was like when she died. The truth was she remembered every moment, from the rush of rebellious strength that caused her to charge Kali, to the way the pain seemed to drift away just before she took her last breath and everything went black. What was strange, at least in the mind of someone that died and came back to life, was that she didn’t remember what happened in between. For her, it felt as if one moment, she was dying, and the next moment, she was miraculously breathing again in Derek’s loft.

“Oh my god, it worked,” Lydia gasped, bouncing in excitement before throwing her arms around Jackson, whose eyes closed with a sigh of relief.

“I-I’m alive?” Erica muttered, starting to sit up before Derek rushed in to support her back, Scott and Stiles holding her hands more firmly as their other hands braced her elbows.

“Like we were going to let you go that easily,” Isaac joked, his eyes a little shiny as he smiled over at her.

“What’s going on?” came a voice behind them, and Erica looked over to see Boyd standing up. “E-Erica?”

“Take it easy, Boyd,” Derek instructed, letting go of Erica once he was sure Scott and Stiles had her. He moved towards his other beta, placing a steadying hand on Boyd’s shoulder before helping him over to the chair he had been sitting in. “You’re both going to be weak for a while. Cora too, when she wakes up.”

“Derek,” Erica spoke, getting his attention. “How am I here right now?”

“We brought you back,” Derek stated, as if such a simple answer could explain how she was alive again.

“Deaton knew of a way,” Scott added.

“But it needed-” Isaac started, but Lydia was the one to interrupt him.

“Is it such a good idea to tell her the specifics?” she pointed out, looking over at Erica. “I mean, isn’t it enough that you’re back?”

“Lydia,” Jackson sighed. “She deserves to know.”

“Will someone just tell me?” Erica demanded, her voice breaking in her attempt to raise her voice.

“In order to bring you back to life, Deaton needed the blood of your mate,” Allison blurted out. While Erica hadn’t been aware mates actually happened in werewolves, she was familiar enough with the concept from all of the research she had done with Stiles the year before. “We all gave some of our blood.”

“So that means…” Erica trailed off. “One of you is my mate?”

“Everyone but Boyd or Cora, since they were in the vault,” Isaac nodded. “Oh, and Peter gave some blood too.”

Erica nodded, her mouth slightly open as she tried to wrap her mind around that. “I, um, thanks, I guess,” she finally said. “Sorry, I don’t really know what to say. I’m, uh, I’m glad I’m alive, and I really appreciate everything you guys did to, you know, bring me back.”

“We wanted to, Erica,” Scott assured her.

“It was selfish, really,” Stiles added, managing a small smile.

She looked at the two of them and felt herself start to get overwhelmed being so close to them again. Derek must have sensed this because he started making his way over to them as she eased herself from their grips. “You should all get home and get some rest,” he declared. “I’ll take it from here,” he told Stiles and Scott, gesturing for them to back off before scooping Erica into his arms. “There are three bedrooms upstairs for whoever wants them. Erica will be down in her loft.”

All Erica had to do was look in Isaac’s direction and he was following after their alpha. Right before she disappeared out the door, she spared one last glance towards Scott and Stiles, who looked conflicted but were still more relieved to have her back than anything else. They watched her leave with dumbstruck looks, and it had her inhaling sharply as she laid her head on Derek’s shoulder.

“I’ll make sure they go home today, but I won’t be able to keep them away forever, especially now that they know where you’re living,” Derek told her, adjusting her in his arms. “Although I’m not sure it would be fair to try to keep them away anyways.”

“Derek,” she sighed.

“Our pack is growing, Erica,” he explained. “Because of you, we’re all together now, and we’re all stronger for it. Scott might never officially be my beta, but he and Stiles are part of this pack. They did everything they could to bring you all back, and even when they lost you, they never turned their backs on the pack. I’m not asking you to forgive them, but you’ve been given a very literal second chance here.” He sat her down next to where Isaac was sitting on the couch, Ellie in his hands, then made sure she was comfortable before standing back up. “All I ask is that you really think about what you want to do with it.” He reached down, gently tugging on the end of her hair with a fond smile. “You need a shower.”

“Gee, thanks,” she retorted. He went to walk away, but she grabbed his hand, stopping him and causing him to turn back towards her. “Thank you.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, nodding before letting her hand go and walking out of her loft. With Derek gone, she sunk into Isaac’s waiting arms, a shaky breath escaping her when Ellie jumped into her lap and began kissing her face. “I’m sorry I lied that night. I should have gone up and trained with Derek.”

“Shut up,” Isaac laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly. “I think dying is enough punishment.”

“Yeah, I learned my lesson,” she agreed, laughing softly as she let herself relax in his embrace. “Thanks for taking care of Ellie.”

“She and I are besties now, so don’t feel too bad if she prefers spending time with me,” he joked, patting the dog’s head and smiling as Ellie licked his hand.

When she heard footsteps, she pulled away enough to see Jackson appear in her doorway. “Lydia got a ride home from Allison,” he muttered. “I, um, can I… You know?”

“Get in here, dummy,” Erica encouraged, shifting and opening her arms so Jackson could join them. Isaac and Jackson surrounded Erica, holding her tightly despite how dirty she still was. They had felt such a loss when she died, and they knew to rebuild that bond, they would have to put in the time. Boyd must have realized that too, or maybe Derek had pointed it out to him, because he was soon joining them in her home. All four of them moved into her bedroom, finding the queen bed easier to fit the four of them, even if it was still a tight squeeze. It turned into more of a pile of bodies, with Erica at the center and her packmates curled up around her, but they all felt more at ease than they had in months.

Eventually, Jackson, Isaac, and Boyd all fell asleep, but Erica couldn’t seem to close her eyes. Her hands continued to gently brush through Isaac’s curls and trail across Boyd’s back, more content providing her packmates comfort while she tried to untangle the messy web that was her mind. “I could hear you thinking from all the way upstairs.” She looked up with a hint of a smile as Derek made his way towards her. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I’ve slept enough,” she dismissed. “You know, the eternal kind of sleep.”

“Your body still needs rest,” he insisted.

“I am resting,” she pointed out.

“Your mind needs rest too,” he added.

“Yeah, well, my mind’s never rested, so it would be a shocker if it chose now to learn how,” she grumbled.

“Let me help,” he suggested. “Talk to me. What is it that’s keeping you up?”

“Did you become a therapist while I was gone?” she snarked, sighing when all he did was smirk at her. “I’m only here because nature decided one of you is who I’m supposed to be with.”

“That’s not what mates are,” he clarified. “Not for werewolves. Most of the mates I came across weren’t even romantic. I mean, there were a few pairs that fell in love, but it’s deeper than that. It’s a bond that’s stronger than any platonic or romantic relationship could ever be. It defies nature, which was why I thought it only ever happened with born werewolves.”

“None of the mates you knew were bitten?” she asked, her eyes widening slightly as he shook his head. “Look, I-I get that this is a big deal, and that I should probably be thrilled that I have some supernaturally special bond to look forward to with someone in our pack, but I-I’m not ready for something like that. There’s so much I want to do, and starting a life with someone when I’m not even out of high school is not one of them.” His hand landed on her shoulder, offering enough comfort that she was able to stop the panic attack she could feel brewing. “I don’t think I want to know who my mate is. Not now. Maybe not ever.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but I understand,” he assured her. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, and if anyone pushes you about it, send ‘em to me, alright? Whenever you’re ready to know who your mate is, you’ll know.”

“What do you mean?” she wondered.

“Like I said, I’ve met mates before,” he reminded her. “Each pair seemed to have their own story of how they got together, but there was one constant in all of them. They all recognized their mate before they knew that’s who they were to them. They grew close to them and felt bound to them before their mate bond was fully formed. Even the pairs that weren’t romantic admitted that everything seemed to fall into place once they accepted who their mate was.”

“I don’t want to be bound to someone, and I certainly don’t want someone to be bound to me,” she shook her head. “I’m six- seventeen. I haven’t even had my first real relationship yet.”

“Hey, take a breath,” he insisted. “What’s really going on?”

“What?” she muttered.

“Why are you so worried about having a mate?” he questioned. “Most people would see it as a gift, but you’re acting like it’s the worst thing that ever happened to you, which is hard to believe considering you just came back from the dead.”

“It’s not the worst thing,” she sighed, removing her hands from her packmates to cover her face with them instead. “Dying was definitely worse, but this is a close second.”

“Why?” Derek prompted again.

“Because it’s bad enough everyone literally bled for me to bring me back,” Erica explained. “Knowing that the only reason it worked is because one of them is my supernatural perfect match is too much. I don’t- I don’t want anyone to feel like they have to be with me.”

While what she said told him a lot, it was what she didn’t say that had him sinking beside her on the bed, his hand reaching out to take hers. “You’re afraid your mate won’t want to be with you?” Her eyes met his, her head nodding almost imperceptibly before she was looking down at their joined hands. “Erica, everyone knew what they were doing when they gave their blood. They knew what it meant, and they did it anyway.”

“Oh yeah, because pity couldn’t have possibly been a factor in that,” she scoffed.

“Stop it,” he insisted. “Everyone in the pack cares about you. Some more than others, but you are valued and loved, and living without you when there was a chance to bring you back wasn’t something any of us wanted to do. We wanted you back. All of us. Not because we felt bad, not because we pitied you, but because you matter to us.” He was a bit relieved she was stunned silent by his words, as it gave him a chance to compose himself before he continued. “You know how much you mean to me, Erica. You can see how much you mean to the pack,” he pointed out, gesturing to the three sleeping betas surrounding her. “I might not know where Peter, Allison, and Lydia stand, but I would have to be blind, deaf, and stupid not to see how much you mean to Stiles and Scott.”

“Yeah, well what if my mate is Peter, Allison, or Lydia?” Erica argued, but his smirk told her he knew she wasn’t all that worried about that possibility.

He decided to play along anyways, looking up, deep in thought. “Well, if Peter is your mate, then maybe being your mate will do him some good,” he mused. “If Allison’s your mate, well then that just guarantees peace between our pack and the Argents. And if Lydia’s your mate, you will definitely have to share her with Jackson.” At the sound of Erica’s soft laughter, Derek couldn’t help but smile, glad to see his attempt at cheering her up had worked. “Whoever it ends up being, nothing has to change. You’ll still have your pack. You’ll still have me.”

Erica teared up at that, tugging Derek by his hand so she could hug him. They both seemed to take comfort in the embrace, Derek’s eyes falling closed as he held her tightly. They sat like that for a while, both needing the contact after so long away from each other. Only when Erica started feeling tired, her brain more at peace after talking to Derek, did she pull away. “I think I’m gonna try and get some rest.”

“Good idea,” he nodded, standing from the bed. Once she had laid back down, he reached over and brushed her hair back, giving the end of her hair another playful tug before smiling and leaving the room. He hovered in the doorway until she had fallen asleep, then took one last look at his pack all together again and walked up to his loft.

Erica stayed in her bed for most of the day after that. Boyd woke up a few hours later and decided it was time he returned to his family, so she got up too and took a shower to clean all of the grime off of her. When she came back, Jackson was awake, asking her if she needed anything before setting off to reconnect with Lydia. Isaac was still asleep as she climbed back into bed, a small smile brushing her lips as he cuddled up to her. She drifted in and out of sleep for a while, only really staying awake long enough to eat whatever snacks Derek kept leaving on her nightstand.

It was a good thing she rested as much as she did during the day, because when she attempted to sleep through the night, she was haunted by nightmare after nightmare of her time in the bank. Isaac was there every time she woke up screaming, Derek coming down the first few times before advising Isaac to come get him if he couldn’t calm her down himself. Both Derek and Isaac hated seeing Erica struggle the way she was, but they couldn’t take away the bad memories she had. All they could do was remind her she was safe, take away as much pain as they could, and help her get back to sleep.

By morning, Erica somehow felt more tired than before she had gone to bed. She felt bad for keeping Isaac up all night, so she insisted he go up to Derek’s loft to catch a few more hours of sleep. He didn’t like leaving her alone, but she promised she would be fine for a while. In the end, she didn’t spend more than a half an hour by herself before there was a knock on her door. Ellie began barking, but it was in excitement instead of defensiveness, making Erica think she recognized whoever had knocked. Anyone in her pack would have just walked right in, so she slowly made her way to the door and opened it. She was only a little surprised to find Stiles and Scott waiting on the other side.

“Can we come in?” Scott asked. Erica considered the question, wondering if she should just send them away, but she found herself stepping back and holding the door open for them instead. “So this is where you live now.”

“It made sense after I got emancipated,” she acknowledged. “This way, I’m close enough to Derek, but I still have my own space.”

“It’s nice,” Stiles offered. Truthfully, it looked a little bare, but he quickly realized the reason for that was because she had given so many of her belongings back to him and Scott.

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t come here to compliment my home,” she pointed out, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you guys want?” They both looked at each other. They had prepared what they had wanted to say before coming, but now that she was there, waiting for them to talk, they clammed up. “Look, I got a really bad night’s sleep, so I’m tired, and I’m still really weak so I should get back-”

“We’re sorry,” Stiles blurted out.

“You’re sorry,” Erica repeated. They both nodded, and she found herself nodding as well. “Great. I’m glad you’re sorry. If that’s all-”

“Erica, come on,” Scott pleaded.

“No, you come on, Scott,” she shot back. “What are you actually doing here? Because if it’s just to give some half-assed apology, you can just leave.”

“Please don’t push us away again,” Stiles practically begged. “Look, we… We know that we took you for granted for a long time. We hurt you. I hurt you, and I think I’ll spend the rest of my life beating myself up for that.”

“You’re only saying this because I died,” she shook her head, walking further into her apartment and scooping Ellie up to stop her from barking.

“That’s not true,” Scott stated. “We wanted to fix things with you all summer, but we didn’t know how, and then…”

“And then it was too late,” Stiles finished for him. “It shouldn’t have taken you pushing us away for us to realize what we were doing to you. We should have seen it sooner, and we’re sorry.”

“We weren’t good friends to you,” Scott accepted. “We- We got comfortable having you around, expecting you to always be there. We became dependent on you to help us solve all of our problems, but we weren’t dependable when you needed us. Derek and Isaac and everyone else were right; we don’t deserve you.”

“We don’t expect you to just forgive us and everything to go back to normal,” Stiles assured her. “We want to earn the right to be your friends again.”

“And we want things to be different,” Scott nodded. “We want you to be as open with us as you want to be.”

“Yeah, even if it means hurting our feelings,” Stiles agreed.

“I don’t want to hurt your feelings,” Erica sighed, letting Ellie down before wrapping her arms around herself.

“I know you might not believe it, but we never meant to hurt yours,” Scott told her.

“I never thought you guys were out to hurt me,” she admitted. “I thought you were clueless idiots for not seeing that you were hurting me, but I never thought you were doing it on purpose.”

“That doesn’t make it right,” Stiles declared.

“If you can’t forgive us for hurting you, do you think you could forgive us for being clueless idiots?” Scott offered, managing a small smile.

“You mean forgive you for being yourselves?” she teased, unable to stop her own smile from appearing. “Yeah, I guess I could forgive you.” She saw the way they lit up, but she had to make it clear to them where she stood. “But I still need space. I never thought that I’d get a second chance like this, and I want to make the most of it. I don’t want to die again without you both in my life.”

“Maybe we could just avoid you dying all together,” Scott suggested.

“Yeah, that would be preferred,” Stiles nodded. Once again, Erica couldn’t help but laugh, rubbing her forehead before lowering her hand as she looked at them. “We really missed you, Catwoman.”

“I missed you guys too,” Erica admitted. All at once, they were rushing towards her, wrapping her in a tight hug that she couldn’t help but sink into. She took a shaky breath as they held her, her hands splaying on their upper backs as she felt someone’s fingers weave through her hair. As nice as it was, it became too much, too quickly, and she had to pull away from the hug earlier than she normally would. “Can I, um…” she hesitated, glancing between the two of them. Her eyes lingered on Scott for a moment before she looked down at her hands. “I need to talk to Stiles for a minute. In private.”

Stiles’s eyes widened at that, then darted over to Scott who looked like he’d just been kicked in the gut. “I’ll meet you outside,” Stiles told Scott, raising his brows in a silent request for some time alone with Erica. Scott looked back over at Erica, but she wouldn’t look at him. With a frown, he left the apartment, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself from hovering outside the door to listen. “Am I in trouble?”

“No more than usual,” Erica replied softly, finally lifting her head to meet his eyes. “I-I heard what you said the night I was taken. I, um, I went to your house and you were talking to Scott and I-”

“You heard that?” Stiles asked, swallowing dryly. “Like, how much?”

“I heard you say you liked me,” Erica told him. “I heard all of it, and I-”

“Wait, before you say anything, you deserve an explanation,” Stiles interrupted.

“Stiles,” she muttered, but he stepped towards her and took her hand, effectively silencing her.

“I can’t make up for all of the years I didn’t see how you felt about me,” he began, brushing his thumb over her knuckles. “I can’t make up for all of the times I asked you for advice about Lydia, or all of the times you watched me try to win her over. I can’t make up for the years lost because I was wrapped up in a fantasy I didn’t even really want in the end. I might not be able to make up for it, but I am sorry that it took losing you to realize how much you really meant to me.”

“Stiles,” she said again, her heart racing as she swallowed dryly. She had waited so long to hear him say all of this, but it felt too good to be true. There was no way that, after spending most of his life crushing on Lydia, he could be over her so fast. “I don’t want to be a rebound or the person you settle for. I’ve wanted you for too long to be anything but the person you absolutely want to be with.”

“And what if I do want to be with you?” he asked, meeting her eyes as he wove his fingers through hers. “What if there’s no one else I want to be with but you?”

“Then you’ll have to wait until I believe that,” she requested. “I watched you be in love with Lydia for a long time. It’s going to take me a while to accept you’d give up a chance with her to be with me.”

“I can wait,” Stiles promised, lifting her hand to kiss the back of it. That was all Scott could bear to listen to, a deep growl escaping him as he set off for Stiles’s Jeep. Erica softened at the way Stiles’s lips lingered, his eyes following the way his thumb brushed over the back of her hand before he let her go. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Me too,” she nodded, her soft smile unwavering as he made his way to the door and left her loft. She had no way of knowing what would happen next, or if it would all work out in her favor, but it was a start. She, Scott, and Stiles would find a way to rebuild their friendship, and maybe, finally, she would have a real chance to be with Stiles.

#erica reyes #scott mccall #stiles stilinski #scirica #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf #derek hale #sterica #derica #my fic

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scoopsahoy · 3 years

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Would you be willing to do something with Isaac Lahey where like the reader is being tracked by Gerard and his crew without Chris and the reader wakes up and Isaac's sitting in her room and it scares her and she invites him into the bed and they talk? Fluff or smut is up to you.

ぺ word count ⋰ 1.8k

✰ tw ⋰ none :)

❍ cw ⋰ some mentions of violence

✐ masterlist

⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★

You opened your eyes to the moonlight illuminating your room, allowing you to see your furniture. You looked to your left to the chair in the corner that your bed was against, jumping when you saw a figure sitting in it, snoring softly. You recognized him as Isaac, and you groaned.

You grabbed the extra pillow and threw it at him, and he woke from his slumber with a flinch and a mumble.

“What are you doing here?” you whispered, even though you were home alone and there was no one to wake up.

“Guarding you.”

“Well, you were sleeping.”

He rubbed his eyes to wake up. “Ugh, yeah, sorry.”

You scooted backward, clearing up enough room on your full-size bed. “Come lay down,” you said, seeing a look of hesitation on his face. “Come on, it’s more comfortable than that chair.”

He stood up and took a few steps toward the bed, laying the pillow back in its place and kicking his shoes off. He awkwardly got comfortable next to you, immediately noticing how close you two were. Your knees were touching his, which you could see made him red in the face.

“You could’ve told me you were gonna be here,” you said to break the tension. “You scared me when I woke up.”

“I just figured you would’ve said you didn’t need protection like you always do.”

“I might’ve surprised you,” you defended. “Plus, when I’m, ya know, being hunted down by Allison’s grandfather, sitting in my room without me knowing probably isn’t the best idea.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be intrusive-”

“You’re not.” Your response made him smirk. “Just warn me next time.”

He nodded once. “Will do.”

It was silent for a few seconds. Changing the subject, you asked, “Do you ever wish you could go back?”

“Go back?”

“Yeah. To before you got bit? When you were human?”

“Oh. Uh... No, not really.”

“How come?”

“Because before all this, I was still living with my dad. I’d still be getting locked in a freezer as punishment and getting beat for small things.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a good reason.”

“What about you?”

“I’m still human,” you chuckled.

“No.” He returned the laugh. “I mean before you knew about all this. Before you had to be guarded because your life is in danger.”

You thought for a second. You hadn’t known about all of this very long, only a couple of months. But Deucalion and his alphas chose you of all people to take hostage and torture because you were friends with Scott.

Isaac was the one who found you and rushed you to the hospital, taking some of your pain on the drive and revealing that he was a werewolf. Since then, you two had become good friends, and he was keen on protecting you.

But you’d also become much closer to Scott, Allison, and Lydia, and you’d also become best friends with Stiles and Kira. It surprised you that Derek was so willing to be your friend, as you’d always heard he was a recluse.

“No,” you answered. “I wouldn’t.”

“Why?”

“I wouldn’t have met you. And everyone else.”

“You also wouldn’t be covered in scars.”

“True. But these are my battle scars,” you said, making him laugh. “I’m a survivor, I should flaunt it. Plus, I wouldn’t really know how to defend myself if I never knew.”

“That’s also true.”

There was a moment of silence. “Can I ask you another question?”

“Anything.”

“Do you ever miss him? Your dad?”

He took in a deep breath and you could tell it wasn’t something he was eager to talk about.

“Sometimes. I mean, we had some good memories together. Not many, but some. Plus, there’s the whole orphan thing.”

You nodded. “I get that.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm.”

“I see you and Stiles together a lot and... Are you guys...”

“What?”

“Together?”

You raised your eyebrows. “What? No. I think he and Malia are a thing. I don’t have feelings for him like that.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Just wondering.”

You squinted, a smirk spreading across your face. You scooted your upper body slightly closer to him, surprising him a bit.

“Why were you wondering?”

He reeled his head back slightly. His eyes landed on your lips for a couple of seconds. “I just was.”

You and Isaac had chemistry. You didn’t even realize it until you were crammed in a janitor’s closet with him after school one day, trying to hide from Deucalion. Your face was only a couple of inches from his, and the look in his eyes was pure terror.

“Isaac,” you whispered. “I’m not even a werewolf and I can hear your heart pounding.”

“Sorry, just... I thought you were gonna die out there.”

“Me? What about you?”

He shrugged. “I’d rather it be me that gets hurt than you.”

That night, seeing him step up to protect you and his friends, was the night you fell for him. He’d taken a bad beating from Ethan and Aiden, and you took him back to your house to treat his wounds.

You sat him down on the toilet and crouched in front of him. “Why aren’t you healing?” you asked frantically as you wiped dried blood from his face.

“They’re from alphas. It’ll take longer to heal.” As you began stitches on his stomach, he asked with a wince, “How do you know how to do this?”

“I got hurt a lot as a kid, and one day my dad figured band-aids weren’t enough. He taught me basic first aid and stitches and stuff.”

Sitting on the edge of your bathtub across from him, you stared down at your hands that were covered in blood. A tear dripped onto your thumb and you sniffled, getting his attention.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, getting down onto his knees and crawling over to you. He looked down at your hands, then back at your face. He reached up and wiped your cheeks, drying them off as best as he could. “It’s alright.”

“You could’ve died tonight. I watched them beat you half to death-”

“Y/N, stop. It’s okay. I’m alive.”

“You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“Like I said, I’d rather get hurt than you get hurt. Plus I’ll heal. Really, I’m fine. I can already feel it healing.”

You wiped your nose with the back of your wrist. He cringed and you looked at him. “What?”

“Stand up,” he said as he also got to his feet. You looked in the mirror and saw you had blood smeared across your cheek and upper lip. It only made you cry more, and he led you to the sink. He washed your hands off for you before taking a washcloth to your face, wiping all the blood off.

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile.

“Yeah, no problem.”

Neither of you stopped looking at each other for a moment. You were the one who looked away first when you saw he had began to slowly get closer to you.

“I can drive you home,” you offered. And that’s exactly what you did. Neither of you had been alone together since that night two weeks ago, which brings you back to laying in your bed with him, your face inches from his.

“Mm.” You scooted back to your original place. “Relax, I’m just messing with you.”

“Can I... do something?” he asked out of the blue, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Like what?”

“Something I’ve wanted to do for a while.” He leaned down and connected your lips gently, almost like he was afraid of hurting you. One hand landed on the bed by your side, keeping you next to him, and the other held his weight up.

You pulled his face into yours, deepening the kiss and immediately causing him to do the same.

The passion with which he kissed you was like no one had ever kissed you before. You could tell he’d wanted to do that for God knows how long.

In a split second, he was on top of you, his thighs settling between yours. You wrapped your legs around his, using your feet to pull his body in close to you.

His kisses traveled to your jaw, making you let out a deep breath. Your hands reached up to tangle in the back of his short hair before he sat up on his knees to pull his shirt off.

Your hands dragged over his chest and down to his lower back, feeling a few moles scattered here and there.

Just then, the two of you heard a loud bang downstairs. He broke the kiss and you looked toward your door.

“We need to leave,” he said, immediately jumping off of you and slipping his shirt back on. He grabbed your hand once the two of you had your shoes on and dragged you over to the window, jumping out first and then pulling you out behind him.

You looked down to the ground, realizing how far it was from your feet. It made your heart pound and your head spin.

He leaped off the roof and landed on the grass below, holding his arms out to catch you when you jumped. You hesitated but when you heard your door open and hit the wall, you took a deep breath and hopped into the air, landing in his arms.

He set you down onto your feet and grabbed your hand once again, running with you to his car.

When you were about two miles from your house, he pulled into the Beacon Hills Preserve and parked at the entrance, allowing the two of you to take a deep breath.

Neither of you looked at each other for a moment.

“Isaac-” You were cut off by the feeling of lips hitting yours, and you kissed him back. When the kiss ended, he looked at you.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “I think so.”

“Good. If anything happened to you-”

“I’m okay, Isaac. Really. I’m just glad you were there.”

He smiled at you. “Well, I have no idea where we’re gonna go now.”

“We could just sit here,” you suggested. “Hopefully they didn’t follow us.”

“I doubt they did.”

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did. You hadn’t even been there an hour before you closed your eyes, and you had no idea that he was staring at you, watching you snore.

#fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #imagine #isaac lahey #isaac lahey fanfic #isaac lahey fanfiction #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x reader fanfic #isaac lahey x reader fanfiction #isaac lahey x reader imagine #isaac lahey x reader fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf fluff

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icantthinkofanythingcool3 · 3 years

Text

traitor (pt 4) (final part)

The next day I kept my word and went back to school. I saw Stiles and Lydia waiting impatiently at my locker.

“Hey guys!” I said sneaking up on them.

“Oh god, I’m so glad you’re back. I missed you.” Lyds said, hugging me.

“I missed you too! Thank you guys for caring so much. It means a lot to me.” I said, nudging Stiles with my elbow and opening my locker. He smiled at me as I got my stuff out. The bell rang for first period and Lydia waved goodbye and Stiles and I went to English.

“I’m glad you came back today.” Stiles said to me.

“Me too, now can you fill me in on what’s happening?”

As we sat down, Scott and Stiles started telling me how Danny had been poisoned by mistletoe and how the sacrifices had moved on to healers. They said that Isaac and Boys had gone to Derek’s loft to try to fight against the Alpha Pack. At least I wouldn’t have to see him next period. Algebra was fantastic without Isaac. I can’t remember the last time I had been so excited about math. I made my way into Chemistry and sat in front of Stiles and Scott. After Ms. Blake told us she was filling in for the missing/sick Mr. Harris, Stiles started.

“Hey, my dad said that the ER attendant wasn’t strangled, but did die from asphyxiation. They just don’t know how.” Stiles said to us.

“Do you think the on-call doctor could still be alive?” Scott asked him.

“I don’t know, but Scott, there’s gotta be at least 20 other doctors in that hospital. At least! Any one of them could be next.”

“This really doesn’t sound good, guys.” I inserted the obvious.

Scott got a phone call, and Stiles and I just looked at him, trying to hear his hushed whispers. Then suddenly, he ran out of the classroom. Stiles just looked at me and I nodded my head as he followed his friend out of the room. Ms. Blake looked to me and I just shrugged my shoulders.

When the boys got back at lunch, Stiles texted me to meet them in Ms. Morrel’s office. She told us to find Deaton, we had to use Lydia. Scott went off one way and Stiles and I took another trying to hunt her down. We found her with Cora, who was clearly trying to threaten her. We found an empty classroom. After nothing worked, Scott came in holding his shoulder, telling us that Danny was a target, but not a sacrifice. Scott went off to Allison’s and Stiles left for the hospital. Lydia and I stayed in school and waited for them to tell us what was going on.

third person pov

It was a whirlwind after Scott and Stiles met Lydia, y/n, and Cora in Deaton’s office. They figured out the spot where Deaton was most likely being kept using Danny’s paper. Scott split to go find him, while everyone else went to Derek’s to try and help. When they got there, they had to figure out a way to get the electric back on, hoping for the original plan to work. Cora, Lydia, and y/n flipped on all the switches as Stiles texted Isaac. Cora and Stiles bolted up the stairs as Lydia and y/n finished flipping the breakers. They followed closely behind.

y/n ran up, on Lydia’s heels slightly out of breath. She saw Cora kneeling over Boyd’s limp body, Stiles hand on Derek’s shoulder, and Isaac next to Ms. Blake. She gave Isaac a sad look, knowing how the boy must be feeling. First Erica and now Boyd as much as she hated him, she wouldn’t wish this on her worst enemy. She knew the agonizing things Isaac had been through.

He stood up and looked at her, with tears in his eyes, something she hadn’t seen since before he turned into a werewolf. It was a simple gesture really, y/n held out her hand for Isaac to grab. He only held it for a few moments, but it was enough time. They all missed the jealousy that flashed in Stiles’ eyes, except Lydia of course. As soon as the moment between y/n and Isaac started it was over. She made her way to Stiles and Derek as he walked over to Boyd’s body.

y/n thought Stiles would drive her home, but he had asked Lydia without her knowing.

y/n pov

“Do you know why Stiles didn’t drive me home?” I asked Lydia, hoping she would have some more insight than me.

She pursed her lips at me, “You really don’t know y/n/n?”

“Nooooo...I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew.”

“Well what happened between Isaac and you back there?” She gave me a pointed look.

“What do you mean? Nothing happened. He was sad, I could tell how he was feeling...so I squeezed his hand for like 2 seconds to comfort him. He wasn’t going to show anyone else how he was feeling. I caught him in a moment of weakness. I hate the guy, but he doesn’t deserve another one of his best friends dying. Especially like that.”

“Well...maybe you and I understand that, but I bet someone else doesn’t.”

“What? Stiles...why does that matter?”

“Oh come on, he totally likes you! You should have seen the look in his eyes”

I looked at her in disbelief, “What? No, what do you mean? He doesn’t like me...he has a crush on you doesn’t he?”

“Maybe he did a while ago...but it hasn’t been like that lately. He looks at you the way he used to look at me, I can promise you that.”

I was so confused. How did I not notice this before? Usually Lydia knew what he was talking about...but how could I not have known? I’d always liked Stiles, I feel like I connected to him the most...even more than Lydia. And honestly, he was cute, super cute, although his sarcasm could be off-putting at times. There was just no way, Stiles couldn’t possibly feel that way about me.

After Lydia dropped me off, I debated calling Stiles. My mind was going 100 miles per minute. Was it too soon to like someone else? Did Stiles even like me? What if I’m debating this and then embarrassed myself because he didn’t feel that way? Why was I even freaking out about this? It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world….

I picked up my phone and searched for our texts.

[me]: Hey, I kinda need to talk. Do you think you could come over? You can use my front door this time! :)

I put my phone down and waited, I don’t know why I was feeling so stupid nervous.

[Sti :)]: sure, be there in 10.

Now I was even more nervous, damn it! Why did Lydia have to go and put this shit in my head. I paced my living room, waiting to hear the jeep pull up. Do I just straight up tell him what Lydia told me? Do I try to dance around it? Before I had time to lose my mind some more, he pulled into my driveway. I waited for him to knock before I went to the door so I didn’t look like a psycho waiting for him.

“Hey Stiles.” I said to him, opening the door for him to come in.

“So what’s wrong? Why’d you call me over at 11 o’clock?” He said sitting down on my couch.

“Nothing is wrong exactly…” I said, still not knowing how to continue. Stiles looked at me expectantly. “Okay, well listen, Lydia said something to me on the drive home tonight...still confused why you didn’t take me home by the way. And I guess I just don’t know how to feel about what she said…”

“I just had some things to do. So what is it that she said?”

“I can tell when you’re lying Stiles, especially since you would have just said something to me if that was the case…”

“Listen...you said you needed to talk, I didn’t know I was getting interrogated…” He said, clearly annoyed.

“I’m not trying to interrogate you Stiles, I guess I’m just trying to figure out if what she said was true, before I embarrass myself…” I looked at him with nervous eyes, hoping that he would understand I wasn’t trying to be accusatory, I just wanted the truth.

“Well I guess,” He started standing up and pacing my living room , like I had been doing not 10 minutes ago, “I saw what happened between you and Isaac, and listen I know I have no reason to have any type of teeling towards that, but after seeing what went down during the breakup...I don’t know. I guess I felt like he didn’t deserve your kindness. And well, I guess I was a little jealous. And don’t take that the wrong way, I know you just broke up with him and you guys had been together for a while, but…”

Instead of letting him ramble, I interrupted him, “So you like me then?”

“I…” He looked at me and I smiled at him, seeing him pacing and rubbing his chin.

“I think I like you, too.” I said feeling more confident about my feelings.

Wh….wh..you..what?” He sputtered.

“Yeah, I think I do. I mean Isaac and I just broke up, but I had known it was over for a while. I don’t want to rush into things. I don’t want you or anyone else to think it’s a rebound or something, but I do like you. And I would like to see where this could go...if that’s what you want?”

He smiled down at me, “Yeah, I would definitely like that a lot.”

third person pov

Between Stiles and y/n, Allison and Isaac, and figuring out about the Darach life seemed to be flying by for the group. y/n and Stiles said they were going to take it slow, but that lasted all of two seconds, they went on a date the day after their conversation. And boy was it a real date, Stiles spent all day freaking out because he wanted it to be perfect. Not that it was, a lot of shit went wrong. He had planned a very intricate, multi-part date.

First, they had an early lunch in the park, where a bird stole most of their food and shit on them.

Second, Stiles had planned an arcade/bowling date. The machines kept eating their tickets and the pins got stuck after every single turn they took.

Third, they had a reservation at a nicer restaurant in town...but the bowling fiasco made them late and they lost their table.

Fourth, and finally, Stiles had taken y/n back to the same park they had started at. He laid out a blanket so they could look up at the stars. When he finally thought something was going right, the sprinklers turned on and soaked the pair.

As they ran back to the jeep, Stiles was silently cursing everyone he could possibly think of. He was so pissed, he wanted this to be perfect. He wanted to impress y/n, he wanted her to know she was fucking important. Meanwhile, y/n was thanking everyone she could think of. Even with all the ‘issues’, they had so much fun. She had enjoyed herself more than she had in a while. She was truly, entirely happy. She felt important.

“I’m so sorry about all of this...it was supposed to be perfect.” Stiles said running up the hill with y/n’s hand in his.

y/n stopped him, ignoring the sprinklers that were soaking them, “But it was Stiles, just because everything didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean it wasn’t perfect. I had the best time I’ve had in a long time. You literally did all this for me, I don’t care about all the problems. You made this such a special night.”

Stiles smiled at y/n, “You really mean that? I just wanted to show you that I was really serious about this, whether it takes weeks or months or whatever.”

“I know you are Stiles and I am too. You’re very important to me.”

Instead of saying anything, he stepped closer to y/n and looked into her eyes. He knew this is what he wanted. His feelings were confirmed as soon as Isaac and y/n broke up and he let himself think of her as more than a friend. He hurt for her when he witnessed the way Isaac treated her in the hallway the day they broke up. He wanted to do nothing more than drive to her house and comfort her that day and every day since.

y/n was staring up at Stiles. She couldn’t describe the feeling she had, she just felt entirely happy. For a few hours she had been able to forget about all the drama with Isaac and the sacrifices and all the werewolf shit. Stiles had made her laugh and smile all night. Before Stiles could make a move, y/n stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Stiles’. He gasped a little before he relaxed into her kiss. They pulled away and smiled at each other, it wasn’t quite a kiss in the rain, but it was close enough for them. They walked contentedly back to the jeep, Stiles was no longer pissed at the night. He was excited for what was to come.

#teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf x reader #stiles x y/n #stiles fanfiction #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 7

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Derek was alive. I let out a shaky breath as I used a tree to get back onto my feet.

“Derek…” I whispered. He stood on the hill, his shoulders rising and falling as he slowed down his breathing. Even though my legs were shaking from almost being mauled to death, I started walking towards him. And the walk turned into a run as I made my way to him. I stopped just short of him. Our eyes met and all my fear was washed away by overwhelming joy.

“You’re okay.” I grinned, “You’re alive.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Derek slowly slid his arms around my waist, holding me close. He turned his head, his lips brushing my ear as he spoke.

“We need to talk.”

After taking Scott home, Derek and him talked and agreed on something. They would work together and kill the alpha to cure Scott. I sent a quick text to Stiles to tell him I was alright and Scott was calm.

Derek had offered to drive me home, the drive there was filled with his energy that I had never felt before, it was electrifying. I was just happy that he was alive. Once we were on the street the Stilinski’s lived on, I made him park a little bit back from the house in case Uncle Noah came home.

“When did you start seeing it? The visions.” He asked, putting the car in park.

“They started the night I last saw you. I am always looking through your eyes, feeling what you feel.” I leaned back against the headrest, looking at him. He seemed frustrated and upset. His lips were tight, but there was that look in his eyes that had made him look young and afraid.

“What have you seen?”

“I saw you talking to your uncle, you were agitated and felt lost. I saw you talking with this woman about your sister, you were angry and had so much guilt balled up in your chest. And I-… I felt the alpha attack you. I could not even describe the fear you felt then.” Derek’s hands were tightly gripping onto the steering wheel, it almost looked like he was blinking back tears. He felt weak, why I could feel that now I didn’t understand.

“Derek, what’s happening? I don’t understand why I’m seeing parts of your life.” I turned fully in my seat.

“It’s not uncommon among werewolves.” He said.

“But I’m not a werewolf.”

Derek shifted in his seat so he was facing me, “What it is… It’s a connection of two. Think of it like-”

“Soulmates?” I inserted the word.

He nodded, “But for werewolves it is supposed to happen after a mating ritual.”

“I think I can imagine what that is.” I blew out a breath, “So… why me? Why us? If it’s not possible then how?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because high stress situations have been putting us together.”

“Do you see visions of me?” I was really hoping he hadn’t been seeing me cry over him.

“I have.” Crap. “The night the alpha attacked me and then tonight.” He paused and sighed, “I felt this intense pull in my chest to find you. You needed me to come to you.”

“I thought I was going to die tonight. I thought that Scott was going to kill me.” I shook my head, “My luck is pretty crap.”

“I found you each time, didn’t I?” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“I guess you’re right.” I smiled and looked down at my lap, “Seems pretty inconvenient for you though. Saving me all the time.”

“It’s not.” He reached over, tilting my face to look at him, “Whenever you need me, I will be there.”

“I thought you needed to focus on finding the alpha, so that you couldn’t be selfish.” My breath hitched when he moved forward, pressing his forehead to mine.

“It seems the universe had a different plan for us.” He paused, “I can’t promise you everything all at once. After we take down the alpha, after I have some time to come to peace with other things, then we could take the time to explore…whatever this is.” He leaned back in his seat.

“That is, if those idiots don’t get me arrested first.”

I chuckled a little, “They may be idiots. But they’re still just kids. No matter how many times Stiles tells me he’s a man, he is still a sucker for Spice Girls.” I unbuckled my seat belt, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek, “But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Derek grinned and nodded, “Right of course.” His smile was so… it suited him to smile. After all the grim and stern looks, I wanted to be able to make him smile everyday. I closed the door, leaning into the window.

“Smiling suits you.” I stood up and patted the top of the car. He dropped the smile, and chewed on his cheek.

“Just remember, if you need me, I’ll know and I’ll be on my way.” I nodded, turning away and walking home.

Did I ever think that I would be in a car chase? Absolutely not. But was I in a car chase with Kate Argent with Scott and Stiles while Derek was on the run from Uncle Noah? Absolutely. I was in the back of Derek’s Camaro, headset on with a police radio scanner from the Stilinksi’s basement. It was an older model and out of use but it could still pick up radio.

“They’re chasing him on foot, heading northwest.” I shouted to Scott, holding onto the radio as we raced through downtown. In pursuit was Kate Argent.

“Faster?” Scott asked, gripping the steering wheel.

“Much faster.” Stiles answered, watching out the back window. Scott seemed to go a little faster, but the other car was still catching up.

“Scott, I don’t think you’re grasping the concept of a car chase, here…” Stiles said nervously.

If I go faster, I’ll kill us!” Scott shouted, clearly panicking. Stiles leaned forward.

“Well, if you don't go faster, they're gonna kill us!” Scott pressed down on the pedal, but Kate Argent and her team seemed to divert away and left them.

“They’re gone.” A new message came over the radio: “All units, suspect is on foot heading into the Iron Works.”

“He’s in the Iron works.” I called, and suddenly my vision clouded.

Derek ran but was stopped by a flash bang, blinding him, shots rang out.

“And hurry, Chris Argent’s got him cornered.”

“How do you know that?” Stiles asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’ll explain later.” Scott turned sharply, stopping the car. Derek was behind a forklift, shots ringing out towards them.

“Get in!” Stiles shouted. Derek hurriedly got in the car, Scott speeding off before he even finished closing the door.

“What part of “laying low” don’t you understand?!” Scott said in an exasperated voice.

“Damn it!” Derek growled, “I had him!”

“Who? The Alpha?” Stiles leaned forward, I pulled him back, pointing to his seat belt. He rolled his eyes but put it on.

Yes!” He said impatiently, “He was right in front of me, and the friggin’ police showed up.”

“Whoa! Hey, they’re just doing their jobs-” Stiles defended his dad.

“Yeah, thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state!” He shouted to Scott.

Can we seriously get past that? I made a dumbass mistake. I get it.” Scott said defensively.

“All right. How did you find him?” Stiles asked Derek.

Scott scoffed, “Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?”

“Yeah, both of us!” Derek glared back at him, making Stiles shrink back into his seat, “Or, just him. I’ll be back here.” Derek glanced back at me. I nodded for him to tell.

“Look, the last time I talked to my sister, she was close to figuring something out. She found two things. The first was a guy named Harris.”

“Our chemistry teacher?” Stiles was back leaning forward.

“Why him?” Scott asked.

“I don’t know yet.”

“What’s the second?”

“Some kind of symbol.” Derek pulled a piece of paper with a drawing on it. It looked like a family crest with a wolf and sun. Scott stared at it.

“What? You know what this is?”

“I’ve seen it on a necklace. Allison’s necklace.” Scott looked back at the road.

I sat at my desk, getting some papers ready for tonight’s lacrosse game, when I heard knocking at my window. I turned quickly and sighed when it wasn’t, in fact, a murderer. Derek looked around and knocked again impatiently. I quickly opened the window and pulled him inside.

“What the hell are you doing?” I whispered, “My uncle is here, you know, the one that wants you arrested.” He grunted as he got up, closing the window and the curtains, setting a pile of books on my desk.

“This was Stiles’ idiot plan so blame him.”

“He was right, you are kind of a sour wolf.” I laughed, he was very unamused.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Stay here, I’ll go grab you water and something to eat. You’re starving.” I turned to the door but stopped, turning back to face him.

“How do I know you’re starving?” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Probably the same way I can talk to you like this.” His voice echoed in my head, I jumped and pointed at him.

“Warning! Some warning would be nice!” I gave him a scolding look and went out into the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind me.

As I was making Derek a sandwich, Stiles bolted through the door and upstairs. I sighed and finished the food, heading upstairs.

As I got to the top, Uncle Noah came out from around a corner, “Hey Stiles!” He called and then noticed me, “Hey (Y/N).” He looked down at the sandwich, “I didn’t know you liked ham and…thick cut beef jerky sandwiches.” I looked down at the sandwich.

“Uh yeah, I just figured out I liked it.” I grabbed the sandwich and took a bite. I hummed and chewed it, even though I rather spit it back out.

“I’ll have to pick some up next time I’m out. My buddy at the station makes it.” I nodded and continued to chew. That would explain why it was heavy on the pepper. That guy should really stick to his day job.

Stiles mumbled something from his room as he came out.

“What’d you say?” Uncle Noah asked.

Stiles leaned on the doorway, “What? I said “Yo, D-Dad.”

Uncle Noah sighed, “Listen, I’ve got something I’ve got to take care of, but I’m gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game.” He smiled

Stiles nodded, “My first game… Uh, it’s great! Awesome. Uh, good!”

“I’m very happy for you. And I’m really proud of you.” He said sincerely. If I didn’t have this terrible jerky in my mouth, I would be more emotional.

“Thanks. Me too. I’m happy and proud of myself.”

“So, they’re really gonna let you play, right?”

“Yeah, Dad, I’m first line! Believe that?”

“I’m very proud.”

“Oh, me, too. Again, I’m-” Stiles came forward, forcing Uncle Noah into an incredibly awkward, “Huggie, huggie, huggie…”

“See you there.” Uncle Noah pulled away, heading downstairs.

“Take it easy.” He said as he left. I waited until I heard the front door close to spit the mush back onto my plate. The jerky looked just as intact as it had when it went in my mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the worst thing I’ve ever tasted.” I went back downstairs and threw out that abomination and the rest of it that was in the fridge. For as long as I live, Uncle Noah will be bringing home that jerky for me to eat. But that was a sacrifice I was willing to make to make him happy. I made a different sandwich with edible toppings this time and made it upstairs to see Derek grumbling and broody as usual. I handed him the plate. He took it then sniffed the air.

“What smells like death?” He asked. I covered my mouth.

“Don’t ask, just know that it will never hurt anyone ever again.”

After many rounds of tooth brushing and mouthwash, the death smell was extinguished. When I came back in, Danny from the lacrosse team was sitting at the computer with Stiles and Derek was sitting in the corner, reading.

“You want me to do what?” Danny asked, “Hey (Y/N).” He greeted me before looking back at Stiles. I nodded and waved.

“Trace a text.”

“I came here to do lab work– that’s what lab partners do.”

“And we will!” He paused, “Once you trace the text.”

And what makes you think I know how?”

“I-I looked up your arrest report, so-”

“I-I was thirteen. They dropped the charges.” He said defensively.

“Whatever.”

“No, we’re doing lab work.”

“Oh, my…” Stiles sighed, looking at the computer. I sighed and grabbed a book from the pile that Derek had. It looked old, the pages were yellowed. I turned to a random page and browsed, listening in on Stiles and Danny.

“Who’s that again?” Danny whispered. Stiles looked back at Derek, then back to Danny.

“Um, my cousin…Miguel.” He lied. Derek glanced up at them, then back to the book. I bit my lip to keep my giggles back. Derek’s eyes shot me a warning glance.

“Is that blood on his shirt?” Danny asked. My eyes widened. I hadn’t realized it but his grey long sleeve shirt had spots of blood.

“Yeah. Yes. Well, he gets these horrible nosebleeds.” Stiles looked back at Derek, “Hey, Miguel. I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts.” He looked pointedly towards his dresser. Derek closed the book on his lap and set it aside. He stood up, went to Stiles’ dresser and took his shirt off, revealing the triskelion tattoo between his shoulder blades. And it seems like I wasn’t the only one appreciating that it was off either. Danny was taking quick glances towards Derek.

“So, anyway, I mean, we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably-”

“Uh, Stiles…?” Derek said, holding a button down shirt in his hands.

“Yes?” Stiles asked innocently.

“This… no fit!” He said irritably, tugging the shirt. I covered my mouth and squeezed my eyes shut. It was cruel to be in this situation and not laugh.

‘Then try something else on!” Stiles turned back to Danny, “Sorry.” Derek found a blue and orange striped collared shirt.

“Hey, that one looks pretty good, huh? What do you think, Danny?” Derek looked incredibly beyond pissed, but that anger was directed at Stiles so this just kept getting better and better. I was nearly in tears. Was Stiles using Danny’s sexuality to his advantage? Yes, and we would have a talk about that later, but right now it was too damn funny.

“Huh.” Danny avoided looking at Derek, trying not to get caught staring.

“The shirt?”

Danny looked over, “It’s… it’s not really his color…” Derek removed the shirt.

“You swing for a different team, but you still play ball, don’t you, Danny-boy?” Stiles whispered to him when they were both turned towards the computer.

Danny sighed, “You’re a horrible person.”

“I know. It keeps me awake at night. Anyway, about that text…”

“Stiles!” Derek said, frustrated, “None of these fit!”

“I’ll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text.” Stiles gave him the information and after some typing and clicks, “There. The text came from a computer. This one.” Derek and I came up behind the two after he found a dark grey shirt that managed to fit.

“Registered to that account name?” Derek asked. Danny nodded.

“No, no, no, no. That can't be right.”

“Scott’s mom?” I asked. Right there, Melissa McCall. Danny left soon after, a pink blush to his cheeks. Stiles walked him out.

I grabbed my lacrosse bag, getting ready to leave to get to the game. Hopefully I could give Stiles a few minutes before Coach kicked him back to second line for being late. Derek stood in my path.

“Was that situation funny to you?” He glared, tilting his head to the side.

“Uh, after the fact, no.” I giggled a little, “But at the time it was really funny.” He wasn’t laughing. I cleared my throat.

“Alright, I’m sorry. It wasn’t right of me to laugh.” I patted his chest, “But he was right, blue and orange are not your colors.” He grabbed my wrist, keeping my hand on his chest.

“And what exactly are my colors?” His expression had softened. I smiled and hummed, thinking for a moment.

“Dark red, burgundy. Greys. Maybe blue, just not that shirt. Never again.” I looked down, “You know it’s not Scott’s mom, right?”

He nodded, “I know.”

“And as much of a pain as he is, Stiles is like family to me. And I have this terrible feeling in my chest that something’s going to go wrong tonight.” I bunched up his shirt in my hand, “Please keep him safe. And you should be careful too.”

“It won’t take too long. We just need to get security footage.”

“I’m serious, Derek.” I pulled my hand away, “I have a dark feeling. And I’m scared.”

“And I believe you.” He reassured me, “I’ll make sure Stiles comes back in one piece. I promise.”

I breathed in deeply, and let it out, “Okay.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss on my forehead. I really hoped that this feeling was wrong.

I stood with Scott in the corner of the locker room. Or at least I think that’s where we were. Coach made me wear a blindfold to “protect my eyes from men”.

“Did you get the picture?” Scott asked, referring to the picture he had taken of Allison’s necklace that he stole.

“Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing.” Stiles said.

“Hey, is there something on the back of it? There’s gotta be something– an inscription, an opening, something…” Derek asked.

“No, no, the thing’s flat. And, no, it doesn’t open. There’s nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you? You’re supposed to be here. You’re first line.”

“Where the hell is Bilinski?!” Coach shouted from his office.

“Man, you’re not gonna play if you’re not here to start.”

“I can only buy you so much time, Stiles.” I said into the phone.

“I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him… tell him I’ll be there, I’ll just be a little bit late, okay?”

“Loud and clear.” I sighed.

“Alright, thanks.” Stiles hung up the phone.

I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head, “He’s not gonna make it. First game his dad shows up to and he’s not gonna make it.” I poked Scott in the chest, “You owe him big time for this.” I felt at the wall, making my way back in the ( I think) direction of Finstock’s office.

I sat in the office, fiddling with my thumbs when I felt it again. That painful fear in my chest. I squeezed my eyes shut.

“Stiles, get out of there right now! It’s him! He’s the Alpha! Get out!” Derek shouted into the phone. He cursed and got out of the Jeep, running inside. His heart was beating fast and a terrible realization was going through his head. His own Uncle killed his sister. It had been him all along, how could he have missed it? Derek ran inside, punching the nurse that had been taking care of his Uncle and helping him in his crimes. She fell to the floor, out cold.

“That’s not nice. She’s my nurse.” I looked at the man who I had seen from the previous vision but now he was walking and talking and Derek was scared.

“She’s a psychotic bitch helping you kill people.” I looked at Stiles, “Get out of the way.”

“Oh, damn…” Stiles squeaked. Derek launched himself at his uncle only to be grabbed and slammed into one wall and then another. Peter picked him up by the throat and slid him across the room on his back. I saw Peter’s attention go back to Stiles. Derek pushed himself up, punching Peter in the nose. It didn’t seem to phase him. Peter headbutted Derek and kicked him in the stomach. Sending him back into another wall. Pain spread through my back. But Derek still stood up, spitting blood. He threw punches at Peter but they were dodged, he grabbed Derek’s wrist and bent it back, fracturing it. He went down to his knees. Peter then grabbed him and threw him through a pane of glass.

I gasped and sat back, holding my arm tightly. It felt like it was broken but it wasn’t my arm that had been broken. It was Derek’s

Out of the field, Coach called for a huddle.

“Scott.” I tried to grab his attention, but from the looks he was giving Jackson, it meant that he probably knew something.

“Let’s go! Huddle up! Let’s go! Big night! Big night! get in here, (Y/L/N).” Coach pulled my arm into the huddle.

“Ready? Say it so they can hear it! Hands in!” We all put our hands in the middle of the circle, “What are we?”

“WE ARE LACROSSE!” They shouted.

“All right, take the field! Let’s go!” Coach sent them out. It was too late to tell Scott who the alpha was and there was no way I could slip away to help without Coach noticing. Derek was getting his ass kicked and there was nothing I could do to help him.

“You gotta get out of there. Grab Stiles and run.” I thought hard, hoping that I could send my thoughts to him. I heard nothing back so my heart sank even deeper.

----------------------

Read part 8 here!

Likes, Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Comment below or message me to be on the tag list :)

YSM Tag:

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

#derek hale x reader #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

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teenwolffan-with-nolife · 3 years

Text

The Witch and The Wolf Pt.44

Word Count: 2,497

Characters: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Rafael McCall (mentioned), Chris Argent (brief), Demon!Reader

Pairings: Eventual Derek Hale x Witch!Reader

Warnings: angst, some minor characters death, actual shitty writing

A/N: this is like third-person omniscient sort of but not rly i guess

A/N 2: blech, I still have writer’s block so sorry for this one :/

Masterlist Series Masterlist

“(Y/N), it’s me, again. Call me back if you get this,” there was the 10th voicemail left by Derek, calling you once again.

Stiles was at Eichen House, Scott, Isaac, and Allison were trying to look for some sort of scroll, talking about exorcising the nogitsune out of Stiles. Derek and Chris sat handcuffed in cells, while the entire police department was out looking for you. The two of them stayed there for the day before being released. Derek still had no idea where you were.

Your cellphone soon became out of service, no way of contacting you at all.

“Derek!” Isaac ran into the loft frantically, snapping Derek’s attention away from you for a brief moment.

“What? What is it?”

“(Y/N)’s a demon,” he started.

“What?” Derek tensed up, clenching his jaw as he uncrossed his arms.

“How do you know?” he asked, running to Isaac.

“Because Agent McCall sent deputies out to go look for her, three of them supposedly died from a heart attack,” Isaac explained.

Damn it, Derek thought.

“Well, we need to trap her,” Derek said.

“How?”

“Help me find her spellbook. There’s a way to trap her until we figure out something else…” Derek started, before frowning.

“What book?” Isaac watched as Derek ran across the loft anxiously, looking for an old book of yours. The only possession of yours left.

“(Y/N) planned out a way to trap herself, until we found a cure. It’s in one of her old spell books, but I can’t remember where it is. It has to be somewhere here,” Derek shook his head.

“Well, let’s say we find the book. Do you have an actual plan?” Isaac crossed his arms.

Derek paused, leaning against the counter in distress before frowning, hearing his phone ringing.

“Hello?” he answered.

“I've been trying to get in touch with (Y/N) for some time now. I found a cure,” Derek tensed up, picking up the call from Deucalion.

He looked at Isaac, before putting the phone on speaker.

“What do we need to do?” Derek asked.

“Here’s what needs to happen…”

---

You walked alone in the woods, humming a soft melody as your eyes were black.

You stopped in your tracks, sensing someone behind you and you raised an eyebrow, turning around.

“Yes, officer?” you recognized his badge.

“(Y/N), you have to come with me,” he started.

“Praefoco,” you rolled your eyes, watching him stop in his words, gasping for air as he fell to his knees.

You laughed softly to yourself, walking away from the collapsed body on the floor.

You had killed four more people, experimenting in different ways you could kill people, with your heightened powers. Everything felt better, everything felt free. You didn't have a single care in the world and you loved it.

You stood in front of the Sheriff’s station, using your magic to listen in as you tried to make out who was in there.

“Just find her. I don’t care what it takes,” you heard his voice, hearing him put the phone down.

He was all alone inside. Half the department was out, looking for his mysterious masked stabber, while the other half was looking for you and other missing deputies. A shame they’d only find their bodies.

You could feel more and more anger flood your veins as you took a step, walking into the empty station.

You spotted Agent McCall, sitting alone on his desk as he looked at the paperwork.

You opened your mouth before taken by surprise, feeling some wrap their arm around your waist, pulling you back.

Your eyes glew black as you pushed him off of you, seeing Derek standing behind you.

“Come with me,” he said.

“Oh, you found me. Great,” you said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I did. Now come with me,” he wrapped a pair of handcuffs on your wrists, pulling you out of the police station.

“What the hell are these? What the hell are you doing to me?” you tried to use your powers, trying to break free, but finding yourself unable to do so.

“Yeah, they're spelled. We’re gonna cure you, (Y/N),” he held onto your arm tightly, walking with you as you laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, not possible,” you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, well Deucalion found something,” Derek said.

“You’re boring,” you sighed.

He ignored your remarks, taking you to the woods.

---

“You killed four people?” you sat in a chair, your hands and legs tied up behind you. There was a devil’s trap on the ground.

“Is that judgment in your voice, babe?” you scoffed.

“Those four people were innocent,” he shook his head.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap. Like you've never ruined an innocent life before,” you rolled your eyes.

“That's-” he started.

“That bus driver was innocent. That witch was innocent. Paige was innocent. Erica was innocent. Boyd was innocent. Don’t judge me for killing when you’ve killed too,” you glared at him, seeing his face drop slightly as he turned his back to you.

“That’s different,” he said.

“No, it really isn’t,” you made a fake pouty face as he walked over to you, holding a syringe in his hand.

“What the hell is that?” you asked.

He put his hand on your head, pulling it to the side as he stuck the needle into your neck, while you screamed out.

“It’s blood. It’s holy blood, and it’s the only way to cure you,” he replied.

You breathed heavily, slumping in your chair as your eyes glew black.

“You’re gonna regret that,” you yelled.

“Yeah, okay,” he crossed his arms, leaning against the wall as he sighed, looking down at you.

Several thoughts brown through his head, praying that this would work and that you would be okay. He already knew what would happen when you came to, all the nightmares, remembering all the people who you killed as they haunted your dreams.

“Derek,” you whispered.

He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow as he frowned, seeing your eyes water.

“(Y/N)?” he asked softly.

“Derek,” you sniffled.

He tensed up, seeing a tear slip down your face as he ran to you, putting his hands on your shoulders.

“I-I didn’t… I thought I’d need to do that a couple of times, i-is it… are you okay?” he immediately asked.

“Just get these off of me,” you said.

He stroked your cheek softly, before frowning.

Crap, he knew

“Derek, take these off of me,” you said.

“I almost fell for it,” he scoffed, before walking away from you.

“Ugh, I was close, wasn’t I? But really, that’s all it took? A tear? Weaker than I thought, Hale,” you smirked.

He picked up his book, leaning against the wall once more.

It was going to be a long night.

---

“Why do you care so much about getting me back? New and improved right here,” you laid back in the chair, leaning your head back.

“Improved? People are dead,” he walked to you, holding yet another syringe in his hand.

It was obvious that he wanted out of there. Tired of putting up with your tormenting remarks about him. You never seemed to give him a break, continuously insulting him. He tried to tell himself that you didn't mean it, it was the demon talking. You loved him and you would never say that stuff to him. As time went on, it became harder and harder for him to convince himself. But he still wasn’t going to leave you to suffer.

“Everything that you claim is wrong with me, is entirely your fault,” you said as he froze.

“What do you mean?” he stiffened.

“I lost control because of you. I killed my dad because of you. This whole thing started because of you. Don’t you remember that night? When I came to your loft? Don't you remember what you said to me?” Derek felt instant regret in his heart, remembering.

“You told me you never loved me, we only got together because we were lonely. Well, you were right, Derek. I never loved you. I never forgave you. We weren't meant to last.”

Derek ran his fingers through his hair, trying to hold in his emotions as he tried not to let your words get to him.

“I didn't mean what I said. I was under a spell,” he started, lowering his voice.

“That spell cost lives. That spell widowed a woman and orphaned her children,” Derek frowned, slightly confused.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you. Yeah, my dad got remarried! To someone else, and he had some more kids. He left us in the dust, all alone, all fucked up,” you laughed softly.

“You didn't tell me that-” he started.

“Probably because I don’t still don’t trust you,” you shrugged.

“That’s not…” Derek was at a loss for words as he looked down at you.

“You broke my heart, Derek. You broke me. I won’t be able to trust you again,” you looked at him, giving him an annoyed look before smirking.

“Oh, I’m getting to you, aren’t I? You know I'm right, Derek,” you laughed bitterly.

He clenched his jaw, grabbing your head as he stabbed the syringe into your neck, hearing you scream out in pain as he dug his nails into his palm.

He pushed away from you harshly, immediately leaving the room before a tear fell from his eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

She doesn't mean it he tried to convince himself, but it didn't matter. Deep down he knew you were right, he never wanted to admit it to himself. You would be better off without him.

---

Derek’s head shot up, hearing a loud noise of something crashing. He ran into the house, immediately running to you, hearing someone yelling.

Isaac, he recognized.

You stood over him, as he dropped to his knees in front of you, struggling to breathe.

“(Y/N)!” he ran to you, grabbing the handcuffs before you pushed them away from him.

“I warned you,” your eyes were pitch black as Isaac whimpered softly, falling over to his side, unconscious. Derek could hear a faint heartbeat, knowing Isaac was alive.

You whispered something softly, as Derek struggled to move, finding himself pinned against the wall.

You grabbed the pocketknife, which sat on the table as you walked to Derek slowly.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for so long,” you held the knife against his throat as he clenched his jaw, looking down at you.

“Don’t do this (Y/N). I know you’re still in there somewhere. The real you, not this demon bitch,” he took a deep breath.

“I am (Y/N), Derek. This is me. I’ll save you the trouble of having to see me like this anymore,” he winced softly, feeling the blade break into his skin, drawing blood.

“Yeah, maybe not,” Derek heard Isaac’s voice, as he took a needle, stabbing it into your neck.

You dropped the knife, as Derek gasped for air, falling to his knees. Your eyes reverted back to their natural color, as your body went limp, falling over.

Isaac reached for Derek, helping him up before wrapping his arms around him, taking Derek by surprise. He stiffened first, before wrapping his arms around Isaac’s shaking body.

---

You squinted your eyes, groaning softly as you sat up, looking around cautiously.

Memories came flooding as your eyes watered, remembering everything.

“(Y/N),” you heard Derek’s voice as you jumped slightly, looking back at him in shock.

A son escaped from your mouth, before he wrapped his arms around you, pressing his lips to your head, trying to calm you.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you cried.

He remained quiet, his eyes red as he felt a tear stream down his cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

---

Your mind drifted off, remembering the events from the past day as you sat on Derek’s bed, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He lent you a shirt, seeing as all your other clothes were gone.

“Derek,” you said softly as he walked into the room.

He inhaled softly, sitting down next to you.

“Please, just say something,” your voice wavered slightly.

“I have nothing to say,” he whispered.

“I know you do. Just, please,” you begged.

“I just…” his voice drifted off as he shook his head.

“Derek,” you put your hand on his shoulder.

“We need to stop this,” he said, running his fingers through his hair as he turned to face you.

“Stop what?” you said, although you already knew the answer.

“This isn’t good for us anymore, I think we should call it,” Derek’s eyes watered slightly as he stood up, looking down at you.

“Derek, no-” you started.

“I love you, (Y/N), you know that I love you. But, I don’t… I don’t think you’ve ever loved me as much as I love you,” his voice was low as he looked away from you.

“No, Derek, I-I swear that’s not true,” you shook your head.

“(Y/N),” he started.

“It’s not true, you have to believe me. E-Everything I said, I didn't mean it, I swear,” your voice wavered as you looked up at him.

“You didn't say anything that wasn’t true,” he rubbed his eyes as he looked back at you.

“Derek,” you started.

“J-Just listen to me, (Y/N),” his voice broke as he looked at you.

“We don’t work together. We always argue, there’s always something in between us. We tried to tell ourselves we could get past it, but we can’t,” he said.

“We can get past it. We just have a few problems to work out,” you sniffled.

“Do you trust me?” he asked softly.

“W-What do you mean? O-Of course I do,” you let out a soft chuckle, trying to hide your tears as you frowned.

“Don’t lie to me, please (Y/N). Do you or do you not trust me,” he asked again.

“Derek, I do,” you replied, more and more tears streaming down your face.

“Then why didn't you tell me any of this before? About your dad and his family? That it was my fault you killed him in the first place?”

You bit your lip, holding back your cries as you shook your head, putting your hand over your mouth.

“Exactly. You need to… You need to go,” he whispered, looking away from you.

You could feel your heart aching, feeling your head pounding as more and more tears rushed to your eyes, blurring your vision.

You pushed yourself out of his room, running away.

---

You knocked at Chris’ door softly, blinking back your tears as he gave you a concerned look, opening the door.

“(Y/N)? Where have you been?” he asked.

Your vision blurred as more tears came to your eyes

“C-Can I stay with you?” you cried softly.

He nodded his head, wrapping his arms around you before leading you into the apartment.

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seven-oomen · 3 years

Text

If You Are Going Through Hell, Keep Going

These are the words that Marin Morrell – Druid, Emissary, Guidance Counselor – says to Stiles Stilinski in “Battlefield” (02x11) And I think they suit his character just perfectly, because Stiles has been going through Hell all his life.

The Teen Wolf Fandom don’t talk nearly enough about Stiles’ traumas, so I’ll try my best to do it myself *I won’t even remotely touch on the Void Stiles, Dark Stiles, Donovan and the Nogitsune trauma though, because it’s extremely complex and deserves its own Meta*

It’s Canon that Noah was an alcoholic (as Rafael pointed out to Stiles in 03x11 Alpha Pact), that he neglected and lashed out at his own child (Stiles’ memory in 02x09 Party Guessed), and that Stiles was verbally, emotionally, and physically abused by his mentally ill mother, Claudia, throughout his childhood (there’s a whole magnificently acted, heart wrenching scene about it with flashbacks and all in 05x06 Required Reading.) It’s Canon that Stiles had to take care of himself and of his father before AND after Claudia’s death. And it’s Canon that Stiles – who was only an eight years old child at the time – was at the hospital with his mother when she died, nobody else:

[Teen Wolf Season 3 Episode 11, Alpha Pact]

CHRIS: You knew… I remember meeting you once, before you were Sheriff. You questioned me about a body. You knew something was up. You just weren’t ready to believe it.

NOAH: You’re right. There was a night eight years ago… the night my wife died. I was at the end of a shift, and a call came in. There had been a pile-up, and a young woman… she was a teenager, actually. She was trapped under an overturned car. We had to wait for the paramedics. We were never getting her out, but I was able to hold her hand. She knew she was gonna die. But I just kept telling her “No, no, listen. The paramedics are on their way.” And then I remember her hand suddenly gripped mine so tightly that I literally thought she was gonna break the bones. And she looked me in the eyes, and she said “If you wanna be with her, go now.” And I knew she was talking about my wife… But then that other part of my brain — the part that looks for clues, for fingerprints, for logical connections… that part told me that there is no way that this girl could possibly know about Claudia. And so I stayed. I stayed until the paramedics pulled her out. Until her heart stopped beating and they declared her dead.

NOAH: When I finally got to the hospital, I saw Stiles sitting in the waiting room with his head in his hands… He was with Claudia when she died.

NOAH: But I wasn’t. I wasn’t with her because I didn’t believe… I just did not believe.

It’s also Canon that Derek Hale is a rape victim and that the hunters slaughtered Derek, Cora and Peter’s entire pack/family (including humans and children.) And it’s Canon that Stiles immediately sides with the Hales and openly confronts Chris about what Kate had done to the Hales in 01x12, Code Breaker:

CHRIS: Let me ask you a question, Stiles. Have you ever seen a rabid dog?

STILES: No. I could put it on my to-do list, if you just let me go.

CHRIS: Well, I have. And the only thing I’ve ever been able to compare it to is seeing a friend of mine turn on a full moon. Do you wanna know what happened?

STILES: Not really. No offense to your storytelling skills.

CHRIS: He tried to kill me, and I was forced to put a bullet in his head. The whole while that he lay there dying, he was still trying to claw his way toward me, still trying to kill me, like it was the most important thing he could do with his last breath. Can you imagine that?

STILES: No. And it sounds like you need to be a little bit more select—

CHRIS: Did Scott try to kill you on the full moon? Did you have to lock him up?

STILES: Yeah, I did. I had to handcuff him to a radiator. Why? Would you prefer I locked him in the basement and burned the whole house down around him?

CHRIS: I hate to dispel a popular rumor, Stiles, but we never did that.

STILES: Oh, right. Derek said you guys had a code. I guess no one ever breaks it.

CHRIS: Never!

STILES: What if someone does?

CHRIS: Someone like who?

STILES: Your sister.

Unlike self-proclaimed hero and ruler of Beacon Hills Scott McCall, who immediately sides with the Argents and tells Derek Hale that his family deserved to be burnt alive by the hunters in front of his comatose uncle………..

-----

I feel like there is a lot to unpack on Stiles’s trauma. And I will go over these moments one by one, why they’re damaging, what I think the context of the scene is supposed to represent ft how people might take it. And what my personal thoughts are regarding Stiles’s trauma.

First of, I would like to say that the following words are my take on this. I am a 29 year old trans man of caucasian descend who is an domestic violence and abuse survivor. I am diagnosed with ADHD since 12 and diagnosed with CPTSD since this year. I understand trauma and I understand what it does to people. But I am not a professional. I am a fan, who’s responding to the submission of another, anonymous, fan.

You are completely free to have your own takes on this matter and your own headcanons. That’s what fandom is for.

That said, I would love to have a discussion if you can have it peacefully.

Stiles is a character who was (Unwillingly) neglected, emotionally traumatized and both emotionally and verbally abused by both of his parents. There is even evidence of physical abuse by his mother.

I think it does need to be said, that neither of his parents intended for this to happen. What happened in the Stilinski family was by and large a very traumatic event for everyone involved.

Noah is an alcoholic, as Stiles also confirms in the episode that Noah never really stopped drinking. His alcoholism is a result of his own traumas and possible ND mind and an unhealthy coping mechanism.

As a result of this, Noah most likely was verbally and emotionally abusive during his drunken tirades.

I personally think that before Claudia was diagnosed and got sick Stiles had a good childhood. His parents tried their best to be good parents for him and laid a good foundation for him. This is evidenced in the bond Stiles seems to have with his father in general. He’s not afraid of his father, he’s nervous about consequences. But he never gives off a vibe to me that truly says; I fear this man and I have to stay in line to stay alive.

Unlike Isaac and his father.

This also tells me, that unlike Elias Stilinski, Noah never lashed out physically at Stiles. He was trying to break a cycle of abuse but more than likely still fell victim to it himself when he could no longer cope with trauma and his neurodivergency and started drinking.

That doesn’t mean that he’s not guilty of abusing his own son. We know Noah can be neglectful and dismissive towards Stiles (even though he tries his best not to be) and has a tendency to low key insult Stiles from time to time. Whether or not he truly means to or not is up for debate, I personally think he doesn’t mean to do it, but Stiles is clearly heartbroken every time Noah accidentally lashes out.

As evidenced by sentences: “I’ve never believed a word he said since he was born.” “Thank you, son I should have had.” (To Scott)

Stiles already has a deep founded fear that he’s not enough, that he killed his own mother, that he’s not believed by the people around him, and that people don’t want to take him seriously.

This is clear in every interaction he has with the people around him.

Which also brings me to what happened in 2x09. Now based on the context clues of that scene, I actually don’t believe Stiles saw a play-by-play memory. But rather, Stiles saw his greatest fear play out in a hallucination.

Why do I believe that?

Because in the same scene, Allison has a hallucination about becoming her own worst nightmare (a huntress like Kate) and Scott sees a hallucination of Allison and Jackson making out. (Aka, losing Allison.)

I think the scene both has fabrications and truths in it. The truth is that more than likely, Stiles saw his father getting drunk at his mother’s funeral and lashing out at people around him in his drunken stupor. (Which on one hand, one can understand if you take the pain and trauma into account, but it’s not a healthy or an okay thing to do, obviously. This is definitely where Noah fell apart.)

I also like to think one of the other adults put a stop to Noah’s behavior before he could get out of hand. But we never really see her funeral play out, so that is speculation.

The fabrication is the scene that follows. We know that Claudia was the one that actually said the words to Stiles. “You’re killing me, he’s killing me.”

And that Noah was the voice of reason in that scene. “No, he’s not. You’re sick, let’s go back inside.” (Or something along those lines. I can’t remember the exact words.)

What I think is more than likely is that Stiles’s greatest fear is that his father actually believes he killed his mother. As that is what his mother said to him before she died. And so that’s what he hallucinated under the influence of the wolfsbane.

Stiles’s greatest fear is losing both of his parents, no matter in what way that is. He also fears that he failed as a son, and failed to take care of his father. All of this is fueled by losing his mother and watching her die at a very young age.

And that is where Stiles’s trauma truly lies. He watched his mother die (at the age of 10) slowly while she lost her mind to a terrible illness.

His father couldn’t handle losing his wife and not being able to help her and the previous traumas he endured in his own childhood. And Stiles had to step up to take care of him. That changes a child and leaves a mark. A mark that Stiles can’t shake.

We know Noah neglected Stiles by not being able to care for him as he should have, we know Noah tends to think Stiles has wild conspiracy theories and tends not to believe him.

Which traumatized Stiles even though Noah didn’t intend for that to happen. That doesn’t mean that Stiles’s trauma isn’t real though. It’s very real. This is also the reason why he immediately chooses Derek’s side in 1x12.

For Stiles, not being believed is a daily reality and he doesn’t want anyone else to go through that as well. Which is why he chooses Derek’s side. Because Stiles, due to his own trauma, is hard-wired to believe the victim and tends to defend them.

Now I think a lot of people take a lot of Stiles’s scenes literal because they identify with what’s happening on screen. Because Stiles isn’t being believed by the other characters, the audience tends to take his perspective at face value. Even in situations where it’s made clear that Stiles, like other characters, is hallucinating at the time.

And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that, but I do think it’s something to consider.

Tagging a few people who might want to add a thought or two to this.

@mostly-vo1d @artemisa97 @msmischief101

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #teen wolf meta #trauma #ptsd discussion #submission

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 10: Co-Captain

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

Notes: I somehow forgot that Deaton existed until I wrote this. My bad guys, but he’s not really that relevant in the first season anyway so...

P.S. Kate needs a therapist, Sheriff Stilinski is kinda bad at his job, and so many people almost die. Seriously, it’s getting ridiculous at this point.

————————

Lydia huffed in annoyance, struggling to keep up behind me in her high heeled boots. The ground crunched with each quick step I took, the dirt barely visible through a thick layer of dried leaves. I pulled the sides of my jacket tighter around my sides, feeling a chill run up my spine as a gust of cold air blew against me.

“Allison. When you said you needed to run an errand before we went shopping, a five mile hike in the woods was not what I was expecting.” Lydia had been complaining nonstop since we got here, and didn’t seem likely to give up anytime soon.

We’d been walking through Beacon Hills Preserve for at least ten minutes by now, Allison leading us with a big bag slung over her shoulder. She seemed aggravated, practically running with a tense look on her face. I had no idea what the hell we were doing. She’d been acting weird all week, more angry and on edge than usual.

We were supposed to be shopping for winter formal dresses at the mall. Lydia had been begging us to go all week, since the dance is next Friday. I kept dodging her invitation because there were just so many other things going on right now.

Me and the guys had spent the week trying to figure out where Peter’s been hiding, while keeping Jackson from spilling the werewolf beans to the whole school every time he got pissy.

I wasn’t sure who either of them were taking to the dance, and I honestly didn’t care much. I wasn’t planning on going. No one had asked me, and stuff like that wasn’t really my thing anyway. I definitely wasn’t annoyed that a certain spastic boy hadn’t even mentioned it yet. Not at all.

“Before I forget, I wanted to ask if you’re okay with something.” Allison quipped, not even bothering to turn around and look at us. “Jackson asked me to winter formal.”

My eyes widened and swept toward Lydia quickly to see her reaction. I wasn’t expecting that, even though the two of them had been incredibly flirty lately. It was obvious that Allison still had feelings for Scott, and Lydia for Jackson, so the whole thing was just a big mess.

“Did he?” She tried to sound unaffected as she nearly stumbled over a rock. My arm instinctively stuck out to steady her, and she sent me a small, grateful smile.

“Just as friends, but I wanted to make sure you were okay with it first.”

Lydia pursed her glossed lips tightly and flicked a lock of hair away from her eyes. Her gloved hands tightened into fists at her sides. “Sure. As long as it’s just friends.”

Allison scoffed quietly, seemingly annoyed. I quirked a brow at her back in curiosity. Yeah, she and Lydia had a bit of a love hate relationship, but stealing her boyfriend was a little over the top. Something was clearly bothering her. I’d been trying to figure it out for days, but she never wanted to talk about it when I asked.

She stopped suddenly, and I nearly toppled over as I narrowly avoided running into her. Her bag dropped onto the leaf covered ground with a thud before she knelt down to unzip it. Lydia and I both watched in curious silence as she pulled out a huge bow and inspected it carefully.

It looked like something a professional would own. I’d nearly forgotten that she was into archery as a kid, but that thing was intense. Plus, why she felt the need to do this right now, on a Saturday afternoon while we were supposed to be shopping, I had no idea. She popped back to her feet quickly and screwed a big cylindrical arrowhead onto her arrow.

“What does that do?” Lydia shivered beside me and crossed her arms tightly as another gust of wind blew past us.

“We’re about to find out.” Allison muttered, more to herself than us, as she strung the bow.

She turned her back to us and raised her arms up beside her head. I watched closely as she narrowed her eyes and scanned the area for a good target. After a moment of wobbling, she let out a breath and squared her shoulders. Then, she let go.

The arrow whizzed through the air with a zip before landing in a tree a few yards away, immediately exploding with a bright waterfall of sparks.

I jumped back, not expecting that at all. “What the hell was that?”

That was not an ordinary arrow. I wondered for a moment how she even got it. It was most likely her dad’s, so she either stole it or knew way more about her family than she was letting on.

She dropped her arms with a jerk and whipped around to face us, her eyes glassy. Their hard edge had disappeared entirely, replaced now with something close to fear. “I need to tell you guys something. It’s going to sound really ridiculous and I-I don’t want you to laugh at me.”

Her sudden change in demeanor was a little jarring. It seemed like this was coming out of nowhere. I glanced at Lydia, who was doing a terrible job of hiding the fact that she thought she was completely crazy.

“We would never laugh at you.” I narrowed my eyes at Lydia, silently pleading with her to be nice. She just pouted and looked at Allison expectantly.

“It’s about my family.” Allison let out a heavy breath and wiped at her eyes. “Awhile ago, I caught them in a lie. A little one. But now, I’ve been overhearing some really strange conversations. I think...I think some of it has to do with Derek.”

“Derek?” I sputtered, my breath catching in my throat at his name. I’d learned earlier this week that he was, in fact, alive after our encounter with Peter. They’d both shown up at school a few days ago to intimidate Scott into joining their pack, which was honestly so much worse.

I let out a sigh and cleared my throat. “I mean, are you sure?”

She nodded, glancing around the trees as if he could be spying on us right now. “Yeah. I don’t think he is who he—”

She suddenly stopped, her whole body stiffening as something rustled in the leaves nearby. I watched her closely as she looked from side to side, wondering if something happened that she wasn’t telling me about. She was acting so jumpy and weird.

“Hold this.” She absentmindedly handed her bow to Lydia, who balanced it on her upturned palms as if one wrong move would set it off.

“What? Why?” Her emerald eyes widened in horror.

“Because I thought I heard something.” Allison whispered harshly, as if that would help the situation at all.

She turned her back to us and took a few timid steps forward.

“Allison,” I sighed, moving toward her. It was probably nothing. And if it wasn’t, she shouldn’t be the one going to investigate. “I’m sure it—”

She turned around just long enough to shush me before continuing on her way. I paused, my lips parting in surprise. Did she really just do that?

I stood in place, my eyes firmly planted on her back until she turned a corner, disappearing among the trees. I was ridiculously confused by her sudden personality change. Up until this week, she’d been terrified of anything even remotely out of the ordinary. Especially after we spent that night in the school.

“She’s being weird. Right?” Lydia breathed from beside me, still standing completely still and holding the bow gingerly.

I nodded, eyes narrowing in the direction she’d gone. I guess there was a chance the noise was something supernatural, but we were in the woods. It could’ve been anything and was most likely harmless. Still, part of me wanted to go after her and make sure she was okay.

“Very.” I moved to walk away, but stopped when Lydia’s panicked voice sounded from behind me.

“Um, absolutely not. You are not leaving me alone with this thing.” Her wide eyes glanced down at the bow apprehensively.

“Oh, for God’s sake...” I stepped toward her, quickly plucking it from her hands, and she visibly relaxed with a heavy sigh.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I dropped it on top of Allison’s bag. She was always so dramatic. I motioned for her to follow me and continued forward. Allison couldn’t have gotten far yet, so I figured we’d find her pretty quickly.

I rounded a corner and immediately staggered to a stop as my eyes landed on Allison only a few feet away. She was crouched on the ground hugging Scott, who looked like he’d just fallen or something. His eyes found mine and immediately widened as he shook his head frantically with a wave of his hand.

I whirled around and nearly ran right into Lydia. Her eyes narrowed into a glare as I grabbed her biceps and jerked her the other way. I had no idea what he was even doing here, but I didn’t want to ruin their moment. He’d been trying to get back on her good side, and apparently it was working if what I just saw was any indication.

“Y/N, what the hell is wrong with you?” Lydia snapped, turning her head to try and see what I was taking us away from.

“Uh. It was a...wolf.” I cringed at my pathetic attempt at lying. I’d always been complete shit at it.

She gave up on tying to see what it was and let me continue pushing her forward, but still glanced at me as if I’d lost my mind. “There haven’t been wolves in Beacon Hills in—”

“Sixty years. I know.” I let out a huff as we made it back to Allison’s bag, and finally released her.

If only she knew how wrong she was.

—————————

I crossed my arms over my chest impatiently, watching as Stiles fumbled with his house key for several seconds before finally managing to push it into the doorknob. He was always such a spaz, no matter what he was doing.

We didn’t have much time, but in my experience, Stiles and rushing don’t mix well. We were only stopping here so that he could grab his laptop before we met up with Scott at his house. The three of us were trying our hardest to find a pattern in the people Peter was trying to turn, so that we could hopefully stop him before he kills anyone else.

“Why would Jackson want to be a werewolf?” I asked slowly, not fully believing what he'd just told me.

He turned around long enough to twitch his eyes at me incredulously before facing the door again. “Because it’s Jackson.”

I mean, fair enough.

I’d been delivering dinner for mom at the hospital when Scott texted us that he wanted to meet up. Stiles came to get me, since she would need the car to get home in the morning. On the way here, he’d filled me in on his and Scott’s afternoon.

The three of us had a new policy: no more secrets, and no more lies.

They decided to follow Jackson after school because they still don’t trust him and also, they’re nosy as hell. Apparently, he didn’t make it far before being cornered by Mr. Argent, so it was a good thing they have no concept of healthy boundaries. The fact that they saved his ass didn’t stop him from threatening to out Scott—again—if he doesn’t give him what he wants.

Stiles also casually mentioned that the Argents are actively trying to kill the alpha and his beta, who they think could be Scott, Jackson, or Derek.

Things were a shitshow, basically.

Stiles popped his front door open and I trailed in behind him. My eyes immediately landed on his dad, who was sitting at their dining room table surrounded by various documents. Stiles perked up at the sight and practically ran to his side.

“Whatcha doin’?” He sang, peering down at the mountain of papers.

“Work.” Mr. Stilinski muttered curtly, his brows furrowing as he scribbled something down onto a notepad.

“Anything I can help with?” Stiles’ voice rose eagerly as his eyes continued flickering around the table.

His dad let out a long sigh and rubbed a hand across his forehead. It looked like he hadn’t gotten a good nights sleep in days. “You know, if you poured me an ounce of whiskey, that’d be awful nice.”

Stiles jerked upright and nearly bolted to the kitchen. I just stood in place by the door, watching him curiously. It was like he’d completely forgotten that we were supposed to be doing something. He had a tendency to be forgetful, especially when stressed. I’d say he was pretty wired lately, since he could barely go a minute without worrying about Scott and all his werewolf issues.

He reappeared in the doorway a few seconds later, the bottle of alcohol and a shot glass in hand, and quickly pulled out a chair next to his dad. I decided to join them because I was honestly really curious about what he was working on. Plus, getting Stiles back on track usually took a lot more effort than I was willing to give right now.

“Any leads?” He put the stuff onto the table and picked up the closest paper to him.

“Hey.” Mr. Stilinski swatted his hand away before wagging a pencil disapprovingly. Stiles cried out dramatically and rubbed at his fingers. “You know I can’t discuss that with you.”

“What about with me?” I slid into a free chair on the other side of the table, my lips pulling up into a teasing smile. It instantly dropped at the unamused stare he gave me.

Okay. Do not joke with a tired Sheriff. Got it.

I cleared my throat and glanced at Stiles for help, only to find that he was already looking at me, an amused smile twitching at the edges of his lips. He was trying to be discreet about it, so his dad wouldn’t see, and it was ridiculously adorable.

He sagged back into his chair with a sigh. “Son, the last thing I need right now is you and your girlfriend shoving your noses into my classified investigation, so if you could just—”

My heart nearly stopped beating in my chest at his words. I looked at Stiles with wide eyes, but he was too busy sputtering silently toward his dad to notice. “Uh, we aren’t—”

We still hadn’t talked about that. Sure, we’ve kissed a few times, but we haven’t gone on a proper date or anything yet, and he didn’t even ask me to the dance. As far as I was concerned, we were...friends? That sometimes kiss?

“Yeah. No. We-we haven’t...” He rushed the words out as he finally remembered how to talk, his cheeks turning bright pink.

“Look. I don’t care.” His dad sighed before sliding his glasses off and massaging his temples. “Just please go do...anything else.”

“Alright. Fine.” Stiles started pouring a shot of the whiskey, his eyes widening after a moment as if an idea dawned on him. He kept going until the glass was almost full before sliding it across the table. “Bottoms up.”

He got up just as quickly as he’d sat down, striding around the table to take my hand in his. I nearly tripped over my own feet as he pulled me out of my chair and up the stairs quickly. He shoved his bedroom door open before practically throwing me inside and slamming it behind us.

I just stared at him with wide eyes as he leaned back against it with a sigh.

“I didn’t want him to notice what I did.” He glanced at me fleetingly before pushing himself off the door and walking briskly toward his desk.

I swear, he never slows down.

“Which is...?” I drawled, turning around to watch him dig through each of the wooden drawers.

He tongue swept across his bottom lip in concentration. My eyes followed the movement, my own lip rolling between my teeth. I was always surprised that he could manage to make even the smallest things attractive. “I’m gonna get him drunk. He talks a lot when he’s drunk.”

“So that’s how you know so much about police stuff.” I wandered over to his bed and plopped down, figuring I might as well get comfortable if we were going to be in here for awhile.

He stopped rummaging through his stuff to frown at me. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Manipulating a Sheriff into giving you classified information? That one’s not exactly north on the moral compass.” I dragged my toes along the hardwood floors and leaned back on my palms.

He rolled his eyes and turned back to the desk, searching for another few seconds before letting out a frustrated huff. He practically slammed the last drawer closed. One of his hands came up to scratch at the side of his head as he turned and let his eyes flicker around the room.

“Where the hell did I leave that thing?” He muttered, more to himself than me.

He suddenly perked up, as if remembering something, and took a few big steps toward the bed. He bent down in front of me and started moving his blankets around. I leaned to the side in an effort to give him more room, since it seemed like he somehow forgot I was sitting right here. My eyes flickered over his face, which was only a few inches away from mine.

The window beside his bed let in just enough light to perfectly illuminate his freckled skin. It reflected off of his eyes, making them look like molten amber. His nose was scrunched adorably in concentration as he weaved around me to look for the laptop. He suddenly stopped fidgeting and moved back slightly.

“Ah ha! Got ya, you little...” He trailed off as his eyes met mine. He froze, as if only just then realizing how close we were.

I stole a glance at his lips before deciding to close the distance between us. It was hard to think about anything else but kissing him when he was this close. My hands moved up to the sides of his face and I tugged him those last few inches closer. When my lips slanted over his, he stiffened against me, as if caught off guard. The contact only lasted a few seconds before he pulled back with with shaky breath.

I took one look at his stunned expression and erupted into a fit of giggles.

“What?” He frowned and moved away, his eyes searching mine.

“Why do you always kiss me like you think I’m going to punch you in the face right after?” I chuckled and let my hands drop back down to my lap.

It looked like he was about to argue as his mouth opened and closed a few times. He eventually just dragged his tongue against the inside of his cheek and sighed in defeat. “I just—uh. I want you to be comfortable, and I don’t want you to think that I want you to do something that you don’t want to do.”

My brows furrowed as I tried to figure out what the hell he just said.

“I’m gonna go check on my dad.” He jerked up to his full height and rubbed at the back of his neck before practically running out the door.

I watched it bounce off the wall from the force he’d used to open it, and shook my head in amusement. I wasn’t sure how he still managed to be such a spaz around me after all this time, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t endearing as hell. After a few seconds, I wandered out of his room and down the stairs to join him.

“You know, Derek Hale would be a hale—” My eyes landed on Mr. Stilinski, still sitting in the same position we’d left him in, as he stopped slurring for a moment to chuckle at his own slip up. “A hell of a lot easier to catch if we could get an actual picture of him.”

Stiles was sitting in the spot beside him again, already nose deep in some document. I padded over to the table and slid into the empty chair on the other side of the table. I finally processed his words and looked at him in question. They didn’t have a single picture of Derek? He’d been arrested at least two separate times now. How was that possible?

“How do you not have a picture of him?” Stiles’ eyebrows pinched as he voiced my thoughts perfectly.

His dad peeled a small piece of paper off the table and studied it as if it held a code he had yet to decipher. “It’s the weirdest thing. It’s like, every time I try to get a mugshot, there’s like two laser beams pointing at the camera...”

Stiles ripped the picture out of his hands and inspected it closely. I leaned over the table to get a look, my eyes widening at what I saw. It was definitely Derek, but only a fraction of his face was visible through the two bright circles that took up most of the shot.

“Nice.” I breathed before sitting back down, honestly impressed. That was a pretty cool trick and could probably come in handy later on.

“Oh my God.” Mr. Stilinski groaned and slid his glasses off before leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands down his face. “That ounce hit me like a brick. I’ve said way too much, and if you repeat any of this...”

“Dad. It’s me. I’m not gonna say anything. Come on.” Stiles scoffed and put the picture down, as if his dad questioning him at all was offensive.

The Sheriff’s eyes swept toward me and I swallowed, feeling nervous under his intense gaze. It was like he couldn’t turn off the whole cop thing. Or maybe he just really didn’t like me. I looked away from him and picked up a nearby file to distract myself.

“And Y/N, she’s ya know, trustworthy...too.” A frown pulled at my lips. That stuttering mess made me sound anything but. How did he still manage to be awkward even in front of his own dad?

“See, the thing is, they’re all connected.” Mr. Stilinski started, that jumble of words apparently enough to convince him to continue. “The bus driver that was killed was the insurance investigator assigned to the Hale house fire.”

My eyes widened as I realized I was looking at that very man’s file. I flitted through the pages quickly, looking for anything relevant.

“Terminated under suspicion of fraud.” I read the words slowly, wondering if it had anything to do with the fire.

I glanced up toward Stiles, who fidgeted in his seat uncomfortably before moving his attention to his dad. “Alright. Who else?”

“The video store clerk who got his throat slashed? A convicted felon with a history of arson.”

“What about the other two guys? The ones in the woods?” My eyes swept back to Stiles quickly. I’d nearly forgotten about them. They were “mysteriously” killed the night Stiles took Scott into the preserve to get drunk after Allison broke up with him.

“Priors all over their records. Including—”

“Arson?” I quipped, putting the pieces together easily.

Every single murder was connected to the Hale house fire. But why?

He breathed out a heavy sigh and let the papers he was holding flutter back down to the table. “There’s just so many questions. I mean, if Derek wanted to kill everyone involved with the fire, why start with his sister? She didn’t have anything to do with it. You know, why make it look like some kind of animal did it?”

Stiles looked away from him, his jaw clenching. His eyes flickered to mine fleetingly before moving down to his fingers as he tapped them on the edge of the table, his brows furrowing.

“And, when that cougar showed up in the parking lot, I checked with animal control. Did you know that the incidents of wild animal reports are up seventy percent over the last few months? It’s like they’re just going crazy and running out of the woods.”

It was in that moment, as I saw him so confused and dejected, that a heavy wave of realization crashed down onto my shoulders. Allison wasn’t the only one being hurt by the secrets in Beacon Hills. Not even close. There were so many layers to the problems that all of this shit had created. I hadn’t even considered how it would effect people like Stiles’ dad.

But it made total sense. Of course, how would they solve any of these cases without the most important piece? He’d run himself into the ground trying to figure out the impossible. Until he knew about the supernatural aspect, he wasn’t going to make any progress. The thought made my heart twist uncomfortably in my chest.

I finally realized how much it was weighing on Stiles, too. It was clear that it pained him not to tell his dad everything. His jaw was tight as Mr. Stilinski rambled on about the unknown, his lips rolled into a thin line. He couldn’t sit still for more than a few seconds, and he kept fidgeting with his fingers.

It dawned on me then, too, that he wasn’t just complacent in all the lying like I thought this whole time. He was a caretaker. He quite literally couldn’t help but try to protect everyone around him all at once. I had a feeling that even if Scott said it was okay to tell his dad everything, he still wouldn’t.

“Or something’s scaring them out.” Stiles finally sighed, looking defeated.

Just then, both of our phones dinged with a notification. I pulled mine out of my pocket, brows furrowing at the somewhat incoherent text we’d gotten from Scott.

Mom. Date. PETER!

A second later, another message came through.

MY MOM IS ON A DATE WITH PETER. FREAKING OUT. HELP.

Holy shit. What? That is beyond bad. That’s so fucking terrible I can’t even put it into words.

My eyes jerked up when Stiles’ chair scraped against the hardwood floors loudly. He bolted to his feet and practically ran around the table, grabbing my arm in the process. He muttered something about us having to be somewhere over his shoulder, but his dad was too far gone to think twice about our quick departure anyway.

We scrambled out the door and into his Jeep, peeling out of the driveway as I recited the address and license plate Scott had sent over. Neither of us said a word as he sped to the other side of town.

After several tense minutes, I spotted the car up ahead. My eyes widened as I realized that it was parked on the side of the road. That couldn’t be good. I saw the silhouette of a man in the driver’s seat, but couldn’t find anyone else inside.

Oh, God. I hope we aren’t too late.

“There.” I said, pointing at the car. Stiles immediately veered off the road, but he wasn’t slowing down. I put my hands on the dash for support and looked over at him frantically. “Uh...Stiles?”

I lurched forward, my seatbelt digging into my shoulder as he slammed into the rear bumper of the car. My jaw dropped in shock as smoke started pouring out from under the Jeep’s hood, which was now bent.

The passenger door in front of us popped open, a very angry looking Ms. McCall tumbling out. “Oh, God! Stiles!”

Well, at least she was still alive.

“Ms. McCall?” He scrambled out of the Jeep, looking flustered despite doing that very much intentionally.

“Yes!” She threw her hands up in exasperation as she walked around to survey the damage.

“Wow. Well, this is just crazy. What a coincidence!” Stiles chuckled nervously as he met her between the cars.

I threw my door open and slid out, immediately shivering as the freezing night air wafted over my skin. My head tilted up to the sky as it started sprinkling. Great. That’s just what we need right now. I came to a stop beside Stiles, crossing my arms tightly over my chest to hold in of my warmth.

“I-I really don’t know what happened. You guys came out of nowhere.” He let out a huff and put his hands on his hips, eyes twitching as he raised his eyebrows, hoping she would buy the excuse.

“Came out of nowhere? We were parked on the side of the road, Stiles!” Yeah, she so wasn’t believing any of this for a second.

“How crazy is that?” His voice rose with panic as Peter came striding toward us, looking equally as unamused. “Man, we should probably call the cops. Do like an accident report or something?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” Peter drawled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. What was with the Hale’s and leather? Was it a fashion statement? A werewolf thing? Or did they just not own anything else?

Either way, being this close to him was making my skin crawl.

“Are you sure?” One of Stiles’ eyes squinted shut as he lifted a hand to rub at the back of his neck with a forced grimace. “I think I’m feeling a little bit of whiplash.”

“Whiplash?” It looked like Ms. McCall was going to injure him herself as her voice became sharp with frustration. “You hit us!”

Peter suddenly turned his back to us and began muttering something under his breath. I peered around Ms. McCall’s shoulder and watched as he seemingly talked to himself. My brows furrowed in confusion and I pulled my phone out of my pocket. As I suspected, there was a new text from Scott saying that he was here a few minutes ago.

I looked around, but couldn’t find him anywhere. My eyes landed on Peter again as he continued taking slow steps away from us. He was clearly talking to Scott, who would be able to hear him from a good distance away. But where was he?

“You know what, I seriously can’t do this right now.” Ms. McCall threw her hands up and walked back to the car with a huff.

Without thinking too hard about it, I started walking toward Peter. I wanted to know what he was saying, and what the hell he thought he was doing by going after Scott’s mom. If I stopped for even a second I would’ve realized how epically stupid that was, but at the current moment I was too angry to care. For some reason, putting a human face to the alpha had made him just a little less scary.

I only made it a few steps before a firm hand on my wrist stopped me. I turned to see Stiles staring at me with wide eyes. “Are you out of your freakin’ mind?”

At the touch of his skin on mine, I suddenly felt like the earth shifted beneath my feet. I staggered back a step, a gasp escaping me as a vivid image of Scott flashed in my mind. The only thing I could see was his face, scrunched into a pained grimace.

Stiles ripped his hand away and I was dropped harshly back into the present. “Whoa. What? What?”

I stumbled to the side, feeling lightheaded, and met his wide eyes. He stared at me with parted lips, his eyebrows raised in shock. The vision had come and gone too fast for me to see what was going on, but I knew it couldn’t be good as my stomach tightened uncomfortably.

“Do that again.” I rushed the words out in one breath. “Touch me again.”

He stammered silently for a few seconds, his confused eyes searching mine. I jutted my arm out toward him expectantly and he rolled his lips into a thin line, looking uneasy. After a few moments of hesitation, he slowly wrapped his hand around my wrist again.

My eyes fluttered closed as the image of Scot instantly returned. I could no longer feel the rain on my face or the chill of the night air. I was just looking down at Scott, watching as he writhed around on the leaf covered ground, a wet stain on his shirt just below his heart slowly expanding.

A thick liquid stained his lips and chin. It looked like blood, but was almost black. He took in a hoarse breath, his chest heaving from the effort.

Suddenly, my eyes snapped open with a jolt. I nearly toppled over as my legs gave out under me. Stiles wrapped his hands around my biceps and studied with me a hard look. I blinked at him a few times, trying to get my eyes to refocus.

“I’m sorry, but I had to stop. It looked like you were in pain. What the hell was that?” His voice was tight with concern as his eyes flickered around my face.

I rubbed a hand against my chest in an effort to steady my breathing. My head pounded harshly as I looked around, trying to convince myself that I was actually back in the present.

“We need to go. Right now.” I made a move toward the Jeep, but Stiles stood firmly in place, stopping me easily.

He gave me a hard look and shook me slightly as he spoke. “Okay. You’re really starting to freak me out. What’s going on right now?”

“I’ll explain on the way. Just...please. Trust me.” His eyes twitched as he swallowed slowly. I tried my hardest to silently convey how serious this was. If we were going to make it to Scott before whatever the hell that was happened, we needed to go. Now.

He hesitated a moment, looking at me as if he wasn’t convinced of my sanity, but eventually nodded in agreement. I let out a breath of relief, casting a final quick glance at Ms. McCall and Peter as I climbed into the Jeep. I was nervous about leaving her with him, but right now Scott was the priority.

I just hoped we would get there in time.

—————————

I squinted through the darkness, using my phone’s flashlight to help illuminate our path as we walked through the woods. It was nearly midnight now, the sun long gone. I was starting to lose hope that we would find Scott. It looked like he was somewhere in the preserve during my vision, but we had yet to run into a single other living thing yet. With each passing minute, it seemed more and more likely that I was actually just crazy.

“So I’m your anchor? Me. Stiles.” He asked from beside me, for the third time in ten minutes.

I sighed, pulling his jacket tighter against me as a gust of wind brushed along the back of my neck. He’d given it to me without hesitation when we got out of the car, already assuming I’d be cold. Since we had nothing else to do while looking for Scott, I told him about what I saw by the cars and explained how Derek helped me with my visions last week.

He wasn’t happy, to put it mildly. He probably hated the guy more than any of us, and had since let me know how much he despised the idea of me being alone with him. Repeatedly.

“Don’t go getting a big head about it.” I quipped, mostly joking. “I’m sure I could pick a new one if I wanted to.”

He stopped walking and looked over at me, utterly offended. When he leaned forward to narrow his eyes, I noticed something over his shoulder. I took a big step toward him and shoved his head out of the way quickly.

“Hey! What the hell was—”

“Oh my God.” My heart instantly started hammering in my chest as I saw a crumpled figure a few feet ahead. “Scott!”

As I sprinted toward him, I heard a low, pained groan. Within seconds, I fell onto my knees beside him. His eyes were fluttering as he stared vacantly up into the sky and clutched his injured side. My hands twitched in the air above him, wanting to help but having no idea what to do. Thick smoke started pouring out between his fingers, and I reeled back in disgust.

Stiles scrambled to his other side a moment later, wide eyes flickering back and forth between Scott and I as if he couldn’t believe that I was right. Honestly, I couldn’t either.

“Allison...” Scott choked the word out, barely able to get a breath in.

“Seriously?” I shouted urgently as panic surged through me. “You’re literally dying and that’s all you can say? What the hell happened?”

“Derek...Jackson was...” He sputtered and coughed, thick blood oozing from his mouth.

I groaned in frustration. This whole gasping out one word at a time thing was not working for me. I looked up at Stiles desperately. “We have to do something.”

“Uh. Right. Okay...” I could practically see the gears turning in his head as his eyes flickered around spastically before finally coming back to mine. “The clinic. We have to take him to the clinic.”

“What?” I breathed, surprised by the suggestion.

“Just, come on. We don’t have much time.”

We both draped each of Scott’s arms over our shoulders and started dragging him back the way we came. I was obviously Incredibly freaked out because he was dying right in front of us, but I was angry, too. I was so mad at myself for not being able to see this sooner. If I had control over my visions, we could’ve been here before he even got hurt. I couldn’t help but feel partially to blame for the whole thing.

Within minutes we were barreling through the vet clinic’s doors. We came in using the garage, the same way Scott had told us to when Derek was in this same position. It was obvious that he’d been shot with a bullet covered in wolf’s bane, since he wasn’t healing at all. Stiles and I dropped him onto one of the metal operating tables the second we got in the room.

He was passed out cold at this point. I bent over to rest my hands on my knees, my chest heaving with labored breaths. He was heavy as shit, and Stiles and I aren’t exactly the peak of fitness. After I caught my breath, I stood up straight and immediately froze at the sight of Deaton in the doorway.

He was just standing there, observing us curiously. We were so screwed. He could charge us with breaking and entering, at the very least. Plus, Scott was laying on his table with a bullet hole in his chest. There was absolutely no way to explain this, and we didn’t have time anyway.

“Uh...” I stammered, not sure what to say.

“Remove his shirt.” Deaton said slowly, his eyes firmly planted on Scott as he walked across the room.

Stiles and I exchanged a quick glance, but did as he said. I grimaced and reared back as I saw the bullet wound properly for the first time. It was still discharging that weird smoke and was oozing a thick, nasty looking black liquid. Deaton returned to the table with a pair of long tweezers, gauze, and a small jar. He looked strangely calm as he peered down at Scott’s unconscious frame.

“I thought you were a vet.” My eyes trailed over him as he snapped on a pair of medical gloves. I appreciated the help from an adult right now, but he wasn’t exactly a doctor.

He glanced at me fleetingly before picking up the tweezers. “That’s correct. And ninety percent of the time I’m mostly treating cats and dogs.”

“Mostly?” Stiles muttered from beside me, his eyes glistening down at Scott with worry.

Deaton paused just before digging the tweezers into Scott’s side. He looked at the two of us, a small smile pulling at his lips as if he knew something we didn’t. “Mostly.”

Just then, my phone started ringing loudly. I winced at the high pitched tone and reached into my back pocket to fish it out, but stilled when I came up empty. My brows furrowed as I patted my hands against my jeans. I could’ve sworn I put it back in there once we found Scott.

“What are you doing?” Stiles eyed me curiously from the other end of the table.

“Have you seen my phone?” I muttered, walking around the room to look around the floor. The ringing kept getting progressively louder, to the point that it was almost painful. I rubbed at my ears as I continued searching.

“Y/N...” Something about his tone made my attention snap back to him. I glanced down at his hand as he held it out toward me. “You dropped it in the woods so I picked it up...”

My breath caught in my throat as I looked down at the screen. It was black. There was no one calling me, but I could still hear the ringing even now. It didn’t make any sense. I took it from him with a shaky hand, avoiding his concerned gaze. I nearly jumped out of my skin as it started actually going off the second my fingers touched it.

My eyes flickered up toward Stiles and Deaton, who were both watching me closely. I cleared my throat and turned my back to them before answering.

“Y/N!” Allison yelled harshly, panic clear in her voice. I immediately stiffened. What more could go wrong tonight? “You’re never going to fucking believe this.”

“What?” I breathed, my heart already beating erratically in my chest with anticipation.

“My aunt just showed me this creepy room we have in our basement—which I didn’t even know was a thing by the way—and you’ll never believe who she has chained up in there.”

I blinked a few times, taking a moment to process what she said. “Allison, just spit it out already.”

“Derek fucking Hale! And—and that’s not all. He was...he’s. Oh my God, I can’t even say it. He’s a...a...”

I pinched my eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable bomb to drop. How did he always manage to get himself in these ridiculous situations? Like, are you kidding me right now? As if dealing with Peter wasn’t enough, he goes and gets himself kidnapped by the Argents too. I turned back around to face Stiles and Deaton, my gaze shifting to the fresh bandage on Scott’s side. I took the relieved look in their eyes as a good sign that he was going to be okay. I held onto the small hope that Allison’s innocence had been preserved and she wasn’t about to say what I thought.

“You’re going to think I’m crazy, but he’s—she said that he’s a...werewolf.”

Yeah, I knew we weren’t that lucky.

Episode 9 Episode 11

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whenwordsmakesense · 3 years

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Day 7: Crossover | Day 8: Magic

@pridewrite2021

Okay, so, this work consists of Dimension Travel, or “Crossing” into another world as I have taken from the prompt. I’m not sure if that counts, but I’ve already written it so... Here it is :D

(Lost You) Found You

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Derek Hale × Stiles Stilinski

Words: 3.3k

Summary: Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough.It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and for Derek.

This is the link for AO3. Or you can read here.

Warning(s): Grief/Mourning, MCD, Child(ren) Death [not graphic, mentioned], Kate Argent [also mentioned]

>> Starts from here.

The rain falling down on the earth is harsh and unforgiving, and Stiles Stilinski loves it. The pain of the droplets falling on his skin makes him feel alive, lets him feel everything he's trying to repress feeling for a long time.

He thinks he mostly started to bottle up his feelings after he killed Allison.

“Let's go.”

Stiles doesn't move. He stays seated on the broken, burnt porch of the Hale House, tasting the guilt on his tongue, it's so potent.

It's not just his own, after all. Survivor's guilt is a bitch enough on its own, but mixed with two dudes who hate their very existence, what their choices have caused their loved ones—dead loved ones—it's so much more.

“It will follow us, you know.” Stiles says, because he knows it will. The bad luck is like a suffocating cloak around him, around both of them, a sadist entity that has pulled out the last breath from everyone but them.

Derek Hale sits beside him, their hands coming to intertwine of its own accord.

Stiles doesn't exactly remember when he fell in love with him. When his heart beat not for Lydia, but Derek. But he remembers the day he realised it.

It was in Mexico, when Derek died—only to evolve. But Stiles hadn't known he was evolving, and he'd wanted to stay beside the ex-Alpha. But because Derek Hale is a fucking martyr, he'd insisted Stiles go and save his best friend—even if Scott hadn't been his best buddy in ages. Stiles wasn't even sure he had friends anymore.

So Stiles had left. And then he'd come out with Scott alive, only to find Derek as a wolf, evolved and majestic and every inch strong and beautiful that Derek's soul is.

And then Derek had left with Braeden.

That had been four years ago, now. Derek had come back with him to fight against Monroe three years ago—and stayed.

Even if it meant watching his third pack die. Even if it meant having people to care about, and vowing to let no harm come to them, and failing them.

But the past-them didn't know what was about to come.

Stiles wished they did, because then he could have done something.

Not let everyone die, for one.

When their relationship began—his and Derek's—it was like the best feeling in the world. The two of them were easy, when the dust settled. There was—and still is—a familiarity between them that Stiles' soul believes comes from a past life.

But nothing good lasts in Beacon Hills, and soon the war became a death warrant for everyone in their pack.

There were divides so deep that none of them could trust each other with their personal information—Even Scott didn't know Liam and Theo were together until they found their bodies, Theo's body over Liam's, as if protecting him—Stiles still doesn't know if anyone but Lydia and his dad even knew about him and Derek. But despite the personal mistrust, they were pack. And pack kept each other alive.

Because they had each other's backs. Always.

Stiles remembers those late-nights, when everyone would hope for a better future without a war, where they could start living again. And he smiles at their hope, their positive attitudes.

And then he cries. Because none of them are alive and everyone is dead and it's just them and dad's gone and Scott is gone and Melissa is gone and Lydia is gone—

“Breathe, Stiles, please. Breathe.”

Only Derek is here. Maybe, once, Stiles would have thought that was enough. But it's not, it's not enough. It's not enough because there's a whole in his heart, his soul, his very being where the pack used to be.

He can't do this. He can't just—just forget and move on.

His panic attack goes away as fast as it had come, leaving behind a clear idea of what he should do.

For him and Derek.

At least one thing in his life isn't completely bad.

***

The Animal Clinic—the one Deaton left behind after his death in Scott's name, and now belongs to the County since Scott didn't think to name it to anyone else—stands deserted and dirty in the pale light of the half-full moon.

“What if it doesn't work?” Derek asks him. Stiles looks at him, and he looks just as he'd expected. Resigned.

It's either this will work, or they'll die trying.

Derek doesn't mind dying. Stiles knows because he's heard the man crying and shaking and admitting it—losing Cora after years of believing she was dead only to find she wasn't dead, and then being a major reason in her actual death would do that to anyone, not to mention the tremendous loss Derek's faced his whole life.

It's ironically sad, how the both of them have drifted closer, both of them hating themselves for the loss of everyone so much that the love they share for each other is barely more than an attempt to have something right.

But Stiles loves Derek, and he thanks the universe for loving Derek not just to hold on to something, but because he cares. As Derek does for him.

Derek helps him prepare the spell, the set-up. Stiles has never been more grateful in his life for his weird brand of magic—of the power his belief holds.

Stiles knows this is the only way he'll be able to live, and he knows it's the same for Derek. But he also knows that he would have made it, even if barely, as long as Derek would be by his side.

He kisses Derek, long and passionate and with everything he has. When they part, Derek rests their foreheads together.

“I love you.” Derek tells him. A tear flows from his electric, glowing blue eyes, and Stiles wipes it away with his thumb.

“I love you too. With everything in me.”

And then he believes.

***

The residents of Beacon Hills, the few those remain, feel goosebumps rise on their skin on one evening of 2017, days after the latest massacre of their little town.

They all hallucinate a voice saying, “Balance,” freezing everyone, and then they continue on, unaware that the things were about to change.

Things were about to change for the better, The Spark's and The Alpha's belief powered the Nemeton to make sure of that.

***

The cold air is what wakes him up. That, and the soft groaning from his right, which Stiles instantly recognises as Derek.

Stiles opens his eyes, and the air around him doesn't feel oppressive. It's easier to breathe, to think. There's a feeling in his chest that can't quite grasp, and he's so buy trying to analyse it that he completely misses the huge tree stump behind him.

It's only when Derek curses about fucking woods that he realises they aren't in the clinic at all, but out in the preserve and near the Nemeton.

Stiles looks over at Derek. The 'wolf looks back with wide eyes.

“I—Stiles,” he chokes out, voice a thin line between relief and a sob, “I can feel them. I can feel them, all of them,”

The hole in his heart, his soul seems smaller, somehow, like they're being stitched together, and Stiles only has a vague idea about it. But the way Derek is reacting, his suspicions are confirmed.

“It worked,” Stiles whispers, and hugs Derek tight, both of them crying in euphoria.

Lost in themselves, neither of them notices the small plant that blooms behind them on the Nemeton, a new life breathed into it by the sacrifice of the various souls the two travelers brought with them.

Across the town, a Druid snaps his eyes at the sky above, instantly alerted to the change in the air—the lightness, the power—and his eyes almost bug out of his skull when a voice whispers, “Balance.”

***

Stiles and Derek trek through the familiar woods of the preserve in soft whispers and an excitement that neither has felt in a long time.

“I wonder what's different here,” Stiles says, hands moving with Derek's, clasped tightly as it is. They might have made it to another dimension or universe or whatever this is, but they haven't left their paranoia or love or past behind him. They're who they are because of their experiences, and it's not going to change, even if they get an eternity to do so. But it doesn't mean they aren't at least a little bit excited.

Derek had said he smelled his family all over the preserve, which means Stiles has somehow made them cross into a universe where the fire never happened.

“We aren't here.”

Stiles stops in his tracks. He looks at Derek. Stares, really. “The hell?”

Derek looks at him with soft, but sad eyes, like he has since they first lost Stiles' dad and then slowly everyone else.

“Stiles,” he says, “I might not know much about magic, but I know that there can't be two of us in the same universe. Magic won't let it happen.”

Stiles stares at Derek for a long while. “You can't smell yourself, can you?” He asks softly.

Derek nods his head. He laughs hollowly. “Guess me dying would really have been the best thing,”

Stiles kisses him to shut him up. “No, dumbass. Neither of us can have two of us here. If you're gone it means I am too,” he says fiercely. “We don't know what's different here, Der. For all we know you died in a stupid car crash because you drive so fucking fast—”

Derek's laugh, a little more genuine now, makes him smile and kiss Derek on the cheek.

“The thing is, we don't know. Anything could have happened, okay? Your family's death has never been your fault.”

Derek nods, and then with his eyes boring into Stiles' like they can read everything on his mind, Derek says, “Your mother's death or Allison's and Aiden's deaths has never been your fault.”

They both ignore the tears that fall from Stiles' eyes, and then Derek is tugging at his hand to continue on their little trek to the Hale House—which is hopefully standing, unburnt and filled with every bit of joy and noise that it wasn't in their world.

***

The two of them emerge from the trees to a house that's filled with silence. There's no noise coming from inside, and the lights are off—Stiles thinks they're in mourning. But why?

Derek leads him further, their hands forever joined together, and Stiles can't even appreciate the beauty of the house—the images of the burnt out husk that it was in theirs plays over and over in his mind—because it feels... Wrong.

He would have thought they'd all be happy. Full of life and enjoying every moment spent together.

Before Stiles can ask Derek to relay what he can hear, the 'wolf's breath hitches and groans out a choked off, “Laura,”

The main door of the house slams open, and there stands a woman who Stiles has seen all but once in his life—body sliced in half—and instantly recognises.

Tears falls from his eyes, and he lets Derek stick his nose in his neck, inhaling the scent of his boyfriend, of his comfort, his anchor.

Stiles rubs his hands over Derek's back, comforting him as much as he's able while he himself grieves for the years Derek's sister—her Alpha—could have lived but didn't. “She's alive, Der. She's alive, your sister is alive.”

He looks up at Laura when he hears a whine. Laura looks like she's seen a ghost, and when she keeps looking at Derek—and him, like she's seeing his ghost too, but they didn't know each other in this world, or did they?—Stiles can only crumble in his self-hatred and guilt.

He's never claimed he's not a liar, after all.

“We're dead in this world, aren't we,” he whispers, and Derek steps back just enough to say, “I was right,”

Stiles punches him in the shoulders. It makes Derek smile, even if it's wobbly.

Stiles watches as Derek goes to hug his sister, and the way she falls into his arms, boneless. He feels himself wishing to hug his dad, his pack. And then like suddenly his luck has gotten turned around and it's all good from then on, he sees two people he never would have thought to in the Hale House.

“Mom, dad,” he whispers, and then he's being hugged, too.

***

Stiles and Derek sit on the loveseat in the living room, both of their hands intertwined, anchoring them in the sea of people they'd never thought they'd see again. Not after they buried them all.

Stiles feels angry and envious at them all at only ever losing two people when he and Derek have lost everyone, but he pushes that feeling down underneath all the happiness he gets at having to have back all of them. Derek seems to be on the same boat as him, because they always seem to be.

Talia Hale and Nathaniel Hale—Alpha and Alpha Mate of the Hale Pack—sit in the middle of the room, in direct eyesight of him and Derek, as good Alphas are wont to do when unknown people wearing their dead kid's faces show up unexpectedly.

Peter Hale, Laura Hale and Cora Hale all sit on the floor before the two of them, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd sitting in their touching distance.

And then there's Noah John Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski, both of them sitting on the other loveseat, completing the circle.

Derek and him have put their emotions in the backburner for now, because both of them know when it comes to the safety of their pack, they'd rather be objective than emotional. They've lost too much to not learn that.

“So,” Talia Hale starts, eyes boring into Derek's for a moment before she has to avert her eyes, “you claim to be Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski.”

Derek shares a look with him, and Stiles puts his hand on Derek's knees. They might have decided to put their emotions in check, but doing it is harder in practice.

“Yes,” he says, and squeezes Derek's thigh in comfort. Everyone is drawn to that movement, but none of them say anything. Stiles throws Laura a glance though, because she seems to be biting back a smirk.

“Why should we believe you?” Talia continues.

“Ask us anything that only we would know.” There can't be that much of a difference in their lives, right? The fire obviously didn't happen, and his mom is alive, but Erica, Boyd and Isaac still ended up being werewolves. There has to be some sort of overlap.

Cora flashes her yellow beta eyes at them. “My brother died at 16. Stiles—the real Stiles—died when he was 10. There's not much we can ask.” She gives them a feral smile, full of teeth—Derek and Stiles share a look; she's definitely been spending a lot of time with Peter—and adds, “But you already know that, don't you?”

Derek takes a deep breath and shuffles closer to Stiles, and Stiles knows without words that he is missing their Cora right now—the one they buried beside Laura.

Cora's smile falters at Derek's display, and she looks at everyone before focusing back on them.

Stiles gives her a hard look. “No, Cora. We didn't know that.” He says, voice hard from the tears he's holding back. “How did they die? And when?”

Nobody answers him. Well, if it's going to be like that.

Stiles has always been good at research. It's not hard to figure things out. And given that it's January here—like it was there—and the fact that he knows they were all mouring together... Something must have brought the two families together. Something other than their kids' death.

“Der, when did the fire happen?” He asks softly. Derek looks up at him with furrowed brows.

“You know when,” Derek says.

“I do,” he agrees. “Tell them.”

Understanding dawns on his face. Bunching up Stiles' hoodie, Derek leans in and kisses him, hard and desperate, like he's afraid Stiles will vanish any second.

“Idiot.” Derek calls him fondly.

“Says the ex-Alpha with the martyr complex,”

Someone clears their throat, and Stiles pulls back sheepishly. It's strangely good to be scolded on his PDA with his boyfriend. Actually it's good to not be just the two of them anymore.

“Want to share with the class?” Stiles' dad asks, and he turns to look at Derek.

Derek takes a deep breath in, and looks straight at Talia. “25 January, 2005. Kate Argent and her goons line the house with mountain ash and trap eleven members of the Hale Pack inside, burning them alive.” His jaw works painfully as he continues, words filled the pain that never really went away, only to be filled with more pain than a person should endure. “But I am guessing that didn't happen here. Somehow Stiles—” he looks defiantly at the Stilinski's, “—Mieczyslaw managed to find his way to me and fought her. Didn't they? And she killed them.”

“And I killed her,” Peter tells them. Stiles isn't really surprised.

“And it all happened today, on January 25, twelve years ago,” Stiles states. It's not a question. And with the way everyone in the room stiffens, it's true.

“Are you sure she's dead?” Derek asks then, and Stiles kisses his knuckles when the 'wolf's hands trembles in Stiles' hold.

Peter's eyes flash. They're golden. “I burned her with the same match she was going to kill my pack with.”

“Good.” Stiles tells him.

He and Derek are never going to be okay again. They might have found a world where none of their loved ones—their pack—die, but that doesn't erase their past. The scars are there, etched on every atom of their being, and they won't ever leave. They will fade, maybe, one day. And there might be bonds in his heart connecting him to everyone—Derek, his parents, the Hale Pack. Even Scott, Malia. Melissa, Lydia, Jackson, Ethan, Jordan, Allison, Kira, Liam, Mason and Theo—even if he has no idea where any of them are.

Stiles just knows he has his bonds, however fragile, connecting him to everyone, and Derek has his. It's clear in the way Derek's posture is just a little more relaxed—a little more tall, like he's purging the negative feelings from himself—like Stiles supposes he is too.

Crossing over to another world simply with the will of his magic might not be what Stiles had imagined he'd find that night when he urged Scott to find the dead body with him—Laura's body—but Stiles can't do anything to change that.

And something tells him this was always supposed to be how it all played out.

Him and Derek, losing everyone that ever meant something to them, only to jump to another world where every person they loved lost them.

Proving themselves they're who they say—and then being smushed in a hug that's as stifling as it's freeing.

Stiles won't say he'd rather have changed what happened, even if he wants to. Magic is its own entity, another form of nature that's manifested itself over eons, and if magic has brought them here—and it has—then Stiles, or Derek, or anyone, none of them have any say in what will happen.

They can only hope this was their last trial.

#pridewrite2021 #pw alt7 #pw alt8 #f: teen wolf #m: fanfic #r: Mature #c: stiles stilinski #I: Bisexual #c: derek hale #I: Demisexual #spark stiles stilinski #beta derek hale #MCD #alternate universe - canon divergence #everyone dies #dimension travel #everyone lives #my fic #whenwordsmakesense

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voidwaren · 3 years

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so it’s been an entirely unintentional five months since I last updated my Sterek fic, Oak and Mistletoe, but the starting scene for chapter six has been finished since I published chapter five and I figured I should at least put that bit up even if the following scene is being a monster to finish. (she real thicc and she’s only getting thiccer, because I don’t know how to shut up and let a scene end.)

anyway, if anyone happens to pop by here looking for what tf happened to that WIP, here’s the first scene of Oak and Mistletoe, chapter six, just for you:

He showed up three days later, arrogant as always, disdain for everyone in the general vicinity written all across his features, and completely alone.

London had done nothing for Jackson’s shitty attitude towards anything either not earning his approval or not worshipping the ground he walked on, and Stiles had found this out the hard way by barging into the loft on the day they were all scheduled to meet and figure out what the hell was going to happen, only to find Jackson borderline posing in front of the giant windows and left utterly to his own devices, which spelled nothing but trouble for Stiles and his big mouth.

“You’re still alive?” was Jackson’s chosen greeting upon noticing Stiles as he stumbled over the threshold of the door and into the room, spoken in such a way that the fact Stiles was still kicking was clearly something he considered to be a great dismay to his own livelihood. Apparently, Deaton had been very minimalistic with his reasoning to get Jackson back in America if he didn’t know Stiles was even alive anymore.

Or Jackson just being a dick. Which, honestly, would be very on-brand for Jackson anyway. He didn’t trek all the way back to America because he missed them, that much was certain.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” Stiles countered drily, dusting himself off like he could brush away the fumble.

“It’s what you’re best at,” Jackson returned, sighing halfway through the sentence, with the most blithe tone Stiles was pretty sure he’d ever heard Jackson use. He turned his head slightly, like he was dismissing Stiles’ presence altogether, and it took a beat for Stiles to realize it was actually because Derek was coming down the stairs, and Jackson had heard him far before Stiles had and just hadn’t said anything. Stupid werewolves.

His back straightened slightly as soon as Derek was fully in the room, like, despite the fact Derek was not his alpha, Derek’s presence demanded the minute attention. Maybe it had something to do with their former relationship. Stiles didn’t care enough about Jackson to wonder much beyond that, though, so he didn’t.

Instead, he lifted a finger and, with the utmost of maturity, pointed accusingly at Jackson. “Douchebag McGee over here doesn’t know why we called him home. Also,” he tacked on quickly, flipping the pointer finger into a middle one without changing the subject of who he was directing the gesture at, “he wants me dead.”

Derek, only just barely having made it over to them by the time Stiles had stopped talking, crossed his arms and turned to Jackson. Before he could say anything, though, Jackson said, “I’m here because you went and got cursed, Stilinski.”

Stiles threw his arms wide in a “what the fuck” gesture. “What? Then why were you acting surprised that I’m alive?”

“Surprised?” Jackson scoffed. “That was disappointment and you know it. I had just hoped it had killed you before I got here.”

The noise of offense Stiles made in return would have done a valley girl proud. In the very least, it made Derek give him one of those half-alarmed looks that he outright ignored as he said, “Is that why it took you so damn long to call us back?”

“No,” Jackson corrected, rolling his eyes. “I had to locate the person you were looking for before I flew over. And, do you have any idea how long flights are from Britain to America? California, America?”

Stiles stared at him, his mouth slightly agape. Derek, who had been turning his attention back and forth between the two of them as they talked, continued to watch in silence.

“Wait,” Stiles said after he’d had a moment to process that. “Wait, wait, wait. You already knew who we were looking for?”

Jackson gave Derek a look. “Did you knock his head against a wall one too many times?” he asked, outright Stiles from the conversation. “I don’t remember him being this stupid.”

“No,” Derek offered. “That’s just his age catching up with him.”

“Then where is she, Jackson?” Stiles cut in through gritted teeth, one arm flying up between them like it could do anything to stop them from talking to one another like he wasn’t there.

Jackson sighed. “Do you really think she’d get here faster than me? I know you’ve seen a map before. Guess which country is closest to America in Europe. Go on,” he urged sarcastically, waving his hand in a pseudo-encouraging gesture, “guess.”

Stiles opened his mouth to tell Jackson just where exactly he’d be shoving that hand if Jackson didn’t stop taunting him, only to be thwarted by the loud arrival of Scott, Isaac, and Erica as they burst into the room, arguing profusely about something Stiles couldn’t discern as they overlapped each other without allowing any one sentence to be finished.

“Oh, good,” Jackson said with no small amount of sarcasm as Boyd quietly strode into the room a beat later, smirking at the cacophony the others were making, “everyone’s still alive, then?”

“Nice to see someone’s still a pompous asshat,” Erica greeted, halfway through whatever she’d been saying to Isaac and Scott, leaving both of them visibly blindsided.

Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but was overlapped by Scott when he looked around and said, “Wait. Where is everyone else?”

“Who are we missing?” a voice said from the door, and in strolled Lydia with Allison by her side. Allison raised her hand in a silent greeting, smiling at what was probably only Scott. “Hello, Jackson,” Lydia continued stiffly as her eyes locked onto him and her expression immediately flatlined into the same person she used to be before Allison arrived and cracked her shell.

“Lydia, Allison,” Jackson returned, clipped, but with an underlying vein of something Stiles most definitely wished he couldn’t detect. Unresolved feelings? Hell no. Stiles would sit that one out, thanks. Jackson pursed his lips for a moment as everyone in the room exchanged looks, counting out who might still be left before they got started retconning Jackson’s arrival and involvement, and then turned to Derek and said, “Where’s that creepy uncle of yours?”

“Definitely didn’t miss you,” the creepy uncle in question said as he plodded down the staircase like Jackson had summoned him. If Jackson had also heard him coming and was pretending he hadn’t, he didn’t look like it. If anything, he looked more than slightly put off that Peter was indeed accounted for. “Cora’s at work,” Peter continued as he joined the weird conglomeration they were creating in the main room of the loft, “so that should be everyone accounted for.”

“Who the hell is Cora?” Jackson asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” Derek said at the same time Scott said, “Derek’s little sister.”

“There are more of you alive?” Jackson said in legitimate surprise as Derek leveled Scott with a glare.

“Save it for later,” Derek ground out, clearly already aggravated by all the people in the room. “We have a matter at hand here, and Cora’s not necessary at the moment. We have to lay out the game plan while we have the time to and discuss what information Jackson got for us.”

“Wait,” Scott cut in, just as Jackson was opening his mouth. He shut it again with a click even Stiles heard, but Scott paid him no mind as he continued, “Where’s Deaton? Shouldn’t he be here?”

“He’s waiting for Morgan to show up, isn’t he?” Isaac said, but he sounded unsure of the fact.

“He is,” Derek confirmed, nodding his head at Isaac. Isaac nodded his head back, then made a face like he was just realizing that was a stupid move. Stiles did him the favor of not offering scathing commentary, just that once, and only because he was in the process of opening his mouth for another sentence.

“Shouldn’t we, I don’t know,” was the start of said sentence, spoken in a way that he hoped clearly articulated how he thought the fact they weren’t with Deaton was extremely useless, since they’d just have to rehash everything for the man who was basically in charge of them all, “wait for him? I thought we were meeting to discuss Morgan with Jackson.”

“We are,” Derek said, again in confirmation, because, apparently, that’s all he was good for right now. And then, as if sensing Stiles’ internal snark, he continued, “We don’t need Deaton for that.”

“We might need Deaton for that,” corrected Peter, and Derek just gave him a look. “What? The spaz has a point. Deaton’s taking the mantle of liaison from our lizard boy, he should probably be here if we’re talking about the very thing he’s going to be liaison of.”

Stiles fought a grimace. He never much enjoyed being on the same side as Peter, especially when it was the side with less support overall. He didn’t miss the way Jackson threw Peter a very pointed glare, clearly not happy with the nickname he’d been bestowed, though the fact Scott was standing between them dampened the effect just a little. Scott didn’t seem to be aware of his intrusion, and Peter ignored Jackson all the same.

“Jackson can relay his information to Deaton later,” Derek said.

Peter made a noise of annoyance and flung a hand in Jackson’s direction. “I’m sorry, we’re trusting that guy to handle something that could possibly wipe us off the map with one wrong move?”

“That guy?” Jackson repeated, affronted. He reached out and grabbed Scott’s shoulder, wrenching him out of the way, and Scott spluttered something incoherent as he stumbled into Isaac and nearly wiped out. “I don’t know if you noticed, old man, but I’m risking my skin just as much as you are. I’m the one who found her in the first place, and, let me tell you” —he barked a harsh laugh, and the sound was so very Jackson that Stiles almost had a moment of nostalgia before realizing just who exactly was inciting it— “that was neither fun nor easy, and I absolutely would not have done it if it was your ass on the line.”

“Charming,” Peter spat.

“You’re doing it because it’s my ass on the line?” Stiles asked, a little wistfully, as the meaning of Jackson’s ire hit him. “Aw, Jackson,” he cooed, just as Jackson’s expression darkened, “I didn’t know you cared!”

“I don’t,” Jackson hissed.

“Evidence points to otherwise,” Stiles said, one finger up and dangerously close to Jackson’s chest, like Jackson hadn’t literally greeted him with disappointment over the fact he was still alive and kicking not twenty minutes before.

Jackson just looked at him, his lips parted slightly like he was gearing up to say something and just wasn’t sure exactly what it was he wanted to say yet, but then turned to Lydia and said, “He really has gotten stupider. How is that possible?”

“Don’t bring me into this,” said Lydia, her tone leaving no room for argument.

“Maybe we should wait for Deaton,” Boyd chimed in, apparently deciding he no longer wanted to simply watch the garbage fire raging right in front of him. Very unusual for Boyd, actually, and Stiles wondered if that wasn’t a decent indicator of just how bad the quality of conversation was getting. “I don’t think this is getting anywhere fast.”

Derek shook his head, his arms now crossed tight along his chest like they did when he was getting frustrated. “We would have to wait for Morgan to arrive. He’s the one meeting her first to make sure she checks out.”

“Wait, she’s not even here yet?” Isaac asked loudly, peering around Scott, who was still pretty much being held up by him, to look at Jackson in confusion. “I thought she was coming with you. Didn’t you both come over from Europe?”

Jackson threw his hands up in exasperation. “Does no one understand how air travel works?”

Allison made a face, tilting her head in that way she did when something odd was occurring to her. “Morgan le Fay, the great sorceress of legend, is flying in a plane to get here?”

That seemed to stump them all, because the whole room abruptly went quiet. Even Jackson, who had suggested the idea in the first place, seemed to suddenly realize how ridiculous that idea was.

“Well,” Isaac said, breaking the silence first, “how else would she get here?”

“Teleportation?” offered Scott.

“I don’t think that’s a real thing,” Derek countered.

“That has to be a real thing,” said Stiles immediately, shaking his head. “Maybe not across continents and oceans,” he amended quickly when Derek only gave him an exasperated look, “but too much weird shit has happened to us for there not to be some kind of teleportation in the world.”

Derek made a gesture with his head to indicate Stiles had a point, but it was overshadowed suddenly by the sharp alert of a cell phone. Derek fished it out of his pocket and tapped on the screen, already frowning. Peter took the chance to be, well, Peter.

“One wrong move, lizard boy,” started Peter the second Jackson was within his line of sight, his hand already held out in as accusing of a gesture as possible, “and I will not hesitate to off you and make up for all that lost time. I don’t care if you technically died the last time we saw you.”

“Peter,” Derek warned without looking up from his phone, but Peter held up a hand.

“We’re not negotiating this one, Derek,” he retorted. Then, before Derek could continue, Peter dropped the hand and turned his attention back onto Jackson. “How about you get us our magic lady as promised and then shut up until further notice?” Peter nodded his head once, not waiting for an answer. “Yes. I like that deal. End of discussion, I think.”

Jackson’s face took on an expression that explicitly conveyed an attitude of “not today, bitch” as he tilted his nose up, eyeing Peter scathingly, and said, like everything that had just came out of Peter’s mouth was nothing more than noise on the wind, “I don’t think so. I think I’m calling the shots here, and you know what I say?” In true Peter fashion, Jackson didn’t even wait a beat for anything resembling an attempt at an answer before he continued, “I say your existence is intruding on mine. I’m going to need you to fuck off.”

Surprisingly, Peter barked a laugh. “Oh, I’m using that one. Kid’s got good lines,” he said, apparently to Derek specifically, jabbing a thumb at Jackson. Behind him, Jackson narrowed his eyes dangerously at the back of Peter’s head.

“Alright,” Erica said cautiously, “let’s not poke the bear before we have a chance to get things straight with the sorceress who could easily obliterate us if we don’t get our act together, yeah? Something tells me she won’t appreciate playing counselor to us, and I’d like to live to see my college years.”

“He started it,” Jackson accused at the exact same time Peter did, before they each turned to glare at the other.

“Are we all going to die?” Isaac asked.

“Possibly,” Boyd replied, utterly nonchalant.

“Hey,” Stiles barked, throwing his hands out like he was breaking up a wrestling match. “I’m the one gagging up florals. I’m the one in immediate peril here, okay? Stop trying to encroach on my thunder here.”

“That’s not how the saying goes, Stiles,” Lydia muttered in exasperation.

“Florals?” Jackson repeated, the previous grievance with Peter suddenly pushed aside in favor of what was apparently new information. Jackson frowned at Stiles, clearly confused. “You’re cursed with flowers? What?”

“He’s throwing them up, actually,” Isaac offered helpfully. It didn’t make Jackson look any less confused, but it did give him the added benefit of also looking disgusted. Stiles, for once, couldn’t really blame him for that one.

“What kind of curse is that?” asked Jackson.

“A stupid one,” said Boyd.

“Clearly. Of all the things to be cursed with, you had to go for flowers, Stilinski?”

“You’re acting like I asked for it,” Stiles retaliated. “Do you really think I walked up to the witch and went, ‘Hey, ma’am, you know what I could really use right now? A good stabbing and a curse that makes me choke up flowers without any semblance of rhyme or reason to it, and I think you’re just the lady to do it to me.’ No, Jackson, I didn’t!”

Jackson turned his attention onto Lydia again. “Stabbing?”

Lydia nodded. “With a necklace.”

Closing his eyes like he was in pain, Jackson pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m suddenly remembering why I was thrilled to get away from Beacon Hills and all of you. A necklace?”

Instead of offering anything more by ways of verbal information, Stiles sighed, held up a hand to tell Jackson to wait, and dug the necklace out of his pocket. He’d been tasked with keeping an eye on it back when they’d realized nothing beyond the name was any help, and had unceremoniously shoved it in the pocket of his jeans without a second thought, meaning to look into the lore behind the flower of choice at a later date and never actually getting around to it. Honestly, it was pure luck he wore that same pair that day, because he’d kind of forgotten all about it up until he was already halfway to Derek’s place and realized, maybe, Morgan might want her necklace back. Jackson watched warily as the pendant unfurled from Stiles’ fist with a quiet tinkling rattle of metal chains snagging on metal petals.

Stiles held the pendant out at arms length in Jackson’s direction. It swung with the motion, reflecting back the dying light of the day behind them, and everyone seemed to take a half step back. Jackson tilted his head, looking almost, strangely, pleased at the sight of the flower-shaped bauble.

Weird.

“Are you checking yourself out in the reflection or something?” Stiles accused, making no effort to disguise his disgust at the idea.

Jackson scoffed. “You wish. That’d be the only time you’d ever have anything remotely appealing about you.”

Stiles took a step back, his mouth dropping open in shocked offense, and next to him Scott barked a half-restrained laugh that he clearly hadn’t meant to let out. Allison smacked him on the shoulder, but the damage was done. Stiles rounded on Scott, who only gave him a sheepish smile and a very guilty shrug.

In the background, Erica sighed dramatically. “One day I’ll have someone who looks at me like Jackson looks at himself.”

“Looks like you gotta step up that game, Boyd,” Isaac said as Jackson pivoted and leveled Erica with a glare that did absolutely nothing to wipe the smarmy smirk off her face. Beside her, Boyd just rolled his eyes.

“No one in the world looks at anyone else like Jackson looks at himself. You’re setting me up for failure.”

“You’re right,” Erica agreed, sounding distinctly disappointed. “There needs to be an ego of unparalleled proportions attached to something like that, and Jackson already lays claim to the title.” She crossed her arms and shook her head sadly. “Maybe in another life.”

Jackson cocked his head and scrutinized Erica in that ruthless way he had. “Try a little harder at being a bitch, would you?” he said silkily. “You’re not quite meeting my standards.”

“No one meets your standards, sweetie,” Lydia chimed in, pating Jackson on the back in such an obviously demeaning way that Jackson had no choice but to glower silently in her direction as she moved the conversation along.

With one deft movement, Lydia snagged the pendant out of Stiles’ hand and moved behind him. Stiles barely had time to react before he realized what she was doing, and then the deed was done.

“Lydia,” he croaked, hand flying up to the pendant that now sat snug just below the dip of his collarbones. It felt strangely hot, even through the layer of shirt between it and his skin. “Take me out to dinner first, jeez.”

“You shouldn’t be keeping something that important in your pocket,” was all she replied, making her way back to Allison’s side.

“This meeting is becoming increasingly pointless,” said Peter. He gave Derek a pointed look, his arms crossing across his chest in disdain. “Why do our meetings always end up pointless? Aren’t we here to talk tactics and not waste time giving out the information we’re only going to have to repeat once the witch is here? You’re wasting my precious time here, and I don’t appreciate it.”

“Sorceress,” Lydia corrected, just as Derek’s phone started to ring. Shooting Peter a quick glance, Derek swiftly answered the call and made his way to the edges of the room, like everyone around him hadn’t immediately gone deathly silent at the sudden attempt at communication. They all watched him go, not a word spoken between them, Derek muttering something into the device that was too low for his ears but was likely easily picked up by all the werewolves in the general vicinity, judging by the way every single one of them suddenly had their head slightly cocked.

“I hate you guys,” Stiles hissed. “Just in case anyone managed to forget,” he continued when Scott gave him a confused look. It didn’t lessen the confusion, but it made Stiles feel marginally better.

“Who’s he talking to?” Allison whispered, lilting her head towards Scott.

Scott opened his mouth to likely give the answer she wanted, but Peter cut him off with a sharp growl of a tone as he said, “Why don’t you just ask him?”

Somehow, that seemed to get Derek’s attention, because he looked up sharply the moment the words left Peter’s mouth, the phone still pressed firmly to his ear, and he looked so much like his old self in that moment that Stiles almost did a double-take.

“What?” Stiles asked warily when no one else bothered to open their mouths and ask first.

“It’s Deaton,” said Derek solemnly, almost gravely, and Stiles felt his heart drop to his toes when Derek looked directly at him and said, “Morgan is here.”

“Great,” Peter spat, jerking his head in a viscous eye-roll that was nearly a full-bodied motion, and then he turned and strode from the room. For once, Stiles kind of wished he could do exactly the same.

#teen wolf #Sterek #the hanahaki wip #WIP Wednesday #work in progress wednesday #I'd link the fic but Tumblr goes feral on linked posts half of the time

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stereksecretsanta · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas, nostalgiafan123!

For @nostalgiafan123. I didn't get any angst in, but hopefully there's enough pack interaction and powerful Stiles for you to enjoy!

For those keeping notes, this takes place a few years after an alternate 3A where everybody lives, Scott does not become an alpha, and Stiles comes into some magical powers. Scott also conveniently went to school on the east coast with Allison, while we're pretending there is a Beacon Hills University with a prestigious enough math program to keep Lydia around.

Read On AO3

*****

About to Explode

Derek was flung back and there was an ugly snapping sound as he hit the ground hard with a leg twisted unnaturally underneath himself. Derek yelled and Stiles ran to his side, heart in his throat as he put his hands on Derek, the betas closing in a protective circle around them.

"Derek, are you okay?" Stiles said frantically, hands fluttering over Derek's shoulders. Derek groaned and Stiles continued, "okay, dumb question, there's no way you're okay after what I just saw and heard. But are you healing?"

Derek sat up and straightened out his leg with a grunt of effort. He was breathing hard through gritted teeth, a sheen of sweat over paler-than-usual skin. "Working on it." Derek's voice was thin with pain, and he grabbed handfuls of leaf-litter and dirt in white-knuckled fists as he hunched in on himself.

"Shit, shit shit shit shit," Stiles chanted, looking around at the rest of the pack. They were holding their own for now, but they were quickly loosing ground -- one of Isaac's arms was dangling uselessly and Erica had a huge gash near the base of her throat that was bleeding a waterfall down her front. They needed breathing room to heal. Stiles took a deep breath and closed his eyes, feeling for the candle of magic in his core, fed by the bonds to his pack mates. He got a good mental grip on it while he got a good physical grip on Derek's shoulders, bare after Derek's shirt became one of the first casualties of the night.

Stiles shoved outward with his magic, shouting the words to a shielding spell. Magic exploded through him like he had never felt before, leaving him breathless and weak in the knees. Derek whimpered and toppled to the side, bringing Stiles collapsing down on top of him.

"What the fuck was that," Erica panted.

Stiles pried his eyes open and tried to blink away sunspots that clouded his vision. "You've seen me do a shield before," Stiles slurred as he tried to untangle himself from Derek. His ears were ringing like crazy, but he didn't hear any of the chittering sounds the creatures made anymore -- maybe they'd already cleared out.

"We've seen you do a shield before," Boyd said, "and that was nothing like what you just did."

Stiles finally managed to sit up and look around. There was a starburst of cleared earth shooting out from Derek and Stiles, and a few freshly fallen tree limbs farther away.

"I'm pretty sure there was lighting coming out of the ground up to you," Isaac said, "and you blew those little gremlins out of my hearing range." He grimaced as he pulled his arm out in front of himself and popped his shoulder back into place.

"Lightning?" Stiles shook his head. "We're not on a ley line, and I wasn't pulling from the ground, anyways, that makes no sense."

"Well that's what I saw, whether it makes sense to you or not." Isaac rolled his eyes.

Boyd knelt down next to Derek, who was still curled up on the ground. "Are you okay?"

"Tired." Derek said. "You sure that lightning wasn't coming from me?"

Isaac scrunched up his face. "Could have been, I guess."

"Sure feels like someone scraped all the energy out of me." Derek flopped over onto his back to look at Stiles. "I think you healed my leg at the same time, though."

"What? How?" Stiles rubbed his hands over his head in frustration. "I guess it's possible that I tapped too much into Derek and overdid the shield, but that should not have healed anything." Stiles set his hand over Derek's heart and closed his eyes, focusing on the packbonds until he could envision them: the betas were gold, Boyd's bright and strong, Isaac's and Erica's more dim but growing brighter as they healed, Scott's a shadowy suggestion from thousands of miles away. Derek's was faint, and a much darker red then it usually was. "Fuck." Stiles let his magical vision slip away and opened his eyes to reality again. "I don't know what I did wrong, but Derek's right, all that energy came from him and he's got almost nothing left."

"That's a lot of power you've got packed away in there," Isaac said, admiring.

"I still don't get how that healed your leg, though," Stiles frowned.

"If you unleashed all of his magic, maybe it decided to help himself on the way out," Erica suggested, plopping down to sit next to Derek and Boyd. The gash on her throat had mostly closed up, Stiles was pleased to note.

"Well, I'm sorry I did it, however it happened." Stiles moved his hand off of Derek's chest.

"I'm not," Derek sighed, "we were in a bad way."

"Of course you're not," Boyd rolled his eyes. "Ever the martyr."

"I'm also happy to be done with a broken femur without any fuss. Those take hours to heal, you know."

Isaac shuddered, knowing from experience how painful that was.

"Oh no, hours to heal a bone," Stiles laughed. "Hey Derek, can you still shift even when you're magically tapped out?"

Derek lifted a hand and put out claws, seemingly without any effort.

"Can you go all the way?"

Derek rolled his shoulders and twisted into his other shape.

"That seems weird. Seems like you should need magic to shapeshift, but what do I know."

"It's not like it's effort to shift," Derek said.

The betas all made various disagreeing noises. Stiles laughed. "Looks like you're alone in that opinion."

Derek shrugged and smirked, features fading back to human. "Perks of being a born werewolf, I guess."

"Always so insufferable about that." Erica shoved at Derek's thigh.

"You feeling well enough to walk?" Boyd asked Derek. "We need to track down where those gremlins have got off to before they do any more damage."

"Walk, maybe." Derek shoved himself up to his elbows with a groan. "Not sure if I could do any fighting now."

"They were blown off in all directions, they'll probably be wanting to find each other first before they go off to cause more mayhem," Erica said.

"Erica's right, they'll get their pack back together first." Stiles rubbed at the back of his neck. "It does make this a good opportunity to go after them, though, they're already split up."

Derek growled.

"I know, big guy, you hate being out of the action, but it's probably best if you go home and sleep off the magical exhaustion. The rest of us can stay out here and do some tracking to at least thin the heard."

"Come on," Boyd clapped a hand to Derek's shoulder, "I'll get you home and then I'll come back out to join the others."

"I don't like it," Derek said.

"Didn't think you would. But do you agree to it?"

Derek huffed and pushed himself to sit up all the way, only to drop his head and squeeze his eyes shut. "Fine," he snarled.

"There we go, alpha's very begrudging blessing." Stiles slapping his thighs and stood up. "Erica, Isaac, you both healed enough to go hunting?"

"Need a snack after all that blood loss and I'm absolutely disgustingly covered in blood, but fine other than that," Erica said.

Isaac rolled his shoulders to test out the injured joint. "Yeah, I'm back to normal."

"You need me to carry you?" Boyd asked Derek.

"Just help me stand up," Derek frowned.

Boyd hummed, a disbelieving look on his face, but he grabbed Derek's arms and hauled him to his feet.

Derek stumbled and would have immediately fallen if not for Boyd's steady hands. "Okay, maybe you have to carry me." Derek's voice was strained and even softer than usual.

Boyd scooped Derek up effortlessly. "I should be back in half an hour or so, maybe a little longer," Boyd said to the others. "Got to make sure he's fed and watered before he conks out."

"I'm still right here," Derek muttered into Boyd's shoulder, "and I'm fully capable of feeding myself."

"Yeah, not when you're exhausted you're not." Boyd rolled his eyes.

"Okay, we'll see you soon, Boyd." Erica stood on her tiptoes and pecked a kiss to Boyd's cheek, then ruffled Derek's hair. "You feel better."

Derek swiped at her half-heartedly before Boyd turned and headed back towards where they had abandoned their cars.

Erica picked up Isaac's backpack from where he had dropped it when the fight started. She tossed a water bottle to Isaac and tore open a granola bar for herself. "Need anything, Stiles?"

"I'll take some water."

Erica passed him a bottle and scarfed down two more granola bars in short order. "Alright, I'm ready."

Stiles passed the bottle back to Erica, who gulped down the rest and dropped the empty in the bag before handing it to Isaac.

"The little nasties went literally every which way, so pick your direction." Isaac zipped up the bag and slung it on his back, looking expectantly at Stiles.

"I'd head towards town," Erica said. "More potential damage they could do, and it'll be easier to pick 'em off out of the thickest parts of the woods."

"Agreed," Stiles said, "towards town sounds good to me. Just keep an ear out for humans."

Isaac rolled his eyes. "We know the drill, Stiles."

The three of them set off, Stiles trusting Erica's sense of direction to keep them on the right line. "I'm gonna call Lydia and let her know we're still alive." Stiles pulled out his phone and dialled.

"Things going okay?" Lydia asked as she picked up.

"Okay overall, not as good as we hoped. I did some kind of magical overkill trying to make a shield, blew all the beasties who knows where, and siphoned off all of Derek's magical reserves, so we had to tap him out. Boyd's taking him home, Erica and Isaac and I are trying to find a few of the horrors to kill before they can pack up again."

"Stiles, I swear to god. I thought we were done trying magical experiments in life-threatening situations?"

"I wasn't trying to experiment!" Stiles waved his free arm for emphasis that was lost on Lydia through the phone. "I was trying to make a nice, normal shield, I have no idea what went wrong. Isaac says there was lighting coming from Derek, or maybe the ground even though we're not that close to a ley line."

"Lightning?" Lydia sighed. "That's definitely not normal."

"It sounds badass," Stiles grinned. "Derek was hurt and I was touching him, so I figure that had something to do with it, got too emotional or something."

"I'll go keep Derek company and see if I can tell if anything's out of the ordinary." Keys jingled in the background of the call.

"Okay, thanks. I better hang up so my hunting dogs have all their senses sharp." Stiles grinned at the twin glares focused on him for that comment.

"Stay safe." Lydia hung up.

===

Boyd tracked the other three down before they found any trace of the monsters they were tracking. After another hour of fruitless searching they called it a night and headed back towards Derek's house. Erica let them in with her key and they found Lydia writing equations at the kitchen table while Derek slept on the couch in a cocoon of blankets.

"Find any of them?" Lydia sat up and pulled off her glasses.

"No luck," Boyd huffed as he opened the fridge and started pulling out sandwich materials.

"We didn't find a single trace of them." Erica frowned and sat down at the table across from Lydia. "It's like Stiles banished them from the whole territory."

Lydia turned sharp eyes on Stiles.

"That doesn't seem very likely," Stiles said defensively. "We were probably just looking in the wrong spot."

"We covered a pretty big swath," Boyd said.

"Waste of an evening," Isaac complained. "I dislocated my shoulder and we didn't even kill any of them."

Lydia hummed, still staring at Stiles. "Stiles, what happened when you cast your malfunctioning shield?"

"It wasn't malfunctioning!" Stiles threw his arms out. "I was too good was the problem."

Lydia waved a hand like she was shooing a mosquito. "I don't care about that. What did it feel like to you? How did you do it?"

Stiles shrugged. "Same way I do it every time. Center myself on my magic, envision the flame of it, then push it out into a shield with the spell."

Lydia stared at him expectantly for a moment before prompting, "And then what?"

"And then my magic exploded like a literal bomb, I fell over, and it took a minute for my vision to clear and my ears to stop ringing."

"Don't forget the lightning," Isaac put in helpfully.

Lydia tapped her lip with her pencil for a moment before pointing the pencil at Isaac. "You said the lightning was coming from Derek or the ground, right?"

"Pretty sure it was the ground, but Derek said it must have been coming from him. They were right on top of each other and I was a little preoccupied with fighting for my life, so." Isaac shrugged.

Lydia pursed her lips. "I've read about emissaries connecting to the magic of the land through an alpha before, that's not so far fetched."

"Lydia, that takes a bunch of very specific rituals, you can't do it by accident," Stiles said.

"Supposedly," Lydia shrugged. "You're an unusual emissary, and Derek's a born werewolf for several generations back on the same territory. Norms won't necessarily apply."

"Yeah, except how werewolves aren't natural magic conduits; that's the whole point of needing the rituals."

"Maybe full-shift werewolves are," Lydia raised an eyebrow. "The Hales are an unusual bunch; we don't know much about how the full shift affects werewolves since it's such a rare trait."

Stiles groaned and rolled his neck. "Fine, you're right, as usual. I just wish I knew how it happened -- I'm pretty sure I've done magic while touching Derek before."

"Maybe Derek was never actually touching the ground before," Boyd said between bites of his sandwich.

Isaac snorted. "Is he usually levitating?"

Erica slapped Isaac in the chest. "He's normally wearing shoes, dumbass. Boyd's got a point, Derek had his hands on the ground and Stiles had his hands on Derek's bare skin, so there was a direct line."

Isaac rubbed his chest and pouted.

"You're sure saying my name a lot in here," Derek grumbled. Everyone turned to look at him where he was leaning against the doorway wrapped in a blanket, his scowl ruined by his sleep-rumpled hair and heavy eyelids.

"Derek, how are you feeling by now?" Stiles rushed over to him.

"Fine." Derek pulled his blanket a little closer. "Just cold and tired."

"So we're back to the normal healing cool down period?"

Derek shrugged and stifled a yawn. "Seems like it."

"Good. Can I just check?" Stiles held out his hand towards Derek.

Derek nodded and Stiles shut his eyes and slipped into his magical vision again. Lydia's pack bond had joined the display this time, a thin purple thread that only showed up when she was close by. Derek's bond was still dim, but the color had bounced back to the normal fiery red and it was glowing softly.

Stiles opened his eyes with a smile. "Yeah, you're definitely on the mend. Come on, sit down. We were just talking about why my magic acted the way it did."

Derek brushed past Stiles and dropped heavily into one of the kitchen chairs.

"You hungry, Derek?" Boyd asked as he popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth.

"Yeah, I guess so." Derek rubbed at his eyes.

Stiles slipped behind Boyd to grab two glasses of water, one for himself and one he set in front of Derek. Derek nodded his thanks and downed the glass in a few swallows.

"Did you take care of any of the little bastards?" Derek asked.

"Didn't see hide nor hair of any one of 'em," Isaac said.

"Pity. But maybe Stiles shot them far enough away they'll regroup elsewhere." Derek leaned heavily on the table.

"We're interrupting your rest, do you need to go back to sleep?" Stiles squeezed Derek's shoulder.

"I'm fine. Need to eat something."

"And here you are." Boyd set a sandwich down at Derek's elbow and retreated to sit next to Erica.

Derek nodded his thanks and took a big bite.

Stiles dragged up another chair and sat next to Derek, watching him slowly chew his way through the sandwich.

"He's fine, Stiles," Lydia said. "You checked him yourself, I checked him when I got here, it's a normal bit of magical exhaustion, nothing to work yourself up over."

Stiles huffed, but he leaned back in his chair and stopped watching Derek so intently.

"I'm dealing with some plain old physical exhaustion," Erica yawned. "Some of us have been up since five."

"Yeah, lets everyone go to bed. We can try looking for any more signs of them tomorrow. Isaac's the only one working tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, evening shift," Isaac said.

"I need a few hours to work on a paper," Boyd put in.

"God, me too," Stiles rubbed a hand over his face. "Let's try and meet in the morning, then, around..." Stiles glanced at his watch and winced at the time. "Around nine? And try to finish up by noon or one. Sound good?"

Everyone agreed and the betas all stood to leave, patting Derek's shoulder or ruffling his hair as they filed out of the kitchen. Derek really must have been exhausted since he didn't bother pretending to be offended by the affectionate touches.

"You need anything else before I go?" Stiles asked Derek while Lydia packed up her work.

"No," Derek shook his head. "Just need to get some more water and head to bed."

"Well I can help you with some of that at least." Stiles fetched the Brita pitcher from the fridge and filled Derek's glass, leaving the pitcher next to him. "Nothing else, you're sure?"

"I'm fine, I promise." Derek rolled his eyes.

"If you insist." Stiles squeezed Derek's shoulder one more time. "I'll be back before any of us wants to be, anyways."

Derek snorted and stood with a groan, taking the water pitcher with him as he shuffled off towards his bedroom.

"Alright, let's get out of here," Lydia grabbed Stiles' arm and towed him to the door, making sure to lock up behind themselves. "Once he's fully recovered we ought to do an experiment, see if we can reproduce the incident by making Derek a conduit again."

"Lydia," Stiles frowned, "I'm not doing that to him again on purpose." Stiles pointed back towards Derek's door as they walked away.

"Then don't do that again," Lydia said primly. "Focus more and see if you can tap into anything else beyond Derek before trying to perform a spell. We'll do it under controlled circumstances, it'll be fine." They reached Lydia's car first, and she stopped Stiles from walking away with a sharp tug on his sleeve. "Try and do some reading about those rituals, too. They could have some useful advice for how not to rip all the magic out of your alpha while connecting to the land."

Stiles grumbled under his breath, but he nodded. Lydia was right that they should try again, if he could reliably do magic like that the pack would have a lot fewer headaches to try and squeeze in between schoolwork and jobs. Unfortunately that probably meant he'd have to go borrow some books from Deaton this week.

===

Stiles saw Deaton a lot sooner than he intended; the man showed up at Derek's the next morning while the pack was getting ready to leave from Derek's and patrol the woods.

Derek answered the door, standing firmly in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Derek," Deaton said, smiling pleasantly, "good morning, can I come in?"

"What are you here for?" Derek growled. He was looking a lot better than the night before, but he was still grouchy and clearly not at his best.

"I noticed that the old wards activated last night, and I hoped you might know what caused that."

Derek went stiff, shoulders rolling a bit like he was about to shift.

"If you don't," Deaton went on, "then we might have a bigger problem on our hands than the shadow brocken in the woods."

"Wait, you know what those things are called?" Stiles asked over Derek's shoulder.

Derek growled quietly, but he stepped back and ushered Deaton into the house.

"Shadow brocken? Is that what you said? I've never heard of them."

"They're very rare; usually keep to the mountains. But like I said, that's not the most concerning thing out there right now."

"Right, the wards." Stiles wilted a little. He figured the wards had activated after years of fruitless attempts due to the maelstrom of magic he'd accidentally released last night, which Deaton was sure to be mad about.

"How do you know they've activated?" Boyd asked, zipping up their backpack with the emergency supplies.

"I felt a disturbance while I was meditating last night," Deaton said. Erica rolled her eyes expressively. "I went out to check one this morning and it seemed to be working to repel something. I visited two more that were doing the same thing before I came here."

Isaac sighed. "I guess that's why we couldn't find any of the shadow whatever last night. Waste of precious sleeping hours."

Deaton raised his eyebrows. "So you know what caused this?"

"So, I maybe had a little magical accident last night casting a shield spell and made more of a bomb spell instead," Stiles said. "Blew a bunch of shadow creatures we were fighting out of the hearing range of werewolves, and couldn't track any down after despite searching for a good couple of hours."

Daeton's eyebrows climbed farther up his forehead. "You turned a shielding spell into a bomb?"

"That's not the important part." Stiles waived a hand. "Maybe it was just a super aggressive shield, I don't know, no werewolves were thrown anywhere, but I did have more magic rip through me than I've ever felt before."

Deaton hummed, eyebrows settling back down. "Where were you when you cast the spell?"

"Not close enough to any leylines that I would have thought it mattered. Maybe five miles from the nemeton, about ten miles north of the new development on the east side, near those overgrown walking trails."

"I suppose that could have worked to activate them, a shield gone wildly off the rails. But the amount of pure magical energy you would have needed to make the spell reach that far are far beyond your normal capabilities."

"It definitely felt that way to me, believe me," Stiles shuddered, remembering how the magic burned as it surged through him.

"Most peculiar." Deaton rubbed at his jaw.

Lydia clapped her hands and broke the silence that was settling. "Change of plans for this morning, I think," she said brightly. "Let's see how many wards we can check before we have to get to our responsibilities. If Isaac is right and the wards really are keeping the creatures out then we'll only be wasting our time looking for them anyways."

"Sounds good to me." Erica jumped off the island counter where she had been sitting and grabbed Boyd's hand. "We ready?"

Derek looked around the room and nodded. "Thanks for coming by, Deaton," he said, walking towards the door and forcing Deaton to back up with him. "We'll look into the wards." He opened the door and ushered Daeton back out of the house.

Deaton went, but he was clearly less than happy about it. "We really need to look further into how Stiles was able to wield that much magic--"

"We're already doing that, I assure you." Derek smiled thinly.

"Very well. I'll continue to keep watch on the wards. Please let me know if you make any discoveries."

Derek nodded and turned to lock up.

"Thank for the heads up, Doc." Stiles raised a hand in farewell.

Deaton frowned faintly. "Be careful, Stiles. Wielding so much magic at once can be very dangerous."

"I will keep that in mind, if I'm ever able to do it again."

Derek grabbed Stiles' arm and towed him towards Erica's old Jeep, the only car they had that would fit all six of them thanks to the front bench seat and Lydia's small frame. They waited until they were a few blocks away before Isaac broke the silence.

"So the wards. If they're really active and functioning properly, that would be huge, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," Derek said, brows knitted in a frown, "my mom always said that without them we'd never be able to have a normal life."

"So we're saying that with the wards up we maybe wouldn't have to save the town every time we turn around?" Erica asked.

Derek shrugged. "Probably. The nemeton being active might change things, I don't know. But they're supposed to keep out anything that means us harm."

"But the nemeton hasn't been inactive for all that long, relatively speaking," Lydia said.

"You're right," Derek nodded. "It had been my whole life, but my mom never talked about having trouble with it when it was active, and she was in her twenties when it was cut down."

"It would be great if my biggest worry was just passing my classes," Boyd said.

"Don't get too excited," Derek grumbled. "The wards have to be sustained -- if Stiles can't replicate his magical accident it'll be a temporary break until the things run out of juice."

"Oh, thanks, Derek, so encouraging." Isaac rolled his eyes and turned to stare out the window.

"Don't get excited." Derek crossed his arms.

Lydia turned to give Stiles a significant look over the back of the seat. Stiles groaned. "I haven't even been able to find any books, let alone read them!"

"What are you talking about?" Boyd asked.

"Lydia wants me to try the thing again with Derek."

"What thing with me?" Derek growled.

"The, you know," Stiles waved his hands around aimlessly, "the magical explody thing."

Derek heaved a sigh and turned to look out the window. They were almost to a ward now. "Fine. I don't remember how often Mom went out with Deaton or whoever to recharge them, but I don't think it was more than once or twice a month. That's... manageable."

"Okay, I'm not sucking up all your magical energy once or twice a month, and you shouldn't agree to that, that's stupid and unnecessary!"

Derek bared his teeth and turned to look at Stiles. "Then what the hell are you--"

"We're here!" Erica yelled. "Please can we have the fight while we're not all trapped in the car with you?"

Derek snarled and shot out of the car. Stiles groaned and rolled his neck before following him.

Derek lead the way away from the dirt road. It only took about five minutes of hiking to reach the ward, an innocuous, stunted little tree with glyphs carved deep into the wood and three colourful rocks embedded in the bark on the east side, facing away from the town. Today, the rocks were glowing faintly, and the air was filled with a quiet hum.

"So that's definitely active, right?" Isaac said after they had all taken a moment just to stare.

"Yeah." Derek got closer and crouched down in front of the rocks, watching the tree intently. He raised a hand to gently stroke the bark and shivered as he touched it.

Lydia circled around to bend over Derek's shoulder. "How can we tell what it's doing?"

Derek shrugged.

Lydia sighed and straightened up. "I wish we could trust Deaton."

"Look!" Erica pointed out into the woods. "There's one of the shadow bracken or whatever!"

They all followed Erica's gaze to see one of the twisted creatures snarling at them from twenty yards beyond the ward. Derek growled and the creature chattered its sharp fangs while a second of its kind emerged to twine around it, faint rainbows scattering off their bodies where the sun came through the trees.

"Does that mean it is keeping them out?" Boyd asked as they watched a third creature waddle over to the other two on its hind legs. One of the creatures took a few steps toward them before it yelped and wheeled away, running back into the woods, the two others following.

Erica whooped in delight. "It does work!"

"Worth it," Derek muttered. Stiles turned to see him smiling faintly as he took in the grins on his betas' faces.

Stiles sighed and shook his head. "Stop it with the martyr attitude. We'll find a way to keep them up that doesn't abuse you."

Derek raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"I agree with Derek on that one," Boyd said. "How are you planning to do that when you've been trying for literal years to get these up with no results?"

"Great, thanks for that vote of confidence, Boyd, really helps," Stiles said.

"Why don't you try now?" Lydia said. "Just something small, we don't need an explosion today."

"What do you need me to do?" Derek asked immediately.

Stiles groaned. "I need you to cool it so I can do more reading."

"Shirt off," Lydia said, ignoring Stiles. "I don't know how much you overheard last night, but we're thinking its the direct skin-on-skin connection from Stiles to you to the ground."

Derek whipped off his shirt and sat on the ground, digging his fingers into the dirt underneath a layer of pine needles and dead leaves. He looked up at Stiles expectantly.

"No!" Stiles crossed his arms. "I'm not doing it until we've had the time to research it. And besides, the wards are clearly working and plenty juiced up! I'm not going to hurt Derek for no reason."

"Come on," Lydia shoved Stiles towards Derek. "No one's asking you to hurt him. Just put your hands on him and see if you can feel vast reserves of magic through him."

Stiles hesitantly reached out to touch Derek's shoulders, snatching his hands away when Derek flinched.

"Come back," Derek huffed a little laugh, "your fingers are freezing, that's all."

The betas tittered and Stiles scowled at them while he put his hands back on Derek's (very warm) shoulders. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, falling into his magical vision again. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but he was pleased to see Derek's thread once again restored to it's normal brilliance, a thick rope of power feeding into Stiles' flame. Stiles focused in only on Derek and flexed his fingers against Derek's shoulders while he envisioned grabbing Derek's bond and pulling gently.

Power flooded Stiles so fast he nearly stumbled, his little candle of magic suddenly a roaring bonfire. He opened his mouth to announce his success when he heard Derek hiss through his teeth the way he did when he pulled arrows out of himself. "Derek?" Stiles said instead, opening his eyes and letting the magic drain away. Derek flinched and Stiles let go of him to hurry around and crouch down in front of him. "Did I hurt you?"

Derek kept his eyes squeezed shut and his face tipped down towards his chest. "Did it work?" he grunted.

"Yeah, I think so, but Derek what's going on with you?"

"It's fine." Derek looked up, squinting a little with watery eyes.

"It's not fine when it's clearly hurting you!" Stiles grabbed Derek's shoulder and shook him a little.

"It's fine," Derek repeated. "I can just feel the... energy or magic or whatever it is going through me. Feels like it doesn't fit in my body and it scrapes all the way up to your hands."

"Huh." Stiles sat back on his heels.

"That is fascinating," Lydia said from behind Stiles.

"I told you," Stiles turned to look at Lydia, "werewolves aren't natural magic conduits."

"I beg to differ," Lydia smirked, "this one clearly is! I felt the power flow into you through him."

"But it's hurting him."

Lydia shrugged. "So try again. Maybe it's a surface area problem; all that magic can only come up through his hands, and then has to funnel into your hands too."

Stiles sighed and turned back to Derek. It didn't seem like the worst idea. "You okay to try one more time? Then we can call it quits until after we do some more research."

"Fine," Derek insisted.

"Okay." Stiles rubbed at his shoulder. "Maybe take your pants off, too?"

Derek nodded and got up to kick off his boots and shuck his jeans. Erica wolf whistled and Derek rolled his eyes as he sat down again, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Like this?" he looked up at Stiles.

"Yeah, um, and I'll just--" Stiles tore his eyes away from Derek's body to stand up and fumble his way out of his hoodie and shirts, nearly tripping over his own feet as he walked around behind Derek again. This time he sat behind Derek, thighs on either side of Derek's hips, and wrapped his arms around Derek's naked torso, pulling Derek back to rest skin-to-skin against Stiles' chest.

"I did not think we were going to get soft core pornography when we came out here today," Isaac smirked.

Stiles tried to ignore Isaac and the way his own face was flaming. "This okay?" he asked Derek.

Derek nodded.

Stiles took a deep breath and shut his eyes, fingers flexing against Derek's skin as he tried pulling on Derek's pack bond again, focusing on being as gentle as possible. This time Derek made a surprised little sound as Stiles felt magic wash through him again.

"Is that better?" Stiles asked, concentrating hard to keep his hold on the magic.

"Yeah, that's..." Derek relaxed into Stiles' chest and tucked his face up against Stiles' neck. "That feels nice actually."

"Oh, well that's great, good idea, Lydia."

"Don't act so surprised," Lydia drawled.

"Derek, can you reach the ward?" Stiles asked.

"Probably with my foot." Derek squirmed against Stiles in a very distracting way for a moment before Stiles' magical vision was suddenly flooded with burning points of brilliant red light.

Stiles flinched at the onslaught and he felt Derek's muscles flex as he tensed.

"What's wrong?" Derek asked.

"Nothing, I just think I can see all the wards now." Stiles slowly got used to the additions to his sight and recognized the shape the wards made around Beacon Hills -- he had been staring at a map marked with the wards in his bedroom everyday for the better part of five years, so he was intimately familiar with the imperfect circle they made.

"Are they all active?" Boyd asked.

"I think so?" Stiles shrugged. "They all look lit up, but I don't know what they would have looked like before. We'll just have to come back and check every so often, I guess."

Stiles heard a chittering noise and his eyes flew open, excess magic whooshing out of him like a popped balloon. He started to look around for the source of the noise, only to freeze when Derek let out a moan and practically melted against Stiles. "... Derek?" Stiles asked.

"Sorry," Derek mumbled, head lolling to the side until Stiles could feel Derek's eyelashes fluttering against his neck, "I told you it felt good."

"Yeah," Erica snickered, "you apparently weren't kidding."

"Did you guys hear that noise?" Stiles asked, desperately trying not to think about how Derek was boneless with apparent pleasure in his arms. His voice cracked embarrassingly.

"It's just one of the shadow creatures again," Boyd pointed out into the woods while Isaac and Erica dissolved into giggles. "It's not getting any closer than the others did."

"Okay." Stiles patted Derek's chest. "You ready to get up and get dressed, big guy? I think we're done here."

"Yeah, okay," Derek sighed. He rubbed his cheek on Stiles' collarbone before slowly sitting up and reaching for his shirt.

Stiles jumped up and pulled his clothes back on, turning around just in time to get an eyeful of Derek's boxer-clad ass as he bent over to put on his jeans. Stiles barely held back a squeak as he watched with wide eyes until Derek had his pants fully up. He turned away, cheeks hot, only to meet Erica's leer. He groaned and covered his face.

"A very successful morning," Lydia said, hands on her hips and a satisfied look on her face.

"I'll say," Erica grinned. She watched the loan shadow creature snuffle around beyond the wards. "If these things really work..." she trailed off.

"It'll be life-changing," Isaac finished.

Boyd snorted. "It'll make things a lot easier, that's for sure. Come on, let's go home. If we hurry I have time for a nap before I have to work on my paper."

"Here here," Stiles said, following Boyd back to Erica's car.

Derek fell into place next to Stiles on the short walk back. "When do you want to come out and check them again?"

Stiles shrugged. "Maybe Wednesday afternoon right after my last class?"

Derek nodded. "I'll meet you at campus."

"Great, uh, can't wait."

===

Stiles was nearly vibrating with nerves by the time Wednesday came around. When he came out of his last class Derek was leaning again the building watching the stream of students pour through the doors, looking like sex on legs as usual.

Stiles waved goodbye to Gina and headed over to Derek. "You ready for this?" Stiles asked as he approached.

"If I remember right I don't have to do anything but take off my clothes," Derek smirked.

"Derek!" Stiles hissed, grabbing Derek's elbow and dragging him toward the parking lot. "Don't say things like that where anyone can hear you!" Stiles looked around, letting out a little breath of relief when no one he knew was nearby.

Derek grinned, unconcerned.

"It's your reputation that would be ruined by dating me, you'd think you'd care a little more," Stiles tried to tease.

Derek shot Stiles a wry look. "Half this town still thinks I'm a serial killer who got away with it. Don't think I can go much lower than that."

"Okay, this got depressing fast," Stiles sighed. "He threw his backpack in the trunk of his Jeep. "Did you drive here?"

"Ran." Derek circled around to the passenger side and climbed in.

Stiles hopped into the driver seat and convinced the Jeep to start after a long sputter.

"You need me to take another look at this thing?" Derek frowned.

"She's fine!" Stiles insisted before deflating as he pulled out of the lot. "But if you have the time to look it wouldn't hurt. Seems like she's taking longer and longer to start lately."

"Bring it over on Saturday. You can borrow the Camaro if you need to go anywhere."

"Thanks, dude." They drove in silence for a few minutes before Stiles asked, "You feel fully recovered?"

"Yeah," Derek shrugged, "back to normal."

"And you haven't noticed anything unusual in the general territory? Erica said she saw one of the shadow creatures sniffing around beyond the wards on her patrol, and Boyd said he saw a will-o-the-whisp near the nemeton."

"Nothing unusual. Wards are still humming. Spoke to the sprites in the creek, explained about the wards. Saw the fairy colony, but they vanished before I could approach -- wanted to let them know, too, but I guess they're not that concerned if they don't want to talk to me. I saw a couple more of the shadows, too, but they've been keeping to the deep woods."

"Should we let anyone else know about them? They'll go somewhere else if they can't be here anymore."

Derek shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe they'll keep wandering around the edges of our territory. They're not close enough to anyone else's territory to concern them."

"I guess."

"I don't want to tell anyone else about our wards until we have to, anyways. Makes our territory too appealing to have a nemeton with protection from all the chaos that usually comes with one."

Stiles squinted at the road in front of him. "Did no one know about the wards before?"

"They knew. But our pack was strong and well connected -- it would have been too dangerous to try driving us out. Now, some might be willing to try."

"Do they not think they could activate the wards?"

Derek snorted. "They think if it were possible we would have done it ourselves already."

"Yeah, okay, that makes sense." Stiles pulled off onto a tiny dirt track, the Jeep bouncing through potholes. "How do we charge the wards if they need it?"

Derek shrugged. "You're the one who kick-started them."

"Great," Stiles sighed. He brought the Jeep to a stop at the end of the road.

"Just make another shield," Derek said as he got out of the car. "That's what did it before, why wouldn't it work again?"

"I don't know, Derek," Stiles locked the Jeep and trudged into the woods after Derek, "it's magic, nothing about it makes sense."

They reached the ward before long, another twisted little tree covered in sigles and with three glowing stones facing out into the woods, the same constant hum permeating the air around it.

"It looks fine." Stiles touched the tree and jumped, shaking out his hand after a strong feeling like static electricity raced through him at the touch. "It doesn't hurt you to touch, does it?" Stiles turned to look at Derek, only to find him already stripped down to his boxers. Stiles closed his eyes and sighed, wondering how he was supposed to deal with this every week or two without going insane.

"No, feels tingly, but it's not bad." Derek sat down next to Stiles. "Ready?"

"Do we even need to do magic? It's clearly still working."

Derek shrugged. "I guess not. But we're already here, why not plug in?"

"Okay." Stiles pulled off his shirts and sat behind Derek, wrapping his arms around Derek's warm, soft skin.

"Are you nervous?" Derek asked as he leaned back against Stiles' chest and rested his shin against the ward.

"I'm fine," Stiles said, wincing as his voice came out high-pitched and awkward.

Derek hummed and Stiles shut his eyes to escape the situation. He yanked at Derek's pack bond harder than he meant to, which made the whole situation backfire spectacularly as Derek moaned extravagantly, going limp in Stiles' grip.

"Fuck," Stiles whispered and tried to focus on the wards in his magical vision instead of the feel of Derek's skin and the way Derek was slowly rubbing his cheek against Stiles' collarbone. "I think they're fine," Stiles said, opening his eyes and watching Derek bite his lip and shiver as the magic flowed back through him.

Derek fluttered his eyes open and met Stiles' gaze. "I hope we never have to do this in the middle of a fight," Derek said breathlessly. "Do that a couple more times and I will have an orgasm."

"Holy fuck," Stiles' voice cracked as he tipped his head back and stared up at the canopy above them. "You absolutely cannot say things like that to me, Derek."

"Why?" Stiles looked back down to see Derek smirking up at him. "You wanna try and see if you can do it now?"

"Are you fucking drugged right now?" Stiles grabbed Derek by the chin and stared into his face -- his pupils were blown wide. "Is it the magic making you say this?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "No."

"Are you sure? Because you also seemed pretty slap-happy the last time we did this."

"I feel good," Derek shrugged. "Nothing more than that."

Stiles snorted. "Being drunk feels good too, doesn't mean you don't do things you regret while you're feeling good."

Derek sighed. "The wards looked good?"

"Yeah. Still bright." Stiles was a little disappointed that Derek was going to let that line of conversation drop so fast.

"So we can leave them alone for another few days. You bring your car over Saturday like we said, then we can go to dinner after I fix it. Then," Derek smirked, "we can see about orgasms after that."

Stiles let go of Derek to rub his hands over his face. "You're impossible. Are you asking me on a date now?"

"Yup." Derek popped the 'P' obnoxiously.

"Okay, fine, if you still feel the same way on Saturday, I'm all in. Now get up and get dressed, this is very awkward."

Derek grinned and hopped to his feet. Stiles very determinedly did not look over as they both pulled their clothes back on.

===

The next two days passed far too quickly for Stiles to prepare himself for the possibility of a date with Derek. The pack emergency group chat stayed quiet, and he didn't hear anything directly from Derek, either. Stiles' heart was in his throat as he pulled into Derek's wide driveway Saturday afternoon, the garage door open to show Derek at his work bench inside. He wasn't wearing a shirt because of fucking course he wasn't.

"Hey," Stiles said as he jumped out of the driver's seat, nearly tripping over his own feet.

"Stiles," Derek smiled, coming out into the driveway. "Did you change your mind about dinner tonight?"

"No. Did you, now that you're sober?"

Derek cocked his head. "Still not sure that I wasn't sober before, but no, I didn't either."

"Good, that's, ah, great." Stiles still felt like he might puke.

"Hey," Derek clapped a heavy hand to Stiles' shoulder, "relax. Eating together is not new."

"Yeah, but it's not normally followed by orgasms!"

Derek smirked. "Well we don't have to do that part if you don't want to."

"I very much do want to!"

"Come here." Derek stepped forward and wrapped his hands around Stiles' waist. "This okay?"

"Yup," Stiles said, sliding his hands up Derek's abs to rest on his pecks.

"Good," Derek smiled. He leaned in to kiss Stiles, lips soft and tentative against Stiles' mouth.

Stiles groaned and pressed back against him, sliding a hand up to grip Derek's hair. Stiles licked into Derek's mouth and Derek moaned, the same delicious little noise he'd been making in the woods. Derek pressed their bodies tighter together, and Stiles felt the weight of Derek's cock against his hip. They parted with a wet smack.

"That settle you down?" Derek asked, not moving any farther away.

"That did not make anything go down," Stiles grinned, flexing his hips pointedly against Derek's.

"Hmm." Derek bit his lip and knocked his forehead against Stiles'. "What about if we skipped straight to the orgasms?"

"As long as we still get to the actual date afterwards, yeah, I'm fine with that. And I do still need Roscoe looked at."

"We'll definitely get to all of that." Derek slid his hands down to grab Stiles' ass, rocking his cock against Stiles' hip. "What about if we moved to the backyard?"

"You're really serious about that?"

"Not kidding about how good it feels." Derek stepped back and grabbed Stiles' hand, dragging him into the backyard through the garage so he could shut the garage door on the way. "I've been trying really hard not to think about who my mom used to do that with."

Stiles choked out a startled laugh. "Careful, you'll spoil the mood."

"I think I can bring it back." Derek kicked off his boots and started taking off his pants, pulling down his boxers at the same time.

"Yeah, okay," Stiles said faintly, fumbling his way out of his clothes while staring at Derek preening in front of him. He tackled Derek into the grass, swallowing Derek's little laugh as he pressed himself full-length against Derek. He pulled back a little and shut his eyes, slipping into his magical vision again. "Let's see how loud I can make you moan."

Notes:

#nostalgiafan123 #stereksanta20 #*fic20 #*gifts20

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maxineswritingcenter · 3 years

Text

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 18

I’ll be switching point of views for this one so buckle your seat belts. I just hope I do the character’s justice because it’s been a minute since I watched the show. Also going to be changing the perspective because... My writing makes no sense and it probably never will.

--------------------

“I'm saying we need a new plan, because next time, one of us is going to be too hurt to heal.” Derek led Scott and I into the subway car in the middle of the abandoned depot. The unfortunate reality is that Jackson was no longer Jackson, and we only had one option left.

Scott sighed, “Ugh, I get it. We can't save Jackson.”

Derek sat down on one of the seats, “We can't seem to kill him, either. I've seen a lot of things, Scott. I've never seen anything like this. Every new moon's just gonna make him stronger.” He said grimly.

“But how do we stop him?”

“I don't know. I don't even know if we can.” He shrugged, sounding defeated. I could imagine how he felt, powerful but so helpless.

“Maybe we should just let the Argents handle it...” He suggested.

“I don’t know if they could help.” I crossed my arms over my chest, “Chris filled him with lead and it didn’t stop him. I don’t think they could handle it either.”

“I'm the one who turned him. It's my fault.” Derek let his head hang.

“That’s not true.” I looked at him sternly.

“You didn't turn him into this! I mean, this happened because of something in his past, right?” Scott asked.

Derek scoffed, “That's a legend in a book. It's not that simple.”

“What do you mean? What aren't you telling me?”

“Why do you think I'm always keeping something from you?” He looked up at Scott.

“Because you always are keeping something from me!”

“Well, maybe I do it to protect you. Both of you.”

“Doesn't being part of your pack mean no more secrets?”

Derek sighed, looking down at his hands, “Go home, Scott. Sleep. Heal. Make sure your friends are safe... 'Cause the full moon's coming, and with the way things are going, I've got a feeling it's gonna be a rough one.” Scott left with a huff, leaving Derek and I alone.

“Der...” I said softly, running my fingers through his dark hair. He closed his eyes, humming softly.

“You can’t blame yourself, you could have never imagined what could have happened.”

“I thought there was something wrong with my bite.” His voice was barely audible, “Something wrong with me.”

“No, no, no.” Kneeling down, I cupped his cheeks in my hands, “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re perfect.”

“You have to say that. I’m your mate.”

I only cringed a little at his use of the word “mate” unironically, “That’s not true. I give you criticism at any chance I get. But that’s mostly because you keep turning kids into soldiers.”

“I guess you’re right.” His lips turned up slightly, “You’re like my conscience, but a lot better looking than this mug.” He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to my lips. Grinning, I kissed his nose and stood up.

“I gotta get home, make sure everyone’s alright. I’ll see you later.” I winked, making my way out of the depot.

I got home late, but not any later than the usual lately. As soon as I closed the door, I saw Uncle Noah at the kitchen table. He was pouring whiskey into a glass, probably wasn’t his wish. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked like he hadn’t slept or showered in a while. Walking quietly, I placed my hands on his shoulders, squeezing lightly.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed.” He looked up at me slowly, blinking his pale green eyes at me.

“I don’t know what I did wrong, (Your Mom’s Name).” He said, “(Y/N) is so distant and she won’t talk to me anymore.” I was told once or twice that I resembled my mother, but in his drunkenness, he must have thought I was her.

“I mean, hell... She was dating someone for months and she didn’t even tell me. Sure, he was a person of interest... But he was also her friend.”

Smiling softly, I guided him to a standing position, “No, Noah, she’s just going through a lot right now. She’s still learning and growing. And you’re doing the best job you can and she loves you for it.” I helped him to his room and into bed.

“Goodnight, (Y/M/N).” He yawned, pulling the covers over himself and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight, Noah.” I said, closing the door behind me. I took a deep breath and went down the hall to Stiles’ room. He was sleeping away in the most ridiculous position possible, having fought off a kanima and saving his friend from death. I was just happy to see him there, alive and breathing.

“Goodnight, Stiles.” I whispered, closing his door all the way.

It was the night of the full moon and my body was already feeling the effects of it. But since my self training/ anger management was doing well, Derek gave a hesitant okay for working with Scott’s Scooby Gang to keep a look out at Lydia’s birthday party. Derek and I had the betas in the railway car in the depot. He was looking through his family’s chest again.

“What is that?” Isaac asked, looking quizzically at the symbol on the box.

“It’s a triskele.” Boyd said, “The spirals mean different things: past, present, future; mother, father, child.”

“Do you know what it means to me?” Derek asked.

“Alpha, Beta, Omega?”

“That’s right. It’s a spiral, it reminds us that we can rise to one.”

“And fall to another.” I finished. It was one of the few things I remembered word for word from the research we did back when Derek was cousin Miguel.

“Betas can become Alpha, but Alphas can fall to Betas, or even Omegas.” Derek said, continuing to look through the box.

“Like Scott?” Isaac asked.

“Scott’s with us.”

“Really?” Isaac’s voice held just a touch of sarcasm, “Then where is he now?”

“They’re looking for Jackson.” He looked pointedly at me, then back to the group, “Don’t worry, they’re not gonna have it easy either. None of us will. There’s a price you pay for this kind of power. You get the ability to heal” He handed a leather belt connected to a chain to Isaac, “But tonight, you’re gonna want to kill anything you can find.”

“Good thing I had my period last week then.” Erica chuckled. Derek pulled a metal crown from the box, there were screws turned inwards towards where someone’s head would be.

“Well, this one's for you.” Erica’s face immediately changed. Beeping made me look down at my phone.

Stiles:

2006 Swim Team - Lahey was the Coach.

“That’s my cue to leave.” I shoved my phone in my pocket and backed out of the open door, heading out into the open depot.

“Wait.” Derek called after me, catching me before leaving out the door in my car that was finally back from the shop.

“Yes?” I sing-songed, turning around to face him.

“I wanted to give you something.” He said, reaching into the pocket of his jeans, “You have something from Stiles but you should have something from me. Something that means... More.” From his pocket he produced a silver ring, it had a twisted band towards the top with a triskele cut out of the metal.

I started down at the ring in shock, “Is... Is this a proposal?” His eyes widened.

“No.” He squeezed his eyes shut, “I mean, not yet. This... This is a promise. For both of us. You uh, could wear it on your ring finger if you want though-That is if you want it-” I silenced his babbling with my lips.

“I love it.” I smiled, taking the ring and sliding it on my left ring finger. It fit surprisingly, “Thank you.”

“Tonight... I’m probably going to get hurt. Just try to block it out as much as you can.”

“Sounds good. I love you.” I cupped his cheek.

“I love you.” He smiled. My hand slipped from his cheek and I made my way out of the depot.

I parked outside of Lydia’s house and I was actually able to park in her driveway. From what I remember, Lydia’s parties, especially her birthday parties, were supposed to be insane and packed. Yet, I could only see Roscoe. Which meant that Stiles was finally invited. Good for him. I knocked on the front door and waited, slipping my hands into my jacket pockets.

The door opened, revealing Lydia who was vaguely confused by my being at her door. She tilted her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at me.

“Sarah?”

“(Y/N).” I corrected her.

“Oh. Well, come in.” She opened the door further, revealing the tray of pink cocktails in her hand, “Have a drink.” I grabbed a pink drink from the tray and cheered it towards her as I went inside, going straight to the back where Scott, Stiles and Allison were sitting on the deck of the pool.

“Is this... everyone?” I asked, sitting besides Stiles in a lawn chair.

"Maybe it's just early?" Scott said, not believing it himself.

Stiles said grimly, "Or maybe nobody's coming because Lydia turned into the town whack job."

"Well, we have to do something because we've completely ignored her for the past two weeks..." Allison said.

"She's completely ignored Stiles for the past ten years." Scott pointed out.

"I prefer to think of it as I haven't been on her radar." Stiles said in an offended tone.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I patted his shoulder.

Scott sighed, “We don't owe her a party.”

“What about the chance to get back to normal?” Allison crossed her arms over her chest.

“Normal?”

She shrugged, “She wouldn't be the "town whackjob" if it wasn't for us.”

Scott nodded, “I guess I could use my co-captain status to get the lacrosse team here...”

I pulled out my phone, “I could pull some strings with some people from my year.” I found the group text I had gotten from when I had been abducted, typing in Lydia’s address and the promise of a party and booze.

“Yeah, I also know some people who can get this thing going. Like, really going.” Stiles said, looking down at his phone. He was looking through his contacts, finding: Drag Queen from Jungle.

“Who?” She asked.

“I met them the other night... Let's just say, they know how to party.” He sent off the text then looked over at me.

“What is that?” He asked, motioning with his phone to my left hand.

“A ring. You know what those are, right?” I sipped my drink.

Stiles’ jaw clenched, looking towards the sidewalk, “You gonna marry him.”

“It’s not an engagement ring, it’s a promise ring.”

“Whatever.” He got up, walking inside. I avoided Scott and Allison’s awkward gaze and just took a large gulp of my drink.

In the next ten minutes, the amount of people who showed up was pretty astounding. Town whack job or not, promise people booze and they will come. Walking through the crowd, I saw people that I used to hang around with. A lot of people gave their condolences, lots of staring, sad smiles, but that’s how it was.

“A little jumpy are we, Jackson?” I took a sip out of my drink.

While walking through it hit me - shitty, over priced cologne. And possibly, a terrible attitude. And lizard. I turned quickly and saw Jackson. He was startled by my sudden movement.

He narrowed his eyes at me, then looked away, “I don’t have to explain myself to someone who makes minimum wage.”

"I would watch my back if I were you, (Y/L/N). Full moon makes me feel a certain way." I chuckled and looked down, craning my neck back up to flash him my red eyes.

“Maybe it’s because you’re not a disgusting lizard thing right now, but I could care less that you are trying to intimidate me. You don’t even know why you came here tonight, do you? You’re certainly not here for Lydia.”

It was my turn to narrow my eyes, “You don’t know why you’re here. So that means...” The puppeteer was here, “Good talk, gotta go.” As I walked quickly, trying to find Scott or Stiles, I found Matt getting a drink from Lydia, but he really wasn’t looking at Lydia. He had his eyes trained on Allison and the way he wasn’t looking at her reminded me of the night Michael took me. I didn’t like Allison at the best of times considering she shot me and all, but this was too much to ignore. As I walked towards Matt I was halted, like my feet didn’t want to move from what I saw. Derek was standing by himself near the outside of the house. I walked up to him quickly.

“Derek, what are you doing here? Where are the others?” They couldn’t have transformed then transformed back by now, there was no way.

“There’s been something I’ve been thinking about.” He swirled the drink in his hand, the same drink everyone else had, “You have a habit of making people miserable or getting them killed.”

“Excuse me?” I squinted at me, swallowing thickly. My throat felt dry and was it getting hotter?

“Think about it. Your parents think you’re too weak to keep your secret so they take your life from you, taking you from me. You’re the reason your parents are dead. You got Michael killed.” He stepped forward and with every step, I took one back, “I’m just wondering when it’s my turn to die or even Stiles.”

“Derek, I-” My eyes were watering.

“How about I kill Stiles for you? Save some blood for your hands. Or,” He chuckled, “Would you rather do it yourself.” He started to walk back towards the party. I grabbed his arm to stop him when he abruptly turned.

“You know what, I’ll just let you kill me. You can handle the rest on your own.” He grabbed my wrist and jerked it, my claws flicking out. I tried to pull my wrist away but his grip was too strong.

“No, stop!” I screamed as he slashed my claws across his throat, blood spraying across my face. Suddenly, Derek and blood were gone. All the party goers were going about their business, I was the only one who had seen Derek use my own hands to kill him. I looked over my hand and made sure the blood had been imagined. My eyes were then brought to the pink drink in my hand. This had to be the reason... Lydia spiked the drinks, but with what? I couldn’t even remember how many of these I had. To make matters worse, my stomach got super queasy-

I turned to the bushes and threw up everything that I had eaten that day. If I didn’t feel great, it was worse now. I got a few disgusted looks but that was the least of my problems. I dumped my drink in the bushes and started to stumble forward, looking to find Scott or Stiles. Thinking about it now, my mouth was starting to get itchy which was possibly the worst possible feeling to add onto everything else. I went into the house and upstairs, finding Matt groaning on the floor and Allison rushing passed me.

“Matt?” I asked, helping him off the ground, “What happened to you?” Once on his feet, he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Allison happened. She put me flat on my ass.” Probably with good reason.

He squinted at me, “Are you alright?” I shook my head.

“Not really. You got gum or something, that drink left the worst taste in my mouth.”

“No,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a white pill bottle, “But I have some pain meds.”

“That’ll work.” I took the bottle then looked behind me, grabbing a water bottle out of someone’s hands.

“Hey!” The person glared. I glared right back, “Not the time, freshman.” This seemed to scare him enough for the kid to walk away. I opened the bottle and popped the blue capsule in my mouth and chased it with what was not water but actually vodka.

“Jesus!” I spat to the side, “What is wrong with people?” I looked at the bottle, realizing that it had no label.

“Hey, what was that? Tylenol? Ibuprofen?”

Matt smiled, “Mistletoe actually.” I blinked at him, my heart dropping into my stomach.

“What?”

“Mistletoe.” He chuckled, “That’s supposed to knock you guys out, right?” I took a step back and hit the doorframe, already feeling the effects of the poison in my system.

“Using Jackson to kill my murderers is good, but I need protection. You protected me once. From Lahey. And you’re gonna protect me again, whether you like it or not.”

SCOTT

Scott pushed through the crowd, asking anyone who would listen if they had seen Lydia. The drinks she had made had been spiked to create hallucinations. We had to find out why. She spiked the punch with wolfsbane petals which seemed to cause Stiles and Allison to hallucinate too.

Outside, Stiles ran up to Scott, “Hey, I can't find her. And dude? Anyone who drank that crap, they're freaking out.” They watched two people cannonball into Lydia’s pool with all their clothes on.

“...I can see that.”

“What the hell do we do?”

“I don't know, but we gotta-”

“I can't swim!” Both their heads turned. Matt was being carried by three people, he was flailing and panicking, “No, no, no, no, stop, guys! I can't swim! I can't swim! I can't-I can't-” The partiers didn’t listen, throwing him into the pool. He went under immediately. And to their surprise, Jackson and (Y/N) ran to the poolside and both pulled him out.

Once on the pool deck, (Y/N) got Matt on his side, helping him cough up any water he swallowed. They both helped him to stand. Everyone was staring at that point.

“...What are you looking at?” Matt barked at the gawking crowd. Jackson took the time to make his exit. (Y/N) walked towards Scott and Stiles, Matt close behind her.

“Move.” She growled, flashing her bright red eyes. The two parted, letting (Y/N) and Matt through. Immediately after, a siren cut through the air.

“COPS ARE HERE!” Someone in the crowd shouted, causing the party goers to scatter. Scott and Stiles followed the ground out and onto the street. Scott looked down the street and saw them. Matt was standing in front of his car, dripping wet and seething with rage. Jackson in his kanima form was in front of him on all fours and (Y/N) stood at his right, claws out and fangs bared. He’d been under their noses for so long but now that they know, that meant they were in danger, all of them.

----------------

Read Part 19 here!

Who needs a point a view when you’re under mind control, ammi right?

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