#and scott and derek taking care of him. gently telling him the things he's forgotten

[buckybarnesss]

but really teen wolf did gloss right on over how long lived kitsune and werewolves are in the universe.

sure, there was that vague bullshit in visionary but duecalion is implied to be long-lived and we actually do see satomi in the fox and the wolf wwii flashback and she was a century old at her death.

noshiko is nine hundred years old and kira can live upwards to over a thousand years outliving everyone she's ever known.

so the deaths of the werewolves throughout teen wolf just become even more sad and tragic when you realize that talia was murdered barely into her prime, laura's life cut short before it really began, erica and boyd were still children and hadn't been wolves for more than a handful of weeks.

scott, malia, liam and derek will probably outlive most of their loved ones.

the bittersweetness of that.

hopefully they could live happy, full lives filled with love where the horrible, traumatic things become distant and don't hurt as much with time but they still will have to bury the humans in their lives.

[free-pool-trash]

folklore - isaac lahey {3/?}

wooo part 3! thank you for all the love so far <333 grab a snack cuz this is a long one ;) platonic scott and derek x reader in this part too :)

let me know what you think <3

word count: 4.5k

warnings: swearing and lots of it, mentions of blood and i think that’s about it but let me know if there’s something i missed!!

Taglist: @makeusfreefromthisfandom, @cece-lives-here, @chocolate-raspberries, @belsandthings, @dancing-tacos-23, @truly-dionysus, @britty443, @tanyaherondale, @furiouspockettoad,  let me know if you’d like to be added <3

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART FOUR

The steady beating of the heart monitor filled the packed hospital room which held your unconscious body.

Your parents and Derek stood before your bed, shouting at each other in harsh whispers.

"What're you telling me right now, Derek?" Your father seethed through gritted teeth at the werewolf that had previously been teetering around what he was meaning to say.

"I'm saying that she's going to become a wolf. She was bitten by an Alpha, alright? Just like Scott." He explained, staring at your body sympathetically.

"The bite hasn't healed yet, Derek." Your mother chimed in, voice riddled with nerves as she took in the blood seeping through the bandage that was wrapped around your neck.

"It's only been a few hours…" The wolf trailed off, worry present in his voice. To be honest, people getting turned from being bitten was relatively new to Derek, because in his experience… the bite usually didn't take.

 Bodies more often than not rejected the bite, it's what separated the strong from the weak, natures way of keeping the balance. The strong became wolves and the weak died. Derek kept that information to himself, however, you were already a member of his pack- one of the only members left- he refused to believe that a bite from a wolf would be what made you meet your end.

"What if she doesn't take the form of a wolf?" You could pick up on the voices now, they were distant and echoed but you could hear them nonetheless.

"The form you take represents the person you are on the inside." Derek's voice.

"She's not exactly the get-angry-and-rip-a-throat-out-with-her-claws kind of kid." Your mother's voice, still surrounded by echoes but getting closer to you.

"What're you saying?" Derek, you felt anxiety building up in your stomach as the words filled your ears, it didn't belong to you though, no those nerves… they didn't belong to you- they were someone else's.

"I'm saying… what if she doesn't become a wolf… what if she becomes something else." Your heart rate picked up at her explanation, but again, you felt detached from the feeling of anxiety that was eating you up from the inside, the words of "or she could die." Sounding through your head, the words- like the anxiety- they weren't yours. They belonged to Derek.

With a gasp that ripped at your injured throat, you shot up, eyes flying open as you threw yourself into an upright position on the hospital bed, your hand flying up to grip your throat. What the fuck happened?

The words you previously heard were forgotten the second you reentered the land of the living, your chest heaving with slight panic before your eyes met your mother's, who was now at your side, removing your hand from your still unhealed wound and holding it in her own.

"What happened?" You rasped, voice hoarse and cracked, the words leaving your mouth painfully as your throat refused to mend itself.

"Don't you remember anything?" You could only shake your head at your mother's question, less out of giving an answer and more out of undiluted fear. Heart rate increasing while images of the beast with beaming red eyes flashed unrelentingly through your mind.

"A wolf. It was a wolf- but it was- it was-" You tried to explain but lost your voice as the panic set in, your chest felt restricted and the ever present beeping of the heart monitor picked up yet again as tears began to form in your terrified eyes.

Your parents tried to comfort you, only to be guided away by the nurses and doctors who had rushed in to your aid.

"Breathe with me sweetheart," Warm brown eyes stared into yours and you recognized Melissa right away, following her actions as she took deep breaths in and out, successfully calming your breathing. "Great job. You must really love this place, coming in on your day off." The older woman teased you softly, bringing a small smile to your face.

"Just can't stay away." You responded tiredly, causing her to smile and push your hair away from your forehead.

"Well you're in good hands because I'm going to be taking care of you." She told you with a wink, she then turned to your parents, Derek seemed to have slipped out of the room during the commotion, and smiled sympathetically, "We're going to change her bandages and then, if she's feeling up to it," She paused for a moment, glancing at you with a smile before finishing, "She can reassure the boy band out there that she's all good so they'll go home." Melissa finished with a laugh, motioning to the waiting room which you couldn't see.

"Isaac is here." Your father spoke softly, hoping to cheer you up as he peeked out the window, Melissa chiming in too, "And Scott. And Stiles. Jackson stopped by earlier too." You couldn't help how your eyes widened, you didn't even realize you knew that many people, let alone well enough for them to want to come check on you. Isaac was the only person in the line up that made any real sense.

Swallowing thickly, wincing slightly due to the sting you looked at Melissa hopefully, "Can I see them?"

The nurse nodded, "After I change this." She wasted no time in gently pulling the bandage from your skin, murmuring an apology when you winced.

*

Isaac, Scott and Stiles sat awkwardly beside each other in the waiting room of the hospital. The area was quiet and absolutely drenched in tension. 

Scott and Stiles were in the midst of a heated, but quiet, argument about something that Isaac couldn't discern, Scott's leg bounced nervously and he periodically glanced towards your room. The tallest of the boys picked up on Stiles' harsh whisper of, "Dude, relax okay? She's probably fine."

Isaac cleared his throat slightly, looking toward the other two boys who looked at him with surprised expressions as if they'd forgotten he was there, which to be fair they had.

"Um, I didn't realize you were friends with (Y/n)." Isaac spoke with a raised eyebrow, the question came out quietly, and Scott gave him a nervous nod, "Uh, I mean yeah- we haven't been friends for long but um she's cool."

Isaac wrung his fingers together, muttering, "Yeah she is." 

He couldn't lie, he felt a little twinge of jealousy towards Scott- feeling slightly threatened by the boy he'd only ever seen in the hallways and although Stiles sat beside him too, he sensed that coming to visit you was all Scott's idea, Scott he was threatened by, Stiles not so much.

"What's your deal anyway?" Stiles piped up, causing Isaac to chew on his bottom lip nervously wanting nothing more than to shrink into himself or melt into the floor, it wasn’t often that he didn’t have you for reassurance and to be perfectly honest he hated not having you beside him with your hand always mere centimetres away and ready for him to slip his own into.

"What do you mean?" Stiles rolled his eyes, "I mean with (Y/n), what's your deal with (Y/n)?"

Clearing his throat again, Isaac was at a loss for words, what exactly was his deal with you? You were his best friend but he was also harboring feelings for you. Looking at Stiles anxiously he simply shrugged his shoulders, "She's my best friend."

"Like watch movies together kinda best friend or you secretly want to marry her kinda best friend?" The sarcastic boy inquired curiously, receiving an elbow to the ribs from Scott who shot Isaac an apologetic smile, "Ignore him. I do."

Blood rushed towards Isaac's cheeks and he returned his gaze to where it had been on the floor, he knew the answer to Stiles' question but that didn't mean he was ready to be confronted with it, especially not so late at night when the girl in question was severely injured in a hospital room and he didn't even know if she was going to be okay.

*

"Jesus…" Melissa whispered, disinfecting the wound for the fourth time since you'd been emitted, "We're gonna need to give you some heavy medication because this thing is definitely infected." At her words your parents exchanged nervous glances, Derek was going to get an earful when they get ahold of him.

"Okay, all done. Which one of the Backstreet Boys should I send in first?" Melissa asked with an amused smirk, her comment receiving a snort from your father.

"Isaac please." You requested quietly, despite the fact that you'd just been mauled by a thing of nightmares you still felt bad about missing movie night with your best bud.

It only took a second for Isaac to be speeding into the room, eyes wide and bloodshot- he'd been crying.

"Thank God you're okay." He exclaimed, practically throwing his arms around you, careful of your injuries his arms pulled you against his chest and held your body against him.

His heartbeat was loud in your ears, not the same way as it usually was, it was like a drum banging right against your eardrums, it hurt but you didn't push the boy away, choosing to focus on the comfort he brought you instead of the pain.

"I'm okay." You assured softly, hand automatically moving to thread through his hair when you noticed his expression, or felt his expression more like. Pure anxiety, mixed with pure fear with an overwhelming feeling of relief. 

He nodded, eyes never leaving yours, "I was really worried." He still was, you could feel it weighing on your chest.

Without saying a word you simply pulled him back into you, noticing everyone else had left the room, you placed your lips on his cheeks with the intent of easing his worry, which seemed to work as the worry you previously felt crushing your chest dissipated completely.

"I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…" Isaac trailed off, holding your hand against his chest, the beating of his racing heart vibrating against your palm in a way it never had before, it's sound still just as loud as it had been a few seconds prior. 

Rushing filled your ears, like water flowing viciously down a river but it wasn't water. You knew what it was. It was blood- Isaac's blood. You could hear it pulsing through his veins rapidly, your hand right on the source and for whatever reason your mouth watered with a hunger you'd never felt before in your entire existence.

"(Y/n)!" Isaac calling your name broke you out of your trance. Shaking your head rapidly you squeezed his hand, "Sorry, I guess I'm just a little shaken up. I'm still here though so stop worrying, alright bub?" You told him, not quite sure if you believed a word of what you were telling him. Physically you were there with him but in every other sense you felt distant, numb almost.

"Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?" He asked sweetly, knowing that you were unsure, he hadn't seen you so shook up in, well, ever. 

Shaking your head, you merely managed a small smile as your head had begun to pound from the banging noises of not only Isaac's heart but now the bustle of the hospital going on outside of your room, you couldn't explain it but you could hear everything all at once. 

Every cough, every piece of equipment hitting every metal table, every piece of gossip being exchanged between the nurses, every wail of the newborns all the way over at the other side of the hospital. You could hear it all and it hurt. At first you hadn't noticed it so much but as the seconds past, you squeezed your best friend's hand as it became more and more overwhelming.

Shaking your head you looked at him with teary eyes, everything getting too loud, "Could you go find Melissa or-" you stopped, squeezing your eyes shut as every sound meshed together, ringing unbearably in your ears like a microphone pointed towards a speaker, "-or anyone. My head hurts really bad." 

Immediately Isaac was on his feet, leaving the room in a rush to find someone as you covered your ears, head splitting. You groaned painfully, tears flooding your cheeks as you tried to block out the noises only for them to grow louder and multiply almost to spite your efforts.

While focusing on blocking everything out, you heard a voice- a distinct voice. It was meant for you, you could feel it in your bones, the bite in your neck stinging viciously as you listened intently, searching for anything within the voice that would make it all just stop.

"You can hear me can't you. Yes you can. I'd hoped you'd take to the bite, it seems you have, maybe not how I originally intended but this will do. It's going to be hard but you can overcome this. Don't let it kill you."

The voice was assertive. Male. Familiar. The way he spoke reminded you of Peter, but it couldn't have been him, he hadn't spoken in years.

Then as soon as, whoever it was, stopped talking, it all flooded back in and you couldn't stop the agonizing scream that left your lips while you clutched your ears even tighter. You needed to get out.

In your panic you hadn't realized you'd rolled to the floor, wanting to move but not being able to so much as reopen your eyes after you'd made contact with the cold floor of the hospital room. Sobbing erratically while your ears began to burn, the feeling of liquid running down your face being  the only thing keeping you grounded while you shook and cried.

Long arms wrapped around your middle, holding you tightly against a chest that you couldn't see from your position, "(Y/n)?!" Isaac's panicked voice sent you even further into your spiral, only one word and yet you could hear every inflection of pain and hurt and confusion within his call of your name, and once again you could feel it. 

Your teary eyes met his frantic blue ones and you found yourself clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt with more strength than he'd ever known you to have, "Isacc. It's so loud! I want it to stop, god please do something, make it stop!" You sobbed against his chest causing him to look around with pure panic, pleading for someone, anyone to come and help you. Just then Melissa ran in, along with your parents and several doctors.

The last thing you heard before your eyes rolled to the back of your head was the stern voice of Melissa shouting, "Get her back on the bed. Now."

Don't let it kill you.

*

Opening your eyes felt like a chore, why were they so heavy? Once you finally managed to lift them open you slowly took in your new surroundings, no longer in the room you'd woken up in the first time. 

From what you could tell you were still in the hospital, just a different, darker room- a room without windows.

"You're finally awake." A voice sounded from beside your bed and you turned your gaze to meet Derek's.

"How's your head?" He asked, sitting forwards in his seat.

You offered him a small shrug, "Better. It's quiet." You heard nothing but your own heartbeat and Derek's.

Derek nodded, motioning around the room you were in, "sensory room." He explained, "sound proof."

Nodding in understanding you looked down at your neck peeking underneath your bandages, noticing the bite that was scabbing up, it looked absolutely vile. Scrunching up your face in disgust you turned back to Derek, "What the hell is happening to me?"

The older man let out a deep sigh at your question, raising an eyebrow before taking your hand, "You sure you want to hear it." 

"Hit me with it, wolf man." You told him through an exasperated sigh.

He rolled his eyes at the nickname before looking you dead in this eyes, "I thought when I saw your bite that what happened to Scott would happen to you… but it didn't." Your brows furrowed, "So I'm not a wolf?"

Derek shook his head, "No. But you're something else." Tilting your head to the side you nodded for him to continue before you imploded or the suspense killed you.

"Come on, tell me! If I'm not a wolf then what the fuck am I?" You insisted he give you an answer through gritted teeth, growing more impatient by the second.

Letting out another sigh, Derek looked at you through his lashes, "You're a vampire."

You scoffed, eyes rolling to the ceiling, "Derek be serious okay? I've watched Buffy the Vampire Slayer and I think I would know if I was a vampire-" "Hear me out-" "First of all, I'm not dead, vampires are dead. Second of all, vampires don't feel other people's emotions, I do, so explain that."

"You done?" Derek asked annoyance clear in his tone only for you to shrug nonchalantly.

"According to your parents you're in kind of a transition period. Nothing will be set in stone until you have your first feed." He explained, only for you to shake your head in denial.

"Thank you for clarifying nothing." You muttered, childishly.

"Alright fine. You're not dead because as I said right now you're in the transition period, however, if you don't feed you will be dead." 

"So you want me to drink blood?" You asked, although it was more of a statement.

Derek nodded, "Afraid so, kid."

"Where are my fangs?" You questioned. All vampires have fangs, your teeth felt the same as they always did.

"If I have to say the words transition period one more time, kid I swear-" Derek was cut off by yet another question falling from your lips, "Okay, so where do I stand with daylight?" 

"Look at your arms." Derek informed and you obliged, holding your arms up for inspection, they were covered in burns.

"Alright." You muttered in exhaustion. Allowing your arms to flop back down to your sides, "Ok next question." 

Derek felt his patience wearing thin, he loved you like a sister but you also annoyed him like one. When he didn't answer you asked your most pressing question.

"Why aren't I healing?" Derek let out a loud groan, letting go of your hand to rub it down his face. 

"What did I just say? Literally what did I just say?" The man grumbled and you rolled your eyes, "Transition period." You said mocking him, making a face and sticking your tongue out.

"You know, D. You're pretty cranky considering I'm the one whose just been pledged non-consensually to a life of darkness and blood sucking. With absolutely no explanation." You chastised with a playful smirk, noticing the smile the sour wolf was trying to contain.

*

It was after dark when you were finally discharged from the hospital, you'd spent about a week in that windowless room and you were just glad to feel the cold nights air against your skin after being cooped up for so long.

"Where are you taking me, Wolfie?" You asked, voice filled with uncertainty as you glanced at your newest friend and fellow creature of the night, Scott.

The boy only gave you a gentle smile, leading you towards the pet clinic and holding the door open for you to enter, "Oh god we're not getting you neutered are we?" You jested, trying to still your nerves.

"Afraid not." Another voice rang out, Deaton made his way into view and you gave him a small smile.

Deaton led you towards his practice, you sat up on the metal table, swinging your legs and waiting for some kind of explanation as to why Scott had brought you here.

"I assume by the look on your face that Scott failed to mention why you're here." Deaton spoke as if he heard your thoughts.

"Hey all you said was get her here!" Scott defended himself, hands raised slightly.

"Oh and you got here alright. Not suspicious or anything." You poked teasingly at his arm causing him to laugh. You wondered why you never talked to Scott before all the craziness happened because the two of you had been getting along incredibly in the past few days. He was one of the few people your parents allowed visit you in your windowless hospital room, claiming that since he was a wolf he was at a low risk of triggering your new vampire tendencies.

Deaton smiled, grabbing a small box from the counter then coming back to you, offering you the box, "Go on. It's for you." The older man encouraged when he noticed your hesitancy.

In the box there was a ring, it was pretty, silver with a small purple amethyst settled neatly in the center of the band, it was gorgeous to say the least. "It's a daylight ring. It'll allow you to walk the day as you please without getting burned." The vet, or … well you weren't sure what he was, explained kindly. "Put it on."

Happily you slipped the ring onto your left ring finger and admired it for a minute before turning your attention back to Deaton when he spoke again, "You have Scott to thank for that." He told you and your smile grew as you turned your head to Scott, "Thank you."

"Have you fed yet?" Deaton wondered and you shook your head in response. It'd been almost a week since Derek badly broke the news to you and yet you couldn't bring yourself to feed on human blood despite being absolutely starving.

In understanding, Deaton nodded, "You'll want to be thinking about doing it soon. Have you been having any urges?" Quickly your eyes widened when you realized when the hunger had started.

"After I woke up... Isaac came to see me and he was holding my hand to his chest, his heartbeat sounded so loud and I could hear the blood being pumped and then suddenly I had the most blinding hunger." You explained, looking at Deaton expectantly for answers.

"Has it happened like that with anyone else?" You shook your head as it'd only been so intense when looking at Isaac, who you hadn't seen since that night, your parents not wanting to risk you hurting the boy, when you focused on him that night in the hospital it was as if he was all you could see, all you could feel and his blood rushing and heart beating was all you could hear. But you hadn't wanted to hurt him, he made you hungry but you didn't feel the need or want to rip his throat out with your teeth as you assumed you should have.

 "I don't want to hurt anyone, though. I'm just hungry." You added on, unsure of whether or not being docile was normal for a baby vampire.

Deaton chuckled lightly placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "Vampires are different than wolves, more refined. They're fueled on empathy as opposed to anger. Media has painted them in somewhat of a bad light when in reality they're quite gentle creatures. They mostly only feed on the willing." He explained and you listened intently as he continued.

"The hunger isn't hard to control as you've probably already noticed. It's the heightened emotions that are hardest to control- along with learning to separate your own feelings from the feelings of others around you." 

Emotions weren't something you were good at controlling at the best of times, the possibility of you becoming overwhelmed very soon after fully transitioning seemed more than likely as you already had one meltdown under your belt.

"Then there's the matter of enhanced hearing. Scott tells me you've found that aspect quite difficult, but not to worry, it'll subside once you complete the transition and you'll be able to control what you can and can't hear."

"Thank God." You muttered through a sigh, shuddering at the memory of the migraine the ability had brought you.

Deaton went on to explain the other abilities that would develop after you completed your transition. These abilities included an extremely enhanced sense of empathy, meaning your own emotions were heightened as well as now being able to feel and change the emotions of others. Enhanced hearing, obviously. An enhanced sense of smell, inhuman strength and speed and once you’d finally fed on a willing participant your fangs would begin to grow in. Deaton warned you that that part would be “excruciatingly painful.”

After a while you parted with Scott and Deaton, enjoying the nighttime air as you walked yourself home, once you reached your house you made your way inside quickly, impatient to fill your patents in on what you’d learned from Deaton seeing as their supernatural knowledge focused more on traditional shapeshifters and Celtic lore.

Once you entered the kitchen you spotted your mother chatting quietly with Isaac. You couldn’t lie, you were really happy to see him. Last time you’d seen him you were screaming and passing out in his arms.

“Isaac.” You greeted with a smile, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while standing behind the chair he was sitting on since the back of the chair faced the kitchen door which you had just entered through, you rested your cheek against his soft curls when you felt his arms coming up to hug yours with a feeling of relief rushing over him as soon as you touched him.

“Hey (N/n).” The boy responded, holding back a sigh as he felt you remove your arms from him opting to take a seat beside him, he watched as you eyed your mother suspiciously before asking, “What’re you too chatting about?”

Isaac spoke up, “I got your text saying that you were discharged and came to see you, your mom was just telling me how you were out with Scott.” It didn’t hit your ear but the bitterness and mild jealousy hit your chest, causing you to frown momentarily before you painted a smile on your face, “Oh yeah he just brought me to talk to Dr Deaton to see if he could identify what kind of animal attacked me.” You lied easily, not wanting to disclose why you were really with Scott knowing that after not seeing you for a week that now definitely wasn’t the best time to let him know that you and Scott were helping each other.

Accepting your excuse you felt relief seeping from him yet again. You wondered if he’d always been this possessive over you, you didn’t mind it really you just hoped he’d be able to get passed it considering you’ll be spending a lot more time with Scott and even Stiles for the foreseeable future.

You had no clue what you were going to tell him though. How do you tell your best friend that they’ve been turned into a vampire and now want nothing more than to taste his blood on your tongue? As soon as you locked eyes on him your hunger returned, as blinding as it had been the first time. Your only wish was that the unique hunger you had for Isaac would ease once you completed your transition. Accidentally hurting him was absolutely out of the question. You wouldn’t let yourself harm even a hair on his head, the way he made your mouth water filled you with dread but you had to try your best to keep him out of the shitshow you found yourself in.

He’d been through enough, he didn’t need vampires and werewolves on top of the rest of his issues. So you made a decision then and there while you stared at his soft smile as he talked with your mother; for the first time in your six years of friendship, you were going to keep a secret from him.

[martinskis-lydias]

it’s made my soul come to life

pairing: derek hale/stiles stilinski

word count: 1868

notes: sequel to this but can be read as a standalone

Derek snorted at the episode of Supernatural he was rewatching. It was one of his favourite shows but he laughed at how inaccurate it could be sometimes. He couldn’t say he knew everything about the supernatural world (not even close) but there were some things that he knew for a fact weren’t real.

And vampires weren’t real.

Either way, he loved the show and watched it whenever he could.

And they’d actually had some down time the last couple months where everyone could relax a little bit. The college kids could focus on their school work, everyone else could go to work and not fear losing their jobs because they had to keep missing days, and Derek had gotten to watch some of his favourite shows or read some of his books.

It had been absolute bliss.

The Pack didn’t know what he’d been doing, they probably thought he was sitting and brooding in his apartment with a single lamp as his only light source.

(That wasn’t a guess, he’d heard Erica and Stiles saying that a week ago.)

But whatever, as long as they weren’t disturbing him. Or making fun of him for his show preferences.

After he finished another episode he got up to make himself lunch. He was draining the pasta and thinking about what sauce he wanted to use when he heard a car pull up out front. He sighed when he heard Stiles thanking Scott for the ride.

He didn’t want to have to do this, have to pretend he wasn’t in love with Stiles, have to watch his every word, make sure he wasn’t staring, overthink every little thing. And that’s what he did every time he was around Stiles. And Stiles was alone, which he wasn’t sure was better or worse.

At least when others were around he could focus on them, but they also tended to tease him and try and make Stiles notice his glaringly obvious crush.

Maybe it was better that he was alone. Stiles never seemed to notice anything, so as long as he controlled himself-

“Dude, are you watching Supernatural?”

Fuck.

He’d forgotten that the show was still paused on his TV.

“No.” Nice one, totally believable.

“No?” Stiles repeated incredulously. He was smirking and Derek knew Stiles didn’t believe him at all.

“It was just on,” Derek lied.

“You’re watching Netflix.”

“It was an accident, I clicked the wrong show.”

“Oh, gotcha, sure. Well, I love Supernatural. I bet you like it because you and Dean have the same car,” Stiles said, turning to walk to the kitchen.

“Dean and I don’t have the same car!” Derek yelled. “I have a Camaro and Dean has a ’67 Impala!”

Stiles turned to face him again, beer in hand and broad grin on his face. “I thought you didn’t watch the show?”

“Fuck.” Derek had fallen for it. “Fine, I watch the show. Happy?”

“Ecstatic. Why were you lying about it? It’s a good show,” Stiles asked.

“Well, I didn’t want the Pack to find out because they’ll probably make fun of me,” Derek mumbled, grabbing pasta sauce and mixing it with the noodles he’d drained. “It’s just a thing Laura and I used to do, and I didn’t want… I don’t know,” Derek finished, finally looking up at Stiles.

He handed one bowl to Stiles, seeing as he usually made enough for three or four in case someone stopped by, and they went over to the couch.

“Derek, they wouldn’t make fun of you. I know a bunch of them watch the show, we could all watch it together if you ever wanted company,” Stiles told him gently.

Derek nodded, feeling a little stupid about how dramatic he’d been. It was only a show, but it was just a connection he’d had with Laura and he didn’t want it to be something he was ever embarrassed or ashamed of.

“Anyways,” Stiles said, mouth full of pasta. “That’s not why I came over here, obviously.”

“Why did you come over? Not that I’m upset or anything, you’re always welcome,” Derek added hastily.

Stiles smiled a little. “Well, I have something I need to talk to you about,” he explained. Derek could hear his heart, hear how nervous he was.

“Is everything okay?” He asked, hoping he could help Stiles.

“Well, that depends on the next couple minutes, honestly,” Stiles answered.

That didn’t clarify anything so Derek stayed quiet. So did Stiles for a few minutes, but Derek could tell he was working himself up to something.

Finally Stiles opened his mouth but what he said wasn’t anything Derek had been expecting: “I think I’m in love with you.”

Derek felt like his brain was trying to reboot, like it wasn’t fully capable of processing what Stiles had just said. So it took him a moment to reply.

“You… you think?” was all he could get out.

“Uh, yeah, I think. I don’t know, it’s not anything I’ve ever felt before which is why it took me so long to figure it out. It’s not what I felt for Lydia or Malia or anyone else. This feels… different. Stronger, I think,” he explained. Derek could see how anxious he was, how much control he was using to talk about this so casually.

“And you’re sure about this?” Derek asked, because he needed Stiles to be sure. He knew that if he told Stiles how he felt and it all ended up being a joke or something that it would break him.

“Yeah, Derek. I’m sure. I was sitting in class the other day, bored out of my mind because I already knew everything that the professor was saying, and I was just thinking about you and I realized how often that happened. I think about you all the time. But I don’t think about how you’re probably the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen, or how great sex with you would be – okay, yes I think about those things, obviously – I also think about you,” Stiles was up on his feet, pacing in front of Derek now.

“I think about the fact that, even though you’re not the Alpha anymore, you take care of everyone like you are. You listen to everyone when they’re having any kind of issue, you constantly back Scott up, you help him when he’s in over his head. You give everyone everything they need but you never do that for yourself! It’s infuriating how much you care about everyone else but completely dismiss yourself!”

“Stiles-”

“No, shut up, let me get this out. I was thinking about this and I got so angry and I didn’t know why it pissed me off so much. And then it came to me. It pisses me off because you’re so wrong! You deserve everything, you deserve the moon and all the love in the world and you deserve to be taken care of. And I realized that I want to be the person that does that for you. I want to tell you how wonderful I think you are, I want to yell at you when you’re being a self-sacrificial idiot, I want to make your favourite dessert when you’ve had a bad day and I want to hold you on the couch when you fall asleep while I make you watch all the Star Wars movies.”

Stiles was breathing heavily now, his chest rising and falling quickly. There was a blush creeping up his face and he started to look from Derek to the door like he was judging if he could make a quick escape.

“Stiles-”

“Derek, it’s fine. You don’t have to say anything, I just… Scott told me that I should tell you and this was so stupid I’ll just go…”

Derek moved to stand in front of him, stopping his escape. “Stiles would you give me a chance to tell you that I’ve been in love with you for years?”

Stiles was finally silent, his eyes wide and staring at Derek’s face, trying to see if he was going to take it back.

When he didn’t, Stiles threw his arms around his neck and kissed him. Derek didn’t hesitate, he grabbed Stiles’ face and kissed him back with everything he had. Stiles’ hands moved down to Derek’s hips and pulled him in closer.

Derek practically melted against Stiles’ hold. He hadn’t been kissed in years, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed quite like this. Like Stiles thought he was precious and something to be treasured and wanted to hold him forever and protect him from the world.

Everyone Derek had ever been with expected him to be the protector, the one who was supposed to hold the other person up and growl at the world to keep the darkness away. The stereotypical top in the relationship. And he could do that, he wanted to protect the people he loved.

But sometimes he wanted to be held gently and taken care of and made to feel like he was so important that they would tear down the world to make sure Derek was safe and loved.

And that’s what Stiles was showing him with the protective hold on his hips and the soft but commanding press of his lips against Derek’s and the feeling of absolute love radiating from him so strongly that it almost knocked him over.

A few minutes later (or maybe a few lifetimes, Derek’s not exactly a reliable source on that detail) Stiles pulled away from him. They only moved away enough to breathe a little, but almost every other point of contact stayed, which was nice.

“Wow,” Stiles breathed. He had a look of shock and amazement on his face, one that probably mirrored Derek’s own.

Derek could only nod, speechless. He was also a little worried that he would say something stupid and this moment would be over much sooner than he’d like.

“So you… you really love me?” Stiles asked.

Derek snorted fondly. “Yes, Stiles, I love you. I realized I loved you years ago when you almost got into a fight with Liam because he tried to grab the last mozzarella stick when you knew I wanted it,” Derek admitted. He pulled Stiles closer to him, curling into him despite being a little taller and taking comfort in Stiles arms wrapping around him.

“You’re such a dork,” Stiles laughed. “But so am I, so I guess it works out.”

They just stood there for a bit, holding each other and feeling so unbelievably lucky to have this.

“So, do you want to watch a few episodes of Supernatural?” Stiles asked.

Derek laughed and pulled him onto the couch, starting up the episode he’d paused. He curled against Stiles’ side and Stiles pulled him into his lap, kissing his forehead and running his fingers through Derek’s hair.

Stiles loved him, and he understood him more than anyone ever had without even having to talk about it. He knew there would be issues, they were Stiles and Derek, of course they would fight and argue and make mistakes. But overall, he knew they would be happy. And that was all he could ever want.

[girlmadeofivory]

epiphany (Melissa McCall/Chris Argent)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DUnDkI7l9LQ

Gerard shook his head at Chris’s aim. “Again.”

Chris raised the gun, trying to stop his hands from shaking. The semi-automatic weapon felt too heavy in his hands. He was barely 16. He didn’t want to be able to take a life.

The next shot hit the target dead-center. Gerard smiled. Chris smiled back, feeling bile rise in his throat. The smile didn’t meet his eyes.

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

Chris adjusted Allison’s grip on her bow ever so slightly. “It’s important that you focus on your target. You’re distracted, and it’s messing with your aim.”

Allison nodded, wincing when the string of the bow cut into her fingers. She had forgotten her leather gloves in her locker. 

Chris handed his daughter his own gloves from the pocket of his jacket.

Allison smiled. “Thanks, dad.” His gloves were loose around her hands, and her brow furrowed a little in pain when she loaded her bow again. She was only 13, but Chris wanted to be the one to teach her. Before Gerard could.

“Just power through it.”

Keep your helmet, keep your life, son.

Just a flesh wound. Here’s your rifle.

Chris stood in the stark white halls of Beacon Hills Hospital, on the phone. “Hey, Allison, it’s me. I need you to come to the hospital.” 

His daughter hung up almost immediately, but as she did, he heard the door lock. She would be there soon. Chris peered through the window to where his wife’s body lay. For the millionth time, he cursed Gerard and his stupid anti-werewolf decrees. 

Allison ran into him, skidding a little on the shiny tile. “Where’s Mom?”

Chris shook his head, holding his daughter tightly. “She’s gone.”

Allison screamed, cursed, begged, sobbed. He couldn’t listen to it anymore. He just gripped her tighter. 

She looked up at him with teary eyes. “How?” Her voice broke over the word.

“She was bitten,” he whispered into her ear. “And it was the full moon last night. And-” 

Chris had intended to tell Allison about Gerard’s rules, about his blind hatred, but she cut him off. “I’ll kill him. The Hale. I’ll kill the whole damn pack.” And this time, her voice didn’t break. It was steely and sure and Chris was scared. Not of Allison, he could never be scared of her, but of what she might do for the sake of Gerard’s rules. And what it would do to her.

Crawling up the beaches now.

“Sir, I think he’s bleeding out.”

And some things you just can't speak about.

When Chris drove up to the battleground, he inexplicably knew something was wrong. He ran over to Scott where the boy sat on the ground, and-

Oh, God, no. There was blood around her mouth, and her chest was still. Scott sobbed over Allison’s body and for just a second, Chris felt his world shatter. No, not her, please, anything but that. And then another one of Scott’s sobs pulled Chris back into reality.

Chris kneeled next to Scott, putting his hand on the wolf’s shoulder. “Breathe, okay. Breathe. I’m calling 911. You tell them you called me first, okay? Get your pack out of here when they leave with her, I’ll take care of it. You just have to tell them you called me first, and then go home.” 

Scott nodded blankly, and Chris made the call. He turned away from the kids as tears threatened to spill over, but he bit his tongue and forced them back. Allison’s friends needed him. The ones she died for. He had to honor that.

With you, I serve, with you I fall down.

Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out.

_______________________________________________________________________

When the Stilinskis first brought Claudia in, Melissa assumed it was nothing. A routine checkup, or maybe a rough case of the flu. But then she was there again, and again, and when Melissa checked the files, she realized that her best friend outside of the hospital was dying. Not only that, but her mind was going, and that was almost more painful than watching her body wither and fail. 

Melissa did her best to support them. She brought over food when she had the time to cook, she invited Stiles over to her home to spend some time as a carefree kid, and she visited Claudia sometimes, after a long night shift when visiting hours were long over. 

The manager of the hospital had asked Melissa to pick up an extra shift once. Another nurse was attending his daughter’s wedding. Melissa had been all for it until she realized that it was Claudia’s floor. As much as she loved her friend, she didn’t trust herself to treat her. Treating friends and family was never a good idea, especially when she came home in the afternoon to see Stiles and Scott curled up on the couch together, Stiles sobbing into her son’s shoulder. 

Something med school did not cover:

Someone’s daughter, someone’s mother.

Melissa was working when Claudia died. The nurse had been at the front desk when she heard Stiles’ heartbroken shout, even from a floor below him. Mom. 

Melissa had grabbed another nurse, asked her to take over, and run up the stairs to Claudia’s room. Everything was silent in the hospital room. Stiles’ shoulders shook, and the Sheriff muffled his own cries into his son’s shoulder. 

She had a million things to say. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t say anything, scared to break the tension in the air. What do you say? I’m sorry, you don’t deserve this, she lived a good life, it’s no one’s fault. 

When Stiles and the Sheriff left for home, Melissa held the boy in her arms for a long moment. As she stood, she said, “Anything you need, come over. Any time, we’ll figure it out.”

Holds your hand through plastic now.

“Doc, I think she’s crashing out.”

And some things you just can’t speak about.

Melissa yawned, letting her head rest in her hand. She was sitting at the front desk of the emergency room, as she often did. It was exhausting to watch broken people drag themselves through the doors all day and night. Sometimes, as her vision blurred with tiredness, she would imagine Scott or Stiles, lying on a gurney, clothes soaked in blood, and jerk awake, heart racing. 

There was a lull in the ER, so she closed her eyes, pretending she was laying in her bed at home. Home, where everyone was safe. Where Scott and Stiles might be studying in a bedroom, where Isaac and Erica would play video games while Boyd made dinner for their little pack. Their little family. Derek might stumble in, streaks of dry blood on his shirt, and everyone would swarm around him to make sure he was okay. Because in their pack, they took care of each other. Maybe Derek would bring his sister, Cora. From what Melissa had heard about the youngest Hale, she guessed that Erica would get along beautifully with her. 

Maybe Lydia and Jackson would visit, too. They were barely pack at that point, but it was always nice to have them around. 

Only twenty minutes to sleep,

But you dream of some epiphany.

A light rap on the counter woke Melissa from her reverie. Scott and Isaac were smiling at her, holding a brown paper bag. 

“We brought you dinner. We didn’t want it to get cold, sorry for waking you up.” Isaac handed her the paper bag with a grin, his other hand woven through Scott’s.

The boys saw her eyes flick to their hands, and quickly disentangled themselves, looking away from her. 

Melissa offered a small smile. “I don’t mind, I just hoped you would tell me when you started dating again.”

Scott’s face lit up, and he kissed Isaac on the cheek. “I’m dating again.”

“Alright, boys, now go finish your homework and get some sleep. I’ll be home late again.”

The two teenagers left, holding hands much more comfortably, and Melissa allowed herself a moment of joy before returning to her work, eating as she reviewed patient files.

When she got home, Scott was sitting on the couch. She walked straight to him, dropping her purse on the ground, and pulled him into a hug. “I love you.”

Just one single glimpse of relief,

To make some sense of what you’ve seen.

_______________________________________________________________________

Chris lay in the hospital bed, breathing raggedly. He rasped out several ingredients before his eyes closed, and Melissa ran to find them. She quickly concocted the potion before spreading it over his wounds. They smoked, and Chris screamed, face contorted in pain. Melissa forced a rag between his teeth, muffling the noise. 

Several moments later, the lash marks had faded. Chris panted, trying to catch his breath. Melissa removed the rag and filled a glass of water, carefully pouring it into his mouth. 

Chris coughed weakly. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Melissa replied. “I’m just glad you’ll be okay.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead gently as he fell asleep.

With you, I serve, with you I fall down.

Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out.

Melissa was in the hospital. Melissa had been shot by hunters. Melissa was in the hospital. And Chris was a fucking mess. He hadn’t slept since he heard the news. Rather, he had climbed into his car and driven frantically back to Beacon Hills. Melissa was still asleep when he sat in the chair next to her bed, having received permission from one of her friends to stay past visiting hours.

Pain flooded Melissa’s body as she woke up in a hospital bed. What had happened before was hazy; she assumed her house had been shot up by hunters. Scott had asked her for advice, as he often did, and she had told him to fight back. Her chest throbbed over the bullet wound, but she would be okay. She had to be, for her son. For her pack.

“Melissa, thank God.” Chris reached out hesitantly to take her hand. “I was so scared, I thought… and after Veronica and Allison, I couldn't…” he trailed off, a couple of tears running down his face.

“Hey, I’m okay,” she whispered. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard about what happened and I-”

“I do appreciate it, really. But shouldn’t you be off saving the world?” Her lips quirked up into a playful smile.

Chris shook his head. “Not until my world is safe.” He bent down to kiss her before settling back into his seat. “I’ll be here when you wake up. Rest.”

With you, I serve, with you I fall down.

Watch you breathe in, watch you breathing out.

Melissa held Chris’s hand. They stood in the cemetery, staring at the Argent tombs. Veronica Argent; Allison Argent; Kate Argent; Gerard Argent. Chris didn’t bother checking the dates. They were carved into his mind already. 

“And then there was one.” Chris laughed, his voice hollow. “I can’t believe…”

Melissa held his hand. “I know.” 

Chris choked down a sob and Melissa held him. They stood there, by the graves, holding each other, for a long time. When the sky began to darken, Melissa led Chris to her car. 

“Let’s go home, okay? The kids will probably be there, and it would do you plenty of good to be around a dozen lively wolves.”

Chris nodded, and they headed back towards their home, towards their family.

---

Melissa was right; the entire pack had taken up residence in her house. Scott, Isaac, Mason, and Malia sat jammed together on the couch, Isaac on Scott’s lap. Derek, Stiles, Ethan, Jackson, and Lydia sat around the dining table, catching up with each other over a game of poker. Corey, Theo, and Liam were lying in a puppy pile on the living room floor.

Chris and Melissa walked in to scattered greetings and the smell of brownies baking. Chris raised an eyebrow at the mess, but Melissa just laughed. “Don’t worry, I make them clean everything up before they leave.”

They shared a smile and headed up to Melissa’s room, where they changed into pajamas and lay under the covers.

“Good night, Melissa.” Chris kissed her. “I love you.”

She smiled. “‘Night. I love you too.”

Only twenty minutes to sleep,

But you dream of some epiphany.

Just one single glimpse of relief,

To make some sense of what you’ve seen.

[emzalot]

What a Furry Ride

Chapter 11 Set in Episode 9

Author’s Note: Hello everyone. I know I’m extremely, extremely, extREMELY, late on this, again. I’m sorry. I’m in mourning right now as well as being a full-time student and trying to get my work done, and that’s all I’m going to say. Monday all class at the college are canceled so I’ll be working on the last part of chapter 8, part 4 and that will be it! After that I’m wanting to do a special chapter on Dani’s dreaded birthday celebration and Thanksgiving. Then we hit episode 10. Now for the people who are still following this story- Y’ALL ARE SOME TROOPERS! You’ve survived my months and months long hiatuses, I mean- I can’t even describe the amount of respect and gratitude and love I have for y’all. I love y’all so much now let’s get it!

Warngings: ANGST, heartbreak, sobbing, grab tissues if you’re soft

~~~~

Dani pulls into her driveway, parking her car at the top of the driveway. She sits there feeling drained, but oddly refreshed at the same time. She feels better now that she’s talked to Chris, but there’s so much more built up inside that she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She leans forward with a groan, dropping her head against the steering wheel. “I want…I don’t know” Dani murmurs to herself. She snorts at herself for her lack of words and thought process.She’s so overloaded with emotions she’s just gone blank. She can’t deal with anymore high stress situations today or else her lungs might start buffering. She lifts her head and purses her lips, zoning out. “I’ll just go inside” she murmurs after a moment.

Dani slides out of her car, bookbag in hand as she makes her way up to the front door. She fumbles with her keys, trying to push it into the lock except it’s not going in. “Wha-?” She looks down, seeing that she’s trying to unlock the door with her car key. “Oh...” she fumbles for the small gold key, mentally rolling her eyes at herself. “Come on, get it together” she whispers to herself as she unlocks the door. She steps inside, slipping her Vans off her feet before slowly ascending the stairs. Dani stops halfway up the stairs, slumping against the rail. She rests her head on her arm that’s gripping the rail and takes a few breaths. Her chest is getting tight again, like earlier. She slips her inhaler out of her pocket, inhaling a slow puff. She straightens up, dropping her head back with a groan. “I’m not gonna make it,” she says.

Dani reaches her door, her bookbag feeling so much heavier than it did when she got out of the car a few moments ago. She enters her room and finds a tall figure standing next to her bed and she screams, gripping the door frame for dear life. Her vision blurs as her lungs compress so fast it feels like she’s trying to suck air through a straw. Trembling in the doorway, the figure rushes toward her and she stumbles back into the hallway in fear. “Dani!” the voice calls. Derek? She isn’t getting enough oxygen even as she’s desperately gasping for air. Dani’s vision begins to fade rapidly. The last thing she remembers is the hallway spinning sideways and a dull pain in the back of her head

Derek curses under a breath as he drops to his knees beside Dani’s unconscious form. He couldn’t believe he just caused her to faint. “Dani?” He shoves her bag away from her and leans over her, gripping her shoulders. “Dani wake up!” the panic becomes evident in his voice as he gently shakes her. “Dani!” Nothing. His eyes frantically scan her face and down her body as he tries to think of what he needs to do. Her bed. He needs to get her to her bed. Derek gently gathers her in his arms. Looping his arms under her legs and her back, slowly curling her against his chest. Derek pushes off his knees, trying to stand. In that moment Dani’s consciousness returns and she grabs his shirt, eyes wide and alert. Derek freezes, keeping her on the hard-wood. 

Dani’s eyes are frantic as they search the person holding her until they land on his face. It’s Derek. Relief floods her entire body and she practically deflates against his chest. “Are you okay?” his voice is gentle, but she caught the fear laced in his words. Dani stares at her hand that’s bundled a portion of his shirt in a tight fist. Her mind feels scrambled, making it a struggle to form sentences now. She slowly shakes her head before resting her forehead against his chest. “Okay” Derek breathes. His hold on her tightens and he lifts her off the floor. Dani squeezes her eyes shut and holds the back of her head. A dull pain pulsing there causing her to groan and Derek freezes again. She must’ve smacked her head on the floor when she collapsed. He tries to swallow the lump forming in his throat and re-enters her bedroom. 

Derek slowly crosses the threshold, listening to Dani murmur incoherently. “Der…” Dani trails off, unable to complete his name. Derek looks down at her, watching the confusion flash across her face. He reaches the bed and carefully sets her down, as if she’d shatter if he wasn’t more careful. As soon as she’s on the mattress she slips out of consciousness again with her head lolling back. Derek’s entire body tenses as Dani goes limp in his arms. He didn’t dare move. His eyes remain on her face, hoping that she wakes up shortly like before.

After a few moments, nothing changes. Derek is still frozen like a statue, and Dani is still very unconscious. Derek hangs his head, letting out a sigh in defeat as his shoulders slump. He lays Dani back against the pillows, slipping her shoes off her feet and pulling the comforter up, tucking her in. Derek looks around the room, spotting a small recliner in the opposite corner and pulls it up next to the bed. Derek sits down quietly, propping his elbows on his knees. He stares at her gentle features, waiting. 

Derek is determined to not move until she wakes up. He’s not leaving her alone. Not for a second. Something is very wrong with her. He knows that for sure. She reeked of so many emotions it was too much to pick apart. Her chemo-signal was so strong and concentrated he could sense her emotions from the driveway. There’s so much going on he can only pin it as one thing: a broken heart. 

Derek has been there, he knows what that feels like. He hasn’t sensed such raw desperate emotion since he lost his family. Since he lost...her. He wants to know what happened, but he must wait. He must sit there, and stare at Dani, waiting for her to wake up. And it makes his blood boil. He wants to know who hurt her and why they did it, now. Why she’s feeling this way and attack the source. To make them pay. He hates the thought of someone going through something like this. Something like he felt all those years ago. Especially someone he cares about. Derek has never been a very patient person, but he’s willing to sit and wait for her.

As the seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into an hour, Derek’s mind wanders to a memory. It’s from a week before, on the night of the full moon after walking Scott home…

“I can’t do this,” Scott says. Derek stays quiet. “I can’t be this, and be with Allison,” Scott says. “I need you to tell me the truth...is there a cure?” Scott asks. “For someone who was bitten?...I’ve heard of one, I don’t know if it’s true,” Derek says. “Well, what is it?” Scott asks. Derek hesitates and looks off to the side for a moment. “You have to kill the one that bit you” he says.

Derek steps out onto the front porch, closing the door behind him. When he turns to face the driveway, he stops in his tracks. Dani’s standing next to her car, staring at him in complete utter shock. Her purse slips from her hands, hitting the concrete. Derek swallows hard, holding her gaze. “Derek…” she breathes out, her eyes like saucers. Derek dips his head in a small nod. Her lips slowly pull into a bright smile, her eyes watering as she stares at him. “Oh my God!” She shrieks, taking off, up the driveway. She runs up the steps, colliding with Derek a lot harder than she intended, but she doesn’t care. Her arms find their way around his torso, squeezing him tightly. 

Derek stands there, frozen, eyes wide. It’s his turn to be a deer in headlights. He takes in a deep breath, recovering from her small frame colliding into his. He’s not used to this sort of contact. It’s been so long he’s forgotten what it’s like. Feeling a strange swell in his heart, he slowly wraps his arms around her. He pulls her flush against his chest, feeling her relax into him along with the tears soaking into his shirt. He breathes in her joy that mingles with her scent, letting it overwhelm his senses.

Her scent is completely unique. It’s sweet like a perfume. Almost like sugar covered strawberries, but there’s a warmth that’s completely...her. His arms tighten around her, nuzzling into her hair as he memorizes her scent. He could certainly pick her out of a lineup. “You’re okay...you’re not dead” she whispers, burying her face in his chest. Derek lets himself smile against her hair and then he hears her groan. Groan?

Derek blinks, snapping back to reality. Dani groans into her pillow, shifting in her sleep. Oh. Derek slides to the edge of the seat, watching Dani slowly come to. Dani rolls onto her side scrunching her nose for a moment. Her eyes slowly flutter open, finding Derek’s. “Hi” she breathes out. Derek stares at her with an unreadable expression. Dani studies his face, the memories from before she fainted returning to her. Dani slowly sits up. Derek rises out of the chair, helping her. She swings her legs out from under the covers, her toes brushing against the carpet. Her nose is a few inches away from his. “What happened?” she asks. “You passed out” Derek answers. Dani nods and chews her lip for a moment. She meets his gaze. It’s intense to say the least. She has the feeling that he knows something’s wrong. The look in his eyes makes it seem like he knows exactly what was going on and that makes her uneasy. She takes in a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair, thinking. “I’m guessing you’re...hiding out here?” she asks. Derek nods, “For a while.” Dani nods, running her tongue along her bottom lip.

Derek stares at her expectantly. He rakes his eyes over her face again, studying every little movement. The aching in her heart becomes evident in the fear wafting from her pores. She’s afraid to talk. Derek sighs, caving. He just wants to know what’s going on. “Are you okay?” Dani’s heart practically stops. There’s no way she’s going to lie to him, but she just doesn’t want to go there. She’s spent the whole day trying to bury it all. Cocking her head to the side, she changes the subject. “Do you remember what I said about the next time you came over?” she asks. 

Derek clenches his jaw, his eyes burning into hers. He knows what she’s doing. He knows she can’t keep this all bottled up, but she’s too stubborn for her own good. “To use the door” he answers, playing along. “Uh-huh” Dani gives a nod, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek. Dani stands up and stretches. “I’m gonna...change” she says. She needs to create some distance between her and Derek. There’s this thing he does with his eyes, the way he stares at her that makes her want to just gush to him and that scares her. She’s never been that vulnerable with someone before. 

Dani walks over to her closet, feeling his eyes on her. She sighs as she sifts through her shirts, biting her lip. She doesn’t want to talk about it. Because if she starts, she won’t stop. It will all come out in the open, at his feet and she shudders at the thought. It terrifies her. Dani pulls a large long sleeve and a pair of grey leggings and slips into the bathroom before Derek could get a word out. She doesn’t want to talk. She doesn’t want to hear his words. Feel his stares, his eyes. God his eyes are so intense and they’re so hard to get away from. She quickly slips into her more comfortable outfit and exits the bathroom throwing her jeans and t-shirt on the floor.

Dani glances at Derek, catching his eyes. She quickly adverts her gaze, tucking a strand behind her ear as she moves over to her book bag. Dani digs through the front of her bag and pulls out her charger. She plugs it into the wall by her bed and attaches her phone to the other end, dropping it on the bed. “We’re home alone right now so...we don’t have to stay in here the whole ti-” Dani cuts herself off when she turns back around, her stomach drops at the sight.

There’s Derek, standing in the middle of the room. In one hand are her jeans and the other are the bracelets. If Dani could will herself to just die right there on the spot she would. The pain, the anger, the sadness, rising in her throat all at once. She feels like she can barely breathe. Dani’s eyes fill with tears as she stares at the bracelets in his hand. Specifically, the one cut in half. Derek lifts his head to meet her eyes. He finds the pain he sensed from her earlier. Derek’s gaze softens considerably. She looks like she’s about to fall apart.

Dani draws in a deep breath, smoothing her hands over the curve of her hips, letting out a heavy sigh. She doesn’t want to talk, but the sad fact about this entire thing is that Derek is the only person she can talk to. She can’t talk to her mom or Allison for that matter, because they don’t know about Scott being a werewolf. She couldn’t completely open up to Chris because if he knew about Scott that could put everyone in danger. She couldn’t talk to Scott or Stiles because she simply doesn’t want to.

Dani moves over to her bed and sits down, staring at the floor. “I-” Dani closes her eyes, dropping her head in her hands. As Dani runs her hands through her hair, Derek pulls the chair over in front of her and he sits, carefully studying her. She rubs her face, struggling to swallow the ball of emotions that seems to be lodged in her throat. She can’t take it. Dani opens her eyes, finding Derek’s boring into hers. They’re so intense and striking and captivating. “I grew up with sisters…And if something happened, or they were upset...I would come into their room, they’d sit on their bed like you are right now and I’d sit with them and stare at them until they started talking.”

A soft smile tugs at the corners of Dani’s lips. She can see him doing that. It warms her heart, thinking of him as an affectionate older brother, checking on his sisters and wanting them to open up. It brought him into a new light and explained a few things about his character. “Did they cave?” she asks. “Eventually” he says. Dani gives a small smile, holding his gaze. “This is your way of telling me you’re not leaving me alone isn’t it?” she asks. Derek slowly nods. Dani returns the nod, her eyes falling to his hands. 

Dani takes in a shaky breath, her vision blurring with tears. She reaches forward, taking the bracelets from his hand. Dani lets out that breath in a rush, struggling to keep herself together as she stares down at the bracelets in her hand. Derek leans in closer, his eyes gently fixed on her pained expression as he slides his fingers around the back of her knee. He runs his thumb back and forth across the side of her kneecap, trying to coax her into talking. He’s figured out the physically touching her tends to put her at ease. He only hopes that it works this time. 

The warmth of his hand pulls a soft whimper from Dani, her stubborn resolve crumbling down inside her. Her hands start to shake as she stares at the bracelets. She sniffles, tucking some hair behind her ear. She can’t do this anymore. Dani lifts her head, finding Derek’s eyes much softer than they were before. He almost looks worried. Dani takes a deep breath and nods, dropping her eyes to the bracelets once more. “Okay…okay…” she whispers.

“Jackson knows about Scott.” Derek remains very still, his posture tensing slightly. “I don’t know how, but he knows. He’s been coming after Scott for a while, but now he’s blackmailing him. He wants the bite and he’s threatening to tell Allison and her family or something like that if he doesn’t figure out a way to turn him.”

“I know that Scott’s not a kid anymore...And I’ve tried so hard to leave it alone and let him fight his own battles, but Jackson’s gone way too far. Today, me and Jackson got into it and he does this-” Dani’s voice cracks as she opens her hand, holding up the bracelets. 

“We made these friendship bracelets in third grade! And he got so upset about me not telling him about Scott and how I’m an awful friend and he cuts his bracelet, telling me it’s over and he doesn’t want me in his life anymore!” Dani continues sobbing, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. “I just can’t believe I’m being punished for something my brother didn’t even want in the first place!” 

Dani reaches for her inhaler and wipes her eyes as another sob escapes her. She sniffles and inhales two puffs, feeling her body relax instantly. She wipes her eyes again and shakes her head. “Now I’m dehydrated” Dani stands up, taking a deep breath before heading for the door. Derek follows her out into the hallway and down the stairs. “And after all that-” Dani says, entering the kitchen. She moves over to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water before continuing. 

“Like a sad little puppy, I run to the Argent’s house.” She takes a swig of the water, setting the bottle down on the table in the center of the kitchen. “And I gush to Chris, about me and Jackson’s friendship breakup, expecting him to play daddy.” Dani sets the bracelets on the table. “And he did…” Derek stands in the doorway of the kitchen, quietly. His gaze soft as he absorbs her words.

“He asked me this question...He said, ‘Do you think a part of why you are so upset is because of your father?’...Boy did he nail that right on the head…” she says. Dani pushes off the table, facing Derek. “When I was little...My father was everything to me. He was my whole world...He did everything with me. Every day was special...He loved me and Scott more than anything.” Dani takes a deep breath, moving around to the end of the table. “When I was eight years old, his mother and his sister died in a car accident...And that’s when he started drinking…”

“Once he started, he didn’t stop. He was either drunk or hungover, there was no in between. He never played with me or Scott…It was like we didn’t even exist most of the time. He’d scream at my mom...” Dani’s voice cracks as a tear slides down her cheek. “I was so young...I just couldn’t understand why my papa didn’t want to be with me anymore, why he didn’t want to spend time with me anymore...why he was always so angry at us.” Dani sniffles, her vision so blurred with tears. 

“I remember...I remember wanting to show him this drawing I made for him and... And I accidentally knocked over his beer.” Dani says softly, the memory playing in her head. “He just...erupted. I was so scared I couldn’t move. I started crying and he...and he...hit me.” Derek’s entire body goes rigid. Dani pushes the strand of hair by her left ear out of the way, revealing a small pink scar by her ear. “His class ring did that.” Derek stares at the scar, an icy chill settling in his bones. He couldn’t understand how a man could put his hands on his daughter. 

“Mom saw...she told me to run and I did. I could hear their fight all the way upstairs. The screaming, slamming doors, and all the crashing and breaking...I woke up the next morning and he was gone.” Dani lets out a heavy sigh. “If Jackson wants to leave, I won’t stop him. I’m not gonna beg him to stay. If he wants to walk out, he can go...I mean, my dad did.” 

Dani scoffs, running a hand through her hair. “It’s not like I’m still nine years old, staying up every night and asking my mom ‘When is papa coming home?’ Who needs him? I don’t, Scott doesn’t, mom sure as hell doesn’t! He wasn’t there to teach me how to take care of Scott, but I learned didn’t I? I got through my first breakup without him! I learned how to drive, how to handle boys, how to stand up for myself without him! I had nine great birthdays without him! He’s never sent a card, no letter, no nothing, so TO HELL WITH HIM!” Dani screams, throwing her water bottle at the wall. 

Derek lowers his head. He felt her pain. The brokenness, the anger, and sadness that’s been radiating from her so intensely has seeped into him. He’s so shocked and overwhelmed by Dani’s childhood he can’t even speak. He can barely wrap his head around the fact that these things were a reality for her. Dani inhales a puff from her inhaler, trying to calm down, but her emotions have gotten the best of her. She’s held all of this in for so long and she just can’t do it anymore. It all hurts so bad. Every year since he left, she’s gone out to the mailbox on her birthday, hoping to find something. Hoping that he might care to send his baby girl something on her birthday, but it was always empty. 

Dani turns around, facing Derek with tears streaming down her face. “Why doesn’t he want me?” She whimpers. A broken sob rips from Dani’s throat and she crumbles to the floor. Derek quickly drops down next to her, pulling her against his chest and enveloping her in his arms. Dani sobs against his chest, holding onto him so tightly as if he’d disappear if she let go. Dani’s cries shake Derek to his core. His arms tighten around her and gently rocks from side to side. “Don’t leave” Dani croaks. “Please don’t go away” she sobs. “I’m not going anywhere” he whispers into her hair. Derek presses a kiss on her forehead as she dissolves into her heartache in his arms.​

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @snazzysterek!

I hope you enjoy this!

Read on AO3

*****

ready to start

“Goddammit,” Stiles said, and kicked back on his wheelie chair, banging into the wall of his shared office.

“What,” Isaac said, not even bothering to lift his head up from where he had it cradled on his arms, as he clicked through the latest issue of PNAS.

“R is not cooperating and I just need to get this analysis done before I can go home for the weekend,” Stiles whined, turning his chair around and poking Isaac’s head. “I need your R skills, man, help me out.”

“It’s 4:45 on a Friday,” Isaac said, shaking his head and dislodging Stiles’ hand. “My brain’s already offline. Why don’t you go get a drink and start the weekend early?”

“Ugh, but I just want to get this done,” Stiles said, and stared at his computer, willing R to just automatically glean what he wanted to do and put pretty graphs on his screen. “Finstock’s gonna kill me if I tell him that I’m still analyzing my data for the third week in a row.”

“Finstock’s out next week, remember? He’s going to that conference in England.”

Stiles…had completely forgotten.

“I love you, Isaac,” he said, patting Isaac’s curls even as Isaac snapped at his fingers like an overgrown puppy, and speedwalked out of the office, heading over to the shared cold room on the other side of the floor.

Technically, the cold room was only supposed to hold actual biological samples. Practically, however, it also held a stash of various beers and ciders and other drinks that was routinely restocked by the grad students and side-eyed by the undergrads. There was also a protocol in place for whenever Environmental Health and Safety decided to pop in for a surprise visit – the beer bottles would go in the drawers next to Isaac’s desk, the ciders in Stiles’ drawers, and the beer cans in Harley’s desk in the office she shared with Erica down the hall. So far, it had never failed them. The only time they’d gotten a warning from EHS was when someone (read: Isaac) had left a half-full can of beer on the very back of one of the shelves, which had started collecting some unknown mold, and no one had wanted to touch it so it had stayed there, growing more and more sentient with each passing day until EHS made them take it out. A pity, because Harley had been ready to take it away and figure out what species it actually was.

The point was, there were drinks in the cold room, and they were good. Perfect way to start off a Friday evening, or alternatively, drown your sorrows when your paper got rejected for the nth time. Not that Stiles was speaking from personal experience or anything!

Anyway, Stiles was really looking forward to trying some of the green apple cider Harley had brought earlier this week, and the thought propelled him forward to the cold room. He hummed tonelessly under his breath, ready to think about everything else other than his research for the night, but then he opened the door to the cold room, flipped on the lights, and froze in sheer horror.

The shelves which usually held the drinks were completely empty, except for two measly cans of PBR. There was absolutely no sign of any of the other drinks, not even the half-empty thing of boxed wine that had been sitting there for half a month and was probably undrinkable by now.

“What,” Stiles said, “the fuck.”

He took in the scene with narrowed eyes, and then turned on his heel and stomped out. It was time to investigate.

It being Friday evening, the hallways were fairly deserted, and Stiles was pretty sure the weedy undergrads he saw comparing notes on some exam or the other weren’t the culprits. For one, their backpacks were definitely not big enough to hide a whole bunch of cider in, let alone the beer.

He stalked past them, ignoring their wide eyes and furrowed brows, and slammed open the door to his office (then closed it gently because probably the undergrads should not be privy to this conversation).

“Isaac!” he snapped. “What the hell happened to the drinks?”

“The drinks in the cold room?” Isaac said, spinning around on his chair, making the perfect impression of the surprised Pikachu face. “I haven’t done anything to them. Are they not there?”

“No!” Stiles resolutely did not wail. “Everything’s gone, even that gross old boxed wine!”

Isaac switched from surprised Pikachu face to his favorite grimace. Stiles sighed, and reminded himself to finally print out that “No Emotional Journeys!” sign and pin it up on his desk.

“Okay, well, there’s two PBRs left but we all know PBR is the drink of the devil,” Stiles amended, and Isaac waggled his eyebrows at him.

“A drink’s a drink, dude,” he said. “We can figure out where the rest of the drinks went later, just go get yourself one before those disappear too.”

Stiles groaned and gave in, heading back to the cold room. The undergrads had migrated to right across the office door, but Stiles didn’t care if they’d been eavesdropping. This was a serious problem! Pesky undergrads could shove it until he had an awful, awful beer in his hand…awful beers that had also disappeared from the cold room in the few minutes he’d been gone.

He resisted the urge to rattle the shelves. He was an adult, he was a graduate student, he was not going to whine about a missing PBR of all things. He slunk out of the room, debating whether to go see if the mice labs two floors down had any drinks hidden away, or if it was wiser just to give up and go home.

Going down to the mice labs had mostly won out when Stiles spotted two figures that had just turned the corner and were walking down the hallway, away from him. He recognized Scott’s end-of-the-day rumpled hair immediately, and was ready to go complain to him when he also registered the can he was holding, hidden in a violently red koozie, but definitely the same size as the missing PBRs. Stiles didn’t recognize the other person with him, but they also had a koozie in their hand – two cans. He couldn’t believe it, but it must be true – Scott had taken the PBRs from the cold room. The outrage!

“Scott!” Stiles yelled. Scott turned around, classic goofy grin on his face, but it faded as he saw Stiles barreling down the hallway towards him.

“What—,” he managed to get out before Stiles ran into him and started tugging on his drink.

“Scott, how could you do this to me! I thought we were bros!” Stiles said, knowing he was coming off as very strange but at this point, he was too far gone to care. “You pillaged the last drink!”

Scott tugged his drink back but Stiles refused to let go, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Scott’s mysterious companion take a slow step back.

“And!” he said, letting the drink go abruptly in favor of using his hands to gesture at the Mysterious Companion, while still keeping his gaze on Scott’s startled face. “And you bring this random person in and give them a drink instead of saving it for me?? You’re flagrantly violating the rules of our friendship, man!”

Scott stumbled back a couple steps and then raised his hands. “Stiles, I think you’ve got the wrong idea, dude.”

“I’d like to see you explain your way out of this!” Stiles said, agitatedly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“The hell, Stiles, you know I stopped drinking like a year ago! This is just a La Croix!”

“Oh,” Stiles said, pausing. “Oh, yeah. I did know that.”

“Yeah, oh. I think you need to explain to me what exactly is happening and why you’re freaking out.”

“Uh, so,” Stiles began, glancing around as he finally let his brain slow down a little. The undergrads from earlier were huddled in a corner, and he was sure he saw one of them rapidly typing away on his phone. Probably live-tweeting his breakdown, titled “saw my TA having a breakdown, just another day in college.”

“So?” Scott said.

“Okay, so Isaac made me go to the cold room for drinks but there were no drinks! Like none, Scott, everything was gone except for these two cans of PBR and I went back to check with Isaac if he knew what had happened, and he said he didn’t, but by the time I came back to get the PBRs they were gone anyway!” Stiles blurted out, hands moving everywhere to emphasize the dire straits he was in. “The entire stash is gone without a trace, Scott, it’s so bad!”

He took a breath and then added, “Also, what the hell, you’re drinking La Croix? At least get a Coke or something man, you know La Croix tastes like someone vaguely described fruit to an alien.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know, but we got them at this vet school mixer thing we were at and free stuff is free stuff. But okay – I see why you’re so stressed, but don’t worry, we’re here, we’re going to solve this mystery!”

Stiles grinned as they both fistbumped. Scott always came through.

A polite cough interrupted them and Stiles whirled around, remembering the Mysterious Companion.

“Oh!” Scott said. “This is Derek! He’s a PhD student in like the history department, and he was at the mixer because he wanted to talk to some vets about canines but anyway—” Scott waved his hand in the air. “Long story. Point is, he’s cool! Derek, this is Stiles! You know how I study gut microbiota? Stiles’ advisor is actually my co-advisor, that’s how we became friends!”

Some tiny part of Stiles’ brain noted that Scott was grinning and still prattling on about how he and Stiles became best bros for life, but the rest of it was focused mostly on Mysterious Companion Derek, and his green eyes and glasses and dark hair and solid body and the hint of a smile on his face, and the shirt that made a stupid joke about Shakespeare and also made his arms look very nice. Then he had the abrupt realization that he had just massively embarrassed himself in front of this very beautiful man and his stomach turned itself into a pretzel.

“Okay very nice to meet you but I just remembered I have a thing. In lab. That I have to do like immediately. Sorry see you later!” Stiles said, turned on his heel, and zoomed down to his office, even as Scott called his name. He could feel the heat coming off his face. It was time to die in a ditch.

“It is time to die in a ditch,” he said as soon as he was securely in the office and safe from eavesdropping undergrads and grads. He had his face to the door in the hopes that it would cool him down, but when he got no response from Isaac, he turned around to face an empty office.

“Dammit,” he said, and saw the bright yellow post-it on Isaac’s old Dell. Erica says she’s going to get drinks from somewhere (don’t ask), see you in the lounge at 5:30!! it read, and Stiles sighed. At least he could now successfully drown his sorrows in a drink, even if it wasn’t the green apple cider he had been looking forward to.

At 5:35, he was in the lounge with a non-PBR beer in his hand, and retelling his extremely embarrassing experience to Isaac.

“In conclusion, it is time to die in a ditch,” he said, winding up his story. Isaac just laughed at him, stuck another beer in his hand, and then pushed him towards Erica and Harley who had probably overheard most of Stiles’ sorry story.

“They’re having another argument about what the best model organism is,” he said. “Why don’t you go join in, it’ll make you feel better.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” Stiles mumbled, but his heart wasn’t in it. Damn Isaac for knowing him too well. The argument would make him feel better. He drained his beer and went to preach the awesomeness of Drosophila to the plebes who hadn’t seen the light yet.

Two beers later, Stiles was flushed red again, but for a much better reason this time.

“C’mon, Drosophila have such a large suite of genetic tools! Can you even get optogenetic strains in zebrafish? I bet you can’t, they’re just transparent little fish!” he said, waving his pile of peeled off beer labels and scattering the pieces everywhere.

“You don’t even use optogenetic strains!” Erica said, swinging her own bottle of beer around. “That’s an invalid argument!”

“I don’t now, but I might in the future! What if I want to do like, optogenetic strains of gut bacteria—” Stiles said, blatantly making up stuff, and then stopped as his hand smacked against a solid object and dropped even more bits of paper everywhere.

He looked up and gulped. The solid object was Derek’s chest, clad in that Shakespeare shirt, and attached to the rest of his body. Derek, who he’d been avoiding ever since he saw him enter the lounge with Scott (which by extension meant avoiding Scott too, but sacrifices had to be made). Derek, who had seen Stiles make an absolute fool of himself not even an hour ago, and who now had paper bits on his shoes.

“Sorry, uh, hi,” he said, trying his best not to sound like an idiot who had been ranting about zebrafish. He could feel the flush climbing up his cheeks, and not for the first time, cursed his unbelievably pale skin.

“No, I’m sorry – am I interrupting?” Derek said, sounding almost shy. He was holding onto the can of La Croix he was still nursing with a white-knuckled grip.

“Oh, you’re not at all,” Harley’s cheerful, conniving voice chimed in before Stiles could say anything. He turned to her with a betrayed look, in time to see her wink at him and grab Erica’s arm. “You and Erica are both wrong, by the way. Obviously the best model organism is C. elegans. Bow down to the worm, dude. Also, we have to go now, have fun!”

Stiles gaped as she and Erica walked away giggling, abandoning him in his time of need. He was about to chase after them with a half-assed excuse when Derek reached out and lightly touched his shoulder. It felt like a static shock to Stiles’ entire system, but in a good way, and he swung his gaze to Derek’s equally startled face.

“So,” Derek said. “We didn’t really get time to introduce ourselves or talk earlier…”

“Yeah, haha,” Stiles said automatically, manners kicking in. “I’m Stiles, but you already knew that.”

Derek smiled at him without rancor and Stiles’ heart legitimately skipped a beat. “And I’m Derek, but you knew that too. So…” he said again, and trailed off.

Stiles’ tongue felt like it was tied into a hundred knots and he desperately wanted to say something so charming that the conversation would start flowing immediately, or alternatively, a perfectly timed excuse to leave. He caught Scott’s eye over Derek’s shoulder and Scott, the traitor, immediately turned around and started talking to Isaac.

He was so caught up in wallowing in the callousness of everyone around him that he almost missed Derek saying, “…what’s a model organism, really?”

“Oh man,” he blurted out and resisted the urge to smack his mouth shut. “Do you really want to get into this right now?”

“Hit me,” Derek said, and his smile tilted up into a smirk. Stiles grinned back, feeling warmth kindle in his chest, and launched into his love for fruit flies.

One empty can of La Croix and another beer bottle later, they were still talking, the conversation flowing easier and in a much stranger direction than Stiles could have ever imagined.

“Okay, but vampires could totally be real, just think about it,” Derek was saying. “You’re a biologist, you know vampire bats are a thing, why not actual vampires?”

“…fair,” Stiles said. “Plus I guess the whole thing with people drinking other people’s blood to stay young. Humans are a strange species. But I still disagree with you on werewolves. No way could werewolves be a thing – where the hell would all the mass go? Wolves are freaking huge!”

Derek slashed his hand through the air in a dismissive gesture, but Stiles saw the smile twinkling in his eyes. “Just attribute it to the magic! You can buy into the shapeshifting concept but you draw a line at conservation of mass?”

“Shapeshifting is fine if you’re still the same mass afterwards, so humans could turn into like, I don’t know, a giant were-sun bear. I would be totally fine with that!”

Derek snorted, and then started chuckling outright. “Sorry I just – a giant were-sun bear? That’s the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

The warmth in Stiles’ chest, that had been growing through the entire conversation, sparked up even more at the sound of Derek’s genuine laughter. He stared, grinning like an idiot, and as Derek’s laughter calmed down, they both just looked at each other, smiles in their eyes and on their mouths.

A careful cough finally tore their gazes away from each other. Scott gave them a sheepish look.

“I didn’t want to interrupt, but it’s almost 8,” he said, and Stiles’ eyes widened. He surreptitiously checked his phone and yup, Scott was right, it was a quarter to 8. He’d been talking to Derek for nearly two hours. “Maybe you guys should….go somewhere else?”

He grinned at Stiles, mischief in his eyes, and Stiles tried his best to not roll his eyes back. Scott was a bro but he was also not subtle.

“There’s this Thai restaurant I really like,” Derek said, reaching out to get Stiles’ attention back. The same jolt of energy ran through both of them at the contact, leaving Stiles mildly breathless again, and he looked up into Derek’s hopeful eyes. “We could continue this there?”

Stiles smiled, and said, “Hell yeah, dude. I still have to convert you to the fruit fly side, after all.”

Derek beamed. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. I still have to convert you to the werewolf side, too.”

Stiles laughed, and grabbed Derek’s hand impulsively, pulling him to the exit. Scott gave him a huge thumbs-up (that Derek definitely saw) but Stiles just smiled again, his chest warm and light, and let himself soak in the way Derek easily followed him.

[mummybear]

How Things Change - Part 13 - Calm Down

Words: 3335

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Alex (OC), Derek Hale, Scott McCall, Melissa McCall, Alan Deaton, Sheriff Stilinski, Deucalian, Peter Hale, Alan Deaton, Chris Argent, Mentions Theo Raeken, Tracy Stewart think that’s it 

Warnings: Swearing, emotional pain, think that’s it 

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Alex (OC)

It had been what felt like forever when Stiles looked up again, his once bright eyes were now rimmed with red lines, and were a dull brown in comparison to usual. For what felt like the hundredth time Stiles' eyes flitted over to the clock on the wall, praying that some considerable time had passed. There once again it proved him wrong, only another hour had passed since Deaton and Melissa had fixed up Alex's mother, and the room had remained silent since.

Derek was asleep at Alex's bedside, still clutching at her hand just like Stiles was on the other side. The trouble was that Stiles hadn't stopped thinking about what had happened back at that house. Why had Peter even been there in the first place, and why stab Alex's mother? The way that Alex had told him that Peter had spoken about her mother, it just sounded like he was still in love with her.

Stiles just couldn't wrap his head around any of it, it made no sense at all. Not even how Alex had managed to get hold of that knife in the first place, and because she can't tell him where she got the knife, Stiles had no way of finding the person and asking how to reverse the effects. He had to do something, he couldn't just sit here.

He looked up at Alex, her skin had become an ashen white colour, the colour had completely drained from her beautiful face. Her hair was matted with her and her mother's blood. Her clothes were ripped and covered dark red now crusted blood, in fact, if her chest weren't rising and falling right in front of him then he might've thought that she was dead already.

Stiles gently pried her hand from his, laying it down gently at her side. Pushing sweaty hair from her face he tried to smile down at her, but simply found a tear rolling down his cheek.

Carefully Stiles pressed his lips to her pale chapped ones, wincing a little as the cut on his lip stung slightly on contact. He checked the room was still quiet as he cupped her cheek lightly, "I'm so sorry this happened to you, baby girl. I promised I would keep you safe, I couldn't even do that right" Stiles huffed out a humourless laugh, pushing down the sob that was threatening to burst out. "I promise you this though. They will pay for this. Just wake up okay, when I come back you better be awake. Because I can't live this life that was meant for both of us all alone. I love you so much, I need you, Lexi, you are my entire life" Stiles whispered the last part, resting his forehead against hers, as his tears continued to fall.

With a final kiss to her lips, Stiles got up and pulled on his hoodie, before feeling Alex's blood soaking one of his sleaves. He sighed sadly, tossing the hoodie back onto his chair.

A final glance back at Alex and Stiles was heading out of the doors, careful not to be spotted by Melissa and Deaton, who were sitting and having coffee not far away from him. Luckily for Stiles, he was stealthy if nothing else, managing to slip from the clinic seemingly unnoticed.

For the first time in a long time, Stiles felt alone, feeling more anger inside himself than he had ever felt, in fact, he wasn't even sure if it was even all his own or not, but that didn't matter right now.

The moment that Stiles stepped outside, he was hit in the face by the ice cold air, making him suck in a breath, realising just how much different it was, to how it had been just nights before. "Shit" Stiles muttered, rubbing at his arms, with the cold air nipping at his skin. I was really wishing that he had brought a spare hoodie but none the less, he continued skirting around the cars, careful not to set off any alarms.

Once he was clear of the cars Stiles decided to head home quick, to check on his dad and grab something warmer to wear. As he jogged home his thoughts drifted back to Alex. Was she worse off with him being her mate, was she in more danger? The same problem was on his mind, should he leave, would she be safer without him or in more danger than ever?

"Ugh! Who am I kidding? I couldn't leave her even if I wanted to. I'm such a selfish asshole! I can't even let the woman I love go so that she'll be safe. Grow some balls Stilinski" Stiles scolded himself hatefully, but he was soon distracted by those thoughts, his feet skidding to a stop before he fully rounded the next corner.

"What the hell?" he wondered aloud, a little louder than he wanted, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth as he darted down a nearby alleyway, poking his head out carefully from around the corner. He hadn't even consciously noticed he had been running this way to his house.

He watched as three or four big guys emerged from Alex's house, they were each carrying several large boxes. Stiles strained to hear what they were saying, surprised when for the first time it seemed to work, "Get those in the back and be careful! The boss wants this all back now" the larger of the guys called to them all, Stiles frowned with no clue what the hell they could possibly want that Alex and her mother could have.

"What about the Stilinski kids house?" a different one asked, looking at the large guy and Stiles felt his heartbeat increase rapidly, while it also sank in his chest.

Stiles' hands clamped into fists as he waited for them to get in the damn car, but the next words had Stiles stopping any movement, as he felt his blood run cold "Keep your damn voice down! There's already a team there, now move!" the large guy hissed to all of them, pushing the smaller one into the back seat.

Stiles turned on his heal, running as fast as his feet would carry him, "No, no, no. Please, don't be at home dad" Stiles practically begged under heavy laboured breathing, running as fast as his feet would carry him, seriously glad to have his wolf advantages right now.

When Stiles finally turned the corner to his house, he turned his attention to the driveway, almost falling backwards when he did. His dad's sheriff car was parked in the driveway. He scanned the front of the house, a few unusual cars parked nearby, and one of the worst things, the door had been kicked in.

Making sure he was listening carefully he began to approach his house, listening out for one voice alone, but he was met by nothing but hushed whispers that sounded nothing like his dad, he needed to get closer.

The cold that Stiles had felt earlier had been completely forgotten, as he carefully and quietly edged closer to the front door. Suddenly he picked up a voice as it started to get closer, Stiles darted behind a car hoping he hadn't been seen. "Did you deal with the mother?" a deep voice asked, it was one that Stiles didn't recognise.

Hearing the next voice Stiles had to stop himself from running out from behind the car, although he wasn't even a little surprised that he was here. "Of course I did. Now when do I get what I was promised?" Peter asked with an irritated edge to his voice.

Stiles stuck his head up over the car slightly, still hidden but now he could just about see the two interacting as they walked out of his house. "You'll get it when we get what we want" the man replied to Peter simply, walking away from him without acknowledging the angry shouts from him.

'What the hell do they want?' Stiles found himself thinking, but he was distracted from that thought with someone hissing his name behind him.

Chris popped out from his hiding place down the side of the house across the street, Stiles made sure the coast was clear, seeing or hearing no sign of his father and headed over to Chris. The older man grabbed hold of stiles as soon as he was close enough, pulling him down the side of the building with him. "He's safe. Don't worry, we got here before they did. He's with Scott and Deucalion" Chris told Stiles in a hushed whisper, immediately Stiles relaxed somewhat.

"Wait. How did you know that they were coming here? On the same point who the hell are they?" Stiles asked, rushing his words a little too much.

"Come on. We need to move, I'll explain on the way" Chris replied calmly, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder. "Damn Stiles, you're freezing," Chris remarked feeling the cold of Stiles' skin beneath his shirt.

"Part of the reason I was going home, but then all that. Look it doesn't matter, what the hell is going on?" Stiles replied rubbing his hands over his arms, he'd forgotten about being cold until now.

"My truck is just around the corner, come on we can talk inside" Chris replied as they walked together quietly, Stiles just nodded with a thoughtful look on his face. "How's Alex?" Chris asked suddenly, at the mention of her name Stiles stopped walking and turned to look at the older man.

Stiles shrugged as a lump formed his throat, "Yeah, not so good. At least not when I left" Stiles replied his voice rougher than usual, as he tried to hide the sadness there. Before Chris could reply Stiles started walking again as he muttered to himself. "If she dies it'll be on me. I should have kept her safe, I mean it's not even the first time she's been in this position" Stiles growled, his eyes glowing and his fists clenching in anger.

"Take it from me, Stiles, none of this is your fault, you didn't ask for this. Neither of you did, you're both just doing the best you can with what you've been given. You realise that Alex would hate you talking like this right?" Chris said carefully, not wanting to upset the new wolf as he unlocked his truck.

"Yeah, I guess so" Stiles sighed unconvinced, as the pair hopped in the truck. "So back to the problem, what the hell is going on here? And how the hell is Peter involved?" Stiles asked sounding exhausted, turning to face Chris after pulling on his seatbelt.

Chris sighed as he pulled away from where they had been parked, trying to think of the best way to tell Stiles everything he knew. "These guys they're working for someone, we're still trying to find out exactly who. But we do know that they want you and Alex, possibly even Scott. They're after unique wolves for their pack. They're collecting some of yours and Alex's stuff, partly in case that you both agree to with them, but we think it mainly for your DNA, to find out what makes you tick and why you are connected the way you are. You with me so far?" Chris asked with a frown, noticing the way that Stiles' mouth had dropped open wider with every word he said.

"Okay. What?!" Stiles exclaimed throwing his hands in the air, a look of disbelief and shock covering his face.

Chris held up his hand in front of Stiles before he could say another word, "Just listen and stay calm. I know it's a lot to take in, but you need to know. I wish that was it, but there's more. We think they've lied to Peter, there's this old folk law about different ways to become an alpha. From what we know after Deucalion's research and occasional spying. Peter has been assured if he kills his first love and the mother of his first born, along with a true alpha under a full moon then he can take Scott's title from him" Chris explained trying to stay calm himself, but Stiles could hear the panic in his voice.

"Son of a bitch! What is it with that guy and being an alpha! He needs to be stopped, nothing and no one with ever be more important to him than that! But they're lying right?" Stiles practically shouted, until his final thought left his lips.

"We don't know for certain, but we believe he's being played, yes. That being said, the research we've turned up is a little wishy-washy in that area. We're still working on it, but it's just time we don't have. I made sure Deaton was informed on everything before I came looking for you, so hopefully, he can turn something up as well" Chris replied a little irritated he didn't have something more helpful for the poor guy, right as he pulled up outside the underground bunker where he was keeping Tracy and Theo safely locked up.

Stiles dropped down out of the truck the moment that it came to a stop. Chris was right behind him, locking up his truck as Stiles pulled out his phone.

"You go in. I'm just gonna check in with Melissa and Deaton, See if Alex has woken up yet" Stiles muttered distractedly, Chris just nodded and with one last look at Stiles, he headed inside.

Stiles headed over to the grassy hill opposite the bunker, unlocking his phone he plopped down onto it.

Then he paused, Stiles found himself staring at the background picture of him and Alex, it was taken the night not long ago, the night where they had become mates properly. A tear slipped from his eye and rolled down his cheek at the memory of her, the only one coming to mind was the last one, where she lay in the bed back at the clinic, helpless and pale and probably dying. He was powerless to do anything though, he would give anything to help her.

Stiles let out a shaky sigh, swallowing the lump in his throat, clearing his throat as he finally decided to dial the clinic's number.

A few rings more than he had expected and the other end of the phone was picked up, but the person on the other end of the phone was completely silent, making Stiles frown in confusion, "Hello, Deaton?" he questioned a little worriedly, his heartbeat picking up as there was a little banging about before he was met with rapid breathing over the receiver.

"Stiles?" Derek questioned a little breathlessly, making Stiles' frown deepen further when he heard the panic in the older man's voice.

"What's going on?" Stiles asked suddenly in alarm, standing up from the hill and beginning to pace back and forth on the grass.

"Just run Stiles!" Derek shouted, followed quickly by a lot of crashing around and shouting, before the line cut out and went completely dead. The last thing Stiles heard was the beeping of the tone, telling him it was impossible to reach this number.

Stiles stumbled backwards, staring down at his phone in horror. What the hell did Derek mean run? And what about Alex?

Taking a deep breath Stiles took a second to think rationally, the glow of his eyes slowly faded, but the thudding of his heart remained in his chest as he darted towards the bunker.

He almost fell through the door that he knew the others were behind, meeting their gazes with wild panic in his eyes.

His eyes falling straight on his father, "Dad! I'm so glad you're okay. I'm sorry I should have been there" Stiles sighed, feeling completely to blame for his father having to hide out.

"Son, I'm okay. Really don't worry, and none of this is your fault! How were you supposed to know any of this would happen" His father said calmly, looking into his son's eyes, with both hands on his shoulders trying his best to calm him down.

But Stiles was quickly back on task, to the reason he had darted down here as quickly as he had done in the first place, "We can talk later dad. I need to talk to you guys, in private. Now!" Stiles said erratic heart thumping in his chest, something that Scott quickly noticed, immediately Stiles headed out the door the same way that he came in without waiting from an answer.

Chris, his father, Scott and Deucalion quickly followed after him, sharing looks of concern and confusion between them. Chris showed them down the hall where they could talk without being overheard.

They all surrounded Stiles in the small room, "What's going on?" Scott asked his best friend the moment the door closed behind them.

"I think everyone at the clinic has been taken, or something. I don't know, but I called the clinic to check on Alex. But Derek answered and sounded panicked, the next thing I know he's telling me to run" Stiles explained shakily pacing back and forth. Until Scott grabbed hold of him and helped him to sit down, not sure how much longer the poor guy could stand on those shaky legs.

Stiles gratefully excepted the chair, resting his elbows on his knees he ran his hand through his somewhat crazy hair. "We'll fix this Stiles, whatever is happening, it's gonna be okay" Scott promised, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"How Scott!? How're you gonna fix this? How could you possibly fix this?" Stiles exclaimed, with strained fake laughter as he jumped out of the chair, pushing Scott's hand from his shoulder. Before anyone had a chance to speak Stiles began ranting again, "I don't know if Alex is even awake! Let alone alive! And as usual, I'm fucked, completely powerless!" Stiles growled throwing the chair he had been sitting on at the wall, where it smashed into smithereens.

"Stiles, you need to calm down" Scott tried calmly, walking in front of Stiles, keeping his hands raised in front of him. Even though Stiles was looking at the floor, as his shoulders continued to rapidly rise and fall with his rapid breaths, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Stop telling me what to do" Stiles spat at his best friend, his eyes remaining of the floor, but he spoke in a tone more vicious and menacing than Scott had ever heard him talk in all the years of knowing him.

"Stiles?" his father asked worried, stepping closer to his son, but Stiles stepped back. Then Scott stopped the older man from moving, holding a hand in front of his chest shaking his head at the sheriff.

"Stiles? Can you look at me" Scott said carefully, pushing the sheriff behind him as he stepped closer. The second Scott moved he watched as Stiles sank his claws into his palms, the blood starting to run freely.

The other three men looked on at the exchange between the two teenagers, "Careful Scott" Deucalian warned, stepping closer to the pair as he began to see exactly what he imagined Scott was seeing.

Stiles growled deep in the back of his throat, it was practically a snarl as Stiles looked up into Scott's eyes Scott almost fell back into the men behind him. "How? How is this possible?" Scott stuttered, not daring to look over his shoulders at the others.

"Scott, no sudden movements" Deucalian warned a hand on Scott's shoulder helping him step back a little, keeping his movements slow, Stiles didn't react to anything they were saying. He kept panting, staring them all down like he could rip their throats out at any moment.

"Why are his eyes red?" the sheriff questioned, practically swallowing around his words.

"H-He's an Alpha" Chris stuttered a little, just as confused as the other two in the room

Tags: @loverofwaytoomanythings618 @screamxqueenx94 @lusyschwa @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @chewie-redbird @julzdec @brien-odylan @stiles-o-dylan24@riseandshinelittleblossom @all-will-be-well-love @all-will-be-well-love @april-14-blog @walkxthexmoon @aieshawilliams2001 @2007rh

[thisdiscontentedwinter]

Stella and the Wolf - Chapter 11

You can read it here on AO3, or check out the Tumblr Chapter Index here. 

Stiles knows one thing for certain. He knows that if he and Stella get into the SUV, they’re not getting out again. He also knows that you don’t argue with a person with a gun, however much she’s smiling.

“Okay,” he says, hating the way his voice cracks on that simple word. “Okay, we’re getting in.”

Stella makes a small frightened sound beside him.

He steps forward and opens the back door of the SUV. There’s nobody in the backseat. Good.

The open door gives them a few seconds maybe, where the woman thinks he’s obeying her. And a few seconds where it obscures her vision of them. A few seconds, but he has to use them.

“Run,” he mouths to Stella, and shoves her. And says, aloud, “Okay, we’re getting in.”

A few seconds, and then he’s turning, and running, keeping himself between Stella and the woman. Keeping himself in her line of fire.

“Back up!” the woman yells at the driver. “Back up!”

And the tires of the SUV screech, and the open back door wobbles back and forth like a loose tooth as the SUV spins around in a speedy three-point turn to face them.

“Help!” Stella screams as she runs, and how does she have any breath left in the lungs at all? “Help! Help us!”

Her shoes slap on the pavement as they bolt back toward Deaton’s.

Stella hammers on the glass front door, and Stiles hems her in as the SUV closes on them.

Oh God. They’re sitting ducks now, aren’t they? Stiles shields Stella—tells himself to fall forward to cover her when he’s hit—and then he is falling, but if he’s hurt he can’t feel it, and there’s a strange popping sound, and the SUV is speeding off back into the night.

It takes Stiles a moment to figure out what happened.

It helps that he’s lying on the floor on top of Stella, and Deaton is staring down at them, eyebrows raised.

He opened the door, Stiles figures, and they both tumbled through like skittles.

Deaton isn’t their only audience though.

A man wearing coveralls with the name of the tire place across the street is hurrying toward them too.

“What the hell’s going on?” he asks. “Shit. Is that a bullet hole in your window, Alan?” And he holds up his cell phone. “I called the cops.”

Stiles should panic about that, he thinks, but at the moment he’s way too relieved to actually be alive.

***

Dad turns up, lights and sirens heralding his approach. Well, first Tara turns up, but the second she sees who’s involved, she calls Dad, and Stiles knows there’s no use telling her that it’s not necessary. It’s a lie anyway, because the moment Dad turns up, Stiles goes weak at the knees, and can barely hold himself up long enough for Stella to get her hug before he’s stumbling into Dad’s embrace as well. He’s shaking, and he can’t stop, and Dad rubs his back and makes angry, growling kind of shushing noises that fall somewhere between ‘You’re okay, son’ and ‘I’m gonna kill a motherfucker.’ Stiles finds both sentiments equally comforting, to be honest.

“Heard the little girl yellin’ as she ran down the street,” the guy from the tire place is telling Tara. “By the time I got over here, Alan had already got them inside.”

Stiles inhales heavily. Dad smells of coffee and aftershave.

Dad peels Stiles off him gently. “Talk me through it, kid.”

Stiles sucks in a breath. “We were, we were leaving the clinic, and the black SUV pulled in behind us. I didn’t get the license plate. And the woman in the passenger seat asked if we wanted a ride. I said no, and…” He shudders.

“She pointed a gun at us!” Stella exclaims, sounding more outraged than upset. “So Stiles pretended we were getting in the car, and we ran back here instead.”

“You ever seen this woman before?”

“No,” Stiles says, but he’s got a pretty good idea who it was. “She was blonde. Maybe in her thirties? White. Slim build, I guess. She was wearing a dark jacket, and I didn’t get a look at the driver. I think it was a guy.”

It’s paltry, really, the language used to describe suspects. The woman’s face is burned onto his retinas, but his ability to translate it into words is almost non-existent.

“She had a necklace,” Stella says, and Stiles doesn’t even remember a necklace. “It was silver. It had a dog on it.”

Not a dog, Stiles is suddenly sure. A wolf.

There’s no doubt in his mind the woman was Kate Argent, and he’s going to trawl Allison’s Facebook later to made certain.

“And the license plate started with a six,” Stella adds. “I didn’t see the other numbers or letters through.”

Dad looks to Deaton.

“I’m sorry,” Deaton says. “By the time I got the door open, I only saw their tail lights.”

Stiles watches as Dad’s gaze is drawn to the bullet hole in Deaton’s window.  

Attempted abductions are rare, Stiles knows. And so are attempted abductions that end in attempted murder. Sooner or later Dad’s going to have to give voice to what must be a growing suspicion that Stiles and Stella are mixed up in something weird, and that they both know more than they’re telling him.

Stiles hopes it’s later.

“But what were you kids even doing here?” Dad asks, shaking his head helplessly. “I thought you were at home.”

“We, um…” And Stiles has no idea where to go with that.  

“They brought me a stray kitten,” Deaton says, rescuing him unexpectedly.

“You found a kitten?” Dad asks, his forehead creasing.

Stiles nods.

“It was lost and sad,” Stella says, making her eyes go big. “We couldn’t just let it go hungry, Dad! I’m calling it Matilda, and can we keep it, please?”

***

Matilda, thank god, is not an imaginary kitten, and Deaton is able to produce it from out the back. It is, however, a boy kitten. A little orange tabby boy. Stella sits on the floor and pets him and coos over him while Dad and Tara go over everything with Stiles and Deaton and the guy from the tire place again.

Despite Stella’s insistence on immediately adopting Matilda, Deaton tells her he’s not quite big enough to go home with anyone yet, but that if Dad is okay with it then they can come and collect him in a week or two.

Dad, Stiles thinks, would agree to absolutely anything at this point. Stiles can tell he’s shaken at how close his kids came to being seriously hurt—or worse—tonight.

He drives them home in the back of his cruiser, and Tara drives Stiles’s Jeep.

“If there’s anything you need to tell me,” Dad begins, and then shakes his head and stops, like he can’t quite bring himself to ask. Like he can’t accuse his kids of lying, even though it’s got to be at least starting to point to that for him now.

Stiles swallows down his guilt, and plays dumb.

***

Dad heads back to work, because one thing about being the Sheriff, Stiles knows, is that it never stops. His kids were almost abducted tonight, but Peter Hale and his nurse are also missing, so Dad doesn’t get to stay home. There’s always something. And lately, in Beacon Hills, all those little somethings have been snowballing into bigger somethings. It’ll be an avalanche in a minute, Stiles thinks wildly as he locks the door behind Dad. An avalanche, and Stiles only hopes that the people he cares about aren’t caught in its path.

Who is he kidding though, really?

The avalanche has already begun, and theres’s no escaping it now.

***

Derek doesn’t answer any of his texts of phone calls. Not even when Stiles tells him that Kate Argent (thanks, Allison’s Facebook!) threatened him and Stella with a gun. Stiles tries not to feel the sting of betrayal.

Maybe Derek’s lost his phone.

Maybe Derek’s dead.

Okay, so Stiles would definitely prefer the first option to the second one, but he can’t deny the fact that the second option would also fully explain why Derek hasn’t answered. And Derek’s not exactly the guy with the best luck in the universe, is he? Who would be surprised if he was dead?

Stiles ignores the jab of pain in his gut that comes with even entertaining that possibility.

But it’s there.

He doesn’t sleep much that night.

***

Dad works through the night, and stops in for breakfast before heading out to work again.

“You go to school,” he says firmly. “You pick Stella up, and come straight back here afterwards. No going out for takeout, or trips to the mall, or kitten rescues, or anything.” He sighs, and rubs a hand over his forehead. “You’re not grounded, kiddo. This isn’t a punishment, okay? I’d just feel a hell of a lot better if I knew you kids were home, instead of gallivanting off around town.”

“That’s us,” Stiles says. “Pair of gallivanters.”

Stella snorts.

“We’ll come straight home,” Stiles says, and means it too. “No more running around town, I promise.”

“Well, except tonight,” Dad says.

Stiles goes completely blank.

“The dance, kiddo,” Dad reminds him. “You’re dropping Stella off with Melissa, remember? And you and Scott are going to the dance.”

Right.

Right, somewhere out there teenagers are having normal werewolf-less lives. Stiles used to be one of them, not that long ago. He even entertained ideas of asking Lydia to the dance—and constructed vivid fantasies where she actually said yes—and somehow he’d completely forgotten it was tonight.

“Oh,” he says, because he is not at all prepared. “Oh, shit.”

“I got your suit cleaned last week,” Dad tells him. “Also, language.”

“Mrs. McCall is going to show me how to make a blanket out of scrap material,” Stella says. “We were going to make it for my bear, but now we can get a basket and put it in it, so we’re ready for when we can bring Matilda home.”

“It’s a boy cat,” Dad says.

Stella looks at him expectantly.

Dad raises his eyebrows. “Matilda is a girl’s name.”

“Well, he doesn’t know that,” Stella points out. “He’s a cat.”

Dad considers that for a moment. “You know what? That’s a fair call, kiddo.”

Stella looks pleased.

“Be good at school,” Dad says to both of them. “Stay safe.”

He says that a lot, but there’s usually not such weight behind the words.

Stiles and Stella both stay in Dad’s hugs for a little longer than usual, and Stiles locks the door after he leaves.  

“Are you really going to the dance tonight?” Stella asks once the coast is clear.

“I guess,” Stiles says. “Like, we’ll act normal, right? And sooner or later everything will all blow over?”

Stella’s eight, and the look she gives him tells him that even she thinks that’s bullshit.

“We act normal,” Stiles says, as though repeating it will make it true. “And we just hope that Derek’s okay.”

“And Peter,” Stella says.

“What?”

“We hope that Peter’s okay too.”

“Peter has a body count, Stella.”

She shrugs. “But we’re not on it.”

Like that makes any difference.

Except maybe… maybe it does? Because Peter Hale could have killed them both back in that hospital room, but he didn’t, because they didn’t fit the pattern.

Neither did Laura Hale though, right?

Or maybe Stiles has just been looking at the wrong pattern this whole time.

[sterek]

I love Omega!Stiles, can you rec me some of your fav fics with this trope??

Sure can! :)

You Smell Like Mine by bleep0bleep [13k, E]

People talk about the alpha instinct, an alpha's head being swayed by a nice-smelling omega, or the desire to drop everything and show off. Derek's never felt any of that. He's just not that kind of alpha.

Then he meets Stiles.

Fight Fires In Your Best Clothes by standinginanicedress [67k, E]

The key isn’t actually being confident, he repeats in his head in Lydia’s breathy voice. It’s faking the hell out of it and looking as sexy as possible while you do it. For omegas, it’s easy. There’s a natural charm to all of us that only takes seconds to engage, and barely takes practice.

Walk into the room, he chants in his head. Own it, and look people in the eyes. Find the best looking alpha, have them buy you a drink, and the rest is easy.

Worth the Wait by Dexterous_Sinistrous [13k, E]

Stiles always had a thing for Derek, but then again, so did everyone else. Stiles just wanted to be seen as different, which was why he waited.

But maybe he waited a little too long.

The Fox & The Wolf by Dexterous_Sinistrous [79k, E]

The war between the fox and wolf clans has raged for centuries, ignited in a time before anyone can remember. Now both clans—tired of the bloodshed and hate—are searching for a way to end the war.

Crowned prince Stiles Stilinski—heir to the fox clan—has agreed with his father to meet with the Hales, the ruling royal family over the wolf clan. Under the counseling of the Druids, both clans are presented with a solution to the war: unite the Stilinski and Hale clans through marriage. To quell their people's anger, both Stiles and Derek—eldest living Hale Alpha—are urged to accept the other as an equal; as their mate.

For the sake of their people, both houses make the ultimate sacrifice by choosing duty over love. But, out of what was first assumed to be compromised, quickly turns to be a better match than either could have hoped for. But not all is easy for either clan, as some members refuse to believe that the war could end so easily.

Empty by DiscontentedWinter [48k, M]

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

(Note: it has Parrish’s pov but it’s Sterek and it’s brilliant!)

Leaving Paradise by NARKOTIKA [43k, E]

A boy dreams of freedom, a broken man finds home, and they learn to love in a world where it feels more impossible than water falling from the sky.

A Change of Plans by sunnydalewerewolf [12k, E]

Stiles and Derek had been best friends since they were babies, their parents having all been friends since college. Growing up, it had seemed very apparent that Derek would be an alpha and Stiles an omega. Stiles had just kind of always assumed they would end up together, and he thought Derek had assumed the same. No one ever said anything about it, but that’s just the way things would be.

So when they both end up being omegas, things get kind of complicated.

Flower Bomb by rispacooper [6k, M]

When an eligible omega glanced your way, you were supposed to glance back. Derek could hear an echo of his mother’s voice in his head, gently reminding him there were alphas who would kill to find themselves the focus of an omega’s interest.

Derek didn’t have the dominating personality or drive necessary to be classified as alpha, and there was no bright spark of appeal about him to say he was omega. He was tall and in good shape. He had a pretty face, dark hair and light eyes, good bone structure. But he had no need to get in fights or conquer the world. He didn’t even like arguing with his family. He was solidly beta, and wouldn’t have minded, never had minded, except for when Stiles was near.

You're a Mess, But You're a Catch to Me by jsea [11k, E]

The laws are clear: omegas are required to have an alpha guardian. So when the sheriff gets shot, Derek is roped in to stepping up as Stiles' temporary alpha while he recovers.

Derek knew it was going to be a bad idea, but he never could have predicted all of the ways that Stiles would end up turning his life upside down.

Someday Came Today by Fatebegins [81k, E]

"March 2, 1810. . .Today, I met the man I’m going to marry."

At the age of eight, Genim “Stiles” Stilinski showed no signs of Great Beauty. And even at eight, Stiles learned to accept the expectations society held for him--until the evening when Derek Hale, the handsome and dashing Alpha of the Hale pack, solemnly kissed his hand and promised him that one day he would grow into himself, that one day he would be as beautiful as he already was smart. And even at eight, Stiles knew he would love him forever.

But the years that followed were as cruel to Derek as they were kind to Stiles. Stiles is as intriguing as the Duke boldly predicted on that memorable day--while Derek is a lonely, bitter man, crushed by a devastating loss. But Stiles has never forgotten the truth he set down on paper all those years earlier--and he will not allow the love that is his destiny to slip through his fingers.

I Still Believe by IAmAVeronica [111k, E]

War is hell.Falling in love with enemy solider Derek Hale, secretly mating him, and then accidentally being left behind by him when the war suddenly and violently ends is a special kind of hell apparently reserved for one human omega Stiles Stilinski.But Stiles is determined to find his mate again, because Derek left more than just Stiles in a war-ravaged and werewolf-hating country - and with danger at every turn and nothing but Derek's gun and his own wits for protection, hell hath no fury like Stiles now.

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica [124k, E]

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm.Awesome.And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts.Joy.

a mountain to climb by grimm [126k, E]

"Don’t do it,” he mutters. “Don’t do it, please, don’t do it.”

But there it is, a soft pink line appearing right next to the control. Stiles’ legs give out from under him; he sinks to the bathroom floor, hands shaking, his entire body shaking. It’s hard to breathe, his vision blurring around the edges. There’s a knock on the door behind him and then it opens and Scott sits down next to him.

“I’m fucked,” Stiles gasps, tears prickling at his eyes. “I’m fucked!"

The Chase by saltandbyrne for Akuneko42 [10k, E]

Derek's fourth Chase will be his last if he doesn't catch an omega this time. He's starting to doubt this whole soul-mate thing anyway, at least until someone from his past shows up and gives him the run of his life.

Commands and Contrasts by ravingrevolution [88k, M]

"Collared Alphas are Careful Alphas"

Seriously? What the hell was that? Because putting a collar on someone was supposed to make them manageable or something? Sure thing.

Or: "Mated Betas are Better Betas"

Again with the control issues. But then again betas were by far the most common classification type, so Stiles assumed that was mainly posted to keep things kind of even.

His least favorite was definitely: "Keep Omegas Pure - Report Uncollared Unmated Alphas Always"

Just wow.

Stiles attended all the home economics classes, like a good omega, and took all his pills, like a good omega, and outwardly submitted to authority, like a good omega, but he didn’t buy into the whole structure dynamic thing. He just didn’t.

In the Solstice of our Hearts by ravingrevolution [73k, E]

"You're not putting that up your butt," Scott told him flatly and Stiles couldn't stop the pissed off whine he made, but his friend continued. "Stiles, you can't put that up your butt, you know that. Your butt won't be ready for anything to go in it until-"

"Okay, okay!" he said, flailing his hands to stop his friend's lecture. "Message received, no butt stuff until I'm pounced on by some freaking animal in the forest and ravished to within an inch of my life. Got it. Thanks, Scotty, I mean heaven forbid I actually try to take control of my life and give myself a fighting chance or anything."

"Not all alphas are animals," Scott said quietly.

Maybe he was right, but Stiles wasn't holding his breath.

Ssshhh! (or the voice in my head will have to shout) by mirrorkill [20k, E]

Things in Beacon Hills are always weird, but Deputy Derek Hale is pretty damn sure he's getting the brunt of this week's insanity. There's a serial killer in town getting their kicks by posing people weirdly and maybe the local coven is to blame. His mom's setting up his sister with his new boss's cute son. There's some guy talking in his head. Oh, and his heat kicks in, four months too early. Also: he's pretty sure cell phones are the worst thing on the planet.

This is Derek Hale's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week. All he wants is to enjoy his new apartment in peace. But you can't always get what you want. And if he tries real hard, will the voice in his head help him get what he needs?

The One With The Mail-Order Brides and A/B/O Dynamics by Stoney [16k, E]

Wolves aren't meant to be alone. Laura tells Derek this repeatedly. Which... is why Derek knows he's losing his mind, as Laura has been dead for more than six years. Wolves aren't meant to be alone.

And so he sends away for a companion. JUST for a companion, not for a mate. The universe, however, has a different plan in store for him.

Hello, Heartbreaker by astoryaboutwar [18k, E]

It’s a popular joke among Alphas: fuck an Omega, get heartbreak on your hands. Omegas are fragile little emotional things, needy and whiny. Stiles refuses to become that, or to believe that he’s anything like that.

Stiles and Derek have been fuckbuddies for a while when Derek loses his memories of the past three years - and them - in an accident. (Also - everyone's a werewolf, and everyone's alive.)

an exaltation of larks by llassah [25k, E]

There are times when he feels as if they could fall into bed together, easy as breathing. If Stiles were not highborn, if he were an omega without connections, Derek would be sorely tempted. As it is, he resists. Derek wants, he yearns, but he resists. Still, the sight of Stiles in his cot is enough to test him, even now that it is familiar. At the end of each lambing season, he sleeps for a week, worn down by months of hard work, of relentless struggle. He doesn’t know how he’ll feel by the time Stiles leaves, how he’ll feel after long days and longer nights spent resisting the insistent tug of Stiles’s scent and the inclinations of his own foolish heart.

All Derek wants is to get through the lambing season with his body and spirit intact. He had thought that the blizzards would be the main danger, not a highborn omega with beautiful eyes and a stubborn streak.

Settle Down by wearing_tearing, whatthehale [153k, E]

Stiles is a struggling author barely making ends meet.

Derek is a successful architect whose biological clock is ticking.

Enter a surrogacy agency, two packs, and a particularly sticky and toe curling heat week and you get a match made in heaven.

The Sanctuary by chase_acow [24k, E]

Stiles runs away during his first heat, right into the waiting and ambiguously scary arms of the Alpha's nephew, Derek Hale. He doesn't have any choice except to submit, but along the way, he digs up a mystery that threatens his family and even the town's safety.

Consort to the King by Ember [26k, E]

King Derek, alphas of alphas, ruler of the realms, lord of the city of Beacon Hills, has just asked newly discovered omega Stiles to be his consort and mate. And Stiles, being the lowly commoner that he is, has no choice but to say yes. Will the King's past allow him to love again? Will Stiles ever escape the confines of his new mate's possessive will? Can there be love once more in the castle? Or perhaps, yet again, another betrayal?

[stiles-mischief-stillinski]

Those Little Moments

A little Sterek fic that takes place some point after season 5.

It’s the little moments that count. Every single one of those little moments that people tend to brush over and forget about. That small glance, that soft and gentle touch. Or the first look you share with the one you love when they come back from a long trip. Or the care in your voice when they’re hurt. It’s those things that join together in the end, like a puzzle. All of those little pieces joining together perfectly and forming one clear image. For Derek, it’s the realisation that maybe, just maybe, he needed Stiles Stilinski more than he knew. And maybe, just maybe, he loved him too.

Derek didn’t know what he had expected when he ran into Stiles that day in the small, corner store.

Maybe an overdramatic display of how long it had been since he’d last seen the werewolf, or maybe a small smile and a ‘welcome back’. Instead, Derek was greeted by a pair of honey coloured eyes that had widened to the size of saucers. Stiles’ mouth was slightly agape as he looked at Derek.

A sort of sadness struck the boy’s face, something which gave Derek no pleasure when he saw it.

He had tried to speak, he had tried to say to say hello (or anything really) to Stiles but his tongue had betrayed him and had twisted into a tight knot. Too tight to untie, Derek could do nothing but stare back.

He hadn’t really expected to be overwhelmed with so many emotions. Sadness. Guilt. Most of all, regret. Regret for leaving Stiles behind in Beacon Hills while he travelled all over the country. Then, as soon as Stiles spun around and left with tears making his eyes glisten, the regret swiftly changed to anger. His heart tighten. Derek wanted to reach out but his hands felt like they were chained to his sides. Each step Stiles took, the harder it was to move, to call out. His voice remained silent and a cold wave crashed over him.

_____

The next time Derek saw Stiles, was when he appeared at Derek’s loft; all bloodied, bruised and clothes ripped.

He had been attacked by a mysterious creature and left at the side of the road. Derek was the closest person he could reach. “How did this even happen?” Derek asked with worry as he gently dabbed Stiles’ face.

“Hell do I know. I was just walking before bam! Attacked.” Stiles flinched as Derek wiped the gash above his eye.

“Sorry,” He apologised, looking at the boy with a soft expression. Stiles didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve any of this. “I’m sorry that this happened Stiles.”

“It’s not your fault, you didn’t know it was gonna happen.” Stiles shrugged as he started putting his jacket back on.

Derek didn’t know what possessed him to do it but the next thing he knew, he had a hand on Stiles’ cheek. He made small circles against Stiles’ cold skin and he must have done something right because with tired eyes, Stiles leaned into Derek’s touch. It was such a tender moment between the two. Derek had forgotten what those felt like. He’d forgotten what it felt like to be loved…to know that somebody cared about him…to feel safe. With Stiles, it all came flooding back.

“Don’t go. Please.” It was barely a whisper, Derek couldn’t remember when he had ever been so quiet.

Stiles looked up at him, taking Derek’s hand off his face and into his own hand, interlocking their fingers.

“I won’t.”

______

“I killed somebody.”

They were sitting on the Stilinski porch when Stiles had broken the silence; breathing irregular and hands shaking when he had said it.

“I didn’t mean to. I swear, I never wanted to. It’s just, Donovan, he was chasing me and I was climbing the ladder and he was right behind me. He was close Derek. He was so close and I was terrified and I reached for the pole and everything fell and it, it stabbed him. Right through the chest.Then, he died.”

Tears soaked through Derek’s shirt as he cradled Stiles. He rocked back and forth with the boy in his arms, stroking his hair and muttering softly that it was okay.

“You know what the worst part was? It wasn’t the blood that stained my hands and it wasn’t the fact that I had just killed somebody. It was the fact that Scott believed Theo over me. I tried to tell him and he believed Theo over me, his best friend.”

Stiles cried louder, all the pain and hurt hitting him like a truck. After everything they had been through, Stiles had never believe that Scott would ever be able to do that to him. To trust someone else more than his own brother.

Derek looked at Stiles. He looked so broken that it honestly didn’t surprise the werewolf anymore. After all the terrors that Stiles had faced, Derek wished had never left. He would have believed Stiles. He would have protected Stiles and kept him safe from this whole mess.

“I’m sorry Stiles. I am so, so sorry that you had to go through that.”

“So am I.” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s shirt, burying himself further into the warmth of his body. It was comforting, it made Stiles feel like he really did have somebody who made him feel wanted and safe; safer than a whole pack of dangerous werewolves and kitsunes and banshees ever could.

Stiles may not have been a supernatural creature himself, but he knew that without a doubt , Derek was his anchor too.

______

The air turned cold around them and Stiles wished he had worn those gloves. He gripped the flowers in his hands tightly, they were a spectacular array of colour, ranging from orchids, to dahlias, to morning glories.

He remembered looking at old wedding photos, apparently his mother couldn’t decide which ones she would walk down the aisle with, so she chose one of each flower that the florists had to offer.

Stiles took in a deep breath. He couldn’t think back to when ha had last been there. It was shameful, really, that he had allowed all of the supernatural drama get in between his visits to his mother. That’s what Stiles thought anyway.

Derek put a hand onto Stiles’ shoulder, giving it a light squeeze of reassurance. Stiles looked to see Derek giving him a small smile, which he returned.

“Hey Mom,” His voice felt heavy and thick as he spoke. “It’s good to see you again. I’m sorry I haven’t been around in a while, lots of things have been happening.”

He thought for a moment, thinking carefully about what he wanted to tell her. “Uh, Dad’s sticking to his diet, for a change, so that’s something. I’m also planning on joining the FBI once high school is over and done with.”

Stiles had been through so much during that night in the woods, more than any teenager ought to go through. But he had. Despite all odds, he had survived. Nothing, Stiles thought, nothing could ever be more difficult than talking to his own mother.

“Derek’s back.” He said suddenly, making the Hale surprised. “He patched me up a while ago when I got attacked.”

Stiles looked from the headstone and faced Derek, showing a sad smile on is face. “Yeah, you definitely would have loved him.”

The jeep’s rattling engine hadn’t been started straight away. Stiles gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning whiter and whiter.

“For what it’s worth, I think your mother would be insanely proud of you.”

“Thank you Derek. Really, thank you.”

In all of the time Derek had known Stiles, there were few times when he had looked as serious as he had in that jeep, in that precise moment in time. In his mind, Derek swore a secret oath. He would never let Stiles down. Not again.

______

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Derek looked up from the book in his hands - caught off guard by the sudden plea. They were in the loft, Derek on the sofa and Stiles sitting by the window, head against the cool glass as he watched the rain lightly tap against it.

“Stiles…”

What could he say? What could Derek possibly say that would ease the teenager’s mind and assure him that no matter what, Derek wouldn’t leave again. At least, not without Stiles by his side.

“Without you here, things go wrong. I go wrong. When you’re not here, I don’t feel safe anymore, I don’t feel right. Damn it Derek, it’s hard. Without you everything just falls apart and it’s just hard to deal with and nothing makes sense and I-”

The salt in the air drifted around , invading all of Derek’s senses. He made his way over to Stiles, sitting in front of him on the ledge, he wiped away a tear that had dropped from the brunette’s eye. Slowly, he took Stiles’ hand into his own and laced them together.

“Stiles, I promise you, right here and right now, that I am never going to leave you. Not ever again. Before I left, I never fully understood how I felt, how I still feel about, well, you. That day I saw you in the store, that’s when everything started to click.”

“Derek, what, what are you saying?” Stiles’ brows furrowed together. With his soft expression of confusion, Derek couldn’t help but melt under his gaze. He felt his heart skip beat after beat and before he knew it, he was leaning in closer to Stiles.

“What I’m trying to say is that, I love you. I’m sorry I left you alone, you have no idea how much I regret it and I wish I had stayed, or maybe even have taken you with me. The point is, I’m here now, and I swear it to you that I am never leaving you behind ever again.”

“You love me?” Stiles whispered in astonishment. Derek nodded, cheeks glowing a light shade of red. He smiled, looking at the beautiful doe-eyed boy in front of him.“

"Thank God.” Stiles murmured before closing the gap between them.

It wasn’t quite like how Derek had imagined it would be. Of all the daydreams where the kiss is hot and fiery and passionate, this kiss is sweet and tender, Stiles, for once in his life, is taking his time. Taking things slowly and carefully as he takes his hands from Derek and runs them through Derek’s hair.

When they parted for air, Stiles rested his forehead against Derek’s.

“I love you too, Sourwolf.”

[halestil24]

Spend Forever

Pairing: Stiles x OC Rating: Cute Warning: Fluff, slight mentions of depression, loneliness. Words: 2,028.

A/N. This just kind of popped up in my head and I ran with it.

Living in Beacon Hills was never easy. Especially if you were involved in the supernatural part of Beacon Hills. Isabelle, or Izzy, Tanner knew that all too well. She was born and raised in Beacon Hills, her family was close with the Hale’s and when they died she was crushed.

Derek was like an older brother to Izzy, so when tragedy struck again and claimed her parents in a car accident she lived with him in the remodeled Hale home. By looking at them you would never know they weren't related. Izzy had long jet black hair, and the same olive skin. But her eyes were grey and she wasn't a werewolf.

Izzy hadn't really been surprised when her best friends got involved in the supernatural world. Scott had gotten bitten by crazy Peter and everything changed after that. Literally leaving Stiles and Izzy the only humans in the mix matched pack.

They had managed everything up until this point really well. Scott and Allison made up, Lydia got over Jackson's kanima issue, they all fought anything that came their way. The biggest struggle was starting junior year and Izzy’s ever growing crush on Stiles.

The two flirted a lot. To the point that Derek always made fun of her for being “Stilinski’s girlfriend” but she wasn’t. God not that she didn’t want to be. Izzy knew Stiles still had a thing for Lydia but that wasn’t the issue.  The issue was Malia.

Malia Tate, or rather Hale. Werecoyote. And suddenly attached to Stiles’s hip. Izzy couldn’t blame her, the boy had this charm that anyone in their right mind would fall for. That wasn’t even the problem. The problem was that Stiles started to spend less and less time with Izzy and more time “helping” Malia.

Over the summer Izzy had seen Stiles maybe 10 times and half of that he was with Malia. Everyone knew what they were doing, or at least they could guess.

So when school started Izzy told herself that she was just going to work on school and her friendship with Allison and Lydia. Stiles had scored a spot on first line after his help winning the lacrosse championship last year so he was busier than usual. Izzy could see him separating from Malia more and more.

She was sitting on Lydia’s bed thinking about Stiles. “Hello… Earth to Izzy.” Izzy snapped out of her vacant stare to find a concerned Allison and a slightly annoyed Lydia looked at her. “What?”

“We were talking about the lacrosse game tomorrow. We are going to coordinate what to wear. You still have Stiles’s lacrosse hoodie right?” Lydia spoke unphased. Izzy just nodded and listened to Lydia’s plan of wearing their boyfriend's lacrosse hoodies to the game. Izzy played along laughing and joking, but she was realizing the separation from her best friend in the world was taking it's toll and she could tell that Allison was noticing too.

Allison offered to drive Izzy home instead of calling Derek. She wouldn't let Derek buy her a car, so he always said to call and he would pick her up. But she took Allison’s offer. “So... are you okay?” Izzy stopped staring out of the window and looked at Allison. “I’m fine.” it was a lie and they both knew it. Izzy also knew that Allison wouldn’t leave it there. “It's Stiles isn't it.”

Izzy sighed. “Yeah. I don’t know what to do. He is my best friend aside from you and Lydia. He has been my best friend through this whole thing and now. He doesn't talk to me. I have been replaced by Malia.” there was a sadness in her voice and Allison frowned. “You need to talk to him.” Izzy nodded in response. Allison was right. She always was. The two hugged before Izzy got out of the car and walked into the house.

She thanked god that Derek wasn’t home. She couldn’t deal with the questions he would ask on why she smells depressed. It was bad enough that he shot her knowing looks. She busied herself by getting stuff ready for tomorrow, thinking about how she was happy that Malia being a Hale didn’t put a wrench in her relationship with Derek. Frankly, Derek didn’t trust the werecoyote so if there was any safe haven it was here. Where she was home.

Izzy hadn't felt fully comfortable wearing Stiles’s hoodie during school, so it sat folded in her locker but she dawned the school colors with her black shorts, maroon tank top and black vans. Lydia surely had something to say about it but Allison kept her quiet. Thank god for small favors.

She was sitting with Allison and Scott at lunch when Stiles came over and sat down next to her for the first time this year. And her heart jumped, earning a look from Scott. “Hey Iz.” His nickname for her made it worse. “Hey.” Her short response earned her a weird look from Scott and Stiles. “Are you coming to the game tonight?” Stiles sounded eager, and anxious. He was jiggling his leg and staring at her.

“Yeah. Wouldn’t miss it.” Izzy watched as Stiles lit up like the fourth of July, spurring hope in her chest. But it was short lived. Malia soon joined their table and Stiles turned to say something to her. Izzy couldn't take it, she got up and left.

“So, Iz..” Stiles turned back around to find her gone. He looked up at Allison and Scott. The wolf looked confused but Allison gave him a sad look. “Where did she go?” No one answered, but Malia tried her best to regain Stiles’s attention and showed blatant irritation when he was no longer interested in what she was saying.

Izzy kept to herself most of the day, but she could see that Stiles noticed her sudden absence at lunch. But there was Malia, taking up the space the once belonged to Izzy. At the end of the day when Izzy stood at her locker she told herself that she would give Stiles his hoodie back after the game. She didn’t have the right to keep it. She wasn’t his. But she would wear it to the game, like she promised Lydia. Maybe she would get the chance to talk to him after.

***

Stiles played the whole game, and Izzy had forgotten the separation between them as she cheered and yelled for Stiles every time he got the ball or scored. They won the game, and Izzy was among the crowd that jumped down onto the field. She hadn't realized that she was making a beeline for Stiles until someone stepped in front of her and stopped Stiles. Malia.

Izzy paused for a second, then came back to reality. Before she could regain her confidence she turned and almost ran from the field. In her haste she couldn't hear Stiles yelling for her. “IZZY WAIT!” Stiles watched as Izzy left the field, and he tried to go after her but Malia stopped him. “Stiles…” He tore his helmet from his head. “Malia this… this is done. I don’t even know what I was thinking. You are a great person but we are not dating. We never were. I'm sorry.” Stiles stormed passed her to the locker room so he could shower and change.

Meanwhile Izzy kept walking. Tears formed in her eyes, and she just kept walking. She didn’t really know where she was going until she found herself on the Stilinski doorstep. Grabbing her keys she unlocked the door and locked it behind her. She headed up to Stiles’s room.

She really shouldn't be here, honestly she should give her key back. Stiles was sure to come home with Malia but she didn't want to go home and have Derek ask her what was wrong. Izzy felt exhausted. All of the emotions coursing through her the last few days drained her. So she flopped down face first onto Stiles’s bed, breathing in his scent from his pillows.

Her heart clenched. This will probably be the last time she steps into his room so she might as well make the most of it. But before she knew it she was asleep.

Stiles left the locker room and climbed into his jeep. He wasn’t into celebrating tonight, and he didn't want to see Malia. All he wanted to do was talk to Izzy. She wasn’t answering her phone, and Derek said she wasn't home. Stiles called Allison who said she wasn’t with her.

There were hundreds of places Izzy could be, so Stiles started driving trying to find his best friend.

When he came up empty he headed home. Silently he walked up the stairs to his room, running his hands over his face. When he walked into his room his heart stopped.

There was Izzy, laying in his bed cuddling his pillow. In his sweatshirt. She looked good. Stiles realized how much he missed her, how much he cared for her. He kicked off his shoes and gently removed Izzy’s from her feet.

He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand over her hair. “Hey, wake up Iz.” his voice was soft, so soft he wondered if she heard him but she shuffled a little opening her eyes. “Stiles.” Izzy sat up and looked almost ashamed. “Sorry, I… I came to give you your hoodie back.” Stiles felt like someone punched him in the stomach.

It didn’t make it any better seeing the redness of her eyes. He knew she had been crying. “Why would you give it back. I don’t want it back.” His voice was shaky. He felt like he was being broken up with, but they weren't dating. “I want you to have it. Whatever’s mine is yours remember. Like always.”

Izzy let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. “What about Malia?” She didn’t want to look at Stiles but she could hear him sigh heavily. “Malia is not… Malia and I are not dating. We were never dating. I was trying to help her and I made a huge mistake.”

She finally looked at him. His whiskey eyes staring into hers. “We all make mistakes.” Stiles shook his head, reaching out and rubbing her cheek with his thumb. “I wanted it to be you. When it happened I felt horrible Iz. Can you ever forgive me for being such a shitty friend?”

Izzy just sat there, processing what she had heard. “Yeah. I can.” her voice was quiet. Stiles let out a breath and grabbed her, pulling her body to his. They stayed like that for a few moments, until Stiles shuffled them so they were laying on his bed. “When we won the game, all I saw was you. It was like no one else was there, and then she blocked me and I felt so angry. I only wanted you.”

Stiles confession made Izzy’s heart swell, she turned so he couldn't see the tears forming in her eyes. He responded with turning toward her, pulling her back to his chest and nestling his nose in her hair. Securing his arms around her waist. “Stay with me tonight.”

“What?” Izzy hadn't expected that, but more than anything she didn't want to leave his embrace. It was like he was holding her as if she would disappear if he let go. She rolled over to her back so she could look at him.

“Stay Iz.” his breath washed over her face, and her heart was racing. Stiles’s lips pressed to hers gently, and his hand found its way into her hair. Izzy felt like electricity was pulsing through her. They were both breathless when they parted. “I think I love you Iz. Can… can I be your shitty friend that is now your shitty boyfriend? And spend forever making it up to you?”

“Yes. Stiles, I love you too.” Stiles leaned down to kiss her again. When he pulled away he sighed. “Shit, Derek might just kill me now.” Izzy laughed and pulled her boyfriend closer to her. She was never leaving this bed.

[mummybear]

How Things Change - Part 11 - Let The Wolf In

Warnings: Swearing, Slight smut, Think that’s it

Words: 3862

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Scott McCall, Derek Hale, Peter Hale, Oc Alex, Theo Raken, Tracy Stewart, Mentions of Lydia Martin

Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Alex (OC)

The pair walked through the building together, at least to start with. Until suddenly Alex picked up her pace significantly, taking off quickly in front of him. Meaning that Stiles had to jog to catch with Alex, as she began to rage walk her way out of the building. The door bouncing off of the wall as she marched outside. Stiles was calling her name, trying his hardest to keep his cool, but it was more than obvious to him that she was intent on completely ignoring him all of a sudden. Unfortunately for Alex, Stiles was beyond done with her ignoring him so that she could run off and be reckless somewhere.

He picked up his pace quickly ending up in front of her, grabbing her by her forearms and stopping Alex in her tracks. Alex was a little surprised at his movement, and it probably showed on her face.

Because Stiles' face changed from annoyed, and he looked much calmer almost the second he witnessed the look on her face, "Look, Lexi, I need you to listen to me. We really need to think about this okay. We need to be smart" Stiles reasoned as his thumbs rubbed at her arms gently.

Alex groaned in annoyance, "We don't have time to sit around talking all day Stiles, while we're standing here talking Scott and Derek are probably half dead. So I'm gonna go, you can stay here if you want! I have to go and rip some little bitches heads off" Alex seethed at the final words, shrugging him off and pulling out of his hold.

She stormed away from him, towards the house where she had last seen Theo and his rat pack, which just so happened to also be the place she had almost died. Alex briefly registered the angry growl behind her, but it grew louder as Stiles ran out in front of her again, which is pretty much what she had expected to happen.

Although a few things were a little different than she imagined, his eyes were glowing gold again and he immediately stepped into her personal space. Alex growled back at him she began to back up away from him anyway. While she wasn't scared at all she could practically taste the sudden dominance he was emitting, the obvious anger on his face sent a shiver up her spine, she quickly realised that she may have been a little too hostile with him.

Alex sighed his name, the guilt thick in her voice but Stiles was beyond pissed right now. He roughly pushed her back into the nearest brick wall, hands either side of her head caging her in between his body and the wall. "No Alex! I wasn't finished! If this is gonna work then we need to work together, not you just talking over me all the time and running anything I ever say down, we're supposed to be equals! You can't just keep walking away from me, this time you're gonna listen to me" Stiles fumed his hand slamming into the wall beside them.

Stiles took a deep shaky breath and Alex looked up at him, the guilt evident on her face, though she finally met his eyes again as he continued, "No more going in half cocked! I can't lose you, Alex! I won't. So if you could just stop being so self-destructive and think for just a minute, that would be great!" Stiles exclaimed, his voice thick and husky as he glared down at her.

Something changed in his eyes though, when he really looked at Alex properly, and he would have felt guilty but he just couldn't let himself, not this time. The only thing running through his mind was what had happened already in the last couple of days. So maybe if he stuck to his guns a little more this time, then she might understand how impulsive she was being constantly, and just maybe he could avoid anyone else getting seriously injured for a little while.

"You're right, I know that okay. And I am sorry, but Its who I am you know that it's just something that I can't change about myself" Alex sighed sadly looking at her feet, she felt Stiles move above her and looked up thinking the worst, that maybe he had left this situation and her.

Stiles hooked his finger under her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes again, "Don't you ever think that I want to change you. I just need you to be a little more careful now, especially after what's happened" Stiles murmured the last part against her lips, as his fingers brushed his bite mark on her neck causing her to let out a small whimper. "What?" Stiles chuckled hotly against her lips, his nose nudging hers slightly.

"That felt oddly amazing" Alex revealed, one of her hands resting over his heart as she found herself blushing a little when his fingers brushed across the mark again.

Just as Alex found her mark on his neck and did the same, smirking with satisfaction as she watched him visibly shiver. "See told you so" she giggled but the giggle soon turned into a groan when he pressed her back into the wall, wedging his knee between her legs.

Alex's hands flew to his shoulders gripping tightly, "You smell so good" Stiles murmured as his lips travelled down her neck, and his hands gripped her hips rocking her back and forth over his thigh, making her feet leave the floor and leaving her completely under his control.

"Stiles, baby, please. W-we need to go" Alex panted half-heartedly, as her head dropped back against the wall.

Stiles groaned into her neck in protest, "How about I tell you my plan, and you enjoy the ride" Stiles mumbled sucking his bite mark on her neck.

"Fuck, okay. But as soon as you're done explaining we go" Alex agreed breathlessly, she caved easier than she would have liked, but he had her right where he wanted her and he knew it.

"Good girl" Stiles growled, pushing her down a little harder making her cry out his name, "So, I was thinking we go in quiet, take out anyone waiting outside the house. Practise our new wolfie hearing see if we can hear anyone inside, which I'm sure we will. Then we go in together and we do what we need to do to get Scott and Derek, and we do it together" Stiles finished pressing a kiss to her parted lips, feeling her body shake against his.

"S-sounds good, s-smart" Alex stuttered breathlessly, still clinging to his shoulders as if her life depended on it, looking him dead in the eye as she spoke, both of their eyes glowing gold on contact.

Stiles smirked lowering his leg and moving his hands to help her steady herself, "Glad you agree, so I guess we better get going" Stiles said quickly kissing her as she glared at him. "Hey don't look at me like that, you wanna go. Besides, I have a surprise for you" Stiles revealed taking her hand in his and tugging her towards his jeep.

"For the record I hate you. And you so owe me later" Alex grumbled, but she couldn't help the smile that formed on her lips as she followed him to his jeep.

"You love me really" Stiles smiled at her, as he popped open the back door of his jeep leading to the boot.

"Hey, wait a second" Alex murmured sadly, tugging on his hand. Stiles turned confused to face her and frowned when he noticed the tears rolling down her cheeks. "Just let me get this out, please I just need you to know before we go get Scott and Derek. I really am sorry, about everything. I really do love you, so much. That's why I'm so sorry about almost dying on you and scaring you like that, for me always charging around intent on doing everything myself, but most of all I'm sorry you got hurt, that you almost died and that you had to be bitten so you didn't die" Alex practically sobbed the last few words, looking over his shoulder and not meeting his eyes.

Stiles wiped the tears from her cheeks almost immediately pulling her into his chest, making her look at him again finally. "I love you too okay. So don't ever apologise for me being bitten, none of this is your fault, and in a way, I'm glad I was, otherwise we never would have known about the bond we have" Stiles assured her, his voice cracking a little as he spoke.

Alex pulled back and looked up at him, seeing a few stray tears falling from his eyes. "Are we gonna be okay?" Alex asked, her voice just above a hushed whisper.

Her hands tugging at his hoodie as she spoke, "Of course we are baby, we've got each other" Stiles replied his voice thick with emotion, Alex smiled a small smile, a smile which Stiles returned. Alex stood on her tip-toes, and tugged on her hold of his hoodie, pressing her lips firmly to his their kiss was slow and passionate. The pair pushing every emotion into the kiss they had ever held back until Stiles pulled back breathlessly to quickly for either of them.

Alex let him go as he searched his jeep for what he had been looking for, grabbing the two bats he handed one to Alex. She grinned taking the object from him with a much bigger smile than he expected, "I uh got these before everything happened, might be stupid now I just thought they could help" Stiles muttered nervously, shyly rubbing at the back of his neck.

Stiles locked up the jeep as Alex began swinging the bat around playfully, rotating her wrist as they started walking. "His and her's bats, I like it. Guess It's time to go kick some ass" Alex grinned their tears long forgotten.

Stiles smiled proudly over at her as they picked up speed a little, "Damn you look sexy. Guess I got my own Harley Quinn now then" Stiles grinned cheekily, knocking his bat off of hers.

Alex giggled at him as they neared the house, "You got that right puddin'" She winked putting on her best Harley voice, causing Stiles to groan which only made her laugh just a little harder.  

"I swear Lexi you're gonna kill me, but -" Stiles stopped mid-sentence, as Alex pushed him back around the corner when she noticed movement around the house. She pressed her finger to her lips and Stiles nodded, they padded around the corner quietly Stiles hot on her heels as they approached the house. "Somethings wrong" Stiles whispered, but Suddenly Alex was distracted, she'd heard a noise from the side of the house, quickly walking over to investigate, she could have sworn she had heard her mothers voice.

Alex turned to speak to Stiles as a rotten headache suddenly overtook her, but she stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed he was gone, Alex carefully stepped back into the shadows quietly calling out his name. But when she still had no reply from him she started to panic, how hadn't she heard anything. She knew that he wouldn't have just left her, her heart raced as she searched the area she had last seen him.

And then it happened one of her worst fears had come to light again, Alex caught sight of his bat coated in blood, a sob caught in her throat she knew it was a bad idea but she moved closer to get a closer look anyway, and as the street light shone on it, it revealed the bloody puddle beneath the bat.

Her crippling fear suddenly snapped something primal inside her and quickly turned to anger, it was like a bubbling itch beneath her skin, not knowing if he was okay or not.

She felt sick to her stomach as her head continued to throb painfully, dropping her bat beside his carefully. She growled deeply, letting them know she was coming, although Alex understood that they already knew that she would come for him.

Unable to stand the throbbing anymore she let the wolf take control, her eyes glowed bright gold in the darkness, as she all but ran to the door. Something in her eyes as she kicked down the front door, without a second thought for herself she stormed into the living room. Seeing no sign that anything had happened here since she had last been in here, except the droplets of blood, which Alex's eyes followed pushing down the worry, following the trail as it disappeared up the stairs.

She was light on her feet as she headed up the stairs following the trail, cringing at the creaking of the stairs. She focused her hearing the best she could with her lack of experience, catching snippets of conversation, along with at least one person groaning in pain.

Noticing the door was closed completely as she neared the top of the stairs, she just hoped that was a good sign, as she padded her way onto the landing and towards the door, that she knew they were behind. Alex quickly that the upstairs looked just as run down as the downstairs.

Alex could barely make out the voices, the main sound in her ears was the thudding of a heart, but it wasn't her own, which only left one person that it could be. She was obviously glad that he was still alive, but his heart was far from calm it was erratic and he was scared or really angry. It was hard for her to pinpoint an exact emotion in her own current state.

Once she reached the door she heard something behind her, she didn't have time to react as sharp claws sank into her neck. "Son of a bitch" Alex growled as she slumped to the floor, practically landing on her face. She didn't need to turn around anyway because she knew who and what it was.

Suddenly a rough hand grabbed her shoulder and pushed her over onto her back, "Your turn bitch" Tracy smirked as she bounced Alex's head off of the floor, knocking her out cold.

Stiles finally came to with a throbbing headache, he groaned in pain as his eyes struggled to focus. When he finally managed to lift his chin from his neck, it didn't take him long to assess the situation. Although he was clearly shackled to the wall, he turned his head to look around the room again, quickly noticing to blurry figures either side of him.

The figures finally came into focus when he shook his head again, "Scott?" Stiles questioned his voice rough and scratchy.  

Scott turned to his best friend sighing in relief finally seeing him awake, "You shouldn't have come looking for us dude" Scott whispered his eyes flicking to Derek on the other side of him. They were all in a very similar situation, both of them shackled to the wall just like he was.

"Forget that, have you seen Alex?" Stiles asked in a panic when he realised there was no sign of her. He was a little alarmed when he was met by two sets of wide surprised eyes.

"Wait. She's here?" Derek hissed angrily, levelling his eyes at Stiles accusingly, his shackles rattled as he leaned forward a little to look over Scott and glare, Stiles, his eyes burning bright blue.

"Do you even know her? Yes, of course, she's here" Stiles exclaimed with irritation, as he rolled his eyes at the older wolf. Inside though he was completely terrified, was she okay? He had no way of knowing and that was something that made him very uneasy at the least.

All of that was wiped from his mind when there was a loud thud outside the door, causing them all to focus on it. In all of his panic and confusion, Stiles hadn't been thinking about listening to anything beyond this room. Suddenly every muscle in Stiles' body went stiff, he could hear her heartbeat, it was slow and steady, and he quickly knew it was Alex who had hit the floor. His suspicions were confirmed when he heard loud obnoxious laughter, and the worry he had felt turned into seething anger.

He was incredibly focused now on getting free, Stiles pushed all his weight forward begging the chains to break. The growl that left his throat rivalled that of an Alpha's, as he fought with everything he had to get to her. Just as the door opened his eyes began to glow, although when he caught sight of Alex's limp body Stiles' anger faltered slightly.

Stiles wasn't paying Theo or Tracy any attention what so ever, the only thing he was focusing on was the love of his life slung carelessly over that scumbags shoulder. Theo was quick to shackle her to the wall on the opposite side to her mate and the others, as she began to come to.

"Don't touch her you son of a bitch" Stiles growled furiously, the chains clanging loudly against the wall as he fought to get to her. Both Tracy and Theo turned to look at the three of them, Tracy just laughed grabbing a knife from the table beside Alex. Theo just smirked but looked straight at Stiles.

"Alex had her chance to do as she was told and come with us, but she chose you and your pathetic excuse for a pack. She only had to listen" Theo sighed the last part mockingly as he stroked her cheek, before continuing still looking at Stiles, "So, now we either want you both to join us, or you can all die" Theo said so matter of factly, so seriously, that it made Stiles want to rip his throat out more than usual.

As Theo stepped towards him Stiles just rolled his eyes, "Go to hell! You complete waste of air!" Stiles grunted a little painfully, as the cuffs pinched at his skin. But something was beginning to work, as the chains creaked and strained against the wall. He struggled harder and harder as Theo got closer and Derek and Scott had joined him, struggling against their bindings with all of their strength when they caught sight of Alex.

Before Theo could speak again a groan from Alex distracted all of them, Stiles strained his neck to look over Theo's shoulder, completely ignoring him now which didn't go down to well with him. Before Stiles could utter her name he screamed, as white-hot pain shot through his body, as something sharp was stabbed into his thigh.

Alex's eyes shot open at the noise, and she lashed out at the nearest thing she could reach, her fist collided with Tracy's throat for once being shorter than the bitch helped immensely.

"No!" Scott growled, fighting to get to Stiles, but he couldn't quite reach him, although he would never kill them he did seriously want to hurt them both at that moment.

Tracy clutched at her throat finding it difficult to breathe with the sheer force of the hit. Spluttering a little as she dropped to her knees, "Get away from him you pathetic excuse for a werewolf, I'll never go anywhere with you" Alex spat in disgust. Causing her own chains to begin creaking as her anger increased, her eyes were locked on the knife sticking out of Stiles' leg and the blood running down from the wound. "I swear to god I will fucking kill you" Alex screamed, but she was quickly shut up when Tracy finally got up off the floor.

Suddenly Alex's face slumped into her neck as Tracy sank her claws in her leg, clawing her way to stand straight. Alex's growl was completely furious but she couldn't move and she could barely see now. "I think I owe you something" Tracy sneered suddenly, jamming her knife into Alex's leg.

Alex screamed through gritted teeth unwilling to show her how much it hurt, even when she continued to twist the knife.

Derek and Scott screamed for her to stop struggling against there chains to get to Alex, "You'll pay for this" Derek promised, as he and Scott both changed, anger increased tenfold.

Stiles, however, was eerily calm, even with Theo yelling in his face. He'd simply wrapped the chains around his arms, pulling them with every ounce of strength he had, this had seemingly gone unnoticed by Theo. But when he looked up Tracy was smirking at him, and she sank her claws into his shoulder. Stiles slumped against the wall, with a barely-there irritated growl, he was beginning to get sick of this.

Tracy smiled to herself as she headed back over to Alex, twisting the knife further, causing the boys to all kick off again only making her smile more.

Suddenly all ears pricked up as a scream echoed through the house, Stiles and Alex wishing they could clutch at their ears, while the others did. Stiles recognised that scream, it was similar to Lydia's but not quite as loud or as painful, thankfully, but there was no mistaking a banshee scream.

The door flew off the hinges landing at his feet as a pair of long slender legs entered the room, "Who the hell are you?" Theo demanded angrily, the beautiful woman rolled her eyes at him, ignoring him completely, she turned to Tracy. "I suggest you get your hands off my daughter you bitch" she growled and with a swipe of her hand, Tracy was flung across the room, body bouncing off of the wall, and she quickly uncuffed her daughter.

In the corner of her eye she saw Theo go to attack her, but before he could move she released Scott Derek and Stiles, catching her daughter in her arms and holding her tightly, brushing the hair from her face.

Everything happened at once Tracy lunged for Derek and Scott, but they caught her pinning her hands above her head against the wall. Stiles growled throwing his entire body at Theo with the little movement he had, but he could feel his body begin to respond as both of them skidding across the floor, fists flying at each other furiously.

"Mum? What are you doing here?" Alex asked wincing as her mother pulled the knife from her leg.

"Deaton called, I had to come and check on my girl didn't I?" she smiled tears rolling down her cheek.

"I missed you mumma" Alex smiled sadly her fingers beginning to twitch.

"I know I'm so sorry baby, I'm ba-" Suddenly her mother was cut off, with a cough, a hand clutching at her stomach, Alex frowned worried as her mother lowered her carefully onto the floor. Alex looked over her shoulder and saw Peter standing behind her with a bloody knife.

"I'm so sorry sweetheart, I had to" Peter shrugged looking at her mother seemingly emotionless, leaving as quickly as he appeared.

"Mum!" Alex screamed unable to move.

Tags: @loverofwaytoomanythings618 @fox-in-a-mousetrap-8 @brien-odylan @lusyschwa @chewie-redbird @all-will-be-well-love @imperfect-circle @april-14-blog @walkxthexmoon @aieshawilliams2001  @screamxqueenx94 @riseandshinelittleblossom

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @azurarainstuff!

I hope you'll enjoy your gift as much as I enjoyed making it :)

Read on AO3

*****

Christmas in Five Easy Steps

Baking and Decorating

Derek groans. His feet ache and there’s a twinge in the small of his back even werewolf healing can’t get rid of. He’s well aware he’s overdone it today but he wants everything to be perfect when Stiles – not forgetting the rest of the pack – get home tomorrow.

They’ve been gone for a week and though Derek’s the one who’d insisted they go, he’s also the one who’s had to spend seven days in a house too large for one and six nights in a bed too cold without the warmth of his mate pressed against his back.

On the other hand, without Stiles hovering over his shoulder and swooping in to take away anything heavier than a cup of tea from his hands, regardless of the number of times Derek has growled “I’m a werewolf, Stiles!” at him, Derek has actually been able to get things done. And if the price is a few aches? Well, he’s not going to tell anybody about them.

With a last look at the golden ornament, he steps down from the stool and with yet another groan bends to grab it and put it aside. His mate may have grown into his long limbs over the years but leaving anything out on the floor is just asking for him to trip over it; and Derek’s not about to have his hard work ruined by Stiles’ clumsiness – no matter how adorable he may find his flailing, not that Derek’s going to admit to that.

Slowly he walks out the room, carefully closing the sliding doors behind him, spends a few minutes doing the dishes and cleaning up a little, postponing the trip up the stairs and into the cold and empty bed. He keeps telling himself that it’s just for a few hours and soon he’ll be back to wishing Stiles would just leave him alone for five minutes; it doesn’t really work but there’s really nothing left to do and he is tired so he turns off the light and makes his way to the bathroom where he puts on the oversized t-shirt that still smells vaguely of Stiles (and hadn’t that been a sight, the shirt still loose on Derek’s expanding frame and his mate had been practically swimming in it), brushes his teeth before heading to the bedroom where he slips under the covers with his favorite book.

Derek wakes to the sun in his eyes and a glance at the clock tells him there’s only a few hours until Stiles gets home. Elated, he rolls out of the bed, stumbles into the bath and is showered and dressed in thirty minutes flat. He’s not as fast these days as he was just a few months ago, not to mention that there’s significantly more of him anyway. He waddles down the stairs into the kitchen where he turns on the oven to heat before taking the different cookie doughs out of the fridge.

Times passes in a blur of cutting, rolling, shaping, spooning dough onto the baking sheet, putting them in the oven and taking out the finished results, leaving them to cool off while refilling the baking sheet and then repeating the process over and over again. By the time the last batch is merrily baking away, Derek’s sweaty and hungry and debating whether he should eat lunch or simply take advantage of his hard work. The decision’s taken from him as a pair of arms snakes around his middle and a voice he hasn’t heard in two days whispers:

“Honey, I’m home.”

He turns in Stiles’ arms, his own coming up to wrap around him and then they just stand there, hugging each other tight while surrounded by the smell of cinnamon and burning cookies. Not that either of them particularly care, at least not until the smell becomes offensive enough to have him gagging and Stiles turns off the oven and disposes of the burnt cookies and Derek goes outside to sit on the porch.

It’s only a few minutes later when Stiles comes out with a jacket that he places on the table and two steaming mugs, one of which he hands Derek who smiles at the smell and sight of cocoa and marshmallows. They sit in companionable silence, Derek basking in the feel of contentment at having his mate home again, soaking up his scent and presence while slowly sipping his drink. They’re on their second cup when Stiles begins talking (and really Derek’s amazed he managed to keep quiet this long), tales of the conference he and the pack has just been at, all the people he met and how many of them had expressed regret that Derek hadn’t been able to attend, though once Stiles had explained why, they’d sent their well-wishes and congratulations. Derek takes it all in with a stunned surprise; he’d hoped that maybe one or two of the packs present would agree to form some sort of alliance, but Stiles has managed to bring back several invitations for negotiations as well as a few who’d be honored to come visit Hale-land once Derek’s up for it.

But soon it becomes too cold to sit outside so Derek stands and grabs Stiles’ wrist dragging him inside and up the stairs. Stiles goes willingly, knows Derek has missed his scent and bemoaned the fact that it has faded from their bed. They quickly shed almost every layer of clothing before getting under the covers, Stiles’ front against Derek’s back, their hands entwined on Derek’s protruding belly and they both breathe a little easier in the cocoon of them.

Gift shopping

Derek loathes Christmas shopping; there are too many people gathered in too little space, the smells are overwhelming (he was grateful he’d yet to have lunch while passing the perfume store as he’d otherwise have lost it right there. Not that dry heaving was that great an experience, but it was easier to hide), and if one more of these buffoons bump into him he’s most likely going to rip their throats out with his teeth. The thought has barely made it through his mind before there’s the calming presence of pack next to him, as Scott sidles up on his left and Erica to his right; it had been a surprise to everybody (especially Derek) when the younger man had – entirely unprompted by Stiles might he add – come knocking on his door shortly before leaving for college and apologized for everything that had gone down with the Argents. They’d talked – well, Scott had talked while Derek had grunted and listened – for nearly an hour and a close friendship had formed.

It was also the two betas who had dragged Derek to this hell hole and as such were responsible for his suffering, but right now he was willing to forgive them as he’d just seen the perfect thing to gift Stiles. Erica was already making her way to the store, Derek and Scott hot on her heels.

He doesn’t even think about it, just marches straight up to the sales clerk asking how soon they can deliver and when he’s assured it can be within two days Derek happily signs and pays before leaving the store again. He’s in such a good mood that he even refrains from flashing his eyes at the jerk who tells him to watch what he eats.

Getting home, he makes lasagna and while it’s in the oven Derek manages to fall asleep in the bath tub. It’s worth it though when he’s woken by Stiles nuzzling his ear and then standing there with Derek’s fluffy bathrobe. The lasagna may have had a few minutes too long but it’s still delicious and that’s really all that matters.

Afterwards Stiles does the dishes while Derek picks out the movie; feeling content and happy he picks one of the Star Wars movies, though he makes sure to pick the one with the longest run-time.

When Stiles sees the familiar yellow words he smiles knowingly but doesn’t offer any further comments, just simply turns and goes rummaging through the closet in the hall in search of a few blankets. He returns victorious and sits down, puts a blanket over his legs and places a pillow in his lap and when Derek lays down, he patiently waits for him to wiggle around until he’s lying comfortably before draping the other blanket over Derek’s body.

They’re barely half an hour into the movie, Derek’s warm and happy, there’s a mug of tea in front of him (most likely cold by now) and Stiles’ fingers are doing magical things to his scalp and his other hand is tracing mindless patterns on his stomach only pausing when there’s an occasional friendly kick to his palm. It’s peaceful and reminds him of different times; wordlessly he presses closer to Stiles, thankful when his mate tightens his arms around him but otherwise appears engrossed in what happens on the screen.

He’s gently shaken awake to the sound of the music playing during the end credits. Half asleep he gets to his feet and lets Stiles lead him to their bedroom, asleep once more before his head even hits the pillow. Derek has no recollection of it but he still knows that Stiles presses his lips first to Derek’s stomach then to his brow before laying down behind him. Stiles’ legs tangles with his own and his arms wraps around him, his face tucked against Derek’s nape. It’s how Derek wakes in the fuzzy almost light just before dawn, has him breathe a little easier from a nightmare already forgotten and lets him fall back asleep.

Getting the tree

There’s chill in the air when the whole pack gathers to go Christmas tree hunting. Derek has silenced every protest Stiles has made (which means he’d glared at his mate and informed him that either Derek was going or Stiles could find somewhere else to live), but has dutifully bundled up in the thermal jacket, the gloves, the scarves (one red, the other green) and the cap Erica had given him with the stupid tassel on top. Derek was slowly melting away and feeling decidedly uncomfortable but Stiles was still babbling worriedly about the drop in temperature and whether or not there would be ice on the road. Derek just rolled his eyes at the man and took the passenger seat of the Jeep.

It wasn’t the same baby blue monstrosity Stiles had been driving all those years ago, but rather a newer and safer model that Derek would never tell just exactly how much it had cost him, just said that it had been worth every penny and if Stiles was so against it he could go back to riding his bike. Stiles would usually stick out his tongue (way past 25 and he was a paragon of maturity) and hug Derek tight before making dinner.

It wasn’t often Stiles did, between his job, the pack and emissary duties, the clock often struck both six and seven before the door closed behind him, whereas Derek worked from home and would make the preparations when needing a break. So there was no way he wasn’t taking advantage of Stiles’ cooking when he could seeing as that meant he got to sit on a chair watching the silly little dances and listening to Stiles’ offkey singing. It was probably testament to just how far gone Derek was on the human that he didn’t even try to hide the smile at his mate’s antics.

They parked next to the rest of the pack and while Stiles was busy hugging his friends, Derek sneakily divested himself of some of the layers to prevent himself from getting heat stroke, quite a feat when it was barely 14 degrees outside, but somehow Stiles has managed to forget that werewolves run significantly hotter than humans, not to mention that the hormones were making it impossible for him to properly regulate his temperature and they’d been living with the windows opened for the past two weeks, much to Stiles’ dismay.

Once free of some of the offending garments (he kept the cap, gloves, and the green scarf as it was the lightest and the woolen poncho which he had no idea where his mate had gotten) he stepped out of the car and went to retrieve the ax and saw from the trunk. Then he made his way over to the pack, glared at Stiles as his mouth dropped open as if to say something and then wordlessly handed the tools to Boyd - Derek wasn’t about to go fell or carry a tree large enough to fit inside the house because he wasn’t an idiot - before hugging the pack tight and scent-marking them all.

When all the greetings were done with, Stiles grabbed his hand and they began the trek deeper into the tree farm.

They walked between the rows of trees, carefully looking over each one deemed tall enough; their cheeks red and their noses running and the two humans complaining about the wind, much to the amusement of everybody else.

And then he saw it, a majestic tree in a deep green color probably seven or eight feet tall. With a growl he caught Boyd’s attention who turned to follow his eyes and with a nod began the process of cutting it down. The others soon caught up and came over to help, wide smiles on their faces and excited yells when the tree finally toppled over. Boyd handed the tools to Allison before helping Erica and Scott carry it back to the cars where Jackson helped with securing it to the jeep and then they drove back home.

~

It’s Isaac who makes the hot chocolate that Derek’s drinking while the rest of the pack is having a snowball fight. It’s not that he doesn’t want to join, it’s just that the steam rising from the mugs had smelt heavenly and someone had decided to throw a tantrum that had miraculously stopped the instant he’d taken the first sip. The pack had been too busy trying to put snow down each others sweaters and Derek had made sure none of Isaac’s hard work had gone to waste.

He’s enjoying their laughter and loud shrieks though it’s tinged with the bittersweet memories of winters past. As if reading his mind there are suddenly cold lips pressed against his forehead, and Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ legs pulling him awkwardly closer and nuzzling against his stomach.

The scent of Stiles and the strong pack bonds calms him, soothes the hurt enough that he can tip his head back and send his mate a smile. Soon after, they call it a day and head inside, getting mattresses, pillows and blankets for the lot of them, before pulling something up on Netflix and spending the rest of the evening in a puppy pile with Derek and Stiles in the middle.

Christmas dinner

It had been Derek’s idea to invite everybody to their house for Christmas dinner. Stiles had wanted to protest but one look at the alpha’s face and he’d sunk back into the couch, a soft look on his face and just let Derek do what he wanted. Of course, that was before the man had rearranged the furniture in the living room to not only make room for the stupid tree but also to vacuum every inch of the floor before apparently crawling around on it while washing it. When Derek had complained about his sore knees Stiles had made the mistake of suggesting that maybe he could do it instead; he’d found it in his best interest to make an impromptu visit with his dad.

In the end, the house had been cleaned from cellar to roof, the windows were sparkling and there was a pleasant but thankfully faint smell of lemon everywhere. Stiles had volunteered himself to change the beddings in every room - enough for each pack member to always have at least their own bed - and despite the fall out when he’d offered his help with the floor washing, this time Derek had accepted with a grateful smile and a quick peck to Stiles’ lips; Stiles had been humming happily for hours after.

With the cleaning out of the way they sat down to plan Christmas dinner, both making long lists of what they’d still need to get before being ready to feed eight werewolves, a banshee and five humans.

~

Derek drove while Stiles was sitting in the passenger seat fiddling with the radio. For a day in December, it was suspiciously devoid of anything remotely connected to Christmas so when the notes of “Jingle Bells” came through the loudspeaker he let go of the button and leaned back. Derek was scowling at the road ahead of them, inexplicably unhappy with that particular song even if he couldn’t stop his fingers tapping along to the rhythm. However, Stiles did not miss the relieved sigh as he parked the car and with a twist of the keys cut off the singer mid-chorus.

They got out of the car and went for one of the extra large carts, Stiles graciously letting Derek steer the damn thing (he would swear there was at least one person hired to make sure there was something wrong with at least one wheel on every cart, and he had one too many times been unable to push the cart after filling it halfway to even bother having an argument about strenuous activities that Derek would ignore anyway because he was “a werewolf, Stiles!”).

While Derek was pushing the cart down the aisles, meticulously ticking off items on his list whenever getting to the shelf with them, Stiles went left and right, looked at and touched everything, sometimes consulting the list but more often than not grabbing things seemingly at random before turning and making his way to wherever Derek had gotten. Then he’d place whichever item he brought with him in the cart before taking Derek’s hand following for a few steps before darting off again.

It drove Derek nuts, the lack of sticking to the agreed upon plan and the way Stiles got things in the wrong order, but he had long since learnt that this was Stiles’ way of shopping and there was no changing it, so rather than get annoyed, he’d pause in his tracks, shaking his head slightly, look after Stiles with a fond smile and then rearrange the contents of the cart for a more efficient usage of the space. Then he’d go in search of the next item on the list, awaiting his boyfriend’s return and the reassuring touches they’d share for the brief moments Stiles could persuade himself to stay still.

It’s more than an hour before they reach the checkout and by then Derek’s ears are ringing, his feet are swollen and he’s this close to flashing his eyes in the hopes that will get the line moving just a little faster. Luckily, Stiles sidles up to him at just the right time, presses close to his side and slings his arm around him, lazily rubbing at the foot shaped imprint on Derek’s side; he’s rewarded with a gentle kick that makes Derek turn his head and with a smile, nuzzle behind Stiles ear, letting his boyfriend’s presence calm him until he no longer wants to reach over and grab the poor cashier and rip his throat out with his teeth.

Getting everything into the car and then being surrounded by nothing but the scent of them and the sound of Stiles humming along to Christmas carols is enough to drive the last of the murderous thoughts away.

~

Stiles is singing along to the music coming from the loudspeaker, bobbing his head as his fingers are flying, sending potato peels all over the kitchen. Derek, on the other hand, is sitting perfectly still, bending slightly forward to make sure the peels end up in the garbage can, though about 99% of his attention is on Stiles.

They finished all the boring parts - peeling, chopping, doing dishes and other prep work - in companionable silence, except for Stiles’ singing that was sometimes quiet enough even Derek couldn’t hear it and at other times so loud he was glad they didn’t have any neighbors.

Soon though the kitchen and, to a lesser extent, the whole house fills with the smells of meat cooking and pies baking and suddenly there’s a plate being placed in front of him with enough sandwiches to feed a small army (or a werewolf) and Derek’s suddenly realizing how hungry he is, so with a grateful smile he starts eating.

A few hours later with the table set and the two of them freshly showered, the pack starts slowly trickling in. Each of them with their arms full of presents, candy, more food, soft drinks, wine and what seems like a million more things. Derek just tells them where to put everything before going back to the kitchen to carve the meat.

Dinner is loud, everybody’s talking and laughing and Derek basks in the warmth of pack and mate and the occasional kick to his side where Stiles’ hand is resting when he isn’t waving it around putting emphasis on whatever story he’s telling.

There are stories of Christmases past, tales of pranks pulled and silly gifts exchanged and Derek even finds himself laughing joyously at Peter retelling the story of how Laura had spoiled Santa Claus for Cora and how Talia had refused to ‘save’ her eldest from the wrath of what was essentially a tiny puppy wreaking havoc in her room. When the story ends, Derek catches Cora’s eyes across the table and they share a melancholy smile before being brought into different conversations. Stiles, ever perceptive, snakes his arm around Derek’s waist pulling him a little closer.

Eventually all the food is eaten and the rest has been cleared away, everything washed and dried and back in its place and they all make their way to the living room, finding their usual places. The lights on the tree are on and there’s a fire going in the fireplace, Erica’s crushing Stiles and Scott in Risk while Lydia and Boyd are discussing some obscure mathematical theory that Derek has never in his life heard about. Allison and Isaac are playing a card game he’s forgotten the name of and where the rules seem to change every time they play any way. Cora and Jackson have both gone outside where Derek can hear them sparring, Peter and Chris offering advice the two betas pretend to ignore. John and Melissa have gone to bed as both had been working all day to be able to have a few days off to spend with the rest of the pack.

It’s probably a few hours later when Stiles gently wakes him and hand in hand they go up the stairs, falling into bed together. The last thing Derek remembers is being surrounded by his mate and then there’s nothing.

Opening presents

Derek wakes at dawn. It has less to do with excitement and everything to do with his bladder currently being the stand-in for a soccer ball. He can’t claim to hate it too much though, not when he wakes to Stiles lying on his back, mouth hanging open and soft snores coming from him; the human may deny doing it but Derek thinks it’s adorable and if it hadn’t been for the urgency he’d spend minutes looking at him.

Quietly he slips out from under the covers, waddles to the en suite where he pees and then washes his hands and with a final look (and a smile, after all Derek is the biggest sap of them all) at the sleeping man, he makes his way down the stairs and into the kitchen.

He’s not particularly quiet, if the wolves haven’t learnt to sleep from the noises of someone making breakfast by now then Derek has no qualms waking them. First he makes the batter for pancakes before getting the bacon started; once the oven door slams closed behind the first batch, he gets the fruit - something Stiles had insisted on when Derek had refused to either serve turkey bacon or deny the sheriff as much as a single piece - and by now is seen as essential to the meal by the whole pack.

Derek peels the oranges and slice a few different melons but leaves the apples and bananas for when the others wake and are ready to eat, not wanting them to turn brown and look unappetizing. He puts a few different kinds of cheese on a plate, a few slices of pepper as decoration and then back in the refrigerator so as not to get too warm. There’s the low rustle of covers being pushed aside and feet across the floor alerting him to the fact that some of the pack are waking up and soon there’s the sound of steps down the stairs. He knows without looking that it’s Erica, puts down the knife and opens his arms anticipating the embrace she willingly partakes in.

A kick makes her let go with a laugh and she offers to lend him a hand but he just shakes his head and waves her off. Jackson’s the second one down, still not as free with physical affection as the rest of them so he sticks to a slap to Derek’s shoulder; in retaliation Derek grabs him and puts him in a headlock, dragging his knuckles across Jackson’s scalp messing up his hair. The beta ducks his head trying to hide his pleased smile as he takes his seat next to Erica.

Before long there are only two empty chairs at the table, Derek flipping pancakes like he’s getting paid to do it. There’s a crash from upstairs and Stiles’ drowsy “everything’s fine” followed by a string of curses before the sounds of him moving are getting closer.

With the whole pack present Derek takes the plates stacked high with pancakes and puts them on the table only to turn and almost topple Stiles over. His hair’s sticking out left and right, there are lines on his face from the pillowcase and a faint trace of drool on one of his cheeks. He’s wearing his Batman-pyjamas and one sock, his eyes half closed as he’s not entirely awake yet and his nostrils are flaring at the smell of coffee and food. Still he bends enough to nuzzle against Derek’s stomach whispering a quiet “good morning” before finding his own seat.

Once Derek has filled his own and Stiles’ plates, the rest of the pack falls upon the food as ravenously as… well, as wolves. Breakfast isn’t quite as loud an affair as dinner had been, everybody eager to eat as fast as possible to get to the important part of the morning: The opening of their Christmas presents. Soon most of the food is gone, cups and glasses emptied too and they all lean back in their chairs with groans and a chorus of “thank you for the food.”

But not even their filled stomachs are enough to deprive them of gifts and soon they’re all getting to their feet, making their way to the living room, abandoning the mess behind as if by silent agreement deciding to leave it for later.

Derek takes his favorite spot on the couch with Stiles sliding in next to him and soon they’ve managed to manoeuvre themselves so that Derek’s sitting in the vee of Stiles’ legs with Stiles’ arms around him, his hands resting on his distended belly and Derek’s hands on top of them. Together they watch the pack distributing presents left and right, the ones for Derek and Stiles ending up on the couch with the two of them.

When all the gifts are removed from where they lay under the tree, everybody starts tearing up the paper, the room filled with appreciative ‘oooh’s and ‘ah’s and every other variation thereof.

When everything’s revealed and while the wrapping paper is being dealt with, Derek watches Chris and Erica sneaking out. The room’s suspiciously silent when they return with something large between them that they put down on the floor. It takes a little effort but Derek manages to untangle himself from Stiles’ legs and turning to him with an expectant look on his face.

“It’s for you,” he says, chuckling when Stiles scrambles to get up and with an eagerness usually reserved for two-year-olds, starts ripping off the paper. Once it’s all off, he takes a step back before turning with a look of awe in his eyes.

“Is that--?” he begins and when Derek nods he breaks into a smile so wide Derek thinks he should be blinded by it.

“You!” Stiles laughs, a little disbelieving, a lot happy. “I can’t believe you actually got our kid a Millennium Falcon cradle. You huge dork.”

Derek smiles because Stiles is the one who painted Endor’s forest on one of the walls in the nursery, is the one who filled it with wolves that Derek would recognize anywhere (Peter and Cora the ones who’d helped him get the colors and personalities right) and Stiles is the one who’d hung a mobile over the changing table with the little Leia, Luke, Han and Chewbacca action figures dangling from it.

They spend the rest of the day cuddled close on the couch surrounded by their pack, with hot chocolate to warm their stomachs and stories filled with life and laughter to warm their hearts.

~*FIN*~