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reveluving · 7 months

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top notes ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: danger has never smelled so... enticing.

warnings: implied s~mut; blood kink (minors DNI!), failed home invasion + minor character death & fluff!

a/n: we're back with another vampire wifey because it was only right to include them in this little event! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'It was luring them to you.' ;

Something was amiss.

Peter knew Deuc felt the same when they turned to each other at the same time, brows furrowing and muscles tensing. Whatever it was, it had them dropping the supplies they had been arguing over before rushing out of the grocery store with inhumane speed.

Nobody really visited this side of the block past nine. However, the pair couldn’t care less about bumping into a civilian and potentially giving them a heart attack, especially with looks that could kill a man as they sped up back to the cabin, where you were home alone.

But just as the momentum picked up, they stopped dead in their tracks.

The scent—your scent grew stronger, but it wasn’t your blood. It was the same one you’ve always had, but more addictive, invigorating, even. Attracting their senses like the top notes of a perfume and awakening the much feral side of them, the kind that was only shown between the sheets. It was luring them to you. It only spurred them to run faster than they did before.

It was almost like a race at this point, passing through the forest and breaking through tough branches in their paths like a bunch of twigs. Not long after, the cabin was in sight.

Deuc was the one who slammed the door open, his chest heaving more so because it wasn’t locked rather than the fact that he and Peter had run all the way home in mere minutes. Both the upper and lower levels were dark, other than the moonlight passing through the windows. But it hardly mattered when Deuc’s eyes landed on the movements in the middle of the living room.

Peter snarled, wondering why Deuc froze up by the front door before shoving him to get to you.

“Out of my way.” Only for Peter to stop moving, too.

You were covered in blood, dripping all the way to the necklace you wore. Your nightgown was no better, the red had already made its way under the silk, and the view of the blood trailing down the valley of your breasts only roused the two.

Your scent, plus the very sight of you nearly had them losing control. Their breaths had grown heavier, gazing upon you with half-lidded eyes and an aching need to have you right then and there.

But you didn’t need that. Not now,

“Angel?” Peter called out to you softly, hoping to calm you down the way one would to a scared and wounded animal. His and Deuc’s hearts broke a little at your fearful whimper, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just us.”

Deuc nodded along, holding his hands up the way Peter was to let you know there was nothing to fear, and even then, you could only look down, clenching on the hem of your gown.

They approached you ever so slowly, catching a glimpse of the lifeless body and the sizable puddle of blood that trailed from behind you. A pitiful-looking man, dressed in all black with an expression that was of pure horror.

They could breathe easily, at least for a moment.

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Deuc asked, nodding as you sluggishly shook your head, “Good, good.”

You awaited their reaction; incredulity, repulsion, hostility, anything that would have your stomach dropped for acting so careless and letting your emotions take over you, even for a brief moment. But none came, other than the lust in their eyes, the ones that you missed as you stared at the ground.

You were expecting the absolute worst that the feeling of Peter wrapping his arms around you from behind caused you to jump, “Peter?” You sounded in disbelief, as though you had snapped out of your adrenaline high. Deuc took the spot right beside him, holding your other hand, “Deuc.”

“It’s alright,” He kissed the back of your hand, uncaring of the blood, “Can we turn the lights on, angel? Just in case you’re hurt.”

You couldn’t find it in you to decline the offer, even when you wordlessly told them you were fine just seconds ago. You nodded again, leaning into Peter as he switched the table lamp on just next to him.

For one man, the splatters made it look like a massacre. You were nearly drenched but the other guy was worse and served him right, too.

"Tell us what happened." Peter sought nicely, carefully wiping off a bit of the smear on the side of your lips.

You let out a shaky breath.

"I came down from the bedroom," You covered your eyes, not even thinking twice about the blood that you smeared on your face, and neither did Peter as he consoled you by rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I-I don't know how I didn't hear him."

You did know, and you hated yourself for it. You dropped your guard, growing too comfortable with the sanctuary you've built ever since you met the men holding you.

"I panicked. H-He... He didn't smell either of you." Your throat tightened. You remembered how your stomach dropped upon realizing that it wasn't them or the pack. How you slammed him against the wooden floor before removing his mask. The knife he had in his hand slid far from his reach, though he made a futile attempt to get it.

The way your evil grin made his body run cold before you sneered in his ear, "You've gone far enough now."

You ignored his pleas and beg, only driving you forward to end his ways as you pierced your fangs into his neck. You made sure to make it as painful as possible as he thrashed and cried out like a man slaughtered in your steel grip. His movements only made it worse for him as the blood splattered out of his body uncontrollably, dousing you both in red.

But just as the fun started, you were brought back to reality. Never in your life have you ever scooted back so abruptly, moving away as if your skin was burnt badly.

You even tried to rub the blood off you, even if you knew you were just making a fool out of yourself.

“M’sorry.” You weren’t sorry for killing the man, he deserved it. You were sorry for worrying them. This wasn't your first rodeo, but you haven't done it since moving back in Beacon Hills. Plus, no one was there for you when it happened. You had to wallow in despair, pick yourself up and act like it didn't happen.

Rinse and repeat.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. He should've known better than to think no one was living in a well-kept cabin." Deuc clicked his tongue, snarling at the dead body before leaning in for a peck on your forehead.

Peter hummed in agreement, easing your train of thoughts with kisses on your sensitive neck.

It made you wonder; did you act the way you did because you were scared? Or because you have restrained your dark side long enough before it snapped? Or had you done so because the 'old' days of Peter and Deuc's ways were starting to rub off on you, even for the greater good?

Then again, you were doing yourself a favour. Hell, you were doing everyone a favour. Had the law cuffed him up instead, who knows what tricks he would've had behind closed doors to be free? Then, he'd just terrorize the neighbourhood again, or worse, amp up his acts as revenge.

The more you thought it through, your rational side dispelling your doubts and concerns, the less scarier it became.

"Feeling any better?" Peter murmured against your skin, prompting you to respond with an 'mhm'. You finally looked up at Deuc, who gave you a warm smile. You mustered up a smaller one, reaching over to cradle his face with both hands, only to pull away just as fast as you somehow forgotten about the blood.

"Sorry," You mumbled, but he wasn't having it, taking your hand in his and placing it back on his cheek. Your smile grew a little more, looking over your shoulder and being surprised by Peter surging forward to press his lips to yours.

A giggle bubbled in your throat when Deuc closed the gap between the two of you, nipping on your shoulder, the side that Peter hadn’t touched yet.

This moment alone had only reminded them of how incredibly exquisite of a being you were. You were delicate just as you were deadly. Not that they had forgotten about it, not at all, but this—this was a sight to behold. Though they’ve seen you in action countless times, you have never let your anger fully take control of you, not even in the most dire situation.

You were too special not to appreciate, the crème de la crème, too good for this godforsaken world, even for them.

But oh, they were too greedy to let you go.

But Peter also couldn’t help himself when he opened his mouth.

"As sweet as this is, I have a confession," Oh, boy. Deuc had a feeling where this was going, "Has anyone ever told you how hot you look covered in blood?"

Deuc sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. But he couldn’t blame him.

“What? You going to sit there and deny it?” Peter scoffed at Deuc before nuzzling his nose against yours, “I know you caught her scent when were in the forest.”

Deuc’s face hardened, causing you to blink quizzically.

“My scent?”

“It was…” Intoxicating. Enticing. A taste worth dying for. “Pure perfection.”

Your eyes grew wide. You were unaware of such a fact, but then again, they were the same dangerous duo who found you special the first time you met them. The ones who saw you as remarkable when egotistical pups or any trespassers are panic-stricken by your presence.

“I… Really?” You would’ve looked so innocent if not for the bloodbath, and that only turned them on even more. There was a chance you wouldn’t be up for it, but there was no harm in asking.

“Really. I almost lost control when we came here,” Peter swiped the pad of his thumb across your lips. He cocked his head in Deuc’s direction, “Him, too.”

You turned to the latter, silently gasping at he stared down at you both lovingly and sensually. Though, you couldn’t lie and say this wasn’t turning you on either.

And the second they let out a dangerous groan, the same time you began rubbing your thighs together no matter how subtle you were trying to be, you knew you couldn’t hide it and you didn’t want to.

“What do you say?” Peter’s warm breath tickled your neck.

“In this?” You managed to gesture at the grotesque display you were covered in, or at least it was in your eyes.

“Especially in this.” He replied without missing a beat, easily lifting you so your legs straddled his lap, wide enough for you to squeal as Deuc moved closer to you.

“Your call, angel.” Deuc caressed the apple of your cheek, “You say the word and we’ll take good care of you.”

You wanted nothing more than to be doted and fucked by your beloveds.

“Yes.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: we love our protective husbands, don't we! ;) ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

#— reve's reverie 🌹#reve's quirky reverie 🕷#peter hale x reader #peter hale x f!reader #peter hale x you #peter hale #deucalion x reader #deucalion x f!reader #deucalion x you #the deucalion #deucalion #ian hohen #gideon emery #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf x you #teen wolf fanfiction

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justauthoring · 5 years

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No Reason To (18/50)

Prompt: “And I guess… when it comes down to it, I trust you.”

It has come to my attention that by adding links to my posts, it stops that post from being seen in the tags tagged. So, sadly, I will no longer be able to link previous parts of NRT on new chapters. BUT all part can be found easily on my “No Reason To Series MasterList!” found in my bio.

A/N: Here we go!

Send me a little comment in the ask section or leave it below on what you thought of this chapter. As usual, I hope you all enjoyed!

AGAIN, remember if you’d like me to continue this series, just leave a little comment or an ask letting me know. I will NOT continue the series if no one wants me to.

Please don’t plagiarize my work - I spend a lot of my time writing, copying and pasting destroys that. If you want to repost my work. please ask first - but even then I might say no.

Pairing: Stiles x McCall!Reader

Based off of: Teen Wolf 03x11 and 03x12

“Derek?”

Grabbing said man by the cheeks, you repeatedly shake him, desperate for him to wake the hell up. It isn’t working.

Pulling back just in time, you watch as Stiles slaps Derek across the cheek, you having to squint your eyes to properly see. The lights keep flickering on and off, and your heart is racing quicker than you think is healthy. You’re worried about Scott, you’re worried about your mother, and somehow you’re stuck here, trying to snap Derek awake.

“Come on,” you bellow, “wake up!”

“Derek!”

Stiles slaps him one more time, it, unsurprisingly, not working before he reels his arm back once more. Your eyes widen when you see him clench his fist, and before he can hit Derek, you grab his wrist. “You’re just gonna punch him?” You ask, eyes wide as you meet Stiles.

Huffing, Stiles’ shakes his head; “what else do you want me to do? We need to get him out of here!”

Sighing, you let go of Stiles’ are when you realize he’s right, making sure you’re out of the way. But, just as Stiles moves punch Derek across the cheek, his eyes suddenly snap open and he grabs Stiles’ wrist much like you had a second ago. Your eyes widen, and you let out a breath of relief as Derek’s eyes slide across your own, before glancing around the elevator.

Breathless and with a gruff voice, Derek asks; “where is she?”

“Jennifer?” You question, your voice cracking. “Gone with my mom,” when the reality of your words hit you, you let out a shaky cry, shaking your head and avoiding Derek and Stiles’ gazes.

“He took her?” Derek asks, no doubt directed towards Stiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles answers, voice shaky. “And if that’s not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion, okay? So we gotta get you out of here. The police are coming right now. Y/N!” Snapping out of your stupor at the sound of your name, you spin, helping Stiles pull Derek up and steady him.

“What about Cora?” Derek breathes, meeting your eyes.

Your knee pounces, antsy. You can’t handle the not knowing. Not knowing if your mother was okay, where she was. Not knowing where Scott was or what he was doing. Not knowing when you’d see either of them again.

Letting out a heavy exhale, you let your head fall in your hands, rubbing at your eyes tiredly. As you lean forward, refusing to pick your head up, you feel Stiles’ hand, who’s next to you, fall on your shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. You don’t turn to look at him, but the reassurance that he’s there does help calm nerves a little bit and brings a small smile to your lips.

However, a moment later, his grip turns a little more aggressive and he’s shaking you. “Y/N,” he calls, voice urgent but barely above a whisper. “Y/N, you need to look, right now.”

Brows furrowed, you finally raise your head, pulling your hands away and turning your head to the right, meeting Stiles’ wide eyes. He points to his right, and your gaze slides across the many officers filing inside the hospital, trying to figure out what’s got Stiles so upset. That’s when you see him.

Your father.

You feel your heart drop as you meet his eyes, instantly turning your head away and looking the other direction. You can feel Stiles’ eyes on you, glancing at you worriedly, but at that moment, it’s taking every fiber of your being not to get up and run the other direction. Your father is the last person you want to see right now.

Stiles let’s out a sigh, and you know your father is making his way over to you.

Feeling his shadow fall over both you and Stiles, you hesitantly and reluctantly turn to face your father. Once again, your eyes meet his, and his lips part, as if to greet you but you only turn away, shuffling closer to Stiles for comfort.

“A Stilinski at the center of this mess,” your father begins speaking, and your body tenses at the sound of his voice. It’s been a while, and it’s brings back... unwanted memories. “What a shocker. Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?”

“If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.”

You let a small smile grace your features, raising a coy brow up at your father.

“I’ll need you to answer some questions too... Y/N.” Swallowing thickly, you shrug, acting disinterested as your father begins. “Stilinski, where’s your dad, and why’s no one been able to contact him?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles answers instantly, “I haven’t seen him in hours.”

“Is he drinking again?”

Your eyes narrow, “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” you hiss, body tensing.

“Actually, it is. If it helps us find him, that is.”

You move to say more, but Stiles slips his hand into your own, halting you. Meeting his eyes, he silently reassures you, and that’s enough to keep your lips sealed as he turns back to your father. “Who do you mean, again?” Stiles snaps, “he never had to stop.”

“But he did have to slow down,” your father reminds. “Is he drinking like he used to?”

Scoffing, you shake your head at your father. Ridiculous. Thinking he can just come in, suddenly, and demand all the questions.

“All right, how about this?” Stiles huffs, “next time I see him, i’ll give him a field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with ‘F’, end with ‘U’.” Once again, you let out a soft giggle at Stiles’ words, pleased at his quick thinking mind.

Chuckling mockingly, your father shakes his head; “how about you just tell me what the hell happened here? The both of you.”

Sighing, Stiles shakes his head; “I don’t know what happened here. We were stuck in the elevators the whole time.”

“And even if we did,” you add, smiling mockingly up at your father - sickly sweet. “We wouldn’t tell you.”

Jaw clenching, your father reluctantly continues; “you’re not the ones who put the name on the doors, are you?”

Brows furrowing, you glance up at your father, baffled.

“What name?”

You came home to an empty house, you woke up to an empty house.

With your bottom lip in between your teeth, you glance around the kitchen worriedly. The house has never been this quiet, and you’re not sure how to explain it, but it leaves an unsettled feeling inside of you.

And for a while, you just stand there, staring. In the back of your mind, you’re aware Stiles is going to come and pick you up for school, but your body doesn’t move to register that fact. Instead, you just stand there, staring. Where’s your mom? Where’s Scott? And why is your father back?

A series of rapping against your front door causes you to jump, pulling you out of your stupor. You hear Stiles call your name faintly, and swallowing thickly, you push yourself off your counter, calling out; “the doors unlocked!” In the next second, you hear the front door open and close and then before you know it Stiles is stood in front of you, keys in hand.

He meets your eyes, offering a small smile; “hey.”

“Hey,” you whisper back, attempting at a smile but ultimately failing. For a moment, silence passes between the two of you, and then, without any cause or warning, your eyes start to water. You can’t explain it, but much like when Boyd had died, the sight of Stiles just has all your emotions, worries and fears pouring out and you can no longer help yourself.

A choked sob leaves your lips as your hands go to cover them. Shaking your head, you cry out; “i’m sorry,” taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t-I-”

“Hey,” Stiles calls, keys falling on your counter, rushing over to you. He envelops you in his arms, holding you close as you move your arms around him, clutching onto the back of his sweater. You feel like a fool, acting so weak and letting your emotions get the best of you, but after spending a night in an empty house, without the comfort of your brother and mother and terrified that your father would come waltzing through the front door any second, you can’t help yourself. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s not,” you whisper, “I don’t... I don’t know what to do.”

Stiles pulls back, grabbing your face by the cheeks and pulling your eyes on his own. He looks just as rough as you, just as fragile, and it’s clear as day he’s putting on a brave face for the sake of you. “We’re gonna get them back, okay?” He whispers, “my father, your mother... it’s gonna be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” You question, shaking your head. “What if this time we fail? I mean, Scott’s with Deucalion. Deucalion...”

“We’re gonna find them,” Stiles says again, and you’re not sure if it’s to reassure you, or himself. Either way, the words to help calm your nerves just a bit.

“Stiles,” you call, “my father...-”

“We’re not worrying about your father right now, okay?” Stiles interrupts, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “I won’t let him near you. Not again.”

“He could come home any minute,” you explain, shaking your head as you gesture at the house. “I’m surprised he didn’t come home last night. And when he eventually does, I have no idea how i’m gonna explain to him why mom and Scott aren’t her-”

Stiles interrupts you by pressing his pointer finger against your lips. Your body tenses in response, eyes flickering up to meet his own as your mind spins. There’s no doubt that you and Scott have grown considerably close, especially over the past few days, but this... was just a little more than before. You didn’t mind it, per-say, it just took you by surprise.

Stiles, realizing what he did, pulls his hand away. Coughing slightly, he runs a hand through his hair; “how about you come, uh, stay at my house tonight?”

Lips parting, you raise a brow; stunned speechless.

“I mean only if you want to,” Stiles assures, nodding at you. “But that way you can avoid your father, and, well, then we wouldn’t be alone. Until we find Melissa and my dad...”

Licking your lips, you nod slowly, “i’d... i’d love to.”

Stiles eyes widen, hope filling them. “Yeah?”

Smiling, you nod; “yeah.”

Ignoring the racing of your heart, you nod, wiping hastily at your tear-stricken cheeks. Offering a smile up at Stiles, he lets his hands fall by his sides, turning around to grab his keys. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you nod, voice soft. “Let’s go.”

“Lydia just texted me.”

You and Stiles slow in your step, you swiping your phone to unlock it as your eyes slide across the screen, reading her text. Inhaling sharply, you raise your head, meeting Stiles’ eyes; “she says that Aiden won’t text her back.”

Stiles halts then, completely, and he glances behind him before looking back in the direction you’d been going. Understanding his distress, you shove your phone in your back pocket, nodding; “okay, maybe, we can just go over there and-”

You’re interrupted by the sound of Stiles’s phone buzzing. Lips parted, you watch as he pulls his phone out of his front pocket, eyes reading whatever text message had come through. Though, it’s almost immediately clear that something is wrong when his face falls, and his eyes widen just ever so slightly. Furrowing your brows, you shake your head; “what?”

He doesn’t reply, so, taking a step forward, you let out a shaky breath; “what happened? What is it now?”

Shaking his head, almost like a twitch, Stiles blinks; “it’s from Isaac,” he explains, the words stuttered slightly. “Jennifer, she too--she has Allison’s father. She took him.” Your eyes widen, finally understanding the panic in Stiles’ gaze as your heart drops, plummeting it feels like. “She’s got all three now.”

She’s got all three now... your mom...

Lips parting, you glance around, telling yourself, repeatedly, in your mind that it’ll be okay. That you’ll find them, like Stiles had said that morning. But, as you turn to Stiles, there’s obviously something wrong. “There’s still time,” you assure, watching as his skin goes incredibly pale, and he wobbles on his own two feet. It almost looks like his gaze is distant, likes his lost somewhere in his mind.

“We still have time, right?”

“Oh,” Stiles gasps, blinking slowly.

“Stiles?” You call, voice considerably more urgent. “Hey, Stiles, you okay?”

He turns, slowly going in a circle as his chest moves rapidly up and down.

“What is it?” You question, trying to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Once he turns to face you, you take another step forward; “Stiles.”

“I think i’m having a panic attack,” he breathes, a hand held out in front of him as he takes in short, rapid breaths of air.

“Okay,” you breathe out, voice shaky. Taking a step forward, you wrap an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling his own arm around your shoulders as you start pulling him away from the crowd and into the first secluded place you could think of. The boys locker room.

The minute you reach it, you practically slam open the door, moving to grab Stiles by the arm and shutting the door behind yourself. Helping him pull off his backpack, you let it fall to the floor hastily, pulling Stiles towards one of the benches. “Come on,” you urge, helping keep him steady on his feet. “Come on.”

He falls against one of the lockers, sliding to the floor as you crouch before him. “Just try and think about something else,” you call. In the back of your mind, you’re aware that this is just as bad as news for yourself as it is for Stiles. It’s his father, but it’s also your mother. But you can’t worry about yourself now, not when Stiles is like this. You have to be there for him, like he was there for you this morning. “Anything else,” you encourage.

“Okay,” Stiles gasps, his voice strained. “Like what?”

“Uh, happy things,” you stammer, trying to think quickly. “Good things. Uh, friends, family-”

You pause at the look Stiles sends you, shaking your head. “Not family,” you cry, “uh, oh, God. Okay, uh, just...” Looking up, you feel your heart pounding against your chest as Stiles braces himself against the floor, clearly struggling to breathe. “Just try and slow your breathing.”

Gasping, Stiles presses his hand against his chest; “I can’t, I can’t.”

Shuffling forward, you cup Stiles’s cheek with your right hand before cupping the other as well. Pulling his gaze up, you meet his eyes; “shh, shh. Stiles, look at me,” you whisper, keeping your eyes on his and holding his gaze. As he continues to gasp, breath heaving, you gently stroke his cheek with your thumb, feeling your body tense.

Then, before you know it, you’re leaning forward, pressing your lips against his own. Your eyes fall shut, pouring every emotion, every reassurance you can think of behind the kiss, your hands slowly sliding down his cheek, before slowly pulling away. You hesitate pulling away, your forehead leaning against his own, eyes still closed in contentment.

Then, pulling away completely, your hands clasped before yourself, you slowly let your eyes open, meeting Stiles’ gaze almost immediately. His eyes slide around your face, body still shaking slightly as your gaze remains on his eyes, never wavering.

You never knew what kissing Stiles would feel like, but... it was everything you imagined.

“How’d you do that?” Stiles whispers, your faces still inches apart from one another.

“I, uh...” Stammering over your words, your voice raspy, you nod slowly. “I know that, uh, holding your breath could stop a panic attack. When I kissed you... you held your breath...”

“I did?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “you did.”

“Thanks,” Stiles whispers, slowly nodding. “Really smart.”

Letting out a chuckle, you bite your lip, moving slightly so you fall back, on your butt. Stiles does the same, leaning against the locker behind him as you continue; “I don’t know. I just read it somewhere.” You let a small smile fall on your lips, “and if I was really smart, I would tell you to sign up for a few sessions with our guidance counselor.”

Stiles lets out a soft chuckle, letting his head fall. Then, his eyes widen, as if he’s realized something.

“Morrell.”

“Lydia?”

“I’ve been searching for you two everywhere,” Lydia huffs, falling in step with both you and Stiles. Raising her phone, she sends the two of you a glare, “not to mention text. Where the hell have you been?”

You meet Stiles’ gaze out of the corner of your eye, swallowing nervously before returning your attention on Lydia. “It doesn’t matter,” you dismiss, grabbing a hold of her hand and pulling her down the hallway to your left, Stiles following after the both of you. “We need to talk to Ms. Morrell.”

“The Guidance counselor?” Lydia questions, raising a brow. “Why?”

“She has information that can help us,” Stiles explains, opening the door to the guidance office. The three of you hastily make your way inside, Lydia shutting the door behind you as your eyes fall on the girl sat in the chair to your left. She regards you and your friends with wide eyes, bafflement clear in her gaze.

“Are you here for Ms. Morrell?” Stiles questions, hands falling by his sides.

“No,” she shakes her head, “I thought this was gym class.”

“Hilarious,” you snap, sending her a feigned smile. “But we’re not in the mood for funny.”

Coming to stand next to you, Lydia adds on; “do you know where she is?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be waiting here for twenty minutes,” the girl huffs, throwing her hands out by her side in exasperation. “So how about you three back out the door and wait your turn.”

“We’re not here for a session,” Lydia dismisses.

“Well, I am. And I’ve got some serious issues to work on.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” Stiles calls, pulling your eyes on him as he leans past your shoulder, as if to look at the girl sat next to you more closely. “You’re Danielle,” he mumbles, eyes lighting up with recognition. “You’re Heather’s best friend.”

“I was Heather’s best friend,” Danielle corrects, falling back against her seat. “We’ve been working on that issue three times a week.”

“Hold on,” Lydia urges, taking a small step forward. “Did you say Ms. Morrell’s twenty minutes late?”

Danielle nods; “and I don’t know why either, she’s always on time.”

Glancing over at Lydia, it’s clear by the look in her eyes she’s onto something. Taking a step forward, you let your hand fall on her shoulder, pulling her eyes on you. “Lydia,” you call, “what are you thinking?”

Swallowing thickly, Lydia shrugs; “I was seeing her at the beginning of the semester,” she begins explaining. “She was never late.”

Meeting Stiles eyes, you sigh as he speaks up; “then she’s not late. She’s missing.”

“What if we’re not the only ones who think she knows something?” You pose, uncertainty flooding you.

“Then,” Stiles begins, taking a step forward as he rushes towards Morrell’s desk. “I want to know what she knows.” You take a step forward, eyes widening as Stiles’ crouches before her desk, wasting no time before sliding open one of her drawers and scuffling through her files.

“What are you doing?” Danielle asks, sitting up in her seat.

“Trying to find her,” Stiles answers bluntly.

“Those files are private.”

“Yeah,” Lydia nods, “she’s kind of right.”

“Stiles, you can’t just-”

“That ones yours,” Stiles interrupts you, holding a file up in the direction of Lydia. Without hesitation, she steps forward, pulling it out of his hands; “let me see that.”

Leaning over Lydia’s shoulder as she sets the file down, beginning to search through it, you can’t help your curiosity. You can’t really make much out of it, though certain things register in your mind, things Lydia’s confided in you with and apparently the guidance officer as well.

Though, your attention soon falls on a drawing of a tree. For some reason, it sticks out to you.

“Wait, Lydia,” Stiles calls, and when you glance up you realize he’s no longer eagerly searching through Morrell’s things but rather Lydia’s drawing. The one of the tree. Apparently, it’d caught his attention as well. “That’s your drawing.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lydia shrugs, after taking a moment to glance down at it. “It’s a tree.”

“It’s good too,” Danielle comments.

“Thank you,” Lydia smiles over at the girl.

“No,” Stiles dismisses, pushing himself up to his feet. “But that’s the same one, though.”

“Same as what?”

Eyes widening, your lips part; “the same one you’re always drawing in class,” you whisper, cluing into what Stiles’ is reaching for.

“It’s a tree,” Lydia shrugs, brows furrowing. “I like drawing trees.”

“No,” Stiles says again, stepping forward and moving Lydia so she looks down at the drawing properly. “Can’t you see?” When he receives no response, Stiles moves his attention to Lydia’s bag, pulling out her notebook and hastily flipping through the pages. When he’s found the one he’s looking for, Stiles sets the booklet down next to the other drawing, for comparison.

They’re identical.

“There,” Stiles points at the drawing, “see?”

Reaching forward, past Lydia, you flip the page, lips parting when it’s exactly the same tree, just a tad bit smaller. Flipping the page again, and then again, like a cycle, all the trees are the same. Varying sizes, sure, but otherwise same design. Same detail. Same everything.

“Okay,” Danielle speaks, breaking the tense silence as she leans over to grab her bag. “You can have my session. You got bigger issues.”

Letting out a shaky exhale, practically gasping, Lydia shakes her head; “what is this?”

Stiles suddenly reaches forward, halting you from flipping anymore pages. You narrow your eyes in confusion, glancing up at him as you slowly move your hand back over to your side, Stiles grabbing the book from your hands and turning it over, so it’s upside down.

Now, instead of a tree, it looks like the roots of a tree.

“I know where they are.”

“It’s the nematon. That’s where she’s keeping them. It has to be-”

“Stilinski. Y/N.”

You pause in your step, in between both Stiles and Lydia, Stiles’ hand on your lower back as he leads you out of the guidance office. Raising your head at the new voice, the dread that had flooded you yesterday at the hospital returns at the sight of your father. And he’s making his way over to you three.

Slowing his step, Stiles turns to Lydia; “go to Derek, okay?” He advises, briefly meeting your eye. “He and Peter have been there before, so they’ll know where it is. Tell them it’s the root cellar, all right? They’ll know.”

Even as Stiles speaks to Lydia, you find yourself frozen to your spot, clutching at the strap of your bag nervously, watching as your father weaves his way through the crowd.

You jump as Stiles’ hand falls on your shoulder, pulling you from your stupor. With wide eyes, you meet his own, letting out a shaky breath. “Stiles-”

“Stilinski,” your father interrupts, “did you know your dad’s car is in the school parking lot and has been since last night?”

Your knee pounces as you stand there, close to Stiles’ side. You hate that your father has this much of a hold over you, but even just looking at him makes you burn with both hatred and fear. Every fiber of your being despises him as much as you fear him.

Shaking his head, Stiles answers; “no. What does that mean?”

“It means he’s officially missing.” There’s a pause, then; “i’m gonna need to speak with you. Privately.” You can feel his eyes fall on you; “I would like to speak with you as well, Y/N.”

Without even a second of hesitation, Stiles speaks up for you; “if it’s about my dad, what do you need Y/N for?”

Your father pauses, and you watch as his lips part, and he tries to think of a reasonable excuse. One that Stiles can’t deny and one you can’t refuse.

“I haven’t seen Melissa or Scott-”

“Y/N actually has to go to class,” Stiles interrupts your father, smirking up at him. “Big test. Studied all night for it, didn’t you, Y/N?”

You fight back the smile that threatens to grow at Stiles’ words, and instead, meeting the boys eyes, you nod. “Yeah,” you mumble, voice a little raspy as you gain the courage to speak. “Can’t miss it.”

Your father’s jaw clenches and he looks away, annoyance clear as day, but he says nothing further. Nodding, he takes a step back, “let’s go then, Stilinski.” And then he’s turning, heading into the nearest classroom and opening the door. Stiles turns to you almost immediately, knowing he’s short on time as your father pauses by the door, watching the both of you.

“Find Lydia,” Stiles explains, grabbing you by the shoulders. “I’ll deal with your dad.”

Nodding, you grab a hold of Stiles’ hand before he can walk off, meeting his gaze steady. “Thank you.”

Smiling, Stiles nods before you let go of him, watching as he walks into the classroom past your dad. Your father sends you one last glance, one unreadable, before shutting the door behind him.

Lydia had already left by the time you got out of the school, and given that Stiles had given you a ride to school that morning, that meant you were stuck walking. It wasn’t so bad, you guessed. Gave you lot’s of time to think about everything. About how terribly things were going.

You tried not to let it get to you, tired of the sob party you were playing, but it was hard. You’d never felt more alone before, and not having Scott by your side felt odd. Not being able to talk to Melissa felt odd. Even not having Isaac by your side was starting to feel a little odd.

Though, you did have Stiles and that never felt odd or weird, just... natural.

Turning around the corner, now just a few blocks away from Derek’s place, you hug yourself closer, a chill running through your body. It’s a bit weird considering that the sun’s still out, but you ignore it, simply continuing to put one foot in front of the other and make your way to Derek’s.

Though, by the minute, wind seemingly begins to pick up, causing you to slow in your step. Glancing around, your eyes narrow, watching as loose leaves blow past the top of your head and up into the sky. You can’t explain it, but something just feels off. Out of place. It worries you, and without a moment more of thought, you quickly turn, prepared to pick up the speed in your step. But, before you can make it very far, a body blocks your path.

It’s Jennifer.

Taking a step back, eyes widening, you swallow nervously a bemused smile grows on the girls lips. “Y/N,” she greets, “how nice to see you.”

“I was about to say the opposite,” you spit, glaring up at the woman. “What do you want? And where is my mom?”

Jennifer takes a step forward with an air of confidence, like she has absolutely nothing to be afraid of. It terrifies you. “It has come to my attention,” she begins, taking another step forward and therefore, you take one back. “That you hold more purpose than I originally thought.”

Narrowing your eyes, you shake your head; “what does that even mean?”

“I already have the three, your mom and your friends, Allison and Stiles’ parents, sacrifices I need, but... in more ways than one, you are also a guardian yourself.” Your brows furrow, bewilderment flooding you. “Always looking after everyone but yourself. Always looking after Scott.”

Shaking your head, you scoff; “he’s my brother, not to mention twin, of course i’m going to protect him.”

“In a lot of ways, Y/N, you’ve protected him from more than fair.” Jennifer continues, and you can’t help but wonder why she knows all this. How she came to know this. “Bullies, heart break, but most importantly, your dad.” Eyes widening, you take another step back, panic flooding you when you feel your back hit the wall of a building. Jennifer is in front of you within seconds, leaving you no room to escape. “You take it all, so Scott doesn’t have to.”

“How do you even know all of this?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jennifer shrugs, “all that matters is I need you.”

Quickly thickly, you think to throw her back, move her far away enough that you can run off. But even as you focus and put all your strength into the one task, it does nothing. Jennifer does not move, instead, she laughs. Mocking you.

“I am aware of your powers, Y/N,” Jennifer smirks, “that you are a witch. Though, I am also aware you do not know of your true ability yet. Now,” you flinch, watching as she leans forward. Your eyes flash once again, hoping that this time it would work. It doesn’t. “Silly girl,” Jennifer shakes her head, almost mockingly. Then, she’s raising her hand, and fear stills your entire body. But all she simply does is press her pointer finger against your forehead. “It’s time to go to sleep.”

“Y/N!”

The voice is distant, almost like an echo in the back of your mind. Though, it is enough to pull you awake and out of your slumber, the pounding of your head the first thing you register. As you try to peel your eyes open, you find that it hurts, incredibly so, and your vision is blurry.

“Y/N!”

There the voice is again, but it seems almost different. Deeper.

Shifting, you find that you cannot move your arms, no matter how hard you try. It is not just the pain that restricts you, but something that binds your hands behind your back.

Blinking once more, you peel open your eyes, ignore the pounding of your head.

“Come on, sweetie. Wake up. Y/N!”

The voice sounds closer, more familiar too.

“Y/N!”

Something clicks in your mind. That’s your moms voice.

Forcing your eyes to stay open, you shift, blinking repeatedly to clear your blurry vision. Your eyes widen when you see three figures before you, almost in a triangular position, and slowly they begin to clear. Become more recognizable. You first see Chris, Allison’s father. Then Noah, Stiles’ father. And finally, your eyes fall on Melissa. She’s staring at you, clear worry in her gaze as she continues to call out for you, Noah aiding in her position.

“Mom?” You whisper, voice gruff.

Their calls halt the moment you speak, and Melissa shuffles in her binds, as if to reach you. You realize, by glancing around, that you are not tied up against a pole like them, but further back and your arms are tied behind your back. Chains, rather than rope like the other three, bind you, and it leads to a chain connected to the wall.

Without even thinking, you begin to shuffle forward, ignoring the pain that races through you in response. You’re just able to reach Melissa and you fall against her, tears in your eyes.

“I thought you were dead,” you whisper, voice raspy. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Melissa lets out a sob of relief, cradling against you the best she can. “Hey,” she calls, meeting your watery eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You let your head fall against her shoulder, turning to look at the other two. “Scott, Allison and Stiles are working hard to save you guys,” you assure, meeting each of their gazes before returning your own to your mother. “They’re gonna find us. All of us.”

Melissa nods, smiling down at you as Noah lets out a breath of relief.

“I hate to ruin the reunion,” Chris speaks up, pulling your eyes on his. “But I thought the sacrifices were of three, not four.”

Biting your lip, you swallow nervously.

“Yeah, sweetie,” Melissa adds, pulling your eyes on her. “Why are you here? Why did she take you?”

You want to tell her the truth. The truth that both Noah and Chris are aware of, that you’re a witch, but you cannot. Besides, like Jennifer had said, she did not just take you just for your powers. You figured that was the main point, but also because of what you mean to Scott. You guess, another guardian in her ritual of sacrifice strengthens her.

So, shaking your head, you shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“Still working?”

Raising your head at your mother’s question, you turn your attention over towards Chris.

“Yeah,” he nods, voice quiet. “But not for much longer.”

“Anybody else feeling an unbearable itch they can’t itch?” Your mother questions, offering a small smile in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Well, not before you said something, but now, yes, I do.” Noah teases, shaking his head. Leaning against your mother, you bite your lip as you silently listen in on to their conversation. Truth was, even if you had found your mother and Stiles’ and Allison’s fathers, it didn’t do much good if you were captured down here with them.

You just had to hope that they’d figure something out. You believed in Scott and Stiles. You knew they could do it.

The smile on your mother’s lips quickly fades, and fear floods her gaze. “Is she actually going to come down here and slash all of our throats?”

Meeting Noah’s eyes, you wait for his reply. “Nah,” he shakes his head, “she’ll come down and strangle us with a garrote and then slash our throats.”

Rolling your eyes, you let your head fall against the wooden poll behind you. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

As everyone falls silent, you can’t help but glance down at your hands. Long ago, since you’d woken up and registered what was happening, you debated on attempting to use your powers to somehow, however the hell you did it, slip out of your chains. But you couldn’t risk Melissa finding out. It’d taken her weeks to get over Scott being a werewolf, how would she react to you being a witch?

Someone that could move things with her mind, set fire to the things and apparently more that you didn’t know about...

You’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a loud thud coming from above. You feel your heart start to race, already knowing without seeing who it is. Instinctively, you shuffle closer to your mother who responds by doing the same, in an attempt to comfort you.

“It’s just the wind,” Chris says, dismissing your thoughts.

Though, soon after he speaks, the rumbling and thudding gets worst. Your eyes clench shut as dirt falls from the cracks above, desperate not for any to fall into your eyes. Your entire body tenses as you desperately attempt to remain calm.

This is bad. Really bad.

Through the dust and the wind and the ceiling from above caving in on you, you somehow manage to see two figures making their way down the steps, to you and the rest. You quickly identify the two as Allison and Isaac. With no doubt in your mind, Allison quickly falls by her father’s side and you can’t help yourself, but an immediate smile falls on your lips at the sight of Isaac.

“Isaac,” you call, his eyes falling on yours. He rushes over to you and your mother, sliding to his knees next to you. He pauses, your gazes steady and with a shaky exhale, you shake your head, silently telling him you’d explain later.

“Untie her first,” you call over the commotion, gesturing to your mother. Isaac is quick to obey, and when he’s past you, you look back up the way he came, eyes squinting, waiting for Scott or Stiles to make their way down next.

“Where’s Stiles?” You hear Noah bellow, “where’s my son?”

“And Scott?” Melissa breathes,

“They’re coming, all right?” Isaac calls back, working hastily to untie the binds that hold your mother bound. “They’re on their way to help.”

Your attention is soon stolen by a loud crack. Snapping your head upwards, you peer through narrowed eyes as the ceiling above once against cracks, rocks falling on top of you and everyone else. Thunder cracks in response, and your body tenses, curling into yourself.

Turning back to Isaac, you meet his eyes; “hurry!”

“You’re just gonna have to break it!”

Isaac glances up at you, apprehensively.

“Just do it,” you urge, glancing at him from over your shoulder. Isaac nods, swallowing nervously before grabbing the chains wrapped around your wrists. Your faces scrunches up in discomfort as you feel the metal pinch your skin, but it only lasts a matter of seconds before your arms are free.

An immediate breath of relief leaves your lips as Isaac helps you up to your feet, you turning to your mother and grabbing a hold of her without a second of hesitation. You and your mother, along with the rest, hurry to make your way up the stairs, leading out of this place. The ceiling continues to cave from above your heads, furniture around you falling to the ground in response.

“Come on,” Isaac bellows, “let’s get out of here!”

As you move to make your way up the steps, you all don’t make it very far as it collapse’s right before your very eyes. Your lips part, a gasp leaving your lips as you stumble back, pulling Melissa away from you to avoid the collision and anything else.

“Well, that can’t be good.”

You feel arms wrap around your shoulder, pulling you out from under the dirt and everything else. Then, you’re passed to your mother, who holds you close to her, as Noah helps Isaac out from under the foliage as well. The pillars holding the place up only continue to crack and break in response to the storm outside, and your eyes wide as you stare up at the ceiling, it ready to fall and crush you all any second.

Then, suddenly, Isaac is rushing forward, grabbing one of the wooden structures and pushing it upwards, that alone keeping you all from being crushed under it’s weight.

“Isaac!”

It’s clear he’s struggling and you know that he won’t be able to hold it all up on his own forever. His eyes glow yellow in response, and you inhale sharply. Pulling yourself out of your mother’s grip, you ignore her cry of your name, shuffling forwards on your hands and knees before coming to a stop before Isaac. He meets your gaze with wide eyes, shaking his head.

“Y/N-”

“I can help,” you interrupt, raising your hands.

“Y/N!” Your mother screams, “you won’t be able to-”

You ignore her words. Ignore the fear that floods you. You have to do this, damn what happens in response.

With your eyes remaining steady on Isaac’s, you put all your focus and attention on the ceiling and it’s weight above you. You move your hands so your palms are facing upwards, and with a grunt, you help take some of the weight off of Isaac’s shoulders. A gasp instantly leaves his lips in response as some of the weight falls on you.

Without even touching the ceiling, you hold it up.

“What...” You hear Melissa mumble, “how are you...”

She doesn’t say anything more, her words trailing, but you don’t look back at her, afraid of her reaction. Instead, you lower your gaze to the ground, feeling your skin grow warm, sweat building up at the top of your forehead as your muscles strain and ache in response to your powers. You’ve never used this much power all at once, and it exhausts you beyond reason, but you can’t stop.

Everyone will die if you do.

“Is it me, or is this place getting smaller?”

You shake your head at Isaac’s words, clenching your teeth against one another as your strength begins to fade.

A few moments later, it becomes too much.

“I can’t do it,” you hear Isaac rasp, “I can’t hold it. I can’t hold it.”

Around you, the others help, pushing up against the ceiling as best they can. “It’s too much,” you hear Allison cry, “it’s too heavy.”

Then suddenly, some of the weight lifts. Raising your head, your eyes widen when you find Stiles before you, next to his dad, a baseball bat in front of him, holding up the ceiling, or at least, part of it. “I always said aluminum was better than wood,” Noah grins, instantly leaning forward to wrap his arms around Stiles.

Sitting back, you smile at the sight before you, feeling yourself ease, even with everything around you crackling and crumbling. As Stiles pulls back from his embrace with his father, his gaze wanders around the rest, his eyes instantly locking with your own. A exhale of relief leaves his lips as you smile, the two of you shuffling towards one another.

As Stiles wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding onto you closely, you hear him whisper; “I told you to go to Derek,” he mumbles, pulling back. His eyes hold your steady, and despite the concern and fear in his own gaze, you laugh lightly up at him.

Shrugging your shoulders, you offer a small smile; “got lost along the way.”

Biting your lip, you fiddle with your hands in your lap, all too aware of the steady gaze your mother holds on you. You’re not sure what to say, and it’s obvious the timing is anything but right, so you remain silent, anxious. You want to explain to her about everything, tell her about everything, make her understand and more, but you just have to wait.

“Scott?”

You look up, instantly glancing to your left at Stiles as he presses his phone against his ear. At the sound of your brother’s name, your eyes widen. “Yeah,” you hear Stiles reply after a moment, “we’re okay. We’re all okay. What about you, you okay?”

There’s a pause, then; “you think you can come get us?” You watch as Stiles nods his head, and gauging by his reaction, you figure Scott’s coming. “Great, okay, uh, bring a ladder.”

You let out a laugh, along with the others, shaking your head with a roll of your eyes.

“Mom?”

You knock, yet, no reply.

Leaning your forehead against her door, you let out a heavy sigh. This was just like how she’d reacted with Scott, and what had been your biggest fear leading up to this moment. That she would reject you. Even if she eventually got over Scott being a werewolf, what if she never got over you being a witch?

Knocking once more, you pounce your knee in anxiousness, practically willing your mother to answer the door.

She doesn’t.

“Uh, okay,” you swallow thickly, fighting back your tears. “I just wanted to say i’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t tell you about what I am. I wanted to,” you assure, clenching your fists tightly, almost painfully. “But I was afraid... afraid of this. Of you rejecting me...” You only receive silence in response and after a moment of wishful hoping, you take a step back. “Well, i’m off to school. I’ll see you later, okay?”

You wait a moment, praying for a reply. And when you, expectantly, don’t receive one, you let out a sigh, turning and walking off. You don’t make it very far before you hear the faint sound of a door opening and there’s a hand on your wrist, pulling you back. “Mom-” The word leaves your lips in a call of surprise, but before you can say anything more, you find yourself engulfed in your mothers embrace.

You pause, lips parting, before you ease into the warmth, hugging her back. And when a moment’s passed, and the two of you are pulling away from one another, you can’t help yourself; “mom?”

“I’m sorry,” she cries, voice cracking. “It’s just a little hard process that both of my children are of the supernatural.”

Glancing down at your feet, you frown.

“But i’m not upset or afraid of you,” Melissa reassures, cupping your cheek. “I could never be afraid of you.”

Placing your hand over her own, you smile softly; “really?”

“Of course,” she nods, smiling brightly up at you. “I love you.”

Letting out a laugh of relief, one that’s a little choked up with a cry, you lean forward, pressing a kiss against Melissa’s cheek before leaning back. After a moment of contentment, your lips part in realization, “I really should be heading to school,” you explain, pulling back from her grasp. “But, i’ll, uh, see you tonight?”

She nods, without hesitation and just as you turn to leave, she stops you again. “Your father will be joining us, as well, Y/N.”

Body tensing, you hide the fear that radiates through you, turning your head over your shoulder and nodding at your mother. “I know,” you mumble, “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

Making your way through the hallway, you’re once again halted by the sight of your father. He’s speaking to Scott, and you can’t hear exactly what he’s saying, but it’s obvious it doesn’t last long. Right as you come to a stop before them, Scott slips his way past his father, meeting your eyes and quickly making his way over to you.

As he sets his hand on your lower back, leading you towards the stairs and down them, you meet your father’s gaze. It’s brief, quick, but you hate every minute of it.

When the two of you are outside and far away, you can’t help but ask; “what’d he want?”

“Nothing,” Scott shrugs, “or at least, I didn’t listen to him long enough to hear it.”

Smiling to yourself, you let out a soft giggle. “Good,” you nod, meeting Scott’s eyes. “He doesn’t deserve it.”

Scott nods, obviously agreeing with you, he just doesn’t know that it’s for different reasons.

“We meeting Stiles at school?” You question, raising a brow your brothers way.

“Yeah,�� he nods, “wanna ride with me?”

Smiling brightly, you skip on over to his motorcycle, “sure.”

As you and Scott make your way to school, you find yourself genuinely happy. Despite the reappearance of your father, Scott and your mom are back. And now, Melissa knows about what you are, or at least that you have some sort of supernatural power, and she took it a lot better than she did with Scott. You probably have your brother to thank for that, too.

And even though being taken by Jennifer had been scary and unexpected and anything but what you wanted, she made you realize that you had a lot more power than you’d originally thought. Now that you were aware, you could almost feel it bubbling inside of you, waiting to burst.

You just had to figure out how to use it.

Plus, things were back to normal. Everything was okay, everyone was safe. And as you walked through the doors of the school, Scott by your side, you smiled brightly as Stiles came up behind the two of you, wrapping an arm around either of your shoulders. You glanced back, meeting his eyes, and what couldn’t have been more than a second felt like an eternity.

Things were looking up. For all of you.

Part 19?

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24stiles920 · 6 years

Text

Alpha Pact

Teen Wolf Rewrite

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Warnings: Ages 16+, swearing, panic attack,

Words: 5293

A/N: Let me just say that I don’t condone kissing to end panic attacks, okay? I hate that they did that, but I wrote it anyway. Blah, blah. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Season 3A Masterlist

I watched as Stiles continued to smack Derek, trying to wake him up. He’d been at it for the last few minutes, smacking him so much that I’m sure his palm was going numb.

“DEREK?” Stiles yelled before smacking him again. “Derek, come on!”

He slapped him again, before pulling back his hand and forming a fist. He went to punch Derek in the face, when Derek woke up, grabbing Stiles’ fist to stop him.

Derek looked around the elevator frantically, probably looking for Ms. Blake.

“Where is she?” Derek grunted, not letting go of Stiles’ fist.

“Ms. Blake?” Stiles asked. “Gone with Scott’s mom.”

“She took her?” Derek asked, confused.

“Yeah, and if that’s not enough of a kick to the balls, Scott left with Deucalion, okay?” Stiles told Derek in an emotional and rushed voice. “So we gotta get you out of here. The police are coming right now, and we gotta get you the fuck out of here.”

Stiles started pulled Derek to his feet, when Derek spoke up, his face bewildered, “What about Cora?”

Once Derek was up and okay, he left, giving us both a nod.

Stiles and I congregated to the first floor, waiting for the police to arrive. We sat side by side in the waiting room, my feet in his lap, with him rubbing the skin of my leg with his thumb.

When the police arrived, the FBI came with them, scoping out the hospital. Stiles let out a large sigh, making me follow his sightline to see Agent Rafael McCall. Otherwise known as Scott’s asshole dad that abandoned him and Melissa.

“Oh, just perfect.” Stiles muttered to me. I nodded in agreement as Agent McCall walked over to us.

Agent McCall stood over us, making us look up at his towering figure.

“A Stilinski at the center of this whole mess.” Agent McCall spoke, his voice full of arrogance. “And a Stark. What a shocker. Think you two can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?”

“If you ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.” Stiles retorted.

Agent McCall grinned, looking away before turning back to us. “Where’s your dad, and why’s no one been able to contact him?”

“I don’t know.” Stiles said honestly. “I haven’t seen him in hours.”

“Is he drinking again?” Agent McCall asked without prompting.

Stiles sighed, “What do you mean, again? He never had to stop.”

“But he did have to slow down.” Agent McCall commented. “Is he drinking like he used to?”

“All right, how about this?” Stiles spat, his tone lowering as he got increasingly angry. “Next time I see him, I’ll give him a field sobriety test, okay? We’ll do the alphabet, start with ‘F’ and end with ‘U.’”

Agent McCall grinned, amused. “How about one of you just tell me what the hell happened here?”

“We don’t know what happened here.” I exhaled heavily. “We were stuck in the elevators the whole time.”

“You’re not the one who put the name on the doors, are you?” Agent McCall asked.

“What name?” Stiles asked, looking up at Agent McCall with a bewildered face.

Agent McCall gestured down the hall. Stiles and I got up, walking down the hallway to the elevators. The doors were closed and the name ‘Argent’ was painted on them in huge, red letters.

“The word is guardian, Allison.” Mr. Argent said as opened the door to their apartment. Stiles and I filled Allison and Mr. Argent in about their name being on the elevator doors. “More than anyone, you know that’s a role I haven’t exactly lived up to lately.”

“But she took Scott’s mother and Stiles’ father.” Allison objected as we followed Mr. Argent down the hall and into his office. “That’s not a coincidence.”

“Yeah, I’d also consider the fact that someone put your name up in large block letters on the elevator doors.” Stiles spoke up, standing in front of Mr. Argent’s desk. “That kind of felt like a warning to me.”

“I think it might be Morrell.” Allison said, putting her bow down on the desk. “She knows a lot more than she lets on, and she might even be trying to help us.”

“Well, she needs to get on that a lot faster, okay?” Stiles remarked. “Seeing as how the lunar eclipse is less than two fucking nights away.”

“Stiles, don’t give up hope.” Mr. Argent said as Stiles set down in a chair, pulling me onto his lap.

“They could already be dead.” Stiles muttered, a hand on his forehead.

“I don’t think so.” Mr. Argent disagreed. “There’s something about Jennifer’s tactics. It’s like she’s still positioning, still moving pieces into place.”

“And you’re one of them.” I spoke up, looking at him and Allison with serious eyes.

“Then let’s not wait around to see the next move.” Mr. Argent suggested. He pulled out the marked map of Beacon Hills. “Everything she’s done has been on a telluric current, so Melissa and the sheriff have to be somewhere on one of those currents, right?”

I nodded, getting off Stiles’ lap to walk over to the desk and look at the map. Stiles didn’t move, and Mr. Argent noticed.

“Stiles, if we’re going to find them, we need your help.” Mr. Argent reminded him.

“You seriously want to go after her?” Stiles asked Mr. Argent. “I mean, what if she just takes you like the others, huh? No offense, but what’s the difference between you and them?”

Mr. Argent pulled out a silver gun, putting ammo into the handle.

“I’m carrying a .45.” Mr. Argent said bluntly, holding up his gun. “Maybe she can heal from a shot to the leg and a few slashes to the face, but personally, I’d like to see how she holds up with half her skull blown off.”

Mr. Argent set his gun down and leaned against his desk. “We’ve got one priority right now, and that is to find Melissa and your dad. We’ve got a map and every clue we need to figure this out. The only thing we don’t have is time, which is why I need the three of you.”

Stiles sighed and looked up. “Where do we start?”

Mr. Argent took out his hand-held blue light and waved it over the map as Stiles stepped forward in between Allison and I.

“The place where the sacrifices have been committed have usually been different from where the bodies have been found.” Mr. Argent explained to the three of us. “I think the placement has to do with the strength of the current, so there’s the school,” He waved the light over the map where the school was located. “The animal clinic, the bank—”

“Wait a sec, she wouldn’t use the same place twice, would she?” Stiles interrupted Mr. Argent, thinking out loud and tapping his chin.

“Only if she didn’t succeed the first time.” Mr. Argent answered, his eyes wide with realization. He tapped the light against the map where the bank was located.

“Scott’s boss...” Allison trailed off.

“Deaton.” Mr. Argent nodded. “It was her only failure. That could mean something.”

“That’s just one place so far.” Stiles said, leaning against the desk. “We’re gonna need a lot more help.”

“What about Lydia?” I asked, thinking about the special ability that we seemed to have in common.

“Lydia?” Mr. Argent furrowed his eyebrows. “What can she do?”

“Uh, her and Y/N have sort of got a talent. They ended up finding a couple of the bodies, um, without actually looking for them.” Stiles explained.

Mr. Argent looked at me, asking, “I thought you were a scryer.”

“Part scryer.” I corrected him. “I guess I’m a banshee, too.”

Mr. Argent looked at me for a moment before shrugging and turning towards the cabinet that was against the left wall. He started pulling guns out of it, and handing them to Allison, one by one.

Allison got out her finger knives and Mr. Argent then placed a large machine gun on the desk, making Stiles mutter a, “Whoa.”

“I thought you guys were retired.” I commented, watching as Allison opened up her compact bow.

“Retired, yes. Defenseless, no.” Mr. Argent said, picking up another large gun. He looked up at Allison, Stiles, and I and held up his phone. “Make sure your phone’s on. If either of you hear from Scott, you let us know immediately.”

Stiles looked at his phone. “Yeah, I’m thinking that’s gonna be kind of unlikely.”

“All three of you, try to remember he’s just doing what he thinks is right.” Mr. Argent said, defending Scott.

Allison didn’t look at her dad, instead looking past him at the doorway. We all turned around to see the tall figure of Isaac looming.

“I can’t shoot a gun or use a crossbow, but…” He trailed off, whipping out his claws. “Well, I’m—I’m getting pretty good with these.”

Stiles and I stopped by the house before going to school so that we could change clothes. I felt seriously disgusting, so I took a shower, too. After getting dress in a high waisted plaid skirt, and a blue crop top, I stood in the bathroom, looking at the bruise around my neck that Ms. Blake put there with the garrote.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “I’ve covered up plenty of hickies before. A bruise like this is no problem.”

“You shouldn’t cover it up.” I heard Stiles say from behind me. I looked into the mirror, locking eyes with my soulmate.

“Why?” I breathed.

“Baby, Ms. Blake tried to strangle you, and you survived.” Stiles said, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “You don’t need to hide that.”

I smiled, realizing that he was right. I had nothing to be ashamed of.

“No.” I said, turning around and wrapping my arms around his middle. I laid my head against his chest, focusing on his rapid heartbeat. “No, I don’t.”

“Exactly.” Stiles smiled at me, brushing some wet hair out of my face.

“I love you, Mieczyslaw Stilinski.” I whispered against his chest, pressing my lips to his collarbone.

“I love you, too, Y/N Stark.” Stiles proclaimed, squeezing me tighter against him. “Now do your hair, because we still have to go talk to Lydia.”

“Okay.” I nodded, pulling away from him and turning around, picking up my hairbrush.

After putting my hair into a milkmaid braid, we drove to Lydia’s house, where she was recovering from a severe concussion.

“I don’t believe it.” Lydia shook her head in denial after we told her about Scott going with Deucalion. “Scott can’t really be with them. He can’t be.”

“You didn’t see the look on his face, though.” Stiles said. “It was…”

“Then what can we do?” Lydia said sternly. “I mean, I get that I’m some kind of, like, human Geiger counter for death, and Y/N is that and more, but…I don’t know how to turn it on and off yet. And I’m sure Y/N doesn’t either.”

I nodded my head in agreement. “All I know is that she tried to kill us because of…”

“Because of what?” Stiles asked, looking at me. I shook my head. “Hey, Y/N, what?”

“When she called us banshees, she was surprised by it.” I told him, noticing Lydia murmur an agreement. “What if that’s now why she tried to kill us?”

“Then why did she?” Stiles asked.

“That’s what we need to find out.” Lydia said firmly.

We arrived at school during second period, finding that most of the classes were watching movies and playing games to try to get their minds off all the recent murders of most of the teachers here.

We were walking down the stairs to the first floor when Lydia sighed in frustration.

“Aiden’s not texting me back.” She muttered, chucking her phone into her purse. She had been texting Aiden since we got to school, wondering about a plan, but it looks like she was getting no where with him.

“Okay, well, maybe we could just…” I trailed off, trying to think of a plan. “We could go over there and—”

I was cut off by Stiles’ phone chirping. Stiles pulled his phone out of his pocket and stared at it, his eyes widening in horror.

“What?” Lydia asked.

Stiles bit his lip, tears filling his eyes.

“Oh, God.” I breathed, stepping closer to him. “What is it now?”

Stiles pursed his lips, “It’s from Isaac. Jennifer, she t—she has Allison’s father. She took him. She’s got all three now.”

I looked down to see Stiles’ hand shaking as he put his phone back into his pocket.

“There’s still time.” Lydia assured him.

Stiles started breathing heavily, holding his finger up as he tried to catch his breath. His breathing was shaky and not stable at all, clueing me into the fact that he was having a panic attack.

“Stiles, you okay?” I asked, taking his hand in mine.

He pulled away, turning around.

“What is it?” Lydia asked frantically. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s having a panic attack.” I told her. Pushing my way to Stiles, I grabbed his arms. “Stiles, listen to me, okay? Count backwards from ten.”

Stiles visibly moved his mouth through all the numbers, but when he got to one, he shook his head, gasping for breath.

“Okay, okay.” I mumbled under my breath, looking around for a place to take him. The crowded hallway was probably not helping him any. I spotted the door to the locker room and it was like a light bulb went off in my head.

I grabbed Stiles’ hand and pulled him to the locker room, not caring if Lydia came with us or not. Stiles threw his bad on the ground and collapsed next to a set of lockers, wheezing with the effort his anxiety was putting on his lungs.

“Okay.” I said, kneeling down in front of him. “Come on, come on.”

Stiles kept on gasping, grabbing my hands as he looked at me with terrified eyes.

“I know, baby.” I said, putting my hands on his cheeks, brushing my thumbs against the ruddy flesh. “I know.”

“Y/N.” He wheezed.

“Just try and think about something else, anything else.” I told him quickly.

“Like what?” He let out between gasps.

“Uh, happy things.” Lydia suggested. “Good things. Uh, friends, family.”

Stiles eyes narrowed and I looked to her, raising my voice as I said, “Not helping, Lydia!”

“Try and slow your breathing, Stiles.” I told him, bringing his focus back to me. “Remember when we were kids? And I broke my wrist using your skateboard? Remember how you coached me threw my breathing then?”

I felt my heart break at the struggle in Stiles’ eyes as he tried to slow his breathing. It wasn’t working, though, I could tell. I tried to think of other tactics, but none of what we used to do when his mom died would work right now.

“I can’t, Y/N.” Stiles started hyperventilating, probably scared out of his mind. “I can’t.”

“Okay,” I said, moving closer to him and cupping his cheeks again. “Shh, shh. Stiles, look at me.” I looked into his honey brown eyes, trying to convey all the love I had for him. “Shh, look at me. Shh, Stiles.”

His eyes begged me to do something, so I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his in a slow peck. His eyes stared at me in shock, until he eventually closed them, moving his lips against mine.

When his chest stopped heaving up and down, I took that as a sign that he wasn’t panicking anymore. I slowly pulled away, watching his reaction carefully.

“Ooh…” He breathed out shakily, looking at me with puppy dog eyes. “H-How’d you do that?”

“I-I, I read once that—holding your breath could stop a panic attack.” I answered him softly. “And when we kiss, you hold your breath. Plus, I knew the shock of it would—”

Stiles cut me off, capturing my lips with his. He groaned as I wrapped my arms around his neck and played with the hair on the back of his head. Our lips moved passionately together.

A throat being cleared snapped me out of the little bubble we had created. As I pulled away, Lydia smirked at me, sending me a wink. I rolled my eyes at her.

“That was really smart, babe.” Stiles said, giving me a small grin.

“If she was really smart, she would tell you to sign up for a few sessions with the guidance counselor.” Lydia spoke up teasingly.

Stiles let out a few shaky snickers before freezing.

“What?” I asked.

“Morrell.” Stiles stated, looking at me with serious eyes.

We quickly gathered our stuff and walked out of the locker room, heading to the guidance counselor’s office on the other side of the floor. When we crashed into Ms. Morrell’s office, there was a heavy-set girl sitting in the chair, waiting for Ms. Morrell. The girl looked familiar, but I couldn’t tell from where I knew her.

“Are you here for Ms. Morrell?” Stiles asked, looking at the girl.

“No, I thought this was gym class.” The girl stated sarcastically.

“Sweetheart,” Lydia snarled, twirling to face her. “We’re not in the mood for funny.”

I sighed, “Look, do you know where she is?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t be waiting here for twenty minutes.” The girl said loudly. “So how about you three back out the door and wait your turn?”

“We’re not here for a session.” I told her.

“Well, I am.” The girl sassed. “And I’ve got some serious issues to work on.”

“Hey, wait, wait.” Stiles spoke up. “You’re Danielle. You’re Heather’s best friend.”

That’s where I knew her from. Heather’s party, when she watched her kiss Stiles.

“I was Heather’s best friend.” Danielle corrected him. “We’ve been working on that issue three times a week.”

“Hold on,” Lydia said, turning to Danielle. “Did you say Ms. Morrell’s twenty minutes late?”

“And I don’t know why either,” Danielle added. “She’s always on time.”

Lydia turned to Stiles and I, before speaking in a low tone, “I was seeing her at the beginning of the semester. She was never late.”

“Then she’s not late.” Stiles stated. “She’s missing.”

“What if we’re not the only ones who think she knows something?” I asked them.

Stiles looked at the file cabinet behind the desk and started towards it, saying, “Then I want to know what she knows.”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to find her.” Stiles answered me, sifting through files.

“Those files are private.” Danielle barked.

“Yeah, she’s kind of right.” Lydia nodded.

Stiles grabbed a folder and pulled it out, squinting at the name. “There’s one with both of your names on it.”

Lydia and I exchanged glanced, thoroughly confused. Why would we have a joint folder?

“Let me see that.” I snapped, taking the folder from Stiles.

Opening the folder, there were dozens of papers in there. The common theme I saw as I drifted through each paper was the drawing of the tree that almost never left my mind.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s your drawing.” Stiles pointed out.

“I know.” I said, giving him a weird look. “It’s a tree.”

“Yeah, good too.” Danielle added.

“Thank you.” I smiled at her.

“No, Y/N, but that’s the same one.” Lydia said. “The same one I draw sometimes.”

“Same as what?” I asked, frustrated.

“The same one I always see you drawing in class and at home.” Stiles stood up from his kneeling position.

“It’s a tree.” I told him. “I like drawing trees.”

“No, but it’s the exact same one. Don’t you see? Give me your bag.” Stiles huffed, clearly getting frustrated with me. I handed him my leather satchel, filled with my notebooks and writing utensils.

He took the notebook from my bag and opened it, turning the pages to reveal a tree on each page, some different sizes.

“There, see?” We compared the tree in my notebook to the one in the folder. It was the exact same one.

“Okay, you can have my session.” Danielle declared. “You got bigger issues.”

I gasped as Stiles kept on flipping through the pages, showing tree after tree. “What the hell is this?”

Stiles then turned the notebook upside down, making the branches of the tree turn into the roots.

He gasped, “I know where they are.”

Stiles burst out of the guidance office and took my hand, pulling me along with him.

“It’s the nemeton.” Stiles told me and Lydia, who was following us curiously. “That’s where she’s keeping them. It has to be…”

“Stilinski! Stark!” Agent McCall called out to us from down the hall.

“Agh, fuck.” Stiles muttered.

As Agent McCall started walking towards us, Stiles turned to Lydia, “All right, look, go to Derek, okay? He and Peter, they’ve been there before, so they’ll know where it is. Tell them it’s the root cellar, all right? They’ll know.”

Lydia nodded and took off. Stiles and I turned around just in time to see Agent McCall towering over us. Jesus, this guy was tall.

“Did you know your dad’s car is in the school parking lot and has been since last night?” Agent McCall asked.

“No.” Stiles shook his head. “What does that mean?”

“It means he’s officially missing.” Agent McCall replied.

He ushered us into an empty classroom and told us to take a seat at the desks in front of the teacher’s desk.

“Stiles, why am I getting the feeling you know something that could help us find your dad?” Agent McCall stated.

“If I did, why would I not tell you?” Stiles asked.

“If it meant helping your dad, why wouldn’t you?” Agent McCall said, looking at Stiles intently.

Stiles perked up and I had a feeling he was about to burst out some rant that neither Agent McCall or I could understand.

“So, you’re asking me to tell you what I wouldn’t not tell you?” Stiles looked at Scott’s dad amused.

“First, I have no idea what you just said.” Agent McCall started. God, now I know where Scott got his brains from. “Second, how about you just help me help you?”

“Well, I don’t know how to help you help me tell you something that would help you if I don’t know it.” Stiles said, raising his eyebrows.

Agent McCall sighed, “Are you doing this on purpose?”

“I don’t know anything, okay?” Stiles told the giant man. “And neither does Y/N. Can we just go?”

“Where are your other friends?” Agent McCall questioned him.

“You mean Scott?”

“I mean Scott.” Agent McCall nodded before going on, “I mean Isaac Lahey, Allison Argent, these twins, Ethan and Aiden. I’ve been told your whole little clique didn’t show up at school today.”

Stiles snorted, shaking his head. “I don’t have a clique.”

“Stiles, come on.” Agent McCall sighed. “There’s a pretty disturbing amount of violent activity in this county in the last few months, several murders tied to this school. I don’t know what’s going on here, but it’s serious. And…hey.” He spoke up, getting our attention. “Your dad is missing.”

Stiles looked down, not saying anything.

Agent McCall tensed, standing up and putting his hands in his pockets. “Fine. But I don’t want you guys going home alone. Do you have someone you can stay with tonight?”

“They’re with me.” Dr. Deaton’s clear voice echoed through the empty classroom. I looked at him and sighed with relief.

Allison, Isaac, Stiles, Lydia, Dr. Deaton, and I all gathered at the animal clinic, discussing where the nemeton was. Lydia came back from Derek’s loft and reported that Derek and Peter had their memories of its location taken away by Talia Hale.

“It has to be on a telluric current,” Stiles said. “Or maybe even at the axis of two or where they all intersect.”

“We just know it’s where Derek took Paige to die.” I added, taking Stiles’ hand and squeezing it, hoping to cure his frustration.

“My dad and Gerard were there once.” Allison informed us. “But Gerard said it was years ago, and he couldn’t remember where it was. And my dad obviously isn’t here to tell us now.”

“Yeah, mine either.” Stiles mumbled.

“Then how do we find this place?” Isaac asked.

“There might be a way.” Dr. Deaton interjected. He turned around to face us. “But it’s dangerous and we’re gonna need Scott.”

Dr. Deaton, Stiles, and I drove out to the preserve to meet Scott, who had been with the alpha pact all day. We told him about the nemeton and the same time as he told us.

“How’d you guys find out?” Scott asked, looking surprised.

“Y/N.” Stiles told him, gesturing to me. “You?”

“Morrell.” Scott said. “None of the other alphas know where it is, either.”

“So if this works, are you gonna tell them?” I spoke up.

“I can’t stop Jennifer without them.” Scott declared, nodding his head.

“How about we concentrate on finding your parents first?” Dr. Deaton said, noticing the tension between Scott and Stiles and I.

“What’s the plan?”

“Essentially, you, Allison, and Stiles need to be surrogate sacrifices for your parents.” Dr. Deaton answered Scott’s question.

“We die for them?” Scott asked, shocked.

“But he can bring us back.” Stiles claimed. He looked to Dr. Deaton, doubting himself. “You can—you can bring us back, right?”

“You remember the part where I said it was dangerous?” Dr. Deaton reminded Stiles. He nodded. “If it goes right, the three of you will be dead for a few seconds, but there’s something else you need to think about. This is a dangerous thing for more reasons than one. You’ll be giving power back to the nemeton, a place that hasn’t had power for a long time. This kind of power is like a magnet. It attracts the supernatural, the kind of things that a family like the Argents can fill the pages of a bestiary with. It will draw them here, like a beacon.”

“Doesn’t sound any worse than anything we’ve already seen.” Stiles shrugged.

“You’d be surprised at what you have yet to see.” Dr. Deaton breathed.

“Is that it?” Scott wondered.

“No.” Dr. Deaton shook his head. “It’ll also have an effect on the three of you. You won’t be able to see it, but you’ll feel it every day for the rest of your lives. It’ll be a kind of a darkness around your heart, and permanent, like a scar.”

“Like a tattoo.” Scott whispered.

Lydia, Isaac, and I had the job of putting the bags of ice in the three large tubs. I was having déjà vu something serious, but I put it to the back of my mind. Instead my focus was on how Stiles was going to be dead for a couple of minutes. I didn’t know how I felt about this whole situation, but I knew I wasn’t going to stop him. This was for his dad. He didn’t want to lose him and I understood that. I understood more than anyone.

After the tubs were filled with herbs and ice, we all gathered together. I stood by Stiles, wrapping my arm around his waist and resting my head on his bicep.

“All right.” Dr. Deaton said, looking at Stiles. “What did you bring?”

“Um, I got my dad’s badge.” Stiles said, taking Noah’s crushed badge out of his sweatshirt pocket. “Jennifer kind of crushed it in her hand, so I tried hammering it out a bit. Still doesn’t look great.”

“Well, it doesn’t need to look good if it has meaning.” Dr. Deaton gave Stiles a small smile.

“Is that an actual silver bullet?” Isaac asked Allison, looking at the bullet in her hand.

She nodded. “My dad made it. It’s kind of a ceremonial thing. When one of us finished learning all the skills to be a hunter, we forge a silver bullet as a testament to the code.”

Dr. Deaton nodded before turning his head to Scott. “Scott?”

Scott held up his mom’s watch. “My dad got my mom this watch when she first got hired at the hospital. She used to say it was the only thing in their marriage that ever worked.”

“Okay.” Dr. Deaton said, catching everyone’s attention. “The three of you will get in. Lydia, Isaac, and Y/N will hold each of you down until you’re essentially…well, dead. But it’s not just someone to hole you under. It needs to be someone who can pull you back, someone that has a strong connection to you, a kind of emotional tether.”

I squeezed Stiles’ hand, assuming that I was going with him. Lydia and Allison smiled at each other and Lydia went to go stand by her.

“Lydia…” Dr. Deaton said, catching her attention. “You go with Scott.”

Allison, Isaac, Scott, and Lydia exchanged looks.

“Are you sure?” Allison asked Dr. Deaton. “I mean, Scott and I both have to go under.”

Allison and Isaac looked at each other for a long time, making Scott’s expression fall.

Scott cleared his throat and nodded at Allison, saying, “It’s okay.”

Scott walked away, and Stiles and I followed him.

“You okay, Scotty?” I asked, putting my hand on his arm.

“Yeah.” Scott nodded, looking down at the floor.

“Okay, well, I just wanted to say that I love you.” I wrapped my arms around his middle. Scott laughed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Scott chuckled. “You’re my sister.”

“And you’re my brother.” I gave him a smile as I pulled away and turned to Stiles.

I pointed at the love of my life. “You, sir, I love you so, so, so much. So you better come back.”

Stiles grinned and grabbed my hand, pulling my body towards him. He placed some sweet kisses from my jaw trailing to my mouth, before placing a big, sloppy kiss on my lips.

“I love you, too, baby.” He cooed. “And with you as my emotional tether, how could I not come back?”

“We’re ready!” Dr. Deaton called for us to come out to the main exam room.

The boys took off their jackets and handed them to me to put with my purse. Together, the three of us walked out to where the tubs of water were waiting.

Allison was the first to move, putting her foot in the icy water and gasping. Stiles went next, but before he could move, he looked back at me for reassurance. I nodded, mouthing the words ‘I love you’ to him. That seemed to give him more confidence, stepping into the tub. Scott followed after him, clutching his mom’s watch.

Stiles shook with how cold the water was and when I came up behind him to put my shaky hands on his shoulders, he was shivering and gasping.

“By the way,” Stiles said to Scott. “If I don’t make it back and you do, you should probably know something. Your dad’s in town.”

With a nod from Deaton, Isaac, Lydia, and I pushed down on Allison, Scott, and Stiles, respectively, pushing their heads under the icy water.

A tear dripped from my face into the water below as I saw Stiles’ face. He was dead, and I didn’t know if he was coming back.

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lordofassgard · 7 years

Text

Hurt People {Part 2}

Requested: | yes | no |

Pairing: Derek Hale x f!Reader

Summary: Derek and the reader are both hurt by their past and rely on each other to heal. Until one day he just leaves. What happens three years later when he comes back in the middle of war?

Word Count: 7k my finger slipped

Warnings: cursing, alcohol, panic attack, mentions of depression and anxiety

A/N: I have a few shout outs to do on this one...so first shout out to my friend @snowflakes-and-sparks for helping me with the original idea, shout out to @stilinski-lover-24 for helping me as I wrote part 2 and shout out to who inspired me to write Hurt People in the first place 🌼

Also, a huge thank you to everyone who requested a part 2 and I'm sorry that it took me a while 💕

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Part 1 || Part 2 find part 1 in my masterlist

You were frozen, Derek was standing right there in front of you like he never left like he never abandoned you. You let out a shaky breath, realizing that you had stopped breathing for a few seconds. But you had to pull yourself together, you were still in danger, Deucalion's body on the floor proving that. You managed to knock out a few more hunters before the rest of them retreated, leaving you alone.

Scott lowered down to Deucalion's level, slightly jumping when the older alpha reached for his hand. You didn't hear what he said, you were too busy staring wide-eyed at Derek who stared back at you, his expression blank.

You wanted to say something, yell at him for leaving you broken beyond repair, yell for all the hearts you broke because of him, for all the times you felt your own heart breaking over and over again, but nothing came out.

Malia nudging you brought you back to reality, Derek was standing in front of you. Your first instinct was to take a step back and look around for a distraction.

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” From the corner of your eye, you saw Derek look down before walking towards Scott.

What was he expecting, a hug?

You knew you had made things awkward, Lydia clearing her throat sending you a glare that quickly softened as soon as she understood what was going through your head.

“As much as I enjoy the family reunion, what are you doing here?” Peter asked, trying to lighten up the mood, a sarcastic tone evident in his voice.

“I found a pack slaughtered in Brazil.” Derek started “There were two words written in blood on a wall. Beacon Hills.”

“You came back to Beacon Hills?” Scott asked in disbelief.

“I came back for you.” You looked up at him, finding his green eyes already on you.

You, Derek, Scott, and Malia walked into the school, quickly finding Peter petrified, a scared look on his face.

“He's not dead. He...he can't be.” Malia stuttered and you quickly grabbed her hand trying to provide her some comfort.

“There's a heartbeat but it's faint” Derek focused on his uncle’s chest.

You sighed in relief, glad that Peter wasn't dead. The footsteps approaching you turned all of your attentions towards the sound.

“We’re not alone.” Well no shit Sherlock, thanks for stating the obvious.

“Scott,” Malia called urgently, noticing that he was still staring at Peter.

The footsteps were getting louder and Scott wasn't moving.

“I think I know how to catch it.” He mumbled.

He grabbed his phone and quickly dialed Stiles’ number. He asked for mountain ash, confusing all of you but didn’t explain.

“I’m glad that you have a plan, but we have to go or we’re gonna get caught.” You shifted uncomfortably on your heels, not really liking the idea of being caught whether it was by hunters or by the Anuk-Ite itself, you didn't know which was worse.

The four of you started running, not wanting to stick around and fight whoever it was. You leaned against the wall, your breathing heavier than usual as you tried to be as quiet as possible.

From the multiple sets of footsteps you assumed that it was hunters, they were looking for you.

"We can't just hide, Peter’s not gonna last like that" Malia whispered-yelled.

"Neither will we if that thing finds us too" Derek replied in the same tone.

"We've gotta wait for Stiles" Scott tried to calm her down.

"I'm not waiting here" Malia took off running and you sighed before the three of you ran after her.

“Malia wait.”

She stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the hallway and it didn’t take you long to understand why. Monroe was standing by the doors, two hunters with big guns in their hands a few steps back. She didn’t say a word, raising her gun and shooting. You flinched, hoping to be hit but you heard Scott grunt in pain.

“Scott.” You didn’t take your eyes off of Monroe, waiting to see what she was going to do.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Malia rushing over to him, catching him before he hit the ground. Derek stood next to you ready to fight if he had to.

“I’m okay, don’t let her go.”

Scott fell with a loud thud making you look away from the threats in front of you. When you looked back you were surprised to see that they were gone. Malia got her claws and fangs out and ran after them.

Derek lowered down to Scott’s level inspecting the wound.

“You’re not okay, it’s yellow wolfsbane. It’s gonna kill you?”

“What?” You felt a knot in your stomach and your chest heavy.

Scott couldn’t die, not tonight

“We have to get him out of here.” You panicked, finally talking to Derek after all this time.

“Help me get him up.”

You basically had to drag him to an empty classroom and you sat him down in one of the stools as Derek looked for something in the cabinets.

“What the hell are you doing?” You hissed at his back.

“Just go help Malia,” Scott mumbled, making you shift your attention back to the Alpha.

“I’m not worried about her, we gotta get rid of this.” Derek finally turned around a small torch in his hands “There’s only one way to get rid of wolfsbane. Burn it out.” He lit up the torch and you slightly winced at how much it’d hurt.

“Okay.” Scott was slowly processing the information.

“You’re not gonna be able to do much until you heal.” Derek walked over to the both of you.

“If I’m right we just need Stiles to get here.”

“Yeah, but it’d be cool if you were still alive when he gets here.” You frowned as you saw how much the wolfsbane was affecting him.

His skin was pale, he was sweating but he was freezing and his body wasn’t healing.

“Okay,” Scott mumbled giving you a small smile.

“You’re gonna be okay Scott.” You reassured brushing some of his hair away that was stuck to his forehead.

Derek burned his wound and Scott let out an agonizing scream. You widened your eyes momentarily looking at Derek, maybe he knew what to do. He looked at you just as panicked making you even more nervous. If he kept yelling he was going to give away your location and you were all going to get caught.

Without thinking twice, you grabbed one of his hands in between yours and focused on taking his pain, that was just as bad as it seemed. You clenched your jaw, preventing yourself from making any noise watching the veins in your arms turn black.

When Derek put down the small torch, you let go of Scott’s hand but you weren’t quick enough to catch him as he passed out. You sat him up, his back against one of the tables as you checked for his pulse, sighing in relief when you heard a faint heartbeat.

“You’re...you’re a werewolf?” Derek asked in disbelief.

You flashed your yellow eyes at him, a small smirk playing on your lips that he almost didn’t notice. Almost.

“A lot changed while you were gone, Derek.” Your eyes returned to their original color and you focused on Scott.

He blinked a few times, his mouth slightly opened as he tried to process the newly acquired information.

“You’ll catch flies.” You said without glancing at him.

“It’s just…” He cut himself off “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” You focused but all you heard was your heartbeats.

“Stay here.” He turned around walking towards the closed door.

“Where are you going?” You whispered-yelled.

If there was actually someone out there, you didn’t want to get caught because you were yelling at your ex-boyfriend.

“I’m gonna take a look.”

“What? You can’t go out there.” You kept the same tone “If there’s someone out there you can’t go alone.”

“Someone needs to stay with Scott.” He turned around facing you “I’ll be fine.” He sent a small smile your way.

Shit. You were showing that you cared, that you still cared.

“I wasn’t worried about you if that’s what you think.” Your tone was cold and distant.

“Sure.” That was the last thing he said before leaving you alone with an unconscious Scott.

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair, glancing at Scott who was starting to wake up.

“Hey, there sleepy head.” You chuckled.

“Where’s Derek?” He asked looking around.

“He heard something so he went to check it out.” You paused “Thanks for telling me that he’d be back by the way.”

“To be honest…” He looked up at you “I didn’t think you’d stay if I told you.”

His words were like daggers in your chest. After Derek left you pushed all of them away and every time someone mentioned him you’d just walk away. Just the thought of him was too painful but you masked it as anger. It made sense that he thought that way, you couldn’t blame him but it still hurt.

“I...I’m your beta Scott, I’ll always stay.” You gave him a sad smile, the memories of the previous years without Derek weren’t leaving you alone, and they had the worst timing.

You cleared your throat and blinked a couple of tears away.

“He should’ve been back by now.” You glanced at the door nervously “Maybe something happened.”

What if he was hurt? Or worse, dead?

“We have to stick to the plan.”

“I...I don’t even know what’s the plan.”

“Do you trust me?” He grabbed your hand and unclenched it, your palm bloody from your claws.

You didn’t even notice it. You were on the edge and fear was slowly making its way into your body.

“I do.”

“C’mon.” You helped him up and before you left the classroom he put a hand on your shoulder “Go find him.”

“What if...what if something happened?”

“Help him.” He squeezed your shoulder before opening the door “Be careful.”

We went to the library and you walked down the dark and empty hallways looking for Derek and Malia. Your heartbeat was so loud that you could barely hear anything else.

“Derek?” You whispered “Malia?”

And then it hit you. This unwelcome panic and fear that made you stop dead in your tracks. You found someone, but it wasn’t who you wanted. Your heart was racing and you wanted to run but you were paralyzed, you forced your body to move but it wasn’t responding.

“(Y/N)” You heard his voice but you knew it wasn’t him.

You clenched your fists to stop your hands from shaking but it was useless. Your breathing increased like you just ran a marathon, you wanted, needed to run but you couldn’t, you were stuck.

“(Y/N)” Footsteps approached you but you didn’t dare to turn around.

“You’re not him.” You mumbled, your eyes shut.

“Don’t you wanna look at me? See how much I’ve changed...how happy I’ve been without you”

“No.”

“Don’t you miss seeing me? Touch me” You felt it touch your back and you took a step forward quickly turning around, making sure your eyes stayed closed.

“No.”

“Are you willing to give me another chance (Y/N)?” You swung your arms forward hoping you’d hit the damn thing and maybe you’d get it to shut up.

“You’re not real.” You were growing frustrated.

“Don’t I sound real? Why don’t you look at me? Please…(Y/N) look at me.” It begged.

It sounded so real that you almost wanted to open your eyes.

“Please, look at me.”

His voice cracked as he begged and you couldn’t resist, you snapped your eyes open only to be met with scary purple irises. You felt your body freeze, unable to move and then everything went black.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

You felt warm again, the tips of your fingers moved and that was when you realized what was happening. You took a deep breath, giving you lungs some needed oxygen before you saw the two hunters in front of you. One gun was pointed at your head, and the other at your heart.

You were quick to shift and fight. They were skilled, more than you thought but you still managed to knock one out. The other took advantage of the second you took to catch your breath to push you against a row of lockers, your head hitting the cold metal, the pain spreading through the back of your skull as a few black spots appeared in your vision. You tried to push yourself off the floor, but your body wasn’t responding, you felt yourself change back to human and heard the hunter pick up his gun.

“Please…” You whimpered.

You heard the gun click, its safety was now off and then you felt the cold metal of the barrel against your forehead.

“Please…” You could barely speak, almost slipping into unconsciousness as you fought to stay awake.

A distant growl sparked your attention, but your heavy eyes didn’t make any effort to move. You heard shouting, a loud thud and you no longer felt the gun against your head which was a relief.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) stay with me.” You recognized Derek’s voice and pushed yourself further into the lockers, hoping they’d swallow you, a terrified expression across your features.

Somehow you managed to get back on your feet and tried to run away, the Anuk-Ite was messing with your head once again.

“(Y/N), calm down you’re safe.”

“You...you’re not real.” You stumbled as your legs gave up, hoping the wall would support you but he caught you first.

“What are you talking about?” He asked confused “(Y/N), it’s me...Derek.”

You blinked a few times, your vision blurring a bit but you could still make out his face. You’d know it anywhere.

“You’re real.” You whispered.

“Yeah, I am.” His voice softened as he pulled you in for a hug.

The memories from earlier came back, what the Anuk-Ite had said. How happy he was without you. You didn’t want to be comforted by someone who left you. Your eyes filled with tears as you tried to pull away from him, your clenched fists hitting his chest as he hugged you tighter.

“Let me go.” Your voice came out muffled due to your face being hidden in his chest.

“I won’t. Not again.” You heard him sigh before he gently kissed your forehead.

You couldn’t hold it anymore, and you started crying. You were shaking the pain in the back of your head getting worse as you cried into Derek’s chest. He gently rocked you back and forth hoping that you’d stop crying.

“Your head is bleeding.”

Before you could say anything both of his large hands were wrapped around one of yours. You watched the veins in his arms turn black and you closed your eyes in relief as the pain slowly faded. He took your pain until there was nothing left. You still felt extremely dizzy and your vision was blurry but the pain was gone.

Without saying a word, he gently picked you up and carried you towards where everyone else was. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be held by him again if you didn’t think about the times where you fell asleep on the couch and he carried you to bed if you didn’t miss those moments, if you didn’t miss him.

The sound of voices brought you back to reality as you looked around trying to see who they belonged to.

“(Y/N)?”

“Jackson?”

“What happened to you?”

“Hunters...but I’m okay.” You smiled “Did it work?”

“What?”

“Scott’s plan.”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Is...everyone okay?”

“Yeah, we are.” You recognized Scott’s voice and heard his footsteps get closer to you.

“What happened to her?”

“I think she has a concussion.” Derek looked down at you “She’s slowly healing.”

“I’m fine.” You mumbled.

Your eyes were heavy, but you tried to keep the open. You wanted to be part of the moment, hear what happened, how Scott managed to defeat the Anuk-Ite and Jackson’s sarcastic remarks. But as much as you tried, you were too comfortable and tired in Derek’s arms so you slowly drifted to sleep.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

A few days later the pack decided to go out to celebrate. Jackson and Ethan would be on a plane to London the next morning so Lydia thought it’d be a good idea to go out. You, on the other hand, didn’t want to go. Derek would definitely be there and you hadn’t spoken since that day at the school, in fact, you were avoiding him like the plague.

Despite all this, Lydia still dragged you out of the house and gave you something to wear. You had to admit that the black dress hugged all your curves right but you weren’t in the mood to go out. She wanted to do your makeup too, but as soon as you flashed your yellow eyes she stopped bothering you.

You walked into the Sinema with Lydia and Stiles quickly spotting everyone else. Jackson and Ethan were on the dance floor, Malia and Scott were sitting on one of the couches and Thiam and Liam were arguing at the bar probably over something petty. Luckily Derek wasn’t there, at least not yet.

The loud music was annoying you, any other day it would have been something you enjoyed but today you’d rather stay home. Walking through the crowd over to the bar, you sat down in one of the stools next to Liam and Theo and ordered a few shots downing them one after the other.

“You know we can’t get drunk right?” Theo asked over the loud music.

You glanced over at him noticing that Liam was nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, I miss that. I wanted to get fucking wasted.” You drank your last shot and put the glass down.

“I didn’t think I’d see you here, to be honest.” He chuckled.

“Lydia practically dragged me here.” You shrugged as you order two more shots “I had no choice.”

The bartender placed the two shots on the counter and you slid one towards Theo.

“I thought you hated me.” He looked down at the drink with a frown.

“Yeah I do but, you saved Liam and you’re keeping me company.” You drank the shot scrunching your face and the burning sensation in your throat “I guess you’re not that bad.”

You ordered two more shots but the bartender shook his head, telling you to slow down or else he’d end up cleaning your vomit off the counter. You were ready to tell him off but Theo beat you to it.

“Just wait a bit (Y/N), it’s not like it’ll do any difference.”

“Fine.” You growled under your breath.

The two of you sat in silence, looking around seeing everyone slowly get drunk. It was sad and funny at the same time, the hangover not so much.

And then he walked in. With his stupid leather jacket, his hands in his pockets and his famous scowl. He looked around and you quickly turned, your back facing him as you wanted to turn invisible, actually debating if you could just call Corey so he could get you out of there. You kept chatting with Theo until you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, hoping that Derek wouldn't spot you in the crowd and you could hide in the bathroom for the rest of the night. Sure it'd be weird, but you were more than willing to do it as long as you could avoid Derek.

The bathroom was empty and you sighed, leaning against one of the sinks and focusing on what was written on the stalls. A bunch of phone numbers and apparently Daisy loved David, good for her you thought.

Your phone vibrated inside your clutch and you grabbed it, seeing a text from Lydia.

Where are you? Derek is looking for you

You quickly typed a reply, your anxiety making your hands shake and hard for you to write.

I'm in the bathroom. I don't want to see him. I want to go home

You opened your contacts and scrolled through them until you stopped on Corey’s name. But then it hit you that he was on on a date with Mason and you didn't want to interrupt. Maybe Theo could drive you home, he was your last resource. With a sudden rush of adrenaline, you swung the door open maybe a little too hard and walked through the crowd of sweaty and intoxicated bodies towards the bar where Theo was. You placed your hand on his shoulder making him turn around.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“I guess.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Can you get me out of here? I'll...buy you dinner or something I just need to get out of here”

“What got you so desperate?” He smirked.

“Please.” You begged.

He opened his mouth to say something but his gaze landed on something behind you and a few seconds later you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around slowly, seeing Derek right in front of you.

“Can we talk?”

You pretended that you weren't panicking on the inside, your heart beating fast but still broken. How could something dead still make you feel so alive?

“I'm listening.” You shrugged.

“Alone.” He cleared his throat uncomfortably, his hands shoved deeply in his pockets and avoiding eye contact. He was just as uncomfortable as you were.

You turned to Theo with a sigh before giving him a tight smile.

“I guess I won't need your help after all. Thanks anyway.” He looked between you and Derek with his eyebrows raised before nodding.

You followed him outside, looking down at your feet the entire time. The air outside the club was lighter and the music was nothing but a fade melody to your ears.

“What do you want?” You spat coldly as you leaned against the wall.

You were terrified because after three years there he was right in front of you and you probably were about to have the conversation that you imagined so many times. But now that you were face to face with him, your mind was blank. The adrenaline from earlier faded and your stomach dropped but you didn't dare to show it. You had to control yourself.

“I...I want to apologize.”

You let a sarcastic laugh and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Are you serious?” You tilted your head a little and squinted trying to see if there was any evidence of his statement being a joke but you found nothing “You think that after what you've done you can come back give me puppy dog eyes, apologize and everything's fine?”

“No, I…” You cut him off.

“You what Derek, uh? You're sorry? You regret leaving? You still love me? You hope I still love you? Is that it?” You spat angrily.

“Yes…I...I...” He stuttered.

“Do you think…” You paused hearing your voice raise, you weren't going to yell at him, he didn't deserve it “Do you think you can come back after three years, after you left me after you took off with Braeden and apologize? What do you want me to do? Run back into your arms? No, it's not gonna happen.” You shook your head, a few strands of hair falling onto your face.

He was silent for a few moments. For the first time in your life, you saw Derek Hale speechless.

“I want to explain.” His gaze finally met yours.

“The damage is done Derek, I don't want to h…”

“Can you please shut up?” You were taken aback by his words but you still let him continue “Just hear me out and then you can punch me, turn your back on me and hate me for the rest of your life.” He took a deep breath “I know that what I did was wrong and I will never forgive myself for that. I...I needed to do that, I didn't take off with Braeden, she knew someone that could help me, she took me there.”

“What about picking up the phone? Or texting me? I left you voicemails, fucking embarrassing ones, half drunk and alone outside some random club as I tried not to cry and you…” You ran your hand through your hair in frustration “I didn't even know if you were alive. You dumped me and I found out through somebody else. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was?”

“I'm sorry.” It was like he was stuck on repeat like those were the only words he knew.

“Saying you're sorry won't make things okay again Derek.” You shook your head “Do you have any idea what you did to me? What you turned me into?”

“I asked Scott about you and he said that you changed a lot. He said that it was painful to see you like that.”

“Jack had black hair and green eyes.” You rambled, staring off into the distance.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“Brian played basketball and Dean had this I don't care attitude but once you got to know him, if you knew how to handle him he was the sweetest guy I've ever met.” You smiled fondly at the memory of the three boys “The point is…” You sighed “They all had something that reminded me of you and they weren't you, that's what I needed at the time.”

“Did you love them?” He asked, his eyes on the floor like he was scared of the answer.

You did love them, but not as much as you loved Derek. Although you were still young you knew that you were never going to love someone as much as you loved Derek.

“Yes.”

Your voice was cold and firm, it wasn’t a lie but you could’ve said something else. You could’ve said that it wasn’t the same. But you didn’t and the words got caught up in your throat, knowing that they would’ve changed everything. Maybe you didn’t want things to change, or maybe you did but you just wanted to make him suffer. You wanted to see the hurt flash across his eyes because when it came to you Derek Hale was defenseless, he could never mask anything with anger, he knew you’d see right through him. It was both a blessing and a curse.

Derek closed his eyes and took a deep breath before looking up at you.

“It was the fucking cycle. Someone hurt you, you hurt me and I hurt somebody else. A few somebody elses. You turned me into what I've always despised, you turned me into a monster.”

He remained quiet like he was processing your words.

“I had to get over the fact that I lost you and you weren’t even dead.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“And you know what the worst part is? After all this time, after all the shit you put me through, I still love you like I did the day you left.” You rubbed your face, not caring for the minimal amount of makeup that you probably had ruined.

“You...you still love me?” His eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning.

“I thought it was obvious.” The traces of a smile reached your features as you shook your head “But I can’t forgive you. I...I can barely look at you.”

He stayed silent, biting the inside of his cheek, looking like he was thinking about something.

“I wanna make it up to you.” He said.

“Derek.” You sighed “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“(Y/N), I’m not letting you go. I wanna make things right.”

“I’m not ready.”

“I don’t care how long it takes.” He shook his head.

“Derek, I...I need to think about that.” You started to feel light headed and your heart beat increased.

“Are you okay?” He asked with a frown.

You pushed him off you and stumbled towards somewhere that didn’t make you feel like everything was closing down on you. Clutching your chest you fell to your knees unable to control your breathing. You closed your eyes and tried to repeat the mantra your therapist told you to use in situations like the one you were in. But it wasn’t working, not when Derek was there, the one who triggered your panic attack.

“(Y/N)” His voice seemed distant.

You looked up at him, your eyes yellow and your fangs over your teeth.

“I can’t breathe.” You growled feeling your control slipping.

“(Y/N), focus on me. Focus on my voice.” He kneeled down next to you.

You were trying to pay attention to him, but even with special hearing, you could barely make out any of his words. The only thing you could hear was your own heartbeat.

“What’s your anchor?”

“Anger...” You said in between breaths.

“Focus on that!” Despite your condition, you still noticed the crease between his eyebrows and a concerned look in his eyes.

“I...I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not angry anymore. My anger was towards you.”

“Repeat after me, alpha, beta, omega.”

“Alpha…” You growled “Beta...omega.”

But it wasn’t working. You felt blood trickling down your hands as your claws pierced your palms breaking the skin. It felt like you were running out of oxygen, like your lungs had forgotten how to work. Everything around you was like a blur, you couldn’t see where you were although you knew. Not even the hard concrete hurting your knees made you flinch. You felt nothing.

So it surprised you when Derek suddenly cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. You were shocked, to say the least, and held your breath, your eyes were wide open and your hands clenched. You didn’t kiss back, not because you didn’t react but because you didn’t want to. After a few seconds, he pulled away slowly, your breathing back to normal when you remembered that something similar happened once with Stiles and Lydia. You didn’t make eye contact, not exactly sure how to feel about the entire situation yet he didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Are you okay now?” He cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah thanks.” You gave him a small smile, still not looking at him “I think I’m just gonna head home.”

“I’ll take you.”

“No, it’s fine.” You pushed yourself off the floor and brushed the dirt off your hands and knees.

“(Y/N), you’re not going anywhere alone after what happened.”

“Fine.” You sighed, too tired to argue with him.

The two of you walked in silence towards his car. He tried to open the door for you, but you beat him to it. Things were already awkward enough. You leaned your head against the window as he drove, your arms wrapped around your torso. Your eyelids were heavy, your body felt tired, the aftermath of a panic attack was almost as bad as the panic attack itself.

“How long has this been happening?” He asked after a few minutes of silence.

“What?” You turned your head towards him.

The moonlight illuminated his features making him look angelic, like some sort of creature carved by the gods. Somehow, you still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that you once called him yours. You called him yours only to have him ripped off of you like a band-aid.

“The panic attacks.” His voice brought you back to reality.

You sat up straight and rested your hands in your lap.

“Since you left. I got depressed and then anxiety came along.”

“How are you now?”

“I’m doing better I guess.” You fumbled with your fingers in your lap.

Derek didn’t ask anything else to your relief and you returned to your original position. When you got to your house, you gave him a quick thank you and a goodbye before you went inside. That night you didn’t sleep because all you could think of was about the time where you were able to call Derek yours.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

You typed on the computer at the front desk of the animal clinic. Deaton had been generous enough to give you a job to keep you busy and since you could actually handle it, he kept you.

Stiles’ voices could be heard from the examination room making it hard for you to concentrate. With a sigh you got up from your chair and made your way towards the human boy.

“Stiles, for the last time…”

“Sorry, sorry.” He held up his hands.

You rolled your eyes and got back to your desk.

“Hey (Y/N).” He and Scott decided to come after you “Can I ask you something?”

“If I say yes will you leave me alone?” You asked not looking up from some papers you were working on.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“So, you know that night at the club.” He sat on your desk with a smirk.

“Yes…”

“Theo says you left with Derek.” You gulped “Care to tell us what happened?” A goofy grin was spread across his face as he wiggled his eyebrows.

You glared at him, a small growl coming from the back of your throat that you were sure that he heard. When you looked up at Scott, he mumbled a small apology. Knowing the two boys for most of your life, you knew this had been Stiles’ idea and Scott, being the good friend he was, went along with it.

“Why don’t you mind your own business Stilinski?”

The small bell above the door rang and you looked over to see who had just walked in. Your eyes widened as you saw Derek, holding a two cups of coffee and a box where there was probably food in there.

“Is that for me?” Stiles hopped off your desk and walked towards Derek and the food.

“No, it’s not.” He growled.

“Hey, Stiles.” Scott finally spoke up “I have to show you that thing I was telling you about the other day.”

“What thing?”

“The thing.” Scott raised his eyebrows.

It was obvious that he was trying to give you and Derek some time alone, but Stiles didn’t want to leave.

“Oh, the thing.” A light went off in his head and the two boys finally left.

“Hi.” He grinned.

“Uh, hi.” You gave him a small smile “What are you doing here?”

“I brought you coffee and a muffin.” He placed one of the cups and the box with the muffin on your desk.

“Thanks…”

“I just thought I’d stop by and bring you something to eat. I mean you’re probably bored.”

“That’s nice.” You felt yourself blush, so you looked down hoping your hair would cover your face.

You grabbed your food and got up, walking towards the small chairs by the door where people usually waited. You turned them towards each other and sat down on one of them and sipped your drink as Derek sat on the other.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m better thank you.” You smiled.

“Are they getting back together?” You heard Stiles’ voice from the other room “She’s been really moody lately, she needs to get laid.”

“She’s gonna hear you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek and clenched your fists fighting the urge to get up and punch Stiles in the face.

“So…” You cleared your throat trying to get rid of the awkward tension in the room “What have you been up to?”

“Not much.” He shrugged “I’m looking for a new apartment.”

“Oh really?” You took a bite of your muffin “This is really good.”

“It’s from that bakery where we had our first date.” You cringed “What?” He chuckled.

You thought about your first date with Derek and how everything went wrong. It started raining, you tripped and spilled your milkshake all over his shirt and the only place that was open was that small coffee shop where the two of you found shelter.

“I was thinking about that day.” You shook your head “It was awful.”

“It was cute.” He laughed.

“It was a disaster.” You giggled “But I’m glad things turned out okay. I honestly thought you’d never want to see me again.” The two of you laughed at the memory.

“Here’s to first dates.” He raised his cup.

“Date?” You raised an eyebrow.

“I mean...if you want it to be one.” He stuttered and blushed.

“Here’s to first dates.” You raised your cup with a smile.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・

That first date turned into many more dates, more than when you were together. So it was no surprise when you found yourself at his new apartment helping him move in. You sat on the floor surrounded by boxes, not knowing Derek actually owned that much stuff.

“Since when do you have so much stuff?” You asked.

He turned around after putting a book in a shelf.

“Since always.” He shrugged.

You came across a box that was different from the others. It was a shoe box, but it was worn out like it had been opened too many times, but it was too light to actually have shoes in it. Curiosity got the best of you and you opened the box gasping at its contents. There were tons of polaroids of the two of you, some of them you didn’t know about their existence. You went through every single one of them with a smile. There were little post its with your calligraphy, cute little notes you had left at the loft when you stayed the night. There was a journal and you carefully opened it before reading its first page.

I don’t know how to do this. You were the one who always liked to be artistic not me. But I guess this is the way I found of keeping you alive in my memory, by writing on a stupid journal that I bought at a convenience store. It’s been way too long since I last saw you and I know how miserable I made you. I listened to your voicemails, all of them, but I never called you back because I didn’t know what to say. I left without saying anything. But the truth is, you’re better off without me at least is what I’m telling myself. You’ll forget me eventually, you’ll forget we were together and the crazy world I pulled you into, you’ll move on and find someone else, you’ll move on and you’ll become a mother, the kind of mother that cheers too loud for her kids, you’ll grow old, you’ll be safe and I’ll be here writing on this journal about how I was stupid enough to let you go.

The journal was full, but you didn’t read anything else. Instead you kept going through the box. You found his ring, you kept yours too, you just didn’t expect that he would keep his. In the bottom of the box, there was a drawing that you immediately recognized. It was your drawing, his face on the page and your initials on the bottom right corner of the page. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the day you made it, the day he ruined a perfectly good drawing book just to get a page. The day you told him without words how much he meant to you.

You put the box away and walked towards him with the drawing in your hand. He heard your footsteps and turned around just in time for you to press your lips against his. It felt new, but old at the same time. It felt like coming home after been away for too long, because in fact that was it. Derek was your home and you had been away for too long.

“Fuck, I missed you so much.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Not more than I did.” He said breathlessly once you pulled away.

“You kept the drawing.” You showed him the paper.

“I did.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, his red cheeks contrasting against his pale skin.

“You’re so cute.” You shook your head before you kissed him again.

“Does this mean...?” He asked, as his thumbs traced soft circles on your waist.

“Yes, Derek it does.” You giggled happily “You made it up to me.”

Maybe he made the wrong decision when he left, maybe it was a mistake, maybe he came back for the wrong reasons but in the end the two of you were back together and you hadn’t felt that happy since he left. So maybe it was worth the pain, maybe it was all worth it if it meant that he’d end up right back in your arms.

feedback is appreciated :) i’d link my ask box but tumblr is a dick

#teen wolf imagine #teen wolf preferences #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #derek hale one shot #derek hale fluff #derek hale smut #derek hale #teen wolf #writing

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