Chapter Text
As Derek premonished, his roar did attract attention.
Stiles was beginning to think that he was born under an unlucky star.
No, actually, Derek was the one born under an unlucky star, because Stiles only ever got injured when trying to prevent Derek from being killed or further injured.
Like now.
Derek’s leg and chest already bled from arrows—Kate had stood from a good distance away so they wouldn’t notice her.
Then, as she walked closer and Derek tried to make Stiles escape, she shot a flare to blind Derek, switched to a gun, and shot Derek in the chest again.
Stiles cried out Derek’s name.
Kate walked even closer, gun now pointed a little higher at Derek’s head, who was slumped unmoving against a tree, and Stiles leaped to cover him.
He managed to hug Derek’s head to his chest in the nick of time, just as the gunshot rang out. Pain blossomed across his shoulder blade, and Derek stirred at that—he looked up at Stiles with wide eyes, shock and disbelief and something else sharp in those silvery green orbs, then whispered for Stiles to run.
And Stiles couldn’t help but huff out a shaky laugh. “Is that all you know how to say?” he asked as he tightened his hug around Derek. “Oh god, I can’t die like this.”
“That’s why I’m telling you to run!” hissed Derek.
Stiles’ head spun—he wasn’t above just turning around and tasering this bitch regardless of her gun. “I can’t die without hearing her scream in pain,” he muttered under his breath, and alarm flitted across Derek’s face.
But no.
The most important thing was to buy time for Derek to self-heal.
Derek’s fingers tightened on Stiles’ arms. “Wait, wha—”
The cold steel of a muzzle pressed against the back of Stiles’ neck.
“Move,” said Kate. “I don’t know how he seduced you to be such a loyal dog, but you’re in my way, and I will blow your brains out.”
Stiles’ heart raced a mile a minute. “That’s my neck,” he breathed out, “not my brains. Guess you failed your science classes, huh?”
“Hm”—Stiles could feel her shrug—“I don’t know, I managed to burn down the Hale house and get away with it, so I think I did pretty well.”
“No, it just means you’re good at seducing lonely chemistry teachers and young teenage boys.”
A heartstopping silence.
Stiles could feel Derek tense at his words—he hoped Derek didn’t hate him for bringing it up, but the fact that she’d done something like that….
It made him see red.
Kate wrapped her hand around Stiles’ throat and squeezed just enough to be uncomfortable, yanking his head back. “I can’t believe you told him about our little secret, Derek. He does have a pretty cute face….” She trailed the muzzle of the gun against Stiles’ temple. “I wonder how it’ll feel to watch me kill another person you love, knowing it’s all your f—”
Derek let out a loud growl, trying to weakly surge forward—she must’ve put something poisonous to werewolves in her bullet—and Stiles took the opportunity to attempt to stab the arm gripping his neck with a doused knife.
He barely nicked her skin, unfortunately, but it was enough to make her release her grip on his neck. A spin around and half second later, Stiles had her tased and on the ground in a shoulder throw, her gun falling a few feet away.
And then he punched her in the face over and over and over again, unable to stop, until Scott showed up out of nowhere and pulled him away.
“Stiles,” said Scott, looking around. “Stiles, c’mon! She’s knocked out, and I think there’s something else here!”
The last part of his sentence pierced through Stiles’ boiling rage.
“He’s here.” Derek quite literally dug out the bullet in his chest with his claws and stood up, leaning heavily against the tree. “Peter.”
Stiles’ eyes widened. “Wha— Peter?” he hissed to Scott. “The comatose uncle is the alpha?!”
“Yeah, Deaton said Peter’s nurse was the one who asked for a copy of that deer report,” whispered Scott.
Allison and her dad stood on guard around them, a fact that Stiles only noticed now that he wasn’t focused on punching the shit out of Kate. They must’ve come with Scott as reinforcement, but, well, the alpha knocked the both of them out without even being seen.
Stiles hadn’t realized werewolves were even capable of moving that fast.
Derek and Scott weren’t doing so hot against Peter, either. Peter was just too strong, too fast, even when fighting against the both of them—Stiles wondered just how big the gap between alphas and other werewolves were.
Then again, Derek seemed to be faring better than Scott, so perhaps fighting skill and experience played a large part as well.
Kate stirred from where she’d lain prone on the ground, knocked out from Stiles’ punches, and reached for her gun, only for Stiles to point her gun at her. He didn’t want to kill her, of course—the logical side of his brain had won out—but before he could even do anything, Peter shifted back to his human form and grabbed her by the throat from behind.
Allison and her father stood up and froze.
“Your niece looks like you,” said Peter. “Probably not as damaged, though. I’ll give you a chance. Say that you’re sorry for decimating my family, for leaving me burned and broken for six years. Say it, and I’ll let her live.”
Kate gasped for air, terror flashing across her face. “I’m sorry.”
“Hm.” Peter considered her apology for a moment. “That didn’t sound very sincere.”
And then he ripped out her throat, and shifted back into his monstrous werewolf form.
Allison’s dad shoved Allison behind him, gun at the ready, but Peter….
He didn’t go for Allison like he’d threatened.
No, he lunged straight at Stiles.
One gunshot, then two, three.
Stiles couldn’t tell if his shots actually landed because Peter moved too fast, but it didn’t matter anyway, because Derek knocked into Peter midair with a growl.
A car drove up as Derek and Scott fought Peter. To Stiles’ great surprise, Isaac, Boyd, and Erica got out of the car with vials of something in hand. Scott kicked Peter into the front porch of the Hale house, Derek slammed him into the ground, and then—
“Now!” Isaac threw a vial at Derek, who caught it and promptly smashed it on Peter.
Howls of pain filled the night air.
Derek jumped to the side and ripped off his burning shirt as they watched three more vials sail through the air onto Peter, until nothing was left but a charred, terribly burned Peter in his human form, lying down on the ground.
Stiles had to sit down against a tree—the blood running down his back from the bullet wound in his shoulder was beginning to take its toll, not to mention the graze on his side and slightly more serious graze on his arm.
Isaac, Erica, and Boyd immediately rushed over.
Scott paused and watched Derek, as did Stiles—
“Wait!” shouted Scott. “You said the cure comes from the one who bit you. Derek, if you do this— Her father, her family— What am I suppo—”
Derek slit Peter’s throat with one swift move.
His eyes glowed scarlet in the night, no longer a bright blue.
“I’m the alpha now.”