Chapter Text
"Yeah, that"s right!" Stiles yells as Kate"s rapid footsteps fade down the hallway. "Run away, you rapist bitch!" He keeps her gun at the ready as he walks to the door and glances through it, just to make sure she is truly gone before he drops his guard. Gunfire can still be heard from outside, and he feels trepidation.
His confrontation with Peter is near.
Then, Derek speaks and reminds him of what he came to do in the first place.
"Uhh...Stiles?"
He turns back to the wolf, blinking owlishly. "Yeah?"
"You feel like helping me out of this now?"
"Oh! Yeah, sure," Stiles responds quickly, setting Kate"s gun and his stolen knife down on the table before helping Derek. He rips the tape from Derek"s abdomen, removing the wires connecting him to the generator, and casts it all aside before examining more closely the shackles secured around Derek"s wrists. They are locked up tight, Derek"s hands faintly purple and the skin around the metal abraded, leading Stiles to conclude that the shackles are laced with wolfsbane like his knife. At Derek"s instruction, he drags Kate"s bag over from just inside the door and rifles through it for the keys, holding them up victoriously when he finds them under a man"s T-shirt, which he remembers as the one Derek wore the day he was abducted. The maroon fabric is torn in several places, which makes sense because he seriously doubts Derek would ever go down without a fight, least of all to Kate. Leaving the shirt beside the generator, he swiftly unlocks both of Derek"s hands, taking them in his own and worriedly assisting him in stepping away on shaking legs from the section of chainlink fence against which he was held. As Derek"s strength returns, Stiles rubs gently across his hands and wrists to help the blood flow back into the deprived extremities. Derek lets him, and Stiles uses the time to subtly check him over for other injuries. Thankfully, he finds none—if there were any, they must have healed like Derek"s wrists have almost done, now that the electrical current isn"t keeping his powers at bay.
"You OK?" Stiles asks.
"Yeah..." Derek replies, looking with a furrowed brow up at the ceiling. "Don"t take this the wrong way, but why are you here now? You shouldn"t put yourself in danger for me like that."
Stiles bites his lip.
"You really have to ask that?"
Derek stares into Stiles" eyes for several beats before something softens in his face. "No, I guess not. It was still a stupid move, but I"d be lying if I said I wasn"t grateful for it all the same," he accepts, the corner of his mouth twitching like he wants to smile. They stare at each other for a few seconds longer, until Stiles gives into the relief-fueled urge to wrap his arms around Derek and hug him for all he"s worth. The wolf doesn"t smell quite as pleasant as he normally does, unwashed and slightly musty, but given how long he was kept in the dim room, Stiles isn"t surprised, nor does he care. Derek"s warmth is comforting, and seeing him alive and relatively well does wonders to release the tightness that has been ever-present in his chest.
Derek reciprocates the embrace more than he ever has before, and Stiles smiles into the skin of Derek"s neck, feeling safe. He needed this. Derek pulls away too soon and reclaims his shirt from the table, pulling it on over his head, and Stiles tries to hide his disappointment.
Derek still sees.
"Something wrong?"
Stiles becomes flustered. "N-no."
He looks away as his cheeks colour, and Derek chuckles. "How did you know I was here, by the way?" he enquires. "I know Peter came looking the next day, but Kate must"ve done something to hide us down here because he didn"t stick around." He takes in Stiles" appearance for the first time and frowns, the mismatched and dirt-covered outfit and the fresh-looking scrapes on his knees. The way Stiles tenses up at the mention of his uncle is also suspicious, but he doesn"t mention it yet.
"Peter attacked Lydia earlier, to get me to do what he wanted," Stiles explains, picking his gun and knife back up and immediately wishing he had a place to store them. His lacrosse shorts wouldn"t provide that much stability so he can"t shove them in the waistband, meaning he is forced to hold them in his hands. At least they will be at the ready. "Anyway, he wouldn"t let me get her any help until I agreed to help him find you. He stole Danny"s laptop and got me to track your cell, which lead here, and then he left. I"m surprised I beat him... He had a pretty big head start. I"m glad, but I wonder what kept him."
Derek hums. "Why do I get the feeling there"s something you"re not telling me?"
"What? That"s ridiculous!" Stiles splutters.
"Stiles... Tell me."
The boy"s eyes dart around nervously, looking everywhere but at Derek"s face, and Derek feels his blood run cold as he remembers the threat Peter made at the hospital. "Did he..." he starts, finding it difficult to talk around the lump in his throat. He steps closer and subtly sniffs the air for impure scents, growling quietly when he picks up traces of Peter"s arousal on Stiles" shirt.
"Did he...hurt you?" Derek finishes, unable to actually say the word.
"Can we not talk about this right now?"
Derek sighs. "Stiles..."
"Please?"
The slight crack to Stiles" voice is what makes Derek give in. "Alright," he yields, "but as soon as this is over, I want to know exactly what he did to you." Reaching out, he gives Stiles" shoulder a squeeze and thinks that he already knows, though he still wants confirmation. He keeps his hand there until Stiles meets his eyes briefly and nods, clearly already dreading that future conversation. It will be necessary, Derek knows, for more reasons than just Stiles getting the secret off his chest. He smiles wryly, amused that he of all people is insisting on not keeping things bottled up, but everything he knows about himself always seems to fly out the window whenever Stiles is involved. "We probably have a lot to talk about anyway, and I promise I won"t judge you or anything like that, if that"s what you"re afraid of."
Taking a deep breath, Stiles allows the tension in his body to seep away and latches eagerly on to his previous desire for revenge. He uses that as a distraction now that his rescue mission is complete. "Fine... Can we go kill Peter now?" he asks. "I"d say it"s long overdue."
More gunfire.
"You sure you"re up for it?"
"Believe me, I am," Stiles promises.
Derek leads the way, following the trail of blood Kate left in her wake until they reach the top of the basement stairs. He is confident going into combat now that the generator isn"t keeping his strength down, and he listens closely to get a rough idea of how many people are out there and where on the property they are. The stench of copper, wolfsbane and gun powder is thick in the air, and Derek knows already that several people are dead, likely most of Kate"s allies. Deducing that all of the current noise is coming from further away, not in the house, he pushes the door open and steps through, looking back over his shoulder to make sure that Stiles is still behind him. The boy readjusts his grip on his weapons, and Derek thinks it is about time he brings out his own. The shift comes easily—his eyes change from their natural hazel to ice-cold blue; his fangs and claws grow from his teeth and nails; the hair of his eyebrows recedes into his skin as his brow gets heavier; and coarse hair sprouts down along his sideburns, meeting his beard and making him look positively wild. The sound of fighting all at once gets louder, then cuts off abruptly with another gunshot and an agonised scream, someone else meeting their end. "Come on..." Derek whispers, his fangs making the words come out a little slurred. He moves in the direction of the front door, toward the action.
There are bodies everywhere, nameless hunters all eviscerated. Peter is nowhere to be found, but Chris Argent stands a couple of feet in front of the porch steps, pointing the barrel of a hunting rifle at the trees on the opposite side of the clearing. As Derek descends the first step, Chris whirls around in a panic and barely stops himself from firing before he realises who it is.
"Where"s Peter?" Derek demands, braced for action.
"I don"t know!" Chris hisses.
Stiles turns back-to-back with Derek to prevent an ambush.
"I don"t care about our differences right now, Derek. Just help me kill Peter and I swear we"ll be golden," Chris whispers, quiet enough that Peter will hopefully not hear him.
"As long as I"m the one to actually kill him."
Chris pauses for a second.
"Deal."
Then, Peter walks casually out of the darkness, hands clasped behind his back as if he hasn"t just committed mass murder. "Well, well, well! Fancy meeting you here, nephew," he greets, blinking innocently. "I would"ve come sooner, but I decided to be nice and let Stiles have a little taste of heroism before I snuff him out. I"m thoughtful like that. Where is Kate, by the way? She"s the last one on my list, and I"d really like to get it over with quickly so I can have another crack at delivering you and your new pet your punishments." He smirks when Derek growls at him, a warning, then looks over the beta"s shoulder and flashes his red eyes at Stiles. "You looking forward to round two, Stiles? I just can"t wait to get inside you."
"Don"t you dare talk to him..." Derek threatens, taking a step forward.
"Protective, I see."
Before anyone else can do anything, both Derek and Peter look off to the side, the former with their eyebrows raised in surprise. Scott comes traipsing through the trees, dressed in the suit he wore to the winter formal. He seems surprised, too, to find so many people there, especially so many dead, but the expression clears and is quickly replaced by contempt for Derek and Stiles.
"Scott?" Stiles speaks up, breaking the silence. "What are you doing here?"
"Ask Peter," the other boy replies.
All heads turn to the alpha, and Chris cocks his rifle.
"This is our final showdown, is it not?" Peter smirks, unclasping his hands and instead crossing his arms over his chest. The look on his face tells everyone that he doesn"t think he should have to spell it out for them. "I figured that meant all the key players should be here. Which reminds me... One moment, please." He walks back into the shadows and returns a second later, holding tight to yet another person. No one moves at first, but then, when she lifts her head and reveals her identity, there is a flurry of activity. Scott lunges forward, transformed into his beta form, and tries to go for Peter"s throat, but the man sidesteps the impulsive attack easily and pushes him to the ground with a dry laugh. Chris shouts in fury and fires his rifle, but Peter is too swift for that, too, and blocks it with his captive. She screams through the duct tape across her mouth as the bullet pierces her arm, and Chris shakes with conflicting emotions.
"Careful now! Don"t want to accidentally kill your daughter, do you, without telling her everything you"ve been lying to her about her whole life? That would be a real shame... There was so much, after all. You see, while I was giving Stiles a chance to get here first and save my nephew, I had some free time. The school is down a teacher—thank me later, Stiles; as I understand it, you and Adrian Harris never did get along—and after that was done, I collected our guest here. Now, don"t be rude..." He rips the tape off her mouth.
"Say hello, Allison."
"Dad, what"s going on?!" she cries.
"It"ll all be OK, sweetheart; I"ll get you out of this!" Chris swears vehemently.
Peter grins, showing his fangs.
"We"ll see about that." Without preamble, he bites into the pale flesh of Allison"s shoulder, causing her to scream louder and thrash against him, trying fruitlessly to get away. Peter"s red eyes bore into Chris" as he bites harder, daring him to act. Chris would take the bait it weren"t for Derek holding him back.
"Allison!" he yells, panicked.
"Chris! Chris, calm down!" Derek implores, shockingly having to use every ounce of his strength to keep the hunter from foolishly charging in and getting himself killed like Peter wants. "This is all part of his plan, for you to forget all your training, to act on feelings alone. That will get you killed, so stay focused and don"t let him get to you! Allison will be fine." Chris stops struggling after a short while, sagging back into the younger man"s hold with his teeth bared and his breathing laboured, but Derek doesn"t release him yet. The calm could be a facade intended to get him to do just that.
Peter retracts his fangs. "Very wise, Derek," he compliments, licking his lips and smiling as if the taste of Allison"s blood is one he enjoys immensely. Derek wouldn"t be surprised.
"I"ll kill you..." Chris seethes.
"You think so? Let"s put that to the test!"
Peter runs for the trees, dragging a still-crying Allison behind him.
Chris does break free of Derek then, running full-tilt in pursuit of and hurling curses at the alpha. Derek is about to dash after the hunter when he detects movement out of the corner of his eye, an approach he didn"t notice because all of his attention was held by the events directly in front of him. He turns his head and has just enough time to open his mouth in shock at how close Kate is, practically right next to him, before she fires the shotgun she holds almost point-blank to his chest. He flies backward, through the living room window of his old house, and rolls along the dust- and ash-covered floorboards. The buckshot in his chest is free of wolfsbane, a saving grace, but it is still enough for white spots to appear in his vision. He is unable to do much more than wince and crawl uncoordinatedly away from Kate as she steps through the window after him, seeming not to notice that a shard of glass still in the frame cuts into her thigh.
"I really didn"t want it to end like this, Derek." She sighs as if it pains her, cocking her hip to the side with her shotgun gripped in both hands. The cut on her thigh drips blood on to the floor, and her eyes pierce into Derek"s. "We could"ve had so much fun together, but clearly that was just wishful thinking on my part, so...my bad. I guess it"s finally time to say goodbye."
Outside, Stiles vacillates briefly about what to do.
Should he go after Peter, Scott and Chris, or help Derek again?
The answer is obvious.
Taking the front door instead of the now-broken window, Stiles barges into the living room in time to see Kate crouching down in front of Derek. She whispers something to him where he rests against the wall, his face scrunched up as he holds a hand over the centre of his chest.
She aims the shotgun at his face.
"No!"
Stiles races forward with his knife raised in his right hand, intending to plunge the blade deep into her back. His shout catches Kate by surprise—she spins around quickly to face him, and her shotgun bashes harshly into his ribs and knocks him off-balance. Stumbling, his knife-wielding hand slashes accidentally through the air, and Stiles has a second of realisation about what is about to happen before it does. He cannot do anything to stop the momentum, and he freezes in shock when the knife ends up buried to the hilt inside her left eye. They both stop moving immediately, stabilising themselves against one another, and Stiles stares disbelievingly into Kate"s other eye as the intelligence behind it slowly disappears.
The shotgun falls from her hands.
She releases a gurgling sound, then crumples to the floor.
The knife stays embedded in her skull.
He leaps back and starts trembling all over, blood rushing in his ears.
"Stiles!"
Head snapping up, Stiles stares at Derek with wide eyes. The beta stands before him, a hand still pressed against his chest but seemingly recovering well from the shotgun shell Kate unloaded into him. Derek"s mouth moves but Stiles can"t make out the words, not until Derek"s other hand comes to rest over his heart, too. He draws strength from the touch and, after an indeterminate amount of time, Derek"s words begin to make sense and his breaths come more easily. "Thanks..." he mumbles as he steps back from Derek, partly to hide his embarrassment and partly to put some distance between himself and Kate"s body. He can"t look at it. Sure, he had planned on killing her if it came down to it, but actually doing the deed was more than he could ever have anticipated. Taking a life, even one so despicable, doesn"t feel good, but he has other things to focus on, as Derek reminds him after watching him carefully for a minute. Peter is still out there, so Stiles reluctantly follows Derek outside and into the trees, trusting the beta to lead him in the right direction. Derek"s nose is in the air, an indication of how he is tracking their prey, and soon, with the sound of gunshots in the distance, they bump into Scott. Stiles" old best friend is sitting on the ground with Allison"s head in his lap, and what looks like a strip of his green shirt is wrapped in a makeshift bandage around the bite on her shoulder.
"I think she passed out from shock, and Peter ditched the deadweight," Scott informs them, not looking up from Allison"s face. Neither Stiles nor Derek reply, but they do watch with interest as Scott stands and gently leans his girlfriend against the nearest tree, affectionately tucking a lock of brunette hair behind her ear. "I stayed behind to make sure she was OK. Chris went ahead."
Derek walks on without comment.
Stiles hurries to keep up, uncomfortably aware that two have become three.
He doesn"t know how to act around Scott, their destroyed friendship the metaphorical elephant in the room, or in this case forest, so he keeps his eyes tracked straight ahead, on the shifting muscles of Derek"s back. Their pace increases as the gunshots get louder, and then, when Stiles thinks they are close, it goes quiet in an instant. Chris stands in the middle of a clearing, frantically trying to reload his rifle. Peter isn"t in sight but, from the way Chris is behaving, Stiles guesses that the alpha is there somewhere, hiding and biding his time. The hunter manages to get more ammunition in his gun, and has just raised it to fire again when a great roar echoes throughout the area. Even to Stiles it is deafening, and he joins all the wolves in covering their ears.
Peter jumps down from a nearby tree and lands on top of Scott, taking him down and bashing his head right into the ground. The crooked-jawed beta is knocked out.
Chris fires his rifle, and Peter dodges sideways toward his nephew, slashing through the air in a practiced move that catches Derek across the face. Derek stumbles back, having not expected the attack, and this leaves him open to further blows that Peter easily lands. Another shot from Chris, and Peter spins both himself and Derek around in a flash so that the bullet misses its target and whizzes between them instead. Not missing a beat, Peter continues to tussle with his nephew, managing to temporarily incapacitate him, and then rounds on Chris before the hunter can load another bullet into his rifle.
Stiles rushes over to Derek.
"Hey! C"mon, wake up!" he begs, smacking the wolf hard on the cheek.
All he gets is an ache in his hand.
The sound of a fist connecting with flesh reaches his ears, and then Chris is thrown over his head and crashes into a tree, joining Scott and Derek in unconsciousness. Only then does Stiles realise that he left his gun back at the house, in too much shock to pick it up from where he"d dropped it, and he turns on his heel just in time to see Peter running at him at full speed. He doesn"t even get a chance to react before he is knocked down, Peter landing heavily atop him and causing all the air to leave his lungs.
"You killed Kate," Peter spits in his face.
"So?" Stiles gasps, pushing ineffectually at the alpha"s chest.
"She was mine! You took my revenge away from me!"
"Go fuck yourself, you psycho!"
"I"ve had it with you..."
Claws hover menacingly above Stiles" face and are then raised high in the air, where they are poised to come down and end him. A sudden rage-filled roar halts Peter, and in the next instant the alpha is gone from above him as Derek, awake again, barrels into his side.
Scrabbling over to Chris, Stiles fumbles in the hunter"s pocket for a bullet to load into the rifle. Derek and Peter continue to fight, neither one gaining the upper hand. Peter fights with all the strength his alpha status gives him, which would ordinarily be enough to overpower his nephew, but the sight of Peter almost killing Stiles has filled Derek with such fury that he is able to match his uncle blow for blow, not even feeling all the scratches and bites he gets from Peter"s claws and teeth. Stiles is in awe of Derek"s prowess, and as soon as the two wolves are separated enough for him to get a clear shot, he takes it. Pulling the trigger, the wolfsbane-laced bullet flies through the air and pulls Peter to a stop just as he is about to sink his fangs into Derek"s arm. He stumbles as blood pours from his neck, pawing at the wound in a futile effort to save himself from bleeding out. Derek takes advantage of the opening and tackles Peter to the ground, his hand lifted in the air for a split second like Peter"s was before he savagely does to his uncle what his uncle had planned on doing to Stiles. No other sounds are made then, apart from Peter"s rasping breaths as he dies. The body count increases one last time, and Stiles finds this death much more satisfying. He will probably have a more intense reaction to all of this later, but in that moment he just feels an all-encompassing sense of relief.
Chris remains out cold.
Derek hunches in on himself, then flings his head back and roars at the sky.
This causes Scott to stir, clutching at his head with a groan. "Ugh, what happened?"
Stiles ignores him and, when the roar comes to an end, walks tentatively forward with small steps. Derek"s head turns in his direction, staring at him with blood-red eyes.
He gulps.
"I"m the alpha now," Derek announces in a raspy voice.
Stiles nods along dumbly. He doesn"t know what to make of something that has featured so frequently in his nightmares suddenly belonging to Derek. The red eyes terrified him when they were Peter"s, but now that they belong to Derek, they take on a different meaning. He isn"t scared. Derek keeps staring at him intensely as he walks closer, not stopping until they are standing right next to each other. Faintly, as if he is far away, Stiles hears Scott ask him what he is doing, but again he ignores the other boy.
"Mine..." Derek breathes.
Then, Stiles gasps as Derek"s lips meet his.