another night's dawn (teen wolf, derek/stiles)
another night's dawn
chapter seven
The grimy cement obviously wasn’t deemed necessary to a broom treatment when it was a dark, creepy corridor that led to a werewolf torture chamber. He could feel trekked earth, and probably glass, trying to break the skin on his palms and cut through his trousers.
derek/stiles. ♢ teen wolf. ♢ pg-13. ♢ pre-slash, au after 1x11.
if i owned them, my fanfics would actually be episodes.
another night's dawn.
chapter seven.
Everything had gone from hell in a hand basket to an even lower level of hell once it became apparent that both Peter and Kate had escaped. All of that for nothing. Scott was still a werewolf, the Hales still weren’t avenged, now it seemed there would be even more hunters after them, not to mention Derek’s house was groaning angrily at having been invaded by a Yukon and Stiles was probably going to lose a body part because of that.
The only upside was the fact that they’d just finished making a pact with Chris that he wouldn’t hunt the werewolves in the clearing, and that he’d make sure no harm came to any of their human counterparts on top of the Sheriff, Lydia, Jackson’s family and Danny. He flat out refused to let Scott near Allison however, and for once Scott agreed. He didn’t think Allison would want to be near him, anyways. And no one in the circle of unlikely allies would put it passed Kate to use her niece as leverage or bait to draw out the Betas.
Stiles was also provided more insight into the two particular Betas who kept close to one another protectively. Chris had thanked Brenna for saving his life, comparing it to a time that hadn’t ended so well in Wichita and called them Xavier and Anne. Obviously their names weren’t real, and it seemed like they were going alphabetically through burned aliases. Stiles was curious as to why Derek didn’t, but wasn’t about to ask the irate male who was muttering about killing everyone.
Chris departed to get home to Allison and Helena, leaving the werewolves and two humans to apprehensively watch the rage build and build underneath Derek’s otherwise stony exterior. Stiles didn’t have to be a werewolf to feel it simmering in the air. He was so screwed, and not in the good way that would finally devirginize him.
After a moment of silence where all breathing seemed to halt, Derek tipped his head back and let loose a roar. The cords in his neck and arms jumped as every muscle in his body tensed with the anger he released into the yell. Stiles shook, but held his ground even when all else stepped back.
“Leave.” He panted when he finished his display.
Stiles watched as Jackson immediately scurried over to the only vehicle - Brenna’s Charger that would leave the three teen boys smushed together in the backseat - and having Scott follow reluctantly. He cast a look over his shoulder at Stiles, wondering why his friend wasn’t right on his tail to follow.
Brenna and Zane were already climbing into the car, a silent conversation seeming to pass between them with eye contact and miniscule facial tics. Brenna seemed to win as Zane sighed while sliding into his seat with one last glance back at Derek.
Stiles could hear Scott calling out to him, beckoning him to get in the car, but he couldn’t move. Derek turned his head to the side, eying him without turning to face him. The flare of his nostrils, his tense shoulders, curled fists, blue eyes… they were all meant to be menacing, but all Stiles could see was someone who had lost. Lost his family, his life, his shot at fixing everything when both Kate and Peter escaped. He couldn’t help but feel responsible. Kate had escaped after Brenna had opted to protect him and Peter had escaped after Stiles gave the Alpha the opportunity to slip away.
“Sorry.” Stiles muttered softly, hoping only Derek could pick up the barely audible word, before turning tail and running as best he could to the Charger.
Sandwiched against the door and Scott’s side, Stiles began to feel the effects of the day. Two car crashes and a massive adrenaline crash were catching up quickly. “Please tell me we’re headed to the hospital.”
“I’m not having you bleed out on my leather.” Brenna responded drily, sending him a glare through the rear view mirror.
“Dude,” Scott said to get his hazy friend’s attention. “Your dad is going to kill you.”
Great.
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“I’m okay!” Stiles said for the hundredth time as his father herded him through the house. He had his arms out protectively like a parent would for a wobbly toddler taking their first steps. He loved his father, but it was annoying. “Nothing’s broken, nothing’s fractured, nothing’s whatever, I’m fine.”
“You have two bruised ribs and numerous cuts all over you! You are not fine, do not argue with me.” The Sheriff told him like it was the law that he wasn’t fine simply because he stated it. “I can’t lose…” He choked off his words, clearing his throat to cut off the sentence.
Stiles’ face softened as he looked at his dad. “It won’t happen again dad. I promise.”
“Damn right. You’re grounded for a month. Joyriding in the forest, are you deficient?” He looked like he was refraining from smacking his son upside the head, for which Stiles was grateful. After the anesthesia wore off from the stitches to his forehead, his head was throbbing with a killer migraine.
“I’m sorry!” He said for what felt like the umpteenth time since his father burst into the emergency room when Stiles was in the process of getting his stitches. Scott had been gagging in the corner - he could grow mutton chops and claws that could castrate him with one bad scratch, but couldn’t handle the sight of needle and thread being pushed through skin, imagine that - when the lawman had started shouting.
They’d come up with the story that Stiles and Jackson had been joyriding through the forest when a tire blew and the car flipped. It was pretty close to the truth if you ignored contributing factors like the spikes the Argents had lain in the road.
Stiles sat gingerly on his bed, his arm cradling his throbbing ribs protectively as the muscles twitched and stretched with every new movement. He bit his lip as he lay back slowly. “Pizza tonight?” He asked his father as the man fluffed his son’s pillows almost uncomfortably.
“Actually, I have to go in…” He cut himself off, looking down at his bruised and battered son. “You know what? Pizza sounds good. Sausage sound okay to you?”
“As long as you promise to skip the donuts tomorrow. You know what your doctor said.” Stiles drawled lazily out of habitual concern for his father’s cholesterol levels.
“And you know what yours said. Shut up and go to sleep.”
“Actually, I think it was that I should rest and take it easy.”
“Start taking it easy with your mouth, smart aleck. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place, betting with that Whittemore kid you claim is… let me get this right, ‘the spawn of the Devil and Joan Rivers, both equally terrifying’.” He clucked his tongue with a shake of his head, tossing the comforter over his listless boy. If his mother were alive to see this… the thought trailed off in his head as he looked down to see Stiles dozing, much thanks to the adrenaline crash and Vicodin combination of the day. Fact of the matter was if Nattie was alive, none of this would be happening. Things would be drastically different.
With one last look back at his son, he thanked whatever was out there that his boy was safe, and left to give Stiles some peace.
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“Zane owes me big for talking me into coming.” Brenna muttered as she looked around at the wreckage caused by the SUV parked in his living room. She was still favoring her stomach and right arm, not completely healed, and spat out blood as her lung attempted to repair the nick from the arrowhead. “The last thing I needed was another Alpha hunting my ass.”
“There’s the door. You can get out now.” Derek growled. He and Brenna had never gotten along which made their situation difficult. But Laura had a soft spot for the woman, so when she saved her, she offered Brenna a spot in her pack. A place to belong, a home. He sneered internally at the thought. But with Laura gone, that meant nothing anymore. Now they were just fractured.
“You’re playing with fire, Hale.” She didn’t apologize for the word choice when Derek tensed and they both knew she didn’t care. “I know your game here. You might have everyone else fooled, but I know what you’re after.”
Derek got straight into her face, staring at the unflinching woman. That would change one day. One day she wouldn’t be able to talk to him like he was nothing. Wouldn’t even be allowed to look him in the eyes without permission. “Get out.” He enunciated the two words with deadly promise. A promise that said he was healed better than she and could take her down.
She conceded, stepping back with an air of indifference. He could smell her amusement. “You know why we hate each other so much?” She smirked when he rolled his eyes with a harsh sigh and turned away. “Because we’re too alike in many aspects. We want revenge, we want to kill the people that hurt us, and we want our families back even though we can never have them. We’ll trample over anyone that gets us that. We know where we’re weak because of that.”
He tried not to show that she was right, tried to regulate his heart and breathing so that she couldn’t tell. Though he also hated her just because he did. It was as simple as that. He hadn’t been able to stand the woman from the moment they met.
“I’m not blind to you like Laura was. I know your long-term goal, which is where our similarities end. You want to be the Alpha. You wanted it before Laura was even dead, but you couldn’t bring yourself to kill your last immediate relative. And you knew me and Zane would take you down before you could even get within fifty feet of her to try it.” Her eyes glowed in her rising anger, “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. If I can’t stop that from happening and you do become Alpha, I will never bow to you and Zane will follow me. And once Scott knows you’re lying to him about a cure, you can guarantee he won’t be there for you either.”
Derek watched with clenched fists as she walked away. He listened to every foot fall from her as she left calmly, his rage building with every second until she was out of range. First he’d kill Peter to avenge his sister and become Alpha, and then he’d take care of Brenna.
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Chapter Eight
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This chapter was quite possibly a bigger pain in the ass to write then the last one. Four rewrites later, and this is the crap I give you! Sorry. It’s been a fairly horrific week. Unfortunately, this reflects it. And I’d like to say that the end bit is canon-ish. Jeff Davis said in an interview that it’s been Derek’s goal all along to become Alpha. I’m still trying to mesh canon as much as I possibly can into this, while making it my own verse.
The next chapter/epilogue will definitely be up within the next week because then I need to start on the main story. I’m so into my verse right now, lol. I’ve actually planned it that it’ll be at least 4 stories. I hope you all like it enough to stick with it. Have a good weekend!