A/N: Hey guys, so, my life is a stressful, upsetting MESS, hence the slow updates. But I'm trying lmao. You know what would make me feel so much better? If you'd go read my new boy x boy story 'How to Fix a Mechanic' â¤ï¸â¤ï¸â¤ï¸
DEREK
Adrenaline burned through Derek's veins as he, Dean and Castiel stalked their target closer and closer to the potential location of the thing they missed most. The tension weighed heavy in the air, Derek was so near to having his mate back with him where he belonged.
After what felt like hours of prowling through the foliage, they reached some kind of rural house. It was worn with age, parts of the roof fallen through and the walls had been claimed by nature. The group edged closer and closer, tossing glances at each other. They watched as Peter dragged himself through the front door, apparently still unaware of their presence.
Derek raised a hand, then pointed forward in the direction of the house. Dean and Castiel drew their weapons and Derek bore his teeth, but the second he took a step in the direction of the house, a scent that caused his heart to beat erratically hit his nose; Stiles.
Before he could form rational thoughts, he shot towards the building and burst through the door, to hell with the plan.
"Derek?!" He heard Dean yell behind him, but he didn't care. All that his mind could process was Stiles. Half turned and bordering on a full transformation, he shot past Peter who was braced for attack. Yelling ensued as Dean and Castiel presumably attacked Peter.
Derek sniffed high and low until he came to a door, he broke it down but his haste punished him severely. Something swung down from the ceiling, smacking him straight in the face. The last thing he remembered was tumbling down a set of stairs.
*
DEAN
"Derek?!" Dean yelled after the werewolf. What had happened to organisation? He and Castiel ran inside the doorway that had been left clear thanks to Derek's not-so-subtle entrance. They were met by the man they'd been following, he was grinning maniacally and flashing sharp teeth at them. The pair drew their weapons, pointing them at Peter.
"You think those will work against me? This was a witch's house. Spells everywhere." The man laughed.
Dean shot Castiel a worried look, was he bluffing? Dean attempted to fire a wolfsbane bullet at the pathetic excuse for a human being standing before them. The bang resounded in the hallway, but the second the bullet left the barrel, it disintegrated.
"Son of a bitch." Dean snapped, tossing the gun to one side and unsheathing his wolfsbane laced knife. There was an apparent theme in their choice of weapons that night.
Castiel did the same, drawing his own dagger and assuming a fighting stance. Just as they were about to launch an attack, there was a loud bang and a series of thuds that came from the direction Derek had disappeared in.
"God damn-" Dean growled but was interrupted by a werewolf flying at him, claws bared.
He fell backwards out the front door, trying to make strategic stabs as he wrestled to get the creature off him. Thankfully, Castiel came to his rescue, pulling the furry man off of him. Dean stood one side of Peter while Castiel took the other, akin to a twisted game of piggy in the middle. Derek flashed Cas a look to indicate he'd strike first, he lunged forward, knife ready to break the skin of the enemy, but his attack was readily received.
Peter whipped round and delivered a lethal punch to Dean's stomach, winding him. The shock caused him to drop his knife and his legs to buckle. Peter cackled hysterically, picking the weapon up and twirling it between his fingers.
"Thank you!" He smiled snarkily, his tone bathed in sarcasm.
"Fuck you." Dean wheezed, scrambling backwards in a desperate attempt to escape the impending danger.
He spotted Cas jumping to his defence but Peter simply dove out of the way, rolling with surprising skill towards Dean. Before he could even process the two simple moves that were about to lead to a potentially lethal injury, Peter had sunk the knife deep into his leg. He screamed in pain, clutching his leg tightly trying in vain to stop the fast flow of blood that pooled beneath him.
He tried to keep an eye on Castiel who duelled with Peter, fury clouding over his husband's eyes, but his vision was becoming hazy.
"Ca- Castie..." Dean tried to call out to him, but his strength was flowing out of his body with his blood. The sounds around him became muffled as if he were wearing a headset, and black spots dotted across his vision.
Within seconds, Dean was out cold and losing blood, fast.
*
DEREK
When Derek awoke, he was bathed in complete blackness. The first thing he noticed in his groggy state was that the entire room reeked of Stiles and a slow heartbeat was audible. He stopped, straining his superior eyesight to see in the pitch black.
"Who's there?" A weak, but recognisable voice sounded from the far left corner of the room.
He staggered up from the icy cold floor, stumbling over to the hunched up figure that was his mate.
"Stiles, it's me. I'm here. I'm here." Derek reassured the shivering boy, cradling him in his arms.
"Thank god, I was beginning worry a giant possum got in here." Stiles chuckled weakly.
Derek nearly burst into tears, only Stiles could crack a joke at a time like this. He nuzzled his nose into his mate's neck, inhaling deeply.
"I missed you so much." He murmured, his voice cracking. Stiles was trembling, his chest heaving in and out as he cried in relief.
"I knew it was only a matter of time." He sniffed, Derek could make out his smile in the dark.
"How long was I out?"
"I'm not sure, maybe half an hour?" Stiles answered, his voice trembling.
"Shit." Derek muttered, he knew he had to move fast, despite the awful pounding in his head. He dreaded to think what the situation was like upstairs, but he knew he had to face it whatever it was. Confidence burned in his chest, ignited by being reunited with his mate.
"C'mon, let's go home." Derek scooped him up and ran back up the stairs, his ears now tuned in to the sounds of fighting. He carried Stiles with ease through the corridor that ran through the middle of the house and out the door. The fight had moved outside, and Castiel was wrestling with Peter on the ground. Derek scouted around for Dean and spotted him on the ground, motionless.
"Castiel!" Derek shouted over the racket of the brawl.
"Take him home! I can take care of this!" Castiel yelled back. "I love you Stiles and we'll see you later!"
"Pa!" Stiles cried out, Derek heard his mate's heartbeat racing with worry. Despite Stiles' protests, Derek ran at lightening speed through the forest until they were around a mile away from the Hale house.
"Derek we have to do something! Why was dad not moving? We can't just leave them!" Stiles panicked, but Derek ignored him. What he was most concerned about, was getting Stiles into a warm bed with water and food. He knew Castiel could hold his own against Peter, and he'd send Isaac down to help the second he got inside.
Stiles was now struggling and fighting in Derek's arms with surprising strength but Derek simply continued until his house was in view. He kicked open the door, knowing his mom would have something to say about it later. He took Stiles to the living room where he found a makeshift hospital.
Jackson was sprawled across the sofa unconscious as Danny fussed around him and Scott was slumped on an armchair, looking worse for wear. The second he spotted Stiles he moved to get up, but Isaac forced him back down.
"Is everyone okay aside from the obvious?" Derek asked the room, everyone nodded apart from Jackson, for obvious reasons.
"Good. Isaac, I need you out there helping Castiel. Go back to where we were, then follow the sounds of him beating the shit out of Peter." He ordered, Isaac glanced at Scott but rushed out at top speed. "Danny, are you okay down here with these two?" Danny nodded, his face pale with worry. "I'll be upstairs with Stiles if you need me."
In no time at all, Derek had Stiles tucked into his bed and was bringing him a glass of water. Stiles' expression was wracked with worry and his hands shook as he took the glass. It was only at that moment that Derek really took in his boyfriend's appearance. His skin was paler than before, dark bags hung under his eyes. His hair was knotty and had a greasy sheen to it. It made Derek furious and want to kill Peter, but Stiles needed him.
Once Stiles was done sipping the water, Derek set it on the bedside table for him. He slid under the duvet and held Stiles's lithe body close to his own, whispering comforting things in his ear. He stroked the teen's face gently and traced circles on his arms until his breathing steadied and his eyes fluttered closed. Derek felt a lot less tense now he had Stiles, safe and asleep in his arms, even though the danger hadn't even passed completely. It would do for now.
*
ISAAC
"I will make you feel extreme amounts of pain!" Isaac heard a voice in the distance that was unmistakably Stiles' slightly more eccentric father. Not that they weren't both questionably insane. His feet pounded the ground as he approached, the sounds growing ever louder. When the three figures came into view, it wasn't a promising sight.
Despite being considerably injured, Peter was still holding his own in the fight, both men covered in blood, cuts and angry red bumps. Isaac glanced over at Dean who was still on the ground, unconscious apparently. He rushed over to him and shook him by the shoulders, no response. He hesitated, holding his breath, then slapped the man across the face. He still didn't wake up.
"What happened to him?" Isaac yelled over to Castiel who was in the middle of punching Peter repeatedly in the jaw.
"He was stabbed in the leg, he's losing blood. You must get him to a hospital." Castiel explained breathlessly, occasionally pausing to get a hit in. Isaac nodded, more to himself than anyone and grabbed Dean by the arms and hauled him over his shoulder.
Just as he was leaving, there was a horrific cracking sound and a loud, animalistic wail. Isaac didn't look back, and began running for Dean's life.