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Derek Hale's Pack


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Stiles and Derek discuss the incident where he was bitten by a werewolf.

Type:

Archived Log

Emitter:

N/A

Location:

Derek Hale's Loft, Beacon Hills


It's been way longer than Stiles wanted.

The thing was, he got back and stuff was just so intense. Ainsley needed his help, and Jason's needed his help, and--he doesn't even know what the hell is up with Scott lately, who's been busy with... whatever True Alphas do. Scott had never shown up in La Push, which worried Stiles a bit, but he couldn't think about that right now.

Right now, he's walking into the wolf's den.

The Jeep is left parked outside, and Stiles takes the stairs up to Derek's loft. When he reaches the big sliding door, he hesitates, considers, and then he both knocks and starts to open it on his own. As he begins to step through, he calls out just in case, "Derek? Are you home?"

Derek is just...right there. He reaches out, grabs Stiles by the wrist, and pulls him close. "No running." He leans close to his face, taking in a deep breath through his nose. "No playing with your phone. No ignoring. We're gonna talk. So go use the bathroom, just in case." Then Stiles is brushed along in that direction. Derek goes to the couch and sits quietly down.

Stiles nearly pees his pants right there, just so startled by Derek's sudden appearance and, well, Derek-ness. He takes a moment to swallow, nod, and take a deep breath... and then he all but scurries off to the restroom before he even thinks to argue. And then it's like, hey, why not just cooperate? So, a few moments later, after the sounds of various plumbing associated with relieving oneself and the washing of hands, Stiles returns. After a moment of uncertainty, he goes to sit beside Derek on the couch.

And his mind goes completely blank.

It takes him a few seconds, but then he manages lamely, idly tapping his palms against his thighs while his feet bounce against the floor, "So, uh. I guess you know what happened on the way up north." He can't help not holding still. He feels suddenly tremendously jittery.

"I want you to tell me everything. Start from the beginning." Derek leans closer. His skin is hot, his breath hot, his eyes intense, and they're flared in that way he does, with his thick brows dipping together in a mild but definite frown. "Everything."

Stopping his mental train of thought, Stiles nods carefully and says, "Suuurrre," dragging out the vowel and the "R" sound. "Well, I had something I needed to bring to Jason up in La Push. Scott and I were going to go up anyway to kind of see what he's doing up there, with the twins and... just, everything. Then Scott couldn't come, and he was supposed to meet me--I dunno what happened with that, really, I've actually been kind of worried about--" He cuts off, sighs, and gets back to the point.

"So I drove up by myself. And I... didn't tell anyone... because I had this idea that I was proving to everyone that I didn't need to be protected and that I was just as much a part of the packs, and... all that." He frowns, but he continues, "Up in Oregon, I stopped a gas station, but it was closed and... well, this werewolf pounced me and bit me, on the shoulder, like... really bad."

"It sucked," Stiles admits, shrugging slightly, "but when I woke up, Lance was there. It's all... kind of weird, the way I remember it, but he made sure I was okay. And then we drove up to La Push together, and he stayed close the whole time. I met with Jason--and he freaked out a little, but in a really weirdly protective way." He shakes his head some. "I didn't think he cared, but he seemed honestly really worried that I was... y'know, bit bit." He blows out a sharp exhale through his lips, fingers tapping against his knees. "Then, when it didn't look like I was changing, he sent me back. So Lance and I drove back. And I wanted to talk to you right away, but... the stuff with Ainsley was more important. She needed you to be her alpha, and I didn't want to interrupt it. But now that things are quieter..." and he just trails off, since it brings them up to present.

Derek stays silent for a time, letting it all sink in. He breathes slowly, forces himself to keep it slow, and when he speaks, he's finally done clenching his teeth. It's far past that time. "What...in the hell...were you even thinking. No...you weren't thinking." His tone is even, but it's very much forced to be so. He's barely holding onto this emotion. "I need to find whoever this wolf is that attacked you."

"Lance said something about tracking him," Stiles explains. "So you guys could probably find him pretty easily." He doesn't argue with Derek about the thinking issue. He did thing, just... he thought about all the wrong things. And he clearly, visibly feels extremely guilty about it. This may even explain his odd behavior ever since he returned: He's clearly been quite plagued by those guilty feelings. As much as he's freaked out right now, he's also clearly glad to be coming clean to Derek.

"I'm calling him soon. But first..." Derek looks like he might do something crazy. It's hard to read his expression. It's really hard to tell what he might or might not do; but then, Stiles does know him. Stiles would know he's not that dangerous around him. Even though one moment he's sitting where he is, and the next moment he's got his arms squeezed around Stiles tightly. "Don't ever do something that stupid again."

Stiles hugs back tight, burying his face against Derek's shoulder, and says, "I won't. I promise. I know, I should have told you, and I should have called, and--I basically did everything wrong. I'm... I'm so sorry." He has to say it. The words sound almost cheesy, saccharine, in his ears, but he speaks them with sincerity anyway. How can an apology mean anything after something like this? But not giving one would be even worse.

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