I love all of you. All the creeping readers who don't review but have followed and favorited this story, all the people who took the time to leave a review, every one of you. Thank you for making this story a treat to share. I sincerely hope you enjoy this ending to Red Wolf, Werewolf.

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Chapter Four

For the first two days after the full moon, his phone was constantly barraged with calls and texts from Stiles. Derek ignored every single one. The ones he did look at were continuous apologies. On the third day the texts became 'Please pick up your phone' and 'I swear I can explain.' And every evening for a week, the red wolf howled all night.

"Derek, you need to talk to him," Laura told him after a week, sounding as if she were disappointed in him. "He's been coming by the library every day just to ask me about you."

"And me, both before and after class," Cora chipped in.

"Why?" Derek spat back. "He's known we're the same for months but hid it from us. He's a liar."

Laura lifted an eyebrow at him. "He spent the entire semester asking his professor how to do illegal things without being illegal and he's a writer who has been coming up with fake backgrounds for you for months. Does it really surprise you that he's good at keeping a few secrets?"

No. It didn't. That was part of the problem. Derek had known Stiles was good at lying from the moment he met the guy, when he spun a story about wrecking his Jeep instead of being attacked by hunters.

"Well I guess this explains why hunters would attack his Jeep," Derek changed the subject a bit.

Cora glared. "That's why you need to talk to him," she said sharply. "The more howling that idiot does, the more suspicious the hunters are going to get. There aren't any wild wolves anywhere near Beacon Hills but the forest is full of howling. You've got to make him stop."

Derek glared. "Why me?" he growled. "Why not Laura? She's the alpha. She can order him to stop and he'll listen. Why do I have to do it?"

Laura ran a hand through her hair. "I can order him to stop, but my alpha abilities will do nothing to compel him to listen." When she got curious looks from both her siblings, she continued. "He's not a werewolf."

A derisive snort. "Laura, I watched him transform."

She shot him a short glare. "He's not human, it's true. But he's not a werewolf. We would've known if he were, smelled it on him. His scent changes along with his body. He can become a wolf at any time of the month. Plus he's small and as weak as any normal wolf. He's different. I don't know what he is, but he won't listen to me just because I tell him to."

When she continued to stare at him, Derek crossed his arms.

"And that means I have to go talk to him?" he asked, knowing he sounded petulant and not caring. "He's been lying to me, Laura. I don't owe him anything. I don't have to let him explain."

She kept looking at him. "No. No you don't. And if you want to ignore him for the rest of your life, you can do that. After you talk to him." Derek opened his mouth but she held up her hand to silence him before he could make a sound. "For the sake of your pack, Derek. He's going to bring danger upon us if he keeps this up, not to mention what he's doing to himself."

The familiar worry for Stiles made an appearance then. From the moment he'd met the guy, Derek had cared what happened to Stiles. He didn't want anyone to hurt him or cause him trouble. He was equally as protective of the red wolf. He was angry at Stiles, but that need to protect hadn't diminished at all. He didn't want Stiles to be killed by hunters, or worse, tortured. If he could get Stiles to stop causing a ruckus every night, Derek could make a clean break. He wouldn't worry that Stiles was captured by hunters and he could also avoid Stiles blowing up his phone trying to get in contact with him.

With an aggravated sigh, Derek said, "Fine. Fine. I'll talk to him tomorrow. Happy?"

Laura frowned. "No. But it'll do."

...

...

Derek sent Stiles a text the next morning, just a simple 'The library at 5:30.' Surprisingly, Stiles didn't jump to respond. In fact, he didn't reply all day. When Derek got there after work, 5:30 on the dot, Laura nodded to him in greeting. Derek sniffed discreetly, but Stiles wasn't anywhere in the library yet. When Laura was done helping out some library visitors at the front desk, she waved Derek over.

"Have you talked to Stiles?" Laura asked in a quiet voice.

Derek shook his head. "I asked him to meet me here at five thirty."

Now Laura's eyes drifted to the computer clock next to her and her lips pulled down. "It's five thirty-four."

"What's your point?"

She graced Derek with a look that spoke volumes about her thoughts on his intelligence. "Derek, he's been texting you pretty much nonstop since he outed himself to you. He's been at the library almost daily asking about you. He even bugs Cora, knowing she dislikes him. If you told him to be here at five thirty, he would've been here at five."

Derek shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "He has class until five."

"He would've left early if not skipped it altogether," Laura persisted. "Try calling him. If he doesn't answer your call, then we know something's wrong."

He didn't want to call Stiles. He was still ticked at Stiles for lying to him for over two months. Derek hadn't told Stiles about being a werewolf, but that was because he thought Stiles was human. Stiles obviously knew that Derek wasn't human and yet he still kept his mouth shut. Amazing, considering he was practically incapable of keeping his mouth shut otherwise. Stiles had been the two people closest to Derek outside of his own family but he hadn't thought Derek deserved to know that. He hadn't thought to talk to Derek about the fact that there were hunters in town, or explain why they had bashed in his Jeep or-

There were hunters in town and they had bashed in Stiles' Jeep.

"Shit." Derek whipped his phone out and dialed Stiles, then put the phone to his ear and listened to it ring.

Every consecutive ring put Derek more and more on edge. Because Laura was right, Stiles had been making an annoying racket for the last week trying to get in contact with Derek and he should have been here, he should have picked up immediately.

"Hello, esteemed caller! It seems you just missed me," Stiles voice half-sang. "You know the deal. Name, number, reason for calling. Sorry to say, without that I won't even bother calling you back. JUST KIDDING SCOTT. Everyone else, I am so serious."

Derek hung up before it could record a message and growled. Laura's eyes were narrowed.

"I'll call for someone to take my shift," she said before disappearing into the back room.

Stiles had been on these peoples' radar for months. He had probably been on the lookout for them for longer than Derek had known him. That was why the wolf had been near the power plant that day, and why it had led Derek away. Stiles had known those men were hunters. He'd known there were hunters already aware of a supernatural presence in Beacon Hills and yet that idiot had sat around howling for-

Derek shut his eyes. He forced himself to put his phone in his pocket before he could break it from squeezing it too tight. If Stiles was hurt or worse, it would be Derek's fault. If he had only answered the phone one of the hundreds of times Stiles tried to reach out. If he hadn't run away the night of the full moon. And if Stiles was dead, Derek didn't know what he would do - to those responsible or to himself.

A hand on his arm jerked Derek out of his thoughts and he locked eyes with Laura, the frown deep on her face. "Let's go find him."

Derek didn't need that to be an order to follow it.

...

...

Cora found Stiles' Jeep parked on the side of a back road that came close to Hale property. At first she had been confused because Stiles' scent was only in the Jeep, then remembered that his scent changed when he became a wolf, and the red wolf's scent was all over. So was the smell of unfamiliar humans.

They traced the scents back toward the power plant but stopped at the fork in the road, as usual. Laura laid out a plan. They weren't sure if the hunters were based inside the plant or just very close to it, so initially they would split up and approach from different directions, just three separate people out for hikes in the woods. If they found something, they would text each other so that they could take on the hunters as one stronger force. If it looked too dangerous, get out and wait for help.

Which is how Derek found himself coming up on the power plant near its back side. At first it was simply another area of the woods and Derek marched unhappily but quietly through the underbrush. Then he saw an oddly snapped branch on a plant and stopped to fully take in his surroundings.

He could see where footprints had been mostly removed from the dirt of the forest floor. He could smell the faint hint of gunpowder and metal and wolfsbane, old in the air but recurring frequently. Hunters often underestimated a werewolf's senses, usually comparing it to their own - even if only subconsciously. Following the scent was easiest, but Derek also kept an eye on the ground for the footprints and the trees for hidden cameras or weapons.

Just as he came up to the property line for the power plant, the footprints stopped entirely. It was too sudden a loss to simply be that they had fully covered their tracks, so Derek started lightly kicking leaves and dirt around on the ground. As expected, he found a hidden door. He shot off a quick text to Laura and Cora and then knelt down to inspect the door.

It was small, easier to hide under leaves and dirt but also meant that only one maybe two hunters would be able to get through it at a time. If there was to be a fight, that would work in the pack's favor. He felt around for the edges of the door and found two small indents, one on either side of the door. Those must be the handles, in place of anything metal or otherwise obvious as a handle.

Experimentally, Derek slipped his fingers into the small slots and lifted the door. To the hunters' credit, it opened silently. The scent that reached Derek's nose made every muscle in his body tense. Ash. Wolfsbane. Panic. Sweat. Metal. Gunpowder. Blood. Singed fur. The red wolf. Stiles.

Without a second thought to his sisters or the danger, Derek slid through the door and let it fall soundlessly shut. There was enough light for Derek's eyes to see by, even without making them glow. He crept down the stairs to the floor and looked around. The first room had a door on either side of it and a few crates that smelled like ash and monkshood. Of course they wouldn't leave anything too incriminating in the first room, just in case someone found this place.

The door to the left was open and light was seeping into the room. Derek crept over to it and glanced into the area beyond. It was a hallway. There were no cameras that Derek could see, no hunters. He didn't smell anyone hiding nearby. He could hear something though. The creak of a metal chair, faint but desperate panting, a kick of a metal toed boot to wood, metal being sharpened.

His footsteps were almost as silent as the door to get in here as he hurried down the hall. There were lights in the ceiling above him, illuminating the area so that there was no way of hiding in the shadows if someone came out of one of the rooms branching off from the hallway. Following his ears and his nose, Derek stopped at the third, and last, door on the right.

"Alright," he heard through the wood. It was a whiney voiced man speaking. "We're making good time."

"I'm amazed it's lasted this long," a woman responded, and the metal chair creaked.

The man made a noise of agreement. "Not a very good healer, this one. But it's still a beast so we test it for limitations and then kill it."

The woman let out a sigh and it sounded like she stood up from the chair. "Alright then, it's my turn. And this time I think we'll up the dosage, see how much more it can ingest before it passes out."

"No."

It was a faint, plaintive plea that barely sounded through the door, but Derek recognized the voice immediately. Derek shoved his way through the door, barely taking the time to turn the handle instead of just plowing through. He was already shifted into his beta form by the time his eyes landed on the two hunters in the room. One was a twig of a man standing at a table with pouches, jars, and weapons on it. The other was older, a woman holding a gleaming knife in one hand and a bottle of powder in the other, standing in front of Stiles.

Stiles was sitting sprawled out along the far wall, hands and feet bound by rope and chain. His hands were hoisted up and pinned to the wall over his head while his feet were individually shackled and with enough chain leeway that he could choose to either hold his feet together or spread them a foot apart. His jeans were stained with grass and dirt and the dark rust of blood, with tears all over. His t-shirt was no better off. There was a faint sprinkling of red and brown fur around where Stiles was sitting, and the skin around his wrists and bare ankles was a mix of shades of red and black. He had a black eye, bruised chin, and a split lip. Derek would have sworn he suddenly became an alpha by how the world turned red.

The woman's knife landed in Derek's shoulder as he lunged forward but he barely noticed. She was on the ground in two seconds flat and struggling to keep his hands and teeth off her, and failing. There was a slash across her midriff and a cut on her face before Derek registered the stomping of several pairs of feet and then suddenly there was an arrow alongside the knife. Derek stumbled away from the woman with a yowl but made sure to put himself between Stiles and the hunters. There were six of them now, four more crowding in from the hallway.

"Come to save it?" an older man with graying hair and holding a crossbow asked. "I'm not sure you should. It's a defective model."

Derek growled and bared his fangs. Stiles wasn't defective! He was just different! These hunters were treating Stiles like a werewolf when he wasn't one. That was the problem. Not Stiles.

"Maybe defective by your standards, but not by ours," a surprisingly calm Laura stated.

The hunters shifted to look back at the door, where Laura was holding one of their men up by the neck without looking at him, his eyes already rolling back in his head. They were both shifted and looked angry. Laura was letting her eyes glow red - an intimidation tactic. She nodded at Derek and he didn't have to ask what she meant. There were only four hunters capable of fighting and she and Cora could take them.

Derek reached up and pulled the knife from his shoulder with a soft groan. The movement drew just enough attention away from his sisters that Cora landed the first blow and started the fighting. Meanwhile, Derek moved to Stiles' side and grabbed his tied wrists. The instant zing made him snap his hand back, glaring at the ropes. Wolfsbane, he should have guessed. Using the knife, Derek carefully but quickly sliced the ropes off his wrists and ankles.

Another arrow made its home in Derek's back but he'd barely turned to snarl at whomever had let it fly before he saw Laura take the man down. So Derek ripped the arrow out and focused on Stiles again, grabbing the chains that held him to the wall and pulling hard. By the time the metal began to crack open, the room was quiet behind him.

"Hey, smarty," Cora said, kneeling on Stiles' other side. She held up her right hand and showed him the metal inside it. "How about we just use the key?"

Derek glared at her the entire time she was unlocking the manacles. Laura called Cora over to help her tie the hunters up, since his alpha was amazing at fighting without killing anyone, and Derek was left with Stiles again.

He placed his hands on either side of Stiles' face and lifted it from where it was listing against his chest. It took him repeating Stiles' name three times before the younger man's eyes focused on him. The relief that spread through Derek when Stiles grinned at him completely overran any anger he'd been holding on to.

"Fanservice," Stiles murmured, voice weak but happy. Little grin still in place and eyes never leaving Derek's, he said, "I need a hospital."

...

...

Getting Stiles to the hospital was weird for Derek, who had never spent much time with doctors before. Surrounded by werewolves or humans who lived with werewolves, there had never been a need. Given that Stiles wasn't human, taking him to the doctor sounded ludicrous, but he insisted. Talking seemed to make his health deteriorate before their eyes, but Stiles managed to explain that his best friend's mom would know what to do and to ask for Melissa McCall once they arrived.

The nurse who appeared when they repeated the name at the hospital was a slight woman with dark hair and a worried expression. Completely human as far as Derek could tell. Then again, Stiles had seemed human too.

"What's wrong with him?" she asked, already looking Stiles over. Derek had Stiles' arm over his shoulder and his own arm wrapped around Stiles' waist, with most of Stiles' weight resting on him rather than the ground. Laura was on his other side and mirroring Derek.

"Hey Ms. Mom," Stiles slurred out, managing to lift his head and smile at her. He quickly lowered his head again, looking like he was going to be sick.

Laura took control. "He was fed poison and tortured," she said. "My sister is already calling the police on the people responsible, but Stiles needs medical attention."

In an instant, Melissa McCall took charge. The worry bled from her face and she was ordering people around and getting medicines and bandages and things Derek didn't even know what they were prepared. Other nurses came and helped Ms. McCall get Stiles onto a gurney and rolled away, leaving Derek and Laura to wait in uncomfortable chairs for Cora to finish with the police and for Ms. McCall to return with news.

...

...

The Hale family didn't get to visit Stiles while he was in the hospital. The police wanted statements on the incident from all three of them and they had to make sure their stories matched. And because Stiles was the son of the sheriff, the process seemed both faster and longer than usual. It wasn't just the sheriff that seemed irritated and worried though. It was the entire police department, everyone scurrying around trying to be helpful and throwing scathing looks at the door to the cells whenever they passed by.

"You picked a winner, Der," Cora whispered sarcastically. "We're gonna have cops keeping tabs on us from now until forever."

"That just means we be careful," Laura answered for him quietly. "Especially until Stiles is feeling better. It's nothing we haven't done before. Don't do anything suspicious and no one should look too close."

The hunters were shipped off - to prison or jail and on what charges, Derek didn't know and didn't care as long as they were gone - with speed and efficiency. But Stiles was restricted to family visits only, probably at the sheriff's insistence, so none of the Hales could get anywhere near Stiles to check on him.

Four days later, Stiles was home from the hospital but Derek still didn't see him. His dad had taken off work to stay home with Stiles until his son was able to take care of himself. Derek found out from Laura, who had called the hospital to check up, that Stiles had two bruised ribs, a lot of bruises and cuts all over, minor burns, and poisoning that had needed immediate care.

Within a week after Stiles was released, Derek was coming out of his skin. He ran every morning and worked out in the evening, shifted to beta form and ran at night. He did all the hardest work at the shop, trying to use up energy and stop the jittery feeling in his muscles. It wasn't helping. The longer he couldn't check on Stiles, talk to him, the worse he got.

Ironic that only a week and a half ago he'd been cursing Stiles and refusing to speak to him ever again.

...

...

The next time Derek didn't have work, Laura packed him in the car and drove through town like they were going shopping. Then she stopped in front of the Stilinski house, kicked him out, and peeled off before he could say a word. The noise made Sheriff Stilinski come outside to investigate and he paused in the doorway when he saw Derek.

Crossing his arms over his chest, the older male said, "I guess I was just wondering how long it would take for you to show up."

"Sir?" Derek asked while he was waved inside. He was expecting Derek?

"My son is capable of many things, but keeping his mouth shut isn't one of them," the sheriff said. "I was worried he would spend another ten years pining before asking you out, like with his last crush, but he surprised me." He grinned and Derek could see Stiles in him. "I think Scott nearly tried to kill him for talking about you so much. I've never heard him mooning over someone while throwing virtual grenades and gunfire."

Scott. Stiles' best friend Scott. Maybe Derek should meet this kid someday.

"But I assume you're here for my miscreant and not to listen to me talk." He pointed to the stairs. "First door on the left. Try not to let him get up. He's still healing but keeps wanting to go run a marathon." Derek barely had one foot on the stairs before the sheriff said, "Oh, and tell him he can take that ice off now."

As they parted ways, Derek heard him muttering about eyebrows under his breath but didn't stop to question it. Some things are better left unknown. And there were more important things to focus on.

Stiles' bedroom door was ajar and from there Derek could see Stiles lying in bed with a handheld game system, all his attention focused on the small screen. He was wearing lounge pants and a baggy shirt, and besides a few bandages on his arms and the remnants of his black eye, Stiles looked like nothing had ever happened. He smelled like medicine and ointment though, proving he was still recovering.

"Your dad says you can take the ice off."

Stiles jumped so bad he dropped his game. They both winced as it bounced off his chest, though Stiles' was accompanied by a groan and whispered curse.

"Dude. Warning," he hissed out, face pinched as he refrained from touching his chest.

"Sorry."

With a shake of his head, Stiles reached up under his shirt and pulled out a cold pack, tossing it onto the floor at the side of his bed. He sat up and looked up at Derek, nervousness hiding in his eyes and the way his heart skipped.

"I wasn't expecting you to come visit," Stiles noted.

Derek wasn't sure how to respond to that since he hadn't actually intended to come over. He had sort of been waiting for Stiles to reach out to him again first.

"What are you?" Derek asked before he could really think about it. "You're not a werewolf, but you're not human."

Stiles ran a hand through his hair and cast his eyes down to his knee. "Uh...See, I don't really know the answer to that." He held his hands up before Derek could say anything. "You're right. I'm not normal. I just...it started happening when I turned thirteen. I was running around the woods with Scott one day and then suddenly I was a wolf instead of a boy."

Derek pushed the door almost completely shut and then moved closer to the bed, but not all the way. "Does your dad know?"

A nod. "He said it came from my mom's family." He tilted his head to the side with a speculative look on his face. "People who had two selves."

As if a dam had opened, Stiles began to talk. He told Derek all about the first time he transformed in front of Scott. How his dad had found out because he had asked 'Do you feel any different now that you're a teenager?' and Stiles had a panic attack and changed and cried until his dad calmed him down enough to change back. How the wolf was Stiles and yet not, they were the same and yet different. How he was calmer and more agile as the red wolf, had sharper senses and more speed and strength, but no more than a normal wolf would have. He was either a normal human or a normal wolf, no special powers.

He explained how emotions and thoughts were different from one him to the next and tried to describe how he was split in two and yet whole at the same time. How he sometimes thought the wolf was the physical form of his spirit not trapped in his body, but sometimes he wasn't sure. He didn't know anyone else like him and had no one to ask about it.

He told Derek about the energy humming under his skin and how letting go and transforming was the only way to release it, a fond smile on his face as he described running as his second self. It was a feeling Derek could understand completely, knowing the wolf was right under his own skin and always begging to be released. But while his wolf was dangerous, Stiles' wolf just seemed to want to be.

"But you knew I was a wolf," Derek said and couldn't help the slight accusatory tone. "Why didn't you tell me all of this before?"

"I was going to tell you at three months," Stiles admitted with a faint flush high in his cheeks and unable to meet Derek's eyes. "I couldn't bring you home because I was worried dad may let something slip, and I couldn't introduce you to Scott because, I mean he's a great friend, but I know he would've let the cat out of the bag, irony notwithstanding. And I really like you and I wanted to share it with you but I've been hiding that part of me for almost a decade. It was hard working up the courage to just...come out. Which is weird for me because I've never had to come out to anyone before, for anything."

Derek shook his head and sat on the bed near Stiles. "I was going to tell you about werewolves at three months."

Stiles grinned. "Well now three months can be dinner with my dad, and probably Scott and his mom too since they're practically my family and they know about me too." The grin faded. "If...I mean...If we're still, you know, a thing."

Derek thought about it. He had been angry with Stiles because Stiles had kept a big secret from him, but they both had secret parts of themselves that they had been waiting to reveal. He'd been upset that Stiles had known about werewolves and still kept quiet. But if the tables had been flipped, how easy would it have been for Derek to admit he was a werewolf if Stiles had told him he had the ability to become a red wolf at will? He would've thought about the differences between them, how a werewolf was much more dangerous and uncontrollable. He would've held back. Derek didn't know what Stiles' reasoning was for keeping quiet after he knew they were both supernatural, but there was no doubt in his mind that the reasons were many.

Was there anything else he was upset with Stiles about? Not really. Sometimes he was too noisy or annoying, but those were also qualities that Derek enjoyed because they made up for his typical lack of conversational skills. And Stiles always made Derek feel like he could have a life again after the loss of his family. As both Stiles and the red wolf, Stiles had made Derek feel alive, leaving guilt and trouble behind, opening up room for happiness and hope. Was the initial anger over Stiles' secret worth giving up all the good that came with that secret?

He nodded. "Yes. We're still 'a thing'." And he proved it with a kiss.

...

...

Dinner with Stiles, the sheriff, Ms. McCall, and Scott was awkward but satisfying, and Derek got invited to Sunday dinner at the Stilinski house whenever he wanted. Melissa gave Stiles a checkup while she was there and Derek flashed his eyes at Scott, who reached for his inhaler.

Just before the next full moon, Cora came home with the bombshell that Malia was a werecoyote. Where Derek was confused, Laura just gave a smirk that showed she'd known all along. And really, life in Beacon Hills was becoming much more complicated than Derek had ever thought it could be, especially for such a small town. But that meant that, the night of the full moon, when the Hales let themselves become giant wolves to run around the woods out of sight of humans, their running pack was just a little bigger.

Malia was smaller than Stiles. Her body was covered in grey fur tinted white that made her look like fog, but with faint red socks and ears. The red wolf yipped joyfully at not being the smallest and he and Malia hit it off instantly, seeing who could make the most racket and catch the most squirrels and pulling on each other's tails.

Including Cora and Laura - and a coyote he barely knew - in his time with Stiles the wolf had been odd at first, but Derek was glad to not have to choose between the most important people in his life. Plus, watching Stiles nip at Cora's ears and then dart out of reach before she could retaliate was entertaining. The entire pack ran and played and howled at the moon and each other until just before dawn, when they collapsed in a tired pile on the outcropping of rock that overlooked the town.

Pack.

Laura would later talk to Derek and Cora about expanding the pack, being on the lookout around town for people who would be good candidates as wolves. A year after they arrived, Scott would be the first to volunteer. Others would follow. The Hale pack would never be as large as it had been before the fire, but it would grow to a decent size. There would be other threats from hunters, both professional and bumbling wannabes, that they would have to overcome together. And other mythical creatures would wander in from time to time and the Hale pack would handle them as well. But that was in the future. For now, Derek had his sisters, Malia, and Stiles.

For now, Derek was happy.

...

...

Fin.

...

...

A friend of mine made a graphic for this fic, but you'll have to go to AO3 to see it since doesn't support images in their stories. If you just search the fic name from the main page you should find it. The notes at the end of the fic on AO3 also includes links to reference pictures I used for the wolves.

Thank you for reading with me!