Title: Round and Round He Goes

Author: Blumvale

Word Count: 11,400 +/- hot damn! I don't even know where all these words came from

Rating: NC-17

Characters/Pairings: Scott/Stiles, Stiles/Derek (past), Boyd, Isaac, Sheriff Stilinski, Alan Deaton

Summary – Blood dripping from his face, his eyes red, Scott grinned maliciously. "I'm the Alpha now," he declared daring the betas to say anything. When Isaac cowered behind Boyd, who stayed silent, Scott turned away from his pack and stalked towards Stiles. Grabbing his friend's, still injured arm, Scott pulled Stiles flush against him. "You're mine."

Knowing it was futile to say otherwise, Stiles nodded. "Yes." Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew there was no life for him without Derek but this was about survival. "I'm yours."

This is for the 'Free Space' on my Trope Bingo card. I chose the trope 'Forced Marriage.' I never thought I'd write something quite like this.

Warnings –major character deaths; dark!Scott, dark!Stiles, mentions of panic attacks, allusions to non-con/dub-con, werewolf!Stiles

I'm setting this as an au. While the events of the show took place, for the sake of this story, it's set later, after they graduated college. But we're also ignoring Peter for the sake of this story and Erica… well she's just gone.

Disclaimer: I do not in any way shape or form own Teen Wolf or make a profit from this story. It'd be nice if I did, but I don't. ::major sad face::

And all errors are mine. If anyone would like to take a shot at betaing it, I'm all for it!

Sometimes, when Scott is out, Stiles goes to the large closet they share and searches for the red hoodie he keeps hidden in the back. He finds the familiar red fabric safely tucked between heavy winter sweaters and jackets he's long outgrown. He tried to keep Scott from getting rid of everything from before and leaving the clothes is one of the few things Scotts does for him. Though if he knew Stiles hugged the worn fabric to him and breathed it in, trying to catch a familiar whiff of his old Alpha, even though he just has a regular old human nose, then he was sure Scott would burn everything in a heartbeat. He wishes he had Derek's old leather jacket; he wishes for something that was truly Derek's. But those things were long gone, Scott saw to that. For hours that feel like mere minutes, Stiles on the closet floor and holds the old, well-worn sweatshirt remembering the days when he was happy.

-tw-

Allison had been Scott's anchor for so long; Stiles remembered how it had bordered on obsessive – how they had both revolved so completely around each other. But with the death of her aunt and then mother and the chaos that soon followed with Gerard, Allison had been unable to stay in Beacon Hills. She insisted she and her father leave after she dropped out of college. So, Chris had set up a, so far holding, truce between werewolves and hunters, leaving the town safe from at least human threats. (But the wolves of Beacon Hills had always been able to protect the town from other magical threats.)

With Allison gone, Scott had been unable to deal, wolfing out and threatening people at more than just the full moon, though that had been the worse time. Of course, Stiles had been there for his best friend, just liked he'd been there for Scott's parents divorce, 9 out of 10 asthma attacks, and his initial turning. Later, when Scott was in better control of himself, everyone assumed he'd just learned enough to keep himself centered. No one though his anchor had shifted to Stiles. For almost a year, no one had realized there was a problem with this new arrangement. That was, until Scott finally snapped.

-tw-

By March of Stiles' last year at college, Derek got his act together and asked the younger man on a proper date. They already hung out some on the weekends, but neither had really acknowledged the tension between them. There had been dinner and a movie and a tiny bit of handholding. Derek had even walked Stiles to his door when he dropped him off at the dorm. (Even though the school was only about half an hour from his home, Stiles and Scott had insisted on living in the dorms to get a fuller college experience.) They'd gotten around to kissing on their second date. Derek had gone in for a sweet peck on the lips but Stiles demanded a lot more than that. He ignored the hollering from the students sitting in the 'smoker's corner'. It hadn't been difficult for Derek to push the hecklers from his mind as well, not when he had Stiles pressed against him.

His son's prospective boyfriend hadn't pleased Stiles' father, but the Sheriff had caved when he realized how serious Stiles was for the older werewolf. It didn't help that his son was more than legal and could make decisions all on his own. (The Sherriff had been brought in on all the supernatural goings of Beacon Hills after the incident with the kanima.) And so long as they did nothing 'inappropriate' in front of him, then the Sheriff was willing to give Derek a clean slate. (And, he'd not been shy about keeping his loaded gun in sight when he'd asked Derek about his intentions. It may not have been packed with special wolfsbane bullets; but regular bullets still packed a punch.)

And so things had been fine, almost good, for the Hale pack. The Alpha pack had been sent away with their tails between their legs, another threat not immediately popping up, and the ensuing peace had been more then welcomed. When graduation rolled around, instead of moving back home, Scott and Stiles decided to share an apartment. (It had been Scott's idea) They found a two-bedroom apartment that was close to Deaton's clinic; Scott, still working for him, planned to eventually take over the business. And Stiles was working at a daycare in town and occasionally subbed at the high school. In his free time he took online classes for a Master's Degree in Education so that he could get a fulltime teaching position. He knew his relationship was still way to new to even fantasize about the idea of living with Derek.

Stiles tried to split his time between Scott and Derek evenly because Scott complained loudly and at length when he didn't. But it wasn't easy. They were in the, Stiles liked to tease Derek, puppy dog part of their relationship and wanted to be together all the time.

-tw-

July 7, 2012

"You smell like the Alpha," Scott complained with a huff. Sitting in Stiles' room, game controller in hand, his vexation wasn't new. But it was heard, noted, and suitably ignored. "Stiles," Scott groaned when the human didn't answer.

"Well, what do you expect?" Stiles countered with a roll of his eyes. "He's my boyfriend." And then Scott pouted until Stiles punched him on the arm (which was more damaging to Stiles than his best friend) and told him to grow up. Pausing the game, he continue, "Dude, you know I'm sorry she's gone. But I had to listen for hours on end about how amazing Allison was, how beautiful her eyes were, and how soft her hair was. So, you can deal with me smelling like Derek. I'm, at least, not giving you details about our yet to be existent sex life." Derek wanted to take things slow and as anxious as Stiles often found himself, this was one issue he didn't try to push.

Crossing his arms, Scott's pout increased in intensity. "I don't like it. I like it better when you smell like me…"

That caused Stiles eyebrows to rise. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Well, before you two," Scott muttered with a wave of his hand. He never really acknowledged Stiles' relationship. "When I wasn't with Allison, I was with you. So, you always smelled like me. I liked it. I like it. I want you to smell like me."

"That's nice bro…" Stiles hedged. "You're really making me glad I don't have a wofly nose. But uh… Look, I'm trying, bro. I know you want to spend time with me mano-a-mano. Or is it wolfmano-a-mano… But Derek's-"

Before Stiles could continue, Scott cut in, "Stop seeing him. It's not right dude. I know you think he's good, good for you… but he's not. He's going to hurt you. I don't want that. I know you think you lo-"

"Don't you dare tell me how I feel! You told me you loved Allison after one date. One date, Scott. I've been with Derek for four months and he's been wonderful. Sure, we bicker but I like to think that's our way of flirting. We have… we have a lot of work cut out for us. We're both some kind of messed up. But I'm good for him. I want to be good for him, Scott. And I know you're lonely, and maybe a little jealous that I'm seeing someone. But you're still my best friend, dude." Tentatively, Stiles reached a hand out to his friend. Just before he could touch Scott's shoulder, the young wolf turned on him and gripped his arm firmly, extended claws breaking the skin. Stiles tried to pull back but his friend only gripped him tighter. "Dude, what the-"

In a twisted parody of his first interactions with Derek, Stiles found his back pressed against the nearest hard surface. It happened to be his closet door and the handle pressed uncomfortably on his lower back. Scott was pushing him too hard; he'd probably have a bruise there later. "Dude-"

"You have to stop seeing him, Stiles. It's driving me crazy, thinking of the two of you together."

"Scott, you're hurting me." Stiles gestured to his still captured arm. "Let go, man."

But Scott didn't listen. "Promise me you'll leave him Stiles. You have to. He's going to hurt you."

"Right now, you're the only hurting me," Stiles bit back. He tried again to pull his arm away, but it was futile. Small rivulets of blood snuck up under Scott's nails and dripped down Stiles' arm.

"You don't belong with him."

"And so I belong alone? Is that was you're saying, buddy? Or do I belong with you? Scott, we're best friends and that's all. You need to calm down."

"Yes," Scott agreed and for a moment Stiles thought this weirdness was going to pass. But then Scott continued, "You belong with me. Promise me, Stiles. I'm serious. Promise me you'll leave him."

Stiles didn't know what to say. He knew if he said the wrong thing then Scott would be able to tell he was lying. Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, he tried to form something sincere enough to fool the wolf in front of him. Instead he just nodded a bunch of times, murmuring, "Yes," a few times. His heart was hammering in his chest; Stiles was sure that Scott would know he was lying, even if he wasn't speaking.

But slowly the tension seemed to drain out of Scott. Eventually he stepped back, letting go of Stiles' arm. He never registered the blood; instead he went back to his seat and resumed playing Grand Theft Auto. With Scott distracted, Stiles went to their shared bathroom to tend to his arm. When he went back into his bedroom, Scott didn't act any differently. He didn't act like he'd just accosted his best friend since kindergarten. He didn't act like he'd just demanded Stiles break up with his boyfriend. He just acted like his usual self and Stiles forced himself to act the same.

When Scott finally headed into his room around 11pm, Stiles got into bed wide awake. Even though he couldn't hear as well as Scott, he listened to every sound his friend made. He heard Scott walk into the kitchen for a glass of water and then back into his room around 11:30. When he'd not heard a peep for about an hour, Stiles got up.

As quietly as he could he tiptoed around his room to find his sneakers. Instead of putting them on he chose to walk around in his socks, holding them in his hand. Sliding his car keys into his pants pocket, Stiles opened his door at a snail's pace. Thankfully it didn't squeak. Finally, after he'd managed to open and close the front door, he let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. After taking a moment to slip his shoes on, he headed to Derek's.

Leaning on the doorframe of the renovated Hale house, Derek, having heard Stiles' jeep come up the driveway, waved as Stiles exited his vehicle. "You're here pretty late. It's after 1 in the morning. Why do you smell like blood?" he asked when the younger man was just a few steps away. He narrowed his eyes as he focused on Stiles' forearm. "What happened?" Derek's voice was terse.

"Scott happened!" Stiles said loudly. He winced at the volume of his own voice before continuing. He knew Boyd and Isaac were inside the house and didn't want to bother them. "He was crazy, Derek! Even when he tried to kill me in the boy's locker room when he was first turned, I've never seen him look like this." Stepping off the porch, Derek gently took Stiles' arm in his hand to inspect the damage. "He said I belong with him. He wants me to break up with you and be with him. I don't know where this is coming from. It's Scott," he tried to reason. "He was over the moon for Allison, straight as a post. I don't know why he wants me."

Meeting Stiles' gaze, Derek said, "He has to know we're not breaking up." With a small smile, he admitted, "You're mine."

Even with the chaos of the evening, Stiles beamed at the older man, pleased with the declaration. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he brushed his lips against Derek's. Scott couldn't tell Stiles how to feel. He knew he loved Derek; he just hadn't told him yet.

"But to talk to you that way, that's a direct attack on me," Derek added once the kiss had ended. He shifted slightly still careful of his boyfriend's injury, and hugged Stiles to him. "I don't want either of you to get hurt. But if he challenges me…"

"I know," Stiles admitted. "I never thought this would happen. You two are finally in a good place," he whined into Derek's shoulder. "We finally got past the tensions and the secrets, and now he's screwing things up. And I've no idea why…"

"Well, you do like to remind me how awesome you are."

"While you're right, this is not the time for you to grow a sense of humor. Put your grumpy face on and sort this crap out. It's Scott. He's my best friend…"

"I know, I know." Derek's voice was low, trying to sooth Stiles' frayed nerves. Suddenly, Derek straightened, breaking the embrace. "He's here."

"What?" Stiles asked, alarmed. He twisted around to look at woods surrounding the house. But without werewolf senses, he had no sign of Scott. "Where?"

Stiles started to turn back to Derek but before he could, the Alpha, who'd shifted at the first scent of trouble, pushed him away. "Get down," Derek ordered. The hard shove knocked Stiles onto the ground. He looked up in time to see a large tree branch fly towards Derek. "No!" Stiles screamed when it made impact with Derek's left shoulder.

A hand helped Stiles as he struggled to stand. Above him stood Boyd and just behind him stood Isaac. Both betas were in their pajamas. "You have to help him," Stiles cried, meaning Derek. "You have to stop him," he demanded, meaning Scott. "They'll kill each other." Once he was on his feet he pushed at Boyd, but neither werewolf moved.

"This isn't training Stiles. Scott's challenging his place in the pack and we can't interfere."

"I want to," Isaac informed Stiles, his voice low. "I want to stop him. Derek's become a good Alpha. But-" He looked away, unable to meet Stiles' eyes.

Turning back to the fight, Stile felt his knees go weak. He leaned against Boyd, sure that without him, he'd be back on the ground. The branch Scott had thrown, while splintered further, was still embedded in Derek's shoulder. Blood was everywhere, on the Alpha's arms and neck. The dark shirt Derek wore looked thick and gross from the mess. "Stop!" he yelled, trying to get the two weres' attention.

Scott and Derek turned to regard him for a split second before going back to each other. With a clawed hand Derek lunged forward to swipe at Scott's abdomen. He must have made some contact since Scott let out a high-pitched whine, but the fighting continued.

"Please stop," Stiles tried again, his voice was barely above a whisper. His chest hurt and vaguely in his head he could hear how labored his breath was. When had breathing become so hard?

"Stiles-" Boyd's voice cut in. "You need to try and relax. Derek can't have his concentration split. He could lose if he's too worried about your having a panic attack." Boyd rubbed reassuring circles on Stiles' back but it didn't help the human feel better.

"They have to stop," Stiles managed to croak over the roaring in his ears. He knew the fight could not end well.

With the branch still in his shoulder, Derek slowed considerably with each step. He never had a chance to pull the branch out and heal from the injury because Scott kept coming at him. Derek's left arm was mostly useless. When he finally managed to grab Scott, the younger werewolf was easily able to get out of the hold. In frustration, Derek let out a long howl. For a moment, Scott froze where he was, not immune to the Alpha's call but then he lunged forward. He broke a piece of the branch and jabbed it into Derek's side. Then he clawed up Derek's back. Fresh red blood splashed everywhere and Stiles had to keep himself from vomiting.

Struggling to escape Boyd's hands on his shoulder, Stiles took a small step towards the fighting wolves. When a leaf crumbled under his foot, Derek's attention shifted and he turned to look at Stiles, who immediately realized his error. Boyd had been right.

Taking advantage of the moment, Scott raked his hands against the Alpha's throat, ruining everything under his touch. Derek reached up his throat, a look of true fear in his eyes. Slowly, Derek met Stiles' gaze. He tried to move his lips, to tell Stiles something but before it could become clear, Scott leaned over the older man and ripped his throat out with his teeth.

Stiles' heart clenched in his chest. His own throat hurt; it felt raw and he realized he was screaming. It hurt him to close his mouth and stop his grief from pouring forth. Then it was just gone and he felt nothing. His legs buckled out from underneath him and he found himself sitting on the grass. Stiles' whole body shivered even though it was early July and the night fairly warm.

Blood dripping from his face, his eyes red, Scott grinned maliciously. "I'm the Alpha now," he declared daring the betas to say anything. When Isaac cowered behind Boyd, who stayed silent, Scott turned away from his pack and stalked towards Stiles. Grabbing his friend's, still injured arm, Scott pulled Stiles up and flush against him. "You're mine."

Knowing it was futile to say otherwise, Stiles nodded. "Yes." Tears welled up in his eyes. He knew there was no life for him without Derek but this was about survival. "I'm yours." He didn't try to escape Scott even though he wanted to go to Derek's body. He wanted to hold the former Alpha, cover himself in the spilled blood, and stay with him always. Stiles remembered how his life had fallen apart when his mother died; this almost seemed worse.

"You two," Scott addressed his betas. "Can stay here or find a place closer to where we live. I don't really care."

Boyd nodded for both he and Isaac. "We'll move closer to you, to be closer to Stiles."

That was the wrong thing to say and Scott bared his, still bloody, teeth at the beta.

"And you, of course," Boyd placated. "We want to be close to our Alpha."

Scott nodded once before stomping off towards Stiles' car, never letting go of Stiles' arm. "Take us home," he ordered. Over his shoulder, he said, "Take care of the carcass. Bury it, burn it, whatever works."

As he passed Derek's body, Stiles stared at his now empty eyes. "I'm sorry," he mouthed. "I love you."

-tw-

The next few weeks were difficult and full of lies for Stiles. He lied to his father when he told him that he and Derek had had a falling out and broken up. Resting his head on his father's shoulder, Stiles came up with lie after lie. He said it was his idea to break up, get some space. And he told the Sheriff that Derek was going to NY to visit some old friends. So, if he didn't see him around town, not to worry, he'd get a chance to threaten him for hurting his son when he got back. The Sheriff held his son until Scott came by and insisted it was time for Stiles to go home. Momentarily started by Scott's tone, the Sheriff had reached down to finger his gun holster. But then he released his son into the care of his best friend. This was the young man he's watched grow up and Scott was also going through a bad break up. He reasoned that maybe the two friends could help each other.

Stiles lied to his Alpha every time Scott felt the need to confirm their relationship. Whether Scott could hear the lies or not didn't seem to matter. Or maybe he believed that sooner or later Stiles would be sincere.

Stiles lied every time some asked him if he was ok. His coworkers at the daycare asked him daily and he always replied with a wan smile and soft assurance. They too seemed to take him at his word and never really pressed the issue. He still did a great job with the kids and in the end that was what mattered.

He lied to Boyd and Isaac who, after moving into the same apartment complex as Scott and Stiles, asked when they were sure the new Alpha wasn't in listening distance. They didn't let him get away with the lies like everyone else. They continued to needle the point until Stiles blew up at them.

-tw-

July 28, 2012

"What do you want me to say?" Stiles yelled. "He killed Derek! He's crazy and he killed him."

"We'll get you out of here. Derek had contacts across the country. We'll get you out of here. You're not safe," Boyd tried to reason.

"If you two want to go," Stiles started. "Then go. You're not safe either, if Scott catches wind of this. Derek wouldn't want you to get hurt for him."

"He wouldn't want you to get hurt either," Boyd retorted.

Shaking his head, Stiles said, "I'm not listening to this. You two go, or let it drop. I'm not leaving. I can't…"

What Boyd and Isaac didn't know was that Scott had bound Stiles to him. It was impossible for them to be separated by more than a few miles. The sixth night after his rise as Alpha, Scott called some witches to town. The pack had met the witches when they'd passed through town after the Alpha pack. They hadn't been a threat as they were on their way to visit another coven in Oregon. Stiles had been shocked to find that Scott had kept contact with them. The witches had taken the change in pack leadership well, barely blinking an eye at it.

-tw-

July 13, 2012

"You realize binding yourself to this one is just going to hurt you, Alpha?" the oldest crone questioned, pointing to Stiles. "He's broken, this one is."

"He's mine," Scott insisted. "I want him bound to me. Can you do it or not?"

"Oh, we can do it," two witches said at the same time, identical grins on their faces. The idea of weakening the Alpha in front of them obviously pleased the two as they did nothing to hide their glee.

"We just don't think it's the best idea," the first crone spoke again. She shot a look at her sisters, wiping their smirks off their faces.

"It'll require blood, right?" Scott asked as he thrust his and Stiles' arm forward. Ignoring the witches disapproving eyes, he said, "Let's get it done."

"Alright, Alpha McCall, whatever you say." Stiles' stomach churned at the title. There was no more Hale pack.

Before Stiles could so much as squeak, the witch ran a sharp blade up the inside of his forearm. Blood ran downward towards his palm. Once she had made a deeper incision on Scotts arm to ensure enough blood on his hand, the witch put Scott and Stiles hands together. She even made them entwine their fingers.

Muttering in Archaic Latin (Stiles only knew because he's heard Lydia using it when she'd translated the Bestiary) the woman started to tie Scott and Stiles together. As she spoke Stiles' palm grew warmer and warmer. He knew the ritual wasn't supposed to hurt so much. Soon the heat unbearable but Scott wouldn't let him break free. Then before his own eyes, Stiles' blood traveled back up his arm and into the wound it had escaped from. On Scott's arm, his blood was doing the same. When all the blood was gone and the cuts healed, the witch declared, "It is done." Scott still didn't release Stiles' hand and resigned that he'd never be able to escape the werewolf, Stiles didn't try to break free.

When they returned home that night, Scott led the human to his bed. Stiles wished he were allowed to go to his own; Scott's was too firm and hurt Stiles' back. "Tell me you're mine," Scott murmured as he pulled Stiles' shirt off of him. Usually when Stiles went to bed he slept in a t-shirt and boxers but the last few nights Scott hadn't let him put on a shirt.

Answering the 'request' Stiles nodded and lied, "Yes, Scott. I'm yours."

"You belong to no one but me. The witches ensured it with their magic. You will always be mine."

"Yes, Scott. I'm yours," Stiles repeated as he stepped out of his pants and kicked off his socks. Even though he'd been naked with his friend more times than he could count, they'd bathed together as children and played sports together in high school and college, when Scott urged him into bed Stiles felt uncomfortable in his own skin.

"I want to bite you," Scott breathed into Stiles' ear and Stiles froze.

"No, Scott. Please, no. You know I don't want to be a wolf."

"I know, I know…" Scott ran his teeth along the curve of Stiles' neck and the human felt tingles run up his spine out of fear. "It wouldn't be bad, Stiles," Scott mumbled against his skin. "Then you could be mine in every way."

When Stiles moved his neck out of Scott's reach the Alpha growled impatiently. "Scott, I'm yours." He met his friend's eyes, levelly. "I'm yours; you know this, I know this. Please. I don't want to be a wolf."

Still frowning, Scott nodded once. "We can talk about this another time, I guess. You'll change your mind. You will want the bite someday."

'No, I really don't think I won't,' Stiles thought to himself. The words almost escaped his mouth but he was able to keep them just to himself. He was sure if he voiced his opinion, Scott would bite him right then and there.

Settling down on his pillows, Scott let out a sleepy yawn. Apparently the witches' magic had tired him out. "Someday you'll change your mind. You'll be my mate in everyway… once your Dad's not suspicious, we'll get married. That way everyone will know you're mine."

Falling asleep himself, Stiles said for the umpteenth time, "Yes, Scott. I'm yours."

-tw-

July 28, 2012

"But Stiles," Isaac piped up. "Derek left a will. We," he gestured to himself and Boyd. "Found it when we were packing things up. Dude, he left just about everything to you, the house, and most of his inheritance. We could go. We could get new identities or something-"

"You're not listening to me!" Stiles thundered, slamming his fists on the kitchen counter. "I'm not leaving!" As he replayed Isaac's words, Stiles felt his frustration leak out his. He turned back to his friends, his face white. "He left me… No," Stiles shook his head. "Don't tell me." He pointed to the two betas. "Don't tell me. I don't want to know."

Stiles felt his stomach tie into knots. He had to suppress the urge to be sick. How dare Derek leave him anything! "I'm serious, if you two want to go, I'll try to hold Scott off long enough for you to get some distance between you. You two should go and be safe. But I'm staying here. I can't leave; I just can't and you have to accept it, ok?" Reluctantly Boyd and Isaac nodded, unhappy with the idea.

"Well stay for you," Isaac pledged and Boyd put his hand on Stiles' shoulder.

Stiles' hated himself when he eased away from the touch. "Sorry, man. Scott doesn't like it when I smell like other people. He tolerates that the kids climb all over me at work but he won't be happy with you, even if you are still pack."

"Stiles if you ever change your mind…" Stiles shook his head and Boyd's words. "Ever Stiles. You just tell us and we'll get you out of here."

"You're gonna be waiting a long time," Stiles muttered as he walked to door to his apartment. "You two should get out of here. Go relax in your own place or something. I'm fine."

"None of us are fine," Isaac whined. Then the younger beta handed Stiles something he'd not noticed him holding before. "We found this in Derek's bed. We knew it was yours and thought you'd want it back."

In his hands, Stiles saw his familiar red sweatshirt. He'd left it Derek's the last time he'd stayed over, forgetting it because when he'd driven home it had been to warm to wear it. Fingering the hem of the hoodie, Stiles gave Isaac a small smile. "Thanks dude. I appreciate it." He opened the front door and slowly his friends headed out. "See you two later."

"Yeah, man," Boyd called over his shoulder as he walked towards the stairwell, Isaac a step behind.

Once the door was shut and he was alone again, Stiles hugged the sweatshirt to him. He felt tears well up in his eyes and he couldn't keep them from falling. Derek was gone and all he had was a sweatshirt that was his in the first place. He slid down to sit on the floor, his back against the door. He hadn't cried since that first night… and now he couldn't keep himself from releasing his grief.

They'd not had enough time, he and Derek. It wasn't fair. He'd stopped really believing in God when his mother passed away. While, he liked the idea of some unseen force watching over him, he wasn't sure how he felt about the same force letting people die. Stiles hated whatever force had allowed Derek to die. He hated everything.

They were supposed to have more time. Stiles had planned to eventually move into the Hale house. He'd planned on someday popping the question to Derek when the older man least expected it, maybe when he was in the bathroom or putting his sneakers on. Stiles hadn't given it too much thought but he'd liked the idea of getting a puppy or some other pet. That way he and Derek could practice before maybe starting a family… They never had the chance for anything. Stiles hadn't even gotten to tell Derek that he loved him. That burned Stiles on the inside. He was filled with guilt that maybe, maybe Derek died not knowing he was loved.

When he was calm enough to stand, Stiles went to his closet. Even though Scott made Stiles share his bed, all of Stiles' things were in his room. Searching for his heaviest winter jacket, he pulled it out and wrapped it around the sweatshirt. Whether the hoodie would mean anything to Scott or not, Stiles didn't want the Alpha to see it. Derek had kept the hoodie close to him, slept with it if what Isaac said was true. That meant it belonged to Stiles and Derek. It was something Scott couldn't touch. Hiding the sweatshirt in the back of his closet, Stiles nodded, pleased with the secret. There were things that even Scott couldn't ruin; knowing that Derek had kept something of Stiles' close to him, and all his other memories of the previous Alpha, made things slightly more bearable. Scott could only try to own Stiles' body…

-tw-

September 26, 2012

Stiles got a position subbing for a woman on maternity leave. He loved being at school more than he ever thought possible. At school he didn't have to worry that he was going to say the wrong thing or react badly to Scott's touch. He didn't have to worry about angering the Alpha who was still getting control over his increased power.

After Peter's death, Derek made the transition to Alpha look easy. Ok, maybe not in the traditional sense as everyone in the pack knew he struggled with the leadership position he was never supposed to have. But he'd found his stride and that's what mattered. Scott made the betas nervous considering how he'd come to power but they tried not to show it. They still wanted to leave, to run, but they'd stopped begging Stiles to go with them.

Entering the teacher's lounge, a happy little jolt went through Stiles as he got to see the forbidden territory from his high school experience. He pushed the happy feeling down as quickly as he could. He hated feeling happy when Derek was gone. It wasn't right. He'd just pulled his sandwich out of his paper bag when a voice said, "You didn't answer my text." Looking up, Stiles was surprised to see Scott in front of him.

"Um," Stiles scrambled for him phone. "It was on silent in class. I can't really enforce a no phone rule in class if my own goes off, now can I?" He gave Scott a tight smile; his eyes darted to the other teachers in the room. The Alpha would have to be careful with what he said and did in front of the other humans.

"I thought you were ignoring me," Scott all but growled, ignoring the fact they weren't alone.

Stiles sighed. "Would I be that stupid?" He pulled Scott over to the furthest corner from the other teachers who were trying to not look interested. "I wasn't ignoring you. I was just about to check my phone, actually. I'm sorry. I'll check in more frequently in the future." Stiles touched Scott's hand, pleased that it was still a hand and not a claw. "You don't have to worry about me. You know I'm yours."

"Yes, you're mine, which means you check in when you're supposed to."

Nodding fervently, Stiles quickly agreed, "Yes, every break between classes, I'll call or text. I promise. I'll do better in the future." He mentally kicked himself for forgetting.

Seemingly placated, Scott straightened. "Good." He kissed Stiles' cheek. "I have to get back to Deaton's. I'm missing my lunch to come over here."

"I'm sorry, really."

"I expect a message before your next class."

"Yup, two even." Stiles assured; he was embarrassed that Scott came all the way to the school. "And then I'll see you at home when you get out of work. Dinner will be on the stove."

"Good, good." Then before Stiles could say anything else, Scott headed out the door.

Looking at the closed door, Stiles cleared his throat. He felt his face getting warm but determinately went back to his food. He didn't look at any of his co-workers, unsure of what he'd see on their faces. Some of the teachers he was working with had known him and Scott when they were students. He didn't want to answer any questions, but especially not from anyone who'd known him before. He was sure by the end of the day the rumor mill would be buzzing. Stiles took a bite of his sandwich but could barely swallow it. A large gulp of water helped it down but he couldn't eat anymore.

-tw-

December 1, 2012

Moving apartments in the middle of winter wasn't a great idea. While the weather wasn't as cold in Beacon Hills as it could be in other parts of the country, it was still cold and gray. Even though he had a smile plastered on his face, Stiles felt as bleak as the weather.

"Well, I can't say I ever saw this happening, so," Sherriff Stilinski said he put one of the last boxes down on the kitchen table. Next to the sink, Stiles was putting dishes away. "I never thought you and Scott would be anything more than friends."

Stiles shrugged. "I dunno Dad. It's pretty natural, if you ask me." He and Scott had told their parents of their 'relationship' the month before. Neither the Sheriff nor Melissa had been overly welcoming of the news, though they tried. They had never expected their sons to be anything other than best friends. The Sheriff tried to show his support by helping the 'new couple' move into one bedroom apartment.

"You know, Stiles… You never really told me what happened with Derek. He's been gone six months. Whatever he was doing in NY, shouldn't he be back by now? He has a pack to run."

"Actually, Sherriff," Scott strode into the kitchen. He'd heard the questions and felt the need to interfere. He hated when anyone mentioned the former Alpha. Scott put a hand on Stiles' hip and leaned into him. It didn't go unnoticed by anyone that he put himself between Stiles and his father. "I'm in charge now. Since Derek is gone, I'm in charge." Scott kissed Stiles' cheek and Stiles was proud when he didn't flinch. Scott didn't like it when he flinched.

The Sheriff's eyes narrowed slightly. "I see…"

"Thanks for helping us move, Dad. It was so nice of you to spend your day off moving heavy boxes," Stiles cut in, changing the subject.

"Anything for you, kid."

"Still, you didn't need to help dad. Not when Isaac and Boyd were roped into a lot of the heavy lifting."

"It's no problem, Stiles. A beer when I get home will help my stiff back."

"That was the last right box, right Sherriff?" Scott asked, pointing to the box that had yet to be opened.

"Uh, yup, I guess so… that my cue to head out? Let you two unpack and get settled?"

"No, Dad." Stiles moved out of Scott's grip and the werewolf frowned. "You're welcome to stay. While I normally cook, I was thinking of ordering pizza for dinner. You in for a slice?"

"I don't want pizza. We had it last week."

"Oh… ok," Stiles gave Scott an uneasy smile. "Whatever you want then. But of course, Dad, you're welcome to stay."

Sherriff Stilinski looked at Scott and then shook his head. Something was going on, but he wasn't sure what. "Nah, kid. Walk me out to my car, though, yeah?"

"Sure dad." Stiles shot Scott a look and said, "I'll be right back."

The two Stilinski men stayed quiet until they were out to the county vehicle, the Sherriff drove for work. "You sure you're ok, son? This move with Scott seems a little sudden."

Stiles hated that he'd mastered lying to his father. "Come on, dad. It's me and Scott. I don't know why you and Mrs. McCall are so shocked. We've been attached at the hip since we were kids. We were both hurting and now we're not. This is good, for both of us."

Keeping his voice low, knowing if he tried, Scott could hear him, the Sherriff asked, "Is he forcing you, Stiles? Is he hurting you?" He was afraid to hear the answer. On one hand he had the young man he'd watched grow up along side his own son. On the other hand, he needed some explanation for the change in both Scott and Stiles. Melissa had confided in him that Scott wasn't her little boy anymore and that she sometimes didn't recognize the man in front of her.

"Do you hear yourself, Dad?" Stiles forced himself to laugh off the concern. He wouldn't get his Dad involved in everything. Scott had taken Derek out easily enough, a human Sherriff wouldn't even compare. "Come on, it's Scott. We're fine dad, happy even. Just trust me, ok?"

It wasn't easy but Sherriff Stilinski nodded. "Sure, son. I trust you." He opened the door to the cruiser and sat in the driver's seat. "Come on over soon. I miss having you in the house."

"Yeah well, that's what you get for raising a brilliant son who has higher goals than living with his Dad for the rest of his life. You could have just let me play videogames 24 hours a day." Stiles reached in and knocked his Dad's shoulder. "Love you, old man."

"Love you too, jackass."

-tw-

January 20, 2013

"Stop moving," Scott demanded and he shifted his head on his pillow.

"Sorry man, it's too hot in here." Sleeping next to Scott was like lying next to a furnace. Stiles kicked off his blankets and turned his pillow so that the cool side was up.

In the new apartment, Scott had wanted to get a king sized bed. While he insisted that he wanted the space, he still crowded Stiles every night. And Stiles couldn't stand it. Even after seven months of sleeping together, he still hadn't adjusted. When he attempted to pull away from the current Alpha, to just get a smidgen of space between them, Stiles found himself pulled back by a firm grip.

"Just close your eyes and go to sleep," Scott encouraged, huffily. "I have to be at Deaton's extra early in the morning."

Derek had never smothered Stiles in bed. Derek had been content when just their legs touched or if they fell asleep holding hands. Even after seven months, Stiles wished with every fiber of his being that he was in bed with Derek. He still grieved knowing he was never going to get the chance to again.

"I know, I'm sorry." It was easier to just apologize even though Stiles didn't think he'd done anything wrong. He just couldn't get comfortable. "Go to sleep, Scott; I'm fine." Scott's arm was across Stiles' chest. Stiles gently ran his fingernails up and down it as he attempted to shift away.

Touching changed after Scott became the Alpha. Gone were the friendly hugs and taps on the shoulder. While Scott was always coming up with reasons to touch and scent Stiles, the human rarely initiated contact anymore. He hated the feel of Scott against his skin.

Stiles had just managed to get a few inches between them when Scott let out an unhappy huff. The Alpha wiggled his body closer and wrapped his arms around Stiles' torso, locking him in place. Sighing, Stiles closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep. He hoped he dreamt of Derek; he always felt a little better when he did.

-tw-

March 5, 2013

"Hey Shelia, can I borrow your phone? My battery died and I forgot to bring my charger." Stiles grinned at his co-worker who rolled her eyes in response. Stiles was subbing at the high school because one of the math teachers was in a car accident and needed physical therapy.

"Sure, honey. Going to call that boy of yours?" Shelia asked, remembering the buzz that had sprang up last term. "You still with him?"

"Yup, 8 months and we're still going strong," Stiles tried to brag. He was more than sick of the worried looks everyone gave him. Gossip traveled fast in a town like Beacon Hills. After Scott's impromptu visit last September, everyone and their mother seemed to know that something wasn't quite right with his and Scott's relationship.

As Shelia handed over her phone she leaned in close to whisper something to Stiles. She stood so close, Stiles to smell her lavender perfume; it made his nose itch. "My sister had a controlling boyfriend for a while. If you need to talk at all…"

Surprised, Stiles jerked back. No one, other than his father and the betas, had really voiced their concern before. They all sent him pity looks but not one had ever questioned the rumor mill by going to the source. "Um." Stiles shrugged. "There's not much to talk about… but, uh, thanks?"

Shelia just nodded. "Ok, I understand." Then she touched Stiles' shoulder before going to sit down and relax before next period.

"I'll just bring it back to you in a minute," Stiles said as he exited the teacher's lounge to stand in the hall.

Dialing the familiar number, Stiles hoped Scott didn't answer. He'd texted Scott from his own phone as he'd promised to do after every period, but he wasn't calling to talk to Scott.

"Alan Deaton speaking, how can I help you?"

"Hi Dr. Deaton, is Scott around?"

"Stiles, is that you? No, Scott headed out to have lunch with his mother. You know, I have caller id but I don't recognize this number."

"I borrowed it from a co-worker. You're sure he's not there?" Stiles played with the hem of his shirt, sure that Scott was going to come on the line any second.

"I'm positive, Stiles. He headed out about fifteen minutes ago. He also told me he was going to Mama Theresa's for lunch and as you know that's across town from my office. Was there something you needed?" Dr. Deaton sounded as calm as ever and that frustrated Stiles.

"You have to help me!" Stiles quietly yelled into the phone. He looked up and down the hall to make sure no students were skipping class and could overhear him. "You work with him every day… you know he's different. I can't- I just can't-"

"To be honest, I'm surprised you're calling me now. I thought I was going to hear from you months ago."

"I don't know what to do," Stiles admitted slowly. "My Scott, my best friend, he has to still be in there somewhere? Doesn't he? Somewhere underneath all that crazy, he has to be there."

"Maybe, maybe not." At Deaton's cavalier answer, Stiles had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming in the hall.

"You have to help me."

"I don't have to do anything, Stiles. The pack dynamics may have changed, but there hasn't been any murder or mayhem under the new regime. Or, at least not yet."

"You're just going to ignore the fact that Scott, the same Scott who a couple years ago would hurt a fly, murdered Derek?"

"It wouldn't be the first time a beta challenged their Alpha and won. If you're unhappy, why don't you leave, Stiles? By the way Scott tells it, he's living in paradise, bed sharing with you."

Stiles took the phone away from his ear and took a deep breath to calm himself. When he brought the phone back up, he muttered, "I can't leave, he bound me to him."

"Ah, yes. I do remember Nokomi mentioning that."

"You know? You knew!" Stiles seethed. Then he quickly spun around when he heard the door to the teachers lounge open, his anger morphing into fear at getting caught.

"You almost done, honey?" Shelia asked, sticking her head into the hall.

Stiles held up one finger and mouthed, "Sorry," her way.

Nodding, Shelia said, "Take all the time you need." She gave Stiles a knowing frown before shutting the door.

"Of course, I know, Stiles," Alan said, ignoring the interruption. "The coven wanted to warn me. They said binding the two of you was bound to eventually bring chaos to the territory."

"Yeah," Stiles sighed. "They said I was broken."

"And you are. You broke when Derek died; you loved him and he was stolen from you. When something tragic, like Derek's death, happens, the people closest are affected; I think you're more than familiar with this idea." Even though Deaton couldn't see him, Stiles found himself nodded at the doctor's explanation.

"Sometimes, the soul can crack and splinter when it experiences loss. You already had cracks from the death of your mother. And now, well… That's why I'm surprised it's taken so long for you to call me. Broken or not, you're stronger than those witches gave you credit for." Stiles could hear the pleased overture in Deaton's voice. But it didn't help him feel better. "Now then, what do you need Stiles?"

"I need… I mean, I have to… for Derek. Can you help me?"

"Yes, Stiles, I believe I can."

-tw-

May 15, 2013

"What are you doing here Stiles?" Scott asked when he spotted his 'boyfriend' sitting behind the desk at Deaton's office.

"I thought we might have lunch together. But when I got here, the doc said you'd gone out to run some errands. Deaton said I could sit and wait till you got back."

"I told you I was I was picking up those new kennels today." Scott stopped at the desk and looked down at the human. It was easy to see he was annoyed. "Why don't you ever listen to me?"

Stiles held up his hands defensively. "I'm sorry; you're right. You did tell me that was today. I'm sorry," he said again. He looked down at his hands and saw they were shaking. He didn't want Scott mad at him.

Eyes still narrowed, Scott shook his head. "I don't even know why Alan sent me. The place we order from usually delivers. Anyway… you mentioned lunch?"

"Yeah, I was thinking we could go for meatball heros at Gina's."

"No," Scott decided. "I don't want that. I want Chinese from Wong's Garden. You go pick up the usual while I get things done here."

Even though he'd had his mind set on a meatball hero, Stiles hopped off his seat and quickly agreed, "Sure man. I'll go right now." Swinging his backpack onto his shoulder as he walked past Scott, he said "Be back soon."

Before Stiles could get through the office door, Scott grabbed his arm. His voice low, even though there was no one to overhear them, Scott said, "It was nice of you to come see me. Even if you never listen."

"I'll listen better in the future, I promise." Stiles made no attempt to pull out of the Alpha's grasp. He'd learned the hard way, Scott didn't like it when he tried to get away.

"I don't know why you have such a hard time listening to me. It's like you're trying to piss me off." Scott's grip on Stiles' arm tightened slightly.

"No, that's not true," Stiles disagreed to deaf ears.

"We're together all the time. We live together, eat together. You'd be here all the time if I told you to be, right?"

"Yes, Scott."

"And I take care of you. I work, provide for our home. I make sure we have food, everything we need. Don't I take care of you, Stiles?"

"Yes, Scott. You take care of me. You do… because I'm yours. You're the Alpha and I'm yours." Stiles could hear ringing in his ears. Even after all the months together, he wasn't used to Scott when he acted this way.

"So, why can you just-"

"Everything alright in here?" a voice interrupted. To Stiles' embarrassment, Scott growled at the veterinarian.

"We're fine," Stiles squeaked. Clearing his throat, he said, "All fine here."

"Yes," Scott agreed after a moment. "Stiles is just going to pick up some lunch from Wong's Garden. Do you want anything?"

"That's so nice of you to go, Stiles, but no thank you. I packed my lunch today." Dr. Deaton moved further into his office to go to his filing cabinet. Opening it, he searched for a folder. "I have some accounting stuff to go over, so if the two of you would be so kind as to vacate my office."

"Sure, Doc," Scott said as he pulled Stiles out of the room. Once they were out of earshot, Scott turned on the human. "We'll discuss this more tonight. But now, I'm hungry."

Looking at the floor, Stiles mumbled, "Yes, Scott. I'm sorry, really I am… I'll get the food as fast as possible." He hoped Scott's bad mood might disappear once he ate. "I'll tell Mrs. Zhang it's a lunch emergency." Scott let out a small laugh and Stiles felt himself relax a little. If he could make Scott laugh some more when he got back, then maybe he wouldn't be in so much trouble at the end of the day.

-tw-

June 23, 2013

"You were right," Stiles said, looking down at his bowl of soup. He made his mother's recipe and thought it turned out pretty well. Scott preferred it when Stiles cooked, so he tried to prepares things several times a week. It was one of the easier ways to keep Scott happy.

"Look at me," Scott commanded. When Stiles finally met his gaze, he asked, "What was I right about?"

"I've uh- I've thought about it. I want you to give me the bite."

"What?" Scott looked delighted and just the tiniest bit suspicious.

They've 'talked' about it before. Scott told Stiles numerous times how to wants to 'gift' him with the bite and every time Stiles begged him not to. Stiles had no idea how, as a human, he affected the Alpha's power; maybe Scott thought that if they were both wolves, then Stiles wouldn't be broken anymore and they'd both be stronger. Though it was probably, Stiles rationalized, just another way to ensure that Stiles could never escape.

"Why now?"

"I uh- I just thought it was time. We told my dad how we're planning to get married… and it just makes sense, I guess." Even though they had been basically 'witch married' since the previous summer, Scott had recently been bit by the idea of making it all legal. While he'd never given Stiles a ring, or really a choice in the matter, Scott had informed the Sheriff and his mother the last time they were together. "You'll do it, right? Please Scott… I'll be your mate."

Before Stiles could blink, Scott stood up, knocking his chair back so that it fell over. He walked over to where Stiles sat and roughly pulled him up by the collar of his plaid shirt. "You're already mine," he ground out, eyes red. "You're my everything." He pulled Stiles in a bruising kiss that the human knew to return or suffer the consequences. When Scott finally pulled away, Stiles' mouth was sore. "You're mine."

"I'm yours."

Scott leaned in and rubbed his nose against Stiles' throat. As he licked and kissed the skin there, he unbuttoned Stiles' shirt. Littering kisses down Stiles' chest, Scott moved so that he was kneeling on the floor.

Stiles knew immediately when Scott shifted, as claws dug into the soft skin on his hips. He tried to calm himself, ready himself for what he'd asked for. It was on the tip of his tongue to change his mind but he forced himself to stay quiet. Even though he knew it had to happen, Stiles started to shake. In retaliation, Scott pricked his skin harder to steady him.

Scott kissed Stiles' side once before biting him. Screaming through clenched teeth, Stiles felt his body turning inside out. His whole body was on fire. It was a million times better and worse than the magic the witches had performed the summer before. It hurt more than Stiles thought possible but at the same time he felt stronger than ever before.

When Stiles opened his eyes he was on the kitchen floor. The table was turned over, soup everywhere. Scott stood over him, his eyes still like blood. "You're mine," he growled.

On shaky legs, confused with the new power in them, Stiles forced himself to stand. "Yes, Alpha. Yes, Scott. I'm yours."

-tw-

July 31, 2013

"Come to bed, Scott. It's been a long day for both of us, so we should just go lie down." Stiles leaned on the doorframe to the bedroom. In the year he and the Alpha had been together, Stiles had never encouraged Scott to join him before. Usually he went to bed when Scott decided to, whether he was tired or not. Obviously pleased with this change in his mate, Scott shucked off his shirt as he walked towards the bed. Following suit, Stiles tried to calm him nerves. Once he was just in his boxers, he slid into bed. Scott did the same a second later.

Like usual, Scott moved over until his body was flush against Stiles'. Rubbing his face against his mate's, Scott caressed Stiles' chest and abdomen. They didn't kiss; Scott seemed content to just breathe together. Slowly his fingers dipped lower and lower until he pulled Stiles' boxers down and was fingering the pubic hair at the base of Stiles' cock. Shifting in the bed, Stiles kissed Scott's bare shoulder, willing his body to respond. He knew things would go better if he at least pretended to not be repulsed by Scott's touch.

"I've been dreaming about touching you all day," Scott said as he placed kisses along Stiles' jaw line. In the back of his mind, Stiles remembered a time when Derek kissed him like that, like they had all the time in the world. He remembered the soft burn of Derek's stubble against his skin. Scott's kisses were never like Derek's, never as good.

"Tell me this feels good," Scott demanded as he wrapped a fist around Stiles.

"Yes, it's good." Stiles said, keeping his eyes down. "You're good, always so good to me."

Arrogantly, Scott agreed, "I am." He pressed his own hard cock against Stiles' thigh. "I'm going to take you, make you come, mark your pretty skin."

"Yes, yes…" Stiles' breath was shallow and fast. "But I- can I…" Scott's hand stilled as he waited to hear his mate's request. "I want to try and be on top. Please, Scott? Please, can I ride you? I prepped myself earlier… when you were at work."

"And did you think of me? Did you imagine me fucking you, taking you over and over, as you readied yourself? Tell me you thought of me."

"Of course I did," Stiles whimpered when Scott resumed his work. "I imagined how you would look underneath me. Please, Scott, can I?" Scott didn't need to respond, he just laid back on the bed and allowed Stiles to climb on top of him. Achingly slow, Stiles lowered himself onto Scott. Even though he had got ready earlier, he still found himself to be a bit tight. Underneath him, Scott seemed to enjoy the friction, as he arched his back and growled. Once he had fully taken Scott in, Stiles leaned forward to kiss Scott's chest. Impatient, Scott entwined his fingers in Stiles' hair and pulled it harshly. Ignoring the pain, Stiles ran his fingers underneath his pillow until he found what he was looking for. Before Scott could react, Stiles sliced the back of his neck with Deaton's dagger.

-tw-

May 15, 2013

"Nice to see you again, Stiles; it's been a while."

"Where's Scott?" Stiles asked as he moved into the vet's office. There'd been no one in the waiting room, so he'd walked right in.

"I sent him to go pick up some new crates. A few of the old ones needed to be replaced. I'm lucky today turned out to be so quiet since I'm here alone." Dr. Deaton gestured to an empty chair. "Please sit. Care for anything, tea maybe?"

Stiles took the offered seat and looked down at his hands. Scott had told him he was going to be out of the office most of the day. How he'd forgotten, Stiles didn't know. He was tempted to leave, to go home and pretend he'd never left the apartment. But he knew Scott would catch his scent when he came back to work and would know he was there. "No, thanks. I'm fine."

"Yes, I can see that. You know, when you called me two months ago, I thought you'd come right into the clinic. You do certainly surprise people, Stiles. You tell me you need help and then keep me waiting."

"I'm sorry," Stiles spit out urgently, still unable to meet the veterinarian's gaze. He felt like he was always apologizing for something.

Slowly, Dr. Deaton stood up from his desk chair. Walking over, he put a hand on Stiles' shoulder. "There's no need to apologize. Relax." Nodding, Stiles let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Now then, I have something that may be of some use to use." Releasing Stiles' shoulder, the vet walked over to his filing cabinet and pulled out a small blue bag.

"I've infused this with several different herbs and oils. You, so long as you believe it will work, should be able to keep this somewhere safe without Scott finding it. He won't be able to sniff it out." Deaton tapped his nose twice. "The blade," he said as he pulled out a dagger with an aqua handle, "Has been dipped in kanima venom. I made sure to collect some when your friend Jackson was so afflicted. Once little nick with this, and well, I'm sure you can take care of the rest, that is, if you feel you still need it." Deaton put the dagger back in the bag and instead of handing it to Stiles, placed it in the center of his desk. "This decision is entirely up you to Stiles. You have a choice."

-tw-

July 31, 2013

"Stiles, what did you do?" Scott asked, eyes red and alarmed.

Stiles was sure the cut had worked when Scott didn't force him off of him. He shifted so that Scott was no longer limp inside of him. "You… I-" Stiles sighed. "I never dreamed of this. I never thought one day, you and I… But I can't live like this anymore. I thought maybe it would be different if I were a wolf too. I thought maybe I wouldn't be scared of you all the time. But you like it this way, don't you? You like having everyone fear you…"

His mind moving a mile a minute, Stiles tried to organize his thoughts. "You should know, Boyd and Isaac aren't here for you. They're here for me, to support me because that's what Derek would want." Scott growled loudly at the name. "Derek would hate all of his. But he'd hate me especially; he'd hate that I've cowered to you all this time. And I don't want him to hate me."

"Every day I remember his death; I remember how you took him from me. I can't have him hate me, Scott. You never should have become Alpha. You were never meant for this position and I'm taking it from you."

"And you're going to kill me, Stiles?" Instead of sounding scared, Scott sounded amused. "Really?"

"I have to!" Forgetting his werewolf strength, Stiles punched the bed's backboard, splintering it. "You took away my free will. You demanded things of me every day. You wanted a puppet you could sleep with."

"No, Stiles. I meant what I said. Every time I told you I loved you, I meant it. You're my everything."

"And I'm sure somewhere in that warped brain of yours, you really believe that. But I know my best friend is never coming back. You killed him and you killed Derek. I'm not going to let you kill me too."

"I would never hurt you!"

"Every day I have been with you, has hurt me. Just looking at you hurts me. I loved him! Damnit, I still love him. I will always love Derek." Stiles could feel tears running down his cheeks. "I'm not discussing this anymore… I'm gonna channel my inner Hale and rip your throat out with my teeth."

Scott obviously didn't believe Stiles was serious because he started to laugh. Stiles didn't even try to smother the sound before gripped Scott's throat between his elongated canines and bit down. Blood flooded his mouth and Stiles fought the urge to gag. Tearing the flesh, Stiles sat up in time to see the life leave Scott's eyes.

Like when he'd first been turned, power flooded Stiles' body. He'd never felt so invincible before.

After sitting on Scott's naked body for several minutes, Stiles got up and went to the bathroom. His eyes were swollen like he'd been crying, but when had he been crying; Stiles wasn't sure. His skin was sticky with blood so he washed himself clean. When he went back into the bedroom, Stiles frowned when he saw how much blood was on the bedspread. It was such a mess. He knew he had to clean up. He knew he would get in trouble if the apartment wasn't spic-n-span. Scott always insisted the apartment be in perfect condition. It was easy to pull the blankets and sheets of the bed even with Scott still lying there. Stiles was pleased the new apartment had come with a washer and dryer. It made keeping things in order just that much easier.

Stiles had just put the blankets into the washer, the sheets were in the dryer, when someone knocked on the door. Looking through the peephole, Stiles saw Isaac and Boyd. "What are you two doing here?" Stiles asked as he opened the door. Stiles knew they knew better than to come over so late.

"We felt the shift in power…" Boyd said as he shut the door behind him. He jerked his thumb towards the bedroom and Isaac headed in that direction.

"Oh, no. Please don't go in there. It's such a mess." Stiles moved to block Isaac, holding up his hands. "I'm cleaning everything," he assured the two betas. "It's just a mess now."

"Stiles, what did you do?"

"Um, well. I killed, Scott… I'm the Alpha now." Isaac sucked in a breath and took a step back when the newest Alpha flashed his red eyes.

Glancing at Boyd, Stiles saw him nodding approvingly. "Derek would be proud of you." Stiles didn't respond to the praise. Instead he went into the kitchen to fill the mop bucket with water and grab a sponge. He had to clean the blood off the backboard and wall before it stained too much.

"You two can go now. I have cleaning to do."

"Stiles, we'll take care of Scott's body. We can get it out of here and bury it where no one will find it."

"No, no." Stiles shook his head. He didn't want his friends to see the mess he'd made. "I'll take care of it."

"Stiles-" Isaac tried.

"No!" the Alpha cut in. "You two go home. You are not involved in this."

Isaac whined but headed for the door. "If you need us, please call us, Stiles. Were here for you," Boyd said as he followed.

"Thank you both…" Stiles said quietly. "Thank you both for staying."

"You're our Alpha," Isaac said, sounding happy.

With the betas gone, Stiles slid on his dish gloves. He had a lot a cleaning ahead of him. He really hoped the blood came out of the sheet on the first run through.

-tw-

August 1, 2013

"Daddy?" Stiles asked, his voice quiet on the line. He was sitting on his couch, cell phone in hand. Even though it was summer, he felt cold and was sitting in his red hoodie. He was happy he'd kept it in the back of his closet.

Immediately filled with concern, Sheriff Stilinski asked, "Stiles? What's going on? Are you hurt?" He hadn't heard Stiles call him Daddy since he was a child. Looking at the clock on his desk, the Sheriff's concern grew when he saw the hour. It was almost three in the morning.

"Dad, I'm calling to report a murder." Sheriff Stilinski's heart went up into his throat. "Can you come over to the apartment, please? But just you, Dad. Don't bring anyone else with you."

"Stiles, are you hurt?" the sheriff questioned again as he exited his office, keys already in hand.

"No, I'm fine. But please, will you come? Just you?"

"Yeah, son. I'll be there soon. I'm already on my way to the car. Just hold on Stiles. I'll be there in a minute."

"I did it, Daddy," Stiles slowly admitted. "I killed him. I killed, Derek."

"What are you talking about," Sheriff Stilinski asked as he turns his car on. Screw driving laws; he'd not hang up on his son for anything.

"I distracted him. I distracted, Derek… I killed him. I'm my fault… it's all my fault."