Just a little something that popped into my head. My roommate and I were watching Grizzly Rage the other night, during which Tyler Hoechlin's character has a panic attack. Or something similar to one... Anyways, it got me thinking. Which got me writing. Which led me here. Tadaaa!

Breathe

It shouldn't have been him. Derek Hale watched the rain beat down against his window, thunder rumbling low in the distance. His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palm. It never should've been him. He never had the training. If he were to be completely honest with himself, he had no idea what he was doing. But Laura had. The oldest daughter of Talia Hale, she'd been groomed since birth to one day take their mother's place as alpha. She had been ready, there was no doubt of that. She was not only a natural leader and a fierce warrior, but she had a caring and compassionate soul. Right up until the day she died, she refused to become bitter and hell bent on revenge like he had. He wished, not for the first time, that he could be more like her. But instead of being the strong alpha his pack could depend on, he was weak, making mistake after mistake. He could only watch, helpless as those around him suffered. Struggled. Died. Why did everyone who got close to him have to die? Every time he let himself begin to care, even the slightest bit, they were taken from him. That's why he'd chased Isaac away. Why he held Scott and Stiles at arms length. It wasn't because he hated them, much as they might like to think so. No, Derek was terrified that if he let on how much he cared, he would lose them too. Like he'd lost everyone.

Paige. I couldn't save her. Couldn't protect her. The only girl I've ever really loved...

Even in death, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. The most precious thing he ever held in his arms. His eyes squeezed shut, trying to forget, but the memories kept coming. Pain and loss washed over him like the rain that fell from the sky.

My family. My parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I may as well have lit the match myself. I led Kate right to them...

Thick black smoke burned his lungs. The charred remains of his family home glaring back at him like something from a horror film. A choked sob ripped from his chest.

Laura. My sister. My best friend. Killed by our uncle. I shouldn't have let her come back alone. I should've been there to help her, to do something, even if it was just to be with her and hold her in her last moments. To take away the pain like I'd done for Paige...

Anger and grief overwhelmed him. He screamed right along with the storm.

Erica. Boyd. For God's sake, they were just kids! Their lives had hardly begun and now they're dead! Dead! And Boyd by my own hand!

He'd failed them. He'd failed them all.

The room was suddenly spinning, and his vision was blurring. His body began to tremble. He was so damn cold. It was as if all the blood had rushed from his head to his toes. Oh God, what was happening? Run. He had to run. Just get away from here. From everything.

He stumbled. Fell to his knees.

"Derek!" He heard Cora's cry over his own heart beat that echoed loudly in his ears. Through the black spots that were beginning to dance across his vision, he saw her run towards him. "Derek, what's wrong?"

He fell forward slightly, closing his eyes against the tilting room. She placed her hand on his back, feeling his muscles spasming as air rushed in and out of his lungs at an alarming rate. Cora couldn't remember being so terrified since the fire. "Derek, please, what's wrong?"

"I c-can't," he gasped, clutching at his chest, "c-can't br-breathe."

Her brother's cool and clammy hand found hers, holding onto it for dear life. Instinctively, her eyes swept over his body, searching for injury. A chest wound, head wound, something that might be causing Derek pain. But she found nothing. She had no idea what could possibly be happening to him.

"Ok," she said, trying to stay strong, "just try and calm down. Ok? Just..."

But Derek was shaking his head. He couldn't calm down. Couldn't hardly even think straight. He was shaking again, fighting for every breath. How long could he go on like this?

"I don't know!" Cora was nearly shouting to someone on her phone. "I just found him like this. I don't know what to do!" She was silent for a minute as she listened to the person on the other end, giving Derek's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah, ok. Thanks, babe. See you soon."

Hanging up the phone, she gathered her big brother into her arms as well as she could, gently rocking him back and forth. She kissed his head and whispered words of gentle comfort. Derek clenched his jaw, breathing hard and fast through his nose, willing himself to pull it together, if not for himself then for Cora, who's tears slid down her cheeks and fell into his hair.

Hurried footsteps echoed down the hall only a few minutes later, and Cora sighed with relief when Stiles came barreling into the loft. It only took him a few minutes to analyze the situation before taking over, gently pulling the two siblings apart. He sat down, leaning against the coffee table, and took the trembling alpha in his arms, Derek's back flush against Stiles' chest. "Alight man, listen," Stiles said, speaking in a low and soothing tone against Derek's ear. "You're having a panic attack. They suck, believe me I know, but everything's fine. Ok? You need to calm down. Breathe with me, ok? In and out. In," Stiles took a deep, slow breath in, "and out," and let it out just as slowly. "Again."

Soon, Derek's breathing evened out, matching Stiles' gentle rhythm. He collapsed against the younger man, head on his shoulder, completely exhausted. "How'd you know?" he asked, voice still a bit shaky from his ordeal. "How'd you know what to do?"

"I've had my fair share of panic attacks," Stiles sighed. "Actually, I think I've had mine and about three other guys' share."

Derek nodded, deciding not to press the matter. "Thanks, Stiles," he whispered hoarsely.

Stiles nodded. "Anytime, Sourwolf."

He helped Derek up and over to the couch. No sooner than he was seated did Cora join him, curling up at his side. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "I'm just glad you're okay."

"Not just for that." Cora pulled away to get a better look at his face. There were tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry for Laura. Mom and Dad. Boyd. Everything. You deserve better. The whole pack does."

Stiles' jaw dropped. "Dude, that's not your fault!"

But it was. Derek hung his head in shame, unable to meet his sister's gaze. It was quiet for a moment, then, he felt a slender hand on either side of his face. "Derek, look at me," Cora urged him gently. His eyes finally met hers. "Stiles is right. This isn't your fault. None of it is. No one blames you. You shouldn't either. It's beyond any of our control. You're doing the best you can. Mom and Laura, they'd all be proud of you. I know I am. You're my big brother, Derek. I love you. No matter what, I always will."

Derek couldn't help but smile a bit as some of the guilt he'd been carrying for years was lifted from his shoulders. "I love you too." Leaning forward, he hugged her tight.

Stiles watched the pair with a goofy grin. Derek shot him a look. "What?" Stiles cried in exasperation. "I didn't do anything! Unless you count saving your life. Again."

"Actually, I was wondering what that was on your neck, and why my baby sister called you babe earlier on the phone," Derek growled.

A hand flew to the side of his neck, touching the red bite mark Cora had left just an hour before. It wasn't bad, not when you consider what could happen when you made out with a werewolf, but it was noticeable. Stiles cringed. "Well, you see..."

Derek's eyes flashed red.

Stiles groaned. "Yeah, yeah. Teeth ripping out my throat and all that... whatever."