The Unexpected Journey- A Sterek Novella

7. Search and Rescue

Derek and Isaac drove back to the school. Derek had no idea what to do other than try and track Stiles the good old fashioned way. He and Isaac were going to use every sense at their disposal and hopefully pick up on his scent and track him on foot. Scott, Kira, Allison, and Lydia had not had any luck and were on their way to the Sherriff's station to meet up with Stiles dad and fill him in. Derek didn't really feel like facing that particular person right now and preferred to put his restless energy to better use by actually physically doing something. He parked the Camaro in an empty slot and climbed out with Isaac right behind him.

                Isaac was quiet as he watched Derek standing perfectly still in front of the school with his eyes closed and his hands clenched into tight fists. Isaac knew he was concentrating, tuning everything else out in order to hone in on that one scent he was seeking. Isaac watched as Derek's body tensed and turned to the East as he took several steps in that direction and stopped. When Derek looked at him his eyes were lit up and he gave Isaac a clipped nod making Isaac let his own wolf out.

                The two wolves sprang off with Derek leading Isaac on the trail of what Isaac hoped was the lost Stiles. Isaac had never seen Derek as focused and tense as this and wasn't sure what he would do if they didn't find him soon. Isaac was pretty fast but even he was having a hard time keeping up with the pace Derek set for them. He would pause periodically re-scenting the area they were in and without a word would spring off again knowing Isaac was right behind him for backup.

                Derek was a man possessed. He knew he had Stiles scent but at the same time there was something off about it. A kind of bitter smell mixed in with the familiar scent he knew too well, bringing to mind food left out for too long that had begun to decompose. He didn't like it... not one bit. It put an unnamable fear in him for Stiles and he tried not to dwell on it too much and just tried to focus on finding him. They could worry about what was messing with his scent later, he just needed to get to him first.

                Derek followed the trail through parks and streets never stopping or tiring. After about an hour he pulled up short in front of a huge gothic brick building surrounded by a large black wrought iron fence and gates with the words Eichen House inscribed above them.

                "Is he in there?" Isaac asked, breaking Derek's near like trance state.

                "He's in there somewhere... I just..." Derek's voice trailed off as the smell of rot had all but overpowered the smell of his Stiles, but the warmth and musk of him was still there, just buried underneath the odorous stench making him shiver with trepidation.

                Isaac noticed his former alpha's reaction and tried to focus and pick up on what had caused Derek to shudder visibly. The smell that hit him made him gag and he immediately shut down his sense of smell trying to get the cloying stench out of his brain. God, how had Derek been tracking Stiles through that? Granted, Isaac didn't pretend to know Stiles scent that well, but how could anyone track him through that, he didn't think even Scott would be able to.

                Derek stood rigidly trying to decide what his next move was. His fists clenched and unclenched unconsciously as his brain worked overtime. The gates were locked and he could see several people inside and he knew just barging in was not going to play out very well for him. The effort it took for him not to do just that was proving harder than he thought. Stiles was in there... somewhere... he knew it, and every instinct in him was urging him to get to him... now. Derek wanted to rip the gates apart to get in there to him, he wanted to rip apart whatever was making Stiles smell that way, he wanted to wreak all sorts of havoc and damage to the point he didn't care who was hurt in the process. Outwardly the only sign of his inward emotions was the telltale clenching and unclenching of his fists and his trademarked scowl. Stiles would have been proud.