Through the years

4.

Warning: Violence

***

Gasping desperately for air, Stiles found himself grabbed by the throat and brutally slammed against the nearby wall. 

Confusion clouded his mind as he couldn't understand what was going on. 

Why were there hands around his throat? 

Why were they squeezing him so tightly? 

His hands flew to the attacker's wrists, trying to rip it away from his neck so that his air flow was free to breath in the oxygen it was craving so badly, but in vain, the person was simply too strong. 

Forcing his eyes open, Stiles witnessed a sight which pained him more than the attack itself. 

On the other end of that arm which was squeezing the life out of him stood Derek. 

A very upset Derek. 

The eighteen year old boy was completely wolfed out and angry. 

Too angry. 

He and Derek had grown close in the brunette's time, enough to be called friends, and seeing the wolf's younger self attack him like that hurt way more than he thought it would. 

Weirdly enough, at least in such a situation, what struck Stiles the most was the colour of the wolf's eyes. 

Yellow.

A bright, stunning, golden yellow. 

It was such an unusual colour on Derek that it stunned the brunette for a moment. 

Forgetting what was happening, he stared at the fury reflecting in those bright eyes in wonder. 

How could such a violent emotion reveal itself as such a beautiful sight? 

Stiles was no stranger to the fury he could see coming from Derek. However, never had he been on the receiving end of it. 

The need for oxygen soon brought Stiles out of his own thoughts, his hands trying to get Derek's hand away in a weak attempt. 

Looking behind the wolf, hoping to get help, Stiles only saw equally furious wolves, their growls and roars encouraging Derek further in his actions. 

Vaguely noticing someone rushing inside the office to check on their alpha, Stiles' sight darkened slowly, as if to get the human to be aware of what was to come to him. 

As if to torture him. 

Soon enough, Stiles let go of any restraints and completely blacked out, allowing his body to finally fall limp in between the wolf's clawed hands. 

Even though the boy had already passed out, Derek's hands kept squeezing the life out of him. 

Control over himself was something Derek struggled with on a daily basis and right this second, he didn't have any. 

The only thing his mind could register was the burning anger inside of him. The sweet bubbling feeling in his chest, the boiling fury flowing through his veins and fueling his lack of self-control. 

That was the only thing in his mind, accompanied by the god awful sound of his mother's sobbing ringing in his head like a broken record. 

He had never heard nor seen his mother cry. 

He would have preferred never hearing it. 

It was horrible. It had struck every single one of the pack members as soon as the sound reached their sensible ears.