~Stiles
"Scott, Isaac, don't hurt him!"
I feel my eyes watering as I watch the two younger betas practically break Derek's arms while trying to hold him down on Scott's floor. He's snapping his teeth at them, violently thrashing his body in an attempt to break free from their grasps. I feel myself beginning to shake as Scott wraps his arms around Derek's neck, putting him in an improvised sleeper hold. Isaac wraps his free arm over Scott's, and together they hold on while Derek's movements slow down and his eyes begin to close from the decreased blood flow to his brain.
"You're killing him!" I'm frantic now, reaching over Isaac to try and pry Scott's arms off of the Alpha. Isaac sweeps his arm out, knocking me to the ground as Derek finally passes out. I let out a loud gasp as I land on my injured side, feeling a thick warmth spread up my side as my earlier injuries re-open and start bleeding heavily under the bandages.
I sit up slowly, working a hand under my shirt to hold pressure on the wet bandage while I watch Scott wrap the chains I had bought for his second full moon around Derek's unconscious form. He had shifted back to his human form in Scott's grasp and I crawl over to him, stroking his relaxed face and resting his head on my lap while Scott finished.
I look up at Scott, trying not to project the extent of my emotions on my face.
"Why... Why did he do that?"
Scott shook his head. "I don't know, Stiles." He shifts his gaze to Isaac, who I just now realized was staring at my side with a concerning facial expression I couldn't recognize. I quickly shift so that my affected side is out of sight and go back to running my fingers though the stiff lines of his stubble.
"Maybe..." Scott looks down at Derek questioningly for a few moments before he shifts back on his heels decisively. He squats in front of me and leans down over Derek until their noses are practically touching and deeply inhales.
Scott's eyes flash an intense shade of yellow, much brighter than their usual wolfed-out color. He jumps back quickly and anchors himself to the floor across my room, deeply breathing and clutching my rug as his eyes slowly shift back to their deep coffee color.
"Stiles... you said he shifted after he sniffed the cushion?" He kept panting through his words, still attempting to calm himself down as I looked back at him with a mix of confusion and concern etched on my face.
"Yeah... what about it?"
He looks at Derek's face, then back up at mine with trepidation.
"They must have dosed it with something when they were in the loft. Something strong enough to completely overtake Derek like that. I smelled some of it on his face... It made me want to rip out your throat." He shudders before continuing. "They must have known he would follow the scent around as it got stronger, leading him right to the pillow. They wanted him to kill you."
I feel my eyes widen as I look down at the soft, gentle face under my fingertips, unable to grasp the concept of Derek causing me any harm anymore. He used to threaten me all the time, but for weeks now he becomes distraught over anything as small as a bruise if he inflicts it. Fear begins welling up in my stomach. Not for myself, but for this beautiful man in my lap when he wakes up and finds out what he tried to do. What he almost succeeded in doing. He's never going to forgive himself.
The thought of what he will feel is causing me to feel actual physical pain. It slams into the inside of my ribcage like a sledgehammer, and I lean down to hold him tight as if that would actually alleviate the pain. It only gets worse as I feel the room start to spin, a cold feeling beginning to spread up my extremities and into my torso.
