Leave Me In Ruins

You were right

Patience wasn't necessarily Derek's strongest suit, but he liked to think he had more patience than the average person. However, he'd never had less of it sitting in the waiting room of Deaton's clinic. Stiles was once again in the vet's capable hands while he waited for any news. The pack was scattered around him, each in their own state of worry. It had been nearly two hours since Derek had brought Stiles in, and the anticipation was suffocating.

The sheriff was on the phone barking orders at the deputy on the other end. "I want whoever did this found. I don't care what you have to do or how many resources you have to use."

Derek stood and hesitated before placing a hand on the Sheriff's shoulder. "Noah, they're doing everything they—" his words were cut off as the Sheriff turned and pulled Derek into a tight hug. He didn't move for a few seconds before slowly putting his arms around Noah.

"Thank you for always looking out for him."

Guilt ate at Derek's insides as he thought of the fact that if he'd done a better job, Stiles wouldn't be in this position.

Noah pulled back and cleared his throat, blinking away threatening tears. "I wish he'd have stayed out of this place." He scrubbed a hand down his face.

"Beacon Hills?" Scott asked.

"He deserves better than to die on a vet's table." Noah shook his head.

Derek smelled the anger and frustration on him.

"Better here, surrounded by those he loves fighting for him, than somewhere else alone." Malia shrugged.

Noah dropped his head. "Yeah, you're right. I just hate it."

"We all do, but he's strong, and if he didn't want to be here, he wouldn't be," Allison offered.

Noah gave a thankful smile just as the door to the back room opened. Deaton stepped out with a soft smile on his face that melted the tension in the room.

"So, what'd I miss?" Stiles asked, appearing beside Deaton. He looked lively. His eyes were bright and shining, and his face was no longer deathly pale. He didn't look like a strong breeze could knock him over anymore.

Noah had him pulled into a suffocating hug in an instant. No words were said, but Stiles responded anyway, "I know. But I'm okay, Dad."

Derek hung back as the others crowded into his space, relieved to see him well again.

"You don't even look like you were sick," Scott pointed out.

"Once I was able to untether the magic, his body was no longer in danger. His vitals came back. And with the poison gone, he's as healthy as he can be," Deaton explained.

Derek tried not to collapse under the weight of his relief. It was almost dizzying. The anticipation had been too much. But Stiles stood in front of him, alive and well.

Stiles' eyes met Derek's, and the relief faded into regret.

"Apparently, you saved my life. Thank you."

Derek wanted to pull Stiles into him. Inhale his scent. Kiss his full lips. Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "You were right. I'm sorry we didn't listen to you."

Stiles stiffened.

"Deaton believes that with the new information found in your blood, the missing people are being used as sacrifices to give life back to the nemeton."

"My dream." Lydia perked up.

Derek nodded.

"So it's all connected." Isaac glanced at Stiles, who didn't look surprised.

"You were right," Scott sighed, placing a hand on Stiles' shoulder.

"He always is," Derek said, his eyes not leaving Stiles. He wished he could tell what he was thinking. The only scent he was getting was worry. Why was he worried?

"Dad." Stiles turned away from Derek. "Please tell me you found Adrian."

Derek dropped his eyes to the tile floor. Of course. Adrian.

Noah gave Stiles an apologetic look.

Stiles ran his hands through his hair, tugging at the already dishevled strands. "If whoever did this really did use Adrian as a replacement, that means he's likely still alive. We have to find him. There could be others alive too."

"Stiles, I have every deputy out there looking for this guy."

"No." Stiles shook his head. "We don't need to be looking for the person who did this. We need to be looking for the nemeton. If he's trying to give life back to it, I bet you that's where he's taking them."

"Maybe, but we don't know for sure." Allison shrugged. "What if it's like the Darach, and he's taking them to specific places? Shouldn't we split up, look everywhere?"

Stiles shook his head again. "When he was leading me into the woods, he told me he wanted to show me something. The direction he was taking me, there's nothing out there but woods."

Scott shook his head. "But what if you're wrong? The nemeton isn't easy to find, and we could be wasting time trying to find it. I mean, isn't it a little on the money to take the bodies there?"

Stiles threw his hands up with an exasperated huff. The smell of frustration and anger hit Derek's nose.

"Didn't we just learn our lesson about questioning Stiles?" Derek cut in sharply. All eyes fell on him. "When is he ever wrong?"

Scott's shoulder's dropped. The rest of the pack nodded.

Stiles gave an appreciative smile to Derek.

"I'm sorry we didn't listen before, but we're listening now." Derek took a step towards Stiles. His fingers itched to touch him, to hold him.

Stiles bit down on his lower lip, holding back a smile.

"What do we do?" Isaac asked, looking at Stiles.

"We've been so focused on trying to decipher Lydia's dream that we haven't even considered taking it at face value. Lydia often finds the bodies, but only when she's not trying. So, instead of trying to trance her to decipher the dream. Why don't we trance her and just see what happens."

Lydia pursed her lips. All eyes were on her now. She huffed, "I hate finding the bodies."

Stiles put his hands on her shoulders. "I know, but this time you could be saving people by doing so. We don't know how many could still be alive."

With a toss of her hair, Lydia straightened her posture. "Fine. Someone get me a candle."

"We've already tried that," Malia moaned.

"She's right. And you don't do well with a lot of pressure. And having everyone staring at you for answers is a lot of pressure. I have a better idea." Stiles grinned.

Noah scrubbed a hand over his face while the pack exchanged unsure glances. Everyone just wanted Stiles to go home and rest, but they were all too guilt-ridden to argue. He would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it just a little.

*AN*
A smaller update for you. Next one is gonna be a bit longer.