Changing Patterns

• 11 •

"Talking" 'Thinking...
Important
_writing_
—
—
—
________________________________

Derek rolled over on his side, kicking lightly at his blankets as his head pounded like he'd drunken three two gallon whiskey bottles at a rager. With a huff the man pulled his second pillow over his head and groaned loudly, his ears picking up on the smallest things at the moment and making it harder to think, and calm down. Another huff as the alpha tossed aside his pillow and laid out sprawling on the bed like a starfish replica. He closed his eyes and listened, this has happened before, his senses going into overdrive, Scott deals with it time to time again as well. The power of an alpha not fully being released, or used before the body lays down for rest. Derek huffed and listened, closing his eyes to imagine what he heard.

Shuffling from the closest room, Liam, as he smacked his lips tiredly and readjusted. The bathroom sink- no shower, god he hated that thing. The drip was obnoxiously annoying on nights like these and it desperately needed fixing. The creak of the floor boards as the AC kicks on for the next five minutes to cool the house down slightly. With all the doors closed it'll get colder then needed. Liam rolling a second time and probably excessively close to the edge. Stiles, his sound used to be booming loud- only know its muffled deeply by the fresh soundproofing. Derek snaps his head to the side as a door swings open, creak in the top hinge, corner sliding against the floor a smidge at being to low on the outside.

Foot steps. Bare foot, silent- too silent, calm breathing, a small resilient groan, scent- covered by something, hard to tell. Derek settles on Allison walking to the right wings bathroom with a small yawn. Derek's ears jump again, this time to a yell, almost unheard- it's twisted and uncomfortable. Derek sits up in an instant, keeping his ears trained of Stiles's yelling, the small thrash that easily can be heard. Derek is out of his room and down the hall to the door, swinging it open and burning his hand horribly on the mountain ash affected doorknob that Allison had added. Stiles's yelling is abruptly louder, thick, terrified. Derek's nose crunches up the bridge as he barges into the room.

The horrible smell of fear, terror, of depression, anxiety, and desperation, blood as his bandages bleed through in small spots. His wrists and upper arm. Derek reached the bed in an instant, hands finding the humans shoulders as his eyes are tightly shut. He's still asleep as Derek pulls himself forward using stiles for balance and getting to the humans side where he wraps his arms over Stiles's shoulders and lays a knee on his lap. The screaming had dialed down, Allison stood shocked and worried in the doorway and stiles know thrashed and clawed with his dull blunt nails at Derek's arms holding him. His eyes shoot open and he tries to scramble away. Derek holds tight and quickly speaks.

"Stiles! Stiles, it's me, it's me, Derek. Shhh." Stiles's head snaps toward the older man and he stares a moment before bowing his head into Derek's shoulder fighting a sob. His strangled breath and chocking sound send the werewolf in high alert, calming slightly when stiles pulls himself closer and tightening the wolf in a bruising hug. Derek wraps his hands around stiles, sticking one into his hair on the back of his neck and the other around to reach his shoulder.

    "I-I- couldn't breath..." stiles whispers. Derek blink and turns his head to Allison, nodding for her to leave, she reluctantly complied after a minute. "And he was there, and I- shit! I haven't had one like this is years..." stiles curses himself for having the terror, Derek only squeezes tighter.

    "No one, will touch you, we will never let that happen again. The nogitsune is gone, locked away." The clarification slowly brought Stiles's breathing back to normal. Though his hands and body still shook in Derek's arms, at that the werewolf didn't let go of stiles until he fell asleep. Laying to the side and keeping his arm under Stiles's head as if a pillow, the other moving to his hip as Derek laid lightly, watching over his human. Derek fell asleep soon after, his breathing matching Stiles's instantly.