You Know What That Was For! (A STRREK Fanficiton)

Chapter 11

Stiles' POV

I'm still in Derek's lap when he pulls up outside the house. He manoeuvres us out of the car and carries me bridal style into the house where Peter is waiting anxiously.

"What happened?" He asks when he sees me in Derek's arms.

"Later, medical room" Derek tells him, sweeping past him and down the back stairs to the basement. I'm placed on the medical bed and Derek unties my bow-tie and begins unbuttoning my shirt, stopping two buttons in. "Can I? I can smell blood." He tells me, I only nod, still feeling nothing at all. Peter is beside me with a medical bag open, pulling out wipes and other things. Derek slides my shirt off my shoulders and I feel his fingers poke at the skin on my hips. I look down and see five dark bruises on both sides of my hips, where Duke had grabbed me before. Derek then holds my wrists together I can see that the one that was fractured is swollen and bruised where Duke has squeezed it.

"It's on my leg" I tell Derek, who is trying to find the source of blood that he can smell.

"What is?" He asks, eyes flashing red. His chest rising and falling quickly as he fights off his wolf, his anger. I want to tell him to calm down but opt out of that and instead hop from the table to remove my trousers. I undo my belt and quickly pop the button and slide down the zip. I wiggle from my shoes and let the trousers fall to the floor. I step out of them and turn so that I can show Derek the wound he is searching for. He kneels and I feel his hands take my calf to hold it steady.

"Is that a cigarette burn?" He snarls.

"It better fucking not be." We all turn at the new voice in the room. There is my Dad, standing in full uniform, hand resting in his gun as he looks at me from across the room. It looks bad. I'm stood in my boxers and socks being prodded by Derek, looking very dishevelled with Peter and his bag of medical stuff.

"I can explain!" I yell, pushing Derek out of the way and running to my Dad. I grab onto his biceps and shake him a little so he will look at me. "It wasn't Derek it was Duke. The boy from school. He attacked me at the dance in his car and tried to- to- I- I got away and Derek saved me and it's not Derek's fault, it really isn't. It was self defence. Please Dad, you've got to believe me, it's not Derek's fault!" I take a deep breath and stare at my Dad who only stares back. Then he hugs me. Hard. Holding me against his chest with one hand on my head, caressing it gently.

"It's okay kiddo. I love you son." Then I am crying again. I grip onto my Dad, scared of letting go. It's been so long since I've seen him, so long since I've hugged him.

"I love you too" I say, but it's muffled as I speak into his shoulder, but he must hear because he squeezes me a little tighter.

"Come on, let Derek treat that burn" he mutters, patting my back a few times before pulling away and relinquishing me back to my alpha. Derek has me sit on the bed and lean on my side so he can get to the burn on the back of my leg. I wipe the tears from my eyes and Peter hands me a tissue for my nose, I give him a small smile in thanks which he returns. The burn is in a perfect circle, deep and red and oozing slightly. Derek puts something on it that stings and then dresses it with some gauze and tape, scowling the whole time he does it.

"So you punched the kid in self defence Derek?" My Dad asks, taking out his pen and notepad.

"Sort of." Derek grunts, moving to stand next to the bed. "Boyd texted me saying Stiles was leaving the dance and that he looked worried so I thought I'd better go and make sure he's okay. Plus he was supposed to be grounded and the condition was the dance and then home. But when I got there Stiles ran right into me and he was panicked. Hysterical really. I calmed him down but then Duke showed up telling me to get away from Stiles because he was "his". The Pack showed up then and Duke tried to hit me, out of reflex, I dodged him and head-butted him in the face. It was self-defence. The Pack can vouch for that."