"You Don't Know Me" || Derek Hale

21.

Derek pulls up to the Beacons Crossing Home, which is a long-term care facility. "What are we doing here?" Scott asks as we step out of the car.

Derek walks toward the building, and I follow him. Once we're inside, Scott and I follow him down the hallway. He approaches a door and opens it. The first thing I see is a man sitting in a wheelchair. Derek walks over to him, and Scott and I exchange glances. "Who is he?" I question softly.

"My uncle. Peter Hale," Derek responds making my expression soften.

"Is he like you? A werewolf?"

"He was. Now he's barely even human," Derek starts. "Six years ago, my sister and I were at school. Our house caught fire. Eleven people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor."

"So, what makes you so sure that they set the fire?" Scott asks.

"'Cause they're the only ones that knew about us," Derek answers.

"Then they had a reason," Scott states.

"Like what?" I cross my arms. Scott's quiet.

"You tell me what justifies this." Derek turns his uncle around to reveal that the other side of his face is obscured by heavy burn scars. "They say they'll only kill an adult with absolute proof. But there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that fire. This is what they do. And it's what Allison will do."

"What are you doing? How did you get in here?" a woman asks from the doorway.

"We were just leaving," I reply.

~ ~ ~

As Derek and I are sitting in his car, I speak. "I'm sorry about what happened to your family. I knew it was bad, but I didn't exactly know what happened, and now that I do... I feel even worse." Derek's quiet. "And I'm sorry about Scott. I have no idea why he would even think about trusting those people. I don't care if he might think you're the biggest asshole on Earth. Just because they're seemingly "nice" doesn't mean you can trust them," I sigh. "What they did to you is reason enough not to trust them. They almost killed you," I continue as I glance out the window. "I don't care if some of your family were werewolves or not. That doesn't justify murder."

"You're not much like your brother, are you?" Derek asks.

I look over at him. "No, I guess I'm not," I shake my head before chuckling.

"What?"

"Stiles has this... ridiculous theory that my judgement is being clouded because I... I like you," I admit.

He raises his brows. "Really?"

"Yeah," I chuckle. "He asked me if there was something going on between us just because I was at your house the other day."

"He's an idiot," he comments.

"Yeah he is, but he's family, so...," I shrug. It's quiet for a while. "Can I say something... completely out of the blue? And you don't have to respond if you don't want to."

"Sure."

"I--I just want you to know that... even if you feel like you're alone, you're not. Not anymore. You've got me now." He's quiet for a while, and I shift nervously. "I'm sorry if that was out of line or--"

Suddenly, he leans over and pushes his lips against mine. I'm too shocked to react which causes him to pull away. "I'm sorry," Derek sighs. "I probably shouldn't have done that."

"Maybe not... but you should do it again," I suggest. His brows raise, but he doesn't move. I smile. "Okay, then... I will." I lean over to him, and he meets me halfway.

His lips press against mine, and I immediately melt under his touch.

I can't believe this is happening right now.