Devil of Wolves (Sterek)

Chapter Ten (Fallen Too Far)

"'Cause it's on again, off again, love you like oxygen. You don't know what I'd do for you."

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I listened to "Jacob and the Stone" while writing this so that should explain everything, enjoy!

^^^^^

Derek lay in the dark for hours, staring at the ceiling. The only thing occupying his focus was the constant flutter of a heartbeat from the room down the hall, and he listened intently; waiting for it to beat faster and signal that Stiles might need help waking up.

Despite the exhaustion gnawing at his bones he wouldn't rest, his wolf was too worried - prowling in his mind like some sort of watchful beast.

Stiles' nightmares had been getting worse. More frequent. Derek wanted so badly to plant himself in Stiles room, just to be closer, and watch over the boy as his instincts went haywire and he couldn't help worrying.

But as much as he tried to focus on the heartbeat down the hall, memories that plagued him every night, that battled his sleep, were back again too.

Memories of fire and pain. In the shadows, all he could hear was her voice, the screams of his family members, and the pull to walk through the woods toward the house that lay in shambles. He shouldn't do that to himself, shouldn't dwell on the past, but this town had already sunk its vice-like claws into his mind.

^

Beacon Hills - 2005

Flickering ribbons of light made their way through the Hale house. The wisps of silver-gray smoke curled their way through the thick, hazy air, flowing through the place—seeping into every room.

A profuse scent combined with rich pine and smoldering wires writhed under the door and filled the upstairs bedrooms. With each breath, the stench slowly caused more damage.

The odor crept into Derek's nose, it was what woke him from his fitful slumber. Basketball practice had made him more tired than usual, but as the cloud seeped through the small crevice under the door and the smoke permeated the air, he woke almost immediately.

The scent of wood being scorched into nothing but ash, and the shouts from downstairs, "Derek! Derek, wake up!" fueled his departure from his bed.

He quickly opened the bedroom door but was greeted by the roaring flames.

The coughing was as instant as the tears falling from his eyes and it felt like the fire was tickling the insides of his sensitive werewolf nose. Derek rushed past the wall of intense heat that threatened to burn his lungs and scorch his skin.

He ran to the stairs right as he saw his mother run to the bottom steps.

Derek could hardly smell her normally calm, flowery scent over the spreading fire that burnt everything around him.

Talia's eyes were wide and fearful. Derek had never seen her so scared and he almost froze in place as the flames threatened to lick his skin from behind.

"Derek!" She yelled, but it was followed abruptly with a harsh cough and she beckoned him hurriedly. "Quickly, we must go. Now!"

Derek knew he needed to, lest he wanted to be burnt, but as he whipped his head around towards his room once last time, the wood cracked as he watched as the reddish-orange flames touched the blue and white walls and door, the posters of his favorite bands. He knew the hot flame would soon destroy everything he held dear.

Without much thinking, he shot down the stairs, away from the rising smoke that had a vice grip on his lungs, and was about to run into his mom's arms.