The Hell You Came From [Derek/FemStiles]

Hurt You

Stiles is pleasantly surprised to find that indeed the wolf does let her clean his wound for him. And afterwards, he even lets her dab a little antiseptic cream on it. But when Scott tries to approach with the rope of bandage at the ready, the wolf lets out a warning snarl. And so, Stiles takes the bandage from her friend before getting to work on wrapping the wolf’s shoulder.

Scott stares back at the wolf with a curious frown as the wolf goes back to blankly staring at him. “Why doesn’t he like me? I’ve never met any animal who doesn’t like me.” Scott pouts slightly as the wolf just continues to stare at him. “He’s not afraid of me.” Scott feels like the wolf doesn’t want his scent on him. Scott narrows his eyes, subtly scents the wolf, but finds nothing out of the ordinary. (Werewolves may know how to hide themselves, but kitsunes–which Scott so happens to be–can see passed almost anything.)

“Dude, he’s probably just still in a little shock. I did hit him with my Jeep...and that was after whoever did whatever the hell they did to him.” Stiles reasons as she ties the bandage securely and gives the wolf a light pat on the head. She grins when he turns his head to face her and slowly blinks up at her. Stiles slowly blinks back, her grin widening when his tail wags a couple of times and his top lip pulls back in a light grimace.

Scott chuckles, noting the wolf’s nose twitching in Stiles’ direction.

Stiles grins over at Scott, face lit up with pure childlike excitement. “He’s communicating with me!” She hisses quietly (just about keeping her squeals contained.) “Can’t you do your foxy eye thing and see if he’s microchipped or something?”

Scott snorts amusedly. “Why? You wanna keep him?” He jokes, sarcasm filling his tone.

“Um...”

Scott’s eyes instantly widen in mild horror. “Uhhh, no.”

“Why not?” Stiles whines.

“It’s a wolf!” Scott squeaks, “And a really big one...” He adds, staring warily at the animal.

The wolf simply continues to stare at Stiles.

Stiles only isn’t laughing because she’s far too busy pouting as she argues very valiantly back with; “So?”

Scott blinks.

Stiles sighs. “If he was gonna hurt me, he would’ve done so by now. And yeah, I know it’s a wolf, but I can’t just leave him like this.”

“I...” Scott doesn’t even know what to say. He knows he can’t win an argument with Stiles, even on his best day. (The girl just knows how to turn the tables on you without you even realising until it’s too late.)

“Come ooon... Look at that face.” Stiles cooes, hands loosely framing the wolf’s face.

The wolf looks at Stiles before connecting eyes with Scott again.

Scott stares back at the wolf, then, sighs loudly in defeat as he looks back at Stiles. “If you get mauled or eaten by this thing, I’m gonna deny I was ever here when you brought him in. If your dad asks me, I’m gonna say you stole my keys from me.”

Stiles breaks out in a broad grin. “Fair enough.”

***
It turns out that the wolf already had his own plans–as soon as she opens the driver’s side of her Jeep up, the wolf hops up, walks over the console and sits himself comfortably in the passenger’s seat.

Stiles scoffs teasingly at him. “Cheeky furball.”

Scott pokes his head just inside to see the wolf simply waiting patiently for her. Scott laughs, shakes his head. “Just because he isn’t chipped, doesn’t mean nobody is looking for him.” Scott tells as he takes her in a one-armed hug. “Just be careful, OK? I’ll keep my ears open for anything.”

“Scott, relax. This town is a haven for people like you. It’s why we moved here, remember?” Stiles gives his middle a quick squeeze before jumping up into her Jeep.

“I know, I just...” Scott smiles sheepishly, “You can never be too careful, y’know?”

Stiles nods, sends him a reassuring smile. “Stay safe, bro.”

“You, too.”

Stiles chuckles at his pointed look before starting up the engine and pulling out of the parking lot.

After a few minutes of silence, Stiles turns to find the wolf staring at her. She gulps silently, nervous, but not afraid. She turns her attention back to the road for obvious fricking reasons (she doesn’t feel like a horrific repeat) and clears her throat.

“Y’know, if you were a werewolf, this would probably be a lot easier for both of us, ‘cause then, you could just shift and tell me who hurt you.” Stiles’ smile falters before she adds, “Before I ran you over, that is...” She grumbles the words to herself, glaring at the road ahead.

Until something lovely happens...

The wolf slowly shifts closer to her, then, lays down on his seat before resting his head over her right knee and letting his (still green) eyes fall shut.

And if after that happens, Stiles drives just a little slower to keep him comfortable (comfortably with her) for just that little bit longer, then...who even cares?

(Just as long as she doesn’t break the slow speed limit, of course...)