Hell's Children

Chapter 7: The Real Alpha

WARNINGS: Mentions C-PSTD symptoms

Stiles set his cellphone down as he heard footsteps approaching.

"Hey, sorry for the... Oh, what's up, Derek," Stiles asked.

"Coming to check on you," Derek said, "You went silent on the pack."

"Right. I got caught up and lost track of time," Stiles said, glancing at his alarm clock.

"Are you doing alright? I mean, I know you're still recovering from the whole Nogistune thing," Derek said, stepping closer.

"I'm fine, Der. I just have to... You okay," Stiles asked, looking over at him.

"Your scent changed. Something about you is different," Derek said, leaning his face closer to his.

"Uh, I ate some chips earlier if that's what you smell," Stiles chuckled.

"No. Something else..."

Stiles's eyes darted to his lips as he came closer. He was inches from his face. If he moved any closer, they would be kissing.

They were both adults. Sure, Stiles was younger than Derek. But he was still 20 years old. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to confess that he secretly wanted Derek. No... He craved him on a level he's never felt before. Maybe Derek felt that hunger just like he did.

"Derek," Stiles whispered, his hands sliding up his arm.

He tilted his head and...

"Hey, Stiles, are you... Holy fuck. I didn't realize you had company," Scott said, freezing at threshold.

Derek backed off and lowered his head. Stiles felt himself screaming internally.

"We were just... Talking. Right, Derek," Stiles chuckled.

"I came to check on him," Derek said.

"Check on him? Very believable," Scott sassed.

Stiles rolled his eyes while grabbing a suitcase. He began adding clothes inside as Derek left the room.

"Where are you going," Scott asked.

"New York to visit some relatives. I also need a break from here, y'know," Stiles asked.

Scott's eyes softened. He had been handling so much that he forgot to check on Stiles.

"Are you doing okay," Scott asked, his voice softer than usual.

"I'm fine," Stiles said.

I'm fine... Stiles was always fine. No matter how much trauma he endured. No matter how much pain weighed on his chest everyday. No matter how many nightmares haunted his dreams. No matter how many times he cried himself to sleep every night. If he could still fucking breathe, then he was fine.

"You can talk to me, y'know? I know I'm busy a lot but..."

"Scotty, I'm alright. I swear," Stiles said, flashing a reassuring smile.

"How long are you gonna be gone," Scott asked.

"Hard to say. I'll text you though. Keep you updated," Stiles said, rummaging through his closet.

"What about your Jeep? I'm not sure he'll make it," Scott said, trying to find an excuse to keep his best friend with him.

"I'm leaving Roscoe here," Stiles replied.

A twinge of guilt rushed through Scott. He never leaves that Jeep behind. He sat down on his bed as a worried expression rested on his face. Stiles took notice and sat down beside him.

"You alright," Stiles asked.

"Are you upset with me," Scott asked, assuming he was the cause of his sudden vacation.

"No. Why," Stiles asked, blinking in confusion.

"You're leaving us behind. Your pack..."

"My pack? Aren't you the true alpha here," Stiles snorted.

Scott gave Stiles a knowing look. They both knew the truth about the pack. If Stiles wasn't there, they would fall apart. He was the spark that kept them alive. They needed him... Scott needed him.

"Scott, I'm not leaving you guys. I'm just clearing my head and seeing the world outside of Beacon Hills," Stiles reassured.

"Will we be able to visit," Scott asked.

"Yes... Eventually. I'll let you know when you can," Stiles said, knowing how clingy they can get.

"What about calling," Scott asked.

"Yes, you can call," Stiles said.

"What about..."

"Scott! Two days is all I'm asking. Can you handle being alone for two days," Stiles asked.

"A lot can happen in two days," Scott said, purposely pushing his buttons.

"You'll live," Stiles sassed, standing up, "But, for fuck sake, don't burn the town down while I'm gone."

"No promises," Scott teased.

Stiles rolled his eyes and continued packing.