The Hale Pack of Idiots

Ch 3

DEREK POV
"Are you sure?"

"Derek, I think I've known my own kid long enough to know that this isn't normal. I thought you could smell emotions and stuff! How come no one has noticed it?" Derek paused for a moment thinking of why he hadn't it bothered him that yes, he didn't notice anything wrong with Stiles lately. "Or is it just that you and that pack of rugrats just don't seem to care."

"That's not true!" The growl in my voice seemed to roll into my tone on its own because seriously?! I've risked my ass time and time again to make sure Stiles stayed safe and alive and I'm being questioned for it? The rest of the pack, I'll admit, treats Stiles like shit despite that fact that they unknowingly love him to pieces. "Stiles is one of the most important members of our pack, *sigh* it just seems like everyone has gotten to taking advantage of that."

"Well that better change before Melissa finds out because I may have a gun, several in fact! But Melissa has the 'Momma McCall Stare of a Thousand Guilty Souls' to make every werewolf in Beacon Hills, Peter included, crawl on their bellies in shame." His words sent a terrified shiver through me because that was a completely accurate statement which, if put in that situation, would make me rather be shot to death.

"I'll see to it Sheriff."

"You'd better."

With that, John hung up and I sat back in the kitchen chair I was sitting at while helping coordinate the packs allowances and mulled over the guilt and anger I felt at the situation. Because seriously, Stiles did everything for the idiots in this pack, myself included. So why would everyone treat him like....

Oh f/ck, like I treated him.

Slamming him into doors and walls, threatening him, no wonder he thinks no one cares.

And like that, I can feel my body moving on its own. My thoughts racing as I shift and start running through the November night to get to Stiles.

How could we let this happen? My mate, how could I let you feel so hurt and not even notice.

The guilt of the several images of Stiles being shoved and manhandled that flashed through his head were nothing compared to the memories of when he'd pinned and hurt Stiles himself.... Slamming his head into his steering wheel even. The memory making him think of how in the name of everything alive he didn't wonder at the time about if the poor human, HIS poor human may have had a concussion from that...

What have I done to you?

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Took me a while to update with school and everything. Happy Labor Day for those in the US!