Scarlet

chapter one

Stiles is tired.

He is so, so tired.

Between fighting the supernatural, lying constantly to his dad at home, and trying to keep up with schoolwork, he is exhausted. He feels worn down, overwhelmed. Under-appreciated.

Scott is still pining over Allison, trying to make things work with her which means no time for Stiles, his best friend.

Jackson and Lydia are in the same boat, making Stiles give up on his ten year crush on her a while back when he realized she truly does love Jackson, though he will always think of Lydia with great admiration and that she deserves way more than that douche nozzle.

Besides, he has someone else in mind. Had, anyway.

Danny only tolerates him because Danny's a nice guy.

Erica, Issac and Boyd are back with Peter and Derek.

And Derek?

Stiles could feel the first pinpricks behind his eyes at the reminder of the Alpha werewolf, and hastily blinks them away to concentrate on the road.

Derek said he wasn't pack, and it had hurt far worse than it should have.

~*~*~*~*~*~

They'd been arguing the moment he stepped out of his jeep before the pack was due to meet for their weekly training session that Stiles wasn't invited to. Again. Which was fine, considering - you know - he was human, so he usually just invites himself along.

After running the Alpha pack out of town and then defeating their latest creature of the week - in which Stiles' favorite limited edition Batman shirt ends up in shreds (he wanted to cry the moment it happened, and a second after that Derek had torn the creature's throat out right in front of him, with his teeth) - Derek had stepped up training for the betas to extreme levels.

Stiles hadn't liked that, especially when Scott - who had finally agreed to and accepted being part of Derek's pack - had come to his house looking like he'd been through a fight with a horde of evil possessed lawnmowers, run over by a 18 wheeler, and then that same 18 wheeler had backed up to run him over again before parking on top of him after that week's pack meeting (which Stiles couldn't attend to due to the ever increasing mountain of homework he had to finish).

"How the hell is this helping them? 'Oh, let's just shred them up on my claws! Break their bones repeatedly with my mighty furry fists of fury, and make them heal slowly in agony on the forest floor to make them stronger!' Yeah, okay. What kind of half assed training regime is that? At this rate, you won't have betas to train!"

"Shut up, Stiles. What would you know about pack dynamics?" Derek had growled back, fists clenching at his sides as Stiles continued his angry tirade despite the fact that the wolf's green eyes began to bleed red, and the muscles of his arms bulged out enticingly...No! Now was not the time for ogling your new forever-shirtless love interest, Stilinski, so focus!

God, why is it always the impossibly unreachable ones he falls head over ass for?

He shakes his head and gets his head back in the game.

"I know damn well plenty! Apparently more than you do because you'd know that packs, both wolves and werewolves, need more than violent force and strong arming to survive. They need care and nurturing. They need support, a kind hand," he flails his hands violently, "They need to bond, dammit!"

"They are bonding!" Derek had roared back, his jaws snapping and his fangs extended menacingly.

"No, not like this, not enough to grow, to thrive," he had said undeterred, though Derek could probably hear the jackrabbit beating of his heart, "They need to bond with you. You know, since your their leader and all? The one they should feel they can turn to in times of crisis? Ring a bell?" He runs a hand through his hair in frustration. "Look, they need your help, your guidance, but this isn't the way to stabilize and establish a good pack, Derek, and you know it. Even Jackson and Scott are starting to get along. You need to be a team player and open up in order for this to work, as much as they are for each other!"