Teen Wolf Imagines

I thought you were a myth pt.7- Derek Hale

The last way you expected to spend your Sunday began with a jolt.
Literally.
"Dogpile!" Some random voice cried, before you and a still snoring Derek were covered with your laughing pack members. A groan emanated from where you guessed Derek to be in the mass of limbs, the mattress bouncing slightly still from the initial impact.
"If you all don't get off in the next five seconds, I will-"
"You will what?" Stiles' voice challenged you back teasingly.
"One."
"Ooooo, now she's counting," Stiles mocked, and you heard a few small laughs.
"Two."
"Stiles, I think we should back off, man," Scott said, and you felt a few bodies agree and remove their weight from the pile.
"Three."
"Oh, come on, what is she going to do?" Stiles asked in a voice that held no trace of fear.
You smirked. "When I get to five, you'll find out."
The remaining bodies went stiff before scrambling away, Stiles grumbling something about empty threats, although he smelled slightly of fear now.
"Deaton wants to meet with Y/N at his office today," Scott said, looking at a text on his phone. You must have looked nervous, because Scott was quick to assure you they were all coming with you.
"What, do I have my own backup dancers now or something?" You mused quietly, faintly smiling.
"No," Stiles said. "Isaac, Lydia, and Liam are backup singers. Everyone else dances. I just choreograph, although, I do a mean sprinkler."
No one responded for a moment until you finally broke the ice. "The sprinkler, huh? Well, I do a mean moonwalk...."
"Really?!" Stiles was ecstatic.
"No," Derek answered for you, laughing. "It was a moon joke. Werewolf, shifting, moonwalk...."
Everyone groaned. You shrugged. "What? I grew up surrounded by wolves, okay? Imagine bad dad jokes times a thousand, and all about wolfy things."
"Well, thanks to you," Stiles gestured your way, his tone sarcastic, "we no longer have to imagine." You threw a pillow at him. "Hey! Don't be such a Sourwolf."
You looked at Derek, his eyebrows already raised at you. "I am so sorry. I will never call you that again. However fitting it may be."
Derek laughed. "Yeah, I'll believe that when I see it."
Stiles laughed sarcastically and threw the pillow back at you, and you caught it with ease. "Well, I am off to get donuts for us all," he held up Derek's credit card, and Derek just groaned and fell back against his pillow, covering his face with his hands and muttering things only wolfy ears could hear.
A few snickers went around to those that heard, and you smacked Derek's arm, making him look at you through his fingers. "That's not nice!" But you laughed as you said it, and could see the crinkle of Derek's eyes, revealing the hidden smile under his hands.
"I will check with my dad on the way out to see what's been going on. Make sure we have an all clear to go to Deaton's." He pointed at you. "But, I still think you should go incognito, regardless. The least wolfy thing you own."
"Stiles. It's not like my shirt says, 'I'm a werewolf'."
"Yeah, but walking beside Pookie Bear over here, you may as well have a shirt with a giant arrow that says, 'I'm with wolfboy'."
"Just go get the damn donuts, Stiles!" You and Derek said in unison.
The rest of the pack had dispersed around the loft. Apparently the girls had bought themselves a few things as well yesterday and went to change. Hopping out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen, determined to make coffee. Writing names on the glasses, you heard footsteps coming down the steps from the room Peter had hijacked from you last night.
"Peter," you set your voice to a tone of authority. "Want any coffee this morning? You get the fuschia marker." Looking up with a smirk you were greeted by Scott at the bottom of the steps looking worriedly at Derek, before looking to you.
"Peter's gone."
Xxx
The words echoed in your mind as you began to hyperventilate, dropping the mug with his name written on it, and seeing it fall in slow motion.
A hand caught it before it shattered, and set it on the counter, before lightly taking your arms in its grasp. Looking up, you were met with Derek's eyes, his mouth moving, but you could hardly hear him.
You glanced around the loft, muttering, the living room filling with everyone else, watching you as you stared blankly over Derek's shoulder, meeting their eyes, but not really seeing them. "He's gone. He's gonna kill me. He's gonna tell them where I am. Where we are. They will kill us all." You looked up into Derek's eyes, his voice finally reaching your ears, but you ignored it. "They're all gonna die because of me! Everyone I love dies! Why? Why, Derek?! What did I ever do to deserve everything that has happened?!"
The flash of blue eyes calmed you down, but your name being yelled by an Alpha and the bright red eyes that matched it finally broke you from the vicious cycle, making you flash your own eyes briefly at Scott.
You began pacing. Derek grabbed your shoulders, stopping you, making you look at him. "Y/N, this is a complete reversal from the last two days. What is wrong? Tell me. Let me help. Let us help."
Your voice was small and shaky. "Your family. My family. Allison. Erica. Boyd. They are all dead because of this. Of what we are. What I am. The stupid True Alpha curse bringing every hunter and his brother along to try and kill us just to brag about it later. I put anyone I talk to in danger, simply because of what and who I am." Your voice grew, and you felt tears coming. "Peter caused so much of that, I know, but still. I have watched too many people die in my life. I refuse to watch any more, and here I am, practically leading everyone in this room to slaughter!"
"Blaming yourself for deaths by proximity is going to get you nowhere, Y/N. You don't have to let go. They'll always be with you." You heard Scott say from behind you, repeating what you had told him last night, and suddenly the necklace Lydia had given you yesterday was gently placed around your neck. Turning, you found yourself looking slightly up to meet Scott's eyes. "We're on your side, Y/N." He smiled faintly. "We're always on your side."
You looked around the room, and only saw concern for you on everybody's faces. No fear, no dread, no wishing they had turned and walked away after finding out who you were. No, you saw something akin to love. Looking down at the arrow, you remembered Lydia saying to use it as a marker. You clutched it tight, looking at Derek, and anchoring yourself to the here and now.
"If it helps," you heard Lydia's voice softly approaching. "I predict death. And so far, not a single foreboding thought has come to mind, knock on wood." Everyone reached out and knocked on the closest wooden surface, including you, and you smiled softly, seeing her do the same. Reaching out to put a hand on both your arms, she laughed gently. "Well, except for Stiles, if he doesn't get back here with those donuts soon, but that's just my own personal wish."
"I think we all share that wish," Malia grumbled as her stomach growled loudly, and everyone laughed.
"Thank you, guys," you said after a moment, staring at the floor. "I, uh.... I don't know why I freaked out. It used to happen a lot before I left, I guess Peter just brings out that side of me."
"Hey, Stiles gets panic attacks," Scott said, "I used to have to use an inhaler."
"I still have night terrors," Isaac said softly.
"I have panic attacks and nightmares about some of the stuff we've fought," Liam added.
"I think being what we are, and knowing what we know, a freak out once in awhile is allowed." Derek was the last to speak, and you looked to him, seeing a new look in his eyes.
Being together again, even just in the same room, for the first time since the bite all those years ago, the bond between the two of you was growing stronger. He could sense your emotions, and once you realized that, you focused and felt him trying to send you reassurance. You smiled and noticed a spark in his eye when you tried doing the same, and you both shared a smile.
He wrapped you in a hug just when the loft door slid open and Stiles had two large bags full of boxes of donuts, along with one powdered donut in his mouth, the sugar all over the front of him. Looking around the room, frozen, he spoke around the donut, his voice muffled. "What?"