Your Scent Is Something Else

Chapter 7

Double update for you beautiful people.

Derek POV
Scott looked at me, tears testing the boundaries of his eyes. The pack was sprawled across the loft. Everyone was exhausted and they stayed silent, the night's events hitting them hard. I sighed as I relay what happened.
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The moment we pulled up to the station Stiles jumped out of the Jeep, all of us following suit. The moment he got to the door he stopped, covering his mouth and nose, turning away slightly. I could smell the blood, but didn't realize just how bad it was until I got behind him. The bodies of six officers littered the floor. I was making a mental note that these were some morbid bitches, when I saw movement out the corner of my eye. I walked over the bodies to the sheriff's office and opened the door to reveal a beaten, bloodied, and barely conscious Parrish struggling weakly against the restraints. Scott and Jackson rushed over to him, breaking him free.

He looked (ironically) like death, his head hanging to one the side, silently thanking the teens beside him. "Stilinski." He said weakly. "They took Stilinski.... out to the woods." He said, groaning at the end of his sentence (most likely the bruises littering his face).

I walked over and attempted to help him up but after he insisted that he was fine I left him to his own abilities. Stiles was leaned against the entry way and I grabbed his arm as we left.

"Come on. We're going into the woods."
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Stiles stopped the car at the entrance to the woods. I got out and started into the woods. Quick footsteps came up behind me and I could tell it was Stiles because of how they, all too occasionally, faltered because of clumsiness.

"So..." Stiles asked as he got beside me. "do you know where we're going?"

"Sorta. I don't have a scent but we'll eventually stumble across something."

"Great." He sighed.
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Stiles POV

Derek held up his hand, signaling for everyone to stop. He was looking around, scanning his surroundings. He looked to the left and started running. We all followed.

Even though I wasn't a werewolf, I could still see when he paused a significant distance away. "Over here!" He yelled, starting to lower onto one knee.

When we made it over, I was the first to see what Derek had found. The body of my dad, bloodshot eyes blankly starting forward. I dropped to my knees, tears forming, and I could feel the beginnings of a panic attack. There was as blood leaving his eyes and his mouth. His death was morbid, unneeded, and it pissed me off an immense amount.

"Let's go." I growled, starting to stand. I turned and headed back to where the cars were.

"Stiles, wait." Derek said, remorse evident in his voice. I heard the way he silently stalked towards me. He went to put his hand on my shoulder but once it made contact, he quickly pulled it back with a wince. I turned to face him and he used the tip of a nail to lift my head. "Stiles-"

"No." I interrupted him. "I don't need your remorse right now. This has gone too far." I choke back tears. "If those bitches want me for their Blair witch shit, then that's what they'll get." I start to storm off but before I even get 3 steps away, Chris stops me. I don't have time to tell him to move before he's dropping a small purple bag into my hands. I knew it all too well. I had seen it in the countless books that I had practiced to memory. At this exposition, I started walking to my car.
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Derek POV
At this point Stiles had been AWOL for 3 hours now. "Derek." Scott said, grabbing my attention. I looked over to the couch he was sitting on and raised an eyebrow. "Deaton wants to talk to you." He said.