The Bravest of the Pack (Sterek)

Part fifteen

The sky was turning a beautiful deep orange as the sun started to rise. Light was trickling through the leaves of the trees, casting intricate shadows on the ground. Stiles would have felt quite peaceful if it wasn't for his breaking bones.

His arms were outstretched and had shrunk back to their original length with the joints going back into place. His torso had also become much more human-like, making it difficult to walk on all fours. The fur was disappearing as well as his paws, resulting in his claws being retracted back into his now human fingers.

Stiles slowly stood up, his spine clicking back into place as he did so. It took him a few minutes to realise he didn't have any clothes on, which was understandable. He did just turn into a huge lion.

Stiles made his way back to his house, keeping close to the trees and bushes just to make sure he had somewhere to hide if he saw someone.

Not like he would that early in the morning. He shivered slightly in the gentle breeze, thankfully he was almost home.

~~~~~

Derek was still shaking, he had stayed up all night worrying. His body felt heavy and there were dark circles under his eyes, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Stiles.

He was watching the sun starting to rise from the window ledge of Stiles' room. He had been there all night, looking down at the woods.

Thankfully the sheriff had gone straight to bed and passed out, forgetting to check on Stiles. Little did he know, if he had, all he would have seen was a torn up room and a very pensive werewolf.

Derek sighed, he felt weak and pathetic. He'd lost Stiles... maybe forever.

Just as the words formed in his head, Derek saw movement outside. There was something behind a tree. He hastily got to his feet and sprinted down the stairs. He practically teared through the front door, making his way to the part of the woods he had been looking at. There was nothing but the distant sound of thudding. It must have been a deer.

~~~~~

Crap. Crap crap crap. That was Derek, in his room, sitting at the window Stiles had broken the previous night. And he defiantly saw him.

Stiles stood still, hiding behind a tree.

"Quick," he thought to himself "I need to do something. I can't face Derek like this, he'll know it's me. He'll know I'm the lion"

So he ran. Not a 'awkwardly sprint till your lungs hurt' run, but a werewolf run. Fast and graceful, the only sound he could hear was the thumping of his own bare feet on the soft ground.

This wasn't just any run. No, this was a lion's run. This was Stiles' run.

And it was badass as hell.