Too Much Fangirl, Too Less Writing Skill

#1 Sterek - That's Not How it Happened

Stiles found Derek first. Away from the others team members of the Field Operation, he followed the footprints outside the building to a dry creek that was located at the base of the woods. Stiles wasn't scared as he stepped into the creek, but he was wary of who he might find if it wasn't Derek.

"Stiles?" he heard a weak voice from among the bushes at the far end of the creek.

It was Derek. He had found Derek.

"Derek? Oh, thank God you're okay!"  

Stiles jumped over a fallen tree to get to the end of the creek, to Derek. The werewolf was on his knees, bleeding, barely holding himself up. Derek was the one who got caught in the crossfire. He was losing a lot of blood and that many bullets in him didn't help the healing go any faster either. Getting him out of there as far as possible was the hard part. But Derek seem to know a well-hidden cabin not far from where Stiles found him. He explained that it was a hide-out for werewolves that he had come across. There was everything Stiles needed to get the bullets out of Derek and bandage him up in the cabin. He wished he could just scream and run away, or better yet, fall unconscious at the sight of all that blood. But he had to help Derek. He had to get him out of here. He had to get them both back to Beacon Hills. It was all he could think about, at the moment.

Derek woke up, fresh but still grimy, two hours later, just as Stiles was trying to reach Scott or Lydia or anyone for the 86th time. He gingerly got up, rubbing his eyes, as he came towards Stiles.

"How are those wounds? Have you healed yet?" Stiles asked, giving up on his phone and looking up at Derek.

"Yeah, I guess so," undoing the bandages around his stomach; there were only scars left now and scars took a bit of extra time to heal, especially if Derek was worried or stressed, "I'm alright."

"No, you're not. Derek, what the hell?" Stiles began, "You're FBI's top priority mass murderer, right now? Like seriously, we-"

"Stiles, it's not like that-"

"It's not like what? You leave Beacon Hills for one moment, say you're headed to South America and suddenly you're a feral mass murdering-" Stiles started to splutter like an angry girlfriend;

It took only minutes to calm him down for Derek especially since he was very, very interested in knowing what exactly Derek was doing running around shirtless in the wilderness of North Carolina, since he knew something was not right.

"How did you get here? How did you even find me?" Derek asked, once he was done talking and leaving Stiles more confused and worried than he already was, "And why on earth are the FBI with you?"

"Well, you know," Stiles shrugged, "First day at Quantico and they play all those crime scene photos and clips and I see you running around being a mass murderer and-"

"And you just dropped everything to get me?" Derek moved closer to Stiles, trying not to falter with his words.

"Uh no-not really, 'cause I needed, you know, them to come and get you-" Stiles was now stammering with every step Derek took towards him, "And so I convinced them-uh-to arrange a field op and-"

"Do you know how dangerous this is? You're not an FBI agent, Stiles. You're not a werewolf. You're human. You could have gotten killed!"

"You could have-"

"I need you to go back to your team, Stiles. They must be looking for you."

"What? Derek, we need to get to Scott. Those psychopaths are obviously killing off my friends, you think-you want me to-?" Stiles' words were lost since now he was looking up at Derek who was very close now.