Bite Me Harder -Sterek AU-

Chapter 3

Stiles wrung his hands nervously, pacing the print of his sneakers into his carpet. His mind was full of questions, jumping from one subject to another on the topic of what he was and what he could become. It didn't help that he couldn't focus at all on the subject at hand anyway, so his thoughts would break off half way to jump to the next question. He contemplated using Adderall, but dismissed it.

Stiles wondered if he trusted Derek Hale, someone with a likely growing police record, to help him. The eye thing still creeped him the hell out. He also wanted to know how he stopped his panic attack just by telling him to breathe. You weren't supposed to touch someone having an attack unless they give you consent, yet Stiles hadn't even noticed the hands on his face until it was over.

Stiles was growing impatient without answers, and hey, if he was murdered by Derek Hale then maybe that would be his legend...Okay, bad thought. Stiles finally stopped his pacing and opened up his drawer to take out a small pistol. It was a present from his dad last year, after the house was broken into. Stiles luckily had been at Scott's at the time, because the guy they caught had a history of domestic violence and three past accounts of murder.

His dad gave it to him after just in case it happened again and he was home. With the gun in hand, six bullets slipped into the magazine and a torch, he left his house at ten on a Wednesday night, quite as not to wake his dad. Hard when your car took multiple times to start up on that particular time. But once Stiles was on the road, he was glad to be away from the tight confides of his room.

👣🐾👣🐾👣

Stiles had his gun slipped into his jacket pocket, torch lighting his way as he walked along the uneven terrain of the forest floor.

"Derek?" He called out softly at first, but received no answer. He continued to walk for a few more minutes before taking in a deep breath. "Derek-!" His shout was cut off by a sharp gasp of pain, back roughly shoved against the fallen leaves and twigs digging into his back. He looked up in the darkness, torch rolled away to the side.

"Femik?" He muffled through the calloused hand, Derek gripping his jaw harder as to shut him up.

"Shut up and lay low." He growled threateningly, and Stiles gave a minuscule nod, fear blossoming in his chest. Is this how he died?

Suddenly, distant crunches of leaves under boots met his ears and he swivelled his eyes around to follow the sound. His torch suddenly turned off, curtesy of Derek's long limbs. He could feel the heat radiating off the man, practically covering him like a blanket with his body until the footsteps disappeared out of super-hearing range.

Derek stood the next moment, fluid and casual before just standing there expectingly.

"W-What?" Stiles rose a brow in confusion.

"Get. Up." Derek stressed out, anger tingeing his tone. Stiles scrambled up with a flail of uncoordinated limbs, standing before the other.

"So, uh...Are you gonna tell me what that was about?" He asked, pointing at his flashlight before he picked it up

"Hunters."

"Holy crap, they're real-?!" Derek clamped a hand over his mouth again.

"Shut. Up."

"Okay, okay, sorry, it's the adrenaline. So, hunters. Why are they here?"

"Probably to hunt us. I don't know their definite goal, but they started surveilling the woods last night. They came again tonight. They'll probably keep doing that till the full moon." Derek responded gruffly.