Alpha Hale

Chapter 12

Stiles didn’t know what to do when Scott helped him sneak out into the school parking lot to talk to his alpha boyfriend.

He wanted to run, or offer up his phone as a sign of surrender, but then Derek happened to look mightily attractive in his gang leather and Stiles was distracted by their unfinished business in Derek's car that morning instead.

Scott made an odd, anxious sound in his throat at approaching the big, bad alpha and Stiles suddenly remembered he existed and that he could probably smell the direction where his mind and body was going before he remembered that was too much for Scott to handle.

“Are you here to kill someone?” he asked. “It’s not me is it? I mean, yeah okay. I’ll admit I overdid it with all those messages…”

“I’m joining the Argents on their hunt,” Derek said, watching Stiles as his mouth fell open. What? Did he forget the part where they tried to kill him?

“You what? The hunt for the rogue? They've literally tried to kill you before how does that make sense?” he demanded, gravitating towards Derek unconsciously. “And where are the werewolves you took on your little rogue expedition? Are they dead already?"

Derek stepped closer as well, almost unthinkingly. Stiles was torn between punching some sense into his ridiculous freaking face or jumping his bones in front of Scott in the school parking lot.

He was still mulling over his options.

“They’re with Chris, right now,” Derek explained, because apparently he and Allison's father were on a first name basis now. “He figured it was time we ended the rogue for good and they need our help to do it.”

Stiles could see the logic in it, but it didn’t make the idea any less stupid. Jesus, what the hell was Derek thinking?

“Is Gerard with them?” he asked, stepping closer to place his hand against his chest, pushing gently. “You realise that this is going to get you killed right?” Stiles muttered, voice low and strained.

He didn’t like it. He didn’t trust it and there was no way in hell he wasn't going with him. Derek’s fingers wrapped around his hand softly pulling it free, but he didn’t let go and squeezed in a comforting way.

“He broke off from the group several days ago,” Derek said in a hard voice. “They think he’s lost his mind and they know he stopped following the code.”

“I’m going with you.”

Derek’s expression hardened at the idea, which clearly meant no. He opened his mouth to protest, but Derek was already speaking.

“No, you're not,” he said a little more forcefully than usual as if he didn’t trust Stiles to listen to him the first time which a) was a very valid point because that’d been exactly what he’d been about to do and b) since when had Derek been able to figure out the whimsical thoughts of his brain?

‘Listen to me, Stiles,” he said. “I came to tell you what was going on, but I need you to be safe. Not running around in the woods with a jar of dust, alright?”

Jesus, Stiles hadn't realised he was getting so predictable. Or maybe he and Derek understood each other a lot better than he'd originally thought. Scott cleared his throat awkwardly and they both turned as if they’d forgotten he was there. Stiles definitely had. Oops. Sorry, Scott.

“I’ll go with you,” he offered out of nowhere, getting over the fact that Stiles clearly wanted to climb Derek like a tree. He approached them almost warily as if expecting Derek to rip his throat out for it and Stiles didn’t put it past him.