Payment (revised)

Chapter 8

Be warned the end of this gets violent and bloody and Stiles has a panic attack and doesn't realize it be careful if this at all triggers you
All the love
Anna and Casey

edited: 5/12/20

edited: 6/20/23

Weeks had passed since Stiles had last been home.

Weeks since he'd woken up in a cell with no hope of seeing the light again.

Weeks since Derek Hale had crashed into his life, and flipped everything upside down.

Even as Stiles became more comfortable with his new surroundings, he always held Derek at arms length. The Alpha confused the boy to no end. The two would barely make eye contact during the day, but fall into each other's arms at night.

Stiles didn't understand it, he didn't know if he wanted to, but this newfound, infuriating silence was driving him mad.

Stiles should be elated; he saw and heard from Derek as little as possible. However, to his increasing frustration, the lack of contact was picking at his sanity.

Did the Alpha think so highly of himself he couldn't make time to say hello to the person he shared a bed with?

He wished he could deny it, but there was no point. Stiles was hurt.

It had taken only one evening for all his pent up aggression to hit full force.

Stiles had been tossing and turning in bed, waiting impatiently for Derek to grace him with his presence. When hours had gone by with the man still absent, Stiles had taken matters into his own hands. Derek was not allowed to take away the one thing Stiles needed from him. It hadn't only been the last straw, Derek had set fire to the entire fucking haystack. Stiles had stormed up to the Alpha's office prepared to give him hell.

Part of Stiles knew he was dealing in matters he shouldn't be. He was baiting a man who could easily murder him for stepping out of line. But if Stiles was being honest, he had stopped fearing for his life days ago. Derek had put far too much effort into saving Stiles to get rid of him now.

At least, that's what the boy had thought.

"...if I could relive that moment in the cells I would've let Peter put a bullet in your head."

Derek's words that night still whispered in the back of Stiles's head. The comment had rung with a truth that felt like a slap to the face. It left Stiles wondering how safe he truly was here. Maybe Derek wouldn't give the killing blow, but would he make an effort to prevent it from someone else's hand?

Stiles tried not to dwell too hard on not knowing the answer.

After the confrontation, what Stiles had hoped to fix had only been made worse. Though the older man had joined him the night of their argument, they had slept with their backs to each other and neither spoke a word.

Now, Derek hadn't been to bed for the past three days, and Stiles had suffered because of it. The boy always seemed to be in a foul mood as of late, and there were dark bags under his eyes to prove it.

The few times Derek and Stiles made contact on a normal day had diminished to practically nothing. If Stiles saw Derek walking his way, he turned and went down a different hall. If Stiles was in a room Derek needed to be in, the Alpha would go to great lengths to get out as soon as possible. The entire situation was ridiculous and childish, but Stiles refused to be the first one to break.

Instead, the boy focused his attention elsewhere. In an attempt to get his mind off of Derek, Stiles spent his time with the pack. Not that it was a hardship. Unlike their leader and his uncle, the pack had broken through Stiles's defenses with ease. He had surprisingly come to enjoy their company, and even made an effort to seek them out throughout the day. Today was no different.

Stiles was currently in the lounge with Scott. Whenever the pack wasn't busy with work or training, they could be found in this communal area. Stiles had walked into the room to find his friend making a mess of himself. Half eaten food littered the floor, and an empty whiskey bottle looked like it was about to fall from Scott's hand. Stiles quickly stepped in before the brunette could do further damage.