Web of Deception: The Webbed Avenger

Chapter Twenty: Blood Trail

The Loft

Stiles opened his eyes slowly, feeling the intense pain from the bruising on his torso from where Derek had left his mark following their "training" if it could be called that.  How in god's name Derek considered a beating like that a training session, Stiles would never know.  If Derek had used his claws he imagined the werewolf would have left him in a pool of his own blood.  It was kind of terrifying to think about in all honesty but he wouldn't think about it too long.  He groaned as he sat up with a great amount of effort.

The sun was starting to rise over the city of Manhattan, and Stiles turned his head towards his clock where he saw it was a little after five thirty.  With luck if he drove home now he could get home before his father woke up and he would be in the clear.

Derek was currently passed out on the couch and Stiles couldn't be bothered to wake him up as he stumbled to the door and left.  He was sure the werewolf was aware of his departure because he heard a little grunt as Stiles shut the door, and by god it wasn't his own.

He still had to get home and deal with his father if he was caught, and if he was caught the consequences would not be good.

Meanwhile, Derek tossed and turned on the couch as in his head he had images of fire and people burning to death flash through his mind, the unfortunate accident that had rendered him blind and deaf, and killed most of his family all too fresh in his mind even though it had been nearly twenty years since then.

Derek might have looked like he was about eighteen, almost nineteen, but in actuality he was thirty-three years old.  He knew that because when Stiles was born he was seventeen.  Imagine being in a coma, and your entire life plays by over and over again on repeat without stopping.  Now, imagine that you are aware that you are in a coma but you cannot do anything.  That's what Derek had to go through for the longest time following the fire, and even after he escaped Oscorp Tower.  It still felt like he was in a coma, and he knew he was asleep but couldn't control his dream.

The only solace he had from this nightmare was the wild card that was Stiles Stilinski.  He was the one that Norman Osborn hadn't accounted for, and especially the Identity Thief.  The Identity Thief was the one he was searching for, as he had his sister, Cora.

With Stiles' help, maybe Derek could find Cora before it was too late.  That was something he had to hold on to, he just couldn't lose her as well.

Who knows, maybe now that Stiles was on his side, maybe Derek could face the two sided fight and come out alright. 

"C-Cora," he muttered in his sleep as he did as he had done many times in the past year...  he relived the days before his family's death.

November, 1994

"C-Cora?" the fifteen year old asked sleepily as he saw the little five year old look at him with a look of fear as she stood in the doorway.  It was a look he was all too familiar with as his eyes glowed amber yellow.  Derek sat up in bed with a smile, "What's wrong munchkin?"

She giggled lightly before running over to him.  "Mommy's on the phone with someone, and she's angry.  I think it might be a bad man."

"Mom, angry on the phone?  You want me to make sure she's okay?" Derek asked her, raising an eyebrow to which Cora nodded quickly, her dark brown locks bouncing across her face like window blinds in the wind.  "Alright, anything for you."

Derek picked her up into his arms, lifting her with one arm as he carried her to the hallway.  The house wasn't that big in his opinion, but it was large enough for their family, especially on the nights of the Wolf Moon ritual when there was nearly fifty of them in the same building.  Derek carried Cora to her room, laying her down in the bed and told her goodnight before he went to check on his mother, Talia.