True Mate » Sterek

Chapter 28

The genuine concern and fear in Noah's voice sends Stiles straight up. He's racing down the stairs before he knows it, and rounding to his father.

"Stiles," the sheriff looks up at his son from his spot on the floor next to Derek, "Call an ambulance." Frozen in shock, the teenager doesn't move. "Stiles!" Noah shouts, "An ambulance before Derek dies!"

"No," he states, swallowing the lump in his throat, "No ambulance. No hospitals."

"Are you crazy!?"

"Possibly, and after you see what's about to happen...you might be too," Stiles admits, staring back at his dad, who is beyond confused—which can only increase with the coming events.

Stiles sits on the hard floor and picks Derek's head up to place it in his lap. Upon contact, the werewolf's eyes shoot open. "St–Stiles," he chokes, glancing to the boys father. "I know, Derek. I know," he whispers, running a hand through that dark hair, both for comfort and to get it out of his face.

He mumbles an inaudible apology to his dad before leaning down and pressing his lips to Derek. It only takes Derek a moment to regain consciousness again and kiss back. Minutes later, the open gashes on Dereks exposed abdomen begin to close slightly. Noah stumbles back at the sight, blinking hard.

While maintaining the kiss, Stiles uses his index finger to trace over one of the healing wounds. Once he's done, it's gone. It has completely disappeared.

The larger slit takes more time, but is nearly healed by the time Derek sits up, looking far too heathy for someone who just stumbled into the house and passed out from pain and blood loss.

Stiles hesitantly glances up at his father, who has too many emotions playing on his face to read what he's thinking.

"Is this a joke, Stiles?" Noah finally asks, anger clear in his voice. "No," he whispers back. "So you're telling me that Derek just magically healed in front of me, after making out with you?" Stiles nods.

"Look, dad," Stiles breaths after a long pause, "This isn't how I wanted you to find out, but I guess things never really go my way. So, uh, here it goes...the supernatural are real." Noah's face completely blanks at the statement.

"Right," he responds sarcastically, "And so is the tooth fairy. Now get off the floor and tell me what's actually going on. You too," he points at Derek.

The three take a seat at the dining room table before Stiles yammers on about everything the pack has been through. Noah comments about how bogus everything is, making his son pull out an old chess board and explain it that way.

The sheriff glances to Derek with a skeptic look, shaking his head. "So you're telling me that your boyfriend is a werewolf? And so is Scott?"

"Yes!" Stiles exclaims, thinking his dad is finally coming around, "We met him in the woods the night after Scott was bit."

"Derek bit Scott?"

"No! Weren't you paying attention? Derek's psychotic Uncle bit Scott. Peter," he clarifies. "Right...and you," Noah directs towards Derek, "Killed him?"

"Technically, but now he's alive because he used Lydia's powers against her," Stiles answers for him. "And she is..?"

"A banshee."

"...who finds dead bodies?" Noah questions, that expression of disbelief returning. "Well, yeah, but not purposely!"

"Stiles," the sheriff trails off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You know how ridiculous this sounds, right?"

"I know, but how else do you explain what you just saw?"

"I'm still going to go with a prank. A very well thought-out prank."

Derek grows tired of the back and forth, he's already there and might as well move the conversation along. He stands from his seat, only to be stopped by a frantic hand on his chest. "Wait! Wait, just hold on. At least let me prepare him for this. You're going to give him a heart attack, Derek!" Derek nods a couple of times and backs up.  Noah stands too.

"Fine. You don't believe me, and I get it, it's a lot to take in...but Derek can prove it. Werewolves come with more than healing abilities. There's—"

"Strength, claws, teeth, and glowing eyes," Noah interrupts with an annoyed hand, "You've told me at least a hundred times, Stiles." Stiles only gives his dad a look of pity for not understanding, and for the reality that's about to hit him. He steps out of the way, a half-shifted Derek standing behind him.

Slowly, Derek pulls his head up. He stares dead an Noah with glowing red eyes, bared teeth, and longer facial hair grown from his cheeks. Claws stick from the top of his finger tips, hanging down at his sides.

"No. N-no," Noah mumbles under his breath in a quiet whisper. Everything, every little thing he knows to be true is out the window with one look at the male in front of him. Reality is altered, his cases are far from the truth, his own blood isn't who he thought.

Within seconds Derek is back to any normal man on the streets, and he's helping Stiles hold the sheriff upright. "Woah, dad. Dad, are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just—I think I should, uh, sit—sit down." Stiles and Derek share eye contact for a moment before walking him back to the chair he was in. Derek brings him a class of water, to which he thanks him for, but doesn't drink it.

***

"Is he okay?" Stiles asks from the kitchen, watching his dad with concern as he sits on the couch and stares at the television—which isn't on. "He's in shock," Derek replies honestly. "Yeah...but he's going to be okay, right?" Stiles looks up at Derek with a frown. "Just give him time," he whispers, gently kissing the teens forehead.

Stiles wraps his arms around Derek and breaths him in, taking a second to calm down himself. Derek holds him there, and keep an eye on Noah, who abruptly stands.

"Uh, Stiles..." Derek trails off. He turns to see his father go up stairs. Stiles sighs. "Stay here."

Just as he reaches the stairs, Noah is storming back down with his gun in hand. Stiles jumps out of the way with widened eyes. Everything clicks in an instant, and he's running after his dad.

"Dad! Dad! Stop, you don't know what you're doing!" Stiles yells. Noah is already aiming it directly at Derek's head with a look of utter disgust. "You stay away from my son," Noah demands in a low snarl. "Dad!" Stiles grabs his shoulder, only to be shoved back. The action takes him by surprise and he stumbles backwards until officially losing his balance and falling. He hits his head against the wall, making Derek react immediately.

Despite the weapon being pointed at him, he rushes to Stiles. Just as he goes to kneel down, there's a foreign object being pressed to the back of his skull. His eyes go red.

"Derek," Stiles warns, "Derek, don't." But his words are meaningless. Derek has the pistol in his own hand before Noah even knows he's turned around.

Stiles nor Noah dare speak as the tension grows.

Derek takes in a shallow breath before crouching down, he places the gun onto the tiled floor and slides it out of reach.

"He could have concussion. I'm taking him to the hospital," Derek explains slowly. Noah doesn't move, just sends a quick glance to his pistol.

With that, Derek scoops Stiles into his arms and carries him out the front door.