Initiate // Sterek

// four //

I was trying desperately to piece things together.

Jackson wanted to be changed... He couldn't possibly have meant werewolf could he?

And what would he be doing at the burnt down Hale house? Wait....Hale....it couldn't possibly be...

No of course not, right?

I looked around the room for Derek, but he was nowhere in sight. Instead, I looked for Scott. He was over by a bench lifting weights, surprisingly he was by himself.

"Hey.." I said, standing awkwardly behind him. He turned his head to look at me for a second before putting the weights down. "Hey Stiles." He replied, looking up and motioning for me to sit down. "What's up?" I asked, finding it hard to start a conversation with him. This wasn't normal. Usually we could never shut up yet now we could barely get a sentence out of each other. What the hell happened? "Nothing really, I'm just still trying to wrap my head around all of this, y'know? It's like one day we're playing lacrosse, next day we're waiting for a death sentence. I don't like it Stiles."

I wasn't sure what to say to him. I knew exactly what he meant but I didn't know why he was being so negative about it when this morning he was all laughs and giggles with his new buddies. Okay maybe that's just jealousy inside me but still, I don't get it.

"Scott, I've known you for years, I know you. Of all people, you can definitely do this." I said, trying to reassure him. "It's not just me I'm worried about, Stiles," he sighed, looking up. "I'm worried about you. I'm worried about the rest of these guys. I've been here a few weeks now and I've gotten to know some of them, they don't deserve this." I sighed in frustration. I should've expected this. Scott always had to out other people first. Sometimes that was a great thing, but it wasn't very beneficial at the moment.

"You've just got to keep going, think about what's happening right now, not what's going to happen in the future. Don't dwell on other people's future's and don't rely on them to always be there either. Don't find an anchor to keep you sane. Be your own anchor."

~

I was walking back to the dormitory, a little bit behind the others. I didn't do anything physical during training, instead I went back to the book table and started reading again. Even though it would be good to actually practice fighting, I felt like I would be better off learning about some of the things I might face in the near future. Hopefully not.

We kept walking until suddenly the sound of gunshots rang through the building.

One, two, three.

I immediately turned the opposite direction to where the firing had come from to see if anyone was there. There was nothing. I turned back to the rest of the group who were looking around suspiciously, fear obvious in their faces.

"Who do you think got shot?" Isaac said, looking a little nervous.

I wasn't sure. My dad being a cop had taught me how to analyse a crime scene, so I began thinking back before a sudden thought and realisation came to mind. "It's Derek! When we left he went the opposite direction to us. It sounded like it came from a bit away, far enough for him to have walked that far. We have to go see." I urged.

"Why should we? He doesn't care if we die, so why should we care if he does?" Aiden asked defensively. I felt a rush of anger come over me. "He does care! He does fucking care! What sort of sane person would be okay with killing teenagers for not being good enough?!" I shouted, curling my knuckles. I don't know how it happened but I had developed some need to make sure Derek was okay, it was stupid considering he could definitely take care of himself, but it was like that moment in the library had cemented something between us. Whether that will or would have developed into something, I don't know, but that's not not my main priority right now.

"Since when is he sane? He's a killer! Have you seen his claws, fangs, nails? He's made to kill! That is not sane!" Scott shouted.

"So that's why you don't talk to me.." Malia spoke from behind them, startling everybody. "You think I'm going to kill you." She drawled, fake laughing. Everybody's eyes were on her. "Stiles must have some really big balls then." She laughed before walking towards where the gun had came from.

I turned and looked at the group. "Just the fact that someone, regardless of who or what he is, is dying and you don't care makes me think you're just as sane as you think he is." I spat before going in the direction Malia had went. I caught up to her quick enough, she was kneeling in what looked like a small pool of blood, beside a body. Derek.

My heart began to constrict in my chest and a lump caught in my throat. He couldn't be dead. Not yet. Not now. Not ever.

I ran over to them and knelt into Derek's chest, to check if he was breathing. "He is." Malia said, before I could check. "He's breathing. I can hear his heartbeat." I let out a sigh of relief. "Why isn't he healing?" I asked, but Malia shook her head. "I'm not sure, I haven't been around werewolves that long so I don't know everything about them yet."

"Oh but I do, children. I know a lot." A man said, walking out from what seemed like nowhere. He was old, but I could see he had a gun in his pocket. He was human. "Oh don't worry, once we get out of here we'll make sure your little wolf can heal." He said, a sly smile on his face. "Now let's go." He said, before my face was covered, by something dark, and I was carried away.