Payment (revised)

Chapter 18

edited: 5/13/20

edited: 8/12/23

The ride back from the docks was all a blur to Stiles.

He vaguely recalled the anxiety he felt due to Derek's hostility towards him, and a strange mix of hope and fear concerning Lydia's wellbeing.

But besides that, the cramped walls of the car that drove them back to the hotel was all Stiles knew in that short period of time.

It wasn't until he was certain of Lydia's wellbeing, now in the capable hands of Deaton, that Stiles came back to himself. With a flare of Allison's skirt, the brunette, Lydia, and the good doctor were lost from sight as the door to the medical wing closed.

Then everything was silent. Exhausted silence that wracked Stiles's body with shivers. He felt lost, like all the adrenaline had abandoned him with one fell swoop.

The only thing he wanted was Derek.

Pricks of a rose stem punctured the surface of his consciousness as his thoughts pivoted to those of the Alpha.

All he wanted was to feel the man's arms surround him, hold him, care for him in the way Stiles had come to rely so heavily on. But the way Derek talked to him at the docks was enough confirmation to know he wasn't going to be on the man's good side for a while.

Another shiver shook his body; his gnawing need for Derek wouldn't be satisfied, at least not tonight. In fact, it would probably be better if he just escaped to the bedroom now.

He could hear the distant rumbles of conversation from the pack behind him, and knew that he was the last of their worries.

He could slink away and deal with it all in the morning. Stiles nodded to himself, as if confirming the plan, before he did the one thing that would damn the rest of his night.

Traitorously eager to catch one last glimpse of Derek before he made his way for the staircase, Stiles glanced over his shoulder. Slowly, so as to not gain anyone's notice, but it was already too late.

Someone's focus was on him, it had never left him to begin with.

Derek Hale was standing behind the rest of the pack, his arms crossed menacingly over his chest, the shadowy corners of the room seeming to encase him as if they were servants responding to their master's call. His dark eyes were fixed on only one point. That point was Stiles.

The boy froze as he locked his eyes with Derek's; a battle he knew he wasn't prepared enough for to win.

Derek had the advantage. He was livid, and had been scared for the one thing in his life that was quickly becoming the center of it.

Of course, Stiles didn't know that just yet.

No, all he could feel was deafening acceptance as Derek stalked through his pack, a hunter searching for its prey. As he came to a halt a few feet away from Stiles, the boy knew it was too late to escape.

The pack quieted down as they finally tuned into the tension, their focus solely on the duo in the middle of the room.

It made Stiles antsy that they were going to do this, hash this out, with such an obvious crowd. But the spark of anger he felt due to Derek's intimidation methods proved to be enough fuel to force him onward. Past the point of no return. If this was how Derek wanted to play, then Stiles would play.

"You idiot," Derek spat, his rage palpable.

Stiles dared to open his mouth to defend himself, but Derek cut him off immediately.

"I told you to stay here," the Alpha growled, his voice deep and echoing off the walls around them.