Red Riding Hoodie

n i n e

January 17th 2014

Stiles walked around the hallway biting his nails, and raking his hand through his unkempt messy hair once or twice in the process.

Scott and himself had stayed over night, Derek assuming they had left and went home didn't bother checking, because they were just strangers who helped him in his time of need. Stiles was regretting the lack of sleep he had, he turned to Scott who was already watching him intently.

"Go home Stiles," Scott said, leaning against the door of Derek's loft, sensing how tired his friend was. Stiles groaned, rubbing a tired had over his face. "No." was all he said.

Stiles couldn't explain it, he felt as if he were being pulled to the older man with an invisible string, and even though he wanted to leave, half of him was screaming 'stay'. "Stiles, I know you're tired, go get some sleep."

"No Scott," Stiles turned his head towards his friend. "I have to stay." Scott sat staring at Stiles, confused as to why he had to.

"You don't get it Scott," Stiles sighed, suddenly becoming more tired and leaned against the door to Derek's loft for support.

"I barely get it." Scott stood from his sitting position, standing beside Stiles' fatigued body. "Get what? What don't I get?"

"I don't - It's - I can't explain it, Scott!" Stiles threw his hands up in defeat, sinking down to the bottom of the loft door, almost immediately falling asleep. Scott looked down at Stiles and becoming worried he might've knocked himself out or something he immediately walked down the hallway hoping his mom would pick up.

---

Derek heard a thump outside his loft, immediately assuming the worst he had his claws and fangs ready.

He cautiously walked to,his door, listening for anything. Nothing. He snatched his door open a loud thump following after the scrapping of wood on concrete.

He looked around, then at the body that lay at his feet curled into a ball asleep.

His fangs and claws hiding for now he bent down and looked at the body on the ground, it was the boy that was on his couch. The one him and his uncle talked about. The boy that he was incredibly confused about. He remembered the boy saying his name was Stiles.

He sat Stiles up and picked him up effortlessly and walked over to his bed, placing him down softly he watched at Stiles contracted upon himself, as if he were shielding himself from something.

Derek walked over to his door again and as soon and he was about to pull the door shut, Scott stopped in front of his door holding a phone to his ear wondering where Stiles disappeared off to.

Scott told his mom he'd call her later and hung up, looking at Derek he asked, "Where's Stiles?" Derek pulled hair s door open so Scott could see Stiles and see that he was fine.

"Is it okay if he-" Derek interrupts Scott's sentence with, "If he stays? It's fine." He shrugged and walked over to Stiles' peaceful sleeping body, Scott following afterwards, closing the loft door.

"What happen to him?" Derek asked, trying to cover the fact that he was concerned about the younger boy.

"He was just tired," Scott shrugged. "we stayed all last nig-" "Why?" Derek interrupts again.

"He wouldn't let me take him home, he kept saying he couldn't leave and that he had to stay; it was like, nagging him or something." He said, crossing his arms over his chest staring at his sleeping friend.

Derek smiled to himself, he had found his mate.

---

You know that feelings that you get when you're asleep and you feel like your falling and you get the feeling nothing can save your fall?

Stiles had that exact feeling right now, except his wasn't for just a second, it just kept going and going.

He reached for something, anything to grab so he could stop himself from falling onto whatever was at the bottom of the darkness he was falling in.

Every time he reached out all he received was air gliding through his hand.

He panicked.

---

Scott and Derek sat on the couch and talked about Stiles and how Scott had become friends with Stiles, a silent movement caught Derek's eye as Scott was laughing about how he almost knocked Stiles off his roof with a baseball bat.

Derek looked over to the small movement, but all he saw was Stiles sleeping, so he turned his attention back to Scott.

A few seconds passed and Stiles started thrashing around in Derek's bed. Derek and Scott shot up from the couch, running over to Stiles' sleeping form.

"What's wrong with him?" Scott asked, worried. Derek tried holding Stiles down but failed as he was kicked in his side. "Go find some water!" Derek ordered as he grabbed Stiles' arm and increased his strength.

Scott watched as his friend whimpered and struggled to get out of the older man's grip, but followed his orders of finding water.

Derek had finally gotten Stiles to calm down enough and had left a red mark on Stiles' wrist, he was too busy examining the mark he hadn't noticed the quiet tears falling from Stiles' closed eyes.

His gaze moved to the tears, he tried comforting the younger boy by sitting on the edge of his bed, he lifted Stiles a little so he could sit a little closer without falling off the edge of the bed.

Instead he was clung to by Stiles' shaking body. His hand fell on Stiles' middle back and Derek slowly rubbed up and down to sooth him.

A few minutes pass and Stiles' shaking has stopped, so Derek pulls away from the younger boy and reaches for his wrist. Stiles lets Derek grab his wrist and sees a light purple bruise forming, his eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

"I'm so sorry," Derek sighs, pulling Stiles against his chest, trying to hold back the tears that had gathered in his eyes.

His mate was hurt.

And it was all his fault.