Help me save my balls? (Sterek)

Chapter 18

Stiles' POV

"What do you mean you don't know how?" I hear Derek say impatiently.

"Well there's not exactly an automatic door!" I shout down at him.

"Fine, I'll try from inside." He shouts "not like I was unconscious from an unknown drug and in a huge fucking net recently." He says.

"My day wasn't exactly peachy either!" I shout back and he goes silent for a short while before saying in a small voice

"Are you ok?" I'm a bit taken aback at that. He sounds so small. I'm tempted to say something sarcastic or assholey, but I just couldn't do that to him.

"Yeah I'm good thanks, why?" I settle on in the end.

"You smell of blood." He states. I look down at myself and notice I am a little covered in blood, but it's definitely not mine, my skin's not broken anywhere.

"It's not my blood." I say.

"Oh."

"What about you? You look in pretty bad shape last time I saw you."

"Little woozy, but I'm good. I'm not in the best of situations."

"Describe what it's like down there to me, describe how you're positioned." I ask. Maybe if I know what it's like on the inside, I'll be able to figure out how to pop this safe.

"I can't see much-"

"Some werewolf powers you have." I snort.

"Stiles?"

"Shutting up." And he exhales an amused breath. By this time, I'm sitting with my back leant against the tree and my feet stretched out in front of me. The long shadows caused by the late hour create an eerie effect that gives me shivers if I concentrate on the surrounding woods, so instead, I lean my head back to look up at the leaves and the evening sky looming above me. I strain my ears and concentrate on the sound of Derek's voice resonating out of his wooden prison.

"Thank you." What wrong with him? Where's the old Derek? Where's my grumpy sourwolf? Come to think of it, he's not been grumpy at all this 'holiday'. He's been practically pleasant! "Uh, it's so pretty dark down here, but it's all hollowed out wood." Uh duh... It's a tree? "But I was in like a coffin shaped hole thing and I wiggled out, now I'm just holding on to the ledge at the edge of it. There's a drop off that I can't see the bottom of, so I don't wanna drop down there, and I can't see or feel any way of getting up to your level."

"Great, sounds like you're in a really great position right now. How long can you hold on there for?" I ask, trying to be helpful.

"As long as I want." He says cockily.

"Yes Derek, we all know you're ripped, are you sure you can't like use your claws or something to climb your way upwards?"

"Uhh..." He says.

"You didn't think of that, did you?" I taunt and in response I get a small sound that is a little bit like no, but not enough.

"Did you?"

"No Stiles! I didn't! I was a bit preoccupied with... You know, being stuck in a hole and you being gone and the dart in my leg." He shouts. I was surprised I was able to cloud his judgement, and that he would admit to it is terrifying. I decide to gloss over it however for fear of him deciding to take it back.

"Ok, ok! Fine, just get your ass up here!" I shout and it's followed by some scraping sounds. They're rather frantic and uneven and last for a long while. They're constantly getting louder, proving that Derek was actually a lot further down than I originally thought.

They stop suddenly and Derek still sounds like he's not at the entrance yet.

"Derek?" I call out, turning my head to look at the tree. I don't get a response, so I call out again. "Derek? What's going on down there buddy?"

"Stiles..." I finally hear.

"Yeah?"

And in a rather terrified voice, Derek answers.

"I'm not alone down here..."

***

Isn't it all so dramatics?! When I started this, I thought it would maybe be 10 chapters, tops and just stuffed with fluff. Look at me now with all the cliffhangers!

I do promise though it isn't getting to intense! I think... I am pretty much just making it up as I go along...

Anyway, thanks a bunch for reading and voting and commenting and all that shizam. I'm kinda sad cus I always want to say something to every single comment, because I really do love seeing comments, but every time I do, that's counted towards the comment count, which practically doubles the amount of comments I'm actually getting so I feel bad about that... Doesn't mean I'm going to stop though, I love talking to you, why the hell are all you awesome people, a lot of you are awesome writer to, all reading this? It's amazing. :)