Sterek fics

31 // kidnapped baby

TW: mentions of rape; age regression; kidnapping

No bruising,

Derek placed the last midterm paper into the tray at the front of his desk and sighed, finally leaning back in his chair. He spread his legs beneath his desk and stretched his arms high above his head, stretching out the kinks in his back that had knotted up from his hunching over his desk for hours grading papers. He was just as excited as his students were for spring break, even though he needed to prep for when they would return. When he relax again, his arms settling at his sides with his hands in his lap, he stared out at the empty chairs. The silence of the room was daunting.

Derek hated silence.

Derek hated empty spaces of utter silence; hated the way it made his chest ache. Pushing away the silence Derek stood up from his desk, grabbing his laptop back and coat and evacuating the cloying emptiness. The students and teachers bustling around outside did nothing for his headache but the noise and the movement made his heart slow and his stomach lift up from where it had burrowed six feet underground. A few of the students walking the halls waved at him and he politely waved back as he made his way to the parking lot. His car was right at the front, where he had parked it this morning and the afternoon sun made the leather and interior warm, soothing the goosebumps on his arms.

Once inside the safety of his car, with the engine running and the radio set to a random station, Derek forced himself to take a deep breath. He focused on the overplayed beat of the song instead of the clawing, hammering, deafening voice that was pounding at every inch of his brain. The persistent lump in his throat went down his throat with a hard swallow, scratching at his dry throat.

no visible scars,

With a steadying breath, Derek pulled out of his parking space and started through the maze of the parking lot towards the main road. He turned the volume of the radio up to twenty-five, filling every space of the car with loud noise that his thoughts couldn't speak over.

He would do this tomorrow and the next day and the next week and possibly the same time next year. It was always the same and Derek wasn't sure if anything would ever change. Even if nothing was loud enough to drown out the sinking in his gut and the screaming in his head, he would fill every silence with noise just to try. He would try to smother the flames of his voice with noise.

signs of rape with no scarring or internal damage,

For forty minutes he would drive with the radio turned to a high setting, his head pounding with an infinite headache until he got to his cozy cottage and he could sit in his tiny study and research. The dead-ends and labyrinth-like/weak leads would drive him crazy for however many hours he could squeeze in until Cora eventually dragged him away from his study.

and the mental age of a five year old

The phone rang.

Derek's heart clenched when he looked at the caller I.D and it flashed the name of one John Stilinksi. His stomach dropped down to the floor of the car and his fingers clenched so hard that the steering wheel started to dent. The ringing kept going the further down the highway he went, trilling in his ears like nails against a chalkboard. His stomach was twisted itself into a tight, immaleable ball of pain and anxiety and fear. He feared this call. He feared the day when Sheriff Stilinski called and said they found him. They found him dead in a ditch just off of the highway with his organs up for sale on the black market.

The phone went to voicemail.

Derek was sure the Sheriff would take the hint, but then his phone pinged with a voicemail and the bluetooth was offering to read it out loud. Derek's hand shook when he clicked on it and his throat clenched when the Sheriffs voice started to speak.