Winchester

Chapter 7

Sam had dragged Stiles outside of the school and towards the Impala parked near his jeep. Dean had dropped Derek into the back seat of the Impala, slamming the door shut and walking up to meet Sam and Stiles.
"Thought you said werewolves arent real," Dean said with a raised eyebrow. Stiles glared at him, yanking his arm out of Sam's grip.
"If you hurt Derek I swear to God, you'll regret it," Stiles threatened, looking up at Dean.
"You're on the wrong side, Stiles," Sam said, staying behind Stiles in case the kid decided to bolt.
"No, you are," Stiles glared over his shoulder. "You're out numbered. Derek's pack will come for him and when they do you're gonna wish you never stepped foot in Beacon Hills."
Dean only looked amused. Stiles set his jaw. Doyle, Erica, Issac and Scott would come looking for Derek, and when they did Sam and Dean wouldn't stand a chance.
"Call Chris, tell him the Kanima is in the pool room," Dean said, looking from Stiles to Sam.
"What about him?" Sam asked, gesturing to Stiles. Stiles kept a brave front, glaring at Dean the whole time and schooling his labored breathing.
"He'll have to come along," Dean said. Stiles wouldn't have left Derek anyway. If they let him go, he would follow in the jeep.
Stiles got into the back with Derek. He was breathing heavily and grimacing. Stiles had to sit with Derek's head in his lap, the werewolf not being able to really move.
"You should've ran," Derek said through gritted teeth. Sam and Dean got into the front seat. Sam was on the phone, talking about Jackson like he wasn't a teenager they murdered. Sure, Jackson was a grade A asshole, and yeah Stiles had agreed to Derwk killing him, but that was a last resort thing. They hadn't found a cure yet.
"You do anything and I'll throw you into the trunk, got it?" Dean threatened, turning to look at Stiles. Stiles only nodded.
Derek's skin on his wrists sizzled and burned red where the rope held him. Usually he would be able to break the rope, but because of the last bit of venom in his system and the fact that it was doused in wolfsbane made Derek weak.
Stiles wished his phone worked, but spending so long in the pool with it in his back pocket destroyed it. He wanted to call Scott, or even his dad. Would this be considered voluntary kidnapping?
"When they stop, jump out of the car and run," Derek said quietly, looking up at Stiles. "Find Scott."
"I'm not leaving you," Stiles said just as quietly. Derek's eyebrows furrowed.
"Why?" He asked. Stiles glanced out the window, trying to figure out where they were going.
"They're hunters," Stiles answered. "They'll kill you. I'm not gonna leave."
"What can you do?" Derek asked. They passed the welcome sign, meaning they were leaving Beacon Hills.
"I dont know," Stiles confessed. "But friends don't leave friends to die."
*-*
Sam and Dean had taken the werewolf and Stiles to an abandoned barn about a mile outside of town.
Stiles didn't fight when Dean pulled his arm to get him out of the car, nor did he try to run when he walked Stiles into the barn.
Stiles set his jaw at the set up. There were two car batteries sitting on the floor, both had jumper cables running from them to a metal rod drilled to the barn wall. The rod was rusted and looked like it had been there a long time.
Sam brought Derek to the set up and used metal handcuffs to cuff him to the rod.
"You came prepared," Stiles snapped, disgusted as Dean brought him to a wooden pillar on the other side of the barn.
"Sit," Dean said, ignoring his comment. Stiles didn't move, so Dean grabbed him by the shoulder and pushed him to the ground.
"My dad will know I'm missing," Stiles warned. "Don't think I wont tell him who you are!"
"Your dad knows who we are," Dean said evenly, kneeling behind Stiles and retching his arms back.
"As for him knowing you're missing," he added, tying Stiles' wrists tightly around the pillar. "He's not going to notice."
"The pack will," Stiles said. Dean stood back up, moving to squat in front of Stiles.
"I'm counting on it, kid," he grinned. Stiles glared at him, kicking at the hay floor by Dean's feet and tugging at his bindings.
"Just sit tight," Dean said, standing again. "We don't want to hurt you, but we don't want you in the way either."
*-*
It hadn't been more than three minutes of talking when Dean pulled a blade on Derek. Stiles watched helplessly as Dean cut into Derek's chest, ripping through the shirt he wore and making the werewolf grit his teeth.
The wound healed and Dean asked again, "where is your pack."
Stiles tugged at the restraights, the rope cutting deeply into his skin. Dean sure knew how to tie a knot.
When Derek didnt answer Dean cut deeper. This went on for what felt like ages.
Stiles tried talking the two out of it, tried threatening, bargaining, but nothing worked.
Stiles kicked and pulled at the ropes when Dean reached for a water bottle beside one of the car batteries. It had little purple flowers inside.
"No, stop, Dean don't!" Stiles shouted, watching him drip the wolfsbane water onto the knife. Derek kept a stony face.
"Stop! You're gonna kill him!"
Dean glanced back at Stiles, before looking up at Derek.
"One last chance."
Derek set his jaw. The knife dug into the flesh of Derek's shoulder and he let out a painful howl, his body tensing and shaking. His breaths came out in growled huffs as he tried to fight through the pain. Dean let the knife stay there.
"Tell me where the rest of the pack is," Dean demanded.
"Bite me," Derek growled, teeth sharp and eyes a deep red.
Stiles pulled at his wrists again.
"Stop, Dean I swear to God I'll kill you if you hurt him!" He yelled. He couldn't watch Derek get hurt, and he knew Derek would die before he told Sam and Dean where the others were.
Dean still didn't respond to Stiles, barely acknowledged him. Instead he looked over at Sam and nodded once. Stiles' eyes widened.
"Wait! I know where they are!" Stiles shouted before Sam could turn on the batteries.
"Stiles," Derek growled. "Don't."
Dean walked over to where Stiles sat and cocked an eyebrow. "Please, share with the class."
Stiles' breathing was labored, and he looked from Derek to Dean before speaking.
"You'll have to let us go first," Stiles said. Dean cocked an eyebrow.
"I dont think so," he said a bit in amusement.
"Stiles, don't tell them anything," Derek demanded, glaring at Stiles, who was borderline hyperventilating.
"That's my deal," Stiles continued. "Let us go and you'll get the pack."
"You think I'm new to this?" Dean asked, kneeling in front of Stiles and scowling.
"I think you're in over your head and out numbered," Stiles countered.
The two locked eyes, each one willing the other to break.
"We don't have time for this," he huffed, standing to his feet. "Turn it on."
"No!"
Sparks from the jumper cable clamps lit up the space around Derek, a current of electricity running through his body.
He sneered, not making a sound and convulsing where he stood. When it stopped Derek sagged, gasping for breath.
"We can do this all night," Dean warned. "Tell me where your pack is and I'll kill you quick."
Derek looked up, eyes first locking on Stiles, who looked about ready to cry, then up at Dean.
"No."