Winchester

Chapter 8

Dean and Sam had left not long ago, not getting anywhere with Derek. Stiles took that time trying to untie himself. Derek was slumped forward, breathing heavy.
Stiles got one of the loops loose enough to pull his hand through, the rope pulling and irritating his skin as he rotated his hand back and forth until the rope was off.
He quickly pulled his arms forward, wincing at the muscles in his shoulders. He tugged the other rope off before jumping to his feet and running to where Derek stood.
"Hey, hey, Derek," Stiles whispered quickly. Derek lifted his head, not saying a word.
"Okay, I'm gonna get you out of here, just hold on."
He grabbed the bomber jacket sitting next to the battery packs, rifling through the pockets and grabbing the keys to the hand cuffs.
He scrambled back to Derek, uncuffing one hand. Derek slumped forward and growled a bit in pain at the knife still lodged in his shoulder.
Stiles uncuffed the second one and quickly wrapped an arm around Derek's middle.
"We gotta go," Stiles said, heading for the back of the barn.
"Just, set me down," Derek said. "Over there."
"What? No we have to leave!" Stiles whisper yelled.
"Trust me," Derek grunted. Stiles hesitated before carrying Derek over to a small stall. He helped Derek onto the floor before squatting in front of him.
"What now?" Stiles asked breathlessly. Derek grabbed at the knife embedded in his shoulder and yanked it out. Stiles had to look away to keep from being sick.
"Now we be quiet," Derek said. Stiles didn't think this plan was gonna work, but he nodded and sat down. Derek handed the knife to Stiles.
"If they see us, use this."
"I can't kill anyone-"
"Not kill," Derek interrupted. "Swipe it at them, hurt them if you have to."
Stiles swallowed thickly, his knuckles white around the knife.
"Where'd they go?" Stiles heard. He stopped breathing, going rigged.
"Damn kid broke through the rope," Dean sneered.
"The werewolf was pretty hurt, I don't think they got far, let's go," Sam said. Derek and Stiles held their breath as Dean cursed and followed his brother out of the barn.
Neither one moved for a few minutes. "Okay, let's go," Derek said, getting to his feet. Stiles did as well, the two rushing out of the barn.
It was dark out, and Stiles stumbled over sticks and holes. Derek was still hurt from the wolfsbane, but now that the blade was out, Stiles knew he would start to heel soon.
"How are we going to get back into town?" Stiles asked, having to jog to keep up with Derek. "We're a mile away."
"We're not going to town," Derek said.
"Where are we going?" Stiles asked.
Derek didn't say anything, the two making their way west. They reached the East Hills river that cut through part of Beacon Hills and Derek jumped in, the water reaching his hips.
Stiles followed, not as gracefully. He ended up sliding in and dropping under water. He stood up and sputtered. "I'm okay," he said.
"Didn't ask," Derek commented, wading through the waist deep water. Stiles glowered, following behind.
After a while, the water got deeper and the two had to swim. Stiles grumbled, still not fully rested from their first swim today, but he kept up with Derek.
When they reached Beacon Hills, the two climbed out of the water. They were right by the high school.
"Do you still have your keys?" Derek asked quietly, the two of them hidden in someone's back yard.
Stiles fished through his pocket, pulling out the keys and holding them up for Derek to see.
The two stayed low, running across the yard and into the school parking lot. They both got into the jeep, Stiles starting it and pulling out of the driveway.
"Where are we going?" Stiles asked.
"My house," Derek said. Stiles only nodded, driving back out of town. The Hale house was just near the woodland pond, buried deep in the wildlife preserve.
Stiles didn't relax until they passed the last neighborhood, the road turning into dirt. Stiles knew the way to the Hale house, he could drive there with his eyes closed.
When he reached it, he pulled around the back of the house, cutting the engine and looking at Derek.
"Its the safest place I could think of," Derek explained before stepping out of the vehicle. Stiles got out too, following Derek inside.
Derek lead Stiles up the stairs to one of the only rooms with four walls and most of a roof.
There was an old mattress on the floor with a sleeping bag and a flat pillow. Stiles blinked, looking from the bed to Derek. Had Derek been sleeping like this the whole time?
Derek walked to the cardboard box, lighting a candle before turning to Stiles.
"You can sleep on the bed," he sighed. "I'll take you home in the morning when it's safe."
Stiles nodded mutely, scuffling over to the bed and sitting down. Derek also sat down, his back leaning against the charred wall beside the mattress.
Stiles frowned a bit. "What?" Derek asked with a sigh.
"You could've left without me," Stiles said softly. "When I got you out, you didn't have to take me with you. Why?"
Derek didn't say anything for a long moment, and Stiles had just decided he wasn't planning on it when Derek did.
"Scott would've bit my head off if I let you die," he said. "Plus, now we're even."
Stiles looked down at his feet, picking at the skin around his nails. "Get some sleep."
Stiles didn't know why he was hurt by that answer. He didn't know what he wanted to hear, but he was disappointed and a bit hurt when Derek gave him an answer.
He laid down on the bed, not getting in the sleeping bag. The pillow smelt like the woods, mixed with a smell Stiles had occasionally sniffed when Derek was around.
Derek stayed awake, waiting for Stiles' breathing to even out. He let his head rest against the wall, allowing his body to heal itself as he thought.
Why had Stiles risked his life for Derek? Derek was under the assumption Stiles hated him. It confused Derek and made him think about all of their previous interactions. Stiles had always seemed put off by Derek, distant and untrusting. Why'd Stiles stay? The kid couldn't do anything to protect himself, let alone keep Derek from harm.