Warning: Cursing, Blood
Summary: Stiles is always there for Scott and Derek, but what can you do when everything you have done still isn't good enough.
Thanks to VCCV for being my beta. You've helped me out a lot.
I filled my lungs air, hoping it wouldn't be the last time, and tried to scream, but my cry was muffled with incredible force. Terror raced through my body, and I shoved at the larger figure. And he went. My brows met in a frown. That was too easy. I turned, expecting to see burning red eyes and bared canines. What I saw was Derek, staggering backwards, trying to stay on his feet. My eyes widened, and I flicked my hands out to grasp the front of his leather jacket, pulling him back towards me, trying to keep him upright. His nails dug into my shoulders, using me as leverage to keep his balance.
"You were going to scream like a girl, weren't you?" Derek's voice was barely above a whisper. He chuckled, but it didn't mask the pain.
"I don't scream like a girl," I answered automatically. "How'd you manage to get up here? You couldn't even walk three steps, let alone the ten bazillion it probably took to find me! How did you find me? Did you use your wolfy senses? Did you see the Alpha? I threw my coat as a distraction, but if you could find me, he could find me, right? Where is he, then? Is he still here?" I admit I might have sounded a bit panicked by that point, but I don't think my concern merited having Derek's half-hairy hand slapped over my mouth again.
"Shut up, Stiles." Derek's grip on my shoulder tightened as he tried to shake me one-handedly, but even that small movement, sent him teetering towards me, then away, his balance still off. I pulled him closer and tried to remind myself that moments away from being horrifically killed was not the time to indulge in his closeness.
His hand dropped from my mouth and weakly fell to his side. He looked like he was about to pass out any second. If he did, I had no idea how the hell I was going to drag his ass back down to the jeep by myself, while being hunted by the Alpha. I needed help.
"Where's Scott?" I asked. The last time I saw him, he was facedown and unconscious, but werewolves shook that off pretty quickly… right?
Derek gave a short laugh, which sounded more like a gurgle, to be honest. How much could a werewolf bleed out, anyway? "Scott's ass is shoved behind the passenger seat in your jeep. Which is where you need to be while the Alpha is distracted." He had to take a moment to catch his breath.
Derek tried to push me into moving, but all he managed to do was tip me to the right a little; he was too weak at this point to do anything on his own. I lifted his hands off my shoulders, and ducked under them. I pulled his arm over my shoulder wincing as the movement made him suck in a quick, pained breath, and wrapped my arm around his waist.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice high and thready.
"Saving your life. Again." I stated, tugging him forward to shut him up.
I pretty much dragged Derek through the parking garage, carrying the brunt of his weight. Holy shit he was heavy! It was all I could do to keep us both upright and moving. I hoped the Alpha would at least wait for me to drop Derek off before coming to eat me. Everything was going fine until Derek decided he wanted to play tug-a-war.
"Moving isn't making this any easier," I said irritably.
"I can walk…on my own," he protested, gasping out the last bit as we stumbled. He weakly pushed himself away from me, wobbled a bit and then fell back into me.
"Well, if you can, you've done a poor job of convincing me." I pulled his arm back around my shoulders.
"Just go on ahead of me. I can get out on my own." He once again tried to push me away, but this time I held him firmly in place.
"Why the hell are you being so stubborn?" I snapped. "Is it to protect your badass werewolf rep?"
"No." Derek's eyes darted up to mine, and he looked taken aback. "That's not the reason at all."
I waited patiently for about ten seconds, then huffed in annoyance and started dragging him again. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me the reason?" I don't know why I bothered asking; I already knew the answer.
Derek grunted at my rough handling and lurched forward, almost throwing me off balance as he tried to help me help him. I took it as his way of saying the conversation was done.
Now that I had Derek and basic walking skills to focus on, I realized I was slightly less terrified. I still thought the Alpha was going to jump out of every shadow, but whatever distraction Derek had provided seemed to be working. There was no sign of the Alpha. The rest of the walk was quiet, besides the occasional sound of Derek's feet dragging on the concrete. He tried as hard as he could to stay on his own feet, but he was only able to manage a step here and there.
I felt much better when we finally got outside the parking garage. Being outside the garage seemed to make my dream more like a dream and less like déjà vu. I was relieved to see my jeep sitting on the other side of the road. I tugged Derek the rest of the way there, practically carrying him now. I leaned him up against the frame of the vehicle so I could pull the passenger side door open. I heaved him into the seat and slammed the door.
As I climbed in, I could see Scott's foot poking up out of the back seat where Derek had crammed him. "Scott looks comfortable." I said sarcastically. I turned to look at Derek; he was still awake but just barely. Certainly not enough to appreciate my humor.
I began rummaging through my pockets for my keys. Front pockets, back pockets, nothing. "Where the hell'd they go?" I muttered. Then I realized the only place they could be.
I let out a frustrated sigh and threw my door open. My left leg was the only thing that made it out the door before Derek's hand shot out to grab my wrist. He was so weak that I could have broken his hold, but I couldn't bring myself to when I saw his hand shaking. His grip on my wrist slowly loosened. He was battling himself to stay conscious his eyes closing and then snapping back open.
"Stiles," he rasped. It looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't have the energy to form words.
"I'll be back," I reassured him. "I have to find my keys." I wished I knew how to jump-start a car. Going back into that building was right below 'dying' on my list of things not to do. I climbed the rest of the way out of my jeep, Derek's hand sliding limply off my wrist. I left my door open, giving Derek's still form one last concerned frown, and headed back across the road. I hesitated out on the sidewalk; staring at the concrete death trap, I'd just made it out of. I hoped whatever Derek had done would keep the Alpha occupied a little longer, because if I didn't find those keys, none of us would be able to leave.
I pulled myself together and stepped into the strip of dirt that divided the ramp of the garage and sidewalk. As I lifted my foot up to take another step, the slight jingle of metal traveled to my ears. I could have passed out in relief. I looked down, and lo and behold, there were my keys. I knelt down to scoop them up, and then I paused absently fiddling with my keys. Something didn't feel right.
I remembered shoving my hands into my coat pockets when I arrived, depositing my keys in their usual spot. I remembered them jingling as I ran from the Alpha. I remembered ditching my coat to throw the Alpha off.
My eyes widened in revelation.
Panicked, I popped up like a spring, only to catch my foot on my other leg. I skidded in the dirt, landing on my ass. The only thing I successfully managed was to keep hold of my keys. I untangled my legs and tried to push myself up when I felt fear skitter over my back like a living thing. Slowly, I turned to look at the entrance.
The Alpha stood, a menacing figure in the darkened entryway, eyes glowing a dark red. He didn't hesitate. He just went in for the kill.
He crossed the expanse of the ramp in the blink of an eye. Frantically, I scrambled for something useful. I scraped up a fistful of dirt, and fought dirty. The dirt hit the Alpha's eyes and the evil red faltered for a moment. He reeled back, yelping and rubbing at his eyes.
I flew to my feet and back to my jeep, terrifyingly aware that a fistful of dirt wasn't going to stop the Alpha for long. I dove in, slammed the door and shoved the key into the ignition. I actually felt tears of joy as the engine roared to life. I dropped it into gear and shot a glance towards the entrance.
Fuck. Where the hell was he?
The driver's side window shattered. Instinctively I ducked to avoid the shard of glass flying everywhere. Instinct served me well as the Alpha had made a grab for me when I ducked, he still snagged me, his claws sinking into my back but he'd missed taking my head off.
"Fuck!" I screamed as four lines of fire erupted on my back. I slapped vainly at the huge, hairy-clawed hand and slammed my foot down on the gas. The hand slipped out of the jeep and the tires screeched as I laid rubber. I drove like hell, screeching around corners and driving through alleys, trying to lose the damn behemoth. Ridiculously, I thought about the call my dad was going to get while he was on patrol. Destruction of property. Disturbing the peace. Unleashed pet. I laughed a bit insanely and prayed the Alpha was done for the night.
After an absurd number of corners and alleys, it was clear that the Alpha was no longer behind us. I drove the rest of the way to my house. By that time, I was hunched forward, the claw mark sending shockwaves of pain up my back. I pulled into my driveway and killed the engine. A quick glance showed both werewolves were still out cold. Heading to the other side of the jeep, I flung open the passenger door, Derek's body slid out and I just barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground.
Since he was half thrown over my shoulder anyway, I grabbed his arm and heaved him up over my back. The claw marks screamed in agony, but I managed to make it through the front door. Then the next obstacle reared its head: the stairs. I grabbed Derek under the arms and clumsily dragged him step by step up to my room. I finally dumped him just inside the door before heading out to get Scott. Scott was easy to get inside, he weighed half the weight of what Derek did but I had to get him unwedged first. I dropped him next to Derek and collapsed on the floor near them. I wanted to just roll over and go to sleep; hoping this shitty, shitty night was all part of another dream.
Unfortunately, the growing red patches on Derek's shirt told me differently. If I didn't get the two of them cleaned up, fast, not only would there be a huge bloodstain in my carpet I'd have to explain to my dad, but Derek wouldn't have enough blood left in him to heal. Their clothes came off quickly enough with the judicious help of scissors, though I didn't dare cut Derek's leather jacket.
When the two of them were clad in only their boxers, I could get a closer look at the damage. Derek's two major wounds, the ones leaking blood like a sieve onto my carpet were the claw marks on his chest and the bite on his forearm. I found out by trying to put pressure on the wounds, all they really needed was to be pushed closed to begin knitting on their own. Once I was assured Derek wasn't going to die on me, I turned my attention to the rest of him. There were little things like the bruises on his knuckles, and occasional cuts and scrapes, but overall, his body was taking care of him quite nicely. I went through most of the washcloths, gently cleaning the blood from Derek's chest. When I finished cleaning the dirt and blood away, I propped him up to wrap a bandage around his torso, then turned to Scott.
Scott had a large bruise forming across his abdomen from the Alpha's arm, and a large lump from where his head hit the wall. I couldn't find any gaping wounds, just small scrapes and cuts, so I soaked a washcloth in water, and wiped the dirt and blood from his face. I scrubbed his knuckles and saw the bruises forming and suddenly, I had no idea why I'd been so mad at him. He could have died. They both could have died. Fuck, I could have died!
I threw a blanket over them and I headed to the bathroom to take care of my own wound. I used the wall to guide me, and when I got inside, I collapsed against the sink. My body felt weak, and my head pounded. Now that I didn't need the adrenaline anymore, my body was disagreeing with the sudden drop in energy. The room faded in and out, and my grip loosened on the sink. I was too tired to care that I was falling. I caught of glimpse of the toilet as my head hit it and I let the darkness pull me under before I even landed.