Where Do We Go From Here?

Chapter 8


Stiles groaned, Fucking alarm clock, he tried to reach for it to silence the annoying beeping, but his arm wouldn’t move. What time is it? Shit, am I going to be late for school? I don’t even remember setting an alarm last night…


He tried to push through the thick fog clouding his head, Did I get drunk last night? No, I was at Derek’s. We were having a movie night with Isaac and Allison and Scott-

Stiles’s eyes flew open. “Scott,” he mumbled as he looked groggily about the darkened room. A monitor to his left beeped away steadily, an IV protruded from his left elbow, and thick white bandages covered his chest. He lifted his right hand and gingerly pressed it to his chest, surveying the damage. He stifled a moan and his eyes screwed shut against the pain. Okay, don’t do that again, he thought. He brought his hand back down to the bed and noticed there was someone else sleeping on it. Derek was slumped over the bed, nearly falling out of his chair, head cradled on his elbows. Stiles smiled and lightly brushed his fingers through the soft, dark hair at the crown of his head.

Derek stirred; he looked up and the anguish in his eyes was instantly replaced with relief as he met Stiles’s gaze. “You’re awake,” he whispered and grabbed Stiles’s hand.

“Derek,” Stiles started, “What happened to your face?” Gauze covered the wolf from his cheek down to his collarbone.

And then it all came back. Scott. He needed to find Scott.

He tried to sit up, “Where’s Scott?”

“Far away, if he knows what’s good for him,” Derek growled and gently pushed Stiles back down. Stiles grimaced when Derek came into contact with the deep gashes Scott had left.

“No, Derek, you don’t understand. He’s-”

“Sick, yeah, I know. It was the last thing you said before you passed out in my arms,” Derek’s voice was laced with pain, “I know you’re worried about him, but I can’t quite forget the feeling of you bleeding out all over me, so excuse me if I don’t race out there and try to find him.”

“Well is anyone with him? Do we know where he is?”

“Allison and her dad are tracking him,” Isaac said from the doorway. He sat down in the chair next to Derek and passed him a coffee, taking a sip of his own, “No word from them yet, but they know he’s somewhere in the reserve.”

Stiles closed his eyes, relieved. At least someone was out there looking for him. He knew Scott would blame himself for what happened; he would never be able to forgive himself for losing control, for nearly killing his best friend. He was in no shape to be roaming the woods alone. Stiles’s head swam with pain and exhaustion, not to mention the pain meds he was sure were being pumped through him. Derek sensed Stiles’s discomfort and began to leech Stiles’s pain away, veins blackening as he gripped Stiles’s hand.

Stiles yanked his hand away, “You have your own healing to do.”

"Stiles, I'm so sorry," Derek whispered, "If I hadn't lost control Scott would never have-"

"Der, some couples would consider what you did foreplay. Scott's the one who lost control." Derek still looked guilty, so Stiles took his hand again, “Besides, I’m going to be fine, right? Or am I secretly dying and everyone forgot to tell me?”

“There was some internal bleeding, but they took you into surgery and sewed you up,” Isaac forced his voice to sound upbeat.

“You died for a moment,” Derek said miserably, “in the ambulance. They brought you back by the time we got the hospital”

That rattled Stiles. He swallowed the panic he felt rising in his chest, “Beacon General’s finest. I should send them an Edible Arrangement or something.” No one laughed; the three boys fell into a tight, stunned silence. Stiles eyed the gauze on Derek’s face and the bandages that peeked from under his shirt, “I can’t believe you let the doctors touch you.”

“He didn’t,” Isaac said, “He literally freaked out every time someone tried to examine him.”

“It’ll heal,” Derek scowled, “Anyway, I wanted to make sure you were treated right away. I told them we were hiking and were attacked by a mountain lion. They seemed convinced, but then they started fussing over me, and I just wanted to stay with you.”

“I don’t get it,” Stiles frowned, “What’s with the gauze then?”

“He was making such a scene in the waiting room, demanding to see you but not letting anyone near him, yelling and carrying on,” Isaac rolled his eyes at Derek, “that eventually Mrs. McCall took him into an exam room and patched him up.”

“Scott’s mom??” Stiles asked stupidly, “Does she know that her son did all of this?!”

Derek sighed, he looked exhausted,“I told her it was a rogue Alpha, and that Scott was with Allison and her father. She seemed to assume I was talking about Peter.”

“Peter…” Stiles trailed off, mind racing.

Isaac broke the silence, “What are you thinking?”

“Don’t you think it’s funny that Peter disappeared the same time Jennifer did? That he didn’t bother to say anything, not even to Derek?”

“I didn’t say anything eith-either…” Derek’s eyelids drooped, and he looked as if he were going to pass out. He made to stand, but he stumbled, crashing into the bedside table. Isaac caught him and lowered him into the chair.

“Stiles, what’s going on?” Isaac yelled in frustration.

Then it clicked. “Isaac,” Stiles ordered, “hand me my chart.”

“Your what?”

“My chart! The clipboard at the end of the bed!” He snatched it up as soon as Isaac handed it to him. “Derek,” he looked to where he sat, swaying and sweating in his chair, “they found traces of wolfsbane in my cuts.”

“What?!” both Betas cried.

“We need to find Scott. Now.”


Scott staggered through the woods, not bothering to be quiet. He had very little awareness of where he was; his werewolf senses seemed to have abandoned him. He crashed through a series of thick branches, not caring when they slashed his face and arms. Scott finally sank to his knees beneath an old oak tree, too exhausted to continue. The world was tilting bizarrely and he struggled to make sense of everything that had happened. He’d hurt Stiles. He may have killed Stiles. No, Derek would take care of him. Derek wouldn’t let that happen. Scott panted; he couldn’t seem to take a deep enough breath. Was he having an asthma attack? How was that possible? He pushed himself up and stumbled forward. He had to go, he had to get away, away from what he’d done. He looked down at his hands as he walked. Whose blood was that? He couldn’t remember…

He looked up. Through the moonlit clearing he could see a figure coming towards him.

“Stay away from me,” he tried to warn them, “Stiles…?”

His friend shuffled slowly toward him. His clothes were bloody from five deep gashes across his chest that glistened sickeningly in the moonlight.

“Stiles, thank God,” Scott said hurriedly, “I was afraid you were dead. Come on, we need to get you out of here.”

“How could you do this to me Scott?” his voice echoed strangely; it sounded hollow, dead, “How could you take everything away from me when it was finally going right? Were you jealous? Jealous that I finally had with Derek what you couldn’t have with Allison?”

“Stiles no, I-” his voice broke, “I just lost control. I’m so sorry Stiles…”

“You’re pathetic,” the voice was stronger now, and colder, “You couldn’t stand the idea of things working out for me and not for you! It’s always about you, isn’t it Scott? You know, Peter could’ve just as easily have bitten me. How would life have been for you then? You wouldn’t have been good at lacrosse, Allison never would have even looked at you, you would’ve been nothing, weak, powerless, nothing. Well look around you Scotty, look where you are. You had all this power - you’re an Alpha - but you’re still nothing.”

Scott was back on the ground, his friend looming over him, slowly but steadily approaching him. “Stiles, please,” he whispered weakly.

“I can tell you one thing,” the boy leaned over to whisper in Scott’s ear and Scott screwed his eyes shut against the chill of Stiles’s breath, “I wouldn’t have wasted the bite.”

Scott’s eyes flew open and he was utterly alone in the clearing.


“Wolfsbane, yeah,” Isaac listened as Allison spoke on the other end of the line, “I don’t know, he was drugged somehow. But that’s why Derek’s not healing. What?… Yeah, Stiles is talking to Deaton right now.”

Isaac looked to the bed where Stiles was deep in conversation with the emissary. “Al? Al, I have to go. I’m going to help get Derek to Deaton’s and then I’ll come meet you… Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Alright, see you soon.”

Stiles hung up as well. “Deaton’ll be here in ten,” his gaze fell to Derek who was curled up and shaking on the bed next to him, “Der? Did you hear that? Isaac’s gonna help you into Deaton’s car. He’s going to fix you up at the clinic okay?” He smoothed Derek’s damp hair.

“I’m not leaving you,” Derek said stubbornly through chattering teeth.

“It’s not really a choice,” Stiles continued stroking his hair, “You can’t stay here, people will think you’re a drug addict going through withdrawal. Then they’ll definitely want to admit you.”

Derek chuckled, “And when I start puking black blood…?”

“Oh yeah, you will not still be in my bed by the time that happens,” Stiles tipped Derek’s face so he was looking up at him. “Hey, I’m fine. I’m fine. The best place for me to be is right here and the best place for you is at Deaton’s. Isaac and Allison are going to find Scott and we’ll figure the rest out. But right now you and I both need to heal and we can’t do that if we’re together.”

“Isaac,” Derek called; the Beta had retreated to the doorway but he returned at Derek’s call, “I want you to stay with Stiles.”

“Isaac is going to look for Scott, Derek. He could be dying out there in the woods. I’m safe here; Scott is the priority.”

“Yeah, Derek, I’d rather be out in the woods-” Isaac began.

“Stay with Stiles,” Derek’s eyes flashed blue, “I may not be your Alpha anymore, but I could still kick your ass. This is not a negotiation. Allison and her dad can handle it, you need to stay here.”

Isaac looked hurt that Derek would pull rank like that, but he pulled out his phone, “I’ll just let Allison know then.”

Stiles turned to Derek once Isaac had left, “I’m not going to try anything stupid, you know. You didn’t have to assign me a guard dog.”

Derek mumbled, “Better safe than sorry,” and promptly passed out.

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