Chapter Text
“Stiles, my phone cost me a ton load of money. Don’t make me put it through a wall.”
Scott was standing in the rear side of the animal clinical. He had been taking care of trash when his friend had called. His was now gripping his phone with more force than necessary.
“Scott, I’m serious,” came the voice of Stiles, sounding urgent and a bit on the high-side of panicky, “It’s Derek. The woman and her missing baby, Allison, Wendigos, its all Derek!”
“Stiles,” said Scott, his voice deceptively calm, “I am starting to feel a great desire to come over there, right this instant, and put my claws through your gut.” Scott kicked a can that was rolling empty on the darkened alley street. It echoed loudly when his foot connected to it, and went soaring in the air, falling twenty metres away. “But I’m gonna ignore that feeling and hang up now, because I have better things to do.”
“Scott! No! Listen!” said Stiles, his voice “Don’t just dismiss it, just because you don’t like it! I have proof! Lydia is here. You can talk to her if you don’t believe me!”
Scott could feel the way it was pressed against it temple, too hard. He had to be double careful, not to break his phone now.
“Stiles, what are you saying?”
“Scotty,” said Stiles, sounding a little upset now, “I’m sorry but we just got a call from Parish. There’s been an incident again. In the hospital this time. The camera’s caught him clearly. Derek, I mean. In the same room. Nobody else was there but him.”
Scott started pacing up and down the alley. There was a ringing sound somewhere, that was making his head hurt. He could hear Stiles, though. As much as he didn’t want to.
“What room, Stiles?”
“There was a pregnant woman. She miscarried. The remains went missing from that room right after. And the camera shows Derek entering the room alone, at about the same time. But then something weird happens. He leaves and comes back again with your Mom. Then they both leave. But it’s kind of obvious now what is happening, Scott. As much as I feel like I’m going crazy saying this out loud. But its true, buddy. Derek’s collecting dead things. At least, that’s where everything is pointing to. I don’t know for what he’s doing with it. We haven’t figured that out, yet. But there’s a pattern and its kind of hard to miss.”
“Mom was there?” said Scott, ignoring everything else that was said. He could hardly recognize his voice. He could hardly believe any of it was happening. It sounded like a joke was being played on him. It sounded like one of his nightmares.
“Mom is safe,” said Stiles, quickly reassuring. “I haven’t talked to her yet, Parish said she was okay. But, Derek -”
“Derek what?”
“He’s, well, missing.”
“You are making this up,” said Scott, “It doesn’t make any sense. Did you take Adderall, Stiles?”
“Scott!” said Stiles, his voice admonishing now.
Scott knew how easy it was to blame things on Derek. He had been one of those people, not so long ago. He hadn’t known Derek then, though.
Now it was different. Derek was pack. Derek was his beta. Stiles knew that. Stiles knew that no matter how much Derek might not want to be with Scott, he would never do anything to betray their pack or what they stood for. Derek valued the pack too much for that. Scott knew, Derek valued him too much for that.
To suspect Derek, was like suspecting Scott.
Scott felt anger surge through him like electricity
“I’m gonna hang up, now, Stiles,” said Scott. He was only still speaking because this was Stiles. If it had been anyone else, he would have quit the conversation even before it had started. He pulled the phone away from his ear, and was about to disconnect the call, when he heard Stiles’ voice yelling through the other end. He cursed his heightened senses.
“The smell!” came Stiles voice, his words rushing out in a fast tumble, “Remember the smell on him yesterday! Do you know why he smelled like somebody else’s ‘business’, Scott? Because he’s being hiding his own scent under unwashed clothes of random dudes. He’s been borrowing them from Lydia. It was a jacket that belonged to one of Lydia’s stupid hanger-on, that made you go off the deep end! He borrowed it from her yesterday. He was there at school with her, when they spotted the Wendigos. But he was gone before we got there. He was gone! Why did he leave Scott? When he could have taken care of it as easily as he did later? That’s also when the murder happened Scott! You see what I’m saying? These can’t be coincidences. He’s changed, Scott. He’s turned to something else. I’m not making this up, Scott, you need to listen to me! We need to find him, ASAP. Scott! Are you there? Scotty!”
Scott’s hand that was clutching his phone, hung loose on his side. He wasn’t about to answer. His mind raced. Stiles words made very less sense to him. He couldn’t see the pattern. He couldn’t call what story Stiles had cooked up as “evidence”. Everything Stiles said was circumstantial. Not solid evidence. Not proof. There was no way Scott was going to believe Derek had anything to do with the murder, or the missing remains his dead friend.
But Scott’s body was assaulting him with eight different emotions, and he wasn’t sure if he was comprehending what was happening, logically. All he could think of at the moment, was that Derek was hiding something.
Derek had been hiding something from him all along. He knew at least that to be true. He had been too distracted by his own emotions and misgivings, but now that he thought about it, he could see it as plain as a day. Derek had been withdrawing from him more than usual. Derek had gotten dismissive and angry every time Scott had gotten close to him, even if it was only as his alpha. Derek had been avoiding Scott as much as he could, even before the kiss.
Derek hadn’t been angry when Scott had kissed him, yesterday.
He had been afraid.
Derek couldn’t be causing trouble. Scott felt sure about this, too. No, he was in trouble, and he was afraid he would somehow screw things up, and make a mess again. Shame Scott, again. Disappoint Scott, again. He must have run off to some isolated place so that he could drag no one into trouble with him. A ‘in danger Derek’, meant a lone-wolf Derek.That’s how Derek worked. That’s where Derek was at now. Somewhere alone. Somewhere nobody could reach him
Scott disconnected the call.
All he had to do now was find the real culprit, without wasting anymore time. Before Derek got himself even more deeper into his own imagined pit.
He turned to head back into the clinic. Deaton would be back shortly and would know better than the teens how to figure this mess out. He would be able to point out to Scott a constructive way to help Derek and stop the murders and put Allison’s body back to her rest.
But at that exact moment, he heard the tin can he had kicked earlier, crunch noisily. Someone had stepped on it.
Scott stopped, but didn’t turn back.
His hair stood on end. There was a strong stench of a man he didn’t recognize. And that told him, it was Derek.
Of all the emotions Scott had been feeling only a second before, anger was still the dominant one of them. He held on to it like an anchor, in the whirlwind of emotions that was surging through him.
What an irony, thought Scott.
Before he knew it, Scott fell on his hands and crouched, glowering at the man before him. He could see the tall figure, then. He could see his eyes. They were golden.
A low growl escaped Scott and within a fraction of a second, he had Derek up by the wall, breathing into his face. Breathing in a complete stranger’s scent.
“Sc-scott,” said Derek, his voice strangely uneven. “You know, then.”
A look of resignation was on his face. A look of defeat so complete, it made Scott feel like someone had just kicked him in his gut.
“What do I know, Derek?” said Scott, still not letting go of his hold on the man. In fact, he drew them both closer to each other. He wanted to know where that vile smell was coming from. He wanted it away from Derek. He wanted Derek to smell nothing like it.
When he nosed up the man’s jaw, connecting with his prickly stubble, Derek shuddered. Scott could hear his heart beat go off-kilter, slow now, then rapid again, slow again, then crazy fast. Derek caught hold of Scott's arm, and held it in a deadly grip.
Scott could smell Derek, now. It’s was overpowering whatever piece of cloth he was carrying, and the smell screamed of only one emotion.
Fear.
Very afraid, indeed, but he wasn’t averse to Scott’s nearness. Scott had no reason to stop and think what he was doing. He didn’t feel that there was a need. Derek wasn’t resisting. He looked resigned. Scott had caught him red-handed.
Scott sneered like a demon as he tore Derek’s back pocket with his claws. He didn’t even bother to look at what piece of disgusting garment he held, and threw it as far away as his abilities allowed him too.
“What do I know, Derek?” repeated Scott, spitting flying as he spoke, “If you mean I know you are hiding things, crucial things from me, yes I know! If you mean I know you have been covering up your scent, under some random dude’s dirty laundry, I know that too! Do I know you don’t have an alibi for when the first murder happened and that you were there in the same damn room when the second incident happened? Yes I do! I also know on top of all that, you have an awesome track record for screwing up things that could have been solved in a very, very simple way, if only you had manned up for a second and told someone about it!”
Derek visibly swallowed. His eyes were wide, his heart beat was going crazy. Scott felt blood drip from his arm, where Derek was digging in his claws. Scott had never seen him look like this before. Not once, not even in the face of death. He looked absolutely terrified.
“Scott, I -”
“Who’s controlling you?” said Scott, seething. “Who got you into this mess! Tell me, Derek! What are you hiding from me? Who is it?”
Derek stumbled back, letting go of Scott.His brows bunched together in a frown. He looked at Scott, who was still heaving with every breath he took. He looked on for a second more, golden eyes searching ren one’s, frantically. Then his expression changed to that of wonderment. He looked at Scott, like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing in front of him, like he couldn’t believe what Scott had just said.
“It was me, Scott,” said Derek, “I killed the woman.”
Scott snorted. He took a step back, and crossed his arms.
“You don’t believe me,” said Derek, cocking an eyebrow.
“And Allison's body? Stashed it in the back of your car?”
“Scott,” said Derek, jaws tightening and taking a step closer towards him. Scott had to admire him for that. Only a day before, Derek would have been willing to suffer extreme pain, if only he could avoid being close to Scott. “I’m being serious.”
“Do I look like I’m laughing?” said Scott, leering at him.
“Scott cut it out!” Derek was getting frustrated. There was no smell of fear, now. It occurred to Scott, that Derek was very distractible. At least, as far as he was concerned.
Scott leaned close to Derek’s ear.
“Tell me more,” said Scott, goading the man, “Go on, tell me.”
Derek was getting angry, now. But what was more interesting to Scott’s nose was the spike of other pheromones in the air.
“You know,” said Scott, lips almost brushing against his captive’s neck, “when Nogitsune took hold of Stiles, he came straight to me.”
Derek was trembling. Anger and arousal was equally there, mixing and thrilling Scott’s senses. Being an alpha did have its perks, after all.
“I know he’s my best friend and all, and of course, he would count on me,” continued Scott, his voice purring dangerously, as he spoke, “but I was led to believe that an alpha and his beta shared a unique connection. You know, respect, trust and all that. Seems like we are exception to that rule, yeah, Derek?”
Scott had snaked his hand to Derek’s throat and was pressing him against the wall. He could feel his breathe and the trouble he was having with it too.
“Scott -” started Derek, but Scott cut him off.
“Or maybe, you don’t need an alpha anymore?”
When Derek froze in his arms, his breathe completely still, Scott knew he had hit below the belt.
He didn’t take it back, though.
“I would have come to you if I could,” said Derek, his voice a little over a mumble. There was no anger. Nothing except dejection.
Scott released him.
Derek shoulders slumped. He wouldn’t look at him.
“But the thing is Scott, you were the last person, still are the last person I should be asking help from,” said Derek.
Scott felt his own anger loosen its hold on him.
“Are you saying that because of the way I behave towards you?” said Scott, looking away.
“Yes,” said Derek.
Scott pressed a hand to his face. He didn’t need to go through this a second time. It would be worse, this time, too. Derek was suggesting, Scott had become unreliable, even as an alpha, because of how much he was invested in Derek.
“So, it’s true,” said Scott, feeling a heavy weight settle in his stomach. He was still looking anywhere but at Derek. He didn't want to see the look of rejection on his face again. “You really couldn’t care less about me.”
Derek didn’t answer.
Scott looked up, he found Derek’s eyes tightly shut.
“Derek?” said Scott, nearing him again.
Green eyes looked at him with so much pain, for a second Scott couldn’t understand what he saw. But his instincts urged him or, and his hands found Derek’s face.
“Derek,” said Scott again, wondering why Derek wasn’t flinching away from his touch.
“You have no idea, Scott,” said Derek, looking miserable and lost. “You have no idea how or what I feel for you Scott.”
Scott let out a hollow laugh at that.
“Not for the lack of trying on my part,” said Scott. He traced his thumb against Derek’s cheek. Derek was still looking at him.
God, his eyes were beautiful.
It was a wonder to him, that Derek was letting him touch him, at all. May be, he would wake up from this magical trance soon, and push away Scott.
“It doesn’t matter, Scott,” said Derek, sadly.
“Does it really not matter?” asked Scott, leaning even closer, hovering over Derek. He could feel Derek’s warm breath now, hot against his cheek.
Scott’s intentions were clear this time. He wasn’t coming on to Derek out of no where. Derek was conscious of what was happening. His green eyes were wide open, and they were looking at Scott’s lips. They fluttered close when Scott titled his head and pressed a kiss to Derek’s jaw. Derek exhaled loud, his heart beat speeding up like he were running miles. Scott’s was in no better shape. He kissed him again, on his cheek, brushing against the sharp stubble, then he kissed the corner of his mouth.
Derek still didn't push him away.
Scott pulled back to look at him. His eyes were closed, eyebrows close-knit like he was in pain, and he was breathing through his mouth. Scott titled his head some more captured Derek’s lips, pressing urgently, like he were a thief who had only a second more before he would be seperated from his loot. His lips pleaded Derek’s lips to come to life. He bit his lower lip, pulling them and crushing them between his. It became a rude red under Scott’s ministrations.
Derek didn’t respond.
Feeling defeated, Scott was about to pull back, when suddenly, a hand came up to cup the back of his head, and forced him against Derek’s lips.
Then, they were kissing like they should have. Fierce and like in a battle, both of them not willing to let the other take control. When Derek deepened the kiss, his tongue lashing out against Scott's, sucking and snaking in and out, hungrily, Scott repayed in kind, equally fervent, moaning like he were a dying man. He gripped Derek’s neck and his claws scraped against the skin there, Derek let out a low growl and pressed up against him, which caused Scott's hardness to brush against Derek's and Scott's brain short-circuited. He bit his finger to stop himself from letting loose a howl into the night.
It struck him then. Somewhere in a corner of his brain, which was still functioning. .
Derek wanted him.
With what felt like pure exhilaration that ran through his veins now, Scott pulled Derek away from the wall in a violent tug. The other man was not expecting this, and the next second had them both tumbling onto the dirty alley surface, with Scott on top of Derek, ripping his Henley off.
Scott bent down and kissed Derek, again.
Then, a sharp sting rang through Scott’s ribs. He jerked and looked down between them, and Scott saw that Derek had a hand pressed up against him. He was pushing him away.
“What?” said Scott, his voice more of a bark than anything.
“Scott,” said Derek. He looked like he was struggling with himself. His eyes were yellow, golden flecks in them shining like neon, pupil fully blown with lust. He was panting like a dog. But the hand between them was determined. “Scott, I can’t - we can’t.”
“Derek” growled Scott, pushed the offending hand away. He bent to kiss Derek again, but the older man turned his face away. Scott ended up bumping his chin against Derek, and let out a painful yowl.
The pain was a distraction, and before Scott could do anything, Derek had him pushed away, was up and away from him. He stood five feet away, his Henley hanging around his hip in shreds. His eyes were still yellow. He was still breathing heavy.
“I was afraid something like this was going to happen,” said Derek, his voice wary.
Scott punched his fist on the pavement, in frustration and his hand went three inches into the concrete, sending up grey dust all around him.
“Can you for once, tell me, in clear terms whether or not you want me? And then tell me, what the fuck did we just do now if you really didn’t want me?”
Derek looked like he was being physically assaulted by the questions.
“I killed the pregnant woman,” said Derek, his voice hollow, “I stole the unborn children. And Allison’s body”
“Yeah, right,” said Scott, sarcasm dripping like acid from his mouth, “And then what? You ate them?”
Derek flinched, his eyes widening perceptibly. The fear was back again. A sharp tang, disturbing and sickly to Scott’s nose.
“Yes,” said Derek, his heart beat steady, and his voice deceptively devoid of any emotion, “That’s what I have been trying to tell you Scott. Nobody’s got my back. Nobody is controlling me. It’s me. I have changed.”
Scott laughed. Tears stung his eyes. Who could have blamed him? This was the craziest thing he had ever heard in all his time as a supernatural teenager. It was ridiculous just hearing it come out of Derek’s mouth.
“Derek,” said Scott, standing up and dusting himself off, “I’m sorry. But I really can’t humor you with your little imagination, anymore. If you don’t want anything to do with me, just say it and be done with it. I’m not that stupid, I can understand.. You can knock it off, now.”
It wasn’t Derek who replied.
The back door opened and Scott’s employer walked out. His carried with him long and thick, industrial looking chains.
“I’m sorry Scott, but none of what he just said, had anything to do with his imagination,” said Deaton, his eyes trained on Derek with a steady, calculative look. “This man is not a werewolf, anymore.”
He raised the chains he was holding and clinked them noisily. It made a chill of horror rise up Scott's spine.
“And he needs our help.”