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Once upon a time, there lived a family of werewolves called the Hales, led by their alpha, Talia. There was the alpha’s mate and children along with plenty of aunts, uncles, and cousins. And all of them lived in a mansion hidden deep in a forest.
The humans in the world knew about werewolves, and most of them were not afraid. However, there was one group of humans who called themselves hunters. They had vowed to kill every werewolf, thinking them monsters, even the ones like the Hales who never hurt a soul. So the Hales kept themselves hidden away so hunters could never hurt them.
The Hales were mostly self-sufficient. Several acres of the forest behind their mansion had been cleared to grow crops the family needed, and they hunted for meat monthly so as to not clear the forest of wildlife. Despite this, they did need to go into the small town outside the forest for medicine, clothing, extra food, and other things they needed that they couldn’t grow or hunt themselves. When they had to go to town, they always traveled by night and kept to the shadows in case someone unfriendly came upon them.
Thankfully, there were some people in the town who considered the Hales friends and would always help them when they would come for something. One was the town veterinarian, Alan Deaton, who often picked up food and supplies for them. He was also a druid who could provide medical care for the supernatural when needed. There was also a woman named Claudia and her young son who called himself Stiles, both of whom had pale skin dotted with brown moles and wore red jackets for easy recognition. Claudia was one of the people who led the Hales safely around the village so they wouldn‘t run into anybody, while Stiles played with the younger wolves while they waited just outside the forest for the adults to return.
The children of the family loved having somebody different to play with, but none more than Derek, who was Talia’s middle child. The two of them seemed to have a special bond, spending as much time together as they could and sharing private looks between the two of them. Stiles liked to seek Derek out even when his mother wasn’t the one leading the Hales around town. They even gave each other nicknames. Stiles dubbed Derek “Little Black Sour Wolf” because he always looked so grumpy as a even fully shifted fluffy black wolf, and Derek called Stiles “Little Red Riding Hoodie” because of the red hooded jacket he wore.
Things went on like this for years. But Claudia became ill for months and eventually passed away. Her son took her place leading the adult Hales through town, and he didn‘t have as many opportunities to play with Derek and the other children anymore. In time, the playing just ended altogether and the children slowly became adults themselves.
Years passed again until one night, almost of the Hale family members fell deathly ill, turning pale and weak. Nobody had any idea what was causing it. The only one who wasn‘t sick was Derek.
“Go… and see Deaton,” his mother told him between gasps for breath. “He will… know what to do.”
Derek nodded and kissed his mother on the forehead. It was hot and sweaty and he was terrified. But he pushed down the fear and prepared for the journey to town.
Nighttime was nearly over and time was of the essence, so Derek didn‘t have a lot of time to spare. To get to the town the fastest, he had to go in wolf form. He quickly wrote a note to Deaton explaining what was going on with his family. Then he slipped out of his clothes and transformed into the wolf. He picked up the note carefully in his mouth, and ran towards the town.
It didn’t take more than an hour before he exited the forest and looked over at the town. The windows in the houses were still dark, but the sky was just starting to lighten at the horizon. Dawn was approaching.
Before Derek could take a single step towards the town, a tall figure stepped out into the path, causing the wolf to tense.
“Little Black Sour Wolf, is that really you?” the figure whispered in awe, a fond smile on his face. “I haven’t seen you in so long. I missed you, buddy!” He walked forward with his arms held wide open.
The voice had deepened over the years, but Derek recognized the red hoodie and the pale skin covered in moles. It was Stiles. He had grown so tall since the last time Derek had seen him, and he was nearly a man himself. But his big smile hadn’t changed one bit.
The wolf whined anxiously. He wanted to stay with Stiles and spend time with the boy he had once been so close to, but he didn’t have the time right now. He needed to get help for his family.
“Shh,” Stiles whispered, holding out his arms in a placating manner. “You don’t want the hunters to know you’re here. They’ve been lurking around a lot lately, and they’ll kill you if they find you. Now let’s be quick. Where are we off to?”
Derek nodded his head towards where he knew Deaton’s house was.
“Deaton’s? Yeah, I can get you there,” Stiles nodded. “Come on, Little Black Sour Wolf.” He ruffled the fur on Derek’s head and walked on ahead.
The two walked in the shadows between the houses until they came to a building with a large sign saying “Veterinarian” out front. Stiles rapped on the door.
A few moments later, a light shone through one of the windows in the building. Then the front door opened, revealing a somewhat sleepy Deaton. “Derek,” he greeted. “Is something wrong? I just sent food and supplies for all of you just two days ago.”
Derek responded by spitting out the somewhat wet paper from his mouth.
Ignoring Stiles’ sounds of disgust, Deaton picked up the paper and read it. “Hmmm,” he mused as he folded up the note when he was finished. “It sounds to me like everyone got poisoned. Their symptoms seem very severe , so you’re going to have to get this medicine back to them immediately. Have everyone take a spoonful each, and I‘ll come by the house in a few hours to check on everyone to make sure they‘re recovering properly.”
The wolf whimpered. He didn’t want anyone of his family to die. He paced back and forth impatiently while he waited for Deaton to bottle up the antidote. At least the druid had some of the medicine already made and Derek didn’t have to wait for a new batch to be distilled.
Deaton started to hand the large corked bottle to Derek, then he stopped. “You’ll have to transform back to human to get this bottle to your family,” he said. “You can’t carry this as a wolf.”
“No,” Stiles said, causing Derek to jump. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten the boy was there. “He can carry the bottle in this.” He slipped his red hoodie off.
Derek immediately sat down on his haunches while Stiles gently lifted a front paw and slipped it into one sleeve of the hoodie. He did the same with Derek’s other front paw, then adjusted the hoodie until it sat comfortably on the wolf’s body. Then Deaton slipped the bottle into one of the pockets, zipping it up to make sure that it was secure.
Derek took a whiff of the hoodie. The scent of Stiles filled his nostrils and his tail started wagging subconsciously.
“You silly wolf. You like my scent,” Stiles beamed. “Come on, let me get you back to the forest. You‘ve got to go quickly!”
As the pair stepped outside, the sun had already started to rise over the horizon. Derek looked alarmed and whined his concern. Stiles raised a finger to his lips and shook his head, then began to lead the wolf carefully through the village, avoiding the few people who were already starting to work at this early hour.
Soon enough, they made it to the outskirts of town. Stiles knelt down in front of the wolf. “You be careful now, alright, Little Black Sour Wolf?” He stroked the dark head of the wolf. “I want to see you again.”
Derek was feeling a bit reckless with Stiles’ scent all around him and licked at the boy’s hand, then darted off into the forest, ignoring the cries of “Wait!” from the boy.
Running through the forest this time took a little while longer because he didn’t want the bottle inside the hoodie pocket to break. He cautiously wound his way around and through the trees, careful not to run into any of them or slip on the roots protruding from the ground.
Eventually, he made it back to the mansion. He shifted back to a human, gripping on to the bottle the moment he had human-like fingers again. He didn’t want to take Stiles’ hoodie off, but he slipped into the pants he was wearing before his family got sick. He ran to his parents’ bedroom first.
There was only one partially shifted wolf in the bed, which worried Derek. “Mom? Dad? How is everyone? I have the antidote here. I’m not too late, am I?”
“No,” came a raspy, feminine voice, implying that it was his mother in the bed. But Talia’s voice never sounded like that.
“Mom?” Derek asked worriedly. “Your voice doesn’t sound like you.”
“The better to speak to you, my dear,” the voice said, then coughed pathetically.
That was an odd answer. Derek‘s worry grew. “Why are you shifted, Mom?”
“The better to sense everything, my dear,” came the response.
Derek raised an eyebrow. Maybe the poison was causing her to give such odd answers. “Look,” he said, pulling out the bottle. “I have the antidote here, Mom.”
A clawed hand came from the blankets and grabbed at the bottle. But the hand was far from steady, and as it ripped the bottle from Derek’s hand, it crashed to the floor, the contents running all over the floor.
Derek was horrified. He breathed heavily as he fell to the floor, trying to scoop up some of the potion with the broken bottom of the bottle. “You can’t die! I have to go back to Deaton‘s!” he cried out frantically, trying not to panic. He began picturing images of his family dead, and he shook his head wildly to make them go away.
“Don’t worry about that now.” The voice he had been speaking to changed. It was sweeter and more high pitched, with an undercurrent of malice.
Derek whipped his head up in shock. A blonde woman was sitting up now in the bed. She was pulling off the partially shifted female werewolf head, just a fake replica. Her hands were covered in elbow-length gloves made to look like a shifted wolf’s hand. A cruel smile sat on his face as she stared at him.
She rose from the bed while Derek still hadn’t moved from shock. She dropped the head replica on the bed, followed by the gloves, then lifted a rifle from the bed beside her into her arms.
“You’re a hunter,” Derek‘s eyes narrowed in recognition. “Where’s my family?” he demanded.
The blonde laughed. “Oh, they’ve been dragged down to the basement. They’ll be dead within an hour or so. And if they’re not, well, they’ll certainly be dead when we light this house on fire!”
“No!” In an instant, Derek was up and had the woman pinned to the wall, his claws out and digging into the skin on her arms.
Derek heard a loud noise, then felt searing pain in his abdomen. He let go of the blonde woman with one hand and slowly touched the place where the pain radiated from. Wincing, he lifted his hand up and saw blood. He felt himself weakening, and he fell back down to the floor. As he looked up at the woman, he noticed that her firearm was smoking, and she was grinning down at him.
“I had wolfsbane put in these bullets,” she said casually, strolling over to where Derek lay on the floor. “I wonder if you’ll die before the fire, or after,” she mused, bending over to look coldly into his eyes. “Should an abomination like you have a quick death, or should you suffer knowing that you and your family are burning?”
Derek growled at her, but it only came out very weak.
“Aw, I think the widdle puppy has lost his claws,” the woman sneered in a mockery of baby talk. “You poor thing.”
“You know, it was so easy to get you all,” she said thoughtfully. “I waited for you monsters to come to town and get food. While you all thought you were being so smart sneaking around town, I hid behind some boxes in an alley you went through and dropped poison on some of the food. It’s a shame that you were the only one who didn’t get poisoned.” She narrowed her eyes at him, then her face shifted back to her fake smile. “But it’s okay because I. Still. Got. You.” She punctuated the last words by poking him in the stomach near his injury with each word, causing Derek to cry out in pain.
Before the hunter could do anything else, the door slammed open with a burst of sound. Derek turned to see Stiles stepping through the doorway, casually tossing a fat metal baseball bat from hand to hand. It seemed ordinary except for an odd protrusion on the underside near the base of the bat. “Derek, are you okay?” he asked, worry in his voice.
“Stiles,” Derek whispered weakly, trying to reach for him.
“It’ll be okay, my Little Black Sour Wolf,” Stiles said softly to him, then he turned to the blonde with a hard look in his eyes. “You’re not going to hurt him anymore. Or any of them.”
“They’re monsters, and they don’t deserve to live,” the woman spat venomously. “And even if you somehow got rid of me, there are still half a dozen more hunters down in the basement with the rest of the pathetic werewolves, waiting for my signal to burn this place up.”
“Which you won’t be giving,” Stiles pointed out, then pressed something above the protrusion below his metallic bat.
The bat split open lengthwise into four pieces that extended outward revealing the space inside. Derek could make out the barrel of a gun inside. Stiles lifted the bat-gun to shoulder height and aimed it directly at the blonde woman. “I suggest you drop your gun and put your hands up.”
“Think you’re faster than a hunter, boy?” the blonde taunted confidently, with her own gun still pointing at Derek.
“Yup,” Stiles said matter-of-factly. There was no cockiness in his voice, only self-assurance. His hands remained steady as they gripped his bat-gun. “I do.”
A murderous look crossed the blonde’s face as her finger moved on the trigger. Then a gunshot rang out, and it was the blonde herself who was grimacing in pain as she dropped the rifle she’d been holding. She was gripping the hand that had been on the trigger and gritting her teeth.
The gun inside Stiles’ bat was smoking faintly as he continued to aim it at the blonde. “I told you I was faster,” he pointed out, then quickly glanced at Derek. “Hey, buddy, you think you can manage to kick that gun away from her?”
Derek was stunned at how strong and amazing Stiles had grown over the years. He wasn‘t just taller and leaner. He had grown leaps and bounds in confidence. He found that his heart was pounding in a very good way when he was around Stiles.
He found that he wasn’t in too much pain if he moved slowly. He nodded in response to Stiles, then shifted carefully towards the woman’s gun and bumped it with his foot out of her reach.
Suddenly, the sound of more gunshots being fired came from below. “Looks like my father’s shown up,” Stiles commented over the gunfire. “He’s the sheriff, you know. He and his men’ll arrest all you hunters.” He spat out the last word with disgust. “And you’ll rot in jail for the rest of your lives.”
The blonde woman glared at him. She was still clutching her injured hand and had wrapped it in one of the fake gloves she had worn.
“And we’ll get you and your family help, Derek,” Stiles said, smiling that special smile that was just for him. “Where’s that antidote you got from Deaton?”
Derek’s shoulders slumped. “Gone…” he said morosely. “She dropped it. It‘s all gone.”
Stiles shook his head and smiled earnestly. “It’s okay, Derek,” he said kindly. “I brought more. I told you earlier there were hunters around town more than usual the past week or so, so I had a feeling something might go wrong.” He pulled another bottle of the antidote out of his pants pocket.
Derek sighed in relief. Maybe he and his family would be okay after all this.
But then he found the barrel of a rifle in his stomach again. The woman had taken advantage of Stiles being distracted by Derek and gotten to her gun again. She held it in her uninjured hand in a moment again with an unhinged grin on her face. “They’re all going to die if it kills me!” she screamed as the gun wobbled unsteadily in her hand.
The Sheriff and two of his deputies rushed through the open door just as Stiles fired at the hunter, a bullet going right between her eyes. Everyone froze in shock as she fell backwards, a surprised look on her face.
Stiles noticed the other people in the room and ran over to the Sheriff. His father, Derek remembered. “Dad!” he cried out frantically, hugging his father. “She was gonna shoot Derek again! See, look, he’s hurt with wolfsbane! She wanted to burn this house down and kill everyone! And she poisoned everyone, except Derek somehow!”
The Sheriff wrapped his arms around Stiles. “It’s okay, son. You did what you had to do to protect them. You did good, kid.”
The two separated from each other and the Sheriff turned to the female hunter. “That woman there is Kate Argent,” he said. “A known werewolf hater. She and her group have killed many other werewolves in the country, but no one has been able to catch them.”
Stiles and Derek both glared at her body. Derek was thankful that she would never be able to hurt anyone, werewolf or otherwise, ever again.
Deaton knocked on the open bedroom door not long after that, entering with a bag of supplies. “Ah, Derek, what have you gotten into?” he asked the werewolf, inspecting his wound.
“Hunter,” Derek answered. “She said it was wolfsbane.”
“This cure will hurt a lot, but you will feel much better afterwards,” Deaton said. “Stiles, can you hand me a bullet from the hunter’s gun?”
**********
A half an hour later, Derek was sitting on his own bed, slowly recovering from the bullet wound. Deaton managed to create the antidote from the contents of the bullet, and while administering it was painful and both Stiles and the Sheriff had to hold him down, he was now healing and feeling a whole lot better.
It turned out that four of the six hunters in the basement had been killed along with Kate. The last two had surrendered and were on their way to jail, most likely for the rest of their lives.
Stiles hadn’t wanted to leave Derek’s side, but Deaton had said he needed the boy’s help. Together, they had administered the poison antidote to the entire Hale family, then helped them all to their bed to recover. No one had any lasting damage, for which Derek was extremely grateful.
Stiles came to sit next to him on his bed. “How are you feeling now, buddy?” he asked with concern.
“I’m okay,” he told Stiles weakly, giving him a small smile.
Stiles’ face sagged in relief. “I’m glad,” he said honestly. “I was so worried once you’d left. I had to get to your house as quickly as possible. I just had a really bad feeling. I‘m glad I came.”
Derek flushed, enjoying the warmth of Stiles’ hand in his along with his scent which was stronger now with Stiles beside him. “I’m glad you came, too,” he said quietly. “You were amazing, you know.”
Stiles’ own cheeks reddened. “I had to protect you. I couldn‘t let her hurt you,” he said earnestly.
They sat quietly for a few minutes hand in hand. Then Stiles said quietly, “I really do want to see you again, Derek. Besides when I help your family when they‘re in town. Do you think, maybe, we could go on a date?”
He looked so shy at that question, so different from the self-assured young man who saved them all. Derek had the feeling that he would like every side of the boy that he possessed. Would he love to spend more time with him? Absolutely.
“Yes,” he blurted out.
Stiles beamed at him. “My Little Black Sour Wolf,” he murmured softly, gently stroking his other hand on the side of Derek’s face.
“Little Red Riding Hoodie,” Derek murmured back.
“Can I kiss you now?” Stiles whispered.
Derek nodded.
That first kiss was gentle and sweet, chaste. The warmth Derek felt from Stiles’ hand paled in comparison to the warmth he felt from those two soft lips touching his. He felt like he was floating on air. When the two separated, they both had the biggest grins on their faces.
**********
A few years later, the two married in the town where the werewolves were finally welcomed with open arms. Little Black Sour Wolf and Little Red Riding Hoodie spent the rest of their lives learning and relearning everything there was to know about each other, always very much in love. And they lived happily ever after.