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When Stiles finally found Derek in the old Hale house, sitting next to a huge hole in the ground, he was very done with this night.
“Hey, dude,” he called out and stomped up to him. “Where were you? You’re Scott’s alpha now and he needs you,” he said and frowned when Derek didn’t even move.
He stepped closer, peering into the hole and reeled back when he saw Peter’s body there.
“Holy shit,” Stiles whispered and took another step back, just for good measure. “How long have you been here?” he asked Derek who still hadn’t moved or given any indication that he had heard Stiles.
“Derek?” he asked and came up behind him, staying as far away from the hole as he could but he tentatively reached out for Derek’s shoulder.
Derek moved away from him before he could make contact.
“Leave,” he whispered, not tearing his eyes away from the body in the ground.
“Dude, it can’t be good for you to be here,” Stiles started. “I get that he was your family but he was insane.”
“You don’t get anything,” Derek hissed and finally stood up.
When he turned towards Stiles his eyes were glowing red.
“You don’t get to be here,” Derek growled and pushed Stiles away from the hole. “Leave!”
“Look, I know that this must be difficult, but you had to kill him, he was…”
Stiles didn’t finish that sentence, mostly because he wasn’t sure Derek would even hear him over his growling.
“Derek,” he started but suddenly Derek was right in his face.
“If you say another word, you’ll find out just how painful dying is,” he threatened and Stiles raised his hands in a placating manner.
“No need to threaten the innocent bystander here,” he mumbled.
“Innocent bystander?” Derek asked incredulously. “He’s dead because of you!” he suddenly yelled and crumbled next to the hole.
“He’s not… I didn’t kill him!” Stiles protested but Derek only shook his head.
“You came with molotov cocktails, you burned him again, what did you think would happen?” Derek asked him and he sounded broken. Stiles could see the shivers that wrecked his bodies even from a few feet away.
“You burned the burn victim. I had to kill him,” Derek whispered, more to himself than to Stiles, as if he was trying to justify what he did, staring back into the hole.
“I know he was your uncle but,” Stiles started but he was yet again interrupted.
“You know nothing,” Derek said and looked up at him and Stiles startled when he saw the tears running down Derek’s face.
“He wasn’t just my uncle. He was my, my friend, my confident, my anchor, my everything,” he desperately said and Stiles’ heart clenched when he suddenly understood.
“Mate,” Stiles whispered, because of course he had come across that concept during his research and Derek flinched like Stiles had hit him.
“You took everything from me,” Derek muttered and when he looked at Stiles his eyes were red again.
Stiles scrambled back, because a werewolf without an anchor was bad, but an alpha was even worse, and he didn’t want to be bitten or worse.
“There was no other choice,” he tried to reason. “He would have killed Allison and Chris, too.”
“And good fucking riddance,” Derek hissed and prowled towards Stiles who kept stumbling back.
“Come on, you don’t mean that,” Stiles rushed out but Derek didn’t stop.
He kept walking up to Stiles until he almost fell down the stairs at the front door.
“Leave!” he shouted and Stiles ran as soon as he was stable on his feet again, leaving Derek to mourn his dead mate in peace.