Work Text:
“Look here, you annoying little shit,” the aggravated man seethed, shoving a finger in Stiles’ face. “You’re going to tell us where your pack of mutts are hiding, or we’re going to kill you. It’s really that simple.”
Stiles smirked, cocking his head to the side. “You know, I’ve been through this…” he counted off on his fingers mockingly, regardless of his bound wrists, “that doesn’t matter. What does matter is your terribly unoriginal threat and the laughable idea that you think I’m going to tell you anything that may hurt my pack,” Stiles finishes, expression serious.
“What? You think your pack is going to burst in here and save their precious, fragile human?” the man sneers. “Hate to burst your bubble, but that’s exactly what we’re hoping for.”
“They’re very protective of you,” a woman throws in from the corner of the room, sauntering towards the two men. “Must be because you’re so… delicate.” Her smile is anything but nice and Stiles just laughs at their show.
“Pro tip? When you’re kidnapping someone - especially from a werewolf pack - research is fundamental. Obviously your detective skills need some work,” Stiles informs sarcastically, watching rage flit across their faces. The man raises his gun towards Stiles and the boy barely refrains from rolling his eyes.
A howl rips through the air, making all the people in the room swivel around, trying to find the source. Stiles just lifts his hands towards his face, eyes beginning to glow very faintly. “That’s my cue,” he says happily.
The two hunters watch in bewilderment as Stiles eyes glow a bright white, followed by his hands. Next his hands are free and the hunters are both slammed against the walls with a bright explosion of light.
“Didn’t you learn to never fuck with a pack’s Emissary?” Stiles says, power lacing his voice. “I would die before I let you hurt them.” The boy’s hands began glowing again, anger coursing through him.
“Stiles!” a familiar voice called, but he couldn’t hear. His control was slipping. He had a hand raised towards the male hunter, about to vaporize him with just his will, when two strong arms circled around his chest. Someone buried their nose against his temple and was whispering in his ear. “Stiles, it’s okay. We’re okay. You have to calm down. Come back to me.”
Derek’s words finally broke through the haze of Stiles’ mind and his eyes slowly returned to their normal color. He sagged against the strong body behind him before letting out a long puff of air. The betas were finishing taking down all the other hunter lackeys in the room.
“Yo, took you guys long enough. I had to listen to these two yammer their evil plans for an hour,” the Emissary complains, tilting his face up to look at Derek’s wolf-like features. He got an eye roll in response.
“There’s the asshole we know and love. Nothing to worry about Scott,” Derek says, looking over to the Alpha who is currently helping restrain the hunters.
“But you do love me,” Stiles says, grinning wide. The other wolves in the room just groan in unison.
Derek smiles before leaning down to kiss Stiles quickly, his face back to normal. “Yeah, I do.”