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Derek Hale was on the verge.
They officially run out of places they could search for the parents taken by Darach. Jennifer had kidnapped them, hidden somewhere and disappeared into thin air. Scott, Lydia and Deaton were trying to figure out the place she kept them, while Allison and Isaac were driving around the town, looking for the smallest, the slightest tiny trace of any of the parents. And so were Derek and Stiles.
The problem was that not every one of them was reacting the same way. Derek sighed, thinking about how differently Scott, Allison and Stiles were behaving when trying to deal with the fact that their parents were missing. Not only missing, Derek corrected himself, but Sheriff Stilinski, Melissa McCall and Chris Argent were about to become sacrifices in a horrific, gruesome ritual. Even just thinking of it made Derek sick to the stomach. Not to mention that the person who was standing behind all of it was his kind-of-sort-of girlfriend, who seduced him and tricked into thinking she was as innocent as a newborn lamb, while in reality she was a psychotic serial killer. Clearly his taste in women was something he really needed to work on.
Just like Stiles needed to work on suppressing his panic attacks.
And so in the face of losing his mom, Scott was quiet and contemplative, completely shut himself down, in order to stay focused on the task. Allison was strong and determined to find her father, keeping it calm and ice-cold, just like she had been taught and trained. But Stiles – who was always focused and thinking a few steps ahead – this time was panicking, unable to get a grip and at least try to be the one that always comes up with a solution. Derek could feel the anger boiling under his skin, the air was thick with stress Stiles was feeling and Derek could have sworn he saw him rubbing his eyes in order to stop the tears.
Stiles was breathing heavily and Derek knew it was only a matter of time until the kid would have a complete meltdown. He had to help him. Stiles needed Derek to help him.
Derek slammed on the brakes and Stiles’ car immediately stopped, surrounded by dead silence of the night. He knew the perfect way of helping Stiles to get his feelings under control.
Stiles looked at him, seriously wondering if Derek has lost his sanity. His girlfriend was a psycho, so maybe it’s something contagious.
“What the hell, man?” Stiles almost yelled, feeling the panic arising. “Why would you stop the car when we have no time to lose? My dad could be getting murdered right now!”
But Derek was already outside the car. “Get out now.”
“Huh?” Derek’s lost it, he thought. It’s fucking official. “What th-“
“Get out of the car, Stiles. Now.”
Derek usually was not the one who would listen to any objections or any reasonable arguments – at least that’s what Stiles used to think – so Stiles clambered out of the car and joined him standing in the middle of the forest, illuminated by car’s headlights.
“What?” Stiles hoped Derek is not going to kill and dismember him, then eat his heart and his liver and hide the rest of his skinny, lifeless body somewhere in the woods. It was unlikely, but still. However, Stiles was also trying to deal with the possibility of becoming an orphan, so he might have not been thinking very rationally at the moment.
But… he’s Derek. He may be dark and mysterious and have a weird thing for super hot killer girls, but he trusted him. For the very first time in his life, Stiles trusted Derek and believed he knows what he’s doing. He’s the protector everyone believes Scott to become.
“Hit me.”
So maybe he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, after all.
“Huh? Are you okay, Der-“
“Hit me.”
Is this some kind of a joke? They are supposed to search for his dad, not do… whatever it is that Derek is planning.
“What?”
“Are you deaf? Hit me.”
“What the hell, Derek? Is this some kind of a kinky foreplay, cause I did not sign up for-“
“Just. Hit. Me.” Derek sighed and took a few steps forward, reaching his hand towards Stiles, but hesitated. Apparently he thought touching him was a bad idea, so he backed down and just stood there, looking into Stiles’ eyes. “You are clearly losing it and we can’t save your father with you being on the edge of exploding. We need you calm and focused. We need you, because you’re the smart one. You’re the one that always figures it out.” Derek’s gaze was so intense that Stiles couldn’t make himself turn his eyes away from him. “Get a grip. Fight the pain. Hit me.”
“But it’s still-“
“I’m a werewolf, in case you forgot. I’ll heal.” Derek took a one more step towards Stiles and grabbed his hand, forming it into a closed fist. “I need you to think of Jennifer and all the bad things she had done. Think of your dad, of Scott’s and Allison’s parents. Of all the innocent people Jennifer murdered. Think about all of it. Use your anger. Release it.”
Stiles blinked and understood what Derek wanted him to do. Use the anger as an anchor. Just like Derek always does. He looked him in the eyes and saw a softer side to it, an almost fatherly glow.
He was a true protector.
Stiles raised his arm and took a deep breath. His mind focused on the only thing he could feel at the moment. Overwhelming, intense anger that couldn’t be tamed. Stiles felt like he was about to explode.
He punched Derek’s arm and heard him let out a small sigh. Stiles glanced at him, but didn’t see any sign of pain. Instead, Derek stayed strong, motionless and focused.
Stiles thought that he in fact has no idea if werewolves feel pain less intense that normal people or if there’s no difference between them, besides the ability to heal. But the rage inside of him wouldn’t let him wonder about it at the moment.
It was only releasing the anger that counted.
He punched him again. And then again. And again, kept punching the very same arm over and over. Before he could even realize it, he found himself punching Derek’s arms, chest, shoulders and abdomen; anywhere he could reach. He was oblivious to everything else, he shut himself out to the whole world. The anger, the fury was the only thing that was on his mind, deafening and blinding and completely taking control over him. He heard Derek’s voice repeating “It’s okay, it’s okay” over and over again, but Stiles had no idea if it was real or maybe it was just the product of his vivid imagination.
He didn’t stop until he was out of breath and started panting heavily. He looked at his trembling hands and saw blood all over his fists. Stiles took a quick glance at Derek and saw him standing right in front of him with his eyes closed, breathing deeply. There was blood all over his face and neck and he got so many bruises all over his arms and probably also chest that his skin color was almost exclusively purple. His hands started to shake uncontrollably when he saw what he’d done to Derek, how badly he’d beaten him up.
“Oh God, Derek… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” He could see that Derek was healing already, all the wounds started to close up and bruises began to disappear, but it didn’t make him feel any less sorry for what he’d done. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” He mumbled quietly. “I’m so sorry.”
Derek opened his eyes and looked at Stiles, raising his eyebrows in a silent question. How are you feeling now? Stiles let out a deep breath and nodded.
His hands were still shaking, so he pulled them to his chest, keeping them stable and secure. He could feel tears coming to his eyes again, this time as a sign of the pain finally going away. Stiles felt the anger was gone. His mind was calm and peaceful and it’s been a while since he felt this relieved. It was all good now. He was good. Stiles heard a few steps being taken towards him and a moment later he felt Derek closing him in a tight, comforting embrace, letting Stiles release all the stress that was inside of him and relax for a bit. It helped even more than the angry way of releasing the rage. Because apparently sometimes human contact can help even more that the most effective medicine.