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"You know, I think this was the plot of a Buffy episode."
Derek dragged Stiles into an alley, just before a trio of waist-high goblins skittered past on the sidewalk. They screeched and sprinted away, following some scent or sound only they could hear.
Those were someone's kids. Or had been, at the beginning of the night.
"Dude, you okay?" Stiles asked, concern creeping into his voice. "I make a Buffy reference and—"
Derek clapped his hand over Stiles's mouth. "I heard you. And it was. But unless you know where Ethan Rayne's opened a costume shop, our problem has a different source."
Stiles's eyes bugged out and he dragged Derek's hand off his mouth. "Oh my God, you know the episode."
Yeah, Derek should've known he was going to regret that. "Not important, and shut up. Most of these monsters have better hearing than me."
He'd been on the run since the first group of trick-or-treaters had come to his building and a group of miniature pirates crashed their way through the glass doors instead of opening them. After he'd escaped, Derek had found every trick-or-treater in town had changed into their costumes, including most of the people at the Halloween party where he'd finally found Stiles.
Which reminded him.
He eyed Stiles's Luke Skywalker costume. "How come you didn't change into your costume when Scott and Allison both changed into theirs?"
"Just lucky?" Stiles looked down at himself. "Or maybe the universe decided I didn't need a real lightsaber. Which is bullshit, if you ask me."
"You don't." Derek let go of him and stalked to the other end of the alley. "I've seen you with a lacrosse stick. You'd lose an arm with a lightsaber."
"First of all, rude, and second of all, a lightsaber might come in handy right now!"
Derek couldn't deny that, but he wouldn't say it out loud. "Seriously. Why them and not you?"
"If I knew, I would tell you," Stiles said testily. "I got my costume at the same place as Scott, so it's not that. Allison and I are both human, so it's not a supernatural versus human thing. I don't know why they changed and I didn't!"
Down the street, glass shattered and goblins cackled. Derek pulled back into the alley and tugged Stiles with him.
"Cannot believe the Big Bad Wolf is afraid of a bunch of little goblins," Stiles said. "They're like nine years old!"
"Exactly," Derek said. "They're kids. Most of them are kids."
"Oh." The teasing tone was gone from Stiles's voice. "Right."
Derek turned back to the main street. It sounded like the goblins were moving away. In a few minutes, they should be able to make a break for the loft. They were only a few blocks away now. They could regroup with the others there. Or at least, regroup with any of the others who were still normal.
Stiles grabbed his arm. "I've got it!"
"Got what?"
"I know what the link is! The weird punch at the Fall Festival last night! Kids were drinking it all night. Scott and Allison had some, too."
Derek turned back to Stiles, eyebrows raised. "Weird punch?"
"Yes! It was green and foamy and had weird bubbles, and the lady who brought it looked like Morticia Addams if she wore pink. You couldn't have paid me to try some, but Scott said he didn't want to be rude since she was standing right there." Stiles's eyes lit with the excitement. "That's got to be it."
Derek wasn't sure, but it was the first lead they'd had all night. "Any idea where we can find her?"
Stiles grinned. "As a matter of fact, I know exactly where she is."
***
Two hours and one very annoying showdown with a pissed-off witch later, Derek was hauling a bleeding Stiles into the loft with one hand and debriefing Scott on the phone with the other.
"I'm fine," Stiles said for the fifth time since they'd entered the building. "Tell Scott I'm fine."
"You are not fine," Derek snapped. "You're bleeding. I can smell it."
Stiles shrugged, like he was trying to shrug off Derek's concern. Given that he winced and grabbed at his side, it wasn't effective.
"Do I need to come take him to the hospital?" Scott's voice asked over the speakerphone.
"No!" Stiles shouted. "If I'm within thirty yards of the ER, Melissa will tell Dad. He doesn't need to worry about me because I'm fine."
"If he doesn't let me clean it up, I will personally make sure he gets to the ER," Derek said flatly, with a glare at Stiles.
Stiles returned the glare inch for inch, and then groaned. "Ugh, fine, you can clean it up."
He stalked to the couch and looked like he wanted to flop there, but sat down gingerly instead after a moment of consideration.
Derek took the phone off speaker to finish the conversation now that he wasn't holding Stiles up with one arm. "I'll take care of him, Scott. Don't worry about it."
"Thanks." Scott sounded relieved. "It's a mess out here, trying to help these kids get home. Call you later?"
"Yeah," Derek said, and hung up.
He went straight to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit and a couple of clean washcloths, and then returned to the main room to see how badly Stiles had gotten injured when he'd shoved Derek out of the way of one of the witch's attacks.
Stiles was paler than usual, his head tipped back on the couch and his pain a sour scent Derek could catch from across the room. He lifted his head as soon as Derek got close. "I can't believe you have a first aid kit," Stiles muttered. "You're a werewolf. You don't need a first aid kit. You have magical super healing."
Derek peeled away Stiles's bloodied shirt and started cleaning off his side as best as he could with a washcloth and rubbing alcohol. "Not everyone in a pack is a werewolf."
"You keep it around for us?"
At the surprise in Stiles's voice, Derek looked up into a pair of wide brown eyes, and immediately returned his focus to the claw marks scraped up his side. "I keep it around for human members of my pack."
"Which includes me, apparently," Stiles said. He sounded smug. He smelled smug, too, which added another interesting note over the pain and blood and alcohol.
Derek didn't respond to Stiles's comment, and instead finished cleaning off the wound. Now that he had a good look at it, it wasn't as bad as he'd feared when he'd seen the witch slam her clawed hand into Stiles's side. Some gauze and tape, and Stiles would probably be fine in a few days as long as he kept the scratches clean and took it easy. "You shouldn't have jumped in front of me."
"You were in the middle of dealing with one of her weird claymation things." Stiles waved one hand half-heartedly. "And I didn't jump in front of you. I pushed you out of the way. There's a difference. And I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you, Stiles, for helping me.'"
Derek glared at the lacerations he was currently bandaging. "I would've been fine if she'd hit me. It would've healed."
"You don't know that. She's a witch. Maybe her claws were like magic and you'd be stuck with these." Stiles pointed at the scratches on his side.
"Which would make them worse hitting you." Derek ripped off a length of medical tape and secured a piece of gauze to the largest cut. Really, Stiles was so smart most of the time. Why did he get like this around monsters?
"I don't like seeing you get hurt," Stiles mumbled, so quietly that Derek almost missed it.
He lost his grip on the tape and gauze. "You what?"
Stiles was turning a dull red, and he refused to meet Derek's eyes. "Nothing. I didn't say anything."
"Liar," Derek said. He didn't need to hear Stiles's heartbeat skip to know that.
Stiles turned redder. "Just hurry up and finish with this, will you? Or better yet, go do something else and I can finish it off. It's not like I lost my hands or anything."
Derek turned his full attention back to the injuries and bandaged them up. He wasn't used to anybody caring if something happened to him. He wasn't sure if anybody had since he'd lost his family.
Except, apparently, for Stiles.
He inspected his handiwork and then stood to put everything away. "You should be fine. Keep them clean and change the bandage if it gets dirty."
"Yeah, yeah." Stiles gingerly pulled his shirt back down. "Thanks for cleaning it off."
Derek picked up the first aid kit. "You know, I don't like seeing you get hurt, either."
Stiles froze and gaped. "You what?"
Derek smirked and walked back toward the bathroom. "Nothing. I didn't say anything."
He heard, rather than saw, Stiles's grin in his response.
"Liar."