Chapter Text
Prologue
Derek was reading a book on the porch, the air was still warm from the afternoon sun. It was quiet, only a few night birds singing and the sound of nocturnal insects. There was no wind and the only light came from the moon.
His head snapped up when he heard the noise. A short but loud and scared cry. It came from the forest maybe a mile away, not more. He focused his attention on the direction it came from, closing his eyes and putting his book down next to him.
He couldn't hear anything and he let himself wonder if he had not imagined the screaming. His instincts had kicked in, though. He knew he had to go and find out what, or rather who, was out there. He stood up, sniffed the air. Still nothing unusual. He hesitated for a second but a second cry echoed. It was as loud as the first one but longer this time and painful to his ears. He ran.
The first scent he recognized was Peter's and that confused him. Then he stopped abruptly. Stiles. He listened, completely still. Short and fast breaths occasionally interrupted by tiny whines of pain. He started to run again to find Stiles laying on the ground, covered in blood. It took Derek a couple of seconds to react, to do something. He knelt near the boy and called out his name. Stiles seemed completely gone, obviously trying to fight the pain. And probably the fear. Peter's scent was all over him and Derek didn't need a drawing to understand he was responsible for the state the human in front of him was in.
Derek tried to think fast. He didn't have his phone to call for an ambulance and it was quite obvious that taking the pain away from Stiles wouldn't help much.
“So now,” came a familiar voice behind him. He didn't turn around as he heard Peter walking towards him. He stood on the other side of Stiles body with a predatory look. “You're not known for making the best decisions of all times but your choices don't extend much right now. Either you bite him, or he dies right here.”
Derek gently put his left arm under Stiles neck, the right under his knees and stood with Stiles' now unconscious body cradled against his chest. He turned away from his uncle and walked as fast as possible towards his house. He didn't dare to run, afraid being too shaken up could worsen Stiles' state.
A couple of weeks earlier Derek had learned that Peter had wanted Stiles to get the bite when he was still an alpha. It didn't take him long to understand that his psychopath of an uncle had planed this. Peter knew that Derek would rather bite Stiles than watch him die. Peter probably knew about that unexplainable thing that drew Derek to the teen. That thing Derek himself didn't quit understand.
When he arrived at the house he climbed the stairs and went in his old room by instinct. If he had to inflict that on Stiles he wouldn’t do it in the middle of the forest. Stiles deserved more than that. Way more than that.