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Derek gasps for breath, blood gurgling in his throat as it bubbles up, trickling from his mouth. The silver burns in his bloodstream, crippling, coursing through his body like acid.
The hunter working him tuts when Derek finally sags against the restraints, the spikes digging back into his throat and chest, piercing the skin.
‘’Getting rather weak there, hm? Not so big and powerful now, are you?’’ The hunter taunts, leery and thirsting for violence.
Derek clamps his mouth shut from a snarky retort. The hunters would never understand his viewpoint anyway. Being a werewolf wasn’t about power . It was about family, kinship. Protection. Love.
The same couldn’t be said for the hunter community. Theirs were the ugly need to raise in position, in dominance. Theirs were the blood hungry gazes as they struck down the weak and defenseless. Theirs were men and women wanting to destroy and break, slaughter and torture, hatred and disgust motivating every blow.
It wasn’t a wolf trait. It was purely human.
He sees the fist before it collides with his cheek, but unable to stop it from hitting the target. The blow packs a punch, cracking the bones on his face, tearing the muscle at his jaw as his head jerks to the side. More blood gathers into his mouth and he gags, exhausted tears slipping down his bruised face as he hacks and coughs for air.
A door opens with a woman slowly sauntering inside, a huge grin lighting up her face when he sees the state Derek’s in.
‘’Wow. You sure did a number on it,’’ she remarks, settling down a laptop on a nearby table. ‘’Make sure you don’t kill it just yet though, sweetheart. We need the money sent us first, and for that, we actually do need it alive.’’
The male hunter spits on Derek, sneering, before he turns to the woman. ‘’Don’t worry, Becks. They’re tougher than they look. I’ve only done some preliminary work here, it’ll take a lot more than this for it to die.’’
The woman shrugs, unconcerned. ‘’As long as I get paid, I could care less what you do to any of them.’’ She flips the laptop open, dropping onto the chair next to the table and sighs. ‘’Just a fair warning though, I’m pretty sure Stacey wants to kill the animal herself. Seeing as she’s the one orchestrating this all.’’
The man grunts, settling down next to Becks. ‘’Well,’’ he concedes, with a jerk to Derek’s direction, ‘’it’s his fault that Kate died the way she did. Stacey wants revenge as much as she wants money, and knowing the Hales were loaded, she’s determined to have both.’’
The woman snorts. ‘’True.’’
Derek closes his eyes tiredly. He’s been hanging in his shackles for a long time. He doesn’t have the means to tell the passage of time, but he knows he’s been in the compound more than two days. At least, that’s what his bladder told him after he had no choice but to empty it where he stood, when the humans wouldn’t let him use the bathroom.
He can smell the urine on himself, the stench strong against his bare thighs where one of the other humans stripped him off his clothes when he first got here. He’s not embarrassed by the nudity, but it adds a layer of vulnerability he really can’t afford to feel right now.
He aches everywhere. His hands have been bound together, the wolfsbane covered shackles attached to a hook that wavers on the low ceiling. It forces his muscles to stretch painfully, shoulders stiff where he can’t move them, can’t rub away the soreness. He hasn’t been dangling there that long, only dragged in the center when the hunter who snagged him up had beaten the information she needed out of him. This hunter, lazily chatting with Becks, has been fooling around for maybe two-three hours after, who Derek assumes to be Stacey, was done with him.
There are long, rigged wounds across his naked torso. They’re weeping black goo, dark veins surrounding them, his system desperately trying to fight the poisoning.
‘’Oh hey,’’ Becks says, clicking the computer. ‘’Stacey says she’s coming down. Apparently she’s gotten in contact with the Hale pack. We’re gonna have to set up a skype call.’’
‘’Huh,’’ the male hunter says. ‘’That’s rather swift for Stacey. I’d thought for sure she was going to prolong this by weeks, if not months even.’’
Becks ponders this for a minute. ‘’Complications?’’
The man grimaces. ‘’Hope not,’’ he mutters. ‘’She’s vicious enough without everything going south.’’
Becks hums in agreement. The hunters settle for silence. Derek would grin with relief if his bruised mouth would allow it. Stiles is coming.
They had a fight. Before Derek was abducted. It had been over a petty, small thing, some everyday nonsense that would’ve, had either of them been a lot calmer, been resolved in a matter of minutes. Instead, Stiles had taken off, fuming in what he thought was righteous anger, declaring that he didn’t want to hear a peep of Derek in the next two days while he stayed with his father. Derek had allowed this, familiar with how Stiles needs space to rearrange his thoughts after an emotional roller coaster. So it had taken the pack at least six hours to know Derek had disappeared.
And in those precious hours the hunters had made a great headway with Derek’s unconscious self.
The door is slammed open and Stacey strolls inside with her blond locks swaying, flanked by three big and burly men. There’s too much makeup on her face, Derek decides, lips curling automatically when her strong perfume hits his nose.
‘’Aww. Is the poor little dog feeling a little under weather?’’ She coos. ‘’Don’t worry puppy. I won’t let you suffer longer than, hm. Let’s say a couple years? I like to make sure the objects of my revenges are properly educated as to why I’m doing this to them before I kill them. So we’re out for a long time of fun together! Isn’t that amazing?’’
She snaps her fingers. ‘’Todd, Kyle and Preston. How about you make him bleed a little more while I set up our meeting?’’ The three men nod, stepping forward to Derek.
‘’Becky and Chad, if you could, go pack all of our stuff. This negotiation is going to be pretty long, I think. The Hale pack’s left hand found us pretty quickly so we need to be out of here the second this meeting ends.’’ Both hunters nod and retreat up the stairs that Derek sees lead away from the door.
The first hit with the ragged metal pipe makes Derek grit his teeth as the hurt blooms against his side. He’s desperate to cover himself, to block at least one or two of the punches but he can’t. They keep kicking his legs to overbalance him, making him lose his footing so he can’t retaliate.
The attack doesn’t take long, but at the end of it, Derek is barely able to breathe, his ribs broken in multiple places, his lungs trapped with no space to properly inhale or exhale.
‘’Enough. You don’t get to kill him,’’ Stacey says from somewhere, her voice seeming muffled and far away. There’s a pling and the familiar sound of a skype call ready to connect, and Derek could almost weep. Stacey accepts the call and Derek immediately tries to see the screen, see the reassuring face of his mate. But the laptop is angled away from him and he can barely see from the swelling on his temples and cheeks, and helplessness fills his chest.
‘’Hello, Mr. Stilinski,’’ Stacey greets, her voice pitched to something overly bubbly and innocent. She looks the part too. But then again, Kate had appeared fair and good too. It’s all a fraud.
‘’Hello, Stacey Spencer,’’ Stiles’ tinny voice greets over the sounds of the computer’s processors. ‘’And before you continue, it’s actually Stilinski- Hale . Do your homework.’’
‘’Yes,’’ Stacey grins brightly, ‘’I heard all about your… Mating. It was all the hunter community would buzz about when it happened. A lot of people were actually speculating whether or not someone as powerful as you had just forced Hale into bonding with you, giving you your very own werewolf on a leash.’’ She studies Stiles’ face for a second. She lowers her voice, giving it a sultry feel and says, ‘’After all, the beasts do fuck like machines.’’
Stiles apparently doesn’t deem that worth responding to, and says instead, ‘’Return Derek to me.’’
She laughs. ‘’Oh, absolutely. Just after I receive my money.’’
There’s a rustling sound, and then Stiles says, ‘’Here. Two million dollars, all in cash. No ink bomb, no trap. Just a swift exchange. You get your case of money and I get my wolf back.’’
Stacey's eyes glint with glee. ‘’Just so you know, I have dozen of hunters with me so if any of yours move even the tiniest amount wrong, I’ll have your precious mate beaten to a pulp.’’
Anger simmering in Stiles’ voice, he responds, ‘’How about you show him to me right now, to make sure he’s alright and alive.’’
‘’Sure!’’ She says, peppy, and turns the computer screen to face Derek and the three hunters somewhere on his close proximity. ‘’Say hi to your keeper, Derek!’’
And there it is. Stiles’ beautiful face, eyes flaming with worry and fury, so vibrant even through a computer screen. Derek almost chokes on the sobs that want to claw their way out of his chest, but he bites the sounds back. There’s something absolute, something hard and dangerous in Stiles’ tone when he says quietly, ‘’Oh, I wish you hadn’t laid your hands on him.’’
Stacey comes to Derek, fingertips trailing along his abused flesh. ‘’Hm? Isn’t he so pretty like this? Put in his place.’’
Derek keeps his eyes locked on Stiles’ face as she touches him, revolted to his core. He hasn’t been touched by anyone but Stiles like this, not in years and years. It’ almost terrifying the way it hurts him, pains him without the physical blow. She kisses above his nipple, licking the skin, so reminiscent of Kate that it’s almost like she was standing right there in Stacey’s shoes.
‘’We’ve all had a little fun with your man,’’ she says casually. ‘’Taken turns with this fantastic body.’’ She trails her hand down, grabbing his flaccid cock in her hand, squeezing it painfully. Derek can’t help the noise he makes, ashamed and shaken. The shackles clink together when he tries to get away, but she squeezes harder and he has to still himself.
‘’When I find you,’’ Stiles says coolly, ‘’you’re going to wish you had prayed for God for mercy. You’ll wish you’d have asked your mother and father and siblings and your whole family to pray for your soul. Because when I find you, and I will find you, you won’t be given the opportunity for a quick and painless death.’’
Stiles ends the call there, leaving stunned hunters in his wake.
Thing One and Thing Two blink, while Thing Three clears his throat. ‘’Does… Does that mean we’re not getting the money?’’
Stacey pushes away from Derek and slams the computer screen down. ‘’Of course not,’’ she hisses. ‘’I’m going to text him the time and the place and then we’re going to - ‘’
Something thumps on the floor above, making her falter in mid sentence. There’s another thud, and something splintering.
‘’What the fuck’s going on?’’ Thing Two asks nervously, reaching for his gun. The others follow suit, creeping towards the door. Before they get too close, however, the door is slammed open, Stiles bursting in with his gun, all geared up in his FBI safety garnets, followed by people Derek doesn’t recognize. There’s a flurry of gunfire and shouting that doesn’t last longer than a couple minutes. By the end of it, all of the hunters are on the floor, crippled in one way or another, their weapons seized. The other FBI vested men secure the hunters efficiently, like they’ve done an op like this a dozen times before. Derek is pretty sure they have.
Stiles immediately rushes to Derek’s side, all of his earlier anger replaced with overflowing concern. ‘’Hey, hey,’’ he says softly, cupping Derek’s cheeks that are still no doubt beaten black and blue. ‘’You’re safe. I’m here, we’re gonna get you out of here, alright?’’
Derek swallows, his throat sore from screaming, rasping a desperate, soul-wrenching, ‘’Stiles ,’’ and the man’s expression falters.
‘’Shh, shh, we’re gonna get you out of here. I’ll take care of everything. I promise, okay? I promise.’’
Derek nods, letting his weight sag against Stiles’ strong hold, pressing his face against his mate’s neck, gulping in his scent as much as his lungs allow the movement. They take him down, slowly and carefully, draping him in multiple shock blankets.
Stacey, however, decides she hasn’t given up. ‘’How did you find us so fast?’’ she hisses.
Stiles shoots him a murderous glare. ‘’I haven’t forgotten you,’’ he says to her, ‘’though in few days, you’ll be wishing I had.’’
She curses him, but Stiles doesn’t give her even a second more of his time, lifting Derek in his hold and carrying him away.
‘’We have to update the chip system,’’ Stiles says, as he walks through the compound with Derek in his arms. ‘’We got the signal the second you activated it, but it disappeared after they took you underground. Scott, Allison and Erica are busting out the other underground shelters on the area. We weren’t sure which one you were in.’’
Looking down at his arm where the chip is seated under his skin, Derek sighs. Stiles echoes it, bringing Derek’s body even closer to his, trying to offer his body as a shade when the bright afternoon sun glares at them from the sky.
‘’We’re going to get home, and I’m going to help you clean up and tape anything that needs bandaging, and then I’m going to grovel as an apology for being an idiot. Because I was. And I’m sorry.’’
‘’It’s not your fault,’’ Derek croaks.
‘’Maybe not,’’ Stiles says diplomatically, clearly not wanting to upset Derek right now. ‘’But I still want to take care of you. Properly. Before I get my hands on that piece of shit and destroy her for trying to hurt what’s mine.’’
There’s a moment of silence as Stiles treks through the large yard, making his way to the tinted SUV’s. He gently situates Derek on the front passenger seat, careful of the wounds on his torso, strapping him in when he’s sure Derek’s comfortable. Then he hops behind the wheel, shoots out a couple messages from his phone and starts down from the fenced old military area. It’s clearly a defunded base that has been shut down for decades, but which these hunters have claimed territory over.
They manage to drive along the highway for ten minutes before Stiles looks over. He puts his hand over Derek’s where they’ve been resting limply on his lap, and Derek looks back.
‘’Are you going to be okay?’’
Licking his lips, tasting blood, Derek nods. ‘’I will be. Not soon, but. I will,’’ he answers. It’s good enough for Stiles it seems. The man nods, offering a reassuring squeeze before returning his gaze to the road.
‘’I still don’t understand why they took you though. There are easier ways to get money than extorting it from packs over their family member.’’
Derek clears his throat. ‘’It’s because of Kate.’’
Stiles shoots him a sharp look. ‘’What?’’
‘’Stacey,’’ he rasps out, speaking still so goddamn difficult. Every word grates at his throat, lungs screaming with exertion. ‘’She was… Friends with Kate, I think. She had, a, a video. Of me. When I was fifteen and with, uh, Kate.’’
The leather of the steering wheel creaks where Stiles grips it hard enough to make his knuckles white. ‘’There’s a video. Of you. Of when you were fifteen, with Kate. Doing… What exactly?’’
A little embarrassed, he admits, ‘’When we first had sex.’’
His voice rising with alarm, Stiles grits out, ‘’When you had sex? So, essentially, she’s in the possession of child - Oh my Jesus fucking christ. I can’t - I’m going to kill that son of a whore. I’m going to fucking rip her guts out and - ‘’
‘’Stiles,’’ Derek sighs tiredly. ‘’Please.’’
Curbing in his righteous anger, the man takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He repeats the motion enough until he’s calmer, and relaxes against the seat. ‘’Sorry.’’
Derek shakes his head. ‘’It’s okay. I just - Can we not talk about it right now?’’
‘’Of course,’’ Stiles says smoothly. ‘’I’m sorry. I’m being a horribly insensitive husband right now.’’
Derek squeezes Stiles hand, comforting. ‘’Let’s go home,’’ he says.
Stiles agrees wholeheartedly.
---
Derek awakes the next morning to Stiles’ exploring hands. His skin is as unblemished and wound free as it was before his kidnapping, thanks to Stiles’ healing concoction. His muscles are soft and lax where Stiles had spent an hour massaging them into place, letting Boyd continue for a moment when his own hands started to ache too much. It had been pleasant to be surrounded by his pack when he had been healing. Everyone had been subdued and quiet, the three days where Derek had been in the hands of Stacey and her men, nobody having slept a wink.
Derek had been luxuriously bathed by Stiles, redressed in Stiles’ clothing in an attempt to cover the scents of the filthy compound on his skin. Everyone had rubbed against him, offering healing and kinship. They’d watched romcoms in a huge puppy pile, until Derek had yawned so wide his jaw had cracked. Stiles had ushered the pack out then, with promises to come back tomorrow and dire threats at Stiles to keep Derek from moving too much while everything in his body stitched back together.
‘’Morning,’’ he mumbles, feeling Stiles’ mouth curve into a smile against his skin.
‘’Morning,’’ the man echoes, placing a tender kiss on his shoulder. The hands don’t stop their wandering though, and Derek basks in the feeling.
There’s something slick and warm gently rutting against the outside of his thigh and Derek blinks his eyes open, glancing down. There's a familiar hard, pink cock twitching against the bedding, occasionally bumping the dripping head against Derek's side.
Stiles had stripped them both out of clothes when they had returned to the bedroom last night, both of them needing the excessive skin contact. They’d tumbled in bed, exhausted and worn out, and conked out pretty fast after getting situated under the covers.
‘’Is this okay?’’ Stiles whispers, stilling.
‘’Yeah,’’ Derek mumbles. ‘’Feels good.’’
‘’Are you sure?’’ Stiles asks. ‘’Because she - Yesterday. With the - The touching.’’
Affection fills Derek’s chest, making his eyes burn with tears. Of course Stiles would seek consent after an encounter like that. Their whole relationship was founded on Stiles asking permission to touch, knowing Derek had been touch-starved and yearning for contact, but aware of the past consent issues he had faced.
Derek turns on his side, his skin briefly cool in the morning air, before he hauls Stiles close, hugging him tightly. ‘’I love you,’’ he whispers against the mop of Stiles’ head.
His mate returns the embrace just as fiercely, kissing Derek’s jugular as he echoes the words. He bends his head down and seals Stiles’ mouth in a searing kiss, craving the intimacy. Stiles gives as good as he takes, and soon they’re both rutting against each other, touching and rubbing every piece of skin they can find.
Stiles moans, baring his neck to Derek, letting him worry the flesh there, leaving red marks in his wake. Then there’s a warm hand circling both of their cocks and Derek groans, panting as Stiles works them both, both too dry and too rough, yet so, so perfect.
Stiles comes first, muffling the sounds of his sobs against Derek’s mouth. Derek lets him, moaning as the scent of Stiles’ orgasm fills his nose, and then maneuvering them so that Derek can bend down and lick all of the fluids off of Stiles stomach. His mate quivers with aftershocks, letting out another filthy groan as Derek starts down his softening cock, not leaving a single drop of come behind.
Whining, Stiles sits up and kisses him, chasing the taste of himself on Derek’s tongue.
‘’Can I blow you?’’ Stiles pants, fingers curling tightly against Derek’s hair.
‘’Yeah. Yeah, please,’’ Derek says, laying on the bed on his back, his legs falling open for Stiles to settle in between. The man does, hands trailing down his body, though skirting his belly and the V of his groin where no amount of years can fully overcome Kate’s touch.
His mate doesn’t spend time teasing him at all, instead going straight to Derek’s cock, swallowing it in the tight heat of his mouth. Hips buckling, Derek makes encouraging noises, his fingers caressing Stiles’ cheeks where they hollow with his cock inside.
Slowly, carefully, he starts rocking his hips into the smooth warmth, groaning when Stiles swirls his tongue over the head of his cock, suckling at the tip when he comes up for air, before ducking back down.
‘’Jesus. I’m - I’m gonna - ‘’ Come , he doesn’t manage to say, but Stiles knows the signs of his impending orgasm approaching, and just sucks harder, letting Derek chase his release. He comes, spiraling into a prolonged relief, Stiles milking his cock for all he’s worth.
Stiles returns the courtesy of cleaning him up, snuggling to Derek’s side after he’s done. Derek chases a couple of kisses from the man’s red and shiny lips, Stiles returning them enthusiastically.
Afterwards they just bask in the afterglow, lulling Derek into dozing off, warm and sated. Stiles’ fingers caress his skin where he can reach, eyes half mast with the soothing repetitive motions.
Tomorrow, Stiles is going to come home smelling of blood and fear and expensive perfume. He’s the left hand of the pack, the enforcer. He makes things disappear that need to, tracks down answers and designs their security. And Derek will feel relieved that another threat to the pack will be eliminated and that his mate will come home and undress the armor he wears outside their den, and let himself be soft with Derek. Lets Derek love him unconditionally, and love in return.
They are going to be safe as houses with Stiles on top of his game, upgrading their systems. Derek is sure things can finally be peaceful for awhile.
They deserve some quiet downtime. He tucks Stiles’ head under his chin and presses a kiss on top of the brown hair. With that, he relaxes against the bed, eyes slipping shut as sleep takes a hold of him.