Chapter Text
“SSSSTTTIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLEEEEEESSSS!”
Lydia’s wail tore its way from her throat right in the middle of a pack meeting. The warning cry was woeful and terrified, raw in its foreboding. It pierced the veil and brought every were to their knees.
The sound was barely dying out and every member of the pack was already scrambling to their feet. Shaken voices overlapped as they rushed the dazed banshee, all asking questions as she struggled to return to herself.
“Where?”
“What’s happening?”
“Did you see him?”
“I’m calling him now,” Scott announced, struggling to hold his cell in his trembling hands.
“Lydia? Lydia, look at me,” Derek urged, a slight tremor in his voice as he fought to be gentle with her despite his alarm. She blinked through tears and struggled to meet his gaze as he crouched in front of her. “What did you see?”
“Forest… It’s dark… Fangs… Blood… His Dad is screaming for him…” Her lips trembled as she shook her head and gasped, “Oh, God… He’s dying, Derek. I can feel it… It hurts so much… Oh, poor Stiles…” She broke off into sobs, covering her mouth with her hand and keeping her eyes open wide, afraid of what she might see if she closed them.
Derek’s jaw flexed as he held back a wave of emotion. He gave Lydia’s shoulder a squeeze of support, then quickly stood and crossed the loft.
“Is he still on that fishing trip with his Dad?” Kira asked.
“Where are they staying?” Malia asked.
“2 hours North. It’s… it’s like this massive state park,” Scott answered distractedly, gripping his hair as the line continued to ring. “They were renting a cabin for the week.” The voicemail greeting began to play and Scott drew in a deep, choppy breath as he tried to rein in his panic. “H-he’s not answering!”
“Just keep trying. I’ll try to reach the Sheriff,” Peter offered, looking uncharacteristically rattled as he made the call.
“Noah made sure I had their location, just in case,” Derek said, already holding his keys and coat and heading for the door. “Ethan, Kira, Danny – stay here with Lydia and make sure she’s okay. Scott, Cora, Malia, Peter – you’re with me. We’ll take the SUV. We’re going. Now.”
Scott followed after Derek on autopilot, phone still pressed to his ear and heart in his throat.
_______________________________________________
They were already racing down the highway with Derek doing at least 30 miles per hour over the speed limit when something unexpected happened.
Stiles… answered.
“Heyya, Scotty,” Stiles greeted.
Scott gasped and gripped the back of his head, squeezing his eyes shut against tears. “STILES! Oh my God, dude! Are you okay? Lydia screamed for you.”
“Oh… She did?” Stiles asked, sounding a bit dazed.
“What the hell happened? Are you safe?” Scott demanded.
“Uh… yeah. Yeah. No. All good here.” Stiles answered simply.
A look of concern passed from one passenger to the next at his non-committal response.
Malia reached up and tapped at her ear, arching a purposeful brow at Cora, Peter, and Derek. They nodded in agreement. No sounds could be detected in the background of the call. No TV or voices. No animal sounds. No breathing. No heartbeats.
Nothing aside from Stiles’ voice.
It was disconcerting.
“What happened? Where are you?” Scott pressed, still frantic.
“Um… in the woods not too far from our cabin,” Stiles answered. He cleared his throat before saying, “We did… uh… just have a little run in with a… mountain lion. Was a seriously close call. Probably what set Lydia off. We’re all good, though. All… all in one piece,” he chuckled, but his laughter was hollow. “Which is more than I can say for the mountain lion…” Almost as an afterthought, he muttered bitterly, “He won’t be munching on any more unsuspecting campers out here.”
Derek’s features twisted suspiciously at Stiles’ dark tone and phrasing. He leaned back in his seat, keeping his eyes on the road but angling his face toward the phone to demand, “Any more? Were you hurt?”
Stiles huffed in reply, his tone swiftly taking on its usual cheer. “Heeeeyy, Der. No. I’m good, big guy. Really. You can disengage your ‘Doom Brows.’ Geez, I swear, I can feel you scowling from here.”
Cora snorted at Stiles’ words and the way Derek flinched, seeming to suddenly realize how severely his brows had been drawn together.
“Well… sounds like you had a bad night,” Scott said, glancing around at the others. “We’re already on our way up there. We can make sure you guys get settled back in okay.”
“What?” Stiles squawked. “NO. No, Scott. It’s fine. Seriously, dude. It’s already over. I’m just a little rattled. Dad and I will just get back inside and lock up. No need to come rushing up here with the rest of the fang gang.” He raised his voice purposefully as he called, “Sourwolf? Stand down! I repeat, stand down! Call off the canine cavalry!”
Derek frowned severely. He could not shake the feeling that something was seriously wrong, but Stiles was insisting he was fine. Part of Derek wanted to just keep driving regardless, just to see with his own eyes that they were safe. He did not want to ignore the teen’s request, though. This week was supposed to be about Stiles and his Dad spending time together away from all the craziness of Beacon Hills. It seemed more than a little rude to come crash their bonding time with half the pack.
Trying to come up with an alternative solution, Derek thought back to a rambling, one-sided conversation he had been subjected to by Stiles. Derek knew this had the potential to earn him a LOT of ribbing, but he grudgingly decided the risk was worth it.
Gritting his teeth, Derek reluctantly said, “Okay, we’ll turn around. You guys are heading back on Tuesday, right? Still planning on stopping off in Poughkeepsie?”
Every other passenger in the SUV looked at Derek in confusion.
Stiles, however, let out a clip of gleefully astonished laughter. His voice echoed through the SUV as he cried, “Oh. My. GOD. Derek Hale, you big, beautiful, broody bastard! Our bromance is legendary! I cannot believe you remembered the code words! I freaking knew you listened to me!”
Stiles let out that victorious sound he always made when he fist-pumped the air in celebration.
Derek rolled his eyes and shook his head. God help him now.
“Poughkeepsie?” Peter repeated in amusement, clasping his hands in his lap to convey his complete interest, and turning in his seat to fully appreciate the red hue his nephew’s ears had taken on.
“Shut up, Peter,” Derek said tersely.
“You and Stiles have code words?” Peter asked in delight. “Do you have… safe words, as well?”
Derek growled in warning.
“It’s from a TV show,” Stiles explained, ignoring Peter’s teasing. “I told Derek about it and said the pack should come up with our own code words for when we’re in trouble. What Derek was asking me in code was whether I’m actually okay or someone is forcing me to lie and say I am. Although… ‘Funkytown’ would have been the correct way to signal that, but I think Derek would have died a little inside if he were forced to work that into a sentence. Ain’t that right, Der?”
“This is true,” Derek deadpanned.
“Seriously, son?” came the Sheriff’s exhausted voice in the background on Stiles’ end of the call. His shuffling footsteps accompanied his words. “You’re harassing Derek? Now? After all of… this?”
Peter tilted his head to the side, glancing to Malia as they assessed the sounds coming through the line. They could hear the Sheriff’s heartbeat and breathing now, but nothing else.
“Dad, trust me. I will always find the time to harass Derek,” Stiles assured.
“So… you’re really okay up there?” Scott pressed worriedly. “You’re sure you don’t want us to come?”
“No, we’re good,” Stiles insisted. “You guys just head back and try to enjoy the rest of your night. Thanks for the concern, though. Seriously. And hey, tell Lydia I said sorry for scaring her. You guys calling my phone actually really helped. The sound kinda provided a perfectly timed distraction, so… Just tell her I realize it must have been awful for her, but if she hadn’t sounded the alarm, I literally wouldn’t be talking to you right now.”
A collective sigh of relief was breathed.
“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Malia announced bluntly.
“AH. Yeah. Um,” Stiles laughed awkwardly. “That – that would have sucked. Thanks, Malia.”
“Get your asses back inside the cabin and stay put until the morning, would you?” Cora ordered, then grumbled under her breath, “Jesus, we let you out of our sight for a couple of days…”
“Yes, ma’am, Commander Cora,” he chuckled. “And, uh, hey, listen…” His voice took on a weary, gravelly, utterly sincere tone as he sighed, “Just… thanks, everyone. I appreciate that you were all racing up here to help. I know if you had been here when this happened, you would have done whatever it took to keep me safe. I know that. Without a doubt. And it… it really means a lot to me.” He paused for a moment, his voice somehow quieter and even more broken as he added, “I don’t think I tell you enough that I appreciate you all. I’m really lucky we all ended up together.”
Derek’s expression softened at the sound of Stiles’ voice. Something about it pulled at his heart in a confusing way. Stiles’ tone was evoking a sorrow that did not seem to fit with the words he was speaking. There was an intense sense of loss there lurking behind his words… A resignation to something unspoken. Derek fought to swallow past a lump rising in his throat, unable to even attempt to speak a reply.
Everyone glanced at each other with varying looks in response to the emotions the teen was expressing.
“Aww, listen to you getting all mushy because you had a near-death experience,” Cora teased despite her eyes looking suspiciously wet. “We appreciate you, too, you big dork.”
“We love you, buddy. Anything you need, just call, okay?” Scott said.
“Yeah. I will. Thanks, bro,” Stiles answered, sniffling quietly. “Talk to you later.”
The line went dead.
Derek drove in silence for another ten minutes before Cora reminded him that he needed to turn around and head back home.
She had to remind him again five minutes after that.