wannabebatman | (no subject)

In hindsight, this wasn't his smartest idea ever. Not the rescue op; that was pretty genius, if he did say so himself. A loud conversation with Scott in his bedroom while half the Alpha pack was home about Isaac being hurt in the woods, some BS about Derek being missing, Scott running off towards the preserve...half an hour later, every Alpha they'd seen enter the house that day was gone again. At that point, Stiles and Alison broke in the back door to see what was happening, along with a totally not hurt Isaac. It was pretty brilliant, and actually worked. They found Boyd and Erica, bound with wolfsbane and silver, bruised and barely breathing in the basement, broke their bonds and hauled them upstairs. It was so easy. He couldn't stop being surprised about that.

Too bad they hadn't counted on the twins. Two alphas, lying in wait for this very reason. Just in case. They jumped the bunch of them at the top of the stairs, Isaac dumping the much-larger Boyd on top of Stiles to take the brunt of the attack. Alison made hauling the mostly-unconscious Erica while working a crossbow one-handed look almost effortless, and Stiles was trying to drag Boyd towards the door, but Isaac could only hold two of them off for so long. As he went flying into the wall, Alison made the door, and Stiles had to make a choice. It was stupid, made no sense at all, was based entirely on a dumbass idea and desperation. Grabbing one of Alison's silver arrows, he dumped Boyd back on the recovering Isaac and told him to leave. He didn't stop to see if Isaac listened, because if he stopped he'd have to think about what he was doing, running past the two snarling werewolves and yelling anything he could to get them to follow. He just wasn't planning on both of them actually following him.

He almost made it. All those layers of his working in his favor for once. They'd grab him, he'd wriggle out of another layer of clothing. Coat, hoodie, flannel... he was at the back door when they finally grabbed him for good. His resistance bought the rest of them maybe five minutes at most, but hopefully that was enough for Scott to make it back. Not that he could think or worry, after everything went black.

When he finally came to, with the worst migraine and blurry vision, Stiles was alone. Down in that same basement they'd just grabbed the others from. Alone was probably good, but being tied to a chair? Probably less good. Yeah, not his smartest idea ever. All he could hope was that Scott and Derek had managed to get the three alphas into the trap in the woods, and that the others had actually made it to the clinic. And maybe that this was just a concussion, and not actually brain hemorrhaging. He couldn't think beyond that. Probably a good thing, because nothing good was coming of this.

Threaded | Flat

Derek hadn't been happy about the plan. At all. But in the end he'd had to concede it was their best shot at getting the Alphas out of the way and getting to Boyd and Erica, because there'd been no way in hell they'd have a chance of getting past the front door if they'd all still been there. Hell, if even two of them had. That didn't mean he'd been happy about it, though, even when he had concrete proof that it had worked, and he'd watched from concealment as all three alphas had charged into the clearing in the woods, so confident and sure of themselves (and Derek's incompetence) that they'd never even considered it might be a trap.

Killing them hadn't necessarily been part of the plan, but Derek had always known that death, for him or them, was the most likely outcome. The rage they'd turned on he and Scott when they'd found themselves tricked and trapped had made it inevitable. And much as he'd hated to accept it, Chris Argent's presence was the only thing that had made it possible. Wolfsbane bullets slowing them enough to give he and Scott a chance... and, christ, the strain of making sure Scott didn't strike the killing blow on any of them felt like it had nearly killed him. In the end, Argent took down the biggest of them, a massive man whose name Derek never caught, with a clean shot to the head, and slowed down Deucalion and Kali enough that Derek could take them both out.

In the end, it leaves he and Scott both broken and battered, their own blood seeping into the mulch of the forest floor as they slump down, exhausted, next to the already cooling bodies of their enemies... and Derek barely resists the urge to snarl at Argent as he moves between them, checking that they are in fact dead. The surge of power from having killed two alphas in such short order is terrifying, and it's making it harder to control his rage and suspicion of the man, despite the fact he's just helped them. He's bent over, eyes closed tight as he listens to Scott pant for breath and Argent move around the clearing when he realizes that something has changed. Something important. Something terrible, and Derek's on his feet, snarling as he heads back towards town at a run before he even realizes he's moved.

He barely registers Argent yelling after him, or the sound of his and Scott's and Argent's phones starting to go off one after the other. He can feel his whole pack again, felt it the moment Boyd and Erica broke away from whatever the alphas had done to dim the connection to him, but what he feels now isn't them. It's something sharper and brighter and stronger and it's radiating pain and he needs to stop it. Now.