There was blood on Stiles’ hands, but its owner was still gasping for breath. He and Scott tumbled across uncut grass, gripping each other like they were afraid one of them would disappear. The bitter stench of Scott’s blood sent ripples of panic through Stiles. a broken whine escaped him as he pawed at his mate’s side, trying to find the source. Stiles pressed Scott into the ground, his hand on the back of the other wolf’s head, like he needed everything he could tap to keep him safe. He missed the bad guy roll call. The Alpha wouldn’t let him miss his rage.
"It’s not murder when you’re putting down mutts." Kate Argent sneered, voice dripping with venom, but she scoped the field with an impassive air. Derek Hale didn’t even ping her radar. Two baby monsters, and their Daddy. This almost wasn’t a fair fight. She didn’t actually care.
Peter roared like he could take down the forest, sending ripples of terrified fury through Stiles’ form. For a moment, he couldn’t think, only smelling blood and fear and everything he wanted to destroy. The ring of bullets shook that off of him. Stiles had never been taught to fight with claws and fangs, but tackling - there was a reason Coach Finstock was President of the United States.
He ran at the armed hunter before he could think about how dangerous it was. He threw the man to the ground, snarling his victory, but there was already another descending on Derek. Over his shoulder, Stiles caught sight of Scott over his shoulder, and he knew. He just knew.
As Derek fought to keep standing, they tackled the human from behind, shoving him down the cellar steps. A gun went off, but their opponent didn’t get to his feet. At least he didn’t he stop breathing. Stiles helped pick Derek up, and didn’t protest when Scott helped. A shriek caught his attention, and he watched Kate Argent try to empty a round of bullets into their Alpha. Something must have hit. Stiles’ head felt like he’d used it to block a sledgehammer.
"We should just let them kill each other," he rasped breathlessly. But he looked to Scott. He always looked to Scott. They weren’t over yet.
Scott found himself moving in tandem like he and Stiles were back out on the lacrosse field. It didn’t have anything to do with the wolf, their connection went deeper and Scott found himself smiling with a feral grin. The alpha filled his head with rage and he couldn’t stop it, but at least he could direct it at those who were going after Derek. Protect instead of murder, he could fight for this. The hunter went down under the combined weight of two young wolves and Scott wedged himself under Derek’s arm, helping to life the man to his feet.
“We have to get him out of here!” If Kate had gone through the trouble of kidnapping and torturing Derek, he was a target and it was too dangerous to keep him here. As soon as her attention left the alpha, they’d be dead. The alpha…Peter Hale. Scott couldn’t believe the monster who’d turned him was Derek’s uncle the whole time. Poor guy thought he’d lost his family in the fire only to find out his uncle had been the one to murder his sister and take everything Derek had left. Just one more thing Peter had to answer for.
Peter’s shift was a terrible thing to watch. Bones cracked and rearranged beneath his skin as his entire body pulled itself apart and reformed into something hulking and monstrous. The eyes glowed red and Scott took an instinctive step backwards with a gasp. “Holy…” What the hell was that?! It wasn’t like any of their shifts, it was pure animal with drooling fangs and covered in dark fur. When its head swung in Scott’s direction, the boy almost screamed, the unspoken commands tearing his mind into shreds.
“You think that’s going to scare me?” Kate taunted. “What was it that useless Coach always says? The bigger they are…” She raised the shotgun as the alpha charged, getting off a few rounds before Peter caught his claws in her stomach and sent her flying back.
“No!” No one died, no one. Scott couldn’t bear any more blood. With a snarl and features fully twisted into the wolf, he slipped from beside Derek and launched himself at the alpha. Sharp teeth latched onto the beast’s shoulder and Scott held on for dear life.
"Shut the fuck up, dude. You’ve got bat nipples," Stiles snarled, but he’d ducked under Derek’s arm to help support him alongside Scott. That was a mistake. Scott didn’t need the help, and being so close made his head spin. Threat, his mind screamed, eyes flashing gold, as something more insistent urged him to claim Scott, yelling MINE.
Stiles gave pause, detangling himself easily before sagging against a wall. He’d stopped trying to control his shift. He had no inkling of where to start anyway, but Derek sent him over the edge. He wasn’t going to let anyone have Scott. Scott was his.
"Dammit, you suck…" He told the wall, trying to shake himself off, voice barely above a whisper. He waved his hand behind him, assuming Scott would show concern because Scott was his his to keep his. The scratch of his claws against rock made more noise than the first sounds of gunfire. They foudn them. Someone found them. Chris Argent and his band of merry assholes. "No- is there another way out of here?!"
The Alpha never had to howl out loud. Stiles still heard it in his bones. He was shaking in his skin, and the voices in his head only grew more harsh. There was no choice. No alternative. The sun was just beginning to rise, but Stiles emerged from the cellar, a monster.
"Hey-!" One of Kate’s hunters had found their path. He almost had a chance to yell out. Stiles barreled into him, and never looked back.
“Stiles!” And suddenly, their barely thought out plan fell apart. For a moment, Scott had really thought they were going to make it. They could rescue Derek and regroup with enough time to come up with a real plan to handle the alpha and the hunters and Stiles being bitten and god, why did it all have to be tonight? This was why you never said something was too easy. Bad things always happened.
Scott winced, feeling the call and his body fighting to respond. The hunters had to die, they were the last piece. If they could just die, then everything could go back to normal. He could have Stiles, Derek would be okay, they’d be safe and cared for and Pack. All he had to do was help, Scott liked to help and this way he could protect those he loved from getting hurt. It was the right thing to do. The boy squeezed glowing blue eyes closed, listening to the rapid hum of Stiles’s heartbeat lost in the gunfire. He had to stop this or someone was going to die!
“Scott, don’t!” Derek knew the boy was going to dash out into the fight before he’d moved.
“I have to stop them. Derek, he’s going to get hurt or he’s going to kill someone. I won’t…no one dies. Nobody else.” Scott leaned the injured wolf against the wall. “Stay here, you’re too hurt to fight. I’ll be back, I promise.”
“Scott!” The older wolf yelled after him, refusing to be left behind. These idiot kids, someone had to help them or they’d get themselves killed.
Scott burst into the firefight, racing towards Stiles and tackling him hard enough to send the both of them rolling. Everything was a confusion of bullets and yelling and Scott winced as he felt hot metal tear through muscle of his arm. “Stop, stop! Everybody, STOP!”
“Why are we stopping, Scott?” He could feel the voice slide around his skin and shivered, looking up with wide blue eyes at the man who stepped calmly into the edge of the fray. The side of the new arrival made the hunters pause, regrouping behind Kate who watched with a manic intensity. “
“Of course it would be you.” The hunter sneered, hefting the shotgun.
“Of course it would be me.” The alpha agreed, eyes flickering between the two young wolves crouched low to the ground and the dangerous hunter that would end his bloody streak of revenge. “We’re almost done, Scott. You and your friend, I know how you feel about each other. She’d kill you both if she had the chance, just like she did to my family. One last body and then we’re all safe. It’s over. You know a murderer deserves justice.”
Scott tightened his grip on Stiles, but found himself nodding. If she killed innocent people, then someone had to stop her. They were the only ones who could, the alpha was depending on them. They were protecting people, they were helping… “Who are you?”
“His name is Peter Hale.” Derek said, swaying in the doorway to the cellar, bloody and broken with a look of wounded shock. “He’s my uncle.”
He was supposed to apologize probably. Stiles couldn’t. What he’d discovered was fascinating. If he ran his hand across Scott’s shoulders, his scent changed, ever so slightly. When Stiles slipped his palm across Scott’s throat, it got betterworsebetter, and Stiles wanted his mouth there.
"I can’t fucking do this," he rasped, with more exasperation than fear, but all at once, he was on the move, following after Scott. They didn’t have time for hesitation.
"What is this guy, Batman? Complete with dead family, and fuck I never disliked Batman." Stiles said, making a face. Heresy occurred today. There was a padlock on the door. Stiles was screaming as soon as his fingers curled around it. He grit his jaw, fangs digging into his mouth. Without hesitation, he kicked in the door. Wood splintered beneath his heel, but anger still wrecked his system. His hands were shaking as he looked at them, the lock’s shape burned into his palms, but the damage was already disappearing.
What fun there had been quickly dissipated. Stiles could recognize the smell that hit him now. He’d known it even while human. There was so much blood. The smell of burned flesh made him gag. He held Scott’s elbow, and didn’t now who he was trying to help.
They still went in. Derek Hale looked as bad as they expected.
Scott couldn’t stop the low whine as Stiles’s hands kept pulling his attention away from their rescue mission. For the first time, this whole werewolf thing didn’t seem so terrible. They’d need to spend a night or ten exploring what this meant. He was getting his post-prom hookup, god damn it. He’d waited long enough and tonight was supposed to be something special.
It certainly had been something.
“Batman is too grimdark, dude. Captain America, that’s what you want. Guy never had nipples on his uniform.” He winced as Stiles demolished the door, so much for a subtle entrance. The smell was overwhelming and Scott pressed his sleeve against his face to try and filter out some of the misery. What he saw was so much worse. Derek hung limply from chains, burned and bloodied, wires strapped to his side. He look like he’d been there a while and Scott rushed immediately to the older wolf’s side.
“Derek! C’mon dude, help me get him out of these.” He said, digging his fingers into the metal cuffs and pulling back until the lock mechanism snapped. “Derek, are you okay? What the hell happened?”
“Kate Argent.” The words were soft and looked like they cost Derek something important just to say.
“Yeah, got up close and personal with the hunters recently too. And the alpha.” Scott glanced over at Stiles, his new werewolf-i-tude obvious to the Hale.
Derek’s eyes locked on Stiles, curling his lips back in a snarl. “Idiot.”
“Insults later. We’re gonna get you out of here and we’ll fix this, okay? Just lean on me, we’ll get you somewhere safe and we’ll figure out what to do next before the hunters show up and shoot us all in the face.”
Stiles nearly collided with Scott, sneakers skidding on the forest floor. All he could hear was the other wolf’s pulse, and that suited him just fine. He pressed closer, a clawed hand sliding up Scott’s spine to settle on his shoulder. His wolf beckoned him to push further, insisting without words that Stiles had chased this one. He could catch him now… Keep him.
He shook his head like it hurt, shoving his forehead into Scott’s shoulder. “Smell something, Fido?”
They were fighting words for someone who had to speak through a mouth full of fangs. This was the sort of hairy Stiles always wanted to be at 16, but now he couldn’t even appreciate it.
No sooner had he spoken did he sense it for himself. Something - different. Something that made him want to give chase. He was growling before he could identify it. The Hale house was as quiet as the grave it had become. It took Stiles too long to try and think with his human brain. He’d almost forgotten he had it.
"No one should’ve survived that, but like… Think Sky Fall. Think fucking Home Alone. Secret werewolf tunnels of escape, or other ways in fuck you smell good.”
Scott leaned back into the other boy without a thought, fevered werewolf heat curling between them and almost tangible. “Haha, very funny, Scruffy.” He muttered, distracted by Stiles’s words and he wanted so badly to…
“Geez.” He hissed through his teeth, taking a step away to steady himself. There were in the middle of the friggin woods with the king of all haunted houses looking for Derek Hale of all people and trying to duck the attention of a murderous alpha who could jerk them around like killer puppets. It was not the time to think about make outs. Being around Stiles like this broke through the walls he’d tried to build to control his beast. Always the worst influence, Stilinski. “Sorry. Stay focused.” It was good advice, but Scott didn’t sound nearly as convinced as he tried to make himself.
“Werewolf escape tunnels?” He frowned, fishing out his cellphone and shining the light from the screen at the ground as he slowly circled around the ruined house. “Maybe not escape tunnels, more like…a basement. One of those ones with a door on the outside, right? Root cellars or whatever. It’s like I can almost hear…” It was so quiet, he could catch the faint stuttering thump of a foreign heartbeat. It was easier to track when he was shifted and he let the wolf take over, trying to find the source. The howl had come from here, he’d been so sure. His feet scraped against wood and Scott stopped, kicking back the fallen leaves to uncover the latched doors of the cellar. “Bingo.”
They actually thought things would go well. With fancy suits stashed under Scott’s bed, lingering touches, and a rough idea of where Derek Hale was (“- kidnapped, captured, whatever, the Alpha showed me, Scott in my head; he showed-! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”), they thought they had something like a fighting chance. Stiles just wouldn’t stop touching Scott, with hands that were sometimes claws, and eyes that belonged to a monster but were so different that Scott’s vibrant blue. He could still drive though. Stiles counted that as a win. As his Jeep crossed into the preserve, he second-guessed that.
Stiles had never cared for the forest until now. He was as involved in environmental conservation as the next person, sure, but this was something else entirely. This was torture. Everything was so loud. Every snapping twig and rustling leaf… Every smell, every sight. Stiles couldn’t open his eyes, not all the way. He could still see every blurred outline in agonizing detail, like a smudged drawing of neon chalk, shot straight into his skull.
He had to stay calm, had to follow the Alpha Scott the sound Hale -? Had to follow. He tried. He tried so hard. The memory of the werewolf’s howl rang in his ears; Stiles swore it was getting louder. He was running for it, before he realized it, but that was okay. Scott was right there with him.
This was a nightmare, but Scott couldn’t keep a feral thrill from racing down his spine whenever Stiles dragged hands down his skin. It made it difficult to focus on anything else but the way his eyes glowed a molten gold and his scent had changed into something wild. He smiled with too many sharp teeth, taking off through the preserve and running like he never had to stop. The exhaustion was gone and even though he was back in the Preserve for the second time that night, Scott almost felt like laughing as he sped through the trees with Stiles by his side.
He could feel the call and a part of him, so much of him, wanted to answer. Resisting didn’t make any sense when the alpha wanted them to all be pack together. They’d protect their own, this would finally be over and Scott would finally find that place where he could belong. And Stiles…Stiles would be with him the entire time just like he wanted. Scott gave a huffing bark, trying to drive the voice from his thoughts. He could do this, they could hold on to each other and not let him inside. No one else died.
Scott slid to a stop, breathing in the rotting leaves and growing things and the hint of sunrise brightening the horizon. There was something out here and more than one of them and of course, it would lead back to the ashes of the Hale house. The fire was the center of everything, that’s what Stiles had figured out. It was time they demanded answers.
Scott’s heart was big and generous and kind. Stiles thought about the lives Scott would never forget taking, but he could follow that heart. There were worse things to track, and if it ever stopped beating, Stiles wasn’t sure what he would do. It anchored him now, gave him a sense of direction. When he was this close to Scott, he knew which way was up, and how to make the world stop spinning so fast.
He leaned into Scott’s hand, but succumbed to the irate growl that teased the back of his throat.
"No," Stiles denied, moving with Scott, only for his hand to find the curve of Scott’s hip, trying to hold him in place. "You can’t leave, dude. You’re not even wearing clothes. Normally I wouldn’t complain, but…"
His eyes were glowing again. His pulse sped up, and Stiles was certain that his Scott would disappear the moment he took his eyes off him. The answer to that was simple. He wouldn’t let him out of his sight. “This isn’t the Alpha’s plan. You don’t know what’s out there. You need me. And bands.”
He surged forward, brave like Scott was so good at making him, to kiss him on the lips. Stiles made it linger, the sweetest apology. If they were going to die tonight, Stiles wasn’t going to regret not doing that.
"I’ll be back up," he whispered, like his wolf wasn’t itching beneath his skin, desperate for him to claim.
The kiss knocked the protests from his lips as something inside of him twisted, recognizing the feral infection now stalking through Stiles’s blood. They were connected too, it was different than the obedience the alpha demanded but something new that he didn’t quite have a word for. Bound. Wolfbros? Pack. Created with the same bite and tied to the same alpha. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just foreign and inhuman and it left Scott worried.
“I was planning on putting pants back on before I left the house, you know.” He couldn’t help himself from snarking just a little, dragging his smile across Stiles’s mouth. “I haven’t gone that wild, geez. Plus, I doubt it’s super intimidating when you show up with your junk hanging in the breeze.” Bright yellow eyes looked so out of place in Stiles’s face where all he could see was clear amber. Why yellow? His had changed, but he still wasn’t sure why. Derek had eyes like him, maybe they changed color the longer you lived with them?
Stiles didn’t have any control, the bite still fresh in his body and only hours old. After all these weeks, even Scott didn’t feel like he had a handle on his monster. They were ticking time bombs, it was dangerous for them both to go, but he knew he couldn’t just leave Stiles behind. Unless he was willing to chain his friend to the radiator or something, there wouldn’t be any way to keep Stiles from following him straight into danger without a good plan. Somehow, the thought of that actually made him smile. “Okay. We go save Derek, stop a murdering alpha, not die, and then I get to have my after-prom night. I had plans, I’m not changing them because of werewolves. Sounds easy.”
Stiles didn’t like that in the slightest. A throaty growl escaped him, but he launched himself at his partner, clumsily tangling himself against Scott’s limbs. Stiles sacrificed discomfort to stuff his face in the crook of the other werewolf’s throat, taking in an eager drag of his scent like he was trying to huff coke. It almost had the same effect.
He visibly sagged against Scott, idly licking at tanned skin. “You smell so good…”
There was no room for embarrassment, not when Scott was warm, and willing beneath him. Maybe there would be tomorrow, or a week from now, or whenever he found the strength to laugh at himself for this mess. Stiles folded himself against him, tracking the progress of his frantic pulse as he stroked over toned muscle. His hand rested over Scott’s chest, like he thought he could stifle his heart that way. Stiles shivered.
Derek, they had to care about Derek.
"My head feels like it’s gonna explode, dude. How do you make it stop?"
Oh God, did he mess up. “I can’t…”
Stiles tried to force the words out, but from what sounded like a million miles away, came an answer: a long, wrecked howl.
He barely protested, tipping his head back and letting Stiles’s hands sooth him. There was a spark beneath his fingertips now and Scott gasped, confused by what his wolf wanted. It was another way to lose control, if sweeter. He’d let himself fall into the feeling if he could, be swallowed in it and never escape. Scott wanted to stay right here and push back, test the wolf that lurked in Stiles’s body but there were others counting on him.
Later. He promised himself that they would actually have a later.
“I don’t know.” Scott admitted, brushing the bangs from Stiles’s forehead. “I usually just focus on you and it helps. It brings me back when I get to close to losing it. I can hear your heart beating from a mile away sometimes, I always know it’s yours. I find your voice until it blocks out everything else in my head. Just find something to hold on to and don’t let go.”
The howl caused him to jump, immediately trying to sit up. He could do this, there wasn’t any other choice. “I have to help him. Stiles, you need to stay here. This is too new, you don’t have any control. I’ll find Derek and bring him back and then we’ll figure out with the alpha, okay? Just stay here and don’t let him into your head.”
Stiles let out a pitiful whimper. It was disgusting. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He was supposed to protect Scott. Scott was brave, and fierce, and loyal, but Stiles was supposed to protect him. Stiles was the only one strong enough to protect him. Scott couldn’t handle power; he’d never had any, and Stiles was much better suited at wielding it. He was supposed to succeed where Scott couldn’t, but his head was spinning. All Stiles could do was hold on, letting gentle words wash over him.
"I love you," he repeated, wrapping his arms around the other werewolf’s broad shoulders. Scott’s weight was a familiar, well-loved burden, but Stiles’ hands were stained red. Stiles wouldn’t mind being crushed, if it meant making the pain go away.
He just knew Scott wouldn’t let him.
He buried his face in his best friend’s neck, pulling him closer. He could breathe Scott in like this, and waiting for seconds to pass became easier. His hands hurt, but claws receded until nothing but blunt fingers were left behind.
The monster wasn’t gone, but it was quiet. Stiles couldn’t tell which monster was his, and which was the Alpha. He ran his hands down Scott’s bare back, over sticky blood and healing wounds.
"Scott." He rasped, as the shell of his ears curved into something more human and his fangs disappeared. "It’s so loud."
Scott nodded his head shakily, body going limp against the other boy. He was so tired, everything hurt but he couldn’t rest yet. He traced his fingers along the curve of Stiles’s ear with a small smile. “I know…it’ll get better.” It was a promise that might not be real, but he had to believe that they’d get through it. There had to be a reason to fight.
It was going to be so much harder if the two of them couldn’t control themselves, the alpha could tear through both of their minds and there’d be no one left to pull them back. Scott closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of Stiles’s skin and the pulse of his heart through his chest. If Stiles needed him, then Scott would find a way to be strong. He’d never done it before, but he’d never had anything worth taking a stand for. “We’re still so boned you know, dude.”
He didn’t want to move. Tonight seemed never ending and all he wanted to do was take a shower and curl up next to his Stiles until noon. Or later. Maybe until hunger finally drove them out of bed before stuffing poptarts in their mouths and heading back to his room. He didn’t think it was an unreasonable wish, but things never did seem to work out the way he hoped. Scott lifted himself off of his friend with a grimace of pain, sitting back on the floor with a thump. “So how do we find Derek?”
Stiles was terrified. He swiped at Scott, trying his damnedest to get away, terrified and panicked. There was another voice in his head, and Stiles couldn’t tell if it just got there, or if it had been there all night. Everything was closing in, threatening to suffocate him in a heady haze. Stiles thrashed, like he could claw his way out. His enemy was right in front of him, trapping him, but he wouldn’t succumb to this. He couldn’t give up.
Stiles howled, long and low. The sound bounced off the walls, echoing through the night, but it left him shaking.
Scott tore through everything. It felt like Stiles could breathe again.
"Scott?" He asked, choking on a sob. His eyes flashed. Sharp claws still dug into his best friend’s shoulder, and Stiles didn’t understand why everything hurt so much why couldn’t it stop? What was he supposed to do? He’d do anything, everything to make it go away. Wasps swarmed through his head, and they were trying to fly out in all directions.
"I don’t-" I don’t know but I love you don’t leave me please I love you I loveyou Iloveyou Stiles grabbed his skull, like he could force his head to stop throbbing. “Make it stop. Make it stop!”
Scott took the claws, letting Stiles tear him apart if it meant he could keep him. He grit his teeth against the pain and held on, straddling the thrashing body as well as he could. “You can do this. You can shut him out, just look at me, Stiles. Follow me back.” The alpha was strong, he knew how easy it was to just let him in and surrender. He made everything so clear when nothing else made sense, Scott could still feel that bond linking him to his creator, but he was not going to fall.
“I love you, do you know that?” Scott said through his teeth, hands closing around Stiles’s wrists and pinning the other boy’s arms above his head. “I had such a crush on you this whole time, Jackson was so right. I really sucked at being subtle, but I tried. All I wanted was for you to just look at me, the hottest guy in school. Mr. Popular. You didn’t even know I existed…and then you did. I don’t know why you asked me out and I’m still almost convinced it was a trick, but you smiled at me and I let you have everything. Everything. And I love you! I was supposed to tell you tonight, it was supposed to be perfect a-and…”
The wolf let go of Stiles’s wrists, threading hands through his friend’s hair and leaning down until Scott’s body was draped across his. “I won’t let him hurt you. I’ve always got you.”
Stiles thought about a lonely kid hidden under too many layers, squaring off against the best the team of district champions in lacrosse had to offer. You don’t have to do this, Scott would say, certainly afraid but impossibly brave, unless it was Jackson, then there was a special brand of snark reserved for his smug ass.
Scott could use kindness as a weapon, but he didn’t. He used it because he meant it, and his hands were gentle in Stiles’ hair. Stiles’ claws dug into his best friend’s shoulders, drawing blood, but the metallic stench made his stomach roll. He’d cleaned so much off of Scott’s hands.
All at once, he squawked, surprised, backing away from the other wolf with a hastily aborted growl.
"You’re not a monster," Stiles repeated, but the rest of that argument died on his tongue. Only hurt the ones who deserved it, saving us all helping us, they hurt us they’re wrong- he shook his head, trying to find a lick of sense in any of this. He wanted to protect Scott. All he wanted to do was take care of him, and keep him.
"Scott…" He didn’t recognize his own voice. His hands clenched over air, unforgiving claws scratching at the center of his palm, and Stiles couldn’t take it. He bolted, making a run for closest exit.
As exhausted as he was, he was on his feet as soon as Stiles moved. He was glad he’d closed the bedroom door behind himself, the delay giving him the precious half-second he needed to collide into the other boy and send them both toppling to the ground. Scott pinned him, though the werewolf strength didn’t seem to mean as much against another wolf, holding on as tightly as he could to keep Stiles from wriggling out of his grasp.
“I’m not letting you go!”
If the alpha was pulling apart Stiles’s thoughts, who knew what would happen if he left. Scott was not going to let his friend become a killer too, he could carry that burden for the rest of his life. No matter what Scott did from now on or how he tried to be a better person or how many people he helped, the words ‘and a murderer’ would always follow on his description. There was no coming back from that, there shouldn’t be any coming back from that, and he was going to shoulder this alone. No one else died if he could help it, least of all by Stiles’s hand.
“Stop fighting me, you asshole! I’m not letting you run.” Damnit, he couldn’t use the mountain ash on his own and now that Stiles had been turned, they were stuck. “Will you just stop already?! I love you!”