Teen Wolf Imagines

Coming undone

Summary: Things are still heavy and a surprise visitor shows up.

The secret was out for better or worse.

Derek realized the wolves were still growling, Scott still growling just not sure at who-you or Derek. Derek set you down, turning in front of you, and now protectively guarding you, growling at the wolves. His own betas backed down, but still standing defensively. When Stiles noticed that Scott wasn't backing down he got in front of Scott, grabbing him by his shoulders. "Dude, chill, bring it back," Stiles pleaded, "it's fine we're all friends here." Scott shook his head and looked at Stiles, his eyes dimming as dismissed his betas, whispering in shock to Stiles, "You knew?"

Derek growled protectively, Malia was still up in arms. "Malia, it's okay." Malia growled at Scott, glaring at you, "Malia, stop." Her eyes flashed blue, a challenge to you and a stand against Scott. Derek was guarding you, but Malia found your eyes, stepping forward and holding her eyes a steady blue as she roared.

You got angry, you've never hurt any of them, you've never done anything to put them in danger, you've come to think of all of them as family. You could feel your control slipping away, the betrayal that you feel from your pack awakening anger you'd not felt in a long time. Malia let out another low growl, causing your walls of resolve to fall.

You stepped out from behind Derek, claws slowly descending as your eyes lit up, still connected with Malia's. You took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control, but lost it all when Malia started to move. Before she was able to make a full step you growled at her, shaking yourself to your core.

It was the first time in a long time you'd been able to release that much emotion as a wolf. Your roar matched Derek's, shaking the windows and walls. Malia cowered at you, taking in the rage that came from you. You calmed down when Malia's put her claws away, your breath out of control and heavy. Malia was still reeling, still on edge after your display of power, "Someone explain something, right now."

You were shaking, Derek could sense it all, your power, fear, shame, guilt, anxiety, relief, need, love. He was on fire, overwhelmed with his own inner turmoil as well as yours. He feels you cry out silently as Stiles reaches for you, and Derek snaps at him, growling and causing Stiles to jump back. "No."

Derek turns to really look at you, tear soaked face, puffy eyes, rattled and shaking. His eyes finding where he'd cut you, a rush of guilt filling him. He placed his hand gently on your arm right above where he had clawed you. Sighing, and turning to the pack, "Stay put." He looked back to you, his hand around you and on the small of your back, "Come, mate."

Your feet peddled for you, following close next to Derek as he pulled you into his bathroom, having a spare shirt he handed it to you and turned around. "I would like to have you rub off your lotion shit, I'll teach you how to block your scent-huff-I'm surprised-huff-please, mate," he sounded desperate, handing you a rag, "take it off." You wet the rag, slowly rubbing off the lotion and drop or two of blood off of you. When you went over the blood, Derek's eyes ignited, "I'm sorry about that." You shook your head, "No, it's fine, it's the least I-" Derek huffed again, "Don't say it." He heard you put his shirt on and turned around. Looking at you in the light he could tell how irritated your eyes were, how puffy your cheeks became, how pale you looked, how scared you really were.

He started mindlessly scenting you wherever he could, so you'd smell like him, trying to comfort you. "Why?" He asked you, still gently scenting you, letting you scent him as well. It was peaceful. "Why hide from me?" He asked again, this time in a lower tone. "I was scared, it's a long story, I'm sorry." You started tearing up again, one falling from your eye and Derek quickly looked you in the eyes, wiping it away. "There's no need for that. We're confused but you're part of our pack." You were shaking again, Derek could sense the fear, no the terror, coming from you. He pulled you into a hug, wrapping his arms around as much of you as he could. "It's going to be okay," he sighed, petting your hair, "and as much as I just want to hold you," a deep breath in, "you have to explain it to us, you have to right now. I know you smell them, hear them." You whispered to him, spilling fresh tears, "They hate me." Derek rocked you, speaking softly, "No, they don't, I promise." He shook his head again, "Stilinski knew, Stilinski!" He laughed, deep and full. God, you thought, that laugh will be the end of me. You giggled a little, causing Derek to kiss your forehead, asking, "You okay now?" You wiped your eyes, nodded and let him pull you out of the bathroom.

"I can't believe you knew!" Scott is playfully teasing Stiles, "How long? I tested her! Did anyone else know?" Scott looked around and you spoke up from behind Derek. "No, Stiles helped me look for my mom." Scotts face when from playful to sorrowful, stepping towards you, your fear shot up and Derek growled at Scott. "Man, calm down I'm not going to hurt her!" Derek growled again, your fist twisting in the back of Derek's shirt tighter as Scott raised his voice. "Don't tell me, tell her," Derek spoke softly, the pack now focusing on your demeanor and how it's changed. You're standing behind Derek, taking protection in his large frame, hand twisted in his shirt keeping him close to you, eyes puffy from crying, fear coming off of you. Scott and the pack take a step back.

"I didn't mean to scare you," Scott says softly, "I-I just." You stopped him, still hiding behind Derek, "It's not your fault, I didn't just hide my scent because I'm a wolf, I'm a soft wolf, I don't like this yelling and fighting" you took another deep breath, trying to calm yourself. You shook your head as you spoke, "This violence. It's hard for me." Scott studied you, wondering how much all of this troubled you and you never said anything.

"I knew that you would be hurt, but I am scared, you don't know my story, or where I came from. I'm scared, I'm not-" you huffed, wiping a tear away, "I'm scared. I'm not bad." Everyone softened, Stiles approaching you, Derek seeming to allow that as Stiles pulled you down the stairs, Derek following right next to you, and sat you at the table.

Derek stood behind you, hand placed lovingly on your back, but you could smell him radiating anger, feel it. Had you already accepted him as your mate?

Malia was first to speak, as she sat down, "So what are you?" You laughed, "I'm a born wolf, last of my line." Malia flinched, curiosity and sympathy coming off of her. "You're the last of the Sun Crest Pack," you heard Peter breathlessly from the doorway. Every person in the room turned to face him, Malia the only one without claws out, Kira even has her hand on her sword, ready to attack. Derek and Scott have moved in front, now growling at Peter.

"How did you even know to come?" Derek snarled, claws out. "Your commotion was heard around the state, I was worried, and then, oh man," Peter breathed, flinging his arms pointed at you. "I smelled her, and that- that's not a smell you forget." Derek growled, jumping at Peter a little. Peter stood defensively, now with his claws out, eliciting half the pack to cautiously move towards Peter. The other half to you for protection. Your essence dripped with anxiety and terror, every person in the room aware of it, none more than Derek. Everyone in the room connected to you enough to stand between you and whatever Peter had planned.

Stiles is beside you, holding you as you struggle to think. His right arm gently wrapped around you, left hand petting your hair. He knew that you didn't like any of this, this true anger. He knew how easy it was for violence to panic you, you were his best friend as much as Scott was. "Make them stop," you whispered, Stiles barely hearing you, petting your head, but Derek was focused on you as much as he was Peter. Knowing every stroke of Stiles hand, every tiny tremble your body had, every hard breath in, every heartbeat.

And sweet, sweet, Derek didn't miss a syllable.

Word count: 1498