TRAITOR 

"what the holy hell is happening?"

The rain hammered against the windshield as Stiles pushed his foot further down on the accelerator, his heart pounding almost as fast as the wheels spun on the wet pavement. He knew the risk, the jeopardy of getting caught red-handed, speeding in the downpour. His dad, Noah, wouldnt hesitate to confiscate his beloved jeep if he ever caught wind of this recklessness.

But right now, Stiles couldnt bring himself to care. His mind was fixated on the image of Derek, the newfound joy of reuniting with his long-lost sister, Cora, and the crucial safety of their recently discovered betas; Erica and Boyd. They searched for weeks for them, and now they have them just in their grasp. It was a jumble of emotions that had Stiles pulse racing more than his speedometer.

Ever since they - Stiles and Derek - found each other in a wayward intersection of fate, Stiles and Derek had been inseparable. Yes, in the beginning they didnt trust one another, and they bickered like all the time, but now their bond is growing stronger by the day. They have officially been together for a year since Stiles turned eighteen, a fact that never failed to being a grin to the boys face whenever he acknowledged it.

The betas, striving for a semblance of normalcy, had chosen to attend the nearby community college, a decision made out of an instinctive need to stick close to each other. They were a pack, forged by challenges and bonded by shared trails, each one finding solace in the collective strength they formed together.

The revelation that Lydia, their beacon of intelligence and reason, had also chosen to remain nearby was a pleasant surprise, a testament to the unspoken understanding that being together was their safest haven. They were more than just friends; they were a family, a pack that has found comfort and strength in their shared unity.

As Stiles rushed down the rain-soaked road, he knew the risk he took, but his priorities were clear. Nothing could deter him from ensuring the safety and well-being of those he considered his pack, his family. And if it meant facing the wrath of his father later, it was a price he was willing to pay.

***

Stiles burst into action the moment his feet touched the soaked ground, regardless of the rain still pounding down around him. Each step felt like an eternity as he sprinted towards the school, his heart pounding in rhythm with his hurried breaths.

Following Scott, his closest friend and brother-in-spirit, Stiles descended into the depths of the building, his pace never faltering. The sight that greeted them in the boiler room was nothing short of chilling scene - Boyd, Erica, and even Cora lay unconscious on the concrete floor with blood all around them. Stiles knows theyre still alive by Scotts face and posture. Their still forms a stark contrast to the otherwise bustling energy of the high school. Its a good thing no one ever comes down here and its always good that Chris Argent is doing damage duty upstairs if need be.

But relief washed over Stiles when his gaze landed on Derek. Alive. Okay. There are visible wounds, deep cuts that spoke of the recent battle, yet the healing process had already began. Stiles felt a surge of relief and concern mingling within him, glad to see Derek alive yet troubled by the sight of his injuries.

However, his relief was quickly overshadowed by a confusing and concerning scene unfolding before his eyes. Derek was assisting Miss Blake, their English Professor, with a gentleness and care that Stiles had only seen him reserve for well himself. It was a rare, tender look - one that Derek typically reserved for stiles.

Questions swirled in Stiles mind, mirroring the whirlwind of emotions within him. Why was their English Professor in the high schools boiler room? More pressing was the question gnawing at Stiles: why was Derek treating Miss. Blake with such uncharacteristic tenderness, the kind he usually reserved for Stiles and Stiles alone?

Confusion and a twinge of something resembling jealousy knotted Stiles stomach. He couldnt help but wonder what this unexpected connection between Derek and Miss. Blake meant, and whether there was more to this peculiar scenario than met the eye.

Next to him in the dimly lit boiler room, Scotts concern etched across his face like a worried frown, a mirror to the puzzlement on Stiles features. Stiles could practically feel the unspoken anxiety wafting from his best friend as they exchanged a glance filled with shared confusion.

Dereks peculiar behavior stuck a conflicting note within the usual rhythm of their interactions. Stiles and Derek had always shared an unspoken closeness, their connection palpable whenever they were in the same room. The alphas attention toward stiles, and vice versa, had been a natural undercurrent, an almost constant presence that defined their dynamics as a pack.

But today, something was out of order. Derek seemed oblivious to Stiles presence, entirely engrossed in tending to Miss. Blake. It was an irregularity, a visible difference from their norm, leaving both Stiles and Scott stunned.

Scotts loyalty to Stiles shone through his worried expression, amplified by the determination in his eyes. The protective instinct within Scott flared as he witnessed Dereks unusual behavior.

In that moment, Scott silently swore to himself, his jaw clenched with determination, that If Derek caused so much as a hint of distress or heartache to Stiles, he would intervene. Scott, fiercely protective of his best friend, was ready to stand up to the alpha, ready to teach him a lesson in loyalty and respect should he veer toward causing emotional harm to Stiles.

In the tense atmosphere of the boiler room, Dereks words cut through the air like a cold blade, chilling Stiles to the core. "I've got to get the betas out of here and Im going to take Miss. Blake here home. Don't wait up for me." The alphas indifferent tone, devoid of the usual affection and concern for Stiles, struck a note that resonated within the room. It was as if the connection between them had been severed, leaving Stiles feeling like a mere bystander rather than the love of Dereks life.

As Derek spoke, the sudden entrance of Jackson, Lydia, Isaac, Peter, and Chris brought a surge of activity, their shared goals clear: to tend to the unconscious betas and assist the English Professor out of the dire situation.

"The school is all cleared out," Chris's assurance that the area was cleared offered a semblance of relief, however temporary.

But the tension in the room only intensified as Lydia, always an observant one, demanded answers. "What the holy hell is happening?" While positioning herself protectively beside Stiles and Scott. Her unrelenting gaze fixed on Derek and Miss. Blake, demanding an explanation for the situation unfolding before them.

Stiles felt a whirlwind of emotions, confusion and disbelief swirling within him. His mind raced, grappling with the abrupt shift in dynamics among their pack, especially concerning Dereks exotic behavior. The gravity of the situation weighed heavy on Stiles, leaving him grappling for a semblance of understanding in the chaos.

Scotts voice pierced through the commotion, offering a lifeline in the overwhelming confusion. His suggestion to drive them back home brought Stiles a momentary reprieve, a sense of direction among the havoc. Numbly, Stiles agreed, handing the keys to his cherished jeep to Scott before exiting the building and slumping into the passenger seat.

The world outside felt surreal as Scott drove, the rain still pouring down around them. Stiles sat in silence, thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind, feeling as though he were merely going through the motions. The gravity of the situation hung heavy, leaving Stiles adrift in a sea of unanswered questions and an unsettling sense of disconnection within the pack.

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