Payment (revised)

Chapter 12

Sorry for the delay we are trying to go back to our normal WEDNESDAY posting schedule but don't be surprised if it takes a while sorry
Also SMUT WARNING THERE IS SMUT BETWEEN DEREK AND STILES IT HAPPENS

edited: 5/13/20

edited: 6/24/23

Stiles trudged up the stairs, climbing as if to the gallows. He didn't think he was far off from reality.

The boy rang his hands raw while imagining the number of horrific ways Derek could inflict punishment. Stiles was a prisoner. Though he had infiltrated into pack life seamlessly, he couldn't forget the truth that lay beneath the elegant lies.

The Alpha's words from only minutes ago still bounced around in Stiles's head.

A hopeful outcome did not seem to be in the boy's future.

The only thing Stiles was certain of was that he didn't know anything at all. Best case scenario, Derek chastised him. Worst scenario...well he didn't really want to think too hard on that.
If there was any way to stomp out Stiles's feelings for the Alpha, killing him was a sure way to do it.

Too quickly for his liking, Stiles reached Derek's office.

The wooden door that the boy had always thought of as regal, now seemed to foreshadow his doom.

Stiles snorted, even with fear clouding his judgment, he realized that was a bit dramatic.

Maybe you can reason with him, Stiles thought to himself, pondering the best way to get out of the situation.

If he could tell his side of the story before Derek had the chance to confront him, he stood a chance of survival.

Stiles drew in a breath, trying to denounce the unease thrumming through his veins. He was capable of handling this meeting without it going off the deep end. There was hope. Even if it seemed very, very dim.

Before Stiles could work himself up any further, he pushed open the door. He barely stepped inside when a loud crash made him startle.

Immediately, Stiles curled in on himself. One arm wrapped around his middle while the other covered his head; he prayed he didn't have a knife sticking out of his sternum.

When no rush of pain assaulted his body, Stiles chanced a glance around him.

The boy wouldn't deny he expected to find overturned furniture, and claw like marks ruining the wallpaper.

Instead, almost everything was in order.

Almost.

Stiles met Derek's shock with his own. Puzzled, the boy followed the Alpha's line of sight and saw it. Shattered on the ground not a foot away from him were the remains of a glass vase.

Stiles turned again to Derek, something painful churning in his gut.

"That could have hit me," Stiles gulped, stepping backwards until he made contact with the door that seemed to have closed on its own.

"You were trying to hit me."

Derek's spine visibly straightened, and he crossed his arms.

"No, I wasn't, and you don't get to turn this around on me. Especially not after what you tried to do."

"What- What did I try to do?" Stiles asked in disbelief, "Save my friend?"

Because that was exactly what this was all about, wasn't it.

"You're mad because I succeeded in what you couldn't. Isaac's safe now! But instead of focusing on that, you fling a glass object at my head. You don't get to tell me that I'm not allowed to be angry, or-"