Heartbeat // A Derek Hale Love Story (Teen Wolf)

Murderer

Derek's POV

Everything had gone from amazing after I was released, to absolute shit when I came out of the station to find Lillian with that idiot Stiles. The fear and confusion immediately made my heart drop to my stomach. I couldn't stop myself from lunging at Stiles the moment he called me a murderer.

I had not killed her grandfather; I didn't even know he'd been killed by the Alpha until moments before.

Before I knew it, Lillian was staring me dead in the eyes and asking "You've never killed a single person?"

The sound of Paige's spine snapping speared into my ears, and I knew I couldn't say no. I'd killed her. Out of mercy, but I'd still done it. It was my fault. It was all my fault, from the beginning, right up to where Lillian's bared her teeth and snarled, "Stay the hell away from me."

The raw command in her voice made me balk. I'd never heard her speak like that. Not even to her dog. There was something in that voice that overrode my desire to go to her, to explain what happened without Stiles there.

I couldn't move. I physically could not move from where I stood. Not even as she turned away to get into her truck, Stiles following.

It wasn't the kind of "I can't move" like when you're paralyzed with fear or shock. I literally could not move my feet toward her. I could feel my muscles straining as I tried to run after her, as I watched her drive away.

"What's happening—" I breathed, flexing my hands to make sure they still worked. I tried moving forward again, and suddenly I was released from whatever entrapment I'd been in and my foot hit the pavement ahead of me. "What the hell?"

Something had just happened, but I had no idea what. Against the panic that Lillian had just told me to "Stay the hell away from her" with a ferocity I'd never seen, I knew I had to figure out what she had just done and how she'd done it.

*

Lillian's POV

"I can't believe this," I whispered, pulling over a little while away from the police station. I was in no state to drive.

Stiles stared at me from the passenger's seat. "I'm sorry, Lil."

At the sound of the nickname Derek usually used on me, a single tear dropped from my eye and my head fell into my hands.

Murderer. Murderer, murderer, murderer. I thought maybe I was going to throw up as I gripped the steering wheel. This couldn't be real. I was going to wake up any moment. Derek would explain. Everything would be fine.

But it wouldn't. Everything was not going to be fine. I didn't want the real Derek anywhere near me. The one who killed my grandfather and then dated me only to get close and finish whatever twisted job he thought he had.

I had known Stiles for years, and he had never once lied to me, and all Derek had ever done was lie.

I wiped my eyes as Stiles cleared his throat. "Do you want to come to my lacrosse game? I have to be there in like, ten minutes. It might be a good distraction for you."

I glanced over at him through shiny eyes. "Okay. You're driving."

Once we'd switched and I was seated as comfortably as possible with a broken, bleeding heart, Stiles started the truck and we were on our way.

"Oh, just one quick thing," Stiles added as we neared his school, the backfield lit up with floodlights for the game. "Scott is having some anger issues and might shift during the game."

"Are you serious," I groaned, glaring over at him.

"Yeah..." Stiles winced as he pulled into the lot and parked. "It's not ideal, but I thought you should know."

I slammed the truck door after I got out, before I hissed under my breath, "Fuckin' A."

*

The lacrosse game was barely enough to keep my mind off what had happened with Derek. I could tell it would take a while to rewire my brain to not text him, not call him, not think of hanging out with him ever again.

Whistles were blasted which occasionally snapped me out of my bubble, but I wasn't sure that the game the best place for me. Everyone was up on their feet every time something happened and I could barely be bothered to stand. I was exhausted.

Even when Scott caught the ball and made an amazing breakaway into a gorgeous goal, I barely mustered the strength to leap up and clap like everyone else did. I didn't even go sit with Melissa or Sheriff Stilinski. I sat in the top corner of the bleachers to avoid them all. Near the end of the game, I realized how badly I didn't want to be there at all.

I stood up as the crowd cheered, and skipped steps as I descended the metal bleacher stairs. Stiles sat on the bench a little way away, his dad behind him. I tapped Stiles on the shoulder, feeling the hard plastic shoulder pad. He jumped, turning immediately.

"Lillian! God! Hey," he gasped. "What's up?"

"I don't think I should have come, I'm going home," I murmured, glancing out onto the field writhing with aggressive players. Stiles frowned at what I said as I asked: "Is Scott okay?"

"Seems alright. Drive safe, okay?" Stiles' brown eyes met mine, and I nodded, turning away. I couldn't be there. I needed to go home and sleep. Maybe things would feel better in the morning.

As I trudged through the dewy grass, rage exploded through the air that I knew wasn't mine. I spun around. What was that?

The breath of the lacrosse players was curling in the air like smoke. Number 11, Scott, sprinted across the field with the ball in the net of his stick, but there was this wild rage pulsing off him, thick in the air. Was I imagining it? Or was it really coming from Scott?

The only time I'd ever felt anything comparable it was when I was around Ophelia when she was upset. But she and I were close enough that it didn't seem strange that I could tell how she was feeling. Scott and I were friends, but not that close.

He was also fifty feet away from me.

I shook my head as Scott continued the play, dismissing what I felt. Tonight had been a weird, terrible night. I just needed to sleep it off. If anything was any better in the morning.

*

Things were not.

A/N: Happy New Year everyone! Does anyone have any guesses about what happened with Derek? I'm curious to see what you think!

Cheers,

- TAAF_