Savage:A Derek Hale/Teen Wolf fanfic

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

"Stiles! Chill! What the hell is going on!?" I yelled into the phone, trying to understand what he was saying.

"Osiris, there was a murder at the video store. Jackson and Lydia are here. The owner was the one killed. I need you to
get your ass here so we can see what the hell is going on." He commanded.

"Jeez. Fine. I'll be there." I spat, hanging up.

I grabbed my brown leather jacket from the top of my chair, throwing it over the white tank top I was wearing. I thundered down the stairs, snatching my keys from the bowl in the coffee table, and rushed out to my car. Within five minutes, I was pulling up to the video store, which was surrounded by spectators being fended off by a few deputies.

Yellow 'caution' tape surrounded the scene, and blue and red lights flashed, capturing the attention of people about a mile away.

"Osiris!" I heard to my side.

Stiles was waving me over, and I tried to push past the police men but they wouldn't let me. He finally talked to one of the officers, and they parted way, only allowing me to pass through.

"What's this?" I asked him, as he dragged me towards the ambulance.

"Just listen in." He hushed.

Jackson was talking to Sheriff Stilinski, looking pretty aggravated. He seemed like he was about to explode, with a shaking Lydia sitting inside the ambulance behind him.

"What part of 'I'm fine' are you having a problem grasping? Okay, I wanna go home." He snapped, running a hand through his hair.

Mr. Stilinski nodded, keeping calm. "And I understand that―"

"No, you don't understand, which kind of blows my mind, since it should be a pretty basic concept to grasp for a minimum wage rent-a-cop like you! Okay, now, I wanna go home!" He yelled, making everyone turn his way and gape.

My blood was boiling at this point. Who did this jackass think he was!? Mr. Stilinski was a good man, who cared for the town he loved, no matter the cost, and here comes this brat, thinking he could look down on him like that!?

"Oh, whoa, is that a dead body?" Stiles snapped me out of my thoughts with his gasp.

The sheriff turned around, shooting us a glare, before looking around at everyone. "Everybody back up. Back up."
I looked around at the scene, while sitting on the hood of the police cruiser. One of the windows was broken, pieces of glass thrown all over the sidewalk.

Inside, the shelves were toppled over and DVDs were strewn all over the floor. A bloodstain could be seen between a few of the shelves, probably where the murder had occurred. Crime scene investigators were bustling about in the premises, trying to find every clue to that would lead to the culprit. My sight landed on two figures on top of the roof, which were examining the place with measuring eyes, yet trying to remain hidden from everyone else.

Scott and Derek.

I shot them a glare, hoping they caught on the fact that they needed to leave. They exchanged a few words before turning around and taking off. I jumped off the car and ran back to my own, leaving Stiles to deal with his father. I took off towards the Hale house, catching up with them half way.

"Need a ride?" I smirked, putting my window down.

Scott jumped right in, while Derek hesitated before climbing inside. They were quiet the whole way to the house, tension thick and very present between them. I pulled up beside the Camaro, climbing out and following Derek inside his house.

"You know, I have a life, too." Scott pointed out the second we walked into the foyer.

Derek stopped at the stairs, turning around. "No, you don't."

"Yes I do! I don't care what you say about him making me his pet or..." Scott trailed off.

"Part of his pack." Derek snapped.

Scott rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I have homework to do. I have to go to a parent/teacher conference tomorrow because I'm failing chemistry."

"You wanna do homework? Or do you wanna not die?" Derek offered. "You have less than a week until the full moon. You don't kill with him, he kills you."

"Okay, seriously? Who made up these rules?" I asked, leaning against the wall and crossing my arms.

Derek glared at me, before continuing. "It's a rite of passage into his pack."

Scott shook his head. "You know what else is a rite of passage? Graduating from high school. And you don't have to kill anyone to do it! Why can't you just find him yourself? Why can't you just sniff him out when he's a human?"

"Because his human scent could be entirely different. It has to be you. You have a connection with him, a link that you can't understand. If I can teach you to control your abilities, you can find him." Derek explained.

Stiles sighed, turning his head before speaking. "So if I help you, you can stop him?"

"Not alone." Derek stated. "We're stronger in numbers. A pack makes the individual more powerful."

"How am I supposed to help if I have no idea what I'm doing?" Scott snapped.

"Because I'm going to teach you." Derek began. "Do you remember what happened that first night you were shot in the arm? Right after you were hit?"

"Yeah, I changed back." Scott replied.

Derek nodded. "Mmm-hmm. And when you were hit by his car, same thing, right? What's the common denominator?"

At this point, he was right in front of Scott. Suddenly, he grabbed Scott's wrist and gave it a painful twist, making the bone crack loudly. Scott fell to his knees, the pain overwhelming him, making him scream in agony.

"What is...? What the hell are you doing!?" I yelled, rushing to Scott's side.

Derek pushed me back slightly with his other arm, shaking his head. "It'll heal."

Scott glared at him, while I examined his hand. "It still hurt!"

"And that's what keeps you human. Pain." Derek pointed out.

Scott stood up slowly, wiggling his fingers. I heard little pops from the bones trying to heal themselves, and after a few seconds, the hand looked good as new.

Derek looked at me, gesturing to Scott. "Maybe he will survive."

I glared at his back as he climbed up the stairs, leaving us to leave when we wished. Scott was still breathing heavily,
tweaking with his hand. I grabbed his arm and dragged him out to the Impala, throwing him in the passenger seat, before walking around and sitting in the driver's side. I drove home, still seething over what Derek had done.
He was a stupid, cold hearted werewolf, no matter what had happened a few days ago. I actually had though he had changed for the better, but there was no way that egotistical jerk-off was ever gonna be anything but rough and mean.

When he broke Scott's wrist, there was no sign of emotion on his face, and it sickened me that he could hurt someone without giving it a second thought. And I didn't blame this on him being a werewolf, because Scott didn't act like that at all.

It was just him being closed off from the rest of the world for God knows what reason, and trying to survive by using others. It was getting to a point where it was plain ridiculous, and got my blood boiling at maximum rate.
The second we got home, we both headed off to our rooms. I was done for the day, and the second my head hit the pillow, I was out like a light.