Same Old Song and Dance(Sterek)

Contract

Allison splayed open the large metal teeth of the coyote trap she was setting up. Careful not to trip it herself, she covered it in the underbrush of the woods.

"How many did you say there were?" Stiles asked as he stood guard. Setting traps in the woods alone wasn't smart so they always did it in pairs.

"Seven. Plus the alpha," She answered, standing. She was due to take out a pack of out of control wolves that were passing through. She had one night to get them otherwise she would lose her window and the contract would be passed on.

"Who else have you brought in?" Stiles hated when Allison took contracts. It was different than an assignment. A contract was usually given to the council by someone outside of the hunting community. Someone who knew about the werewolves and wanted a pack taken care of. Contracts were paid, very specifically to the one who killed the pack. If the hunter was unable to take out the pack within a very limited time frame, it was brought to another hunter.

"No one, I'm not even supposed to bring you in, but I know I can't take out all of them. I'll split the contract reward with you," The huntress knelt to set the next trap.

"I don't want the money, I wanted you to turn down the contract," Stiles snapped. Contracts were messy and the wolves were dangerous, reckless. They had no patterns. They never stopped moving, making them impossible to track.

"I wanted you to turn down the Hale pack assignment," Allison snapped back.

Stiles clenched his jaw, "You know I couldn't do that."

"You could have," Allison stood again, turning to face her best friend. "but you didn't. Come on, that was the last one."

"What time are we planning to be here?" Stiles was worried that her plan wouldn't go the way she was hoping.

"Seven, the sun will be setting then."

Stiles nodded but didn't argue despite the fact that he wanted to.

-

The evening air was cooler than Stiles had expected. He was thankful for the extra layer he'd worn, but it still wasn't enough. A shiver wound down his spine, but he wasn't sure if it was from the anticipation of the hunt or the cool breeze. He guessed it was a little of column A and a little of column B.

Allison would be there soon and then there was no going back.

"What are you doing out here?" A voice growled, causing Stiles to yank a blade from his thigh just as Derek emerged from the woods on his left.

Stiles' jaw clenched. He hadn't expected to run into Derek tonight.

"There's a pack of wolves that you can't hope to take down alone. You need to leave," Derek demanded.

"This may come as a shock to you, but I'm not here for you. Not tonight," Stiles wanted to attack, wanted to rip this asshole apart, but that wasn't part of the plan. He couldn't risk this contract falling through. This pack was malicious and needed to be dealt with. Derek wasn't going anywhere.

"These wolves aren't like my pack, they will kill you," Derek insisted, taking another step forward.

"Let them try," Stiles sneered, his hand gripping his blade tighter.

"You're still hurt," Derek said then, his tone softer now.

Stiles narrowed his eyes. It had only been a few days since his last encounter with Derek.

"I can smell it on you. The pain. And the doubt. You don't want to be here. So why are you?" Derek pressed.

Stiles didn't respond.

"The girl," Derek guessed then. "This is her hunt."

As if on cue, a car pulled up next to Stiles' behind him.

"You need to leave," Derek spoke again.

"Why do you care?" Stiles frowned. Why would Derek care if he ended up dead or not?

"I told you, I'm not the monster you think me to be."

Before Stiles could respond, Derek was gone.

"Hey, ready?" Allison asked walking up to Stiles then. She clearly hadn't seen Derek.

He only nodded.

"Remember stay close, they'll try and separate us," Allison spoke quietly as they started into the woods.

Stiles wondered just how bad this pack was for Derek to warn him. He also wondered why Derek had warned him. If Stiles was killed, then the hunter trying to take off his head would no longer be a threat. Isn't that what Derek wanted? Unless Derek didn't see Stiles as a threat. The thought of that made Stiles angry. He wanted Derek to quake at the mention of his name. He wanted to see fear in those pale green eyes as he took the life from them.

A snap pulled Stiles from his thoughts. He wasn't focused. That would get him killed. Maybe that was Derek's game, distract him before a dangerous hunt. There he went again.

"They've got us surrounded," Allison spoke worriedly.

"I don't suppose you've got backup on standby, do you?" Stiles asked, his blades clasped tightly in his hands.

"No."

"Alright," Stiles nodded, "Let's take them out."

Allison aimed her bow and shot. A loud yelp let them know she didn't miss. However, that made the wolves attack. Seven of them came out of the shadows. Claws and teeth extended.

Stiles was careful to dodge as many claws as he could. This pack wasn't smart. They were erratic and didn't think their attacks through. Stiles had studied the way werewolves attacked. Very few of them attacked like a human would. Most of them attacked with their animal instincts. He was able to guess their attacks and counter them, however there were too many.

"Allison, the alpha," Stiles pointed to where the wolf was retreating. She stabbed an arrow through the eye of an attacking beta and bolted after him.

"Allison," Stiles yelled after her, but it was too late. He wanted to follow, to keep her in his sights but the remaining three betas surrounded Stiles.

He countered an attack, which only landed him face to face with another one. The wolf grabbed his throat with a clawed hand and squeezed.

Stiles swung, landing a blade into the side of the wolf's neck. It forced Stiles to be released. He instantly kicked out towards another wolf, but his leg was caught, and he was thrown back into a nearby tree.

The air was pushed from his lungs. He gasped to refill them. His vision wavered slightly and the pain in his back let him know he had broken several ribs. His arm was bleeding from where his stitches had ripped open. The wound, only two days old, hadn't had time to fully heal.

He fought to keep his vision from darkening but the trickle of liquid he felt on his temple told him his head was bleeding.

He swung out weakly as someone approached him, but his wrist was easily caught. This was it. This is how he was going to die. There was no way he was getting out of there alive. He only prayed Allison did.

*AN*
Hope you like it!😊