Chapter Text
It was painful, sure, but Stiles was used to pain. You had to be when you were cut up by some random supernatural creature every other week.
Unfortunately, there was something different about this wound. He knew for certain he'd die from it, and soon.
Stilels had been out, looking for ambrosia in the forest and he admits he should have been more careful. Derek had told him earlier in the week that there was a group of hunters nearby, but he didn't see the harm of a human going out. He wasn't a wolf. He should have been safe.
As he walked plucked a plant from the undergrowth he heard a crash into the clearing the was shaded by the large canopy of trees that you could see the gray, encroaching clouds in the sky. He didn't turn around. Figuring that it was one of the pack members. He was wrong.
"He's human. We should leave."
That got Stiles to turn around. There were two men, one huge and burly, the one who spoke. The other was thin and sickly, his hair so greasy Stiles cringed.
"No, he smells like wolf. He's a sympathizer, which is worse. Imagine, he has a pack," The thin guy said and Stiles hands shot up.
"Woah dude! This isn't the Salem Witch Trials, no need for execution without out a jury. I mean, not only is tha unfair, but I don't really thin you want innocent blood on yo-" Stiles was abrubtly cut off but a harsh kick in his stomach and he flew back, bouncing like rubber on the trunk of a tree. "Jeez," he breathed, unable to stop in his frenzy and panicked state.
"Shut up! Just...do it." The thin guy seemed so tired.
The fat guy nodded. "Dude you don't want to do this, Im the Sheriff's son, he's a good cop, he'll find you gu-," Again, he stopped, but not because of a hit in his soft belly, no, now he was stopped as the arm punched out of his lungs at the sudden pain and the arrow that jutted out of his stomach. He clutched around it. "I'm fine, I'm okay, I just, I just need to pull thos out. I'll be okay'" He muttered to himself as something distracted the hunters and they fled. He yanked, and yanked, stupidly, as he writhed in pain and more blood pooled through his red hoodie. Finally hs pulled it free but he realized his mistake.
The blood fliw was heavy now. He felt life seeping out of him and onto the forest. He tried to get up, tried to get someone to help him, but he failed.
Stiles fell to the ground. He knew it. He would die from this.
He did the last thing he could think of. He pulled out his phone, flopped on the soft vines on the ground, and called him.
Derek.
"Stiles, I'm busy, what do you want?"
Normally Stiles would be hurt, but he had to make the most of out this.
"Oh I'm fine, just stressing over finals and slaving over homework. Thanks for asking Der." He had to fight tokeep the wheez out of his voice.
"Stiles,"Derek growled out.
"Fine Sourwolf, O just wanted to talk about the pack. Scott's been a little off lately." Lie. Scott's been fine since he and Allison hookes up, but Stiles needed to keep Derek on the phone.
"Really? He seems fine. Although, I have been training him harder than before," Derek stressed, his voice carrying his concern through the phone. That was the one thing he loved most about Derek Hale, he cared for his pack, no matter the amount of grumpy eyebrows and disapproving gazes.
"Well, I'm sure it's that. Did I tell you about what I learned about that geoup of hunters in town?"
Stiles a d Derek continued to talk, Stiles fighting through the pain, knowing the arrow was laced with wolfsbane, so even if he told Derek where he was, and he bit him, he'd just die in agony.
They talked for fifteen minutes before he didn't hear Derek's voice and before the last shred of life left his body, he wished he could still hear Derek. His Sourwolf. His Alpha. His Derek.
He felt guilty. Guilty that he would be leaving Derek, just like everyone else. He wished he didn't have to.
He passed with the guilt that he lef tDerek all alone. Again.