Archive of Our Own

The Men of Letters Bunker was blissfully quiet and peaceful; for now at least. The place had once been a hub for hunters and men of letters alike; constantly buzzing with activity and always having what seemed to be a never ending arrival and departure of men and women from all over the country. Now though, only two men, and occasionally one Angel, called it home.

Sam Winchester, the youngest of the two brothers, sighs, before turning the page in the book he was reading. He was enjoying the peace and quiet, and wanted to use the time to his advantage. After all, the hunters phones weren't ringing, the computers weren't even switched on, and the Winchester brothers had the entire building to themselves. Sam was using the opportunity to research old bible lore. Sadly, it didn’t look the Mark of Cain was going anywhere from his brothers arm any time soon, and he wanted to know every single thing about the strange mark that stained his brothers skin. The youngest Winchester had noticed small changes in Dean, but even those were enough to cause concern. He was hot tempered, more so than usual, and extremely argumentative. The two hunters couldn’t seem to have even one small conversation without it ending in a loud altercation. Sam wanted his brother back, and so, he needed to know more about the mark.

Hearing a noise, Sam Winchester looks up from his research, and sees his elder brother Dean sweep into the Bunkers main room and library with a determined expression on his face. The Hunter slams down a large duffel bag onto one of the two Bunker tables, before pulling out a dark and worn coat, and beginning to shrug it on. The youngest Winchester frowns in confusion for a few moments, wondering about Dean’s sudden activity, before he suddenly remembers. A few days ago Dean had received a call from an old friend, and fellow hunter, Garth. Or at least, an ex-hunter. Now the man was a married werewolf, and spent his time helping and working with other bitten werewolves. Unlike other supernatural creatures, werewolves were only ‘supernatural’ part of the time. They could blend into society, and Garth was determined that they did. He wanted to help them with anger management, controlling their abilities, and curving their bloody appetite. For a fleeting moment, Sam had wondered whether he should send Dean to Garth for a few days …

As it was though, Dean was still a hunter, and living in the Bunker. Whilst speaking to Dean on the phone, Garth had mentioned something about a potential hunt, and Sam apparently didn’t need to be there, or even get a say in whether or not they were going to handle it. Or more like, whether Dean was going to handle it.

“I don’t see why I can’t come …” Sam says quietly from his seat at the table, managing to not sound as angry as he was feeling.

He and Dean had had many conversations in the past about sticking together, not keeping secrets from each other, and not leaving each other to hunt alone. Apparently, this didn’t count for when Dean wanted to hunt alone. 

Garth had heard of a dangerous rogue werewolf running around in a wood out West, and Dean hadn’t even let the man finish explaining the entire situation before he had agreed to take care of it. Sam hadn’t gotten a say in whether they accepted the case or not, and had only managed to get Dean to promise that he wouldn’t go alone. The eldest Winchester had claimed that he didn’t need help, but Sam had tactfully explained that Castiel wouldn’t technically be there to help with the hunt, but the Angel had always wanted to be a hunter. Now could be his chance to learn some new tricks of the trade. Both Winchesters were glancing around the room occasionally, and keeping an ear open for the sound of ruffling wings. The Angel Castiel was likely to be appearing any time now, and they hated to be startled by his sudden arrival. Sam wonders if Cas sometimes did it on purpose …

As Dean pulls on his coat, Sam catches a glimpse of the angry red scar on the inside of his arm. It didn’t appear to be anything other than a strange burn mark, but Sam knew better. Even if his brother didn’t say anything, Sam knew the Mark of Cain was affecting Dean, in more ways than just marring his skin.

Dean sighs, obviously exasperated that his little brother hadn’t just let the issue go yet. “Sammy, me and Cas can take care of this, and quickly. You don’t need to come.”

Sam moves to retort, before thinking better of it, instead he just sighs, and looks back down at his research. Arguing with his brother before he was heading for a hunt was a bad idea. Sam didn’t doubt his brothers hunting abilities, and was all but positive he would come home, but he still didn’t want his potentially last conversation with Dean to be an argument. However Dean was making that very difficult.

“It’s one werewolf Sammy." Dean continues, "Don’t worry about it. I can take care of it, no problem.”

Sam bites the inside of his mouth, suppressing his annoyance, but can’t help but grumble “Yeah, I’m sure you can” under his breath, as Dean begins to pull out and meticulously check all his weapons.

Dean unloads a small pistol, before looking over towards his little brother with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sam closes the book he had been reading, and pushes his research away from himself, before looking over to Dean. He really didn’t want to argue, but sometimes his brother was an idiot.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that this doesn’t have anything to do with The Mark?”

“Define ‘this’” Dean retorts, before loading his pistol.

Sam grits his teeth together, before shifting forward in his chair. “Dean, you can barely hold a conversation for a minute without getting pissed. We've have been hunting more in the past couple of months than we have, like, ever. You’re angry, and I think the mark might be … changing you.”

Both men look at each other in silence for a few seconds, before Dean sighs, breaking the eye contact.

“I need to do this Sam.” Dean replies simply, before reaching for the next gun he needed to check.

“It’s telling you to kill isn’t it? It wants you to kill.”

Dean actually grits his teeth at that then, in an eerily similar move to his brother, and tries to concentrate on checking his guns and weapons, rather than starting another argument with his little brother.

Sam just waits with a raised eyebrow, all but daring Dean to disagree with him.

Suddenly, Dean sighs again, this time even more exasperatedly than before, and roughly puts the gun away back in his large worn duffel bag. With a growl, the Hunter turns to face his brother.

“Sam, this is a killer werewolf, a feral killer werewolf. It needs to be taken care of, and soon. We don’t have time for this -” Dean waves his hand, “chick flick crap. I can do this” The man replies, speaking very clearly, as if he were talking to a small child.

Sam however, was less than mollified.

“I agree Dean, I do” Sam replies, knowing that Garth wouldn’t have called about a rogue werewolf hunt if it wasn’t necessary. After all, he was a werewolf now himself, so he no doubt knew the dangers more than anyone. “I just don’t see why only you and Cas are taking care of it. I can come”

Dean zips up his bag, and pulls the large duffel from the table. Clearly, he was trying to end the conversation, and leave.

“Charlie needs your help researching, and Bobby said he’ll call if he needs help on a case. Someone needs to stay here and man the phones.” Dean shrugs, almost apologetically, but Sam knew he was less than sorry.

His big brother Dean, always trying to solve everything on his own, and spare his baby brother from any drama. It never worked that way, but that didn’t mean Dean hadn’t stopped trying.  

“I want to help.” Sam interrupts more sternly, before standing up just as Dean was moving away from the library tables, and towards the Bunkers exit.

Dean sighs, before turning to his brother with a small smile. “I know. Trust me Sammy, I know.”

Before Sam can continue, a light breeze sweeps over the two men, and a tell-tale sound of ruffling feathers alerts the Hunters to the presence of their old friend.

Castiel appears, wearing his very typical trench coat and tie, and despite his annoyance at his brother, Sam smiles widely at the Angel in greeting. Dean walks towards his friend, and clasps him quickly on the shoulder.

“Hey Cas.” Dean greets, as the Angel inclines his head.

“Dean. Sam.” Castiel replies, nodding to each man in turn with a small smile.

“Hey Cas.” Sam says with a smile of his own, before noticing that the Angel was looking at Dean with a questioning expression.

Clearly it wasn’t just Sam that was finding something off about the whole situation. Why was Dean so adamant that Sam stay behind? Unlike Sam however, Castiel chooses to remain silent on the subject, and instead just nods over to Dean, who was still holding his large duffel bag.

“Are you ready to leave?” The Angel asks kindly, and his polite tone makes Sam smile again.

Dean looks confused for a few seconds, before realising what his friend was offering. He shakes his head, and points a finger towards the door. “Oh Hell no, none of that zapping nonsense, I’m driving us.”

Castiel just nods his head, obviously not wanting to cause any sort of disagreement. “Ok.”

Dean nods, pleased, before turning back to face his still concerned little brother. He remains quiet, and for some reason, Sam doesn’t feel like this is just another hunt. It feels, different.

“Be careful.” Sam says quietly.

He doesn’t remember a time when he was so worried about sending Dean off on a hunt. He wasn’t alone, and Sam knows that if anything bad happened, Cas would be able to help Dean. But he wouldn’t be with Sam, and that was just as concerning for the young Winchester.

“Always am Sammy.” Dean says with a wink, before patting his brother on the shoulder, and exiting the Bunker.

Sam waits until he hears the squeak of the outside door, signalling that his brother had left the building, before turning to speak to his Angelic companion.

“Cas …” Sam sighs, turning towards the Angel before he had a chance to follow Dean.

The Angel cocks his head, and looks at his old friend sincerely. “Yes Sam?”

“Take care of him.”

Castiel nods, and quickly looks over to the exit, before turning back to Sam with a small smile.

“Of course.”

Sam smiles, and waves towards the Angel as he leaves the Bunker, before returning to the table. He had a lot of research to do.

Castiel quickly moves from the library, heading outside the Bunker, and near the awaiting Impala. Dean had already moved around to the back of the car, and his friend was quickly packing his duffel into the boot of the Impala. After succeeding in loading up his belongings, the man then slams the boot closed, before stalking around to the driver’s side, sliding in the front seat, and turning on the ignition. 

Seeing Dean waiting in the car, Castiel quickly climbs into the front seat of the Impala, pleased for once that he didn’t have to ride in the back.

Dean remains quiet as he alters some dials in the car, preparing to leave. The atmosphere was tense, and Castiel wonders whether he should try and make some polite conversation. After all, that’s what humans did.

“Where is this feral werewolf Dean?” The Angel asks casually as Dean pulls away from the Bunker, and out onto the open road.

“Garth said it was roaming around in some woods, out West.” Dean replies simply, “Near some place called Beacon Hills.”

“I spy with my little eye …”

Derek growls, and clutches the steering wheel just a little bit tighter. “No.”

Stiles sighs, before looking over to his companion with a pleading expression. “C’mon man, I’m so bored …” the young man whines childishly.

Before Derek can even attempt to form a response, Stiles had already turned back to face the front, and was rhythmically tapping his long fingers against his legs. The Alpha breathes deeply through his nose, flaring his nostrils, and tries to ignore the mix of scents that he was getting from the young teenage human next to him in the front if his Camaro.

Stiles was still tapping.

“I noticed you're bored, but I am not playing some childish game with you Stiles.” Derek replies, trying to ignore the infuriating tapping and feeling slightly tempted to put the radio back on again. He had turned it off originally about five minutes into the journey, realising very quickly that Stiles was going to sing along to every song, and badly. At this point though, he was getting desperate.

“Childish?!” Stiles exclaims, before placing a hand on his heart almost as if the words had personally wounded him “‘I spy’ takes intelligence, creativity, a keen eye …”

“That so?” Derek interrupts with a raised eyebrow, before smirking out onto the empty road. “So how can you play it then?”

Stiles actually laughs then, before frowning. “Did you just make a joke?”

Derek manages to resist the urge to roll his eyes, and instead reaches over to grab one of the two cans of coke from his cup holders. He takes a swig of his drink, but notices that Stiles was still looking at him like he had sprouted another head.

“It’s been known to happen.” Derek grumbles, and Stiles cocks his head.

“Huh. If I’d have known that leaving town would loosen you up so much, I would have come with you sooner.”

The Alpha just lets out an exasperated breath, before looking back out onto the road, and trying to see if he can spot any tell-tale signs of a roaming wolf. Everything looked pretty normal, but Derek knew that he wouldn’t really be able to learn more about this so called ‘rogue’ until he got out of the car. Which he hoped, would be very soon. He places his can back in a holder, and continues to speed along the open and empty road.

Stiles manages to keep still and quiet for about thirty more seconds, before Derek notices the tell-tale bouncing of the leg, and the pursing of the lips. The werewolf rolls his eyes.

“Seriously Stiles …”

“Hey, when you gotta go, you gotta go.” Stiles defends, very obviously shifting his legs around. It reminded Derek of a toddler. A very annoying, and immature toddler.

“You went like ten minutes ago.”

“Dude, we’ve been driving for like three hours, gimme a break.” Stiles grumbles, still bouncing his leg, before turning and looking out onto the woods on either side of the road, obviously trying to distract himself.

After a while, Derek concedes, and begins to look for a place to pull over. Stiles meanwhile, was staring at him, apparently bored already with looking outside.

“What?!” Derek snaps, thoroughly annoyed now.

Three hours in a car with Stiles Stilinski was a long three hours.

“Does, being a werewolf effect …” Stiles quickly glances downwards, and Derek once again has to grip the steering wheel to calm himself, holding on with so much force that he knew there would be marks in the black leather. Better the leather than Stiles’ neck.

So now Stiles had reached a point that he was so bored, he was wondering about Derek’s … toilet habits. He needed to stop the car, and find something to entertain his passenger for the next hour, before he ripped his throat out just to shut him up.

Stiles looks ready to say something else, but Derek quickly cuts him off with a simple “Stop.”

Stiles nods, before looking back out the window. “Yeah, ok, good call.”

“Why did he have to be you …” Derek sighs, and Stiles quickly whirls around to glare at him.

The annoyance doesn't seem to last though, as the young man sighs himself, before holding up a hand, and beginning to recite, “Scott is busy with Allison, Isaac has summer school, Lydia is on vacation …”

“Yeah I know.” Derek interrupts, suddenly feeling slightly guilty for saying anything to begin with. After all, Stiles wasn't completely useless. He was just a pain in the ass. “But my point was, you’re not a werewolf Stiles.”

Stiles smiles slightly then, although it looks more smug than pleased. “And yet you’re stuck with me, poor you.”

The Alpha rolls his eyes. Yeah, right now he was more worried about not killing Stiles than this so called rogue wolf running around.

Derek manages to pull the car over soon after, and Stiles nearly falls out the car in a heap as he quickly opens the door. He stumbles onto his feet, before turning and beginning to walk, or more like waddle, into the trees.

“Don’t go too far.” Derek grumbles, climbing out of the car to stretch his own legs.

“What?!” Stiles calls back loudly, much too loudly, turning back to look towards the road and Derek. The young man was actually bouncing.

Derek rolls his eyes, again. “There is a feral werewolf running around here, remember?”

“Yes.” Stiles snaps back, before turning and continuing his quick jog into the woods. “Stupid werewolves, with their stupid hairy faces and stupid …”

“Stiles,” Derek sighs “I can still hear you.”

Stiles winces.

Right, shit. Stupid werewolf hearing. Another thing to add the list …

He turns to nod quickly to Derek, half an apology, and half a ‘ok I’m going to ignore that happened and just go and pee’.

Derek doesn’t make any move back in response, but Stiles knows he saw him, because he was a stupid werewolf.

Werewolves were after all, how Stiles found himself in his current predicament. There was apparently an extremely dangerous one running around, and Derek needed help to stop it. Not Stiles’ help per se, but as it was, he was pretty desperate.

Just as Stiles finds a great tree to urinate on, he pauses, and stops with his hands on his fly. Werewolf hearing? Could Derek hear him pee?! Oh man, that was gross …

Stiles listens for a moment, and discovers that he can’t hear the man on the nearby road. He doesn’t want to risk any (more) awkwardness between them however, and so quickly jogs a little deeper into the woods, and further away from the road.

Finally, Stiles undoes, or more like rips open his pants, and relieves himself. He nearly sighs out loud with how good it feels, and is so distracted that he doesn’t hear the faint rustle of wings that sound behind him.

Castiel cocks his head.

The young man in front of him was human, but not completely human.

Dean had told him to scout the area, and had all but been certain that Castiel wouldn’t find anyone, let alone a lone human out in the forest.

After all, all the humans had been informed of a dangerous animal in the area, and the wooden cabins that Dean was currently using as a base and place to sleep, had long been abandoned.

But yet, here is a human, stood in the middle of the forest, alone, and carrying … wolfsbane?

After finishing his task, Stiles does up his trousers, and grimaces down at his hands.

There was nowhere to wash them, but he was sure that Derek would be able to smell something on them as soon as he got back to the car. That would just be gross, not to mention embarrassing, for everyone involved.

Stiles pauses for a moment, thinking, before he looks up at the tree, and without a second thought, begins rubbing them up and down the bark, smiling to himself. Derek wouldn’t smell pee, Derek would smell tree …

This was a strange human, the Angel thinks as he watches.

Castiel remains unseen from the young man, hiding a small distance away in the cover of the thick and tall trees, but he is almost tempted to make himself known.

The small man was methodically rubbing his hand up and down the tree in front of him, and appeared to be enjoying it greatly. Castiel had never seen the Winchesters do anything like that before.

Curious, the Angel slowly begins to walk closer, forgetting for the moment what Dean had told him about talking to strangers.

Castiel wasn’t concerned though. This person wasn't a demon, or Angel or monster of any kind. He was just intriguing, and ... different.

Satisfied, Stiles stands back from the tree, and looks down at his now slightly green hands. The moss had perfectly covered whatever smell would have been lingering, Stiles was sure. That would stop Derek’s werewolf-y senses from making the rest of the drive any more awkward than it already was.

The man turns, about to walk back to the road and Derek, when he sees a figure hidden a small distance away. Stiles frowns, and squints, trying to see more clearly. Someone was definitely there, and … watching him? Stiles couldn’t be sure, but he was sure that at this point Derek had driven them into the middle of nowhere.

It only takes his arguably stupid brain about two seconds to decide to go and investigate. After all, he was hanging out with an Alpha werewolf. Derek could fight almost anything, although he hoped it wouldn’t have to come to that. 

Stiles actually feels relieved when he reaches the figure, realising it is just a man. A somewhat, overdressed man considering he was stood in the middle of nowhere.

“Hey Buddy …” Stiles greets cautiously, steeping closer slowly like he was approaching a wild animal.  “You ok?”

“Yes.” The man replies quickly, in a deep voice.

“You sure? You’re not lost?”

The man cocks his head, and looks Stiles up and down as if he was a museum exhibit. It made the young man uncomfortable, but he was use to the weird glaring thing. After all, he had just been in a car with Derek Hale for the past three hours.

“You are not a human.”

Stiles freezes then, and cocks his own head. “Excuse me?”

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice echoes throughout the trees, and the man blanches for a moment.

Oh shit, Derek had said ‘don’t go too far’ with that little frowny face of his, and now Stiles was talking to some crazy person wearing a trench coat. He was in serious trouble …

The dude cocks his head, and Stiles almost automatically copies the gesture. It made him look, almost bird like.

“What do you mean I’m not human?” Stiles asks slowly, squinting back at the man just as much as the man was squinting at him.

“Stiles!” Derek calls again, but Stiles makes no move to answer. He didn’t want to freak out 'mystic accountant dude'.

“You have some … abilities.” The man says simply, in a very deep voice. In another situation, Stiles may have even commented on such an awesome voice, but right now, he was slightly freaked out.

Stiles takes a cautious step forward, trying to see any sort of reaction. The man just continues staring, but he doesn’t look angry or scared. He was looking at Stiles just simply like he was something he hadn’t seen before, and was interested in it.

Stiles tries to soften his expression, and look as least threatening as possible. That was pretty simple, considering Stiles was already … well, Stiles.

“Who are you?” The young man asks carefully, and the man inclines his head, almost in a friendly nod.

“My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord.”

Stiles hears the response, but it takes a minute to actually sink into his brain. He opens and closes his mouth, blinks a few times, and clears his throat … All the while, the ‘Angel’ just stands in front of him, smiling slightly as if he was amused by the response.

“An … A … Angel …” Stiles stammers, unable to say anything else.

“Yes.” The man, Castiel, respond easily, like it was totally obvious.

Stiles waits, obviously expecting a punch line, but when it doesn’t come, he laughs, somewhat manically. Werewolves he was used to, but Angels?! That was new …

“Wha … What?! Are you friggin kidding me!”

The man, or Angel, cocks his head again, and frowns slightly as if he was confused. “No. I am not kidding you.”

Stiles looks around, wondering suddenly where Derek was. The Angel was by himself,  and didn’t appear to be armed, but that didn’t mean he was automatically friendly.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asks carefully, and slowly.

Castiel’s expression changes then, into one so serious and almost threatening that Stiles actually gulps. “I have a job to do.”

“You mean like a mission, holy cause …”

“No. I am looking for a werewolf.” Castiel interrupts, before turning and looking around the small area the two men where stood in.

Stiles watches for a few seconds, noticing that the Angel was carefully looking down at leaves and twigs on the ground. Checking for footprints?

“Wait … what?”

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice sounds closer now, and Stiles knows it will only be a matter of seconds before an annoyed werewolf comes charging towards them.

Before Stiles can explain, Castiel cocks his head, and appears to listen, even though the human couldn’t hear anything himself, other than Derek. Stiles watches then as the Angel turns to him, and inclines his head.

“I have to go, my friend is calling me.”

“Wait, Castiel …”

Suddenly, with a small sound of ruffling feathers, and a light breeze, Castiel disappears. Stiles looks around, but sees no sign of the man whatsoever. Well, this was going to be interesting …

“Damn it.” Stiles sighs, and looks over into the trees, hearing Derek approach before he could actually see him.

Derek jogs over to Stiles, scowling, before grabbing the man by his collar, and pulling him back towards the man road.

“Who the Hell was that?!” Derek growls, his eyes flashing red for a moment as he scents the area.

“You saw him to! Oh thank god, I wasn’t hallucinating.” Stiles replies, clutching his chest and actually appearing relieved that a strange figure had magically appeared in front of him.

“Stiles.” Derek growls again, and this time, it is clearly a warning.

Stiles shrugs the werewolf's arm from his collar, before turning and looking back over his shoulder at the place where the man had appeared. He frowns,  “He said his name was Castiel, or something.” Stiles turns back to his companion, a small smile on his face “Derek … he said he was an Angel.” The man scoffs, before throwing his hands in the air. “Isn’t that insane?!”

Derek scents the area once again, and Stiles watches, fascinated for a few seconds as he sees Derek’s eyes grow a deep red. Suddenly the werewolf’s eyes widen, and he reaches over to his companion.

“Let’s go …”

“An Angel?! A freakin’ Angel!” Stiles exclaims, as Derek roughly pulls the man back to the waiting car.

He rolls his eyes at his companion’s excitement. ”Why is this freaking you out so much?”

"I’m not freaking out, whose freaking out?" Stiles babbles, still attempting to turn away from Derek and walk, or more likely run, back over to the place in which the ‘Angel’ had appeared, and then disappeared.

Banshee’s, Kanima’s and now Angel’s? He needed to move out of Beacon Hills.

"Your best friend is a werewolf, I’m a werewolf." Derek says pointedly, resisting his own urge to go back and investigate the strange encounter himself.

"Yeah," Stiles concedes, still smiling so widely that it almost makes Derek defensive of his own Supernatural abilities, "but Scott can’t fly!"

Derek just rolls his eyes, before shoving Stiles into the passenger seat.

Camp Chitaqua looked to have been abandoned for at least a year.

Dean knew that because of all the ‘wild animal’ attacks, and now deaths, tourists were no longer allowed to come to the area, but the Hunter still counts it as a stroke of luck to encounter all of the cabins full of supplies and a perfect place to call home for the next few days.

Castiel suddenly appears in the abandoned wooden cabin, but Dean doesn’t even flinch. He was unpacking his gear, and was so used to his friend just appearing and disappearing into and from thin air that he doesn’t even pause his activities to turn around.

“You took your sweet time …” Dean mumbles, as he was checking the guns to make sure they were all loaded with silver bullets.

“There was a human man.” Castiel answers casually, before moving over to the small table on which Dean had placed a map of the woods and surrounding area.

Dean places the gun down on his bed, and turns to face his distracted friend.

“What?”

Castiel shrugs; a very human action. “… well ‘man’ may be the wrong word. It was more likely a young adult.”

“Where?” Dean presses, frowning now.

“In the woods. He was urinating.”

Dean moves as to ask Castiel some more questions, but is immediately distracted by the Angels last statement.

“You … you watched someone urinate?”

Castiel runs his hand over the map he was staring at, beginning to read the notes that Dean had scribbled on while he had been exploring the area.

“He appeared when I was checking for tracks.”

Dean rolls his eyes. Of course Castiel wouldn’t be fazed by some random human appearing in the middle of nowhere, and peeing …

“Did you find any tracks?” The Hunter asks, moving to stand next to Castiel. He looks down at the map, and notices that his companion had made some notes of his own.

“No. The area was clear.”

Dean sighs, before reaching over and taking the pen from Castiel. He draws a small cross over the area Castiel had been sent to check, and then stands back to look at the rest of the map.

“That’s what I was worried about.”

Castiel points to some more areas on the map, a determined expression etched onto his face.

“I can scout further …”

“Where was this dude? Was he alone?” Dean interrupts, whilst hovering the pen over the map. Castiel points, and Dean draws another smaller cross.

“He had a friend with him, but he didn’t see me.”

Dean quickly raises his eyebrows, before capping the pen, and throwing in down onto the table. “Didn’t think anyone else would be out here …”

The eldest Winchester turns to finish unpacking, but Castiel distracts him. The Angel was shifting slightly on his feet, and appearing somewhat uneasy.

“Dean, I believe his friend was a werewolf.”

Dean turns slowly to his friend, a somewhat feral smile appearing on his face.

“Bingo.” The Hunter pulls out a gun from his duffel, and quickly begins loading it with silver bullets.

“He may not be the one -”

“Cas, there is no one else out here for miles, there is a warning out and everything.” Dean interrupts, before loading the gun “You’re trying to tell me a werewolf appearing here is just a coincidence?”

Castiel frowns. “His friend was carrying wolfsbane.”

Dean pulls a face, half amused, and half confused. “Maybe it’s a kinky thing?” The man jokes, before moving over to collect his coat.

“Dean …”

“We need to find out if they're still here.” Dean answers immediately, moving to the cabin door.

“They were heading this way. The werewolf was driving a large black car.”

“Ok, let’s go.” Dean holds the door open for the Angel, and Castiel frowns before walking through.

“Where are we going?”

“To the main road. We need to find out who these guys are.”

“I’ve never heard of it …” Stiles murmurs as he looks at the map and directions attached to it that Lydia had so kindly written out in her flawless handwriting.

The Banshee had informed Stiles that getting lost with Derek in the middle of nowhere was one thing, but he was absolutely not allowed to get lost by himself and die. Apparently, his friend would be slightly annoyed by that.

“The camp was closed down over a year ago. It’s abandoned.” Derek explains as he pulls the car onto a dirt road, heading towards this so called camp.

“Why are we staying here anyway? If the werewolf is around here …”

“He may be feral Stiles, but there’s a chance that he may also still be turning into a human.”

Stiles nods, before folding the map and placing it back into the glove compartment. “You think that he may be using it as a base or something? Or she …” Stiles adds as an afterthought.

Derek rolls his eyes, but agrees. “He, or she …” Stiles smiles widely “needs to have a base. A cave, abandoned lodge … just something they can go back to.”

“Why?” Stiles probes, honestly finding the whole thing fascinating.

Derek sighs, but he doesn’t look annoyed or exasperated. He honestly seems fine talking about werewolves, and Stiles wonders for a moment who else he had to talk about this stuff with. Not Peter, and Scott and Derek barely said two words together unless it was something like ‘go away’ or ‘someone’s dead’.

“Wolves have homes Stiles. Dens; lone werewolves especially need somewhere they can go. They don’t have pack to protect them.” Derek explains, and Stiles nods, and smiles over at the grumpy driver.

“Got’cha.”

The two men sit in a blissful silence as Derek takes the car slowly up the rough dirt road towards the camp. Stiles looks out of the window for a while, before turning and raising an eyebrow over towards his companion.

“Soooo ..." Stiles starts, drawing out the word into one long sigh "are we going to talk about it?”

Derek actually growls at that. “If you mean the man in the woods …”

“Man?! Derek it was an Angel." Stiles exclaims with wide eyes, and waves his hand for good measure "An Angel.”

“He said he was an Angel. Excuse me for not quite believing some random man stood in the middle of a forest.”

“What did he smell like?” Stiles asks suddenly, ignoring Derek’s ‘sass’ for a moment, but definitely not forgetting about it. He was enjoying this side of the usually grumpy Sourwolf. 

Derek frowns to himself, before answering begrudgingly “Not human …”

“See! Doesn’t that prove -”

“He could be something else Stiles." Derek interrupts, exasperated "Lydia smells supernatural, so do you sometimes.”

“What the heck does ‘supernatural’ smell like?” Stiles questions, frowning at Derek like he was completely crazy.

“Different.” The Alpha answers simply, with a small shrug.

Derek parks the car, and Stiles can see the small wooden cabins only a few feet away in the darkness. Derek smoothly climbs out of the car, and moves around to the boot.

Stiles frowns then, realising that Derek had said that he smells supernatural, but only sometimes. “Wait, I …”

Suddenly, the Alpha moves over to Stiles’ side of the car, and places a hand roughly up against the open door.

“Stay down.” Derek hisses, reaching over and pushing Stiles down so he is out of sight.

“Why, what’s -”

“You might wanna put your hands on your head Lassie, and move away from the car …” A gruff voice says from a small distance away, and Derek sends one final look of warning to Stiles, before slowly walking away from the car.

“Lassie?” Stiles whispers, and he actually has to fight back a smile.

All the humour drains immediately from the situation however when Stiles slowly moves out of the car, and sees the two men stood in front of Derek. One, a fairly handsome man, was holding a gun directly at Derek’s head, and looked ready to shoot …

Derek actually growls when Stiles stands next to the car, clearly not pleased that his instructions had been ignored. Well screw him, Stiles thinks as he looks at the men more closely. Derek wasn’t his Alpha.

“Castiel?” Stiles spots the man, or Angel, stood watching his friend calmly; not at all seeming to be fazed by the fact he was aiming a gun at someone.

“Hello again.” The man replies in his deep monotone.

“Stiles, my names Stiles.” He moves forward slowly, holding his hands up as he walks over to stand next to Derek.

Castiel smiles slightly, and nods over to his companion. “This is …”

“Can it Cas!” The man aiming the gun hisses towards his friend, still holding the gun worryingly steady at Derek. Clearly, he knew what to do with a gun, and had used one before. Suddenly, Stiles thinks he should have stayed in the car. 

“Dean, these are not the people we are looking for. This werewolf …”

“Is pissed.” The man, Dean, grunts back.

Stiles didn’t need to look at Derek to know that his eyes would be a deep red by now, if the growling was anything to go by …

“You wanna lower the gun?” Stiles asks the man as calmly as he can manage, considering the situation.

Castiel turns to watch him, appearing interested once again in his behaviour. Stiles almost wants to scoff at that; like he was the weird one. Castiel, or whatever his name is, was still wearing his long tan trench coat, despite the evening weather becoming hotter and humid. 

Stiles flicks his eyes down toward the gun before looking back up at its owner, and trying to appear pleading and weak, rather than annoyed and smug. After all, even with a gun, he was silently betting that Derek could take him ... 

“Not really.” Dean replies casually, and Stiles internally rolls his eyes. This guy was a dick. And are armed dick, never a good combination. 

Stiles looks back over to Derek, but the man was ignoring him. He could see the werewolf clenching his hands, no doubt trying to keep his claws at bay. Stiles needed to do something, and fast. “We’re not …”

“He’s a werewolf.” Dean growls, motioning the gun towards Derek.

Stiles notices that he doesn't sound shocked, or even surprised by this. They must have come across werewolves before. That would mean, they were Hunters. Shit. Even with the strange accountant dude claiming to be an Angel, that didn't mean he or Derek were going to be spared. Stiles knew Hunters, and he knew that they didn't care about collateral damage. His cover blown, Derek makes no attempt to hide his growing claws or fangs now, and violently growls under his breath at the two men stood in front of the Camaro. 

Dean looks towards Stiles then, and frowns. “And you …” Dean turns to look at his friend, and it takes Stiles a minute to realise that he was asking a question.

“I don’t know.” Castiel answers, still frowning over towards Stiles, who still had his hands up. “He has some magical ability.”

“Thanks.” Stiles mutters, and Castiel actually nods, accepting the thanks as if it was a sincere compliment.

“We’re not who you think we are.” Derek snarls gruffly, staring down the man aiming a loaded gun at him.

Stiles thinks Derek had made better decisions in his, hopefully not short, life …

The man with the gun laughs, but it’s without humour, and it actually makes Stiles flinch. “Oh yeah, and who do you think we’re looking for?”

“The rogue.” Derek responds quickly, and Dean frowns, before lowering the gun slightly. “We’re hunting it too.”

"Sit." Dean grumbles, and Stiles almost falls ass over ... well, he nearly falls crashing to the floor as he is propelled into the log cabin.

"Well, if you insist." The young man grumbles in return, holding his backpack tighter to his chest and marching over to a dusty sofa in the corner of the room.

Derek enters the cabin slowly and definitely wearily, and Stiles can see that the Alpha was scenting, no doubt making sure that there weren’t going to be any more surprise appearances.

Stiles takes a moment to look around, seeing the decrepit cabin and smelling moss and damp. Yep, this place had definitely been abandoned, and a long time ago. Taking the bags on one of the made beds, Dean and his friend had only just got here too. The young man wonders whether they had had the same idea as Derek, and believed that the rogue might have come here as well. Stiles really hopes that they were wrong about that …

"Where's your friend?" Stiles asks Dean, as the Hunter mercifully heads over to a small bed and places down his gun.

With it unloaded and safely placed down, Stiles relaxes, and lets out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding. He hated guns.

Dean turns to glare at Stiles, but doesn't answer. He seemed to be conflicted about something. Derek almost seems to pick up on it too, as he easily walks over to the long sofa, and sits down next to Stiles with a sigh.

"We can help ..."

"I don't work with werewolves." Dean growls immediately, sounding just as wolf like as Derek. Oh, the irony, Stiles thinks, as he passes a quick look between Derek and the Hunter, who were both glaring at each other with weirdly similar frowny faces.

"But yet, you work with Angels." Stiles answers slowly, and he can feel more than see Derek willing him to shut up.

Dean turns away from the bed, and the gun, and comes to stand directly in front of Stiles; towering over him and crossing his arms over his chest. "How the Hell do you know about that?"

"He told me." Stiles says, casually, although he can’t quiet stop bouncing around in his seat.

Damn his ADHD ... Derek seems to sense his annoyance and unease, and slowly reaches out to place a hand on his leg, willing him to sit still. It helps, and Stiles heart rate begins to climb back down to a normal rhythm.

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Cas told you that he was an Angel?" The man questions. “And you believed him?”

“Yep.” Stiles answers, popping the ‘p’ and making Derek roll his eyes. He hated it when he did that. “I’m used to Supernatural weirdness …” Stiles adds, pointedly glancing over at Derek, the Alpha werewolf, who was sat next to him on the sofa. Suddenly, Stiles realises what Dean had called his companion, and raises an amused eyebrow. "Cas?" Stiles questions. "Huh ... I guess that's easier to pronounce than that mouthful he told me."

Dean sighs, and moves to sit on the edge of the small single bed, facing the two men on the sofa. "His name is Castiel, and yeah he's an Angel."

Stiles turns to look over at Derek, and mouths a quick 'told ya'. That earns him a tight squeeze on the leg.

Suddenly, Castiel appears in the cabin, looking not the least bit out of breath, or even slightly flustered.

“Speak of the Devil …” Dean murmurs, smiling slightly up at his friend.

The Angel, Cas, cocks his head, and frowns. “You were speaking of Lucifer? Why?”

Dean rolls his eyes, and moves to stand next to his Angelic friend.

Clasping a hand on his shoulder, he grins slightly, before lowering his voice. “What d’ya find?” The man asks quietly, clearly not taking into account that Derek could probably hear the entire conversation even if they were talking on the other side of the forest.

“They were speaking the truth Dean; they drove here from the nearby town.” Stiles widen his eyes, not realising that Castiel had left to dig around in the car. Derek was going to be pissed; well, more than he already was “It is around three hours away.” The Angel continues, obviously speaking about Beacon Hills “Their car is full of clothes and some food and other camping supplies. No weapons.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, obviously surprised. “At all?”

“No.” Castiel answers, looking between the two men on the sofa with a questioning expression.

“We don’t need them …” Stiles begins to say, only to have Derek grip his leg tighter once again, causing the young man to squeak in pain. It could have been worse, Stiles knows, given that Derek was a werewolf. He knew though it was a warning to shut up, and so he did.

“What about him?” Dean continues, nodding over to Stiles. “You said he had …”

“Wolfsbane.” Castiel completes the sentence, looking quickly down at Stiles’ feet, then back up towards his face.

How in the Hell did this dude know that Stiles kept his secret werewolf repellent packet in his sock?! Could he smell it?

“Impressive” Dean mumbles, looking over to Stiles with a new expression. Almost, with respect.

“Thanks.” Stiles replies, in a sickly sweet voice, causing Derek to smirk.

Of course, crazy Alpha would only be amused when Stiles actually tried to antagonise the dude with the gun.

Dean nods to himself, and then turns to look at Cas. The Angel disappears suddenly, and Stiles can actually hear the faints rustle of feathers and feel a light breeze as the man moves. The Hunter then walks back over to his bed, and begins to unpack a large duffel that was laid out on the bed. Stiles clutches his own bag just a little bit tighter.

“So, you’re not with the rogue?” Dean questions casually, almost as if he was asking where they were from.

Stiles moves to speak, but Derek beats him to it, answering with a gruff and simple, “No.”

“Hence why it’s a ‘rogue’.” Stiles replies, smiling, before stopping quickly when he turns to see Derek’s expression.

Dean continues to unpack, and suddenly Derek tenses on the sofa. Stiles immediately spots why. The Hunter was laying out various werewolf killing tools on the bed, and acting worryingly calm about it. Silver knives, mountain ash, silver bullets …

“So, you kill werewolves?” Stiles questions, and Derek turns to look at him like he was completely insane. Well, more so than usual.

“Yeah, and not just werewolves.”

Suddenly, the light breeze comes again, and Castiel appears, holding the cardboard box of supplies that had been in the back of the Camaro, and Derek’s bag. He looks over to his friend, frowning, as he places down the two items on a nearby table. “Dean …”

“Vampires, Witches, Demons, Angels, Wendigos …” Dean mutters, ignoring his friend who was very obviously trying to tell him something.

“Wait, vampires are real?!” Stiles exclaims, and he doesn’t sound as scared as he thought he would.

Considering all of the crap they had put up with these past couple of years, dealing with Vamps would just be the icing on the cake …

“Dean, this werewolf …” Castiel drifts off, and Stiles notices that the Angel was staring at Derek.

“What?” Dean questions, not even turning away from the bed.

“He’s different.”

Stiles frowns, and looks over to Derek. The Alpha was gazing at Castiel with his own confused expression, clearly not knowing that he was talking about either.

“Yeah, they always are Cas.” Dean sighs, before picking up a stake that was very obviously made from mountain ash.

Castiel looks between Stiles and Derek, before slowly walking over to Dean, and standing next to him by the bed. With their backs to the two men on the sofa, Stiles uses the opportunity to send a quick look to Derek, trying to ask silently ‘what do we do?’.

“No I mean, biologically different.” Castiel continues, quietly.

Dean frowns, before turning to look at the Alpha over his shoulder. He drops his weapons, and strolls over to the sofa.

“Do your thing?” The man says, before crossing his arms over his chest.

Derek looks murderous. “Excuse me …”

“The thing, the claws, teeth, the whole shebang.” Dean continues, and Derek takes a deep exhale.

Suddenly, the Hunter rolls his eyes, before quickly reaching over, and grabbing Stiles by the arm. It all happens very quickly after that ...

Stiles stumbles as he is placed directly in front of Dean, watching the now red eyed and crouched Alpha. Derek was growling viciously, and Castiel was stood near him, holding up a silver dagger that looked more shiny than sharp.

The hands holding Stiles were gentle enough, and suddenly the young man realises that Dean wasn’t even armed. He shrugs off the arms on his shoulders, and annoyingly straightens his clothes as Castiel and Dean stare at Derek with wide eyes.

“What the hell?” Dean breathes, as Stiles makes his way warily over to Derek.

“Ok, shows over big guy …” Placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder, the man makes one final growl, before his features contort back into his normal human face, though his eyes still glowed a blood red. Stiles turns to look at Dean and Cas, ready to tell them all was good, when he notices just how shocked they looked. Stiles frowns. “I thought you said you’ve seen werewolves before.”

Dean nods, but then shakes his head. He opens and closes his mouth, before turning to look at the Angel next to him.

“Cas …”

“They are different biologically to the other werewolves we have encountered. They have a similar molecular structure in there DNA to that of a real wolf, there …”

“Cas, layman’s terms remember.” Dean grumbles, as the Angel pockets the long knife he had been holding.

Castiel cocks his head, still gazing at the Alpha stood next to Stiles. “They’re different Dean. It’s a new kind of werewolf.”

Suddenly, Dean makes his way over to the table in the small wooden cabin. Derek growls at the movement, but Stiles manages to placate him with a hand gently squeezing his shoulder. Dean picks up Derek’s large black leather bag, and slowly, holds it out for Derek to take.

Surprised, but still wary, Derek takes the bag, and his eyes change back into his own natural colour. Dean nods quickly, an apology Stiles realises, and Derek copies the gesture.

“Call Sam.” Dean says over his shoulder to Castiel, and the Angel surprisingly pulls out a cell phone from his long coat. “And I’m gonna cook us up some grub. I’m starving …”

Stiles watches warily as Dean moves around the small cabin, casually grabbing tins of food and putting them over a small gas camp cooker to heat up. Clearly, he had come prepared. Stiles had to admit that he was pretty hungry, and these guys didn’t seem like the sought to poison people. After all, Dean had a machete lying on his bed. Poison didn’t seem like his style. 

Castiel was back scouting the surrounding area, and the Angel didn’t seem to be particular concerned about leaving Stiles and Derek with the angry hunter with guns. Stiles didn’t know whether that should be comforting, or not.

Derek actually growls when Dean reaches into their own bag, or more like box of supplies, but the Hunter doesn’t even blink as he pulls out a few cans of the beans Stiles had brought, and begins to heat them up.

“He’s cooking Derek. Stop growling …” Stiles mumbles, speaking to the Alpha much like he would do a household pet.

Derek seems to notice this as well, as he turns to glare at his companion, who was still finding it difficult to sit still.

Dean approaches the two men suddenly, distracting Stiles and Derek from their glaring competition. The Hunter nonchalantly places two beers on the table, before walking back over to the cans of food he was cooking.

Stiles smiles widely, and reaches over to grab the bottle, but is stopped by a large rough hand on his arm.

“He’s seventeen.” Derek growls, and Stiles actually pouts.

He had drunk beer before. I mean c’mon, he was a teenager, not a hermit.

Dean turns, and frowns at the Alpha holding Stiles’ arm, as the young man attempts to wiggle free from the iron clad grip.

“You bought a seventeen year old human on a hunting trip?” Dean says the word human almost as if he was saying something like ‘useless’ or ‘stupid’.

Stiles frowns, ignoring Derek and the Hunter and their glaring match. Hunting trip? This guy made it sound like hunting rogue and dangerous killer werewolves was a holiday.

“He’s capable.” Derek grumbles, letting go of Stiles’ arm, before reaching over and sliding the beer across the dusty table and away from the young man next to him.

Dean smiles, and turns to walk back over to the table. He casually, without breaking eye contact with the frowning Alpha, slides the beer back across the table to Stiles.

“If he can hunt a rogue, he can drink a beer.” Dean replies, and Stiles notes that he sounds, almost smug. Clearly he was enjoying annoying Derek. “But just one …” The man adds, before pointing a figure at the young man and sending a warning look to Stiles.

“Ok.” Stiles concedes, reaching over for the bottle as Dean walks back over to the food. It smelt good …

“What are we doing here?” Derek asks the Hunter, making no move to gather his own drink.

Dean sighs, stirring a can of beans. “I dunno. But we can’t let you go.”

“Why not?” Stiles splutters, around a mouth full of beer. Derek grimaces as Stiles attempts to wipe some of the liquid from around his mouth.

“You’ve seen Cas.” The Hunter answers simply.

Stiles and Derek share a quick look, as Dean walks over and places two cans of warmed beans on the table in front of the two men.

“We’ve seen a lot of things more impressive than your friend, Hunter.” Derek grumbles, still not making any move to accept either the beer or the food.

Stiles wishes he would; he was seriously hungry.

Derek suddenly picks up the can in front of Stiles, and holds it up to his nose. Taking a deep breath, Derek scents the can, before handing it over to Stiles.

“It’s clean.”

Dean huffs a laugh, before digging into his own can. “I wouldn’t poison you. Not my style.”

“I knew it …” Stiles whispers with a mouth full of food and wide eyes. Derek looks over to his companion in question, but Stiles just shakes his head.

The cabin falls into an awkward silence as Dean and Stiles eat quietly, and Derek sits in silence next to Stiles on the sofa. Stiles looks between the two men, before finishing his food. He places his can on the table, before stretching, and leaning back into the chair.

“We could help each other…” Stiles suggest suddenly, and Dean immediately stops eating, joining Derek in looking at the young man like he had completely lost his mind. Stiles flushes, and reaches over for his half-drunk beer. “Or not.”

“No.” Dean and Derek answer at the same time, and the two men turn to look at each other in surprise. Stiles hides his smirk behind his beer.

“I don’t work with werewolves.” Dean sneers, again. The Hunter grabs Stiles’ can, and his own, and walks over to dump them in a small trash can by the door.

“And I don’t work with murderers.” Derek growls.

Stiles freezes; watching as Dean calmly turns, and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes spreads onto his face.

“Hunters.” Dean snaps back immediately, before crossing him arms in defence.

“Same thing.”

Dean rolls his eyes, just as a familiar flutter of wings sounds, but this time, from outside the cabin. The Hunter sends a quick look to the two men, before opening the door, and meeting Castiel outside.

Stiles whirls around towards Derek, just as the Alpha stands and begins to look around the small wooden cabin.

“Dude, these guys have guns!” Stiles exclaims, as quietly as he can manage “Can you please try not to antagonise them!”

Derek just shrugs. “I can take him.”

Stiles flusters, waving his arms around widely and trying to get Derek to realise just what a terrible idea that was. “Yeah him, but what about Cas?”

Suddenly, the door to the cabin opens, and Dean and Castiel enter, both looking relatively casual, and not appearing to have heard Derek and Stiles’ conversation.

“There is no need for violence.” Castiel says as soon as he catches Stiles’ eyes. Oh, well, never mind. He definitely heard everything. “We have a common enemy.”

Dean looks annoyed, and marches over to his supplies resting on his bed.

“If we’re going to work together, then fine, but I need to trust you. Both of you” Dean adds, looking over to Stiles.

The Hunter turns then to square down Derek, but the Alpha doesn’t even flinch at the man facing him holding a shotgun. Stiles gulps.

“You’re in no danger from us.” Derek answers, calmly and evenly. “Unlike you, we don’t kill people.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. Derek, always so dramatic …

“Did you know what they were talking about?” Stiles asks as he walks alongside Derek through the woods. “Before I mean, about you being a new kind of werewolf.” The young man adds, noticing the look of confusion on the Alpha’s face.

“No.” Derek grumbles, watching the two figure walking slightly ahead of them. Castiel was disappearing every now and again, but would always come back to walk beside Dean.

“They said you’re different …” Stiles continues, lowering his voice slightly.

Derek doesn’t stop glaring at the backs of Dean and Castiel, but simply nods slightly. “Hmm.”

“Well, aren’t you the special snowflake.” Stiles jokes, before Derek reaches out and punches the young man in the arm with a glare. “Ow!”

“Are you alright?”

Stiles and Derek turn immediately to look at Castiel, who had stopped walking alongside Dean to investigate what was going on.

“Yeah Cas, I’m fine.” Stiles answers, smiling as he rubbed his arm slightly, trying to show he wasn’t in pain.

The Angel nods, not appearing to be bothered in the slightest at being addressed by his nickname by a complete stranger. Dean turns to see why had his companion had stopped, but continues his quick pace when the Angel disappears, and then appears next to him once again.

“What’s the problem?” Stiles almost growls as he continues walking alongside the angry werewolf.

Derek rolls his eyes, although he doesn’t seem to be amused in the slightest. “I’m walking in the middle of the woods with a Hunter, that’s the problem Stiles.”

Stiles cocks his head, “Allison is a Hunter.”

“Different.” Derek answers immediately, finally looking away from Dean and Castiel to glance around the thick trees surrounding the four men.

“How?!” Stiles exclaims, ignoring the questioning look Dean sends him.

“Allison and her family hunt werewolves Stiles. Just werewolves.” Derek continues, his voice so low that even Stiles struggled to hear him.

“What are you saying?”

Derek stops, and moves to stand directly in front of Stiles, stopping his erratic walking pace. “These guys hunt everything, and anything.”

“Vampires?” Stiles questions, and Derek sighs.

“Yeah.”

“Demons?”

“Yes.”

“Ghosts …”

Derek reaches out, and grasps Stiles’ shoulders, sensing that the young man was moving from excitement to hysteria. “Stiles, shut up.”

“Yeah, shutting up. Good idea.”

Derek nods, apparently satisfied, before turning and beginning to walk over to Dean and his Angelic companion. Stiles frowns for a moment, realising that the two men were not waiting for he and Derek, but were looking at something on the forest floor.

“What’s that?” Stiles questions immediately as he reaches the group.

The young man couldn’t see anything of interest, but his three companions were looking like they had found some sort of lost treasure.

“Tracks.” Dean answers with a smile, before reaching around and pulling a machete from his back pack.

“He went north east.” Derek answers, looking down at the ground and squinting, almost as if he was reading something.

Stiles nods, even though he has no idea what Derek was talking about.

“There’s caves up there. Not big enough to be a den, but it might be storing kills there.” Dean continues, and he nods to Castiel, who disappears, presumably to check out these ‘caves’.

“He or she …” Stiles mumbles under his breath, as Derek crouches down to inspect the tracks more closely.

Dean cocks his head, and frowns. “What?”

“It’s not an it, it’s a person.” Stiles argues, and Derek sighs.

“Stiles, go back to camp.”

“What?! No way …”

“Stiles …”

“You didn’t bring me just to look pretty Derek, I can help …”

“Not here. It’s too exposed and you’re no good in close combat.”

Stiles open his mouth, and closes it again. He knew Derek was right. He had been brought along to use wolfsbane and mountain ash, not machetes and shotguns. If they were attacked, he’d be a hindrance more than a help. 

“Fine.” The young man concedes, but he crosses his arms, showing his annoyance.

“I’ll escort him back Dean.” Castiel answers, and Stiles jumps, not even having realised that the Angel was back.

The young man freezes for a second. He wasn’t sure about leaving Derek and Dean alone. Cas seemed like a good guy, but Dean …

“Fancy taking a walk?” The Hunter murmurs, smiling as he looks up towards the north side of the dense forest.

“Just us?” Derek questions, with a raised eyebrow.

Dean smirks, no doubt challenging the Alpha. “Problem?”

Derek doesn’t respond, but just looks up at Stiles, and then back down to the tracks. Stiles knew he was torn. He could find the rogue and take care of it tonight, but that meant he would have to leave Stiles …

“We need your nose.” Dean continues, sheathing his machete and reaching around for his shot gun instead.

“How do I know that you’re not just going to kill me?” Derek says as he stands, and Dean pulls a face.

“I can give you my word?”

“That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.” Derek grumbles, before crossing his arms casually.

Stiles wanted to scream. There was a rogue werewolf somewhere, probably eating something, or someone, and here were two guys having a pissing contest. 

“Fine, Cas will go with … Stiles,” Dean says, and Stiles nods, letting the man know he had said his name correctly. “So it’s just us. After all, you can take me, right?”

Shit, Dean had heard what they had said back in the cabin. Stiles glances over to Derek, waiting for his reaction.

Seeing that Derek was about to argue, Stiles interrupts. “You need Cas as well, I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Stiles …” 

“I know the way back, I can go by myself.”

“No …”

"It’s fine,” Dean interrupts, stopping Derek from arguing with the young man any further. “We’ll track the rogue," The Hunter says, pointing to himself, Derek and Castiel "you follow our tracks back. Any problems, pray.”

Stiles frowns, and cocks his head. “Pray?”

“Yeah, to Cas.” Dean continues, pointing over to the Angel who was smiling slightly at the bemused human.

“Think of me, and I’ll come to your aid.” Castiel explains simply, and Dean nods. 

“Ok, great.” Stiles responds, clapping his hands together and nodding himself, although much more erratically.

Derek must have been able to sense his nerves, as he reaches out to place a reassuring hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Be careful.”

“You got it Hale.” Stiles responds immediately, smiling at his concerned companion, and resisting the urge to make an inappropriate joke. Concerned and caring Derek, with the touching and reassurance ... What next, flying pigs?

Suddenly, Stiles spins, and begins to walk back the way the four men had come, counting his steps and mumbling something about ‘breadcrumbs’ and ‘the big bad wolf’ under his breath. Derek shakes his head, half amused, and half exasperated.

“He’s … interesting.” Dean mumbles as Derek moves to walk ahead of the Hunter and Angel, following the scent of the rogue.

Derek huffs a laugh, before turning quickly to look back at the retreating figure of Stiles over his shoulder. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“Stiles, you’re coming with me, I need your help …” Stiles mumbles as he walks back towards the abandoned cabins, in a very poor imitation of Derek’s gruff voice.

The young man grabs a fallen branch from the forest floor as he walks, and begins swinging it casually against some smaller trees and shrubs, distracting himself. 

“Sure Derek, let me just leave a note for my Dad and let him know that this week, while I’m supposed to be lying in bed doing nothing, instead I will be walking around a creepy forest hunting a werewolf.”

Stiles scoffs, still swinging the branch around, before shaking his head at his own stupidity.

"Alone ..." The young man adds, suddenly looking up, and realising with some surprise, that he had no idea where he was. Did they pass that tree on the way here? Why did trees all look so similar ...

It was a school holiday, and Stiles was supposed to be using that as a much needed break. Scott though had told him he would busy with Allison, Isaac was using the break to study, because he’s crazy and actually volunteered to take classes when school wasn’t even open. Lydia and Jackson were going on a vacation for a few days, because they were rich, and apparently that's what rich people do. 

Stiles was going to be home alone, with only his television, Xbox and laptop for company ... 

Stiles had been in the process of planning which to marathon first, the Star Wars of Lord of the Rings movies, when a wide eyed and concerned Derek had swung into his bedroom through the open window. The Alpha had only mentioned the words ‘rogue’ and ‘werewolf’ before moving over to Stiles' closet and had begun to pull out clothes and throw them onto the bed, that definitely didn’t belong to him. Stiles didn’t argue, but simply sighed, and started to pack.

Without this, he’d have been moping around the house, thinking about Lydia, not seeing Scott, and barely seeing his Dad. Besides, this way, Stiles was at least doing something useful.

He’d scrawled a message to his Dad, telling him not to worry, and at Derek’s persistence, mentioned something about going to see Deaton in the neighbouring town. Apparently that would be more believable than Stiles' idea that he was going to sleepover at the Hale house for a few day's. Good call, Sourwolf.

Thinking about Deaton made Stiles realise how much he had actually missed the man's presence in Beacon Hills. After the incident with Scott and Derek fighting Peter for dominance, the emissary had decided it would be better for him to be out of the new Hale – McCall territory, as to not cause any more friction in the newly bonded and established pack.

If he was completely honest, Stiles was actually flattered that Derek had come to him for help. Derek seemed to trust Stiles, and Derek also didn’t seem to be the kind of person to trust anyone. He also seemed to think that Stiles wasn't completely useless, and that Stiles thinks, is the closest he is ever going to get to a compliment from the gruff Alpha. 

Suddenly, a rumbling growl sounds from some nearby trees, and Stiles freezes, the stick he was swinging suspended in mid-air.

Well, that didn’t sound good …

Stile’s first instinct is too call out for Derek, knowing that sometimes fully transformed, or even partly transformed werewolves had a hard time remembering names and faces of humans, even pack. Apparently, as Scott had so eloquently put it, they were a bit preoccupied by smelling everything and having hair in places they didn’t even think possible. Lovely Scott.

The sound comes again, and now with it being so close, Stiles knows that it is not Derek.

Firstly, Derek would have smelled him by now, and realised that it was just little ol’ Stiles. Secondly, he wouldn’t be growling like he was about to lunge and rip Stiles throat out …

Slowly, Stiles reaches down and pulls out the small packet of Wolfsbane that he had hidden in his sock. He curses himself internally when he remembers that he hadn’t picked up his Mountain Ash, knowing that it was hard for Derek to even walk next to him when he held it.

Hearing another growl, even closer, Stiles suddenly remembers his promise to Lydia after he had gone for supplies, and collected the map.

“Don’t get killed Stiles, or I’ll be pissed.”

“Sure thing Lyds. I promise I won’t die …”

Stiles had been joking, but suddenly, he wishes he hadn’t been. This wasn’t funny, not one bit …

As he walks through the trees towards the rogue’s den, Dean studies the werewolf in front of him. The man appeared young, maybe just a few years below Sam, but his permanent frown and worn features made him seem much older; almost ancient.

Cas seemed to think that these werewolves were different than the ones they had encountered before, and Dean was inclined to agree. Sam hadn’t heard of anything about glowing eyes, especially bright red glowing eyes, and Garth seemed to be in agreement that the werewolves he knew couldn’t actually turn into real wolves. That seemed more like shapeshifting …

Dean knew a lot about werewolves. Before Garth, the eldest Winchester and his brother had hunted and met hundreds of them, and personally Dean had almost a morbid curiosity about them. Most monsters the Winchester encounter were human at one point. Ghosts, demons, vampires … but werewolves were a whole other ball game. They could be born, and unlike vampires, a simple scratch was enough to turn someone else.

Dean reaches down, and idly scratches the Mark on his arm. It wasn't itching, or even hurting, but it felt almost like it was buzzing under his skin.

The Hunter quickly looks back up towards the werewolf, ensuring that he wasn’t scenting, or appearing to try and run. Cas was walking alongside Dean, and his was grateful that he had some Supernatural back up, even if his company meant that Deans plan was now completely ruined.

It had been a simple plan, and had worked perfectly up until now. First, separate the human from the werewolf, then isolate the werewolf. The caves were perfect, and Dean thinks it wouldn’t have taken long to kill the werewolf. With the rogues scent distracting him, Dean could have easily snuck up on him. He would have dealt with it, then gone back to the human and sprouted some nonsense about the rogue killing his friend. It would have been believable; Dean would have made sure of that.

But then, Cas came along. Dean knew that his friend wouldn’t approve of stabbing the thing in the back, literally, especially not now when he was helping them hunt another monster. Dean realises with some surprise that the wolf had been mumbling, and manages to tune in just in time to hear Castiel’s response.

“He is perfectly safe. I can sense the rogue up ahead, and your friend is heading in the opposite direction.”

The werewolf, Derek, sighs, although it sounds more like a growl.

“He’s an idiot. He could probably get killed just walking back …”

Derek stops speaking suddenly, and Dean frowns at the back of the man walking ahead of him and Castiel. Dean just didn’t understand it. Derek didn’t even seem to like Stiles, and Stiles didn’t seem to be completely cool with being around a werewolf. Clearly, the young man had seen some things to make him weary of the Alpha. Dean could imagine what those things were, and it made him grip his handgun tighter.

Before they knew it, Dean spots the small collection of caves up ahead, sitting on the edge of a large stone precipice. Castiel disappears, and with a sigh, Dean starts to climb the small boggy slope up to the rogues den.

“You wanted to kill me …”

Dean doesn’t even turn, but instead tries to keep his expression neutral. “What?”

“We have bigger problems than me right now.”

The Hunter scoffs, and purposely reaches down to his waste where his machete hangs in its leather scabbard. He taps it lightly, before shaking his head, amused. “Are you seriously trying to tell me that every instinct in your body isn’t telling you to kill me right now?”

Derek frowns, and tilts his head. “No, they’re not. My instincts are telling me that you want to kill me, and that the rogue is in that den …”

Dean, about to make a smart remark, follows Derek’s line of vision, and spots a small cave up ahead, partly covered by a small shrub.

“Cas …” It is merely more than a whisper, but Dean knows his friend has heard his urgent voice when the Angel calmly appears beside him.

He points up to the den, and then looks over to Derek. The werewolf had shifted, his features warping into a grotesque creature with blazing red eyes.

Derek walks up ahead, or more like stalks, and Dean holds up a hand to Castiel, warning him to hang back. Dean knew the werewolf was drawing out the rouge; a challenge.

The Hunter can’t help but watch fascinated, as Derek begins to growl, and a small, weaker growl comes in return. Dean gestures to Castiel, and the Angel vanishes, appearing directly beside the entrance to the den. Dean pulls out his gun, loaded with silver bullets, and holds it up, aiming it just near the den. He counted silently in his head, hearing the growling gradually get louder, and more vicious.

Derek takes a few paces back, and Dean steps forward, automatically nodding his thanks as he takes the spot the werewolf had vacated. The Hunter tries not to become distracted by the confusion on Derek’s face at receiving Dean’s genuine gratitude, but instead he takes his place.

Now, Castiel, Dean and Derek had the den surrounded, and the rogue had nowhere to go …

It was over pretty quickly.

The rogue was filthy, ragged and barely even alive. It didn’t look like it had been eating, and Derek wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that the werewolf had some sort of illness.

He couldn’t reason with it, or even try to control it. It completely ignored his status as Alpha, and was simply attacking without reason or thought. If Dean hadn’t been quick and Castiel hadn’t been watching his back, the thing would have easily been able to rip him to shreds. As it was, the rogue had two silver bullets inside it, and was still fighting.

Castiel was hanging back, trying to let Derek get the creature to submit, but it was no use. The wolf was too much, and it didn’t look like the rogue would ever be able to shift back into a human.

It saddened Derek to watch the rogue suffer, but it was feral, and dangerous, and Derek could smell the stench of death on its breath. He could also see the remains of shredded tents, clothes and animal skins near the entrance to the den. They needed to put it out of his misery, and quickly.

Derek turns to look to Castiel, and with a single nod, the Angel knows what he needs to do. He steps forward cautiously as Dean and Derek distract the lunging and snapping werewolf, and pulls out a long silver knife. Dean nods as well, as Castiel moves forward impossibly quickly, stabbing the werewolf through the heart.

The creature howls, and it is one of the most dreadful sounds Derek has ever heard in his life. He winces, and turns away as the wolf falls to the ground with a thud. It was a powerful Omega to shift into a full wolf; something Derek had never seen before, although he had heard of it happening. Or at least, was a powerful Omega. Now it was dead, and Derek can’t help but think it was a colossal waste.

The sound still echoes out in the woods, but Dean rushes forward, and ends the noise with another bullet right between the wolfs eyes.  

Dean doesn’t seem to be affecting the slightest, but merely keeps his gun raised as he warily approaches the fallen animal, obviously wanting to ensure it was really dead before he got too close.

Derek feels deflated, and useless.

He had come with a plan of his own, and it hadn’t worked. Stiles was supposed to surround the rogue with mountain ash, trapping it, whilst Derek got it to submit and shift back into a human. Now, the rogue was dead, and Derek felt less like an Alpha than before, if that was even possible.

“We should check the den.”

Derek just nods, before shifting back into his regular human features and moving forward to scout the small cave. Castiel remains outside, standing over the rogue, and Derek wonders for a moment if the Angel was going to bury it. The werewolf hadn’t shifted back, and Derek thinks that may be a testament to just how feral the creature was.

“Wait …”

Derek, distracted up until now in his own thoughts, places a hand on Deans shoulder, halting the hunter and earning himself a glare.

The Alpha take a deep breath, scenting the small den they were about to enter. Suddenly, Derek’s eyes widen, and he blanches.

“What?” Dean asks, now more concerned about what Derek was smelling than the fact he had a Alpha’s hand on his shoulder.

“There’s another one.” Derek says quietly, and Dean frowns.

“What, what are you talking about?”

“I’m picking up another scent. There were two wolves here …”

Dean seems to understand Derek’s concern, as his expression hardens, and he looks out towards Castiel, and the vast woods beyond. “But that means …”

“Stiles.”

The Alpha ignores Deans voice, and Castiel’s questioning expression as he bolts in the woods, shifting as he moves.

Derek can only remember one other time where he had run like this before. He had been at school with Laura, when a police officer had entered the classroom with the news. Laura had nodded at him when they had got into the parking lot, and the two werewolves had run as fast as they could to the Hale family home. He had been two late then, but he wasn’t going to be too late this time …

Derek can smell blood.

He dashes into a small clearing in the trees, skidding to a halt and growling when he catches the lingering scent of a wolf. But not just any wolf, another Alpha.

“Der …”

A small rasp sounds from nearby, and Derek knows that without his supernatural hearing, he wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

He sees Stiles then, and knows his face grows pale as he takes in the sight before him.

Stiles had pulled himself over to a tree, and was using the large trunk to rest on. A large patch of blood had smeared across the forest floor, and was staining the leaves and mud near where Derek was stood.

Stiles’ stomach was sliced open.

Stiles’ organs were being held in by his own hands.

Derek didn’t get here in time.

“I know … useless …” Stiles whispers, his voice laced with pain, and his eyes desperately trying to focus on the man in front of him.

It is only then, as he stands frozen in shock, that Derek realizes that he and Stiles are not alone in the clearing.

Castiel appears suddenly, and moves to crouch next to the shuddering and bleeding human.

Derek growls, and shifts, ready to lunge and defend the fallen human from the Angel, only to be stopped by a strong arm around his shoulders. Much too strong to be human …

“Stay still …” Castiel says quietly to the young man below him on the ground, and Derek growls, a quick warning that the Angel ignores.

“Yeah, not a problem …” Stiles replies weakly, and he smiles

Derek winces, still struggling against Dean, as he can see the human’s blood stained teeth and mouth.

Slowly, like he was afraid of startling the dying man before him, Castiel reaches down, and holds his hand directly above Stiles’ stomach, where Derek was trying desperately not to look.

A pure white glow comes from the Angels hand, and Derek frowns, and can feel his features shift back to his human face. Dean stands next to him in silence, not seeming to be the least bit concerned, or even surprised by what was happening in front of him.

Castiel stands slowly, the light disappearing from his hands, and Derek can do nothing more than blink in shock. Despite everything he had seen in his short supernatural life, he had never seen anything like this before. Stiles was, whole …

Stiles looks up towards Derek, who is finally released by Dean, and makes a few stumbling steps forward. The young man smiles weakly, still pale, but no longer appearing to be in agony.

“Told you … Angel …” Stiles mumbles, before his head lolls onto his chest, and his eyes droop shut.

Stiles flails his arms, and mumbles something about ‘keeping still’. The swaying motion, or whatever was going on, was uncomfortable, and he felt like he was about to throw up.

Suddenly, he realises with some surprise that he is being carried, or more like cradled. Unable to open his heavy eyelids, Stiles simply makes do with flapping his arms around, and moving his legs to try and get away from the ironclad grip around his body.

“Stop it Stiles.”

The young man’s eyes snap open in shock, and he definitely wasn’t expecting that voice to be the one holding him.

Stiles rolls his head around, because at the moment, it seemed like he didn’t really have a good amount of control over his body. He spots Dean walking up ahead, but doesn’t see any sign of the Angel, Castiel.

Derek on the other hand, was stoically looking ahead, and not seeming to be the least bit concerned with the fact that he was cradling Stiles like a baby.

“Derek?! What … put me down!”

Derek growls, and that’s enough to keep Stiles from trying to wiggle out of his strong arms.

“Stay still.” Derek mutters, before shifting Stiles so he has no choice but to cling onto the werewolf’s shoulder to stop him tumbling down onto the forest floor.

“Well, look whose awake …”

Stiles turns to see Deans smiling face, and he seemed more amused to see Stiles in Derek’s arms than anything else. The Alpha must sense the smirk as well, as he glares at the Hunter. He doesn’t growl though, or flash his eyes, so Stiles considers that to be a mild victory.

“Wh … wh …” Stiles mumbles incoherently, looking between the two men. They were still glaring at each other, but it almost seemed like a silent conversation … What the hell was going on?

“You feeling ok?” Dean asks, slowing his pace to walk alongside Derek and the fair maiden in his arms. Or at least, that’s what Stiles felt like.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Slightly confused …” The young man adds, pointedly looking up at Derek, who was still strategically avoiding his questioning gaze.

“Do you remember what happened?” Dean continues, and Stiles scoffs and nods, really not understanding what all the weird concerning looks were about. Especially from the guy who had almost put a bullet in Derek.

“Yeah, I …” Suddenly Stile’s face falls, and his eyes bulge as he recalls just what happened before Sourwolf had turned up.

Stiles tugs on Derek’s sleeve so harshly that the Alpha does finally meet his eyes, and it is all the warning he gets before Stiles jumps down, or more like falls down from his arms, and manages to turn away just in time to empty his stomach.

He remembers. He remembers being ripped open by a werewolf …

“He’ll be alright.” A voice says from a small distance away, and Stiles is slightly shocked to find that the considerate words are coming from none other than Dean himself. “Sometimes Cas’ mojo can make you feel a bit …”

Stiles can’t see the hand gesture Dean gives Derek, but he can guess. His stomach feels whole, and he’s not in pain, but he is exhausted, and really hungry.

Derek mumbles a response, before Stiles can hear his footsteps approach, and a large warm hand is placed on his back.

“Can you walk? We shouldn’t stay out here …”

That’s enough to get Stiles off the floor. He knows they shouldn’t be out here. He’s seen first-hand what that thing can do, and it’s not pleasant …

Just as he and Derek turn to slowly walk towards Dean, Stiles suddenly remembers that he needs to be angry, and so turns. The Alpha’s hand falls from his back as he frowns at the young man in front of him, who was quickly changing from pale, to a bright red.

“What the hell man?! You were supposed to be hunting the thing! What happened to …”

“You were supposed to pray, remember?” Dean interrupts, and he actually manages to sound just as, if not more annoyed than Stiles.

“Oh, I’m so sorry I forgot to pray to an Angel whilst MY GUTS WERE HANGING OUT!”

“Stiles, breathe … breathe …”

Stiles turns to Derek, about to yell at him about how stupid that comment was, until he realises that he has in fact, stopped breathing.

The young man bends over slightly, gasping for air, but he can feel his body fighting him, and his heart beat racing. He clenches his fists, swaying on his feet as he tries to calm himself down.

“Stiles?” Derek’s expression quickly changes from exasperation, to fright. He’d never seen Stiles have a panic attack, and looked like he had no idea what to do …

All of the times, in all the places, and of all the humans, Stiles Stilinksi had to be the one to have a panic attack in the middle of the woods, near sunset, when a killer werewolf was roaming around …

Derek flusters, moving his hands around the man’s body, but no knowing what to do. Think, what would Scott do?

“What’s happening?”

The Alpha grits his teeth as Dean warily approaches the wheezing and weeping boy.

“Panic attack.” Derek mumbles, and the Hunter immediately drops his hand away from where it was resting near his machete at his waist.

He looks ready to rush over towards Stiles, but Derek holds up a hand in warning. Think Derek think?! What did Lydia do …

“What?! Well, what do we do?!” Dean flusters, looking around suddenly as if there were going to find an answer stuck on the trunk of a nearby tree.

“I don’t know!” Derek growls back, and Stiles begins to grow louder, and more hysterical. The Alpha sighs internally, before tuning to face the Hunter. “Get your friend …”

“Cas won’t know -”

The young Hunters sentence is cut off, as the trench coated man suddenly appears directly behind Stiles. He gently rests his hand on the top of the panic-stricken man’s head, and Derek only has a millisecond of warning before Stiles’ eyes fall shut, and he falls towards the ground.

“Your friend is no longer having a panic attack.” Castiel says simply, looking down at Stiles with fondness as Derek struggle to hold him up.

“Yeah, because he’s unconscious!” The Alpha yells back, still trying to wake the young man in his arms. If he had to carry Stiles one more time …

Castiel, seeming confused by Derek’s outburst, turns to his own companion, and Dean shakes his head, and sighs.

“Not cool, Cas.”

“Stiles?” Derek gently hits the man across the face, but he doesn’t even mumble in response. Great.

“I was trying to help.”

The Alpha ignores the conversation happening above his head, and spends his effort trying to rouse the young man in his arms.

They needed Stiles, awake, to cast the boundary with mountain ash. And soon, Derek thinks internally, as the sun begins to set down behind the trees.

“It was the simplest solution.”

“Cas, man, we don’t knock people out with Angel mojo. That’s just a no!”

“I’ve done it before.”

“What? When?” Derek, who was still ignoring the conversation, moves to pick up Stiles, and notices as he move that Dean’s expression had changed to one of confusion to fury. “When Cas …”

“You were severely inebriated. It was …”

“No knocking people out Cas! I mean it!”

The Angel sighs, before turning to follow after Derek. “Very well.” He agrees, somewhat begrudgingly, and Dean huffs before he also moves to walk back towards the abandoned camp.

“How long until he wakes up?” Derek asks the Angel behind him, before glancing down at the young human in his arms. He wasn’t even snoring. Now that was terrifying.

“An hour or so. His heart rate and breathing were worryingly erratic. He needed -”

“Yeah I know.” Derek interrupts. He didn’t need his werewolf senses to know Stiles was in serious trouble back then. “Thanks.”

Castiel smiles slightly, and nods, accepting the gratitude.

Stiles was starving.

Not, ‘I could eat anything right now’ starving, but ‘I don’t care if that’s not edible, I’m still going to eat’ it starving.

He sits up slowly, cradling his aching head, and groaning and wincing as his protesting limbs and muscles move into action. Stiles realises with some surprise that he is back in one of the log cabins. He doesn’t remember walking there …

Looking around, Stiles spots a figure silhouetted in the small lamp that was sitting on the table. He frowns, and squints, trying to make out the man better in the dim light. 

“Cas?”

The Angel turns immediately, and smiles warmly when he sees Stiles sat up on the long dusty sofa. “Hello.” 

“Oh, god …” His head was pounding, and his chest … It felt like he’d been kicked in the ribs. “What happened?” 

Castiel moves down from his perch near the window, and slowly walks over to stand next to the small table in front of Stiles. He picks up a glass of water that the young man hadn’t yet noticed, and hands it him carefully. “You were having a severe panic attack. I assisted you.”

At that, Stiles stops drinking, and lowers the glass. “When you say ‘assisted you’, do you mean ‘knocked you out’?”

The Angel looks down, and Stiles is almost surprised to see that he looks embarrassed. He raises an eyebrow, before taking another drink of water. 

“I apologise, but your breathing …”

“Hey, no. It’s cool man.” Stiles interrupts with a wave of his hand, before placing the now empty glass back on the table. “Thanks.” 

Castiel smiles, apparently mollified, before making his way back over to the window. It was pitch black outside, and Stiles can’t help but wonder how long he’d been asleep. Did he miss anything?

Suddenly, Stiles realises that he and Cas were completely alone in the cabin, and there were no sign of his companion anywhere. He looks over to the Angel, who was squinting out of the dusty and filthy window.

“Where’s Van Helsing? And Sourwolf?”

The Angel turns to look at Stiles over his shoulder, and frowns, before cocking his head to the side. He really did look birdlike when he did that … 

“I mean Derek, and your friend.” Stiles corrects. Wow, he was going to have to be really literal when he spoke to this dude. Angels must not get out much. 

Castiel opens his mouth slightly, almost in an ‘Oh’ shape, before nodding his head in the direction of the window, and the woods beyond.

“Nearby. Dean is scouting the North, and your friend Derek is scouting South. They will meet back here soon.”

“Oh, ok good.” 

Stiles nods jerkily, before swinging his legs from the sofa and placing them gently on the floor. He felt really tired, almost exhausted, and hungry. Did he mention that he was hungry?

“How are you feeling?” 

Stiles huffs a small laugh, before stretching his arms over his head, and groaning. “Honestly?” He drops his arms, and smiles over to the Angel. “I’m starving.”

Castiel smiles back, before walking over to the small kitchenette area in the cabin. The gas burner that Dean had set up earlier was still there, and Castiel doesn’t even look at it, but Stiles knows that it is him who switched it on. Telekinetic powers? Ok, that was really cool. 

The Angel opens a bean can, and carefully places it on top of the small gas cooker. Stiles can’t help but smile when he notices the concentration on his companions face. It was like he was trying to copy what Dean had done, exactly.

“What’s with you and him anyway?” Stiles asks suddenly, and Castiel turns from his task to gaze questionably at him.

“What do you mean?”

“Well …” Stiles flails his hands for a second, and frowns as much as his throbbing head will allow him to. “You’re an, Angel, and he hunts supernatural-y things. You’d think he’d …” The young man waves his hands once again, unable to really put the whole ‘weird Hunter and Supernatural creature friendship’ thing into words.

Castiel smiles, and turns to walk closer to Stiles. 

“Myself and Dean have been friends for years. I’ve saved his life many times.” 

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Stiles replies with a laugh, and Cas smiles even wider. Suddenly, the Angels expression changes, and he almost appears, well, moved.

“And he’s saved mine.”

Stiles’ eyes widen, and he shifts forward on his chair, trying to get closer to where the Angel was standing. “Well, this I gotta hear …”

Dean stands in front of the small cabin, waiting for Derek to return. The Mark on his arm was still buzzing slightly, and he wanted nothing more than to reach down and scratch. Doing that though, would no doubt enlighten Cas to it bothering him, and Dean desperately didn’t want to have that conversation with his Angelic friend.

Derek suddenly jogs into the area, and Dean looks up from where he was jabbing his machete into the ground. He got bored easily …

“Anything?”

The Alpha shakes his head, and approaches the cabin at a normal walking pace. “No, the scent trails gone cold.”

“Or, it never came this far?” Dean suggests, and Derek shrugs, almost in agreement.

“That too …”

Dean nods, but doesn’t make any move to enter the cabin where he could hear Castiel speaking to Stiles in a low voice. The Hunter frowns slightly, and cocks his head towards the two men inside.

“So, what’s with you and the scrawny kid?” Derek frowns, before changing his expression to a completely blank one. Dean smiles widely, and tucks his machete back into its holder. “C’mon, don’t get all shy on me now …”

“He’s a friend.” Derek says after a moment, and Dean wonders if he can actually hear the conversation happening inside.

“Really?!” Dean laughs, crossing his arms over his chest “Because from what I’ve seen, with the glaring and punching …”

“He’s an annoyance.” Derek interrupts, scowling.

“Yep, that’s what I thought.”

Derek walks forward, ready to open the cabin door, but he stops instead, and turns to the Hunter with an amused look. “But he’s a useful annoyance.”

Dean smiles, and nods, but lowers his voice, hoping that Derek will notice that he didn’t want to be having a conversation about the weird kid in front of the weird kid.

“So what was the plan exactly?” Dean asks quietly, genuinely more curious than mocking. “Bring a very killable and weak human out into the middle of the forest and just, wait for him to become a chew toy?”

Derek sighs, and it takes him a few seconds to respond. Dean can’t help but notice that he looks, almost defensive.

“Stiles can trap werewolves using Mountain Ash. That’s why I brought him.”

Dean frowns, and cocks his head slightly. “Is he a witch?”

“Stiles?” Derek asks, although it is more like a laugh than a question. The Alpha shakes his head, amused “No.”

Dean nods, mollified that he wasn’t going to suddenly have to keep a look out for hex bags, before opening the door. Derek walks, or more like marches in before him, and immediately makes a beeline for the laughing man on the sofa. Dean sends a suspicious look to Castiel, who was looking awfully like he thought he was going to be in trouble.

“What?” The Hunter asks, but the Angel was already shaking his head with wide eyes.

“Nothing.” Stiles answers for Cas, and Dean just sighs, before heading over to the kitchen area to find a beer. Or three …

“So, what’s the plan?” The young human asks animatedly, obviously addressing the werewolf next to him, but Dean Gets there first.

“Stiles will be the bait.” Dean states calmly, before popping off the caps to two beers.

“Excuse me?! Does Stiles have a say in this?!” Stiles exclaims, flailing his arms around widely.

Why did he come along of this stupid trip … He’d already almost been killed, and almost being killed was just as fun as actually being killed. Ergo, not fun at all.

Dean cocks his head, almost as if he was actually contemplating it, but then he smiles. Stiles wanted to punch him. “No.”

“You will be fine Stiles. I’m going to protect you.” Castiel adds, and Stiles doesn’t even bother asking how he knew the plan. Had he been listening to Derek and Dean talking outside?

Stiles looks around the room, seeing a Hunter, an Angel, and an Alpha. Well, there were worse bodyguards. “Oh … damn it, fine.” He agrees, before throwing himself deeper into the sofa. “What’s next?”

Derek sends him a quick smile, and Stiles smiles back just as quickly. Scott was never going to believe this anyway, why not add ‘heroic bait Stiles’ to the story.

“Derek is going to challenge the thing, and draw him out.” Dean explains, before moving forward and handing Derek one of the two beers that had been in his hand. “You’re going to make a circle, a big one to trap them.”

Stiles, about to ask how Dean knew about the mountain ash, suddenly realises what the Hunter had said. “Wait, both of them? Derek too?”

Dean just continues, ignoring Stiles’ comment. “When Derek comes, he’s going to run into the trap towards you …”

“What?!”

“Then you get out of there and close it”

“Again … what?!”

Dean actually sighs then, and rolls his eyes. It’s not Stiles’ fault he was freaking out. He had gone from werewolf bait to trapped werewolf bait.

“Derek can fight the thing in the circle, and I’ll be shooting silver into it from outside the boundary.”

“But, Der-“

“I’ll be fine Stiles. I can handle it.” The Alpha interrupts, but Stiles was already looking over to him with wide eyes.

Ok, Derek wasn’t seeming to understand just how horrifying this thing was. Time to pull out the big guns.

“You didn’t see it! Derek, this thing is like Peter huge. You remember, Peter …”

Derek turns his head so fast to glare at Stiles, the young man almost fears for a second that he’s going to do some serious damage. Dean looks between the two men sat on the sofa, clearly trying to understand what was going on. Cas meanwhile, was squinting at Stiles.

“Is that a reference to a gospel?”

Stiles turns towards the Angel, and laughs once. “What? No Cas. He …” He turns back towards Derek, and the Sourwolf was apparently finally getting what Stiles was trying to say. He looked, concerned. “Peter was an Alpha that we knew. Big, powerful …”

“A pain in the ass.” Derek interjects, and Stiles can’t help but smile at that.

“Did you kill him?” Dean asks, and Stiles nods jerkily.

“Yeah. Molotov and claws. Works wonders.”

Dean seems pleased by this, as he nods too, before after finishing his beer. “Ok, so that means we know we can take out this Son of a Bitch.”

Stiles doesn’t know whether it is the situation, the fact that he is stressed beyond belief, or the fact that he has drunk an entire beer, but he suddenly breaks out into uncontrollable laughter. He turns to Derek, who looked like he was ready to knock out his companion once again just to shut him up.

“Get it, son of a bitch? Bitch?” Stiles, seeing Derek’s less than impressed expression, turns instead to Dean and Cas, who were looking at him like he was half mad. “Female dog … c’mon guys work with me here!”

Castiel very slowly turns to Dean, “I think perhaps his injuries were more severe than I originally thought.” The Angel says, completely deadpan, and the hysteric teen can’t even tell if he is being serious.

Dean rolls his eyes, but Derek actually laughs, and Stiles is too surprised to even bother threatening him.

“So, when do we do this?” Dean asks Derek, and the Alpha looks out of one of the cabin windows.

“Early hours. It’s when it’ll be most active.”

“Ok. Cas keep watch …”

“Erm, that’s the other thing, what’s Cas doing while I’m being all heroic?” Stiles interrupts, ignoring the eye roll from Derek as the Alpha finishes his own beer. Dean raises an eyebrow, and Stiles sighs. “Fine, while we’re being all heroic?”

“I’m going to be watching over you Stiles, and ensuring the boundary stays in place.”

Stiles nods, “Can you fight too?”

“I won’t be as much use as your friend.” Cas replies, nodding over towards Derek. “But I can heal him if his injuries become too troublesome.”

Stiles’ eyes must widen then, as Castiel sends him a reassuring smile, and Derek pats him on the shoulder, before he stands from the sofa.

“Wolves heal. I’ll be fine …”

“Ok fair enough.” Stiles watches as Dean and Derek gather another two beers, and he can’t hold back his exasperated sigh. “Guys, you may be a Hunter and an Alpha, but getting drunk is not going to help.”

“I don’t get drunk …” Dean and Derek say at the exact same time, before looking at each other with matching expressions of shock.

Castiel and Stiles share a look, before the young teenager almost burst a gut laughing, and falls back onto the sofa.

“It’s not that funny …” Dean grumbles, swigging his beer.

Cas cocks his head, and appraises the two men stood in the kitchen. “Well, you two are ironically very similar, considering …”

“Shut up.” Two gruff voices say at the same time.

Stiles stops laughing for a moment, only to glance up and see Dean and Derek looking at each other, disbelief apparent on their faces once again.

“Oh my god, you guys could be a double act …

Stiles breaks down laughing once again, before a pillow flies into his face.

"So two humans, an Angel and an Alpha walk into the woods looking for a dangerous, rogue and feral werewolf ... What could possibly go wrong, right?"

“Shut up Stiles.” Derek growls, but Stiles just sighs.

The young man was not at all intimidated by the Alpha. After all, there was no steering wheel around that he could use to whack Stiles’ skull on, and no door or wall to be thrown into, so he thought he was pretty safe; for now at least.

“Yeah ok, I’ll get right on that, as soon as I stop freaking out …”

Derek whirls around, staring down at Stiles with his eyes glowing a deep red. Stiles freezes, shocked for a moment, before Derek just lets out a long breath.

“You’ll be fine.”

Stiles frowns and opens his mouth, about to continue his tirade, when he suddenly realises that he does actually feel a little better; calmer even.

“Did you just do your Alpha mojo thing on me?”

Derek raises an eyebrow, his eyes beginning to fade to their usual shade. “Did it work?” The man asks, and Stiles notes the small tone of surprise.

“Yeah, kinda.”

“And you’re not freaking out any more?”

“Not that much-“

“Then yes.” Derek interrupts, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small smile.

Stiles’ mind goes into complete overdrive as he walks alongside Derek through the woods.

If the Alpha ‘powers’ worked on Stiles, did that mean he was part of Derek’s pack? Did Derek, like him? 

Was all the punching, growling, shoving … just friendly banter?

Stiles remembers the Alpha’s face when he appeared in the clearing, whilst Stiles had been injured. He had looked terrified. Then again, Stiles supposes anyone would be terrified if they came across a human who was busy holding his internal organs inside his body

So that showed that he cared, right? Or did it just work because …

“What?”

Stiles is immediately pulled out of his thoughts, and nearly walks into Derek who had stopped directly in front of him. He gulps, before shifting on his feet, trying to appear casual. “What?”

Derek actually looks heaven ward for a few seconds, as if he was asking the help of a deity to deal with this human. “Stiles, you reek of anxiety.”

Damn werewolf senses.

“Yeah, well, I’m a very anxious person.” The young man defends. “And we’re going against a rogue werewolf that just ripped me open. Give me a break …”

Derek clenches his jaw, and Stiles almost thinks that the Alpha looks slightly more pale.

The Alpha shakes his head, and Stiles can’t tell whether it was exasperation, or a disagreement. “No, it’s more than that.”

The two men stand opposite each other, highlighted by the slight orange glow from the rising son. It would be morning soon, and Derek had insisted that would be when the rogue would be most active. They needed to get going.

Stiles moves forward, but walks at a much slower pace than before. Was he really going to have a heart to heart with Derek Hale, the Sourwolf himself, just before going up against a feral rogue? Apparently, yes …

“I don’t like the plan.”

“Which part?” Derek replies, deadpan, but Stiles is less than amused.

“Ha ha, hilarious.” The young man mocks, “Trust you to develop a sense of humour just as we’re going to our imminent death.”

Derek sighs, and walks slightly closer to his companion, actually brushing his shoulder up against the human. “Stiles, we’re not going to die.”

“Speak for yourself …” Stiles mumbles, but he knows that Derek, with his super hearing, would be able to hear him.

“We’re not going to die.” The Alpha responds intensely, with his eyes burning blood red once again.

“I’ve almost died once on this trip.” Stiles replies nonchalantly, and worryingly conversationally. “You know, it’s totally true what they say. Your life really does flash before your eyes.”

“And?”

Stiles jumps slightly over a tree root, not wanting to actually fall and injure himself before the actual fight. “And what?”

Even though Stiles wasn’t looking at his werewolf companion, he knows that Derek is rolling his eyes at him.

“What did you see? Think? Feel?”

“Me and my Dad mostly.” Stiles responds with a small smile “Scott. Lydia … the pack.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s pretty dramatic. It’s like, everyone I care about …”

“I suppose.” Derek agrees, before looking out into the trees.

“Danny.”

“Danny? That human kid on the lacrosse team?”

“Yeah.” Stiles frowns then, and turns to look at his companion. “How …”

“Miguel remember.” Derek interrupts, before smiling widely.

“Oh right.” Stiles laughs, before sighing, day dreamingly “Yeah Danny. He’s cute …”

“So basically, you were thinking about people you found hot.”

Stiles winces, before avoiding yet another root. Someone really wanted him to fall on his face …

“Erm, yeah.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t see me.”

Stiles walks normally for a split second, about to continue to tell Derek about some other people he saw, weirdly including Peter, when his brain catches up the with conversation.

“WHAT?!”

Derek freezes, and watches as a few birds fly from a nearby tree. The two men stand deathly still, listening for any movement, and Stiles internally kicks himself for being so loud. He may as well be wearing a dinner bell …

“Stiles!” Derek hisses, but quietly. At least one of them had some sense. “Shut up!”

“How … you … you know … how …” Stiles stammers, and Derek actually has to reach out and pull him forward to get the young man walking again.

“Werewolves have excellent senses of smell Stiles.” Derek explains conversationally, and Stiles can feel his face burning.

“Oh god. Oh god …”

Derek releases Stiles’ arm, knowing that the man was now going to walk alongside him. “Calm down.”

“Calm down?! You calm down!” Stiles exclaims, flailing his arms around, and getting a raised eyebrow in response from Derek.

Stiles hated it when he did that, and for a very specific reason.

Derek seemed to realise this, as instead of responding, the Alpha just smiles.

“Oh god …” Stiles groans, covering his burning face with his hands.

Derek just shakes his head, and smiles.

Castiel looked over, and watched his friend as he ran his machete along the side of a tree. He appeared to simply be bored, but the Angel could hear his slightly elevated heartbeat, indicating that he was anything but.

With a simple flex of his wings, the Angel disappears and reappears next to the Hunter, who was not even the slightest bit surprised. Castiel wonders whether being with the Winchesters for so long had led them becoming used to his supernatural abilities.  

“How are you Dean?” The Angel asks sincerely, but Dean just scoffs.

“Not really the time Cas.”

Castiel nods, not really sure what, if anything, he should say in response, and so he settles on an uneasy silence.

Dean is the first to speak, moving and pointing his machete in the direction in which Stiles and Derek had headed. “What do you think the deal is with those two?” Dean asks casually, before lowering the machete, and beginning to stick it in the ground near his feet.

Castiel squints, and tilts his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, how do you think they got involved in all this?”

The Angel doesn’t need Dean to explain what he means by ‘all this’. The idea of a young man and his slightly older werewolf friend hunting a rogue was peculiar, but Dean and Castiel had been immersed in the supernatural world for so long, hardly anything could surprise them.

“Stiles spoke about his friend, a young man named Scott, who was bitten by a werewolf.” Castiel explains, and at that, Dean looks up from where he had been playing with his machete.

“Dead?”

“No, he was trained and assisted by Derek.” The Angel replies with a shake of his head “It’s how Stiles and Derek became … acquaintances.”

Dean smiles, no doubt amused by his friends phrasing, before resuming his activity with his weapon. He drops it just above the ground near his foot, then grabs it, and repeats. Castiel watches the action, somewhat hypnotised, all the while listening for any sound coming from the caves nearby.

“I don’t know if I should trust him.” Dean says suddenly, breaking the short silence.

“I don’t think you have to trust him Dean, but he is helping us hunt a dangerous werewolf.”

“What’s to say he’s not dangerous …” The Hunter asks quietly, and Cas wonders if it was a rhetorical question, or if he wanted a sincere response.

“Stiles said-“

“Cas, you don’t know anything about that kid.” Dean interrupts, frowning at his companion, before pointing an accusatory finger in his direction “Don’t get too chummy. Ok?”

The Angel shifts his stance awkwardly, before meeting Dean’s gaze with his serious deep blue eyes. The Hunter clenches his jaw.

“Is that what you feel? That, if you let yourself become friends with these people, it could …” Cas trails off, but he is sure that his companion understands his meaning.

“You don’t get chummy with monsters. S’all I’m saying.” Dean replies, throwing his hands in the air almost in a semblance of a shrug.

Pulling his machete from the ground, Dean sighs, and walks over to the far end of the large circle Stiles had drawn on the ground. The Hunter follows it, careful not to disturb the Ash, and checks for any holes.

“I’m a monster.”

Dean whirls around to his friend, unsure that he had heard him correctly.

“What?”

“Technically, I’m a supernatural creature, and we are friends.”

“That’s …” Dean cocks his head, and pulls his face into a grimace, almost as if Castiel had said the stupidest thing he had ever heard. “That’s different Cas.”

“How?” The Angel responds, before crossing his arms over his chest. Dean wonders if that was him mimicking his own actions.

“It’s you. You’ve saved my life.”

“And what if Derek saved your life?” Cas reasons, appearing calm and collected, when Dean wanted nothing more than to tell him to drop the subject “What would you think then?”

Dean opens his mouth, about to bite back a response, when he stops himself. He absent mindedly touches the mark on his arm, and Castiel immediately snaps his gaze to the small action.

“He doesn’t seem the type …” Dean murmurs, with a small smirk on his face.

Castiel sighs. “Dean.”

“Every instinct in my body is telling me that I should be focusing on him not this rogue.” The Hunter responds, louder, and angrier than before. “What’s to say that he isn’t the rogue? That this is all just some trick …”

“Stiles-“

“Stiles, what?” Dean snaps, interrupting his Angelic companion. Cas frowns, appearing about to respond, when his expression becomes blank, and he cocks his head. Dean frowns, immediately clutching his weapon slightly tighter. “Cas?”

“They’re heading this way.” The Angel explains, before frowning, almost as if he were concentrating. “Derek, Stiles, and something else.”

“Well, would you look at that …” Dean murmurs, moving over to his position at the head of the circle. “The Sourwolf actually isn’t the bad guy.”

Castiel just rolls his eyes.

Stiles gulps, and swears that that random owl was evil. Pure evil.

That was the second time it had randomly hooted, just as the fragile human had managed to calm himself down, and get his heartbeat to a regular rhythm. That wasn’t easy, considering he was currently werewolf bait.

“Derek!” Stiles calls, and his voice actually cracks.

The young man squints up at the slightly dark caves, trying to spot the Alpha. Suddenly, Stiles hears a small sigh, and Derek’s face emerges from one of the many small caves.

“Stay there Stiles, and keep your voice down.” Derek replies, annoyingly calmly.

Stiles nods jerkily, and swears he hears Derek sigh again.

“How am I supposed to be bait if the thing can’t even see me?”

“It’ll smell you Stiles. Now stand still …” Derek chastises, and Stiles, about to reply, notices that he was in fact bouncing, and had moved a few steps closer to where Derek was hiding.

“That’s not comforting.” Stiles mumbles.

“Stiles!”

“Right sorry. Standing still, looking delicious …”

The woods were beginning to grow lighter, being highlighted by the orange glow of the rising sun. It was annoying Stiles.

“You ok?” Derek asks quietly, and Stiles gulps.

“Yeah, I’m great. Just suddenly having flashbacks.”

“When it attacked you?”

Stiles can’t help but hear the genuine concern, and something else he couldn’t quite determine, in Derek’s voice. It obviously wasn’t a nice memory for him either.

“No, erm, Peter.”

“Peter?” Stiles notices that Derek sounds genuinely surprised, and so he nods, somewhat erratically, before trying to explain.

“Yeah. They’re kinda the same size. Claws, red eyes, the whole deal …”

“How much did it look like Peter?” Derek says suddenly, much louder, and Stiles notices his glowing eyes glaring in his direction.

“What?” Stiles squeaks, and instead of sighing, Derek actually growls.

“The rogue, the one who attacked you; how much did it look like Peter?”

“Erm, a lot. Like, hella a lot-“ Stiles stops suddenly, his heart beat doubling when he realises what Derek was thinking. “You don’t think …”

“No, it’s not Peter.”

Stiles lets out a long breath, but notices that Derek’s intense gaze hadn’t changed. “Then-“

“But it’s an Alpha. The rogue is an Alpha.”

The owl hoots again, but instead of jumping, Stiles barely hears it. His heart was hammering in his ears, but he could barely breathe.

“Oh … fuck.”

Stiles had never run so fast in his entire life.

Not when he was trying out for the lacrosse team, not when he was running away from a very confused and newly turned Scott, not even when his dad had found a stack of dirty magazines under his bed (they were Scott’s).

Now though, he couldn’t not run. He was running for his life.

It had been a simple plan, and Stiles was sure it was going to work. The only problem was, Stiles hadn’t really thought about it actually working.

The rogue had emerged, but completely blanked Derek.

He had taken one look at Stiles, and bolted.

Stiles thought that had been an excellent idea, and followed suit.

He’d already nearly been killed by the rogue, and didn’t want to repeat what had happened before. He needed to carry on with the plan, and that meant trapping the rogue.

The young man bursts into the small clearing, spotting the mountain ash circle, and Dean stood nearby. He doesn’t even pause to think, before running directly into the centre of the circle, before turning to face the rogue.

It appears almost immediately after, growling and snapping at Stiles, and completely ignoring the human stood nearby.

Stiles, and Dean, must know that he could smell him, but the giant wolf didn’t seem to be the least bit interested.

Stiles takes a step backwards slowly, and the wolf begins to stalk forwards, its teeth baring in warning.

Derek appears then, and Stiles hears Dean call a warning to the Alpha to stay still. The rogue was completely fixed on Stiles, and they needed to use that as an advantage.

The rogue enters the circle, stepping through the small gap, and making its way closer to the young, shaking human stood in the centre.

Now all Stiles needed to do, was get behind it, and close the gap.

Just as he makes to move near the side of the circle, and rogue jumps forward, and lands directly in front of Stiles.

“Stiles, move!” Derek calls, his shifted face glaring in his direction.

He had entered the circle as well, but the rogue didn’t care. He wanted Stiles.

“Move!” Derek calls again, his voice cracking.

Stiles stays completely still.

“Stiles!”

“Don’t!” Another voice calls back, and Stiles recognises it as Dean. “Let him …”

Stiles doesn’t understand what Dean was trying to say, but obviously Derek does, as he immediately backs off.

Dean cocks his gun, and the rogue growls, but doesn’t move it’s clouded and bloody red eyes away from Stiles’ face.

All three of them, Derek, Stiles and the rogue, were stood in the circle now,. The rogue was just a metre or so away from Stiles, and Derek was stood near the boundary, watching with wide eyes.

The young human takes a small step backwards, and the rogue growls again, fiercely.

Stiles was stuck. If he couldn’t get behind it, then he needed to get outside the boundary to close it, but if he moved backwards, the thing would lunge, and it was much faster than he was.

Derek seemed to realise the dilemma as Stiles did, as he immediately growls, and tries to pull the creatures attention away. It doesn’t work.

“Stay still Stiles.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Stiles breathes back to Dean, as Derek continues to growl and pace.

They needed a distraction. Something to immediately get the rogues attention.

“Shift.” Stiles says towards Derek, and the rogue snaps, but doesn’t move forward.

“What?”

“It’s going for me because it sees me as the biggest threat. Shift.”

Dean remains silent, looking between Derek, Stiles, and the giant rogue. Derek looks guilty towards Stiles, and shakily breathes out.

“I can’t …”

“Derek, I’m going to die” Stiles snaps back, but Derek was already shaking his head.

“No. No you’re not.”

Suddenly, Derek drops to the ground, and begins to grunt in pain.

“C’mon …” Stiles mumbles under his breath, noticing the rogues eyes drifting slightly to the side, as if it were tempted to turn around.

Dean loads his gun again, aiming at the rogue, but watching Derek slightly out of the corner of his eye, unable to tear his gaze away.

Clearly he had never seen an Alpha shift into a full wolf before.

Neither had Stiles, but he was a bit preoccupied …

The rogue though, suddenly appears to lose interest, and begins to take another slow step forwards.

Just as Stiles closes his eyes, he hears Derek growl. Not a deep, gruff growl. This one was completely animalistic. Wolf like.

The rogue turns, quickly looking behind itself, where Derek, a large black wolf, was standing.

Stiles almost thinks that the animals eyes look smug.

“Now Cas!”

Stiles moves backwards, reaching out a hand so that the Angel could grab him, and before the rogue could react, he finds himself outside the circle.

In one smooth motion, Stiles collects the small satchel in his pocket and drops the mountain ash over the small gap in the circle. He closes his eyes, wishing it to seal.

It does.

“Thank god …” Stiles breathes, nodding to Cas in thanks.

The Angel couldn’t have appeared before, Stiles had known that. His, supernatural-ness for lack of a better word, would have completely distracted the rogue, and they needed it to have been focused entirely on Stiles and Derek.

Well, that had worked a little too well.

Dean quickly looks over towards where Stiles and Cas were standing, and after spotting that the circle of mountain ash was closed, the hunter breathes out a sigh of relief.

Derek and the rogue were still growling and snapping at each other, and neither werewolf had made a move to attack. It was now or never.

Dean holds up his pistol, and aims …

“Don’t shoot! You could hit Derek!” Stiles exclaims, immediately jogging over to stand next to Dean.

The rogue, hearing Stiles’ raised voice, turns suddenly.

Derek uses his distraction to his immediate advantage, and lunges.

The large black wolf manages to grab the rogue by the neck, and pulls violently, making it bleed, and cry out.

Suddenly, Derek moves back, and begins to growl deeply. The rogue shakes his head, almost as if it were clearing it, and staggers backwards slightly.

“What is he doing?” Dean asks Stiles, still holding his gun up, and towards the two trapped and circling werewolves.

“Trying to get him to submit, or change back …” Stiles explains, his shaking voice showing his anxiety.

Castiel, Dean and Stiles stand silently outside the mountain ash circle, watching the two wolfs circling each other, and hearing Derek’s deep growls.

“It’s not going to submit …” Stiles says suddenly.

Before Dean can respond, the rogue howls, so loudly and brokenly that Stiles almost covers his ears.

Derek lunges, the rogue lunges, and they fight …

It is brutal, bloody … and yet, Stiles can’t tear his eyes away.

“Cas, distact it!” Dean calls, and the Angel nods, before he disappears.

Stiles meanwhile, was frozen.

“Breathe kid. Don’t freak out on me …” Dean growls, before reaching out and roughly pulling Stiles further away from the circle of ash.

Castiel was appearing at the edge of the circle, and when the rogue turned and lunged for him, Derek would use its distraction to his advantage, and attack.

Stiles suddenly snaps out of his head when he hears the tell-tale click of a gun being loaded.

He turns, and sees Dean stood next to him, holding a fully loaded shotgun.

Seeing Stiles’ expression, Dean nods over to the circle, where a bloody and ragged rogue was being pinned to the ground by Derek, whilst Castiel quickly moved forward to heal a huge wound on Derek’s shoulder.

“He might not win, and we have to be ready.”

Stiles just nods, barley listening.

Suddenly, as Stiles was about to move forward, the rogue manages to throw Derek off, and heads straight for the nearby Angel.

“CAS!”

Stiles never thought Dean could sound so … scared.

The Angel doesn’t move, or even try to move, and Stiles realises why. Derek jumps, and knocks the rogue to the ground, clamping his teeth around its jaw.

There is a crack, and then it is over. Or at least, Stiles hopes it is over.

Dean moves quickly, and marches over to the circle. Castiel suddenly appears beside Stiles, and he is grateful for the company. His legs feel worryingly shaky.

“Is it dead?” Stiles asks Castiel, not wanting to look over towards the two huge wolves. He hates the way his voice shakes.

“Yes.” The Angel replies. “We ne-“

Castiel stops in the middle of his word, and Stiles frowns at his companion, about to ask him what was wrong, when he follows his gaze.

Derek was still trapped in the mountain ash circle, and was still a wolf.

Dean had moved silently, and was now stood directly in front of the Alpha.

Dean was holding a shotgun directly towards Derek’s face.

“Dean?”

Castiel doesn’t make a move towards his friend, but just watches.

Stiles walks forward, but Derek quickly turns to look at him with his burning red eyes, and growls. Stiles knew that sound. That was a command. He wanted him to stay still.

“What are you doing?” The young man asks Dean.

The hunter doesn’t move, and doesn’t lower his gun. His piercing gaze remains focused on Derek, and slowly, the man moves his finger over the guns trigger.

Stiles’ heart jumps into his throat, and he immediately moves forward. “Derek …”

“Stay back Stiles.”

Stiles ignores the warning from the Angel, and just continues moving quickly towards the circle of mountain ash.

Cas is suddenly behind Stiles, holding him firmly in place.

“What? No, I need too …” Stiles tries to shrug the Angels hand from his shoulder, but the man was strong. Really strong. “Cas, get off!”

“Wait Stiles.” Castiel breathes back quietly, never taking his eyes away from Dean.

The Hunter was still stood in the same position, glaring at Derek, and holding the shotgun directly in front of the Alpha’s face.

“Don’t do this Dean.”

Stiles wants to say something a little stronger to the hunter, but he lets Castiel do the talking. After all, he didn’t think Derek would appreciate it if Stiles’ smart mouth got him shot …

“You’re stronger than this Dean.” Castiel continues, still holding onto Stiles.

Dean lets out a shaky breath, and the gun wavers slightly.

“Don’t kill him …” Stiles adds, so quietly that he doesn’t think that Dean would even here him. Apparently he does.

Almost as if the man had been pulled from a trance, Dean quickly lowers the gun, and whirls around to face Stiles and Cas.

He smiles a watery smile, and it is only then that Stiles notices the hunter had unshed tears in his eyes.

“Just proving a point.” Dean jokes, although Stiles fails to see the funny side.

Castiel lets out a breath, before releasing Stiles’ arms.

“What, that you’re a douchebag …” Stiles growls.

The young man immediately stalks forward, glaring at Dean for good measure, before waving his hand casually.

The mountain ash doesn’t gently move away, or even part like a light breeze had hit it.

It explodes.

Stiles is thrown backwards, unable to keep his eyes on anyone else, but he hears Cas call out for Dean, and the deep growl of Derek from a small distance away …

“Everyone alive?” Dean asks, grunting as he stands.

Stiles turns his head to the side, and spits out a dead leaf that had managed to find itself inside his mouth. “Just.”

“You’re fine Stiles.” A deep, and very familiar voice says.

Stiles looks up to see Derek crouched over the top of him, and he can’t help but smile.

“Is that supposed to comfort me, or you?” The young human murmurs, before taking Derek’s offered hand to help him stand.

“Both.” The Alpha replies, and his voice sounds strained.

Stiles idly wonders if it was all the growling.

“Are you ok?” The young man asks, as he dusts some leaves, dirt and what he thinks is mountain ash from his clothes.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Stiles straightens, and smirks, before gesturing to the long item of clothing covering Derek’s naked form. “Nice coat.”

Derek smiles, and is it so wide and so pleased, that Stiles actually forgets to breathe for a second. Derek looks concerned, before he reaches out, and places a hand on Stiles shoulder.

“What the hell happened?!”

Derek drops his hand like Stiles had burned him, and he silently curses Dean Winchester.

“Stiles was mad.” Derek replies simply, with a shrug, sounding much too casual for Stiles’ taste.

“Hell yeah I was mad!” Stiles explodes, whirling to confront Dean, who was stood next to Cas. He looked odd without his coat …

“Stiles-“

“You! You were going to kill him!” Stiles continues, pointing a finger at Dean.

The Hunter turns to Cas, then Derek, before looking back to the young man with a small smile.

“Sorry?”

“Sorry!”

“Stiles!” Derek interrupts loudly, immediately getting Stiles’ attention. He moves forward, placing his two large hand son his companion’s shoulders. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Stiles asks with a raised eyebrow, ignoring the murmuring from Dean.

“Yes.”

“You positive?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “Yes.”

“Because …”

Ignoring Dean and Castiel nearby, Derek suddenly leans forward, and rubs his forehead against Stiles’. He breathes out a ragged breath, and closes his eyes.

“Shut up.”

Stiles can’t help but feel like that ruined the moment, but he still can’t hold back his goofy smile.

“Ok.” He replies, before catching Dean release Cas from a hug out of the corner of his eye.

Stiles and Derek sit on the floor of the cabin, sharing a blanket, and looking up at Dean and Castiel who were sat next to each other on the dusty sofa.

Empty bean cans, soup cans, bags of chips and beer bottles littered the table, and now the men had moved onto coffee. It was probably a bad idea, considering it was almost midnight, but it didn’t seem like any of them would be getting any sleep.

“So, apparently I’m Gandalf, and Derek is Jacob.” Stiles announces to the room.

Castiel just looks confused, but Dean cocks his head, almost appearing to be appraising the idea.

“Jacob?” Derek asks from next to Stiles, and the young man sighs. 

“Yeah, you know, Jacob.” Derek looks blank, and Stiles raises an eyebrow, waiting. When the Alpha continues to look blank, Stiles sighs, before continuing. “Twilight?”

“Rule number one Stiles, no Twilight references.” Dean says suddenly and gruffly from the sofa, before taking a long drink of coffee.

“You have made that reference before Dean.”

“Anymore.” Dean reiterates, earning himself an amused look from Castiel. Stiles hides his smile into his coffee mug. “No Twilight references anymore.”

“Fair enough.” Stiles agrees, before he frowns, and tilts his head. “What about Buffy?”

“That’s vampires Stiles, not werewolves.” Derek says, before taking a drink from his own coffee mug. It was black and sugarless, of course.

“Still counts dude! It’s all, supernaturally.” Stiles waves his hands at the last word, and enjoys the laugh that it earns from Derek. Castiel was smiling as well, but Dean was looking at him strangely “What?” Stiles questions, warily.

“Nothing.” Dean smiles, and shakes his head. “I just know someone I think you would get on with really well.”

“Who?” Stiles asks, shifting the blanket covering his and Derek’s legs.

“Our friend Charlie. Huge nerd.”

“I’m not a nerd.” Stiles immediately replies, defensive. Derek scoffs into his mug. “I’m not!”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Do you like Star Wars?” The hunter asks, and that immediately has Stiles’ attention.

“Originals or Prequels? Because honestly, even I think the prequels are terrible. Of course, I still saw them, because you ha-mph“ Stile’s voice is muffled when Derek’s large, and very warm hand covers his mouth, and he frowns towards the smirking man sat next to him.

“Thank you.” Dean says to Derek, with an overdramatic sigh of relief.

“Nerd.” Derek breathes quietly to Stiles, before he winks and gently takes his hand away.

Stiles definitely doesn’t blush. Nope. Definitely doesn’t.

The next morning, Stiles feels like he went head to head with Godzilla, and lost. Badly.

Every single muscle in his body aches, and he wasn’t even sure he had that many muscles.

The cabin is empty, but Stiles doesn’t wonder where any one else was, as he can hear voices, and weirdly whistling, from outside.

Stiles groans as he throws off the blanket covering his body, and slowly sits up from the small sofa.

“I can –“

Stiles flails, and falls on the floor. Ouch.

“I apologise,” Cas says immediately, moving forward to help the awkward pile of limbs clamber up from the cold and dusty floor. “I heard you wake. You sounded like you were in pain.”

“It’s no problem Cas.” Stiles replies, and quickly, noticing the Angels worried expression. “Just feel a bit … achy.”

Castiel nods, very seriously, as if these words from Stiles had been some sort of direct order. The Angel reaches out a hand, and slowly places it on the young man’s shoulder. Instantly, Stiles feels his muscles relax, like he had just had a long soak in a warm bath. He sighs at the heavenly feeling, and smiles goofily.

“Thanks …”

Castiel smiles, and removes his hand. “You are welcome. I have to get back to packing the car. Dean and Derek are stood outside.”

Without another word, Cas disappears, leaving a very dishevelled, but very relaxed Stiles.

“Breakfast.” The young man says to himself, and claps his hands together, before moving to try and find something to eat.

“Thanks.” Derek murmurs as Dean passes him a beer.

Dean nods in response, before popping the cap from his own beer. The man looked filthy, but not at all tired. Derek idly wondered if the man had done this before, but then thinks, of course he has. He was a hunter, burying a body must just be another afternoon.

Derek takes a long drink, and stops for a minute to just lean back against the side of the deep ditch, and relax. It wasn’t the most normal thing to do, considering what the two men were currently doing, but hey, Derek was thirsty.

“You feeling ok?” Dean asks conversationally, stood over Derek and looking down into the ditch.

Derek can’t help but raise an eyebrow, and at least Dean has the mind set to shrug, realising how weird his concern was.

Although, Derek does answer with a simple, “I’m fine.”

“You ever done that before?”

Derek doesn’t need to ask what Dean means, and just shakes his head. “Nope.”

“You’re not really the talking kind huh?”

“No.”

Dean laughs, before turning, and walking away from the ditch and Derek.

The Alpha picks up his shovel (he had almost pushed Dean in the ditch when he hunter asked if he could just dig with his claws) and jumps out of the deep hole they two men had made in the forest ground.

Derek stifles a smile when he spots Dean struggling to move the massive corpse of the rogue, and just clears his throat when he stands behind him, and gestures towards the giant wolf.

“Hey, be my guest.”

With one easy movement, Derek picks up the rogue, and throws it over his shoulder. It was very heavy, and if he wasn’t secretly pleased at the annoyance he was causing Dean, he may have asked the Hunter for some help.

“You regret it?” Dean asks, just as Derek lowers, or more like throws, the body into the ditch.

Derek shakes his head. “He’s still a wolf.” Dean looks confused, and Derek can’t help but sigh. “When werewolves dies, we change back to our human form. I know it may be hard to believe, but we are more human than wolf.”

“But not this guy.” Dean replies, nodding down to the rogue.

“No, he was completely feral. I don’t think he even could change back.”

Dean nods, and stays silent for a few seconds, just watching Derek dust some dirt and leaves from his t-shirt.

“You ever kill anyone before?”

“My Uncle.”

Derek doesn’t see Dean’s expression, but he senses the shock, and slight surprise radiating from him. “Jesus.”

“He was an Alpha, like this one.” Derek gestures down to the rogue, and can’t help but grimace. “Huge, and crazy.”

Dean raises an eyebrow, “So, does the whole ‘big ass crazy wolf’ thing run in the family?”

“My point is …” Derek says gruffly, effectively ending that question. “I know when killing is necessary because sometimes, it just is.”

Dean just whistles, before picking up a shovel, and beginning to cover the ditch. Derek doesn’t mention that Peter actually came back to life, he figured that was a conversation for another time, not when they were burying a werewolf.

Stiles waits outside the cabin, watching Castiel clear up the area. The Angel would pick up something, disappear, and then appear again. He was the best cleaning service ever. Stiles had no doubt that he was disappearing to a recycling bin or something. He just seemed like that kind of guy.

Just as Castiel disappears again, Stiles spots Derek and Dean walking back towards the camp, holding two shovels, and looking absolutely filthy.

“Everything ok?” Stiles asks Derek as he approaches the cabins.

He knew what they had been doing, but he really didn’t want to think about it.

Dean smiles at the young man in greeting, and Derek nods his head, before dropping his shovel near the doorway.  

“Yeah Stiles, everything’s fine.”

“Ok good. That’s good.”

Stiles stands for a few seconds, awkwardly just looking between the two men.

Dean smiles again, although this time, it looks more like a smirk.  

“Hey Stiles, I’m gonna talk to Sourwolf-“

“Don’t call me that.” Derek interrupts Dean, but the tone of his voice sounds more like fond annoyance than a genuine threat.

“-for a sec.” Dean continues, not sounding the least bit intimated “Do you wanna say bye to Cas?”

Stiles frowns for a second. Say goodbye? Shit, he hadn’t even thought about that.

“Sure.” Stiles replies, nodding his head jerkily.

Castiel was stood next to the large black car that Stiles knew now belonged to Dean, and was packing some things into the boot. He looks up as Stiles approaches, and immediately stops his task to face and smile at the young man.

“Hey Cas.”

“Stiles.” Castiel replies as a greeting. Suddenly the Angel frowns, and cocks his head. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” Stiles awkwardly kicks at the ground, turning up a small amount of dirt and dead leaves. He smacks his lips together, and tries to calm himself down. Why was this so hard? “Thanks for, you know, saving my life.” The young man mumbles, and Castiel smiles in response.

“You’re welcome.”

Looking up from the ground, Stiles smiles in return, before crossing his arms over his chest.

“So, you’re an Angel huh?”

Castiel frowns, confused for a moment at the question, but his companion was still smiling. “I thought that was already agreed upon.”

“Yeah I know.” Stiles replies, nodding, and almost rolling his eyes “It’s just, kinda awesome.”

The Angel smiles again, even wider and more brightly than before. “Thank you.” He replies sincerely. “What you did, that was also, ‘kinda awesome’.”

Stiles smirks for a second, before his face breaks out into a genuine smile, and he laughs, so loudly that Dean and Derek turn to look over towards the two men to check what was going on.

“Thanks Cas.” Stiles replies, after his laughter had died down.

Castiel inclines in his head, accepting the thanks, before the Angel suddenly grows serious. He moves forward, closer to Stiles, and lowers his voice.

“Should you ever need any assistance, just …”

“Pray, I know.” Stiles interrupts, and Castiel looks pleased “And don’t worry man, I will.”

“What you did back there …”

Dean scoffs, and quickly glances over towards Cas and Stiles, trying to ignore the man’s sincere gaze.

“Yeah, me being the big hero?”

“You had me trapped.” Derek replies, before following Deans line of vision over to the Angel and the human teen. “Would’ve been easy enough to kill me.”

Dean nods his head, and crosses his arms over his chest. “True but …” He nods back over to Stiles, who was laughing loudly, whilst Cas looked pleased at something. “Would’ve been a shame to kill you in front of him.”

Derek turns back to Dean, and the hunter tries to ignore the way he was looking at him, like he was, pleased.

“So, you did it for Stiles?”

“He’s a good kid, and you’re not entirely terrible.” Derek smiles, and Dean growls, before turning and heading into the cabin. “Shut up.”

“Thank you.”

Dean stops, but doesn’t turn around.

“Don’t mention it.” The Hunter replies, and before Derek can say anything else, he holds up a hand. “No, really don’t. I don’t want anybody giving me shit for helping you out.”

“You’re other friend’s a wolf too. Not like me, but …”

At that Dean whirls around, his eyes wide. “How in the he-“ Derek shrugs, before quickly nodding his head over towards the two figures stood next to the Impala. “Cas!”

The Angel takes one look at Dean’s face, and disappears. Stiles just laughs.

You have three new messages.

*Click*

Message one.

“Hey Dean, it’s Sam. I called Garth the other day and he hadn’t heard anything about these werewolves either. He thinks like Cas does, that they’re some new version. Or old version, I dunno. He was wondering if you could pass on Derek’s number, so they could arrange a meeting. You should’ve heard Garth man, he was so excited about this …”

*Click*

Message deleted. Message two.

“Hey Dean, it’s Sam again. I don’t remember how long you and Cas said we’re going to be, but don’t worry if you want to hang on a couple of days, me and Charlie are having a great time without you guys.

Hell yeah we are!

Anyway, Stiles called for you again, and Charlie ended up speaking to him for about an hour. I have no idea what they were talking about …

Star Wars! Sammy c’mon, you kn-

Yeah so, he and Derek are going to send us their bestiary. Stiles had a load of notes about werewolves and stuff, so I’ll give it a read and add it to the archives. Oh, and Derek said hi, and that you owe him a beer.”

*Click*

Message deleted. Message three.

“Hey Van Helsing! It’s Stiles … Shut up Derek, hang on … No don’t …

Hey Dean, it’s us. Just wanted to say that we’re up with meeting you, Cas and Garth. Invite your brother two, Stiles wants to meet him.

Derek!

We’ll be free on the weekend, and can drive up to the Bunker if that’s ok.

Gimme the phone … Yeah so, we’ll be up on the weekend. I’m going to bring some more notes for your brother, and I want to see all the archive-y stuff as well. No if, no buts, no butter-

I apologise for him Dean. He’s had a cup of coffee. Anyway, we’ll see you on the weekend. Oh, and tell Cas thanks for coming to help out the other week. We were kinda in a bad situation, and he saved our asses. We appreciate man. So thanks.

Holy crap … Dean, Derek just said thanks! HE SAID THANKS!

Shut up Stil-”

Message saved. You have no new messages.

The End