Chapter Text
Derek fought against Deucalion's grip. The man had his hand tight around Derek's neck, nails deep in his flesh. It was just the matter of seconds before he ripped his throat out.
"You don't deserve him," the older man said, "You don't deserve him whispering your name while I touch him"
Derek tried not to think about that. About Deucalion being that close to Stiles. That man already took enough from him.
"And you do? You tortured him, his friends, you think everyone else forgot about that?" Derek couldn't go without knowing the truth, "What did you do to him, hm?Beat him till he forgot about what you did? You can't fool me, tell me!"
Deucalion laughed at that. Then with all the casualty he leaned into Derek's face and whispered,
"He came to me."
Derek was seeing red. The rage overflowed every common sense he had left in his body. The man was lying. Stiles would have never. He wouldn't have betrayed him like that. He was getting ready to rip older mans throat, even if it'd meant tearing his own in the process, when he heard him.
"D, stop!"
Was he protecting Deucalion now? Why should he not end him here?
"D, let him go right now!"
And with that, Derek dropped to the ground, Deucalion letting go of his grip. It took him few seconds to realise that Stiles wasn't talking to him. Those words were directed to Deucalion. Stiles looked at Derek with pleading eyes, as if he knew. As if he knew what this did to him.
Deucalion turned to walk away, only to stop few metres away, with his back still turned.
"He doesn't deserve you, love" he turned his head to look at Stiles, "you know where I'm staying."
And with that, he left. Leaving Stiles and Derek in the dark alley, alone with their thoughts.
Stiles dropped his head, and for the first time since Derek met him, not knowing what to say apparently.
Derek felt drained, both emotionally and physically. He got up to his feet and left, leaving Stiles alone. Stiles could take care of himself, Derek thought, and even if anything came after him, he'd end up fucking it.