Keeping Stiles safe had always been a priority, protect the human, protect the weakest member of the pack, that was how he used to think, but things had started changing before the witches cast their spell. Derek realised he no longer thought of Stiles as weak, even if he still wanted to protect him. The boy was everything good and pure that the world had to offer, and he was protecting that, wanting to keep the boys soul in tact. He might not have had the eyes of a wolf, but if he did, Derek would of done anything to keep them golden.
Now it was less of a priority, and more of a deep seeded need. He couldn’t lose Stiles, he couldn’t bare to think about it. He’d die without his anchor and his mate. He’d seen what losing his family had done to Peter, what burning and watching them all die had done, and knew now why he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t think he’d be able to stop if Stiles ever got hurt. He’d hunt them down, he’d slaughter everyone involved, or he’d die trying. He understood that now, now he’d found a mate, now he’d let someone in.
His head seemed to be swimming, but he could still hear Stiles’ heartbeat, how it seemed to grow faster as he came in to view, worried about him. It helped him focus, but he couldn’t afford the distraction, these witches needed to die, he needed to know they weren’t going to lose their memories again, not when he’d finally found someone, found love.
He could hear cluttering, thuds and thumps of fighting and he tried to focus, scrunching up his eyes as he tired to force himself to see, to look at Stiles as he calls to him. He avoids the fight Scott seems tangled in, heading to his boyfriend, just as the human stumbles in front of him.
His brows arch, giving him that look, the ‘do I fucking look okay?’ look, but then remembers all they’ve been through and sighs “I’ll be fine. I’m healing.” he said with a nod to the teen, trying to be reassuring before he looked to Scott. “Basement… gimme a second!” he rested his back against the wall, closing his eyes before his hand went to reach for Stiles’ forearm, giving a small squeeze.
“Just a little dizzy.” he assured him and smiled before taking a breath and pushing himself from the wall with a nod to Scott before both wolves dove at the witches, Derek aiming for the basement door as he did so, knocking it open as he and the witch tumbled down wooden stairs and into a room he wouldn’t of recognised even if he could see it properly. It was dark, little lights he took as candles, and it stank, incense probably, but whatever it was, it made him want to sneeze, too strong for any wolf to take for long.
It was probably a defensive tactic, and if Derek had any sense, he’d be back up those stairs with the others, but he wasn’t. He was still on top of the other witch and his claws swung down, ripping it’s throat out in an instant before his attention went to the other person in the room, an older looking woman, or a man with long dark hair, seen as everything was blurry to him now. He swallowed as he pushed himself to stand, and couldn’t help but think how much this blob looked like his mother. Was that some sort of trick? “Stiles?” he shouted up the stairs “You guys okay up there?”
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