theduff | [For Derek]

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It's not like I'm an idiot, you know.

I may have grown up in the suburbs, but I'm aware of my surroundings all the time, especially during the night. And I have a can of mace on my key chain -- which, yes, I know how to use.

So I'm not completely helpless.

I just thought I could get through the park before the sun went down, but apparently it doesn't even take full nightfall for assholes to come out of the woodwork. There was a small group of other teens on the path in front of me, and I hadn't even lost sight of them around a bend ahead before this guy asks for spare change.

And then when I tell him I don't have any (we're in a digital age, why would I even have any cash?), he pulls up in front of me, trying to make me stop. I try to play nice, say excuse me and try to walk around him, but no. Nooooo, the asshole has to grab my arm and suddenly nice isn't an option anymore and my heart starts racing, my throat closes up, and my hands start to shake.

"Give me your money," he says, and I'm scared as hell, but also? Kind of pissed off. Who the fuck does this guy think he is? Just because I'm small and alone, he thinks he can do this? No. Fuck him.

"Get off me!" I'm on the verge of screaming, and I only fumble with my keys briefly before the mace can is in my hand. In one go I somehow break his grip and stumble back, putting space between us, my hand outstretched with the mace pointing at him.

"Get the fuck away from me," I yell, hoping someone can hear me, still moving backward and putting more space between us until I can turn around and run.

Only he's pissed now, and he growls something about me being a bitch and when he starts toward me, his long legs covering more ground than mine can, I push the nozzle down, close my eyes, and spray.

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What could make this entire experience that much more terrifying?

A fucking wolf.

This huge black wolf just bounds out of the trees out of nowhere and jumps the guy, leaving me screaming as I stumble back and eventually fall right on my ass. It hurts, I've dropped my keys and the mace, I'm pretty sure my left arm is scraped up, and, yeah, there's a giant goddamn wolf.

I'm sad to say that any little amount of bravery I had melts away in the face of the wolf. Who wouldn't nearly pee themselves when faced with a predator that can rip your throat out? I've got to move, run, do something.

Except the wolf looks at me and then back at the guy and then just kinda...shakes its head and growls.

I let out an undignified whine as I reach out, feeling for the mace. It's not bear mace, but maybe it'll work.

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Derek hears the rattle of Bianca's keys and his ears perk up from where they were flattened against his head. He stops snarling and hops off of the guy, who immediately goes running off, because the last thing he wants his a lungful of pepper spray. He comes up and sits up on his back paws just in time to smack the keys out of Bianca's hand with a massive front paw, and then he glowers at her as he settles back down on his feet and shakes out his fur.

Bianca is understandably ruffled, but Derek isn't going to hurt her. And he'll show her why, but not in the middle of the park. He gently closes his teeth over the edge of her sleeve and starts tugging her insistently towards the trees.

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What the fuck?

I watch the mace go flying out of my hand because the wolf -- THE WOLF -- batted it away.

"What the fuck?" My voice comes out in a shriek, one that's almost painful to my own ears. I can't believe this is happening. It all has to be some weird fever dream, maybe I walked into Narnia or something in the park. I don't know, what the hell else can explain the fact that this wolf isn't trying to rip me apart right now.

Somehow I think the wolf wants me to follow it, and I know it won't be as easy (...ish) to get away from it as I got away from the mugger.

I tug my arm anyway, desperation behind the move because I know even if I get free, there's no way I can outrun the thing.

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Derek rolls his eyes as best he can in this form and spits out her sleeve, huffing indignantly and circling around behind her. He headbutts her lightly in the lower back, nudging her closer to the trees and letting out a soft bark.

They're almost there, and Derek passes her to take a bounding leap between two trees, sitting back on his haunches and looking at Bianca expectantly, ears perked up as his tongue lolls out of his mouth in the wolfish approximation of a grin. He jerks his head back, gesturing her towards him, and then lets out another bark, this one more expectant.

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Why do I get the feeling the wolf is talking to me?

I'm going crazy. That's the only explanation for what's happening right now; I really am in a coma and this is all a weird dream. A really fucking weird dream.

I stand there and stare at it, reminded of some of the mannerisms our old dog used to have. Like how when he smiled it looked like he was grimacing. Or the way he'd bark once and look at me when he wanted to play.

"Okay," I say, hesitant and unsure of what to do. "This is topping my list of strangest and most terrifying encounters."

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Derek outs out an amused huff and then looks at her for a long moment, trying to decide just how much she'll freak out before he just decides to hell with it.

He lets the shift overcome him, front paws rising off of the ground until he's back on two legs, chest heaving slightly as he looks at Bianca with an amused smirk, raising one eyebrow. "I bet it just got stranger. Hey Bianca."

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Nope.

Nope, nope, noooooope.

I scream, because what the hell else am I supposed to do when a wolf morphs right in front of me and becomes Derek? I'm not a brain dead Twilight heroine, I don't accept it immediately because in my reality wolves don't fucking turn into people. That's what movies and books and television are for!

"Derek, what the fuck?" I'm yelling now, adrenaline fueling my fear and relief and confusion, each emotion battling one another until I feel like I want to throw up or pass out or just give up and lie down and let the earth swallow me whole.

I'm probably being melodramatic.

"You're naked! Why are you naked! Why were you a wolf?"

Stupid question, Bianca.

"Oh my fucking GOD, are you a werewolf?"

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Okay, Derek probably shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he is. But he totally is. He's laughing and then when she finally seems to get it, he nods and takes a step forward, eyes flaring red as he watches her.

"Yes, Bianca. I'm a werewolf." He holds up a hand and extends his claws, wiggling his fingers. "And I totally just saved your ass."

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He's laughing at me! Here I am, trying to deal with this reality-shattering (and kind of awesome, I have to admit) news, and Derek is laughing at me. I'm sure when I think back on this in the future I'd laugh at myself too, if I weren't so mortified about the fact that I just saw Derek's penis.

I also saw his eyes go red for a second and his hand is all clawed out like it's no big deal, but he's all hairy chest and abs and practically swinging dong right in front of me, and that's kinda hard to ignore.

I try my best, though.

"It would have been nice to know I was about to become a wolf meal," I tell him even as I stare at his hand, my own reaching out to touch one of the claws.

Jesus. He's a fucking werewolf.

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"But you weren't about to become a werewolf meal," Derek tells her, amused and completely unconcerned with his nudity. "I'm not even hungry."

She reaches out and touches his claws fearlessly and he smiles, holding his hand still and letting her do what she wants. "You seem to be coming to terms with this pretty quickly."

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I make a face at him for joking about eating me, and I briefly wonder if he's ever actually eaten any humans while in wolf form. Probably not if he was so weirdly human when he was bossing me around while a wolf.

Derek was a wolf. A fucking werewolf. Werewolves are real.

"Oh, I'm totally freaking out here, you just can't see it," I tell him, letting go of his hand to gesture to my face. "The only thing keep me from running away screaming is that it's you."

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"I was kidding," Derek tells her, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "I don't eat people, Bianca. Jesus."

He smiles indulgently at her and hooks his thumb over his shoulder, taking a step backwards into the moonlight. "Well, if you trust this werewolf enough to follow him into the woods, I'll tell you all about it. You seem like the question having type."

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"I didn't know that," I tell him defensively, but let it go. It is kind of offensive to ask, I guess.

"I have so many questions," I say, starting to follow him and keeping my eyes very much above his chest to avoid any other scandalous peeks. "So very many."

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Derek can't help but to smile, because she sort of reminds him of Stiles again. But it's in a good way, one that makes him feel amused and happy, instead of reminding him what he's lost. It says something about the type of people that he's drawn to, more than anything.

"Well, come on, Little Red." He turns around and heads into the trees, showing off the triskele tattooed between his shoulder blades and the strong curve of his ass. He can't help but to smirk a little, remembering how determinedly Bianca's gaze was fixed on his face. "I live back here, and don't worry. I'll even put on some pants."

From:

"Pants would be acceptable," I tell him, and yeah, I get a glance of his ass. It's right there and kinda hard to miss.

"What's the tattoo?" I ask. It twigs something in my memory, like I've seen it somewhere before but can't quite place it.

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Once they get deeper into the trees and the light from the moon gets dimmer, Derek slows and falls into step with her, nudging her in the right direction. She asks about his tattoo and he swallows hard, feeling a slight shiver between his shoulder blades.

"It's a triskele," Derek explains, voice a lot more serious and deep than it was a moment ago. "It was my pack's symbol. I got it for my family when I lived in New York."

Sometimes it still surprises him, just how open he's become here. He so easily shares information that he would have kept so guarded back home. In Darrow, it doesn't seem like there's much of a point. Everyone here has their own problems. Their own secrets. Derek being a wolf doesn't seem like that big of a deal.

Plus, a part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge wonders if maybe this is growing up. If it means that he's healing.

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"It looks cool," I say, sensing that it means a lot more than what Derek just said.

I step carefully as we walk, reminded of the many times I worked my way through the woods back home to make it to my rock, my own little sanctuary in the middle of nowhere. (Which is ruined now. Thanks a lot, Wes.)

"Jesus, you weren't kidding about living in the woods, were you?"

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"Yeah," Derek says, huffing out a laugh. "I used to live in Dimera, but after I lost Stiles I didn't want to stay, so I found this place. I grew up on a nature preserve so it sort of reminds me of home."

It's not until after he says it that he really realizes what he said, and he blinks in surprise. And not even just because he was so forthcoming with information, but because he referenced Stiles so casually, and it didn't feel like a kick to the chest. It stings, but it's like thinking of Laura, or the rest of his family. A sensitive scar rather than a gaping wound.

"We were together," Derek explains awkwardly, used to people just knowing who Stiles is. Was. "But he's gone now."

From:

I'm about to ask who Stiles was, but then Derek explains and suddenly a lot of things (well, mostly how broody he is) make sense. I wasn't the same after dad left, and mom was a wreck until she found meaning in something again.

Why do people want to fall in love again?

"Sorry," I tell him, and while I'm curious about it, I keep those questions to myself.

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"Not your fault. He disappeared a few months ago, but I just couldn't stay in that apartment." It smelled like Stiles, so much so that Derek could barely breathe. It's been a long time since he's been inside of it, and he wonders how much the scent has faded. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders, taking a breath as they break through the trees and into the clearing where his cabin sits. "And here we are."

He steps up onto the porch and opens the door, turning on the light and leaving it open for Bianca to follow. Jinx, his big fluffy black cat, comes trotting over with a meow, rubbing against Derek's leg and then freezing when she sees Bianca walk in. "Jinx, Bianca. Bianca, Jinx."

Derek lets Jinx go over and inspect Bianca while he pulls on a pair of basketball shorts and then turns to watch them with a smirk.

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I don't really get the whole idea of not being able to go somewhere because someone you loved used to be there, but then I also don't have any real experience in the someone you loved department. I still pine over Wes from day to day, but I'm not sure what that was. Affection? Attachment? Something deeper? I guess I won't find out.

"You have a cat?" I ask with a laugh as I crouch down and hold my hand out. "I figured you'd be a dog person."

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"You're stereotyping me," Derek says with a laugh, walking over to the pygmy puff's cage. It hops up with a squeak and rolls over to the bars, nosing at Derek's fingers and letting out a happy chittering sound. "But yes, I have a cat. And this is Puff."

He figures the pygmy puff will amuse Bianca, so he opens the cage and lets it hop into his hand, shivering with pure elation and rolling up to Derek's shoulder and nuzzling at his neck. Jinx hops delicately up onto the back of the sofa behind Bianca's head and lets out a judgmental meow, eyeballing the puff speculatively."

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"Oh shit," I breathe out when I see Puff. (Real original name there, Derek.) It looks way creepier than I remember it being, but it also looks incredibly fluffy. Like, I want to hold it just so I can say I did.

"Isn't that a Harry Potter thing?" Does that mean Harry Potter is real? How do you even deal with the possibility of the characters you loved while growing up being real? "Are Harry Potter things real here? Is Harry Potter here?"

So maybe I'm excited. I think it's understandable, it's Harry fucking Potter. I wanted to be Hermione and go to Hogwarts when I was little. Actually, I'm pretty sure she's the reason I'm even an honor roll student in the first place.

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Derek laughs when she recognizes it, and then he holds the puff out to her. It chirps excitedly and jumps onto her chest, nuzzling up under her chin. He sits down next to her and nods. She's going to find out eventually.

"Yes, yes, and no," he tells her, watching her and waiting for her reaction. "Hermione and Ron are here. She's where Stiles got the puff. They were friends."

He looks at the puff with a fond smile and then shrugs. "But I'm friends with Kili and Fili from The Hobbit, so I'm doing alright."

From:

The puff tickles, which I didn't expect. It's kinda cute, as long as I don't look too long at the eyes and I'm reminded that it's basically a big ball of a troll doll.

I wasn't seriously expecting my questions to get actual answers, and not those answers. "Shut up," I tell Derek, and in my excitement I reach out and hit his arm. "Are you for real? Harry Potter and dwarves?"

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"It's a very strange place," Derek tells her with a solemn nod, but he cracks a smile when she punches them. "It's weird, knowing that there are all these different universes that apparently exist. All these places we read about, or saw on TV. They exist somewhere."

Derek shrugs and looks over as Jinx steps onto his shoulder, curling her tail around his neck and watching the puff with big gold eyes. "And now we're all thrown here together in this fucking snow globe."

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I feel like there should be some light bulb over my head and a ding when it lights up, because it hits me all of a sudden: Derek is from a TV show as well. One I totally wrote off as another Twilight wannabe, but Jess and Casey loved it enough that I've seen bits and pieces of it. And Thomas looked like one of those guys, didn't he?

"Does that mean I'm from a TV show or something?" It would make sense, but I have no idea why anyone would want to watch my hot mess of a life.

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"I guess it's possible," Derek replies, wrinkling his nose. "I hope I'm not. I don't know what kind of masochist would want to tune in for that shit."

He huffs out a laugh and reaches up to pet Jinx before she hops off of Derek and goes over to her food bowl. He watches her and then looks over at Bianca, raising an eyebrow. "So, you said you had werewolf questions."

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Teenage girls, Derek. Teenage girls will want to tune in to your TV show, and it's pretty obvious why.

I hold my hand up to my neck so Puff can hop on, its pink fur tickling my fingers. I wish Casey were here to experience this with me, she'd freak out so much.

"That's an understatement," I say, but I just jump right into it, figuring Derek will tell me if and when I get too annoying. "So you obviously can change at will, it doesn't hurt? No bone cracking, screaming in pain?"

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Derek watches her and smirks at her question, shaking his head a little and holding out his hand. His claws extend and retract smoothly, and he looks from them to her face. "It doesn't hurt, exactly. It's sort of like stretching a sore muscle. Sometimes it's like scratching an itch."

He waits for a moment, watching as the puff chitters contentedly and rubs against her neck, always happy to have a new friend. "Most wolves can't completely shift like I do, at least not where I'm from. They usually take a beta form. I'll show you."

After a moment spent waiting for her to brace herself, he lets the beta shift takeover. He can feel his face rippling with the change, brow bone protruding as hair sprouts along his jaw. His eyes go red, fangs extending, and the puff squeaks happily and hops over to his shoulder. Which really, probably ruins the scariness of it all.

From:

It's one thing to hear about beta form or whatever and another to see it. All of a sudden Derek's face is completely different, having shifted into something that looks a lot more werewolfy.

It's weird and it makes me a little uncomfortable, but I'm also freaking fascinated. Who wouldn't be?

"Holy shit dude," I exclaim, eyes wide. "Holy shit."

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Derek huffs out a laugh and turns his jaw to the side, stretching his neck and closing his eyes as he lets the shift fade away, face returning to normal. His eyes are still red when he opens them, but they fade back to pale hazel as he looks at her.

"Not an uncommon reaction," Derek says with a smirk, tilting his head as he watches her. Her heart is beating a little faster, but she isn't exactly afraid of him. She's curious more than anything, and that pleases Derek. It's still something that he's getting used to, having people want to learn more about him. Even Scott didn't seem too interested in that, even after becoming a wolf himself.

"I don't just shift on the full moon, and I don't lose control during it either," Derek tells her, reaching over to the side table and grabbing a bag of trail mix. The puff squeaks and happily takes a peanut when Derek holds it out to it, rolling away to eat it.

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A part of my brain is protesting what I've just seen, because that just doesn't happen in the real world.

Except I'm no longer in the real world, and as much as I want to pretend Darrow is normal, all the random strange events I've read about in the past -- that weird recent snowstorm, and now Derek -- prove it very much isn't.

"So you got all the awesome parts of being a werewolf and none of the shitty parts. Lucky you."

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"Oh, there are plenty of shitty parts," Derek assures her with a wan smile, looking down at his hand and letting his claws extend. "Maybe not here, so much. But back home."

He doesn't elaborate, but he thinks of the hunters and the rival packs. The vindictive, powerful alphas thirsty for vengeance and more power. "But I like being what I am. It's how I was born. It's what my family was."

Derek realizes how much he's saying and furrows his brow a bit, shrugging before looking over at her again.

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