![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
alakewood.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tamingthemuseTitle: after the war [2/?]
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 481 - boulder
Warnings: AU (some kind of not-quite post-apocalyptic, slightly militaristic, maybe in-the-future, werewolves-become-known I don’t know). Derek/Stiles, with background Erica/Boyd and Scott/Allison.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~540
Summary: Argent returns to camp, but he’s not alone.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
-- = --
It was nearly mid-morning by the time Derek left the command center. There were no new updates on Stiles’ team and Argent’s was still out in the field; Stilinski didn’t expect Argent back until the afternoon at the earliest. So, after having been debriefed by Parrish—and coaxing as much information as he could manage out of the man—Derek swung by the mess hall for a quick bite before retiring to his room. He was exhausted and despite being filthy from the last few days of travel, instead of taking a shower first, he just collapsed on his musty sheets and fell asleep.
Derek woke later to a commotion in the yard beyond his window. He groggily climbed out of bed and pushed his fraying curtain aside but couldn't see anything beyond the cloudy, dust-smudged glass. He was just pulling a shirt on when he heard quick footsteps coming down the hall outside his room, stopping outside his door, followed by rapid knocking. “Derek? It’s Isaac. Argent’s back and he’s not alone.”
Derek tugged his shirt into place and pulled the door open. “Stiles?” he asked, unable to disguise his hopefulness.
Lahey shook his head regretfully. “No. A girl. You need to come right away.”
They didn’t run outside, but there was an urgency to their steps as they headed to the narrow strip of patchy grass between the bunkhouses. There, Argent, Stilinski, and a dozen other men stood in a loose circle around something on the ground. Parrish caught sight of them first as they approached, turning to the sheriff. “Sir,” he said with a nod towards Derek.
Stilinski glanced over his shoulder before turning around and moving to intercept Derek before he got close enough to see who they were surrounding. “Argent’s team found her in one of the passes outside Beacon Hills, trapped beneath a boulder in a ravine. It seemed deliberate, that she’d been left there—by the alpha pack, most likely. We’re not sure why.” He took a breath and looked Derek square in the eye as he stood a little straighter, putting a stilling hand on Derek’s shoulder as he made to move forward. “She’s gone feral.”
Derek shook his head, not quite following, not understanding Stilinski’s use of kid gloves. “Who is she?”
“We haven’t confirmed her identity; that’s kind of where you come in. I didn’t want to blindside you, but… we think she might be your sister.”
Derek shook his head again. “No. It can’t be. I saw Laura. You— we both did. I don’t know who you think—”
“No,” the sheriff said, fingertips pressing into the muscle of Derek’s shoulder with the barest pressure. “We think it’s Cora.”
There was a moment where Derek forgot about Stiles, forgot the ache in his chest, forgot to breathe, because he’d never dared hope to see his little sister again. He’d never entertained the thought that she might have survived the extermination of the rest of his family, but there Stilinski was, telling Derek he thought she had.
Derek broke free from Stilinski’s loose grip and easily pushed his way between two of Argent’s men. Laying on the grass, bound in chains and snarling, was Cora.
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Prompt: 481 - boulder
Warnings: AU (some kind of not-quite post-apocalyptic, slightly militaristic, maybe in-the-future, werewolves-become-known I don’t know). Derek/Stiles, with background Erica/Boyd and Scott/Allison.
Rating: PG
Word Count: ~540
Summary: Argent returns to camp, but he’s not alone.
Disclaimer: It’s all lies and I own nothing.
It was nearly mid-morning by the time Derek left the command center. There were no new updates on Stiles’ team and Argent’s was still out in the field; Stilinski didn’t expect Argent back until the afternoon at the earliest. So, after having been debriefed by Parrish—and coaxing as much information as he could manage out of the man—Derek swung by the mess hall for a quick bite before retiring to his room. He was exhausted and despite being filthy from the last few days of travel, instead of taking a shower first, he just collapsed on his musty sheets and fell asleep.
Derek woke later to a commotion in the yard beyond his window. He groggily climbed out of bed and pushed his fraying curtain aside but couldn't see anything beyond the cloudy, dust-smudged glass. He was just pulling a shirt on when he heard quick footsteps coming down the hall outside his room, stopping outside his door, followed by rapid knocking. “Derek? It’s Isaac. Argent’s back and he’s not alone.”
Derek tugged his shirt into place and pulled the door open. “Stiles?” he asked, unable to disguise his hopefulness.
Lahey shook his head regretfully. “No. A girl. You need to come right away.”
They didn’t run outside, but there was an urgency to their steps as they headed to the narrow strip of patchy grass between the bunkhouses. There, Argent, Stilinski, and a dozen other men stood in a loose circle around something on the ground. Parrish caught sight of them first as they approached, turning to the sheriff. “Sir,” he said with a nod towards Derek.
Stilinski glanced over his shoulder before turning around and moving to intercept Derek before he got close enough to see who they were surrounding. “Argent’s team found her in one of the passes outside Beacon Hills, trapped beneath a boulder in a ravine. It seemed deliberate, that she’d been left there—by the alpha pack, most likely. We’re not sure why.” He took a breath and looked Derek square in the eye as he stood a little straighter, putting a stilling hand on Derek’s shoulder as he made to move forward. “She’s gone feral.”
Derek shook his head, not quite following, not understanding Stilinski’s use of kid gloves. “Who is she?”
“We haven’t confirmed her identity; that’s kind of where you come in. I didn’t want to blindside you, but… we think she might be your sister.”
Derek shook his head again. “No. It can’t be. I saw Laura. You— we both did. I don’t know who you think—”
“No,” the sheriff said, fingertips pressing into the muscle of Derek’s shoulder with the barest pressure. “We think it’s Cora.”
There was a moment where Derek forgot about Stiles, forgot the ache in his chest, forgot to breathe, because he’d never dared hope to see his little sister again. He’d never entertained the thought that she might have survived the extermination of the rest of his family, but there Stilinski was, telling Derek he thought she had.
Derek broke free from Stilinski’s loose grip and easily pushed his way between two of Argent’s men. Laying on the grass, bound in chains and snarling, was Cora.
