Derek killed Peter again. Peter came back again.

He's different.

This time Peter feeds on what he used to be, the very existence of the pack keeping him here. One by one, he takes them out, sucking the life out of them until they're dead, taking from Derek those he cares about.

Boyd's gone. Erica too. Scott and Jackson are still alive, but for how long? Derek doesn't know how to stop Peter. At least Stiles is safe, the one Derek's come to care for most of all. Peter can't affect Stiles, because he's human.

They're running, through dark streets, Scott and Jackson up ahead because Derek's hanging back with Stiles. He can't run as fast as the rest of them.

"Go on," Stiles rasps, doubling over, waving Derek on. "I'll be fine. Go!"

Derek rounds a corner, skids to a stop. Jackson's on the ground, Peter's shade above him, and the blue winks out of Jackson's eyes. Derek's eyes lock with Scott's, who stands helpless on the other side.

The man-shaped cloud of darkness rises up, waits, as if deciding who to take next. Scott runs. Derek turns back.

Derek doesn't know that he's the one Peter pursued until he feels a chill enter him, spreading out from his spine like ice. He stares into Stiles' wide eyes and waits to die.

Instead, the cold fills him, holds him up, keeps him moving. He's got no control over his own body when he approaches Stiles, no control over his mouth when he hears his own voice. "It's okay," he says. "Peter's gone."

Stiles' eyes narrow in confusion, but he steps into Derek's reach, into Derek's embrace, and Derek wants to scream, to tell Stiles' to run far away, but there's nothing he can do.

Stiles' cheek is warm against his lips, he can still smell his scent, he can hear the unique and familiar cadence of his heartbeat.

Derek's claws come out, there's resistance as they tear through Stiles' shirt, enter his body. Stiles' blood is hot as it flows over his hand, Stiles' gasp of pain hurts his ears.

"You took my life, twice," Derek says, but they are Peter's words, and they're not meant for Stiles. "Watch me take yours."

Stiles' eyes are wide in shock and confusion and pain. Blood bubbles up over his lips, runs in rivulets down over his chin, down his throat, soaks into his shirt, and Derek watches him die, Derek holds him as he dies thinking that Derek's the one killing him.

When it's too late to save Stiles, Peter leaves. Derek falls to the pavement with Stiles' cooling body in his arms, and he knows Peter is going back for Scott.

There's nothing Derek can do to stop him.

fin