Part 2 of the Wake Up Dead series.

"You don't scare me," Derek says.

Stiles can hear Derek's heartbeat spike as he lies. It pounds in Stiles' ears, the rush of blood distracting, and he struggles to focus. "Yeah, I do," he says. "But that's good. You've gotta be careful."

Stiles knows what happened. It sucked him dry, and he was dying, he felt it. "You got him, right?" Stiles asks. "He's dead?"

It's the last thing Stiles remembers, before blurred vision went black. Derek killed it. Stiles saw the spray of blood, felt it splatter, cold, over his face. "I died," he says, lifting his fingers to his lips, remembering the taste in his mouth, old, like ancient rust and crumbling gravestones. "I'm an accident. This happened because you killed it." Cold, thick drops, falling into his slack mouth. Flavor bursting on his tongue. Something like magic humming down his throat.

Then nothing until moments ago, when he opened his eyes to find Derek waiting for him, to hear Derek's heart beating while his own is silent and still.

"No." Derek shakes his head. "We gave you more. We drained him and fed it to you. We gave you as much as we could before your heart stopped."

"Why?" He can already feel a deep, empty, gnawing hunger like he's never felt before. "You saw what he did. He killed people." Stiles chokes. "I don't wanna—"

Derek's shaking his head again. "I won't let you. He was dangerous because he hadn't fed. We're werewolves. We'll heal. We won't let you be hungry. Scott and I, we've already worked it out. The others, too. You'll be fine, I swear."

Stiles can hear blood rushing hot and fast through Derek's veins. He can see the twitch at Derek's neck as it pumps from his heart. The heat draws Stiles in, he knows just where to sink his teeth for Derek's blood to spurt down his throat with no effort.

"Your dad wants to see you," Derek says. "As soon as you woke up. He made me promise."

Stiles shakes his head, leans close, reaches out. He needs the warmth, needs the peace that Derek's blood will bring him. "I'm hungry now, Derek." He runs his tongue over his teeth because they're aching, slices it open on sharp canines. They'll slide into Derek like he's butter, pierce him open and the blood will pour out. "I'm so hungry. I can hear your heart, your blood. I've gotta taste it." He puts a hand on Derek's throat, pulling him close using strength he's never had before. He's stronger than Derek now. Stronger than anyone. He could take them all, he knows, and the hunger tries to wipe his conscience away. "I need you," he breathes, feeling the swirling eddies of his cool breath rebounding off warm skin. It's a need he'll never be able to deny. "I want—."

"Stiles," Derek whispers, right before Stiles' fangs break the skin.

Derek's blood fills his mouth. It's hot and rich and sweet and perfect. It's life itself. It wipes Stiles' mind clean of anything else and he has to take it all, because he may not get another chance.

But it quenches, fills dry veins and tissues, eases the hunger that overshadowed everything else. Self breaks through, and Stiles remembers.

Derek moans, claws tearing into Stiles' biceps, the skin trying to heal around them with a weird tightening. Stiles swallows the rush of blood straight from Derek's heart, but the spurt is weaker than before.

Derek's body struggles to replace the blood that's being taken. If he was human, he'd be dead by now.

Stiles jerks back, blood dripping from his lips. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Why?" he says. "Why didn't you just let me die?"

Derek opens heavy eyes and presses his fingertips against the healing tears in his skin, then examines them closely. "Because I couldn't." His skin brightens beneath Stiles' gaze, as his blood replenishes, as his vitality returns. "Because I can keep you safe, Stiles. Because I'll never leave you."

This is why the vampire came to Beacon Hills. He was looking for a pack when his own werewolf familiar grew old and died. They turned him away, and the hunger grew too great, and Stiles was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Stiles doesn't say anything. He doesn't say 'he's dead because we wouldn't help him' because it's already written all over Derek's face.

Though, maybe Derek's thinking that Stiles is dead because they wouldn't help the vampire. None of it matters now. Stiles knows the pack will feed him. If not the others, then Derek and Scott, because the two of them would both die before they let Stiles turn into a monster.

But one day they'll grow old. They'll die, and Stiles won't. If the pack doesn't grow with the years, one day it'll be Stiles who goes looking for werewolves, begging to be fed so he doesn't turn into a killer.