Chapter Text
“Yes, officer. I’m sincerely sorry about this. I promise it won’t happen again.” Derek could barely hear his uncle Peter profusely apologize from the back of the police car. He didn’t even need to see his uncle to picture the exact way he positioned his body. Making sure the cop perceived him as trustworthy. Derek found it revolting.
He never intended nor expected his situation to get so bad. Being a transgender werewolf wasn’t unheard of, but it certainly was unspoken of. And it made him feel alienated from the rest of his family, especially his cousins. Peter’s children. The ones who had dared him to sneak into a supposedly abandoned building.
Derek knew it wasn’t abandoned. And his cousins knew that he knew. But they didn’t care and Derek never got caught, and he couldn’t risk losing the little respect he had earned himself throughout the year. Not when the New Year mating parties his cousins hosted were about to begin. But the wooden floor gave away and made him fall several stories, hitting his head against the concrete.
By the time the police showed up, his external wounds had already healed up but something didn’t feel right. Some of his heightened senses, like smell and vision, were practically nonexistent but his hearing had increased in a very painful way. The crackling of the police radio prevented him from fully understanding the conversation occurring outside of the car.
Suddenly, the car door flew open and the older police officer grabbed him by his elbow and pulled him outside. Derek could feel the handcuffs digging into his skin and it would have been so easy to just break them instead of waiting for the cop to set him free but he saw his uncle’s red eyes from a couple of feet behind and decided to stay quiet during the whole process and lecture.
His cousins were already in the backseat when he got to the car so he sat next to his uncle who stared at the road ahead with quiet rage, red flashes reflecting on the inside of the windshield. The silence didn’t last long.
“What the hell were you thinking, Derek? And you, bastards,” Peter boomed. Derek’s ears rang and he swore he could feel the windows vibrate. “Don’t even think you’re not getting punished because you haven’t been caught! You’re staying with Jennifer tonight.” The sound of quiet whimpers started coming from behind him but a dreadful snarl made them stop. “Silence! You have lost the right to complain. You’re staying with her tonight and you’ll help her with everything she needs.”
“And you, Derek. I can’t even begin to express how disappointed I am in your behavior.” Peter reduced his volume but the acid and disgust in which he threw each word made them hurt more even if his ears were relieved. “I promised my dear sister Thalia. Please Lord, may she rest in peace,” all five of them reached to their golden necklaces and gave a small kiss to the warm metal cross that hung daily from their necks. “I promised her that I’d take care of you. And I have. Haven’t I?” His uncle said, turning his head and raising his voice directly at him. “Answer when I speak to you, cub!”
“Yes, sir.” Derek’s voice cracked but there was no sign of the usual laughs and snarky comments his cousins had made countless times in the past.
“I’ve given you everything that I could! I lost my family, too! I carried every single body outside of that house, and I raised you!” Tears filled Derek’s eyes in the same way that pain filled his uncle’s voice.
“You three, get out,” he flatly said right before stopping the car. They indeed were in front of Jennifer’s house, another pack’s emissary who had helped them for many years and whose methods went from undesirable to abominable. “I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon.”
They silently drove until they reached their flat. Derek could feel the indecisiveness in his uncle’s pulse, meaning he was about to make a big decision.
“This is it, Derek.” Peter threw the house keys to the entryway table, banging against the metal plate and denting it. Derek slowly closed the door behind him and slowly walked to his uncle who grabbed a big notebook that served as a werewolf phone book. “Pack your things. Essentials only. I’m taking you to a friend’s house tomorrow morning.”
***
Derek waited in the car as his uncle finished his morning calls, the December morning cold air biting at his hands and ears, punishing him for leaving them unprotected against the weather.
Peter got in the car and peeked at his nephew’s face before starting the low-sounding engine and getting to the familiar main road. Derek had lived here for most of his life, he knew most of the streets by name, bus routes, hidden spots, etcetera.
He found enough bravery to speak once they left the city. When the skyscrapers turned into deep forests and the asphalt turned into uneven ground.
“I’m sorry.” Those were the only things that could come out of his mouth even though a thousand questions swarmed his mind.
“I know you are, Derek. That’s why I’m taking you where they can help you.” His blue eyes looked at him full of pity, and maybe regret. His tone indicated there was no way back.
Being in the car for so many hours made Derek forget about his destiny, or at least his body did which allowed him to sleep until the bumps on the road made him hit his head against the window, reigniting the pain of the sore spot from last night.
“Derek,” Peter took advantage of his nephew finally being awake. “I desperately need you to understand that I’m only doing this because I care about you.” Derek slightly turned his head away from the window and stared at his uncle’s white knuckles that tightly gripped the wheel.
“Mm,” he tried to speak but only a sad whimper came out.
“You’re smart, Derek. You know we can’t solve this situation on our own. They’re gonna help you in this place. They got a program, and people in your situation, or at least similar situations.” The low hum of the high-end black car was almost enough to drown out Peter’s words and Derek simply sighed in response. He knew his uncle was right. “We’re here. Stay in the car.”
Derek immediately whipped his head up front, not even registering the thud of the driver’s seat door closing. He confusedly stared at his uncle shaking someone’s hand.
“Mr. Hale?” Derek heard the black man’s deep voice over the mild wind that had arisen over the morning hours.
“Nice to meet you. You must be Vernon Boyd, right? Your boss told me you’d receive us this morning.” There it was his tone shift again. Derek tried to get out of the car but the door was locked. Both men instantly turned their heads around to look at him, red and golden eyes monitoring him. He tried opening the door again to no avail. He felt trapped. There wasn’t enough air in the car. His heart started pounding as the paranoia fogged his vision.
His uncle opened the door from the outside and the cold winter air made him snap out of it.
“You can come out now, Derek.” He carefully stepped outside the vehicle and was greeted by someone seemingly close to his age but quite taller than him.
“Hello, Derek. My name is Vernon Boyd. I’m a counselor here and I’ll be your guide for today.” His voice was calm, and so was his heart, but some wolves can learn how to control their pulse in the presence of other wolves to give off a false sense of confidence. “This institution came into existence to help young wolves who got lost along their journeys,” he paused, looking back before leading them inside the seemingly standard building, its only notable thing was its remote location. “But we’ve opened up to other supernatural beings throughout the years. Many studies showed that having a diverse environment helped many of our residents feel more seen and accepted even if their conditions weren’t the same as everyone else’s.”
Derek could feel his uncle’s eyes on the back of his head but he was too focused on looking around to pay attention to anything else. Derek had taken a few classes on architecture and, even though he couldn’t point out what it was exactly, something seemed completely off about the hotel-like entrance, and following Boyd through all the similarly empty narrow corridors as he explained the history of the building felt like trying to orient yourself inside a liminal space when he suddenly came to a halt in front of a closed door.
“So, there’s not much more to it. My room is right at the end of that corridor.” He pointed right past Derek’s head with one hand as he grabbed the doorknob with the other. “Please, call me before you do anything stupid,” he said with a half-smile. “And here’s yours.” Vernon opened the screechy wooden door and led the way inside. Derek couldn’t even pay attention to anything else apart from the boy lying down on a bed, a sour expression on his face.
“You told me I wouldn’t have a new roommate in a while, Boyd. Who is this?” His voice was higher than he expected but that didn’t make the venom in his tone sting any less.
Derek unconsciously raised an eyebrow as he stared at the boy. Grown-out bleached hair, several piercings and three small tattoos, a crescent moon in the middle of his forehead, a sun in his throat, and something written under his left eye, adorned his head. He wore a faded dark shirt that looked oversized but maybe it was just worn out and wide jeans. He was also wearing shoes. On the bed. Nasty . His eyes returned to the boy’s face who was glaring directly at him, mirroring his raised eyebrow.
“It’s a special case, Stilinski. Stop bitching and get up. You’re gonna be late for your meeting with counselor Clara.”
“Please don’t tell me it’s another werewolf,” he retorted as he got up and grabbed a small notebook. “I can’t deal with the smell of wet dog,” Stilinski walked right past them and headed out of the room.
“You don’t smell that much better, asshole.” Derek didn’t mean to say it out loud, and he definitely didn’t expect his voice to sound so intimidating, since it seemed enough for Boyd to put a hand on Derek’s chest. Slowly but surely pushing him a few feet behind. He switched his eyes to Peter who amusedly watched the interaction.
Stilinski let out a small laugh before turning around and ignoring Derek, directing his eyes only to Boyd.
“How do you even know everyone’s timetables?”
“It’s my job. Now, leave.” Boyd closed the door after the other boy turned around the corner and they couldn’t directly see him. “Sorry about that. He’ll come around, he always does.”
“How long has he been here?” It was an honest question. They seemed like they had known each other for a long time.
“It’s hard to say. He runs away and comes back all the time.” He quickly answered. “Now, that’s your closet and this is your bed. I know it may look small but I slept in one just like that and I’m bigger than you. No offense.”
“Non-taken.” Derek looked around the room, finally taking it in. The bed did look small, and the wall on his side was bare. The other side of the room looked very different. Trinkets and books spilled on every surface, and many movie posters hung above the other boy’s bed.
“Well, it’s time to say goodbye, you’ll be able to call each other at any time. There’s a phone at the reception. Free of charge.” He directed that part to Peter.
“Here’s your bag, pup.” Peter put Derek’s old summer camp bag next to his assigned bed and tentatively reached for a hug. Derek burrowed his head into his uncle’s neck, desperately trying to cling to the scent of his home, his family, and his pack. The moment didn’t last long before his uncle pulled away and walked out of the room.
“I’m gonna leave you to it. I’ll be at the front desk in case you need anything.” Vernon strongly clapped his shoulder, intensely looking right into Derek’s eyes before leaving and closing the door behind him.
Derek stood there, finally alone and not knowing what to do. He tried to make up what Vernon’s look meant. Reassurance? Hope? Pity? Whatever the other wolf tried to tell him was lost in the distance between them.
He sighed and started to unpack the few things he had managed to bring. God knows he wasn’t in the right state of mind to pack his bag.
He opened the zip and found enough clothes for a week. His uncle told him he would send him more clothes if he had to spend more time than expected. They all fit snugly in the small closet. A few books that he put on display. He had already read them but he brought them anyway. Some family photos that he left inside the carrier. And his testosterone kit. He put it in the closet and closed the single door but then decided to hide it a little between the folds of his clothes, away from prying eyes.
Wolves would instantly know, he had no problem with that, but there were other kinds of people living here and he learned from a young age the value of keeping yourself at a safe distance from everything that may try to hurt you.
Derek looked around the room once all of his stuff was sorted out. He walked to the closed window and opened it, letting the chilling air in. He was greeted by the evergreen trees that held most of the life that surrounded the house. A second later he noticed the metal bars that separated him from the trees. It was pretty enough so that it didn’t look like a jail cell but still sturdy. He sighed as he sat on his new bed, testing the rigidness of the mattress and the texture of the sheets. Surprisingly, they weren’t half as bad as Derek had initially thought. He leaned back, letting his feet dangle off the edge.
The lack of sleep from last night quickly caught up to him. He stared at the other side of the room when he noticed the calendar that hung on the wall. Is that from 1996?
***
A loud thud suddenly woke him up. He tried to search for the source of the sound when he noticed his roommate’s figure standing by the window, pale moon rays reflecting on his face and making his piercings shine.
The boy glared at him after noticing the sudden movement.
“Look, I know wolves run hot but since we’re sharing this room I’m not letting you keep this window open the whole day. It’s January, for fuck’s sake.”
“Didn’t mean to,” Derek simply replied.
“You really needed that beauty sleep, huh?” He went to his closet and grabbed a dark flannel. He walked up to Derek’s bed as he put it on. “You even got rid of the dark circles you brought in this morning.” His tone was flat but there was some sort of hidden joke underneath.
He stood there, probably waiting for Derek to say something but he simply stared back until he turned around and sat down on his bed.
“My name is Stiles, by the way. Maybe you already knew that. Although I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself this morning.”
“It didn’t help that you told me I smelled like a wet dog.”
“I simply stated that werewolves smell like wet dogs, not you particularly. And I was joking. And you literally said I stank, too!” Stiles’ hands exaggeratedly moved in the air as he spoke.
“I wasn’t joking,” Derek flatly stated.
“Not my fault your heightened werewolf senses make you notice every single scent in a room,” he paused. “Anyways, introduce yourself.”
“I’m Derek.”
“That’s it?” Stiles’ tone indicated he was already running low on patience which Derek found terribly amusing.
“Derek Hale,” he replied, continuing his strike.
“Is that supposed to mean anything? Are you part of a werewolf dynasty or something?”
“Sort of.” He couldn’t help but show a small smile, concluding his façade.
“Well, I’m not a wolf so: a, I’m not impressed, and b, you gotta give me something to work with, man,” Stiles grunted and closed his eyes as he roughly rubbed his hands through his face. “Okay, let’s do this. Ask me any question you want about me and then I’ll ask you something. We only got one question each so don’t waste it.”
“Why do you have a 1996 calendar on your wall?”
“Very observant, Derek Hale.”