Stand Still // [tw/spn/sh/twl]

Chapter 28

CULLEN RESIDENCE, MONDAY, 8:24 A.M.

"Imprinted?" Stiles questioned, shifting in Paul's arms as he tried to created some, any distance between them, but Paul kept him still.

Stiles honestly felt quite safe in Paul's arms. They were warm, strong, and capable, and they enveloped him like a warm blanket. However, the fact that he knew nothing about the boy other than his name was enough to brush off that security.

"It's a wolf thing," Sam said awkwardly as he tired to assess the situation.

"Great," Alice threw her hands in the air. "Add that to the list of bat-shit crazy things that are happening."

"Let's just calm down," Carlisle began. "One thing at a time. First, Sam, can you create some distance between Paul and Stiles."

Sam wordlessly approached Paul, but he did so with caution. He made himself known first, saying, "Paul," in a stern voice before placing a hand on said boy's shoulder.

Paul turned his head to look at Sam, but he kept his head resting in the crevasse of Stiles' neck.

"Stiles is uncomfortable," Sam stated slowly. "Can you give him some space?" Paul stared at Sam for a few seconds before lifting his head to look at Stiles.

"Uh," Stiles trialed off, not knowing what to say that could contribute to the situation.

"Paul," Sam stated, the tone of his voice more demanding. "Come on, let him go. You need to cool down. Let go outside."

At the mention of leaving Stiles, Paul growled and stuffed his face back in the spark's neck. He inhaled Stiles' scent, which only creeped the boy out more.

"Please, get him off me," Stiles said as he squirmed. Paul's grasp may have been somewhat comforting at first, but now he was getting very uncomfortable. He needed to be in familiar arms, not the arms of a stranger.

"Paul," Sam growled as he yanked on the boy's shoulder, which only caused Paul to whip his head around and glare at the man. "Don't make me get physical," Sam threatened. Paul failed to comply.

Stiles sent a pleading look at his friends, and that was all the infamous Derek Hale needed to step in.

Derek grabbed Paul by his other shoulder and had no problem ripping him away from Stiles. He didn't hesitate to shove the boy away and shield Stiles from anymore pursues.

Paul growled, but he didn't have enough time to retaliate before Sam was dragging him out of the room, causing the rest of the shirtless boys that had followed them in to scatter.

Stiles let out a relived sigh as he rubbed his hands over his arms. Some spots of his body, particularly the spots where Paul had made skin to skin contact with him, were oddly warm. Normally, he'd be okay with that considering was stuck in a cold cell hours prior, but he didn't like that the warmth came from a stranger.

Carlisle sighed and ran a hand over his face as he began to pace back and forth. Alice placed her hands on her hips and looked at the wall, deep in thought. Scott walked over to Carlisle and began to talk to him, but his voice was quiet and sharp enough that Stiles couldn't make out many words that were being said.

Stiles lifted his head, watching with doe eyes as Derek finally turned to face him. The werewolf stared down at him with a conflicted expression.

"Are...you okay?" Derek eventually said.

"Yeah," Stiles sighed as he managed a small smile. He was honestly amused by Derek's concern and the werewolf's attempt to communicate.

"I need a nap," the spark groaned. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned into Derek, who stiffened at the contact and glanced over at Scott.

"He needs rest," Carlisle stated, referring to Stiles, who was practically half-asleep against Derek's chest. "There a spare room upstairs, first to the left." Stiles lifted his head and looked at Carlisle.

"Will will discuss further plans while you sleep," the blond stated.

"Shouldn't I be a part of those plans?" Stiles asked.

"Frankly, I'd like you as far away from Paul as possible, and, considering I can still hear him throwing a fit outside, I don't think he's leaving," Carlisle explained. "We also need to figure out what's going on with him too. I have a feeling what just happened wasn't just an imprint."

Stiles opened his mouth to speak, but Carlisle and Alice were out of the room in the blink of an eye, leaving the spark and two werewolves alone.

"Come on," Scott waved. "You deserve some rest."

Stiles allowed Derek and Scott to guide him to the guest room. They received some wandering eyes along the way and heard shouts between Sam and Paul from outside, but that only made them walk faster.

"You got him?" Scott questioned to Derek when the three of them reached the spare room.

"Yeah," Derek answered shortly, and Scott nodded before disappearing back down the stairs.

Stiles sighed and walked further into the room. He sat on the edge of the bed and let out a deep sigh as he gripped the comforter.

"How are you feeling?" Derek asked despite the fact that it was a dumb question with an obvious answer.

"Like shit," Stiles replied with a small chuckle. "Thank you."

"For?" Derek trialed off as he crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe.

Stiles looked down at himself, noticing he was still wearing Derek's jacket. He unzipped it, slid it off, and stood up before handing it to the werewolf. He noticed how Derek seemed more inclined to stare at his bare chest than his eyes.

"For saving me," Stiles finally stated.

"We all saved you," Derek responded as he folded his jacket over his arm.

"It meant more coming from you," the spark said. "I'm serious. I know that, sometimes, the rest of the pack can take you for granted, even Scott at the worst times, but I've never questioned how far you'll go to help us."

"Yeah..." Derek sighed. The two of them stared at each other for a moment more, and Stiles decided the werewolf deserved a bit more than a verbal, "thank you."

Stiles pushed Derek out into the hallway before pushing himself up on his toes a bit and pressing his lips to the werewolf's cheek. It was a short kiss. It was more like a peak, but it was still enough to fluster Derek, who stuttered out incoherent words as his eyes widened.

"Go do whatever broody werewolves do in their spare time, and don't wake me up unless someone's dying, burning, drowning, or exploding," Stiles stated, and, with that, he shut the door.

He went to sleep with a small smile on his face.

[EDITED]