Shifted

29 - Anger Has a Smell?

Stiles shut his eyes and rested his head against the cold, wet floor.

"Are you good?" Derek asked.

Stiles nodded, still not able to bring himself to speak.

Seemingly satisfied with this, Derek got off him and stood. He crossed his arms and looked down at the defeated boy on the floor.

He was trying to understand why Stiles kept losing control. As far as he knew, the boy had no history of aggression or psychosis. Hell, everyone he asked about him pretty much said the boy was weird but smart and polite. The only time he ever got in trouble was with his ADHD but even then it was a focus issue and nothing even close to violence or aggression.

"Then get up." Derek pressed, "You're not gonna solve anything down there so get up and help me figure out why you keep losing it."

Stiles didn't answer him. He lifted his hands to his face, the way he always did when he was stressed, only this time he froze. Because in the crappy locker room light, he could see something red and viscous all over his hands.

Blood.

He knew it was his blood. He knew it must have happened some time during his struggle but all he could think of was blood on his hands. Blood that was put there because he lost control. Blood that was there because he was a dangerous werewolf.

Blood that could have just as easily belonged to someone else.

Derek saw what Stiles was looking at and immediately knew what was going on in the boy's head. He couldn't even tell him that nothing like that would have happened because they both knew it very easily could have. If Derek hadn't been released from jail in time or if Stiles was just a little faster, there would have been at least one dead body on the field. Either by Stiles' claws or Argent's bullet.

They needed to figure this all out before Stiles became too unpredictable and too much of a danger to everyone around him.

"Stiles, get up." He said, more firmly this time.

When the boy still seemed too focused on his bloody hands, Derek took his arm and pulled until Stiles was on his feet. He didn't make a single noise of protest as Derek turned on the shower and drenched him in cold water.

"This is why you need control, Stiles. This is what I've been warning you about."

Stiles' head remained bowed as he watched the blood drip from his hands and mix with the clear water at his feet. Somehow, even though he knew this was his blood and he didn't hurt anyone, this felt worse than when he hurt Jackson. Back then, he felt horrible and he wanted nothing more than to go back in time and stop himself from losing control like that.

But this time...

Feeling all that anger and rage, then waking up to find his hands covered in blood. It was his worst nightmare come to life. Everything he worried about since that night he found out he was an actual freaking werewolf.

He couldn't understand. He did everything right! He quit, he meditated, he tried everything to keep himself in control and then all of a sudden...

"I'm trying, okay?" Stiles finally snapped, turning off the shower to give Derek his full attention. "But it's not like I asked for any of this! I didn't ask to be bitten, to be turned into some kind of monster! I wanted a stupid adventure before school, not this mess!"

Derek's jaw clenched, his patience wearing thin. "You think you're the only one who's had to deal with this? You think I haven't had my own struggles with control? We're werewolves, Stiles. It's part of who we are, whether we like it or not."