Sterek One Shots

Better Than Dead

For all the times Stiles thought he was going to die from all of the werewolf stuff, when it finally came, when the life was slipping out of him as time ticked down, he was actually surprised.

It was meant to have just been reconnaissance, checking out a warehouse with suspicious activity, nothing more. Stiles had gone inside with Peter while Scott and Derek circled the outside. None of them suspected to actually run into the witches who were thought to be doing rituals in the long-abandoned shipping warehouse. Within seconds the witches had descended, trapping Peter in some strange purple circle of fire before one turned on Stiles and stabbed him in the abdomen with a cursed dagger. The blade itself had missed most everything vital, but the poison on it started coursing through his veins like 

fire

. With the first scream of agony Stiles let out, the witches all fled, only for the doors to be fly open as Derek and Scott ran inside. Stiles was too busy 

dying

 to see the fight, but from the sounds of it, Derek and Scott ripped the coven of four apart violently.

By the time Stiles began to stop feeling the pain so badly, Peter was free and rushed to his side. “Derek, come quick!” he shouted, kneeling beside Stiles.

“Stiles!” Scott ran to Stiles, sliding to the floor across from Peter. “Oh God,” he breathed, putting a hand over the bleeding wound. “We have to get him to the hospital-“

“There’s no time,” Peter said, looking up as Derek got to them. “You have to bite him, he’s dying.”

Derek knelt behind Stiles’s head and looked down. He paled when he heard Stiles’s heart struggling. “An ambulance won’t make it,” he breathed and Scott’s head snapped up.

“What?!” He looked at Stiles, who was shaking, eyes flickering everywhere but at them. “Stiles? Stiles?!” Scott looked up frantically. “Derek, you have to bite him!”