I thought you were a myth pt.3- Derek Hale

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An awkward clearing of a throat caused the two of you to pull apart quickly, feeling like teenagers again. Turning towards the source with a silly grin on your face, it melted into a thin line at the sight of Peter, smirking his ass off at the two of you.
"Can I help you?" You asked flatly.
"Since we are all trapped here because of hunters running rampant around the city," he looked at you pointedly, punching his words unnecessarily, just to make sure his point came across, "I would like to make a suggestion of something to do so we don't go bored out of our minds."
"And what would that be?" You asked, crossing your arms, your head held high.
His grin was one you'd seen before, many times in fact, and it was the mischievousness behind it that worried you. "Why don't you and Scott go a few rounds?"
"No," Derek's adamant reply was overlapped by your nod and "okay" in agreeance. Derek's eyes leveled on you, but you didn't look away from Peter. "Go ask Scott what he thinks."
As Peter turned and walked leisurely back to the other room, hands behind his back like a young child, you turned to Derek, speaking just as his mouth opened, effectively cutting him off. "You are always trying to protect me. I can fight my own battles, Derek. Besides, what other way do you suggest I figure this whole True Alpha thing out that does not involve the risk of death?" His eyes were seething, his chest heaving as he huffed through his nose, unable to retort. "It's just Scott. I got this."
Turning toward the main room, feeling Derek follow after you, lagging a few steps, you remembered a similar situation from years ago, before you left Beacon Hills.

The two of you weren't supposed to talk. Pack rivalry and whatnot. Even though you went out of your way to appease both sets of packs and parent's, you and Derek had been cast in the school play opposite each other.
He had only auditioned because you asked him to. He looked very awkward, stiff, and out of place up on the stage, reading over the monologues you all had to read individually. But when it came to the partner scene, something changed.
The words tumbled out of his mouth without stumbling or halting. He barely glanced down at the page, away from your eyes, and you wondered if that play he had been reading for English was really for a make-up paper, or if he had memorized the scene beforehand.
Regardless, you both were cast across from each other, and would meet in the woods after school to run lines. .....Lines, and other things....
One day, out of nowhere, Peter came waltzing out of the treeline, his hands behind his back like a child with a secret, whistling a tune to nothing in particular. The smirk he sent the two of you was chilling, if you had to describe it. The two of you pulled apart quickly.
"What's this?" He said with mock dramatics. "Aren't you two supposed to be, oh, I don't know, anywhere but together?"
"We're running lines," Derek shot back, his voice full of venom, blue eyes flashing.
Before Peter could say anything, you added, "We are in the play together, and I am having trouble, so he is helping me memorize my lines, now go away." You flashed your yellow eyes for good measure.
He tisked, shaking his head with a sardonic grin, walking between the two of you. "Derek, go home."
Derek scoffed. "Yeah, right. I'm staying right here."
"Go home, Derek," this time he bit out the words maliciously.
"No."
"I said-"
"I heard what you said, and I'm choosing to ignore it."
"Fine. Then you'll just have to watch."
"Watch what?" Derek's voice was hesitant, and you felt like Peter was circling you, sizing you up.
"Well, I've been given the task of making sure the two of you do as you're told, sticking to the agreement, by any means necessary." His voice had taken on a dark, almost terrifying tone.
Suddenly, Derek was between you and Peter. "Don't you dare touch her."
Peter relaxed much too easily. "Fine, fine, I'll give you one more chance, but after this, I'll be forced to take more drastic measures."

A quick glance over your shoulder showed Derek was along the same thought trail as you. Shooting him a reassuring smile, he looked away, unable to return it, and you could see the worry in his eyes.
Turning back to the group, you smiled. "So, Scott. Peter ask you yet?"
"Yeah. And I was going to say no until Stiles started whining about how bored he was." He turned to look at his friend who sat beside him, arms crossed on the couch.
"What?" Stiles said as if he had been accused of something. "Sue me. I'm stuck in an apartment with a psychotic werewolf mass murderer, and it's just a bit unsettling. I need the distraction."
"You're human, Stiles. You could leave and be perfectly safe," you said softly.
He stared at you, jaw hanging limply before turning to his friends. "She really has a lot to learn about me, doesn't she?"
"You were going to say no?" You turned back to Scott after a moment.
"Yeah...."
"Why?"
"Well, for starters, if anything happens tonight, we both need to be at our best, and if we even nick the other, it will take longer to heal-"
"Okay, so no fangs or claws," you shrugged.
"And," Scott said pointedly, looking over your shoulder, "The look on Derek's face is really making me question whether I would walk out of the loft alive or not. Or at least limping."
You slowly turned to look at Derek once again over your shoulder, glaring at him.
After a moment he shrugged, his eyes wide. "What? I was not!"
"Ignore Derek. He just doesn't like that this was Peter's idea." He began to protest. "And, he knows I can kick your ass, so he is probably just looking out for you." You raised your eyebrows at Scott, seeing him relax a little at the sound of Derek snorting a laugh behind you.
"Fine, fine," he said, standing up and shrugging off his jacket, cheers going around the group as people scurried to set up the mats.
"Nice tattoo," you said, eyeing the two wide bands he sported proudly on his bicep.
"Thanks," he said softly, nodding once in recognition. "I'm going to go change into my workout gear."
"That sounds like a good idea. Me, too. Derek? Where did you put my bag?" You had left it in the hall when you walked in originally, Derek getting it before the pack arrived.
He nodded his head to the stairs. "Follow me."
Once in the guest room, you thanked him and grabbed your bag, moving to the small bathroom attached to it, but Derek grabbed your arm, stopping you, making you turn to him. "He's just doing it again. He's just trying to cause trouble. You know he was the reason the whole rivalry started in the first place?"
You nodded softly. "I know. That's why I'm doing this. He doesn't scare me, Derek."
You went into the bathroom, and closed the door all but a sliver, feeling Derek sitting on the bed just outside.
"You know I can change clothes without protection."
You heard him chuckle slightly.
"I don't know, you're pretty clumsy."
"One time, Derek. I tripped pulling my jeans on one time. You think that black eye was bad, you should have seen the night stand."
Now he let out a real laugh, and you smiled, zipping up the bag. "There's my Derek." You opened the door to see his smiling face, his eyes bright and twinkling.
After a few moments, it faded. "No. Go change. At least put on a hoodie."
"Derek, it's a sports bra and sweatpants."
"Exactly. Don't you have anything less revealing?"
You scoffed. "I forgot how jealous you get. Yes, I do have-"
"Go put it on."
"Yoga pants," you finished, putting a hand on your hip as you smirked down at him.
"Don't put them on," he said after a beat. "You'll need something to sleep in, right? Loungewear?"
You reached out and smacked his upper arm with a laugh. Setting down your bag beside him, you pulled out a zip up hoodie. "Fine. Happy?" You held the mass up to him, waving it in his face.
"Yes, yes," he laughed.
"Good," you said quietly, pulling it on, and zipping it quickly, turning to walk out of the room. Stopping in the doorway, you smirked toward the hallway. "But I'm not wearing it to fight in." You rushed down the stairs when you heard Derek's footsteps approaching quickly as he muttered, "You little-"
You reached the edge of the mat, pulling your hair up into a ponytail. "Ready, Scott?"
"As I'll ever be."
"Good." You unzipped your jacket, throwing it to the side, stopping when all eyes fell behind you.
"When did you get that?" Derek's voice was quiet and you turned to face him, hearing a small gasp from the group behind you.
"Oh. I forgot about that. Um, right after my family-" you had to stop and swallow the lump in your throat. "Um, I stayed with some friends for about a week before I had to start running, and I got this." You gestured to your back.
"An arrow?" You heard Scott almost whisper, and you looked over your shoulder at him, then looked at the floor, your head still turned to the side.
"Yeah. It, um, it reminds me to keep moving forward. They only fly in the direction that you point, so it reminds me to never aim my anger or past experiences at the future. Sure, they helped shape me, who I became, but," you shrugged, "they don't have to shape who I become."
You glanced over at Derek who had the same look in his eyes that he had when he first met you.
Looking back at Scott with a sad smile, he met your gaze with one of his own. "Allison would have liked you."

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