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Once upon a time, anger had been enough for him. It kept the wolf in check, and it kept him in control during the full moon. The more time passed, however...the less anger worked.
He couldn't function on his own.
Derek had grown up with a pack of his own, a large family of werewolves that helped his parents raise him. He was never alone, never lost, never truly afraid, even when the hunters came because his pack was out there, waiting to bring him home. He hadn't even realized that sleeping alone was a thing that people did until Paige came along...she'd smiled and laughed when he asked her about it, amused by not unkind. At home, it just wasn't done: there was always another warm body to curl up next to in order to drift off to sleep.
Even after the fire, he'd slept with Laura. They'd shared a one bedroom apartment, and he would always take the spot against the wall, spooned against her back, comforted by the scent of pack surrounding him. It was smaller, a little more lonely, but they still had each other.
Now he was alone. He tried to create a new pack, tried to make do, but at the end of the day he couldn't do it. Being part of Scott's pack helped some, but a pack full of humans didn't understand the deeper need for contact and companionship, the bonds that made a pack what it was. He was suffering, his wolf was growing stronger...
He was getting more afraid, with each passing day, that the moment was coming where he'd go looking for a hunter to put an end to him.
So when anger didn't work, Derek turned to the next best thing: sex. He never paid for it, but rarely did the girls want to linger, and those that did he often had to be cruel to the next day so they didn't start deluding themselves that he was available for more. His beast never spoke out, the mating call went unheard, but fucking someone took the edge off until the full moon, when he was back to locking himself up, tearing into his own palms with his claws until sunrise.
Tonight, the blonde he'd picked up left right after they were done, leaving Derek feeling hollow and empty, but calm for the moment. It was late, the full moon was tomorrow night, and he didn't know how long his control would last this time. Once he heard the door close behind his departing date, he rolled out of bed and showered, only to hear a banging at his front door. Peter never knocked, and he was in Argentina anyway...the only answer was either Scott or someone else in the pack.
Padding through his loft in a towel and nothing else, moisture still beading on his skin, Derek tugged the sliding door open to reveal...
He blinked in surprise, head cocking to the side in an amusingly canine fashion as he met her gaze.
"Lydia? What are you doing here?"
He couldn't function on his own.
Derek had grown up with a pack of his own, a large family of werewolves that helped his parents raise him. He was never alone, never lost, never truly afraid, even when the hunters came because his pack was out there, waiting to bring him home. He hadn't even realized that sleeping alone was a thing that people did until Paige came along...she'd smiled and laughed when he asked her about it, amused by not unkind. At home, it just wasn't done: there was always another warm body to curl up next to in order to drift off to sleep.
Even after the fire, he'd slept with Laura. They'd shared a one bedroom apartment, and he would always take the spot against the wall, spooned against her back, comforted by the scent of pack surrounding him. It was smaller, a little more lonely, but they still had each other.
Now he was alone. He tried to create a new pack, tried to make do, but at the end of the day he couldn't do it. Being part of Scott's pack helped some, but a pack full of humans didn't understand the deeper need for contact and companionship, the bonds that made a pack what it was. He was suffering, his wolf was growing stronger...
He was getting more afraid, with each passing day, that the moment was coming where he'd go looking for a hunter to put an end to him.
So when anger didn't work, Derek turned to the next best thing: sex. He never paid for it, but rarely did the girls want to linger, and those that did he often had to be cruel to the next day so they didn't start deluding themselves that he was available for more. His beast never spoke out, the mating call went unheard, but fucking someone took the edge off until the full moon, when he was back to locking himself up, tearing into his own palms with his claws until sunrise.
Tonight, the blonde he'd picked up left right after they were done, leaving Derek feeling hollow and empty, but calm for the moment. It was late, the full moon was tomorrow night, and he didn't know how long his control would last this time. Once he heard the door close behind his departing date, he rolled out of bed and showered, only to hear a banging at his front door. Peter never knocked, and he was in Argentina anyway...the only answer was either Scott or someone else in the pack.
Padding through his loft in a towel and nothing else, moisture still beading on his skin, Derek tugged the sliding door open to reveal...
He blinked in surprise, head cocking to the side in an amusingly canine fashion as he met her gaze.
"Lydia? What are you doing here?"
